#watching supernatural. i am able to form memories now

[tiktaalic]

Sure supernatural is “bad” but looking back it. Very well Might have been part of kickstarting me out of my covid dread anxiety oh god we all have to kill ourselves forming-no-memories fugue state.

[virtualreader]

broken hearts and healing souls

deanwinchesterxfem!reader

summary: carrying the ruins of the broken heart the death of his father had left behind, Dean pushes you away, fearing hurting you as well. or perhaps he’s just scared of being hurt himself, one more time.

word count: 3,3k. (does not include lyrics)

warnings: alleged age gap, fierce anger, heated argument, drinking out of spite, supressed feelings, cursing, yelling, not the happiest end, and lots and lots of angst.

part 2

a/n: i started watching supernatural about a month ago and I'm loving it so far. and god, i couldn't help but fall truly, madly, deeply in love with dean winchester. this scenario came to my mind while listening someone to stay - vancouver sleep clinic, so this one shot is based on this song. feedback is always appreciated. please, comment if you think I should write a part 2 to this one!

"You can't boss me around, Dean! I'm not a child anymore!" you barked at the hunter standing by the motel room's door.

"I can't? Watch me!" Dean retorted, breathing heavily and extending his arms upward to appear bigger. "As the eldest here, it's my call to make the hard decisions. And I've decided that you won't come on any more hunts, end of story. You're risking your life out there—it's dangerous, y/n. What's not clear about that?!"

You and Dean had been arguing for a while. He came into the motel room the three of you—Sam, Dean and yourself—were forced to share, stringently declaring you were not allowed to go with them on hunts anymore.

After the previous mission ended with you being kidnapped by the demon you were after and tied to a chair in an old building's basement, the oldest brother wasted no time in making a decision. Despite your eagerness to rid the world of evil, Dean prioritized your safety, even if you didn't see it that way.

Dean Winchester was an undaunted and confident man, he had been since his mother died, he had to be, for his family's sake, for his own sake. Yet, when it came to you, potential bad outcomes constantly assaulted his mind. He could not afford to lose another loved one, so he did not take a gamble.

"It is my life that I am endangering, so I strongly believe that I get to choose whether I want to expose myself to hunting hazards or not. You are not my dad and cannot give me orders, Winchester!" you declared, raising your voice with anger and trembling as you pointed your index finger at him.

You were hurt and confused. Hunting had been your life for as long as you could remember and now he was taking that away from you. You tried to plead your case, but he had already made up his mind.

In response to your defiance, Dean raised his chin, pursed his lips, and clenched his jaw. Yet, even in his anger, he maintained steady eye contact with you. It was clear he was not going to back down easily.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he queried exasperated. “That demon back there, could have killed you, and you know that. This is not some inoffensive deer we’re going after.”

He was undoubtedly referring to the incident that happened earlier that day, when he was able to free you from the grasp of the demon. It was the same demon that mercilessly took your father’s life, leaving you fatherless at the tender age of twelve and subsequently placed under the care of the Winchesters.

Growing up with them, you learned to navigate the dangerous world of hunting and the supernatural. From hours-long road trips and campfires to cozy movie-evenings and pancake Sundays, your memories with your new family included a wide variety of experiences that left a lasting impact on you.

The bond you formed with the Winchesters was one built on mutual respect and a shared purpose, making them more than just your guardians; they were your family, and you were theirs.

"God, what a pig-headed dude you are," you muttered, oozing frustration, as you let out a peeved sigh. "So you, old man, can risk being killed by these heartless creatures, but I can't? Is it just because I'm younger than you guys? ‘Cause I already told you, I am as much of an adult as you are.”

Clearly, you would not be swayed by Dean's demands. You were your own person, with your own will and your own desires. You were determined to stand up for yourself and live your life on your own terms.

He took a moment to observe your bruised appearance as he pondered his answer. The blood that had previously emerged from the wound above your eyebrow was already dry, while the cut on your lip was still struggling to form a scab.

He noticed the swelling around your left eye, a tell-tale sign of the force of the blow that had landed on your face. And as he looked at you, he could not help but feel responsible for your emaciated state.

"If you're such an adult, you'll be fine on your own. You don't need me, do you?" the hunter sassed back, towering over you, tilting his head and upturning his brows.

Dean's words hurt you deeply, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. But you refused to let him see you cry. You straightened your back and met his gaze with a fierce determination.

"Do you want me to leave?” you said, your voice shaking a little. “Fine. If that's what you want, I'll leave. But don't expect me to come back."

You walked past him, feeling his eyes on your back. You didn't turn around, didn't give in to the urge to look at him again. You needed to be strong, to show him that you could make it on your own. But deep down, you knew that you didn't want to be alone. You needed Dean, more than you wanted to admit.

"Hey, girl!" you called out to the waitress, raising your voice above the noise of the tavern to get her attention. "Can I get a refill, please?”

You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Too lost and hurting to carry your load We all need someone to hold

As you waited for your drink, you couldn't help but replay the argument with Dean in your mind. You felt hurt and betrayed by his words. You were mad at him for not understanding your desire to be by his side, no matter the risks.

You were lost in thought when a voice snapped you out of your reverie.

"Rough night?" inquired a gold-haired man as he took a seat on the adjoining stool.

The man seemed to be a bit younger than Dean, possibly in his mid-twenties, closer to your own age. He wore a white crewneck t-shirt that hugged his muscular arms around the biceps, and his dark slim fit jeans matched the black pattern printed on his shirt's front.

It was difficult to determine whether it was the effect of the second-rate alcohol or your personal taste in men, but it was safe to say he was far from unattractive and he was, in fact, quite handsome.

"You could say so." you answered his question with a touch of apathy but still flashed a slight smile his way.

You've been fighting the memory, all on your own Nothing worsens, nothing grows I know how it feels being by yourself in the rain We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

The man took a slow, deliberate sip from his beer bottle and leaned back, his eyes fixed intently on you. His gaze seemed to linger for a moment, as if he were trying to gauge your reaction to what he had just said.

"You know," he said, his voice low and suggestive, "I can make it better for you, pretty."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks at the man's brazen suggestion, and you couldn't help but feel a little intrigued by his offer.

You glanced around the dimly lit tavern, taking in the smoky air and the clinking of glasses. It was the kind of place where people came to drown their sorrows and forget about the troubles of the day-to-day life. And in that moment, you couldn't help but feel like you were just another lost soul adrift in the sea of humanity.

The man's eyes were still fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be waiting for your response, as if he knew that his offer had the power to change the course of your night��or maybe even your life.

You took a deep breath and met his gaze head-on, feeling a sense of daring that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

The man smiled, a slow, confident grin that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Let's just say that I know a thing or two about making a woman feel good," he replied, his voice dripping with innuendo.

It was abundantly clear what his intentions were at this point in time, and to be entirely candid, it did not annoy you at all.

You eagerly accepted the charming man's alluring offer. And with a sense of anticipation, you followed him out of the sleazy bar, seeking shelter from the gentle patter of the light rain under the protective eaves.

As you walked alongside him, you found yourself captivated by his confident stride and the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light emanating from the street lamps.

You could feel his hand slowly making its way towards your hip, until it rested there, just barely grazing the upper part of your buttocks. This subtle touch sent a sparkling feeling coursing through your body, starting from the core and reaching all the way up to your chest. It created a warm whirlwind of expectancy, causing your heart to beat faster in anticipation.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice asked, a hint of pain in it.

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day you were helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

Dean narrowed his eyes, anguishedly taking in the sight in front of him.

As you stood there, drenched from the rain and your mind clouded by the alcohol, Dean's sudden appearance caught you off guard. He was directly facing you, his eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the pain and anger etched upon his features.

"What the hell are you doing here, y/n?" Dean asked incredulously, his voice laced with anger and hurt. “And who the fuck is that jerk?”

You froze, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. You had been so caught up in your own emotions that you hadn't even considered how your actions might affect Dean.

You've drunk it down and you've spat it out And nothing tastes like the things you had So tear it off, why don't you let them go? We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

"I didn't know she was taken, mate. I didn't mean to meddle in your relationship," the guy standing next to you apologized, his voice trembling as Dean's contempting gaze threatened to pierce his soul. Green eyes—usually a symbol of grace—had never held such a look of hatred. “She’s all yours, mate.”

Once the man marched back into the tavern, with tail between legs, the hunter’s emerald orbs landed on you. And as he beamed down at you, you noticed how much woe his gaze held. He wasn’t someone to let his emotions surface, not at all, that would leave his feelings too exposed, too unguarded.

He didn't seem to mind the rain dribbling over his leather jacket or his well-styled hair as he approached you. Although you had a defiant demeanor, you took a step backward in response, and your back met the wall covered in graffiti.

“Thought you said ‘I’d be fine on my own’.” you tried to sound confident as you quoted him, yet the alcohol running through your veins caused your words to slur together.

"Yeah, I said on your own! Not with some opportunistic macho man!" he said, referring to your previous companion.

He looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and anger, his eyes scanning your face as if he was trying to find some kind of explanation for what he was seeing.

And then, his anger boiled over, and he let out a shout that echoed through the empty streets. "No way. Are you fucking drunk?!" he yelled. "Are you nuts?!"

The force of his outburst hit you like a physical blow, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You had never seen Dean like this before, and it was clear that he was at his breaking point.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other in silence, the rain pouring down around you like a curtain. And then, slowly, you began to speak, your words tumbling out of you in a jumbled mess.

"You're one to talk. You, my dear friend, are the very reason I'm here, drinking my sorrows away." you scoffed at him.

Your eyes darted around, looking at anything but Dean. You felt intimidated—what with Dean’s tall figure and the disappointment you could discern in his expression.

“Drinking won’t solve anything, y/n. You know better than this.”

"Do I really?” you uttered, struggling to keep at bay your wobbly lip. “Last time I checked, I was just a kid to you.”

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

As the rain continued to fall, the rhythmic clattering of the water drops mixed with the sound of cars cruising over the wet pavement, creating an overwhelming melody.

The droplets seemed to grow in size and force. You welcomed the heavier rain, grateful for the way it obscured the tears that threatened to overflow from your eyes.

You knew that if he saw you crying, he would only see you as weak and immature, even more than he already saw you. You had always been strong and independent, and you didn't want him to think any less of you.

So you stood there, letting the rain soak into your clothes and hair, hoping that it would wash away the pain and sorrow you felt inside.

“I don’t think of you as a kid. I just prefer you staying away from those creatures. You know better than anyone what that demon is capable of. It killed your father, and you could’ve died today too, y/n!”

“Do not act like you care! And do not dare mentioning my dad ever again! You are too self-centered to take others’ needs into account.”

With a trembling voice, you lashed out at Dean, your emotions running high and your patience wearing thin. You couldn't stand the way Dean tried to control your life, always telling you what to do and what not to do.

You had grown up fast in the world of hunting, learning to fend for yourself and to take care of others. You had seen things that most people couldn't even imagine, and you had faced danger and death head-on. You were not some delicate flower that needed to be protected at all costs.

And yet, Dean seemed to think otherwise. He was always trying to shield you from harm, even if it meant keeping you from doing what you loved most.

"Do you even hear yourself, Dean?" you continued, your voice rising with every word. "You act like you're the only one who knows what's best for me. You don't trust me to make my own decisions, although I've been hunting just as long as you have. You're so wrapped up in your own fears and insecurities that you can't see how much you're hurting me."

"You're part of my family now, and as such, I must protect you," Dean declared, helplessness building up inside his chest. "Why do you find it so hard to understand?”

You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Hear the falling and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? The end of the day and we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me?

“I-…Just…leave me alone. Please, Dean.”

And it was then when, acting on your most primitive impulses, you took off, walking away from Dean with no determined destination.

It was not that you were afraid of Dean, no, you had spent too many years among the Winchesters to know he would never voluntarily hurt you, at least not physically. You found him sort of intimidating, more like it.

It was well known among the Winchesters' acquaintances that Dean, although not often, could become livid if you pressed the right buttons. And no one would ever want that fatal rage to be directed at them, unless they wanted to know what hell felt like.

However, the emotion the hunter was feeling now was not anger. It was something else, something both mysterious and intriguing. Although his muscles remained tight, his eyes shone with unshed tears, and a pinched expression was plastered on his face.

You fought against the urge to turn back and run into his embrace, to apologize to him and leave this dispute behind. It was a struggle to hold onto your never-so-fragile pride when your love for him had never felt as powerful as it did now. Not since you had first fallen in love with him, at least, back when you were a silly, naive teenager.

A hand grabbed firmly onto your arm, forcing you into a halt. You did not have the courage to turn around and face him with a trail of tears cascading over your cheeks, even if the drizzling rain disguised it somewhat. There was no need for that, however, when he began speaking, not waiting for you to look at him.

"I'm sorry, y/n," he apologized in a small voice, unaccustomed to saying such words. "I didn't mean to push you away. I... I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you. I'm scared, y/n. Scared of losing you like I lost my father, like I lost my mother," Dean confessed, his voice softening, dropping in pitch.

You turned to look at him, really look at him, and saw the pain and fear written in his face.

You felt a lump form in your throat at the raw emotion in Dean's words. You had always known that he cared about you, but you had never realized just how much you meant to him.

"Dean," you said, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his arm. "I'm not going to die. I'm strong, and I know how to take care of myself. But I need you to trust me. I need you to let me make my own decisions, even if it means taking risks sometimes."

You stopped, taking a big deep breath before continuing.

“What you said back at the motel, it hurt me, a lot. I have nothing left, Dean. My family is dead, I have no place to stay, no job, no nothing. I’ve lost everything.”

“You have me.” He took a step towards you, getting closer, and caressed your feathery cheek with his large hand. “You always have and always will have me.”

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

Dean wiped away a tear from your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin softly. "I'm sorry for pushing you away, y/n. I was just so afraid of losing you. But I promise, from now on, I'll trust you to make your own decisions. We'll face everything together, as a team."

A turmoil of heartfelt emotions whirled its way down to your very core as Dean's words sank in. And, as you looked up at him, you saw the love and devotion in his eyes, and you felt grateful like never before to the Winchesters for taking you in.

Seizing the proximity, you took a moment to admire him. The softness on his eyes only adding to his already perfectly alluring features. The green orbs standing out his face had never shone as bright, and his nose glowed as red as his eyes, probably from the cold air of the drizzly night.

Yet the part you spent the longest time observing was his lips. Sultry pouty lips, that rested slightly parted.

And as if in a dream, he leaned in intertwining his lips with yours in a genuine kiss. Sliding the hand that previously laid on your cheek to the back of your neck, bringing you nearer to his own body.

His grip was both firm and steady, but no less gentle, just so as if he never wanted to let go of you. Your movements kept in step with each other's, as your mouths melted in a much-needed dance.

None of you cared about the rain soaking your clothes or the idling engine of the precious impala of Dean’s, nor about the small crowd by the tavern’s entrance looking at you. You were in a deep immersion into the depths of the moment, and all you saw, all you could regard was the man in front of you - the man you’ve always loved.

The idyllic moment was short-lived, much to your dismay, as Dean pulled away and apprehensively took a step backwards. But the pain you felt then was nothing compared to the stabbing sensation in your heart when he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I'm sorry. This was a mistake."

part 2

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

“This is the greatest day of my life. I can’t believe this is happening. Do you know how few people have done this? You used to have to be royalty to even know about their existence.”

“I am royalty,” Ulyssa remarked, entertained by her excitable little brother. “And as you always remind me, your greatest day is a three way tie between your wedding and the birth of your kids.”

The Durant siblings stood outside an otherwise unremarkable house in a less expensive part of Pleasantview. The house was small; the modest frame was expanded with the use of shipping containers. Pleasantview wasn’t known for a low cost of living, especially with a nobility and attention seeking witches to support. Estates were common in the areas surrounding the old castle and old ruins filled with lingering magical energy was where most witches chose to dwell. The “ordinary” people were scattered across the country, far enough away from the rich or powerful areas to be noticed by most of society. Naturally, if someone or something wanted to keep a low profile, this neighbourhood was an excellent choice. Everything on the street was quaint and charming. Well manicured lawns and carefully maintained wooden fences were everywhere.

Ulyssa had questions and concerns that could only be answered by a trip to Pleasantview, but wasn’t brave enough to go alone. Luckily, her little brother Jorah seemed to know a little bit about everything and had jumped at the chance to accompany his sister on an adventure. What she had overheard Claudia tell her wife was concerning. Not only did Claudia know about Georgiana’s paternity, but her only heir to the most powerful throne in the world was a Bellamy.

She could blackmail Roman or Wanda with her daughter, potentially harming Arkhelios. She could expose Georgiana and ruin my life- our lives.

They had all agreed that Georgiana would be Maura’s daughter when Ulyssa discovered that she was pregnant. If her daughter ever found out the truth, it would be devastating. Ulyssa needed some dirt on Claudia if she was going to keep her family safe. Something that she could use as a bargaining chip. If Claudia was going to threaten her family, then Ulyssa was going after Claudia’s. The only problem with that plan was that no one had really seen her family. Her own government listed her parents as dead, but also as unnaturally able to produce three children and stop by the castle on occasion. King Ewan and Princess Anneken were undead creatures who stayed in the shadows, flitting between life and death as easily as a demon.

“You know what I mean,” Jorah scoffed, refusing to let his sister ruin this moment for him. “No one has seen a reaper in recent memory, or if they have, no one will admit to it. They used to be legends and myths and now they’re real! Well, I mean they were always real, but they’re not hiding anymore. Well, I guess they are still hiding, but these ones aren’t. How did you manage to track them down anyway? Did you have to watch someone die and then trap whoever showed up? Did someone who had a near death experience point them out? No, I bet it was a dark spell that required a blood sacrifice to get the information.”

“I looked in Maura’s address book,” Ulyssa sighed. “You let your imagination wander far too much. Her grandmother had their address and it got compiled in Maura’s copy when she took the throne. Why on earth would I have to do any of that other nonsense?”

Jorah pouted, despite his excitement. There were times when his sister’s bluntness overshadowed her kindness. Living in a castle hadn’t made Ulyssa any less cynical, she just usually hid it better. Only Ulyssa could make meeting one of the rarest supernatural creatures into something mundane.

“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe, just maybe, you can only find a grim reaper when it’s doing its job?” he shot back. “They blend in otherwise. Maybe they have a dark form like vampires and demons that you can only see when it’s reaping souls. It makes sense to me.”

Ulyssa took a moment to reflect on her brother’s ideas. Truthfully, she didn’t know much about the grim reaper or any of his associates, but Jorah didn’t need to know that. Reapers had been just a footnote in their magical studies class at school as little was actually known about them. Jorah loved reading about the supernatural and world history, but books could only tell him so much. According to some ancient texts and some mysterious undated writings, the academic community had mostly agreed that there was one “Grim” reaper that assisted a sim with the process of dying, and a handful of lesser reapers that assisted him in this task. No living soul had insight beyond that, or if they did, they weren’t sharing that information.

The first glimpse of this secret supernatural hierarchy had come from Crystal Cove centuries ago when it was still known as Viper Isle. Reports of people seeing glimpses of deceased sims running around in robes and cloaks just before someone died were recorded in the history books, even if they weren’t taken seriously. A former king had seen his dead brother on a battlefield and spoken with him. This was chalked up to the king’s history of mental illness, even when his son confirmed the story. The next sighting was during the Great Demon War where palace staff claimed to see the recently murdered crown prince of the newly named Blue Viper Isle. When humans defeated the demons intent on expanding their territory beyond the Void, there were whispers about secret meetings held by the queen and long deceased members of the community. The demonic ruler of Strangetown was seen arguing with a man that no one had seen age and had demonstrated mysterious powers through his long lifespan. Strange children enrolled in school and were picked up at the end of the day by people who looked oddly familiar to dead sims. Sometimes these children would display unusual powers of their own but remained tight-lipped on where they’d inherited them.

Over the centuries, these accounts were assumed to be myth. Reaper sightings dropped and the creatures were considered about as real as a unicorn. They were a fantasy cobbled together to help the people endure hardships by imagining a world where their lost loved ones could return to them. Supposed sightings happened every few decades, though few found them credible. It was said that the ruler of a nation was sometimes warned by a reaper of a great peril they could intervene in, though no royal diary had ever recorded such a case.

That was until Queen Claudia had taken the throne. Born Claudia Goldman, the queen had grown up in this humble house with her two loving parents and her little brother, Oliver. To the outside observer, the Goldmans looked like a typical commoner family. That couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Anna Goldman had been born Princess Anneken Spencer Toyonaga, the crown princess of Twikkii Island and Strangetown. Her husband had been born King Ewan Ben Goldman Siew, the infant ruler of Pleasantview upon his father’s death. Both of them had died incredibly young, Anna as a toddler and Ewan as an infant. Their families had mourned and the line of succession moved on.

Until the day that Claudia and Oliver Goldman were enrolled at the Princess Zarah Royal Academy, their tuition paid for by the queen of Twikkii Island and her ex-husband, the former crown prince of Strangetown. Both children were listed as their grandchildren, even though neither supposed grandparent could list which of their children had created these mysterious grandkids. Pleasantview was ruled by Queen Charlotte II at the time, a ruler installed by a foreign government who hated living in Pleasantview and who was hated by Pleasantview in return. The nobility had salivated to learn that a blood descendant of the last “true” bloodline existed and upon turning eighteen, Claudia completed the first and only peaceful transfer of power in Pleasantview’s history. Claudia Goldman became Queen Claudia Anneken Maricourt Goldman Goss overnight and once again, the living world brushed against the world of the dead for a fleeting moment. Reapers had to be accepted as real creatures to somehow produce this living, breathing genetic successor to two dead sims. In the centuries that would eventually pass, Claudia’s origins would likely be interpreted as metaphorical or as just a myth to support a regime change and reapers would once more disappear into history.

Which was why Jorah could barely contain his excitement. Only a handful of people had knowingly interacted with a reaper, and even fewer had lived to tell skeptical audiences about them. Claudia’s origins could be explained easily enough by genetic tampering and a surrogate pregnancy, true, but there was confidence in the way Claudia held herself when she spoke about her family. As a family man himself, Jorah could see the respect and love she had for her mysterious family members, and Queen Spencer and Prince Vrai had both supported her claim and sponsored her education. You didn’t get royalty to do that unless there was a legitimate reason.

The siblings approached the house cautiously, unsure of what to expect from its inhabitants. Would there be a fight? Would the reapers run away? Would they kill the Durants just for looking for them?

Ulyssa held her breath and dropped to a curtsy as soon as a figure appeared at the door. Beside her, Jorah waved like an idiot.

“Can I help you?” the man asked, looking baffled by his visitors. “Are you selling something? I don’t think we’re interested. Money’s tight these days. But thanks for dropping by.”

Ulyssa dared to rise from her curtsy after a moment had passed and the door hadn’t immediately been slammed in her face. The man had kind eyes and bone white hair and barely looked older than Claudia. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn’t this.

“Your Highness? King Ewan? My name is Ulyssa and I’m married to Queen Maura Siew. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to talk to you if I could. Please don’t kill me or my idiot brother; we don’t mean you any harm or disrespect.”

The man looked visibly confused by this but made no move to reject them.

“Maura’s wife? I don’t think I’ve seen my niece since she was a teenager. Work keeps me busy these days. Come in, come in. Show me pictures of your kids, Claudia says they’re quite cute.”

The Durants slowly moved into the house, closing the door behind them. Was this a joke? Was this a trap? Neither one of them knew what to expect.

“Anna, we have guests! Your sister’s daughter in law stopped by. No, she didn’t bring the kids. I don’t know what she wants. Just come down and find out for yourself.”

“Is your hair white because your ‘job’?” Jorah asked excitedly, trying to remember every detail of the house they were in so he could relive this experience over and over in his mind.

“Uh, no. I inherited it from my father,” the man replied. “It runs in the family, you could say. Who are you exactly? You’re not that Abe that Claudia talks about, are you? With the demon son?”

Jorah shook his head quickly, fascinated by the knowledge these creatures possessed about his tiny settlement. Had they ever been to Arkhelios? Did they ever accept ‘assignments’ there? He had so many questions.

Before Jorah could ask anything else, a knock on the front door interrupted him.

“Mom? Dad? I’m here to pick up Mom’s brownies for the dinner tonight.”

“Wait outside!” the man exclaimed quickly, ushering the Durants out the door to the backyard in a hurry. “Claudia doesn’t like surprise guests. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“Grandpa!“

Just as soon as the Durants were shoved out the door, Victoriana rushed in, engulfing her grandfather in a hug.

“Vicki, what a surprise!” the man exclaimed, kissing the little girl. Even through the back door window, Ulyssa could see the deep love the two had for each other. This wasn’t some random person Claudia paid to play her parents, this was a legitimate connection. The man with the white hair had to be King Ewan. A woman descended the stairs who could easily be Claudia’s sister. Both had the same shade of green skin and gently curved ears and a commanding demeanor. With Claudia’s hair dyed black, the two women could have been twins. Both of Claudia’s parents looked like they were no older than thirty which was baffling. Ulyssa’s own father was an elder with grey hair and wrinkles who looked very much his age.

“Do reapers not age?” Jorah asked with awe, clearly noticing the same thing as his sister. “Do they age backwards? Do they have real bodies or do they possess living people? I have to know. This is amazing.”

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? Your brothers will be home within the hour from school,” Anna asked, grabbing a chair to sit next to her daughter. Ewan played with his granddaughter happily, seemingly oblivious to the guests outside.

“I have a meeting, I can’t,” Claudia sighed. “Then another meeting with the witch council right after. I’m hoping that Miruna can keep that one short enough that we can spend some time together.”

“Oliver is bringing a friend home from school,” Claudia’s mother insisted. “At least stay long enough to say hi. You never see your brothers anymore. They miss you just as much as I do. Ewan, tell your daughter to stay for dinner.”

“You heard your mother, “ Ewan laughed. “I’m going to barbecue for our guests, so if you miss your dad’s famous burgers, stick around.”

“That’s not fair,” Claudia complained. “Maybe I can take some on the road. You know I can't turn down one of Dad's burgers. They're almost as good as Grandpa’s."

Ewan laughed, reaching for a plate to put the food on.

"I'll be sure to tell him next time I'm over," he promised. "Though he has the advantage. Cooking with actual food is way harder than shaping energy in the afterlife. So, mine are better by default."

Beside Ulyssa, Jorah was practically vibrating with excitement.

"Did you hear? He admitted it," Jorah exclaimed. "He's a reaper! We're looking at a creature so secretive and rare that we might be the only ones who have seen one this century! Our names are going to be in the history books as witnesses! Even Bigfoot has reliable sightings more than reapers. This is huge!"

"Well, clearly they have people stop by and come home with their kids," Ulyssa pointed out. "They get seen, but no one knows what they are. Even at royal events. Maura says that sometimes they go to functions, but in disguise or something. She's never seen Claudia's parents really. Once in passing supposedly, but nothing else. There's probably tons of reapers floating on the edge of society that we have no idea about. Also, I think that you should probably refrain from calling them creatures. They look human enough to be offended."

"Dad? Do you have company over?"

Ulyssa froze at the question. She hadn't counted on Claudia stopping by when she decided to attempt this mission. She was here getting intel on Claudia, but that would all be compromised if Claudia knew about it. She'd tell Maura and then Ulyssa would have to tell her wife that she emptied her schedule today to play detective with her brother.

"Abort! Abort! We've been made!" Jorah whispered urgently. "Teleport us out!"

"No, we told him who we are," Ulyssa hissed. "We need a cover story. Claudia's going to be suspicious as hell about why we're here. She's going to tell Maura and I'll have to spend three more hours in therapy talking about boundaries."

Without thinking through his plan, Jorah opened the door and stepped back into the kitchen area. He waved awkwardly at Claudia in apology.

"Sorry, we don't mean to intrude," he said confidently, despite not having a single clue of what he was doing. "Ulyssa and I were just visiting. I'm sorry, I was bugging her about getting an autograph from Queen Claudia's parents because I'm such a fan. She told me that it was rude to try, but I was just so desperate. My kids and I collect autographs together and they begged me to add the royal family of Pleasantview to our collection. You're so hard to find accurate pictures of, but you know Maura so I thought-"

"That you'd come bother my family?" Claudia remarked. There were icebergs warmer than the tone of her voice. "Innocent civilians just wishing to exist in peace?"

"Claudia, calm down," Ewan snapped, cutting his daughter off before she could tear into the nervous visitors. "We raised you better than that. You, me and your mom aren't too good to do a favour for a father. What example are you teaching Victoriana? Did you bring your autograph book? I'd be glad to sign it."

Ulyssa froze, frantically trying to think of an excuse to have not brought an autograph book with them, but Jorah just smiled.

"Just the small one," he said, pulling out a thin booklet from his wallet. "I wasn't sure if we'd find you, so I packed light."

Thank god my brother is the biggest dork in the world. Of course he keeps an autograph booklet with him, he pulled one out at the last formal tea we hosted. He's probably not even lying about collecting autographs with his kids. Is that a normal thing for a parent to do? Should I be encouraging my kids with a group hobby? Probably. Just another thing I’m terrible at.

“Hey, do you know how to grill fish? I’m not the biggest fan of fish, but Anna loves it. If you could assist me with that, I’d have no problem helping you get some even rarer signatures,” Ewan suggested, clapping Jorah on the back. “How would your kids like Death’s signature? I could probably grab Life’s too if they’re in a good mood.”

Jorah beamed with enthusiastic joy and waved to his sister as he headed for the barbecue, leaving Ulyssa alone with Claudia and her mother.

[sakarrie-creates]

2022 Fic Round-Up/Reflection

Am I over a month late? Yes. Is that going to stop me? Nnnnnnope.

Another year gone and another end of year summary! Yeash, it’s been a rough creative year haha. I’ve practically done nothing but school and work, which has certainly been problematic for writing. It’s been a productive adulting year though, so hopefully this dead period will help me find more opportunities down the line. My gosh I’m ready to be done with school already.

Since I’ve really not written much this year, this will be an abridged version of my reflection from last year’s template. That being said, I’m still very rambly so you can see the details below the cut!

2022 Stats:

Fics Started: 11 Fics Fully Written: 3 Fics Posted: 2 New WIPs: 7 Total WIPs: 20 (ish?) Words Written: 25,950 (33,176 if including documents of pure brainstorm ramble lol) Words Posted: 9,541 Fandoms Written For: 2 Events: 2 (+1)

Posted Fics

Carmen Sandiego (Gen): 1

So Long As You're With Me (7,804): It's been several months since Team Red rescued Player from the clutches of VILE and snapped him out of their control... mostly. His base personality is back, but he still doesn't remember them from anything other than the false memories VILE created for him. And it's just their luck that VILE painted Carmen and company in such a way that Player thinks that their attempts to help him is all some elaborate form for torture, and it doesn't help that he's currently recovering from an injury she caused. Carmen is near her wit's end, but she refuses to give up on her oldest and best friend.

Supernatural (Gen): 1

Still the Same (1,737): After a hunt, Sam and Dean watch the stars for the first time since Dean came back from Hell. Things are finally starting to fall back into place between them, but it's impossible to ignore the ways things have changed. 

Specifics:

Events Participated In:

SPN Summergen, Player Appreciation Week (Fic and Art), Code Secret Santa (Art), Miraculous Magic Zine (Revamp Fic), and Fandom Trumps Hate (Offered Art/Fic).

General questions:

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

Oof, hard to answer. Definitely less than I’d hoped and maybe still a fair bit less than I expected, but I did know that my life was about to get swallowed by school and I wasn’t wrong. I definitely wish I had been able to participate in more events for sure and I’ve had a lot of inspiration for all sorts of stuff that I just haven’t had the brain power for unfortunately. What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

I mean, looking at posting, I only have two options lol. In general though, I stuck fairly close to my norm for all that. I poked around time travel AUs which was fun but most of that was brainstorming/animatic storyboarding rather than writing.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Definitely So Long As You're With Me! That AU lives in my head rent free and boy howdy I’d love to share it all one day but there’s just so much to it. I swear, the pieces I have shared are hardly recognisable as the same story haha. Anyway, it’s definitely a little rushed at some points, but it was a very crammed piece that just kept getting longer, so I’ll take it!

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

Since I’ve only posted two new works this year, we’re going to go overall. Which would definitely still be Fragmentation. It’s got 20.3k views!! That’s only 400 less than it’s total word count and it seems like the hit count keeps going up slowly, which is wild to consider it’s on FF.net in a faded fandom and has been complete for like a year. Next up would be The Problem With Good Intentions at 11k, which also blows me away a bit cause Merlin ended a decade ago but I’m proud of the fandom for staying alive! XD

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

Probably still A Letter to Never Be Read on FF.net. It’s a pretty niche fic, so I can’t really be surprised but I felt artsy writing it way back when lol.

Most overdue story?

Welp, It’s Only Natural is certainly overdue, but I don’t think anyone is really following that one so it’s not in a rush. A Long Ways Home on the other hand drives me crazy cause I’ve actually been wanting to write for it, but brainpower’s been too low from school. Can’t believe it’s been a year. :’(

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Tbh, not really? I pushed myself in what I did, but it was all relatively in my comfort zone. I guess I tried writing in S4 of Supernatural in Still the Same, but that doesn’t feel much like a risk. I also tried out some writing from screenshot prompts which was super fun and interesting, but unfortunately that was sniped by lack of time/energy too. So I guess not really this year.

How’d this year compare to your goals of last year?

Oh boy, I’m so intimidated to read these paragraphs haha. I bet I did like none of them. We’ll start with the bullet list though since that should be fairly straightforward. -Unfortunately, prioritizing school is honestly my biggest writing goal this year. So if I do that all successfully and get through any more than like, 1-2 of these, it will be a success haha. 

-A Long Ways Home (Gonna break it up into Chapter 3, Chapter 4, and if that’s not the epilogue, then an epilogue. I’m determined and really think it’s doable, I just need to be careful not to overestimate again) WIP Bang if not done by Summer. -SPN Summergen -PAB if enough interest -February week event -Loyalties AU Plotting/Drafting -SQZ Zines -Comments

If crazy inspired year: -Gencest Bang -WIP Bang with It’s Only Natural -Post More CS One-shots -Other Zines

Okay, so some of those crossings are a little generous, but I wanted to at least check off the school one haha. Tbh, though, it wasn’t as bad as I expected! I did a decent job of having low expectations lol.

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

Oh boy. See I wish that this last year being so sad would mean this year would be back to creative rush, but I’m already a month in and I haven’t even tried writing anything other than school papers. I’ve been getting surprisingly into Huntlow (omg, Sakarrie having a romantic ship that she’s like legit into????? whacK), so it’d be fun to experiment with some fic there! Willow needs more angst fic to balance out our traumatized golden boi. Trying to find some zines would also be fun! And I’ll be sad if I ever have to miss Summergen cause it’s 100% my favorite event of the year. Oh, and of course I’m hoping to be able to participate more in Player Appreciation Week this coming month!! Shameless plug.

I’d also like to make some progress on A Long Ways Home, so hopefully in my Summer break I’ll finally have a chance to sit down and write. I’m not going to be dumb enough to put time frame estimations on it again though haha. I also am not a huge fan of having WIPs just sitting out there so if I could knock off It’s Only Natural sometime, that’d be great, but it’s honestly not a priority and I haven’t been feeling Voltron for a bit.

As for other plans, Loyalties AU and EverYOnE is bROkeN AU both haunt me at night and then there’s the time travel au that just has my brain zooming whenever I think about it. They just all get so intense and I WANT to share that intensity cause I know they could be epic, but first I gotta finalize the details, then I gotta have the skills to pull it off, then I gotta actually write sooooooooooooo we’ll see where those get me.

Okay so comments. Bah that project is such a mindset monster haha. I want to be supportive and express thanks to those who write and comment, but also the more pressure I put on it, the harder it gets. I feel like it makes reading new fics very intimidating and makes leaving chill comments harder. I think it would be nice to get through, but I think my goal for this year is to let my 1000 tabs go and just comment/respond in the moment whenever I can and not overthink it. I do want to catch up on replies though so that can be my comment goal for this year. In terms of my numbers, though, I did meet my generous goal of 20k written and 10k posted this year! (Rounding a little but close enough.) And I met my ultimate wc goal if brainstorming essays count!

Bullet list time!

2023:

-Unfortunately, keeping my scholarship has to be my biggest goal this year again so gonna put that here in case it's the only thing I can check off come December. -A Long Ways Home (at least 1 new chapter) -SPN Summergen -At least 3/7 Player Appreciation Week days -Catch up on comment replies -At least do some more brainstorming for bigger CS aus -Huntlow/Owl House fics? -One zine?

If crazy inspired year: -All of A Long Ways Home -All Player Appreciation Week Days -WIP Bang with It’s Only Natural -Post More CS One-shots -Write out more big AU scenes -Other Zines

So with that, I’m gonna set my word count bar pretty low again haha. In fact, I think I’ll just leave it as it was last year.

Easy Goal Word Count Goal: 20k (at least 10k posted)

Stretch Goal (aka, if I don’t die from school): 40k (at least 25k posted)

Ultimate 2023 Word Count Goal: 30k

[staenless]

Shout out to the universe I created where reincarnation was proven and science found a way to track reincarnated souls so if you died in dept you had to still pay the dept and people became able to hold memories form past lives and the main characters in the story in this world were a fourteen year old girl who had been around since the middle ages and worked for the mob and had left home cause she had thousands of years of knowledge and some random 30 year old office worker she adopts who's on his first life. I came up with the idea at like 15 cause it was funny to me but now I think it'd Def be interesting for this girl to have a world of knowledge and expereince but still an under developed brain and emotional outbursts vs normal guy who has never done any of this before having to watch out for and care for someone who theoretically is his superior and elder but still needs someone to care for her. Also she chain smokes and has a shotgun and wears a silly school uniform cause at the time I wore a silly school uniform and I think that visual goes hard. Not to be confused with my other universe where supernatural horrors are real and there's very begnien organisations dealing with it, no not like SCP my people have actual good protocols and funky vibes and get the job done and there aren't tangible creatures just a vague horror that persists it's based off two video games that nobody cares about. I have been awake for 20 hours straight I am so tired

[headlessmania]

headcanons ; witchcraft & powers. for those who i’ve written with for the past 10 years, i have gone over how the girls have their abilities. the boys kinda don’t have any….until now.

the girls powers are more obvious and they are considered witches. the boys are not considered warlocks, but were just gifted simply abilities based on their bloodline.

this is due to the fact that in their mother’s bloodline, women were the only ones guaranteed to have abilities and be gifted witch magic . the men were granted abilities if worthy. all of the crane boys were born worthy of abilities.

do they practice witchcraft? i use to say no, because they were just heavily into the hunting world of the supernatural, now i am saying yes, mainly cass and luna. the boys literally can’t, all they have is the energy of a warlock.

in the under cut, i go in a bit deep into all of the cranes abilities and practices of witchcraft. i will discuss the both positive and negative side of their abilities. more will be added to this the more i develop each other these headcanons.

THE BOYS: victor ; being able to tell when danger is near. positive? it has kept them out of trouble many times. victor is the protector of his family. with this ability, he is able to sense when any form of danger is coming and has the ability to stop it. not in a final des.tination sort of way, it’s just a feeling that’s close but different to anxiety. negative? well, his mama gave him a charm to mute this ability. this is due to the fact the intuition based on any level of danger feels the same. danger is considered two variants to everybody, minimal and crucial. like stubbing your toe and getting in a car accident. he’d feel high strung all the time when his ability first happened

shaun ; seeing the past in a dream. otherwise known as retrocognition. he use to believe that he was plagued till nightmares, until he got wide eyed reactions by others as he tells them real events that happened. they come at times when it’s needed, not wanted, and are also completely random.   positive? it has been helpful to uncover cases. being able to take a look into the past almost like he’s watching a movie. and it’s in first person. negative? the dreams can be spotty. not make much sense. or be completely misinterpreted. if he makes a big claim, it has come back to bit him in the ass. as it was seen from a completely different narrative.  he could see someone getting murdered, point the finger at someone to get them locked up, then have a dream the next week or month or year that shows the truth. with these dreams, he’s VERY cautious to express them out loud.

hans ; resistance against ALL magic. no magic can work on him. telepath, empathy, nope, nothing. potions, spells, curses. nothing can possibly harm him if it involves magic. certain creatures are born with magic and fatal wounds from claws or teeth can kill or turn them into the creature. if the creature is born with magic, they can only injury him. they can kill, just but blunt force but not magic. positive? he has been put in many situations where magic could be used against him and killed him. it didn’t do shit. it would be a quick distraction for them as they’re confused it didn’t work on him. negative? if he is injury, and can only be healed by magic for some odd reason, it won’t do shit to him. he’s all natural baby. i was thinking too, vampire blood *might* not work on him.

michael ; touching an object or weapon and see the memories attached with it. otherwise known as psychometry. he has to channel it. it’s not like he touches a door and it’s like boom memories. he focuses on something and then positive? he can help solve cases. be able to see right what happens. if someone brings him an ancient artifact from supernatural beings, he can hold it and tell you exactly what it was used for and how it got there. negative? not everything has a good memory that goes along with it. especially in the supernatural world. nothing is censored when he touches something. it could make him go a bit crazy seeing certain things. to confirm someone he loves is dead by touching something. seeing how it happened. not exactly the best thing.

jason ; seeing visions through other people’s eyes. he could be anywhere, it can happen at any point. you’ll know it is happening based on the state of his eyes. the whites of his eyes turn black. the blue turns orange. it doesn’t matter where this person is, he will be connected to them through their sight. when it’s happening, he can think about them and is able to control it better when it’s occurring. [jason is written by ash, i do not write this sibling!] positives? it’s an intense experience seeing something through someone else’s eyes. it could help get them out of a sticky situation and give him a different appreciation of seeing the narrative through someone else’s eyes. negatives? you will see things you don’t want to see. for years without knowledge, he watched through his father’s eyes are he suffered. jason can also not control his. he can be anywhere doing anything and then boom. it comes randomly.

THE GIRLS:

cassandra ; touching someone and feeling their emotions. otherwise known as an empath. cass had developed this ability around puberty. she is always seen in gloves that are magically enchanted for her to touch whoever she wants freely. she can also choose to shift someone’s emotional state. positive? if someone is in stress or she’s trying to see how they feel, she can easily be like ugh lemme check, touch them, and be like oh god you’re feeling anxious or nervous what’s going on. she can stop someone from having a panic attack or rage. negative? negative emotions after touching them are really scary if she doesn’t have her gloves on. she’s touched murderers, monsters, due to the fact she had to and had to mentally recover hard from that. periods where she’s safe with the people around her is the only time she’s not wearing the gloves. if she changes someone’s emotional state, the feeling will build up eventually until they are an emotional mess. she only takes negative emotions away temporarily.

maley ; being able to control the part of the brain. otherwise known as mind control. maley can control someones mind. not in a read your mind sort of way or feel their emotions sort of way like cass. in a way thats “i think of an intention for you to stop doing something physically and i can control your movements or melt your brain.” it works for supernatural and normal people. her eyes turn orange in the process of it. positive? in a magically sense, her magic is the most powerful. none of the siblings gifts could actually harm someone. hers is the only one thats physical. she could get herself out of many situations if she wanted to. to have the ability to literally make someone walk over and get her anything she wants. or have the power over them to literally boil their brain with a long glare. negative? this power is easy to lose control of if highly emotional. maley can get some mood swings. she learned that the hard way when she got scolded by brom bones. he stopped moving completely, he nearly dropped to the ground because of the pressure in his head. even though maley isn’t fond of brom to the slightest, she never wanted to use that kind of magic again.

luna ; communication with the dead. otherwise known as a medium. the dead come to her, she can’t really control who she wants to talk to. if a spirt is summoned, she is able to communicate with them. she is able to go into a deep meditation if she is contacting someone and walk on the other side mentally. positive? solving cases, being able to help people moved on, seeing loved one and knowing that they’re okay. she thought it was pretty badass at first. negative? possession…thankfully, she has an anti possession tattoo. her biggest fear is it getting burned off or something. thankfully, she’s never been possessed [yet]. the cases they have dealt with don’t have the nicest spirits. they can taunt her if they have a lot of energy and it will take her also a lot of energy to drown them out/ignore them. which she eventually can.

[archived-headlessmania]

headcanons ; witchcraft & powers. for those who i’ve written with, i have gone over how the girls have their abilities. the boys kinda don’t have any....until now. the girls powers are more obvious and they are considered witches. the boys are not considered warlocks, but were just gifted simply abilities based on their bloodline. this is due to the fact that in their mother’s bloodline, women were the only ones guaranteed to have abilities and be gifted witch magic . the men were granted abilities if worthy. all of the crane boys were born worthy of abilities. 

do they practice witchcraft? i use to say no, because they were just heavily into the hunting world of the supernatural, now i am saying yes, some of the girls. the boys literally can’t, all they have is the energy of a warlock.

in the under cut, i go in a bit deep into all of the cranes abilities and practices of witchcraft. i will discuss the both positive and negative side of their abilities. more will be added to this the more i develop each other these headcanons.

THE BOYS: victor ; being able to tell when danger is near. he did not receive this gift until his late 20′s. his power was limited due to the intense feelings that would come with it. explained below in the positives and negatives.  positive? it has kept them out of trouble many times. victor is the protector of his family. with this ability, he is able to sense when any form of danger is coming and has the ability to stop it. not in a final des.tination sort of way, it’s just a feeling that’s close but different to anxiety.  negative? well, his sisters charmed a chain to limit his ability only in crucial situations. this is due to the fact the intuition based on any level of danger feels the same. danger is considered two variants to everybody, minimal and crucial. like stubbing your toe and getting in a car accident. he’d feel high strung all the time when his ability first happened.   michael ; touching an object or weapon and see the memories attached with it. otherwise known as psychometry. he has to channel it. it’s not like he touches a door and it’s like boom memories. he focuses on something and then  positive? he can help solve cases. be able to see right what happens. if someone brings him an ancient artifact from supernatural beings, he can hold it and tell you exactly what it was used for and how it got there.  negative? not everything has a good memory that goes along with it. especially in the supernatural world. nothing is censored when he touches something. it could make him go a bit crazy seeing certain things. to confirm someone he loves is dead by touching something. seeing how it happened. not exactly the best thing.  shaun ; seeing the past in a dream. otherwise known as retrocognition. he use to believe that he was plagued till nightmares, until he got wide eyed reactions by others as he tells them real events that happened. they come at times when it’s needed, not wanted, and are also completely random.   positive? it has been helpful to uncover cases. being able to take a look into the past almost like he’s watching a movie. and it’s in first person.  negative? the dreams can be spotty. not make much sense. or be completely misinterpreted. if he makes a big claim, it has come back to bit him in the ass. as it was seen from a completely different narrative.  he could see someone getting murdered, point the finger at someone to get them locked up, then have a dream the next week or month or year that shows the truth. with these dreams, he’s VERY cautious to express them out loud.  hans ; resistance against ALL magic. no magic can work on him. telepath, empathy, nope, nothing. potions, spells, curses. nothing can possibly harm him if it involves magic. certain creatures are born with magic and fatal wounds from claws or teeth can kill or turn them into the creature. if the creature is born with magic, they can only injury him. they can kill, just but blunt force but not magic.  positive? he has been put in many situations where magic could be used against him and killed him. it didn’t do shit. it would be a quick distraction for them as they’re confused it didn’t work on him.  negative? if he is injury, and can only be healed by magic for some odd reason, it won’t do shit to him. he’s all natural baby. i was thinking too, vampire blood *might* not work on him. 

jason ; seeing visions through other people’s eyes. he could be anywhere, it can happen at any point. you’ll know it is happening based on the state of his eyes. the whites of his eyes turn black. the blue turns orange. it doesn’t matter where this person is, he will be connected to them through their sight. when it’s happening, he can think about them and is able to control it better when it’s occurring. [jason is written by @thefearedsouls​, i do not write this sibling!]  positives? it’s an intense experience seeing something through someone else’s eyes. it could help get them out of a sticky situation and give him a different appreciation of seeing the narrative through someone else’s eyes. negatives? you will see things you don’t want to see. for years without knowledge, he watched through his father’s eyes are he suffered. jason can also not control his. he can be anywhere doing anything and then boom. it comes randomly. 

THE GIRLS: cassandra ; touching someone and feeling their emotions. otherwise known as an empath. cass had developed this ability around puberty. she is always seen in gloves that are magically enchanted for her to touch whoever she wants freely. she can also choose to shift someone’s emotional state. positive? if someone is in stress or she’s trying to see how they feel, she can easily be like ugh lemme check, touch them, and be like oh god you’re feeling anxious or nervous what’s going on. she can stop someone from having a panic attack or rage. negative? negative emotions after touching them are really scary if she doesn’t have her gloves on. she’s touched murderers, monsters, due to the fact she had to and had to mentally recover hard from that. periods where she’s safe with the people around her is the only time she’s not wearing the gloves. if she changes someone’s emotional state, the feeling will build up eventually until they are an emotional mess. she only takes negative emotions away temporarily. 

maley ; being able to control the part of the brain. otherwise known as mind control. maley can control someones mind. not in a read your mind sort of way or feel their emotions sort of way like cass. in a way thats "i think of an intention for you to stop doing something physically and i can control your movements or melt your brain." it works for supernatural and normal people. positive? in a magically sense, her magic is the most powerful. none of the siblings gifts could actually harm someone. hers is the only one thats physical. she could get herself out of many situations if she wanted to. to have the ability to literally make someone walk over and get her anything she wants. or have the power over them to literally boil their brain with a long glare.  negative? this power is easy to lose control of if highly emotional. maley can get some mood swings. she learned that the hard way when she got scolded by brom bones. he stopped moving completely, he nearly dropped to the ground because of the pressure in his head. even though maley isn’t fond of brom to the slightest, she never wanted to use that kind of magic again.

luna ; communication with the dead. otherwise known as a medium. the dead come to her, she can’t really control who she wants to talk to. if a spirt is summoned, she is able to communicate with them. she is able to go into a deep meditation if she is contacting someone and walk on the other side mentally. positive? solving cases, being able to help people moved on, seeing loved one and knowing that they’re okay. she thought it was pretty badass at first. negative? possession...thankfully, she has an anti possession tattoo. her biggest fear is it getting burned off or something. thankfully, she’s never been possessed [yet]. the cases they have dealt with don’t have the nicest spirits. they can taunt her if they have a lot of energy and it will take her also a lot of energy to drown them out/ignore them. which she eventually can. 

[ragingbookdragon]

Of Nights So Hollow, Of Legends So Great

Night Culture AU!Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 1.8K Warnings: Angst, Uh..Scary? I guess?

Author's Note: This is based on the wonderful @bunnvoid Night Culture AU and I felt compelled to write this at midnight because I couldn't stop thinking about it. Bunn, I hope I did your ideas justice! Honestly, I keep going back and forth between the drawings to make sure! I had fun writing it! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

It was said that at the heart of every legend there was a grain of truth. Legends are just pieces of history fabricated beyond wildest belief, built upon by centuries of retelling, each story sewing a new thread into the tapestry from whence it came. But that’s all that legends are. Threads twined together, woven greater and farther than the original fable.

***

The old castle was a legend. Perhaps not the castle itself, but what supposedly resided inside. Supernatural creatures that skirted down cobblestone alleys and between taverns, seeking out fresh blood in the night. That was one form of the legend, if you believed it. The other form was that of creatures who skirted down cobblestone alleys and between taverns, seeking out evil and destroying it where it plagued innocence.

The chateau lied in the midst of the Devilwood Wilds, just outside the City of Old Gotham. Even during the days when the sun would peek through the gray clouds, it appeared gloomy, blackened stone walls, charred shingles and shutters. The giant Devilwood and Shadow trees prevented sight of the doors of the castle; only the top could be seen, to get the real view, one would’ve had to go into the forest. There was another legend: the horrors of the Wilds.

Whispers on the school-grounds told of a creature, big and terrifying that could be summoned with ritual stones and fresh bat blood; those that summon the beast are never seen again. The adults were less convinced of the idea, though they still forbid their children from reaching even the edges of the forested area. Whilst they believed those that went in were never heard from again, it wasn’t from a creature eating them, but a lack of guidance. Starvation. Wild animals. The freezing fog that made your breath turn to frost.

Timothy remembers hearing those whispers when he passed the old schoolhouse. His mother and father didn’t let him interact with the common children, instead his lessons were taught by private tutors from the wealthiest lands, paid for with the Drake treasure of gold and gemstones.

What more so Timothy remembered was the inhuman being that appeared in his father’s manor, striking down his mother with a slash of black magic, his father following. He remembers the way his father’s eyes rolled back in his skull, fear spreading through his body as he hid in the corner of the room, whimpering and crying. And he most certainly remembered the cold hand of the demon sliding between his shoulder blades before it dug into his skin, piercing his flesh, laughing as he cried out in pain as pricks spread out along his back and down his arms.

Warmth bled down his back as black feathers pushed from his skin and Timothy panted as his fingernails grew in length, sharpening as they darkened. He remembered scrambling to his feet, darting away from the creature as he ran. Forgetting the corpses of his family and staff around him, throwing the door open, bursting into the night, and sprinting down the street, leaving a trail of bloody, black feathers in the direction of the Devilwood Wilds.

***

The first night was the least remembered but the darkest. Violent and corrupting nightmares slithering inside his head as he tossed and turned along the frigid ground in a feverish deathlike state, the wings at his back only growing in size.

The second night was less nightmare-ridden, but much more painful. Timothy had pierced a wing on a stray Devilwood tree, the syrup like poison only infecting the wound. He was hungry and cold. Exhausted and scared. He tried to remember all the books he read as a child of the knights facing the elements for a week in order to ascend knighthood; he couldn’t seem to recall a thing.

The third night seemed to be his last. He lay huddled up against a raised Shadow tree root, the ebony wood providing stability for his wounded wing. Timothy sniffled, dragging his knees to his chest as he lay his chin on his arms, ignoring the grumbling of his stomach as it ate itself in hunger.

A tree branch creaked above him, and he craned his neck up, eyes widening when he saw the glowing eyes of the masked creature. The legends were right. The creature’s head twisted sideways, reminding Timothy of an owl, then the other way, like it was observing him. It made a noise and he scrambled to the floor of the forest, curling his injured wing above his head and over his body to protect himself.

THUNK!

Timothy whimpered, ready to be torn to shreds, but when no vicious claws or snapping teeth came at him, he carefully peered between his open wing. There lie a satchel, as long as his forearm and as wide as his middle was. He looked up towards the tree branch to where the creature had sat, but there was nothing there anymore; he glanced around, it wasn’t in sight.

He blinked and shuffled towards the satchel, untying the drawstrings with fumbling clawed hands. Inside lay a pair of thick wool socks, a small blanket, and another small bag. Timothy pulled it from the satchel and opened it; half a loaf of bread and a chunk of meat the size of his hand were stowed inside.

Timothy forewent the etiquette he was taught as a child, giving into his ravenous desire as he devoured the meat. It was tender and juicy, the glaze a mixture of honey and cinnamon.

A memory flowed to his mind, the dinner after the rising of the first star, his family and staff all surrounding the dining table, a divine feast laid before them. The smiling faces of his mother and father stilled his hunger and he placed the food back in the satchel, uncurling the wool blanket. Timothy lay underneath the raised Shadow tree roots, one wing curled around him, and he fell into a restless sleep with tears frozen on his cheeks.

***

When he awoke the next morning, his wing was no longer torn and infected. A new feather had appeared where the wound had been. Timothy wanted to learn to fly. He’d owned a bird once. A Ruby Firebird, with long, crimson-colored feathers and big ruby eyes. It had been his only real friend and he’d watched it a lot. It couldn’t be that hard.

He stretched his wings out, unable to fight the urge to touch them with a single black claw. It tingled. Timothy blinked and beat them, unsure. He beat them again, this time a little harder, keeping at it until with each beat he was able to blow the long grass flat against the ground. A giddy smile came across his lips when the tips of his toes grazed the ground.

What he had not counted on was how tired he was going to get after only a few brief minutes of trying. His wings felt sore. Timothy would try again tomorrow to rise above the tall grass.

***

The creature would appear at odd times during the night and Timothy had stopped feeling the cold fear in his gut when it did. It never came near him; it just watched with the cocked head, back and forth, then would drop the satchel again and disappear. Sometimes there were scribbles inside. He didn’t know what they meant; but he knew the language. Thaatisgani. An old language his writing teacher had shown him one day. A language long died out amongst the common and even the elite folk.

Timothy wanted to know what it meant. He wanted to know what the creature was. His determination drew him to the front of the castle during the night of the harshest season storm. Lighting crackled across the sky, the thunder rolled along the clouds and the rain came down in torrents. He was freezing and soaked to the bone and the weight of his wings had him crawling up the steps, collapsing at the door.

He weakly raised a clawed hand, one nail scratching the black glazed door and he descended into darkness.

***

His mother liked to wear scented oils. They smelled of Queen’s Briar and Golden Belladonna. Before he was older, she used to let Timothy sit beside her when she would apply them to her wrist and ears. She would smile at him and tell him stories of far away lands.

Warmth spread across his eyes, and he rolled over in what he thought was his dream, only to roll onto the ground, landing awkwardly on his wings. Timothy whined and unfolded himself off the ground, rubbing his eyes, only to see the creature a hair’s breadth away from his face.

Timothy choked on his fear and scrambled away, only for the creature to grab his shoulder.

“Stay.”

He halted, looking back at it. “You speak the common tongue?”

The creature stared at him. “You are Timothy Drake. Son of Earl Drake.”

“I am,” Timothy responded, then looked at his hands. “But my family is…is dead.”

“Killed by a slithering demon from the Farstead realm.”

Tears prickled Timothy’s vision. “It killed my parents and cursed me.” He looked at the creature. “I’m a monster.”

“You’re cursed to believe what you think you are.” The creature waved a glowing hand and Timothy blinked in shock as the wings disappeared and his hands turned to normal. “It’s merely an illusion. You’ve only been tainted with cursed magic.”

It was much too complicated for Timothy to pull apart now. “Can I be healed?”

The creature blinked its glowing obs. “Cursed magic cannot be healed…but it can be trained.” They leaned forward, getting in his face. “I can teach you to control and transform.”

“You’re not going to eat me?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“…Yes.”

“You hesitated just a bit right there.”

A bottle rolled out from the corner of the room and the creature sighed, turning its head to it. “Richard. Jason. Come here.”

Two young boys, not that much older than Timothy appeared from behind a corner, guilty looks on their faces as though they’d been caught eavesdropping.

The creature nodded to Timothy. “Take him upstairs. He is dirty and tired.”

The tallest one, Jason, crossed his arms over his chest. “Just like that, Bruce? You’re going to take the witch boy in?”

“Pot-kettle,” Richard coughed, smiling when Jason elbowed him.

The creature, now known as Bruce, sighed. “Take the boy. He is tired.”

Jason and Richard obeyed, each hauling Timothy up under the armpits, leading him to a dimly lit staircase.

“Are you two going to eat me?”

“Yes,” Jason replied without hesitation.

“Jason!” Richard barked. “Stop.” He looked down at Timothy. “We’re not going to eat you Timothy…we’re going to help you. And that includes having a warm bed to sleep in and hot food to eat.”

Tears once again gathered in Timothy’s eyes, and he lowered his head as he sniffled. For once since that night, he felt safe.

These were the legends that prowled the city streets. They were supposed to be vicious and dark, evil and bloodthirsty, not ribbing and warm.

But then again, what are legends, but threads twined together, woven greater and farther than the original fable?

[that-was-anticlimactic]

sk8 headcanons because i am Bored

autistic langa likes frozen fruit a lot—strawberries are his favorite—because he likes the cool texture

reki has lip freckles that really stand out after he’s been in the sun a lot ! there’s like four or five of them :)

just thinking about “all those friday nights / under the lights / under the bleachers together / you and i were meant to be something more than a faded memory / till you and i / something divided us” but matchablossom,,,

“but i’ve already lost it once / what i already won / i’ve lost too much now to care / but i know that something’s still there” ,,, matchablossom,,, ahhhhh

miya and shadow being besties,,, shadow being miya’s parental figure and miya being his adopted nb child,,,

shadow being the first person miya comes out as nonbinary to,,,

adam going to jail,,,

reki having a stuffed animal collection and letting miya name some and then realizing that miya never had a stuffed animal growing up so reki gives miya one of his older ones that he loved as a child and then buys them a new one too… and miya asks reki to name it for them because sentiments,,,

after seeing the girl he had a crush on kiss someone else, shadow takes out his feelings on the only thing he knows how to—skating at s but he’s not in a good mind and he feels sick because he thought he thought he thought he had a chance and he doesn’t pay close enough attention and gets hurt and miya calls him an idiot and patches him up and shadow feels like a kid again but it’s kind of nice to have someone else actually help with his wounds instead of just attempting to wash them and then cover them with makeup by himself,,,

joe and shadow bonding over hating the feeling of loneliness so they make up for it the only way they know how which is being loud and being extra because they don’t feel as lonely if they’re loud

reki, miya, and cherry = adhd club

cherry and reki drawing together… and reki teaching cherry how to be more loose and carefree when he draws and cherry teaching reki how to add more structure to his art,,,

langa stealing and wearing reki’s headbands,,,

langa with glasses

reki’s sisters doing cherry and joe’s hair,,, or even reki, langa, and miya doing their hair and shadow just watches and takes pictures and reki puts cherry’s hair in fishtails because he had practice with his sisters and cherry secretly likes it (and so does joe) and miya and langa just. completely messing up joe’s hair and putting hair clips in it and langa attempts a ponytail kind of like how cherry does his hair at s (and no cherry did Not find it very attractive shut up)

shadow being a scrapbooker and having like ten scrapbooks from his life,,,

shadow not being as good of an artist as cherry or reki but he does it because he enjoys it and when cherry and reki find out they invite him to draw with them

the crew / sk8 fam all going to shadow’s house and doing a couple scrapbook pages together and it’s a mess but it’s them and it’s one of shadow’s favorite pages because he’s never scrapbooked with anyone before

langa is just naturally beautiful and photogenic so the art squad always asks him to model for them if they want to draw people

joe has depression because i want him to

and shadow has anxiety

because i do Not want any of them to be neurotypical

yeah so joe has depression, shadow has anxiety, cherry has add and anxiety, miya had adhd and separation anxiety, langa is autistic, reki has tourette’s and adhd and depression ✌🏻

when miya gets old enough, shadow gets them a part time job at the flower shop

miya likes a lot of pillows

langa sleeps with no pillows (unless reki is partially his pillow)

thinking about after reki’s second beef with adam,,, joe after he tells adam off and they’re away from the crowd, he passes out because let’s be real—there is absolutely no way he didn’t get injured and the worse one is probably a broken nose and a huge gash at the back of his head with like skin peeling and stuff like need stitches so the gang all goes to cherry’s and they help patch reki up

somewhere in that time the love hotel gets brought up and by extension getting hit by the car and getting beat up and joe and shadow are on the verge of slamming their heads against the wall at reki’s nonchalantness

and reki’s p injured so he’s laying in the couch with his head resting in langa’s lap,,,

joe tells everyone embarrassing cherry stories from school like all the time (but joe was a foolish child so cherry gets revenge)

miya likes crime documentaries

joe unironically watched supernatural and that’s part of the reason why he and cherry broke up

(maybe joe just thought dean was attractive—sue him!)

lol wait what if cherry sued adam to pay for reki’s medical bills since they inevitably had to take him to the hospital

cherry constantly tells joe that he will sue him

joe may unironically watched spn, but cherry unironically watched glee

langa wrote destiel fanfiction once upon a time

langa wrote cas bakes dean a pie--

miya is carla’s favorite (after cherry)

cherry and langa with weighted blankets also

sometimes reki steals langa’s but only if he stays the night or langa brings it over and usually if he “steals” it, it’s them sharing it or reki needs the comfort of the weight if he’s not having a good time mentally lol

joe with depression,,, i just think about that a lot sometimes,,, sometimes cooking feels meaningless and, like langa, he only feels something when he skates but it’s only this temporary feeling of joy and life,,,

and shadow with anxiety,,, over-compensating his anxiety by being shadow at night and being over the top and sometimes mean because internalized ableism,,, and if he pretends he doesn’t have anxiety then maybe he won’t feel it late at night or when everything seems to go wrong during a shift at work and he keeps dropping flowers because his hands are shaking and girls don’t like guys with anxiety, right ??? so shadow thinks that he CAN’T have anxiety :/// poor dude

miya with separation anxiety pushing people away before they get attached because if they push them away before they become friends, then they wouldn’t be able to leave them,,,

langa always bouncing his foot in class and all the time because it’s his main form of stimming (look at that boy and try to tell me he doesn’t bounce his legs like there’s no tomorrow i dare you) and sometimes it makes his legs sore and cherry and joe once recommended using a heating pad if it got really sore and langa does sometimes and it makes him happy

reki with ts having anxiety when he has to speak in front of the class / do presentations because he’s hyper-aware of his tics,,, so he always meets langa’s eyes and watches langa the whole time and langa sometimes mimes taking deep breaths which really helps but honestly just seeing langa makes reki feel like he can do anything (because he would do anything for langa)

cherry doodling to stim as a child and always getting in trouble for it because teachers used to like get pissed when students doodled (or maybe they still do and it’s just always been pissy teachers and not specifically teachers when our parents were kids) and eventually cherry got fed up with getting points docked for doodling so he started writing lists and stuff and been realized he had impeccable handwriting (also joe let cherry doodle on his hand during classes they had together so cherry wouldn’t get in trouble)

cherry once had a dream that he was rachel berry and joe was finn uhh *insert last name here* from glee and joe had a beautiful voice when they sang duets in his dream so he managed to convince joe to sing in reality and turns out joe cannot sing and cherry’s glee dreams were never the same (look i am tired lol)

joe likes being the strong one in the group and he enjoys being able to mess around / show off by just casually picking people up (he also does it as an expression of love because they’re basically hugs depending on how he holds you) and one day cherry is like… done with it ??? and just strolls up to joe and just throws him over his shoulder or something and joe combusts because he did Not know cherry can do that and no his face isn’t red shut up he doesn’t find this attractive what’re you talking about

miya wants a sword and keeps trying to convince everyone to get them one for their birthday but no one will agree because ‘they’ll hurt themselves and everyone else it does not matter that all your favorite characters have swords that does not mean You should have one’

langa is the kind of person that puts peanut butter on a cheeseburger

reki’s love language is a mix of gift giving and acts of service, but he tends to lean more towards giving gifts. his receiving love language is words of affirmation but he does Not know that yet (langa does—hence his constant “you’re amazing, reki”—and eventually so does the rest of their gang lol)

shadow likes theatre

miya has internet friends,,, so does cherry,,,

joe posts those affirmations on his story all the time

reki’s texts are sometime hard to read because a) his hands get injured a lot and b) tourette’s but langa (and soon the others) learn how to read reki texts

langa sleeps with a fan on for white noise

shadow was worried (and feeling a little left out but if he doesn’t acknowledge it, then that emotion is not real… that’s how that works, right???) since he was in the hospital when reki skated against adam the second time, so when they all went back to cherry’s to tend to reki’s numerous wounds and also celebrate friendship, miya kept shadow on a face time call the entire evening

langa has an android phone

reki is super comfortable with periods because he lives with five girls—he also usually has a couple of pads and tampons on him at all times because he’s the older sibling lol

langa wears socks with sandals,,, so does shadow,,,

shadow’s feet get cold easily so he wears fluffy socks a lot

cherry keeps his fingernails at the perfect length to dramatically tap them against the table (also to freak people out by doing that)

miya is Not a morning person

miya also likes having the windows to shadow’s car rolled up because their hair gets in their face otherwise but shadow likes them down so it’s this constant struggle

i still stand by cherry suing ad*m and using the money he won to pay for reki’s medical bills (… and shadow’s… and langa’s if he needs any)

i just feel like many people have reason to sue ad*m

ponytail langa rights

joe had really bad acne as a child and teen and cherry helped him feel less self-conscious about it and helped him embrace having acne and that’s one reason why he exposes so much skin as joe because it’s a reminder of personal growth <3

also joe has acne scars on his chin and cheeks

joe has cherry’s calligraphy all over his walls

ik i already said so in reki with ts headcanons but he doodles pictures for everyone in the sk8 fam and they all keep each and every one and shadow even puts them in his scrapbook

let langa punch adam 2k21

let reki punch adam 2k21

actually they All deserve to punch adam 2k21

miya’s favorite movie is coraline

langa can’t snap his fingers

joe and cherry always argue over whether even numbers or odd numbers are best

miya does esports

joe was in marching band and was in drumline

cherry stays up late to look at the stars and he had those plastic stars taped to his ceiling as a child

reki eats tomatoes like apples and it makes joe want to cry

okay if the atla & and the sk8 characters became internet friends… these are who i think they’d be internet friends with…

cherry: katara

joe: suki

langa: sokka

miya: aang

reki: zuko

shadow: toph

note: suki, joe, miya, and aang are all actually besties. aang is the kind of person that would usually annoy miya but they just can’t dislike aang no matter how much he may want to and they somehow find themselves attached

but suki and miya would also get along really well because I know they would and aang and joe would just have fun and like it’s what they deserve so they are interchangeable / all besties

also sk8 characters if they were benders...

cherry: fire or waterbender,,, cannot decide

joe: earthbender

langa: waterbender

miya: firebender

reki: resident nonbender

shadow: earthbender

[homeformyheart]

*cough cough* 40. for the uh the LT route? :)

i am so so so sorry this took so long but inspiration suddenly hit around 10pm and finished it 3 hours later. i hope whichever anon you are gets to see this, since it's been months 🥺.

author’s note: this one hurt and takes place long after the events of the current books (and long after my canon relationship storyline). i hope the switching of tenses isn't too jarring, but it's sort of needed here given the POVs. enjoy! copyright: all characters, except the oc detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – adam du mortain x f!detective (lyra kingston) x nate sewell (LT route) rating/warnings: 14+; angst based on/prompt: OTP angst prompts // 40. “I’m still not over you.” (in bold) word count: ~1k summary: after months spent trying to bury her feelings for nate and adam, lyra gives in before giving up.

time

nate glanced up from his tome at the large grandfather clock, the antique façade indicating that it wasn’t quite late enough for bed. he held back a sigh – time seemed to move slower these days.

he used to count down the days, when the only way to tell time was to follow the watch schedule and listen for the bells. sometimes it made the endless days at sea a little more tolerable.

other times, it was complete torture.

to know that life was passing by and yet being unable to move forward with it. he had never hoped to experience anything like that again.

and now time is one of the few things he no longer has to worry about.

time in essence, is the quintessential part of human existence that he has no right to claim.

instead, it speeds past him.

pushing the world around him toward newer heights and frightening changes, the awe-inspiring advancements never failing to strike him with renewed hope and fear.

it’s not that time is accelerating the world around him, but that he is no longer able – or perhaps willing – to go with it.

but today – and yesterday, and the day before, and so on, and he’s sure it will be the same tomorrow – he wishes he could fast forward by a decade or a century. maybe more since he’s not sure how much time it will take for the deep-rooted ache in his soul to heal.

maybe it will take nine hundred years.

his longest and dearest friend comes to mind. adam is staring out into the darkness, unmoving in body and in spirit. for a split second, nate wonders if that’s what he needs – the ability to lock away the hurt and let the centuries grow protective ivy over it.

he chases the notion away with a shake of his head, knowing that the hurt was just collateral damage for opening himself up to the possibility of a truly special kind of love with lyra.

adam tenses and nate dutifully returns his gaze to the words in his lap. a brief apology and easy forgiveness said to each other in passing months ago should’ve been enough to mend the rift between them.

but nate knows too well that time doesn’t heal all wounds. he knows the origin of the saying is locked away somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, but he’d rather not think about how much he’s lost because of time.

it doesn’t heal, but it does provide distance.

a human-sized distance he desperately wishes didn’t exist.

* * * * * lyra’s done nothing but put unit bravo out of mind for the past few months, working diligently with agency researchers and hoping that space and time would force her feelings to pass.

for the most part, she thought she succeeded. it was easy enough to bury her head with work. in the windowless rooms she practically lived in, it was even easier to lose track of the days that turned into months.

but time still has a way of simultaneously moving too slow and speeding up when she least expects it.

and for brief moments, she thinks she understands her mother a bit better.

shut out an old life and it distracts from the pain.

she supposes there’s no need for the agency facility to track time in human hours, considering most supernaturals don’t need to sleep and everyone generally works around the clock.

truthfully, she enjoys the hourless days, her watches and old personal phone buried in a duffel bag somewhere.

except in those moments where time decides to remind her of its hold over human life and pull her down the road to memories shoved behind a door with loose hinges, creaking in the wind.

time, the friend who never calls except when they need something that takes too much, shoves memory after memory in her face and reminds her of all that she turned her back on – without a word of explanation.

just her leaving behind a couple of two-word sentences hastily scrawled with nate’s favorite pen and all of her things put into storage.

it’s a not-so-gentle reminder that time won’t let her forget and that the memory of a person is not beholden to their material possessions.

she knows this to be true when seeing a thick tome makes her long for those nights spent curled up in the library and walking by the training rooms takes her back to those combat lessons.

lyra presses her eyelids down to ease the stinging in the corners. the tears were supposed to stay behind with her things, that was the deal.

she wipes furiously at her cheeks while walking briskly towards the exit. she lets pure instinct take her down the familiar winding and hidden road through the woods, stepping out of her car just before the turn that would bring the warehouse into her sight.

she can feel their presence as she steps closer to the outside entrance, its dilapidated façade still the same and yet it now mirrors the ache in her chest.

the ache carries her forward until she’s speeding through to the inner doors, desperately seeking an answer to questions she’s still too afraid to ask.

but it isn’t fear that has her throwing the door open and panting to catch her breath, oblivious to the conflicted emotions swirling in front of her.

“i’m still not over you.”

the words ring loud and true in the otherwise quiet living room, both vampires attuned to her rapid heartbeat and pointedly avoiding each other’s gazes with practiced ease.

adam makes to leave, fists clenched tightly at his side and the movement helps nate find his voice.

“who were you speaking to, lyra?”

her name tumbles with hesitation from his lips, the tender familiarity of the sound is one he hopes to remember in its purest form, when he used to punctuate it with darling.

acknowledging the distance between them might begin to taint it but he says it anyway, his heart leaping slightly at the glimmer of hope in her eyes before dread quickly draws it back into place.

nate’s warmth and adam’s steadiness immediately draw her in and lyra grips the doorframe a little tighter in futile resistance. she knows now without a doubt that no amount of distance will lessen the pull.

but maybe time will.

after all, time is a human construct. creating the space to heal, to grow, to learn, and to love.

and vampires have all the time in the world.

* * * * * taglist: @kelseaaa; @anotherbeingsworld; @wayhavenots; @gingerbreton; @gloynporslen; @sosolenoo; @writer-ish; @alyssalauren; @takemyopenheart; @pearlsandsteel; @babycracker; @mevnraels; n sewell: @missameliep;

[hawkinsindiana]

i don’t want you to worry

ALMOST PARADISE: PART THREE - CHAPTER ONE OF ELEVEN (?)

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 3.8k

a/n: six months later, here’s part three! i’m not gonna lie to y’all, i have no idea how many chapters there are gonna be or if it’ll get updated regularly, but fuck it. i’ve been sitting on this for a while and figured we could use a bit of levity! thank you for your patience! hope you enjoy! lmao i didn’t feel like making a gif pls forgive me

masterlist

Fog is hovering just above the ground; you can practically feel how thick and wet it is against your skin. The hairs on the back of your neck all stand as a gust of wind flows through the air - the freezing temperature makes you shiver.

The ground is wet, squelching underneath your sneakers as you move forward, still uncertain of where you are; the environment’s been completely coated in the dense fog. When your surroundings finally begin to clear a bit, your heart starts to race in fear once you recognize where you are. 

It’s the junkyard.

“Stay close, yeah?” 

The voice sounds like it’s right inside your ear, but at least he’s here - you’d recognize him anywhere.

Steve’s to your left, bat slung effortlessly over his shoulder, and his presence helps calm your nerves. You won’t have to face this alone. 

You want to thank him before the situation gets any worse, but your mouth won’t cooperate. All you’re able to reply with is a nod. 

Suddenly, the palm of your hand feels heavy with the weight of your weapon; Steve presses on, moving through the space to approach the threat that lurks beyond. A form begins to take shape behind the grey clouds, hunched down on all fours as it stalks towards your position. Your fingers tense as you prepare to fight and adrenaline begins to overtake you, until the silhouette rises onto two legs. It’s not supernatural, it’s human. 

You want to call out to Steve, tell him to fall back because it’s too dangerous but your voice still doesn’t work - you can’t warn him what’s coming. The soles of your shoes dig into the ground as you run to catch up with him, fingers extended out to grab and yank him away. 

But it’s too late. One moment he’s right there in front of you, the next he’s gone, vanished right before your eyes. You blink.

On the ground, Steve’s in the dirt, blood spilling from his face; Billy Hargrove quickly approaches.

And then, it’s just like that night. You’re unable to move, unable to save him as Steve tries to fight back but Billy’s too quick. His crimson colored fists are tearing skin with each impact until the brunette boy on the ground is lifeless, as if all warmth was drained right from him. Billy’s twisted grin never falters as he relishes in your pain, tears streaming down your face until-

You wake with a gasp, body jolting, hands shaking. 

God, it feels so real, like you’re still there; your nose can smell the disgusting metallic scent from the blood, skin still chilled from the temperature, veins still threaded with adrenaline. 

That was only a dream… right?

As soon as that thought is introduced to your worried mind, you throw off the covers before grabbing the nearest hoodie off the bed post. Tugging it over your head, your bare feet skid across the hardwood floor as you rush to the phone in the living room. 

Your fingers are trembling as you press the buttons of the number; you have to know if he’s okay. You have to confirm it was just a dream.

“Fuck, Steve,” You start to mutter to yourself, counting the rings to attempt to steady your breathing, “Come on, pick up, pick up.” 

The longer it takes, the more nervous you become. The darkness that surrounds you starts to close in, and when you squeeze your eyes shut, the image of him bloodied and lying dead in the dirt haunts you. 

“I swear to Christ - Dustin, if that’s you and those bozos again, I’ll come kick your ass myself,” Steve’s voice, tired and very irritated, comes through the speaker.

“Steve! Oh my god-” The back of your throat starts to burn at the feeling of tears welling up; the relief crashes over you in a wave, “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“What? Jesus-” He pauses, his tone softens once he hears it’s you, “Why wouldn’t I be okay? It’s nearly-”

Steve stops again; you reckon it’s to glance at the time.

“Shit, sweetheart it’s nearly two in the morning, what’s goin’ on?”

You sigh, finally realizing that you must’ve awoken him, “Fuck I just-”

The phone is gripped tighter in your hands as you speak, “I really just needed to know that you're okay. It’s stupid, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry-“

“No, no it’s okay-”

“But I-”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me,” Steve’s reassurance helps to slow your pounding heart; he’s okay. He’s safe at home. 

There’s nothing to worry about anymore.

You repeat that to yourself multiple times, whispering it to yourself under your breath. At this point, you think that you’d do anything to forget that night. 

Your back slides down the wall as your body grows exhausted from the severe reaction; Steve’s voice continues through the phone, “Did something happen?”

“I had-” You force a deep breath through your lungs, face scrunching in fear at the memory, “I had a really bad dream, Steve.”

Your arm wraps around your knees to pull them into your chest, forehead coming down to meet them and dig into the soft material of your pants, “I woke up and fuck, I was so scared. I was so scared and all I could think to do was call you. And I’m all alone. I’m all by myself tonight and I hate that I can’t be alone anymore. And I haven’t slept through the night in weeks-”

“Weeks? What do you mean weeks? I mean - I knew you weren’t sleeping well right after, but Christ it’s been nearly two months!”

You curse at yourself for rambling, words suddenly escaping your mind as you hesitate to respond. With your silence, Steve huffs; you can imagine the disappointment and worry over his face, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You bite down on your lip before answering, only letting up on the pressure when the taste of blood touches your tongue; you’re ashamed of the answer, “I don’t know… I’m sorry, Steve.”

All you feel is guilt in the moments that follow. Something like this… dreams about him dying in front of your eyes isn’t something that should be kept from him. 

“Hey,” Steve’s soft tone reels you back in, “You call me whenever you have to. I’ll always pick up, okay?”

You exhale as you nod, before remembering that he can’t see your reaction through the phone, “Okay, yeah. Thank you.”

“Of course, anytime. Are you okay?” 

You weave the phone cord between your fingers, “I’m better now. Uh, I’ll let you go then.”

“Okay. Try to get some rest, for my sake,” Steve pleads. You twist the cord tighter, “I will.” 

He sighs at your oath, finally able to relax a bit more, “Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight, if it’s too much. Or if you’re tired… ” 

You hum at his words, head leaning back against the wall. A smile creeps over your lips at his consideration, wishing that you could thank him in person for his words, “No, no let’s do something. It’ll be good for me.” 

He laughs a bit; even with how horrible the quality might be through the receiver, it still makes your stomach flutter with butterflies, “Okay, good. I’ll see you tonight. Get some sleep.”

“I’ll try, Steve.”

After wishing him a good night, you place the phone back onto it’s base. Standing up on wobbly legs, a shaky exhale leaves your lungs when your fingers remove themselves from the smooth plastic. The image of him is still there when you blink.

Fuck - you should’ve told him.

—

Three taps against the window pane startle you awake. Rubbing your eyes as you sit up, you check the time - you were only able to finally fall asleep twenty minutes ago. Anxiety starts to creep over the back of your neck - until you see the culprit. 

“Jesus…” You mutter to yourself. You can’t help the small smile that erupts over your face at the sight of Steve, fingers nervously drumming on the window sill. His expression relaxes a bit once you come over, and you’re already rolling your eyes as you move to pull it open.

“You know that I’m the only one home, right?” 

Steve nods, not following your logic, “Yeah? And?”

“You could’ve just come to the door, Steve.”

The boy in front of you shifts at your words; his retort stutters as he tries to come up with an excuse, “Okay, alright. But you know, I didn’t want to scare you or anything!”

You step back to cross your arms over your chest, “And coming to my window while I sleep seems a whole lot better to you?”

“Alright whatever, Henderson,” He answers quickly, waving off your tone, “Will you just let me in already?”

You gesture for Steve to enter, laughing quietly to yourself as he does. As soon as he’s crawled his way through the opening, you latch and lock the window closed. He huffs, “You have no idea how thrilled I am that your house only has one floor.”

“Did you drive across the neighborhood just to scare me?” You ignore him, pulling the cord on the lamp by your bedside. The light illuminates the worry on his face.

“No, I just-” Steve pauses as he fiddles with his keys, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. I had to know you were okay.”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest once again, “Y-yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Steve’s brow raises at your deflection, “Um, did we not have the same conversation over the phone?”

“We did,” Your answer is laced with a bit of aggression, “You didn’t need to come all the way over here, okay? I’m fine now-”

“But are you?” Steve interrupts. His voice is genuine, soft, and you want to spill everything because he has that look in his eye; you’re not sure you can push him away forever.

“Of course, Steve-”

“Don’t lie to me,” Steve puts more force behind his words - it’s like a demand. He takes a few steps closer, “Please don’t lie to me.”

Hearing Steve plead with you like that makes your heart shatter. It’s killing him to watch you stand before him like this. He’s known you long enough to know when something’s not right, and he’s gotten especially good at reading you over the past few weeks. And by the way your jaw clenches, Steve knows you’re about to crack.

A shaky inhale comes through your lips; you have to tell him something. But how much?

“I just… I don’t want you to worry,” You mutter. Your voice is just above a whisper, although it doesn’t matter; it’s not like there’s anyone home to overhear. You’re scared to admit there’s something wrong. He shouldn’t have to do this for you.

Steve almost laughs. He runs his free hand through his hair, “It’s like, a year too late for that, you know.” 

You sigh, realizing that he’s absolutely right. Of course he should worry, especially with how vague the conversation over the phone was. Letting him in is something that you’ll have to get used to.

Even though you’d been friends for a while, it was always more about him than you. You always wanted to be there for him, if he ever needed anything, how he was doing. It’s something neither of you understood was happening until your relationship became more; it was no one’s fault. 

All of a sudden, Steve realized just how much you’ve done for him - he’s wanted to return the favor. And this… is all new to you; you’re not used to someone checking in. 

“Oh god, you’re right,” You mumble under your breath. Your hands come up to cover your eyes in shame as you continue, “I’m sorry, Steve. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

Witnessing your sudden change in mood, Steve moves towards you; he sets his keys down on your nightstand as he does. He goes to reach for you, pulling your body into his, “Hey hey, it’s okay, it’s fine.”

He wishes he could come up with something better to say. You’ve always been better with words than him. You’re better at a lot of things than him. But he’s trying - he’s trying to be better to be worthy of you.

Your arms wrap tightly around him once Steve’s pressed against you. He smells like freshly washed cotton, like pulling sheets from the dryer when they’re still warm.

It’s all so overwhelming, it makes you want to cry. You feel like you should, but the familiar burn behind your eyes never comes. Instead, you resume speaking.

“I guess I just…” You trail off, wanting to give him a reason - he deserves one.

Your fist knots the fabric of his tee; Steve’s palm slides up over your back, “I’m just not used to leaning on others for help. I’m trying to get used to it.”

“Sometimes it’s okay,” Steve’s reply is muffled by your hair. He ponders what to add, lips pressed into a firm line as he thinks, “Sometimes you gotta do stuff on your own and sometimes you need somebody else. That’s just how life works.”

Your chest heaves as you sigh at the weight of his words, this moment cements a single fact inside your brain - you won’t plan on hiding anything from him.

Well, except for that one thing. You’re still not ready to admit that to him yet. 

You wish that pulling away didn’t mean losing his warmth; but his gentle eyes meeting yours mimics a feeling like it that fills your chest. 

“You can lean on me, you know,” Steve says, and the smile that was already pulling at your lips widens even farther. And then he nudges you - his mouth curls into that stupid smirk of his, “However you want.”

You crack a laugh, accompanied by a roll of your eyes, “Yes, I know. Sometimes I just need a little reminder."

Suddenly, you remember just how lucky you are to have him. How fortunate you are to have him there to brighten your darkest moments, even if he’s sometimes battling his own demons at the same time. 

“Thank you,” You say, bringing your gaze back to meet Steve’s again. He nods slightly, tone genuine and soft as he answers, “Of course. Anytime.”

The pads of your fingers graze over his cheekbone before tucking a strand of brunette hair behind his ear; Steve shivers a bit at the gentle touch before you meet his lips in a kiss.

He still gets a bit nervous each time, only because this feels so much more different than the others. The level of comfort and security he feels when you’re in the room was never there before he met you. Like really met you.

And you - well, you’re still so overwhelmed that you finally, after all that time, get to be with the one you love - you feel like you could jump out of your skin with joy. You’ve treasured every single moment, because it’s never been lost on you how it all could be taken away in an instant.

The brilliant grin you two share after pulling away shakes it all from your mind. Your fingers move to grip his hands in yours; you just like being able to do it, even if it is in the privacy of your own bedroom.

But then that feeling settles in your stomach, the one that doesn’t go away until morning. The dread that something’s going to happen. Steve can sense your growing anxiety - it’s almost like the air surrounding you changes. Leaving you now, something about that doesn’t sit right with him.

“I’ll uh, stay if you want.”

He mentions the idea quietly because, well, you’re not officially together. But to be fair, he hasn’t asked - but neither have you. Even though your hands are still in his, pressing into his skin, Steve finds it important to ask and make sure you’re on the same page.

You can’t lie - the idea of Steve spending the night makes you a little nervous. Although, knowing that you’re safe with each other might just be the push you need to relax. And with that thought, you’re stepping away from him, “Okay. Yeah, sure.”

The doorknob is so cold against your skin as you exit to grab an extra pillow from the closet in the hallway. The darkness of the living room seems to go on forever; it almost feels like something’s creeping up your neck once your back is turned to it.

After quickly shutting the door once you’re back inside, you turn around to see Steve, perched silently on top of your comforter - his presence warms the entire room, bringing life and love into it.

He hasn’t spent that much time in this space; he’s trying to take everything in, because it’s very reflective of you. There are neat piles of VHS tapes and comics on top of the dresser, a closet dominated with dark colors and sneakers, and some of your well worn denim tossed over the desk chair.

But his eye catches on a stack of photographs on the desk’s surface, and he’s halfway across the room before you can interject. You clutch the pillow a little tighter to your chest as Steve flips through them, laughing at one of you and Dustin from a few years ago at Christmas wearing matching pajamas.

He spins to show it to you, “I’m never gonna let him live this down.”

You approach his side when he finds another one of you as a child, playing with a cake battered spatula in your previous house. Baby curls framed your face, and your eyes were wide with adventure and wonder, “Holy shit, look at you!”

“I don’t know why I remember that day so much,” You mutter.

Steve’s silence pushes you to continue, “It was Mom’s birthday, and my grandparents baked her a cake - double chocolate I think. I wasn’t tall enough to reach but I wanted to help so badly. So they sat me on top of the counter and let me mix everything. They even let me tell her that I made it.”

You laugh quietly before the memory turns cold in your mind, and your wistful smile turns to a slight frown, “I haven’t seen them since we moved here.”

Steve isn’t even looking at the picture anymore. He listened to every word that left your mouth; you don’t speak much about the rest of your family. Instead of trying to probe further, he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, a gentle and silent reminder of his support.

This feels strange. Opening up to him like that, making yourself that vulnerable - that’s a level of intimacy you haven’t explored quite yet. At least not with him… or anyone really.

Thankfully, it hasn’t seemed to scare him off. If anything, Steve’s more relaxed. He likes knowing how you feel.

Steve flips through the others while you rest your chin on his shoulder, your eyes intently watch his reaction to each one - you think you could stay in this moment forever.

And then he comes across one - an image of you and the kids on Halloween a few years back all dressed like Jedi. He pauses on it, “When do you think we should tell them?”

A sharp inhale comes through your nostrils at his comment; you hadn’t thought about that.

In all your bliss, you had completely forgotten - no one else knows. Not even your brother.

“Oh God, Steve-” You start, removing yourself from him, “I don’t even know how we would do that.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve replies, turning back to meet your gaze, “We just… tell them. It’s not rocket science.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you answer, clenching the pillow a bit tighter in your grasp, “It’s really not that simple with them, Steve. You know that. And honestly, I still feel like I’m trying to figure out how to do all this.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair, knowing just how messy involving the kids could make your relationship, “I’ve kinda liked it just being about us. You know, we’re together because we wanna be, it’s not for anyone else. And trust me, they’ll have so many opinions-”

“So let’s keep it to ourselves then,” Steve interjects, shrugging his shoulders a bit as he answers, “We’ll tell ‘em when we think it’s right, when we’re sure if this is serious or not.”

You hated keeping your feelings for him a secret. You hated that you were never able to tell him, but this is different. The idea sends a rush of excitement through your veins, you can’t deny it.

He smiles a bit and sets the photos down before continuing, “I know it might be too early to tell, but I feel like this could last, you know.”

You feel blood rise into your cheeks when he looks at you like that - irises filled to the brim with admiration. His hands come up to cup your face as you reply, “Me too.”

Steve leans in to drink a slow kiss from your lips, the kind that leaves you breathless when it’s over.

“Good,” He mutters, earning a small grin from you. Steve takes the pillow out of your grasp, “What do you say we try and get a couple hours of sleep in? I guess Dustin wants to go to the arcade before lunch.”

You laugh, pushing your hair back away from your face as you answer, “I will never be able to get used to that, I’m sorry.”

Steve tosses the pillow onto the empty spot on the mattress while you pull back the comforter. The bed dips as you both settle under the covers; Steve’s arm starts to slide over your waist before stopping abruptly, “Is this okay?”

You clear your throat, “Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

The darkness washes over the room after you pull the cord to the lamp; it doesn’t feel as scary with Steve lying behind you. His touch stops your mind from wandering as it so often does - it can’t concoct anything to torment you with.

That being said, the sight from the earlier nightmare does appear behind your eyelids when you blink.

“It was about you,” You mutter, “The dream.”

It’s spoken before you can stop yourself. You instantly regret it, due to the lack of a reply that follows.

But then Steve tugs you closer, and you feel like you could melt against him. He tucks his nose right underneath the base of your hairline, deeply inhaling as you relax into him.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles against your skin; your fingers curl around his as a quiet thank you.

Steve thinks that this is probably what home is supposed to feel like - warm clothes, the scent of your shampoo, a comfortable silence to lull you both to sleep. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more comfortable.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, the pair of you have finally found a bit of peace.

—

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[thegeneralguy]

The Champion of Olympus - Poseidon´s Passion

Out of all the three realms connected to the earth, the sea was by far the most extensive one. An entire underwater universe lurked beneath the surface, with more diversity in its inhabitants than both heaven and earth. Poseidon was the ruler of that realm, with the responsibility of maintaining the planet itself in balance. Oceanic currents and tectonic movement were crucial for the mortals´ survival. The god of the sea had inherited the realm after the Titanomachy, given to him by the true embodiment of the sea, Oceanus. He and his titan spouse had given birth to many of the phenomena Poseidon had to keep in check.

But the normally boisterous god was unusually quiet, sitting down in his chariot heading back to the cold depths of his kingdom. The words of his brothers resonated within him. Could it really be possible for Typhon to escape? And more importantly, would he be able to protect all the creatures under his rule? Keeping balance was Poseidon´s primary priority, which made the whole situation even more alarming for him. He took the reins tying the hippocampi pulling his chariot and pressured them to move faster. He had to reach the Oceanic Retreat, also known as the sunken city of Atlantis, to consult with the court about his next course of action.

The palace was located in the center of the underwater capital, adorned with bright gems and bright colorful coral. The city was so deep under the sea, it was unreachable by Apollo´s power. But despite the lack of sunlight, luminescent beings shone brightly to light the streets and buildings. Poseidon´s chariot floated over the gates of the palace and parked on one of the numerous sea gardens, which were filled with creatures and coral normally found on superficial reefs. Triton, Poseidon´s heir, and most trusted advisor greeted him from the gates of the palace.

"That bad huh?"

He asked as soon as he caught a glimpse of the god´s grim visage. The muscular deity approached his son carrying his massive trident with ease, the muscles in his arm pulsing with supernatural strength. The strength to make the earth shake and the ocean rise. Both gods rushed inside the palace to his throne room, while Poseidon put Triton up to date. The young deity was eager to learn the ways of Olympus, for when it was his turn to rise to the throne, so he listened carefully every time his father complained about their extended family.

"How fitting of uncle Zeus to find a way to try to compete with all of you. But if what he and Hades said is right, then we have no time to waste."

"It won´t be so easy son. Our job is to keep balance, and granting divinity to a mortal can very much upset the natural equilibrium of the planet. Just remember where we´re standing right now."

The city of Atlantis, once a thriving metropolis of the ancient world, had fallen victim to the whims of a fallen hero´s delirium and a heavenly dispute. After being defeated by the patron city of Poseidon´s niece, the Atlanteans fell into despair. They managed to get the favor of the god of the sea, who granted power beyond belief to their heroic leader. But this human wasn´t meant to rise as a new god, so the rest of Olympus rejected him, and punished the city by sinking it to the depths of the ocean.

While Triton pondered on his father´s worries, they reached the throne room. A glowing golden throne adorned with all kinds of underwater flora and fauna was in the center of the room, surrounded by a half-circle of different chairs more modest, but still ornamental to symbolize the sea´s royalty. Poseidon stood in front of his throne and slammed the enormous trident on the ground, producing an explosive sound that resonated within the entire ocean.

After a couple of seconds, the god of the sea´s call was answered by the most prominent figures in the oceanic realm. A representative for both the Oceanids, sea nymphs and the Potamoi, the rivers of the world, were the first to appear. Poseidon´s spouse Amphitrite also arrived fast and took her place right next to her husband. Polyphemus came next, the representative for the cyclops who were all devoted to the god of the sea. The old man of the sea, Nereus himself, showed up next. His relationship with Poseidon was more like a truce than a hierarchy, but Nereus´ connection to the ocean realm´s mortal creatures, including his daughters, was a good reason to keep him as an ally. The last one to show up was Styx, the embodiment of the river of the same name coursing through Hades´ realm.

As the court of the sea assembled, Triton took his seat on the right of his father and watched as the gigantic god paraded his muscular physique floating across the room.

"As some of you may know, I was summoned by Zeus for an emergency meeting. It seems the original monster is trying to break free from Tartarus. Is that true Styx?"

Automatically all eyes turned to the river´s seat expectantly. After Hades and the chthonic gods, the underworld river was supposed to know all the happenings of the realm.

"I have heard some rumors, but Lord Hades hasn´t told me anything. Things feel pretty normal in the underworld though. I haven´t sensed any fluctuations within my currents, which are pretty sensitive for any changes in the realm."

"That's very strange, but the fates wouldn´t lie. There is no way they would fall victims of a simple rumor."

Answered Poseidon meditating on the river´s answer. Styx was known to be direct and efficient, seeking to form a bridge between the realms so mortal souls reached their resting space safely. It wouldn´t bother to try and deceive the rest of the deities, especially on such a delicate matter. But then, who was lying? Triton raised from his seat and continued talking, trying to explain the situation his father was telling him about a couple of minutes ago.

"It seems the king of the gods has called for a new Champion to be chosen."

"Is that true Poseidon?"

Asked Amphitrite looking at her husband with worry in her eyes. Poseidon´s days of violence ended eons ago, and she was worried a heavenly competition like the trial of the Champion was going to get the worst out of her husband again.

"Zeus commanded each of the twelve Olympians to choose a champion. As you can imagine, I´m very reluctant to do so again."

Answered Poseidon with a serious tone. The last thing he wanted was to put his subjects through another catastrophe, but something smelled fishy in the whole situation. He wasn´t keen on trusting his family, but the odds were too high. He had to assume the worst in order to prepare. Nereus rose from his seat, his long white beard filled with barnacles floating around him, and talked in a raspy voice that sounded like a shipwreck crashing in the bottom of the sea.

"You have to make a choice Poseidon. We cannot risk Typhon getting out, it would mean extinction for our kind. Your newfound love for balance will have to wait until this situation is resolved."

"How dare you tell me how I should act old man. Remember I am the god of the sea, one of the twelve Olympians, and your ruler. I know what is best for my kingdom."

Growled Poseidon angrily, as his trident caused the floor to shake with fury. Nereus smirked slightly, knowing he reached the god´s weakest spot: his authoritarian nature. No matter how he tried to hide it, Poseidon was infatuated by battle and carnage. And he was going to demonstrate to all the sea that the king still had the will of expanding the realm. A Champion of the sea on earth would create the perfect opportunity to take over the terrestrial plane.

"Leave the sentimentalism aside Poseidon. You have to make a choice. Will you risk the present´s balance to secure the future?"

Everyone looked at the silent god of the sea. Poseidon hated Nereus, but he was right. Balance is not worth it if the future is put in doubt. He had made his choice. As hard as it was, he had to gift a mortal again with divinity. Triton stared worriedly at his father. The advisor knew what his king was capable of, and it scared him. But in the end, the risk had to be worth the benefits. He reached to touch his father´s giant shoulder.

"Father…"

Poseidon then raised his trident, as a powerful twisting current propelled him upwards, going through the open roof and heading for the surface. If his brothers wanted a Champion, they were going to have one. For the sake of the ocean, and the balance of the future.

  It was a peculiarly cold day on top of the St. Helena frigate. Ltjg. Gabo Ramirez was making his usual rounds on the top deck, making sure everyone was doing their respective tasks. The young man had joined the navy in hopes of finding some stability in his chaotic life. He had always felt attracted to the sea, its vast expanse offering the peace of mind that a problematic orphaned child needed. Growing up on the coast let him escape very often to meet his secret lover. He got infatuated when he was very young, and his mother was still alive. She took him to the beach every day to collect different treasures like seashells or pieces of broken coral in order to make jewelry out of them. Young Gabo felt proud he was helping support his widowed mother.

His father was a fisherman, but he barely had any memory of him, because he died when Gabo was barely a toddler. His mother told him his fishing ship sank during one of the common hurricanes predating on the beautiful Caribbean coast. But even though the sea had taken one of his progenitors away, Gabo couldn´t help but fall deeper in love with it. As he grew up, money grew tight. His mother tried desperately to provide for her son, so he could go to school and do something with his life. Life pushed her to more desperate means, selling herself so her son could have a future. In the end, things turned out grim for the poor boy.

He still remembered the stormy night when someone knocked on the door of their little apartment. A tall police officer told him the bad news. They found her on a bench close to the harbor. His mother died trying to protect her son. His childhood ended on that instant, and he was thrown down an administrative rabbit hole that turned his life into a living nightmare. He jumped from orphanages to foster homes over and over again. He felt like the world had betrayed him, taking his greatest love away from him. The sweet child turned into a sour teenager, who caused trouble and mischief wherever he went. His only refuge was still the sea. After all that had happened, it was the only place where Gabo felt grounded and alive. After his mother passed away it became his greatest love.

After he miraculously made his way through school, he decided to leave Puerto Rico and enlist in the U.S. navy. He was conscious his life needed to take a turn for the better, so he was mentally prepared for whichever challenge the tough military system was going to throw at him. The problem was, he was not physically ready for them, struggling through the first years of training. A life of chaos had left him with a scrawny underfed body, which was agile enough to get him swiftly out of trouble, but not strong enough to face it.

He remained adamant on his decision, and he endured the painful years of training, swallowing his deep survival instinct of fleeing before he was entirely committed. Gabo was used to swiftly getting out of trouble, thanks to his more cowardly nature. But he studied hard, put his life on track, and was rewarded for it. Now he got to spend a life together with his love, the sea, watching its waves flow into the horizon. A blue paradise extended before him.

Ltjg. Ramirez diverted his gaze from the ocean and went back to realizing his tasks to their full extent. The frigate was on standby close to the arctic sea, between Greenland and Europe, so there wasn´t a lot to do. The wind outside was pretty cold, nothing but dark water and a few small icebergs in the surroundings. He went back into the ship to finish his active shift and get something to eat in the cafeteria.

"Hey, Ramirez! Come here, we´re playing poker. This asshole has been running his mouth about beating you all afternoon!"

Said Lt. March calling him to one of the tables, where some of his crewmates were gathered. The person running his mouth was Lt. Krass. He and March were Ramirez´s superiors, but they had grown to like the mousy kid. His skills in gambling were known on the whole ship and made his crewmates and some of his superiors very interested in testing his skills. Life on the streets had taught him everything he needed to know to be a good gambler, and he had a good poker face to finish his killer combination.

"I can gladly take all your money off of you sir."

Said Ramirez laughing as he sat on the table to play with the cards. Sailors had to enjoy every second of interaction, or else they started suffering some mental issues that came with the constant isolation and lack of new stimuli.

"I´m telling you kid if you didn´t look like a toothpick I would´ve beaten your ass for taking a week´s worth of salary."

Said the much bigger Lt. March in an intimidating way, but just with the right amount of joyfulness to let Gabo know he was joking. He could probably pick the small junior lieutenant and throw him overboard if he felt like it.

"Give him a break March. It´s not his fault you´re a dumb player. Besides, I´ll get that money and will take you to a nice bar with it when we touch land again."

Laughed the equally big Krass punching his mate on the shoulder. In fact, Ramirez was probably the smallest man on board. The 24-year-old barely made the height cut on the recruiting process, and although he had gained some muscle mass from the rigorous training, it wasn´t enough to get close to his crewmate´s giant sizes. But his appearance was what caused his crewmates and superiors to gain a certain fondness for the young recruit. He was the runt of the litter.

After a while of laughing at Krass´s dumbfound expression as Ramirez managed to beat him and take all his money as well, the boys called off the night and everyone was in their chambers by curfew. Ramirez laid on his bed feeling the soft movement of the waves rocking his bed, enjoying the sensation. He thought about his mother and the beach in his childhood, as his memories carried him to deep sleep, completely ignorant of the approaching menace on the cold waters of the ocean.

 All sailors woke up at five in the morning, swiftly getting out of bed and lining up to clean themselves. Gabo woke up agitated. He had a strange feeling, but he couldn´t exactly distinguish what was going on. He also had strange dreams that night, about a giant black whale stalking the tumbling frigate, whilst he watched powerlessly from the deck of the ship.

"Not a very good night kid? It must be that guilty conscience for stealing from your favorite superior."

Said Lt. March, who was directly in line in front of him. Ramirez managed to get a nervous laugh out.

"It´s nothing, sir. Just a bad dream."

March looked at him with concern. He really cared for the well being of his subordinates, and he was worried being on the sea for so long was starting to take its toll on the novice sailor. He knew the young junior lieutenant was very passionate about his work, but he was still inexperienced to recognize the effects of long-term isolation.

"Listen Ramirez. I´m your superior, but we´re a team. There´s not a lot to do today, so why don't you take it easy just for a day."

The young recruit smiled broadly at the big man in front of him.

"Thanks, sir, but I can handle work. I know what I signed up for."

Lt. March smiled back, impressed at the discipline of his subordinate. This kid was going to go far he thought, as both made their way into the small shower cabin. While they were undressing, Krass approached March and whispered something to him quietly. Ramirez couldn´t hear a word, but judging by March´s expression it wasn´t good news. Krass then left the bathroom, and March turned around to face Ramirez. His big chest was inches away from Gabo´s face, and his lower part was tightly covered by a small towel.

It wasn´t a secret Ramirez was into both men and women. All his crewmates respected his orientation and felt comfortable around him. So much they didn´t mind parading themselves naked from time to time, testing the young recruit´s self-control. It was harder in the beginning, but now Gabo was used to it, casually having conversations with his fellow naked sailors. He still enjoyed the show, only silently and respectfully. He has had few sexual experiences in the past, but nothing to boast about. Still, his crew was untouchable for him, the comradery far outweighing the lust.

March was another story though. The man sported an impressive physique build through years and years of discipline and hard training. His chest was very prominent, followed by a big muscular gut that was still a couple of inches behind. Powerful arms capable of pulling even the heaviest anchor hung to his side, and tree trunk legs supported the almost 300 pounds man. He was also a good head taller than Ramirez, making the younger sailor a dwarf in comparison. Even though Ramirez tried his best, he couldn´t help but feel a certain level of attraction for the muscular man. After gawking at his superior´s body for enough time, Gabo looked up to hear what he was about to say.

"It seems there is a storm heading our way. It´s gonna be a full day of work after all Ramirez. You´ll get your chance to shine."

Ltjg. Ramirez never faced an open sea storm on his few months on board, so he didn´t know what to expect. A feeling in his gut was telling him to pretend he was sick to stay under the deck, but Gabo was no coward. He was going to do his work and prove why he was there among those big burly men. He finished showering and looked at himself in the mirror.

His dark brown hair was neatly cut in a conscription cut, perfectly square and short. His young face had a scar on his chin product of a street brawl a couple of years ago, but his features still retained the innocent look that came with youth. His beautiful light brown skin was free of any blemishes. His smooth body had slight muscle definition, but more because of little body fat than actual lean mass. He quickly glanced inside the towel to look at his manhood. He couldn´t be disappointed because there were smaller dicks around, but he was nowhere near to someone endowed. He was more like on the average to the low part of the scale. He was feeling good and confident about himself today. Gabo quickly put on his uniform and rushed outside to start his tasks for the day.

He headed up the deck to quickly brush the floors, check the analog temperature measurements and check that the lifeboats were in a good state. People quickly mobilized after news of the storm spread around. The captain made a formal announcement during lunch, telling the crew they should brace for the storm in the early hours of the night. No one seemed to be too scared about it, making their usual jokes and talking loudly lie every day. Still, the feeling in the pit of his stomach was starting to bother Ramirez. He had a bad feeling about today. And as a kid from the street, Gabo knew trusting his feelings was crucial for survival. The nerves were causing him to barely touch his food.

Lt. March noticed the kid staring quietly at his tray. It was unusual for the lively Latin kid to go dead silent, so he approached and sat down next to him.

"Don´t worry kid, it´s just a storm. Occupational hazards. It will be gone sooner than you think."

Even though Ramirez loved the sea, storms were always a cause of anxiety for him. He was reminded that a storm killed his father. And worse of all, a storm was raging the night he found out about his mother. Storms were a bad omen for him. He turned around to face the rugged, but the concerned face of his superior.

"I trust you, sir. It´s just I have a bad history with storms."

"I assure you kid, it´s gonna be a better night than one with you taking all my money."

The light-hearted joke made both men laugh, as the tense aura around Gabo dissipated. He trusted his lieutenant. He saw in him the father figure he never had. They finished eating their meal and dispersed around the ship to finish the preparations for the bad forecast. When the sun started setting down is when the dark clouds started gathering over the frigate. Strong winds pushed everything exposed to the surface, and increasingly agitated waves crashed against the ship, making the most remote corners of the shell creak under the water´s pressure. Ramirez finished his tasks on deck and looked to the horizon for the last time of the day. An ominous dark mass was approaching the ship. Little droplets started falling from the sky. They were the last preface of what was about to come. The junior lieutenant went back under deck quickly as the slow rain turned into a tempestuous downpour.

He found his crewmates in the cafeteria as usual, but there were no games this time. Everyone was eating quietly, expectant of the first order barked through the loudspeakers. March wasn´t there, nor Krass. Ramirez assumed that command was having a meeting about the current situation. He sat down on a corner with his tray, unable to take a bite. All his instincts were telling him to run, to get out of there swiftly, so he could survive. Ramirez was fighting his innate fleeing nature. He kept reassuring himself why he got enlisted, why he was doing everything he was told to. He wanted stability, he craved it. But a part of him didn´t want to leave his past self behind. It was what kept him alive for so long after all. But he couldn´t go back to fleeing from his problem. And most important of all he couldn´t let his crew know he was so scared. Bravery in the face of adversity was a virtue after all. This little sacrifice was for his future self, and no one else.

The sailors left the cafeteria quietly. One by one they retired to their chambers. Ramirez followed his crewmates and was able to go to bed early as he didn´t have any guard shift that night. He zoned out for a while, unable to reach deep sleep. After a few hours, around midnight, the alarm made him jump out of bed and get dressed. He got out of his chambers to see all his crewmates heading for the upper doors. The hallway was lit red, and a reverberating sound echoed through the passages of the frigate. Ramirez tried his best not to fall due to what he assumed was disorientation until the entire crew including him were thrown to the side. He wasn´t dizzy, it was the waves crashing against the ship that caused it to rock back and forth intensively.

When he made it to the upper deck, his fellow sailors were all running to their stations. Many went to prepare the lifeboats, while others reinforced the previously tied up materials so the storm couldn´t blow them again. Ramirez went to his emergency station next to the edge to secure the supplies he was supposed to. The sky was completely painted black, like the furious sea bellow him. Rain poured down intensively, and an icy wind blew with all force against the ship and its crew. Ramirez was freezing, his frail body more exposed thanks to its lack of body mass, and the tempestuous currents kept throwing him around like a little leaf during an autumn breeze.

A big wave crashed against the frigate, making the vessel lean completely to the opposite side. One of the crates on the opposite side of Ramirez got untied and came sliding fast towards the terrified recruit, who was holding on to the rails on the edge for his life. He turned around just on time to see the giant box charging against him, and closed his eyes preparing for the inevitable. He immediately heard his name echo in the distance and felt a powerful pair of hands push him from the back out of the crate´s trajectory. Ramirez looked back just in time to see his protector Lt. March flies off the board into the raging waters below.

"Lt. March!"

Screamed the tearful junior lieutenant. His fear was completely erased in an instant, triggering his quick reaction speed. He grabbed a safety rope next to him and without thinking he threw himself into the mouth of the beast. The black waters of the sea swallowed him whole. The only thing he felt was a bone-chilling sensation taking over his entire body, as he swam in the direction of his superior.

"Kid what are you doing here?! You crazy son of a bitch!"

Said March in a mixture of awe, anger, and gratefulness.

"It´s my duty to protect my crew lieutenant! Quick, grab the rope!"

He handed over the rope to the more experienced March, who started tying a strong knot so the crew could pull them out. Their brief moment of relief ended in an instant, as another giant wave stroke from their side this time, separating the young Ramirez from his lieutenant. The crew started pulling the rope, just to get only March back on board. The big man immediately perched on the edge and frantically searched with his eyes for the young subordinate.

"Ramirez! Ramirez!"

But only darkness remained, with no sight of the young recruit. Meanwhile, Ramirez struggled to swim against a powerful current. He considered himself a good swimmer, having grown close to the water. But no matter how hard he kicked and flailed, the underwater stream kept pulling him downwards. The cold was starting to numb his senses, as he let out a last bubble of breath and his unconscious body was dragged into the infinite abyss.

 Ramirez then woke up surrounded by complete darkness. He was laying on a rocky wet floor, dripping wet and feeling breathless. He coughed a couple of times, expelling a good amount of water out of his lungs. He stood up, but couldn't see anything around him. There was no breeze, no sound, absolutely nothing. He was about to take a step when a strong voice made him freeze in his tracks.

"Lt. Ramirez. I´ve been looking for someone like you."

"Who are you? Where am I?"

"Those questions don´t matter anymore child. You´re under my protection, that´s all that matters."

He then heard a resounding metallic sound against the rocky floor and was completely shocked by what he saw. The trident of the god of the sea emitted a powerful glow, which then seeped into the cracks on the bedrock bellow to illuminate Ramirez´s surroundings. He was inside a big air compartment under what it seemed to be the ocean, and in front of him was an extremely muscular man holding a giant trident. Poseidon then approached the young lieutenant, holding up his chin with his strong hand.

"You will do just fine. Your potential is unmeasurable, and you know the meaning of suffering and the price of balance. A noble soul like you will be of great use to me and my realm."

"I have to get back to my ship sir. Please help me, my crew is in danger."

Said Ramirez nervously while he scanned the god in front of him with his eyes. The prominent chest was probably as wide as Ramirez holding both of his arms to his sides, with strong protruding abdominal muscles supporting it. He had the biggest arms he had ever seen, even among the famous bodybuilders he always liked to watch on the internet. His lower body was even more powerful. He was only wearing the lower part of a short white robe, with gold accessories adorning his wrists and belt. Two penetrating blue eyes glowed like the deepest of oceans, set as the highlight of a rugged but beautiful face. The cherry on top was a luscious chestnut-colored beard falling right on top of his upper chest. Poseidon noticed the way this kid was looking at him and smiled broadly. He liked his ego stroked like all the gods.

"The ship was spared. But that passion is what I´m looking for. A loving protector, who is strong enough to crush anything on his way."

He pointed his trident towards the young lieutenant and smiled.

"Meet me on the base of Mount Olympus in Greece by the next full moon. I will grant you the true love of my kingdom, in exchange for your loyalty and strength. I´m counting on you."

A blue light came out of the trident, completely enveloping Ramirez. The cold sensation was gone, together with the exhaustion he felt before regaining consciousness. When the light faded, Poseidon was gone. The air bubble around him started popping, letting water in again. Ramirez was quickly swallowed by the ocean, having only time to briefly hold his breath. Once he could not hold it any longer, he coughed only to find out he was able to breathe normally underwater. He also thought about how he practically was immune to the pressure of the sea above him, not feeling any strain on his body.

He took off his uniform so he could swim better, leaving him only wearing the pair of black boxer shorts he had on, and started exploring his surroundings. The light the trident had infused on the ground remained there and formed a path leading the young sailor forward into the darkness. After swimming for a while, he found the strangest creature he had ever seen. A beautiful horse with the tail of a fish was waiting at the end of the illuminated road. The animal looked at Ramirez, and he immediately knew what he had to do. He floated towards the hippocampus, and rode on its back, grabbing its neck as the animal swiftly swam towards the surface.

He must have been pretty deep thought Ramirez because it took a long time until he saw the weak rays of sunlight replace the absolute darkness he was in before. He could feel the water caressing his body, but it opposed little resistance to the fast creature and the young sailor on top. It also wasn´t cold like before, but getting warmer the more the sea horse carried him through the vastness of the ocean. He was fascinated by its massive expanse and could feel its sheer power pulsating through the water.

They passed all kinds of sea creatures like schools of fishes, dolphins and even a few whales. Ramirez´s connection with the sea grew stronger, together with his love for it. He was so enthralled by the fascinating view in front of him that he missed the sensation the stronger current was causing on his body. The swirling water quickly surrounded him, tying him to the back of the hippocampus and constraining his limbs. Ramirez felt a dull pain product of the waters slowly pulling his limbs and spine further away from each other, rapidly adding inches to his height until the formerly short sailor reached a towering 7 feet height. The pulling didn´t stop there though, as each bone grew to form the canvas for the muscle that was coming in next.

The warm water caressed and massaged each individual muscle, transferring the titanic strength of the ocean to them. The legs holding on to the hippocampus started growing first. It looked like water was being pumped directly into his skin. Quadriceps strong enough to crush rocks between them formed on his upper legs, with edges carving themselves out of the gigantic muscles. His calves were pulled apart and rearranged by the current until two diamond-shaped calves replaced the former toothpick lower legs. His feet grew even bigger for a man his size, necessary for the swift propulsion underwater. The growth moved to his butt cheeks, the sensation finally making Ramirez aware of what was happening to him. He felt a strong cramp in his ass, as both glutei raised further and further from the back of the sea horse. His underwear strained to the maximum under the pressure of the new watermelon-sized ass cheeks.

Ramirez watched his lower body turn into the one of a card-carrying professional bodybuilder. The sensations invading his body were too intense for him to remain calm. He felt incredible awe for the creatures that were crossing through his sight. He felt the warm and pleasurable caress of the water on his body. He felt the strong rocking of the hippocampus´ swimming. And he felt a crushing pain as the pressure in the water reformed his body. He let go of the creature to grab his stomach in pain. He felt like the water was suctioning each individual brick in his abdomen out, and he was quickly left with a powerful eight pack cut into his midsection. His Adonis belt protruded out of his sides, and his serratus muscles carved themselves so deep it looked like the man had developed gills.

Ramirez then felt the current push him from the back of the sea horse, and the sailor fell to the back watching the creature swim away from him. He immediately began swimming trying to reach it, but his newly developed lower body still moved clumsily lacking the coordination needed to move such a heavy mass. Ramirez focused all of his strength on reaching the hippocampus when suddenly a strong water current propelled him forward and he was able to reach the creature. He then realized he was practically flying underwater, enjoying the freedom of moving like a torpedo through the ocean. He swam graciously together with the hippocampus, both dancing synchronized to the rhythm of the waters.

Small whirlpools formed around his brown nipples, sending waves of pleasure through the man and increasing their size to fit into the new gigantic chest that was about to come. His pectoral muscles squared on the lower end, and then pushed further out inflating like two water mattresses. The water was putting so much pressure on his upper body the sailor felt his bones were going to get crushed. Ramirez was left with a herculean chest powerful enough to fight the roaring waves of a tsunami. His shoulders were next, as each deltoid inflated bigger than cannonballs with enough strength to lift an anchor above his head.

He then felt the current pull his arms so hard he thought they were going to be ripped apart. The pressure in his muscles made him wince in pain, while his triceps dripped and grew like marlin´s dorsal fin, pushing the former noodles to the sides of his body, and his biceps inflated like water balloons about to pop due to their sheer size. Massive sinews formed on his upper arms, and his hands grew massively muscular, wide enough to push large amounts of water on a single stroke.

He examined both of his new arms when a cramp in his back made him bend forward and scream in pain. He felt the water vibrating on his spine, spreading the sensation to every muscle like a flare. The upper back started extending and rounding up like a turtle shell, and the lats on each side protruded so far, he looked more like a giant T instead of a V. His back was by far the strongest muscle on his body, designed to propel the new man through the chaotic waters with ease.

The current then swirled around his neck, starting to choke him. The traps raised to connect to his ears and complete the growth of the monstrous back. He could hear his grumble grow lower as his neck expanded with muscle, leaving his head looking like a tiny pin on a godly body. The pain was overwhelming the young sailor. He opened his mouth to let out a painful scream when suddenly water flowed into his body with intensity. Veins started popping out of his limbs, improving the oxygen saturation, and therefore endurance for the giant.

Large veins popped on his lower abdomen, and then he felt an excruciating pressure pushing behind his manhood. His penis then started inflating, far surpassing the limits of the already strained underpants, which were ripped off by the strong currents. His newly improved appendage kept growing and pulsing so much, Ramirez thought it was going to explode. It stopped growing at almost a foot in length, and a jaw-breaking girth. It looked like a glass bottle that was hanging from his legs. His balls were next, inflating to an equine size and falling heavy between his monstrous legs.

Male hormones combined with divine power started flowing through his body, boosted by the invading water current inside of him. He felt a cracking pressure on his head, which grew proportional to the new body size. His angular face grew more masculine, his jaw broadening into a thick square, and his brow pushing further over his eyes giving him a menacing look. His nose then cracked and widened, while his lips plumped a bit more. His already short dark brown hair retreated into his scalp, leaving him with a short buzz cut. The amount of testosterone in his body was so high, his hairline receded a little bit. His face was then invaded by a permanent shadow with the potential of growing a thick beard. The rest of his body sucked in his body hair, leaving his smooth. His beautiful brown skin darkened a bit more. His pores then started producing a small amount of oil, that gave him a shiny look and helped him oppose little resistance to the forces of the sea, making underwater travel far easier.

The current then stopped forcing its way into his body and released his limbs from their invisible shackles. Ramirez started touching his body incredulously, incapable of dimensioning the change he just went through. He felt the raw power of the sea pulse within him. He touched his face and felt his young skin under his fingers. His scar was gone too. The sight of the new man might have been bizarre, due to him still looking young despite his overwhelming masculinity. Ramirez was so distracted by his new body, that he missed the waters getting slowly more superficial and the hippocampus turning around and leaving back into the abyss.

The sailor propelled himself further into the shallowing waters when he was suddenly greeted by the figure of a beautiful young man sitting on an underwater rock. He couldn´t be older than the junior lieutenant, although his presence and demeanor felt older than civilization itself. His long hair flowed along with the current, glistening with silver light. He had the carved body of an Olympic swimmer, with defined and strong limbs made to love underwater and a very wide back developed from physical activity in the sea. He was also completely smooth, the only hair on his body remaining on his head, eyebrows, and long eyelashes. He beamed a white smile as radiant as the sun at the stranger.

Ramirez approached the young Adonis with a dumbfounded expression on his face. Even though his sexual experience was limited, he was very familiar with the feelings of lust invading his body. Only this time, they were overwhelmingly strong, almost clouding his entire conscience. The man got up from the rock and touched Gabo´s muscular chest.

"Father was right, you turned out better than expected."

He had a melodious hypnotic voice almost too beautiful to be coming out of a hunk like him. Ramirez looked down at the man caressing his body. His knees shook nervously, while he let himself be seduced by the apparition before him. But something in his mind suddenly snapped. He felt the pressure from before again, only this time inside his thoughts as if the water was rinsing the old cowardly nature of the sailor. For some reason, the situation didn´t feel right. He was the one supposed to be doing the seduction, not the other way around.

He took the young man from his legs and pulled him close to his body raising him to his same height. He then proceeded to passionately make out with the stud, both their tongues dancing in each other's mouth. Ramirez felt like sea spume was filling his head, making it harder and harder to focus. He started losing his grip on reality. Like waves carving and molding the strong rocks underneath, the magical power carved out a new man out of the young sailor. More and more dominance asserted itself into his persona, replacing the old more submissive nature. His body language was a dead giveaway of what was happening in his mind.

The sea hunk noticed how his lover´s kiss started to grow more aggressive, invading his mouth with a strong tongue. His big hands started squeezing the young man´s ass, ways of pleasuring a person during sex being engraved in his memory. Years of experience pushed their way into the new man, his face growing more rugged with lines of age and his body gaining more thickness that comes with years of labor. His giant manhood was already grown at full mast, stroking the cheeks of his prey like a sea serpent just before attacking and spreading his self-produced oil on his skin. The young man then guided the hard rod to the entrance of his body, pushing down ever so slightly to get the head in.

The hunk had been with many lovers before, but this was still considered to be a very big phallus. He carefully slid down in order to accommodate the muscular man´s size inside of him. Ramirez kept fighting the tide inside his head. He was scared of changing, of letting go of who he was. A part of him still wanted to flee and pretend none of this had happened. But remembering his hometown beach stopped his train of thought. He remembered the beautiful waters shining in the sunlight, of all the creatures dependent on them, from little crabs on the beach to the big metropolis of the world. The ocean´s ecosystem was the most important one in the world, and it had to be protected. The love he felt for the sea turned into a massive tidal wave inside of him that finally broke down all his mental barriers and completely dragged his old personality out of existence. He didn´t have to flee anymore, he possessed the strength to break the earth and part the ocean. He could destroy anything that got in his way of protecting what he loved.

Ltjg. Gabo Ramirez was reborn in the form of Gabriel, the name his mother had originally given him, and the new protector of the sea. The last bits of his personality evaporating like the sea breeze under the scorching sun. His young lover watched in awe as the eyes of the titan started to glow, and a deep blue color washed his former brown irises away. Once his manhood had entered the hunk completely, he started thrusting back and forth with the strength to shake the earth. He was a god among men, and he had the right to be pleased. Still, he liked to share the pleasure with his lovers, and care for them. He liked feeling like the strong protector he was born to be. The young sea hunk smiled broadly knowing the transformation was complete, and let himself be completely dominated and pleased by the titan inside of him.

 The sun was already setting when Gabriel came out of the warm waters. He wasn´t in the frosty northern sea anymore but the warm coasts of southern Greece. He was only wearing the bikini strap the young hunk had given him once they parted ways, along with a kiss and the promise of meeting him again. Gabriel looked at the vast sea before him and smiled. He was going to do whatever it took to protect his new home. He was going to honor his Lord´s will by conquering and crushing anything in his way. He still had a couple of days before the full moon, which should be enough to get to Mount Olympus. He then thought about all the life and all the pleasure he could have on his way. He was going to bless a lot of mortals with his sexual prowess. He took one last deep breath before heading inland, his nostrils filling with the salty smell of the sea breeze along with his own radiating masculine scent, his skin shimmering under the setting sun. The giant then disappeared into the prairie, ready for whatever challenge the world may throw at him.

In the distance sitting next to a cliff was Nereus, watching the newly chosen one walk towards his destiny. He found the Olympians obnoxious, but he had to admit they did a pretty fine handiwork. The new man looked like he jumped out of a perverted fever dream, with enough power to shatter the earth with each step.

"He really does feel like he looks, father."

A joyful voice said on the back. Nereus turned around to see his own son Nerites staring playfully at him. The young god loved to play around but was filled with respect for his father. The beautiful merman smiled broadly at the old man, who gave him an approving nod.

"Well done son. I knew Poseidon needed a little push. I´m glad to see his opus got your sign of approval."

"It´s going to be an interesting time after all. Life is just fun."

Said Nerites enthusiastically as both gods stared into the distance wondering about the Olympian´s intricate rivalries and plots in the sky.

[phantom-curve]

45 from the prompt list please for juke, happy Birthday to you!!!

Thank you! I clearly have not tortured these two enough so please enjoy this angsty Juke whump that ultimately has a happy ending because what other type of ending is there?! Set in a post-canon AU where Julie brings the boys back to life.

#45: feeling their temperature

Julie had been learning a lot about how to deal with various phantom related issues in the last few months. She had learned that the boys needed constant touch and reassurance that they were somehow solid to her, mostly in the form of Luke pulling her into a hug at the end of practice or Reggie throwing himself on top of her while she was sprawled out on the couch doing homework or Alex’s fingers just gently running across the back of her shoulders or the skin of her elbow when she would walk past him at any given time. She had learned that Luke missed meatball subs more than anything, and that Reggie was still sad that that one pizza place on the pier had shut down, and Alex secretly wished he could eat cheese one last time despite the way it had always made him sick when he was alive. She had learned that in the aftermath of their literal magical hug the boys had started getting tired enough to occasionally sleep again and sometimes they didn’t quite phase through things the way they used to and for some reason their poofing had become a touch unreliable.

She was trying to roll with it as much as she could, which was actually a lot given she’d kinda just been rolling with it ever since they appeared in her mom’s studio and turned her life upside down in the best way. But something she hadn’t planned for was illness.

It didn’t make sense, after all. They were ghosts. There was no reason they should get sick, especially given the fact that they weren’t, ya know, real physical entities unless she was touching them. So, it didn’t make sense that they were able to get fevers or sore throats or be congested. She hadn’t planned for it, had written it off as a definite impossibility. Until Reggie half-poofed into her bedroom, flickering in and out slightly so she only caught every other word.

“Julie! ...quick...Luke...not...good...need...help...please!”

And she went immediately, racing down the steps and out the back door to the studio before Reggie had a chance to appear in her bedroom again.

The boys looked absolutely exhausted as she crashed into the studio, Reggie collapsed in one of the chairs breathing heavily and Alex pacing so fast she was sure he was going to wear a groove into the concrete floor. Luke was stretched out along the couch, his face red and sweaty, and he was the only one that looked unhappy at her arrival.

“Julie, thank God,” Alex breathed out, his steps slowing ever so slightly as he made eye contact. “Luke is...sick? Do ghosts get sick? Is that possible? I tried to poof up to you but...it wouldn’t work. Why wouldn’t it work? Reggie said he kept flickering? Did you understand him, or did he just disappear? Oh God, why doesn’t the afterlife come with rule books!?!”

Reggie, bless him, tried to fill in some of the gaps.

“I dunno how much I was actually able to say up there, but something is wrong with Luke. We’re pretty sure he’s sick.”

“Am not!” Luke tried to yell from his spot on the couch, but he barely managed to get the two words out before he was doubled over gasping for air. As if any of them were actually breathing.

“He’s been like this all day.”

It didn’t take a genius or supernatural expert to see that Luke was not his normal bouncy self. Julie approached him slowly, not wanting to make things worse but desperate to affirm for herself that he was still here with her and would be okay at the end of whatever this was. Obviously, none of them actually knew if he would be, but at least if she was touching him, she would have the physical reassurance of his presence. She lowered herself next to his head, resting on her knees beside the couch. He turned glassy eyes her way, groaning and twisting over on his side so he was as curled into her space as he could be while still on the couch.

“Luke...?”

She tried desperately to keep the fear from her voice. The last thing the boys needed was for her to lose it, but she wasn’t sure she managed it. Losing the boys, losing Luke, was her number one fear since she had realized how much they all meant to her. It was a fear that had become even more real when she had watched them be nearly jolted from existence thanks to Caleb, her touch somehow being the one thing that had managed to save them. As if spurred on by that memory, she reached out to let one hand trail across Luke’s forehead and down to rest against his cheek. His skin was like fire beneath her touch.

“You’re burning up. Have you been hot like this all day?”

One side of his mouth tipped up, a half-hearted smirk curving his lips.

“I’m always hot, Jules. Didn’t think you’d ever notice.”

It took everything in her not to roll her eyes. But then Luke gasped and coughed, the sound deep and throaty in a way she hadn’t experienced since the time Carlos got pneumonia when he was little. She fluttered her fingers above him, not sure where her touch would be helpful or comforting. Luke reached up to snag her hands within his own, pulling them close against his chest. Julie tried not to focus on the way his skin seemed to be boiling beneath her.

“That cough doesn’t sound good. Have you taken anything? Ibuprofen, Tylenol, ice cold water??”

She was grasping at straws here. Whatever was going on with Luke was completely out of her wheelhouse, but she would be damned if she let some weak human virus or bacterial infection be his downfall. She had saved him from a goddamn demon’s curse, she could save him from this.

“No, Julie, I’m fine. I swear.”

His promise was cut off by another hacking cough. Julie tried to pull her hands back, if only so that she could use them for something other than just grasping onto Luke’s, but his grip held firm.

“Luke,” she tried again, pushing the tears she felt clogging her throat back, “you’re not fine. Please, I just...I need...there has to be something I can do.”

Their eyes met and held. She watched the way the emotions swimming in the sea of Luke’s gaze shifted and changed. Felt it deep within her soul when he decided to give up the façade and let her in.

“I don’t...it doesn’t feel right, Jules. It’s not like I’m sick, not like...”

Not like when he was human. The words hung unspoken between them. Julie felt her heart dive straight into her toes.

“Can we just...can you just...hold me?”

Luke’s voice came out in broken starts and stops, like the request was being dragged from his bones in a last-ditch attempt at satisfying a final craving before the very end. Julie thought her heart might explode, especially when her eyes searched his face and found nothing but longing and love etched into the pained lines there. It hit her then. He didn’t think this was something survivable. He didn’t think he was going to come back from this. Luke was facing the end, the actual end, and he wanted her at his side and in his arms when he went to meet his maker. The very idea ripped her soul in two.

“No, no, no. No, Luke, no. This isn’t...you’re not...no. You don’t get to do this to me. Not now. Not after...no.”

Julie felt the tears well up and spill over, wet tracks inching down her cheeks in the worst kind of betrayal. Not after everything she had done to save him. Not after she realized she loved him. It wasn’t fair. Luke didn’t get to just leave her like this. She wouldn’t allow it. Luke’s own eyes flooded, the two of them so in tune that when she blinked again her tears traced down her face in the same pattern that his did.

“Julie...please...”

He was pulling on her then, using their conjoined hands and his superior upper body strength to drag her up and onto the couch. Julie did her best to wedge herself into the space beside him, but Luke was having none of that, dropping her hands so he could twist his fingertips into her belt loops and haul her body on top of his. It was the kind of intimate cuddling she had been dreaming about for months, even before she had been able to touch him. Her head was tucked securely beneath his chin, cheek resting above the space his heart had once occupied. His arms were locked around her waist, hands solid and reassuring against the small of her back. She let her hands slip past the worn cotton of his cut-up band tee to rest against his ribs, the tears flowing fast and hot from her eyes to soak the material beneath her head.

She wasn’t sure Luke would even notice the difference. His temperature had to be sky high, every inch of his body where it pressed against hers engulfed in flames. Without realizing it, she began to hum the chorus to Edge of Great. She had been using it recently as a way to hype herself up when she started doubting something, the song never failing to remind her of Luke’s unbreakable belief in her. She felt it when Luke smiled, his head leaning down to rest against her own, voice blending with hers in a perfect harmony.

“We were pretty great, huh?” Luke’s voice was hushed as his lips moved across her scalp. “The band...the boys...us. We went right over the edge together, didn’t we? We’re just one dream, away from who we’re meant to be.”

Julie lost the melody as her quiet cries shifted to sobs. This couldn’t be it. They hadn’t even achieved half of the things they were meant to. Luke’s hum picked up where hers had dropped off, shifting slowly into the bridge of Finally Free.

“You’ll always be a part of me. Now ‘til eternity.”

Luke’s words were quiet and soft, melodic, as if he was still following the lines of the song in his head. There was a kind of peace to them that Julie hadn’t heard before, not since that awful night where he had stood before her and said there was no music without her. Not since the last time he thought she was going to have to watch him die. Not since the last time he had tried to say goodbye.

She couldn’t let him go like this. She had to fight, somehow, some way, to keep him where he belonged, right here next to her. She didn’t know what was happening, didn’t know how to fix it, but she could give him this. She could tell him how much he meant to her. She could hope that it would maybe be enough. Just like last time.

“Luke...I can’t...I’m not...” Her chest constricted, cutting off her words. God, how did it already hurt so much? “I’m not ready to lose you. I can’t lose you. I love you.”

Luke convulsed slightly underneath her, the movement moving from the tip of his head all the way down to his toes. Julie hugged him close, terrified. She wasn’t sure if that type of reaction was a good thing or a bad thing, and she wasn’t fully ready to find out. Beneath her, Luke’s body began to rapidly cool. That had to be a bad sign, right? A fever like that wouldn’t just suddenly break, not unless...not unless...Julie couldn’t even make herself think it. She pulled herself tighter against Luke’s chest, leveraged every inch she could get against him as her hands flexed against his back. A strange noise sounded from deep within his chest.

“Luke? Please, Luke, no. Please don’t leave me.”

Julie clutched herself as close as possible, the feeling of Luke’s arms slackening on her back twisting her stomach. Her sobs were borderline uncontrollable now, breaths coming in painful gasps as she pushed her face deeper and deeper into the fabric of Luke’s shirt. I love you, I love you, I love you. Her mouth formed the words over and over again until she felt them stitch themselves into the lining of her soul.

The noise sounded again, louder this time, directly underneath the spot where her cheek rested against his left pectoral muscle. And then she heard it again, and again, and again, slowly repeating until it picked up a slight rhythm. Slow at first and then explosively fast all the sudden. It sounded...like a heartbeat.

“Luke, oh my God, Luke, please, please, oh my God, please.”

Julie had no idea what she was even pleading for. A sign, a glimmer of hope to hold on to, another miracle that would save the boy she loved and bring him back to her, fully this time. It was too much to ask for, right? Too much to put faith into. The sound, the heartbeat, within Luke’s chest began to echo even louder. Julie forced herself to be brave. Forced herself to lift her head and look at Luke’s face. She told herself she could handle it. She told herself she had to do it.

Luke’s eyes were open above her. He looked just as bewildered as she felt, but his eyes were open and she could see his nostrils flaring as he sucked in a breath, and she felt the lungs in his chest expand beneath her and he was alive. He had to be alive, right? That was the only explanation here.

“Julie...?”

“Are you...?”

“I feel...”

“Alive.”

They said it at the same time, voices blending together the same way they did on stage, perfectly matched as if the universe itself had made it so. Julie pressed one hand against his cheek, his normal temperature cheek, and the other against his chest, directly above his heart. She felt the steady thump of muscle against her palm, felt Luke’s lips stretch into the widest grin she had ever seen. His own arms tightened around her waist again, forcing her to collapse against him as he squeezed. His heartbeat, his heartbeat!, roared strong and steady beneath her. His lips were in her hair, the only part of him that was still hot, moving against her curls in a way she didn’t have to hear to understand. I love you, I love you, I love you. Tying them together, heart to heart, the knowledge of that truth undeniable and overwhelming. He was alive. He was alive. Luke was alive, at her side, alive alive alive.

“Hey guys?”

Reggie’s voice, strained and aching. Julie had forgotten about the other boys completely. She turned her head, new tears overflowing when she caught sight of them. They looked like Luke had when she entered the studio. But instead of feeling scared, an immense wave of relief crashed over her. She could do this. She loved them. She could bring them back. Julie disentangled herself from Luke, crossing the room to pull the other boys close. Luke followed, his arms encompassing hers, Reggie and Alex safe within a never-ending circle of love. They burned hot and quick, fevers rising and crashing in a wave faster than Luke’s, heartbeats returning just as swiftly. They all cried, limbs overlapping in a heap on the floor. And when Julie met Luke’s eyes above the backs of the other boys, a moment passed between them. A moment that promised a lifetime together, every day beginning and ending with love and them.

“Now that we’re alive again, can we please get something to eat?”

Luke pulled Reggie into a noogie, but Julie just laughed, her heart soaring high as she thought about the endless future stretched out in front of them. A lifetime of forevers, starting that very day.

[memory-mortis]

Little Kitten (Dio x Reader)

Why hello there! First of all, I have no clue what this is. It’s not smut. It’s not fluff either. It’s just... huh. A random idea I had like 2 days ago. Secondly, to all of you who sent me a request months ago, I am really sorry. Don’t worry! I am still working on them! But it’s taking really long because I just went through a small writing block and I was feeling a little depressed. I will finish them one day, it just might take a while. Anyway, without further ado, let’s get this bread

WC: 1.8k TW: blood, the usual Dio stuff

So this was supposed to be a self-insert, which means the reader was originally meant to be female, but now that I think about it, it could be perceived as gender neutral too. The reader wears dresses, but fuck it, boys and nonbinary folk can wear dresses too, fuck gender stereotypes amirite?

This one contains NSFW themes. 18+ only.

“My, my… what do we have here? A soaked little kitten.”

Those were the first words he ever spoke to you. They came within a fever dream, his voice coated in honey and silk, reaching for the deepest desires hidden within your soul. He clenched your heart in his fists, dug his sharp nails into its tender meat. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Lord Dio had found you on the side of the road, soaked from the rain, beaten and bruised. You were trembling, barely conscious, and the memory of him walking towards you, his steps reminiscent of those of a proud lion, was hazy and blurry. It is safe to say that you were very close to death, and you would’ve had perished had it not been for him. You couldn’t tell to this day why he chose you out of all the poor women lying on the street, but he took a liking to you and while many men and women came to his mansion only to never return home alive, he kept you by his side and even fed you. In return… he made you his little play toy. You didn’t mind. You had nowhere else to go, and no one had treated you as respectfully as Lord Dio. He knew your boundaries, and whenever you asked him to stop, he stopped, and that is exactly why you chose to accompany him to Egypt.

The full moon hung low over the streets of Cairo littered with dots of light created by street lamps. A cool breeze of fresh air poured in through the open window which you stood by, your eyes pinned to the view of the city that opened in front of you. You did not feel cold thanks to the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Lord Dio would freak out if you didn’t take care of yourself and that was the last thing you wanted. A sigh escaped your lips in the form of a cloud of mist. While the air in Egypt was hot and dry in the day, once the sun set, the temperatures dropped close to the freezing point. You admired your master for being able to sleep in the scorching heat. You had tried to adjust your own sleep schedule to match his but it was always just too hot to sleep and so you had to settle for seeing him late at night and early in the morning, despite how lonely that sometimes made you feel.

You started reminiscing of your first days spent with Lord Dio. The very first night he took you home you were sick and tired, so you didn’t protest when he cleaned you up and helped you get dressed into warm new clothes. Besides, from the aura he gave off, you knew you couldn’t escape even if you tried to.

“My poor little kitten, malnourished, your cheeks are so thin and your eyes so sunken,” he purred into your ear as he washed your hair. You were so exhausted you leaned back into his touch and didn’t move when he ran his hand over your throat. Dio was pleasantly surprised by your reaction, you could practically feel the smirk growing on his face as he leaned over to smell your neck. “So compliant, so submissive,” he whispered as he stroked your cheek. “I think I’ll keep you around.”

You were not a fool. You knew that Dio wasn’t human from first laying your eyes on him. Everything about him was so surreal, so ethereal, he was inhumanly gorgeous and radiated the glow of a supernatural being. You knew he was a vampire. It wasn’t your first time spotting one. But you didn’t mind. You didn’t care if you were just another meal for him. You fell prey not only to his predatory instincts and tendencies, but also to his otherworldly beauty. You craved every single look of those sharp, golden eyes, you needed his cold touch. His attention was a drug that kept you up at night.

To your surprise, it took weeks for him to show any interest in drinking your blood. In fact, he hadn’t shown himself to you at all in the first few days. Each morning, you would wake up to eggs, bread and tea on your nightstand, and every evening you would find dinner on the floor in front of your door. Lord Dio was elusive, nowhere to be found no matter how hard you tried. Sometimes you would run to the door upon hearing footsteps, only to find a completely empty hallway, and for a moment you thought that you were crazy or living in a haunted mansion.

But then… you found him. He was sitting in an armchair in the library, an open book in his lap. Despite having his back to you, he registered your presence.

“Hello there, kitten,” he greeted you without even looking at you. You shuddered at the sound of his voice, just as soft and alluring as you had remembered. Finally, he closed the book in his lap and set it aside, stood up and looked at you. The view was breathtaking. He gazed down at you hungrily, a couple of golden locks falling into his face. He had no shirt on and his broad chest and toned abs were clearly visible to you. You noticed the scar all around his neck and you would’ve questioned him about it had it not been for sudden anxiety rising within you. Before you could notice, he was behind you, brushing your hair aside to take a good look at your shoulder. “Hmm, you’ve put on some weight. Good, good… now you don’t look like a walking skeleton anymore. Tell me, kitten, what’s your name?” he asked, his voice low and somewhat comforting. You immediately felt at ease, as if intoxicated by his presence alone. “Y/n,” you answered obediently. “Y/n…” he rolled your name over his tongue as if savoring it, engraving it into his memory. “What a pretty name for a pretty little creature. Say, y/n,” he spoke in a low voice, his lips close to your ear. You couldn’t help but lean your head towards him in a trance, drunk from the vibes he radiated. You couldn’t explain it if you tried, but something about him made everything feel right. “What do you say about becoming my personal plaything? I’ll treat you well. I’ll take you everywhere I go.” You nodded all too furiously, which made him let out a chuckle that took your breath away. “Good, good,” he growled excitedly and in a matter of seconds he was gone and back in his armchair. “Go prepare yourself. There are some dresses in your closet. We’re dining together tonight.” You didn’t waste any more time.

Lord Dio didn’t need to eat. He mostly just watched you while drinking his wine. Or blood. Who knew what he held in that wine glass. At first you felt really awkward. The food was really good, but you didn’t like people watching you gobbling down on it. Eventually, however, you got used to it. Every now and then you would look up and see him either reading or smirking to himself. Sometimes, his eyes would linger on the lower parts of your body. The dresses he would bring you every now and then were very pretty, you almost felt like a doll in them. You rather didn’t ask where he got them. But what was even more exciting was him getting you out of them.

The first time, he was surprisingly gentle. You could tell that he wanted to ravish you right then and there, but he held back, just for you. You were his little kitten. He couldn’t let himself break you, at least not so soon. It was a difficult task, but he did his best to make it a pleasurable experience. Still, to this day, your favourite nights were those where he let himself slip. The ones where he would rip your dress to shreds, push your face deep into the sheets of his huge bed and tear your body apart. Every thrust of his hips felt like the first beat of your heart, every “little kitten” whispered in your ear brought you alive, the real you that was not afraid to scream. You didn’t care if Vanilla Ice, or anyone else for that matter, heard you. It was hard to do so with Dio’s cock stretching your insides, the spell he cast upon you made it hard to form a coherent thought during those times.

He loved to hear your moans, he loved the way you called out his name. It gave him an incredible power trip, and his satisfaction brought even more pleasure to you. He never even tried to tone you down. He liked it loud.

You ran your fingers over the laced choker around your neck. It was one of his many gifts, and by far your favourite. Because it was his favourite too. It quickly became a necessity to wear these. After all, you didn’t want to walk around with the bite marks on your throat exposed. He didn’t drink too much. Every now and then he would get excited during sex and drink more than usual, which caused you to be dizzy, but you didn’t mind this either. In fact, it became something of a pleasant ritual. Your brain connected the dots between drinking blood and breeding and after a while you were conditioned so well your core would throb if he so much as licked the wound.

You’d seen the corpses of all the women and men he would drain of all blood. Something about you was special, your blood was different. He said it was like a juicy cherry on top of a cake. That’s one of the reasons why he kept you around. That, and the fact that you didn’t really question his decisions.

“You’re up late,” lord Dio’s voice echoed from behind you and you didn’t even flinch when he put his hands on your shoulders. “Can’t sleep,” you mumbled. “Oh? What’s keeping you up? Need to burn some energy?” He stroked your cheek with his knuckles and you shuddered at his touch. He froze when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, turned you around and lifted your chin up to take a proper look at your face. “What’s wrong, kitten? What’s making you shed those tears? Did someone try to hurt you?” You shook your head in response. “They’re getting close, aren’t they?” Though it was a question, your tone made it sound more like a statement. Dio went silent for a moment. “Are you worried about me, Dio?” he said with a growing smirk. “I am the greatest being alive. They can try to get as close as they want, there is no way they could ever lay a hand on me.”

You sniffled and did your best to stop your quivering lip. Dio looked at you like you were a fragile little flower, wiped the tear on your cheek away with his thumb and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Come, let’s go to the bedroom, little kitten. It seems that you need to be reminded of how powerful I am.”

[luvinseokjinnie]

Kim Taehyung Fic Recs

☾ -ANGST || ❅- SMUT || ✼ -CRACK/HUMOR || ❀ -FLUFF || ♛ - ACTION/SUSPENSE || ♪ - SUPERNATURAL/SCI-FI

-Fic Recs Main List-  

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One shots

Strings attached ☾ || kth x reader || @bangtiddies ||

Sypnosis: What started off as a favour is now wearing away your heart.

Paper Cranes ☾❀❅ || kth x reader || @aquaminwrites ||

Sypnosis:  It is said that if someone folds 1000 paper cranes, they will receive one wish. Kim Taehyung has been folding you paper cranes since he was six years old. He won’t tell you what he’s going to wish for once he reaches his goal, but even into your twenties, all you know is that he’s been wishing for the same thing every time.

Reasons to say I love you ☾❀ || kth x reader x jjk || @onherwings ||

Sypnosis: Kim Taehyung knew he loved you from the start. But the question is, does he ever tell you?

Plan V ☾❅ || kth x reader || @taesbetch ||

Sypnosis: When y/n can’t seem to find love she turns to her playboy best friend to help her find someone to lose her virginity too. However, fate has other plans 

With love ☾ || kth x reader || @rosaetae ||

Sypnosis: You were only 15 when you were diagnosed with cancer and met your best friend. He promised to stay by your side. You were 15 when you started gaining feelings. You were 15 when you started writing letters. You accepted the fact that you were going to die. You were only 18 when you were ready to leave.

Partners in crime ☾♛|| kth x reader || @allmysticwords ||

Sypnosis: A realization of love at the worst possible time. 

White lies ☾ || kth x reader || @yoonia || [personal fav] 

Amour flou ❀❅|| kth x reader || part of collide || @bloomsuga ||

Sypnosis: can be read as stand-alone or part of collide sm au

So let them bloom ☾|| pjm x reader x kth || hanahaki au || @ggukstummy ||

Sypnosis: Jimin is assigned to watch over (Y/n), a human who is doomed to die, for she loves a man who could never love her back. taehyung is the man behind the flowers blooming in her lungs, will they end up together, or will fate’s cruel hands take her away?

Choking ☾||ksj x reader x kth || hanahaki au || @idroppedthesope ||

Sypnosis: kneeled over in front of the toilet, blue daffodils spilling from your lips and mixing with your tears, you’re sure of one thing: kim taehyung, your best friend, doesn’t love you back. it’s your deepest fear that someone will find out, and when kim seokjin does just that, you quickly learn he might be the one that leads you to recovery.

Series

The crysanthemum effect ☾❀|| kth x reader || hanahaki au || @rosastae ||

Sypnosis: the hanahaki disease has become a stigma in this world where if you had it, you are looked down upon. her flowers were white chrysanthemums and they have been for the past two years. she was in love with someone who obviously didn’t feel the same way, and this was her way of moving on— along with the people in her life who had to conform around the hanahaki disease.

 The Bet ❀✼ || kth x reader || college au || @youremeimyou ||

Sypnosis: Taehyung and Y/N have managed to form a strong bond over their years of college. According to their friends, the chemistry between the two is undeniable. But the duo would rather not risk the close friendship. The very friendship that’ll be put to test by the boldest of bets, it seems.

Lavender + Vanilla ☾ || kth x reader || @rosastae ||

Sypnosis: a story about a boy who had forgotten his memory of you

Champagne Popsicle ❅❀ || kth x reader || Bottoms up Series by @gguksgalaxy ||

Sypnosis: You’re not a fan of social gatherings, especially not the ones where you have to show up in a stupid dress that you didn’t pick while it’s a 100 degrees outside. However, a handsome stranger with a popsicle that matches his pink hair might be able to turn your frown upside down.

It’s you  ☾ ❀ || kth x reader || hanahaki au || @itsamejin​ ||

Sypnosis: You’d rather live with thorns endlessly scratching the back of your throat than be devoid of the light that Taehyung brought into your life. Even if your love for him was slowly killing you, you didn’t mind as long as you could keep the warmth of his presence until the very end.

Social media AU

Collide ❀✼|| kth x reader || actor au || @bloomsuga ||

Sypnosis: your life had always been so wonderfully ordinary. or at least, it was—until the day you accidentally bumped into him and ended up with the wrong cellphone and a one-way ticket to a groupchat full of unusual characters…

Under a shadow ☾❀ || model!kth x reader || @firebettercallnct ||

Sypnosis: Yn has a model sister and she’s been living under her shadow her whole life. Everyone knows her as “Aecha’s sister” and that is IF they even know her. Every boy she liked fell for her sister including this one. Until Taehyung comes around and helps her grab Jungkook’s attention. But while doing that, Yn has already caught his.

Reply back to me ❀✼|| idol!kth x reader || @diorjeons ||

Sypnosis: Taehyung thought it’d be hilarious to send a text as a prank to one of his friends. Little did he know he was actually texting a random number, you. Turns out you’re a fan of bts but have no idea that the number that texted you at 3 am was V himself.

[princess-of-the-worlds]

So I watched Enola Holmes on Sunday, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how now with Burn in the movie, we’ve seen most of the cast in Victorian-type costumes. 

We have Burn in this movie. 

We have Barrowman in Fragments. (Ignore the sideburns.)

We have Eve Myles in The Unquiet Dead.

And we have Gareth in Warehouse 13. (And also apparently the Sherlock Holmes movie, but I’ve heard things about it, so we’ll ignore it.)

(Forgive, they’re the best gifs I can find right now, but it’s not really the point of this.)

So that just leaves Naoko. If she’s been in a movie or TV show that had her in a Victorian costume, feel free to let me know; I just personally haven’t seen or heard anything.

Anyways, my point is...Victorian Torchwood AU where the entire team is human? (Kudos to @ultraviolet-eucatastrophe​. I worked out most of this talking to her.)

Hear me out? (Keep in mind that I am neither British, well-versed in British history, or was alive in the 1800s. I’ve kept certain headcanons - like Tosh’s backstory - as vague yet historically possible as I can remember from school.)

This is set some time in the mid- to late nineteenth century/Victorian London.

Jack is like a Scottish lord or noble whose family moved to the US when he was young. After his dad and Gray died - and his mother succumbed to hysteria and became incapable of caring for him, he is left on his own as a teen and turns to crime. He becomes a con artist and thief and earns enough to board a ship to London when he is 19. In London, he meets fellow thief - and grifter - John Hart, and they become partners and lovers before falling out a few years later. Perhaps, Jack meets some mysterious leather-coated gentleman and his beautiful blond companion who, after an adventure, disappears but not before prompting Jack to try living on the legal side. He uses his criminal past and knowledge to consult for Scotland Yard.

Gwen is actually Gwyneth, and after the events of The Unquiet Dead, she blacked out instead of dying. The trauma fucked with most of her memories. She still remembers her name and adopts a variant of it - Gwen Cooper - before fleeing Cardiff for London where she works as a maid in many wealthy households. Her ability allows her to make premonitions that are always correct, and she is able to become a finder of lost items and people for which she is paid a small fee. She chalks this ability up to having keen sense rather than anything supernatural or Rift-related.

Tosh is the genius daughter of a wealthy Japanese businessman frequently visiting London. She spends time growing up sheltered between Japan and the British countryside but eventually grows a rebellious streak and runs away to London. Except she’s kidnapped by a band of men who originally want to sell her into prostitution until they realize how intelligent Tosh really is. They keep her captive for several months, forcing her to build them weapons.

Owen is born in the London slums but is ambitious and sharp enough to want to work his way out. He falls for a good woman, Katie, and eventually becomes a doctor, marrying Katie. They live happily for a few years until Katie dies of a seemingly incurable disease - actually an alien parasite. In his grief, Owen takes to drinking, gambling, and fighting and becomes a back alley doctor, growing a certain repute among the London criminals. One day, after one of their men is stabbed fatally in a fight, the same men who kidnapped Tosh kidnap Owen to operate on their man. Owen meets Tosh, and they bond over a few days. Meeting Owen gives Tosh the courage to finally facilitate the escape she had ben planning, and Owen and Tosh escape to freedom and hide in a flat near where Owen grew up, eventually falling in love.

Ianto belongs to a poor Welsh family and falls in love with Lisa, a local shopkeeper’s adopted ward, but Ianto’s dad disapproves of their interracial relationship and...(well, we know Ianto’s dad’s repute from canon.) To be together, Ianto and Lisa flee to London, but the only place they can find shelter and work is for a crime syndicate run by an imposing woman named Yvonne. Except this syndicate, which is actually a front for Torchwood, which was formed either the same time or a bit earlier depending on when you want to set this AU, and the entirety of the organization burns in a fire of alien-origin. (Only the original base in Scotland and a small outpost in Cardiff remain of Torchwood). Lisa and Ianto barely survive, and Lisa eventually succumbs to her injuries several months later despite Ianto’s best efforts. Ianto, after spending several long months in the London slums, managing to convince a tailor to take him on as an apprentice.

Then one day, a new serial killer begins operating in London. He kills neatly, somehow draining all the bodies of their blood with only a single puncture mark, and his victims are all women, prostitutes and widows and single mothers and the like. Women that no one will notice, that no one will miss.

Except he’s wrong. They are noticed, and they are missed.

Jack, ever so observant, takes notice and starts tracking down this killer. He may not entirely be the Jack Harkness we know and love, but the Doctor and Rose, no matter how brief their acquaintance remained, have inspired him to a good man. He can’t let a monster like this killer stay lurking in the city.

One of the victims is a prostitute who lived in the flat across from Owen and Tosh and never failed to be kind to them, especially Tosh, despite her being Japanese. Tosh and Owen are determined to bring her to justice.

Another of the victims was a runaway from a noble family, and her mother, knowing of Gwen’s repute, begs Gwen to find her.

And finally, poor Ianto happens to be leaving his tailor’s shop too late one night when he spots a struggle in an alley. Ianto, wanting to be wise and live, keeps his head down and walks away, but the next morning, he finds that he had accidentally ignored the killer with his newest victim. The guilt eating away at him, Ianto becomes determined to stop the killer as much as he can.

So all five of them are wandering through the city of London, trying to track down this serial killer. You can imagine they might bump into each other a few times, like Donna and Ten in Partners in Crime. Maybe Ianto grows intrigued of this strange, charming American he keeps meeting and can’t stop thinking about. Tosh and Owen are a bit wary of this quiet Welshwoman who speaks to them as if they’re old friends.

Eventually, Jack, Gwen, Tosh, Owen, and Ianto all corner the killer in a warehouse near the London docks one night except the killer turns out to not be human. The killer is a Plasmavore who has been feeding on all his victim. After a struggle ensues, the Plasmavore is subdued and eventually killed, and the Scotland Yard awards Jack, Ianto, and Owen the reward money for finding the killer.

But this doesn’t sit well with Jack who proposes that the five of them partner to form their own detective team, because they all have unique skills which they bring to the table. And they all realize, putting their heads together, that there exists a form of life that is not entirely human, a form of life beyond this planet. Jack has his Doctor, Gwen has her mysterious past and her ability - which still hasn’t occurred to them to be of similar origins as the creature they encountered yet, and Ianto has Torchwood. 

All five realize that they are better off and more efficient together and that they can be investigators of anything seemingly inhuman and other phantasmagoria. 

Thus, they accidentally become alien crime fighters two centuries too early.

And eventually, they solve enough cases to meet Madam Vastra, Jenny, and Strax and become their allies.

And somehow, they’re always ahead of the other branches of Torchwood to occurrences in London to the point where, on Archie’s suggestion, they actually become the new Torchwood London.

Of course, they have encounters with the Doctor whenever he pops around, and Jack finally gets some answers about his mysterious leather-coated gentleman.

And thus, despite being in a whole different century, and a whole different city, Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Tosh, and Owen still manage to become Torchwood. 

So yeah, there you have it. An entire AU (or at least its origin story) plotted out completely. Now here’s the thing. This idea won’t let me go, but I also can’t do historical AUs. Like, it’s just too much research and plotting involved for me to be satisfying with writing this. That’s why it’s up for grabs. If this sparks your interest and you wanna write, feel free to do so. Just please ask and get my blessing beforehand. (Joking, but please do shoot me a line if you end up writing this.)

Thoughts?