#destined to be mortal enemies

[darkshrimpemotions]

Destiel and Malec and Malex and Nandermo and Catradora are all same ship different font. I will not elaborate.

[crybabycola]

“if Light never used the Death Note he would be a cop and work alongside L isn’t that sad” personally I think it’s infinitely more tragic if the only way they could’ve ever possibly met was due to the Death Note idk I’m a Real Angst Lover

[leonamelody3]

So like, Trixie’s definitely the harbinger right?

[ameliiorate]

☀︎ — closed starter for @wildhcrses

"Damn it, I can't believe I let him get away," Wesley curses the fact that he had let the darklighter escape his grasp, pacing around the living room of the house. "We have to get to Katie before he does," he names off the name of the innocent mortal that is next on the darklighter's kill list. One that has yet to earn her wings. "Have you got ahold of your sisters?" Turning to Shiloh, he has to remember to breathe through the yearning churning in his chest. Since the reveal, the time they have spent alone has been minimal, preferring to interact when her sisters are around to be a buffer. With neither of them around, he's left with no other choice. With a shaky exhale, he extends his hand, ready to break a rule. "C'mon, I'll orb us to her house. If she's not there, we'll check her work." They have no choice. They have to act fast.

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Another Merlin au prompt! This time featuring Morgana, because I haven't been giving her enough love recently!

EDIT: You can find part two of this au here!

In a season 4 au, the Cailleach never tells Morgana that Emrys is her destiny and her doom. Instead, she merely tells Morgana that Emrys is her destiny. So, instead of fearing Emrys, Morgana believes that Emrys is the key to achieving her destiny and conquering Camelot. Thus, she starts her hunt to try and find an ally in Emrys.

Through the Druids and the Catha, Morgana learns that Emrys is the Old Religion's god of magic and is destined to come to the mortal plane in the form of a human to bring magic back to the land after a great tragedy. Morgana hadn't heard of Emrys before since Morgause (in her hubris) did not focus on educating Morgana in the gods and goddesses that they were supposed to worship, instead focusing on teaching her powerful, dark magic and battle strategies against their enemies.

So, Morgana spends most of seasons 4 trying to find Emrys and ally herself to him. Morgana eventually learns from a druid that defected to her cause that Emrys has already taken his human form and lives in Camelot, working in secret to bring about magic's return to the land. Morgana was shocked by this, since it was possible that Emrys had been in Camelot even before she knew of her magic, but also pleased, as having Emrys already established inside Camelot would make a takeover much easier!

Morgana, from there, starts attributing her every victory and defeat to Emrys in some way. She succeeds in killing Uther through the enchanted necklace? Emrys must have been in on her plans and delivered the final blow while Arthur trusted him to try to heal his father! Her plan to drive Arthur and Gwen apart through shade Lancelot succeeds? Because Emrys ensured that no one suspected the shade before he did his job, of course! Her magic fails during her takeover of Camelot? Emrys must be angry with her for trying to conquer Camelot without him! She makes it out of Camelot alive even without her magic? Praise Emrys!

Morgana's beliefs are further solidified when Aithusa heals her. She asks Aithusa who she is, how is there another dragon? Aithusa is too young to speak, but she instead shares images and ideas with Morgana. In Aithusa's memories, Morgana couldn't quite see the face of the dragonlord who hatched Aithusa, but she knew how that magical power felt! It must have been Emrys, as the druids also told her that he was the last dragonlord! He must have sent this young dragon, his own kin, to heal Morgana and keep her safe before their destinies came to fruition!

When they're captured by Sarrum, Aithusa called out for her dragonlord, and after a couple hours in that damned well, a golden light filled the entire space, and their magic-binding chains were removed, allowing them to climb out of the pit and escape. There was no doubt in Morgana's mind that Emrys was the one who saved him, but to her disappointment, he was not there when they escaped.

(Merlin, back in Camelot, performed a ritual to send his magic to aid Aithusa, wherever she was. He could sense her cries and her fear, but he couldn't pin down her location, so this was his only way of sending help.)

By season 5, Morgana's patience was growing thin. She knew that Emrys probably had some grand, years-long plan for how they were going to conquer Camelot and let magic reign, but she wanted the throne that was rightfully hers! But to do that, she needed Emrys. So, she sought out the Diamiar to ask how she could find Emrys. Unfortunately, she never found the Diamiar and was forced to retreat.

Fast forward to Kara being captured and Mordred begging for her life and getting locked up with her. In this au, Merlin helps break Mordred and Kara out of the dungeon and helps them leave Camelot safely, leading to Mordred not growing bitter against Merlin, but still holding animosity towards Arthur for not being merciful towards Kara.

Kara takes advantage of Mordred's newfound anger towards Arthur and convinces him to join Morgana's forces. Morgana welcomes Mordred with open arms, but he's hesitant to tell her Emrys's true identity after Merlin saved him and Kara. However, after Morgana tells him that the only way that they can defeat Arthur is with Emrys fighting alongside them, Mordred reluctantly tells Morgana Emrys's true name: Merlin.

Morgana is absolutely shook by this news. How could her ultimate ally, the key to her victory, be one of her worst enemies?! He was Arthur's most loyal lacky! He saved Arthur's life repeatedly, keeping her from the throne! He had poisoned her!

Morgana was in absolute denial over this news, until she started thinking over it. When she had first told Merlin about her magic, he had tried to help her and led her to the druids. Yes, he had poisoned her, but that was the last push she needed to join Morgause. Perhaps that was his plan from the beginning? To ensure that she joined her sister and fulfilled her destiny in becoming a high priestess?

And his position as Arthur's closest confidant and servant gave him the anonymity to not be noticed by the nobility and the perfect place to manipulate Arthur, weakening him and his kingdom from within! Emrys truly was a mastermind with a plan to take down Camelot! And to think, she had fallen for his disguise as a cowardly servant as well! He was effortlessly playing all of Camelot for fools!

And oh, Morgana could see his vision! Emrys- Merlin- would crush Arthur's heart, his very soul, by revealing his power and his glorious destiny of returning magic to the land. All Merlin would have to do was pull the rug out from underneath Arthur, and Arthur would be so heartbroken and weakened by the betrayal that Camelot would be ripe for the taking!

Perhaps Merlin would revel in Arthur's humiliation? Wrap obedience spells around the king's mind and make Arthur his servant? What glorious justice that would be!

The most powerful sorcerer in history, magic incarnate, living in Camelot and having the absolute trust of the king! Everything was poised so perfectly! Morgana had to give Emrys credit for this, he had set everything up, from Morgana's rise to her true power to surrounding Arthur with commoner knights who owed more to Merlin than they did to the king, so that Arthur's end and magic's rise was inevitable. She did wish he would have told her about his plans sooner though. They could have been working together all this time!

Still, this meant that all of the pieces for magic's takeover of Camelot were in place! All she had to do was reach out to Emrys and let him know that she was ready, and they could conquer Camelot!

Mordred tries to warn her that Merlin is trying to fulfill the prophecy is a different, more peaceful way than what she has in mind, but Morgana brushes that aside. Emrys was her destiny, the key to her success!

However, after luring Merlin into the crystal cave and finally offering an alliance with him so they could take over Camelot, Morgana was shocked to be vehemently rejected by Merlin, with Merlin telling her that there was no way that he would ever betray Arthur, Emrys or not.

Morgana was not really expecting that and was forced to revise her plans. She needed Merlin to be on her side if she was going to have any chance at taking the throne from her undeserving brother, but Merlin, despite all of his power and destiny, was reluctant to join her and take his rightful place of power.

It was rather confusing for Morgana. Why would Emrys truly want Arthur on the throne? Was Arthur already his thrall, and he didn't want to lose his puppet king? No, if Emrys had Arthur under his power, magic would already be returned to the land.

Perhaps it was some sort of odd affection that Merlin had towards Arthur? That must be it! Merlin had been forced to tolerate Arthur for so long that some sort of forced feelings of connection towards Arthur had wormed their way into Emrys's heart!

So, Morgana goes on a campaign to win Merlin's loyalty over to her by 1) trying to undermine Arthur's rule and make his look like a fool and 2) make herself look like the better option. She has dozens of spies in Camelot and has sorcerers who can scry for her, so she knows when Arthur treats Merlin like a fool and dismisses his thoughts like an arrogant prat, and she chooses those days to send Merlin gifts, like spell books filled with useful curses, enchanted jewelry to make him more powerful, and the severed head of an assassin who managed to land a cut on Merlin while he was trying to kill Arthur (on Morgana's orders, but that's just semantics).

Morgana also sees how Merlin's living situation with Gaius isn't great, so she sends him things like new luxurious clothes and rich foods, which are things that she supposes that he'll have to get used to after he takes his rightful place as the conqueror of Camelot.

Merlin, however, remains suspicious of these gifts and knows that Morgana is trying to tempt him to her side, so he ignores them for the most part. Eventually, Arthur finds out about Morgana trying to bribe his manservant with extravagant gifts and loses his mind over it. He knows that Merlin would never betray Camelot to the likes of Morgana, but the fact that Morgana has set her sights on Merlin puts him very ill at ease.

And this, of course, devolves into a tense game of tug-of-war between the Pendragon siblings. Both of them are tripping over themselves trying to prove themselves to be more deserving of Merlin's loyalty, while Merlin just wants to go back to sleep.

Let me know if you'd like to see a continuation of this prompt! I think that seeing a high-stakes sibling rivalry between Arthur and Morgana over Merlin would be pretty funny!

EDIT: You can find part two of this au here!

Also, please let me know if there are any other Merlin characters you'd like me to feature! I'm working on some Gwen-focused and Lancelot-focused prompts, but let me know if there are any others you'd like to see!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my rambling! :D

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Black Cloud, Red Fire (Part 1)

(part 2)

Black Wind Mountain.

Once a temple in the forest, full of prayers, life, and worshippers. Now, a lair for Yougais and their master.

Everything was silent, except for the song of nature that made that place almost harmless. Untill the sound of panting, foot on the Rocky pavement, and broken leaves emerged.

"Ugh...I should have done cardio...UFF!"

The Destined One, the monkey that had convinced you to follow him, stopped on his tracks to look at his surroundings and gave you the time to catch up. He snickered a little, looking how disappointed you were after the climb on the side of the mountain. He offered you his hand, allowing you to avoid a few more steps before reaching him.

"Not a very outdoor one, uh?"

"I'm more...sitting on the couch person."

"What's a couch?"

"Something BEAUTYFULL....wow..."

You would never get used to the view here: from where our eyes could reach, there was just forest. The mountains were covered in it, and so were the few hills that appeared, giving you almost the idea that you were walking on the backs of thousands of sleeping giants. Here and there, you were able to spot the roof and the spires of small pagodes and temples.

Some prove that once these places were abitated or at least visited by humans and mortals. 

Now, the old structures were black and decaying, a sign that a fire had started so many years ago and what couldn't be saved was left to the wilderness. You both avoided those structures, finding them quite crumbling and dangerous, but nothing stopped you from admiring them.

The air was rarefied, giving you some trouble breathing and forcing you to make more deep inhales. Your companion, used to the high place of birth, had no issues at all, but he gave you the chance to rest and get used to the altitude.

"It feels so unreal... it's like a painting."

"You don't have places like these in your world?"

"Well yeah, but... not so beautiful like this one."

It was even funny to believe that such a beautiful place like this one could hold such dangers as the Yaoguais or whatever was holding the relic of the Great Sage. After another few minutes of adjusting, the two of you continue your way inside the woods, leaving behind the security of the open space.

The light was dim despite the sun high in the sky; the thick of the branches was mostly the cause of it. Walking near your companion, you started to notice how hard it would become trying to look in front of you or even notice the presence of whatever could attack you both.

"Su-sure, this place is...dark."

"Umm.. stay close, okay?"

You pick up the peace, holding tight to your snack on your back, regretting that you didn't ask for a weapon before leaving Mount Huaguo.

"Hely, listen..." You finally spoke up after a few minutes. "Are you sure that the relic is in this...very lovely and absolutely not filled with dangers?"

"Ummm...i guess?"

"YOU GUESS?!" Your voice echoed in one second through the forest; a few birds flied away, afraid of the sudden change. The monkey instantly shushed you.

"We're in enemy territory!"

"...You guess?! You don't know if it's here?!"

You were FURIOUS. Not only they started to blabber about you being some kind of being that were supposed to help them bring back an old legend, almost forcing you to participate, and now the same one that convinced you to give a try to this damn plan that could maybe bring you back home is unsire if that damn thing is in that damn forgotten place?! After that long road?! You really wanted to take that staff of his and smash it on his head! He shushed you again, trying to calm you down to avoid calling too much attention to you two.

"Okay, I know, this sounds crazy, but I can assure you that we have ideas! Firstly, there's a dangerous amount of Yaoguais in this area, and second, did you remember that funny little game that we did back at our mountain?"

"You mean me pointing my finger to a random place on a map just because I felt a tingle in my stomach?"

"Yup." Your eyes widened so much that you could feel your eyelash touch your forehead. You wanted to scream so hard that even whatever gods lived up there could hear you, but before you could, the monkey putted his hand on your mouth.

"There, there, let it all out," he said, while you were just muffling your scream on his hand. When you finally were finished and your breath was out, he removed his hand from your face, allowing you to mumble some curses under your breath.

"So we could be somewhere and find nothing?"

"Or we could be in the right place!"

You grumbled again, now more worried than before about your return to your original world. He sighed. Of course this was absurd to you; everything was, but you needed to trust him a little.

"I know it's hard, but... I believe in you. I know we're on the right path!"

"At least one of the two does..." You mumbled, kicking a rock near you, scratching your arm a little. You really wanted to believe him and in you, but to you, it was just so difficult to do it, especially since you were a complete no one...They all tell you you were some kind of powerful thing, this Bián huá, and yet you couldn't believe a single thing like this.

Looking at you, he guessed that you were still having doubts. He opened his mouth to say something when-

"On the go, bent the toe,

Life of a human, all for gold."

A voice, not far from you both, could be heard from your position. Someone was coming! The monkey looked at you, and a mischievous grin appeared on his face.

"Go and hide in the bush! I'll show you what I can do!"

You fastly follow his instructions, hiding behind some bushes on your right, while the voices get closer and closer. The monkey suddenly vanished under a cloud, only to be replaced with a ripe peach! What's he doing now? On the clearing, just when the smoke disappeared, appeared two... wolves?

They were walking on their two back legs, and like humans, they were wearing some clothes and holding their furr on their heads like some human hairstyles. The both of them were holding a sword; maybe they were scouting the area for some food? You didn't know, but you were sure worried for your monkey! 

"Nowhere better than our home,

We cheat death and ever grow."

One of the two, the one that had his sword already drawn, noticed the fake peach on the ground, emitting a sound of surprise and showing a huge grin on his maw, and immediately went to take it in his paw.

"Here, you see? What bliss my fate shows!" How the hell that big dog was talking?!

"Well well! Luck's around the corner. Seems like it just fell from a fruit tree here." Said the other wolf, looking around in the search for the tree. You really hoped he didn't see you or smell you!

"Perfect timing! This peach knew I needed a snack!" And, after having cleaned it a little from the dust and played with it in his hand, the wolf took a huge bite on the fruit without a second guessing. In that moment, a cry of pain escaped from him, and he threw away the peach, alongside a few of his own teeth and some fur that the monkey must have pulled with it. Once on the ground, after a few jumps, the same smoke from before reappeared, and the fruit turned back to his simian original form.

"You sneaky rascal!" said the wounded wolf. "Dare to fool me?! I'll make sure you'll regret it!"

Before the two wolves could launch their attacks on the monkey, he had already drawn his own weapon from his ear and charged towards the two. You had seen him fight before, and it was always a show that left you in a haze. Violence wasn't a nice view, but his moves, his precision, his strength—it was surely something!

In a few minutes, the two wolves were already defeated and turned to dust, and you reemerged from your hiding spot.

"Wow...that's what you could only say.

"See? told you I could protect you."

"Well, you surely could... but the transformation was really necessary?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by someone.

"No matter how many times you come around. You are still as mischievous as ever, eh?"

An old voice suddenly started to be heard. It was an old one, cranky, and somehow friendly. The both of you started to look around, only to find only trees, rocks, and falling leaves. The monkey immediately came closer to you, looking around and sniffing, but beside the smell of the two wolves, there was nothing—just nature.

"Did...you hear that?" 

"Yer," he said, guarding you.

"Good! I'm not crazy then!"

"And there's the Bián huá! All of you, always doubting your own security!"

You gulped loudly; he could hear you?! But that means he's near?! Then why even the monkey couldn't spot this mysterious old man?!

"Looks... looks like someone is watching us..."

"Um..." he looked at you, noticing your now frightening look, your eyes searching for the source of the voice. He held your hand in his own, gently giving you a small pull. "Came one. I'm sure that we'll find who's talking up ahead."

And so, the two of you started to take the road from where the two wolves had come from, realizing then that, if there was something, it was supposed to be there for sure. The more you started to clumb the path of the mountain, more enemies started to come. They were all wolves, and all of them were supposed to be the front guard of this mysterious place that, for some reason, started to make you feel... uneasy. 

You couldn't put your hands on it, but it reminded you of the strange feeling in your stomach, yeah, the map one. Only that, this time, became stronger and stronger the more you two explored the mountain.

After another turn, the smell of incense reached both of you, and a small smoke caught your attention. Two fires were located at the sides of a small structure, a house in miniature. The closer you get, the more it becomes clear that it was a small shrine, far more detailed and more decorated than the one that you saw on Mount Huaguo. Suddenly, just like before, the same old voice started to ring again around you two.

"Aaah! Wha-what are you waiting for?! Pluck your hair and make an offer!"

You looked at the monkey, raising an eyebrow.

"...Uh...my hair?"

"There." He showed you that, after taking a few hairs from his head, their form changed into a thin and long incense stick that he lit with a few movements of his hand.

"See?"

"I can't do that. Mine is normal hair."

"Ooo, stop making silly excuses! Try it on!"

"Okay okay okay! Geez, I can't believe that I'm listening to a mysterious voice."

You imitated the same motion of the monkey, and, after a small glow, in your hand there was the same incense stick!

"But... did I do that?!"

"See? Always questioning! Now hurry up! Both of you!"

You both put the incense stick inside the small pot full of sand, and, as one surprise wasn't enough, another magic happened in front of you: the decoration of the shrine started to grow like branches, and, in a swirl of petals, pink peach flowers started to bloom under your eyes.

"It's...normal?"

"In some places, yes..."

"...So,...what now?" The monkey shrugged off at your question and made a few steps ahead. Before you could follow, the voice called upon you two once again.

"Hey! Wait!"

A smoke, just like the one that has been summoned by your monkey companion when he transformed, appeared again, but this time in front of you there was what reminded you of an old potato.

He was what you could imagine to be the personification of the concept of old. His legs and arms were so thin that it was strange that he could even move; his bald head, covered in some strange bumps similar to some roots, was covered in wrinkles and some spots here and there; and the white hairs that happened to be his eyebrows and beard covered his facial features that made it hard to see his eyes and mouth.

His robes, tinted in a deep blue, seemed quite elegant, despite their age. His weight was supported by an old wooden staff, curved to the end, and in his other hand a small stick. Does it remind you of a back scratcher?

"I, the keeper of Black Wind Mountain," he said while coughing, cleaning his clothes from the dust. "I have long been waiting for your arrival."

That old voice—he was the one that spoke to you before in the clearing! That old, small thing was the keeper of this mountain?! 

"Let's see... the new Bián huá, eh? Well, you seem in good health," he said while pointing your side with his scratchback. "It will compensate for the lack of faith."

"Hey!" you ward off the wooden object while his continuous touch started to bother you.

"And she has some character on her, a good starting point..and you..." His eyes fell on the monkey, the destiny one. For a moment you feared that he could fall on his old and be ready to crash back, but he regained his stability in a few steps.

"Oh! His spitting image...I'd say."

Of who? You looked at the monkey, and he seemed almost proud? Was the keeper talking about... Sun Wukong? Well, all monkeys looked the same to you, so maybe it was the old age that talked...

"You were waiting for...him?" You pointed at the monkey; the old man just laughed a little at your naiveté.

"Child, I was waiting for both of you! For the Destined one and the Bián huá!" He walked over you two, pointing at the passage that extended ahead of you, between the rocks and the trees.

"Up ahead is Guanyin Temple. Once, it was bustling with worshippers before it was ruined by that fire."

His tone, before proud of the past of the place, became grave when he pointed at the proof of the tragedy that had happened there: skulls, human skulls. Come to think of it, those weren't the first you saw in the area... How many people had died there?

"What...fire?"

"You said you heard of the story, right?" The monkey said, recognizing what the old man was talking about, "You remember about the Elder Jinchi and the Kasaya?"

You pondered a little. You weren't that costumed about it, but you know that, perhaps, that was the cause of the fire.

"Yes, children..." said the keeper, pointing up ahead. "Then the temple was rebuilt." He suddenly turned to you, expressing a questioned and angry tone, "But what good is it to rebuild a temple if the good will of men has been burned to ashes?"

You kneeled near one of the skulls. It was so...small...the fear of the age of the one that once was in front of you struck you.

"But...it was rebuilt...then why the Yaoguais are here?" The monkey spoke, looking at the old man, still curious about the whereabouts of the temple.

"Monks came, men too, and they tried to rebuild life here! But that bear...he led his minions here!....Who couldn't escape had faced a bitter end."

"But...you're the keeper of this place...the deity of the mountain..." you finally spoke, following the step of the monkey. "You could take care of them, right? There as to be some way to fix this place!"

"I would! But that damn bear...he had brought something so powerful that even I couldn't match!"

Something that he couldn't match?... The eyes of the monkey gleamed, looking up at the mountain.

"The relic...it must be the relic!" He turned to you, ejoyed by this news: "You were right! You foudn it!"

"I...found it?" You repeated, "I... did! I did! ...oh...."

You soon realized what that meant, and suddenly, another sound emerged from the dark. A long, strong, and eerie howl of something that scared even the keeper and manmy birds that had already flied away from their previous location.

"You forgot this place," said the keeper, retreating away from the passage, "but they haven't forgotten you!"

You stod in your position, scavared by the sudden change of atmosphere, while the monkey observed the passage with caution, expecting everything to appear from it at any given moment. The old man, like he had appeared, disappeared in the cloud of smoke.

"That's a tough one. Good luck to you!"

And these were his last words, before you and your companion were left alone again. More than before, you felt an amount of emotion that you couldn't describe, but when you looked at the road where you came from, some doubts arose in you. The monkey noticed your fear, and he waited for your reaction.

Despite the desire to run, you simply couldn't. You stayed there, eyeing the entrance and your only way out. When you finally turned to the entrance, where you sure didn't want to go, you gulped.

"There's no turning back from there...right?" The monkey sighed; he wanted to tell you that you could just turn back and that he could handle it, but he couldn't say that; he knew that it was a lie.

This was supposed to be made in two.

"If you don't trust in yourself... then trust in me... trust in my ability."

He lends his hand towards you... and, with fear, doubt, and so many regrets, you take it, slowly entering the passage alongside him.

///

From that moment on, the forest became full of wolves. It was hard to advance without encountering a new enemy, and every time your companion never showed a moment of stress or panic, he only charged, attacking those enemies without trace of fear. Your only option, by your side, was to stand back, hide, or just... watch. You couldn't do more...even if, isnide, it made you quite nervous.

"Don't you get tired?"

"No, I've been doing this since I was a cup!"

"I wish I could help more." You scratched your arm again; it must have been a sign that showed your stress he had noticed. He just packed your back, swinging his tail.

"If you like, I can teach you a few tricks! Once we're back home with the relic, we'll have plenty of time!"

"You...would?" It felt nice. He didn't show off your anxiety about your role in that mission; instead, he just wanted to help you get confidence by taking some steps ahead. It was a nice gesture, even if you were quite unsure about if it could really help you.

"Of course!" he laughed. "We're both in this!"

You nodded. It was true; you were both in that.

The sound of the water became of a falling one, a sign that the river nearby became a waterfall. You were walking by it, searching for a few herbs, when you both became interested in taking and collecting when you heard something else. Another voice; it wasn't from the keeper, of course, but it wasn't like the ones from the wolves either. To be fair, there were no wolves now that your companion had cleaned the area.

When the sound of the waterfall became stronger, that's when you noticed.

"Monkey! Look over there!" You finger pointed towards a figure. Curved on her back, her white, messy hair spiked the most on het dark attire. The clothes were old and raggy, and by the jiggle he was wearing some wooden jewels. The long and thin hair and his colorful muse give away immediately her species. Your companion suddenly came closer, looking where your finger was pointing, noticing the creature.

"A Mandrill! There near the edge of the waterfall!" You kept saying. You didn't know what she was doing; it seemed like she was searching for something or trying to collect it from a stone, quite big, that rested in the center of the stream. The low level of the water allowed the rock to be accessible to the mandrill, but she seemed like whatever she was trying to rescue was stuck or simply unavaible.

The baboon must have heard your voice, and suddenly she stopped his doing with the rock, spinning away from it. You gasped when you saw her launch herself to the cliff, moving forward. But when you reached the same edge, you saw nothing there.

"She should be at least around..."

"I don't think that was a simple Mandrill, Y/N." The monkey that had reached your side was in time to take you and pull you back from the edge, fearing a fall.

"Was she your friend? Do you know her?"

"I never saw her in my entire life. Hey, hold on!" He looked at you, his hand on his hips. "It's not like we monkey know each and every one of us!"

"Well," you keep it up, mimicking his gesture, "you called each other brother and sister! And meeting a familiar face wouldn't be so bad here!"

He chuckled, giving you a small push. Then, both of your eyes landed on the rock that the baboon was inspecting, and curiosity took over.

"What do you think she was doing?"

"Well, let's take a look!" He went closer to the rock, and there you both realized that it wasn't completely a rock. It was a head—a big rocky head—maybe one of a statue that once must have been a decoration of the long-lost temple. The expression of the man that was depicted was calm and relaxed, his earlobe long; maybe a Buddha? The monkey started to clean the area and noticed some scratching at the base of one of the closed eyes of the statue. It seemed like he was trying to make a hole in it...

"Maybe there's a switch or-" And just when your hand touched the statue, suddenly its eyes wide opened. One of the two cavities of pure stone, but the one where the Mandrill was scratching was hollow and contained something. A sphere, pure white, the only color a red must at the center, discolored by the time. It wasn't smooth at all, but at the touch it was perceptible—some spirals, decotrating the orb.

"...What is it?" You asked curious, tapping the orb with your finger.

"I don't know... but it seems important; let's keep it!" And so, the orb soon vanished inside his own sack.

"You surely are one that loves to collect staff around, eh?"

"Well, if something is useful..."

You chukled a little, leaving the stream at your back. Keep it up with your ascension on the mountain. It didn't take long that now you would face another obstacle, and oooh boy, what an obstacle!

Guarding the gate, a huge Yaoguais was holding a huge Helberd, moving back and forward, ready to strike whoever crossed his path, or it was unlucky enough to meet it. It reminded you of some kind of bull, but he was pretty messed up to be one... The thing that really concerned you was the fact that he was practically in front of the gate; it was impossible to miss without a fight. Hiding behind a tree, you looked at your companion, who, without if or but, just took his own staff, ready to get in action.

"Stay here; be careful not to be spotted and to run."

"Run?"

"Just in case, wish me luck!" and so he marched towards the bull that, as soon as he had spotted him, he followed his example.

The two started to clash their weapons immediately, and you could clearly see that the monkey had the advantage of his small stature and his agility. He avoided all of his attacks in a few steps, which made the bull upset and more aggressive. And the guai had one more thing in his arsenal: he was scarily strong. Despite his massive stricture, the guai was able to make some huge jumps, creating such waves in his impact that the monkey needed to be careful around to avoid falling down and became an easy prey.

Unfortunely, the monkey made a misstep: in the attempt of blocking the helberd, the bull struck with full force, catching the opponent like a rag doll, and, after a good spin to get velocity, slammed him on the ground. He rose his helberd, ready to stride.

"NO!"

You screamed, leaving the tree where you were hiding, but before something could happen, a golden aura wrapped around the bull and, just before his last strike over the monkey could be delivered, his entire body stopped. It wasn't just stopped because he had stopped the attack, but because his entire body was like frozen!

You immediately went to the monkey side, checking the damage from the last strike. He was incredibly untouched; the helbard must have struck him in the side where there was no blade and just acting as a hammer. His body may be fine, but he had felt that.

"Oh God, oh God, are you okay?!"

"Ugh...It...hurt!"

Maybe not lethal but a bruise really was surely ready to appear there. You grasped his gourd, helping take a sip of that strange magic juice that the old monkey entrusted you both to take in case of these kinds of damages. After a gulp, the monkey lamented the savor of the concuun, but he was fine at least!

"The bull?!" He looked at you, ready to defend you.

"Ehm ..."

You pointed at his opponent, Frozen in One Place. Then you heard some ruffles, some paint of fatigue, and...the keeper?!

Somehow, he had started to climb the bull back and, once reached its shoulder, he took a jump from it, falling on his two sticked legs. 

"It's been a while, but the Immobilize Spell still works like a charm!" He laiughed, clearly satisfied and somehow proud to show you both some of his own ability. You, on the other hand, were more interested in helping the monkey get back on his feet, preoccupied with finding more damages from the foe. Lucky for you, the juice was able to cure all of his wounds, even if the hurt of the strike still lingered.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes...huff, he almost got me..." He looked at the now immobilized bull, still ready to send his last strike on him. "A trick like this could be very useful around here."

"Well, since you hail from Mount Huaguo, it won't hurt to teach you a handy trick."

The monkey looked at him, still recovering from the fall, when the old man started to move his wooden hand around. It started to emit a soft light and some sparkle.

"Now, here we go; give me your hand!" And, without wait or but, the same small wand emitted a light that struck towards the monkey. You companion, fearing for another attack, immediately covered his face with his hand, but instead of pain, he felt... nothing?

Not nothing; he felt the same sensation when you pour warm water on your arm—harmless and somehow nice. He felt the sensation rise to his arm, to his shoulder, and then disappear, leaving only a sigyl on the palm of the same hand. You both noticed that it was the same symbol above the bull head.

"There you go, "continued the old man, while the two of you were observing the sign, in a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Should you come across any miscreants, just point your finger at them and release this spell. You'll be able to hold them in place while giving yourself a breather."

The monkey studied more his hand, carefully seeing the sign slowly disappearing on his skin, while you looked at the old man with a gleam of hope.

"It's going to come in handy around here!" said the monkey, his confident smirk coming back on his face.

"It would be so helpful if I could learn something like this too." 

"My child," said the old man, chukling at your naivety. "In this world, muscles and brute force are not the only weapons that you can possess!" And, knowing who you are, a spell like this is a joke for you!"

"I...can learn it too?" You looked at the bull, and, in a rush of courage, you took some steps in front of it.

You waved your hand in front of it and, noticing that it was pretty much impossible for it to move, you laughed, running back to your companion, who instintly put you behind him, like ready to defend you if that thing was ready to move again.

"It's amazing!" you said in joy. "With this trick, we can avoid so many fights!"

"Y/n," the monkey said to you, disconsolate," we can't just avoid every fight we have in front of us."

"He's not right, child," the old man sighed. "Sadly, mine is but an humble trick. Its power will wear off within a few short moments."

"Moments?!" you gulped, jumping back. "And when were you expecting to tell us that?!"

"I told you that it's not that simple!" Monkey came back to his fighting stance, while you took a step back, taking more distance from the upcoming fight.

"Ah ah, yes, yes, I know, not a great spell; thought it's good enough against boneheads like this one!" He pointed again to the bull with a teasing tone. "Anyway, just consider it an ace up your sleeve."

As soon as he finished his speech, the blow that was stopped suddenly crashed to the ground; the golden aura had dissipated from the bull, and it was angry.

The keeper was able to retreat from the scene, clearly shaken by the sudden release of the bull that now pointed to the monkey and you furious.

"The Yaoguais these days know no manners!"

"Y/n! Stand back!" His immediate thought came to your own safety; now the bull had seen you, and every chance could be good for it to attack you!

"FEAR NOT! "screamed the keeper to you and the monkey, "Teach him a lesson with your new spell!"

As soon as the old man had disappeared, the bull went on the offensive, more aggressive than he was before. You had to retreat as best as you could to avoid the fight and to be spotted by the giant creature. He needed more minutes to adjust to this new technique, but just when the bull tried to play the same trick from before, the monkey was ready and used the spell against it. 

It stopped! It was completely immobile! You gasped for the excitement, and, after the monkey had gifted you a small wink like to tell you to watch, he suddenly launched himself to his counterattack.

The bull was free after a few moves, but it was more shaken than before and pretty much hurt. He needed another good strike, but after that the monkey was able to put down his opponent and, just like the others, disappeared in a cloud of dust.

"You did it!" YOU DID IT! YOU USED THE SPELL!"

You jumped to him in joy; he freed the passage! And now he learned a new trick! He was just amazing!

He patted your shoulder, laughing a little like you, with a soft shade of red on his cheeks. "Yes, yes, I did it! But it's not over yet!"

He pointed to the now-opened passage—the road ahead of you.

///

"If it wasn't for the wolves ready to kill us, I would love to take a picnic here."

"Pic nic?"

"When you bring lunch outside and eat in the wild. I used to do it a lot when I went on the mountain to my grandparents during the summer."

Monkey seemed always interested in knowing your past; it seemed like, despite all, you had an almost normal childhood...noyt like its own...always training, always giving his best...well, he loved to make some pranks here and there, but the others had always considered him the responsible one of the bunch.

While walking, your attention was taken by an unusual sight: it must have been a balcony in the past; now what was left was only the old decoration of the door, the structure to the outside, and the wood that composed the floor. Two small pillars, decorated with two figures of what presumebly was Guanyin, were on the sides of a cushion and, in front of it, an incense holder.

"Someone use this place..."

"It must be a meditation point, to meditate...a great spot, even..."

You looked to the monkey; why so? It was in the middle of nowhere. By his looks, lost in the horizon, you followed his example. It was quite beautiful and calming. He then decided to take a place in the cuschion and ask you to follow him.

"Came on! It helps the mind!"

"I'll just watch. I'm not good alone with my thought."

"As you wish..."

His eyes closed, his face relaxed, like every muscle of his body. He seemed like a statue in that pose, and by how quickly he was able to communicate, or he needed a lot, or he just was used to that practice. You, instead, decide to sit at the edge of the structure, sighing and admiring the view.

He was right; it wasn't just beautiful; it was calming. You closed your eyes, letting the mountain breeze caress your cheeks and air, allowing it to enter your nostrils and your lungs.

You could hear so many things like that—the creaking of the wood, the howling of a few wolves in the distance, the leaves that moved in the branch—since when these sounds were so hard to listen to in your world?

In the distance, mountains could be seen, and, not far from your spot, structures that maybe once were habitated by humans and monks. Knowing that such a desolation happened in that place, yet nature decided to reclaim that portion of the world, taking back what had been taken away.

You sighed again, more air in your lungs...then a hand shaken you.

"Don't do this on the edge, at least! You can take a place near me!"

"You gave me a heart attack!"

"And how was I supposed to feel when I saw you there, ready to fall?!"

"Okay, I'm sorry! I'll do it with you next time!"

He seemed pleased; at least he wasn't obligated to catch you from a dead fall on a cliff!

"You were right. It's beautiful... Yaoguais aside."

"Yes, I don't know what's going to happen after we take the relic back from the Black Bear, but maybe things are going to get better."

"I just..." you scratched your arm. "I just hope the monks that died here can find a piece."

The image of that skull was still fresh in your mind. It scared you, yes, but it was most definitely sad. They must have been so scared alone. He looked at you with fondness; your thoughts decided to go to the ones that had suffered. You must have had quite a big heart. He took your hand, smiling.

"They'll be glad to know that we're taking care of this...now..." he pointed at two fires, both of the at the sides of a passage, an opening on the rocky walls of the mountain. "We must go. There's still a long road for us."

You nodded, and so you went back to your journey.

///

"We had to pass..."

"There are like...a LOT of wolves there, and I have a really bad feeling!"

"But we can't just stop here!"

"Well, we can't surely move forward like this?!"

Since he had made it clear that there was more enemy ahead, the two of you started to discuss what to do, but it seems like it was harder than you both thought. He sensed a lot of enemies ahead, and if he had to make a safe road, protecting you wasn't easy. You wanted to search a safe path, but there wasn't something like this right there, and he wanted to march in and take care of the problems right there.

"Listen, I'm going in."

"Monkey, please let's just-"

"Hey! Wait! You don't think you can just parade in, do you?! It's not that simple!"

As again, the old man had decided to appear and gave some help to the two of you. You gave a sigh of relief. Finally, that could actually listen to you!

"Finally! I was trying to tell him! We must take another path!"

"Dear one, there's no other path here!"

"Ah, ah!" the monkey smuggled on your face. "See? No path! ...So, any other suggestion, old keeper?"

"But of course I do! Let me transform you into a golden cicada, so you may follow the fires ahead and scout this mountain unnoticed."

He pointed to a series of fires that started to streech across the forest, a way to move across the darkness of the trees, especially during cloudy days or the night. With the same movements of his wand, the old man created the same light from the last time and, once again, struck the poor monkey.

"Wait wait! I can do it by my"

"FLY!"

"SELF!"

Like before, the poor monkey was completely helpless against the magic of the so helpful keeper, and instead of the young, bold monkey, now there was a small insect, with golden shades, flying around. The old man laughed, looking how confused the small cicada was trying to recall his surroundings. Now, there was this little inconvenience...

"But..." you pointed to your still humanoid body. "What about me?"

"Umm...a cicada is hard. You need a lot of control to move so many little arms and legs. Let's see. Let's see. Something simple, something helpless, something...ah!"

"Wait! Let me at least prepare my-"

Without a warning, you were the second victim of the Keeper magic, but you weren't what you were expecting. You looked at your now fluffy paw, a small cottontail, and very long ears.

"A rabbit?! Why can't I fly too?!"

"It's harder than it looks, child! Now, it might be humble, but my shrine is very versatile. You'll get it soon enough."

And, with these words, the Keeper disappeared in another cloud of smoke, leaving the cicada and the bunny alone.

"It's not fair. I wanted to fly too!"

"If it makes you feel better," said the cicada in a very pinch-high voice, "you look fluffiest than ever."

You two laughed a little before hearing for the last time the old Keeper.

"In the depths of Black Winf Mounain, there are secrets galore. These transformations may help you explore, but be wary; this form does not last forever."

"What do we do if we get lost?"

"Should you find yourself lost, just follow my voice. Now, off you go!"

You two looked at each other and, uncertain, started to move.

He had it easier; he could just fly around without getting spotted! You needed to act as natural as possible! Somehow, the wolves seemed more interested in cooking the ones that they already had than huunting you, so you were able to move around, alongside other bunnies and racoons, without fear of being taken.

When the two of you had the impossibilities to avoid the wolves, you were able to listen to them talk. It seemed that your presence in the mountain has been spotted, but they weren't sure of where you were or what your real intention was. As much as they knew, they only knew about a shapeshifter and a mortal alongside him. They also talked about a certain lord... maybe an affiliate of the bear?

Well, at least like that, you could avoid so many troubles... Somehow, you felt a little more safe in the shape of such a helpless animal. You both kept on going, following the fire as instructed, finding the way easier that you expected to find.

"Look! I can see the end of the trail of fire, Y/N!" The small voice of the monkey called you out from the bushes, pointing with his antennea at what was supposed to be the less populated area.

"Finally, being a bunny is... not... so."

You felt something inside you. You felt...a calling. 

You turned around; there was another of those old porches, one that the fire had only ruined but not destroyed. You looked in that direction, and you were sure it came from there.

"We just need to cross; we're so...Y/N?"

You weren't anymore near the bushes, so he got closer and started to roam the small area.

"Y/n? Y/N?!" He called, louder this time and much more worried. He couldn't see you. Where did you go?! Why did you leave all of a sudden?!

You couldn't hear his call; there was something else that held your attention. It was the same pull in your chest that called you towards the relic, but it was...different. It felt like stagnant water, a mix of smells that you couldn't quite get. 

It was a large clearing; the wall of the mountain and a cliff, secured with a parapet, gave them a natural circular shape. Besides trees and plants, fog covered the area, hiding a wooden structure in the same area. You couldn't put your hand on it, but something was there—something big and round. You jumped closer, not noticing the aura of fiery eyes looking at your every movement. Before you could get closer, a large pressure came to your delicate neck; a hand with a sharp claw had you now in his clutches. 

"Well, well... and what do we have here?

Avoiding screaming helped you to keep your bunny form, but you couldn't hold a gasp when you saw the wolverine creature that was holding you by your neck. Now you were in big trouble!

The wolf was different from the other; he seemed older and calmer. His robe reminded you of one of a monk, but it was so old and lacerated. His old mansion was so ruined, almost burnt here and there. Despite his strength, his claw gently held you and took you in his arm, holding you in place. You felt his rough fingers scratching your head, confusing you more than before.

"It's not a safe place for a small one like you. Humans and wolves love eating your flesh. I used to eat your kind when I was younger; now I can only remember the hunt."

Oh, so he didn't eat bunnies? He could have eaten humans, though.

Besides him, a long staff was stuck into the ground, a double blade to each end. You noticed now that the blade was strange in certain places; it seemed like it had burned. Now, in his arms, you could see clearly what was holding the structure: a bell, a giant bell made of iron.

It was simple, besides the decorations, like many other bells around... then why you seemed to be pulled by it.

You jumped from the wolf arms, sniffing and getting closer to the giant metal object.

"I never saw bunnies interested in bell... I suppose to guard it...but you don't look like a treat."

Well, not now at least.

You made another jump, much closer; now your small paw was able to reach the bell when, in your head, his sound started to echo so hard that it was painful.

Your body couldn't handle it, so you scream, holding your small rodent head in those paws, scaring the wolf, and, with any chance to control it, the pain forced you to release your true form.

You were still holding your head when you noticed the wolf, now holding his weapon.

"You... you tried to trick me, human?!" You gulped and tried to get back, finding yourself stuck between the wolf and the bell.

"I-i didn't-" Then, a sound or rustling and footstep caught your and the wolf's attention.

"Who goes there?! How dare you interrupt my meditation?"

And so, the face of a very worried monkey appeared from the fog and the shadow, looking at you with apprehension by your vicinity with the Yaoguai. The wolf looked at him, and a small smile came to his face, far more sinister than the one that he had shown you before.

"Hmmm...another monkey I see?" He asked, almost happy to see him. The blade in his hand started to change; it became red like it was on fire. Hold on, IT WAS ON FIRE!

"Why don't you lay down your weapon and join me in Buddha's mercy?" His weapon had made a few swifts on the ground; the dead leaves, the herbs, and whatever that thing was touching suddenly started a small fire, separing you from your companion.

"What say you?!"

He needed to connect; the wolf was already on his tail when he marched on! He needed to get you out of there before the fire could reach you; luckyly, you took cover behind the giant bell! Maybe he had time; he just needed to calm him down before it was too late!

That wolf was old, but he was a formidable foe! His swing was like he had never seen anyone do it, and every strike was precise and destructive. It was just like a fire; you couldn't control it; you could just watch and hope it doesn't destroy more.

But he needed to fight that fire!

He used the spell that the keeper had taught him and started again to attack his opponent. Sometimes, out of the blue, the wolf was able to persome formidabvòe aerial attacks, where even the monkey found trouble defending himself. Sometimes he was even able to rush like he could fly, and the fire just made him stronger.

Fighting him wasn't easy, but with the help of the spell and the fact that his own technique didn't need too much energy to be imposed, the monkey was soon the victorious one of the duels.

The wolf fell on the ground, covered in bruises and blood; his fur was now more burned than before. His eyes cast between you, now free to move while the monkey was killing the fire, and his opponent.

"You..." His voice was in pain, the last stray of strength only to talk, "Master spoke of you."

And while he started to disappear, three last words came from his mouth.

"The Destined...one..."

Peace came back in the clearing. 

You looked at where the wolf had disappeared, asking yourself how much his master knew about you two, about what happened there, and..the hand of the monkey slapped your head.

"Don't run off like that again!"

"Ouch! It wasn't my fault!"

"Yeah! Some strange magic led you here?!"

"..."

"...Seriously?"

You sighed; of course it was crazy, but it was true! Something called you here to do...something!

"I'm sorry...it just...something is strange... I don't know what's happening in me."

The monkey looked at your face. You were so concentrated, your hand caressing the carving of the metal face of the giant object. He wasn't used to bell like this; his own hand caressed the wooden trunk made to play the instrument.

"...Monkey?" He looked at you and said, "We should play it."

"No way! They'll spot us!"

"We're already on everyone's agenda! Please! I... I need it." You please.

He sighed, ready to regret every moment of this. He needed just a swing of the trunk when the sound of the bell started to resonate on the entire aura—on the mountain itself.

Then something else happened. Everything got dark; it was a forest, like the one you and your companion were planting—a child—he was alone. Many people were dying there; something had to hunt them down!

No! You must run! The bear! The bear is... giving him... jewels?

The sun rises, the monastery...

When you woke up from the trance, the monkey had to catch you before falling from the scaffold of the bell.

"Y/n! What's happening?! Are you okay?!"

You just moved your head, confused, scared...was that a vision? It was an old memory? The stagnant water now was moving; a rotting smell came to you.

"You just had to make some noise, did you?!" The voice of the Keeper came back again. He seemed stressed; the sound had scared some birds too. "Now everyone knows you're here! When a chime so grand echoes in the forest, Yaoguais will surely be alarmed!"

He was right; the monkey was able to sense the hair change now. The road was getting just more difficult...

"I'm sorry. I asked him to do it."

"Child, why asking for such a thing?!"

"....I....i'm sorry..."

The monkey couldn't stay angry with such a hurt expression in front of him...but why do you need it? And what did you see? Holding you in his arms, he started to head back to the road.

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[s0rr3l]

BLACK MYTH: WUKONG OC

Name: Lǐyú (carp)

Age: 25

Height: 5''11 ft/180 cm

Pronouns: They/Them

Story

A traveller out of time and space, Lǐyú finds themselves stranded on Black Wind Mountain, alone and at the mercy of its hostile inhabitants.

Taking pity, the Keeper of Black Wind Mountain takes them in and assigns them the position of <Shrine Caretaker>, a minor position that oversees the upkeep and maintenance of the various shrines within Black Wind Mountain.

Under the elder Keeper’s care, Lǐyú begins to familiarise themselves with their new circumstances through the Keeper's guidance. Inbetween duties, Lǐyú takes the time to learn and record the world about them in an effort to understand and survive.

This routine persists for several weeks, until the arrival of a certain monkey.

Lǐyú is an optional (Companion) to the [Destined One], who may join your party after accepting the request of the Keeper of the Black Wind Mountain.

Accepting Lǐyú as a (Companion) will unlock their personal quest <<Long Way From Home>>.

((More info about their stats/abilities below!))

Stats

Although physically weak, Lǐyú is a valuable companion of the Destined One and shows surprising tenacity against the challenges of this new world.

(Companion) Lǐyú has 5 stats to upgrade from LVL 1. Stamina Recovery Rate and Damage Reduction stats are unlocked after clearing Chapter 1 ‘Black Wind, Red Fire’.

Abilities

[Luck that goes against the Heavens]

Lǐyú's fortunes are known to dip and rise in unusual patterns.

While they often come across opportunities to gather precious materials, ingredients or equipment, it is always accompanied by mortal peril.

Their Luck is so unnatural that it defies the natural balance of the world, so fortuitous encounters often come with the risk of danger in an effort to suppress their Luck.

(Companion) Lǐyú has MAX LVL [LUCK].

Can inflict one of the following debuffs to enemies within their range: Increased Miss Rate, Reduced Critical Hit chance, Reduced Movement Speed, Reduced Resistance to the Four Banes

Grants one buff to allies, 2 buffs to Companions (for more information, please see BUFFS page)

Increase the rate of EQUIPMENT/LOOT drops and discovery of precious ingredients/materials

Due to their nature, (Companion) Lǐyú will influence the [Destined One]'s own [LUCK].

Warning: should Lǐyú enter the STRESSED state, their [LUCK] will start to indiscriminately target allies and foes alike.

Will attract enemy AGGRO within a certain radius if not using Stealth

Allies and Companions will be afflicted with one random debuff: Increased Miss Rate, Reduced Critical Hit chance, Reduced Movement Speed, Reduced Resistance to the Four Banes

Introduces random environmental hazards

It is recommended that the [Destined One] keep Lǐyú's STRESS to a minimum.

Skills

(Companion) Lǐyú should come equipped with the following skills prior to joining the [Destined One].

Shrine Caretaker: Taught the basic upkeep and care of shrine maintenance. Allows Lǐyú to access the hub-world like the [Destined One].

Stealth: the ability to sneak past lesser yaoguais. However, skill will increases STRESS on Lǐyú. Can be upgraded.

Additional skills can be attained or unlocked through the completion of quests or advancing the main storyline.

TIP: Lǐyú is purely a support type (Companion) with little to no attack skills and prone to causing unexpected changes to main storyline. May the [Destined One] keep this in mind.

Spells

Due to limited Mana, Lǐyú cannot perform any spells.

Upon the completion of the <<Teacher for a Day>> quest, Lǐyú can begin training to increase mana and unlock [Spells].

In Chapter 3 ‘White Snow, Ice Cold’, Lǐyú can trigger the optional side quest <<Teacher for a Day>> upon meeting (Companion) Zhu Bajie.

Curios

Due to limited space, can only equip one curio at a time.

Upon meeting the Yin Tiger or upgrading to Legendary quality armour, Lǐyú can increase their curio slot by +1.

Current slot:

Wind Chime: Rare quality. Found while exploring the ruins of an old temple at the bottom of the mountain. Slightly increases movement speed. “Hark, the wind rises! That yaoguai must be coming this way!”

Inventory

(Companion) Lǐyú starts off with 10 inventory slots. These are their starting equipment:

Journal: Never seems to run out of paper. Lǐyú can use this item to access daily observations, enemy weaknesses and important landmarks/discovered secret realm locations.

Gourd: unknown quality, gifted by Yuan Shoucheng. A mysterious item that will grow along with it's user, has yet to show any special abilities. Can be upgraded.

Backpack: unknown quality, bigger inside than out. Carries all of Lǐyú's belongings.

Smartphone: rare quality. A keepsake from Lǐyú's world. Interacting with this item with the [Destined One] can trigger side quest <<???>>. “What a marvelous device!”

Fruit Leather: peach-flavoured. A consumable item that can raise the [Destined One]'s favourability.

Equipment

(Companion) Lǐyú starts off with the following equipment:

Old Temple Garb: rare quality. Gifted by the Keeper of Black Wind Mountain, who claims it was left behind by the previous Shrine Caretaker.

Cotton wristwraps: common quality. Plain but sturdy, in surprisingly good condition.

Cotton legwraps: common quality. Plain but sturdy, in surprisingly good condition.

Sneakers: unknown quality, but undeniably tough. A foreign brand gifted by their best friend. Claims to be both water-proof and fire-proof.

Hoodie: rare quality. A limited edition print from Lǐyú's favourite brand. Offers no defensive abilities but brings a sense of comfort. Can decrease the rate of Lǐyú's STRESS.

Quest Objectives

<<Long Way From Home>>

Lǐyú's final objective is to return to their original world. This can be completed by first completing main quest <<Revive Sun Wukong>>

(This objective is an optional side quest available to the [Destined One]. It is not compulsory for the completion of main quest <<Revive Sun Wukong>>)

<<Hug Auntie>> (must complete main quest objective)

<<Eat hotpot with friends>> (must complete main quest objective)

<<Red String of Fate>>

Secret side quest that triggers randomly depending on the relationship status between (Companion) Lǐyú and the [Destined One].

To unlock post-game content, the [Destined One] must complete main quest objective <<Revive Sun Wukong>>.

Endings

There are currently three available endings depending on whether the [Destined One] will complete Lǐyú's personal quest <<Long Way From Home>>

<<Till We Meet Again>>

Normal ending. Lǐyú returns to their original world after the [Destined One] fufills their destiny.

<<Promise>>

Secret Ending. Unlocked after the successful completion of the following side quests:

<<Long Way From Home>>

<<Red String of Fate>>

<<Fishbowl>>

Secret Ending. Unlocked after the successful completion of the following side quests:

<<Red String of Fate>>

<<???>>

Depending on the [Destined One]'s actions during CHAPTER 3, can trigger side quest <<???>>

(To achieve this ending, the [Destined One] must fail to complete side quest <<Long Way From Home>>)

[pauk-di]

"I expected more from you"

Bitch, I have an emotional dependence on a ship between two old, giant robots who are mortal enemies and have been at war for thousands of years and are destined to never be together, what did you expect?

[ghcstao3]

siren ghost and sailor soap?

sort of inspired by the pirates of the caribbean sirens scene because it’s one of my favourite things of that series. also i got a little carried away

-

Over the many, many years of traversing the Seven Seas for his life’s work, Soap has become intimately familiar with the abundant myths and legends about the ocean and what lies beneath.

Of course, most of these hold no truth. Most of these are only mere stories to quell the anxieties of sailors, or to provide reasoning to strange occurrences seemingly otherwise unexplainable.

Sirens are, unfortunately, the exception.

Ruthless, ravenous creatures—they’re the worst fear of any sailor who knows the worth of his own life, and like most things that make mortal men afraid, they’ve been transformed into weapons.

Soap only knows that sirens are real because of what happens to many prisoners at sea—from the brig they’re moved to rowboats without paddles, abandoned and forced to sing until the sirens appear to lure them into the water, where flesh would be torn from bone with razor sharp teeth.

It’s a terrifying sight. The creatures are like sharks called to blood with the way they appear, like piranhas with the way they feast.

It’s horrifying. Fascinating. And Soap has vowed to never let himself end up on one of those boats.

But alas. Fate has other plans for him.

Soap had been reluctant to join the crew of Captain Philip Graves when presented with the opportunity, but the pay promised had been good, the work simple, and the destination somewhere he’s never been.

But what Soap hadn’t realized is that Graves likes to take prisoners. He likes to engage in unfair combat with other ships, and operates almost like a pirate, though not explicitly enough to be considered one himself.

Soap realizes his mistake far too late when he wanders down to the brig one night, otherwise unable to sleep. They’re two weeks into their voyage by now, and Soap knows there’s people in the jail—but he hadn’t known the state of them.

Most already without a secure amount of food outside their makeshift cell, they’re emaciated, wasting away in the hull of the vessel. They’re barely responsive when Soap knocks on the bars of the hold and pokes someone’s damp shoulder. Someone weakly latches onto Soap’s sleeve and begs for nothing in particular, and he feels awful for not having known about this sooner.

So he begins sneaking them food, brings them drink. Squirrels away what extra he can without anyone noticing he’s stopped finishing his meals.

Except someone must notice. Because, nearing the end of their journey, Graves is waking him in the dead of night and pulling him into the Captain’s quarters.

Soap swallows the pounding heartbeat in his throat as Graves slowly crosses the room to take a seat at his desk. He’s never liked the man, not one bit—but this just feels unnecessary. Taunting.

“A little bird tells me you’ve been keeping our prisoners fed,” Graves drawls. “Even though, from what I recall, prisoners are the enemy. I don’t suppose you really have been helping them out, have you, MacTavish?”

It’s a trap, Soap knows. Only a fool wouldn’t be able to tell Graves’s question isn’t really a question at all. Graves has his answer, and waits on Soap’s response if only to entertain him with the idea of escape.

Soap knows just as well that there’s hardly a point in trying to lie.

He lifts his chin as he looks straight into Graves’s eyes to tell him, “I have been. They’re still people.”

Graves chuckles lowly, rising from his seat. He rounds the desk, sitting back on its edge with his arms folded across his chest.

It might be intimidating, if Soap were anyone else. If he were a lesser man.

“Well, then—since you like ‘em so much,” Graves says, “surely you won’t mind joining them.”

Soap supplies Graves with no visible reaction. He doesn’t fight as Graves calls for his men to throw Soap in the brig, doesn’t put up any fuss as they try to cajole him.

If Soap has to be imprisoned for doing what’s right, then he at least won’t let Graves have the satisfaction of knowing Soap’s internal panic.

Because Soap knows what Graves plans to do with his prisoners. He’s known all along.

He predicts they’re maybe a day from port when they’re shoved off the ship and ordered into the decaying rowboat, left to drift away—not too far, however, as they’re still tethered to the ship. Because once all prisoners have been drowned, the boat will be reeled back and used again the next time Graves and his crew venture out to terrorize the waters.

No one has the energy to sing, to lure their cruel punishment to them. Soap’s half-convinced some of the others might just jump into the water on their own.

But they have to sing. Especially when a bullet ricochets off the boat and splinters the wood as encouragement.

Despite his time spent out at sea, Soap isn’t overly familiar with many shanties. He just follows along with whatever is mumbled in a weak tune, dreading as the volume builds with a second bullet, and the water below begins to churn. Glancing over the edge, Soap swears he sees the flash of a tail.

The first one appears shortly, singing along to the song like she’s entirely familiar with the melody. Soap feels the pull, though perhaps not as strongly as he imagined he would, if ever he ended up in these circumstances.

He wonders, briefly and distantly, if it has to do with the fact that he’s not really all that into women.

Soap snorts. Wouldn’t that be something.

But as more sirens appear, the pull grows stronger. Soap begins to feel swayed by the song, gone from muttered and off-kilter to something beautiful, hypnotic. The boat bobs with the weight of their new company and the prisoners that rush to the sides to get a better look at the sirens as if they aren’t the dangerous creatures they’re known to be.

Still, though, Soap isn’t completely compelled to join them in the water. He stays put in the centre and grounds his teeth—though he does gasp and reach out when the first prisoner is pulled under, and red soon blossoms across the surface of the water.

Then he appears.

The whole world seems to disappear for just a moment, when Soap looks into big, brown eyes.

The siren’s voice is deeper than the rest, soothing, and though Soap’s hindbrain screams at him that hidden behind the enchanting exterior, the porcelain skin and the straw-blond hair, there lives evil—he can’t help but lean in.

As Soap gets closer, the boat continuing to rock as more prisoners fall victim, the siren’s singing pauses just long enough for him to offer Soap a smile, saccharine, close-lipped. He reaches out an arm to Soap, calloused fingers caressing Soap’s cheek, cupping his jaw.

Soap can’t help but melt into the touch, its simultaneous warmth and coolness, subconsciously chasing it as it retracts, eyes fluttering shut with a short, pleased sigh.

But with the singing fading from the others, Soap’s eyes suddenly snap open. The siren still holds him, still leads Soap with that gentle touch and deceptively kind gaze, but Soap resists. He doesn’t know when he’d gotten to leaning halfway over the edge of the boat, but he scrambles backward to the opposite side, as far as he can get from this siren.

Soap comes to the startling realization that he’s the only one left.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” the siren croons. He props himself up on the edge of the boat, arms thick with corded muscle to show the real power of this creature. He leans forward, the boat tilting with his added weight. “I don’t bite.”

Soap glances nervously about the empty rowboat, gaze accidentally straying the bloodstained waters that surround them.

“I beg to differ,” Soap says weakly.

The siren laughs softly before slowly sinking back into the water. The boat sways. Soap shakes.

Everything goes silent for a suspiciously long moment before there’s a disturbance in the water and the siren appears at the side of the boat where Soap has taken refuge. He’s singing quietly again and Soap feels that pull, so he moves away, screws his eyes shut, and jams his fingers in his ears in an attempt to block it out.

It doesn’t work, not when the singing gets louder, and Soap’s attempt is rendered useless.

“Shut up,” Soap growls. “Please just shut. Up.”

The singing does cease, though only to make way for a deep, full laughter that is somehow tugging on Soap’s conscience with more force than any melody so far.

When Soap blinks his eyes open, the siren is perched on the edge of the boat, arms splayed one on top of the other, his head resting over them. He’s smiling, even once his laughter has died down, a glint of something in his dark eyes—maybe not quite sinister, but certainly mischievous.

“They’re not letting you back on that ship, you know,” the siren says, as if it isn’t obvious. “So you can either come with me—“

“And what? Be drowned? Eaten?” Soap snaps. “Thanks, but I’d rather rot right here.”

“Suit yourself,” the siren hums.

To Soap’s surprise, he actually disappears back into the water. And despite the waves—the ocean seems to have finally calmed.

Maybe Soap did have the tiny, illogical hope that he’d be brought back to the ship. Maybe Soap did have the tiny, logical hope that this siren would just put him out of his misery.

Either way, now he just sits in silence, listening to waves lap up against the hull as the rowboat rocks lazily with the current. Though the peace surely only stretches on for a few minutes, it feels like hours.

Stupidly, Soap goes to inspect the depths. To make certain he’s really been left alone.

Because that’s when he’s pulled in.

Soap barely has time to yell out before his mouth is filled with the overwhelming, stinging taste of salt, unfamiliar arms wrapping securely around his frame so he can’t wriggle free. His shouts are muffled by the water, and he feels the cold soak into his bones as he’s dragged deeper and deeper. The light fades, or maybe it’s the lack of oxygen.

The last thing Soap sees is the siren’s grin, all fangs and malice before everything goes black.

But then, after an unknown amount of time—Soap wakes up to the slow drip, drip, drip of water on a stone floor.

He’s in a cave.

He’s in a cave, and there’s a light source somewhere, and the siren is watching him.

Soap coughs, clearing water from his lungs. He chokes out, “Why… what did you—“

The siren shrugs. “I don’t eat people I like.”

Soap frowns, still coughing. “You…”

“Call me Ghost,” the siren says, then dives into the pool he’d been wading in at the entrance of the cave, and swims away—long, elegant tail flicking behind him as he leaves.

And while many, many thought swirl around Soap’s head as he gradually gathers his bearings about the situation, the clearest of them all is also the simplest; what the hell kind of a name is Ghost?

If only he could guess.

And if only he could know what’s meant to happen to him next.

[kingofbodyrolls]

Stuck at a Christmas party (m) | pjm

It’s Seokjin’s Christmas party and you’re trying your best to be social with your friends, but it’s really hard when you feel the burning stare of your nemesis, Park Jimin, lighting your skin on fire. It doesn’t help when you feel his hand between your legs under the dinner table.

→ Pairing: Jimin x female reader → AU + genres: enemies to lovers, pwp (very little plot – let me be honest, it’s just pure smut). Humor/crack, smut. → Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 - this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact. → Word count: 5,1k → Warnings (explicit): exhibitionism, fingering, oral (male receiving), orgasm denial, cum eating, creampie, unprotected sex, choking (in a sexual context), degrading name calling (brat), hair pulling, dirty talk, multiple orgasms. → Taglist: @yopjm → Author’s note: the snowstorm couple are back!!! 🥳 For reference, please think of GDA 2019 Jimin with his sleek black suit when reading this 🥵

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a mini series ‘The Winter Collection’, but it can be read as a stand alone (as can all the installments in the series).

As you stand there, befuddled and speechless, you can't fathom how Seokjin deduced the intimate encounter between you and Jimin, your mortal enemy. The questions swirl in your mind—how, what, and why—leaving you utterly mystified.

Rage simmers within you, and you clench your hands into tight fists, resembling an enraged child ready to lash out. However, before you can unleash your fury, Jimin beats you to the punch with a nonchalant explanation, “We got cold.”

Your jaw drops once more as Jimin strolls past you and Seokjin, casually hanging his coat on the rack and discarding his shoes. He carries himself as though what transpired between you is the most ordinary thing in the world.

Seokjin's laughter, that annoying windshield wiper sound, echoes in the air. It grates on your nerves, and the urge to smack him for it intensifies. However, he ushers you inside, and with a frustrated sigh, you release your petty thoughts, letting your shoulders slump in resignation.

“Not a word to the others!” you hiss, jabbing your finger forcefully in Seokjin's face. It's crucial to drive the point home; the last thing you need is for the rest of your friends to find out. The mere thought of enduring their endless teasing is unbearable.

Seokjin mimics zipping his mouth shut with exaggerated hand gestures, and you shoot him a stern glare for good measure, silently urging him to grasp the gravity of your seriousness.

Seokjin accompanies you into the living room, where Jimin lounges on a couch, wearing that infuriatingly smug expression. Despite the lingering resentment, he acknowledges you with a subtle nod, licking his lips teasingly. A shiver snakes down your spine at the suggestive gesture, and you can't shake the feeling that this evening is destined to be nothing short of torturous.

The music pulses through the air, creating a lively atmosphere that encourages conversation with friends. Despite the chatter and laughter around you, there's an undeniable sensation of being watched. Your attempts to catch up with girlfriends are accompanied by the persistent feeling of a gaze, like smoldering embers, leaving your skin tingling with heat. 

It's Jimin, his captivating dark brown eyes following your every move, setting you ablaze amidst the festive chaos.

Despite your best efforts to steer clear of him throughout the evening, the inevitable moment arrives when dinner is served. The grand table is a vision of Christmas elegance, adorned with festive ornaments and pristine white plates boasting delicate gold rims. As you approach, the once plentiful seats have dwindled, leaving only two vacant spots side by side. The realization hits you like a silent shock – everyone is settled in their places, except for one person: Park Jimin.

A smirk dances on Jimin's lips as your eyes lock, and with a gentlemanly flourish, he pulls out the chair for you. The attention of your friends is inevitably drawn to the unfolding scene, their curious glances making you squirm. You take your seat, feeling the weight of Jimin's gaze as he elegantly settles his perfect plump ass in the chair beside you.

Amidst the lingering stares and unspoken questions, you divert your attention to the spread before you, purposefully loading your plate with an array of delectable dishes. The clinking of cutlery becomes a welcome distraction, and for a brief moment, you find solace from the constant scrutiny of Jimin's eyes that have tracked your every move since you arrived.

Engulfed in the lively chatter around the table, you savor each bite while selectively tuning in to the diverse conversations unfolding. The clinking of cutlery and the hum of laughter weave a symphony that, for a moment, allows you to lose yourself in the festive atmosphere.

Your senses tingle as a warm sensation caresses your thigh, an unmistakable touch that sends a jolt of awareness through your entire being.

A rush of longing surges through you, an electric pulse that ignites every nerve, and without needing to glance down, you're keenly aware of Jimin's hand, a potent source of warmth, intimately tracing the contour of your thigh. As he gives it a firm, possessive squeeze, you close your eyes, surrendering to the tantalizing dance of desire that envelops you.

A relentless wave of need courses through you, the mere touch of Jimin's hand on your thigh igniting a fiery pool of arousal in your core. It's almost absurd, the intensity of your response—his hand, just on your thigh, and yet it feels as if the entire universe has conspired to stoke the flames of desire within you.

His attention remains fixed on the conversation with Namjoon, his eyes avoiding yours, but the impact of his touch on your thigh is impossible to ignore. The simple act of eating becomes an insurmountable challenge as his hand, like a brand, leaves an indelible mark on your senses. The silk of your dress offers little resistance to the searing heat emanating from his touch, rendering the task of composing yourself an elusive feat.

You grit your teeth, attempting to conceal your mounting frustration, and in a clandestine exchange of glances with Seokjin seated across from you, you're convinced he sees right through the charade. Damn it all.

Jimin's hands persist in their exploration, journeying beneath your dress and ascending higher on your thigh. A stifled gasp escapes your lips, your attempt to conceal the pleasure coursing through you as his fingers delicately trace the contours of your panties.

Your mind races as he inches perilously close to your core, your pussy pulsating with anticipation. Damn, the intensity of the sensation is overwhelming.

His apparent nonchalance fuels your frustration. How can he engage in casual conversation with Namjoon, seemingly unfazed, while his hand stealthily explores the contours of your thigh beneath the table? The audacity, especially in the midst of your friends, leaves you seething with a mix of desire and irritation.

His fingers delicately dance over the fabric that shields your pulsating core, sending a shiver down your spine. Conflicting desires surge within you – an undeniable craving for his touch and the hesitation born from the inappropriate setting, surrounded by the prying eyes of your friends.

With deliberate slowness, he trails his fingers along the edge of your panties, expertly sliding them to the side. A single finger ventures into your slick folds, and an involuntary exclamation of desire escapes your lips. Fuck!

Panic and pleasure collide within you as your body ignites with an uncontrollable fire. Fumbling for composure, you desperately try to conceal the intoxicating sensations Jimin's hand is orchestrating beneath the table. Casting a surreptitious glance at your friends, relief washes over you—it appears they remain oblivious to the clandestine dance Jimin is leading on your fevered skin. Thank god.

Your entire being tenses as an electric current courses through you, a silent struggle unfolding within as you grapple with the urge to control your escalating breaths, ensuring each intake is hushed and every gasp remains concealed.

Jimin's fingers expertly plunge in and out of you, a relentless rhythm that leaves you quivering in your seat. The addition of a second digit amplifies the sensations, intensifying the shivers that course through you. Fuck you, Park Jimin!

You shoot him an incredulous look, but he remains unfazed, deep in conversation with Namjoon as if his fingers aren't skillfully working their magic on you. Frustration bubbles within you, the tightening knot in your stomach threatening to unravel. Shit.

His fingers abandon your pulsating core, and just when you dare to hope for a reprieve, he redirects his attention to your swollen clit. Electric jolts course through your body, and an involuntary flinch escapes you, catching the curious gaze of your friends. The intensity of his touch threatens to betray the secrets you're desperately trying to keep under wraps.

“Are you okay?” Concern etches across Hoseok's face as he leans in, his voice laced with worry. His eyes search yours, dissecting the panic in your stare and the sudden gasp that escaped your lips.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you lift your chin and strive for confidence as you reply, “Y-yes.”

Even as the words leave your lips, their uncertainty rings in your ears, a desperate plea that he won't press for more answers.

The sensation of Jimin's fingers expertly tracing figure eights on your clit sends electric chills down your entire body. Your thighs clench involuntarily, and you find yourself biting your lip, desperately trying to stifle any sounds that might betray the pleasure coursing through you. It's a delicate dance between ecstasy and secrecy, his skilled touch weaving a spell that makes it increasingly difficult to maintain your composure.

As Jimin's fingers work their magic, your heart races, and the sensation is akin to running a marathon. A lone bead of sweat forms on your hairline, evidence of the intensity building within you. Fuck Jimin, unraveling you like this in front of your friends. The promise of payback simmers in your mind, determined to teach him a lesson he won't soon forget.

As your breath quickens, the telltale signs of impending release manifest—quivering thighs betraying your desperation. 

You're on the verge, yearning to pry Jimin's hand away from your pulsating core. The last thing you want is to climax in front of your friends; the situation is already precarious. Imagining their potential disgust only adds to the thrill. 

The forbidden allure of the moment perplexes you—why does the idea of their judgment fuel your arousal?

Despite your futile attempts to swat his hand away, Jimin remains resolute, intensifying his efforts to push you over the edge. A determined glint in his eyes, he skillfully manipulates your senses. As he continues to stimulate your clit, a rush of liquid heralds your surrender, leaving you slumped against the table, your body succumbing to the waves of pleasure.

An electric surge courses through your body, causing every muscle to tighten, your clit pulsating beneath his expert touch. Desperately trying to collect yourself and avoid drawing attention, you navigate the fine line between pleasure and discretion.

Yoongi's concern cuts through the haze, and he observes, “Are you alright? You seem out of it.”

A quiet, low moan escapes your lips, and in that moment, you become acutely aware of how disheveled and spent you must appear—fatigued and lost in a dazed gaze. Rising from your chair, Jimin's hand reluctantly withdraws from your core, and as your dress gracefully descends with your movement, you manage to murmur, “T-toilet,” your chest heaving with the lingering waves of lust.

In a frenzied hurry, you bolt into the bathroom, your hands gripping the edge of the sink, and you confront your disheveled, panting reflection in the mirror. It feels pathetic, the way Jimin effortlessly coaxed an orgasm from you under the table, using only his fingers. The realization hits hard – you are undeniably and thoroughly fucked. 

Inhaling deeply, you attempt to steady yourself just as the bathroom door creaks open, heralding the impending return to the outside world.

As you gaze into the mirror, the source of your overwhelming frustration materializes before you: none other than Park Jimin.

You emit a hiss, a potent blend of frustration and arousal, as your eyes lock with his. Despite the turmoil, you can't deny the magnetic pull of his irresistible gaze, a look saturated with sin, his eyes half-lidded, and his tongue seductively gliding across his lips.

You sense your core clenching with a frustrating ache, an insistent reminder of desire for the infuriating man you both despise and secretly crave.

He teasingly presents his fingers to you, wiggling them suggestively as a sly grin plays on his lips, “You came.”

Your gaze locks onto him in utter disbelief—did he stroll around casually with your essence adorning his fingers?

“Suck them dry,” he commands, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he surveys the aftermath—your flushed cheeks and the deep rhythm of your breaths.

His words linger in the air, a challenge you're quick to accept. Without hesitation, you wrap your lips around his digits, tasting the remnants of your essence. His low groan reverberates as he watches you skillfully suck him dry, a silent dance of desire between you.

With each deliberate suck, you reclaim every trace of your essence from his fingers. When the task is accomplished, you fix him with an intense gaze, a silent challenge in your eyes, daring him to unleash the pent-up desire that simmers between you.

“Can’t stop thinking about me?” 

Your gaze locks with his, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you bat your lashes, feigning a sense of dominion you both know is illusory. He meets your challenge with a smug smirk, dragging his tongue over his lips, and in that moment, the taste of him floods your senses, a lingering memory that refuses to be forgotten.

You want more so you decide to match Jimin's honesty with your own vulnerability. As the words escape your lips, confessing, 'I can't get you out of my head either,' a gust of candid truth hangs in the air. The charged atmosphere between you two becomes palpable, an electric tension that leaves you yearning, your desperation laid bare.

With a sultry whisper, you proposition him, your voice dripping with desire. Your eyes linger provocatively on the pronounced bulge in his pants as you suggest, “I can suck you off. It’s the least I can do.”

He skillfully unbuckles his belt, swiftly unzips his pants, and sensually lowers both his trousers and underwear, unveiling his throbbing, substantial dick that eagerly springs forth.

Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips, the lingering taste of him still fresh in your memory, and an undeniable yearning builds within you, an insatiable desire to descend upon him just as you did in the heated confines of the car a mere few hours ago.

He strides purposefully toward the toilet, ceremoniously lowering the seat, and with a provocative gesture, positions himself on it, legs enticingly spread, an open invitation for you to draw near and indulge in the feast of his dick.

You swiftly descend to your knees on the welcoming warmth of Seokjin's floor, grateful for the cozy indulgence of heated tiles. Running your tongue across your lips, you seize his throbbing cock with a determined hand, evoking a hiss of pleasure from his lips.

“Fuck! I missed you.”

“It's only been a few hours, Jimin,” you chuckle before enveloping his pulsating dick in your saliva-coated warmth. He fills your mouth perfectly, and you establish a steady rhythm, savoring the delicious anticipation in the air.

You skillfully handle what can't fit in your mouth, teasing with your hand. Jimin throws his head back, emitting a delicious moan in response to your artistry. Sucking him off with an intensity that borders on desperation, you flatten your tongue and expertly play with his frenulum, eliciting a hiss and soft moan from him.

With a firm grip on your hair, he tugs at your ponytail once more. Drool drips from your mouth as you glide over his cock, expertly hollowing your cheeks to create the perfect suction.

His fingers tighten in your hair, urging you further. Breathing in and out through your nose, you navigate down to his pubic hairs, humming sensually around his dick. The subtle shiver you feel from him fills you with a sense of pride, knowing the impact you're having on him.

“Fuck. You’re so good,” he moans, pulling your hair tighter in his grip, the raw desire in his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Shit, I’m close already,” he gasps, his voice breathy with anticipation, and you can sense the pulsating urgency of his cock in your mouth, signaling that he's on the brink of release.

Unexpectedly, you withdraw from his throbbing cock, leaving him suspended on the precipice of release. His eyes widen in disbelief, watching as you sensually lick your lips, a spark of mischief and fiery playfulness dancing in your gaze.

“Brat. Finish what you started!” 

His demand hangs in the air, laden with urgency, but you defiantly shake your head, a smug smirk playing on your lips. In this tantalizing game of desire, you've decided to level the playing field, returning the favor with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

With a sly smirk stretching across your face, you assertively declare, “No.” Your lustful desire is unmistakable as you deliberately pull away, leaving him hanging. “You made me come in front of our friends, embarrassing me. So now,” you add with determined confidence, “you don't get to come.” 

As you swing the door open, you exit, leaving him in the bathroom, his fully erect dick on full display, a silent challenge echoing in the air.

“Fucking brat!” His voice reverberates through the air, a raw and frustrated yell, trailing after you as you make your exit.

A mischievous laughter escapes your lips, an odd mix of satisfaction and empowerment swirling within you. Striding back to the table with your friends, you effortlessly dive back into the conversation, as if leaving Jimin high and dry is just another casual move in your repertoire. 

There's a subtle thrill in knowing that maybe, just maybe, you've imparted a lesson on not messing with you.

After a few minutes, Jimin saunters back to the table, and you can't help but notice the lingering outline of his arousal beneath his pants. Apparently, he didn't tend to his needs as you assumed he would. The intrigue in the air grows thicker, adding a layer of curiosity to the already charged atmosphere.

The remainder of the evening unfolds without any further advances from Jimin, and despite the undeniable tension in the air, you manage to restrain yourself, keeping your hands to yourself. The pulsating undercurrent of arousal lingers, fueled solely by the magnetic pull of Jimin's presence.

Dinner concludes, and after lending a hand with the cleanup, the music swells to an even higher volume, enticing people to the dance floor. Amid the lively atmosphere, you join in the dance with your girlfriends, playfully swaying your hips to the rhythm. The pulsating energy is infectious, but beneath the neon lights and thumping beats, you sense Jimin's intense gaze fixed on yours once more.

Sensations of arousal ignite within you, yearning for a more intimate connection that goes beyond the pulsating dance floor. Amidst the crowd, you feel a magnetic pull, a desire for his crotch to be the one you're grinding against. However, such an encounter isn't suitable in the presence of your friends. Suddenly, Jimin materializes on the dance floor, seizing your hand and drawing you into a close embrace. His warm breath grazes your ear as he utters, “Come with me, brat.”

He pulls you away from the pulsating crowd of friends, a flicker of distress in your eyes, yet a clandestine thrill seeping through your veins. The covert glances from your friends affirm that they caught the provocative scene. With determination, he leads you into a secluded room, the door securing your privacy with a decisive click.

His eyes blaze with an inferno of lust, an intensity that borders on fury. There's a dangerous edge to his gaze, and he licks his lips with a hunger that suggests he's poised to consume you whole.

“Some nerve you have,” he begins, a low growl in his voice as he presses you backward, drawing you closer to a waiting bed, its presence dawning on you like an ominous realization.

Nervousness courses through your body, a relentless tide, as he exerts control over you with the sheer dominance of his presence.

“Leaving me like that, you fucking brat,” he hisses, forcefully pushing you down onto the bed.

Despite your nerves, a chuckle escapes your lips, “Well, I think it was only fair.”

“Do you?” he raises an eyebrow, his face hovering dangerously close to yours, the air thick with anticipation.

“Fuck. What do you do to me?” he murmurs, diving in to kiss your lips. Your hands instinctively find his cheeks, and you melt into the soft, plush sensation of his mouth, lost in the intoxicating dance of his lips.

Instantly, your body relaxes, and you wrap your legs around his waist, provocatively pressing your core against his erect dick, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from him.

“I could say the same to you,” you pant, “and I don't even like you. I don't understand,” you murmur between kisses, grappling with the conflicting emotions that the intensity of the moment brings.

“But I want you. Damn it, I want you to fuck me so bad,” you confess with a breathless mixture of desire and urgency, punctuating your words with a daring roll of your hips, leaving no room for ambiguity about your craving for him.

“Fuck.”

He unbuckles his belt with a purpose, the metallic clink resonating with the promise of what's to come. Swiftly, he unzips his pants and skillfully lowers them along with his underwear, gracefully joining you on the bed with a hunger in his eyes.

His arousal is evident, his dick appearing more heated and flushed than ever. The crimson hue tells a tale of the desire he harbors, heightened by your previous act of leaving him hanging and hungry for more.

“You’re such a brat. I’ll fuck you senseless.” His voice, a sultry promise, sends shivers down your spine. With a self-assured stroke of his dick, he spreads your legs, deftly teasing your underwear aside. 

Hovering above you, his breath dances on your skin as he murmurs in your ear, “I’m going to shut that pretty mouth of yours up.”

Your body quivers in response as he deftly lifts your legs over his shoulders. In this moment, he appears both commanding and delicate, a paradox you can't help but be drawn to. As your moans escape, his eyes light up, as if you hold the key to his universe. Yet, the bitter truth remains—you are enemies, drowning in mutual hatred despite the intensity of the desire that binds you.

His fingers dance over your sensitive folds, ensuring the cascade of wetness that engulfs you. You're a river in anticipation, and he chuckles, pulling back a glistening digit to savor your essence. His words, whispered with satisfaction, echo in the room, “You taste so good.”

You moan, your body craving his touch, and impatiently inquire, “What's the hold up?”' as you yearn for him to fulfill his promise to ravish you.

In the dim light, he chuckles down at you, gripping his hard dick once more and skillfully aligning it with your eager entrance. The head of his cock nudges your folds, eliciting a desperate mewl of pleasure from your lips. Despite the intense disdain you harbor for him, all you crave now is to feel him deep inside you.

With a powerful thrust, he impales you on his dick, plunging deep into your core with reckless abandon. A primal scream of his name tears from your throat, echoing in the room, encapsulating the sheer intensity of the moment. “Fuck, Jimin!”

His grin turns wicked, a hint of danger in his eyes, as he accelerates, showing no mercy and denying you any chance to acclimate. Every powerful thrust widens and fulfills you in the most exquisite way, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

Though mere hours have passed, the yearning for his dick consumes your thoughts. The magnetic pull of his desire leaves your mind shrouded in dangerous fantasies that dance provocatively through the corridors of your consciousness.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight.”

Moans of pleasure escape his lips, breathless and raw, as he utters your name in a fevered whisper. Holding your legs aloft, he thrusts into you, skillfully navigating the depths, each movement a calculated dance that hits your soft spot with precision, sending ripples of ecstasy through your body.

His intoxicating scent envelops your senses, a heady mix of musk that clouds your mind. The rhythmic dance of his tie brushing against your dress on your tummy mirrors the cadence of his thrusts.

Amidst the tumultuous waves of pleasure, you find yourself caught in a paradox of conflicting emotions. “Fuck, Jimin. I hate you. I don't understand,” you blabber, your words intertwining with the rhythmic surges of arousal coursing through your body. With each relentless thrust, the coil in your stomach tightens, weaving a complex tapestry of desire and disdain.

“I do,” he utters, punctuating his words with a forceful thrust that reverberates through your core, causing a symphony of sensations to cascade through your body.

“You like me, that's why,” he pants, each powerful thrust resonating through your pussy, an electrifying dance of pleasure and desire. It's a truth you're reluctant to acknowledge, and as your heart races, you turn your head away, unable to meet his intense gaze, even as your body betrays your feelings.

“No, no, you look at me while I fuck you, brat,” he seethes with anger. He presses himself down on you, your legs parting to rest on the sides of his arms. His hands find their way around your throat, giving it a light squeeze as he maintains the fast pace of his hard thrusts. The intensity in his eyes matches the fervor of the moment, a collision of passion and dominance that leaves you breathless.

He forces you to turn your head toward him, and the grip on your throat tightens even more. “Just admit that you like me, brat,” he demands, his voice a potent blend of authority and desire, making your heart race as you navigate the thin line between resistance and surrender.

Your mind swirls in a hazy mist, a product of his presence or the firm grip around your neck — it's hard to discern. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, there's an undeniable thrill that courses through you, a strange liking for the intoxicating blend of dominance and desire.

Released from his grasp, you inhale desperately, your breaths echoing the tumultuous whirlwind of emotions within. With the tightening coil in your stomach, you reluctantly admit, “Fine... I don't hate you.”

His hands reclaim your throat, a firm grip that mingles pleasure and restraint, synchronized with the rhythmic precision of his thrusts hitting every exquisite spot within you. “That's not good enough, brat,” he growls, his control both intoxicating and exhilarating.

“I know you like me, because your body tells me so,”

“I know you like it when I choke you, because you clench so much around me when I do,”

“Your body can’t lie, brat.”

Holy fuck. He’s right. At least in some parts. Your mind is a tempest of desire, clouded with thoughts of him, and suddenly you’re screaming, the sound muffled by his firm hands around your throat. Your body spasms uncontrollably, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing around his pulsating dick.

“Fuck. Yeah, cream my dick, brat.” he maintains his relentless thrusts, your orgasm surging through you like a wild storm, leaving you with a symphony of sensations and a loud ringing sound in your ears.

His hands finally release their grip on your neck, and you find yourself panting for air, gasping his name with a mixture of desperation and lust, “J-Jimin, fuck.”

“You’re doing so good. Even if you behave like a brat. Fuck. I’m so close.”

And then his thrusts become erratic and even more frantic, as he desperately seeks his own climax.

“Fuck, Jimin, just like that!” you scream as he relentlessly targets your sweet spot, igniting the familiar coil in your stomach once more. Fuck.

Jimin seems to sense your escalating pleasure, and one of his hands skillfully finds your clit, circling it with a tantalizing touch that nearly makes you scream. “Shit!”

He skillfully pinches your clit, and suddenly, you see stars—you're gone. Squirts of your release gush out, painting his pubic hairs, and Jimin gazes down at you. You thrash around the bed, frantically breathing, your muscles tightening as your vision becomes a canvas of small, white dots.

“Damn. You just squirted all over me,” he breathes in a soft voice, a hint of adoration laced within. However, you can't really decipher his tone as you're lost in the moment, your ears ringing again.

“Damn, that's hot,” he exclaims and thrusts into you again, releasing his warm load inside you with a scream of your name.

He continues to thrust into your core, the rhythm slowing down to a more sensual pace. Your body feels dazed and sweaty, the dress clinging uncomfortably to your skin, the satin now undoubtedly soaked through.

You gasp for air, still catching your breath. “Fucking hell, that was amazing, Jimin.” He chuckles, offering you a gentle smile that quickly transforms into his trademark smirk.

His laughter dances through the air, accompanied by a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know, we can totally do this again,” he says, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. You can't help but roll your eyes, though deep down, the idea doesn't seem entirely unwelcome. Keeping a sense of mystery, you respond with a playful glint in your eyes, “Maybe.” The rebellion in your spirit mirrors the dance of sparks between you, a familiar game of push and pull that seems destined to continue.

“Brat.” 

He chuckles, yet defies the teasing nickname by bending down to kiss you; it’s sweet and tender, a stark contrast to how he just fucked your brains out.

You cast a dismayed gaze at your drenched dress, muttering, “I can't go out in this,” and you groan, feeling the uncomfortable cling of the fabric to your skin, an unwelcome sensation adding to the aftermath of your heated encounter.

“How about we raid Seokjin’s closet?” he suggests, winking with a playful lift of his brows and a light chuckle.

“Is this Seokjin’s room? Did we just fuck on his bed? Damn, he’s going to be furious!” You burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation. “No way! Imagine if everyone finds out we fucked.” You shriek, wildly waving your hands in the air, the possibility suddenly sinking in.

“Why are you so hell-bent on keeping it a secret?” he asks, genuinely curious, a playful glint in his eyes as he chuckles at your distress.

“Because you're my sworn enemy,” you state matter-of-factly, giving a nonchalant shrug.

“Are you sure about that?” he teases, his eyebrows wiggling playfully. You can't help but roll your eyes at his cheeky demeanor once again.

“And I think they already know,” he laughs, amusement dancing in his eyes as he observes your irritated expression. You groan into your hands, grappling with the realization that he might be right. However, you're determined to cling to any shred of hope you can find.

“We'll just stay up here until my dress is dry,” you declare, as if it's the most brilliant plan you can conjure. Jimin chuckles, his gaze lingering over your heaving form with a hunger that ignites a spark of desire. He licks his lips, suggesting, “Then take it off. That way, it'll dry faster, and we can go for round two in a moment.”

[weebsinstash]

I noticed you bitches like drama and men being just a little pathetic so you know what I've been thinking of lately. Wouldn't it be so funny if you got a red string of fate, you know, whole destined soulmate shebang, but you've got two of them, and on the ends are MORTAL ENEMIES WHO WOULD RATHER KILL EACH OTHER THAN SHARE YOU

I want you DEAD, in HELL, finding out you've got one string for Vox and one string for Alastor and they HAAAAAATE IT, at each other's throats IMMEDIATELY

I want you walking down the street, somehow magically the perfect distance from both of them when your strings appear for the very first time, two leading in opposite directions. Like I picture Vox is broadcasting live and his string suddenly appears and, he tries to play it cool because he's on the air but he's clearly excited and geeking out a little, but, wait his string disappears? And reappears? And disappears? And homie is hooked up to his little TV network, and he finally notices and sees through one of the tvs on some street corner somewhere, there you are, stepping forward, back, forward, back, kind of just, making your string go in and out of the whole 'distance rule', still obviously shocked yourself, and you just awkwardly look up to the tv and flash a clearly very nervous smile, "oh hey, um, I think this is us maybe?" and nervously holding up the hand attached to his string

Meanwhile you turn to look in the other strings direction and Alastor is Suddenly Just There. He's pulling a fucking Batman on you where you just turn around and he's all but silently materialized directly behind you and you're nearly falling over yelping in surprise.

THEN VOX AND ALASTOR SEE EACH OTHER AND SEE THE STRINGS AND IT'S ON SIGHT. Vox is just slamming his hands down on his desk, "NO, FUCK OFF ALASTOR, GET YOUR OWN SOULMATE" meanwhile Alastor is. Slightly more composed but his ears are pressed back and he's grating his teeth as he looks between you, who he's already so eager to get to know everything about, and his old business partner and he's immediately growling out an "Absolutely NOT"

I want you awkwardly flipping between both of these men like Hell's most precarious drama filled job interview. "OK well, his head is literally a TV so I bet he likes video games like I do whereas you don't seem the type, BUT, Vox is also just kind of a mean person? And Alastor you're a fucking cannibal serial killer? But we kinda have similar values.... but I love tech.... HE would make me feel smart and YOU I feel like would threaten my intelligence and make me feel stupid and-- oh my god is that literally it, am I so crazy i get both of you to balance me out in different ways. What about you guys. You guys ever make out with each other or anything--"

Like these two are wanting to get to know you and bond with you and I just picture Alastor is repeatedly suggesting you two go to a diner or a cafe or somewhere to grab a bite to eat (and also because he TOTALLY isn't trying to lead you away from the TVs on the street) and Vox is like having a little hissy fit through the screen but he's keeping his distance because he knows if he faced Alastor head on he would wreck his shit

But like.... imagine scenario c where you don't want either one of them and you're just like IMMEDIATELY "uh, no, no thank you? I actually um, am not looking for a relationship right now, and, uh, also you're both just. Awful. You're both just legitimately awful people and I don't want anything to do with either of you or all the drama you cause, quite frankly you guys can go make out with each other and I think we would all be better off" cause. I mean it was already a competition to win your heart but this is Even Worse because both of them are trying to "win you over" before the other one can and they're just SMOTHERING YOU. Like imagine one of your strings appearing and there's a knock at your door and suddenly your other string appears and you're hearing arguing voices outside and you open your front door and they're like. Strangling each other on your doorstep. Immediately pushing their way into your apartment and commenting on all your belongings

Alastor just like sarcastically commenting on all your tech while Vox is thrilled you have things in common. You and Vox just deliberately using modern slang and pop culture lingo just to annoy him by saying shit he either can't understand, finds annoying, or both. Vox thumbing through your cds and chiding you for having older music in your collection while Alastor tells him he's too low intelligence to appreciate the classics and starts asking you about your tastes in more 'retro' things. The entire time both of them are looking at each other "try not to break anything you clumsy oaf" *meanwhile is picking up and touching all your shit himself*

And of course... imagine the drama if you reject them and they catch you out on the take for another man. They scour the city looking everywhere for you, even TEAMING UP because they want to find you that badly, and they find you in a club in some dude's lap dangerously wasted as you put your tongue down his throat. You're all but riding the dude to kiss him. And finally Alastor and Vox are agreeing on something! You're PEELED off that man and, wherever he goes you sure don't know because you're WASTED! You're just giggling and messing around, swirling your finger in circles on their arms/chests, "oh my gosh, itssssyouuuuu guys!! Heyyyyy!!!! Come have drinks with me and my new friends!!!" and you're just so drunk they're uncomfortable with it. Alastor is getting some unpleasant nostalgia and Vox is worried how many other people are in this club, having their eyes all over you, Lucifer only knows what all you've been up to

If they find you with hickies or some shit on your neck you basically lose Personhood Privileges. You're like. Getting carried out of there, Alastor's just scooping you up, "cmon darlin!" and you're so drunk you're just like "oh my gosh you're so strong ☺️🥰 wheeeeeee~" and, you're just drunkenly slurring and being chatty and asking them all kinds of questions (and maybe saying some real inappropriate shit that makes them nervous about leaving you alone or around other men), meanwhile they're, like, carting you off to one of Alastor's secret hideouts or Vox has a hidden apartment to get his own space away from the Vees, you're just getting toast and water and getting tucked in still really fucked up as they're doing everything from, Alastor dutifully removing all your makeup to Vox helping take off your shoes for them to tuck you into bed. You're just drunkenly purring with contentment as one of them throws a blanket over you and you're just nice and burrito'd up, already falling asleep

Imagine they're just about to leave the room and you're just, so quiet and soft and, "... that guy i was with... wouldnt take no for an answer, so... i was just... kissing him so he maybe would leave me alone... but then he kept asking for more... I don't know what I would've done if you guys hadn't shown up. Thank you" and just rolling over and conking out as both men stare at you like the shocked tails meme

By the time you're waking up, you're stumbling out of the bedroom to see them both still there with you, politely chatting over some coffee and scrambling up to you now that you're awake, leaving you more than just a little confused. Wait, the two of them are getting along now? Well, your little disappearing act and all the little stunts you've pulled made them realize that, they both individually have their own strengths and weaknesses, and, they even wound needing to work together to help you, and, really isn't that just so indicative of times to come? Clearly you DO need both of them, and, maybe just maybe if it's for your sake and safety, they can set their differences aside. Heck, maybe even teaming up to help find you and just, figure this whole mess out in general reminded both of them of old times. Maybe they even missed their old friend a little bit. Maybe if you get them drunk and horny enough you can even get them to make ou--

[blackknight-kai]

here's something for you :) Sun Wukong and Destined One weren't taking a fight seriously, they probably should have been. and when they get knocked on their butt, their mortal friend/so/partner, who before now couldn't lift the staff, not only lifts the staff, but also kicks the opponent's butt for them. of course their mortal friend/so/partner is exhausted and maybe physically shaking from the adrenaline of what happened. but their friend/so/partner is worried about them still.

DUDE/FRIEND/ANON

This wont be long, BUT I am the ‘mom’ friend or actually the ‘scary dog’ friend and I will square up if my friend/so is in danger. I will breath hell fire, so honestly? If it was ever possible to lift that staff for reader, be it sheer determination and adrenaline then HELL YES. (I dont think it would be but we are gonna play it up.)

Reader getting so PROTECTIVE of the silly monkey is amazing! Just that anger and determination of “You will NOT hurt him!” And showing the enemy who the real boss is even if before this moment they haven’t defeated or fought someone like this before, if they fought at all. The anger and fear coursing through them would be an absolute raging storm and they are not going to let anything happen to their monkey on their watch.

When it’s over, reader is panting and definitely sore. The adrenaline and focus starts to wear off though after and reader would have to drop the staff immediately and would run to SWK/DO or well, wobble on shaking legs. He would be STUNNED. Flabbergasted. Mouth hanging open and just “What the fuck did I just witness” before regaining composure (kinda) and now hes just worried about reader and “YOU LIFTED MY STAFF ARE YOU OKAY ARE YOU GOING TO DIE?” Or something. He would pull them into his arms as they fall making sure they dont hit the ground and he would VOW to never ever do that again, that while he may get cocky is NOT going to put you in a situation where you have to get into such danger or lift his heavy as fuck weapon. He’d learned a valuable lesson that day no to fuck around too much and find out.

Reader probably passes out honestly, and their body is waaaaaaay over taxed so he’d have to carry reader for a bit or get them somewhere safe. He is in AWE of them though, that they would push themselves so far to protect him, it wont even hurt his ego (after he sits down and meditates about it) because it shows how much you CARED for him - just as he cares for you and protects you.

[jdragsky]

my wizard is gonna have such insane daddy issues

[image descriptions under read more]

Image 1: a picklist from the tabletop RPG Seven Part Pact which reads:

Your master taught you the practice of Necromancy, although he is now dead. How did he teach you? How did he die? Choose 1 which is known and, perhaps, 1 which you suspect. No matter the circumstances, he now guards the 8th Gate of Death.

He was a stern and wizened man, rather like a father for you, who raised you from the earliest age to follow his footsteps. He gave his life to hold the Gates and keep his most hated enemy at bay (perhaps it was King Morrog).

He was an awkward man, who preferred to read instead of talking, and was often negligent. He was betrayed by another Wizard in a moment of weakness (perhaps it was by the Warlock's master).

He was a charming man, barely older than you, who found you working as a petty ghoul-caller in the slums of Isha. He was executed by the King of Isha for treason and adultery. 

He was a quiet man, who rescued you from the edge of death and restored you to life, teaching you silently. One day he simply gave you his fragment of the Pact and departed into Death, never to return.

He was a cruel man, who stole you away from some faraway isle, and taught you most unpleasantly. You took his life to preserve the Seven-Part Pact, although you still wonder if it was the right choice.

You never met the former Necromancer, for you were chosen by the other Wizards to fill a vacant seat within the Pact. He taught you still, in visions and in death.

You learned your magic from the carrion-birds and open graves of the Graven Isle, and needed no master to guide your hand in matters of necromancy.

Image 2: a picklist from the tabletop RPG Seven Part Pact which reads:

You are a man, as all Wizards are. However within your heart you know:

While you are young, your hair is gray, and you can feel the icy touch of death within your bones and quickly-beating heart.

You are a dead man walking, your destined doom a black dog which bites at your heels and follows where you go.

You were once a woman, but many years ago you disguised yourself as a man and became a Wizard in secret.

While on the streets of Isha you are a woman, you adopt the form of a man to work with death.

While many see you as a man, some part of you knows you are truly a woman.

You are neither man nor woman, for such mortal matters are little concern to those who have seen the far reaches of death and returned.

There is an even greater secret, which is for you and you alone.

[catulhu333]

Khaine and Khorne being directly stated to be the same

While this is an often discussed theory, or that the two are at least closely connected, and many hints of it in lore/fluff, there are at least two instances in canon were this was directly stated. First one is very old, from the 1988 article "Witch Elves!" in White Dwarf #108: "The Kryrnaa are an ancient order, founded during the early dark days of the building of Naggarond. They had turned from the worship of Slaanesh soon after their exile from the Elven Kingdoms, and, still drawn by the allure of Chaos, took the murderous Khaine as their new Master. For many centuries the Krynaa were a secret order, their name heard only in the whisperings of dark passages, but their numbers slowly grew. And as the Krynaa increased in strength, there came the inevitable conflict with the Dru Perim. For Khaine is that aspect of the Blood God recognised by the Druchii, and the Blood God, known to other races as Khorne, is the sworn enemy of Slaanesh."

The second time, is much newer excerpt, from 2006's Liber Chaotica:

"Of Pleasure And Rage

Behold! For I speak to you from the Shadows - the Great Darkness, that gives meaning to all Light. At the heart of this Realm, shrouded and unclear, stands the Powers of Chaos, locked in each other's embrace, hated lovers and eternal companions.

These Four are like points upon a compass - none are close and some are opposite. War and Pleasure are two such opposites, facing each other across eternity, hating and warring, two ideals seperated by an impassable gulf of Belief and Purpose. For Khorne is discipline, hardness, suffering and rage, while Slaanesh is indulgence, beauty, ecstasy and lust. Their opposition is carved upon the knucklebones of fate and conflict can be their only recourse.

Yet how mightier is Khorne than his delight-filled sibling! Oldest of gods and greatest of warriors, Khorne's armies stretch from infinity to infinity to infinity and the Pleasure God may not rival Him. But this was not always so. For in the days when the Slaanesh, Last Born and Most Beautiful, strove for existence, His power waxed stronger than all other gods, be they seperate or together, and it seemed as though His spiteful triumph would destroy the Balance in the Warp.

But as is ever the case, Khorne was there to stem the flow of Delight. He saw the growth of His youngest sibling, and hated Him even before his birth. With His mighty arms, Khorne sought to crush the life from Slaanesh before He had even left His womb, but the war god had not counted on the passion of Slaanesh's creators, and the harder He squeezed the greater the pressure became to drive His arms apart.

The war god fought on. He sought to give all mortals time to bring an end to their corrupting decadence - the decadence that fed the nascent Power that was Slaanesh. But mortals are weak as gods are not, and though some used the time bought for them by Khorne to learn from their wicked ways, many others did not and sank ever deeper into indolence and debauchery.

Slaanesh's tempermental screams and self-tormenting nightmares echoed through the Aethyr, and insanity bloomed on every world. Terrible storms raged throughout Heaven and Hell, and rains of fire lashed across Khorne's back, but His grip ever stayed firm around His embryonic sibling. Freezing winds tore at His face and floods of poison crept up His legs, yet still the War God would not let go.

Then His brother came upon the scene. Decay stood there beside War.

"Give up," sighed Father Nurgle. "Give into what must be. It is the nature of things that morals decay and cultures must rot. Mortals cannot leave their destined path."

Khorne turned away from His brother and grasped His wrists all the tighter. Then a gust of coloured light brought there to the brothers the Changer of Ways, and Tzeentch gazed upon the War God with amusement and disdain.

"End this," he hissed. "For it must come to pass. Change is the constant that cannot be changed. We Three must be Four, so the Game has demanded. Be it now, be it later, our sibling must come."

But Khorne would have none of it. He rorared His fury until the universe shook, and the foundations of All That Is, All That Was, and All That Shall Be, threatened to crumble. His brothers left Him then, one with a sigh and one with a chuckle, for both knew that the ending was close.

Upon the Mortal Plane the wars had all ceased. All morals and laws had rotted away, and the change to conceit was almost done. The Three wavered as decadence took hold, and Slaanesh expanded beyond size and beyond measure. But Khorne, unable to see defeat, hung on to His charge though his arms were bent back and His body near-crushed. Then with a scream of release that ripped through the Warp, Slaanesh threw off His eldest brother and burst into being.

Such was the Event of Slaanesh's birth, the metal body that had contained Khorne's essence since He had slain Khaelis Ra, shattered into a thousand pieces that scattered across the dimensions. But though His soul had been freed from its silver prison, Khorne had not the strength to strike a counter blow against exultant Slaanesh, and so the Pleasure God was left to reap the souls of His mortal creators and set His Throne alongside those of His brothers. So it was that the Three became Four and the Eternal Pantheon was complete.

From whenever 'then' was, until wherever 'now' is, the gods have continued their unending dance, twirling each other through the minds and souls of mortals. First one leads and then another, each keeping step in this pavane of peril, a stately measure played out to the beating of human hearts.

None of these powers can ever truly win against its brothers, for, as the Great Conspirator did say, it is the nature of things that change is the only constant - and nowhere is this more true than within the shadow place that is Chaos.

Yet still the gods dance and their bellows of delight shake the universe.

from the 'Liber Maleficarum'. Restricted distribution 2405- I.C. by order of K. M. Eisel, Witch Hunter Captain"

(written down by Dreadnautilus on reddit, as the fragment was in handwriting in Liber Chaotica).

As seen in the fragment describes Khorne fighting and destroying K(h)aelis Ra (the Nightbringer), exactly like Khaine was described in lore from the same period (the short story, and in-universe Eldar myth "The Birth of Fear"). And being, or rather Khaine/Khorne's shell being shattered by Slaanesh.

Does it mean Khorne and Khaine are the same? Not necessarily. Even the fluff from Liber Chaotica implies they are no longer the same, being split by Slaanesh. It's also hard to tell if this fluff/lore is canon, especially seeing multiple elements from the White Dwarf #108 were directly retconned. Still, it does show there were instances were the two gods of war and blood were stated to be same.

combined artworks of Khaine by Jes Goodwin and Khorne by Ian Miller

[yandere-kokeshi]

Hello! So glad you're writing GoW now. Can I request headcanons for Heimdall? Or, maybe, a situation where he wants to marry a s/o who is a god from another pantheon?

— Yandere Heimdall Headcanons

Warnings: yandere behavior, kidnapping, and heimdall (he's a warning enough lol)

A/N: I’m horrible at picking, so I decided to do headcanons. Hope you enjoy our nasty man! <3

Got some of my headcanon ideas from @stupid-sloot-headcanons.

Possessive to a degree where it’s concerning. Absolutely hates having you leave his sight, and an impulsive freak. He acts on desires, whims, and the thought of you, his lovely darling, and him ruling beside Odin.

It’s hard to get his attention, that’s for sure. There are a few ways to do it, but at first, complicated terms are on how you two met. With his type of forte, personality, and loyalty towards Odin — it’s likely you are an enemy, or viewed as an enemy towards Heimdall. 

You could be a God, one with a rather strong ability to land a hit on him. And with this, it drives him insane. It cancels his attacks, simply overwhelming his senses, making him yell out before cowering away with rage. And with this, It’s only hatred – and envy towards you. 

In a rare chance, you could be a mortal, meeting him by direct combat. He looks down at you, at first. You’re human, nothing important to him nor Odin. But you’re immune to his humiliation and famous words of jabbing. You replied with the same amount of venom, which only leaves him heated.

Either way, it’s pure hatred with you. He despises you, watches you from afar with bitter thoughts. It only results in him stalking you, where he can learn everything about you — your weaknesses, insecurities, every fear, so he can humiliate you when the time comes. But, as he spends more time watching you – being more angered – Heimdall realizes he’s plagued by you; falling for your stupidity and loveable habits. 

He’s not entirely sure why. But you make his heart speed. Hands sweaty, and have his head full of ideas of you; smiling, laughing, even kissing him. It only results in more anger. How dare you make him feel this way? Don’t you realize how this will make him look at Allfather? An idiot is what you are. 

By small steps, his hatred slowly turns into obsession, and not that it already has, but you start to realize it. When he decides to visit you, ‘simply’ popping up where you are, Heimdall doesn’t insult you, but rather asks what your stupid brain is doing; twirling around you before teleporting you away within his circle. He does this a few times, watching your reaction and calming you down with a sarcastic sing-along. It’s only until the last time you meet up with him, he takes you away forever. 

The ‘home’ is in Asgard, a large room destined for the both of you. Even though he seems distant toward you and at times view you as a toy-to-play-with, he likes seeing you happy in his world as he keeps himself busy with Allfather’s duties. There are books, poems, and the will to roam around Gladsheim however you like. You can do whatever you want, but perhaps have the thought of avoiding others. 

His affection is overbearing and suffocating. He justifies himself over you, which means when he wants to touch you, he touches you however he likes. Though, he still wants you to view him as a God — so most of his touches are lenient; a hand on the shoulder, a kiss on the cheek, or a hand tightly wrapped on your waist that signifies that you are his. 

Heimdall’s anger is a weapon. It’s something not to be messed with, especially if it’s within the trap of jealousy. 

This said, he hates having you leave his side or even see you talking to someone else; beside Odin, that is. But anyone else, he becomes a mess: laughing, mocking the person, and eventually turning to you with deep, violet eyes. 

And this also hints at objects. If he sees you reading, or simply not paying attention to him, whatever you’re currently doing, is ripped to shreds. Your attention should be on him, not some stupid item that means nothing. You are his, aren’t you? 

Despite his mocking, and his inferiority complex, he’s kind towards you; he listens to you and ensures you’re in good health. Sure, if you whine about wanting to go home, he flips out and yells at you. But, if you don’t want to be touched or want to be left alone, he swallows up his annoyance with a smile of, “Fine.”

He spoils you, gifting you clothes that he knows you’ll like and wanting you to dress up nicely. And if he’s in a good mood, he’d love to do some training — wanting to see if you’re still as good as you were on that day. 

—

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[starry-bi-sky]

I am so interested in hearing more about the world building of your stillborn still-born au!

So what exactly is the burning mountain island and its ecosystem? And have you built out anything for the far frozen in return? Do the far frozen and molten lava island have relations or do they avoid each other? Are they friendly or enemies? Since the yetis of the far frozen are healer-warriors are the locals of the volcano also healer-warriors or are they something else? Does the volcano have an equivalent to Frostbite(maybe called heatstroke or something similar?) to help Danny with his powers and become his ally?

WHY I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED!

( @ishkagrante because they asked me the same thing)

The Molten Springs is a mega-island similar to the Far Frozen, but rather than being made up of extreme cold, it's made of extreme heat! The name "Molten Springs" is me playing with the words 'hot springs' and it stems from this fanart I saw a few years back of Vlad relaxing in a pool of lava and Danny being very judgy about it lmao. It's a large, mountainous-volcanic region made up of hundreds of mountains and volcanos. All the rivers, lakes, ponds, etc are made up of lava rather than water. It's extremely hot, as you would expect, and the further inland you go the hotter it gets as you come across more volcanic activity.

All greater rivers and lakes lead back to the center of the island, where Mt. Abzi (created from the word obsidian) stands, a massive active volcano that is thousands of feet tall and is constantly bubbling out lava and feeding it into the rivers. Two to sometimes three times a mortal year it fully erupts, shooting out a massive geyser beam of lava into the sky like a beacon, that lasts thirty minutes before cooling down for a few minutes or hours, before shooting up again. These cause what the locals call a "magma storm", which is basically the human equivalent of flood season because the lava that goes up must come down, and it rains down over the island. This can trigger other volcanoes into full eruption.

I've currently got two names for the greater rivers.

There's Ruzhu (created from the word Eruption), the river that leads over into the Ruzhi Canyon, a great canyon made of obsidian and igneous rock. It's a pretty popular tourist destination, if you get there when the firelight is low you can watch the light glitter and bounce off the walls.

Then there's Spicoria, a river that leads over into the mountain ranges, surrounded by sandbox trees made of petrified wood and smoking leaves. The rapids here grow the sindrillies! Rare purple flowers that resemble the lilies of the nile, they only grow in extremely hot areas. So you can only really find them underground or by the rocky areas of the river rapids. Most flowers come in the same color range as heat. So in oranges, reds, whites, yellows, and blues. The warmer the colors, the more common they are.

Locals live most commonly in caves, in the mountainy ranges where there's less volcano activity (its more convenient), in cold pockets (where the air there is significantly cooler *in comparison to the surrounding area), in the lava. Under-lava cities are very common here, there are entire cities built at the bottom of the lakes and leading into the underground tunnels. Buildings are made of the surrounding igneous rock and obsidian. Gemstones like opal, olivine, agate, amethyst, etc are found growing here since lava has a hand in their creation. They're a little different compared to mortal gemstones, since instead of water they're made of crystalizing ectoplasm. Although what those differences are, I haven't yet figured out.

Jewelry, tablets, sculpting, and oral storytelling are a popular form of artistry since paper really isn't,,, cohesive with extreme heat. Windows, if there are any, are made of volcanic glass and tend to be stained, with various designs on them that depend on the owner's preferences. Due to the lava rivers outside, it's not uncommon for ghosts to wear loose black garments when traveling around in order to avoid getting their inside clothes dirty. Think desert-wear!

I haven't though much about them being healer-warriors (and I'll admit it completely slipped my mind) but it's pretty common for ghosts to go to the lava hot springs, which are situated on the outskirts of the the island, in order to unwind. At least the ones who can withstand the heat when it's at its weakest. Some ghosts can go in deeper, but its really only the fire-core ghosts (like Danny and Vlad) that can actually handle the full heat of the molten springs without melting.

Rip to blob ghosts, Danny watched one melt like an ice cube in his hand once.

The residents of the Molten Springs are fire-core ghosts and other various heat-related mythological beasts. Cyclops, dragons, phoenixes, salamanders, etc etc. If they've got a heat or fire motif, they're there. The Yeti equivalents would have to be the Dragons, because that's who Sunburn is!

Sunburn is the Frostbite equivalent, and he's a massive dragon the size of a mountain, with black obsidian scales. Although he can shrink himself down to size. Danny's only two feet shorter than his eye, which is a lovely amethyst color, and it matches the color of his feathery mane! His mane itself is made of peacock feathers, with purple being the main color and the eyes being a startling electric blue. His fire opal horns are six-pointers, and from a distance blends in with the streams of lava running down the mountains. Despite his vibrant plumage and the jewelry he decorates himself with, he blends in with the surrounding igneous rock worryingly well.

He lives in a massive cave at a collapsed caldera volcano, Danny stumbled across him once on his first journey into the Molten Springs (<- has never watched the far frozen ep so i don't know what happened in it) and woke hm up on accident. Scared the shit out of Danny because he turned around and there was this giant purple eye staring at him.

but it's okay! Sunburn's like. a hippie. so he's really chill. Super chill actually. He's had thousands of years to just chill out. Which is a really good contrast for Danny who is the exact opposite of chill and is constantly on the verge of eruption himself. He helps Danny learn some emotional regulation and how to thermal regulate better.

Sunburn has, on numerous occasions, rumbled out a lazy "nap time" when he thinks Danny's getting too worked up, and then turned and pinned Danny beneath his muzzle. It doesn't hurt him, but it's like a big weighted blanket and it's also like a cat sleeping on you, so even if Dany could move, he wouldn't. He eventually falls asleep 9/10.

Sunburn will also just toss him into the lake outside the cave just. Whenever. What's gonna happen? Danny gets burned? Don't make him laugh. It usually gets Danny out of whatever mental spiral he's in and is just one of the few methods that makes him relax.

As for the Far Frozen! They're on the opposite ends of the ghost zone from each other and are on pretty neutral terms. Residents don't meet often due to their drastically opposite climates, but they can meet somewhere outside of the Molten Springs or Far Frozen, or, with the right equipment, meet in their respective islands. Sunburn and Frostbite are good friends, because I think it's funny if Sunburn has nicknamed Frostbite "Freezerburn".

Also Sunburn doesn't dislike just anyone, but he fucking hates Vlad.