#is there a few similarities between my creatures no there is not shut up its called consistent world building. idk. convergent evolution.

[isbergillustration]

This guy is a warped and unwilling servant of the angels I draw (as opposed to the person who is an enthusiastically willing servant but only because they've been brainwashed by them since childhood). Used to be a trans dude now he's trans... something. You can read the first eight or so chapters about him on my writing blog @outgridwrites

[teenandbeyond]

I've noticed your predator/alien franchise doesn't have anything for xenomorph. Let's change that lol. Could I get something that has a similar storyline like the one that says dark reader on it the one where the reader is obsessed with aliens.. It's made me curious tbh

Xenomorph x Dark. Reader

Mx. Anonymous, you read my mind! I was wondering when someone would request this! And you don't need to apologize, since it's fanfiction, we're just gonna say eff reality for a moment (even though the whole thing is fictional...but you get it).

Want more from me, my Infinites (I'm trying out a follower name thing lol. I'll probably shuffle through random ass names until one works)? 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

👽Discoveries👽 (Aliens)

Warning(s): Dark Fic (dunno if it came out as dark as I wanted), Non-con details, unprotected, triggering(?), size difference, I don't know where I went with this (this is what happens when I write parts at different times, I guess)

Sometimes experimentation leads to temptation...

✨✨✨✨✨✨

"You're crazy, [Last Name]!"

You tapped the end of your pen against your lip in thought before smiling, "Maybe, but crazy gets better results than normal. Ask any of the greatest geniuses, they'll tell you."

You were labeled as the crazy scientist because you suggested cross breeding. Between Xenomorph—or Aliens, the term used for common folk—and humans.

'It's impossible!'

'It's wrong! Don't you have any morals?' they cried.

'You want to talk to me about morals? Ha! Who are the ones who take creatures as they please and experiment to their heart's content, past what's necessary, simply for nosiness and fear of not knowing everything?'

You always shut them up any time they felt a need to comment on you.

"Sometimes the most impossible things can be made possible," you muttered as you scribbled something in your many notebooks dedicated to this theory.

You could admit you were pretty obsessed with Xenomorphs, you found them fascinating. You studied them with a passion.

You wanted one...and the opportunity came when a group of scientists arrived with a captured Xenomorph.

They were studying it to come up with a defense against them, you, among a few other scientists decided to spectate.

And all hell broke loose.

Turns out, someone from the group had gotten infected. You had to figure that out when a man's stomach burst open.

There was panic as the other scientists fell victim, until the newest creature was contained.

The two aliens were to be stored away since the team leading the experiment was now dead, until someone else decided to take it over.

That was your opening.

You took the fully grown one to your private lab, where everything was already set up.

The huge cylinder it was in was a little heavy, but you made it work. You pushed a button that would release an anesthetic-type liquid into the fluid the creature was summered in.

Once it was confirmed to be unconscious, you released it and properly restrained it, tail and all. You loved risks, but not when the result could stop your experimenting from proceeding...you can't test things if you're dead.

"Now...let's get your vitals connected to my database..." you tapped away at your screen until the patches and machinery you'd connected to it did their job, "There you are...and you are a very healthy Xenomorph."

You went through a few experiments of merging DNA samples, but something was missing. You couldn't figure out what it was.

You were disturbed from your deep thoughts by a pathetic escape attempt behind you.

"Oh, you're awake. I should introduce myself," you approached the alien carefully, "I'm your caretaker. And you're all mine for the time being."

It continued to struggle, hissing at you as you calmly took off your lab coat and put on gloves.

"Now, for a physical examination..."

Your hand slowly trailed down the alien's head and jaw, raising a brow as its struggle turned hesitant.

You heard a rumbling sound from its throat, the mouth covering muffling it.

"So...you aren't completely adverse to touch, hm?"

Then you explored its shoulders and arms, you trailed lower to its sides.

"Everything seems to be in order so far...You really are a beautiful specimen..." you sighed in fascination.

You were mesmerized and edging towards getting aroused.

And the alien could smell it, it was reacting.

Visibly reacting.

You smirked, "Oh...well, look at that. I've made the discovery of a lifetime."

So much research had been done, but never have sexual organs been found on an alien. But you supposed it wasn't common for someone to show arousal in their presence.

"Standing at attention just for me...What should I do with you?"

You were absolutely breathless.

But who could blame you, you were stretched to your limits. And there were still quite a few inches of it that didn't fit inside.

There was some defiance at the beginning, but this alien would just be the next being to know you always got what you wanted in the end.

And the hotter you got and the louder you got, ashamed defiance turned into lustful acceptance.

You balanced on your hands best you could, your feet also supporting you, but they were beginning to become less reliant the more they curled.

Its skin felt cool and smooth, a stark contrast to your heat and muscle. It made you shiver in the best ways as you slowly slid up and down.

"I think I might—keep you."

You were becoming more obsessed by the minute, perhaps your rationality was being manipulated by the smell of sex and sweat.

Or maybe because the alien tried and failed to keep itself quiet, sensitive to your every move.

A cute little virgin it was.

All yours to use as you've wanted. You could possibly get a sample once you were done, see if it gave different results.

Everything was in your control, until it wasn't.

The alien decided it'd had enough of your slow pace.

It thrusted up in quick strokes, making your body move so quickly it looked like it was shaking.

With a groan, your nails dug into its arms, then you gasp as it breaks out of its restraints.

For a moment, you think it'll attack, and it does.

It flips you under and bullies itself back into you, forcing in every inch.

A brutal attack that leaves you trying to catch your breath.

With a growl behind its mask, it pummels into you.

With fascination, you feel the bulge it creates and swear you can see it, but you're a little disoriented right now.

Your vision flashes from the pleasure and pain, your body is tingling.

"You—You're my discovery to keep," you grin.

[heaven-s-black-box]

The Fuck is a Teyvat?- Natlan characters & Isekaied!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: January 17th, 2025

Description: Hello sorry if this is a bad time but I wanted to make a request similar to an Isekai but genshin impact doesn't exist in the reader's world, and the reader literally falls into natlan, along with a couple of their friends but they got separated, though luckily Ajaw partially broke the reader's fall, but the reader was absolutely terrified of the little pixelated dragon and ran away.

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. I just kept writing, and writing. Every time I thought i was done i was like, nah.

Word count: 1 518

Back to directory

You’d think that if you feel like you’re falling after you die, you’re going to hell. But this place looked too bright to be hell, and wasn’t as hot as Y/n expected.

Y/n blinked in surprise, sitting up and leaning back on their hands. They shifted awkwardly for a moment before reaching beneath them to remove what they thought might be a stone. The ground was rough and sandy anyways, surely it made sense that that was what they had landed on.

It was not.

From beneath themself, Y/n pulls out a thrashing pixelated lizard-thing. It coughs up dirt, spitting out little rocks and spit soaked sand, and then lays into them.

“You impudent peasant!” Y/n shrieked, tossing the lizard as far as they could. “How dare you use the Almighty Dragonlord K’ uhul Ajaw as a cushion for your-”

“Ajaw, shut up,” a man with dark hair sighs, waving Ajaw away. Then he turned to Y/n and extended a hand. “Are you alright?”

Brain taking a moment to catch up, Y/n could only blink dumbly as two others ran over. One, a tall woman who arrived on a… shark? And the other a young girl who hopped off the back of the… shark… surfboard? What was that thing?

Y/n’s head snapped back to the hand in front of them, they hadn’t even noticed their gaze wandering.

“Uh… ya?” They take the man’s hand hesitantly and he pulls them to their feet. “I think so, at least.”

They dust their clothes off and take a moment to look around.

They’re on the edge of wide open plains, surrounded by steep cliffs, in the middle of a dusty road. There’s a dense collection of trees a bit away, with what looks like bridges and houses built in the canopy. Through the nearest cliff face is a path, thin and jagged with wooden platforms and bridges scattered as far as they can see.

In the distance they also notice tall giraffe looking things, and a few unfamiliar birds around.

But that’s not the most interesting thing, no.

“Is that a chocobo?”

The three strangers follow Y/n’s gaze, and the young girl asks, “What’s a chocobo?”

Y/n point at a tiny green creature with huge floppy ears, perched on a log, that tilts its head curiously.

“That’s a yumkasaurus,” the older woman says, seemingly unconcerned with what Y/n now thinks was a stupid question.

After all, the other three seem more confused at the name chocobo then they are about the creature itself. But Y/n quickly receives an answer to why they aren’t more confused.

“You must not be from Natlan, can we help you find somewhere?”

So these yum-things aren’t all over this place. It makes Y/n feel a little better about the question, but they’re left with a new question. Can these people help them?

“Um… I’m looking for my friends?” They looked around the area again.

If they’d just dropped out of the sky, surely their friends should be around somewhere?

They’re not certain what happened, but they know their friends were close enough it was reasonable to assume they were dead too. Dead… Was Y/n dead? Was this place the afterlife? It was certainly nice enough that it could be. Whatever happened, it made sense to Y/n that they should all be around the same place.

The three strangers looked between each other, having a silent conversation that made Y/n shift awkwardly.

“Um… you fell out of the sky,” the little girl said. “I’m not really sure we can help you find your friends, unless you know where they might land?”

It took Y/n a moment, but they realized that the girl– and probably the other two– thought they’d been skydiving or something. Y/n wasn’t exactly sure how to correct them.

“No, I don’t,” Y/n admitted awkwardly, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” the man says, speaking for the first time since helping them up.

He’s eyeing them curiously, and they feel like they’re being interrogated.

“You can come visit my people for now! You took a nasty fall, I’m sure you could use a dip in the hot springs.” The older girl cheered, extending a hand for Y/n to take if they wanted to. It’s as Y/n reaches to take it, that the woman has a realization and pulls her hand back suddenly to facepalm. “Oh my archon, we haven’t introduced ourselves!”

Y/n makes a mental note that archon seems to be the equivalent of god, an important note if they don’t want to seem like a fool. Though, if archon is a local deity, it may be odd that they use the expression but didn’t know about the green chocobo thing. Oh they could feel a headache coming on.

“Oh no!” The little girl exclaims, slamming both her gloved palms against her forehead. The man seems to be the only one uninterested, only sighing at the girls’ outburst. “My name’s Kachina,” the little girl introduces herself, extending a hand that Y/n shakes.

“And I’m Mualani, a guide from the people of the springs!” She inclines her head to the man beside her. “This is Kinich, and the little annoying dragon was Ajaw.”

“You won’t have to worry about him,” Kinich says, “I’ve put him in time out.”

“You… launched him through the air?”

“He’ll be fine.” Kinich shrugs.

Mualani offers Y/n a hand again, and when Y/n takes it the woman begins dragging them along.

“Come on! Let’s get you settled and make sure you didn’t hurt yourself when you fell.”

Y/n let's themself be dragged along, trying to put their situation together.

It occurs to them, as their legs grow tired from walking to Mualani’s tribe, that this world could be huge. Earth was huge, seven continents and sprawling oceans, so who’s to say wherever this was wasn’t equally as big. Maybe their friends were elsewhere in this world.

Mualani takes them to a room for rent and brings them clean clothes; she doesn’t listen to Y/n’s insistence that they’re fine, assuring Y/n that they don’t need to pay her back. Y/n asks for a map as Mualani shoves them through the door, and the woman promises to get one while they change.

Once they’ve changed, Y/n opens the door to find a new face.

“Hm,” the woman hums, face uncomfortably close to Y/n’s.

“Granny Itzli!” Mualani yells, and the woman is pulled away from the door.

Kachina is standing to the side with a map in her arms, and Kinich is nowhere to be found.

“Hey!” Granny Itzli yells. “Don’t drag me around like that!” The woman turns to Y/n and places her hands on her hips with a pout.

“How’d you get here?”

“I, fell from the sky?”

“I know that,” Granny Itzli rolled her eyes and reentered Y/n’s personal space, “I mean how did you get to Teyvat? You aren’t from here, are you?”

“Wait, what?” Kachina exclaims, nearly dropping the map.

“How did you-”

The woman, who Y/n assumes is granny only in title, lets out a long groan. They frown. If Granny Itzli thinks thai is frustration, how does she think they feel?

“Doesn’t matter, but you’re looking for your friends, right? What makes you think they’re here? How did you get here?”

“Look,” Y/n snaps, “I woke up on the ground, and I just have a feeling that my friends are here too. Is that good enough for you?”

Granny Itzli seems taken aback, and looks like she’s about to bite Y/n’s head off in return before Mualani steps in.

“Look, I think we’re all kind of on edge now. How about we get something to eat, and… I dunno, fill Y/n in on where they are?” She turned to Y/n. “I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” Y/n sighed.

“Lunch sounds like a good place,” Kachina interjects, holding out the map to Y/n.

“O-Okay,” Y/n sighs, taking the map and following Mualani who pushes Granny Itzli ahead of the group.

Kachina falls into step with the outworlder, looking up at them in awe.

“By the way, where’s… Kinich? Was that his name?”

“Oh, Granny Itzli sent him to get the Archon.” Kachina ended her thought there, before having a realization. “Oh, you don’t know who the Archon is! Well, she’s our… Mualani, help me out please.”

Mualani laughs. “Natlan is divided into six tribes, and each tribe has a chief, but the Archon is kind of like the chief of all the tribes. She’s our strongest warrior!”

“Then, why did Granny send for here?”

“Look, save your questions for the Archon please? You’re just going to run into more and more, and none of us have all the answers.”

Y/n scowled. “Yes, Granny.”

Granny Itzli looked back at Y/n, a similar scowl on her face. 

Ah, this would be fun.

[writernopal]

⛺Camp? Camp.⛺

We're 10 days into Camp Shrimpmo (we renamed it to something like that lol) so here, have an edited passage of AASOAF 3 as a treat :3

WC: 645 CW: thalassophobia, minor body horror

a/n: recommend listening to Siren by Amanati while reading!

The Mirage tottered violently then, listing one way then the other until the sparkling sea washed a tongue, perhaps even a finger or a leg, over the bulwarks and a sort of sucking sound came from somewhere down below. Blackened and shiny limbs followed—his subjects—and slowly, the Mirage relinquished her will to breathe and sank. 

The sea closed around us, tossing my hair up in one great mass as bubbles tickled the back of my neck and the sunlight flickered through the surface like pale spears. Fishes and sharks and other sea life, peered curiously in our direction, seeming in awe that a surface dweller like me breathed their water as commonly as air. Their attention was short lived, however, as they quickly darted away once we reached colder waters. What lay below were the mostly eyeless stares and out of tune humming of sea witches—beings they wouldn’t dare cross.

But we drifted freely by them, their poor excuses for eyes—beady lumps on the back of the heads—shining like wicked marbles as they warped themselves round in corkscrews to get a better look at their master. Strange half-shrunk and faceless creatures they were, with bony fins and tails, maws in their necks, and skin grey as decaying flesh. A few seemed to be blessed by him, Satoyev, as their limp bodies hosted swollen bellies. He paid them no mind.

We touched down on the sea floor, the expanse before us was so dark it seemed an illusion, as if I might wave my hand before me and find a velvet curtain concealing the world. But here, my outstretched arm was swallowed, such that anything beyond my elbow was invisible. I’d become a collection of stumps, sprouting from the seed of the overeager sun upon my chest and the heart beating beneath it. The light and warmth of my brand’s celestial counterpart was a foreigner at these depths, perhaps even a myth. Its rays could never penetrate this darkness, much less affect the temperature of this place, which I could only, and inadequately, describe as cold.

I returned my hand to the visible realm, resting it over my chest. With it came Satoyev, his fins and scales glowing dull blues and reds. He put a hand beneath my chin and drew me close.

“Come.” 

I didn’t resist, so he clutched me close, his many eyes pulsating in the darkness, and we began to move. How fast or in what direction I couldn’t say, but my stomach lurched and my eyes became so unbearably cold that I shut them. At intervals the current snatched them open, painting glowing smears of bright blues and greens—kraken eyes—curiously watching us. No doubt they rejoiced their lord's return home. 

“Here.” 

We passed underneath a dark mass, and toward something shimmering. It appeared the surface of another ocean but when we cleared it, there was no air, just more water, this time strangely warm and very salty. The area was small and clouded by strange thick grey gasses rising from some place. Clusters of pale worms and shrunken mollusks peeked between their billows. In the center of the space was a sort of cradle crafted of whalebones and decaying flesh. Peering between its remains shone a hazy blue light.

I squinted into it as we drew closer, my eyes struggling with this brightness after desensitizing dark, until its source finally came into view—a large rough cut sapphire. It was similar to the one I used to summon Saviyesaih, but thrice as big, and gave off a much more powerful energy. The water around it formed gentle ripples, as if the stone itself breathed, the frequency increasing as Satoyev and I came near. We came to a stop just before it. Whispered whale song floated from it, caressing not my ear, but my heart instead.

AASOAF 3 Taglist: @outpost51 @thelivingdeceased @faelanvance @captain-kraken @illjustpretend

@elshells @full-on-sam @the-mindless @zestymimblo @tabswrites

@void-botanist

Join/leave the taglist using this Google Form.

[typingatlightspeed]

TF2 Fanfic - Complex Carbohydrates

Following the events of Expiration Date, Engineer decides to invite Medic for a few beers out back of the base, as a final sort of come-down from everything they'd been through over the weekend. Some easy conversation and light flirting seems a pretty good way to celebrate being alive.

A giftie fic for @missjamiekaye, and thank-you for that lovely Sword Van piece! <3 They asked for some Engie and Medic being flirty bros. I hope this passes muster!

---------

It had taken hours, but finally, the last of the giant, mutant bread monster had been disposed of. Most of the work had been done by Pyro, if they were all honest. The firebug had delighted in torching that big mess of grains and tentacles, reducing it to ash which was then unceremoniously dumped in a nearby ravine, hopefully not polluting any groundwater after the fact.

Not like the groundwater here could get any more polluted than it already was, anyway. Not without changing its colour and viscosity, at least. The lead levels were already more than enough to scare even penny-pinching RED into supplying an external water source for its mercenaries, whom had never been known to be the recipients of much in the way of creature comforts from their employers.

Thank goodness the paychecks were huge.

Engineer hung his hardhat and goggles up on the pegs he'd installed next to the door in his quarters. He scrubbed a hand over the stubble of his shaven head and let out a long breath, now that everything was said and done. He was exhausted. It had been the longest three days of his life. Terror, shame, determination, panic, and entirely too little sleep had filled the time between the discovery of just what teleporting does to bread, and the discovery that what teleporting does, it just does to bread. He didn't think it possible to chug along on adrenaline for days on end, but now, as it leaked away, he wasn't just tired, he was weary.

Even so, he wasn't headed to bed just yet. There was something important he needed to do.

*

The door to the infirmary opened slowly but not quietly, the door's hinge squealing almost as a defense measure. Engineer made a mental note to oil the damn things tomorrow.

The room was only half-lit, theories and calculations still scrawled on the chalk board, wall, floor, anything chalk could cling to; evidence of their weekend-long desperate bout of research and development. Engineer hadn't worked that hard that fast since college, though he had to say, the company was much better. Medic was at least as much the mad genius as he was, and it had been nice to have someone on a similar wavelength to bounce ideas against.

"Hallo?" Medic asked, turning, bent over in front of his open refrigerator. Likely chilling what few samples he'd managed to wrangle after Pyro had befriended the small, angry loaf of mutant bread the doctor had managed to keep contained for most of the weekend.

"Hey there, Doc," Engineer greeted with an easy smile.

"Ah, Engie. I'm surprised to find you awake. I had assumed you'd be dead to the world at this point." Medic chuckled lightly, standing and closing the fridge.

"Still too wound up from it all. Exhaustion's finally crashin' in but my mind ain't done turnin' yet. You know how it is."

"Indeed I do." Medic took a deep breath, feeling the same fatigue creeping over him. His nose scrunched up in dismay. "Ach, this whole room smells like yeast."

Engineer chuckled at that. "Weren't gonna say nothin', but you ain't wrong. But speakin' of..." He lifted his hand, showing the gift he'd brought: a six-pack of frosty, cold beers. "How 'bout we go partake of some more yeast out back? Actually enjoy some of this weekend 'fore we gotta be up for work in the mornin'?"

"Those are the only carbohydrates I think I'll be interested in for some time," Medic chuckled. "My friend, once again you prove to be the idea man between the two of us." He gladly followed Engineer out the door, shutting the lights off in the infirmary behind him.

The night sky stretched out for what seemed like forever, dampened only by the light pollution of a few stray lamps along the perimeter fence. Engineer switched off the porch light, saving their eyes a bit of strain in the dark, and settled on the edge of the dry, creaky old structure, the six-pack of beers separating him from Medic.

The cool breeze of the night air caressed them gently, neither chilling nor buffeting them, merely whispering past in a gentle sussurus that seemed to ferry away the stress of the prior three days. Engineer snatched up a beer and popped the cap on the edge of the porch, then handed the bottle to Medic before doing the same for himself. They lifted their beers and clinked the bottles together in a silent toast before taking a pull.

"Thank you for inviting me," Medic said with a wistful smile, watching a stray cloud drift past the moon, its light illuminating it with a silver halo.

"'Course," Engineer demurred. "After what we been through, some cold beers with a good buddy is just what this doctor ordered."

Medic snorted a laugh at that. "I'll admit, this is a far better way to spend time together than in utter, mortal terror, furiously experimenting for three days straight."

"Amen to that. If I'm gonna be experimentin' with you, I'd much rather it be relaxed, 'n after a couple of beers." He smirked against the lip of his bottle, a proper smile pulling at his lips as Medic blushed and tittered in reply.

Medic didn't look at him, a laugh caught in his voice. "So is that why you asked me out here?"

Engineer split into a crooked grin. "That depends on whether it's gettin' me anywhere."

Lifting an eyebrow, Medic took another swig from his bottle, letting the silence stretch on just a bit. "You know, one of these days I'm going to call you on your bluff and take you seriously."

"When that day comes we're both in for a lot of trouble."

"I worry far more for everyone else."

They shared a laugh at that, downing the rest of their beers. Medic glanced sidelong at Engineer. It had been a long, long weekend. Though, truly, even if their initial theory had held true and it had been the end for them, he could scarcely think of a better way to go, throwing science at the wall and trying to crack a nearly insurmountable problem with Engineer at his side. He was the only man he'd ever known whose ever-churning mind could keep up with his own. If he had just a few fewer morals he could even surpass him, which made Medic glad that his friend had at least some scruples left to his name, if only to save his own pride.

Engineer's thoughts must have followed a similar path. He withdrew another beer from the pack and gestured to Medic with it. "Still can't believe we both managed to jump to a conclusion like that. Somethin' affectin' bread like that sure is gonna be one-to-one with humans." He scoffed. "We were so wound up we straight skipped over where that didn't make a lick of sense."

Medic shrugged, nodding with the assessment. "To be fair, it isn't exactly like there are reams of research on the side effects of teleportation on the human body in the first place. Our daily use of them and the records kept about it is probably the closest thing to a study that's ever been done, which is hardly saying anything. Something, anything, showing a reaction like that is cause for concern, since it was such an anomaly. We were working with the data available, which was very incomplete." An impish grin crossed his too-white teeth, "We did manage to untangle the problem. After all, we had the two greatest minds of our generation working on the project."

"Shucks," Engineer demurred, blushing a bit. "I'm just glad this weren't the end. Would'a been a sad way for a bunch of hardened killers to go. All that fight in us just to die from tumors? Shame."

"Agreed. Even living as we do, it would be cutting everything far too short. Too much left undone, too much left unsaid," he took a sharp breath, realizing how personal that sounded, and quickly rejoined, "too much yet to learn and discover!"

Engineer let it slide, not taking the easy opening to needle his friend. "Ain't that right." He used the edge of the porch to finally open the bottle he was holding and offered it to Medic, "Doctor?"

"Doctor," Medic replied, accepting it gladly with a giggle.

Engineer opened his own beer and they clinked the bottles again. "To wheat."

"To complex carbohydrates!"

They chuckled and knocked back their beers, settling into a comfortable silence as they stared out across the desert, the pale, silvery light of the moon lighting up the rusty sand a fetching shade of blue.

"Y'know, Doc, I—"

"Ludwig."

Engineer turned to look at Medic, lifting an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"My name is Ludwig."

"Oh."

Medic finished his beer, taking the pause to sort out his thoughts. "We just stared Death in the face and watched him flinch so hard it was physically indistinguishable from a seizure. We spent three days with barely any food or sleep, experimenting and theorizing and calculating, around the clock. We've just been through a special Hell together; we deserve know one another's names, OPSEC be damned, don't you think?"

"Awful poetic of you," Engineer replied, his voice soft. He was a bit touched, truth be told. "Alright, Lou. You can call me Dell."

Medic smiled at that, more than a little amused by the American's immediate need to create a nickname for a name that was only two syllables long. "Dell. Sehr gut."

"Nice to meetcha," Engineer teased. He finished his beer and set about cracking the last two, handing Medic his and lifting his own for a final, silent toast.

Medic grinned, and their bottles clinked, and the chirping of crickets filled the easy quiet that settled there as the exhausted, trimphant mercenaries spent the last hours of their weekend enjoying one another's company.

[videogamelover99]

[Gravity Falls] Waking Days Ch. 9: Confrontation

Summary: Bill Cipher is reborn, but not in the way he would have wanted. Stuck as a mortal and relying on those who brought his downfall, he realizes that maybe he didn't lie as hard as he should have. [AO3 Link] Characters: Bill Cipher, Mabel Pines, Dipper Pines, Stanford Pines, Stanley Pines, Jheselbraum the Unswerving, The Axolotl Pairings: past BillFord Rating: T

The flash had been blinding, and once it cleared, everyone in its vicinity had vanished.

Coming out of the pet shop with a newly adopted axolotl sitting snugly in a tank under his arm, Dipper took approximately 30 seconds to start panicking. He saw Stan, looking just as bewildered as Dipper, and ran toward him. “Oh man, what was that?! What do we do?”

“Uh.” Stan leaned over to pick up something from the floor. It looked like a small, heart-shaped golden locket. Stan turned the locket over, knocked on it a few times, and tried to bend it with his teeth. “Yup. This sure is real gold, alright.”

“How is that gonna help us? Everyone just got sucked into a wormhole or, or-”

“Look, not that I’m not an expert on family members getting sucked into weird portals…” Stan made a face. “That was funnier in my head. But whatever's left of ‘em is this thing, which makes me think it’s not just a great thing to pawn off back at the shop.”

Dipper gently put down the axolotl tank and took the locket, turning it over in his hands. It was smooth, apparently real solid gold, and about the size of a cherry. Dipper tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge, the seam shut tight. Dipper shook it. Nothing rattled. He was about to try to take Stan’s advice and bite it when his thumb brushed over a rough patch on its otherwise smooth surface. He squinted at incredibly tiny writing on the side near the hinge. “Wait, look at this. ‘Property of the Love God. XOXO. DO NOT STEAL’.”

“Love God, isn’t that some weirdo that showed up to that music festival the kids love so much?”

“Yeah,” said Dipper. “He was also an actual god. I think if we find him, we might find what happened to Grunkle Ford and Mabel and…everyone.”

“Sure, finding a god. How hard could that be?" Stan finally noticed the tank near Dipper’s feet. “What’s with the weird pet? We got enough problems in the house."

“He’s, uh…” Trying to explain Bill's riddle to Stan would be worse than pulling teeth. At least a dentist wouldn't feel like an idiot for doing his job. "A clue?”

“Right,” said Stan, not daring to pry into it any longer. “You take the lead on this one, kid. Why does it feel like I’m forgetting something?”

“Hey guys!” They turned to see Soos running up to them, juggling four hot dogs in between his fingers. “You would not believe what’s up with that hot dog vendor. He told like, the craziest story…Hey, where’d everybody go?”

—

The first thing Ford felt upon waking up was a headache. The second thing was that the ground under him was soft, too soft for them to still be at the mall. He sat up, rubbing his head, and realized he’d lost his glasses. Luckily, he had several pairs hidden on his person for this very occasion.

He popped on a new pair of glasses and looked around.

The ground under him turned out to be a plush, velvet couch of a subtle shade of pink. He was in some sort of wide, cavern-like room, with off-white walls, candles floating under the spacious ceiling, and lacy pink curtains hanging over the windows. White tiles lined the floor, so spotless he could see his reflection. In the center of the room emerged a white marble fountain, spewing out curtains of water around the figure of a baby-like creature with a bow and arrow. The arrows were tipped with little hearts.

A cherub.

Ford was starting to put together where he’d ended up. And it didn’t look great.

He spotted Nora and Melody on a similar couch a few feet away, just beginning to stir from the slumber they’d been put under. On the other side lay the man who’d called himself a wizard, curled up around his suitcase.

Beside him, that infernal voice spoke: “Ow…”

Bill sat up next to him. He rubbed his eyes and squinted against the brightness of the chamber. “What-” His eyes found Ford’s and he opened his mouth, no doubt to make another horrible comment when he noticed the fountain in the middle of the room. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Ford ignored him, searching for his niece. She seemed to be waking up as well, her head propped on the foot of the couch. Ford knelt next to her and looked her over. “Woah,” she said, looking around the room in wonder.

Ford couldn’t blame her dazed expression. He could feel the air brimming with magic, not unlike the feeling just after taking a shot of cosmic sand. “You’re not hurt?”

Mabel shook her head. “Where are we?”

“What a lovely question!” A voice said from above. Ford looked up.

It was a woman, or at least, Ford was pretty sure it was a woman, but in his thirty years of traveling the multiverse, he had learned that it was always better to ask. She was small, almost as short as Mabel, wearing a beautiful baby-pink suit and heels. Her large blue eyes peeked through a pair of stylish cat-eye glasses. She held a clipboard in her hands as she hovered above their heads, a pair of white, fluffy wings beating in unison, too small to keep her above ground by any reasonable measure of physics.

“You, my dear, are in the Love Goddess’s Center of Relationship Rehabilitation! We pride ourselves in helping couples, friends, family, and mortal enemies to find honest communication and mutual understanding! My name is Hermaphroditus (all pronouns are welcome!), and I will be your host!” She said it like she was reading a well-rehearsed script. “Now, before we start, there are some guidelines I’d like to establish. First!”

“Um, excuse me-,” Melody spoke up.

“-No physical, quantum or magical weaponry of any kind! If you have any weapons currently on you, please deposit them in the lobby, into the designated receptacle.” A white plastic bin with a caution sign on the front materialized beneath her. “Usually, this isn’t much of an issue…” She pulled out a small, transparent device, about the size and shape of a portable phone, and scanned them one by one before her eyes landed on Ford. “...Sir, why do you have an arsenal of interdimensional weaponry on your person?”

Ford had the sense to feel a little embarrassed to have gone bowling with a 100-kilowatt laser pistol under his coat if it wasn’t a force of habit. “I have only what’s necessary.”

He expected a smart-ass comment from Bill. Instead, Bill sat down and started untying his shoe.

“Actually, we’re-” Melody began, only to be cut off again.

“No matter!” The cherub snapped her fingers and the gun at Ford’s side vanished instantly. And so did the knife in his boot. And the magnet gun. And the spare quantum grenade. All the weapons materialized inside the plastic bin, only for the bin to also vanish in a blast of pink smoke. Ford fought the urge to grasp at his empty holster. “Please follow the instructions before you enter the facility! Now, rule number two: always keep your hands and feet inside the external barrier, especially during the trials! Seriously, we’ve had too many accidents and none of them looked pretty. Third, you must always- Agk!” Hermaphroditus dropped the clipboard as a size 10 shoe hit her square on the forehead, skewing her glasses.

Bill cackled.

The cherub straightened her glasses and glared daggers at Bill. “Sir, refrain-”

Bill cut her off. “Alright, Bird-brain, listen up! I don’t care about whatever lousy speech your mommy prepared for you because I’m not supposed to be here! Someone-” He shot a look at Nora. “Got me roped in all of this, and I want out.”

Hermaphroditus looked confused. “Not supposed to be here?”

Ford cleared his throat. “Actually, none of us are. You see, that man over there-” He pointed at Excelsior, who was just beginning to stir- “Transported us here against our will. This is all a misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?”

“Yes?”

The woman blinked at him once, twice, then darted to the ground, picked up her clipboard and started shuffling through the pages. “Aha. ‘If a guest goes back on their contract halfway through the session-’”

Bill started pulling off his other shoe.

“But we didn’t agree to anything!” Mabel said. “It was all that guy! He was being a total creep to Melody!”

Melody smiled politely and didn’t say a word. She looked like she wanted to fall through the floor and disappear.

The cherub looked up from her clipboard. Now she seemed strangely nervous, which made Ford feel uneasy.

“I see…” she said. “One moment please.”

Then she POOFED out of existence in a cloud of pink smoke.

“It looks like we’ll be stuck here for quite a while,” said Ford.

Bill groaned and went to hunt for his missing shoe. Ford hoped it fell into the fountain.

“Oh, I know!” said Mabel. “Let’s all take turns telling each other weird stories, that works great to pass the time!”

“Great idea, I’ll start!” Bill seemed to have found his, unfortunately dry, shoe, and shoved it back onto his foot, fumbling with the laces. “There was a time Sixer-”

Before Ford could march over there and pummel him for daring to say anything possibly compromising to his niece, someone else beat him to it. Bill squawked and jumped back as a fist almost collided with his face.

Excelsior the Wizard stood in front of Bill, hands balled into fists. “You ruined everything!”

—

Deep in the Love Goddess’s Center of Relationship Rehabilitation, in a dimension very different from our own, was the center office. Hermaphroditus scrambled behind the door, panicking, and hurried across a long, silver bridge to the circular podium in the center.

As they crossed the bridge, dozens of fountains sprung up behind them on either side, following their path. They always thought it was a little extra, but the first rookie mistake one makes on the job was criticizing one’s boss.

Especially if said boss also happens to be their mother.

In the center of the platform, framed by a shimmering waterfall that cascaded from the ceiling, in a golden throne sat the most beautiful woman in ten thousand dimensions.

Numerous floating displays surrounded the Love Goddess, casing a faint magical glow over her features. She hummed something under her breath as she adjusted a dial on one of the displays.

Hermaphroditus cleared their throat.

The Goddess blinked up from her screen. “What is it, dear?”

“We might have a problem.”

—

“Woah, woah, woah!” Bill backed away quickly, raising his hands in front of his face.

Mabel watched as Excelsior the Wizard swung another punch, only to barely miss as Bill ducked out of the way. The man lunged at Bill, only to trip over his own coattails. He quickly recovered, tossing his coat over his shoulder. “This was supposed to be my chance! You weren’t supposed to be here! None of you were!”

Bill backed up until his legs hit the fountain. “That ain’t exactly my problem, pal!”

The Wizard guy lunged at Bill. The demon ducked out of the way, and the man’s momentum carried him face-first into the fountain, sending several gallons of water over the edge.

Mabel couldn’t help but giggle. Excelsior sat up and coughed up water. The spray from the top of the marble statue trickled down the top of his head.

Melody stepped forward. “Lukas…”

“You think this is funny?!” Excelsior raged, glaring at Mabel.

Ford took a step forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. “That’s enough. I don’t know what you were planning to-”

But Excelsior jumped out of the fountain and ran for his suitcase. He flung it open, and pulled out his magic wand.

He aimed the wand at Mabel and Ford tried to push her out of the way.

The wand…fizzled out in a handful of sparkles. Excelsior stared at it, uncomprehending.

“That does not work here,” said Nora, walking over calmly to stand next to them. “Neither does any other magic item. It’s a constructed dimension, the only magic that’s permitted is its own. But again, what do I know? I’m just a mediocre, wanna-be magician.”

Realizing he had nothing he could use against them, the man looked between the five of them in humiliated horror. Melody avoided his gaze, staring at the ground.

“I’ll be taking this,” said Ford, and ripped the wand and suitcase out of his hands.

They assembled a little bit away from the wizard in a makeshift huddle.

“We need to get out of here,” said Melody.

“Why are we discussing this with him?” Ford snapped.

“I’m stuck here just like the rest of you!” Bill snapped. “I get it, your favorite pastime is inventing scenarios where you thwart my ‘evil plans’ or whatever, but obsessed much?”

“You are literally evil!”

“Eh, morality is relative.”

“You-!” Ford took a breath, balling his hands into fists. He pointed an accusatory finger at Bill. “I don’t know what you were doing with my grand-niece, but whatever you’re planning-”

“She asked me to help her!”

“Don’t think I can’t see right through-”

“Oh, here we go. Stoke your own ego enough, Fordsy? Cause you and I both know which one of us is best at that.”

“Ahem.” The boys both froze when Nora cleared her throat. “As entertaining as this is, we still have a problem. Well, two problems.” She cast a pointed look in Excelsior’s direction.

Mabel chose that moment to speak up, hoping to soothe some of the tension. “And Bill wasn’t up to anything, Grunkle Ford. I asked him to come with us. For a mystery.”

Ford looked at a loss. “...I suppose…I suppose we should figure out where we are, and how to get back,” he said hesitantly.

“Well, we know where we are,” said Nora. “The cherub we just spoke to laid it out quite nicely. The ‘Love Goddess’s Center of Relationship Rehabilitation.’”

“So, couples therapy,” said Mabel. That jerk of a wizard wanted to send himself, along with Melody, to magical couples therapy. On the one hand, super thoughtful if they were dating! Which they weren’t, because Melody had been happily paired with Soos for the past year, and as far as Mabel was concerned, it better stay that way. Her ultimate relationship chart would be completely unbalanced otherwise.

“That’s a simplistic way of looking at it,” said Nora. She frowned at the high ceilings. “I heard the Love Goddess as a more…approachable type. I suppose a few thousand years can change a person.”

“Who is this ‘Love Goddess’?” asked Melody.

“Oh! You might know her better by one of her human aliases. Aphrodite, Yue Lao, Hathor…this is her domain,” Nora gestured at the room around them. “A dimension composed entirely by magic. What we’re seeing is just an illusion, there is most likely nothing but a vacuum behind these walls.”

Bill rolled his eyes, but Mabel was sure it was a miracle that he stayed quiet through Nora’s speech.

“Can’t we just wait for that cherub to come back and explain what happened?” asked Melody.

“Ha! That’s funny,” said Bill. “You haven’t met her, toots. LG’s not, uh, a type to just let us go without getting something out of it. Fun at parties, though!”

“Okay…” Melody frowned. “How do we get out, then?”

“The thing about artificial dimensions is that they are inherently unstable,” said Nora. “Think of it like that movie, uh…The Matrix? Look out for any flaws in the illusion. We might be able to get through to a different space-time within this universe.”

“Or,” said Mabel. “We could do those relationship trials!”

“No!” all of the adults yelled simultaneously. Mabel huffed.

—

Interesting.

The Love Goddess tapped her perfectly manicured nails against the console, a small smile forming on her lips. She watched the six occupants of the room argue with each other.

“Should we send them back?” Hermaphroditus asked, clutching their clipboard.

“No,” said the Goddess. A brilliant idea overcame her. She pulled up another display and generated six nodes, idly playing with different pairings and configurations. Should it be worst to best? Chronological? Random?

No. This combination would get the best results possible. Love Goddess sent the node configuration over, and her child looked at it with weary agreement. “This is going to be very interesting.”

—

They broke apart to look for something that could get them out. Mabel sidled up next to Melody and put a comforting hand on her arm. “Hey, how’s it going?”

Melody offered a barely-there smile. “It’s going.”

Mabel shot a look at the Wizard. He was watching them from across the room, curled up in a defeated little hunch. “That guy-”

“Let’s not talk about him,” Melody said quickly. She knocked on the wall a few times. “I dunno, is this weird enough to be one of those flaws your alien friend mentioned?”

Mabel frowned, but let Melody change the subject. She pressed her ear to the wall, concentrating hard to hear…anything. It just seemed like a regular wall to her.

She wondered if this place was anything like Mabel Land. And shuddered. That wasn’t…her at her best by a long shot. And besides, there wasn’t anything she wanted to forget more.

Mabel Land was perfect, except when she finally decided to stop being a willing prisoner. Then it showed its true colors.

Was Dipper right? Was she just falling for a new illusion? She thought she’d been careful, it’s not like she really trusted him.

Did she?

Mabel didn’t realize she was staring at Bill. He had his back to her, deep in another heated argument with Ford.

“Are you okay?” Melody asked. She followed Mabel’s gaze. “Oh man, yeah…How’s it going with, uh, the king of demons or whatever? I heard last year was a real nightmare. Literally. Soos had literal nightmares about it.”

So had she.

“What? I’m fine,” said Mabel, smiling and rolling her eyes. “Bill’s not the king of demons, he’s more like…the frat boy party guy. Of demons. And he’s none of those things now, so…” She pointed a thumb at her chest. “I’m rehabilitating him!”

“Uh.” Melody did not seem reassured by that statement. “So he really isn’t dangerous?”

“Nope! Not at all!”

“That’s good, then. I was worried about you and Dipper, you know? You’re both just kids.”

“Sister, you don’t know the half of it!”

Bill wasn’t dangerous. He wasn’t! She’s seen him trip over a fold in the carpet, get scared of his own cough, and get defeated by tickles. Twice. Mabel had it covered.

And he wasn't tricking her, even if he thought he was. It wasn't like…before. She knew better now, knew how to see through whatever lies he told her.

She wouldn't make the same mistake again.

That’s when she noticed something odd with the cherub statue.

She pointed at the head, where she could see, just for a second, the eyes darting back and forth, trained on them for a split second before staring at the ground. “Look at that! That’s so creepy.”

“Yeah.” The two of them approached the fountain, looking up at the cherub’s face. Again, those eyes. “That shouldn’t be happening, right?”

“Nora said this place is like, super magical, but-!” Mabel hopped on top of the statue and grabbed the cherub’s cheeks, staring intensely at its face. “Speak to me, magic man!”

Then one of her feet slipped, and Mabel held onto the head for dear life before she could fall, dangling in the air. There was a creak, and then a SNAP, as the neck broke.

“...He’s resting,” said Mabel.

“Did you find something?” Grunkle Ford called as he approached the statue.

Inside a compartment in the neck sat a big red button.

Mabel loved big red buttons. She pushed it.

In a shower of pink, glittery sparkles, the statue and the fountain disintegrated. Mabel fell five feet down, and Ford caught her before she could hit the ground. He lifted her up and cheered. “Mabel, you found it!”

“Huh,” Nora came up next to them, examining the new, fountain-sized hole in the ground. “I suppose they had their own emergency exit.”

Inside the hole was darkness, not unlike the neverending darkness of the bottomless pit. It didn’t look very welcoming.

“That doesn’t look very friendly,” said Melody, as if voicing Mabel’s thoughts.

“It should be fine,” said Nora. “The in-between space-”

“Yeah, yeah, we know,” Bill said impatiently. “What do we do about Mr. Excel Sheet?” He pointed a thumb at Melody’s creepy Ex.

“It’s Excelsior!” the wizard snapped.

“Wow! No one cares!”

Suddenly, Hermaphroditus appeared above them with a POOF. “We’ve extensively reviewed your file, and-” She froze, looking past them at the hole in the ground.

“No time,” said Ford, taking Mabel by the hand. “Let’s go!”

—

Hermaphroditus watched as the five people he’d been tasked with reforming disappeared into one of the facility’s emergency exits. He looked past it in shock, at the young man in the trench coat still sitting in the corner.

“Don’t look at me, I don't know them!”

He really wished Mother would just fire him. It would be so much easier.

—

“So where exactly do we find this guy?”

“Uh,” Dipper buckled his seat belt and crossed his fingers that Stan had his cataracts fixed as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Last time, he was one of the musicians on the setlist. But the festival is still a month away…Well, it's not like he can be across the country, right? That locket had to come from somewhere.” Dipper pulled the locket out to examine it again.

“We could start knocking down doors and harassing people,” Stan suggested.

“I could put up some posters-”

Dipper realized this would take a while. And who knew what Mabel and Ford were up against?

He really…hated how he left things with Mabel. It didn't take long for Dipper to realize that Bill really had nothing to do with that rift. If he had, he would have done everything to prevent them from seeing it. Unless this was a sort of double ruse?

It didn't matter. Once this was all over, Dipper would show Ford and Stan the rift. They’d know what to do. Right now, they needed to find Mabel.

“Got it!” Soos piped up from the backseat. That's when Dipper realized he had his laptop open the whole time, and had been furiously typing while Dipper and Stan debated on whether Toby Determined could be bribed with food.

Soos flipped over the laptop to show them the screen. “Check it out, dudes!”

He had pulled up an article with the title: “Musician Found in Portland, Millions of Fans Left Heartbroken”. Underneath was a blurry picture of a blond, plus-sized man in a pink shirt attacking the camera with a slipper. Behind him, in front of a beautiful two-story house stood an older woman in a bathrobe, smoking a cigar and unphased by the commotion. You could barely make out the address printed on top of the front door.

“That’s him!” Dipper said. “He’s in Portland?”

Stan suddenly made a U-turn in a lane that was definitely illegal to make U-turns in. The approaching car honked loudly as he cut it off.

“How’d you find that so fast?” asked Dipper once his insides didn’t feel rearranged anymore.

“I have my ways,” Soos said sagely. Then he took off his hat and twisted it nervously. “Besides, we gotta find them fast, right? I hope Melody’s alright, dudes.”

Right. Soos was worried about his girlfriend. Mabel was as familiar with all this weirdness as Dipper. Ford thrived in it. Nora seemed perfectly capable and Bill…Bill was the weirdness.

Melody wasn’t like them. She hadn’t been through Weirdmaggedon or half of the adventures they’d been on last summer. No wonder Soos was worried. Dipper hoped she was alright.

—

Melody opened her eyes, trying to rub the black spots in her vision away, and looked around.

She was sitting in a dimly lit corridor. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting stark shadows against plain, pink wallpaper and white, carpeted floor. Aside from the consistent color scheme, it almost looked like a completely different building. More backroom office vibe than a remodeled Greek temple.

“This is just like being back in the dating pool,” Melody muttered.

She was also alone. They must’ve been split up when they jumped through that dark…hole…portal thing.

Cautiously, she made her way down the corridor. There were no doors, no windows, and no signs. The only thing different was that the corridor turned left fifty feet down. She peaked behind the corner.

Rows upon rows of office desks filled a large, warehouse-like space. The same pink-and-white color scheme prevailed, out of place with the cubicles and office lights.

She crept slowly forward, darting behind a plastic potted plant. Two cherubs in the same uniform as Hermaphroditus were talking in front of the water cooler, their backs turned to her.

“I’m telling you, it’s inflation!”

“You just haven’t been saving up. When I was your age-”

“When you were my age, galactic smoothies cost twice as little.”

“Buy less galactic smoothies!”

“I like living, thanks!”

Melody searched for an exit sign or a window or something. The only other place to go was behind the nearest cubicle.

She took a risk, darting by as soon as the cherubs’ conversation got heated. Thankfully, the cubicle was empty. She crouched under the desk and tried to think of a plan.

“Ooh, I think these two would work really well together!”

Mabel.

It came from somewhere deeper within the cubicle maze, a harsh, loud whisper among the clicking of keyboards.

“You think so?” Another voice replied.

“Yeah! Opposites attract! Plus, they admire the qualities they both share. That’s very important.”

“Wow, kid, you’re good at this.”

“You know it, dog.”

Melody slowly crawled toward the voices.

“Now these two…these are tough.”

“Yeah. I don’t even know where to start. If I can’t meet the quota-”

“Hm. I can see a rivalry thing going on. Maybe some juicy shared history? Ooh, pull up their childhood files!”

“Where did you learn this stuff?”

“Romcoms and teen magazines, mostly.”

A few cubicles down, Melody spotted them. Mabel was sitting on the desk, chatting with a young-looking cherub that was perched in one of the uncomfortable-looking office chairs. They were both staring intensely at the screen and arguing over very complex-looking diagrams. The cherub had an “INTERN” label pinned to the front of their shirt.

“Mabel?”

Mabel looked up from the screen. “Melody! You’re here!” She jumped down, dragged Melody by the arm, and yanked her inside the cubicle. “This is Jeff! Say hi, Jeff! This is my friend’s/adopted second uncle’s girlfriend! Which makes her my adopted second almost-aunt-in-law!”

“Hi,” said Jeff shyly. “Nice to meet you, Mabel’s adopted second…aunt…?”

“Melody.” She looked at Mabel. “Do you know what happened? Where are the others?”

“Nope!” said Mabel. She didn’t look worried. If anything, she looked downright giddy. “We all got split up, I guess. Must be one of those things that happens with magical portals.”

“Right.” Melody decided she wasn’t gonna think about it for too long. “We should find them, then.”

“We will! Jeff said he could get us info on where they might be. I promised to help him with his assignments, first.”

“I’m supposed to arrange the romantic pairings in Cincinnati for the week,” said Jeff.

“And I’m kind of an expert,” Mabel bragged. “Anyway, I think those two should run into each other. You know, like at the laundromat. Somewhere they haven’t seen each other before. Showing a side of each other they haven’t seen before.”

Jeff typed something into the computer eagerly. “And then?”

Melody sat down. This was going to take a while.

—

“Lovely,” said Nora. “I suppose I’m stuck here with you.”

“Believe me, the feeling’s mutual.”

They looked down the thirty-foot gap between their room and the next. On the other side was a large door, above which sat a stone cherub, bow at the ready, its face smugly staring down the center of the room.

“Didn’t think she’d go for the dungeon aesthetic,” Bill admitted. Because that’s exactly what this place looked like, rendered, of course, in a bold choice of white and bright pink. Aside from the spikes at the bottom of the gap, some of the tiles on the floor were clearly rigged as pressure plates. Who knew what fun things each one did? One way to find out!

Nora yanked him back before he could press on the one closest to them. “Are you suicidal, or did your body get twice as less brain cells as the old one?”

“I was incorporeal! I had no-! Wait-”

“Ah. That explains so much.”

He’d walked right into that one. Bill couldn’t even be properly angry about it. “What’s it gonna do, huh? Summon a cherub to start telling us the virtues of friendship? Throw magic love potion glitter in our faces?” Okay, maybe that last one was kind of scary to think about. “LG’s style is less dismemberment and more never-minding-her-own-business.”

“Oh, you two got along well, then. On both accounts.”

She tried to make it sound like an insult. Hilarious. It was like she forgot who she was talking to. “You got any better ideas?”

“Actually, I do.” Nora walked over to the wall behind them and started…feeling around.

“Wow. Why don’t you ask that wall out for dinner first?”

“Oh, grow up,” she said. Despite the words, her tone was insufferably calm. “This must be one of the trials. This means there should also be a safety hatch, in case one of the workers gets trapped here by accident. I just need to find it.”

“Uh-huh.” Bill sat down and propped his back against the neighboring wall. “Have fun with that.” He closed his eyes.

There was a funny thing that happened whenever Seven Eyes showed up. There was the anger, obviously, the indescribable, indomitable rage that bubbled to the surface. Had Bill gained all his powers back, he would have incinerated her on the spot, the lousy, ungrateful traitor that she was.

No, the funny thing wasn’t the rage, it was the other thing. A feeling that reared its head in the back of his mind and stifled the anger until it was almost painful.

It was like the stab of hot coals he felt when he was in Mabel’s dream, but quieter. It was like when-

Don’t. Shut up.

Bill didn’t realize he was clenching his fist until he felt the sting on his palms from where his nails tore through the flesh.

He didn’t remember what he was thinking about, but he didn’t have to. The noises from the other side of the room turned into very frustrated ones.

He opened his eyes and saw Seven Eyes sitting down on the ground, glaring at the other side of the pit.

"Aren't you the one with all the fun gadgets? Didn't think you'd give up so easily."

She completely ignored him. Seriously?

“Hey.”

“...”

“Hey, Seven Eyes.”

“...”

“What, don’t have any comebacks?”

“...”

“Come on, you can’t seriously keep this up forever.”

“...”

“Hey.”

“...”

“Right, you think you’re so above me to have a conversation.”

“...”

“Why would I want to talk to you?”

“...”

“Hey.”

“...”

“Nora.”

“Oh dear Axolotl, would you please shut up? Or are you truly not capable of that?”

Bill grinned. “Gotcha.”

Nora’s pissed-off look turned confused for a moment. “What?”

“Oh come on, you think I can’t see through that cute little role you’re playing.” Bill put his hands together in mock prayer. “‘Oh great Oracle, please tell me if my crops are gonna save my ass at the market next season’, please.”

“Projecting much?” Nora’s tone was sharp like she was holding something back.

“Hey, at least I did it with a lot more style! And personality!”

“Debatable.”

“You think you’re better than me because you stabbed me in the back?” Bill snapped. “You think I don’t know exactly what you did to get there? How many Sixers did you convince to play the hero? How many made it back? At least I offered Stanford power. Immortality. On a silver platter!”

“You killed them.”

“Oh yeah.” Bill scratched his nose. “You shoulda known better, huh? Oh wait, you did!” He tapped a finger on the side of his eye. Nora’s own gaze was like daggers, which would have screamed danger had he not known she was as powerless as he was, for the time being. He caught something else in her eyes, a glimpse of something brittle. The feeling he didn’t want to think about was flooded by the anger, the betrayal, and suddenly Bill wanted nothing more than to break it. “And now you’re playing besties with Sixer, been there done that! He’s falling for it cause you give him one word of encouragement and he folds. But I know you.”

He held that brittle thing in his hand, he could feel it. One thumb pressed too hard, and it would shatter.

Why would you do this?

You were friends.

“You might've pulled a few tricks from your dead sister, but you can't fool me."

Nora said nothing. She stared at him for a long time. And that brittle thing-

Retreated as she bent over laughing.

“WHAT?!” Bill threw his hands up in frustration. “What’s so funny?!”

She just kept laughing like she’d heard the funniest joke in a trillion years. Bill suddenly remembered how much he hated being the butt of one, especially to her.

Before he could try pushing her into the pit and maybe testing if those spikes were real, she wiped her eyes and grinned at him.

“You know,” she said. “I wish you were at least half the person I believed you to be."

Bill stared at her.

The cherub above the door, across from the pit, let out a loud, cheerful DING like a contestant on a game show got the right answer.

The floor tiles on the other side of the pit shifted, rearranging themselves until they created a thin bridge halfway down the pit, too far to jump, but close enough to be a temptation.

“Oh,” said Nora. “I get it now.”

And then the room shattered into a million particles as reality itself changed for the whims of the one who willed it.

“Bravo,” said the Love Goddess. “Now we can really begin.”

---

[next]

[prev]

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[tonikogemmie]

April 17th, 2024: Wednesday's Melancholic Gem

In death, we gain a new understanding in someone's story. How someone dies, the last words they leave for others are all telling things about the person. However, the death of an animal (at this time) is only a story we can uncover for them...through veterinary forensics! A chance meeting Kenshou Touma has with his classmate Barato Sousuke and a strange case with crows sets him on a journey to uncover the mysteries behind animal deaths.

Last Karte by Asayama Wakabi

Last Karte - Houjuuigakusha Touma Kenshou no Kioku //ラストカルテ-法獣医学者 当麻健匠の記憶-

TYPE: Manga

TAGS: Mystery, Slice-of-Life, Drama, Medical

DEMOGRAPHIC: Shounen

STATUS: Completed* (95 chapters)

Perhaps this is why this story would be to your liking:

This manga follows a case by case structure, with each mystery spanning a couple of chapters. The mystery is not so much a gripping detective story or anything, but leaves you aching to know how the animal's death came to be (in a very educational manner of course). There is no overarching plot per say, but time is always passing. Also call it personal bias, but I think this kind of story telling structure is a good way of focusing on those interesting parts of the characters' lives but also letting them grow older in their ever moving lives.

In understanding death, we can understand life. Animals die in this manga. It's a fact of being alive, but this manga balances both an emotional and scientific approach to death. Sometimes, the animals that pass are wild animals, sometimes they're zoo animals and sometimes they're pets but regardless it is somber to think about how one lived as it did and eventually reached the end of that life. There are many cases so there are bound to be a few that tickle your eyes into tears.

Animal facts galore! This mangaka knows animals alright. Ever detailed art of animals, the diverse amount of animals and the most unique element is those facts used in tandem with forensics. Exploring the relationship between animals and humans, this manga opens many unique perspectives on how we live day to day with these creatures. After all, why do we study animals? I think its because we can learn more about ourselves through learning about animals. Yes, this manga embodies that idea as well.

Well! I’m off to read some more!

ENGLISH FAN TRANSLATION:

*Chapter 94 just released today, with an author announcement that next week is the final chapter! (I was there, at 5 in the morning, don't talk to me about it). Call this my personal last karte for this manga (should I have done this post the week after ?!). In celebration, I will recommend something quite similar to fill the void next week! Honestly, I can't believe its ending already... we can honestly continue for 20 more cases right?

The fan-translation is still set to continue for some time, so its not time for me to mourn yet. Maybe this is the equivalent of reading an autopsy report after the manga's death? I'll shut up now.

[emeraldhazeart]

Find the Word Tag

Thank you for the tag @hannahcbrown This looks like fun!

The words I was tagged to find were moon, home, hearth, and tears.

Moon: I’m surprised this one hasn’t featured more in my writing. I’ll have to fix that! For now, have this excerpt from Chapter 4 of Wildflower:

  Growing up in a city with permanent light pollution, Claire had been amazed that first night out on her own at just how dark it got in the country. Petrified of stumbling around half blind and falling off a cliff, she’d wrapped herself in the only blanket she’d had, used her lumpy rucksack as a pillow, and vainly tried to catch some sleep on the cold, damp ground.

  Tonight, however, there was no cloud covering the full moon, so the mountainside was bathed in a surprisingly bright silvery glow. Claire found that it wasn’t too difficult to follow the packed earth trail in this light, but she still kept to the middle of path, just to be safe. Falling down the mountain at night would spell almost certain death.

Home: I felt like this excerpt from Grandfather was fitting for this tag:

  No longer needing to shelter them from the wind, Joanna drew back the fabric with her free hand to reveal a little girl clutched to her chest. The child’s eyes were closed in an exhausted slumber, but even so Barley could see the strong similarities between her and his daughter. He opened his mouth, questions bubbling up in his throat.

  “…Not now, Dad,” Joanna murmured in a voice heavy and defeated, and Barley automatically shut his mouth again. His mind was still spinning, desperately trying to catch up, but he recognised that now was not the time to be asking anything. Suddenly, he felt 20 years older than his body actually was.

  “…I still have your old bed…” he finally muttered, already heading for the stairs, “…I’ll just get you some fresh sheets…”

  His daughter didn’t reply, didn’t thank him or apologise for the sudden intrusion. She just silently followed, a few paces behind, as her old dad led the way upstairs in a house she had once called home.

Hearth: I’m ashamed to say I’ve never used this one in my writing, but I do have this piece from Miraculous that I feel fits the theme, if not the exact word:

  Heart pounding, you pulled open the door of your home and were hit with a welcoming blast of warm air. You were so glad you stopped to light the fire before you set off round the farm, even if the sudden warmth did make your face tingle. Trying not to jostle the kitten in your coat too much, you shut the door firmly and banished the freezing storm.

  The tiny animal felt the immediate warmth, and began to wriggle in your arms. You quickly grabbed a small wooden crate that you used to ship crops and a thick hoodie that was draped over the end of your bed. Ignoring the way your boots left clods of snow across the floor, you marched towards the kitchenette.

  You set up the crate and hoodie as a cosy bed for the kitten close, but not too close, to the crackling fireplace, and gently deposited the little creature into the bundle of fabric. The kitten instantly started kneading the comfy cloth, pulling up threads with its tiny claws. You didn’t mind.

Tears: This one featured in so many of my writings! I decided to go for ‘happy tears’ and pulled this excerpt from my favourite piece so far: Photograph:

  Ocean-blue eyes met each other, and the young lady’s hand flew to her mouth, her bag dropping forgotten to the panelled floor. The motion made a gold, heart-shaped locket around her neck glint in the light, and Cliff didn’t have to see inside it to know exactly what photograph it held. His breath caught in his throat, and his knees suddenly felt as weak as an old man’s. Tears started to creep into the corners of his eyes as he watched them spill from the young woman’s.

  “…C-Cliff…?” she breathed hesitantly, as though she was afraid to hear the answer.

  “…H-Heather…” he croaked at last, and all at once it was like someone flicked on the light switch in a pitch-black room. One of them gave a stuttering cry, it was impossible to tell which one, and just like that they were in each other’s arms, hands wrapped around shoulders like they were afraid to let go.

No pressure tags: @sneakyfox55 @friendofbats @durotoswrites @lizzie-tempest and anyone else reading this that would like to have a go :)

Your words are: sunrise, warmth, puppy, and treasure.

[do-it-for-radagon]

HUGE spoilers for GTQ but girl gotta talk: Homen (Radowan)

Okay, I won't shut up about the man for the weeks to come so might as well get it out sooner or later.

I wanted to have a go at the soulsborne's favourite hobby - making a Berserk reference, but actually following what I preach. And here we are. Reverse-engineered Guts.

The Black Swordsman The concept was fairy simple, remake (witcherise, dare I say?) Guts to fit my own home turf of dark fantasy. Polonising beam go. As a base, I've went with one of the best known historical characters who also neatly ties in with Guts' undefeated swordsman trope and having 'the Black' in his moniker. Enter Zawisza the Black of Garbów, who was known for his knightly virtues, and being undefeated (undeterred?) in his conduct. His legend was even preserved in a saying "polegać jak na Zawiszy" [to count on someone like on Zawisza]. Jan Matejko's painting ,"Bitwa pod Grunwaldem" also offered a visual head-start. It is worth noting that in local nomenclature the moniker "Black" usually referred to the hair colour.

Both Zawisza (1370- 1428) and Grunwald (1410) are hallmarks of the Medieval period. Since I keep my themes revolving around Baroque, I had to throw Zawisza in a much harsher time. The set of astonishingly cruel conflicts known as the Thirty Years' War didn't spare lands then belonging to Poland. Religious prosecution, time of contempt and unthinkable violence caused a crisis of faith even among the most god-fearing folk. This is why Homen took part in all of the wars that marked Marika's reign. He has seen horible things and done horrible things, inching closer to breaking the oath he took. Guts

Naming him was notably the most tricky part. I've rejected English equivalents almost straight away and looked closer to home. My first instinct was to look into Polish folklore bestiary - as the creatures' names usually revolved around unpleasant things or were used as curses. The options to chose from included: - Boruta, Fugas,Rokita (the devils) - Licho, Zmora, Bieda (woe) - Mor, Mora (plague) I didn't pick any names with Polish letters in them, though I wanted to. Homen Being in the plague meaning group, Homen is a Carpathian entity manifesting as a procession of ghosts or creatures, who are carrying the Black Death (pl. dżuma) with them. The procession sings and plays instruments, and whoever the Black Death spots - is soon to join the crowd of the dead.

Seen as a 'curse' or nearing danger the name is similiar in its logic to Guts, bearing similar negative imaginery and death connotation. Radowan - Homen's chosen name, outside of its lighter origin [Rad - happy, Rada - advice], just like in the story Homen brings up - belonged to an architect - Majstor Radovan from the 13th century Dalmatia. Worth noting that Radowan's original name, the one he used before he came to the Lands Between is lost to time. Even I don't know what it was. Humanity

Your girle likes to subvert expectations as much as she likes to follow tropes. One of the core aspects of Guts' journey is battling his own inner dark. The cruel desires that come from being a human living in an antagonistic world. All that Guts knows is battlefield. Similiarly, Homen (Radowan), ate his teeth in battle. That's what he learned way back in his home land from his master, and this is something he constantly struggles with. Radowan is much happier making calculations as a quartermaster than swinging his oversized blade at the nearest fool. Truth be told, his mathematical prowess greatly exceeds his skill with the sword. He's also, in contrast to popular trends, short in statue. Being a little shorter than Adrianne (165 cm). This one is for the short kings. Heap of raw iron. The Dragon Slayer. Guts' iconic and woefully oversized weapon of choice. Can't have the Black Swordsman without the Sword huh. Death rites were always a bit eccentric, but few of them could beat the pompa funebris of sarmatic Poland. The Memento Mori crowd liked to be as dramatic as possible, this is why they usually recreated the death scene of the deceased during the funeral service in churches. The more widespread, less extravagant - but still telling act of honouring the dead warrior revolved around breaking the knight's sword and burying it with them.

Add these two and you get an oversized replica of a blade meant to be split in half and used as a tombstone. This is what Epitaph Greatsword meant to be originally. Made for the funeral of Homen's former master. A grand fighter and strategist, a terrible, terrible man. The sword itself is an upscaled Szczerbiec - the ceremonial sword used in the coronations of most Polish monarchs.

The inscription on the blade is a poem by Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer Elegia na śmierć Czarnego Zawiszy" [Elegy for the death of Zawisza the Black]

Nieprzyjaciel to k'niemu nie dąży, nie ma nazwy dlań wrogów nawała — on tu stoi: trwałości chorąży, pan swej duszy, władca swego ciała, ślubowany sam sobie i wpięty w własne koło swego przeznaczenia, ani wrogi, śmiały, ni zawzięty, tylko rycerz… Na miecz swój spogląda, miecz ze stali kuty i z płomienia, krwią nabrzmiały, chociaż krwi nie żąda.

Lofty words meant for a man who, in the most basic understanding of things, maimed and killed. Can it be done with virtue and honor? Such is the reality of war.

The blade is broken - but it's not incomplete. Homen who grew more and more resentful during his service to his master, bound the other's soul to this display of vanity. It serves as the broken end ever since, burning with a ghostly flame when summoned. Both the epitaph and the man vanished from their lands soon after. Here enter the oath. Homen swore that while wielding (posessing) the sword that is basically an eternal punishment for his master, he will never repeat his mistakes (violence, abuse of power and more) That is well, uh, going well for him. Perhaps this is why Death has been so cruelly avoidant of him.

It's 1 am and this has been my TEDtalk

[jmreynolds]

Belanger Books' anthology of all-new Carnacki stories, "The Book of Carnacki". It includes my story of liminal spaces gone wrong, "The Stalls of Wych Street". You can grab a copy from Amazon, but if you'd like a taste before that, I've included an excerpt below:

 “Can a street be haunted, do you think?” Thomas Carnacki asked, as he considered the chess board set before him. A fire crackled merrily in the Restoration fireplace on the far wall, warming the perpetually damp sitting room of the Cheyne Walk residence, as well as the two men who took shelter in it from the rain outside.

“I don’t see why not,” Charles St. Cyprian said, without looking up from the board.  “If houses can be haunted, or trees or wells, why not a street?” He reached for his remaining bishop, paused, and then sat back to reconsider his move.

As he did so, he let his eyes wander. He took in the familiar bookcases, badly in need of organization, the ceremonial masks mounted on the walls and the pair of ikwlas – short, stabbing spears favored by the Zulu – crossed above the fireplace. Strange statuary perched on the mantel or crouched on the untidy shelves like tigers in the long grass. The air smelt of incense and tobacco. It was the exact sort of sitting room one might expect of a man the popular press had dubbed ‘the Ghost-Finder’.

It wasn’t the first time Carnacki had invited him round, but it was the first time that Dodgson, Jessop and the others hadn’t been present as well. He didn’t care to speculate on what it might mean. It had been nearly a year since he’d made Carnacki’s acquaintance, and he still wasn’t sure why the other man had taken an interest in him.

There were precious few similarities between them. St. Cyprian, fresh out of university, with only 3rd class honors to show for his time, was a creature of cocktails and clubs and spent most of his monthly stipend on frivolities and passing fancies.

Carnacki was older by a decade at least, one of the last Edwardians. He dressed like a gentleman but swore like a sailor. And yet, there was a connection between them. Some ephemeral thread that inextricably bound them. For St. Cyprian, it was a puzzlement and an annoyance in equal measure.

“Tell me this then – if a street can be haunted, can it also be the haunter?” Carnacki offered the younger man a cigarette from his case. St. Cyprian took one, but hesitated. He discerned the familiar pattern of a trap in Carnacki’s question.

“Well, if that ain’t a funny question I don’t know what is.”

Carnacki smiled and checked his pocket watch. “Simple enough, I thought.”

St. Cyprian frowned and straightened. He was fairly certain he was winning, but it was dashed hard to tell with chess. All those squares made it hard to concentrate. “I say Carnacki old thing, are you trying to distract me?” He indicated the board.

“Not in the least, Charles. Have you decided on a move yet?”

“I’m still thinking.” St. Cyprian paused again. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“The answer to your question. You wouldn’t have asked unless you already knew. So, let’s have it – can a street haunt its neighbors?”

Carnacki snapped his pocket watch shut. “I don’t know. Why don’t we find out?” He pushed himself up out of his armchair and adjusted his waistcoat. “On your feet, Charles. Inspector Davies will be waiting, I expect.”

St. Cyprian looked up at the other man in surprise. “What?”

“St Clement Danes. Davies is meeting me there. I thought you might like to come along.” Carnacki paused. “Was I wrong about that?”

“I – no. No.” St. Cyprian stood, bemused by the sudden turn his visit had taken.

“Checkmate in three, by the way,” Carnacki said as he headed for the door. “You should learn to watch the board more carefully if you ever hope to win.”

St. Cyprian glanced down at the board and, after a moment’s consideration, ruefully tipped over his king. With a sigh, he snagged his coat from where he’d tossed it earlier and followed Carnacki into the foggy autumn night.

Carnacki stood on the stoop outside, lightning a cigarette and looking across the well-lit street towards the Thames. St. Cyprian lit his own cigarette, shivering slightly in the chill. “What’s at St Clement Danes, then?”

“Wych Street.”

“Which street?”

“Exactly. Come on.” Carnacki crossed the street in his usual rolling stride, buttoning his pea-coat as he went and a halo of cigarette smoke about his head. St. Cyprian jogged after him, awkwardly struggling into his own coat.

“Are we hailing a cab?”

“No, I think not.” Carnacki patted his stomach. “The constitutional will do us both good, I think. Besides, it will give us time to talk.”

“About?”

Carnacki glanced at him. “I think you know, Charles. You’re not as dim as you’d like others to think…though I doubt you’re half as clever as you imagine.”

St. Cyprian forced a laugh. “I daresay I’m not clever at all, old thing. Cleverness is overrated. Dab hand on the pitch though. Ask anyone.”

“I have.”

“And?”

“You’re not as good on the pitch as you imagine either.” Carnacki smiled, lessening the sting of his words. “Nevertheless, you have potential.”

“So my mother insists, daft woman.”

Carnacki sighed and adjusted the collar of his coat to keep out the drizzle. “As I was saying you have potential, Charles. That you choose to waste it as you have is something of a disappointment.” He looked at St. Cyprian. “I heard about that business with the Ponsonby girl’s pet rabbit last week, by the by. I do not approve.”

St. Cyprian looked away. “A harmless jape, Thomas. Nothing more.”

“Necromancy is not harmless, Charles. In fact, it is rather the opposite. And in poor taste, besides. The girl was traumatized.”

“I was only doing as she asked,” St. Cyprian protested. “And it was only a bit of ectoplasm besides. Is this why you invited me along tonight…to express your disappointment in how I conduct myself?”

“Not quite. Have you given any more thought to my offer?”

St. Cyprian frowned. “I hadn’t, no.”

Carnacki stopped and caught St. Cyprian by the arm, forcing the younger man to face him. “The Royal Occultist must have an apprentice, Charles. The position is yours, if you want it. I strongly suggest you take it – for your own good, if nothing else.”

St. Cyprian pulled his arm free of Carnacki’s grasp. He’d never even heard of the office before he’d crossed paths with Carnacki. The idea of someone being invested with the authority of the Crown in order to investigate the supernatural – or the abnatural, as Carnacki insisted on calling it – had seemed ludicrous at first.

But St. Cyprian had seen enough over the last few months to convince him that Carnacki wasn’t simply spinning one of his after-dinner yarns. Police inspectors weren’t the only ones to come to Cheyne Walk, hat in hand. He laughed softly and stared at the river. “I knew this was a trap. Jessop’s right – you always have an ulterior motive.”

“The only trap here is the one you insist on making for yourself,” Carnacki said, sharply. “Gifts like yours can turn sour, if not properly channeled.”

“I don’t have any gifts, Thomas. A few tricks, that’s all.”

“Tricks that could be put to better use than amusing party-goers.”

St. Cyprian blew a plume of cigarette smoke into the misty evening air. “How – by hunting ghosts with you? Not for me, old man. Sounds too much like work.” The thought was ludicrous. Dodgson or Arkwright – even Jessop – would’ve leapt at the opportunity. St. Cyprian preferred his ghosts at arms length, and Carnacki dashed well knew it.

Carnacki was silent for a moment. “Tell me, Charles – are you still having nightmares? About what transpired beneath Guildhall?”

“That’s none of your business,” St. Cyprian said, more quickly than he’d intended. He didn’t like to think about the night of their first meeting, or the events that had occurred thereof. The things he’d seen. Better to push it to the back of the old noggin, and let it lie. “I sleep fine, thank you,” he added. A blatant lie, and one that a part of him hoped Carnacki would call him on. But instead, the older man turned his attentions to the Thames. St. Cyprian fell into a disgruntled silence as they proceeded in the direction of St Clement Danes.

Eventually, he could stand it no more. They were turning onto the Strand when he said, “You still haven’t explained why we’re taking this nocturnal perambulation. There is no Wych Street – there’s an Aldwych, but no Wych Street. Not to my recollection, at least.”

“Ah, but there was. Once. Little over a decade ago, in fact. I’m surprised you don’t remember it. Infamous for its pornographic bookstalls – though I might be confusing it with Holywell Street.”

“Never had much a head for trivia, me,” St. Cyprian said. “What’s so special about this nonexistent street, then?”

“The fact that it apparently still exists, despite being torn down some years ago...”

[sexymen-sanctuary]

fuck, okay

this is like a reverse apple of discord, “to the most screwed over”

loki and wheatley aren’t here, so once-ler gets the claim of starting it all. and that’s its own brand of nightmare fuel, tbh. knowing on some level that you caused this just by existing

that if you go back far enough, it’s all your fault

bill, the second, everything about once‘s path magnified and warped to “fit” a new character and the new environment of another fandom

judging everything I’ve seen out of that fandom since childhood (2014-16, what I consider the “golden era”) I think bill cipher’s fanbase is as good as it is bad; their highs are really high and their lows are really low. I still see billdip in the tags to this day, but they’re a vocal minority that’s only gotten smaller over time, in addition to way more if not all of it being aged-up, so it’s marginally less painful to think about

of course, that leaves out the entire separate but closely-linked hell that is being turned from a literal triangle into a pale, slender twink for the gratification of others, rather than just being born looking like that (once and alastor) or not being pressured to look like that in the first place (sans)

oh god sans where do I even start with sans

the one that broke the mold, so they made a different mold and shoved him in that instead

I think once a sans AU gets too detached and officially becomes just an OC, with all traits / traces of being “a sans” removed, besides just being a skeleton-ish creature with similar build and magic rules, they’re no longer part of the sans fandom and thus no longer his problem. that said, both sanscest and fontcest still crop up across the internet to this day

I do think his general reputation has healed over the years, and surprisingly I think him winning “ultimate sexyman” 2022 and being a finalist for it in 2023 were factors, because I saw so much genuinely serious and thought-provoking discussion about him and his impact between all the ‘sans sweep’ jokes

and alastor, oh alastor: return to form, start of the next generation of sexymen (yes I know black hat exists shut up this ain’t about him), the baby of the bunch— chronologically from a meta standpoint, anyway. in canon, not a baby at all. opposite of baby, in fact

my instinct is to give him the vote because alastor gets SO much shit, but here’s the thing: half of that shit is from OUTSIDE the hazbin hotel fandom

most people I know hate alastor because they hate vivzie. they’re not hazbin fans with a least favourite character, they don’t like hazbin at all. and I get it! it’s perfectly logical that if you hate a person, you’ll likely hate what they create too, because our creations are often a reflection of our interests, ideals, and aesthetics

inside the fandom, of course there’s your usual: harassment, misinterpretation, flanderization, heaps of untagged nsfw, the last of which goes hand in hand with RAMPANT aroace erasure and general aphobia, good lord

but that’s just it: it’s the usual. it’s not new or shocking anymore. just annoying and tiring. and that makes it kinda hard to accurately judge how bad it really is

so I think sans and alastor are both safe from my vote, albeit for opposite reasons

with the book of bill releasing in about a month, I suspect it’ll be less of an explosion of new life and drama and more like a whale fall keeping us going for another few years. at least, I HOPE

. . .

*throws the apple at once-ler*

not personal preferencically, historically- however you interpret historically speaking is up to you, but answer honestly with yourself

[theslay3d]

Its more of a healing fic between Silena’s little sister that just got into camp and meets Drew and Drew slowly opens up and becomes Silena’s guardian

Drew Tanaka x Little sister!reader

Warnings:None i think

Word count: 563

A/N i love drew so much so redemption ark!!! also i chose luna as the name because Silena means moon and Luna means moon so... yes slay hope you enjoy bestie pearl

Drew knew that she could be mean. She knew that since forever. She wasn't always mean you see. Silena was her sister. The one who taught her everything. Silena always took care of Drew even when Drew got defensive and cruel Silena was there.

Drew knew something was up with Silena with the whole war going on. She woke up with nightmares every night and would only calm down if Drew or Charlie was there. After Silena betrayed them Drew changed. Everyone, especially her siblings saw that. 

She grew to be mean. To not let anyone, especially a sibling ever get to know her again. Maybe that's why Drew hated Silena after. She had no one after Silena and even if she did she shut them out. She couldn't get hurt if no one truly knew her. 

Until a new daughter of Aphrodite came. 

When Drew first saw the new camper her breath left her. She looked a lot like Silena which made Drew stumble back a step. 

Drew went forward to where the girl was and grabbed her arm. “Hey! Back off your scaring her” Drew said to the surrounding campers who were getting too close to the girl. 

Drew sucked in a breath as the girl's blue eyes met hers. Her eyes were scarily similar to Silenas. The girl smiled “Thank you” She whispered. 

Drew just nodded back. 

After a few minutes Chiron came and took her to see the film. 

Drew just stood there until her brother Mitchell walked up. “She looks alot like Silena right?” 

“Shut up” Drew muttered and walked off. Drew knew it was rude but right now she did not have the patience or energy to say anything else. She walked to the dock and just stared into the water watching all the creatures swim by. 

Drew stayed there for a long time until the new girl walked up. “H-hey i just wanted to say thank you again for helping me earlier” 

Drew turned her head. “You welcome i know the others can be crowding and annoying” 

“Can I sit with you?” The girl asked, tilting her head just like Silena did. 

Drew hesitated before she said yes. The girl sat down close to Drew. “I was claimed” The girl spoke up while fiddling with a bracelet. 

“By who?” Drew asked as she stared out on the lake.

“Aphrodite” 

Drew let a small smile grace her face but it was gone as quick as it came. “That's no surprise you're too pretty not to be a child of Aphrodite.” 

“Does that mean you're my sister?”

“I guess it does” Drew said back. Drew quickly asked “So what's your name kid?”

“Luna. Your name's Drew right? The other campers said your name” Luna didn't mention that they said to stay away from Drew because she was mean. 

“Yep” 

That was the first time they truly spoke and it definitely was not the last. The other campers were shocked when Drew started to seek Luna out and be nice to her. They were also shocked that Luna seemed to be changing Drew into the child she once was. 

No Aphrodite child mentioned the nights Luna would wake up crying and sneak into Drews bed. Just like how Drew did with Silena. 

Drew was Luna's big sister and she would protect her just as Silena once did for her.  

[honourablejester]

5e Homebrew Background

HERBALIST

Hedge witches, healers, midwives, poisoners and plant peddlers: herbalists have a reputation as many things. At the heart, though, the herbalist is a scholar of the natural world. You have dedicated a good portion of your life to the study and understanding of plants, their needs, natures and uses, how they can both help and harm other creatures. Some of that time may have been spent in study or experimentation, more of it in woods, hedges and ditches in search of specimens and samples, and perhaps some in aid of others, putting your knowledge to practical use, or simply selling your expertise or gathered materials onwards. Are you a lone scholar, more at home among the trees and plants, with only your notes for company? Or are you perhaps a more gregarious sort, putting your knowledge to good use in your village, town or community? Or something more sinister, supplying darker markets equally in need of your expertise?

Skill Proficiencies: Nature, plus your choice of one of the following: Investigation, Medicine, or Survival

Tool Proficiencies: herbalism kit, poisoner’s kit

Equipment: A set of traveller’s clothes, a herbalism kit, a pair of sturdy leather boots, a journal for your notes, and a belt pouch containing 5gp.

FEATURE: PROFESSIONAL COURTESY

The herbalist’s trade and expertise supply quite a few others. Potion brewers, apothecaries, alchemists, healers and hospitals all greet you warmly, and might be inclined to grant you small discounts on their wares or services, or be willing to supply you with local information should you express an interest, especially if you have knowledge or wares to trade in return.

SUGGESTED CHARACTERISTICS

The study of herbalism draws many types, from pragmatic healers (and poisoners), curious scholars, excitable brewers, and simple lovers of nature in all its myriad structures and forms. All of them, though, will have certain things in common: dedication, precision, and the desire for knowledge. Herbalism is a delicate, precise field, one that requires a lot of time and study, and one that involves a significant amount of searching through wet fields and woods and general exposure to the elements. Herbalists are scholars, but hardy ones, and many will have a distinct practical streak. The purposes to which they turn their knowledge and skills might be varied, but the process of acquiring them breeds a certain degree of similarity regardless.

Personality Traits (d8):

I have a tendency to mutter to myself over my notes and drawings.

I will happily jump off a cliff to reach a rare or interesting plant. Well, ideally I would find a safe way across, but if push came to shove …

I keep a ready supply of a rash-inducing or diuretic plant extract in a vial on my person, in case it should be needed.

I am perfectly willing to lie through my teeth if it gets someone to shut up and take their medicine faster.

I’m an incorrigible gossip and it doesn’t take me long to know the health ailments of everyone in a 10 miles radius.

I don’t like other people touching and potentially disorganising my things.

I’m always willing to wax poetic on the subject of my favourite plants.

I track mud and dirt everywhere, and am usually oblivious to various plant and dirt and chemical stains on my clothing.

Ideal (d6):

Natural Order. Everything has its reason and its rhyme, its cause and effect, its properties and its costs. (Lawful)

Healing. Nature gives us all the tools we need to help it and each other heal and remain strong. (Good)

Experimentation. There are secrets in even the smallest things, and what can we do but try everything we can think of to find them? (Chaotic)

Ruthlessness. The difference between medicine and poison is often simple dosage, and both have their uses. (Evil)

Knowledge. The more we know, the more we can do with this world and all it offers. (Neutral)

Precision. Whatever you’re going to do, take the time and do it right. There’s no cause to be sloppy. (Any)

Bond (d8):

I’ve heard tales of a rare species of plant that can only be found in one location. I desperately wish to find and study it.

I’ve been hired by a palace cook to find new and exotic herbs and spices they can present to their ruler. Preferably in a form that they can then grow for themselves.

A strange new sickness has been afflicting many of the plants in my home, and I need to find the cause and the cure for it.

A local criminal organisation has been pressuring me to supply materials for poisons for them. When I declined, they got … upset.

I’ve heard that a particular city, noble or institute of learning has the most extensive collection of information on the growth and cultivation of herbs in the realm, and I really want to see it.

I made a mistake once in identifying and advising the consumption of an herb. The client was left with lasting health effects. That will never happen again.

I was accused of witchcraft at my previous village and had to flee for my life.

I’m hoping to find a steadier source of income for my skills and knowledge, and I don’t particularly care about the legality (or morality) of that source.

Flaw (d6):

I am significantly more comfortable talking with plants than actual people.

I get extremely annoyed when people are sloppy and imprecise.

I don’t consider the uses other people might have for the knowledge I so readily offer them.

If murder is the quickest solution to a problem, I have some extract of belladonna for that.

I am serenely oblivious of social niceties and all the other silly pretensions of civilisation.

I would absolutely kill someone to protect a plant, without so much as a pause.

[africanotaku92]

Schrodinger's Boy

I missed Phan Phic Phight but now I'm here for Dannymay! Not really going along with the prompts, just wanted to write something for the month.

I dedicate this to @five-rivers because i love their stuff so much!

Please, enjoy!

***

Schrödinger’s Boy

It was dead when she saw it.

Oh so very dead, but walking. Talking. Living.

That really doesn’t make sense, so let’s start from the beginning;

Nelia Ugochi d’Bandinello was not a normal child. Ever since she was young, she could see death. And no, not like the walking skeleton clad in black robes and a scythe most people assume, but real death; the dead, the dying, the undead, all. No one, not even her closest family members knew, and she intended to keep it that way. As long as she kept to her own and didn’t cross the line for the rules, she was safe.

Ever since her family moved to this country, she knew the small, sleepy town was a little dead. The essence was in every nook and cranny, even the air had a thin yet distinctive layer of it. Nothing she couldn’t handle.

That is, until now.

The air’s death suddenly sharpened the moment before it walked in.

At first glance, it looked like a boy. A cute boy in fact. Short compared to her tall. Pale skin in contrast to her deep dark, straight black hair opposed to curly blond. Baby blue opposing forest green. But then, the closer she looked, the more she noticed what was off. Skin was a little too pale to be considered healthy, and became slightly transparent as she saw more. Hair was wispy and floaty, almost defying gravity, almost flowing like it was under water as its head bounced. Eyes a bit more, sunken, a bit more tired. Worst of all, its heartbeat sounded so, so slow.

And now, it was sitting two tables across from her.

She swallowed the milkshake that threatened to spill out of her mouth. She tried to turn back to her food, tried to ignore its presence. But she kept glancing its way, turning back to the most terrifying yet fascinating creature she had ever seen.

And she just. Kept. Staring.

One of its cohorts – the black one with glasses – pointed at her direction, and it suddenly looked over. Their eyes made contact. She gasped and looked away.

‘Such haunting eyes.’ She thought.

“Nelia? What’s wrong?” She looked up to see her brother Irnerio, who had previously been trying to unhinge his jaw to fit an absolutely massive burger, was now looking at her in concern.

“Nothing.” She forced out. She glanced back at them. Her brother’s concerned face was already contorting into a smug grin.

“Oh? Falling in love already?” He chuckled “It’s the pale boy, right?” Her cheeks heated. Definitely not what was happening.

“Shut up.”

“Well, you did say that one of the advantages of moving was ‘Date cute Americans’. Though I must say, I always thought that the goth girl would be more your type. You could both indulge in your weird fascination with death.”

She hit her brother in the ribs.

“Stolto*.” She hissed. “I said shut up.”

Her brother laughed.

***

“Dude, the new girl is totally checking you out.”

Danny swallowed his bite of a burger. “What?”

He, Sam and Tucker had gone to Nasty Burger for lunch that Saturday, and had noticed the two newest additions to the town residence. The girl had been looking at them ever since they walked in.

“She’s probably not into me. Probably looking at Sam. They look foreign, so for all we know, she may be their first goth.”

“An honour I am willing to have with pride.”

“She’s looking over here right now!”

Danny turned to where Tucker was pointing and sure enough, she was looking at them. They made eye contact, and hers widened and she looked away.

“See? Totally into you.” Danny rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Tuck.” He continued eating his burger. But somehow, he couldn’t shake the stare off of him. As if she was looking past his flesh and staring at the very ghost that made his soul.

He shivered at the thought.

***

Oh God above, it went to her school.

The creepy thing goes to her school.

She wondered how it got into her school. She wondered why, of all things, it had to attend as a student.

Mondays where truly the worst days of the week.

She had learned the creatures name was Danny Fenton, official school weirdo, son of the two most successful ghost hunters (oh the irony), and all-round loser she shouldn’t interact with (according to the Mexican girl that approached her). She didn’t really care though, as much as she was weary, she still wanted to know what it was. And she was determined to find out.

The bell rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. She sighed and pulled her books from her locker. She didn’t want to be late.

***

Hours later, school was long over, and Nelia was busy at work in the kitchen, kneading dough for her second batch of strawberry calzones, the first already in the oven. Her mother stood at in front of the doorway, watching her.

“That’s a lot of dessert calzones for 4 people.”

She finished kneading and started rolling out the dough. “Oh no, ours are part of the last batch. Most of these are offerings.” She turned to her mother. “I’m going to the Cemetery after dinner. To pay some respects.”

Her mother sighed. There was no talking her out of this. Every time they go someplace new, she always paid her respects at a local gravesite. She stopped trying to prevent her a long time ago.

“Well, just be back before midnight. But in the meantime, let me help you close the ones you’ve already filled. We could talk, use some mother daughter bonding time.” She smiled and nodded at her mum, handing her a spare apron. She gladly took it and set to work beside her daughter.

“Have you heard? There’s a story I heard. They say this town has some kind of ghost hero…”

***

It was late in the evening, and she had paid her respects at the last grave when she saw him.

And he was oh so very much Alive.

Silver white hair adorned his head like a glowing crown. Striking, electric green eyes, a black jumpsuit with white boots and gloves. Veins, across his skin, visible with the implication of pure green death flowing in them, the sound of each breath he takes. A pulsating buzz emitting from his chest, almost sounding like a beating heart. These where the features of Amity Park’s local hero and (dead) celebrity, Danny Phantom.

And he had just landed in front of her.

“Um, are you ok? It’s pretty late out.”

She blinked at first, startled to hear him talk, but composed herself enough to speak.

“Ah, yes I’m fine. Just, paying my respects.” She gestured to the grave and the basket of food.

“Oh, really? That’s nice of you! Apart from family, hardly anyone pays respect these days.”

“Yes, it’s something I try to do everywhere I go. Speaking of respect, where’s yours?”

Danny blinked. “My what?”.

“Your grave. I have to pay my respects to you. This is the only cemetery in town, but I didn’t see your grave.”

Danny froze in shock. He hadn’t really thought about it.

“Oh. I kind of, uhm, don’t have one?” Because I’m not really dead.

It was Nelia’s turn to be shocked. And then she was angry. Was this town really so ungrateful that they didn’t have a grave for their hero? That wouldn’t do.

“Where do you want one?”

“What?”

“Where would you want your grave? I’m going to make you one.”

Danny’s eyes widened.

“Your… going to make a grave for me?” “Of course? It’s only common decency, a basic right to the dead. I might not have your body, but if I have a photo to at least mark your image, it would do.”

Danny was stunned by this gesture. No one had offered him a grave before. So, he told her about his ideal spot.

Weeks later, in a secluded spot in the woods, he stands with her above a freshly dug grave, underneath a willow tree, facing directly at the night sky marked with a picture of him in his ghost form. She drops a plate of calzones and lights some lavender incense. She pays her respects and stands back letting him trace over the picture and admire the grave. It’s not the best grave, but it’s also the only one he’s received. He couldn’t help it, as a few tears dripped from his eyes. It was a sweet gift.

He turns to her, clasps his hand in hers. He manages to choke out between tears.

“Thank you.”

She stares back at him. This action, it’s so… human. She senses familiarity, like she could almost imagine him when he was alive……

Oh.

Oh.

The connection between the dead boy and alive ghost hits her like a train, all the similarities adding up. She smiles at him.

“It’s your grave. You should bring your friends to see it.”

His eyes widen in panic, wondering how she found out. She shakes her head.

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

He relaxes and nods, let’s go of her hands and they stare back at his very own grave. Sam and Tucker are going to flip when they see it.

That night, she’s back in her room, wide awake, thinking of everything that happened. His hands were cold, but not like death cold. Like he had stuck his hands in the freezer. His tears were so real.

This boy, who was dead yet alive. Walking perfectly on the line between life and death, tittering to neither side.

Schrödinger’s boy indeed.

[ilikeyoubetterthisway]

Bring Karura BACK!!

Hellooooo.

Here I will just quickly (not really), explain a bit of my theories about the manga regarding Ryuuji and Karura, along with the rest of the Immortals, and what I'm expecting/hoping to happen for the rest of the war arc and other tidbits I found laying around.

Enjoy!!

First of all I want Ryuuji to be able to summon Karura, they literally have Tatsuma and Gozo discussing about the possibility of summoning him back from the vessel of forced possesion (aka. Todou).

Like, they wouldn't just hint at this possibility and then not doing it in the future, and even more now that they are in the middle of a war against very strong forces.

They are talking about summoning him back, but there's no need since Ryuuji still has his contract on going.

We have been drilled into our heads of the outstanding regenerative powers of Karura by Todou not shutting his mouth about it during the Kyoto Arc, so I would guess he (Karura), would be able to easily come back from dying and being used as a lab rat for the elixir that helped to perfect Satan's cloned body.

This could also be followed by his similar demon kind used for the same experiment, the Ouroboros and Hydra, since they are also creatures/demons of regenerative abilities that represent death and rebirth, destruction and creation. (And we also know that the more powerful the demon, the faster it can regenerate, like how it took Lucifer a few hours to return from being destroyed during the Blue Night, it could also apply to the Immortals but would take a bit longer).

According to the legends:

Phoenix: (Karura) A fire bird that arises from the ashes of his own predecesors. Death and rebirth. A cyclical life.

Hydra: (Hachirotaro) A water and wind snake/dragon that regenerates its head by double every time one gets cut down. Death and rebirth. A ciclical life.

Ouroboros: An (earth??) serpent reptile that eats its own tail, continually eating itself and being reborn from itself. Death and rebirth. A ciclical life.

Anyways, I want Ryuuji to summon Karura back because he never frickin broke the aeon wave flame contract with him and he was also the last one to have an actual, valid contract, since Tatsuma clearly passed it down to Ryuuji (1), (2), and he explicitly said after, that his contract with Karura was broken (3).

While with Ryuuji, he simply fainted from exhaustion during the Impure King battle, but it was never declared that their contract broke or was annuled in some way.

Like, just how it happened during the Kyoto Arc, Karura divided himself into two beings, one with Todou and the other one with Ryuuji, and thus the elixir experiment being succesful means that Todou and the other chosen ones died along with the immortal demons. A part of Karura died but the other part still lives inside Ryuuji.

That means that the forced possesion with Todou and all the other guys was broken and they can go to being independent but Karura would go back to Ryuuji since their contract was never broken.

And he would go back to him on full power too, because if you remember when he split up, Tatsuma had already broken/lost the generational contract with the head priest of Myo Da but still had his personal one between himself (Tatsuma Suguro) and Karura (the aeon wave flame contract). What Ryuuji "inherited" was the smaller and younger (time wise) contract of Tatsuma and Karura, thus that's why Karura was so smol and cute and nesting on top of Ryuuji's head agh the cutie bean.

Meanwhile, what Todou devored and then proceeded to force bodily possession on himself, was the larger, oldest self of Karura that was in the contract (now broken), between the head priest of Myo Da and Karura.

Karura told Tatsuma that their generational contract was broken because Mamushi, Rin, Todou and many people learned about it but Tatsuma told him that the personal one was still standing. Karura was just like "fine" but his body stayed the same, it didn't diminish in size or anything, until Todou devoured the available part of Karura (the generational contract).

I do believe that a generational contract has more power than a one life time contract but at this point it just depends on the different amounts of contracts the demon has, how many "bodies" it posesses; and if it only has one valid contract then, despite the lack of generational length of it, the full power of the demon would still go to the one active contract, which in this case would be Ryuuji's.

2. Also, we know that Karura asks in return secrets, he feeds on lies and suspicions, of making things secret.

Almost or if not all of Myo Da's secrets were revealed during the Kyoto Arc, so Ryuuji can't really feed him with that, but, he just became Lightning's apprentice which entails him to all the secrets about Section 13, the Okumura brothers, Yuri, Shiro, Mephisto, Satan, the demon kings, the Asylum, the Illuminati, the entire Order of the True Cross, etc, etc.

All that information spans at least over 16 years of secrets and lies, since the birth of the Asylum and the True Cross. Ryuuji really got hit with all that on the face in less than, what? 1 week?? four days??, that is more than enough to keep Karura satisfied for the following weeks or even months in regards to secrets.

Besides, I want to point out how when they were starting their investigation and Lightning went to question Mephisto about it on his bathtub, Mephisto was kinda going to play hard to get, but we got a few panels of him glancing towards Ryuuji and then immediately agreeing to talk. (Imean, isn't this weird? Why would he decide to spill one of his biggest secrets right after seeing the boy in the demon contract with an immortal that feeds specifically on secrets, hmmm... I wonder wHy...).

(gah, I remember reading this chapter when it came out and finding it weird that Ryuuji was focused on here and was practically the reason for Mephisto to start talking, sigh... li'l ol' me already knew there was some shady stuff happening but was too young and too early to realize it, damn. dis is some gud stuff).

(Also, poor Ryuuji, the amount of distress and torment he endured during this entire time must have been exhausting, thankfully Lightning and Izumo, along with his entire family and friends, helped him to calm down, gosh he needs a hug).

And just to finish it up with a nice touch. After telling them where to find Section 13, Mephisto says this:

._.

"Raising suspicion" ah? Dear Mephy? Because you know that someone has the immortal demon chicken that feeds on lies, suspicions and secrets?? HM??? You wanna keep him well fed ah?? I wonder for wHat specific event that may happen in the future he would come in handy... (cough the war cough if you didn't realize it already cough)

Now, I'm not sure if a few people knowing the truth would affect the amount of nice food that Karura gets, like how Uwabami and Jaozo kinda knew about some of the stuff Tatsuma was hiding, so maybe the food effect would only last up until Ryuuji, Izumo, Osceola, Lucy and Lightning saw the whole laboratory thing with Drac and showed Angel.

And also, if Karura feeds on secrets, it could also be secrets not even known to the user, like before all the Lightning stuff, in between the Kyoto Arc and the Section 13 arc, (as well as throughout the entire manga), Ryuuji was developing, harboring and realizing his feelings towards Izumo, I'm sure Karura could feed off of that too, for more simple they could be, they caused a great deal of confusion and conflict during the Illuminatic Arc right until he confessed them to Izumo, but even after that, only Izumo knows about them, is just one person, so the secret is still a secret, nobody else knows (officially), he still doesn't know if his feelings are corresponded and still feels and seems conflicted whenever Izumo gives or receives some kind of attention from another guy (Rin, Shima), all that inner turmoil, doubts and suspicions would keep Karura well fed inside Ryuuji.

3. Also, why in the universe would Kato sensei give us this big hint in the official art of the 10th anniversary with Ryuuji holding his Buddhist priest beads with red fire coming out of it for literally no reason unless is foreshadowing for something that later could be important and relevant??

(Also, look at dem ships beautifully standing one beside the other, the boy's arms holding them inside their own body frames, sighhh cuties <333)

Also, I love the fact that the three boys from the gang (sorry Koneko, you are our strategist man), have the three different flames from Gehenna and Assiah:

Ryuuji: Red Flame, Assiah's physical fire, that destroys the physical aspect of the things, the vessel of possesion or external temptaint. (Ryuuji thinks and feels too much, you know, non-tangible things, so he would have the red flames in order to balance himself out).

Shima: Black Flame, Gehenna's spiritual fire, that destroys the demon possessing the vessel while leaving the vessel intact. (Shima is all about physical desires and dreams so he needs the spiritual flame in order to balance himself out).

Rin: Blue Flame, Assiah and Gehenna's fire in one, being able to burn both the physical and non physical being. (And Rin being both human and demon has the special blue flames that are both spiritual and physical flames that also help balance himself out).

4. And continuing with the talk about the three immortal demons.

They are fire (phoenix), water (hydra) and earth (uroboros) [most likely].

We know that Ryuuji has a contract with Karura and has used him before, his powers include regenerative abilities and shields.

Yukio has some affinity in summoning water type demons (the naiads, and he just needs more confidence bc he's already able to summon eight of those things like plEase), as well as he had an almost contract with Hachirotaro himself so that could mean something you know?, his powers include hypnotic abilities, and regenerative abilities with his blood. Shura could come here and help him manage the new powers since she used them for so long and had a contract with Hachirotaro.

And I guess the earth demon, ouroboros, could only be for Shiemi..? since she's related to the earth as well, but I'm not that sure, I still need to find someone that can make that contract and find the actual demon in the manga jaja.

Maybe, they will unite, along with Mephisto's special weapon, to lower Satan's body defences, and then everyone will strike together like the good shonen manga that this is, because if Satan is defeated by the dumb Devil *star* Banisher thing that Mephisto created and the manga ends right then and there ima just gO.

Also, that thing of Satan dying thanks to Angel's Holy Light Descension is pure bs since I'm pretty sure Satan will regenerate by next chapter (what was the entire point of the immortal's regenerative powers, if not for this kind of situation?), or he will proceed to try and posess Rin because he was going to be his og vessel, anyways, this war cannot be that short, I want to see everyone participating and I hope Lucy is okey :c.

I'm not saying I want nakama power to win the big war, I want a good demonstration and participation of every member of the gang with all their new skills, abilities and powers in the final battle to see their development and growth. Gah please.

Also, please, Ryuuji, just summon Karura and kick someone's a$$ alreadyyyy ahhhhh. And I want to see my goddess Izumo perform the Metamashizume no Harai ritual again and kick some a$$ as well. Those special capes must come in handy if they keep the stamina inside the body of the individual, is different if the person was already worn out, injured and tired (like Yukio), but it could be different with someone who was pretty ok for the most part (like Ryuuji, Izumo, Koneko, etc).

Anyways, thank you so much for reading all the way here! This is all a theory and some analysis I came up with, sorry for the many paragraphs and if it's confusing as well for the weird english.

I hope you look forward for the next chapter as much as I do! :D

See ya next time~~!!

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Worth The Eternity: Dark! Bucky x Reader (Vampire AU + Mob AU + Soulmate AU)

This is for @cherienymphe’s 5K Twilight Renaissance Writing Challenge. Congratulations, keep slaying! I wrote this instead of studying, so pray for my paper please lmao.

A/N: This tired girl tried. 

WARNINGS: something between dubcon and noncon present. Triggering, darkish themes.

Summary of sorts: Ever seen Hotel Transylvania 1/2/3? In this AU, mythical creatures exist and have soulmates and you feel a zing if you are blessed enough to encounter them.

"Boss, we narrowed it down to these core three suspects.” A husky voice, slightly muffled by the sack on your head, entered your ears and you had a hard time being calm.

You had been picked up from your office, specifically the basement of Oscorp Industries while entering your sleek silver car. A pinch in your neck and everything comically blurred. Next thing you know, you are waking up with your entire body sore, your muscles and joints screaming and begging for freedom from tight restraints. Your vision is black, as if you are staring into an abyss and your vision is filled with white and red dancing spots forming patterns, maybe from the hours of inactivity.

Muffled noises of protest and scraping of metal against the concrete floor entered your ears and you realized you are not the only one here held captive. You racked your mind for possible explanations but couldn’t come up with one.

You lived a very simple life, even as the vice president of Oscorp industries. No messing around, no rivalries with other employees, no butting heads with the seniors on the Director’s board. Was this a ploy against the company? Or a domination statement against the weaker species, the humans?

Lucky enough for you, you realized you would soon find out as the sound of a shutter opening and metal clanking noisily filled your ears.

“Took you long enough, Scott. Fill me in.” Another brooding voice reprimanded jokingly and a million goosebumps traveled the path of your skin as you involuntarily shuddered.

“Yes Boss. We tracked the missing sum to the account of this man on the left. He has fourteen other accounts under different names and nationalities, pretty hard to trace but not impossible luckily. This proved he is shady so he’s most definitely involved.”

“This ginger on the right, he made the suspicious call with weird words so we believe he pretty much passed the verdict, calling the shots with the codewords. He has had several surgeries, his face is fucking silicon at this point but his DNA showed us his true identity, Mr. Rumlow here is the Consigliere of The Midnight Moon.”

You sat and listened, piecing together whatever you understood. The pack/mob name more than rung a bell, it scared you shitless. You were quick to catch on, realising that you were caught in an inter species scruffle.

“This shit just got interesting folks. Alright, where does Miss Sexy Legs fit in all this?”

The pencil skirt you wore wasn’t the most modest piece of clothing to exist and the spaghetti straps blouse was a bad choice considering the sheer coldness in this warehouse, the temperature only seemed to go down with the entry of your kidnappers but it’s not like you knew this was going to happen.

You could only assume with your legs on display that you were the one being sexualised and talked about.

“We are not sure about her though, that’s why I said suspects. We have proof the call was made from her phone but the videos show her lending it to a creepy stranger at a café. It might be really good acting but it’s highly unlikely. We brought her in because in the transfer of the stolen cash, her account was an intermediary but it’s a good chance that she was tricked when her phone was borrowed by Mr. Rumlow. Also, she’s a human, you see?”

If it was you being talked about, you felt a jot of relief, just a smudge because at least they were aware you weren’t involved in whatever game they were playing. That didn’t necessarily ensure your freedom, but hey, you were willing to take anything at that point.

“That’s the sweet fucking scent I keep on smelling!” The leader exclaimed as if he made a great discovery, a cure for a pandemic or cancer you’d think. His gruff voice almost had a light, cheery undertone to it, too unlike of a man who was wronged and cheated and was close to murdering someone no doubt. These mobsters are always maniacs like The Joker.

“It sucks that you brought her here. She might not be guilty, but now she knows too much. She’d make a good blood bag though. Maybe I’ll just have a taste, who knows?” The ‘boss’ made a disturbing slurping noise and your heart stopped at his words, a tear almost escaping your eye.

Discussion about drinking blood? You were most definitely in The Vamps territory, your assumption about the inter-species conflict true. You had no doubt you were the weakest in this creepy space, the frailest here, most probably the only human.

“Show me the bastards’ faces.” Like the flip of a switch, the joking man swapped his personality and all but growled. You heard the ripping of cloth and a man gagging, his shrieks muffled. Another flurry of movements and another man retching on the fabric could be heard.

“Well, hello Mr. Rumlow. I must say, brown suited you better.” A horde of chuckles made you widen your eyes, even though only black still filled your vision, as you realised there were at least a dozen twisted, sick men in the room. The fact that they were silent as fuck till now only showed you how disciplined and regimented these soldiers were.

“This one has a pretty face, boss.” You felt the sack ripped off you, and your eyes closed with the sudden flooding of the lights. Your eyes sealed due to hours of inactivity and you kept them shut, afraid to face your tormenter.

A cold hand cupped your cheek and straightened your face that was trying to hide itself in your silky locks by curling in your own neck, the cool metal of rings and insanely icy fingers chilling you literally.

“Open your eyes sweetheart.” A voice called out behind you and you gathered enough courage to face your impending doom, the air as silent as the calm before a storm.

Your orbs opened and gazed into piercing sapphire blue eyes and everything behind this chiseled face blurred. You could swear a ring of pink and red passed over his eyes and you shuddered again, getting overwhelmed due to the eye contact yourself. This wasn’t the usual anxiety you felt while meeting new people, it was somehow both a pull and a push. An inviting comforting pull and a terrifying, ‘stay cautious' push.

You, a self-sufficient woman, who had been independent for as long as you could remember, suddenly felt half; incomplete in a way that you couldn’t fathom. You felt an attraction, a tug towards the man in front of you, and the absurdity of the thoughts and emotions that popped in your brain made you heave on the gag.

Your intellect couldn’t find a reason, your view on love and romance until now completely conflicted. You believed soulmates to be separate pieces of art that complemented each other when together; then what was this broken jigsaw puzzle sentiment you were having now?

Your wide eyes somehow managed to break free of his stare, panicking and looking around to observe, which wasn’t comforting in the least as men with guns and gadgets filled your vision. You were relatively unharmed in comparison to the beaten lads beside you, one with a bruised face and the other with a bloody one.

The handsome man, the Boss’s stare didn’t leave you through the entirety of your searching around, you were sure they saw you as a scared little rabbit, waiting out its inevitable death.

“Lost in her eyes, Boss?” The sideman cracked what he believed to be the funniest joke in existence, earning laughs of the horde of the soldiers around.

 Your eyes went to the Boss’s face, surprisingly when his left your face to glare a nasty stare on his trusted man. His muscular form raised the forelimb, his hand signaling to stop, that effectively quietened the room to a pin drop silence.

With gentle fingers, the man took off your gag and yours lips quivered, throat too dry to make a noise though. You greedily gulped the air through your mouth for whatever reason, maybe just to move your jaw after hours of inactivity.

Maintaining eye contact was challenging, arduous to say the least. It seemed as if he could read you, find everything about you there is to find by studying the flecks in your orbs. His delicate hands, loosened the ties and you were now more so confused, along with the trepidation.

Just what the fuck was going on?

Bucky had almost lost hope, centuries on this planet and no one to love and cherish, no personal confidante, no soulmate. But good things take time, right? And in his opinion, best things take an eternity. He knows this now.

Expect the unexpected was the truest phrase, idiom whatever it was, in this moment. He had spent countless nights wondering about his soulmate, was she pretty? Ugly? Was she even a she or not? Dumb or witty? He made a lot of scenarios of how they’d meet, the kids, reigning together. He entertained the idea of her being from a different species, a nymph, an orc, maybe a werewolf?

And now that he found her, it was a revelation, a surprise honestly. After all optimism got evaporated, after traveling the dark tunnel for centuries literally, there she was, his beacon of light. Finding her was a wonder, and her being a human was astonishing, a possibility he somehow failed to consider, but he was over the moon cause there she was, right in front of him now. A beautiful, stunning lady in flesh and blood, human flesh and blood, with the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. His zing.

He always liked humans, apart from the similar appearances the vampires shared with them, they were always docile and accommodating. In the last few millenniums, after the mythical creatures showed themselves to the world, the humans understood their place and tier pretty early.

They were smart to surrender and be peaceful as all the species came to light, clever to know that even with less numbers they could be overpowered and bloodshed was detrimental to all involved.

He knew he would convert you soon though, your lifespan far too short for his liking, and obviously, now that he found you, you were to rule together. For Centuries.

His happiness was over taken by the realisation that you were not in the most hospitable settings, you were tied and strapped, being preyed on by his men. He made quick work of the restraints, allowing you to breathe by loosening them first. Your scared, trembling form plucked his unbeating heart’s strings, but strangely enough, his brain found amusement and he felt smug. Seeing you tied up and trembling was definitely a turn on for him, noted.

After commanding his foolish men to stop giggling, he leaned closer to you, your aura comforting and intoxicating as he smelled your hair. A divine scent, an addictive one for sure. The goosebumps on your skin confirmed the reciprocation of his connection.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you.” His husky voice, calming but imposing resonated in your ears, his hand tapping your cheek on the other side. Even though the private statement was whispered for you, the deafening silence made every person witness it.

He leaned back, his hands behind his back as he grinned, tone again light like earlier and commanded, “Get her out of here and cleaned up, tell Nat and Wanda, they’ll know what I mean. Then we’ll deal with these guys here, after the lady leaves of course. No scratch on her from this point forward or you’ll lose a limb. Proceed.”  

All three of you, the hostages were going to get ‘taken care of’ but in different ways.

It had been over twenty hours for sure, you were abducted in the early hours of the morning and now the moon was out again, like one endless night. You remember being escorted to a sleek black car; your limbs ached but you managed to keep up. You tried to keep up with the car’s turns, trying to memorize the streets but your head was pounding and eyes were blurry.

You remembered being led to a suite in an expensive hotel like ones where your conferences were held, being taken to room and given towels to clean up. You didn’t change the dress when given another, the attire being a summer dress even shorter.  A woman came a while later named Wanda who checked the forming light contusions and scuffed skin with hands so delicate, as if you were precious cargo. You were, you just didn’t know.

You didn’t eat anything they provided and after hours of conspiring and overthinking, you heard sturdy footsteps. Since your arrival, only women bothered with you, probably the ones the leader sent. But these were heavier, harder.

The door opened and you glanced up to find the leader who demanded your locking up in this fancy place, his eyes travelling on your form sat up on bed, as you mindfully pulled your skirt down. You were anxious the entire day, dreading your future but nothing was like the restlessness that ran through you in this person’s presence.

Maybe it was the fact he was a vampire, or the leader of a Mob or maybe both, but whatever it was he intimidated you, alarmed you, even though you’ve had only two encounters including the present one. You were smart to be scared, he looked at you like, like you were something to eat, your mind told you.

“Hey.” His raspy voice caught you off guard, not having heard a single syllable out of the women the entire day, your questions being ignored the entire time.

You stared at him warily. Your mind having a myriad of emotions and thoughts. You didn’t want to trigger him, besides the place being armed well, he was a vampire, a beefy one at that and you would be stupid to try anything. Shouting and making a scene was no good either, your best option being the lamest one: to talk it out. You refused to become a willing blood bag.

You let out a long sigh, surprising him somehow, “Look, I have money, resources in the business sphere, information, what do you want? I know I got caught in this by accident, but I’m willing to do a lot of things to get out. Name it and I’ll do my best.” You said with your ‘business deal’ voice, the wise, guiding leader voice from your office.

For some reason though, the man found it hilarious. He slapped his hand on his chest, his boisterous laugh echoing. It wasn’t that good a joke if he believed it to be one. Men, ever so condescending.

“Humans, ever so gluttonous. I don’t want your money, precious.” His term of endearment didn’t fall short to your ears, but you had larger things in play here than a sweet nothing.  

“I have other things to offer, name it.” Within your moral sphere, of course.

“You still don’t get it, do you? And you humans boast you have everything figured about us.”

He neared you and you leaned to the inner area of the bed, refusing to get cornered to the wall if things escalate and wanting to have the option of running away, probably in vain though. With each step he took, a new shudder ran through you because of the closing distance between your bodies, it getting triggered in unexplainable ways.

You didn’t need to say words to prompt him to explain, your scrunched eyebrows already doing that mission. “You should feel it too, you know? The goosebumps, the bewilderment in your insides, you’re intoxicated by my very presence too, aren’t you?”

The more he neared, your breaths quickened visibly, his words becoming truer. Your skin heating, mind losing a bit of consciousness. His presence didn’t affect you to this extent in the warehouse, but now? You were putty, almost incapable to think. You tried to roll over to the other side but your plan failed because he caged you with his bulky hands on your shoulder, body diagonal across yours. With how slow and out of it you were, he didn’t even need his heightened speed to trap you.

“Oh, it’s kicking in, isn’t it? The realization, the surge of love and lust? To be held and cherished and be full of me?” He smirked at your trembling form, your chest heaving and weak arms trying to push him off.

“I’ve read humans feel flushed, hot, so let’s get you out of these scraps, yes?” He slid off the thin straps while you mumbled a very unconvincing ‘stop’. Both actions were pretty pointless because he wouldn’t stop, you both knew that and also, he ended up taking the top off over your torso the normal way.

Your hands barely managed to land themselves on his wrist to pull them off, but the foolish limbs ravished in the feel of his cold skin instead. It was like a high you had never experienced and your body wanted more. It was already addicted to the feel of this stranger whose name you didn’t even know.

He unzipped the skirt, your pathetic body no longer even fighting him as he rambled on. “Among us vampires, well not much to tell but we’re all freezing cold when we find our ‘zing’. Like every normal day. Except for the inability to think and the need for their mate’s blood, of course.”

He came back up to kiss you, his body now in line with yours as one hand held your cheek and the other groped your breast. You had an out of body experience, feeling disgusted for reciprocating the kiss but also wanting more of that, more of him.

He trailed down your neck to your collarbone and you gasped for air, your thoughts incoherent. He kissed between the valley of your breasts, removing the bra sometime in between as you heaved. He wanted nothing more than to rest in those swells for an eternity.

As soon as cold air hit your nipples, one was being sucked while other was being pinched. The nameless stranger alternated between licking like a kitten and sucking like a baby on the breasts. Your rational part felt gross but the dominating side was the one experiencing delight.

He kissed down the sternum, to your bellybutton and then hovered above the thin, flimsy underwear. His hands slid down your sides, down the curve of your waist and hooked themselves at the cloth’s side, pulling them down in a swift motion.

Your legs quaked, trying to close themselves but one muscular arm on your thigh was able to hold them off, throw one away from the other. He leaned down and you were pathetically still under his muscles, your lower limbs either not daring to move or not wanting to.

You wrapped your hands around your torso to hide a bit of yourself, but did that really matter in the larger picture of the events unfolding right now?

You closed your eyes, tears already escaping since minutes ago as you tried to accept the reality of what was happening. A cold sensation on your little button caught you off guard; an infinitesimal fraction of time later, an inhale reached your ears.

You looked down, opening your eyes to find the man smelling you, his Grecian nose poking through your folds and taking in sniffs of your intimate part.

“Please sto-”      

“The scent at its source, so fucking divine. I want a taste.” With that, your sentence got interrupted by his words and then by his action as his tongue licked away. It sucked on the bead, delving in the cavity there pretty fucking deep and he slurped away like he pretended to do when you were blindfolded.

Your back arched like a gymnast, hands that were folded across your chest clawing at your own skin, leaving marks behind. His hands were hooked around your thighs and they threw your legs on his shoulder some point in between. When he thrusted three fingers at once, an audible wheeze left your lips, your noiseless gasps now hoarse ‘Aah’s and you could feel him smirk.

There a also a lot of teeth involved with his razor sharp canines that appeared out of nowhere during this and when he thrusted his fingers particularly hard with his teeth nibbling on your sensitive bud, you shamelessly let go of the inside flow.

It felt humiliating and mortifying, your body glowing with the aftereffects of descending into bliss while your mind wanted to cry. Your soul was surprisingly content with what unfolded, at peace. You hated the diversity of emotions you felt, revolted to find even a bit of positive sentiment at your assaulter’s actions.

While your inner monologue happened, the man got up and out of his clothes painfully quick. You tried to sit your up, feebly trying to escape but ineffectively so. Your eyes couldn’t meet the handsome stranger’s nor did you want to see him naked and removed him form your eyeline, making you get caught off guard when his hands wrapped around your ankles and pulled you down, finishing the small distance you managed to crawl up.

His hands left their place as he kissed his way back up your flushed skin, from the swell of your ankle to the swell of your stomach. He licked away the drops of blood around the crescent scratches left by your nails under the intense ecstasy he forced upon you. Then he continued his journey from the swells of your chest to the swell of your cheek, taking you in a fiery, needy yet affectionate kiss.

Your surroundings blurred a second into the kiss, mouth and skin hungry for his touch alike. A thrust had you painfully gasp as you were stretched unlike ever before, impaled to a depth unlike ever before. He kissed away your tears that continued to spill on command of your ashamed mind and leaned back to look into your eyes, a pretty pink passing over them for a fleeting second.

His blue orbs bore into yours and you almost believed he loved you by the intensity of his gaze. At this moment in time, nothing but you two mattered, connected and finally together. How you got here didn’t matter, how unwilling you were didn’t matter. This felt right, felt necessary and was worthy of everything you went through. The rational part seemed to die the instant you two physically connected and somehow, everything and nothing made sense.

But you felt complete.

Your lips captured his of their own accord, and you both smiled into the caress of your lips while he began thrusting, one hand on your waist, the other supporting his weight. Out of breath, he leaned back, still thrusting though, and gazed at you. “Scott back there, he called you pretty, that’s practically an insult. The way you look right now, you’re much more than beautiful. You’re ethereal, my Zing, the loveliest in existence.”

His genuine words tugged at your heart. For some reason you believed him, had confidence in his feelings. Your foreheads connected as he quickened, his hand caressing your skin, the cool against your warm skin soothing. It didn’t take long for you to let go again this time; your previous resolution already dissolved. He neared your ears and whispered, “I want you to scream my name. It’s Bucky.” You nodded absentmindedly, chasing the high.

One particular thrust paired with his canines piercing your skin made you cry out “Bucky!” and you felt him smirking in your neck, lapping the blood. You wilted in bliss and your eyes closed, warmth filling you minutes after. Your eyes were dazed and you felt ‘Bucky’ shift, removing his towering frame from you, a goofy smile on the chiseled face.

With mind free of the aforementioned disapproving thoughts, you checked out his handsome face. It was like you saw him in an entirely different light now.

He gave you a quick peck, his hands cradling your face and he spoke with the utmost sincerity. “You are worth the wait, precious. No measure of time with you will be long enough. But we’ll start with forever to compensate. I’m never letting you go.”