#just living her own life; in hiding; in disguise as a human

[snakeeyesandangelfeathers]

Soo, could Maggie be a demon?

Still can't get over that one scene where her wrong spelling is literally Pointed out.

You know. By Aziraphale. In the first scene post-prologue.

It is overshadowed heavily by this scene coming in right after the highly important pre-fall!Crowley bit, meaning the viewer is still distracted by it as to disregard this small piece of info.

But. You know that rule 'if a gun appears on screen, it will at some point fire'? Shows don't tend to use their limited and very expensive screentime to throw in random stuff?

Might be just a joke thrown in by Neil to confuse us, in which case, hi sir, good job *waves*. However, if you look at all we know about Maggie from the demon-theory view, there's a few more bits a pieces that seem to fit?

Aziraphale's miracle does not work on her - the most obvious one. Honestly dismissed it on the first few rewatches as 'I guess it's just the gae girl power of Spirit', however. I guess an angel would not be able to miracle-hypnotize a demon either?

The record shop originally used to be 'in a corner of Aziraphale's bookshop.' - which would mean she has already been 'invited in' and can walk into the store, unlike all the other demons.

Not that sort of a teenager - maybe she is just a human who was never a party girl. Maybe she's a demon who had a completely different sort of childhood and teenagehood experience?

'I had brothers.' - maybe just a normal fam? or maybe other demons or angels could be the 'brothers' she is referring to?

'I've spent my life being scared of things, I'm done being scared.' - may be just a shy girl living an antsy life, scared of making a move on the girl she fancies? Or. Might be a demon, hiding on Earth all this time, trying to live a life away from Hell and Heaven and choosing sides, just like Crowley. Having had enough of living her life in fear, just wanting to be herself, express her love for her crush freely, not having to spend every second worrying someone might come get her, now finally ready to face the other demons?

Anyway. Might have just a crazy theory here. Might be something more. We'll see in s03, I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[stealingyourbones]

Submitted Prompts #144

*shakes a bag of bird skulls I found in the woodsI and places it on your desk like it's a bag of gold*

I had an idea:

What if the Fenton parents are, in fact very competent Hunters, but they love their children more than their work?

Say the first shot Maddie ever fired at Phanton actually lands, and the scream he makes sounds too much like Danny's voice, to a point even with any ghostly distortion, his own still recognizes the voice.

I can see her pulling Jack to the side, making a ruckus about how the "darn ghost got away just as her blaster ran out of juice". Mostly as a way to get Danny her darling son to leave and go somewhere safe, while his parents have a whole breakdown in the GAV about their dead son.

And so begins the stealthy studies on how Phantom's "human disguise" works, the Revelation of Horrible Truth, keeping tabs on Danny's growth and revising their whole attitude on Ghosts to account for the fact that Danny himself is, at least in some part, a Ghost himself, but all he's done is live his life (and be the little hero Mom always said he'd grow up to be).

Jazz stumbles across his secret and is immediately pulled aside to join the secret "Protect the Baby Ghost" family group chat.

"And what about all the times they shot at him in canon" I hear you ask?

They're damn good shots, but while Maddie can train herself to aim just so that the shot misses just enough it looks like Phantom dodged it, Jack has the Fenton Bazooka outfitted with a tracking HUD that purposely fails to hit everyone's favorite Ghost Boy.

Danny picks up on that, but not on the fact that They Know.

And so begins the single most convoluted training arc ever.

Next time Skulker's in town, Phantom has become untouchable. Not a single shot or electrified net reaches it's target.

(The electrified weapons in particular send the Fentons into a rage when Sam and Tucker finally can't keep hiding it, and come clean about what happened, since the Fentons have proven themselves to be trustworthy)

When Red Huntress comes about, and Valerie Grey becomes barely a distant acquaintance after having only just now started becoming more than a friend, and with the GIW sniffing about, Maddie and Jack pull Danny to sit between them and finally tell him they know, and they want to prove that they'll love him just as much as before, whether Human or Ghost.

Danny breaks down in the safety of his family's love, and takes some time off as Phantom to help his parents establish a proper line of communication with the Ancients, considering they've kinda adopted themselves into the roles of Aunts and Uncles towards their little Ghostling.

Which is a good thing, because in Phantom's absence the GIW make a giant spectacle of destroying several houses while chasing some blob ghosts. They're chased out of town by brick, stone and metal bat.

Next time Red Huntress actually manages to hurt Danny, the Fentons pack up and leave. The Portal can be transported somewhere else. It can be rebuilt.

Their baby boy can't be rebuilt, no matter how much he likes to be a little shit and ignore Reality to quote Shakespeare at his own head (thank you Mr Lancer, for not giving up on him) or "give them a hand".

As Fenton takes the last tour of Amity, Phantom disappears. The Protal has been left seemingly unguarded.

The Ghosts decide to have one last hurrah in Anity Park before Danny closes the Portal, as per their deal. They won't hurt anyone, just cause chaos, but in return Phantom won't stop them. It's not like poor Red has the energy to chase them down, now that she's been "upgraded" into Amity's sole defender (the one time Lancer compares her new lack of sleep to Danny's, horrifying pieces start lining up too well in her mind)

The Fentons move out. Into a quiet farm neighbouring the land that belongs to the delightful couple that are the Kents, and their darling son, little Clark, who stares at Danny mildly horrified whenever he comes by to babysit, or help out with fixing the stubborn tractor. One day under Danny's clever hands, and Jonathan Kent's eagle-eyed gaze, and that damned tractor has never worked so well before. The boy's alright in the old man's eyes, and he makes sure they kid knows it.

After quiet rooftop admissions of one small boy's growing powers (I know Adult Clark is a brick house of a man, but what if he was a little twig while young) and the reveal of Something More Than Human from his honorary older brother, the course of Time sets into it's best version, and an Old Clock smiles, as Superman rises, only to be scolded by Spectre for recklessness.

(Dunno how well it came across, but I'm envisioning Valerie's feelings towards Danny to go from bitter resignation because she " had to" push him away, to horrified despair when the truth starts falling into place. He's her "the one that got away". And it's not like she gave him much of a reason to trust her with his secrets.

Maybe older and wiser Red Huntress gets invited to the Justice League, and has to deal with not just Fenton, but also Phantom flirting with her, after a good long conversation on how dumb they both were as kids, and a mutual vow of "I think I can do better now, and I want to prove it to you")

[desi2go]

Moonlight

pairing: werewolf Minho x vampire reader

warnings: fluff

request: I think it would be so cute to have like Minho have the whole “I hate everyone but you” kinda vibe and the reader is just a social butterfly who talks to all mythical beings. Would love a cute fic on this (even better with a skz pack meeting vampire!reader)

author's note: Thank you for my first request! Loved writing it 🫶🏼 and I hope you enjoy it as well

Mystical creatures weren't something uncommon in your world. Since the beginning of time there were documents, statues and other thing that showed evidence that not only humans wandered around the earth. These creatures mostly hid and disguised as humans. The most common species were werewolves and vampires.

And you never thought that especially you would meet so many different creatures. Let alone, turn into one. You were born 1975 and lived a rather normal life. But suddenly that changed when you turned 23 years old. You were still in college and walked home after the last lesson for the day in the late afternoon to your small apartment.

It were only 300 metres from the campus to your home, the sun had already sunk, and yet you met a creature right in front of your front door. The person didn't even look human, the dark nearly hiding it's appearance completely.

But you heard the whimpers of a woman. She must have been forced into the corner and the creature towered over her.

"Hey! Let her go!" You exclaimed and drew the attention of the thing to you. The street light lighted the face and it was a man, a vampire. His blood stained lips crooked into a smile, showing his sharp fangs. "Who are you, little one? Do you wanna play the hero?" His voice was raspy and his yellow eyes never left your body.

He let the woman down, she tumbled but catched herself and ran away as quick as possible. "You look stunning, dear. You're too pretty to be a blood bar, right?" He purrs, with a great speed, his body crashed against yours, forcing you to fall backwards to the ground.

His fangs pierced your skin and a scream escaped you. He chuckled and retracted his fangs. "Sorry dear. Needed to taste you" then, he bit in his own wrist and pressed it against your lips, forcing you to open your mouth so that you could feel the cold metallic blood on your tongue. Unsuccessful, you tried pushing him away from you.

You felt a mingle there, where his fangs broke your skin and the pain eased away.

He then pulled his arm away, brushing the remaining blood from his wrist, the wound already closing. " Good night dear" he whispered into your ear and before you could process that, he grabbed your neck and everything faded to black.

⛧☯⛧

The following months were hard for you. Being a vampire was totally different from being human. When you woke up the day after that man gave you his blood, everything hurt in you, the sun made your skin itch and you quickly ran into your apartment since your skin was already lightly burned.

You had been shocked when you catched a glimpse on your bright yellow eyes in the mirror and some of your teeth were sharper than usual, forming your fangs.

The blood lust was a torture and you couldn't even be in the near of a human. But fortunately, you crossed path with a witch that teaches you how to control yourself whenever humans are near you. She helped you to learn how to hunt animals so that you don't need human blood. With that help, you could finally complete your college.

After your graduation, you packed your things and moved to the rim of the city. That way, you where near the witches home and could easily hunt animals due to the fields and the forest at your place. It was a small house that you bought from your savings but it felt like you could finally be yourself there.

Years passed. Well, 20 years to be exact. You still lived in that house. But you don't live alone anymore. Five years ago, you crossed path with a young witch, Arin, she was just 18 years old. You found her on the streets after her parents kicked her out because they were afraid by her magic.

The old witch that helped you a long time ago, told you how you could identify if a person is a mystical creature or a human so that as soon as you layed eyes on Arin, you knew that you needed to help her. Just like the old witch did.

You took her home and introduced her to the old woman. With her help she could finally understand how her powers worked.

Since then, you became a shelter for mystical creatures. And you loved to help them.

⛧☯⛧

The forest was quiet, no voice could be heard. The full moon stood high in the night sky and bathed the forest in a silvery light. A cold wind blew through the trees. You loved to hunt in the night. After all, you were a vampire. The old witch crafted a ring so that you could go into the sun but hunting was more fun in the depth of the night.

Soundless, you sneaked up to a rabbit. Then, a twig cracked and your pray ran away. You sighed and looked out for the source that made the sound. You guessed that your meal needs to wait.

It wasn't a deer or another animal. It was a werewolf. The moon lightened some strands of his black hair, making it slightly silver. With attentive eyes, he followed every motion.

"Hey, wolfie. What's your name?" You asked friendly, brushing your own hair out of your face. He doesn't answer you. "Okay. So, I'm Y/n" you introduced yourself.

"You're a vampire." He stated coldly. "Yeah, I am. And you're a wolf. I don't remember any packs that live here. Where you coming from?"

"We moved here recently" he just mentioned. His body language showed his cautions and the cold temperament that hid underneath his skin.

"That's great. I'm always open for new neighbours. I live here. So maybe you want to come around with your pack" you smiled at him.

"Sorry, not interested" he told you, leaning against a tree.

"Okay. Then, hopefully see you soon, wolfie" you exclaimed, walking away to search for your next pray.

"Don't call me wolfie!" He shouted annoyed. You chuckled, it was sweet how easily he was to tease. "Alright, then tell me your name!" You said over your shoulder.

"It's Minho." He exclaimed. "Well, then it was a pleasure to meet you, Minho" you loved how easily his name rolled off your tongue. With the speed of a vampire, you searched for another rabbit.

⛧☯⛧

At home, Arin was over the moon as soon as you told her about the werewolf. She was a helpless romantic and always dreamed of love that mostly happens in books or movies. She demanded you to go into the forest again and we'll, you needed to hunt anyways.

The moon lighted your way deeper into the woods. The more time you spend here, the clearer became your mind. You loved being here.

"Hello Y/n" the voice as yesterday said. You quickly turned around. It was indeed Minho. Like yesterday, he leaned onto a tree but now with a more relaxed posture.

"Nice to see you, Minho. What ya doing here?"

"Enjoying the night. And you?" His eyes sparkled under the calming light of the moon.

"Hunting"

"Aren't you drinking blood?" He asks. "Yeah but I just drink from animals. Like rabbits and other creatures that live in the woods" you explained.

"So you're not drinking from humans?" You chuckled. "No. And in addition, I take the dead animals home so that my friends can have something to eat too"

"Are they also vampires?"

"Sometimes. Like I said yesterday, my door is always open for creatures that need shelter. And sometimes I live together with werewolves, vampires or witches"

"That's crazy." He muttered. You laughed, giving him a toothless smile. "Yup, but I like it that way."

You noticed how comfortable he was slowly getting as the conversation progressed further.

The following days, you met Minho often in the woods. He still held some distance but he grew more open and outgoing as the time went along. You couldn't deny that he was sweet and funny. And you enjoyed spending time with him.

Sometimes, you could even lure out a small smile so that his lips formed a toothy smile and a rosy tone was covering his cheeks.

As the time went on, you couldn't help but fall for the wolf. Both your personalities were totally different. He was the night, somewhat cold but at the same time caring from far away, and you were the sun, warm and friendly, even to strangers. But undeniably, you complimented each other. Just like Ying and Yang.

It was once again another meeting with him and you found him on the exact same place as always, the place where you had met for the first time.

"Hello Y/n" he welcomed, walking towards you. "Hello Minho" you smiled at him. Just like the other times, you both strolled through the woods, talking about everything and nothing, or just enjoyed each others company in a peaceful silence.

You told him about the young boy who stood at your porch this morning, a little vampire who just got turned. Of course you offered help to him. As you talked about the little guy, you walked over some big roots on the earth.

However, something that didn't disappear while being a vampire, was your clumsiness, especially when you don't concentrate on your environment.

Just like now, you didn't see a root and tripped over it. You yelped and grabbed anything to stop you from falling. Well, the nearest thing was Minho's shirt. But you didn't expect him to loose balance as well. Together, you crashed to the ground, him over you.

Quickly, he held himself up with his forearms to get his weight off your chest. "Are you okay?" He asked, worry showing clearly on his face. "Yeah" you whispered. His warm body heated your cold one.

Your eyes wandered over his face, searching for any hints of pain. You were met just with the prettiest eyes you have ever seen. They were black in the low light of the moon, still his soul and passion lightened it. Slowly, he changed his position to take some weight off his arms. One hand crept up your waist and your side. Then, it reached your neck and finally his warm hand caressed your cheek.

"You're beautiful" he mumbled, his hot breath hitting your neck.

His fingers brushed over the soft skin if your cheek when he lowered himself some more, his eyes jumping up and down from your eyes to your lips. Then, he overcame the last few centimeters and his lips crashed against yours. At first slowly and cautious but more and more passionate. You closed your eyes and just concentrated on the feeling of his pillowy lips and his scent.

⛧☯⛧

"Are you sure, you wanna meet the pack? We can still go home" Minho asked for the hundredth time. His hand held yours, caressing his thumb over yours.

"Of course it want to meet them! They're you're family" you exclaimed. Your first kiss was five weeks ago and you were over the moon when he suggested that you could meet his pack. The first thing that he did was warning you. His family was chaotic, he had said.

He brought you to a house at the other side of the forest and it was so much bigger than your tiny home. Minho opened the front door and entered, you followed him slowly.

"Guys, I'm home!" He shouted and lead you into the living room.

"Hey Min!" A brown haired boy with round cheeks exclaimed. Then, he noticed you. "Who is that?"

"Jisung, that's Y/n. My girlfriend" Minho introduced you, his fingers drawing circles on your lower back. "Since when did you have a girlfriend?" Another wolf with blonde dyed hair asked who just came through one of the doors.

"You are capable of finding a girlfriend?" A man with brown hair asked with a teasing smirk. He seemed much younger than Minho who just rolled his eyes.

Then, a wolf with curly hair came towards you with a friendly smile. "Seungmin don't be so sassy! Anyways, nice to meet ya! I'm Chan." He said.

So the younger wolf must be Seungmin. "It's nice to meet you too!" You answered.

"I'm Felix and that's Changbin and Hyunjin!" The boy with the blond hair stated and pointed to two other persons. "I'm excited to finally meet you all. I'm Y/n!" You introduced yourself as well. They seemed to don't mind that you were a vampire and not a human or a werewolf.

"I never thought that that old guy could find someone who was possible of loving him" Seungmin mentioned teasingly. Minho pressed a short kiss against your cheek. "Alright that's enough. I'll be right back, love. I just need to murder Seungmin" he grumbled and chased after the younger one.

You laughed as you watched the chasing. Chan sighed and sat beside you on the sofa. " I hope Min warned you that we are chaotic when we are ourselves" he said. You chuckled. "Yeah, he mentioned that" and you already loved that bunch of people.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Curious on how the Pleiades interact with Flower of Nazarick Mc.

I've already done Entoma and Solution but here are the others! 🖤🖤🖤

Flower of Nazarick Reader with Pleiades | Yandere Overlord

Sebas Tian

“Master (Y/n)!”

“Oh hi Sebas…I seem to be in a predicament.”

“Master…how did you get yourself trapped in the wall?”

 I figured out I could phase through things but then I somehow just stopped…But I’ll get out eventually! I'll just be here for a while.”

“I see. Would you like anything while you wait?”

“Hmm, can I get a–”

He finds you oh-so-precious 

He just so happens to witness some of your weirdest and vulnerable moments

Internally he’s the happiest dragon butler there can be 

He absolutely lives for the times you first discover different parts of Nazarick

When you aren’t training or being babysat by Albedo you’ll be doing your own thing

Sometimes monitored by him and the Pleiades

And the way he’s bared witness to your general silliness is a blessing to him

As much as he’ll preach to Yuri about their job to ‘raise’ you right he too will sway with a bat of your eyes

Yuri Alpha

“Come Master (Y/n). Lord Ainz summons you.”

“So early? Can’t he just wait a few more hours….”

“He’s already been waiting Master (Y/n). Please wake up”

“..”

“...Master. Master? I apologize in advance.”

"Blagh!!!"

Because the floor guardians tend to spoil you to bits no one’s all too keen on actually making you do anything

But with Ainz’s permission, she takes it upon herself to be some kind of disciplinarian

…a disciplinarian whose authority sways with her admiration

She’s well aware that you are a Supreme being in training 

So she regales you with tales of the supreme beings who ran Nazarick in hopes of inspiring your greatness

Any kind of decision or even a break in your casual tone with the Pleiades she’s swooning with a blush

She can’t believe her Nazarick’s flower is growing well and will one day be fit to rule alongside Ainz

She will personally take over anyone she deems too forward with you

Whether in disguise or not you happen to be way too flippant about your importance to Nazarick

So until you take the proper discretion to threaten those who disrespect you she’ll do it in the meantime 

With extreme prejudice

Lupisregina Beta

“Ah! Master I’ve never tasted something so wonderful!”

“Gee, thanks it’s a favorite of mine back where I’m from!”

“Hmmm~Learning about my Supreme Flower is the best!”

“Ah haha, LP make sure to chew your food before you speak.”

“Ack-! A nickname I’m dying!”

One of the most fun Pleiades to hang out with 

Unless given specific instructions she’s all about fun

And she adores how you just want to have fun with her too

That often doesn’t mean being in Nazarick which means you’ll be going a little outside their perimeter

That’s where you’ll probably get to see just how little Lupusregina cares for anyone who is not you

You’ll have to stop her from turning invisible to silently slash away anyone who could take your time from her

She’s not good at filling in the blanks so you’ll have to be very specific

Otherwise, you might just find any place you visit to be a graveyard

Narberal Gamma

“Psst Nabarel…you’re scaring everyone away. I’m supposed to blend in.”

“My apologies Master. It’s just these dirty humans dare look at you so casually I feel inclined to–”

“Nabarel.”

“Right sorry.”

This whole pretending to hide among the humans thing has gotten on her nerves

To see Ainz be treated so flippantly by worthless beings no less

It doesn’t help when the prized Flower of Nazarick occasionally does the same thing

And while she might have the restraint to behave around Ainz

She slips a lot more around you

Glaring more openly at anyone who even looks at you

She won’t even let anyone put a friendly hand on your back

She’s breaking bones if they get too close

But if you bat your eyes and smile sweetly she’ll snap it back

She won’t apologize though

Not for hurting them or endangering their life

Disguise or not she refuses to accept lower-life forms even getting within your vicinity

But she can’t deny the pride and excitement when you allow her to wait on you

Taking a break from her stupid disguise to return to serving you makes it a little bit better

Though she much prefers you stay within Nazarick

CZ2128 Delta

“Master (Y/n).”

“Yes, Delta?” 

“May I hold you?”

“Uh, sure?”

“Thank you, Master!”

She thinks you’re so so so so so so cute

She thinks she might short-circuit from cuteness

In her mind, you rival Eclair Eklair Eklare (The penguin Janitor)

If you give her permission to hold you she may never want to let go

But if it bothers you

She’ll settle by resting her head on your lap

Or holding onto any part of your person

She’s not as violent as the other Pleiades when it comes to protecting you but that doesn’t mean she won’t hurt anyone for you

If any creature divides her attention from you she’ll smite them quickly

And then try to get praise from you

[moog-rt]

GO TO HELL [ch. 3]

[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Chapter Two

➨ Chapter Three

Next: Chapter Four

Premise:

You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.

Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.

Warning(s): sudden popularity, mistakes were made (by you not me <3)

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER THREE

Well.

You finally made it on TV. Fame and fortune were nearly yours for the taking. People would be lining up outside for your autograph and maybe even just the chance to catch a glimpse of you.

The ‘Human in Hell.’

That was the headline the news broadcasters decided on. It was slapped on top of a clip of you hauling ass through the rancid streets of Hell. You were clearly panic stricken and fearing for your life, but why would the announcers care about that?.

A darn shame it was being aired live across all of Hell. Your dignity was the price you would pay for fame amongst the worst people to walk the Earth.

You were curled into yourself on the couch, unable to peel your eyes away from the screen. Vaggie was pacing behind it, muttering out profanities you didn’t know existed. And Charlie? She was doing her best to calm the both of you down. Bless her heart.

The reason you had to end your little escapade to the Morningstar Manor early was because Vaggie texted saying she had bad news. You thought perhaps her recruiting backfired or there could have been a fire in the hotel that she couldn’t put out.

You did not expect to be called back because the entirety of Hell now had you on their radar. This complicated things quite a bit as one might imagine. It was much easier to hide as a human when only a handful of people knew about you. Now, everyone’s eyes were peeled in hope of finding you.

“Look, she’s all-over social media, too,” Vaggie groaned, showing her phone screen to the two of you. She began to read off some of the posts, “Vox and Katy Killjoy are promising viewers an interview with her…There’s already bidding wars for Christ’s sake!”

“Let’s not worry too much about this…As long as we make sure she’s in her disguise when we’re out, it’ll all be okay,” Charlie said.

“They caught her on video. What if they tracked her to the hotel? They could show up any second looking for her!”

It was touching she cared so much about your well-being in this situation, but the goal was to have you back home as soon as possible. Once you were out of Hell, none of this would be a problem. You doubted demons would pass into the living world just to come after you. At that point, there was an endless number of humans to choose from.

“I don’t know…They probably would have already shown up if they knew she was here,” Charlie reasoned, and Vaggie’s pacing began to slow.

“I was able to get away from all the demons that were after me by the time I found the hotel,” you added. “No one should have been around to see me come in.”

Charlie was finally able to get Vaggie to sit, and a tense silence enveloped the three of you. Charlie was rubbing Vaggie’s arms soothingly, so you took it upon yourself to turn off the tv. There was no point in listening to it anymore. All it did was stress everyone out, and there was nothing you could really do about it. Your current plan of action remained the best.

“So how was your day, Vaggie?” you asked in hopes of breaching a more positive topic.

“Oh, right! Did you find anybody who would be interested in staying with us?” Charlie chimed in with a bright grin.

The poor girl sighed in response.

“There was one person who was interested in what we’re offering,” she began, “but he seemed more enticed by free rent than redemption…”

“That’s okay. Maybe if he spends a little time with us, the idea of redemption will start to grow on him!” Charlie sounded like she was also trying to convince herself.

“I guess…” Vaggie grumbled. “He said he might drop by tomorrow or the day after to check things out. Would that work for you guys?”

“Oh, my gosh. That would be great!” Charlie squealed, jumping up from the floor. “We have to head back to my dad’s in the morning, but any time after that would be perfect.”

“No luck today?”

“Not really,” you sighed. “We were able to look around a little bit but we ended up running into her old man.”

“And he tried interrogating her,” Charlie groaned, running her hands through her hair as the memory resurfaced. “I was so worried he would suspect something, but your emergency text totally saved us.”

“Did the disguise work at least?”

That was an excellent question. While he didn’t seem to question anything about your appearance, he still seemed suspicious. It was entirely possible he could smell your fear. You’d expect no less from a demon; they probably fed off of it. Who knows…

You should be nicer. Charlie and Vaggie certainly hadn’t given you that impression. In fact, you were pretty sure you saw one of them eating toast for breakfast. They likely had perfectly normal digestive systems.

“I think so! We’re just gonna have to make a good cover story in case he finds us again.”

The three of you began to brainstorm, losing track of time as it faded into playful conversation. There was an intermission to order food since their ‘kitchen’ still wasn’t quite ready to be used to such an extent. And eventually, you parted ways to get ready for bed.

Your arms were full after they had given you a towel and a plethora of toiletries to help scrub all the paint off of your body. When you entered your room, you were also greeted by your ‘human’ clothes, clean and neatly folded on top of your bed.

And laying on top of those was your phone.

Holy shit. You had completely forgotten you had it on you before your ass was ripped through that portal. Of course, the adrenaline rush that immediately followed your arrival in Hell didn’t help. And you were so eager to get those nasty, garbage covered clothes off, you hadn’t noticed the weight in your back pocket.

You dumped all the toiletries onto your bed to grab it.

The home screen was piled with notifications ranging from worried texts to company newsletter alerts. You began thumbing in your password to rifle through it all… but then you noticed your hand.

The paint was rubbed away.

On your fingers and wrists. There were splotches where paint was gone, revealing your natural skin underneath.

When did this happen?

Your palms were almost completely barren, likely from everything you had touched throughout the day. On the back of your hands and around your wrists, there were smaller spots where your skin was peeking through.

Like fingerprints.

You felt like you were delt a sucker punch to the gut.

Maybe…Maybe it was from your own hand. You could have been rubbing at your own wrists subconsciously. With all the stress-inducing shit going down, that wouldn’t be unlikely.

But if the paint could come off so easily…

No. You had to believe it was your own doing.

Regardless, you had to find a way to prevent it from happening again.

You opted to wait until the morning to break the bad news to Charlie and Vaggie. The two had just gone off to bed, and honestly, your nerves were getting the better of you. Your stomach was twisting in on itself as your heart pounded relentlessly against your ribs.

You would tell them. You would.

Just not right now.

More than anything, you wanted that dried up paint off of you.

Tossing your phone aside and grabbing your bathing supplies, you scrambled into the bathroom to throw the shower on. The feeling of peeling those clothes off and clambering in to let the hot water rush over your sticky body was ethereal. It was so satisfying to watch the unnatural pigment run off your skin, erasing any evidence that it may have transferred onto that man’s hands.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, hoping it would wash away your worries, as well.

Finding the will to get out of the shower was difficult. But your body was tired, as well as your mind.

Flicking the lights off, you tumbled into bed, content with its softness in that moment as the mattress and pillows consumed you entirely. You were more than ready to knock out and forget about all that had happened over the past couple of days.

You didn’t want to think about the fact you were likely being hunted by god knows how many hell-goers. You didn’t want to think about the impact the time you spent here would leave on your life in the living world. Your job, your relationships (thankfully you didn’t have a pet). More than anything, you didn’t want to think about the possibility you may never get home at all.

With a deep sigh, you rolled onto your side and felt something hard beneath your hip. You groaned as you reached down to remove it, finding the phone that you had carelessly tossed aside. It made your heart swell.

You wanted your friends. You wanted to read their texts, new and old. Hell, you wanted to see any memes or posts they may have sent you. Any semblance of normality was all you needed right now. You would take whatever you could get.

Slowly, you reached over and grabbed it. Its brightness hadn’t yet adjusted, and you squinted as you flash banged yourself.

Opening your messages, you saw Devon at the top. They said that they hoped you could see their message, that you were somehow okay.

That depends on what you consider to be ‘okay’.

Beneath them was that boy, Jack. He sounded upset. He probably thought you were ignoring his texts out of spite. His messages were a mixture of asking what was wrong and saying you were overreacting over whatever it was he had done.

You couldn’t recall him doing anything to upset you recently, so it seemed there were things you had yet to find out about. What a pain.

Your other friends that you were supposed to spend time with today were expressing their concern for your absence.

Are you coming?

Where are you?

Is everything okay?

Please respond.

It made your heart ache. You needed to let them know you were at least alive.

As soon as you started writing a message of your own, the text began to buzz. The overhead light and lamps in your room began to strobe, and pixels of red flashed across your screen as a horrible humming emanated from the phone. It sounded as if the room was filled with a swarm of bees. It was deafening.

Then you noticed those shackles.

Those red, glowing shackles that dragged you here were flickering around your wrists once more. You sat straight up, ready for them to pull you somewhere new, but then the room went dark and the noise was gone.

You could still feel the sheets beneath your knees, and when you turned on the lamp beside your bed, the room looked untouched. At the very least, you knew you hadn’t been thrown through another portal.

There was no sign that anything had happened at all.

♡

Your phone would not turn on again after that whole…event…from the night before. At most, it would crackle at you, but the screen remained black. It was possible it just died from low battery, but you weren’t paying attention to that. You wondered what the odds were that Charlie would have a compatible charger.

You could ask her about it later.

The two of you were back on the grind to find a way to access the living world. Once again, Vaggie had to hang back. They decided it would be best for someone to make the hotel slightly more presentable in case the potential patron decided to stop by that evening. A good call, in your opinion.

Beggars can’t be choosers, but their place didn’t seem particularly livable from the outside. Hence, why you thought it would be a good spot to hunker down to begin with.

You and Charlie had slipped into her dad’s place again, this time undetected. After checking out the room of relics once more and without any interruptions, you found nothing that seemed to be of use (from what you could tell, shit was written in ancient tongue).

Your next stop was library where you decided to split up in order to cover more ground.

Now, you wandered aimlessly through the towering shelves of books, unsure of where to start. Having no clue how it was all organized, you settled on the tactic of picking out books at random and letting your luck guide you.

It wasn’t going so well.

You were able to find only one or two books pertaining to the ‘mortal’ world, but neither had anything to do with accessing it. They more so covered history of civilization and travel guides once you were there.

Pulling out another book that looked to be promising, you sighed as that, too, ended up being a dud. Half an hour had easily passed since you began your search, and you were growing despondent.

You wanted to believe that there was some way to get back. Charlie and Vaggie had said so themselves. But if Charlie’s old home was your best shot, you didn’t like your odds looking anywhere else.

No matter how much you tried to stay optimistic, you couldn’t help but dwell on the possibility of being truly stuck here. Finding a way out was starting to feel like finding a needle in a haystack, especially now that you were rummaging through a library that easily held thousands of books.

You hated the thought of not being able to see your friends again. Your family. Stuck in a world where there was a target on your back for simply existing in it.

Your energy was beginning to dwindle. You were slowing down, and your heart felt so heavy.

And you hated it.

You hated the way your vision was beginning to blur and how your sunglasses were fogging up as your face grew warmer.

Your sleeve wiped away the first tear that threatened to slip past, but you were too slow for the second. It left a wet streak down your cheek before you were able to dab it away. You wanted to be careful of your makeup.

When Charlie was getting you ready earlier, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her about the paint missing from your hands. You wanted to, but every time you thought you found the courage to say it, your throat grew tight, choking you into silence.

The most you could do was suggest a setting spray or powder to make sure it really stayed put. You told her you were just worried about the possibility of it coming off. Even if you couldn’t pull the truth from your own mouth, you wanted to take whatever precautions you could.

Your precautions, it seemed, were still not enough as the paint transferred onto your sleeve. Leave it to tears to ruin a girl’s makeup. You need to find someplace with a reflection to see if you could cover it up somehow.

As if on cue, you heard Charlie walking into your aisle. You felt relieved as she could probably blend the new smudges you’d created before anyone could see them.

“Hey, sorry but do you think you could help me out real quick?” you ask as you turned to her with your hand covering your cheek.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as you were greeted not by the sight of your newest friend but her father instead.

His hands were propped up on his staff, and his eyebrows were raised nearly to his hairline. He had a smug smile on his face to compliment it. Like he had caught you in the act.

There was nothing suspicious about looking at books in a library, though. Was there?

Adjusting your sunglasses so they were back in place, you put on the most charming smile you could conjure.

‘Hi—Good morning, Mr. Morningstar!”

“Hello, again,” he hummed, tilting his head as he watched you. “I didn’t think I would be seeing you again so soon.”

“Right, uh…Well, we had to leave in such a hurry yesterday. Charlie wasn’t able to find what she came for, so we’re back!” You lifted your shoulders to appear more excited than you were. At least you weren’t lying.

His finger started tapping on his apple.

“It’s quite interesting she didn’t think to give me any heads up. Almost like she’s trying to hide something…” He looked down at the book you were still holding for a moment then back at you.

Your heartrate spiked.

“What is it you’re looking for exactly?” He walked up next to you and made an act of looking through some of the books on the shelves you had just gone through.

“Huh? Oh, I’m not completely sure what Charlie needs, but she said I was welcome to look around in here,” you said, holding the book closer to your chest in hopes of hiding its title. “But I understand it’s your library, so if you’d prefer I not be in here, I’ll leave.”

He paused. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and pressed the apple of his staff to his lips.

“Look,” he began, turning back around to face you, “you said you were relatively new here, correct?”

You nodded, unsure of where this was going.

“I don’t know how it happened, but I can imagine the change was sudden, and it can be pretty hard to accept,” he said as he made a gesture with his hand. “I don’t blame you for seeking out ways to feel like you’re still in touch with your life before.”

You looked away, tight lipped.

It was hard, but you didn’t want to have to accept it. You weren’t dead. Not yet. Which meant returning to your life before was still an option for you.

“I’m very grateful to have met your daughter,” you said, shaking your head and looking back at him.

His eyes were trained on you, and it no longer felt as if he was trying to look through you or figure out your intentions. Rather, he was looking at you.

“It all would’ve been much worse for me if I hadn’t,” you continued. “She’s given me a safe place to stay and has been trying to help me in any way she can, and I feel very lucky for that.”

You looked back at him with a soft smile. Soft but genuine. Meeting Charlie and Vaggie was the only bout of good luck you’d had since being sent to Hell.

A smile grew on his face in return, and for once, you didn’t feel threatened by it.

“That makes me happy to hear,” he said. “She’s always been much too kind for a place like this.”

“I suppose so,” you chuckled. “I think that just means you did a pretty good job raising her.”

“Aha…I hope so…” he glanced away, sharp teeth beginning to peek through his lips. He then reached a hand out towards you. “May I see that book?”

Hesitating for a moment, you passed it to him. He read over the title before looking up at the endless shelves.

“Come with me,” he said, walking down the aisle.

You followed him in silence. As he turned the corner, you passed a large arched window that allowed red light to stream through. It illuminated the few specs of dust in the air, and when he walked through it, it turned his hair and skin a blush pink.

As you passed under the light, it felt as though all your prior nervousness washed away.

Yesterday, you wanted nothing more than to be as far from this man as possible.

Now, you felt at ease as he guided you through his labyrinth of a library.

He began pulling books from the shelves here and there, handing them off to you. When you looked them over, you realized they were all pertaining to the living world. You knew better than to hope he’d give you one that held the key to getting home…but what if?

You chatted with him a bit about Charlie and her hotel as you went on through the aisles. You were a little surprised by how much he didn’t know about her plans.

After a few minutes, your arms were filled with a stack almost up to your chin.

“That should do it!” he announced, turning to you with a wide grin as he brushed the dust from his hands. His eyes lingered on your face.

“Thank you so much! This is really kind of you,” you said politely. “I’ll be sure to give them back when I’m—uh…done with them!”

“No rush at all. I’ll be sure to stop by soon to see what all my dear daughter has been up to,” he said with a smirk.

You said your goodbyes and watched as he walked away. The smile adorning your face was subconscious, and your chest felt full and warm.

The weight of all the books was making your arms tired. You had yet to look at what he pulled out for you, but you could wait until you were back at the hotel to rifle through them. You probably wouldn’t be able to find anything better than what he had given you, so you decided to meet back up with Charlie.

She found some things that looked promising, as well. You figured she would have told you more about them if her eyes hadn’t landed on your cheek. The cheek that was out on display for the whole world to see as both your arms were full of the books her father had pulled out for you.

Next Chapter

♡ ♡ ♡

tag list: @spookysisters @for-hearthand-home @crescent-z @mixplara @juskonutoh @tinywolfiegirl @lafy-taffy @glowinthedarkbones1150

[stari-hun]

Arcanists Masking

A list of arcanists in the game sorted into categories of how much they mask as human/follow human etiquette in society.

Blatantly Inhuman

37 - If you told someone in the Foundation that she was an alien like Voyager they’d believe you

Avgust - Same situation as 37, acts like they’ve never been on earth

Baby Blue - The vibe is wandering spirit over human

Balloon Party

Dikke

Druvis iii

Eternity - Nice try ethereal entity, we can tell

Getian

Isolde - Famous arcanist and stopped masking as a human outside of shows. The world is her stage now

Kaalaa Baunaa - Nice try ethereal entity, we can tell

Jessica - Tried masking out for a while, didn’t work

La Source

Ulu

Vila

Voyager - Visibly masks but you can tell cause the vibes are off

Windsong

People Assume they’re an Arcanist

An-an Lee - If you assume she’s human and not an arcanist that’s on you kinda attitude

Centurion - Acting like she wasn’t an arcanist wouldn’t do well for her job + she’s proud of it

Diggers - He could but he’s not trying to hide it

Leilani - No effort in hiding it

Lilya - Brags about her arcanum a lot

Marcus - Actively bad at masking

Matilda - Makes conscious effort to present as an Arcanist

Medicine Pocket - Reject masking, accept ur own feral nature

Mondlict - Reject masking, accept ur own feral nature

Ms NewBabel - Makes conscious effort to present as an Arcanist

Necrologist - Not trying to mask

Nick Bottom

Oliver Fog - Not trying to mask + would tell someone he is so they go away faster

ONiON

Pavia - Brags about his arcanum to much to mask

Pickles

Poltergeist

Rabies

Regulus - Proud of being an arcanist but will rarely mask for her own benefit

Satsuki

Shamane

Sotheby - Has never in her life masked

Spathodea- Proud of being an arcanist + she’s a celebrity now

The Fool

Tooth Fairy - Nice try ethereal entity, we can tell

Twins sleep - Never in their lives have they masked

Zima

X - Makes no effort to mask

Yenisei - Makes no effort to mask

Failed at Acting Human

Charlie - She’s in a known arcanist group + an Arcanist celebrity, if she was in a disguise though she’d be fine

Click - He probably acted human to get around when he was alive

Erick - At first sight you’d think she’s human but she’s very proud that she’s an arcanist

Jiu - Successfully masked as human for a long time before failing so badly she swore off it

John Titor - Second you hear em talk

Kakania - You can kinda tell on looks and she isn’t hiding it anyways

Kanjira - Can probably mask as a human to strangers for a while but quickly slips up

TTT - If you didn’t see her you’d think she’s just a girl

Acts Human

6 - Just a guy

Bette - Acting is their whole job

Blonney - She’s accepted she’s an arcanist but it’s habit

Bkornblume - Generally wouldn't tell strangers anything + acts innocuous in public

Bunny Bunny - Customer service persona

Cristallo

Desert Flannel - She used to be a celebrity but not many people recognize her anymore + she can’t hustle as well if she was a known Arcanist

Eagle

Horropedia - Proud of being an arcanist but if it didn’t come up you wouldn’t know

Melania - Makes a conscious effort to mask as human in public

Mesmer Jr - Outside of work she actively dislikes being an arcanist

Ms Moissan - Proud of being an arcanist but if it didn’t come up you wouldn’t know

Sonetto - She’s the Foundation’s pride for her masking but one of these days she’s gonna lose it

Sweetheart - Acting is her whole job

Tennant - Regularly masks with success to her benefit

Object Class

A Knight - If it weren’t for his appearance ppl would know he’s just a jolly ghost

aliEn T - Also an appearance based loss

APPle - Same thing

Door - Visibly nonhuman with a nonhuman personality

Ms Radio - Visibly nonhuman with a nonhuman personality

Sputnik

Ezra

Ezra

[bethelighthalazia]

Chapter 1 - A journey´s beginning

Summary:  Y/n witnesses a fight on the village´s market and things start to get stirred up in her life. Who are these strangers and why does she feel that something about them will decide her fate?

Genre: adventure, fluff

Pairing:  ?? x fem!half-siren!reader

Additional Characters: ATEEZ, Stray Kids

Word Count:  2014

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of weapons, fighting

Networks: @mirohs-aurora-society

Notes: There might be an explanation ‘chapter’ for some things, only if you all want/need it. As for now, ‘mother rain’ is just a name that y/n has given her parent. The being itself does use any pronouns, but is feminine appearance wise, which is why y/n calls them mother.

additional links: << PrevCh Masterpost Next Ch >>

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

“When the red moon rises, And paints the land in its fiery shade. A child shall be born to land and sea, Its’ heart's voice with the power to unite. The path will be torn,  But a heart's melody will lead. Clawed embraces like a thorn, The one eyed’s Illusion offers a home. When the child gains powers,  Land and sea their witness and friend. Deep ocean's bell calling home all sirens, To gather under one heart's voice. A new queen will be raised to her throne,  Her call heard far and near. Friends won't shy, fighting for her to rise, When blood is against her, seeking demise.”

It had been eons since the last red moon hung in the night sky, so the excitement rose high when the birth of y/n fell on the day of this very rare lunar event. Highly anticipated amongst the sirens of this clan, since the child born on this day would become the ruler of their entire species, even though y/n was only the outcome of her mother being bedded by a human pirate. Excitement was replaced with disappointment the moment y/n took the first breath of air and water, because even though she looked as if screaming from the depths of her lungs, no sound was heard. The girl was born without a voice. How could this thing become their queen one day? This had to be kept a secret, the child disposed of very quickly. So, in the dead of night, one chosen of the clan's warriors was sent to bring the child to the highest mountain of the nearest island, so it would not be able to touch the sea and soon starve and dry out. 

Fate had different plans for this half siren though, and even if left for its death, the child survived thirteen days without food or water before she was found by none other than the soul of the sea itself. Disguised as a human being, they took her in and raised y/n, naming her after a mythical remedy that had long been forgotten. The child's youth was filled with warmth, wonders and love, protected and sheltered by the incarnation of the sea itself, yet living in a small hut on land.

Years went by and the little rainbow scaled half-siren rose into a beautiful young woman, her white hair shimmering in all the colors of the light when swimming in the water. While growing older, she learnt to hide her scales from human eyes, so she could walk through the nearby village, sirens have always been feared and often hunted. Every time she'd leave home to visit the market, y/n had been told to be careful. “Remember, my child. The wolves control these lands, do not cross the crescent moon pack.” The sea always told her and, once again, the young woman nodded with a smile. Y/n had heard these words often enough that they have carved itself into her mind by now. The basket for goods from the market in hand, her flute and a bag with some coin attached to her belt, the young half siren walked over to her parent, kissing their forehead.

‘Do not worry, mother rain. I will not stray from my path. My friend will accompany me again.’ Y/n communicates, using her hands and a language without words for this. Not many people understand her, nor do they want to, most of them call her way of communicating a work of magic and don't want anything to do with it. At the name y/n had given them, the sea let out a melodic laugh, shaking his head. “You have yet to explain to me why you call me that, my little tadpole,” they hum, cupping the girl's cheek for a moment before sending her off to the market. 

Why does y/n call them mother rain? She doesn't quite know herself. Mother, because they always have been there for her as far as she could remember. They're her mother, it's that easy. Rain, because - well, why? Walking down the dirt path to the village, y/n kept thinking about an explanation and before entering the market, she found it. The falling rain always has been soothing for y/n, the feeling on her scales, the sound it makes when hitting the ground, it just made her feel safe and calm. Mother rain had the same effect for the young woman. And she never learned her parent’s real name, nor is she aware that they are the sea itself.

“Y/n! Over here,” a familiar voice called out when y/n neared the village, drawing her attention to the young male, who's crouched on a boulder. His ashen brown hair falling into his face didn't hide a new scar under his eye. Her eyes wide and brows furrowed in worry, y/n pointed at the scar when she came closer, causing the young man to chuckle. “This? Oh, it's fine, don't worry.” He hummed, jumped off the boulder and stepped closer to y/n, so she could inspect the scar. “Wolves do cry sometimes. I just had to be reminded of it.” Now that y/n was able to see it up close, the scar reminded her of tears trailing down the man's face, causing her to huff out some air. “Don't be upset, please. It didn't hurt…well, not badly at least-” His words drew another huff from y/n, who shook her head. Her best friend often misjudged the gravity of some of his actions, so he got into trouble a lot and therefore got punished by - well, she's not sure by whom. Although, now that she thought about it - he usually referred to himself as one of the wolves. Y/n always downplayed this as him joking around, but what if he really is one of the feared pack controlling these lands?

A tap on her nose pulled her out of her thoughts, causing her to look up at the face of her friend. Jeongin never judged her, nor did he ever harm her or get her into dangerous situations, so why should she judge him? Even if he was one of the pack, she would never want to lose him as her best friend, one of the only people in this village who liked her and talked to her. “Did Rain send you to the market again?” The young man asked, gesturing towards the empty basket and when y/n nodded, he took her hand to walk with her to the village. Jeongin never cared or minded that she was mute, he didn't need to hear her talk to understand her. Being dragged after the young male, y/n gave a silent chuckle, but then stopped, holding Jeongin back from walking further. She could sense something familiar, something that sent a shudder down her spine; she felt the presence of another siren. 

“Huh? What's wrong, y/n? Are you not feeling well? I can bring you back to Rain, if you like-” Jeongin stopped, his head snapped towards the market, because sudden shouting and other noises came from there. Both of them looked at each other before the young male started running towards the commotion, y/n stumbling after her best friend. It only took them a few moments to reach the market and both could see what caused the noises. People hurriedly put away their wares and tried to get their market stands out of the way, while others were standing around the entry to the tavern.

Eyes wide, y/n let go of Jeongin's hand when the young male hurried towards the commotion to talk to one of the people around. The young half siren also stepped forward, freezing in place when she saw what's happening. A young man with dark hair and one eye covered by a bandage was fighting with someone else. 

“Hyung! What happened?” y/n could hear Jeongin's voice and she walked over to him, grasping the young man's arm with a frightened expression. “Jisung, why is your mate fighting that man?” The one Jeongin spoke to was trembling slightly, looking worried to the fighting people before turning to the younger male. “This man shoved me, I- I accidentally bumped into that man's friend-” Y/n could sense that the man Jeongin called Jisung was nervous, maybe even scared, so she put a hand on his arm gently, trying to calm him down.

A collective gasp drew the young woman's attention, her hands going up to her mouth when she saw what happened to cause this. The black haired one, who was wearing the same clothes like Jisung, had managed to cut, or rather claw, the other's chest. However, the other didn't seem to give up, despite the begging of his friend, a white haired male. “Hongjoong, please! Stop it, or this wolf will kill you!” The man pleaded, causing y/n to freeze, her eyes widened in realization. That white haired person was the siren she sensed, another half siren! 

“Minho, stop!” Another man walked onto the marketplace, but he didn't seem in a hurry. He looked intimidating, a scar across his face and the fur vest not covering much of his torso, which also was scattered with old and some seemingly newer scars. His voice actually made the fighting male stop, it had something like an echo to it, as if he wasn't the only one speaking, yet no one else had opened his mouth. What seemed off to her, was that Jeongin and Jisung also cowered at this voice. “Chan, he attacked Ji-” “Stop! We do not start fights with guests of the village, Minho!” The man, Chan, hushed the other quickly, none of them noticing the movement from the one eyed one called Hongjoong.

Y/n did notice though and before he could attack the others again, she rushed between them, stomping on the ground hard once, which sent a little shockwave of water across the area, a faint ring of a bell sounding through the water. This not only calmed the people in the area, but also revealed the rainbow scales on her legs for a split second. Despite that, Jeongin and his friends, as well as the white-haired one and Hongjoong saw it before y/n was able to hide them from view. “Seonghwa, she’s-” Hongjoong gasped and looked at his friend, the white haired guy, but the friend just shook his head. When the young woman looked at Jeongin, she got a glimpse of his shocked expression, but even though he was surprised about this revelation, he spoke up quickly, approaching the injured Hongjoong with y/n. 

“We have to bring him to Rain, they can help.” Jeongin spoke calmly and helped the white haired guy to pick up Hongjoong and support him. Chan watched the scene cautiously, gesturing to Minho to follow their youngest. “You go with him and make sure he comes home in one piece. I'll clean up your mess here, Minho,” the oldest of the wolves hissed, wondering how none of them had noticed a siren living close by. Minho already wanted to protest, but one look from Chan silenced him. 

Leading them down the path to Rain's hut, y/n was thinking about what happened, how shocked the ones who saw her scales were. “Y/nie, Stop worrying-” Jeongin's voice got cut by Seonghwa, who sounded curious rather than upset or scared. “You're a half siren, aren't you?” He asked in a calm manner, still supporting his friend while walking. Y/n merely nodded, her head hanging low. She remembered her parent's words, that most people despise sirens and are afraid of them. The group stayed silent the rest of the way, only when they reached the small hut, y/n got more lively again, hurrying inside and dragging the others with her. The only one who stayed outside the hut was Minho, who was very suspicious of the whole situation around this young woman.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperso, @hotteokkay, @minkilicious, @bunnliix,

@gong-fourz, @yeosangiess, @dinossaurz, @scuzmunkie, @h3arteyes4mingi

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

[rabvan]

spymaster, becoming the doctor, and gardening – a little character study

anyone else obsessed with the master and margarita short story?? no?? just me?? oh well you’re getting a character analysis anyway, long rant about spymasters obsession with the doctor via mushrooms under the cut :3

tw for dissociation and substance induced hallucinations (weird ahh mushrooms as torture)

for those of you who haven’t read the master and margarita (i def recommend its super fun) it’s about what dhawan!master was doing during his 77 years on earth in that time skip during spyfall 2. he’s a mushroom farmer in russia, crazy hijinks and thoschei references ensue. maybe i’m going too deep into it but i really love the idea of him as a gardener and what that implies for everything we see in ttc/potd

i’d like to start with the fact that out of all the masters, dhawans is the one least confident in his identity. classic who masters and saxon held their title with pride with their “he’s the master and you will obey him” shtick. missy, even when she was debating her morality, never saw herself as anything other than missy. her title wasn’t being questioned, it was what she chose to do with it. meanwhile, spymaster just... loses himself after looking into the panopticon. he’s faced with the reality that the doctor is more important than he could ever be, and given that he sees his worth as interwoven with hers (the history between us, constantly refers back to their past/when they were equal), this makes him lose all sense of self. it used to be theta and koschei. the doctor and the master. now it’s just the timeless child and….. that’s it. there’s no significant place for him in her life. what’s he supposed to do now, when he’s based his whole history around her?

easy! fracture himself into different personalities, hide behind disguises (i mean, THREE disguises in one episode? calm down dude) in an attempt to hide his unimportance. while the timeless child is the story of child abuse and colonialism, a hurt the doctor will have to live with even if she can’t remember it, the master sees it as a triumph. he is lesser. she is the timeless child and she has existed forever and he is some dumb timelord who fell in love and meant nothing to her in the long-run. he feels like he’s not deserving of being in his own skin anymore so he hides behind whatever name and personality he can find.

but the thing about all his disguises is that they are so human. agent o, a shy little analyst at MI6 with the wide eyed stare and wits to be the doctor’s companion. rasputin, famous bachelor and a piece of history the doctor would notice. he says he despises humans but he dresses up as them because well, do you know who does love them? the doctor :(

which is why his name and intentions in the master and margarita are soooo so interesting to me. first off, his human alias is mikhail (“son of god”, writer of the og master and margarita) afanasyevich (“immortal”, also the og writer of master and margarita) gospodinov (roughly translated to “lord” and “master”). he steals a name, just like rasputin in potd, with a lot of weight on who he is right now. an emphasis on “immortal” “time lord” when hes dealing with the pressure of ttc. hes basically copying the doctor and making a title for himself like the ‘timeless child’ to feel equal again. it’s not the only time he copies the doctor either, hes basically working for “evil russian unit” in this short story. 

(remind you of anything?? yes im talking about the doctor-master. super cool foreshadowing on how hes been trying to become/be one with the doctor before potd)

and it’s literally in the text. the whole reason he spends months cultivating mushrooms for russia is to change history a bit so that jo grant’s marriage will be ruined. such a Doctor thing to do, kind of parallels clara and danny. to love a human is to be overly dramatic over them. the master, again, uses humans for his own benefit but has never been overly fond of them, with the exception of the doctors little companions. hes copying her again.

but the thing is, he keeps cultivating them. he gains a love for caring for them. mushrooms are just mushrooms until they arent. in a time where he thinks he’s the doctors opposite, he begins farming mushrooms bc of jo grant, a detail the doctor would remember just bc he misses her. he couldve spent his time escaping and getting back to his regular timeline to defeat the doctor, but he stayed. because of a human attachment. very doctor-y.

and if that bit of nostalgia wasn’t enough, he even hallucinates the third doctor in this. Which. okay. give me a non-thoschei explanation for this.

i just really like what that short story has to offer as far as the masters obsession with other people and his disguises go. and what it means for him to spend months of his live caring for something, like the doctor would, when all hes done before is kill. what does it mean for the champion of death to cultivate life :(

nyways, if you made it this far, i really hope you enjoyed !! i just love talking about spymaster can you tell lmfaooo and if you liked any of this id recommend reading the gardener by ritheh on ao3 which expands on his whole “killer heals for once” thing its soooo good <33 ok bye see u guys next time

[kawaiigirly21]

Gem of Olympus pt 5

“Oh my… he's precious.” Natasha said as she and her father watched a young Heron from afar. It hadn't felt like any centuries passed since her divorce from Ares. The sexual chaos she was starting had since calmed and now she was content in her duties and the single life. Though this wasn't to say she didn't long for a family of her own. A loving husband and children. Something she never got from Ares.

Her baby fever had influenced her that day to join her father on earth and watch over her new baby brother. “Will he be your heir father? I'm simply asking because I'm sure you wouldn't choose Ares.” Zeus chuckled as he kissed her forehead. “My decision for the next leader of Olympus has yet to be decided my dear. Be careful. You might just end up being picked.” Natasha shook her head. “Oh no, I don't think I'd like the job. Too much responsibility.”

Zeus then smirked. “You want children don't you? Don't you think that's a responsibility as well? Think of the position as a mother and all your subjects are your children. Think about it. Your brothers already act like juveniles anyway.” Natasha covered her mouth to hide her laugh. “Father! You are rude!”

Many days later, disguised as a mortal, Natasha met Heron while he was fetching water from the nearby river. “You do this every day? Why don't you play with the other children?” She asked while helping him pick berries. “I… I don't think they like me. I have no friends but my mom and the old man who has been kind to us.” Natasha thought for a moment before she pet the young boy's head.

“Well now you have another. I'll be your friend Heron.” The boy's eyes lit up as his smile widened. He had another friend! A friend that he noticed as he grew, never seemed to age. He had heard stories of the gods pretending to be mortals to watch over their select favorites, but he didn't want to believe that his close friend was a goddess.

“I never actually seen where you live, Rose. How come?” Heron asked as he and ‘Rose’ aka Natasha, laid on the grass next to each other looking up at the clouds. “Oh um… that's because I… live far away. Like really far.” The goddess answered, trying to be as vague as possible. “Remember that time you fell from that tree and most definitely broke your arm? How did you heal so fast? You were fine in 3 days.”

As Heron stared at his friend, he knew her silence and visible nervousness answered more than enough. “You're not normal…. Are you?” Natasha's silence once again answered more questions. As the goddess sat up, Heron grabbed her hand. “Please tell me! I have to know! Who are you!? Really!?” Sighing to herself, Natasha stood before helping the young man to his feet.

“If I tell you, you must promise to never tell a soul. Promise me Heron.” Nodding to her words, Heron swore to secrecy. With his confirmation, Natasha shed her human disguise with a flash of light to reveal her true identity. “Y-you're Natasha! The goddess of the galaxy!” Natasha was quick to shush her younger brother as he began to shout. “Please be more silent little brother. Who knows what or who is prowling about.”

Heron slowly nodded before freezing. “Wait.. Did you just call me little brother? How can I be your younger brother?” Natasha bit her lip before moving away from her brother. “I'm afraid I cannot explain any further. I have already done too much. Just know, we share parentage with a single soul Heron. And he is closer than he appears.”

With those words, Natasha retreated back to Olympus. Leaving her younger brother stewing with theories on what she meant. Who could she possibly mean? Suddenly at dinner later that night, it hit him like a ton of bricks. They share a father. Zeus! The king of Olympus! She had also told him that their father was closer than he appeared. With that information in mind, Heron already had his suspicions.

Back on Olympus, As Natasha readied herself for bed and to end the night rereading the great Titanomachy, her door was thrust open to reveal none other than her ex husband, Ares. “And where have YOU been all day!?” The war god shouted in anger. This confused the goddess quite a bit. Considering they had divorced centuries ago and

hadn't made any conversation since then.

“With all due respect Ares, that's none of your business. I'm a grown woman with my own agenda. I do not run into your chambers demanding to know your previous location while you're readying for bed with that whore you call a wife now do I?” Ares growled before walking up to Natasha's bed and stood at the end of it. Not daring to go any further.

“It is my business when rumors about my ex wife having an illicit affair with some disgustingly undeserving mortal hero spread like wildfire! I will not have you shame me by defiling yourself with that man!!” Natasha fought back the urge to laugh in the god's face as she placed down her book. “My relationship with Hercules is none of your business. Besides, he's not the first mortal hero I let storm my palace. My first was Perseus. Not you.”

Ares simply glared at his ex wife before turning to leave her chambers. “Ares!” Natasha called out to the god causing him to turn. “I'm just curious, since when did you care about shame? You cheated on me with a bitchy cunt for years in our marriage. Then married her right after our divorce. If I'm being honest, I didn't know you even knew the word shame.”

Ares huffed before slamming the door with all the force he could muster before retiring to his own chambers. While he boiled with anger, Natasha remained unbothered. Taking a sip of ambrosia from her cup, she then returned to her book.

[celepom]

For Transgender Day of Visibility, here’s several books about Gender that I haven’t recommended before (I Think)!

Fine: A Comic About Gender

By Rhea Ewing

As graphic artist Rhea Ewing neared college graduation in 2012, they became consumed by the question: What is gender? This obsession sparked a quest in which they eagerly approached both friends and strangers in their quiet Midwest town for interviews to turn into comics. A decade later, this project exploded into a sweeping portrait of the intricacies of gender expression with interviewees from all over the country. Questions such as “How do you Identify” produced fiercely honest stories of dealing with adolescence, taking hormones, changing pronouns—and how these experiences can differ, often drastically, depending on culture, race, and religion. Amidst beautifully rendered scenes emerges Ewing’s own story of growing up in rural Kentucky, grappling with their identity as a teenager, and ultimately finding themself through art—and by creating something this very fine. Tender and wise, inclusive and inviting, Fine is an indispensable account for anyone eager to define gender in their own terms. 

Galaxy: The Prettiest Star 

By Jadzia Axelrod & Jess Taylor (Illustrator)

It takes strength to live as your true self, and one alien princess disguised as a human boy is about to test her power. A vibrant story about gender identity, romance, and shining as bright as the stars. Taylor Barzelay has the perfect life. Good looks, good grades, a starting position on the basketball team, a loving family, even an adorable corgi. Every day in Taylor’s life is perfect. And every day is torture. Taylor is actually the Galaxy Crowned, an alien princess from the planet Cyandii, and one of the few survivors of an intergalactic war. For six long, painful years, Taylor has accepted her duty to remain in hiding as a boy on Earth. That all changes when Taylor meets Metropolis girl Katherine “call me Kat” Silverberg, whose confidence is electrifying. Suddenly, Taylor no longer wants to hide, even if exposing her true identity could attract her greatest enemies. From the charming and brilliant mind behind the popular podcast The Voice of Free Planet X, Jadzia Axelrod, and with stunningly colorful artwork by Jess Taylor comes the story of a girl in hiding who must face her fears to see herself as others see her: the prettiest star.

To Strip the Flesh

By Oto Toda

A moving collection of six short stories that explores what must be stripped away to find the truth and celebrates the beauty of embracing who you are. Chiaki Ogawa has never doubted that he is a boy, although the rest of the world has not been as kind. Bound by his mother’s dying wish, Chiaki tries to be a good daughter to his ailing father. When the burden becomes too great, Chiaki sets out to remake himself in his own image and discovers more than just personal freedom with his transition—he finds understanding from the people who matter most.

Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston 

By Esme Symes-Smith

In a magical medieval world filled with dragons, shape-shifters, and witches, a twelve-year-old hero will search for their place as an impending war threatens. A thrilling middle-grade series opener that stars a nonbinary tween and explores identity and gender amid sword fights. My name is Callie, and I'm not a girl. I am here as Papa's squire, and I want to train as a knight. In a world where girls learn magic and boys train as knights, twelve-year-old nonbinary Callie doesn't fit in anywhere. And you know what? That's just fine. Callie has always known exactly what they want to be, and they're not about to let a silly thing like gender rules stand in their way. When their ex-hero dad is summoned back to the royal capital of Helston to train a hopeless crown prince as war looms, Callie lunges at the opportunity to finally prove themself worthy to Helston's great and powerful. Except the intolerant great and powerful look at Callie and only see girl. Trapped in Helston's rigid hierarchy, Callie discovers they aren't alone--there's Elowen, the chancellor's brilliant daughter, whose unparalleled power is being stifled; Edwyn, Elowen's twin brother, locked in a desperate fight to win his father's approval; and Willow, the crown prince who was never meant to be king. In this start to an epic series packed with action, humor, and heart, Callie and their new friends quickly find themselves embedded in an ancient war--the only hope to defeat the dragons and witches outside the kingdom lies in first defeating the bigotry within.

I Think I Turned My Childhood Friend Into a Girl 

By Azusa Banjo

It's a familiar story: a popular high school student gives their plain friend a makeover and transforms their life. But this time, the path to a new life isn't quite so straight and narrow. Kenshirou Midou has loved cosmetics all his life, keeping his obsession secret from almost everyone except for his childhood friend Hiura Mihate. One day, Kenshirou gets permission to practice applying makeup on Hiura, and the results are earth-shattering: Hiura's appearance transforms from a plain, undersized boy to a pretty, petite girl, and Kenshirou discovers just how freeing it is to apply his passion! Yet he's not the only one who finds the process liberating. Hiura likes the makeup, and the subsequent dress-up in feminine clothes, and decides to start wearing the girls' uniform to school. Kenshirou doesn't understand if he's unlocked something in Hiura, or if he's simply seeing a new side to his childhood buddy that he never noticed before. What are these feelings bubbling between them now--is this attraction truly new?

My Androgynous Boyfriend 

By Tamekou Wako and her androgynous boyfriend don't exactly have the most traditional of relationships. She spends her days working hard in the world of publishing, while he spends his time obsessing over fashion and makeup--all with the goal of making himself beautiful just for her. This romantic slice-of-life story is about love, relationships, and breaking with tradition!

[badger-tales]

Secrets in the greenhouse//N.L x Reader

A/n: this was so interesting to write!!! i really loved this i hope you love it too! also the sphinx is based on the greek sphinx not the egyptian sphinx

word count: 6.8K

request: This is kind of really odd, but would you mind writing a Neville x reader who is a sphynx-type. I mean that literally. She has physical and behavioral sphynx traits (slit pupils, canines, wings) but tries her best to hide them in different ways so she can attend Hogwarts. We know there are centaurs, mermaids, and other humanoid creatures, but as we see in ootp during the forest scene with umbridge and in other scenes in hogwarts legacy, there's tension between wizard kind the other humanoids of the world. I imagine half breeds wouldn't be able to attend Hogwarts, so the reader has had to hide it nearly her whole life. I think it's interesting because she would be half blood but not in the wizard-muggle way but a wizard-creature way, yk? Maybe a dash of angst but mostly fluff

sorry if this is strange 😭, I enjoy exploring more out of question scenarios. i'd completely understand if you didn't want to do this 🙏

The first time you cast the spell to hide your eyes, it felt like fire lancing through your skull.

The glamour spell was simple on parchment, a string of murmured incantations woven together with a twist of your wand. But the sensation was anything but simple. Your eyes shifted painfully in their sockets, as though they were being squeezed into a mould they weren’t meant to fill, forced to be something they weren't. Each time, it was like your very essence fought against the magic, rejecting the falsehoods you tried to impose on it. It left your skin prickling with unease, your body rebelling at the deception. The sting would fade, but the crawling feeling beneath your skin, the unnatural weight of the illusion, lingered long after the spell had settled.

You would stand in front of the mirror for what felt like hours, staring at your reflection, willing the enchantment to hold. The soft curve of human irises stared back at you, so foreign compared to the sharp slits that lay beneath. And still, in the cold, dim lighting of your dormitory, you could almost see your true eyes peeking through the magic, as if daring to be seen. The illusion was fragile, even if no one else could tell. Your breath would catch each morning as you checked for cracks, waiting for the day it would betray you.

*Today’s the day it’ll fail,* you thought every morning. *Today, someone will notice.*

You lived in constant fear that one careless moment—one blink too long or a glance caught in the wrong light—would shatter your careful disguise. That someone would spot the unnatural gleam in your gaze, or worse, the sharp glint of your canines, barely hidden by a well-rehearsed smile. A single misstep, and everything you had fought so hard to keep hidden would be laid bare.

Attending Hogwarts had always been your dream, ever since you were a child. Just like every other magical child who grew up hearing stories of the castle’s towering spires and enchanted corridors, you had longed for the day when your letter would arrive, delivering you to a world of spells and adventure. But unlike those children, you knew you would never truly fit in. Your acceptance into Hogwarts hadn’t come as easily. You were not a half-blood in the way the wizarding world so neatly defined—a mix of magical and Muggle lineage. No, your blood was split in a much stranger way.

A sphinx’s blood flowed through your veins.

It was your mother’s legacy, a heritage she had shared with you as a child when her wings had folded protectively around you, shielding you from the world’s cruelty. She had loved you with a fierceness that echoed in your own heart. But she had also taught you the hard truth early: the wizarding world was not kind to those who bore the mark of magical creatures. Not even those who walked on two legs. Not even to those with human minds, human hearts, and the desperate desire to belong.

So you learned to hide. You learned to bend yourself into something passable, something human. The enchantments you placed over your body became your armor, your shield against the world’s prejudiced gaze. By the time you reached your third year at Hogwarts, you were a master at concealing your true nature. You no longer thought about the spells you cast each morning; they were as automatic as brushing your teeth. With a whispered word and a flick of your wand, your wings were bound tightly to your back, your claws tucked away beneath enchanted gloves. It was second nature now—this act of erasing the parts of yourself that didn’t belong.

But no matter how much magic you wove around your body, there was no spell strong enough to block out the words.

You sat at the back of the Potions classroom, blending into the shadows like you always did. The flickering light from the cauldron cast strange patterns on the walls, and the smell of brewing concoctions hung thick in the air. Your fingers worked meticulously as you sliced the asphodel root, trying to focus on the task at hand. But then the conversation drifted your way, drawing you in despite your best efforts to ignore it.

“Did you hear about that centaur the Ministry arrested?” a voice asked from across the room, casual, as if they were discussing the weather.

Your hands paused for a moment, grip tightening on the knife.

“They caught him in Knockturn Alley, right? Probably selling some cursed junk. Not that it’s surprising, honestly.” There was a laugh, light and unconcerned, as if the thought of a creature being rounded up like a criminal was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Honestly, they shouldn’t let them in the magical world at all. They belong in the forest.”

Your heart clenched painfully at those words, your stomach twisting as you forced yourself to keep chopping. Each slice of the root felt jagged now, your control slipping as the conversation pressed on, sinking deeper into your skin.

“They’re dangerous. All of them,” another voice chimed in, and you didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Pansy Parkinson. The unmistakable sneer in her voice sent a shiver down your spine. She was always the first to jump on anything that reeked of prejudice. “Half-breeds, magical creatures… the Ministry really needs to crack down. Who knows what they’ll let in next?”

You hunched lower over your cauldron, as if the rising steam could somehow shield you from the venom in their words. *Half-breeds.* You could feel your pulse quickening in your throat, the word echoing in your mind like a curse. *Magical creatures.* The same labels they’d use for you if they ever knew. If anyone found out.

You swallowed hard, the weight of your secret pressing down on you more heavily than ever. You were one of them. And no matter how much you tried to hide it, you couldn’t erase what you were. Their words weren’t just daggers aimed at faceless creatures; they were aimed at you, at the core of who you were. Each time they spoke with such careless disdain, it chipped away at the fragile illusion you had built around yourself.

“I mean, honestly, if they start letting things like *that* into Hogwarts…” Pansy trailed off, but the disgust was clear enough. It hung in the air like a noxious fog.

You wanted to disappear into the stone walls of the classroom, to melt away so no one could ever look at you again. Your hands shook as you added the asphodel to your cauldron, willing the heat of the potion to consume the bitter taste in your mouth.

But no matter how well you hid, you couldn’t escape the truth. You would never be one of them—not truly.

The words cut deeper than you ever wanted to admit.

Pansy Parkinson had been talking about “things”—creatures, monsters, beings not human enough to belong. Her words dripped with casual disgust, the way one might sneer at dirt beneath their shoes. And the worst part was, she wasn’t wrong. The “things” she so easily condemned could’ve been you. You could feel the target on your back, the weight of the secret you carried pressing down harder with every cruel word she spoke. They didn’t know you—none of them did—and yet their contempt was automatic, as though it had been planted deep within them from birth, nurtured by whispers at home, by laws at the Ministry, by the very society they all cherished so much.

You swallowed hard against the tight knot that had formed in your throat, trying to force down the bitterness that threatened to choke you. Your hand trembled slightly as you finished preparing your potion, the rhythmic stirring of the ladle the only thing keeping you tethered to the moment. Around you, the dull clinks and murmurs of the Potions classroom carried on as though nothing had happened. As if those words hadn’t just twisted a knife in your gut.

Professor Snape swept past your cauldron without so much as a second glance, his dark robes brushing the stone floor in silence. As usual, he barely registered your presence. That was fine. You preferred not to be noticed—especially now, when every nerve in your body was on edge, raw and exposed. The fewer eyes on you, the safer you felt. After all, it was easier to hide in the shadows when no one bothered to look.

But later, when you were back in the Gryffindor common room, the comforting warmth of the fire did nothing to ease the chill that had settled deep inside you. You sat curled up in the corner, your knees tucked under you, a book balanced precariously on your lap. The pages blurred in front of your eyes as you stared blankly at the words, unable to focus. The laughter and chatter around you faded into a dull hum, muffled by the echo of the conversation in Potions class.

It wasn’t just the Slytherins. You knew that. Even here, in Gryffindor, where you were supposed to feel safe, there were whispers. Quiet murmurs of “keeping the bloodlines pure,” of the dangers of mixing magic with creatures who were “less than.” The Gryffindors weren’t as vocal as the Slytherins about it, but the sentiments were there, lingering in the background, passed around in cautious glances and hushed tones. 

It made your stomach twist to think that these people, your housemates, the ones you laughed with, the ones who cheered for you during Quidditch matches, might turn on you if they ever knew the truth. 

You pulled your cloak tighter around yourself, as though the fabric could shield you from the thoughts that plagued your mind, but the fire's warmth did nothing to banish the cold that had taken root in your chest. It was an exhausting act—pretending every single day, living under the weight of the secret that you weren’t like them. Not really. Not entirely. Every moment was spent balancing on the edge, terrified that you might slip—that the glamour you cast each morning might falter. That one day, a glimmer of your true self might shine through the cracks you worked so hard to patch.

And it wasn’t just about losing your place at Hogwarts. The fear was deeper, more visceral. It was the fear of rejection, of being cast out. The idea that if they knew what you were, no one would ever look at you the same way again. That the people you thought of as friends would avert their eyes, avoid your touch, shun you without hesitation. Would anyone sit next to you in class, knowing what lay beneath your robes? Would they shrink away from you in the halls, as if the mere brush of your wing or claw would taint them?

You thought of Hagrid. Beloved by so many, his giant blood still whispered about behind his back. People liked him, sure, but that didn’t stop them from talking—didn’t stop them from quietly judging, from keeping their distance when they thought no one was looking. How much worse would it be for you, a girl with wings and fangs, a girl who wasn’t fully human?

Your hand drifted instinctively to your chest, pressing down over the spot where your wings were bound tight beneath layers of cloth and magic. They shifted slightly under your touch, a dull ache thrumming beneath your skin. Sometimes, on nights like this, they longed to be free, to stretch out and feel the air on their feathers. But that was impossible here. 

*Not here. Not ever.*

You exhaled slowly, trying to shake the feeling, but it clung to you, heavy and unshakable. Across the room, a group of Gryffindor girls passed by, laughing about something you couldn’t quite catch. Their laughter was bright, effortless. They didn’t even glance in your direction as they passed. It was as if you didn’t exist. 

And maybe that was for the best. Invisibility had become your greatest ally. You had perfected the art of being overlooked, of slipping through life unnoticed. It kept you safe, kept your secrets safe. But even so, the isolation still hurt, a sharp ache that gnawed at you from within.

A small, treacherous voice whispered at the back of your mind, soft but persistent. *You don’t belong here.* It echoed in the silence between breaths, filling the spaces left by the laughter and warmth of the common room. *You never will.*

The truth of it settled over you like a blanket of cold. You pressed your hand harder against your chest, as though you could bury the feeling deep enough that it wouldn’t touch you anymore. But no matter how tightly you held onto the fabric of your cloak, the weight of your difference, your otherness, was always there, pressing in on all sides.

You were here, surrounded by people, and yet you had never felt more alone.

—

It wasn’t until the Triwizard Tournament that things began to take a darker turn.

Before then, you had managed to keep your head down, your secret tucked neatly away behind carefully cast charms and well-practiced smiles. You had grown used to the whispers about magical creatures, about half-breeds and things that weren’t quite human. But the tension had always been a dull hum in the background, easily ignored as long as you stayed hidden in plain sight.

Then the Tournament came, bringing with it not just excitement and international attention, but scrutiny. Everywhere you went, the wizarding world seemed to be buzzing with conversation, and more often than not, it wasn’t about the champions or the tasks they faced—it was about blood. 

With the arrival of Fleur Delacour, a part-Veela, it became impossible to ignore the shifting tide. Her ethereal beauty caught everyone’s attention, but it wasn’t admiration that followed her; it was suspicion, mistrust, even jealousy. You could hear it in the way people whispered behind her back, the way they talked about her as though she were less than human, nothing more than a pretty creature meant to dazzle and deceive. Her Veela heritage, meant to be something of wonder, became the subject of cruel speculation, as if she wasn’t worthy of standing on the same stage as the other champions.

And then there was the Ministry. Their rhetoric about “creature control” was growing louder with each passing day, fueling the fires of an already restless world. The word “creature” was spat out with increasing venom, as though beings who weren’t fully human were some kind of infestation that needed to be dealt with. You heard it in the corridors, in classrooms, in the very air that filled the Great Hall during mealtimes. The tension was palpable, like a storm brewing just beyond the horizon, and you found yourself more on edge than ever before.

One evening, as you passed through the library, the weight of that tension clung to you like a heavy cloak. The rows of books usually brought you a small measure of comfort, their towering shelves offering quiet refuge from the noise of the outside world. But tonight, even the library wasn’t safe from the creeping shadow of prejudice.

You were just slipping past a group of Ravenclaw boys when you overheard a conversation that made your stomach twist.

“My dad’s saying the Ministry’s working on some new laws to keep magical creatures in check,” one of the boys muttered, his voice low but charged with anticipation. There was a strange eagerness in his tone, the kind that made your skin crawl.

“It’s about time,” another boy replied, snorting with disdain. “They shouldn’t be allowed to blend in with proper wizards.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you instinctively slowed your pace, the words sinking into you like cold, jagged stones. You ducked your head, trying to stay out of sight, but your ears strained to catch the rest of their conversation.

“What, like Veelas or goblins are gonna start enrolling in Hogwarts?” the second boy continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Can you imagine?”

The first boy laughed, a short, sharp sound that rang too loud in the quiet of the library. “Yeah, right. If one of *them* was here, we’d all know.”

His words hung in the air like poison, spreading through you with each passing second. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your pulse quickening as a familiar wave of fear washed over you. They had no idea how wrong they were. They didn’t know who—or what—was walking right past them, sharing their classes, sitting at the same tables in the Great Hall. They had no clue that their words were aimed at someone who was already standing among them.

You quickened your pace, forcing yourself to keep moving, but the pounding of your heart only grew louder in your ears. The Ravenclaws’ laughter faded behind you, but the weight of their conversation clung to you, settling deep in your bones.

*If only they knew,* you thought bitterly, your hands clenched tight at your sides. What would they say if they realized they were sharing this space with someone who wasn’t fully human? Someone who had been hiding in plain sight all these years, living under a constant veil of deception. Would they recoil in horror? Would they demand you leave Hogwarts altogether? 

The thought sent a chill down your spine. You had heard enough of these conversations over the years to know how quickly fear could turn into hatred. You had witnessed it in the way people spoke about Hagrid, about Fleur, about anyone who didn’t fit neatly into the wizarding world’s idea of what was “proper.” It didn’t matter how skilled you were, how kind, how careful. In the end, to people like those boys, you would always be a creature. Something other. Something to be feared.

You pushed open the doors to the library and stepped into the cold corridor beyond, the sudden rush of air biting at your skin. You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself, as though it could shield you from the ugliness of their words, but no amount of fabric or magic could erase the truth.

You weren’t safe. Not really. Not with people like them so close, not with the Ministry breathing down the necks of anyone who wasn’t fully human. You felt it in every glance, every whispered conversation, every cruel laugh that echoed through the halls.

As you made your way toward the Gryffindor common room, your steps quickened, your mind racing. You had spent so long pretending, so long hiding, but the world outside Hogwarts was growing darker by the day. And no matter how much you tried to blend in, to make yourself invisible, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was only a matter of time before the truth came to light.

And when it did—what would happen to you?

By the time fifth year rolled around, the weight of your secret had become unbearable.

At first, you had been able to manage it, slipping the glamour over your eyes with ease each morning, cloaking your wings and claws without a second thought. But the strain of constantly pretending to be something you weren’t—of hiding your true nature—was taking its toll, and you felt it in every part of yourself. Your grades, once solid and dependable, had begun to slip, your concentration shattered by the endless fear gnawing at the back of your mind. Each day, you retreated further into yourself, speaking less, interacting with others only when absolutely necessary. It felt safer that way. The walls of Hogwarts, which had once promised adventure and belonging, now felt like a cage—a prison you had constructed around yourself, reinforced by lies and illusions.

The pressure of maintaining your glamour spells was growing with each passing day. What used to be a simple flick of your wand now required constant focus, as if the magic was slipping through your fingers, breaking apart like a dam with too many cracks to mend. You could feel it slipping in moments of weakness, a sudden sharp pain behind your eyes, a twitch of your wings under your robes, a claw accidentally peeking through your gloves. It felt like you were balancing on a knife’s edge, always on the verge of falling.

It didn’t help that the world outside Hogwarts was growing more hostile toward people like you. Each day, the news was filled with stories of new laws being proposed—laws aimed at controlling magical creatures, at monitoring half-breeds, at ensuring "purity" in wizarding society. The hatred and suspicion toward anyone who wasn’t fully human had seeped into the very air at Hogwarts, poisoning the once-safe halls. You overheard conversations in the common room, in the Great Hall, even in the quiet corners of the library. People spoke in hushed tones about "keeping the magical bloodlines pure" and "protecting wizardkind." 

And then there was Umbridge.

Her presence at Hogwarts was a suffocating weight in itself, but it was her blatant, smiling hatred for magical creatures that made your stomach twist with fear. From the moment she took control of Defense Against the Dark Arts, it was clear that she had no love for anyone who wasn’t fully human. But it wasn’t until one particular class that you truly understood the depths of her prejudice.

You had been sitting near the back, as usual, head down, your quill scratching across the parchment as you pretended to take notes. Umbridge’s sugary voice filled the room, sickeningly sweet as she discussed Ministry policies. And then, out of nowhere, she shifted her focus to Hagrid.

“Half-breeds are dangerous,” she said, her voice bright and falsely cheerful. "They are unpredictable, untrustworthy. They should not be permitted the same rights as true wizards. Why, they shouldn’t even be allowed to use wands. It’s a wonder the Ministry tolerates it at all." She smiled, her eyes glittering with malice, as though her words were some grand joke. 

Your blood ran cold. The quill in your hand trembled, and you gripped it tighter, trying to keep your breathing steady, trying to hold onto the last threads of composure you had left. But her words—*half-breeds shouldn’t be allowed to wield wands*—felt like a blade pressing against your chest. 

She was talking about Hagrid, of course. But it didn’t matter. It felt as though the words were aimed directly at you, as if she somehow knew what you were hiding and was waiting for the moment to expose you. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you could barely hear the rest of her lecture over the roaring in your ears.

“I mean, really,” Umbridge continued with a twisted smile. “Half-breeds like him are simply not fit to participate in wizarding society. We must ensure that those of pure magical heritage are protected.”

You felt sick. You gripped your quill so hard it nearly snapped in your hand, the sharp edge of it digging into your palm. The world Umbridge wanted—the world she so casually described—was one where people like you didn’t belong. A world where you wouldn’t even be allowed to set foot in Hogwarts, let alone carry a wand. The thought sent a wave of nausea through you, and for the rest of the class, you kept your head down, praying that no one could see the panic rising inside you.

Each day, you grew more certain that it was only a matter of time before the glamour failed, before someone noticed your eyes or your wings, before your secret was exposed to the world. And when that day came, you had no doubt what would happen. They would turn on you—Umbridge, the Ministry, even some of your fellow students. They would shun you, cast you out, brand you as something dangerous, something *other*. You were tired of being afraid, but the fear had become your constant companion, and you didn’t know how to escape it.

It was around this time that Neville Longbottom entered your life in an unexpected way.

The formation of Dumbledore’s Army had been a small spark of hope, a flicker of resistance in the oppressive atmosphere Umbridge had created. You had hesitated at first, unsure if you could trust anyone with your presence, unsure if you should even get involved. But as the walls of your own isolation began to close in around you, the idea of joining a group of students who were fighting back—students who were standing up against Umbridge and the Ministry—became too tempting to ignore.

It was in the Room of Requirement where you first started to notice Neville. He wasn’t loud or boastful like some of the others. He didn’t show off his skills or try to prove anything. But there was something about him, something steady and unshakable, that drew you in. You watched from the back of the room as he practiced spells with quiet determination, his wand movements growing stronger with each session. There was a strength in him that others often overlooked, but you saw it. You saw the way he kept trying, no matter how many times he stumbled.

One evening, after a particularly grueling session, you found yourself standing beside him as the group began to disperse. You hadn’t planned to speak to him, but when he looked at you with that soft, encouraging smile, the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

“You were really good tonight.”

Neville blinked, surprised, and then his face lit up with a bashful grin. “Thanks,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Still have a long way to go, though.”

“So do I,” you admitted, the weight of your secret hanging between you like a shadow, though Neville had no idea. But there was something about him—something that made you feel like, maybe, one day, you might not have to hide so much around him.

The two of you began talking more after that, usually after D.A. meetings. At first, it was just casual conversations about spells or the absurdity of Umbridge’s classes, but over time, something deeper started to form. You found yourself lingering after practice just to talk to him, to bask in the easy warmth of his presence. And slowly, ever so slowly, the walls you had built around yourself began to crack—not from fear this time, but from the quiet, tentative friendship you were building with Neville.

For the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe you didn’t have to be so alone.

The warmth of the greenhouse always brought a sense of comfort, a rare moment of peace in a world where you constantly had to pretend. The heavy, humid air reminded you of home—the cliffs and open skies, the dry heat that bathed the sands in golden light. In that world, the one before Hogwarts, you never had to hide. Your wings could stretch freely, your claws digging into the earth, your eyes catching the sunlight in their natural, slit-pupiled form. There, among the rocks and wide horizons, you could be yourself without fear.

But Hogwarts was different. Hogwarts was where you learned to shrink, to fold yourself inwards, to bury parts of you that no one could ever see. The walls that promised protection and learning also demanded secrecy. Each day, the enchantments you placed on yourself grew heavier, the effort of maintaining them like an invisible weight you carried around constantly. The glamour on your eyes—one of the most delicate spells you had to cast—always seemed to wear thin by the end of the day, the false irises becoming a little too light, a little too translucent. You could feel it now, that uncomfortable tug in your magic, telling you it was slipping. 

You pulled your hood lower over your face as you moved through the rows of plants in the greenhouse, trying to disappear into the work Professor Sprout had given you. Your hands moved with the practiced ease of someone who had learned to blend in, tending to the plants as quietly as possible. But beneath the surface, your nerves buzzed. Every moment here was a risk, another chance for someone to notice the cracks in your disguise.

And then there was Neville Longbottom, quiet and steady as always, tending to the Venomous Tentacula beside you. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at him from under your hood. Neville had always intrigued you—there was something calming about him, something gentle in the way he moved through the world. He interacted with the plants like they were his friends, his touch careful and reverent, as though he understood the value of things most people overlooked. 

Neville never judged anyone. Not the plants, not the people around him, not even himself, despite the quiet moments of self-doubt you sometimes glimpsed in his eyes. It was that quality, that unspoken kindness, that made you feel… safer. Safer than you had felt in a long time. Maybe that’s why you stayed in the greenhouses later than usual on days when you knew Neville would be there. Even though you never really spoke, his presence was enough. It was like standing in the shadow of something solid, something dependable, and for someone like you—who spent most days living behind masks—Neville was a balm to your frayed nerves.

But today was different. You could feel the glamour on your eyes flickering more dangerously than usual, the tug of failing magic sharper, more urgent. You winced, turning away from Neville as quickly as you could, pretending to inspect the Puffapods as your mind raced. If the spell failed here, now, with him so close, what would you do? What would he see? 

“Are you okay?” 

Neville’s voice was soft, but it startled you, the unexpected closeness of it making your breath catch. You hadn’t realized he had moved so near, and when you turned, he was standing just behind you, his brow furrowed in concern. His warm brown eyes searched your face, and for a terrifying second, you were sure he could see through the cracks in your glamour, see the truth hidden behind the magic. 

You froze. Instinctively, you pulled your hood lower, your hands twitching to cover more of your face. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, the words stumbling out of your mouth too quickly, too tight with nerves.

Neville didn’t look convinced. He blinked, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your hands, where the tips of your claws had started to extend slightly from beneath your gloves. You hadn’t even noticed, but now you could feel the sharp points pressing against the fabric. Panic flared in your chest, and you jerked your hands behind your back, cursing under your breath. 

“You don’t… look fine,” Neville said gently, his voice quiet but steady, the concern in his eyes deepening. He took a small step closer, as though he was afraid of startling you, his hands still at his sides. 

The tension in the air felt like a wire pulled tight between you, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, wondering if this was it. The moment when everything fell apart.

"Really, I’m fine. Just… tired," you blurted out, your voice shaking with the lie. You took a quick step back, desperate to put space between you and Neville, but the movement was too abrupt. Too clumsy. The hood of your cloak slipped from your head, just for a split second—just long enough for Neville to catch a glimpse.

His eyes widened, and his face shifted in surprise. His lips parted slightly, and he froze, staring at you like he’d seen something impossible. You knew he had. In that brief moment, he had seen your eyes—the eyes you fought so hard to hide—the sharp, slitted pupils that no amount of glamour could fully disguise if the spell faltered.

Panic surged through you like a wave crashing over the shore. Your chest tightened, breath coming faster as you yanked the hood back into place, turning away sharply. *No, no, no.* It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You’d been so careful, always so careful. The glamours, the charms, the constant vigilance—it had all been for nothing now. Your hands, gloved and trembling, clenched into fists at your sides. *He’s seen. It’s all over.*

You braced yourself for what would come next, the inevitable disgust or fear that followed when someone discovered what you truly were. The weight of years of secrecy bore down on you, making your legs feel weak. Half-creatures weren’t welcome here. Not really. Hogwarts tolerated centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, mermaids in the Black Lake—but students? Half-breeds? That was something else entirely.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat like a ticking clock counting down to your undoing. You couldn’t afford to be found out. You *knew* what would happen—rumors, expulsion, isolation. You couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t—

“You’re not… like everyone else, are you?” Neville’s voice was quiet, gentle, almost cautious. But it wasn’t the kind of caution laced with fear or rejection. It wasn’t the disgust you expected. Instead, it was laced with curiosity, the kind that made you feel less like a specimen under a microscope and more like someone he wanted to *understand*.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your breath catching painfully in your throat. The admission was on the tip of your tongue, a whisper from your soul that you had never dared to speak aloud. “No,” you murmured, so softly you almost wondered if he heard. “I’m not.”

There was a pause. You could feel his presence behind you, warm and steady, but he didn’t move. He didn’t back away. 

“It’s okay,” Neville said after what felt like an eternity, his voice low and full of quiet reassurance. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

You spun around so quickly it was as if the words themselves had forced you to face him. Disbelief etched itself across your features. “What?” you snapped, your voice sharp, more defensive than you intended. The panic twisted in your gut, and despite your best efforts, your pupils narrowed into the unmistakable slits of your true form. 

Neville didn’t flinch. He didn’t move away or even look startled. Instead, he smiled—a soft, understanding smile that reached his eyes, warm and full of the kindness that had always made him different from everyone else. “I’ve never cared much about what people are,” he said simply. “Just who they are. You’re still you.”

His words hit you like a jolt, stronger than any spell. Your breath stuttered in your chest, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t recoiling. He wasn’t afraid. He was standing there, his expression open and gentle, as if it didn’t matter at all that you were something more than human. As if he *saw* you, beyond the wings and claws and magic, and still cared.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your wings shifting beneath your robes, a restless reminder of the part of yourself you could never let free. “But I’m not—” You couldn’t finish the sentence. *I’m not human,* you wanted to say. *Not fully.* And in the wizarding world, that meant you didn’t belong. Not really.

Neville took a small step closer, his gaze never leaving yours, still so calm and steady. There was no fear in his eyes. Just curiosity. Kindness. “I’m not exactly the picture of normal either, you know,” he said with a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Everyone still calls me ‘the boy who’s rubbish at magic,’ even though I’m… well, not anymore.”

His words made you pause. You hadn’t thought about Neville like that in a long time. He *had* changed, hadn’t he? The boy who had once fumbled through spells now faced the world with quiet determination, a strength that had grown inside him over the years. And if Neville could change—if he could be more than what people expected him to be—maybe you weren’t as different as you thought.

Without thinking, you slowly pulled off the glove on your left hand, revealing the sharp claws that had always been hidden beneath. Neville’s eyes flickered to your hand, and for a brief moment, you braced yourself for the reaction you had always feared. But it never came. Instead, Neville looked at your claws, then back at you, and reached out, his hand hovering just above yours.

You didn’t move, barely daring to breathe, as his fingers gently wrapped around yours, warm and firm but incredibly gentle. His touch sent a shiver through you, not from fear, but from something deeper—something unfamiliar and comforting all at once.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” Neville repeated, his voice soft but resolute. His thumb brushed lightly over the rough texture of your skin, and you felt the tension in your chest begin to unravel, if only just a little. “You’re incredible just the way you are.”

The kindness in his words, the warmth of his touch, melted through you like sunlight breaking through clouds after a long, bitter storm. It was subtle at first—a soft loosening in your chest, a small breath you hadn’t realized you were holding—but it grew, filling you with a sense of relief so profound it almost ached. For so long, you had carried the weight of your secret like a stone tied around your heart, pulling you down into isolation, forcing you to fold in on yourself to avoid being seen for what you truly were. But here, standing in the soft glow of the greenhouse with Neville’s gentle smile and understanding eyes on you, it felt like the tension that had been coiled tightly around your soul finally began to unravel.

For the first time in what felt like ages, you let yourself breathe. *Really* breathe. Not the shallow, measured breaths you had become so accustomed to—those were the breaths of someone always braced for something to go wrong, for someone to notice, for the cracks to show. But here, in this moment, you let the air fill your lungs fully, let the pressure in your chest loosen and dissipate.

You let yourself *be*.

Beneath your robes, the constant strain of holding your wings tight against your back finally eased. The muscles that had been locked in place for so long relaxed, and though your wings remained hidden, they no longer felt like a burden you had to bear alone. The weight, so familiar by now it had almost become a part of you, lifted ever so slightly. Just enough for you to feel the difference. Just enough for you to realize how heavy it had truly been.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, cracking under the weight of the emotions threatening to spill over. There was something fragile in your tone, something raw, but for once you weren’t afraid of it. Neville had seen a piece of you that you had kept hidden for so long, and he hadn’t recoiled. He hadn’t pulled away. The gratitude you felt for that, for his quiet acceptance, lodged itself deep in your throat, making the words hard to say but impossible to hold back.

Neville’s smile grew wider, and though it was a little awkward—his cheeks coloring slightly as he glanced down at the space between you—there was a tenderness in it that made your heart stutter. It wasn’t forced or rehearsed; it was genuine, just like him. “Anytime,” he replied, his voice soft but filled with a sincerity that made you believe him. He meant it. 

He would be there for you. 

The realization settled over you like a blanket, warm and unexpected. For the first time since you had come to Hogwarts, since you had stepped foot into this vast, intimidating world full of secrets and judgment, you didn’t feel so alone. The constant fear of exposure, the unrelenting need to hide every part of yourself, had always made you feel like an outsider, like no matter how hard you tried to blend in, you would never truly belong.

But now… you weren’t sure.

In Neville’s company, for the first time, that distance between you and the rest of the world seemed to shrink. He had seen a part of you that you had worked so hard to keep hidden, and instead of turning away, he had reached out, offered his hand, and told you it was okay to be yourself. You weren’t sure how to process it—how to wrap your mind around the idea that you didn’t have to carry the burden of your secret alone. It felt like opening a door you hadn’t realized had been closed, letting light flood into the dark, forgotten corners of your heart.

And that light… it was comforting.

[novthewolf]

Two’s company, three’s a family - Part three

Summary : As a cupid, an angel of love, your mission was to make sure everyone was paired up with the right person. Yet you couldn’t get your two most ancient clients to finally end up together. And despite the 6,000 years spent on the case, you couldn’t bring yourself to give them up, not oblivious to the reason.

Pairing : Aziraphale x Crowley / GN!Reader x Crowley / GN!Reader x Aziraphale (polyamorous relationship).

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Masterlist : Here

Warnings : Reference to "Red Flags" (Tom Cardy), quick s3x mention, non-con touching (not s3xual), depiction of anxiety, foul language, slow burn, english isn’t my first language.

Words : +3k

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The sweet light of a summer day pierced through the branches of the surrounding trees. The sky was unexpectedly blue, and the air was just starting to heat up, tingling your exposed skin. It was so enjoyable; as you basked in the environment, you were almost forgetting your clients.

You were currently sitting on the storefront awning across the cafe where the date was occurring. It was going really well, and their bond was amazing too. It took you six years to find your client's perfect match. You won't deny the fact that you were picky; however, you weren't going to apologise for it either. If your clients had to spend their whole lives with someone, you should at least try not to pair them up with the most infuriating person that God ever made.

But dang, you had to admit, she was fantastic ! They were literally made for each other. They were so in sync, it was truly adorable. When two people were obviously made for each other, it was your duty to make sure Eternity would welcome both of them. Never to be apart. You rubbed your stretched-skinned right arm.

Ooh, you're going to get so much love from this, your numbers gonna skyrocket...

You send a wave of curiosity your client's way, inciting him to question her more; the more interest he shows in her, the more pleased she'll be. He reached out and rested his hand on hers.

"By the way, do you have a favourite film ?" He asked, eager to see if they also had the same cinematographic tastes. She was so cultured and sophisticated; it was really refreshing to encounter someone of her kind. Yeah, she was one of a kind, alright. Oh, how could you have foreseen what she was about to answer ?

"Oh yes, just basically the best movie of all ! A masterpiece of art, really. You may have heard of it." She was trying to hide just how much she was yearning to scream the name of that movie. Anxious even, for some reason.

"Mmh. Interstellar ?" He tried to guess playfully. But she was jubilant; you knew she wouldn't be able to play along. You frowned, becoming fairly worried, wondering if she would implode.

"Mh-hm ! Wrong !" She giggled, ecstatic. Now you're just scared. You gulped in sync with the client as she stood up and slammed her hands on the metal table. As she exclaimed, finally freed from her own guilt, you thought that some people should have a warning of their own. For the good of society.

"It's Human Centipede !" She clapped and beamed.

Oh, for the love of God... Obviously, your guy was rightfully alarmed since he believed he'd never see his mom again. You left your perch and flew their way; right now, you had to prevent him from running away. Both of your hands settled on his shoulder.

"Custom disguise was truly a highlight, but I mostly liked it for the plot." How can someone so cute fill you with so much dread ? Although your hold was already firm, you couldn't help but twist Arlo's shoulders. Yes, Arlo was his name, but he was closer to Denver, personality-wise.

"I'm not quite familiar with the plot, actually." Oh, you poor unfortunate soul. He didn't know, or maybe he'd rather live in full and hurtful denial his entire life than relive that abominable day when his soul was shattered into a million pieces... Mmh, he probably just didn't know.

"In a nutshell, a German doctor sews three people's asses to their mouths." Her wide brown eyes seemed to belong to the deadliest apex predator. Send help, please. Blinking was out of the question; turn your eyes away for a second, and she'll stab you right in the throat. You darted your eyes towards the butter knife. You exclaimed sharply and miraculously removed it. Better safe than sorry.

You exhaled; you felt so puzzled right now. Every human deserves love, despite having a passion for obscure and particular forms of art. But was this truly the best person for him ? The last thing you wanted was their misery. What if her interests were real signs of psychopathy ? Of future abuse ? She didn't give the impression of abusive behaviour.

You squinted your eyes and started analysing her heart through your own. Contrary to humans, your heart was nested in the very centre of your chest and could be used as a filter. Usually you'd pick up the scent—yes, every emotion had a smell, and thankfully it was faint when you weren't using your heart—guide it towards your chest, and find what you were looking for. Your heart is a great multi-function machine and an amazing tool to achieve your goals; you were thankful for it.

A relieved sigh passed your lips when you didn't sense any brutality or cruelty. And what you felt was passion, ambition, eagerness to start something new, quite a bit of lust, and straight-up horniness.

Mmh, you had to admit that this demon of lust was a talented lad.

"The narrative of character growth comes from a genius mind ! The Human Centipede is a wonderful tour de force; you should watch it. Or, we could watch it together, and I'll show all the little details."

You rolled your eyes and smirked. She was just quirky, but she was looking forward to hitting it off with him. But, still, you wanted it to be his choice; you wouldn't force someone into a relationship and spend eternity with someone they didn't belong with. But it might be the only true relationship they will ever have. You looked over to him and were honestly surprised to see him blush and watch her with such attention. Alright. You shrugged. His mind was sent.

You nodded, even though you knew he couldn't see you. You flew away, leaving enough distance to let them take off themselves. You stretched your arm, aimed, and silently hoped it was not morbid curiosity on his part. And finally shot.

Yay ! Right in the hearts!

Nice shot; you praised yourself.

They flinched and smiled brightly. The deal is sealed. Suddenly, the clocks in the watchmaker store struck eleven a.m. You struggle to swallow. Alright, here goes nothing.

You went down to the street corner and called out the invisibility spell. You walked casually through the street but couldn't help but overhear the lovebirds conversation.

"My dream wedding would 100% be themed "Human Centipede"." She laughed so joyfully. Everyone around was looking so distraught but didn't dare say anything. Mmh.

"That would be so cool! Imagine just how much we could save on the catering bill." He burst out in laughter; it was hilarious.

Good luck with that, Adriel...

And that's another wedding you will not attend. Thank God they weren't in your department anymore.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You had arrived before Aziraphale, so you would have time to report to Chamuel. Yep, the Archangel of Love himself. No pressure... You weren't the same rank as Aziraphale; he was a Principality. You ? Well, not anymore. You were simply under the order of an Archangel, not having a specific rank, really... Jophiel was your boss, to be exact, Chamuel's subordinate and bounded. So meeting up just one Archangel was already a big deal.

You rode the escalator while poking random fingers on your chest to calm your nerves and erase all of your emotions. You hoped they wouldn't notice the change. You hoped Chamuel didn't show up during the reunion concerning the Anti-Christ. You hoped that everything would be alright.

You exhaled for a long time, entering the endless building of light. Steadily, you made your way towards your bosses. Impassive. Calm. You spotted Chamuel and your principality, and you stopped a few feet away.

"Hello Y/N ! How are you today ?" What a dashing smile he had—too white to be human. His deep green eyes were scanning your own. His attention was nerve-wracking.

"I am fine; thank you, Chamuel." Your tone was as neutral as you could manage. Your posture was rigid, trying to stay as still as possible.

"I too hope you two are doing well."

"We are, thank you... Now, how's your heart ? Has it caused you any problems ?" His pale hand suddenly patted your mid-chest, too rough for your liking. You flinched but didn't dare say anything. Mmh. Behind him, Jophiel was looking at you up and down, keeping her distance. She still gave you a brief, tight smile.

"I am fine, thank you." You sounded straight-up robotic.

"Good !" He clapped his hands together and shook them. He took his place beside the dark-blond angel, his vivid blond hair harmonising with hers.

"Your recent results have been quite impressive, Y/N. Very good fuel for the upcoming war". Jophiel praised you while never fully looking your way.

You simply bowed your head, despite how geedy you actually felt. She didn't praise a lot, so you were delighted.

"Even from just a few minutes ago ! You are doing an excellent job. I appreciate the constant flow of love; it almost keeps the Bound together." He laughed heartily. You bowed your head again; you knew he didn't mean it.

The Bound is what holds everything together. Literaly everything. Earth, humans, animals ect. And Love is the fuel it needs to thrive. But when Armageddon starts, all cupids shall stop the love, let the Bound unfold, and fight along side the other angels, filled with the... ugh, power of Love. So cheesy... Help.

"Our sources have also confirmed the punishment of two demons who were prohibited from working on Earth for the remaining years; great job ! The least nuisance in the way, the better.."

Despite his sinister aura, he did appreciate your work. You just couldn't bring yourself to be happy about it.

"Now !" He slapped his hand on your shoulder and made you turn around. You grunted quietly. "I believe you must attend another meeting, right ? I wouldn't want you to be late. Go on." He pushed you forward, and you had to catch yourself before reuniting with the floor.

"So... Darachiel and Requiel are up next..." Jophiel said it absent-mindedly, already forgetting your encounter.

Brief and concise, exactly what you prayed for. As you were leaving, you passed Darachiel and Requiel, on their way to their report. They observed you from afar, doing their best not to get too close to you. You just stared right in front of you. You didn't want to hear their gossip. It was almost as if their mouths had only been designed to talk behind your back. You teeth clenched. Focus.

You'll just have to deal with three more archangels, convince them the boy is turning into a saint, and hope they will not mention your role as a cupid. It didn't really bother me that Azirphale and Crowley might find out about your job; it's just that you were quite... private and wanted to make sure they wouldn't realise what your mission was. Be cautious.

You didn't want to lie to them. You sighed. Nevertheless, you comforted yourself, remembering that you wouldn't be alone against them.

Still, your heart echoed through your ears; the drumming was hurting your ribs and chest, like every fibre of your bones wanted to crawl their way out of your throat. You kept walking. Your breath was laboured, and your eyes were watering, blurring the awful images that rolled before you. Your gaze fell down, shielding yourself from the memories and those fucking intrusive fights. Mmh..

"Y/N ?"

The sweetest feather touch grazed your forearm, the concerned voice abruptly grounding you back into the dazzling reality of Heaven. Lost, you revolved slowly, and your pleading eyes searched for reassurance.

"Oh, Y/N..." Aziraphale whispered softly to not startle you.

"I'm sorry, I just.. I've never..-" You had to hold back a sob. The blond shushed, caressing the side of your arms.

"I know, dear... It's a lot." He smiled at you, tender. He delicately lifted your chin to meet your eyes. "But I'm right beside you; you won't have to face them on your own. You are the most intrepid angel I've met; you will blow us all away!" He jested.

"Mmh." You gave him a sheepish smile for an answer.

Angel ? No, he was quite devilish, alright.

"Come now." He gestured forward into the meeting zone, not touching you. He walked beside you. "It's going to be just fine. I must confess, I've fooled them quite a lot before." His confession caused me to smirk as well.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Mmh..." Aziraphale moaned, his mouth full of cream. You never thought you could bless someone through your Parfait. Your recipe was Aziraphale's favourite dessert, which he desperately tried to copy but could never get right.

Your afternoon was spent at Aziraphale's bookshop, sitting cross-legged on the comfiest couch, reading your latest acquisition. The anxiety was slowly draining its way out your veins. You turned another page and smiled softly. You have loved astronomy ever since you were created. You didn't have as much knowledge about space as Crowley, but the beauty enticed you so much that you couldn't help but be saddened by its upcoming destruction. You also cooked for the angel to really thank him.

"It's truly fantastic, Y/N." He took another spoonful. "You're sure you don’t want to share your secret ? Confess and feel even better." He teased.

"Confess, huh ? I should rather put a copyright on my recipe, you little thief."

Eden, thankfully on your side, was pushing Aziraphale's thigh, sticking her tongue out to get a lick.

"No, Eden, we were not talking about you- No !" He lifted his arm way up. If he thought it would stop your mini cow, he was deeply mistaken. She put all her efforts into her desperate attempt to steal the sweet, climbing on his leg. Aziraphale made a muffled squeal; Eden had her hooves digging in his flesh.

"Help..." He begged in a strained voice.

You giggled and got up. You took your time, really, dusting a shelf and bouncing quickly on your left leg. His eyes were almost stern as he observed your smug face. You waited a few seconds. You smiled innocently, petted Eden's head, and snatched the glass from his hand.

"Oh ! Y/N !" Alright, that gasp was just comical. Your lips let out a joyful giggle, and you jogged away, tasting the dessert with your fingertip.

"Mh.. Yum ! What a talented cook I am." You contemplated your work. Still, you saw the two hungry fellas in the corner of your eye. Too emotionally drained to play, you turned around and handed back the dessert.

"Thank you." He shook his head but smiled gratefully.

Eden nudged your right arm, demanding a treat as well. As you tossed it to her, you spotted Aziraphale stare your way. You stared back, confused. Caught in the act, he didn't back down and directly asked you what was on his mind.

"Did you hurt your arm ? I never noticed that scar before."

Oh.

You looked down your right arm and saw the tiniest bit of scar sneaking out of your pulled-up sleeve. You covered it back down.

You never thought he would notice that.

"I got cut by a demon claw. It never really healed properly."

"Maybe I could help... Let me see." He reached for your arm. You didn't mean to flinch, but still, you backed away.

"It's okay, Aziraphale. Really, it's fine."

You were charging your charm to chase him off, but the door suddenly burst open, and Crowley entered like he owned the place. He noticed the two of you, and his face went stolid. The three of you stood here for a minute or two before the angel broke the weird silence.

"Hello Crowley, How was your day ?"

The demon found his scrunched expression back.

"Awful. As expected... Some people just apparently can't believe that humans can be bad enough to end up in hell without having to be murderers! Ugh."

He sat nonchalantly on his designated chair and went limp to try and get rid of all of his frustration. He hated having to visit Hell, as one could understand. He didn't belong there. You don’t belong anywhere. You cringed. Mmh. He weakly waved in your direction.

"How about you guys ?" He hummed.

"Mmh, well, Azi' will tell you. I should get going !" You forced a smile and reached for Eden, petting her to calm her. You felt Aziraphale's eyes on you while Crowley tensed up slightly.

"Already ? Have I scared you away or something ?" He asked.

"Oh, don't be silly, Crowley; of course not ! Eden's tired; I've got to put her to bed."

"Well, can't she use the backroom- ?"

"Oh, by the way." Whoosh, quick, unnoticeable charm. "Here ! I finished it !" You threw your book on his lap, earning a grunt. "I hope you'll show me a real one day." The suggestion was true, but you knew it wouldn't happen. You didn't have the right to. Mmh.

"Bye bye ! Smooches !" You sang your way out of the bookshop under the concerned and puzzled looks of your clients.

You waited until you were around the corner before finally collapsing against the facade. Overwhelming—yeah, that's the perfect word to summarise your day. You brought your hands up to your head and rubbed your face. What am I so upset about? Why was your heart aching, burning your skin away? Why did their stares and comments feel like daggers in your back? You just wish you weren't alone. The light did nothing to warm up your frozen face as tears threatened to roll down. Mmh...

No... you didn't want to go back to this... You just couldn't.

The firm grip you had on your shirt snatched a bit of skin and twisted it. It had at least the benefit of shaking you enough to act.

You exhaled sharply and slapped your own cheek to knock some sense into yourself. You have no time. Eden was still rubbing her head on your leg when you bent down to kiss her forehead.

Alright, now shit was about to get real.

You straightened up, activated your blindness spell, and manifested your bow and arrows. Taking off from the ground and positioning yourself to get a good view of your clients You aimed with your right arm and lined up. Your breath was taken away by the glimpse of a scar that shone in the disappearing sun. You frowned, growled, and struck. Upper arms.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I guess we all have to learn about our own back story, right Y/N ?

Anyway ! I promise we will see more of the ineffable husbands in the next part. You just needed a little bit of time for yourself.

Hope you enjoyed it ! Bye !

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Tag list : @legendary-maddie @kpop-athena @drugs-for-memes @emo-queer-boi @cunning-girl @mochikofi @brain-has-left @cup-of-tee007 @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @somekale08 @liyacreate @msyolocat-blog

[draconicsparkle]

So @snivyartjpeg shared their warmup doodles in the discord server of a kokolight vampire au. And I swear, as soon as I saw it, my brain instantly desired to make something based off of it. How could I not?

Not much to say on this honestly. I just wanted to write something fun based on the cute doodles! So enjoy!

Vampires existed. They lived and breathed in the same world as humans. That was an undeniable fact. Yakou knew this and accepted this.

But what he had not expected was for one of his own employees to be one.

His first clue had been a few bloody tissues left in the trash can. As far as he knew, no one had been having intense nosebleeds aside from possibly Desuhiko. But no clients had come to the agency and no… magazines were here. So the possibility of the disguise detective being the bleeder was minimal.

So at that point, he tried to subtly observe his employees a little more.

He instantly ruled Fubuki out as the one hiding their true status, as she couldn’t lie to save her life. Desuhiko was ruled out too, as he was not very good at convincing. So he surely wouldn’t have been able to talk someone into providing blood. And Yuma? Obviously not, as the small rookie detective couldn’t hurt a fly.

Which left two contenders. Halara and Vivia.

This was where the search got a little more difficult. Those two were incredibly guarded individuals, not letting much slip past their walls. They could keep secrets no problem, and their poker faces were solid.

But after some watching, Yakou thought he nailed it down.

Vivia Twilight.

It seemed obvious once he connected the dots. The man always appeared to be sleeping during the day, as vampires were typically nocturnal creatures. His skin was pale, like he didn’t have great blood circulation as vampires tended to suffer from. His ability to be incredibly stealthy when he needed to. And the constant insistence that he wanted to die someday. Perhaps a mindset he got from needing to drain people’s lifeblood to survive.

And in addition to figuring this out, he also discovered who Vivia must have been feeding off of. Yuma Kokohead.

The two of them had gotten close since they started working together. It was fairly common to see them next to each other, whether it be naps, talks, or eating regular food. So he was certainly easy to access as a food source. Yuma also was fairly agreeable and could be convinced easily. He always wore that navy blue scarf, concealing his neck and potentially hiding the bite marks.

It all fit in Yakou’s mind. Surely he had figured it out.

But he couldn’t put the thought to bed until he had concrete proof. So he devised a little scheme.

It had started with sending Halara, Fubuki and Desuhiko out to do some jobs. He also claimed that he had errands to run, so he gave instructions to the last two. “Stay here in the agency and keep watch over the place. If clients come in, entertain them until I return. Understood?”

Yuma nodded with a beaming smile. “We won’t let you down, Chief!” Vivia hummed his agreement from the fireplace.

“Okay then. I’ll be back in an hour,” he told them. Then he left the submarine.

To his credit, he did go do some errands to kill time. But he returned to the sub after half an hour. He knew that by giving them a time frame, they might try something while they believed themselves to be alone with no interruptions. So it was the best time to try and get his proof.

He carefully unlocked the hatch, descending into the hull and turning around. The lights had been turned off, but the sound of clothes rustling was audible. Vampires preferred darkness over light, so this was a good sign. But he needed more information. So he took some sneaky steps towards the room’s opening, until he was just barely hidden. Then he suddenly rounded the corner.

And what he found there had not been what he expected.

Oh, there was a vampire in his submarine alright, but the glowing red eyes and bloody fangs didn’t belong to who he had thought. Yuma’s eyes shone in the dark as they turned towards him while perched on Vivia’s lap. His tongue darted out to lap up a tiny trickle of blood that was dripping down his chin.

Meanwhile, Vivia had been sitting upright on the sofa, head tilted to the side and his neck exposed with several bite marks now on display with his coat off. The lazy detective opened his eyes upon feeling the vampire stop, then caught sight of the flabbergasted Yakou. “Oh, hey Chief,” he called out, acting as though nothing was wrong.

“Wha-? But… I thought… Yuma’s the vampire?!” he managed to exclaim, running a hand through his frazzled hair.

“Uh… sorry? I wasn’t really sure… how to tell you,” the rookie said with an embarrassed tone. “But it’s okay! Vivia helps me with my blood urges, so there’s nothing to fear!”

Yakou rubbed his temples, trying to not get overly upset that his theory had been the complete opposite. “It’s fine, it’s fine. If you got it under control, then I see no reason to worry.” He sighed, then reached for the light switch. “Turning on the lights now. Close your eyes.”

He waited until the red glow vanished from the room, then flipped the switch. He grabbed the grocery bag that he had left near the hatch and entered the room again, ready to discuss things with his employees.

But when he returned, Yuma had somehow vanished from sight. Only Vivia was in the room, busy with tying a dark bandage around his collection of bite marks. “Uh… where’s Yuma?” he asked, very confused on where the rookie had disappeared to.

Vivia smiled. “He gets sleepy after a meal. And… he insists on resting with me.”

Yakou was about to insist on a better explanation when he noticed a new shade of lilac on the taller detective’s hair. Walking closer revealed something quite endearing.

A small purple vampire bat with Yuma’s signature hair antenna was nestled into the green hair. He let out a yawn, then snapped his jaws closed and snuggled deeper into the locks. That, Yakou would admit, was adorable.

“I see. Well, I’ll leave you two to rest, I guess. I’ll try to be quiet,” he told them, then finishing the journey to the kitchen to put the groceries away. He did try to keep his promise, and worked as silently as possible.

Once everything was put away, he peeked into the lobby again. Vivia had retreated to the fireplace, the tiny bat still in his hair. Both looked dead to the world.

That was good, he supposed. Better to let them get some relaxation time while they could before the next big job. And the sight was enough to heal his wounded pride as a detective.

He turned his eyes away from the pair, settling down in his chair and opening the newspaper. Time to get back to business.

[dragon-creates]

A Good Luck Charm (for funnybunny writing week)

Read on AO3

In a world where the fae walk among mortals, a disguised jackrabbit named Jax finds a mortal named Pomni alone at a park. Feeling sympathy for her struggles, Jax casts a small good luck charm for a few hours to help her. However, even if the charm lasted for a day, it wouldn't be the last time that the fae saw the human.

IMMA BETA READ THIS IN THE MORNING I PROMISE JUST PLEASE TAKE THIS ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE WRITTEN ANYTHING!!!!!

The fae had always existed. They have been right in front of you, yet you never even spared a glimpse. Whether it was a siren hiding beneath the murky waters, or a pixie hopping from flower to flower, they’re not so human features were hidden from the everyday mortals.

Years ago, the king and queen of the fae realm had discovered a portal to the worlds of mortals. They had considered keeping this secret to themselves, knowing that they were some fae with tricks up their sleeves that aimed to do more harm than good. However, they know someone would find out eventually, and cause more uproar.

And so, a law was stated: those who wanted to enter the fae realm were to use a glamour to hide their magical forms and use minimum to none of their powers unless it was an emergency. The law had been strict and for good reason, many fae had tested to see what they could get away with and had found themselves behind the prison walls of the castle prison.

It wasn’t to say no magic could be use. Whether it was the glamour spells themselves, or a chant to help them through everyday tasks like cooking. But under no circumstances could they perform curses, hexes, or use a spell to own a human’s name and soul.

It was surprising to everyone that the fae that strongly agreed with the king and queen’s law was none other than Jax the jackrabbit.

The werebeast had proven many times how mischievous he could be with his spells. Whether it was using it to replace hair cleanser with syrup, temporally turn his fellow fae into different species using illusions, or creating booby traps with the magical material he had. It was definitely whiplash with how much Jax approved of the royal couple’s decision, not even their own son Prince Caine agreed.

Yes, Jax was well… an ass. But he knew that interfering with mortals was an unfair power imbalance, and he himself knew all too well about that. Werebeasts were always looked down upon by other fae, especially jackrabbits and how so many fae saw them as ‘weak’. Maybe it was why Jax acted the way he did, to prove those stereotypes wrong. But he knew from experience the type of entitlement people felt when seeing something they saw as insignificant to them.

While he did pull a few tricks here and there in the mortal realm, it was usually something small like spilling a drink on someone’s clothes or turning a possession they had invisible – it was always funny seeing them run around looking for it. And he always made sure to do these misdeads to people who actually deserved it, whether it was overpowered rich man talking down to a waiter, or an entitled customer demanding a refund at Ragatha’s bakery.

Speaking of which, was where the disguised jackrabbit found himself. Many fae had started up their own lives in the human realm, whether it was falling in love, starting a business or even wanting a change of pace from the chaos of the fae realm. Once of those being Ragatha, an enchanted ragdoll come to life. Her kind and gentle nature had to be even sweeter than the treats she baked for the mortals who visited her shop.

She and Jax had been friends throughout their childhood, with the former acting like an older sister to the rabbit. At times they butted heads, with Ragatha often times being quite overbearing and Jax too mischievous. But when push came to shove, they always supported one another, just like how any sibling would.

The ragdoll handed a small paper bag to Jax over the counter, her glamour hiding her plush form and instead showed a tall woman with curly red hair and an eye patch covering one of her deep brown eyes.

Jax nodded to her in thanks, handing over his cash as well as putting a few paper notes in the tip jar beside her cash register. His usual purple fur was replaced with dark brown skin, along with brown eyes and black dreads pulled into a short ponytail. It was nearly Ragatha’s lunch break, so Jax liked to use that time beforehand to make sure that no ill-willed mortals bothered her with useless demands or complaints they made up on the spot.

The day had been peaceful, the customers pleasant and Ragatha been sickly sweet as usual. She had even prepared Jax two ham and cheese croissants for his own lunch. “Sorry about the extra one, I overdid in the kitchen earlier but at least you’ve got something to eat,” her smile was apologetic.

Jax waved his wand in dismissal, “All good rags, I’m sure Zooble wouldn’t mind trying this.”

“Yeah. I think I’ve gotta put out some job applicants soon. It’s getting a little hard baking and sorting out the register” she huffed tiredly, untying her apron. “Well, I’m closing up for the lunch hour. Are you gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Jax grinned. “Besides, what could I possibly do while I’m alone dollface?”

Ragatha whipped round with a scowl, “Jax you better behave! And I told you not to call me that!”

The man snickered, pointing a finger to his cheek, “Come on! You like that nickname! Besides, you always know I don’t get caught.”

Ragatha growled, her face softening with concern, “Not yet. You don’t know who might catch you when you least expect it. I know the law says to use minimal magic, but I don’t want you to push it.”

“Hey, I practiced my spells for years now. I’ll be fine,” Jax gave her a reassuring smile. “Besides, the ones I do it to are too self-absorbed to notice anything.”

“Just be careful, please?” Ragatha’s brows furrowed. “You never know who might catch you, mortal or not.”

It wasn’t a paranoid fear. Both of them knew what would happen if the wrong person would catch fae magic. Whether it was a mortal who could abuse that knowledge, or another fae who could use it for blackmail and benefit themselves while the recipient suffers. Jax knew this all too well and was why he well versed himself with magic and the concerns that came with it when entering the mortal realm. Despite his pranks, he was always careful.

“I’ll be fine rags, nothing has stopped me yet, besides,” Jax smiled, turning slightly darker with his next sentence, a hint of his true form’s Cheshire grin behind the glamour spell. “They don’t know just how dangerous I can get.”

“Ew, put that away,” Ragatha squirmed with a laugh. “That smile always freaks me out when you use it with your human face.”

Jax snorted, his smile returning to pearly teeth once again, “Sorry dollface, you know I like messing with you.”

“Alright, out!” Ragatha chortled, throwing a damp towel at him.

Jax let out a yelp as he rushed out of the door, unable to wipe the smile off his face. For all the teasing, he did care for Ragatha like she was truly his sister. Jax shook his head, bringing the paper bag up to his nose and breathed in the delicious scent of the croissant from inside. Ragatha always outdid herself when it came to cooking and baking. With just a sprinkle of magic and a ton of hard work, she made the best pastries on both the fae and mortal realm.

Rolling his shoulders back, he set off towards the town’s park. It was the place that reminded him the most of home, with winding paths, beautiful flora and the sun peaking out of the autumn tree leaves that felt oh so similar to the magical feeling of wandering the enchanted forest back home. It might not be home, but it certainly was beautiful.

It was where he liked to take refuge and eat when he wasn’t pranking anyone, on his usual bench in front of the rippling river. Although when he was walking towards it, it seemed that his usual spot had been occupied instead.  

A short young woman, perhaps in her twenties, with short brown hair and dressed in a long-sleeved blouse and pencil skirt. Her hair was frizzy, sticking out in places, food stains on her shirt and bags under her eyes. She looked exhausted.

However, her eyes were focused on a pencil and paper she clutched in her hands, sketching away without paying mind to any of her surroundings.

Jax raised an eyebrow, now this was certainly new. And whenever something new was plopped onto his lap, he needed to grasp the opportunity to explore it. He slowly stepped towards her, making sure she couldn’t hear him coming before speaking in hushed whisper, “I see you’ve stolen my spot.”

A strangled gasp mixed with a scream left the woman’s mouth, scowling when she found the culprit to her fright, “Dude! What the fuck is wrong with you! Don’t sneak up on people like that!”

Jax couldn’t help but laugh. It was the cheapest trick in the books, but it was still funny as hell. He cleared his throat as he calmed down, “Sorry, couldn’t help it. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

The woman sighed, the frustration leaving her as she mindlessly returned to her drawing, “I haven’t been here in a while. I used to come here all the time before starting my job. Seems like forever ago.”  

The fiery nature that she had displayed fizzled out quickly, like a cheap sparkler from a supermarket. Jax’s brows furrowed, usually someone with an inner fire such as the woman wouldn’t have let out that spark so suddenly. It wasn’t really fun when someone was like that, it took the fun out of it. “Can I?” he pointed to the empty spot beside the bench.

The woman looked up to see what he was doing, giving him a curt nod before Jax sat down beside her.

“So what brings you here now?” Jax asked, becoming more curious for the human.

“Nostalgia and self-pity,” she replied with blunt honesty. Jax had to bite back a laugh, it didn’t feel like the time or place. “It was always my main inspiration for art. I’d get so many ideas and then draw them out the minute I got them. It was always my passion that passed me through my art classes. However art commissions and a childhood dream alone doesn’t help you through college debt. It’s a good thing I’m good with numbers, even if the job that comes with it is soul sucking.”

Ah yes, the average mortal office job. From how others described it, Jax would have been convinced that it was an unholy cursed fortress that stole the spirits of anyone who entered. And while it wasn’t quite what he thought it would be, he didn’t want to spend time in one of those buildings to find out. This woman had the heart of a warrior for making it this long. “Why not try and continue your passion for art if you love it so much?” Jax asked. “Why let this job stop you?”

The woman sniffed, “As if I haven’t tried before. But corporate greed is a strong foe. They’ll try and do anything than hire and pay genuine talent these days. You have no idea how disheartening it is to see something you’ve poured your entire life into be thrown away just because someone is too entitled to give you a chance.” She groaned, wiping away a frustrated tear. “God I’m insane, why am I telling a random stranger this?!”

“Why wouldn’t you? I’m very charming,” he gave her a grin, trying to bring back some of the charm to see if it could lift the situation. Judging by her growl it didn’t. “Ignore what I just said. Look, the point is, you’ve sunk yourself to the lowest point that you could ever imagine by venting to a random guy you’ve met at the park.”

“Wow, yeah, thanks for the reminder,” she rolled her eyes.

Jax cringed, yeah he understood how that sounded, “Okay, ignore that as well. Right now, you’re at a point in your life where you’re letting yourself be miserable. That doesn’t sound like a life worth living.”

The woman sighed, her face softening as she brought her knees up on the bench and hugged them, “Yeah, I know. But what other path is there for me to take?”

“One that makes you happy,” Jax stated.

“Easier said than done,” the woman looked towards him.

“Is it?” Jax tilted his head. This mortal was definitely stubborn. “Or have you wallowed so much to not realise that a better path is there for you?”

That seemed to have struck a nerve if the look on the woman’s face said anything. She looked back down to her notepad, the flow of lines weaving together to begin a possible masterpiece. “I don’t think I’ve actually finished a project since my job,” she whispered.

Jax heart panged. The only downside within the mortal world was the way that some humans would tear others so low to the point of being destroyed all for an extra coin. It was extremely disruptive to his carefree personality and made him feel sympathetic to random strangers. Like this woman.

Although it seemed that his words were getting through to her, with the way her eyes started to gleam as she looked over her sketch. Jax wasn’t one to interfere with mortal lives, but this woman…her sad eyes was something that pulled on his heartstrings in way he never felt before.

He quietly snapped his fingers, the branches and leaves parting above the little wooden tree canopy above them to reveal the sun sparkling on the lake in front of them. Jax’s pulse quickened when he saw how the woman’s eyes shone, gripping her pencil tighter as she began to draw again, quicker than before.

It was just a simple good luck spell, nothing more and nothing noticeable. Just something to help her out. He was only doing it because it wasn’t fun when humans were sad. Yes, that was it. Nothing else at all. It didn’t stop him from pulling the spare croissant out of his paper bag. “They gave me an extra with my order,” he said, holding it out in front of her. “Want one?”

She shook her head, “No thanks, I’m not hun-” The growl of her stomach interrupted her, making her blush.  

Jax snickered before breaking out into a full belly laugh, making the woman’s face flush even more red. “What’s that about artists never taking a break? I always thought that was a myth,” Jax snorted.

“Oh haha,” the woman furrowed her brows, but wasn’t able to hold back her smile.

Jax froze. Oh gods…her smile was more beautiful than a charm itself.

“Hey, you gonna pass that croissant or what?” she giggled.

“U-uh yeah,” Jax gulped, blinking before handing it to her, taking his out first so she could hold the bag and not get her fingers dirty. “By the way, can I ask what your name is?” Jax always had to be careful when asking a mortal’s name, just so it didn’t result in an ownership spell. He always despised fae who used those spells.

The woman wiped away a crumb from her lips before replying, “I’m Pomni.”

“Pomni…it’s nice to meet you Pomni,” Jax smiled.

“Nice to meet you too…uh what’s your name?” Pomni asked.

“Jax,”

“Well then, Jax, it’s nice to meet you too,” her eyes sparkled before biting into her croissant. She let out a groan at the taste. “Oh my god this is amazing! Where did you get this?!”

Jax’s stomach fluttered, as though she had performed her own spell on him, “Um, my friend Ragatha own a bakery up the street. You should visit it sometime.”

Pomni hummed through her bite, “Maybe I will.”

The two continued their meal in silence. Jax smiled one more time, this mortal surely was interesting. Maybe fate would let them meet again one day.

And it seemed fate was listening, for when Pomni looked at the name of the bakery on the paper bag, she recalled Jax’s words. Or have you wallowed so much to not realise that a better path is there for you?

Maybe he was right. Maybe there was a better path.

.

.

.

It had been a few days since that day at the park, yet Jax couldn’t stop thinking about Pomni. She was like the first chapter of a book, introducing a story that lured him in yet there were the only pages he was given, leaving behind curiosity. But he knew that it wasn’t likely that he would see her again. She was only one mortal out of many.

But still, she was nice.

It was another day, the wind was getting colder and nipping at his cheeks. Winter was getting closer, so he was on his way to Ragatha’s to warm up with food and drink. The bell on top of the door jingled once it Jax opened it, rubbing his hands to try and warm them up, “Hey Rags, I hope I’m not to early. Am I good to have my usual-” He paused, it wasn’t Ragatha behind the register, “Pomni?”

 The woman looked up from the register, pausing from sorting out paper bills to see the familiar man in front of her, “Jax?! Hey, it’s good to see you again.” She wasn’t in the office blouse and skirt like the last time he saw her. Instead, she was in a long cotton skirt with a blue and white checkered shirt with small fluffy sleeves, all tied together with an apron.

Jax wanted to burst, she looked so fucking adorable, “Pomni?! What brings you here?”

“Well, I kinda thought about what you said the other day,” she told him. “And I wanted to come here to see what else they served here. Maybe I was impulsive, but when I heard that Ragatha was hiring someone to take care of the finance part here, I decided to put in my application. Long story short I got the job, quit my old place and now I’m here. The pay is actually really good!”

All part of the fae abilities Jax spoke internally. He knew hat the fae were financially secure, the hobby that came with the job was just a perk. So that meant that most of the pay that was made all went to Pomni, no wonder it was better than her last job.

But she seemed much brighter than last time, no bags under her eyes and her beautiful smile was on full display once again. His heart skipped a beat, she may be mortal but her smile was pure magic.  

“Hey Jax, your order is nearly ready,” Ragatha came out from behind the kitchen, wearing a red version of the shirt Pomni was wearing. “Have you met Pomni? She’s made my life a hell of a lot easier being here. She’s so good with numbers!”

Pomni blushed, shaking her head, “She’s exaggerating. But yeah, we actually met last week at Circlevale park.”

“Oh, you did?” Ragatha turned her head to Jax, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, I was having a rough day but this guy gave me the courage to find a new job,” Pomni gleamed. “Even if he decided to scare me first.”

“Jax!” Ragatha exclaimed, scowling as she put a protective hand on Pomni’s shoulder.

“Hey this is me we’re talking about! What else did ya expect?” His usual Cheshire grin returned.

Pomni turned to Ragatha, “I take it that he’s always like this?”

“Oh you have no idea hun,” Ragatha deadpanned. “He’s lucky he hasn’t been thrown in a ditch yet.”

“Ppphh!” Pomni put a hand over her mouth to hide her laughter, even if it was a poor job doing so.

Even her laugh felt like a chant to him.

Ragatha looked between the two, her face becoming serious as she analysed the way the disguised jackrabbit looked at the human, “Hey Jax, could you come to the back to collect your order? We need to talk.”

Her teeth were grit together. Jax gulped, he was in trouble.

“I’ll be right back Pomni, you just keep doing what you’re doing,” she smiled softly at the girl.

The brunette grinned back, focusing on the register again.

Jax sucked in a breath as Ragatha led him to the kitchen, having a feeling that he knew exactly what she was going to say.

She stopped behind the flour dusted countertop, turning round to him, her face stern like a mother about to scold her child. “You wanna tell me why a human who met you spontaneously quit her job just to work for me? This better be a coincidence and not you trying some new prank on this poor girl!” Ragatha hissed, her voice low and dangerous.  

Jax felt the hair rising on his neck, the ragdoll could be terrifying when she wanted to be, “Okay, I know how this looks. Just hear me out, please.”

Ragatha crossed her arms, motioning for him to continue.

The man let out a sigh of relief, “We did meet at the park the other day, but I swear this isn’t a trick!” He held his hands up in defence. “All I did was a small good luck charm, but nothing that would lead to this! Just to help cheer her up!” Ragatha raised a brow at him. “I swear!”

The redhead crossed her arms, concern lacing her features, “I’m just worried that you might slip up. And I know, I know. You’re always careful. But you’ve met this girl and have casted a luck charm on her, you’ve never done that for anyone before. Even if luck charms aren’t deep spells or dark magic, it’s the fact that you were vulnerable towards this mortal to feel like you had to cast this for her.”

Jax scowled. He knew she wasn’t doing this intentionally but it felt like she was comparing him to Prince Caine. Jax grimaced, just even thinking about Caine made his stomach churn. He was nothing but a leach who felt entitled to owning anything and anyone to do whatever he wanted, disguised over his overly positive persona of a naïve prince who didn’t know any better. At least Jax was upfront about his flaws, and not hiding behind a mask like that disgraceful heir.

“I know you think that, but you’re wrong,” Jax stated. “I cast a luck charm because I don’t believe anyone, mortal or fae, should be oppressed by those who deem themselves above them. I cast the charm, but she left that job on her own accord. She chose to work here on her own accord. She chose to be happy on her own accord. All I did was give her the option and the push.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I know what I’m doing, please. Trust me.”

Ragatha sighed, there was still a voice in the back of her head telling her that something was going to happen, but she didn’t want to be clouded with judgement in case it affected Pomni or Jax. “Ok,” she looked up. “But if anything happens I will chop you up and serve you as rabbit stew. Are we clear?”

Jax went stiff, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple, “Yes ma’am”

“Good,” Ragatha picked up a scone and placed it into a paper bag, handing it to Jax. “Now go pay up with my new assistant. And don’t forget to leave her a tip.”

“You wound me Rags, I’m decent enough to tip,” Jax put a hand to his chest in mock hurt.

Ragatha rolled her eyes, pushing him back out to the front before going back to baking.

Jax exited the kitchen, stepping back out into the main area as he faced the brunette once again. She was serving another customer once of the desserts in the display area before typing up his check and sending him on his way. The way she was quick to piece together the math of the items picked, not even needing to use the automatic calculator on the register, relying on her mind alone. Ragatha was right, she was good with numbers.

Pomni turned to him, “You all figured out?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jax nodded. “Ragatha just needed me for something.”

“Okay, what’s your order for today?” she asked, straightening her back professionally.

“Just this scone,” Jax placed the bag on the scale next to the register.

“And your total is…two dollars,” she told him. “Are you paying cash or card?”

He fished out his card from his bag, maybe sure to place a ten inside of her tip jar. Pomni smiled one last time at him. At that moment, when his heart skipped a beat when seeing that smile did he decide that he wanted to see her again, “Um, are you busy this week? By any chance?”

The mortal was caught off-guard by the question, but still answered anyway, “Oh, well I do have my shifts here Monday to Friday, but I have weekends off.”

“Well, would you like to…um,” Jax rubbed the back off his neck. Mortal movies made this look so easy!

“Would I like to what?” Pomni grinned, slightly mischievous.

Little minx, “Hang out?” Jax suggested. “Grab a coffee? See a movie? Go back to the park again?”

Pomni’s cheeks turned pink at the implication of the question, “Are you asking me on a date?”

Jax cleared his throat, “Would you like it to be a date?”

“I don’t know, do you?” her grin was back.

Jax smirked, two can play at that game, “I do actually. I wanna take this beautiful girl in front of me on the date of her choice and treat her with the respect she deserves.” He leaned down, his confidence returning. “How’s that little lady?”

Pomni flushed, not expecting the sudden boldness, “I-I can go to the park on Sunday afternoon.” She smiled shyly, yet excited at the same time.

Jax felt his heartbeat quicken, this was really happening, “Great. Would you like to give me your number?”

She held out her hand, with Jax placing his phone into it as she typed the number into his contact. He had to stop himself from jumping for joy as he placed it back into his pocket. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

“See you Sunday,” Pomni repeated, folding her hands together.

Jax waved to her as he stepped out the door, a new warmth rushing through him despite the winter chill. Sunday couldn’t come fast enough.

.

.

.

They spent the entire winter together, visiting each other, finding out their hobbies, making messes in the kitchen whenever Jax tried to teach Pomni to cook (yet failing every time), but their main spot had to be the very park they met in.

Jax couldn’t deny it, he was falling in love with Pomni. And he was falling hard. But he couldn’t help it, she had him under a spell, and he didn’t care one bit.

When spring finally came, they found themselves more at the park and on the bench where he first found her. Overtime, Pomni had become more comfortable with touch around Jax, with her currently resting her legs over his lap and resting her head on his shoulder and Jax wrapped his arms around her.

“Can I tell you something?” Pomni murmured, picking up his hand and playing with his fingers.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Jax intertwined their fingers together.

“I think you made my life better by meeting you,” she admitted. “I can’t describe it, but after meeting you, everything just felt so much clearer. I think you’re pretty amazing.”

Jax chuckled, holding her closer, “I think you’re amazing too.”

“And I think my art has become more special,” she told him. She sat up, “I have something else to tell you…I’m submitting my art into an art exhibition next month.”

Jax’s eyes widened, still holding her in his arms as he stood, “Pomni that’s awesome! You did it!”

“Jax oh my god! Put me down you idiot!” Pomni laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck, unable to contain their shared excitement.

Jax had fallen so deeply in love with her. He wanted to do everything with her, help her build her dreams, smile as they fell asleep together, kiss her as though she was his last breath of air. But first, he had to tell her about his true origins. But not now, they would enjoy this moment now.

Both of them giggled and cheered, so wrapped up in their own little world of joy. Their own little magical bubble…

That neither of them realized a pair of eyes watching them afar…

.

.

.

Jax looked in the mirror as he fixed a stray piece of hair back into place. Today was the day he was going to tell Pomni the truth about himself. He wanted to tell her how he felt so badly, but he knew he couldn’t have an honest relationship with her without mentioning the fae part of himself. All he had to hope was that she still saw him as who he is, without panicking about his rabbit features.

She would be here any minute, he had already had the coffee machine turned on as well as her usual snack whenever she visited. He wanted to make sure she felt comfortable before saying anything. To take the pressure off her.

Knock, knock

Jax sucked in a breath, she was here. He brushed off his shirt one more time before answering the door. He opened it, expecting to see the same smiling brunette before welcoming her in, but this time, she looked terrified.

“Hey,” he reached a hand towards her, pulling back when he saw her flinch. “Is everything okay?”

“I-I,” she stammered, walking into the apartment. “It’s hard to explain. It all happened so quickly and I didn’t know what was happening and I don’t know what to do or where to go and I’m freaking out I’m really scared right now-”

Jax shut the door, leading her to the couch and sitting her down. “It’s okay, breathe, I’m here,” he started a breathing exercise, one that would help her calm down. Once he saw her repeating them, he got up to make her usual coffee, grabbing a small bag of popcorn before sitting bag down again.

He placed the warm mug in her hands, letting her take a sip as her nerves became steadier, “Feeling a bit better?”

Pomni nodded slowly.

“Good, take another breath and tell me what happened,” he told her, already listening.

“It’s gonna sound stupid,” she muttered.

“Don’t worry, you’re talking to the king of stupid here,” Jax nudged her shoulder lightly, that got a quirk of a smile from her, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

“You won’t believe me,” her voice was barely a whisper.

“Hey,” he took her hand in his. “Trust me when I say I’ll believe anything you say.”

She gulped, taking a breath, “I was walking through the park yesterday and I saw a man by the lake. I though nothing of it at first before he reached out to me, asking for help. I went over to him and it looked like he was crying. I got scared, I didn’t want to leave him so I asked if he was alright. He then asked for my name, so I told him…that’s when he smiled. Then he wasn’t a man anymore, but he was a body with teeth and eyes for a head!”

Jax heart plummeted, no.

“I looked around but it was like no one could see us,” she sniffled. “That was when he told me that he owned me, that I was his…fiancé. I thought this was a weird dream, that I would wake up soon. But then I saw this ring on my finger.” She showed Jax. “I tried getting it off, but each attempt was so painful, and it kept proving that I definitely wasn’t dreaming. He said I had some time but he’ll be back for our wedding.”

She looked back up to Jax, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“Jax you have to believe me!” Pomni’s voice trembled. “I don’t know what to do! I don’t know if he’s watching me right now! I’m so scared!”

“Hey, hey,” he cradled her face in his hands. “I believe you.”

“Y-you do?” Pomni’s voice trembled. “How?”

“Because…” Jax grimaced. Of all the ways he wanted to tell her, this was far from what he had in mind. “Because I’m one of them.”

Before Pomni could say another word, Jax’s human features melted away. In his place and clothes stood a tall, fit rabbit like man stood in front of her. Pomni’s words were stuck in her throat, the feeling of his fur hands on her cheeks was the only thing helping her stay grounded. “T-that day in the park…did you trick me too?!”

“No!” Jax winced as she flinched at his volume. “No, all I did that day was cast a small good luck charm that would last a few hours. But that was it. Pomni, everything we have done together was all your choice. I know you’re scared and confused and you have every right to be. But everything we’ve done together was the truth. I was gonna tell you, believe me I was. But not like this, and I’m so sorry you had to find out this way.”

“T-the man who did this, who was he?” Pomni asked.

Jax’s eyes became turn, a bitter taste on his tongue, “Caine. He’s the prince from my realm. The reason why no one could see you was because of a cloaking spell. That’s how he managed to force the engagement on you.”

“Your realm?” Pomni tilted her head.

“The fae realm, where people like me reside,” Jax explained. “Caine is the prince there. But he shouldn’t have the authority to do this.”

Pomni trembled, tears leaking from her eyes again, “Oh god, am I trapped?”

“No,” Jax’s voice was low as he shook his head. “I’m gonna get you out of this, there has to be something going on. I’m not gonna let Caine do this to the woman I love-”

He froze.

He said it.

Pomni’s tearful eyes widened, her breath hitching.

Jax’s didn’t move, he didn’t know what to do. But he had said it, and that word wasn’t something he could reverse like a spell. He wanted to apologize, for adding more stress onto her shoulder. But he was interrupted by a pair of lips on his.

Pomni’s kiss was quick, like she was testing the waters, “I’m still confused, scared and mad. But…I love you too.”

Jax let out a shaking breath of relief mixed with joy, pressing his forehead to hers, “I’m getting you out of this engagement.”

“But what if Caine-”

“Caine isn’t going to do anything, he isn’t going to get away with hurting you like this,” Jax told her firmly. “I love you Pomni. I’m gonna fix this.”

Pomni let out another sob, pressing her lips to his again.

Jax sighed, kissing her was like breathing new life to him. He didn’t know where do start with getting right of the hex that Caine placed on her. But he did know this for sure. No one was going to take Pomni from him.

He was going to set her free.

But first things first, they had to get to the fae realm…

[quitealotofsodapop]

The only reason the Stalwarts weren't with Wukong back when he had MK was because with the mass migration of monkeys and establishment of the new village, as well as their own aging bodies, they Sim p lh couldn't be there for him. They'd pleaded and begged him to come with them to the village, even threatened to drag him there themselves, but Wukong would always refuse. Liu once spent an entire year trying to force Wukong to the village only for Wukong to consistently disguise himself and waste precious magic trying to hide. By the time MK had come around they'd all given up and decided to let Wukong approach on his own terms, unknowingly leaving Wukong to make one of his biggest regrets because the stubborn monkey never even considered asking his siblings for help with a toddler

Somewhat, and because Wukong tried his damn best to hide that MK existed - even from his most trusted. In Wukong's mind, if his Egg could drain the dao of it's surroundings and of others; then what was stopping his Egg from consuming the life force of this new baby monkey and his closest troop members?

(the answer sadly; is that it wouldn't have been fatal for any party involved. But Wukong simply did not know for certain and wasn't taking the chance.)

The Stalwarts know it's a fool's errand to try and force their little brother into doing anything he doesn't want to. So trying to force him to live in the new monkey village full-time would just stress the King out.

One day the Stalwarts notice that Wukong is acting very secretive. There's a smell of new milk and new baby in the air. For a moment the four older monkeys wondered if Wukong's Egg had finally arrived. But it hadn't

Throughout the visit, at least one Stalwart slips away to try and investigate what the smell could be.

The sight of a newborn stone monkey - not born of their little brother - sends the four siblings into an uproar!

Why didn't Wukong trust them to know this?!

Wukong can only weakly explain through tears while holding the baby close to his chest; that the baby had not been "born" He can been created. Shaped with clay by the goddess Nüwa herself. A Harbinger of future Havoc to come.

The Stalwarts help their little brother through the toughest decision of his life. They all have a flash of anger at the fact that Wukong decided to give up the baby to the reincarnations of his Pilgrim brothers - but they are distracted by his sheer grief. Wukong wanted to keep his the baby, his Little Heaven, but after over a year of trying, he had become so weak and tired. At least with Pigsy and Tang, the holy magic of his former Master would shield the little one from harm.

The Stalwarts would have taken the baby into their own arms had Wukong asked. But they know that he wouldn't have wanted the baby Xiaotian growing up as a Prince. He wanted them to be raised as "normal" a child as he could before fate caught up to him.

The Stalwarts occasionally follow the odd scent of the new stone monkey when they visit the city. In the markets and shops, they see a glamoured human-cub clinging onto the backs of a pig demon and/or a human scholar. Little Heaven, now nicknamed "MK" would always look at the four monkey demons with fascination. And familiarity.

One time MK had a tantrum while shopping with his adoptive fathers. Within seconds a Stalwart (Ba, who has many children and grand-children of her own) appeared and soothed the toddler with soft hoo-ing noises, explaining to the grateful Pigsy that the sound of the supermarket speakers was hurting his sensitive ears. And Pigsy never denies the wisdom of an experienced grandmother.

In the modern day, MK takes one look at the Four Stalwart Generals and gasps at the familiarity he already has with them! Ba, The kind grandma at the shops. Ma, The cheeky martial arts instructor at his primary school. Liu, The aloof man who always ordered tofu noodles on Friday. Beng, The owner of the village market stall where Pigsy buys his mushrooms.

The Monkey King wasn't the only one who had kept an eye on MK throughout his life.

[prince-steele]

for oc ask game ⭐️🌈🎉🖍

⭐️ Tell us about your favourite OCs!

AAAAA ok so recently I've been Obsessed with my open original species I made, SYNTHS! *infographic here

Here's some of my favourites, and some little character profiles ab them 😊

🧿 SHIMMER

Shimmer is interesting bc I actually have two canons for her! I originally made her as a demaverse OC but I also have an original story for her that I'm creating with @silkysong <3

🌈 Shimmer is bisexual and A Creature first and foremost. Gender is incredibly incedental to her and her pronouns are She/It.

DEMA STORYLINE

☆ Shimmer is a Bounty Hunter ("Compound Representitive") in Dema who works off the books to capture escapees and bring them home. Synths are not allowed to hold positions of power in Dema so she tries to clutch it wherever she can.

☆ Due to the suppression that her society forces upon her, she despises humans and sees the presence of humanity in her biology as a defect. She works with a shady doctor (owned by @polarized-disguise ) who does strange genetic experiments on her to try and suppress that human part of her.

☆ She's very isolated and closed off, and doesn't like to open her heart to anyone. She only cares for her brother, Skye, who is the only person she respects at the start of her story. Over the course of it, she meets Iona (owned by @silkysong ) who troublemakes her way into a begruding Shimmer's life.

ORIGINAL STORY

☆ Similar to above, Shimmer is a representative of a power station in a small town, of which has far too much influence and power over its citizens.

☆ She has intense romantic tension with Iona who she begrudgingly begins to befriend over the course of the story.

☆ Female Rage Incarnate <333

🩵 SKYE

I literally only have recent photos of him and Shimmer together MFMSKD do not separate!!!

🌈 Skye is pansexual!

♡ Skye is a club owner in Dema who puts up a front as an empty headed, vacuous party boy but he secretly hides depth under his charming veneer. He aids the banditos by arranging escapes and supply drops, and tries his best to inspire FREE WILL into others, and encourages them to make their own decisions, whatever they may be.

♡ He and his sister oppose intensely in ideology but love each other deeply because they're all each other have really had for so long. Both of them think what the other is doing is dangerous, but would support each other in an instant if things were dire.

♡ He's constantly haunted by the fact that, due to being a Synth, he will never truly be able to connect with other humans. He often feels lonely and like a ghost, putting up a front to try and get through life. Where this instilled a deep longing in him, it prevented his sister from forming empathy.

♡ He's just a sincerely kind person :) <3

🦭 AQUAMARINE

Pictured: Ultrababy of forever

🌈 Nonbiney creature. She/They

◇ Aquamarine is a young plucky turquoise synth that loves to play and draw.

◇ She was plucked out of her life - from school, from her home and all she knew - and placed in an Incarceration Compound... To guard and monitor an unstable Empty Synth, 199 (owned by @silkysong ). She, despite her diminutive size, is physically very strong and good at helping calm others emotions, which is why she was selected.

◇ She's exposed to horrors beyond her comprehension and is forced into a role of responsibility that she should never have been given, but despite it all she loves her job and 199 and would never trade him for anything. She's selectively mute and chooses to sign her words!

⚔️ BLADES

HORRIBLE vile stinky man. art by the lovely silkysong <3

🌈 He's into anyone he can use to further his nasty little agendas

♤ Blades is another Compound Representitive that works in Dema alongside Shimmer. He's soooooo sucks <3 He very rarely actually does his job, instead choosing to hole up in his living quarters and do absolutely nothing to help Shimmer. He only makes a move when he absolutely has to, or if he has something to gain by doing so.

♤ He actually does the exact opposite of his job, distributing banned material to the inmates of the compound in exchange for "favours" or high prices. He's selfish and opportunistic, and is allergic to any form of responsibility for anything.

♤ He essentially never truly formed connections with others due to isolation, and therefore doesn't really have a working concept of love or empathy for others. This leads him to do terrible, irredeemable things, and hurt people who could possibly save him from himself.

❤️‍🔥 AEFRID

One of my NPCs from my DNDema campaign! She's so awesomes...

🌈 Aefrid probably likes women but she hasn't really thought about it

♡ Aefrid is a young, elite vialist priest who works directly under the bishops in the main towers. She is part of a secret experiment which attempts to strip synths of their autonomy and steal their augmentations, in her case, pyromancy.

♡ She is immature and overconfident due to being told how amazing and elite she is her entire life, and she fully believed her own hype. However, when she was finally faced with conflict from a source outside her sect, she IMMEDIATELY had her ass handed to her, and was dismissed from the sect.

♡ She has a deep bond with her sister, Maeve (Staunch vialist but with a warriors spirit - I also love her but dont have her art yet), who always tried to keep her feet on the ground, however, these lessons never really permeated.

♡ When Maeve was defeated, Aefrid jumped to save her from death and was mortally injured herself. The party members decided to save her, to which Maeve, who is a warrior above all, pledged her debt to. Aefrid is Resentful and Furious that Maeve would EVER help them and doesn't understand why her life is valued this much. She's currently very begrudgingly being sent to Trench so she and Maeve aren't hunted down and Glorious Gone'd.

🐺 FENRIR & 🫎 ANTHELION

These two r actually the cutest... I love them so dearly. Or should I say deerly B)

🌈 Fen is bisexual and Anthelion likes Fenrir :3 Fen is He/Him and Anthelion is They/Them

☆ Fenrir is another vialist priest in the same sect as Aefrid and Maeve. He is, however, completely unimpressed by the role and only got there because he scored incredibly high in all of his aptitude tests. He feels immense pressure from his family, his city and the Bishops to persue his intelligence and somehow ended up in with the Elites.

☆ He's a reliable, intelligent person that deeply cares about others despite his flat affect. He often guards himself because he doesn't believe in the teachings of Vialism, however he's in an Elite Sect within the church where any known dissent would lead to immediate death so he just keeps up airs despite being resentful of the entire practice.

☆ He longs to be free and immerse himself in Trench. He almost escaped a few times but always had second thoughts and returned to the towers every time... Until he both realised the horrible things they wete doing to synths through his new friend (and crush) Anthelion, along with meeting again with his old schoolmate (and crush) 199, who helped inspire him to fight back and leave the sect.

♧ Anthelion is a tender loving person who has not had much exposure to the world, due to being a Generation 3 synth. They were created as a purposed synth to be used in the experiments by the sect, and their abilities are related to Decay and Rot. Their focus is on plants, where their abilities allow them (and Fenrir when they are interlinked thru psychokinesis) to cause plants to decay instantly, and bloom again from the nutrient rich soil. People often mistake their abilities for controlling Plants when they really control the rate of decay and bloom within those plants.

♧ They and Fenrir are deeply tied to one another, due to the fact they were the only ones who treated each other with kindness and understanding while both were trapped within the towers. They trust and rely on each other to protect one another, and have spent a lot of time in each others minds bc of the psychokinesis, so they know each other very well.

♧ Anthelion is neurologically disabled! They have a speech impediment and have slowed reactions, and they need some extra help sometimes to understand the intentions of others, especially when they are bad ones.

BONUS QUESTIONS

🎉 Which one has the most growth over the course of their story?

I feel like they all have similar amounts of growth, be it progression or regression, but I think I've worked on Shimmer the most out of all of them!

🖍 CAN PEOPLE DRAW YOUR OCS? <3

YEAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSS

(others ocs and art owned by @silkysong and @polarized-disguise )