#the blind wolf demon/the wolf demon with moonlight eyes

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

*Kai was flying home on his Overwing as he was running errands for dinner wanting Rex to finally be at ease*

Rex was now done but he was yawning trying to wake up, even if he was done with his present. He was up all night trying to make it perfect.

Xian-Li was trying to help his dad but he knew he was still getting more sleepy.

[heartfullofleeches]

why can’t we have monster sheriff reader and horny ass town mayor and bandits

(Werewolf sheriff? Werewolf sheriff.)

A picture frame crashes to the abyss as you tumble into the nightstand. Those god damn idiots. Robbing someone blind on today of all days. The rage visible in the venom dripping from your teeth only upped their ante. None the wiser to your curse, the little demons damn near fainted when a growl slipped from your throat as you chased them about, catching the bastards in record time so you could return home before it was too late.

Your spine curves against the floorboards as you fall onto your side. You barely made it back before the transformation began. Your fangs assault your gums in trial to force out your human canines; the smell of the blood flowing from the vacant holes sending you into a furor. Course hair sprouts over your entire body, stemming from the deep claw marks on your bicep. The scar flares with a white hot pain in similar burn to when you first received it, the fruit bearer of your blight.

You drag your body across the floor as your limbs extend; fighting to reach the basement before the haze clouding your mind traps your brain in its fog. Vision spotty, the soft moonlight on your back doesn't register until you're facing it fully as you writhe in pain. Your talons rip the wood to shreds as your conciousness slips; heartbeat hammering through your maw. The last thing you hear before everything fades is a door handle rolling across the floor.

-

"You moron! Now they'll know we're here if they're home."

"Sorry! I'm still excited from earlier. Coulda swarn they were tryin to take my head off with that swing."

Shaking off the fuzzy shutter the memory brings, the lockpicker joins the rest of the group in piling into your home. The bandits were worried about you after your public display. While you losing your shit was a welcome surpise, they feared you had a bad week and wanted to cheer you up in the only way they knew how. Stealing things and dumping them off in your shack.

As they place their goods in various directions, a shout comes from the bedroom.

"Hey, guys- come quick!"

Rushing inside your room, the bandits stumble across the scene of a crime that looks like a tornado blew in armed to the teeth in blades. The nightstand was knocked over and blinds torn from the rack. Claw marks splintered the floors, walls, and even the ceiling. The moonlight centered on the bloodstains in the carpet; four teeth embedded in the wool.

The leader kneels and picks up a tooth. "What the hell happened here?"

"Is the sheriff okay?..."

"Look outside, I saw something move!"

A large shadow slinks away from view. Reflecting the natural light, the pin on its tattered clothes could only be one thing. The sheriff's badge.

"What was that?"

"Whatever it was, it has something to do with the sheriff. Follow it."

Fueled by anger and fear, the bandits barrel out the backdoor and after the creature. It's long gone by the time they tumble outside, but footprints and broken leaves lead them directly in its wake. Their adrenaline makes the chase as close to a match as possible for a beast of such calibre; broad shoulders easily the size of at least two of the bandits' torsos.

The pursuit comes to a halt as the group approaches the old farmer's gate. Fool spent a fortune on silver wiring after the lawsuit he lawsuit. As it stands still, the bandits get a good look at the creature. Fur as black as midnight, jaws and dentures that could snap some clean in two, familiar eyes. Looking closely at the beast, it becomes clear that the torn clothes on them aren't from them ripping someone to shreads, but from someone growing to large to wear them. A sheriff hat sits tucked bewteen its ears.

"S...sheriff?

The wolf's ear twitches in recognition. You huff in warning.

All at once things become clear to the group. All at once - that fear they each felt blends with something else. Those claws. That build. You could annihilate whoever you pleased. And that was one of the hottest things imaginable.

"Holy shit."

The human part of your brain wonders if now would be the best time to use the silver bullet tied around your neck as they approach. The weight of nearly a dozen humans jumping on you is about the same as a fly in your hair, but to avoid any casualties you allow them their fun. You have enough control for that, you think- till hands start wondering where they shouldn't.

[ink-bunny-blue]

Find The Word tag game

Tagged by @blind-the-winds . Your excerpts were so much fun! I'm in love with the concept of demon summoning in a mall. The chosen words were Gold, Green, Great, Glass, and Give.

I tag @sparrow-orion-writes @attemptingwriter @the-down-upside-finch and your words will be Leaves, Letter, Smile, Strange, and Broken

As always, excerpts are from A Pocket Of Moons, since its currently the only wip that's fit for human consumption.

Gold

Her panic began to smoulder, but the dread still burned close to her heart. When her breaths levelled out, Madeline looked around the room, the silhouettes of the clocks gathering around her like sympathetic strangers, all ticking back and forth to one another in a language she couldn't understand. Rising up, she took the candle and held it to the face of the tall clock to her right. Its hands glistened a thousand shades of gold, and a low heartbeat sounded within its chest.

Green

“We both are alone out here. Whether beast or man, I want you to show yourself to me. Please. I want to know you.” Outside, the moon came out from beneath the clouds, and a single ribbon of light fluttered through a window above, illuminating a pair of eyes right in front of her own. He had been standing in front of her the whole time. Instead of recoiling in terror, Madeline smiled. The eyes across from hers had the same green wisdom as the wolf’s eyes, framed with long lashes and pale eyelids. They held her own gaze as they had done before, then wandered down to the book in her hand. He spoke in a voice just above a whisper: “Can you read to me?”

Great

Athena hushed him and spoke to him like the child she remembered him as. “Let's get you inside. There's no use standing here in the cold, is there?” She led Enoch into the front room and brought him to the couch to rest, draping a blanket over his shoulders. Though his head was hung, his eyes scanned the room as he remembered all the years he had spent in it. The wide mantelpiece where the family had told ghost stories on Midwinter night, the cameo portraits hung on the wall, the great Persian rug which spanned the room. But then he closed his eyes and shut the memories out. He couldn’t bear to think of the past when the present hurt enough already. “Well…what a surprise.” Athena said, nestling on the couch opposite. “I am glad to see you again- so so glad."

Glass

Soon, the sky opened and poured out the first of November’s rain, dotting the marble headstones with dark wet spots. Madeline packed her materials into the wooden box as Enoch led her into a mausoleum behind the yew, pulling up his hood again. The names on the marble vaults had long since faded, and the colours of the small stained-glass window were dulled by the rain. Outside, the drops fell in diagonal chrome shafts, drumming the roof, and dissolving the world in its haze. Both friends smiled wide, eyes soft, as they sat beneath the low ceiling, waiting for the rain to pass.

Give

Then slowly, he turned his head, and over his shoulder was a figure raised above the rest, sat up and watching him with eyes reflecting the moonlight. Enoch was sure his legs would give from under him. But as his vision cleared, he made out the auburn curls of the chorister. He stood, unsure what to do as his face burned with panic. But very slowly, very gently, Saxifraga raised a single finger to his lips, bringing a rush of relief to Enoch’s mind. I won't tell. He nodded in return. And turning back, he made the final few steps then passed the treeline, before bolting into the dark, leaving the cruel hounds sleeping behind him.

[thatonegeekygirl]

I Shook Hands with the Midnight Monsters (A Short Story by thatonegeekygirl)

It’s dark. My tired eyes strain to make use of the faint moonlight peeking through my shuttered blinds. I can decipher hints of shape. The ceiling. The top of my desk chair. The wall. Remnants of dream cling to my thoughts like cobwebs, slowing them to a dismal crawl. The house is silent, but not peaceful. There is a tangible feeling of anticipation in the air. Reality feels…off. Altered. I move to shift onto my side, and find that I cannot. I am paralyzed. A presence creeps from the darkness. Two bloodshot eyes, pupils slits of obsidian that stare, unrelenting, into my own. The thing’s movements are disjointed on its elongated limbs, fingers with too many joints grasp at my bedposts, knees tethering together too-long legs stretch and crouch. Color runs from it as do deer from a starving wolf, and the blackness of void coats it in their place. Light slithers in through flaking holes in its body. It chitters silently. It stalks forward, head tilting at me, skinless jaw displaying twin rows of skewed, razor sharp canines. Predator mouth. My blanket presses against my legs as it pads forward and clambers onto my chest. Its mouth yawns open and I see a long, rotting, bloodred tongue. “Hi, Jerry,” It says.

My mum always told me to avoid lucid dreaming. Now, J, she would say as she waggled a spindly finger, if you reach into the world of dream too many times, you may find that one day, something reaches back. Little me would nod sagely, promise her I’d stop, and continue doing it regardless. I just didn’t believe her. I mean honestly, the concept of summoning night terrors through my lucid dreaming was laughable. Conjuring up dream-cupcakes hardly seemed like a gateway drug to demonic harassment. At least, that’s what I told myself.

The first time Hastur came to visit me I was scared out of my mind. To be fair, seeing a lurching eldritch-horror scuttle into your bedroom at 2 o’clock in the morning, whereupon you find yourself unable to move a muscle in defense, is enough to scare anyone. I must’ve been exuding a terrified aura because he hurried to settle beside me and say nervously, “Calm down!” I didn’t. I wanted to scream but of course, I couldn’t. The only movement allowed by my well-meaning brain was the drip of sweat sliding down my neck. “I’m not going to hurt you! I swear!” He said, forlorn. Mum, you were right, I thought to myself, too bad I won’t live to tell you. I steeled myself and waited for oblivion. “Guess I won’t be talking to you either…” There was a pause. Then the sensation of shifting form, the rustle of sheets, and he was gone.

I awoke to a nagging sting of guilt. It poked at me while I drew, lonely eyes sneaking into backgrounds and characters. Shadowy corners took lonesome shape. I wasn’t quite sure what had occurred the night previous, but I found myself pitying this thing I knew nothing about. Perhaps that is what led me to write the note.

Hi, it read, my name’s Jerry. What’s yours? The words were scrawled on plain printer paper with black Sharpie, simple, nothing fancy. I secured it with Scotch tape on the wall above my pillow, and as I crawled into bed I wondered faintly what the hell I was doing. I slept soundly and didn’t wake once, and I assumed the creature had left for good. But then I noticed the paper had been flipped. Hastur, read the chicken-scratch words now printed there, nice to meet you.

When Hastur came the next night my heart didn’t falter. We had a rather one sided conversation, mine consisting only of a new note that said, You’re welcome to hang out with me. I can’t talk, obviously. But I’m happy to listen. He spoke of his life and how he wished often that he weren’t a nightwalker. Of his siblings and their love for solitude and gloom, how they thought him odd for disliking it, for seeking out the company of restless humans. Before he disappeared again into shadow he asked, eyes searching, if he could return.

My eyelids aren’t paralyzed, I thought to myself that day, and my memory’s good. Morse code. Said the note to him. We’re going to have to learn morse code.

To my surprise and delight, I soon discovered Hastur’s wry sense of humor. Quite unlike the group of morose mid-20 year olds that were both my friend group and Tim Hortons colleagues. Who knew night terrors could make puns.

Y name Hastur? I asked him one late Sunday, in my stilted eyelid-language. He released a warm jet of air and a snuffed hiccuping sound. Laughter. “My parental kin are old school.” Could b wrse. I replied. Satan. Hastur collapsed in a fit of huffing cackles.

“G’night, Jerry,” Hastur said. “Get some rest before your shift tomorrow.” Wait, I blinked, got u somthn. He raised a nonexistent eyebrow. “Oh?” I glanced pointedly to my left. Hastur followed my gaze to the little box wrapped in newspaper, and with delicate touch he opened it. “Jer…” he breathed softly. Hope u can bring it with u whrevr u go in daytime, I continued, I know phones dont work. U said u get lonely. Tht maybe music could keep u company. Hastur held up the old walkman and headphones with reverence. “…thank you, my friend.” He gushed over the beauty of Meatloaf days after.

We fell into a routine. Every other night, to ensure I wouldn't exhaust myself, he’d come and we'd talk about anything and everything. On Saturdays I’d bring him a new cassette tape with handpicked songs. I found myself growing closer to the eccentric monster than I ever had been with human friends. People did always tell me I was weird.

One particularly rough Monday, after fighting with one of his brother-bonded kin, I hugged Hastur–or rather, I offered to and he shuffled into my unmoving embrace. He told me it was the first time someone had willingly held him.

It is now the middle of April, the dreary twilight outside as cloaked in shadow as ever, and Hastur tips his head politely as he greets me. Hlo Has, my eyes say, hows spring treatin u. “Fine,” he tucks himself against the wall and rests his chin in a hand. His posture, though always stooped, is unusually droopy. Smthn wrong? He meets my concerned gaze. “…I have to go for a while.” What do u mn? “I have to…leave, here,” he explains, staring at nothing. “Earth. This plane. One of our siblings got in a tussle, a fight, with a human teenager. The Assembly is summoning everyone back home until things cool down.” Finally he turns to me, eyes glistening. “I won’t be back for a long time.” I want desperately to hug him once more, but I settle instead for saying, I’ll miss u. How long is long? “A year or two at least,” Hastur answers, and I can see the words pain him. “…here.” He places the walkman beside me. Why r u givn me this? “Don’t you want it back?” Flickering confusion. “I’d hate to take it from you.” Ur not takin it, I blink, just borrown it. “But won’t you be…gone?” His voice cracks. “Most humans your age don’t stay in one place for long. If you find a partner, or a better job, you shouldn’t hesitate to forget about me, Jer. I’m just…a night terror.” A nght terror, sure, but not ‘just’ anythng, I respond, slowing my blinks to ensure they’re right. Ur my best frnd. Ill wait 4 u. His face floods with emotion. Keep th walkman, I press, ill have a new cassette waitin 4 u whn u get bck. He looks away for a moment, twin tears escaping. “Thank you, Jerry Springer,” Hastur murmurs. He grasps my shoulder and squeezes it once. I summon all the willpower contained in my stubby body and set my lips firmly in a smile. Your welcm, Hastur Nightwalker.

______________________________________________________________

Wrote this as a creative writing project for school last year, and upon recent reflection noticed it seemed both very Tumblr and spooky season-y. It's one of my favourite pieces of writing that I've completed to date. Hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing it :)

[alettertothesea]

Film Noir

Tobio felt his calves’ muscles tensed more and more. Every fiber was about to snap. A sharp heat wormed up his legs, numbing his thighs which were just as hard and contracted. Yet he couldn’t stop running. He had never been closer to capturing his prey than today. It was escaping him, running as fast as he did. And although his lungs were desperate for oxygen to refill them or his throat was as dry as if thousands of bees had stung its walls, he had to catch up with it.

And he had to ignore even more the phantom of his laughter that was echoing against the brick walls of the back alleys in which he was getting lost. Tobio felt like he was chasing after a young child who was going deeper and deeper in a maze with no exit. The only clue to his position and the direction to take was this crystalline, almost evil song which buzzed in his ears and made him fall in a spiral of dizziness.

Tobio sprinted into another alley after a tight corner and stopped dead.

In front of him, hidden in the shadows, he was there, staring at him, studying him, as if he were a caged animal, wondering if he was going to be the next guinea pig for his experiments. Tobio partially saw the grin that lit up his lips, the scar that crossed his cheek looking like a smirk that stretched to his ear.

At the sight, his blood ran cold in his veins, while a shiver ran up his spine, making him clenched his teeth and fists.

A furtive movement caught his attention, his eyes instantly falling to the man’s left hand. For a split second, the moonlight reflected off the steel of the knife blade, the bright, silver light blinding him, causing him to close his eye when it burned his retina. And in the silence of the night, the atmosphere of the back alley becoming heavier and the air nonexistent, he heard it.

Drip-drop

Drip-drop

The sound of the crimson blood drops that still stained the bladed weapon dripped in a steady melody against the dull asphalte of the narrow space. In the peculiar calmness of the Big Apple, Tobio felt like a downpour had suddenly fallen on him, on them, on the city. And as fatal as the chase after his prey had been, he saw again the crime scene from earlier before his eyes.

A wolf, lips drawn back on menacing, sharp fangs, bent over its freshly killed victim, growled to dare anyone present in the room to come closer.

If it looked like the Big Bad Wolf killed poor Little Red Riding Hood in his memory, Tobio knew it was just a nicer reality his brain was trying to create. In fact, the wolf was a demon, straddling the poor and still warm body of a woman. The fangs ready to bite you was a smile so white it shone brighter than the full moon in the dark night. And the growls were demonic laughter. A euphoric rattle coming from the back of the throat and conveying all the ecstasy of the intoxication of a murder. Big amber doe eyes were plunged in his blue ones, as hands pushed the weapon deeper into the chest of the dead body beneath him, teasing him, daring him to arrest him.

“Here we go again, you and me.” The hoarse and low voice, which echoed enough in this confined and silent back alley, where only the beating of their hearts could be heard, snapped him out of his thoughts. “How long has it been? Aren’t you tired chasing after me? After all these years?”

Tobio slowly looked up at the silhouette whose outline he could barely see in the shadows and stared at the dense, black mass where his prey’s eyes should be.

“Come on, Inspector Kageyama, catch me if you can.”

The voice was just a whisper brought by a draft, tickling the thin, sensitive skin of his ear, before he heard footsteps in the darkness in front of him, the Demon of New York slipping through his fingers like smoke.

[texanredrose]

Okay, to put some limitations on this, I’m only including the WIPs that I’ve done more than a synopsis for... that I can remember... that’s on Google Drive... that I actually think I might post one day... but haven’t posted yet because my posted WIPs are fairly easy to identify... okay... I got tagged by @unsteadyshade and I’m tagging @faunusrights and @alexlayer69

1) Across Time - Inuyasha AU where Weiss gets thrown back in time to the ancient past, where she meets two demons (Yang and Blake) warring against each other over a misunderstanding.

2) Alpha’s Devotion - Omega’s Strength, but from Winter’s POV.

3) Bears, Oh My - An exhausted Winter, lost on a hike, comes across a cabin where Yang lives with her three pet bears.

4) Brave New World - Continuation of the Dishonored AU where Ruby and Winter reflect on the new Mantle.

5) Bruised - Third installment to the ace!Yang AU. 

6) Coming Home - Based on Dash’s Tiny Knight AU, Princess Blake is betrayed and stranded far from home and must rely on a reticent knight named Weiss to return to her kingdom.

7) Complications Always Arise - Papa Schnee is demanding Weiss marry before he’ll allow her to take his place as head of the SDC, so Yang volunteers to pretend to be Weiss’ beloved. No one else knows the relationship is fake, least of all Blake and Winter, and it’s just a bunch of pain.

8) Divided - Continuation of the By Moonlight AU where Whitley returns to the castle and Winter’s not upset by that- and Winter’s upset by the fact she’s not upset and has to figure out why her inner wolf is cool with this when she should, by all rights, be furious.

9) Dragonsbane - Mage Knight Winter hears tale of a dragon in the countryside that the local villages wish to see vanquished. Winter, however, has other plans.

10) Eye of the Beholder - Blinded and near death after a battle, Winter is rescued by the mysterious Yang and is nursed back to health despite her protests otherwise. (It’s a Medusa!AU.)

11) Fabled - Fable 3 AU where Princess Ruby and Princess Yang are forced to confront the fact that Queen Raven has lost her fucking mind, only to discover that fear drove the woman insane- a fear they must confront themselves.

12) Fields of Love - Farmer Yang offers a job and housing to apparent single mother Winter and her young daughter Penny. What starts as a kind gesture grows into something so much more.

13) Full Circle - Van Helsing (2004) AU, Winter and Weiss, amnesiacs employed by the church to handle all manner of unholy problems, are sent to discover what happened to King Taiyang. Along the way, they become wrapped up in a centuries spanning prophecy and a bloodline hanging in the balance.

14) High Bar, Low Blow - Yang owns a bar where the gimmick is that everyone’s an out of work actor and the staff is staging an ongoing drama on par with a soap opera to keep their customers coming back. Winter joins the staff and then things get a bit real.

15) Hoodlums and Hijinks - Robin Hood AU where Princess Winter and Princess Weiss are just as in favor for overthrowing the king as the group of bandits run by Ruby, Yang, and Blake. 

16) Last One 2: Electric Boogaloo (title subject to change) - a sequel to Last One where the haunt continues.

17) Lexical Access - Sequel to Tip of the Tongue, where Yang gives her girlfriend a bit of roleplaying payback.

18) Little Red - Carmen Sandiego AU where Ruby was kidnapped adopted by a group of thieves and raised to become the world’s greatest thief, but a chance meeting with Penny via a stolen phone opens her eyes to the wider world, and she meets the rebellious heiress Weiss, street smart Blake, and brawler Yang, creating a team that works to foil Ruby’s former friends while eluding capture by mysterious operatives with a somewhat familiar white color scheme...

19) Long Term Investment - Yang, a fae who lives in the woods, makes a deal with Princess Winter to save the Queen. The price? Winter’s firstborn. Winter misunderstands how she’s expected to get pregnant and Yang’s never actually intended to collect. Next thing Yang knows, Winter’s moving into the clearing beside her tree home.

20) Miscalculation - Another Omegaverse AU where Weiss is an omega and Blake and Yang are alphas, except Weiss lied and said she was an alpha when enrolling in Beacon and now she’s locked in a room with Blake and Yang on the verge of starting her heat. Sharing is caring.

21) More Than Words Can Say - Winter, rendered mute by a military accident early in her career, is honestly the best girlfriend Yang’s ever had. However, tonight’s the night they’ve decided to get intimate, and that includes showing some scars that they don’t show often. It’s less about sex and more about trust and intimacy.

22) Music of the Night - Phantom of the Opera AU where the mysterious, disfigured shade of the opera house, Weiss, finds herself at odds with the rich, jovial Yang in a competition for Blake’s heart. Then there’s Adam being a dick, too, and the opera house has never seen so much drama.

23) My Heart Will Go On - It’s the Titanic, but double the rich, unwilling-to-marry ladies and triple the won-a-ticket-to-a-ship ruffians. Penny’s there too; she, like Ruby, just really likes ships.

24) One Fucking Favor - Winter’s due for a long assignment and wants to make a sex tape for stress relief purposes. Yang doesn’t ask questions; she’s just the one with the camera. But then, Winter’s partner for the vid doesn’t show up. What’s Yang going to do about it?

25) Prophecy - Star Wars AU where Ruby, Yang, and Blake are trained as Jedi, Winter and Weiss are part of the clone army, and Ruby’s the chosen one. That’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, but Senator Salem is there to lend a helping hand...

26) Propositioned - Faunus experience bouts of heat; sometimes, they can safely ignore it and go about their lives, but every now and again, they really can’t. Concerned for Blake’s health as she’s skipped too many heats to be healthy, Yang sets up a partner for Blake’s heat. Blake’s not a fan but she does like the idea of banging Weiss Schnee.

27) Proven - ARK: Survival Evolved AU where Winter, after being ‘won’ by Yang, is taken into the bowels of the earth to learn how the underground tribes who inhabit the area survive in such an unforgiving environment. As she acclimates to the tribe’s ways, she finds herself carving out her own path, culminating in facing off against the Queen and proving herself worthy.

28) Reaping What You Sow - When Winter escaped to the countryside with Penny to start a farm, she knew she had her work cut out for her. In need of help and facing a harsh cold season, she hires Yang, a one armed drifter, to help her. The two end up needing the other more than they could’ve imagined.

29) Tear My Heart Open - Blake thought she understood how the world worked. As a member of the White Fang Gang, all she needed to do was keep everyone motivated to continue their ongoing street war against the police and authorities bent on keeping them down. But while running from the cops, she’s offered sanctuary in the home of one Weiss Schnee and her girlfriend, Yang. From there, her perception of the world is completely upended.

30) The Duel - After her father offered her hand in marriage to the winner of a tournament, Winter opted to assume a disguise and fight for the prize herself. In the final match, she faces Yang Xiao Long, a competitor she’s come to know quite well, and she finds her conviction to win wavering slightly. Is it enough to lose her the fight?

31) The Lies We Tell Ourselves - Weiss has made it; she’s opened her tattoo shop in Vale, well away from her father, and aside from a bad first impression with the florists across the parking lot, everything’s looking up for her- until her father finds her. Luckily, Blake’s been through some shit and doesn’t mind helping Weiss drive daddy dearest up the wall, even if it means letting her own parents think she’s dating Weiss. It’s not like either of them is going to catch feelings... unless...

32) The Princess’ Bride - After losing her fiancée to the dreaded White Fang Pirates, Yang vows to take to the sea herself and exact her revenge. Princess Weiss finds herself falling madly in love with Yang, who still loves Blake, and all this is thrown into even more chaos when Yang gets kidnapped and Blake comes back from the dead! 

33) Two for One - Yes, another Omegaverse AU. Five years after the fall of Beacon, Yang and Blake cross paths, each believing the other has spent the time keeping their mutual mate, Weiss, safe. When they realize Weiss is with neither of them, old wounds are torn open, but before they can resolve their dispute, Winter captures the both of them and hauls them to a remote part of Atlas where an SDC facility has been turned into a fortress. There, they find a mortally wounded Weiss clinging to life and raising twins daughters; she gives her mates until her death to endear themselves to their children, else the twins might opt to stay with Winter and be kept from Blake and Yang for good. Between learning about their kids, Blake and Yang navigate their complicated feelings and try to reconnect with Weiss, all while a sinister force gathers to destroy the fortress and steal the prize within.

34) Weaknesses - Loosely set in the Glamour AU, Yang is being forced to assume her mother’s position as leader of their vampire coven. Her fellow vamps disapprove of Yang’s werewolf girlfriend. Winter, of course, doesn’t care.

I got lazy and cut a bunch out. No, fuck you, I don’t have too many AUs, I will add more if I want. Also, some of these, the first chapter is posted on my Patreon. Don’t ask me which ones; I genuinely have no idea. I’m bad at this, y’all.

[sabraeal]

Age of Reason, Part 2

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2021 Supernatural AU

The looming wrought-iron glares down at him; even choked with briars, it stands as proud as any guard, denying him entrance with a glance. She’d gotten in, she said, and out again even quicker. It’s possible. He just has to find the way.

His shoulders twitch, unimpressed.There’s a reason he wears gloves.

One hand wraps around a twisted bar, and a briar pierces through the leather like it’s paper. He recoils with a hiss, and to his extreme displeasure, the needle comes with him, broken right off near the glove.

He’s had worse splinters-- hell, he’s had worse stabs, but the thing’s hard to find even with the moonlight behind him. His head and shoulders keep falling into the worst angle, casting shadows shadows no matter which way he turns, leaving him to work half blind as he tries to pull it out. It makes it worse of course, each movement of his muscles sends the thing dancing around his palm, probing deeper into his flesh until he tears it out.

These damned gloves are supposed to protect him, but blood coats them still, shimmering black in the moonlight. He gives them a real contemplative look, some real consideration, and then cusses a streak so blue fire would be jealous. Damn that woman. If she’d gotten in, she owes him the professional courtesy of telling him how. He has half a mind to stomp right back to that tavern and shake her till she spills her secrets.

He takes a breath, holds it. It’s fine. This is far from the worst job he’s ever done.

The thing slides across the packed dirt, sand and scree skittering beneath its bare skin. It’s a woman in shape, diaphanous nightrail clinging so scandalously to its curves that wives clap hands over wandering eyes. She would have been a pretty girl in life, but in her undeath, she makes more than a convincing monster.

He stands in the holy circle of the Heavenly Maiden, salt staining his hands, and it hisses at him, back arched like a cat’s. Red stains its front, dribbling from full lips down to soak her gown.

“Kurei!” The name catches on the wind, already torn away. The mayor clutches at his door, lifting a hand to point through his wards. “It’s her-- the demon--”

“I know.” It’s an effort to lift the words out of a deadpan. “She’s no match for me.”

The spirit cocks its head; he knows that angle too well, the one that says, oh you think so? He lifts his shoulders, a subtle shrug. No hard feelings.

Her claws clench in the dirt. Ah, he’ll pay for that little line later. Already he’s at a disadvantage-- a full moon might have shone through, but with a chunk shaved from one side he’s stuck waiting for the wind to hurry it all along while he stands here, stalling.

His breath mists in the night air. Just one of the hazards of the job.

“You’re trapped in here with me, spirit.” In the dark, its hair is coarse, thick and black, rippling with each breath. The perfect hand-hold, should it dare tread close enough. “Your fight is with me!”

He grins as it growls, edging around his circle of salt. It follows, mimicking his movements, it on all fours and him on the balls of his feet. Already his cheek stings-- its limbs are long and strong but he didn’t expect the elbow to be so sharp-- but he doesn’t lift a hand to rub at it. Each moment here is the space between victory and condemnation, and he has none of them to spare.

Finally, the clouds part.

“I have you, beast!” Around him, the circle flares to life, the pure light of the heavens infusing it, glowing with an intensity would blind to those outside it. “Tempus fugit! Sapere aude! Ad meliora!”

For a moment its body leaps into the air, lunging for him, trying to tear his throat, but in the next it’s thrown to the ground, as if grabbed by heaven’s hand itself. With his last words still echoing in the square, the spirit spasms, voice railing to an unholy keen.

“Erat ergo sum! Quid pro quo!” He calls out, shaking holy water over it, black and red spotting her as he washes away its monstrous desires. “Non ducor duco!”

It gives a single, great heave of its body, and suddenly she’s limp, no longer a vengeful spirit but a girl once more. A mere husk that once held life. Mist rises from the circle as he lifts her body, curling coolly around his fingers.

“Caveat.” The night carrying his voice further than any earthy words should-- “Emptor.”

The villagers all peer out their windows, the more daring of them peeking out doors. Now that the danger’s over, everyone wants to see the monster hunter and his prey. He’s heard plenty talk about the noble nature of man, but none of them know the truth-- when fear strips away all else, it’s only cowardice and curiosity that remain.

“Kurei,” creaks the mayor. “What--?”

“It’s over,” he announces. “I must bring the corpse away from here, and bury it.” With a dark look, he adds, “Alone.”

He turns his back on them, letting the moon burn away the mist he leaves behind.

The barmaid here is all curves, coarse tawny hair tumbling down her back, meant to draw the eye straight to her swinging hips. A tempting morsel; at least by the way the men here follow her with their gaze, hungry for more than ale. The barman must have tripled his profits having a girl like her on; there’s no limit to drink a man can have while he’s thirsting with his eyes.

But not Shuuka. His stare is fixed right across the table, brows drawn tight in thought. “That’s some story, mister.”

“And all true.” He waits until the man takes a good, long draught from his cup to add, “I earn my keep traveling, finding spirits to soothe and monsters to cull. Or maidens to save, when the situation demands it.”

“Just maidens?” The barmaid sidles up to him, a frothing mug in hand, and already his mouth is watering. “Or are you looking to expand your repertoire?”

He lets his lips lilt into a leer. “I’m willing to help with any problem that needs solving, maiden or--” he lets his gaze rake up her-- “otherwise. Provided I’m welcome.”

Her own mouth is a mirror of his own. “You seem the sort to always be finding doors open, if you don’t mind me saying, mister.”

“Ah.” He hums, leaning close. The other men in the pub lean in too, faces ripe with envy. “That’s the trick of it-- I wait to be asked.”

Amusement flickers through her eyes, as amber as his own. She sets the mug in front of him, its thick head sloshing over the rim. “Here you are, on the house.”

The maid casts one last, linger look over at him, all hooded. The sort that says he could find more than a drink on the house if he played his cards right. And here’s him, a man who never lost a hand.

“So that’s what brings you here?” Shuuka says, voice tight. Nerves, he thinks, the sort a rational man might have in the face of the unknown. “Sh-- the prince’s mistress?”

Ah, or maybe that’s guilt, he’s hearing. “So it’s true, then? There’s a girl sleeping in that manor house?”

Shuuka’s fingers clench, knuckles white where they lay on the table. “If it was...?”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, just waits.

Dark eyes lift, glimmering as they meet his. “You could do something about it?”

He lets his mouth ease, swallowing down the victory in his throat. “I can’t do anything that would hurt.”

For a long moment, Shuuka sits still. Not the sort that comes from fear or hope but indecision. A man on a precipice.

And oh, how easy it is to see when they jump. “What’s your name? What do they...” He hesitates, swallowing. “What do they call you?”

“Lots of things. Jack of all trades, for one,” he hums, settling back in his seat. “Monster Hunter. Miracle Man. Savior.”

Shuuka’s brow draws tight. “You’re some kind of...priest?”

“Oh, no.” He lets his eyes linger when the barmaid bends at the waist, leaning over the counter to talk to the barman. “Not that. But you can call me...Nanaki.”

There’s a tree.

He surveys the old gnarled grandfather, its thinning leaves rustling in the wind, a single branch hunched over the briars. He should have guessed; it wasn’t like she was going to get her hands dirty and bleeding to take a look at a dead girl.

His hands flex, the leather around them creaking. His palm aches when he presses it to the trunk-- that’ll teach him to get impatient-- but he knows how to climb without relying on his grip. It’s nothing to shimmy right up, soles planted solid on grandfather’s inquisitive arm. He’d call this sloppy-- nobles often were, thinking that guards and dogs and a lady’s scream could keep them safe-- but...

Ten years. Plenty of time for even a well-trimmed tree to insinuate an elbow where it didn’t belong. Especially one that looked as nosy as this old grandfather did.

He edges out, the branch solid beneath his feet. Each step is inquisitive; impatient he may be, but enough tumbles from too high had taught him the value of respecting nature’s limit. The last thing he needs is for this to break over one of those fleur-tipped spears. Career limiting, his old master used to tell him, followed by one of those hideous braying laughs.

Dead was his preference. He might make his money putting on a show, but it didn’t serve to forget that some finales were final.

The branch bows beneath his feet, those iron-tips scraping at its bottom. Looks like he’s ridden this particular pony as far as it’ll go. With a breath and a wish, he leapt from the tree, tumbling down, down--

His feet catch, hard earth beneath them. No, stone, since his foot slips, nearly spilling him straight into a knot of brambles. Pretty ones, at least, dripping with roses as bright as an apple’s skin.

He whistles, plucking a petal off one. “Well now,” he breathes, letting it flutter away in the wind. “Isn’t that lucky.”

Cat calls and wolf whistles cleave through the din when the barmaid wraps her fingers around his wrist, leading him away from the table. There’s glares too, envy making eyes dark as he passes. There will be men who hate him in the morning for no other reason than he had what they couldn’t. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last.

Fine by him, anyway. Angry men are easy to predict-- they only want to do what will cause the most pain. It’s the ones that cheer him on that are dangerous; they need to be courted, molded.

Shuuka is neither. Curious.

“Hey, hero,” the barmaid purrs, pressing her body against his. “Keep your eyes where they belong.”

By the swing of her hips, she means on her. Well, it’s certainly not a bad view.

She sashays up those last few steps, shoving him into a room--

Torou’s smile is gone the moment the latch catches. “You are on your own with this one. I am out.”

Leaving Oberwald takes an extra day; the villagers keep him plied with ale until he tumbles into bed. When he wakes while the sky’s still moonless and dark, two sets of hands rubbing down his chest. Who is he to deny himself a reward so justly earned?

Still, waiting makes the spirits restless.

“Serves you right,” he grouses, rubbing at the new lump dulling the sharp edge of his cheekbone. “You’re supposed to make it look good, not actually hit me!”

The spirit folds her arms across her chest-- or under it, rather, framing their best asset when it comes to fooling these bumpkins. A barmaid with big tits never fails to turn heads, and should someone get suspicious of the girl who disappears when the evil spirit does, well-- no one can pick her face from a crowd.

“Oh, complain, complain.” The huff she lets out doesn’t even have a hint of remorse. “I’m sure you got those village girls to kiss it all better.”

He can’t help his grin. “Two of ‘em.”

“Ugh.” Her eyes roll, the kohl still clinging to the corner of them. It’s the most stubborn part of the makeup, but Torou makes do; by the next town she’ll have wings drawn on so sharp they could cut a man’s throat. “How is it you get to bed down with every miss looking for a good time, but I can only look at all those strapping young farm boys?”

“Pitchforks. Torches,” he reminds her. “Us, running away in the middle of the night...”

No one remembers the barmaid, except for an angry wife. And they know how to drum up some bloody-minded friends once night falls. That’s another thing that makes the spirits angry, but well, that’s not his problem. Maybe if they were more circumspect, they could tumble a few village boys-- or girls-- if they liked.

“Fine,” she mutters, itching at her neck. Some red flakes off, falling to the dirt below, lost beneath the tread of their boots. “Where to next?”

He’d thought he’d been mulling it over still, but the second she asks, it’s the answer at the tip of his tongue. The only one.

“Nowhere that needs a drowned girl!” Torou warns him, pitch raising to one that would make dogs howl. “My ears still don’t feel right after the last one...”

“Clarines.”

She scuffs to a halt. “Clarines? The ‘realm of reason?’ That Clarines?”

He doesn’t stop, just shortens his stride as he puts a jaunty skip in his step. “The very same.”

Her steps start again, hurrying to keep pace with his. “Why? I thought they were enlightened out there. Above all this folk talk.”

“No one is, if we play them well enough.” He slides her a sly smile. “And we will.”

“Best of the best,” she agrees. “So what’s the score?”

His grin pulls wide. “I hope you have your kissing lips ready. We have a princess to awaken.”

His hands fly up between them, trying to ward off her waggling finger. She’s carrying five knives at minimum, but of all the weapons on her body, that finger scares him the most. “Torou, come on--”

“Don’t you ‘come on’ me, Nanaki.” She doesn’t need a steel when her tone’s already so pointed. “I’m not going back there, not even if you beg me. Not even if you drag me. I’ll gnaw off my own leg if you try.”

“Torou, what--?” She shifts, just enough for him to see the wide stretch of her eyes, pupils blown and white all around the rim. “Are you...scared?”

“Scared? Scared?” Torou laughs, wild. “I’m terrified. We’ve played a lot of games, but this, this-- this curse thing, it’s real.”

“Oh, c’mon,” he huffs, leaning against a bedpost. “You know that’s not true. We’ve been running this grift for how long now, and the only supernatural thing out there is how easily everyone will believe it.”

“Listen, that’s what I thought. That’s what I always thought, you know that.” Her voice trembles, shoulders hunching around her chest. “But I went there. I went right into that manor to case the joint-- I knew there’d be stuff in there, stuff we could sell and get out of this rat race.”

His jaw slackens. They’d never talked about that, about what could lie at the end of a real good grift, of what they would do if they had enough coin to stop. He hadn’t even known she’d wanted to, let alone that she--

“I went in there,” she murmurs, rounding into herself. “And someone-- someone screamed.”

He licks his lips, brain jittering with the thought of this ending, or having somewhere to stop. “Screamed?”

“Don’t laugh.” Torou’s voice barely wavers above a whisper. “Someone screamed, and I-- I went to find them. Maybe some kid got in there and broke a leg. I could get some credit you know, really get those bumpkins eating out of my palm. But I walked in and--” she chokes, fingers clawing at her throat-- “there was blood, so much blood, just covering the floor, and then--”

Her breath fills his ears, so harsh, so pained. He’s only heard her like this once, back before, and his blood runs cold.

“And then.” Her hand comes out to grip his wrist, drawing him into her terrified gaze. “It sounded like someone was dying.”

[hekatepoetryxxwriting]

Experimental Gothic Work, Piece One: The Wolves in the Woods

There be wolves in them woods.

Let that warning sit in the bones, be a belly ache in the small children huddled in bed, sheets pressed tight to their eyes as the candlelight dims.

Walpurgis Night, when the moon descends upon the patchwork houses and women of the skies join hands and dance upon The Brocken. The church doors close, they will not open again until spring brings its first bloom, the lamb bleats its first cry. Instead the priest shall fix his cross to the wall, shall watch it slip and fix accordingly until the Bald Mountains brush away their glacial caps and return to God’s Eye. He is blind on the Sabbath and can do naught but watch as the heretics fell upon the kirkyards and yes, my child, they will find grandma’s corpse, and feast upon it. Because that is what mother says witches do.

The villagers pray in the town square. Standing at the foot of an idol made of sticks and kindling, a wicker remnant of a time before God, even though the abbess claims this does not exist. God has existed since before time, she ‘educates’. The people nod, they don’t dare mention the honey cakes and ale they would gift to the Forest. An old woman strays from the flock to listen once more: there was a time the Forest would hum back.

The idol moves! No, not the idol, silly girl. The witch who stands upon the altar, her lungs as black as her heart. All witches have black hearts, mother says so, so it must be true. Mother learned this from her mother, a bloody lullaby she sings by the hearth, where the fire crackles and keeps the dark where it belongs. The fire purges, it reduces the girl upon the pyre to ashes. Her brother watches from the lawman’s cottage that he had visited for so many days before they came for the witchling. Her mother pleads with God to open His gates an inch, to allow her newly-bled daughter in. Don’t you know that your God has better things to do on such unholy nights?

When the clouds part the men shall gather up the bones and cast them into the dirt. Witches have no place in the kirkyard. Their bones crawl back up from the ground, a tasty treat for the neighbours dog.

A boy cries “Wolf!”. The men come running, they come with torches and axes. A boy would not lie. He cannot be tempted so, does not possess the hollow space between his belly and his flesh. Women are corrupted when the fruit is rotted, everyone knows that. They search, they find nothing. Perhaps the wolf was simply scared off. The boy bares his teeth and runs home. His next cry may be to warn of an animal with two-legs instead.

Before the night is over, a young woman must don her cloak to visit Grandma. The old lady is sick, she mumbles prayers and keeps her Bible beneath her pillow, though she cannot read. Reading is for the Devil’s Daughters. It is done under moonlight, hidden away from the civilised folk. The young woman knows better than to keep pages in her house. She is as good a Christian as her father has prayed she could be.

The forest is painted purple and orange, where the moon goddess guides the sun god into her, their blinding light splits the stars. For this one night, they are not enemies.

The girl walks into the forest alone anyways, ignores the hunters who insist on ‘keeping her company’. She has done this journey a dozen times, she tells them so.

But not tonight. They whisper it as she turns her back on the village. Who would dare wander on Walpurgis Night?

But she goes anyway, wrapped in white; her mother’s wedding cloak. It catches on branches, their pine-crested fingertips threaten to carry her from the path. Oh, but those wolves do howl so. It is like birdsong to her ears. She pauses to listen, opens her mouth to call back. No sound comes out.

She continues to Grandma’s house.

But Grandma has another visitor tonight. His arrival is announced by the wind battering against the old woman’s windows. She has drawn her curtains closed, kept her fire burning, done all the things her mother beat in her before going to the grave. It means nothing when you cannot read the book meant to protect you.

A knock at the door causes her cross to fall from its station.

Who is there? She calls.

Your most loving granddaughter, the mimic cries back. His voice is a stolen relic of some other young girl he has devoured months before. Claimed her heart and then her insides and only then had he swallowed her whole, taken her into him. Lycanthrope; the ability to shift, to transform, to adapt.

The wolf enters, dressed in man-skin and a sharp-toothed smile. Grandma can only clutch at the rosary around her neck, but this is not a demon, there is no salvation when the Forest comes howling at your door. Her skin is like leather but the flesh still tastes good, he delights in this, takes what is left and bundles it up and throws it on the fire, watches the hair spark like tinder.

The young girl arrives precisely on time. He smells her, scents the familiar odour of a girl teetering between girlhood and womanhood. The wolf-man adorns Grandma’s cap, curls up in her bed and hides his bloodied teeth behind full, pinkish lips.

The girl steps into the open door, drops her basket filled with warm cakes and cheeses, and breathes deeply. The faint smell of musk and iron lingers on her tongue. As if drawn by an instinct dwelling deep inside the pit of her soul, she nears the bed.

She exclaims “Oh my, Grandma - what big eyes you have!” Already, the wolf’s deceit fails him. Society has become an ocean when it was once a stone; he has not seen the world of man in quite some time. The power of the woman is to shift, to transform, to adapt. He flutters long lashes, watches the girl unlace her boots and perch upon the end of the bed.

“All the better to see you with.”

She inches closer, unbuttoning her coat. And then her blouse, and then reaches for her apron. Nimble hands make quick work of it, dropping it into a pile with the other garments. She reaches for his hand, grasps the large digits into her tiny fingers. His prints are calloused, rough against her skin like sandpaper. He pulls her closer, presses her hand to his lips, and licks. He has a cat’s tongue, the papillae sharp and spiny, prickling her skin.

The girl smirks, he may be the cat, but it is she who has the cream. “Oh my Grandma, what big ears you have!”

“All the better to hear you with, my dear.”

He listens to her heartbeat slow. Watches with dark eyes, pupils squeezed into slits, as she drops her skirt, and lifts one arm to undo the veil that covered her hair. Her hair falls naked, drops to her bare chest and hangs around her mother’s wedding cloak, the only clothing she has remaining.

She does not comment on the smell of burning, of the reek of scorched meat. She is not the trodden women of the village, with their heads wrapped in silk, hidden from men and from the world. Now she sits upon the lap of the wolf, who stares at her with pupils blown wide, ears open and perked. What little humanity he has, he is giving it to her freely.

Her final question becomes a request, spoken with understanding. “My oh my Grandma, what big teeth you have!”

And so he bares them, and she laughs. Then she stands, and allows him to sweep her from the floor and into his arms, the coarse, dark hair growing with each step to the door. Her wedding cloak becomes a waving flag in the wind as dawn breaks over the surface of the Forest.

Walpurgis Night comes to an end.

And the Hunter who would arrive later, who did not stop to question the footprints between the wolf’s claw marks. He lays a makeshift cross, and the village mourns. They mourn and then forget, returning to their bedtime stories for the young and naïve.

There be wolves in them woods. And somewhere, amongst the howls beseeching the night, was a woman’s cries of joy entering the chorus.

[badwriting-baddesicions]

TO DO

masterlist

ATEEZ:

Altar Boys Altered Boys (We’re The Thing Love Destroys) - WooSan

Aurora - 2Ho

Baby Baby You’re A Carmel Macchiato - San

Because I Met You I Draw A Bigger Picture - ATEEZ

(Don’t You Know I’m A) Boss That Leads You - WooSanSang

But You Won’t Do The Same - San

Dancing Like Butterfly Wings - WooSanSang

Do You Wanna Run Away Too? (All I Really Want Is You) - Hongjoong

Forever Fight As One - Seonghwa

I Will Become The Spring To Your Smiles - Mingi

Lonely Hearts - Mingi

Maybe You’ll Love Yourself (Like I Love You) - Hongjoong

Moments Like This - SanGi

One Day at a Time - ATEEZ

Pirate King - SeongJoong

Soon May The Wellerman Come -Yeosang

Spare Me What You Think (Tell Me A Lie) - SeongJoong

Star 1117 - SeongJoong

Sunrise - WooSanHwa

THANXX - ATEEZ

Think You’re Ready For The Monster Monster - JongSan

This Is Our Fate, I’m Yours - SanGi

Twilight - WooSan

Wave - YunGi

We Will Make This Love Together - San

Where’d You Wanna Go? How Much You Wanna Risk? - WooSanHwa

Wonderland - SanGi

(Roger That) Yes Sir I’ll Protect Them - Jongho

Your Red Lipstick - Wooyoung

You’re Not A Constant Star - SeongJoong

BIGBANG:

Monster - G-Dragon

We’re Classic Together (Like Egyptian Gold) - G-Dragon

BTS:

Agust D - Suga

Angel or Devil (What Should I Choose?) - Jimin

Best Years - TaeGiKook

Blood, Sweat & Tears - TaeJin

Don’t Leave - TaeGi

Dynamite - VMinKook

Euphoria - Jungkook

Filter - Jimin

Get The Ink, Get The Pen (Let’s Sign It) - J-Hope

Home - RM

How Did We End Up Here? - TaeGi

I Just Wanna Give You Love - VKook

I Want To Write You A Song - YoonKook

It’s Where My Demons Hide - BTS

Just One Day - YoonKook

Lights - TaeJin

Magic Shop - NamJin

Mikrokosmos -KookMin

My Feet Don’t Dance Like They Did With You - JinKook

My Heart’s Already Breaking (Go On Twist The Knife) - TaeGi

Play Pretend - Suga

Plz Don’t Be Sad - Suga

Pretty Words (On The Tip Of My Tongue) - VMinKook

Save ME - VKook

Speed Demon - VKook

That Should Be Me (Holding Your Hand) - YoonKook

The Truth Untold - Taegi

They Say Love Is Pain (Let’s Hurt Tonight) - V

Too Bad (But It’s Too Sweet) - V

We Are Bulletproof: The Eternal - BTS

Welcome To The House of Fun - TaeJin

What Can I Do? - VMin

Yo Ho Ahoy and Avast - KookMin

You and I (We Don’t Wanna Be Like Me) - VMinKook

Zero O’Clock - HopeKook

EXO:

2nd Grade (Maths Problems) - Baekhyun

Baby Don’t Cry - Chanyeol

Be Combative or Be Sweet Cherry Pie - BaekYeol

Blooming Day - Chen

Don’t Go - Tao

Heaven Knows I’m Falling (I Can Never Be The Same) - Kai

I Can’t Stand The Rain - XiuBaek

I Just Hit The Lotto - Kai

It Will Wet Your Wings - KaiBaek

Lost In Reality -Tao

Lotto - Lay

Moonlight - LuChen

My Answer - XiuChen

Peter Pan - Tao

Ring-a-Ring O Rosie (Whoever Gets The Closest) - Kai

She’s In A Long Black Coat Tonight - Chen

The Moonlight Fills Your Eyes - ChanKai

The One - Xiumin

Twenty Four - ChanKai

Unfair - Baekhyun

Wolf - Lay

GOT7:

I Wish I Was (Beside You) - Jackson

Just Right - BamBam

Miracle - Jinyoung

School Life (Again Today) - BamBam

Take A Sip From My Secret Potion - JB

(Remember All The Memories) The Fireflies and Make Believe - BamBam

HIGHLIGHT:

Prince Charming (Ridicule Is Nothing To Be Scared Of) - Gikwang

iKON:

I Feel So Right Doing The Wrong Thing - Bobby Monsta X: I Will Borrow The Skies - Jooheon. This Way, That Way, Forwards, Backwards (Over The Irish Sea) - Wonho

NCT:

All My Moments Want You - MarkHyuck

And I Still Want You - LuMark

Assemble - Lucas

Baby Don’t Like It - MarkHyuck

Baby Don’t Stop - Tae Ten

Baby We Two Distant Strangers - Yuta

Born To Be Wild - Haechan

BOSS - LuWoo

But My Heart Goes - Lucas

Candle Light - MarkSung

Can’t Even Talk, Still Stuttering - LuWoo

Complete - LuWin

Daisy Daisy (Give Me Your Answer Do) - Jaemin

Dance Around The Living Room (Lose Me In The Sight Of You) - JohnTenKun

Dear DREAM - NCT DREAM

Dream A Little Dream Of Me - LuWoo

Dream Glow - Yangyang

Drifting, Drifting, Drifting - Jungwoo

Everything Has Changed - Ten

Everything I Didn’t Say - NCT

Fireflies - NoMin

Fly Away With Me - MarkHyuck

Fool’s Gold - YuWinIl

Goodnight Sweetheart - Jeno

Grow Up - TaeTen

Hakuna Matata - LuWin

Hello Future - Renjun

Hold Me In Your Arms Tonight - MarkYong

Home - WayV

Howling At The Moon - JohnTen

Hugs and Kisses - Johnny

I Can’t Stop My Hand From Shaking - Jungwoo

(I’m Waking Up) I Feel It In My Bones - Taeyong

I Hate This After Dark - Mark

I Have Loved You Since We Were 18 - JaeYong

I Hear Them Coming For You - Jaemin

I Tend To Glow When You Are By My Side - NCT

I Want To Write You A Song - RenLe

If I Ask You If You Love Me (Lie To Me) - Jaemin

If I Could Fly - TaeTen

I’ll Be Right Here Beside You For Life - ChenJi

I’ll Be Your Genie - NoMin

I’ll Make This Feel Like Home - Shotaro

I’m A Wolf and You’re A Beauty - Jaehyun

I’m Giving Up On You (Say Something) - NoRenMin

I’ve Never Seen You In The Daylight - Jungwoo

Kick It - Taeyong

Killing Me - Yuta

La La Love - RenHyuck

Long Way Home - MarkHyuckWoo

Lost - Yangyang

Love Talk - TenWin

Lover of Mine - Winwin

Make A Wish - Shotaro

Misfit - Sungchan

Most Nights I Hardly Sleep When I’m Alone - Haechan

Music, Dance - Sungchan

My First and Last - MarkNo

My Flower - Haechan

My Heart Is Blind (But I Don’t Care) - MinSung

New Heroes - Ten

No Longer - Taeil

Not Alone - JohnMark

Of Guns and Roses - Renjun

Perche Tu Stasera Sei Perfetta Per Me - Mark

Punch - JohnJae

Puzzle Piece - NCT DREAM

Remember When I Broke You Down To Tears - RenMarkHyuck

Requiem - Jisung

Ridin - NoMinSung

Smooth Like A, Like A Snake - Doyoung

SOMEONE’S SOMEONE - Kun

Stop. Rewind. Turn Back Time - Winwin

Superhuman - YuMark

Take Off - LuWin

The Internet Is Great - TenWin

The Sun Will Shine Through - Ten

This Is Halloween - Taeyong

Till The Love Runs Out - Shotaro

TOUCH - MarkYong

Touch Me When The Sun Goes Down - NoRenMin

Wait For Me To Come Home - LuWooMark

Waited For Your Reply (Here In The Pouring Rain) - SungTaro

We Almost Rolled The Dice - Winwin

We Got That (Power) - Jaehyun

What Can I Do? - Jisung

Whatever It Take - JaeYong

WHO DO U LOVE? - YuWin

Wildflower - Haechan

With Great Power - Winwin

With You - Mark

You and I Go Hard At Each Other (Like We Going To War) - Chenle

You Are My Soulmate(s) - MarkHyuckHei

(This Is Our Sanctuary) You Are Safe With Me - ChenJi

You Became My Crown - MarkYong

You’ll Find Me In The Region Of The Summer Stars - Jaehyun

You’re My Everything - Kun

You’re The One I Want For Christmas - Xiaojun

You’re Unfair - TenWin

ONEUS:

Jingle Bells Jingle Bells Jingle All The Way - Hwanwoong

Princely Duties - Hwanwoong

Spooky Scary Skeletons - Ravn

Stay Oh (Baby Touch Me) - Hwanwoong

SEVENTEEN:

A Tiger Inside - SoonHoon

Call Call Call! - Hoshi

Extreme Musical Statues - JiGyu

Fallin Flower - JunHao

Fear - Meanie

Giving All My Secrets Away - MingSoon

Home - Dino

How Can I Love You? (If You Don’t Talk To Me) - SoonHoon

Hug - SoonHoon

I’m A Lost Boy - Woozi

Lay You Head On Me - Joshua

Love Letter - JiGyu

My My - Woozi

Smile Flower - Woozi

Snap Shoot - 2JiCheol

Splish Splash - Hoshi

Titanium - Meanie

SHINee:

Cafe Latte - Taemin

Good Evening - Onew

I Growl At You - Taemin

I Will Fight, I Will Fight For You - Taemin

Lucifer - JongTae

Our Page - Jonghyun

Witch - Taemin

SPEED:

Welcome To The Circus - Sungmin

Stray Kids:

A Sign of the Times - Felix

Astronaut - Bang Chan

Authorized Personnel Only (Back Door) - ChanLix

BEWARE - Bang Chan

Burger and Sandwich, Coffee and Tea - ChangLix

District 9 - Lee Know

Finders Keepers Losers Weepers - Bang Chan

I Need Someone - Seungmin

I Want To Breathe You In Like A Vapour - I.N

I’m Sorry (My Handwriting Isn’t Pretty) - ChangLix

Insomnia - ChanLix

I’ve Been To The Year 3000 - 2Chan

Levanter - Han

Little Steps - Han

My Side - Felix

Never Ending Story - JiLix

Please Baby Get Away From Me (I’m Poison) - Changbin

Spaces Between Us - Lee Know

The Story of My Life - 3RACHA

We’re Not Alright But I’ll Pretend - Felix

SuperM:

Better Days - KaiMark

Big Chance - TaemTen

(When I’m With You) Danger Seems Like A Good Thing - TaeKai

Even When I Lose I’m Winning - TaeKai

Please Excuse My Writing - TaemTen

The Only Heaven I’ll Be Sent To - KaiMark

Tiger Inside - SuperM

To You In The Distant Future - SuperM

Who Do You Love? (Is It Him or Me?) - KaiMark

Yeah Superhuman! - TaemTen

TXT:

0x1=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You) - Yeonjun

Blue Hour - Yeonjun Dubaddu Wari Wari - Taehyun

Flip It On Me Say I Think Too Much - Huening Kai I Know I Could Lie (But I’m Telling The Truth) - Taehyun I Know I Love You - Yeonjun I Know You Don’t Give Two Fucks - Beomgyu (Sorry) I’m An Antiromantic - TaeGyu I’m A Loser - Soobin Loving You Is A Losing Game - Yeonjun

Magic - TXT

Oh My God (He’s A Really Bad Boy) - Yeonjun PUMA - TXT

Run Away - Huening Kai

Running Down To The Riptide - Huening Kai Small Town Boy (In A Big Arcade) - YeonBin

VIXX:

Fantasy - Neo

Hyde - LR

On and On - Leo

Thank You For My Love - Leo

Series:

The Power Within - Baekyeol

1-MAMA 2-POWER 3-OVERDOSE 4-LUCKY ONE 5-MONSTER FINALE-OBSESSION

[endersketch]

Panther Teeth - A Darkiplier/Reader Fluff Fic

Here’s that fic I promiced, its not good and I wrote it at 3 am so I’m sorry.  You can read it here or on my Ao3

Sleep was already hard enough. If it weren’t from the racing thoughts, then it was the nightmares and disturbing dreams that grew from it. And lately, they had all been about Dark. Somehow.

Darkness, mostly always in darkness did the dreams start, I felt cold and empty. Or- in contrast I felt anxious and hot. Either way, I knew I had to run. Run until my legs give out and my lungs burn. Of course, that would never happen in dream land. But everything feels real when you believe it is. So I ran, I ran from an invisible enemy that seemed to always be on my tail. 

It was a wolf sometimes, sometimes a panther. It was always shadows and mist, not completely solid but the teeth.... the teeth were always solid, always gleaming white in the impossible darkness around me. These silver knives were the only thing I remember clear enough to really know what they were. It was terrifying. I could see clearly as I ran and ran and ran, running from something I didn’t even understand. 

I would wake in a cold sweat when they would pounce, presumably sinking their long, sharp daggers into my neck, my shoulders, my arms. A splitting pain would erupt through me and cause me to scream awake sometimes. Alone in almost darkness, in my own bed with the moon shining her silver light through the windows of the manor. 

Just like tonight, where I screamed awake for what felt like the hundred time. The full moon settled me for a moment, but the phantom pain of teeth in my neck still shook me to the core. I hugged myself under my covers, begging to slip back into a dreamless rest but fate was not kind. 

Instead there was a soft knock on my door, the first of months of staying in this house. I didn’t believe the sound at first, thinking it to be part of my imagination but it happened again. Three quick taps against the solid wood of my bedroom door. 

“Y-yeah?” I call out, sitting up just enough to look at the door from my bed. The door cracked open and a sliver of orange light flowed into my room. It was slightly comforting. But it was quickly covered by a body getting in the way, and Dark’s unmistakable head peeked into the room. 

I didn’t dislike Dark, not one bit. I admired his cunning, his control, his looks and the way he carried himself. But I’d always wanted to keep my distance. I didn’t know what would happen if I got too close to the demon of a man. What horrors I would face if I suddenly found myself between a bed and his teeth. 

“I heard you scream. Is everything alright?” He asked, soft and caring. A facade? I didn’t know and I was honestly too tired to care. 

“Yeah- I’m fine. Just a nightmare. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Nonsense, I was already awake.” I glance at the clock now illuminated by the light of the hallway. At 4 am? Likely, but I’d always had a suspicion that Dark never slept anyway. I shrugged, rolling over to the side of the bed closest to the doorway. 

“Well- I’m sorry to disturb you anyway.” He smiled, a small one really, but it was still a smile. One that sent a message of ‘I want something’ through me, but perhaps that was just the anxiety. 

“Nightmares are not kind, would you like some comfort?” A little too familiar but—

“Yes.” The word comes out of my mouth before I even have time to process it. The smile grows, and— 

Teeth. Tearing and ripping, blood dripping down his chin at the end when everything is still and it’s only the smell of iron and a lust for something feral. I shook, the shiver rocketing through me with ice and fire at the same time. 

But as quickly as it came, it went. Dark was closing the door softly with a click, and I can see that he’s wearing sweatpants and a simple black t-shirt. It was very very jarring from his usual black tie aesthetic. I guess even people like him deserved a moment to be comfortable and relax. 

I didn’t know what it was about him that made me feel different things as quickly as flipping a coin. Or why his teeth were so white. I’d heard several theories about the human mind, how they highlight things so clearly when you think you’re in danger. Like how people wake up and see eyes in the darkness, glowing. Only to find the next night they cannot see it in the same blinding color. But I expected it to go away at some point. 

Dark‘s foot falls are soft against the carpet of my room and it only takes him a moment to reach the bed. I scoot over silently to let him lie down, questioning why I feel comfortable with this after such a toxic and intrusive vision from just his smile. Perhaps I felt safe... or— rather I did feel safe with him around. 

He opted to stay on top of my comforter, even after much protest from me that he will be cold. But he insisted and opened his arms for me instead. I hesitated for a long while, which didn’t seem to bother Dark at all, and soon I accepted the odd display of affection and awkwardly snuggled up against his chest and torso. 

I decided he did make me feel safe, wrapped in blankets and darkness, strong arms and silver moonlight. Perhaps it was his imposing figure that would strike fear into demons, or his power that would destroy anything that came my way. And as I drifted back to a restful and dreamless sleep, I decided that it was the sharp and gleaming teeth, hiding behind a panther’s smile.

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

Hi Rex! Question:

Do you worry about Kali a lot when she gets very upset regarding things Ink and Jinx do at times? I mean, she almost lost it on them from that.

@demon-blood-youths

"Of course I worry about her. You do know how crazy both Ink and Jinx tends to be when it involves them. They are good friends I know..it's just some things they do tend to piss Kali off badly." He sweatdrops to sigh before looking ahead.

"Though, as her boyfriend I do everything in my power to help calm her down. Before she gets to that point. Even now, she is alright." he explains. "I mean, I would anything to help calm her down.......even if she asks me of something or to get something, I'll do it."

[amayamiyaki]

Artwork by @emilyisnursebaymax​

Characters/Pairing: Shisui x Sakura; eventual Uchiha x Sakura; Sasuke

Title: Bewitched [Part One]

Rating: General

Bewitched

The woods surrounding Konoha are beautiful in every sense of the word.

They lie friendly in the day, with their evergreen needles and their redwood trunks. But at night, they’re darkly ominous. The endearing chirrups of gold-winged sparrows are nonexistent, instead replaced with the trills of crickets and the rattle of cicadas. A low hanging fog settles in, swirling mischievously at Sakura’s feet, while pathetic streams of moonlight dapple through the thick canopy. It's so dark now that the pitiful flames of her lantern are nearly swallowed whole and the only thing keeping her from stumbling are the outstretched hands of the surrounding trees and the unsettling churning in her gut.

To step into the embrace of the woods so close to the witching hour, is to welcome darkness, because these woods are thieves. They rob visitors of their senses—blinds them in exchange for the ears of a wolf and the nose of a rat. Envelops them in a claustrophobic entanglement of shadows and susurring branches. And sometimes, if the woods feel impish enough, the woods take more than that.

Ignoring the anxiety constricting her chest, Sakura carefully reaches for the holster draped at her waist and pulls out her panflute. The woods grow hushed as the first notes of her song carries through the void. There are no more crickets, no more birds. Not even a whistle of wind. Only her footsteps and her melody. Her song is low, ominous like the entirety of the woods, with quivering down notes and eerie high ones, and to the untrained ear, it nearly sounds like true fairy music.

Sakura diverges from the rutted path, turning right then left; her cloak sways with her movements, its frayed ends dancing around her protectively. She can feel the dirt packing between her toes as each step sinks the soles of her feet into the earth, and while jagged roots bite into her skin, it's nothing she isn’t used to. And the deeper into the woods she goes, the more she feels like she’s being watched. Her cloak brushes against bodies that may or may not be there, shadows morph and wings flutter.

She can taste the mischief in the air.

Carefully adjusting her basket and lantern so they dangle from the crooks of her elbows, and with her grip on the flute tight, Sakura allows her free hand to float at her side as she walks. She caresses the outreaching brambles and low-hanging leaves in hopes that her touch will appease the woods’ growing apprehension of her, stopping only when the rocks and dirt make way for fairy rings.

Her melody soon lifts into a more tranquil tune as the woodland fae giggle and sing in approval. Their fairy music joins her own, accompanied by the fluttering of wings and the appearance of squirrels; she doesn’t look down as the fairies breach from the chests of their hosts, fully aware of the danger she’s now in.

Because as beautiful as fae folk are, they’re ten times as dangerous.

Carefully, as not to break her song, Sakura sets her basket and lantern down, exposing the blueberries and quartz she brought as offerings, while scanning the void for any signs of life. A crow watches her, its head jerking curiously as it observes her. Decayed leaves crumble beneath heavy paws. A thousand eyes weigh her down while a million whispers ghost her skin.

She plays on, ignoring the playful tugs to her rose tresses and to the scarlet threads of her cloak, and she doesn’t stop even as magic scents the air. It compresses, fluttering around her with moonlit glitter, kissing her knuckles as she plays. Splashes of watercolor and silk constellate her vision, making her nose twitch and her belly drop, but she refuses to fall to the fairies’ mischief.

It’s only when the flame from her lantern abruptly dies away that she ends her song. Her breath shakes but she doesn’t show her nerves; Sakura stands tall with her chin tilted high and her shoulders straight.

Because the woods has accepted her offering.

“I call upon the gift of air,” She begins, bringing her hands to float at her sides again. A trickle of air intertwines with her fingers. “Gusty winds and breezes fair.”

Sakura smiles to herself a little more confidently as the tails of her hair tickles at her nose, kicked up with the breath of wind that drew by. The leaves shudder overhead, scattering decayed slivers of orange and red amongst the void. She closes her eyes, and says loudly, “Carry this witch’s greeting across distant lands—take flight! A hearty welcome for a familiar, I invite.”

A crow squawks and a wolf howls; the wind picks up, making her cloak lash out with a ferality that comes with an angry fae but Sakura is not deterred.

She furrows her brows and huffs defiantly, brushing aside the amused songs of the surrounding fairies as she continues, “Fae of the forest, hear my plea. Come forth and seek me, and equals we will be. Not master to servant, but familiar to familiar. To protect and honor, always and forever.”

The woods are alive with the presence of fae folk. Gold eyes appear from across the void while fairies creep from the bodies of their birds and the bark of trees. But no one approaches. And in the blink of an eye, the woods becomes just that—woods. Just knobbed trunks and crickets.

The fae are gone. The wolves disappear. The crows are silent.

But Sakura waits. She waits and waits and waits until she can’t anymore and it infuriates her because she knows the spell was correct. The fae acknowledged it. They heard it, responded to it. So then why—

“To protect and honor, always and forever, huh?”

Sakura stiffens, startled at the sudden voice around her and tries to whirl around only to find herself frozen. Hands settle on her shoulders for a moment before one slowly drifts down her arms with a feathery lightness that evokes chills in their wake. It travels to her wrist, encircling it, keeping her just out of reach of the dagger at her hip while the other hand ghosts along the curve of her neck.

She tries to ignore the breath on the back of her neck and the overwhelming scent of caramel and Hellfire that envelops her. “To protect and honor,” She reiterates, calm despite the fear winding down her spine. “Always and forever.”

Whoever—or rather, whatever—is behind her hums. “Forever is a long time, Witch.”

Sakura swallows the lump building in her throat. "I'll have you for however long you'll have me."

His responding laugh and the way he drags his fingertips down to her wrists raises a garden of goosebumps along her arms, and it's not completely pleasant. He opens a hand, palm up just below her own while the other lifts a strand of hair. "Your name?"

Sakura smiles to herself, shoving aside the uneasy shiver that threatens to crawl down her spine. She knows their tricks. She can hear the mishief in his voice. To give her name is to welcome trouble, because who knows what the Fae will do with it?

And the way his hand hovers, waiting like the hand of an expectant child, he's not asking out of formality.

"You can't have my name," Sakura says. "But you may call me Sakura.

The Fae's chuckle is a warm one full of summer evenings and pine trees, thunderstorms and something dangerous. "Oh I like you," He laughs, brushing the pads of his fingers against her knuckles. "Then you may call me—"

He's interrupted by a loud snarl and the beating of approaching footsteps, but neither are human. Quickly, Sakura frees the dagger against her hip just as a large wolf jumps out at her, jaw unhinged and crimson eyes wild; but as quickly as she sees it, its gone, replaced by the heat of a body against her chest.

The snarl of the Fae enveloping her is otherworldly, feral—demonic—alighting Helfire all throughout her body, but it evokes a sort of comfort that Sakura can't say she's ever felt before.  She blinks, cautiously moving in the grasp of the Fae to chance a glance at him, only to find her view obscured by a wall of feathers.

Wings.

Entranced by the glossy feathers, Sakura tentatively reaches for them, carefully skirting her fingertips along the jade sheen.  The feathers sway, ruffling slightly at her touch, and piercing, scarlet eyes peek through so she pulls back as if burnt.

The wings lower slightly and the arm around her waist loosens, allowing Sakura a glimpse of fangs embedded into black cloth and blood on dark fur. The wolf's eyes meet hers, narrowing, and then there's a pained grunt as the beast's jaws tighten around the arm in its mouth.

"Sasuke," She hears. "Stop."

The wolf is reluctant, its hackles high and body vibrating with its rage, and it gives one last huff before releasing the Fae. Sakura feels him relax, and the softness of his touch compels her to mimic him.

"What the hell are you doing!?"

Gone is the wolf, replaced by a man—a man with skin like snow and hair like a raven's wings. His eyes are sharp, dark like a reflection of the deepest reaches of an underground cavern and sprinkled with red.  But what makes her breath still in her chest, are the horns that stand out atop his head. They're tall, curving down once before shooting straight up and spiked on the bend, with scales colored an iridescent shade of indigo that makes her think of a slick of oil. And they're adorned with silver bands.

A demon.

Sakura feels her blood turn to ice, not just at the way the demon spat her title, but at the weight of the older one’s stare landing upon her. Fae are dangerous on their own, but Demons are something in a league all their own.

And she had spoken her name to one.

"Are you stupid?” The Demon-Fae called Sasuke hisses. “Entertaining the call of a Witch?”

She can feel the bloodlust radiating from the enraged Demon-Fae and considers running.  She mulls over the incantations in her head—banishing spells, protection spells, binding spells—but ultimately, she finds herself rooted in place, pinned to her Fae’s chest by an arm and feathers.

“Is my baby cousin concerned about me?” He has the gall to tease. “How cute!”

Sakura pushes the feathers aside to look up at her Fae.  His expression is calm, with only the faintest down-turning of his brows hinting towards his irritation.  But his eyes, dark and murky, glow with mirth. He’s handsome, even more so than the Demon-Fae behind her, with strong features and moonlit skin; his hair falls in devious curls that part around his horns.

He has two sets of them—a testament to his age.  One set curves out, then in and up, nowhere near as high as the former’s; while the other set curls down and straight back, their points just barely peeking out from the angle he stands.  The shadows dull their color, unfortunately, but she can glimpse where the moonlight catches on the jewels draped along them.

And when he peers down at her, from beneath enviously long lashes, Sakura has to force herself to breathe.

Sasuke’s growl is predatory, so powerful that Sakura can feel it palpate in her chest. “Quit playing around!  You know that fraternizing with a,” He pauses, glancing in her direction with his nose scrunched in distaste. “Witch is asking for trouble.”

The Demon-Fae straightens, his shoulders stiffening and chin raising, and then wings that gleam with a hint of jade outstretch.  They spread so wide, they eclipse the moon and morph into the darkness between the trees.

“This Witch, Sasuke,” The Demon-Fae begins, and his hands come to rest at the base of Sakura’s neck and around her wrist. “Is under my protection.  For always and forever.”

[klildevil]

Not bl

Vinland saga

Hakuoki

Namaikizakari

Secretly c*mming during class

My blind date is a womanizing cop

Dear my living dead

Raise wa tanin ga li

Beware of the villainess

Uncle cool

Namaiki zakari

L-DK

Hapi Mari (happy marriage)

To your eternity

Bl

Dear door

The Titans bride

The last omegaverse

K’s secret

My suha

Camp buddy’s

Blood link

Egoism

Not a sugar daddy

Legal drug

Hidoku shinaide

Yarisugi party night

Behind the desk

Biting the tiger

Beware or demons

Private scandal

If you hate me so

An easy target

Down and dirty

Behind the scenes

May belongs to me

Sick

Pian pian

Sadistic beauty

Moonlight garden

An innocent sin

Ookami kun wa kowakunai

Angel buddy

Tied with twins

Theo

Bl motel

Make me bark

Shame application

Dance with the devil

Encircled love

I’m banging my rival from a parallel world

Omae no subete wo ubau made

30 sai Kara no coming out

Kedamono arashi

Shokkarr harassment

Blood bank

19 days

Smurfs world

Love or hate

Wolf in the house

Viewfinder

Incidentally living together

Kingyo no ubugoe

High school Lala love

Dakaretai otoko ichii ni odosarete imasu

Mellow pillow

Yakimochi wa kitsuneiro

Dear signal

Only the flower knows

I seriously can’t believe you

Sweet sport

Suns blood

Eyes speak more love than the mouth

Hatsukoi encounter

Body complex

The devil’s temptation

Boundary

Silent color

Too close

False memories

Take care of my house keeper

Aporia

Virus

Dan día long Zhong ba!

Sm gokko

The wolf king may not

Mr 100% perfect

Miss you, Lucifer

Anti P.T

Scandalous M

Hinkekure Sakura ni koi ga saku

Sadistic madness

Nindan da Shikoku de ninshin shita ore

Dating my way up

24 jikan ochi nai kiss

Nirameba koi

Ai to hanaji

Hoshi to harinezumi

Okusama wa alpha

2ban me no alpha

Deawanakereba yo Katta no

Oh my hero

The good teacher

How sweet is a sugar daddy

Heart of the red cloak

Paramour

Tale of the yellow dragon

The boy and the wolf

Samishigariya no love

Miwaku shikake amai wanna

Kijima-kun

Akai ito no shikkou yuuyo

Jazz for two

Never understand

My darling signed in

Shen Sheng

Star x fanboy

Let’s go asmr

Fools

We only held hands

In my closet

Salad dats

Inner beauty

Dream away

A trace of you

Sasaki to miyano

Haru mastu bokura

Ichirei shite, kiss

Madk

Kamisama no uroko

Kamisama no lutoori

Tree spirit

Awkward magic

Nanohana boys

Hyung you’re my idol

Banana fish

Garden of light (read after banana fish)

Zombie hide s3x!

Stare

The god of pains groom

Never understand

In these words

A prince in a luxurious mansion

Namaiki kareshi

Kanawanu koi no musubikata

Kirakira-kun to imaichi-kun

Nan hao Sheng feng

Vassalord

On doorstep

I’m yours blood and soul

Alice in adultland

Love shuttle

Keeper of the pearl

Marry me alpha

A week of lust

Fate makes no mistakes

Here you are

Butcher shop

Sailor danshi

Dre no ushiro ni tarsi na

Junai drop out

Toshi no hige otome -Chan

Sokuochi yarichin yankee

Megumi and tsugumi

Bouai friendship

Usagi-Chan doshikori moushiagemasu

Princess top

Don’t forget that I like you

A shoulder to cry on

Your heart in my hands

Keep holding on

For your love

Aoi haru akaiito

Kazoku ni narouyo

Ao ni naku

Kimi wa natsu no naka

Starting with a lie

Never good enough

Midnight rain

The key stone romantic combination

Ninth life love

Kashikomarimashita destiny

Bokura no negai

Mayonaka no oyatsu

Yume musubi koi musubi

Haru and vampire

Kyou Kara omega ni narimashita

Kanawanu koi no musubikata

Koi Nanak shitakunai

Sora to hará

Rumspringa no joukei

Kamisama no uroko

Vampire heart

Hyacinth

Caramel honey

Snail pond robber

Smells like green spirit

Ao no flag

Okashiratsuki

Oyasumi punpun

10 years that I loved you the most

Kings maker

The unfeeling me

Glen

Wild city

The last zombie

The part time  house keeper

Oku made furetemo Ii desu ka

Dirty vibration

Social cat

Therapy game

Boku no Omawarisan

Puppy love

Straight or not

Koubutsu wa ichiban saigo ni hara no naka

Kendamomo arashi (kiss me baby)

Ookami-kun wa kowakinai

Dress him up

Samishigariya no love letter

The good luck story of an unlucky guy

Tell me your wish

Kiraide isasete

Chew and swallow

Red candy

Lies like lies

Cupid ni rakurai

Koi wa etude

Chess and rawin

The man in the mirror

Can’t take my eyes off you

Voice of love

Kekkon shite kudasai!

Restless

He, him & us

Karasugaoka don’t be shy

Mihanada pectolite

Abarenbo honey

Ore to joushi no kakushikoto

Omae no koi wa ore no mono

Yagi to ookami no hatsujou jijou

Meeting him

I like you

My starry sky

Peach love

I am beautiful

Settia

Ordinary men

Fall for me

December rain

Maiden rose

Deri pocha

Bitsu na koi no seesaw game

Fukouchuu no shiawase

Otoshiana ni hamerarete

Well done

Playboy no ore ga onna ni saremashita

Welcome to the cafe of love

Addiction

Pervert hero and the #1 fan

What’s your name?

Shall we go surfing

Ice man

Yamada to shounen

Hoppe ni himawari

Till out lips touch

Bottomless swamp

My last love scenario

Himitsu ni shiro yoll

Suzume favorite

Bokura no shokutaku

Asatte ni kiss

Mr. A & Mr. B

Sflower

I’ll be waiting for you in 1999

Never good enough

Outsider communication

Bouai friendship

Mahoroba days

Shinkonsan!

Baka ni koi toka shoujiki muri ja ne?

Ore to aitsu no jikangai xx

You’re my favorite toy

Maria boy

Sugar my baby

Yagi to ookami no hatsujou jijou goat x wolf

Kedamono arashi

MADK

Castle Heaven

Warehouse

Dispar

Youth

To take an enemy’s heart

Re-season

Raising a bat

Totally captivated

A thousand cranes

Serene bird

[snow-pitch-grimm]

Boys In Love

Summary: Simon wears a pink eyeliner while Baz paints his nails glittery black. Simon likes to make flower arrangements while Baz paints demons.

Still, it doesn't mean they can't match in every way that matters

Note: This is supposed to be for the Pastel prompt but I very loosely followed. This is just an excuse to write two boys in love.

SIMON

I look in the mirror and adjust my curls, then I inspect my nails. They're pink and the polish is still impeccable.

Perfect.

There's a knock behind me and turn to see my mother standing at my door.

"Almost ready, love?" she asks

"Yeah," I say

"Feeling a little bold today," she says

I smile and look back in the mirror to inspect my face full of make-up, complete with light blue eyeliner and baby pink lipstick.

"Felt like that kind of day," I say

"Well," she says, "You look quite nice. I'm sure a certain someone will appreciate it,"

"He's very biased," I tell her but her words still make me feel giddy from happiness.

She gives me a knowing look.

"Well, Happy Valentines Day, love," she says, "Now let's hurry before you're late for school,"

"Okay Mum," I say, taking one last look in the mirror.

I do look lovely

BAZ

I watch myself in the mirror as I put on my choker. It's made of black leather and has a glittery butterfly in the middle.

It's also new.

I head downstairs to where I can hear my family getting their breakfast.

"Bazzy," Cry out the twins at once

"Octavia. Victoria. Good morning," I say, giving them both a kiss on the forehead

"Morning Mother," I say as I give a kiss to baby Collin

He only babbles in response

Daphne smiles and hands me pancakes with a heart made on top.

"Happy Valentines Day," says

"Thank you," I say, "Where are Father and Mordelia?"

"Mordelia's Valentines Day surprise," she tells me

"Ah," I say. That made sense

I'm on my second pancake when My father and Mordelia come in, arms full flowers, cards, and chocolate.

"Happy Valentines Day," She cries with all the energy of a six-year-old can muster.

We all get a chocolate heart each, one rose, and one card. Daphne gets a bouquet of nine roses from my Father. Some old traditions I never asked about.

My father finally notices the shocker and raises an eyebrow.

"Is that new?" he asks

I nod.

"Did I pay for it?"

"Two of them actually, I bought Niall one too," I say, "Don't worry I didn't go over my monthly limit,"

Father had a monthly limit set out for me. Something about learning money management.

"Well, it looks nice," he says

I smile, remembering the first time I had tried on the getup I was wearing right now. His eyes had pretty much fallen out of his head.

"Are you looking pretty for Simon?" asks Mordelia, "Show me,"

I get up to do a spin for her, showing off my black jeans, combat boots, and my dress-like shirt with fishnet sleeves.

"I'm looking pretty for me," I tell her, "And if Simon appreciates it, it's just an added bonus,"

She just hums in response and goes back to her pancakes.

"Are you doing anything with Simon tonight?" Daphne asks

"We're going to a festival after school," I tell her, "I'll be home a few hours before dinner,"

"Lovely," she says, "You should go before you're late,"

I nod, drinking up the last of my tea.

Grabbing my keys, I head out of the door.

SIMON

Penny is waiting for me at the steps of the school, her purple hair twisted in a messy bun.

"Well, looks like Agatha's lessons really worked. Your make-up looks amazing,"

"Oh thanks," I say, "I got up early to do it,"

"Putting in the extra effort on Valentine's Day, " she teases

"I also did my make-up on my birthday, Penny, and for Christmas," I say

"Fair point," she says, "Oh look, Baz is here,"

I turn around and sure enough. Baz just pulled up in the parking lot.

I watch him as he gets out of his car, right along with Dev and Niall.

He looks as beautiful as ever. Even from here I can tell his mascara is making his eyes pop. He has purple lipstick on and I can see his muscle through his sleeves.

God, I love his arms.

He looks up and his eyes lock with mine. I nearly melt when he smiles at me.

God, he's beautiful.

"You are so gone on him," says Penny, "Go, I'm gonna go find Shep,"

I nod and make my way down the stairs.

BAZ

My breath catches in my throat as I spot Simon.

He's the epitome of beauty as he walks toward me.

Behind me, I can hear Dev and Bial snickering about me being lovesick.

But I don't care.

My boyfriend is wonderfully lovely.

"Hi, Baz," he says, with a blinding smile, "Happy Valentine's Day,"

"Happy valentine's day, Darling," I say, pulling him in, "You look beautiful,"

He blushes and is about to respond when someone clears their throat behind us.

Right. Dev and Niall. Forgot about them.

"What do you two want?" I snarl at them

"It's impolite to snog in front of your best friends," says Niall with an impish grin

I'm about to retort but Simon lets out a chuckle, slipping his hand into mine.

"Sorry guys," he says, "You guys have a ride for after school, right? We're going to go to the festival right after your football practice,"

Dev and Nial instantly smile, and I swear I can see hearts in their eyes. Yeah, Simon has that effect on people.

"Yeah," says Niall, "My mum's picking us up,"

"Good," he says as we turn to leave, "Oh and Dev, I like your nails,"

Dev smiles and says thanks.

I pout, "My nails are painted the same way,"

He smiles, "I was just being nice Baz. I always like your nails best. Cause they're yours,"

My heart melts.

I have a lovely boyfriend.

SIMON

We don't have morning classes together but I do get to see him at lunch.

It's Valentine's Day so we planned on having lunch together, just the two of us.

I make my way to the music room and find him in there, sitting on the carpet and, for once, not practicing his violin. Instead, he's drawing.

"Hey," I say, "What's that?"

He smiles and turns the sketchbook. It's a drawing of wolf demon feeding on a deer in the moonlight.

It's both beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

"Wonderfully done," I tell him

And I mean it. I might not understand the subject matter, just like he doesn't understand my obsession with flowers (I work at Ebb's shop. I love it) but he has a wonderful talent.

"Come sit," he says, patting the space beside him

I sit down and we take out our lunch. Halfway through, he laces our hands together (he's left-handed).

I look down and observe them. Mine are pale with nails done in pink. He has brown skin, with a skull ring and his nails a sparkling black.

They look lovely together.

BAZ

After school is our football breakfast.

I have to take off my make-up for that. I don't usually wear a lot. Just a bit of mascara. Sometimes some lip gloss and eyeliner but I still have to take if off if I want to avoid it running down my face.

Simon is watching me as I run around the field.

I'm not ashamed to admit, I show off a little whenever he's watching.

Dev and Niall always tease me about it.

As if they're any better. Niall once walked into a wall after his crush smiled at him.

After practice, and after I've showered, I find Simon in front of the locker room waiting for me.

He smiles at me and holds out his hand.

"Ready?"

I smile back and take it. I always want to smile around him.

We walk back to my car and when I get there, he pulls out the make-up bag I keep in my car.

"Can I?" he asks

I nod.

He takes out some mascara and lipgloss and applies it to me gently (Gentle. He's always so gentle with me)

He also pulls out some eyeliner, his this time. It's purple.

"Do you mind?" he asks again

"If you think it'll look good..." It might as well be permission

"It will," he says.

I look in the mirror when I'm done. He was right, I do look good.

SIMON

After I' done his make-up, Baz pulls the car out of the lot and we're on the road.

Its a pretty day, and there's minimal traffic. I keep the windows down and watch the air make Baz's hair fly around while I hold his hand.

BAZ

Simon holds my hand as I drive.

I know he would hold my hand all the time if I asked me to.

The knowledge makes me feel warm.

SIMON

We start with the rides.

We whoop on the fast ones and snog on the Ferris wheel.

Later, Baz buys me cotton candy.

BAZ

I hate cotton candy but Simon loves. I don't get it. It's just sugar.

We get some more snacks and afterwards, Simon tugs me to the games.

I try to tell him they're rigged but he insists.

"I'm gonna win you something!"

And what do you know, he does end up winning me something.

A plush cat as big as my pillow.

"Thank you, Simon," I tell him

I end up buying him a heart-shaped cushion later.

SIMON

Baz gives me a long kiss when he drops me off to my house.

My mum is waiting for me and she smiles when she sees me.

"Nice look she says," I look in the mirror and sure enough, my lips tik is smeared.

"Well," I say, blushing a little, "I had fun. He got met this,"

She looks at the heart and grins.

"He's a lovely boyfriend,"

"He really is," I tell her

BAZ

I step inside and am instantly greeted by my sisters, all asking me questions about my date.

Where do a six-year-old and two four-year-olds even get these questions? I honestly don't know.

Daphne finally comes along and saves me from them.

"Hello, Baz," she says with a mischievous smile, "Your hair is looking great,"

I look in the mirror at our entrance and I see that it's sticking in a few different directions.

Ah, yes. Simon likes to tug at it.

"What can I say?" I tell her with a cheeky smile, "I had a wonderful time,"

"So it seems," she says, "I'm glad,"

"Thank you, Mother,"

SIMON

We're lying in the sitting room after dinner. Mum is speaking to my Grandmother on the phone and I'm looking at new flower arrangements to try.

I find one particular one that makes me smile.

I screenshot it and sent it to Baz.

Something to have at our wedding!

If nothing else it'll amuse him.

BAZ

"How come you didn't go out tonight?" Ias k my parents once my siblings have been put to bed.

They look at each other and Daphne smile, "When you're been together for as we have sometimes, it's nice to just stay. It makes the adventures a lot more fun if they're rare. Anyway, big fancy Valentine's Day dinners aren't my thing. I have all the love I need right here, in this house,"

It's a nice sentiment and I wonder if Simon and I will be that kind of married couple one day. Happy to spend the night sipping wine in each other's company.

My phone rings and I pick it up to see who it is.

Simon has sent me a picture. It's a bouquet with bright pink flowers and black lilies.

The caption makes me grin wide.

"What's got you smiling like that?" asks my father

"Oh, nothing. Simon just sent me the centrepieces we're going to have at our wedding,"

Daphne looks up alarmed while my father chokes on his drink.

"Don't worry," I tell them, after letting them stew a little, "It's not happening for another ten years,"

I have never seen my father look so relieved.

SIMON/BAZ

I love him so much.

[sootcloak]

Crow’s Shadow: Carrion Circle

Second part of a short serial installment I’m working on as a general exercise on plotting, editing and the like. You can find the other parts linked here - {Part One: Repair Required} - I’ll add the last link once Part Three is up. Same spoiler warnings as Part One apply. Same general content warnings apply.

~2400 words, featuring Hilda the Mongrel and Rostnthal the Reborn. Centered around a tense cross country trip, and the looming specter of a dangerous foe. Twelve help me I’d hoped I could fit more of the plot into this one the last part is gonna be so long, such a pain to edit.

A cold, mountain spring cuts through the highlands. The water runs babbling over old, long-smooth stones. Along its bank, a cart is still. A pair of chocobos sleep, curled in on one another. Bright yellow feathers pool starkly against the grey and white of the highland’s snow-covered earth.

The campfire, dim and growing colder by the minute, pops and sizzles in the moonlit dark. Every few moments, the earth rumbles with a heavy snore from deep in Rostnthal’s chest. The old Sea Wolf is leaned up against the back of one of the birds, a canvas sheet thrown over both he and the chocobo. Hilda lies beneath the cart itself, nestled up in a tight ball of quilts and jackets.

In the back of the cart, Vavara rifles through the packed supplies. She loads specially marked shells into her revolver. It’s reflective white metal glints in the moonlight. It has a mirror shine in the dead of night, it’s engravings doing little to break up the perfect polish she’s maintained. It is a slow process, painstaking with just one hand. The cartridges hum and vibrate in their chambers, the ether concentrate within nervously singing to her heightened hearing.

Six shots in each cylinder.

If he’s there, it’ll take at least fifteen of these to break his barrier. Even with aether-charged rounds, the inadequacy of her armaments hangs over her. Missing an arm means choosing between her spear and a firearm. Damaged as she is, she might not even have enough aether at her disposal to ignite the spearblade.The core nested between her lungs is pressed cold and stark against her heart, like a long-dull knife. Her soul, nestled within it’s crystal depths, aches from long-faded scars. Her whole body would be a treasure trove for him, secrets to decipher, power to steal. Weapons to wield.

Even then, measured against his life - her secrets, her safety, all things are cast into the pot.

--

She loads a spare cylinder with slow, committed strokes. It’ll take a long time to reload the weapon, even with this preparation.. She didn’t pick this hand, but she’ll play it till the cards are on the table. Folding was never an option, anyways.

Light falls on the small camp, the morning sun casting light into the narrow crevice beneath the cart. Hilda wakes up with a yawn. Her arms stretch across the dirt, eyes squeezed shut. She growls softly deep in her chest, and sits up. Her forehead slams into the wood with an audible crunch.

“Seven hells-” She snarls.

“Gyahah!” Rostnthal’s laughter echoes over the small glade, watching with a gleaming eye as she clutches her forehead.

“‘Ey, Ashenheart! I won! Ye’ owe me a drink when we get back!” His grin is audible, a chuckle reverberating in his voice.

“I never agreed to playing your game.” Vavara says. “Besides, I owe you more than a drink if we all return safely.”

“Heh. Humorless. What with ye’ hangin with the Scions lately, thought you may’ve lightened up some. Guess even they can’t get ye’ out’a that shell.” His voice is no less mirthful, seemingly unfazed by her chilled tone.

“A’ight, come get yer food. Breakfast’s done.” He slaps the side of the kettle, ringing loud and full. Still groaning and clutching a bloodied face, Hilda drops into a cross-legged sit besides Rostnthal.

They goad and poke at one another, the words fading into white noise as Vara sits atop the cart.Her eyes’ light dims, old, ash-soaked memories rising from the shadows of memory. A wave of nauseating nostalgia hits her in the gut.

“You not eating?” Hilda prods Vara with an empty bowl. The old, smoke-scented memories submerge into the dark again. 

“Not right now. I had hardtack before you two were up.” She pushes herself up to her feet, her arm stretching, slight shoulders squaring for a moment under the winter overcoat.

“I’ll get the birds ready while you two eat. We need to move soon.” Her footsteps crunch in the snow as she walks away. A hanging tension in the air slowly seeps into the air as she walks away.

“Y’know,” Rostnthal calls out, voice low and rumbling. “Ye’ still haven’t told us where we’re goin’. Or anything else of substance, really.”

“Yes,” She says as she hoists the barding onto one of the birds. She glances over her shoulder, eyes dimly glowing with an unnatural, cold light in the shadow of the brim of her cap. “I am aware.” The words are biting, dismissive.

“D’ye intend for us to go into whatever trouble is brewing blind?” His tone is calm and grim, his one, good eye locked on hers.

“I do.” She returns his gaze, ironclad.

“An’ if that means things get bloodier than they ‘ad to?”

“It won’t. I can’t protect you on the battlefield. Not in my condition.” She turns away, leading the chocobos to the cart’s front. She clips their barding in, the ‘coos’ and ‘kwehs’ of the birds giving her occasional pause to double check her work.

“So you won’t be there.” She says without turning. “I’ll be leaving you and the birds out of danger. When my student finds you, you’ll take him to Dragonhead.” 

“Wait, what?” Hilda pauses halfway between bites, eyes narrowing. “I came out here to help, not to be a damned taxi. You’re not traipsing off on your own, ‘specially not after all your talk about this fucker who’s hunting you.”

“You want to help?” Vara’s grip on the wood tightens, words turning venomous. “Then I’ve told you how. You want to die? Then go on, follow me after we part ways.”

“Oh, that’s rich.” Hilda’s tone sours, “What’s your deal? We went over this on our first day out, and now half a week in you’re changing your tune? We know it’s dangerous, we get it.”

She sets her half-finished meal aside, standing up. Her hands come to rest on her hips, Rostnthal’s eye moving to rest on her.

“We signed on for this. We knew it’d get bloody, we knew it’d be a close thing. Y’think we’ve not learned to read you? That we were blind to what we were getting into?” She says, defiantly staring down at Vavara.

“So you’re going to ride in and save the day? Vanquish the bad man with your shiny gun and sporty marksmanship? You think you have what it takes to stand against  a man who’s decided he’d rather be a demon?” Vavara takes a deep, steadying breath. There’s something about the question which makes Rostnthal’s hairs stiffen. The skin on the back of his arms and back prickles. He’s still watching Hilda, a blooming anxiousness slowly taking up more space in his chest. He pushes the feeling down.

“Wouldn’t have stepped up if I didn’t think I could help” Hilda says, “An’ I may not be some vaunted champion of the realm like those you’ve been keepin’ the company of, but I-”

“You sound like a child. Too busy playing hero to see the danger you’re in.” Vavara’s chiding words cut through her momentum.

“What do you believe you are wagering? Your life? That in failure, you would die?” Her laugh is a single, wrenching cough. “This isn’t a battle of life and death. I’d sooner shoot myself in the head than allow any of those ‘vaunted champions’ to face him. Even the Warrior of Light, no especially the Warrior of Light.

“He does not kill. He captures. And those he captures become another one of the Empire’s experimental weapons. You would not die, you would become a monster to be sicked on your allies, your friends, and your loved ones.

“So I will face him alone. And you two will ensure an innocent boy does not become a monster because my past came to call. And if after hearing that, you still want to be the hero? Fine. You can be like all the others before you and die like one, too.” Her voice nearly chokes at the end. Shoulders tense, she pushes out a hoarse, whistling breath.

“I’ll do what I do best. Survive. And whatever I have to do to make sure he gets through this too? I’ll pay that price. Worry about yourself.”

“Vavara.” Rostnthal says, leaning in. “What’s so important about this kid that yer so concerned about ‘im getting captured.”

“Nothing. He’s just-” She begins, only for him to hold up one hand to silence her.

“Ye’ never go this far ‘just because’. I’ve seen ye’ in the ‘eat of battle. Cuttin losses ‘as never been somethin’ yer averse to. Even with lives. So if this kid is a hazard to himself more than anyone else, I reckon ye’d try and save him, sure. But to be willin’ to train and tutor a complete greenhorn, let alone throw yerself into the fire for ‘im?? Doesn’t add up.”

He waits. His eye locked on her back, her greying, braided hair shifting with a breeze. Hilda glances between the two, silence bubbling and steaming with tension.

“He is Blessed.” She speaks with a hushed admission, her voice accompanied by an undercurrent of choked, hissing metal.

“And from my observations, he has an aptitude for its power rarely seen. But he is young, foolhardy. I took him in because he otherwise would have found the Scions. And I refuse to see them make another martyr.” She glances back to the other two, over her good shoulder.

“His power will invite controversy and challenge, especially if he cannot wield it. And should Llain capture him, the prospect of an anti-eikon weapon imbued with the power of the Echo is a looming threat I cannot risk. If he can wield the Echo, if he learns how to use it to reinforce his sense of self and being, then he would retain his sanity through any kind of augmentation. Any kind of torment.” Her hand reaches up and rests flat against her chest, claw-tipped fingers scraping against the cloth and leather of her coat. 

“His soul could reside in even steel and crystal, and be unharmed by the process. But if he is captured before he learns to understand and wield the Echo, he could well become a weapon of terrifying power. An incarnation of death made manifest in steel and ceruleum.”

“I refuse to be the mother of death.” She says, softly, almost-inaudibly.

Rostnthal opens his mouth to speak, but the glare he receives from her in return stifles him for a moment.

“None of that changes what you must do. I trust you enough to determine your own path, if you will not heed my warnings. I will tell you what you need to know, even if it is not all you want to know.”

“No, it does change what we need to do. Whether you think so or not.” Hilda says, her confidence returning.

“That kid. What’s his name?” She asks, eyes fixed on Vavara’s.

“Tahve’ir.”

“Well, he’s going to need a teacher still, by your tone. So getting him out isn’t enough. I’ve got to make sure you both get out.”

“And if you can’t?” Vavara says as the two share a long, grim stare.

“Then I get him out, and come back for you. You said he doesn’t kill, and I doubt he can make it back to Garlemald in a single night. So, we get Tahve’ir out, and if you get caught in the meantime, I’ll run back and get you out in the night.”

“Nah.” Rostnthal’s voice rumbles softly, quietly. “Ye’ ain’t got experience with that kinda work. I’ve ran with the yellow jackets and the like, bustin’ slave rings and smashin’ smugglin’ ops. If she gets caught and we have to pull out, I’ll go. An’ you’ll take the kid.” He looks towards Hilda, a confident spark in his eye.

“Alright. Best not mess it up, y’old drunkard.” Hilda says, she cocks a nervous grin and playfully jabs his arm. He just chuckles grimly.

“So you won’t heed my warnings.” Vavara’s voice is distant, a kind of shrill, haunting whistle riding under the injured voice. “It always happens like this.”

“Chin up.” He says, crossing the distance between himself and her in a few steps. He drops to one knee, and rests one hand on her shoulder. He grips her softly, confidently.

“I’m not ignorin’ what ye’ said. We can’t win in a direct fight? Then we’ll just have to run ‘im ‘round the bush. Keep ‘im guessin’. Keep ‘im dazed. We’ll work on strategies on the way there.” He takes a deep breath, and then stands. He climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Have faith.” He says, patting the birds with a solid, steady palm. “‘Ave faith, an’ all will be well. Besides. Yer not meant t’look so glum. Doesn’t suit yer’ image. Times like these, a snarl’s better.”

She just takes a deep breath, steadies herself, and nods.

She jumps up into the back of the cart as Hilda finishes dumping the last bits of the kettle, and scooping her bowl back up into one hand. The dinnerware sack lands in the back with a cataclysmic, chaotic crash.

As soon as her boots are fixed upon the wood, Rostnthal whips the reins and the birds kick up dust as they run.

--

The sun sinks back low in the sky again. Pale-red light streaks across the untamed mountains between Ishgard and Ala Mhigo.

A small shack with a sprawling, chaotic garden sits on a low, narrow plateau. Heavy, metal boots scratch into the wet, snow-melt fed earth. A man with sandy skin, a straight back and strong shoulders stands at the edge of the homestead. His hair is neatly, painstakingly pulled into a long, salt and pepper braid. It rests on his armored pauldrons, and hangs down to his waist. His eyes, a gilded, ember orange, take in the small, humble abode.

In one hand, he holds a thick, angular blade. It’s gunmetal edge reflects no light, despite the bright morning. Coarse and rough, like a painted, sharp thorn of ink clutched tight.

In the other, he holds a stark, shining revolver. It’s pearly white metal casts myriad colors onto the ground around him, and up onto his own blackened platemail. 

In the light of dusk, his aura shines bright and ethereal around him. Dancing, half-there reflections in intangible glass.

He takes a deep breath, and cracks a cheery grin His shadow stretches over the gardens in the evening light. He can smell the faintest hint of ceruleum in the air.

“Finally. Progress.” His smile is all teeth and ambition.

[whatscallion]

rise: ch. x

//- A Medieval AU based on some Marvel parallels that follows Natalia Romanova in her rise to divinity.

Chapter Summary: The God Widow and Father Zemo finally meet.

Chapter Word Count: 1,298

Previous Chapters: Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven - Eight - Nine

Tagging: @cptsteven @blackberrywidow​ ( message / ask to get tagged! )

Snow fell in delicate cadance, prey to the faintest breeze sifting through dead timber and cold stone alike. Behemoths manmade drew forth a stoicism strong enough to silence the valley in its entirety, lacking the mirth of cowardice and yet blossoming with stubborn survival. In the silence, tension brewed in sickly sweet strands, slithering through cracked granite and forged steel. Brittle grew the nature of unease, fragile in its existence as the inevitable began its terrible march forward, and with it came the baptism of purity. Innocence was to follow in the wake of the cleansing, yet there was far too much stained upon the territory. Beneath its guarded rule, an unlikely shadow was allowed to thrive, growing in strength until the light pushed against it. But by then, it had been far too late to snuff out malice. The faults of man were quick to bite at the righteous, ripping apart the divine with jaws made of charred bones and squandered dreams.

It was within these beasts that an imbalance created impurity to drive untouched snow to nothing more than soiled slush, incapable of anything more than inconvenience of nostalgia. For only hours, the wicked could be forgotten in the soft silence of falling snow, padding each noise the denizens created - a groan, a laugh, a shriek. These were all muffled to nothingness in the foreboding void of the oncoming winter, and yet it was not the season’s change that drew the hollow inhabitants of Gothamite back into their ramshackle homes, snuffing out the candles to feign their combined absence.

The city was quick to turn from thriving to deserted overnight as whispers carried the heaviest of rumors upon the lightest tongues. A war was ruthlessly waged throughout the lands, and it was soon to fall upon them, leaving the paths and structures to the mercy of a wrathful god. A battlefield fit for both the faithful and holy set the stage for violence and death, as it is wont to do with each clashing belief voiced through the lungs of the fortuitous. In His name, fury was granted justification while He wept tears of regret, having long ago expected so much more from those created in His supposed image. These were his corrupt creations, free will acting as demons perched upon their shoulders and opportunities grew nearly impossible to ignore in temptation.

On chilled winds, the lone raven flew in uncharted course across the twilight sky, it’s stark call echoing through the empty corridors. Only the ghosts of old meandered their way through the once lively streets, but the animal’s presence did little to spark worry among those who were vigilant despite fear’s slow seeping through mind and spirit. From their posts, the men’s once calloused eyes were now tinged in terror, conveyed with each glance taken towards the movement of another. Anticipation grew and grew, fueled by what was surely waiting just beyond the eye’s sight.

These Instruments were nothing more than lesser versions of those long ago dispatched from His world. They would be judged unscrupulously by transcendent moving through the clouds of sin with what was described as a demon’s delight. A scant few were always left to cling to breath, for the reputation spreading like the plague would allow for an easier battle. Even the most brave could cower at the most colorful of depictions of his enemy.

The call of the raven hid the whisper of the arrows as they bit through the air. Crimson splayed in beautiful displays of death’s deliverance, but the subtle hand would only be granted a few moments of efficiency. It was not in the open that the trail was blazed, leaving imposters of her trade filled with fatal regret in following their shepherd to their shared demise. Their shrouded Father led his lambs to slaughter without a glance back at the bodies caught in their own mortal coil. It was shown through the hours leading to the witching’s own that Father Zemo’s flock was as expendable as they would’ve argued against.

They were more than that to him - he had exploited the faith easily obtained through blind faith to have his own Instruments believe this. These were his children, and yet they acted as nothing more than a tribulation - an inconvenience to those willing to oppose him. Each fallen lamb granted a sliver of hope in his favor, though ego abound would leave him convinced of his perceived victory over a reaper born from the ranks he had only wished to be part of.

Father Zemo was more than familiar with the Demon Widow’s tactics of old, having been one of the few to uphold standards ruthlessly in order to erase the abomination of her existence. A pox upon the pristine nature of The Order, and he had attempted to rid her of life in the same manner she now perpetuated so easily to those who should be her brothers.

She strayed from the flock, this wolf hidden beneath the guise of one of their own.

And now, with teeth brandished, she carried forth retribution with a stunning streak of prolific mortality.

Specks of tacky crimson dried to obsidian upon the visage of the wolf as silent steps carried her forward in a calculated gait. The pitiful opposition had been shown the face of merciless determination before the universe bled from their eyes, mouths agape in slack awe. The souls taken grew with each brandishing of steel in the moonlight, now glinting in silver and tar as the grip remained taut as ever, unencumbered by the efforts before.

The temple erected during the height of Saint Johann’s worship held the same subtlety as a gold coin among tarnished buttons, polished in reverence for a false idol. Though easily entered, it would leave others easily hidden just beyond the ornate facade in dual meaning. Meant for profound devotion while hiding the antipathy cleverly in plain view. Those eagerly blind were quick to devour the filigree in choked hymns while the corrupt bled them of their vitality.

Heavy doors barely cracked open, allowing the shadow of a demon to slip into the soft like of numerous candles. There was quiet honor in the presence of flames - a homage to the burned remnants still barely standing in Rifthelm.

“You’ve come, dear sister,” a voice bellowed forth with no discernable body attached. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Words stayed behind the Widow’s teeth as careful steps upon lush rugs held her steadfastly alert to the surroundings despite the indifferent and casual slack in honed muscles. Speeches were meant as distractions, having paid witness to the feat far too many times to ignore.

Long-winded natures were always an advantage to both sides of the same coin.

“I think you’ll find, God Widow, that I will not be so easily destroyed like our late Saint. There is so much more to The Order than you were allowed to believe.”

Walls shook in unknown tremors, bringing the unknown to perk the ears enough to bring momentary distraction.

It was all Father Zemo needed in his moment of gaining the upperhand.

But like all prideful beings, it did not last in the face of genuity.

Forgive me, My Holiness. I knew not what stood before me, only what I left behind. In these days of new, I have been consumed by all that you warned me against. I repent in your name.

No.

I repent in her name.

Forgive me, Mother. I knew not my troubled ways. I know mercy only by your blade.

Forgive me, Mother, as I lay with your name on my lips, painted in mine own blood spilt by your hand. Baptise me againt in peace in moment's end.

Release me anew. Send your flock to safety, Mother.

Forgive me.