#the calm before the magical mayhem

[flowerflamestars]

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s), Dick Grayson/Original Male Character(s), Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Barbara Gordon, Duke Thomas, Damian Wayne, Talia al Ghul, Alfred Pennyworth, Clark Kent Additional Tags: Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Basically the story of two people taking turns holding up a note, that reads: I am a FAIL SOULMATE and you are the sexiest coolest person on planet earth, Bat boys angst!, Robins bonding!, Bruce Wayne's C+ Parenting, Grief, a whole magic system I made up, Gotham City maybe literally cursed, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Property Destruction as a Metaphor for Love, Arson, Canonical Character Death Series: Part 1 of batfam soulmate au Summary:

The funny thing was, they could have met when they were sixteen.

[nell0-0]

Could you possibly do a fic where the Chain meet Legend's cucco companion, Piyoko? I want to see their reactions to her :D

Sure thing! Sorry for the wait, but here it is ^^

Main characters: Legend, Four, Wild, Wind & Warriors (+Piyoko, of course!)

“Legend, don’t freak out, but don’t you dare move.”

…Not exactly the words one would like to hear first thing in the morning before coeherency made its appearance on his brain, but he would have to deal as usual, Legend figured. What went wrong now?

“…why” Legend said, voice thick with sleep and slightly slurred despite his best attempt.

Turning the other way and sleeping this problem away was so tempting. Problem he wasn’t aware of, mind you, because he could more or less glimpse everyone else around camp. Either sleepy, still snoring or staring at Legend with an intensity only deserved for a dangerous foe or-

“There’s a-“

Legend reached above his head, his hand colliding with something soft, a familiar texture greeting his cautious fingers.

“Wait, stop!”

“Goddesses, he’s doomed.”

“Legend, noooo!”

Grabbing whatever it was, a suspicious squeak as a result, Legend used his elbows to hold his weight while he looked at the cause of alarm for the three dumbasses in front of him.

“Pyo!”

…a cuccoo. Well, at least it wasn’t a tiny monster out for his blood. Even though that description adhered to cuccoos most days. Not to this one, chirping excitedly at seeing Legend’s messy face with dry drool still on the side of his mouth.

The others (just three of them, at least) had jumped back. He had expected the over the top reaction from the champion, who was wieling a soup ladle as if it was a weapon. Not so much from Wind who shouldn’t know what they were since he didn’t have them on his era and he hadn’t yet been attacked by an angry flock on this adventure. Definitely wasn’t expecting Four with a… cane? A magic cane.

A magic cane he hadn’t told Legend about. Darn it.

“Really, guys? First thing on the morning?”

“Why are you so calm about this?” Wind squinted at Legend, taking Wild’s soup ladle and poking at Legend’s face with the round edge. Wild shot Wind a betrayed look, who shrugged in response gesturing at Legend in a baffled manner.

Four’s eyes seemed to shimmer a myriad of colors, his face contorting awkwardly as if he couldn’t decide on whether he should laugh, get concerned or scold them all and go back to sleep.

“Guys, it’s okay, it’s just Piyoko.”

Holding the cuckoo, no longer the little chick she had been while on their adventures with Din’s troupe and the Nayru fiasco, Legend cooed. Wind poked at Legend again, bewildered. The look Piyoko threw the sailor was murderous, the poor kid backing off as if burnt and abandoning the wooden ladle to its uncertain fate. In retaliation, Wild flicked the kid on the forehead, quick to retrieve yet another soup ladle from his seemingly infinite supply on that slate of his.

Why soup ladles? Why not swords. Goddesses knew Wild never had enough of those with the rate he kept breaking them at.

Only Four seemed coherent enough to get them back on track from their usual shenanigans, despite being the less alert of the three.

“Piyoko?”

“Piyoko” Legend smirked. Four’s eyebrow twitched.

“And who’s Piyoko supposed to be? Aside from a cuccoo, I mean.”

“My cuccoo.” At the united front of three unimpressed heroes, Legend relented. “I’ve raised this mayhem bird from before she hatched from the egg.”

“What.”

How eloquent, Wind.

The commotion had seemed to catch Warriors’ attention. Or maybe he had been listening the whole time and Legend had just not noticed. Give him a break, he had just been rudely woken up without a good reason from his power nap after the second shift of the night watch. If he wanted to be grumpy or mad about that fact, he was well within his rights.

Either way, as usual, Legend thought while rolling his eyes out of habit, the war captain butted in the conversation.

“Is that a hero spirit thing, raising cuccoos?”

When Wild and Four shot him bewildered looks, probably questioning if Warriors also had a hidden cuccoo somewhere, Warriors was quick to deny it. Weird.

“If it is, then maybe that’s where Linkle gets it from.”

Legend stared at Wind uncomprehendingly. No way someone had named their daughter that, right? Right?

“Exactly my point.”

Okay, nevermind, apparently Linkle was a thing now, and both the captain and the sailor seemed to know her. How that was possible since, supposedly, none of them had met before this journey of nine heroes, was anyone’s guess. But neither asked about Ravio living in his house earlier that week, despite those two also impossibly knowing the scammer, so Legend wouldn’t ask about this either.

Four sighed, as if incredibly tired of this conversation already — Legend had been the one woken up, not Four, the nerve — he asked “and who’s Linkle?”

“My sister.”

Wild stared. “Your what.”

“You have a sister?”

“Not the point!” Warriors flushed, pointing at Legend. Trying to redirect the dumbass trio’s attention back to him, it seemed. That fucker. “Why are you asking me about my sister when Legend is still holding that cuccoo like nothing!”

Maybe if he was more awake, or if Legend wasn’t secretly elated that Piyoko had sneaked out to join him that day, he wouldn’t have said the next words. As it was, he was way too tired to care.

“To be fair” all eyes snapping in his direction, Legend grinned. “I threw Piyoko at Ganon.”

…

“Why did I never think of that.” Wild stared off at the morning sky, looking as if the world had opened new possibilities he hadn’t been aware of before. It was probably accurate, too.

Four just gaped at Legend, for once at a loss of words.

“She almost plucked an eye out. It was awesome.”

“Weaponized cuccoos.”

“Terrifying.” Wind may have said that, but the glint on his eye told another story.

Warriors took a step to the side, putting some distance between himself and the sailor, seemingly having an internal crisis.

Huffing, Legend dropped his weight on top of his bedroll again, Piyoko flapping her little wings before gently settling on top of his head. While the others woke up and those four got their shit together, Legend was sure he could manage to sleep another five minutes.

[orphicrose]

I got bit by a spider a while ago and it made me come up with this request idea, imgiane Alastor x reader were they were already together and one day they come to him with a spider bite and then he aboustly looses it on Angel even tho the reader persists it wasn't him it was an actual spider and AL is like "doesn't matter! I'm not letting any spider harm you!" And Angel is like "HEY! IM A SPIDER DEMON NOT A SPIDER! AND I DONT BITE...unless ya want me too, and what are ya a spider racist?" And its a stupid argument but Alastor is still mad at Angel for a spider bite he didn't cause and Charlie and Vaggue have to break it up. 🤣

Tiny spider

This was really fun to write. Thank you so much for the suggestion

_______________𖤐

Alastor was always your night in shining armour when it came to bugs. Hearing your squeals of terror from the room next door to him, he could always safely assume it was because of some sort of mutated beetle or spider. And he was right 90% of the time. He’d swiftly eliminate the threat, sometimes letting it outside. Sometimes calling over niffty to have her fun with it. This time, though, he was too late. It got you. Seeping into your skin with its sharp fangs before you had the chance to notice it was on you.

Flinging your hand about in sheer panic, you let out a cry for help. Alastor assuming someone had murdered you, materialising into the room next to you hearing his hands. Ready to smite someone with his black magic at any given moment.

You turned, showing him the tiny red mark at the end of your finger. He calmed down, posture adjusting itself. He took your hand in his, moving his monocle closer to his eye to get a better look at the microscopic mark the even tinier perpetrator had left on you.

“What happened my love? A paper cut?” He mindlessly questioned to the sobbing face in front of his.

“It got me…” you almost wept from the panic.

“What got you, my darling” his arms slithered around your waist to pull you into an embrace.

“A spider”

His pupils dilated at the sentence, his beloved was hurt and his instincts tell him to seek justice. Arms pushed you away and within the blink of an eye, was on a search for said spider. There is was, all of its arms waving about in front of him, golden teeth bared ready to attack its next victim.

“Yeah so, now I have to work all day to make up for it tomorrow” angels arms waved around, exaggerating his story to the cat behind the bar in front of him.

“Uh huh.” He responded nonchalantly , cleaning a glass in his hand with a mouldy cloth. His face slowly lifted to see the spiders face, but his eyes widened when he saw the enraged Alastor behind him. Thinking it was for him, but almost relieved when Alastor reached for Angels neck from behind.

Angie screeched in a mix of confusion and fear, managing to twist his flexible body around in the deers clench. Soon being thrown to the floor “What the fuck are ya doing there, Alastor?” His voice was nervous, backing away as he was planted below him.

“You bit my darling y/n. Spider” he walked slowly toward the spider, before he burst out laughing. Leaving the confused Alastor with a tilt in his neck. “You think this is funny?”

Angel struggled to form a word between breaths of air. “Let me guess. Y/n got bit by a spider and you’re automatically gunning for me?” He got up, hand on his knee to help him.

“That’s a bit discriminatory to us spiders, we don’t all have 8 legs yanno?” He dusted his blazer off and wiped away a tear from his eye. Alastor losing his temper the more he spoke. Someone needed to pay for the harm, he thought.

Within seconds hell broke loose. Charlie and Vaggie rushed to the lobby after hearing something break. To be met with glasses being throw at the wall, a black tentacle slapping husk around the face, angels golden tooth glaring as he shot anything that moved and a fire In Alastors eye that said “death to all”. It was mayhem.

Before they had a chance to react, another scream came from the living room. Stopping everyone from what they were doing… except for niffty. Niffty was still cleaning up after everyone like a mad man.

Rushing to the room next door, the group stopped in their tracks to find you hiding on the mantle piece above the fire place.

“My dear? What’s the matter?” Alastor spoke first, stepping into the room.

“SPIDER!! ITS BACK TO FINISH ME OFF!” You screamed, pointing at the tiny black spec on the floor.

“Oooohh…” everyone in the door way collectively hummed, realising the mistake.

“what have you got to say to me now,huh?”Angel poked his shoulder, the demon gritting his teeth as his head snapped back.

“There’s still time to kill you, Angel dearest!”

[naffeclipse]

Okay hear me out.... Journey to west au. Sun being the monkey king from the book and Y/N a traveller. Y/N rescues him from under the mountain and he joins them in their travels. Moon is a demon that's terrorising a town until Y/N and Sun stop him. Moon then joins the two. Finally Eclipse is another demon that kidnaps Y/N in order to eat them but instead is so utterly charmed by them that he joins the party. Shenanigans ensue... Thoughts?

The great monkey king is indebted to a mortal but he has little qualms with escorting you on your travels as a way to give his thanks for rescuing him from underneath the mountain. His magic and strength are at your disposal. Strangely, you prefer traveling peacefully and quietly, avoiding trouble and helping those in need when the two of you come upon them. The monkey king thinks you are vulnerable and too trusting, and he decides to protect you at all costs.

The lunar demon does not take kindly to his mischievousness and destruction being wrought, but when you and the monkey king stop the mayhem he inflicts upon a small town, the lunar demon can't help but become amused and intrigued by a daring, bold mortal who is so calm in the face of dangerous, sharp teeth, red eye demon. He thinks you are naive and foolish, but he follows you and the monkey king because who else will watch over you at night? Who will keep you safe from the other toothy and red-eye demons?

It is not too long down the road of your seemingly endless travels that a problem arises. The monkey king and the lunar demon venture to the river to fetch you food and drink and while you toil, you feel the shadow of a great personage fall upon you before you are snatched away. You struggle and call for your dear, new friends, but the dark being smuggles you into his cave. He ties you up and leaves you on the floor of his home as he prepares to eat you. You, however, remain calm and speak with the great demon and learn he is the eclipse prince. The eclipse prince wants nothing more than to cook and devour you, but you convince him to allow you to serve him tea first. Pleased by the offer, the eclipse prince unties you. You serve him a tea you have used to comfort the monkey king and calm the lunar demon, and speak with the eclipse prince. The conversation continues until the pot of tea is gone and he tells you to prepare another, pot after pot until he is laughing and telling you that he has forgotten his hunger—your charm and allure have sated him. He will let you go and return you to your companions, but you invite him to join your company.

The eclipse prince is pleased to accept. He opens his cave and returns with you to the monkey king and the lunar demon. When you come upon them, they are furious and frantic. They act quickly to take you back and prepare to attack the one who carried you away before you calm them. The eclipse prince stands rather unapologetically as you explain that he is now joining the three of you. The lunar demon does not take kindly to this change and the monkey king hovers close to you, refusing to let you leave his sights while the eclipse prince seamlessly joins the camp and prepares a pot of tea for you to drink.

You continue your travels, glad to have such devoted company.

[ectoberhaunt]

Ectoberhaunt 2023: Science VS Magic

Dear Phandom new and old, sorry for the delay but this here is our 2023 theme and prompt list! Once again we've changed it up a little to make it a little easier on all of us, and to invite fun and mayhem Phandom wide! Prompts are once again Monday-Friday, with Friday being singular prompts, and weekends being (mostly) free as catch up days. The only real change is our new 'isekai weekend' on the 21st and 22nd, with two different sub prompts for the days. Isekai is a subgenre of anime in which a character ends up in a different place or world all together. It literally translates to 'otherworld'! The two prompts for this weekend are 'past prompt', where we want to see the Phandom use a prompt from either of our previous calendars. The other is 'portal shenanigans'. We highly encourage you to create crossover content and AUs you've wanted to play with. As always, our last prompt day is October 24th to make way for the Ectober Week event. This means our free days are the 1st, 7th, 8th, 14th, 15th, with the 25th-31st being @ectoberweekofficial's time to shine. Please tag all prompt fills as "Ectoberhaunt23", and follow the additional posting guidelines below!

Posting for this event begins October 2nd!

Down below are our written out calendar prompts (for accessibility) AND our posting guidelines. Check 'em out!

The Prompts

Below are the listed prompts in date order, if it's blank it's a catch up day. First prompt is Science, second is Magic!

-

Tecnomancy vs Botonamancy

Black Cat vs White Crow

Aliens vs Zombies

Hunt vs Haunt

Tabletop

-

-

Robots vs Dragons

Pseudoscience vs Occultism

Dread vs Calm

Obsession vs Repression

Horror Flick

-

-

Revenant vs Death Echo

Blood vs Flesh

Unravel vs Intertwine

Claws vs Horns

Danse Macabre

Isekai: Past Prompts (2021 | 2022)

Isekai: Portal Shenanigans

Technus vs Magic

Science vs Dora Ectober Week!

coming soon

coming soon

coming soon

coming soon

coming soon

coming soon

coming soon

Post Guidelines

The following are the posting guidelines. Please follow them so we can reblog and share your posts without issue. We will also have this as a post available on our blog separately.

Tag all posts with “Ectoberhaunt23” so we can find it. If you do not use this tag, we may not find you.

Tag which calendar you're pulling from (“EH Science” or “EH Magic”), which day the prompt is for ("Day X"), and which prompt(s) you completed ("Eyes" "Teeth"). Example: #ectoberhaunt23 #EH science #day 5 #hunt Single day prompts, such as the ones on Friday, do not need a tag for which calendar it's for.

Put your fics under a readmore. Add a summary before the cut with a short preview, content warnings, and which prompts were used. Then, add a readmore no more than 150 words or 10 lines/groups of text under your summary. If you're using mobile, type :readmore: and hit enter to make a readmore. If you do not do this, we will NOT reblog your post.

Make sure to tag all common content warnings (blood, gore, death, drugs, body horror, existentialism, & vermin)

We will try to reblog every prompt we can. Feel free to @ us in the post too or send us a DM with the post!!

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Here is a spreadsheet you can use to track your progress made by the talented @ajitated

Title graphic by @kawaiijohn | Calendar graphics by @ajitated

[mariaofdoranelle]

Stage Kiss

Written for Throne of Glass Microfics

This accidentally ended up the size of two microfics but I’m tagging you if you’ll still have me @throneofglassmicrofics

Prompts: mainly indulge but I ended up using mayhem too

Warning: teenagers

Words: 1,9k 🫣

1st run

Today, at 3:30 p.m., Rowan would kiss Aelin Galathynius on the cheek.

Pathetically enough, this little knowledge was on the forefront of his mind all day. Not his classes, no. Just Aelin’s ivory—occasionally rosy—cheek.

“Whitethorn!” Fenrys shouted in the hallway several steps behind, forcing him to turn and stop so his friend could catch up. “Looking good,” Fen said, playfully slapping the back of his hand against Rowan’s bicep.

Rowan rolled his eyes. He thought that going to the gym every day—plus taking supplements behind his mom’s back—would magically make him more confident. It didn’t. The only difference was that he looked slightly less thin, so now Fenrys occasionally catcalls him and reacts to his IG stories with the flame emoji.

Even worse, Remelle Wiselheade was now hitting on him. His plan to get Aelin’s attention absolutely backfired.

As if he was a mind-reader, Fenrys said, “And how does it feel to be Aelin’s husband?”

Rowan blinked. “Uh…”

“I mean in the play!” Fenrys threw his head back and cackled, then urged them towards the school theater. “Bro, you’re—“

“I obviously knew that!” Rowan said, defensive.

He was just taking theater classes because his mom thought it’d help him with the shyness. But Aelin? Aelin Galathynius could give Margot Robbie a good run for her money—in both talent and beauty.

If enduring his crush on her during classes wasn’t enough, they were acting as husband and wife for this play.

And it required him to kiss her on the cheek.

He was glad that Mr. Emrys, their drama teacher, had a no-kids-kissing-on-stage policy. Rowan was half a lip virgin—that thing with Lyria didn’t count—and while having an almost first kiss with Aelin would’ve been great, he wasn’t looking forward to a very public cardiovascular malfunction.

Once inside, he quickly found her by a wall with Nehemia. Aelin didn’t see him at first, but he slowed his pace to look at her better, making Fenrys—who was right behind him—trip and take Rowan down with him. Not down, since both recovered before falling face-first on the floor, but the whole thing was loud enough that now he had Aelin’s attention. At the worst moment imaginable.

She smiled at him and sent a tiny wave, and by the poorly hidden smirk on Nehemia’s face—very similar to Fenrys’—she must’ve figured out his crush on Aelin. She had to. Nehemia Ytger was one of the smartest people he knew, he just hoped she’d keep her mouth shut for now.

Once everyone gathered around Mr. Emrys and he gave them directions for today, the first rehearsal for Hamlet began.

It passed like a blur until the scene arrived.

[Modified Act 1, Scene 2]

The court gathers. Claudius stands before the throne—simple practice chairs, actually—with Gertrude at his side. Hamlet watches from a distance, looking somber and disapproving.

Rowan didn’t want to read too much into why he learned even the narration. He turned to his “court” and said:

Though my dear brother’s death is fresh in memory, we must also move forward.

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

Gently holding Aelin’s hand, Rowan swallowed and almost froze when it was time, but her encouraging smile propelled him further.

He might’ve just dipped in and out, but feeling her skin under his lips was the quickest yet longest second of his life.

His cheek kiss was followed by deafening silence. For a second Rowan thought he’d embarrassed himself somehow, until he found everyone staring at Fenrys, waiting for Hamlet.

His friend looked like a deer in the headlights.

“I forgot.”

“A little more than kin, and less than kind, Moonbeam.” Mr. Emrys took a calming breath. “Let’s do another run of this scene, shall we?”

2nd run

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

Rowan took Aelin’s hand again. Both experience and her open expression made him kiss her cheek more confidently this time, and he was calm enough to enjoy the moment.

The same awkward silence again.

“Mr. E, I have ADHD,” Fenrys protested, though the twitch in the corners of his mouth betrayed the seriousness. “Don’t you think it’s a bit fascist of you to make me learn all these lines in medieval?”

It’s called ‘Early Modern Common Tongue’, Moonbeam. You’ll learn with practice.” Mr. Emrys settled back into his seat. “Let’s do another run.”

4th run

By now, Rowan was very well practiced in kissing Aelin’s cheek.

Because of the political nature of their characters’ marriage, a greater actor would make Claudius give Gertrude a triumphant look rather than a fond one, but if Mr. Emrys wanted a great actor, he should’ve thought twice before casting Rowan.

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

As practiced, he reverently took Aelin’s hand and leaned in for the cheek kiss.

But she turned her head. The spot on her cheek that he focused on became a blur, and before he could grasp the situation, he felt the softness of her lips in his.

An awkward miscalculation on her part.

Or was it?

The way Rowan jerked back in surprise made their peck quicker than the other kisses.

“Whitethorn!” Mr. Emrys called, one finger pointed at him. “That was supposed to be on the cheek, mister.”

He froze, glancing wide-eyed between the teacher and Aelin’s mischievous look. He could protest and clarify that she was the one to incite the kiss, but that would just be loser—worse, virgin—behavior.

Rowan may be both, but he sure wasn’t acting like it.

With the snickers that came from the students, their teacher’s stance relaxed. He slowly shook his head and muttered, “Teenagers,” as a chuckle escaped him.

5th run

Rowan was determined to return Aelin’s peck, which meant that now stakes were higher. This time, he was even more nervous than before the rehearsal started.

She is cute. Rowan really likes her. And she kissed him first.

And this self-pep talk was shit at calming him down.

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

Instead of holding her hand, Rowan held her jaw instead. By their silent exchange, she had an inkling of what was coming, and her expression seemed welcoming. A quick brush of his thumb as another warning, and he leaned in.

Pillowy soft lips briefly against his was a brief shoot to the skies and back.

It was quick. It was glorious. The sweet, sticky feel of her lipgloss was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“A little more than kind, and—“

“Gods, Fenrys, it’s kin!” Nehemia shouted from the sidelines, distracting the teacher enough to forget about the kiss.

After this, Mr. Emrys stopped complaining—he had bigger battles to fight.

7th run

After their third kiss—plus four on the cheek—Rowan began to wonder if it was too soon for a “What are we?” conversation.

Maybe he should ask her out.

Scratch that, he was absolutely asking her out. If he got rejected, life would go on���after he changed schools.

Therefore, I have married my brother’s widow, Gertrude, to strengthen Denmark and honor our kingdom.

Rowan stroke her cheek with his thumb and leaned in once again for their peck, but once he did, Aelin threaded her fingers through his hair and kept him there, tilted her head. She waited a second for his response, then retreated once it didn’t come.

Shit. Was this—

With hawk-like speed, Rowan grasped her face with both hands before she could draw back and… well, it was too much of a whirlwind inside his head to make sense of what was going on. All he knew was exploring tongues and her hands on his neck and his heart that threatened to leap out of his throat to interrupt the kiss.

He couldn’t believe he was kissing Aelin Galathynius, and she felt so soft. Soft lips, soft skin, a soft sigh that he felt in areas he’d rather forget to not embarrass himself.

“A little more than kin, and—HOLY SHIT”

The absolute silence turned into mayhem once Fenrys abruptly addressed what was going on. Once he did, the students howled and whistled at them.

However, the only reaction he cared about was Aelin’s, who stared at him with flushed cheeks and wide turquoise eyes that sparkled with something he couldn’t quite place. She giggled and hid it behind her hand, and the sight of her nervous excitement brought a funny feeling to his stomach.

“Okay, that’s enough,” their teacher said to interrupt everyone’s shouts and cheers. “Moonbeam, you’ll arrive with your lines fully memorized next time—this is not a request. Everyone’s dismissed except for Whitethorn and Galathynius.”

The mood immediately sobered as students grabbed their things between whispers. It didn’t affect him like people thought it would, though. Rowan had just kissed Aelin—with tongue. Mr. Emrys could put him in detention ‘til eternity, he didn’t give a fuck.

They got ready to leave along with everyone else, but gathered around the chair their teacher was still on once the theater was empty.

A twitch of Mr. Emry’s lips into a firm line told them he was trying to get into ‘stern teacher’ mode. He’s not really the authoritative type, but they broke the rules, and it was in the job description that he plays a role for discipline’s sake.

“In the script, it says ‘kiss on the cheek’, and I need my actors to do exactly as scripted, okay?”

Rowan and Aelin both muttered their agreements.

“Great. If that—“ Mr. Emrys pointed at the spot their kiss happened. “happens again, I’ll have to take measures all three of us won’t like.”

“We understand.”

“Great.” He said in an upbeat mode, without his ‘stern teacher’ frown, switching back to ‘nice teacher’ mode. “Glad that’s settled. You can go now, but I want you in your best behavior from now on.”

The thing about Mr. Emrys is that he’s a really cool dude. He rarely gets angry at his students, most times it’s an odd sort of fond exasperation. It worked on their favor this time, but Rowan wouldn’t take it for granted.

Outside, Aelin stopped once the door was closed. So did he. The playful flirtation they had during rehearsal was gone, and Rowan was unsure on how to make a move in this awkward silence.

It was now or never, though.

Aelin chuckled and went her way down the hall, which he followed beside her.

“So, that happened.”

He gave her a brief, close-lipped smile. “I was thinking…”

“Yeah?” She swiftly looked up at him, eyes wide.

“Doyouwannagooutsometime?”

Rowan hoped the blood rushing into his cheeks wasn’t visible from outer space.

Aelin had both hands gripping the shoulder straps of her backpack as she fought the corners of her lips from quirking up.

“Sure,” she said. “Do you have something in mind? Because there’s this movie I really wanna watch—”

“We can watch it.”

Aelin bit her bottom lip, eyes brimming with amusement. “I haven’t told you which movie it is yet.”

He tilted his head, silently urging her to give the information.

Please, anything but that gorey demon one he saw last weekend.

“Do you wanna go see Healers vs. Demons?”

“Sounds great,” Rowan half-lied.

Any movie sounded great if it was on his first date with Aelin.

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[monstersdownthepath]

Homebrew Horror: Vodani, Nascent Demon Lord of Intoxication and Anger

(Art by the amazing @stranger-chads!)

First mentioned here, Vodani is one of the least ambitious yet most active among the Nascent Lords, never truly vying for territory but viciously holding what power and reach he stumbles into with a ferocity and determination that cause most others to simply leave him to his own devices. His primary concerns in his day to day life are acquiring alcohol to drink and people to drink it around (specifically around, and uncommonly with), and though he can conjure seemingly bottomless amounts of it and convert even pond scum into a palatable beverage, he's always hounding for a flavor of spirit he's never tasted before, which is one of his motivators for venturing into the world of mortals.

The primary motivator, however, is only barely more complex than that of most demons: chaos, mayhem, destruction, and the corruption of innocents. Vodani takes on the appearance of a common human vagrant or wanderer to inveigle himself in established populations of the destitute and downtrodden. With endless gifts of cheap drink and drugs woven between sob stories he's collected from hundreds of past victims, Vodani establishes himself as a strange but beloved member of the community, where he works to ignite the fires of hatred within them.

Vodani uses inflammatory rhetoric to gradually unite the societies he infiltrates against specific targets, most of them nobles or government officials, or members of an organization with considerable power over the poor (such as bankers, guards, and local guild members), preferring to pick whomever would cause the largest power vacuum if they were removed from their position and/or cause the largest breakdown of societal order (his least favorite type of order). This habit causes many to call him the Prince of Paupers, believing him a figure of hope and unity, but this is false hope at best; Vodani is not driven out of a sincere desire to help, but a demonic desire to destroy. He intentionally steers people away from any solution that does not lead to violent revolution and utilizes drugs, social and societal pressures, and his magic to prevent anyone from speaking against him or offering relief to his "friends," victims of his toxic influence who quickly find themselves with few choices but to continue wallowing in his lifestyle of violence, indulgence, and hate.

Were the Lord of Gin truly a bringer of rebellion and freedom, he would actually stay to help the reconstruction once the dust settled, or even help at all. As it is, the targets of ire he chooses often serve as convenient scapegoats for the actual reason inequality runs rampant; he may target a guard captain enforcing unjust laws while treating the council who made the laws as an afterthought, or call for the death of a king who is unaware that his advisors have been wringing areas of the city dry behind his back. Vodani gets his fill of destruction quickly once he's gotten a whole riot going, wading into the fray to kill and destroy with savage impunity, often felling friend and foe alike. Whether or not his assembled "freedom fighters" actually succeed in destroying their perceived "oppressors" and "enemies" or if they themselves are routed is of little true consequence to him, with the fiend vanishing from the world once his cruel work is done to let everyone else shoulder the consequences. Any actual good that may emerge in the wake of his riot is purely accidental, and hearing that he has bettered a city sends him into a frothing fury which takes him days to calm down from. He often goes out of his way to either send his followers into the same city or slither back in himself to make it burn down 'for good this time,' and this is one of the only things in creation which can give him actual focus and motivation to plan things over the course of the long term... provided he doesn't completely forget about why he was so angry in the first place during days of senseless rage and endless drinking.

Vodani appears to be a humanoid with an extremely severe case of jaundice and lengthy fingers that end in sharpened, bony points. He wears shabby local clothing and is always clutching a bottle of spirits he takes frequent drinks from. His head is his most startling feature, taking the shape of a tapering pillar of flesh that swirls as though it were smoke in a vortex, solid yellow eyes and a mouth filled with shark-like teeth emerging and disappearing at random in the twister. He has a strange amount of control over his malleable head, able to shape it into distorted faces and exaggerated expressions at will, or even lash his head out like a tentacle to deliver bites to distant foes.

Even when magically disguised, his pure yellow eyes or sharpened teeth randomly peek through to reveal his true nature, forcing him to take pains to hide them with long hair, facemasks, tall collars, or other coverings. His commonalities with the Ginever are noted by most who know of both him and the strange, alcoholic carnivores; many believe him to either be their progenitor, or a member of their kind who ascended to demonhood. He gives contradicting reports, alternatively calling them his children, his kin, his subjects, or his parasites, seemingly just to annoy anyone trying to find a concrete truth. What is known is that any mortal who drinks themselves to death with alcohol he's interacted with in some way has a chance of returning to life as a Ginever. When asked of this phenomenon, he is curiously quiet.

Vodani, the Demon at the Bottom of the Bottle CR 23 Chaotic Evil Medium Outsider (Chaotic, Evil, Demon, Extraplanar) Init: +7; Senses: darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Detect Good, Detect Law, True Seeing; Perception +37 Aura: Unholy Aura (DC 29)

------- Defense ------

AC 45, touch 35, flat-footed 38 (+7 Dex, +4 deflection, +10 natural, +14 luck) HP 530 (26d10+364), Regeneration 15 (Good) Fort +27, Ref +33, Will +27 Defensive Abilities: Freedom of Movement; DR 15/Cold Iron and Good; Immune: Charm and compulsion effects, cold, death effects, electricity, disease, poison; Resist: Acid 30, Fire 30; SR: 35

------ Offense ------

Speed: 60ft, climb 20ft; Air Walk Melee +3 Improvised Weapon +38/+33/+28/+23 (1d8+10/19-20), claw +28 (1d6+4 plus Intoxicant), bite +33 (1d8+7 plus Intoxicant), OR two claws +33 (1d6+7 plus Intoxicant), bite +33 (1d8+7 plus Intoxicant) Ranged +3 Thrown Improvised Weapon +38/+33/+28/+23 (1d8+10) Space 5ft, Reach 5ft (10ft with bite) Special Attacks: Cloak and Dagger Tactics (DC 28), Intoxicant, Jaundiced Gaze, Sneak Attack +2d6, Whatever's At Hand Spell-like Abilities (CL 20th; concentration +31)

Constant--Air Walk, Freedom of Movement, Detect Good, Detect Law, True Seeing, Unholy Aura (DC 29) At-will--Charm Person (DC 22), Greater Dispel Magic, Greater Teleport (self plus 50lbs only), Invisibility (self only), Suggestion (DC 24) 3/day--Create Drugs, Crime Wave (DC 27), Mass Suggestion (DC 27), Song of Discord (DC 26) 1/day--Dominate Monster (DC 30), Life of Crime (DC 29), Summon Demons or Ginever, Time Stop

------ Statistics ------

Str 24 Dex 25 Con 38 Int 20 Wis 27 Cha 33

Base Atk +26; CMB +33 (+4 when performing Dirty Trick); CMD 66 (+4 vs Dirty Tricks)

Feats Catch Off-Guard(B), Cloak and Dagger Style, Cloak and Dagger Subterfuge, Cloak and Dagger Tactics, Dirty Fighting, Dirty Trick Master, Grab and Go, Greater Dirty Trick, Improved Dirty Trick, Improvisational Focus, Improvised Weapon Mastery, Multiattack, Quick Dirty Trick, Throw Anything(B), Vital Strike

Skills Appraise +15, Bluff +40, Craft (Alchemy) +34, Disable Device +26, Disguise +17, Escape Artist +21, Intimidate +40, Knowledge (Local) +34, Knowledge (Nobility) +15, Knowledge (Planes) +16, Perception +37, Perform (Comedy) +21, Perform (Oratory) +31, Sense Motive +37, Sleight of Hand +26, Stealth +30

Languages Abyssal, Common, Dwarvish, Draconic, Orcish; telepathy 300ft, Tongues

SQ Change Shape (Any humanoid or monstrous humanoid; Alter Self or Monstrous Physique I), Drunken Demagogue, Happy Hour, Nascent Demon Lord traits

------ Ecology ------

Environment: Any urban Organization: Solitary, hellions (self plus 3~10 Ginever plus 10~30 humanoids), riot (self plus 10~20 Ginever plus 30+ humanoids). Treasure: Triple standard

------

Combat: While preferring to never battle any foe with a reasonable chance of fighting back, Vodani is a bewildering foe to battle on even terms and will utilize his feats to hamper his foes via rapidly-delivered Dirty Trick maneuvers before beating them down with whatever he has available as the negative conditions mount. Capable of turning anything into a deadly weapon, Vodani is never truly unarmed and will utilize any lull in the combat (or rounds in Time Stop) to customize his held item with enchantments he feels would best harm his foes; he usually begins each day having a single bottle opener or corkscrew he keeps loaded with Anarchic, Human-Bane, and Unholy already on his person. If his foes are intoxicated, he will attempt to use his spell-likes to convince them to either fight on his side, fight with each other, or not fight at all.

Morale: The Lord of Gin turns invisible and flees any fight that is no longer "fun" for him, typically meaning fights in which his foes take no damage from his attacks, cannot be meaningfully impaired with Dirty Trick, and any combat where he is reduced to 200 or less HP. If prevented from fleeing, he flies into an indignant rage and fights to the death.

------ Special Abilities ------

Drunken Demagogue (Ex): Vodani's drunken swaying allows him supernatural grace when avoiding danger, granting him a luck bonus equal to his Constitution modifier to his AC, his CMD, and to his Reflex saving throws. In addition, inebriated creatures have a significantly harder time resisting his words. When communicating with inebriated creatures--even one unwillingly rendered drunk by Vodani's own abilities--Vodani gains a +5 profane bonus to Charisma-based skill checks against those creatures, and those creatures have a -5 penalty to saving throws against Vodani's mind-affecting spells and abilities. If a creature is normally immune to mind-affecting effects, Drunken Demagogue allows his spells and abilities to pierce this immunity, but the spell or effect ends instantly when the creature is no longer drunk.

Happy Hour (Su/Sp): Thirteen times a day as a swift, standard, and/or move action, Vodani can conjure a bottle or flask of any common, nonmagical alcoholic drink he desires, or which is desired by someone he is speaking to (even if they don't know the specific name). This power is often used when he is attempting to lay low and appear as a mundane citizen, but when wishing to appear miraculous, he is also capable of using Rotgut or Enhance Water as spell-like abilities at will on any liquid he can touch even a small portion of, and Tears to Wine as a spell-like ability up to five times a day.

Vodani can consume single servings of alcohol (the bottles/flasks he summons contain three servings each), as well as potions, tinctures, and similar items as a swift action without provoking an attack of opportunity. Each time he drinks a serving of alcohol, a potion, or a tincture, he recovers 1d8+5 hitpoints and may make another saving throw against any ongoing effect on himself.

Intoxicant (Su): Vodani may, as a free action once per round when successfully damaging a creature with his claw or bite attack, threaten to convert a portion of the liquids in that creature's body into alcohol. That creature must succeed a DC 35 Fortitude save or take 1d4 points of Dexterity and Constitution damage and become sickened as though they had drank too much (alternately, a failure raises the victim's level of inebriation by 1, if using the alternate rules present in Inner Sea Taverns). A creature that fails their saving throw against this ability while already inebriated takes 1 additional point of Dexterity and Constitution damage. A creature suffering any amount of damage from this ability becomes vulnerable to Jaundiced Gaze and Drunken Demagogue via the alcoholic infusion. This is a poison effect.

Jaundiced Gaze (Su): While his mundane alcohol is typically enough to get what he wants, Vodani can dramatically enhance the effects of nearby alcohol with nothing but his gaze in a 60ft cone. Any alcoholic beverage in this cone is converted into a ferocious brew; one serving counts as four to any creature not immune to poison, and creatures normally immune to poison can be affected by the drink, though they treat it as only one serving. Alchemical and magical liquids almost always contain at least traces of alcohol in them which is enhanced by this ability, rendering the substance useless; such items can resist this infusion with a DC 35 Fortitude save. Inebriated creatures who meet his gaze while this ability is active must succeed a DC 35 Fortitude save or become confused, fascinated, or prone (his choice) for 1d8 rounds. He may activate or suppress this ability at will as a free action.

Nascent Demon Lord Traits: A nascent demon lord is a powerful demon that has not yet made the full transition from unique demon to full demon lord of an Abyssal realm. They have several traits, as summarized here:

Immunity to charm and compulsion effects, death effects, electricity, and poison.

Resistance to acid 30, cold 30, and fire 30.

Summon (Sp) Once per day, Vodani can summon any demon or combination of demons whose total combined CR is 20 or lower. He can instead choose to summon two Fiendish Ginever with up to 12 levels of any one class each. This ability always works, and is equivalent to a 9th-level spell.

Telepathy 300 feet.

Vodani’s natural weapons, as well as any weapon he wields, are treated as chaotic, epic, and evil for the purpose of overcoming damage reduction.

Vodani can grant spells to his worshipers. He grants access to the domains of Chaos, Community, Evil, and Trickery. His favored weapon is improvised weapons.

Whatever's At Hand (Ex/Su): Vodani is a master of bar brawls and improvisation. He gains Catch Off-Guard and Throw Anything as bonus feats. Any item he uses as an improvised weapon is treated as if it were a +3 magic weapon (dropped or thrown weapons lose these qualities at the end of the turn). As a standard action, Vodani can further empower anything he is wielding--even a weapon that is already enchanted--with up to +3 worth of additional enchantments selected from the following list: Anarchic, Bane (the Bane type is chosen each time this ability is used), Cruel, Deadly, Flaming, Frost, Keen, Throwing, Shock and/or Unholy. These enchantments last until Vodani uses this ability again, or if the improvised weapon leaves his grasp for longer than 1 minute (which allows him to temporarily lend out enchanted armaments). He cannot use this ability to bring a weapon's total combined enchantments above +8.

[swordduels]

He is sitting there, minding his own business as well, wanting to get away, but knowing by the time he reaches the gate, he will be a donkey once more, so he is trapped here, with them, around himself nothing other than idiots as well on every single possible level. “Tsh.” As he rolls his eyes and would eat the apples that had been chopped up, he did not wish to see her, or anyone else, he wanted to be left alone, to work, which was to do nothing at all, he had his human body back, he was content, but escape, was impossible for him, as he would feel the itch for the moment and his ears would twitch. “Ugh!” Why, what had he done right now, what had he done this time, what had he done to deserve this as his ears had stretched and sat upon the top of his head, again, once again the proud set of jackass ears, why! Because he stole the apples, or because he killed the visitors that came here, which was it this time around, can he be left alone and not become a mule, could she leave him alone for that!

Circe had been bored out of her mind ever since Clarimonde decided to turn back to her precious farm. There was so much potential for chaos and mayhem since the gates were wide open for everything to pass through. It was somewhat amusing to witness the accidental moments when magic was performed but other than that she was dissapointed.

She had offered to be a teacher but Clarimonde had been so busy. Building things. Visiting families. Act as a teacher. Holding rituals. Giving orders. Having children, yuck. That snotty baby and the adopted twins took away even more time that could be spent to learn magic.

She did admire the effort of building a cult but they could be so much more.

Circe believed this day would have the same old pattern of everyone waking up, having a meal and doing chores. But she soon found out something had changed. After swirling around Clarimonde she returned to see Regulus back in human form. Feasting on apples while piles of bodies had colored the floor.

Oh dear. This was unexpected and troubling...

The witch swirled towards him. "Hmm. I see you havent quite turned back." She stated whole looking at his donkey ears before sitting down beside him. "So, what is your plan now?" Clarimonde had done something right when making a barrier to keep him from leaving by turning back into a donkey. They also managed to put protective spells on themself and the children.

The question was, was it enough?

He was still a dangerous force and people had already been sacrificed to his whims. She didn't mind violence or blood but a man child such as Regulus truly didn't deserve such incredible powers.

No. She wanted a fierce witch to rise above petty men to make them bleed and beg for forgiveness. Circe wanted someone like Clarimonde to give into rage, become a master and take away their dignity.

Clarimonde had to survive...

"You did make quite a mess in here and since you killed these ones, their loved ones will wonder where they went. Then there will be more people arriving to search for them. Not to mention people who are trying to prepare the very food you are eating or those who come to pray in your honor." For once she wasn't spitting out insults or spoke in a condecending tone. Instead she was calm and collected.

"What do think will happen if you keep killing people like this?"

@fallesto

[the-rad-pineapple]

magic whump prompts

Day 4 - 9/26: "Leave me alone!" / bonus: emotional powers

This is based off this loose X-Men First Class AU thing I’m messing around with. There is lore/backstory I have ideas for that’s hinted at in this little fic. It's also not as whumpy as I thought it would be, so sorry for such a lack of whump in this little oneshot thing.

~ ~ ~

Charles feels it farther away than he thought he should. It’s a series of emotions. Flashing quickly. Powerfully. Chaotically. Whatever is happening is big. And it’s hurting a lot of people. Their thoughts are too jumbled and strong for Charles to separate them. To find who each thought belongs to. He’s racing towards it before thinking twice. 

They’re all over there. 

The other mutants. All of them. His new found family. They can’t be gone. 

Not so soon. 

There's pain. Searing. Debilitating. So much. Too much. Who. Who is it! Is it someone Charles knows?? 

Raven?? 

Erik?

Anger. So white hot it feels cold. Like a blue star. The tip of a metal fire poker. The drop of a roller coaster a moment before the sharp descent. It’s the most dangerous form of anger. Calm and collected. Controlled and sharp, like a hidden knife, deadly only by the precision of its wielder.

And then…

Fear. It clutches at his chest. Cold. Suffocating. Paralyzing. His footsteps stutter, and he breathes in a ragged breath.

Oh, God, please. Let them be okay. Please. 

Charles doesn’t even believe in God. 

His shoes slap loudly on the pavement. And then he can see it. Smoke rising above the nearby buildings, difficult to see in the darkness of night. Charles reaches his mind out. Searching. Feeling. Desperate to find answers but afraid of what he might see. There’s so much pain and fear. And they’re such strong, primal feelings they’re difficult to sort through. It’s not the usual thrum of low-level, day-to-day thoughts he’s used to. 

People race around the corner, and Charles slams into one of them. He’s thrown to the ground, and his head smacks painfully onto the sidewalk. 

Shit. 

He scrambles up, heart in his throat, and races onward. He blindly reaches out with his mind as he races towards whatever is causing this mayhem. And then he feels him. 

Erik.

That tranquil anger. It’s usually like a river. Rushing steadily yet calmly. But now…now it’s a waterfall. Not exactly chaotic, but unceasing. Impossible to ignore. Loud. Overpowering. 

Beautiful.

Erik is floating in the center of the street. Cars and buildings—even lampposts and fire hydrants—are bent towards him as if he’s their center of gravity. Charles has never seen him use his mutation before. He still isn’t even exactly sure what it is. But it’s obvious that Erik is powerful. 

There’s a group of people huddled behind a car, hands gripping each other, eyes pointed at the sky, fearfully searching for Erik, despite being unable to see him from their position. With a careless gesture, Erik sends the car crashing into a building. The fear from the people skyrockets, slamming into Charles. He clumsily puts up his mental shield a few seconds too late. He’d let it down in his search for the other mutants, uncaring what he let in. 

Erik floats down towards the group of people, a thousand different images of their deaths flashing through his mind. It’s almost satisfactory. But it’s…not. Death is not satisfactory. These are Erik’s desires. He’s become so entangled with Charles, Charles is having difficulty separating his own thoughts from Erik’s. He’s never struggled with that distinction like this before. 

Then Erik’s feet soundlessly meet the ground. His rage thunders in Charles’ ears.

“Erik!!” Charles calls. 

Erik freezes. His shoulders straighten, and his back goes rigid. 

Charles takes this time to slowly approach. “Erik, listen to me. Please. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hurt them.” He’s inching forward. 

Erik slowly turns. His eyes are cold. Distant. “You don’t even know half the pain they’ve caused me.” 

“I…” I do. 

But Charles can’t say that, can he? Because then he’d have to tell Erik he’s been able to read his thoughts this entire time. That he’s been a mutant this entire time. That he’s useless and pathetic and has gotten some of their brothers and sisters killed. That he’s worse than the humans that Erik hates. And that Erik should hate him, too. 

Erik will hate him, too.

“Erik.” It comes out breathless and weak. 

“I’m sorry, Charles, but this is who I really am.”

“No, it’s not!”

“You think you know me??” He suddenly advances, and Charles stumbles backwards. “I’ve killed people, and I will kill them again.” 

Images flash through Charles’ mind then. Erik’s murders. Blood, and its warmth and metallic smell. Eyes filled with fear. Bodies laying peacefully on the ground. Cold ruthlessness. Sick satisfaction. A sense of pride and justice. 

It’s a stab to the heart. Because it’s wrong. What Erik has done—what he’s doing—is wrong.

And Charles can’t—he can’t take it. He reaches a hand out towards Erik. He can almost touch him. “Erik—” 

“Leave me alone!” he shouts, shoulders moving from the harshness of his breath. It’s then that Charles sees his tears. They fall silently and leave twin tracks down his cheeks. “Charles, I—” His voice wavers. He grabs Charles’ outstretched arm and pushes it back towards him. “I am not who you want me to be. I am not kind. I am not nice. And I am not forgiving.” 

“You’ve been all those things to me,” Charles whispers, tears of his own spilling down his face.

“You are the only human who’s ever been kind to me first.”

And Charles cries harder, lip wobbling and tears falling, because he can’t even be that for Erik. He can’t be the kindest human Erik’s met. He can’t be his hope that there is good in humanity. He can’t be the reason Erik changes his mind about them. Because Erik will never believe it until he sees it. Until it happens to him. And he thinks it has. But it hasn’t. 

Because Charles isn’t human.

Yet he’s still everything Erik despises. Everything Erik claims all humans are: liars, weak…

The reason mutants are dead.

Charles is shaking his head before he even realizes he’s doing so. “Erik, I…I’m not human.” 

A beat. 

“What.” Erik comes closer. Just a couple steps. But now they’re close enough Charles can feel the puff of Erik’s breath on his face. “Charles…” He’s searching him, looking almost…wondrously at Charles’ face. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“I— W-what?” 

One of Erik’s hands gently cups Charles’ cheek. Charles blinks in surprise, shocked at how gentle Erik is. Shocked at the intimacy he’s sharing with him. Their closeness. Charles instinctively reaches out to Erik’s mind to see what he’s thinking. Why he’s doing this. Why he’s not upset. 

That familiar anger greets him. Not quite the waterfall it had just been, but not as calm as the usual river either. Almost like rapids. Bumpy and wild and bordering on uncontained. 

“Did they do this to you?” Erik asks. Steel is in his voice. Hatred.

“Do what?” 

Erik brushes the side of Charles’ face, the ghost of a touch just above his ear. 

Pain. Sudden and sharp. 

Charles recalls falling on the pavement. 

Erik continues, “Humans hurt you, didn’t they?” 

Charles swallows, throat suddenly dry. “They were running from you, Erik.”

Erik’s gaze hardens, and he pulls his hand away. “You cannot keep advocating for them, Charles.”

“And you cannot keep hurting them!” he exclaims. “You are the reason they are so afraid!”

“They are always afraid. They are always violent.” 

“Not all of them! Not all of the time!” 

Where the hell is Erik? I am not leaving without him. There’s not much time. Where the fuck is he??

They’re not his own thoughts, but the tone of them is familiar. It’s someone he knows. It’s—

It’s Raven. 

Charles immediately turns to where he can feel the tug of her consciousness. She’s panicked. She’s afraid. 

“Charles?” Erik asks, concern suddenly flooding his voice as if they weren’t just shouting at each other two seconds ago.

Charles turns back to Erik. “It’s Raven. She’s looking for you.” His tone is clipped and cold. 

“You heard her?” 

“She’s over there,” Charles says with a quick nod. 

But Erik is shaking his head as if he’s the one who can read minds. “Come with us.” 

“Erik, I—” 

“Please.” And then he steps closer. They’re not even a foot apart. “We need you, Charles.” 

I need you. 

“O-oh. Erik…”

“Please? We can do this together.” 

“No, no. Erik, I— Violence isn’t the answer, and I don’t want any part of that.” 

“Then let’s discuss it. Later.” He places his hands on Charles’ shoulders. “Once you’ve come with us.” He doesn’t look away.

I have to make him see. I have to make him see. Doesn’t he realize I don’t beg for anyone but him? That I can’t fucking do this without him?

“Okay,” Charles hears himself agree, ears ringing, heart stuttering at Erik’s thoughts. 

Surprise splashes across Erik’s face before he quickly conceals it.

“Now,” Charles urges. “Before I change my mind.” 

[deathmetalunicorn1]

hi! can i ask another part for male demonic vessel reader cus i absolutely love the plot😭

so like what if one day y/n & Atropos magically split (but only a few days)

but unexpectedly instead of causing destruction & carnage to everyone and thing in the universe,Atropos just stays the whole time sticking by y/n's side,like an protective dog,cus after all those centuries of being in one body,Atropos has to have even a little bit of care & affection for y/n?(even if he cause 99.9% of y/n's trauma)

& y/n is there just hating Atropos as atropos annoyes & torments him,

and Atropos would outright flirt with [love] to mess & stress out y/n even more & [love] is very weirded out seeing atropos a being that's probably choes itself flirting with them & looks identical to y/n,and there's poor y/n trying to stop Atropos from flirting with [love],and i feel like Atropos would be the type to also flirt with y/n himself for shits & giggles just to mess with the already stressed out god.

and finally how would y/n, [love] & the other god's & humans, handle & keep the chaotic being at bay?.

-It was an accident, an attack that went wrong in many different ways. There was an attempt on your life, trying to kill Atropos, but when you were hit the magical attack, rather than killing you and Atropos, it split the two of you apart, giving Atropos his own body.

-This caused a lot of yelling and panicking, seeing Atropos was free, but for some reason only known to him, he didn’t attack, he didn’t go on a rampage. He just stayed by you, pulling you into his arms, hugging you close, “You look so cute like this Y/N~”

-You weren’t expecting him to flirt with you- and you definitely weren’t expecting him to look exactly like you, just with bright red eyes. You put your hand on his face, trying to push him back, “Get offa me!!”

-Atropos whined, trying to keep his arms around you, “Y/N~ Don’t you love me? We’ve been together for so long~~~” he was irritating- of course you didn’t love him! He caused you so much grief and heartache!!

-(Love), when he heard about the attack, ran to you, worrying only to find… another you pinning you to the ground, flirting shamelessly with you.

-He froze, not really sure what he was seeing, looking between the two of you before Atropos noticed him and turned, beaming as he leapt up and leapt into (Love)’s arms, “Hello my love~~”

-You scrambled to your feet, “Get away from my (Love)!!” Atropos just wrapped his arms around (Love)’s neck, grinning like a little gremlin, “But the three of us have been together for so long~ I wanna hug him too!”

-(Love) was very confused at what was going on until you grabbed Atropos by the back of his pants, pulling him off your lover, “Get off him Atropos!!”

-(Love) was stunned, realizing this other you was Atropos- the two of you splitting into two bodies- nearly identical to one another!

-Your attacker had been quickly apprehended, with (Love) demanding he was brought to justice, something Zeus and Odin took care of, because what if Atropos wasn’t peaceful and being a gremlin to you and (Love)- what if he attacked- your attacker would be at fault.

-You were beside yourself when you learned that this situation you were now in was going to be for at least a week, meaning you had to deal with a gremlin flirting with not only your lover, but you as well, until he would return to his place inside you.

-(Love) wasn’t happy with this situation either, seeing you so upset, and he had to be careful to not mistake Atropos for you when he was flirting or trying to get handsy with him- not wanting to upset you any further.

-It was strange, to have Atropos being so…so calm- he wasn’t causing any mayhem- no trouble, no violence, no revenge- no anything! Other than teasing you and (Love).

-By the time the two of you became one again, Atropos thankfully, knocked out and was asleep and you hoped he would stay that way. You collapsed into (Love)’s arms with a deep sigh leaving you, making him laugh as he picked you up, “I’m glad to have you back to myself. Although~~ it was kind of interesting seeing Atropos flirting with you.”

-You smacked his chest lightly, making him laugh as you felt so drained, hugging him as he sank into your shared bed, the two of you both exhausted, glad for things to be back to normal.

[colourful-designs]

Good v Bad Witches

Good v Bad Witches

There are good witches, and there are bad witches. They each follow their own path and carry their own magical energy, but these two types of witches don’t always get along very well. Whether it’s differences in their magical practice or simply the way they live, you’ll rarely find them hanging out together. Good witches are often seen wandering through the beautiful parts of the forest, where everything seems to sparkle with life, while the bad witches prefer darker places, hidden from the light, where their mischief brews like a bubbling potion.

The Good Witches: Nature’s Guardians

Good witches are often called the protectors of nature. They embrace positive magic, focusing on love, light, and the well-being of others. These witches live harmoniously with nature, often using their magic to heal, nurture, and grow the world around them. In their parts of the forest, trees seem taller, the flowers more vibrant, and the air carries a sweet, calming scent. Their spells are often cast to bless the land, bring abundance, and guide others toward self-awareness and growth.

Good witches believe that magic should be used for the betterment of all living things. Whether it’s casting spells to help crops grow, creating protective charms, or offering guidance through tarot readings, their work is focused on giving back to the earth and the people around them. Their tools might include herbs, crystals, and symbols that represent balance and protection.

They are also the ones you might turn to for a little extra luck or a gentle nudge in the right direction. Ever hear of someone wearing a charm for good fortune or carrying a crystal to protect their energy? That’s the influence of the good witches, spreading positive energy and helping people connect to their inner magic.

Good Witch Rituals and Practices

A good witch’s rituals often take place during peaceful times of day, like dawn or dusk, when the veil between the worlds is thin, and their connection to the universe is strong. Their spells are often rooted in intention-setting, gratitude, and mindful meditation.

One popular ritual performed by good witches involves setting up an altar to honor the earth and its cycles. This altar might be adorned with flowers, candles, and crystals that correspond to the witch’s intent. Whether seeking guidance, healing, or protection, the good witch will call upon the elements—earth, air, fire, and water—to assist in her magical work. These rituals are done with care and respect for nature, ensuring that the energy exchanged is always for the greater good.

The Bad Witches: Mischief and Mayhem

On the flip side, bad witches are drawn to a darker kind of magic. It’s not necessarily evil, but it is often driven by personal gain, revenge, or a desire to manipulate others. These witches operate in the shadows, often visiting the bad witch club, a hidden and mysterious place where their schemes are hatched. Here, they exchange tricks, charms, and spells with one another, constantly seeking new ways to bend situations in their favor.

The bad witches enjoy pushing boundaries, testing the limits of what magic can do. They are known for crafting spells that confuse, mislead, or play with emotions. Some might even use their abilities to stir up trouble in communities, creating conflict or chaos where there was peace before. It’s all part of the thrill for them—seeing how far they can push before the balance tips too far.

But bad witches don’t spend all their time brewing trouble. Sometimes, they indulge in browsing magical products that offer shortcuts to power. Darker crystals, sinister spellbooks, and enchanted tools that promise swift results appeal to their desire for immediate outcomes. They have little patience for the slow, natural ways of the good witches, preferring instead to grasp power quickly, no matter the cost.

Bad Witch Rituals and Practices

The rituals of bad witches often take place under the cover of night, when the moon is hidden behind clouds, and the world is quiet. They prefer to work with ingredients like bones, thorns, and venom, all of which carry an edge of danger. Their spells are less about harmony and more about disruption. For example, a bad witch might cast a spell to cause a rival to lose their way, both literally and metaphorically. These witches often create poppets or talismans charged with dark energy, designed to manipulate the fate of others.

Their rituals are fast, chaotic, and often involve making deals with darker forces. Unlike good witches, who carefully weigh the consequences of their actions, bad witches are more likely to take risks, crossing lines that others wouldn’t dare.

Why Good and Bad Witches Don’t Get Along

It’s not hard to see why these two types of witches don’t mingle. Their fundamental values are in opposition. Good witches focus on healing, growth, and maintaining balance in the universe. They approach magic with reverence and respect for the natural world. Bad witches, on the other hand, are drawn to power, control, and often use magic for selfish reasons.

While good witches might view the actions of bad witches as reckless or harmful, bad witches often see good witches as naïve, too soft to fully harness the potential of magic. This difference in philosophy leads to tension and, at times, outright conflict. While it’s rare for good and bad witches to directly clash, the divide between them is clear, and neither is likely to step into the other’s world.

The Balance of Magic

At the end of the day, magic is about balance. There are forces of light and dark, and both have their place in the universe. The key is understanding that one cannot exist without the other. Good witches may not approve of the methods of bad witches, but they recognize that without darkness, the light would have no meaning.

For witches, whether good or bad, the most important thing is staying true to their path. Magic isn’t inherently good or bad; it’s the intention behind it that shapes its impact. So while good and bad witches may never see eye to eye, they both contribute to the ever-shifting balance of energy in the world.

[oh-hell-help-me]

Day 15: Doomsday

What happened next was, as Bowser would put it, a big clusterfuck.

Luigi never expected to see a Paper Person again -never mind a psychopath whose fashion sense should have stayed in the 16th Century.

Ironically, that was the least of his worries when the whole world literally flipped on its axis.

“LU-!“

His stomach turned when he realized that was BOWSER, and he wants to reassure him, but-

He’s alone now.

Except-

“Now then.”

That figlio di puttana-!

“Let’s get this show started!”

Mario hadn’t expected to see the Paper version of himself again, or even Paper Peach and Bowser.

He just wishes it was under better circumstances…

“Dimentio?”

Paper Peach nods, “He’s a magician we’ve met before. We thought we’d ended his game, but…”

“The idiot seems to think HE could just waltz in and 'destroy all worlds'!” Paper Bowser seems to be angrier than usual, and it gives Mario near whiplash whenever he thinks about his calmer (nowadays, anyway), fleshy counterpart. “So we're here to finish the job!”

“But why is he here?”

Mario feels something in his stomach sink when they all share a look.

“...We think he's trying to get your Luigi.”

And just like that, Mario felt like the world was ending.

"Why?!"

"I would like to hear the answer as well."

It's a near miss when Mario lashes out, feeling too overwhelmed- where's Luigi, he needs to get to Luigi- but not enough to not recognize the familiar sight of Kamek.

To his credit, the Magikoopa barely flinches as he floats on his broom.

“Kamek?!” At least everyone else was just as surprised.

"You weren't at the throne room, but I figured I could follow the sound of your shouting." His gaze seemed to sharpen, even if his eyes were hidden by his glasses. "Why is he here? And if so-"

Wait, why is he here-

"Are his abilities great enough to overpower transportation wards?"

Mario felt sick- surely he misunderstands--

The tense atmosphere says otherwise.

oH fu- "Can you take us to the castle?!"

He barely registers the confusion and surprise of the Paper versions before there was a poof-

And find themselves in the midst of mayhem.

Bowser wasn't thinking straight, but screw anyone who faults him for it!

He didn't register the newcomers as anything other than possible threats, and Mario and Peach were pushing it as they approached HIS NEST AND KIDS-

And then a wave of calm washed over him, a blue haze rolling over his scales with familiarity-

Kamek.

The world is less overwhelming, but the 'talk' that came after threatened to have his temper override the magic.

It felt like the world was ending for Bowser. Hell, their world's doomsday is technically on a countdown, if Paper Peach was to be believed.

Dimentio… a stupid, regretful name if you ask him.

And the fact that this guy kidnapped Luigi?

That the shitty jester plans to use him- have Luigi kill millions against his will? The same Luigi who Bowser watched as he cried over a smushed butterfly?

That Luigi might be somewhere alone, scared, maybe even hurt? Especially after...?

That Luigi's scared face might be the last thing he sees-?

When he finds the damned smiley fuck-

T H E R E W O N ' T B E A N Y T H I N G L E F T T O R E G R E T.

Luigi couldn’t remember- what did he do whatdidhedo-

The- jester- Dimentio- he had this heart- it won't stop beating stopbeatingSTOPBEATING-

It hurts to think about how he BrOkE hIm is breakinghim- he can't concentrate with that DaNnAtO lAuGhTeR- hAhaHaha-

GeT OUTGETOUTGET-

"It seems you are a bit more... resilient in this dimension." He hates-DESPISES that sMiLe- "Here, let me help you~."

And then, it went dark.

And Luigi couldn't help but be glad.

[thorn-rosed]

Why is all we ever do is seek for glory and success?

Until the glory becomes prison, and the success turns to stress

The high gave us wings, but they were made of paper

Oh lord, take me back to before this torture chamber

I do not care about the money or the fame

Fuck no, it doesnt matter if they don't know my name

Barty Crouch Jr ;

The italian drummer and background singer seems like the heart of the group. He is energetic and outgoing, a little bit crazy and the absolute fan-favourite. Fans have been questioning his sexuality for the past few years, but it wasnt until the last pride month he finally made a statement: "I don't give a fuck about your gender. If you're hot imma smash you. Hell, I'd go down on a car it looks at me right way." Barty is accused of having an affair with Evan Rosier, due to flirty comments or making out on stage. How serious this should be taken can only be guessed, because neither of them made a statement to this yet. The background singer is streaming on Twitch every Monday, Wednedsay and Saturday at 10pm MET.

Evan Rosier ;

He is french, he is unsettling, and he is probably the bands' biggest unknown syllable. While he seems to be quite comfortable around his friends, the bassist seems tense and out of place as soon as the camera is turned on. Yet, once he is surrounded by fans or not under pressure, Evan is pretty demanding and creepy. With statemente like "I am the only god." or "If you dare to visit me tonight, I'll cut you open and fuck the insides." he is often target for criticism. The latter quote was a statement towards Barty, which people rumour Evan has an affair with.

Regulus Black ;

Born into a family with old money and a good reputation, the youngest son of the black empire was supposed to follow the family tradition and inherit his father's companies. This was after Regulus' older brother Sirius ran away and distanced himself from the family, making Regulus the only heir. But to his parents' disappointment, the musician decided to follow his passion instead, and became the guitarist of the band "Magic Mayhem". To everyone's shock, Regulus was spotted on what seemed to a date with his brother's best friend, James Potter, not long after that. A month later they confirmed their relationship, and said that it had going on for a few years already.

Pandora Rosier ;

She's calm, collected and exzentric: Pandora Rosier, Evan's twin sister, is the angel of the group. There are barely any who can say a bad word about her, though she does seem weird from time to time. For example, often she tells people their future or blesses them. Pandora labels herself as a witch, and even people who normally dont really believe her, seem to trust Pandora automatically. This could be part of the witch-thing, or simply be her calming aura. The singer impresses fans with her big vocal range, making her able to sing almost everything from metal to opera. And Pandora has a hidden talent! As a child she learned to play the violin, and according to herself, she still does it quite often. So far this talent has not been used for any songs, but perhaps it will one day!

I just want back my peace, want back my old life

Before the devil is here, with that grin and his knive

Because he knows that he can hurt me

he knows I can't fight what I can't see

And the reason for it all is, oh yes!

That all we ever do is seek for power and success

[bubbl3zdaseaotter37]

Whumptober 2024

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

A/N: For this one at first I was like, “magic with a cost?” In Half-life? “It’s us or them,” I could see a little better, but then it dawned on me.  Gordon Freeman is literally the KING of unconventional weapons.  Crowbar?  Check.  Zero Point Energy Field Manipulator (gravity gun) you can use to violently CHUCK THINGS at people?  Check.  Even magic with a cost I eventually figured could fit the vorts.  SO.  Here we are.  Ready to cause some mayhem!  And I decided that, yes, this takes place shortly after my fic, “Aliens and Adrenaline.”  Not a prereq for understanding this one, but a fun way to add in a little extra whump ;)

See you on the other side! (If you stick around that long.) ((Please do!))

“Dammit, Keller, I told you before. It’s us or them.”

Gordon Freeman crept to a stop at the corner, listening to the heated argument of the two marines in the adjacent corridor.  In one hand, he held a crowbar, encrusted with blood both human and otherwise.  The other was clamped securely to the gash in his side, a lovely parting gift from one of the three-armed, green energy-ball slinging aliens that were spontaneously materializing around Black Mesa Research Facility.

“I know, I know,” the second Marine, Keller, replied defensively.  “It just feels… wrong.  They’re unarmed.  I thought we were being sent into this hellhole as reinforcements, not to slaughter innocent civilians.”

Cautiously, Gordon peeked around the corner.  Neither of them faced directly towards him, but he didn’t dare come out any further, lest they spot the movement in the corner of their eyes.  Although he had found himself able to overpower one or two Marines at a time, he knew that this would be too much.  Even with the newest dose of morphine lingering in his system, he could feel cold and lethargy slowly creeping into his limbs, as blood slowly oozed out from between his fingers.

But the Marines weren’t what he was really interested in.  Even after watching what they had done to some of his coworkers, he was loathe to kill them mercilessly.  Weren’t they fighting for the same end, to stop the end of human life as they know it?  It was the medical kit mounted on the wall behind them that he was interested in, along with what appeared to be several crates of ammunition and a radio.

“Innocent?” The first soldier said indignantly, “Those eggheads are the reason we’re here in the first place.  Can’t leave well enough alone. And that Freeman guy—”

A pang of… Something struck Gordon’s chest.  In the time since the resonance cascade, he hadn’t had the time – nor the energy – to think about all of that.  He had been too busy trying to survive.  And stop a rip in the fabric of the Earth from destroying life as they knew it, of course.  That was a given.  Was all this his fault, though?  He could have refused to go through with the experiment.  He certainly had the grounds to, after all.  The danger had been obvious long before they went through with it.  If not him, though, then who?  And at what cost?

Gordon pressed his left hand tighter against the tender injury in his side, using the pain that flared, despite the morphine, as a distraction.  Surprisingly enough, the quiet, analytical thinker had learned that the one thing you didn’t do was think.  It was stopping to think that got you killed.

In the middle of their argument, the Marines turned their backs on the hall behind them as a staticky voice crackled through the radio.

“Target reported in sector Alpha, oh-five-niner.”

Silent as a cat, Gordon crept around the corner towards the two unsuspecting Marines, hefting his crowbar in his free hand.  Despite his calm exterior demeanor, his pulse thundered in his ears.  He forced his breaths to flow quiet and steady.

“Freeman is armed and dangerous—”

A familiar, warping, flanging sound directly behind him easily forfeited all need to stay quiet.  The Marines turned.  Instinctively, he dropped to the ground, grunting at the violent tug on his injured side.  A green, humming ball of pure, concentrated electricity whizzed over Gordon’s prone form.  It slammed into the two Marines, who went crashing into the crates behind them. 

Almost as quickly as he dropped, Gordon was back on his feet again.  His chest heaved, and his vision spun dangerously for several seconds; his pulse throbbed in tandem with the pain in his side.  Ignoring the trembling in all of his limbs, he raised his crowbar high—

Only to see the three-armed alien already collapsed on the floor.  It was alive, that was for certain.  It was also breathing heavily, clawed fingers twitching, the large, single eye in the middle of its leathery-skinned face rolled back, half shut. 

Gordon took a shaky step back – more of a stumble than a purposeful movement, and leaned back against the crates at his back, staring at the incapacitated alien in front of him.  As far as he could tell, it had no obvious external injuries.  No vibrant green blood pooled on the floor, no obvious discoloration of its tough, leathery hide.  It almost looked to be… exhausted.

With a wince, Gordon let his raised arm drop to his side.  There was no morality in killing a debilitated opponent.  He knew that, even if it was from the cheesy action movies with their righteous heroes that his younger self had watched with his dad on the weekends in their garage in Seattle.

For a long moment, both man and alien recovered in silence.  The radio crackled back to life.

“Repeat, Freeman is armed and dangerous. Kill on sight.”

A/N: so, I know this one is out a day late, and I still haven't finished prompts no. 2 and no. 6, BUT. Here it is. A (semi) sequel to Aliens and Adrenaline. Yay!

[indigodiskmybeloved]

Terapagos' Wasted Potential and My Rewrite of This

Aside from Pecharunt and Zygarde, I think Terapagos may be the most underutilized and wasted potential in all of Pokemon.

The second I saw Terapagos' design, I was hyped for the little turtle. I was attached to the theories and predictions surrounding it.

I am a HUGE fan of the trope of "ancient giant dead creature being the land in this world." Like the Titan's body in The Owl House.

I know it was just a theory and most likely wasn't going to come true, but I was hoping that Terapagos was Paldea. Imagine how cool it would be for Heath and Professor Turo to be searching in vain for Terapagos, only for it to be the land of Paldea the entire time!

That would be a generally more interesting idea and honestly kind of cool to see in the DLC!

So what did Gamefreak do? How did they write the story of Terapagos?

Simple. They didn't. There is not much of a story for them, which kinda sucks.

All we know about Terapagos is that there were more of them before they went extinct, and it's the source of Terastal Phenomenon.

How does a small turtle have enough power to put Tera crystals all over Paldea, Kitakami, and Blueberry Academy?

Short answer: It's a magic Turtle, stop asking.

Because why spend time developing the basic world building of your region when there's other things to explore.

Which brings me to my second point:

The Indigo Disk Was More of Teal Mask Part 2 Than Its Own Story

The Teal Mask DLC was FANTASTIC. It had an engaging and interesting story, especially with the role swap with the Loyal 3 and the Ogre. Still wished they did something with Pecharunt relating to the Loyal 3, but it's acceptable.

But the Indigo Disk should have focused more on Area Zero and Terapagos, rather than Kieran's revenge arc. Terapagos was just a plot device for Kieran to grab, not its own separate character. Have Kieran's arc be a separate story from the Terapagos story.

Or shit, wrap up Kieran's story with Possessed Kieran in Mochi Mayhem or something. If you give too much spotlight to a character, other characters end up forgotten about, or underdeveloped.

And that is my main issue with Terapagos. We learn NOTHING.

How did the little turtle give Paldea so much power? Why is this one hibernating for all this time? If this baby could hibernate and be fine, why couldn't the other Terapagos' do so? If they had enough power to potentially danger the world with crystals I doubt tectonic plates could kill them!

Which brings me to my third point.

Terapagos Being the Land of Paldea Would Make a Fuck Ton of Sense

Let's look a the Pokedex Entries:

"The world as the ancients saw it" and "resembling a planet floating in space"

Terapagos is referencing the World Turtle, the story about a Turtle who CARRIES THE WORLD ON ITS BACK

You cannot give us this information and have a design inspired by a turtle carrying the world on its back and NOT GIVE US TERAPAGOS BEING PALDEA

Past legends like Necrozma and Eternatus had giant otherworldly magical forms, which looked threatening. They resembled the source of what power they give to the region! Ultra Necrozma stole the world's light, and Eternatus turns into a giant fucking hand!

If you wanna make Terapagos a bit of a threat at least, make it the region. Up until this point, we've been told that Terapagos terastilizing is gonna doom Paldea and put it in danger.

So, in the scenario of the giant Terapagos being the land of Paldea, what would happen if it woke up?

Kieran pulls out the crystal of its child, and the big Terapagos notices that their child is not near them.

And then the world shakes, and Terapagos awakens. Kieran and the others find out that the world of Paldea is on a giant turtle with no way to calm it down.

Now there's much more at stake here, and it genuinely sounds cooler than a baby turtle choosing its new parent.

Now you might be asking, "Its a Pokemon game! They don't need to explain everything!"

This is the same company that brought us the story of Scarlet and Violet. We got the AI Professor, the truth about Team Star, Nemona, Arven, Penny, the Teal Mask, just all of it.

To end the Indigo Disk on a bit of a lackluster note, it's kinda sad. There was so much they could have done with Terapagos, but they just left it empty.

[thatonebirdwrites]

Should I be working on finishing the Supergirl Mayhem fic? Yes. Did I finish all the art I was assigned? Also Yes. Do I feel like I should write this chapter as a little treat for having only three more scenes left in the mayhem fic? Also yes. So here we go. A chill chapter about cleansing magic. Truces, and maybe allowing healing and forgiveness to sprout its roots. The next chapter will be Kara and Lena's first date! (Finally! it kept getting postponed.)

EXCERPT:

Lena rises before dawn, prepares her corporate armor, and heads to her full-time job as CEO of L-Corp. Today’s agenda includes three meetings, an hour of lab time, a brief lunch, and a visit to Florence in late afternoon. 

It’s the visit with Florence that troubles her the most. The exposure to the strange artifact gave her unsettling dreams, and she woke in a cold sweat after a particularly gruesome one. In that dream, she’d had no control over her body, and could only watch in horror as another person used her body and golden energy to harm all she loved.

Kara had woken too, or maybe she’d never actually slept. Lena recalled how Kara admitted to not really needing it. Either way, she’d helped calm Lena down by counting breaths with her until Lena’s heart slowed, and her vision no longer swam.

“You feeling better?” Kara gently brushes hair from Lena’s face. It’s moments like this, when she’s feeling vulnerable and shaken, that Kara’s touch turns extra careful. She’s always so careful with Lena, her affection so measured, and now Lena can see it’s because of her superpowers.

“A little,” Lena says, quietly. As she shivers from her nightmare, she zeroes in on the uncertainty in Kara’s expression. As if she doesn’t know exactly what to do. Lena is nothing if not perceptive, and focusing on Kara pushes the horror of the dream into a box to peruse later. 

She buries her fingers in Kara’s luxurious locks and scratches the base of Kara’s skull. The feel of Kara’s skin — soft and yet not — grounds her. Kara’s scent is jasmine tonight, likely because of Lena’s own conditioner since Kara’s had been out of hers. It’s something she noticed the first time Kara invited her over — how Kara prefers little to no scents unless it’s jasmine or sandalwood. Likely due to her sensory issues. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kara asks. Like she always has. Always willing to give Lena space to share or not share. 

“It’s just a nightmare,” Lena deflects. “Not real.” 

“Nightmares often reflect something that scares us,” Kara replies. “I know for mine it’s about loss of my planet, of those I love. Being trapped in the phantom zone again, being in an enclosed space unable to get out.” 

Lena breathes out a pained breath. It hurts to hear the trauma Kara carries within her. “I dreamed of all of you dying because of me.”

Again Kara’s fingertips are light and soft against her cheeks. “That sounds terrifying. What would help you feel better?”

It’s been a long while since they’d done the poetry sharing tradition. Not since the weeks before Kara’s confession. Lena had been unwilling to keep it up, caught up in her troubling thoughts, going over all their past interactions numerous times until she felt she would go mad, and then the moment of Kara’s death. The moment Lena resurrected her with magic. 

Going back to this tradition feels strange but also comforting. Like an old glove pulled on finally in the midst of biting cold. “Share a poem you’ve read recently.” 

“Are you sure?” Kara looks worried. 

Lena nods. “It helps.”