#they are too overpowered to be considered mortal

[master-jarrus]

Isn’t Lloyd and Nya just a pantheon

LISTEN UP NINJAGO FANDOM

GIMME YOUR DUO NAMES NOT LISTED HERE (EITHER IN BOXES OR NOT)

WE NEED IDEAS PEOPLE

ALL OF THEM

(also sorry about the picture this is on my school Chromebook)

[lazyneonrabbitt]

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Adar x Reader | SMUT🔞

You find your Lord Father in a crowd of Uruk, facing off against a warrior and find out new things about him after.

Based off this meme post and with a special appearance of Pushkrimp who belongs to @holykhepri (I hope I did him justice, friend!!)

Cheers and howls could be heard far past the borders of the Uruk campsite, the place you called your home now as well.

Taken in as a stray who mamaged to worm her way into their leader's heart you, a simple mortal, now lived among the ones that were considered even lesser beings.

You had heard these sounds often before.

On quiet days the Uruk men fought, for entertainment and prizes of weapons and food rations. It was the only thing they could place bets with.

The only off thing about it all is that Adar was nowhere to be found. You wandered around the camp in spirals, getting further towards the camo's centre where most of the residents had gathered. Normally it was easy to find your Lord Father in these moments, and he always notified you when he'd go out.

So where was he?

In an instant the loud noises of the crowd going wild intensified, excitement carrying with the sound of countless gathered Uruk. And then stomps of weapons and feet in a rythmic pattern started, along with the all too familiar chants of "Nampat".

Curiosity got the best of you, your search now forgotten as your feet led you towards the noise.

It was easy to find the crowd, and just as easy to get to the front of it to see what all the commotion was about with all of the Uruk letting Lord Father's favorite mortal pass by.

The chants were still going as you wormed yourself past rows of bodies until the clearing came into view.

The first thing that appeared in your vision between the shoulders of Uruk still in front of you was one of the larger warriors that lived in the village. He was at least two heads taller than you and equally as wide. Thick, strong body with corded muscles under his pale grey skin adorned in warpaints and his chest adorned with two metal rings pierced through his nipples.

His pink tinted ears stood at attention, focused on his current oponent.

Adar, who you had been looking for this whole time. No wonder the crowd went so wild, they had finally gotten the match of a lifetime. Their undefeated warrior versus their Lord Father, the ancient Uruk.

You watched as they circled each other, Adar carying nothing but his sword tip dagger and gauntlet, his sword now in the hands of a young one watching on the front row who held onto it like he was given a blessing.

In the ring that had formed naturally by the crowd the two Uruks circled each other, the tall one, Pushkrimp, taunting his Lord Father who gave no thought to it.

"You know you can't beat me in battle." Adar's voice sounded and was backed up by sounds of support from the crowd.

"Humor me." Was all he got for an answer before he was charged at, only barely managing to dodge and trip his oponent, but not without being grabbed by the leg and pulled along to the ground, Adar's dagger landing in the sand just out of reach.

Adar was quickly overpowered, a smirk on the taller Uruk's face as he held fhe side of his face pressed into the dirt.

"You wanna yield?"

The crowd went wild at the quick settle, distracting Pushkrimp just enough for Adar to move his legs underneath the taller Uruk and toss him off of him and getting back up.

"I don't yield that easily."

The truth was, he had no option to overpower the much larger Uruk before him so his only option was to tire him out for now. He'd have to endure.

"Good." Pushkrimp stood tall, rolling his shoulders aa he stared down at his elder. "Neither will I."

With that he charged again, this time succeeding in grabbing and Taking Adar to the ground, knocking the air out of him and earning a loud gasp from you now on the front row.

Both sets of eyes found you, and in Adar's you saw a fire light up at that moment. With the claws of his gauntlet he grabbed right into the muscle of his oponent's arm, prying the hand off his chest and rolling from under him. Using his current position and hold of Pushkrimp's arm he tugged at it and shoved a foot into his side to topple him once again. He had hoped to get back to his dagger but the way he had tossed the Uruk he had set himself at the wrong side of the makeshift arena.

The Uruk laid on his back with a hand at his side where the force of Adar's kick had landed. It was surely going to bruise.

Adar took his chance to straddle the taller Uruk, the metal of his gauntlet pressing hard on his oponent's neck as he stared down at him, eyes dark and irises blown wide, his breaths deep and rugged.

You recognized the look in his eyes, it was one he had given you some times before in private after typically frustrating days. Days that usually ended in both of you nude and spent after hours of him letting out frustrations and you giving up your body for him.

Adar's presumed victory was shortlived as his hair was grabbed, earning a pained groan from him and with a swift move was back underneath the warrior who had a smirk on his face as he leaned down to taunt his Lord Father in black speech.

You watched as Adar took in a deep breath and harshly headbutted the taunting Uruk who cursed in return.

The two wrestled, limbs tangled, punches and kicks barely missing. It became clear Adar's stamina was much greater, and while Pushkrimp's movements got sluggish, Adar was still ever as precise with each calculated moves.

Still, Pushkrimp got quite some hits in. Harsh blows to leg, arm and torso caused many instances of loss of balance for the ancient Uruk, but the hit he took to the face was his last straw.

With a breathy roar almost he returned a punch, then two and threw him aside. Then three and Pushkrimp was on his back in the dirt, out of breath with one hand wrapped around Adar's throat to keep him at bay.

Adar sat himself atop the larger Uruk, his gauntleted hand grabbing at the one around his throat almost immediately.

The look in Adar's eyes was now obvious to you. It was a look of lust, the display of strength seemed to be going to his head and genuinely turned him on.

You thanked him for wearing his longer tunic and chainmaille to hide the effects the fight was having on him.

The crowd fell silent in anticipation as they all took in the sight before them.

Pushkrimp's massive hand wrapped around their Lord Father's throat, but his grin never faltefed even with his airway cut off. Adar's gauntlet dug deep into the flesh of the Uruk's arm, drawing blood as black as pitch.

Pushkrimp's other hand was on Adar's arm, unmoving as nimble fingers had threaded themselves through one of the metal rings that adorned his chest, and Adar pulled it taut.

You had never seen Adar so feral. Hair wild, panting and grinning and his pupils blown wide with lust, eyes wide staring down at his oponent waiting for his next move with heaving breaths.

"Yield." The old Uruk's voice rasped in the eery silence of the crowd.

Only a snarl and a deep growl came from the one beneath him, having Adar give a harsh tug at the ring, raising his brows.

A groan left the warrior, his hand letting go of Adar's arm.

"Alright I yield." His other hand let go of his Lord Father's throat, allowing the smaller Uruk to get up.

Adar's eyes were on you the second he rose back to his full height, the cheers and adoration landing on deaf ears.

Behind him you saw a group of Uruks from the crowd move to pamper their favorite warrior.

"Come, love." Adar's voice was low and his hand was on you the second you were within reach. With his palm pressed at the small of your back he led you away from the crowd and back to his private quarters.

"I've never seen you fight like that before." You tried to make conversation as you neared his home but all he did was smile down at your words.

Once you were inside Adar's home his armor clattered to the ground along with his gauntlet, the chainmaille following soon after with a thud. He was so fast you barely had time to move around before you were pulled onto the furs he slept on.

You were pulled into his arms, resting on top of him when your earlier suspicions from the fight were proven to be right.

"Adar.." you sighed against his chest. "Did the fight truly excite you this much?"

You got a confirming grumble in response, paired with a grope of your backside.

"I never thought you to be so.." Nuzzling his neck you thought carefully of your words. "So, varied, in your preferences."

Adar raised his brows and looked down at you. "Do you find it strange? That I choose to not let gender get in the way of my attraction to anyone." His hands still absentmindedly kneaded your backside, your legs having found their place on both sides of his. You could feel his hard member press against you through the layers of clothing and decided to give the one who held your heart what he wanted, grinding your hips agains his.

"Not strange, no." Your lips found his ear, brushing against it ever so softly. "I'll even admit seeing you dominate that giant was rather arousing." You swiped your tongue over the edge of his ear, earning a raspy moan.

"So different, then and now." Kissing the tip of his ear got you a harsh buck of his hips.

"Melisse, please don't tease and undress your Lord Father." Adar's hand moved up to cup your cheek and move your lips away from his sensitive ears. He was happily submitting to you but he would not show you how easy it was to bring him to his knees at any given moment. He was already embarrassingly close to finishing from just your lips at his ear.

Your hands found the hem of his tunic and began slowly moving it off him, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside before moving to kiss and bite all over his scarred forso.

You dragged your tongue flat over one side of his chest, right along one scarred over nipple that had him stir underneath you. His reaction had you humm against his skin before you bit and pulled the skin between your teeth, imitating the move that made his oponent hield earlier and making him moan out loud, more vulgar than you had ever heard him.

"Hahhhmm.. melda." Adar's hands found purchase on your hips as he ground himself on you twice, three times before he stilled with a breathy groan.

He slumped against the furs to catch his breath, panting with each teasing movement of your body above him.

You couldn't agree on which version of your Lord Father you preffered. The feral, fearless leader who remained undefeated in battle had you soak your undergarments, but the shuddering, mewling Uruk who called you every sweet name under the sun had your entire body yearn for him.

"Oh, Lord Father.." You discarded your dress and undershirt in one swift move and leaned forward. With your hands splayed out over his abdomen you squeezed your chest between your upper arms and rolled your hips ever so slowly over his twitching length. He was still hard.

"You wouldn't let your rían go unsatisfied?" Adar's hands came to find your chest. One grasp more rough than the other, even without his gauntlet adorning one of his hands. The black scars winding around his fingers were a strong contrast against the smooth skin of your breast.

When you felt he was good to go once more you moved fo fully undress the both of you and rub his cock between your soaked folds. He was stained a sheer black at the tip and below his bellybutton, evidence of finishing before.

Your pink flushed centre atood out agains his pale skin and the dark tip of his length that peeked from between your lips.

"I am for you to use as you please, my love." Adar's scarred hand ran down your body and stopped on top of your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Again he caught you off guard with his words. He had used simple terms of endearment before, but those were almost always in moments you sought comfort and reffered to how he found you pretty ams such. Not even during previous intimate moments had he made any notion that he thought of you as a partner of a romantic nature.

Never before this day had he reffered to you as his lover.

You took him in, soaking up how beautifully at peace he looked. But no matter how gorgeous he looked in that moment, you were eager and watched his mouth fall open as you moved to slide the head of his cock past your entrance.

You moaned in unison as he stretched you wide open, his nails digging into the soft plush of your thighs.

Each roll of your hios earned you a soft gasp from the ancient Uruk, having given up his body for your pleasure entirely.

It took no effort to have you moaning and nearing your own end, Adar's length fit so percectly within you he reached your most sensitive spot with each soft thrust upwards to meet yours.

You could feel it in Adar's movents aa well that he was close again.

"Where do you wish to spill, lord?" Your hand splayed out across his collarbones, just beneath his throat. Even with him at your mercy you did not dare to wrap your digits around his throat. But his scarred hand left your hip to find yours, guiding it into the perfect placement and showing you the right amount of pressure.

Adar's head tilted back, your hand was on his throat and he begged. Pleaded you to allow him to finish inside of you, for he loved you so.

You never dared to let him before, always answering his same question with an answer of 'anywhere but inside, Lord Father' as you were afraid he saw you as just a partner to bed whenever he needed relief. But now you knew those were all lies your mind conjured up.

You picked up your pace once more, pulling more and more sweet sounds from your partner.

"Hahh.. Adarr... I beg you please finish inside of me." You knew the risks but nome of it mattered anymore. The thought of starting a family with him drove you right over the edge, squeezing your walls in release with a loud whine.

"Please.. Let me bear your children.."

Your pleas were all Adar needed to pull him along with you as your walls tightened around his cock, spilling deep within your womb and slumping back against the furs, allowing you to rest atop of him to calmly catch your breaths.

"You love me, Adar?" You nuzzled his chest in comfort.

"And you wish to carry my offspring." His hand softly carressed your back and you felt his gaze on you.

"Many young Uruk already call me mother. And now I know you truly care for me."

If you were told on your first day at the campsite you would one day share a bed with the father of the Uruks you would have resisted, tried to flee the area. But yet here you were.

You spent your day with him under a thick wool blanket, taking a bath and sharing dinner. All while discussing the future, starting with your belongings being moved into Adar's home and announcing your new title as true mother of the Uruks.

But those were worries for tomorrow.

Today was just for the two of you, the ancient Uruk and his mortal wife.

[howtofightwrite]

Since adrenaline makes it easier to ignore pain, I’m wondering how severe an injury can be before adrenaline isn’t enough to allow a person to keep fighting

Fatal.

The scary thing about adrenaline is that you can suffer a mortal wound and not realize it until you drop dead. If you've ever seen the, “humans are space orcs,” meme, adrenaline is a big part of that. If you don't finish someone off, they are still a potential threat until they are clinically dead.

While it may seem slightly comical, the image of someone literally checking themselves for holes after being shot at is a real practice with genuine purpose. If they had an adrenaline rush, they might not be able to tell that they've been hit, and will need to physically examine themselves to ensure they're not bleeding to death without realizing it. (And, yes, that can absolutely happen.)

As a general rule, anything that will immediately kill someone, such as decapitation or catastrophic head trauma, will stop someone through an adrenaline rush. Destruction of the skeletal structure, (which is to say, destroying joints), might not completely stop them, but it's an injury they won't be able to power through (even if they aren't immediately aware of it.)

It's a little worse than I'm making it sound, too, because you can suffer non-fatal injuries during an adrenaline rush, and then aggravate the wound to the point that it becomes life threatening (or life-altering.) An adrenaline rush can, potentially, persist for over an hour.

In most cases, the adrenaline rush will drop off within a few minutes of the threat passing, though the state of threat is assessed by your brain, so your psychological state heavily affects that. Meaning, if you feel threatened, even if the actual danger has passed, the rush could continue (though it will usually drop off after, roughly, an hour.)

The “good” news is that an adrenaline rush will not prevent you from bleeding to death. So, if someone has been shot multiple times and is bleeding out, they'll still lose consciousness. You just need to make sure that they're actually incapacitated. Not that it matters, but as a minor up-side, adrenaline is delivered via the circulatory system, meaning if you start seriously bleeding, that's your adrenaline rush going with it, so the rush is likely to drop off prematurely in the event of fatal blood loss.

I'm not completely sure what the subjective experience is there. Catastrophic blood loss during an adrenaline rush is not something I have personal experience with, and my experiences with bleeding while dealing with an adrenaline rush is more just that bleeding is an extremely annoying inconvenience, when you don't need to consider what's happening. (To be clear, that's not just a glib dismissal, being aware of bleed was actually annoying. It might sound hilarious to be pissed off at your own blood leaking down the side of your face, but that was my experience. Also, for the record, I did not feel the gash that I was bleeding from, and angrily rubbed it a few times before realizing I'd been injured.)

The short answer to your question, “how much severely do you need to injure someone through an adrenaline rush?” You need to kill them.

That said, killing them is absolutely not your only option. Less than lethal devices, such as tasers or chemical sprays, can absolutely incapacitate someone under an adrenaline rush, without severely harming them. Similarly, restraints, and other submission techniques can be used to hold them down. In the case of restraints and submission holds, there is a danger of the individual injuring themselves, while they try to work their way out of the hold, but that risk is still vastly preferable to killing them on the spot.

Adrenaline is a very potent survival tool, in your physiology, and if you try to simply overpower that tool through direct force, it will lead to catastrophic consequences. However, alternative methods (in particular, shorting out someone's nervous system with a direct electrical charge, or simply interfering with the mechanical structure of their joints, can be just as effective at stopping them with far less dire consequences.

-Starke

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[hana-no-seiiki]

ok Aeon of light Reader has piqued my interests, especially their relation with Nanook. Please make more about them please :D??? It's alright though if you don't want too

END OF A DREAM, BEGINNING OF AN ERA.

notes: OH GOD i forgot to edit the title of the second story. They’re supposed to be the Aeon of the Dream Path + Imaginary element. My bad! I also changed up the timeline there making reader way way more older since I found out Xianzhou residents live for long ass times.

Anyways, thank you! I honestly expected that fic to flop so I’m pleasantly surprised. I spent a long time researching gods to come up with a concept for reader’s path. Very long. Like long enough that I have this obscure fun fact about there being a god called Mama Killa. It partly was because the other Aeon’s concepts / powers are pretty vast (i.e. IX (Nihility) is the god of meaninglessness but can be considered the aeon of insanity and despair as well due to its powers)

[ here is the link to the fic we’re talking about / previous fic ]

YANDERE! NANOOK x READER (AEON OF DREAMS)

warnings: pseudo-incest/godcest, nanook is “born” from your inner hatred towards the universe before he ascended making them technically your child tho this fic can be interpreted as platonic, edgelord aeons, canon divergence. UNEDITED AND RUSHED AF.

I. Ad Somnum Pueri

Hatred always had and will have a root to its madness. Your endless entrapment since your conception ‘birthed’ Nanook. A loathing for existence. A passion for ending every one and every thing. In their path, their destiny, there will be no living beings, there will be no space or time. Only the void, you and the avatar of entropy.

But first they had to take down Yaoshi. After all, even Aeons had to face mortality and if that useless Lan wasn’t capable of keeping you safe in your cradle then it was clear Nanook had to put a hand down.

The Lord of Destruction prided themself for regarding everything — but you — as equal. Everything had to be erased, so there was no point to having favourites or a specific distaste towards another being.

However Yaoshi had broken the camel’s back at your kidnapping. Thus, Nanook decided against their ‘morals’ to give them a special opportunity.

To be the first Aeon whose reverent ichor is in their hands.

II. In Somno In Infinitum

Even after your ascended body was taken and locked away by Yaoshi. You could never argue with the fact that Nanook’s obsession with you remained the most powerful across the universe. You were an Aeon they worshipped vehemently as a young mortal up until now. It was as if they breathed only for you. It came to the point that they even owed their creation to you or not their biological parents.

You were incredibly flattered by such a fact in the beginning. Doting and showering them with blessings, assisting them in the goals in both the waking and slumbering world.

Sleepwalkers was what your scholars called the vessels you used to do your godly work. And Nanook was known throughout the realms to be your favorite.

But when they made a declaration to be a menace to the world, you withdrew all of your support and contact with Nanook. Utterly disappointed with what they have become.

That did not halt their fame and name as your chosen hero from spreading. Their sheer charisma overpowered your network.

Because if there was one thing that was stronger than dreams it was reality.

Indeed you pleaded with your followers never to follow the Lord of Entropy through their sleeping fantasies, but how could they deny Nanook’s efficiency? Their all-out, unbridled, unfettered adoration of you?

And thus, the Dreamcrawler Legion. Now also known by its other name, the Antimatter Legion, was established. With one goal and one goal alone.

Lay the world in a bed of flames and ruin. For when they everyone else goes to eternal sleep, you — their ever generous, loving Aeon — will be free.

III. Mundus Erit Terminus

You never visited Nanook after their ascension. You only ever loved their mortal self. Their path was something you could never hope or desire to follow. Sure, there was a phase of your life where you despised your eternal sleep. But what you learnt from living so long was that acceptance of your situation felt infinitely better than spending eternity filled with loathing.

But Nanook always visited you. While Yaoshi burdened themselves with the task of witnessing your body while asleep. Nanook enjoyed it much more when you talked, your words of guidance — though now reduced to silence — was what made them fall in love with the you who spoke, who moved, who looked at them with open eyes through dreams.

It didn’t matter if you moved your target of hatred to them. Nanook’s love was unconditional and blind as his desire to seek destruction.

“My lord.” Nanook forced you into an embrace. Within their dreams, even when it was your domain, you felt as powerless as you did with Yaoshi. Their golden ichor bled unto your clothes.

They could see you. Your face, your entrancing features, just as he always had, just as he always wanted to. But it lacked a certain glow, a loss they attributed to Yaoshi digressions. Because they knew for certain that your love for them never disappeared. You were too benevolent, too magnanimous. “[Y/N]. My promise is soon to be fulfilled.”

“Every cage you have been trapped in will be gone.” Every cage but his love. Every chain but his arms.

“And you can finally feel the beauty of reality once more.”

A reality that was completely reset and build back up by them.

Translations:

Ad Somnum Pueri - Go to Sleep Child

In Somno In Infinitum - In Endless Dreams / Sleep

Mundus Erit Terminus - The World (shall) End.

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Hiya! So I saw your request box is open again. In that case, I Hope you don't mind me requesting something.

You know how in pretty much all the Archon Fics it's said that Reader is much weaker than the Archon obsessed with them? Well what if that wasn't the case, and by some miracle reader is actually more powerfull than the Archons?

Sorry if it didn't make much sense, you have the right to ignore this Ask if you don't want to write for it.

- 🐶 anon

i love this idea so much! i can't really see a case where they would be stronger than the Archons unless it was a situation much like travelor but i didn't wanna copy that so i hope you enjoy! :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, obsessive behaviors, mentions of violence against reader, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Venti doesn’t care how much stronger you think you are then him, he’s got the real power here. He’s fought in wars, raised hell like no other before him. He may not have been the first Anemo Archon, but there’s a reason he’s the one everyone talks about versus Decarabian, the original Anemo Archon. He’ll use any dirty trick or tactic to get you back under his control, disorienting you with wings so strong you can’t breathe, intense dreams that have you waking up in a cold sweat, even resorting to gaslighting you so intensely you could never imagine standing up to him.

“Oh dear, don’t you see it? You aren’t that strong. You’d have been worshiped like the beloved Archons if you were anyone with true power.” Venti smiles at you sweetly, a faint bitterness to his tone as he tries to calm you down. You had gone a little stir crazy after being locked in the apartment with him for so long, and he couldn’t blame you for it. But now he needed you to calm down, while he could use all the dirty tricks in the books to slow you down, he knew that if you caught on to his schemes and realized that you really did hold the power, him and everything he’d worked so hard for in this relationship would be over.

Yandere!Zhongli would be indifferent to your strength. Be as strong as you want, you’ll never be strong enough to break his shield. He’ll simply stand there, shield standing as strong and firm as it has been as you slowly tire yourself out, beating yourself black and blue against his impenetrable wall. He doesn’t need to fight you, you fight yourself enough every day trying to get away from him, but he’ll never let you leave.

“You really ought to stop this my sweet, you’re only making yourself look pathetic.” Zhongli’s soft, monotone voice reaches your ears as you slump to your knees in exhaustion. Your hands were bloody from all the fighting you had done, the vital fluid making a gently dripping noise as it hit the ground every so often. When Zhongli was certain you weren’t going to continue, your determination having worn down with your mortal flesh, he’ll disperse his shield, beginning on your medical care. “There we go my sweet, just relax, and remember. Humans bruise a lot easier than real gods.”

Yandere!Raiden has far too much battle experience under her belt to be so easily overpowered. Regardless of how much power you wield, it isn’t always about the strength but rather how you use it. She’ll continue to beat you in every battle, breaking down your pride and hope little by little as she knocks you off your feet, slashes against your skin, sends you flying across rooms, whatever it takes to show you who is superior here.

“You should give up already, you will never beat me. When you can slay beasts the size of islands perhaps then we can consider a real battle. You claim to hold so much power but what good is it if you cannot even utilize it?” Raiden’s voice has that same, eerie calmness to it as it always does. The way she carries herself as she walks slowly across the Plane of Euthymia, the chosen battlefield, holds that same, strange calmness to it. It’s almost as if she doesn’t find any threat in your attacks, not only dodging and deflecting them with ease, but also counter-attacking with the kind of expertise only someone centuries old could have. She didn’t secure her land in the Archon War by just swinging her sword about wildly, no, she fought like a proper expert should.

Yandere!Furina would be distraught internally. She may be the Hydro Archon but she has never fought in any grand wars or had any grand display of power to boast about. Her predecessor, Egeria, was the grandiose one, she was merely the replacement. She isn’t entirely sure how to keep you from leaving, oftentimes having to resort to getting help from Neuvillette to keep you contained.

“Neuvillette!” A shrill scream echoed through said dragon’s office, the doors slamming open as Furian waltzed in. “They got out again, I need your help.” A common occurrence as of late, with Furina being unwilling to fight her beloved head-on, she often resorted to pestering the long-haired male for help. Of course, once she got you home and secured again she’d flip her lid on you, but for now, her main focus was getting you there. The strategy as of late, one you hadn’t seemed to recognize yet, was that she would distract you with some petty argument, one that is often what resulted in you leaving in the first place, while Neuvillette sneaks up and knocks you out from behind. While this works for now, she knows she’ll eventually have to change it up, you are unfortunately smart.

[faejilly]

i find it kinda silly that warlocks have marks but nephilim don’t, considering the fact that angle blood is potent as fuck

Thus the eternal popularity of wing!fic/wing!art, yes? 💘

On the one hand, this could just be because angels and demons are opposing forces, one cancelling out the other, diametrically opposed on a metaphysical/magical level, so their powers manifest in different ways in their children.

(They're mostly all rather absurdly beautiful after all. Maybe that's their angel mark? *snickers*)

On the other hand, in a slightly more jilly likes making up magic lore point... maybe nephilim aren't half-angel in at all the same way warlocks are half-demon?

And this got long and rambly, so:

It is canon that the children of nephilim are always nephilim... which isn't how inheritance works, generally speaking.

If nephilim were half-angel/half-human in a biological sense, then shadowhunters would presumably be sterile, a combination of two barely compatible bloodlines just like warlocks.

But they can have children. Perhaps that's just something about angelic bloodlines, a power aimed more at life than the demonic bloodlines that seem more like death? (If that was it though, one wonders why would demons be able to have half-human children at all?)

If it was somehow just inheritance, even hand-wavey magical inheritance, nephilim should, one would think, be getting less and less angelic over time, no matter how carefully the Clave tries to manage their family lines.

(And losing the Mortal Cup really would be a death knell for the world, because the nephilim would in fact die out no matter how many children they tried to have, and then the demons would win. It might take awhile, depending on how frequent one thinks incursions are, and how many nephilim there were before the uprising, but still. There is no balance, just inevitable defeat.)

But modern shadowhunters are still capable of killing demons, can still use adamas and runes, can still (however reprehensible this is) overpower and subjugate the down world.

They continue to have angelic power no matter how removed they are from their founders.

They also continue to have angelic powers even when infected/attack by demonic ones. You literally can't take the angel out of a nephilim.

Otherwise Jonathan Morgenstern wouldn't have been able to bear runes, Tessa wouldn't have been able to have children in the books, Luke wouldn't have been a shadowhunter again after his lycanthropy was cured in the TV show. (Deruned shadowhunters wouldn't explicitly be so tempting to demons once they lose their protections.) Which does at first sound like they're still half-angel under the demonic corruption...

BUT!

Fallen angels also still have angelic power, despite being 100% demon.

Magnus' ability to interact with adamas/shadowhunter tools makes that explicit: he's partially angelic even as a half-demon/half-human warlock.

Which is too many halves if nephilim abilities came from being half-angel!

Perhaps, angelic power literally can't be broken down, regardless of anything else happening around it or containing it... instead, angelic grace is simply eternal. Immutable, irresistible, unavoidable... once seen it is never ever forgotten.

Thus purging the angelic core works against Lilith without also making the Institute defenseless, the so-called Herondale birthmark never fades. (Does this mean Clary and her bloodline will also be marked somehow, in a way we have yet to see defined in canon, Ithuriel's grace made manifest on them forever?)

If we follow that logic through the aforementioned Tessa/Jonathan/Luke (perhaps even Max Trueblood and any other deruned shadowhunters who go on to live mundane lives) maybe nephilim are actually still just human. They have children, they live, they grow old, they die.

Perhaps nephilim are forever touched by angelic grace, but never actually part of it?

(Is this in fact part of what makes angels different than demons? They will not corrupt or twist humanity into something other, but they will grant a gift. One that is inhuman, amoral, one that burns cold and eternal and is necessary, perhaps, but not kind. Is this their true problem with Clary's use of runes in the TV show, that she is twisting humanity into something else, that she is corrupting them by combining angelic and demonic and human in a way that is anathema and dangerous to angelic grace? Angels do not interfere with humanity, except to try and prevent demons from interfering with humanity. Thus never stopping Valentine, or interfering with the Clave no matter how ruthless they became. Their sins were still human sins, not demonic ones.)

Maybe nephilim are not inherently immune to demonic influence, to possession or bearing demonic children. The gift of grace allows them to access angelic power, lets them use it to actively protect themselves, much like they're trained to fight and use runes and forge adamas etc. but they are still just human.

This makes Valentine's ability to 'create' a demon that can sneak into the Institute and possess shadowhunters (can kill Jocelyn and poison Izzy) much more palatable. He's not creating something that can bypass nephilim nature. He just found a way past the tools they use to protect themselves.

SO!

Back to my meta on your actual original comment.

Perhaps nephilim do not have marks in the way that warlocks do because they're not half angel.

They're infected like werewolves or vampires, just with a more difficult transmission, only possible through children rather than blood or violence. (And isn't that actually the first thing that does make sense as an angelic trait? Family and bonds and love and life, not death, as the only way to succeed, as the only way to continue.)

They have symptoms of angelic grace, a magical counter to demonic corruption: fortitude and beauty and the ability to use angelic tools. They're the opposing force to vampire speed and seduction and fangs, to werewolf strength and pack and transformation.

This is why they can't do magic like warlocks and seelies, even if they are supernatural. This is why they're still mortal. They're still just human however hard they try to pretend otherwise.

At some level, this is probably part of why the Clave despises werewolves and vampires even more than fae and warlocks. They're all too similar, too clearly an illustration of there but for the grace of angels...

Literally.

[dragon-creates]

A Good Luck Charm (for funnybunny writing week)

Read on AO3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“One that makes you happy,” Jax stated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jax,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

But still, she was nice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even her laugh felt like a chant to him.

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

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

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

The brunette grinned back, focusing on the register again.

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

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

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

Ragatha crossed her arms, motioning for him to continue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

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

Knock, knock

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

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

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

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

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

Pomni nodded slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jax heart plummeted, no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your realm?” Pomni tilted her head.

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

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

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

He froze.

He said it.

Pomni’s tearful eyes widened, her breath hitching.

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

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

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

“But what if Caine-”

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

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

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

He was going to set her free.

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

[romance-rambles]

qixi clarence | one residence household

Having grown tired of being neighbors, you ask Clarence to move in with you.

1.8k, post-canon, domestic fluff + slight humor, reader is mc, series: none

THERE COMES A TIME IN every couple's relationship when they must consider the benefits of moving in together—and marriage, though one generally implies the other.

To you, it becomes evident rather quickly that your current way of life is no longer enough to satisfy you. Your days are often some variation on seeing the man you love, either requiring you to wait or to traverse the water with his blessing. And that, for a time, was enough.

But the first thing you see when you wake up is always the empty space next to you, where you wish there would be a man instead.

And when you sit down for breakfast, as a human might, there is always enough food for two. Clarence comes in from the front door, still a guest in a home that may as well be half his. Though he has a key of his own, you have to let him in. Exactly three knocks, evenly spaced, or he'll worry and let himself in.

When it's the other way around, you stroll into his home like you own it.

On days he doesn't come, for whatever reason—you didn't realize it was possible for water dragons to get sick, for one—your longing is enough to conjure an apparition to sit in his place. You've been told it's pathetic, and though it comes from that nuisance of a fox, you can't really deny it.

However, in a bolt of brilliance, you managed to blurt out a particularly witty response the last time you were told so:

Only if I don't do anything about it!

So, here you are, a week after that conversation, with a hint of scarlet on your lips and cheeks—and a table full of Clarence's favorite foods.

You've developed a hobby of writing such things down, though never on paper at first. Not until you find yourself in the quiet of your room, amongst the abandoned love letters you hope he'll never read. The memories attached to them make it too difficult for you to burn them in some remote place, far enough from your home that Clarence does not take notice of the smoke.

And as for the extra fanfare—

You've never heard of a man who doesn't go weak for his lover in red. Or so the books you've managed to get your hand on in the mortal world say. Just a little bit of insurance, not quite a full seduction tactic.

If he says no, you have no choice but to accept that answer.

For now.

But there's nothing that says you can't tip the playing field in your favor before that.

As per your expectations, Clarence reveals his presence by knocking on the door. You open the door immediately. Much like a pet waiting loyally for the return of its owner, you make sure to sit by the door these days, a bowl of noodles in hand.

Because one of the earliest moments in your romance that this house witnessed was you tripping over yourself to open the door—and subsequently getting sauce all over your outfit. Your lover has not let it go. You don't imagine he'll ever let it go.

Your children will know, and their children will know, and you can hardly get mad at a face so beautiful. Being teased by him like this is a much better future than not having him at all.

"Is something on my face?" you ask, the very picture of innocence.

He blinks. Rather stupidly, if you have to add anything else. You take this as assurance of your victory—perhaps tomorrow, at this time, you might be late for breakfast, the novelty of sharing your bed with someone else overpowering your eternally empty stomach.

"…you look lovely," Clarence says eventually.

The tips of his horns redden. You stifle a giggle and allow him in.

BREAKFAST STARTS AS IT NORMALLY does, if the pigment on your lips and cheeks is to be ignored. And Clarence does an awful job at it, so much so that the snarky voice in his head can't stop pointing it out.

It sounds surprisingly like that fox friend of yours.

His name is Stellan, and for all that bluster, he seems to care for you deeply. If Clarence ever says anything on the matter, he knows you'd agree. When it comes to the reverse proposition—that you, as well, seem to care for him—he thinks you might deny it to your dying breath.

Part of it, the dragon suspects, might be that you don't want him getting any wrong ideas. The other part might just be stubbornness.

"Is there something you want to say?" asks Clarence, the moment he finishes eating the food you prepared.

He tends to be a fan of taking it slow, carefully chewing everything as much as he can. You inhale your food—it's there one minute, and gone the next. This tends to leave you with much time to stare at him, often with a dreamy expression.

Clarence is not yet privy to those thoughts, but he thinks he can make a few educated guesses.

This time, there's an intensity to your gaze that often appears when you have something to ask of him. Whether it's his thoughts on the food, or if he's interested in going out on a date in the nearby town, he's learned how to speed up the process.

A little nudge, with all the subtlety of a rock.

Resting your chin atop your intertwined hands, you tilt your head cutely. Batting your eyelashes is unnecessary, but it does serve affirm that Stellan's words are correct. He chose to use the word desperate; Clarence, however, prefers the word determined.

"Don't you think getting up every morning to come here is a bit exhausting?" You lean in close. "I was just thinking, isn't that a waste?"

A faint smile tugs at his lips. "How can that be? Especially when I get to see you every morning."

Your lovely eyes shine with affection. In the time he's spent with you, Clarence has come to realize that you're surprisingly easy to read. As they say, the eyes are the window to the soul—and you've never bothered to grab a curtain for those windows.

"But what if you could get to breakfast faster?" you propose, with all the energy of a merchant desperately trying to sell her wares. "What if there was a way to cut that time down to nothing? And—and! You could be spending that time doing more important things."

He pretends to think it over. "It would be nice to spend more time with you."

"Right?" Your hands curl into fists, your excitement leaving them vibrating in the air. "What if you moved in with me? Wouldn't that be—"

"Alright," Clarence agrees.

You blink at him. Multiple times. He waits patiently for you to process his words, passing the time by collecting the dishes and putting them away. When you start sputtering, he takes that to mean you're half way there.

"Just like that?" you finally manage to ask.

"Is that not what you want?" Tilting his head, Clarence pretends to be confused. "If you're not comfortab—"

"No!" You shoot up from your spot by the table immediately. Your stretched hand hangs frozen in the air, hoping to grab something on the other side of the room. "I mean, why don't we do it two…three days from now."

Awkwardness gives way to an endearing sort of confidence. Nodding your head, you cross your arms, as naturally as you can. As if you meant to do so all along. Stifling a laugh, he turns his back to you, distracting himself with the view outside your kitchen window.

"That sounds like a reasonable amount," he agrees.

Truthfully, he could move in today. It wouldn't be particularly difficult. But he elects to leave that for a later time, letting you enjoy your victory in peace.

"Great! I'll go prepare…" You pause. "Stuff. I'll go do that."

Five minutes later, he hears the sound of someone hitting the wall in her unending excitement.

STELLAN DOES NOT FANCY HIMSELF a meddler or a matchmaker, usually. He's content to watch idiots unwittingly walk to their doom—or, even better, their misery. Neither a conscience, nor any of moral qualification tend to have any say in what kind of entertainment he consumes.

Then, enter the idiot in front of him now.

You sit across from him, unaffected by the half-empty bowl of spicy noodles sitting in front of you. Its scent is enough to make him gag, but he's never been a quitter. He shoves a dumpling into his mouth and waits for you to drop your elegant façade.

That's not a word he ever expected to apply to an idiot like you, but bigger miracles have happened in the past couple of months. Namely, that you managed to rope a dragon on the verge of achieving the ultimate power into staying by your side in the mortal realm.

"Well, then," you start, clasping your hands together. "I guess it's time to talk business."

In attempting to fight back a sneer, he grimaces. "Well, out with it, Rat. I don't have all day."

You raise an eyebrow at him. Whatever retort you have for him, however, dies in your throat, as you go through the inane process of opening and shutting your mouth. Eventually, you decide that you have better things to do.

"Well, if you must know," you say proudly, "I'm getting married."

"Great," he answers blandly. "What does that have to do with me?"

Technically, it's plausible that he played a part in getting you to this point. He did, against his better judgement, seek out that dragon of yours and warn him of your plotting. It is something he hopes never to do again—one idiot is enough for him, especially when she's stupid enough to spend her years waiting for another idiot.

He was not worried about you.

The truth is, it's not satisfying to throw snark at you when you're half a person, wandering around the festivities like the dead. Coughing into his hand, he chases away those thoughts. Your smile widens, for some reason.

"What do you mean?" you inquire innocently. "I wouldn't have gotten this far without you!"

His grimace deepens. Oh boy, here it comes. You'll get the wrong idea and then you'll look at him with that annoyingly earnest look in your eyes and—

"I had to prove you wrong." Your grin grows smug. The words are enough to stop Stellan from cursing your dragon out. "You can't call me desperate anymore."

A snort escapes him.

"Yeah, yeah." The fox waves you off. "You're not desperate—you're unhinged. Make sure the food's good at the wedding."

He takes great glee in the way your lips twist into a scowl. All is right in the world.

— happy birthday, elisa! it's almost the end of your birthday, but i hope you enjoyed it!

[thewisaaaaad]

@squish--squash I hope you know that you did this to me. I took a break from my narilamb oneshot for this.

Anyway here's more "Heket has a crisis" yw

After discovering the truth about Forneus's children, Heket is left with a problem. She can't really have a Narinder worshiper just wandering around her domain, but she also really doesn't want to force her love into a cage. She's already forced enough people close to her into cages. So, they just make an agreement: Forneus doesn't tell random people about her god, and Heket allows her to wander her domain. Every day, Heket fears that Forneus will forget, and that will be the end of her. Heket will not be able to protect her from War itself, after all.

So, after discovering that Shamura had gone off the deep end, Heket naturally assumes that the madness must have been caused by the damage that Narinder had done to their head. That's great, but now what?

Well, Heket of course makes the most rational decision: to sweep it under the rug! She takes over as the leader of the bishops, mainly to take the pressure off of Shamuras failing mind. This works great, even if the eldest sibling sometimes makes strange demands of them ("I thought we were meant to protect our people, not lord over them" "We need the sacrafices for more power. He cannot be allowed to overpower us." "...alright, I guess.") She is still able to keep the fractured family together. Secretly, Heket fears Narinders return, because of the damage he has already caused when they had the upper hand. Its irrational, she knows, because he's sealed away forever, but a part of her hopes he breaks free if only so that Forneus's kits can be returned to her. (little does she know that all narinder wants in this au is to have their family back.)

Then Shamura drops the bombshell of a prophesy about the sheep, and orders their siblings to begin the culling. Heket immidiately sees the problem with this (as do the other two gods). Killing all the sheep not only sends them directly to their brother, but would also give those sheep ample motivation to work with narinder to wipe out the old faith. So, behind Shamuras back, the three siblings make a plan to hide the sheep within Darkwood, given that the forest is a maze that only those with the bishop of chaos's blessing can traverse. (you can read all about that meeting HERE, you will need an ao3 account because I am afraid of AI scalpers.) So, problem solved, everything is great, right?

Shamura thinks so too! In fact, they managed to contain the red crown!

At that point Heket begins to panic, wondering what the hell Shamura meant by that, considering that the spider never extrapolated on how they were containing their brothers crown. She had never told them about how they were containing the sheep, so how did they find out? What do they mean, "contained the red crown"? Do they know about Forneus? Is her family safe?

And some years later, Heket realizes that she has someone who could answer that question: Forneus! She is a devout follower of The One Who Waits, so maybe she could tell Heket if the red crown is actually on this plane or not. And as it turns out, she can! It is in fact on the mortal plane, and it has found its destined bearer!

So Heket panics even more, and organises a meeting with her siblings individually so as to not raise alarm but still get the message out. However, when she goes to meet with Kalamar, she finds that he is ACTIVELY OPERATING ON THE BEARER OF THE RED CROWN. anyway that stuffs gonna be in the next chapter of my fanfic when I get around to it.

bye :)

ps this was thrown together so like im sorry that its not quite up to my standards I'm struggling man

[5eraphim]

omg i have a request... like a scenario type with vampire mercs (norm or yandere i dont mind either) and a vampire hunter s/o? I am THINKING very normally about this hehe

Ahhh, love this! I'm so weak for all things vampiric and gothic, but in general I keep my requests 4 characters max. Sorry if this is so few, but I'd prefer to really go in depth with a few than to shallow-ly touch on all the mercs, (with very rare exception) but you're free to asks for others when requests open back up,. I hope you're ok with the characters I chose to feature here! :) (Also note, I refer to demo and Engie as living with demons who, for the sake of the story are meant to stand in for Medic's medical equipment/weapons and Engie's machines respectively.)

Characters: Demo 🐏, Engie 🦫, Heavy 🐻 and Medic 🕊️ (Team Fortress 2)

Rating: M (MINORS DNI)

Word Count: 2.6k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

(Song Inspo- See the Light, Ghost)

Medic

One of the elders of the vampires Medic's all too familiar with your type. He's been targeted by countless hunters over the years and managed to survive every encounter. He was never shy about killing and feeding and made many enemies with humans over the centuries. No one's managed to kill him yet though he had to admit you came closer than any he had remembered before. But Medic felt far more shaken than usual, discovering the demons you slaughtered to get to him.

He'd always been so fascinated by mortals and loved pursuing them at night, to watch the precious fear which tempted him onward before overpowering his victims with his enhanced strength. As a powerful, supernaturally charged vampire, he hardly considered mortals much of a threat, just a bit of a challenge keeping him from his next meal. When he was transformed into a vampire, he was blessed with a mystical charm, the ability to hypnotize humans who let their guard down around him and compel them to do as he pleased. Many vampires possessed the power of "suggestion," but Medic brought this to a new level. Typically he'd use this charm to instigate things to get mortals alone in a vulnerable, more suggestive state of mind before going in for the kill. Luring and stalking his victims just long enough to know what they feared and desired most, using that to his advantage.

Unlike so many misanthropic vampires, Medic was quite captivated by humans; he was turned into a vampire ages ago and, under the conditions of how he was turned, forgot all about what his life was before he became a vampire.

He regrets the lack of memories of his time among the living but tries his best to make up for it by learning all about humans in their lives now and is quite fickle in this regard. Finding a new obsession every time he dwells among the living to feed. His obsessions come and go as soon as he has his fill. It wasn't until he met you that he genuinely felt like he had met his match.

Not physically, of course; his sparring matches with you were more to stave off his boredom and for amusement than to actually try and kill you, but still, you had his attention all the same.

Sure, if he really wanted to best you, he could compel you to obey his sinister will and eliminate you in a matter of minutes, but where was the fun in that? You were prey unlike any he knew before, and he wanted to give you a violent and gruesome end worthy of the time the two of you shared together.

What Medic wants more than you under his total control is for you to come to him of your own volition. He wouldn't dare try to corrupt a mind so sharp and captivating as yours. While he dreams of being the one to deal your killing blow, he can't help but imagine how charming it would be for you to join his side. To become one with him, living in the night as his mate. Until then, this little ongoing battle would have to do.

Medic deluded himself into believing all your fighting and animosity was your unique way of trying to get his attention. Like you were only acting out because you were jealous of the others he spent his time with and fed upon.

You were so precious to him, and truly loved him deep down. You merely had an unconventional way of showing it. Medic would be the type to see you getting ganged up on by other monsters before jumping into action to save you, tearing the vile creatures to pieces, covering the two of you with the gore, only to stroke your hair and comfort you afterward. To ensure that you are all right and don't sustain any damage. He'd hold you tenderly in his arms as though cradling a baby bird while he whispered,

"The only one who gets to kill you is me. Is that understood?"

Heavy

Heavy has been out on his own for so long now, living in his eternal purgatory in isolation. He doesn't remember much of the past. It hurts too much to try and remember what he once had. But he knew he gave his life to protect his family from a vampire ages ago. Though in a cruel twist of fate, he managed to survive the attack only to wake up cold, alone, and ravenously hungry.

Unlike some vampires, Heavy had to slaughter a living creature every night to sustain this unbearable hunger. It wasn't exactly that he felt guilty for killing more that this was all a part of the balance of nature. It wasn't his fault he was so large, so capable of killing. The fact of the matter was that Heavy needed an awful lot of blood to survive, and it was the job of smaller prey creatures to provide for him.

So long as he mostly kept to himself, Heavy wouldn't worry about anyone bothering him, and he wouldn't bother anyone else. Animal blood kept him alive well enough, even if he gave into temptation, slaughtering masses of human livestock in a bout of gluttony, so long as he didn't drink from the living, everything was fine.

The fact that you managed to hunt him down and tried to target him in the first place was quite curious. He couldn't understand why one so small would bother trying to pick a fight with him of all vampires.

Heavy forgot how long he'd gone without interacting with another intelligent lifeform, and you caught him completely by surprise the first time you ran into him. It hurt all over again, remembering how long he'd been alone. How long it'd been since he'd seen the last of the family he knew as a living mortal, he tried so hard to forget for centuries, but you wouldn't let him.

When he was a younger vampire, he was so cruel and bitter, taking his frustrations out on his food, tearing whatever poor creature was his dinner that night to shreds leaving trails of carnage behind, but now he was more efficient. Though it still required a great deal of blood to sustain a creature of his size, he wasn't so careless anymore. Encountering you was a break from the regular routine it had been sometimes since he met prey that managed to put up such a fight.

While he wasn't blessed with otherworldly charms or powers of hypnosis, his already powerful physical abilities were somehow the only things amplified by vampirism, and trying to take you in a fight felt cruel. But if this was a fight you wanted to pick, he supposed he had no choice but to satisfy you.

At first, he was mainly apathetic to your existence. You were stubborn and hard to kill, but you were still just a tiny human fighting a supernatural entity, and it was only a matter of time before that caught up with you. During a particularly heated battle, you finally slipped up, realizing too late you were out of silver arrows and defenseless when you felt his hands drawing around your neck. But when he finally got close for the first time in his life, Heavy decided to spare his prey. And just a moment away from dealing the killing blow, he hesitated, halting for long enough for you to escape.

Later that day, he lay restlessly wondering where this change of heart came from and couldn't stop himself from dreaming about what it would be like to take you under his wing. Thinking about sharing a more domestic, peaceful life with you. In his eyes, you were the last remaining tether he had to the human world, and killing you would sever that bond for who knows how long.

He dreamed of harnessing your fiery human spirit, training you to work at his side, and showing you how to hunt from the shadows, creeping silently and evading human attention.

From then on, he'd be anticipating your arrival. Wondering if it was wiser to jump right into the action and turn you into a vampire the first chance he could or to wait for the hunter to come to him. The time spent awaiting your return was agony, painfully aware of his loneliness while you were no doubt back home, licking your wounds, hopefully regaining your strength enough to rechallenge him. He desperately missed the feeling of your warm skin against his cold body, your precious blood pumping away, practically begging for him to take a bite.

Demo

He was a vampire with a fearsome reputation known for his explosive anger and the bloodshed he brought with him. However, the supernatural powers he was blessed with were almost more akin to a werewolf's than a vampire's. Demo was blessed with the gift of rage, the ability to manifest every ounce of his anger and lay ways to whatever poor soul was stupid enough to invoke it.

But it wasn't just rage which captivated Demo, but hedonism in all forms. Unlike many vampires, Demo liked to keep around a few humans to amuse himself with. Not precisely to a consensual agreement, but a mutually beneficial one. He would keep his captives fed and safe, and they would provide him sustenance in return, and it wasn't long until the hostage began to grow comfortable and compliant. Demo found blood tasted much better when laced with pleasure, far better than fear, and he loved to wait until the last moment, when his captives were comfortable, before draining them of their delicious blood.

Even when Demo feeds from his harem before going in for the kill, the man is well-practiced and knows how to make the feeding sessions as pleasurable for the victim as it is for him.

All this was quite familiar for Demo, humans were easy prey at the end of the day, and even the holiest and most righteous would eventually succumb to the flesh's temptations. The process was familiar, but the pleasure was sweet all the same. When he did have to fight back, it only made the inevitable meal all the more precious. He loved when people played hard to get, and there wasn't a human alive who managed to escape him and his temptations.

You were so adorably feisty and stubborn the first time he crossed you. A cute little mortal who wanted to play Van Helsing, using your little toys of pure silver, holy water, and scriptures to keep him back.

Though Demo was amused, he was impressed at how well you managed to keep him away. After all, holy relics and verses only worked against the supernatural if you really believed and put all your faith into your words calling upon your deity to protect you. You were a fighter, that's for sure, and the way you were so confident God would protect you from demons like him. It was almost enough for him to spare you, but how could he deny himself a feast such as yourself?

Not only were you pious, but you could also physically fight him back, a rare combination greater than any he'd encountered. Most who tried to protect themselves with holy relics would begin to doubt when he really let out his rage, but somehow, you didn't falter. Not even for a moment. It would be an honor to be the vampire who finally managed to conquer your pure heart and turn you into one of his own. The only issue is how hard it would be to catch you.

While your faith appeared, unshakable Demo would still plant seeds of doubt in your mind whenever he could. Promising you pleasures beyond your wildest dreams, endless time to spend pursuing knowledge of whatever you wanted, powerful supernatural abilities you could conjure at will, and trying to use a bit of materialism to sweeten the deal. Promises, more specifically, to convince you to align with him. Demo telling you about how he would spoil you with riches, the most beautiful clothes, the finest of jewels, anything your heart desired would be yours. All you had to do was submit. It was meant to be, so why resist?

Engie

Out of all the vampires, he was the least happy to be sought out by a hunter.

He didn't want to end up like this. He didn't want to kill to survive, and being hunted down by you was just another cruel reminder of how far he'd strayed from humanity and how no matter how hard he wanted it, there was no place left for him among the living.

Furthermore, unlike Medic, who was apathetic to the slaughter of his demons, he felt personally offended as he was much more compassionate and personal with the demons who lived with him. Engie hated you before he met you, wanting to kill whoever was responsible for damaging his property slowly and painfully.

But you were far from easy prey. And no matter how hard Engie tries to take you down, you somehow always manage to remain just a touch out of reach. The game of cat and mouse is far less endearing to Engie than it was to any of the other vampires.

Eventually, he became increasingly obsessed with the hunt, spending his waking hours preparing for your next ambush, dreaming about the night he would capture and slaughter you. Avenging all his creations you destroyed before now.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, his obsession with you grew as fervently as the hunt itself, culminating with the day Engie decided to try to stalk you during the daylight. Engie was a younger vampire, native to a sunny climate. He never found sunlight to be as unbearable as it was to other vampires, so long as he didn't linger in direct light. Direct sunlight was unpleasant, but it wouldn't burn him to ashes as it would to elder vampires. The real reason he stayed on his own more was to stay away from crowds and give into a feeding frenzy.

He wasn't prepared to be so taken aback by your human vitality. The freshness of life pumping through you, giving you a rare kind of beauty he never saw from any sort of prey before now. You were nothing less than radiant in the light of the sun, a deity incarnate. Your skin flushed with life, your voice pleasant and calm, and your smile all appeared ethereal as though he had seen you for the first time. Engie never thought he'd see you as anything but a mortal enemy, yet at this moment, he was undone. All his resentment and hostility felt so trivial now. He didn't want your hatred. He wanted your adoration. He needed to have you all to himself, but not to kill.

If he couldn't kill you, he thought it was only just to turn you into a vampire.

Only then would his loneliness and resentment for being a vampire be satisfied, and you would be forced to rely on him to survive the strange new existence. All newborn vampires were fragile, and it wouldn't be hard for him to keep you from running away.

Not to mention the bond shared between vampires and their scion would help do away with all the hatred you held for Engie in life. No matter how hard you thought you hated him, once Engie sank his fangs into you and infected you with his venom, it was only a matter of time until your will crumbled as you gave in to the surreal newfound devotion you developed for your vampire mate. All resistance was futile, your rational mind silenced as your primal vampiric urges began to take over.

[skylarkva]

Day After Thoughts on the Vengeance Saga

I was super hyped for the Vengeance Saga, as I am with every saga release, but after sitting with it and digesting a bit, I think Epic act 2 overall is having a pacing issue. (This is going to be super long)

Like here's the thing: the Thunder Saga? Perfection, absolutely nailed it. And then we get into the wisdom Saga, which — although I thoroughly enjoyed it— had something about it that felt off. Now with the vengeance saga I'm realizing that act 2 just doesn't feel long enough.

I loved God Games, but it felt like Athena won the gods over too easily. Hearing the snippets got me hyped, and then in context of the song, I realized those snippets being the whole verse for each god felt too quick. Most of the wisdom saga is paced alright, at least for me, but that last song has been hyped up since the planning stages, and it's a really important moment! A little more back and forth with the gods would have shown just how much getting Ody free meant to Athena.

Now I'm not just saying this because Wangui's vocals are heavenly— we desperately needed more Calypso. It makes me sad because I know Jorge had another song with Odysseus and Calypso that he cut, and I think it would have added so much had it stayed in to the final album. Ody has been trapped with her for seven years, and we see him hit his limit in Love in Paradise, but for the audience that limit is hit immediately. We aren't given enough time to really see Odysseus get desperate, Calypso not understand his needs and wants, and her trying and failing to win over a faithful married man. Because the thing is, now we get to Not Sorry for Loving You, and Calypso is absolutely broken over losing Odysseus. Why? Did she fall in love with him at first sight, or did they talk and she fell deeper in love with him the longer he was there, all while he tried to push her away? That "let me speak" moment stands out to me because of this too. Without the context of seeing those seven years, I'd assumed all Odysseus did was let Calypso speak, because what else can he do with a goddess? So is that the case and she's just being controlling here, or did she truly feel like Odysseus hadn't listened to her during their time together. Idk. It doesn't feel earned and it does a disservice to her character. Plus more Wangui wouldn't hurt. Oh the Calypso saga we could've had...

Then we get Dangerous which, I don't have many notes that song hurt me and then was funky. I love Hermes, moving on.

Charybdis felt underwhelming to me, I feel like it ended too soon. Which could very well be the point, I had just gotten hyped off of the snippets and felt the final battle wasn't as impactful as I'd been expecting it to be. The ending destroyed me though, Jorge did an amazing job there, knew exactly how to stomp on my heart.

Get in the Water was the other song besides Scylla that I had been waiting the entire musical to get to, and I think it was executed almost perfectly, I really have no notes there either.

Six Hundred Strike....oh Six Hundred Strike. It was epic, it was chilling....but the first half just does not fit into the rest of the show musically. I'm mostly talking about once the six hundred men chant starts up. I love Aeolus' theme being used as an instrument, like I actually adore it so much, but those dang drums... For me it shoots straight past "this is a boss fight so this is a video game reference" into "this is Poseidon's boss theme for the Epic fighting game". That part of the song is the first time I've really said to myself "I can't see this on stage". Especially considering where Get in the Water ends musically, this just feels really jarring to me. I actually don't have any problem with Odysseus stabbing Poseidon. This isn't a mortal vs a god anymore, this is a monster vs a god, and a monster that god created at that. I think to make it feel less overpowered though, it could've been fixed with Poseidon saying "alright, fine" instead of "alright, please" to get Ody to stop. Then it would've been less that he was begging and more that he was annoyed and just wanted to be rid of him and never deal with him again. Same with his line delivery of "after everything you've done, how will you sleep at night?". I almost would've liked to hear him laughing there, like in disbelief, or in a mocking tone, only for Odysseus to shut him up with "next to my wife". The wing bag jetpack is also too funny for me to take seriously so I'm gonna ignore that for my own personal head canon.

I love epic and I hope the Ithaca Saga sticks the landing. I'm just dumping my thoughts after last night lmao

[imagionationstation]

So I was watching Knights of the Zodiacs and idk it made me think what if the turtles were like…reincarnation of gods? Idk

Anyways, this is what I’d personally assign -

Leo - Athena. Raph - Ares. Donnie - Apollo (god of knowledge and all that) or Hephaestus. Mikey - Hermes.

I also spun a wheel to let it decide. So much funnier and more interesting.

Leo - Hermes. Raph - Aphrodite (did you know Aphrodite was also a war goddess?). Donnie - Artemis. Mikey - Demeter.

I think it’s fun, you don’t have to respond lol

I play with Greek/Roman history sometimes so I know enough to recognize the gods and their tempers/hobbies/interests.

If they were recarnations, how much of them would remain? Or would they still have the turtles personalities? Would they still have their powers or some variations of them…?

Never seen Knights of the Zodiacs so I have zero frame of reference for the thoughts that you are having. It’s making my train of thought stop at multiple stations despite its desire to chug on.

(Edited due to minor confusion)

Lemme see…

Athena: Goddess of the wisdom and warefar, a leader and very into tatics and strategies, strong views and she was very big about honor, truth, and justice.

Sounds like Leo. Checks out.

Ares: The god of war, very into all kinds of violence. It gives him a bad reputation bc, yk, obvious reasons. He can also be considered the god of courage depending on where you look. He’s not necessarily on anyone’s side as long as violence happens.

He and Athena are often depicted as frenemies, with them fighting often, probably because he likes war for the sake of war and she fights in wars with purpose.

Interesting take on Raph. I can work with that.

Apollo: The god of quite a few things. I remember prophecy and archery in that lineup. Music and poetry was in there too. He also emulates Athena’s beliefs in justice and peace. If I’m recalling correctly, he could also be passionate/emotional and tended to have some jealous streaks.

Yeppers. Sounds like the boy but with a musical flare <3

Hermes: The god of speed and travel/luck. He’s a tricky, mischievous boy with the best intentions. He’s bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and only lives to do as he pleases. He’s very fast, very annoying (to the other gods), and very sneaky. I think he’s also a protector of travelers/wandering souls. He’s genuinely a good, silly guy.

Mikey in a nutshell right there. I think we’re on the same page here.

Other than the fact that I, again, have not seen Knights of the Zodiacs. Sincere apologies.

There’s a whole lot that goes into them being gods, tho.

Do they keep all their powers? ‘Cause mythological gods tend to be overpowerful creatures and overpowerful creatures are no fun.

I want to beat the turtles up. Make them suffer and bond. How do I do that when they have few weaknesses??

What if- they have powers, but they have mutant forms now. So they have the weakness that come with mortal bodies. It’s harder to unlock and use their powers. And it’s really annoying because they have to shift between struggling to use the powers and randomly unlocking them mid-battle, only to find them locked later.

#The Struggle Is Real

I wish I could draw. I have some images on the brain that I’d love to share but sadly my talents do not extend so far.

[silyabeeodess]

DB Analysis: Thoughts on the "Sympathetic" Zamasu

I'm going to be honest: I'm not quite sure how to start this analysis. I'm doing it solely to get my thoughts down on the character somewhere, because something always comes up in discussions about Zamasu that has always bothered me since I first learned about him, getting back into Dragon Ball about two years ago: A lot of people have a habit of labeling Zamasu as not only being a sympathetic villain, but go so far as to say he was never truly evil in the first place.

Personally, however, I have never once seen Zamasu as being traditionally sympathetic. If anything, when it comes to this character, I feel nothing but absolute disgust--even when compared to the uncontested evil of characters like Frieza. At least watching Frieza is entertaining, because we know the good-hearted Goku will always win in the end. When people both in and out of the story make excuses for Zamasu's behavior, however... It's sick, and I'm going to do a full breakdown why.

Let's start this analysis by recapping on Zamasu's feelings toward mortals and all of the crimes he's committed. Zamasu views mortals as impure beings forever marred by sin, completely irredeemable, and that it is more of a mercy to kill them rather than to allow them to continue on in that sin. He stole Goku's body; murdered his own teacher, Gowasu; and committed mass genocide, declaring himself supreme over all as "the wisdom, the law, and the power of the universe" and "the sun that lights this world" to quote Fighterz. His actions are egregious, and they aren't really any different than any of the other villains we see in Dragon Ball. Why do people excuse them?

"He meant well." "His teacher didn't do enough." "He's sympathetic."

Unlike other sympathetic villains, it's not like any evil was done to him personally. He doesn't have some typical, tragic backstory. So, why is he considered sympathetic? Well, it comes from a single thought we've all shared at some point: The world is a terrible place.

Zamasu is someone who only focuses on the negative in the world and in people (specifically mortals). Yes, we can point to Gowasu's failed attempt at showing their good side; however, it's clear that Zamasu doesn't want to really see any differently than what he already believes either. When he met Goku, arguably one of the purist mortals in the entire multiverse, he was too offended by the so-called lack of respect Goku showed to even register that he was, while careless, ultimately a good person.

Moreover, what makes Zamasu any better than the mortals he bashes? Yes, he is a god, but what are the distinguishing factors between a god and a mortal in the Dragon Ball universe? They're not omnipotent, as we've seen countless times throughout the series. They're not all-powerful, as the likes of Goku, Vegeta, and Jiren have shown overpowering different deities. (Even before acquiring god-ki, Goku was stronger than Shin.) Many of them used to be mortals, as we see shown through the hakaishin's passing-of-the-torch. We can even argue that they're still technically mortals, because many of them have been killed or erased and Zamasu literally had to wish for immortality.

Making a real-world comparison, this isn't an Abrahamic godhood: A case of a pure, all-knowing being who can see into the hearts of every person and leads the world with patience and unlimited wisdom. Instead, Dragon Ball shows us gods who have limited knowledge, constantly make mistakes, are insanely impulsive, and tend not to ever bother questioning themselves. And out of all of them, Zamasu is basically a rookie, a supreme kai in-training. Why do we still give him a pass?

Again, because he believes what we believe: People suck. It's such a broad, undirected hatred that we rarely stop of think of what we actually mean by that. Do we hate the evil actions that humanity commits, or do we hate humanity itself? If you hate evil, you look to uproot it, including when it appears in yourself. If you hate humanity, then you never see the good in others and never self-reflect.

All that being said, let's give Zamasu a comparison to another villain: Frollo from Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame. Frollo "saw corruption everywhere except within," viewing himself as a man of the Church and a righteous judge. He was always coming up with excuses for his own sins, even going so far as to blame the very God he claimed to serve. Zamasu acts much the same way, except he doesn't even entertain the idea of a figure of morality being over him: The only god Zamasu "worships" is himself. He's an absolute megalomaniac, a fact we see visualized through his interactions with his partner in-crime, Goku Black, who is literally just himself in another timeline.

Gowasu serves as the prime example to this mindset. Despite being another kai, the person that mentored him, someone who always strove to see the good in others... Zamasu murdered him without a second thought. Why? Because he dared to disagree with him. This is-turn would've also killed Rumshhi, the GoD of their universe. Even Zeno is not an exception even though he fears him, as shown in his team-up with Hearts in Super Heroes. Despite Zamasu's view of "gods good, mortals bad," he will slaughter anyone that doesn't march in lock-step with his ideals.

Not only does he kill other gods and commit all of the same sins he accuses mortals of--even going so far as to revel in the deaths of others--but he had to rely on Goku's mortal body for his Zero Mortal Plan to work in the first place. Shown in the Xenoverse games, if the player joins Zamazu, he's shown to have no issue accepting their help either even though he promises he'll still kill them later. Zamasu is a hypocrite, another trait he shares with Frollo.

Still for some reason, we never call Frollo sympathetic. Well, not all of us have burned down a city, tried to purge an entire race, and lusted after someone not even half our age.

But we all desire justice. We all want to make the world a better place, don't we?

We feel sympathy for Zamasu because he represents the evil we stare in the face every single day. He represents the demon whispering in our ears that any atrocity we can commit is excusable so long as we have a "good reason." Because we're better people. We're smarter people. We're good people... right?

The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Mind where you walk.

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

So Immortal/Mortal Ships

What is the cut off?

Why are some ships with an Immortal/Mortal pairing considered creepy and others aren't? Cuz there has been a surge of people calling 2-year age gaps pedophilic this year, and losing their damn minds if two characters aren't the same age. But then they have age gap ships of their own.

Many of y'all can't keep up the same energy all around. You sit here shipping InuYasha and Kagome, despite how she is 15 and he is 200+, but then attack people who ship Edward and Bella, even though both are physically 17 even if one is technically 104.

But when this is pointed out, how your ship has an even wider age gap in it, you start whining about power imbalance, as if InuYasha ISN'T overpowered and hasn't nearly killed Kagome when he's lost control. But then you'll claim Edward is more mature than InuYasha which is a laugh cuz no he damn well isn't. Eddie Boy is a teen boy through and through. He's just a teen boy from the 1920s. But THEN you'll claim it's the time period they're in and how the 1400s-1500s of Japan is a more forgiving place to have an age gap relationship because they don't have modern technology on hand.

And this will go on. I've seen enough Twitter threads defending InuKag and demonizing other age gap ships.

So where is the cut off?

Cuz I've seen people on Tumblr, arguing that Genshin's Zhongli/Childe is pedophilic because Zhongli is a 6K+ y/o god and Childe is like a 20 y/o twink. Ajax is a literal adult. He is the youngest Harbinger, but he is still an adult. He even has the 'adult man model' y'all whine about. So how can this be pedophilic? Adults in an Adult ship. But cuz Ajax was 18 only two years ago, shipping him with Zhongli makes you a pedophile? Even though he is a literal terrorist and has killed a lot of peopel as the Cryo Archon's 'weapon of war'?

So, what about the Traveler? They are canonically 500+, and heavily hinted to be part of the primordial civilization that existed long before Zhongli came into being. I saw someone on Twitter whining in some Aether/Scaramouche fanart because of age gaps and pedophilia. Traveler being 500+ and Scaramouche being at most 400. How the hell is that pedophilia? Same body type even.

There are Aether/Zhongli fanarts that get attacked for pedophilia too. Zhongli 6K+ and Aether 500+(likely 10K+ according to popular theory). These aren't small numbers. And the Traveler has the mind of an adult and IS legally allowed to drink but is just tired of arguing about it all the time. Traveler doesn't even look like a child despite the claims of people who say being 5'4" makes you a child. On the same breath, some chick demonizing Aether/Zhongli ships Aether's twin with Eula, who is in her 20s and Ei who is 2K+. Why are those age gaps okay?

And there's even more to go from!

How about the Ninth/Tenth Doctor. Old as shit. Everyone seems to ship Nine/Ten with Rose. The age gap there is astronomical despite both being adults with Rose just barely being an adult. That is one of the most popular ships to come out of Doctor Who and the second or third most popular overall.

We have so many age gap fictional couples that are present in pop culture.

Why is it that some age gap ships are totally acceptable when the gap is massive, the power is skewed entirely to one side, and the youngest person in the ship is the equivalent of a blind lemming?

And why do people feel so comfortable throwing the word pedophilia around?

[theherdofturtles]

Hi @hwsevents I'm late I learned about mythtalia march today weee but ah well I merged Tannhäuser and Hetalia. Hopefully the Pope's staff blooms flowers and I get forgiven unlike Tannhäuser.

For slight background, Tannhäuser is an old Germanic myth about Venusberg. In the mythology, all the old pagan gods have retreated into a subterranean world when Christianity overpowered and replaced them. A man, referred to as Tannhäuser, is tasked with guarding the entrance to the subterranean world to ensure the pagan gods do not return to the land. In some versions of the legend, Tannhäuser fails his task and is seduced by the goddess Venus and pulled into the subterranean world (sometimes his memories are fogged and he forgets the world above, less commonly this doesn't happen and he's just fully okay with going to Venusberg). One day, Tannhäuser successfully makes an escape and goes to Rome to ask the pope for forgiveness which in any version never goes well.

Anyway, here's my poke of fun at the beginning of Wagner's version of Tannhäuser:

The mist sunk into the ground around the quiet grotto… all was peaceful. If you considered bathing naiads, sirens flopping around on the grotto edges, a group of dancing nymphs and centaurs very peaceful. Honestly Arthur didn't know why or how he'd fallen asleep in this person's lap. Especially with this whole chaos around him.

Then, suddenly, Arthur snapped upward. You know he'd just had the most awful dream where he was… somewhere… a whole lot different than this place. Yeah. This place made him feel super misplaced. He couldn't quite recall why the dream made him so sad but it made his whole being shudder and he thanked the Lord that the dream was over.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and Arthur jumped. "Wha-"

The hand pulled him backwards, back into their lap, and then he heard the person speak… "Tell me, beloved, what's wrong?"

Oh… Francis? What the hell was Francis doing here— oh! Yes, he recalled. Francis was the… uh… god of love? Yeah, something like that. Arthur nodded to himself in confirmation. It made sense that Francis was Venus.

"I had this terrible dream," he said.

"Tell me about it?"

"Sure. I remembered the sound of church bells… voices, of people I think I once loved. Uh… how long have I been here?"

Francis suddenly looked nervous. "Don't worry about that."

"No, I could swear I'm not supposed to be here. It's a feeling that goes three meta layers deep. What happened? Wait a second… AHA!"

Arthur whirled around and cracked Francis's nose with his fist.

The satisfying way Francis’s eyes widened a half-second before contact, and the pop of his fist against his face, it was the most cathartic thing on earth.

Arthur shook his hand off as if to shake Francis's icky contact from it.

Francis flinched backwards from shock while clutching his nose. "My love," Francis whined, "what was that for!"

"Somehow I forgot you were a bitch."

Francis's affronted expression said he’d never expected Arthur to disrespect him despite all past history and experience Francis should have down by now. Wait… what past history? Arthur was just supposed to be the guard of Venusberg, he'd never had a past history with the god of love.

"How dare you!" Francis gasped, "how dare you insult all the sweet wonder my love devises for you! I made you immortal like me! In the mortal realm everything sucked for you, but here you can delight in my pleasure forever~"

"Gross…" Arthur scrunched up his nose.

"So just forget everything again about the world above the subterranean realm which the old gods have been banished too according to germanic folk mythology, my love, and sing about how beautiful and great and perfect I am," Francis wiggled his eyebrows.

"I'd rather marry a pig. By the way, wasn't I supposed to be guarding the entrance of this place to make sure you didn't escape?"

"Well, yes, but don't you recall in WWV: 70, Overture, when you're off-stage, the music is supposed to recall the Tannhauser folk ballad to the audience's mind so they'll know that I seduced you by the time the Opera has begun?"

Suddenly Arthur remembered who he was and why he felt so misplaced.

"Damnit. I'm stuck in a Wagner opera with you of all people. Does that mean Italy is the pope?"

[shroudkeeper]

08. prompt / shed

To the untrained eye, I would clearly appear to be wandering in this byzantine of monumental trees, weaving between their silhouettes and the dappled light that filtered through. An ominous haze arose to encompass the entirety of this forest, making it difficult for one to find their way, yet the path set before me would reveal itself in time.

With a prayer, I announced myself with the melody of the kanzashi I wore with each languid step taken forward, and with it, the world around me became alive at my feet and from the contours of the landscape, curious spirits were roused from their dormancy. Motes of light the apparitions would appear to others who lacked attunement to the otherworldly, but they revealed themselves to me as freshly departed, ruined spirits.

And there were far more around me than I expected to come across.

I could not be in every single place where death has left an impression, but I make a note to visit them when my task is done, and I will be able to break the chains that have kept them bound here. Perhaps the wind will be one of peace and provide succor, instead of weighing down the heart.

As they slipped from my peripheral vision, the gnarled, twisted branches overhead, groaned as a steady wind gathered at their once verdant leaves, causing a rustling through the canopies. It was a nostalgic, and melancholic sound, which carried a warning as I resumed my approach.

It gathered along the folds of silk, an invisible caress tugged at the ends of my hair, all to draw my attention to where my path would find its end. There stood a lone building, its foundation pillowed by a heavy fog. The shed could easily be mistaken as a place of shelter for the weary who passed through, offering reprieve to the lost. But I knew it well as a clearly placed trap for one to be taken by a ..

❝ . . 食人鬼 ❞

The words formed in my hands and I listened to the clangorous sounds of agreement from the spirits who broke their silence and carried their wails into the ungentle winds. My suspicions proved to be correct.

This variant of malevolence was not unknown to me; I had come across them afore, and the results were very much the same. They violated a mortal's corpse by devouring their flesh, their appetite was insatiable. A feast they would hold with any adventurer or lost traveler who came to find themselves at this unfortunate end of the forest.

But I am no mere adventurer, I am the one who shall cleanse this land of them.

I approached the dilapidated footbridge that led to the very threshold, and upon reaching the poorly hinged doors, they opened suddenly and my quarry presented itself to me.

What I did not anticipate were the forms they had chosen for themselves, nor the fact that I had two to contend with instead of just one. An exceptional ploy; anyone would take sympathy for an elderly couple, one of whom looked as if he was suffering from the burden and toll that old age has brought upon them.

I am accustomed to horrors, and none have struck fear in me, perhaps that aided me in my hunt, for I showed little regard that their faces did not appear mortal to me, but depicted their true nature.

Horrific and malformed.

However, they did not recognize the dark nature that surrounded me, largely due to a veil of hunger that had shrouded them. Far too ravenous they were to be entirely aware of the threat who wore a smile for them. Perhaps they had not met anyone who could overpower them while together, yet.

To them, I appeared as yet another delectable prey, considering how the one masquerading as an elderly woman eagerly welcomed me into what would be my supposed last resting place.

I would play the role they desired to see of me, the delicate flower in need of a night's rest, unarmed, unassuming. I smiled, thanked them in my silence, and prepared myself for what was to come. They had not suspected anything yet..

..but with one touch to usher me into this domain, they find that their fates were already sealed.