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under-cotton-and-calicos · 10 months

Text

Take Me Back To Eden

Multiple Ghosts x AFAB Reader

AN: It’s been a long while. I’ve been busy [insert unhinged ao3 author life update here]. This has been sitting in my drafts for the LONGEST time jeez. Wasn’t really satisfied with any of the directions it took so I finally sat down and committed to something. May or may not have a sequel. I recommend listening to “Descending” by Sleep Token while you read this. As the title implies, I’m kinda obsessed with the band right now. Enjoy!

tags: cult sex, orgy, heavy dubcon, ghosts, ancient deity, mind manipulation, oral sex, vaginal penetration, rough sex, WEIRD CUM

Word count: 3.9k

With a pathetic sputter, the incessant humming of your old corolla’s engine gives way to silence. For a few moments, you sit in the dark and quiet, a mixture of excitement and anxiety raising goosebumps on your skin. You’ve done this hundreds of times, you’re sure that today you’re going to get your big hit. It has to be.

You slam your car door shut and take a deep breath, a gym bag filled with equipment and cameras slung over one shoulder, your free hand guiding the beam of your heavy duty torch across the entrance of the abandoned bar. The old, faded sign perched above its entrance is unreadable, faintly you can make out traces of looping letters. Its battered and dusty exterior belies the rumours you’ve heard about the place.

You were supposed to come with your posse, but every single one of them had work or family issues that cropped up at the last minute. Not one to be deterred by fear, you ended up making the drive down alone. In spite of the cool night, your skin is warm with anticipation as you cross the threshold and slip into the bar.

Not much is known about its origins or history- it’s a small, rundown lot in a slow and quiet part of town, so no one has ever paid it much attention. It had been a hole-in-the-wall style pub that attracted a small and dedicated group of patrons before mysteriously closing abruptly. Hours of digging through the net gave you enough reason to suspect that there was an abnormal cause behind why it still hadn’t been bought out for decades, though. The reports of ghostly apparitions in the crevices of obscure forums led you down a rabbit hole. Soon enough, you managed to find a video posted online, taken by some teenagers roped in by a bet. You studied it for hours, pausing at every frame.

You can still remember the sweet thrill, the goosebumps that formed on your skin when you noticed the wispy, grey figures hidden behind corners in several frames. Jackpot.

Your friends had told you that they were edited but your gut told you otherwise. There was a genuine fear in those kids’ eyes, you bet on it.

As you manoeuvre through old tables and chairs, you notice that the furniture is still well kept, barring the fact that everything is covered in layers of dust.The retro style bar, stools and shelves are all in good condition, though lacking bottles of booze and the typical drink making paraphernalia. Maybe someone still cares for the place?

You notice a few doors that hadn’t been explored in the video, so you try each handle, one of them leading to an empty storage room, another leading to a kitchen behind the bar, the next to a decrepit restroom. Curiously, there’s a long stairway behind a stuffy curtain going down to what you presume is a basement door. There’s an inlaid symbol on the door, made from burnished golden metal, its fine quality at odds with everything else in the bar. You’ve never seen anything like it before- the silhouette of a tree firmly rooted to the earth, its branches and roots reminiscent of…horns?

There’s something compelling about it. Your stomach dips at the thought of you opening the door, but you want to. There’s something on the other side of it.

When you yank on the handle, it doesn’t budge, breaking you out of your momentary stupor. You shake your head and blink.

Caught up in the moment?

“Damn.” You sigh. Typically, you would leave lockpicking to another one of your friends. There isn’t much you can do about it, so you decide to set up a few thermal cameras overlooking the tables and bar, as well as an REM pod for proximity detection on the countertop.

Kneeling behind the countertop, you turn on your spirit box, its harsh white noise filling the quiet. Through the static, you call into the night.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

There’s no response, but you introduce yourself and continue. You’re well accustomed to this pattern already, after years of this. The hauling of equipment, meticulously setting everything up, dicking around for a few hours and then packing up and heading home. Keep the time spent idle low, and expectations even lower. Perhaps it’s because you’re alone tonight. There’s a charge in the atmosphere, a certain secrecy and wonder to the ritual.

“I'd really like it if you told me your name.”

“Like.” The artificial, crackly word emerges from the static.

“Yes, I’d like it if you introduced yourself too.” You wait a few more moments before the next word. For a while, monosyllabic words are all you receive. So you dig and prompt until you tag onto something.

“More.”

“More?”

“M…More tha-an.”

“There’s more than one of you?” You say, peering around the empty bar. There’s no sign of the specters from the video, only swirling mites of dust suspended in the air under the glow of your torchlight. “Where are you?”

“H-Here.”

Suddenly, your REM pod flashes green, red, blue against the shadows, signalling that something is close by, very close by. But instead of its typical bleeping, a warbled wail echoes through the empty bar, causing you to flinch from how loud it is. The fuck?

You turn around and direct your torch towards the pod. Your heart falters.

A crowd of grey specters are standing behind the counter, their forms towering over where you’re kneeled on the ground. Their bodies are featureless, rippling as though they could blink out of existence at any moment, at odds with the physical realm. For a second, you can’t bring yourself to do anything. You feel dread, you're stunned, but underneath it all, the irrational, ghost hunting geek in you is baffled. Holy shit, holy shit.

You jump to your feet, backed against the shelves. Their heads tilt upwards, following your movement. And then you’re fleeing, terror driving you to run from the very situation that you’ve been chasing down for years.

The moment you’re behind the steering wheel, you step on the gas, your corolla protesting as it's jolted out of its sleep and forced to shoot down the empty street. You don’t stop to turn and look.

“Wait.” A real voice overlaps with the one coming from your spirit box still clutched in your sweaty palm, but you don’t stop, turning the corner around the countertop and passing through an ethereal, translucent arm reaching out to stop you. You burst out of the bar into the cooler night air and shakily jam your key into your car, cursing as you struggle to get the door open.

Holy shit, you chant over and over again, they’re real, they’re real!

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Your alarm wakes you from a restless slumber, one of many in the past few months. With a groan, you fumble for your phone with your eyes still closed and turn it off.

“Fuck…” You curse at the soreness in your back and slick between your legs. It happened again last night.

Tugging your underwear down, you stare at the sticky mess you’d created in your sleep. Glimpses of your dream, or nightmare, flash through your head, sending a quiver down your spine. Your breath hitches at the thought, you palm your stiff nipples through your ratty old shirt and begin fingering your cunt, warm and dripping wet.

You’ve been tormented by a string of dreams lately, each one leaving you aching in the morning. So much so that you have had to incorporate masturbation into your morning routine. It’s never satisfying though, your fingers and toys don’t come even close to what you experience in the nasty recesses of the dreamscape hidden in your mind. All of them are vivid and realistic, but when you wake, you can only recall little snatches- greedy hands taking their fill of your body and being bent over, being filled…being defiled.

And with your equipment left at the bar, what can you do? There is no evidence of your findings. You can’t tell your friends that you’ve been having wet dreams almost incessantly since that night alone in the bar. You would seem like a lunatic.

But it wouldn’t be wrong to call this a kind of madness. Frantic and possessive. Bodies cast in vibrant colour, shadowed and swaying against you. Cast in the black behind your eyelids is a gold insignia, beckoning you closer and closer.

With a whimper, you cum, body folding over and shaking as you ride out your climax. Temporarily satiated, you slump back into your pillows dramatically, staring at your ceiling. Something from that bar had followed you home. And you want to go back.

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

The empty district is just as quiet as it was the last time you were here. It’s a cold night, and you tug your sweater around your shoulders as you lean back in your car seat. It’s undeniable that you’re a little scared- you feel like one of those idiot teenagers in horror movies that get themselves killed for wandering recklessly into danger. Again, something tells you that it’s different. Or maybe you’re just horny.

With your torch in one hand and your phone in the other, you enter the bar. All of your equipment is just as you left it. You trace your finger over the REM pod on the countertop, dusty but intact. It’s…quiet.

What did you expect? To get jumped the moment you came in? There’s no sign of the specters as well. You’re a bit disappointed, because it means that those dreams you’ve been having might not have been supernatural at all, and worse, the specters might have been a figment of your imagination.

Just as you resolve to pack up your things and leave, a sliver of light catches your eye, cast against the dark floor. Purple light streams between the curtains that lead to the locked basement. Your heart begins to pick up pace again, and you rush over, brushing aside the thick, heavy fabric to see the stairway down illuminated. The door is open!

“H-Hello?” You call out, flicking your torchlight off and leaning it against a step. With hesitant steps, you descend, eyes adjusting to the dim artificial light. You know this atmosphere, this tension in the air from the distinctive purple haze of your dreams. Almost instinctively, your core warms and you can feel yourself shiver, a conditioned response.

When you reach the base of the stairs, your breath stalls in your throat and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips. The same apparitions that have been haunting your dreams are there, facing you, as if waiting for your inevitable return. Your nervous eyes scan the rest of the room, it looks like you’ve stepped into another realm entirely- gone are the cheap and neon plastics of the bar, there’s a pool of fabrics and pillows, and an altar, carved from stone with tall pillars of candles by its sides.

Dazed, you don’t realise that you’ve been walking until you’re a few feet in front of the specters, their heads following you uncannily.

“I-I…” You sputter, jittery under their heavy, obscured gaze. They haven’t even done anything to you yet, but your head is all cotton and gauze. Slowly, you sink to your knees.

“My dreams. I’ve seen you there.” You say, awe-struck. A delicate voice replies, soft as a gossamer sheet.

“I am glad that you’ve returned.” It confuses you. You’re not sure if the voice is coming from one of the specters before you or if it’s echoing through your head, like you’re on a phone call with someone in the same room as you. Up close, their forms are ethereal, shimmering and tinted purple from the lights, shifting ever-so-slightly.

You can still make out the shape of a mouth and a nose on their faces, as well as outlines of their limbs and hands. One reaches out to you, fitting the curve of your cheek in the palm of their hand- your eyes widen at the touch, it feels real, cold but solid against you.

“Good one…pretty one…” They close around you, clamouring to touch you. A hand combs through your hair, traces the curve of your ear, another slides past the collar of your shirt to the dip between your shoulder blades, and one presses its fingers against your lips.

Strange, you think, opening your mouth obediently for the cold fingers to savour the wet warmth of your tongue. Every cell in your body is alight, bristling with energy and ready to burst at the seams. This is what you’ve been wanting for so, so long.

How could I have been terrified of them before this?

“More, more.” Not enough of you is exposed it seems. You shed your sweater, your hard nipples visible through thin fabric. The atmosphere bristles a bit, you think, as you finally discard your shirt, your breasts and inviting skin on display for them to grab at, their touch growing more hungry.

They whisper, trailing lower and lower. You close your eyes for just a moment, the jostling bodies around you giving way to darkness as you relish in the feeling of hands that grope your chest, firm nipples being pinched and tugged at, your bare body slowly becoming accustomed to their supernatural chill. Something bumps against your lips and you smile, opening your eyes once again to bat your eyelashes up at the specter that has its stiff cock in hand, unabashedly asking for entry.

You open wide, sticking your tongue out for the specter to slide its head against you. You think you hear a whimper, and you’re pleased to feel it twitching as you close your mouth around it, humming as you bob your head and take more of its length down your throat. It’s solid, hard like a human’s, and you can feel the bump of veins trailing down its shaft. Behind you, one kneels down and presses its torso up against your back, a hand cupping your soaking sex and another kneading your breast.

“Here…!” Two more specters hovering over you tug at your arms impatiently, wrapping your hands around their own dicks. Obliging their requests, you stroke them lazily, eyes flitting between all of the spirits that surround you. The ones that are not latched to your body stand a short distance away, fisting themselves, undoubtedly staring at you get busy. Underneath their innumerable gaze, you’re exhilarated, and a thought flits through your mind- they’ll all have a chance to run you through later, and you’ll be able to experience it all in reality.

The specter shoves two fingers into your needy hole, grinding them against your sweet spot. You falter, but the specter that’s in your mouth clamps its hands around your head, sinking so deep that your face is flush with their crotch. The two rut into your tightened grip, gasping and groaning fills your head.

“So good…so good…Ah!”

When a finger flicks at your clit, you cum hard, body arching and thighs quaking. You’re stunned momentarily, and you swallow back the spit pooling in your throat, squeezing around the specter. Suddenly, its grip in your hair grows stronger, bordering on pain as it cums too, cold, thick liquid shooting into the back of your throat and covering your tongue. It tastes like nothing, you note, gasping for air when it detaches from you and releases its grip on your head.

What catches you off guard is the colour of its seed, a thick white substance that drips down your chin onto the floor between your legs, giving off an otherworldly glow. Immediately, another takes its place- the one on the right that had you fisting its cock guides it into your mouth and plugs you up again. This one is less patient, it holds you in place and fucks into your mouth. They use you like a sex toy, taking turns occupying your hands and mouth, grabbing at your chest and fingering your cunt. Any hesitation or endearing nervousness that occupied the specters has disappeared, and you’re elated. You lose count of how many have cum on you, they spill on your face, your chest, covering you in their ungodly semen. It becomes a dizzying cycle, and between your climaxes and theirs’, you lavish them with all that you can give, just as you did in your dreams. What you can take down your throat, you do gladly, an appreciative hum is your reward when you obediently swallow and accept the spurts of cum onto your body.

Suddenly, after a specter smears its cum across your tits, you’re pulled to your feet. Shaky and tired legs unable to support your body, you’re carried over to the altar that you saw earlier and laid upon it. It’s the perfect height, and you groan as a specter grinds its cock against your wet folds. Your legs are spread wide apart, and the empty spaces around you are quickly taken by eager spirits. They pause though, and seem to wait for something patiently. A name is called, something unintelligible, not in the human tongue, not anything you’ve heard before.

They say something in an alien tongue, and look upwards to the ceiling. There is something you didn’t notice before, the same sigil as the one on the door is painted there. In a split second, a collage of memories are made clear in your mind’s eye- you see offerings of wine and food, people kneeling before hulking statues and trees, orgies in secluded areas where hedonism flourishes, lush with the scent of sex and flowers.

The specter between your legs breaks you out of your reverie, and you’re suddenly in the basement once again, fully aware of your dripping cunt, the need. There’s an energy in the room that wasn’t there previously, charged and crackling. You groan when it fits its bulbous head against your entrance, hands kneading the flesh of your thighs as it enters you. And finally, finally you are one with them. You stare entranced at where you are joined, its thick, translucent cock stretching your starved cunt.

“Fuck me, please.” You rasp, throwing your head back when it begins to thrust into you, setting a brutal pace. Again, the specters crowd around you and put you to work. Closing your eyes, you lose yourself in the wave of pleasure, the friction of the heavy cock in your pussy, the numerous hands that guide you and delight in the touch of your skin.

“You…you…” The voice bristles in your head, and there it is again- snatches of that scene and the voice, it’s getting stronger. You can barely focus, between the ghostly bodies all around you and the thread of a connection to It. They’re both equally addictive- the delicious stretch and fill, the wandering hands all over your overstimulated body, and the irresistible draw to something powerful and primordial. Closer, closer, closer.

The specter fucking into you quivers, its pace quickening and its thrusts growing shallower. It’s about to cum inside you, and you wrap your legs around its translucent torso to force it even deeper inside. In response, its hands grab your hips with so much force that you’re sure they’re going to bruise.

“Perfect.” The word is whispered into the shell of your ear, low but with the power of a command. Instantly, you feel like euphoria has flooded your body, too much of it. Every sensation is painfully amplified, the bliss of each thrust between your legs rapturous and overwhelming. You cum, and the specter does too, you can feel its cold seed like ice in your hot, hot cunt, flooding you, seeping into your being. Every cell in your body is screeching from pleasure so high that it hurts.

“Oh. Too much?”

There’s tears streaming down your cheeks. Your thoughts are melting together and no words form on your tongue, all you can manage is a pathetic nod as your body seizes in agony and orgasmic bliss.

“Apologies, it’s been a while.” It says, and just as quick as it compelled you, the euphoria is sapped from your body. The relief is another form of pleasure, and as you relax, you feel a gush of liquid seep past where you’re joined to the specter- you’re squirting, a puddle of it forming on the altar and dripping onto the floor.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” It whispers again, cool and calm as you gasp for breath. “I like it.”

“What…what-” You’re cut off by the specter dragging its cock out of you, leaving you gaping for the next one in line. You let out a high-pitched whine as the mix of semen and your slick spills out of you. As though to comfort you, one specter cradles your cheek and promptly nudges its dick past your lips. They seem to be oblivious to the conversation going on, or they carry on in spite of it.

“Don’t think. Just let go.” Another cock is thrust into you, barely giving you any reprieve as it pounds into you, intent on getting you filled again.

What are you?

“A vague question gets you a vague answer.” It tuts, “I am the bliss that found its way into your dreams, the cruelty that left you wanting more, and the hunger that brought you back here to me.”

Hands reach out to pinch and twist your nipples and clit, forcing you to let out a muffled yelp.

“It hardly seems fair for you to pay little attention to those who have been fucking you so vigorously. Well, given that you can’t form a coherent thought, the ones that have you speared on their cocks are my most devoted followers. They have been so gracious as to offer their spirits for my perusal.”

And now you understand- it’s a god, an ancient deity on the ceiling looking down upon you, casting its impartial and frigid gaze on this debauchery, orchestrated for its sake.

“And you, my little pleasure, are the first taste of life I’ve had down here in a long time.” Its tone has a vicious bite, excitement palpable. At that, the specters, or puppets in you cum, the elation of their master influencing their own pleasure, no doubt. You choke around the cock forced down your throat, cutting off your breathing until it pulls free from you and you choke down air and seed.

You’re so replete, so tired, you’re not sure whether you can take anymore-

“You will.”

Warily, you sweep your gaze across the hoard of hungry spirits hunched over you.

“After all, isn’t this what you wanted?”

Throughout the night, you’re used over and over, your poor cunt fucked and filled more times than you can count. Just as you think it may end, another specter is between your legs, alternating between lapping up the mess between your legs and pumping its seed into you again. All while some ancient and cruel god speaks to you. With each climax, you feel your consciousness slipping further away, the teasing and praise of the voice in your ear growing ever more distant…

When you wake, you’re exhausted. The specters had disappeared, leaving you on the altar. Despite the throbbing in your core and muscles, you manage to pull your clothes back on and make your way up the stairs, the unpleasant stickiness of your skin urging you to get home as soon as possible so you can take a shower.

A draft sends a chill down your spine, a whisper like a caress brushes past you.

I’ll see you soon, little pleasure.

You’re relieved to see your corolla on the streetside, and as you limp to your car you make a mental note to pack up your equipment the next time you’re here.

#monster x reader #monster x human #terato #monster lover #terato writing #monster nsft #nsft #cult stuff #COTTON HAS FINALLY POSTED SOMETHING #HUZZAH!!!!!#exophilia

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plaguechyld · 6 months

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sub! Kokushibo x dom!fem! Reader?

Tysm if u make this since I barely see any sub kokushibo fics. Have a great day or night dearest!<3

tyty ! and i agree, there's next to no sub!kokushibou anywhere. may as well write some to change that <3

contains: dom!f!reader, afab!reader, sub!kokushibou, demon!reader, uppermoon0!reader, kind of hate sex, but not really, one-sided rivalry on kokushibo's part, softdom!reader, pegging, spanking, aftercare, smut to fluff

wc: 1425 words

Kokushibou despised you. He really did, after all how could some new demon, a freshly turned one at that, acquire a rank higher than his own? He had been a demon for centuries, honing his skill, becoming stronger and yet you were better. Better in the eyes of the demon king.

But... if he hated you so much then why was he here? Your body hovering over his own, still fully clothed whilst he was bare. All six of his eyes were half lidded as he chewed on his lip, trying to bite back each whine or moan that threatened to spill from his lips as you steadily fucked two of your fingers into him.

"Don't be so quiet, darling. Let me hear you." you'd whisper into his ear as your fingers continued stretching his hole, creating filthy squelching sounds from the generous amount of lubricant you had used.

"C-curse you, you damn siren- AHN!~" Kokushibou's hand slaps itself over his mouth but it's much too late to silence the embarrassingly loud whine he had let out when your fingers pressed right against his prostate.

His pale face is flushed a dark pink with how much he's blushing and sweat drips down his forehead at how much he's attempting to restrain himself. You, of course, didn't like that very much.

"You sound so cute, dear.. but you're aggravating me with how much you're trying to hold back." you hiss, landing a firm slap to Kokushibou's inner thigh, making him let out a soft squeak whilst he arches his back from the impact.

"Don't slap me you- MMN?! ♡" Kokushibou's eyes all flew open when you begin to continuously pad your fingers against that sweet spot nestled deep within his heat. He was helpless to stop his moans from being drawn out from him.

You merely chuckled at the cute reactions that the uppermoon was displaying. You weren't even doing much yet. Kokushibou cried out as your fingers were relentlessly shoved into his hole.

"Aw look at you, you're so wet here." you tease, free hand grabbing his cock. That made Kokushibou let out the cutest squeal, he really really couldn't take both of your hands on him. Obviously, you know this, which is why you were doing it in the first place.

"Curse~ NYGH!♡ y-you..." Kokushibou trails off, too busy getting adorable little "uh's uh's uh's" punched out of him. Well, fortunately for the demon moon, you're nowhere near done with him.

“Hm, is too much for you, baby? Can’t handle just my fingers? Oh you poor thing, I wonder how you’ll fair when I actually fuck you.” You coo in his ear in a low and teasing voice just to make Kokushibou squirm more.

“..can’t! can’t take y-your cock!” Kokushibou squeals, shaking his head before hiding his face in your shoulder, his large frame clinging onto yours as you pull your fingers from his hole and leave a string of wetness behind.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at him finally breaking his bratty streak, finding it amusing. “Oh? I think we can make it fit.” You say in a sultry voice, that teasing smirk once more visible on your charming face. Deity that ruined Kokushibou every time, he could never ever admit that he liked this. He loved it actually. He loved the feeling of his “rival” fucking him open on nothing but her fingers.

You don’t waste another moment positioning your dark black strap-on right against Kokushibou’s rim, watching as he squirms and tries to get away from the foreign feeling out of instinct. But just as usual your hands guide him back to his rightful place below you.

Slowly you begin pushing it in, slow thrusts in and out, working it deeper each time. Kokushibou’s moans are absolutely delicious as his trembling hands scramble to grab onto you.

“Ish t’m-uch! HNGH GYAH!~♡ N-name! Name!” Kokushibou fucking wails when you bottom out inside of him, your massive strap-on pressing right against his prostate. Poor poor Kokushibou, he just couldn’t handle it! He had never been on the receiving end of such sinful things before and his inactivity really showed through his sensitivity.

So he really really can’t help it when cum spurts from his cock the moment you’re fully inside of him. Kokushibou lets out the whiniest cry yet, arching his back like a slut as he orgasms, painting his chest white. His pretty gold and red eyes roll back in his head as his vision goes white with pure pleasure.

You hum, your hands finding his shaking thighs that had clamped around your waist in a deathhold. You rub slow circles on them, coaxing Kokushibou to come down from his high-on-pleasure state.

But you only have so much patience with the fucked out demon lying below you. So after waiting a little while you decide to have some fun.

“Did you just cum from me bottoming out? You really are a slut.” You degrade him with a silky smooth voice as your hips start moving without warning. Your eyes are narrowed with lust as you stare down at Kokushibou’s pretty pleasure filled face.

Your thrusts are slow at first but it's still enough to send Kokushibou flying into oversensitivity. “Puh- PLEASE!!~” Kokushibou wails as tears roll down his flushed cheeks.

“Too m-muuhh-ch! Sensi- mmhn~!!♡ N-no more- AHN!~” Kokushibou’s desperate begs and pleads for your mercy fall on deaf ears as you grab his hands, pinning the demons wrists above his head as you use your other hand to through one of his legs over your shoulder.

Kokushibou just cries more when you restrain him, not letting him grab onto your body and use it as an anchor. You lean down, kissing away the tears from each of his six eyes as you thrust deep into his warm heat, making him clench around you from the tenderness of the attention you gave him and the intensity of the pleasure he was experiencing.

“N-name..~” Kokushibou actually whines your name, wanting you to let go of him so that he can cling to your body again. You decide to take pity on the poor demon, releasing his wrists in favor of pushing his legs up beside his head.

Your strap hit deeper and deeper places in Kokushibou, making his moans and cries turn into wails and shouts. Your back was full of scratch marks that you chose not to heal. After all, why would you? Your darling spent effort on them. ♡

“Pleasheee~ slowwerr!~♡” Kokushibou cries, burying his face in your neck as you successfully fold him in half. Your hands have a bruising grip on his waist and he feels himself melt even more in your possessive grip.

“Shhh..” You whisper before silencing Kokushibou with a deep and searing kiss to his lips which he quickly leans into. Oh the poor baby, he tries so hard but it's impossible! Your mouth is on him, your strap is fucking his hole and now your hand is stroking his overly sensitive and flushed cock.

He arched his back even more than he was before as his legs shook rapidly. Another orgasm was fast approaching and all he could do was let out a weak, “MMNGH!! ‘M cumming!~” before he climaxes for the second time that night.

It’s quite adorable how he actually passes out for a moment, his body too overrun by pleasure to stay conscious. You figure you’ve had your fun with him, so now it's time to take care of his body.

Whilst he’s passed out you retrieve a warm wet wash towel from the nearby bathroom then return to his side. Tenderly you clean the cum off of his chest and tummy and wipe the excess lube from around his hole before discarding your strap on.

You set the rag down, too lazy to go and put it away at that moment and it's a good thing you didn’t get up because Kokushibou soon rose. He let out the softest whine, hands blindly searching for you as he tried to recover from his orgasms.

“I’m here, it's alright, Koku.” You murmur as you settle into bed next to the, for once, docile demon. He merely lets out a content sound before snuggling into your arms, too tired to say another word.

As the two of you drift off in each other’s arms a soft purring sound from Kokushibou can be heard… how sweet, he must really like you. Too bad you'll be getting an earful in the morning. ♡

do not: copy, translate or repost my works.

#dom reader #demon slayer #sub kny #kny #sub character #kny smut #kny x you #smut #n/sfw #sub kokushibo #soft dom #gentle domination

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cerise-on-top · 30 days

Note

Hii and could you do könig and nikto with a plus sized reader ? :)

Hey there! Sorry, but I don't write for Nikto! However, I made König's extra long to make up for it :>

König with a Plus Sized!Reader

I feel as though König would actually prefer someone on the bigger side. Not even in a weird fetishy way, he just likes tummies a lot. You could probably easily get him to lie on top of your tummy, holding onto you as though his life depended on it all the while nuzzling into it. You could beg him to let go of you, he likely won’t unless it’s an emergency. If you ever feel down about yourself then you can count on him to try and cheer you up. Not that he’s that good with people, always scared of saying something that could make the matter even worse, but by the Gods, if he won’t treat you like the deity you are. He doesn’t mean to be rude, but sometimes he can be caught staring at your tummy because he’s just that entranced by it. Yes, he’ll look away if you catch him staring, but can you blame him? With a tummy as cute as yours?

If anyone ever makes a mean comment about you being fat or ugly or anything, then König will actually just kill that person. He’s in the military, he knows all about being aggressive and relentless at the right time. You being harassed? That’s about the best time to intimidate, maim and kill someone. Yes, he doesn’t like confrontation outside of his job all that much, but what kind of partner would he be if he didn’t defend your honor? Come on now, have some faith in him, will you? He’s not afraid to get physical either. König probably knows more languages than English and German too since he’s rather high ranking, and he will most definitely cuss that asshole out in any one he knows. And if that doesn’t make the fucker feel bad? Yeah, he can talk with his fists as well. He makes it up to you by making you some delicious food. You want some Schweinsbratn? Some Käsespätzle? Just some good old Palatschinken mit Marillenmarmelade?? Yeah, he’s got you covered. Food always cheers him up, he hopes it does the same for you. He reveres you and will tell you that everything that clown said was absolute nonsense and they should by no means be listened to. If he has to, he will kiss your tummy all night just to make you feel better. Not that he wouldn’t do it anyway, but he has a reason to now.

You can say whatever you want about König, mans loves to eat himself, which means he probably has some chub too. I don’t think he’d be self conscious about it per se, but if you ever feel down about your size then he’ll remind you that he’s not super thin either. Sure, he’s muscular, but he’s got some tummy too. Besides, I also think that he would actively work out to be able to pick you up whenever he can. Yes, you might be a little heavy, but he’s a military man, he can handle that. Will pick you up and spin you around since there’s probably no way anyone will ever do that for him again. He’ll also kiss your face as he picks you up. Depending on how he’s able to hold you, he might also rock you back and forth a little bit, just to tease you. Yes, he’s the big and scary colonel, but that doesn’t mean he’s not completely and absolutely enamored by you.

I think when you’re doing something mundane, such as cooking or washing the dishes, he’d love to come up from behind you and wrap his arms around you, resting his hands on your tummy. Yes, he will grope and squeeze it as well. Unless you absolutely hate him doing that, in which case he’ll stop. But you could never have him not have his hands on your tummy. It’s just so soft, you know? You’re so soft and he loves you so much, it’s unreal. The first thing he always does after coming home from deployment is wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you close, and feeling how soft and warm you are. Another big plus about you being rather big is the fact that you have soft thighs. You will catch him asking you if he can put his head in your lap fairly often. Yes, he has shame and doesn’t want to bother you, but how could he not?

So, overall, König is a very supportive man. He will smother you in love and make sure you know your worth. Will kill for you, but that’s beside the point. Loves you being big and will probably be touching you and your plush body more often than he won’t. And if you tell him that you like his tummy too? He’s a goner. He might as well just marry you this instant, propose immediately and make you the happiest person alive. He loves you and it shows in everything he does.

#cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #konig #könig #konig x reader #könig x reader

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 7 months

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A Spark To Ignite (Bodyguard!141 x Famous!Reader Preferences) Mild NSFW

Summary: You see each other every day. He works to keep you protected - a perk of your job and his. Occasionally feeling moments of passion and promises of something more between you two are only normal, right?

AN: I've got another bodyguard!AU for the 141 that's more angst based. I'll post that later. I've also got a Price x Escort!Reader in the works plus the end of "Star-crossed in the Crosshairs". Let me know if you have any requests/anything you'd rather see first <3

Content warning: Minors DNI, 18+ only, allusions to sexual tension/arousal, second person, no use of Y/N

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Another notification of being tagged in the same paparazzi image hit your notification inbox, yet you still opened it and shared a giddy grin at the Instagram feed.

You hadn’t been fussed about going running; it was the company rather than the activity that attracted you. But one thing you were certain about the sport was that no one ever looked flattering whilst doing it.

Yet there he was, your Kyle, looking like a model for Sports Direct. He was snapped midstride, his biceps practically rippling in the glow of the morning sun. There was even a hint of his lean washboard torso with the flap of his t-shirt’s raised coyly.

However, his dimpled smile aimed was the main focus of the headline – mainly because it was aimed at you and your equally elated expression. You blamed the euphoria of exercised endorphins but the way the photo was framed (plus the gaudy text declaring it so) made it seem as if you and Kyle were a true couple in love. It looked incredibly staged. Kyle was an “unknown” though so most budding theorists did not support any claims of it being a publicity stunt. Just two lovers out on a jaunty little run together.

You saved then added the photo to the folder of photos that captured you out with your bodyguard and the headlines that (sadly) misidentified him as your new boyfriend.

“Hey Kyle!”

Blending some fruits. His duties did not include head chef but you had long since allowed him access to your kitchen, even storing some of his favourites around the cupboards and fridge in case he fancied a snack.

Your phone was thrust up into his eyeline, you beaming behind it, “Another Pulitzer.”

Abandoning his smoothie temporarily, Kyle cupped his hand around yours to steady your swaying phone.

“They need to up their standards. Taking you for a jog is hardly a date you deserve,” He commented.

“Ooo, do tell: what do I deserve?”

“Well,” Kyle began pouring the smoothie into a glass, “I could go classic, take you to out on the town to a special place only I know about.”

You leaned onto your elbows, chin resting in your palms, cheeks creased in a cheeky smile. “Mm-hmm.”

“Wine you, dine you, treat you like a deity,” Kyle said as if he was listing off menial tasks on his day to day whilst collecting another glass for the remaining smoothie. “Take you back to mine if you fancied it, another drink whilst we talk the night away and time passing without us noticing.” Graciously, he slid the other one across the countertop, and your fingers locked against his warm ones wrapped against the cool glass. “Then work up a sweat in a whole other way.”

Blinking away the glaze that had coated your eyes, you restrained the urge to gulp back your desire. A fresh breath in your lungs recovered you quickly and you managed to conjure a teasing quip amidst the fog that had settled over your thoughts.

“Think you could keep up with me?” You said before sipping the smoothie.

The sweetness of it countered Kyle’s smirking reply: “You and I both know I can more than handle you.”

“Better train harder then,” You said, proud of yourself for not stumbling over your playful banter, “I’m a catch, so you better be fast enough.”

“Jog, same time tomorrow?”

“Sure.” And, not missing in the reflection of the oven door how Kyle – for a split second – looked you up and down, you did your best not to collapse or squeal during your return to the sitting room.

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Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

You leant against the ropes of the new boxing ring with a panting chest and aching legs. Jellied bones dared to let you collapse to the ground but at least, since your self-defence training had begun, you were lasting the full session rather than just after the warm-up.

“I think we’re done for today! Did good, held your own.” Johnny gave you a hearty slap on your back that almost ricocheted you off the ropes. “I’ve still got a few reps to get in.” He leapt out the ring and swigged from his water bottle, tossing you your own.

“Show-off!” You called out after him, though all in good fun, as you caught your bottle and your breath.

Technically, since you didn’t have anything else to do, you could get a head-start on getting cleaned up. You were in the privacy of your own gym, added at your request so that Johnny could train you better and you could do so without being ogled or papped.

Quite hypocritical it was then, that you lingered in the ring to watch Johnny stack up his weights on either side of the bar (the ones you purchased as part of his perks of working for you).

Your day-job came in handy with pretending to do some cooldown stretches, sipping from and pouring your water bottle over yourself. Well, you were actually doing those things but acting as if they were the only things that occupied your thoughts was the main role you were playing. From the corner of your eye, you observed Johnny squatted with a stack of weights lining each shoulder. God, those arms were practically popping, his thighs bulging with the effort of remaining planted on the floor and folding up and down beneath the hefty set. Mesmerising, you forgot to keep up your pretence by the second load of reps.

It left your lips before you could reconsider for the tenth time: “Bet you couldn’t lift me.”

Soap paused in a deep squat and looked up through his lashes at you. Meeting his steely blue gaze was easier than anticipated but maintaining it as he righted himself and rested the weights back on the rack with a restrained grunt was the difficult part.

At first, you thought maybe his silence was his answer. Then Johnny knelt down and assumed the plank position.

“Get on,” He said, loud and clear.

You still doubted him, “Seriously?”

“You made the bet. Now lie in it.”

As elegantly as possible, you dismounted the ring before making your way over to his side. He showed no signs of tiredness during your journey, nor did he when you balanced yourself across his broad back.

“Ok, ready,” You said, your voice close to wobbling.

And so it began. Up and down, you could feel how his body sustained you through both your and his workout gear. His back muscles rippled beneath you and his elbows kissed yours each time he lowered you both to the floor. Out of nowhere, you began giggling and you couldn’t figure out how to put a stop to it. Giddiness flooded your entire system until you were beyond drunk.

Suddenly, your world tilted and you rolled off onto the mat but Johnny refused you any respite, flipping you over onto your back again, like a pancake.

“I win,” He panted, “What’s my prize?”

Still giggling, you felt your cheeks burning at the sight of him hovering over you, his skin glowing, his chest panting. His unrelenting stare had you locked beneath him, barred between his trunk-like arms. If this was your prison, you’d commit any offence to stay in there. God you were so close you could kiss him-

Nope.

“You finish your workout early so you can have a nice hot shower sooner?” You said, covering your mouth to cough and clear your airways of whatever shit you breathed in to make you even consider making out with your bodyguard. You must’ve looked so daft; you blamed the endorphins. Then you blamed Johnny completely as he started to laugh down at you, sending your thighs quaking as he crawled off you and ordered you to get cleaned up – that he’d be in shortly after as a hint to not use all the hot water. As you drifted back to the bathroom, you tried not to think about him in the shower or how you wanted to offer to scrub him down.

-----------

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Say the word and I’ll have him removed.”

For a man so stoic and intimidating, Simon sure made you smile a lot. You needed it after that… “interesting” conversation with one of the party’s guests – someone who you knew to be a detractor behind your back.

“It’s fine, really,” You insisted with a winning smile.

Casting a glance over your shoulder where your shadow dutifully remained was a reward you would never be exhausted of. Simon looked so good in his tux. Plus he’d humoured you and worn the silk black mask rather than his usual. You were brimming with privilege at seeing his hair styled beyond the flattened fuzz it would take on after being beneath the balaclava for twenty hours at a time. Even more so, you got to see his tattoos pairing nicely with them like a good bottle of wine.

You could hear the smirk hiding beneath his mask. His veined hands clasped firmly in front of him as he leant close, just his mask separating his lips and your ear.

“We could make a break for it. Ditch these twats. Get a drive-thru.”

He knew you never would agree to it; this gala meant a lot to you. Such a tempting offer though, in such a tempting voice too. His rough tone did nothing but delight you when you heard it. Turning to look at him, you took note of the two mere inches between your face and his.

He continued, “You’ve shown your face long enough.”

“Getting jealous of them stealing my attention?” You asked provocatively.

Simon let out a low laugh, shaking his head fondly with just a hint of patronising, “That’s funny, sweetheart.”

“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of people who are dying to still talk to me.” You gestured with the glass he’d gotten (and checked for any malicious interference) for you around at the room, those who would never have the privilege of being a part of your and Simon’s bubble.

“Just as long as you and everyone else knows that I’m the one who takes you home.”

The implications of that statement swelled in your chest, nestling into your heart like a cat in a warm patch of sunlight. Intently, he looked at your face for your reaction. That was the thing with Simon: always observing, recording every flicker, every possibility in that incredible mind of his. You were certain he could see into your soul with those all-seeing eyes. He kept you safe, kept you on your toes, kept you happy.

But the bubble burst before you could hit back and you abruptly checked yourself back into work mode. The person who’d spoken loud enough to bring you back down to Earth didn’t seem to notice your slip up. You, however, were more than acutely aware of Simon’s lingering presence at your side. So close the hairs on your arm extended on goosebumps, coaxing and begging to touch him.

As you were once again left alone, you found yourself stifled by your need to be nearer to Simon and quickly decided the alcohol was to blame. “I need the bathroom.”

“This way.” His hand grazing the small of your back had an impact tripled, but you managed to submit it to travelling through your nose, rather than gasping out your mouth. But you were certain that Simon had caught you. He never missed a thing.

-----------

John "Bravo Six" Price

After shaking hands again with the presenter and declaring a few thanks to the crew, you were guided straight to the dressing room by Price. You took off your own microphone and handed it to him, which he immediately passed to a nervous stagehand. Your name in Arial font on an A4 sheet of paper greeted you from the dressing room door.

Sometimes you needed that extra time to decompress and he knew before you did more often than not. Today was not one of those days, though you did request to stop and pick up the bouquet that had been there to welcome you in when you first arrived. It was so large, your favourites blooming in the dew-dropped cellophane, that you had trouble waving to the folks who’d stuck around at the barrier, Price’s arms keeping you walking and guiding you towards the car.

For your safety, you had to go in the back where the tinted windows offered you a hint of privacy. It was a thorn in your side though. You longed to sit beside Price as he fought playfully with you over the music, grumbled with the directions his phone offered, collected your drive-in order. Then maybe your daydream of being his partner could have a little more to stand on.

A true gentleman as well as your protector, Price walked you up to the house and let you set up your evening meal while he made final checks to secure your house again. Normality for you was hearing him walk around and jiggle door handles and returning only when he was certain none had been tampered with and your cameras were fully functioning.

“Anything else you need from me before I leave for the night?” He asked, standing at ease in front of you.

You gestured to the bouquet you were cradling like a baby, “Thank you for the flowers.”

His brows furrowed for a split second then a sheepish smile smoothed out the lines in his forehead, highlighting his eyes instead.

“You caught me,” He said quietly, sparing a look at the flowers he asked the host to order for you, then back at you.

Squinting mischievously, you asked, “Were you really hiding it?”

“I suppose not.” He let his smile soften and dull. Back to business. Yet you could’ve sworn he glanced at your mouth before he asked, “Anything else you need?”

Your heart yearned to beg him to stay and tell you what else he did behind the scenes without a hint of expecting more, so that you could show him how much you cared in an appropriately equal response. His favourite whiskey perhaps for when he was off duty, or one day doing something together that he wanted to do so it wasn’t just looking after you. It was more than that, the job. He’d told you so. But you didn’t want to just be a job to him.

Quietly, you maintained your decorum, “No, thank you.”

John nodded his head, “Of course.”

It was as he was about to cross the threshold when you started to ask, “Do you-”

Not even three words made it out before Price whipped around, already returning to where he’d stood before. You could feel your lungs struggling under the strain of maintaining steady breathing at the gesture, suspending all the blood in your face (and maybe your groin). It stopped your question in its path, as if it was waiting until Price was listening attentively (he always was for you).

“Yes?” He prompted, his voice soft as if to coax you out of your hideout.

Fidgeting with the bouquet still, you cleared your throat and began again, “Do you want to join me, for dinner?”

Price’s hands, now at his sides, tapped on his thighs thrice before he said, “Two conditions.”

“Name them.”

Perhaps you said that a little too quickly because it made him laugh, which only made things worse for you. You had a real weakness for that laugh.

“You teach me whatever you’re planning on making, and you let me help you make it.”

Your heart accelerated and you dismissed his with a smile and a slight self-deprecating remark to soften the weight of this decision you were both making: “It’s nothing special.”

“Those are my terms,” Price insisted. His eyes creased as a smile grew on his face, more beautiful than the flowers forgotten the second you placed them into the vase. But at least it gave you to excuse to look away and gather your expression into something more collected as you ordered him to go and wash his hands.

#kyle garrick fanfic #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish fanfic #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley fanfic #ghost x reader #john price x reader #john price fanfic #captain john price x reader #cod x reader #cod fanfic #my writing #preferences #r: gn

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 7 months

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Ooh! Can you do like isekai cooking reader? Basically, reader died but she wasn't meant to die so soon. So, she was granted 3 wishes which is she wants to own a restaurant, she wants to lives in another universe and finally, she hoped to find a better family wherever she ends up....

And she ends up in RoR universe! I imagine the confusion when out of nowhere, a door appear in the arena, and which led to a a gorgeous restaurant being taken care of by a pre-teen reader. She serves delicious food and drinks, and also tell the RoR gods, humans fighters and Valkyries how she ends up there. And maybe a twist that she can't left her restaurant until she has a reliable guardian, which was a term set by the God or Goddess granting her wish, because she is still a child, and a child wandering around aimlessly is dangerous.

-It had started with an accident, one that took you from your life so early, you were so young, but so selfless for what you had done, saving another.

-When you passed, you had been blessed with the option to have three wishes, anything you wanted, and you couldn’t help but grin, looking so elated despite knowing that you were dead.

-And thus, your three wishes were granted, with one to come in time- but your first two were granted, as you wanted to be like the anime characters you’ve seen, wanting to go to another world, and to own your own restaurant! The third was that you wanted a family, one that kept you safe, doted on you, and loved you, as you had never had that experience before, and you so desperately wanted that.

-Your restaurant was always stocked with everything you needed, including equipment- you never had to go shopping for anything, and upstairs was an apartment, just for you, once again with everything you needed to live comfortably and happy!

-The one downside was that the deity who blessed you with these wishes made it so you were unable to leave until you found a guardian or guardians that would take care of you, as you were still a child.

-Your door appeared all around a place called Valhalla, allowing anyone to enter, gods, valkyries, and humans, and while they had no idea where this mysterious door came from, so many were stunned to see you there, a child.

-Your food was delicious, being unlike anything they had ever had before, and you handled everything, cooking, baking, and serving everyone you came through your door with a bright smile.

-That’s why it was so shocking the day of Ragnarok, before the first fight, your door appeared in the center of the arena. Those who knew the door quickly rushed to the arena, to defend you, stunning many to see gods and humans working together.

-It made them realize that they can get along, they can work together if they would just put their mind to it.

-Those who didn’t know this door approached as well, and soon all fighters for both sides, including the valkyries, questioning those who had defended the door.

-When the crowd walked in, seeing the large but still cozy looking restaurant, many of the newbies were stunned- it’s not what they had been expecting.

-You came around the corner, seeing the crowd and you beamed brightly, “Welcome to Sunshine!” seeing you there- seeing a child, many were stunned.

-Loki ran over, throwing his arms around you, spinning you around, “Y/N!!” you squealed with delight, enjoying the embrace as you beamed, “Hi Loki- you want your usual today?” he snuggled you even harder, “Of course I do~~”

-Zeus approached you next and you smiled warmly at him, bowing your head, “Welcome to Sunshine- I’m Y/N- the owner and cook!” he was stunned, hearing this, “But- but you’re so young!” your cheeks puffed up, pouting, showing your age, “I’m thirteen- I can do this!”

-Hearing this, hearing how young you were made many of them grow concerned for you, like Adam, who ruffled your hair gently, “Are you safe here? Do you have a guardian?” You shook your head to his second question, “I am safe here- this place is like a neutral zone so nobody can hurt me, and I don’t have a family if that’s what you mean.”

-You faintly heard boss music in the background, unsure of where it was coming from as many started to exude an aura of immediate adoption as you went around, giving out hot towels, ice water, and menus for those who didn’t know what they wanted, and you got to work.

-You were a pro in the kitchen, easily able to whip up meals and desserts, serving everything with a smile. The food was delicious, everything tasted so fresh, so comforting, it made many think of their younger days, of when they didn’t have to fight all the time.

-Many looked around the room, seeing gods and humans and valkyries sitting together, enjoying their meals together, it was surreal, seeing once again that peace was an option, if they were to work together.

-You were like a child when you got to step out of the door, after so many of them shouted that they were adopting you, making you collectively their child, which you didn’t mind, and you ran around the arena, having fun, finally being free.

-You told them how you had died, and that the restaurant was one of your wishes, as well as going to another world- but your last wish was to have a family, and the deity made it so you couldn’t leave your safe space unless if you had a family, which you had now.

-They were all happy to see you so happy, as now you were free and able to do as you pleased in this world, your new home, but you were still going to run your restaurant- as that’s what made so many happy, which made you happy, seeing people enjoying a good meal!

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror loki #ror adam #ror zeus

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parznite · 1 year

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I finished my Dusk Strider Moon and Dawn Walker Sun designs for my DREAMWEAVER AU. You can find more of them under the tag "dreamweaver dca AU" More information below the cut or HERE

DREAMWEAVER ( A DCA AU)

The manifestation of Dreams and Nightmares, two deities that control the Dream and Nightmare Realm separately. Both entities, created by the cosmos to protect enlighten mortals of the reasons for their dreams. One of pure dream essence while the other condensed nightmare fuel. While the two deities are very opposite, they work together on the fine line of balance. The two of them having their own wisps that they send out to do their bidding for them while they discuss more important matters. Usually entering the mortal realm to take in the sights and observe the ways of mortals. Dawn Walker blessing those with wonderful thoughts of dreams and daydreaming fantasies. While Dusk Strider instils anxiety and fear, allowing doubts to shine for nightmares later.

Dawn Walker or Sundrop; is the protector and guardian of the Dream Realm. A positive deity with a love of watching others accomplish their wildest dreams and willing them to pursuit them. Dawn usually has his overly ambitions dreams twisted into partial nightmares when Dusk adds his own touch of terror. Dawn has Dream Wisps that carry onto mortals during the day so they may have fulfilling dreams. Similar to Dusks Nightmare Wisps, they are pure essence of which realm they carry. Sometimes colliding with one another, which is a good explanation for those dreams that take a sudden turn.

Dusk Strider or Moondrop; is the protector and guardian of the Nightmare Realm. A pessimistic optimist who dabbles doubts to one throughout the day so night terrors shine at night. Sometimes his nightmare fuel gets out of hand, bringing stronger terrors to peoples minds than anticipated. When this happens, Dusk feels terrible, usually urging Dawn to bring enlightenment the following night. Dusk doesn't like his purpose as much as one would think, usually instilling the doubts for others on himself so mortals will not have to feel that burden.

The two of them compliment each other very well when it comes to their powers. Dawn doing what he can to soothe the nightmares Dusk brings to himself and others. While most do not like the nightmares Dusk brings, he knows his powers are just as important. Dusk usually works very closely with Dawn to ensure the doubts he instils aren't to much for a mortal to handle. Usually having the Nightmare wisps do most of his work. Hoping it will allow his mind an ease encase the fuel burns to bright and he has to take the pain upon himself.

Dawn hates knowing his partner suffers from his own terrors at times, but always reassures Dusk that his terrors aren't real. He knows he doesn't mean to bring the negativity all the time, seeing the efforts he puts in to bring said terrors to himself so others can rest easy.

While they have their disagreements at times, they know they couldn't live without each other. Complimenting each other as companions and partners. Through their journies to the mortal realm, they often find themselves with piqued curiosity. Choosing a mortal they will follow with the understanding they are invisible to those around them. That is until they encountered someone who can see them and their antics. Interesting the deities, they decided to drop in on the life of the moral more to discover the wonders of mortals. While also discovering themselves in the process.

The two are painfully unaware that others around them can hear and see them, assuming no one can. Which is why Y/N seeing them is such a big deal to them.. maybe someone should tell them? Occasionally through their travels, Dawn Walker and Dusk Strider find themselves running into the agent of chaos who rules over the limbo. The realm in between the Dream and Nightmare realm, where wisps get lost and dreams fall on deaf ears. Twilight Stalker or Eclipse, a deity who sees more fun in what lies in the middle of the realms, than the joys or horrors of either side. While he isn't the most prominent in their lives, he always seems to pop in when you least expect him too.

#parznite #dreamweaver dca au #daycare attendants #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moondrop #fnaf sundrop #sundrop #moondrop #daycare attendant #fnaf dca #dca fandom #dca au #dreamweaver au

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legendsgalore · 18 days

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Danger in the Deep

The farmer gets injured and collapses in the mine, who rescues them...? 6k words.

“Ah fuck fuck fuck.” You called out, too breathless to even shout, just a stream of consciousness falling from your lips at this point.

You twist in midair, trying to aim so you could come down with a sword stab on the attacking monsters, but you over judged the distance when you jumped and now are too far away. Instead you let yourself land on your feet, close to the edge of one of the water pools around you.

As you catch your balance, waving your arms a little to do so, you feel something hard *cRaCk* into your back and you gasp out in pain. It startles you enough that you topple forward and fall into the water.

“Fuc-” Splash! In you go. Instincts kick in and you fight for the surface, spluttering water as you push above.

But as you’re inhaling air, another *cRaCk* and you cry out in pain.

“Ahh! I swear, to whatever deity out there, Caldarus, or that ghost priestess lady, I will make you regret, ever, being, born!” A little breathy, but you hoped that the trio of iron ore covered rocks currently spitting more rocks at you got the idea.

They just spat more rocks at you and you dove to the side to avoid them, and hurriedly pulled yourself over the bank on the other side of the pool. You’re unsteady on your feet, barely any health left, and stumble once and nearly fall back into the water. On your feet now, you twist to dodge another rock barrage, and then turn back to look at the water, and eye the distance between the two banks.

With one nod to yourself, more for self reassurance, you hold your iron sword out to the side, run and leap over the distance. In midair you twist your shoulder to bring your sword over your head, and your other hand finds a grip on the weapon’s handle.

Just before you land in the middle of the three rocks, you release a battle cry and twist once more so that all your body weight and momentum is behind the sword, who’s point is facing downwards.

You land with an audible crunching noise into the ground, and the shockwave of force knocks all three iron rock monsters back, stunning them. Taking advantage of their momentary distraction you yank your sword out of the ground and start going to town on the nearest one.

It doesn’t even get a chance to recover from being stunned before its existence is forcibly removed by you, and you get to work on the second just as it finishes recovering.

You continue swiping your sword, even as the monster shoots another trio of rocks at you in defense, *cRaCk*, and your stubbornness wins out and it too, perishes.

Just as you catch your breath, something hard slams into your back *cRaCk* and your vision goes black for a moment in pain.

“Gah!” You can’t help but cry out, that hurt so bad.

Whirling around, you see the third monster you had somehow forgotten about. It was already gearing up to launch another barrage of rocks, those three pronged attacks that always hit you no matter how you dodged, thanks to your unfamiliarity with the pattern.

Forcing your feet to move, even when they feel so heavy like your boots were made of pure iron, you push forward and start attacking the last enemy. Once again you ignore dodging attacks in favor of just, killing it already!

You hack and swipe and stab your sword, ignoring the *cRaCk* *cRaCk* *cRaCk* as two attacks graze you, and on the third, you stab the rock into oblivion, but its last attack still nails you in the chest, causing you to stumble and fall. Your head hits the ground, and the rocks, hard.

“Ahgh!” You cry out in pain, again. You swore you might have heard something crack in you that time. Head injuries are no joke you know, but your head is so fuzzy that you can barely even think that.

You lie there for who knows how long, nausea washing up and away like the beach tide, as you breathe into the silence, wavering between holding back your whimpers and being unable to.

The Upper Mines were nothing compared to this. You were so unprepared, no armor, nothing. Three of those rock enemies who all take so many hits and just, keep, attacking.

Finally, your thoughts collect themselves enough that you realize you should probably sit up. The realization that you were so out of it that it didn’t even occur to you before scares you. You sway a lot, but you stay sitting up so you count it as a victory.

Tenderly you reach and push against your sternum where the last attack hit, and the pain is so intense it almost makes you black out.

It’s all you can do to remain sitting up for another stretch of time, but eventually your awareness comes back to you and you feel in control again. Even though you’re not pushing on your likely cracked sternum, your vision wavers and is fuzzy on the edges.

Looking around you, you note that the cavern you’re in is now empty, but the elevator is on the other side of that pool you crossed earlier.

You breathe out deeply, and wince at the fresh wave of pain that causes. Your whimper echoes in the cavern, and you shut your eyes tightly for a moment.

Gathering your willpower, you move your leaden feet again, feeling your leg muscles tremble as you stand up. Giving yourself a moment to adjust to the wave of black spots that rush your vision from the action, you eventually move to the edge of the water pool.

At the edge of the water, you debate internally whether to jump or swim, and you decide that you don’t want to risk being unable to climb back up the bank, so it’s jumping for you.

Pushing down your whimpers, you would shake your head if it didn’t hurt so much, and just force your body to move.

Taking a few steps back, you forcefully push your muscles into action, feeling strength course through your limps and pump out a few powerful steps before leaping over the water. You can’t help but smile in pride for yourself being able to do that much, and that all you need to do is head back down that hallway and then you’ll be right next to the elevator and will just be able to ride it up and out of the mines - until your vision just outright blacks out midair and your jump turns into a crashing leap.

You can’t even twist to try to land on your back, and your legs throb as you land badly, and then they go out from underneath you and you collapse in an awkward pile of limps and, again, your head hits the ground, hard.

____________________________________________________________________________

Balor is very casually leaned against the entrance of the Mines, holding a Snowdrop Anemone in his hand. He turns it over, examining the rare flora.

You had passed by him early this morning and had just simply handed him this very desirable flower. He didn’t understand you. You hadn’t put it in the shipping bin, you had apparently just found it and gave it to him because, he was there?

Your words had been “Just because you deserve it!” And that didn’t make things any clearer.

So here he was, back where he saw you that morning, pondering the meaning behind your actions. He was hoping to catch you as you came out of the Mines, no one in town had seen you since you went in and it was nearing dark, so you were bound to come out any moment.

All of a sudden, despite the summer weather, Balor felt a chill reach up his spine, as if something was permeating his body. It reached his head and before Balor could panic about the feeling he heard something on the breeze.

‘Help….mines….deepest…’

There was no way. But Balor felt that earlier chill seize his muscles and spurn him into action and before he knew it he was by the elevator inside the Mines.

“Hello! Are you there!!” Balor called out your name but there was no response.

Logic told him you should be fine, you had gone into the Mines literally everyday this past week, but that chill lingered in his bones and Balor couldn’t ignore it.

But he didn’t have a weapon and if you really were hurt, him being unarmed wouldn’t help the situation so he turned and ran out of the Mines. He needed to get a weapon.

His chest was heaving by the time he ran up to the Blacksmith’s, where he could see Olric helping March cool down the anvil and forge for the night, it was that late. They turned to look at him, and he watched as their curious but mild expressions immediately morphed into concern when they saw how hurried he was.

“Balor what’s-” Olric began but Balor spoke over him.

“Sell me a weapon now.”

March crossed his arms and frowned, stepping forward. “What for and why do you need it so desperately?”

Balor tolerated March’s prickliness because everyone knew how much he cared but the merchant felt frustration bubble up anyways, he had no time for that right now.

“The farmer is hurt in the mines and I need to go down and help her.”

The brothers’ eyes widened and they looked at each other. For a second no one said anything before they burst into action, Olric running inside shouting over his shoulder; “Gonna fetch the kit!” And March reached into the pile next to the still-cooling anvil and pulled out two swords.

His frown turns into a scowl and he thrusts the weapon at Balor, who takes it and turns to make his way to the Mines.

“Wait the fuck up, Olric is getting the first aid kit.” March calls out, his voice rough.

“Are you..coming?” Balor asks.

March scoffs, “Yeah of course we are. Olric literally worked down there he knows how to deal with all manners of problems. And I’m not just giving that to you, I want it back.”

The blacksmith nods at the weapon in Balor’s hands and he nods in return. Fair enough. But then…

“Why are you coming?”

March scowls even further somehow and holds up the sword in his hands. “Better two than one. Besides, I need to see what she’s gotten herself into this time and if she’s…”

The blacksmith’s face reddens and he makes a “tch” sound and looks to the door of the building. Balor narrows his eyes appraisingly at the redhead. Does he…?

Before the merchant can follow that train of thought Olric bursts out of the Blacksmith’s with a backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Sorry! It wasn’t where it was supposed to be!” The retired Mines worker calls out.

“It’s fine let’s just go!” March falls in step with his brother as they, without pause, begin running to the Mines and Balor startles and has to catch up to the two.

It’s dark out, enough that fireflies scatter away from the trio as they run to the Mines. Balor is now convinced something is wrong because you’re usually out of the Mines by this point and you always first stop by the Blacksmith’s to make some bars out of the ore you find.

Looking at March and Olric’s faces, Balor knows the same thoughts are racing through their heads.

Heading into the ground floor of the Mines, the men stop by the elevator, and the brothers turn to look at Balor.

“What floor is she on?” March demands.

Realizing that he didn’t know for sure, Balor pauses, before remembering the chill from earlier and that message he heard. “Help…mines…deepest…”

He grips his sword harder and tells them, “She’s on the lowest floor this goes.”

March nods, and turns to his brother, “You know how to work this right? Get us down there.”

Olric hefts his backpack onto his back and says, “All right! Let’s go then!” And is the first to step onto the elevator.

Balor and March join him, and Olric remembers how to lower them so they begin heading into the darkness.

Balor hasn’t been into the Mines before, was content to just let you go and get those precious gems and such for him, and the rickety, old, wooden elevator doesn’t make him feel any better about this trip.

He catches glimpses of floors every so often, every five according to the number counter on the elevator, and they look dreary and dusty, and there are definitely plenty of monsters on them. Balor swears internally.

He on some level knew the danger the Mines posed to you, but to be confronted with it like this almost makes him feel bad for just letting you go by yourself with nothing but a “Good luck!” call.

He would try to deny caring for you as he always does, but by this point he doesn't think he can really do that. You’re his…precious business partner after all. A valued supplier.

March doesn’t swear internally though, his voice isn’t loud enough to echo but it’s still a startling departure from the silence that had only been broken by the creaking of the elevator.

“Fuck. I didn’t realize there were this many monsters down here. Olric, is this typical?” The blacksmith looks to his brother, who shakes his head.

“No, they stayed away from us, ‘cause I think there were so many of us. And we all got given weapons by Errol so even if one did show up we could handle it as a group.”

March swears again, “So that means the monsters are worse thanks to the Mines getting shut down, and she’s been by herself, against multiple enemies. Fucking-I should have said something!”

The blacksmith’s hand is white-knuckled around his sword and he shakes it once, as if he wanted to hit a table to let out his frustration but hitting the rickety elevator is not an option.

The intensity of March’s upset takes Balor aback. Of course anyone would be worried about the new farmer that has captured the heart of the town, but March has also been quite standoffish to them. The merchant’s instincts fire up inside him, something is up here.

And once more, before Balor can follow that train of thought, Olric calls out to them.

“We’re here!” Just before the elevator jerks to a halt.

The stop is sudden enough that Balor has to catch his footing before he stumbles off the shaking platform. Olric is fine, used to it, and surprisingly, March is fine too, glaring into the blueish-toned darkness as if it personally offended him.

Before the elevator stops swaying, March has leapt off the platform and stomped into the darkness. Olric joins after waiting for the platform to stabilize more, and Balor takes a glance at the floor number before following suit.

Floor 35…

From the elevator it’s a long and narrow hallway, where March takes the lead, with Olric close behind him. Balor realizes that at some point, the charge for this rescue mission was taken from him by the blacksmith, and that further piques his instincts that something is up. But this isn’t the time to wonder.

The two brothers are at ease in the caverns, Olric of course being familiar with the Mines, though perhaps not this deep, and somehow March has a confident grip on his weapon. Though he could be masking his uncertainty. Not that Balor could say anything about being out of his depth here.

He’s used a sword of course, but he hasn’t faced any real danger in a long time, not since before the earthquake when he was doing more traveling. But, he thinks back to the Snowdrop Anemone in his pocket, he would do a lot to make sure that you were safe.

The thought scares him, it crept up on him. You did in fact, somehow, despite his efforts to keep people at an arm’s length away, you had wiggled into the small group of people he cared about (aka the town of Mistria).

Perhaps that was what March was thinking through right now too. Balor peers at the blacksmith’s expression, but it’s too dark and he’s too far ahead to get a good read on him. He turns instead to Olric, who looks determined and mildly perplexed?

“Did you ever go this deep?” He asks curiously.

Olric shakes his head. “No, I didn't even, uh, know the Mines went this deep. We only mined copper ore on the upper floors, but uh, I thought the Mines ended at floor 20? I remember there being a sealed door or something…”

He trails off and Balor and his brother turn to stare at him with a weirded-out expression.

“What do you mean they didn’t go this deep? The elevator goes this far at the least and she’s down here.” March demands.

Olric furrows his eyebrows, “Yeah but the elevator stopped on the floor with the door, it was broken and didn’t go further..”

He pauses, opens his mouth, and closes it, and they all turn to stare down the hallway at where the elevator was hidden in the darkness.

“You mean she’s the one who fixed the elevator?! How would she know how, how would she know how to do it safely?! Did Errol and Eiland not consider this?!” March’s voice gets louder as the sentence goes on.

Olric looks stricken, and Balor shakes his head and puts a hand on the blacksmith’s shoulder.

“We can ask these questions later, for now I see some light up ahead.” He points down the hallway and indeed, there is a faint blue glow illuminating a turn in the path.

Breathing out deeply, March turns to continue down the path, and Balor and Olric follow. As they get to the bend, March pauses, and then cries out.

“Fuck!”

And starts running, disappearing from sight.

Balor goes to call after the blacksmith, but then he sees what caused the redhead to run. You’re on the ground, unmoving, and there is a puddle of slime around you, caused by a slime monster that is currently on top of your unconscious body.

March is already there, swinging with the sword, knocking the slime monster off. It lands a few feet away, near the edge of the water and gurgles out some sort of cry. From the water, two more monsters come up.

“Balor!” March calls out, but Balor is already in action, stabbing forward with his sword at one of the creatures.

He trusts that Olric will protect you and focuses on getting rid of these creatures.

One of them jumps a surprisingly large distance and he twists minimally to the side enough to dodge it and slashes down with his blade as it lands, the extra force causing it to bounce on the ground.

As it lays stunned, Balor stabs it a number of times until its slime form melts into the surrounding puddles.

He turns to see March do a well-executed wide slash that hits both remaining slime monsters, one of them melting like Balor’s, and the other bouncing near him. Repeating his bait-and-attack strategy from earlier, the creature is dead within no time.

Looking back at you, your head and shoulders are now rested on Olric’s knees, the man having kneeled down on the cavern floor, and he is digging in his backpack for something. March is already by your side, holding his hand out to your wrist.

“She’s got a heart rate.” March breathes out, his shoulders releasing some of their tension.

Olric nods, “Yeah! That’s good, but, look at her ankle.” He has taken off one of your boots.

Balor gasps as he sees the swollen ankle. It’s nearly twice the size it should be, red splotches littering the skin, though, nothing seems to be poking out that shouldn’t be at the least.

“So you’re going to stabilize the ankle before we move her?” He asks Olric, who for all his general goofiness, is competent in field (mines) first aid.

Olric nods, but March cuts in, “Why isn’t she waking up if that’s the worst of it?” His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks like a mixture of about-to-cry and pissed-beyond-hell.

Olric frowns, his mouth tugging to one side as he laces back up your boots, but tighter, so that they help stabilize your ankle. “Well, we don’t know if that’s the worst of it.”

March pauses where he’s holding your wrist. “What do you mean.”

“What Olric isn’t saying is that she could be bleeding internally, or even that she hit her head when falling, plus who knows how long that slime was leeching off of her.” Balor supplies, folding his arms and holding his chin in his hands.

Olric nods “Yeah! So that’s why we need to move her as soon as I can be sure it won’t make her worse! We were always told to be careful of head injuries and anything puncturing the lungs on the inside!”

March blanches, and immediately sets his head on your sternum, with his ear pressed against it, between your breasts. Balor’s eyes widened at the blacksmith’s actions, but he sees Olric’s lack of reaction, and considers his instincts earlier. He comes to the conclusion that he is probably missing some information and also that in this situation someone was probably going to have to listen to your breathing anyways.

“It’s raspy, and almost bubbling, is that normal?” March’s voice is level, too level, and shaking.

Olric frowns, and Balor feels that chill from earlier return and settle on his shoulders, as if someone else was watching.

No one says anything for a second. March swears.

“Fuck okay we’re going.” He doesn’t say anything else and slides his hands under your unconscious form. He lifts you bridal-style, your head flopping into the nook between his shoulder and neck.

“Ah wait Olric said we shouldn’t move her until we’re sure-” Balor starts, but March cuts him off.

“I don’t care, her breathing shouldn’t sound like that and I’m not going to wait any longer to get her to Valen.”

He heads back down the hallway to the elevator, and Balor looks at Olric, who’s already started after his brother.

“You’re good with this?”

Olric shrugs as they follow March and you. “I only know basic first aid. I can’t tell anything else wrong with her, so I’m gonna follow March here.”

They are moving faster than when they came down the hallway, and make it to the elevator in no time. Wordlessly they pile on and Olric starts it up again. The ricketyness of the elevator feels worse now, feeling that every shake makes your condition worse.

March cradles your body close to his, head leaned down close to your face. He’s murmuring something Balor can’t make out. Despite carrying you for several minutes straight, March isn’t struggling in the slightest with the weight. His legs are bent so that his muscles take the brunt of the shaking, and he’s still holding you with ease.

Despite being muscled and curved from hard labor all day, you look so small curled up in the blacksmith’s arms, and Balor feels some ugly emotion curl up in his chest. He raises a hand to push on his chest with his knuckles where he feels it.

Your presence is such an enigma. You go about your day doing your own thing, but you always stop to do small talk, and often have gifts perfect for everyone out and about. Bees for Luc, handmade Lattes for Nora, an endless supply of Tulips for Adeline despite it being summer, and, gemstones for him of course.

Balor looks at the blacksmith, and wonders what you give him.

Olric is also looking at his brother, an indescribable emotion painting his face. He raises one hand and puts it on his brother’s shoulder.

“She’ll be fine March.”

“You can’t know that, her breathing…”

Olric’s hand is unmoving.

“She’s going to be fine.”

March looks up at his brother, his eyes shining. His eyes flick briefly to meet Balor’s, and then his face flushes and he looks down and to the side.

“...okay. I trust you.”

Swallowing hard, Balor looks to Olric, who is now looking at him. The older man smiles.

“I mean it, Balor. She’s going to be fine. She’s tough and Valen is a good doctor with good medicine!”

Balor feels his own face light up with heat and now it’s his turn to be looking anywhere besides Olric’s warm and confident gaze.

“Yeah, she will.” He agrees.

The rest of the ride is silent. And after reaching the ground floor, the trio head to the Clinic swiftly and wordlessly. It’s late at night, no one is out to see them and your injured state. Balor thinks you probably would want it that way.

Considering how you didn’t tell anyone the dangers of the Mines, just took them as they came, you probably wouldn’t want them to know.

He doesn’t know how he feels about that, but, looking at the two brothers, the merchant realizes that they had at least some idea of the dangers, but were like him and left mainly out of the loop. That ugly feeling seems to root itself further into his chest. He massages the area again.

Valen is, of course, not in the clinic when they walk in. No one locks their doors at night, which Balor thinks is so painfully Mistria.

March yells out when they come in, “VALEN! WE NEED YOU, IT’S AN EMERGENCY!”

There’s a thud and a yelp from upstairs, and after a minute where the only thing Balor can hear is the sound of his elevated heart-rate, Valen appears from up the stairs, clad in a tank top and comfortable pants.

“March did you burn yoursel-Oh no.” Valen’s demeanor transforms once she sees the state of you in March’s arms, going from annoyed into Doctor Mode.

“Lay her down here please.” She instructs March, gesturing to a bed in the corner.

He seems to hesitate, unwilling to let you out of his arms, but after a moment he concedes, setting you down with an amount of tenderness that, before tonight, Balor would never expect to see from the blacksmith.

Valen immediately sets to work, bringing out tools to examine your state.

“Anything I should know about?”

Olric helpfully supplies, “She’s been unconscious for as long as we have found her, her ankle is messed up, I used her boot to try to secure it, and March said her breathing was raspy and bubbling when he listened!”

Valen pauses, “Her breathing? And in the position you found her, do you think it’s likely she hit her head?”

March nods leaning against the window, in what would be a casual pose if every line of his body wasn’t screaming with tension.

“Yes.”

Valen listens to your chest with her stethoscope. She looks up quickly at Olric and Balor feels the chill weigh heavier at the steel in her expression.

“Go get Juniper, Olric.”

Without question Olric runs out of the clinic. Valen continues examining you, carefully undoing the tight laces on the boot.

“Why Juniper?” Balor asks.

“She makes a lot of my tonics.” Is all Valen gives him, and the clinic falls back into silence.

Olric comes back, not quite slamming the door open, and an irate Juniper is right behind him.

“This better be important Valen beca-Oh my!” She stops in the middle of the room once she sees you, unconscious on the bed. She looks at Balor, then at March, and at Valen.

Her demeanor hardens. “What do you need?”

Valen nods “I’ll need some of that potion you tested last week, and a strong Restorative Syrup.”

Juniper frowns, “The syrup is fine, but the potion is barely tested.”

“If it works it’ll be the best thing we can give her, as all of her injuries are internal and I can’t fix those easily. She also has a bad concussion.”

Juniper wrinkles her nose but turns and heads out the clinic without argument, she calls out, “Olric come help me!” And off they go.

A beat of silence and March asks, “What are those going to do?”

Valen looks at him, as if she is mildly piqued they are still here, but tells him, “The Restorative Syrup will stimulate her natural healing to work faster, which is good in case there are any broken bones.”

Balor asks “Why not a full Healing Syrup then?”

“Because it works so fast it may heal the bones wrong.” Valen rebukes patiently.

Balor blanches, and feels the chill from earlier curl tighter around his spine.

“What about that other potion, Juniper didn’t seem confident about it.” March quizzes Valen.

But the doctor doesn’t look bothered by his tone, and just responds, “Juniper is just a perfectionist. The potion is fine, and it’s one that should boost our farmer’s natural healing factor. The Restorative Syrup only makes her healing work faster, what would take a week will take two hours, but this new potion will boost it, so that it will take only an hour.”

That’s…kind of incredible said out loud. Why has he not realized Juniper was sitting on a landmine of cash with those products here?

“But I still need to set the splint so that her ankle heals properly, and she’ll be quite unstable for a few days. No farming for sure, and definitely no wandering around for her. She’s going to need to stay in bed.”

Valen stops talking there, and Balor tilts his head, waiting for her to say more, before he realizes she’s looking between him and March. March looks like he’s in the same boat, his frown small and quirked to the side, eyebrows raised.

Valen raises her own eyebrow, and drawls out the question, “Well? Which one of you two boys is going to make sure she stays in bed? She has animals to feed and crops to tend, someone is going to have to do it for her.”

Balor meets March’s dark-colored eyes, and as he opens his mouth March is faster, saying,

“I’ll do it.”

“You have the forge, and orders to do.” The ugly feeling from earlier nestles next to the chill.

“Olric can handle them for a few days, and it’s not like I’ll be down there all day. You have to go to the neighboring city for a supply trip tomorrow, remember?”

Frowning, Balor realizes March is right. He does need to go get more supplies. Looking to Valen, who, if he didn’t know any better, would say has an amused smirk on her face, the merchant sighs.

“You’re right. March will watch her.” The last part was directed to the doctor, who merely “hmms” in response, focused on wrapping your foot.

The silence feels heavier somehow, March is looking at him strangely. Balor can feel the younger man’s inquisitive stare, but just continues looking at your unconscious face. You look so peaceful. Maybe he can leave some books on your doorstep so you’re not bored while you recover.

Juniper and Olric come back through into the clinic just then. The bathkeeper strides across the room and hands Valen two bottles. She has a self-satisfied expression on her face.

“These are good.”

Valen looks into her purple eyes and holds them for a second. Then nods.

“I know, thank you. I’ll pay you later for them, at a more reasonable hour.”

Juniper seems taken aback, and even though she is standing over Valen it’s like the doctor’s presence is looming over the younger woman.

“W-well, that is..you don’t need to. Just keeping our local farmer alive after all. No payment needed, the…renown is good enough.” She’s visibly flustered, and Balor can see faint traces of amusement in the doctor’s stoney expression.

“I’m going back to bed if that’s all you need?” Juniper looks back at Valen, and given a nod, does so.

The three men watch as Valen examines the tonics, then shifts you so you’re sitting upright with one of her steady hands behind your head. She first administers a purple one, and then a familiar green one down your throat.

Everyone stares at you for a few minutes.

Balor startles as Valen calmly reaches for her stethoscope and listens to your breathing once more. March’s eyes follow her every movement.

The doctor nods once, her expression smoothing out.

“She’ll be fine. Her breathing is clearing up.”

Balor breathed out heavily, feeling the ever-present chill finally fade away. Olric and March similarly look relieved, the former smiling, and the latter’s eyebrows having unfurrowed.

“Thanks doctor! That’s a relief!” Olric says, giving Valen a pat on the back.

She raises an eyebrow at him, but is also smiling. “You did a good job with the laces on the boot. Smarter than trying to do a splint.”

Olric looks bashful, “Ahh well, you know! It’s Errol’s doing with his first aid stuff he used to teach us!”

He looks at his younger brother, who’s still staring at you. Olric’s expression melts slightly, and Balor can almost see the cogs turning in his head as he then says,

“March I’m heading back first. I’ll set something out for you so you eat, okay?”

“..’kay.”

“Thanks doc, thanks Balor! Good night!” Balor blinks at being addressed, still in a daze of relief, mutters a goodbye, and Olric heads out, the door swinging shut behind him.

Valen addresses him and March at the same time as she says, “I will also be heading back to bed. If you remain in the clinic, be quiet, please.”

She turns to head back upstairs but March calls out, looking panicked at the thought of the doctor leaving, “Wait! Are you just going to leave her here? It’s only been a few minutes since the potions were administered!”

The older woman meets March’s heated expression. “She’ll be fine, March, I guarantee it.”

They stare at each other, before March nods. Valen smiles at him reassuringly, and the blacksmith blushes and looks down at you.

Valen turns and heads back up the stairs. Balor stares after her, licks his dry lips, and looks back at March. The blacksmith has already taken Valen’s place in the chair next to you, and the most tender-yet-conflicted expression Balor has seen is painted on his face.

His fist finds its way to his sternum again, Balor frowns at the feeling. The panic is over, can this feeling in his chest just go away please?

March reaches out, and pushes one of the locks of your hair off your face, curling it around your ear. Okay.

“I’m going to get going too, March.”

Balor waits for a response, and then turns to leave after a beat of silence. Just as he touches the door handle he hears behind him.

“Thanks, Balor.”

He meets March’s eyes. “For what.”

Something flickers over the blacksmith’s face, but he responds, “For getting someone, us, to help. For helping.”

Balor felt like he was more of an observer than anything this whole time, but he just accepts the thanks.

“It’s nothing March, just…gotta take care of one of my key suppliers, right?”

It sounds weak to him, and he doesn’t meet the blacksmith’s prying gaze.

“I’m heading out early in the morning, so I will be gone before she wakes. Take care of her for me, okay?”

Balor forces himself to smile and wink at March, who just stares at him with a neutral frown.

The night air is cool, and calming after the events. It’s different from the chill that had gripped him all night.

As Balor heads down to the inn, he ponders setting some Tesserae on the counter and just grabbing one of the beers to help him go to sleep.

#fom #fields of mistria #farmer x march #fom march #farmer x balor #fom balor #fom olric #fom valen #fom juniper #depictions of violence #hurt/comfort

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assistedbytherats · 3 months

Text

Lady Aphrodite, I’ve noticed, is occasionally perceived as bright, fun, bubbly, affectionate, etc. Don’t get me wrong, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with seeing her like this. As long as a UPG does not impair a person’s respect of a deity, it’s wonderful to have!

With that being said, I’ve realized that She presents quite differently to me. In our first interaction, She communicated with a more “show, don’t tell” method, overwhelming me with feelings and thoughts of love while I sat on my floor in the middle of the night.

She was relentless, keeping me there for hours after arriving without warning. Waiting for me to see Her amidst all of the memories of love in my life.

She was patient yet firm in this, insisting I put faith in my intuition, something I struggle to do. But She waited, and She did not relent.

She was wise and insightful, but only shared in things I did not already understand. In other words, She would not suffer rhetorical questions, instead encouraging me to push forward for answers I may have already known and ignored for one reason or another.

But the whole while, I was aware of Her, waiting for me to find those answers I already knew. The whole while, the near pain that it is to be lovesick, in my chest, making me aware of Her in a way I couldn’t ignore.

Lady Aphrodite may be doting to some

I do not think that is a thing She can afford with me. Learning to love myself is a great beast to wrestle, and it does not need to be handled gently. She and I both know that, and I’m ever willing to do some tough work in Her name.

#helpol #hellenic pagan #hellenic polytheism #paganblr #paganism #pagan #aphrodite worship #aphrodite deity #lady aphrodite #hellenic polytheistic #hellenic paganism #hellenic deities #hellenic worship #hellenic gods #hellenism #hellenic polythiest #hellenic devotion

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faeyramaeyra · 3 months

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🌸 A guide to Plant Wards 🌸

What are they?

To put it simply, A plant ward is a plant in your home that wards and protects the room it is in or your household. How much it wards depends on the energy, effort and intent you put into it.

How do you get one?

All you need is a plant. My plant ward use to be a monstera (I had to give it away to move houses unfortunately) but yours can be any plant. My tip is to get a plant that will grow fairly large leaves. The bigger the leaves, The more negativity it can ward off. From my experience, Small plants as plant wards do not last very long and cannot take the hits to ward your space. I simply just asked the plant to protect and ward my space. Then it just started doing it’s thing from there.

Do you need to do anything for the plant?

Yes. You need to take care of it by giving it water and adequate light for whatever plant it is. Also re-pot if/when needed. Different plants have different needs. I use to communicate with mine to figure out what it needed and when. Giving offerings to your plant ward is a must since you have to give something to receive something. Fertiliser is a good offering for them. If you do not take care of the plant or provide it with offerings, It will not ward your space. Simple as that.

How do you tell if the ward has been hit?

Plant wards can react in a couple of different ways when they have been hit by something. A common sign I noticed was drooping of the leaves and the growth of smaller leaves becoming hindered. Remember to rule out mundane reasons for leaves drooping and plants struggling to grow since things like inadequate care can cause those issues. Another sign I noticed, Which is very uncommon, Was the plant having physical damages to it. I say this is uncommon because things like pets, not taking care when handling it etc can cause physical damages to it. I have only had one instance of a plant having physical damage due to negative energies it was warding off.

What do you do if the ward has been hit?

Don’t panic for starters. It’s better the plant was hit instead of you. The first thing you should do is check in with the plant. Make sure it is okay, figure out if it needs anything and monitor it. Cleanse your space and yourself, renew your protection methods if you have to. If you work with deities, Check in with them. After you have done all that is when I recommend figuring out what was sent to you or who it was sent by to make sure it is not a deep issue etc.

Can you get a plant ward as a beginner?

Absolutely, In fact I encourage it since I believe it is such an easy way to ward your home!

🌸 If you have any questions, Please ask away! 🌸

Tip-Jar and Readings

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soapoet · 1 year

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PJO pick-a-card reading

Luke Castellan; A message from above

Soapy scribbles: I opted to format this topic as generally as possible since we all hold various different beliefs. Whether this message comes from your spirit guides, angels, higher self, God, any deity, ancestor or passed loved ones, or anything beyond my comprehension, is for you alone to know based on how it resonates with you. I am just the messenger and it is no business of mine who your particular sender is.

01.

Shufflemancy: Travelling by James Spiteri

You're coming out of a period of stagnation. Either delays entirely out of your control, or the sheer lack of motivation has kept you at a stalemate unable to proceed with your plans. You have found comfort in distractions aplenty. A seemingly never-ending cycle of avoiding the next step because it appears so very daunting, then being overcome with guilt and shame, which you again run from, chasing anything and everything which would put these feelings at bay. Now the first step looks less frightening, and you may feel more motivated to journey onwards.

Growing pains may feature, but you are able to handle them well. You may feel inclined to keep secrets, especially regarding your endeavours. This will prove beneficial as it reduces pressure, you now have nobody to hold yourself accountable but you, and you avoid the urge to run away should anybody dare inquire about your progress. Push yourself forward, as unnerving as it may be. You will quickly notice how light you are on your feet and the distance you can go when harnessing the dopamine from simply overcoming this fear.

Do not be too hard on yourself or expect to run a marathon. A little progress is better than none, but do not use busy work as yet another distraction. You have great gifts and plenty to share with the world, and you are destined to inspire others with your achievements and your accolades. As much as you detest routine, try to keep even a small one. Do a little bit every day to inch yourself closer to your dreams. To avoid feelings of uncertainty and your fears of failure, set aside time to sit with yourself in silence and ask yourself why you want this, where it will lead, and why that is where you want to be and what you hope to achieve, the life you wish to lead and what legacy you wish you leave. Remind yourself of the answers to these questions whenever motivation begins to evade you on your journey.

Sometimes a writer can only muster a sentence, perhaps one they will later entirely eliminate, yet they did something. And sometimes all this writer can do is stare at the manuscript before them and give of themselves nothing. Yet they did something. They got up to look at it rather than wince across the room and refuse to rise to the occasion at all. Celebrate even your smallest victories and allow yourself a cheer when you muster even the slightest effort. Do not expect perfection of yourself and know that many before you had to go through trial and error, and learn and adapt along the way. That is perfectly okay and you do not need a doctorate straight out of the womb to be good enough.

02.

Shufflemancy: Kiss the rain by Yiruma

You must cease this pattern of giving up your energy so easily to so many who are not deserving of your time. When bad news arrive, it is fine to feel whichever way you feel, but anchoring your emotions to this negativity will suck you dry of the life force that you need to shine. You are allowed to have boundaries and you are encouraged to enforce them and guard them closely. Those who would trespass should know punishment swiftly. Do not tolerate things you do not tolerate truly. Do not quietly hope unfortunate things go away and that people notice your discomfort and stop what they're doing that is harming you.

Stand up for yourself and make your thoughts and feelings heard. It is also not your duty or responsibility to translate a simple no or a stop to people wilfully ignorant and always finding a justification for their words and actions. No is a full sentence. Anybody who fails to internalize this fact and look in the mirror to reflect and to change any behaviour that's lead them to ignore this simple command is not a headache to take as yours. You should be unapologetic in your selfcare and demand space when you need it. Set aside your fears and shoo away any prowling feelings of shame and guilt. If you would be happier alone than in bad company, seek solitude and cut off what no longer serves you.

There are lessons some learn only upon a collapse. You may pray for a change of heart and hope for the sun to shine again, but you do not need to weather storms that are not yours to experience. You're not a bad person for stepping back and saying enough is enough in a situation that only causes you distress. Those who need help must want it and ask for it. You can promise to be there when they're ready and aid in their recovery, and still express to them the grief that they have caused you. Sometimes people need to be faced with the harsh truth. The pain and the agony and sleepless nights which they have brought upon you and others and be shown they could truly lose it all lest they stop and strive to do and be better.

If somebody truly needs help and you do not have the heart to abandon them, seek assistance. You need not be alone in a quest which requires more than you alone have to give. There are many sources of help and even more solutions once more hands are there to help, and you only have two and are allowed to seek extra pairs to aid you in this task. You are commended for your resilience and your kind heart. It may break and bleed often, and you must know that things will get better. These rough waters will calm soon enough and you will find peace.

03.

Shufflemancy: Ballerina by Yehezkel Raz

You don't need to run so fast. You have all the time in the world to make the changes that you want and need. Slow down and allow yourself to breathe. You have been much too hard on yourself and allowed everything outside of you to weigh you down. Shelf some burdens that were never yours to carry and make the choice to serve yourself for a change. Be gentle with yourself and listen to your own body and soul, and act according to that which is truly in your best interest. You are your own worst enemy when you let the beasts feed upon your negative self talk and your fixations on perceived failures.

Know that you have no more need for tips and tricks and new methods to your madness. You already have everything that you need, and no tool beyond your own consciousness is required. You could paint cathedral ceilings with just your imagination, so cease your struggle and let yourself be carried by the stream. Do not waver in your convictions, and do not let doubt lead you astray. Stick to what you know in your heart to be true and cast away every inkling of worry and fear.

You need to learn to let life happen to you rather than holding the reins so tightly you vitiate the opportunity to experience the present moment altogether. The present is all we really have, so try your best to cling neither to the past or the future. We all have regrets behind us, and wishes for the future, but it is the present moment which we truly have control over and get to experience.

Let go of any unhealthy dependencies you may have allowed to take root in your garden. Whether this is a person, a habit, or a situation, if it isn't doing you any good in the long-term, do your best to weed it out so that more energy may be received by the things you do wish to grow and nurture. If you feel unqualified to tackle some of this gardening, do not hesitate to ask for help and guidance from gentle people who will understand how delicate some situations may be. You do not need to tolerate fear mongering or unnecessary pressure, time constraints or misplaced ultimatums. Be direct with what you need and the tone and feel you wish to engage in so that you do not end up feeling cornered and threatened so much that you refuse any help at all in favour of protecting yourself from harsh criticism and judgement.

#pac reading #pick a card reading #luke castellan #pjo #energy reading #intuitive reading #percy jackson and the olympians #pac #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card #tarot reading #tarotblr #soapy.post

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luimagines · 5 months

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Honor Among Gods

Ok. This is another purely indulgent thing.

Those who've been here a while would remember that there was once a character named Hesper. She is a demigod, daughter of Nyx.

My good friend @thesoftieanon made her and well... We went wild.

I'm not kidding. This is over 20 pages long. And I'm posting it not only to share one of my favorite short stories I've cowritten with someone since making this blog, but this is here for me because the formatting makes it easier to reread. XD

This is a universe where Hesper got paired with The Fierce Deity. It is naturally written in his point of view. Enjoy.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

When he was able to open his eyes again, he was undeterred by the sight of monsters and battle. He got right to work to take care of the problem, knowing that his host was desperate at best to eliminate these pests.

These monsters were stronger than he knew his host could handle. It didn’t take a genius to conclude this was why his help was required.

The boys around him were familiar forces at this point. He could feel them from a distance but now he had faces to the forces he could only remotely feel.

Except for one.

A young woman traveled with them at this point. She fought valiantly, growling back at the beast in front of her. She fought like none other he had ever seen before. She wore dark clothing and nearly rivaled his own height without the restrictions of his host. He couldn’t see her face from the cloth that covered every part of her body.

There was an energy about her. Something that called for his respect and devotion. She was nowhere near as overbearing as the Great Ones, but surely, unmistakingly one of them.

He was so distracted by the sight of someone new and different, that the monster, despite bleeding profusely from multiple gashes across its body, proceeded to knock her off her feet and drive its weapon into her shoulder.

The Fierce Deity sprang into action and body-slammed the creature without a second thought, finishing the beast with a solid swipe to the neck. He turned and pulled the weapon out of the girl. In retrospect, he should have been more gentle. He regrets his rash actions immediately.

She yells in pain but it gets stuck in her throat at the sight of him towering above her. His own breath gets stuck in her throat. She surely belongs among the Great Ones. Her eyes are filled with innumerable stars. There’s a depth and alluring presence to them. He’d dare to stare for longer had another cry of anguish not catch his attention.

The battle continues to rage on around him and his work is still needed.

The Fierce Deity continues to fight, leaving the young goddess behind. As the fight comes to a close, his host removes him once more and he has returned to the world of darkness around him. As darkness falls on the outside world, his host rests for the day. It is here that the old god decides to ask about the maiden from before.

“Hero.” He calls into the mind of his chosen.

He feels the body wither and groan in response. Exhaustion plagues his mind and body heavily, but his curiosity runs deeper than the needs of mortals. “Yes?”

“Tell me about the Great One’s kin.” He says, because he’s not entirely sure if she herself is one of the Great Ones or merely a Lesser One. He is sure, however, about her status among mortals is not one and the same.

“The what?” The once boy replies.

“The young woman.” He feels himself growing impatient. Who else could he be possibly talking about other than one of the most breathtaking individuals he has ever seen among the sixteen realms?

His host groans once more. Vaguely, the cursed one can feel the sluggish mind of his host put the dots together to whom he may be talking about. “Woman…. Hesper? Are you talking about Hesper?”

A soothing balm covers his irritation in an instant. He hums and echoes the name pleasantly. “Hesper. So that is her name… Divine, indeed. Tell me more.”

“No.”

“Boy-”

“No. It’s three in the morning. I am trying to sleep.”

That does not dissuade the old god.

It takes the course of multiple days, but the Fierce Deity eventually gleans information about the girl and her kin. She is from a distant realm beyond their borders of reality. She is in fact a daughter of the Great Ones- but of her own realm. There appear to be many Great Ones where she is from. She is a daughter of a goddess named Nyx- a goddess and personification of night, and mother to many monsters and other Great Ones.

However, Hesper herself is not a Great One, much to his disappointment and displeasure. She is half-mortal. There are many like her in her realm. Such one travels with the group as well. A young boy no older than seven. The Deity is told that the boy cannot speak with his tongue and rather uses his hands much like another boy he used to know. He is the opposite of his half-sister. She is dark and of the night. The boy is bright and of the day. To his knowledge, the boy was abandoned by his mother for not sticking to the code of her other children.

The Fierce Deity feels an indignant twitch in his eye once he is told but he cannot speak against such ones for his own sake. Hesper, however, does not seem to mind. The boy, named Sol, is very much her kin and responsibility.

When asked about her attire, the Deity was told that Hesper was born with a curse and natural susceptibility to sunlight. She cannot be touched by it or she will suffer.

Knowing all of this only causes the old god to want to know more about her.

Those eyes that he stared into haunt with every waking second. And for an immortal being without any need for rest, he has a lot of time on his hands to think of her. Should it come to it, he would fight by her side. He would devote himself to her. He would be her sword and her shield so she wouldn’t ever have to come near danger ever again. He cannot bear the thought of such a wondrous creature falling in the path of another blade. He still remembers her scream of pain. It is maddening.

Curiously, one day, the young boy Sol finds him among the hidden weapons and masks belonging to his host. The Fierce Deity is vaguely aware of the boy’s spirit. He is energetic and flighty- prone to joking with seemingly never-ending mischievous intentions.

He picks up the mask and studies him. The god doesn’t know of the boy’s intentions with his prison but he wonders how he passes the guard of his host. This is not a normal occurrence.

The boy drops the mask and something falls on top of it- cracking the visage.

The chains rattle around him and the Fierce Deity can feel the power of the prison slipping away as the seconds pass. It takes only a moment for him to find the weakest link and strike through it.

He is free.

His body forms from under the rubble and the boy stares up at him with what can only describe as shock and awe. It appears that while he dropped the mask, many things fell over as well, falling on top of the mask to strike just where it needed to. A lucky strike, so to speak.

His old host stands next to the boy, equally shocked and on edge. Any words he may have intended to say to the youngest die on his tongue once his eyes land on his imposing figure. His old host is no longer the boy he once knew. Pride swells up in him to see the man he has grown into. But neither of them are the one he wishes to see the most right now.

As if summoned by the commotion, Hesper herself comes from the woodwork, instantly b-lining for her young brother.

As soon as she nears, the deity drops to his knee, bowing toward the daughter of night.

She freezes at the sight of him, looking between him and his former host. She takes a step back. Hesper clears her throat and looks away from him. “... Is this normal?”

The Fierce Deity is unfamiliar with the emotions causing his heart to race but he knows that she is worthy of the honor and respect he gives her. “All others shield themselves from the morning sun- yet it is the starlight’s beauty that gains the admiration of mere men. I finally understand where they meet their folly."

Her jaw falls softly. Although it is covered by the cloth to shield her from the afternoon rays, he can see the shock drape over her face. She spins around, trying to find some sort of response to his words but no one is able to help her. She gulps. “I… thank you?”

His former host gains his sense of self first. He walks toward the two of them, putting himself in between. “Hesper, I’d like to apologize on his behalf-”

“Do not apologize for me.” The Deity growls. “I’ve waited for millennia. I refuse to wait any longer.”

"Millennia for what?? You- who are you?" Hesper blinks, completely perplexed. She then squints, recalling a time she'd gotten messed up on the battlefield no less than a week ago. "Wait... it's you. The deit- why are you bowing to me?"

Her recognition of him is exciting. The Fierce Deity straightens in his pose, keeping his knee firmly on the first floor. "Because you are the most exquisite jewel among mortal men."

Hesper gulps again, taking another step back. A hand raises, and a finger points towards her as if to question if he’s truly talking about her. As if he’d say that about anyone else. It’s a soft look. Her eyes widen, and a blush peeks out from under her mask. "W... what?"

"You are a daughter of the night." He says easily. "The jewels of the heavens are your birthright. And I am forever at your beck and call, my queen."

The Fierce Deity is too taken by the young woman in front of him to notice that the camp has gone silent. They are watching the interaction with intense interest. Sol looks around the group, not quite understanding what is transpiring.

Time’s jaw has dropped as well. Something compels him to attempt to regain control over the situation. Before he can act, however, Sol tugs on his sleeve. He signs. ‘Is he bad? Like the gods at home?’

Time sighs and shakes his head. "Yes and no. But I think you and your sister are safe."

‘Okay... why is he saying all that stuff about Hesper?’ Sol lights up suddenly. ‘Does he like her?? Is that what he meant by jewel?’

Time is fighting back the second-hand embarrassment as much as he can. "It appears soooo… He's always been more on the poetic side of prose."

He is not going to tell Sol that FD tried to farm him for information about his sister.

‘Oh, I see! Well, hopefully he doesn't just like her for her power, she hates that.’ Sol turns just in time to make eye contact with FD and waves with a grin.

The Fierce Deity smiles back in kind, making even Time take a step back. He waves and beckons the small child closer.

Sol runs up, no hesitation, and Hesper tenses. ‘Hi, I'm Sol! You like my big sister, huh?’

The old god’s face softens at the sign. The boy looks a lot like Link did when he was little. He reaches out to ruffle the hair of the younger one. "I've been bewitched by her splendor, little one. There is little who can compare. Are you the protector of this maiden?"

‘Yeah! If you wanna date my sister, you can't just use fancy words! You gotta pass my test!’

"Ah, Sol-" Hesper starts, alarmed.

The Fierce Deity grins. "Of course! A maiden of her caliber cannot be won alone by fanciful speech."

He reaches over, picking him up effortlessly and puts him on his shoulders. "Tell me, child, what quest is in need of pursuing?"

Sol grins back. ‘Well, to start, what do you like about her? Is she just a jewel to you?’

Hesper keeps her hand against her heart, watching the interaction with bated breath and a hand on a blade. Her heart is pounding in her chest.

"A jewel is more than its shine and splendor." He says easily, holding his hand out for her to take as he makes his way into the middle of the camp. It wouldn't look well on his part to leave her behind, now would it.

"I was enamored by her wit." He admits. "And her fortitude."

Hesper takes it after he says that, keeping the other readily on her blade.

‘Fortitude? What's that mean? Sounds cool!’ Sol, however, is unbothered by this hulking man, singing the praises of his older sister. He is very quickly gaining his approval.

"It means to take courage despite the pain." The old god whispers, looking at her reaction. There's no mistaking that he's smitten with her. Something that the rest of the group are quick to clue in on.

As well as the young woman. Despite her unwillingness to instantly trust this man, his face speaks of nothing but genuine emotion and intention. Does… he truly mean what he says?

The grip on her blade loosens.

Sol keeps signing. ‘Wow, you know her really well! How long have you been in love with her?’

"Sol!" Time cuts him off, mortified on Hesper's behalf. "I think that's a conversation for them to have."

"No way, this is getting good!" Legend waves him off.

Time pinches the bridge of his nose. "You're all horrible."

Sol tilts his head. ‘I'm just saying! He's obviously known her for a while, but she doesn't know him at all!’

"That's... why it should be a conversation between us." Hesper says quietly.

‘Oh? So you're okay with him?’

"... For now." She decides, releasing her blade entirely.

‘Okay! Good job, you passed for now!’

Even more pride swells within the chest of the deity. He finds himself standing straighter and smiles at the young boy on his shoulders. He feels as if he is beaming. “My many thanks.”

Sol clambers off him to go play with Wind, leaving his sister behind and thoroughly embarrassed. The deity watches his interest. He’s admittedly always had a soft spot for little ones.

Hesper on the other hand has succumbed to her embarrassment, covering her face with one of her hands. Her voice is quiet and strained. A mere squeak of its usual glory. “Oh my gods…”

The Fierce Deity sees no problem with this. He turns to her once again, bending at his knee with his head down. "My queen."

He awaits her direction.

"Ah- you don't have to bow, standing or sitting or- whatever you want to do is fine!" Hesper puts her hands out in an attempt to stop him from showing the proper respect she deserves. He does not understand why she attempts this. He can only assume that she's not used to this kind of treatment. Although he cannot imagine why.

Something about that level of innocence ignites his wicked streak. He smirks a bit. "And if I want to do this?"

"For crying out loud, don't make it harder on the poor girl." Time groans.

"... That's fine." Hesper barely manages to squeak out. She can't look at him. The deity hadn’t even thought it was possible for her to appear bashful. It’s an endearing look on her.

The Fierce Deity reaches out, brushing a bit of hair out of her face. "Beautiful... What a lovely shade you don, dearest.”

"I-I'm going to patrol-!" Hesper yells, taking a step back into the shadows and disappearing in a blink of an eye.

He blinks as he stares into the space where she once had been. Shadow travel? Exquisite. Is there anything she isn’t capable of? Curse aside, of course.

"Awwww..." Sky pouts. "She left before it got good."

Time is internally screaming. This has already gotten out of hand. He can't do anything to reel him in and he knows it.

Hesper is on her own, he decides. Which is unfortunate for her, but entertaining for everyone else.

Sol somehow has the sense to sign 'Hey mister, I think you overdid it.'

Wind nods along with him. "She's not used to compliments, take it from me. I called her pretty once and she hid her face again!"

The Fierce Deity frowns. "Is there such a thing? How could she not get compliments? She's one of a kind. A daughter of the Great One.... does she not have suitors?"

Sol shakes his head. 'Everyone back home thinks she's scary... at least that's what she said.’

Wind slowly nods along, wincing.

The old god glares in the space beyond the group. "Unacceptable.”

'I mean they're scared of Momma too, but I dunno why.' Sol shrugs. 'They're not scared of me.'

Sol does not understand that many fear such creatures of the night no matter what their size or shape. Their intentions and actions do not matter to the creatures of the day. However, that is of little excuse. The Fierce Deity doesn’t understand it either.

"Cowards."

The old god takes a deep breath.

Sol shrugs and goes back to playing with Wind.

It isn’t long until Sol returns and all but tackles the deity. ‘I have a question.’

“And what is it you intend to ask, little one?” The Deity turns to look at the young boy. He allows him to crawl over him, digging into his sides and his armor to perch himself over his shoulder.

‘Are you going to marry my sister?’

“If she’ll have me.”

Sol nods sagely. ’You’ll need an apple.’

“An apple?” Another thing the deity does not understand. “Is such a thing required for the hand of maidens where you’re from?”

Sol nods once again, more enthusiastically. ‘You have to throw it to her. If she catches it, she’ll marry you.’

The Fierce Deity remembers this and allows the child to get off of him as he returns to playing around with the other boys. He knows he must win over the young woman first but such knowledge is useful for the future.

Hesper doesn’t return until the break of twilight. The Fierce Deity had been attending and entertaining the younger ones when Sol had all but collapsed against him. Hesper collects the child without missing a beat and prepares his bedroll in a moment.

The old god is panicking on the inside but he's outwardly looking confused. "...I wasn't aware he was that thoroughly exhausted."

"He's not. It's his curse." Hesper picks up her brother's body, which appears limp and lifeless. "He can only be active in the light of day. No light; it's like he's dead. But he's just sleeping."

The Fierce Deity shudders at the thought, but it's quickly replaced by thinly veiled rage. "Who would dare put a curse on a child?"

"The gods of our world." Hesper says it so calmly... and then she looks at him. "They're afraid of what we'd do without them there."

"Well as I recall, they're not here." He growls. "Can this be undone?"

"It took a god to do it, so I'd imagine it'd take a god to undo it." Hesper goes through the routine of putting Sol to bed; arms over his blanket so he'll wake sooner in the morning. "Nothing else I've tried has worked, anyways."

The old god stares after the sleeping child.

"...A god you say..." He whispers, running his hands over Sol's bangs. He takes a knee once more and bows his head toward the young woman. "Is that all there is to it?”

"... It was the king of the gods who did it." The word 'king' is bitter on her tongue. "His word overpowers all others in our world. I know most of you are god slayers, so that might not even matter, but... be careful."

The Fierce Deity hums; already aware such things would come with a price and gently puts the back of his finger on Sol's cheek. The child is cold.

Something is stirred within him. Ancient. Primal.

"I'll find a way."

"I know. I could see you thinking about it as soon as I mentioned gods." Hesper sighs, already cluing in to the fact she can't sway him. Still, she makes him look at her. "I mean it, though. Find your way if you want, but don't be reckless. Please."

The Fierce Deity stills- the storm in his mind clearing as she pulls him from his thoughts. Her hands. They're on him. She's touching him. Willingly.

He backs down to step to her level.

"Yes... As you wish, Jewel." He whispers, unable to deny the look in her eye. His heart is pounding in his chest. What is this feeling?

"Thank you." She nods, checks on Sol one last time, then makes her way around the camp, checking in on the boys and seeing them off to bed.

... She can't believe she did that.

He can't believe she just did that.

He could have touched her back. He could have held her. He could have held her hand. He could have felt her skin and its warmth, its tone, its smooth silk-like quality.

A rare creature- both alluring and captivating. To humble him. To excite him.

He's never felt like a man until this point.

His eyes follow her as she moves through the camp.

This child means the world to her.

He'll protect them for the night.

Hesper looks back at him after a moment- Time does as well.

"Will you be sleeping?" She asks their shared question. She isn't sure if he needs sleep, but it never hurts to ask.

It takes a moment for the deity to register that she was speaking to him. When it hits he looks ashamed of not answering her sooner.

"No." He says. "You may rest for tonight. I have no plans for slumber."

She nods, then says goodnight to Time, returning to her brother's side. Instead of lying on a bedroll, she leans against the tree by his head, just shy of the deity's reach. If she’s sleeping, she’s in no hurry to do so.

The temptation the deity didn't know he'd have to restrain. He steadies himself to look away from her and the child, looking instead to the rest of the group and beyond.

He could do it. He could give in to everything he desires.

But she ran from mere words.

He would never live down pushing her away. So he sits still. Like a statue.

And behaves himself.

Even if he allows himself to fantasize in the meantime.

Hesper, for her part, glances at him, out of the corner of her eye.

He's really not that bad, she's decided. He's just... not used to people, she thinks. Yeah... not used to people. That made two of them, really.

She looks back into the forest, letting out a quiet sigh. Part of her is nervous. The last time someone took an interest in her, it was… It went bad, to say the least. She doesn't want that again.

But so far he seemed good. ...Overwhelming on the compliments, but good.

Oh gosh, the compliments. How could someone find that much to compliment her on? And not one thing about her power.

Courage.

Of course that's what he liked.

... It was cute, in a way. He's... he's pretty cute.

She'll admit that to herself. She can allow that.

She’s smiling a little when she nods off.

Seeing the faint smile on her face puts the deity a little more at ease. Time explains to the others (as they all tuck themselves in for the night) that they have nothing to fear from the old god and with time, they all turn in for the night as well and sleep peacefully.

Time gives one last glance at the large male before he also puts his head against his bed roll. The deity has seen him grow from boy to man- his old host has done much for him. The main one being his restraint- or rather- his desire to not abuse his power while he was imprisoned.

He will look after all of them. All of them. These young heroes of courage deserve to worry less about their journeys.

But as for Hesper...

He looks back to the child beside her.

The Fierce Deity vows that he will take care of that one, especially.

Hours pass and Hesper wakes with a start, as usual.

Dawn is coming. She checks to ensure she's properly covered, then gets up to check around the camp. She's so into her usual routine she forgets there's now a deity for a moment until she sees him.

"... Oh. Morning."

The Fierce Deity has already checked the perimeter and has returned from his second round. He bows to her. "Good dawn, Jewel."

She huffs in amusement. "You know, I’m not sure how I'm supposed to address you. Do you have a name or title you want us to use?"

Here, his cool confidence falters.

"I am known as the Fierce Deity. A war god. Protector of Termina......Cursed by the goddess to the form of a mask....and.... I have no other name."

"No other... ?" Hesper's eyes show she's frowning. "That's... horrible. I'm sorry to hear that."

The Deity flushes. "Gods of no honor receive none."

Demise is a name the Hylians gave him but he is known as The Demise. Or The Void. Titles are given when they have either fulfilled or gained their intended purpose. In which they are shortly after disposed of in one way or another.

Demise didn't approve of that and sought vengeance.

The deity himself fought back and was cursed.

But he was never meant to be loved. So he has no name. He knows this.

"I have accepted this."

"You have more honor than any god I know." She blurts. She's... surprised by how quickly it comes out. But she keeps going. "You... you deserve a name.”

His head snaps up to meet her head-on. "... I wouldn't dare… presume...."

"What name would you want? If... if you had one." It's not fair, Hesper laments in her heart. He should have one. Screw the regulations. He's done so much, for so long. She can see it on his face. He's earned a name. She'll name him herself if no one else will.

The deity looks to the ground. No one had ever asked him that before. He didn't think it would have been worth considering.

He looks at the boys. They all share the same name. It would be strange to take it for himself.

He frowns, feeling frustrated for not being able to give his queen an adequate answer. "I never gave it much thought. It was never of importance. I don't... I don't know..."

"That's okay." She assures him. "I... you don't have to take it if you don't like it, but... what about Thárros? It's... it's in my mother tongue, but... it means Courage."

"Thárros..." The name rolls off his tongue smoothly.

"Hesper..." He says her name for comparison. Frankly, he finds that her name is much sweeter on his tongue. But the note that the first name was chosen by his queen, in her maiden tongue no less, fills him with an indecipherable warmth. He's never been exposed to this sort of warmth before. He takes ahold of it.

"Thárros." He echoes himself. "You may call me that. If you desire, Jewel."

Her eyes crinkle, glimmering a little, and she nods. "I will. It's a pleasure to meet you, Thárros. And... you can call me Hesper, if you want. But Jewel's fine, too."

Dawn peeks over the horizon, and Hesper steps into the shade. The light makes contact with Sol's arm and a moment later he opens his eyes, once again full of life as he sits up and yawns. 'Morning...'

Wild sits up in another part of camp, going to make breakfast.

Thárros lets it rumble around his brain. It's a nice name. He smiles, smiling wider when Sol awakens. "Good morning, little one."

Time and Warrior both wake up soon after, getting ready for the day as well. They both send him nods of acknowledgement. He returns them with ease.

'Morning, Mister. How'd you sleep?' He yawns again, still not enough sunlight in his system yet. 'Oh! Did Hesper miss the sun today?'

"Yes, Sol, I'm over here." Hesper answers the last part for him.

"Miss the sun?" The Fierce Deity, now known as Thárros, looks over and tilts his head. Strange. But she is of the night.

"I didn't sleep." He responds to the child's earlier question. "I have no need for it."

'Oh, that’s cool. Yeah, Hesper wears so much clothes because she's allergic to the sun. It'll hurt her really bad if it touches her skin, so I always check.' Sol signs his understanding, but it doesn't take too much to decipher Sol processes Hesper's curse as an allergy. 'She’s only not missed it once, though, she's really good about it.'

Something in the old god’s heart breaks. That’s right, they’re both cursed. Forever shunned from either side of the day. How can they remain a family this way?

He nods in understanding, ruffling Sol’s hair in the process. "She must cherish you greatly. It's good that you look after her the way you do."

He'll break her curse too. He swears by this as well.

'Uh huh, we're really close! Even if she can't run around and play tag with Wind and I around camp, she's really good at hide and seek in the forest! She'll find me, sneak under my feet and toss me in the air! It's super fun! ' As the sun keeps rising, he gains more energy and signs faster. 'And we'll sit close during meals and after dinner we'll make up stories if I'm not playing with Wind and she taught me how to use a dagger and sneak and-!'

"Breakfast is ready!"

'Oo, breakfast! I'll be back with a plate for you, sis!' And off he runs.

Hesper laughs. "Ever the energetic one~"

Thárros shakes his head. "Most are at his age."

He then points to his old host, who's too busy trying to give out the food in an organized manner. "He was just as bad, if not worse."

Hesper chuckles. "I believe it. Though I'm willing to bet Sol can be energetic much longer than he ever was."

He hums. "....No. Not quite. The boy would stay awake for days on end. Never ceasing his quest for justice… I'm afraid Sol could not have done the same. Not with the curse upon him."

"Oh, I almost forgot he was a child hero." Hesper sighs. "I can't stand those... why must they fight so young?"

"Why indeed?" Thárros’ hand flexes over his knee. "I suppose the heroes all have their own curses to bear... It is the same with your Great Ones."

Well, I wouldn’t call them all great. Not when they treat the world as some toy they can toss away when it bores them." The glint in her eyes darkens briefly, then she looks up as her brother starts running back. "... Don’t tell Sol I said that."

The deity nods, even further fascinated by the woman next to him.

"I am not allowed to call The Great Ones anything but." He murmurs. "But it appears we aren't as different as I originally thought."

"Is that so? I suppose I should be nicer to them, but... well, I'm only nice to the gods I respect. Outside my family, that's just you." Hesper smiles as Sol reaches them, offering food. "Oh, I see you have three plates. You got one for Thárros too?"

Sol makes the connection quickly and nods, offering the deity a plate. He does not question the name.

Thárros subtly smiles and eases the weight off of the little one. "Thank you."

The deity begins to eat the strange meal. He's never had someone cook for him before either. He wasn't entirely sure he needed to eat. But the smell was kind and the other took no heed in questioning the methods behind it.

He takes a bite.

'You're welcome!' Sol plops down, separating the best slice of meat from the rest of his meal and eating the rest. Notably, Hesper does the same.

Naturally, the deity notices this, but he doesn't understand. There's many customs he hasn't needed to learn and so he has no reason to believe that it's anything strange to do. Not to mention they grew up with separate Great Ones to dictate the manner of conduct.

He makes no comment on it and simply eats like he's seen his old host do.

They both finish except for that one piece, and Sol turns to get Hesper's plate, sliding her remaining portion onto his. He walks over to the fire and scrapes them both in, signing 'For Mama.'

"... Nyx and Thárros." Hesper murmurs quietly.

Sol goes about collecting plates and helping them get clean while Hesper starts packing up.

That takes him by surprise.

An offering?

For him, no less.

If it was for their mother, he would understand more but for him? He's a lesser god. An ant of a divine being. He's no better than they are. Why would they offer something to him?

They pack up relatively quickly and make their way through the forest once more. He stays close to the back of the group, keeping quiet to not disturb the others as much as he can avoid. It appears Hesper is of the same train of thought, although she still isn’t quite sure what to make of him.

Hours turn to days turn to weeks turn to months. They are no better off finding the cure to their problem than he is finding the cure to the curses of the divine ones within the group.

The lack of progress is maddening. Thárros, as he is slowly beginning to grow accustomed to being called, has always considered himself a man of action and of results. To have nowhere to begin and no direction to follow is not in his nature.

However, that does not stop him from doting on Hesper whenever he has the time. And should the boys permit it, Sol takes it upon himself to use his body as his personal climbing gym. It warms Thárros’ heart that the boy is so welcoming of his presence. Link as a child was curious and desperate at best, but still wary.

It is a moment where he finds himself alone on patrol that he feels something shift in the air. He instantly puts his hand on the hilt of his blade. It is the middle of the day and he is in a clearing. Only someone foolish enough to not know who he is would threaten him here.

"... You're Thárros, yes? My sister speaks fondly of you."

The man spins on his heel, coming face to face with a woman he has never seen before but his confidence is shaken. A Great One. Her power is beyond his own. She stands as the dawning sun. Warm and giving, hopeful to a fault but dim. She does not stand in the direct light but she glows in the way a divine being can. He knows not who she is but respect has always been given until taken away.

His battle mask comes on.

He nods to her, bowing for good measure. "I am quite fond of her as well. May I ask of your name, Great One?"

"Yes, I can see it." Her smile is warm towards him, much like Hesper's. “I am called Hemera, goddess of the dawn and giver of days. Your loyalty to my sister is clear... You even wish to break the curse on her, from what I hear. I believe I can help with that."

Thárros' attention snaps to her. He takes a step closer despite his better judgment. "How?"

"I have crafted a bracelet for her... with it, she can walk in whichever light she wishes." She produces the item, offering it to him. "All it needs now is the touch of a deity from this world to be finished. I trust you wouldn't mind?"

He drops to take a knee. "It would be my greatest honor.”

Hemera is pleased. "Yes... you two are indeed a good match, just as I thought. May you live long lives together."

He nods, tenderly biting his lip from the inside. He cannot show weakness. He cannot fail.

It's never been this easy before. Truly there isn't any other catch to this.

Hemera presses the bracelet into his hand with a nod and a smile. It gains a shimmer to it; so quick it almost didn't seem real.

"I'll leave you to it, then." She stands and turns to leave. "... Thank you, Thárros. To you and your boys; for taking care of them when we can't."

He looks down into his palm and tucks the bracelet into his chest. Should he push his luck?

"And the boy?" He asks tentatively. "The child is cursed as well… Is that your domain? Can you help?"

Hemera looks sad at that. "I would help Sol if I could, but... we are both at the mercy of night. I'm afraid I can't help him."

Thárros stands. "...Is there a Great One who could?"

He refuses to only have one solution. He had promised Hesper to help her little brother. He has to push a bit further to make headway on his vows.

Hemera thinks about it. "... My father might. Erebus, the darkness itself. But... he has no love for either of them. He will not give you a solution as freely."

He nods; body rigid with pure determination. "I am willing to pay any price for either of them."

"Careful what you vow, Thárros." Hemera warns. "I have no doubt he'll use it against you if he can. ... Good luck on your quest. I hope you can free him."

His grip on the bracelet tightens. "I'm well aware."

He sees her off and looks back to the token in his hands.

He knows the Great One would rather have him sacrifice himself. But he was already imprisoned once. Worse case scenario he must cease to exist.

For Hesper?

He'd take that plunge.

His world has long grown out of a use for him and the Great Ones above him care not for his fate.

He'd do anything.

Thárros returns to camp quickly. He finds Hesper relatively quickly. She had fallen asleep in the shade of a great oak, a rare break she has given herself. He kneels beside her and regrettably shakes her shoulder gently. She rests so few and far between… but this, he feels, is beyond a moment of reprieve.

Hesper's eyes open and she stretches, grunting.

Not her most comfortable sleep, but better than none at all.

"Good dawn, Thárros." She’s started keying in when he's around, but she still blinks twice when she realizes he's closer than she thought. "... Did something happen?"

He bows toward her again. "I've had a visitor, Jewel."

He keeps his head low, waiting for her reaction. "A Great One by the name of Hemera."

"Hemera was here?" There’s a lightness to her tone; delight at hearing about her sister. "I didn't think she could get here. How is she? Just checking in?"

He smiles at her tone. There's trust there. He visibly relaxes. "Yes. She brought a gift."

"A gift?" Hesper chuckles. "For you or Sol?"

"For you." He whispers, bringing the bracelet into the light.

She pauses, not expecting that.

"... For me?" She reaches out, fingers just grazing the bracelet before she draws them back with a gasp. "What- what kind of magic is that? It's so warm."

"A protection." He urges her to take it. "From the light, Jewel."

He gulps, beginning to second-guess himself. The feelings he's never experienced until he met this woman scare him. "It cures your curse."

She looks at him. In disbelief. In shock. But then the stars in her eyes start to shimmer with hope.

Carefully, she takes the bracelet and puts it on. As it clicks around her wrist, it shimmers again, and she can feel the warmth spread through her whole body.

"... I can't believe it." She says softly. "After all this time... I can really..." She looks up from the bracelet, pulling down her mask just as the tears fall. "Thank you."

He panics and reaches to wipe her tears as gently as he can. "Why? Why thank me so? I have yet to help the little one."

Not to mention he can't really take credit for this. If anything, it means they would have gotten help sooner but no one cared enough to offer it. Even those that could.

But she seems overjoyed, so he won't ruin it for her.

"Yes, but you brought my hope back. I was certain-" She decides not to finish that, reaching forward and hugging him tight without a care in the world. "Thank you, Thárros. For caring."

Thárros shivers when she says his name. It's a power she has over him. It's exciting yet humbling.

He gulps, wrapping his arms around her as well. "I will help the child. Thank me not, yet. My work isn't finished."

But he tucks his nose into her hair. "However, I'm glad that you are taken care of."

"One thing down." Hesper exhales in agreement, relaxing against him. He's so warm... She feels safe like this.

Wild coughs, and it gets Hesper's attention. "Uh... good morning? Have a nice nap?"

Hesper goes pink and attempts to slowly pull out of the hug, despite a part of her screaming to just shadow away. "... Good afternoon, Wild."

Thárros doesn't let her go. If anything, he holds on tighter. He calls the young hero his affection-given name. "Good afternoon, Cub."

He turns his head to look at the young man. "Has the meal been prepared?"

"Working on it." The young man replies.

... Hesper is fine. This is comfortable. She's not-

Oh, who is she kidding, her growing appreciation and attraction are so obvious right now! Still, she doesn't move. In fact, she indulges herself and tucks her head in the crook of his neck. If he insists on keeping her here, she'll just get more comfortable.

Thárros nods towards Wild, turning his attention back to the woman in his arms. He holds her close, tucking her against him. He dare not ask for more from her.

He tenderly trails his fingers through her hair. But words fail him.

She tilts her head into his touch, trying to encourage him to continue.

This is nice. She likes this, earlier embarrassment aside. Sol sits up now that the rain clouds have passed, yawning with eyes half open. 'No... wanna go back to sleep...'

Hesper chuckles. "Afternoon, Sol. Did you enjoy your nap as well?"

'Hello. Sleep was ok...' He turns, blinking blearily. '... Your hood is off... Hair pretty. You like it short?'

"Easy to manage, I suppose."

Sol nods slowly, the gears in his brain turning slowly. '... Wait... hood off... no sunburn?'

Hesper shows him her bracelet. "Magic sunblock."

'Magic... sunblock? So you can...' It hits and he perks up. 'You can play tag?'

"Yes." Hesper snorts as Sol stumbles out of bed, running to tackle Wind and get a game started.

The deity chuckles, brushing Hesper's hair away from her face. "How do you feel, Jewel?"

"... Warm." She smiles. "The kind of warmth night can't replicate... it's nice."

"Ack- Sol, what- ... WHAT?!" Wind's shout catches the attention of several other Links, most of them confused and unimpressed. "Guys, Hesper can be in the sun!"

Wild looks up from his pot, blinking, then it clicks that Hesper and Thárros are in the sun and he mouths 'oh'.

The fierce deity smiles, grinning even. But instead of letting the others see it, he hides his face in the crook of her neck. "I'm glad."

He pulls away, teasing a kiss to her cheek. "You shouldn't need to hide from now on."

She giggles, even as her cheeks turn pink. "Aw, but sneaking around is fun!"

The rest of the camp is thrown for a loop; especially Time.

"It's only fun when it's voluntary." He whispers. "I feel as if I'm finally seeing you for the first time."

He pulls back, looking her over now that she can have her face out without any concern. He hums quietly, ignoring the other boys. "Typically the sun would overpower the light of the stars… but dare I say you appear even more bedazzled than usual, Darling."

She flusters more, attempting to pull her mask up. "How? I haven't done anything-"

He stops her, poking her nose with his. "Don't. I'm not done admiring you yet, Jewel."

"F... fine." She accepts her fate, embarrassing as it is. "If you insist..."

Warrior coughs from the sidelines. "I didn't think he had moves."

Time pales. "Honestly.... neither did I."

'Her stars are pretty, so it makes sense he wants to watch them.' Sol grins.

"Stars?" Wind blinks.

'Yeah, Hesper has stars in her eyes!'

"Oh, like how you have the sun-shaped birthmark."

'I think so? Yeah!'

Thárros takes the moment to study her. He finds it fascinating. Her eyes are full and deep and beautiful. His are flat, plain, off-putting.

He kisses her again, on her forehead, unable to hold himself back. Then he moves to her other cheek and her temple. Then onto the other side.

He kisses the tip of her nose and seemingly moves to her lips but pauses.

"Dearest... I would travel through hells for you..." He whispers. "I merely wish for you to be honored as you deserve. Whether it be with me... or another..."

But he's not too fond of the latter idea.

"... You act as if I'd choose someone else." The idea that he even considers that... annoys her. "I've let you this close, haven't I? Isn't it obvious by now, Thárros?"

His grip on her tightens as he goes completely rigid. His jaw clenches and he gulps. "...I'm afraid I am unworthy. For you... your name... your legacy...your family..."

He closes his eyes, brushing his nose against hers, taking her presence in. "I... am a selfish man. But I cannot fault you, should you choose another."

Hesper huffs, warm breath fanning over his face. "Seriously?"

She kisses him, right there, in front of the whole camp.

A choked noise comes out of him, clearly taken off guard.

His hands fly upwards, caging her in and holding her closer. One hand on her cheek, the other entangled in her hair.

He gives in to his desires at last.

Hesper makes a point to kiss him for a long moment, both to prove something and because it felt good to kiss him. When she finally draws back, however, it's softly, and she's cradling his face like he's as precious as he likes to say she is. "... I... choose you. Understand? No one else, Thárros. I love you."

He keeps her close though- not allowing her to be too far away from possibly being kissed again. Thárros gulps and nods. "I have already chosen you… My Love."

The frustration mixed with her look of adoration slips away, and she huffs in amusement. "Good. Glad we're on the same page."

"... Lunch is ready." Wild hesitantly breaks the moment, the first to find his voice in the shocked silence of... everyone.

The one… previously known as The Fierce Deity was overjoyed for the longest time. He was no longer bothered by their lack of progress. To see the Jewel of the Sixteen Realms laugh and play in the sun as she’s always yearned warmed his heart. It seemed as if there was a hole that was filled from that point on, both in Hesper and in Sol.

And to finally kiss her.

It only solidified his determination to help where he was needed. Surely, there would still be battles to fight and a war to win, but this purpose had a higher meaning now.

If he had to lay his existence on the line for the sake of one little boy, he would do so without a second thought. While he would miss his Jewel, and he knew now, that it would pain her for him to leave. If it was called for, he would give. And give and give. She deserved to live happily. She was robbed of the light and of the pleasures of day. And as a consequence, she was robbed of her brother and his childhood.

And her brother deserved to have his big sister by his side to protect him- not to watch him from a distance where she cannot go. Sol should know the wonders of the night and beauty of the stars. It is the realm of his mother and his sister. The darkened skies are a peace to mankind. He should know those as well.

A family must be whole.

He says none of this to Hesper, for fear she should convince him otherwise. But he has never broken a vow before, nor does he plan to begin to do so.

It is once again, when he is alone on patrol that another Great One from the other realm visits him. This time, however, the world shifts around him and Thárros is enveloped in darkness. He sees no body either in front of him or around him.

He need not introduce himself. The darkness speaks to cut to the chase. "Hemera says you wish to break a curse. That requires a test, does it not? Sure you can wield the sword and ‘protect’... but I know your kind. Savage. Rough. Beastly. Prove yourself capable of restraint and maybe I'll help the child."

“Erebus.” The Fierce Deity bows in the darkness. A Great One of the highest regard should be treated as such, no matter how savage he considers them to be. The Great One gives him no such respect in return.

"Do not move from where you stand, boy. What you are going to see has already transpired. Try to help her-" The omnipresent form before Thárros grins wickedly, a smile that promises pain. "And I will send you back to where you came from in failure."

Thárros growls, hate and wrath already burning in his stomach.

The Great One laughs. "This would be interesting to watch. Begin."

The darkness shifts, forming a room. A man stands before him, holding a wailing baby. It's- her arm has been touched by sunlight, smoke curling into the air from the contact. Hesper turns into the man's shadow, melting away and into a darkened corner of the house, still crying. The man gasps.

"What the- what kind of demon are you?!" The man grabs a knife, face twisted in disgust as he starts towards her. "Nevermind that! Go back to wherever you came from, you little devil!"

The man swings towards Hesper and-

The scene changes.

The once Fierce Deity tenses considerably, but makes no move.

She's older now. A man sits with her, a weaker demigod, holding the arm burnt in her childhood and examining the scars it left behind.

"It never healed?"

"Not really." She says softly, pulling her arm back. "That's why I wear the cloak... to protect me from the sun. Until I find something else, at least."

The man nods, something glinting in his eyes. Something dark. "So... it really can kill you."

She doesn't see it, standing from the table. "Yes. That's why I visit at night... I really should go, Lityerses. Hemera is coming soon."

Something crashes to the floor. A mirror, sending shards everywhere.

"Lit?! Are you alri-"

"Hemera." 'Lit' grasps the edge of a curtain. "Is already here."

He rips the curtain down, sunlight flooding the room and reflecting off of all the shards. Hesper screams in pain, retreating to a corner and hiding behind her cloak. "Lit, what are you doing?!"

"I'm sick of you leaving." He pulls down another curtain and another, ignoring her cries for him to stop. "I'm starting to wonder if you even love me."

"I do! Lit, please-!"

"That's not good enough." He pulls down the last curtain, looking at the cloak wrapped so tight he can only see the shape of her. "I don't want you to leave ever again. You're mine, Hesper. Only mine."

Then he took the curtains and left.

Leaving her to sob.

Thárros can feel the need to conjure his sword bubble under the surface of his skin. He studies the face of the man intently, but makes no move from his spot.

The memories with Lit continue. There’s days worth. Months worth. Years worth. Every time he appears through the door, Thárros has to remind himself there's an end to this. Somewhere, eventually, this ends. He stops screaming at her. He stops abusing her. He stops demanding things he has no right to demand. She stops crying.

It takes another year’s worth of memories before he hears a second man. Not Lit. The small form in the corner shifts.

"... Don't." She hisses to the second man. "Don't eat, don't drink. It's a trick."

She flinches as Lit kicks the door, but she keeps going. "He intends to slow you so you can't beat him."

"Beat him in what?" The man replies.

"A harvesting contest!"

"SHUT UP!" A harsher kick, and she goes quiet again. But the man stands.

"Who is she?"

"A foolish woman who can't keep her mouth shut!" Lit throws open the door, intent on getting her, but the second man pulls him back outside.

"You can deal with her after you beat me."

Lit laughs. "Alright, fine! I've never been beat before, I won't start now!"

Thárros felt great satisfaction when Hercules took his head off.

He watched on as the scenes went by faster; near hits, near kills, threats, all while she gained more scars and better equipment to deal with the sun.

Then she was at a camp. A camp full of demigods. She watched them at night, through the shadows of the woods. She protected them, kept the monsters in line.

And she was utterly alone.

They were frightened of her, of her power. They didn't even know her name. They gave her no thanks. No offering.

Did they even know what she did for them?

Even the children of her brother, Hypnos, avoided her.

... And she protected them anyway.

Tharros was glad that he had picked up from the mortals on how to control their emotions. Something he didn't think he had the discipline to learn.

He had gleaned bits and pieces of her past from their conversations, and from what the others would say and from what Sol would say but he never imagined it so vividly.

It was maddening. Blood boiling.

The only thing he could focus on was how he would have changed it all. How he would have made them worship her, how he would have protected her- treated her like the goddess she is. She would have never wanted for anything or would have worked a day in her life.

FD bit his tongue on multiple occasions. The slight metallic tang in his mouth wasn't enough to deter him from calming down. But it did keep him in place. It kept him from moving. It kept him from going to and destroying them all.

He had clenched his fists so hard that he was sure that his nails had pierced his skin.

Hesper would no doubt question him about it later.

But this is for her brother. Her kin. The one she loved so dearly.

The only other to love her as completely as he did.

It was due.

He would not compromise himself or the child.

He would. Not. Move.

"... Hmph." The Great One huffed, breath ruffling his hair. "I commend you, boy. All that pain to your beloved, and still you refuse to move."

Erebus pauses, watching as a black blood throws Hesper to the ground, driving its weapon through her shoulder. The day Thárros first saw her.

Erebus laughs.

"I fail to see what you do in that pitiful wretch, but I will admit, your loyalty is quite amusing."

Instead of feeling more rage at the scene before him, he calms. He is reminded of what he saw in her, why he fell so hard for her.

He’s reminded why he's here.

He ignores the Great One's sting to her. He takes a breath. "It is I who sees it. You need not concern yourself with it. All I endure is so that you keep your end of the bargain."

"... Enough." Erebus scoffs, and it all ends. "You know the rest of it, so I won't bother making you relive it. Your point is made, and your trial passed. As agreed, I will undo what has been done to the boy."

The Fierce Deity only tenses up more, afraid of ruining this. He nods and bows once more (despite his distaste for the Great One in front of him) for good measure. "My thanks."

"Yes yes, be on your way." Erebus grunts, waving him off into the familiar shadows of Hylian forest. It appears that hours have passed since he has left the group. Night has recently fallen. The last simmers of the sunlight are barely holding onto the horizon. As Thárros walks, the Great One speaks one last time. "... I'm impressed, boy. No god here would do as you have this day. Tell me, who is it that has passed my trial?"

... He's asking for his name?

"I am the Protector of Termina." He settles for a neutral title. "But I am called... Thárros by the daughter night."

"Thárros..." A laugh bubbles out of the primordial being. "Yes, courage indeed... So you will be known by me, Thárros the Protector."

Something alights within him with that. A new purpose. A god with a name.

A god worth honoring.

He bows once more in respect.

Then he turns to leave.

Erebus' presence leaves him and back towards camp Hesper releases a startled yelp.

"Ah! Oh my gods- Sol, you're awake! I- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, yes I know it's late-"

Thárros starts running to the camp.

He stops by the edge, watching Sol sign as quickly as he can, both in confusion and fascination. The young child keeps poking and checking his skin- as if he's expecting to start burning like his sister does.

Relief? Love? Acceptance? He doesn’t know what emotion explodes within him. Whatever it is causes tears to roll down his cheeks and he drops to his knees.

He did it.

He actually did it.

Both siblings turn to him at the sound of his collapse and run to him.

"Thárros? What happened? Are you alright?" Hesper asks as Sol reaches up and wipes his tears away with warm, tiny hands.

Words fail him.

He leans down for Sol to reach better and kisses the boy on the forehead. "Enjoy your blessings, child."

He runs his hand over his hair before turning and picks Hesper up, spinning her around in circles. He peppers her face in all the kisses he can before he dips her, kissing her soundly.

When he pulls back, leaving her dizzy and breathless, he finally finds it in himself to speak coherently. "I told you I'd do it."

"... Oh my gods." Her eyes widen, sparkling as she looks from Sol to him again. "You- oh my gods!"

She laughs and pulls him in for another kiss. Sol has no idea what's happening but he runs around grinning.

He kisses her back happily.

No one else knows what's happening. They're still wondering why Sol hasn't fallen asleep yet, or rather, why he woke up.

Thárros pulls away first, hooking Hesper's legs around his waist. "Be my woman… Please..."

Hesper laughs again as she holds his shoulders to steady herself. "I thought I already was."

"Officially..." He whispers. "I believe Sol mentioned an apple is typically involved."

Hesper went pink, words lost as her lips parted. Slowly though, she smiles, stars warm with light. "... Yes. I'd love to, Thárros."

He smiles back and rests his forehead against hers. "Then it's decided then."

He steals a kiss, running his hands through her hair. "You will want for nothing, I swear by it."

Hesper giggles, brushing white locks from his face. "Of course not. I already have all I could need."

"I would believe a roof is in order, first." Thárros teases, feeling overjoyed and boyish and whole.

"Stay with me." He whispers. "You and the boy."

They could all be together. He would protect them all. His woman, the child-....

Could they start a family? He doesn't want to get his hopes up. But the thought of little ones running around, excites him now that there's little for him to fear.

'Yeah!' Sol somehow wiggles his way between them both. 'I wanna stay with Thárros!'

"Well, if we're all in agreement." Hesper laughs, ruffling Sol's hair along with Thárros'.

Sol chuckles, letting her do as she pleases.

This is it. He's going to do everything in his power. If anything would touch a single hair on their heads... He would have to be personally brought into hell itself for him to cease the rains of fire.

The name placed upon him is Thárros. His old title means nothing now. He is no longer the honorless Fierce Deity but rather Thárros the Protector. He is alight with a new purpose and will remain with his name until his purpose is completed.

He will always have his purpose, for now and forever.

"No one is going anywhere then. You're safe."

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #Fierce Deity #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #i guess?#they're not fully mentioned but Hesper is from that universe #legend of zelda #the fierce deity #FD #Fierce Deity x OC #fierce deity x oc #goodness is that everything?#i doubt it

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