#i feel like they would have a rare chance of spawning in the deep dark and a slightly higher chance when killing a cow near a catalyst

[catzgam3rz]

The Jimmy Solidarity blog that I rp with is a deepdark mooshroom hybrid with tiny little wings and that concept seems like something you'd enjoy (deepdark mooshroom+ u like moobloom him n all)

Right on the money with that dear anon >:D! This is a little Deep Dark Mooshroom concept I doodled a couple days ago! I'm planning on using it for Red Dlsmp Jimmy!

[chthonicavalon]

Purpose

It had started as a prickling over the skin.  Nothing so real as the press of pins against bare flesh but the ephemeral feeling of gossamer over skin.  It was a wrongness that slowly flowed from just a brush on the hand to being pervasive in the very air.  In any other instance, it’d be enough to make a cat’s hackles rise before loping off away from the threat, known or unknown.

Haruka knew this threat.  She was never one to walk away from a challenge, not the least of which one from the void.

It was rare for an individual object to be brought from the doomed void.  After all, when voidsent came to Hydaelyn from the darkness beyond, they would either inhabit a shell or have their weaponry built into them.  What objects they did bring were often a part of their corpus and dissolved into nothingness when their owner was cast out – at least from her meager experience and through consultation with others. To find a spear, a full fledged, functional weapon radiating dark energies as it lay buried inside Shona was quite the surprise.  But more, it was an opportunity she wouldn’t pass up.  Taking the spear, a construction of the void, gave her the chance to discover more about her friend’s assailant but also about the ryuujin inside her.  

Hiding it inside a safehouse – one of several she kept in Eorzea for certain trusted individuals in her network to use when needed, each under a false name – she kept the foul object in a lead-lined safe, away from prying eyes and enchanted with sigil and ofuda to keep the mystical from sensing it.  She wouldn’t risk its contamination seeping into the nearby aether nor some random passerby taking it while thinking it was a valuable weapon or easy gil when sold.  Not that she thought anyone would want to take this terrible spear.  Anyone with any sensitivity to aether could feel the vile darkness wafting off the shaft and tip.

It was already awakening.  Haruka could feel the dragon uncoil itself inside her breast as she held the evil spear in one hand.  The ryuujin, an ancient being she’d dubbed so in a time when she didn’t know the entity’s true name, hated all things spawned from the void.  It made her sensitive to when the planar creatures were nearby as the entity began to hunt.  And as it wanted to hunt, so did Haruka.  It had served her well, when helping Senelle over the past cycle – predators know other predators, after all.  It had failed her in the end and she’d been forced to rely on her own strength of will to overcome the mental onslaught of a monstrosity of void.  The ryuujin had limits, just as it had assets.  And while she had to be wary of its influence, especially after it had whitened her hair, she was bound to it permanently.  She might as well learn how to get along with it.

I do not like this, said an androgynous voice in her head.  The heavy katana she always carried rested on a nearby table, close enough to hear and take if needed.  It had ever preached the values of Doma, of honor and sacrifice.  The spirit of the ancient blade and Haruka had strife in the past, but now mostly got along after the hyur had proven her dedication to the Uesugi ancestral home.  But they also knew the danger of the wyrm coiled inside.

I know, Harukaze, Haruka answered in the depths of her mind.  The connection between them was forever present, though distance strained the tether.  It is necessary, however.

That is a lie.  You know this is not.

If I am to co-exist with the ryuujin and discover more about our friend, then yes, it is.

Find another way.

A fourth voice joined those of the hyur, the sword, and the dragon.  This one deep and masculine, it added to the perpetual cacophony of voices that infested her head.  Arashi is testing herself, preparing for another battle, said Bilei.  She could feel his presence outside the door to the safehouse, disguised as a stray cat.  Or dog.  No one who saw Bilei could really tell which.  Soon, she will unleash the weapon in combat against the one who harmed her friend.  I can think of no more honorable way to spend one’s time.

The squabble between the spirit in the blade and the raiju began, creating a debate space in her mind and forcing Haruka to tune them out.  Occasionally, she knew peace away from the myriad entities that had access to her thoughts.  This was not one of those times.

The prickling worsened, especially in her palm where she held the weapon.  A growling began to rumble in her head.  The wyrm found the scent of ancient enemies, of something to slake its thirst for destruction on.  Taking spear in her other hand, Haruka looked at her bare palm.  Where the skin had touched the wretched weapon, small, flexible, blue-black scales began to manifest, appearing from just under the skin.  The ryuujin’s influence.  At least these just faded, usually, and didn’t need to be forcibly ripped away like the larger, armored patches that sometimes appeared.

Gloves, Haruka thought to herself, away from the ongoing argument.  Probably armored gloves will be needed to use this.  Perhaps I will speak with Liana about some sort of… aether restricting enchantment?  It might save her some pain, after all, she managed to learn to use the spear.  After all, she planned to return it to its sender in a particularly vengeful fashion.

Setting down the spear, she found the bracers and gloves she usually wore and slipped them on.  With the fit ensured and armor bound securely, the lifted the spear again.  Old lessons from her mother rose in her mind, further blocking out the pair of kami bound to her.  Muscles began to flex as she mimicked a pose taught to her so long ago in a distant childhood, nearly thirty years past.  Going through the steps like she would a kata, it was like her mother, Eadwynn, was next to her again.

Remember your purpose, she had said in the aftermath of the Calamity.

Words Haruka still didn’t understand.  But perhaps that didn’t matter.  She knew she was a blade, honed to precision and used against those who would harm others, especially her family.  She’d begun to make a purpose of her own.

[itskatastrophe-x]

Unhealthy Competition (CH1) c!Punz x Reader

The enemies to lovers fic has turned into more than one chapter so fuck it more than one chapter!!! Here’s the first one :3

TRIGGER WARNINGS!!! : Blood, death, suicide, swearing

Word count : 1,540

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^

Competition was always your favorite thing about your job. There were two other people you had to fight with for power in the SMP constantly, and somehow you always came out on top. There were few occasions where one of the others would beat you to a kill, and you took pride in that. You had travelled to the SMP a handful of months back on a mission, and decided to stay since a lot of these people seemed wealthy, and you were right. The payout for jobs was astronomical compared to your homeland, so you stayed. You honed your skills and became the best damn mercenary they had ever had here. You had jobs to kill kings in far off kingdoms, regular townsfolk, and even take out towns. You had quickly climbed the ranks and hoarded your wealth, making a base deep in the woods away from everyone else to keep the illusion of being bottom rung. There were moments where you would come in contact with the other two mercs, sparring on those rare meetings. Other times, you would meet at a kill and have to fight for the right to take the kill. Those moments were terrifying, but almost every time you won. Most of the time it would be against the kid that went by the name Purpled. He was agile and quiet, good in the shadows and dark areas. He was a silent killer, made perfect to be an assassin. 

Even more rarely, you would have to fight the other man, Punz. He was just below you in rank, and he was more likely to steal kills. He flaunted his wealth and power and had a large plot of land in the main lands of the SMP, surrounded by tall, dark walls. He was arrogant and selfish and all he cared about was money and bragging. He loved the praise that came with the power, and that annoyed the hell out of you, so each time you beat him, you couldn’t help but to be as cocky as him, wearing a smug smirk with your axe pressed against his throat. There was one day where you were sparring with him, both covered in blood and bruises, swearing back and forth at each other, and you ended up pushing him against a tree. His head flew back against the sturdy bark, making him see stars as he went down. You took that opportunity to snatch the dumb gold chain he always wore, and before he had the chance to even stand up, you stashed it away in an ender chest and took off. You felt like that knocked him down a few pegs, but now you couldn’t sleep.

So here you are, sitting at the edge of your bed, eyes wide open in the dead of night listening to the sounds of crackling and the smell of smoke. The forest around you had been set on fire while you were asleep, and you knew it had to be Punz. Who else knew where you lived? Him, and only because he stumbled across your little lodge once trying to escape a really bad storm. It was awkward and he was angry the whole time that you had been so hospitable. And now your lodge was in danger. You packed as much as you could before the fire reached you, opened a hatch under your small house, and jumped in. You had hoped you wouldn’t have to use your escape, seeing as it went all the way to bedrock and was a dangerous route, but it had to be done. You were surrounded by fire and you knew there was no way through it. The fall lasted about ten seconds before you hit a pool of water and swam back up. The area around you was small and cramped. There were a couple chests lining the walls, brewing stands, a small emergency farm, and tunnels leading in every direction. You had spent almost every waking second to dig under everything possible. A tunnel leading to every major destination in the SMP possible. What you didn’t expect to see, though, was Punz sprinting full speed at you from the direction of L’Manburg. It took you a second to gather what was happening, but when it hit you, you climbed out of the pool and ran to a chest, pulling out a potion of invisibility, and chugging the bitter liquid. Seconds later, you were completely invisible, eliciting swearing from the man halfway to you now. 

“You pussy, get out here and fight me,” he yelled, still sprinting towards you. You snuck to the tunnel heading west, making sure to press yourself as far against the wall as you could, hoping you could just melt with the cool deepslate behind you. “I did my research, bitch,” he spat as he made it to the main room. “While you were hiding away, I was learning everything about you. You really shouldn’t have pissed me off. Do you not know how I was the top dog before you even got here? I helped put that powerful, green bastard in prison. I killed some of the most wealthy, powerful people you couldn’t even touch.” He stood there, listening, so you stopped your movement, hoping he wouldn’t hear your shallow breaths. To your surprise, he started off in the opposite direction, still yelling. “Two can play at that game,” he yelled, pulling out a potion of his own. Fear finally sank in as he disappeared. The last thing to fade was his face as he turned around and smirked. He knew. And now you were fucked. 

You took off running, weaving through the hundreds of tunnels you had dug. You had every path memorized down to the pebble just in case something like this happened, but he said about research so he must know too. You stopped at another small room and stood there for a second. “I know every movement,” his voice echoed to you. You were surrounded by his voice and it sent chills down your spine. “I told you I did research,” he said. “You fucked with the wrong merc,” his voice came from behind you. You could feel his breath against your neck and slowly, the freezing metal of a weapon came to your throat. He had you pinned and there was nothing you could do about it. You shivered at the touch of netherite and the warmth of another person behind you, unable to see anything. 

“Yknow, at first I thought it would be fun to let you keep running, but killing you right now would be a lot more fun. Sending you back to spawn while you lose everything you own. Now, give it back.” His voice was laced with anger, but somehow it was playful. You couldn’t lie to yourself, the man was hot. But you were competitors and merc life wasn’t easy. But the thought crossed your mind relentlessly about a life you could have with him. You wouldn’t dare admit it out loud. “What if I didn’t,” you retorted, keeping up the playful atmosphere. The blade dug farther into your throat, now drawing blood and bringing tears to your eyes. “Oh sweetheart, you really aren’t in the position to deny me what you stole.” Slowly, your body came back into view, the potion finally wearing off. You smirked and scoffed at him, relaxing against the blade. “Now, what kind of mercenary would I be if I admit that I lost? Why would I give up right here?” You slipped your hand into your pocket carefully, the smooth surface of gold hitting your fingers. He slowly came to your vision. His potion wearing off as well. The large netherite axe in front of you held to your throat was intimidating. The surface was scratched and chipped from years of use. It dug farther, making it hard to breathe. 

In one swift move, you wrapped your hand around the totem in your pocket and pushed against the sharp blade, effectively killing yourself. The shock on his face was the last thing you saw before things went black. Seconds later, on the floor, light rushed back and you saw the man standing over you in complete horror. You had taken him off guard and that gave you enough time to get up, set tnt down, and run off. The explosion was deafening but you kept running, zigzagging. You pulled out a lever and placed it against the wall, flipping it to reveal a secret door that blended in perfectly with the rest of the stone. You took the lever, entered the door, placed it on the other side, and closed it all in ten seconds. You ran down the hall. Up some stairs, and to a small pool of water. You pulled out your trident from your inventory and positioned yourself to fly up the small tunnel up. It took you multiple times and multiple stops to get to the surface, and the full moon greeted you happily. The woods in the distance gave off an eerie glow as they burned. You smiled, pleased with yourself, and ran off in the direction of your secret hideaway through the nether.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

This is a request from @dashhoney25

Erik and his boo, London, make up for lost time. 😈

Warnings: LOTS of Smut, Rough sex, dirty talk. This shit...had me wet AF.

There are four levels of assassins: the novices, dilettantes, journeymen, and lastly masters. The masters, men with military or paramilitary backgrounds who travel to their contracts have few local ties that law enforcement can use. They excel at their craft, and operate quietly and without incident. In theory, the whispered meetings will be held in secret, the job will be executed with precision and grace, and no one will witness the escape. As a class one type assassin, Erik Killmonger was genetically enhanced in order to perform physical tasks much more efficiently than an average peak-human. To keep his skills in balance, Erik Killmonger practices his combat, shooting, assassination, and stealth skills whenever he is not on an assignment. He has over his life become a myth in the underworld due to his skills. Many doubt Erik Killmonger’s existence because of his skills in completing impossible assignments to the point that the FBI and CIA denies his existence…

Erik Killmonger spawned on a beach in Miami from his F470 Combat Rubber Raiding Craft at approximately 9:30 PM. He’s wearing a Roka wetsuit that provides luxurious comfort and no restrictions. The ocean waters emit a bright blue glow as the waves crashed and the tide came in because of tiny organisms called Lingulodinium polyedrum. With him, Erik Killmonger has on a pair of thermal imaging goggles resting on top of his tapered locs. Frontwards, Erik Killmonger spots two armed guards pacing in front of the architect-designed luxury beach home. Erik Killmonger tugged on the goggles, bringing them down over his onyx eyes. Both of them are carrying a GLOCK 19 and wearing crisp black suits and polished black dress shoes. One beefy man and the other looking about his weight and height. Good. 

Erik Killmonger has mastered the art of stealth, being able to terminate multiple enemies in the same area one at a time and sneak up on almost anybody and quietly neutralize them. Erik Killmonger also has an expert level understanding of the use of disguises in order to access unauthorized areas of a location. He needed the disguise of one of the guards to get inside of the home so he could grab what he needed for his Nightcall mission. Keeping low, his body hidden by the Lyme grass that sprouted from the beach, Erik Killmonger spots a pool on the left side. Moving quickly,  He walks inside the pool room and finds a tool box sitting on a surfboard table. Walking back out, he went around to the left side of the house until he saw the garage. Erik Killmonger uses the screwdriver that he picked out of the tool box to short-circuit the signal box, which will allow him to open up the garage door for access. He rounded a corner and parkour rolled, finding a good hiding spot. 

“Man, this is a bust...what exactly are we guarding?” The beefy guard with a Glasgow smile and a clean shaven head says before taking a quick puff from his cigarette. He spoke with an Australian accent from what Erik Killmonger could pick up while hiding behind a cherry-red sports car. 

“All I know is I’m getting paid,” The other guard that sounded like a Florida native says before turning to grab the cigarette from his partner's hand. He runs a hand through his jet black hair that reminded Erik of how greasers used to wear it back in the 50s. Blowing smoke towards the sky, he chokes up a bit. 

“Are these M-Marlboro golds?” He says between coughs and slight wheezes. 

“Yep, the only kind I smoke...looks like you can’t handle it though,” The beefy guard laughs tumultuously. 

“I’m more of a codeine guy,” The greaser says before handing the cigarette back to the other guard, “I prefer my prescription drugs.”

“That shit will have you on the floor, man.” 

Erik checked the time on his G-Shock Casio Camouflage watch. He didn’t bring a lot of tech with him since this job is supposed to be silent, quick, and precise. He couldn’t leave any traces of himself behind. For Erik, these types of jobs were always the hardest for him, that’s why he took another week to survey the area with his Dragon X12 U11 Drone late at night before accepting the Nightcall mission. The two guards kept talking nonsense, wasting a breath with every word when Erik Killmonger could be in the luxury beach home. He only had thirty minutes left. Since taking out both of them will bring too much attention, he decided to take them down one by one. 

“Hey...what was that?” The greaser says mid laugh. He shared a look with his partner before they both went stony-faced. He pulls out his GLOCK 19, checking the magazine for rounds before turning towards the garage, “I’ll be back, you know we aren’t really supposed to leave this post. If Alma asks, tell her I’m checking for a noise.” 

“Gotcha, just hurry back, you know that bitch will have something to say,” the beefy guard reminds him. 

With his gun pointed straight ahead with a two-handed grip and unwavering eyes, the greaser walks slowly past the cherry-red sports car, Erik Killmonger’s body no longer there. Making a left turn, heading towards the pool room, the greaser aims his gun left, right, behind, and in front of him. It was dark and anyone could be hiding behind the many shelves filled with storage bins and other miscellaneous items. Erik watched the greaser walk far enough into the pool room before stepping out from behind a cluttered storage cabinet. 

Erik Killmonger got really close behind the greaser without being detected, grabbing him around his throat by putting him in a choke hold, the crease of his arm between his bulging bicep, tricep, and flexor, squeezing with ease before he went limp in his arms. He dropped him, getting down on his knees to remove his suit and get dressed. Once he was fully clothed and looking like the other armed guards, Erik Killmonger places the GLOCK 19 in the suit jacket pocket before taking a calm yet treacherous stroll out to the other guard. 

_____________________

London’s eyelids fluttered open with a hassle around 3:18 AM, just five hours before she had to be to work. London is a Cyber Security Analyst for CSOC, a five-star rated computer security company in New York City, New York. The high and wide windows within the bedroom of her Penthouse gave her a nighttime view of the Midtown Manhattan skyline and at its feet is the whole geometry of Central Park. The high end silk bedding duvet cover set in black has perfect temperature-regulating properties that would usually help her sleep but with the absence of her man there was little to no chance for her to drift off again. London scoots over towards the edge of the left side of the upholstered platform bed in black to effectively turn on the side lamp. After rubbing her tired eyes, London grabs her phone to see if she had any missed calls or texts from him. Sure enough, the busy man himself sent her a text almost two hours ago. 

Erik: I just boarded my private jet, I’ll see you when you wake up baby girl. I’ll be right next to you. 

London and Erik have been exclusive for a little over a year. They met because Erik was a longtime client of CSOC and London would personally work for him whenever he needed it. She picked up on his flirtatious cues and the way his eyes blazed every time he looked at her. It was her round, sparkling topaz eyes with sweeping lashes; glowing honey skin; high cheekbones every time she smiled; glossy full lips; bouncy blunt cut copper hair; and trim frame with a plump backside. London didn’t expect anything to happen between them since Erik could be a bit emotionally closed off but he had a deep, and in the beginning, unexpressed admiration for London. He very rarely showed a liking towards anyone around him but for some reason, London changed that. Beneath his bad boy persona is a charming, mysterious, and intellectual man. London fell in love with him before she found out what he did for a living. Erik is an Assassin. Killing people as an occupation of course terror struck her in the beginning but she couldn’t leave him alone no matter how much her conscience tried to sway her. 

The beginning of their relationship...let’s just say it was nothing short of wild. Erik used to take London on big trips to places like Dubai, Japan, Colombia, and Saudi Arabia whenever he had work. That changed when Erik almost had a near death experience when trying to escape from a mission. He ended up hospitalized in a secret facility for trained killers like himself somewhere in Arizona. London made up for his lack of being there by working more hours which led her to a position as a Lead Cyber Security Analyst. Her pockets swelled even though she didn’t necessarily need the money since Erik could afford to take care of both of them. London grew tired from working long and hard hours and whenever she would come home to find Erik there she wouldn’t feel up to doing anything sexually. He was always on the move and she was always at work back in NYC. A strain between them both began to form. 

Erik didn’t fuss much about it, knowing how demanding his job is but whenever London felt a certain way about their situation he would let her vent to him, rubbing his baby girl’s back, kissing her gently, whispering reassurance to her; that things are going to get better; that she should leave her job and stay home. As easy as all of that sounded, London couldn’t bring herself to leave all that she worked so hard for behind her. To top it all off, London is a strong, independent woman who has done almost everything herself before Erik walked into her life. Yeah, he’s her daddy, but sitting at home waiting on his FaceTime call, his text, or to even simply hear his voice wasn’t enough. Also, she had to keep in mind that the future isn’t promised for the both of them. If things didn’t work out, London would be on her own again. The lack of sexual attention was indeed driving London crazy. Taking baths alone turned into London using her waterproof rabbit vibe or the faucet to make her cum. Other times she would mount her suction cup dildo that is an exact mold of Erik’s dick on the edge of the tub to ride. If she couldn’t have daddy’s long, thick, veiny black dick, then the toy would just have to make up for that when he’s not around. 

London snatched the silk duvet from her body before walking to the master bathroom. With the lights on, London turned to stare at her reflection through the backlit vanity mirror. London gently touched one of the taps twice, the warm water flowing out and into the single copper basin of the bathroom sink. Cupping her hands, the white iced out diamond Cuban link 10k yellow gold bracelet on her right wrist twinkling beneath the lights, London watches with drowsy eyes as the water fills in her hands. A few times, London rinses her face with the warm water to calm herself down so she can go back to sleep peacefully without tossing and turning. Lifting her face from the sink basin, eyes closed because of the water dripping from her face, London blindly grabs a folded black cotton facial towel with gold trimming. She dabs her face, taking in the clean and soft fresh linen smell. 

“Why are you up so late?”

London blanched, when Erik startled her with his large hands grabbing at her waist from the back. To this day, London still wasn’t used to Erik’s stealth. His feet are like feathers hitting the floor. London is wearing a black Sheer Marabou Romper that has a cinched waist, fluffy feathery trim, and thin straps. One thing Erik loves to see her in any chance he got was lingerie or nothing at all. Looking up into the vanity, London took in Erik’s appearance. He’s wearing his usual all black from head to toe; black cable knit long sleeve top that clung to his hulking frame and black drop crotch destroyed jeans. The layered diamond tennis chains around his neck matched the bracelet on London’s wrist and the Rolex on his left wrist with its diamond bezel didn’t go unnoticed either. 

“I couldn’t sleep, it’s been that way for the past few weeks,” London rubs his strong hands with thick fingers around her waist, “How was this job?”

“Unnecessary, but I have another two million in my bank account so I can’t complain,” Erik’s thick lips circled London’s exposed neck, “You can’t sleep because of me, huh?”

“I’m used to you being next to me, yes, but I know you’re so busy,” London turns to face Erik. His hair from the dim lights of the bathroom looked almost raven, dreads messily resting against his forehead. London’s hands reach out to stroke his tapered waistline. She could feel all of the tiny raised scars beneath her manicured nails the more she lightly scratched him. 

“I’ve been getting calls for jobs left and right. Nothing else matters when I’m with you...I miss my baby,” Erik’s hand makes its way to London’s copper hair, slicking back the pressed out strands from her face before placing some behind her ears, “Haven’t been giving you the attention you need, and then you’re wearing my favorite too, probably waiting for me to come home and properly take it off of you.” 

“Properly taking my clothes off for you is ripping them to pieces,” London giggles before lifting to her tiptoes to kiss Erik’s thick, moist lips, “Why don’t you take a shower so we can lay in bed, I want you to wrap your arms around me,” London rubs Erik’s biceps. 

“Aight, ma, let me take a quick shower and I’ll meet you in bed,” Erik traced the pout of London’s bottom lip before giving her another kiss with a little bit of tongue. 

London walked back to the bedroom, pulling the silk duvet back and climbing back into bed. She propped herself up on her side to watch Erik undress. The standing shower system they have was London’s favorite. It has a square shower head with LED, remote-controlled LED, a detachable hand shower if you wanted to use it, and a thermostatic touch panel mixer with a digital display. The Rainfall mode made London experience the pleasure of a warm summer rain in her own bathroom. Her body was so tired but she couldn’t stop staring at him as he stripped out of each piece of clothing. Erik’s sinewy physique is so defined and well-built, so much so that you can even tell through his clothing. The raised marks on his torso, arms, and back caused her pierced nipples to grow taut as if she could feel his body rubbing against hers. 

Stepping into the shower, Erik puts it on Rainfall mode before standing directly under the square shower head. As the water sprouted from the shower head it trickled over Erik’s body making lazy patterns. He grabs for his favorite peppermint and eucalyptus body wash with a soap sponge to clean himself. He must have known that London was watching him because his ridiculously big dick was swaying back and forth with each movement of his body. London hasn’t had that big black dick in her for at least a few weeks now. When she first saw that fat dick in person she was sure she wouldn’t be able to take it. All that dick you’ll end up with no walls, tangled intestines, and half a stomach. She paid close attention to the way Erik grabbed his dick at the base, bringing it up against his lower abdomen to wash his balls. That heavy nut sack on him had her drooling. It had to have been almost 5 AM now. She was going to be extremely tired at work. 

________________

London arrived to work thirty minutes late with her daily homemade green smoothie in hand. She’s wearing a charcoal grey pencil skirt with a silk black top and black So Kate pumps on her feet. Her copper hair is swept to the side and bouncing with each step she took. When London woke up Erik wasn’t on his side of the bed. After freshening up and getting dressed, London went looking for him and found him in his weapons room unloading a few rounds to test out the new artillery. She didn’t want to disturb him too much so she gave him a quick kiss before leaving him alone until she made it back home. London walks past the rounded glass top receptionist desk before pushing open the commercial double glass doors to her work area. 

Having her own office means peace and quiet now. London gave some of her coworkers tight lipped smiles before entering her work space, allowing the frosted glass door to close behind her. 888 Seventh Avenue provided magnificent views of Central Park and the Manhattan skyline. London takes a seat at her modern black wood executive desk with a Mac desktop computer and other office supplies. She has two meetings to attend and one will be starting within the next hour. London checks her work email for any important information from clients while sipping her green smoothie. Time trickled by slowly and London hadn’t noticed that Erik had called her a few times. After receiving a reminder about the meeting via company email, London checks her phone. Erik sent her a voice message which was rather unlike him. London listens despite her confusion. 

“Hey what’s up, baby, how are you doing? I didn’t get a chance to really talk to you this morning since the new artillery came in, but...I’m sitting here just thinking about you and baby... I just want to see your face. Can you send me a picture or a video of yourself? I miss that pretty face….” he paused for a second, “I’m not gonna lie, ma...I’m feeling some type of way because I’m sitting here just thinking about you...thinking about tasting you...thinking about the other night when you watched me take a shower before you fell asleep…” Erik exhaled, “I miss that wet pussy, baby...I know that shit was wet last night...like goddamn...I know you’re panties had to be soaked, shit.” 

London was seated on the edge of her seat while her free hand gripped the handle of her seat. She couldn’t believe he was saying this to her in her voicemail. She instantly needed her man. 

“I’m saying...I’m not complaining at all because I love that wet ass pussy on my face and in my fucking mouth...grinding that pussy across my lips and my beard...Still tasting your pussy juices on my mustache...I wanna suck on that clit...that shit make you so goddamn wet, girl...spread them fat pussy lips and slowly guide my tongue up and down...up and down...fuck,” Erik hisses, “I miss that pussy gripping my fingers...you like that shit don’t you? Daddy’s fingers in your tight little pussy? Goddamn...fuck that I want you to take a picture of how wet your pussy is right now...yeah, I know that’s a little naughty but I know you’re my nasty little girl so you’ll do that shit anyway, right? I’ll spank that ass if you don’t send me a fucking pic, girl...I’ll spank that ass just how I do when I’m busting that pussy open from the back…”

London closed her eyes, praying to god that she would go through the rest of her day after this voicemail. She’s definitely wet alright; fucking soaked. If London pulled her panties to the side right now it would probably reveal a sticky, slimy mess. He had to be beating that fat ass dick right now. 

“Man...now you got me wanting to fuck the shit out of you, London...put my hands on your hips and start off nice and slow in that pussy...shit, we both know that pussy good...puss will have me busting a fat nut so fast...hell nah, girl…” Erik’s voice lowered over the phone to a whisper that ran down London’s spine and straight to her clit, “I just want you to know how good that pussy tastes and feels baby...pussy so fucking good...I love when you say don’t stop daddy, you know daddy ain’t stopping for nothing. Daddy got something long and thick for your ass…and I want that fat pussy in my mouth…”

The voicemail had ended two minutes ago but London was so frozen with shock that she couldn’t move enough to close her mouth. She finally removed the phone from her ear before checking to see that no one was watching. They couldn’t anyway because of the frosted glass doors but London wanted to be absolutely certain. Scooting back in her black Sterling Leather Executive Chair, London gathers the bottom of her skirt, bringing it up and around her waist. London brings her left hand down between her legs to pull the crotch of her panties to the side. She scoots to the edge of the chair so her pussy is sitting nice a plump for a perfect picture. Grabbing her cell phone, London activates her camera from her lock screen, turning it to selfie mode before aiming it as best as she could to achieve a good angle so he can see everything. London takes a few pictures, one with her lips sitting nice and fat and the other with her lips spread so that he can see how hard and poked out her clit is and how much of her creamy wetness spilled from her pussy. 

“There you go daddy,” London says before sending it off to Erik. She wasn’t happy at all that she had to leave for her meeting. London brings all the necessary material for the meeting before exiting her office for the conference room. When she entered the conference room, everyone was already in their usual spots so London quickly found hers near the front right across from the manager of CSOC, Linda Yeager. 

“Goodmorning, London, do you have the contingency plans packet for the meeting today?” 

London’s eyes swept over Linda’s appearance. Linda has her long strawberry blonde hair pulled back into a low ponytail and a navy blue women’s suit on with a white blouse underneath. Her veneer smile is wide and similar to that of a horse and her thin lips are painted red to bring out the heavy makeup look she went for today. 

“Yes,” London opens her portfolio, handing Linda the packet that she created yesterday, “I made sure that everyone received a new one before today.” 

“Excellent,” Linda stands from her seat before making her way to a podium situated in front of the conference room, “Okay...Good Morning everyone! I know today is going to be yet another stress-filled one but we all know this is a necessity,” Linda pulls out a laser pointer, aiming it at the presentation behind her, “Today we will be discussing contingency plans that the company will implement in case of a successful attack. Since cyber attackers are constantly using new tools and strategies, cyber security analysts, such as yourself, need to stay informed about the weapons out there to mount a strong defense.”

Linda went on and on for about an hour before everyone was dismissed to assist with clients to keep intruders, attackers or hackers out of networks in order to protect digital files and information systems against unauthorized access. London made it back to her office with a bottle of Fiji water, taking her seat again. Before she started any type of work, London grabs her phone from her desk drawer because she knew Erik had a response for what she sent him. Sure enough, he left her yet another voicemail. London prepared herself for a lustful ear full. 

“Baby...fuck...I just wanna eat that pussy up...I might have to come see you for lunch today...Goddamn...mmmhhh...you know eating pussy is my shit, right? Ima tear that creamy pussy up, girl...make love to that pussy with my fucking tongue...put that whole pussy in my mouth...mmmh…damn, I wish I could eat that...Look at the lips on this pretty motherfucker.. gawd dayum! I’d slurp the hell out of them lips...call me back...call me the fuck back, London.” 

London calls Erik back with no hesitation. She could feel her heartbeat in her throat almost with the amount of anticipation running through her veins. 

“London...can daddy come eat that suckable pussy for lunch?” That was his greeting as soon as he picked up. 

“In my car? baby, you know it’s an open lot...people will see,” London says with a sultry voice. 

“London... I’m tryna eat that pussy… you gon’ make me wait?” 

“I can try to get home sooner...that way, you can eat my pussy all day if you want to.” London’s tongue dragged across her upper lip, “it’s been a while, I know you miss this pretty pussy.” 

“Yeah?” Erik says, “All day baby?”

“Uh-huh, all day...any way you like…”

“That’s a mouth full of pussy ima need a lot of time to eat that shit up,” Erik chuckles, “I guess that will be dinner then, swallow all that pussy juice and slurp up that clit, yeah?” 

London ran her pink and white ombré acrylics through her copper hair. She could feel her clit poking against the crotch of her panties and her pierced nipples stiffen behind her silk top. She wanted Erik to suck on her nipples so damn bad that she thrust her chest forward like his wet mouth was wide open and waiting. London is a B cup so she could easily go without a bra. She wished she would have now because her nipples are rubbing against the silk of her shirt. They are so damn hard. 

“Ima be face first in that ass as soon as you walk through the door, London.” 

“I know, baby,” London spoke softly while using a single finger to circle her taut left pierced nipple. 

“Yes, sit that fat pussy on my face.” 

“Daddy, I gotta go,” London’s voice didn’t match her words. 

“Aight...just Gon’ leave me drooling all over myself until you get home, huh?” 

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

London knew Erik had to be fiending since they haven’t had sex in over two weeks. He would have another job lined up soon and from his words and the harsh, uneven sound of his voice, that told London everything she needed to know. Erik needed her. Part of it made London feel guilty because there were times when he would simply watch her masturbate in the tub. He would sit on the toilet after coming home from a job, his body just as tired. London would be in the jacuzzi whirlpool tub, her waterproof rabbit vibe going to town on her clit beneath the water. She didn’t mind him watching her, he didn’t even complain about her pleasuring herself instead of letting him do it. No, Erik would simply sit there with this sexy, devilish grin on his face, his eyes all low and seductive while they peered through the soapy water to take a look at how she worked that vibrator over her clit. 

That’s it baby..make that pussy cum

Mhm, good girl...you making that fat kitty cum, baby?

Then, there were the times he walked in on her riding her dildo in the shower with it mounted to the wall. These times she hadn’t expected him to be home so soon. His sudden appearance would make her feel timid to finish but Erik would insist that she continue because he really wanted to watch her. He would stand outside of the shower, his eyes focused on the way the dildo that’s an exact mold of his dick would slide in and out of her creamy pussy. The look on her face is so beautiful while she fucked herself. She just looks so helpless and useless with each stroke. Water mixed with her creamy mess would drizzle down her inner thighs with each stroke and it made his dick chub up real fast but he didn’t intervene. He knew he wasn’t around often to take care of his baby girl, she deserved to play in her pussy. 

You’re opening that pussy up beautifully, baby

Definitely A Greedy Pussy Indeed. I Love It. 

His words made her cum in an instant. 

________________________

[ Greetings Killmonger…..]

Erik heard the alert from his personal work computer all the way from the bathroom. He walked into his master bedroom with water still trickling from his body and a towel wrapped around his hips. His office was just in the other room where his laptop was located. He walked up to the laptop, tapped a series of keys and his Oracle message popped up in green letters with a black background that reminded him of the Matrix. 

“Oracle,” Erik spoke lazily before taking a seat at his desk, “another mission?”

 [Yes...do you accept the mission? ]

“...yes,” He says while stroking his goatee, “Lay out the details.” 

[ Russia’s ambassador to Turkey named Andrey G. Karlov is supposed to be attending an art exhibit two weeks from now on Monday in Ankara, the capital of Turkey. Your assignment is to get to him and kill him before he reaches the art exhibit. We can’t have any witnesses. This job will require special gear and technology. We will provide a black Ducati sports bike and you have a suite booked at the JW Marriott Hotel Ankara. If the mission is successful, 3.5 million will be wired to your offshore bank account in Belize. ]

“Sounds legit...send me all the information I need on Karlov along with my hotel and I’ll be ready.” 

[ Excellent. Happy killing Mr. Killmonger….]

His laptop screen blacked out which meant that whatever information that was previously mentioned would be deleted without a trace. Erik has two weeks to prepare for his next job. He trained all day to keep up with his skills. It’s never a good look to take too much relaxation time. Standing from his desk chair, Erik makes his way into his master bedroom to rub his body down with cocoa butter body oil and slip on a pair of lounge pants. The body oil softened and conditioned his body perfectly. He slipped on a pair of black joggers and walked to the bathroom to finish his facial routine. Erik believes in taking care of himself, in a balanced diet, and in a rigorous exercise routine. Erik applies an herb mint facial masque which he leaves on for ten minutes while he prepares the rest of his facial routine. After rinsing the mask, Erik applies a moisturizer, some under-eye balm to help alleviate the dark circles forming, then finally, he sets it with a protective lotion. 

Back within his bedroom, staring out at Midtown through one of his wide, ceiling to floor windows, Erik realizes that London couldn’t make it home earlier like she promised. After their call ended, Erik decided to train so he could clear his head. He did his usual routine that involves jackknife crunches, crucifix push-ups, single leg burpees, jumping lunges, and other workouts. Then, Erik trained a little in combat; your fighting skills can always be improved. To end it, Erik let off a few rounds from his new Smith & Wesson pistol with a crimson trace sight. Erik walks down the modern stairs that ended within a corridor. He made his way towards the kitchen, turning on the lights and opening the fridge. Grabbing a box of leftover egg foo young, he places it within the microwave for 2 minutes. The front entrance to the penthouse opened and from the surveillance cameras in the kitchen Erik can see London removing her pumps before walking barefoot further into the penthouse. 

“Hey, baby,” her silvery voice soothed his ears, “I’m sorry I didn’t make it home earlier, today was yet another busy day...what are you heating in the microwave?” 

“It’s okay, I figured you were tied up,” Erik opens the microwave, grabbing the hot takeout container filled with shrimp egg foo young smothered in extra gravy, “Some Chinese I never ate yesterday, you wanna share?” 

“Yes,” London places her black Louis Vuitton tote bag on the galaxy storm granite countertop of their kitchen island before taking a seat on one of the stools. She finger combed her blunt cut bouncy copper hair away from her face while Erik grabbed two forks for them and after that two water bottles. He sat across from her before passing her a fork. London hissed from how hot the food was against her tongue before blowing it rapidly.

“Mmm...I haven’t had egg foo young in so long,” she licked her fork before going for more. 

“How was work?” Erik asks between chewing his food.

“It was alright, I’m exhausted,” London rubs her neck with her free hand, “How was your day?”

“Productive, did some training most of the time. I got an alert from my Oracle for a new job.” 

“...oh, yeah?” London swallows her food, hoping that her eyes didn’t read disappointment, “I figured it would be happening soon. When is it?”

“Within the next two weeks. It’s a big job so I gotta do some research over the next few days…” Erik reaches across the counter to rub London’s chin, “Hey...it’s two weeks from now. You got me for two weeks before I go away.”

London played with a piece of egg with her fork, “I know...I just get really lonely when you’re not with me, daddy.” 

“You sure about that? Still using the dildo I bought you?” Erik gave London a lopsided grin. 

“I am...but there’s nothing like daddy’s dick,” London laughs, before yawning, “I didn’t get any sleep last night.” 

“If you weren’t watching me take a shower and rub down with my body oil you would have,” Erik teased. 

“It’s your damn fault, you’re so sexy,” London strokes a single vein on Erik’s left hand with her pink and white ombré acrylic nail. 

“You know what I want, right?” Erik drags his tongue across the corner of the inside of his mouth to catch some food, causing a single dimple to form in his other cheek.

“Yes, let me shower first and I’m all yours,” London takes one final piece of egg foo young before grabbing her tote bag, walking around the kitchen counter to kiss Erik’s lips before walking away. Erik finished off the food before trashing it. He drank his water before tossing the bottle in recycling. Upstairs now, London is already out of the shower, her naked body seen walking into her walk-in closet to find something to sleep in. Erik brushes his teeth before joining her in the walk-in closet. London is wearing a sheer babydoll with berry-red trimming. 

“I got you something,” Erik says while walking up behind her. He picked it up in Miami for her. Reaching inside one of London’s many drawers, he pulls out a Cartier box. Erik presses his crotch against London’s curvy backside while leaning over her shoulder. London watches him open the box to reveal a stunning 18k white gold necklace with 264 brilliant cut diamonds. London’s topaz eyes locked with Erik’s onyx ones. They twinkled and it made him smile. He grabs the necklace, opening the clasp before placing it around her neck. London touches it with her delicate fingers. Erik’s thick lips lightly kiss the baby-soft skin of her cheek. 

“You look good in diamonds, girl,” He whispers to her before kissing along her neck, “icy just like your daddy.” 

“Thank you, daddy,” London fought for oxygen when Erik’s hands began to lift the bottom of her baby doll up. 

“Come sit on daddy’s face,” His nose was in her hair smelling the strands. Erik strolled back to the bedroom, laying back on the bed. London follows him, crawling onto the bed between his wide legs before climbing onto his lap to straddle him reverse cowgirl. Erik lifts the bottom of the baby doll completely up and around her waist to reveal her dangling fat pussy from behind. He takes his thumb to rub her protruding clit and labia that sat stunningly between her fat pussy lips. Lifting his thumb away, a slimy string of her fluids connected with it. Erik sucks it off before grabbing London by her thighs, roughly scooting her back towards him so that her pussy hovered over his lips. 

“Mmm, I miss this fat pussy,” Erik brings his lips to her pussy. He starts off by placing soft, lingering kisses that caused her to let out little gasps. Erik continues kissing her outer lips until her hips start oscillating back and forth. 

“Calm down, girl, daddy got you,” Erik spreads her pussy lips to reveal her cotton candy pink center, “had me wishing I could eat this pussy all day and I finally got it in my face,” Erik’s tongue poked out and he delivered stiff licks around her protruding clit. Erik could see her pussy contract with each lick and a single stream of slippery lubrication drip down to her labia. Erik dragged his thick bottom lip up to catch the fluid before sucking her labia into his mouth. His eyes closed one at a time after he got a taste of what he hadn’t tasted in two weeks. That sweet puss. 

“Yes, daddy,” London’s toes curled, “Fuck, baybeee.” 

Her drippy pussy was evidence that it missed his tongue among other things. 

“Sweet, tasty, pussy...sit on my face, London...THAT'S it…yeah, baby,” he groans, “Yummy pussy,” He sounded out longingly with a deep, alluring voice.

Erik loved spreading London’s lips with his tongue and tasting the warm sweet juices from her pussy. He loves when she puts her pussy on his face and rides his tongue. The loud smacking sounds from his slurping and licking mixed with London’s quickening breaths were sounds unheard of in two weeks. The way she was dripping in his mouth she was ready for his big black dick but all Erik wanted to do was eat. Both holes honestly. Erik wets a finger with his spit before sticking it in London’s tight, virgin booty hole. He was gonna get in that tight ass one day but for now he simply pushed his thick finger inside. It was so tight that it sucked his finger in. 

“Oooh, shit,” Erik says while watching his finger stroke London’s booty hole, “That ass is tighter than a motherfucker...you gon’ let me get in that ass?”

“I don’t know, daddy...fuck,” London looks back at Erik while he finger fucked her booty hole, “Damn, daddy, oh, my God…”

“I said, you gon’ let me get in that ass with this fat fucking dick?”

“Daddy it’s too big-

“If you’re used to this you’ll be used to my dick in no time, baby...taking that shit beautifully,” He wraps his lips around her clit and starts sucking. 

“Oh my God, daddy, that’s my spot,” London started speaking in tongues, “Yes, baby, suck on my pussy…”

Erik brings a finger from his other hand to slip inside of London’s pussy. The soft, fleshy ridges of her walls massaged his finger. He found her G spot and started massaging it with the pad of his finger. Erik started loudly sucking on London’s pussy and licking it sloppy with a lot of spit in between. Each time he licked London could feel his tongue print still lingering. 

“I’m gonna cum,” London says when she could feel her entire body spasm, “Daddy I’m cumming.” 

Erik continued sucking her clit, fingering her creamy pussy, and fingering her tight ass. He was working the hell out of her pussy that London almost collapsed. 

“You’re making my pussy cum,” Her voice grew louder, “Oh my God!!!!!” London started throwing her ass back, fucking Erik’s fingers before she started leaking all over his face. Her milky white orgasm covered his facial hair and lips. 

“Yes, daddy,” London became overstimulated and lifted her body from Erik’s. She fell back on the bed beside him, stroking her hair from her sweaty face. 

“I’m not finished...you said I could have it all I want, right?” Erik spreads London’s thighs before leaning over her body with a hankering desire. His tongue wiggles all over her pussy with exhilarating speed that strokes her clit in the right spot. London’s hips began to lift off of the bed but Erik held her in place. After licking it a few more times he went right back to slurping her up but this time he did it with fervor. Each suck came with a deep grunt. He was enjoying the hell out of her pussy on his mouth. He had London screaming his name. Erik was telling her through every suck and lick that this was his pussy and that she better cum in his fucking mouth. 

“Unnffttt!!!!!” London moaned out repeatedly. She yanked Erik’s tapered dreads, “eat this fucking pussy,” London rolled her hips, driving her pussy in Erik’s mouth, “yesssss ima cum in your mouth so fucking hard keep doing that.” 

Erik started sucking on London’s clit while swiveling his head back and forth. He was loving that pussy. 

“Suck on my pussy...suck on my pussy...sucking on my pussy…” London’s mouth unhinges, “Oh, yes, right there, ooooohh, DON'T stop...Yep...right there, daddy, uh-huh...uh-huh...uh-huh...FUCK YES...you’re making your pussy cum...FUCK!”

London fisted Erik’s hair as she climaxed in his mouth. 

___________________

The next day, London awoke to the sound of her alarm at 7:00 AM. She turned it off, sitting up in bed. Blinking her tired eyes, London rubbed her inner thighs together, feeling her pussy juices gathering in a puddle. She’s still wet from the repeated head she received from Erik last night. He ate her pussy three times before she fell asleep next to him then he woke her up at 2:00 AM with her clit in his mouth again. Spreading her thighs, London could see that her clit is still stiff and her inner folds are still engorged with arousal. The bed shifted behind her and London turned to find Erik stretching his built arms above his head. He blinked at her with low eyes before giving her a lazy smile.

“Good morning, baby,” Erik spoke before yawning, “You’re leaving me again, Princess?” 

“Duty calls,” London stood from the bed giving Erik a tantalizing view of her slim-thick frame. She leaned over the bed to kiss Erik nice and gentle, “I’ll miss you.” 

“Stay home,” Erik looked up at her through his long lashes, “We got some making up to do, girl...I ain’t have that puss in two weeks...we got some making up to do.” 

“I know, I know,” London was pulled down into the bed with Erik, “Daddy-

“Hush, Princess,” Erik’s hand made its way between her thighs, “That fat puss is still wet.” 

“Umph,” London shielded her face in Erik’s neck. 

“Nah, look at what I’m doing...London,” Erik yanked her hair, forcing her to focus on him, “LOOK.” 

Her eyes widened at his barbaric tone. The rough edge made her shiver. London’s eyes watched as Erik used two fingers to rub her clit side to side. 

“Mhm, I got that puss,” He bites her jaw, causing her to squeal, “Damn, that clit stiff...you going to work and leaving daddy home to take care of this fat ass dick by himself? Hmm?”

“Erik,” She could feel herself leaking all over his hand, “Daddy stop...I gotta go to work...fuck,” Erik pushed three fingers inside of her, “Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.” 

“Princess, I plan on hitting this pussy from every angle imaginable,” Erik whispered to her before giving her sloppy kisses on her neck, “cum on my fingers, girl, you know you want to.” 

“Umph, Yes-

“I see you girl…FUCK,” Erik aggressively bites his bottom lip while he watched London cream his fingers, “Thats a good pussy, baby...such a good girl,” Erik’s fingers slip out to smack her pussy. London jumps from his lap while squeezing her thighs tight. 

“I’m gonna go take a sh-shower,” London lets out an unsteady breath while watching Erik suck her juices from his fingers. 

“Go ahead, Princess, I’ll see you in there.” 

London grabs her silk bonnet and shower cap before walking into the master bathroom. With her out of the room now, Erik grabs his cell to call London’s job. On the third ring, the receptionist picks up. 

“Thanks for calling, CSOC, this is Taylor Bianchi, how can I direct you?” 

“Hi, can I speak to Linda Yeager, please? This is Erik Stevens, a long time client of CSOC.” His eyes fall on London lathering up her soap sponge with her body wash. 

“Okay, I’ll transfer your call.”

The line clicks over and there is a brief pause before Erik could hear the phone being picked up and Linda clearing her throat. 

“Erik! How are you? Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, everything is fine...I’m calling about London...listen, I’m requesting that she has a few days off. She’s exhausted and London needs to rest her mind and her body. With her being Lead Analyst now it’s taken a heavy load on her.”

“I understand,” Linda sighs, “I wish she would have told me she needs time off, it’s never a problem. Of course, London can take however long she needs.” 

“Thank you, Linda, I’ll let her know her vacation starts today.” Erik hangs up his cell before tossing the silk duvet back. He takes off his black joggers before walking naked to the bathroom. London has just finished washing herself a second time and now she is rinsing off. Erik opens the glass shower door, stepping inside the steamy shower, “Finished without me?” 

“Sorry, baby, I have to go to work, I’m already gonna be late.”

“Nah,” Erik closes the shower door, “I called your job, you won’t be going to work for the rest of the week.” 

“Huh?” London says with a perplexed expression.

“I requested for you to be off. Linda said it was okay.” 

“Babe…” London blushes, “You did that for me?”

“You know I got you, Princess. We can use all this time to fuck as much as we want...and I’m gonna fuck you good,” Erik approaches her with a gait that had her week in the knees.

“Okay...it’s been a minute…” London was backed into a corner, “All I’ve known is my vibe and dildo…”

“Aww, I know,” Erik takes his thumbs to twirl her pierced nipples, “That’s why I gotta remind you how daddy does it...dig that pussy out.” 

Erik snatches London’s bonnet and shower cap from her head before picking her up, walking with her until their bodies are beneath the squared shower head. Erik’s long dick began to thicken up beneath her pussy. He stuck his tongue down her throat, kissing her roughly while gripping her ass. London braced herself by wrapping her arms around Erik’s shoulders. From her lips, Erik’s kisses were on her neck now right along with his teeth leaving marks. He was so hungry for her, not even a grizzly bear could stop him from getting all of London. 

“You want daddy to fuck you in this shower?” Erik sucked on her bottom lip. 

“Please, daddy, can you fuck me in the shower?”

“You know how to ask daddy for what you want...good girl,” Erik used a little force to push London’s back against the shower wall. She sucked in a sharp breath, before raising a single brow at him. He was being rough with her. 

“Being rough with me, daddy?” She questioned sweetly because she knew that drove him crazy, “It’s okay…I know you need this pussy.” 

“You’re fucking right,” Erik growled before his mouth made its way to her erect pierced nipples, “This pussy hasn’t stained my dick in two fucking weeks...that’s way too long for me, girl...you know daddy gotta have this pussy any fucking chance I get,” With one hand, Erik places it around London’s neck, “those eyes are so sexy, baby...you better look at me just like that when I fuck this pussy,” Erik grinds his dick up against London’s pussy, “and when I cum on that pretty face.” 

“Anything, daddy, just fuck me,” London tried grabbing his dick but Erik’s hand around her neck grew tighter.

“Is that how you ask for this fucking dick? Try again,” Erik spoke through clenched teeth. 

“Can daddy fuck my little pussy, please?” London asked with a pout of her lips. 

Erik smiles devilishly, “Yeah...daddy can fuck that little Princess pussy.” 

With short, heated gasps, London watched Erik grab hold of his dick with the hand that was around her neck, rubbing it back and forth over her clit. It didn’t matter how much water covered their bodies from head to toe, London’s pussy is still drenched with her slickness. Erik strokes his dick against London’s entrance before pushing in just the tip, purposely stopping so he could watch the helpless expression on her face. 

“Yeah,” he spoke smugly, “And that’s just the tip, baby,” Erik pushes in some more with just his hips, “Damn...clenching up already? You know how this dick can be,” Erik continues without stopping this time before licking away a single tear from her face, “you know daddy gets in there, ma...this shit ain’t new.” 

“Damn,” London hisses, “You got my pussy opened up, daddy.”

“And you got my dick tickling your cervix,” Erik pulls all the way to his wide tip before pushing back inside deeply, “Like how I pull it all the way out? Huh?”

London could only nod her head.

“I asked you a fucking question, Princess,” Erik does it again. His thick, long, curved dick pushed back inside. London’s pussy is so warm and wet that it made his ass cheeks clench. 

“What the fuck did I say?” He barked out.

“If I like the way you pull it all the way out,” London’s lower lip trembled between moans. 

“Pull what out?” He asked her with narrow eyes.

“This big ass dick,” London’s head extended back, “This shit is hitting the bottom of my pussy.”

“Mhm,” Erik angles London’s hips with both of his strong hands, “That’s what the fuck I’m talking about,” He picks up speed, London’s hips loudly smacking against his, “This what you kept from me?” 

“Yes!!” London’s eyes never left his, “God...you’re stretching me.”

Their tongues flicked wildly before Erik pressed his forehead against hers. He was still watching her, his hands moving her hips in a circle while he stroked her pussy long dick style. 

“Unfff, if you keep doing that- daddy, shit,” London pouts, “Daddy it’s deep.” 

Erik wasn’t listening, he was too busy moving her hips in a multitude of angels just so his dick could reach every single part of her pussy from her walls, to her cervix, to her G spot, and then her A spot. Warm, liquid leaked from her pussy and it made Erik smile handsomely at her. 

“I got this fat pussy squirting,” Erik starts banging London’s pussy out harder, “Ima make you do that shit again...UH-HUH…nut on this fucking dick.” 

With a silent scream and her feet nudging against Erik’s back from his forceful thrusts, London gave him exactly what he wanted. Erik’s dick left her pussy and he put her down. London has to brace the wall because her knees are wobbling.

“Get down on your knees and clean this daddy dick off.” 

London was on her knees, grabbing Erik’s balls with one hand while wrapping her plump lips around the tip of his dick with just the power of her jaw muscles. 

“You better suck it good too or I’ma tear that throat up,” Erik bites his bottom lip down at London. He runs his fingers through her loose curly strands, “feeding my pretty baby some dick...see? You needed that, right?”

“Mhm,” London hums whole slurping on Erik’s dick. She had to work extra hard since his dick hadn’t been in her mouth for two weeks. She worked her jaws overtime and her head moved in a circular motion. 

“You’re such a good girl,” Erik licks his lips before leaning over, spitting on his dick. He watched London lick and suck his saliva into her mouth. 

“You sucking this dick, girl, mm,” Erik shakes his head, “You want me to unload down your throat?”

London responded with puppy dog eyes and a harder suck. Erik thrusts his hips forward suddenly, causing London to gag. She removed her mouth from his dick to take a breath but Erik grabs a fist full of her wet hair, making her look at him, “Did I tell you to stop?! You know this dick is long, girl,” Erik slapped his dick against her cheek, “Open your fucking mouth, Princess.”

London opens wide and Erik didn’t waste anytime getting back inside. His head went back while he uses London’s mouth like a pussy and started fucking her throat. London’s nails clawed his thighs. 

“Told you I had something for little ass girls like you who keep running from dick...don’t stop eating that dick up, Princess.” 

“Mmm...mmmhmm,” London blinked away her growing tears, striving to finish until his cum was down her throat. 

“I need it nice and sloppy like this. Make a mess like the good girl you are. You look so sexy when you get nasty,” Erik says between London’s sucking, “Yes baby...mmmh...fuuuckkk...make it nasty, baby, that’s it,” Erik’s face fixed into a mug, “Ughhhhhh fuuuckkkkkk, don’t ever stop sucking baby girl, make daddy bust a nut...ughhhhhhh…yes, empty me...mmmm...here it comes baby... getting the job done just drain your daddy and you never have to worry about anything...FUCK YES,” Erik’s entire body spasmed out of control. He gripped the back of London’s head before erupting deep down her throat. London welcomes her gift graciously with a flickering tongue. It was a lot of cum, definitely overdue. 

“Good girl,” Erik says between ragged gasps. 

___________________

After their shower, London and Erik had a nice breakfast that Erik prepared. Veggie omelette, turkey sausage, and a side of shrimp with cheesy grits. London did a bit of yoga, something she hadn’t done in a long while. Erik cleaned up before joining London in their personal gym for a morning workout. Erik couldn’t keep his eyes off of London stretching her body. After taking yet another long shower, London and Erik lounged around well into the early afternoon in complete nudity. Erik was supposed to start his research for his new mission but that wasn’t going to happen with the way London’s nude body was calling him. They were sitting in the living room, laid back on their luxury leather sectional sofa, music playing from the installed surround sound system. 

London couldn’t keep her eyes off of Erik’s dick sitting heavy between his toned thighs. Unable to control the urge to slurp his thick pipe into her mouth, London leans over Erik’s lap, grabbing his dick in her hand, slapping it against her tongue, and then all in one motion, his dick was back in her mouth. London arched her back, her ass sitting high in the air now for Erik to reach over and slap whenever he felt like it. She massaged his nut sack while swallowing her man’s fat dick. He loved to see her with a mouth full of his meat. All he could do was simply shake his head at her. Before he needed to remind her, London’s topaz eyes connected with his and that’s when his dick swelled to cum inspiring proportions in her throat and unloaded a fat nut that she worked for. 

“There you go,” Erik studied the way his balls tightened, “Got my nuts tight, girl, get up here.” 

London climbed into Erik’s lap, squatting over him while bracing herself on the back of the couch. 

“Nah, fuck that, grab daddy’s dick and put it in that sweet little pussy so I can fuck the shit out of you.” 

London reaches between her legs, grabs Erik’s dick, and lines it up with her snug entrance. She gyrated her hips over him before lowering herself onto his third leg. 

“Mmmm,” She locked eyes with him, “Big-ass-dick.” She tells him, even though he already knew that. 

“Tight-ass-pussy,” Erik’s thick lips practically swallowed London's, the more he devoured her with his kisses. His saliva laden tongue battled for dominance in her mouth the more he kissed. London was like putty in his arms. London didn’t see it coming when Erik’s hips elevated from the couch to fuck her. His balls slapped her on the ass with each heavy, gut-filling stroke. Her thighs shook and her toes were beginning to sweat from the hot leather. 

“Oh, shit,” Her lower abdomen clenched, “It’s deep…”

“Move your hands,” Erik ordered when London’s hands came down to press against his thighs to try and slow him up, “Move your fucking hands, London.”

“Daddy, nooooo,” She whimpered.

“Shut that shit up,” He wrenched her hands away from his thighs, “grip my shoulders...that’s it, girl,” Erik went back to fucking the shit out of her wet pussy, “I got this pussy gushing all over me and you want me to stop? You better take this big black dick...all I wanna hear is you moaning and saying how much you love daddy’s big dick, nothing else,” Erik tore his eyes away for a second so he could watch her cream his dick, “I’m beating this pussy up...shut that crying up, London.” 

“Yessssss,” London chokes up, “Daddy, pleaseeee-

“Please? Please what?” Erik wrapped his arms around London’s body, holding her in place so he could work her pussy some more, “Please what? Huh?!”

“YES!!” London buried her face in the crook of Erik’s neck. She could feel a warm sensation overpower her body and then she froze. Erik’s dick was covered in her cream all the way down to his balls. 

“Just making a mess on me, huh?” Erik sucks on London’s neck, “Daddy likes that shit...come here,” Erik lifts her from his lap. He stood up with his dick dripping cum, turning London over and arching her back. 

“Mm-mm, keep that arch,” Erik strokes his messy pipe, “Push them shoulders down...good girl,” Erik slaps London’s clit a few times before he enters her with a long exhale, “Good fucking pussy...pass me my phone.” Erik barked out. London grabs Erik’s phone from her left before passing it to Erik, “You remember how we used to do it?” Erik opens up his camera, aiming it at London’s ass, “Bring that ass up, London, I’m not gonna tell you again.”

London was holding off on purpose because she knew how deep he can get in this position. 

“How is daddy supposed to beat this pussy the fuck up if you don’t listen?” Erik pumped London’s pussy full of his fat dick with just his hips while holding the phone steady so he can capture it perfectly, “Wait until you see this shit, ummmmm, baby...widen your legs London,” Erik pushes himself in all the way, causing London to cry out, “It’s okay, Princess, here,” He did it again, “beat this pussy up…look at me.”

London looks back at Erik through her messy hair. She wished she hadn’t. Just one look at him had her squirting on his dick.

“You make that shit look so damn good...I’m spreading that pussy, baby?” 

“Uh-huh-

“What else is daddy doing?” Erik smiles.

“Making my pussy feel good,” London smiles back before her face frowned with ecstasy. 

“That’s the face I like to see...you got my dick pulsating in this pussy...got this good dick up in you all you can do is cum...I like that...too big, baby?” 

She couldn’t respond but HELL YEAH. His dick damn near pushed her stomach out of her mouth in this position. 

“Daddy…” London said so low. 

“What?!” Erik asked while hammering London’s pussy. He angled the phone so that the length of his defined body could be in view while he stroked her. London’s cheeks clapped loudly and her moans damn near blew out the speakers of his phone, “this is mine and ima remind you any and everywhere,” London gripped his dick with her walls, “yeahhhhh, make daddy bust a nut!!!”

“Fuck me!!” London grabbed the back of the couch, “beat it up, daddy!!”

“Fuck,” Erik had to drop the phone. He was about to cream all in London’s sweet, tight pussy, “Look at this arch, girl, damn...you want me to really get in this puss.” 

Erik’s mouth unhinges and his eyelids flutter. He gave London two deep, long, and filling thrusts before cumming deep inside of her. Erik slapped her ass hard a few times before pulling his dick from her pussy. 

“Come suck this big dick up,” Erik said between heavy breathing. London was on her knees in a flash, grabbing Erik’s dick up in her hand before licking their mess off. Erik twirled London’s pierced nipple with one hand. He was thickening up again and all he wanted to do was bury himself back inside her tight, creamy pussy some more. 

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold @njadakillthiscookie @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @dababydababydababydababy @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaa @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @palmstreesallday @skylahb @bakaris-shorty-deactivated20200 @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @theegoldenchild @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @nickidub718 @vikkidc @thehomierobbstark  @abluesforlyssa @abeautifulmindexposed @fd-writes @chasingsunlight @sickaddiktions @munteanhore @xo-goldengirl @tiava143 @33kiara @honeytoffee @asiasblackworld727 @momobaby227 @informalmelancholy @soulshinechronicles @hearteyes-for-killmonger @goddessofthundathighs @soulfxll @whazzzupmyhitta @seyven89 @lahuttor @janelledarling @shewritestheblues @fanfangal @kreolemami @thoughtsoftheantagonist @luvwitoutlimit1 @mygirlrenee @hippiesandpeacesigns @alittlejd @jaysaidhi @thewaysheis--awkward @walkrightuptothesun @shawnstacksss @theesotericqueen @mareethequeen @browngirldominion @ceeverse @therealmrsrhodes @sensitivelegend @teheeboo @yomiloo @msreshel-blog @bbygirrll05 @fahi0nanart @afteracouplepuffss @shaelyn102 @yaminax-kuss-a @lackbbaby @amyhennessyhouse @thattruckinwitch @dameshaemonique  @glittermakesmesmile @justgetitoverwith0  @notavintagecliche @pariahcolored @cydneyrenee4 @ajjiiaaahhhh @naeelyniecee @ambthegamer @efonteno @mikesteel20 @wisenerdcreator @draggingstxns @eevolsidog @xoxomyaah @asweet-serendipity​ @therealmrsmbjordan @ajspencer1892​ @queengodiva619 @niqui87​ @quietpoeticheart​ @itsjustyazz​ @dasia21​ @woah-express​ @bbgiirrll​ @backandbetter2​ @megabriahall @forbeautyandlife​ @queenflaws​ @cecereads209​ @queenbetter​ @yomiloo​ @daddys-baby-girl-t​ @lovinthemelanin​ @ladymac82​ @ambitionwood @t3mporaa​ @toniilaney​ @iv0rysoap​ @sinfully-dope​ @lovehatecritique​ @chocolategirl605​ @naysianaee​ @nyleveeee​ @erlebnissebliss​ @melinaasap1​ @woahthatshitfat​ @that-chick212​ @scarypumkin23​ @sambuckyslayallday​ @vikki240401​ @kuaua98 @enigmadivine​ @gingerylimonte​ @counterfeit-recherche​ @unholyxcumbucket​ @xdezaraex​ @missgigglesmoultrie​ @imrootingforeveryoneblack @dashhoney25​

[ashbrea381writings]

Red-Eye to Destiny: Chapter 3, Meeting the Family

Damian frowned nervously as he drove to pick up Marinette and Luka. There had been so many questions from his siblings when he’d told them he would be picking up two dinner guests. 

“Wait, Demon Spawn has friends and he actually WANTS them to come to dinner?” Todd had laughed. “Alfred, I changed my mind, I’m staying for dinner after all!” He called as he walked back to the den for a drink. “I’ve gotta see this!”

“Jason, behave.” Bruce sighed, looking towards the ceiling in frustration. “Damian, are you sure you don’t want to wait until it’s a little quieter around here? We don’t want them to be uncomfortable.”

“I do not believe that will be necessary, Father, they can more than handle it.” Damian had reassured Bruce, but as he drove away, the worry started. They were civilians, and his family wasn’t always good at hiding that they definitely WEREN’T civilians.

Arriving at the address they’d given him, Damian got out of the car to knock. “Dami!” Marinette exclaimed excitedly, opening the door before he’d gotten further than the porch steps. “Come in a minute, we’re almost ready.”

“Hello Marinette.” Damian had gone stiff with nerves and his mind was reeling.

“Damian? Are you alright?” Luka asked from where he was lacing his boots up. “I can feel how tense you are from here.”

“I would like to give you a small warning about my family.” Damian forced himself to say. “All of them are going to be there and they are an odd bunch. I don’t want you to be alarmed if they say something strange.”

“Damian, we’re from Paris, we can handle strange.” Marinette laughed, putting a hand on his arm and squeezing gently. “I can promise that there is nothing, short of them being cannibals or something, that would scare us off. Even if they did, we’d just take you with us.”

“You keep saying that… That you have seen strange things because you are from Paris, but what do you mean by that?” Damian asked, using the question to ground himself in the present.

“You didn’t hear? I thought the Mayor made a public announcement after everything was over?” Marinette frowned before shrugging. “We had our own supervillain for… What, four years?”

“Nearly five before they finally caught him.” Luka corrected, standing and moving to Damian’s other side. “His name was Hawkmoth, Ladybug and her team didn’t announce who he was, just that they’d captured him and his accomplice and that they would be facing consequences fitting to their crimes.”

“At the same press conference that they announced that, Chat Noir -Ladybug’s partner- announced that he would be retiring from being a hero, but that he’d return if asked by Ladybug.” Marinette added carefully.

Damian could feel that they were keeping their emotions carefully modulated, but he couldn’t figure out why. “What did this Hawkmoth do?”

“He would use the power of an ancient magic artifact to take advantage of people when they were feeling negative emotions. He would promise they could get what they desired; the person who rejected them, revenge for some slight, the position they felt was rightfully theirs, that sort of thing. But they were just more of his victims who he used to make more victims.” Marinette sighed. “The only reason that we all survived was because Ladybug was able to reverse any damage done during Akuma attacks.”

Damian looked between his two soulmates, considering the sad but proud look Luka was giving Marinette and the pained look and emotions he saw and felt from Marinette. The same kind of pain when he wasn’t able to save someone. “You two were heroes, weren’t you?” He asked quietly, grabbing each of their hands.

Both were shocked and they exchanged a look before Marinette sighed, “I guess we wouldn’t have been able to hide it from you for long.”

“You know what? I think you will handle my family just fine.” Damian chuckled slightly. “And I cannot wait to see their faces. I won’t tell them, but they might figure it out if you tell them about Paris.”

“Well, shall we make a game of it?” Marinette was full of mischief at this point. “Or perhaps… A bet?”

***

Marinette felt a poke in her pocket, and put a hand there, feeling another on her finger. “Just a minute, I’ll be right back.” She smiled at the boys as she walked towards the bathroom. “What’s up, Plagg?”

“That’s my kitten!” He said excitedly, “I wanna tell him!”

Marinette had never seen him so excited, how could she say no? “Alright, let me break the first part of things, I’ll call you to come out, okay?” Plagg grinned and darted back into her skirt pocket, where she could feel him vibrating with pent-up energy.

Amused beyond belief, she focused her thoughts to just Luka, ‘We’re introducing the Kwami’s.’ At his confirmation, she left the bathroom and wandered over to her boys. “Why don’t we sit down for a couple minutes, we can blame it on traffic or something.” She pointed to the couch, sitting in an armchair.

“What do you mean?” Damian frowned, his confusion obvious to them despite his carefully neutral expression.

“It’s about what you figured out. Us being heroes in Paris.” Luka smiled gently, taking Damian’s hand and pulling him towards the couch. “You weren’t 100% right, but you weren’t wrong either.”

“While Chat did retire, we didn’t entirely.” Marinette began. “That magical artifact that we told you Hawkmoth used? Well, we had them too, just with different powers.”

Luka held out his wrist and pointed to his bracelet. “We still use them on occasion, mostly so we don’t get rusty.”

“So… You guys still run around in costume?” Damian wasn’t sure how to react without giving away his family’s secret.

“Yes. Chat returned his miraculous to me when he retired. I could technically call him back and ask him to take up either the same mantel or a different one, we have a number of them, not just the three. We have the one Hawkmoth used, and his accomplice Mayura. But that’s not even the whole story.” Marinette chuckled. “You see, each one is a Miraculous, that’s the name for them, and each one comes with something else. Tikki, Sass, come out please.”

“These are our Kwami’s.” Luka held his hand out and Sass landed on it, “This is Sass, he’s with the Snake Miraculous. I get the power of Second Chance and can turn back time as many times as I need to within a span of five minutes from the time I set it.”

“And this is Tikki, she is with the Ladybug Miraculous. I can summon an item to help me in battle and return it to fix the damage done in battle if the battle was against another Miraculous. I don’t know if the magic works outside of that, I haven’t tried.”

“Why tell me this now? Why so soon after we met?” Damian stood, walking to the window to look out. His mind was buzzing with information and the knowledge that they somehow trusted him completely already.

“Damian, you’re our soulmate, you were never going to be kept in the dark for long. Besides, there’s someone who wants to meet you.” Marinette said gently, her mind sending soothing thoughts. “Plagg, be gentle, don’t freak him out more than he already is.”

Another Kwami comes out from behind Marinette, floating over to him and settling on the window sill. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you.”

Damian can feel the utter shock of his soulmates, but can’t for the life of him look away from the little black cat in front of him. “Hello.”

“The thing is, some people are more suited to certain Miraculi than others. I’m a nearly-perfect Creation soul with just enough of other things that I can wield other Miraculi with ease, and that was before I ever touched a Miraculous. Luka has the Snake because he’s most suited to its power, and no matter how much I platonically love Chat, and appreciate him for being a good partner, he just wasn’t that well suited to the cat, but we had to have both for us to balance each other.” She explained coming up behind Damian and taking his hand. “Plagg sensed you after we got home, he could tell we’d met you. He said you’re the one most suited to his Miraculous.”

In Marinette’s other hand was a silver ring. “You don’t have to answer right now, but we wanted you to know.” Luka went to the other side of Damian, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. I’m not as unfamiliar with this sort of thing as you think.” Damian took a deep breath, “But that isn’t my story to tell. Thank you for trusting me, both of you. Why don’t you guys hold onto Plagg for now, let me get to know both of you and him for a while before we make any decisions?”

“I can live with that, but only if you promise to visit me!” Plagg announced, flying up to be on-level with Damian’s face, prompting a small smile from him.

“Of course.”

***

The drive to the Manor was quiet, but peaceful. Plagg was back in Marinette’s pocket, as well as Tikki and Sass in their respective hiding places. ‘Why did you discovering that we used to be and kinda still are heroes mean we can handle your family?’ Marinette asked silently, not wanting to disturb the quiet in the car.

‘I’m sure you’ve dealt with your fair share of chaos, and while they’re rowdy and will absolutely be in our business, at least you know they won’t be as bad as some of the villains you’ve dealt with.’ Damian was amused, and his fondness for his family despite his protests shone through the bond.

‘Well, we’ll just have to see who we break first.’ Luka smirked, his rarely seen mischievous side showing a little bit.

‘Break? Are you planning to try and traumatize my family?’ Damian sounded more amused than concerned.

‘If you feel that it takes superheroes to handle them, then we should make sure they can handle us too.’ Marinette giggled quietly, showing Damian that she planned to surprise them.

“This will be fun.” Damian finally said out loud. “I’ll give each of you points based on their reactions.”

“Will we be telling them or let them figure it out?” Luka asked as they drove through the gates of Wayne Manor.

“Let’s see how smart they are.” Damian smirked, taking it slow up the long driveway. “But let’s not sabotage each other like I’ve seen the two of you do.”

Both Parisians blushed and grinned. ‘Where’s the fun in not teasing each other?’ They asked simultaneously.

‘I am so screwed.’ Damian sighed and shook his head, using a phrase he heard from his brothers a number of times. ‘Just, let’s keep the game up as long as possible? We want to see how long it takes them to figure everything out, not give it away because we are being competitive.’

They agree silently and when Damian parks, Luka gets Marinette’s door for her before they walk in. Everyone was there, and the moment they walked in Bruce greeted them with a wave and brief smile on his way to the den. “So, you’ve already met Father, Todd is by the mini bar, Grayson is bouncing over like the nitwit he is.” Damian paused as Marinette giggled a bit at his description. “Cain is on that armchair there, Brown and Drake are on the sofa, and I don’t see Gordon here, but she might be busy.”

“Given what happened at the Gala, I’m going to assume those are your last names?” Marinette asked dryly. When half the room gave a sigh she giggled a bit more and nodded. “Good thing we never told him ours then.”

They went around the room giving first names and Dick stood a little closer than he needed to while looking at them very intently. “Where do I know you two from?”

“Well, we work with Jagged. Luka is in the band with him and I do design for both of them. We’ve been on tour for months, so it’ll be nice to put down some roots here in Gotham again.” Marinette explained.

“Wait. YOU’RE his designer?” Tim sputtered, sitting ramrod straight. “You’re the designer that Jagged works with exclusively, that’s also done work for Clara Nightingale and publicly schooled Gabriel Agrest right before he left the business?”

Marinette and Luka both stiffened when Gabriel’s name was said, and Damian could feel the carefully covered anger before they both smothered it. “Yeah, that’s me.” Marinette’s answer was stiff and brisk, causing everyone in the room to look at her strangely. “Sorry, there’s a reason I was as harsh as I was on Gabriel. I went to school with his son and I cannot say I liked the way Gabriel behaved. He is a rather cold man and I was glad to see Adrien gain a bit more freedom when his father stepped down.”

‘That’s not the full story, but I’ll ask later.’ Damian pointed out silently, feeling them acknowledge the request.

“Dinner is ready.” Alfred called, waiting for them to all go into the formal dining room. Damian ended up at the rear of everyone as he let his soulmates go ahead of him, and was stopped for a moment at the door. “I approve, very much.” Alfred whispered, a small smile gracing his lips.

Damian returned the small smile before schooling his expression and walking to his place on the left side of Luka. ‘Pennyworth already figured it out, but I believe he knew from our meeting at the airport.’

‘Well, he’s more observant than the rest of them then.’ Marinette internally rolled her eyes at the way the others were bickering now that they were all sitting at the table.

“How are you two getting along in Gotham? It can be a little unnerving for new people.” Dick asked, leaning his forearms on the edge of the table. “Are you staying safe?”

“We keep our heads in an emergency.” Marinette nodded, “And we’ve been staying in Gotham off and on for a year or two now, we’re just away pretty frequently because Jagged has been on tour so much lately. Besides, we lived in Paris the whole, what four? Five? Or so years that Hawkmoth was active, so… Yeah, we can handle ourselves.”

“Remember, Mari, we had heroes with magic to fix everything up after the fights, they don’t have that here.” Luka reminded her gently.

“Well yes, but I didn’t have very many times where I got incapacitated in an attack, and I know you had less than most people.” Marinette pointed out, her accent getting heavier.

“Perhaps this is not the time to discuss such things without explaining what you mean?” Damian dryly commented, sweeping a hand out to show the confused faces around the table. “I know we talked about this in the car, but the others here were not part of that conversation.”

“Right… Merde, I don’t know how you guys never heard about Hawkmoth.” Marinette sighed and shook her head.

“Who is this person? A villain?” Tim asked, his voice an intriguing combination of tired and curious.

“Well yes, he wielded a magical artifact called a Miraculous and used it to turn normal people into villains to do his bidding. He chose people who were experiencing a negative emotion, and used his power to corrupt them into villains he could control to get what he wanted.” Marinette explained.

“What did he want?” Jason asked, frowning and crossing his arms.

“Well, the Akuma Victims kept yelling about the Miraculi that Ladybug and Chat Noir used to stop him, so I’m assuming that’s what he was after. There was a lot of collateral damage pretty frequently.” Luka shuddered, Syren flashing through his mind. His family had been spared since they had just unmoored the boat, but seeing all those bodies of people who didn’t get to high ground in time.

That image floated into Mari’s and Damian’s minds, Mari had to blink back tears, recognizing some of the bodies from Luka’s memory. Damian stiffened, and looked at them in concern.

“Collateral damage?” Dick asked quietly, “What sort of collateral damage?”

“Every kind you can think of, really.” Marinette sighed, focusing on warm and  happy thoughts to cheer up her boys. “Deaths, injuries, destruction of property. It was pretty brutal.” She nudged the boys mentally to make sure they were okay. “Thankfully, Ladybug was able to reverse all the damage caused by Akuma battles. Her Cure reversed everything to how it was right before the attack. People, buildings, everything.”

“How did nobody know about this? How did the League not interfere?” Bruce asked, his spine straight and shoulders tense.

“I don’t know, it always seemed like anytime anyone not from Paris left Paris, they would forget about it. The news media within Paris covered it, but it’s almost like nobody paid it any mind from outside of Paris.” Marinette shrugged. “And Ladybug fixed everything, so people would probably think it was a hoax unless they were caught up in an attack and saw it first hand.”

“And now? What happened to all that?” Steph prompted, leaning forward to see them.

“Ladybug and her team defeated Hawkmoth about two and a half years ago. They didn’t reveal who he was, but they said that they were having him punished appropriately and that he would never be a problem again.” Luka informed the room. “And then they said that Chat was retiring unless Ladybug needs him to return, the other heroes were either going back to civilian life or would be on standby, and Ladybug said she’d be around but keeping to herself for the most part.”

They spent the next hour or so eating dinner and sharing stories from different villain fights, both in Gotham and Paris. Damian’s sense of horror grew as he realized how much responsibility was on Marinette’s shoulders the whole time. He did the math and realized that she was 14 when she received her Miraculous, and from what they’d implied earlier, their mentor hadn’t been around much.

‘Damian, breathe, it’s been over for a couple years now, we’re both fine and well-adjusted. You don’t have to panic.’ Luka’s gentle voice whispered in his mind, and he felt like he was being cradled in warmth for a brief moment as Marinette shared a memory of a warm, secure hug to try and calm him.

‘I’m alright now, thank you.’ He responded quietly, still processing but from the perspective of the fact that it was long since over before he even met them.

Just then, Marinette’s phone began to ring. “Oh! I wasn’t expecting…” She trailed off when she saw the caller ID. “I’ll be right back.” She stood and walked towards the den where they’d been before dinner, using the bond as she went to tell the boys, ‘It’s Adrien.’

‘Tell him hello from me, I hope everything’s okay.’ Luka responded, frowning in concern.

“Does she get phone calls like that a lot? Where she storms out to take it?” Jason asked lazily, leaning back in his chair and tipping it onto the back legs.

“The only person she leaves the room like that for is Adrien.” Luka sighed. “We both worry about him given his Father’s behavior when we were younger, and given that it’s… Nearly 9pm where he is and he gets up super early, it’s rather odd that he would call without texting first.” Luka checked the time on his phone and sighed. “Adrien is sort of like a little brother to us both, despite being the same age as Mari and only a little younger than me. We worry about him and check in frequently, but it’s usually at scheduled times or with a text beforehand.”

Both Luka and Damian felt a shock of excitement flash through their bond with Marinette. Exchanging a look with Damian, Luka stood carefully. “I’m going to check on her.”

In the den, Luka found Marinette rapidly gushing in French over the phone at Adrien, who he could hear laughing and trying to calm her down. “Mari? What has you in such high spirits, Melody?” He asked, grinning as he couldn’t contain the happiness that Mari was putting out.

“Adrien said that he and his mom are in Metropolis and he found his soulmate!” She giggled, “He forgot to text ahead because he’s just so excited and wants to meet up sometime soon!”

“Alright, congratulations, Adrien, I’d be happy for us to all meet up, but Melody, we left an entire room full of people we were talking with in suspense.” Luka chuckled and spoke just loud enough for Adrien to hear him.

“Sorry for the interruption! I’ll text you guys with the details!” Adrien laughed and hung up without saying goodbye.

“Come on, Melody, let’s get back to dinner.”

***

Damian felt his phone buzz incessantly, but refused to check it, instead finishing dinner with his soulmates and family, waiting for them to figure out the truth. ‘How long will we leave them in suspense before telling the truth?’ He asked as they moved back to the den for coffee.

‘We could just sit on either side of you and see if that’s a big enough hint?’ Mari had gotten a bit exasperated with how oblivious the family was. ‘Honestly, they aren’t very observant, are they?’

‘About each other within the family? Not at all. With people outside of this house? Ridiculously so. Which is what makes this so interesting.’ Damian smirked a bit and crossed his arms, sitting on one of the sofas instead of his usual armchair.

Marinette and Luka sat on either side of him perfectly in sync, as though they’d practiced it. There were a few moments of silence before Jason started laughing, “I knew it!!!” He doubled over laughing, not even hearing the confusion and queries of his family.

The trio watched him wheeze in amusement, ‘I didn’t expect him to be the first to say something.’ Damian mused, raising an eyebrow.

“Jay, what are you raving about now?!” Tim sighed, slumping back into Damian’s usual armchair before stiffening and sitting up straight. “Wait, since when do YOU sit on the couch?! With people you just met?!”

The rest of the family started to mutter to themselves and Cass began to chuckle, catching the rest of them off guard. “Called it.” Was all she said, looking pointedly at Alfred.

“Yes, Miss Cassandra, you did. Master Jason, please get off the floor, we have chairs.” Alfred set down the kettle of coffee and the cups on a table and began to serve it up. “Miss Cassandra spoke to me this morning that this was a possibility, and I honestly didn’t have the heart to tell her I already knew.”

Marinette began to giggle, “I guess you’re the observant one in the family.”

Cass nodded and gave Marinette a thumbs up, mouthing, -I approve-.

More giggles from Marinette, this time with a few chuckles from Luka before the room exploded with everyone asking what was going on and why half the room knew while the rest didn’t until they all looked down to see that Damian was holding hands with both Parisians.

“Seems it was fate that I had to catch a last-minute flight.” Damian said matter-of-factly. “They are my soulmates.”

[plus-size-reader]

Perfectly Content

Sam Winchester x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1474 words

Warnings:none 

Summary: Reader getting Sam and Dean out from holding and having a fluffy night with Sam after

——————————————————————————————————

Lucifer wanted an heir.

You had never thought about it before but once that simple fact clicked into place, it all made sense. Of course he wanted an heir, he had possessed the president so the only likely progression was this.

“We should have seen this coming” you sighed, staring out the window with a blank stare on your face. You were shocked, and bothered but it didn’t matter.

There were too many things going on, and your head was spinning.

Sam and Dean had been arrested for attempting to assassinate the president, Kelly Kline was pregnant with the spawn of Satan and she was on the run.

There was nothing going right, and you were the only one really on the playing field.

...It was all up to you.

So, you did the only thing that you knew to do. You pulled your pressed uniform from your closet and got all dressed up to check it out.

You had to be careful, with all the suspicion around Sam and Dean but with some divine intervention, you may just be able to pull it off.

“Hello, my name is Agent Holiday and I’m here to see the Winchester brothers” you commanded, setting your identification down on the counter without a shred of hesitance.

You didn’t care at all about anything more than getting your boys out, and you would do anything you could to figure this out. “The Winchesters are in secure custody, I can’t allow you to see them”

It wasn’t a negotiation, you knew that but something told you that these people had never dealt with someone like you before.

“We’ll see about that” you huffed, reaching out to take your identification back. You hadn’t been actually expecting to get back there, but you had gotten what you wanted.

You knew where they were.

In all the time that you had been waiting to get clearance, you had been able to take a nearly complete inventory of the layout, and you narrowed it down from there.

You were positive that you could get them out, with a hell of a lot of help. It was going to take time, but you knew that you would get them out eventually.

At the very least, it made you feel a little better to know that those boys had been through worse.

...if they could handle hell, they could handle this.

~

The coroner informed you via a phone call that the Winchesters had been found dead in their cells this morning.

It didn’t surprise you.

You smiled, though you had to give them the whole grief routine over the phone. You couldn’t oversell it but you couldn’t make it clear that you were happy either.

You just had to play your role, the perfect role of the stone cold FBI agent with no ulterior motives.

However, you couldn’t have been happier.

You owed Billie a hefty favor for what she did for you, but you had assured her that she would be heavily compensated for it. After all, she already owed you one, so you would get her next time.

All that mattered really was the fact that the boys were out, and as soon as you found them, you could focus on Lucifer’s mistress and the abomination growing inside her.

“I would have ditched the jumpsuits boys?” you laughed, meeting them on the edge of forest, a grin on your face. After all this time, maybe you should have said something more, but it didn’t seem necessary.

Sam and Dean were family, and it didn’t matter if there were weeks, months, or years between times you saw them. If they needed you, you would always be there.

“Come on guys, we have a baby to find” you urged, getting them both out from under the cover of the trees into the car you’d driven out here earlier.

You knew your boys well enough, and you were completely prepared.

“I have a change of clothes for you, and some snacks along with water bottles in the cooler” you informed, sliding into the passenger seat without hesitation.

You had been planning this since they had been hauled away in those big black secret service vans. Someone had to get them out, and if you didn’t, those boys would have rotted in those cells.

They knew it just as well as you did but didn’t bother to express their gratitude now. Instead, they drank and eat as much as they physically could without being sick and then slept the rest of the way back to the motel.

They were now suspects in a terrorist attack, a plan to assassinate the president but you had all made it through much worse.

Right now, all you could think about was getting them both a shower, because after that many days in a holding cell and a trek through the woods, neither of Mary Winchester’s sons was smelling all that great.

You were just glad to have them back, but you’d be much better once you could hold Sam to your chest and really get to enjoy the fact that he was home.

He was safe, and there was nothing better than that.

...Or so you thought.

You assumed that finding those two dirty hunters in the woods was going to be the highlight of your day but that wasn’t true at all.

Hotels weren’t always what they were cracked up to be but this one was pretty nice as far as cheap off-the-road places went. Besides, based on where they had just been, the boys weren’t in a position to be picky.

Really all any of you wanted was to get some rest.

These past few weeks had been beyond tiring and apparently it was nowhere near over. If Kelly Kline really did have a baby growing inside her that belonged to Lucifer, that was gonna be a problem.

After all, something like that couldn’t be allowed to stand.

So, with that to look forward to, it was only natural that you’d want to relax when given the opportunity and tonight had provided just that. Tonight had provided a chance to just be normal again and you weren’t going to waste it.

If anything, you were going to be so relaxed in the morning that you’d be jello in the morning and the idea of taking down the spawn of satan wouldn’t be all that appealing.

In any case, when Sam came out of that shower all cleaned up with his hair damp and skin clean, you couldn’t help but want to just bury your face deep into his chest and breath in his sent.

You’d been sleeping alone for so long that the idea of just getting to share space with him again was worth more than gold.

“Hey there handsome” you grinned, teasing him slightly, wiggling your eyebrows up and down. You thought it was so funny, so excellent, and perhaps he would have...

Had he not been so exhausted.

In these past few weeks, both Sam and Dean had endured large amounts of mental anguish along with physical anguish, and even you couldn’t understand it.

You had been to hell and back but you couldn’t imagine sitting in an empty room in the dark for days on end. It was enough to drive anyone crazy.

The Winchesters may have been a special case, but they were still human and they weren’t immune to that sort of treatment.

Still, Sam smiled.

It was a tired sort of smile, the sort of smile you would have expected on a day that he spent several hours on a hunt and came home in search of a warm bed to sleep in and a ton of cuddles.

You understood the sentiment, to be fair.

“You ready for bed?” he hummed, flipping the comforter back on his side of the bed to make room for himself. Sam was a big boy, but he liked snuggling so there was always enough room.

As soon as he got settled in, Sam let out a sigh. His skin was still a bit warm from the hot shower so the cool sheets felt amazing against his skin.

“I missed you” he smiled, cuddling up to your back to nuzzle his face in your neck, just letting himself be for a few seconds.  

You mumbled in agreeance, realizing that in this moment, you were perfectly content. Those moments were rare in the life you lived, it was true, but this was one of them.

This was one of those moments you would look back on if you ever wanted to find peace, and you could tell Sam was feeling the same way.

...And before you knew it, the man you loved was snoring at your back, curled up completely against your frame in the motel bed.

[archived-mononokeland]

dreaming of love in everlasting friendship [ ✿ ] hanahaki!reader x leviathan

Warning: angst, blood, hanahaki

“ dreaming of love in everlasting friendship “

[ leviathan x hanahaki!reader ]

[ ✿ ]

You thought it was fictional.

You thought that there’s no way a disease that’s only existed in media and nothing else could exist. But then again, you’re living with a group of the strongest demons. So who were you to say what was in the realm of fiction and what isn’t?

But even if it was, you wish it didn’t exist.

It started when you left Leviathan’s room after a gaming session. You vividly remember his grin, and what he said with it, “Thanks again for helping me get that SSR card! You’re a true best friend!”

And that’s when the petals flourished.

Such small little things got you leaning on the wall in the hallway for support. Initial shock got to you. It wasn’t every day that you coughed up bloody petals after all. A thought came across you, but you couldn’t believe it. . .right?

But perhaps you needed more evidence to back that up.

A visit to Satan’s room and vaguely explaining if you could borrow a, ‘book about Devildom and human diseases’. With only a few questions that you shrugged off, you returned to your room with two armfuls of books.

And now here you are, sprawled across your bed with books messily scattered around. At least the scent was nice. But finally, and unfortunately, you found what you were looking for.

“Hanahaki,” the passage reads, “is a disease manifesting in the respiration system, where it takes form of a flower sprouting inside the organ. Hanahaki is not a contractible disease, and the infected can only get it if they are in the receiving end of unrequited love.”

Your eyebrows pulled to a frown. A frown that would go deeper and deeper as you read on.

“The only way to a cure of this disease is either getting the other party to return said love, or get a surgery done to remove the flower.” The book explains, “The latter is paired with the consequence of forgetting everything about the other party from the moment the infected fell in love, and onwards. These includes every memory they have of the other party, from direct encounters to mentions of their names and everything in between.”

The moment you fell for Leviathan. . .when was that? It felt impossible to pinpoint exactly when. In fact, you felt it was more of a long term process than just ‘boom! in love’.

So how much would you forget about him then? That thought itself scares you.

“If Hanahaki is not cured, then the infected would die.” As if on cue, a series of coughs racked up your throat, with a gentle flurry of bloody petals falling in your hands. Tears stared to blur your eyes, tears you only wiped and continued reading. “Life expectancy of someone with Hanahaki is approximately two years. However, when the infected comes in contact with the significant other for more than 6+ hours a day constantly, the time would be cut short to one and a half years.”

Your hands were shaking. You didn’t notice that before, but it was something you expected. The blood on your hands seem to taunt you. One and a half year of life expectancy, huh?

At least you’d be gone out of their lives by then.

Just a little bit more, you pushed yourself to read. “There is no deadline, so to say, of when the infected can get cured. As long as they are not dead, at any point in Hanahaki they can take the measures mentioned previously to remove it.”

You’ll stop there. Taking several deep breaths. You closed the books and put them in the mess of other ones around you. Hopefully Satan doesn’t mind you borrowing these for a longer time.

With a heaved sigh, your body fell onto the bed. Despite your mind muddled as it is, with your drooping eyes, you fell into slumber.

【 ✿   ∙    ✿ 】

It’s now a week before your depart from Devildom.

You haven’t really visited him much, Leviathan noticed. Actually, it felt like you were. . .avoiding him? No, it can’t be, right? You were his true best friend! But then again, he’s a yucky otaku, so of course there’s a reason you might avoid him. . .

Each breakfast and dinner, you’d hurry up and finish your food to scurry off to class. Each time you saw Leviathan down in a hallway, you pretended to not see him and go the other way. Each invite out for lunch, if Levi was involved, you’d turn it down instantly.

Where did he go wrong in the friendship?

That question plagued his mind for a long time now. And he decided he wants answers. At least to get you some closure of sorts before you leave for the end of the program. . .

“Hey!! There’s an event going on in Mononoke Land, and it’s a co-op one. You gotta help me with it.”

The text stood in the message box silently. His finger hovered over the send button but. . .hesitancy found itself within him. He huffed, and pressed the button with a small ‘ding!’ coming out of it.

You’ve read it. Levi knows because of the symbol next to his text. With a few seconds pause, the dots finally appear on your side.

“Okay! I’ll come to your room in a bit.”

A smile surfaced itself on the demon’s face. Thankfully someone else in this house has Mononoke Land—albeit it took some nagging on Leviathan’s part for you to download it. But still! It felt nice to have another person to share your passions with. Levi was unapologetically himself no matter what, but for someone to get it? It felt nice.

Soon, a knock sounded from the door. “Come in!” Leviathan exclaimed, followed by the click of it opening.

“So,” You started, pulling your D.D.D out of your pocket, “What’s the event about? I haven’t seen any co-op needed ones from Mononoke Land of all games.”

The demon noticed you opening the game to check it out. He grinned, “The devs are trying new things. This one has it that there’s two rare monsters that you gotta catch and trade with someone for their evolution. Both forms are saved in your MonoDex and you get your reward!”

He sees your eyebrows raising in a bit of curiosity as you checked out the event in the game. What he didn’t see was that your eyes were clouded with focusing on anything that involved him.

“Yeah I could’ve just asked someone on an online forum to trade with me, but—“ You hope he didn’t notice your breath hitching,”—it’d be more fun to spend it with you.”

Your clutch on your D.D.D. grew tighter. You hope he didn’t notice that too. “Thanks,” was all you could breath out for a moment, “So I’m guessing we’ll be searching around Devildom?”

“Well, someone mentioned that they’d spawn from The Fall to The Mausoleum.”

“Cool.” You offered him a smile. You feel a choked feeling grow, but you ignored it. “Should we get going?”

“Yeah! I gotta be at the top rank!”

【 ✿   ∙    ✿ 】

Devildom had an atmosphere way different from the human world; that much wasn’t hard to see.

Not only had the gray sky been a huge change of aura, but the streets alone gave a sort of mystical feeling. Like you’d see in a movie. But then again, you couldn’t say you expected anything less, nor more.

But everything seemed brighter with Leviathan around, you’ve noticed.

While you spent most of your time in his room, in R.A.D., in the dining room—the roads you’ve grown familiar walking on lit up in a way you’ve never seen before.

Too bad he didn’t feel the same effect.

“Hey!” Leviathan himself called out, dragging you from your thoughts, “That’s the other one over there! In the Royal Library!”

At this point, you’ve already caught one of the monsters for the event. It’d resembled a flower, and judging by the name—which was so wisely named “Flowermoon”—it was a Moonflower. Now you had to catch up as the demon ran into the building.

It was rather rude to barge into a library while running loudly, you thought. But oh, what joy it brought you to see that smile on his face.

Thankfully, Levi hadn’t caused as much as a commotion when you caught it (it resembled another plant, named Arborvitae, but it didn’t matter) . It didn’t take him even a millisecond to ask to trade right away, to which you obliged. Now the event was done, with you and him placing at the Top 2 to finish it.

Shaking himself off of his euphoria, he looks at you with a smile, “Thanks for coming with a yucky otaku like me on something like this,” you wanted to refute it, but flowers almost came up instead, “I really had fun. Even if it mean being around a bunch of normies and going outside.”

Your heart clenched.

“It’s no pro—“ That sentence couldn’t be finished as you finally broke. He just had to be so. . .him. Unbelievably dorky. As a result, you doubled down coughing to the nearest wall. The world was spinning, the blood was clear on your tongue.

But. . . he can’t know.

Before the petals had a chance to slip out of your mouth, you kept it all in with the help of your hand. Fortunately, none came out. Unfortunately, the blood was clear on your hand.

Leviathan called your name in shock. You snap your head at him. “That’s. . . That’s blood, isn’t it. . ? Are you okay?!”

The flower tastes bad in your mouth, and yet you forced yourself to speak, “Y-Yep, am just fine.”

He looks at you inridiculously. Not that you can see him as your head hung once again to fight a wave of coughs. “N-No you aren’t, I’ll bring us back to the House—!”

You forgot what happened next. Everything just went dark.

【 ✿   ∙    ✿ 】

The memory after that was a bit distinct. You managed to convince the others that you were fine (how you did it, you’ve forgotten. You just knew it involved some yelling). And finally, the day to return had arrived. The day to return back to the human world.

Simeon and Luke had gone ahead, leaving you and Solomon. You secretly hoped the two of you could somehow have a meet-up in the human world, but you still had his contact in your D.D.D., so that was a matter you’d settle later. With a wave, a smile, and one final goodbye, Solomon stepped through the portal.

Now. . .

You turned around to face all the demon brothers. All you’ve grown to love. Each of them gave their own special goodbye message to you, with words that you’ll hold close to your heart; you’re sure of it.

Then came. . . Levi.

Your lungs tightened up. Just a bit more, you urged, until this is over. The feeling hit a great boost as his arms wrapped around yours in a hug.

His words were static now. You wished you could hear it, just one last time. No matter how you tried, you couldn’t. . . you couldn’t discern whatever he was saying. You just nodded and hoped no one saw tears almost spilling from your eyes.

He pulled away. You did too. The world was spinning, you noticed, but you had to pretend it didn’t. With a last wave, you stepped through the portal yourself.

As the glowing door from two worlds closed, the first thing you do was collapse on the floor coughing. Flowers and petals were the last thing you saw that day.

【 ✿   ∙    ✿ 】

The summer break passed by like a breeze.

The flowers never stopped, just less intense than before. Made sense, you no longer hung around Leviathan as much—or at all, really. Each message he sent you—other than in the groupchats—you just tried to ignore. It probably hurt for both of you, but. . .

Either way, the letter still came like last time. The invite letter for joining yet another exchange program, this time, for a new year of school. You smiled faintly, threading every word in your mind. It’s a little different from the last one, you’ve noticed.

However. . .

You crumpled up the paper and threw it in the trash can. The action left a bitter taste in your mouth, but it’s a choice you’ve arrived to for quite some time.

You wouldn’t be back for another year. And the year after that. And the next.

✿

For the sake of both of us,

You thought, hacking up another round of petals and flowers,

I’ll be gone out of your life.

[thebindingofhyperfixation]

I have a bunch of stuff

I want to make a hypothetical mod with a hypothetical new final boss, and I want unlocks too

These do sound super op but my general idea is that the boss is just super fuckin' hard.

Note: A lot of the item unlocks will only spawn when you're playing as that character because they have little to no use on other characters.

so here's what I have for now:

Isaac-- "Isaac feels holier!"

Isaac has a minimum Angel deal chance of 15% and when something is rerolled it has a chance to turn into an Angel deal item. But for convenience's sake, this cannot happen to Devil deal items.

Magdalene-- "VALENTINE'S CARD" has appeared in the basement

(Who could it be from?)

Active item. Drops 4-5 random (mostly Red) hearts or Playing cards.

Cain-- "COMBINATION LOCKS" have appeared in the basement

Basically combination locks replace locked doors so you don't need to spend a key to open it, just press up against it a couple times. Probability of opening increases with Luck. Kinda rare but only a little.

Judas-- "Judas feels eviler..."

Judas has a minimum Devil deal chance of 25%. Book Of Belial now gives 3.5 damage instead of 2.

???-- "??? feels blue."

??? trails Aquarius-esque creep. If enemies are killed by the creep, they have a high chance of dropping a soul heart.

Eve--

Samson-- "Samson feels angry!"

Obstacles that Samson comes into contact with have a chance of breaking. Rocks and mushrooms and stuff break somewhat easily, but the sliding spikey blocks, turrets, and Stoneys have less chance of breaking.

Azazel--

Lazarus-- "SAFETY BROCHURE" has appeared in the basement

(Be careful!)

Yep. Go to my Carrd if you don't know.

Eden-- "HAIRDRESSERS" have appeared in the basement

Upon use, will give the player a random one of Eden's hairstyles and raise the cap on a stat it also adds 3 to. Will then break. Pretty rare.

The Lost-- "The Lost feels found!"

The Lost starts with Treasure and Blue Map. Events within certain timings-- Boss Rush, Hush, etc etc-- now have 15 more minutes before they become unavailable.

Lilith-- "RABIES" has appeared in the basement

Yeah. Carrd.

Keeper--

Apollyon--

The Forgotten-- "HOLY SERMON" has appeared in the basement

(Your soul feels stronger...)

Passive item. Makes it so The Soul can slowly drag The Forgotten along. For other characters, give them 5 Soul hearts and makes Soul heart drops more common.

Bethany--

Jacob & Esau-- "PAPYRACEUS" has appeared in the basement

(There isn't enough room)

One-time-use active item. Squishes Esau and sticks him to Jacob. Esau's Damage, Range, Tear Rate, etc stay the same but can no longer be altered. He shoots too.

-

T!Isaac-- "THERAPY" has appeared in the basement

(Do not let your pain define you)

Passive item. All Mom items are removed and Mom, Mom's Heart, and It Lives are instantly killed upon entering the room. Mom-themed enemies like the hands and feet are removed, and so are The High Priestess and its inverted counterpart. Essentially, anything involving Mom is just gone. Removed Mom items are replaced with Angel items.

T!Magdalene-- "TOURNIQUET" has appeared in the basement

(Wind it up!)

Active item. Upon use, slows the rate at which T!Maggy bleeds.

T!Cain-- "Cain feels a bit hollow..."

T!Cain gains a slot to store 3 pickups, kinda like T!???'s Hold. It's held in his eye socket for aesthetic reasons.

T!Judas-- "TRUE NORTH" has appeared in the basement

(Follow the star...)

Spawns an idle orbital that hovers near the door leading to a random special room, occasionally forcing a Devil or Angel Deal. Kinda like Navi, Card Reading, and Star Of Bethlohem in one item. Is given to both Judases at the beginning of a run.

T!???--

T!Eve-- "BAD BLOOD" has appeared in the basement

(Wait, I though you said B-)

Spawns 3 random clots and deals a heart of damage.

T!Samson-- "ANGER MANAGEMENT" has appeared in the basement

(Just take a deep breath...)

Trinket. As long as it is held, T!Samson will not go berserk. However, when you drop it, all of the berserks that would have activated activate all at once, providing a berserk that can last for a maximum of 150 seconds.

T!Lazarus-- "NECROSIS" has appeared in the basement

(Death and life become one)

Passive item. T!Lazarus still switches from dead to alive, but the two's stats and health are halved then merged together.

T!Eden-- "Eden feels more grounded"

Items of certain types (flight, tear effects, followers) will only turn into other items that give a same or similar effect.

T!Lost-- "GOD" HAS APPEARED IN THE BASEMENT

(He'll hold your hand)

Super rare one-time-use active item. It takes your items and stats into account and gives you whatever you need most, mostly horse pills to adjust your stats. May give you items that synergize with whatever build you have.

T!Lilith-- "SURGICAL SCISSORS" has appeared in the basement

(Sever yourself from your sin)

Upon use, detaches Gello from T!Lilith. Gello can be freely controlled by the fire keys. T!Lilith also begins 'bleeding' profusely, making a large amount of red creep where she was standing and making a stream of red tears shoot from her stomach. This can be charged like a Monstro's Lung shot.

T!Keeper-- "REAL LUCK!" has appeared in the basement

(Hey, now it actually does something!)

Passive item. Your Luck stat directly contributes to a multitude of factors-- pickups you need the most appearing, overall better items, tinted rocks are more common, chance spawns like devil and angel rooms are more common. This can backfire, however, as a bad Luck stat can completely fuck you over.

T!Apollyon-- "TOMIE" has appeared in the basement...

(yes it's a junji ito reference)

Spawns a follower-- a black haired girl who just walks around. Projectiles in a certain radius of her will get sucked in, and if she takes enough damage, she will 'die'. However, on the next floor, Tomie will respawn there and will be an additional Tomie, albeit smaller and weaker.

T!Forgotten-- "CRUTCHES" has appeared in the basement

Active item, no charge. Kinda like Notched Axe but for actual combative purposes. Deals probably like 5 damage with the player's damage on top. Deals 10 damage along with player's when the player has Brittle Bones, Bone Spurs, Compound Fracture, etc. Gives The Soul a way to attack.

T!Bethany--

T!Jacob-- "Jacob feels forgiven!"

Dark Esau is permanently slower and the time he shows up is delayed. Dark Esau's ability to bypass invincibility is also removed.

[isolaradiale]

01010011 01001111 01010011 00101110 00100000 01001001 00100000 01000100 01001111 00100000 01001110 01001111 01010100 00100000 01001000 01000001 01010110 01000101 00100000 01001101 01010101 01000011 01001000 00100000 01001100 01001111 01001110 01000111 01000101 01010010 00100000 01000010 01000101 01000110 01001111 01010010 01000101 00100000 01001001 01010100 00100000 01010111 01000001 01010011 00100000 01010100 01000001 01001011 01000101 01001110 00101110

It was the last communication left by Ofiuco before she went dark at the end of the day on April 14th. The Stars scrambled to locate her, but not only was her signal missing but they were not able to find her with any camera in the city. Their only clue was the foreign signal that she had been previously intercepting. Given the amount of enemies the Stars had accrued, it was imperative that they locate her. In the wrong hands she could become little more than a weapon. If the assailants were competent, she could level all of Spirale.

This, however, was the least of their worries.

Less than a day after Ofiuco disappeared, a single, different, existence spawned within the city. It was an anomaly. It didn’t belong. By the end of Thursday it had multiplied by ten. Then, at midnight, there was a broadcast. 

Every screen in the city lit up with the image.

Ten robed figures standing in a dark room. Their message was clear:

ADDRESSING ISOLA RADIALE. WE ARE AGENTS OF NULL. WE HAVE SEIZED THIS CITY’S DEFENSE DROID AND DEMAND THAT THE REIGNING LEADERS OF THIS CITY, THOSE REFERRED TO AS “THE ISLAND STARS”, TURN THEMSELVES IN FOR ARREST IMMEDIATELY. DESMOND VENIER, ELEINE VENIER, SEIRAS WALKER, RENAE ADISA AND FELICITY BOURNE; YOU HAVE UNTIL THE END OF THIS SEVEN DAY PERIOD BEFORE WE DESTROY YOUR CITY AND TAKE YOU BY FORCE. 

CITIZENS THAT HELP US WILL BE GRANTED FREEDOM FROM THEIR CONSTRAINTS AND SERVITUDE. THOSE WHO OPPOSE US WILL BE EXTERMINATED. THIS DROID WILL BE OUR VESSEL UNTIL THE CRIMINALS ARE APPREHENDED. ANY CAPTIVE LOOKING TO FURTHER OUR CAUSE MAY REACH OUT TO ONE OF WE, THE AGENTS, AND A PORTION OF THEIR STRENGTH WILL BE RETURNED TO THEM FOR THE COMING CONFLICT. WE DARE "THE STARS" TO DEFY US.

The screen went blank as unrest spread across the city. The Stars, however, were not so quick to accept this threat. It took a few minutes for them to scramble to respond, but screens quickly came abuzz once more with the signal wrestled back from the GPU. This time, a man with white hair and blue eyes appeared on the screen. He sat dressed neatly in an old-styled formal clothing--given the short notice, it’s clear that it was his typical attire. When he spoke, he sounded much more calm than he felt.

“Attention citizens. It’s rare that we address you as such, but this circumstance is rather dire. I am Alathfar of the Island Stars. The infiltration of Spirale by the agents of NULL poses a serious threat not only to those of us overseeing this island, but also to the inhabitants both natural and otherworldly. They will not offer you freedom--only erasure.”

There was a pause, the sound of shuffling and frantic typing audible from the background. He took only a moment before continuing.

“There’s a lot we have to do, but the most important is taking back Ofiuco. In order for us to retrieve her, the network must be temporarily taken offline. Manually. Unfortunately, we can’t do this alone. For that end, we’ve created access points--holes--to reach the network’s cables that reside under the city. We need any citizen willing and able to go sever them using any means. The locations of these access points will appear on your phone’s map of the city.”

He took a breathe, then, and closed his eyes. When they reopened, they were full of determination.

“We will take back our city, but we need your help to do so. With Ofiuco able to override our commands, we’re unable to maintain any serious advantages, but once she’s been freed we’ll be able to offer a reward to any who assist in driving NULL out. Together, let’s make quick work of this.”

The broadcast flicks off as Alathfar’s explanation and plea for help rings throughout the city. All the citizens needed to do was sever wires across the island, but... would it really be that easy? 

Not if NULL had anything to say about it. 

Almost as if on cue--almost as if the agents had been waiting for the scientist’s cute cry for help, their pathetic defiance, to end--a loud explosion sounded from somewhere in the city. 

Ofiuco emerged.

Her expression was blank. Her eyes glowing an ominous crimson red. A low rumbling echo coursed throughout the city as storm clouds began to form and shift. As gravity began to fluctuate. And as the earth began to move.

It would definitely not be as easy as just cutting some cords. 

INFORMATION

Welcome to our new story event, SECURITY BREACH! As you can surely tell this will be one of the heavier events we’ve had in a while.

Ofiuco has been hacked by the mysterious NULL unit of the equally mysterious GPU. They demand the arrest of the Island Stars in exchange for the freedom of the city dwellers.

However the Stars have offered a counterpoint: the GPU’s definition of ‘freedom’ is in fact erasing the town and all of the people within altogether. They make a plea to help regain Ofiuco from the enemy control.

How this is done is through a forced reboot of the network that Ofiuco exists on. Many wires run beneath the city encased in steel tubing that are part of this network. They are typically protected by a barrier that prevents interference, but the Stars have disabled this barrier so they can be breached and cut. Disabling every line this way will force Ofiuco to shut down, and she can be retrieved. While these cords are usually buried so deep that they cannot be accessed, large holes leading down to the exposed tubing will open and close at random throughout the city at midnight each day. Once the cords in an area are cut, the phone service/internet/power in that area will go out--but this is optional flavor to include in your writing only if you’d like, since it’s near impossible to keep track of.

Exposed tubing will be marked on your phone’s map application, locations always current. Characters allied with GPU may be guarding them, but there are also monsters from NULL’s division that will manifest. They are like weak shades that appear in large numbers, each wielding a variety of elemental magic attacks (think standard RPG spells).

In the meantime NULL has their own agents at work to make this task more difficult. If a character buys into the GPU’s claims and trusts them over the Stars, they can have their powers temporarily restored through Ofiuco’s connection provided the character uses those powers to either stir chaos or prevent those attempting to sever the wires from doing so. At the first sign anyone given this gift might be turning against NULL, they will have these abilities revoked and will be targeted for elimination. Unfortunately, the Stars can not offer this same boon to those trying to sever the cords, as Ofiuco would immediately override their authority.

You’re free to give abilities to yourself if your muse would work with GPU, but you cannot unlock any abilities that fall under tiers 1-7 on the vsbattlewiki tiering system. You can, however, nerf existing abilities to fall under tiers 8 and up. If you have any questions about this please send it to the masterlist! 

Ofiuco, now a mindless hand of the GPU, will travel throughout the city over the course of part 1 of the event. She will be altering the weather and safety conditions in each ward periodically to cause chaos and inhibit the efforts of those looking to free her. We will post a Disaster Report detailing these effects every two days, with the first coming an hour after this event post goes up.

FAQ

HOW LONG WILL PART 1 RUN FOR? Part 2 will begin at midnight EST on April 24th. However you will be able to start new part 1 threads throughout the entirety of part 2!

DO I NEED TO PARTICIPATE IN BOTH PARTS OF THE EVENT TO EARN CREDIT FOR RANKING UP? No! You only need to participate in one part to earn rank up credit. You don’t need to hunt for the wires or impede anyone’s progress by siding with the GPU either, you could interact with others during the other parts of the crisis or even just do a drabble with your muse finding safety if you find things to intense.

IS THERE AN EVENT REWARD? Yes! However you will be required to contribute 500 words to part 1, and then again to part 2 to qualify. The word count doesn’t need to be a single interaction and can be spread across multiples if preferred! It also doesn’t matter which side, if any, your muse is on during the event. While we haven’t decided on the reward entirely yet, it’s likely to be an ability or weapon unlock.

CAN WE INTERACT WITH THE AGENTS? Not directly unfortunately, although you can contact them via a special text number in your phone just to request abilities if you wish to support them. For reference you might see them out and about on the field observing, but they cannot be interacted with or harmed.

CAN WE INTERACT WITH OFIUCO? No! You might be able to catch glimpses of her and her glowing red eyes, but you cannot speak to or hurt her.

MY CHARACTER IS FULLY UNLOCKED AND, IN LESS THAN A FEW WORDS, OP. SHOULD I EXPECT ANY TEMPORARY NERFS FOR THE EVENT DURATION? There are only special instances where this might be the case. Conceptual powers that would make this too easy for either side have been sealed by the GPU, so anything that might be able to instantly delete people or places without room for a struggle are off limits. If you’re not sure about a power you have already unlocked, feel free to send a question to the masterlist!

DOESN’T THIS FAVOR VILLAINS THAT MIGHT WANT TO SIDE WITH THE GPU TOO MUCH? Yes, and that’s intentional! Our events are usually geared towards giving heroes a chance to shine, and so for part 1 we’re trying to subvert that. Part 2, however? ;)

WILL ANY DAMAGE DONE TO THE CITY DURING THIS EVENT BE PERMANENT? It’s possible! However we’ll make sure it does not affect any character owned businesses after the fact and will be fixed, though they might sustain damages during. Normally the city structures rebuild themselves anyways, but the GPU has disabled this feature through Ofiuco. 

WHAT DOES GPU STAND FOR? ;)

CAN WE ACCESS THE BRANCHES DURING PART 1? The branches have currently been consumed by the mist that usually forms a perimeter around the island. That means leaving the city is impossible for the time being, and anyone who was in the branches before the event began will be teleported into the city.

[jovialyouthmusic]

Silver Service

We return to the hospital to monitor Anton’s condition, and Olivia visits Lucretia again. Liam makes Olivia an offer.

Word count 3542

A/N One of my characters tried to bail out while I was writing this, but I managed to bring her back. Odd how characters take over. No warnings, though it is a little dark - poisoning, threats, implied death of a character.

21 If only it were all simple.

‘Hello husband. You’ve been asking to see me, so here I am. Am I not worth a glance? A word?’ Anton struggled to open his eyes. He knew that voice – whose was it? He felt as if a ton weight sat on his chest, and his head was filled with a thick fog.

‘You had the gall to uphold the outdated concept of an arranged marriage. Even when you knew I wouldn’t honour it, you continued to expect me to capitulate. But Nevrakis never give in. You never had a chance of me being your wife or your Queen.’ It meant nothing to him. Nevrakis? Who was that? Queen? He fought harder. If only he could open his eyes he might be able to speak. If he could speak, maybe he could move…

‘Know this, Anton. Liam is ten times the man you are, and he and I will secure the future of Cordonia. I carry his heir, and I will never be yours. I’ll fight that to the last breath in my body, and Liam will stay by my side, whether he is King or not’

Fight to the last breath?

If you can breathe, you can stand, and if you can stand, you can fight.

The words echoed around his head as the mist cleared, and he drew all his strength together. Everything came flooding back to him.

She carried Liam’s child? When she was supposed to be his, promised to him from childhood – his bride who would rule Cordonia by his side. He forced his eyes open at last, taking in the sight of his betrothed sitting beside him, and with a superhuman effort his hand shot out and he gripped her wrist. He was rewarded by the look of astonishment and alarm in her eyes.

Then that bastard spawn of the usurper Constantine ruined it all, snatching her arm away from him. Something was happening in his chest – squeezing, crushing pain. He fought for breath as Liam and Olivia were pushed away by medical staff.

Was this a heart attack? Why did his head hurt too, throbbing with his heartbeat? He was in the right place, that was certain. This was a hospital, and he was surrounded by doctors. His arm went into spasm, followed by his whole body tensing and stiffening for a moment before going limp, and something happened in his head, something hot which spread outward. He couldn’t move – nothing – not his arms, his legs, his hands, he could not speak or swallow or breathe. The pain increased and terror gripped him. His eyes were the only thing that obeyed his will, and they widened and fixed on one of the doctors, pleading. He seemed to float above his body, looking down  as he watched the medics tending to him – able to feel everything, see everything, hear everything – but he could do nothing, make no sound, no movement… then everything went black.

------

Bastien sat beside Anton’s bed. He was as he had been before the King’s visit – alive but not conscious. The difference was that he had suffered a massive heart attack and some strange seizure after which he had to be intubated so he could breathe.

Lucretia had refused to elaborate on the nature of the poison that had been mixed in with the mussel extract that triggered Anton’s allergic reaction. All they knew was that it was a rare Lythican herb whose effects were subsequently unknown.

The swelling on Anton’s brain had subsided, but a head scan had revealed that a clot had migrated there from the one that caused his heart attack, depriving certain areas of oxygen despite his constant monitoring. Only a specialist could even guess at the results of that deprivation, but it was highly unlikely that Anton would recover and be the man he had been before.

Grimly, Bastien surveyed Anton’s features, again slack and unresponsive. If he never regained any cognition, he wouldn’t get closure from the man who had arranged the kidnap of his soulmate, assaulted her and plotted the murder of Lady Adelaide. In Bastien’s mind, those plans almost overshadowed his scheme to gain the throne of Cordonia and most likely rule as a despot far worse than Constantine. At least his former employer had maintained a semblance of benevolence and kindness to his subjects, despite doing things behind the scenes that Bastien still deeply regretted helping him to execute. He had the feeling that Anton’s reign would have been far worse, and he would have fled the country rather than serve him. Who knows whether Anton would have insisted on his loyalty or had him disposed of?

He decided that he didn’t feel the need to talk to Anton. If he had some level of cognition, he was suffering sufficiently. If he was unconscious in every sense of the word, it was pointless. He had already made him regret hurting Sophia, and Drake for Riley. This near vegetative state would atone as revenge for Lady Adelaide, and for Liam and Olivia. He rose from his seat and left the room, nodding to Paulos, the guard at the door, who stood to attention as he emerged.

‘As you were, son. You know the drill – no unscheduled visitors, and only staff that are on the approved list. If there’s an emergency, then any medical staff can be admitted. If you feel the need to observe him at any point, it must be with an approved member of staff. No single visitors or members of staff to be admitted apart from myself or the King. Have you got that?’

‘Yes Sir’ Bastien clapped him on the shoulder.

‘Good man. Contact Lewis in the first instance if you need to, or myself if he’s not available’ Bastien walked steadily away from Anton’s room without the aid of his cane, making for the SUV to go back to the Palace.

------

‘So in conclusion, Lord Severus is in a serious but stable condition.’ Liam said, looking into the TV camera lens in a statement to the nation from his office at the Palace. ‘I feel that he would not wish for us to cancel or postpone any Royal events, and were he able to speak for himself, he would applaud our continuing efforts to raise funds for deserving causes in Lythikos. Duchess Olivia herself has sponsored a brand new intensive care unit in the Lythos General Hospital in the hope that those needing specialist treatment in the Duchy would not lose valuable time having to be transported to the main Capitol Hospital.’ He looked down at his desk ‘Should there be any major change in Lord Severus’s condition I will be informed and will make any relevant decisions as needed’

‘And cut’ the director called ‘Thankyou your Majesty, this will be broadcast shortly’ The TV crew started to pack their things away, and Liam ran his fingers through his hair.

‘Thankyou for your professionalism’ he smiled graciously ‘It’s always a pleasure to work with you’ He hoped that his statement would soften the blow of Lucretia’s publicised confession to poisoning Anton. The popularity of Lythikos within Cordonia was seesawing wildly at the moment, and he intended for everything to end up with popular opinion firmly on Olivia’s side as the wronged Duchess, forced into a marriage she didn’t want and brought up by a ruthless and unfeeling relative. The week or so spent openly in her company would go some way toward softening her image ready for him to announce that she carried his heir.

Day by day it looked increasingly unlikely that Anton would ever be in a fit state to rule the country. CT scans had shown irreversible brain and nerve damage that meant he would at the very least be paralysed from the neck down, and at worst might never regain consciousness. Liam’s archivists and lawyers assured him that being fit to rule was an absolute necessity for any candidate to the throne. He wondered if part of his father’s reason for concealing his illness had been simply to remain in power as long as he could.

Now it was time for him to go to Lythikos for the charity snow sports. Nobles and commoners alike would compete for trophies in skiing, skating, bobsleighing and other events. Nobles would pay for the privilege of competing, and sponsorship for commoners had been invited from local and national businesses. Tickets were on sale to view the event and there would be a winter fair at which medals would be awarded, followed by a Ball at Olivia’s Lodge. Locals were already calling it the ‘Lytholympics’. There would be something to suit every pocket, and people would flock to the Duchy from all over Cordonia now that the King had announced that it was going ahead despite the attempt on Anton’s life.

Olivia was waiting for him in his private lounge, her bags packed ready to leave for her home duchy. She looked tired but a little less pale. Liam went up to her and she offered her cheek for a kiss. He was tempted to hug her, but held back. He didn’t want to crowd her. Instead he took her hands in his and squeezed them.

‘Chin up Livvy, it looks increasingly likely that Anton won’t be in a position to complete his challenge’ She smiled wanly.

‘I wish I could be certain’ she said fiercely. ‘Perhaps I should pay one last visit to my aunt before we go’

‘Only if you feel up to it’ Liam said softly ‘But if you think it would bring you closure, I’m right behind you. We have an hour or two to spare.’ She took a deep breath and stood straight.

‘I think I am, but I’d like to talk to her alone. You can come, but stay outside. We can take the limo to the cottage and then go straight off to Lythikos’

‘Of course. I’ll let Bastien know’

Half an hour or so later, Olivia sat in her aunt’s lounge, waiting for Lucretia. She appeared, but Olivia remained seated.

‘Niece’ the older woman said, sitting in an easy chair beside the fireplace. ‘Will you take tea?’

‘No thankyou’ she said shortly ‘A glass of water will be sufficient. I hope I can trust you not to add any herbal extracts to it’

‘Of course not’ her aunt snorted ‘You’re mother to the royal heir, and Nevrakis only hope of going forward into the future. I did what I did to ensure your wellbeing’ Olivia raised her eyebrow to that but didn’t reply. ‘So what do you want, my dear?’

‘I won’t beat around the bush. I need to know if Anton is likely to recover his senses and make his claim to the throne’

‘Is that all?’

‘Isn’t it enough?’ A maid came in with a tray and set it down on the coffee table. Olivia’s eyes flicked to the teapot and a plate of Lythican spiced cookies.

‘Bring some tap water would you?’ her aunt demanded ‘I’ll pour my own tea’ She did so, and Olivia gritted her teeth waiting. The maid came back with water, and Lucretia sipped her tea.

‘He’ll not recover’ she replied at last. ‘He’s paralysed, I take it?’ Olivia nodded ‘He will remain so, but how long he lingers depends on his constitution. Most who have been – treated in this way never speak again, and generally the poison causes a lingering death.’

‘Generally?’ Olivia asked

‘Oh don’t worry my dear - what I meant was that death is certain, but how swiftly it comes varies - as I said.’

‘Will you reveal what herb it is?’

‘Oh no dear, to be frank I don’t know. Only my herbalist does, and even the identity of that person is unknown to me, as is traditional. You are sadly lacking in certain aspects of Lythican folklore, my girl. But don’t fret, all will be passed on to you in the fullness of time. I look forward to seeing you ascend the throne’

‘I’ll not ask for that’ Olivia said, thin lipped ‘I don’t wish to be Queen. What I do want is that Liam is happy, and he has agreed that by me bearing the heir, he will be content’ Lucretia frowned

‘Not want to be Queen? Are you insane, girl? If you just act like a human incubator, who’s to say he won’t take your child away? He could discard you once he has his heir, and take another woman. Who’s to say he hasn’t made the same arrangement with other women, and promised them the same?’ Olivia’s eyes grew wide.

‘Liam’s not like that’ she said in a low voice ‘He’s not like his father – he’s gentle and caring’

‘Do you think he’ll stay the same with the weight of the crown on his head?’ Lucretia scoffed ‘Power corrupts, and he is his father’s son. He was not raised to be King, and he has barely had time to adjust to his new role. Demand to be the Queen you should be, Olivia. Hold the King to ransom – refuse him your child. Shut yourself off, close the borders of Lythikos or flee to exile if he refuses.’ She leaned forward, stabbing a forefinger at her niece to make her point. ‘You know you would be Queen if he becomes incapable of ruling, and that would be so very easy for me to arrange’

‘Are you threatening to do the same to Liam as you did to Anton?’ Olivia gasped. ‘What sort of monster are you?’

‘The monster that will fulfil the ambition of our family’ she replied ‘If you won’t make sure of your accession to the throne, I will’

‘I’ll see to it that you don’t’ Olivia hissed ‘You won’t meddle in my life any longer, you old witch’ Lucretia sat back and smiled, and Olivia rose with dignity and left the room.

---------

Liam was waiting for her outside the cottage. She was tight lipped and pale with rage.

‘Lets get out of this place’ she said ‘Let’s go to Lythikos’ She made for the car, and Liam followed her. She sat back in the seat, letting her head drop back against the leather headrest and closing her eyes, her hand going protectively to her belly. Liam sat back too, but remained silent for a while. He wanted to know what had her riled up, and the sooner the better, to help her to calm down. As the limo swept out of the Palace gates onto the main road, he leaned forward to close the security screen between them and the driver and switched off the intercom, a red light showing its status. He turned to Olivia as she opened her eyes and looked at him in query.

‘Tell me what she said, Livvy. No-one can hear us, it’s just us’ Olivia swallowed and turned her head to him.

‘You need to put her under maximum security’ she said, her gaze urgent ‘No contact with anyone outside, not even her lawyer. She got a message out though her before and god knows what other tricks she has up her sleeve’

‘Why Livvy, what danger does she pose? Can she have Anton wake up?’

‘No’ she said shortly. ‘Death is certain, though she couldn’t say when’

‘She said something about the end of the week’ Liam replied. He inclined his head and reached out for her hand. ‘That’s not all, is it?’ She shook her head

‘It’s only fair to tell you that she threatened to do the same to you’ Liam felt the colour drain from his face, and she made a hollow laugh ‘After all, if anything happens to you now, I become Queen’

‘You said you didn’t want that’ Liam said levelly. She tutted in exasperation

‘I don’t.’ she said, and raised her green eyes to his ‘I only want you to be happy’ He took a deep breath.

‘What if you were Queen?’ he asked ‘would she back off then?’ Olivia blinked, and stared at him.

‘What if I…’ her voice trailed off ‘I - I don’t know’ she said simply, then started again ‘What do you mean?’

‘If I made you Queen, she’d have no reason to have me assassinated’

‘I – who knows what goes on in that bitch’s mind? But Liam…’ she protested.

‘If it would put your mind at rest, stop you worrying, I’d do it’ he said ‘Why not? You can do as much or as little as you like, and we’d be together to bring up our child. When Leo abdicated, I expected to be forced into marrying Madeleine, with a Cordonian arrangement.’

‘I can’t believe you just said that’ Olivia said, aghast ‘After all we’ve been through’ She turned away from him, biting her knuckle. He was sure that if they’d not been in the limo on their way to Lythikos, she would have slapped him or stormed out.

‘Hear me out, Livvy’ he said ‘You’ve – well you’ve changed since you fell pregnant. You’re – you’re softer.’ He struggled for words. ‘I don’t look at other women the same. Or men, for that matter. You’re carrying my child. I just want to keep you both safe.’ She turned to him, fire in her eyes

‘So I’m just a human incubator to you – that’s what Lucretia said’

‘No Livvy, that’s not it’ he said ‘It’s more than that. We have a connection, always have had, but Father tried his best to break it. Now he’s gone, I realise. I’d never do anything to hurt you’ he said.

‘You say that now’ she said ‘But you have a country to run. I’ll never be more important than that’

‘Then help me to do it’ he said simply. She stared at him

‘I never wanted that’ she said ‘Leo was going to be King, and we – I always thought that we’d have some sort of relationship, even if I was just one of many’ He sighed

‘And I never expected to be King, you know that. Livvy, you and Drake are my oldest friends. It looks like Drake is involved with Riley – I don’t know how long he’ll stay. He came back from America for me, I can’t ask him to sacrifice his happiness for me’

‘And you can ask me?’ she said

‘But you said you wanted me to be happy’ he pointed out. ‘What would make me happy is to have a loving family, and we’re halfway there. Being King is – well of course it will be my duty for my country to come first – but whatever is left over is yours, and our child’s’ He smiled ‘I won’t have time for lovers, I’ve realised that.’

‘What if I want lovers?’ she said shortly. His face dropped. She felt cruel for asking him, but the question bubbled up and was out of her mouth before she could stop it – typical Nevrakis hot headedness, she told herself.

‘I would hope I would be enough – but if you did…’ he looked out of the window at the passing scenery. ‘I don’t know Livvy, it’s too early to say. Who knows what life will bring.’ She relented, taking his hand, wanting to banish the hurt in his eyes.

‘I’m sorry, that was callous of me. We should focus on the baby, and what he or she needs. I think we’ll both have enough on our plates being parents.’ She paused. ‘Liam, have you made any arrangement like this with anyone else?’ he stared at her

‘No, of course not’ he replied, shocked.

‘I have to ask. Lucretia brought it up’ His jaw tightened at her words.

‘She’s been pouring poison into your ears. Just what else did she say?’ Olivia closed her eyes in thought. She related everything to him as the limo made its way along the increasingly steep roads. Anger rose in him as he heard what the old woman thought of him.

‘I’d never take your child away from you.’ He said earnestly. ‘I’m determined not to follow my father’s example. I can have Lucretia locked away in maximum security if it would make you feel better. My feeling is that she would do anything to get you on the throne, and probably more to keep you there. I’m superfluous to her. She only cares about getting your family on the throne, with or without me.’ Olivia nodded reluctantly

‘I know. Once I was on the throne, who’s to say she wouldn’t try to have you assassinated?’

‘Livvy’ he said, taking her hand and squeezing it. ‘You know how many attempts there have been over the years. If it wasn’t her, it would be someone else. I’m still at risk no matter what. At least if she was locked away it would make it difficult for her and she’d be a known threat’ Olivia twisted her hands in her lap and sighed

‘I’m exhausted’ she said ‘I’m going to try and get some sleep. We can talk later.’

‘Okay Livvy. But I’m serious – I’d make you my Queen to make both our lives easier’  A faint smile crossed Olivia’s lips as she settled back.

‘I don’t doubt your sincerity, Liam’ she said ‘I’ll think about it’

@sirbeepsalot @stopforamoment @drakesensworld @katedrakeohd​ @texaskitten30​ @be-still-my-aching-heart @hopefulmoonobject @dcbbw @classylady1234 @rainbowsinthestorm @kimmiedoo5 @bascmve01  @ibldw-main @addictedtodrakefanfic @trappedinfandoms @ravenpuff02

[jardin-des-anges]

Muses + Short Mun Bio

My name is Lana, and I’m the mun of this blog.  I’m a high school student who primarily writes horror and mystery stories, with emphasis on lying, manipulation, and physical and psychological torment, but I enjoy simpler, more slice-of-life stories, so long as there’s a good plot.  My pronouns are she / they.

Muses are right below the cut!!

Adrian Michaels - A dancer performing alongside her sister all across America.  She’s rather shy, but with her performances, she’s found herself becoming a bit more outgoing.  She normally wears darker colors.  Her resolve is stronger than it seems, and she’s normally the voice of reason in dire situations. 24 years old || Female || She / they || 5′ 7″ || African-American || Bisexual

Bella Michaels - A singer performing alongside her sister all across America.  She’s outgoing and loves people, and wants to gain friends and fans all over the country.  She wears brighter colors.  She’s often rash and impulsive, but keeps herself from lashing out at others.  Her entire life, she’s enjoyed sewing, and makes both her and her sister’s costumes. 24 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 8″ || African-American || Heterosexual

Caden Contiman - A former college student who dropped out due to a variety of factors, mainly emotional stress.  He lives with his parents and isn’t allowed to leave the house, but he sneaks out at night and stays out until dawn before heading home to sleep all day.  He studied psychology in college, which has led to an almost intimate knowledge of the human mind and an ability to read almost any emotion and action.  He’s somewhat cruel, and tends to play mean-spirited pranks on everyone who catches his eye.  He doesn’t allow anyone to know anything personal about him, but always pries into others’ lives and minds. 19 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 10″ || Welsh || Homosexual

Casey Allman - A strange writer who works himself near death.  He’s believed to be the only living member of his family, and spent quite a bit of time in the limelight during the collapse of the Allman family, which was spread out over three years.  He’s antisocial, and freezes up if confronted by another person.  The only thing that seems to bring him any joy anymore is his writing.  When describing things, he goes into way more detail than is necessary.  He has several bizarre quirks that tend to freak out the people around him. 22 years old || Male || He / they || 5′ 11″ || Korean-American || Homosexual

Charlie Patten - An assassin who travels the world, learning about every place he goes on every mission.  While on missions, he poses as a tourist, and when the job’s done, he doesn’t bother to stick around for much longer.  He’s rather confident, bordering on cocky, and can rarely be swayed to do something if money isn’t involved.  When he’s not on the job, he’s a pretty sweet and approachable guy, if always on-guard and somewhat suspicious of everyone. 24 years old || Male || He / him || 6′ 1″ || Canadian || Bisexual

Christopher Simon - A waiter living in a large city, having to work multiple jobs to support himself and his younger brother.  He’s quite cynical, which is different from his more optimistic, sweet little brother.  He only does things for money, even if it’s unethical or dangerous.  His constant struggle to survive has spawned a distaste for frivolous things or luxuries, seeing them as a waste of money.  Despite being so cynical (and, for the most part, tired), he completely changes when around his brother, washing away to show a happier, much less tense.  He despises his appearance and avoids mirrors and other reflective surfaces. 25 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 9″ || British || Homosexual

“Cian” - A mysterious chemist living on the edge of a small town in Ireland, calling himself an alchemist.  He has a love of plants, wild animals, and nature in general, a love only heightened by the dense forest behind his home.  He’s very quiet and somewhat secretive, but passionate about his work and loves to talk about it.  He can be quite blunt or uncooperative at times, but he does enjoy company, especially when the discussion turns to chemicals. 25 years old || Male || He / him || 6′ 6″ || Irish || Homosexual

Ciara McCormack - A ruthless queen whose family has ruled a small part of southern Ireland for generations.  Having been raised with a cutthroat mentality and trained to eliminate all competition, Ciara has grown up to have that exact approach to everything in her life, making her a fearsome opponent to say the least.  She’s quick to cut out anything she doesn’t need, which includes banishing or even executing anyone who even shows any chance of being a danger to her reign. 27 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 9″ || Irish || Heterosexual

Corianna Sutton - An assistant investigator to her older cousin Evian, despite not fully believing in ghosts.  She has a bit of an obsession with fire, which is shown in the burn scars and bandages covering the right side of her body.  She’s cynical but still friendly and approachable, although her demeanor can come off as bizarre.  She drinks often, and keeps a flask painted with the lesbian flag hooked on her belt. 28 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 6″ || German || Homosexual

Daniel Hirsch - A teenage street urchin and graffiti artist who is almost never seen without his sister.  He’s annoying and troublemaking, but not without a kind heart.  He doesn’t find it easy to make friends, but considers that unimportant, knowing that he’ll always have his twin by his side.  He’s more verbally restrained than his sister, but just as irritating as she is. 14 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 4″ || German || Bisexual

Evian Sutton - A paranormal investigator who explores all sorts of “haunted” places, recording them for her YouTube channel.  She doesn’t always carry around all of her equipment, but she makes sure to keep a recorder on her at all times.  She’s unapproachable and abrasive, and isn’t very friendly towards anyone other than her younger cousin Corianna.  Normally, when she’s approached by someone else, she’ll simply brush them off with a few crass words.  She’s normally very uninterested when it comes to most things, but the paranormal piques her interest and gets her truly passionate. 29 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 9″ || German || Asexual

Grace Hirsch - A teenage street urchin and graffiti artist who is almost never seen without her brother.  She’s a loudmouth with little control over what she says, and she often instigates fights, even without meaning to.  She has a teddy bear she carries with her everywhere, with rips and patches all over it, that she considers the closest thing to her aside from her brother.  Every possession she owns is stored inside of a large backpack she carries slung over one shoulder. 14 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 4″ || German || Heterosexual

Kai “Shōakuma” Misaki - A high school student often accompanied outside of school by his loyal falcon Chieko.  He’s social and charismatic, with an ability to capture almost anyone’s attention with his wild stories.  He’s absolutely fascinated by history, especially religion, as well as the supernatural.  Despite his eccentricities, he’s a good person, with a strong moral compass and a warm, kind heart. 17 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 2″ || Japanese || Bisexual

Kunimasa Sakurai - A young man living with his family while attending the local college.  He’s stuck to a strict fitness regimen for years, and has a passion for physical health, believing it links back to everything in one’s life.  He holds family and friendship close to his heart, and would die to protect the people he loves. 20 years old || Male || He / they || 5′ 6″ || African-Japanese || Asexual

Landon Garrison - A bounty hunter residing on the deep web, hidden behind the pseudonym “Black Mask”.  For a price, he can find anyone’s personal information and give it to his client.  He doesn’t socialize much, preferring to hide indoors on his computer.  When he is accompanied by someone else, he’s notably tense, and refuses to do anything that can make him seem vulnerable. 24 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 11″ || British || Bisexual

Logan Garrison - A talented painter who has somehow lacked emotions since birth.  He’s managed to learn how to adapt to any situation and show whatever emotions he needs to, comparing it to painting, and despite his inability to feel empathy, he’s able to sympathize with others, and knows right from wrong.  He’s extremely protective of his brother, Landon, and fears for his safety, knowing the dark web can be dangerous.  Most of his life is taken up by his art. 24 years old || Male || He / him || 6′ 1″ || British || Asexual

Lyrica Jansen - A wealthy heiress with a high net worth.  Her older sister vanished mysteriously, causing her to become the sole heir to the family fortune.  She looks dangerous and unkind, but despite her icy exterior, she’s kind and welcoming to others, but not without many threats towards those who disobey her.  Her clothing and jewelry are elaborate and she’s quite tall, making her somewhat intimidating to be around. 19 years old || Female || She / her || 6′ 3″ || Dutch || Homosexual

Maysilee Patten - A former soldier on the search for the people who destroyed her home.  She’s a sweet person, but her fuse is unbelievably short, and she’s easily sent into a rage.  She’s skilled with nearly every kind of weapon, her preferred weapon being knives.  Her loyalty is unmatched, but so is her ability to hold a grudge. 22 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 10″ || Irish || Pansexual

Minka Himura - A sarcastic high school student working part-time at her family’s butcher shop, deli, and restaurant.  She loves to play pranks on her family and classmates, some of which have dangerous consequences.  Although she’s quite mean-spirited, she has a soft spot for her siblings, and is a hard worker. 16 years old || Female || She / they || 5′ 3″ || Polish-Japanese || Questioning

Myla Crimm - A doll-like teenager with a knack for collecting random items.  They don’t speak much, and prefer to blend into the background.  She resides in her childhood home, which is now decrepit after the death of her mother.  Because they live alone, they have quite a bit of experience and can take care of themself just fine.  He’s levelheaded, but curious, and is aware of how off-putting he can sometimes appear to others. 18 years old || Genderfluid || She / he / they || 5′ 4″ || American || Bisexual

Onacona Pierce - A high school student and the head of his school’s music club.  He’s a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to instruments, playing most, if not all, with skill, but he prefers the guitar.  He’s easygoing and fun to be around, with an unexpected love of horror movies and literature.  They have an online presence where they perform music.  Currently, he mostly performs covers, but he’s been starting to write more and more original work. 17 years old || Male || He / they || 5′ 11″ || Native American || Heterosexual

Reiko Wakabayashi - A hardworking surgeon traveling overseas to perform surgeries for the less fortunate.  She was a child prodigy, and as such, had a lot of pressure put on her to succeed; pressure that has resulted in a constant need to do well and please everyone else.  Although she’s quite quiet, she’s fine with large groups, and loves to have her ear talked off by someone who’s passionate about someone.  She cares deeply for children, women, and weak or ill people. 27 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 6″ || Japanese || Asexual

“Rusty” - A runaway fleeing the law and their past.  He’s plagued by several problems with his health, including blindness, an extremely low weight, and a whole host of diseases.  Because of these problems, he tries to remain in one place for as long as he can to restore his stamina, but he refuses to stay somewhere for longer than two weeks.  He resembles a skeleton.  They’re constantly paranoid, avoiding human contact as much as possible and relying only on their own intuition and four working senses to help them. 25 years old || Demiboy || He / they || 5′ 9″ || Korean-American || Pansexual

Sam Fields - A mechanic working at their family-owned autobody shop.  They spend most of their time holed away in the garage, hard at work, smeared with oil and gasoline.  Most of their skeleton is metal and most of their skin is covered in burn scars due to a past accident.  They’re social and warm, and very physically affectionate.  They can be reckless, even if they’re warned about dangers. 25 years old || Non-binary || They / them || 5′ 7″ || American || Bisexual

Shira Hadley - A pickpocket who’s normally only found darting through crowds, stealing trinkets and jewelry, and before someone can realize something’s gone, she’s already vanished.  She had her vocal cords cut as a teenager, resulting in her being completely unable to communicate outside of noises, half-uttered syllables, and gestures.  Due to her constant fear of getting caught, she tends to stick to shadows, and is extremely paranoid when encountered by anyone. 21 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 7″ || Dutch || Grey-Asexual

Volya Orlov - A DJ who’s famous at several different clubs.  He’s rebellious and tough, but mostly friendly towards people on his side.  A bizarre incident has altered his body to the point where he emits sparks when he gets emotional, which is why many of his friends call him “Sparkplug” or “Sparky”.  He’s often spotted alone, but doesn’t mind company. 21 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 9″ || Russian || Heterosexual

William Simon - A child living with his older brother, who’s struggling to make ends meet.  He recognizes the sacrifices his brother makes for him and wants to help, but is stopped and always told not to grow up too quickly.  He often stays at his brother’s main workplace, a small cafe and diner, where he sits in the breakroom, coloring and talking with the other workers when they come in for their own breaks.  He’s friendly, but cautious, having been taught to always be careful around others. 12 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 2″ || British || Asexual

Zenjiro Himura - A peculiar man whose family has owned and operated a combination butcher shop, deli, and restaurant in the heart of Kotohira, Kagawa for generations.  He’s the eldest of sixteen siblings, all living and working with their mother.  He’s approachable and friendly, but has a knack for getting excited over extremely macabre and disturbing things.  As the oldest brother, he has an instinct to protect and care for anyone younger or weaker than he is. 26 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 9″ || Japanese || Pansexual

[ranger-report]

Thoughts On: HEXEN II

After developing two fantastic games utilizing the id tech 1 engine -- also known as the DOOM engine -- Raven Software found themselves once again at the forefront of technological advancement when their neighbors id Software released a little game called Quake. Using a brand new, fully 3D rendered engine, Quake revolutionized first person shooters and PC gaming graphics. After the successes of Heretic and Hexen, Raven was deep in the throes of developing a third game in their dark fantasy series, this one titled Hecatomb. Sadly, this game never came to pass, as John Romero (who’d had heavily helped develop the previous two games) left id Software to found his own company, abandoning Hecatomb in the process. At this point, Activision Publishing acquired Raven and the rights to distribute future games they developed. Activision told Raven that they wanted to see the Heretic and Hexen games split into two separate franchises as both games were different in gameplay styles. So rather than a final third game to wrap up a trilogy, ideas from Hecatomb were then split between Hexen II and Heretic II. While this yielded mixed results, we’ll look first at Hexen II, a game that was highly anticipated upon release, and whose legacy is an uneven yield.

The story this time around is that the third and final Serpent Rider, Eidolon, has taken over the word of Thyrion. Separated into four lands, Thyrion is infested with Eidolon’s minions, and it’s up to one of four warriors to take him down: the Crusader, Assassin, Necromancer, and Paladin. What’s neat about this premise is that each of the warriors comes from one of the four lands --  Blackmarsh, Mazaera, Thysis, and Septimus, respectively. And each land has a different cultural theme -- Medieval European, Mesoamerican, Ancient Egyptian, and Greco-Roman, also respectively. Also very interesting about this setup is that each land is being ruled by one of the Four Fucking Horsemen of the Apocalypse -- Famine, Death, Pestilence, and War also also respectively. Off the jump there is a lot going on here, a lot more detail than the previous two games about the worlds and what is happening. This works to the game’s credit in attempting to set up a distinct world for this entry in the game series, but somehow, it falls a little flat. In previous games the player encounters a variety of monsters and enemies that all carry over from hub to hub, level to level, giving the player a chance to learn their attacks and be aware of how to defend themselves. There’s also overarching aesthetics that maintain a steady, immersive feel to the worlds presented. Hexen II’s decision to split the hubs into unique lands works against it, as each land as its own unique enemies and aesthetic and architecture. Just as the player has a chance to get used to enemy tactics and tricks (thanks to some stellar AI work), those strategies are abandoned as the next world is loaded up with new enemies and new look, throwing the player off and breaking the immersion. As much as I tried to get into it, what it ends up feeling like is the standard issue Water World, Fire World, Sand World, etc of old NES platformers. This is not to say that the worlds aren’t good looking, however -- Raven modified the shit out of id tech 2′s textures and polygonal aspects, crafting a still-gorgeous game which takes full advantage of the technology.

Progression here is also slightly different from the previous Hexen, but is a very welcome course change. Each character class has different skills and abilities, and as you play through the game, you’ll gain experience and level up. Returning from the previous game are the fact that each class has their own four weapons, using 1) no mana ammo 2) blue mana 3) green mana and 4) both mana. As usual, the fourth weapons need to be assembled from pieces in order to be used, but what overpowered destruction they bring. My favorite class is Crusader, whose skills and weapons focus on defensive measures, but his ultimate weapon is the Light bringer. It fires a steady stream of what can basically be called pure light, burning through any enemy in a matter of seconds, and the drain on Mana is negligible. It’s possible to reach the max level of 12 through the game, and each character receives a new passive ability at levels 3 and 6. It’s always nice to notice that you’ve gained a level during the adventure, but it usually happens well after the fact. I had a difficult time hearing the audio cue to let me know that I’d leveled up and now had extra health, or new ability. I had to go into the revamped inventory screen, which now shows key quest items as well as the current items in your pocket.

In fact, Hexen II’s biggest immediate suffering is that there seems to be a lack of feedback. There’s little in the way of gratifying sound or feel whenever your attacks land, which is doubly frustrating when most attacks are ranged and as far away from the very deadly monsters. Up close and personal melee attacks seem to have a weird range, sometimes being able to hit at different distances, but it’s hard to know exactly how and when that’s going to happen. The inventory system is fine, objects work they way they’re supposed to. Most of the problems come from the early usage of id tech 2. Quake is not a game designed around interactivity, despite Hexen II being the exact opposite. id tech 2 takes away the Action button, so you walk into panels or switches to operate them, no button mashing required. There’s also no minimap, so navigating become a trying issue. But projectiles in this game don’t seem to have an impact; there’s no oomph to it, similarly to Quake’s monster who rarely stagger when hit. This is a problem because multiple times will occur when you’re firing rapidly at damage-sponge enemies, wondering if you’ve hit them enough to count, counting each shot, watching your steadily diminishing mana fall away, waiting hoping praying that this isn’t another time where you’re going to be forced to use the melee weapon, and then they are suddenly dead and you didn’t know they were close to death. It’s not as frustrating in the early levels, where you’re Level 1 and Everything Hurts and Everything Takes A Lot To Kill. But by Level 9, there are bigger, badder, more horrifying enemies who soak up so much damage that it feels like a Thoroughly Epic Duel every single time. This, perhaps, is meant to make up for the fact that -- unlike Hexen which sent waves of hordes of squads of monsters at the player at once -- Hexen II lobbies much fewer enemies at a time. In fact, I’m hard pressed to remember any time I fought more than five at a time, and even that is a generous number. But since each of the enemies are so much more resilient, anything more than three becomes an exercise in dodging and weaving and running for cover in order to get in a few shots and quaff a drink from a healing elixir, because these fuckers hit, hit hard, and hurt harder. Especially the Four Horsemen, who are so intense and difficult that I was convinced for a moment that the game was building up to a boss run near the end that would have been insurmountable. Fortunately, thank fuck, there wasn’t. And yet, while the increased difficulty of the enemies comes with the bonus of impressive AI (most notable in the Were-Jaguar warriors, who leap and roll and attack like real human opponents), it also comes with the downside of empty stretches of pathfinding. Where in Hexen enemies would respawn with abandon in an effort to wear down the player, Hexen II seemingly keeps a limit on the number of enemies involved on a map. Once they’re dead, they’re dead, which then makes wandering around afterwards an exercise in frustrated boredom searching for clues and hints to the puzzles.

Speaking of which, while feedback and aesthetics are weak points, if there’s anything that the game truly bounces players out of the game, it’s the puzzles. Blackmarsh is host to one of the most infamous puzzle glitches in the series, possibly in all RPG gaming, the solution to which is based on how your character enters a particular courtyard. Depending on which turn the player takes, this will then spawn a clue in one of three locations based on your entry point, along with the necessary quest item in one of three locations after gathering the clue. However, the clue itself can be accidentally destroyed. It can also be missed entirely, and if you don’t find the clue you can’t go directly to the quest item location knowing the solution -- it can only be solved in the order of clue, location, item. So if you somehow miss or even destroy the clue itself -- and Hexen II is rife with destructible items holding hidden mana and health so chances are you’re breaking a lot of shit -- you’re out of luck. I discovered this far, far too late, and had to start the whole game over because I didn’t have a recent enough save file that I could utilize to go back to. Thankfully, this was fairly early on in the game, but it serves as a brutal low point that comes back to haunt the player in the Egyptian levels, where a maddeningly opaque puzzle involving time travel and astrology nearly drove me to a walkthrough and early onset baldness. Elsewhere, puzzles are item-based rather than key-based like in Hexen, which revolve around gathering items, transporting them to a location, and then receiving either a new item or a key. Sometimes these items need to be altered or transmutated; the game is questionably vague about what is necessary sometimes. Fortunately, despite the veiled hints, most fetch quests are simple enough to solve. But the lack of enemies giving way to empty hallways and corridors makes those fetch quests empty and tedious, moreso than they ought to be.

Hexen II isn’t a bad game by any means. It’s very much a product of 1997. New technology, advancements in PC gaming, experimentation with new control schemes and movements, a lot of games at the time featured both innovation and frustration in equal measure. Hexen II is a solid game at its core, with great direction from the returning team, a great soundtrack, fantastic graphics and sound design, and RPG progression. But all of these upgrades come at the cost of a more simplistic version of Hexen that is somehow trying to have the straightforward run-n-gun gameplay of Heretic and the brutal dungeon crawl of Hexen. Puzzles suffer, shooting mechanics suffer, and immersion suffers. What it ends up being is Hexen Lite, not as good as the original, but fine on its own. Would I go back and play it? Sure, at some point I’d love to, but it didn’t draw me in the same way that Hexen did, not even as much as Heretic. But it’s a Quake engine game (which I’m a sucker for) and a 1997 game (which I’m a sucker for, goddammit), and despite its flaws it represents a moment in gaming which I can’t help but be nostalgic for. Your mileage may vary, but be advised that there are other, bigger, bolder versions of this experience that Hexen II has inspired, and while this may have inspired quite a few, it hasn’t aged as well as its predecessors.

Next up: we close off the Thoughts On series of Heretic/Hexen games with Heretic II. And if Hexen II was a different experience in order to differentiate itself as a unique series, Heretic II goes above and beyond to set itself apart....for better and for worse.

[eringeosphere]

Raised by wolves!AU Ch3

Chapter three on AO3

xiv.

For the rest of his life, Jason will divide his memories into Before and After.

Things he knows from Before:

He loves his sister. Thalia is the best. She reads to him, and plays games with him, and comforted him when he hurt his lip.

He loves his mom. She’s not there as much as Thalia, but she has a pretty smile and always smells nice.

Jason is happy. Why would he not be?

Then, one day, his mum bundles him and Thalia into their car and tells them that they’re going on a drive. The drive is looooong. Long enough for him to fall asleep to the gentle rocking of the car.

He wakes up to Thalia nudging him in his side.

“Come on, sleepy. We’re here.”

Jason grumbles wordlessly at her, batting away her hands. Jason lets Thalia undo his seatbelt, but stubbornly climbs out of the car himself, his feeting hitting the dirt in a small car park and sending up clouds of dust. He takes in the expanse of trees and bushes in his new surroundings and realises that he has no idea where they are. He doesn’t recognise anything here.

Jason’s mom comes around the side of the car and grabs one of his hands. “I thought it’d be nice to go somewhere a bit different, for a change of scenery. What do you think, Jason?”

“S’nice,” Jason mumbles. It is nice, with trees bigger than any that he's seen before, stretching up and up towards the blue, blue sky.

“Good,” his mom says, and starts walking in the direction of a path that leads away from the small collection of parked cars. Thalia runs to catch up and trails a step or so behind them as Jason’s mom guides him along

They haven’t walked very far along the path when his mom suddenly stops and throws a hand onto her forehead. “Oh, I’m so forgetful. I completely forgot to grab the food out of the trunk of the car.”

She turns to Thalia, who’s got what Jason thinks is an unhappy look on her face. Jason can’t always tell if Thalia’s unhappy because her unhappy face makes her look like she wants to hit something, but Thalia often looks like she wants to hit something. He’s pretty sure he’s got it right this time, though.

“Why don’t you go back to the car and grab the picnic basket, Thalia dear?”

“But mum -”

“Go on, Thalia.”

Thalia scowls. “Fine,” she mutters, taking the car keys out of their mom’s hand, then turns and stomps off in the direction of the car. Jason watches her go, his stomach churning like the time he’d drank some milk that had gone bad.

Then his mother starts to speak.

“Juno Regina, Goddess of Marriage -”

She gets no further because there’s a lady in front of them who wasn’t there before. Tall and beautiful and somehow terrifying. His mother talks with her, but Jason isn’t paying attention to the words, too busy staring at the lady’s robe - a brilliant blinding white that glows.

Then the lady crouches down in front of Jason, and the smile on her face is anything but kind. Jason takes a small step back. He doesn’t want to be here, he wants to leave, to go home. She reaches out, her fingers brush Jason’s forehead, and then -

xv.

Jason wakes up.

The ground beneath him is cold and hard. Carefully, Jason pushes himself upright, wobbling a little on slightly unsteady legs. He’s standing in what might have once been a house, but the ceiling is missing and the walls are no more than half-fallen over piles of stone bricks. Jason turns in a slow circle.

“Mom?” he calls.

No reply.

“Sis? Thalia?” he calls, a little louder.

It’s quiet. So quiet. Jason starts searching the house, looking for his family hiding amongst the ruined building. He checks every room and finds no one. Finally, he finds a gap in the walls which leads to the outside and Jason staggers out into the sunshine, blinking back tears.

There’s a wolf waiting for him.

xvi.

The wolf introduces herself as Lupa.

She tells Jason that he has been brought here because one of his parents was not human. Because one of them is a God. Because this is where Roman demigods are left when their parents wish them to be trained by Lupa and her pack.

Jason doesn’t care about any of it, and flat out refuses to go with her.

“No,” Jason tells her. “I don’t want to. The tall pretty lady took me away - my mum and sister will be looking for me.”

The wolf stares back. They are not coming, little demigod. I will be here when you realise that.

Jason swallows and doesn’t say anything. The wolf is wrong. Thalia will come.

xvii.

Thalia doesn’t come.

xviii.

Technically, Jason does not agree to go with Lupa so much as, after two days of no food or water, he has no way of resisting when Lupa plucks him up from the ground by the back of his shirt and carries him away. Jason allows his eyes to drift shut as Lupa lopes through the trees and he slips halfway into sleep, only partly aware of the passage of time. He's roused from his sort-of-nap when he's deposited gently onto a pile of ferns.

Jason forces gummy eyelids to open and promptly jolts backwards from the wolf that's right in his face.

The wolf, who has a greyer coat and a wider face than Lupa, lets out an amused sounding huff. Is this him, then Lupa? He doesn't look like much.

Jason licks cracked lips. "What were you expecting, exactly?"

Someone a little taller, for a start.

Jason scowls, because that was rude. "I'm two and a half, I've barely started growing yet."

Be nice, Avitus, a second voice chimes in, and Jason focuses beyond the large wolf in his immediate field of vision to more of his surroundings.

Half a dozen wolves are lounging around on the open ground in front of a tall set of cliffs. A waterfall crashes down the rockface and into a stream that burbles away into the trees. Jason can see a small cave a little way up the cliff face. The whole place feels wild in a way that makes Jason think that humans - people - haven’t visited here in a very long time.

Welcome to my pack, Jason Grace. This is our home base, so to speak. We return here for some of the winter months, and for some periods of training. Lupa gives Jason the barest bones of an explanation, and really hits him then, that this is actually happening.

His family had decided to give him away. He’s not going back.

Jason's eyes burn. He closes his eyes and rubs desperately at them, but his throat goes tight and he's unable to stop the tears that spill down his cheeks. A warm, furry body presses against his side. Jason buries his face into the wolf's coat and sobs. The wolf, Latia, as he later finds out, allows Jason to cry until he runs out of tears and energy and Jason curls up into a ball, utterly numb.

On that first day, the wolves feed Jason a tiny square of something that they call ambrosia, that tastes like the pancakes Thalia sometimes makes, fresh off the griddle and covered in maple syrup. It burns on the way down, but he wakes the next morning from a deep, dreamless sleep, filled to the brim with energy.

The wolves put that energy to good use. Jason can barely keep up with them when they run, and he rarely has any energy in the evenings to do more than eat whatever food the wolves give him and promptly fall asleep. The weather turns warmer, summer fully sinking its dry fangs into the west coast of the states. The nights are hot and the days longer and hotter, but Jason only ever seems to feel numb. Like his heart froze over sometime during the nights he spent waiting for a family that never came and never managed to thaw again.

The weeks pass in a repetitive cycle of running, or sometimes playing a weird sort of hide-and-seek, with the occasional rest day scattered amongst them. Jason stops thinking about his mom and Thalia so much. Stops thinking so much, period. It seems easier that way.

He doesn’t notice the concerned glances that the wolves exchange over his head, but he does notice when the pack doesn’t return to the cave for several days, instead continuing to roam further and further north.

“Are we going somewhere in particular?” Jason eventually ask Lupa.

Lupa nudges him gently with her snout. There have been whispers of a certain breed of monsters spawning in unusual numbers. We’re heading elsewhere whilst they’re dealt with.

Jason accepts the explanation with a wordless nod. Two days after that, the wolves leave Jason to his own devices for a day, providing that he didn’t stray too far from the small lake that they pack had slept near the previous night.

Later, Jason will look back on this moment and wonder exactly what the wolves thought was going to happen when they left him on his own, because Jason’s track record at staying out of trouble when left alone is only marginally better than his cousin’s. And that’s not saying much.

xix.

“What are you doing?”

xx.

This is After.

At the entirely unexpected words from right behind him, Jason shrieks, startles, and loses his balance on the log overhanging a small stream. A pair of hands latch onto the back of his shirt, but it’s too late, and two boys fall into the water with a twin pair of splashes.

Jason panics a little when he hits the water, because he doesn’t actually know how to swim. His mum had never taught him, and Thalia hadn’t liked it very much either. But before he has a chance to do more than flail a little, he’s hauled upwards into the sunshine.

Jason sputters and scrabbles around with his feet for a few moments before he manages to plant his feet on the bottom of the stream.

“I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

Jason blinks. Reaches out and pokes a finger into the cheek of the dark-haired, green-eyed boy standing waist-deep in the water in front of him.

“You’re real.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Jason cringes, because that was rude, wasn’t it? But the boy just laughs, a bright smile spreading across his face. The other boy lets go of Jason’s shirt and takes a step back.

“Last time I checked!”

“Sorry - I’ve not. I haven’t seen any people -” wait, are the wolves people? “ - kids for a while.” A hot flush spreads across Jason’s cheeks and he turns and starts wading out of the water.

“Hey - wait!” The other boy splashes up next to him and scrambles up the river bank with him. As soon as they’re on dry ground, he holds out a hand in Jason’s direction.

“I’m Percy. Jackson. I mean it’s actually Perseus, but the only person who ever calls me by that is my mum when I’m in trouble, so - Percy.”

Jason stares at the offered hand, then back up to Percy’s face. Then, carefully, he reaches out and shakes it. “Jason. Jason Grace.”

xxi

The pack finds Jason shortly after Percy introduces himself. The first signal of their arrival is the obvious crackle and snap of twigs beneath heavy paws, followed by the rustle of leaves as the wolves emerge from the undergrowth.

He isn’t expecting Percy to forcibly shove Jason back, planting himself between Jason and the wolves slinking out of the trees.

"Stay behind me, Jason!"

Jason opens his mouth, closes it again and can’t find anything to say past the unfamiliar warmth curling in his chest.

Well this is a curious affair.

Percy jumps. Lets out a faint squeak. "Did that wolf just speak?"

"It's okay, Percy," Jason says, tugging gently on Percy's shirt. "I know these wolves. This is Lupa and her pack."

Percy cranes his head around to look at Jason, his expression flat. "You know a pack of talking wolves."

Jason shrugs. "I live with them? Sort of. For now."

Percy frowns. His eyes dart between Lupa and Jason. “Why are you living with them?”

He was given to me.

At her words, Percy focuses on the wolf crouched in the centre of the clearing.

I am Lupa. I once raised Romulus and Remus in the times of the Roman Empire. The gods of the Romans live yet, and the lives of their half-divine, half-mortal children are rarely safe.

"Not safe." Percy echoes, chewing on his lip. "Like - from things that look like people at first but then you look again and you realise that they're not. Normal people. That follow you sometimes."

Lupa almost smiles. You have sharp eyes, little demigod.

“Thanks?”

Jason stares at Percy, heart pounding in his chest. “You’re a demigod. Like me?”

Percy folds his arms across his chest and rocks back on heels. “Well, I don’t know my dad. My mom said that he was ‘lost at sea’, when I asked.” The sunlight filtering through the trees reflect of off Percy’s eyes and for a moment they flash bright green. “I guess… I guess he’s not dead then?”

Percy’s eyes dart back to Lupa. “If the wolf is right and one of my parents is a god.”

You are correct, Jason. Perseus is a demigod, like you. Which makes you family, on your father’s side. But his human mother has not asked for him to be trained, and she will be looking for him soon enough.

“Oh,” Jason breaths out, his shoulders slumping. For a minute, he’d thought -

“Well, my mom isn’t here yet.” Percy winks at Jason. “So I can play a little longer, what do you say?”

And Jason nods, wanting to cling on to the little bit of time he has left with Percy.

xxii.

The afternoon melts into the evening, and drifts into the next morning, and the pack still lingers by the shore of the lake. Percy’s mother (call me Sally!) had found them, and after scolding Percy for wandering off without telling her, had been happy to let Percy spend time with Jason.

One day turns into two, and a heavy feeling sits in Jason’s gut and refuses to budge at the thought of Percy leaving. Leaving him.

(Just like his mom left him, like his sister, because who wants Jason Grace in their family -)

But then the last morning dawns, bright and clear.

Jason doesn’t understand at first, because Percy’s mom, (and apparently his Aunt, as far as Percy is concerned), is leaving, and Percy isn’t going with her.

Percy isn’t going, because he’s staying with Jason. Even though he has a parent who loves him, who didn’t want to give him away, but who asked Percy what he wanted and Percy chose to stay.

Jason can’t explain why he’s crying, exactly. But his cousin’s arm, flung over his shoulder, is warm and a little heavy and feels inexplicably solid. Grounding. For the first time in a long time, Jason falls asleep that night feeling warm.

[thedistantstorm]

An End to Opulence

The Shadow of the Earth | Emperor Calus | The Vanguard | The Last City | Character Death

And thus the Shadow of the Earth was slain by Suraya Hawthorne.

-/

There were ashes in his mouth.

There was no way around it, with much of the City on fire. No matter. He had never been much of a solar Guardian, but any kind of energy churned up enough would burn. He could still hear their screams, even now.

He loved it.

It was as delicious as he'd been told it would be, shrill and unfiltered. A treat for his refined palate.

Eventually, all things had to come to a close. He checked his gun. His cloak, violet and gold, billowed behind him with a tarnished shimmer. Looked up, at the great plumes of smoke that rose from the remains of the Tower.

The end-times were upon them.

Besides, he was no Guardian. Not any longer. Regardless of the soft, tragic insisting of his Ghost, who hovered at his shoulder. He would be one of the last, but he too would be purged.

The line between Light and Dark is so very thin...

No. Uldren was dead. Again. And again. Over and over and over. He had died over and over, until his Light had been gone for good. Enough, he told himself. It was time to grow fat from strength, to bathe this planet in the splendor only he could provide.

The Shadow of the Earth had a job to do.

The Emperor had shared his plans. Told his Shadow of the future they would create, before the end. In turn, the Shadow of the Earth shared them with his Ghost, who did not believe in in the Emperor's designs. The Shadow did not share them any more.

It isn't right, he'd said. I don't want to lose you, he'd pleaded.

But they will all lose, eventually. Not even the glorious Emperor in all his splendor can stop Death from coming. This is about feasting upon what remains, living in rapture, engorging upon pleasure right until those final moments.

Ghost does not speak anymore. Not even in those electrical whimpers. Not unless he knew of what the Shadow was about to do.

Here and now, there was no way he couldn't.

The Earth... and its Vanguard... and its people had been given a choice. They would not release themselves of their worldly attachments. That is why a shadow was cast, why he must cull them. 

Very few understand. Those who do fight eagerly, growing fat from the enrichment provided. Those who do not are met with violent mercy. Above all, Emperor Calus inspires his Shadows to be benevolent.

There are no second chances in the end-times. Those who choose to repent, to abandon their tethers to the mundane only under the threat of death will never know the euphoria, the rapture of this enlightenment. That is why they don't deserve it. There is no room here for the unworthy.

The pleading of the Ghost annoyed him immensely. No longer can they communicate through thought, for the Shadow will not have the Traveler's spawn undermine him.

"Be silent," He barked. The Shadow's gaze must be strong, for the Ghost had flinched back, expecting to be swatted. His shell, once bright and polished, is chipped. The once Chosen tsksed. "It wouldn't have hurt if I had struck you."

In reply, the Ghost trembled, shrinking back further. It does not say as much, but this had hurt. It hurts actively. Darkness: his partner emitted it like a muffling blanket, a defense the small bot had no chance of defeating. It penetrated their bond like a pinprick - harmless, at first. But now it feels like the Traveler's Light being ripped from his core to linger. He does it, he will continue to do it. He knows, somewhere in his miniscule circuits that the goodness that once was his partner - that made him the brightest Light in all the universe is still deep down in there somewhere.

It had to be.

He still called upon the void, was able to summon his spear of lightning. Even if he chose to do so rarely now. It had to count for something.

Right?

They ascended the South Elevator, and when it inevitably froze half way up, the Shadow's eyes glowed blue, sending them on their way with an arc pulse. Reassuring, though the Ghost could not voice it aloud from where he hovered quietly in his Guardian's blind spot.

They were all but waiting on the lookout together, the platform above Shaxx's Crucible station, looking out at the world below. Ruined, all of it. By his hand. A testament to the Emperor's lavish designs.

Ikora noticed him first, the void already summoned to her hand with hardly a second glance. She does not speak, but the words blaze in her eyes. How could you, they say. Traitor. Monster!

Shadow. 

Zavala did not move, remained still, his hands fisted atop the railing. Perhaps the gasp of from Ikora's parted lips reached his ears. Perhaps ages of battle left him wise enough to know his fate.

"If it will stop all this, I will die gladly."

A Thorn, black as night, as dark as the death of worlds was pointed at his back.

"You'll be the first," the Shadow said, almost delighted. "You won't be the last."

The scribes had written of acts to come. In many there were errors, discrepancies, waiting to be rewritten. They foretold of Zavala accepting his fate, and yet they assumed Ikora would turn sand to diamonds and alter worlds.

And yet it is Ikora who whimpered when the gun is pointed at her vest, stopping a charging Zavala - willing to die but not accepting of death - from his assault.

Delicious. Calus would find the story decadent, interesting. The plot twists had always been his favorite, after all.

"Ah, ah. Don't make me deviate," He threatened, almost playful. His gaze swung to Ikora, to her eyes of swirling gold with pupils constricted in panic. "She's terrified of dying. Death is coming for us all, you know. You had a choice," He shrugs, almost grandly. "You chose not to rise to the occasion and look where it led."

"This is madness!" Zavala snarled, through gritted teeth. "Genocide! These are the people you swore to protect, and you're having them slaughtered in droves.

The Thorn pointed at Ikora tilted to the side as its wielder considered, but does not waver in its aim. "But I am protecting them. I'm saving them from their earthly afflictions. If they won't embody the rapture, embrace their enlightenment, they will only know fear and hate. I'm erasing that from them. It is the least I can do."

"You're insane."

The words barely sound like the strongest Warlock, but it had been Ikora speaking all the same. He doesn't think about it, whipped out a second cannon and let its shot bite into her shoulder. She grunted, staggered, but did not fall.

Instead, her eyes darkened monumentally, and though her blood dripped slowly on deckplates she did not make any attempt to stifle the bleeding. She looked hateful. Powerless.

As they all would be, in the end. 

The Commander, on the other hand… he would still have to die first. Ikora would die wallowing in her futility, more so watching events unfold, but Zavala was unyielding. He would never let go of his ideals, not even in those last seconds when Death's maw closed around his throat.

Thorn's sight returned to Zavala, aimed at his chest. No amount of armor would shield him from the Shadow's deadly intent.

"Would you like to say your goodbyes? I had given you a day, but clearly you didn't take me seriously." The Shadow laughed, a menacing thing. "I am, after all, benevolent."

Zavala would not speak a word. His eyes were reduced to narrowed slits of hard, angry blue.

"You don't have to do this," A tiny voice intervened. Trembled, his entire body shook with fear of retaliation, but he proceeded. "You don't need to kill them."

"Be silent!" The Shadow boomed. "You do not understand."

"I understand this is wrong." He hovered into his partner's periphery. "You have to know this is wrong."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" The once-Hunter growled, "You do not listen!"

A shiver and shake of his cones leaves him almost wilted and yet his voice comes out resigned, angry. "These are your mentors and you want to kill them. It's wrong. You're wrong," He accused, directly. "It's you who doesn't listen to me, Guardian."

A black-gloved hand stashes his second canon and plucks the Ghost from mid-air. He throws the tiny robot with inhuman strength, letting him bounce and skid across the deckplates, cast aside. "Don't call me that! I'm not a Guardian!"

"No," Came a curt voice behind him. "You aren't."

"You shouldn't be here," The Shadow gritted. "It isn't your time yet."

"I think that's for me to decide." Hawthorne leaned heavy on her left hip, falcon perched on her right shoulder. Her eyes looked like polished stone. "Put your gun down."

"It's his time," The Shadow informed her. "Then hers," He nodded to Ikora. "You'll be… later."

"Enough. Stop with the crazy talk. The Cabal Emperor is insane. You used to tell me that!"

"I was wrong. He is… more."

"He is wrong, and right now, so are you."

"Stop arguing." He trained the sights of his secondary on her, a threat. Louis chirped shrilly in reply, his wings beating as he hovered ever higher, ready to defend her.

When the Shadow's back turned once more, Thorn straightening, this supposedly fated moment upon them, the falcon swooped down like a compact missile.

The shot sounded in a different direction.

A flash of green - the muzzle flash - erupted like a verdant sun. A sharp sound, shrieking. Pained. Another flash - white - followed.

In a single moment, time stopped and restarted. Hawthorne staggered backwards, clutching her chest, taking a knee. Several feet away, the discarded Ghost blinked to awareness, unbelieving of what it was seeing.

There was nothing left. No feathers, not a drop of blood. Thorn was all-consuming. 

"He would have taken that bullet no matter what," The Shadow scoffed, when one of the Vanguard parted their lips, meaning to comment in the following silence. "Better to extinguish him up front than allow him to interfere with my justice."

"This isn't justice," Hawthorne said, shaky, almost. She shifted, moving closer.

"Whatever you're thinking, don't. I'll kill you too." He returned his focus to Zavala, who looked even more furious than before. 

"You just-" The Ghost clicked, hovering warily from its place on the ground in a state of shock. It had seen the flashes, felt it in its innermost places. "I don't believe it," He wailed softly. "It's gone. All of it - it's-"

Are you alright?

He stilled. It sounded quiet almost like it came from… but it was all wrong. That isn't how- "You just..." He looked at her. She appeared more wary than surprised. As if... I-I'm sorry.

Me too.

Hawthorne returned to her feet, gun in hand. "This is your last warning," She said, tone like ice. "I don't want to do this, but I will if I have to."

"Cute, Hawthorne, but-"

"I'm not kidding." Her eyes narrow.

Ghost feels it. He feels it like the sun after a rain, like a campfire in the wilderness. It feels like coming home. And yet it hurt, worse than anything he'd ever known, to realize the truth. "Guardian," He warbled.

"I told you-"

"I know," Hawthorne said, hushed. She blinked and tears fell from her eyes. "I know."

She drew a weapon that glinted white. The Shadow turned then, shaking his head. The antithesis of Thorn was trained on him. "That will never stack up."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Your Ghost." Her eyes glowed, like dull embers. It was the only warning he got.

"Wh-"

Another flash. Orange and yellow, like the sunset, the twilight sky.

She lowered the gun, body ignited in flame.

It hurt her too, Ghost realized without actually knowing anything. He hovered to her tentatively. Their gazes met.

The Shadow gasped, the single shot enough to kill, but not instantly.

"I wish he could have kept you."

The tears steamed and evaporated as they leaked from her eyes, burning her cheeks. She took a knee beside him. His body jerked, his organs recoiling in shock, shouting down. He looked at her, words trying to find their way from his mouth.

With a sad keen, the Ghost touched his once-partner's forehead, burrowed itself against his cheek. "I'm sorry I failed you." The Shadow tried to bring his hands up. Whether to harm the tiny bot or to console him, they would never know. Death did not wait. In the City below, their attackers drew back. 

“Where did you get that gun?”

“He left it with me, a long while back.” Hawthorne sighed, sounding as though she had never been more exhausted. “Wasn’t particularly thrilled about having a hand cannon, but I suppose it did the trick.”

"The Psions were likely aware of his-" The Shadow's Ghost paused, "You know. I think he’d allowed them to link with him, to see his thoughts. They're withdrawing now. Without him, they don't stand a chance."

"Ghost." Ikora's eyes glimmered, both pained and relieved. Her own still did not make any move to heal her. "Is he-?"

Zavala watched as Hawthorne closed the fallen Guardian's unseeing eyes, removing the gun from his waist, ignoring the blackened husk that was Thorn. "His connection to the Light was severed," Ghost confirmed. "When he-"

Ophiuchus emerged immediately in motes of Light. "I told you," He soothed, immediately, healing her.

A gun was handed to the Warlock, grip first. She saw the familiar symbol, the worn etching. "This is-"

"Yours, now." Hawthorne holstered Lumina somewhere on her back, beneath her poncho. No one asked her where she had gotten it, more concerned with the gun in her proffered hand. “Take it.”

She did. They did not speak on what it meant. In many ways, they did not have to.

The City burned for days and days, but its people persisted. Leaders rose to the occasion. Humanity came together, as it had time and time again, to push back the Darkness. And when the remains of the Shadows rallied, seeing retribution for their fallen leader, a Light was cast upon them.

-/

Years Earlier:

“And thus the Shadow of the Earth was slain by Suraya Hawthorne.” The scribe flinched, not expecting the Emperor to be directly behind them. “Interesting, I suppose,” He blanches, “But you’ve forgotten one key element.”

“Yes, your Greatness?”

“My Shadow will not be like any you’ve seen before. They are not yet perfect, but they will be made so by my designs.” He gripped the scribe’s head with a giant palm, squeezing to prove his point. The Psion died without so much as a sound, but all the others heard his anguish telepathically. 

“And when they are, only one as perfect as I will be able to cull them.” He looked around the room at the group of them. Clapped his hands and immediately his cup was full of wine once more. Jubilantly, he bellowed, “Surely one of you must be capable of writing something a bit more imaginative!”

[elizabeth-234]

The Supplejack

Hi everyone! Hope your week is going well! This is a prompt I’m doing for @irondad1000 . It is 925: "The exasperation at that eternal shyness of yours."

Summer: Peter Parker has been alone his whole freshman year but finds hope when Stark Industries announces a science competition. The prize? An internship with Tony Stark.

Warnings: some angst, pre-powers

Word count: 4k

Hope you like it :)

“Come on, Peter. Come on.” He shifted his feet back and forth across the carpet, lifting one on top of the other before the pressure became uncomfortable and he switched the stacking order. The throng of people before him, while shorter now, stretched way longer than he hoped. Who could blame them, though? This was Iron Man after all.

The announcement for the competition had been made at his school in the beginning of the year. The aesthetics of the advertisement took over the school, leaving modern and flashy print glued across the corkboards wherever you walked. Tony Stark was holding a science competition for his company, the S.T.A.R.K. or Stark Training: Aimed at Reaching Kids. That, in itself, would have been enough for Peter. Just being in the same room as Mr. Stark would send him into cardiac arrest so he was certainly going to need the shock of the defibrillators after this. Not only was Mr. Stark going to judge the competition, but also the prize was an internship at Stark Industries.

You can imagine the pandemonium created in the announcement’s wake at Midtown. All the students and staff were in an uproar. You couldn’t walk into a room without someone mentioning it and people were trading ideas like Pokémon cards. There was a rumor that some student had hired professionals to come up and develop an idea for them.

Peter did none of those things. He couldn’t afford minions to crank out ideas and even if he could, he wouldn’t have wanted to. The thought of using someone else’s project plans didn’t appeal to him. What was the point of competing if it wasn’t your work?

The beginning rounds were held at the high school you attended and from there only two were selected to move on. Peter had been one of them. The other had been a boy named Seymour, much to the chagrin of his friend, Flash Thompson. He had seen the latter boys project one day when he had been showing it off at Decathlon practice. Loath as he was to admit it, it was a noteworthy concept. One that he thought for sure would win out against his own. Seymour had been the dark horse of the fight and in the end pulled ahead of Flash.

Peter left school late one day after the announcement was made. He had hid in the bathroom trying to avoid some of the students asking him questions about his project and slunk toward a rarely used stairway to evade the never-ending questions when he ran into Flash. The boy was slumped on the stairs, his head buried in his knees, and the barest of shaking emanated from his shoulders. Peter had wanted to turn around right then. To get out of the stairwell as fast as possible but it was to late. Flash’s back went ridgid. The boy tried to brush the tracks off his face but Peter could see the swollen eyes that widened as his face blushed a dark red.

“What are you doing here Parker? Nobody wants you here.” His voice bounced along the walls, echoing their venom. Peter really didn’t care for Flash. The boy would always go out of his way to make Peter feel like crap but even after all of that, all the hungry lunches and ripped up assignments, Peter could felt bad for him. Could sense that the boy was hurting. But it wasn’t enough to make him want to stay and comfort the boy.

He made to rush down the stairs keeping a wide birth between them. As he walked, Peter looked back and took in the boy’s empty gaze at the wall. The stairs leveled off and the door was in front of him but he couldn’t leave. Peter’s stomach clenched and he had the feeling he shouldn’t leave without saying something. He took in a deep breath, feeling his chest inflate as he turned around. The boy didn’t even glance at him. That was good. Peter concentrated on the stairs just to the left of Flash so they didn’t have to look each other in the eye.

“Just so you know, Flash.” The boy’s face morphed in a moment. All sharp lines and deep crevices stared back at him.

“What Parker? Going to gloat?”

Not rising to his taunt he went on as if Flash didn’t speak. As if the hate filled glare wasn’t aimed at him. “I thought that you deserved the spot. What Seymour did was wrong and you had the better project. It’s unfair that he used his money to get what he wanted and, well, I’m sorry.” Peter left his, not to be dramatic, enemy on the stairwell. The boy as still as a statue, mouth carved open, and left staring at the back of the boy he taunted.

Peter’s hands shook as he pushed the door open; his breath came out in a large burst, which had been cradled in his chest for too long. Try as he might Flash scared him. Not in a fear for his safety but he was always conscious of what the boy would do next, what new insults and taunts would come hurtling his way. A small warmth ignited in his chest as he stepped into the sun. Even if he was scared he had still spoke up, had said something nice to Flash.

A voice echoing over the speakers broke him of his reverie and Pter was out from under the sun and back in the poorly lit room. This was it. He was in the precursor to the final round. The line Peter was waiting in would lead him to a larger room with a panel of judges. All he could picture was the restaurant critic from Ratatouille, his gaunt and serve mien judging Peter to be a complete failure. If he passed this round, no, when he passed this round he would get to meet Mr. Stark. Would then present his project to the man. Still, that possibility was making his palms sweat.

Peter had chosen the back of the line in an effort to be strategic. There had been a commotion at the front as people piled on top of each other trying to catch a peak inside the room and wanting to present first. To be seen first. Peter, on the other hand, had hung to the rear. He was still having a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that he had made it this far and although his stomach was in a near constant state of churning he wanted to prolong this experience as much as possible. Not quite believing that he wasn’t in a dream.

May’s face had crumpled with tears when he had shown her his project, making the guilty noose around his neck loosen with the knowledge that he was working to fix his past mistakes. It had been about a month before the competition announcement that Uncle Ben had died. That Peter spawned the tragedy from his actions and was left there to bear witness. Now, nearly at the end of his freshman year he was finally beginning to breath through the haze. He liked to think of the burning he felt with each breath as a sort of penance.

Peter became obsessed with the competition, believing that by perfecting it, it would make up for everything. The work and time he spent on it distracted him, let him focus on that instead of his memories and he would be forever grateful to Mr. Stark for the chance to participate. Not that the man would ever know. Peter’s project could help people in the future. The shiny texture of the solution mirrored the wetness streaming down May’s face when he explained what it was for. She knew, even if he didn’t explicitly state, why he had made it.

Now here he was. The once packed hall was sparsely filled, a few groups left waiting to the sides whispering and glancing at the doors. There were two people in between him and the coveted doorway. They were not enough to drown out the rusted hinge on the left door sending a creak into the air with every pass through it. Announcing one step closer. The hinge groaned and Seymour came strutting out toward him. Papers flew into the air before gracefully falling to the ground unlike Peter who imitated gravities affect on a sack of flour.

“Watch where you’re going, Parker. What are you even doing here anyway? There’s no way you could win this thing. What would a genius like Mr. Stark do with someone like you?”

Peter’s lips thinned as his knees strained against the floor. “At least I didn’t have to buy my way here,” he mumbled to the carpet. He gathered the papers in his hand trying to ignore the harsh words from behind him.

Seymour must not have liked Peter’s response because the next thing he knew a pain erupted from his back. The ground came rushing up as his head slammed into the ground. The room spun but Peter knew he had to get up as quick as possible. That was rule one: avoid being vulnerable. Bracing his palms on his thighs Peter glanced up from under his bangs not seeing anyone in close proximity anymore. Peter rubbed a hand down the side of his face wincing as he pressed against a sensitive spot. Trying to organize his papers he noticed a speck of red on the cover page and traced it back to a gash on his arm. It stung as his hoodie soaked up the excess blood.

He had just stacked his papers in the proper order when the doors opened and he caught a view of the room he had only imagined before. It was mostly empty. No stage for which he was grateful but the most important facets of the space was the four people sat behind a long, sleek table. It took him a second to realize that the unobstructed view was because no one was in front of him. It was his turn. Peter’s spine cracked as he straightened it walking forward. He tried to ignore the shaking in his legs as he walked.

The one woman on the panel was easily recognizable. Pepper Potts commanded attention everywhere she went and this was no exception. Peter’s eyes were drawn to her determined eyes as the rest of the people looked to her for cues when to continue on. He couldn’t focus on the others present at the table and the shaking had migrated from his legs up his torso, into his arms and fingers. He cleared his throat as he set up his presentation; the eyes glinted as they followed his jerky movements. With his back turned he was able to think clearer than before. Steeling his resolve he swiveled his feet and the table came into his view again.  

Heat spread from his cheeks down his neck and he struggled to take a breath, his vision tunneling on the crown of Ms. Potts’ head. One of the older gentlemen, the one on the end with a pinstripe suit, spoke while looking through the papers in front of him.

“Okay, next we have?” Silence blanketed the room as Peter waited for someone to answer. The man took in Peter’s glassy eyes and motioned for him to answer.

“Oh, ah. My name is Peter Parker, Sir,” finally getting the words out. He wiped his hands across his jeans as they all wrote something down.

“Are you alright, Mr. Parker?” Ms. Potts spoke with concern. His eyebrows furrowed while his palms somehow became drenched again. Was it that obvious he was about five seconds away from having a total nervous lapse? But instead she signaled to Peter’s pants. For a split second Peter worried he had peed himself but a hint of red caught his eye and his eyes darted to his arm. The folds in his shirt had moved around leaving the tear open in the air.

“Um, yes, Ma’am. Thank you. I must have fallen outside.” He could practically feel the weight of their eyes moving from the stain to his face, making his chin throb. The other man, smaller in stature and balding asked if he needed a Band-Aid. An idea came to him so he declined.  

“Alright, young man. Get started anytime you want. Why don’t you give us a short introduction of yourself first?” Peter nodded but couldn’t look toward the judges, so he concentrated on the tiles right above Ms. Potts. He could do this. Peter knew he could. His stomach just wasn’t sure he would get through it all.

There had been a week time to sign up. It was a week where the papers on the corkboard outside of the office taunted him. They seeped the endless possibilities onto the floor while whispering to him, telling him that he didn’t have enough courage to sign his name. He would purposefully go different routes to class in order to not pass the sheets; to pretend it wasn’t happening. But under the cool stars on the fire escape he would think about it. Dream about walking on stage, shoulders back, voice loud, and confident while dazzling the judges. It was the Peter he wished he could be. Not the one that was scared off by some papers on a clipboard.

At the end of the week he was a mess. Far too many hours he spent in the bathroom. The mirror could predict his pale face and twitching left eye before Peter had even stepped in front of it. The last day of the sign up he had woken up late and thrown on clothes from earlier in the week, the wrinkles now permanent in the material. The floor moved under his feet as he meandered down the hallways. They squeaked against the tiles as he stopped after realizing what hallway he was in. The paper now full of names called to claim his. With care he moved closer to inspect it, like cornering a sacred animal he bowed his head in an imitation of reverence. A pen appeared in his hand and he shoved the shaking fingers flat against the wall on either side of the white. Peter took his time scanning down the list of names, knowing the school was long vacant by now.

It looked like everyone had signed up. Some of the smartest most outgoing people in the school were on the list. How could he, little Peter Parker compare to that. When he first came to midtown he was so nervous. Ben hadn’t been there to help him through and although May tried to do her best, she didn’t understand how people couldn’t love her darling boy. When the teachers called on him unexpectedly they learned that they would get a stutter from their target and snickers from the rest of class in return. So they, thinking they were being benevolent, avoided him. The other kids were less pitying of the boy in second hand clothing. There was no learning curve for them and he was alone.

The unexpectedness of it all hurt the most. It was different than the dream he had in middle school. There Peter had thought that all his Peterness would disappear with age. That he would be able to look someone in the eyes without stammering like a fool and have that infernal blush come across his cheeks not be so severe. It had been like that since he could remember. He would come home from school lethargic wanting nothing more than the comfort of his room. He felt much better in his own space, but the magical transformation never occurred and Peter was still the same.

This, though, had called to him. Peter’s name was signed and he was out the doors before the pen had fallen to the ground. His feet pounded on the walkway as he weaved through the people to get to the subway. The keys jingled in his hand as the door creaked open. He didn’t call out to May as he ran to his room, not noticing the light was off under her door, and keeping the lights off Peter crawled under his covers.

He had done it. His heartbeat was reverberating throughout his chest but he had done it. Peter had signed up for what could have been the biggest experience he would ever have. The covers were warm by the time he was calm enough to think clearly. Peter asked himself what Ben would say, how he would get Peter out of his head, and look objectively at the situation. One of the last things he had said before he had… gone came to mind. It was right before school had started.

“It’s okay to be shy Peter. There is nothing wrong with that. In fact it can be a good attribute. I just want you to remember that you can’t let that, or anything, stop you from doing something you want to do. Courage and bravery aren’t the absence of fear, Peter. They are acting in spite of fear because you know it’s right course of action.” The words had stayed with him and he tried to remember them when he got in a tough situation. To not let any fear get in the way of what he wanted to do, but it was hard and Ben wasn’t there anymore.

Peter remembered that night with clarity as he stood before the judges. He remembered how his stomach had ached from nerves but his mind was light with accomplishment. He signed the paper and worked the whole year to be able to stand here in front of these people.

“All right. I’m Peter. Um, my name is Peter Parker. I go to Midtown High School in Forest Hills and, um, I’m fourteen. I’m a freshman there. I, uh, like science a lot; especially Biology.” He made the mistake of glancing up and saw their blank faces. Peter was sure that ever-single student that had stood where he was right now had said something along the same lines. What could he say to stand out?

“Um, well, in my spare time I’m a Ham.” Someone coughed and he poked a finger into his collar to loosen it. “I mean that I’m an amateur radio operator. I like taking apart the radios and putting them back together.” Their pens scratched the papers, but they didn’t look any more interested than a few seconds ago. Knowing he wasn’t going to win the personality test, for he was sure they were grading him on everything, he decided to jump into the presentation.

“So, what I have, actually, what I made is,” He took a deep breath. “Spider silk. Well, a synthetic version. In nature it is known for being stronger than steel but thinner than human hair.” The cards he was holding tumbled to the ground and he stared down in horror. Enough time passed that he felt awkward picking them up and Peter had practiced enough times he was fairly confident it was memorized so he started again.

“So, um, it’s thinner than human hair but when force is applied, it is stronger than steel. Through a series of tests, starting with the silk of a spider I made this formula to basically help stitch wounds back together. Guess it’s a good thing I fell cause now you all will get a live demonstration of this.” He held up his arm.

“The solution I created is able to aid in the healing process. After applying it to the wound it will adhere to the edges, bonding with the tissue or whatever material there. Working it’s way across the gash the liquid will weave together mimicking a web-like structure. The strands weave over and under each other lending strength to the other fibers. The tensile strength of the average spider silk is just above one GPa, which is measuring force per area. This is how much force is necessary to break the material. Not only does the strength compared to it’s weight make the spider silk about five times stronger than steel but the shape of the structures make it even more durable.”

Peter also concentrated on the flexibility of the fibers. While most scientists saw a weakness, Peter viewed it as a strength. The actual strands of spider silk could stretch and soften, bending under outside forces. They would bend but never break. Instead as the pull of the force became greater the fibers would stiffen causing less damage to the web or in this case wound. That was the property that had been the most difficult to perfect and the one that appealed to Peter the most.

When applied and secured to the edges it would travel with the person, breath with their movements. It would then harden and, once letting the body worked it’s own magic, would dissolve into the skin. All this packed away in a can for easy application. Walking up to the presentation table he set his arm down. The fibers of the towel brushed against his skin as he pulled the small can of The Weaver.

“I only need the smallest amount for this but you will see it working right away.” He tried to get the tub open with his mouth but it wouldn’t budge. His cheeks burned. Remembering he had another hand he peeled it off of the towel and opened it with a pop. “Right well, all I have to do is pour a little bit directly onto the wound like so and… there you go.”

There was a camera on the table getting a close up of his arm and it showed the way the fibers were growing, connecting. He twisted his wrist right and left to show the flexibility of the material and continued to explain how long it would last, admitting that he needed to figure out how to extend its longevity, and the side effects, so far he had found none. He finished up and looked at the silent room.

The flush came back full force as he saw them all leaning forward at various angles. One of them cleared their throat and the little man spoke again. “Very interesting, Mr. Parker. We have to go through the deliberations and then will let all the contestants know what we have decided. Thank you for your presentation.”

It was over. Peter tried to muster a smile as he thanked them. His head bobbed before gathering his stuff, tripping over his feet in haste. Someone stood to help him but he couldn’t turn back and just waved them off. Mumbling a thank you he left the room, making sure the doors were shut quietly behind him. The door leeched the warmth from his back. It could have gone worse, he supposed.

The line dwindled down until there was no one left in the lobby. Peter had been sitting in the shadows of a tall plant so he could observe the door without being seen. Three of the judges walked out, conferring about the different candidates and talking about when the next meeting was. No one saw Peter but he moved his legs closer to his chest in case. Another man held the door open for Ms. Potts, his back to Peter as they locked up. The couple spoke in quiet tones but Peter could hear them as if they were standing right next to him.

“Well, Pepper. I’m still not convinced this is a great idea. I felt ancient watching some of those babies.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic. Plus, the term ancient lends the idea of wisdom. Senior, yes. Ancient, no.” The man snorted but smartly didn’t reply. “Someone gave you a chance when you were young, Mr. went to MIT at age fifteen. Come on, that one kid with the flying surf board was pretty cool.”


“It was Flashy,” the man said grudgingly. “But I think his washboard abs had something to do with your enjoyment of it.” There was a soft smack and Peter imagined Ms. Potts hitting the man on his arm, smiling with the wind up.  

“Did not.”



“I thought that spider web kid had something there. There was just something about him. I can’t put my finger on it.” Their shadows were the only remainder of them in the room now.  

“A little timid but I agree, Tony.” Peter’s blood ran cold. It couldn’t be him. There had to have been another Tony, one of the other judges but three of them had left the room already. Had Peter missed him somehow? The sounds of their laughter faded around the room as Peter pressed his eyes to his knees, trying to control the wetness forming.

He was sure he had ruined it. The idea was good; there was no denying that. He knew it would be a helpful product but had the execution of the presentation made it seem weaker? Peter had tainted it but they had talked about him, had said there was something about his presentation. That sounded hopeful.

Rejection letters floated through his mind. The image of him walking into school, empty handed made his stomach clench as he curled into himself more. The hole in his chest opened up as he replayed every falter, every misspoken word and the judges’ blank faces stared at him from the other side of the room.

Ben’s words came back to him. Bravery was not the absence of fear but acting in spite of it. He had done that. Peter knew how afraid he had been, not sleeping the whole week before but he had gone up in front of them. He had a damn good idea and in the end he had done it. As he sat on the cold tile, his butt hurting from sitting in one position too long, the dust from the plant wafted into his nose and around him settling on the ground. He thought that maybe, this time, Ben would be proud.

Thanks for reading! 

Here it is on ao3.

Chapter Two: The Sandwich Fiasco

[maidenoftime-ffxiv]

About Juliette Derosiers

THE VITALS ——–

NAME: Juliette Margot Derosiers.

NICKNAMES: Fawn, Jules, Lettie. 

AGE: Nineteen.

NATIONALITY: Ishgardian. 

CITIZENSHIP: Ishgardian, though she lives in the Twelveswood. 

GENDER: Female.

OTHER INFORMATION ——–

RACE & CLAN: Half Wildwood and half Midlander. 

NAMEDAY: 5th Sun of the 3rd Astral Moon. (May 5th.)

ORIENTATION: Heterosexual.

MARITAL STATUS: Single.

RESIDENCE: A cottage and apothecary shop deep within the Black Shroud.

OCCUPATION: Apothecary’s apprentice. 

PATRON DEITY: Nymeia the Spinner. 

ALIGNMENT: Neutral good. 

APPEARANCE ——–

HAIR: A rich, dark auburn in hue. Juliette has never had a haircut in her life, and so her long, soft locks flow well down to her waist, brushing over the top of her rump. Her hair is well maintained and thick, mostly straight save for some natural curling towards the ends. 

EYES: A sparkling gray, bordering on silver. 

HEIGHT: 5 feet, 9 ilms - a short Elezen!

BUILD: Juliette is a long-legged and ethereal beauty. Her body shape contributes to her good looks. She possesses a long torso and a pale, elegant neck. A pear shape figure fills out her flowing dresses, with a tapered waist and full, curvy hips and bottom. Her bust is of medium size and well-shaped, complementing her pretty proportions. There is some softness around her tummy and her thighs. 

COMMON ACCESSORIES: A small leather satchel filled with vials of medicines. 

FAMILY TIES ——–

SPOUSE: N/A

CHILDREN: N/A

PARENTS: Louis Gabriel Baptiste Antonin Derosiers (father, alive), Emelie Anouk Clémence Derosiers (mother, alive). Estranged from both.

SIBLINGS: Victor Derosiers (older brother, alive, estranged), Sacha Derosiers (older brother, alive, estranged), Antonin Derosiers (older brother, alive, estranged.) 

OTHER RELATIVES: Juliette, after being banished from Ishgard by Halonic priests at the tender age of five, was taken to live in the Twelveswood by her maternal uncle and maternal grandmother. Her grandmother, Andete, is of Sharlayan descent, while her uncle Raphael was an esteemed Ishgardian knight. They took her in and cared for her as their own when her own parents disowned her. Her paternal grandparents are both alive, and she has a number of living aunts, uncles, and cousins on both sides. 

PETS: A young deer that she simply calls ‘Baby’ has been a constant companion after the creature’s mother was hunted. Apart from the fawn, she has gained the trust of most animals within their vicinity and quickly befriends any that she comes across with a special fondness for anything soft and fuzzy. 

OTHER: N/A

QUICK INFO ——–

extroverted / introverted / in between

disorganized / organized / in between

close minded / open-minded / in between

calm / anxious / in between

disagreeable / agreeable / in between

cautious / reckless / in between

patient / impatient / in between

outspoken / reserved / in between

leader / follower / in between

empathetic / unemphatic / in between

optimistic / pessimistic / in between / realistic

traditional / modern / in between

hard-working / lazy / in between

cultured / un-cultured / in between

loyal / disloyal / in between

faithful / unfaithful / in between

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

OOC INFORMATION AND HOOKS ——–

Do you think she consorts with magic folk? - Juliette is a girl that spawns rumors. Not much is known about the white-haired maiden, and glimpses of her are rare. A common rumor is that the beauty will lure lost hunters and adventurers if they stray near her home, the people never to be seen again. Young people are warned against seeking her out and are encouraged to avoid her neck of the woods, the superstitious people of the Twelveswood believing her to be dangerous. Even still, this does not deter everyone. You could be a hunter, trapper, adventurer, or simply someone lost within the forest that stumbles near her home close to the Sylphlands, or encounters her while she gathers plants to assist Grandmother Agnete in making her medicines. 

She speaks to the fairies and the wood... - Conjurers may have heard that Juliette communicates with the elementals, as well as with the Sylph, both touched and untouched. Her aether is closely - almost alarmingly - linked with the natural world, but she has not sought out the conjurer’s guild for any formal training and lacks the desire. 

A maiden of time, of past and future... - What her family believed to be insanity is, in fact, an unstable talent in chronomancy. Though it is unclear how this strange magic came to afflict young Juliette, there is no denying that she has visions of both things that have already passed and things yet to come, ones that often leave her sick and exhausted. She strives to change the unfortunate futures she sees. Perhaps she saw your character in a vision and tried to seek them out to warn them of what was to befall them in coming days. 

The woman with medicines and her apprentice... - Despite Juliette assisting Grandmother Agnete in making her herbal remedies, she is not often seen in the mysterious shop that the old woman works out of. Even still, it would not be impossible to catch glimpses of her as she hurries to hide within the home that the shop is run out of. Perhaps you’ve heard of the esteemed apothecary and are seeking her help when you see her charge’s white hair whipping around the corner. 

Anything else you may have in mind! - Ishgardian nobility may also have heard of Juliette, who was sent away when she was five years old with the Knight. Still, these are not the only hooks I’m willing to work with. If you have any ideas, please feel free to toss them at me! Chances are I’m going to agree to it and am eager to RP!

OOC, I AM…

Open to most all forms of RP! Slice of life, adventure, mature themes such as violence, gore, horror, stalking, torture, obsession, etc. are all fine with me. Just please ask before we get into any plots or RP that are darker themed!

Not willing to do permanent injury, disfigurement, or death for my characters.

Pretty friendly! My preferred method of contact is here on Tumblr or in-game. I do have Discord, but it’s something where I have to be comfortable with you to give it out. :) 

On EST and available most evenings!

My preferred method of RP is in-game. Google Docs are easy for me to lose track of and threads on Tumblr aren’t usually my jam. I will agree to Discord RP in the event that we get deeply involved in a plot and we may want to continue writing, but while one of us isn’t able to log into the game. To reiterate - my Discord is only given out to people I feel comfortable with and have spoken to at length, but if you do receive it, please be aware that I am not supremely chatty. This doesn’t mean I don’t like you! It just means I take a lot of time to myself or am often busy. :)