#that he got the innermost part of the Realms

[stealingyourbones]

Submitted Prompts #130

*hands over a particularly shiny pebble I found on the side of the road and polished, in the style of a magpie gifting ther favorite human the One Pebble That is The Most Special, along with a sea urchin shell I found on the beach* I had a sudden idea!!!!

So, I've been reading some fics of Danny being married to the Core of the Realms (we need more of those, btw, they're really good).

And a student thought hit me:

As a halfa, Danny can easily go between dimensions, much more easily than the Ghosts. And the Core can't leave the Realms at all.

So they hitch a ride on their husband's shadow whenever he goes out into the world of the Living, so they can remain in the Realms but send a part of their consciousness with him. Naturally, this means a lot of movie dates, and walks along the woods and all kinds of dates between them (the position might've been kinda forced on them both at first "for the sake of Balance", but as they came to know each other better, the relationship developed, and it didn't just blossom. It grew exponentially, exploding like fireworks, until the most common gossip in the Castle was how much the King and the Core loved each other, and how they spent most of the time either curled up with each other, or giggling like teenagers in love).

One such date nights was a viewing of The Princess and The Frog movie.

Now, with his voice having grow deeper as adulthood caught up to him, and having shot up like beanstalks, plus having a spouse that looked mostly like shadows and smoke, of course Danny would go around quoting Dr Facilier's lines, and the Core acted out the part of the Shadow.

It was all so fun, neither could help it.

Too bad the resident Bats didn't think it so fun to watch some lanky fucker stroll the streets of Gotham at night, quoting lines from a very recognizable movie villain, while seemingly projecting his own shadow into existence, then opening a neon green portal and strolling through it while holding his shadow's arm and flirting with it.

Constantine almost had 10 different heart attacks that night when Batman called him and Zatanna to ask about the Shadow Man, who just so happened to be the goddamn King of the Infinite Realms. The shadow was new, there was nothing about such entities in their files. Although, when asked the next day, Captain Marvel seemed to sweat as the gods in my head seemed to all die a second time, this time of fright, as they realized the Core of the Realms had latched onto a new King and seemed to be in love with the guy, where before they'd despised Pariah Dark and refused his presence anywhere near them, thus throwing the Realms into a slow decline.

Well, at least it appeared THAT situation had gotten fixed at some point while they were on Earth with their son Billy.

[hanayumi]

𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝

— bonten! sano manjirou x fem!reader x sanzu haruchiyo

part 1.5 of brittle to the bone || prev.

a prelude to your time with the man masquerading himself as your ‘guardian’.

wc. 3.5k

tags breathplay, toxic/unhealthy relationship dynamics, implied drug abuse, yandere undertones, haruchiyo pov, sfw

notes i really have no words except take this *drops the fic in your hands*

snapshot ;

It’s alien. Intangible. And as if bringing to light something that’d been kicking at the edges of his consciousness for a long long time, hinting at something his thought process was but a little slower to grasp, all at once Haurchiyo's brain flashes with the lingering memories of that same intimacy.

That tacit understanding. That silent obedience. Is it love that hides behind the way Mikey touches you when he thinks no one is looking — gently, like a lover, so different from the way he always does? At times commanding, as if bending you to his will (though he doubts you had any in the first place) — is it the way that, despite everything, you still come at his beck and call, ready to slide your arms around him at a moment’s notice even as your legs are trembling like they’re about to give out?

As far as Haruchiyo is concerned, Mikey has always been like this. Always stoic, always tip-toeing between the inconspicuous realm of boredom and apathy, and so little did he reveal his innermost thoughts. No one could ever dissect what was going on in his boss’ mind. He was unreadable to the point where it became his own trademark, with hands capable of far more violence than any of his subordinates combined. Perhaps in that invincible, impenetrable nature does Haruchiyo find solidarity: there is no one like Sano Manjirou.

But if there’s one thing that Haruchiyo has in common with his boss, it’s that it’s a losing battle to keep them listening during meetings. Frankly, if he were to be speaking facts, no one aside from Takeomi and Kokonoi bothers to pay attention. Who could fucking care less about those bottom-feeders plundering chunks outta their cargo supplies? This building, its occupants— the arteries. Drugs, inhalants— the blood. He could, theoretically (speaking in Kokonoi’s breath), put everything into its place, restore this apparently ‘delicate balance’, within a moment's notice with that gleaming steak knife of his. If only, if only they’d let him.

Money, women, drugs. That’s nice and all, but that’s not really why he joined Bonten. (Well, he might choke on that last one.) No, never, Haruchiyo isn’t infamously known as the ‘Mad Dog’ for no reason. He is a cruel, mad dog. He revels in the thrilling chase and the dizzying catch — the first strike, the feel of warm, real blood soaking his talons, and the sick wicked delight of toying with the limits of human endurance — and, guess what? He got none of that within the frigid meeting room.

What did he get instead?

Instead he got a mystery. One that eats away at him like maggots from the inside with every painstaking day. And the more he sees you, the more he is forced to remember this fact, forced to regurgitate it like a cow chewing on blades of rubber grass. Day after day after day after fucking day.

Because you were always there, your presence accompanying them more times than he can count (to serve entertainment on the side, he thought at first, except you did more than that. You distracted him. You kept his eyes on you. And you somehow chewed your doll-faced, mouselike way into his boss’ heart).

And the thought persists long after each and every meeting, sinks paranoia under his skin like pinpricks and suckerpunches to his gut; like the arctic chill circulating in the meeting room, penetrating through layers of clothing made for this sole purpose (because, he supposes, Mikey is so thick-skinned that even air-conditioning toils to have an effect on him).

He bided his time. He waited, patiently, just as his King filed out order after order — kill them, torture them for information, find out more about them, kill them…

But the order never came. It was never ‘kill her’.

(But what’s worse? That his King is taking an awfully long time to get rid of his plaything, or that said plaything can’t help but intrude his thoughts at every given moment? Desecrate his plane of thought like you had more power than everyone gave you credit for? Feeding into his horrible addiction and piercing his brain with images of herself — whimpering and snivelling, legs so shaky and fragile like a newborn foal, damp bottom lashes glued to her skin, and if he squinted he could see fresh tears brimming at the edges, eyes filming over like liquid glass — stop.)

He sighs and tosses a tiny, familiar oval-shaped object down his throat — one to last him the rest of the hour and half the bottle for the rest of the day — swallowing it dry with an exaggerated gulp. One after another, it’s almost like candy at this point. If he tries hard enough he’ll remember a time when he found salvation beyond this drug-induced haze, but at some point he stopped caring. Stopped reading the labels and recommended dosages. (Why bother? Why bother looking through the haze when he has a job to do? Especially, especially one that involves getting the answers he so desires.)

Fingernails tap a broken rhythm on the glass of a clattering pill bottle, slow and steady, like the eerie thrum of a premonition. A finely-pressed suit, dyed a deep violet with gold embroidery branching out in elegant water lilies — worn with pride by a gentleman who has known nothing but to stain it with savage killing. His elbow is propped up against the wall, and his emerald-toned gaze teeters back and forth between the other two occupants of the room. Tiredly, boorishly.

He’s tired of waiting.

Actually, more than that — he’s tired of so many things grating on his thinly-stretched patience. (He is not a man known for his patience.)

Today’s the big day. Mikey hasn’t said a word since Haruchiyo was called up to the penthouse. The top level has always been sacred — reserved for him and only him — but it’s no place that Haruchiyo hasn’t been in once or twice. Sometimes he simply sought orders in person or felt like snooping around. There was never anything of interest, though (well, nothing except you).

He fastens his eyes on you warily, keeping a reasonable distance and not making a move in fear of upsetting Mikey. Staring too much or showing remotely any interest in you always seemed a surefire way to set him off. It’s hard to believe that Takeomi was able to convince him to let you stay behind. Especially with himself, of all people. (Not that Haruchiyo thinks he’ll do a bad job. Far from that, actually; if Mikey told him to sit and stay he would do just that even if hail the size of a planet came hurtling down to earth.) He’s surprised, but he knows it isn’t like Mikey not to think ahead… perhaps, his boss has finally realised that you don’t need to be babysat like a fucking toddler.

But even toddlers have a mind of their own. Haruchiyo frowns when he looks at you, all jittery and silent, albeit for a different reason than him. You're waiting obediently by the door as Mikey throws his coat over his shoulders. He grabs his gun, his cigarettes (since when did he smoke?), his cellphone… Everything he does is agonisingly slow — every action deliberately calculated as if his brain was rewired to take the slowest route possible to the sleek black car waiting in the lobby. There must be something compelling his boss to stay, because no sooner when his hand touches the doorknob does he hesitate as it slips back down to his side.

Not again.

Haruchiyo’s chest heaves, puffs out by an inch as he gets ready to breathe a huge, exaggerated sigh — he sighs a lot these days — only for it to catch in his throat.

Mikey is hugging you.

Something does not click in him, does not register. Like a severed connection, Haruchiyo is made acutely aware that an anomaly has caused his systems to lock up and sizzle into haywire at the scene before him. Something is wrong here.

An indescribable sentimentality comes through in the way Mikey’s arms lock around you like a cage. Engulfing, territorial, as if he were trying to swallow you whole; and if Haruchiyo could see his face right now he is sure his boss would be drilling holes into his skull just for staring. Stop looking. He’s gonna get mad. But the amazement — as amusing as it is that Haruchiyo can even feel such an emotion — overpowers his obedience, when not a second later your arms come to creep around Mikey’s waist. Melding yourself into his chest, almost instinctively, as if it’d shield you from the harshness of what he’s become. Haruchiyo is almost convinced, from the compliance bleeding through your actions, that you’ve been doing this for a long time.

And, try as he might, he can’t tear his eyes away from the quiver in your bottom lip as you meet his single bewildered gaze from across the room, almost looking as if you wanted him to save you — looking like a tender lamb collected whole within the jaws of a lion. A fraction of a second, a near imperceptible intensity of emotion, and then you’re sliding your face into the side of Mikey’s neck, the subdued tremor of your shoulders the only evidence of your breathing. Everything looks of the frozen stillness of death; a snapshot taken in a graveyard, the headstone masquerading as Greek statues of lovers holding each other in death — in eternity, in life, being unable to part.

Mikey silently digs his palm into the back of your head, the small action nudging you deeper into his embrace as if the proximity wasn’t enough, never enough, and Haruchiyo feels his mouth going desert dry. Nothing makes sense. You, your presence, Mikey’s attachment to you — nothing fits together, it’s all a fucking mystery, just like the mismatched pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. (And now, it is as if he’s the toddler sitting hunched over children’s toys manufactured wrong, the miniature pieces fundamentally made to jut and protest against each other.)

He can’t understand.

It’s alien. Intangible. And as if bringing to light something that’d been kicking at the edges of his consciousness for a long long time, hinting at something his thought process was but a little slower to grasp, all at once Haruchiyo's brain flashes with lingering memories of that same intimacy.

That tacit understanding. That silent obedience. Is it love that hides behind the way Mikey touches you when he thinks no one is looking — gently, like a lover, so different from the way he always does? At times commanding, as if bending you to his will (though he doubts you had any in the first place) — is it the way that, despite everything, you still come at his beck and call, ready to slide your arms around him at a moment’s notice even as your legs are trembling like they’re about to give out?

Haruchiyo is stiff as a frozen lake, but his gut stirs with unease (why?), and for a second he wonders when exactly he became so observant to anyone besides himself and his King.

His eyes settle arbitrarily on exposed skin; it’s your neck. The same neck that Mikey now has his hand wrapped around, with the same palm that was but a split second ago caressing the back of your head. His bony fingers press deep into the skin, not hard enough to form bruises, but hard enough to aggravate the existing ones and pry a mousy noise out of you.

(How does it taste, to have the king of Bonten cradling you in his arms as if the world could collapse on you at any second? And in the next minute, have his hand around your neck, the pressure just short of suffocating you, tightening ever so slowly?)

Not that good, he supposes, because from the sounds you’re making (the choked whimpers) he’s sure that you’re terrified.

“Be good.”

Mikey’s voice drags through the silence like a thin dagger. Unsympathetic. Cold.

Haruchiyo’s eyes dart away from your neck to stare at his own hand — for some reason, it’s shaking. His breath is coming out in shallow patterns, but no one except himself seems to notice. It’s almost as if he were invisible, a ghost, like you could break free of Mikey’s grip and run straight past him.

The grip on your neck tightens taut. Haruchiyo imagines the veins that pulsate beneath Mikey’s skin, the blood, the resistance. An arm twists like a leash around your waist; you panic. You mouth half his name in confusion, but it’s difficult to speak when your airways are restricted, the second half teetering into a whimper as if your voice burnt off your tongue. You put your little hands over his, sliding underneath the gaps of his fingers in an attempt to loosen them. Pathetic, choked squeals gradually increase in volume, and Haruchiyo starts to feel his own breathing stutter, and he has to start holding his breath for fear of making his presence known.

Is this it? Is this where it ends? He has his hand on your neck, Haruchiyo swallows. You’re fragile. You will die. You will snap.

But before that— before the unthinkable happens— Mikey will decide to stop. He always does. That’s right, he always does.

The palm recoils, drops, retreats back into Mikey’s shadow, allowing you enough leeway to suck oxygen down your throat. He watches on wordlessly as you still clasp your hands feebly around his for balance, amidst jagged breathing, amidst wobbling legs.

It’s then that Haruchiyo sees them. Sees the grisly purplish swirls and bite marks decorating your neck like a collar, disappearing into the thin sheet of your nightdress where he knows there must be more. Deep violet mirroring the silk-like fabric of his clothing, replicated and imprinted onto once unmarred skin; looking at you makes him think of flowers trampled underfoot. Callously bestowed, deliberate bruises that Mikey lets you parade around in, worn like a brand. A mark of ownership. Oh, my—is that what this is? A show? A display of his King’s indisputable, iron-clad authority? Haruchiyo stifles a shudder.

Mockingly similar to reaching for a kiss, Mikey leans in, his lips hovering over the shell of your ear, whispering something too soft for Haruchiyo to hear that has you freezing on the spot. Your panting breaths almost halt momentarily. He waits for your reply, a tiny little nod, after which your eyes fly downcast, mouth still parted slightly with any possible parting words left unsaid… and Haruchiyo discovers that he is just the least bit disappointed. Empathy has never been his strong suit — never had to use it, let alone learn it. He wishes he could break free of this trance and ask you: how does it feel, to be the only woman that Mikey could treat with such gentleness?

The only one.

His jaw stiffens. Somehow, the bottle in his hands has grown slick with his sweat. Somehow, his adrenaline levels have spiked from watching his King put his hands around your throat.

Mikey’s dark shadow retreats from your face when he pulls away. Beige, watered-down sunlight filters in despite the drawn blinds and bounces off the walls, flicking a certain light grey sheen over his hair when he takes a few steps. He brushes past you without a second look, drifting like the afterimage of a phantom, before he pauses. His head cocks back just at the mouth of the entryway, empty stare boring right into Haruchiyo.

(So he had noticed his presence.)

That abyssal black — that bottomless pit of emptiness. Bare-bones sin that Mikey is on his way to commit. This is what you come close to every day. This stare. All Haruchiyo can do in the face of this radiating bloodlust is incline his head in a nod. And his King is quick to fade from view, having faintly acknowledged his second-in-command. The thudding of his steps — thump, thump — reverberate as if he were treading in a black swamp.

You don’t move, don’t break free from your position where he left you, and Haruchiyo doesn’t make a move either, as if the both of you suffered under the after-effects of the same spiritual possession. Until you hear the sound of the elevator dinging amidst pin-drop silence. Slowly, as if thawing out every inch of your ball-jointed body, your figure comes back to life, all in front of his eyes: ruby-scented lifeblood flowing back into the steep crevices of your fingers, your arms, your legs, your head which turns just a sliver of a fraction —

Only to turn stiff as ice when you’re met with him in your way.

Haruchiyo can plainly see how your natural instinct to bolt like a foal kicks in, dousing your body in a bonfire’s blaze — as if a switch was flipped in your head, detaching you from the perfect doll with a thousand-mile stare. An olive gaze burns into the glittering fear reflected in your wide eyes, the widest he has ever seen them to date. He takes a step forward. Then another.

They’re even more enticing up close, he realises. Pretty.

Are they as watery as they look?

If he reaches out he thinks he can juuust about graze the spinning globes in your eye sockets. And, fully intending to test this theory, his fingertips start to raise, almost like marionette strings tied to his instinct — inching and inching, closer and closer. But true to your own instinct you recoil in abject fear, backtracking only for your back to hit against the wall, your little half-squeak sending him hurtling back to reality and blinking twice and… oh. Well. Would you just look at that?

A curious smile upturns his lips; he’s got you cornered without trying. No fun, you’re no fun. He toys with the imagination of what you see with those doe eyes so big with terror — eyes that played witness to so many impromptu executions within the pristine conference room, eyes that bored into his sleep where he could only dream of tarnishing a beauty so unknown to him. But now you’re alone. It’s just you, him, and the sun straining through opaque blinds.

What do you see? A monster? A killer?

He can’t blame you.

“I’m sorry, I-I just, um,” you stammer, your throat bobbing as you swallow — a toddler’s first words? You’re on the floor now, soundlessly yearning to escape from him as far as you can because that look in his eyes cannot mean anything good. Your lips that parted just enough to let those few words slip into the tense silence remain agape, as if you were on the verge of pleading for him to spare your life. Your fingers twist in the material of your sleep shirt, clinging to the cotton, slowly retreating into yourself like a small mouse.

A giddy excitement shoots through his veins. He straightens his back and pops his joints, making a show of stretching the muscles that’ve gone stiff from waiting, the action accompanying a shuddery chuckle. Ah. There’s something innate about you that rouses sympathy from others. If he decides to scare you a little… he doubts it’ll take much work before you’re on your knees shaking.

The scarce luminescence in the room tumbles and shifts like the different stages of limbo. He continues to hold your gaze, admiring how your pupils reflect the light. A hand extends to you and you flinch fiercely, immediately, much to his amusement. “Hey hey hey, what’s wrong? No need to be afraid,” he coos, crouching down to your height, studying your shivering form. “It’s just me, little bunny. I don’t believe I’ve properly introduced myself.”

He feels the effects of the drug start to kick in, the sluggish blurring of his conscience, but more than that he feels the beginning of an urge to press his thumb into your eye socket. “It’s really such a shame, seeing how long we’ve known each other.”

It’s going to be fun— it’s going to be delightful, he decides. A delightful little side-project while his king is off setting things straight. By the time Mikey returns, he wants to have his fill of satisfaction. Of contentment. Life has been so damn stale as of late; nothing about tormenting glitzy prostitutes rings the bell of happiness in him anymore. Mikey will probably kill me, he turns over this thought in his mind, frowning, and decides he wants to live just a little longer — so, sadly, anything fatal will have to be put aside for now.

Just for good measure, just to show respect to the wicked plan solidifying in his head, he reaches for your hand (because it’s not like you’ll willingly offer it to him, right?). He curls the tiny little thing into his own palm, beginning to feel your pulse through a thin muscle in your hands, the rapid thudthudthuds pulsating like a tiny animal fighting to preserve its life. A single word surfaces in his mind: soft. Your hands are soft, tender, just like fondling translucent silk. Huh.

A little life in his hands.

“Bonten’s number two. Sanzu Haruchiyo. You’re in good hands.”

Oh, but truthfully, in everything he does, Haruchiyo tends to overdo it. If not by a teaspoon, then by an enormous handful — an avalanche, even.

next

[helshades]

Near the middle of the 14th century (2011. It was 2011.) the young Thor fandom was debating whether the original script and deleted scenes from the first film could be regarded as canon, or not; famously, they didn't change the tone of the final film, or very little, only provided insight in some of the characters' actions: they were cut for runtime reasons more than to shift the narrative into something different. All, but one: in it, Frigga herself would officially entrust Loki with the throne whilst the King was thrall of the Odinsleep and his eldest son was banished, if temporarily, on Earth. 'The line of succession falls to you... My King.'

The first Thor movie has his imperfections but Marvel, as was often the case in those simpler, more innocent times, had a stroke of genius in hiring thespian and director Kenneth Branagh, renown for his fondness for Shakespeare and his daring love of grandeur. The actors worked together to make sense of the relationships and rapports between the characters; devising their innermost thoughts, their past, their current motivation, their shared experiences. Rene Russo and Tom Hiddleston decided on a nervous hand gesture that Loki would share with his mother, as her favourite son. The filmmakers agreed on the fact that the princes of Asgard had a happy childhood, but that Loki, the more cerebral one, grew into a complicated man with a taste for duplicity that got darker as he grew embittered at his situation as a youngest son, but that he loved his family no less.

This is even commented on in the first film by Fandral, who notes that 'Loki has always been one for mischief, but this [bringing Giants into Asgard] is something else entirely.' The first film chronicles Loki's rapid descent into madness because of the unfortunate conjunction of a very dangerous plan that failed—in part due to Loki being unaware of how vulnerable Odin truly was in his older days, as the King and Queen had hidden this from their sons—and the traumatic revelation of his true birth. To put it quite simply, Loki went too far and committed high treason just before learning that he was the biological child of his father's sworn enemy, and he was utterly overwhelmed by it all—and without either the wisdom of his father or the comradery of his brother to help him deal with it, and then his mother, seeking of course to reassure him (and not knowing what role her son played in the dramatic events), entrusted him with the fate of the entire planet and eight other Realms.

Thor is about the mirrored fall and rise of Asgard's two princes, transparently inspired by Shakespearean tragedies. It left Loki an outcast who may or mayn't find his way back home. Indeed, it was made abundantly clear in later films that this was what he wanted: Loki is a true prince of Asgard, a warrior of the realm, a defender of the throne, at heart. But he is also one tormented by insecurities, suffering for his need to find some sun for himself, as Frigga said to Thor in the sequel. Frigga who still saw the prince within the villain, as Thor grieved his brother and brother-in-arm, their lost childhood and innocence, feeling deep Loki's betrayal.

It is fundamental to realise that Loki never did try to seize the throne before the events of the first film, that indeed ruling only became an obsession after he precipitated himself into exile and convinced himself that the only way he could matter would be to carve a regal place for himself in Yggdrasil as a lord of men. Feeling powerless and off-balance, he sought power and stability. Thor and Loki loved and supported each other for their entire lives, even though they teased each other and played tricks on each other, as brothers. The deleted 'Throg' scene makes absolutely no sense for the character of Loki as he was put to film. It is a cheap attempt at grabbing mindless laughs from an audience largely disinterested in the original narrative, either because it is a new audience or because it is a segment of the fandom that lives in bad fanfiction.

It should be said again and again: the character from the televised series is not the character from the films. Not because he was plucked from his timeline right after the events of Avengers but because he doesn't speak, think, act or react like the character did in the films. He is being written by people who had no part in developing the original character for the screen; the Disney+ shows are only marginally canonical, and at the moment even the Cinematic Universe itself is narratively disjointed, full to the brim of continuity errors, largely directionless. As far as the Thor franchise is concerned, the fourth film was completely senseless and removed any meaning to all that happened before it, likely to bury the entire franchise with it...

So, no, I wouldn't readily consider the televised events canonical in the slightest.

@alwida10, @katbelleinthedark if you're passing by, I know what you like ;)

okay, so after seeing the full scene from the Blu-ray I actually hate it a lot less, because it seems pretty clear that Loki and Sylvie both had the same thought of playing the situation like they were still enemies, but then Ravonna showed up and suddenly Sylvie was slammed back into the mindset of that little girl getting her life ripped away from her. She wasn't genuinely upset until then.

on the other hand, I fucking hate the Frog Thor coronation scene with every fiber of my being capable of being devoted to things that don't actually matter, to the point that I would have had a hard time not ragequitting the entire show right then and there if they'd included it in the final cut and I'm having a hard time forgiving the fact that it was filmed, let alone released into the world as a deleted scene, and I really don't think even my usual obsessive desire to reconcile all parts of canon and most parts of almost-canon is going to help here

especially if any part of fandom starts acting like this is Just Canon Now as part of Thor and Loki's backstory. can't do it, y'all, this is a bridge too far for me, I will comprehensively lose my shit

(the whole point of what happened in the first Thor film is that Loki's actions came out of nowhere!! like the entire point!! I mean we can argue for a million years if the power-hungry bullshit and the blatant usurping and the peacocking demonstrate either a huge retconning or misrepresentation of his characterization in that film--they do, so of course that's my biggest objection, but it's also not the reason the scene makes no sense and cannot possibly be canon, and the reason is, nobody else in the movie would behave the same way if Loki had already made a credible (ridiculous, but still credible) and extremely public attempt to get rid of Thor and take the throne. Sif and the Warriors would be openly distrustful of him from the start instead of mostly dismissive and only later moving to distrust (can you imagine any of them letting Loki protect their backs or Thor's during the fight on Jotunheim if that stupid coronation scene really happened? really?), Odin would probably suspect Loki's involvement in the real interrupted coronation right away and punish him as well as Thor, and Thor in particular wouldn't keep blindly trusting him, which is why Loki is able to lie to him so well and why it hurts him so much to learn the truth.)

(I'll certainly accept as canon Loki turning Thor into a frog at some point and Thor smacking the shit out of him in revenge. I don't give a shit about that part. I mean, I already accepted half of that as canon because Loki wrote it into his stupid play in Ragnarok, so I figured it must have actually happened.)

[cosmica-galaxy]

Soldier!Reader x Yan!Madcom - Fall into Nevada 2

By popular request, here is part 2 of Soldier!Reader’s adventure in Nevada. Soldier!Reader AU was made by @yansoftie Summary: You’ve been in Nevada for 4 days and decided to go exploring. Little did you know, that a rival faction is looking for you. Warnings: Just some cussing. Some characters will probably be OOC since I’m not used to writing them, but I tried my best. I still don’t have a grasp on the timelines and such, so apologies for that in advance! Word Count: 7,758 Featuring: Sheriff, Jebediah, and Auditor. (Sorry tricky fans, this part was long enough as it is without him. He has to wait his turn. Lmao) Part 1

Story under the cut!

Four days have passed since your arrival here…at least…you think it has been four days. This world…’Nevada’...doesn’t really have a sun or a moon to help tell the time. It was just the same old endless blood red sky for hours on end. Which really messed with your sense of time and your internal clock. From what you can recall, you managed to get at least 5 rounds of sleep, resting for seemingly hours on end, and you ate at least two of your MRE food packs for dinner in the past few hours while you were awake. So it HAD to have been at least four days since you arrived. Thankfully, your MRE food packs helped you recover the energy you spent wandering the desert and bleeding out from your injury, let alone replace the energy you spent running for your life before you fell into Nevada. In desperate times like this, they were lifesavers. The MRE’s gave your littler companions the time they needed to get you some ‘food’ as they called it. Despite your general wariness to the mystery meat that made up most of their foodstuffs, beggars can’t be choosers in a world like this. At least you knew they weren’t made from human meat…well…you at least hoped they weren’t. Despite everything, you decided to upkeep your routine from your days in your original world. As they say, old habits die hard. You wake up, do your stretches, apply your external medicine, check your equipment, and secure the premises while the others slowly rouse from inside the building. It wasn’t like they were making you sleep outside. But you were just simply too big for the innermost rooms of the warehouse. So your ‘room’ eventually became the docking area of the warehouse with the large bay doors serving as your…well…entrance into the building. You spent most of your time here. Watching, listening, cleaning your weapons, sorting your stuff…just doing useless things to pass the time. The only time you got to spend time with your smaller companions was when they came home from missions or tasks they had to do in the realm of Nexus City, where Hank found you. Especially since they usually come back at what Doc calls ‘dusk’. Despite the sky not changing. During that time, you were making your first MRE dinner when their truck pulled up into the warehouse’s crumbling parking lot. You were happily preparing your food outside under the overhang and next to the bay entrance to the makeshift base that your new crew called their temporary home. The smell was familiar and comforting to you, having had these meals on plenty of rough nights out in the field of battle. It also probably had a powerful aroma since it pulled in Deimos from around the warehouse like a magnet. You didn’t mind sharing some of your rations that you had for dinner with Deimos, which was a large premade pack of chicken egg noodles with vegetables that was served with chips and a protein bar. To which Deimos happily took some bites out of.

Since you fell into Nevada, you’ve been kinda stressed and not really in the mood to eat too much. So allowing Deimos to eat some of your food was fine with you, but not really to Doc. As he quickly chides Deimos for digging into your food, despite you explaining that he had your permission to eat some of it. Despite the little argument quickly unfolding between them, the more time you spent with them the more attached you grew to your shorter allies. Seeing as Sanford also came around the corner with Hank trailing behind him when the commotion picked up. Watching Deimos argue with Doc and feeling Hank take a seat close to your side as Sanford tries to hold back Deimos was enough to get a few chuckles out of you. It made you miss your battalion in a way… But you know what happened to them… So you shake your head to dismiss the depressing thoughts as you continue to eat despite not really having a deep appetite, per the Doc’s orders. Only nodding along and doing as you're told. But that was hours ago. Currently, you are just sitting outside the warehouse, absolutely bored out of your mind. You had just finished writing down the events from the last four days into your war journal, closing it with a sigh of relief as your mental notes were jotted down. It was a comforting activity. You never know when one entry will be your last. 

So you always took great care in writing your memories down. Leaving something behind that explains how you felt during the war and what were your personal thoughts during these events brought some peace of mind to soldiers like yourself. But now, with the book stored away and your hands idle…you were itching to do something. Anything. Deimos and Sanford were out and Hank was on a solo mission…and Doc was inside working on paperwork. Leaving you sitting outside doing nothing. To which, you just got to a point where you couldn’t stand it anymore. Finally, you rise up from the ground and lightly dust yourself off and step out from behind the building. Looking off towards the horizon that had little lights that flickered about in the distance. You were…admittedly curious about the settlement. The city wasn’t too far away. With the building that your clan was holed up in just along the outskirts of this wasteland and the wound on your leg significantly improved with rest and Doc’s medicine, you felt strong enough to go scouting. Maybe you could find something to bring back to the base that was of use to your team? Food? Supplies? Maybe you’ll find some scrap metal or equipment that your companions could use? You just needed to do something to contribute…hopefully Doc wouldn’t mind if you just explored the city nearby just a little bit more? You were big enough to handle yourself…you just needed to keep in mind where you were and which way led the way back to base. So, with a hastily written note, you leave it in the bay area for your companions to find so they knew where you were, as Doc and Deimos were still trying to find a way to merge a Comm to your helmet or your clothes. With a quick check over your pack for your exterior medical plaster, a couple of MRE’s, your canteen, and your journal to make a map in, you felt you were ready to go. You had a few other tools that could’ve been useful, but there seems to be some…interference going on with them. For example, you had a compass. But it was spinning around in constant circles, rendering it useless. You didn’t know why, but any other equipment that demonstrated the same issues or malfunctions were placed into your living space and left behind. You were just scouting, so you’ll be back in a little bit. So, you sling on your pack, grab your gun, supply tote, and your ammo magazine. Then, you begin to head out towards the city in the distance. Your leg is now working much better but it was still not completely healthy. Despite this, you walk straighter and taller towards your goal in the distance. Eager to explore the settlement with a much more relaxed pace. – That’s where you find yourself now, back amidst the crumbling buildings, cracked pavement, and the familiar gray-colored cityscape. It was pretty much the same as before. Except you could see the cracks in the pavement where you walked though with Hank previously. Also…there was a lot more police-esque tape surrounding the area…like…a LOT more. Some places were cut off from being accessed. Your footsteps and the damage you caused must’ve alerted the local police force…or whatever the equivalent was that guarded this city. How curious. Upon closer inspection, the words on the tape seem to say something along the lines of “‘A.A.H.W investigation area’, ‘Do NOT cross’, ‘Auditor has closed this area for inspection’, and ‘Sheriff at work!’” and various color-coded investigation tapes were strewn about. Auditor…that name was familiar. Same with the A.A.H.W. What did Hank say that stood for? ‘Army Against Hank Wimbleton’ or something like that? From what your allies tell you, these were the bad guys in this world… well as far as you know. You merely stared at the tape before losing further interest and stepping over the barrier with ease. As they were meant for grunt heights, not human heights. While you were interested in the scene that was laid out before you, you weren’t entirely ignorant to possible danger. You were a soldier after all. Lots of deadly signs tend to get ignored when your general demands certain maneuvers to be performed. So you continue into the city, an air of caution about you as you explore the buildings and looking for things that your companions could find useful. The further into the city you went, the more familiar it was to you. Along with how much more common the tape that blocked off the area became. You take a moment to draw your location on the makeshift map in your journal before you pause. There was something echoing off the sides of the buildings. Unlike the first round of sounds you heard…this sounded less like gunshots and more like…voices? You look up from your journal and stare at the empty city around you. Taking in the sights of the area and jotting down where you came from before packing it back into your side pocket. Then, you move on ahead. You follow the sounds as quietly as you could. Taking notice of the environment shaking with every step you took. Practically tiptoeing, you ease closer and closer to the source of the sounds. That’s when you came to a very familiar street. The same street that Hank was found on. You pause as you hear a lot more of the sounds much more clearly, hiding behind a corner as the sounds echo from behind the building. With a careful placement of your body to the wall, you lean your helmet-covered eyes around the corner to get a look. Wow. That was a LOT of little guys. There were plenty of large trucks stationed about the area, all bearing some form of acronym on the side. Some read A.A.H.W and some read MERC. The area is currently bustling with activity as multiple grunts could be seen holding guns and other weapons as some in lab coats explored the area. They seem to be interested in those large footprints that you left there days ago. With lots of them measured out and some bearing large orange cones in the centers. Most of the grunts looked the same, but out of them all, you could see some prominent figures that stood out amongst the crowds of little creatures. Namely the one in the center that was PRACTICALLY ON FUCKING FIRE. Their form stood over the other two as it flickered with black and crimson flames. They seemed to be conversing with two other beings, presumably about the damage you did to the streets. One of the creatures was a grunt with a certain…cowboy-esque style to them. Wearing a ranger hat, an outfit fit for someone that would’ve shown up in the ‘Lone Ranger’ show, and even sporting a sheriff-like badge. The second creature also looked like a grunt, but strangely…more human. He sported eyes that were covered with shades, a mouth, long black hair, a beard, a white lab coat, and a halo-like object that hovered over his head. His getup also seemed…kinda familiar…? Hmm. You watch from your place around the corner with interest, straining your ears to listen in on their conversion. Despite the hustle and bustle of the excessive amount of grunts about the area, you could hear the group of strangers conversing loudly with one another. With a bit of effort, you focused on what they were talking about. “Well…we searched this ‘ere place over and over again, chief. I ain’t found nothin’ on this so-called ‘freakishly large giant’ that yer men claimed to have seen. Not a sightin’. Not a body. Not even a fresh track, other than the ones that led outside the city limits and that old blood trail.” The cowboy-looking grunt is heard letting out a gripe. The fire being merely lets out a motion similar to a frustrated grunt before looking over to the other being. “And you?” It hisses. “I’ve found no signs of any greater impurity. I did my routes and found nothing of interest. Just like the sheriff says, it’s like this is the only place that was impacted by this…mystery entity.” The one with the halo explains. Huh. So the other creature was actually a sheriff? Yikes…you already got the law enforcement involved and it has only been 96 hours (you think?). You continue to listen in. The shadowy being merely shakes his head from side to side. “I should’ve just blown those three insolent agents away. This endeavor has become a waste of my time and a waste of resources and effort. Even if whatever made these tracks was still around, we would’ve seen something from it by now.” The fire demon bemoans, one of his disembodied hands pinching the bridge of his non-existent nose. “Even with the blood samples we managed to scrape up, not one data entry in any of our systems matched the blood that was found. Which is impossible. That was the only reason I found interest in searching this area in the first place.” Ah. So they HAVE been looking for you…must’ve been a good thing that you stuck around the temporary base over the last few days. Hopefully they will get tired and leave the area soon…and especially now that you're too close to these strangers for your personal comfort. You decide that this was the best time to part ways and sneak away from the search party. Oh. But only if it was that easy. You see, your clumsy ass just happens to bump into a streetlight while turning around to leave. Sending the large lamppost clattering to the ground with such a sudden wave of noise that you visibly grit your teeth tightly together and metaphorically kick yourself violently. You could hear the movements of all the smaller creatures grind to a halt from behind your hiding place. So silent that you could practically feel all of their (primarily) non-existent eyes staring at the broken lamppost that now laid in the street behind you. You stay still for as long as you could, until the murmurs of the grunts kicked up again. Small and quiet, but you could also hear the three unique creatures talking about investigating it. You took a moment to bite your lip and listen to an argument break out between them. You couldn’t see who was talking, but you had a hunch at who was talking to who. “Whaddya mean ya want ME to go check it out!? What if it’s that thing?!” “I doubt it’s the beast. The concrete around here is damaged and unkempt, this is the ABANDONED sector after all, it probably just fell over. So go check it out.” “Are ya trying to get me killed, Auditor?!” “Just GO!!” “Err…yes, boss.” Oh fuck. Did the Sheriff say Auditor?! That fire demon was the Auditor??! 

That logically means that all of those grunts in his presence are his allies. Which means that they are all enemies of the faction you took the side of. Suddenly, you felt as if you had walked deep within enemy territory. You’re brought back to the now as you hear tiny footsteps slowly approaching the street corner you were hiding behind. Oh fuck you running. One of them was coming over. Slowly but surely, one was coming over. You merely freeze in place and try to sink yourself as close to the wall of the building as possible. Just vainly hoping that you don’t get caught out like this. So much for just a scouting mission. Why didn’t you just stay at the warehouse like a good guardian? Why did you decide to come out this early? Why were you so poor at making decisions?? You pressed yourself against the wall with baited breath. Hoping that this little dude would just…simply NOT see you. A few steps closer and closer and closer…then the footsteps suddenly fall silent. You take a moment to move your head slightly towards the direction of the street, then you look down towards the corner of the building from under the rim of your protective helmet… And find that ‘Sheriff’ creature looking up at you, shaking like a leaf. In other words, he sees you and he looks like he’s about to shit his pants. 

Worst of all, he sees you. He knows you're there. Then, everything almost seems to slow down as you see him suddenly try to sprint away from the corner. On pure soldier instinct, you reach down and snatch him up with both your hands in an attempt to prevent him from alerting his allies of your presence. Wrapping them around the Sheriff's little body and keeping a firm grip on his torso as you pull him back around the corner and firmly press his back against your chest. Oh fuck–why did you do that??! This is looks so fucking bad–oh shit, now he’s screaming–!! “OH MY FUCKING GOD, JEBUS! JEBUS! THE FUCKING BEAST HAS GOT ME HOGTIED!” The ‘Sheriff’ is heard screaming out, as the units on the other side of the wall suddenly begin to scramble. “It’s got Sheriff!!” You heard the one bearing the halo yell out from behind the corner. You don’t need to wait a second longer. You book it the FUCK out of there. Still carrying your screaming charge–I mean…hostage, as you run away from the group. You continue to sprint. Jumping leaps and bounding over fences and obstacles, even despite the pain radiating from your wounded leg from the strain, with your charge still screaming bloody murder in your grasp. You could feel your heart thundering loudly in your chest as you tried to create as much distance from the rival group as possible. Unwanted hostage in tow. You just need to find a safe place to drop it off and disappear back into the city. They get him unharmed and you get away. Easy, right? Wishful thinking. You let out a loud grunt of pain as something bright slashes into your arm through your clothes. It begins to bleed as you blink in surprise. What the fuck was that?? You saw nothing pass in front of you that you could’ve cut yourself on...then suddenly, you see another slash miss you just by a few inches as you bound over another fence. Only then did you realize that those slashes were coming from behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you were about to let out a couple of terrified screams yourself as the dude with the halo was FLYING AFTER YOU. No wings, no nothing. He was just straight up defying gravity. Just hovering after you menacingly. You were more than 3 times his size, but that blade he was wielding was fucking sharp! Plus, he looked pissed and you really didn’t want to tangle with this guy. “Unhand Sheriff or feel my holy wrath!!” He warns loudly, his eyes glinting with red lights of ill intent, his mouth twisted in a snarl. Something about his gaze just straight up let you know that he was NOT messing around. You didn’t want to piss any of these guys off! You just wanted to watch what they were doing! Now you had a screaming hostage in your hands and a hostile flying grunt in hot pursuit. You jump another fence and finally a guardrail as you come to a much open area of the city…one you didn’t exactly recognize. Great. You’re being chased AND you're lost. You continue to run away from the flying menace down a large empty 5 lane highway before skidding to a halt and abruptly turning around. Stopping in your tracks as the Halo Bearer catches up to you effortlessly. You take a moment to catch your breath, breathing heavily and loudly from the exertion. There was no use in running, he would just keep catching up to you. Now simply hovering in place as you both stare one another down. You with your shadowed widened eyes and his black shades glinting with the promise of malice. “Put. Him. Down.” The halo-wearer bears his teeth, his sword shining with a sharp glint as you look at him for a solid moment. What could you possibly do at this moment in time? You couldn’t outrun him, with the Sheriff screaming so loudly you couldn’t hide, and eventually he would lose patience and gut you where you stood. There was literally only one thing you really could do. You complied. Much to his unspoken surprise. The trembling sheriff is lowered to the ground and promptly released from your hold, allowing the wannabe cowboy to scuttle behind the bearded grunt for protection. You hold your hands up, keeping them in sight as the Sheriff watches you from behind the much more aggressive being, who watches you equally as wary. You merely stand in place with your hands in the air. Showing surrender. Some tense few minutes pass by. Then much to your surprise, the halo-wearer speaks to you. “I am…surprised…that you willingly complied with my demand.” The bearded being speaks, his eyes squinting at you from behind his shades. “That’s not usually how things go.” He admits. “I’m not seeking a fight.” You explain, to which both beings almost seem to jump out of their skins at your reply. “Sorry for my rash actions, I merely didn’t want to get found out is all. Grabbing your friend was not intended to be taken as a kidnapping…I just…panicked.” Both seemed…flabbergasted. Sharing a look towards one another before focusing back on the large creature that towered over them both with ease. “You’re intelligent?” Halo-man asks you, to which you nod. “Yes. I am.” You say in a civil manner, still standing with your hands raised. The two share another glance before they quietly whisper among themselves. Your large ears pick up on what they're saying, however. So you merely just stand there and listen in. ‘Mags aren’t suppos’ ta speak in full sentences like that…right, Jeb?’ ‘Certainly. Magnification has side effects, one being verbal limitation and mental instability. But this…’mag’...is perfectly sanely sound and has a rather deep vocabulary and verbal linguistics unlike others I have ever seen. Even its appearance has changed…’ ‘I…suppos’ we outta ask it some things about that?’ ‘I would enjoy inquiring about its resistance to the corruption of magnification and its creation…but I haven’t seen a mag of this size anywhere else in Nevada…perhaps it’s new?’ ‘If that’s the case, then we shoulda’ got boss ta come with us…’ ‘That’s true. I kinda…left him behind to pursue this mag and you. He’ll find his way over shortly. I’m sure of it.’ The two flick you a glance and you just continue to stand there and pretend you didn’t hear a thing. The bearded one, you think you remember him being called ‘Jeb’ by the Sheriff, clears his throat and finally puts his sword away. To which you lower your hands to your sides in response. He eyes you with a more curious stare than a threatening one now, his mind seemingly boggling with questions behind those glasses of his. “If you don’t mind…may we ask some questions? I’m curious about you.” Jeb inquires, to which you willingly nod in response. “First and foremost. What are you??” Jeb tilts his head, his eyes still carrying that curious glint. “I’m a human. Just a human.” You reply. Both seem confused, as if that was the first time they ever heard the word ‘human’ before. “A hoo-what now? A human? Never heard of ‘em.” You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the striking similarities to your first meeting with Hank, much to the Sheriff's befuddlement. “Neither have I…” Jeb states, a finger is placed upon his chin as he thinks. “So you’re not a mag?” You shake your head. “No. I’m not a ‘mag’, whatever that is.” “It’s short for ‘magnification’. Only beings that undergo the procedure can reach your size…or close to your size. You’re probably the biggest creature I have ever seen…and for it to be naturally occurring?? It’s unheard of.” Jeb briefly explains. “Well…we’re kind of a rarity around here, I guess. I get lots of similar reactions to yours. Awe, fear, screams of terror, surprise, curiosity…lots of grunts don’t know what a human is. So I don’t really take offense.” You say casually. “Well then, if it’s not magnification, care to explain ta us how ya got that big?? Yer big enough to wrap one hand around mah midsection!” Sheriff asks, finally feeling bold enough to come out from behind Jeb. You shrug in response. “I was just born this way. I’m not sure why everything is so small, but as far as I’m concerned, I’ve always been this big.” You lamely reply. The two of them share another glance before looking back at you. “Well…care to let us know how you were born, then? Were you created in a lab? Were you an experimental clone?” Jeb questions, his curiosity about you only deepening. Again, you could only shrug. “The typical way, I guess? You know…male meets female and they have young together…” Both of the grunts in front of you give you a look of uncertainty. “Uh…the ancient dance? Rolling in the hay? Snu Snu?” More confused looks. “Just…was born from another human, to put it simply.” It didn’t help their confusion, but they seem to at least have some understanding of what you meant. “Well…not a typical answer that I’m familiar with. Then, how were you raised here in Nevada?” Jeb presses on. “Oh. I’m not from here.” Even more stumped looks were gained from the pair in front of you. “What??” The Sheriff says dumbly as you sigh in response. “Just…look, it’s been a long week. In brief, I was a soldier. While I was fighting in a war for my country, in another dimension I guess, I got ambushed by some enemies and took a tumble down a hill. The next thing that I know…I wake up here. In ‘Nevada’. Lost, confused, and alone.” You hurriedly explain, to which the two seem to at least gain an idea of what you mean. “Well, that explains that fancy getup ya got there.” Sheriff whistles, pointing at your helmet, jacket, and even the gilded gun that was slung over your back. You merely nod in approval of his compliment. Then suddenly, just as Jeb was beginning to ask another question, a dark mass formed on the ground in front of them both. Making Sheriff shriek slightly and Jeb’s eyes widen for a moment before they go slack again. You merely watch in a state of silent awe as a familiar shadowy form emerges from the ground before taking shape into the being that was known as the Auditor. His back was facing towards you as his crimson gaze was focused towards the two grunts. The two grunts stare at him as he finally solidifies with his flames erupting from his form as he glances between the two with a slight turn of his head. “You two.” He breaks the silence, gathering their undivided attention. “What happened? Where did the ‘beast’ go?” The Auditor, oblivious to the large presence behind him, merely looks at the both of them. His gaze was questioning and steely, especially on the Sheriff. Who was last seen abducted by a large hand from the last time he saw him. Both the Sheriff and Jeb merely pointed their disembodied hands towards you and the Auditor took a moment to process the gesture before turning around. His bright red eyes widened consistently as you stood over him. Your eyes peering down at him from under the rim of your helmet, giving an intimidating aura to your presence. 

His eyes narrow in response as you both stare at one another for what felt like forever. “I take it that you're this ‘Auditor’ I keep hearing about.” You comment, shattering the silence that quickly settled between you both like fragile glass. The being in question seems surprised that you could speak. Just like Jeb and Sheriff. Then, the Auditor nods after a brief pause. “And you must be the ‘beast’ those 3 idiots in my ranks keep talking about nonstop.” He states, looking at your form with a rather critical eye. “I assure you, I’m not a beast. I’m quite civil.” You jest lightly, gesturing to the Sheriff. “A prime example being your ally safely standing next to you and not screaming his lungs out till he dies.” “Hey! I was not screamin!” Everyone, including the Auditor, turns to look at the Sheriff with a disapproving look. The Sheriff flinches under your collective gazes. “Okay. Maybe I screamed a lil bit…” The Auditor merely looks back at the towering being that stood over him with a curious gaze, ignoring the two grunts standing behind him. His flames licking about back and forth as he eyes up your form. You merely stand there and look at him as well. “I must say…your form is quite impressive.” The Auditor compliments. “Your size, ability to communicate, and sane behavior all packaged into one creature…just what are you?” He asks. “A human. A normal human. Not a giant one or a small one…just…an average one.” You explain, to which the Auditor's eyes squint in suspicion before it vanishes just as quickly as it came. “I see.” He says flatly. Then, you see the grunt with the halo step up. “Sir, if I may catch you up to speed on our previous conversations for the sake of time...” Jeb says from behind, to which the Auditor turns to him. They both have a brief conversation under their breaths, which you listened to but only realized that Jeb was relaying what you already told them to their…superior, you surmised. So you patiently wait as he briefs his boss on what you were just talking about. One he’s finished, Jeb takes a step back as the Auditor processes the information. “An otherworldly soldier with natural magnification…how interesting.” The Auditor speaks, his gaze refocused on your form as you stand there idly. Then in a manner similar to Jeb, the shadowy being begins to hover without the use of wings or any technology. Easily coming up to your height and beginning a small hovering circle around yourself as he observes you. You also observe him in return. Your eyes and head tilting to watch him study you as he loops around your stationary form. Watching his flames trail behind his form as he completes a full circle. “I admit.” He says suddenly. “I’m very intrigued.” He hums as he notices something on your outfit that catches his attention. He hovers close to the infantry patch that was stitched into your military-grade jacket, looking at it with a curious gaze. You watch him from the corner of your eyes as he studies the symbol for a moment. “You seem to be adorned with another factions' symbol…but hearing about how you ‘fell’ into Nevada, logically speaking, those factions are now non-existent.” The Auditor continues. You internally dread what is coming. “Are you part of any current factions?” The Auditor asks, his smaller form hovering in front of yourself. You think for a moment about saying ‘yes’, but the more you ponder it, the more it seems like a bad idea. You were already accepted into SQ…and SQ HATES the Auditor. That would make you an enemy in their eyes…and you really didn’t want to piss off the shadow demon guy either. It was in your best interest to avoid the conflict. At least for now. “Not yet…I only came to Nevada a few days ago. I still don’t have an idea of what’s going on around here. All I know is that there’s lots of conflict going on…and I would prefer to learn more while I’m neutral before I pick a side.” You say in a partial truth. The Auditor hums in thought. “Admittedly, Nevada is in this state because of one bothersome grunt. Hank J Wimbleton.” That statement alone made your eyes widen. Hank…did all of this?? The Auditor continues. “He and his followers killed the sun, started up the madness, and plunged Nevada into ruin. I seek to bring unity to Nevada once more, but he always interferes.” The Auditor hisses. “He has also harmed many innocent lives and killed numerous grunts in various violent ways. From ripping their heads off, to cutting them in half, various forms of gun violence, and crushing civilians under various objects and vehicles. He kills indiscriminately. There is no greater sinner than Hank.” Jeb speaks up from below, his presence nearly forgotten. “He killed off nearly everythin’ in our little town too! Then he came afta me to kill me too!” The Sheriff speaks up as well, hands on his hips. Well…now you were conflicted. Hank was apparently incredibly violent, destroyed his own world, and was a wanted criminal that murders in masse and kills others seemingly randomly. The carnage from your first day here in Nevada came to mind… Hank did all that? And you were in the same faction as him…. Man, what did you get yourself into? But he helped you…didn’t he? He didn’t have to save your life…but he did. However, what is one life saved compared to thousands slaughtered? You were far from innocent yourself, I mean…you were a soldier. It was your job to kill off people on the opposite side of the battlefield. Regardless of backgrounds, appearances, or if they had families waiting for them to come back home… Hank and you weren’t too different. You didn’t kill civilians…but you captured their settlements in war. You didn’t murder numerous people…but the bodies of the soldiers you killed would argue that. You didn’t start up something that drove people mad…but war always comes with a price. You could only swallow that bitter pill. You mentally shake off the lingering internal conflict. You need to focus on the task at hand right now. Now…you had conflicting information. The members of SQ said that the Auditor was more of a dictatorship than a ‘unity’. That he merely wants control and suppression, which is why most members of SQ deserted his cause. But now the Audtior says that Hank is a mass murderer and responsible for all that is wrong with Nevada. With your first encounter with Hank withstanding all doubts. Both parties have at least a few people backing up their claims…and your morals are currently being conflicted. Who was telling the truth? “That’s horrible.” You say automatically with no amount of genuine shock in your voice. “Indeed, it is. Which is why I started the Agency Against Hank Wimbleton. The A.A.H.W for short. Hank needs to be stopped. If you think his actions are horrible…why not join us in our efforts to stop him?” Ah. There it is. The recruitment offer. Just as Hank saw fit to include you into their ranks…the Auditor seems interested in doing the same. You’re starting to feel more like an asset as time goes on. I mean…if your general met up with a neutral powerful giant that could be persuaded to fight for your side and country, they would probably do the same thing. Can you blame them? “I…I’m unsure. I’ve never met this ‘Hank’ person. Even now, I still don’t know what is going on around here. I’m sorry, I’m just too confused to pick a side right now. So…I’ll think about your offer. I just need some time to acclimate to Nevada first.” A perfectly neutral response. The Auditor seems disappointed, but is satisfied with the fact that he wasn’t outright rejected. Before anything else occurred, you really needed to break away from these three and flee back to the outskirts before the others came looking for you and exposed you in your lie. “Unfortunately, I have to get moving. I’ve got other business to attend to. It was nice meeting you all, though.” You speak up, sticking your hands in your pockets as the Auditor hovers away and goes back to his two allies waiting on the ground. “Likewise.” Jeb agrees. “Ya could’ve done a better job on yer first impression.” Sheriff snarks, crossing his arms as he stares you down. “Y..Yeah. Sorry about that whole…snatching you up and running halfway across the district. Hope there aren’t any lingering hard feelings about the way I man-handled you.” The Sheriff merely huffs as you give him a sheepish grin before focusing your attention on the Auditor. “I’ll think about your offer. For now, I must leave. You’ll find me again…I’m sure of it.” You say. The Auditor merely nods in response as you turn to leave. You wave to them in farewell as you jump off the large overpass that the abandoned 5-lane highway was stationed on, landing on the street and giving it a spiderweb worth of cracks before beginning a jog towards an unset destination. Leaving the three of them to watch your retreating form disappear up on the overpass. They watch on until you vanish from sight around some buildings and the vibrations from your footfalls fade away. The three stand in silence for a moment. “It’s rare to find a creature with manners still in Nevada. Let alone one that isn’t constantly keen on violence or fighting. I only wished they stayed longer, I had so many questions to ask them.” Jeb pipes up, his gaze traveling over to the Auditor. “What do you think?” “I think they would make a wonderful asset to my agency.” The Auditor says in a haughty manner. “To say that I’m disappointed that they didn’t join immediately in an understatement.” “Well…the critter did say that we would meet again…so maybe next time, boss.” Sheriff inserts, tapping his foot in a nervous manner. “Obviously.” The Auditor rolls his non-existent eyes as he hums. “Seeing such a perfect soldier out in the wilds of Nevada…one capable of intelligence and killing…I need to have it.” The Auditor growls. “B-But what if it doesn’t side with us willingly??” Sheriff calls out, flinching at the glare the Auditor gives him. “Who needs something to join willingly? I would rather be slaughtered by that stupid clown than let another agency or faction lay claim to that soldier. Imagine this. If we acquire it, we get a new asset. A unique one. Now, imagine if we could clone it. I would have the strongest army in all of Nevada! An army strong enough to finally terminate that damn Hank!!” The Auditor's eyes creased up in a fashion that demonstrates that he was smiling, despite having no mouth. The pseudo-grin makes his two companions grow nervous as he continues. “I’m merely giving them the illusion of having a choice. They’ll become part of my agency, willingly or not.” Then, he turns away from the two standing next to him, looking at the area the human disappeared at. The three stand in silence. “Hey. Did any of ya happ’n to get the critters’ name?” – You let out a sigh of relief as the familiar building that housed your SQ companions came back into sight. After wandering lost amongst the abandoned section of Nevada City, it felt like hours until you finally found your way back to the familiar outskirts of the cityscape. Thankfully, your endeavors weren’t completely in vain. You found more information about the world you were stuck in, who the Auditor was and what they looked like, and who was allied with the Auditor. Not only that, you even managed to luck out and found some supplies in some buildings you happened to pass by while you wandered around lost. Some medical equipment from an abandoned hospital, a couple of packs of ammunition found in an abandoned storage unit, and some still fresh canned food found in an abandoned bakery. Which were far too small for you to get any nourishment out of, but perfect enough for your group members to eat. All of it was stuffed securely into your pack as you jog back to the base. Making sure you were alone and not followed by any threats along the way. On the way back, your mind was still reeling from your encounter with the rival group members, especially what they said about Hank. You were still struggling with who to believe in…but internally, you wanted to side with Hank. You don’t really know why. But…he was kinda like a mini-you, in a way. Similar, but different. Even if he was a mass murder, he still helped you. Hopefully he didn’t just see you as an asset to further his destruction. In no time at all, you made your way back to the base and opened the bay doors around the back effortlessly. Then your eyes widened when you saw the 4 of your allies there…piled up on one another and partially bloodied and bruised. All of them seemingly frozen in a comical freeze-frame. You arch your brow in confusion at the scene before you. Hank had Sanford in a stranglehold, Sanford had his arms tightly wrapped around Deimos’s midsection, Deimos was laying on top of Doc and biting his coat, and Doc was on the bottom looking rather winded from the weights that were on top of him. You blink as they all stare back at you owlishly, as if they were all caught doing something they shouldn’t be…which would be apparently fighting one another. “Uh…what are all of you doing?” You inquire, bending down to slip into the warehouse bay area. Deimos hurriedly spits out Doc’s coat as he smiles at you with his sharp teeth. “You’re back!” He says excitedly, wiggling in place. Then, the rest of them begin to scramble about to get off of one another. Some pushing, others shoving, but eventually they were all back on their own feet. “Yes. I left a note to let you know that I went out scouting–” “YOU were supposed to stay here and rest like I told you!” Doc cuts you off, brushing his outfit off while snapping at you and crossing his arms in visible disapproval. “You had no comm on you! What if you ran into trouble out in the field and needed our aid?! You were supposed to wait until me and Deimos set you up with a communication device before heading out into Nevada!” Doc continues to discipline you. You could only silently sit down on your rump and take the scolding from your superior. Which probably looked hilarious from an outside perspective. Seeing such a tiny creature scolding such a large one. “Yeah! We were worried sick! We were just about to go out looking for you!” Deimos chimes in. Then, Sanford clears his throat. “Actually, you got into a fight with Doc about letting them out of his sight before it escalated into you jumping him and me trying to get you off of him which wound up getting us all into a fight…and why did you start strangling me, Hank?? I was trying to help Doc!” “I didn’t need a reason.” Hank states, to which he gets a glare of disapproval from Sanford. You could only let out a sigh. “Sorry guys. I just…got a little bit bored and wanted to contribute to you all in some way or another. So I went out looking for supplies in the nearby settlement. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I just wanted to help.” You explain to your smaller charges. Doc could only shake his head from side to side. “Did you at least find anything?” Doc sighs out in defeat. You eagerly nod. “I did!” You smile as you sling your pack off of your back and begin to sort through what you found. The medical supplies, ammunition, and canned goods were laid out in front of you as you grin in a sense of pride. “Just some general stuff, but it’s beneficial!” Doc seemed surprised, but nodded in agreement. “Anything helps.” He states before giving you a stern stare from behind his goggles. “But don’t leave again until you have a comm applied to your person. Understand?” Doc warns. You nodded in agreement. Soon, you all settle down and begin to unwind after a long day of missions and stress. The others eventually began to perform their ‘end of the day’ routines while you slipped back outside for your second MRE dinner of the night. This time, it was beef stroganoff. You eat the pack and just like before, Deimos happily eats with you while Hank sits in close proximity. You all share stories of your past missions to pass the time and soon enough, it was what the Nevadeans deem as ‘nighttime’. The group, with the stubborn refusal of Doc, begin to head off to bed. Leaving you alone in the bay area to finish writing a new entry into your war journal. However, once you were writing it, you felt a familiar sting on your arm, reminding you that you had received a cut from Jeb on that same day. It was generally unnoticed by the rest of the group because it was just right under your clothes, primarily out of sight of the others. But it only served to remind you that your encounter with the rival faction DID occur. You feel a certain twinge stir in your gut as you think about what the future might hold now that the Auditor and his allies knew you existed. You could only hope for the best as you finish writing your entry and store your book before turning over and getting cozy on your supply pack. Your mind is still buzzing, even while you fell asleep to add another day to your time spent here in Nevada. You only completely relaxed when your mind finally gave into the clutches of sleep.

[haxorus-imp]

Au where reader is a very rich window black hat maneged to seduce and marry but instead of killing reader of like a month after the deal as he originally planned to do, (always does to everyone he married up until now lmao )he becomes obsessed with them.

At first he brushed it off with a different array of reasons, political connections, possible new clients, a place to go whenever his stupid subordinates pissed him of beyond reason, you name it, he was like an addicted, saying he could put a stop on this whenever he wanted, but guess what? He could not.

Because whenever he closed his eyes the only thing he would see where their lovely smiles gentle looks feel their warmth an touch, their heartbeat their voice a being completely opposite to his nature, a clusmy good two shoes

Bonus point is if his wife meets his subordinates accidentally

Hurrkhehe--*cough*--AS YOU WISH! -- Black Hat simply couldn't do it. He couldn't just shatter you and toss you into the dump like you were some piece of useless trash. He only agreed to wed for power, wealth, and stature. He didn't really expect to get...attached to such an elegant thing. Unlike his past "marriages", he didn't really think of you as expendable like them. He tried to end you a couple of times, but it was ridiculously hard to do so. He just...he just couldn't do it. He always said 'later' or 'not now' or any other excuse he could think up. But...he pretty soon came to realize that he actually did love you. Sentient wealthy window or not, you were his significant other. The most beautiful hovering eldritch window he had ever seen. Your elegant arches, glittering golden glass panes containing a private realm between your glass frames, bejeweled with rich ores and sparkling rocks...and not to mention the reflection of himself that appeared every time he drew near to your hovering form. You were astonishingly stunning. There were just so many windows of opportunities to keep you intact, why would he ever destroy you? He could finally communicate to the sentient window people. Take part in sentient window politics. Tap into an unsourced clientele of evil sentient objects. There were more benefits to keeping you whole then fracturing your beautiful shimmering panes. You have given him so much for so little. Even when he grew tired of his incompetent subordinates, you would open your latches and allow Black Hat a moment of freedom by welcoming him into your golden light. The realm between your panes was as bright and warm as sunlight. An endless void of golden waves that Black Hat stood upon with no effort on his part. A stark contrast from his endless darkness to the surrounding ethereal light. A voice that could only belong to the decoration that he called his lover called out to him from the realm within the glass between worlds. Like a delicate songbird, the voice would coo and sing at him. Black Hat would merely look in the direction that the voice called from and listened intently. The aura surrounding him that just screamed the presence that controlled and maintained the frame of the elegant eldritch mirror. His lover...his significant other. It was the window to your innermost soul. Something Black Hat would always enjoy the taste of. Even during your private wedding, he was elated to have tasted it then. The most memorable moment shared between him and this sentient object. When he's back in the 'real' world, Black Hat resumes his duties and finally, one faithful day, he decided to introduce you to his underlings. While Flug and 505 were certainly confused, Dementia couldn't help but let out a cry of agitation. "WHAT? YOU PICKED A FUCKING WINDOW OVER ME?!" Dementia cried helplessly as Black Hat gave her a look of displeasure while Flug and 505 continued to question their existence. -- WHAT? THIS ISN'T WHAT YOU WANTED? YOU GOT WHAT YOU ASKED FOR!

[littleeyesofpallas]

Okay, so.... going back over the wolfmen stuff in the final arc, Kubo talks about "beasts"/"animals" depending on what english translation you're looking at, but there's some specific terminology that gets glossed over.

[538.Standing On the Edge] [539.Prob-less, Progress] [556.The Wolfsbane] [558.狼の心臓]

The phrase [復讐の獣]: "Beast of Revenge," appears but only the once, and this uses the more conventional word for "Beast," [獣] Kemono. (This is also the one he uses when talking about Hollows in slightly strange terms that one time.) But otherwise he actually uses a different word for it:

chikushou[畜生]

(oh boy this got stupid long after all... cutting preview here for space...)

It's written with the kanji [畜]: "Livestock/Domestic animal" and [生]:"Life/Genuine/Birth." One common use of this is kind of what you'd expect, where it refers to someone as a "beast" or a "brute" with an implicit moral judgment to it. (And frankly this is also how [獣] is typically used in the nonliteral sense, but maybe with a slightly stronger undertone of violence to it.) This is also just really similar to how we use "Beast" or "Animal" as a kind of derogatory in English.

But this particular construction comes from its use in Buddhism where it actually refers very specifically to a human who has been (re)born, via the wheel of reincarnation, as an animal. And in fact the term [畜生道]:"The Beast Road" refers to the Buddhist concept of "The Animal Realm," which is part of [六道]"The Six Roads*" or "Six Realms":

*Yes, this is the same "Six Paths" referenced in Naruto. No, Kishimoto didn't put any actual Buddhist ideas behind it, because he's just boring like that.

The Realms of...

Deva - The divine figures of Buddhism, free of sin and consequently without desire, and at the highest levels without any physical form or interaction with the rest of the physical world at all.

Asura - Opposite the Deva they are similarly immensely powerful but consumed entirely by mortal passions in excess

Human - The world we live in where people are tempted away from the path toward enlighten by sin

Animals - Like the world we live in but spiritually set apart by lack of human intelligence

Preta/"Hungry Ghosts" - These are the tortured souls of the dead, they persist with the same kinds of desires that makes up Human, Animal, and Asura existences but are fated never to fulfill them

Naraka - And I've actually mentioned it in relation to Bleach before but these are what are often considered the Buddhist "Hell*" and this realm is itself divided into 2 sets, hot and cold, of 8 layers each where sinners serve penance for their sins in mortal life. Hitsugaya and Komamura's bankai each reference one of these.

Deva and Asura exist together in a realm of the formless, Humans and Animals in the realm of the physical, and the Hungry Ghosts and Naraka in the realm of desires.

Anyway, point being, the heaviest implications here being that the entire wolf clan aren't just arbitrarily cursed by some kind of magic spell, they're cursed by the nature of the universe and the wheel of reincarnation. The bad karma of their sins as humans caused them to be reborn into the world as animals, as subhumans, a new life they're meant to live in penance if they want to be reborn properly again.

And given the context of other Buddhist cosmological elements in Bleach, this is ostensibly what happens to souls like Shrieker after they've sinned as humans, been unable to be purified by a shinigami like normal Hollows, and then taken to hell.

It's a wild idea that Komamura was at some point a criminal, that he suffered through an entire other life in Hell, died there, got born into Soul Society(?) as a wolf faced dude, and then manifested his innermost truth through his zanpakutou only for it to be a giant monster from the hell he lived through previously. Initially it read like Komamura himself was the Wisdom King (another figure of Buddhist mythos) and his role was to punish criminals, but in the new context of the wolfman clan, the fact that his spirit reflects his time in hell suggests that his more core, fundamental personality trait is actually his penance itself. It's like a reflection of guilt; he has become his own jailer, administering punishment unto himself. If he had even been given an inner world for us to see, like Ichigo's, I wonder if it wouldn't be a recreation of Hell itself.

Also super interesting is how the old mandog doesn't care about "The World" being destroyed. It's weird because at this point it's not super clear what either of them mean when they talk about "the world." Komamura seems to be talking specifically about Soul Society and how they accept him despite his appearance, but the plot at large involving the Quincy started with the threat to the balance between living and spirit worlds. And as we know, Yhwach unseating the king of Soul Society does start to breakdown the division of worlds. So which one did the great elder care about? Not caring if Soul Society, as in the Shinigami, were killed and replaced? Or he literally didn't care if the entire structure of reality got rewritten?

Going back to the 6 Paths for a second, the Deva's status as beings without desires and in some cases without even physical form, seems to strongly point in the direction of the King of Soul Society himself; trapped unmoving in his crystal, seemingly unthinking or feeling. but despite their powerful status they are counted among the six paths of suffering because they are complacent in their realm of bliss and thus fail to progress onward toward full enlightenment. And the Hollows themselves aren't so dissimilar from the Asura, possessed of singular desires. They are said to envy the Devas as they are to Devas as Animals are to Humans.

There's a lot more to all this than I can rightly get into here, but it's interesting to know that Kubo came back to these influences after spending, quite frankly a very long time away from these themes by this point in the manga.

There's also the curious revisiting of the power and importance of Heart in Bleach. Giving it yet another role in things as part of this sacred rite. The heart is where the Hollow masks come from, it's where the zanpakutou come from, it's what Kaien believed tied people together, it's what Ulquiorra sought to understand, and now it holds the key to the wolf folk's powers...

As animals reincarnated from people and condemned for their human sins, the idea makes sense that by giving up the heart, and thus giving up the capacity for human desire, they are unshackled from the sin that ties them to their animal form. But of course they also can't exist without a heart for long so it's a death sentence. But curious that the elder gains longevity by consuming Komamura's heart.

In particular he tells Komamura to indulge in his base human sinful anger and bitterness and resentment and pain, which under the circumstances presumably funnels all those negative emotions back to the severed heart. So why does consuming this sin benefit the elder? By taking Komamura, and implicitly other wolf folk's sin unto himself, does the elder lengthen his sentence as an animal so that he has to wait longer to reincarnate? Is that what he wants? To stay an animal forever and not be reborn as a human? It's not something we'll ever really have answered, but it's a neat pocket of the universe left open to explore.

I think it's also worth noting that Komamura tried to differentiate revenge from duty, as he framed his need for power as a matter of fulfilling his life debt to Yamamoto. He is very noble and classically samurai-like in that way. yet in the heat of things in the end, he doesn't fight out of duty to debts owed, he fights out of pure personal gratification of vengeance. He doesn't fight because of propriety, he fights out of personal anger. And I feel like we didn't actually get to see enough of that play out, it's actually realy similar to how Ichigo's relationship with his inner hollow worked for most of the series.

The elder also calls Revenge the true form of the wolf clan. I don't even know where to dig into this, to be honest. There's a lot of history behind japan's indigenous wolf population, now extinct, and some of the spiritual relevance to them. but I don't know if that's being referenced at all here? Also there's the Shinsengumi, ever popular subject of the waning days of the samurai. They were a band of militarist extremists, fighting on behalf of the shogunate and against the efforts to restore the Emperor to power. They were in effect fanatical loyalists, and they were derogatorily nicknamed the Wolves of Mibu(referring to town that housed their head quarters) for their ferocity. In general there's a lot of historical drama and intrigue involving revenge in there...

another small detail but the torii gate, the shimenawa rope hanging from it, and the theme of stone liondog gaurdians are all distinctly Japanese and shinto, rather than Buddhist specific. I wonder if there was any intention to contrast the two or not, like if shinto animism would've been more egalitarian towards animal spirits, where as the buddhist's segregated realms and hierarchical cycles innately devalue them from the perspective of characters like the wolf clan.

Incidentally I was also really disappointed that for all the build up to it, and the rhetoric around the revenge, Komamura didn't even get to help in fighting Yhwach.

Anyway, I think that covers most of my thoughts on the matter. As with most of the arc none of this really goes anywhere or actually builds toward anything concrete... It does feel less like Kubo did this to fill space and more like he crammed it in because it was some note he'd had in the margins that he knew he'd never get the chance to work in any other way; if it'd been random last second jargon to excuse a random power up, I feel like he'd have aimed for something less complicated than what we got. But again, we'll never really know.

[thegeneralguy]

The Champion of Olympus - Ares’s Arrogance

By thegeneralguy

Revised by @amalianetwork​

The chariot of the sun was finishing its daily round over Mount Olympus, leaving a crimson trail in its path. The beautiful sky was painted red, the golden rooftops of the monumental temples and lavish palaces reflecting the majestic sunset´s light. In the inner circle of heaven, the faint sound of metal clashes resonated through the cloudy hills, where all the Olympian´s residences stood proudly watching over the vast extent of the celestial realm. The furious battle cries were coming from the dominion of the god of war. The magnificent mansion stood out of the rest of the buildings due to the dark marble composing its solemn columns, along with a vibrant bronze rooftop that illuminated the surroundings in a permanent hue of carmine.

The aggressive cacophony was coming from the inner courtyard, which occupied the biggest part of the palace. Ares was in the middle of a fierce battle against two other gods, wielding his giant golden spear to strike them with fury over and over again. His extremely muscular body did not impede his battle prowess, as he gracefully danced with the spear as an extension of his limbs. Both lesser gods brandished two identical golden swords, masterfully avoiding and countering the bigger deity's attacks. With the might of his enormous arm, the god of war planted his weapon on the ground propelling himself into a somersault and successfully jumping over the two surprised beings. Suspended on the air he then knocked down both his foes with a fast sweep of his powerful leg, landing gracefully on top of them.

"Again."

He said in a gruff bass voice, his fiery crimson eyes glaring down at the two defeated gods struggling to get back on their feet. Just as they were getting ready to clash weapons again, a bright pink flash replaced the bloody red atmosphere for an instant, leaving behind the most beautiful woman in existence. Ares put down his spear and walked towards his past lover, Aphrodite. She stared seductively at her forbidden object for desire. After all the eons resisting the urge to touch again, the mighty god of war still looked as imposing as the first time they fell for each other. His white robe was perched over one shoulder, exposing one half of his titanic chest. The enormous arms he once used to crack the skulls of his enemies rippled with power, thick veins pumping the holy ichor inside of them. His legs looked stronger than the dark marble columns supporting the palace. Many mementos from his previous battles decorated his bronze skin in the form of many little marks left by the few weapons that were able to harm him.

His brutish face was half concealed by a dense black beard and had a big scar that ran across from his hanging brow, through his eye, and got lost in the hair on his square chin. His intimidating appearance was only accentuated by his bald head, along with the piercing red eyes that flared with the rage of a thousand wars underneath. He approached the goddess, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her close, only to be pushed back by her slender arm.

"You know how he gets when he knows we're together, Ares."

The beautiful deity could barely hold her urge to make love with the masculine god in front of her, but the fear was greater than any other primal instinct she could feel. Ares grunted annoyed, and let the woman out of his embrace.

"I could take on him you know, and you would be finally free. Free to be with me for the rest of eternity."

Aphrodite looked at her former lover with a deep-rooted sadness behind her dark pink eyes and raised her elegant hand to caress the god's rough cheek. Ares took her hand delicately, like a gorilla grabbing the most delicate of a rose's petals, and planted a kiss full of passion and nostalgia of an immemorial time, when they were together, on her palm. They both stood still for a moment, and then Aphrodite removed her hand from his grip and took a step back.

"You know that can't be. Even though you're the god of war and combat, you're still no match for Hephaestus's might. Remember what happened last time."

Ares's winced for a moment, his melancholic visage quickly returning to its natural angry sneer. Of course, he remembered the humiliation his brother put his own wife and him through, exposing their affair to the rest of the gods. The animosity both of his parents felt for him only increased, making the god even more of an outcast than he already was. Only his desire for the goddess of beauty was stronger than his undying loyalty for his father, trying desperately to gain his favor in every conflict. But all his attempts failed miserably, especially when his sister Athena was involved. Zeus, although prideful and violent, was a brilliant strategist and he always sided with his wiser and more intelligent daughter, often leaving the god of war hurt in his pride. He looked back at Aphrodite reproachingly, wondering what the goddess's visit truly meant.

"What are you looking for Aphrodite? If you know Hephaestus doesn't like to see you with me, what is it that brings you to interrupt my training?"

"I know how these situations tend to put you under too much pressure. I just wanted to ask what you were planning to do concerning the trial of the Champion."

"It's been a long time since father has put a challenge on all of us. This might be my opportunity to prove once and for all that I'm the one he should be turning to in troubling times, not Athena."

The god of war was a force to be reckoned with. His prowess in battle was matched by no one in Mount Olympus, and his sheer force was only rivaled by few other deities. But although he was a fearsome opponent for whoever dared in challenging him, he had one fatal flaw: his arrogance. His thirst for blood and violence, when combined with his superiority complex, bred poor choices in and out of battle, often resulting in the mighty god being ridiculed. All the emotions from defeat were only magnified by his enormous ego, creating a bitter outcast who was often ignored by the rest of his fellow deities. Aphrodite knew that deep inside that glorious body and arrogant demeanor was a deep sadness product of rejection from his own family.

"I know how you feel Ares, but I would advise you not to waste too much energy in this affair. You know how Zeus can be when it comes to a world-ending crisis. I don't want you to get more hurt…"

She then took a step forward to put her hand on his gargantuan chest. Ares quickly turned his back towards Aphrodite, unable to keep the emotions from projecting on his face.

"What do you, the goddess of beauty, know about rejection? Father is completely blind to my superior power, and it's my duty to show him he has the most mighty ally for whatever challenge he might face. I have to eclipse the other competitors to take my rightful place on his side. Especially Athena."

The rivalry between the god of war and the goddess of wisdom was not unheard of in Mount Olympus. Even the epic tales from the terrestrial plane depicted the many victories Athena had against Ares. The big scar on the god's face was an eternal reminder of the goddess's superior abilities, often fueling the god's rage in battle every time he caught a glimpse of it in the reflection of a shield. Aphrodite wasn't very keen on Athena either, often clashing with her because of their separate views on vices and virtues, but it was nothing compared to the strong hatred Ares felt for her. The goddess of beauty then took a few steps forward to stand next to the strong deity.

"I guess there is no point in trying to stop you. I would advise you to be careful though. I don't know if you noticed, but Zeus's demeanor seemed very strange during the reunion. You'd be deceiving yourself if you didn't think the ascension of a new champion is not something out of the ordinary."

The god of war stood quiet for some time, reflecting on Aphrodite's words. It was true that the ritual of ascension was a holy ceremony, reserved for heroic acts of celebration instead of an emergency of this type. The last time he tried to gift a mortal with the divine essence, he watched helplessly as his devotee was consumed by its power, obliterating him. He couldn't even remember when was the last time the ritual was successful. But all these concerns were of little meaning for Ares. Before he stood a perfect opportunity to demonstrate his power and to show his abnegation for his father.

"I already made up my mind, Aphrodite. I will personally descend to the Earth and create the best Champion there is. No one will be able to stand against him, for he will be forged by my superior power."

Aphrodite let out a frustrated sigh, knowing her attempts of dissuading the god from taking part in this ridiculous plan were pointless. This whole plot seemed very suspicious for her, but she couldn't exactly point out what was going on. If Ares wasn't going to help her find out, she'll have to resort to other more extreme means. She then looked at the two godlings standing firmly waiting for Ares's command. Both looked practically identical, standing tall and strong like their father, but their handsome faces devoid of their progenitor's magnificent beard. They also had heads full of thick dark brown curls, encasing their more youthful faces. Their muscular bodies were also covered by numerous scars, mostly done by their father's spear.

"Look at my poor children. What have you done to them, Ares?"

Phobos and Deimos were the twin children of beauty and war, born out of human's innermost primal instinct: fear. Both godlings owed an undying loyalty to their father, often accompanying him in each of his affairs. Ares walked towards them, inspecting every inch of his two soldiers, who stood there firmly in silence awaiting their father's command.

"I made them into what they're right now. Two war weapons capable of sowing despair out of mortal hearts. And it seems I'll make use of their service once again. I'm going to make use of a couple of tricks you've shown me."

"If you already made your decision, it is useless to remain here and try to convince you otherwise. Just a word of advice Ares, don't let your pride be your downfall once again."

The goddess disappeared then with a flash, leaving Ares and the two godlings alone once again. The god of war then pondered on the goddess's words, wondering if he should change his mind and challenge his father, like many members of his family were going to. He remembered an ancient saying from another mortal cult: pride goes before the fall. But he quickly dismissed any doubt circling his mind. An opportunity to gain Zeus's grace wasn't going to present itself that easily again. It was his chance to demonstrate his superior existence, and take Athena's place right next to their father. His rugged face was drawn with a sinister smile. He was going to reap a human from his sister's flock, proving once and for all who the most powerful warrior of Olympus was.

It was an unusually agitated day for Athens High. The days before summer vacation were always received with enthusiasm by the students, and relief by the faculty members. Colorful school banners announcing the graduation ceremony for the seniors decorated the hallways, proudly signifying another school year's death. Every student was filled to the brim of school spirit, enthusiastically signing yearbooks, taking pictures, and joking with their soon to be former teachers. All except one. Leon Machiavelli sat quietly at his desk, tapping his feet nervously while he waited for the ultimate call for freedom that was the ringing of the bell on the last school day.

High school could be harsh for someone like Leon. The 19-year-old always felt like a fish out of water when it came to socializing with his classmates, most of his time spent on furthering his knowledge and improving his chances of getting into an Ivy League college, finally ridding himself of the shackles that an upbringing in a small rural town in the middle of nowhere could bring. The few friendships he managed to make over the course of his years through school were few and far too insignificant to regret his choice in moving to the other side of the country and never hearing from them again. Not to mention his troubled relationship with his parents, who were concerned by their son's more hermit nature. His family had been living in that town for a few generations, owning some small businesses in the surrounding area and establishing itself as one of the most aristocratic families in the county.

The swan song of the school year chimed in the form of the bell's ring, causing excited screams and cheers from all students. Notebooks were propelled into the air, paper falling everywhere painting the floor with white. Girls exchanged teary hugs, immortalizing their last moments in the classroom with their smartphones and guys hollered and smashed against each other in fraternal hugs. Leon swiftly picked up his backpack and made a beeline towards the exit, already feeling claustrophobic in the middle of the chaos. He made his way through the sea of students, already feeling the scorching hot summer air blowing at his face. When he was just a step away from freedom, he felt a meaty hand on his shoulder pulling him back inside. He turned around with an exasperated look on his face, only to find out the hand belonged to Kevin Volker, the varsity football captain.

"Leon, bro, what's up? I haven't seen you all day."

The relationship between the hunky jock and the hermit bookworm was, to say the least, complicated. Both boys practically grew up together, their families living next to each other and going to the same school from kindergarten all through to high school. Childish wonder pushed them to form a very good friendship in their first years of development. Family barbeques, playdates, camping trips, both boys had all the necessary qualities to become the best of friends. The fact that their parents were also friends and business partners was also a good advantage for them to keep interacting almost like brothers. All their years of primary school were spent joyfully carefree, with both boys enjoying the wonder of practically living together and embarking on whichever childish adventure they wanted.

But things got different once Kevin's biological clock sent him spiraling into puberty. The gorgeous blonde boy became an athletic teenager, and his energetic nature combined with his newly acquired physical prowess turned him into a social sensation in school. The allure of the childish fantasies he used to share with his best friend was slowly replaced by the enjoyment a real-life circle of friends could bring. Kevin naturally went up the ladder of the monstrous social scale that was high school. The sports teams didn't waste any time in hunting him down, but it was the school's most prided one that caught him in the end: the football team. After just four years the cute teen had developed into a strapping young man, with an all-American jock face and a body to die for.

Watching his best friend turn into the king of school wasn't easy for Leon. The slow abandonment combined with his frustrations over his very delayed development slowly bittered him. Instead of growing up big and strong like Kevin, Leon just gained a few inches in height, but a lot of pounds in weight. He resented his friend for getting the attention of their peers and leaving him alone to fuel their fantasy world on his own. He resented his friend for gaining the grace of other students, and soon cut all ties to him. The chubby red-head grew up alone in the darkness of his bedroom, while the blonde stud dwelled in the sunlight. His natural curiosity pushed him into pursuing knowledge, far prioritizing the cultivation of the mind instead of the body. His academic achievements mixed in with his hidden frustrations bred an arrogance delusion. Leon convinced himself that he was too good for other people, shielding himself from the pain of rejection. Completely dismissing any attempt of remaining active took a toll on his body, turning the chubby teen into an overweight young man with a disheveled appearance. Every time he saw Kevin, he remembered their lost childhood and caught a glimpse of his true reality. The muscular jock served as a window of truth in Leon's arrogant delusion: his loneliness was a product of his own doing.

"I was just busy getting my things ready for tomorrow's speech. Can I help you with anything?"

He bitterly stared into the jock's blue eyes and saw exactly the look that he hated. Even though Kevin grew dismissive towards him, he never once participated in the occasional bullying red-head suffered, often offering to help out with whatever he needed. His usual cocky gaze hid a deep-set sympathy for the lonely nerd, and Leon hated that. He didn't need the sympathy of someone he considered inferior.

"No, it's all good thanks. I'm going to drive home first to pick up my gym bag, and I wanted to offer you a ride. It's too fucking hot out there, man,” said Kevin with a burst of awkward laughter. His deep voice vibrated on his chest, which twitched playfully from time to time. Leon scanned his former friend with a resentful gaze. The heavily muscled jock was encased in the trendiest designer clothes, his bulging arms threatening to rip his polo's sleeves apart, and the tree trunks he had for legs wrapped in skin-tight chinos, showcasing the deep definition within the heavy muscles. He tried his best not to stare too much into the body and kept his apathetic frown fixed on his piercing blue eyes.

"Thank you, but I'm gonna take the bus. There's some stuff in town I need to sort out first."

"That's ok, guess I'll see you tomorrow in the graduation ceremony then,” said Kevin with a subdued sigh. Leon turned around without saying anything and headed outside towards the searing sunlight. Even though he kept a straight face during the exchange with his former friend, his fists were clenched due to the anger he felt. Even after all those years, Leon's heart still skipped a beat every time the jock was nearby. No matter how much he tried to deceive himself into thinking he was the superior of the two, he couldn't get rid of the feelings he had for his former friend.

"Congratulations on the valedictorian thing by the way!"

He managed to scream before Leon was outside the door. The chubby red-head barely turned around, and with a weak thanks, he was lost in the blinding light.

The little town's main street was buzzing with activity on the hot summer afternoon. Families paraded themselves on the sidewalk, eating ice cream and letting the kids play on the numerous water fountains around the place. Little restaurants and boutiques decorated the sides of the street, offering a colorful option of both local and imported goods to the town's small population. The Machiavelli family owned many of those businesses and almost every convenience store in town. Leon was heading to the family's favored tailor to meet his mother to get his outfit for the graduation ready. After all, the son of one of the town's most important families couldn't show up in his usual disheveled state to his high school graduation. Leon always thought things like fashion and social status were frivolities, intellectually inferior people used to feel better about themselves, so he gave little importance to them. Even now on the threshold of the rest of his life, he could care less about how he looked, but his mother insisted so much that he gave in to her requests to keep her from nagging him any longer.

The little bell on top of the door chimed in when he entered the door, attracting the attention of his mother, who was enthusiastically discussing ties and bows with the tailor.

"Honey, you made it! Step in front of the mirror please, Mr. Schneider will take your final measurements."

No one would think the chubby teenager was related to the elegant woman standing next to the counter. She looked flawless despite her age and dressed impeccably no matter if she was at a charity ball or going to the supermarket. The only trait that tied both of them to each other was their fiery red hair, which she kept in a perfect updo fully solidifying her upper-class status. Without saying a word, Leon stepped up to the little platform surrounded by three body-sized mirrors. The tailor approached him, fully armed with his measuring tape and a set of pins to hold the seams and folds in place.

"What do you think of this tie honey? I think the green would highlight your…"

The excited chatter of his mother soon faded away, as Leon focused more and more on his reflection of the three pieced mirrors. It looked like puberty forgot about him in the middle of the way. He never really grew that much in height, topping at a shorter 5'5. The prominent curve of his stomach was visible through the simple black t-shirt he was wearing, deforming The legend of Zelda's Triforce symbol together with his sagging chest. His stubby arms laid powerless on his sides, and his chubby legs were hidden under a pair of oversized jeans. His pale freckled face was covered by pimples, accentuating his unclean appearance, and it still sported the signs of infancy he never outgrew, with chubby cheeks and a small nose. The most prominent feature on him was his bright green eyes, courtesy of his mother's Irish heritage, along with his unkempt red curls. He had convinced himself long ago that an unkept body was not a problem as long as the mind flourished, so he gave up on any attempt in bettering his appearance. Dwelling in his thoughts he didn't realize the tailor was done measuring and was discussing the suit's finishing touches with his mother, who didn't wait for her son's approval on the rest of the accessories.

"Is that all mom?"

He asked a bit annoyed whilst grabbing his belongings and heading to the door.

"Yes honey, I'll arrange the rest with Mr. Schneider. You will look so handsome tomorrow. I'll see you at home later."

She answered without even looking at him. Leon sighed and headed outside, not wanting to spend another second thinking in tomorrow's ceremony, and made his way towards his house.

The Machiavelli family's estate consisted of a big two-story house, a big garden with a swimming pool, and a small guest house. There was no doubt that it belonged to very affluent people. The mansion's pearl white walls reflected the afternoon sunlight, almost giving it an incandescent glow. Leon entered through the massive oak doors and headed straight for his room. On his way there he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the massive family portrait in the house's foyer. A younger Leon smiled faintly back at him; his chubby body encased in a black suit just like his father. The elegant man looked imposing with his strong physique and masculine features. The only common thing Leon and his father had was their last name because no one would say the pale red-head was related to the mature Italian stud that was his father. His mom looked perfect as usual, leaving Leon sticking out like a sore thumb between his two impressive progenitors. He tried his best to ignore the picture like he always did and enclosed himself in his private sanctuary.

His room was decorated with posters of antique temples, beautiful palaces, and imposing sculptures. Leon's love for fantasy had slowly driven him into researching the origin of human imagination itself, and therefore human's creative history. His ultimate goal was to become erudite of anthropology, teaching and researching in the most lauded institutions on the field and finally gaining the recognition of better people than the small-town folk he loved to look down upon. He sat down on his desk to revise his prepared speech for the graduation ceremony one last time. Despite his parent's best effort to dissuade him, Leon was willing to perform a bitter soliloquy expressing his frustrations against his classmates and solidifying his status as the class' arrogant intellectual. Beneath the snarky remarks and morality lectures written on paper, laid a profound pain product of his loneliness. His train of thought slowly brought the image of Kevin into his head again. Leon was going to finally be free of watching him blossom more and more every day. But even if he moved across the country, he was still unsure he would ever be able to forget the handsome jock. After all, despite the endless hours he spent convincing himself Kevin abandoned him out of malice, he was the only person Leon ever loved.

The chubby red-head barely gave any thought to his sexuality. He considered any kind of lust as a distraction, a primal burden that impeded the full growth of the human psyche. Unlike practically all of his classmates, he wore his virginity as a badge of honor, his mind completely clean of the stain of sex. But despite trying his best to suppress his natural urges, the thought of Kevin always came through inside his head. The connection they shared when they were children still transcended the barriers Leon tried to put up to elevate himself. And the fact that the handsome jock looked like a classical Greek sculpture come to life didn't help the lascivious thoughts leave the nerd's mind. Leon tried to hate Kevin as much as he could because if he didn't, he would become the ultimate shackles preventing him from breaking free from his small-town life once and for all. The last golden rays of sunset light came into the room through the big windows, illuminating the red-head's face. His gaze was glued to the sheet of paper in front of him. This speech was an ode to intellectual growth, and a farewell to the life Leon chose to leave behind. He went into bed exhausted, nervous about the events coming up the next day. It was going to be the last time Leon Machiavelli graced his classmates with his thoughts. Afterward, the only way they could catch a glimpse of his brilliant mind was either buying his future publications or listening to his TED talks.

It was past midnight when Leon was woken up by a shiver down his spine. The pale moonlight illuminated his bedroom, casting out gruesome shadows out of every corner. The nerd had the feeling something was staring at him from the darkness. The entire room was scorching hot, despite the cold night air flowing through an open window. A low animal growl attracted Leon's attention towards the darkest corner in the bedroom. His face went pale with fear when he discovered the two big glowing red eyes staring at him maliciously. A black figure slowly crept out of the shadows, making itself visible thanks to the white moonlight. Leon stared speechless at the giant black dog growling at him menacingly from the other side of the room. His big snout was curled up into an angry snarl, making the dagger sized fangs visible. The terrified nerd was petrified in his bed, unable to muster the minimal courage to even scream for help. Without taking his eyes off of him, the black dog spoke with a deep man's voice.

"When the time comes, follow me. I will give you what you want"

And as soon as it appeared, it melted into the shadows, leaving the red-head alone to faint out of the fear he just experienced.

  The golden rays of sunlight in the late morning woke Leon up, who groggily rubbed his eyes and got up. Despite sleeping through the night, he felt exhausted. He was unsure if what he saw in the darkness had been real or just a product of the stress before graduation. He looked at the clock on his nightstand, only to realize he had slept through his alarm and was already running late.

"Damn it"

He yelled exasperated as he jumped out of bed to get ready for his ceremony. He splashed some water face and combed his red curls a little bit just to hide the mark the pillow had left on his head. One of the maids brought up the finished suit his mother had bought the previous day. It was a beautiful dark grey suit, Italian cut, with an emerald green tie and a handkerchief to match. He quickly put it on, feeling it snug against his body. Despite the suit being tailored to his exact fit, the outward curve of his prominent stomach was still visible, putting a slight strain on the buttons. The emerald green tie did highlight his eyes, just like his mother told him before buying it. He took the cards for his upcoming speech and made sure he had everything ready for the ceremony. On his way out, he looked at his reflection on the big mirror in the hallway. Even after neglecting his appearance today, the beauty of the suit made him look almost distinguished. He felt strong, ready to sever his ties to this town and his past. It was going to be a memorable day, marking the beginning of his new life.

He arrived at the ground floor of the mansion, only to find it empty. A small note was laying on top of the little table next to the entrance.

"Your father and I went to the club for a quick workout. We'll see you later at school. Tell Charlie to drive you there if you don't want to take one of the cars."

He crushed the little note on his hands, feeling a pang of pain due to his parents' absence. It wasn't unusual for his mother to delegate accompanying him to the chauffeur, but Leon thought the day of his high school graduation was going to be different. He quickly dismissed any sorrow from his head, replacing it with a fiery determination. His speech today was also inspired by his aloof parents, who barely gave their only son a second thought. He looked at the big family portrait one last time. With this suit, he might have looked a bit like he belonged, but he knew the truth. His destiny was far away from this little town, which was below his expectations.

The school was buzzing with activity, with teachers running everywhere getting every last detail prepared, and students getting their graduation robes ready for the ceremony. Colorful banners decorated the main courtyard, where a scenario with a podium and a line of seats was built. The many rows of chairs in front of it were already filling themselves up with enthusiastic families, readying their cameras for their children's special moments. Leon scoffed at the scene, thinking how sad it was that this was going to be the only highlight in their offspring's life. He picked up his robe and valedictorian sash and headed towards his seat. In the distance, he saw Kevin arrive with both of his parents. The gorgeous stud was impeccably dressed in a beautiful sapphire blue suit. Every muscle was perfectly framed and enveloped in the expensive fabric, accentuating the dramatic angles his body formed. His dirty blond hair was perfectly styled in his usual messy style, and his white smile beamed stronger than the sun itself. Leon couldn't take his eyes off from his former friend, making an inhumane effort to remain focused on his goal. This day was going to be about him for the first time, not about Kevin.

The ceremony began after all the attendants took their seats, with the principal opening the day with a generic speech about school spirit and class fraternity. Leon fiddled with his cards nervously, the pressure of his big moment slowly starting to overcome him. He couldn't help but ask himself if he was willing to pull through it. After all, his classmates were still people deserving of respect, even if he considered them intellectually inferior. But then the memory of Kevin laughing with all of them, sharing the fabled fraternal bond the principal was talking about, and excluding Leon from their circle solidified his decision. The words he was going to say could be harsh, but it was something he felt entitled to share.

"And now, please welcome the Athens High class of 2019 valedictorian, Leon Machiavelli."

The sound of the applause woke Leon up from his daze, as he stood up and made his way to the podium. All the eyes in the audience were for the first time focused on him. The scorching sunlight made him feel a little light-headed, his hair matted with sweat, and his body sticking uncomfortably to his suit. He looked at the seats below him, squinting his eyes due to the sun's intense shine. All of the chairs were occupied, except two, very close to the front rows. Leon let out a sorrowful sigh, the last ember of hope of sharing this moment with his parents dying. He put his cards down, took a big breath, and started speaking.

"My fellow students of Athens High. The promised day is finally upon us, the day when we will finally take flight and begin the rest of our lives. Most of you don't even know who I am, but after today you will never forget my name. When I was writing this speech, I couldn't help but notice a few ironic facts that I would like to share with you. It is fitting that our school mascot is an owl because that is how I've felt all these years. I've dedicated countless hours to quietly observing your behavior, your desires, and every intricate social structure in our school, and I can't help but feel immense gratitude. Thanks to all of you, I've blossomed into the epitome of human intelligence and wisdom that I am today. And let me tell you why. After a long analysis, I've come up with the conclusion that my greatest fear is becoming as simple as one of you…."

Something beyond the sun's glare caught his attention. At first, he thought it might be a mirage caused by the burning heat, but the more he focused on it, the clearer it became. A shadow beneath a far tree looked eerily familiar. Leon's hands started to tremble in fear, as he recognized the black dog from last night staring at him from the distance, its glowing red eyes visible through the blinding sunlight. His entire speech suddenly vanished from his mind, together with the fleeting empowerment he was feeling moments ago. He fumbled nervously with the cards, only to drop them by accident.

"You….uh…..I…"

The echoes of his nervous words coming from the speakers resonated through the courtyard. Curious eyes focused on Leon, who quickly turned into a sweaty mess. He looked at Kevin in the front row, who had a worried look on his face. He felt a shame he had never felt before. Being humiliated in front of half the town was the last thing Leon wanted. He searched for the dog again, only for it to vanish without a trace. He looked at the public in defeat and managed to scavenge some last words to minimize the embarrassment.

"I want to thank you all for coming. Enjoy the rest of the ceremony."

With those last words, Leon left the podium and sank into his seat, wishing for the earth to swallow him. The principal took the microphone again and followed through with the protocol.

"Thank you, Leon, for those, uh, inspiring words. And now, we will present the students with their diplomas."

Leon sat in his place quietly, staring at the green grass. In his mind, the only thing that was present was the horrible feeling of embarrassment. Everything he had planned; all the preparation and previous excitement had been for nothing. The muffled sound of pomp and circumstance blasting out of the speakers was all he could hear, as the principal went through the line of students calling each of them to the podium and shaking hands with them. One face still stood out from the rest: Kevin's. One thing was failing in front of his classmates, but failing in the presence of the person he wanted to impress the most made everything worse. Now Kevin would never find out how well-off Leon thought he was despite being abandoned by the handsome jock. Somewhere inside the cacophony governing the courtyard, he heard his name, and without taking his gaze off the ground he stood up and picked up his diploma. He gave the principal a weak handshake and quickly slid back into his chair. This moment was indeed immortalized in his mind, but not in the way he intended.

Once all students got their respective acknowledgments, the ceremony ended with Oxford caps decorating the sky accompanied by deafening applause. Families reunited in the whole courtyard, hugging and blasting pictures everywhere. Leon was still in his seat when he saw both his parents approaching him.

"Honey, sorry we're late. How was your speech,” asked his mother without any hint of remorse in her voice. Leon was used to being left behind by his family, but this time he felt actual pain. If his parents were there, the only people with whom he shared some kind of superficial connection, he wouldn't have felt so helpless in the aftermath of his speech debacle. He looked up at his parents with cold wrath in his eyes, tears starting to slowly well up inside them.

"I don't ask much of you. I don't mind when you hide me at your parties, or when you go on extravagant trips without me. I just asked for your presence for one day. One day."

His reproaches were met by the unchanging poised faces of his progenitors. His mother was the first one to speak.

"Honey, not here. People are looking,” She said with a simulated smile.

"I don't care about your deluded picture of perfection, mother. You ruined the last time we were going to connect as a family. And for what? A sauna bath in your pretentious club."

His father's petrified face showed a glimpse of anger. The Machiavelli patriarch had never been very fond of his only child, considering him a nuisance and a liability for their public image. Leon just didn't fit well as the heir of the family's fortune, completely lacking charisma and skill to lead. In his eyes, the only thing his son did was cower behind his infinite collection of books in his room.

"Quit whining, Leon. You should be thankful your mother and I made time to come and congratulate you. Now, let's take a picture. We will discuss this back at home."

Leon's last hope of acceptance from his family died as soon as the flash from the camera was gone, his young heart completely overtaken by the coldness of rejection. His aloof parents then proceeded to greet the rest of the attendants. The young nerd felt completely lost inside the crowd. All he wanted to do was to get back home, pack his bags and leave on the next bus out of town. While he was analyzing the best way to scurry out of there, a sapphire flash caught his attention. He then looked towards it, only to find out the colorful splash of light came from Kevin, who was heading into the school through a side entrance. At first, he didn't pay too much attention to it, but then he saw the black dog from earlier following the handsome jock. After some consideration, Leon managed to conjure the courage to follow Kevin into the building, worried about what that black creature could do to his former friend. He pushed the door and entered the school's auditorium, only to find it dark and empty. The light to the locker rooms was on, so he made his way through the big hall towards it.

"Kevin? Are you in here?"

His nervous voice echoed through the rows of metal lockers. The air in the room felt damp and heavy, the lingering musky smell of sweaty athletes permanently staining the atmosphere. Something else was mixed in the aromas, a metallic scent, like rusted metal. He hesitantly stepped further into the locker room, his only companion being the sound of his footsteps on the tiled floor. The cold lights flickered from time to time, giving the entire scene a very ominous appearance. He turned around the corner and finally found Kevin in front of the sinks. He was staring emptily into the mirror, completely unaware of Leon's presence. The young nerd was terrified but kept approaching the young jock.

"Hey Kevin, are you alright?"

He said as he put a sweaty hand on Kevin's shoulder. He was able to perceive a red flicker on the jock's icy blue eyes, and then Kevin reacted to his touch.

"Leon, what's up? You look scared bro, are you alright?"

He said casually beaming his celebrity smile towards Leon, who just stared completely puzzled at the handsome jock.

"I saw a black dog follow you into the auditorium. Have you seen it?"

"Black dog? Bro, I really think the heat has started to affect you. I just came inside to freshen up a bit, but I haven't seen any black dog."

"But I swear I saw it come inside, I was a bit concerned it would attack you or anything. That thing has been roaming around school premises since the ceremony. I saw it during my...."

He made a pause, remembering the events that had just taken place moments before during the ceremony. The rage product of his humiliation returned to him.

"During my speech. Never mind, I can't say I'm surprised you're unable to notice even the most obvious things."

Kevin's smile faded from his face, his gorgeous gaze gaining the depth that bothered Leon so much because it made him care for a person he had convinced himself was below him.

"Leon, bro, I know things haven't been okay between us for a while. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel bad or something. I was just going with the flow, I never intended to hurt you. But I can't keep myself away anymore. If today is about a cycle, then there is something I need to set straight between us."

Leon's cold gaze lightened up a bit, curious about what he was talking about. He had never seen Kevin this nervous before. The young jock stared at the floor and fiddled nervously with his hands. The words came out a bit forced out of his mouth like someone was making him recite a memorized confession.

"I need to tell you something, but not here. Come to my place tonight for the party. Everyone will be there."

"I don't know Kevin. Parties aren't really my cup of tea…."

The handsome jock put his strong hand on Leon's shoulder and gave him a mischievous smile that not even the nerd's toughest defenses could resist.

"I promise to make it worth your while."

Leon hesitated for a second, completely incredulous for what he was hearing. He had already decided not to go to the party, but the day was not going according to plan. He could feel his heart beating almost out of his chest, excited and intrigued for whatever the jock was going to tell him.

"Sure, I'll see you there."

An eerie spark lit up behind Kevin's blue eyes, but Leon was so dumbstruck he completely missed it.

"Sweet bro, I'll see you later then. Nice clothes by the way."

Kevin then pulled the smaller man up for a hug, smothering him with his strong body. Leon could feel the hardness of his muscles through the expensive blue fabric. The jock then made his way towards the exit, leaving Leon in a disoriented haze. For a moment he completely forgot about the gruesome black dog and his failed speech, all he could see in his mind was Kevin's gorgeous smile.

  The sun was already setting when Leon arrived at the Volker residence. Many groups of his fellow students were approaching the mansion through the extensive courtyard, already with some drinks on their hands. The young nerd hesitated, his social anxiety crippling him for a moment. He still despised the rest of his class and saw no point in trying to interact with them. If he was going to this party, it was for Kevin only. Maybe something good would come out of this terrible day after all. When he crossed through the house's massive portal, he was immediately assaulted by an explosion of light and sound completely overwhelming his senses. A sea of young adults covered the big parlor and the adjacent rooms, drinking and dancing like there was no tomorrow. The big chandelier hanging from the ceiling was adapted to flash beams of light of different colors in all directions, and a DJ booth was installed on the far end of the formal living room, blasting some modern music Leon couldn't recognize. He was an absolute amateur when it came to partying, so he felt lost and scared inside the crowd. He tried looking for Kevin everywhere, but due to his short height, he wasn't able to look past a few heads before him.

Leon approached the drinking table and ordered a soda. He tried to find a quiet corner to drink in peace before resuming his search for his former friend, but everywhere he looked was swarmed by the inebriated guests. He was quickly losing his patience, as he was pushed around by the dancing crowd over and over again. Somehow, he found his way to the big spiral staircase leading to the upper floors and jumping over the barrier to keep attendants on the ground floor, he quickly went up a few steps to get a better overview. Despite gaining the higher ground, his attempts in finding his friend proved unsuccessful. He was about to give up and head back home defeated when something caught his attention through the mahogany banister. The monstrous-looking black dog was staring at him from above, its glowing red eyes visible despite the chaotic party atmosphere. After making sure the nerd saw it, it walked further up the stairs into the second floor.

Leon remembered what the beast had told him the night before, and followed it into the higher level of the mansion. Once he made it to the upper floor, he saw the dog walking through a long hallway and entering the furthest room. The young nerd continued his pursuit and found himself in what he assumed was Kevin's room. The lavish bedroom was decorated with all sorts of trophies and medals, as well as an entertainment system appropriate for an active teenager. Leon's attention was drawn to the row of portraits on the big bookshelf. Pictures of young Kevin in all sorts of family trips and sports events were displayed in delicate frames. One picture, in particular, stood out from the rest. Leon couldn't believe his eyes as he took the silver frame in his hands and stared at the photograph. A young Kevin had his arm wrapped around a young Leon, both sitting on top of a rock next to a river. They were laughing, radiating genuine happiness through the picture. Leon couldn't believe that after all those years, Kevin kept memories from their childhood so close to him. The young man the nerd considered his bitter rival and enemy never antagonized him.

The big glass door to the balcony opened suddenly, letting a warm gust of wind into the room. Leon put the picture back in its place and headed outside. The stunning twilight sky was painted in different shades of red, showering the scenery with crimson rays of light. The hot summer breeze rustled the leaves on the trees surrounding the properties, producing a serene sound that drowned the music from downstairs. The nerd stepped on the balcony, and finally found what he was looking for. Kevin was standing on the edge of the marble banister, watching the beautiful sunset.

"Kevin?"

The handsome jock turned around to face Leon. The only thing the young nerd could see were the icy blue eyes inside his former friend's shadow, his silhouette completely encased in a red halo product of the dying sunset.

"I knew you would come. Come here, I want you to look at this."

Leon stepped forward, taking place right next to the handsome jock. Kevin flashed his regular charming smile at the nerd, who instantly turned red as a beet. For an instant, he was thankful for this unusually bright sunset that hid the blush on his cheeks.

"I wanted this evening to go perfectly. And now that you're here it's finally complete."

"Just tell me what you want Kevin. We haven't talked in years and suddenly you take interest in me. I just want to know why."

Kevin diverted his gaze into the sunset, suddenly turning serious. Leon could see the distress in his eyes.

"I never lost interest in you Leon. It was you who pushed me away. You were the one that decided to stop hanging out with me."

Leon clenched his fists in anger, the painful memories of his friend exchanging him for more popular friends still poisoning his mind.

"How dare you say that! You were the one that went away, that grew into…."

He made a nervous pause, uncertain about what he was about to say. The wrath inside of him made him spill out the words without thinking.

"Into a mindless meathead. Look at us, Kevin. Your physical prowess is unparalleled, that's a fact. But I got what truly matters: a brilliant mind. I have preserved my psyche in the best way possible. I've resisted the allure of petty teenage necessities. And now, I'm in the way of becoming one of the most brilliant thinkers in recent years!"

Kevin turned around to face the angry nerd, who was on the brink of tears due to the pent-up rage he was feeling.

"Is that what you truly want bro? It sounds very lonely to me."

"I don't need anyone. Soon, I'll be where I'm supposed to. I don't mind being alone."

Kevin grabbed Leon's arm, pulling him closer. The nerd could feel the intense heat radiating from the hunk's body. He stared directly into his former friend's blue eyes.

"Are you sure you want to be alone? I might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I got all the attention I want, from anyone. When you look like me, it's an easy task."

He said flexing his meaty arm, straining the soft blue fabric on the sleeves of his suit. Leon couldn't take his eyes off of Kevin's body, completely mesmerized by the jock's posing show. He failed to notice his friend's eyes shining in a dark red shade from time to time. The jock's voice turned from warm and concerned, into cold and aggressive.

"No matter how much you lie to yourself Leon, you want to be like me. To finally be accepted by everyone, including your parents. Picture it for a second. Finally, be worthy of being called your father's son. What use is your intelligence to the Machiavelli family, when you lack the courage to destroy your fears? Truth is, you're no more than a resentful dweeb."

Kevin continued flexing, taking off his suit's jacket, his movements starting to take on a seductive flair.

"Stop it. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course I know. I know everything about you bro, including your darkest secret."

Leon suddenly opened his eyes like plates, completely incredulous for what was coming out of the jock's mouth. It was impossible anyone knew how he felt about Kevin, he didn't tell anyone. Kevin smiled with a hint of malice, knowing he had Leon right where he wanted him. His blue eyes now shone in a permanent crimson hue.

"That's right, I know that you like me. Your mind is indeed a complex maze, but no psyche cannot be cracked open. I could feel the fear of being discovered practically pouring out of your pores."

Leon looked down in defeat, feeling the embarrassment bubble out of him. He knew this was too good to be true. Kevin approached Leon once again, taking his chubby face with his hands and pulling it up to face him. The nerd's green eyes were pooled with tears.

"There's no reason to be miserable. The reason I called you here tonight was to tell you I feel the same way about you."

Leon couldn't help but open his mouth incredulously, his mind still registering the words that just came out of the jock's mouth.

"Wha—what?"

"I've also never connected with anyone the way I connected with you. You know the real me, buried beneath this sculptural body. That means I also know the real you. You don't have to be alone."

The young nerd's sad frown slowly turned into a smile. His face was inches away from his friend's, feeling the jock's hot breath on his skin. And then he smelled it. The same metallic smelled he caught in the locker room back at school, only this time it was much more intense. He also took notice of Kevin's glowing red eyes.

"Wait, this is not right. What's happened to you?"

Kevin's grip on Leon's face tightened, his face gaining a sinister flair.

"I'm exactly who I'm supposed to be. The question here is: are you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you who you are supposed to be? I know the real you is buried beneath this intellectual façade. We just gotta pull him out."

Kevin started caressing Leon's overweight body, rubbing his torso over the suit's jacket. The young nerd was giving in to the moment, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation of his friend's strong hands on his body. One last glimmer of resistance made him suddenly pull away.

"No. I don't want this. I'm above these carnal sensations. I've never done anything with anyone."

Kevin smiled, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt, exposing the ripped divide of his upper chest.

"I know you're a virgin, I don't have any problems with that."

"But I do. I don't want it to be this way. If it ever comes to it, I want it to be special."

Kevin's confident smile quickly disappeared, replaced by a displeased scowl.

"Look at this Leon. The sunset, the balcony, the hot summer air. You said it yourself, this is the end of one phase of our lives. Isn't this special enough for you?"

"I don't know Kevin; this doesn't feel right."

"Look, it's very simple. I want to be with you, and I know you want to be with me. I just need you to renounce this ridiculous virtuous perception of your virginity. Give in to your flesh, and your body will become what you truly desire."

"My body is okay as it is."

Said Leon embarrassed by the remark of the increasingly impatient jock.

"You know it isn't. All these years you have deceived yourself in thinking you value the brilliance of your mind when in reality it's what has alienated you from everyone. Relinquish that notion, and you shall have everything you desire."

The nerd looked at his friend nervously, completely unsure about what he wanted. He thought he was sure about who he was, but what Kevin said was true. What's the point of intelligence if all you need to be accepted is purely physical? Was brilliant wisdom worth the loneliness? While Leon dwelled in his thoughts, a shadow materialized on the corner behind him. What first looked like a black dog slowly grew into a human form, taking the appearance of an extremely muscular young man, his body full of scars. He planted his crimson red eyes on Kevin, who nodded in agreement as his face grew more sinister.

"I'll make it easy for you. Kiss me. If you do, I'll know you're ready to take the next step and leave your old self behind. You'll finally be better than anyone else, just like you wish. Be warned though, there will be no turning back."

Leon was then assaulted by all the painful memories of his past. The loneliness of growing up as an outcast, the abandonment of his parents, and the disconnection from everything and everyone started crushing him. He had an opportunity to have what he truly wanted, not what he convinced himself he wanted. Hypnotized by the jock's supernatural gaze, he approached his friend with determination. Standing on the tip of his feet, he placed his lips on his. Black smoke started enveloping them, completely encasing the entire balcony and isolating it from the world. Leon felt butterflies in his stomach, as the kiss continued to gain intensity. A scorching hot feeling started seeping into his being, product of Kevin's mouth. When he realized what he had done, it was too late. He was completely under the control of the handsome jock, who started to take on a dominant role, aggressively pushing his tongue into the nerd's mouth. The last thing he consciously realized was what that taste in Kevin's mouth was: blood.

Energy started seeping into Leon's body, slowly impregnating his being. He was lost in the intense feeling his connection with Kevin was causing. The waves of power-hitting his body started making his blood boil, turning his body into an incandescent mass. He was sweating profusely, as the energy coursing through his veins unleashed different chain reactions in his cells, resulting in a vastly increased metabolic rate. The fatty deposits inside of him started to melt away, vaporized to fuel the nerd's body's incredible energy demand. His pants fell, as the rest of the suit started to hang loosely from his body. The formerly chubby red-head was left practically only in skin and bones. Kevin broke the kiss and looked at what his friend had become. His green eyes were dull and lifeless, and his formerly round face was left looking severely malnourished. He smiled victorious, knowing the spell was doing its job. He needed the man in the back to complete the transference, so he called him forward to participate in the passionate scene.

Kevin took his finger, rubbing it on his friend's lips seductively, as the muscular man in the back slowly pushed down the shoulders of the now skinny nerd to the ground. In one swift motion, the handsome jock ripped his pants off his legs, exposing a menacing bulge that was quickly gaining size in front of Leon's entranced gaze.

"Is this what you wanted? To serve and pleasure me?"

Asked Kevin dominantly, looking down at his friend. Even though Leon was still watching everything going on, the sensations in his body were driving him like an automaton. A part of his consciousness still resisted, yelling desperately that he was better than what he was becoming, but it was slowly getting smaller as if it were burned away by the divine energy coursing through his veins. He answered in a stupefied voice, unable to resist the temptation

"Yes."

"Wrong answer."

Said Kevin fishing out his manhood from his briefs and putting it on the nerd's open mouth. The same metallic taste accompanied by other muskier aromas immediately assaulted Leon's senses. He licked and tasted the meaty tube inside of him, desperately worshipping it with his tongue. The scarred man behind him then pushed his head further into the jock's crotch, making him swallow the entire seven thick inches at once. Kevin then proceeded to drill inside his friend's mouth with aggressive thrusts back and forth. Each time the phallus penetrated the nerd's mouth, the pressure inside of him caused his bones to elongate. Each limb stretched several inches, along with his spine, leaving the nerd with over a foot and a half extra height. The hands holding the jock's legs cracked and grew, along with his formerly small feet. Once his skeleton stopped breaking, the scarred man pulled Leon to his feet, his pants staying on the floor. There was a fight between bliss and misery inside of him, causing a blast of emotions that quickly flooded his head. It was like his mind was inside a pressurized pot ready to explode.

"You are the one that has to be served and pleasured. You have to conquer fear."

Kevin lifted the now taller red-head with supernatural strength and flipped him around, exposing his naked rear. Leon fell forward, grabbing on to the scarred man to remain on his feet, and felt the scorching hot head of his friend's member rub menacingly on his crack. He desired him more than anything in the world, his carnal passion completely overtaking his puritanical nature.

"Once we finally break your mind, you'll be able to become the god you were chosen to be."

And with those last words, Kevin impaled his friend mercilessly, getting one last howl of agony out of the nerd. Leon felt as if a dam had broken inside his head, flooding his mind and washing his old self away. Kevin's thrusts started pumping more divine energy into the red-head, which traveled inside his body filling out his newfound emptiness. Pure pleasure caused him to moan loudly. His blood pumped new power into his whole body, causing his muscles to twitch and ripple responding to the strength. His glutes were the first part of his body to expand. The handsome jock's phallus was quickly being swallowed further by two inflating globes of muscle. It looked like he was humping a pair of overgrown watermelons. The growth spread down his legs, filling out his quads and hamstrings with thick columns of muscle, growing as thick as two oak trees. Deep cuts were etched painfully on them, the skin stretched to its limits over the massive muscles. His calves grew to match the upper legs, gaining enough size to rival a football. His feet expanded to accommodate the still coming weight.

The pumped energy seeped simultaneously into his core muscles. Veins started gaining thickness the more power flowed in them, changing the muscle underneath. His lower back took the form of a large spearhead, two pillars of muscle slowly crawling up his back. His lower abs popped into existence, framed by two increasingly large obliques. First two, then four, then six, and ending in eight grenade-sized bumps on his stomach. The muscular pillars on his back started flaring like two flags, spreading growth into the red-head's lat muscles. The suit's jacket couldn't resist the growth for long, shredding itself to pieces revealing the sweaty skin underneath. Kevin grabbed the growing back with lust, feeling the searing hot muscle underneath move and inflate. The man's lats spread wide like a fighter plane, the muscle fibers fighting to fit into the already large frame. Mountains and valleys decorated the expanse of the magnificent back before the thrusting jock.

His chest was the next to grow as if gravity was pulling the muscle downwards. Two massive slabs of flesh etched themselves in Leon's upper torso, increasing his weight and making him widen his stance to find his new balance. The inflating pecs rose higher too like they were trying to reach his chin, while the lower parts expanded themselves reaching the limit of the red-head's anatomy. Once the veins reached his shoulders, these exploded in growth, reaching the size of an ancient Grecian helmet. Divine blood pumped into his arms, his biceps swelling to the size of big cannonballs. His triceps expanded underneath his arms, quickly adding girth to the now powerful limbs, reaching the size of a Howitzer cannon. His lower arms etched themselves with strong sinews, growing as wide as baseball bats. His hands hardened and swelled with new strength, gaining the power to crush the hardest skull with ease.

Thick veins traveled up his neck, followed by thick muscle cords making it seem more like a bull's neck than a human's. Once his Adam's apple finished its transformation, his high moans of pleasure slowly turned into a low manly grunt. Muscle piled into the squaring jaw, giving him a cartoonishly hyper-masculine look. His cheekbones rose higher, and his nose grew and broke, filling in with thick tissue. His forehead expanded further, hooding his eyes and giving him a menacing look. Kevin accelerated the rhythm, reaching the mortal limits of his body.

"Taste true power brother, and take your place above those beings you always deemed inferior."

With one final thrust, he emptied his burning load into the titan in front of him. The divine seed seeped into every tissue, making his body gain even more thickness than before. The muscles gained the strength and prowess of the best warrior the world had ever seen. The essence then corrupted what was left of his being, turning him into a new deity. Blood flowed out of his pupils, forever turning the former green eyes to an intense crimson hue. A new personality engraved itself in his head, growing increasingly aggressive the more he became aware of his existence. His puritanical nature was replaced with an insatiable lust for flesh, either in sex or in battle. His enviable knowledge was replaced by a killer instinct that made him a fearsome foe for whoever was misfortunate enough to challenge him. Eons of battle techniques and combat prowess flourished inside of him, aging him into a man in his masculine prime. The former erudite was reborn in the form of the fiercest warrior in the world. And as such, his nature turned dominant, making him displeased about the situation he was in. He stood up, now much larger than the two other men next to him.

"That's more like it,” He said in a deep voice, flexing his new muscles. Kevin and the other man stared triumphantly at their creation, watching the giant relish in his raw strength. They both felt a psychic bond form with the titan, now that he gained dominion over them. The former Leon turned to face them, his glowing red eyes staring at the scarred man with lust.

"I'm still not quite there yet. Come, brother. It's your time to serve me."

He pushed the muscular man on the banister and grabbed his own still tiny penis. He could barely hold it with his massive hands, the 4 inches stuck out barely enough for his fingers to grab. With inhuman strength he pulled the muscular man's ass apart, exposing the coveted goal for his manhood. He managed to penetrate the scarred man, and another wave of pleasure assaulted him, making him roar in bliss. He started thrusting into the man with such force it started cracking the solid banister underneath. The lesser deity moaned delighted, as he felt the member inside of him grow further, pushing deeper into his body. The titan's phallus grew to heroic proportions, gaining almost 8 inches in length and resembling a thick torpedo. The balls slapping the man's muscular thighs expanded as well, dropping lower to bovine proportions. New hormones started pumping into the giant, altering its appearance even further. Kevin watched smiling as his red curls receded a bit on his head and turned pitch black, along with his eyebrows, which grew thick and arched themselves upwards. His face started taking on a more exotic look, his lips thickening and his nose growing a bit more. The black bubble around the fornicating gods started breaking, dark smoke seeping into every pore of the giant. His pale skin darkened to a light brown, and dark follicles started popping out of his entire body. His manly jaw was quickly covered by a shadow, which grew into a magnificent black beard. The hair was so thick the skin underneath was not visible. A carpet of black hair covered his body, growing thicker on his crotch and under his arms. He kept thrusting with increased fury, feeling his own divine seed churn in his balls. He was drenched in sweat, a manly aroma quickly surrounding him. He smelled like old iron, like burnt gunpowder, like a warrior in his prime. With a powerful roar, he exploded inside the scarred man, fully cementing his new birth as Assad, the king of war.

The scarred man dropped to the ground completely exhausted, leaving Assad standing naked under the crepuscular sky. The jock scanned the titan from top to bottom, savoring every aspect of the new god before him. Assad barely gave him a second look, his old knowledge and memories gone.

"Father will be very pleased."

"Indeed I am."

A bone-chilling voice came out of the shadows in front of them. Assad watched as the god of war emerged from the darkness in his full glory. Ares rarely smiled, but he couldn't help to curl his lips up a little bit once he saw his sons' creation. He was right in delegating his power and the transference to them. Assad immediately fell on one knee, bowing respectfully before his master.

"You bred it into a full warrior, well done."

Kevin just smiled solemnly, accepting the god's compliments. Ares suspected the chosen one had to renounce voluntarily to his virtue to achieve its fullest potential. That is why he let the natural lust do his task for him. He provided the essence; the rest came from the new champion.

"Ready to serve milord.” Said Assad without lifting his gaze.

"And you will. I gave you a new life as a descendant of humanity's most powerful warriors, and in exchange, I own you now. There's something I need you to do. If you succeed, you will be allowed to take a place next to me as a worthy god. I want you to destroy the goddess Athena."

Ares then took his spear and cut his arm open. Ichor fell to the ground, taking the shape of a golden sword. Assad took the weapon in his hand, feeling its power course through him. A shining bronze armor formed around his torso, along with a helmet and a red cape. Ares was satisfied by the look of his new pawn.

"Meet me in Greece, by the feet of Mount Olympus the night of the next full moon."

"Yes, milord. I won't fail you."

With a powerful kick of his legs, the giant leaped into the sky, disappearing in the red horizon. Ares approached the banister and stood next to his sons, watching his creation advance towards his destiny.

"You can get off that meat suit now, Phobos."

Kevin's face produced one last sinister smile, as a dark shadow stepped out of him, his body falling to the ground completely unconscious. The black mass took the form of another overly muscular scared man, identical to the one still laying on the ground.

"This was way too easy, father."

"Don't be arrogant. Influencing a mortal's free will is no easy task. It's different than just persuading them with fear, as you might know."

"I didn't have to do much. This mortal in particular had very strong feelings for the champion. I just had to break his self-control barrier a bit. And I admit I let him feel some of the pleasure too, although I'm sure Deimos there had way more enjoyment."

Ares stood silently staring into the sunset. He made sure he created the best warrior of them all. He proved that the virtues so dearly preached by his stuck-up sister were vulnerable to his raw strength. He chose to let the champion be corrupted by his own desire. This was going to be his opportunity to eclipse his siblings and get his father's acceptance. He looked at his son, able to see the beauty underneath the godling's intimidating appearance. Aphrodite's image came back to him, remembering the unbreakable bond both gods possessed. He wondered if she would be capable of moving against Zeus. The goddess of beauty was not to be underestimated, so Ares spared no effort in creating the best Champion he could to compete.

"So, you interfered with the mortal's love interest. Your mother wouldn't approve."

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Legolas x elven reader

Requested by @sokkasdarling​ -took me a lil while to think of smth but can i request a legolas fic pls🥺🥺 so maybe reader rly likes him and its super obvious to aragorn but not to leg man and then when he finds out its all soft and stuff🥺🥺🥺🥺 -

I hope you like this and it’s close to what you wanted, it was fun to write ngl, leggy is such an oblivious softie I love.

You had been traveling along with the Fellowship since your departure from Rivendell not even four weeks ago. But even so, time had not seemed so very long for you anyways. This whole adventure began when Gandalf sent word to your kingdom calling for your aid in an important mission of sorts, as per usual the old wizard was very vague in his brief explanations. But you’ve known him for such a long time that whenever he needs you, it’s usually very important. So you traveled many days to Rivendell where you met up with your other longtime friend Aragorn who has been traveling in the wilds since you last saw him, now looking incredibly less dirty if you may add.

It was a curious thing when you were gathered into a secret meeting where low and behold sat the one ring of all objects to grace your very eyes. Your inquisitive gaze scanned the open room as Lord Elrond spoke of the ring and who would be the one to help destroy it. You sat idly by the young hobbit Frodo, who Gandalf explained was the carrier of the one ring from all the way into the Shire to where he sits now. What a brave little fellow you thought. Directly in front of you from across the room sat Aragorn who was looking at the ring with a troublesome gaze upon his worried features.

 It was not until Boromir spoke did you realize the Prince of the Woodland Realm was among you. You didn’t exactly take the time to look at everyone sitting around the half circle when you got here, but your face softened the moment they locked eyes onto the attractive elven prince. You’d never met Legolas before, but you’ve heard about him through Aragorn and Elrond when he decided to vent about the dealings with Legolas’ kingdom. From that very moment you became immensely intrigued and drawn to the silver haired prince. Though your heart did leap when yourself and all of the Fellowship began the long journey to Mordor, you felt relieved and excited to be spending such a long time with Legolas. But as the weeks grew on, your feelings only grew stronger, and one night while on watch with Aragron, as the two of you sat away from the rest of your sleeping companions did you finally break your silence. 

“I must confess something to you or I fear it will eventually drive me mad. It concerns the likes of the only other elf among us, which I assume you’ve already guessed.” You begin with a sigh as you glance over to Aragorn for a moment, his eyes soften at this news that has been swirling within your mind for many days.

“What troubles you my friend?”

“My heart grows for the prince in a way that I did not expect. I enjoy his presence, the way he speaks, how he carries himself, his smile...and for that I cannot help it when I keep close to him while we travel.”

“I have noticed your longing eyes upon him, it is sweet.”

“In all my five-thousand years in this land, not once have I ever felt this way towards anyone. I cannot explain it Aragorn, it feels so strange...this feeling for him. So very strange.” Your brow furrows as you look off into the valley, Aragorn lends you a small smile though you don’t see it.

“My dear Y/N, I believe what you are experiencing is called love, well at least in human terms for that matter. I am happy for you, truly.” You turn your uneasy gaze to Aragorn, surprised to find him sharing a small smile with you. You turn your head towards the stars, closing your eyes as you feel a comforting breeze blow through your half braided hair. 

“Your words are kind indeed, but I cannot tell if he feels the same in anyway.....that is what scares me.”

“Let him know of your admiration in subtle ways, he should figure it out eventually. I know Legolas, Y/N, he is smart and sharp as the edge of a dagger.”

For the next week you thought hard about your conversation with Aragorn that night, so as the days rolled past and the nights came and went, you stayed at a healthy closeness to the prince and seeked his company in quiet moments when the Fellowship was at rest. To your great astonishment, Legolas deemed you quit comforting and unexpectedly full of good humor as well as kind-hearted and protective over the hobbits. You had more then once caught him staring at you when he thought you weren't looking, it always brought a warm smile to your face. But nothing more was said or done and your painfully obvious attraction towards Legolas was becoming increasingly more entertaining for Aragorn, within the daily trials of continuous walking and watching out for the hobbits and evil creatures alike. He truly felt for you and your internal frustration with these newly intense feelings for someone that you had never felt before. He understood that as an elf, when they fall in love, they fall with all of their heart and soul for whoever graces their path. 

The Fellowship had stopped for a small break after a long and tiresome hike up a large rocky hill for the past two hours, you practically had to carry Pippin up the last fifteen minutes of rough trailing just to make sure everyone was together at the top. Not even five peaceful minutes of rest could you have before Merry and Pippin were already forcing you into a game of who can throw a rock the farthest over the cliff. Not one to ever decline such an appealing invitation, you oblige and walk over to the cliff edge while the rest of the Fellowship watches in amusement. You chuck a fist sized rock into oblivion, unbeknownst to you from a spot higher up on the rocky edge, Aragorn has walked over to Legolas, deciding to figure out his elven friends innermost feelings.

“Y/N is a fascinating being isn’t she, I’ve never seen someone so willing to join in on the games of hobbits, her heart is kind, she’s good company.” Starts Aragorn as Legolas shifts his eyes from him and back to you again, the ghost of a smile forming onto his lips.

“I’m actually quite fond of her presence...it has surprised me.”

“Oh?” Wonders Aragorn with a knowing look that’s lost to Legolas as his attention is fixated on you and the two hobbits. 

“Yes. I did not expect to enjoy her company so much. Not ever have I met someone so unawares to how truly divine and clever they are...or beautiful.” Explains Legolas as he whispers the last part, its so quite that Aragorn almost misses it but he does not and a small laugh escapes him. Legolas abruptly turns to his friend, his expression a mix of embarrassment and slight dejection. 

“I do not laugh at your tellings my friend, if only Y/N new. She would be very pleased to hear this I’m certain.” Replies Aragorn with a nod, Legolas’ brow furrows in deep thought.

“What do you mean?” He questions, confused as to what Aragorn is implying.

“Have you not noticed? She feels much for you in these past weeks of our journey. Y/N has given you a place in her heart, do you understand my meaning now?” 

Legolas’ face changes to a new realization as he slowly turns his head to a smiling Aragorn, “Y/N loves me? I thought it was only I who felt that way, how could I have missed it?” He says astonished as his face breaks out into a beaming grin. “She loves me. Y/N loves me. This day has been weary and long, but my heart leaps with this news. I will tell her tonight when we rest for the day, I only hope that she will be just as joyous, even with my lack of a gift.”

“I don’t believe she’ll mind. Just knowing you feel the same should suffice.” Adds Aragorn with a friendly pat to Legolas’ shoulder, he flashes him a quick smile before staring at you adoringly once again. 

[vicecityhq]

██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...

WITNESS(ES) SAY HE REMINDS THEM OF: the gentle tinkering of a screwdriver, gentle clicks of a keyboard, a hard face with a soft demeanor, planning a dnd game night, glasses perched all the way against the bridge of your nose. . With a slight resemblance to KIM MIN-SEOK ( Xiumin ) of/the EXO.

CLICK BELOW TO VIEW ENTIRE FILE.

FULL FILE:

Last Name, First Name: Noe Hyunjae Alias: Abraxas Realm of birth (if earth, nationality): Agdoeg, South Korea Age: 31 Date of Birth: April 10th, 1990 Gender: Cismale Preferred Pronouns: He/Him Species: Gumiho/Cyborg Lv1 1 Occupation: Chaebol & G.H.O.S.T. Medical Tech Sexual Orientation:  Heterosexual Associated businesses: 

VISUAL FILE:

Skin Color: Warm ivory undertones, tans to a golden hue Eye color: Hickory brown but can appear caramel depending on the light [reference] Scars:  Obviously has scarring on his right shoulder from the burns that resulted in amputation as well as surgical scars near the socket from the procedure. Piercings:  Left ear - lobe, upper lobe, industrial. Right ear - lobe, upper lobe, and double helix. Wears mainly simple studs or barbells in silver or black metallic. His siblings have gifted him various shaped and coloured acrylic studs, mainly with a star/celestial motif. Doesn’t wear anything that dangles or has a noticeable weight. Used to have a spider bite lip piercing. Tattoos:  A star chart map on his left pectoral [ reference ] each full circle corresponds to each of his siblings, including his, with his mother’s in the innermost circle and his father’s chart filling in the rest of the map. A geometric solar system along his inner left arm [ reference ]. His G.H.O.S.T. barcode is hidden in plain sight, on his cybernetic forearm, etched into the mechanical parts. Hair color:  Naturally dark auburn [ reference ] but is known to bleach and dye it various shades from ash blond to near black, keeping to the warm red tones. Abnormalities:  When his emotions run particularly high, his eyes seem to immolate with a spectral gold fire, regardless of form. Horns/ wings/ etc: Transformed form:  Has a cross fur pattern when in fox form [ reference ] and 6 tails.

PERSONAL FILE:

RELIGIOUS BELIEF: Spiritual but does not adhere to a specific organized religion

SINS:  greed  /  gluttony  /  sloth  /  lust  /  pride  /  envy  /  wrath

VIRTUES: chastity  /  charity  /  diligence  /  humility /  patience /  justice / temperance

KNOWN LANGUAGES: Korean, Japanese,  Cantonese, Mandarin, English, learning Thai

SECRETS: When they were young children, he had asked Sypha Jeup to marry him when they got older, but he’s sure she’s forgotten about that.

SAVVIES: Tinkering - Whenever he’s using a device, he finds himself getting lost in ideas of how to improve it. If given enough time, he’ll have fabricated a prototype out of scraps and begun tests, This has led to some interesting gadgets such as the God Furby. Tactician - Having always been drawn to strategy games and finding satisfaction in impeccable resource management systems, his mind has become used to viewing life as a series of cause and effect with the goal being to navigate those choices to achieve a flawless outcome.

Powers & Abilities: Dokkaebi Physiology, Sleep-paralysis Inducement, Supernatural Beauty, Possession, Shape-shifting, Illusion Manipulation, Insanity Inducement, Dream Manipulation, Nine-Tailed Fox Physiology

Traits:  Responsible, good humoured, intuitive, fierce, relentless,  vindictive,  manipulative

BACKGROUND CHECK:

Date of Birth: April 10th, 1990

Date of Death: N/A

Crime Record:  Officially spotless, but it's easy to control the narrative when you had a hand in installing and maintaining their databases.

Background/Biography:  tw: arson, amputation, gun violence, surgery

Heavy should’ve been the head that held the crown, however that burden was not meant for Hyunjae to handle alone. The love Noe Seokbin had for his wife ran deep and bore many fruit, and Hyunjae soon found himself surrounded by siblings in a house just large enough to hold their laughter. He took to the role of eldest brother as if he was born for it, always there to clean and bandage a scrape, pass the controller to when the boss was just too tough, and keep secrets from mom and dad. His father didn’t have to guide or control him as Hyunjae developed into the spitting image of the Noe patriarch, responsible, good natured, with his own hunger to master any technology he could get his hands on.

 And then their home was set ablaze in 2008. Hyunjae was the first to notice that they were a head short and he ran back into the building before anyone could stop him. He knew where Haemasu liked to hide, call it a big brother instinct, and used his arm to prop up a burning beam so the youngest could escape the inferno. He only collapsed on the lawn once he saw their mother clutching the baby of the family, knowing everyone was finally safe. The decision to amputate his son’s arm was not made lightly, Seokbin knew that there was a chance Hyunjae would never regain full functionality, even with the advancements made in prosthetics as complications could always happen. The paperwork was signed the night Hyunjae’s anesthesia wore thin for only a few moments, watching his son screaming his throat bloody in agony was convincing enough. When Hyunjae awoke after the procedure, he blankly stared at the space his arm used to be before asking after his siblings.

 The process of relearning how to operate with his non-dominant hand was long, but Hyunjae was always a dutiful student. Over time, the family noticed subtle but ever growing changes to Hyunjae’s prosthetic, the hard plastic fingers gaining more dexterity and accuracy with every passing iteration. Seokbin confirmed his suspicion by catching Hyunjae late one night, awkwardly using his left hand and teeth to modify his own arm. They reviewed the shakily drafted schematic and began building Hyunjae a proper arm together. Each version remained rather rudimentary and always had some tactile hurdle it couldn’t overcome. It was only when a budding cybernetics company looking for investors caught his father’s attention that real progress was made and Hyunjae’s arm became the company’s first major unveiling.

Through the trials and research, Hyunjae caught a taste for electrical and biomedical engineering and his academic path was set. He refused to rely on his name and legacy to achieve his accolades and sought his doctorate in secret. Balancing the demands of the blinding spotlight, thriving business, and academic bureaucracy with incredible time management and copious caffeine. He saw the scope of the cybernetics field to be too small, settling on limb replacement and tools for physical therapy and assistance, when it held so much more potential. The entire organ harvesting and transplant system could be upended, and should be revolutionized in order to meet the desperate demand. So he built lungs and kidneys from wires and sterilized metals, proving the concept but always looking towards replicating the heart and dreaming of augmenting the brain.

Much like how his father caught him tinkering well into the night, Hyunjae lingered in the shadows beyond Seokbin’s office door, overhearing a warning that threatened the very foundation of the city. He knew of the Noe and Jeup’s tumultuous history from his grandmother and her terrible bedtime stories, but that was all he thought of them as, simply stories from generations ago. Their fathers acted as opposite ends of a bridge between their families now, and Hyunjae remembered being told to watch over the Jeup children as he would his own siblings. Hyunjae confronted his father behind closed doors and accepted his cautious and patient approach. If the Jeup’s were so entwined with the bleeding underbelly of the city, it was best to appear unassuming, amass their allies silently and prepare for when they needed to go hunting. The Noe never lit the match, but they would control the fire.

Hyunjae found himself staring into the reflective abyss of Agdeog’s criminal scene, the random violence that consumed the city focusing into tendrils of a writhing, feeding monstrosity. Each act connected by thin strings of causality, and more and more of them vanished into the void surrounding the Jeup patriarch. With the scent of blood coating his tongue, he grasped a crimson stained thread and tugged. Much like his father, he was visited by a figure at his lab and expected a similar warning, instead finding himself mulling over an interesting proposal. The Veil’s cause resonated with Hyunjae’s sense of justice and so he submerged himself into the chaos, distancing himself from his siblings so they wouldn’t be caught in his wake. The group had the best intentions, but lacked the means or the ambition to actually do anything substantial. Hyunjae became an increasing voice and call to action as he rose through the ranks, navigating the battlegrounds with careful words to soothe emblazoned egos much like his father would negotiate among salivating businessmen. Millimeters of progress were finally being made, but it all unraveled when Hyunjae chose his family over everything else.

Having his baby sister, Dalnim, on his operating table broke something in him. All that careful patience was worth nothing when he was coated up to his elbows in her blood, holding her heart that fluttered weakly around the bullet lodged inside its ventricles. He worked tirelessly through the night, giving her his life’s work, needing it to give him back his sister. As the metal valves expanded, the mechanisms hummed as Dalnim’s pulse returned. Wracked with exhaustion, drenched in sweat and blood, he collapsed beside the table, clutching her hand until she squeezed his back. The next few days were spent carefully monitoring her, both to allow her to recover from such a traumatic event but to also keep her close in case of complications. When they both emerged from his lab, the world had shifted.

 The city was in a state of shock, unaware of how deep the scars would run from the carnage that unfolded. “Cut off the heads,” He remembered saying the words among the Veil, but that’s all they were supposed to be, words, an idea. It wasn’t meant to be a plan. It was a last resort, a way to knock the chessboard over when everything else failed. There was too much chaos, coursing anger, and bad blood infecting the veins of the city for something so brash to ever work. As the Veil faded into the mists, he watched the new generation step into their shadowed thrones, a hunger stoked by opportunity thick on their tongues. Whispers of Jeup's involvement with the Nightbloods reached him and Hyunjae knew he had to act before the noose around Agdeog grew too tight.

 G.H.O.S.T was founded under the promise of one thing, to control the uncontrollable. The city could not survive another war, and Hyunjae was going to ensure that it never would have to. Learning from the mistakes of the Veil, he selectively collected his allies in secret, knowing that if the gangs caught wind of a growing power they wouldn’t be able to help themselves and cannibalize the city in an effort to maintain rule over the ashes. He was patient and cautious, careful to not make any waves as the pieces slowly set themselves into place. Then his parents disappeared and the priorities shifted once again. He let his siblings bark and gnash their teeth, accusations flying as unanswered questions continued piling up. The goals of the Noe family and of G.H.O.S.T blending and blurring into the same: vengeance.

 Sangje challenging his leadership was not surprising, but the true pain came from watching the faith in him vanish in each of his siblings as they casted their votes. He maintained his composure as he passed the torch to his younger brother, bitterly swallowing the betrayal so that it could melt away in the acids of his stomach. They could sit in the seat he built, order the allies he secured, but they could never replace him as their elder brother.

INTERVIEW QUESTION (para sample): “Just run us through what happened that night”. - Officer

The bowtie around his neck was too tight.

Mingling under the crystal chandeliers of the Jeup estate, Hyunjae gave easy smiles and sweet words to anyone he came across, having the tact to attempt to appear equally invested. Sharply manicured nails occasionally dug into the jacket of his tuxedo, the brazen ones reaching up to try and swipe at his skin with some wafer thin excuse. The cost of being a generous benefactor was that everyone was hungry for a piece, even if the spotlight preferred to illuminate the illicit and scandalous affairs of the middle Jeup. Slipping away from glittery claws, he found himself at a balcony, watching the wind play among the leaves in a garden. He could almost hear the excited yips from a cluster of fox pups weaving between the bushes from deep in his memory.

“What happened that night?” Hyunjae turned, regarding the approaching police chief with a neutral expression, flicking through the possibilities and implications of the question. “At the gala, you excused yourself from the festivities rather abruptly.”

Hyunjae wore an easy smile, providing body language that would placate the man, “Nothing very exciting, I assure you. A business partner had not accounted for the time difference and requested a meeting. I didn’t think I would be missed once the silent auction was over.”

Satisfied with that answer, the two exchanged their pleasantries and went their separate ways. Hyunjae noted the eruption of raucous laughter carrying from the open doorway and wondered what headline that would create for tomorrow.

[obeymeluv]

Cupid’s Bow - Asmodeus

This is what I needed the love songs for :) The song lyrics are in bold/italic. I used “Something So Beautiful” by Yongzoo, and it’s super cute. I think you should listen to it at least once!

Have a sappy, magical confession!

I hope you like it! It’s my first major Asmo piece :o 

RAD was in an absolute uproar. This week was a literal once-a-year event and Asmo wouldn’t miss out. He couldn’t! That would just be heartbreaking to the general public, honestly. The fifth-born was up almost inconceivably early—earlier than his routine usually demanded! It pained him to be anything less than perfect but he could forgive himself this once (his skin was to die for on any day, makeup or not).

Rumor had it that Diavolo bought enough Cupid’s Bow for the entire academy but Asmodeus wouldn’t leave it to chance. These blossoms were one of the most finicky breeds in all of the Devildom, sought out for their magical properties and uncanny ability to detect soulmates. They were nurtured meticulously, religiously bred, and highly regarded for the enchanting aroma they emitted when they bloomed.

If they bloomed.

Though rare, some poor souls never got theirs to open and had to wait another year. That’s why Asmo never purchased one in his hundreds of years alive. Some small part of him, the part that worried he’d never find true love due to the burden and weakness of being the Avatar of Lust, was always afraid he’d end up with a lump of heart-shaped petals. He’d rather have fun in the moment, fill the desirous ache with teeth and tongues and Demonus.

Despite the ungodly hour and the fact that he flew over, there were easily forty people between him and the stacks of flowers. He couldn’t bring himself to admire the flowered vines crawling up the stand and supporting the sign, or how RAD seemed to be a bit greener as if to set the mood. Asmodeus’ lips twisted up in a grateful smile as he thanked whatever luck existed in the Devildom that no one felt like talking. Sure, there were murmurs of ‘perfect spots’ and who so-and-so planned to give the flower to, but he refused to hear any of it right now.

He couldn’t, really. His heart was in a giddy flutter, bouncing against his ribs and stirring up the warmth that made standing in the early morning chill of the Devildom more bearable.

The rose hit his hand and Asmo gripped it like his life depended on it. His first instinct was to jet back to the house but the sheer delicacy of the bud was enough to stop him in his tracks. The realization of its frailness, the fact that he’d only get one, lanced across him like a celestial blade.

It made him flinch, and he was surprised to feel it. His hand shook around the thorn-studded stem. Asmodeus calmed his wildly beating heart with a single breath, charming his way out of the line. His red-yellow eyes could just make out the House of Lamentation in the distance.

Now, how to offer it to you?

Human world soil had long since lost the ability to grow Cupid’s Bow. He wasn’t sure if it was a lack of magical caretakers, the inability to enchant the soil, or the fact that the human world no longer supported magic. No one on earth seemed to know what the Cupid’s Bow was anymore. The idea of presenting flowers to loved ones—and the fact that flowers had meanings—was all that remained of the tradition (centuries of bad translations, destroyed books, and eroded pictograms didn’t help anything.)

This was something you’d see once in your life (unless the exchange program was renewed and you came back next year!) It had to be special. As the Avatar of Lust and leading expert on anything relationship related, Asmodeus would be doing you a disservice if he didn’t plan the perfect reveal!

But what if it didn’t open when he handed it to you? He couldn’t bear the thought! Asmodeus had been in absolute agony—nearly sick—about how to confess to you. Had been for a while. Part of him was worried he was reading into things, seeing what he wanted to see, but another part of him knew that you felt the same way.

He could prove it with a pact but didn’t want to cheat like that. Pacts allowed the bonded pair to share emotions; if he stayed on the bond plane long enough your emotions would become his own. Asmodeus would get an idea of your innermost feelings. As tempting as the idea was, he didn’t want to risk the gaping, cold nothingness he’d surely feel if you considered him anything but someone you loved romantically. Several of his brothers were surprised to hear he hadn’t made a pact with you yet, but he always gave the same excuse of Solomon being demanding.

Asmodeus had been alive for a long time, and his list of lovers was even longer. Being the Avatar of Lust meant he spent a fair time courting and every date he’d been on was unique. He’d never repeated a date (not every detail, at least). This would be no exception. He slipped into the House of Lamentation, Cupid’s Bow held out at arm’s length so it would be the first thing to enter the protections.

That wouldn’t protect it from one of his brothers but it was away from the outside and that’s what mattered. Silverware tinkled in the distance, Beelzebub and Lucifer setting the table for breakfast. Should he hand it to you at breakfast, when everyone was present and make them absolutely sick with jealousy?

Very, very tempting! Then he could brag about it to the school! Maybe even get picked up by Majolish! After all, it would be crazy rare to have one of the two exchange students as his fated betrothed. To know would set him free and give him bliss he hadn’t experienced since his first feeding as the Avatar of Lust, but was it really good enough?

Couples shared their Cupid’s Bow stories for centuries, passing it down like a family heirloom. An impatient breakfast proposal seemed very lackluster, given his reputation. He’d been torturing himself for months, what was one more day? Asmodeus hadn’t even realized he’d started up the stairs towards your room until Lucifer squeezed gently on his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“You’re bleeding,” the eldest frowned. Something was clearly amiss if perfect Asmodeus was letting himself bleed. The prick of pain turned into a burrowing sting as he looked at the thorn embedded in his palm. Drops of blood ran along the lines of his soft hand and down his wrist. Lucifer didn’t have to ask what was wrong, the flower was enough of an answer. He was fairly certain it was the first time Asmodeus had bought one to give out but he dared not say it.

Lucifer could already see the ideas spinning in Asmodeus’ eyes. His little brother’s eyes grew pinker, an enchanting, luminous pink that was love itself. Their eyes tended to lose the gradient when swept up in the emotion of their sin. When it came to you, love and lust were the same for Asmodeus. The charm literally hummed in Asmodeus’ veins; Lucifer could feel it pulsing in his wrist.

It was a persistent, almost anxious feeling. One begging him to bound up the stairs and into your room. To throw himself at your feet or into your arms and all that you were. “Smaller ambitions are still noble,” Lucifer cautioned as he ran his thumb across the wound to lay a thin sheet of healing magic. Asmodeus could hardly remember when Lucifer last touched him without gloves, heart stuttering at the comforting but nervous squeeze.

Asmodeus was very much a ‘go big or go home’ type, and he knew Lucifer was afraid of him falling too far. They had fallen too far once, and it cost them dearly. Some of them had never really healed. He was afraid of that, himself.

The grand vision of you in a diaphanous dress of his own design, sitting pretty on a picnic blanket before a Devilgram-worthy spread of delicate treats as he presented the rose was dashed by cold dread. Suddenly the idea of waking you up from a dream wasn’t so bad. He wouldn’t be out a lot of money and he could wallow in shame from the comfort of his room if things went wrong.

It won’t go wrong, something soothed him. It swept throughout his body, a strangely familiar tide. Some omnipotent whisper…the remains of something he’d lost when he fell from the Celestial Realm. Emboldened, Asmodeus swept up the stairs and knocked on your door.

He felt like he was floating. Maybe he was just light-headed from holding his breath? Asmodeus heard your sleepy invitation, opening the door to see you twisted in the sheets and struggling to sit up. His heart broke free of the stranglehold, bumping up to his tongue and shaking the knot loose. Asmodeus poured his heart out.

A genuine, soft ramble. An honest soliloquy. It was like the first record of love itself, something that would leave Helen of Troy, Guinevere, and Cleopatra wanting. The sheer joy of your undivided attention almost caused him to bite his tongue. Somehow, he persisted. “People think that I cannot love, being the Avatar of Lust, and I spent centuries believing them. Living up to the expectation of flings and everything lust means…it wasn’t until I met you that I knew I was capable of love. Real love.”

You were so red you thought you’d pass out. Asmo gave you a dazzling smile and you were surprised to see he had dimples. “As a token of this love, I ask that you take this flower. It is a flower borne from the seeds of fate itself.” Asmodeus held the rose out to you, turning it slightly so you’d grab a thorn-free piece.

He didn’t know if he wanted to explode or puke.

All he really wanted was for you to grab the damn flower (and see it open).

“What is it?” your nail scraped the stem. You hesitated, not knowing if you could trust it. Was it really just a flower? Would it bite you? Asmodeus wanted to whine, to shove it into your hand. It wouldn’t react if you didn’t grab it for real!

At some point he’d dropped to one knee. Was it to stop the shaking or even out the height difference? “Cupid’s Bow,” Asmodeus fluffed his bangs and brushed them to the side, “Fate’s Flower. This flower blooms once a year, lasts for a week, and only opens when given to you by your soulmate.”

Could he love you so deeply? Flowers say a lot, but to think one like this existed!

“Take it,” he insisted with twinkling eyes, almost begging. “Take it and see that I love you.”

You grabbed the flower, fingers bumping and brushing Asmodeus’. His lips skated across your knuckle. A gasp escaped you as the flower unfurled into several rows of dainty, heart-shaped petals. The flower opened into a gradient of blood red, vibrant orange, and delicate peach. Asmodeus squealed with delight, scooping you up in a whirl of limbs and love.

He pressed you close, cradled your adoringly.

A warbling growl-screech followed. You could feel the sound bouncing in his chest but couldn’t quite hear it. It was something only a demon’s tongue could make, a sound meant for non-humans.

“Red for love and beauty,” Asmo’s kisses were hungry and sloppy. Your brain was so numbed by the onslaught you could barely hear him; you tasted the smile on his lips and it made your heart sing. “Orange for desire and fascination, because you are unlike any other my lips have touched.” your back hit the bed; Asmo knocked a shuddering breath out of you as he pressed kisses to your throat. “And peach for appreciation. Sealing the deal, if you will…” he said the last part with a purr.

Your body throbbed, the wash of euphoria dimming to an expectant pulse when he took his lips away. His tail flicked behind him excitedly, horns casting shadows on your face as the tips glowed a pinkish-red. He laced your fingers together, the flower trapped between them.

Darling, come on over and take my hand. I will show you that I'm you're man. Is that okay?

Never-ending, I'm extending both of my arms and my heart belongs to you

What a sight, what a view when I'm looking at you! Like I'm seeing the sky for the very first time, and I want you to know that I've never seen something so beautiful!

“Is that…music?”

“Cupid’s Bows are supposed to make for the perfect moment!” Asmo winked at you, his free hand slipping under your back to hold you close. “This is the song of your soul…the song that represents what you feel for your partner. The fragrance is something unique to each person, a smell that makes them happy. Some historians think it’s the original love chemical!” he gushed.

“That’s highly debated, of course.” Asmodeus looked over his shoulder to see Satan and the others standing in the doorway. Right…he used the ‘announcement’ noise. He hadn’t meant for them to crash this moment, he was just so excited when the flower opened that it slipped out!

Asmo rolled over in a slow, fluid motion and sat up with a smug smile. “The human is mine!” he cheered, absolutely glowing as you showed them the open flower. It was met with various reactions and he ate that up, too.

Lucifer smirked, fixing his cuff and glove with an interested look. “Lord Diavolo will enjoy this news, I’m sure.”

“A merger is a merger, however it happens. I doubt he intended to bond the realms this way.” Satan rubbed his chin.

“A merger? What are you—”

“Those flowers are like the Devildom version of a wedding ring. An eternal promise.” Satan explained. “It’s hard to find people who don’t get married after a Cupid’s Bow opens for them.”

“Married?!”

“Married!” Asmo breathed dreamily, taking a photo he would cherish for the rest of his life. The flower would wilt and turn black in a week but he would remember it forever. He shooed everyone out to help you get ready for school, holding your hands in his when all was said and done. Asmo gazed upon you reverently, kissing your forehead. “I love you always.”        

[davidmann95]

For definitely no reason whatsoever, in response to nothing specific, can you rank the DC Multiverse Earths and tell us a bit about why each is in its place on the list?

Were this in response to an article, I could assure that I generally enjoy the writer’s output perfectly well from what I’ve seen and was absolutely baffled by the bizarrely selective research that went into it. Anyway, I hope you feel guilty enabling the amount of work I put into this truly ridiculous task by the end.

Cliff notes for the relatively uninitiated: that gorgeous monstrosity up above is The Map Of The Multiverse from the miniseries Multiversity, presented as a series of concentric circles bordered by the ‘Overvoid’ that all of reality is suspended in (and framed in such a way as to make clear it is the white of the pages comics are printed on). You go inwards from the borders of creation - moving moreso with each sphere from abstraction to the realm of the physical - to the Monitor Sphere in which once lived the near-omnipotent, now nearly extinct Monitor race that observed and maintained the multiverse, into the Sphere of Gods where the various beings of myth and divinity dwell, and into the innermost sphere where ‘we’ live. The 52 Earths you see within aren’t the whole of the multiverse but the ‘local’ 52 worlds, with infinite other Earths dwelling in their own dimensional pockets; all these universes actually exist in the same three-dimensional space at the same time but suspended in a higher-dimensional substance called ‘the Bleed’, and vibrating at distinct frequencies. Also there’s a ‘Dark Multiverse’ that’s cosmologically speaking ‘beneath’ the map, disintegrating half-formed potential realities that new proper universes are culled from. There’s a lot more to it than even all of that, but that’s enough to explain what’s up with these.

My ranking here is obviously subjective, but mostly comes down to a mix of ‘how cool is this Earth’, ‘how much would this Earth be worth using again’, ‘how well does it work in the context of being part of a shared multiverse’, and ‘do I seriously see creators unearthing any of this Earth’s potential down the road’. Also, Earths 24, 27, 28, 46, and 49 aren’t here, as they’re among the 7 Unknown Earths on the map that were left behind for future creators to define; 14 and apparently 25 have since been revealed.

64. Earth 14

A worthy bottom-place entry, Earth 14 is at the top of the Multiverse Map, and is shown as physically different from the other Earths, seemingly vibrating as if in two places at once; map co-designer and illustrator Rian Hughes suggested in an interview the intent was that this was where new universes entered the multiverse. Instead, ending up the first Unknown Earth to be revealed after the doors were opened to other creative teams, it was shown as a generic dystopian world home to a ‘Justice League of Assassins’ that were quickly dispatched by a generic cosmic threat. A monumental tribute to contextual ignorance and creative laziness.

63. Flashpoint

This is one of several Earths I’ll touch on that exist in neither the ‘local’ nor Dark Multiverse, but has directly crossed over or been framed in reference to the currently operating version of the DC Universe and so is probably worth a mention even if I’m not going over every Elseworlds and Imaginary Story DC has ever published. Another dystopian world, in this one an attempt by The Flash at fixing a change to history resulted in an Earth torn apart by war between Aquaman and Wonder Woman, where Cyborg was America’s greatest hero and Kal-El was held captive his entire life in a military bunker rather than becoming Superman. Aside from the prospect of a Thomas Wayne who became Batman when Bruce was gunned down as a child rather than vice-versa - resulting in him being pulled into a recent Batman run after this worlds’ destruction, the reason for this Earth’s inclusion - absolutely nothing of value came of this or the stories tied into it, such that astonishingly in spite of being the impetus for one of the biggest DC reboots of all time with theoretically an entire revised history to play with, essentially no one cares about this anymore.

62. Earth 1

The site of DC’s standalone, bookstore-market oriented ‘Earth One’ graphic novels. The incredible tunnel vision of marketing these for that purpose with titles that exist in reference to their multiversal structure aside, the Green Lantern book is the only one of those I’ve heard about being even kind of good; the rest top out at an interesting failure in Wonder Woman, with a standard forgettable failure in Teen Titans and truly flabbergasting misfires in Superman and Batman. Even Multiverse Map co-designer and writer Grant Morrison described this Earth in a blurb as having a history ‘in flux’, implicitly permitting the reader to believe it’s something else if they really want to, but as it stands in spite of the theoretical wide-open possibilities the foundations have already been built on salted Earth.

61. Watchmen

Home to the cast of characters of Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ seminal miniseries. Crossed over with the DC Universe 30+ year later in Doomsday Clock, which clearly intended to set up this world as one ripe for future stories and development rather than a singular text, but instead misinterpreted, stripmined, and otherwise nuked essentially everything that might have had one interested in exploring it further in the first place (in spite of the source text’s very definitive conclusions to all major narrative threads and characters). The only reason this is not ranked even lower is the possibility that the upcoming, as-yet untitled Watchmen project by Tom King and Jorge Fornes might manage to dredge something out of this.

60. Earth Negative 11

The first of the Dark Multiverse Earths here, a gender-flipped Earth where Bryce Wayne generically altered herself into an Atlantean in order to do battle with Aquawoman and the forces of Atlantis. As the Dark Multiverse worlds we have seen thus far are described as being borne of Bruce Wayne’s fears, it’s odd that as opposed to the ‘want of a nail’ scenarios shown on all others, this includes the additional twist of making Bruce a woman, yet does nothing with that. Anyway, this is a very clear product of the Dark Multiverse’s debut in Dark Nights: Metal wanting an evil Batman to correspond to each member of the Justice League, and it’s the oddest, most perfunctory of the lot.

59. Earth 34

Home to the heroes of the Light Brigade, defenders of Cosmoville, this is an Earth meant to evoke the classic creator-owned superhero comic Astro City. However, as Astro City is itself made up of archetypal signifiers yet isn’t meta about its usage of them, being defined by its storytelling principles rather than the shared universe it builds up in the background, there are essentially no stories to be told here that couldn’t be told with the regular heroes of the DC universe. Which is a shame, those are some neat character designs.

58. Earth Negative 12

A Dark Multiverse Earth where believing Wonder Woman killed in a battle with the war god Ares, Batman took up the deity’s helm in hopes of redefining war, instead being corrupted by it and becoming an unstoppable monster. There’s basically nothing here.

57. Earth Negative 44

A Dark Multiverse Earth where a computer program meant to replicate Alfred after the butler’s untimely death, attempting to protect its charge, takes control of Batman by way of mechanizing him and turns Gotham into a digital nightmare. A little more on-point than the previous entry, but still not much here.

56. Earth Negative 22

A Dark Multiverse Earth where Batman is finally pushed into killing the Joker, but the Clown Prince of Crime secretes a particularly potent Joker Toxin upon his death that corrupts the Caped Crusader into a second Joker known as The Batman Who Laughs, who slaughters his way across his universe before ultimately making his way to the ‘main’ DCU. The prospect of a Batman/Joker combination is interesting, but an origin for the ultimate corrupted Batman ‘he got drugged into going bad’ falls short.

55. Earth Negative 32

A Dark Multiverse Earth where Bruce Wayne moments after his parents’ deaths was judged worthy of a Green Lantern ring, but having only his hatred of crime rather than the discipline and morality he would come to develop becomes the murderous terror of the underworld, with even the Corps unable to stop him when he manages to force the darkness of his heart through the ring into ‘dark constructs’. Another ultimately throwaway Earth, this at least illustrates the properties of the Dark Multiverse in an interesting way: the constructs he creates aren’t something that’s ever been indicated as being possible or even sensible with the ‘real’ Green Lantern, but as this is a world literally made of nightmares that’s irrelevant.

54. Earth 39

Home to the United Nations superspies the Agents of W.O.N.D.E.R., who operating using super-technology with eventually deleterious side-effects. A pastiche of the obscure T.H.U.N.D.E.R. Agents, it’s hard to imagine anyone with much to say about them wouldn’t simply wish to write an actual comic about them under the current rights-holders, though the concepts described in Morrison’s provided information are enticing.

53. Earth 41

A riff on several of the superheroes published by Image Comics over the years, they’re worth having around for the occasional heroes of the multiverse groupshots for your big crossover comics and Dino-Cop turned out to be charming, but it’s doubtful someone with a big Spawn story in them for instance would use Spore as their outlet.

52. Earth 9

All I know about this is that this is a ‘what if superheroes really changed the world’ Earth, and when those are a dime a dozen, the additional conceits of the names of the various characters not at all corresponding to their traditional backstories and attributes, and being the brainchild of creator Dan Jurgens, are far from enough to sway me. I understand there are some fans out there who may heartily disagree, to be fair.

51. Earth Negative 52

Another Dark Multiverse throwaway Earth, this time one where a Batman shattered by losing his various partners taps into the Speed Force so that he can finally be everywhere at once to stop all crime. This is distinct however in that he achieves this by defeating The Flash, chaining him to the hood of the Batmobile, and driving it so fast their atoms explode and merge, which is thoroughly rad and gets it big-time bonus points next to its contemporaries.

50. Earth 37

An Earth based on the DC works of creator Howard Chaykin, its conceit of being a world that progressed technologically far faster than our world but culturally remains decades behind us is interesting, but I’m not much of a fan of his work that I’ve read and most of what’s been drawn upon here doesn’t seem to have much of a following.

49. Earth 30

The world of Superman: Red Son, where Kal-L landed in the Ukraine and grew up to become leader of a global Soviet Union, before realizing he had deformed humanity’s development and faking his death. Leaving Earth in the hands of a Lex Luthor who while still very much a bastard found public approval in America for fighting Superman, Lex ultimately led Earth into a utopia that over time fell into complacency and became its universe’s version of Krypton, Jor-L (Luthor’s distant descendant) and Lara sending their baby back in time to survive and establishing a predestination loop. While several elements of the DC Universe are present in a limited capacity that could in theory be expanded on, Superman and Wonder Woman are the only superheroes of long-term note and both their stories are very much concluded, seemingly leaving little to do here except have the Superman with the hammer and sickle logo show up in event comics.

48. Earth 6

The world of the Just Imagine Stan Lee Created The DC Universe series, where the father of the Marvel Universe rebuilt several DC figureheads from the name and a few pieces of imagery up. The results were mixed at best, but a series of gorgeous artists involved in the projects mean the characters certainly look interesting even if it’s hard to imagine creators going back here in any meaningful capacity.

47. Earth Negative 1

A Dark Multiverse world where Superman turned on humanity for reasons unknown, and Batman deliberately infected himself with the ‘Doomsday Virus’ to gain the properties of the hulking monster and defeat his former friend. Now numbed to human emotion and vulnerability, this Batman hopes to spread the virus as to make humanity similarly indestructible, as well as shield them emotionally from what he has come to see as the false hope Superman represents. This Batman didn’t end up a major figure in the same way as The Batman Who Laughs, but the conceit is killer and I hope someone picks up on it one day.

46. Earth-52

A universe somewhere outside the local 52, a ‘remnant’ of sorts of the main DC universe circa 2011-2016 prior to cosmic revisions resulting in the current setup. A world where superheroes had emerged approximately 5 years earlier and home to lots of dudes in very dumb battle-armor, most fan-favorite stories from this era have been carried forward into the current history, and its unique version of Superman under Grant Morrison - a socialist crusader in a t-shirt and jeans who battled corrupt institutions and cosmic supervillainy in equal measure - was depicted as set loose from his world after 2016′s continuity changes as a defender of the multiverse. While a significant part of DC history both in-universe and publishing-wise, there wouldn’t seem to be all that much left here worth exploring.

45. Earth 2

A world where Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman alone represented the first wave of superheroes, they nobly fell in battle repelling an invasion of Earth by Darkseid. In time a new generation would emerge that were modernized, youthful iterations of the Justice Society of America, the superhero team predating the Justice League in DC’s publishing history. While the logline’s an interesting one and the successor to Superman Val-Zod debuted to some acclaim, for the most part this reinvention didn’t end up received well by either new or longtime fans, and a last-minute overhaul where this bunch was transplanted into a rebooted world without superheroes probably didn’t help. You still see them in crossovers and there are promising concepts, but this world seems basically dead.

44. Earth 50

When Lex Luthor ascended to the presidency and soon thereafter executed The Flash, Superman snapped, executed him, and took over the world alongside his allies as the Justice Lords, until they were ultimately overthrown by way of a parallel universe Justice League and a repentant Lord Batman. A Better World unequivocally rules, but given this is supposed to be those specific versions of the Lords rather than a new iteration, it’d be weird to see them up against any universe other than the DCAU. And, well...

43. Earth 12

The DCAU, currently world of Batman Beyond and a future Justice League. The DCAU, you may be aware, extremely rules, but is also somewhat redundant in this context - the ‘regular’ DCU already has all its core components without too much aesthetic differentiation, and there’s already frequently a Batman Beyond in the future of said universe. It has its unique attributes that make people love it, it’s cool that it’s here, but on the macro scale it’s too clean an adaptation to bring much to the table to crossovers and whatnot, and you’d never see any further stories told there otherwise as really being part of the DCU cosmic landscape so much as a comic tie-in to the TV show.

(Also it’s odd this is placed here with the Justice Lords Earth as if to go ‘it’s secretly been part of the 52 all along, you just never noticed when it only crossed over with the one other!’ when there were two other parallel universes in the DCAU.)

42. Earth 43

A nightmare world haunted by the once-heroic, now vampiric Blood League, the obvious potential would be for this world to function as DC’s equivalent to Marvel Zombies. Recently however DCeased has come to fill that position, and while this world in practice if not concept skews more closely towards that source material as the former heroes still have vestiges of their old personalities - in theory distinguishing it as its own spin worth keeping around - it’s hard to imagine most takes on ‘Justice League but monsters’ won’t come out under the DCeased banner for the foreseeable future.

41. Earth 40

A world of pulp villains made to oppose Earth 20, these guys are simple but a hoot.

40. Earth 35 aka the Pseudoverse

More analogues to analogues, this time of the Awesome Comics characters largely defined by Alan Moore in Supreme. This opens up the promising vista of ‘DC if it were designed by Alan Moore’, but in practice as demonstrated by his work with both DC and the analogues these mimic, that would just be...well, good DC comics, which you don’t need a whole extra universe for. The notion of this as a universe artificially created by Monitor ‘ideominers’ however both gives it a unique place in the multiverse, tackles its status as a pastiche in a unique way, and gets back to ideas of the power of imagination in both Supreme and Moore’s other works, so it’s likely there could be something to be done here.

39. Earth 11

A bit of a study in contradictions. This is seemingly a rather straightforward ‘gender swap’ Earth with Superwoman, Wonderous Man, and so forth. Also, its version of Star Sapphire implied it’s not subjected to constant crises in the same way as the main universe it mirrors, maintaining a greater degree of consistency in the process. At the same time however it’s mentioned that the Amazons rather than leaving Man’s World for Themyscira shared its technology and philosophy with the world, changing it forever, suggesting a far different world from what we’ve seen in glimpses here. Until it decides one way or another whether it’s a simple mirror to the regular DCU or a radically different take, it hovers in a state of uncertainty.

38. Earth-2 aka Earth Two

The original version of Earth-2, home to the DC Universe of the 1940s with aged versions of Superman and company and the original Justice Society of America. The first take on a DC universe that would progress in something resembling ‘real time’ rather than keeping the headliners as perpetual twenty-to-thirty-somethings, this was also the birthplace of heroes such as Power Girl and Huntress. I’m of the perhaps controversial opinion that this is a concept that was explored better in later takes: there’s a sense here that the largely forgotten follow-up generation eventually introduced, with the exception of the two heroes mentioned above, will never really matter in the same way as their still fully-active predecessors in spite of ostensibly taking over the family business, meaning you never quite actually get what you want here, which is to see a DC where things meaningfully change and move on - well into his middle age and his mentor’s death long behind him, Dick Grayson is still Robin. Add in the odd, ignominious demise of the original Batman and its Superman’s odd eventual fate - which slide from bizarre to intolerable if you accept the frequent implication that these are meant to be the original versions of them from the 1930s - and I can’t help but think the enjoyable high concept was never realized as well as it could be here.

37. Earth 4

The Earth of the characters of Charlton Comics who would go on to inspire Watchmen, this initially seemed like one of the most promising worlds after its debut in Pax Americana drew perhaps the most pronounced critical acclaim of any single issue in the past decade as the site for creators with something to say to work with Watchmen without actually touching that property. Now, however, Watchmen itself is in the mix: most wouldn’t reasonably go here while the material they’re truly referencing is now freely available (especially those simply wanting to draw fan attention by visibly playing with those toys, the way Earth 4 sidestepped) even though that world itself is now massively compromised past the original text, and with the ‘Watchmen Earth’ no longer an option and the characters themselves - if cleaned-up, more mainstream versions of them - existing in the DCU proper, this world’s role seems to have been largely stripped from it. I have to imagine there’s still potential here for those with the talent and commitment though.

36. Earth 44

A world where in the absence of natural superhuman beings, Doc Tornado created a Metal League of robot superheroes to protect the Earth. A promising concept definitely worth a few stories.

35. Earth 15

Once a perfect universe destroyed in a rampage by another Earth’s Superman, it was artificially reborn through the will of Countess Belzebeth - a cosmic vampire - as a copy of the Prime universe with the Green Lantern Corps replaced by Belzebeth’s despotic Blackstars, the uncertain and bitter heroes of this universe warped through the lens of Belzebeth’s perceptions of them had no chance against her forces. While its inhabitants are a bit samey what with all life having been subsumed into the diamond will of Blackstar Controller Mu, the idea of a conceptually weakened DCU being turned into an army against the rest of the multiverse makes for a terrific threat, and the prophecy of the ‘Cosmic Grail’ (a Green Lantern power battery lost somewhere in the multiverse) and that the First Lantern of the multiverse Volthoom hail from its original incarnation lend it some extra mythological weight.

34. Earth 32

A mashup world hosting the likes of the Justice Titans, Young Justice International, and the Doom Society. A world that’s home to Aquaflash will probably never have an ongoing all its own, but plenty of stories, miniseries, and even a brief line of comics have been based on mashup characters before, so there’s plenty of proof of concept for this being able to endure.

33. Earth 23

An Earth where Batman (naturally) is the only white guy on the Justice League, and Superman is not only President of the United States in his secret identity as Calvin Ellis, but the leader of the multiverse-spanning superteam Justice Incarnate. It reads like Morrison trying to do his idealized take on an ‘Ultimate DC’, a more diverse and politically engaged superhero landscape that doesn’t scale down its big ideas in turn, and if I were ranking it at the time it was introduced it would go much higher. The problem is that its version of Superman is modeled after Barack Obama, and that guy isn’t President anymore (and for that matter his legacy seems to grow more complicated by the year). As a result the vibe goes from triumphant to wistful mourning if not outright bitterly ironic, and that’s a needle that would have to be threaded before doing any substantial work here.

(Also, since several Justice Leaguers here rather than being made black are replaced with various black counterparts they’ve had over the years, that means Wonder Woman here is the 70s Amazon Nubia. And, uh, that name is something that would have to be...something.)

32. Earth 19

Steampunk superheroics; superhero period pieces are usually fun, and this is built on a foundation of pretty Mike Mignola art (though confession that I’ve never read Gotham By Gaslight), so sure, this one has potential.

31. Earth 18

Same as above but cowboys instead. This gets extra credit because cowboys mesh better with superhero conventions, and the additional twist of this world being frozen in history by the Time Trapper, forcing them to approximate modern technology with 19th century resources.

30. Earth 31

A post-apocalyptic waterworld where humanity is protected by Captain Leatherwing and assorted other pirate superheroes. Another ‘superheroes but in another genre’ setup, the post-apocalyptic, environmental twist makes it unfortunately more relevant than its peers, though I don’t think it’s quite the best end of the world as we know it on the list.

29. Earth 42

Home to the adorable, innocent world of the chibified Little League...secretly robots unwittingly enacting an endless stage play for the malevolent being known as the Empty Hand, running scenarios of his devising in preparation for a coming war with the rest of the multiverse. It’s a neat little multipurpose world, able to be played both as amusing contrast, or as parody whether light-hearted or cynical, in their endless ‘playtime’.

28. Earth 7

Formerly home to counterparts of the heroes of Earth 8, it was shattered by the Empty Hand’s forces and its desiccated cities made his throne, the zombie hordes that were once its champions his armies. The ‘Ultimate Marvel’ to Earth 8′s Marvel proper (and now Marvel Zombies), the idea of the broken remains of the cool version of the cool superhero universe as the lair of the ultimate evil has a certain appeal.

27. Earth 52

The last of the Earth 52s on this list, this newly added 53rd core Earth is home to Frank Miller’s Dark Knight books. Much as the reception to it over the years has become...mixed, at best (for my money Dark Knight III is the only one that’s not at least bad in a very interesting way, and even it still has its moments), the surprised generally positive reception to the most recent entry in Dark Knight Returns: The Golden Child suggests there’s still life in this oddball corner of the cosmos yet.

(Fun fact: this was Earth 31 in a previous version of the multiverse, and Morrison intended it to be included as such in Multiversity - hence why Earth 31 is made up of inky scratches on the Map - but Miller requested he not since he wanted to keep his domain separate from DC’s ongoing storylines. Instead he agreed later to Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo’s use of it in Dark Nights: Metal as DKR is famously Snyder’s favorite comic, bringing it in as Earth 52.)

26. Earth 47 aka Dreamworld

Where the Love Syndicate of Dreamworld dwells, baby: all is groovy. It’s incredibly specific in both era and theme, but a psychedelic universe with heroes to match invites tons of possibilities.

25. Earth 10 aka Earth X

It’s the Nazi Earth that sucks. It has superheroes who unnervingly are about as well-intentioned and effective as the standard set in the New Reischman, opposed by the few remaining dregs of the Freedom Fighters led by Uncle Sam; only their Kal-L, Overman, once Hitler’s weapon, truly understands the scope of the atrocities that led to their ‘utopia’, having grown a conscience too late and ever-aware that no feat in the present can ever redeem the oceans of blood on his hands. You can do horrifying introspective stuff with them as in their Multiversity chapter, you can tell Freedom Fighters stories like the recent miniseries, or you can just have the Justice League show up to fight the Nazi Justice League. A Nazi world is a standard one in multiverse stories for a reason, you don’t get easier targets.

24. Earth 5G

The DC universe that’s...sort of here and sort of not. Doomsday Clock and other upcoming stories appear to be shifting us over to this, but in most of DC’s line of titles the leap hasn’t taken place yet. As we haven’t seen the bench of successor heroes apparently primed to take over only so much can be judged, but the vast changes suggested by the new ‘official timeline’ that’s been leaked suggest a bizarre attempt at incorporating as many of their editorially-favored biggest hits as possible into a bizarre selective mishmash, without particularly serving the status quos any of the constituent characters said history is meant to bolster (with the exception of Wonder Woman, now framed as the first superhero, which would at least be interesting and a deserved bolster to her profile if there were any particular impression her new standing would be meaningfully followed-through on), while also not only reinstating the mutually destructive retcon of the JSA as preceding Superman, but taking the absurd extra step of actively presenting them as his inspiration. Of course we haven’t seen it in practice yet, and at the end of the day good stories will surely still be told here, but the foundations here are about as shaky as they’ve ever been for the ‘core’ DCU as a wholehearted capitulation to placing dotting all the i’s and crossing all the t’s over the actual narrative logistics of making a shared universe function smoothly.

23. Earth Negative Zero aka Betwixt

A world where those whose senses of self entire disintegrate fade away to seeking to feed on those still well-defined, this bears similarities to the realm of Limbo where ignored superheroes reside, but with just enough conceptual differences and a hellish, malleable twist that makes it the best thing anyone’s come up with to date to do with the Dark Multiverse.

22. Earth 48 aka Warworld

While its iconography is rooted of all things in castoff characters from Crisis On Infinite Earths and no-hopers from Countdown To Final Crisis, the actual conceit here of a world where literally everyone and everything is a superhero that operates by superhero rules, a world built by the New Gods as defenders of reality, is wide-open and tantalizing.

21. Earth 38

Another major shot at a DCU that aged in real time, this version has its own idiosyncrasies but far more of a sense of forward momentum and meaningful change, with the original Superman and Batman still leading the pack one way or another but successors to both them and the rest of the heroes truly stepping up. Also the predominant hero of the 21st century is Knightwing, the grandson of both Superman and Batman who has only partial Superman powers but also Batman training, which is just really cool.

20. Earth 3

The good ‘ol classic evil mirror universe, where strength is the only law, the forces of evil always win in the end no matter how bright the day may become, and thus the Crime Syndicate operates as it pleases. It’s never quite as interesting as you want it to be - its villains are largely one-note - but its warped societal and cosmic rules, and that each character has a handful of twists on the mythology of their counterparts rather than being an exact (if morally inverted) duplicate, means it could easily one day come to live up to its obvious potential in the right hands.

19. Earth 21

Here, most superheroes were forced into retirement after World War II by McCarthyist paranoia, but at the dawn of the 1960s the few remaining and a new generation are emboldened to step back into the light, spearheaded by the Justice League of America. DC: The New Frontier is a modern classic, with a direct standalone follow-up virtually out of the question; as it doesn’t quite lead into the world of the actual 1960s DC Comics either, its sole function in its capacity as a world in the multiverse is as a 60s ‘period piece’ Earth. Given that’s where most of the architecture of DC as we now know it was built however, that’s hardly a problem.

18. Earth 26 aka Earth C

Funny animals are fun, and in a superhero universe that means you get superhero funny animals, courtesy of Captain Carrot and his amazing Zoo Crew. What’s not to love?

17. Earth 22

While time has somewhat dimmed the acclaim that originally surrounded it, Kingdom Come and its tale of a Superman coming out of retirement alongside his allies to try and reign in an out-of-control new generation remains a landmark moment in the genre, and in many aspects still holds up. Unlike many stories of its stature this world has always played nice with the mainline universe in terms of guest appearances and crossovers, including works by the original creators Mark Waid and Alex Ross, and as the most iconic and conceptually expansive work to date set in a DC universe that has joined in the march of time, that makes it a prominent and useful one to have around.

16. The Antimatter Universe of Qward aka The Reversoverse aka the Anti-Verse

The original dark flipside of DC reality, this has occasionally also played home to the Crime Syndicate - and their best stories by far, to boot - but mainly serves as a home base to the Weaponeers of Qward and occasionally Sinestro. While largely unexplored it has a massively central place in DC’s cosmology and the birth of the multiverse, the glimpses of a society of pure evil in early Silver Age Green Lantern and JLA: Earth 2 are far more fun and interesting than anything seen in Earth 3′s history, it’s about to get even more room under Morrison to find definition, and as the ultimate mysterious Forbidden Realm of the DCU the possibilities could be essentially endless in the right hands.

15. Earth-1985 aka Earth One

The DC universe of 1956-1986, and the dragon an entire generation of creators have spent their livelihoods chasing as the ‘classic’ iteration, as evidenced by one of them flat-out confirming it still exists somewhere out there. While that makes it frequently redundant when the main DCU is trying hard to mimic its feel - a few divergent notes such as Maggin’s idiosyncratic take on latter-day Superman and its version of Jason Todd aside - the prospect of a DCU that remained in that mold forever to a greater or lesser extent even if time may have moved forward could, in principle, free the main universe to go off in wildly different directions, knowing this image of DC always exists in its own space to return to when so desired rather than actively turning the current status quo to face backwards.

14. Earth 17

The Atomic Knights of Justice quest across the radioactive landscape of Novamerika in a world decimated by nuclear was in 1963 in search of Earth 15′s Cosmic Grail, their only hope against the coming of Darkseid. A mashup of the Justice League with the protagonists of one of the most fascinatingly bizarre comics of DC’s Silver Age in the Atomic Knights, a mythic quest, and most relevantly “What if Fallout had superheroes?” leaves this feeling like it’s just waiting for its moment to shine.

13. Earth 8 aka Angor

Known across the rest of the multiverse as the protagonists of the Major movies and comics (as opposed to the sub-imprint Essential Major reflecting Earth 7), in actuality the non-actionable champions of Angor - the Retaltiators, the G-Men, the Future Family, and The Bug, among others - are as real as any other superheroes, and while they struggle under the weight of both mistrust by the general public and frequent in-fighting, they’ve thus far protected their world from threats global, universal, and multiversal alike. The Big Two having stand-ins for each other is a longstanding tradition for good reasons: it not only allows for crossovers where the legal stars don’t align (and adds an extra fun shock of recognition whenever the reader realizes what’s happening), but provides each of them an ongoing version of those archetypes to play with within the confines of their own narrative, whether as contrasts or bending them to fit the tone of a very different shared universe than they were originally created for.

12. Earth 16 aka #earthme

The world where every sidekick, super-son, successor, and short-lived ‘new generation - of HERO!’ at last seize their moment in the sun...in a world already saved by their predecessors, with little left to do but lap up lives of super-celebrity and wish for one, just one little alien invasion or immortal tyrant to justify their existences for them. The best of DC’s futuristic/what-if-time-mattered alternate Earths in my opinion, taking to its logical conclusion the notion as stated by Morrison in interviews that as the Justice League will stick around as long as there are evils that need fighting, the ever-present promise of the torch being passed could only ever truly, permanently take place in a world where the job was already redundant. Playing as it does with in-universe history, real-life publishing realities, celebrity culture, generational divides, and the question of what being a superhero even means sans the usual confrontational justifications, it’s by its nature only going to become more expansive and interesting a commentary as time goes by and the regular DCU goes through its cycles of reboots, rebirths, and returns to form.

11. Pocket Universe 54471

Exactly what you see: Superman made a little pocket universe a half mile wide to go fishing in and he was gonna take Bruce and Dick there for the former’s bachelor party, and he knows about and/or created at least 54470 others. It’s absolutely delightful not only in its own right, but as an opening of the door to what the multiverse can mean in DC comics as a sci-fi idea generator beyond riffs on existing properties, while still being presented with a distinctly DC sense of playfulness.

10. Earth 45 aka Earth 45™

The origin of one of the best Superman villains of all time in Superdoomsday - the Superman idea in a world without him brought to life but twisted by committee into a murderous living brand - a horrifying corporatocracy standing for all Superman and company are meant to stand against, and an enduring threat with the world still in shackles and those in power still able to dream to life whatever vision they please of absolute power to be wielded in their name.

9. Earth 36 aka Terra

Justice 9, the defenders of Terra - or I suppose Justice 7 now after the losses of Optiman and Red Racer, though how long does that matter in a superhero universe? - is the most interesting of the direct analogue groups for my money. Technically speaking they’re another twice-removed set like 34 and 35, standing in for the heroes of Big Bang Comics, but given my understanding is that there’s no major “Like the DC heroes, BUT” twist in that book the way Astro City and Supreme have other than a retro ‘good old days’ bent (which definitely isn’t the case here with at least two queer members), Justice 9 basically function as direct analogues for the Justice League...in the same comics as the Justice League. To me, that’s actually fascinating: one of the most useful elements of stand-in characters like this is the ability to tap into the iconic power of archetypes without the familiarity surrounding the actual figures, in the way Planetary for instance uses just enough distance from the source material to make a couple dozen decades-old pop culture touchstones feel completely new, and this implements that approach to the material to the DC characters with heroes who can actually themselves team up with DC proper. As many approaches as could be taken with that though, that potential alone probably wouldn’t be enough to shoot it this high up the list if not for a major additional factor: in the same way that in the old-school DC universe the heroes of Earth-1 had comics reflecting the adventures of the heroes of Earth-2 long before learning they were real in another universe, DC Comics are published on Earth 36. Aside from the neat trick of putting our leads in the same position as the Golden Age heroes, it means Justice 9 grew up with the Justice League as their heroes in the same way as us the audience before becoming heroes themselves, and then they grew up to learn they were real. These folks absolutely deserve to become multiverse standbys.

8. Earth 51

The Earth where all Jack Kirby’s ideas live as a single cohesive world and adventure. No further justification is needed.

7. Earth 13

A world of occult danger where DC’s traditionally superheroic magical figures such as Zatanna and Deadman are given the full Vertigo horror treatment, while the more intimidating and morally dubious figures such as Etrigan and John Constantine get logos and codenames. Not only an expansion but an offputting inversion of one of DC’s most acclaimed corners, this oddball bunch could bounce off of the capes and tights crowd as easily as your Shadowpacts and Justice League Darks, in ways no other team from any corner of the multiverse could.

6. Earth 20

Pulp champions of a 21st century that remains aesthetically moored in the early 20th, of the handful of Earths converting DC standbys into different genre territory in the local 52 the homeworld of the Society of Superheroes hits hardest, given the role the likes of Doc Savage and The Shadow played in that time shaping the conventions of superheroes as we know them. Add the wealth of concepts presented in their oneshot and the decision to hew away from the traditional Justice League riffs of parallel Earths, and of all the truly new worlds introduced in Multiversity, Earth 20 is the one that most feels like it could support an ongoing all its own.

5. Earth 29 aka Htrae

You gotta have Bizarro World. You just gotta.

4. Earth 33 aka Earth Prime

The in-universe representation of our very own pale blue dot. Whether it’s the birthplace of Superboy Prime where assorted DC creators had to deal with a visiting Flash and Superman throughout the 60s and 70s, meta games with the various incarnations of Ultra/Ultraa, a looming threat yet also victim in need of rescue through the eyes of Justice Incarnate, or the unwitting home of the ‘Superman’ or ‘Batman’ of Kurt Busiek’s off-center takes on the characters in Secret Identity and Creature of the Night, over the years DC has shown a decent amount of restraint in not going back to this particular well too often unless someone has a really clever tale to tell, and as a result it has maybe the single best batting average of all the ‘parallel Earths’ that have been regularly returned to by DC over the years. Give yourselves a hand, folks!

3. Earth 5 aka Thunderworld

Home not to ‘Shazam’, but Captain Marvel and the Marvel Family in all their glory, a technicolor world playing by the rules set down by Otto Binder and company where a superhero can literally battle planets and the most dangerous villain of all may be a very, very mean worm with glasses, a place of dream logic and childish innocence even by the standards of superhero comics. Captain Marvel at his best is one of DC’s most iconically potent players yet many seem to agree that much of his woes in recent years have come down to trying to find a unique space for him in the DCU proper. While I don’t know that it’s at all impossible to make that work, it’s certainly true that Marvel as he was originally presented doesn’t quite make sense in that world, whereas back in his own he keeps a flavor entirely unique to himself and his partners, whether for solo adventures or teamups with the heroes of the other worlds, playing it straight or examining some of the unsettling implications established by Thunderworld or finding a new way to make it work. Much like Bizarro World, it’s simply a locale the place doesn’t quite feel whole without.

2. Earth 25 (?)

While I’m a bit dubious on it definitely being Earth 25 in the core 52 based on interpretation of an offhanded line from Mr. Terrific (it has a multiverse all its own!), the fact of the matter is that America’s Best Comics came roaring out of the gate as proof of its own title, and basically didn’t stop until it ended. A couple after-the-fact Tom Strong miniseries (containing perhaps the most singularly cowardly hack move in the history of shared universe comics in undoing the end of Promethea) can’t detract from the core ABC lineup being made up of some of the most singularly clever, gorgeous, and heartfelt superhero titles to hit the stands, pretty much the platonic ideal of what you want books like these to look like. If this universe can hang around in any capacity at all until someone god willing picks them up again in a big way, it’s a win in my book.

1. Earth 0 aka Prime Earth

The extant version of the main DCU for at least a little longer, it really does feel like more than just about any version before it - at least for my money - they finally got all their ducks in a row, albeit right before blowing everything to hell. Most of the stories you really want to still have some sort of weight for the major characters are still in play to be built on, and most of the stories that clearly needed to be dropped are dropped. The cosmology’s fleshed out and expanding, the big names mostly work as they should ideally work while still heading into new territory, the JSA is mysteriously somehow around in the past without interfering with the primacy of Superman and the Justice League as the first known superheroes (a mystery that will never be resolved now due to the current reboot; damn shame) and the Legion of Superheroes have a new coat of paint, and there’s room for stories cosmically massive and intimately personal and utterly bizarre throughout the line rather than there being a single overriding idea of what these books should be. It may not be the perfect DC Universe by any means, but it’s a real, real damn good one, and of course without that thing, none of the rest of these universes would have been there in the first place.

[ffxiv-ariavitali]

homesick [hohm-sik]: adjective "sad or depressed from a longing for home or family while away from them for a long time."

Writing prompt: mal du pays

Time period: Shadowbringers

Word count: 594

AO3 ver.

❅ ❅ ❅

There would be little moments every now and then, ones that she would acknowledge the minute that she begins experiencing it. It was a cold emptiness eating away at her like winter, a starved beast denied food for disobedience, an ache that only got worse over time rather than healed.

Aria would be reminded when she would see couples going about their day, when parents would dote on their younglings in the city states. She never held anything against them, for it is they to which she fights so fervently on the front line.

(To preserve the smiles of the people of the realm was her ultimate goal. Although it took her a while to reach that point and be confident of her decision, needless to say that it befits her status as the Warrior of Light.)

However, as much as the citizens would otherwise, she missed the gentle snowfall and grey clouds. She missed the crackling of firewood burning in a hearth and the hot chocolate that would be prepared the moment she would step through the front door.

Most of all, she missed the people that she had to leave behind—the family that had taken her in when she and hers needed them most, her brother that could only pray for her safety and do what he can with the Scions left behind...and a lover that had responsibilities just as important as she to attend to.

Aria knew that Aymeric accepted this of her the moment he had asked her to be his. In fact, the second that he discovered that it was the Warrior of Light—and all her titles that could fill a ledger all on its own—that he had fallen for, he should have come to expect it. It didn’t stop the guilt from shaming her and a part of her wondered if she should cut back on her adventuring just a tad to spend more time with him albeit his assurances to remain exactly as she was.

It was then that the sound of a voice snapped her back to attention from her innermost thoughts. When she shifted her head to see what it was, the other hunters of the Cardinal Virtues—Granson, Giott, Lue-Reeq, Taynor, Cerigg and Cyella—eyed her with both concern.

“Is everything alright?” the Dark Knight asked of her, worry glistening in his eyes despite his hardened expression.

Aria smiled softly and inclined her head. “Indeed, pardon my inattentiveness. I was lost in thought.”

Taynor leaned in, unable to school his emotions.

“Maybe some rest would be a good idea?” he asked.

“A tankard of ale would be more than enough, eh, friend?” Giott laughed merrily as she downed one of her own.

Lue-Reeq frowned and shook his head. “I daresay it would make her feel worse rather than better.”

“What did you say?!” the dwarf exclaimed aggressively.

The sight of the two’s bantering was enough to bring good cheer to the table as Cyella leaned in to the Warrior as if to tell a secret.

“Perhaps a return home is in order, is it not?” she offered to her.

Aria pondered on that thought, inclining her head, and the sight of it was enough to catch the attention of the others in the group. Her girlish and innocent appearance caught them off guard, a look unlike that of a seasoned warrior that was a master of multiple martial arts across the realm.

“I think it might just be,” Aria replied excitedly in a soft voice.

Everyone smiled. She could finally rest.

She could finally go home.

[fiaclasiorc]

for @seventhdaughter​​

As they were denied the light of heaven, their eyes got opened to the wonders of another world that was not quite hell nor limbo. It was a realm of glabrous flesh, glistening scales, salt and blood and seaweed and crushing bulk of water beneath and above them, in their lungs, everywhere, and they’ve seen things that would make a layman’s wit abandon him and repeal every biblical truth or fairytale lie. Terrors came to life and dreams died one day and swapped their roles the next, planting fear in one’s gut with bottomless maws of ocean monsters and beckoning with golden sheen of treasures, yet the cursed crew had no desire nor fear for either. Corrupted by sorrow and despair like a hull of a ship is eaten by a shipworm, they lived the fate worse than that of a wandering soul, for the pain of flesh still plagued them, their bones whined and creaked, their chests heaved with strain, their eyes grew far-sighted from seeing naught by the distant line of horizon and their tongues craved the forgotten taste of earthly food. They have traded a place in afterlife for eternal deprivation, but oh, have they seen a lot!

The oldest among them, the captain and the first mate, had been granted glimpses of the most, and they watched legends living, moving, breathing. Had their memory not been honed edgeless like a stone on the seashore, they would have the right to say they’ve seen leviathan himself, yet he was not a material beast but rather the essence of the ocean itself, too vast and omnipresent to be understood to its innermost depth. But mermaids, mermaids were not a wonder after everything they’ve been made witnesses to. Merely another unholy folk in the infinite realm of calypso, they could only surprise a green youth or a landlubber who’s just made his first step upon a deck. Maccus saw no semblance of his kin in them, although they too preyed on the bodies of men and bore a mixture of traits of Adam and Eve’s descendants and sea life.

They sought no songs nor trophies when the dutchman had sailed into the waters of the Whitecap Bay, but a tool, akin to the kraken’s hammer that made a call to the most feared beast of the Caribbean, to bring down vessels and harvest souls in numbers even greater than before, for the Dutchman was quick to devour minds and needed new hands at all times.

With a few dubious blessings brought upon them along with the curse, they made a worthy opponent for the predatory fishmaidens, their lungs devoid of the need in air and their eyesight as clear underwater as it would be on land, they glided along with the cold flows with speed and grace to match those of mermaids, stretching a chain of nets across the bay, cutting off a part of the school from the way to escape. The beasties ate and sliced through the threads, clawed at the hideous faces of the captors, slithered out of their grip, but the culling went on and on with sloppiness of a capricious extirpation a child might bring down upon a puddleful of pollywogs. they needed just one.

Her tail was impaled on a harpoon and she was dragged to a boat on a rope, suspended by a slew of strong, cruel hands, as slippery as her own skin. Having reeled a chain round her form, the men of the dutchman secured an iron collar on her throat and in a choir of hooting and victorious yelps delivered her onto the top deck of the ship. still ridden with men lacking experience in the wonders of the sea, the crowed gawked and hummed amongst themselves as the wounded tail morphed into a pair of bare legs, and the men stripped of any pleasure were blinded by the sight of a naked woman that showed no difference between herself and a sentient creature of god that walked the earth on two feet. Someone’s hand darted forward to cover her mouth, fearing the power of the famed syren voice, yet the first mate kneeled and pushed it away, pressing a blade of his ax to the pale throat of their captive.

“We’ll do ye no harm if ye don’t try to fight.”

[lixuagi]

The Cure for Death - chapter 1

(Since some of you said that they would really like to read my Valdemar/MC FF -I’m so happy!!!- here’s the first chapter. This takes place before the actual Arcana storyline, when the Plague is looming over Vesuvia. MC’s abilities and character are based off of one of my ocs that I will introduce in another post. However I didn’t write about her appearence so everyone can imagine their own character, she’s a girl though and she uses feminine pronouns. I hope this doesn’t ruin the reading for anyone. Enjoy! Here’s some context): MC is Asra’s young and kind apprentice. She has a talent that even her master couldn’t teach: a natural talent for healing. But with great powers come great responsabilities, and she’ll learn that ending up working as a nurse for the infamous Quaestor Valdemar. However, a greater danger lurks in the shadow. Will her light still shine if faced with the dark?

Somewhere, in a world suspended between reality and intangible, someone was watching me. -I must have that power. It’s indispensable. – A voice too deep and greedy to not be evil. -I need it for everything to go as planned. I need it to succeed. I have to have it. I must… have her.- But I couldn’t know. . -Here we go. It’s all right now. Try to move your arm- I smile kindly at the little girl sitting in front of me in my shop. She does what she’s asked, smiling back with an even bigger grin that’s missing a canine. -Wow! You’re such a witch! – she giggles, waving her slender limb a few minutes earlier fractured by a bad fall. -I prefer mage, but thank you.- I sneer, watching the faint emerald light leave my palms. -Yes, as you wish! Mother told me she’ll come by in the morning to pay you properly.- I help her get back on her feet, and off the stool. -Tell her it’s not necessary. It was just a small thing.- I take her hand and walk her out the door. - Really?- Her big eyes open wide, glowing with amazement. I nod softly. -Thank you! You’re the nicest witch in the world!- just the time to give me a hug, and the little girl hurries out of the store. I follow her with my eyes, shouting: -Don’t tire that arm too much! And watch your steps next tim– I stop, realizing that, far away as she is, she probably can’t hear me anymore. I cross my arms, shaking my head and muttering to myself: -These kids…- I sigh, turning to go back in, but I find myself in front of Asra, my master and colleague. -A very good job as usual, MC.- he puts his hand on my shoulder with his usual politeness. I sense that’s not all he wants to tell me, so I wait for him to continue. -But you don’t eat with selflessness…you know times are hard. -I look down, feeling naive. -She was just a child…How could I ask her for compensation?- I know he doesn’t like to scold me, but his eyebrows, white as his thick hair, show that he’s already decided to do it. -You know that her mother is the wife of one of Vesuvia’s richest merchants. He would have paid us handsomely. Yours is a rare if not unique gift. No one has such mastery of healing magic as you. This must be rewarded.- I remain silent, my eyes fixed on the floor. Really, I’m a fool. How could I miss such an opportunity when people are starving outside or worse, consumed by the plague? Noticing that I’m silent, Asra sighs, just tightening his grip to reassure me. -It’s okay, MC. -I don’t want you to be hard on yourself about this. I didn’t mean to hurt you.- I put my hand on his, raising my eyes to meet his gaze of a soft violet, strong contrast to his amber skin. -I know. Maybe it’s just… - I swallow, looking for the best words. -I don’t want to be somebody who makes money off other people’s suffering.- he seems to get indignant and gets ready to argue about it, but I interrupt him before that happens. -I just want to help the cause. I just…want to save all those lives.- these words seem to calm him,and his expression comes back relaxed and apprehensive. -You’re not an Arcana. You’re a human being and you can’t save everyone. You have to accept that. You can’t keep accusing yourself forever after– I barely raise a hand to put a stop to his words. I don’t want to remember, but it’s inevitable. -If I had tried harder, if I had resisted…that man’s children would still have a father. He would have loved and protected them… - I cover my face with my hands, while the images of that day manifest before me like apparitions. The man had entered leaving a copious trail of blood behind him. He could hardly speak, given the numerous stabs he had received, from what I could understand, thanks to a robber. Every wound, extremely deep, that I could barely heal, deprived me of so much energy. When I got to what would later be his fatal cut, on the carotid artery, Asra had to tear me from the patient or I would end up going beyond my abilities and dying with him. He took it upon himself to tell the family of the deceased. I didn’t eat for a week after it happened. I felt like a murderer. The guilt gripped me, and was a painful grip. One day the doorbell rang, and I went to open the door. Even though Asra kept me from receiving any more customers while I was so exhausted, now he couldn’t do it because he went shoppingshopping for necessities. On the threshold were two children, brother and sister, the eldest being no older than eleven. -Daddy’s dead, and it’s your fault! -The hate with which the infant stared at me was unspeakable, while just behind him his little sister sobbed incessantly. I stammered something, pale in the face. Days later I saw them again in a wagon. He took the victims of the Red Plague to the Lazaret.

-Sometimes, when the door opens and the bells jingle, I think it’s their ghosts.-I whisper, looking down and staring into nothingness. A tear runs down my cheek, but I don’t realize it until Asra dries it with his thumb, bringing me back to reality. He doesn’t know what to say. Seeing me like that always breaks his heart. He

clutches me tightly, resting his chin on my head. I can feel his jaw tighten. He holds me like this for a few minutes, like he’s afraid I might disappear at any moment. After a long deliberation, he finds the strength to do what’s right. -What would make you happy? -My heart melts to feel he’s putting aside his fears for my well-being. -I want to go out there. I don’t care what happens next. I need to redeem myself, or I won’t be able to go on. -A doubt grips him though, forcing him to give it voice: -Let’s consider the possibility of a repeat of…that unfortunate event. How would you handle it? - I think carefully about the answer. -I’ll have to make it up to it again. For every victim there’ll be three times as many healed.- I clench my fists and I get out of the hug. Even the young man notes that my eyes are full of determination. -if not more. Every night I’ll go to bed exhausted and if not I’ll have to continue even when the moon is shining. It’s my nature, Asra. I was born for this.- I run to the back room, where we both live. His lips open in an expression of utter amazement. Ever since I was a child he has taken me under his wing, finding me in the middle of the road healing pets for pennies. By now he knows me like the back of his hand, or so he thought. He had never seen such passion in a girl who was usually shy and caring. I’ve grown up. At this moment, Asra Alnazar ceases to think he educated me personally. He took care of me, like a gardener watering his flower, just waiting for me to bloom on my own. And at this point there’s nothing he can do. He realizes that if I wanted to, he would have to let me go.

When I return, I have the bag over my shoulder, loaded with everything that could be useful to me during my journey, including, of course, my deck of tarot cards. Although my specialty is healing magic, over the years I have been taught to master the white one discreetly as well. Black magic is still an unexplored

territory, and frankly I hope I never have to experience it. It was always Asra who left me alone in the shop

during his expeditions in who knows which corner of the real world or magical realms. Now it’s my turn.

Let’s call it a declaration of independence.

-Where will you go?- he asks me, eyes veiled with sadness as he suppresses a “will you come back?” -Where’s the need for me to be.- I smile at him, but it’s not enough to calm him down. I look at his worried

face. -This isn’t a good-bye, Asra.- - Promise me.- He’s holding out a hand while also holding something

back. I hand him mine, and he drops a necklace in my palm with an emerald pendant amulet. -What is it?- I

don’t swear. Anything could happen out there. I may never get back to him. -When you need me, if you’ll

ever do, you can contact me with this. I’ll always be with you, MC.- He’s coming up to me, putting his arms

around my neck. I blush at the proximity of our faces. As soon as I hear the click of the necklace closing, I

pull away. Many times I have wondered if in all these years of living together Asra had ever wanted me to

be something more than an apprentice or a friend. But even more I wondered if I wished that too. These

moments with him seem to give me the illusion that it wouldn’t hurt to be with him for the rest of my life.

After all, he has never been anything but kind to me, and a thousand other good things. However, although

these reflections confuse me quite a bit, a part of me wants our relationship to remain pure, genuine. It’s

too precious, it goes beyond physical attraction. It’s so deep that it’;s platonic. If I ever had to make a choice,

I’d die for him. And I’m sure he’d do the same for me. -I have to go- I whisper to him with my head down

without having the courage to look at him again. I put my hand on the door knob and turn it, opening the

door wide. -MC.-I turn to him, and it hurts. For a moment I have the impression that he wants to reveal

his deepest confessions and his innermost thoughts to me. Then he bites his lip like he’s taking it all back. -

You haven’t promised yet.- I smile at him. -I’ll come back,I promise you that.- I didn’t think the first time I

left Asra would be the first time I could lie to him. But with those words,I disappear from his sight,not

knowing for how long.

.

I look around. The streets of Vesuvia have never been so deserted. A boiling wind lifts the sand from the clay soil, creating a vermilion mist. I decide to pass through the market, usually the place that is swarming with people, especially in the late afternoon. Few stalls have the courage to continue selling, the merchants constantly exposed to the incurable and deadly disease. In the distance I can see the stall of Selasi, the baker from whom Asra and I used to go every morning to have breakfast, in more pleasant times. The closer I get, the more I notice the scarcity of the goods: even for him the raw materials are now unobtainable. When he notices me, the man makes his gaze lighten towards my figure, then looks away, as if terrified. To say the least, a peculiar behavior given his joyful character. I remember how his face lit up at the sight of every customer, who he treated daily with all the warmth that a friend would give. Now I stand a few meters away from him when I feel that something is wrong. A familiar aura surrounds him: that of someone who is suffering. My slow pace becomes fast as I approach him: -Selasi!- he jumps. His face looks very emaciated. It’s not just the famine. -Ah, Miss MC… -What can I offer you today?- His voice is a tired, almost inaudible rale. Even stranger, since he is used to shouting to be heard by crowds. His gaze is firmly planted on the ground. -Selasi… you are…- -Don’t come any closer!- I back away, surprised by that shout. Then he continues, mortified: -Please…I don’t want you to…- The question is enough to convince him to look me in the eye. His are injected with blood, his sclera is totally vermilion, his skin is pale and cracked. I have never seen a plague patient so closely, but I can recognize them thanks to Asra’s stories and the medical documents he had given me. He had never allowed me to treat one in the shop, he was afraid that I would be drained of any strength or worse, infected. I wonder if I’d be able to do anything. -Why didn’t you come to me? You’re a friend.- I’m trying to get closer, but he’s reluctant. -I can’t risk causing anyone’s death, I just can’t. I try to keep my distance, but… - one cough interrupts him. He tries to turn around, but when he does, blood splashes on a loaf of bread. The disease takes its course in three days. The first you have a harmless fever, the third you’re at the Lazaret, waiting for your body to be burned among hundreds more. -Please, let me help you. I’ve treated sick people before, certainly not this kind of pathology, but I’ve never been infected. Please, Selasi.- the choice is not difficult for him, after all what does he have to lose? If he doesn’t try, he’ll die soon anyway. -I don’t have much on me, but…- -No, I don’t want anything. I just don’t want you to suffer anymore. Your offer almost hurts me. I’m not that kind of person, not anymore.- Somehow I’ll find other ways to make a living. I extend my hands to his face, and this time he won’t retract. My palms glow bright green. The brighter it is, the greater the effort. Now it looks so bright that I feel like I’ll be blinded at any moment. However, I’ve been practicing a lot since the accident. I am able to endure this, and even more so as I close my eyes to concentrate. My energy penetrates under his skin, looking for the focus of the discomfort. I can feel it flowing, it is liquid and it expands throughout his body, everywhere. It’s… the blood. The problem is now all over the circulatory system, and it’s invading the other organs with disarming speed. I have to stop it. I channel my magic into every single artery, vein and capillary. Nothing must be left uncovered. My being, meanwhile, is now in a total trance. I am no longer aware of the outside world. All I see is my light branching out into thousands of wires and tunnels. When I have invaded every zone, I try to keep my breathing regular, ignoring the dizziness that begins to manifest itself, and I begin purification. I hope that Selasi is feeling instant relief, it would mean that it is working. My stomach is writhing on itself, nauseated, and my legs are made of butter. I can do this. The darkness is about to disintegrate, I can feel it. My temples are throbbing. The heavy air comes in and out of my lungs quickly. I slowly close my fists, calling the light back to me. -Purify and return.- I whisper the formula needed to end the spell. I feel the energies come back to my hands, even if they have now decimated, they have finished their task. I hope it has been successful as I squint my eyelids. My feet touch the ground again. Apparently I was really floating. -Selasi…? -I hardly whisper. I can’t find any answers. For a moment I’m afraid I lost him. My vision is blurred and distorted, I can’t distinguish shapes and sounds come to me muffled. Maybe he’s talking to me, but I can’t hear him anymore. The darkness overwhelms me as I abandon myself to its warmth.

Immersed in the darkness, I can only hear the echo of my thoughts. It’s ridiculous. It would be pathetic if the first time I left Asra, I died. Maybe that’s exactly what happened to me, though. Maybe there was a reason I was never allowed to treat Red Plague patients. Maybe it would have been fatal. At least I saved a life. At least I redeemed myself. I remain immersed in that dense shadow for what appears to be an infinite amount of time. Then I see a pristine light, the famous light at the end of the tunnel. Where is it taking me? When I try to walk towards it I find myself unable to move. But it’s getting bigger, it is the one who is getting closer. My ears ring, it’s deafening. Where am I? When I come out of the luminous aura, I begin to struggle to distinguish a figure. They’re dressed in white, they have a gown, a strange headgear of the same colour in the shape of horns, the skin… green. My imagination is playing tricks on me. They wear a ruby coloured brooch on their chest, it’s shaped like a beetle, and their eyes are bloodshot, with a feline pupil. I’ve never seen this individual. The ringing in my ears fades to make room for sound. The figure is talking. -Oh, you’re waking up, I see.- -Mm…am I dead? Are you an angel?- A giggle answers me. -Oh, no, to be precise, I’m quite the opposite.-

.

Notes: thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it please leave a like/reblog/comment with your opinion and/or how would you like the story to go on! Ik that we meet dr vivisexy just at the end but this is just the beginning, things will change :3 Please keep in mind that english is not my native language so padron me if I made any mistakes!

[null-whump]

Felix –– Part Four

Start here, next

I got a little carried away and this one gets kinda brutal haha

Warnings: Broken bones, dehumanization, muzzling (continued from part three), non consensual mental intrusion (?) I’m not entirely sure how to label that last one. No sexual intention, I promise, but I wanted to put a warning just in case.

Word Count: 1,977

–––––––––––––––––––––

I was awoken the next morning with a harsh kick in my side. Varren was standing over me, his cold eyes boring into mine.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to sleep,” he said calmly, and I felt my heart drop in my chest.

Incapable of speech because of the muzzle I was still wearing, I chose to glare at him instead, refusing to let my nervousness show. Varren kicked me again, hard, and I fell to the side. My attempt to push myself up only resulted in pain shooting through my broken fingers. The muzzle muffled my pained cries as Varren kicked me a few more times.

“Useless,” he scoffed. “I suppose you can’t do anything for me with your hands like that.” He walked over to his desk as I struggled to sit up with the least amount of pain possible.

I had managed to maneuver myself onto my knees when Varren approached me again, holding a book. One glance at the cover told me it was some sort of spell book, but I didn’t have a chance to read the title before Varren had opened it and shoved it towards me.

“Take it,” he snapped when I didn’t move.

I hesitantly reached out my hands and flinched as I took the whole weight of the book with my broken fingers.

“There’s a healing spell,” Varren said. “Learn it, and I’ll permit you to heal yourself.” He turned and walked back to his desk and sat down. “Maybe it will make you slightly less useless.”

I would have protested if I were able, shouted some indignant response, but the leather muzzle rubbing harshly against my face reminded me how impossible that would be. Instead, I carefully placed the book on the floor in front of me and began to study the spell.

I don’t know how many hours passed like that. There were no windows in the study so I couldn’t judge the flow of time, but I guessed it had been several hours. I was starving. I tried not to think about how I hadn’t eaten in a full 24 hours, but my hands shook whenever I raised them, and my throat ached with thirst. The words on the page were starting to blur together by the time Varren finally stood and walked back towards me.

“You must be hungry.”

I could hear the smirk in his voice without having to look up.

“I don’t see any reason to feed you,” Varren continued, walking closer. “After all, you haven’t done a single thing to deserve it. Just the opposite, in fact.”

I lifted my head and glared. He was bluffing, I was sure. If I died I would simply be sent back to the Realm and he would have to summon another familiar. Or was that his plan? I was weak and useless so he wanted to be rid of me, then he would summon another, stronger familiar. As much as I hated the thought of a slow death, at least I would be free of him…

“I’m not going to starve you.” Varren looked down at me, amused. “You may be a weakling, but I went to a lot of trouble getting you here, and I’m not getting rid of you anytime soon.”

I blinked, startled. This was the second time that Varren had said something almost exactly like what I had been thinking. It hit me immediately. ‘He’s a telepath!’ I cursed my stupidity for not realizing it sooner and furiously focused on my mental barriers. Telepathy was supposed to be my specialty, yet this witch had managed to get into my mind undetected – twice.

Varren dropped into a crouch in front of me. “Are you trying to lock me out, boy?” He seized my hair and pulled my head back, forcing me to meet his eyes. “What makes you think you have the right to do that?” He asked, his voice low and menacing.

I refused to be intimidated by his cold stare, choosing to glare into his cold blue eyes, unflinching. ‘I’m not letting you in without a fight.’

Varren’s gaze grew colder, somehow. “It’s amusing that you think you could hold me off. I could easily force my way into your mind, but I don’t think that would quite get the message across.” Varren tightened his grip on my hair. “It seems you need another punishment.”

I felt my heart jump, but I refused to give the reaction I knew Varren wanted.

“What will it be this time?” Varren inquired. “Should I whip you again? Force you to stop breathing? You have plenty more bones to break. Or maybe something new?” Varren tilted his head to the side. “I’ll give you one more chance because I’m feeling generous. What will it be?”

I almost gave in then. I wanted to, I wanted to avoid the pain I knew would come if I resisted, but my pride wouldn’t let me. So I steeled my mind and tried to prepare myself.

“Very well then,” Varren said calmly. In one swift movement, he pushed me onto the ground face-first and twisted my right arm behind my back. His knee was on my back, keeping me pinned as he gripped my arm. “Your arm will be first,” he informed me. “Then as many as I need to after that until you let me in.”

He twisted my arm and I could hear the crack as the bone broke. I heard myself cry out, the noise silenced by the muzzle. My arm hurt, and I almost didn’t realize that Varren was speaking.

“Well, boy? Convinced yet?”

I grit my teeth and focused on keeping my barriers up. A little voice in my head whispered how pointless it was, but I ignored it as Varren pressed his hand against my shoulder. I felt him gathering magical energy in his palm, the warmth tingling my skin through my shirt.

“This may hurt a little.”

The amusement in his voice turned my stomach before he released the energy and my shoulder was in agony. I would have screamed if I could and my vision flashed white.

“It’s remarkable that you can still make so much noise with a muzzle on,” Varren remarked. “And that was only one arm.”

I forced myself to breathe, my arm screaming in pain. I guessed that Varren had shattered the bones in my shoulder, but I had no desire to think about it more than I already was. Varren tugged on my arm, and the pain that shot through my body made me whimper past the muzzle.

“Should we start on the left arm now?” Varren pulled on my right again, forcing out another pained sound. I felt Varren lean down so that he was speaking right next to my ear. “Well, boy? What will it be?”

I hated it. I hated him, I hated what he was doing, and most of all I hated myself for being so weak. But it hurt, it hurt so much, and I couldn’t force myself to go through more of it. Slowly, reluctantly, I released my mental barriers. I shut my eyes tightly and felt tears in my eyes as I waited, dread coiling in my chest.

Varren laughed quietly in my ear. “Good boy.”

I felt his presence in my mind immediately, now that he wasn’t trying to hide it. It was intrusive, the way he slipped into my thoughts so easily, poking and prodding at every corner of my mind, uncovering all of my innermost thoughts and secrets. He wasn’t just reading my mind, he was invading it. I felt my breathing accelerate as his consciousness filled my head.

To go so deep into my psyche was something I had only permitted two other people to do, and him doing it like this was wrong. It was wrong, I hated it, it was supposed to be a show of deep trust and intimacy between friends and lovers, and he was violating it with complete disregard for anything as trivial as consent. I felt cold tears slip down my face as he pushed farther into my mind.

‘Please…stop…’ the thought slipped out, and I couldn’t do anything to hide it. I couldn’t hide anything anymore.

I felt amusement from Varren’s consciousness. ‘Not yet, boy. There’s still something I need to do.’

I nearly stopped breathing as I realized what he meant. ‘No – don’t!’

The laughter came again, harsh and cold. ‘Did you just give me an order?’

‘Please,’ I begged, ashamed of how low I had been brought. ‘Please, I already – please –’

‘Ah, I see,’ Varren’s amusement seemed to have only grown. ‘You already have a bond, with someone else…oh isn’t that sweet? You really love her, don’t you?’

‘Stop it!’ I was torn between dismay and anger, but powerless to do anything. I had let him in, and now I was paying the price.

‘Sam, what a nice name.’ Varren’s mocking voice echoed inside my mind. ‘Unfortunately for you two, I’m going to have to get rid of that bond you have.’

‘No, please!’ I was frantic at this point, so much so that I didn’t care about begging. ‘Please, please don’t, I don’t care what you do but please –‘ I felt Varren brush me off mentally.

‘Go on now, I’m ordering you to break it.’

He was ordering me, and that meant I couldn’t resist. ‘Sam…I’m sorry…’ I felt another sob in my throat as our bond crumbled away.

‘You really are pathetic,’ Varren scoffed. ‘Don’t you remember, boy? You belong to me now. Not just your body; your mind, your spirit, everything. The only person you need a bond with is me.’

‘You can’t,’ I thought weakly. ‘A bond requires absolute consent from both participants, even if you order me to, it’s not real consent, you can’t make me –’

‘Can’t I?’ Varren challenged. ‘Let’s test that theory, shall we? I order you to form this bond with me, willingly.’ He intoned the bonding ritual, and I could only listen, helpless, until he reached the end. ‘Now, do you accept?’

‘I…accept,’ I found myself agreeing numbly, and the bond was secured into place.

“Good boy.” I felt a hand on my head, and I realized Varren was speaking out loud.

He wasn’t searching through my head anymore, but he was still there. I could feel him at the edge of my mind, his presence and emotions now linked with my mind, as mine were to his. It felt wrong, and awful, and disturbing on so many levels to have him so closely linked to me. I could feel the satisfaction and happiness that Varren had, and I hated it. I tried to focus on my anger, wanting to convey exactly how I felt about what had just happened, but I only felt Varren’s amusement grow.

“Before you get any ideas…” Varren twisted the arm I had forgotten he was holding and I cried out. “Don’t even think about severing the bond, boy.”

Immediately all thoughts of cutting off the bond fled my mind, and I despaired at the hopelessness of the situation.

“Now now, don’t be sad,” Varren said. “I’m going to heal you, and I promise it’ll only hurt a little.”

A thrill of fear went through me, and I felt Varren’s excitement increase in response. He was enjoying this. Seeing me in pain, and seeing me afraid. He loved it.

“If you’re extra good, maybe I’ll even take the muzzle off and let you eat.” I felt Varren’s hand move to my hair and stroke it, like an animal getting a reward.

I didn’t have the energy or the means to protest, and I was forced to lay there, listening to Varren’s laugh and feeling all the enjoyment he got out of my hopeless, hopeless situation.

–––––––––––––––––––

Beginning of a tag list! If you want to be added just let me know :)

@castielamigos-whump-side-blog

[imagethat]

Kitsune | Vergil x Reader

Small story/drabble where the reader is a fox demon. Vergil x Reader.

(Writers note: Writing for Vergil is a bit of a challenge for me because I feel like Vergil is the kind of person who admires someone for their skill then gets to know them and fall in love. So my stories for Vergil are really long. I'm working on improving my writing, and if anyone has any tips or ideas for Vergil/writing Vergil better they'd be greatly appreciated!)

Fox demons are said to be cunning and elusive spirits. With playful intentions, even at the expense of others well being. You were no different. Red Grave was a bastion of unfortunate souls, all for you to toy with. You could visit them in their dreams, manipulate reality to their poor unfortunate brains. Trickery is what gave you power, it fed your abilities and each night you were growing stronger. As the disappearance number started to reach the double digits our favorite devil hunters took notice of your presence. Trish was the first to realize a tricky fox was running amuck through the town, simply because she herself was a full demon and she had a special connection to the pits of hell. Soon after though, Dante, Vergil, and Nero followed behind her. Only Trish knew of your true form though, while you still remained a mystery to the other three. A monsterous foe lurking in the cover of night. Morrision did his best to get information on you but the poor guy came up empty handed. It make you laugh. Each night your lavish dreams promising Eden lured in more souls every one of them coming to the same horrible realization that there was no leaving once you entered. This dream was a snare, a never ending labyrinth that consumed all. Dante was foolish enough to take the bait though. Vergil on the other hand saw the clear warning signs, and offered a plan of luring you out of your realm. They came to a consensus on that plan and thus it began. Always one step ahead, you thwarted whatever plan they came up with. If you were honest, you were starting to grow incredibly bored. So you decide to have some fun of your own. The human world made you weaker to a certain extent and that thought excited you. Never had you left your realm, your parents warning you against it when you were young. But above all, they warned you to never fall in love with someone from outside your realm. You were fine with that rule, it never bothered your cold coloused heart. Foxes carry a lot of karma you see, and for every life you've ruined. Every person you've tormented. That energy is said to come back at you ten times as hard. Many from your realm used that as reasoning for being so manipulative. See, karma can't cut you down if you slay it first. You sat perched on a tree branch, one leg pulled to your chest as you waited. In the human world your presence would be noticeable, uncloaked from your realm. Your tail flicked back and forth, ears perked. Listening for a sign of your soon to be 'captors'. A small smirk rose to your face as you heard an all but annoying tune getting ever closer. It was the Devil May Cry van. How Nico managed to jump it was beyond you. She tried her best to hit you but you were faster, aiming a precise strike to the middle of the van to catapult it into the earth. You could hear very loud cursing from both the vans passengers as you returned to your sitting position, in the same exact spot to tease them. "How nice of you to join me. The moon is lovely tonight." You hummed as a white haired punk jumped out of the passenger's seat. He shot at you and you just tilted your head to the side, bullet missing you by centimeters. "Now please don't be so rude, let's talk this out. Please~" You purred while making a soft pout. "Hell no! I've got a wage to earn." Nero yelled, thrusting his grappling hook at you. You allowed it to grab you, only so you'd be brought in close enough to trip him. He made a failed attempt to kick you from his spot on the ground. "God, I'm bored already." You hissed in an annoyed tone. "You're too predictable! Send someone interesting next time!" You demanded as a portal opened behind you. Nero placed both of his hands over his ears, trying to keep the soft delicate tunes from your realm out of his head. He yelled something at your back but you paid him no mind as you returned home. Nico quickly got out of the van after she was sure you were gone only to find Nero passed out. "Oh fuck no way!" She exclaimed while quickly kneeling besides nero. "Nero! Nero!!" She yelled, trying to wake him but he was like a sandbag in her arms. Nero was promptly returned to Devil May Cry. Nico doing her best to find any notes about your breed of demon while Lady tucked Nero in on the couch. Vergil seemed… vexed to say the least. He wouldn't admit it but he cared for his son. Dante tapped his finger on his desk impatiently. "Well, did it say anything to you?" Dante questioned, trying is best to figure out what happened. "Send someone interesting was all I caught. I was in the van so all I could really hear was the jukebox!" She exclaimed from her pile of papers. She didn't know how truly lucky she was. "Allow me to go next time." Vergil said, finally speaking up. "Let me go with you then." Trish added and Vergil nodded no. "We don't need two of us going down at once, if it should manage to best me…" Vergil replied. He had a point.

The next night, Vergil found himself in the same park Nero had fought you in. The ground still hadn't recovered from Nico's van tracks. The sky was clouded. The wind rustling through the trees, causing an eerie sound to creak from them. Every now and then, when a gust of wind came by, you'd shake a tree. Vergil couldn't be sure if it was you, but kept his composure. After an hour of toying with the environment with no avail to Vergil's mental state you decide he was fit for your presence. Worthy of having company with you. All at once the forest became a never ending expanse even though that shouldn't be possible. The park was in the middle of a dense city. Animals out of sight ran through the tall grass. The trees seemed to be ever shifting as you emerged from them. "What's your name?" You asked the tall white haired man. He didn't respond, but did not make a move to get into the proper stance to defend himself. Curious. "You know, I only do this to survive. I never asked to be born the way I was." You said, expressing sadness through your motions and eyes. "I know you've been consuming far more than you need to." He finally spoke. His voice surprised you, it wasn't what you expected him to sound like. Nonetheless, you continued on with your charades. "Oh well that is true, but to be weak is such a pitiful thing. Would you not agree?" You mused curiously, having already peaked into his mind. He seemed to contemplate his answer for a good deal of time before speaking. "That you are right, holding power feels good. But what is power without something to protect? In your endless pursuit, you will never feel satisfaction for you have no measure of what true strength is." He commented of your mentality. For some reason, it bothered you deeply. "You do not know what I seek or who I am to become." You snarled. He grimaced at your aggressive response. That's when the fighting began. If you weren't so angry, you would've been impressed with his skill. But your might was just as tempered and well trained. Through the battle, scattered back and forth conversation happened. "This world is mine! It shall taste of your blood! Feed on your innermost fears!" You yelled while swinging your blade. Vergil only ever seemed to parry your attacks. "I will not falter. Nor will I yield." A well timed attack from the calm man landed you off balance, causing you to retreat momentarily. "If you know not of what you search for, allow me to offer you something to strive for." He said, to which you bared your teeth at. Beginning your relentless assault again. "Quiet! You are part mortal! You are beneath me!" You demanded. He struck your side, you barely had time to realize it had happened. His incision was precise and wasn't deep enough to kill you, unless you left it untreated. "How? What are you mortal!" You demanded. You should've been untouchable in this world. He cleaned off his blade before sliding it into its case. "Your anger blinds you. What is it you fear that drives you to such extremes?" He questioned. "Fear of the unknown? Fear of failure?" He continued to question, taking slow steps towards you. You hissed loudly, hand cusping your side. "Leave! Never step foot here again!" You yelled before retreating into the grass. You didn't make it far, knees weak as you stumbled along. Still losing blood. Vergil's mental state was returned to normality as the trees faded and the familiar cityscape emerged before his eyes. He saw himself in you, but knew you would no longer bother Red Grave. By morning, all the people who had gone missing were returned. That included Nero, who woke up with the sun rising. Dante questioned his brother about what happened, but Vergil only let out sparse details.

Your breathing was ragged. Slow and shallow as you did your best to patch your wound. Never much of a medic since your wounds were always limited. You followed your familiar trail back to your home. It was grand and traditional. As you entered through the front door and staggered to your bed you collapsed onto the floor in the entryway. "Fate has found me, I wonder if my brothers and sisters will sing of this tale. Of how childish mothers eldest was. How my emotions got the best of me and made me vulnerable." You mused with a broken voice as you faded in and out of consciousness. You felt like you could hear them laughing at you. You came to a week later, sunlight leaking in through the windows. You were…. In your room? Maybe I am now trapped here, to feed another demon you thought as you slowly rose up onto your elbows. It felt like something one of your conniving siblings would do. Gingerly, you rested a hand on your side. Amazed to find it was completely covered with gauze. A kind you'd only find in the human world. Carefully you got onto your feet, warily searching the house while holding a blade close to your chest. The last place you check was your backside porch, which faced the gardens. You made a face of disgust as you found the white haired man sitting there, watching the cherry blossom trees sway in the wind. "What are you doing here? I told you never to return!" You said, clearly upset by his presence in your home. "Not feeling appreciative are we? I suppose I wouldn't be any kinder to someone who bested me in battle either." He remarked. Your skin boiled. "How long have you been here?" You demanded, feeling disturbed by knowing he had found your house so easily. "A week" he replied. "And what of your companions?" You questioned. "They know nothing." His answer made you feel a little better. You bit your lip before opening the door. "Come in." You begrudgingly said. Vergil got up and followed you to a library, stocked high with books. You sat him at a little table in the corner and told him to wait while you fetched some tea and snacks. You were too weak to fight, and he did save you after all. All you wanted to do at this point was convince him to leave. He accepted your offer for tea before complimenting you on the impressive amount of books you had. You replied with a sour thanks before taking your seat. Carefully, you traced the rim of your tea cup, trying to figure out how the hell you'll convince him to leave. "Your world is losing its strength." Vergil spoke out loud. "Your point?" You asked, unamused by his comment. "Well, if this world is to cave in on itself, I know of a place you could stay." He offered. Even the mere thought of it offended you. "I respect your…" You had to force out your next words. "Kindness, but I don't need help. Not from you. If this world is to falter, then so be it. I would die for it before dishonoring my lineage." You said, a certain air of dignity clinging to the words you spoke. He seemed displeased with your answer. "I'm surprised you would so willingly fall into deaths hands." He mused before taking a sip of his tea. "What does it matter to you?" You questioned, actually curious what the answer would be. "It doesn't." You were disappointed by his reply. "You can fib if you'd like, but if it didn't matter then why come here at all? Why patch my wounds? Or wait for me to awaken?" You questioned him more. He placed his teacup down. "If I may be honest, I'm bored myself. Your cunning ways has my interest piqued. Beyond that, I think you would make a great addition to Devil May Cry." He admitted. You were in no place to make demands. "If I returned with you, would you promise to provide me with the energy needed to sustain this world?" You asked. He nodded softly, but that wasn't enough reassurance. "Promise me my world will be safe…. This place… it means more to me than my own life. It has fostered and raised every generation of my family, my father left it to me. I will not see it perish." You said, your head tilted up slightly. You have always been proud and dignified. As the heir to a family should be. It was how you were raised. "I can assure you, you will be provided with enough energy to keep this world alive. But no more than needed." He said, his gaze piercing yours. He already knew well of your ways and desires. But you were both keepers of your word. "Then I will return with you." You finally gave in. He was satisfied with that, and after that you both made your way to Devil May Cry. You're lucky Nero isn't there when you arrive. It saves some hassle as you and Vergil explain the specifics of the situation to Dante. In true fashion, he seems unbothered by your presence. Trusting his brother to know who's good and who's not. That was the start of your devil hunting days. It's possible your family had hid it from you, that your kind held a deep seated grudge against humans, but ensnaring and killing demons provided you with the same energy as humans did. Your power began to rise again, but only time would tell if you returned to your tricky ways.