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seravphs · 2 years ago

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beating hearts promised to bared teeth — part one: “The God Finds A Familiar”

KITSUNE! GOJO x GOD! FEM READER; KAMISAMA HAJIMEMASHITA AU

When a kind stranger offers you his home because your gambling addict of a father can’t pay rent, you’re left in charge of a shrine - with a catch. Once you arrive at your new home, you learn a crucial fact that he conveniently left out. You’re the new god in charge, and his familiar, who now belongs to you, does not like you. What’s a new god to do, especially when she finds herself slowly falling for the fox spirit?

wc — 10k

tags — enemies to lovers, shoujo manga heroine type reader, Japanese mythology/yokai, age gap (1000 year old fox and high school girl), slowburn, cameo from Sukuna, Toji, and Nanami, cameo from original Kamisama Hajimemashita cast

part two — “The God Finds A Husband” (coming soon)

shoujo series masterlist

If your stomach growls any louder, you’ll scare off the squirrels fighting over the end of a baguette loaf by the park bench you’re sitting on.

You’re currently in the middle of what others might describe as very hard times. To be honest, your very hard times have been going on for a while now - they just culminated at this specific moment. Regardless, these days are only temporary. You’ve promised yourself that one day, you’ll be able to smile from the bottom of your heart.

It’s just that it was easier said than done when you weren’t homeless. Your father has never been the most reliable of men. You had to take over the household finances by the time you were eight, so you’ve always been accustomed to his lack of responsibility, but today really solidified his status in your mind as an absolutely useless, no good man. It’s unfathomable cruelty to have left his only daughter with no money, no relatives, and no home.

You don’t want to call it cruel. For all of his faults, you still love your father. And it’s because you love him that you know this wasn’t a cruel act. Cruelty is intentional. It’s malicious. It comes from a desire to hurt. Your father has never wanted to hurt you. It’s just a byproduct of his gambling addiction. You’re collateral damage in his quest for the jackpot that would solve all his problems.

You double over in agony at the renewed complaints from your stomach. At least you’ve gone from scaring mere squirrels to scaring passersby. That’s an upgrade, right?

One woman clutches her purse closer as she walks past you as briskly as possible. You get it, you look bad.

But there’s no use being resentful. Your father has been barely one step above a deadbeat all your life. At the very least, you’re used to fending for yourself. Your stomach growls again, but you’re determined to ignore it. You need a plan of action. One step after another, you’ll make it out of these troublesome times.

Before you can start to plot, a loud cry for help catches your attention. It sounds like someone else is in even more dire straits than you are, which is saying a lot.

The squirrels have long since scattered, run off not by the scary noises coming from your famished stomach, but a pack of dogs. Somehow, a man has climbed several feet into the tree next to the trash can, and now perched precariously in its branches. Below him, curious dogs tilt their heads and give cautious barks.

“Aw, hello there, cuties,” you coo, rubbing behind their ears. They yip at you enthusiastically. One sets to chasing his own tail around the tree. They seem friendly enough, but you suppose one can’t help their phobias. A little regretfully, you chase them off.

“Go on now,” you tell the last one, leading him away. He whines, but does as you say. What a good boy.

“Thank you,” says the stranger stranded in the tree. He slides down the trunk, face slowly regaining color. “I owe you my life.”

“It was nothing!” You smile, but he won’t let you brush off your good deed.

“You’re a good kid,” he nods approvingly. “Gotta reward that. Is there anything you want?”

A home.

Not just the house you shared with your father, but somewhere warm to return to. A person who waits to see you safely inside the threshold.

But you know a stranger can’t give you that, so you shake your head and smile. “Really, it was nothing. You don’t owe me anything.”

As if he had heard your inner monologue, the stranger raises an eyebrow. “A home, hm? I might be able to help with that.”

Before you can react, he leans in and kisses your forehead. Where his lips touched your skin feels faintly warm and tingly, almost like the sensation of your leg going numb, before you recoil from him in shock.

He presses a map into your hand and tells you, “Go to this address. Tell them Yaga sent you, and you’ll be welcomed with open arms.”

With that, he runs off.

What a strange man.

Well, you’ve had a strange life, taking care of your hopeless father and all. Perhaps these things really did happen. It wasn’t so impossible for strangers to appear out of nowhere and reward you for good deeds. Maybe all the fairytales your father had read to you back when he hadn’t been so terrible were true.

Or maybe that was the wishful thinking of an optimistically delusional girl who needed somewhere to stay desperately.

The address is located on the outskirts of town. Pushing deeper into foliage and closer to forest than civilization, you find the location you had been sent to.

It’s a shrine.

A run-down shrine, of all places.

Are you on a comedy show? Should you start checking for cameras?

Against your will, you feel your eyes grow hot. That was a cruel trick to play. He had gotten your hopes up for nothing.

It’s not just your eyes. Your entire body starts to feel warm. The world around you erupts into blue flame. Heat licks at your shins as you scramble towards safety, closer to the center of the circle that has formed around you.

When the flames suddenly leap, as if they’ll consume the entire sky, you scream and drop to your knees, covering your head like it’s a bomb threat. Two childish voices ring in your head, as clear and crisp as bells.

Welcome home, Yaga-sama.

It’s a shrine. There’s only one logical conclusion.

This is a haunting.

There’s only one safe path out of the ring of fire, and it’s towards the building you’ve now concluded is the site of paranormal activity. Between being actively burned alive or facing spirits though, you know which one you’ll choose.

Your frantic fingers fumble over the latch on the shrine’s red doors as the fire inches closer and closer until you can feel its heat on your back. Finally, you throw open the doors and all but launch yourself inside. The heat recedes, but the voices do not.

“Back already, Yaga?” A male voice drawls. “I thought your pilgrimage would’ve taken longer. After leaving me to maintain the shrine by myself for sixty years -“

You shriek as an enormous, clawed hand comes down towards your face. Your eyes squeeze shut, waiting for the end.

“I’m not Yaga,” you wail, hoping it will save you.

“You have a lot of nerve?” The voice finishes, more uncertainly than before. When you deem it safe to open your eyes once more, what stands before is a young man dressed in all white. White hair and blue eyes make for a staring constraint, but his coloring isn’t what’s strange about him.

It’s his clawed hands and the equally white fox tail behind him.

“Megumi, Tsumiki,” he says authoritatively. “This isn’t Yaga.”

A shining ball of fire comes forward, speaking in the little girl’s voice you heard earlier. “That can’t be right! Look, she has the mark of the god on her forehead.”

You touch your forehead, remembering the warm tingly sensation you had felt when that man kissed you. Feeling slightly delirious, you start to laugh, only to grow alarmed when you find you can’t stop. You’re growing out of breath from your near hysterical laughing, tears streaming out of the corners of your eyes.

“Oh, great,” says the fox spirit. “She’s crazy.”

“She’s the one with the mark,” the other ball of fire, Megumi, says. “That means she’s the god whether you like it or not, Gojo.”

Tsumiki darts over to you, but halfway through her journey, she goes from fire to a little child just under 2 feet tall. She’s wearing a mask and plain blue yukata.

“We have to celebrate!” She claps her hands together in excitement. “Our god has finally returned!”

Gojo looks dismissively down on you. Your laughing fit is finally starting to die down, but he doesn’t seem impressed regardless. “What god? I won’t accept a little human girl as my master. She couldn’t handle the strength of a familiar like me.”

His condescension only makes you giggle harder. You can’t help it. Something about the fluffy fox ears protruding out of his head makes it hard to take him seriously.

“What strength?” You laugh in his face. “This shrine is so dilapidated, I doubt you’re anything special.”

Gojo looks away. “If she stays, I’m leaving. I won’t serve this kind of pathetic god.”

He disappears in a cloud of white smoke before Tsumiki can finish saying, “Don’t be like that!”

The will-o-wisp children introduce themselves to you as shrine spirits who look after the building. It takes a while, but by the time they kindly show you to the room where you’ll be staying, you can distinguish Tsumiki from Megumi by the differences in the masks they never take off.

Your room is simple and threadbare. The walls are paneled bamboo and the only furnishing is an old futon. Still, you’re grateful. It’s leagues better than sleeping in the woods, which is what you started this day fearing you would have to resort to. You’ve never been the type to complain, and you won’t start now, no matter how strange your life has gotten.

Fox spirits and will-o-wisp children don’t exist. They’re the stuff of myths. Maybe you’re just seeing things because you’re tired, you muse as you drift off to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning after a nice, long rest. The events of today will feel so far away, and you’ll be able to start over.

Or maybe you’re dead already, and you’re wandering in the Netherworld. Perhaps the reason you can see spirits is because you’re currently residing in their land. Your entire body seizes up as you jolt yourself back to wakefulness.

“Kamisama,” Tsumiki has crept back into your room. “Are you alright?”

You tell her to call you by her name. Calling you god just doesn’t feel right.

Gently, she nestles down by your pillow and puts her cold little hands on your forehead. Rather than shocking to your senses, it feels pleasant. When you were a little girl and got sick, your father used to let you stay home from school. He’d pack a towel with ice cubes and place it on your overheated forehead, staying up with you all night just to chat. It’s a good memory.

“It’ll be alright,” Tsumiki tells you in her gentle voice. “You’ll see.”

For spirits that supposedly take care of the shrine, you have a suspicion that Tsumiki and Megumi are pushing their work onto you when they brief you on your chores the next morning. It turns out godhood is a lot less summoning storms and a lot more doing yard work.

Tsumiki insists that keeping the shrine pure is important for keeping evil spirits away. For some reason, that means cleaning. When you ask about calling lightning or summoning lions, Megumi laughs at you.

“That’s Getou-sama’s job,” he says. “Your specialty is marriage. Yaga was very good at tying peoples’ fates together. You will be, too.”

He has more faith than you do in that regard. When it comes to chores, however, you’re more certain of your abilities. Busy work keeps the absurdity of your situation from sinking in, and you’re good at running the household from years of dealing with your father. You’re grateful for something to do. If you think about the past day too hard, you might break down into shocked laughter and never get back up.

Besides, even if you don’t feel particularly ready to be a god, Tsumiki and Megumi are letting you stay in the shrine. You have to earn your keep. Soon, you settle into the process of cleaning, letting the methodical, rhythmic nature of your movements erase any doubts in your mind. You think of nothing but the cooling sensation of the water when you dip your rag into the bucket and the clean, woody scent of the shrine as you scrub the wood.

“Ooh,” Tsumiki says approvingly when she appears. “It looks better already! Can you do the lawn next?”

Plucking weeds is notably less soothing than cleaning. With no gloves, you’re careful to avoid hurting yourself as you tug on spiky vines and knotted twigs, but it’s no use. Eventually, you lose focus and a sharp sting graces your finger. Blood drips down your hand. You hiss in pain.

A hand with white claws instead of nails grabs your wrist. You yelp in shock as Gojo brings your finger to his mouth and laps at the blood. It stains his lips slightly red. He worries at the cut with his tongue, making your wound ache. You try to pull back, but he holds on.

To your amazement, the cut closes before your eyes. You’re just about to thank him when he ruins the moment.

“You really are useless,” he says. “You can’t even pluck grass?”

You yank your hand out of his grip as hard as you can, sending yourself tumbling back against the grass. You hate how it must make yourself seem even more human in his eyes, a weak, fragile thing.

“Give up,” he says, and it’s almost gentle, the way his claws graze your chin as he holds your face in one hand. “You’re not suited to be a god.”

You turn away, unwilling to let him see any more of your vulnerability. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Suit yourself,” he says with a noise of annoyance. “Brats who run away from home aren’t my problem.”

“I didn’t run away!” You snap, whirling on him. “My dad was the one who ran! I don’t have anywhere else to go!”

But he’s gone.

At least Megumi and Tsumiki are nice to you. Megumi takes the bucket of weeds you deposit at the front door and whisks it somewhere out of your sight, while Tsumiki prepares a nice, hot bath for you. Exhausted, you collapse onto the bamboo floor spread eagle.

God, a voice murmurs in your head.

Not again. You don’t want any more spirits to deal with. When you raise your head, instead of another yokai, there’s an old woman standing in front of the shrine. Her head is bowed and her hands are clasped in prayer.

Please bless my daughter’s marriage so that she will enjoy a long and fruitful life with her partner.

Her voice is coming from some place inside your head. It resonates like a bell, ringing crisp and clear. You stretch out your hands wonderingly. You don’t look any different.

“You see?” Tsumiki says approvingly. “You’re a god.”’

But you don’t feel like one. You feel just like a normal person.

“A god needs a familiar.” You can’t see Megumi’s face behind his mask as he speaks, but you can imagine the solemn little boy he must be. “You need to bind Gojo to you.”

“How do I do that?”

“You have to kiss him.”

You wait for them to tell you they’re joking.

“What? I can’t kiss him! Is there-”

Megumi cuts in. “It’s just the traditional way to seal the contract. Don’t think too much of it.”

The fact that neither of them are bothered makes you feel like the ridiculous one for being off put by this, but you’re sure you’re not. Still, if you’re a god now, you have to put all of your mortal sensibilities aside. It’s like another culture, you tell yourself. Like how Europeans kiss each other on the cheek to say hello. Even if you can’t convince yourself, Megumi and Tsumiki are insistent.

You were so fired up just a second ago, but now your head is filled with doubts. If such a simple matter can sway you, are you really meant to be a god after all? Maybe Gojo is right. Maybe you should just leave.

“Please,” Tsumiki says. She looks distraught. “Don’t abandon us. Please don’t leave.”

Megumi doesn’t say anything, but his silence is enough.

“Okay,” you say, feeling defeated. “I’ll give it a shot.”

You’ve always been good at chores. If taming Gojo is just another part of your new job, it sounds like it's time to get serious.

“Take me to him.”

Megumi and Tsumiki balk.

“Right now?”

“Why not? The sooner I get it over with, the better, right?”

“He’s...indisposed at the moment,” Tsumiki says carefully.

“Indisposed? Is he sick?”

“Not quite,” Megumi says. He’s very expressive for a spirit. You can practically imagine him grimacing.

“Then it’s fine!”

You would soon come to regret your words.

Megumi and Tsumiki lead you out of the shrine. They show you where to find the path that can lead you to the land of spirits and demons. Your entire body rebels at the feeling of being in this other world, but at the same time, you feel at home here. The god and the girl that coexist inside of you are mutually repelled by and attracted to this place.

Even though you know Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t really children, or at least children in the way mortals think of them, you’re still concerned about letting them traipse around this dangerous place. However, they seem more used to this world than you are. That energy is better devoted to fending for yourself.

They lead you under bridges where the running water smells like flowers and women’s voices hiss in the babble of the current. Tree leaves rustle with hands that disappear into darkness. You follow them through dark alleyways lined with red paper blessings, and doorsteps encircled with salt. Eyes follow you, leaving your skin crawling.

You’re so focused on keeping your head down and staying out of danger that you almost don’t notice when they stop. You nearly run Megumi over.

“He’s inside here,” Tsumiki says.

Is it just you, or does she seem nervous?

The lanterns inside this establishment are turned down to a dimness that barely illuminates the corridors. Sweet smelling smoke writhes around your feet from some unknown source as you head deeper and deeper into the maze of hallways, following the pair of shrine spirits. You pass women wearing fox masks, dressed in luxurious kimonos. Their hair towers over their head in elaborate updos, held in place with beautiful pins inlaid with chartreuse and gold.

Megumi stops before a folding screen door. Like all things within this building, it’s beautiful. The silk screen is painted with images of flowers and more gruesome scenes as well, but somehow, it’s still breath-taking. A little like Gojo, in that regard.

You hear the voices of women behind the screen, flattering Gojo. The light of a single candle illuminates the dim room, imprinting his silhouette against it, as well as that of the two women with him. They’re draped over him, hands roaming his body as they purr their compliments. Your face burns with embarrassment.

“What are you doing?” Megumi demands of Gojo. “How can you parade around the red-light district like this? You’re the familiar of a god, not some common demon! If Yaga knew, it’d break his poor heart.”

Behind the screen, Gojo merely brushes him off. “Yaga’s been replaced by some little human worm. Why should I care what he thinks now?”

“What about the shrine? Don’t you care about that, at least?” Tsumiki's voice is thick with reproach.

“Now that you mention it, I don’t think I do,” he says. “Ha! You know what? Maybe I should thank that girl. Now that I’m free, I can do whatever I want.”

“Gojo-“

“I’ll can indulge in every little vice Yaga never allowed me to touch before. Who would want to be a familiar when I can have all of this?”

“Gojo, our god is here.”

“What?”

He leaps up and pushes the screen aside, coming face to face with you. He looks startled to see you, though you don’t see why he should care, since he so desires to lead a life of sin.

You look upon him with disgust. You might want a familiar, but you’re not so desperate you’d stoop as low as this. Gojo cares so little for anyone but himself. If you’re going to be a god, you’re going to do it right. You’ll pick a good familiar, one who will genuinely love the shrine as much as it deserves.

You turn and leave as he, half-clothed, frantically starts pulling on the outer layers of his kimono.

“Wait,” he calls after you. “Tsumiki! Megumi! Why would you bring her here?”

“She wanted to see you,” Megumi retorts.

“This isn’t the place for a human,” he says. “She’s going to get eaten!”

The faster Gojo follows you, the faster you run from him. By the time you’re out of what you’ve come to realize is a brothel, you’re sprinting. Your legs carry you right into someone else as your face slams against a broad, muscled chest.

“Oh,” says a voice above your head. “How pretty.”

A hand caresses your face. This spirit has tattoo marks across his face and body. More interestingly, he has multiple arms.

You’re frozen in place by fear as he brings his mouth closer and closer to your face. He’s close enough to kiss, but this is a spirit, which means he’s more likely to eat you.

“Be good for me now,” he purrs in your ear. “Fear makes flesh all the sweeter.”

Three of his six arms are consumed by fire. He pushes you away from him in favor of batting out the flame.

Gojo pulls you towards him, hiding you in the folds of his billowing kimono. You press your face against his shoulder, swallowing back the tears of fear from nearly being eaten. Somehow, he feels safe, even though he’s been nothing but antagonistic towards you. He feels almost protective as he shields your body with his, securing you under one arm.

“Scram,” he tells the other demon. “She’s mine, Sukuna.”

Sukuna rolls his pairs of eyes. “You weren’t with her when I caught her. She’s fair game.”

Fox fire flickers in Gojo’s hand. His white talons seem to elongate before your eyes.

“If you want to fight over her, then by all means,” he says with a dangerous smile. “But we both know I’d win.”

“Maybe later then,” Sukuna says, lazily as if Gojo isn’t threatening him. “Once I’ve eaten my fill.”

He stalks off into the night in search of more prey.

“This is why I told you to wait,” Gojo says, running his hand over his face. “You’re practically bait in this world. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

You nod, not trusting your voice, but he catches on anyways.

“Don’t cry,” he says, his face twisted in a grimace. “I won’t know what to do if you cry. Look, this is just your life now, okay? You’ll have to get used to it.”

On impulse, you press your face into his shoulder again, still sniffling. You want to be comforted, even though you know he won’t give it to you.

“Ugh,” he says, true to form. “Quit that.”

By the time you’ve calmed down, Gojo has already escorted you back to the shrine.

“Don’t come back,” he tells you.

Of course, you can’t listen to him. On your second night in the land of the dead and monsters, not only do you have to hide from beasts who would devour you the moment they found out what you were, you also have to hide from Gojo. You’re wearing a disguise, courtesy of Tsumiki and Megumi.

In your defense, it’s not like you want to be here. You need a familiar, and it’s clearly not going to be Gojo.

According to Tsumiki, Gojo’s the strongest, but there are other familiars who would be willing to serve you. They’re all in the Netherworld, however, and you have to find them before you can contract them.

You pull the curtain of the hat shielding your face a little closer around you as you peer at the faces surrounding you, trying to gauge who looks friendly. None of them do. You’ve been wandering around for hours, but not a single spirit has stood out to you.

In the end, you don’t find him. He finds you.

“A human god?” A hand grasps your wrist loosely. “That’s rare. Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be here?”

The man in front of you looks normal by any standards - but you know better than to trust your gut in the netherworld. Still, he’s the closest thing to a human you’ve seen in a while. Surrounded by a maelstrom of monsters, he feels like the eye of the storm. There’s a quiet and a calm surrounding him, even as you walk among noderabo with withered, leathery skin and scaly yajo.

It’s not like he’s in his own little pocket of the world, you realize. He is. Everyone is purposefully giving him a wide berth.

“Who are you?”

“I asked first,” he says.

“You know who I am! You just said so - I’m the human god.”

His eyes rake over you. “So you are. But what are you doing here, girl?”

You throw his words back in his face obstinately. “You first.”

“I’m Toji.” That doesn’t tell you anything, but he’s clearly unwilling to divulge more. “Your turn.”

“I’m looking for a familiar.”

“What about your familiar? I heard that Gojo-sama isn’t keen on sharing.”

Somehow, the way he says Gojo-sama sounds derisive, even with the respectful honorific.

“He doesn’t want to be my familiar.”

The rejection stings coming out of your own mouth.

“Sounds like him. Haughty bastard, he couldn’t stand to serve a human girl, could he?”

“Yeah! He’s an asshole,” you say, feeling validated.

When Toji laughs, the scar over his lip tugs one side of his mouth down. You kind of like it. And he must be strong, just looking at him. He’s well muscled and covered in scars. Of course, there’s the little matter of the reverence everyone around you is offering him. Tsumiki and Megumi had told you to just go out and find one. Could it be that easy?

“Are you interested?”

He gives you a look of barely concealed amusement. “You’re funny, girl. I don’t think Gojo would like that very much, though.”

“I don’t care what Gojo thinks.”

“Oh, here he comes now. Don’t go running too far - you’ll worry him,” he says, slow and easy. His confidence is absurd - it reminds you of Gojo, actually. He must be strong. “If you’re really serious about wanting me as a familiar, why don’t you meet me here again in three days?”

“What are you doing?” Gojo snarls at you. His teeth match the rest of his fox physique. With wonder, you realize that his pearly canines are pointed beyond what’s normal. “I told you not to come back!”

“But- He-” You turn around to point Toji out, but he’s gone.

“Who?” Gojo says.

“He was right there!”

“You’re so annoying,” Gojo bites out. “I don’t care what happens to you, but if you die, Megumi and Tsumiki will cry, so stop wandering off on your own. You’re lucky you didn’t get devoured on the spot.”

He’s starting to get really irritating. You shove his hands off.

“You know it’s actually your fault I’m here, right? If you didn’t reject me, I wouldn’t have to scour the Netherworld for a familiar.”

Gojo scoffs. “My fault? Maybe you should take a look at yourself. If you were less weak, I wouldn’t have a problem serving you!”

“That’s- You’re impossible!” You splutter. “I can’t help being weak! I was born this way! Not everyone is so lucky to be born a kitsune, oh-so-great-Gojo-sama.”

“Enough,” he sighs. Taking you by your wrist, he forcibly drags you through the streets back in the direction you came.

“Ow! You’re hurting me!”

“Gojo!” Megumi’s reproving voice breaks the argument up before it can begin again.

He lets go of you almost guiltily, if you thought he could feel guilt.

“I’ll take her home,” Megumi says.

Gojo’s tail lashes behind him angrily, but Megumi doesn’t spare him a second glance as he ushers you away.

“Thank you,” you tell him in relief. “What are you doing here?”

“You were taking a long time,” he says. “Tsumiki and I were getting worried. Did you find anyone?”

You think of Toji. “No,” you say. “No one.”

The next day, while Megumi and Tsumiki dress you for your trip through the Netherworld again, Megumi presses three slips of white paper into your hands.

“We should’ve taught you this sooner,” he says. “One of the powers of a god is to transform objects. Whatever you write on this charm will become true - within the scope of your power. Be safe.”

Armed with your paper slips, you feel like a real god. Tsumiki pushes you out the door with a prayer for good luck, though you’re not sure you can grant prayers to yourself for yourself.

Outside the door, something whines by your feet.

“Gojo?”

Or is that a regular white fox?

It snaps its teeth at you.

Definitely Gojo.

“I don’t need an escort,” you tell him, making shooing motions at him with your hands. “Go away!”

He rolls over and yips at you, his tail wagging.

“I can’t understand you like this!”

“I said,” a cloud of smoke reveals him, mostly humanoid once again, except for his ears and tail. “I don’t want to do this either. It’s for Megumi and Tsumiki.”

Toji doesn’t seem to like him, so you don’t want to risk bringing him with you. Despite your best attempts to shake him, Gojo follows you as you retrace your steps back into the spirit world. You’re just starting to despair when you spot a bigger reason to be upset.

“Hello, delicious,” Sukuna says. “Ready for round two?”

Why does he look even more terrifying? Did he get bigger?

“Leave her alone,” Gojo says, almost bored. “It’s pathetic. You can only bully things weaker than you, huh?”

“I’m not afraid to fight you,” Sukuna tells him.

You’re panicking. They both look serious. You don’t want to be caught between these two forces of nature.

“You should be,” Gojo says, and steps in front of you. Over his shoulder, he tells you, “Run. You’re in my way.”

This is the chance you were waiting for.

Toji’s dressed differently when you find him again. Last night, he was wearing a casual black kimono. Tonight, he’s dressed in a tight fitting black shirt and loose white pants.

“You look nice,” you tell him, feeling anxious. Your mind keeps going back to Gojo. You’re sure he can hold his own, but you’re still worried for him. As you are, however, you’re of no help to him. The only way you’d be able to rescue him if he actually was in danger is by making a contract with a powerful familiar.

“It’s for work,” he says. “Follow me.”

“We can’t do it here?”

“Do you want to kiss me in front of everyone?” He shrugs and reaches for you. “I mean, I’m down if you are, but I figured-”

“No,” you squeak and dart away. “Privacy is good!”

He laughs. “You’re as funny as ever, huh? C’mere.”

Toji leads you off the beaten path and further into the woods. The only thing that keeps you from feeling more nervous is the moon shining overhead, illuminating your path. It feels almost like a friend is with you.

“Here is good,” Toji says, stopping at a clearing.

“It’s so pretty,” you breathe out, dazzled. This deep into the woods, fireflies are lighting your way. Beneath your feet, a springy bed of flowers and moss covers the floor.

“What can I say? I’m a romantic.”

“Yeah, right,” you laugh at him, but you draw closer. You think you could trust him. You think you could be partners with him.

Then Toji grabs you by the shoulders and dangles you off the edge of the clearing, over a steep drop you hadn’t noticed. The sharp cut off had been hidden by flowers, danger painted over with beauty.

“Sorry, kid,” Toji says. “No hard feelings, right?”

“Why?” You whisper. Gojo had been right.

“There’s a bounty on your head,” he says. “Getou has offered to grant the wish of anyone who kills you.”

His eyes turn wistful. “I have a kid. Haven’t seen him in years. You understand, right? It’s not personal.”

The fall is brutal. The wind whips tears into your eyes, if you weren’t already crying from the fear of falling to your death. You have to do something, anything. Above your head, something white flutters.

A dove?

Then another.

It’s one of the paper ofuda Megumi had given you before you left, caught in the updraft of you rushing down to earth. You snatch it out of the air. You can’t reach the pen in your pocket. With increasing desperation, you bite down on your finger hard enough to draw blood and trace the characters for a tree branch onto it. Holding it aloft, you pray.

Between your hands, wood solidifies. You’re clinging to a scrap of a twig sprouting from the rocky cliffside. Megumi’s words echo in your head - only within the scope of your power.

So this is it, huh?

That’s all there is of your godly strength.

“Looks like you’re in trouble,” Gojo says. He has no problem balancing on the sheer cliff. His appearance is impeccable, completely unscathed from his fight with Sukuna. He perches like a bird, as comfortable as if he were standing on solid ground. “Do you need help?”

Thank god. He’s here to save you! You nod, turning teary eyes on him. You were wrong about him. Gojo really is a good guy, deep down.

“If you say, ‘Please save me, Gojo-sama, I was stupid.’ I’ll help you. Throw in some crying and begging, too.”

Your eyes dry up instantly. He’s a total bastard. You clutch onto the branch tighter. There’s no way you’ll give him the satisfaction of groveling for help.

Your resolve weakens when you hear the first snap.

“Time’s ticking,” Gojo calls in a sing-song voice. “What will it be?”

The harder you hold on, the more your flimsy branch breaks.

“Come on,” Gojo says. “It’s not that hard. It’s just seven little words. Isn’t that worth your life?”

“Go fuck yourself,” you tell him, and the branch finally snaps.

Falling for the second time is just as bad as the first time. The icy wind snatches at you like claws, tearing at your clothes.

To your surprise, Gojo leaps after you. He makes free-fall look elegant - surely a far cry from whatever you’re doing.

“Just say it,” he yells, within arm’s reach. He’s so close he could snag you by the shirt and haul you to safety, but you know he won’t. Not without getting what he wants. “Would you rather die than just apologize?”

You have an answer prepared.

His eyes widen in shock when you press your palms to his cheek, pull him closer, and kiss him.

You barely have time to register the taste of him, sake and something sweet, before the reality of falling to your death rushes in again.

“Gojo, save me!”

As if his body is piloted by someone else, Gojo catches you. For him, it’s a short leap back up to the top of the clearing, where Toji has disappeared.

You climb down from his hold once you’re certain you’re safe. You never thought you’d miss the feeling of solid ground beneath your feet this much, but at the moment, you’re willing to kiss the earth.

Gojo seems much worse off. He’s frozen in shock, muttering the same refrain to himself under his breath. “Me? Bound to her? Impossible.”

“Let’s go home,” you tell him. He doesn’t seem to get it until you tug him towards the path, and then he leads the way wordlessly. .

You wake to Megumi and Tsumiki weeping over you.

“I’m alright!”

They freeze, then burst into fresh tears.

“We thought you would never wake up! Your first time using ofuda must have been too much for you,” Megumi gets out through his sobs.

You feel sore all over. You can barely recall the events of the previous night, only that you kissed-

“Finally up?”

Gojo’s tapping his foot as he waits for you to get up. He looks furious. There’s an unmistakeable tick in his jaw that spells trouble for you.

It’s too early to deal with him. You duck back under the covers.

“Oh no you don’t,” he growls out as he seizes your wrist and bodily hauls you out of your warm cocoon of blankets. “You wanted to be a god, you’re going to be a god. It’s time for some training.”

You shiver pathetically in the cold morning air. If you had known helping a stranger would lead to be harassed by a fox spirit, you would’ve never done it in the first place.

“Try harder,” Gojo says at your sixth failed attempt to turn water into wine.

“It smells alcoholic,” Megumi offers loyally.

“I am trying!” You insist.

“Harder,” Gojo snarls.

The seventh attempt doesn’t change. Gojo throws up his arms and stalks out of the shrine, declaring the need to cool his head. Tsumiki frantically trails him, not trusting him to not attempt to run away again.

Megumi tries to assure you that you’re doing well, but honestly, you need to leave too. The shrine feels too stuffy. A change of scenery will do you good. Sitting alone in the woods just behind the shrine, you try to focus. Slowly, stacks of ofuda disappear from your hands as you paste them to trees, willing them to blossom. Wilt. Do anything, anything at all.

You’re out cold when Gojo finds you.

“Divine power takes time,” he says as he prepares dinner. “Use too many talismans at once and you’ll pass out.”

You drink a spoonful of soup morosely. “How do I get stronger?”

“You’ll get stronger if you grant prayers.”

Tsumiki perks up. “One just came in!”

“I already looked at it,” Gojo says dismissively. “Not that one.”

“Everyone’s wishes deserve to be looked at,” you argue.

Gojo scoffs, “Not this one.”

“Don’t be rude! A god can’t pick and choose.”

He tosses the prayer at you.

Morimoto Rika’s request touches your heart. She’s the spirit of a nearby lake - not just any spirit, as Megumi helpfully clarifies, but another owner of a shrine. A human boy visits her waters nightly. By the light of the moonlight, she fell in love with him, but she can’t meet him because they live in two separate worlds.

And to think that you would’ve never known to help her if Gojo had continued keeping this from you.

“This sounds like the perfect job for me,” you argue.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Yokai can’t fall in love with humans.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Aren’t you bound to do as I say? Take me to her.”

Against his will, Gojo summons what’s called a ‘night fog coach’. Only operable at night, as the name suggests, it’s a tall black carriage truly made for a god. You’re just wondering how Gojo expects you to climb aboard when he effortlessly lifts you by the waist.

“You’re the one who wanted to go meet her,” he sneers. “Chop-chop.”

Your supplicant looks like a fish if it were a girl. She has pale green skin and large, black eyes, with overly large teeth for her mouth. Black hair frames a heart shaped face. She’s cute, in her own monstrous way. And she’s desperately in love with a human boy.

Gojo helps you transform her into a human body and make her over into a normal teenage girl. For a prayer granted, it feels like nothing more than dressing your friend up for a date.

You’re even as nosy as you would be in that situation. It’s the first prayer you’ve ever granted. You know you shouldn’t, but you and Gojo watch the burgeoning romance from a distance. Of course, he’s completely disapproving, but you have high hopes for them - until Rika pulls out a ring.

Aren’t they moving a little too fast?

It only gets worse when Rika confesses that she’s been stalking him - sort of. Keeping tabs on him for his safety by following him around town is a little too close to the other, for your liking. Your head drops into your hands.

But Yuta takes it surprisingly well. A little too well, in fact. It only seems to infatuate him even more. You knew there were certain types of men out there who loved crazy, but you had never seen it in real life - until now.

Could this even be counted as a success?

You’re happy for Rika and Yuta, as happy as you can be for their twisted little union, but you’re just waiting for Gojo to bite your head off for bringing a (real) monster and a human together as soon as you get back home. At least they’re happy, you think ruefully. Worse things could happen. Your first union as a marriage god didn’t fail. In fact, of all people, Yuta seemed the most likely in the world to accept Rika as she was, human or not.

To your surprise, returning to the shrine, Gojo begrudgingly says, “You did well.”

Any warm feelings you have for him the next day are replaced when he barges into your room and demands you strip.

“You have guests,” he says. “Messengers from Toji-sama, the god of the wind.”

Your eyes grow wide. You hadn’t known Toji was a god. Come to think of it, did Gojo even know the reason why you had been falling from that cliff? You weren’t sure if he had come in time to see who had pushed you.

“What are you worried about? I’ll be at your side the whole time.”

You’ll tell him later. Right now, you have a serious matter to prepare for.

You tried not to discriminate on the basis of his master, but it’s not that at all. Toji’s familiar, Naoya, is simply annoying on his own terms.

“So you’re the new god of this ramshackle little shrine,” he sniffs. “God, it’s disgusting. How poor are you?”

“You must be the thirteenth familiar Toji’s owned. He goes through you like toys, doesn’t he? Of course you wouldn’t know that he used to live in worse conditions before. Deplorable.” Gojo laughs in his face.

Naoya grits his teeth. “I’m surprised your little human dared to show her face. I thought she’d be terrified after what Toji did to her. They’re such weak little things.”

Gojo looks at the other demon with a calm that worries you. As human as he is, there are moments when you can catch the monster lurking within. He’s like the sea, deceptively calm until you remember the threat of an unseen riptide.

“If you insult my master again,” he says carefully, enunciating every word like he’s stabbing at them with a knife, “I will take your head and deliver it to your master as a present.”

“Don’t tell me you’re happy to be serving a mortal girl,” Naoya laughs. “Not someone like you, Satoru. How the mighty have fallen.”

Gojo looks at him for a long moment, then he ignores him completely and walks to your side. The most painful part of Naoya’s digs at you is knowing he’s right. Gojo doesn’t like this. How could he? He went from being the strongest to being commanded by some powerless girl. Still, Gojo gazes at you with his inscrutable eyes. You can’t read him at all.

Slowly, he sinks to his knees next to you.

With a gentleness you can hardly bear, he lays his head in your lap, as gentle and docile as a puppy. His neck is bared as if for an executioner’s axe, the delicate pulse of his heart open to you. He closes his eyes. His breath is shallow. He stays there, and says no more.

“Oh, Satoru,” Naoya says in delight. “You really have become a tamed thing.”

With an uncertainty you’re trying to hide, you lift your hands to Gojo’s head. His hair is sinfully soft. You’re almost scared he’ll try to take your hands off for it, but when you start to gently pet his hair, he almost purrs. His eyes close, half-lidded in pleasure.

“I serve who I want to serve,” Gojo says. His tail lashes behind him. “Who are you to tell me my master is unworthy?”

Naoya shrugs, clearly disbelieving. “Sure, Satoru. Keep telling yourself that. I’m just here to deliver a gift.”

He tosses you a package wrapped carefully in beautiful, ornate wrapping paper. You’re sure it’s not Toji’s doing. He’s not the type.

As soon as he leaves, Gojo pushes himself away from you. It leaves you a little sorrowful, the speed with which he tries to get away. He only did it for your sake, you know. He wanted to protect your honor in front of Naoya because you’re his master. But it must have disgusted him, to get on his knees for a human, if he recoiled so fast.

“What did he mean, what Toji did to you?” Gojo asks over dinner.

You know instantly that you’ll only draw his ire if you try to play dumb.

“Toji pushed me off that cliff the day you found me.”

Gojo’s eyes darken. The next time Naoya returns, he promises you, he’d set his tail on fire. No one besmirches his master’s honor like that.

It’s about honor, of course. You’d be a fool to think otherwise.

Alone in your chambers, you unwrap the package Naoya gave you. It’s an incense burner, beautiful and silver. As apology presents go, it’s a decent one. You set it aside for use at a later time.

Naoya’s visit only makes Gojo’s training worse, but these days, you’ve grown used to him and his harsh words. The more that he yells at you for being weak, the more you can brush it off as Gojo just being Gojo. That only irritates him more, of course.

But nothing pisses him off as much as you claiming that you’re returning to school. Gojo thinks that you have no need for school as a god. There’s nothing the humans can teach you that he can’t.

In your eyes, Gojo is a kitsune. That means he’ll never understand a teenage girl’s heart. School isn’t about learning, it’s about the experience! You’ll never be in high school again - there are so many things you still haven’t experienced, like school trips. You only have one youth - you have to seize it in the moment!

Gojo isn’t convinced.

Like an overbearing parent, he nags you all day and night until finally, you strike a deal. He’ll let you go to school, but only as long as you cover up the god-mark on your head. Gojo is never one to make things easy for you. The hat he bestows you with is an ugly grandma print with faux fox ears. You’ll be the laughingstock of the school!

“It’s dangerous,” he says. “Who knows what wild beasts will be lurking about?”

“You’re the wild beast,” you say. “I can’t wear that!”

“I guess you can’t go to school then,” he sighs. “What a pity.”

It’s all for show, of course. You know what he’s really like. There’s no use in arguing - either you agree to his compromise or you stay here, stuck in the temple for the rest of your life. You’ll miss out on all the joys of youth, never growing old in your cloistered shrine. The thought is unbearable.

You snatch the hat from him in indignation. Putting it on before you leave the next day makes you cringe, but as long as you avoid mirrors, you can almost forget that it’s there - if not for your classmates staring at you. You can feel their judging eyes everywhere you go, and the whispers.

You can’t even say you don’t care - you do care. You only have one high school life, and Gojo is ruining it. During lunch, you escape into the bathroom to mope and avoid all of your classmates.

“Are you getting bullied?” Gojo’s voice is too bright and cheery for your dark mood right now. You can’t promise to remain calm if he stays here.

“This is the girl’s bathroom, Gojo.”

“Don’t be like that. I’m just worried about my master,” he says. “Well? How is it? Do you want to go home now?”

He’s lying. You know he’s not worried about you at all, but you should be used to it. You don’t know why it stings as much as it does.

You’re hurt even though you know this is just how Gojo is. Of course he’d be happy to see you miserable - he hadn’t even wanted you for a god in the first place. He’s bound to you by obligation, and nothing more. You had known from the start that he didn’t care about you, so why does it hurt that he won’t comfort you? It’s just like those nights in the demon world that seem so long ago now. He hasn’t changed at all.

Gojo isn’t as shocked by your outburst as he is by the tears slowly welling up in your eyes. He stands stunned as you rush out of him and back into the hallway.

Tsumiki appears next to him out of thin air, completely unimpressed.

“You did a terrible job on that one, Gojo.”

As if in a daze, he lifts his hand, where the crystal of one teardrop shines. He’d tried to reach for you at the last moment, but you were already gone. “I made her cry...”

Megumi appears next to Tsumiki, his face red. “What’s taking so long? Hurry up and leave! We’re in the girl’s bathroom!”

“Gojo was bullying our master,” Tsumiki announces.

“I wasn’t bullying her!”

“He made her cry.”

Gojo winces. “Okay, yeah. I did do that.”

Megumi kicks him in the leg, which amounts to almost nothing. “Take responsibility, then!”

When you return home, Gojo is waiting by the shrine door with an almost offensively polite smile on his face. “Let me take your coat, master.”

Him being kind gives you the creeps. You can’t help but feel like he’s planning something, especially when he shows you the lavish dinner he prepared for you with all of your favorites.

“What’s with the look?” He says, annoyed at your accusing eyes peering at him over your bowl. “I do something nice for you and this is how you treat me?”

“This is really just for me? No ulterior motives?”

“None,” he promises.

The smile that breaks over your face is like the sun through rain clouds - sudden, dramatic, and almost painfully bright after a period of gray skies.

“Thanks, Gojo!”

The look in his eyes is unreadable as he reaches to spoon more food onto your plate.

You don’t have anyone else in this world. Besides the shrine spirits, Gojo might be the only person in the world who will take care of you. For some reason, the thought doesn’t sting as much as it did this morning.

The second day of school starts with pouring rain, as if it’s a direct reaction to your foul mood earlier. Gojo pulls you back when you try to leave.

“It’s a bad omen,” he says. “Stay home with me today. I’ll worry about you if you go.”

Normally, such sweet words might bring a blush to your face, but you can read between the lines.

Stay home with me today so I can keep you out of trouble, you brat.

I’ll worry about you if you go because you’re weaker than a worm.

“Stop trying to keep me from going to school! I thought we got over this yesterday,” you huff. “I’m going to be late for the bus!”

You leave Gojo with a handful of air as you dart under his outstretched arm and out the door.

In school, all your classmates are listless.

You’ve never been so unhappy to not be the subject of attention. What is wrong with everyone? Even the teacher doesn’t reprimand anyone for sleeping in class, half-asleep herself. You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to be caught in this spell of drowsiness, which insinuates paranormal origins.

As you’re sweeping the classroom after class, one of your classmates lets out a disgruntled noise.

“It’s a snake,” she says, not at all with the intonation of someone who’s just discovered a snake. Ami’s the type to go apoplectic at the sight of a fly, much less an actual snake, so you don’t pay much mind until you hear Kurama go, “Huh, she wasn’t kidding.”

There’s a little yellow snake in the classroom. In their stupor, none of your classmates seem to care all that much about it. They just continue going about their chores. You feel bad for it. It’s such a small, fragile little creature. In their state, they might accidentally end up crushing it.

With gentle murmurs of encouragement, you coax it into your hand. It’s surprisingly docile and twines itself readily around your wrist before you set it outside the window to be set free.

Gojo doesn’t praise you for your act of heroism on the behalf of his fellow yokai, as you remind him. You saved his compatriots! Where’s the gratitude?

He calls you a stupid little girl. “I don’t care about them, I care about you!”

Your face warms with embarrassment against your will even though you know he doesn’t mean it like that. Time and time again, Gojo has stressed that he will never see yokai and humans as even remotely on the same playing field, much less capable of being romantic partners.

“You’re my master,” he says. There’s your call back to reality. “Look at this mark on your wrist.”

It appears like a normal bruise to you, though you’re not sure how it could’ve happened. Your new snake friend was very gentle when he was coiled around your wrist. He must have been someone’s escaped pet. You hope he found his way back home.

Gojo’s mad. He’s enunciating every word.

“This is exactly why I have to keep such a close eye on you. That’s no ordinary bruise. That is an engagement mark. Care to explain to me how I left you alone for one second and you got yourself engaged to a divine beast?”

Your face pales. “Excuse me?”

“That snake is going to come and claim you as his bride.”

“As a bride?” Your head spins and you have to sit down. You’re too young to get married. You look up at Gojo, teary-eyed. You don’t want this.

“Stop making that face,” he snaps, pushing a hand over your face to hide it. “As if I would let that happen. The master of the Yaga shrine, my master, could never be wed to a mere snake.”

If Gojo says he won’t let it happen, you can put your faith in him. You breathe a little easier. As mean as he can be, Megumi and Tsumiki weren’t lying when they called him the best familiar. He’s the strongest and most capable person or rather, yokai, that you know. There’s not a single task you set for him that he hasn’t been able to complete.

It’s still raining when you go outside to practice your talisman making.

You find the weather quite pleasant, even though it’s a little damp. The chill in the air cuts through the muggy feeling of summer, and the raindrops cool your cheeks. When you turn your face up to the sky, you can taste ozone in the little drops that pelt your face.

“You’re very beautiful, kamisama,” says a voice.

There's a man waiting just outside the red gates. A supplicant? In this weather? You better get him inside in a hurry. You dash over to him.

“What are you doing? Come inside, you’ll get wet!”

Just as you reach him, he lifts his face. He looks like a statue, with high cheekbones, and solemn eyes. His hair is the same pale yellow as the snake you saw earlier that day-

“Gojo!”

But it’s too late.

The snake has a hold on your wrist, right above the engagement mark. He takes you away.

One moment, you’re standing in your own backyard, the next, you’re surrounded by almost-familiar bamboo walls. It looks like your shrine but for little distinguishing touches. That makes you uncomfortable.

“This is Haibara shrine,” the snake says. “I’m Nanami, the familiar of Haibara-sama. I’ve taken you away to marry you.”

There’s a curtain over the center of the room. Haibara presumably rests behind it, but something strikes you as off about the whole scenario. That’s not what’s foremost on your mind, however.

“I don’t want to marry you! You kidnapped me!”

He tilts his head at you. “I couldn’t have kidnapped you. We’re engaged, you see?” He traces the mark on your wrist with one slim finger. “We’re going to be very happy together.”

“You’re being creepy,” you push him away.

At your rejection, something dark crosses over his features - not danger, but pain. He has some nerve feeling upset when you’re the one who should be upset here!

“That’s alright,” he says, trying to stroke your hair. You won’t let him touch you. “I know it can take some getting used to. Here, let me show you to your room.”

Nanami has clearly put a lot of thought into decorating for you. It’s beautifully furnished, with rich silk sheets and the fragrant smell of plum blossoms permeating the air. Here, there’s not a single thing you could want but-

Gojo.

You miss Gojo and you miss your shrine.

When Nanami leaves you in your room, it feels like a tomb in the silence. You bury your face in your expensive, hateful sheets and try to resist the urge to sob. You want Gojo to come get you. You want to go home.

Hours pass, but Gojo doesn’t come.

Nothing but the sound of your breathing changes, passing from frantic to deeper, slower, steadier. As your head clears, you notice the window. It’s a beautifully ornate design, a red knot of luck. The center is just big enough for a girl to squeeze through, if you try hard.

Resolve grips you.

You’re not going to wait for Gojo to rescue you. You’re going to get out of here yourself, find him, and scold him for not coming to get you earlier. Aren’t you his most beloved master, as he so professes? You’re going to make him kneel for at least three hours practicing his apologies!

Filled with renewed conviction, you hoist yourself onto the window sill and begin the tedious task of shimmying yourself out. Just when you’re nearly there, the sharp edge of the metal scrapes your shin, leaving a long, thin cut.

The smell of salt replaces the plums immediately.

“God?” Comes Nanami’s voice. “I smell blood. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” You panic. If he discovers your escape attempt now, he might try to put you in a more secure room, and then you’ll really never see Gojo again.

The adjacent wall caves in.

Gojo stands in the rubble, seething, each hand wreathed in blue flame. He doesn’t even notice you, his attention wholly focused on Nanami. “You drew her blood? Are you prepared to face the consequences of hurting my master, snake?”

You grab his arm just before he attacks. “He didn’t! I hurt myself on the window- oof!”

Gojo’s so much bigger than you are. When he folds you into his arms, his entire body surrounds you. His chin tucks itself over your head, his large arms wrap around your body. You’ve never felt more secure than you are here, now. “I thought you’d be crying.”

His voice is hoarse.

You’ve never heard that before.

“You came,” you whimper, burying your face into his shoulder.

Nanami’s face is crestfallen. “Are you going to leave me?”

You grab Gojo’s arm and duck into the other room, where Haibara’s curtain is.

“Don’t!” Nanami cries.

When you pull it back, there’s nothing but an old, dusty kimono.

You were right.

This place is godless.

“You’re no familiar,” Gojo snarls, turning on Nanami. “Don’t even think to call yourself that. The difference between you and me is as clear as day, you vile beast. You’ll pay for your insolence with the loss of your shrine.”

Nanami’s misery is written all over his face. You’ve realized what’s wrong with this shrine. It’s too quiet, as if no one has prayed here for generations. Haibara has been dead for a long, long time.

Nanami must have been lonely.

“Don’t,” you tell Gojo.

He stares at you, incredulous. “Are you out of your mind?”

You tug yourself out of Gojo’s arms. Nanami’s crouched on the ground, trying to shield Haibara’s old kimono from Gojo’s foxfire. You kneel to his level.

“I’m sorry you’ve been lonely for all this time, Nanami. I can’t stay with you, but if you come to my shrine, we can play again.”

Nanami weeps and reaches for your hand. The mark of the snake dissolves.

Gojo doesn’t talk to you on the way back to the shrine.

“Don’t be mad,” you say, tugging on the sleeves of his kimono. He gives you a deadpan stare. “Come on! I only did it because-”

You can’t finish your sentence.

Of course, that piques Gojo’s interest. He can never resist bullying you.

“Because? Go on,” he goads you.

You say it so quietly he can’t hear you, even with his fox ears. He spins around, grabs you by the waist, and hoists you up so you’re face to face. You yelp and scramble to grab onto his shoulders for balance.

“Louder,” he demands. “I can’t hear you.”

“I was thinking about what would happen if I died and you were all alone again. I couldn’t leave him alone because I was thinking of you,” you tell him. Thinking of Gojo watching after an empty shrine all alone like Mizuki makes your heart ache for reasons you can’t explain.

He stiffens. “What a strange thing to worry about. I wouldn’t care.”

“Ugh,” you smack him in the shoulder. You shouldn't have tried to be kind to him.

He doesn’t put you down, shifting you into an easier hold. “You’re hurt,” he admonishes when you try to squirm.

Just before you enter the shrine gates, he has a confession of his own to make. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You got hurt because I wasn’t protecting you.”

You rub his ears, an indulgence you’re not sure he would’ve allowed if he wasn’t in such a mood. “It’s not your fault!”

“I’ve never had a human master,” he says. “I have to be careful not to break you. You’re so easily hurt.”

“You don’t have to say it like that,” you say, and then the shrine spirits are there to welcome you home.

You hadn’t realized you thought of the shrine as home until today.

Even though Nanami’s mood isn’t affecting the weather anymore, it’s still raining. Gojo tells you not to mind the weather, even though you’re certain that it’s not from natural causes, which means it is your job. Ever since you came back from Haibara’s shrine, Gojo has been extra protective of you.

You hadn’t thought Gojo had needed to be protected too, not until the thunder god came.

The god of storms and lightning is called Getou Suguru. He carries a mallet in one hand that can transform whoever it touches into their younger forms, and he used to be Gojo’s best and only friend. He’s also the one who called a bounty on your head.

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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acmoorereadsandwrites · 13 days ago

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Books to Try if You Loved the Grishaverse

If you liked the magical heists but you wanted more werewolves, vampires, nine-tailed foxes, and fae, try:

Zodiac Rising by Katie Zhao, a YA heist inspired by Chinese folklore.

The fountainheads of the zodiac families have been taken and Evangeline’s older brother has been found dead, with all signs leading to the fae being responsible for both. Evangeline gathers a team of three other students to help her get the statues back, but things are never that simple when you’re on a heist with your ex or enter the fae world.

If you wanted to spend more time inside The Fold and liked the complicated romances, try:

The Gods Below by Andrea Stewart, the first in an epic fantasy trilogy

Two sisters forced on opposite sides of a war when Hakara escapes a godly force that either kills or transforms anyone trapped in it and the younger sister, Rasha, is changed into the god’s image. One sister will never give up hope of reuniting and the other learns the world is a lot more cruel than she originally believed.

If you wanted more Queer stories about destroying your monstrous ex, try:

The Sins on Their Bones by Laura R. Samotin, a standalone MM fantasy inspired by Ashkenazi Jewish folklore

Dimitri was the Tzar, once, before his estranged husband took his place and forced him into hiding with what’s left of his court. With his new lover, Dimitri will destroy Alexey if it’s the last thing he’ll do. But Alexey is not ready ready to left Dimitri go and will do whatever he can to get him back.

You want the heist and the found family and addictive romance, but you wanted a contemporary with no magical elements, try:

Women of Good Fortune by Sophie Wan, a contemporary set in Shanghai

Best friends Lulu, Jane, and Rina plan a heist to steal the money gifted to Lulu and her fiancee on Lulu’s wedding day to fund their dreams. But as they plan, obstacles pop up and some parts of their lives are maybe not as bad as they originally thought.

If you wanted more time in The Fold, destroying your monstrous ex, and you loved the Eastern European-inspired setting but you wanted more witches and dragons, try:

Foul Days Genoveva Dimova, the first in a Bulgarian fantasy duology inspired by the Iron Curtain

Kosara is a witch who willingly gave up her shadow, and her magic, to escape her home and her ex, the zmey. But she’s dying without her shadow. The only way to save herself is to go back and face her past.

If you loved the complicated relationship, you really love the enemies-to-lovers witch x witch hunter romance found in Nina and Matthias’ story, but you wanted a fantasy romance, try:

Heartless Hunter by Kristen Ciccarelli, the first in a YA/New Adult Romantasy duology

Rune is a witch in hiding who has been doing everything she can to save her fellow witches from the witch hunters. Gideon is the brother of Rune’s childhood best friend and a witch hunter out to kill every witch and was traumatized by one of the former witch queens. When the two agree to pretend to court, this cat-and-mouse game will reignite old attractions and heavy prices will be paid

If you loved what Netflix’s Shadow and Bone did with casting Alina and Mal as biracial but wanted more conversations around the complexities of being biracial during colonization and war, try:

Sun of Blood and Ruin by Mariely Lares, a YA historical fantasy first in a planned series inspired by Zorro and Mesoamerican mythology

Leonora has taken the manacle of Pantera, fighting the colonizers every chance she gets to free her people from their oppression while also reconciling with her own identity as a biracial woman in a world where she has to be one or the other.

If you loved the elemental magic and found family but you also love fairy tale retellings, try

The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale, the first of a four book YA fantasy series

Princess Anidori is engaged to marry a man she has never met, Prince Geric. Her maid forcibly takes her place and sends Ani to become the new goose girl of the king. What the maid wasn’t aware of was that Ani has growing magical powers and that her kindness would win her allies to help get her throne back.

If you loved the angst of Kaz and Inej’s love story but want more tragedy, more poetic language, and less fantasy, try:

A Song to Drown Rivers by Ann Liang, a standalone romantic historical retelling the legend of one of the Four Beauties of Ancient China

Xishi is one of the most beautiful women Fanli, an advisor to the emperor, has ever seen, prompting him to ask her to distract the king so a coup can come and overthrow him. Xishi agrees but wanted neither expected was to fall for each other as they prepare to be separated.

#if you liked this try this #grishaverse #shadow and bone #netflix's shadow and bone #ya fantasy #romantasy

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doublekanble · 9 months ago

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Orpheus and Eurydice

Alastor/reader (gnc)

romantic-platonic

word count: 3.3k

i want to go to bed. (deleted this without copying it by accident, its past midnight, if theres any grammar mistakes, no there is not) at some point wedding is mentioned, but this can be platonic, i am just a very touch-staverd thing.

“Al?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you know the stories about Eurydice and Orpheus?”

(some say that he journeyed on his own to find Apollo, the Olympian god, reigning over sunlight and all things beautiful and pleasant. others would say that after Orpheus have his fill of travelling with the Argonauts and finally ending their search for the golden fleece in joy, he’d returns home. it was both, as far as you concerned.

but in every version of the story, Orpheus, who was depicted as a gifted musician, personally tutored by beautiful and enchanted Apollo himself, deeply fell in love with Eurydice, an Auloniad nymph, and she would love him all the same.)

He looked down and away from his book, tilting his head to meet you with a glance, ears flickering while you’re stretching across his lap with that dammed electric box still in your hand. You continue.

“It’s a Greek mythology about a man losing his wife and him looking for her in the underworld. I couldn’t find the original, but most of them still have the same meaning for me.” You turn on your stomach and lift yourself up on your elbows, looking at him with a delighted grin. “It’s a really good story, I think! Do you want to hear one? I can read them out to you, just pick one.”

“’Pick’ one? Pray tell, how many is there for me to pick?”

“You tell me~”

You exudes nothing but warmth and content as you grin, Alastor held himself back from squeezing your face.

(one story described how, on their wedding day, to the happy couple on their happiest day, a present in the form of an omen was granted by fate.

all the candles and lamps of the temple gifted them with black and oily smoke, coiling in the lungs of guests and stick to their skin.)

“I see, now what a dilemma… Which one of these unknown stories should I pick?” Alastor hums coyly, his book left on the side table unmarked. Oh well, it’s close to your bed time anyway, when you’re off in your dream land, he can resume. “More importantly, how did you learn of all this, dear? Doesn’t seem quite like the sort of thing you’d naturally pick up on…”

“You’re calling me stupid, again.” Dropping your expression in an instant, your delightful demeanor only drives him to take you less seriously.

“Am I now?! Why, how utterly despicable of me! My most sincere apologies~.”

"You-"

You try to swat at him like a disgruntled old cat, only for Alastor to smile as he catches your wrist with no trouble. Immediately, you gave up and turn back to your thing as he pleasingly pecks your imprisoned hand, knowing you can’t do anything about it.

(some say that she was simply bitten by a sly snake. some said she was chased by a satyr into the forest first. in all of them, Orpheus find his wife, whom he haven't even the time to love fully, lying amongst the green. with the poison already spread through her veins and choke her heart, he held her cold body in his arms as he wept.)

“Anyway-” Alastor pats your head, ears perk up while refusing to let go of you, not that you bothered to take your hand back, already satisfied with lazily draping yourself across his sofa and in his lap. He silently felt your pulse as you snidely remarked, “I learn about it online, idiot. Something an old coot like you wouldn’t know how to navigah-owowow I’m sohry yor noh ouh!-“

This, he somewhat find annoying. You’ve been actively learning more words to try and keep up with his “flowery compliments” and “verbose vocabulary” (he would’ve taken sweet and articulated, but c'est lavie). It would’ve been sweet, if not for the fact you only and exclusively learn insults. Your pleas would’ve fallen onto deaf ears, but there’s still a story you need to tell, so he let go of your cheek and lean back.

“I will have to say, if this story is as popular as you boasted, there would surely be a book somewhere about it.” You open your mouth, then just as quickly, you close it and stare up at Alastor who plucked your device off your hand and all but threw it onto the side table. You looked like you’re considering the consequences of trying to fight him head-on while he gives you a cheeky grin filled with sharp yellow teeth. “You were saying~?”

(some described the nearby nymphs and deities grieved alongside Orpheus. moved by the love that he lost, they tell him to look for a way to the underworld, to meet the God of Death and all things misery and to beg for his wife’s life. some said he find his own way down with a lyre in hand and play a song by the river of forgetfulness, with water almost as oily and black as the smoke from his happiest day, he would find himself singing all the way to the palace of Hades.)

Glaring at empty air and refusing to meet his eyes, your expression wavered as you seethe through you teeth, determined not to be distracted and tormented by him. He chuckles as you clears your throat. It’s good that you’re getting better at picking battles when it comes to him, Alastor can’t risked you realizing the actual hold you have over him, yet.

He watches as you stumbled through your words at first, chasing thoughts too fast for you to catch as they come. Your stories overlapping with one another, but eventually, you’d find your pace, and the images you’ve been trying to paint with clumsy colors and bristle brushes come to life as he plays with your hair. Your free hand motioned along all while.

Orpheus comes back home from an expedition, Orpheus married Eurydice, in haste and in love. One day later, depending on the story, he would either give his beloved Eurydice a funeral first before he finds the river, or he would leave straight for the underworld.

One way or another, Orpheus would find himself in front of Hades and his wife Persephone with a near endless line of phantoms and one giant three-head dog following him. In front of Hades, he plays a melody with all of his misery and grief. His fingers nimble and skilled despite the long travel, his voice lamenting and steady, he all but begged senses into the Gods and for him to be able to live his life together with Eurydice, for just one life. The Gods, then, moved by Orpheus love, allowed him to take Eurydice back, but under one condition.

“Eurydice will not go in front, not even for a single second. And Orpheus will pass through the gates without looking back, not even one glance. Until they returns to the land of the living, together.”

You said it with such longing in your eyes, the pain vivid in his mind. Nevertheless, you continued.

“Some people said the Gods are nefarious and thought of Orpheus as a foolish mortal, coming to their door and demanding his wife back without the bravery to follow her into the dark, they gave him a shadow and tricked him into looking back and let him rotted in his despair.” You look into his eyes and he can see himself in yours, “I don’t like those one that much, but it doesn’t change the meaning of the story.” You looked away before he can decipher his own expression, he wondered what he looked like to you at times.

“Then what about the others?”

“Arguably, they’re much more heartbreaking.”

Orpheus would walk on, away from the hallway filled with the coldness of the dark and the warm of the fire. On and away into the path leading back to the earth, all on his own at first. Then somewhere along the way, his lone footstep was joined by another. Soft pitter-patter right behind him.

Sometimes, it would falter, stopping for a bit, as if it have something to say. Sometimes, it’s chased his heels, a breeze by the nape of his neck, as if wanting to touch. But she never talks, and he would never touch her.

“There’s also version where he hears her calling for him too, but Orpheus stayed strong.”

You pulled a piece of paper on the coffee table, but unable to do anything else, you tear it into small pieces with the end of your nails as he laughs and nuzzles your still-imprisoned hand.

Loving Orpheus walked through the dark tunnel and sat on the boat as Charon paddled them back to the opening, holding strong. Until they’re at the gate, Orpheus at the front, Eurydice walking behind. He would be right there before the end of his journey, and then,

“-one way or another, he looked back.”

You stop to contemplate, then with a heavy heart, you sigh. “Some said he doubted himself at the last minute, some said he never trusted it in the first place. I don’t mind any of them, but there’s also one where Eurydice stumbled and he couldn’t help himself from turning around and catch her in his arm. That and the one where he forgot she also needs to walk out the gate, not just him.”

He huffs. “What a fool he is. I sure hope you’re not telling me all this just to call me a twit, darling.”

At that, you sprang up, “Hey! You say that because you’re cynical! The point isn’t that Orpheus is an idiot!” Alastor briefly mourned your warmth as you wildly gestured and sputtered. “Orpheus looked back and in every one of them, he saw her for a single split of a second before she disappeared!” you all but bemoaned, as if crying to Zeus himself for justice. “He'd try to go back to the underworld, but no mortal is allowed in even once, let alone trying to come back again!”

Deflating next to him, you flopped down and loses all your fight and bites, ending it with a solemn, “In all the stories, he got torn to pieces by women. That’s how his story end.”

You sink into the cushions and turned to Alastor as he clapped and cheer for you, “That was a fantastic recounting! You truly have a way of commanding attention from the audience! I should really get you on one of my broadcast some day!”

Alastor wasn’t fibbing at all, he really does love your story. Your passionate nature for things you hold dear, to the point where you can’t ever properly capture them in anyway -albeit juvenile at times- was, and always will be his most favorite trait of yours (especially since it’s often about him. Alastor is nothing but a prideful man, one who’s proud to admit he'd preened like a peacock at your attention); but he might as well call it all a bore to your face, with how your brows drawn together and your one visible eye squinted at him. He can tell your energy for the day is running low, alongside the fact you’re somewhat miffed by something he can’t wrapped his head around, so he pulls you close.

“Now, why so quiet, dear? Did Hades took your voice along with that fool's beloved muse? You know yours truly would never dare to make a mockery of you or your stories.”

You dissected his ever-lasting smile, as if looking for any hint of a lie. Which, admittedly, bruised his pride a bit. But his jest did go on for a bit too long in the beginning, so he relented. When you’re satisfied with your conclusion, you turned away. Thinking deeply to yourself for mere seconds before you ask, “What do you think about the story though?”

“Is this one of those quizzes where there’s a wrong answer?” he grinned as you lean a bit closer, silently asking for permission before setting yourself into his side.

“If there’s one then you would’ve failed Al.”

“Ah, what a pity it would be~.” He set his arm around you and close his eyes. “What do I think of it…Why-”

With a snap of his fingers, he cheerfully exclaimed, “It’s quite the tale. Quite the tale if I have to be frank! Such a wonderful and tragic story with such wondrous derivations too!" He waves his arms in the air, "I can see why you would be fascinated with this! The romantic you are. Orpheus love for his dear Eurydice is truly admirable, truly. Though, I’d recommend him to be more careful next time. There were black smokes running from the candles, for crying out loud!”

Seemingly satisfied, although with the slightest hint of disappointment, you nodded along. “I don’t think there’s going to be a next time, but it was really silly. If black smoke starts to come out of my candles at my wedding? The wedding would just turn into baptism for the day. But I also get them though.” You nudges your head under his chin. “I mean, if you die of a snake bite right after our wedding, I’d also go to the underworld for you.”

Never mind the irony in the fact you two are in Hell, or the fact that his rotting heart beats just a bit faster at the idea of your casual tone while admitting you would go so far for him. He slyly chides, “Why, you want me to die by poison in a forest alone? How bewitchingly heartless of you~.”

“Hey! you wouldn’t be there alone…the snake should still hang around for long enough!”

Throwing his head back and shaking it left to right, his cackles fills the room as you hit him square in his shoulder while clamming your mouth shut.

“Ah, yes, yes. I won’t be alone at all, would I?” he sigh, “After all, even in the underworld, you would be right there, looking for me! Charming thing as you are, putting everyone in a trance with your words as you walk through the path leading to that grandiose fire palace!”

You opted to settled back into his shoulder afterwards, sounding more and more drowsy as the time catches up to you. “And then when I walked out of the place, you’ll be right behind me, right?” He grips you just a bit tighter, even when your voice are this quiet, he still wants to keep it to himself.

“I will be right behind you~. And I will do everything I can just for you to turn back and look at me.”

Alastor would be slightly concerned for your silence, if not for the fact that when he cranked his head to peak at you, you looked like the saddest little rodent in the world, head lulling back and forth as you try to keep yourself awake and formulate any slight resemblance of a respond.

“…You know, dear? I wouldn’t mind you resting here for the night. If you don’t mind sleeping on this couch that is.”

“Hm?…Oh. Oh! Thanks! You can drop me here once you’re done with whatever you’re doing then…” He choose to not mention the fact that he’s also going to be on the same couch for the rest of the night, you don’t need to know he’ll be sitting here until morning comes.

“Al…” As he’s reaching for his book, assured that you were dozing off, you suddenly call out to him, voice weak and droning.

“Yes, dear?”

“Which version of Orpheus mistake do you like the most?”

His claws weaves through your hair as he tries to recall the page number, knowing he’ll returned to it in just a bit. “What a delightful question! Personally, I find the idea of the fool forgetting about the rules and turning around because he just couldn’t hold himself back oh-so amusing!” he find it amusing, because not in a million years would he ever made that mistake. “What about you, dear? What do you think?”

“I think I like all of them. Because in all of them, Orpheus failed because he love Eurydice so badly.”

With ears pricked up and hand held in the air, hovering above your head just before he shake the feeling off and resume. “Hm, I didn’t quite catch that-” Laughing, just a tad bit taken aback, he look at you again, “Care to explain your thoughts?”

You yawn and nestled yourself against him, he can hear the sound of his own heart in his throat. He can feel his left ear flickering against the top of his head.

“Orpheus wasn’t ever going to get Eurydice back, either by interference or by normal circumstances. Because he go to the underworld and made a deal due to his love for Eurydice.”

It's a tragedy in the making, a mistake set to happen over and over again. Because Orpheus is a fool, and he loved Eurydice with all of his heart.

“He find his way to the underworld for Eurydice after losing her, only to then lost her again despite the trouble he went through. If he really is a coward, then he would’ve just live on without her from the start.” You shivered, a wandering breeze ran from the inner swamp to your spot. The fire place burns just a bit hotter. “But he made Hades and Persephone listened to his mourning, walked all the way to the gate, and then tries to go back and do it all again.” With eyes knitted shut, you mumbled to yourself, “He must’ve been so relieved and happy to finally have her back after everything …”

“To the point he would forget, and Orpheus looked back.”

"Yeah... you got it..."

Your head back in his lap, like how this silly story time began, except this time Alastor feels beyond unnerved by the churning in his stomach. It’s not exactly unwelcome, but he finds himself utterly exasperated by the fact he can’t properly recall what he was supposed to be doing.

“Alastor?” He thought you would’ve fallen asleep by now, but your eyes are still ever so slightly open, staring at him while your muttering something barely comprehensible, “Do you think you would’ve looked back?”

Just as easily as you said it in your hazy state, he's at a lost for words. Unable to properly be acquainted with the taste of honest word just yet, Alastor bend down just enough to placed a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose and try to find his voice as you hummed.

“Let’s us hope that we won’t ever have to find out, will we?” It’s unbecoming of himself, but he’s placing his all on you not remembering his wavering expression. “How about you then?” he whispered, Alastor don’t pray, but he hope you’ll forget the pain in his voice. “Will you promise me you’ll look back for me, even if it means we will never meet again until you rotted away?”

“I will.”

As your breathing finally evens and falls into a rhythm underneath a red duvet, Alastor find himself smiling a near unfamiliar smile, claws tapping in rhythm as he take a moment to himself.

“How very cruel of you, mon Chéri.”

He started from the beginning, already forgotten most of the plot in a night. He would look back, he thought to himself, eyes scanning a story about an old man beloved new coat. If looking back means he loved you more than the air he breathes, then Alastor will always look back. But unlike the foolish Orpheus, he will be the only mortal that entered the underworld more than once, as many time as it will takes him, as long as it means he can find you again.

(some say that at the end of his life and the beginning of his death. Orpheus would find himself amongst the phantoms, lost and wandering. and as Persephone see his wandering shadow, she plucked him from his misery. when he open his eyes for the first time again since his death, Eurydice is there, as beautiful as the day he lost her.)

#alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel imagine

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slightlyhozy · 2 months ago

Text

“Through the Cold, I’ll Find my Way Back to You” || Chapter One - “Honey, Don’t Feed it, it Will Come Back.”

Characters - Púca! Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Original Female Character

Summary - Maisie Quinn, after inheriting a home in Ireland from her late grandmother, slowly learns a dark past about the land in which it was built on.

Word Count - 2,184

Warnings - Nothing for this chapter other than light animal death!

A/N - SO EXCITED FOR THIS!! I will try to be consistent and write interesting chapters, we will get a real introduction to Andrew in the next chapter, I just wanted to introduce Maisie first and the setting. Please leave thoughts!

If you don’t know, a púca is a monster across European mythology that tends to be a shapeshifter, commonly taking form as a horse, goat, dog, cat, ect. They also take forms of humans which tend to have animalistic traits. They are known to play tricks on humans but never truly harm them. There’s a lot on them, so if you’re interested, I recommend looking into it. I am pretty consistent with the traditional idea of them but I will add my own elements as well. I will also explain any important information or facts if I feel is needed, feel free to ask as well!

“What’re you doing now?” I can hear Elsie snacking on carrots through the phone.

I sigh, hauling another box off of another, using my earbuds, we had been able to call all day despite the time difference. “Right now,” I grunt, setting the box on the ground, moving to search for my box cutter. “I am unpacking everything for the studio…” The room in question was a beautiful conservatory with beautiful glass windows curving upward. Outside, bushes with thorns and small berries could be seen, desperately in need of a trim.

“How different is it over there? I mean, you must’ve noticed something by now.”

“Well,” I huff, stepping back to appreciate the natural light coming into the room. “I live 40 minutes from Wicklow, which is nice…But I do miss the city already; it feels all so stretched out now.” It was terribly ironic of me to complain about Europe being big in comparison to America, but after being raised in downtown Seattle all my life, to be thrown into a village where I have to drive to get my groceries was different.

“We miss you.” Elsie pouted. “Who’s going to bring disgusting vegan dishes to every game night?”

I let out a laugh straight from my chest. “Sorry, babe, you just need to find another pretentious vegetarian then.”

Carefully, I pulled out my easels and canvases I hadn’t used yet. The room was mostly boxes, with only two work benches being built and a random spinny chair thrown out. Making this house look like the ones on Pinterest was going to be a process.

“Say, are you and Lydia going to be able to make up here for Christmas?" I ask, fighting the wooden easel to unfold.

I can hear her hiss, disappointment sinking in. “I… I don’t know, May…It’s just…busy right now. You know, if we can’t this time, we just will come up for our anniversary! We’ve always wanted to go to Ireland.”

“Oh, that’s alright.” My voice came out a bit more upset than I hoped, and I could feel the burning in my eyes, a small sniffle escaping me.

“Maisie..” Elsie said sweetly, making me butt in immediately.

“No! No, it’s ok. I get it. You two are working…married, busy, have all your friends there, it’s fine.” I hated how I reacted—so reminiscent of a child, I didn’t even notice the tears on my face.

“Maisie, I…” She paused, seemingly looking for the right words. “It’s going to be hard for a while, ok? But you’ll make lots of friends! And we will still talk every day, ok? Don't feel bad because you’re upset; it’s okay to be upset.”

“I know, thank you.”

I had moved from Seattle to New Castle, County Wicklow, a few weeks ago. A year before that, my grandma had died, who, other than Elsie, had been my best friend. The loss still hurt, but hopefully something good was coming out of it. In her will, I was left to this beautiful property near Greystones. The house itself was pretty humble but charming and well kept. The garden was very large yet outgrown. After living in the hustle and bustle of a city like Seattle, I needed this, something different, it was like she knew.

My grandma inherited the house from her grandmother, who’s grandmother owned the home before the "famine." My Irish family had left Ireland some time in the 1840s to New York, where we eventually found ourselves in Washington. Thinking back on how hard it had to have been to just be Irish in either country made me a bit proud to find myself back at this house, just like how the women before me wanted.

While modest, the home was well built and was a good distance from the beach, which I had been utilizing for walking Lenny. Since the 80s, our richer part of the family had used it for a vacation home, but as my grandmother got older, the only thing she made sure of the home was keeping it clean, despite the fact it was empty now.

——————————————————————

A while later, still unpacking, now in the kitchen, Lenny began doing circles around the kitchen, licking at my leg. “Shit, you’re out of dog food.” I whispered to myself, leaning down to pat his head. Now that I had actual utensils, pots, and dishes, I could finally move on from adapting to their version of Chinese takeout and cook myself a proper meal.

At the grocery store, I spent a lengthy time deciding which shape of pasta was the most appealing.

In my pasta-induced haze, a voice broke me out of it. “Gosh, you look just like her, all grown up.” I turn my head to see an older woman, around 70 or so, smiling up at me.

“Oh, did you…”

“Know Evelyn? Of course, I met you when you were just a wain.” Heat rose to my cheeks, It was always embarrassing to meet someone who knew you from your family in public. All I could think about was getting out of it. “I saw your…pictures on Facebook, and I mean, it was identical until…”

My hand instinctively went up to my head. “Oh? My hair? Yeah, uh, I mean, at least it’s going to a good place.” A few months ago, I had completely cut off the long hair I had growing down near my waist into a pixie cut; liking how it’s growing out, I plan to keep it.

“Such a shame what happened.” The older woman shook her head. “She was a good woman, ye grandmother.”

Awkwardly, I nodded along.

“Nice to see the property put to use, I hope the stories don’t get to you though.” That caught my attention.

“Stories?”

“Oh? You don’t know? There’s a saying that hundreds of years ago, when your family bought the land, it belonged to a monster…called a púca…Something about it torments the humans who lived on the land in an attempt to scare them off.” A small giggle escaped me; I was no stranger to legends and myths.

“It’s all coincidences though; lots of dead animals are found near the property; I’ve never heard of any real trouble happening.” She smiled sweetly. “God is on your side.” Obviously, being a devote atheist for over 10 years, I had no real fear of any monsters.

“Oh!” The woman beamed, reaching into her purse for a pen and notepad. “Here’s my number if you need anything, love, just a call away.” I watched as her shaky hands scribbled down her home phone, pressing it into my hands. Mary.

“Thank you, Mary; I’ll be sure to get in touch.” I smile as we part, my mind drifting back to the word. Púca… It sounded like puta. I stifled back a laugh.

——————————————————————

Later that night, while Lenny was eating out of his dog bowl in the kitchen, I guarded my large bowl of pasta on the makeshift pillow-blanket couch I had crafted for myself. I sighed softly, checking my phone every minute in case someone wanted to ask me how I was or send me a funny video. Instead, I sat alone in the room, rewatching episodes of Gilmore Girls until there was nothing left in my bowl.

As I washed out my bowl, laying it on the rack, Lenny ran around my legs with a toy, eagerly waiting for me to throw it across the house for him. I smiled fondly down at my boy, the only thing keeping me from losing my mind. “Hey boy, want me to throw it?” I cooed at him, kneeling down to his level, excited by my tone. He wagged his tail and did circles, coming back to me with the small rope. Taking it, I tossed it across the floor, enjoying his nails scraping the tiles as he ran towards it, prompting returning it.

After a few rounds of this, a scratch on the door caught my attention, causing my brow to raise and my anxiety to heighten. It’s fine. I thought to myself, tossing the toy again, watching him retrieve it. It could be anything. Anything? Like a…no. Stop. Wiping my face, I waited for Lenny to come back. As he trotted to me, the scratching was louder, more aggressive.

Setting him off, the small retriever began to bark at the door, his little body jumping back each time. Shushing him, I walked to the window, looking out; there was nothing I could see. Púca. I scoffed, shaking my head; it was just my brain. I took a deep breath, opening the door slowly, unreasonably anxious about what I might see.

As I did, my leg instinctively went to barricade the door, Lenny barking at the small creature in front of me. I didn’t know how to react to the fox in front of me; it stepped back slowly, looking at me, making sad chirp-like sounds. My brows furrowed at the sight. “Ok…” I drifted off; my initial thought was that the animal was hurt, but the way it walked around my patio indicated otherwise. Perhaps whoever took care of the house before fed it, but it hadn’t come before.

Being a natural animal lover and suck up, I close only the glass door, letting me see him still. The fox pranced around still before sitting down in front of the door, clearly with no intention of leaving. Lenny stood, his tail high on alert. “Lenny!” I called out disapprovingly as I heard his familiar low growls. In a small bowl, I scooped some of his food with a few pieces of left-over pasta on top.

Laying the bowl down, I went back inside; even if it wasn’t aggressive, I didn’t want to invade its space, even if I was guilty of interfering with nature in the first place. My eyes drifted over the animal’s fur; it was a warm brown all around, and the ears and feet were black. Under the jaw and belly of the fox, the fur was white, as was the tip of its tail. Mostly, I was looking for signs of mange—anything to indicate it was sick. On cue, it looked up; the way its green eyes flashed at me caused my face to stiffen as I saw the reflection of light in it’s eyes. I looked back; there was no light to cause the eye to shine, and as I looked back, it was gone. The house was silent except for the low growling of my dog and the crunching of the fox’s feast.

——————————————————————

“It was so weird!” I complained to Elsie over the phone, clutching my colorful robe, tea in the other hand.

“Maisie, usually you make amazing choices, but this was dumb.” She said it matter-of-factly.

I shake my head, pacing around the cold floor. “How? It was hungry, Elsie; what was I supposed to do? Let it starve.”

“No, you’re supposed to call the Irish Animal Control, obviously. It could have had rabies.”

“Rabies? I don’t think so.” I chuckled, so sure of myself. “It wasn’t like…foaming at the mouth or aggressive.”

“Maisie, when animals have like…early rabies or something, they act oddly tolerant to humans, was there mange? Was it dehydrated or anything?”

“No… It looked really healthy, actually. It just wanted food; no one got bit, no one got hurt. Elsie, It isn’t that big of a deal; it’s a one-time thing.”

I heard a deep, disappointed sigh escape her. “Maybe you should’ve been raised in the mountains…Look, when you feed animals, they expect that you will give them food; they’ll come back. When I was little, growing in Bend, I accidentally fed a raccoon once, and she brought generations of baby raccoons for years.”

Walking to my porch, wanting to enjoy my tea with the cool air, I open the door. “If it comes back, I just won’t feed it; I learned my lesson, ok.” My eyes immediately drifted down in front of me.

“Maisie?”

“Uh, sorry…” Carefully, I set my tea on the railing. On the concrete, I stared at a small rodent in front of me, absolutely gutted. “There is a mutilated mouse on my porch.” I said breathlessly, always hurt by any dead animals.

“Oh, see! Now it’s rewarding you!” She complained over the phone as I stayed silent.

“Do you think they’re like cats? Like, they’ll bring you dead stuff because they think you stink at hunting or something…” I wasn’t too sure what to do with the body.

“I don’t know,” Elsie said flatly. “What I do know is that you should stop feeding it; just for your and Lenny’s sake, I don’t want you calling me at 3 am because you have to get rabie shots in your ass, ok?” On my side of the phone, I nodded, immediately looking for a reason to hang up. “Oh shit, it’s already so late, ok, Maisie, I love you; I’ll call you later, ok?” Thank god. Is all I could think.

After using a poop bag to toss the animal into the outside bins, I went to pull out my laptop, pulling up my laptop and searching: What is a Púca?

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #hozier smut #rpf #hozier fanfiction #hozier #irish mythology #hozier songs #it will come back #Spotify

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trickstarbrave · 5 days ago

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im interested in learning more about nerevar but im having a hard time understanding, like, anything. if i wanted to get a feel for who he was and what he did outside of the main story questline of morrowind, where do i start? the tumblr nerevar scholars are always citing the most obscure lore and im like "WHERE is that FROM." i wanna be able to do that some day. Help !

First and foremost I must give a disclaimer: Morrowind lore is like IRL history. It’s super messy, and people have personal and sociopolitical motivations to lie about him. He was a prominent historical figure and hero that has been used to prop up the tribunal temple, so people have a lot of reasons to lie, as well as the fact he’s been sort of mythologized. So we don’t know for certain much about him. We have a lot of theories and a lot of things seemingly verified by multiple sources, but there is no 100% concrete account of his life and what he did. All sources will be biased, and we only have second hand accounts by people with a vested interest in lying at best, with all other accounts being the result of oral tradition going back 3000+ years.

(Also there might have been multiple timelines/realities. Which complicates things. Tl;dr the tribunal becoming gods might have resulted in them remaking reality so events would be different between those timelines)

If you haven’t read the books you collect during the main story that cover Nerevar, you really should! They provide a lot of information

This one isn’t part of the MSQ I believe but it’s pretty good

Another source that exists as in game lore is the songs of Wulfharth. There’s some ‘secret’ songs that are lesser known but describe an account of the battle of red mountain that is quite different. In this account, the Nords were invited by house Dagoth and the Tribubal potentially, but there appears to be a split in the Dwemer forces; some (led by Dumac, the king) were fighting alongside Nerevar, and the others fighting with Kagrenac. This is a bit more mythological/metaphorical of a text though, given Lorkhan has physically manifested and calls Nerevar the son of Boethiah. I believe Lorkhan is sort of possessing Numidium, and while the Nords see the Numidium as Shor/Lorkhan, the chimer and Dwemer probably just saw it as the Numidium. But YMMV. It’s a very different perspective on the battle though, but some details are oddly consistent with other accounts, and would lack the more typical dunmeri bias (but ofc the Nords are also biased. So. Keep that in mind)

Another source is the, AND I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH, nonliteral 36 lessons of Vivec, which do give us more insight into Nerevar. These events may not have all happened, but it’s highly likely some are accurate. For example: Vivec describes that Nerevar was originally a merchant caravan guard, who went on to kill the merchant in charge of it, taking ownership himself, before going on to join house Indoril and rose through the ranks. Also, both the 36 lessons and the songs of Wulfharth describe Nerevar as having keening at the battle of red mountain.

I’ll link the new whirling school website to help you get through it as well if you’re struggling to understand what the fuck

Another little source is varieties of faith. It describes that Nerevar is said to have ripped out Dumac’s heart and eaten it. Is this true? Possibly not. Do I want it to be true bc it’s hot? Oh yeah

Out of lore source I like as well was a piece written by Michael Kirkbride. This is technically non-canon/extra canon, and you do not have to take it as canon, nor anything kirkbride has written that isn’t in game. He just wrote a bunch of the Morrowind lore and vivec is his oc. It’s called “what my beloved taught me” (Nerevar would be the one asking the questions)

I thinkkkkkk that’s about it. You can also just check out Nerevar’s page on the UESP. I might have missed smth.

Most of the rest of it is insane Nerevar scholars like me making insane theories based on what’s read in the texts.

#Nerevar #Morrowind #tesblr #tes lore #sorry my meds just kicked in #if I am making no sense I apologize

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thedemigodsguide · 7 months ago

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Hi, Australian Son of Poseidon here, how have I not seen any monsters here? I know I'm a Son of Poseidon since I was claimed and had a trident appear above my head, and after research, found that I'd was the mark of Poseidon, should I make my way to camp Half-blood or should I stay where I am?

Eyyy! We got an Aussie! Cool! Nice to meet you!

From what I understand, pantheons and their monsters tend to be most common in their land of origin and their current point of most power. For us Greeks and Romans, that means the Mediterranean areas, like Greece and Italy, and then the USA, where the Olympians now reside.

Australia has its own pantheon, mainly being the Aboriginal mythology (if there are any other pantheons in addition to the Aboriginal, I don't know them, but would love to learn about them). It's pretty rare for monsters of one pantheon to go after demigods/members of another (Greco-Roman crossover doesn't count). For instance, there have been reports of beings from the Norse pantheon here on the East Coast, but we haven't really gotten into any conflict with them.

As a son of Poseidon, traveling to Camp Half-Blood will be pretty dangerous. You wouldn’t be able to fly, because Zeus hates any and all Big Three kids that aren't his own. He’d likely try to strike your plane down. Taking a boat may also be difficult, because it would take a very long time to travel from Australia to the US. Monsters would be drawn to you and may put everyone else on the ship in danger, too.

If it's truly necessary, you can contact me and I'll tell Chiron. The pegasus chariots may be able to reach you. Those should be safe enough due to Poseidon's connection to horses.

Do you have any weapons made out of celestial bronze or imperial gold? If not, I may be able to get Hermes Express to send you something. They're good for killing monsters, but will not harm any mortals.

Ultimately, if monsters aren’t coming after you, then you’re probably safer where you are. Once you step foot in the US, you're going to be a big target. So just look out for yourself, be careful. If anything changes, let me know right away.

I wish you all the best,

–Kally

#camp half blood #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #pjo #pjo fandom #blog #the goings on at camp #demigods guide #australia #poseidon #zeus #zeus pjo #monster #monsters

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zipstick-writes · 5 months ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The X-Files Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully Characters: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Original Characters Additional Tags: Animal Transformation, Case Fic, Season/Series 05, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, probably (i havent figured out the whole plot yet. so), putting the fox in fox mulder, (im turning him into a fox. for silly reasons), Other Additional Tags to Be Added Summary: “Five people gone and not a single witness testimony, nor a shred of evidence, that suggests where they might be, who or what might have taken them, or if they were even taken at all. Any theories, Scully?” - Five people in a small rural town in Colorado have gone missing under mysterious circumstances within a week of each other. The local PD suspects a serial kidnapper, but Mulder believes that something more supernatural is at play. Mulder and Scully fly out to investigate, but it's not long before one of them befalls the same fate.

damn im posting a fanfic for the first time in ummmmmm like 4 years? hahaha anyway hi x files fandom

tagging @today-in-fic

“Animal transformations.”

This is the phrase that greets Dr Dana Scully the second she walks through the door of the glorified storage closet in the basement of the Hoover Building that is the X-Files division of the FBI, on what would otherwise be an unassuming mid-June Monday morning.

“Run that by me again?”

“Animal transformations, Scully.” Says Mulder from beside the projector, and Scully knows from the excited look on his face and the dimmed lights in the room that she is in for one of his world-famous slideshow presentations. “Stories of humans turning into animals exist throughout history and transcend cultural borders. Dozens of stories in Greek myth of gods turning humans into animals, the Norse god Loki becoming wolves, horses, birds, the selkies of Celtic mythology which shed their seal-skins and become human. There’s also the Japanese Kitsune, powerful shapeshifting spirits which take the form of foxes! Not to mention the classic vampires turning into bats and men that become wolves in the light of the full moon.”

“Of course. Werewolves. How could I forget.”

“Precisely, Scully. Werewolves.” Mulder has a self-satisfied grin on his face, and he continues: “The phenomenon also appears in literature. I take it you’re familiar with the works of Shakespeare?”

“In A Midsummer Night’s Dream, when Bottom is turned into a donkey?”

“Right. And in Kafka’s Metamorphosis,” Mulder continues, flipping to a slide of an illustration depicting a giant insect lying on its back in a tiny bedroom, “when Gregor Samsa becomes a beetle because of the overwhelming stress from the demands of his employer and his family. Humanity is obsessed with shapeshifting, has been for millenia.”

“While it is endlessly enlightening to learn about the common threads that unite our species’ storytellers throughout time, Mulder,” Scully says in a flat voice with an exaggerated sigh, “what exactly is the point of all this?”

“The point, Scully,” He replies immediately, drawing out his pause for several moments for dramatic effect, “Is that tales of human-to-animal transformations exist all across the world, and have existed for just about as long as humans have. And these stories have to have started somewhere.”

Oh boy, here we go, Scully thinks. Couldn’t he have waited until I’d had some coffee? It’s barely 8 o’clock in the morning.

“Oh, Mulder, please, don’t tell me you’re suggesting-”

“Lightalley, Colorado is a small mountain town about two hours west of Denver by car. It’s known for picturesque views of the landscape, popular hiking trails, and, most recently,” he says, and flips one slide further to a missing persons poster, then another, and then three more, “several disappearances under mysterious circumstances.

“Freya Pennington, 33, was last seen eight days ago, on the 14th, in the backyard of her own home. Her fiancé, George, says she was there one moment and gone the next, and he reports hearing no sound to indicate that she was in distress even though he was in the kitchen facing the yard when she disappeared. Harley Williams, 27, is a recently qualified medical doctor. He lives alone, and his disappearance was only reported to the Lightalley Police Department when he didn’t show up to work at the local hospital on Tuesday. Edward Irwin, 49, and his daughter Ellie, 17, are tourists from New York who were last seen on Thursday leaving their hotel and heading in the direction of a hiking trail. Sydney McIntosh, 21, works at a bar and was last seen by her boss, Daniel Meyers, leaving her work at 1 o’clock on Friday morning at the end of her shift. Crime scene technicians have examined the locations of their last known sightings thoroughly and turned up nothing. No blood, no weapons, no DNA samples, not even the victims’ possessions. None of the victims have connections to one another, and none of the disappearances happened within two miles of each other.

“Five people gone and not a single witness testimony, nor a shred of evidence, that suggests where they might be, who or what might have taken them, or if they were even taken at all. Any theories, Scully?”

“Well, it could be that they left of their own volition, however this many people disappearing in this short a timespan makes that rather unlikely. Perhaps there is a serial kidnapper at work here, but given that the first victim’s partner was at the scene and didn’t see or hear anything, that could be discounted as well, or in the case of a kidnapper the first disappearance may be unrelated to the rest. I really couldn’t tell one way or the other without speaking to the local PD. But I’m guessing you had your own theory ready before I even walked in the door, didn’t you?”

“You know me, Scully, always prepared.” He replies, smiling. “While it is true that Lightalley PD’s forensics team didn’t find anything that suggested a struggle, indicating that kidnappings were unlikely, that doesn’t mean they didn’t find anything. At each location, there have been footprints leading away.”

“Footprints belonging to who?”

“Not who, Scully, what. Animal tracks, in every case leading away from the crime scene, but not towards it. As if they simply came into being right then and there.”

“Animal tracks.”

“Absolutely, Scully. Victim #1, a rabbit. Victim #2, an elk. Victims #3 and #4, coyotes, two sets of tracks alongside each other. And victim #5, some sort of large bird, perhaps a raven, which end a few yards away from the bar, implying takeoff.”

“Mulder, please don’t tell me you believe these people were somehow transformed into animals.” She says, halfheartedly glaring at him. When he responds with a shrug of his shoulders and a mischievous grin, she just lets out a resigned sigh. “Alright, what time do we leave?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” is Mulder’s reply as he hands her a plane ticket. “We leave at seven tonight. See you there, Scully.”

Scully’s just glad the packing means she gets the rest of the day off.

#fox mulder #dana scully #the x files #x files #txf #the x files fanfiction #x files fanfiction #txf fanfiction #the x files fanfic #x files fanfic #my fics #my writing #my ramblings

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blackcatrph · 1 year ago

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» ━━ BARBIE BIG CITY BIG DREAMS : LYRIC STARTERS.

lyrics taken from the barbie big city big dreams animation. please alter any pronouns when sending if needed.

“ i love the concrete jungle. ”

“ i’m a beach girl. ”

“ together we’re the best of both possible worlds. ”

“ our duo’s so dynamic. ”

“ like fire and rain, together we can set it off and make a big bang. ”

“ hey universe, look who’s coming at you. ”

“ for the first time i found my perfect match. ”

“ how did we ever survive before us ? ”

“ all i need now in my life is more us. ”

“ it’s like we’re meant to be, like destiny, so right. ”

“ i just go with the flow. ”

“ i plan out every day. ”

“ our master plan will lead us straight to broadway. ”

“ put respect on this groove. ”

“ through thick and thin. ”

“ we’ve got the brightest future. ”

“ where’ve you been? because i wish i’d met you sooner. ”

“ look and learn. ”

“ feel the burn. ”

“ just try harder. ”

“ this is tough. ”

“ tighten up. ”

“ my spirit is deflating. ”

“ my fear’s inflating. ”

“ this school is calling my bluff. ”

“ hope i have the right stuff. ”

“ remember how to be brave. ”

“ can i get out of my head ? ”

“ grind on my mind. ”

“ work it double time. ”

“ never fall a step behind. ”

“ this is what you wanted. ”

“ don’t be daunted. ”

“ just be patient and relax, cut yourself some slack. ”

“ why am i the only one who keeps scrambling and face planting ? ”

“ this is draining. ”

“ stop complaining. ”

“ i know it’s worth the trouble. ”

“ did everyone see ? ”

“ of course they saw. ”

“ pull yourself together. ”

“ practice until it’s perfect. ”

“ plant your feet. ”

“ use your core. ”

“ keep the beat. ”

“ get off the floor. ”

“ how can you even show your face ? ”

“ i’m losing my mind. ”

“ i flew in on cloud nine. ”

“ made a new best friend. ”

“ there wasn’t a question that everything would work out perfectly. ”

“ spoke too soon. ”

“ worst in the room, like a total crash landing. ”

“ i’m not going to let that keep me down. ”

“ it’s all about those good vibes. ”

“ take a look at me, so on pointe and savvy. ”

“ the whole world at my feet. ”

“ didn’t know what fear meant. ”

“ guess i’m not immune to the laws of gravity. ”

“ crutches won’t be keeping me earthbound. ”

“ is the glass half full or half empty ? ”

“ let the positivity take over. ”

“ como se dice ? let me put it this way. ”

“ chequen esto, chicas, mi visión loca. ”

“ my imagination soars. ”

“ got to spread my wings and get to higher ground. ”

“ back here again, losing a friend. ”

“ i thought i was strong, but i’m reeling. ”

“ this time felt different, our connection was instant. ”

“ that was pure magical thinking. ”

“ just move on from the pain. ”

“ soon it’ll fade like a memory. ”

“ you’ll start over again. ”

“ evolving from this fateful origin story. ”

“ a chariot streaks across the sky so majestically. ”

“ two girls on an odyssey in the city that never sleeps. ”

“ riding high on a merry go round of modern mythology. ”

“ discovered a new part of me in a fated friend. ”

“ i knew finding you would be an epic journey with no end. ”

“ you can’t see shooting stars in the city of marquee lights. ”

“ fate brough us together then tore us apart. ”

“ i wish i could go back and restart. ”

“ i’ll race across the sky to a work where dreams and friendships aren’t destined to collide. ”

“ stranded on this lonely island. ”

“ great beginnings don’t get happy endings. ”

“ glorious mythologies can slip out of your reach. ”

“ in reality, best friends leave. ”

“ you’re my fiercest competition. ”

“ we’re best friends, no contradiction. ”

“ never let jealousy get in our way. ”

“ help each other up. ”

“ you set the bar, i’ll raise it. ”

“ you won’t catch me holding back. ”

“ why should our drive divide us ? ”

“ let’s let our strength unite us. ”

“ i’ve still got your back. ”

“ see you at the finish line. ”

“ when you need the strength to clear it, i’m gonna be there cheering. ”

“ i’m never leaving you behind. ”

“ if you stumble, just keep your fight on. ”

“ follow my voice to my arms. ”

“ we’re going hard and we’re going together. ”

“ we know what we want. ”

“ we’re giving up never. ”

“ we were born to show the world just who the boss is. ”

“ stopping more traffic than midtown rush hour. ”

“ you know we’re doing it right. ”

“ lean on my shoulder. ”

“ we’ve got each other, that’s the way it’ll always be. ”

“ bank on our future, it’s gold. ”

“ we’ll wake up with our names in lights. ”

#ask meme #rp ask prompts #rp meme #rp prompt #rp memes #rp ask memes #rp starter meme #starter meme #rp meme starter #rp sentence starters #barbie rp meme #rp lyric meme #lyric rp meme #lyrical meme #help this is so fruity

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promenadewithme · 1 year ago

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Chapter 2 (The Kiss of Eros)

a/n: here is chapter 2! all feedback is always welcome <3 pairing: Spencer Reid x Rebecca Sanders (original character) warnings: whirlwind of emotions here, be ready. someone gets hurt, blood, guns, fire, feelings so many feelings. word count: about 3k

Series Masterlist

The hot humidity of the subway hits me like a slap on the face. I remove my sweater, leaving me in my white button-up, and tie it around my shoulders.

“Have you ever taken the LA metro?” he asks beside me.

He’s also wearing a white button down, but his are rolled up at his arms, covered by a gray sweater vest and paired with charcoal pants.

“Nope, you?”

“I thought you were experienced.” he jabs and my face twitches.

“At public transportation, not specifically Los Angeles. Vegan city isn’t exactly my go-to holiday destination.” I answer while switching back to my normal square glasses.

“Where, then?”

“Where what?” I ask, trying to figure out which rail to take.

“Where is your go-to holiday destination?” he turns towards me, hands in his pockets, and I pause.

Is he trying to make small talk?

“I-I’ve always wanted to visit Scotland.” I offer.

He nods, looking at the map.

“Did you know that Scotland's official animal is the unicorn?” he asks.

“Yes, I did know that.” I offer a smile.

“Odd, though, isn’t it? That an official animal isn’t even a real animal?”

“Y-yes, I guess so.” I stutter.

“The first record of unicorn myths actually dates back to Mesopotamia.” he gesticulates while looking at the map “Many people think it originated from Greek mythology, but they just confuse the unicorn with the pegasus. Even though they are completely different, their only common factor being the body of a horse. Unicorns have a single horn on their head, while Pegasuses - or Pegasi - have wings.”

I gawk at him.

He’s actually talking to me. About unicorns. I am so incredibly confused right now. This is probably the most he’s ever said directly to me.

His gaze meets mine and he immediately turns away, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. I look back at the map, searching for the rail that takes us to the address Pen sent.

“We should take rail C.” I say, turning to look at him.

He’s already looking at me. All I get is a nod before he spins on his heel and walks towards the railway.

We wait behind the yellow line in silence until the metal tube arrives. The station filled with a few people after we arrived, but not enough to mean there wouldn’t be seats for us. Good, my feet are starting to hurt from the heels and I chide myself for not packing more comfortable shoes.

As soon as the doors open, I move to sit close to the exit when a large hand closes around my upper arm.

“No you don’t.” He orders, lifting me before I have the chance to sit. “Do you know how many microbes are on that seat?”

“I don’t and I really don’t want to know, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Trillions, Sanders. Trillions.”

I grimace and notice his hand still holds my arm. I’m pretty sure this is the first time he has ever touched me. So much for Dr ‘I don’t do handshakes’.

Snatching my arm from his grip, I ask “Well you don’t even shake peoples hands, so I doubt you’ll hold the support bars. Without them, you’ll be falling more than a sailor in the north sea, so what’s your solution?”

He doesn’t answer me, instead he opens his satchel and takes out two wet wipes, holding one out to me.

“We’ll sanitize our hands when we get there.” he states, grabbing the rod with the wipe as a barrier between it and his hand.

I hate to admit it, but that’s kind of genius. I’ll never tell him, though.

“Fine.” I huff and copy his actions, just in time for the metro to start moving.

He keeps his free hand tight on the strap of his satchel, eyes drifting between me and the floor. He’s nervous. Over the past year I’ve known Spencer, I’ve learned about his germophobia. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for him to be stuck in a metal tube swarming with trillions of microbes. Maybe if I can get his mind off of it…

“Let’s play a game.” I suggest, immediately regretting it.

This man is a genius and you want to play a game with him? Like a little kid? That voice reprimands in my mind.

“A game?” he asks slowly.

“You know what? Never mind, it’s stupid. I don’t know what I was th-” I splutter before he interrupts me in a soft voice.

“What game?”

My mouth opens and closes as I scour my mind for a game worthy of his intelligence. Dear lord, is there even one?

I think of every game possible. Rock, paper, scissors. Never have I ever. I spy. Truth or dare. He looks at me expectantly and I blurt out the first game on my mind “20 questions.”

“20 questions?” he asks.

I’m so dumb. So fucking stupid. I just suggested that Dr Spencer Reid play 20 questions with me.

“How do you play?” He looks interested.

Oh, okay.

“You’ve never played 20 questions?”

“I um,” he scratches his neck, crimson tingeing his cheeks. “I didn’t have all that many friends growing up.”

“Oh, well… that’s ok. I’ll teach you.” I nod.

When he doesn’t say anything, I start explaining the rules of the game.

“So, basically, person number 1 thinks of something - anything. A person, an object, a band, a place. That person then says ‘I am a country’, for instance. Then person number 2 has 20 yes or no questions to figure out what country that person is. Got it?”

He nods and asks “Can I start?”

“Sure.”

Okay, we’re eager. Good.

“I am a person.” he states.

“Alright, are you a woman?”

“Yes.” he nods.

“Are you from this century?”

“No, she’s actually from-” he starts, but cuts himself off before mumbling to himself “Yes or no questions. Just yes or no.”

I nod and hide my smile.

“Are you a monarch?”

“No.”

“A writer?”

“Nope.”

“A scientist?”

“Yes!” he exclaims with a smile.

He has a very nice smile. It’s a rare sight for me. He does smile a lot, but it usually fades when I enter the room.

“Is there a Disney princess based on you?”

“No, not Jane.”

“Did you study dark matter?”

“Not Freese either.” I can tell that he’s dying to tell me and his excitement is contagious “Come on, Becca. Think about the most obvious answer.”

Becca. He’s never called me that before. I like it.

“Rosalind Franklin?” I try.

“So close, come on. Just one step before her.”

“Marie Curie!” I exclaim.

“Yes!” he laughs.

“I love Marie! I have a magnet of her on my fridge.”

“You have a Marie Curie magnet?”

“Yes.” I smile and he just stares.

But this time, it isn’t a bad stare. I wouldn’t mind if he stared at me like this.

“Okay, okay. My turn.” I say.

I already knew what I would pick from the start, so I hint “I am a book.”

“A book?” he tilts his head.

“Is that your first question, doc?” I joke.

“No, no.” he shakes his head and brings his fingers to rest on his chin “Let me think.”

We’re closer to each other than we were before. Close enough for me to see the light stubble beginning to grow on his face and how his lips look slightly chapped.

Is he not drinking enough water? A voice whispers in my mind.

I notice I’m staring at his lips when he asks “Are you a romance book?”

“Yes.” I focus my attention on his eyes and, for the first time, he holds contact with mine.

At least he does for a few seconds, which is enough for me to notice the amber streaks in the midst of his chocolate brown irises.

“Are you from this century?”

“No.”

“Pride and Prejudice.”

I blink at him, mouth agape “How did you do that?”

“You read a lot of romance books.” He shrugs “I thought it could be your current read, but you’re reading a christmas rewrite of groundhog day so definitely not. Statistically, in these situations, we tend to pick something we can see at the moment, have seen recently or a favorite of ours. Considering there aren’t any books around and it’s not your current read, your pick could only have been your favorite.”

“How did you know Pride and Prejudice is my favorite?” I ask, completely shocked that he knows my reading preferences.

Though, thinking rationally about it, he is a profiler. He’s just doing his job and noticing his surroundings.

“It’s the only book you’ve repeated in the last year. You’ve read it three times. Plus all the times I’ve found you watching the 2005 version with Garcia in her office while going on about something you called the ‘hand flex’ scene.” He looks confused at that last part, but shakes his head before looking expectantly at me.

I realize he’s waiting for me to confirm his answer.

“Yes, you’re right. You won.”

“I never lose.” he simply answers before looking away with a small smile.

Maybe working with him won’t be so bad after all.

***

Spencer knocks on the last partner’s house, his black Ray-Ban sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose. We wait a few beats, but there is no reply. Strange.

“FBI, open up.” Reid bangs against the door.

“Maybe they aren’t home?” I suggest.

“Do you have your gun?” he asks.

I move my hand to hike up my skirt and his gaze follows as I remove my glock gen 5 from the holster strapped to my thigh.

“Do you think we’ll need it?” I question, but hear the answering sound of glass shattering inside the house.

We exchange looks and snap into action. Reid jogs to the left side of the house and I stick to the right, checking the corners and bushes for movement with my gun held in defensive. I dial Pen’s number and leave the ringing phone in my pocket. I reach a window and look inside quickly. Clear. Clear and unlocked.

The smell of benzene reaches my nose before I completely open the window. He’s here. Why did he change his pattern? He just set a fire a couple of hours ago.

Maybe he thought we wouldn’t expect it. He was right, I certainly wasn’t. Maybe he was afraid he was going to get caught and was eager to finish the job.

I hear Reid’s voice and follow it to the living room, where the whole family is held hostage. They are each tied to a chair and completely wet with what I assume is the benzene. Four chairs. Two adults, two kids. Their screams of terror are muffled by his makeshift gags. There is a stuffed teddy on the floor next to white flowers and what looks like a broken vase. Their tiny faces are red from screaming and crying. He is going to kill the kids.

I thought I escaped this side of the job when I left CASMIRC. Adults can fight back, adults have flaws and maybe could have done something to deserve what they got, but the kids? They still have the hope and innocence that humanity takes from us once we reach a certain age. They are too young to know what is happening, but what does happen scars them for life. And if it doesn’t, that means I was too late. That means their lifeless faces scar me for life. Haunt me every minute that I am awake and in my nightmares. No, the kids never deserve it.

Spencer’s calm voice brings me back from my thoughts. “I know it was unfair. I know that what they did was wrong, but you don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do.” his voice booms and the woman cries behind her gag “They have to pay for what they have done to me. Put your gun down!”

He slowly lowers the gun to the floor before saying “You want revenge.” Reid looks at me for a millisecond, he’s buying me time “I understand the feeling.”

I take a step closer, still out of sight, and try to come up with a plan.

Think! That voice yells in my minds

He has a gun and a lighter. The lighter is on. If I shoot, it falls and we all die.

“You have been wronged?” the unsub, Anthony Lewis, asks.

“I have.” he nods.

When Anthony doesn’t say anything, he continues “I used to be considered the smartest guy at my job. Then, about a year ago, they hired someone new. I’ll tell you,” he laughs humorlessly “everyone thinks she’s so smart.”

“She?” Anthony questions.

He’s talking about me? Why the hell is he talking about me?

“Oh, yes. She. Everybody loves her. She’s so perfect and so smart and so young and so sweet. That’s what they say about her.” He scoffs and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him gesticulate this much. My heart races and constricts in my chest as he continues “But I’ll tell you what I think. I think she’s nothing more than a pretty face, that’s honestly not even that pretty. She’s not smart, she’s a far cry from perfect. I’m better than her in every single way”

I hold in my gasp. I try to tell myself that he’s just distracting the UnSub, that his speech means nothing, but tears still well up in my eyes.

He doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t mean it, it’s not true, it’s not true, it’s not true, …

I repeat it over and over in my head, but it’s no use. It’s no use because it’s what my mind tells me every single moment of every day.

You’re not good enough, Rebecca.

You’re not smart enough. You are not pretty enough. You are not brave enough. You! Are! Not! Enough!

“But, you know what? There is something that comforts me, something that helps me keep going. One thought that I play over and over in my head to keep me sane.”

“What is it?” he asks.

His hand drops and I see that his grip loosened on the lighter. There is no longer a flame. He still has a gun so I have to be smart with this, but I walk in his direction, keeping to the wall.

“That someday, hopefully soon, they will see right through her little facade and realize that I’m the best.”

That’s enough.

I kick the lighter out of the UnSub’s hand and move to disarm him, but he’s faster. Before I can react, he pulls the trigger. I push his hand down, but I think it still hits my leg. I can’t tell, it doesn’t hurt.

Where the fuck is my gun?

I grab his gun by the barrel with my left hand and upper-cut his nose with my right. Taking advantage of the distraction his broken nose brought him, I twist the gun right off his hand and point it at him.

“Anthony Lewis, you are under arrest for the murders of the Phillips family, the Jones family and the Martinez family,” Reid comes from behind the unsub and cuffs him “as well as the attempted murder of the Andersons.”

FBI agents swarm the room and take him away. Hotch and Emily are already taking the family to the ambulance, so I grab my phone from my pocket and see that Pen is still on the line.

“Hey.” I greet.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” she exasperates.

“I’ll be fine.” I say, picking up my gun on the floor. What Reid said hurt, but I’ll get over it. Maybe not now, maybe in a few years, maybe after a bottle of wine and a good cry, but I will get over it.

I am a little dizzy, though. Must be all this benzene. Even my tights are wet with it.

“Are you sure? I heard gunshots.”

Oh, shit. Right.

I look down and see the red blood oozing down my leg, the bullet lodged somewhere on my upper thigh. Well, fuck. I really liked this skirt.

Adrenaline must still be coursing through my veins because I take a tentative step forward and it only stings a little. I keep limping around the house, trying my best to keep pressure on the wound while walking.

“Yeah, um- Pen? I’ll talk to you later. There are some uh- pressing matters I have to attend to.”

“You got shot, didn’t you?” she gasps.

I sigh. Why does she have to know me so well?

“Just a little, yeah.” I wince at a painful step.

“There is no such thing as getting a little shot!” she exclaims in my ear and the dizziness gets worse.

Pain shoots everywhere with every step I take, slowly but surely becoming unbearable. Shit, I think I might pass out.

I reach the front of the house feeling lightheaded and I think my phone is slipping from my hand. I look back at the trail of blood I left behind and just stare as the world spins around me.

Two hands grip my shoulders and I think Spencer is trying to say something. I push him away, but he doesn’t even move. I’m so mad at him.

So, so mad.

The last thing I see before the world fades to black are his wide eyes.

tag list: @dreamsarebig @aaleksmorozova @jem08

tell me if you want to be on the tag list!

#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x oc #the kiss of eros

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empyrean-thrones · 13 days ago

Note

I have a question about your M’eudial series (which I love by the way🥰🥰). In the 4th part, Naolin talks about how that isn’t his real name and he doesn’t feel comfortable sharing it.

Will that be elaborated on in a later fic and will we ever learn his real name?

And secondly, where did you get the idea for the Rigai and the whole plot/lore around it because it is bomb and I literally just consider it and Nao’s backstory canon now.

Again, love you works and thank you for taking the time to answer!😁

Omg thank you so much!!! I’m glad you love this series!

And it’s funny you sent this ask because I was just talking about this with a friend a few minutes before you sent it. I plan on writing a fic where they get married so it’ll definitely be mentioned in there at some point. 🥰

The Rigai is partially based off of the Morrigan from Irish mythology. She serves as a harbinger of death who typically appears to riders and fliers alike (though Navarre doesn’t recognize her as a god). She usually just pops in to say “hey, you’re gonna die in x days. Just a heads up.” Sometimes she takes the souls the stillborn and infants, but mostly stays around soldiers since they die more often. Occasionally, she can be bartered with, but gambling with your life is usually advised against due to the high cost. She’s also close pals with Malek.

But the plot of that story came to me in a bout of panic because it was for a fic exchange and I had a real bad case of writer’s block. Eventually, I said “fuck it” and went with Naolin’s death scene since I had literally hours before the deadline hit. As soon as I got off work I rushed to my computer and started typing like a madman lol. I’d already planned for Naolin to be from Poromiel before then; I just couldn’t find a way to incorporate it into my story.

Originally, it was going to be a time loop story where he kept repeating his time at Basgiath + deployment years up until the Tyrrish Rebellion. Every time he died, the loop would reset back to the day before Threshing. I recycled the idea into a part of the Deep End since it’d take longer for me to flesh out.

I know if we get any canon shit about Naolin, it might completely override the M’eudail series, but shh. Canon died with Liam. We write our own lore in this household.

#jey speaks #fourth wing #asks #Justice-for-rei #Naolin

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tanoraqui · 2 years ago

Note

🔥🤔💀 for the ask game!

💀first because Anon wanted it too: You have a "Get out of jail 'Doomed by the Narrative' free" card. Who do you give it to?

My first thought was Celebrimbor, but my second thought was, “or Huan?”, and that actually solves later problems too because narrative & Mandosian doom or no, Huan would keep looking after his two-legged nephew, and the second Annatar entered Eregion it’d be ON SIGHT, MOTHERFUCKER.

🔥 Give us your hottest Silm hot take.

It is fun to find mundane explanations for dramatized mythology, but Middle Earth is THE fantasy world so, like…why? Isn’t that boring?

The Oath isn’t just a matter of pride, grudge and familial loyalty, they literally all CURSED themselves with this compulsion, and they can ignore it, appease it, rules-lawyer around it…but it will never go away fully, not while the Silmarils exist and could potentially be stolen again, and if the Oath-takers are ever re-embodied, they just have to keep working at being better than their worse selves, forever. Fëanor isn’t just a charismatic crown prince and skilled crafter—Miriel loaded that kid with like 3 elves worth of fëa so now he has a Carrot Ironfounderson-esque 26 Charisma and his theme in the Great Music is more notable than many others’, such that it is difficult to deliberately stand against him unless you’re a real Antagonist—and that’s real, people are aware of it, and when one day Fëanor is released from Mandos on parole, he’s going to need to learn how to tamp it down in order to not cause more problems!

🤔 Tell us one of your favorite Silm headcanons. Can be one that's out in the wild or a personal one!

Crowns are a symbol of kingship in Middle Earth specifically and directly because they were Finwë’s favorite form of jewelry. He just liked them. So he wore them a lot, wore fancier crowns for specialer occasions, made them and gifted them to his friends and family, and everyone gave him crowns in turn…

Crowns were a symbol of Finwë, so they were a symbol of kingship among the Noldor, because, fundamentally, taking Dad’s/Grandad’s role means you get to wear Dad’s/Granddad’s hat. The Noldor brought this to Beleriand and taught it to the Edain, and inadvertently taught it to the Sindar & etc because Thingol is competitive and wanted to outdo the Noldor in their own adornment game… Finwë was named for being “the one with the hair”, but by the time his grandchildren were being born, it was functionally synonymous with “the one who is crowned”—classic Elvish wordplay, really.

(Why IS Finwë named “the one with the hair”, you ask? Well, the dichotomy of Finwë is thus: he is the ORIGINAL tv character whose hair is implausibly still perfect no matter what. Finwë could, and has, wrestled a Morgoth-warped bear tumbling down a steep, muddy hill and leapt up at the bottom with blood on his teeth but not a single speck of anything untoward in his long raven locks. Finwë could stand before Manwë with the Lord of Skies in a thundering, windstorming rage and not a single hair would be misplaced (save artistically). BUT ALSO Finwë could bathe, wash and brush his hair, and go directly from that to a bare field on a windless day and still, when you blinked, have twigs, leaves, a couple paperclips, and perhaps an inhabited bird’s nest in his hair. Both of these are true simultaneously.)

#theghostinthemargins #the silmarillion #ak meme

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emmys-grimoire · 2 years ago

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Nightbringer - Lesson 2 Summary & Analysis

We scheme with Mammon, and learn a bit more about pacts.

The Story

Leviathan is shrieking. Lucifer had strung him up as punishment for bringing a snake into the house. Mammon and Asmodeus are there to mock and torment him, and Asmodeus points out Mammon was the one actually responsible for conjuring Henry 1.0 in the first place. Levi protests, claiming he only saved the downsized snake from Satan and Mammon chastises him, thinking he should suffer even more for that. He spins him from the ceiling.

Solomon strolls by and asks what we’re doing. Since it’s late, he came by to escort us back home. He asks where Lucifer is, and Asmo reveals he’s still out searching for the giant snake. Leviathan continues to protest his innocence. Solomon reveals he’s magically shrunk the snake and it’s in his posession. Levi fawns over it and it slithers into Levi’s pocket. Henry 1.0 has arrived. Mammon calls it a worm and Levi angrily corrects him.

Solomon says he found a pamphlet about the Devildom. It mentions a legendary creature which dwells in the Demon Lord’s castle. Anyone who tames this creature is rewarded with the title “Ruler of the Underworld”. Naturally, it piques Mammon’s interest, who was seething about the disrespect they were shown in the last lesson. You can express a desire to check it out yourself, and you get affection with Solomon and he compliments your ever-present fearlessness.

Asmo wants to get back to the snake. He says Lucifer is going to be mad once he returns if it’s in Levi’s possession. We can suggest he ask to keep it as a pet. He thanks you, but insists he doesn’t actually like you.

On our way out with Solomon, we encounter Belphegor and Beelzebub. They have a big pile of complaints from the neighbors about the giant snake rampaging around the house. Apparently Solomon blew the roof off someone’s house when he shrunk it and they’re demanding compensation. Solomon brushes it off.

Belphegor notes Mammon is acting weird and not his normal obnoxiously loud self. Mammon denies he’s scheming though he clearly is.

On the trip back to your dorm, you tell Solomon that Diavolo wanted to make you a founding member of RAD. And the giant snake story. He says you had quite a rough day and he’ll make you something to eat when you get back home. Thankfully, you can suggest you eat out so you don’t get an early game over.

You head to a restaurant and Solomon marvels at the menu, stating the staples existed even this far back. He claims you’re adapting well to your new situation. You can thank him or the brothers for that. He tries to comfort you when he mulls over how the brothers don’t remember you. He talks about how your bonds remain even across time, and we just need to take things one step at a time.

Mammon texts you and tells you to be at the House of Lamentation tomorrow. He thanks you for cheering up Leviathan.

You run into Lucifer when you enter the main hall. He asks what you’re up to, and you can either confess that Mammon asked you to come or claim you’re here to see him because you missed him. If you do the latter, he sees through your lie and tells you that Mammon and the others are in the library. He correctly deduces they’re scheming, and reminds you that you’re their attendant (though you have to drag that part out of him).

You head to the library to meet up with the others. Asmo is enthused to see you, but Beelzebub and Belphegor are surprised that you’re actually going along with whatever Mammon’s cooked up. Satan’s nearby napping. Mammon shows up and gives his pitch: in order to acquire the respect of the rest of the Devildom, he wants to raid the Demon Lord’s Castle so they can find and tame this fearsome creature – Cerberus.

In Greek mythology, Cerberus is a multi-headed dog that guards the gates of the Underworld. In the original game, he's Lucifer's pet, so we can deduce how this will end.

The brothers are less than convinced. Levi says it’s just a rumor, but Mammon points out a section in the pamphlet that claims that the creature is real and does exist and names the beast. Beelzebub reveals that even the Celestial Realm has heard of Cerberus, lending more validity to the claim.

Belphegor reads further and they learn that Cerberus is protected by a complex charm that prevents would-be tamers from even reaching him, which wakes Satan up. Satan says he’s read a book about the spell protecting Cerberus and he knows how to dispel it.

Mammon’s thrilled, and you get the opportunity to compliment Satan and make him blush.

Naturally, they soon get carried away with the compliments and Satan gets offended.

Fast forward to the next day. We meet up again to review the plan. When then run into Solomon trying to get Lucifer to make a pact with him (he does this frequently in the main game). Lucifer refuses, naturally. He tries to sweeten the tea by offering daily deliveries of the finest teas from the human world, but Lucifer isn’t interested. Lucifer spots us and asks us where we’re going, and we tell him we’re dropping by the castle. Solomon makes a remark about us and Mammon having grown close and Mammon immediately blushes, stutters, and denies – all but confirming that he has.

He drags us off in a huff.

We get a one-on-one conversation with a flustered Mammon, where we can ask him to make a pact with us. He thinks it’s crazy!

Apparently demons can’t make pacts with other demons. Good to know.

It seems like this time around they’re emphasizing the consequences of making pacts more, so Mammon’s not likely to just make one over a credit card any more! I like this change. We also learn angels can be a guardian to one human and one human only.

You can ask him how he feels about humans and he doesn’t care one way or another. When he was an angel, he never was a guardian to one of them. He’s also never had a romantic interest in one. He asks why you’re asking all these strange questions, and you have the option to indicate your interest in him if you have any.

If you just say he’s funny, he calls you his servant and orders you around, naturally.

You finally arrive at the castle and Mammon realizes he never thought what the next step might be. He suggests we just go find Diavolo and ask him where Cerberus is, but Barbatos interrupts us and demands to know why we’re here. Mammon struggles to remember his name and Barbatos reminds him. Mammon claims all demon names sound the same (ironic considering they’re much more varied than the typical angel names tbh) and then we have the opportunity to introduce ourselves as either Solomon’s romantic partner or apprentice.

You soon learn that Barbatos and Solomon do *not* have a cordial relationship at this point in the past, in sharp contrast to their friendship in the present timeline.

Barbatos leads you into the ballroom but tells you that Diavolo is not present at the moment. You choose to ask him questions instead, but before Mammon can ask him where Cerberus is you interject and tell Barbatos that Mammon wants a job at the castle. Mammon initially freaks out, but deduces you mean to find Cerberus by posing as employees. Barbatos refuses at first, because Mammon once tried to infiltrate the treasure vault previously. He reconsiders when you suggest he hire both of you, so you can monitor Mammon, but insists on giving you both a job interview first.

We go outside and get drilled with questions about tea etiquette. Naturally, I fail every single question but still pass.

He starts us off with cleaning duty. He summons a Little D to instruct us, and Mammon asks if he knows where Cerberus is. They don’t recall seeing anything like Cerberus in the castle but they know a rumor that if you hang out in the gazebo you can hear a dog howling in the distance.

The lesson ends there, but you can guess where we’re going!

Thoughts and Analysis

Pact Lore, Guardian Angels

It’s not very significant and doesn’t change much, but this lesson we learned that demons cannot forge pacts with other demons. This is relevant because at no point does Solomon tell us this pertinent fact even though he tells us we must reforge our pacts with the brothers in order to get back into the future. This tells me that, at some point, he anticipates the brothers figuring out we’re human -- because they’d have to know that to even consider making a pact with us in the first place. Right now, the brothers think we’re a fellow demon.

Additionally, while demons can make multiple pacts, angels can only choose to be the guardian angel of one mortal for all of time. There’s a good chance that becoming a guardian angel is not exactly the same as forging a pact with a demon, though: it probably doesn’t give a human the ability to control the angel, unlike a pact with a demon. They’re both significant in different ways and require a profound amount of trust between human and supernatural entity.

The game does acknowledge how carelessly Mammon dived headfirst into a pact with us just to acquire Goldie by giving you the opportunity to bring that up as one of the dialogue choices. I am glad they’re reminding us what a pact exactly entails, though.

Cerberus

Cerberus hasn’t been tamed at this point in time, and he’s presumably guarding the Underworld, but I’d like a little elaboration on what the Underworld exactly is in this cosmology? Now that Reapers have been introduced through Thirteen’s introduction, it sounds like something that should be in her domain, but perhaps it just functions differently than it does in mythology.

Barbatos and Solomon

The most relevant revelation in this lesson is that we learn that the Barbatos in this timeline does not like Solomon. This is in sharp contrast to the present timeline, wherein it’s clear that Barbatos trusts and admires Solomon enough to lend him his grimoire -- which, admittedly, is a fake... but he’s at least comfortable with others thinking they’re that close.

So why the shift? I have a decent idea: as I’ve highlighted in this ask, Solomon was given the Ring of Wisdom and the ring came with the power to control demons. Solomon himself admits he went a little crazy with it, and in later lessons we find out just how crazy these exploits supposedly were. There’s yet to be an explicit mention of him abusing Barbatos’s power, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had -- and he did it much more recently at this point in time. My guess is he got the ring, built his demon army and waged war, and in this timeline hasn’t patched things up with Barbatos yet. And if he forced Barbatos to use his powers against his King, well...

While his character profile insists he’s an ally, Nightbringer Solomon is genuinely shady and we’re finally touching on his past -- unlike his OG counterpart, who other people allude to being shady and demonic but he doesn’t really do many morally gray things. I’m all for it, honestly. Flawed characters are fun.

That’s pretty much all I have for this lesson. I think it would be fun if actually failing a quiz or test would have actual consequences, but Solmare just doesn’t have the tech to go that far, unfortunately.

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lady-of-the-spirit · 1 year ago

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OC Masterlist

Mostly made to be helpful for those taking part in the OC Creator Bingo event, but if you’re one of my followers I hope you like this little guide to my OCs! These aren’t all of them, but these are the ones I talk about the most, and some I don’t talk about but would like to.

General OCs tag: my OCs

Creations and writing tags: I'm making stuff, I'm writing stuff

Whump blog where I sometimes post oc stuff: @spirit-whump

Cut off is here because this is a long post and nobody wants to scroll past it.

Joan

Full name: Ioana, goes by Joan (no surname)

Fandom: The Old Guard (2020)

Faceclaim: Isidora Goreshter

Their main tags: Joan, Joan vibes

Fics/blurbs available: the Joan ‘verse (AO3), her post of origin, Nile dreams of her, home after a bad day, her relationship with the rest of the guard, Joan learns she’s immortal

Character bio/premise: Joan (born Ioana) died in an earthquake in the 1400s, in what would one day be Romania, and somehow did not stay dead. The Old Guard (then made up of Andy, Joe, Nicky and Quynh) were there in the aftermath, trying to help, and because Joan met them before they could dream of each other, she doesn’t know they’re immortal like her, and they don’t know she’s a new immortal. Some 400 years later, Joan stumbles upon a newly immortal Booker and despite befriending each other for a brief time, once again they part ways without realizing what the other is.

After roughly 600 years of immortality, Joan is living a comfortable but lonely life, still unaware there are others like her. At least, until she dreams about Nile getting slashed through the throat. The dreams refuse to go away, and Joan manages to track down the young woman - and in the process, finds out not only is there another immortal like her, there’s a whole group of them, and all of them know each other. In an AU where Booker didn’t betray the team, most of her story is just her and the guard getting to know each other, trying to figure out how to make this new dynamic work, and Joan finding a place after centuries of not having anyone.

Joan is aroace.

Hestia

Full name: Hestia

Fandom: Thor movies, MCU

Faceclaim: Freida Pinto

Their tags: Hestia, Hestia and Thor (for shipping purposes)

Fics/blurbs available: first post explaining her concept, Light, however sorry they are (AO3), I thought you were mine, Hestia and her relationship with the Odinson boys, “what if” episode au, Loki series meets What If AU Hestia, what Hestia thinks of the avengers, Hestia is kidnapped

Character bio/premise: Based on the goddess from Greek mythology, Hestia is the eldest daughter and princess of Olympus, another alien civilization like Asgard. The eldest daughter, but not the ruler, Hestia has taken care of the kingdom in her own way - tending to the fires and protecting the home and family - ever since they overthrew their tyrannical and abusive father centuries ago and created a kingdom of peace and prosperity - with the exception of their rivalry with Asgard. In an attempt to avoid war between their kingdoms, Odin and Zeus arrange a marriage between Thor and Hestia. While both of them range from reluctant but willing to outright reluctant, they are married and Hestia comes to live on Asgard. She is quiet and some would say "meek" or "weak", and no one expects her to get along with the brash and bold Prince Thor. Surprisingly, her calm demeanor and hidden strength makes it easy to form a friendship with him.

While dealing with culture clashes and coming to understand her new home and her new family, Hestia and Thor become friends, and then (slowly for Hestia, very quickly for Thor) fall in love. They remain happily married for centuries - up until the events of Thor 1 take place, followed by the rest of the MCU, making their lives a whole lot more complicated.

Hestia is asexual biromantic.

Marianne

Full name: Marianne Ouellet (maiden name/preferred name), Marianne Schulman (legal name)

Fandom: X-Men prequels (First Class, Days of Future Past, Apocalypse) (Dark Phoenix does not exist on this blog)

Faceclaim: Clemence Poesy

Their tags: Marianne, Marianne Ouellet

Fics/blurbs available: Ethereal (AO3), a little fic about her and her husband, full character profile, text post edits, a little ‘cover’ I made for the fic

Character bio/premise: Born in 1931 in Montreal, moving to the States when she was 19, a single mother to a happy 12-year-old, widow of five years, and owner of a local used bookstore for 12 years, Marianne lives a hectic but normal life. She keeps her store running, her son safe and happy, and is happy to "mom friend" the kids around the neighbourhood. It's a normal existence - up until Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr basically break into her store, tell her they know she has telekinesis, and ask her to save the world with them and other mutants like her.

While she initially refuses their offer, she later changes her mind, needing to keep her son safe. When she joins the other mutants, she finds herself joining a community she didn't know she needed, becoming the unofficial Team Mom of the group, and facing emotional issues she had pushed down for years.

Marianne is bisexual.

Kris

Full name: Kristina Maria Stark

Fandom: Iron Man movies, MCU (canon divergent after Avengers)

Faceclaim: Olivia Cooke (young Olivia Cooke - I've had her so long, I've seen her faceclaim age with her)

Their tags: Kris, Kris Stark, scarlet girlfriends (for shipping purposes)

Fics/blurbs available: an ask explaining her character, “You saved my life” wandaxkris fic, short krisxwanda fic, “what if” episode au, what Kris thinks of the avengers, Kris vs Alicent Hightower venn diagram

Character bio/premise: As the beloved daughter of Tony Stark and heiress to Stark Industries, Kris basically has everything she could ever want, and she loves it. Until she and her dad get kidnapped by terrorists and are trapped in a cave for three months. After returning home, forever changed by the experience, her dad wants to go out and make sure Stark Industry weapons are wiped from the planet, while Kris just wants to forget it ever happened and return to her normal life. It takes being terrorized by her honourary grandfather and her father creating a supersuit and becoming a public superhero to realize that their lives are never getting back to normal. It takes her father nearly dying less than a year later for Kris to take up the mantle as another superhero, pushing her life as far from normal as it gets.

Kris is a lesbian and dating Wanda.

Rose

Full name: Rose, codename Venom

Fandom: Power Rangers: Jungle Fury

Faceclaim: Brittany O’Grady

Their tags: Rose

Fics/blurbs available: a whole post I made about her premise, her choice of animal, her having a breakdown, what happens in Ghost of a Chance (AO3)

Character bio/premise: 10,000 years ago, Rose - abandoned as a child, then abused and tormented by her Pai Zhuq master - chooses to join the evil Dai Shi, wanting revenge on humanity for the pain she’s suffered. She’s made into a double agent, spying on the humans for Dai Shi. It goes well, until the war is won by the Pai Zhuq and Dai Shi is sealed away. To keep her safe, Dai Shi turns Rose to stone, and she waits for 10,000 years before he returns and tasks her with being a double agent once more, this time spying on the power rangers who threaten his attempts to take over the world.

It’s supposed to be an easy mission. She sews discord in the group, avoids getting too close, and reports back to her Lord with information to destroy the rangers. But slowly, the safety and kindness of her fake life starts to feel more welcoming than the cruelty she had accepted before, and Rose suddenly finds herself at a crossroads - to choose revenge and a life she’s been told is the only one she deserves, or her new friends and a life she thinks she actually deserves.

Ryoko

Full name: Ryoko

Fandom: Original content

Faceclaim: no official one yet, but either Li Bingbing or Fan Bingbing would be good, as both have roles with white hair (The Forbidden Kingdom and The White Haired Witch of Lunar Kingdom respectively)

Their tags: Ryoko, Ryoko and Ten, Ten and Ryoko (relationship tags)

Fics/blurbs available: human vs god appearance, commissioned art!, Forgotten, Never Stopped, All Trussed Up, Traveling Companion, Ryoko and Ten being silly, Ryoko’s healing abilities, Ryoko’s immortality, kidnapped (humor), NFWMB, Ryoko needs to sleep, Ten is insecure and Ryoko’s a good friend

Character bio/premise: Ryoko was a human woman once - about 10,000 years ago. When she discovered how to achieve immortality, though, she chased after it and became the first god in her world - the god of war, fire, death and the sun. Many others followed in her footsteps, and for thousands of years, they all ruled the world as a pantheon, with her as their ruler, the Queen of the Heavens. Flashfoward to present day, millennia later, and she’s the only god left in the world after she killed the rest of them. She wanders the world, alone as she has been for centuries now. At least, until she meets Ten, who wants to be a god and knows she’s the only one who can help him achieve his goal. Although she knows it didn’t end well last time, she finally agrees to help Ten, thinking that by helping them, she’ll be able to find a way to end her own immortality. The two of them set out on an adventure and despite her best efforts, she becomes too close to Ten, despite knowing she’s using them for her own selfish purpose.

Ten

Full name: Ten (no last name as of yet)

Fandom: Original content

Faceclaim: None yet, if you have any suggestions let me know!

Their tags: Ten, Ryoko and Ten,Ten and Ryoko (relationship tags)

Fics/blurbs available: Traveling companion, premise, goals and some background of their world, Never Stopped, All Trussed Up, grudges, piccrew appearance, Ten is a history nerd and Ryoko is unhelpful, Ryoko and Ten being silly, Ten is insecure and Ryoko’s a good friend

Character bio/premise: Uses he/they pronouns. Raised in a small farming town, and the eldest living child of five, Ten was always told by his parents - and everyone else outside of his siblings - he would never amount to anything, that he was a waste of space. Desperate to prove everyone wrong, they moved to the city to find work and support their family while also trying to find ways to achieve more, to learn and study their passion - history and legends of the world - and become more than what they are. Eventually, he crosses paths with The legendary icon of their world, the only living god - Ryoko, queen of the heavens. Knowing this is the only way they can prove everyone wrong, they convince her to show them how to achieve godhood, and to their surprise, she agrees. They set out on a grand journey together, and despite all the terrifying legends of her and her own personality, Ten finds himself growing closer to the woman, unaware of the secrets she’s hiding from him.

Ten is nb and uses he/they pronouns.

Cara

Full name: Cara Anderson (chosen name), Carina Alvarez (legal name)

Fandom: MCU (canon divergent after Avengers)

Faceclaim: Odette Annable

Their tags: Cara, Cara Anderson, my sister’s ocs

Fics/blurbs available: None

Character bio/premise: Raised by HYDRA to be an assassin, Cara never knew anything but abuse and cruelty, except for the love of her twin, Quinn. That all ended when she realized just how fucked up HYDRA was and made plans to run away with Quinn. Those plans came to an end when SHIELD attacked their HYDRA facilities and Quinn died in the attack. Grieving, but ready to leave HYDRA behind, Cara agrees to join SHIELD (not knowing HYDRA and SHIELD are one and the same) and become an agent for them after being given a second chance by Clint Barton, as well as Natasha Romanoff, Nick Fury, and Maria Ross (who would eventually become her best friend). Years go by and she’s definitely one of their best agents, although she still has a lot of unprocessed trauma and anger. Things get a little better when she finds a family with the Avengers. Things get a lot better when she meets Sam Wilson, whose good heart and entire character is a bright spot in her stormy life.

Cara is bisexual.

Valerie

Full name: Valerie Jenkins

Fandom: MCU (canon divergent after Avengers)

Faceclaim: Amanda Seyfried

Their tags: Valerie, my sister’s ocs

Fics/blurbs available: None

Character bio/premise: Valerie is just a kid when her parents die and she’s sent to live with her aunt. She’s still just a kid when her aunt is in a car accident and ends up in a coma and Valerie is sent to live in foster care, before running away and living on the streets. She’s still just a kid when she discovers she’s a mutant with the ability to control metal. For years she lives as a drifter, but eventually she’s able to get off the streets and make ends meet as a waitress in NYC - up until aliens attack. Using her powers to fight, she’s discovered by the Avengers and SHIELD and recruited, and ends up living in the Avengers tower with the rest of them. After years of not having anyone, she’s finally found herself a space space and a family - a family that gets even bigger when the Maximoff twins show up and she finds herself growing closer to Pietro.

#my ocs #i'm making stuff #i'm saying stuff #i'm writing stuff #joan #hestia #marianne #kris #rose #ryoko #ten #cara #valerie #kris stark #marianne ouellet #cara anderson #didn't realize how many ocs don't have last names until this lmao

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