#just wait until i unleash my FULL POWER

[blackoutcitycomic]

at long last it’s finally here...

LVL34: Wish You Were Here

https://blackoutcity.ca/lvl34.php // https://tapas.io/episode/2771243

thank you for reading!! u__u happy.... four days after Valentine’s Day~ ♡

[fieldofdaisiies]

Midnight Queen

paring: Azriel x Reader | type: smut | words: 3,7k | warnings: explicit descriptions, vulgar wording, pleasure hall setting. playlist: i want to | fill the void | wicked games | earned it | into it | chills | TiO I decided to do a little rewrite of my first ever story I posted on here; thank you so much @moonlightazriel for beta reading it (sorry for serving you smut for breakfast)💛

"If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her."

And he did. He kept his distance. That night, that night months ago, he left. He stayed away from her. From Elain.

He left the House of Wind. And he sought out a pleasure hall. He downed a drink. And then he walked down one of the narrow corridors, velvet tapestry on either side, towards a more private room at the very back of the pleasure hall. Primal noises, moans and screams reached him on his way there, the scents of arousal mingling in the air around him, making him grimace. But he ignored it all, his anger and frustration getting the best of him.  

Azriel had followed Rhysand’s suggestion - fed up with all the happy couples in his life, and their constant display of joy and love. He couldn't stay moment longer in the House of Wind. 

He had to leave. But not for the sake of fucking. He didn't come to the pleasure hall to fuck, only to watch. To distract himself. And it is all he's done ever since. 

He only comes here to watch. And only to watch you. 

Until tonight. Tonight is different. Tonight he needs. He craves. He is a hungry male, and he seeks to devour. To still his hunger. He wants to savour. You. 

The glass, half-full with amber liquor, is tipped to his plump lips, while his gaze, like heated honey, is trained on you, following your every move. Just like his shadows, perched on both his shoulders and the little stage you dance upon, watching your every move closely, twin flames burning in his eyes that devour you, slowly undress you. 

You're on my mind Been there all night I've been missing seeing my midnight queen Come have a drinkOr maybe three And Darling I'll make you my next victim It's been too long to spend this night alone I need to hear the sweet sound of your moans Come have a ride, baby don't be so shy I prefer girls who're not afraid to cry

His eyes are on your curves and how you put them in action. Each sway of your hips, each spin, each twirl, Azriel‘s eyes follow, leaving heat in every place they touch. You feel it, feel how your heart beat quickens, how his eyes undress and devour you. He is a hungry male and you a ready to serve. 

But you make him wait, it is a game you are playing and you are not done yet. Hunter and prey…

Since his first visit a few months ago, Solstice Eve, he has only ever come to see you dance. And you like it. Enjoy it. His attention, the silent desire brewing beneath his tan and in tattoos covered skin, and flickering brightly in those hazel eyes that could easily undress females with just one look at them…

You spin and meet his gaze, a feline grin gracing your red-coloured lips. You blow him a kiss and watch how his eyes sparkle, twin flames of lust burning in them. His arousal, the scent so musky, of night chilled mist and cedar, reaches you and you inhale deeply, revelling in it. Damp heat slicks between your thighs, but you remind yourself that he is just another customer, just another male watching you. He should not have this effect on you. You should not want him that much…

You roll your hips, your belly nearly touching the pole, hands curling tighter around it. 

Azriel‘s mind wanders, he imagines how those hands curl around his shaft, your mouth —those plump red lips— fastened around the crown of his cock. 

Your head whips to him, almost like you can read his filthy thoughts. And when your eyes meet his, you know what you want. You want him fully unleashed, see what this powerful male is capable of. You bend over, crouch down, always making sure he focuses on the part of your body you want him to. 

Straightening up, you begin to dance anew. 

The room is hazy, dimly lit — arousal making the air feel thick, and foggy. You glide over the small stage with effortless allure. Grabbing the pole, swirling around it, moving away and always coming back. All your movements seem like a symphony of grace, syncing flawlessly with the soft pulse of the music that surrounds him. 

You never break eye-contact with him. Not even when you move of the stage, each step accentuated by the sway of your round hips. A thin piece of lace fabric covers your most private areas, leaving absolutely nothing to imagination. Your soft skin is almost fully exposed to both Azriel and the slightly chilly air. But you don’t feel cold. You feel hot all over. You are burning for this male. The male with the wings and shadows and stunning, cruel beauty etched upon his face. He is a sin to look at and more than once have you imagined yourself on the ground, between his thighs, looking up at him through your lashes. Damp heat pools between your thighs and you know he can scent it - and you want him to.

Your body moves like silk in the muted glow. As you move closer, you keep your gaze locked with his, a silent promise lingering in the air.

This night will be different, you know it. This night will not end here. But in your bed.

I choose you to fill my void, yeah I speak my voice and I choose you to fill the void

Your fingertips brush his shoulder, nothing but corded muscles beneath the fabric of his black shirt, as you move around him, a hypnotic dance in sync with the soft pulse of the music — a delicate tease with every sway of your hips, every little touch. He is a gone male, you have him fully wrapped around your finger, so much that also his shadows move in sync with the music and the sway of your hips. 

With your last swirl around him coming to an end you pause, halting between his strong thighs, so very inviting to sit down, to ride. But not yet.

With tantalising precision, you guide his hands to follow the contours of your body, his rough calluses scraping against your soft skin. The room fades into insignificance, there is only you on Azriel‘s mind, the feel of your soft skin beneath his hands. He wants to touch, feel, explore, grab, squeeze and knead.

But for now, he caresses.

The chemistry between your souls and the shared desire, so acute and palpable, creates an intimate bubble - no one but Azriel and you matter anymore.

Your scent is intoxicating and Azriel wants to taste you, lick and suckle, drink you in. He has been waiting so long for this moment, anticipation nearly makes him lose control. 

The soft brush of your skin against his is enchanting and he is lost, a goner. You own him. He is fully at your mercy, cock straining almost painfully behind his trousers. 

You guide his hands higher, his palms brushing over your hard nipples and sending a shockwave of sensation right to your core. Your knees threaten to buckle when his broad hands close over your breasts, kneading them gently, and you use this as an excuse to claim the spot on his lap.

"Good evening, Azriel." His name, rolling over your lips as a seductive whisper, almost like a sweet little sin, heats his blood — he can’t wait to hear you scream it when you come on his tongue. Around his dick.

"Sit!" His command is nothing but a purr and you follow, like the good girl you are. Your knees are braced on either side of him, caging him, when you lower yourself to sit atop the powerful Illyrian male. Your scents mingle, his shadows, having formerly watched you so intently, now glade over your bare skin, their touch so delicate their strokes leave goosebumps in their wake. His hands land on your waist and he holds you tightly. Almost like he needs to ground himself, holding back from fucking you straight ahead. 

The sultry grin once again touches your lips, and you lock your gaze with his, longing for the heat in this endless brown of them.

"You returned," you say, voice hushed and breathy.

His eyes dip to your mouth. "Always." Azriel's tongue pokes out and he licks over his lower lip, slowly dragging it over the skin. "I‘ve never visited anyone else." His finger tips dig into your skin. "Only ever you."

This shouldn’t make you so happy, but it does and your grin widens.

One of his hands lowers, grabbing your hips tightly. A growl, primal and pure, leaves him when you shift atop him. You feel his arousal, pressing into you, desire just as acute as your own.

Leaning in, your damp lips brush his ear, and in a sensual whisper you say, "I was wondering when you would finally put those hands to good use." You kiss the spot below his ear and to your surprise he shudders. His reaction elicits a delighted giggle from you.

But when you lean back, some of the fire in his eyes has vanished, almost like the flames were extinguished — did you the wrong thing?

"My hands—" he starts but does not continue. But he looks down and you follow the direction of his eyes, noticing the scars adorning his hands and parts of his arms. 

A feeling, something unknown to you since this moment, blooms inside you and you quickly close the distance between the two of you again, lips nearly meeting his. "Scars or no scars, your hands are beautiful and I can’t even tell you how many times I‘ve thought about them already. On me, all over me." You kiss his jaw. "Inside of me."

His skin tightens and when you meet his gaze again the fire is back, burning brighter than ever before. 

"What a coincidence," he purrs, his hot breath fanning your exposed skin, smelling of liquor. "I’ve been imagining your hand wrapped around my cock instead of that pole quite a few times already, as well."

The grin that spreads over his face is wicked, full of sensual promises, and the prospect of a night you will never forget. You are glad the former sadness has disappeared.

"Why did you come here tonight?" Your hot breath fans his neck. It is always the same question - the question you always ask Azriel when he comes to you. Though this time the answer is different. For the first time he comes here for something else.

"To still my insatiable hunger," he rasps. You feel how the muscles in thighs tense, harden, his palms radiating heat through the flimsy piece of lace you are wearing.

A sultry chuckle parts your red-tinted lips. "Hopefully we can appease your hunger then, shadowsinger."

He smiles again, sensual, sultry promises shimmering within his eyes, but he makes no move to kiss you. Or touch you any further. You lean in again, damp lips coasting over his cheek. 

"What are you waiting for, Azriel?" His name rolling over your lips in a whisper feels like the sweetest sin to Azriel, it makes a groan erupt from some deep part of his throat, and his skin go taut with desire. Yet, he controls his hunger, his need, having to make something very clear before you commence.  

"Your consent," the shadowsinger breathes. "When we fuck, I don’t want you to do this because it is you job. When we fuck, I want you to want this just as much as I do. I want you to—"

You shut him up with a kiss. "I want you. I want this. And I know this is more than my job. I want you because my body screams for you. I need you."

It is all he needs to hear. Azriel leans in. He threads his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck, tilting your head back to give him better access. His tongue licks over the exposed column of your spine, tasting both the sweet, rose scent of your perfume and the saltiness of your sweat. "I’ve wanted this for so long," he rasps, and nips at your jaw, hand sliding between your thighs, parting them.

You feel light-headed on top of him, his erection pressing into you. "Why did you wait so long then?" Your voice is nothing more than a sensual purr. Your grind against him, your softest parts against his hardest. "Why did you make me wait for so long?"

He sucks in a sharp breath. And then he grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

Your skin heats up, cheeks burning when your eyes meet his - pupils fully dilated. 

"Because it only made me hungrier for you." His lips close over yours, showing you exactly how hungry he is. "I am a starved male and I can’t wait to devour. To ravish you tonight."

You have to hold back from moaning out loud.

His index finger strokes over the lace, the only thing piece of fabric covering your private parts. He groans at the dampness soaking through the fabric, his head already starting to spin. Long, scarred hands slide beneath it, dragging through your wet folds, eliciting a gasp from you.

"For me?" he purrs.

"Yes," you breathe, eyes glazing over, "only you can get me so wet."

At first, the shadowy male is explorative, touching you gently, easing his fingers in an out of you in languid movements, but all of that comes to an end when you bite down on his neck, dragging your teeth over his hot skin. Azriel laughs, almost a little wickedly, and flicks his wrist, plunging his fingers into you from a different angle now. He fucks you hard - fingers spearing into you, thumb rubbing your clit until release shatters through you. You cry out, nails digging into his skin, head falling back. Your knees buckle and your limbs feel tingle, his fingers still inside of you, letting you ride out your high. No male has ever made you feel like that, and he is only using his fingers to do so. If in this composed position, and only with two of his fingers, he can already make you feel like that, and make you come so hard, you won’t even allow yourself to imagine what he will be able to do with his…cock.

He is smug about how easily he made you come - an almost arrogant smile gracing his plump and swollen lips - cocky male! But something about it fuels a fire inside of you. He is skilled and he knows it, and somehow you love it. 

He removes his fingers, slowly, and holding your gaze he dips them into his mouth, licking them clean of your juice. A guttural noise rumbles out of him, his eyes rolling back at the taste of you. "Fuck," he breathes and a moment later his hands cradle your face and he kisses you, deep, passionate and hungry. 

You roll your hips against him, almost whining when your sensitive core rubs over the bulge in his pants. Your skin prickles, your clit is swollen, core throbbing while your nerves are on fire. You need him fully. You need him inside of you. You need him unleashed. 

"More," your breathlessly plead. And you are surprised - it is never you who begs.

Azriel kisses the corner of your mouth, lips lingering. "I wasn’t planning on stopping here."

He hoists you in his strong arms, large wings flaring behind his back, your legs wrapping around Azriel’s waist. With ease he carries you to the large bed, and then tosses you onto it, into the dark, silken sheets. He is towering over your, shoulders squared, wings spread, shadows dancing on his shoulders. "Strip," he orders, but adds, "or do you need help?"

A smirk appears on your lips and he is on you the next second, tearing through the flimsy piece of fabric, bearing you to chilly air and him. "Apologies, I will buy you a new outfit." His lips coast over neck to cleavage, until he reaches your tits. He takes each hardened peak into his mouth, letting his tongue glide over the pebbled skin, closing his lips, suckling, his other hand giving just as much attention to your other breast, kneading gently. The calloused skin is rough against yours and feels phenomenal and terribly arousing. You need him. You need him so much, you simultaneously let the tip of your toes slide beneath the waistband of his pants, and your hand over his crotch. With ease, you flick open the button, and push the trousers down the curve of his ass. His hard cock springs free and leaves you breathless - he is long and thick, a little curved and absolutely beautiful.

Interrupting your shameless staring, he kisses you, tongue parting your lips, teeth clashing, tongues dancing, fighting for dominance neither of you allows the other. Both scarred hands, arms adorned with visible veins, are braced next to your head. He is leaning over you, caging you and you love how he makes you feel - respected in your choices, seen, and not just like an object. That’s why you want him so much. That’s why you need him so much - he is not like other males. 

You only break the kiss when you feel something wet on your skin, and lift your head, Azriel’s gaze following your eyes.

A drop of pre-come has fallen onto your belly, right next to your navel. You want to clench your thighs, something low in your belly tightening. The male sucks in a sharp breath, and then an almost animalistic growl parts his lips. 

His hot breath fans your throat, canines scratching over your skin. "That’s what you do to me. That’s how much I crave you."

He forces your thighs further apart, shifting on the bed, the broad crown of his cock nestled against your entrance. 

"Open up for me, my queen." Queen. You have never been called anything more beautiful. More powerful. 

Your hips fall even wider open and he slides into you, sinking into your tender flesh, stretching you out. Nothing could have ever prepared you for this feeling, the feeling of him - no one has ever felt like Azriel. So good. So right.

There is a hint of pain, but you eventually adjust to his size, and moan.

Never ever have you felt so perfectly filled. "Fucking Gods," you moan, fisting the sheets next to you. "Fuck, Azriel, move."

He loves the dominance, the power he has. With a low chuckle, seeing your already blissed out stage, he pulls out until only the tip is in and then rolls his hips against you, plunging deep into you, the muscles in his ass flexing.

"You are such a needy little thing, huh? So greedy for my dick." He is searching your gaze, waiting for a reaction - do you like the slight degradation? Is it too much, due to your job.

But you like it - coming from his lips you like it. You know he doesn't mean it in relation to your job. 

You let your hands slide down to his ass, sinking your nails into the flesh, your own hips lifting, back arching. 

"How do you want me, my midnight queen?"

You let out a shaky breath, his length slowly sliding into you, letting you feel every proud inch of his erection. "Ha-rd," you stutter. "I want you to take me hard."

He growls in approval and soon sets a relentless tempo, pulling out to the tip and slamming back into you - at a brutal pace his hips snap against yours, pounding and thrusting into you. 

The breaths that leave Azriel are ragged and fast, just like your own. Your whimper and moan, cry out in pleasure, meeting each of his thrusts with the roll of your hips. 

The sounds of smacking flesh, the groaning of the bed and the bedframe hitting the wall fill the small room. Your back arches, and you lift your legs, curling them around Azriel, heels pressing into his bum. The new angle allows him to fuck you even deeper and it has you writhing and squirming beneath him. 

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him and it tells Azriel you are close. And so is he - release already starts to gather in his spin, flecks of black and white sparking in front of his vision. 

"You are taking me so well." Azriel captures your lobe between his teeth. "You want to come, don't you?"

You nod, no more talking possible. You are a blissed-out mess beneath him, driven only by desire and lust, your body feeling like jelly. 

Azriel clicks his tongue and you are surprised you heard it over the blood rushing in your ears. "Use your words!" There is nothing soft in his voice, nothing gentle - it is a command and you absolutely love his dominance. Because he respects you in his dominance. It is about your pleasure as well. This is about you. This moment is about you. He sees you. Respects you. 

"Yes!" you cry out. The dam bursts and release washes over you. You come undone, screaming out in pleasure, and Azriel follows you right over the edge. His thrusts become languid, his hot seed spurting of your walls, filling you. "Take it all," he groans into your ear, hips rolling against yours and you milk him dry. "Let me fill you up nicely. I want my scent to be all over you, stick to your skin for ages." 

Your eyes roll back, and you are too delirious to realise that this wonderful moment is already over. 

You slump onto the mattress, knees buckling, limps numb, chest rising and falling with deep inhales. Azriel pulls out and then collapses right on top of you. 

"No male will ever touch you again, Y/N. You are mine! From now on, until the last day of our immortal life."

~~~~~~~ tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

[witchofthemidlands]

i know, i know realistically that because tales of the tardis is making it's return that “the one who waits” or whatever “the big bad” is that shall be giving the doctor & UNIT grief in the finale will probably be that villain from the pyramid serial that was, in fact, the first proper classic who serial i ever saw because it was on the sarah jane adventures dvd but up until the new tales of the tardis instalment was announced, i was so deep in the theory that this is all leading up to the trickster's greatest comeback of all time: ruby is an element of the pantheon & seeing as i've clowned too close to the sun i'm unleashing the insanity that's been occurring in my brain since “the devil's chord”

so basically the doctor said 8 words about maestro & i haven't been sane since.

“that thing must be part of the pantheon”

that was it for me then, i was CONVINCED that this might be leading up to have something to do with the trickster because in “the wedding of sarah jane smith” the doctor & the trickster/the pantheon talk about how they heard about one another through legend:

& from the spreading of the salt this era of doctor who has been all about myths & legends breaking their way through into the universe & the first half of the finale is titled “the legend of ruby sunday”

THEN maestro attacked ruby & the music played from within ruby is VERY similar to the score played in “whatever happened to sarah jane smith” when sarah jane was giving maria the puzzle box which protected her (& then later alan) from the trickster's power & this was the first time the trickster ever came into the whonivese & whilst i thought i was reaching here, i was CLEARLY not the only one who thought that the score progression sounded similar.

https://youtu.be/ARVTQ91P5RE?si=_TD41qhQ_PbQ-8kp

after “the devil's chord” i didn't want to say anything because i thought i was going to sound absolutely crackers but it was simmering, the thoughts that whatever ruby is COULD be connected to the trickster or the pantheon. honestly even if it turns out to be nothing to do with the trickster themself but just another element of the pantheon that's at play & what everything is leading up to, i'd consider that a win.

the full downward spiral into madness began after i witnessed the horror that was “73 yards” which both scared me for life & after like no doctor who episode has done in a VERY long time because not only was i actually scared of ruby sunday & was thinking WHAT IS THIS BEING but it also unleashed this:

deep down, my rational brain KNOWS it's not what my unhinged brain thought it were but in fact what it literally was which was a story filled with elements of welsh folklore BUT my brain said:

to my brain, “73 yards” reminded me of the doctor in “turn left” saying:

and whilst i was in my post 73 yards state of horror/being genuinely afraid of what ruby was there's was two options my brain was throwing out:

1) ruby could be one of the pantheon/the trickster’s brigade she's one of the changelings like the time beetle because life WAS changed in tiny little ways & this was literally probably one of ruby's worst case scenario: that everyone would leave & she'd be alone all her life & her fears manifested in her potential trickster/changeling power & made a whole new reality for her that she enabled herself to stop. it was all just her & the extent of her powers which could be used for very bad.

2) and this is the one that i latched onto like a person deranged:

ruby is a creation of the trickster, the trickster is “the one who waits” because the trickster has been “waiting” for a way to break into the universe & then i just went wild with this theory of mine because of the sarah jane adventures.

in the (devastating) final season of the sarah jane adventures, sky smith was left on the doorstep of sarah jane's house when she was a baby, similarly to how ruby is left on the threshold of the church on ruby road. now that's a reach, yes but HAD the sarah jane adventures series 5 finished the way it was intended to be finished, sky smith would have turned out to be the trickster's child in an finale called “the battle of bannerman road” & her trickster powers would have been awakened by the trickster. sarah jane would apparently have been considering this to be true because she'd gotten jo jones to research “trickster myths” sky would have returned to herself but would have evolved into an entity that would banish the trickster from reality & guard him in a prison forever:

The Battle of Bannerman Road (unproduced TV story) | Tardis | Fandom

honestly i started to imagine that a similar situation could happen with ruby because this story was ultimately never made & whilst i am probably clowning to the highest degree here, i thought about jo & clyde's segment of “tales of the tardis” & how clyde's story is left open ended as if it could possibly be continued & what better way to continue clyde & rani's story then to bring them back during a potential battle with the trickster? there is also the fact that the other unnamed episodes of the sarah jane adventures WERE actually made into stories for a fantastic show called “wizards vs aliens” specifically, “the thirteenth floor”

so perhaps rtd could be using the bare bones of “the battle of bannerman road” for the conclusion to the mystery of ruby sunday.

as i said, i went rather deranged with this one & it's probably going to be the greatest comeback for sutekh, who will probably turn out to be “the one who waits” possibly the head of the pantheon & the creator of ruby but my brain has decided to throw one more twist:

✨sutekh x the trickster✨

i'm kinda glad that this will all be over soon so i can be proved wrong & can enjoy a peaceful state of mind again, finally set free from my trickster theory 😅

[kwangyakarina]

Too spicy for your heart

💋🌶🌃🖤⛓

Domme!Karina, Brat!Winter

Rated Explicit: (light) BDSM, smut,romance

Fic on Ao3 (+specific tags)

After Paris Fashion Week Karina and Winter finally unleash their secret passion for each other in a hotel room.

(Please be gentle, English isn't my first language)

***

"You know we can't fuck until it's all over?" Karina teased Winter,

"I bet you can't take it."

They are in Seoul in their dorm room, laying in bed together after fucking. Today they had gotten the news that they are representing Chopard at the Fall Paris Fashion Week.

"You bet? I'm not that easy," Winter says.

"No touching at all, not even yourself," Karina smirks.

"I accept the challenge."

"You have no other option but to accept it!"

"And what will I get If i win?"

"You will see that then," Karina winks.

***

It's been a long day full of flashlights, catwalks, international celebrities and the most beautiful and bizzarre costumes. All the most influencial people have gathered to Paris this week to celebrate the new season of fashion. Aespa has been invited to join this year, and they have been surrounded by assistants, guards, stylists and hair and makeup team the whole week. It's a break from usual dance and singing practise, but it's full work with high heels on constantly.

What the cameras haven't been able to capture is the little game Karina and Winter have played the whole week during their stay in Paris.

During the week the only thing they could do is eye each other from distance.

Except for one night.

As Karina offered a champagne glass to Winter their fingertips touched slightly but that touch made Winter feel her body electrify. She had watched Karina that evening with a longing stare, little tipsy and little horny, that goddess of a woman Karina is. She could only bite her lip and hold herself when Karina whispered her:

"I know what you're thinking. If you try anything you will be punished."

But that had only turned Winter on more. She coudn't take it. Without her noticing she had drunk more champagne than planned. She sat next to Karina while the girls and the crew members were chatting. Under the table, she started circling her finger across Karina's thigh.

"It's a nice warm night, isn't it?", Winter smiled at her mischeviously.

Karina only looked at her like she could pierce her soul. That look of hers was so powerful Winter could feel a pulse in her lower part.

"You just lost. You know what I'm gonna do to you?" Karina said in a low voice.

"Yeah?" Winter drunkenly smiled.

"I'm gonna fuck those nasty thoughts out of that pretty little head of yours" Karina whispered to Winter's ear.

Winter felt her whole face flushing.

"You will beg me to release you but I won't touch you until you beg for it," Karina moved her head to stare at Winter's flushing face.

"Yeah... and then?" Winter said.

"And then what? Are you already turned on you pervert?", Karina said as she whiped a hair out of Winter's face.

Winter suddenly started giggling uncontrollably. She covered her face with her hands but she couldn't stop shaking.

"What's so funny?" Ningning asked.

"Hahaha you get drunk so easily" Giselle laughed.

But Winter coudn't stop laughing, her whole face red, she makes a swift movement with her hand and accidentally throws her champagne glass on the floor chattering it and the champagne flowing everywhere. Audible gasps come from across the table and Winter finds herself the center of attention.

"I'm so sorry!" she muttered.

"I think it's time for Winter to go to sleep", her assistant stands up and assisted Winter out of the table.

"Nooo! I don't want to go! I want to stay!" Winter complained.

Last thing she sees is Karina wearing that sinister smile of hers.

***

The whole week has come to an end now and it had been difficult for the both of them. After the little drunk incident Winter had behaved herself. It had been humiliating enough to embarass herself in front of everyone and be turned on at the same time.  But now the wait was over. The day was done and the girls are on a taxi on their way to the hotel. Karina is seated at the back next to Winter, their thighs touching slightly. It had been an exhausting week but now the two girls were both energetic from each other's presence and that the week-long wait would finally be over.

"Let's get some drinks to celebrate the last night!" Giselle says.

"I think I'm gonna go sleep. I'm exhausted." Karina says.

"Me too. I can't hold alcohol anymore". Winter says.

"I'll come with you Gigi!" Nigning says.

The two girls leave to the hotel lounge while Karina and Winter walk side by side to the grand elevator.

Karina presses their floor number.

Neither of them say anything.

The elevator door slowly closes.

"So..ummh" Winter starts but before she can't finish her sentence Karina pushes her against the wall and pins Winter by her arms as she passionately kisses Winter.

After the suprise Winter quickly accomodates to the kiss and opens her mouth more, taking Karina's tongue inside her. Winter reaches out her hands and wraps them around Karina's neck.

Bling!

As the elevator door opens they part, panting, with a saliva string connecting their mouths.

Karina's red lipstick has left stains on Winter. Seeing them in the elevator mirror Winter starts to giggle and then takes Karina's hand and leads them out of the elevator.

"What's the hurry?" Karina says.

Winter smiles and gives her a kiss.

"Just open the door already" she says.

As the door closes behind them Winter leans in for a kiss but Karina blocks her mouth with her hand.

"Not so fast" Karina says.

"I have a gift for you. But before your reward i have to punish you. Remember that you lost when you touched me," Karina says as she brushes her hand on Winter's cheek.

"Wasn't the broken champagne glass enough of a humiliation?"

"No, I'm not that forgiving. I have to make sure you've learned your lesson"

"Karina is so mean~"

"That's what you like"

Winter bites her lip.

Karina starts circling Winter slowly like a predator cornering its prey. She slowly drags her fingers across Winter's body, who is already shivering. Placing herself behind Winter, Karina unzips her dress slowly making it fall on the ground.

Now Winter is only her white lace underwear.

Karina kisses Winter's neck, collarbones, her smooth white skin that's rising as she slowly takes her bra off, Karina takes Winter's breast in her mouth and licks her nipple.

Winter gasps.

"You're so cute like this" Karina says.

She bites Winter's nipple teasingly.

Winter lets out a whine in agony but Karina doesn't stop. She pinches her other nipple as she bites to the other one.

Winter is now breathing heavily.

"Aaah Karina it hurts!"

Karina only smiles, she grabs Winter's hair and pulls her back as she kisses her passionately.

"MMhhh" Winter lets out.

With Karina still fully dressed and Winter only with her underwear on, Karina pulls Winter to the ground from her hair.

Winter feels a shiver go through her. It always happens when Karina takes the lead. It all started in dance practise back when they were rookies. And it still makes her heart drop.

Winter kneels and places herself on Karina's feet.

Karina pulls her Hermes scarf from her hair and lets her long silky hair fall over.

"Give me your hands" Karina says.

Winter does as she's told.

Karina ties her hands together with the scarf tightly.

At this point Winter has already lost her mind, she is fully in Karina's control. She had waited this for so long.

"Come here" Karina points to the bed.

Karina guides Winter's head to rest on her lap. She caresses Winter's hair.

"You know you've been a bad girl?"

"Yeah" Winter lets out her chest rising as she is trying on hold her excitement.

"And what happend to bad girls?" Karina says as she moves her fingers to circle Winter's ass.

"They get punished" Karina says sternly as she lands a slap on Winter's ass.

"Ahh!" Winter lets out.

The slap stings and Winter feels her whole body come alive.

There is no way out now. She is fully in Karina's control.

With her hands tied, she is can do nothing but take Karina's slaps.

This is the feeling she's missed the whole week.

Karina keeps spanking her until Winter is but a whimpering mess.

Karina grabs Winter's hair, drool dripping from her mouth.

"Who do you belong to?" Karina says.

Winter can barely comprehend what is happening.

"Say it" Karina says as she continues spanking Winter.

"Mmhh yo---you!" Winter whimpers.

Karina smirks.

"Good girl" she says and lands a kiss on Winter's forehead.

Karina lets Winter calm down her breath. Winter's whole body is shivering from the experience.

She lifts Winter up from her limp arms, revealing Winter's flushed face. Karina wipes Winter's drool and pulls her waist so Winter sits on Karina's lap. She unties the scarf and Winter falls on Karina's embrace, her head resting on Karina's breasts. She lets her breath calm down as Karina plays with her hair.

"I think you've deserved your gift now," Karina whispers.

"Mmhh," Winter mumbles. She starts pulling Karina's zipper. She pulls the dress down on her waist revealing Karina's black bra. She raises her gaze to meet Karina's as if asking for permission. Karina only smirks as she takes off her bra and Winter buries her head between her bare breasts. This might be her favorite place in the whole world.

"You still want your gift?" Karina asks as she pats Winter's hair.

"Yeah..." Winter whispers.

Karina places Winter on the bed as she rises and lets the dress fall on the ground. She reaches for her bag and pulls a little gift box.

"Here," Karina says as she hands it to Winter and sits next to her on the bed.

Winter opens the box that reveals a small luxurious glass bottle.

"What is it?" Winter asks.

"It's a massage oil. I bought it from Chanel"

Winter opens the bottle and smells it.

"Aah vanilla!"

"You like it?"

"I love it!"

Karina pulls Winter back on her lap and takes the bottle from Winter's hands.

She pours slowly oil to Winter's bare chest. The vanilla scent fills the air.

Karina starts massaging Winter's collarbones, arms, and lastly - her breasts, to which Winter gasps.

She pulls Winter close to herself as she pours some oil on Winter's ass, which is covered with red marks. Winter can only hold on thight to Karina as she is getting more aroused.

Suddenly Karina pushes Winter to the bed and lifts her legs.

She kisses Winter's ankle and pours oil all over her long legs.

Karina starts massaging her legs, starting with long strokes oiling up her legs.

Winter tries to close her legs in embarassement but Karina forces them to stay open revealing the wet stain on Winter's panties.

Karina adds pressure as she works her hands slowly upwards Winter's thighs.

She pours oil on Winter's panties making them translucent. She starts slowly massaging her inner thighs towards her labia.

Winter spasm from the touch and lets out a whine.

Karina holds her still with one hand as she continues massaging Winter who is squirming from the pleasure.

"Enough!" Winter whines.

"Enough what?" Karina asks.

"Just fuck me already" Winter pleads.

"If you insist," Karina smiles and she starts pulling down Winter's panties while kissing her lower stomach.

She continues the trail of kisses down towards Winter's pussy.

Karina takes a one long lick which makes Winter gasp.

Her wetness tastes like vanilla. She is truly the sweetest girl, Karina thinks.

Karina starts licking Winter who can only grab Karina's hair and try to hold herself still.

Karina inserts a finger inside her making Winter arch her back.

She licks her clitoris as she works her finger inside her.

"Ahh Karina," Winter pleads.

Karina adds another finger inside her and fastens the pace.

She can feel Winter opening to her as her wetness glides her fingers in and out.

The wet sounds and Winter's gasps fill the air.

Karina could do this forever.

Her sweet girl...

"Karina! I'm-- I'm coming!"

"Not yet"

Karina adds a third finger and presses her thumb over Winter's clitoris.

Winter's whole body moves to the fast pace Karina fucks her.

She has become a whimpering mess.

"Karina! Karina... please!" Winter mumbles.

Karina moves closer to Winter pressing her breasts against Winter's.

"My sweet dirty girl," Karina murmurs.

"Ahh Karina!" Winter whimpers.

Winter can feel the wave of pleasure take over her as she lets herself be fucked by Karina.

She can only whimper and grab tightly to Karina as she comes.

Karina lets herself fall on top of Winter and let their breath become one.

Their sweaty oily bodies have merged together as they hold onto each other.

Karina kisses Winter's forehead.

"I love you," Karina whispers.

Tears are forming on Winter's eyes.

"I love you too Karina," Winter says in a breathy voice.

They entagle in a deep kiss.

Night has fallen to Paris, the city of love, but the dark hours are full of sweet vanilla love for the two girls.

[pamgkrthwrites]

Hi I have another request if you that's ok

It a idea I have had on my mind

Can I request yandere Macaqa , dbk pif , pigsy and tang, and monkey king NSFW separately

With reader beIN a different demon hitting her mating season. Like the reader a Phoenix demon harpy. And they take full advantage of her season to get her breed nice s plumb with there Young. Please and thank you. ( Also I don't know the ship name for tang a PIGSY and dbk and pif)

I'm going to saw a harpy demon instead of a phoenix because of some personal headcanons but let's dive in. Side note this is implying read is female.

Support me here

Warning, the following content is for an 18+ audience. If you are under the age of 18 do not read the content below. Warning, the following content has disturbing/triggering themes such as; Yandere, Adult Content, Breeding Kink, Dub-Con, and others. I do not support or encourage these themes or actions, they are merely written fictional events for entertainment. The character(s) depicted within this post are over the age of 20.

Sun Wukong

Makes his whole bedroom a giant bed nest. He lays you down and gives you water and fruit but doesn't touch you(and doesn't allow you to touch yourself either) until you beg him.

He kisses you jaw "Does my little birdie want me to breed her?" He whispers into your ear. "I can certainly make that happen~"

Has you in the breeding press as he thrusts deep inside you, roughly and fast. Even after he cums be keeps going. He doesn't stop for several hours.

Does keep his cock inside of you even after you've past out to keep his cum inside of you. Once you wake up, he asks if you want another round before getting right back at it.

Macaque

Like Wukong, he turns an entire closet of his dojo into a nest for you.

He session are very long just so when he does finally cum inside of you you are milking a lot out of him.

When you are recovering he will feed you food and make sure you are getting water.

The moment you start begging again though is when he is back inside if you.

FreeNoodles(Tang and Pigsy)

Tang did his research before you even hit your seasonal heat. In fact, these two have been planning for it.

Suddenly, a day before your heat is suppose to hit you three are going camping. For the following week you are in a tent in the rainforest bouncing on Pigsy's cock.

Tang feeds and waters you two throughout your entire heat and takes notes on how much cum Pigsy is fucking into you.

"We have to guarantee she gets pregnant so the more cum you-" "Tang just shut up and me fuck her cunt!"

IronBull(Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan)

You are on your knees and elbows, gasping at the sheer size of Demon Bull King cock not just inside of you but also cervix fucking you.

Princess Iron Fan laughs at your face, kissing you roughly. "Jut wait until he unleashes his load into you, my love. One pump will give him a second heir for sure."

Princess Iron Fan loves seeing your fucked out face as you are fuck by her husband and sucking her tits.

"You might have to do me next, hun." She giggles to her husband. "I don't think she has enough brain power to even eat me out."

[dellalyra]

Family Formation Part Three

Summary: The Gojo's share a soft, warm moment with Yuuji after an unexpected midnight run in.

SERIES MASTERLIST requests currently open :)<3

CW: fluff, pregnancy, mild threat, sukuna being sukuna, this is almost more of a crack fic but like it's really soft bc so many people wanted Y/N and Gojo to adopt Yuuji after part two but part four... is going to be heartbreaking I'm sorry

11.43pm - Tokyo Prefectural High School, Dorm Building Kitchen

You’re in the common room, waiting for your husband to finish up a mission - looking at your phone you see him say he’ll be about 10 minutes, so you go to make yourself a quick cup of tea before he gets here and goes home. You could hear the kids up in their dorms until about 30 minutes ago after you had made dinner for you all this evening.

As you boil the kettle, you feel a silent presence lurking behind you, just at the entrance to the kitchen- a drastic shift in cursed energy, one you’d rather not be familiar with but sadly have come to know all too well. You continue to prepare your tea in peace. “Evening, Sukuna.” You say, with an exasperated sigh. A kitchen conversation with the King of Curses wasn’t quite how you imagined this evening to go but you’ll make do. It feels like your baby starts to sense the cursed energy too, with them kicking a little more since Sukuna’s arrival - Gojo genes are strong in this one you see.

A growl emanates through the room, “You dare address me so casually, wench?” “I do, Sukuna, you’re far too smart to start shit in here and with me right now, so do shut up and let me enjoy my tea.” “Oh, what a brave little girl you are - are you in any position to do anything but beg for me to spare the life of you and your child?” His eyes seem to flow red through the dimly lit room.

“I would say I’m rather well safeguarded yes, I’m a special grade sorcerer, and even 7 months pregnant I could inflict decent damage on you, my husband is Gojo Satoru, and my son who possesses the Ten Shadow technique is down the hall AND is overprotective and down the hall, a girl who may as well be my daughter, doing the same and another Grade 1, but most of all - the body you are housed in is that of a boy who is also as good as a son to me, and the minute you start to show me any real threat I know he will make up and squash your nighttime wandering hopes. So, tell me, what can I help you with, Sukuna?” You roll your eyes, knowing full well he’s trying to grandstand and intimidate you, but you just do not have the patience to deal with it right now. As you speak you pour the water into your mug and sit yourself down with a groan at your tired feet. The glare you were given along with the smirk and what you could only assume to be a laugh may scare some, but not you, you’ve seen and exorcised far worse than Sukuna in a 15-year-old boy's body in the kitchen. “Hm, I like you - you’ve got balls. As for what I wanted, well, I suppose I wanted to see for myself the woman carrying the future of jujutsu sorcery - hardly any fun going through all this trouble to regain my power if there will be nothing interesting to use it on.” He stalls towards you, eyeing you and your growing stomach like a trophy. “The child - it is strong, not even taken a breath and the cursed energy outweighs your own. Possibly it’s fathers too. And you’ve raised the Ten Shadows boy, for a human I almost respect you, there’s nothing quite as entertaining as a fierce woman.”

The flare in your cursed energy at the thought of Sukuna even discussing your children would have blown lesser beings to ash but luckily, years of control and practice have kept you from unleashing the rage of a protective mother - this is not even the first time. The very night Sukuna was reborn inside Yuuji, you stood in front of your injured son Megumi which fire burning inside you as Gojo watched the love and care you had for him and that boy behind you turn into a blast slamming the curse into the building. (Your initial concern for hurting the as-yet-unknown rosey-haired child diminished after having seen how Sukuna reinforced his body during a brief scuffle with your husband).

“Sukuna, you have seen that I am quite clearly pregnant, you’ve done what you came to do - off you go, unless you’re going to say you want tea -” with a snarl and muttering about the insolence of humans and the arrogance of every Gojo he retreats as a waking Yuuji looks around, clearly confused.

“Y/N? Why am I in the kitchen? I was asleep? Wait, why are you here, where’s Gojo-Sensei?” The words all tumble out mingled with a yawn from him. Seeing no reason to hide the truth, you continued. “You’re okay Yuuji, Satoru will be here in a minute, I’m just waiting here for him to finish up a quick mission, didn’t want to drive so I’ll go home with him. And as for why you’re in the kitchen, it seemed your body roommate wanted a midnight stroll.” You put your mug onto the counter as you reboil the water to make some tea for Yuuji, hoping it would coax him back to sleep. “Wait, Sukuna? Are you okay? Oh god, I’m so sorry, what did he want?” He flustered about.

“Yuuji honey, I’m absolutely fine, and you have nothing to be sorry for. He just wanted to see if the rumors of a new Six Eyes could be true. We were all completely safe sweetheart, I sent him packing and pretty much told him if he didn’t want tea he could piss off, he’s too smart to ever try anything that could put himself in danger - so don’t worry, you’re safe with Satoru and me around. Plus, I think this one is going to have both my temper and Satoru’s lack of sanity so, you’re surrounded by Gojo’s who love you.” You pat your belly and then his head and push the chamomile tea mug into his hands. He scratches the back of his neck and thanks you, muttering about how much of a dick Sukuna is. You giggle at him and sit down.

“Wait, did you really ask the king of curses if he wanted tea?” Yuuji asked as if that part of the story had just clicked in his head. “Well, Shoko always said I was too ballsy for someone my size.” You giggle and he laughs too, but nods, knowing you are one of the bravest (and kinda scary in a fight) people he’s met since joining the sorcery world.

“He didn’t want any tea though. Maybe he’s a hot chocolate kinda guy.” You say, with a straight face, Yuuji looks at you for a moment and then bursts into hysterical laughter as you giggle about wrapping Sukuna in a blanket and giving him cocoa with tiny marshmallows. As you’re finishing your tea, Satoru walks (flounces) through the door and leans down to pepper your face with kisses. “Well if it isn’t my dearest, darling, sweetheart, angel wife. Are you ready to go home? I have some snacks for us before bed.” He says as you notice the bags behind his back. He then turns to Yuuji, “Huh, you have Sukuna cooties tonight. What did I miss?” Itadori turns his nose up at the residuals being called cooties. “It’s alright, ‘Toru. Sukuna decided to check out whether the rumor of more Gojo spawn was true. Got poor Yuuji out of bed for it and all.” You reassured him.

“Huh, well, you okay, baby? He didn’t upset you did he?” You loved that Satoru had so much faith in your abilities and strength that he knew he needed to be nothing but support for you, and you’d spoken before about his being surrounded by sorcerers was the safest place for Yuuji to be so you both knew Sukuna wouldn’t risk his chance. You weren’t dumb enough to think you could take down Sukuna alone - only Satoru could have a chance, but you could definitely hold him off with your powerful cursed technique long enough for Satoru to arrive. You kissed his cheek and nodded that you were absolutely fine.

“Gojo-sensei, she offered him tea. Sukuna.” Yuuji said, still in disbelief. “That’s my girl!” Hearing this, Satoru laughed and pulled you into his chest, beaming at his beautifully snarky, witty wife.

“Now, Satoru, let’s get home - it’s late. I can see you yawning, Yuuji, back to bed.” You usher him down the hall to his dorm and make sure he gets into bed, as he sleepily tumbles into his Spider-Man sheets you’d gotten a few months back, you whisper goodnight to him. As you were about to close the door, you hear a very sleepy, barely awake ‘gnight mom, night dad.’ You squeeze Satoru’s hand as you smile at each other, wordless but endless appreciation for what you just heard and have only ever heard from Megumi (rarely) and Tsumiki (you missed hearing it from her). You knew Yuuji would be back to Y/N and Gojo-Sensei tomorrow but now in a sleepy vulnerable moment that’s how he saw and felt about you both was enough to know you guys must be doing something right.

“Satoru, we should really stop picking up stray kids on the street and keeping them.” You giggle thinking of the siblings, Yuuji and the sweet boy you cared for currently in Africa with Miguel. “Hm, nah, we need a whole collection, our own army - now c’mon, the baby just said ‘Hey dad get mom home I want to have cuddles and mochi with you’” in the worst baby impression ever he squeaked at you and he picked you up bridal style to warp you home, but not before you get in a quiet “oh really, when did you become the womb whisperer? That sounds like you want that to me.”

TAGLIST:

@vesta-ro *

@sassy-cat-in-town

@lilithlunas

@madam-ri

[bluerose5]

Hmm how about Halsin and Iron Bull (in whatever relationship dynamic you like!) commiserating after a fight with some goblins?

The kind of ship that snuck up on me out of nowhere. These two 100% took control of the fic and made it longer than what I intended, although I'm not complaining. 😌

...

One thing the Iron Bull never expected was for Halsin to admit to being a lightweight of all things.

While the tieflings' party was in full swing, he made his rounds throughout camp, took note of where everyone else's minds were at, his companions' especially, and he drank.

That was, until Bull realized the liquor on hand was some of the weakest shit compared to back home.

Still, it was a celebration, so he accepted drinks when offered, disgruntled by the fact that he was barely breaking a sweat over it.

Sobriety aside, he waited to speak with Halsin last, mostly because he wasn't quite sure what to make of him yet.

For one, he was big. Probably a little shorter than your average Qunari, but bigger than any elf Bull encountered in Thedas at least.

Secondly, he wielded magic different from most that Bull was familiar with, and the fact that majority of spellcasters in Faerûn didn't have to struggle against demons and possession in order to control their power...

Strange. Reassuring in a sense, but very strange.

When all was said and done, Bull figured no harm could come from getting to know the newcomer. This esteemed, knowledgeable "Archdruid" of theirs.

Who happened to be easy on the eyes —well, eye, singular— as well, but that was neither here nor there.

The Iron Bull sauntered up to him with a friendly smile, his head held high in a show of confidence.

"Well, it looks like I saved the best for last!" Bull greeted. "Settling in okay?" Before Halsin could answer, Bull interrupted. "Wait! Wait." He gave a dramatic pause. "I couldn't bear it if you said 'no.' Haha!"

He beamed at Halsin, who couldn't resist a snort of amusement, the corners of his eyes crinkled in delight.

Bull could practically hear Krem grumbling from there.

"Do not concern yourself with me. I am settling in just fine," Halsin assured him. "Of course, it always helps to have a host as gracious as yourself."

"Let's see if you still think that by the end of the night," the Iron Bull joked. He stood at Halsin's side, giving him a playful nudge with his elbow. "Seriously, though, that fight at that temple was great, yeah?" His heart raced at the memory. He leaned in, his voice low, appreciative. "You were incredible."

"Oh, come now," Halsin said, brushing off the compliment. "I don't know about that. You and your companions did most of the heavy lifting, after all."

"Don't downplay your role in our victory," Bull told him. "The sheer amount of goblins alone would have proved a challenge for anyone, but you cut through them like it was nothing." Try as he may, Bull couldn't help it, his eye trailing up and down Halsin's body. "All of that fury and rage, unleashed, directed at our enemies. You were a sight to behold, but tell the truth. You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

Halsin glanced at him, not even bothering to hide how his eyes raked over his frame in return.

"Perhaps," he allowed, taking a second to clear his throat. "I must admit, I have come to expect at least a hint of fear from outsiders in response to my wild shape."

"Heh," Bull chuckled. "I fought dragons before, pal. It's gonna take more than a big teddy bear like you to scare me away."

"Is that so?" Halsin raised an eyebrow at him, surveying the area around them. "Maybe I should work on that then. Everyone should maintain a healthy balance of fear and respect for nature."

"Trust me, I respect it plenty," Bull said, "but by all means, do your worst."

Halsin shook his head, smiling to himself.

"Tempting as that is, you surely have others to go mingle with. Don't let me keep you."

"Nah." Bull waved off that concern without second thought. "I've done more than my fair share of mingling for tonight. I want to get to know you better."

He gave him a playful poke to the arm.

"Hmm..." Halsin hummed in contemplation. "I wouldn't want to be selfish and rob others here of your company. I can wait until morning to speak with you at the very least."

"Which is fine, if that's what you want," the Iron Bull whispered, "but what if I want you to be selfish?"

Halsin searched his expression for any sign of deceit.

When such scrutiny proved fruitless, his entire demeanor shifted, more open to the idea compared to before.

"In that case," he responded, "will you tell me about one of your dragon hunts then?"

"Fuck yeah, I will!" Bull exclaimed, his excitement radiant like a flame.

He clasped a hand onto Halsin's shoulder, giving it a warm, companionable squeeze.

A small shiver shot down his spine, one that Bull was quick to watch with keen interest.

The Iron Bull reckoned that Halsin didn't know many people who towered over him. It was almost funny how often his gaze would level with Bull's pecs or wander farther below before darting up to his face yet again, as if he had to constantly remind himself that he was the shorter one for once.

Then again, maybe he just liked the sight of his chest. Bull couldn't fault him for that.

"Let's see. Let's see," Bull said, rubbing at his chin while he thought it over. "I could go simple. The first dragon I ever hunted alongside the Inquisitor was terrorizing the countryside we were in at the time. It was a Fereldan Frostback."

Already, his eye was glazing over at the tale, his voice taking on a tinge of admiration that bordered on reverence. Or as close to it as he could get.

"Extremely territorial, those ones, and damn if she wasn't a beauty. All of that raw, untamed power, but unfortunately for her, her territory happened to include a few defenseless villages that couldn't ward her off on their own. That's where we came in."

He wrapped his arm around Halsin's shoulders, drawing him in closer as he spoke, staring off towards a faraway land that was well beyond their reach for now.

"That sharp burst of air that rushed past as she swiped her tail at us. That loud ringing in our ears when she screeched at the skies. That molten heat that radiated in the air when she snapped her teeth at us, so close that we would have been her next meal, had we not rolled out of reach in time."

He bared his teeth into a grin.

"That was a good day," he all but growled. "A good day, indeed!"

Halsin shifted in place. Of course, it didn't escape Bull's notice how he eased closer to him in the process.

He stared at the Iron Bull with a mixture of heat and shock.

"You almost sound excited," he said, hesitant, not wanting to overstep his bounds.

Not that it deterred Bull in the slightest.

"That's because I am," Bull stated, unashamed. "Even now, something about it gets my blood pumping and my heart racing, more so than any other fight." He grunted loudly as he lingered on the memory. "Maybe it's in my blood."

"Your blood?"

"Yeah," he said, "rumor has it that there might have been some dragon's blood mixed into the Qunari's somewhere along the way." He shrugged. "No one knows for certain. Would be pretty badass, though, wouldn't it?"

"Definitely."

"Okay, now it's your turn."

"My turn?" Halsin questioned.

"To share. Come on," Bull encouraged. "You can't tell me that you don't have some wild stories stashed away."

"Well," Halsin launched into his tale without missing a beat, "it's not too different from yours. Back in my youth—"

"Nuh-uh, none of that," Bull interrupted. "You're not that old."

"I'll have you know that I am three hundred and fifty years young."

"Hot."

Bull smirked when that got a laugh out of him.

"I can admire anyone who is so open with their desires," Halsin said, "but shall I continue the story?"

"Oh, alright, I'll behave."

"Somehow I doubt that," Halsin teased, "but as I was saying, I was young and impulsive at the time, traveling and exploring the world to my heart's content. After indulging in nature's gifts on land for so long, life led me to the sea. Throughout my journey, I heard about a string of pirate attacks, led by a rogue band of water genasi. Their greed had already impacted several coastal villages by the time I caught wind of it."

Bull made a mental note to ask more about the race later, too intent on listening to the current story to venture off on another tangent.

"People were being taken from their homes, everyone from their children to the elderly. Those who relied heavily on fish as a staple found themselves on the brink of starvation. Resources were being drained. Their valuables were looted. Any who fought against the genasi were executed or enslaved, made an example of."

"But you stopped them?"

"Eventually," Halsin sighed, it obviously taking a toll on him that he couldn't save more than what he did. "I studied their movements, their tactics. At first, I would rally others behind me, wait until the genasi tried for an ambush, and attack then. But there were still too many deaths for my liking, so I went on the offensive. The locals provided me with a vessel of my own, and I sailed out into the open waters. I took the fight to them, grew more and more cocky with each ship I took down. I believed myself to be invincible, and that made me reckless."

"What happened next?" Bull asked, although he already had an idea.

"You clearly survived, though."

"I was taken prisoner. One of my attacks went exactly as I planned, but I didn't know that the genasi had others lying in wait, holding back until they saw the perfect opportunity to strike. They outnumbered me, enough so that they were able to overpower me, and that was that."

"That, I did. With me as their trophy, the band that captured me left the coastland for quite some time. About a year and a half passed, give or take a few months, but I forced myself to be patient throughout that time of servitude, difficult as it was. I earned the trust of the crew. And later, the captain.

"Then one day, I felt it. There was something stirring in the water, restless, massive in size. I could sense it, and part of me knew that it was my time to act.

"I convinced the crew that there was treasure, worthy of the gods, in some nearby wreckage. I made up a lie, said I recalled the area from my studies, and they believed me."

"You led them right into a trap," Bull said, impressed.

Halsin nodded.

"It was a kraken's territory," he explained. "A sea monster of great power and might. It rose up from its dark depths to confront us. The waters turned rough and formed a large, gaping vortex that threatened to consume us all. The winds whipped at blinding speeds. Storms formed that spewed lightning everywhere you looked. The kraken even managed to charm some of the crew into fighting under its thrall, so you can imagine how everything turned into a bloodbath from there."

"Damn." Bull released a low whistle, recalling a few stories he heard of dreadnoughts encountering an aban-ataashi —a sea dragon— while out on their patrols.

He imagined this creature must have been similar to cause so much destruction.

"Nothing against you or your skills, but I'm surprised you survived."

"You and me both," Halsin agreed. "I was so weak that I couldn't switch forms all that much at the time, but I managed to rely on some basic spells to keep me safe long enough to escape. I fought alongside the crew for a while to discourage any suspicion, but I stole one of the ship's work boats the second it was clear that the crew and the kraken were going to go down destroying each other. Through the gods' mercy alone, I managed to make it out of there. I watched both ship and kraken sink into the sea from afar, and I somehow survived until I found land once again."

"Okay, now that story deserves a drink," Bull said. "Or several. Care to share one with me?"

"In truth, I rarely imbibe," Halsin answered. "The stuff goes right to my head."

The sounds of the party returned to them then. Voices rose and fell. Squeals of delight and the clink of tankards greeted their ears.

People danced and swayed, stumbling around without a care in the world.

"Wait, really?" Bull asked, incredulous. "You're telling me that you can't hold your liquor?"

Somehow, that was even more unbelievable than him fighting a kraken.

Halsin laughed, holding his hands up in surrender.

"All I'm saying is that it won't take long before I'm breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I lay eyes on."

"Well, I mean, if you need a target to focus that energy on..." Squeezing him up against his side, Bull flexed his free arm, waggling his eyebrows at him. "I'm your guy."

"A tempting offer, I'll admit," Halsin said, admiring him openly.

"Plus, I've also been known to break into song here and there."

"Now, that, I have to see."

"Find me something stronger than the swill they serve around here," Bull challenged, "and you're on."

"Ah." As understanding dawned on him, Halsin flashed Bull a secretive smirk. "You thought that I meant that I can't handle the spirits such as those at this party." At Bull's confused look, Halsin clarified. "I keep a, uh, personal flask on hand for special occasions."

"No shit," Bull said, watching him closely, unable to keep his curiosity at bay. "You have your own recipe or what?"

"Something like that, and I have my pipe on me too, if you're interested."

"Don't have to tell me twice. Let's go make a little music, yeah?"

Amused, Halsin readily agreed.

They didn't even try to hide it as they ditched the party in favor of the surrounding forests, neither of them the type to sneak about in such a manner anyways.

They spent the rest of the night in high spirits under the stars, drinking, smoking, trading stories. And yes, singing rather terribly as well.

They fell asleep bathed in moonlight, and only when the rising sun bid them to wake did they return to camp together to discuss their next move.

[spacemagicandlaserswords]

Feral Hunter

I wrote most of this in a reblog but thought it deserved its own post as my unwieldy response took on a life of its own, which they have a tendency to do. I’ve added more to it as well so there’s some new extra ramblings on one of my favourite ideas/headcanons/theories for season 3 of The Bad Batch. 

Give me Feral Hunter. My kingdom for Feral Hunter. Completely unhinged, vengeance fueled, feral Hunter. He can go on his Joel Miller/The Mandalorian/John Wick/Liam Neeson in Taken/The Punisher arc, as a little treat.

I've been trying to figure out why I love this idea so much. I think it's because we never really see any of the Batch actually, properly unleash. Sure, they're unconventional and a bit bonkers in their approach but they're still a very well-oiled machine. When they're on a mission, they all know exactly what they're doing, what their roles are, and where their squad mates are. Even when they improvise on the fly, they all adapt fairly easily and smoothly. Everything is still all rather professional, smooth, and efficient. Like they're all operating on muscle memory, which they basically are given how many countless times I'm sure they've trained and done missions together.

Even when the Batch is fighting their way through Kamino, they still operate with that same smooth, efficient, hyper competent professionalism. Despite their unorthodox approach, there's still this sense that they're contained. Never throwing off the shackles and being completely unrestrained. The full unbridled force of their abilities and skills simmering just below the surface, waiting to be given free rein and just obliterate everything.

There's a little hint of this in the opening scene of episode 2x14 'Tipping Point', where the ARC Trooper in Echo comes out to play. But oh, how I would love to see more. From all of them, but especially Hunter. 

Look at his face. Look at that expression and all those emotions from Sergeant Stoic himself, who is usually fairly reserved and contained. Dorito Bod Bandana Space Dad on the warpath to get his ad'ika back, cutting a swathe through the Imperials, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, and taking out anything and everything that even thinks about getting in his way. Hunter goes full Space Rambo mode, ruthlessly taking out Stormtroopers, blood dripping off his vibroblade, eyes wide and deranged, as he turns into a complete animal. His half tattooed skull now completed by the blood of his enemies covering the other side of his face. For extra angst, when he finds Omega, she doesn’t recognise him. The figure standing in the smoking remains of the door to her cell looks like Hunter. Is wearing Hunter’s armour. Is holding Hunter’s vibroknife. But that’s not Hunter. That’s not her buir. Not anymore. And she’s afraid of him. We get a little hint of this at the very end of season 2 and oh ho ho, I am so ready for more. I am so ready for Hunter’s descent into vengeance, revenge and rage. Not just Hunter either, I’d love to see the rest of the Batch unleash as well.

Can you just imagine Wrecker properly unleashing? All of that strength and power finally freed as he rips limbs off Stormtroopers, snapping necks and crushing skulls with his bare hands. The crumpled, pulverised bodies of his enemies discarded behind him as he rages down corridor after corridor of whatever Imperial base they’ve infiltrated. We got a hint of how damaging Wrecker can be when his chip activated but that was chip controlled. This would just be pure Wrecker. 

We see a little more of this in Crosshair's actions and you could also argue that this is chip controlled. Or if his chip has actually been removed, then Crosshair’s actions are definitely still clouded by his Imperial mindset and blind delusion that the Empire is right. Right up until it all goes horribly wrong on Barton-4 and he finally wakes up to the reality of his nightmare. Either way, that unrestrained part of him is still there. The amount of rage and anger that must be building up and festering inside Crosshair is eventually going to explode. When he snaps like he did at the end of 'The Outpost' then there isn’t going to be an Imperial left without a blaster bolt between their eyes. When Hemlock ends up dying (he better), my bet is on Crosshair taking him out and getting revenge. And it won't be pretty. He'd shoot him execution style at the very least. 

I'd love to see Tech (shut up he's alive) completely lose it and finally snap off every ounce of his carefully crafted control. I've written about this before but Tech's combat is exceptionally efficient and precise. He only ever uses the minimum number of shots or moves to take out an enemy because he doesn't need to expend anything beyond what is necessary. Complete economy of form. His combat style is very contained, almost like a mirror of his personality and character. Can you just imagine him snarling and growling like a beast, teeth bared, eyes dark, face distorted in rage, as he slams a Stormtrooper's head into a control panel desk with enough force to crack their helmet and shatter their visor. 

I mentioned above that we've seen a tiny bit of this slightly unhinged quality from Echo. There's another little hint of it when they're all in that training simulation on Kamino.

This gifset from @starqueensthings shows this perfectly, especially the above gif. I love the line they wrote at the top of their post as well, which I'm going to quote in part here: "I’d like to introduce my scomp arm TO YOUR JUGULAR WIRE." This perfectly encapsulates the unhinged quality lurking in Echo. He just leaps onto the back of what looks like the Kaminoan version of a B2 super battle droid and then proceeds to flail and stab madly before plunging his scomp arm into the battle droid's chest and ripping out the droid version of its jugular. Absolutely unhinged behaviour. The absolute madlad.

Now picture Echo finally snapping and doing this to a bunch of Imperials and just absolutely annihilating them. There is so much in him that is screaming to be let out. The general batshittery that comes with being an ARC Trooper. The insanity and chaos of coming from the 501st and Torrent Company. The unconventional, yeet-the-reg-manual-out-the-airlock, bonkers existence of The Bad Batch. Plus all that trauma, fury and rage of what has happened to him, what was done to him, and everything that he’s seen, experienced, endured, suffered, and survived. When the last few frayed threads holding Echo back finally snap he is going to go completely postal.

Is it healthy? No. Is it "good"? Probably not. But my god, would I love to see it.

The Clone Wars has a history of tackling and portraying difficult, multilayered and nuanced topics and we've seen that in The Bad Batch as well. More recent Star Wars series, such as Andor and The Mandalorian, have also had a real interest in showing the murky areas that exist between the good (Republic) and the bad (Imperial). There's been a particular focus on showing that there's a lot more grey than we think, rather than the pure dichotomy between cliched black and white. That sometimes there is no right or wrong decision. That sometimes everything is awful and everyone is stuck in a shitty situation from which there is no way to escape unscathed. In order to make it out alive, lines are going to be crossed. The battle of good vs evil takes on a new edge and the line between good and bad gets very murky.

That quote about how “You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain” comes to mind. In this instance, the Batch are still fighting tooth and nail for each other but their sacrifices and actions are starting to take them to much darker places. It’s a classic example of good people being driven to do bad, awful, terrible things when those they love are in danger and they will do whatever it takes to save them.  

The whole 'deeply flawed parental figure seeking vengeance' is a popular trope at the moment as well so Feral Hunter would make sense narratively for a number of reasons.

Will we actually get it? Probably not. And even if we do, it'll probably still be a watered-down kid friendly version.

But oh, just imagine if we did.

[totkdaily]

Day 111: Confronting the Demon King

As prepared as I can be to fight the Demon King, alone, without Sages or Princess, I continue down the tunnels. 

The Imprisoning Chamber is no more. There is only another drop, too deep to see the bottom. I jump. 

How far down can I be now? Surely this must almost be the end? 

At the bottom, a heartbreaking sight. Zelda's torch.

It's lain here the whole time, for the almost four months it's taken me to get back here. Waiting. 

I drop my own torch, and pick hers up. It feels like a reassurance. Like a promise. 

I walk on. 

At the end of the tunnel, yet another drop. 

At the bottom, a gate of thorns and gloom.

And from it spills an army of gloom-ridden monsters. 

Just as I think I'll be overwhelmed, the Sages! The true Sages, not just their avatars. They must have been alerted when the connection broke. I'm so glad to see them. So honoured to fight with them. 

We fight wave after wave of the army. Bokoblins, Lizalfos, Gibdo, Moblins. Then the chamber rumbles, and all five of the monsters of the Temples emerge. The sages engage - and before I can join them, I'm walled off. 

This is deliberate, I am sure. The Demon King has singled me out to fight him alone. I only hope that they will defeat their fated enemies. I run on down the tunnel of gloom to meet the Demon King at last. 

He is waiting in a formation of rock and gloom built like a nest or a brazier. He speaks of the coming of the darkness, of his new world. 

And then… 

He is reborn in gloom and fire. His strength is returned. His power is full again. He steps carelessly from his cradle and stands before me, the epitome of a king as he was in my visions of the past. 

We're too late. But still, I must try. For Zelda. For my friends. 

We engage. 

At first, he seems almost underwhelming. He doesn't move fast, and I get a good set of hits in once I understand how he moves. 

But then it becomes clear that he's toying with me. He draws on the power of the secret stone, and transforms again as he did on the night he gained it, all those years ago. 

His gloom pools into copies of himself. I can't hope to- but then I hear Tulin's voice. 

I can't stop properly to see them, the Demon King just keeps coming - but I can hear my friends around me and I know they're fending off the copies as I wear down the Demon King. 

It's working. 

But then he draws his copies back into himself to unleash a whirl of gloom that knocks the Sages back and out of the fight. He had to use those copies up to do it, though. 

I face him again. 

He's quicker now. Scarily quick. I can barely get a hit on him. But my preparation holds me firm. And eventually, he falls. 

But then. He's so desperate not to lose. So desperate to not fail. He rips the secret stone out of his forehead. And consumes it. 

And changes.

Another dragon. Hatred incarnate. How can I even begin to fight that? 

I can't. He sweeps me up in his jaws, and launches through the castle itself to the sky. 

I can't get free. Then, out of the sky like a comet, the Light Dragon. Zelda.

She's so small beside him. But the distraction is enough to get me free - and when I fall, she catches me.

As I should have done for her, all those months ago. 

She tries to flee, but he's bigger and faster and won't let her go. Finally, we stand.

The Princess and her Swordsman against Hatred Incarnate. As it always should have been. 

I don my flight suit. And we engage him together. 

I dive again and again, attacking eye-covered growths along the length of the Demon King dragon.

Again and again, Zelda catches me. The Blood Moon rises behind us. Until at last, I plunge the Master Sword into the sacred stone on his brow.

He roars and twists in the air, but he cannot escape it. 

The Demon King, Ganondorf, is destroyed.

[lilac-den]

Feverish Understanding.

A snippet of TSR's MC and Benefactor, a year after the tragedy.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

"Go away." I groan out with difficulty, the scratch at the back of my throat leaving me less than hospitable to whoever is crazy enough to knock on my door.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Jesus fucking Christ. I lift my heavy eyelids open and glare at the wall in front of me.

The knocks on the door are still three, but there is a rhythm to it; the first knock comes out hard, but the second knock is softer than the first.

Then the third is just a vicious bang, like the person put a lot of power to make it as loud as possible.

Only one person knocks this way.

I move out of my bed with my blankets curled around me, my hands gripping the fabric as I waddle my way out of my room to the front door. Using one hand to hold my blanket together and the other to grab the door knob, I swing the door open.

"Hello, little nightlight!"

Of course.

I stare at Benefactor, with zir trademark grin and a plastic bag full of unknown items. Ze is in a suit again, this time with a navy blue color. The tie around zir neck is of a dark green color again, another trademark of zir.

I frown quizzically.

"Benefactor," I start, "I didn't know there's another mission today."

"Oh, there isn't." Ze lifts the bag up as emphasis for...well, something, "But I figured I drop by my favorite beneficiary."

"I'm your only beneficiary."

"And you know I only pick the best." Ze counters my statement off lightheartedly, "Mind if I come in?"

I open my mouth, ready to give a response. But ze doesn't even wait as ze strolls in, easily so given how my body feels like a lump right now. As if ze's aware of it, Benefactor grabs me by the biceps and holds me steady before pursing zir lips together.

"Wow, you really are sick."

I swat zir hands off of me. "I'll manage." Despite my words, Benefactor doesn't seem the least bit interested in leaving my apartment. Rather, ze moves to close the door behind zim before trying to drape one of my arms around zir shoulder.

"Come on, be a good employee and let me handle you."

"Who are you, my-" My words get cut off, something tickling my throat hard enough to unleash a coughing fit.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Really now, nightlight, you should have called."

"Call my boss that I can't do my work because I'm sick?" I scoff. "Unethical in our society, don't you think?"

"But I'm not like other bosses, am I?"

I cough again and the phelgm that has been in my throat for a while gets ejected onto my tongue. I furrow my brows and Benefactor manages to grab a tissue while walking me to my couch. Once I sit down, ze offers the tissue to me. I grab it. "Thanks."

"I already told you that sick days are allowed."

"And I think I told you-Mmph!"

I find myself holding a stick between my lips. I look down, just in time to see the digitized thermometer as the numbers go higher and higher until-

"41 degrees." Benefactor clicks zir tongue and I rip the thermometer out of my mouth.

"You-cough!-Wouldn't it kill you to cool it with the mo-cough!-mother hen act?"

"Oh come now, does it kill you if I have a heart?"

I open my mouth to respond but all that comes out is another series of coughs. I take a moment to glance up at zir face, the way Benefactor has that expression of uncertainty.

"You must rest, nightlight."

"I'm..." The heat on my face and the dizziness seems to increase.

"Nightlight? Oi, nightlight!"

My vision turns black soon after.

~~~

Something is stroking my head. There's nothing dangerous about it.

The hand is coarse, but it's also gentle and soothing somehow. I sigh, sinking myself into that warmth.

It's like Ittania is the one stroking me. But this hand is much too large for it to be hers.

The hand disappears but what comes after is something soft covering me. It brings the picture of Maverick tucking me in.

"I'll be right back." Someone tells me. This voice has a soft tone, like Rydigan's. But it is too deep to be his.

A gentle squeeze on my hand. The strength is stronger than Enid's, but no less warm. I fell asleep before I even realize it.

The next time I gain a sense of consciousness, the smell of something boiling forces me awake.

Who's cooking?

I open my eyes wearily and face the ceiling, the setting on one of the light sources in this room on a dim brightness. I still smell the scent.

It reminded me how it's been a year since I lost my sense of smell for food. Or taste.

They all just taste empty to me.

I will my body to move, to sit up from my bed and fight against the fever that plagues me. A heaviness weighs in my mind but I pay no heed.

I raise my eyes and find the figure of Maverick sitting on the lone chair in the room. I can still remember that disapproving gaze of his - a mixture of worry added in.

"I don't need rest." I mumble to him, yet knowing him to be merely a conjured up imagination.

The figure doesn't say a word. I get off my bed and head for the door.

The one standing in my way for it is Ittania now, with her arms crossed and a pout on her face. I move my hand for her.

She slips away from me, leaving me with the cold air instead of her body's warmth.

"[Name]..."

I don't need to turn around to know it's Rydigan. I grab the doorknob and swing the door open.

And Enid is there, staring at me.

A part of me still aches. But I have dance this tune much too often. I close the door behind me, keeping my body away from hers.

I still feel cold from my attempt with Ittania.

I make my way for the kitchen with silent steps, following the source of the smell until I see Benefactor.

Ze's wearing a soft green apron, with hand stirring a pot full of soup and the other holding a bowl.

"Still there?"

I sigh at zir question and step deeper into the room till I'm near zim. "Yeah."

Benefactor nods in understanding. Ze knows I have ghosts hanging onto me, no matter how many therapists, drugs or treatments I get. Whatever therapists that didn't try to scam me for my money usually said this was my survivor's guilt talking, that I was traumatized over being the witness and sole survivor of a tragic tragedy.

Benefactor, who abhorred their assumptions, told me it was simply me not wanting to let them go, that I felt more guilt in not being there for them than outliving them.

I couldn't agree with zim more

"You cook?" I start a conversation with zim and Benefactor doesn't bat an eye.

"The fact you ask me that means I'll have to do so more often." Benefactor pours the soup in a small bowl, the liquid releasing hot steam. Ze passes the soup to me. "Remember to blow before drinking."

"I'm not a child."

Ze chuckles. "Of course not. I'm reminding you as an adult."

I roll my eyes at that and blow on the surface and edges of the liquids before taking the smallest sip. Much to my surprise, the soup tastes...fine.

No, rather than fine-

"How is it?"

"I can taste this."

Benefactor nods, pauses then asks again. "Do you truly?"

"It's not a lot," I start, "but the fact I can taste even the salt is something."

Benefactor chuckles. "I'm not surprised. This had been an old recipe, one of a kind."

"Then how did you learn it?"

Ze stirs zir spoon into the soup, mixing the ingredients and spices within. "Someone taught me to."

I furrow my brows. "That's vague."

"I've always been vague," Ben answers without much to reveal any deeper meaning on that. I watch zim stir, again and again...

"What were they like?"

Ben stops stirring. A stony silence.

I look at zir face but it's an unreadable one, unlike the usually mad grin ze adopts. But zir black eyes remind me of what I see every time I look in the mirror since the incident.

I open my mouth. "It's okay if-"

"They were beautiful."

I stare blankly at the words Ben speaks out. The first set of words to escape zim. But more than that, zir black eyes have softened considerably. It's like the inky, black void turns calm and gleams with a light I've never seen before.

Then ze turns to me and zir gaze darts to my bowl.

"Drink up before it gets cold."

[tulipanthousa]

ahdkfkfhd so basically to them virgil is like those guys in highschool that is like super into anime and walks around in a trenchcoat/cosplay and says stuff like "ha just wait until i unleash my full power"

yes, but additionally unsettling enough that if the cops come around in a couple hours telling you someone got murdered in the alley he's at the very tippy top of the list of people you suggest they look into.

the whole look and vibe together gives an (inaccurate, but not completely off base) vague only-not-a-stalker-because-he-bagged-someone-already aura.

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Obsession Hanging 'Round My Neck Like a Noose: Part 3.

HAAGH!

REAAGH!

*KAAA-BOOOOOOOOM!*

*Nagito, his body shattering and his jacket ripped, powers up, his body sending out a blue bio-electricity. He and Zetsubou's rocket-powered enforcer exchange blows all over the transit tunnel at high speeds.

HA-TCHAA!

WOAH!

*CRRRAASSSH!*

*Nagito attempts to derail the trains with a superpowered spin kick, missing Narumi in the process, but the wind pressure of the kick cuts straight through multiple tracks.

!!!!

!!!!

*Narumi hits out, but before she can counterpunch, Nagito catches her fist and knocks her aside. Nagito can hardly keep up with Narumi's rapid pace, but he just manages to do so repeatedly, making Narumi increasingly more frustrated.

*BOOM!*

Huh!? Wh-Where'd she-!?

Hey! Wanna see something cool!?

KaaaaaaameeeeehaaaaameeeeeeHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

*BSSSHHFWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!!*

Oh crap...! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGH!

*Narumi leaps into the air once more in the midst of the brawl, putting her arms together in front of her (in a gesture honestly more akin to the Final Flash than the Kamehameha) and aiming directly at the ground. She then unleashes the biggest, deadliest, most powerful, and hottest blow she has yet demonstrated! The wide-impact explosion that zeroes in on Nagito tears apart the entire tunnel as well as multiple trains and tracks, blowing a ginormous hole in the side of the giant factory building! Nagito sprints down the tracks, hoping against hope to outpace the massive explosion.

*CRAASH!*

Grgh! Haaah...! Haaah...! Haaaaah...!

*Nagito makes his escape, his coat just barely being singed by the explosive flames, as he bursts through several walls until he gets outside the factory, collapsing to all fours out of exhaustion.

(She wasn't kidding about sacrifices...She's willing to blow this entire factory up to defeat me! If I don't take her out soon, she'll level the entire institute and kill everyone!)

*Nagito heaves heavy breaths as he climbs to his feet. But then he thinks about it for a moment.

(...No...No, that's not how things are at all. Desperate victories and fighting like your life depends on it has never been Narumi's MO...)

(She's going all out because she's been looking for an opportunity like this her whole life...A serious fight against a powerful opponent like me...She's unleashing everything she's got out of respect, and for fun! Not necessity!)

(...Almost like she was waiting for this fight for a long time...Could it be that she brought me into Zetsubou just for this very purpose? I don't know if she could have predicted everything that's happened, but knowing her, I wouldn't put it past her.)

*KRABOOM!*

Huh!?

There ya are! I thought I'd swallowed you in that blast for a second! You weren't thinking of running away, were you?

...No...I just needed a moment to think. You were right! I really can't afford to pull my punches with you! If I do, it's the end for all of us...

*His body starts crackling blue electricity again.

You want me!? COME AND GET ME!

With pleasure...! TERYAH!

*FWOOM!*

Hah!

*BOOOOM!*

GAAAGGH!?

HOOOOOYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAGH!

*BOOM!* *BOOM!* *BOOM!* *BOOM!* *BOOM!* *BOOM!* *BOOM!*

G-GUUAAAGGHH!

*Narumi, full of energy, shoots an arcing projectile at Nagito, who avoids it, only for the blast to hit an oil tanker behind him and leave him to suffer the full force of a lethal explosion. Narumi kicks the hapless Ultimate Hope into the flames and zips around quickly, launching an assault on Nagito while he's caught off guard.

HYAGH!

WOAH!

*CRAACK!*

...

...?

*SHWOOSH!*

AH-!?

*BOOOM!*

*Narumi winds up a downward pummel and punts Nagito back towards the wall of the factory, but he recovers in time and lands on the wall with his feet. He shoots one last spiteful glance back at his old friend, then suddenly runs directly up the wall to the top of the factory building. Narumi uses her explosions to chase him.

[tavyliasin]

ATG 10 - Cat? Claw

In which the master of the house comes home.

Pairing: Haarlep/Tav /Raphael SPICE Rating: 5/5 - this is my peak, loves. Content Warnings:  Sex, BDSM, Power Play, group sex, voyeurism,   

Spoilers Act 3, House of Hope Canon Compliance Canon Is....boring. There's very little hint of canon here, it's purely indulgent. Other Notes (from the original release) I don't have more for now it's just a continuation of 9 and I let all my hinges go for you darlings it's out there now and I'm in my smuttiest era.

Post release note - mmhmm well indeed, my era continued from here, I'm still loving it~ Thanks, Past Lia, you did wonderfully~

Song/Mood Move Your Body by My Darkest Days "The two of us will fuel this fire No way in hell we're slowing down tonight Then just for fun take your tongue and run it over my lip And gotta love the way she does it for the hell of it We're in positions that most people only say they know. You got your hand on a landmine, ready to blow But the devil can hear you when you say... C'mon and get up (get up), move your body Use your body, lose control. Rub it right up, against my body Use my body, make it yours."

----- FULL CHAPTER BELOW THE CUT -----

Raphael frowned across the table. This should have been an easy contract to make, a simple soul wanting to save his business making shoes or watches or… Raphael did not care. It didn’t matter. It was a simple thing to grant a little talent, to pull a few strings and manipulate the world to turn in favour of his designs. Just as easy, too, to pull it all away again should the debtor refuse to hold up their end of the bargain.

Today, however, his mind was being intruded by unwelcome thoughts. Across the planes, a heat kept prickling his skin. Even in his human guise, he felt moments of sensation in the place his tail would be. Haarlep. He allowed his personal incubus their proper name only in his thoughts for now. They enjoyed it too much if he spoke it aloud in their presence, so he withheld it from them as their prize for doing a good job. The kind of good job that he was thinking about now instead of whatever this peasant was rambling on about.

He cursed under his breath as his knee struck the table, another reaction to whatever Haarlep was doing with his body at home. For hells’ sake, wench, can you not wait until I return? Even his thoughts were laced with the venom he was preparing to unleash on the unruly incubus. There was an agreement about when and where they were allowed to use him and today was not on the agenda.

“Yes, yes, everything you want will be yours in short order, Korilla will fill you in on the details. Now, if you will excuse me I have other business to attend to.” He stood without waiting for the peasant’s reply, barely registering the look of perplexed frustration glaring daggers at his back as he stepped out of the dusty little shop. It didn’t take long for him to reach the brothel, quickened steps threatening to break the wood of the staircase as he swept into the room he kept for more important deals and cast open the portal.

Stepping through the shimmering magic and into Avernus in an instant, Raphael absent mindedly licked his lips, the hint of heat there was about to make a lot more sense.

In front of him, he could see that mirrored image of his own back, wings spread wide and shielding him from seeing the full scene.

“Well, well, well,” the master of the house spoke with a practiced air of calm irritation, “I don’t believe we had any scheduled guests today. And what, or rather who, the FUCK do you think you are doing, Harlot?” He spat out the greeting, the calm slipping away word by word. He was just about ready to dispatch whoever it was who had the audacity to lay in his bed, using his personal incubus. The very same who now folded their wings and turned to face him, fingers still buried deep in the body that lay bound on the bed, arms back, legs open, on full display and not even looking in his direction.

“Little Mouse?-”

---

Tav couldn’t hear anything that was going on around her. Her entire mind and body had given over to Haarlep’s control, and gods did it feel so good. Even now their tongue had ceased lavishing its lies of affection, the ground itself warping beneath her with the intensity of pleasure that pulsed through her, she barely noticed the emptiness it left. Fingers were still slowly, methodically teasing out the core of her desire…but the heat within her was spiralling out of control. Dangerously. But perhaps not as dangerous as the wave of rage that washed through the room with the presence she was incapable of noticing.

---

Haarlep stared defiantly back at the intruder. Well, intruder wouldn’t be quite right, this was his house, but he was not the master in this room. But with their guest upon the bed, appearances could be a problem. “She doesn’t know you’re here, not yet.” They warned, idly licking the still heated taste of her from their lips, fingers continuing their work. “Luckily for you, she’s enthralled. Unluckily for her, she took a little too much of a taste of my saliva.” “I do not recall giving you permission to play with my toys.” Raphael stood still, arms folded, though his eyes kept drifting to Tav’s writhing body and away from the incubus’s amused smirk. “I certainly did not give you permission to break them.” “Well then Archduke, might I humbly suggest that the master of the house deal with his own problems?” Haarlep stared defiantly, reaching down to touch themselves in just the way that Raphael would feel it. “If she isn’t sated, that fun little mind might just burn to a crisp.” The cambion stood, unmoving, still in his human form. “Enthralled, you said?” “Yes. Entirely. All she can feel,” they punctuated their point by drawing another moan from her throat. Raphael swallowed involuntarily. “All she can see, hear, is me. Of course it would be the matter of a moment to release her attentions-”

“No.” He replied far too quickly. “No…” Much slower that time, drawing it out as he stroked his chin in idle thought. “Not yet. As you seem to have been enjoying yourself so far, perhaps you should continue whilst you explain exactly how this came about. I shall decide what to do based on your answers.” Haarlep might have been surprised by the shift from Raphael’s usual combative tone, but they knew him far too well. He was calculating, intrigued, and the possibilities were delighting Haarlep no end. They didn’t have any need to fear the wrath of the master of the house, they knew exactly how many lines they could cross without his ire burning them like so many foolish debtors. No, with a new player on the board the game had only changed. They weren’t sure whether to pity or envy the writhing elf, moans increasing as they pressed a thumb precisely where it was needed to draw tiny circles around oversensitive nerves. Oh she was going to prove to be quite the banquet, they might even feel sated for a full week after this.

They quietly observed Raphael, who simply reclined himself in a lavish armchair facing the bed. Ah, so that’s how he wants to play it, they mused. “So, your permission? Nicely, or I might change my mind and make you do all the work.” “Fine, Haarlep, you may have her at your leisure. She did ask for it, did she not?” Raphael was feeling unseasonably generous. This could work in his favour after all, and he didn’t even mind watching the incubus’s wings fluttering in delight at hearing their proper name. The bitch might just earn it. “So very generous of you to give me exactly what you want~” Haarlep gave him just the slightest hint of a wink as they finally stopped working their fingers inside Tav. She lay there breathless, skin flush with heat and longing, not quite able to form words yet. Haarlep looked the master of the house directly in the eye now, licking the flavours from their fingers with well practiced seduction, sliding their other hand inside the lower part of the harness and gripping tightly.

Naturally, Raphael’s bond was stronger when they were in the room together. Instead of the fleeting whisper of feeling, he could now feel the clawed talons gripping him, taste the hint of the Little Mouse’s lust on the tip of his tongue- “Do not leave her long, now. Break her, and I assure you that you will regret it.” “As you wish~” Their reply was playful, but they felt the weight of the threat. “She seemed disappointed that I wasn’t you, you know. But she was more than willing, for all of this, just to learn a few petty little secrets .” They bent down between Tav’s still bound legs, gripping her hip with one hand whilst the other worked themselves - and by extension, Raphael - thrusting their tongue inside to savour every shudder of pleasure they could wring from their new favourite plaything.

“And you kept your mouth shut?” Still in his human form, he began to loosen the fine silks that were beginning to feel like a noose. His ears burned as a low wail reverberated through the room, the almost pitiable mortal writing and shaking as another climax was coaxed from her burning body. Haarlep raised their head slowly, allowing their horns to rake a path along Tav’s inner thighs. “I was not born last century, Archduke. ” They pressed their own clawed nails into themselves, barely registering the pain as Raphael hissed between clenched teeth. “Now do enjoy the show, won’t you?” ---

Tav’s head was spinning. All she could see before her was the sea of flame red skin taut over rippling muscles, wide wings spread above her, wicked horns and hair that was still somehow completely smoothed. They had been looking…somewhere…saying something.. None of it had registered over the waves of aftershock still coursing through her entire being. If it weren’t for the vines still holding her tightly in place, she was almost certain she would have ascended through the ceiling itself some time ago.  

Haarlep bent over her now, gripping her chin and forcing her to look directly into their eyes. The whole plane seemed to be consumed in their gaze, their voice travelling directly from her ears to somewhere far lower. “Found your voice again yet, Little Rat? I told you when we began, you would have use of my name. Tell me, clearly now. What do you want?” Her voice was hoarse, but she forced her tongue and lips to form the words of her desires. “I want you, Haarlep.” Their wings shuddered an approval, drawing a slightly frustrated sigh from somewhere on the other side of the room. A noise that had no chance of reaching Tav’s ears as Haarlep tightened their grip on her chin. “Oh I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that, Rat. You want me to what ?”

“I want you,” she rasped, “to fuck me. Ruin me. I can’t…” Her voice left her, as her desperate eyes sought approval, confirmation, reassurance that she would get what she needed . “Good, little rat, good. You are doing so very well~” They spoke to her, through her, with a voice dripping with seductive approval. They had her exactly how they wanted her. Helpless, desperate, yearning and oh how they did love to taste it all. They breathed deeply, drinking it in like the finest of wines. But they would not ignore a plea, not when she had begged so beautifully for them.

Raphael watched silently, attention completely captured by the sight further unfolding. Haarlep removed their harness with a wave of their hand, magic was always so much easier than wasting time on buckles. He respected that, even as he sat with his shirt half open, focused entirely on every move his perfect living mirror made. They knew how to seduce him, and watching it work on the Little Mouse, well that was new, it was enticing. Usually the fiend simply concealed himself in another part of the room, reading a book and lazily allowing the sensations to pass over him and through him without getting involved. His invited guests got what they wanted, sex with his body, but he didn’t have to bother with any of the effort or showmanship. Haarlep provided all of that, and fed on the energy they made. A fine contract. But this was not a time he was content to sit back and ignore the proceedings. No, seeing Haarlep running his hands - no, their hands - across the Mouse’s body, drawing forth gasps and moans as they teased her, pressing against her but denying her the satisfaction of entering her until she was almost completely broken. Watching her struggle against the vines that held her, even as Haarlep’s first thrust filled her entirely with his - no, their… The line between his own body and the copy that filled his senses with the experience he should have only been witness to, that line was fast becoming a blur. This was…different. The feeling of being utterly filled by Haarlep whilst the echoes of his own muscles tightened around him was not the same as only having the phantom of her gripping, squeezing, the lewd sounds of her ragged breath and desperate whimpering only making him more…more what? I’m not fucking jealous, I don’t want-

---

Tav rolled her head back as another orgasm swept through her. She didn’t know how long they’d been here, she barely remembered how she even got here, if someone asked her name she would likely get it wrong . But, gods, it did not matter. Not now. 

Above her, Haarlep was relentless. Changing their rhythm every time she thought she was used to the pressure, the friction of hard ridges stimulating nerves she didn’t even know she had. Their voice filled her ears with praise, assurances, everything she didn’t know she wanted to hear as the sound shuddered through her body directly to her core. Tav lit up again, the fire rising, swelling, and bursting in a wave of ecstasy. She strained against the vines, writing for more friction as she rode out the orgasm for the…well she had no idea how many it had been now, she was the beach and their waves kept crashing over her time after time after glorious fucking time. The last corner of her mind clinging desperately to reason, was screaming danger , yelling into the eye of the storm that giving over any further would mean certain death, crying out for a saviour to pull her from the depths of bliss before it swallowed her whole.

---

“Enough.” Raphael stood beside the bed, unsure of how his feet had carried him there, but completely certain of his command. “She isn’t done, you know.” Haarlep tilted their head towards the still all-too-human for their liking Raphael. “Should I release her?”

“Not yet.” He made a swift gesture and an aura of darkness surrounded them. Only the fiend and his incubus could see through the magic, see how Tav blinked in the dark, pulling harder to reach where she last knew Haarlep to be. “Now.” Haarlep released their concentration, allowing the effects of the Enthrall to fade away. Had the darkness not been cast, she would’ve been able to see the look that passed between the devils above her, the silent mouthing of words, the nod of understanding.

---

Tav heard the voice again, breath hot and close to her ear. “Do you want more, Little Mouse?” There was no touch, only sound, and it did nothing to ease the burning ache of need.

“P..please…” Only a single word left her lips, not a thought behind it, not even realising her nickname had changed.

“All our Little Thief wants to do is take .” The sound from the other side, Tav turned her head in vain trying to reach the source. “Then it is about time for the Mouse to take the bait .” She turned again, confused, wanting, unable to untangle her lust enough to see the truth. The next time the voice… voices spoke, it was in an infernal stereo, the heat from two sets of lips burning at her ears and finally bringing her to a very distinct realisation. “We will end your delicious suffering, soon.”

Tav’s mind damn near folded in half as she felt not 2 but 4 hands seeking every oversensitive nerve in her tormented body. It didn’t matter that she had been completely caught in the trap, found in a room she didn’t belong, because the owner of that room had stepped out of her wildest dreams and into shudderingly vivid reality. She wished she could see, but she could tell by the difference in their fingertips that Raphael was still in his human form. Cherries, she could smell them now as lips pressed to her throat. Greedy, messy, devouring. Cinnamon still drifted through the air from Haarlep too, though it seemed they had moved to her legs, alternating between massaging her muscles and digging their claws in to draw blood. Pleasure and pain, everything they had promised, with the greed of the house’s master- Between their ministrations she could hear moments of bickering, instructions passing to and fro accompanied by insults. By the time they release her from the vines that held her, she wasn’t sure which one she wanted to reach out for. But it was human lips that stole a passionate and needy kiss, while his hand took a firm grip around her throat. Tav nearly choked on the tongue that seemed to want to draw her soul out with pure avarice, but she held on, following where she was lead as the pair pulled her up to her knees only to press her back down on to all fours. “Go on, behind, at the back where you belong. You will work for what you want, whether you like it or not.” One voice snapped, a clear command but hard to make sense of who exactly it came from when they shared the same intonations.  But the order was not for Tav, it was for… Well that was surprising. Cherry scent gave way to cinnamon, clawed hands caressed her neck, lifting her chin.

Haarlep’s thumb pressed on her bottom lip, encouraging her to open her mouth for them, just as she felt the vines coil around her body once more. This time her wrists were held firm, with the vines reaching further up to help her arms support her weight. Her legs, however, were not bound alone. She felt the heat of bare skin, the pressure of him behind her, his knees between her own where she knelt on all fours. The vines coiled around them both, thighs pressed together with maddening heat, a final whipping noise from somewhere in the darkness behind her not striking her own flesh but drawing out a tortured groan as he sank deep into her in a swift and brutal motion. Tav gasped, almost choking at the shock of being filled in a split second, but as soon as her mouth was open she had a new reason to choke. Hardened ridges of hot skin grazed her tongue, enticing her to taste. Behind her, vines creaked and whips cracked in the hot air punctuating each thrust with a punishing rhythm. Fingers grasped at her hips, her back, trying to find purchase anywhere just to hold on as the incubus’s infernal laughter echoed around the chamber.

---

Tav’s moans were muffled, but music to Haarlep’s ears. This could hardly be a better day for them, they even decided they’d leave their deal off the table…for now. Raphael was right, this toy was not one they wanted to break. All the potential they saw was now blooming brightly even within the haze of magical darkness that blinded the eyes trying to look up at them. “Don’t stop now, Little Rat, that’s it…feel everything.” Their hands caressed her hair with a deceptive care, right before their tail whipped around from behind them to strike her between her shoulder blades, gentle fingers now clawing into her scalp to keep them in her mouth even as she moaned around ridged flesh.

They cast their gaze back to Raphael, his expression somewhere between a white hot rage and undiluted lust that was destroying his sense of reason.

“Satisfied, Archduke?” They asked, not giving a single care for the answer. They knew. They knew he could feel himself enveloped by her, feel himself filling her entirely from both sides, but they would not let him release yet. Too soon and it may not be enough to soothe the heat of the single kiss that took everything too far. Or perhaps that was just their excuse to keep this going as long as they could, searing it into their mind with every exquisite detail. Haarlep’s wicked mind worked fast, their own toes beginning to curl at the prospect even as the lewd tongue flickering around them tried to drive them to their end. Not yet, they hissed to themselves, the practice of subduing their own climax as easy as blinking. Not so for Raphael, however. The incubus raised a hand, a few motions from their fingers weaving a new design. The latest vine rose up and caught the fiend at the base in a moment between tortured thrusts, the mage hand lashing the whip with precise intervals to keep his pace. The binding would be enough to hold him from release until the true master of the room allowed it. “Harlot.” The fiend complained, the insult little more than a word swallowed by the other sounds being drawn from his throat. It was the kind of complaint made in vain, however. He was greedy, desiring to find release, but he would enjoy it more if made to wait for permission. “Now, if you please, Archduke,” the incubus commanded, the last part of this plan sliding into place, “assume your true form.”

---

Tav was enveloped, consumed, the heated thrusts filling her entirely from in front and behind. She had long since given up on listening to them talk, only letting their voices wash over her and through her, a lullaby of lust as she sank into the sensation. She could feel the sting of fresh bruises from the tail lashing down on her spine, fingers clawing into her hips, the vicious crack of a whip with far less gentle care than the blows on her own flesh driving the fiend to take her entirely. Then she felt the change. The growing, the friction of new ridges of hot and hardened flesh grinding against nerves so tightly bundled that she would have screamed if she had the breath to spare.

It was divine. She was desperate and between them they filled every needy little desire burning her up.

---

“Just a little more, sweet Thief, and you will take everything you wanted~” Haarlep spoke quietly this time, their words meant only for one set of ears. For the other, they sought their reward. “Tell me. Is this everything you desire?”

“You are well aware-” the reply was cut off by another crack of the whip, a firm reminder of what was expected now. “Haarlep, enough-” They glared at him now. A second and much sharper blow cut his voice down to a keening whimper. “Haarlep, please.”

“Very well, Raphael. Do as you wish.” They released the vine holding back his climax, and threw their head back, allowing the senses to rush into them, filling them with the most delicious banquet they could have hoped for as a symphony of pleasure played the melody of their own composing.

--- Tav felt the final climax throw her over the edge and almost entirely out of her body. Clawed hands held her head as she swallowed, while behind, below, a powerful pulsing sent waves of bursting light through her entire being.

She barely noticed the vines receding, the strong arms that caught her torso before her limbs could give way. The whole world was so far away, but nothing mattered. The heat was finally quenched, whether she recognised how close she had come to turning to ashes or not her body finally cooled. Tense muscles released, but bruises were beginning to swell angrily, interspersed with blood flecked claw marks.

---

“You went too far.” Raphael snarled, pulling Tav’s body towards him and leaning her against his chest.

“I went as far as I had to go. I told you, she took too much from me because what she really wanted was you . I gave her that much. You also seemed to enjoy yourself quite thoroughly~” Haarlep laughed, stepping off the bed and walking a little ahead towards the wide open bathing pool on the other side of the room. A small power move, tail swishing happily as they swayed their hips in a mockery of seduction.”She will be fine, bring her over.” Without much choice in the matter, the fiend scooped the exhausted elf up against his chest, tail guiding her weak arms to wrap around his shoulders. To an outsider, it might’ve looked like a lover’s carry, tender arms hooked under knees that had long since gone limp, one hand holding her head against him as she made soft noises now, a barely conscious mess in the aftermath of unbearable lust.

Clawed feet clicked on the hard stone floor, careful footsteps finally arriving at the water’s edge. It was cool, soothing, from the first moment his toes broke the surface. The cambion lowered himself gently into the bath as his incubus scattered scented petals through the water, preparing soaps, oils and salves.

“Such a beautiful canvas, don’t you think? And so wonderfully painted~” Haarlep purred happily, completely satisfied, as they sank into the water beside Raphael. They caressed the hair of their new favourite toy with a smile. “Next time-”

“Next time? Have you forgotten whose home this is? Whose-” The angry snarl was cut off by a sigh from within his arms. The water was beginning to do its work. “Now, now, you can bicker with me later.  Now how about you take proper care of your Little Mouse?” They stroked the wounds they’d inflicted on the cambion’s own back, digging a talon in one moment and soothing the swollen welts with balms the next.

For his part, the master of the house was carefully holding Tav in his lap, letting the healing pool slowly do its work, watching as wounds knitted closed and allowing her to relax further until only her head was above water.  “I could so easily just drown you right here, Little Mouse, and you’d never even know.” He mused, mostly to himself. There was as little chance of her hearing him as there was actual intention behind his words. “Oh you would never.” Haarlep laughed, not letting the chance to mock their so-called master slip through their clawed fingers. “Let her up a little again, that filthy hair needs a wash. Even a Little Rat should get clean now and then.”

“Rat,” Raphael tested the word, deciding it felt entirely wrong on his tongue, “where did that come from?”

“Never you mind about that,” they deflected his comment easily, pouring a little scented soap into their hands and working it into Tav’s hair, carefully massaging her scalp. “Just wash her body down, and use that salve on the bruises, if you please.” Her eyelids fluttered a little, but he could feel her body had yet to regain its strength, muscles completely relaxed in the most dangerous place she could possibly be…and yet she could also be no safer than held between two fiends in the middle of Avernus. The irony might have amused her, had she been able to form a thought yet.

---

Tav was somewhere. Drifting, her consciousness afloat in another space, barely aware of the soothing feeling of gentle hands and healing waters. One by one, her senses returned to her. She moaned softly at the feeling of claws gently combing through her hair, the scent of the soaps warm and delightful. The other warm thing was the…pillow? Wall? Whatever soft and firm thing it was that she was laid against.

“A lost little mouse, scurried through the house, looking for all the things she should not find. Footsteps, tippy tap, the mouse tripped the trap, leaving all her dreams behind.” The rumbling of the deep voice vibrated through the wall…no, the chest, her head was leaning on.

Her eyelids fluttered, the world still a blur of ambient light, the feeling of cool water becoming clearer as she moved her fingers to test if they were still there at all. All present and accounted for, she thought, relieved. There were places on her body that stung and ached, but this seemed to be dissolving away.

“Slowly, Little Mouse, do not run too fast. Trip now, and the fall could be your last.” The voice was closer now as she became more fully present in her body.

Tav suddenly realised who it belonged to, a swell of panic rising up from her guts as that little part of her mind that had been screaming danger for hours finally made itself heard. Oh fu-“Drink up, Thief. You might as well enjoy the spoils of your adventures to the full~ Oh, and consider the deal on hold, for now.” The owner of the second voice came into view, holding out a large chalice. “Drink first, there’s food after. You did so very well, I’m almost impressed.” They understated their satisfaction, unwilling to give too much praise to a mere scrap of a mortal…yet not withholding their smile either.

“We can discuss exactly what in the hells you were doing here later. I look forward to hearing your excuses, Little Mouse, so do make them entertaining.” His voice was cold and flat, yet his arms remained around her, not yet willing to cast her aside even though she was recovering.

---

Several hours later, Tav had been allowed to leave on the most infuriatingly awkward walk of shame in all her days. She was loathe to explain exactly what had taken her so long, though she had the distinct feeling that perhaps she didn’t need to. She had entered a bedroom through a broken balcony dressed in rags, and left through the front door smelling of delightful lotions, her hair still slightly damp, and wearing a well tailored - if plain - leather and silk outfit that accentuated every curve of her body.

At least her companions had spared her the questions she dreaded. Although she did note Astarion mouth the words “Rule Four” at her with a sly wink. Fine, she thought, I will have to record this in that damned book… I doubt they will let it happen again, anyway. Might as well preserve it in my own memory, at least. ----------- ----------- ENDING NOTES ----------- -----------

Ah, one of my favourites~ Finally letting the three play together, even getting some soft Raphael in there at the end with the aftercare. It might not be natural to him, but he can be all too easily pushed by Haarlep into doing exactly what they want of him. In this case, it's ensuring their new favourite toy will be able to play again. I need to write more of these three at some point, naturally. Perhaps some shorts, though they tend to run long as this was all meant to be in one chapter until it became two~ Well, until the next chapter loves do take care, and enjoy your stay in Avernus~

[feralmoonlight]

HEY HI IT’S ME

A Creature. An Absolute Gremlin. Approach with caution.

A more current list of my au projects(a work in progress) and my art without 30k ish reblogs sprinkled between them can be found at @feralssinbin

Welcome to my little hole on this glorious hell site. My ask box is always open for questions, pokes, suggestions/requests, or a fun little AU ask game where you throw me a bone(idea?Scenario?quote?Something?) and I unleash a wave of rambling at you in return as my brain runs wild with ideas :D Rude asks will be laughed at and consumed like the most delectable treats >:3

I am... Honestly super proud to have ended up as part of the DCA Fandom (and now FNaF by extention??? I avoided it like the plague for so long and now here I am lmao). The people here are so warm and welcoming and absolutely full of the kind of crack that makes me grin and I love you all! My ‘day job’ is pretty much doing furry art commissions and helping take care of my grandmother, but my free time and fun time is spent here, simping in the daycare and showering people with the little fragments of my soul that still exist in the form of scribbled art and drabbles of writing <3

As a heads up, I live in the Sin Bin, and while I will try to tag anything overly suggestive/nsfw leaning, I am also a complete space cadet and my judgement on that kind of stuff is horribly skewed on what’s safe and what’s naughty(see day job. my sense of shame is like wet tissue paper lmao)

Art Stuff~  #Feral Scribbles (I DONT KNOW WHY THE LINK KEEPS BREAKING i keep copypasting it from the address bar but it’s being dumb)

My AO3~ and also my writing tag #Feral Writes for various bits and pieces that don’t make it to AO3

Unorganized Tagging and current projects list Under the Cut

BELOW IS SORTA OUTDATED. MOST RECENT AU HEADCOUNT IS HERE.

Various AU tags will appear somewhere once they exist

Pirate AU that needs a name eventually~ New name is too long for a decent tag sooo yea (also name may change) - You and Me and the Devil Makes Three

Forgotten But Not Gone the abandoned daycare AU thing

VampireWerewolf AU Uh... yeah what it sounds like hehehehe

AU Hoard various AU things that just... exist? or the start of AU ideas that get tags later

*

And some more shit I need to organize and merge with above~ BUT these are some(most) of the things I’m working on for writing currently!

Forgotten But Not Gone - 10 year old abandoned daycare with  one very lonely and unhinged isolated animatronic Fazbear Ent didn’t bother to pick up.

You, and Me, and the Devil Makes Three - PIRATE AU where reader is a dock hand that accidentally gets loaded as cargo on a pirate ship and now they’re a stow away. The captain’s aren’t thrilled

First Night Jitters - Boy, isn’t it a great idea to schedule the new hire’s first shift at closing time. When the lights go out. And the repurposed security detail is bored?

Dangerous Haven - Its hurricane season and your dumb ass was out in the storm(supposedly for good reason) gets hurt, and seeks safety by breaking into the pizzaplex when the powers gone out. Thank goodness the animatronics have an emergency override protocol in times like these, right?

Sometimes It’s Worth The Risk - You like robots. No. You REALLY like robots. And you just got an acceptance email you get to start working at the most technologically advanced pizza joint in the country. Jackpot. Time to woo the lanky boys, if only they understood why you were being ‘so weird’. (Surprise, they do)

Bite You Once, Bite You Twice - Vampire/Werewolf AU. SO. Sunny is a vampire, right? Well, he’s also a werewolf, because sure why not, and that side of him manifests as Moon (same entity, very different personality shift), and YOU are the new neighbor that doesn’t want to be here, but taking a job from him to help keep his yard tidy is at least something until you get a real job. What’s that? Lemonade? Sure I’ll step into your parlor mysterious friendly stranger. Wait why am I sleepy…

Once Upon Some BULLSHIT( >:C Language!) - A Choose Your Own Adventure style starting point that’s been backburnered for above projects that will basically be ‘commenters choice’ on what to do next, cause these are always fun to do between things, but this might also get scrapped BECAUSE I keep getting bigger ideas and this is a very side project thing.

Hands On Experience - Self indulgent drivel from me of the newbie finding out that the boys are just very touchy. No real plot, just some hands on time with the guys at various points of your employment. Some sweet, some awkward, some steamy, some uncomfortable. Look. I’ve figured out what this fandom is about with them and… Let me have this XD

The Doordash AU (title pending) - STAY AT HOME RECLUSE ARTIST ORDERS FOOD AND IT’S DELIVERED BY A FRIENDLY SUN ANIMATRONIC. Friendship. Angst. Romance? Bromance? I promise there is plot here, I rambled about it, the crack turned into a serious thing, why does this keep happening.

Strings, and Stripes, and Stars - AYO Red string of fate is playing mind games and you are more than confused about this pull that keeps yanking you around to a place of your nightmares. You have always hated big bulky costumes, mascots, those weird uncanny animatronics you see at themeparks and shitty kids restaurants. They make you uncomfortable on a level that borders into phobia territory. SO WHY do you keep ending up losing your mind and walking through the doors of THE MOST UNCOMFORTABLE example of EVERYTHING you hate? Oh sweet fuck why are they so tall…

Let The Current Flow Under the Horizon(renamed, might get renamed again)- Self indulgent Mermaid AU that has fleeting bits and pieces of ideas and no real plot yet so check back on this one in like, a bit…The only thing I know for sure is I think I am going to make this one uh, naughty cause there’s so few decent nsfw mermaid fics out there. Team Monster Fucker, where you at? Tastefully, of course!

Face Value - Human disguise AU maybe? Maybe?? >w>; Not sure if developed enough to write yet but… There are many ideas that need to be sorted.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Eclipse: Chapter 30

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Adventure Characters: Apollo, Hades And with this, we bid farewell to Hades' pov for this fic. Only two chapters to go now, and both will be Apollo's pov. I had a lot of fun figuring out Hades' narrative voice, as well as what's going on beneath the exterior he projects! This is also the awkward "deal with the Zeus consequences" chapter, which I keep seeming to need in my fics despite them being incredibly difficult to write! I have a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! <<Chapter 29

HADES XXX Zeus Loses His Temper

At some point during the journey between leaving his palace and arriving at Olympus, Apollo had left Elysium and recoalesced his entire essence into a single form, a now familiar feeling on Hades’ periphery after what had proven to be over a month in close company with his nephew at full, undiluted power.  He was not surprised that Apollo had elected to be as powerful as possible in Zeus’ presence, but now that he was in the same room as both his brother and his nephew – and a few other unexpected gods Hades was electing to currently ignore as well – it brought something interesting to Hades’ attention.

He'd known something was different with Apollo’s essence since his time spent as a mortal.  His nephew had felt stronger, considerably stronger than Hades had expected of him, but he was still not as powerful as Hades, so he had put it out of his mind while he had other, more immediate, concerns to focus on.

Standing in the middle of the Olympian throne room, with his nephew at his side and his brother seated on his throne before him – both brothers, in fact, although Hades had no interest in Poseidon’s unexpected presence at that moment – a single observation leaped out at him, unbidden but impossible to ignore nonetheless.

Apollo was more powerful than Zeus.

He did not quite measure up to Hades himself, or Poseidon, both of whom had found their old power levels still within them during the climax of the second Titanomachy and re-embraced the strength they had once been renowned for, but Zeus himself, Apollo appeared to have now surpassed.  In fact, with the comparison right in front of him, Hades suspected that Apollo had not just done as he and Poseidon had managed and rediscovered his old strength, but somehow surpassed his younger days entirely.

Apollo was so obviously more powerful than he’d ever been before, that Hades wondered how he’d missed the extent of it until then.

One thing was also clear: Zeus knew.

It was not fear he was eyeing his son with, but it was resentment and distrust, wrapped up in the mess of paranoia that had been winding itself ever thicker around the king over the past couple of millennia.  Anger roiled within his essence, too, the fury of a storm building and waiting to be unleashed.

The thought occurred to Hades that Apollo’s mortal punishment had somehow backfired on Zeus; there was no way in Olympus that Zeus would ever give Apollo power greater than his own, which meant that Apollo’s current, post-punishment self was not a product of Zeus’ intentions, whatever they had been.  The lazy amusement on Poseidon’s face supported the theory – Poseidon, too, had once been stripped of his immortality, back when Zeus was actually the most powerful of all and had been capable of striking down even those considered his peers.  No doubt he found Zeus’ self-made apparent predicament highly amusing.

Hades found himself more concerned with what Zeus’ intentions had been, but forcibly shoved the thought aside to deal with after the current issue – namely their trip to Tartarus and retrieval of Bob – had been resolved.

“Apollo,” his youngest brother boomed after a moment, clearly deciding to ignore Hades and focus on the son he was no doubt intending on somehow punishing again, for no justifiable reason other than to soothe his own paranoia.  Apollo’s posture, already far straighter and less relaxed than it had been since escaping Tartarus, and arguably even within the Pit, stiffened further.

“Father,” he replied, cautiously.

“Explain.”  The word was curt, short, and full of heavy expectations whilst giving nothing itself.  Typical of his brother, to put the onus on Apollo to do all the work – and, potentially, talk himself into a trap.

Hades had no intention of letting the conversation dance along to Zeus’ tune.  Once, perhaps, his brother had been a magnificent musician – indeed, Apollo had got it from somewhere, and that somewhere had not been Koios’ line – but in recent centuries, Zeus had lost the spark he had once had.

“What is there to explain?” he cut in smoothly, silencing Apollo just as his nephew began to say something about a prophecy.  “An investigation into Tartarus was warranted, and demigods could not be trusted to survive long enough to succeed.  Thus, we elected to go in their place.”

Zeus leaned forwards on his throne, white-knuckled fists clutching the ends of the arms in poorly concealed rage.

“No such investigation was needed,” he ground out, thunder rolling dimly in the sky above.  “And if any was required, you do not have the authority to make that decision.  You certainly” – his voice raised, loud enough to rival the thunder he summoned – “did not have the authority to bring a titan out.  Two titans, in fact.”

So he hadn’t missed Koios’ brief sojourn into the Overworld.  Hades supposed it had been too much to ask that it would have somehow passed beneath his notice, especially as Artemis had clearly been alerted immediately.  He observed the goddess in question out of the corner of his eye, perched on her silver throne silently but a presence nonetheless.

There were more Olympians present than he had expected.  Poseidon’s presence alone was a surprise – while he had the free reign to travel to Olympus as he wished, a matter Hades could admit made him sore, his water-residing brother usually preferred to distance himself from Zeus’ inane whims.  Artemis was perhaps predictable, given her own involvement, but her neighbouring goddess was far more unexpected.

Wise enough to know that she ought to keep her mouth shut while Zeus was in one of his temper tantrums, Athena sat back regally in her throne, observing the proceedings with her sharp silver eyes.  For the most part, she seemed particularly interested in Bob and Apollo, but Hades did not miss his niece’s searching gaze as it brushed over his presence, as well.  Perhaps Zeus was not the only one surprised to see him there.

Hestia, as always, tended to her hearth, human-sized and meek – a far cry from the fierce eldest sister Hades knew she could be, or had been once a millennia ago, when it was their generation against their predecessors – while on the other end of the temperamental scale, Hera was straight-backed on her throne beside Zeus, a black veil doing nothing to hide her eagle eyes.

It seemed that of those of them that had fought the titans twice, only Demeter had abstained from making an appearance – no doubt more interested in spending time with her daughter during the summer months than an informal, half-attended, Olympian council.  Hades did not know how well that fared for Zeus’ temper, or whatever decision would be made regarding Bob’s departure from Tartarus, but he suspected he and Apollo were not the ones outnumbered.

Poseidon delighted in causing trouble for their youngest brother.  He and Hades may have their own brotherly issues, but the more self-important Zeus styled himself, the more they pushed back.  Despite her caution and scolding earlier, Hades would likewise be very surprised if Artemis truly sided against her twin, and Hera and Zeus had argued more than they had ever made up throughout their marriage, while Hestia had always been determinedly neutral against inter-sibling conflicts.

The only true unknown was Athena, wise in council but always Zeus’ favourite daughter, and too smart to jeopardise her position as such unnecessarily.

It was good odds in Apollo’s favour, but that did not mean it would translate into a favourable outcome.  Cornered animals had a rightful reputation for danger, and Hades would not hesitate in using that term to describe his brother right then.

“Koios no longer lives,” he reminded Zeus – if he had seen his arrival, then he must have seen his departure as well.  He would not have taken his eyes off of the titan for as long as he considered him a threat.  “Your own children saw well enough to that.”

Sky blue eyes, flickering with the searing white of furious lightning, glanced over at Artemis before focusing back on Apollo.

“Indeed,” he allowed, “although he should never have been permitted the opportunity to reach it in the first place.”  Zeus really could never let a point go until it was in his favour.  “That does not, however, explain why the second titan is standing before me, in the heart of Olympus, right now, Hades.  Do not think I missed who led Iapetus here.”

“Bob,” the titan interjected, taking a step closer as all eyes fell upon him.  It placed him directly between Hades and Apollo, using them as an honour guard – or perhaps simply as guards, although for whose benefit it was impossible to say.  “I do not go by the name Iapetus anymore.”

Hades was not sure that intentionally drawing Zeus’ attention was a particularly smart move on the titan’s behalf, but what was done was done and Bob stood straight and uncowed as Zeus loomed over him.

“You expect me to believe that you have changed your name?” he demanded, sprites of lightning flickering into existence around his head.  “Or, perhaps, that changing your name changes your nature?  I remember you, Iapetus the Piercer.  I remember the ichor that stained the shaft of your spear.  I remember the bite of that spear, and you expect me to believe that you are not that same titan I once fought against?”  Zeus was almost spitting in his rage.  “You are an immortal, Iapetus, and immortals do not change.”

“Do not change, or will not change?” Bob asked, all too calm for someone in the eye of the violent storm that was a furious Zeus, although Hades could feel the light in his essence, feel the strength in Apollo’s, and saw his point.  Immortals could change, it appeared, for all that change was an unlooked-for and often unwelcomed guest.  “What is stopping you?  Fear?  Are you afraid of what you might become, if you accept change into your existence?”

Lightning flashed, an explosion of thunder in Hades’ ear as the Master Bolt hurtled at the titan.  He felt Apollo’s essence flinch at its proximity, despite not being its target, and fought to keep himself from either going to his nephew’s side or retaliating against his brother at the realisation that Apollo would only fear the bolt if he knew first-hand what it could do to him.

Hades knew that it had struck at least one of Apollo’s children, yes, but he had never known that Zeus had struck the god directly.

This time, the target had not been Apollo – or Hades himself, who had also found himself on the receiving end of his brother’s flashy temper although held nothing but contempt for the bolt, rather than any degree of fear – but Bob.

The titan, too, had endured the business end of the bolt on more than one occasion, during that same Titanomachy Zeus was referring to, but not even the Elder Cyclopes had created a weapon that could obliterate a titan in a single hit.  Bob remained on his feet, seemingly hardly fazed by the attack despite tendrils of smoke curling up from his skin, and met Zeus’ gaze calmly.  “I do not recall you being a coward, when you poisoned me and deceived Kronos into expelling your siblings from his stomach,” he said.

That was pushing Zeus too far, and Hades stepped forwards, blocking the titan from Zeus’ immediate view.  Apollo was almost immediately beside him, the faintest of wavers in his essence that Hades would not have been able to notice if he had not become intimately knowledgeable about his nephew’s essence in Tartarus betraying his nerves.

“Enough,” he said, sending Bob a warning glare before facing his brother once more.  “There is no need to keep exchanging insults like children.”

“Aww,” Poseidon complained, lounging obscenely in his fisherman’s chair.  “You spoil the fun, Hades.”  Unimpressed, Hades levelled him with a flat glare.

“Why are you here?” he asked.  “Should you not be frolicking with dolphins in your overlarge swimming pool?”

“And miss out on this spectacle?” Poseidon laughed.  “Not a chance, brother.  Besides, I have business with… Bob.”

Quick as the lightning he threw, Zeus turned his attention to the throne beside his.  “You do?” he growled, the sound echoing around the throne room lowly.  “Poseidon-”

Poseidon waved a hand carelessly.  “Peace, brother.  It is simply that, if I am not much mistaken, this is the same Bob that my son mentioned saved his life in Tartarus.”

“Not just Perseus,” Athena spoke, drawing attention to herself for the first time, “nor even my daughter, Annabeth.”  Her grey eyes, the smouldering of smoke after a fire, raked over the titan behind Hades curiously.  “In assisting our children, he released the Doors of Death from their chains and thereby made it possible for Olympus to win the war against Gaia.  It is Olympus itself he helped to protect, and I find myself curious as to why.”

“Why does not matter,” Zeus snapped.  “He is a titan-”

“As is Mother,” Hera pointed out, apparently fearless in overriding her husband.  Hades suspected the mourner’s veil she wore had something to do with it; he had not missed the son of Jupiter’s entrance into his domain, complete with Juno’s influence upon him.  “There are many titans we have allowed to roam free, Zeus.”

“And not just peaceful ones,” Poseidon added before Zeus could protest that Rhea had never done them wrong – a point that Hades would have, unfortunately, had to concede if he had.  “Oceanus continues to persist as he pleases despite actively working against us” – me, Hades was certain he truly meant, well aware that Poseidon had been left unaided against the eldest titan – “during Father’s recent attempt to destroy Olympus.”  His eyes, the roiling blue green of wind-whisked waves, seemed to bore through Hades and Apollo to focus on Bob.  “If Olympus allows him his freedom, why does it deny a titan that actively aided it the same boon?”

Because Oceanus was old and powerful enough that Olympus could not be sure of victory, Hades suspected.  The titan had had millennia to consolidate his court within the seas; it was not a flimsy support like the ones Kronos had attempted to build for himself, it was an entire empire.  Poseidon, at the least, had been fortunate that Oceanus had decided to retreat when Kronos fell rather than continue to press the advantage he had been gifted with when Poseidon had been forced to abandon Atlantis to aid their brethren against Typhon.  If Oceanus had sustained the assault, Poseidon’s dominion over the seas might well have been obliterated for good, leaving Olympus down a powerful god and Oceanus with a far, far larger support base.

Bob, however, had none of that.  He had no allies amongst the titans – although admittedly he might kindle some in time, but with the exception of Oceanus, none of those left to roam free had ever showed designs against Olympus, so Hades saw no likely issue there – and no base to use in an attempt to consolidate power.  He was, quite simply, not a credible threat to Olympus.

“I would hear Bob’s reasons for saving my son,” Poseidon continued, “and Olympus, as Athena says.”

Zeus, Hades realised, was completely outnumbered.  With even the sensible Athena cautiously rebutting his reasons for paranoia, the king of the gods was finding his hands rather tied – and he could see from the terseness with which Zeus shifted in his throne that his youngest brother was well aware of the fact.  It was, in some way, a cause for concern – Zeus would not take this laying down, for all that he would be a fool to keep pushing when Poseidon at the least was determined to push back with at least equal pressure, and Hades himself was not going to take the younger god’s tantrums laying down, either.  There would be retribution somewhere, somehow.

He was not the only one to have noticed the ticking bomb they were taunting; Apollo was uncharacteristically quiet, and Artemis was poised to leap into fight or flight at the slightest provocation.  Athena, too, having said her piece, had also faded back into obscurity on her grey throne, allowing Poseidon to take the lead in their arguments – an alliance that barely a decade ago would have been unthinkable, although perhaps it was not a surprise that she would still set Poseidon up to take the brunt of Zeus’ wrath.

Then again, three of the gods currently in the throne room were currently more powerful than Zeus, and Poseidon was one of them.

“The demigods showed me mercy,” Bob began.  “Percy, Nico, and the Hunter with them – Thalia, I was told was her name, although I have not seen her since falling into the Lethe.”

Zeus twitched, either unaware of his own daughter’s involvement in the situation, or unhappy that it had been brought to light.  Out of the three demigods in question, Hades distinctly remembered that she was the only one with the sensible reaction to the amnesiac titan, while the two boys – and Nico, especially – had been rather less cautious.  If Bob had been less amicable, she would likely have been the only one to survive.

“Then, I was shown kindness,” the titan continued.  “Not just from the demigods, but gods that had every right to hate me.  I learned kindness, and mercy.  I will not lie and say my motivation was to help Olympus, but it was to help the demigods who chose to trust in me, even when they feared me.  I had no wish to see any of them die in Tartarus.”

“Those demigods-” Zeus began, only for Poseidon to once again talk over him.

“Those demigods have saved Olympus twice in as many years,” the sea god said, his eyes flickering dangerously, as though daring Zeus to ignore the truth.  “Were it not for my son, Athena’s daughter, and even Hades’ son, Olympus would have fallen twice over.  They are loyal to the gods.”

That was an interesting way of wording it, Hades thought, privately amused at the thought of Nico’s reaction at being called loyal to the gods.  His son’s loyalty was, first and foremost, to those that he formed bonds with.  Hades was well aware that Nico was not loyal to him, for all that they had reached a non-hostile relationship with each other that at times managed to border amicable, although Apollo was potentially a different matter.  Zeus was certainly not on the shortlist.

It was, however, undeniable that every time Olympus had found itself in need, the demigods had answered.  Not even Zeus could deny that, and his youngest brother settled back on his throne.

“Very well,” he allowed, as though he had any real control over Poseidon’s words.  Hades did nothing to puncture the air of authority he was desperately pulling back; while he would not allow Zeus to harm Apollo – who had taken a step back while Bob spoke and was now hovering almost unobtrusively behind them, not openly hiding but doing his best to deflect his father’s temper away from him – or indeed any of Apollo’s loved ones in a more roundabout way of punishing him, it would do them no good to push Zeus further than necessary.

He was volatile enough already.

“Against my better judgement, I will not send you back into the Pit where you stand,” the king of the gods continued, as though Bob had not already withstood a blast from the Master Bolt.  “However, I will not allow you to walk freely.  Athena or Artemis shall observe your movements at all times.”

Neither goddess seemed enamoured with the decision, but nor did they seem surprised.  Hades was not, either; out of those present, they were the ones least distrusted by Zeus.  He and Artemis were the only two that had never taken part in a direct challenge to Zeus’ rule, although Athena had managed to talk her way out of trouble, and the days of Zeus trusting him with anything, especially the supervision of something that he saw as a threat, were long past.  It would not surprise Hades in the slightest if Zeus feared that, should he return Bob to Hades’ domain, out of his sight, they would begin to scheme against him.

His paranoia might already think they’d started.

“I trust the two of you will co-operate with each other and not allow it to get in the way of your other duties,” Zeus continued, and both goddesses bobbed their heads briefly.

“Yes, Father,” they chorused, glancing at each other just long enough to acknowledge the other but nothing else.

If Bob had any thoughts on his chaperones for the foreseeable future, he didn’t voice them, although he nodded at the pair of goddesses in acknowledgement.  The piercing look he got in return from Artemis proved that she had not forgotten their earlier encounter outside the Necromanteion, and would be observing him to ensure he held true to his words.

“You are dismissed,” Zeus told the titan bluntly.  “Leave, before I change my mind.”  He gestured towards the door in a sweeping gesture, and Bob needed no further prompting.

“I will go to find Percy and Annabeth now,” he told Hades as he turned; on his throne, Poseidon leaned forwards, summoned by the name of his son.  “I will endeavour to make myself easy for Nico to find, should he wish.”  With at least one goddess on his tail, they both knew that the titan would not be able to return to the Underworld for the time being, and Hades inclined his head in acknowledgement as the titan strode away, out of the room.

Artemis and Athena disappeared in a shimmer of silver and grey without saying anything else, and Hades caught Apollo glancing at his twin’s throne wistfully before his nephew’s attention snapped back to the dangerous aura in the room.

Poseidon, it appeared, had decided he’d had enough of their brother’s presence – presumably, he had only been interested in Bob’s fate, and now that had been decreed, he did not care to linger longer.  His throne emptied with a wash of seawater, leaving Hades and Apollo to face Zeus and Hera.

They had not been dismissed, Hades noticed, and Zeus did not appear inclined to let them go without throwing a more private and pointed temper tantrum.

“Hera, Hestia, leave us,” he ordered.  “I will speak with Hades and Apollo alone.”  Hera sniffed, offended at the dismissal, but disappeared in a shower of peacock feathers nonetheless.  Hestia’s departure was far more demure; an extra flicker from her hearth and she was gone, no doubt instead at the sister-hearth of Camp Half-Blood.

Apollo moved to stand level with Hades again – next to him, and Hades wondered whether it was to present a united front to Zeus or if there was another reason for their resumed proximity, not that he had issue with it.

“You had no authority to raise a titan from the Pit,” Zeus growled, his anger sparking around him again.  Without an audience, he seemed less interested in controlling his reactions.  “Apollo, ever since you selected a new Pythia, Delphi has given nothing but rushed prophecies that continue to undermine Olympus and I.  If you do not stop allowing that girl to speak of such things, I will have to intervene.”

He said intervene in a way that sounded a lot like destroy the Pythia or even strip you of your domain, a fact that clearly did not go unnoticed by Apollo as the younger god’s eyes flickered Phlegethon orange once more.  Having once cursed the Pythia himself, and recently at that, Hades found distaste at the idea of another young woman ending up in a similar situation.  He still did not like prophecies, no matter how lovingly Apollo talked about them and their endless possibilities, but he could acknowledge that perhaps the cursing of the Pythia for attempting to protect the di Angelos had been an ill-thought action.  It certainly hadn’t stopped Delphi from issuing prophecies as and when it pleased.

“Father, I do not control the timing of prophecies, nor their content,” Apollo reminded him, although Hades could tell the words were falling on obtuse ears.  Zeus had convinced himself otherwise, and the son he feared and distrusted would never be able to persuade him to hear the truth.  “They are spoken when they are meant to be.”

“Enough!” Zeus thundered, and Apollo immediately snapped his mouth shut.  Hades took a minute step sideways, not quite far enough to be touching his nephew, but close enough to remind Apollo that he was not alone against his father’s wrath.  “This does not even consider your other transgression.”

He stood up, a little bit taller than the twenty feet the gods usually took as their stature, likely to guarantee that he towered over even Hades, who had always been the lither yet taller god.

“You interfered,” he proclaimed, thunder rolling around them.  “Taking on a quest in the place of a demigod – do you even care how many of the Ancient Laws you trampled across in the process?  Those Laws exist for a reason, Apollo.  They serve to prevent interference in mortal affairs, and to ensure the balance of power is not shifted too far.”

Lightning crackled.

“Had the demigods gone, as they should, the titans would never have escaped,” Zeus continued.  “By interfering, you changed something that should not have been changed, and now the stability of Olympus is at risk.  Iapetus twice tried to destroy Olympus, and yet you welcomed him into the heart of it with open arms!”  A bolt struck the ground close to Apollo’s throne, and the god in question flinched.

Hades had had enough.

“Brother,” he said firmly.  “Bob is no threat to Olympus, and even if he becomes one in time, he is a single titan against our entire might.  You have no reason to fear him, and acting as though you do makes you appear weak.”

“Weak?” Zeus seethed.  “The darkness you hide in has blinded you, brother.”

The words stung, but Hades refused to let it show and give Zeus the satisfaction when they both knew that he did not reside near-solely in the darkness by choice, but rather but that same brother’s own decree.

“The darkness allows me to see what truly dwells in its depths,” he replied instead, “and of those, Bob is inconsequential.”

“A boon,” a new voice – one Hades had not heard in millennia – rasped lightly.

“A new soldier,” said a second.

“For Olympus,” finished the third.

The Fates emerged from nowhere, their strings clutched tightly in their grasp.

“What is the meaning of this?” Zeus demanded, as the three wizened crones clustered by Hestia’s hearth.

“The rise of the titan was inevitable,” Clotho assured them.  In her hands, a silver string wove itself into existence.  “Yesterday, today, tomorrow.  The when was inconsequential, but the how was not.”

“Raised by gods to save the gods,” Lachesis murmured, almost to herself rather than the three gods held in the thrall of their appearance.  “Raised by demigods to save the demigods.  Not raised by titans to save the titans, now.”

Hades felt rather than saw Zeus leave his dais and come to stand next to him, near-mesmerised by the Fates.  Daughters of Nyx, primordial in a way that the gods could never match, not even his brother ruled over them, for all that he had been known to pretend otherwise.

“What does that mean?” Zeus barked, metaphorical feathers well and truly ruffled by the words.

“Bob will aid Olympus in her time of need,” Atropos proclaimed.  “Because Olympus aided him.”

It was not a prophecy.  Prophecies were slippery, convoluted, and could mean any one of a myriad of possibilities at any given moment, according to Apollo, who was wide-eyed beside him.  Hades almost wondered if the god of prophecy was seeing anything, or if he was simply overwhelmed by the pure, simple, Fact of Fate.

Olympus aided Bob, so Bob would aid Olympus.

It almost felt too simple, given the trials he and Apollo had gone through to retrieve the titan from Tartarus, but for all he hated – still hated – prophecies, Hades could no more defy Fate than anyone else.

Between one moment and the next, the Fates disappeared, their message delivered.  Zeus jerked, as if only just realising that he had stepped down to join Hades and Apollo standing on the floor like mere gods and not the king of the gods, but did not back away.

“It appears the Fates have decreed your ill advised sojourn a boon for the future of Olympus,” he said, sounding like he had tasted something foul.  “That does not mean I approve of your actions,” because of course Zeus could not admit he might have been wrong about something.  It had been smart of the Fates, Hades mused, to wait until they had no further audience to intervene, else Zeus would have become apocalyptic.

As it was, he was clearly furious at being corrected in front of Hades and Apollo – two gods he had not trusted in millennia.  “There will be no repeat of this,” he ordered.  “The Ancient Laws are not to be broken, and I will not suffer any more offences, do you understand me?”

It was Apollo he glared at, as though Apollo was the one most likely to break it again.  Hades supposed he was not wrong; the entire quest had been Apollo’s planning, for all that it had been Hades’ own, free choice to return to the Pit himself.  His son shifted uncomfortably.

“Yes, Father,” he murmured.

“I do not care to meddle with mortal affairs further,” Hades said before Zeus could either pin him with his crackling glare, or gloss over him as though his words did not matter.  He saw no reason why he would, regardless, at least, not unless Nico ended up in a similarly dire situation and intervention was necessary, but he hoped the Fates would spare his son from any further hardship; he had been though more than enough already.

There was no need to antagonise Zeus over it further.

“See that you do not,” Zeus muttered in a way that was clearly supposed to be ominous, then disappeared in a flash of lightning.

Apollo sighed, the sound ever so slightly shaky.

“That went better than I expected,” he said, tone deceptively light.  Hades snorted.

“We were fortunate,” he said, glancing at Poseidon’s empty throne.  Without the presence of his other brother, deliberately antagonising Zeus and dividing his attention, things could have gone very differently.  Hades was still certain that Zeus would not have been able to inflict any real damage upon them, but there were other ways to cause grief.  “Come, let us leave before my brother decides he is not feeling so merciful, after all.”  Not that mercy was truly accurate a term for the situation, but he was well aware that on Olympus, in the heart of the sky that was Zeus’ domain, his brother was still no doubt capable of hearing everything that they said.

Apollo did not even hesitate to follow Hades as he swept his way out of the throne room and down the streets of Olympus until he reached the locked door to the Underworld.  No doubt, he was eager to see his sons again, now that the threat of his father’s retribution had lessened somewhat.

Not completely – Zeus’ paranoia would not be completely overridden by the Fates’ words.  He had fallen too far into its clutches over the millennia, far enough that Hades did not think it was possible for him to climb back out again.  But somewhat, enough to allow a respite as they slipped away from the whites of Olympus and returned to the darkness of the Underworld.

Chapter 31>>

[georgette-mademoiselle]

Georgette and sekido part 6

pestilence

Georgette had returned home back from a battle that merihem assigned her to help another legion of demons that where struggling

Urogi was all giddy and happy to greet her back until he screamed like a High pitch girl in horror that now her face looked very sickly and decaying skin peeling of nearly seeing her flesh

"WHAT HAPPEND!!??" Said urogi in a frantic state.

" well...lets just say the fight wasnt going my way so i had to unleash the big guns.."

Georgettes demon powers where of pestilence and thus bieng able to contact any desiease to inflict her enemies with her sycthe.

Karaku unfortunately walks in and her appearance made him faceplant on the floor nocking him cold

"fucking crist karaku you act like You've never seen a demon in its full power form!"

Aizetsu walked down from all the commotion he wasnt shocked like the other two but rather curious.

" ah so thats what happens when you use your power...ive never seen it change your appearance till now"

And then sekido would come barging down upon hearing urogi and karaku.

" WHATS GOING O- Georgie!?"

*she looks away twirling her hair shyly because she feels ugly at the moment to even look at him*

"h-hello my sweet...*ahem*"

" let me guess it was a necessary moment to use your full abilities correct?"

*she slowly looked up*

"that is correct, and now my appearance must suffer the consequences for atleast a couple more hours..."

*sekido just observed her, she lacked the confidence of even looking at him. Does she think that he finds her grotesque in this state?*

"georgette" he walks foward to her before she could say anything he put his hands onto her exposed flesh caressing them with the same love hes always had for her. He takes a good look at her face her blush unable to be exposed at that moment.

" i-i know its not usually what your used to seeing b-but my face will be back in just a few more hou-" he kissed her to make her shit up, he loved her no matter what.

"s-seki..."

"dont you ever think such foolishness again woman! You think my heart would stop beating at the sight of you!? Tck! Your mind is truly pathetic for coming into that conclusion!"

Despite the harshness in that last sentence it was something she needed to hear in order to snap out of it, she finally looked back at him in her mind she smiled her exposed teeth not letting her do so.

" i suppose im just not used to somone admiring me even in my rotting appearance...thank you"

He bites the side of his lip fighting the urge to show any smile forming feeling prideful that he could always light up her world despite his coldness.

"now let me ask you something"

"hm?" His hands then move to her forehead leaning foward looking like a concerned mother now.

" do you have a high fever? Does your body hurt in some form of way?" He says with a stern concern in his voice.

"wait what!? I mean...i guess in a way b-but like i said itll go away! Theres nothing to wo-"

"you mean to tell me that your sick!? Unacceptable! Lay down this instance! Ill get you a warm blanket then ill mame you some soup dont you dare fight it!"

Georgette blinked having no words what shes witnessing right now.

"but im a demon love theres nothing to worry!"

"and yet you always tell me to relax and take it easy because demons need to take care of themselves to! Well now Georgette its your turn for me to return the gesture now lay down! *Turning on the stove while preparing the hot towel*

"ahh my love what would i do without you" *chuckles*

dividers by elryisia