#he will fist fight hades

[r0-boat]

Ok what about the kings rut headcanons? Please please please please please please 🥺

You asked and you shall receive!!

Whb Kings Rut Headcannons

Cw: darker than I anticipated, breeding, biting (hard biting like drawing blood), mentions of cannibalism, yandere behavior, Demons becoming more primal in rut, especially asmodeus, free use, Dubcon/noncon

Satan

If you didn't think he would get any more violent. You're dead wrong with all this extra testosterone coursing through his veins. All he wants to do is fight things. With a legion of loyal subordinates who also want to fight and destroy, Gehenna's streets become the purge; all their rage and stress are released at once.

And they like this! Starting brawls in the streets, clashing horns and gnashing their teeth as they wrestle each other with their bare hands. Demons are challenging Satan for his claim on you bonus points if they get beaten up in the process.

But Satan wants more. He wants to fight something and feel like he's in danger, with no weapons, guns, or flamethrowers, just him and his bare hands going against something much stronger than himself. He wants to prove his strength to you and take you after winning a brutal fight. To smear his blood and semen onto you, claiming you as his.

The other kings are the only ones who can equal his strength, either in magic or in muscle. His temper somehow becomes shorter as he is itching to jump across the table and fist-fight Mammon.

His subordinates fear their King will hurt you, but it's the opposite. He's so gentle and needy that he whines for your attention. Dragging his tongue across the nape of your neck and burying his face to smell your sweet scent. Spinning you down with all of his strength, wrapping a muscular arm around you before harshly grinding his hips into you to reach as deep as possible. Unless he becomes provoked... Then that's a whole other story. You won't be sitting right for weeks.

Mammon

You are his possession as much as he views himself as yours. And he takes great care of all of his possessions. But you seem not too keen about being his... It's not like it's your choice to make anymore. Humans are fickle and don't know what they truly want. He can give you everything. So why haven't you submitted to him yet? Mammon becomes more pushy with his advances. He may be a pacifist, but he knows how much stronger he is than you are and is not used to the word no.

Of course, Mammon will worship you like any other night when the two of you get frisky, but you notice that his touch becomes more and more rough, from gentle caresses to harsh, grabbing and handling you like a doll. He not only likes to take care of his possessions but also uses them to their fullest extent. A demon of greed is still a demon of greed, And you are his favorite toy by far. Part of him wants to display you for all to see. Another part of him wants to drag you off into his bedroom chambers for you never to be seen again.

Maybe he sees you more as an exotic pet or a commodity. No matter how much he tells you that you own him, all demons are slave to their instincts when rut season is here. With the deep urge to mark you He will not hold back to how many teeth marks and hickeys he'll put on your body.

Once he feels those squeezing velvet walls around his cock he will never let you go. His body will quickly overwhelm you as he loses himself to pleasure. He will dress you in the finest silk gold and jewels. Then soaks his cum all over it. He doesn't care The price will probably go up with his seed seeped into the fabric.

Leviathan

In Hades, Few nobles show how much their rut affects them because that usually means feeding into their king's jealousy. Especially when they just so happen to have the same rut as Leviathan's

During this time, no one looks or talks to you in his presence. Mammon thinks about locking you away forever. Leviathan would actually do it.

I think Rut Leviathan becomes borderline yandere as he becomes more open about how much he wants you. Murmuring scary thoughts out loud of how he wants to lock you in a nice cage, throw away the key. Or cut a little piece off to always have with him. Or threaten to kill people close to you. All the while, he's balls deep inside you with little care of how fast he's bucking his hips (very wholesome, very romantic 💞)

He is hanging on by a thread, and all it takes is seeing you with another for him to lose it. And once he does, He will fuck you without mercy, drill his hips with every ounce of his being until the two of you can't think of anything other than each other. If he has to break your mind with his dick, he will.

Needy and petty, willing to do anything to get just a sliver of that attention. The usually refined, elegant demon becomes nothing but a moaning, drooling beast. He will fill you up. You will be claimed.

Beelzebub

That ferocious sexual hunger is tripled. No matter how much you seem to satisfy and he just wants more more more more more. And keep in mind this man has clones, too. He will let go, and his clones will swarm you.

He bites; if it weren't for his other clones tending and touching you, distracting the sharp pain of his teeth and breaking your skin with pleasure, you would be screaming in pain. It's honestly a miracle how he didn't lose control and consume you. Only because he finds the taste of your juices even sweeter, once he's between your legs he is never coming back up. A hand vigorously stroking his cock as he tries to ring you out and suck you dry. Coke sing you to cum on his tongue again and again until you physically can't give anymore. And he'll still want more after that.

Having a more sensitive nose than any other demon in hell, He is drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He'll smell you from anywhere. No matter how far you are, he'll still find you. He'll bury his nose in the name of your neck and start rolling his tongue across your flesh and wanting just a taste of you—the taste of something he'll never have.

It's almost as if he loses control of his powers since his clones don't disappear after he finishes. They stay with you, tend to you, touch you, fuck you, suck you, Constantly until their rut ends and their control returns. His dick will not leave you not. Even if you leave to go to the bathroom, he'll jump on you as if he hasn't seen you in years. He'll even be inside you when you're trying to eat or drink water, just slow grinding as he promised you he'd give you a break. He's trying to hold back.

At the end of his rut, he'll get super hungry since he rarely eats during his rut because all he can think about is fucking you. His subordinates and His people worry that he might lose control and eat you, so food will always be provided at his convenience when in a rut.

Lucifer

Obsessive dangerously obsessive. His angel body is not used to the intense hormonal heat that is a demon rut. He was not expecting His rut to come so strong... It has to be because of your influence. He tries so hard to fight back but all he could think about is you.

He could barely control himself and his body around you as is now it seems like his rut is trying to get him to mate with you to claim, punish and worship you. It's like two sides of him are fighting with each other. To bully you till you scream and cry for him. Another part of him screams to to praise and take care of you.

He punishes and overwhelms you to the point you cry. All the while, he praises and worships those tears that fall down your cheeks. Kissing them away as he fucks you harder, muttering about how well you're taking him, and you look so divine like this, like you were made to be nothing else but a cock sleeve.

Lucifer has been getting the increasing desire to learn every little bit about you put you under a microscope and examine every little hair on your head. To memorize every little twitch in your body and squeal you make. To learn what reaction you make when he tilts the angle of his cock just a right inside you.

He may or may not have a secret binder filled with detailed facts about everything you do or about you in general. But he always goes back to during his rut either to fill out more or read to himself to.... Relieve stress. His rats would have been a lot worse if it weren't for this binder so you're welcome... I can't imagine what the other Kings will do to get their hands on this.

Belphegor

It's cold and you're so warm... Would you be a doll and be his little cock warmer? His toys are nothing like the real thing. Sadly he can't sleep and masturbate at the same time and his wet dreams just make him wake up wanting more so why don't you stay here for a while and be there so he could use you as he pleases.

In meetings? He's snug right inside you! You're trying to sleep? Well he just woke up any needs to start thrusting right now, He's laying down and reading? Now don't be shy start grinding...

The farther in his right cycle the more active he becomes no longer are you just warming his cock now he's starting to grind into you. Feeling your walls milk him murmuring how you're his favorite toy.

Belphegor in rut is very needy. You can't leave for a second without him trying to follow you in some way. He can't bear to part with that warm tight hold of yours. Every time you try to move away from him he whines and cries out in displeasure.

I wouldn't try pushing your luck if I were you. If you tease him anymore he'll just flip you over and go crazy. Fucking you back into submission showing you who's a really in charge of you. If you keep misbehaving he's going to have Beleth join in and trust me you don't want that. He's not as nice as Belphegor is.

Asmodeus

Losing all control, He is no longer a demon at this point now a feral beast wanting one thing. A Mate. Not just anyone though... No not just anyone will do, He wants you... He wants you in the most primal way, drill you into the soil the both of you howling and pleasure. And of course since it is the season to feel lust his power is significantly stronger to the point where if he were to escape all of hell would Make people have orgies in his path. For the safety of you and frankly everyone else

So, at the start of the demon rut season, They chain Asmodeus up and lock him deep underneath the Abaddon red prison. If you still want to visit him that's your death wish but the guards think perhaps maybe you can calm him down since his rut only had gotten worse since he came back to hell.

Asmodeus is now completely naked His form in the middle of his human form and beast form as he struggles to maintain control. His smile widens as you see. His nostrils flare at your scent as he books his hips, his cock with a swollen knot at the base.

However, if you didn't visit him... He would break out and find you... Hunt you down like a hungry animal. There is no high; there is no How are you? There's just chasing and breeding. He looks at you with wide, unblinking eyes, stalking closer, ready to pounce. A beast with a sadistic thrill of the chase so much so that he'd rather toy with his prey before taking you completely. He'd rather slowly make you known of his presence that he draws near and you better find an escape plan before he gets you.

You better pray that you are not out in hell alone at night. Any other time, he would love having the kings underneath him, but now His instinct screams that they will take you from him. He will fight them with his bare hands and prove to you that he's the better male and hopes you'll choose him, give your body to him, and let him mark you as his mate.

[zarnzarn]

The doors to Olympus are sturdy and strong, given everyone's preferences for drama and slamming said doors open and sending them cracking into the wall whenever the opportunity arises. Which is why it's a surprise when they creak open during the once-a-decade pantheon meeting; less so because no entity worth their salt would take so long to open the doors, and more so because everyone who is anyone is already there.

But if everyone is being honest with themselves- which no one is, usually- these gatherings are boring enough that the bland conversation is dropped immediately in favour of craning their necks to catch a glimpse of whatever is coming to relieve them of their boredom.

When the doors finally open however, several of the pantheon murmur in surprise.

"Odysseus," Athena whispers, wide-eyed as she pushes herself off her throne to her feet. It is him- in the king's garb he was buried in but the face he has when he reached home, hair till the shoulders and speckled with grey, face oddly blank. His feet are transparent.

"What are you doing here, sceptre?" Poseidon booms, hair the color of a stormy sea. Zeus, beside him, looks reserved, observing the ghost with something approaching curiosity- eyes flicking to the lightning scars on his daughter's face and back. "Your time has long passed, and Hades-"

"It is a temporary agreement," Odysseus says curtly, barely sparing him a glance as he approaches his patron. "Athena."

Her armour clinks as she steps forward and the gods all twitch, trading glances. Owls are silent creatures- to have her aspect so affected to make noise was... uneasy to say the least. She even holds herself different than usual, something like confused delight shining in her eyes. "How did you-"

"Did you sleep with my wife?"

The throne room is silent. Several jaws drop.

Athena straightens back up, blinking in surprise. She looks a bit shifty, some of the nymphs closest whisper to each other, which- well, almost every single god present owed some part of their existence to the mere story of Odysseus loving his wife.

Would he fight his own patron goddess over it in front of Mount Olympus, though? He certainly was unbalanced enough; Athena herself looked rather uncertain of her odds, even though-

"Are you addled in death, King of Ithaka?" Artemis drawls, looking amused. "Did you forget that your own patron is celibate? Whatever rumor you-"

"No, I-" Athena says suddenly, shifting her spear to her other hand. "I did."

Artemis chokes on her breath and several assorted divine beings gasp in shock and the rest shouting for explanations, although everyone is nearly drowned out by Aphrodite's loud, "WHAT?"

Odysseus inhales sharply and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I cannot believe you."

"She asked-" Athena starts, only to be drowned out by the din of various beings screeching and shouting about the scandal.

"ATHENA!" Hera hisses, peacock tail fanning behind her sharply as she pushes herself up. "Explain yourself!"

Athena half-turns to face her, face creased in a frown. "Mother, I-"

"LET ME REPHRASE!" Odysseus cuts in loudly, and the shouting settles down into silence. He walks to his patron, eyes blazing. "I cannot believe," he throws his clenched fists wide as he growls the last word, "-you took Penelope to bed-" Athena surprisingly stays still as he reaches her, mouth falling open as he grabs her by the chiton to yank her down, uncaring of the gasps of horror from all around as he snarls, "-before you ever kissed me."

And then Odysseus grabs Athena by the face roughly and kisses her.

This time Aphrodite's shriek cannot be escaped by anyone.

"Aphrodite, please," Zeus says a few moments later, wincing as his throne reforms around him, stained oddly pink. Quite a few minor entities have discorporated, and the ones nearest to her are still trying to regenerate their hearing. "Control yourself."

Their eyes land back on where Athena has dropped her spear- dropped her spear, Ares in the corner seems to be having some minor hysteria over this, well warranted- and is also on the floor, still being thoroughly kissed by that insufferable, mannerless hero of hers, perched on her stomach to reach. Zeus inhales in fury, Poseidon close behind him as the shock wears off, lightning crackling around his fingers as he opens his mouth to shout- of all the indignities-

"If you two ruin this for me," Aphrodite thunders, warping in front of them and glaring. "I will make you both regret it."

Both gods visibly blanch at the threat, taken aback for one brief moment. Threats from Aphrodite are far worse than any of her more violent siblings, at the end of the day.

Zeus visibly gathers himself just as Athena's helmet clatters to the floor, and he gains a second wind immediately, eye twitching as he spreads a hand to the spectacle in the middle of the hall. "WHAT MANNER OF DISRESPECT IS THIS? TO BARGE INTO OUR MEETING AND THROW ONE OF THE OLDEST GODDESSES TO THE FLOOR LIKE A COMMON WENCH-"

"Zeus," Hera says quietly. Everyone falls silent, although it's not quite enough to stop the two tangled together on the ground. She clears her throat, which finally seems to get through to Athena, who had finally seemed to have gotten over her shock enough to reach out, hands hovering over Odysseus hesitantly. Still, at the noise she seems to remember herself, pushing herself up on an elbow and dislodging him enough to break their necking. He pouts at her, but Athena's eyes are too glazed over to notice, heaving for breath.

Hera opens her mouth to speak, crown manifesting on her brow as she steps in front of the throne, but closes it as the door rattles again.

This time, the spectre shimmers with a faint hint of scales that comes with a freshwater nymph's heritage and excited whispers starved for drama explode across the room as the Queen of Ithaka steps into the room, skirts hitched in her hand and panting as if she'd been running.

"Your Graces," She bows respectfully before entering, Spartan princess through and through, until she catches sight of her husband and Athena, the former of whom seems to have taken the opportunity to start kissing the wisdom goddess again, fingers in her curls.

"What are you doing?" She snaps, rushing over. The entire courtroom holds its breath. She slaps her husband upside the head, making him yelp and move back to shoot her a betrayed look. Athena looks even further dazed than before, cheeks red. "Argos has more manners than you! No wonder Lady Athena wanted nothing to do with you- ah, hello, darling, by the way."

"Penelope," Athena murmurs hoarsely, and the Queen of Ithaka leans down to kiss her as well.

Odysseus chuckles, then jumps with everyone else as Hera slams a hand down on the throne elegantly, cracking it to the base.

"Ah, goddess-" He says, clambering off Athena to bow.

"Silence," Hera interrupts, holding up a hand, eyes cold. "You will not say anything to me apart from an explanation. My agreement for your release from Ogygia was due to the assurance that your marriage was one of the truest I have ever witnessed, conveyed by Athena herself when bartered with all of us to let you go. Tell me, was it a ploy? Because from the disgraceful looks of it, this seems to not be the case in the slightest."

Odysseus frowns, face twisting in confusion. "Athena bartered with...?" He turns to look at his patron, who stares back, unspeaking. His eyes flicker to the lightning scar over her right eye as Penelope traces it with horrified eyes and a gentle thumb, and understanding seems to dawn.

For a moment, rage seems to fill him, glaring with a hatred towards Zeus that everyone whispered later wasn't met by the god king with anger, but a flicker of remorse- before he visibly throws it away behind Athena's old smile and bows.

"God-queen," He says formally, gracefully. Hera twitches a bit, and they'll all talk later about how odd it was to so clearly see Athena's younger mannerisms in the man, down to the curl of the letters. "My marriage to Penelope has never been false, never been broken, this I promise you." He takes Penelope's hand and squeezes it for emphasis, and she raises them as acknowledgement. "But... can you not argue that Athena has been part of our marriage all this time? From its start, where she advised me on courting and her on what to look for, to the twenty years she spent with both of us- me on the battlefield and Penelope in the court; to say nothing of how she helped raise our son and lived in our palace in the days after. And is she not so unbearably beautiful that even my Penelope couldn't wait-" He shoots a glare at her, which Penelope returns with a smile. "-when the chance was presented? How can you fault us for disgrace, after being so long apart from our wife?"

Hera raises both eyebrows at the impudence, the kind of disbelieving expression that hides a warning to tread carefully. "So you claim to be both married to Pallas Athena?"

"In every way that matters except legality," Odysseus says, fearlessly. He is dead, after all, what much can you do to a shade that they didn't already put him through when alive. He is sort of worried about Athena, though, as they both help her back to her feet, Penelope busy whispering compliments and updates and endearments in turn- she's not usually one to be quiet in face of a problem.

Hera tilts her head. "Ah, but you see. I need the legality, if I am to finally-" A helpless, excited smile pulls at her lips once, twice, before unfolding into a bright grin, peacock tails unfolding to their full wingspan. "-finally arrange for a marriage for my eldest daughter who has not once- oh finally, I can hardly believe this day has come-"

"I do not like the way you grabbed her, Sacker of Troy," Ares steps forward as Hera starts ranting half to herself, half to an equally loud assemblage of joyful entities about wedding arrangements, eyes narrowed.

Odysseus barks an incredulous, loud laugh, gesturing to Athena with a slightly crazed look in his eyes. "This lady has broken- and I do not exaggerate- every single bone in my body before I saw my sixteenth year. I have punched her a hundred times in the face when she taught me how to fight. We'll survive, thanks."

"That is fair," Ares steps back, hands raised.

"What duties will you provide as spouses, Ithakan Queen?" Hestia questions, stepping forward.

"Oh, the same we did when we were living," Penelope huffs a laugh. "Keep her busy, make her laugh, be of mild frustration to her, love her well, worship her-"

"I do not. Need to know," Hestia closes her eyes and raises a hand to cut her off, stepping back. Around them, the din catches speed and volume as no further objections arise, excitement spilling into the air.

"What is happening?" Athena says faintly, looking around as if she was just waking up.

"-oh, and we can get out the decor once more! Hebe, Aphrodite, loves, do you remember where we kept the fountains-"

"-finally, a reason to celebrate! Call them all out of hiding-"

"-can't believe this is finally happening, oh sister, what songs should we-

"Why am I getting married," Athena says with much more alarm and horror. She turns to Odysseus and shakes him by the shoulder, eyes wild. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"How is this nothing? Do you have any idea the headache-"

"Athena, sweetheart, will you consider changing into that beautiful piece you made for the ceremony?"

Creakily, she turns her head to Hera, disbelief pasted across her face. "Mother," She says slowly. "They are both dead."

"Oh, I'll make a deal with Hades or something, you hush!" Aphrodite leans forward and snaps, before her irritation melts back into a manic joy. "Oh, what paint shall we do?"

Paint, Athena mouths, looking afraid for possibly the first time since her conception.

Penelope laughs and tugs on Athena's hand to make her turn, tucking dishevelled curls behind her ear. She wonders if the goddess knows how beautiful she is when she's flustered. "Take us away," She whispers. On Athena's other side, Odysseus leans against their patron with a besotted, helpless smile as he stares up at her, her helmet and spear in hand. She'd missed Athena like a limb, missed her deep laugh at night when they'd discussed the day's court, the dry jokes, the hands over hers as she weaved- but Odysseus wasn't himself without her, happy though they were in Hades' lands together, all of them.

"I'm-" Athena wavers, then looks around once more at all the excited screaming, something unreadable flashing in her eyes. Almost against her will, her eyes fall to Zeus, who is sitting silently and staring back at her. Poseidon looks like he still wants to start a fight, but clearly by his wary looks below can tell he will be heavily outnumbered by the overexcited crowd to not try, but Zeus just stares back at her, face blank of any emotion.

"We ask you formally this time," King Odysseus says, walking in front of her to take her attention away, holding onto her hand. His voice has strength in it, drawing the eyes of the murmuring crowd, but he's deaf to it as he stares up at her.

"Will you be our wife?" Queen Penelope asks, joining him, watching their beautiful patron shudder for breath she does not need as her eyes flick to one of them and then the other.

"Yes," She whispers and cheers erupt all across Mount Olympus.

"Finally!" Odysseus complains, and then pulls her down once more to kiss her, all three of them fading at the edges as one of the generous gods present there- who seems to realize that they're not very inclined to stop anytime soon- thankfully teleports them away into a nice room with a large bed.

"Finally," He whispers as he breaks apart to lay her down, cupping her face, voice heavy with the longing of a full lifetime and more. Penelope circles to the head of the bed and starts undoing Athena's braid, staring at them both lovingly.

Later the ones closest will murmur, as the silhouettes faded away, that tears had slipped from proud Pallas Athena's eyes as she placed one hand against Odysseus' cheek, trembling.

"I missed you," She will whisper back, and all three of them fade away to their own story, yet to be made.

[clownzaf]

I know that people love to headcanon Tim as a child of Athena, I personally like to headcanon him as child of Hades due to his similarities with Nico and the fact that dead seems to follow that kid like a motherfucker but never actually reach HIM.

But hear me out.

Tim as a child of Dionysus. And he gets claimed during the Bruce-quest.

When he was in Gotham monsters were a usual thing. You never knew that they were there for your godly blood, you just thought that they were things created by pollution or something like that. And when he became Robin fighting things that wanted to kill you while saying weird things was more usual than a hug (not that that was a hug standard for Tim).

But then everyone started dying. His parents, Kon, Bart, Steph, BRUCE. Everyone. Every. One.

And Tim…Tim couldn’t seem to reach madness. I mean YEAH he wasn’t doing great by any standard, but he knew madness, he grew up in madness, and he wasn’t going mad.

The cloning was just a treat.

And during the Bruce-quest, everyone thought he was crazy, he was casted away because everyone thought he was crazy CRAZY Tim can’t he crazy! He knows that! He knows that in his blood that going crazy isn’t a chance for him. He made everyone crazy when they were around him (hence Jason. He knew that Jason was mad at him from the start, but going near Tim lighted a flame inside him that Tim is sure isn’t completely Jason’s) but Tim couldn’t go crazy. He could ACT crazy. But never too serious.

And then, in the depths of Greece, he met his dad. His real dad.

He always knew that Jake wasn’t his dad. The blonde hair his mother forced him to dye since he was 5 and the purple eyes his father forced him to hide with contacts told him that. But Tim grew up looking up at Jack, even if Jack didn’t love him, he was the dad that decided to (figuratively) stay. And Tim loved him till death.

But when that man appeared, Tim knew, with only a moment of stares, that that man was his father. They talked a bit, too. The man knew about everything Tim was doing, and that creeped Tim out, but when the man made appear a glass of wine for Tim (and one side for himself) and Tim drank it, he knew what he was.

Something on the flavor, on the feeling. It was Tim. It was home. Something he hadn’t feel in a long time.

He spent the rest of the quest feeling sure that he would make it, because somewhere on the heavens his dad was looking out for him, he promised he was. And this time it wasn’t a figuratively sentimental bullshit. His dad was really helping on the heavens. And Tim was gonna make it.

He saw him again when the quest ended. He appeared in all of his godly glory while Tim was living in the nest. He opened a can of soda and sat on his couch like he wasn’t a man Tim has only met twice, but that was ok, because that was his dad, and he was choosing to visit him. (Also, he wasn’t going to say no to a literal GOD) .

He yapped for two hours about the kids at the camp his dad forced him to work at ( “HE IS SUCH AN A-HOLE SOMETIMES TIM YOU DONT UNDERSTAND-“) and the more he talked about that camp, the more invested Tim got. At the end of it the man, his dad, just looked at him in the eye and said “y’know if you were there we could do this more often. Yer a better listener than that centaur. Also, I think your brothers would like having you there”

He leaves immediately for camp after that. The family thinks Tim decided to leave them for not believing in him, so it’s a shock when he comes back after the summer being great with a sword and with a Tan his skin haven’t known before, not even after fighting crime during the hottest days on San Francisco, and he was happy, like actually happy. A kind of happy he never was with them.

Tim made friends there. He was friends with Annabeth, a girl from the Athena cabin, who honestly thought that Tim was one of them after they had a talk about strategies on the field and all that, and was about to fist fight Dionysus for claiming one of her brothers. She still called him brother, but now she understood that Tim was a Dionysus kid. And her boyfriend Percy. They talked all night about the weight of being a leader and having your people die without you being able to do anything. Percy talked about a boy named Ethan and two girls named Zoe and Bianca. Tim talked about Steph, Kon and Bart.

Tim told him about the Bruce-quest, and Percy told him about the time he was ready to fist fight a good to get his mother back from the underworld.

He also fully loved his brother. Pollux was great and made him feel welcomed to camp. They talked during lunch and Pollux showed him every single thing that made camp especial. He also teached him how to make fun of their dad without turning into a dolphin, so yeah. They got along like a house on fire.

He also made friends with a girl from the Aphrodite cabin. Her name is Drew. She was kind of an asshole and tried flirting with him, and THEY DID GET TOGETHER FOR A BIT, but after some time they decided they were better as friends. And friends they were. Best friend even.

He never told the Batfam any of this.

So after some months in Gotham there’s a cult going around calling themselves “Children of Dionysus” and doing atrocious things.

Duke walked in on Tim trashing the training room of the cave, and later on Jason walked in on Tim having his fourth bottle of wine.

Tim was FURIOUS. Not only that was disrespectful to his dad, but to his brother and himself too. He was going to pick every part of that little cult and trash it.

There he meets Bernard. Then they get on a relationship.

When a sathyr comes to take Bernard to camp Tim goes with him, excited to have his dad meeting his boyfriend.

Dionysus has never been more uncomfortable than when he had to claim his son’s boyfriend in front of him. It wasn’t that hard before! But now they had those things against incest on the human world and he knew this wouldn’t be pleasant to any of his sons.

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Whb nobles reacting to their ship coming true

When Paimon finds out that you're in a relationship with Satan, he squeels. He's not one to rub salt on the wounds of others (not often at least), but he would make a few posts goating about being right all along. Starts making plans for the wedding since that's the only reasonable step forward. Whenever you're not with Satan, you're with Paimon on a self-care/gossip day. He's very happy that his wingman act wasn't in vaine.

Eligos throws a party and he invites the entirety of Hell over. He has no decency, he would spam all the shipping forums with photos of you and Mammon. Don't bother reporting it for spam, he has 500 alt accounts. He personally sews you and Mammon's clothes for the party. The costumes look like that of people getting married, but Eligos doesn't see what the problem is. He gets into a fist fight with everyone that disaggred with him on the forums. Bimet is in the back betting on who wins the fist fight.

Foras' squeel is so high pichted that Hades will get noise complaints from Naberius about it. He is very happy to say the least. He will turn invisible and spy on you and Leviathan being cute together like a proud father. The relationship between you and his king is like his personal child, and he can't wait to watch it grow further. Finally mod Jjok has a free day without any complaints of doxxing.

When Amon gets the news, he's not even surprised. He always was under the impression that you and Beelzebub were dating (that's why he didn't persue you himself) so this is old news to him. Would invite himself to all your dates with Beelzebub so he can protect the two of you... as in get free food and be near his king. He'll be a lot more energetic after the fact, so much so that he might make a few visits to the people that still ship you with anyone else. After all, they are going against Avisos' one law, they must be punished in some way.

Gamigin gets so excited that he starts screaming and crying. Might even puke from excitement. He is the happiest out of all of the shippers. Finally, his brother Lucifer found someone that loves him as much as he loves them. This is the happiest day of his life and he can't stop crying while hugging the two of you. Would start calling you sibling MC and invite you to all the communal dinners in Paradise Lost. Would insist you call him and everyone in the country brother or sister. You're now part of the Paradise Lost familly and you'll be treated as such.

[vipvesper]

heyy so can you do a clarisse x reader fic where they have like rivalry?

major h8r

pairing: clarisse la rue x reader

warnings: clarisse, mentions of bullying, some low-grade tajin level spice

word count: 890+

"next time you won't be so lucky."

"Dude, you can't keep letting her pick on you like that," preaches Luke as the two of you sit on a rock. What happened, you may ask? You decided it would be a good idea to give into Clarisse after she relentlessly harassed begged you. Rather than actually focusing on technique during your spar, she took the opportunity to beat the Hades out of you. “She’s a bully.”

White bandages slip out of your grasp as you feebly attempt to wrap your wound. While ambrosia and nectar would've done the job, you're wary with consumption as to not burn to a crisp. Luke takes your hand, doing it for you. Contempt swirls in his oak-hued eyes, he knows you're better than this.

"I shouldn't have believed her when she said she wanted to improve her technique. I let my guard down," you mutter. Annabeth tuts, turning to face the entrance of the woods. “She may be a little… rough around the edges, but she’s not a bad person.”

"You'd think that someone like you would notice that she is," she states, blunt as ever.

"Helpful input, Annabeth.”

"It's the truth." The girl shrugs, fresh braids (courtesy of you) draped down her back.

"Thanks for the help, guys," you say, clapping an injured hand over Luke's shoulder. "But I have to get going. Camp won't run itself."

"But it literally will--"

You're already out of range by the time either of them can make any sort of protest. As you walk through the dirt paths, surveying the behaviors of the campers that are out and about, a familiar stomping sound approaches. Great. Clarisse.

Before you can turn to face her, an angry fist hits you over the head.

"You idiot! Why didn't you tell me you fight like a toddler? I would've gone easy," she jabs your side rather hard, forcing you to fold in on yourself. "Can't have Chiron's favorite in the infirmary. It'd be a shame if you shriveled up and died from an ambrosia overdose." You simply brush her off, having much more important things to do. “C’mon, dude, you suck at swordfighting!”

“Why are you talking to me?”

The question seems to catch her off guard. Her playful stance shifts to one fueled by anger at your comment.

“Cuz who else here is stupid as you?” The girl scoffs, built arms crossed over her overly toned chest. This isn’t even fair.

“Goodbye, Clarisse,” You roll your eyes, hiking up the stairs of the Big House, shutting it behind you.

Darkness creeps into the corner of your visions as you lay in your bunk, eyes trained on the ceiling. The snores of your siblings fill the room, coupled with the shuffling of blankets. Just as you near dreamland, a loud thunk on your window jolts you awake. You grab the weapon under your pillow, startled. You groan, seeing the culprit. Clarisse stands at your window, eyes shifting around.

Reluctantly, you let her tumble into the cabin, forcing her to silence.

“Shh, you’re gonna wake them up.” She simply laughs, kicking her shoes off, and dropping into your bed. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Your voice is nothing more than a whisper, quiet as a breeze.

“Missed ya’.” The daughter of Ares snickers, grabbing your tired form and dragging you down with her.

“You can’t keep breaking into my cabin,” you insist, but she doesn’t listen. The two of you lay side by side, simply enjoying eachother’s company. “You’re like… too calm.” Clarisse snorts, curls draped over your blankets

“Shut up. Next time you won’t be so lucky. I’m exhausted from beating your ass all day.” She grabs you by the collar, planting an uncharacteristically gentle kiss on your cheek. Heat blooms in your face, creeping up your neck and touching your ears.

“Oh. Wow.”

She moves quick, tackling you in a kiss—this time on the lips. A hint of cherry chapstick touches your tastebuds as your situationship pulls away. It’s a fleeting feeling, her lips on yours, and you simply can’t get enough. She chuckles upon seeing the look on your face.

“I hate your stupid face.” Clarisse’s sudden words are laced with laughter, her fingertips gently brushing over the dip of your nose and the apples of your reddened cheeks.

Her pretty dark eyes stare into yours, thumbing over a bruise she left from sparring.

“Doesn’t seem it.”

The brutish girl props herself on her elbow, staring down at you with her gorgeous eyes, darkest browns dotted with celestial bronze, swirled with imperial gold in the low light.

She tucks a loose tuft of hair behind your ear, leaving down again to deliver another gentle kiss. “Mmh,” she hums, warm tongue prodding for entry. Warm summer air blows in, the window left agape. The scent of the strawberry fields and the last embers of the latest fire mix to form a pleasant smell, bathing the cabin.

Clarisse’s calloused hand cups your jaw, her tongue slipping into your mouth. The air between you only gets thicker, forcing the duo up for a quick breath.

“Thought you didn’t like the French,” you jest, deciding this is the time to poke fun—since you won’t end up with a goose egg. She shoves you around for a bit.

“Shut up. Stupid teacher’s pet.” She captures you in another kiss, fingers intertwined like the stars and the sky.

a/n

i got pretty distracted, so this is less of a rivalry and more of a secret relationship 😔

[kiame-sama]

The amount of fist fights / guilt trips / theft among the romantic yanderes family would have over the HAE! Darling hybrids childrens gifts, or any of their possessions is ridiculous. Like I can see Falena trying to coerce Cheka/ his wife into handing over a drawing one of the twins made only to pout when they won't budge. He may have even tried with one of the lioness guards who promptly checked him 😌. Rook's family would definitely just sneak in to get the driderlings baby teeth, and not have an ounce of shame if caught by him or Vil 😭. I wouldn't put it pass our beloved sassy shinigami king to swipe clay monstrosities his hybrid descendant made from someone else in the family and pulling the "ancestor privileges"/ "I'm one of the great seven I've earned this" card to defend himself. 🤣 I'm curious to see your take on them and the other boys families in this scenario. 🌻 anon

The family of the Romantically intentioned Yanderes are always fighting over the half-human young and the Human themselves.

Falena is constantly trying to take the twin cubs out for a day with "Uncle" but has yet to succeed because that means he has to contest with the Lionesses and with his own wife. Meanwhile, his Wife is happily watching over the twin cubs and Cheka is trying to be the best older cousin he can be to the little cubs. Any drawings made by the cubs will be evenly distributed among the Lionesses, lord help anyone who tries to take those drawings away. Leona, Falena, Checka, and Falena's Wife Serabinii all have lockets with a small clipping of the twin cubs' fur inside so they can keep the cubs close to their hearts.

Rook's family is shameless and will often try to take the baby fangs and baby teeth of the Driderlings after they shed them. They will only act shameful is if it is the Human who catches them acting like this, but if it is Rook (or Vil if in a poly relationship) they don't care in the slightest and have zero shame. More often than not, his siblings or his parents (ESPECIALLY Rook's parents) will abscond with one of the 7 Driderlings any time they visit and Rook has to go retrieve them from his family. Where it had been only a handful of family would show up for the holidays or celebrations before the Driderlings, now the ENTIRE family shows up to see the Driderlings. It has become a whole production to see the new family members and The Hunts have never been closer.

Kalim's father is OBSESSED with the new Genie infant and is thrilled that they took so well to the Diamond Lamp. A Genie can only be killed if their lamp is destroyed, so a Diamond Lamp means the new Genie infant may as well be immortal against most other species. Most Genies have quite a bit of magic when they are born, Kalim having the most promising magic from birth (even though he is almost always deadly when making wishes) but the new infant is even stronger than Kalim was as a baby. His hair and nails are equally colorful (with his nails being chips of diamond due to his bond with his Diamond Lamp, like how Kalim's nails are literal gold due to his bond with his golden lamp) and trimmings of the Infant's hair or nails are also high value items that others would kill for.

Papa Hades is so proud and so overjoyed one would think it was HIS infant and not Idia's. He is constantly hovering and wanting to carry the little Shinigami infant at all times, almost all negative effects of his Human-born addiction relieved due to holding the little half-human. Funny thing is, the baby likes Papa Hades more than Idia, but the Human is still the infant's preferred caretaker. As one of the favorites, the Half-Shinigami infant makes all the things for Papa Hades and Papa Hades refuses to share any of these crafted monstrosities.

Vil's Father Eric is absolutely adoring of his little grand-chicks, loving their little fluffy feathers and taking care of these raw-chicken looking hatchlings. He will often be found singing lullabies to the chicks and sleeping by their little cradle-nest with a smile on his face. He is so proud of his son Vil and of these little puff-ball chicks that he will often make soft cooing noises when around them and has already made a photo album of the chicks. Any 'threat' (anyone who isn't Vil, Grim, or the Human) trying to mess with the chicks will have to face off with a furious Eric who will not hesitate to attack and brutalize the interlopers with his talons. 100% has a "World's best Grandpa" mug and will often take the chicks out to the park for a bit of sunshine.

Riddle's mother will try to get back into Riddle's life once she realizes he has had a foal with the Human. Riddle will not hesitate to send her packing or even kill her if she tries to take his Foal by force. Riddle's father is actually the parent Riddle allows in to see his Foal and it helps mend the gap between them made by Riddle's mother. The Clovers- Trey's parents- are the stand in grandparents for Riddle's foal and they adore the Unicorn Foal with all of their hearts.

Malefica and Maleficent are as proud as can be as they adore and nuzzle the Dragon hatchlings. Any shed scales will be kept and split four ways evenly among the three Dragons and the Human. The scales are brightly colored and more valuable than gemstones, so of course the Dragons want to immediately add them to their Hoards. Even the little baby fangs will be added to their respective Hoards. Both female Dragons will have already started individual item hoards for the infants of gemstones that match their scale colors, magestones that match the scale colors, fine cloth, quality metals, and anything else the Hatchlings show interest in. Of the shed baby scales, Maleficent makes four necklaces using the scales as pendants. She keeps one, so she always has the clutch close to her heart, and she give the other three to Malleus, Malefica, and the Human.

Azul's parents adore and spoil the daylights out of the Octo-babies and will buy specially made sea-glass octopus pots for the babies. Not to mention the fact that his parents will brag to EVERYONE that they have beautiful children that inherited so much of the Human's features that they are the beauty of all Merfolk. There are several aquatic Kingdoms/Queendoms that are looking to have the Octo-babies marry into the royal family.

[awriterinthenight]

"I'm so sorry, Amor"

words: 1519

requested: anonymous

warnings: fighting, I don't think there is any swearing, but there might be, not beta read, also I don't know how like they make swords and shit so this is probably inaccurate, but oh well, also maybe look up an astronomy ring to help

summary: Leo keeps missing your dates due to him working and losing track of time, but he makes sure to make up for it

"I said I'm sorry, mi amor,"

"That doesn't just make up for this," you said, almost screaming it from how angry and hurt you felt. Leo had once again missed one of your date nights because he was too busy working on his stupid machines to remember the date you had planned. The date wasn't extravagant by any means. The two of you were just going to raid the kitchen, then hide out in your cabin since no one was ever there, a perk of being a Hades kid. But Leo had once again, for the 5th time this month, forgotten about it after getting too involved in his work and forgetting what time it was.

Leo was meant to meet you at 8pm in your cabin. It was currently midnight and you both were standing outside bunker 9 trying to not get caught by the harpies.

"Then what can I do to make it up to you, mi mundo, I'll do anything," he pleaded, stepping closer to you feeling worse with every step he took.

You scoffed at him, "You say that every time, and every time I tell you 'oh its okay, just don't forget next time' and every time you forget, I'm sick of it," you complain, seething with not anger, but with the feeling of being hurt and lied to and believing it each time.

Leo was desperate at this point, he didn't like seeing you like this, even worse he hated how it was him who caused it.

"I swear I didn't mean to forget, I've just been busy with what I'm working on. I'm almost done. I'll show it to you and you'll understand-" he tried pleading, but you cut him off.

"I get it, you're too busy for me with your important work. If I really don't matter as much as your stupid project then you won't care if I leave," you say, every word leaving your lip shocking you as it came out, and stinging you almost as bad as it did him. You shadow travelled away from him, feeling every bit of hurt now.

Leo tried to stop you from leaving, but untimely failed, leaving him crying outside bunker 9. He kept thinking about how stupid he was to keep working on his project and standing you up by accident. Leo was fully suffering from the consequences of his actions, but it only made him work on his project more. A) it was his hideaway, since every time you saw each other you would leave as quick as possible, and B) This was his way of making it up to you.

***

It had been almost a week now since Leo stood you up. Every day felt even worse than the last. You wouldn't wake up wrapped in the warm arms of the Hephaestus boy, but to be honest the past few months it was rare for that to happen. Almost every meal was spent alone since unless Nico was at camp you sat by yourself, usually Leo would break the rules and sit with you, but that was also happening less lately since he wouldn't show up to meals.

You thought about talking to Leo and apologising almost everyday, but then you remembered that you have nothing to apologise for, he's the one that didn't care enough about you to show up to your dates. So you spent all day training or leading camp activities.

Everyone from campers, to nymphs, to even Mr. D who rarely ever noticed campers except for you and your brother, started to notice the change. This week was filled with less of your laughter, or enthusiasm when you lead activities, and you trained even more than you did before. You trained so much that the Ares kids were starting to get scared by you since you seemed to never leave the training arena.

It was a few minutes before the bonfire and you were once again training till your fists were red with blood. Training took away all the thoughts that constantly flooded your brain. When you were done you collapsed your sword which had been on its last life since you had it since you joined the camp, and many monsters later it was one wring strike away from breaking. You asked Leo to fix it, but he kept on saying that he'll get to it, it's just not a high priority right now. Another example of how he didn't care about you. Or so you thought.

When you walked out of the arena you felt a hand on your shoulder. You were about to strike when the person spoke out, "Wait, hear me out before you do anything, please," he said, as you instantly recognized the voice. Now instead of punching, you felt like stabbing him.

"What do you want Leo?" you asked, calling him by his first name. That hurt Leo, since you always either called him Repair Boy cause you thought it was cute, or called him Valdez since in your words you thought his last name was adorable, so you loved calling him by it. Secretly Leo loved this more than he could comprehend, because one day he hoped the last name would be yours too.

Leo let out a breath, stepping into the light so that both of you could see each other now, "I just want to show you something. Give me 5 minutes," he said, before clarifying, "Without judo flipping me or hurting me in any way."

"No promises, now hurry up, I told Clarisse I would meet her at the campfire," you told him, hoping whatever he had to say wouldn't take long.

"I promise this won't take long, amor," he said, no matter how mad you were at him you still got butterflies from him calling you pet names in Spanish, "I just wanted to show you what I've been working on."

"You mean what you basically ignored me for, for weeks," you scoffed out angrily, annoyed by his audacity.

Leo let out a sigh, "I swear I'll be sorry about that for the rest of my life, but I hope this will help you forgive me," he said, grabbing your hand and placing a small object in it.

It was a ring, confusing you even more, "Is this some 'one ring to rule them all' type thing, or what?" you questioned.

The boy smiled at the reference, "No, well it might be a bit inspired by it, but that's not it. Remember how you kept telling me that I needed to fix your sword?"

You nodded, "Yes, then I remember you saying it wasn't high on your priority list," you recalled, making him cringe.

That definitely wasn't one of Leo's finest moments, "I swear I'm even more sorry about that, but hopefully this will make up for it," he said, taking the ring back.

He moved the rings on the inside revealing it was an astronomy ring. As he turned the rings a certain way a sword appeared. You watched wordlessly as he turned the bottom of the sword making it go back to ring form, as it then changed to a spear, then dagger, then back to its sword form.

"D-did you, how-I," you stumbled out, amazed by his creation.

He shrugged, handing you the sword, "You kept saying you needed me to fix yours and you also talked about how much you hated all the other daggers and spears, so I made you this to fix it. I don't think it warrants almost accidentally shutting you out, but I hope you like it," he explained, starting to walk away before you caught his hand.

"Wait Leo," you called out as he turned, face to face with you now, "I-I didn't know you were working on this. If I did I never would've gotten mad, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything I said, I swear. I love it, and I love you," you confessed.

Leo's hands snaked around your waist, pulling you close, "No, I should be sorry princessa. I stood you up and hurt you more than I ever should've. But, I do have an idea," he proposed, pulling away from you so he could see your face.

"And what is this idea of yours?" you questioned, knowing whatever he had up his sleeve was going to be fun.

He once again pulled something out of his pocket, but this time it was a DVD, "How about I make up for all the dates I missed, starting with our movie dates."

You smiled, finally feeling happy, since you hadn't felt that way all week, "I think that would be perfect," you said before connecting your lips with his. Poor Clarisse was going to be alone tonight, but she wouldn't mind when she found out she wouldn't have to deal with your moodiness anymore

That night you two spent the night watching movies, cuddling, and throwing popcorn at each other. Throughout the night Leo made sure to slide the ring onto your finger, or play with it when he held your hand.

Current Taglist (ask to be added)

@almost-gabrielle @scarlett-8 @atashiboba @that1deerpersondownstairs

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Imagine there is a god who been asleep as many fear them, till they have forgotten about them, and the moment Ragnarok have started Zeus, Odin, and Shiva feels their presence and it's the physical primordial of primary fear

And they are fighting for humanity survival, as their physical appearance is the every common thing that many fear to a body of a pale white human body who is both beautiful and terrifying

-The day had finally arrived, Ragnarok, the fighters on both sides were ready, ready to fight for their entertainment and their survival, unaware that a long-forgotten storm was about to return.

-The different fighters for both sides were announced, giving the audience a glimpse of the impending fights, all warriors in the center of the ring, sizing each other up, as they didn’t know who was going to fight each other just yet.

-This gave a chance for opponents to see who they could challenge, and in turn, tell the organizers who they wanted to fight against.

-Brunnhilde and Zeus met in the center, going over the rules for the matches, so there would be a fair fight, including weapons and the assistance from the valkyries, to give humans a fighting chance.

-A low rumble then shook the arena, starting off small before growing to a full-blown earthquake, causing screams to echo through the arena, even the gods were shouting, demanding an explanation.

-A rush of power ran through the arena and Zeus, Odin, Hades, and Shiva all froze, turning and looking around as an icy cold aura seemed to fill the arena, one that everyone could feel.

-Many felt chills of fear running down their spines before an icy hold took over the arena, as if a snowstorm arrived. Goll’s teeth were chattering, “What’s going on?”

-Zeus swallowed hard, looking terrified, “Y/N…” confusion filled the arena as many looked at him and Shiva turned, “Parvati- take Ganesha and the others and get out of here- now!”

-Odin then spoke, his voice echoing, “Warriors- humans and gods- prepare yourselves. We may be facing the only person who could destroy Valhalla!”

-Brunnhilde summoned her sisters, preparing to fight alongside the warriors and they were quick to answer.

-Goll then spoke, clinging to Brunnhilde, “What’s happening? Who is Y/N?” Odin, who came to stand beside the two valkyries, answered, “An ancient deity of winter, the first winter deity. Y/N is the reason that the Ice Age caused by the meteorite that killed the dinosaurs didn’t destroy both earth and Valhalla. They pulled the rampaging storm, the cold, ice, and snow, into their body, at the cost of putting them in a sleep for centuries, as it was too much for Y/N to handle.”

-Goll panicked, knowing of the event, holding onto Odin’s robe, “Now Y/N’s awake?!” He nodded, not looking at her, “There is no other explanation to this power we all feel.”

-The warriors prepared themselves, preparing to fight as a figure moved through the icy mist into the arena, slowly revealing you, pure white hair and skin, looking like you were made of ice and snow yourself, stunningly beautiful, and your eyes glowing an icy white, your breathing harsh and ragged.

-Your mouth opened as another wave of energy rushed from you, chilling all of them to the bone as slowly rising scream escaped your lips, one that sounded so pained, like you were in agony.

-Odin’s eye widened before narrowing, “The power is still too much for them!” your eyes closed and then snapped open, ice appearing at your feet, as you were completely bare, but unbothered by your nakedness, as the ice encased the ground of the arena.

-People were screaming in fear, begging to be saved, but Zeus held out his arms to the side, “Don’t do anything! Y/N may not attack us if we don’t attack first.”

-Shiva glared, punching his fists together, “So what we just wait for them to attack us first?” Zeus turned with a slight glare, “You’re one of the few that know just how powerful Y/N is. You know we can’t risk this.” Shiva’s jaw clenched, knowing it was true.

-Your movements were stiff and achy, your back hunched, posture awful from being asleep for so long, the power making you lose control of your body.

-Another rush of energy escaped you with another pained scream before you collapsed to your knees, steam rising from your body as you panted heavily, your eyes slowly returning to normal as you slowly made your power, the power of the Ice Age, submit to your whim.

-Everyone remained still, waiting on bated breath, afraid of something happening before one human, Sasaki Kojiro, ran towards you, pulling off his red haori and quickly kneeled wrapping it around you, as you were completely bare.

-The gods flinched, terrified this human just offended you, but he just smiled, “There- now you’re at least covered.” You lifted a hand to his cheek, and he found you like ice as you gave him a soft smile, “Thank you human.”

-Seeing you calm and not at all hostile, the strongest of the gods, who knew you, instantly exhaled in relief, as they knew, sensing the power in your body, that they would be no match for you, even working together.

-You stood as the others approached, Zeus looking nervous as you looked down at him, reaching out to cup his cheeks, “Zeus?” he nodded, looking hopefully that you wouldn’t be mad, as he was the one who didn’t control the meteor and underestimated the power behind the Ice Age, which led to your unending nap.

-Moments later he was shouting, “Ow-ow-ow!! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!!” you were pinching and pulling his cheeks, scolding him, “What were you thinking doing something so reckless?!”

-After you let him go, you turned and instantly Odin, Hades, and Shiva covered their cheeks with their hands, making you smile before you looked around, seeing the humans and the gods together, “What is all this?”

-Everyone was hesitant on telling you, as you were always soft on humans, as you knew they were stronger than the gods believed, and the gods knew that if you found out what they had planned to do, you would be pissed.

-Zeus then popped up, his cheeks red and swollen, “We were having a fighting tournament to celebrate the relationship between gods and humanity!”

-Everyone froze, panicking that this wasn’t going to work, as Brunnhilde told the humans to go along, as there would be no way for them to fight you and you smiled, “I apologize for interrupting then.”

-Everyone waved off your apology, telling you they could clean up and have the tournament another day, as all the gods instantly agreed, silently, that they couldn’t go through with the tournament and they needed to quickly fix the mess that they caused, not wanting to incur your wrath.

-Everyone had to be careful in the coming days as you got used to life in Valhalla again, not wanting to piss you off, they didn’t want to risk their lives and homes, and keeping you happy was their most important mission.

-However, thanks to Kojiro and several other humans that you got to know, this was easy, as you loved to hear about their lives, hearing about their battles and how they survived, it proved you right, that humans were stronger than anyone expected.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Love on the brain chapter 3

Master list

CW: please check master list

Jabari sits stiff on the back porch of his house. He has one ear trained on the noises inside the house, the other on his sisters as they chatter on about something that happened at school. He's listening for even the slightest raise of a voice, body poised to jump up and hop the fence. He's not sure if he could get his sisters inside to safety, and he knows they don't have the upper strength to climb the fence. He glances at the shed in the backyard and decides that it's a good alternative. The back door swings open, and it's the heavy steps of his father that he hears. The groan of a tired body sitting next to him.

“Hey sport.” His father pulls him in for a side hug and ruffles his hair. Kenny, yeah, Jabari thinks, is a bit rough with his head pats. “I wanna apologize for you and your sisters seeing your mum, and I fight.”

Jabari shrugs his shoulders, “it's fine, dad.” He whispers.

“Next time, I don't want you getting between your mum and I.” Kenny says quietly, “innit a proper place for a child.”

Jabari looks up at him and nods his head. There's still a frown on his face, and even though he wants to force a smile, he can't. So instead, he looks back across the lawn towards his sisters. The two of them are playing a hand clapping game, and it looks fun. They look oblivious to the fact that Amazon just delivered a brand new TV, it's fancy and curved, boasting all the new bells and whistles. Oblivious to the new PS5, and there's two of them, a promise that he and his dad…Kenny will play games together. Oblivious to the obnoxiously large doll house that waits for them in their bedroom, already put together. Oblivious to the new plants in their clay pots with ribbons tied around them, replacements for the ones Kenny poured bleach into out of spite.

The girls are laughing and singing.

Jabari, for the third time in his life, feels older than what he is.

You sit at the dining room table and trace your fingers across the shiny green leaves of your new gardenia plant. It's one of the few plants he decided to replace. You're not sure how he was able to find one, Kenny made it a point to not know much about gardening and your flowers. He always said it was because he didn't understand nature, but he was lucky to have a bird that did.

You understand nature, alright. You understand nature.

You understand.

You.

You're? Nature.

Your? Nature.

Yes, your.

Nature.

Understands.

Nature understands you.

You and nature are often hand in hand, and you understand each other. You understand him and his nature, too. Kenny makes no effort to understand you or your nature, and his nature will always come screaming at you. His nature is all fists, sharp edges, scorched earth, salted soil, and then he begs for you to bring life into degraded land; he fancies himself Hades, and you are his Persophene.

That's what that display today was, begging and crying and praying. Jesus himself would have whipped Kenny, his mother, and the pastor for that act. Jesus would have flipped over the new gifts and berated everyone, including you, for this shameful sham. Your Bible is opened to 1 Corinthians 13:4–8a, it's highlighted in blue highlighter, the thin paper dog eared. It's mocking, really, because in your heart, you feel as if you could curl up and die. The std is slowly going away, and the discomfort of sex is the only thing that saves you from opening yourself up to your husband.

It's not related to the fact that you can't bring yourself to even pretend to orgasm. It's not related to the fact that you don't want to have him grunting above you, lying to your face that he won't do this again. Telling you that he loves you, that you're too good for him, he doesn't deserve you…(He's a dog. A liar. A no good son of a bitch! You secretly hope he dies. You hope you both die, a punishment for making the kids needlessly suffer.)

You simply want to get off this carousel, take off your clown makeup, and leave this three ring circus. You're angry that you can't and even more angry that the audience is your children and whoever else just happens upon this display. You want to flip over tables and trash the house and leave with your children.

Maybe even go across the lawn and stay with those sweet men that all seem to have kept an eye on your family.

The back door swings open, and Kenny walks in, Jabari is trailing after him. You watch as your baby boy moves stiffly, and you move to follow, already tensing because you feel like a fight is gonna happen.

“Sit down and relax.” Kenny says with a laugh, “We're gonna set up those new game stations and see what we can get into.” He throws his arm around Jabari and brings him close.

You shake your head and smile, “Don't go spending more than a few dollars. What are we feeling for dinner?” It's all pretend.

Your husband gives you a knowing smile, “I'd like to have you for dinner-”

“Gross dad!” Jabari whines.

“But I don't want you cooking, why don't we order in, whatever the kids want and why don't you finish going through that gardening book of yours and order the stuff for those new raised beds you want me to build. Maybe even look into those chickens you want, and we'll see what we can do.” He then ushers his son towards his office, talking about how he doesn't understand the new games other than mine craft.

You sigh heavily and go to call the girls inside so you can show them their new doll house.

The bastard doesn't even stay that night when you turn him away for sex. You won't even touch him until he gets tested, and you see the results in his patient portal. So tonight, you sit on the back porch nursing a glass of wine. The cool air is relaxing, and the sounds of your kids enjoying their Friday night makes you smile. The gardening magazine is open, and you're slightly interested in the articles, but your eyes keep drifting up towards the fence. They linger when you hear your neighbor's back door open and the sounds of conversation.

A smile slowly spreads across your lips, “Hey neighbors!” You call out to who you suspect is Simon and maybe Johnny. The chatter stops, and Johnny is leaning over the fence.

He is grinning ear to ear, his bright blue eyes reflect the dusk of the evening. “Miss Bonnie!”

“Miss Bonnie?” You chuckle and snap your magazine closed, “I've told you my name.”

“Yeah, but Miss Bonnie sounds cuter.” He is such a flirt you end up thinking. “Amazon was practically struggling with all of those boxes today.”

You nod, “Yeah they were.” You sound a bit clipped in tone, but it can't be helped at the mention of that bribery. “How's my daughter's baby doll doing?”

“She's doin’ just fine.” Simon is at the fence now. A cigarette resting between his fingers, arms folded over the fence. His mask pulled up to rest over his nose.

“Those cancer sticks will kill you.” Eyeing the cigarette with distaste clear on your face. “My own father smoked and then had the nerve to be shocked when he got cancer and died.”

“Cancer got him?” Simon asks.

“No, cancer didn't get him, but he was speeding to make his doctor appointment, flipped his car, and died that day.” You shake his head, “may he rest in peace, I guess.”

Johnny is slack in the jaw and Simon in all morbid humor chuckles. “Was it a cancer appointment he was racing to?”

The noise you make is a cross between laughter and choking. “Yeah!” And that allows Simon to laugh in earnest with you. There's a crash in the house and then followed by screaming. The back door opens, and out runs Jayla and Jada with Jabari hot on their trails.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” Jada squeals as she's tackled to the ground by her brother. “Mom, get him off!”

You laugh and get up to separate the two of them. “What's going on?” Immediately, they both start yelling and arguing with each other. “Enough! Jayla?”

“They were fighting over the last slice of pizza, but Jada knocked it on the floor so nobody could have it.” Jayla whispers, a shy smile on her lips.

You only shake your head, “Jesus be a fence…there's more pizza in the house.”

“Traitor!” Jada shouts, pointing a finger at her twin.

“You're the one who wouldn't share the last slice of pizza!” Jabari is irate about this.

“But mom” Jada whines, “That's dad's nasty pizza, and he gets mushrooms on purpose!”

Your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose, and all you can hear is Johnny laughing and the low chuckle from Simon. Johnny climbs over the fence, and he digs in the pocket of the oversized hoodie he is wearing. He pulls out a few suckers and offers them out. Jada is quick to snatch one and tearing open the wrapper. You are absolutely mortified. Johnny is only laughing louder.

“Jada Nicole! Please and thank you!” You scold her.

“She's a kid wit’ candy Miss Bonnie.” Johnny opens another sucker and hands it to Jayla. She smiles and says thank you before ducking back behind her sister. “Ye wan’ one?” He offers Jabari.

“Nah Soap, I prefer sour patch kids.” He smiles and rocks back and forth on his feet. “Hey, are you guys busy?”

“Jabari-” You go to say.

“Actually!” Jada looked at Simon “How's my Anni doing? I hope you haven't had to spank her. Sometimes, she acts out and just won't shut her mouth when she cries, so you gotta give her something to cry about.”

You are distraught because why are your kids deciding to show their asses at this exact moment? On second thought, where did she learn about the concept of spanking? You've certainly never hit her a day in your life.

Simon is looking at Jada, and he grins at her, “Anni has been nothing but an angel.” He assures her, “went down for her naps just fine and ate all her vegetables.”

“Good,” Jada nods her head, “because she can be a handful at times. Can I have her back?”

“Yeah little lady.” He puts out his cigarette and heads into the house.

You, on the other hand, are absolutely over your children and their lack of filter, “I'll wait for Anni. You three get inside and change for bed. We've got a long day tomorrow.”

There's a chorus of “But Mom” in whiney little tones accompanied with stomping feet. After a stern now, Jada and Jayla head inside, Jabari staying to linger.

“I actually wanted to ask if Soap and his friends wanted to come to my soccer game tomorrow.” He gives you such a puppy dog look as he shuffles his feet. Eyes going from between you and Johnny, genuinely hopeful.

“Ah donnae mind. Sure, tha guys would like tae come an’ watch.” Johnny ruffles his hair, and Jabari leans into him. “But ye really should call it football.” He laughs.

“Ugh Soap, you're on American soil!”

You watch the interaction feeling some type of emotion. It's convoluted, strange, a certain type of longing that settles heavily in the pit of your stomach. Seeing your son lean into such a sweet and loving touch, when a few hours ago he barely would look his own father in the eye, it made you freeze up with guilt. You so desperately wanted this moment to be with Kenny, and at the same time, you wanted that man far away from all of you. Seeing Simon come back with your daughter's doll and all of the little accessories made that feeling intensify. Kenny had never certainly cradled that little Anni doll sweetly and carefully. He often didn't even acknowledge the doll.

You take the doll and its things from over the fence, fingers brushing against Simon's gloved hands. “Sweetie.” You interrupt Jabari's and Johnny's playful banter, “Take this to your sister, and please, all of you be dressed for bed by the time I get in there.”

He takes the toys and gives Johnny a smile “Night Soap, night Mr. Simon!”

Once he is inside and the door slams shut, you look at Johnny. He's got this infuriating smile on his face as he leans back against the fence, hands shoved into that oversized hoodie. Actually, upon closer inspection, it looks like it belongs to Simon. Before you can say anything, Simon speaks up.

“You've got tha’ house to ya self t'night?” He crosses his arms over the fence again.

“Kenny will be back in the morning. Think he went to his mom's.” You know it's a lie, and you don't miss how both men seem to sneer at this. “Don't let him call you Soap.”

“It's fine, everyone does.” Johnny smiles again, “he's thinking of a cool nickname for us to call him.”

“Nothing inappropriate, please.” You warned him, “Jabari, if he does something, his sisters are bound to copy.”

“Sounds like mah kinda kid!” You genuinely think Johnny is a bit cooky in the head.

Simon shakes his head, “An’ you?”

“What about me?”

The look he gives is assessing, picking you apart, searching, “you'll be fine t'night?”

“I will be.”

“Call if you need to.” Simon's eyes are intense, smoldering.

That look makes you squirm and avoid eye contact, “The match starts at two. I'll text you guys the address.”

“Thanks Miss Bonnie.” And in a surprising turn of events, Johnny pulls you into a hug. It's tight, the kind you get from a friend you haven't seen in forever. It also lingers a bit long. He lets you go and nudges you on to the house. Both of them wish you a good night and that they will all be at the game tomorrow.

When you're alone for the night, kids put to bed, and you reread your Bible passage that is highlighted. The only thought on your mind is the fact that Kenny got mushrooms on the pizza despite Jada and Jayla asking him not to. A stark contrast to how effortlessly Simon and Johnny treat any of your children.

a.n: this one took a bit. But I did enjoy writing it. Oh and the verse that was used to council reader (if you wanna call it that) is below.

1 Corinthians 13:4–8a

"Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth”

Tag list: @leahnicole1219 @uraeus56 @royalty-cashinout @chickennuggetuwu @gazsluckyhat

[abiiors]

persephone - matty x reader ˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧💌˚.⋆🌿

a/n: this is kinda loosely based on the myth of persephone and also this is just one interpretation of it, obv several exists in the media :) and like matty's barely hades lmao, this is mostly just the connection of persephone, demeter and spring ♡ cw: this contains themes of parental neglect, dysfunctional families, emotional abuse/neglect and alcoholism, and they're very much PRESENT and DETAILED. this isn't angst but it's def bittersweet (emphasis on the bitter whoops) wc: 5.1k

the first word she learns is “mama”. 

she has a faint memory of this—a woman with shining brown hair, smiling and cheering at her. everything is blurred around the edges and filtered in through a haze. everything has a foggy white quality to it but the woman’s eyes are crystal clear and looking at her, focused solely on her. she has a memory of others laughing and clapping along, encouraging her to say the word again and again. 

mama.

the brown haired woman looks tired—she’s young and, looking back, barely even an adult. but the woman smiles at her and coos along. “mama,” the woman says in an exaggerated baby voice and points to herself. 

“mama,” she babbles again at the woman she now recognises as her mother. the woman gives her a bland smile, playing with her almost absently. the woman even lets her grab onto her fingers and bite on them—not that it counts much as biting, she barely has teeth at this point. 

the next memory she has is of an older man with a freckled happy face and salt-n-pepper hair. he throws her up in the air and catches her until she’s giggling and breathless and light as air. he's often at their dining table, peeling pomegranates.

mama says she can't eat them yet—they're of course a choking hazard for a baby her age. but the old man peals it for mama, because mama looks happy when she sits next to him and pops the seeds into her mouth, sighing at the sweetness.

“these are delicious, daddy,” mama says to him and he smiles at mama with all the tenderness in the world.

when mama needs a break from her, he takes her to the nearby pond, and lets her touch leaves and rocks. he points at the tiny things in the water and says a word she barely recognises. 

fishies.

he clicks his tongue and waits for her to imitate the word, but she only claps her hands and says “mama” again. 

the man laughs. “let’s get you home to mama then.”

the younger woman gets mad at him when they get home though. mama grabs all the treasure—their entire day’s hard work—and puts it away somewhere where she can never reach it again. 

the man grumbles about it too but she’s far too young yet to understand words and tone, much less full blown fights. all she knows is a distinct sharp feeling of fear when mama snatches her away from the old man’s hands and puts her away in a room alone. 

there are white bars around her that she can’t climb, even though she cries and cries and screams for mama. even when a pungent smell fills the room and she feels uncomfortable wetness in her onesie. 

but mama doesn’t come. and the old man’s voice can’t reach her anymore. there’s only the sound of her cries and an eerie music box lullaby that plays on repeat as if it would ever be enough to pacify her.

mama doesn’t come for hours. 

years later, she’d know why mama can’t be bothered. 

the last time she calls her mother “mama” is when she’s seven years old. 

it’s rained all night and the backyard is wet and muddy. mama grimaces the moment she looks out the window but for a seven year old girl, it’s the most fun thing to ever exist. mama makes a sound of disgust when she runs outside, whooping with joy and slipping and sliding in the mud. 

all she wishes for is a companion now—a sibling or a dog or a cat, she’s not picky. a friend works too, but she’s not entirely sure where someone gets those. 

“if you get mud on my carpets, i swear!” mama shakes her fist from the back door but she can’t care less.  

she’s drenched in mud and having way more fun than she’s had in days. so much so that she doesn’t even realise when mama shakes her head and goes back inside. 

the winter chill is almost gone, there’s even a few little saplings sprouting from the ground and she can’t wait for the whole backyard to be filled with weird little weeds and wallflowers. she can’t wait until it’s warm enough to sit outside in the afternoons and make her little witchy potions from mud and weeds and flowers and see if any butterflies would be curious enough to land near her. (or maybe even on her like they do in the movies she’s seen!) 

she forgets the movies for a moment, though. today is the best day a girl could have. 

her grampy—her grandpa—is supposed to visit too, and she knows he’s going to bring treats; sweet honey from the hive on their farm or tiny red strawberries that dribble juice down her chin. she knows he’ll sit in their kitchen and peel her a pomegranate (she can eat those now!) and tell her about the new calf on the farm. (she’s asked this story twice now but it only gets better each time) it’s all so exciting that she even forgets about her aversion to the kitchen for a bit, forgets how a pit opens in her stomach every time she has to be in the kitchen with mama. 

she can’t wait for the after, but right now she runs through her backyard again, whooping and cheering and smiling. 

she’s slipping and slipping, just like before. the fence comes closer, her little mind tries to calculate the distance, her feet try to slow down but the mud’s grown too slippery and she just can’t stop, can’t put her arms up in time. 

her jaw collides with the fence with a sickening crunch. pain flares in her mouth along with the sharp coppery taste of blood. it almost makes her gag and she tries to spit it out. something white falls on the ground, covered in blood—her first tooth, the one that’s been loosening for days. 

she stays curled on the ground, covered in mud, sobbing and spitting out more blood until her saliva runs clear, then she somehow shuffles inside, hoping mama would have a magic fix. 

mama’s eyes widen the moment she walks in, dried mud crusted around her feet, blood on her chin.

“what the fuck?!” mama yells, the glass in her hand jostles dangerously and the dark liquid inside almost splashes out. mama’s words also have an unnerving, slurred quality to them but she’s too much in pain to care. 

“what’s wrong with you?!” mama screeches again and gets up. through tears, she manages to splutter out what happened. she shows mama the tooth, (girls in school have told her about the tooth fairy) but mama only smacks her hand away. 

“i told you not to get mud on my carpets. who’s going to clean them huh? not you, you’re useless. you’re all useless.”

more tears fall on her cheeks and she looks at mama, horrified. but mama slams the glass hard enough on the table that a crack goes through it. she’s worried mama’s going to yell at her more, but mama only yanks the mop from the corner and waits for her to move out the way. 

she takes the hint, grateful it didn’t get worse. she tries not to get the mud onto anything else but a little gets on the bathroom tiles anyway. 

under the hot water, she finally lets her sobs free and scrubs her little body until the skin is all red and raw and stings from the temperature of the water. until each stream of the showerhead feels like a bb bullet. 

then she gets on her hands and knees and scrubs the bathroom floor clean, occasionally flicking her tongue over the now-empty spot where the tooth used to be. it tastes vaguely salty, and it still aches but not as much, definitely nothing in comparison to her jaw which is turning a nasty shade of purple. her tooth’s still safe on the counter, though—free of blood and mud now. gleaming white. 

at least that’s the saving grace of the day. at least she’ll get a visit from the tooth fairy. 

grampy cancels his visit—his knees hurt, mama says—but she tries not to be miffed about it. she’ll make sure to get grampy something nice with the money from the tooth fairy. 

that night she gingerly places the tooth on the bed, carefully places the pillow on top so that the tooth is protected from all sides. nice and snug. 

then she closes her eyes, dreaming of tiny fluttering wings and shiny pennies. but the tooth fairy never visits at all. 

her mum ages rapidly in a decade. by the time she’s seventeen, her mum’s already gone grey—unravelling at the seams, fraying with each passing day. not that anyone’s seen her mum in days. or months even. her mum’s not coherent enough to hang out with people most of the time. 

she’s started spending less and less time at home. it helps to have a part time job on top of school—a place that delivers chinese food. a couple guys from her school work there too, not that she really knows a lot of them. except one. 

matty. 

he’s the one person she’s ever considered a friend. 

the one person who’s been worthy of that title. 

matty’s all casual smiles and laughs—he flirts shamelessly and kisses people on the cheeks when he gets drunk. he offers her fags and spliffs even though she always denies them. he nicks leftover chinese so they can eat it in his car, giggling and laughing, way prouder of their heist than they should be. 

the food tastes better when she’s with him. everything’s better when she’s with him—even the shitty, off-brand beer he keeps buying. with him it tastes like expensive champagne. not that she knows what champagne tastes like to begin with, but she imagines the bubbles settling on her tongue feel like his laugh spilling from his lips. she imagines it tastes like the sparkle in his eyes.

matty looks at her differently too—she’s not stupid, she knows what interest looks like. 

she’s been the object of fascination since she turned thirteen and developed boobs seemingly overnight. she shies away from attention most of the time—wears t-shirts twice her size, keeps her hair a bland brown. she barely even looks at boys or men who tell her she looks mature for her age. but when matty looks at her, it’s different. 

when matty looks at her, she wants to be seen. 

“you sure it’s okay for us to be out so late?” he asks one night when they’re sat in his car. the world around them has already gone quiet—it is a school night after all, she should be in bed too. but she sees the cigarette dangling loosely between his lips and for a second she forgets to respond. matty quirks and eyebrow and she realises she’s been staring at his mouth. 

“my mum won’t mind.” her response is a bit curt, but she leaves it at that. there’s no need to mention that her mum’s probably drowning in wine by now, tripping and spilling the liquid onto floors and sofas and carpet. 

“she must be chill,” matty hums to himself and takes a drag of his cigarette. she watches him hold it into his lungs, some of it escapes through his nose and curls around his face. 

she keeps quiet, unwilling to get into that topic of conversation. 

“i’m thinking of dropping out,” matty says quietly once the cigarette turns into a tiny stub. his voice is carefully neutral, monotonous. she whirls to look at him, jaw practically dropping to the (dirty) floor of his car. matty stares straight ahead, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, but the tension in his shoulders gives him away. 

images flash in front of her—walking the school corridors alone, eating lunch alone, doing her homework alone. working at her job alone. 

alone, alone, alone. no one but her mum around her again. that wretched fucking woman occupying every atom of her existence.

“did you h—”

“i heard you.” her voice has gone quiet now but there’s an edge to it that doesn’t go unnoticed by matty. 

“and?”

“and what? if i said no, would that convince you to stay?”

she doesn’t mean to sound so sharp, so bitter. certainly not so selfish. but an ugly feeling bubbles up so deep inside her that all the excitement from before just dies—all the butterflies from just a moment ago, now dead and rotten, making her feel nauseous. 

“no but—”

“i don’t want to tell you why it’s irresponsible, matty. frankly, i don’t know if i believe that myself but… it’s… it’s big.”

his face falls further and further the more she speaks. with each word she wants to press a hand to her mouth, wrap it around her throat so it would strangle everything else that’s about to come out. with every word she wants him to tell her to just shut the fuck up, that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. but matty only looks at her and a different sort of quiet spreads around the car. 

“you think this… this thing you’ve got going on. music. you think that’s enough?! you play for fucking retirement homes, matty! you play for old people who probably won’t even remember what they heard twenty minutes later. and you want to–what? you want to leave your education incomplete? you want to leave a-levels and school and your job? you just want to…leave?”

which is the real problem. 

he gets the luxury of leaving. 

she gets the misery of staying. 

“thanks,” he says dryly, trying to roll his eyes. she catches the extra shine they now have, she catches the way his throat bobs. and suddenly the car is so stifling she can’t stand it anymore—can’t stand the taste of the nasty, cheap beer and the too-salty, too-greasy chinese they’re eating and she can’t stand the cliche, indie rock music playing at low volume. 

she can’t stand him anymore. 

“i need to go,” she says curtly, wiping her hands on her jeans and already halfway out the door when matty grabs her wrist. 

“wait—”

“what.”

“n-nothing.” it’s the first time she’s heard him stutter, first time he’s ever said something without sounding completely sure of himself. “let me just drop you home.”

it’s also the first time he’s offered to do that. 

“i have my bike.” besides there’s no need for you to see the state of the house right now, no need to come across that belligerent woman in case she’s still conscious. 

“it’s late.”

she can’t really argue with that logic. it is almost 11 at night and she might not live in a very shady neighbourhood but it’s still not the safest at this time of the night. still, she doesn’t want matty driving her around and dropping her home. that feels too vulnerable. besides, she just wants to be away from him.

he’s leaving anyway, she might as well start practising that from now on. 

“i’ll text you when you get home,” she mumbles and forces her wrist out of his hand. 

she’s out of the car and slamming the door shut before he can even protest. she’s marching across the empty road and to her bike before the absence of his warmth registers, before her body realises that she can no longer feel his skin against hers. 

before she really has a chance to let anything sink in. 

matty honks and she hisses. 

“what!”

“i’m following you home.” and then the little shit rolls up the window. 

she has half a mind to stubbornly wait him out, see how long he stays if she just refused to move but that’s a stupid plan. like it or not, it’s happening. he’s following her home. 

like it or not, she’s going to have to let him. 

“i’ll only accept your apology on one condition.”

it’s two days later that they’re back in his car—her with a guilty conscience, matty with a smug smile. 

“ugh, if you’re about to be a boy about it!”

“you haven’t even heard me out yet!”

the pit in her stomach shifts, the hollow cavity catching in her throat until she has to forcefully clear her throat and blink rapidly. it’s not that she’s completely forgiven him for wanting to leave, she hasn’t completely given up on that yet either. but she realises the way she went about it was perhaps…a bit shitty (okay it was definitely a lot shitty) 

“spring dance”

“what?!”

the words jerk her out of her thoughts so violently that she almost forget about everything else for a second. the spring fucking dance. 

matty healy, the boy who nicks chinese food and drinks cheap beer and wears ripped, skinny jeans wants to go to the spring dance. 

“right don’t look at me like i’ve asked you out to a strip club—”

“that’d be more in character—”

“oi! just… let me speak!”

and so she shuts up, puts her hands under her thighs so she won’t impulsively chew on her nails while her crush is…trying to ask her out. 

matty rolls his eyes at her and the fond smile on his face takes her breath away. 

“i want to do it. i want one last cheesy school experience before i…” he trails off, maybe not wanting to finish that sentence for her sake. or maybe because it affects him more than she thinks. “and i want to do it with you.”

“me? ooh like i’m special or something.” she tries for it to be teasing and playful, but the words come out sounding so hopeful that it knocks the breath out of her. 

“don’t pretend,” matty’s voice goes all quiet then. serious too, and suddenly he can’t meet her eyes. “don’t pretend like you don’t see it.”

“see what…”

there’s a lot in her life that she pretends not to see—half the things at home, sometimes her failing marks, sometimes the way other people look at her and whisper. but he is the one person she can’t pretend with. can’t pretend to not see the way he looks at her and acts around her. can’t pretend to not notice the way his touches linger and his smiles last longer. 

even now, she can’t pretend like he’s not looking right at her lips, leaning in a smidge at a time. wishing she’d close the gap. 

involuntarily, her eyes flutter shut. anticipating. 

she wants to feel it so fucking bad—his hands on her waist, his fingers on her skin. she wants to feel his faint stubble against the palm of her hand, his lips on hers. most of all she just wants to feel him close, to feel his breath on her skin. 

matty jerks away and a loud horn of a car breaks the spell. 

“fucking dicks!” matty rolls the window down and yells at the retreating figure of teenagers in a car, one of them even flips him off and next to him she seethes. 

fuck this, fuck everything. why can’t she just have nice things. 

why must someone come and ruin it every time. 

it takes them both a minute to breathe and settle down and meet each other’s eyes again. even then there’s a slight pink tinge on his face that makes him look adorable. 

“sorry about that…” matty mumbles and taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “so…spring dance?”

“i’d love that.”

she hopes the smile she gives him is genuine. she hopes he sees it plain and simple all over her face—all the words she hasn’t said and cannot say. 

matty smiles wide. “then i forgive you.”

and it’s like a weight gets lifted off her chest. 

“you look pretty,” her mum’s eyes roam over her body, eyeing her from head to toe, flicking over certain places again and again until she almost feels naked—like the blush pink fabric doesn’t even exist. like her mum sees right through her. 

years of this has taught her that it’s not a compliment. if anything, it’s just another trap, so she focuses on her reflection in the mirror and smiles with as much warmth as she can muster. “thanks!”

her mum reeks of wine already, maybe even a little weed but it’s nearly not enough today which is surprising. she would have expected her mum to be at some bar by now. 

“i’ll be a bit late. don’t worry i have my keys though.” 

then she scoffs to herself. when has her mum ever worried? 

“who’s taking you? to the dance.”

“wha–? oh. uh, just a few friends. only met them recently.” she winces, trying to get the last of the curls in place, trying not to be too cagey in front of her mum. she doesn’t want her mum to think she’s hiding something—mostly because it never ends well, and she can’t be arsed to deal with another screaming match right now. not when there’s a ball of anxiety and anticipation in her chest, wound so tightly that it’s slowly choking the air out of her lungs. 

she just wants to be outside. she just wants matty to see her, to call her pretty and maybe even kiss her. 

she just wants this one night with him. 

just one. 

her mum huffs and stumbles into the room. everything about this woman wants to make her shrink away—the days old stink of sweat and alcohol and cigarettes, the grime under her fingernails, her beady stare… 

even when her mum’s fingers twirl around her curl, she fights not to shrink back, to slap her mum’s hand away. 

“you look pretty,” her mum repeats. “prettier than i did when i was your age.” 

her stomach churns at the cruel edge to those words but her mum isn’t done yet. “huh–not so easy to be pretty with a seven month pregnant belly. like a fucking whale…”

and there it is. 

her fault that her mum was robbed off having normal teenage experiences. 

“right, mum,” she smiles shakily, “need to get going.”

it’s almost a miracle that her mum doesn’t say anything else. mum just backs away and lets her gather her things. she quickens her pace, heart beating in her throat, hands trembling when she picks up her small purse. 

it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay

“don’t spread your legs for that boy.”

she freezes in place, almost out the door.

“wha—”

“act dumb again and i’ll make sure you never see that boy again.” 

“mum…” she swallows harshly, prays that the tears pricking her eyes don’t spill down her cheeks. then she nods and books it out of there. better to go before her mum changes her mind. 

better to go before leaving becomes impossible. 

matty makes her forget all of it. 

the moment she sees him, the shakiness in her limbs disappears, her heart thuds in her chest for all the right reasons. he’s in a suit. a fucking suit that makes him look all grown up and handsome but then his unruly curls go all over the place and suddenly she’s laughing with the boy she’s had a crush on. 

no matter what he wears and what he looks like, he will always be that boy.

the school auditorium is full of flowers—some fake, some real. all the girls around her look stunning, dressed in colourful pretty gowns. it’s all spring incarnate. 

all night he dances effortlessly, twirls so many people around him like he’s friends with everyone. and maybe he is—he’s certainly always been so much more popular than she has. she should be the one leaving. 

but she also can’t help but stare. she wonders if he is a daydream, something her lonely mind conjured up during hours filled with boredom or after long, exhausting fights with her mum. and suddenly, he is looking right at her. sweat makes his white shirt stick to his body in the most flattering way possible, makes his sweaty curls fall into his eyes until he can barely see straight.

stop ogling! 

“staring is rude, you know?” he walks—no, saunters—over to her. suddenly, there’s not enough air left in the giant school auditorium. 

“you’ve been staring too,” she counters. and she’s right. all night she’s caught his long lingering glances that make her feel like she’s coming alive. 

like a flower blooming in spring. 

“you kinda make it hard not to stare.” so does he, she thinks. but everything, from his half smile to his relaxed posture, tells her not to inflate his ego further. she stifles the faint blush creeping up her face and shakes her head bashfully.

“come on,” he says. 

at first, she doesn’t realise what’s happening. then he whisks her away to the dance floor and her shriek of surprise turns into one of delight. she has never danced like this before but that night they dance till her heart pounds in her ears, till she can’t stand straight anymore. then they sway softly, in spite of the rock and roll playing in the background. 

“you’re beautiful,” matty smiles at her, sincere and real. 

if she discovers anything about herself that early spring night, it would be her love for dancing. it’s a feeling she’s never felt before—something that almost feels like…freedom. it’s foreign at first, all the blood coursing through her body at the speed of lightning. she tries to keep track of how many times she shrieks and laughs and jumps in excitement. all of it until matty picks her up and twirls her around. 

round and round until she’s breathless and light as air and fucking free. 

somewhere after that, she loses count. at the end of the night, her dress clings to her and matty can’t stop staring. can’t stop letting his eyes roam all over her until he’s grinning himself. his smile is boyish. perfect. and just as she’s getting self-conscious, he pulls her closer. 

“you’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

next thing she knows, matty is holding her softly against the wall and kissing her bare neck. he softly caresses her waist through her dress and she shivers against the warm spring breeze. she can feel him shaking too, almost like he’s…nervous to do anything more. to actually kiss her and shatter the moment. she can’t have that, can’t let this moment slip through her fingers. 

“kiss me,” she pleads and matty moves in an instant, his warm mouth capturing hers. like he was only waiting for her permission.  

his lips are a little chapped. far from perfect and yet electricity zings through her all at once. if it weren’t for the wall, her legs might have given out from under her. she might just be a heap on the floor, surrounded by all the spring flowers. 

matty kisses with such reckless abandon that it steals her breath away. kisses her until her heart swells in her chest, ready to burst. her fingers tangle themselves into his hair and she kisses him back with everything in her. she can’t care less about how public this is, there’s only him in this moment. 

only the two of them on a warm spring night suspended in this one moment.

she almost whines when matty pulls back. annoyed beyond belief that he’d pull away now. 

“mat—”

“it’s late.”

“it’s not!”

“it is, love.” suddenly his voice has gone gentle, almost quiet. matty pulls his old phone out of his pocket (with the screen cracked and all) and holds it in front of her. the screen flashes with 11:17

shit where did all the time go?

matty makes no move to untangle himself from her arms, still pressed against her. in her ead she forms a childlike grudge against his phone. if it weren’t for it, they would have never known what time it was…

“i hate this.” her voice comes out thick with tears and something wet hits her nose. “i don’t want to go, i don’t want you to go. please.” but even then she knows how unfair it is to put him in this situation. 

matty’s caresses her cheek, wiping away her tears, smiling at her like she’s the most gentle precious thing in the whole world. 

and maybe she is. in his world. 

“you’ll finish school too,” he says, voice a low murmur, “and then you have a uni to attend. so much shit to do. god, you’re brilliant enough to get everything you want.”

but it’s you i want. still she doesn’t say it. not just yet. 

she nuzzles his palm instead, placing a soft kiss on it. “i hate spring. i wish it was autumn instead. i’d be starting uni at least.”

“and you will,” matty reassures again. “you’re going to do so many things.”

“you won’t be here to see them…”

and there it is, all the things she’s been holding deep inside laid bare. matty looks at her for a long time and smiles sadly. “who said that? i’d find you, we will keep in touch. isn’t spring meant to be about new beginnings and all that? so why don’t we start a pact?”

“that’s a silly idea,” she teases but even then she’s eager to know what he means. 

matty ignores it. “stay here for spring and summer, finish school. i’ll find you when autumn comes.”

“you’d really do that?”

“who’s gonna help you move into uni halls huh?”

through tears she laughs. only matty could make it sound so exciting. only matty could make her hate it so much less. 

she doesn’t trust herself to speak anymore so she kisses him instead. he tastes like peaches, mint and something sweet. the very first boy she’s ever loved. the boy she will always love. 

he’s leaving soon, she knows it. who knows maybe she will wake up tomorrow and he will be gone. she feels all that passes between them and she tries to send all her longing and all her yearning down that bond. for a brief second she is determined to make matty stay through sheer willpower. 

but that would be the most selfish thing she’s ever done. and so she smiles and lets him go. 

matty might be leaving but she’ll always have this one warm spring night. even as the clock inches towards midnight and a new day threatens to arrive.

for a brief moment she wonders if she can make time stand still. this one moment stretched into eternity. 

but the minutes tick by anyway. and tomorrow comes anyway.

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[r0-boat]

Whb kings at an amusement park

Beelzebub invites you and the kings to the greatest amusement park in all of hell located in his Abyssos.

And amusement park based in hell peaks your interest and since you're being invited along with the rest of the kings You would be dumb to not take it.

Satan

Gehenna has an amusement park. However, it is very different from Abyssos. Abyssos are more closely related to amusement parks on Earth, whereas in Gehenna, their parks are more active. So, honestly, Satan was a little confused when he could have found any trampolines or rock climbing walls or anything to punch and destroy for fun. However, the culture shock dies when he tries to ride a roller coaster. And he loves it! Holy fuck he loved roller coasters. Satan is an adrenaline junkie. Any fast ride that spins or goes fast or dives or drops he will be going there so fast. He will ride it till he pukes and then ride it again. The games he thinks are a little lacking, but only because his idea of games is something more active where he runs or, tosses, or swings something to get the aggression out.

Mammon

Mammon wishes he could ride the roller coasters but he does not think the seats will fit his size. in his personal opinion he finds the amusement parks and any other entertainment in Abyssos far more entertaining than the ones in tartaros. Since the people of Tartaros are more into electronic games and are more interested in staying in their luxurious houses and spending their money on material items and luxurious treatment, Mammon has yet to see an amusement park in Tartaros; well unless you count Resorts. Mammon will try any ride and he will love it all the same. Though he doesn't get how games work. Why work so hard to win one toy if he could get you hundreds of the same little stuff plush. So strange...

Leviathan

He hates this place. He hates everything about it! It's loud, crowded, and noisy; there are too many people he doesn't know. He wants to go home. Why is Abyssos so great? The parks in Hades are more relaxing, soothing, and tasteful than the rickety steel contraption that he barely trusts, which probably breaks all safety violations. He will only ride the slow, nice rides.

Levi is a master at the mini-games tho. (It's almost as if he had centuries of training. What? No. What are you talking about? Shut up! He has never seen this place in his life!) He will gladly show you anything, and it's fun to see you struggle at the stupid mini-game, where he can master it in one shot without even looking at the target.

Beelzebub

He knew you would like this park. It is grander than any park on earth. It has everything you could ever dream of and more no really everything... A Roman gladiator coliseum where demons fist fight bare naked where anyone could join in. The only rule was no killing each other. (inspired by the ancient Romans)

Beel is also a master at the games here and knows every ride and tells you how many times he's gone on it in his lifetime. He makes you try the food and the rides. He challenges Levi to the games "like the good old times." The reason why he invites you or the kings to a lot of his parties is because he likes to be a host. He's gluttony and he wants to have fun and he wants more fun, and what's more fun than sharing the fun with other people?

And then he gets swept up into the crowd. Damn it now you have to find him...

Lucifer

Interesting. He's never seen this side of hell before. An amusement park or anything entertaining like that is such a lost concept to him. He doesn't even know what to do. You must teach him to ride things, Play mini-games, and have fun. Which the Kings will happily do. Not every day do you teach the once God's favorite angel who has now fallen how to do ring toss. With every game and ride he goes on, He has more and more fun, and at the end, he responds with a simple "I like it," "It's okay," and "I don't mind it."

Belphegor+Beleth

Beleth got the king of sloth in one of those pull carts. Beleth doesn't mind; consider him as one of the kings. Honestly, he wants to catch up with Beel. Beleth plays all the games and rides for him until Beleth scolds him or Belphegor finally wants to get up from the cart and do something. Other than that, Belphegor is completely okay with watching. He prefers it. He likes watching. He feels like he's in the vicinity, he's participating in some way even though he's not actively doing anything.

The one ride he went on was the lazy river, which he proclaimed wasn't lazy enough. After that, he says he'll go on any other ride that doesn't move too fast, and all he has to do is sit. Other than that, he is happy just sitting here trying all the food, playing a game, or sitting with the stuff. He asks Beleth to take videos and photos.

[little-diable]

Labour - Tommy Shelby

This came to me as I listened to “Labour” by Paris Paloma, and boy, do I love love love this story. Be aware that this is somewhat loosely set in S2, but it doesn’t really follow the shows plot line. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: While Tommy keeps pulling away from his wife, she gets tangled in a web of lies to protect her husband, making deals behind his back with his enemies.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unrotected piv, troubling relationship but with a happy end, mentions some fighting and misogyny

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (3.5k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

Why are you hanging on so tight, to the rope that I'm hanging from?

“Oh (y/n), isn’t it lovely how naive you women all are?” Inspector Campbell’s voice echoed through the small side street, lips pulled into a grin that made bile rise in (y/n)‘s throat. Her eyes didn’t dare back away from the contact he held, not wanting to come off as scared. 

“I have no time for games, inspector. It’s the same deal as always, you’ll pull your men away from our area tomorrow, and you’ll get your money, easy as that.” Her fingers searched for a cigarette in the pocket of her warm coat, sighing in relief as she finally felt the familiar paper against her fingertips. He watched her light the cigarette with his sharp gaze, forcing holes into her skin like bullets made to kill. 

“Do you really think your money still satisfies me?” He took a step closer, but (y/n) didn’t move, she held her ground, blowing the smoke of her cigarette into his direction. With the click of his tongue he came to a halt like Hades himself coming to claim Persephone, forced into a bond that held more power over her than she liked. “We both know how much your husband loves you, but how will he react to your betrayal? How will he react once he hears about the deals you force his enemies into?” 

She wanted to laugh at his words, finding amusement in the way he imagined her marriage, full of love that had once been but no longer was. His cold hand found her chin, gripping it all too tightly. With a growl rumbling through her, (y/n) pulled away, throwing the burned out cigarette to the ground. 

“Your threats may work on others, but not on me, Campbell. We both know you need the money as much as a child needs its food. I have no problem with asking others who like to do business with me to take care of you and the pathetic excuse of a life you live.” He clenched his jaw, hands balled into fists as his tongue kissed his teeth. For a few seconds neither of them spoke up, letting the silence rest heavy on their shoulders. 

“Fine, we’ll keep your streets empty tomorrow, I’ll expect the money by Friday, not one day later.” The inspector turned from the now grinning woman, disappearing in the dark shadows lingering around them. Only as (y/n) knew that he no longer could see her did she wipe away her fake smirk, back clashing against the nearest wall, bracing herself. 

By now (y/n) was all too used to making deals with those that could interfere with her husband’s business, taking over the work he didn’t know about, believing that everything was simply working out in his favour. But fate hadn’t been nice with Tommy Shelby, at least not till (y/n) had stumbled into his life, slowly taking over, working in the shadows Tommy found no interest in. 

It was a dangerous game she was playing, set on giving her life for the man she loved more than any words could describe, walking closer to God than any other woman she has ever crossed paths with. 

All for a man who asked more from her than he’d ever be able to understand, drawing away from his once loving touches, fully focused on his business rather than his failing marriage.

Who fetches the water from the rocky mountain spring? And walk back down again to feel your words and their sharp sting and I'm getting fucking tired

……

“Where have you been?” Tommy’s voice echoed through their dark bedroom, naked upper body bare to her now wide eyes. She hadn’t expected him to come home tonight, preferring to stay away from their quiet home that had once been filled with love. (Y/n) stood in the middle of their bedroom, shaking off her coat with a sigh rumbling through her.

“I was at Margret’s, you know how much she struggles with her new baby.” The lie rolled off her tongue all too effortlessly, even though his piercing eyes didn’t leave her features once, trying to figure out if she was speaking the truth. Slowly (y/n) laid down next to him, no longer used to feeling Tommy this close. Without anticipating his next movements, (y/n) flinched away as his hand found her chin, grasping her just like Campbell had done, digging into the forming bruises. 

“We need you here, it was your call to take over the household, this home needs its woman, just like I do.” His voice had an almost threatening touch to it, forcing a sharp inhale of cold air into her aching lungs. (Y/n)’s hands tightened their grip on the warm blanket, searching the comfort of the bed she had been sleeping in alone for weeks that have felt like years.

“What is a home with a woman without a husband to share her marriage with? Don’t you lecture me on my whereabouts when you’ve been hiding from me like a scared boy for weeks, Thomas.” (Y/n) turned from Tommy before he could reply, squeezing her eyes shut with her teeth buried in her lower lip. In these moments she desperately wanted to speak up, and wanted to lay all her deals on the oblivious husband that didn’t even notice where his money was going. And yet she kept her mouth shut. 

She felt his eyes on the back of her head for a few more moments before Tommy shuffled around in their bed, wordlessly placing his arm around her waist to draw her into his naked chest. And with a squeeze of her hand, the both of them gave into the call of darkness, searching for some much needed hours of sleep. 

And the silence haunts our bed chamber, you make me do too much labour

……

“Please sit, love. Tea?” Alfie Solomon’s voice echoed through the new apartment, leaving (y/n) smiling. She nodded her head, sinking into the comfortable chair with a sigh. “You look tired, is your husband keeping you on your toes lately?”

“I barely see him around these days, so there’s not much going on to keep me on my toes. How have you been, Alfie?” The man fumbled with his glasses, watching her as if he was expecting (y/n) to strike any moment now. 

“You see, a smart man knows to never cross a woman like you, your wicked mind will one day force us all to our knees, if it weren’t for your eyes.” She pondered over his words for a moment, head slightly tilted to the side, wondering what the man was talking about.

“It’s as if God himself had spoken to me, Alfie, he’d say, she’s dangerous, worse than any enemy you’ve ever killed, but her eyes tell you all about her sadness, about the help she needs but won’t ask for.” A laugh bubbled out of (y/n), eyes fluttering close to let go of a tired sigh. Her hand found her forehead, rubbing her temples to get rid of the headache that kept tourmenting her, robbing much needed hours of sleep from her. 

“You’ve always had a talent with words, Alfie. Can’t believe the young Jewish boy I once shared my bread with is now trying to lecture me on my way of living.” Alfie’s throaty chuckles reverberated through the room, welcoming the warm memories of the moments he and (y/n) have shared all those years ago. Once they’ve been nothing more than oblivious children, searching for the comfort one another could offer. 

“Tell me, what is it this time you need? I’m meeting your husband tonight, so you better tell me now if you want me to kill him, yeah? I always told you, you should have married me, would certainly have saved you from all these struggles.” Her hand found his, squeezing the fingers she had always been reaching for, needing the man she loved like a brother close, though keeping their relationship hidden from the husband that didn’t know anything about the dark past she had been forced to live through. 

“It feels as if something is going to happen, I can’t lose him, Alfie. Who did you do business with lately?” Their eyes didn’t break contact, not as he took a sip of the hot tea, not as he leaned back in his chair, eyes flickering from hers to the big windows. Rain was pouring from the dark sky, pitterpattering against the windows that gave off a view others would pay too much money for, not knowing what else to invest in. The end was near, both could feel it, even though they wouldn’t share the same end, ripped away from one another by wrongdoings that were still buried six feet under like rotten corpses. 

“The business is rough, you’ve got to survive somehow, yeah? Always remember that, love.”

……

The cold lingering in her home had something almost amusing to it, a clear reflection of her relationship with the man who had once lured her into this house, promising her a life that had been nothing more than a game, a dream so fulfilling she couldn’t help but ache for it. (Y/n)‘s feet met the ground, staring at the watch that told her there was still enough time till evening would roll upon her, wondering how the meeting between Alfie and Tommy would play out.

“(Y/n)?” Tommy’s voice left her frozen, head whipping towards her husband. 

“What are you doing at home? Two days in a row, did something happen?” With his hand stretched out for her to take, he slowly pulled her closer, gently cupping her cheek. Tommy studied her for a few moments, the confusion swimming in her gaze, the tension clinging to her body. She quietly thanked herself for covering the bruises on her chin with enough makeup to hide what had happened from the man with eyes so piercing he’d outshine the stars twinkling in the night sky. 

No words left him as he kissed her, making her gasp at the almost unfamiliar touch. Her arms found their way around his neck instantly, not daring to break the contact she had been aching for. Tommy tasted of cigarettes, of expensive alcohol, and of secrets he never intended to share with her, not knowing that she knew more about the business than he ever will. He tasted of everything he once hadn’t tasted of as their paths had crossed years ago, changing into a ruthless man that toyed with those keeping him company.

He pushed her against their dinner table, forcing her to sit on the expensive wood with her legs wrapped around his waist. Moans left the two that tugged on one another’s clothes, needing to scratch the itch that forced them to keep on moving, hands not daring to let go. She was trembling with anticipation thumping through her veins, trying to silence her thoughts, not wanting to pull away from the husband that hadn’t touched her in weeks.

“Don’t, just fuck me, please Tommy.” Her words drew his fingers away from her already soaked folds, undoing his trousers as her lips found his again. The kiss managed to distract her from the feeling of his cock nudging against her entrance, slowly sinking into her tightness. Both moaned in unison, needing to adjust to one another’s body for a moment before they could give in.

“Fuck, I almost forgot how perfect you feel.”

(Y/n) wanted to speak up, wanted to scold him for keeping his distance, but no word managed to leave her, nothing but moans filling the seconds fading by. 

His hips snapped against her middle with every rough thrust, perfectly teasing the swollen spot that made her see stars so bright (y/n) feared she’d end up blinded. The moment wasn’t sweet, wasn’t even loving, but it was everything they needed, distracting them from the racing thoughts that would eventually force their skin from their bones. 

(Y/n) clawed her fingernails into his neck, keeping him close as their moans clashed against one another’s lips, wordlessly communicating their arising high. Soon they’d give in with trembling limbs, racing hearts, and swollen lips, an inferno so strong it’d burn their bodies to the ground.

“You’re mine, don’t you ever forget that.” The possessiveness dripping from his words left her aching her back, head thrown back as she fell over the edge with his name leaving her. Tommy gave it a few more ferocious thrusts before he released himself inside her, painting her walls white. His heat filled her system, clinging to her like a second layer of skin, forever remembering this very moment. 

“I have to leave for some meetings, do me a favour and stay at home tonight, eh?”

I know you're a smart man, and weaponise the false incompetence, it's dominance under a guise

……

“(Y/n)?” Arthur’s voice echoed through the home, luring her from the quiet garden back inside. The older Shelby brother studied her with an unreadable gaze for a few seconds before he cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. “Tommy wants to meet you at the Garrison, I’ll drive you there.”

Wordlessly she followed Arthur outside, fetching her coat before stepping out into the brisk afternoon, wrapping the fabric tightly around her body. She didn’t dare ask any questions, not wanting to distract the man she had shared too many drunk conversations with, turning towards him whenever Tommy left her behind to mingle with those she’d meet in the dark shadows of side streets even the most ruthless gangsters would avoid. 

The houses they passed grew bigger with every street they turned into, housing families that desperately tried to overcome the ruins war had pushed them into, financial struggles that left them drowning in debts. (Y/n)‘s heart ached whenever she walked past those struggling more than her mind could even begin to imagine, living a life filled with sorrows, with fear, with anger. A life she wouldn’t ever want to live.

“Cigarette?” Arthur pushed the cigarette into her hand before he opened the car door for her, allowing her to walk into the all too familiar pub. Only as she set her foot inside did she begin to notice that the pub wasn’t filled with its usual crowd, no, but an unexpected duo was watching her every step. Her insides screamed at her to turn around, breath hitched in her chest.

“Sit.” Her husband pointed towards the chair in front of him, smoking his cigarette with an unemotional expression tugging on his features. Arthur gave her a slight push, forcing (y/n) to walk closer. Her eyes didn’t part from those she had held contact with ever since she had been a child, heart clenching in her chest as she began to realise what was about to happen. 

For a few seconds they were surrounded by nothing but silence, with four pairs of eyes watching the woman, waiting for her to speak up, to ask questions, but (y/n) knew better, keeping her mouth shut. Her eyes fluttered from Tommy to Arthur, to John, and lastly to Alfie. 

“I called Margaret this morning, tell me, (y/n), why did she tell me that she hasn’t seen you in weeks?” Tommy’s sharp voice left her tensing, tongue running along her lower lip to find the right words to speak. But she couldn’t, her throat was too tight, mouth too dry to even articulate a single word threatening to leave her pressed together lips. “You see, at first I didn’t think any of it, it’s true, I pulled away from the marriage I should have paid more attention to, but if I’d known that my own wife would betray me, I would have locked you up in our bedroom. Tell me, how deep does your betrayal run?”

A scoff left (y/n), ignoring her husband’s words as her eyes focused on Alfie. She tilted her head to the side, just like she had done the day prior, thinking through their conversation again before she finally broke the silence, “This is what you call surviving, Alfie? Going against your oldest and most trusted friend? And don’t you dare to tell me God fucking told you to go against me. What are you even getting out of this?” 

She couldn’t help but pick up on the confusion now swimming in Tommy’s pupils, gaze flickering between (y/n) and Alfie.

“It’s like I told you, yeah, surviving is always what you should focus on. Your husband here is a bit slow, but he asked questions you gave me no answer to.” Alfie kept his voice calm, keeping details from her she’d have to beg for. She had always known that he was giving into more deals than any other gangster she knew, eventually betraying those he treated like his own family. But not once had (y/n) even dared to think that he’d betray her. 

“Arthur, John, show Alfie Solomons the way out, I have some things to talk about with my wife.” Tommy’s eves didn’t leave hers, not as Alfie rose to his feet, coming to a halt next to (y/n) to try and squeeze a shoulder, a touch she flinched away from, not as Arthur and John disappeared outside with Alfie slowly following them. And once again (y/n) and Tommy were engulfed by the all too familiar silence they’ve grown to accept, but today it had an uncomfortable touch to it, making her skin crawl. 

“Solomons and who else? Who else did you do business with?” She kept quiet, squeezing her eyes shut as Tommy smashed his palm flat against the table. Anger flushed through his veins, too blind to see through the fog of confusion he was trapped in, not understanding what she had done and why she had done these deals after all. “Fucking speak to me, woman!”

“Fuck you, Thomas. Do you even understand what I did for you? I saved your life too many times to count. I managed to hold Campbell back as much as possible, I stopped Alfie from giving into deals that would have ended your life before you could even begin to understand what he was doing, even the fucking Italians. But you had to fuck this up, you had to boast your fucking ego, while you were too blind to even realise that your own fucking wife, the one you left behind like some used whore you forgot to pay, was the reason your business kept growing.” She rose to her feet, walking past Tommy to pour herself a glass of bourbon, drowning the shot in one go. Her eyes fluttered close as the alcohol burned down her throat, welcoming the distraction from the pain that forced her heart to clench. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have worked together.” No longer did his voice carry any anger, almost quiet as if he was whispering. Slowly she turned back towards him, keeping her distance with her back pressed against the bar. 

“Work together? You pushed me away whenever I tried to speak to you about the business. You were simply too proud to work with your wife, so I had to take matters into my own hands before your pride would kill you.” He lit a cigarette, pulling it from his lips to reach it out for her to take. It took (y/n) a second to snap into motion, walking towards her husband with slow, calculated steps. His hand snapped out to grasp her wrist, pulling her into his lap before she could turn away. 

“What shall I do with you, woman?” She deeply inhaled, letting the smoke flush through her lungs, leaving deathly marks that would eventually be her death call, should the business she was now fully trapped in not catch up with her first. “You won't tell those you do business with that I know about this, perhaps we can use this to our advantage. But I need you to be honest with me from now on, are we clear?”

“Who would have thought we’d ever end up doing business with one another, mister Shelby.“ He took the cigarette from her, placing it between his lips for one last drag, watching her with curiosity filling his pupils. „I have one condition though.”

“Come home to me, Tommy, I won’t endure the silence in our home any longer.” 

[cemeteryspider]

Strings of Fate: The Puppet-Master

Luke Castellan x Child of Poseidon!/Blood-Bender! Reader

Summary: The reader finds themself in the throws of a God's war, learning about themself and the world around them. They decide the confide in Luke Castellan about their unique ability to manipulate the water in blood.

~Sorry if Luke is a little OOC I tried my best~

Trigger Warnings: Self-harm *one instance and is healed quickly*, Canon Typical Violence, Blood, Loss of a Loved One *Sally Jackson*, and Emotional Distress

As Sally Jackson’s oldest child, I've always been a little overprotective of my little brother Percy Jackson. This included taking the fall for him at school so his transcript stayed as clean as possible. I became a force to be reckoned with because people beat up on Percy, and after a while, no one wanted to mess with Percy’s psycho older sibling. Or at our latest school when Percy stabbed through his pre-algebra teacher with a gleaming golden sword that was a ballpoint pen the moment before, and I tried my best to mitigate the situation.

After that, life was a blur. Going to the cabin and learning about our dad was a crazy moment because Mom rarely spoke about him. Yet, we were utterly unprepared for the loss of our mother.   

“You are my children, brave the storm. I love you.”

Then we were running away from our mom and away from the minotaur. We saw Sally Jackson turn to dust in the minotaur’s grasp, and in a second, Percy was running back and fighting the minotaur. Grover grabbed my arm and shook his head at me, but I ripped away and ran towards the only family I know I have left.

On his back, holding one of the minotaur’s horns in his hands and groaning, I shouted at the thing towering over him ready to strike in a moments notice.

“Hey! Get away from him!”

It turned toward me and huffed at me. For a moment I was scared, then I started throwing rocks. I was angry and used as much force possible. Then it grasped me in its fist like mom and started to squeeze. I began to give up, but then something spoke to me.

“Reach out, Y/n, take control.”

Following the advice literally, I extended my hand toward the minotaur. Closing my eyes, I waited, striving for control. Its hold around me loosened, and I found myself taking a look at what’s happening around me. I got a glimpse of the minotaur’s blood flowing from its nose into the air. Percy jumped into the air and stabbed the back of the minotaur’s skull with its own horn.

~~~

Luke put his arm around my shoulders when I stopped reciting the story and gave me a little squeeze.

“Hey, it's gonna be okay. We’re going to figure this out together.”

I tucked my face in the crook of his neck and kept crying. The night was cool around us in the woods near the cabins.

“I’m so scared, and I just don’t know what’s happening to me. I mean, what am I supposed to do? I’m just trying to keep it together for Percy because he’s already scared and upset, but I’m scared and upset too, Luke.”

He put his hand on my head and threaded his fingers through my hair. Luke let me cry until I calmed down, and I decided I wanted to show him.

“Give me your dagger…”

“What?”

“Please, I need to prove it to myself�� I’m not crazy.”

He slid the dagger from his sheath and flipped it to hand me the hilt. I quickly and carefully split the inside of my palm open. Luke took a sharp intake of breath as I squeezed my hand into a fist.

“Y/n, what are you doing?”

I unclenched my fist and focused on the cut. I closed my eyes and let myself be in control.

“How the Hades are you doing that?”

Again, I allowed my eyes to open, and my blood was flowing around my hand and into the air. After a deep breath, my blood hit the floor of the forest.

“Come here.”

He held out his hand, and I took it in my not bloody one as he led me to a small creek not too far away. He submerged my hand into the creek, and it started to heal immediately.

“Thanks, Luke. I just… I’m not crazy.”

“I believed you before, you know.”

“Maybe I didn’t,” I said quietly.

He enveloped me in his arms, and I allowed myself to fall apart completely. After all this time of keeping Percy out of trouble and protecting him, it felt nice to be held and taken care of.

“Come on, let's get you to bed, and we’ll talk in the morning. Okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

After a minute, he pulled away and led me by the hand to Cabin 3 carefully, avoiding the harpies looking for campers out of bed.

“Could you stay?”

“I can do that, as long as you don’t mind getting up a little early and waking up Hermes Cabin.”

“Yeah, I can do that with you.”

“I’m going to sleep in Percy’s bed so I don’t crowd you, you know.”

“Yeah, just with Percy gone, it’s lonely… I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t sharing a room with someone.”

“I’ll be here. Get to sleep, I’m sure you’re tired.”

I tiredly climbed into my bed as Luke climbed into the bed that Percy slept in not a day ago. As I went to sleep, I heard Luke’s soft breaths fill the cabin.

~~~

I woke up with a start, and Luke had his hand on my arm.

“Hey, Hey, you’re okay. You just had a bad dream Darling. You’re okay. Take some deep breaths.”

I quickly blinked, vaguely remembering the nightmare I had. I saw Mom disintegrating into nothing, and then Percy in the minotaur’s fist, life draining from his eyes and disintegrating into nothing. Particles of ash mingling with Mom’s.

“Breathe with me, Y/n. In and out. In and out.”

I slowly matched my erratic breathing with his, and as the minutes went by, I started to calm down.

“See, you’re okay. I promise everything is okay. You’re safe.”

“T-thank you, Luke… Sorry for waking you up.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I just want to help you, Darling.”

“Still…”

A couple more deep breaths.

“Are you okay now, darling?”

“I’m okay now, thank you.”

“I’m gonna go back to sleep so I can get up in a few hours, okay?”

He took one step, and I reached for his hand.

“Could you… hold me, please?”

He just smiled at me and lifted the covers to get underneath.

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Rudra headcanons with Tanjiro!fem!reader

warnings: anime/manga spoilers, ooc, violence

Here it is guys, my collaboration work @deathmetalunicorn1.  Definitely go check out their blog, they are an incredible writer and deserve lots of love! @praisethesuuun I really hope you will like this piece as I know how much you adore this big guy :) With that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy! :)

You rested your hand against a tree, panting softly as you wiped a small bead of sweat from your brow, having been hiking in these mountains for almost two hours, the blue-hazy skies darkening to nighttime. If it weren’t for the full moon tonight, traveling through here would be a lot more difficult. Thankfully Nezuko was sleeping soundly in her box that was strapped on your back, not stirring by your uneven steps as you resumed the ascension to a high peak in the Hindu pantheon.

Although you had done your best to persuade the Hashira and Lord Ubuyashiki in the trial that Nezuko would not attack humans, Lord Hades was not convinced. He will, however, grant you an opportunity to prove yourself as an unofficial member of the Demon Slayer Corps. This is the mission you and Nezuko were currently undertaking: investigate reported sightings of demons, and if able, eradicate them. They were supposedly hiding within this very mountain range, targeting the gods in the Hindu pantheon to test their strength and devour their opponent’s divine flesh. 

Hades left the decision up in the air if you think you could handle the demon, which did make you feel a little hopeful. He was starting to trust you a bit more after you completed your last few missions. That’s good, right? It had to be. If that wasn’t the case, you’d still be at the Butterfly Mansion, anxiously waiting for your next assignment. 

You reached a clearing near some rocks when a cacophony of sounds reached your ears; the sound of bones breaking, blows being landed, and yelling. Your eyes widened in horror before quickening your pace, breaking into a sprint as the noise got louder in the northwest direction. You zigzagged through the juniper trees, narrowly dodging the branches, never slowing down till you saw a four-armed, tattooed deity exchanging fists with a drooling, pale demon. The other two were sneaking in the shadows, ready to pounce for a sneak attack. 

If it wasn’t the sight of a god trying to take on three demons did not shock you, it was the sight that they, and you, were standing in a field of bright red spider lilies. Blue ones bloomed right in the center, where the fighting was taking place. Some of the petals were missing, other flowers were uprooted entirely, meaning  that these demons must have eaten the blue spider lilies to gain an energy boost and an immunity to the sunlight. 

They had to be destroyed, now. 

You quickly drew your sword. “Get down!!” Inhaling sharply through your teeth and catapulting into the air, the tip of the flaming nichirin blade slicing through the surrounding trees, the invisible threat, and finally, decapitating the lurking demons. You landed in front of the deity, who looked quite shocked at seeing someone rescuing him. 

Perhaps gods aren’t used to being helped when they’ve done all the helping. 

The third demon snarled as his amber orbs glared darkly at you. “Do not interfere, Demon Slayer!”

You shifted your feet, ready to attack when suddenly the weight on your back shifted, causing you to jostle more to the right as you felt Nezuko’s foot slam the box open…just to see your adorable little sister leap out and attack a fourth demon that you hadn’t seen nor sensed. They must be getting smarter at concealing their scent! 

While Nezuko handled that one, you dealt with the other demon, attacking it first with the Hinogami Kagura. You could trust Nezuko to fight against a demon…she’s proven to you time and time again that she isn’t weak; she’s strong, stronger than anyone you’ve ever known. Because of that strength, that will, she didn’t give into the hunger nor succumb to Muzan’s control. 

Once both demons were dispatched, your tense shoulders relaxed as you carefully sheathed the black blade back into its scabbard. You swiveled your gaze to the deity, seeing that he was siting against one of the trees and clutching his side.  Unknotting the dark purple pouch from your belt on the left side, you raced over to him and began pulling out gauze, medicinal oils, and a few other things Shinobu gave to you before leaving the Butterfly Mansion for this mission. 

“Are you all right? Are you in any pain? Do you feel dizzy, nauseous? Did any of the demons scratch you?” You fired question after question as your hands opened the jar of oil for bruising and pain relief,  praying that he had not been poisoned. He didn’t seem to be showing any symptoms, but should you have Nezuko use her Blood Demon Art to purify the toxins that might still be in his system?

He was silent for a moment before he quickly answered. “No, they just tried to overwhelm me with a barrage of punches, though one of them did get close to scratching me. No dizziness, don’t feel sick either. Would…something happen if they did scratch me?”

You nodded, carefully spreading the peppermint-scented oil into his skin, muttering an apology as he flinched. “You would have been poisoned, and there would be purple spots all over your skin by now, followed by difficulty breathing and heart beating rapidly,” You looked up at him and smiled. “I’m so glad I made it in time before things got worse!”

Nezuko hummed in agreement, extending a clawed hand and giving him a pat on the head. The deity blinked before he gave you a grin. “Thank you, both of you. I had no idea those…demons would be all the way up here. One moment I was training, then the next, I was going toe-to-toe with them!”

“Did any of them eat those blue flowers over there?” You asked.

“Uh, yeah. Two, maybe all four? Sorry, everything happened so fast-”

“No need to apologize!” You quickly reassured him. “I just need to document what happened here and send it back with my lord’s crow to headquarters. Would you mind giving a statement?”

“No, of course not. Whatever you need.” 

You beamed. “Thank you!” Now that the oil was rubbed thoroughly into his skin, you made quick work with wrapping the gauze around his stomach and the bruised areas. Once it was secure but not too tight, Hades’ majestic and very large crow landed by your feet, cawing. Around its neck was a scroll. 

 Pulling out an ink stone and brush from a compartment on the top part inside Nezuko’s box, you poured some of the water from your leather canteen (another gift from Shinobu, she’s so thoughtful! And it’s from a foreign country too!) into the ink stone. 

Carefully rubbing the ink stick up and down, a small puddle of obsidian ink appeared in the center of the stone. Grabbing the pen and carefully removing the scroll from the crow’s neck, you wrote in great detail what had happened here, including Rudra’s account of the events and the discovery of the blue spider lilies. Lord Hades valued reports that were detailed but not too long or unrelated to the mission. 

At least your calligraphy was getting better!

Once you were satisfied with the report, you placed the rolled up scroll back around the crow’s neck and watched it flight, disappearing into the night skies. Turning your attention to Rudra, you almost laughed at seeing Nezuko sitting in his lap, curiously playing with his hands. 

“I don’t want to be rude, but why would a bunch of flowers like these…blue spider lilies, be so important to demons? As I recalled, they gain their strength by eating human flesh.”

You nodded, collecting the medical supplies and putting them back in the pouch. “And you’re absolutely correct, Lord Rudra. Human flesh does increase their abilities, including physical strength. But when a blue spider lily is consumed by a demon, it grants them the ability to withstand the sunlight. They’re…nocturnal? That’s what Aoi and Kanao told me.” You thought for a moment before nodding. “Yes, that’s it. They’re active at night, but if they can’t find shade once the sun comes up…they’re as good as dead. They burn up, catch on fire.” 

Rudra released a low whistle. “No wonder they were pissed when they saw me near them. They must’ve thought I’d try to take them or something. So…you’re a Demon Slayer. I’ve heard about you guys…but does this sort of thing…happen all of the time?” He asked, gesturing his hands to the area around the three of you. 

Smiling sheepishly, you scratched the back of your head. 

“Not always. Most of my missions are reconnaissance and information gathering, like this one should have been, but there’s no predictable pattern when it  comes to a demon’s behavior. Still, at least I know for certain that the blue spider lily does exist…whether it will make Nezuko a human again or speed up her demonic transformation is another question.” You frowned sadly, looking down at the blue flower in your hand. “I’m beginning to think it’s more of the latter, unfortunately. Those demons were definitely stronger than ones I’ve encountered so far, and I think it’s because of this plant. Shinobu might know more when I show her some samples. I’ll collect some more to bring back. I hate to ask, but may you make sure she stays with you and not go near me as I collect them, just in case?”

Rudra nodded. He didn’t see much of a problem with entertaining the little one while you did your task. She was adorable, and seemed to love swinging off his biceps. You quickly plucked several of them, carefully storing them in a pouch and tied it to your hip, securing the string near your sword. Nezuko took a little persuasion to get inside her box, pouting as she did not want to stop playing with Rudra yet. 

Now that the mission was completed and the report received by Lord Hades, it was time to rest at a village before making the journey back to the headquarters. Rudra immediately offered to escort the two of you to the nearest one; he knew this mountain range like the back of his hands, so it would be much faster to find shelter before it grew dark. You beamed at him, profusely thanking him as you adjusted the box’s straps on your shoulders. 

The three of you walked through the rocky, uneven terrain, carefully steadying your feet and minding your balance when it got too steep. Rudra helped you along the way, his hands gentle on your exhausted body as the adrenaline finished pumping through your blood after the fight. The three of you eventually took shelter in a cave. You insisted that the two of you switch shifts in case an animal or another demon came by. This way you could keep patching up his wounds with the herbs you brought with you, at Shinobu’s insistence. Rudra tried to resist, saying as a god he’ll heal by dawn, but you had yet to see a deity recover from a demon’s attack. 

For tonight, at least let you take care of him. That was when Rudra gave in but you did not know why his face was slightly red. It didn’t feel hot in the cave at all. You shrugged it off and changed the bandages, pressing the herbs into the mouth of the wound before settling in a corner of the cave with Nezuko’s box by your side. Rudra offered to take the first watch. You gladly complied with his insistence to sleep first. 

Thankfully, not a single creature came to the cave even between the four hour shifts between you and Rudra. By dawn, you roasted some wild berries and fish that Rudra found, and resumed the journey.  Five days later, just when the sun had gone down, you had reached the foot of the mountain where the village was located. Hopefully, there would be a gate that you could pass through instead of taking an airship. 

The supreme gods were the only ones allowed to pass through the fractured Bifrost gate while the other pantheon deities would use the normal gates that can teleport them wherever they needed to go. Mortal souls, however, had to use mechanical airships. 

Demon Slayers were allowed to pass through the gates that the other gods used with an authorized Wisteria Pass. The Hashira and their successors would use the Iridescent Pass when traveling between Valhalla and Helheim to patrol the Bifrost. In your case, however, you were given a temporary Butterfly Pass since you were an ‘unofficial’ member of the organization. You’d get the Wisteria Pass once you proved to Lord Hades that Nezuko would never harm a human. 

Mechanical airships wouldn’t have bothered you so much if it weren’t for the steep price or how the scent of the smoke and oily gears made you nauseous. It was better to take your chances with the Butterfly Pass and travel on foot. 

You were a bit sad to part ways with Rudra, as he had been nothing but kind to you and Nezuko. He had healed properly as he said he would, so he wouldn’t run into any more trouble with demons any time soon. But your work is finished here. Time to go somewhere new. 

You bowed to the god, and Nezuko gave him a big hug before rushing towards the gate. He smiled, waving good-bye and watching as the two of you disappeared behind the gate in a swirl of blue light. 

What you didn’t realize is that Rudra felt the same. He didn’t want you to leave as he wanted to get to know you a bit more, though he understood that everything you were doing was for Nezuko. You wanted your little sister to become human again, and if working for the Demon Slayer Corps could provide any information on a cure, you’d take it in a heartbeat. Shaking his head, Rudra departed the village. Since he was in the area, might as well visit Shiva. It had been a while since the two of them had talked. 

But that bastard was laughing his ass off by the time he finished his story about what happened in the mountains. Rudra frowned, crossing his arms as he sat across from his old friend. “Really?”

“Uh, yeah! Not only were ya saved by a mortal woman workin’ under Hades from some demons, ya even got a little crush on her? C’mon, it’s almost cute!” Shiva exclaimed, leaning back against his large pillow. His wives, all three of them, giggled in agreement with knowing eyes as they sat around the god of creation and destruction. 

“And you’re not even bothered by the fact these flowers that can increase a demon’s strength is growing here -“

“Rudra, if it were really a problem as ya make it out to be, I would have handled it a while ago with or without Hades’ consent.” Shiva interrupted. “ ‘Sides, you and your Demon Slayer know where they are, right?  That organization will do its job. All I can do is watch, then I’ll intervene if things get too dicey or Hades doesn’t do his job.”

…Dammit, Shiva got him there. Shaking his head, Rudra chatted with everyone for a little longer before he turned in for the night. Shiva insisted since he’d been long overdue for a visit that included alcohol and a good brawl with the other gods. 

The more things changed, the more things stayed the same. By morning, the tempest god was wandering again yet his thoughts kept straying to the image of a swordswoman and her little sister, vanquishing demons and saving lives wherever they went. 

For their sake, he hoped that Nezuko would become a human again. 

Several months later, Rudra was traveling through the jurisdiction under Indra’s protection when he stepped into a derelict village. Wooden buildings possessed large, gaping holes in them or laid on the ground, their foundations utterly destroyed. Men, women, and children wept over small stone mounds as others were scurrying out of the village with their belongings strapped to their backs. He was shocked. He’s known some belligerent deities in the Svarga, but none were stupid enough to launch an attack like this ever since Shiva ascended as pantheon leader! 

Who was responsible? What happened here?

In between helping the grateful villagers with moving some of the larger structures and cheering up the children, he asked around. All he got was the same story:

“Believe me, if Lord Indra were here, none of this would have happened. But because he had been in a battle recently, he is still recovering at the temple. It had been like any other evening, quiet and uneventful when an old man with a large lump on top of his head came here, seeking to know the location of a ‘blue spider lily’. He was crying…and shaking too, as if he didn’t even want to be here!” A woman snapped, her blue orbs narrowed and face bright red with tear streaks. “We said we didn’t know anything about it, and then all of a sudden his body morphed…no, he split up his body into four, five individuals! Each of them were powerful, sadistic, and showed no mercy when we told him the truth about that flower!”

“Yeah, he couldn’t have been a god, and not a mortal like us!” The little boy by her side exclaimed, clutching a wooden toy sword in his hand. “But when the winged one with yellow eyes tried to use another attack from his mouth, he got kicked by a girl with a muzzle in her mouth! She was super strong, and my age too! There were two others with her, pretty ladies! One with dark red hair, and the other had braids, her hair was pink and green. Pink and green!” He emphasized. “Oh, and a rude guy too!” 

Rudra’s eyes instantly widened. He knew exactly who the mother and son were talking about, and his heart began to pound against his rib cage. “What happened to them?”

Another older woman spoke up, her gaze low and gravelly voice wavering. “The young lass with dark red hair and the boy did their best to protect us, trying to evacuate us before things got worse. They fought against those monsters, all of them…yet even though they defeated them…they did not leave the battle unscathed. The lass and the little girl were taken by the young maiden with green and pink hair and the boy to a place called the Butterfly Mansion. Last I heard, their condition was not good.” 

Rudra thanked them profusely for the information and took off, promising to inform the other gods what happened and to send help as soon as possible. 

Shiva was understandably furious about the whole situation, and yes, he had been made aware of it before Rudra stepped foot in the Little Palace. He’d already spoken to Lord Hades of the Greek Pantheon; suppliers, builders, and the Demon Slayer’s kakushi were en route to provide relief and support to the village. 

He was going to tease the shit out of Rudra when his friend asked him about the Butterfly Mansion but wisely kept his mouth shut under Paravati’s infamous, withering ‘look’. The one that clearly says don’t even think about being snarky with him, this is not the time nor the place. So being the good husband and friend that he is, Shiva complied and told Rudra everything he needed to know.

Durga might the feisty one, but Paravati was not one to piss off if he wanted to get laid tonight. 

As per the namesake, the Butterfly Mansion was a modest Japanese estate affiliated with the Demon Slayer Corps as a recovery base for the soldiers. Its master, Lady Kocho, was both a beautiful and intimidating human woman even in Rudra’s perspective. 

Dark purple hair pulled back and held together with a butterfly-shaped barrette, a butterfly-winged haori draped over the standard Demon Slayer uniform. She smiled politely, welcoming him to the estate as they walked down the hallway to the medical wing. If it weren’t for her eyes being closed or her back facing him, the deity was pretty sure that his hostess would rather throw him out than allow any guests to visit critically injured patients. 

But Lord Ubuyashiki, whom Rudra presumed is Lady Kocho’s superior, granted him permission so long as he did not bother the child. 

Nezuko was the one who greeted him first as soon as Lady Kocho slid the door open, leaping into his arms with a big smile. Rudra was quick to catch the little one, his lower arms gently holding her while his upper left hand patted the top of her head. Nezuko seemed all right…but what about [First Name]? 

Rudra felt someone staring at him, and saw that it was Lady Kocho. She seemed…very surprised that Nezuko greeted him so warmly, before her smile softened. 

“You may stay here until as long as you like, but please do not touch [First Name]. I don’t want any of her wounds opening up again.” The threat in her voice was subtle, and Rudra understood very clearly what would happen if he didn’t obey her. He thanked her again, stepping inside the medical wing with Nezuko. Lady Kocho closed the door behind them with a soft ‘chink’. 

The tattooed deity froze upon seeing you tucked under the sheets of the third cot on the right side, fast sleep. Your long dark red hair was splayed out against the pillow, your right leg in a cast and your right arm was hooked up to an IV. Bandages covered your jaw, left hand, and forehead. 

You looked like shit, but you were alive.

His heart like it had shattered into tiny fragments and reassembled all at once, stomach doing acrobats and his hands trembling even as Nezuko led him to one side of the bed. She then climbed into his lap, being careful not to jostle the mattress too much.

Seeing you in a fragile state cruelly reminded Rudra that you were not invincible, despite the power you possessed. You were a mortal, and he was a god. Injuries that would take a mere week to heal was a three to five month period for you. How could he have been so foolish to think otherwise? He should’ve been here, protecting you and Nezuko. 

But that was then…this is now. There is nothing he could do except make sure Nezuko did not get into too much mischief and no one disturbed your rest. He had been planning on leaving again once he was sure you were all right…but it wouldn’t be so bad to stay here until you woke up, would it?

He had something he wanted to ask you. Something very important. But he was a patient man; if he could put up with Shiva’s chaotic antics for thousands of years, he could wait until his precious Demon Slayer was conscious again. 

Taglist:

@enryegotrip

@praisethesuuun

@justamegafan

@nunezs-stuff

@themoonisrising

@potato-studez-hungryformore

@seii-fantasy

@puffy-bangs

@onecantsimply

@zodiacs-web

@mortemorii

@myrisan-melodies

@the-dumber-scaramouche

@dance-till-the-death

@horrorgirlshell

@thequietkid-moonie​

@rukia-writes​

@zebralover

@sarcastic-cookie

[ashoss]

For the bat x pjo thing, I’ve always loved the idea of Jason as a son of poseidon. I know that one’s probably overdone, but I love it a lot!

Just think about it—he’s got the looks, the sheer physical and probably even mystical power, the changeability…he’s just as intelligent as Percy believes he (Percy) isn’t, especially strategically. He was resurrected during heavy rain, which could be an explanation, like Poseidon’s upset his kid died so he’s sending rain to bring him back. He died in the desert, where there’s not a lot of water, and I know it’s a lazarus pit, but he regained his faculties in the water, and in both the comics and the movie, he’s extremely disoriented and falls/is pushed off a cliff into a body of water—but more than that, even if he preempts betrayal later on by leaving first, he is EXTREMELY loyal and will do anything for his friends.

I don’t know if you’ve already heard it, but you should really listen to Ruthlessness from Epic the Musical, with Jason confronting Bruce with the Joker in mind. It’s perfect for that, and that’s actually how I got the idea before I read anything on AO3 with Jason as a son of poseidon.

And I love the idea of Roy as a son of Athena too, you know, extremely clever, invents things but also fights very well, and, even if he’s not great at lying as a leader, is a very good leader anyway. (Kori and Bizarro have their own things, but Artemis, even though she is from Bana-Mighdall, is still descended from the greek amazons, and could be a legacy of a child of Athena, Ares, or Apollo).

And yeah, okay, I feel like Damian kinda has to be a legacy or something, BUT what if he were more like Carter Kane in The Red Pyramid? A vessel for Horus, or something, but a powerful warrior-magician nonetheless.

For Dick, I really liked in your other one him as a child of Hermes, but I feel like a son of Astrape, goddess of lightning, would work better. Astrape for sheer, you know, flashy power that still puts you on your ass, and arcs through the sky even if it can’t fly on its own necessarily (although that’s just a lot more representative, of course his abilities would be the result of hard work, as usual). And the fact that Astrape and Bronte are in Zeus’ entourage, and his shield/weapons bearers just fits Batman and Robin’s first thing and then Nightwing and Batman’s whole thing after very well, I think.

As for Tim? I honestly think he should just be a clear sighted mortal. He’s never seemed that much like any one child of anything to me.

Stephanie as the daughter of Dionysus is just inspired, and I can’t believe I never thought of it!

And Alfred I feel like would be, even if not the son of anyone, or a legacy, a sort of disciple of Hestia or something.

Babs I just love as a daughter of Athena, but also, she’s kind of taken the role of Oracle for herself, and I was thinking, you know, she should be a clear sighted mortal who became the oracle of Delphi, like Rachel.

And Cass I love as the daughter of Nike, but I feel like a daughter of Hades just fits her so well! Disappears into shadows, often called quite creepy and yet has no patience for what she sees as trivial when she could be attacking something with her fists instead (and has something against contributing to the overpopulation of her father’s realm 😆).

And Duke I liked in the other one too, able to see something vaguely…Other about his foster family, and the gods already seeming much too bright, but just with his meta ability.

Heh, I know I focussed a lot on Jason and the Outlaws, but they are very much my blorbos 😅.

💜

god i do really love Poseidon kid Jason (especially if we give Jason more of the earthshaker powers). he's definitely very similar to Percy in a lot of ways like you mentioned. HOWEVER while you bring up a LOOOT of good points for Poseidon kid Jason i think i want to stray away from having any of the batkids being kids of the big three? i feel like it might to into like,, mary sue territory (even though they're not really OCs but I'm lowkey kinda strict with my PJO aus and want to stick as close to canon as possible - meaning the big three only broke their oaths to not have kids with Percy, Jason and Thalia.) maybe ill do another au or something with Poseidon kid Jason because i really do love it lol

Athena kid Roy is interesting! unfortunately i don't know much abt Roy himself to really refute it or anything

as for Damian i definitely was playing with him being a magician, and maybe a legacy on Talias side? I'm not too sure on that part.

Astrape kid dick is also interesting! i haven't really looked at any of the more minor gods/goddesses for any of them but i can def see it! it's taking some of the traits of Zeus and toning them down a bit without really taking away the power. i still think I'm kinda attached to Hermes kid dick, but if we really want to give him flight we can give him the shoes similar to the ones Luke gave Percy in tlt

honestly mortal Tim does make sense and can also play into his insecurities on not being enough to fit dick or Jason's shoes as robin, since he's not a demigod he's just a regular kid. (however i think i am attached to Aphrodite kid Tim now lol but i do think mortal Tim could be good)

i think i may need a bit more swaying on Dionysus kid Stephanie but i do think its cool - it's definitely something i haven't seen before.

and yes i think Babs should just be a clearsighted mortal no matter how much i like Athena kid Babs. i did really want to play into the oracle name itself and her being the oracle of Delphi is good (however i don't really think her being the oracle itself - like Rachel- would fit in the au? unless they were all at camp i don't really know. i don't think the batfamily themselves need an oracle ? maybe she could be blessed (or cursed) by apollo )

i do like hades kid Cass but like i said with dick i kinda don't want any of them to be kids of the big three. but i think it fits her character - especially with her being a bit creepy as black bat/batgirl. but it might be interesting in terms of her childhood - if David was aware of her parentage he might have had higher hopes for this killing machine he wanted. this child of hades who is a master at reading body language and could kill with the touch of a hand? it could also tie into her adverseness of death itself - because she couldn't handle the feeling of death because of two contributing factors - her understanding of death through her hades powers (like Nico) and her understanding of body language. (hmmm maybe i might make an exception of my refusal of big three kids for hades Cass)

and yes!! i love the ideas of just meta Duke with no godly influence. it might be interesting for him to not be clearsighted - but that could bring in more ideas for how his powers affect his life. do you think he could see the outline or the shadow of a monster? or that his new foster family's eyes tend to glow slightly too bright and there seems to be something golden in their veins? maybe one of them could have some control of the mist like hazel does and would lift the mist later on for duke.

very good takes!! you're definitely making me think about these tho lol

[happyk44]

The first time they meet, Hermes quickly recognizes in Hades a kindred spirit. Like Hades is not a physically fidgety person, but he does require constant stimulation (fun consequence of being stuck in a stomach for his formative years, boredom feels like being trapped and dying 👍). Hermes is always in motion because he needs to be doing things, needs the stimulation. It's why he has the jobs he has - active and demanding.

He sees Hades' workaholic behaviour for what it is. Granted, it annoys him because the man refuses to sleep, you know? Like at least Hermes will rest for a couple of hours. But it's nice.

His family doesn't really get it. They all have specific jobs. Even Apollo with his massive list of hobbies. They're things he's representative of. Not really what he is, what he does. He dabbles more than anything.

But Hermes needs more than dabbling. Needs to be active in all that he is and even in more than what he is. He flits from town to town, collecting the dead, healing the living. It's not his area. Not really. Apollo whines. But what else is he supposed to do? Doctors travel. They heal. They work.

He likes working.

He steals, he heals. He picks people up, puts them down, drops off packages, sells wares, runs, runs, runs. Comes home to the underworld and sees Hades doing the same. He doesn't have to run. His legs are long, his stride large. But he's moving. He's doing.

He gets locked out of his office and he teaches himself to play the lyre, sings lullabies to the kids, cooks breakfast, lunch, dinner. Wanders up and out. Town to town. Listens to stories. Walks the dogs.

Comes home and tackles his office door with his whole weight until it breaks.

Then back at his desk, working, working, working.

Hermes likes leisure, but he sees how his way of relaxing is not relaxing. Not calm, not settled. It's active. It's motion.

Hades is the same. It's easy then, when he figures it out, when it clicks, to get Hades to stop working for a few hours. Ask him to tag along. To help. It takes convincing, always does, but it's easier than asking him to lay down and close his eyes. Easier than asking him to stop.

He doesn't want to stop. Can't stop. People die. They wander, they call out to him. They want to go home, but they can't find it. They call and call, an endless cacophony. They come home and they need to be sorted. Sentences double checked. Revised. Assessed. Tartarus is unwelcoming, even to those born from the depths of Nyx and Erebus deep below, but it bends to him, pliable to his checkups. Elysium must constantly be updated, perfected, prettied. Adjusting with the times, with the needs of its residents.

There is always something to do. Rest is pointless.

Hermes gets that. There will always be things to steals, souls to collect, people to heal, items to sell, places to go, people to meet, jokes to tell, messages to deliver.

So the others complain and Hermes ducks his head into the office, sees papers plastered everywhere. Skin marked in ink, hands moving at speed. His body is stiff, eyes focused, but Hades shifts when Hermes calls him. Asks him to come, to help out. He asks for what and Hermes mutters whatever comes first to mind. Is she dying, can I fix it, how do you fight with fists, teach me to play the lyre, walk the dogs with me.

He holds out his hand and Hade accepts. His skin is ghostly cool. He comes with little pull. It's nice to have him at his side. He's blunt but gentle. Yes, she's dying, no, it cannot be changed, but here's how you can make her comfortable. Shift your stance, tighten your fists. Put your fingers here. Don't let them run too far.

Come with me, Hermes says.

Hades leans back, eyes tired, but content. Why?

I want to go for a walk, he says. I want you to hold my hand, he says. I want to look at the trees and name them.

There's no second to wait through. Just Hades rolling his eyes but standing up and taking Hermes' hand. Fine, he says. And they're moving, they're active, in motion, doing. Walking steady under leaves and dappled sunlight, hands entwined, calloused and well fitting.