#fighting my demons to keep the gore in them vague......
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fungus-no69 · 12 days ago
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Dr Apollo (Medical Malpractice 2)
You are inside the hospital foyer. You are injured! ++stress
The door swings open, to reveal a person with pink hair. This must be the doctor you were told about. They look at you boredly and click their tongue when they see your wound. They lead you into the room.
"Hello, I'm Doctor Apollo." They say, pulling on some gloves and ushering you to lay down on the bed in the corner. "This should be a quick procedure since your cut isn't too bad." They lean over you, working so fast you can't properly register their movements. +pain
Eventually they stop, you now wear a bandage. They poke around the wound. ++pain
"Does this hurt?"
Yes <<
No +++pain
"Good." They nod. "If that cut becomes infected or you get hurt again, please visit Doctor Harper or myself, I'll be here on days when Harper isn't here. I have a feeling you know when those are."
They sit back on their chair, rolling to the desk and typing on their computer. Looks like you're dismissed.
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Uses they/them pronouns
Pretty short, maybe around 5'2
They have an obsession with Harper, somewhat similar to Kylar in that regard
Also fixated on the limits of the human body i.e. parasites, organs and procedures of questionable morality.
There are ways to initiate encounters with them, they're just really weird. And cagey. And kind of unsexy.
Special Stat: Hatred
Works like jealousy, when the player indulges Harper while Apollo's around, their hatred will increase- there is also a chance that it will increase regardless of if they are there (seeing the evidence)
They are able to hide their disdain for the player up until a point (>75% hatred)
Before this, they treat the pc with neutrality and seem pretty professional apart from stray comments about 'the flexibility of the player's canals'.
However, at this amount of hatred an event will happen where the pc will either pass out, be knocked out or kidnapped. They will wake up in a brightly lit room that they recognise as at the hospital though they're unsure of the exact location (+stress). Apollo will be looming over them with a smile that doesn't quite reach their eyes. They will proceed to poke at cuts and bruises that weren't there before resulting in +++pain and ++stress, they'll be muttering under their breath. Eventually they speak up and ask how the player feels, not waiting for a response before they dig their nails into an open wound (++++pain ++stress) this will go on until the pc is at max pain to which they will respond with "good" as usual. They don't explain themself very well, simply telling the player that they're 'worried' for them and Harper and that the player should maybe avoid the other doctor for a while. Responding requires extremely high willpower and is not guaranteed, succeeding will allow the player to either nod or refuse.
Nodding will lower Apollo's hatred: "Thank you, I knew you were a reasonable person." Then they will release you without further fuss, telling the pc to 'keep an eye on their injuries'. These cuts and such will last around 3 days and increase stress occasionally, unlocking some interactions with love interests who react differently depending on their stats.
Refusing will anger Apollo, increasing their hatred by a substantial amount. Apollo will press a needle to the player's neck, saying that the player is lucky they haven't killed them yet (+++stress). There will be a noise outside the door an Apollo will perk up a bit. Their face will be unreadable as they turn back to the player, stabbing the needle into the pc's arm and injecting some kind of sedative.
Whether the player refuses or is unable to respond, they will wake up in the industrial alley inside of a dumpster with a strange wriggling in their stomach/without any clothes on.
This event changes based off of how many times it has occurred and will eventually stop appearing, there will be other consequences.
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Meeting Apollo will make different procedures in the hospital available i.e. abortions, decreasing/increasing tf points (so long as the player has visited them before with the full transformation and allowed them to take a sample of their blood or something) and can make the player immediately sober up along with other things I haven't thought of yet.
Their post-appointment notes differ with how many parasites the player has given birth to. The player can view these through a mid skullduggery check
0: "Absolutely not. No flexibility."
1-5: "Could possibly be a vessel in the future, not suitable at this time."
6-10: "A very viable choice, however the subject could be injured, not ideal. Wait for further changes."
11+: They may proposition you for a 'test' of sorts, they remain purposely vague but may cave under an english check, in which case they tell the player that they have been looking for a suitable 'incubator' for a parasite they've been observing. This is completely optional and there will be no impact if the player declines. If the player agrees, their hatred will decrease and they will seem almost excited. The player will be put under anaesthesia and awaken to an almost bloated feeling that Apollo assures them will pass, the player will be asked to return to the hospital at least monthly for check ups.
There is an odd chance that while in the hospital, the player will see a room splattered in red and white, a pink flash will be visible before the door is closed. (+stress)
Just a very stress inducing person.
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mysicklove-main · 2 years ago
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Parings: Yandere! Rengoku x Fem! Reader
Word Count: 14.3k (Part 1/3)
Warnings: This chpt is pretty chill so, overprotectiveness, slight possessiveness, vague meanings, rengoku personality does 180s, character injury, minor character death, gore (demon eating human and reader gets impaled)
Summary: Meeting the one you have idolized for years is a once in a lifetime experience. So, you live it up, baking him all the treats in the world. When you finally befriend him, you believe that everything is going great. But he keeps saying strange things, and is acting like he isn't leaving by the end of the week...
𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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Growing up, you have always idolized demon slayers. Your father was one, and he told you and your brother everything about them from a young age. Sure, it may have scared the daylights out of you, but at least you were forever prepared for the real world. 
He had planned to teach both of you the ways of a slayer, but he passed early into your childhood. With your mom passing at birth, it was only you and your older brother. The two of you made do with the loss.
Instead of following in your father’s footsteps, the two of you lived a simple life. The both of you live in a small cottage, just on the outskirts of a village. You woke up early every morning to sell fresh baked goods to the villagers, while your brother traveled west, aiding the sickly, and making money through donations. He always came back after one week of being gone.
When the two of you are together, you always are reminiscing over the stories your father once told. Most of the time referring back to how he met the Hashiras.
By god, you idolized them. You have always dreamed of meeting them like your father did. He described them as the most skilled people on the planet. The protectors of the human world. His words couldn’t help but draw you in. You wanted to know everything about them. How they trained, how they spoke, how they lived. 
You daydream all the time about meeting any of them. 
Specifically, the son of the man who once saved your father from death. Who granted him an extra three years with you. You have fond memories of how your father used to mention how strong the boy was from such a young age. The boy who was built to protect.
You dreamed of meeting him. You were a plain girl who lived a normal life, so you couldn’t even fathom the thought of being your age and fighting off demons. The thought of him drew you in and you vowed to someday find him.
You knew what he looked like. Your father went into detail about the child. The boy who looks like the flame. Fiery hair and eyes.
You shiver in glee like you always do when you think of your idol. He has to be your age by now, maybe a little older. You wonder what he is like, of course, he has to be unbelievably strong, but was he arrogant because of it? Or was he kind? You didn't care, you just want to see him. Talk to him. Just one time. That's all you needed.
“Hey, Y/N!” Your brother calls as you begin your journey toward the village. You turn, to see him in front of the house, his travel backpack on, and waving at you.
You frown. “You're not leaving right?” You respond, and the waving arm hesitates. He had just got home yesterday, he usually stays for a week before leaving.
“I have to! I just got word that someone needs my help.”
You sigh but nod. He always was so kind. “You'll come back? In a week?”
He grins at you, that bright smile he inherited from your father. You wish yours was as bright as his. That's part of the reason he was loved by all. “Always. I'll be back in a week’s time. Be good without me!”
You throw up a hand, waving him goodbye. “I will! Be safe!” You call and he smiles in return, before turning his back on you and beginning his journey.
You sigh when he disappears, sensing something amiss, but brush it off. Your worries always got the best of you, and you needed to focus. 
Alas, you begin to walk forward and toward the village.
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You are greeted by your regulars, and many of the elderly come up to you to complain about how big you are getting. You always have to remind them that you are not a child anymore, but nevertheless, they never seem to get it. 
The villagers have always been kind to you, and you were forever grateful. With the lack of parents, it was nice to have someone to turn to for affection.
Currently, you were walking around and greeting the villagers, with your hands completely full of fresh goods. A handful of people approached you and paid their dues, with a warm smile. The business was going well, and you were having a nice time chatting with the villagers. 
You see a dark hooded figure in the distance, walking quickly toward you. Politely, you make your way to the other side of the road to avoid the stranger. You slightly nod to yourself and continue forward.
Suddenly, at a couple steps away they switch back into your lane and run completely into you. Their shoulder knocks into yours and you wince. Black gloved hands move quickly and you can see them snatch the money in your pocket. You can’t seem to do anything, because the force of his shoulder has sent you falling backward.
You land on your backside with a groan and watch all of your baked goods tumble across the pavement. Immediately you look up toward the stranger, but he was gone. So, you turn back toward the ground and try to scoop up any of the pastries you can. 
They are all ruined. You try not to let it get to you, but it hits you hard. You sit on your knees on the hard pavement and clench your fists, trying not to cry. All that time you spent baking and selling was for nothing. Just for some thief to steal your hard work from you. 
A shadow stands in front of you, but you ignore it, too focused on yourself to deal with another kind villager. You don’t want to lash out at them. 
A booming male voice says, “Are you alright?” 
You jump at the sheer power of the stranger’s call but continue to keep your head down. Tears were now pooling in your eyes and you quickly wipe them away. “I'm okay. It's fine, you can go now,” You mumble, but the shadow doesn't move.
“How could I leave a maiden in need?” He continues, still abnormally loud. You shake your head and sigh, before grabbing the remaining pastries and putting them back in their holder. When you begin to stand up, you feel a strong arm, grab onto yours and help ease your way up.
You finally look up to take in the man’s appearance and your eyes widen. Eyes and hair of a flame. A fire kimono. A sword connected to his side. 
This was him. The man you have wanted to meet your entire life. It had to be.
Your mouth hangs open as your mind blanks. He frowns slightly. “Are you alright, ma’am?”
“Its…It’s you,” You say breathlessly, not caring at the moment how strange you may sound.
He frowns even more at your vague statement. “Oh! Do you know me?” His voice causes some heads to turn, but he seems to ignore it, almost used to the stares.
You blink at him. You are at a loss for words. He was here. You didn’t actually think this would happen. It was supposed to be just a dream.   
A couple of seconds go by. 
He instead changes the subject at your silence. “Well! I see that you dropped these.” He points to the now dirty danishes. “How upsetting! I wanted to buy some. Will you make more?”
This seems to snap you back into reality and you begin to ramble nervously. “Oh…Yeah. A thief knocked me over and took my money. Just my luck, huh? But i'll be back tomorrow with fresh ones.” You're blushing. You didn’t say or do anything embarrassing, but the fact that you are finally in his presence is making you squirm.
He smiles and you tear your eyes away from him, a wobbly smile pulling at your face. “Great! I'll buy the whole bunch in advance!” He hands you a huge stack of money and you gape at him. He just handed you two days worth of cash.
“Sir, this is way too much!” You splutter, beginning to hand him back the money. He just laughs in return. His huge body tilts back with the booming noise. 
“Nonsense! It's to compensate for what the thief did to you.” 
“Are you sure sir? You don't have to do that.”
“I want to. As long as you promise to make more of those danishes!”
His kindness makes you beam and the words slip out of you before you could stop them. “You are so generous, sir. As expected of such a high-rank demon slayer!” 
You knew you sounded like a total fangirl, clutching your fists with sparkles in your eyes, but you didn’t care. The fact that you weren’t freaking out right now was impressive. 
He cocks his head to the side, the soft smile never falling. “You know who I am?”
“Of course, I know who you are! The flame harisha. One of the strongest demon slayers out there. I am a huge fan, sir!” You grin up at him, setting the ruined danishes aside, and he lets out another powerful laugh.
He didn't seem as shocked that you knew about demons as you thought he was going to be. Or maybe he was just hiding it pretty well. “I didn't know I had fans!”
You hum with a frantic nod. “If everyone knew what you did for us, you would have millions of fans!”
He places a hand on your shoulder and you buzz with happiness. “You are too kind, ma’am. But please don't give me so much praise! I am only doing my job.” 
You shake your head, “You’re being way too humble! You have no idea how great you are.” You pause, coming back to reality. You don't want to annoy the slayer with your useless rambling, he was a busy man.
You sigh and instead, bow. “Thank you for everything. I won’t take up your time.” Your voice is quieter and more controlled but still expresses your immense gratitude.
You grab your stuff and head home with a gleeful look in your eyes before he could even say anything. 
A second goes by and you begin to daydream about the types of danishes you are going to make for him. Suddenly, you feel a presence, so you turn to your side to see him walking beside you, a small content smile on his face. You almost jump, his movements were so silent, how did he catch up with you so fast? 
When he notices you take in his appearance he turns to you and grins. “You’ll be back tomorrow, right? I must dine on some of your baked goods!”
You match his intensity with a wide smile. “Of course. I wouldn’t lie to you, sir!”
“Please, call me Rengoku.”
“Of course, Mr. Rengoku!” You are buzzing again. Two conversations you have had with him and now you know his name. You couldn’t wait to tell your brother all about this.
“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow…” He pauses, turning toward you, hinting for you to continue.
“Y/N.”
“Tomorrow then, Miss Y/N. Stay safe!” And just like he appeared, he disappeared in a matter of seconds, while you are stuck red in the face from your idol saying your very own name. 
You could die happy.
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You woke up extra early the next morning. The goods had to be absolutely perfect. You were determined for him to like them. You even used some frosting to draw little orange flames on them. You hoped he didn’t think they were lame. It’s definitely a very good possibility he did.
When the sun rose, you grabbed your iteams and quickly headed down the hill. The quicker you got there, the better. You didn’t want them to get cold.
The town was extra busy that day. More people greeted you on the streets and you had to apologize to many that you weren’t selling today. After all, he bought every single one.
Your head hung high and you were practically skipping around the town, beaming at anyone and everyone. 
You don’t seem to notice the small curb in front of you. You run into it, and screech when you begin to fall forward, not knowing what to do. You could drop your danishes and save yourself from pain, or you could move the basket up and brace yourself for a harsh fall straight to the face.
You weren’t about to let Rengoku’s desserts get ruined. 
Just as you were about to hit the floor you stop. You feel a hand on your shoulder, as you stare face to face with the ground. You clutch the pastries. “Miss Y/N, its a pleasure seeing you here!” The familiar voice calls and you turn red out of sheer embarrassment at the situation you are in.
He pulls you back with just one hand and you have to physically restrain yourself from fangirling. He held your entire weight with one hand like it was no big deal. 
You quickly turn around, trying to ignore the fuming of your face, and hold out the pastries to him. “Here! I hope you like them!” You exclaim while pulling the lid off to show him the decorated buns. You take in a deep breath and wait.
His eyes seem to sparkle when he takes in the frosting and you take this as a good sign. He smiles wide and grabs one of the goods. Without a second thought, he plops the entire thing into his mouth. 
He chews in silence, and you could almost hear your heartbeat pound as you wait for his thoughts.
With a swallow, his eyes fall back to you, and he says, “Tasty!” 
You beam instantly, matching his wide smile. “You think so?”
“I know so. These are one of the most delicious baked goods I have ever had!” The gleeful buzzing is back, you knew that your baking was good, but to hear it from his mouth was such a gift. 
He puts both hands on both of your shoulders and you freeze at the touch, internally freaking out. “Come with me, Miss Y/N. Let us eat them together!” He exclaims, before snatching the goods from your hands with one hand and pulling you behind him with the other. You don’t have room for protest.
He leads you to the edge of the town and plops himself on a curb behind a small restaurant, and faces the hill you live on. You sit next to him, and he doesn’t seem to care about personal space, because almost instantly he is crowding yours. 
You’re going to have to get used to this, you can’t freak out anymore than this.
He opens the box again and hands you one of the goods, but you pull away. “Those are for you, Mr. Rengoku. I can’t take something you bought!”
But, to your dismay, he grabs your hands, places a baked good into them, and shuts his fingers over yours. “Eat!”
You weren’t going to ignore his demand, so you pick up the bun and begin to nibble on it. He stares, waiting for a reaction. You smile hesitantly, “It’s good!”
“Right!” He exclaims before placing another danish into his mouth, with another loud, “Tasty!”
You begin to laugh at his antics. The way he yells, the way he dragged you away like it was nothing, and simply how enthusiastic he seemed to be. He was a strange man, but you couldnt help but like him even more.
He looks at you as he chews, while you throw your head back in a laugh. “Is there something funny?” He asks, glancing around the area. It was just the two of you.
“You are just so…so human!”
He mimics your smile, even if he is totally lost at your vague statement. “Well, I'd hope so!” He says before taking another huge bite.
Your smile softens as you stare at the food in your hands. “It’s just, I thought you would be different, you know? A Hashira, shouldn't you be super serious or arrogant?”
He swallows his bite and looks out toward the hill. His voice comes out softer, “You idolize me too much Miss Y/N. I am nothing but a man who must protect the weaker people of this world.”
“But do you want to? You aren’t forcing yourself to do this because of your father, right?” He turns to you with slightly wider eyes and blinks. The two of you remain in silence for a couple of seconds.
But then he grins, with the tilt of his head. He places a massive hand on the top of your head and you freeze. “Not to worry, Miss Y/N. I love what I do. I wouldn't change it for the world,” He says, slightly ruffling up your hair. 
Another couple of seconds go by as you think of what to say. But he speaks up before you do. “You knew my father?” The man prompts, turning his attention directly on you. It makes you nervous, his watchful eyes seem to take in your every move.
You press on either way, tearing your eyes away so you can focus. “No, but he saved my father about ten years ago. So, I am forever indebted to the Rengoku family. I cannot thank you enough, Mr. Rengoku. Even if it wasn’t you who saved my father, you and your family have protected so many people. Saved so many. It's incredible, really, you're incredible,” You hum and he continues to stare.
You continue, you have been waiting to tell someone this, specifically him, so you couldn’t stop the rambling. “All of the Hashira are. For years I’ve daydreamed about meeting them. You specifically.” You glance up at him and quickly look back down in embarrassment when you see his small smile. “I've always idolized you all. It’s strange to think, we are the same species, but you are someone who risks their lives daily to kill demons, why I sell pastries to keep food on the table. It’s kinda embarrassing when you think about it…” You trail off, taking another bite of the good to keep yourself distracted.
Seconds go by and you begin to get uncomfortable. You turn toward him to meet his watchful stare. His fiery eyes seem to look through you. “I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I said way too much, please just enjoy the bun, I'll be quiet, I promise!”
He sets the danish down and your eyes follow it with a slight frown. He forcefully grabs your hands and you quickly look up shocked at the sudden touch. “Thank you for the kind words!” He yells and you cringe slightly at the volume. “But like I said yesterday, we are just fulfilling our duty. You are not indebted to anything. And Miss Y/N please don’t think that way! You don’t have to kill demons to be great, you know. Being this good of a baker is way more important than someone like me!”
The way he says it throws you off. It all sounds so genuine like he truly believes that what you are doing is important. He definitely knows how to make someone feel special. “T-Thank you, Mr. Rengoku!”
He smiles wide. “Please, call me Kyojuro! I think we are going to be friends, Y/N!”
You are taken aback. You didn’t think you would ever be friends with someone like him. It makes you grin. “You really think so?”
“Yes! Besides how else am I going personalized fresh goods from a pretty lady?” He says, gently letting go of your hands so he can point to the wobbly icing drawing of a flame located on the center of the bun. 
Your face fumes, both from embarrassment at his compliment and the ridiculous decoration. You wave your hands in front of your face. “It’s nothing! You deserve much more sir—Kyojuro.”
“Nonsense! How could anyone deserve something so magnificent!” He declares, loud and full of pride. 
It made another small laugh slip through your lips. It was endearing to see how passionate he was about the smallest things. He was unreasonably kind to you. 
He grins with a small hum, when he sees you smile, before shoving another bun into his mouth. 
“Tasty!” 
And just like that, you made friends with a Hashira.
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The two of you were quick to get closer to one another. I mean it was simple really, you interviewed him on his entire life story, while he happily explained. You bring him goods every day, and no matter how much you reassure him it’s fine, he always insists on paying you the full amount.
But nevertheless, you have been avoiding the question that hangs in the air. Why are you here?
You don't want to know. There has to be a demon near or else he would never come to this small town. You fear that when you ask that question it’s going to spur his leave. It’s been four days now. He has to be on his way soon.
You've grown attached even in this short period of time. He has to have that effect on others; you wouldnt believe him if he said otherwise. He was the type of person who people couldn’t help but be drawn to. It made you feel possessively good that he was spending time with you rather than the other villagers.
A shoulder bumps into you while you are lost in your daydream. You flinch back and into Kyojuro. He glances down at you and then snaps his gaze back to the man that knocked into you. In less than a heartbeat, the Hashira steps in front of you and grabs onto the jacket of the stranger. You could barely even process what was happening.
“Sir, I’d ask for you to apologize. You’ve disrespected a lady,” His voice is tight, but the Hashira smiles at the man. It makes you gulp.
You realized quickly that Kyojuro is…overprotective. It made sense though, his whole job is to protect people, but these were humans he was protecting you from. And most of the time they weren’t even doing anything amiss. Simple things like, a salesman having a snarky tone at you, a man trying to flirt with you for your service, a small child almost tripping you, or now, someone who accidentally bumped into you.
He never gets truly upset, the smile is still plastered on his face, but the tone is always sharp, dangerous even. His voice was powerful naturally, so to hear it shift was intimidating. 
You grab onto his arm before the man could speak. “It’s fine, Kyojuro. It was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention.” You turn to the man and quickly bow in apologies. 
His gaze sharpens, and you see his eyebrows begin to furrow at your actions. He didn’t seem to like this.
The man remains in his grasp. “Hey, you can let him go now,” You say, moving your hands to his fingers to try to coax them open.
His eyes remain locked on the man who was now struggling in his hold. “Apologize, sir.”
“Kyojuro, I said-”
He cuts you off, his loud voice cutting your train of thought short. “He touched you, so he must make up for it.” He smiles at you, but this time it doesn’t feel the same as it usually does. The malice in his voice is unhidden.
“I’m sorry! Can you just let me go you crazy bastard!” The man complains, grabbing at the Hashira’s wrist to pull himself away. 
In an instant, Rengoku drops him, and the man scampers away, mumbling curses underneath his breath.
You sigh, your gaze following the man that beginning to disappear into the crowd. When you turn back around, Rengoku is staring at you, the familiar small smile on his face. “Was that really necessary?” You whine.
He huffs a small laugh, before placing a hand on your head. Something he seems to do as a sign of affection. “Of course it was! I can't let you be treated that way!”
His usual smile is back and you find comfort in it. In these moments he was always different, but he always snapped back to usual not long after. So, you tend not to dwell on them.
“Whatever you say, Kyojuro,” You hum, before changing the subject. “C’mon, let's head back to my place, I wanna teach you something!”
He pauses, eyes slightly widening. He has never been to your place before. The two of you tended to stay in the village, spending daylight hours with one other. You have never asked him over, and at this time. It was almost evening.
It made him concerned. Do you invite other men over to your place? He knew you idolized him, but if you had met Tengen or Giyuu first, would you have invited them over as well? It made him feel strange to think about it. You were too accepting, you should be more cautious of inviting people over. The two of you only met a couple of days ago.
“You don’t have to go if you don't want to…” You say, your voice unsure at his original silence.
He snaps back to reality, and blinks at you a couple of times, before grinning wide. “I would love to go!” He bellows, causing heads to turn. 
You’re used to it by this point, so you grab his hand and lead him up the mountain.
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He looks massive in your small cottage. It wasn't just his height. It was his overall frame that made him look so out of place. It wasnt built for a Hashira to live in.
You decided not to comment on it, you didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Besides, a demon slayer needs a frame like that. It was rather intimidating.
You lead him into the kitchen, pulling him away from the shrine dedicated to your parents. He didn’t comment on it, instead bowing low and letting himself be dragged. 
You begin to pull out your baking materials, while he stands and watches, occasionally asking if you need any help, to which you deny with a hum.
Finally, once settled you dramatically slam your first on the table, and look up at him with a smile. His eyes follow your fist in a confused, but delighted stare. “I am going to teach you how to bake!” You exclaim, hands thrusting into the air with excitement.
His eyes light up. “Tasty!”
You in turn roll your eyes, the smile still plastered on your face. “That's the goal. I hope that you can make your own goods when…you know.”
His eyes soften, and his voice drops. “I leave?”
“Yeah.”
He walks over to you, and he uses his hand to lightly trace the area near your temple, bending down slightly to meet your gaze. “Don't worry about that for now. We've got time.”
Your mind travels back to that question.
Why are you here? 
You ignore the recurring thought. It never seems to leave you alone. It wasn’t worth thinking about it. You were here with your idol, and that should be enough for you. Just meeting him should have been enough. You found yourself getting greedy.
You nod into the touch, blushing slightly, when he pulls away with a hum. You never got used to how physically affectionate he was.
He seemed to think nothing of it, constantly brushing his hand against your body. You’ve thought it was an accident at first, when his hands lingered on your hips for a second too long, or when his hands seem to twitch when they graze yours. But when he led you through a crowd with a hand on your back, it made you realize how touchy he must be.
You didn’t mind of course. If he was showing any affection toward you, it had to be a blessing. Demon slayers would kill to talk to a Hashira, nevertheless, be friends with one. 
“So where do we begin?” Rengoku prompts, rubbing his hands together as to prepare them for heavy work. 
You laugh, cutting your thoughts off, and begin the lesson.
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It turns out he is horrible at baking. For all of the talents he was gifted with, the kitchen was not one of them. 
He tried, truly he did, his face is covered with flour, and whenever you asked if he needed help, he pretended that he was doing completely fine. It was cute, really.
But, after twenty minutes of struggling to follow your commands, you saw him begin to get frustrated. His brows were pinched as he tried to knead the dough, way too hard than usual. His fingers dug into it, and you heard his noises of annoyance under his breath. 
You walk over to him and stand next to him, before reaching over to put your hands on his. “Gently, Kyojuro. Like this.” You murmur, before guiding the both of your hands to knead the dough, gently this time. 
His hands are much larger than yours, and you struggled to move them, but he went completely lax under your hands. He lets you lead them into the repetitive motion, while you mumble instructions. 
His silence becomes deafening. Rengoku isnt one to stop talking, especially in situations like these. 
You glance up at him, to see that he is staring at you. His eyes are opened wide, his mouth curled up in a small content smile. “What?” You muse, automatically removing your hands from his. His smile drops when they leave.
“That's the first time you touched me.”
“What? No, it’s not, I feel like the two of us are always somehow touching one way or another.”
He barks a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, but I always initiated them. You touched me, Y/N!”
You turn red. “Am I not allowed to?” You say, trying not to let the embarrassment get to you.
“Of course not! Please, feel free to touch me at any time and anywhere!”
“Don’t say it like that!”
“What? I am merely speaking the truth. I enjoy it immensely when you touch me, Y/N!” Your hand covers his mouth before he could get anything else out. He blinks at you, before closing his eyes with a wide smile. Probably grateful you were touching him again.
What he was saying was true. You tried to keep a little bit of space between the two of you. Even if he enjoys physical contact, you didn’t want to catch him on a bad time and have him snap on you. Honestly, you don't want to do something that may make him upset, because the idea you have of him in your mind would be tarnished. You like how you see him now.
“Are you done now?” He nods frantically under your hand. You pull away and he beams at you. It was rare to see him not smiling honestly. 
He turns back to the dough, a determined look on his face. “Alright, I believe I can do this! Gently this time!” 
You nod and stand close to him as he begins to try to knead the dough. 
Too soft. Way too softly. It looked like he was afraid to touch it. You sigh. “Kyojuro, I don't think this is going to work.”
His body snaps over to you, his eyes wide and looking a little panicked. “What’s not going to work?” He splutters. 
It was the first time he didn’t look like a Hashira in your eyes. He looked like a regular man, who also have their fears and worries. But you have no idea what he seems to be worried about. 
You place a hand on his lower arm and tilt your head to the side in a soft grin. His eyes flicker to it, and his body seems to jolt at the touch. He focuses his stare on you. “You baking. I think you should stick to demon-slaying, hmm?”
“But how am I supposed to eat these delicious goods?”
You pause, using your other finger to tap your chin. “You could visit me from time to time and I can make them for you.”
He stares at you, a small frown on his face. He seems to do this a lot, you’ve taken notice too. The staring. It’s like he goes into a whole different world when he looks at you. Sometimes he would speak on what he was thinking about, others he would change the subject.
It seemed that he felt like talking today. Even if the results shocked you so. “Or you could live with me!” He exclaims so loud you swear you saw your porcelain cups shiver.
You blink at him. He smiles in return, and grabs both of your hands, cupping them in his own. “What?”
“I said, you could live with me!”
You shake your head, eyes flickering to your hands in his hold. “No, I know what you said, but what are you talking about? I can’t just pick up and move in with a guy I just met, simply because you like my danishes.”
His smile falters. “It will be more than just you baking for me, I promise Y/N. Besides, we met four days ago and we seem to get along perfectly!  Do you not trust me?”
“Of course I trust you, you are a Hashira after all. The world has to trust you.”  He doesn't seem to like this answer. His smile drops completely now, and his eyebrows slightly furrow. You gulp, not wanting him to be upset at you. “I mean–It's just that I can’t leave my brother alone! I have to stay here and watch the house when he is gone!”
He drops your hands, the smile returning. “Of course! The brother. You are so kind, Y/N, really.” His hand lands back on your head, ruffling the lose strands. His voice seems to be just barely strained, and the grip on your head is a tad bit harsher than usual. Not enough to hurt, but enough to notice the difference.
It’s not that you don’t want to go with him. It would be a dream come true to live with a Hashira. But you weren’t dumb. You knew that underneath the kimono and the blade by his side, he is still a man. A strong one at that. 
The thought made the image of him in your head start to blur once more. You are getting too close to him, and although it was nice to be his friend, when he leaves you don’t want to think of him any differently.
You focus on the task at hand. You fix your hair quickly, while he laughs gently. You beam back at him. “Well, lets finish teaching you how to bake!”
“Right!”
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Tomorrow your task was to pick up necessities from the village next door. Stuff like flour, cloth, string, baking supplies, and maybe, if you made enough this week, a new pair of shoes. You go on these trips once every three weeks. They took about the whole day, as it was about a five-ish mile walk and you needed to visit many different shops.
So, you couldn’t see Rengoku tomorrow. The thought made you a little sad, but the two of you had seen each other for five days in a row. You didn’t want him to get sick of you anyways.
The two of you sat on the bank of the nearest river. Him filling up the containers for you, even when you tried to stop him, reassuring you that you could do it by yourself. He didn’t listen of course.
It’s silent between the two of you, instead listening to the sounds of the river passing by. His leg is touching yours. You don’t know if it’s purposeful or not. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” You hum, trying to start up a conversation.
Silence. Your eyes flicker to him. He stares at the ground, eyes wide, and darting back and forth along the grass, as if trying to process something. His hand grips his kimono. “Where?” He breathes, after a couple more seconds of thick tension.
You try to laugh it off, confused by the mood shift, and his eyes snap toward you. Recently, he has gotten more…serious. It made you even more afraid that he was beginning to not like you. “Where?” He questions again, his voice louder this time.
“To the next village over. Need some supplies. It will only take a day,” You reason, and you swear you could see his body begin to relax. 
And suddenly, as if nothing happened, he turns to you with a grin on his face. “Of course! We shall go together!” 
You blink at him, the thoughts of him getting sick of you resurfacing. Besides, he had a mission to do, you know he did, whether he told you or not. “I appreciate that, Kyojuro, but I kinda wanna do this alone.”
His grin falls in a heartbeat, and his eyes become wide again. Similar to how he looked yesterday. Panicked. “Are you sick of me?”
“What? No! Of course not. How could I ever get sick of you?”
He huffs, turning toward you. “Then we go together!”  
“But,” You continue, causing his smile to drop. “I think it’s a good idea for us to spend some time apart. We’ve only just recently met, and we have spent every day together.”
“That’s true! But we are enjoying it, are we not?”
“Well yeah, but we may not…soon.”
“Why?” He begins to move closer to you. You can almost feel his breath on your skin. The proximity makes you shiver.
“Because…Because I don’t know! That’s just how it works.”
“I will always enjoy spending time with you, Y/N. I hope the same for you.” He says that now, but you don’t believe him truly. It’s human nature for one to need alone time. It was strange that someone like him who works alone most of the time doesn’t understand it.
Your head is scrambling for something else to say, and without meaning to you tell him what you have been wanting to know for so long. “Kyojuro, what are you even doing here?”
He falters at this and your own eyes widen. You didn’t mean for it to come out like that. “I’m sorry–I meant, It’s just…are you on a mission out here?”
He smiles at you, his gaze soft, like you say anything, and still, he wouldn’t be mad at you. “Yes. There is a group of demons near the woods. I’m here to end them!” 
His story sounds plausible, but you weren’t stupid, he was a Hashira. This mission should have ended after at most two days. And not only that, you haven’t heard of any people going missing. Was he saving them and taking his time to kill the demons? 
Rengoku wouldn’t do that. The flame Hashira would never leave demons walking on this world willingly. He must be planning a strategy to kill them. He must be. 
But you’ve heard stories of how his father took down hundreds with little to no trouble. Was Rengoku weaker than you thought?
You couldn’t stand the thought of the glorified picture in your head being damaged.
So, you nod. “Well, you should probably stay here to protect the villagers in case something goes amiss?”
“Don’t you worry, my Y/N! Demons don’t come out in the day! The villagers will be completely fine with my absence. Please let me come along! I will not be a nuisance!”
He seems adamant about him coming, and you didn’t want to be a bother. So, with one last sigh, you nod and give in. Besides, you wouldn’t ever be sick of him, and you couldn’t help but cling to the idea that maybe he wouldn’t be either.
The Hashira accompanied you on your journey the next day, grinning the entire time while carrying your bags.
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Two days have passed by. You’ve been with him for six days in a row now, and honestly, you’ve never been better. You were wrong about the idea of getting sick of him. Nothing about him steered you away.
In fact, you believe that you have started to have a crush on the Hashira. 
Not that you would ever admit it. It was a ridiculous idea, but you couldn’t help but fall for him. It wasn’t even him being a Hashira that drew you in now, it was his personality. Sure, he would always make you feel safe and protected from harm, but it was the way he smiled at you that made your heart flutter. The way he was always so polite, and treated you with the utmost respect.
You haven’t experienced many people like him, so like a moth to the flame, you began to fantasize about what it would be like to be with him. 
But, it was naive of you. He was bound to leave soon. A group of demons has ought to be killed soon. If not, his master would surely call upon him soon.
You were growing too attached to him. It was weird to think about how you would have to start doing everything alone again. How silent everything is going to be again. 
If you went with him, what would life be like for you?
You throw the thought out. You couldn’t leave your brother alone, he’s all you had left. The two of you needed each other to survive.
“I feel jealous of whoever you are thinking about, Y/N,” Rengoku calls from behind his shoulder, as he helps you put away some dishes. He turns to you with a smile on his face.
You laugh lightly, beginning to get used to his teasing. “Aw, too bad you’ll never know.” 
He sets the dish down and begins walking over to you, with a small smirk and raised eyebrow. You don’t move. He approaches you, much too closely as usual, and you try to refrain from blushing. “What?”
“And if I make you tell me?” He questions, eyes staring deeply into yours.
“Hmmm, how?”
His smile widens at your tone. “I have some ideas!”
You laugh at this and jab a finger into his chest. “You, my Hashira, wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
He blinks at you. “You know just what to say to make a man blush!” He exclaims, the familiar loudness returning. It was true, his face seemed to have a twinge of pink.
It took you a second to understand. You didn’t mean it like that. The “my Hashira” was only supposed to tease him in turn. It made you fume from embarrassment. You begin to scramble to explain yourself, but he places his large hand on your head again.
His voice goes softer. “But my flame, that isn’t true. Please don’t doubt me. I wouldn’t hesitate to end someone if anyone hurts you. It’s my job to protect you.”
The seriousness in his voice makes you uneasy. “A demon right? Not a human?” You question, sounding way more nervous than you should be. The way he said it made you really think about how strong he truly is. Without a second thought, he could kill you or anyone if he wanted to. 
This thought confused you. Rengoku would never hurt you, nor any human, why does the thought seem to leave a chill down your spine? How are you having these thoughts, when not even a minute ago you were thinking about potentially leaving with him?
He stares at you, the smile not leaving his face. “Exactly,” He says, and then removes his hand from your head, to turn back to the dishes. He was always booming with confidence, why did he sound so doubtful?
Why are you questioning a Hashira’s morals?
You have to get your mind off the subject. It was making things complicated and you were allowing paranoia to get the best of you.
You creep up next to him, grabbing the clay cup from his hands, and away. “Kyojuro, do you remember the time I showed you how to bake?”  
He turns to you with a wide smile, eyes lighting up. “Of course! They were delicious!” Well, yours were. His didn’t turn out as well. You gave up on teaching him how to bake correctly, and he didn’t seem to mind at all.
“Well, you must pay a price for my knowledge,” You hum, turning your back towards him to hide your smile.
“Not to worry, I will pay for all the ingredients!”
You roll your eyes at the offering. “A different price. I did you a service, now you have to do me one.”
Footsteps approach you rapidly, and suddenly his chest is against your back. You jump at the feeling and crane your head to look up at him. 
Two bright eyes stare down at you, blinking owlishly. His hands fall to your shoulder, and his smile is different this time. It seems more like a smirk, rather than a grin. But still, you could tell that the man was practically gleaming. “What type of service, Y/N?”
His low voice startles you, and you flush at the noise. As on instinct you jump away from his hold and turn toward him. “Not that type of service!” You scramble out, trying and failing to keep your cool.
He laughs at this, and you clench your fists in embarrassment. “I apologize, I was teasing you, Y/N!” When you don’t respond, he continues, tone lighter than before. “I am at your beck and call, what do you need from me?”
“I would like for you to teach me some basic self-defense mechanisms.”
His eyes sharpen in an instant, the laugh in his voice gone. “Why? I will protect you.”
You frown at him, not expecting this reaction. “When you leave, Kyo.”
“You don’t need to protect yourself, I said this earlier. I will not let anything touch you. It’s my duty.”
“When you leave,” You repeat when he doesn’t get the memo. He’s acting like he could protect you even when is gone for his next mission.
His eyebrows furrow and his voice comes out flat. “Do you want me to leave?”
It feels like an accusation.
“What? No, but its inevitable.”
He grabs onto your hands and holds them tightly. It feels more than a regular friendship hold, it seemed desperate, but you were too engrossed in the situation to even think about that. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”
You try to pull away, but he holds them in place. Your voice goes softer, almost as if you were soothing a small child. “I can’t go with you, Kyojuro and you know that. My brother needs me.”
His smile drops in an instant and his face turns cold. “Fine. I’ll teach you. Let’s go outside.” The swordsman says cooly, dropping your hands and beginning to walk toward the door of your house. 
Regret fills your veins. You have never seen him upset at you, and you have no understanding of what you did was wrong. He should know that the two of you living together was strange. Unless he was asking for marriage? But that doesn’t seem right, he hasn’t made any romantic moves on you and he would need your brother’s blessing to even be considered.
Or was it asking him to train you that made him upset? But that also didn’t make any sense. Wouldnt he want you to be more protected? Learning basic self-defense is something that everyone should know, and could possibly save your life. 
He was so confusing. In one second he’s smiling at you with stars in his eyes, and in the next, he seems to be a completely different person. 
Who was he, really?
You scramble toward the door.
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He stands in front of you, back facing you. His figure stands tall, and his hair gently falls on the top of his shoulder. Even from far away, he oozes with power.
You tip-toe your way over to him, gulping when his eyes flash to you the second your feet land on the pathway. You smile awkwardly at him, and he in return nods his head with a huff. He turns around to face you. The two of you stand in front of one another in silence. 
You begin to apologize, the strange mood was not something you intended, but he cuts you off. “To begin, take out the knife in your pocket.”
You flinch, staring at him in shock. You never told him about the knife you store in case of emergencies. It’s hidden beneath enough fabric that nobody could feel it on you even if they patted you down.
He watches you begin to scramble for an explanation and laughs. The powerful noise throws his head back, with the return of the smile. Another strange shift in his personality. But you don’t mind it at the moment. The cold shoulder he gave you worried you. The laugh makes you feel more at ease immediately, almost forgetting completely about the knife. 
“I saw a glimpse of it when you reached for the top shelf!”
A simple explanation. Obviously, it had to be, you were being dramatic, Rengoku would never do anything weird. So, you just nod at him and reach into the cloth to pull out the steel blade. 
It was nothing fancy, but your father gifted it to you when you were younger, so you treasured it deeply.
“Great job, Y/N! Now attack me,” He beams, stepping a couple of feet away to give you running room.
You blink at him, trying to ignore the borderline embarrassing encouragement. He said it like you actually did something great. “What?”
“You heard me! Attack me! Pretend I am the thief from a couple of days back!” You do what he says without much hesitation. You asked to be trained, and he knows exactly how to do it. Besides, he was a trained swordsman it’s not like you were going to actually land a blow on him.
You charge at him and swing the knife up toward his shoulder. As expected, he dodged immediately. He now stands behind you. “Again!”
You shift your feet toward him, clenching your teeth as you take another strike, this time aiming for his neck. Like before, he seems to disappear. An arm grabs onto your wrist. He quickly moves your hand positioning on the blade, huffing when satisfied. “That was great Y/N!” 
You nod your head, ready for some pointers or any sort of criticism. But Rengoku just stands a couple feet away, and waits for another attack. You grip the knife, and try a different strategy, instead aiming for his feet. It’s useless, he jumps away. “Creative!”
You huff from the exertion and glare at him. Frustrated at the lack of advice, you speak up. “You are supposed to be teaching me.”
He flashes you a grin. “I am!”
“No, you’re not. Your toying with me. How am I supposed to get any better?”
“I actually think you are great at self-defense! And with me around you will never be in danger. I think its time to head inside for the night!”
When he turns to walk away, you jump in front of him, clutching the base of the knife. “Kyo, this is training for when you are gone.”
His eyes flicker to the blade, and for a moment, his voice is flat. “If you want to continue, keep swinging at me.” You obey his command and try to slam your arm into his shoulder. He continues, voice now expressing more of his emotions, “Why do you keep bringing that up? We will deal with that later!”
You scan the area for where he landed after the dodge. “Your mission is bound to end soon. I know how these things work, my father told me about it. You will leave and it will be soon.”
With a swipe to his collarbone, he jumps back behind you, and you feel his hand caress your neck. You shiver at the soft touch of his calloused fingers. His breath is right next to your ear. “Are you forcing me away?”
You clench your teeth at this and try to turn to him, but he has already moved. “Why do you keep saying these things?”
“Because it sounds like you want me to leave. Is that it, Y/N? You’re sick of me already?”
Another swing, you're so worked up that you don’t even care where to aim at.
“No! My god Kyojuro, you are acting so strange!” In an instant, you feel the blade come in contact with flesh and you freeze. Your heartbeat picks up, eyes wide, as you stare at the Hashira.
Blood drips from his hand and feel yourself pale. Your pulse picks up when the Hashira eyes for the first time during this training leave yours. He hisses out in pain and you watch his eyes widen at the wound. 
“Oh. Ow.”
You immediately rush over to him to make sure he was alright. You grip his hand, mind trying to grasp anything your brother has taught you. You half drag him to your cottage, dropping the knife midway. He follows behind you silently, holding his hand up to try to slow the bleeding.
You push him into the nearest chair, and scramble toward the first aid kit your brother left. 
When you return, he’s staring at you silently, like he is waiting for some sort of reaction. You pay no mind to it, trying to stay focused on the task at hand. 
You kneel down in front of him and he jumps, grabbing onto the chair with the other hand. You glance at him with a raised eyebrow, before grabbing his hand and beginning to clean the wound. “I'm sorry. I should have been paying attention. I didn't mean to.”
“Hmm. It really hurts.” His tone comes out whinier than you have ever heard before and you begin to really panic. He was a demon slayer, he must get hurt all the time, and if this was hurting him, then it must have been a sensitive spot.
When you pour alcohol on the injury, he hisses and you place a hand on his leg to try to comfort him. You feel his gaze on you, as you hold back tears, the guilt tearing ruthlessly at you.  “I’m sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?”
A smile begins to resurface and you feel better almost instantly. “No more lessons?!” he says, placing the other hand on your head again. 
Why was he so insistent on you not being able to protect yourself? Wouldnt he feel better knowing that you can be safe on your own? 
Maybe he has some sort of traumatic past for self-defense that you don’t know about? You don’t know much about him, so that does sound like a reasonable answer. 
 “Of course! I promise I won't ask again.” 
He beams down at you and your heart begins to pound, like it has been the past couple of days. “Great!”
You nod at him, and his eyes flicker to the hand still placed on his leg. You immediately pull away from him, embarrassed, but he grabs it before you can fully remove it. “One more request.”
You try your best not to blush, as he places the hand back on his leg, and begins to rub his thumb over the back of it. His voice softens, and his stare is unwavering. “You have to dote on me. I’m injured, so you can't leave my side until I have healed.”
You blink slowly, but nod your head automatically. It was his dominant hand that was injured, so he may struggle with basic tasks. Plus, you didn't mind not leaving his side. It’s not like the two of you have not been glued to one another since you met. It wouldnt be that big of a change. “Of course! I'll take care of everything. You don’t have to lift a finger. I’m sorry again, Kyojuro.”
He smiles, with a tilt of the head and picks up your hand, giving it a gentle, but affectionate squeeze. “Nonsense! But Y/N, I need you to promise not to leave my side. Do you understand?”
The intensity in his words makes you hesitate. “Until you are healed?”
His words become more frantic, and the grip on your hand tightens. He refuses to look away from you, the bright eyes seeming to peer into you. “Yes. Can you promise me?”
You had no idea why he was so insistent about this right now, but you give in immediately under his stare. “I promise I won't leave your side.”
He stands up, pulling you up effortlessly with him.“Good! Now, don't you think its time for bed!”
You pause for a second, completely forgetting about the fact that he was spending the night. At night he was off slaying demons, or so you assumed, so you never really saw him past sundown. You glance at the hand and sigh, he must have to stop because of you. You ignore the ache in your heart. You already apologized, it was the best you could do.
“Sure. You can sleep on my brother’s cot. He isn’t here.”
He uses your hand to pull your forward, so you had to look directly up at him. You are used to the forwardness, so when you collide with his chest, you don't even question it. “You just promised,” He says with a cocked head.
“But you won’t need any help when you're sleeping!”
He throws his head back in a laugh. “You never know! Besides, I think–” He hisses out and his eyes fall back to the injury. Your own eyes widen and quickly cup the injured hand, worry plastered on your face.
You are quick to reply, not wanting to make it harder for him. “Okay. I'll bring the cot into my room!” You scramble out, before heading into your brother's room and beginning to drag it over. 
He starts to walk toward you, as to help you, but he stops midway. He glances at his hand, and then sighs gently, fidgeting as he watches you move the cot by yourself.
Once finished you turn to him with a small smile. “I am going to get ready for bed. I can lend you my brother’s sleep attire?” 
“It’s okay! I have clothes under my kimono that I wear to bed.” He says, already peeling himself from the top layer of clothing. You slam the door shut immediately, and you hear the booming laugh from behind the door.
As you head back to wash your face, your mind travels back to the incident. No matter how you think about it, it was strange. He dogged every single one of your attacks without even a hint of a challenge. It was like he wasnt even taking you seriously.
So how did you land a blow? You were just a regular girl and he was a trained Hashira, ready to defend himself at any moment.
Was this on purpose?
But Rengoku wouldn’t do anything sly. He was always kind to you, and a Hashira. Hashira’s don’t trick people, they protect them from people who scheme.
He must have been distracted from the whole self-defense thing. You should really stop doubting his morals.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see a slightly burnt piece of paper on the floor. About the size of a letter. 
Immediately, you wander over to it, confused because you haven't received a letter in a while. Plus, you would have read it before and why was it opened?
When you bend down to pick it up, a hand lands on your shoulder. You jump back in shock, to see a shadowed figure.
You know it’s Rengoku, even in the darkness, his figure is very much defined. But the presence still makes you unnerved. Maybe it’s the fact that you can’t see his smiling face in the darkness. “Kyo?”
His voice is flat. “C’mon, Y/N. Let's go to sleep.”
Your eyes flicker toward the paper on the floor. “Sure, one second I just need to–”
“In the morning. Please? I can’t go to sleep if you aren't there.” You feel the brush of the bandages on the back of your neck. It makes you shiver, and remember his injury. You clench your fist for a second, but sigh and turn around. 
He was right, it will be there tomorrow, and besides it would be hard to read at this time anyways. “Right.”
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As the two of you lay next to one another, his non-wounded hand brushing over your face, you make small talk. The two of you whisper in the dark and laugh over nothing important.
He tells you stories of the demons he slayed, and you unconsciously lean even closer to hear them. He is powerful, and kind, and smart, its overwhelming that someone like him is next to you.
You see a hint of a smile in the darkness. “What are you thinking about?” 
“You are so cool Kyojuro.”
His body rumbles with a laugh, quieter than usual since its late and the house is silent. “You praise me too much.”
He leans closer, and the two of you are only a couple of inches apart now. “It’s true. Do you know what I give to be like someone like you?”
The face petting stops for a moment. “I don’t like that idea. It’s too dangerous out there for you. I like the thought of coming home to you, with fresh goods in your hands. Safe and away from any threats”
Your face heats up at the words. He makes it sound so romantic, and to be honest, you don’t mind the idea. But your brother should be home any day now. “I can’t live with you. You know this.”
He hums at you. “What if I told you I have fallen for you?” He murmurs, his voice low and soft. His calloused fingers return to tracing your face.
Your heartbeat picks up, and he must have noticed, because he chuckles lightly. “You like me?” You say, eyes wide, wishing desperately to see his face better in this moment.
“Is that outlandish?”
You look away, instead focusing on the shadows of your fingers. “Well…I don’t know. I’m just surprised.”
“I thought my intentions were clear. Please forgive me, if I confused you.”
It made sense that he was pursuing you. All the stares and the adoring touches. You just didn’t want to think of the possibility of someone as amazing as him liking you. Didn’t want to think of the fact the two of you won’t work out. “No, you didn't, it's fine. I actually like you too…But you are leaving.”
“Come with me. Live with me. I will treat you well. We can be happy together.”
At this point, the two of you were going in circles. You have had this conversation multiple times, and still, he doesn’t seem adamant about giving up. “I won’t leave my brother alone.”
He rolls himself on top of you, most likely annoyed that you weren’t looking at him anymore. He rests his body on his forearm, and his hair brushes your face. His voice is in a hoarse whisper. “You are too kind, Y/N. Think about yourself for once.”
You try your best to ignore the position. His body seems to engulf your own, and it makes you feel unreasonably small, but you’re unwilling to back down. “You know I can't do that. You know what it is like to have a sibling.”
His eyes become wider, and more desperate looking. You can’t meet his stare. “What if he was gone? You would come with me, right?”
Your head snaps back to him, and you look at him in shock. “Why would you say something like that?” You seem to hiss out.
At your tone, he becomes meeker, as if he was hiding into himself. He rubs his forehead against yours, with a hint of a whine in his throat. “Do you even like me?”
You immediately regret what you said, and instead begin to grow concerned. You have never seen him sound so upset before. “I do. I promise I do!”
His head falls into your neck, and his body begins to tremble. “You're causing me so much pain, my flame,” he whines and you begin to internally freak out.
Rengoku was never one to get his emotions involved. He was always upbeat with you, and the fact that he was so hurt over this must mean something big to him.
You place your hand on the back of his head, to try to get him to calm down. He was your idol, and now crush, you didn’t want to see him hurt, but you love your brother.
“If my brother found somewhere to live and be happy with, I would go with you. But he isn’t looking for a wife currently. So, I can't. I would love to, but I can't. I’m sorry, Kyo.”
In a heartbeat, his mood switches. He pulls his head out of your neck and begins grinning from above you. He rubs his nose onto yours, and you on instinct scrunch it up in surprise. “You want to. That's all I need. You want to live with me. Thank you. Thank you, so much!”
He rolls the two of you over so now the both of you are on your cot, with your head on his chest. You smile lightly at him, glad whatever you said finally made him calm down. 
His non-dominant hand rests on the back of your head, and you blush, finally taking in a new position. His body expels warmth, and you find comfort in it. 
Savorying the last amount of time you have with him to the fullest. It’s getting harder to ignore the ache in your chest whenever you think about him leaving.
Slumber begins to take a hold of you, and you listen to the rhythmic sound of the man’s heartbeat.
A couple of minutes go by, and you hear a whisper near your ear. “My flame?”
You hum and try to hold back a smile. “I like the nickname.” 
He chuckles, and your body shakes from the force of it. “Me too. But Y/N, make sure you come back to me. Always. Do you understand?”
You yawn, in your half-sleep state, but mumble out a, “Okay.”
He sighs, and he continues to pet your hair affectionately. “Good. Goodnight. Sleep well, Y/N. Tomorrow is going to be an eventful day.”
But you couldnt hear his warning. You had already fallen asleep the second after you agreed to his strange request.
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You are awoken at 2:50 AM the next day by frantic whispers and aggressive shaking to your body. You blink a couple of times and flinch at the harsh light in your face.
Your pupils begin to constrict to the light, and your eyes scan the figure in front of you. Your brother was shaking you awake, with panicked eyes and a lantern in his hands. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to leave!”
He drags you from the cot, and you stumble forward. Your mind finally begins to awake, and you regain consciousness of the situation at hand. “Brother? What’s happening? Are you okay?”
He grabs your hand and pulls you through the small house, scrambling through cupboards looking for something. When he pulls out your father’s sword, you gulp.
He heads back over to you and begins to drag you away. “Didn’t you get the letter? You are supposed to be heading east by now!”
“What’s happening?” You reason again, voice louder and more panicked. He turns to you, and you jump at his appearance, finally able to see him clearly. His hair is a mess, he’s slightly trembling, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days. 
He grabs onto your both shoulders, and his voice coming out frantic. “A demon. Or maybe multiple. I got messages that people have been disappearing from towns, and some of their….remains have been scattered around villages. It’s traveling from village to village, and yesterday it hit the town where we get our goods. Five innocents are gone and our village should be next. Tonight.”
You stare at him, eyes wide in shock. “Why are you here? You shouldn't have come!”
“I was going to grab fathers sword. We need some sort of protection while we wait until the demon slayer’s corpse comes.” He doesn’t know how to use it, he's a healer, and neither do you, but it was better than nothing. Especially if the two of you were without a home until everything clears up. 
“Grab your knife. Everything going to be okay. Just trust me. Everything is going to be fine,” He mumbles, seemingly trying to comfort himself more than you. He begins to drag you toward the door and you begin to reach in your pocket for your father’s knife.
It wasnt there. You lost it when you cut Rengoku.
Your eyes widen when you finally realize his disappearance. You turn around and quickly scan the room before your brother pulls you completely outside. 
“Kyo-” A hand covers your mouth immediately.
Your brother looks at you in pure fear, and you feel your own bubbling up at his gaze. “Quiet. We have to be as silent as we can. It could be near,” He whispers at you, and you nod from behind his hand. 
Your eyes dart around the area for the demon slayer. But he is nowhere to be found. He’s probably out looking for it by now. 
But he’s injured. Is it really okay for him to be fighting in his state?
Your brother removes his hand from your mouth and begins to drag you forward, a sword in one hand and your hand in the other. You gulp and follow him in the darkness.
A couple of minutes go by and the two of you haven’t said a word. The both of you had heard eerie noises, and you swear you heard a woman’s scream far off in the distance.
Your mind flashes back to all of the villagers you have gotten close to. It was better not to think about it. Rengoku should be there soon.
The two of you took the path into the woods. It was not the normal path to take when heading eastward, but it was safer. You both knew the woods well, and the chances are the demon is raiding the village. That’s what they have targeted the last couple of days at least.
Suddenly, you hear a growl to the right of you guys. Your brother freezes, and you run into the back of him. Your heartbeat picks up, and the hair on your neck rises. Your brother is trembling in front of you.
You turn to noise to see three bright yellow eyes staring at the two of you. A deathly aura creeps on the two of you, and it’s pin-drop silent.
Your brother grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you forward yelling out, “Run!”
As on instinct, you turn back to him to pull him with you, but he’s gone. As if he vanished into thin air. The eyes disappeared as well.
A mass amount of dread and fear weighs on top of you, as you begin frantically scanning the woods. Your heartbeat is pounding in your chest and you’re shaking out of your wits. “Brother? Brother, where are you!”
Tears begin to form in your waterline, and you begin running, searching desperately for any trace of him. In the back of your mind you know your not going to be able to do anything, but it doesn’t stop you from trying.
You wish Rengoku was here. He would be able to find your brother in a heartbeat, but he was most likely in the village. Where the demon should have been. But it doesn’t stop you from calling his name desperately for help.
Which is exactly how you attracted your very own demon. Your brother told you to be quiet, and you should have listened better. Fear made you naive.
It was standing in front of you, its eyes seemingly pinning you down. It was smiling at you, showing off its razor-sharp teeth, and you take a step back. You were trembling, alone, and defenseless against the demon.
“What’s a young girl like you doing out here alone?” The voice was high in pitch and shrill. A step toward you.
You don't respond, eyes darting around for an exit, while the demon continues to laugh and move forward, closer toward you.
You turn around and run. You dont have many choices in this situation and you rather take a chance than be a sitting duck.
It didn’t work, but you knew it wouldn’t. The demon grabs at your leg and pulls you back toward him. You fall forward onto the ground and hiss at the feeling of rock digging into your skin. You are being pulled backward, and the clawed hand on your ankle makes you shiver.
“I think I will take my time with you,” The being coos, licking a stripe up the back of your leg. 
Tears stream down your cheek as try to kick it off, to no avail. It’s going to tear your limps apart and eat you. Your brother is not going to be saved, and your family line is going to end.
With your last plea, you begin to scream. Loud enough to most likely alert every living being in the forest. Even the demon hisses out in annoyance.
Suddenly, there is a flash of orange and red. A flame.
You hear the plop of a sliced head a second later, and the slicing sound of the demon’s arm being physically removed from your leg. You cringe at the sound, but relief immediately floods your veins.
You turn your head to the side to see Rengoku, slightly frowning in concentration while he sheathes his sword. When he catches your eye, he smiles, and the comforting action makes the tears continue to flow.
He's holding you in an instant, crouched on one knee while wrapping his arms around your figure. His eyes are wide with slight panic, and his grip on you is tight. In any other situations, it may have been overbearing, but you craved the warmth.
His voice is hoarse and seemed to have a waver in it. “I was so scared, my flame when I couldn't find you. I thought you really left me. Or something worse had happened to you. The thought makes me feel ill. Tell me, why were you in the woods? You weren't supposed to be in the woods!”
You take a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself down, while he runs his hands up and down your body as if reassuring himself that you are actually there. “We were trying to–” You freeze, eyes widening and immediately squirming in his grasp. “My brother. We have to find my brother! A demon has him!”
His hold on you doesn’t let go, and your movement is futile. He stares into the distance as if almost entranced by something. He doesn’t say anything for a long second, but when he does, his voice seems to be in a whisper. “Does it now?” 
You don’t pay attention to the tone, too distracted by the thought of your brother being on the verge of death. “Yes! So we have to go. Kyo, we don't have time!”
He hums, and the grip on you loosens, allowing you to stand up, and away from him. He stands in front of you, calm and composed while staring at you. You, on the other hand, are scanning the woods frantically trying to figure out where the demon is and failing miserably.
“Let’s go this way,” You say with uncertainty, pointing to the direction where you had last seen him. When you take a step forward, a hand grips your wrist, and you make eye contact with his owl-like eyes.
“You will stay. I will find him for you. It’s too dangerous for you.” The statement is unwavering as if it was a command to you, with no room for question.
“But-”
“Don't be afraid, my flame. I will place you in a tree, safe and hidden from harm.” He didn’t understand that you did not care for your own safety, it was your brother that you were concentrated with.
You turn to him with pleading eyes. The idea of you sitting here while your brother could be getting murdered, makes you feel sick. You need to be there for him the second Rengoku saves him. “Please, I won't get in the way! I can help, please just don’t leave me behind.”
His eyes widen at the statement, and he grips onto your shoulders with both hands. “I would never leave you behind. Never in a thousand years. But I am not the type of person to put the one I care about in danger. You will sit on a branch until I grab you. Safe from harm.”
He scoops you up with ease, and you jump with slight surprise. Then, he walks over to the nearest tree. “Please?” You plead for the last time, and he smiles at you.
“Everything will be fine, my love. After tonight, everything will be perfect. Just let me do this.” He murmurs and you sigh, and allow him to do whatever must be done. 
He walks up to the nearest tree and eyes it, before making a small huffing sound. Then he holds you in one arm and jumps. Way higher than a normal man would be able to you, and your eyes widen in shock.
He grabs onto a branch and pulls the two of you up, while you continue to stare at the fact that he is doing this effortlessly with one hand. He sets you down onto the branch, with your back leaning on the trunk for support.
You glance down and gulp. It was way higher than you expected, but Rengoku didn’t seem to notice it. He is balanced on the branch with ease and instead is focused solely on you. “You will be okay, do not fret. If anything goes amiss, shout for me and I will come running.”
You nod your head and he smiles softly. He begins to turn around but pauses when you grip his kimono. “You will save him right?”
He blinks at you and sightly frowns. “Everything will be alright.”
You believed him.
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You were an idiot. An idiot for believing him. An idiot for jumping out of the tree in the first place.
Not long after Rengoku left you, you heard your brothers scream.
You acted on pure instinct. You moved within a second, trying to climb down the tree. The Hashira made it seem easier than it was to maneuver on the tree. You slipped and fell. 
You hissed when you landed on the floor. Very much close to breaking your legs, but you got lucky. You stand up and try to ignore the pain shooting up your spine. Then, you turn toward where you heard the noise.
It was during your sprint you realized you made a mistake. What were you going to do against a demon? How are you going to help your brother? He was the one medically trained, not you. Aren’t you just going to make things worse? You could be killed too.
But you were too deep in it now. Tree trunks turn into a blur as you continue to run, your legs throbbing with every step. 
You notice a figure and stop immediately. When you catch your breath and notice who it is, you cover your mouth. Your father’s sword lays next to the curled-up body. There was so much blood, he was barely recognizable. 
But you couldn't keep your eyes trained on your loved one. Crouching above him was a demon, chewing. 
Nausea hits you like a train and you’re forced to take a step back. You dont have it in you to scream for help. Would Rengoku even get here in time?
Where is he? What was he doing all this time? He told you everything is going to be fine, why is your brother laying in a pool of his own blood?
You continue to stare, the fear making you immobile. You take in the demon. It was strange, nothing like the one you had last saw. It was trembling before the body, as if afraid of something. It’s letting out disgusting wavering whines and cries, between each bite. 
Your thoughts are cut short. 
A shiver runs up your spine, and you freeze. You see the hair on your arms begin to raise, and your breath catches. Your eyes flicker back to the body, and the demon hasn’t moved. 
A nail as sharp as a dagger, trails its way up your arm, and you begin to tremble. You feel the power the demon emits, and it is different from the one before. 
You shouldn't have moved. You shouldn't have left the tree.
You hear the horrific noise before you can feel it. Your eyes flicker to the space right above your hip, to see the long fingernail peering out. Through you. And in an instant, you hear the squelching noise, and the finger is gone. 
Like a dog lapping a bone, you hear the demon lick its finger clean and shiver.
You hear frantic, nervous mumbles behind you. “Just a taste is fine. It’s alright if I have just a taste. I didn’t kill her, just wanted to try it…”  The being that made your skin crawl, sounded absolutely petrified. You didn’t know of what, and you didn’t want to find out. 
But, you didn’t have time to ponder. Your kimono is turning a deep red, and you feel the blood beginning to drip down to your legs. You fall to your knees with wide eyes, not knowing what to do. If you don’t wrap it, you are sure to bleed out within minutes.
The demon behind you panics, frantically telling himself that you aren’t going to die and everything is fine. But you’ve tuned it out.
You look up toward your brother again and freeze. Just a couple feet to the right of the two figures was a man leaning against a tree. The fiery hair that you could pinpoint in a crowd makes him recognizable in less than a second.
Rengoku was watching your brother get devoured with a blank stare.
The loss of blood had to make you see things. Or maybe it was the fear. Something had to be wrong with you. He would never do such a thing.
You clutch at your side with your hand. “Kyo?” You mumble, and his head snaps toward you, somehow hearing the call. He removes himself from the tree in an instant, and he stares at you with wide frantic eyes. You’ve never seen him look so petrified. 
In a blink of the eyes, and a flash of a flame you hear the demon behind you getting beheaded. “She isn’t dead! You promised! I was–” Another slicing sound and silence.
He’s by your side in the next second. He’s tearing off his kimono in an instant. “What are you doing here? Y/N, you're not supposed to be here! Fuck, the bleeding.” He’s tearing apart the cloth with his teeth, and wrapping it around your torso. You don't notice the shaking of his hands.
You feel dizzy and weak, from the mix of the bleeding out and all the other beatings you sustained. You can’t focus on his words, you are staring at your brother.
You miss the panic of his words. The way he trembles in front of you. “It's going to be okay. Don’t worry, I will take care of everything. It'll be okay.”
The demon has scrambled off, and it was just his mutilated body left behind and the sword. Tears well up in your eyes, and your brother’s now lifeless eyes stare into yours. 
You point to him and Rengoku follows your finger. Your words are soft, broken. “Help him. Please.”
But he ignores you. You're being lifted again, the callused hand putting a decent amount of pressure on the wound. He leads you back to your house, while your left staring at the body left in the grass. 
You're exhausted, you can't fight him. For the last time, you plead, “Help him.” before closing your eyes and slumping against his body. 
“It's going to be alright, my flame. I won't let anything happen to you. I will protect you now.”
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janetbrown711 · 3 months ago
Text
To My Alcoholic Friends
Despite the fact it never, ever ends well, Pigsy, Tang and Sandy spend another Friday night out on the town, drinking and dancing and losing all of their inhibitions before they know it. This can only end well
LMK Bad Things Happen Bingo Prompt: Didn't Want to be Saved
tw for moderate gore, violence, homophobic slurs, hate crimes, anger issues, post traumatic stress, and some very tame horniness before everything goes to hell in a handbasket
Ao3 Link
Pigsy, Tang, and Sandy went out every Friday night, despite it almost ending in disaster every time. Tang would get shitfaced, Pigsy would run his mouth, and Sandy would get into a fight or two just about every other week. Frankly, it was a miracle they were even allowed in bars anymore, but the bar owners always said they'd seen worse, somehow. Pigsy had his doubts about the whole thing, but was glad to be able to go out and away from the pressures of society. After all, heaven knows Tang needs these nights out more than anyone, and someone had to watch Sandy's back to make sure he didn't get himself killed, so Pigsy was always glad to go along and pay the tab.
It was a delicate balance, the three of them, but Pigsy liked it that way. Everything felt right in the world when he was protecting those he cared about.
“UGH, God, if I have to deal with that professor nagging about how I shouldn’t use oxford commas one more time, I'm going to fall into an early grave,” Tang flung the door open to the bar, finding an empty stool and sitting with a huff.
Pigsy laughed. “See, this is why I say college is a waste of time. All that scholar talk's nothing but hogwash to make them all feel superior to guys like us,” he smirked, sitting next to him.
Tang rolled his eyes. “You know my father and mother are both professors, right?”
“Yeah, and they also suck ass, ergo…” Pigsy gestured vaguely, making his partner push him playfully before ordering shots for the group.
Sandy snorted. “That's one way to put it.”
“Parents, who needs ‘em?” Pigsy elbowed Tang as the shots were placed in front of them.
“Ugh, you can say that again,” Tang instantly downed his shot before his face twisted with regret. “Man, I hate tequila. Why do I keep doing this to myself?”
“Because we’re broke as shit,” Pigsy teased.
“And because it’s cheaper than therapy,” Sandy added before slamming his.
“And God knows we can't get your piece of shit ‘father’ outta the paper if we tried,” Pigsy added, finally taking his shot too.
“You're telling me,” Tang grumbled. “And what's worse is I'm in that stupid photo– all day people have been walking up to me and talking about his achievements in space technology and blah blah blah– I'm sick of it! I'm sick of him! He's an asshole! Not someone who's going to unlock the cosmos!”
“Yeah, your pop's a real piece of work,” Pigsy cringed.
“More like a piece of shit. Tossing you out, and for what?” Sandy growled. “He's weak and pathetic, and if I ever see him in public, rest assured I'd teach him a lesson ‘bout respect,” Sandy swore, eyes dark and dangerous.
Tang scratched his neck. “I-I don't know if that's necessary, Sandy, but thanks,” He gave a pitiful smile, while the river demon just grunted.
“Right, well… another round, gentlemen?” Pigsy suggested.
“You know it,” Tang immediately agreed, going back to massaging his forehead. “I can't take another second of thinking about my stupid thesis or my parents, or this song, ugh,” he bemoaned, looking around the bar for a jukebox or whatever the music was coming from.
“Sandy?” Pigsy looked his way.
“Wouldn't be a Friday night without at least three shots of that horse shit,” the river demon agreed, slightly less dark in the eyes, and so another round was ordered.
However, by the time they were ready, Tang had already wandered off to fix his annoyance. It was hardly surprising, but made Pigsy shake his head nonetheless.
“You– uh– good on your own?” Pigsy asked.
Sandy chuckled. “Go find him. I'll be fine waiting until the smooch fest is over.”
“Har-har,” Pigsy rolled his eyes, taking his and Tang’s shots from the bar before beginning his search through the crowded bar.
It took a bit of weaving and bobbing, but eventually Pigsy found Tang standing by the jukebox with his coin purse out.
“Don’t tell me you hate this song that much you’d waste 50 mao– you could buy shitty ramen with that money,” Pigsy gave an exasperated sigh.
“I’m not allowed to buy shitty ramen anymore, remember?” Tang gave a little smirk, before going right back to the machine.
Pigsy rolled his eyes. “You and your spending habits fascinate me.”
“Trust me, this song’s gonna be worth it,” Tang insisted before inserting the five mao and selecting the right number.
The scholar watched with a dumb smile as the little robot arm took out the old CD and swapped it with the new one, eyes lit up like new years. Pigsy couldn’t imagine having that much excitement about some dumb machine, but it was one of the things he liked about Tang; He had a spark Pigsy lost years ago.
“Oo! Okay– okay– it’s starting!” Tang clapped his hands and finally turned to Pigsy, and jumped as he realized he had been holding their shots the entire time. “Sorry about that– I was just so excited– here,” he apologized, taking the drink from Pigsy.
“No worries,” Pigsy couldn’t help but laugh. “Ganbei?”
“Ganbei!” Tang cheered, clinking his shot glass against Pigsy's before they both drank just as the music started playing.
Immediately Pigsy's ears perked up as the familiar synth started to climb, and he started practically doubling over with laughter once the drums started.
“See? I told you you'd love it,” Tang grinned all stupid and dorky, making Pigsy wish he didn't know any better so he could grab his waist and kiss him already.
“This song is so stupid,” Pigsy said instead.
“What? You don't agree? Don't wanna ‘Lay All Your Love on Me’?” Tang batted his eyelashes.
“Tang,” Pigsy's face got all red and hot with pleasure, embarrassment, and a smidge of the alcohol kicking in.
“‘Don’t go wasting your emotion~ lay all your love on me,” Tang sang along, swaying his hips and throwing his hands in the air like a total idiot.
“You are way too much of a lightweight, you know that?” Pigsy raised a very amused eyebrow.
“And you’re too much of a hardass! C’mon, let’s dance,” His partner didn’t care one bit, moving to the beat with drunken, and irresistibly enticing carelessness.
“C’mon Tang, you know we can’t–”
“‘It was like shooting a sitting duck,’” Tang continued to sing, hands moving down his hips in an enticing way. “A little small talk, a smile, and I was stuck~”
Pigsy just rolled his eyes and stepped back, watching his partner with a stupid grin and hot face as he continued trying to serenade him.
“‘I still don’t know what you’ve done with me. A grown-up woman should never fall so easily,” Tang fake swooned, making Pigsy fold with laughter, the desire to join him growing stronger with each stupid flail and look.
“I feel a kind of fear, when I don’t have you near,” Tang batted his eyelashes. “Unsatisfied, I skip my pride, I beg you dear~” Tang extended his hand, and this time, with all inhibitions washed away with alcohol, Pigsy took it.
“‘Don’t go wasting your emotion, lay all your love on me~’” Pigsy sang along, and Tang looked so happy Pigsy could kiss him (but instead settled for placing his hands on his hips).
“Don’t go sharing your devotion, lay all your love on me~” Tang sang too, his fingers crawling up Pigsy’s arms in a way that made him shiver with delight.
They danced the whole music break together, the music and lights and Tang's general Tang-ness making it harder and harder for the pig demon to keep his hands off of him. It didn't help that the alcohol was certainly kicking in by now, making him feel all giddy and unable to look away from Tang's shaggy hair or how his changpao swayed and clung to parts of his body.
Damn it– Pigsy couldn’t take it anymore, Tang was just too irresistible when he was like this– and with the look Tang was giving him he had to know he was driving Pigsy insane– he needed him– he needed Tang now–
And so, not caring that the last verse wasn't over, Pigsy grabbed Tang’s hand and dragged him out to the back alleyway where he immediately started making out with him, which the scholar didn’t protest in the slightest.
“You’re– like– really fucking hot when you sing, you know that?” Tang said between kisses with a smug little grin.
“And you’re hot when you dance,” Pigsy replied shortly, wanting him to shut up so he could kiss him more.
Tang giggled. “Maybe I should dance for you back at the apartment~”
“Maybe you should.”
“Maybe I will~”
“God, shut the fuck up.”
“Oh sir, yes sir~”
“Tang–”
“Pigsy~ Oh-!”
That worked.
“Hey!” A voice called from down the alley.
Pigsy ignored it, gripping Tang's hair and scratches tight under his fingers, completely lost in the enchanting taste of his lover. Besides, he could easily be talking to someone else.
“Hey! I’m talking to you! What the hell you two think you're doing?”
Fuck.
Fuck– okay, slow down Pigsy, maybe he’s just step back and breathe. He's another dipshit in a long line of dipshits. You can deal.
Pigsy muttered under his breath, wiping his lips before he turned to face the bozo ruining his makeout session, sure to stand in front of Tang as he did. “Yeah?”
“This look like a fuckin’ fag house to you two?” The man spat, fingers curled into fists.
Pigsy rolled his eyes. “Maybe you oughta mind your business. What we’re doin’ ain’t got nothing to do with you,” he glared, and Tang put a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t do this, Piggy, it’s not worth it,” his partner whispered, but Pigsy brushed it off.
“We don't need more of your kind muckin’ around and taintin’ all the good bars in town,” the man sneered. “Every where I fuckin’ look there's more and more of you peach eaters.”
“Pigsy, let's just go back inside,” Tang urged, squeezing his shoulder.
“Look man, we're not here to cause trouble. Just go inside and–”
“You…” the man suddenly straightened up and pointed right at Tang, who hid closer to Pigsy. “You're the son of that rich space guy on the news, the one who’s gonna ‘take us to Mars’. I didn't know his son's a fuckin’ fairy– oh imagine the scandal,” He laughed, making Pigsy's blood boil.
“You leave him outta this,” He growled.
“What? What is this? Some kinda ‘Sugar Daddy’ situation? You suck his cock and he pays your rent?” The man howled with laughter.
“Watch it, I'm warning you,” Pigsy bared his teeth.
“Or better yet– his father kicked his faggot ass out and you’re the son of a bitch paying that jiàn fucker to have sex with you,” The man smiled and stepped closer. “How much for ‘im, huh? Ten yuan? Twelve? Five for a blowie, seven for a hand job?”
Pigsy heard Tang wince, which made Pigsy angry enough to shove the man. “I said to leave him outta this.”
“Pigsy– wait–”
“Aww, c’mon? You jealous? Or do you just not want word gettin’ out about your little wh–”
Pigsy sucker punched the idiot right in the jaw before he could finish his sentence, but the man was deceptively strong and managed to keep his stance.
“Oh I see how it is,” The man spat out some blood. “You wanna dance? Let’s dance.”
Pigsy swiftly went for another punch, but the man managed to dodge, grabbing and twisting Pigsy’s arm. His arm burned with pain, but Pigsy managed to kick the guy in the shin and knee, getting him to let go. When the demon went in for another punch, though, the man dodged and countered with one of his own, which hit him pretty hard.
“Yeah, you like that, you sick fuck?!” The man licked his lips, before he stuck the back of Pigsy's knee hard, bringing it to the ground.
“Pigsy!” Tang cried, getting the attackers attention.
“Oh, I'm sorry lover boy, am I hurting your paycheck?” He asked before trying to kick Pigsy in the ribs, which he mostly succeeded in, though the pig tried to grab his leg to stop it.
“You… leave him outta this!” Pigsy growled, anger burning just bright enough for him to grab and toss the guy to the ground. He gave a hard kick to the ribs for good measure, before running to Tang.
“Tang–” he panted– “Tang– you gotta get out of here– go– I can handle ‘im,” he urged, grabbing his shoulders.
“Wha–? No! I'm not leaving you like this! W-we should go together,” Tang shook his head tearfully, taking Pigsy's hand and pulling.
“Go back inside and find Sandy, it's okay,” The demon stood firm just as he felt the man get up and grab his shirt collar. Pigsy immediately jerked his head back, freeing him from his grasp.
However, he needed a stupid second to recover from the choking sensation, which was just long enough for the man to grab Pigsy's front collar and shove him against the wall, punching him again and again and again– and not just in the face, but in the stomach, in the ribs– everywhere. There was even a loud CRACK at one point that made his lungs feel on fire, but the man just kept going and going–
Until he suddenly stopped, though kept Pigsy pressed against the wall.
“Hey sweetheart, let's make an offer, eh?” The man suddenly looked to Tang who was trembling on the ground and pulling on his scarf, eyes wide with terror. “Let's say I get to take your sweet little queer ass home in exchange for this little piggy to live, eh?”
“S-stop this-! Let him go!” Tang choked out, finally bursting into sobs.
“I will! Just let me have the honor of seein’ you do a little dance or two for me,” the man grinned all smug, spurring up Pigsy's rage once again.
“You leave ‘im outta this, you son of a bitch,” Pigsy spat blood on his attacker, who gripped his throat tighter.
“C'mon, sweet thing, it's either you or the pork,” his assailant reached into his pocket where he had a switchblade– fuck–
Pigsy saw Tang's eyes go wide and briefly meet the chef's own. Immediately Pigsy shook his head– he wasn't worth it– he won't leave you alone– I can still fix this– Go. Home– when out of the blue the man was pulled away from him and Pigsy fell to the ground.
He felt Tang rush to his side instantly, though was alarmed when he realized he heard his attacker screaming– though when he looked up, it wasn't a surprise as to why.
Sandy had grabbed him, bending his arm the wrong way before kicking him to the ground and pinning him down. The man instantly begged him to stop– that he would just forget he ever saw any of them and call it a day, Pigsy knew that look in Sandy's eyes, and the river demon started striking again and again and–
“Pigsy–! Can you hear me?! Are you okay?!” Tang had apparently been trying to talk to the demon, though when he finally met his eyes, it didn't seem to matter as Tang just hugged him anyway.
“I'm so sorry– I'm so sorry– I could've stopped him– I was scared– I'm so sorry, I could've lost you,” Tang hiccuped.
“It's okay, Tang, it's okay, its–”
CRACK
Pigsy and Tang froze at the sound as the night air went still and silent, except for the sound of Sandy grunting and continuing to punch the ma–
The man's skull was cracked open– blood and liquids and chipped pieces of bones flowing and splattering out while Sandy continued– punch after punch after punch it just got worse– blood coating his friend's fist– splashing up to his elbows. The body squelched and cracked in noises so unholy it had the demon praying to the heavens it would stop and he could just forget the look in his friend’s eye– the look of pure, unfiltered, unadulterated rage as he beat the dead man again and again and again. It didn’t matter if he was punching a corpse, Sandy wouldn’t stop (maybe even couldn’t) until his rage– his bloodlust was satisfied.
Pigsy had known Sandy had anger issues, but never anything like this before…
Eventually, Tang sniffled and broke the embrace. “W-well… we should probably get you home– or to a hospital,” he smiled, looking over his shoulder. “Sandy–”
An unholy sound escaped Tang, as he instantly fell back and away from Sandy, grabbing Pigsy's arm as he watched in rigid terror. The sound was enough to make the river demon finally stop and stand, unnaturally still.
Pigsy struggled to make sound, the noise trapped in his throat. He tried to stand, and despite the fact it filled his chest with the intense burning of a thousand suns, he eventually got up.
“Sandy– it's– we can fix this, w-we just gotta get outta here, alright?” He looked around anxiously. The music was still thumping from inside the bar so it was impossible to hear if anyone was nearby, but Pigsy– Pigsy was sure they could make it.
“Y-yeah, we'll just– we just need to get outta here, alright? We'll just toss– toss… it, and then go to the apartment and just--we'll figure it out from there, alright Sands?” He forced a smile at Sandy, who didn't meet his eyes.
“Tang– Tang, let's get you up, okay? It's fine, we're all good, it's– we'll get new clothes, move to a new city, get new names– a new life. It'll be okay, everything is okay,” Pigsy tried helping Tang up, but his partner shriveled away from his touch, actively shaking with the wildest eyes Pigsy had ever seen.
“Tang– Tang, it's okay, it’s okay– we’ll just go home and lay low for awhile, it’s okay, please– just stand up and–”
“Pigsy, stop.” Sandy suddenly spoke up, deep voice cracking with emotion Pigsy couldn’t understand.
The pig blinked. “S-Sandy– Sandy, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay–”
“No. It won’t.” He looked at Pigsy, revealing a face and bear battered with blood and bits of Pigsy’s attacker– a man– a person who was now completely annihilated and unrecognizable at the hands of the river demon.
Pigsy shook the thought away– he needed to get Sandy and Tang out of here, and fast. They were currently at the bar on Ba De and Shengli roads– Pigsy’s restaurant wouldn’t be for a couple blocks, but if Tang stopped by a corner store and got some baby wipes–
“Pigsy, you can’t make this better. Stop trying,” Sandy growled, making the chef take a step back directly against the wall of the bar.
“No! This– this can be fixed, he was an asshole anyways, w-we can just– we’re gonna go back to my place– Tang’ll go and buy baby wipes to clean you up a-and we’ll just fucking chill the fuck out for a couple days, alright?! It’ll be fucking fine!” Pigsy demanded, though shrank back when he saw Sandy’s eyes flash dangerously.
“Pigsy, it’s fucking over. Take Tang, and go home,” Sandy ordered.
“No! It’s– it ain’t over until I say it’s over and I don’t say so, s-so–!” Pigsy couldn’t stand looking at his friend, but everywhere else was stained and oozing and making Pigsy’s breathing even worse than before.
“Pigsy, it’s over, goddammit!” Sandy shouted, fists clenched in rage. “That man is dead, I killed him, and there is nothing you can do about it.”
“God, fucking– I didn't ask you to do this, Sandy!” Pigsy suddenly shouted, adrenaline pumping fast in his broken chest. “I had it handled! I coulda fixed this fucking problem all on my own but you had to be a fucking hero like you always do–”
“You really think if I hadn't arrived exactly when I did, your sorry ass wouldn't be bleeding out right now?” Sandy spat out a bitter laugh.
“I would've figured it out! But no! You have to go a-and make everything worse for yourself– and of course you won't let me fucking help you either! You're ridiculous!” Pigsy could laugh too, though it made him wince in pain.
“Take a look in a fucking mirror, Pigsy,” Sandy looked away and shook his head. “You need to get Tang and get outta here before you end up ruining not only your life, but Tang’s life too–”
“I didn't ask you to rescue me, alright?! You didn’t have to swoop in. I didn’t want this– I didn’t ask for this!” Pigsy’s voice cracked, and before he knew it tears started to form in his eyes.
“Yeah? Well I didn’t ask for you to be such a dipshit you’d let yourself get caught again, but you know by now we don’t all get what we want now, do we?” Sandy’s eyes narrowed.
“Jesus– this is just like you, you know that?” Pigsy threw his hands up, exasperated. “I go outta my way to try and protect you, and this is all the thanks I get. Nice. Real nice, Sandy,” he spat.
“Pigsy–”
“No… No, you know what?” Pigsy laughed, wiping his face of hot tears. “Let’s just– just shut up and go home already. Once we’re home, we can cool off a-and think straight and then we’ll have a plan for what we’re gonna do and what we’re gonna say. We just gotta get home first, I’m sure my Nana’ll be to help,” Pigsy tried to assert and grab Tang’s arm, but Sandy interfered.
“What, so you’ll drag her down too into this whole fucking nightmare too? Tang and yourself not good enough?” Sandy’s voice rumbled low and dangerous.
“Dammit, Sandy! I’m not letting you throw your life away! Not like this!” Pigsy begged, a sob making a quick escape before being suppressed.
“Pigsy, go before I make you,” Sandy warned, completely unmoved by the onslaught of emotion.
“No! I don’t care! I am getting you outta here a-and we’re gonna go home– and we’re gon–” Pigsy’s rambling was cut off by Sandy’s fist that sent him flying down the alley, another terrible shriek escaping Tang.
Immediate ringing flooded Pigsy’s ears, a fuzziness that had been mild before increasing tenfold now. He could feel Tang on him, grabbing him, shaking him, trying to see if he was okay. When Pigsy opened his eyes though, all he saw was Sandy holding the dead man’s knife and glaring down silently.
After a good, hard look, Sandy whispered, “Leave,” and before Pigsy could accept or refuse, Tang grabbed his arm and forced him to run up and away.
They made it all the way to the opposite block before they stopped, Pigsy's sides stinging and head throbbing too much to go on like that. Once the fuzziness cleared and the ringing in his head stopped, he finally got a good look at Tang and–
Oh. Oh god– he was still shaking like an animal, eyes wide and muttering utter nonsense to himself, a waterfall of tears streaming down his face as he rubbed his arms up and down and up and down.
“Tang– Tang, it's okay, you're okay,” Pigsy grabbed his shoulders, successfully getting his partner to look at him and loosen his shoulders a bit.
However, the second he relaxed he began to wretch and quickly stumbled to the nearest trash can where he puked his brains out while sobbing.
“Hey now, it's alright, you're okay Tang, I got you, you're alright,” Pigsy soothed tiredly, rubbing circles into his back while the scholar trembled at the effort.
It took ten minutes, but when he was done, Tang embraced his demonic partner, burying his head into his shoulder and sobbing out apologies and fears and worries and promises at lightning speeds. It made Pigsy feel like he was going to puncture a rib, but let Tang have his words, pressing a soft kiss against his head he didn't care if anyone saw and nuzzling close.
“It's alright, Tang. I got you. You're safe. It'll be okay,” he whispered, tears stinging his eyes yet again. He couldn't have chosen a more blatant lie in his life– his best friend killed someone, and was just left facing it all alone– it wasn't right! It wasn't fair! And by God was it infuriating.
Sandy was probably going to be sentenced to death for his crime, meaning the last interaction the two would ever have was him punching Pigsy in his stupid face.
Pigsy clenched his eyes shut and buried his face in Tang's scarf, finally letting out a loud sob.
His best friend was going to die because of him.
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monstrouslyobsessed · 2 years ago
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Concept : Reader is a shrine priestess and have a crush on the shrine priest. But he is so powerful that people made a contract with the snake demon. They let him eat the priest in exchange for not attacking the village. The priest tried to fight the snake, but he was defeated. The villagers cut off his arms, so the snake can eat him better. Reader tried to save him, but was locked away in the shrine. But the priest cursed the village and his fused with the snake making him a snake monster he killed all the villagers and cut off six arms to replace those he lost. And now he can claim his sweet shrine maiden all for himself. (Sorry if its quite long and detailed, do as you wish) Thanks! —anonymous
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—a/n: alright, i’ll bite and do this one with my own take, but please add the source behind such suggestions next time lol this one is originally from the compilation manga ive read forever ago, Hachishaku Hachiwa Keraku Meguri (TW!!! under-age, noncon, horror, extremely dead dove!!!), specifically the 4th story. i…don’t recommend reading every story btw, some of them are very…yikes, but the 4th one is pretty good if you can get past a certain issue (namely, the mc’s vague age range). the main difference is that the monster is a woman and mc’s a guy.
if you want my personal recs, stick with reading 3rd (the statues, is okay), 4th (6-armed snake lady, fave if only because of the monster’s beautiful design and backstory but wished the mc would be someone older), and 5th (swamp-worm monster in the forest, warning, pregnancy/birthing is involved, is okay) story and ignore the rest. 2nd (the monster on the road) is okay, actually, but i hated the monster’s creepy old man design lol rest is just a big fat no to me for various reasons.
anyway….i rambled enough. i think…i might actually keep this character, even if he isn't entirely original and is (almost) literally the genderbent version from the manga. i actually envisioned him with dark-colored skin though. hm, so the setting might even be different! i’ll let yall decide~enjoy!
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—tw / tags: gn reader, horror, gore, violence, imprisonment, neglect, implied multiple deaths, amputations, general yandere themes, sfw…ish
—featured character(s): 6-armed snake-god / cursed priest
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You can hear the screaming in your ears, the horrible gut-wrenching shrieks heralding the arrival of death. The earth rumbled distantly beneath your feet, striking unspeakable fear in your cold veins, pounding your heart, and your empty stomach twisting with nausea. You shuddered and your voice came out weak, dehydrated, “N-no…”
Raking your throbbing nails down the wood, bloody raw from scratching and pounding on the chained door, you fell to your knees and bowed your head. You’ve warned them, that the demon would not accept the trade—or that the priest wouldn’t retaliate in some way. A choke erupted from your dusty throat at the vision of the priest you cherished so, so much flashed within your mind.
His warming smile and the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, had transformed into something wrathful and malicious. His expression became one that spoke of murder, of dark, malevolent intent, as the hateful village men severed his arms and fed him into the yawning mouth of the snake-god. It wasn’t his cruel fate that had broken your heart and shattered it into pieces though.
The very moment before he disappeared into the slicked depth of the demon’s belly, the priest saw you and wore a horrified face. With blood tears running down his eyes, he interrupted his furious cursing with a soft whisper of your name. You remembered screaming through your tears and fighting against the fisted hands of burly men then, when the snake-god folded its mouth shut and swallowed him whole.
That was the last you’d seen of him and wept his name as the men dragged you from the forest clearing, satisfied that you were too weak to save the one they all feared.  
He shouldn’t have died fearing for you.
As they’d thrown you into the dilapidated shrine, you were numbed with fury and sorrow and shouted that the demon would hunger for their flesh once more, that the priest had cursed them all, when they slammed the door shut and leave you for the dead. Your pleas and cries grew hoarse as you screamed your grief to the sky. There was no reply, only jeers from the village in the distance, as if laughing about your foolishness, that you shouldn’t have fallen in love with the priest.
Their cruelty was beyond your comprehension
You had no idea how long time had passed, there was no light in this rotting shrine, not even a single peek of any warm sunlight or the moon’s soft glow. There was no water, for your throat ran dry and your skin tightened on your bones, and there was no food as your stomach stopped rumbling some time ago. The villagers intended to let you die alone, pitifully and bitterly alone.
It could’ve been days, it could’ve been weeks, when you rose your head from the coarse ground, confused.  Weakly, your hand reached towards the wooden door, and your calloused fingers traced around its edges, feeling along the rough surface and finding the raw marks you left behind, until they settled on a crook. Something familiar electrified the air, the sense of power pressed into your senses. You furrowed your brows—before fear sunk in your nerves once more.
The demon had returned to welt its hunger.
Screams followed and you remained in the shrine, with no more tears to shed. You couldn’t weep for the cruel men and your tongue was too dry for you to utter even a single prayer for the innocent children you once tended to. You bowed your head between your knees, but you were still alive.
You still knew fear, trembling with the desire to live.
Your hands were shaking wildly, but you forced them back into prayer as the screams continued unabated. The walls rattled with thunderous crashes. Louder and louder, until finally, after hours of agony, they stopped. Silence followed.
Only silence and the smell of blood, lingered. And an ominous feeling.
You slowly rose from your hunched position, your gaze fixed on the wooden door. The air had turned heavy with tension, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Something approached, quietly grinding the pebbles and dirt underfoot as it moved closer and closer.
Somehow, the walls started swaying and the sound of cracking timber reached your ears, rising above the deafening sounds of your heartbeats and your shuddering breathing. You clasped your hands into a prayer once more and begged the gods to answer, to spare you from the belly of the snake-god. Your prayers became desperate begging, for mercy.
As if in response to your prayer, the ceiling creaked and groaned and a low growl emanated from above. Your eyes widened, and you stumbled backward, barely catching yourself on a nearby pillar. The walls rumbled, and cracks began appearing along the floorboards.
Then, the light.
It cut into the pitch-black darkness you’d been trapped in for days and blinded you. Clasping your hands over your eyes, wincing in discomfort as if light burned you, something exploded overhead, shattering the roof tiles and raining tiny chunks onto your head. You flinched at the loud noise, shielding your face and ducking your head between your legs from any further danger.
As the crackling groan quietened, you remained still—half expecting the pain to cut into your skin and long teeth tearing into your brittle flesh. But, silence hangs thickly above into the air. As if in waiting for you to unveil your eyes to the world.
You hesitated, before slowly lifting your head, squinting and blinking against the light. When you adjusted to the brightness, you blinked and saw shadows. Shadows cast by a massive serpentine being coiling amidst the splinters and rocks littering the ground all around you, staring down at you with glowing golden eyes.
Your breath caught in your throat and you staggered forward, your arms reaching above your head, “—! You…you came back…?” Your words broke and dissolved into hiccupping sobs that shook your frail frame.
Long discolored arms distended from the being’s side, wrapping around you in a dangerous embrace. The priest’s pale face buried into the crook between your neck and shoulder, nuzzling into your dirt-caked hair and releasing a deep purr. Its body vibrated and you felt yourself being lifted from the ground. Your arms instinctively snaked themselves tighter around its thin neck, your cheek pressing against its strangely scaled skin, and you squeezed your eyes tightly shut. “Don’t leave me…please don’t leave me again…” You cried, with rivers of tears falling down your cheeks.
Tears you thought were completely dried out.
This was not the priest you remembered, his ashen body protruding from the mouth of the dead-eyed snake-god, his grin jarring with a smile too large for his handsome face, and having a few arms too many stitched to his sides. But as his fiery golden eyes warmed and his touches overly gentle on your skin, you knew. This was the same man you loved, the very man who never ceased to cherish you and always looked for ways to make you smile on bad days. Even after all this time. Even when everything else changed, he remained steadfast, loving, and kind.
—though, only to you, as he held you as if you were the most precious jewel in his world. Despite his loving gaze, he was dressed in the blood and guts of those he’d gleefully slaughtered for their slights against him, glimmering on his eternally long tail in the moonlight. Yes, he gripped your tiny body tighter to his emaciated body, all he’ll ever need is you.
—end
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7demonhoes · 4 years ago
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The devildom and hell are not the same
I haven’t posted in forever because I was busy dying at school but I’ve finally finished a fic I’ve been working on forever. I decided to break it up into two parts because this is super long, so expect a Part 2!! I am begging you to let me know if you like it 
MC is tired of the demon brothers being secretive and decides to take it into their own hands to figure out just what they’re hiding. 
Word Count: 5016
Warnings: Angst, body horror, gore mentions. The demons act like actual demons. 
All things considered, living in hell has been easier than I expected. 
Sure, I've been threatened and actually murdered by a demon, but in the end, I've come out unscathed. And over the past couple of months, I find myself enjoying the time I spend with the demon brothers more and more. 
I can't complain; it's not like I should be worried about my demon friends not being very… well, demonic, but sometimes I'll bring it up to them and be left with vague answers and quick changes of the subject. I once asked Satan where all of human history got their ideas of Hell and demons in general, but he immediately gave some half-baked excuse of forgetting to do a book report and left me alone before I could finish the sentence. 
Even Beelzebub, who will tell me literally anything as long as I promise him some food, will turn down the opportunity for a snack to answer my questions. 
It's not like I'm surprised. I know that there has to be some parts of their lives that I'm not given privy of, but sometimes it makes me feel almost lonely to know that they have become such a large part of my life while I remain to be a lowly, undistinguished human who doesn't deserve to know whatever they're hiding. 
I could always use my pact with one of them to coax the information out, but I'm afraid of the consequences. Of course I want to know why they won't tell me anything, but my desire to not break their trust is much stronger. 
So I've decided to drop it. But lately, the brothers have been acting strangely. And after what happened yesterday, the desire to know what's going on behind my back is becoming too strong to ignore. 
Lucifer has been in a progressively worse mood for a few days now, snapping at me or his brothers every time we manage to annoy him, no matter how slightly. Yesterday, when Mammon asked if he could use some salt to put on the food Lucifer had prepared, Lucifer's horns practically jumped out of his skull as he stood up and clutched at the back of his chair, glaring at Mammon with glowing, dark eyes. 
Belphie slowly stood up, his usually heavy eyes wide awake as he cautiously made his way over to Lucifer. Careful not to touch him, he stood at Lucifer's side until the enraged demon turned to rest his steely glare on Belphie. Mammon visibly slumped with relief as Belphie stood his ground. 
"Lucifer," Belphie's voice was calm and almost pleading. "This isn't you. You have to go. When do you have time?" 
Lucifer clenched his hands even more tightly on the chair, his grip so strong that the metal underneath his palms groaned as it twisted. "If I had time," Lucifer forced his words out through gritted teeth, "I would have gone by now." 
Belphie narrowed his eyes. Lucifer growled in response. "Come on, Luci. We all promised. Not in front of the human." 
My heart dropped. Was this what they were hiding from me?
Before I could think any longer about the subject, Lucifer's voice drew me back to the conversation. "I can smell their curiosity from here." He grinned, fangs poking at his bottom lip. His smile sent shivers down my spine. "Don't you think they have the right to know?" 
Beside me, Beel stood up and positioned himself so that he was in between me and Lucifer. I looked around the table; Mammon's eyes were glowing just like Lucifer's, his entire body tense. Even Asmo looked ready to pounce, his eyes sliding from Lucifer to me. Levi stood still, his mouth open, hands clenched tightly around the table cloth.
Satan's voice was a warning. "I think you should go cool off in your room, brother." 
Lucifer curled his lip into a snarl. "And I think you should know your place." 
Despite his threatening words, Lucifer slowly let go of the destroyed chair and turned around, striding out of the dining hall and towards his room. 
Even after all of that, the rest of the brothers refused to say anything to me. 
And now, as I sit alone in the common room and play some silly puzzle game on my DDD, I'm startled by the sudden feeling that someone is watching me. 
I take a quick look around the room, which appears to be empty. I look back down at my phone with a shrug and try to ignore the hair raising on the back of my neck. 
It's normal for the brothers to become irritable. Occasionally, and especially when one of the brothers had a very busy week, they become easily angered and will usually burst into their demon form. They'll eventually be calmed down by the rest of the brothers. Somehow, the demons have a way of knowing when to pick a fight with an irritated brother.  
Before, I thought they would sometimes leave the house after one of their episodes to get away from their brothers and be by themselves for a while, but after what Belphie said yesterday… 
Where does Lucifer need to go? And why can't I know about it? 
Not in front of the human. 
Despite the warm fire crackling beside me, I still have to suppress a shiver. 
I want to know where they go and what they do. But the memory of Lucifer's anger keeps popping into my head, coupled with warning bells. If I try to pursue this, it could put me in danger. 
But hey, I live every day surrounded by demons, so what else is new? 
I look up from my DDD with resolve to see Lucifer standing only three feet away from me. I jump, scrambling into a sitting position on the couch. 
Lucifer doesn't move; he stands still like a statue, his eyes trained on me like those of a predator. 
I stare into the pools of black and find nothing but hunger within. 
"Lucifer?" My voice is timid and trembles as it leaves my tongue. The demon stiffens, and for a second I think I'm watching his skin ripple against his flesh. 
But then I blink, and it's still. "Lucifer?" I ask again, my voice slightly steadier this time. 
"Human," his voice is even deeper than usual, "Lately, you have not been as frightened to be in the Devildom. But surely you still possess fear when you look at me, yes?" 
I stare at him, hoping he can't hear the rapid beating of my heart. Lucifer has never acted this way. Is this a joke? Did I do something wrong? 
"I'm not afraid of you," I say. 
"No?" He takes a step forward and I try to push myself deeper into the folds of the couch. "Then we shall make amends to that." 
He smiles at me, his lips stretching far wider than what should be possible. His mouth is full of smooth, pointed fangs, his incisors stretching over his lips. His gums are black and shiny. 
His eyes are fully black. I can see my reflection in them; a tiny human huddled into the couch, shivering like wounded prey. 
Horns slowly break skin and inch out of his skull. Feathers wilt from his back, unfurling with an unhurried pace. Lucifer's flesh crawls, giving way to something else. I don't want to see what it is. I don't want to know what he's changing into; whatever this is, this is not just his demon form. 
He moves to take a step towards me, and before I can register what I'm doing, I open my mouth and scream. 
Lucifer's face contorts into a look of blind rage and he tenses, hands outstretched towards me, legs bending so that he can jump-
A blur vaults over the couch and slams into Lucifer with a hiss. A second later, Mammon sprints into the room and pulls Lucifer backwards as Levi, who ran into the room so quickly that I couldn't see him, holds him down. Lucifer lunges towards me, teeth biting down so hard that the fangs puncture his own skin. Blood splatters onto his shirt, and it makes him roar. 
My vision blurs, and I can't tell if it's because I'm crying or blacking out. 
Warm, welcoming arms wrap around me and I turn to sob into Asmo's chest as three more pairs of footsteps echo across the common room floor. Asmo shushes me gently, his hands wrapping tightly over my ears. "Don't look, okay?"
Satan's muffled voice carries over Asmo's palms. "Stay here! We'll get Lucifer out of here!" 
I stay still until the sounds of scuffling and Lucifer's roars finally fade. Asmo releases his grip, instead moving his hands so that he can wrap one of his arms around my back and the other on the back of my legs. He effortlessly picks me up, his lips pressed tightly against my forehead. 
"It's okay," he whispers. "You're safe. Let's get you in your room, love." 
The tears won't stop. I open my mouth to speak, but can only manage a tiny squeak. 
These demons have tried to kill me multiple times. Hell, Belphie literally murdered me. And yet… and yet I have never been as afraid as I was just now.
I suddenly grow very cold. Lucifer didn't want to kill me. He wanted to hurt me. And I think he wanted to make it last. 
Asmo carries me to my room, resting me on my bed. He sits near my feet, a hand resting gently on my leg. I curl up into a ball, my body still shaking uncontrollably. 
I wait until I feel as if I can speak. "Why?" 
Asmo sighs, running a hand through his hair. It sweeps perfectly back into place. "He's been really stressed lately. Maybe after some alone time-" 
I sit up with a start, cutting him off. "I'm not an idiot. That was not normal. I've seen Lucifer stressed! And that was not--  that wasn't him. He was changing." I try to push the image away, try to forget that terrible mouth or the way his skin lept and moved as if insects scuttled underneath. "He was changing into something I've never seen." I glare at Asmo. His face is a perfect blank slate, free of emotion. 
It only makes me angrier. "You can't lie to me about this anymore. Tell me what's going on." 
He shakes his head. "I can't. I promised Diavolo. We all did." He tries to reach for my hand, but I pull it away from him. Hurt flashes in his red eyes. "Look, honey, there are some…. things about being a demon that I can't tell you. Please believe me when I say that not knowing is for your own good." 
I lie down, turning my back so that I'm no longer facing him. "You can't make that decision for me." 
"It was made long before you got here."
"I don't care!" I shout. Asmodeus gasps quietly; I don't think I've ever yelled at him before. "Leave," I mutter, digging my head into my pillow, "I don't want to see any of you right now." 
I don't want to see his face. I don't want to imagine the hurt. But I'm done with the lies, with the constant avoidance. I'm going to find out what's happening. 
When I lift my head from my pillow, the only sign of Asmo is the lingering scent of his perfume. 
The remainder of the week is… strange. The air in the house is tense, and everyone seems like they're stepping around broken glass. Asmo must have told everyone my reaction, because all the brothers give me space and are careful to never get close enough to touch me. 
It feels nice at first, knowing that they care about me enough to let me go to them. But no one mentions what happened; they all just stare at me with expectant, worried eyes. 
I haven't even seen Lucifer. I know he's in the house. His study constantly smells of fresh coffee, and I can occasionally hear soft piano music drifting throughout the halls, but he somehow manages to avoid seeing me. 
It pisses me off. Is he waiting for me to approach him? Because I'm not the one who attacked him, and I refuse to crawl back to him and ask if everything is okay between us. I deserve better.
We're not eating together anymore. I don't know where the brothers eat; I've found a plate with plastic wrap with my name scribbled on it for the past four mornings and nights. 
So I've stayed in my room for the most part, only leaving for food or to attend RAD. I've considered asking Solomon or one of the angels for advice, but I don't want to bring them into this. Simeon would just ask the demons directly, Solomon would suggest magic, and Luke would… 
Well, he probably wouldn't do much besides grumble about his hatred for demons. But maybe spending some time with the adorable angel would help keep my mind off things. 
I'm about to reach across my bed for my phone and ask if he's up for some cupcake decorating when I hear the sound of two knuckles rapping at my door. 
I put my phone down and take a deep breath. "It's open." 
Beel's hulking figure emerges from behind the door. He leaves it slightly open as he takes a couple steps forward, coming to an awkward stop  in front of my dresser, hands in his pockets. A part of me twinges; usually, he just sits right beside me. 
"Hey," his smooth voice is soft, his hair covering his eyes. 
"Hi," I reply, curling my arms around my knees. It's not like I enjoy having this sort of awkward tension between the brothers, but I'm far too stubborn and annoyed to do anything about it. 
"I uh," he shifts his feet. "I'm not sure why everyone is still avoiding you. They said to wait until you told us you wanted everything to go back to normal, but I miss you." 
Beel turns to the side to show a stuffed backpack on his back. "I want to eat with you. Is it okay?" 
I smile, tapping the spot on my bed next to me. "Thank you." 
"Of course," he nods, already reaching into the backpack to pull out a handful of snacks. He sits down, his back leaning against my pillows. He puts the bag in between us before taking a bag of chips and pouring it into his mouth. He swallows, turning to me. "Do you want to talk about it?" 
I snort bitterly. "You apparently can't tell me anything I actually want to know." 
Beel looks at me like a lost puppy. "I'm really sorry. I wish I could, but Diavolo told us we couldn't. And I don't want a repeat of what happened to Belphie. I don't want to see my brothers get hurt again." 
I shake my head. It really is impossible to stay angry at this man, isn't it? "Why is Lucifer avoiding me?" 
Beel sighs. "He's really mad at himself for doing that to you. I think he's afraid that you hate him now. You were so close to-" He cuts off, filling his mouth with food. 
"Close to what?" 
He swallows. "Close to seeing something we never want you to see." He laughs, but there's no humor in the sound. "I don't think you'd like us very much if you knew, and that would make me sad." He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a candy bar. "Here, I know it's your favorite." 
I take it, tearing open the wrapper. Suddenly, my door creaks and I look up to see Mammon shyly sliding into the room. "Do ya got room for one more demon?" 
I reach into the bag and offer him a snack. He gingerly takes it from my fingers, careful not to touch me. He plops down on the floor, his head facing away from me. 
"Did you miss them, too?" Beel asks. 
"What?" Mammon scoffs, shaking his head wildly. "Why would I miss a human? I just thought I should've paid 'em a visit since I knew they'd be missing me!" 
I share a knowing glance with Beel. "It's okay," I say, ruffling Mammon's hair. "I missed you, too." 
"Hashahsaza?" Mammon squeaks as more incomprehensible sounds come out of his mouth. 
I smile, leaning casually against Beel's shoulder. Maybe this house is finally returning back to normal. 
The next day at RAD, I find my way into an empty student council room for my meeting with the rest of the members. I take my seat, pulling out some homework out of my bag to get it done before any of the brothers start pestering me to spend time with them.  
I’m just about to start a reading about the history of the Celestial Realm when I hear a small, polite cough from the other side of the room. I look up to see Lucifer standing stiffly in front of the doorway. 
“Hello,” Lucifer takes a few steps forward and stops, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. “I was hoping I’d find you here.”
I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms expectantly. Lucifer takes another curt step forward so that I’m finally able to see his face clearly. 
His eyes are guarded. “Erm,” he starts, showing a flash of discomfort before immediately hiding it, “I came here to apologize. The way I acted the other day was… unforgivable.” His eyes widen as if hearing the weight of his words. “Despite that, I would encourage you to forgive me.”
“Why?” I ask, just to see him squirm. 
He opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. “If our relationship has changed negatively, I believe that it would make your time as an exchange student here more difficult for you.”
I frown. “Is that your only reason?”
He furrows his eyebrows, the shadow of a smile hinting at his lips. “Ah,” he chuckles. “Fine, I will humor you. I don’t want our relationship to change. I enjoy your company and would be… displeased if you no longer felt comfortable enough to spend time with me.”
I shake my head. “Why do you always have to be so formal?” I sigh, grinning at the demon. “I also like spending time with you. But what you did scared me.” Annoyance bubbles in the back of my mind. “And despite what I saw, everyone is still refusing to tell me what happened, or why it happened.” 
“It’s for your own good.”
“I still have the right to know.”
Lucifer narrows his eyes, and the air around him darkens. “It is your privilege to be here, in the Devildom. You are the first human without the possession of magic to step foot in this realm. We are entitled to keep things from you in order to protect your feeble body and mind.”
Feeble? “Fine. Whatever. I’ll just try to forget everything I saw and pretend that everything is fine in Hell.”
Lucifer takes a step forward. I swallow, my anxiety building as he gets closer. “You know nothing of Hell." He has to force the following words out of his mouth. "Pray that you never do."
I don't bother to continue with the conversation, instead taking out my phone to busy myself with something other than Lucifer. He takes his seat. 
The other demon brothers start filtering into the room, eyes drifting worriedly from me to Lucifer. Asmo, Satan, and Levi are still staying clear of me. When Belphie walks into the room, he rolls his eyes and mutters something about grudges under his breath. 
We all sit in awkward silence until Diavolo rushes into the room, arms full of papers. He sits down across from us, smiling widely. If he notices the tense air, he doesn't say anything about it. 
The meeting is the same as usual; we discuss future school events, budgets, and anything else that needs to be addressed. I don't say much throughout the meeting. People don't mess around as much as they usually do. 
After about an hour or so, Diavolo stands and faces me. "I'm sorry to do this, but I need to have a meeting between just me and your demon housemates. Please return to the House of Lamentation. Solomon is waiting for you outside the school." 
I open my mouth to object, but Diavolo cuts me off before I can do so. "This is a private matter among high demons." 
I'm not going to win this fight. I nod, gather my things, and leave. Solomon waves at me from the front gate, and I suddenly get an idea. 
"What's up, nerd?" He greets. 
I rush over to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Wanna help me spy on the demon brothers?" 
He raises an eyebrow. "I'm interested." He clicks his tongue, an annoyed look on his face. "But I promised Simeon and Luke I'd go out shopping with them, so I can't go with you." 
"That's fine," I say, "I only need a way to track 'em." 
He winks and begins walking towards the direction of Purgatory Hall. "I have the stuff for a tracking potion in my room. I can whip it up real quick." 
I grin at him. "You're the best, Solomon." 
"I know." He laughs as I push him playfully. "What do you need the potion for, anyway?" 
I shrug. "They're keeping things from me." Solomon stares at me, waiting for me to continue. I sigh heavily. "Lucifer tried to attack me the other day. I need to figure out why." 
He nods, suddenly serious. "I don't have to tell you to be careful, right?" 
"I'll be careful." 
He's quiet for the rest of the way to Purgatory Hall. Once we arrive, he sneaks into his room. It's full of well-organized clutter; each shelve is filled with spell books, potions, empty bottles, and ingredients. Solomon picks up a spell book from his bedside table and begins ruffling through it. Once he finds the page he was looking for, he wanders around his room and picks up various items around the room. 
He grinds a few herbs before mixing them together. "Which of the brothers do you want to track?" 
I frown, thinking. "Is there any way for them to know that I'm using magic to track them?" 
Solomon clicks his tongue thoughtfully. "It's rare, but possible if they're on guard." 
"In that case, Beel." 
I almost feel bad for choosing him, but I know he's far too hungry all the time to focus on any other feeling he may get. Also, he's the most trusting of the brothers. 
Solomon reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out a vial. There's a few different items within it, but I can clearly make out a few strands of Beel's orange hair. 
"Solomon," I start, "Do you have DNA from all the brothers?" 
"Yeah," he says indifferently. 
I feel uneasy. "Solomon," I swallow, "Do you have my DNA?" 
He snorts, giving me a quick glance. I suddenly feel very worried. "Why?" 
"You know, just in case." 
I gape at him for a while as he adds the herb and DNA mixture to a vial that's filled with an opaque liquid. Once he begins to mix the potion, it turns into a shimmery gray color. Solomon holds it out to me. "Drink it, and you'll know exactly where to find Beel." 
I take a deep breath, swallowing down the growing trepidation in my throat. I have to know what's going on. I need to understand why Lucifer acted that way, and why the demons are hiding it from me. 
I ignore the voice in the back of my head screaming at me to stop and down the potion in one gulp. Almost immediately, I feel a warmth in my chest. It pulls forward towards a particular direction. 
"Here I go," I say, encouraging myself to move forward. I motion towards Solomon's door. 
He catches my wrist. I turn to look at him. "If it turns out bad, come here. I have a trap in my room so that if anyone besides me comes in without me taking it down, I'll immediately lock them in an invisible forcefield. You won't be able to leave until I get back here, but that also means that no one will be able to touch you." 
I nod gratefully. A few days ago, I would have just thought that getting caught would mean having to deal with one of Lucifer's lectures. Now, I'm not so sure. 
Solomon walks me out of the house, giving my shoulder an encouraging squeeze before closing the door behind me. I concentrate on the tugging feeling in my chest and turn towards the direction it’s pulling me. I get further away from RAD and the House of Lamentation with every step I take.
After about half an hour of walking, I realize that I’ve never been this far away from the center of the Devildom. I’ve always been in the same little bubble since coming to the demon realm, and the realization that I’m walking out of that safe space to investigate the demons causes an icy chill to slice into my back. 
My surroundings change from that of a city to what appears to be a barren wasteland. Houses and shops become more sparse, giving way to fields of black, scorched earth. The moon barely sheds any light on my path, and my pace slows down to an unbearable crawl without the help of streetlights. I can only squint and hope I don’t trip over anything as I follow the warm pull in my chest. 
My calves begin to burn; I narrow my eyes in front of me, realizing with a start that I’m walking uphill. My path becomes more and more steep, rocks tumbling down the earth behind me as the soil is shaken up by my trembling feet. It gets so bad that I have to crawl in order to move forward without falling down. 
The feeling in my chest grows hotter. The air blurs in front of me, swirling gently. I blink at the strange sight. I’ve seen this before, during magic lessons at Solomon’s house. It’s some kind of forcefield, but not the kind that keeps people out. Maybe it’s to keep something hidden?
I push down the rising, primal panic in my gut and crawl forward, instinctively closing my eyes as I pass through the almost imperceivable wall. 
My ears immediately begin to ring with the painful sound of screams. 
I’m kneeling over a cavernous pit that seems to stretch out for eternity. Once I understand what I’m looking at, I immediately lean to the side and empty my stomach onto the scorched earth. I have to cover my mouth to keep myself from wailing. I’m too afraid that the… things in the pit will hear me. 
The pit is set up like a maze, the walls built out of jagged, black rock. Cages are scattered around the cavern, and if I squint hard enough I see small, bony limbs stretched out in a hopeless plea. Dark figures roam the hallways, occasionally letting people out of their confinement and shoving them away from the metal bars. 
The large, dark figures take their hostages and lead them towards pain. I’m lucky that I’m too far away to see exactly what happens to those poor souls, but I can see their bodies contort in pain as they’re tortured. One is pushed into a pool of molten lava, forced to swim to the other side to continue traversing through the maze. When they finally meet the end, their skin sends smoke into the air. 
They all live, no matter what happens to them. Each corner of the maze brings a horrible new punishment, but the broken figures continue to march on. They continue to walk, even if they are dragging their entrails in their wake. And the dark figures not only lead them, but they cause the punishments as well. If I concentrate hard enough, I can hear laughter drift through the pained cries. 
I’m looking into the pits of Hell. 
I cannot move. I must be crying because my vision is blurry, but I can’t feel the tears. The brothers were right. I shouldn’t have asked. I shouldn’t have meddled in business that wasn’t mine. I would have been better off not knowing what they did to resist the temptations of their own sins. 
Time doesn’t exist on this side of the forcefield. I can’t tell how long I kneel at the edge of Hell, biting on my lip until I taste blood so I don’t scream. It feels like days. My body is frozen. All I can do is watch as souls are tortured, put into cages, healed, and then tortured again. 
I am in Hell. And the demon brothers that I once thought were mine are down there, taking delight in the pain of human souls. 
I hear footsteps. They are close, the sound of shifting grass making its way into my thrumming ears. The voices I hear are familiar. They are no longer welcoming. 
Seven figures make their way towards me. Once they see me, they stop. A mixture of surprise, horror, and regret flash upon their contorted faces. I am only able to recognize them by their eyes; the rest of their bodies are far too different, far too monstrous to be recognizable.
I stare at the seven brothers that I’ve lived with for months. I have loved them with all my heart, have felt more at home in their arms than I have in my whole life. And yet, I feel none of that warmth anymore. 
I look at the True Forms of the men I grew to love and can no longer recognize. 
And finally, I allow myself to scream. 
Part 2
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spooky-z · 5 years ago
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In your pack au it says that the Fam know about everything since the pack thought that it would be easier this way instead of having to explain everything later, but what about the other superheros? What would happen if on a mission Damian is captured or hurt and the other heros/JL/Teen Titans members are panicking only to have this group of FERAL animal themed heros bust in to save the day?
Here it is. 1.3k of badass pack!
PACK’S FURY
Warning: blood. Lots of blood and violence. Gore (I think) and Dark.
Blood.
There was blood, a lot of blood.
Damian's blood.
Damian, who was as limp as a rag doll in Bruce's arms after being hit by a bullet.
Weak pulse, unconscious.
Everyone was fighting and she should be doing the same, but the sight of Damian, fragile and broken, was glued to her eyes. Burning like fire soaked in alcohol.
Everything Marinette was capable of feeling; anger running through every part of her body, from the sole of her foot, to the root of her hair. The fear of losing someone she loved. Impotence for not being able to prevent it from happening ...
She was ready.
Ready to finish.
To destroy.
To avenge.
And the pack, like her, wanted blood.
They wanted to hunt, bite, tear, crush, vaporize those responsible for this.
Viperion looked at Ladybug, he was barely able to control himself, wanting permission. A signal. Chat Noir had its claws embedded in the concrete. Queen Bee buzzed like an angry beehive. Ryuko had smoke coming out of her nose. Pegase and Roi Singe had murderous expressions.
They were waiting for the alpha prime command.
And Ladybug was already tired of waiting for Batman's signal.
They were losing.
A green hero - whom she vaguely resembles Damian calling him Garfield - had been knocked out by two villains. The shadowy girl in the cloak was overwhelmed looking after another group while trying to protect him.
Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood and Blue Beetle were trapped and injured by dozens of men.
Star Fire fought and tried to cover Batman, who protected Damian.
Meanwhile, the man who had shot Damian, watched everything as if it were the best comedy film he had ever seen.
"... Leave him to me." She says, her voice clinical and emotionless. “Make them regret hurting what's belongs the pack. I want them to suffer.”
It didn't take much more words for the group to come out of hiding and attack.
Chat Noir's cataclysm vaporized dozens at once; Queen Bee paralyzed everyone she could, while Roi Singe and Pegase destroyed them; Ryuko cremated everyone who dared to get close; Viperion took no care in breaking necks.
They paved the way for alpha prime to reach her goal.
American heroes - and aliens - looked horrified by the bloodbath. The mad eyes. The cruel smiles when blood spilled and the henchman fell dead on the floor.
"My God." Nightwing whispered, incredulous of what he was watching.
Children who were once pure sun and rainbows were now bloodthirsty demons looking for revenge. He felt his stomach churn.
Red Robin believed that it could only be a hallucination induced by some toxin, because it couldn't be real.
Red Hood had sat on the floor, worn out and not at all surprised. He knew what potentialized hatred was capable of doing to even the best of men.
Blue Beetle, Raven and Beast Boy - who had woken up - retreated amid the carnage. That group was an uncertain and unstable group, they didn't know if they could be trusted.
Star Fire was in a defensive position, even though she knew who they were, instinct speaking louder than reason. Her tension grew when one of them, all in green with scales, approached her and Batman.
The whole place froze watching the scene.
He held out his arms to the man, paying no attention to her.
"Give him to me." Demanded.
Batman stepped back as if to hide Robin from the other hero, but the angry whistle and the icy gaze held him in place.
"I said, give him to me." He waved his hands. “You don't want to face the fury of the pack, Batsy. We are not in our best mood right now, so you better cooperate.”
Batman hesitated for a moment, but ended up handing Robin over to the other hero.
"What-" Star Fire murmured confused when Robin was placed on the floor.
The boy did not seem to have heard her as he bent over Robin's body, placing his left hand over the bullet wound in the kevlar.
For a moment, she thought he was mourning over his body, but then his hand began to shine and the glow began to envelop the vigilant’s entire body. The light show didn't last barely five seconds before it went out and Robin stood up in panic, choking on the air.
The chest, where there should have been a bullet hole, now fully healed. No traces of blood.
He looked confused at everyone, before his gaze landed on the scaly hero.
“Viperion? What are you doing here?"
The hero sighed in relief and smiled.
"We came to take what was ours, Ure."
"We...?" And then he noticed the unusual color in the place.
Queen Bee strangling the last henchman on the floor.
"Did you come to Gotham because of me?!" He complained.
Viperion opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted.
"We would go to hell for the pack, my love." Ladybug replied.
She was standing in the center of all the carnage. The red-spattered face and the black gloves of the suit, dripping blood on the concrete floor. At her feet, Harvey Dent – Two-Face - lay dead. The jaw completely broken, the left eye missing and the right arm at an unnatural angle.
Damian's heart raced at the sight.
His angel had become a demon and all he could think about was how he wanted to kiss her breathlessly.
"We have a rule of not killing, Ms. Ladybug." Batman cut Robin's line of thought. "You and your... pack... just killed thirty men without mercy."
The pack made a mocking sound.
Ladybug raised an eyebrow at the man.
"And...?" Her voice was icy. “They took what is mine. They hurt and almost killed him.” The Parisian heroes - except Viperion, who still held Robin - approached her. "No one who hurts the pack, survives to tell a story."
Batman sighed tightly.
"Even so. We don't do that in Gotham.”
Ladybug put a finger to her chin, eyes away; seeming to ponder the man's words before focusing on him again. The face contorted in an animalistic expression.
"So, the next time Robin is sent on a solo mission, keep in mind that if he suffers any serious injury, it will happen again." She smiled bestially. “You're lucky that I'm not around your neck, Batsy. Because that's what I want to do.”
And everyone felt the truth in those words.
She was prepared to burn the whole world if the pack was attacked.
BONUS:
"Bro, Robin's girlfriend is scary like him." Beast Boy whispered to Blue Beetle.
"Her friends too." The bluish hero replied. “And what is this about a pack? Does it have to do with those animal suits?”
They didn't notice the presence behind them, until it was too late.
"You are very curious, huh." Chat Noir put his arms around the shoulders of the two heroes, who jumped in fright. He had a smile that would seem docile, if it weren't for the sharp look. “But I think it's better if you keep that curiosity for yourself. It's just like that proverb: curiosity killed the cat and I'm sure you don't want to die, right?"
Beast Boy and Blue Beetle nodded violently.
Chat Noir smiled even more.
"Great!" He released both of them and clapped his hands, passing them. “It was nice to finally meet the other Ure partners. I hope to be able to fight alongside you again in the future. Have to go now! Bye!" He waved and a portal opened in front of him, swallowing the hero and disappearing.
The american heroes were paralyzed by what had happened.
"I really hope I don't have to meet them again."
"I agree."
I hope I have met your expectations.
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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 4 years ago
Text
come on in, folks, i got some kind of goof ass Beetlejuice/Evil Dead crossover for you to enjoy.
He’s eighteen, and it’s Saturday, which means that he and Lydia are wandering around Manhattan, looking for trouble to get into. Lydia, eleven and ever his little shadow, is standing next to him, as they take a moment, on the busy New York street corner, to sip their boba and think about their next move. They were meant to be watching some horror movie that had looked alright from the previews, but ended up being so stupid, it wasn’t even fun, and the Deetz siblings had found themselves walking out, one hour poorer but a bucket of overly butter saturated movie popcorn richer. “I still can’t believe how bad that was,” Lydia says, again, huffing, because they’d actually paid money to see that stinker, instead of sneaking in, which is their usual habit. “Ya get one big name attached an’ everyone apparently stops givin’ a shit. Musta figured th’ droolin’ masses would eat it up,” he agrees, and he slurps up the last of his tapioca balls, and then proceeds to eat the plastic straw. “Is it too much to ask that characters actually be interesting, and, I don’t know, behave like normal human people?” Lyds bitches, as BJ takes a bite out of his cup, too. She glances up at him, dryly. “I mean, I guess maybe my standards for normality are low, but still.”
He grins at her. “Whatever could you possibly mean, sister dearest?” he puts on a posh, almost transatlantic accent, and she rolls her eyes, and sucks boba up in her straw, then shoots the pearls at him like a pea shooter. He snorts and laughs.
It’s a good day, despite the letdown at the movies. It’s nearly that time of year, just about the start of his seasonal depression, as the sun becomes shy and things go cold and gray. Still, there’s some time left with the sunshine, so he’s drinking it up, savoring it, and it feels good, to stand here with Lyds, and talk about nothing. “Alright, come on, let’s second act it,” he grins, and she perks up. “I think Wicked’s playing!” “Wicked’s always playin’.” “Well, I’m not sitting through Hamilton, it’s a Saturday. I’m not learning if I don’t have to.” “Totally fuckin’ fair. Music Man, maybe?” “Hugh Jackman’s weirdly brick shaped head freaks me out.” “There’s gotta be a show we can sneak into,” BJ frowns, scratching at the scruff of his chin, and then he catches a scent he’s never smelled before, as Lydia puzzles through their remaining options. It’s like death, sort of, but not. Like death warmed over, or death, refried. He takes his sister’s hand, and leads her away from the street corner, following the smell, nose in the air, pupils blown wide, and Lydia laughs. “Great, time to go poke a dead thing. That’s more fun than The Last Four Years, at least.” She’s seen him go like this before, and thinks she knows what to expect.
Neither of them know how to react when they follow the scent down an alleyway and see the violent fight happening in front of them.
Parked at the far end of the alleyway is a car, some 70’s make that he doesn’t know enough about such things to name, and between it, and the Deetz siblings, is an one handed man absolutely going feral on a group of three refried dead smelling zombie… things. “Deadly-vu,” he hears Lydia whisper, as they watch the man perform a scissor kick that sends a zombie head flying. It bounces like a basketball against the brick wall that makes the alleyway, rolls, and lands at the Deetz sibling’s feet. There’s a beat, as they stare at it, and it stares back, before the head on the ground opens its mouth and speaks. “DEMON!” it shrieks, and then it makes the life ending choice to roll at Lydia, teeth bared, and his boot is going through it, crushing through the skull like an overly juicy bug under his heel. He takes a second to wipe the gore from his sole onto the pavement. “Maybe Wicked could be good,” he turns and says to Lydia, who responds by ducking behind him, because the body the head formerly belonged to seems to be stumbling at them, clutching something in it’s boiled and infected and puss covered arms, and it thrusts the thing at BJ, before falling down and collapsing into dust. It’s a book. Some kind of creepy old demon book, from the look of it. He wrinkles his nose in vague disgust, and then takes a sniff. If the zombie things are refried death, this thing is a whole fucking Mexican food buffet of it, and it makes his head spin in a way he’s never felt before. He kind of likes it. He’s about to give the cursed reading material a tentative lick before a boom rings out from in front of them- the one handed man has pulled a sawed off shotgun off his back, and dispatched another corpse thing. There’s one left, and it’s circling the man, who by this point is so blood covered, he looks like he was tricked into being prom queen, or something.
“Is it just me, or do you freaks just keep gettin’ uglier?” the man quips, and the corpse lunges, a stumbling move which earns it the butt of the shotgun to the jaw, which goes flying. The zombie is shot through the gut, and drops, but is a twitching, squirming mess. BJ’s seen enough horror movies to know that thing is getting back up. The stranger has apparently, too. He takes a moment to reload the shotgun, then double taps, blowing clean through the thing’s skull. He blows at the slightly smoking barrels of his sawed off, twirls it, and holsters it, re-slipping it onto his back. It’s a pretty cool move, actually, and the siblings watch in rapt attention. It takes the three remaining people (well, two people, one demon,) in the alley a moment to actually focus on each other, and there’s silence, before the stranger speaks. “Uh,” says the man, covered in blood, and Lydia peaks out from behind BJ, and stares at him, with big eyes. “Kids,” he hears the man mutter. “Great, just what I need, a coupla kids, gettin’ in my way.. Hey, kiddies,” he says, louder, with a smile, which might be really charming when he’s not soaked in rot and blood, but the effect at the moment is not as sincere and friendly as he clearly thinks it is. “Looks like you two little heroes managed to wrangle my book away from those deadites. You wanna do your pal Ash a favor, and hand it over?” He makes a “come here” motion with his stump arm, and then seems to realize that’s not so appealing, because he tucks that appendage behind his back, worried, suddenly, about scaring them. As if a man with a missing hand is the weirdest thing they've seen in the last five minutes.
“What the fuck,” Lydia says, and BJ can’t help but agree with that sentiment. Also, he feels a vague sense of sudden responsibility for this weird old tome. It doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of thing a human should have. Maybe those zombies… deadites? Maybe they were trying to get back what was stolen from them. Though he’s not charitable enough to assume that they’re the good guys in this feud. The stranger, Ash, takes a careful step forward. “It’s alright,” he says, like he’s talking to a wild animal he’s trying to tame, and not a teen and preteen, respectively. “I’m not gonna hurtcha. Just need to get my book back.”
A sudden screeching wind roars down the alleyway, and both living humans react, ducking, as it bellows and swirls around them, kicking up dust and trash and chunks of leftover deadite. “Demon! Aid us!” BJ feels a presence in front of his face, something he can’t see, but a great, ancient something, reaching out to him, demanding, begging, pleading, for him to assist in whatever macabre goal it wants to meet. He responds by sticking his unglamoured tongue out at it. “Ewww, gross. No.”
The thing shrieks again, and makes a beeline for Lydia, which is just about the stupidest thing it could have done, because he drops his glamour fully and snarls, gives the ancient being a psychic push back, and he sends the thing that cannot be seen flying, out of the shady darkness of this alleyway, past what he assumes to be Ash’s car, and out onto the city street, into the sun. It shrieks and moans and curses him. He flips it off, as it dissipates. The vibe in the air, however, tells him it’s not “dead,” just gone.
Ash straightens up and looks at him. BJ’s already slipped his human disguise back on, so the effect is that Ash has just seen what seems to be a slightly too pale and definitely overweight human teen somehow push back an ancient evil, totally unaffected. Now it’s his turn to let out a confused, “What the fuck?”
“Come on, BJ!” Lydia grabs her big brother’s arm and pulls him away, running from the gore and the confused zombie slayer. “Wait, kids-!” Ash rounds the corner, after them, but the Deetz siblings are already gone, disappeared into thin air, flash stepping the span of blocks in the blink of an eye, and they don’t stop until Lydia, sick from the teleportation, gives his hand a squeeze. They appear on a rooftop, confusing and traumatizing some pigeons that had been roosting.
“Wait, why did we run?’ BJ asks, and Lydia looks at him like he’s a moron. “Because that guy was clearly a monster hunter! And kind of really good at it!” she says. He mulls that over, and smiles. “Worried for your big bro?” he bats his eyelashes at her, and she responds by slugging him in the gut, which he reacts the barest amount to. “Last thing I want is to explain to mom and dad how you ended up with a shotgun blast through your skull,” she says, and crosses her arms, before leaning forward, to study the book he’s still holding. “So. What is that?” He grins. “Wanna open it an’ find out?” Read the rest of the first chapter here!
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genaleah · 4 years ago
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ANSWERING WILDCARD QUESTIONS
For the first time in about a year maybe??? Some of these might be even older than that.
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Yes, it is Korka! I definitely want her involved, she’s a wonderful character and there is a *lot* of fun paranormal stuff going on in this setting that she can help them research. Also, I’d just love for her and Nelson to become friends!
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Thank you! I love him a lot, and it’s fun to picture him interacting with the other guys. They’d all make for some interesting uncle figures, but they might not be that great in terms of role models.
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OHOHO. Devilish laugh. That’s a wonderful idea, and a good way to keep him occupied at some point. He’s a great character, but he’s incredibly powerful, and I want these dudes to solve their own problems whenever possible. 
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A good question! I don’t remember most of my dreams, but there’s usually a consistent look to the vivid ones. Lots of water, mountains, creeks, and high, winding roads. There are also a lot of buildings that are closely integrated with nature, even though I have almost never seen construction like that. 
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I had not, but now I have! Here’s a trailer, for anyone else that missed it:
https://youtu.be/33HXHaaagsw
I really like these new models! I’m looking forward to watching a playthrough when that’s available. Just like with Rhombus of Ruin, I don’t think I’ll be able to play this one myself.
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DOUBLE FINE, I WISH TO SPEAK WITH YOU- no, I’m kidding! I think great minds think alike. But I’m really excited to learn more about that character and possibly involve them in this whole au eventually. 
I’ve actually tried to avoid almost any info about Psychonauts 2 so I can go in mostly-blind, and a lot of the characters are vague to me. It’s fun to look forward to, but it’s also a little harrowing because I don’t know how to anticipate for it!
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N...NO..... I NEED TO... Honestly those are old enough that it might be a good idea for me to re-make them, as well as the playing cards I made for the mega playlist cover. I think it’d be nice to remake them as vectors... that might make for a nice art stream sometime. I’ll mention publicly if I start doing that, and sharing any of these conceptual Wildcards arts when they’re done. 
And if you’re just curious about what the tarot cards for the other characters are going to be, it’s this:
Eddie: Judgement, The Magician, The Emperor
Manny: Death, Justice, The World
Sam: The Chariot, The Tower, Strength
Max: The Devil, Wheel of Fortune, Joker
Although! I may actually give the Moon card to Max instead of the Devil, and replace the missing card from Nelson’s selection with the High Priestess?  🤔  I’ll decide when I get to it.
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Could be! I’ve flip-flopped occasionally on if I want the split-a-cab gang to participate much in the story. I think they deserve a break, and splitting an apartment in New York seems like a good situation for the four of them.
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Oh boy, that must be so disorienting for him. The Psychonauts deal with a lot of hippy-dippy weirdness in a seemingly organized way, but it seems like they’re not as paranoid about safety as a real federal organization would be. Not necessarily a good thing, considering one of their camp counselors went AWOL one day, and the head of the Psychonauts got kidnapped the next. They kinda need to get their act together.
Fun fact, in one of the earlier drafts of Chapter 3 I was actually going to make Nelson get scanned by the equivalent of a metal-detector for malevolent thoughts at the door and get really spooked by it, but I decided against it.
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YEAH IT’S ON THE LIST
Honestly, a big bulk of the plot in this just regards characters having to face their mental health struggles... via facing it as literal internal demons, unstable powers, etc.  It’s going to take a little while for any of Eddie’s teammates to realize how MUCH he has going on under the surface because he does a pretty good job of hiding it. “Needing to help others above ever helping themselves” is a hard issue to notice if you’re not looking for it. But it’s a guarantee that once they find out he needs help, they’ll give it; whether that’s making sure he’s not working himself too hard, or fighting off demonic cultists. Care comes in many forms.
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SHE NEEDS TO REST.... POOR SYBIL (on the upside, they don’t TECHNICALLY work there, so she might be fine most of the time.)
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Strong Bad isn’t a Psychonaut! He’s just a vlogger and a petty (psychic) criminal. It’s honestly not very different from canon.
Free Country, USA is a smalltown hotbed of psychic activity. Nearly everyone there has some mild capacity for supernatural powers, but nobody really notices or cares. Strong Bad just pops the tops off of cold ones and.... sometimes alters reality, a tiny bit. But mostly just in regards to media. The cartoons, comics, etc, that he invents and talks about have a tendency to suddenly voip into existence and nobody knows how. I swear, there’s actually a line of him saying something to this effect, but I can’t find it anywhere.  Don’t worry about it! Nobody in town is ever going to do anything truly nefarious with their powers, so it’s not a high priority on the Psychonauts’ radar, just a weird footnote.
The only reason Homestar is an actual agent is because he seems like exactly the kind of guy to sign up for a job like that on accident and then stick with it. And he’s a talented telekinetic! None of his other friends know about his job or notice his absences.
And just for fun, here’s some weird instances of psychic overpowering that happened in the cartoon:
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(Poor Strong Sad)
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I’ve actually answered this one before! BAM  Pretty sure all of it is still accurate.
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Nelson: He sees floating sheets of paper containing notes, questions, etc. Anything that he wants to know more about regarding that person. The notes are subject to edits, cross-outs, ripped pages, etc.
Guybrush: He sees the item that the person is carrying that he wants most. As he gets to know people better, he sees them for their useful skills first.
Manny: His view of most living people is not very kind...
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The people he’s closest to will eventually look a lot less garish. More like a flattering, camera-ready versions of themselves.
Eddie: Sickass sketch drawings that look like they belong in the margins of a composition book. The illustrations improve as he gets a better picture of where they’d fit in the internal lore of his mental world.
Sam: A lot like Nelson; Sam pictures case files, though his are a bit more in-depth.
Max: Max’s visions of people are highly personal and uncomfortable for those who witness them. He sees Nelson as a puzzle with a piece missing. Guybrush is a ripped up voodoo doll. Manny is a forgotten ofrenda. Eddie is a powder keg with a long, lit fuse. Sam is Sam, but he’s the wrong one.
I also got two questions that were pretty big subjects, or that I didn’t want to repeat, so I’m gonna cover them pretty broadly:
REGARDING [X] CHARACTER OR SERIES INCLUDED IN THE AU
Sure, I support it! I’ve gotten this question a few times in regards to things that I haven’t had time to delve into yet, or I’m not interested in, so I’m not going to include it into the AU myself. But if you want to explore an idea like that, feel free! This AU is pretty dang collaborative.
My main focus is just on the main 6 properties: Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max.
But my general rule of thumb for “characters that exist somewhere within the background of this story” are any other properties owned by Telltale, Lucasarts, or Double Fine. And considering all of the licensed games that Telltale was getting into before it kicked the bucket, that includes some really weird characters, even up to the Venture Bros. I loved that series, but I’m not really interested in doing anything with them for this story! Partly for my sanity, the canon I’ve picked are already a lot of content to play with. 
ASSORTED QUESTIONS ABOUT THE WILDCARD AU DISCORD
There’s no particular criteria needed to join the discord, and it’s not strictly on a need-to-know basis! Because it’s been a long while since anyone has joined, I've been hesitant about adding new people in... But I‘ve decided to try sending invitations again! Everyone who had asked about it in the past will be getting a ping by me in about a day or so, since I want to double-check if you’re still interested. If you’ve been nervous to ask you can reply to this post or message me privately.
Some things to keep in mind before asking or accepting the invite:
If you’re not a friend or a follower I recognize, I will likely double-check your tumblr along with some other current members before sending the invite. 
Here’s the Rules page, so you know what to expect before you join: 
Be Mindful - Respect other people's boundaries, don't do or say things that would cross the line. If your behavior makes other people feel uncomfortable or unsafe, I will remove you from the chat. In most cases I will try to resolve things with you and offer a chance to do better, but that will depend on the severity of the situation. And if you have any concerns regarding another member of the chat, you can contact me privately.
Health Boundaries - While discussions of mental health do occasionally pop up, do not rely on the chat for help. None of us are equipped to handle serious mental health concerns, and it will only cause distress for everyone. Please seek real help if it is needed! If you rely on people beyond the point that they have asked you to stop, I will remove you from the chat.
NSFW - Generally speaking, try to keep NSFW talk to a minimum. Swearing and humor is fine, but don't get too explicit please! Discussions should usually keep to a PG-13 / occasional R, but no NC-17.
Spoilers & Censorship - Please use the spoiler function to hide story spoilers, as well as discussions and graphic depictions of gore/excessive blood/body horror/severe psychological horror. Include a content warning so that people know what they could potentially be seeing when they click on the censored content. If the spoilered content is the subject of a back-and-forth discussion, please use another warning when you are switching to a different spoilered topic. (Note that these rules were added to the chat later, so be careful when using the search function or back reading.)
The canon series involved with the Wildcard AU are Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max. Please be mindful of story spoilers!
Channel Organization - Also be mindful of which channel you're in and move a discussion over if need be! That way they don't get too clogged with unrelated info.
Creative Criticism - When it comes to writing, art, or character creation; try to be open to suggestions from others! Nearly all of the creative work in the chat is collaborative, so input from others is important! Creative criticism is not the same as judgement, and is not a personal attack.
Have fun! - Discussions move quickly in this chat! Don't feel bad if you ever need to step back, whether it's because of the speed or a disinterest in whatever current topic we're focusing on. If you ever want to come back, we're happy to have you and can give quick explanations if you feel out of the loop! :thumbsup:
We’re a group of approx. a half dozen to a dozen people, either posting very very quickly in a span of a few hours or barely anything for a few days. We’ve been in an activity uptick lately and there’s about a year and half of back content, too. If it’s hard to keep up on, not that interesting to read through, or you just have a hard time gelling with the group that's already there, there’s no shame in just lurking or dipping out if you need to.
We also talk a lot about Psychonauts OCs, so anticipate that.
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ambassadorquark · 4 years ago
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here’s a long post about a bunch of webcomics i love and recommend. i’ve certainly read & liked other ones and have just lost track of them somehow but these are like, mostly classics that basically anyone who reads newer webcomics will recommend to you and a couple i’ve found more recently that i loved. tried to limit it to FAVES that update pretty regularly or are already completed so you can get quality stories out of it but it still ended up mammoth so uh, it’s goin’ under a readmore
namesake - super long-running comic with beautiful art, consistent and frighteningly frequent updates, made by Webcomics Pros. it’s about people who have the ability to enter the worlds of essentially any fairy tales in which the protagonists happen to share their name, and the lore only gets more intricate from there. this one is a very engaging archive binge as it’s been running for about a million years
gunnerkrigg court - honestly if you’re not already reading gunnerkrigg court i'd be very surprised since this is another one that’s been going easily since the invention of webcomics (not really, but THAT ARCHIVE!). i don’t know how to summarize it beyond saying it STARTS as a story about a girl attending a quirky boarding school and is now kind of a sweeping epic about the intersection of technology, nature, and divinity. there’s time travel or something in there now?! you will love renardine. i love renardine
paranatural - another one i’m sure you’re already reading and if not, WHY? it’s a fun li’l action-comedy about middle schoolers fighting ghosts with the help of other ghosts. has been running for a good while and gone through some weird changes but is also probably one of the funniest serial comics i’ve ever read
he is a good boy - a super weird, cerebral, since-finished comic by online comics vet KC Green, about a little acorn finally leaving the tree he grew on after it dies. this one has more “adult” content than any of the previous ones, but if you can handle some cartoony gore and obscenity it’s really funny, strange, and worth checking out
anything by evan dahm tbh - these come recommended by absolutely anyone with taste because evan dahm makes beautiful fantasy comics. rice boy and order of tales are both completed and have a bizarre, super-unique setting and bittersweet approach to these delicate, human stories (despite having no actual human characters). vattu is still currently running and is a slightly more grounded fantasy comic about a little girl from a nomadic hunter-gatherer culture getting caught up in the machinery of the empire that’s moving in on the land where she was born. cannot recommend these enough TBH
also anything on johnny wander - this site contains a bunch of comics by a couple of married comics pros; a big backlog of their really funny, charming autobio comics, the entirety of their graphic novel lucky penny, a whole bunch of shorter comics you might have seen around, and also their new, longer-form webcomic barbarous, which is about a wizard school dropout who’s appointed as a super at an apartment building full of weird magical folks. recommended because there’s a lot of quality stuff in there for you
the sword interval - on webtoon, completed. legit my favorite thing i’ve read in a hot minute. modern fantasy about a young woman who tracks down a legendary, but retired monster hunter for help on her quest to find and kill the lich-like being who killed her parents. gorgeous art, super awesome monster designs, twists on twists, characters you will never want anything bad to happen to ever. reggie the golem.
widdershins - a pretty well established comic i only just read recently. a series of connected stories following different characters from a big ensemble cast and their various adventures in a magical town in victorian west yorkshire. full of fun old-timey shit and wizards. i read it obsessively in like a day. super funny, super long archive. extremely endearing characters who you also will never want anything bad to happen to.
the last halloween - abby howard is a godly horror artist who’s been doing this comic since her style and sense of humor were almost completely different, but the story really does grow as it goes and is both very spooky and very funny. book one is about a little girl facing the potential extinction of humanity after the spontaneous appearance of billions of monsters. it’s currently in book 2, which is a direct sequel about different characters that actually updates sporadically at the moment because the artist is making other cool stuff. definitely still worth it though. gets intense as hell
string theory - this one got back into regular updates pretty recently! i’m linking the about page, not the homepage, because this one is about nasty people doing nasty things and there’s a few CWs that the author mentions right in the summary. it’s an alternate history sci-fi set in a near future where the USA was devastated by nuclear weapons after the cuban missile crisis but is mostly a character driven story about a jerkhole scientist having a terrible couple years. i can’t explain this one at all. if you like terrible men as much as i do you’ll probably enjoy it
tiger, tiger - a beautifully drawn maritime fantasy about a young noblewoman who impersonates her sea captain brother in order to launch an expedition to study sea sponges. there is a sexy nonbinary sea monster character if that sweetens the pot for you any. awesome, subtly integrated worldbuilding. super funny and charming. i love this one a whole bunch
bybloemen - i’m not just recommending this because i’m vague internet acquaintances with the author, it’s ALSO an extremely one-of-a-kind comic about the dutch tulip mania, and also demons. the art is gorgeous and the character designs are some of my favorites out there in newer webcomics. just kind of an extremely good concept that i think everyone should check out. and it’s funny, duh
mare internum - completed. an extremely affecting sci-fi set on Mars. you really just have to read this one, honestly. i’m also linking to the about page on this one because it contains CWs to keep in mind; it’s an incredibly well-constructed character study of some flawed, complicated people and also awesome if you like space aliens.
ozzie the vampire - another supernatural action-comedy because i know what i like, about a recently turned vampire girl and her best friend defending their small new jersey town from demons. super funny, super exciting, and really grounded and realistic for a story that’s about a vampire punching demons. the artist is also a superhuman wizard who draws a whole other comic, a shounen inspired action story called station square that you should check out if you end up liking ozzie.
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walker-journal · 4 years ago
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Legend of the Vermilion Bird (Adam +Leah)
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Characters: Leah Ramirez (Phoenix- Julie), Adam Walker (Hunter-Tapir)
Location: Just outside the Vural Property
Timing: Shortly before the events of And From the Ashes
Summary: After killing a Torple, Adam consults a wary Leah about the nature of phoenixes 
Content Warning: Woerm gore
The forest road was alive with the subtle rustling and animal calls of spring as Adam skinned a large Torple that’d shuffled onto the Vural’s property, instinctually drawn by the taste of spellcraft that practically saturated the area. The Hunter supposed such predators were a hazard of having so much mojo concentrated in one place. Being a muggle himself, Adam wasn’t in much danger from these lumbering magic-eating worms, but the Hunter felt it behooved him to quietly take care of threats to his significant other’s family. 
The Torple looked like the big-mouthed lovechild of a naked mole-rat and an earthworm with massive human teeth. Even seated on a hefty moss-covered rock, Adam was barely taller than the corpulent segmented creature. It’s webbed limbs were spindly in comparison to its body while its enormous yet unsettlingly humanoid mouth made it a wonder the Torple could move at all. It jaws were immovable once latched on, but it was the thick glistening layer of magic negating mucus covering the magivore that made Adam preemptively take a machete to it outside the boundary of his hostesses’ wards, lest its mere presence unravel them. 
Adam worked a curved ulu knife down the dead Torples’ sides, scraping the anti-magic slime off with the skinning blade and scooping it into nearby barrels. He vaguely felt Leah’s approach before he heard her footsteps, the icy-heat of her paranormal presence growing stronger as she approached. Once he caught sight of the familiar face, the Hunter took his hand  off the handle of a hidden blade and got back to scraping Torple slime. 
“Hey Library Warrior, could I have a minute? I need to ask you about something.” 
Having Bea back in town felt like relief.  When she died, Leah had been so caught off guard that she was always waiting for the other shoe to drop now that she was back to life.  At any given moment, she expected another phone call from Nell or Felix or anyone telling her that it happened again, that there was no way to fix it this time.  And New York felt so tauntingly far away, especially to someone who had barely ever left White Crest.  And so the news that her best friend was coming back to town made the tension ease from her neck- had she been holding her shoulders that tight the whole time she’d been away?
Maybe she had been spending too much time at the Vural Sister’s house that weekend (to be fair, one-third of the sister trio would have said any time Leah spent there was too much, but that’s besides the point), but for the tension to truly escape her, she need some real, tangible time with her friend. 
While Bea was busy inside cooking, Leah chose to explore the property outside, eager to soak up some sun and enjoy the chill of winter finally breaking.  She grimaced when she happened upon Adam, and watched him with an unamused expression.  It was kind of easy to ignore that he was a hunter, most of the time, but not when he was slicing something up right in front of her.  She let out a breath when he called out to her, sitting on her hip.
“What’s up?”, she asked.  She was sure he was just curious about a book, or something- maybe he lost his copy of Green Eggs and Ham.
“What is that there?” she asked, gesturing to the creature he was scraping.  Damn her and her innate curiosity and thirst for knowledge.
“I need to ask you about Phoenixs,” Adam replied with the blunt directness that frequently came when one was focused on multiple tasks at once. “There is a fire chicken that’s gone supernova in a valley. Luce is like...a fire scientist but she isn’t sure what would make em go..” Adam made a sound in his throat evocative of an explosion. I was wondering if you’d heard of anything like that,” the Hunter asked of the Not-Spriggan. 
Adam patted the enormous human-mouthed earthworm with a gloved hand as he scrapped more slime from the corpse into a bucket. “This is a Torple, they hunt people who do magic,” Adam supplied. “The Vural place is kinna a beacon with the Hogwarts stuff going on.” 
Leah felt her eyebrows furrow at Adam’s statement- both at the boldness with which he said it, and the statement itself.  She felt heat rise to her cheeks- did he know about her?  Was the knife he held over the creature actually intended for her- her tears or information or life? But no, Nell wouldn’t let that happen, right?  Nell would have at least warned her if he found out.   She felt herself visibly relax when he explained more, swallowing before she responded.  “Luce told me about this, but… what makes you think I know anything about phoenixes?”, she asked, trying to remain stoic and unblinking.  “They’re just about the rarest known creatures- information is pretty rare on them.”  The last time they spoke on the subject, Adam himself had thought phoenixes only ever spent time in their firestate, which was laughable, at best.  “You want to explode them?  I don’t think Luce is down with that idea. And neither am I, if you’re taking my help.  You need to find a way to cure them, not kill them.”  Killing the corrupted phoenix would be very, very easy.  Adam could take notes from Dorothy and the Wicked Witch of the West, if he wanted to be cruel like hunters tended to be.  
She pressed her lips together, unable to look at the slaughtered earthworm for too long.  Torples.  She’d heard of them, but not a ton.  She’d have to see if they had anything written up on them when she went home later tonight.  “Well- it’s good that you got it, then”, she said with an awkward nod, glancing at the bucket.  “Is the slime useful, or something?”
“Because you’re like... a supernatural librarian lady,” Adam pointed out as if this somehow gave Leah some form of nerd-omniscience. “I figured that you’d be a person to ask about something that rare y’know?”
Leah seemed to misinterpreted his amazing sound effects. “Hey hey hey,” Adam exclaimed with a note of petulance, holding up his slimy free hand in a staying gesture. “Look, that Phoenix was already exploding when we found it ok,” he asserted with boyish pique. “What I mean is that I was wondering if you knew how we could switch them into I dunno... unexplode mode, like a song, some herbs they like, an off button, we’ll take anything.” 
Adam went back to driving his blade into the annelid’s side, exposing the yellowish nerve cords beneath its ridged skin. “It interferes with magic,” he explained. “Honestly, because of how many damn Chickcharneys there are around here, I end up dunking alotta people in this slime to try and bounce the Chickcharney curse off them.” Adam chose not to mention the part where he’d erased a wizards wards with this slime and accidentally become an accessory to murder. 
Leah let out a slow breath, watching Adam carefully.  He wasn’t… wrong.  But what were the ethical implications involved with helping a hunter learn about one of the rarest, most vulnerable species that existed? 
What were they if she let someone like Adam try to figure it out on his own?
She rolled her eyes at his defense, but held her hands up in apology.  “Sorry- I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”  Even though it was so hard not to with a hunter. She walked closer to him as she continued.  “I told Luce that I have an idea of how the phoenix got so out of control, but up until now, I thought it was only a myth.”  She paused- could she really trust him?  When she thought about it, she wasn’t sure, but maybe it didn’t matter.  What difference would it make if Luce and Adam were working together in this?  One way or another, Adam was going to find out.  Better it be out of the horse’s mouth.  
“We call them corrupted- it means that their ashes were on corrupted ground when they were reborn.  Sometimes the corruption happens right away, and other times the phoenix could be well into adulthood, with a life and a family before it happens.  There are no warning signs, either.   I don’t… I still haven’t found a cure in my research, but…”  She took a deep breath before continuing, and her next words came out faster than she intended.  “If this phoenix doesn’t survive…whatever you end up doing... the best way to help them in the next life is to keep their ashes somewhere safe and sacred.”
At that imagery, Leah couldn’t help but crack a smile.  “Are you telling me you make a habit out of performing Torple Slime Baptisms, so to speak?”
The palpable feelings of otherness intensified as Leah got closer, there’d been a time when Adam would have immediately gone into fight or flight mode when his Hunter senses reacted. But in White Crest he’d had to acclimate. That conditioning was an asset when hunting alghoul out in the sticks, but here it could end up him going all kill-zone on a librarian. 
Adam paused his gory worm skinning and listened to Leah as she spoke. He noticed the use of the word ‘we’ but kept silent and impassive during the explanation. It turned out that Luce had already tapped Leah on this matter, which was unsurprising. But while he’d hadn’t doubted that she was knowledgeable, Adam’d already suspected that Ramirez wasn’t your average bibliophile, but she knew even legends of the legend. 
“We ….as in the Maine librarian’s union?”  Adam’s question was playfully phrased. There were many species, secret societies, and so on that did not appreciate their ways being pried into, and Adam didn’t want to start shit with the one person who seemed to have solid intel on Chernobyl phoenix. 
“I would rather they survive,” Adam assured. “At the end of the day I’ll do what it takes to protect civilians, but from what you’ve said it sounds like this is some demon radiation juju that they didn’t have any say in.” 
Adam inhaled. “But, if it does come to that, has your research given you any idea of a holy place that’d work for keeping the ashes safe? Maybe some place sacred to uh...I don’t know if Phoenixes worship any gods,” he admitted. “But maybe somewhere that means alot to their culture?”
The unexpected jocularity of the question, from Leah especially, took Adam openly off-guard, teasing a sheepish smile from him. “Uh yeah actually,” he admitted while scrapping some more slime off the giant mage-eater worm into a bucket. “It’s not glamorous and the clients always hate it, but the Torple-dunkage sometimes works for really minor stuff like that.”
Leah blanched, blinking at Adam’s question.  Had she been so careless to say we?  “I uh… we as in, me.  Of course. Me,us.  And the other people who are interested in supernatural history.”  She swallowed, unsure if Adam were picking up on her status as a phoenix or her status as a scribe.  Possibly both, right?  This close, he had to be having those creepy senses that she wasn’t as human as she appeared.  Either way, it was bad news.  
“I’d rather that too, but I don’t think it’s unrealistic to prepare for the worst, either.” Something Adam said struck a chord in Leah, and she couldn’t stop herself before she commented.  “I mean, that’s true of most supernatural creatures though, isn’t it?  Born or bitten, werewolves, zombies, and vampires didn’t have a say in.  Do you grant them the same courtesy when they’re out of control?”
“I know a few places that could work”, she said, crossing her arms over her chest.  Whether she would tell Adam unless he absolutely needed them- that was another story.  “Not necessarily a culture to be had per say.  Because of their rarity and ability to blend in, it’s not often a phoenix ever meets another like them in their lifetime.”  She and her family were so incredibly lucky to have each other to love; to grow and learn from when they were the most vulnerable.  “I...know a family that would take care of the baby once they’re reborn, too, so-... if it comes to that, it’ll be all covered.”   
Leah let herself get a good look at the creature, taking as many mental notes as she could to write down later.  Sometimes Adam wasn’t as bad as he seemed.  “I think most people would be pissed if you dunked them into a baby pool of slime and sludge.  I certainly would.”
“It depends,” Adam answered without any attempt at dissemblance. “Gotta measure their life against the lives of those they’d kill when outta control,” the Hunter continued as he got down from the rock he’d been perched on to move his flaying blade to the Torple’s lower portion. “Most humans just get ripped in half if they meet a vamp that's gone all hunger frenzy, but I was born strong enough to match them,” he reasoned. “In the ideal scenario I wrestle the vamp or whatever off the civilian and get them to snap out of it.” 
Adam took the long strip of worm skin over to a tree and slung it over one of the branches to dry in the sunshine. “But uh, reality doesn’t give ideal scenarios most of the time y’know? Sometimes you have to make a split-second judgement or alotta people die,” the Hunter admitted. “ But yeah, I guess the best answer I can give you is that I try.” 
“That uh...sounds pretty lonely, being all human torchy and not having anything to relate to what the hell is going on,” Adam admitted, as he walked back to the Torple corpse. “Do you do the supernatural foster care stuff alot Leah?” 
Adam rolled his eyes amiably at the resistance to necessary alien-worm slime dunking. “Hey  Chick-a-Curses are worse though. Like all of their hexes are bad, but the one your head twists backwards...gah!  I either have to bribe a witch to visit their hospital room and decurse them, or I have to sneak in and pour worm slime over some poor bastard in a hospital bed and hope it works.” 
“Most vamps get stabbed if they meet an egotistical hunter”, Leah countered immediately.  “I appreciate your attempt to be civil in the way you handle things, but I don’t find the same to be true for most hunters.”  She couldn’t help but get into these debates with the hunters in her life, and if she were being honest, she didn’t really tire of them, either.
“It’s not all bad.  I know you assumed at first that they’re literal chickens, but like I said- phoenixes spend most of their time looking like humans.  And while a lot of them end up growing up not knowing what they are until they sneeze some smoke or look for a reason feathers are popping out of their foreheads, they’re not lost for companionship.  I’ve even heard tell of families who are able to stay together throughout their cyclical lives, raising each other generation after generation.  This is incredibly rare, of course.”
She blanched at Adam’s next question, opening her mouth and closing it.  She thought of the golden goose egg, still safely incubating in her basement, surely ready to hatch at any moment.  “I… how did you know I meant myself?”
Leah couldn’t help but laugh at his anecdotes, no matter how much she wanted to disavow them for being those of a hunter.  “That doesn’t sound like a fun way to wake up- are witches so untrustworthy of you that they don’t trust that your slime is for good?”
Adam rolled his eyes with a smirk. “Y’know, if I made the same argument in reverse about ‘most vamps’ being violent and evil you’d call me out for generalizing and being a bigot Ramirez,” he pointed out. 
Adam decided not to point out the fact that statistically the deaths on humans at the hands of vampires were uncountable orders of magnitude greater than vampires dying to Hunters. But frankly, it was pretty fucking obvious that Leah considered one supernatural life precious, but human lives were just numbers to her, devoid of emotional significance unless she knew them personally. 
It’s pointless to argue with people like that. 
“You don’t know ‘most Hunters’ Leah, not even close,” Adam pointed out bluntly, “Look Ramirez you hate people like me for reasons that are obviously personal. I’m fine with that.” the footballer said with a shrug of his broad shoulders, as if he felt this truce of hate sufficient. “It’s chill. 
Despite the slip into harsh words, Adam continued to listen patiently to the talk of phoenixes, families, and cycles of rebirth. It was all pretty surreal honestly. What would it be like to be with his family across a thousand lives over and over?
He wouldn’t know. Adam had grown up being raised with the knowledge that every moment with his family was precious, that he needed to learn how to survive on his own before they fell one by one in the line of duty. 
Adam hacked into the Torple with an unnecessary force as his chest constricted. 
“Do they line...remember each other each rebirth? Or are they all new different people each time?”
Leah’s unexpected motion of surprise caused Adam’s attention to flick to her instinctively, but her following question dispelled the moment of tenseness. “I didn’t,” he admitted. “I more meant that you seemed to already have homes in mind as if you were a supernatural social worker or somethin.” 
“You….really down to be a fire mom Leah?”
Adam considered Leah’s question for a moment. “I think that magic, like all resources, should be used for the betterment of society,” Adam said, hinting at a certain level of utopianism behind the memes and crass commentary. “But I can’t force everyone to think that way. If I’m going to bug a busy sorceress to leave her research to cure some rando she doesn’t know, I need to be able to pay her. Just how it is.’ 
Leah rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.  Adam was ignoring the fact that the violence that came from vampires was out of their control, and many of the deaths that came from them were for a need to survive.  Hunters, however, had plenty of control over what they did, and though there were a few gentle ones like Adam or Kaden, most would do what they did for sport, if given the chance.
“Neither do you”, she shot back.  And he’d never had to fear them, either.  She’d read countless stories about the atrocities they’d committed, and so excuse her if she didn’t trust a hunter as far as she could through them.
Again, his questions about phoenixes gave her pause.  Was this information relevant?  “It depends”, she explained.  “Not always concrete memories that you or I might have from last week or last year, but it’s more like… glimpses or feelings.  Sometimes even that doesn’t pop up right away, either.  Most phoenixes end up with a touchstone through most of their lives to help them connect.”  The touchstones didn’t always work.  She felt an invisible buzzing pull from the stone around her neck, taunting and teasing.  
She blanched at his elaboration, embarrassed that she’d assumed so quickly.  She didn’t hate the idea of that type of job, if she were being honest- supernatural social work sounded extremely fulfilling.  “Maybe I am on the side”, she teased.
“If it came down to it, yes.  But even if I couldn’t, there are arrangements I could make, if I’m being completely transparent.  Do you think you’d do the same thing, if you needed to?”
“I agree- but sometimes an idea like that is hard, because the idea of a better society can be so subjective and even divisive, you know?  What you and I think might be wonderful isn’t going to be the same as Joe who works at Excalibur.”  It was true,  Excalibur Joe had told her more than once that he thought the world would be better off without traffic lights.  “That’s not to say I don’t think betterment can happen- it’s just that the hard part is figuring out exactly what that betterment is for everyone.”
“You're right,” Adam allowed with the rueful triumph of someone who felt pain after a headbutt but took satisfaction in his opponent getting the worst of it. 
“Hmmm that sucks,” Adam mused as Leah explained firebird memories. “Guess that’s why we haven’t just solved all history questions with a few Phoenix interviews,” he reasoned.
Adam was quiet for a time as he flayed off more worm skin and yellow cutaneous tissues. “Maybe that’s better though,” he admitted after a while. “Dealing with one lifetime of going through shit is hard enough to deal with,” said the young man who trained and exercised himself to exhaustion in order to sleep. “Having to remember like other lives of horrible crap too? Don't think I could deal with it, i’d completely lose it.” 
Well ok, lose it sooner than most Hunters, Adam admitted to himself, knowing that after a time the human brain can only see so much before you start to break inside. 
“I think you’d do good at it,” Adam noted, meeting Leah’s joke with earnestness. “A foster advocate for kids i mean.” 
“Mhm. My parents adopted Hunters who were orphaned or whatnot, and I’d do the same,” Adam explained, to the question of whether he’d adopt as if there were only one answer. “Whether I take in kids or am a father, I’ll teach em how to survive,” said the Hunter, something in his tone suggesting this grim promise was the purest expression of parental love. 
“People are never going to agree on betterment,” asserted the young man born into a world of war with a shrug. “We just gotta decide what parts of our ideal world we have to get by force,”  and when talking things out is better,” said Adam. 
Leah had her mouth open, ready and willing to argue more, when Adam said that she was right.  She closed her mouth, sending him a resolute nod.  She sure was.   If only it were this easy to convince Kaden.
“Maybe, but I think it’s more the fact that they’re so rare.  Knowledge about them might even be scarce on purpose, in order to protect them.”  Did Adam know about the healing tears? Would he understand why they needed protection?  “Perhaps every life doesn’t have to be horrible, though.  It must be torture to know you’ve lived, say… three or four lifetimes before but have no idea about everything you learned throughout them”.
She smiled sheepishly at his compliment, pressing her lips together in earnest.  “Thank you”, she started.  “It means a lot.”
Adam raising children into more hunters was decidedly not what Leah was talking about, but his comments about his parents intrigued her.  “You had a lot of adopted siblings growing up, then?”  She didn’t want to delve into what he might have meant by ‘teach them how to survive’.
“I guess I just wonder who gets to decide”, she mused, turning back toward the house as she heard her name called in the distance. “My ideal would be to not have to do it by force, but I suppose that’s why Luce insists I’m an optimist.” She let out a breath, pressing her lips together in a smile.  “Did you have any other questions… about phoenixes?”
Adam nodded. “I mean I have alot of family in general like siblings, cousins, so on. As a kid it didn’t make much difference which ones had my blood or not. Some little Hunters were adopted fully, others just came to live with us and be trained for a few years,” the Hunter shrugged, indicating perhaps that his household had been a lively place full of both laughter and endless preparations for war. 
“That’s always the trick huh,” Adam affirmed with a grimace. “With Democracy you just get mob rule and decisions made without long term planning. With some elite body you get corruption and unaccountability,” the frat boy noted with a salience his professors would never hear him express in class. “I don’t think anybody’s solved that question yet.” 
Adam glanced toward the house and looked back to Leah, brown eyes intent for a time, hands dripping with the slime and blood of the massive witcheater. 
“Thanks Ramirez, I think I have what I need,” said the Hunter with the soft finality of someone who’d just come to a decision. “....sorry for keeping ya,” 
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wincore · 4 years ago
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AGREEEE, WORKING OVER THE WEEKEND IS THE WORST esp since im in uni full time and i work 9-5 on the weekends which means... no breaks for me ever.. 🥲
MASSIVE CRUSH ON OIKAWA OMGGG I SUPPORT THIS!!!!! but i am unfortunately much older than 15 and still enamored by 2d men 😔 life’s rough like that HDJWKDJ YES ATSUMU CAUSES PROBLEMS ON PURPOSE.. HES THE WORST!! btw.. ive heard that the oikawa to atsumu stan pipeline is very real... so if u get to s4.. u may develop atsumu brain rot like me 👁_👁
OOO alright run on, extracurricular, vincenzo, true beauty, love alarm, & perfect crime. NOTED!! ive actually been meaning to watch extracurricular for a while now, it looks so interesting!! now that it has the wincore seal of approval i must watch 😤 OMGG SAKURADA DORI I SAW HIM IN ALICE IN BORDERLAND!! super good show but really gore heavy at some points 👁
ahh ok thank u for the reccs, ive been thinking about starting demon slayer too!! shoplifters sounds really interesting :oo crime??? i havent watched a full movie in a while so i will def check it out!! THESE R ALL GOING IN MY NOTES APP.
NEXT YEARRR omg it sounds far away but i know time passes so quickly nowadays so I WILL WISH U LUCK ONCE AGAIN 💛 i hope u update us when the time comes!!
UGHWHHD EVEN THIS SYNOPSIS IS MAKING ME MISS UR WRITING?!? I LOVE THE WAY U WORD IT... “given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear” AHHHHHHH omg “he’s in a relationship and doesn’t rlly care about the soulmate system” THIS IS ALWAYS SUCH A PAINFUL SCENARIO IN SOULMATE AUS PLSS!!! Wait is the soulmate of yn gonna be an oc/vague character or another member :O EITHER WAY... PAIN! THIS IS GETTING ME SO EXCITED AND U HAVENT EVEN MENTIONED ANYTHING ABOUT WHAT JAEHYUN’S LIKE IN THIS FIC YET
RUNWAY CHARACTER CAMEOOOS YESS I LOVE RUNWAY YN!!!! i actually reread it last night and ugh i was reminded how much i love yns personality... just the process of experiencing all tht self doubt with them!!! so real & makes u root for them :’)
“if jeno plays edward i need him to that apple scene like taemin did” WHHHHHWJDJJWJDBW THIS MADE ME CHOKE ON THE WATER I WAS DRINKING LMFAO
GODDDD THESE TROPE/MEMBER PAIRINGS, HARD AGREE HARD AGREE!!! HAECHAN AND RENJUN ARE E2L 100%!!!! i think bc the ppl in the bff2l category cant convincingly hate yn back LOL
“gets complimented on his lyricism often but like every song’s about you” STOPPPPP HES SO PERFDCT FOR THIS TROPE!!!!!
OMG I SEE EXACTLY WHAT U MEAN ABT SICHENG IN ROYALTY/CHAEBOL AUS... i think like u said it’s because of his poise & the way ppl are generally in awe of him but also bc of his reluctance to open up!! more reserved until he trusts u... funny and kind but sometimes perceived as aloof... those r some prince tendencies! “what are corporate businesses but modern day kingdoms” LMFAOOWJDJ SERIOUSLY THO
“mans really said i will not give you any onscreen idol personality to work with” HDJWJDJWJSJ LITERALLYYYY this is why i have trouble reading jaehyun fics sometimes bc sometimes they can feel “inaccurate” but its mostly just bc there’s no Standard Personality Stereotype to go off of. but a random & uncommon trope i think he’d pair well with is exes to lovers!! Yes im basically just a jaehyun + angst advocate.
“i think most of them would pair well with bff2l??” FACTTTTTTT and no im not just saying this bc its one of my favorite tropes.. heh... i think i told u this before?? but ur like the main reason i started enjoying e2l!!! i didnt like it before bc i love the PINING in bff2l but then i started reading ur works n was like OH SHIT! THERES LOADS OF PINING HERE TOO...
i think yangyang is not bff2l or e2l, he is in his own category which is Annoyer2Lover HDJWKDJ ex: troublemaker, wasted nights
OMGGGG I DID NOT EXPECT ROYALTY AU TO HAVE SUCH A LARGE LEAD IN THE SURVEY??? and cryptids is so low 😔😔 cmon guys, vampires r fun!!!
WE R LITERALLY WRITING ESSAYS TO EACH OTHER RN BUT I LOVE IT 🥺🥺 its a such a nice break to read ur response when im burnt out from studying!!
OMG IM GOING THROUGH #moonwrites AND IM LITERALLY AN IDIOTTTT IVE BEEN OFF TUMBLR FOR SO LONG I DIDNT REALIZE THAT ROMEO ROULETTE HAD A PREVIEW OUT????
“And I get what out of this?” “Me?” IM IN LOVE WITH THIS CHARACTERS PERSONALITY ALREADY LMFAOO
“—and when this whole game you’re playing is over, you’re going to say I rejected you.” ?!?!???? THE WAY JAEHYUN IS A LITTLE SHIT! THEIR PERSONALITIES ARE BOTH SO FUN PLSJWJDJEJ IM MORE EXCITED NOW!!
pls disregard the part in my last ask where i asked abt romeo roulette.... i had no idea all of the information i needed was sitting right in front of me 😔😔
- tata
WHAT 9 TO 5 ON EVERY WEEKEND???? the system has failed you this honestly feels like a villain origin story 😭 when does it get better???
ALSO let me answer the other asks separately for better readability lol we really out here writing essays GOOD THING i have practice writing but like. this is infinitely better to write 🥰
PLSSS SOMETIMES I WILL SEE AN EDIT/TIKTOK OF OIKAWA AND BE LIKE DAMN I REALLY NEED TO CATCH UP I MISS THIS MF also are you daring me to ruin my life for 2d men bc i will do it without hesitation. wait till i watch hq again and get that atsumu brainrot with you he seems annoying enough for me to like ^_^
AND YES PLS I WAS SO ABSORBED IN IT!! extracurricular was the most gripping show i’ve watched in a while like yes enough teen romance give me two unhinged teenagers doing crime 🤩 AND OMG??? THAT’S WHERE WE SAW HIM TOO and although niragi was literally vomit-inducing human trash, sakurada dori is like. a good actor. except i hated coffee&vanilla which starred him it was literally so cringe i couldn’t 😭 i blame the writers for that though. IM EXCITED FOR S2 OF ALICE IN BORDERLAND THO i really like horror (and i can tolerate gore if ive been desensitized enough) and like i read the manga too!!! the games were really interesting (although morbid).
😭😭 MY NOTES APP IS FULL OF RECS FROM FRIENDS ALL OF THEM HATE ME FOR NOT WATCHING THE SHOWS BUT LIKE. i binge 3 or 4 at a time and strike them off and then go 6 months without watching a single tv series hhh.
THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I SURE WILL UPDATE !!! it’s so exciting to think about grad school sometimes :33
AHHH IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT AND THE PREVIEW TOO SGSDJKDS there’s a few differences in the actual fic i think bc i changed up the language (and i dont remember what else bc i refuse to look at my writing) JAEHYUN RLLY IS A LITTLE SHIT he’ll be like hm yeah im pretty chill :) and then proceed to beat yn at her own game at times. (she wins mostly dw) the fact that i made her soulmate cha eunwoo like girl if i were you i’d crash their relationship 🥱 (jk) but like. jaehyun too is 🤩 despite being dry af
ASDKDSKDS YOU REREAD ALL (ALMOST) 19K WORDS ??? IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE THAT FIC SM AAAAHHH IM FEELING LIKE AN ACTUAL AUTHOR 🥰 i loved runway yn too they were like boss attitude with 20% anxiety.
LOOK JENO BETTER BE PULLING MOVES LIKE THAT TO IMPRESS THE GIRLS 😤 if he hits himself in the forehead with the apple, bonus points bc that was true comedy (as invented by taemin)
AND YES. LIKE I KNOW MARK HATED DONGHYUCK SO MUCH HE WANTED TO LEAVE SM BUT LIKE HE’S TOO NICE WITH EVERYONE ELSE 😭😭😭 i cannot picture him pissed off apart from that summer fight </3
thinking about dejun getting rejected by a girl he wrote a song for. rip brother.
IM GLAD YOU PUT THAT INTO WORDS BC THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT IT IS!!! he’s got all of these regal qualities but he’s still human ykyk so it makes for the most amiable person on earth 😌 i love this characterization of him!!
oof exes to lovers with jaehyun... i had a similar idea a while ago (with theme song sincerity is scary by the 1975) that i discarded bc i don’t think i’m cut out to write that 😭 (YET) so i will keep this is mind. u r so right about jaehyun feeling inaccurate bc it’s like he’s very mild in personality onscreen sometimes?? so him having strong personality traits makes me go 🤔🤔 that man is overreacting. (jkjk but like you get the idea)
WAIT RLLY OMG BC OF ME???? i would never enjoy e2l irl bc irl dudes are 🤢🤢 and if they annoy me i will end them. but in fiction the mutual pining and initial disgust at yourself for liking the other??? helllooo 🤩🤩🤩 especially if it’s in a romcom style <3 bff2l is also better in fiction bc if the relationship doesnt work out irl and the person become uncomfortable with me i will just get annoyed jskshdl
LMAO YOU ARE SO RIGHT ABOUT YANGYANG HE’S JUST THAT™ DUDE skgkhs he feels like someone fun to hang out with but he would annoy you the whole time. also he is cute 🥰
AND EXACTLY!!!! IM HAPPY FOR ROYALTY AUS BUT CMON. LOOK AT THOSE VAMPIRE TEETH. feel like media ruined vampires for people 😔 
THIS IS SUCH A NICE BREAK FROM STUDYING HONESTLY!!!! im like working on two semi-large projects AND studying course and out-of-course material simultaneously so my brain is a little fried. thank u for this 😘
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packsbeforesnacks · 5 years ago
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You Wanna Ride It, My Mimercycle || Noah & Winn
TIMING: Monday, May 4th, 2020, Sunset LOCATION: The Veterinary Clinic PARTIES: @noah-kalani & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Local Wolf Man (and Friend) Caught Murdering Mimes, More at 11 (”Do you need a license to drive a mimercycle? Asking for a friend.”) WARNINGS: None.
Winn had been riding home when he’d heard the howl, stopping off near the turn to his cabin to message Ariana and Miles in a mild panic. And they’d both been fine, and Kaden wasn’t involved, and that should’ve been the end of it. But it wasn’t. Winn was still reeling over Miles having a secret (well, unknown to him) brother, and that brother being in trouble with fucking Hunters. This was why Winn hadn’t wanted to get close to wolves! (‘Course, the voice in the back of his head was quick to remind him, it was nice to have folks worth carin’ about again.) His mind drifted to Noah unbidden, still stuck on the other night — and the mornin’ after. 
But before he could interrogate his feelings on the other man, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, an unfamiliar scent blowing into his face. Or, more accurately, an intimately familiar scent. There was a black-and-white blur ahead of him on the deserted road. Aw, fuck. Not now. Havin’ to think about his stalker was already bad, and now the fuckin’ mime was showin’ up at the worst possible time. He wasn’t anywhere near the station yet, this part of town only vaguely familiar to him. Winn revved his bike, pulling forward. And to his horror, Winn discovered his stalker wasn’t alone. Oh no. That would be too kind of the Universe. Instead, Winn’s mime was, oh God, riding other mimes? The unholy blob beneath Winn’s mime-self was the twisted, mottled form of a bike, the naked hands and feet of two faceless mimes pedaling it along like the worst Flintstones special. The seat and handles were… Oh, for fuck’s sake. Winn would recognize those dimples anywhere. But why was Noah’s mime-self here?
To say it had been a bit of a rough day at the clinic for one Noah Kalani might be a bit of an understatement. From the computer error that mixed up appointment reminders (No Mrs. Seawol, Alfred was not scheduled to get snip sniped today, that text was a mistake) to one very very heartbreaking euthanasia (yes he broke down and cried once the owner left) he had been put through the wringer in more ways that one, so much so that the Dr Choi took one look at him at the reception desk –silently munching on the lunch he almost forgot to eat– and sent him outside to get some air and some sunshine on his face. Sitting there on the bench next to the parking lot though Noah couldn’t help but fidget in his scrubs. It was almost 5pm.  He just had to make it till then and he could go home, take a shower, cuddle with his own pup, and not agonize over the weird Winn situation of the other night.. But of course like always the universe had other plans, and they were unfolding right before his very eyes.
Winn’s brain had scarcely put together a joke about riding Noah when it all went to Hell. Ricky had warned him. “More aggressive,” he’d said. And the, what, demons were exactly that. The mime-motorcycle (mimercycle, ugh) seemed bent on runnin’ him off the road, as silently as possible. It rammed into the side of Winn’s bike, Winn’s tires skidding on the road as he tried to avoid going down in a blaze of gore-y. His phone flew out of his hand where he’d half-composed a text to Ariana and onto the pavement at a crisp sixty miles an hour. (Don’t text and drive, he guessed.) Fuck, why wasn’t there anyone out, it was, like, five! They were headin’ towards a more populated town, he knew. Given the mimes’ dislike of a public stage, that meant that, soon, he’d either be dead or the mimes were about to make the evenin’ news. And Winn still hadn’t figured out why Noah’s mime wa— Aw, goddammit. He knew that scent, mixed with the scent of a dozen or more other animals, but still distinctly Noah. 
Way Winn saw it, he had two options now. Keep drivin’ towards the other man, riskin’ both their lives or… well, actually, he didn’t have much of a choice. The mimercycle caught up to him again, ramming him from the back and almost pitchin’ Winn off his bike. He slammed on the brakes, just enough that he heard the crunch of at least one of the mimes’ bones as it made contact with the metal. He abandoned the bike, running the rest of the way up to the veterinary clinic to greet his friend. “Hey, uh, take this, but do not touch the blade” he said, pullin’ his silver knife out its sheath and pressing it gently into Noah’s hands. “Silent-but-deadly is about to catch up to us. And, like, maybe focus on them instead of me if you don’t want to see my ass again.” Winn kicked off his boots and threw his jacket towards the clinic. This wasn’t how Winn wanted Noah to see the wolf for the first time, but there wasn’t any other choice. He couldn’t — wouldn’t — let Noah get hurt because he was scared. Never again.
Watching as the nightmarish scene played out before his very eyes, Noah couldn’t exactly figure out where to look first. Because in front of him was now a very sweaty looking Winn, his motorcycle, a terrifying mishmash of limbs dressed in black and white stripes, and oh, hey guess what. Looks like those are mimes. Fantastic. Just what he needed. The cherry on top of the perfectly fucked up day. Figuring it was better to roll with the metaphorical punches White Crest was dolling out than even try to question it (because mimes? really?), Noah sprung into action, closing the last few feet between him and Winn (oh hey hello Winn, nice to see you too, next time bring liquor, not not a shitshow of mimes) the wolf inside of him already relishing the possibility of a fight. Taking a split second, however, he looked over Winn, hoping that the other man wasn’t injured or anything, because that would make whatever this was going to turn into just that much harder. But just as soon as Noah finished his visual assessment on the man in front of him, Winn was pressing a blade into his hands, a silver knife to be exact. The thought making Noah’s skin already start to itch. “Wait, Winn, what the hell—” Noah started before Winn simply transformed.
It was near the Moon, a fact that Winn’s wolf was fully and completely aware of. He had time, just barely, to bark out a “Kill your own mime or it’ll come back.” It came out half as a growl, Winn’s teeth and jaw already warping into his lupine form. It was a little painful tonight, Winn noticed. But maybe the wolf was just eager to get its claws into a victim. He flung himself forward, knocking off his own mime, the clusterfuck of the mimercycle speeding along comically and crashing into a trash can sitting outside of the veterinary clinic. Uh-oh. They didn’t look very happy. Fortunately, neither did Noah. The other man was tense — hell, if he were a full wolf, Winn was almost sure he’d have burst into fur already. 
He didn’t have much time to wonder how Noah’s day had been, though, when his own mime slammed back into him, still in human form, just barely knocking the breath out of Winn. Maybe Winn would get lucky. Maybe his mime wasn’t a werewolf-mime, just a really-strong-human-ish-mime. He growled, clawing at the asphalt beneath his paws, rearing up on his leg. Was it too much to ask for his mime to get scared off? Apparently so. The mime grinned, all teeth, but without Winn’s trademark mirth. It was unnerving. And then, it started miming. It was… loading something? Into a… gun? No. Not a gun. A crossbo— Oh, fuck no, not this shit again. Winn’s reaction time, thank fuck, was great as a wolf when he wasn’t drunk as piss, and he rolled out of the way just in time. He heard the “bolt” thunk into something, it slowly fading into corporeality, the contours of the object becoming real. He whined in Noah’s general direction, trying to warn him that these assholes meant business. Why’d his mime get the cool toys?
“Kill your own mime or it’ll come back.” Those were the last words Winn spoke before he turned, body morphing into a full beast. He was hauntingly beautiful like this, Noah would have to give him that. But now was not the time to contemplate just how beautiful your wolf friend was in his other form, or how badly part of your heart ached to join him. Turning toward the mess that was currently trying to excavate itself from behind the dumpster, Noah noticed someone familiar, his trademark dimples somehow menacing on his painted face. Fucking hell, this mime looked like him, this mime looked like HIM. What the actual fuck. But Noah had no time to really contemplate this horrific being in front of him, because as soon as it stood up it was miming something. What, Noah had no clue and no time to find out. Fuckity fuck fuck. Focusing his energy, Noah lunged, trying to put what little knife training he had into practice, but not before the mime swung at him, some sort of invisible weapon tearing at the sleeve of his scrubs and ripping into the flesh of his forearm. Shit. The mime was miming a fucking invisible weapon. Noah’s eyes widened a little bit, fear now clouding his eyes, especially as the other two mimes flailed in the background. Okay, Kalani. Focus. You brought a knife to a mime fight and you are woefully outnumbered. 
Watching as the other two mimes started slowly resembling something more like humanoid beings and less like a collection of limbs, Noah knew what he had to do. And so he did it. He sprinted headfirst towards the obvious danger, throwing the knife as forcefully as he could, body already getting low and bracing for impact. Tackling. He was made for full contact, that much was evident as he rolled through the impact. Luckily the knife had caught in the mime in his shoulder before it had time to swing the invisible weapon at him, knocking it off balance and giving Noah just enough time to tackle. Excellent. Now get out of here and re-group, he urged himself as he scrambled away from, well, himself, hoping he wasn’t about to get jumped by the two other mimes while he was on the ground. 
But luckily, his getaway was smoother than expected, eyes focusing on one thing and one thing only, getting away from the mimes. But not before he saw something manifest next to the pile of mime limbs. It was comical almost how horrifying the manifestation was, jagged nails sticking out of a long bat shaped piece of wood. Yeah, it figured his own mime would conjure up something athletic. Scrambling as fast as he could,Noah grabbed his new weapon, hoping that Winn would forgive him for the change. Because yeah, he wasn’t really good with knives, but he sure as hell could swing a bat. And it was a good thing too, because as he straightened up into a standing position so did the other two mimes.
Winn had about had it with this mime fuckery, and the fight hadn’t even been going on that long. He saw pieces of Noah’s fight, flickering across his eyes as he avoided bolt after bolt, trying to get close to his own mime to get it out of the way. Just for a second, just long enough to help Noah. Three mime demons on one human was not a fair fight, and Winn could get rid of the other two easily enough. He just needed to get there. Winn saw Noah knife the Noah-mime (score one for Kalani), the smell of human blood lighting up his senses as the wind told him of Noah’s injury (ugh, score one for mimes). Damn it. Another bolt thunked into a nearby tree, and Winn decided to focus on his own mime. Noah’s mime was crumpled, momentarily, a few feet away. Winn’s mime had murder in its eyes, the smile gone from its face. Clearly, its memory of the incident with Kaden had left out some key details. Did it really think Winn was an easy target? As if. 
Winn rushed it, snarling and gnashing his teeth. He really hated to do this, but… He dove under one of the bolts as it launched, and latched his teeth into his mime’s leg. There was a flicker of hesitation in his heart, half-sure that biting the mime would hurt him. But fortunately, no such horror happened. He reared up on his hind-legs, spinning in a half circle and launching his mime into Noah’s, both of them rolling in an unholy tangle down the street just enough to (hopefully) give him time. And time he needed. Noah had, somehow, a bat straight off of The Walking Dead, and that motherfucker was currently being swung in the direction of the two minion-mimes. He grunted, landing beside Noah. Time to even the odds. 
Winn feinted at the left mime, the muted fear leading the mime to open its mouth in a silent scream as a hulking wolf-man headed its way, but at the last second he, and his outstretched claws, dove for the mime on the right. It was a close thing, and Winn hoped Noah could deal with the mime-that-who-pissed-itself, but Winn’s claws sank true and deep into the mime’s gut. He stuck his other paw out and into the mime’s stomach, yanking as hard as this form could, and the mime exploded into a puff of black-and-white smoke. One down, three to— Fuck. 
Something slammed into Winn’s side, hard. He rolled, rolled, and stopped, panting. And before him stood himself. Only this time, there was no easy smile, no mimed crossbow. Oh no. The mime had decided to get serious. And that meant Winn staring into his own eyes… as the wolf. A monster, hulking, as warped as Winn was elegant. It was a facsimile, the copy not quite right. Mutilated, likely, by the times it had been thrown around. Its fur was the worst part, striped as all mimes were, lines drawn across its powerful body like a warning. Danger. Where was a Hunter when you needed one?
Finally upright, Noah hardly had any time to take in his surroundings, or address the slippery trickle of blood he could feel slowly sliding down his arm, before a mass of black and white was hurtling toward his menacing imposter, knocking the mime down once again. Winn. He’d forgotten momentarily about the other man — correction, wolf — he was fighting alongside, but he was grateful for the assist nevertheless, especially as the two mime demons started their slow creep towards him, hands already shaping invisible items. Watching Winn out of the corner of his eyes, Noah was determined to bat cleanup (all puns intended) and swung with all his might at the mime Winn had left, resulting in a perfect headshot. And just like that, the demon vanished in a puff of smoke, marking their kill count as two. 
Using this split second of time to catch his breath, Noah looked around, hoping they were somehow winning? That's when he saw it. The grotesque caricature of a werewolf, one might say, striped, lumbering, its back to him, its eyes focused on one thing and one thing only. Winn. It was safe to say Noah didn’t know much about mimes, nor did he know much about werewolves, or the terrifying hybrid of both (yeah, he was going to have nightmares for YEARS). But watching his mime counterpart starting to stand again, hands clawing desperately at his wound, black sludge oozing, no, sizzling slowly out of the edges he knew one thing for sure. He actually did need that knife. Letting go of the bat, Noah dove low towards his own likeness again, bracing for another impact and using his momentum to carry him through. Tackling like this was infinitely harder without pads, but the adrenaline coursing through him refused to let him forget his years of muscle memory as he crashed yet again to the ground on top of 200 pounds of mime. 
Scrambling to get into a sitting position before an all too familiar pair of arms wrapped around him, Noah swung a couple of punches, channeling his own wolfy brute force and aggression to make them count. “Stay DOWN, you fucking MOTHER. FUCKER!” he screamed into his own face, the irony of the moment definitely not lost on him. But, of course, Noah had bigger fish to fry than to think about how much therapy he was going to need after this. Hoping his mime was stunned enough, Noah grabbed the knife and wrenched it out, hands, feet, and legs somehow clambering out of one special hell and into another. But not before he cocked his arm and aimed the already blackened, bloody knife into the meaty striped back of monstrous mime-wolf.
There were things that Winn knew about himself which, considering the crossbow situation, he had to assume that maybe this cursed thing knew too. For example, since the incident with Kaden, he was, ever-so-slightly, weaker on one side. Winn had learned to compensate, and knew that, soon, the Moon would undo the last of the damage the silver had done. The mime, though, wasn’t actually a wolf, and Winn could tell. It was in the way that it moved, the way that it seemed on-edge, even in its pure aggression. Winn, however, was intimately aware of his furrier half. And that was the edge he needed. The wolf inside (outside?) of him was howling, urging him onward to kill, kill, kill. 
Winn clawed once, twice, quickly swiping at the mime. He wasn’t trying to hit it, just throw it off-balance. Wolves were strong, he wouldn’t be able to just tear open its chest. But if he could get it on its back, he could tear out its throat. The soft skin was the weakest point he could think of, and he didn’t have the dagger on him (and he shuddered to think what it might do to him in this form). They went back-and-forth like that, as Winn heard Noah shout at his own double. He couldn’t make it out, too focused, but he could feel the fury from Noah. He wanted to howl in pride. The mime hesitated, hearing the fight behind it (and, oh God, did they care about each other?), and Winn saw his opportunity, sweeping his claws low at the side that Kaden had injured. As he made contact, he felt the mime-wolf tense — not from him, but from a knife to its back. He and Noah had gotten lucky, or maybe they were just in-sync, because the silver dagger sank true. (And Winn shuddered, for just a moment, remembering how the dagger had felt in his own back.) 
But this was his chance. He followed through, tripping the mime up and shoving it hard, on its back. Its mouth opened in a silent scream as the silver jammed deeper into its back, its neck exposed. And Winn went for the kill, snarling as he ripped its throat out, the body fading in striped waves as the mime choked on its own tar. But this wasn’t over, not yet. He needed to help Noah. The dagger laid in front of him, messy and black, and Winn took a chance. Winn made an angry, barking sound, trying to get Noah’s attention, before picking up the knife in his mouth (barely missing the silver of the blade) and flinging it in a high arc through the air. Alright, football boy. Fetch.
Letting the knife quite literally slip out of his hands from all of the mime blood it was drenched in, Noah hoped he had helped in some capacity, the wound in the mime-wolf’s back already bubbling out thick, viscous black sludge. It was almost as if the skin was boiling off, and Noah couldn’t help the shiver that went down his spine. Was this really what happened when real wolves came in contact with silver knives? Because if so, then that was the real scary stuff right there. Bringing his focus back to the task at hand Noah made sure to wipe what he could off his hands on his scrubs, his wolf healing not fast enough to really seal the wound, but just fast enough to keep him from feeling the effects of his blood loss. 
Looking around for the bat from hell, Noah stared in horror as it dawned on him. In his haste to help Winn he’d accidentally thrown the bat towards his mime, not away from him. Fuck his life. Because yeah, he was left weaponless, watching helplessly as his mime-self did not fucking stay down like he had been so kindly asked to do. Hearing the bark from behind him, though, Noah turned just in time to see Winn’s wolf form pitch forward, something silver hurtling in an upward arc towards him. Wait, was that the knife? Oh thank heavens, the flying thing was the knife. Wait… no, no, no, the knife was flying, spinning like an unwieldy bullet, and, oh God, who did Winn think he was? Tom Brady? Because he was most definitely not Tom Brady. No, Noah was trained to go crash crash boom boom, not spinny twirly jumpy catchy. 
But seeing as how the wolf gave him no choice, up Noah went, praying to all that was holy that he could manage to catch the knife on the butt end. It took a second, maybe less before the younger boy completed his jump, hand luckily catching the knife with only minimal damage to the palm of his hand. Readjusting his grip, Noah twisted back toward his own mimesona, its dimples still pulled in that menacing smile. Holding the knife as tightly as he could, Noah sprinted forward, using his own body as a battering ram of sorts before he plunged the knife into the heart of the mime, pitching them backwards and onto the concrete for the third and last time. And just like that, it was over, a pile of oozing black goo where his own grizzly persona had once stood.
Fucking… hell. “I hate mimes,” Winn said — or, well, tried to say. It came out as a whiny, half-growl, the lupine mouth trying to create sounds it was simply incapable of. The wolf was… happy. More or less. Noah wasn’t badly injured, Winn and Noah had defeated their mimes, and Winn’s bike was still in working condition. Winn’s clothes, however, had not survived the experience. And though mime magic (maybe?) had kept the town clear, Winn doubted that his luck would last for much longer. He needed to get inside, and he needed to get inside now. If he were a born wolf, he could transform further, pretend to be… a really big dog? Noah could lie. Hopefully. Maybe. Winn went over to the other man, sniffing at his injury and whining in the back of his throat. It was healing. Not as fast as Winn would heal, in the same situation, but it would be fine. He could tell. Noah was covered in mime goop, though even that was fading into puffs of striped smoke. 
He huffed out a noise, taking Noah into his arms and hugging him as the wolf, careful not to let his claws hurt Noah. He dwarfed the man, in this form, but he could already feel the adrenaline running out of his body. The wolf was tired, and that meant, well, Winn had two options. He could hope that Noah forgave him for yet another incident involving Winn’s dick, or he could run away. Winn knew what he had to do. He picked up Noah quickly, carrying them over to the alleyway beside the clinic, obscured, just barely, by the dumpster that had been shoved in the fight, and turned back, still embracing the other man. He was glad, so glad, that he was okay. He… didn’t know what he would have done if Noah had been hurt. He didn’t know what Noah would have done if Winn hadn’t been there to help fend off the mimes. 
Winn leaned his head into Noah’s shoulder. He smelled, he knew, pretty bad, the mime gunk leaving a stench from the places it had congealed in his fur. If that smell didn’t come out, Winn would have to stand in the rain for the next week. Wet dog was better than dead mime. “So,” he said, after holding Noah for a long moment, “I’m naked, and gross. Do y’all have a shower and, uh, can I borrow your scrubs? Don’t want to ruin a nicer pair of clothes, since those seem not long for this world. I can, uh, I can stay here until it’s all clear. Just bring me, uh, a towel or somethin’?” He was rambling. Winn pulled back from the hug, looking into Noah’s eyes, and feeling that same pull he’d been trying to forget about. Sober, Winn resisted, a half-smile forming on his face. “We kinda kicked ass, huh?”
Even covered in the stupid mime goop, that was already starting to evaporate into oddly striped smoke, Noah couldn’t help but smile. He did it. They did it. How? He didn’t have the slightest clue, but that wasn’t what mattered, in this moment anyway. No what mattered was Winn. As if on cue, Noah felt the wolf’s arms wrap around him, a weird feeling of comfort washing over him. “Hey bud,” he whispered softly, hand reaching up to intertwine into the course fur surrounding Winn’s muzzle. “Really glad you’re okay.” Because he honestly was glad that Winn was okay, relieved even. Because if Winn had… No. He wasn’t going to think about that. He didn’t need to think about that. What he really needed to think about was why in the world he was being lifted into the air?! 
“Holy shit!” Noah exclaimed, clearly not expecting Winn’s wolf to heft him up like a small child, arms and legs flailing (only slightly) out from underneath him. “Winn, what the hell,” he grunted out as he was deposited behind the dirty mime dumpster, somehow now hugging a naked man. Typical Winn Woods. Sighing, the younger man ran a hand though the dirty mop of hair now resting on his shoulder, somehow finding it hard to care too much about the awkward predicament Winn was putting him through right now. It was just nice to be hugged after all, and nice to know they were both not going to be mime dinner. “Yeah, I can find you something to wear, just give me a few seconds to breathe,” he murmured in response to Winn’s plea for clothes, not really wanting this moment to end. But all good moments did have to end sooner or later. 
As Winn pulled away from the hug, another one of Noah’s worst nightmares unfolded before his eyes. “Hello employee, and strange man hugging said employee.” The almost monotone timber and dry cadence rippled through the alleyway, sending chills rippling down Noah’s spine. Dr. Choi. Freezing on the spot, Noah gulped involuntarily, not knowing whether to jump on top of Winn (to cover his nakedness, of course) or to scramble away from him. Shit. “Noah, I’m guessing you’d like a spare pair of scrubs for your guest here, and possibly for yourself?” she continued as she raised a small, thin eyebrow eyebrow in the pair’s direction, apparently unphased by him covered in blood hugging a naked man behind a dumpster. “Uh, yes please.” Looking at Winn and then back to Dr. Choi and then back at Winn again, Noah could feel his brain start to literally malfunction. His mouth was devoid of words, incapable of forming even the smallest sentence so he just nodded instead, hoping that would be enough. “I’ll leave them on the counter next to the dog tub, then,” she replied nonchalantly before turning on her heel and walking back inside the clinic.
“Y’know,” Winn said as Noah led his naked ass into the clinic, “you’re handling my furrier half pretty well.” Hell, Noah had touched him — let Winn touch him — while in that form. Winn felt the warmth from Noah’s hand, still recent on his cheeks, and smiled like a goof. And Noah was havin’ far less of a freakout over Winn’s naked body than the other night. (Though, it likely helped that they’d both just nearly died, that everyone was sober, and that there was no morning wood afterwards this time.) The vet seemed chill in a way that Winn could appreciate… though, almost too chill? He sniffed the air, trying to smell anything odd, but all he could for his trouble was the tarry smell of the mimes. Yuck. 
Winn spotted the dog tub, making a beeline. He’d showered with a hose in the middle of nowhere before, this wasn’t all that different. Out of the corner of his eye, Winn saw Noah about to leave the room, to give him some privacy and whined. Wait, no, human form. Words. “Hey, um… Please don’t leave. I mean, don’t have to scrub my back or nothin’, but, um… Just need to make sure you’re safe. It’s a wolf thing. Kinda. And don’t you want to get a little cleaner, too, bro?” Winn winced, turning on the water and bracing himself against the cold, scrubbing at the occasional scrape that the mimes had torn into his skin, trying to make sure that, at least, the dirt was all out of it before it healed up. He reached over the edge of the tub to swipe some pup shampoo, figuring it was… mostly the same, right? “So, uh, I’m bushed,” Winn said, running his hands through his hair to get whatever remaining muck out. “But I need to borrow your phone for a sec. Mine’s back on the pavement somewhere, and there’s some shit goin’ down, and I need to make sure that everythin’ is alright? I’ll explain, promise.” Clean enough, Winn grabbed the huge towel that the good vet had left for them, knowing that he prolly smelled like a wet dog. Hot. Super great. Good thing Noah was used to the smell. 
He shook his hair out, before drying it off like, y’know, a human, and slipped into the scrubs, back turned to the tub. They were about his size, prolly a spare pair of Noah’s, though the lack of underwear didn’t do any favors for him in the, uh, cling department. Alright, first home, take Noah with him, get them both fed. Provide. Wait, no. He shushed the wolf, even as his stomach growled loudly. Miles, Ariana, and… Ulf, whoever-the-fuck-that-was, were on the case, and Winn knew he’d be next-to-useless now, as beat up as he was. He’d check in with Miles, ASAP, and be there for him and his brother. Like a good packma— Winn paused. Like a good friend. Speaking of friends, though… He turned around. 
Noah’s eyes were closed, and Winn took the opportunity to take in the sight before him for just a moment. The other man was built, he’d known that much, but Winn wasn’t prepared for the curves and edges of the other man’s body. He averted his eyes from Noah’s dangly bits, not wantin’ to be a creep, and his eyes landed on a scar on the Noah’s hip. Old, Winn could tell. From the transplant, then. He felt a flare of anger at Noah’s donor. Saving his life, but dooming him to pain, was irresponsible. Noah should’ve gotten a choice — someone should’ve given him the Bite. Winn needed to bring it up, somehow. But, for now, he threw the towel at the other man. “Dinner time,” he said, a wolfish (ha) grin on his face. “My treat. Make up for all of the, uh, nudity. Unless,” Winn added, before he could stop himself, “ya liked it, that is.” And with a wink, Winn turned around to go find his jacket and boots, and lock up his bike for the night, satisfied by the simple joy of being alive.
“Winn, I just killed a Stephen King-inspired Halloween costume version of myself with my own bare hands,” Noah huffed out, grateful that none of the other techs were poking around to watch him lead a very naked man into the backroom. “Your furry little problem is the least of mine right now.” Because yeah, the grand mindfuckery of a situation that was happening — Winn’s wolf form, as well as his dick being out (again) — was really just turning into a normal day in the life of one Noah Kalani. Well almost. The wolf thing did spark a lot of questions, but one crisis at a time. 
Turning on the faucet in the tub, Noah backed away, despite the small wolfy part of his mind screaming at him not to let his friend out of his sight. But apparently this nice human-focused gesture wasn’t needed. “It's a wolf thing.” Winn explained almost nonchalantly, and Noah hadn't even realized those were the words he had been searching for until they were hanging in the air between them. It's a wolf thing. The idea itself wasn't strange, no. Noah had been using that as an excuse for years, but it was strange to have something that usually only existed inside his own mind uttered back to him, and by someone so casually. 
Glancing over at Winn as he scrubbed himself down, Noah allowed himself a lingering glance, something about this more raw encounter different than all the other times he’d seen Winn. And maybe that was because Noah was finally truly seeing. Seeing the possibilities, as well as vulnerabilities of Winn Woods, the other man’s body in various stages of healing, and an angry bite scar maring the skin of his right hip. A small blush that colored Noah’s cheeks. Winn was actually really beautiful in his human form. But he’d also been beautiful as a wolf, that much was true. 
Pushing this new strange dichotomy out of his mind, Noah gingerly stripped off his scrubs, intent on ridding himself of any and all lingering mime. Handing Winn his phone he’d retrieved from the bench before they’d gone inside, Noah jumped into the tub that Winn had so graciously vacated, trying to make his time in the dog shower as quick as possible. Catching the towel that was thrown at him, Noah dried, giving Winn a playful eye roll as he did. “Your nudity is about as welcome to me as those mimes were,” he lied, jumping into his new pair of scrubs and following the other man out of the door with a grin. It had been a rough day but, somehow, it was starting to look better.
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fcarher · 5 years ago
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THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.
First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all have witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.
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Mun Name: slug / ellie     Age: 19       Contact: IM, discord
Character(s) I rp: Yunaeisha Adynora, other demons from my lore Which muse(s) inspires you the most atm?(for MM): Yunaeisha Current Fandom(s): None really  Fandom(s) you have an AU for:  Naruto, PKMN, Magi, Gangsta, OPM, MHA, Hazbin Hotel & currently working on an ATLA verse My language(s): german, polish, italian, english   Themes I’m interested in for rp:   Fantasy / Science fiction / Horror / Western / Romance / Thriller / Mystery / Dystopia / Adventure / Modern / Erotic / Crime / Mythology / Classic / History / Renaissance / Medieval / Ancient / War / Family / Politics / Religion / School / Adulthood / Childhood / Apocalyptic / Gods / Sport / Music / Science / Fights / Angst / Smut / Drama / etc. Themes/Genres you have an AU for: highschool, modern & fantasy/medieval
Preferred Thread length: one-liner / 1 para / 2 para / 3+ / novella. Asks can be send by: Mutuals / Non-Mutuals / Personals / Anons. Can Asks be continued?:   YES / NO   only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO. Preferred thread type: crack / casual nothing too deep / serious / deep as heck. Is realism / research important for you in certain themes?:   YES / NO. Are you atm open for new plots?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Do you handle your draft / ask - count well?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. How long do you usually take to reply?:  24h / 1 week / 2 weeks / 3+ / months / years. I’m okay with interacting: original characters / a relative of my character (an oc) / duplicates / my fandom / crossovers / multi-muses / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / canon-divergent portrayals / au-versions (as main or only verse). Do you post more ic or occ?:  IC / OOC. Are you selective with following others?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.  
Best ways to approach you for rp/plotting: the best way is just to straight up approach me. most often than not, just liking a post is not enough because it’s too vague ?? like if i post an idea & you like that, i’ll still be hesitant when it comes to roleplaying or approaching you because, while i appreciate such gestures, i’m just too anxious. therefore, plopping into my IMs without a properly fleshed out idea is also fine ! it, at least, gives me the hint that you’re actively seeking interaction. however, just saying “i want to roleplay & plot !” won’t cut it; at least, have something in mind, please !
What expectations do you hold towards your plotting partner:  basic ideas & pouring their heart into plotting! i don’t mind waiting, at all, so if you’re busy, don’t worry about keeping me waiting; i completely understand since i’m also often busy with work or university. but !! please don’t only come to me with the statement: “i want to plot!” it’s not gonna cut it & it’s not gonna help with a proper interaction, at all. if i approach someone, most often than not, i have SOME sort of idea in mind. but yeah, being passionate is the most important thing!
When you notice the plotting is rather one-sided, what do you do?:  most often than not, the conversation will die down because i will loose motivation; i don’t like it because i’ll feel like a bother & i shouldn’t feel that way when it comes to a hobby! therefore, one-sided plotting is one of my deal breakers; i usually end the conversation & there will be little to no interaction happening. like i said; i don’t mind waiting, i just hate that feeling of coming on TOO strong when my plotting partner delivers no input. 
How do you usually plot with others, do you give input or leave most work towards your partner?:  often than not, i start off with rather simple question like; are you interested in a certain verse ? do you already have something in mind ? if not, i will go through their about page & ask them things about their character & how that could possibly bring our characters to interact. sometimes, the about pages of a muse cannot give you every single bit of information; muses grow & change with each thread, therefore, it’s often better to just ask the people about their characters ! & from then on, it often just comes naturally. 
When a partner drops the thread, do you wish to know?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: if the thread is not THAT important or vital for our character’s relationship; i don’t mind & won’t need to know if the thread is dropped. sometimes, if it’s a heavily plotted thread & i’ve anticipated the interaction a lot; i’d appreciate a quick heads-up from my partner that they’re not feeling that certain thread any longer; i don’t mind that !! - What should your partner do when dropping a thread?: they don’t need to tell me; SOMETIMES, it’s just a nice gesture but most of the time, i don’t care, we can always start another thread !!
What could possibly lead you to drop a thread?:  many things can lead to me dropping a thread; just losing motivation, having no muse for a certain genre or simply having the feeling that my partner is not liking it, any longer (ex. extreme lack of trying to match the reply length ). my health & my schedule can also, sadly, affect my motivation, so, more often than not, i tend to drop shorter threads & keep longer ones.  - Will you tell your partner?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS.
Is communication in the rpc important to you?   YES / NO. - And why?:  i get anxious really fast if people stop replying for a very long time, out of the blue. it has happened to me once before with a good friend with whom i have no contact with any longer due to miscommunication & them not trying to communicate the issue with me; therefore, yes, it is very important. i wanna know if something is bothering you; i wanna know if you like something very much; i wanna know what’s up ! we’re humans & we’re adults; we can talk about this.  - Are you okay with absolute honesty, even if it may means hearing something negative about you and/or portrayal?:  yes ! as long as it is constructive criticism & not straight-up bashing my characters or lore; i’m all for it. i don’t mind hearing negative things; in fact, i appreciate the honesty & it gives me room to work on myself & my writing ! - Do you think you can handle such situation in a mature way?  YES / NO.
Why do you rp again, is there a goal?:  building relationships that LAST & exploring my muses through & through; it is amazing how much yuna has grown through interactions with others; how different she has become from the yuna i once started out with; it’s almost been a year now & it’s just amazing. however, i’m not stopping anytime soon; THERE IS SO MUCH MORE I WANT TO EXPLORE !! the ultimate goal is for me to just look at my blog & be completely proud of what i have accomplished & written; i want fleshed out relationships & threads; deep stuff !!
Wishlist, be it plots or scenarios:  yuna talking with someone about her struggles; mentally & physically. being open about her abusive father & how it has traumatized her & painted men in the worst picture one could imagine. HOWEVER; a hard thing because i don’t want these things to be pre-est or something; i want a thread where there is struggling, screams, conflict ! it is rather hard to find someone, though, who is willing & fitting to go onto that long journey with me & yuna. also, i’d love to write about darker stuff; i love fluff, though, sometimes i sure want a bit of that, too. 
Themes I won’t ever rp / explore:  the only things i won’t rp or explore are stated in my rules; ex. pedophilia, rape & really descriptive animal abuse. killing, torture, gore as well as cheating, heartbreak or toxic relationships are okay, while i do prefer to have a deeper bond with someone while exploring the latter & be communicating the whole time; i think these are really REAL topics & that’s why i wouldn’t mind exploring them because it does happen, more than one would like them to happen. however, if i see you, the mun, glorifying or romanticizing these; just no. 
What Type of Starters do you prefer / dislike, can’t work with?: i like everything with some sort of substance; i love short ones as much as long ones, nevertheless, you have to give me something to work with. yuna would ignore anyone not of any interest or value to her; therefore, if your muse just asks her random questions, the interaction will go nowhere. if you’re unsure; just ask !!
What type of characters catch your interest the most?: i love characters with uniqueness to them; it can be a certain interest, certain appearance or their species can be totally unique to them; i’ll love it ! i do have a thing for villains, though; always had, even when i was young 8^) so, dark, stubborn & “evil” characters catch my interest far more than a really nice muse who just is all smiles all day. i love a muse that can kick mine & yuna’s ass, basically. someone with strong morals or who is just really set on their beliefs can also offer conflict which i ADORE !! i need it; i live for it !!
What type of characters catch your interest the least?:  really kind & unbothered muses who are self-sacrificing, perfect & loved by everyone for no reason ?? idk, i just think it’s bad writing. everyone has flaws; no one is perfect ! 
What are your strong aspects as rp partner?:  i am a very open person who will talk with you about anything & is keen on exploring our character’s relationship at all times & through all means; i often send my rp partners prompts in form of my yuna just being her dumb-self or through memes ! i will constantly think about our characters & will try to have them interact as much as possible. i am, most of the time, very active & respond to the threads fairly quickly ! if i am totally invested; you’ll get everything you want; a moodboard, an edit, a drawing, etc. i literally pour my heart & soul into every bond my muse has; i live for them. oh !! i also love asking people question about their characters; i just love learning new things about them !! 
What are your weak aspects as rp partner?: i’m very slow out of character; i don’t approach muns a lot because i’m scared to be a bother, working on it ! i often ramble a lot & my writing can become a bit convoluted & hard to understand, i apologize ! i tend to not message people on discord as often as i’d like to; mostly because i’m really socially awkward or just don’t think that what i want to show to them is THAT important. i’m not as straight-forward as i wish myself to be; however, even with all that; i still have a lot of fun & am acknowledging & actively working on my weak aspects ! 
Do you rp smut?:  YES / NO. Do you prefer to go into detail?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Are you okay with black curtain?:  YES / NO. - When do you rp smut? More out of fun or character development?:  often, it is because i want to develop the relationship or yuna’s character; she’s a very sexual being who hardly connects to someone emotionally; therefore, writing sex & exploring the vulnerability behind it can be really beautiful ! though, fun is also involved !  - Anything you would not want to rp there?:  non-consensual stuff is a no-go ! also, certain kinks that make me uncomfortable are also off the table; ex. anything involving bodily fluids other than spit. 
Are ships important to you?:   YES / NO. Would you say your blog is ship-focused?:   YES / NO. Do you use read more?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Are you: Multi-Ship / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship  —  Multiverse / Singleverse. - What do you love to explore the most in your ships?:  i love the conflicts the most; clashing ideals or just two stubborn muses arguing for the heck of it is really fun & can develop the relationship beautifully ! yuna is a person who likes someone that can be properly fought with, verbally here. but of course, i also adore the very soft moments!! i love meaningless fluff; it warms my heart.  - What is your smut tag?: SINFUL.
Are you okay with pre-established relationships?: YES / NO. - And what kind of ones?: nothing TOO drastic; a friendship, a rivalry is a-okay ! however, i’m very hesitant when it comes to having pre-est. romantic relationships; though, you can quickly change my mind if you pour your soul into the plotting; then i’m fine with it ! everything that needs time when writing also needs time when plotting; don’t just straight up jump into something if you’re not able to give it your all.
► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.
- What could possibly make your Muse interesting towards others, why should they rp with this particular character of yours now, what possible plots do they offer?:  i think yuna is a person with whom it is easy to form relationships with; it takes a bit of time but due to her rather drastic ideals & opinions; anything can be founded within seconds. she doesn’t hold back when it comes to her honesty & conflicts will arise. also, for all muses with demonic or deity backgrounds; being a daughter of the literal queen of hell, though, also harboring fragments of a god’s soul makes her unique in the supernatural world which can spark interest with your character or even they can develop an ill-will towards her ? i think it’s really interesting exploring what makes one work & go on & yuna has the philosophical potential to tickle that out of your muse; she question EVERYTHING. now for certain plots; one-sided love or even friendships are always really interesting, especially when she is the one having such feelings. other than that; she has enormous & dangerous powers; so if you’re into character or world-building; can offer that as well !
- With what type of Muses do you usually struggle to rp with?:  humans; she doesn’t approach humans who are just kind & have nothing to offer for her, the least she’d do is have sex with them or kill them to harvest their life energy. i’m sorry but she really does hate all of humanity & to change that opinion ? man, you must be the most stubborn person ever.  - With what type of Muses do they usually work well with?:  characters who are of supernatural or demonic nature; she’ll be very interested & even nosy to a point. also, very attractive characters who are not afraid to speak their mind; she’s really superficial most of the time & will flirt with anything that she deems good-looking. muses who have ideals that contrast hers or that are similar to her but also, generally, people who are open-minded. 
- What interests your Muse(s) in general:  sex, parties, plants & flowers, astronomy, writing, demons & hell, the underground scene, killing, knives & playing the piano - What do they desire, is their goal?:  the questions that bother her the most are; why did her mother had to die ? why would nobody help her while she was being abused by her father ? why was she kept alive by her sisters ? is there love out there for someone like her ? what do these strange visions mean that occur almost every night ? she has a lot of things she wants to experience & wishes to have a normal life once she has killed her other mother, lilith, which is her ultimate goal, at the moment.  - What catches their interest first when meeting someone new?:  their appearance; the scent of their blood & if it differs from humans; how they react towards her & what they do in front of her.  - What do they value in a person?:    strong opinions, loyalty, good looks, humor, strength (not limited to physical strength) - What themes do they like talking about?:  herself or the world & the state of it; she likes being philosophical with some, can often be somewhat self-centered; THOUGH; it is almost always for her to see how they would react to that. 
- Which themes bore them?:  love & drama; she does not care a lot for gossip or anything relating to it; the topic of love, no matter in which sense, is always brushed off because she just doesn’t find any appeal in it. 
- Did they ever went through something traumatic?:  Being the reason her own mother committed suicide; Her father & sister abusing her all her life, spouting lies & beating her until she could stand no more while her other sisters would watch & do nothing, even though, they were supposed to support each other; laewa, one of her sisters, fancying the idea of killing yuna for the greater good; two of her best friends turning on her when they find out she’s not human & then being killed right in front of her eyes; her one & only boyfriend protecting her from a demon hunter & being killed in the process - What could possibly trigger them?:  loud sudden noises; making fun of her attachment to her late ex-boyfriend, being awfully nice to her, the sight of any dog or wolf, tender touches (esp. her back being touched), being alone with her thoughts for far too long  - What could set them off, enrage them?:  people who make fun of her & her powers; calling her a monster; not understanding her pain when she opens up; purposefully touching her back or any other scarred skin, being nosy  - What could lead to an instant kill?:  you are a demon hunter that does not show remorse when killing demons with a consciousness, trying to kill her, killing one of her comrades 
- Is there someone /-thing they hate?:  Keela Adynora, Myra Adynora (Father, Sister), the other D.O.L.s, EYES’ superiors (the organization she works for), Humans, Lilith - Is there someone /-thing they love?:  Evelin Adynora (Her biological mother)
Is your Muse easy to approach?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?: If you’re not quite human or are a demon, you could literally stand next to her & be silent; she’ll become curious on her own. other than that; be interesting or flirt with her; just do something that does not involve small talk; she hates that.  - Where are they usually to find?:  strip club (her workplace), bars, clubs, clearings within a forest, nice areas that are full of trees & plants; a roof-top
Something you may still want to point out about your muse?:  Yuna is basically pandora’s box personified; she may seem nice & attractive from the outside but within her are sleeping demons that only wait to be awakened. & withal, she is still a cutie who will become your number one supporter & protector if you manage to build a proper relationship with. it’s hard to get through that shell & what awaits is NOT that pretty but with years upon years of abuse, neglect & shit being thrown her way; it’s not easy being a carefree immortal. 
CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥
Tagged by:  @skyvar , i srsly love these so much, snow !! thank you for tagging me <3 i had so much fun 8′)  Tagging:  @thevvolf ; @nezumi-vc-103221 ; @empiia ; @dvojakyvlk ; @childrenxfthemoon ; @hensetsu​​ ; @goldempire​​ ; @animatedatrophy​ ; @talonness​ ; @shikkotsunin​ ; @wcrthlessanimal​ & anyone else !! 
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dearheartwitcher · 5 years ago
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ocs masterpost
for ease of access! in-depth descriptions of all my favorite ocs, all in one post. you can find even more of my ocs (brief descriptions + reference images) over on my art fight page! (you have to be logged in to view!)
[[MORE]]
DnD Characters:
note: for some of these, i have to omit large portions of info as i am either actively playing them, or saving them for a future campaign, and i dont want anyone im playing with to see and accidentally spoil themselves
Fennryn Autumntide—
They were separated from their parents as a baby, and instead raised by an older dwarven woman named Rhiannon Autumntide (AKA Anna). They lived in the forest on the mountain together. She taught them how to fend for themself, and a basic respect for nature and other living things. Their relationship was very teacher/student, but as the years went by they saw each other as family. Fenn solidified this by taking Anna’s last name when they were of age. Eventually, Anna passed away, and Fenn was left in the woods alone.
Fearful of dying alone without ever having experienced life off of the mountain, Fenn sets out to find an adventure. And they find one, alongside a younger tiefling man named Finn. Finn is an experienced pirate, but he is vulnerable. Finn and Fenn trust each other explicitly, and after some time, they fall in love.
Fenn is tall, muscular, and an older elf. They’re around middle aged.
Alistair—
Alistair is a mystery. They are a bizarre-looking half-elf, with a wicked grin, and glowing cyan eyes that lack pupils. They are seemingly fairly young, despite their hair beginning to grow white at the roots.
Alistair is extremely curious, and values sating that curiosity above most things. They spend much of their time exploring and researching. They also have a complete lack of respect for personal boundaries, and love to study and inspect whoever they can get their hands on. (They’re good with a pair of pliers, if you’re willing to let them pull a tooth. They’d be happy to show you their collection.)
Alistair also thrives on positive attention, especially from people who don’t give it easily. Perhaps that’s why they insist on hanging off of Frey as much as they do. Frey Matthias Wolfe is a rich bastard. He’s a man of study as well, but he’s a real mean bitch. And Alistair loves him.
Alistair’s patron... Is a whole other story. One that will remain secret, for now.
Jesse—
Jesse was spawned from the thought “I should make a mean nerd for everyone to bully!” And the execution, imo, was flawless. A 24 year old human man. Jesse is a bard, and he hates it. He has been traveling on his own for a while, and finished his bard college education a couple years ago. He’s pretty studious, and he’s determined to learn everything related to magic that he can.
Despite being a jackass, and kind of a stick in the mud, he does have some semblance of a sense of humor. He also likes to use his intelligence and skill to feel superior to the people around him as often as possible. He is visibly extremely disturbed by corpses.
Jesse is very vague about his past and his reasons for traveling alone.
Ford—
Ford is my newest character! He is a firbolg cowboy. Extremely tall (approaching 8’), with a powerful build. I can’t say much about him yet! He is seemingly very friendly and happy to lend a helping hand whenever he can. He has a sister, named Clementine, who owns a small grocery store.
Cressida:
(note: cressida city + the world its a part of belongs to my boyfriend @ghost-gore ! all the characters that mine know belong to him as well. warning for gore on his blog.)
Ellis—
Ellis is a demon who works in limbo under a man named Crow. Ellis is technically speaking, pretty old, but he looks just as much the young man he was when he died. He keeps his long hair back in a ponytail, and can’t seem to ever wear his suit properly.
Ellis’ powers allow him to see and alter people’s memories. Limbo, as it works out, is a mess of memories. He is always very busy keeping things in order. He’s no stranger to making mistakes, but he has a knack for fixing them to make up for it. When he has a moment to himself, he likes to slip into the dreams of humans. He thinks they’re interesting! (But he keeps accidentally bringing them nightmares...oops. Don’t worry, he can fix it!)
Ellis is in love with his boss, and has been for over a century. He has a hard time keeping it subtle, but fortunately(??) Crow is oblivious. But a century is a long time... And things have gotten intimate between them more than once.
He is also good friends with a much older demon, named Cordia. They like to meet up for drinks, and bond over funny cat pictures.
Rosier—
Rosier is an old, powerful demon. He was once a high-ranking officer in “Hell”’s military. He was charming, and an excellent strategist. (Having a powerful beast form also helps.)
However, something triggered him severely. In a frenzied panic, he shifted into his beast form and flew off.
As a beast, he has large red eyes, long antennae, sharp claws, and huge black wings. Years passed as he isolated himself, and legends spread of the Mothman. Rosier lost himself more and more, until he lost the ability to speak. He stopped seeing any people as the apocalypse happened all around him.
Later, living in the ruins outside of Cressida, he is found by a young hero named Ghost. Ghost is initially intimidated by Rosier, and treats him as an enemy. They fight a few times, before Ghost realizes that Rosier isn’t necessarily a foe— he’s just defending himself. Ghost then begins to treat Rosier almost as a pet.
After some time rehabilitating Rosier, Ghost brings him back to Orion HQ, where they work for Cordia. Cordia is one of very few demons old enough to recognize Rosier.
Eventually, Rosier is able to read, speak, and transform back into a more human shape. He still retains a few of his moth form’s traits, including fully red eyes, fur here and there, and limbs that fade to near-black at the tips.
Cyrus Darcy—
Cyrus is a rich bitch whore. He cares about three things ONLY: wine, sex, and himself. Money is power and he has more than enough of it. His parents passed away when he was a teenager, and they left him a fortune.
Cyrus always gets what he wants. If money can’t get it for him, he has another trick up his sleeve that can. Cyrus is a celestial, meaning a human born with supernatural powers. Cyrus has the power of suggestion, meaning that he can give anyone a short command that they are compelled to follow.
Cyrus has all the makings of a villain, but in actuality he is very neutral. He just wants to have a good time unbothered. He uses his powers mostly to get randos to leave him alone. (Randos like Arley and Kier, who are sent by Cordia to recruit Cyrus for Orion. It takes a while.)
Evelyn—
Evelyn (AKA Evie) was born in the Victorian Era, to a rich father. With money and good looks, she was often pursued by men wishing to court and marry her. She was disinterested in all of them. She preferred to spend her time reading and studying. Evelyn loved to learn, but she also loved a good romance or fantasy to sweep her off her feet.
Enter Cordia, who spent her Victorian days posing as a man. They had a passionate love affair, until Cordia made a sudden exit from Evelyn’s life.
Many years later, Evelyn awakens in the afterlife as an angel. When she and Cordia meet again, it is as equals and business partners.
She is now working as a librarian/an archivist. She also boxes, because she likes to feel strong.
Marcy—
Marcy is a thotty rave twink. They love music, they love neons, and they love to flirt. Marcy is very enthusiastic, and they are a little bit in love with basically everyone. They flirt constantly, and are not shy with physical affection. They like to do drugs and make out and they’re happy to do that with pretty much anyone who’s willing.
Marcy is also a celestial. Their powers allow them to control their personal gravity. They can jump really high, and come down hard, among other things! They mostly use it to help themself go fast. They used to be in roller derby! And they still love to skate.
(ps they have thighs for days and an ass that wont quit. thank u)
Other:
Bonnie Briary—
My newest oc! She belongs to a world where monsters are real, but hidden. Monsters aren’t super common, and they generally avoid integration with human society. (The setting is also a blend of modern + victorian fantasy. Think Lemony Snicket ambiguity.)
Bonnie is shy, sweet, and curious. She likes to study plants in particular. Her style of choice is cottagecore/fairycore blend. She has a garden that she loves very much.
Faust (belongs to tovomiel on ig), is a trash punk gargoyle monster, who for some reason has decided he likes Bonnie. He teases her relentlessly and loooooves to make her flustered. The catch is, he’s too shy to make a move beyond teasing and the occasional kiss. Bonnie, sweet as she is, is dying for him to stop leaving her hanging. Shenanigans ensue.
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carnoshin · 5 years ago
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Slashers With A Magical Girl S/O
Prompt(s) provided by @galaxy-of-pastels, based off of Puella Magi Madoka Magica. I was in the fandom when I was younger, so excuse the length!!! 
((I know the cut won’t work on mobile, yet again, so I’m also gonna tag this as “long post.” soz))
(Also. Side-note that I think is funny: technically, all you need to become a magical “””girl””” is human emotions, so. Technically. These boys could make a wish. Too bad I can’t draw men, this seems like it would be fun to do;;;)
Jason
You probably assume that the famous “Jason Voorhees of Camp Blood” is a witch, so that’s how you end up there. Maybe you still have some hope left in you, maybe you’re trying to claim the territory.
Obviously, you’re surprised when the infamous Jason is... Well, he’s just himself. And he’s surprised when you walk off being gored. It does some serious corruption to your soul gem, but you’ve been through worse-- that’s what being a magical girl is, simple enough: not fun and seriously harming.
((As for the general relationship and the specific questions, lol))
Usually, in the Madoka universe, magical girls do not age unless spurned by their transformation (Godoka seems to be a few years older than usual Madoka, for example. Also, there’s a wish that basically splits someone into two people in the manga: it’s transformative, is what I’m getting at). If you are chronologically an adult and pass for an adult, you probably turned later in your teen years. 
Once you make your wish, your body is essentially dead: you’re a ghost possessing your preserved corpse.
Jason relates to that on a certain level, but he’s also vaguely worried about the fact that he is rotting. It becomes a very “monstrous alien or beautiful corpse” situation, if you’re familiar with that saying-- both are psychologically terrifying, but the one people prefer says something about them. That monstrous aspect is part of what drew you two together.
He’s caught off-guard by the idea that you could just. Disappear forever? Only leaving behind destruction and despair? Given the fact that you’re with him, he’s vaguely terrified what your Labyrinth could be like. He wonders if you would hurt him-- he deeply wants you to be able to come back to him, if you ever reach that point of corruption. (And no, he doesn’t care about the consequences.)
You have to leave fairly often to find grief seeds and he insists you leave when he “has to” commit his occasional massacre, in case it corrupts your gem even more.
Technically, only magical girls or kyubey can enter the witch’s labirynth without assistance. Everyone else is affected by either suicidal thoughts or illness. At first, it doesn’t strike him as odd: it’s just a group of teens coming up in the middle of summer, it’s not rare at all. But he finds himself being a bit more reckless than usual-- he’s practically making himself known at this point, no doubt as to whether or not he’s an urban legend.
(I would sincerely hope you don’t bring him into the labirynth: are you trying to get your mans killed?)
Most magical girls can go beyond their fully corrupted gem. (It’s implied that Homura never uses a grief seed after she gets herself set “right,” simply by supressing her sadness.) So if you come back from a fight and you’re particularly quiet, it can be even more stressing on your end when he tries to comfort you-- that release of emotion is what forms a witch, after all. Giving a matter of fact “I almost died” and leaving it at that is your best bet.
 If you became a witch, he’d feel so... Guilty? He’d probably be there to watch the grief seed “hatch” and might get caught in the resulting chaos-- emotion is a very strong thing with magical girls, so if you have lots of emotions for him... He could get sucked in. Once you are slain he just. Sits there. In the same place you were when he last saw you. The quiet of the house, the fact that all your things are still there... It just wrecks him.
(Lmao, did you think a Madoka post was gonna be happy...? Nah.)
Bubba
Again, you are probably there in the assumption that a witch is in the area. Most magical girls ditch Kyubey after finding out what he did to them, so you’re left trying to find them on your own-- not impossible, but certainly harder than just following the little rabbit-puppy-cat bastard. Witches do spread around violence-prone areas, so it’s not a terrible stretch of the imagination.
There very well might be a witch in the area. Though witches can move around, if you catch one early it’s likely to be in an abandoned place-- where magical girls tend to hang around. And, sure enough, there are lots of abandoned places around the Sawyer property. It’s not the best place to set up a base camp, however.
You probably wouldn’t be terribly friendly with the Sawyer family altogether-- probably just Bubba: his secret friend who comes by at night to talk with him. His “imaginary” girlfriend, if you will-- his brothers certainly call you that, at least.
Bubba doesn’t quite get all of the stuff around witches and rumors and familiars and all that. He thinks the soul gem is quite pretty: he can sort of see the resemblance between you and it.
He’s the most likely to take off with your soul gem on accident. It’s really pretty and, since it’s yours, he very much sees it as something precious-- not in the fact that it’s literally your soul so much as “this belongs to my lover. I keep it on me to remind me of them.” So you can see why that would be an issue.
There are a few events where he finds a grief seed nearby his house-- witch’s gravitate towards violence and death, so the Sawyer house isn’t an unlikely place for them to go. You frequently tell him to make sure his family is healthy and he starts to be a bit more “doting” around his family than usual, though it makes them upset at him.
He knows what your soul gem looks like. So he recognizes your grief seed immediately. And then he just... Loses time. He “wakes up” thirty minutes later, dangerously close to the woodchipper in the backyard. He remembers that you told him if he ever lost time like that, he should make sure he’s safe-- that his family is safe and relatively health. And after he does, just like you told him to, he remembers where he saw the little silver and black trinket that looked like your soul gem. And it’s just gone.
It becomes a regular part of his daily schedule to check over by the place he would meet you-- you on the opposite side of the fence that denoted the Sawyer property. You never come back, but... He’s certainly keeping his hopes up.
:(
Brahms
The Heelshire mansion is a good place for a base. It’s only a twenty minute drive from a major city; being an older magical girl, you have a type of authority that the other girls succeed to, so there’s very few territorial issues; there’s a hospital ten minutes away; no one ever comes by, so you can do as much magical stuff as you like without worry of being exposed. Etcetera.
Since your magic is so very advanced, as an “adult” magical girl, you probably end up making a kind of... Temporal space to disappear into. This is the main thing that interests Brahms about you: you enter a room-- one that he can see into and enter, if he so pleases-- but you’re never in the room. For a while, he considers that he might be going insane. Or perhaps you’re a ghost-- things he never believed in, especially because most assume he is a ghost.
He becomes terribly interested with you-- not even in a romantic sense, because he does have a kind of fear towards you: he truly thinks you’re a demon or a spectre-- perhaps a ghost from the witch hunts way back when, as you occasionally mention witches when you have a visitor outside the house.
He takes note of a type of creature outside the house that you seem to absolutely hate. He assumes it’s some strange toy, as he can just barely hear it speaking. One day, it mentions that someone else is in the house and before he knows how to react, you’re searching through the house with something shiny in hand. You never find him: he’s not a witch or a magical girl or anything of the sort, so he doesn’t show up on your radar.
When you go to sleep at night, he is so very careful about taking that lovely gem you seem to have. He takes it back to his room and leaves it there for further inspection. For the next two days, you don’t move even once. He even gets so bold as to check your pulse, shake your body to try to wake you. And then he hears that strange creature that you seem to hate speaking to him: he hasn’t the slightest clue how it got into the house, but he listens to it and returns your soul gem. He sits by your bedside waiting for you to wake up. Needless to say, you’re quite frightened when you do and see a man you’ve never seen before watching over you.
He listens very intently about your life as a magical girl. He’s seen you do such strange things. It only takes one single transformation-- to him it seems to only take a single blink, though you do go through the whole process-- to convince him. He’s not terribly afraid of you turning to a witch--- if you’re unhappy with him, it serves you right. (He... Sucks...)
The thing is, he won’t let you leave very often to get grief seeds. You’re always just on the verge of becoming a witch. If you’re lucky, you can convince some of the younger girls to give you “extra” grief seeds. They suggest you run from him-- plenty of them are homeless; it’s a norm for magical girls.
If you do become a witch, it probably happens in the manor. He accosts the girls who came to destroy your labirynth as soon as everything is over-- he’s awake and alert immediately after. The girls aren’t so kind as to give him your grief seed-- you were extremely difficult to beat, so they can’t just let the grief seed grow and destroy once again: you’d only get stronger and more dangerous.
He gets so lonely, so depressed. He doesn’t eat. He hardly sleeps. He becomes a husk of a man. He doesn’t die from grief, however, no. He has to go through the process of grief. All alone.
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whyimmathere · 6 years ago
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CLASSIC FICS
The incestuous courtship of the antichrist's bride (Sam/Dean, nc-17, crack-horror): Sam is trying to become the Antichrist in order to save the world. {dowload ✿}
The firefly that loved Metallica (Sam/Dean, R, set post-AHBL): In which Sam has a bottle full of soul. 
Moths on the Mirror (Dean/OMC + Dean/Sam, nc-17): There's something wrong in Red Haven Hospital for the Criminally Insane, but no one's going to listen to a psychopath like Dean Winchester. {dowload ✿}
Flying Weight (Sam/Dean + Dean/OMC, nc-17): Sam wakes after being soulless for three years to discover that Dean and his relationship with him have undergone some serious changes. {dowload ✿}
Dark Side of the Moon (Sam/Dean, nc-17) {dowload ✿}
Couples' Counseling (Sam/Dean, nc-17): in which they get just that.
Fumbling in the Dark: Love Advice For the Romantically Impaired (Sam/Dean, nc-17): true love is really blind. {dowload ✿} 
Sing Your Hymns Like Angels In Defeat (Sam/Dean, nc-17): And Lucifer fell for a second time with the burning brilliance of a star. The Flare shone in his wake, and darkness fell upon the land. {dowload ✿}
The Little Spoon (Sam/Dean, nc-17): To his horror, Sam discovers that he's a stealth!snuggler. {dowload ✿}
Top This (Sam/Dean, nc-17): Dean's sure he's a top. Only problem is, Sam's pretty sure that's his job. {dowload ✿}
Hush (Sam/Dean, nc-17): Motel walls are thin... {dowload ✿}
Fairytale Life (Sam/Dean + Dean/OFC, R ): There are no happily ever afters... {dowload ✿}
Camdon Inn (Sam/Dean, nc-17): In the backwoods of Northern Michigan, Sam and Dean are on the trail of what they think might be the area's fabled 'Dog Man.' What they find instead in the small town of Silver Lake is a suspicious sheriff, a shady innkeeper, a closed mouth town and a lot more than they bargained for when the supposed overly large wolf that they were hunting starts hunting them back. And, much to Dean's horror, he can no longer seem to keep his hands off of Sam. {dowload ✿}
The Bright Lights of Disturbia (Sam/Dean, nc-17): Not all of our scars are worn on the outside...
God Made Boston on a Wet Sunday (Sam/Dean, nc-17): Sam and Dean live in an apartment in Boston while John is away on a hunt. Money is scarce, so Dean picks up a particularly slutty part-time job. Sam finds out.
Sleepwalking Back Again (Sam/Dean, nc-17): “Wish ‘Verse. Spoilers for 2x20, and very vaguely for season 3. Warnings for established incest, adultery, angst, smoking, dramatic irony, and the complete absence of a happy ending.”
Soul-Eater, Death-Dealer Sam/Dean, nc-17): “A grieving Dean is pulled into an alternate universe where a much more hardened, cold Sam is working to get his Dean out of hell. Though Dean doesn’t want to go back to his lonely world, he aids Sam in his dark quest, a Sam torn between the brother he’s fighting to save and the one right in front of him.”
Not Time’s Fool (Sam/Dean, nc-17): “A story in 21 parts, featuring an Ancient Greek curse, an unexpected metamorphosis, adventures in pool sharking, numerous shots of tequila, a nun outfit, zombies, angels, demons, kidnappings, startling discoveries about old acquaintances, massage, a game of strip poker, girl-on-girl action, girl-on-boy action, and boy-on-boy action.”
How many floors to realize (Sam/Dean, nc-17): “AU from the end of It’s A Terrible Life, in which Zachariah decides to keep stringing them along a little while longer, because damn if they aren’t somewhat entertaining, right?”
Supercross (Sam/Dean, nc-17): “Set in a world where competitive team stunt biking shows – explosive entertainment performances full of tricks, talent, fireworks and music – dominate the world of freestyle motocross biking, this story follows Sam and Dean Winchester as they deal with their lives, bikes, flips, tricks – and love.”
Your Fields So Green Can Whisper Tales of Gore (Sam/Dean, nc-17): Dean is 100% everything Sam’s been unintentionally searching for.Sam is 100% everything Dean’s been secretly hoping would find him.
ANTIBODY (Sam/Dean nc17):  AU where the boys run the town morgue - Dean is the pathologist and Sam is his assistant.
Do Roses Know Their Thorns Can Hurt? (Sam/Dean, nc17): Dean needs a new body part and Sam doesn't cope well with any of it.(A very AU!AU borrowing the lovely idea from Time Is on My Side - somewhat Burton inspired and super unserious.)
Almost at Home (Sam/Dean, nc17):  Sam graduates from high school in early June in rural Tennessee. He and Dean start the summer with an all-nighter of celebration; the day after, while both fight hangovers, John calls to assign them their first hunt by themselves. They go to northern Virginia to investigate the homicidal ghost of a dangerous escapee of a high-security prison and mental institution whose MO is beheading people with an axe while wearing a filthy, grotesque bunny suit. Then throughout the long, happy summer, as they move around tackling a series of minor hunts together, John's absences grow longer. Sam and Dean explore their relationship as it burgeons into something they've both been craving and which neither of them regrets.
Suite!Verse (Sam/Dean, nc17): “ To save Dean from going to Hell, Sam has voluntarily embraced the role of the Anti-Christ and triggered Armageddon. As the world burns around them and demons enslave the human population, an increasingly demonic Sam begins to chip away at Dean’s will through alternating acts of of sex and violence. Caught between lust and fear, Dean struggles with the hope that his brother can be redeemed and slips further and further into the Stockholm Syndrome. As the series progresses, Dean loses more and more of his agency and personality, leaving the reader to wonder what, if anything, of Dean will remain at the end.” [WIP, very dark content]
We were Twenty (Sam/Dean, nc17):  It's sunny the day he buries his brother .
Fine Wonderful Things (Sam/Dean, nc17):  Sam doesn't want to deal with what happened in Cold Oak, but he can't ignore it anymore when he and Dean investigate a murderous spirit in New Mexico.
Rip us out at the seams  (Sam/Dean, nc17):  Hookerfic that leads to first-time wincest, set through season 3 and into season 4. Title from Heather Nova. 
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