#whisked away powers greater than you even knew about

[demonfamilytherapist]

the House of Lamentation is alive (all houses are) and it loves you

[2dmenenthusiast]

Last Night on Earth Pt.6

(Ethan Winters x Gn!Reader)

warnings/other info: suicidal ideation, referenced death of minor characters, serious injuries

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9

“Baker.”

The steady beeping of the EKG droned on in your head, the whiteness of the sheets a strong contrast to the red wounds decorating your hands.

“Baker.”

Explosions, screaming, blood. So much fucking blood. The faces of your dead comrades— your friends— were permanently etched into your brain, their lips moving with words that haunted your very soul.

“Why couldn’t you save us?”

“You left me to die.”

“You killed us.”

“It should’ve been you.”

It should’ve been you. It should’ve been you. It should’ve—

“Baker!”

You gasped, head snapping up to see your Captain standing in front of you with his hands held behind his back. Letting out a shuddered breath, you placed a hand on your chest and curled your fingers into your hospital gown.

“Sir, I—”

“Are you alright?”

It felt like such a loaded question. One you didn’t have the answer to. Physically, yes. Other than a broken leg and a few cuts and scrapes, you were fine. You were alive, which was practically a miracle. Mentally, however, you felt like your brain was on fire. Your thoughts raced at a million miles a minute, the only consistent thought going through your head being how much you wanted to die.

“I… I don’t know.”

He nodded, and sat on the edge of your bed. You held your breath. His presence didn’t scare you or intimidate you, but you felt anxious. Like he was waiting to spill news that would ruin your life. Your two best friends died. The only real friends you’ve ever had. WHat could possibly be worse than that?

“I want you to meet with the counselor we have on base. Get a status on how you're feeling.”

Your eyes widened. “Sir, I— I’m fine.”

“You couldn’t give me that answer when I first asked you.”

Your lips pressed together in a tight line, casting your eyes to your casted leg. You didn’t want counseling. Didn’t want to sit in an uncomfortable chair and pour your feelings out to a person who was being paid to care. You just wanted to heal up as fast as possible and go back into active duty. Throw yourself into your work until you couldn’t think about anything else.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t feel like I need—”

“I wasn’t asking.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you absentmindedly picked at the scabs forming over your knuckles, trying to distract yourself with something.

“After your meeting, you’re being sent home on medical leave. Your duty status will be pending until we go over your evaluation.”

You nodded, and without another word, your superior left. There was nothing you could do besides sink into the bed, tears trickling down your face and wetting your pillow.

It should’ve been you.

***

Skinny fingers dug into slushy mud as Mia came too, looking at her dirtied reflection in the water. She couldn’t remember what happened. She was talking to Ethan on the boat and then all of the sudden… blackness. No doubt the work of Eveline.

Scrambling up on her feet, she cautiously walked through the debris, and gazed up at the impossibly large, destroyed ship sitting in front of her. The sight gave her pause, and she tried to wrack her brain for where she recognized it from, but she couldn’t place it. But the looming structure made her feel uneasy, that she knew for certain.

Moving forward, her breath hitched in her throat when her eyes landed on Ethan, face down in the mud. She immediately rushed for him, hands grabbing his shoulders and trying to shake him awake.

“Ethan? Ethan!”

He didn’t even have a chance to awaken when waves of black mold came out of the ground and surrounded him, whisking him away. She screamed for him, watching with horror as her husband was taken, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Evie’s powers were far greater than anyone could comprehend, but with her current state, Mia thought it was almost remarkable how she was still so strong.

Taking one last full glance at the boat, she let out a deep sigh and squared her shoulders. Evie brought them here for a reason. And she was going to find out.

***

Yeah. Definitely burning these pants when you’re done with them.

You were grateful they were tucked into your boots and that the laces were tied tight, otherwise you’d have mud pooling in the bottom of them. Thank god for growing up on a swamp. Otherwise, you’d be tripping over yourself and getting your feet stuck. For how many times you’ve told people you hate to “eat dirt,” you think this would be a giant middle finger from the universe if the earth and gravity decided to suddenly betray you.

Not like most of your life wasn’t a giant “Fuck You”.

No, your greatest worry was the gators lurking around in the murky water. And the great idea to throw Lucas in with them may or may not have occurred to you during your trek to the boat. 

Who knows, with this freaky infection coursing through him, he might turn into some giant, weird human-gator hybrid.

Humagator.

Alliman?

Not important.

“Christ, where’s my fuckin’ waders when I need ‘em.”

Ethan owes you a new pair of boots, too.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve been this far down in the swamp. Actually, you don’t think you have. You hoped the ship wasn’t too far out from where you currently were. While the deep mud and murky water were a pain to deal with, you definitely preferred this over walking hours through cities that had nothing but sand for miles.

You gasped when the water rippled in front of you and something swam under the surface. You pointed your gun, ready for it to attack, but the mysterious creature swam right past you in the direction you came from. You stared off into the darkness for a moment and shrugged. One last thing you had to waste bullets on.

Christ, what was Eveline doing to them? Has she already decided to Kill Ethan and keep Mia all for herself? Either that, or she decided to take over and make him a part of her sick family. You hoped it wasn’t the former. God, anything but that. You wanted more than anything for them to be okay.  Like Ethan somehow used his knack for surviving and escaped Evie. Or he finally killed her. That would certainly be preferable.

It was so quiet out here, the only sound being the frogs hiding in the tall weeds and cattails, and the cicadas flying through the tree leaves. It was almost unsettling. Before Evie came to you, your family home was always bustling with noise. Whether it be Zoe and Lucas shouting at each other, or your father playing old music on his record player. There were many nights when you all would stay up late and play Black Jack, your brother always a sore loser, and your father taking a peek at momma’s cards whenever he thought she wasn’t looking. She always caught him.

The memories were painful to think about. So many happy moments you still could’ve had if Mia and Eveline never showed up in your lives. What added onto the hurt was the fact that you probably wouldn’t be able to keep mementos from the house. None of your family photo albums, or the blankets your mother quilted for you. No, the government would show up, and they’d have to torch it. All of it. There couldn’t be any risk of the infection spreading somehow. God, you dreaded the deep decontamination cleaning you were gonna have to get later.

They’d probably get in crevices you didn’t know you had.

Continuing on with a disturbed shiver, it wasn’t long until you finally came across the crashed ship. There was a giant hole in the side of it, rusted metal spread out all over the swamp. You wondered how something could do so much damage, and if it was Evie’s doing, you only just realized in that moment how powerful she was.

For the sake of survival, you decided against going inside of it, choosing rather to wade around it for any sign of life. Preferably not one of Eveline’s friends. The closer you got to the ship, your ears picked up on the groaning inside. If Ethan was in there…

Something else sounded in the distance, and you turned your head to see a small, wooden cabin at the edge of the water. Was that…static?”

You moved as fast as you could in the murky water, hands grappling for the raised platform and pulling yourself up onto the dock. The static got louder, and you practically busted the door down, the flimsy wood barely hanging on its hinges. When you saw the radio on the table, you almost broke down crying and scrambled for the receiver.

“Hello?! Can anyone read me?”

Silence. You clenched your teeth.

“Is there anyone there? Come in.”

Again, there was no answer. The radio dropped out of your hand as you fell to your knees, leaning your arms on the table and resting your head against them whilst sobs wracked your body.

You were going to die. No one was coming to help, and Ethan and Mia were going to meet a fate probably worse than death. Zoe would be left alone.

And there was nothing you could do to save them.

The exhaustion settled deep in your bones, and you cried until your chest hurt. Any lingering hope you had within you vanished.

What the fuck were you supposed to do now?

Then, the radio crackled to life.

“Alpha 1— this is Bravo 1— do you read?”

You let out a soft gasp and lifted your head, listening closely.

“This is Alpha 1. Report. Did you find anything?”

“A thorough search of the Baker property revealed zero survivors. Repeat, zero survivors. We did find evidence of a skirmish.”

“Eveline?”

Holy shit, they were looking for her!

“Negative. However, we did find several encrypted messages from the Baker’s son, Lucas, to an unknown third party. You can probably guess who that was.”

“Great. We’ve had reports he’s in the abandoned mines south of the property. I’m gonna have a look.”

“Roger that. We’ll meet you at those coordinates.”

“If you encounter Eveline, orders are shoot to kill. Repeat, shoot to kill.”

The transmission ended, and you sat back on your feet. Lucas… what was he doing? Who was he sending messages to? How the fuck was he involved in all of this?! After three years, you realized you still had more questions than answers, only scraping the tip of the iceberg when it came to everything you knew. You knew Lucas was always a wild card, but how much did you not know about him? About what he was doing?

But, people were here. People that were on your side for once and wanted Eveline dead just as much as you did. And they were military by the sound of it. That meant fire power. Enough to wipe out that bitch and your brother. You hoped you ran into them soon.

***

“Ethan.”

…

“Ethan…”

The darkness that filled his vision slowly dissipated, revealing the blurry image of Jack Baker in front of him. He gasped, raising his hands, and Jack quickly hushed his worries.

“I know, I know. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Ethan looked around curiously. He was back in the main house, sitting on the living room couch. Everything around him was distorted, like he was in some weird dream. This must be a dream if Jack Baker is sitting in front of him, acting like he was at peace of mind. Zoe sat next to her father, staring with a blank look on her face. And when he looked over at the other couch, he saw…

You.

A tingling shot through his legs as he immediately got the urge to get up and go over to you, quietly uttering your name. You just gave him a small smile.

“It’s okay, Ethan.”

He wanted to doubt that. Come to the conclusion that his mind was just playing one big trick on him, and Jack would slit his throat in the next two seconds. But when he looked over at your father, he didn’t get that unsettling feeling that’s been plaguing him all night. He felt strangely… calm.

“I never would’ve hurt you if I could have helped it. son.”

Ethan blinked. “What do you mean?”

Jack sighed, and shook his head. “I’m no killer, Ethan. Neither is Marguerite, nor Zoe.” He looked at you with a sad smile. “They’ve been helping you an awful lot, haven’t they?”

Ethan felt something warm envelop his hand, and he looked down to see your hand wrapped around his. He didn’t hesitate to curl his fingers, giving your hand a squeeze. It felt like you were really here.

“But that girl, Eveline. She did this to us,” Jack continued.

Ethan drew his attention back to your father. “What the hell is she? What did she do to you?”

It seemed like it was almost painful for Jack to talk about it, the way he sighed. “She infected us with her gift. That’s what she calls it.I found her near a busted-out tanker in the bayou. Everything changed after that.”

“So she infects you, and then she takes control?” Ethan could barely wrap his mind around what Jack was saying.

“No, not exactly. She just— she forces her way into your mind and your soul and… you can’t fight back. You’re connected to her, and you can’t resist the urge to…”

Ethan watched you get up from your spot, letting go of his hand so you could sit next to Jack. You put a comforting hand on his back, and he sighed.

“You become a different person after that.”

The pieces were slowly starting to come together for Ethan. “So… Mia sent me that message because of Eveline?”

“Listen, the girl just wants a family of her own. But you gotta find her, and stop her.” Your head leaned over to rest on your father’s shoulder, a sad looking washing over your face. Jack put his hand on your knee. “Ethan, free my family. Please.”

Ethan’s gaze landed on you as you stood and crouched in front of him, lips pressed together in a weak smile. You reached up and brushed a few blonde stray hairs away from his forehead, before your hand came down and cupped his jaw.

“You’re strong, Ethan. Stronger than any of us. You’ll make it through this. You’ll save us.”

Rising to your feet, you leaned down and gently pressed your lips to his forehead— Ethan’s eyes gently fluttering shut at the feeling— before walking out of sight. That’s when his vision slowly started to fade, the image of Jack becoming blurry in front of him.

When his eyes adjusted again, it wasn’t you or your father that he saw, but it was… black? He tried moving, but he found his arms and legs trapped, and when he tried flexing his fingers, he felt something wet squish against them.

Mold.

He was in mold.

There were muffled voices, but he didn’t have the opportunity to try and decipher them when light suddenly poured into his vision, and he took a deep breath. Mia frantically tore the mold away from his body before grabbing him and pulling him out, the mold sticking to his arms like it had become a part of him. He was dazed and confused, gripping his wife’s arms as he tried to get his bearings again.

“Wait— Mia, how?”

She shook her head. “There isn’t any time. You have to get out and find her.” 

He could barely register what she was saying, because the next thing he knew, she was shoving something in his hand and pushing him out of the room, shutting the steel door between them.

“Wait– wait! What are you doing?!”

“Saving your life… I won’t be able to resist for much longer.”

Resist?! He thought he cured her!

Through the small window, he could see Eveline appear behind Mia, and he felt rage course through him. This— Everything— It was all her fault!

“Now, go kill that little bitch.”

Mold covered the glass as he shouted for his wife, slamming his hands against the door in some attempt to push it open. Fuck, what was she going to do to her? A million different possibilities and fears circled through Ethan’s mind as he tried finding his way off the ship, the mold on the wall morphing into different messages right in front of his eyes.

It’s all your fault.

His jaw clenched, trying to ignore the pang of regret he felt for not trying harder to get back to Mia. But what could he do? Eveline infected her again. She’d kill him, and then there’d be no saving any of you. His mind drifted back to you, and worry clouded his mind. Shit, what was even happening to you right now? Did you and Zoe end up like Mia? Maybe you were both waiting outside the ship, ready to strike as soon as he showed his face. If you were doing Evie’s bidding, he could only imagine the hundreds of possibilities he might die tonight.

Ethan’s steps sped up into a jog when he could finally see the outside world waiting for him, taking a deep breath to make sure he was still here. The freezing water against his legs when he stepped off the metal ledge and into the swamp was confirmation enough, and he waded through the water as quickly as he could. His heart leapt up into his throat when he saw a wooden shelter a few yards away, pushing himself with a grunt despite every muscle and bone in his body aching. He had to push through it. He had to save Mia. He had to save you.

When he lifted himself onto the dock, he took out his gun with shaking hands, teeth chattering, and pressed his hand against the flimsy door. God forbid another one of Evie’s friend’s was in here. With a deep breath, he raised his gun—

***

The door to your left burst open, and you scrambled to your feet and whipped your gun out, holding it in shaky hands. Your chest heaved with deep breaths, eyes wide as you stared down the barrel of the gun pointed back at you. It took a second for your vision to unblur, making out a familiar head of blonde hair and features that were covered in dirt and debris.

“Holy shit,” your voice came out in a whisper.

Ethan huffed out a breath in relief, muttering your name quietly to himself before dropping his gun to the floor and closing the distance between you. Your own weapon clattered to the ground as you crashed into him, sweeping you up into a bone crushing hug, and your arms quickly enveloped him whilst you buried your face in his shoulder. You never wanted to let him go. Because if you did, he might leave again, and the chance to find him may be even slimmer than it was this time.

When his hand came up to cradle the back of your head, you could feel your eyes burn with fresh tears, fingers tightly gripping the back of his shirt.

“Fuck. You have no idea how glad I am to see you right now,” Ethan chuckled, his hold on you tightening.

You laughed and sniffled, and he slowly let you pull away. His gaze traveled up and down your form, like he hadn’t seen you in years and was committing your image to memory. His eyes lingered on your face, and you subconsciously reached up to wipe your cheek. You watched his brows furrow.

“Where’s Zoe?”

Any traces of happiness you had on your face quickly drained, and Ethan frowned. “Evie, she… I can’t even explain it. She did something. Zo’s unconscious, and– shit, I don’t know how to help her.”

You felt yourself about to cry again and wanted to scream. This whole night has been a series of ups and downs, an overwhelming feeling that you’ve felt more on this single night than any other for the past three years. You wanted to hold it together. But fuck, it was getting more difficult each passing second.

Ethan held out his hand, a small glass jar in his palm. “Mia gave me this. I think we can use it to stop Eveline.”

Your arms crossed over your chest. “Is she—”

“She’s alive. Just… We have to hurry.”

You nodded and followed Ethan out of the small shack, nothing surrounding you but mud and trees.

“There’s military here. Heard it on the radio inside. They’re looking for Evie.”

Ethan stopped in his tracks. “Holy shit. You mean there’s people here to help us?”

You smiled and nodded, and could practically feel the relief coming from him. “They said Lucas was hiding in the mines just off the property. My father told me about the mines before, but he said they were all caved in.”

“Maybe he lied. Didn’t want you and your siblings playing around in them?”

You hummed. “Maybe. Still, we should check it out. If Lucas is hiding there, maybe we could get some answers.”

If it was one thing you needed, it was answers. You were so fucking tired of being in the dark, left guessing without any sufficient information to go off of. You felt like you and your family were damn lab rats. Left scrambling while everyone else had the solutions and answers to whatever disease you were given. It made you so fucking angry, and it felt like the only thing you felt these last few years was constant anger. Coursing through you and dictating every thought and decision you made. At least it kept you alive. Kept you surviving.

Walking through the tall grass, you and Ethan eventually came across a large industrial elevator in the middle of a clearing. Your forehead wrinkled.

“The hell is this doing here?”

“It’s clearly not abandoned. It’s got running power.”

“Think this is the way Lucas has been getting into the mines?”

Ethan shrugged. “We’re about to find out.”

You swallowed and hesitantly pressed the button to open the doors, stepping in after him. When the doors shut and you began descending, you felt like you just signed your death warrant.

Next stop: Hell!

Letting out a huff, you glanced at Ethan only to find him already looking at you.

“What? Something on my face?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s just… It’s good to see you. I didn’t think…” He pressed his lips together, eyes shifting away from you.

You reached out, grabbing his arm. “Hey. It’s gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of me. I thought you knew that by now.”

A small grin slowly stretched across his face, causing a smile of your own to form as well. Shit. You didn’t realize until now just how much you missed it. His smile. If you were honest, you didn’t know if you’d ever see him again either.

“I wouldn’t have, by the way.”

Your head tilted slightly. “Wouldn’t have what?”

“Forgotten about you.” 

You could feel your breath hitch in your throat, Ethan staring right into you.

“I would’ve never forgotten you.”

Clearing your throat, you tried to play off how flustered you felt with a small chuckle, gesturing to yourself. “I mean, I make it pretty hard to don’t I?” you winked.

Ethan just shook his head, and the elevator stopped. The doors opened, revealing the bright white expanse of the salt mine around you. It was practically blinding. And weirdly ominous. You had no doubt in your mind that Lucas was probably expecting you to come down here, which meant he likely had more traps set out for you. You told Ethan to be careful, and took the lead.

Salt and rocks crunched under your feet, your breaths practically echoing off the cave walls. You almost preferred being trapped in the house than down here. Maybe because it wasn’t so empty, or underground for that matter. The thought of a cave in was enough to almost make you freeze, but you continued on. The sooner you get out, the better.

The telltale noise of Eveline’s monsters stopped you in your tracks, hearing moaning and shuffling just a few yards away. You silently pointed in the direction they were coming from, quiet on your feet as you and Ethan stalked forward. As soon as the creatures rounded the corner, you put three bullets in one’s head and watched it burst open, its body flailing to the ground. Ethan took care of the other one just as quick, and you released the breath you had been holding.

“I can’t wait to be rid of those fuckin’ things.”

Ethan stayed silent, which was odd. Normally he had some awful one-liner for you to roll your eyes at. This time, nothing.

“You gonna tell me what’s buggin’ you?

“It’s… hard to explain.”

You scoffed. “So is everything that’s been happening. I’m sure I can handle it.”

With a sigh, Ethan carelessly ran a hand through his hair and let his gun drop to his side. “I… I saw you, and your dad, when I was in the mold.”

You blinked a few times. “Wait, you were in the mold?”

“It has consciousness. We know it’s alive, right? So it makes sense. But Jack, he was speaking to me. Told me that— that Eveline was the one that caused all this and that he never meant to hurt anyone. And you…”

Your eyes were wide, brimming with tears as you thought about your father. Alive… sane.

“H-He… He looked okay? Like himself?”

He shifted on his feet, slightly nodding, and your hand came up to cover your mouth. So anything the mold infected, its memory lived inside of it, even if it was alive. Just another thing to add on to how impossible this all seemed. But if you killed Evie… maybe they’d finally be at peace?

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sniffled and nodded, resting your hand on your hip. “Yeah. Yeah, just— I’m glad. That he was himself. That… he has us.”

Ethan’s lips pressed together in a straight line, reaching up to squeeze your shoulder before you both pressed on. Unsurprisingly, you both ran into more mold creatures along the way, and you quickly began to realize you had zero idea where you were supposed to be going. You guessed forward was the best option, but you swore if you ended up trapped in this damn mine, Ethan was getting eaten first.

Fortunately, after seeing enough salt to last you ten lifetimes, you and Ethan came across a previously abandoned room, filled with empty tubs and empty science equipment, and a lone computer sitting on a table. You immediately searched through it, hoping it would give some clues to where Lucas was hiding, but what you read put nothing but horror in you, disgust slithering down your spine and sending a chill through your body.

“Thanks to you guys it’s been about a week since my head’s been clear and back to normal. And she STILL thinks she’s got me!”

The rest of the words blurred into nothing but a jumbled mess, something heavy landing in your gut and your chest constricting. Your nails dug into the edge of the table, and you didn’t hear Ethan say your name over your racing thoughts and labored breathing.

“Hey. Hey, you're okay—"

“He hasn’t been under her control… this whole fucking time?!”

It was like your word flipped on its axis. And everything you thought you knew turned out to be a bold face lie. Ethan’s attempts to calm you down couldn’t even begin to contain all the rage bubbling up in you in that moment. It was like a kettle boiling over, pressure rising and rising until you had to fucking scream. 

“He fucking tortured us!” You grabbed a metal pipe out of the tub. “Tried to kill me and my sister!” Swung at the glass beakers on the table, shards of glass flying. “Played his sick FUCKING GAMES!” The computer was picked up and thrown across the room, and the scream you let out could shatter windows.

Glass crunched under your knees when you fell on them, tears freely rolling down your cheeks and sliding down your neck.

“He was supposed to be my big brother…”

Ethan didn’t say anything, just crouched beside you and carefully placed his hand on your leg. Your breath hitched with a sob, breaths shaky and your fingers digging into the material of your jeans. How could you be so blind?

“I’m so fucking stupid, Ethan.”

He immediately shook his head. “Hey. No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.” You reached up, wiped at your eyes. “Thinkin’ this whole time my brother was only crazy ‘cus some little girl made him that way. That he’d never hurt us if it wasn’t for her. He always wanted to do this. He just needed her gift to finally get started. Christ, I’m such a fucking fool.”

“You’re not. You wouldn’t have survived this long if you were. Y-You’re smart, and strong—”

“Not nearly as strong as you.”

His eyes slightly widened. “Well, you know how to flatter a guy.”

You chuckled even though you didn’t feel like finding any humor in this situation, but leave it to Ethan to make you crack.

“I’m serious. You… shit. You come in here, practically guns blazing trying to find your wife after not knowing where she was for three damn years, and you just happen to stumble into the craziest home this side of Louisiana. And you lived. I don’t know if I’ve ever loved someone so much to go through all this shit for them. Especially after they stabbed me and cut my hand off with a chainsaw.”

He scoffed, pinching your knee and causing you to slap at him.

“Jerk.”

Glancing at the laptop on the ground, you watched its cracked screen glitch with the distorted image of Lucas's email. Then you thought back to what you heard on the radio. So he was working with someone. Some sick fucks more demented than him, and gave him the tools to carry out whatever he pleased. How could someone do this?

"What if he kills us, Ethan?"

Rough fingers brushed against your jaw, forcing your head to the right so Ethan could firmly press his lips against yours. You sharply inhale through your nose, body freezing and hands stilling because what the hell were you supposed to do with them? Slowly, your body relaxed and your hand came up to circle Ethan’s wrist as you carefully kissed him back. Your lips tingled, fog clouding your brain and your limbs practically fucking vibrating. This was not your first kiss. Not by a long shot. But god, if kissing Ethan didn’t didn’t make you feel like it was.

You finally pulled away with a quiet gasp, his hand not leaving your face as his thumb gently ran back and forth over your jaw.

“To get to you, he’ll have to get through me first.”

You huffed out a breath, too stunned to form a proper sentence, so you just nodded.

Standing up, Ethan held out his hand and helped you to your feet, giving you a quick once over to make sure you were okay. Of course, you were covered in injuries from head to toe, no doubt he was the same, but he found himself checking anyway for anything he might’ve missed.

“Ethan.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I’m okay.”

He didn’t say anything, just nodded and guided you forward through the next door. If you weren’t shocked already, the next room you stepped into certainly put you in that state. Photos of, what you assumed were infected individuals, hung on the walls, and files among files were scattered throughout the room. Every one you looked at, you saw similar words. “Virus” and “E-Series,” all of them talking about infections and experiments. One of the files mentioned weaponizing the E-Series, and the thought horrified you. Experiencing the horrors of this virus firsthand, you could only imagine what it would be like if it was spread around the world. 

When you got your hands on the file mentioning Eveline, you practically analyzed every word and went through the information with a fine-toothed comb. It all sickened you, how these people could do this to a little girl. 

“These sick fucks…”

You glanced over as Ethan walked over to the large case in the middle of the room, large plastic tubes running from it to keep whatever inside properly contained. When it opened, you saw a mummified child corpse similar to the one you saw on your mother’s shrine, and a violent shiver went through you.

“Holy shit.” Ethan spun to face you. “This is it! This is how we kill Eveline.”

Taking the vial out of his pocket, he placed it in the small compartment of the case, and you both watched as the corpse slowly calcified before another compartment opened, revealing a syringe with a strange green liquid inside of it. The “E-Necrotoxin,” you read.

It almost seemed too good to be true. That you could actually kill the nightmare that had been plaguing you these last few years. You imagine every different way this would go down, but to have it just within your grasp so suddenly…

Ethan grabbed your hand, tugging you forward and out of your thoughts. “We gotta get out of here.”

The hairs of the back of your neck raised, your body shivering as you felt eeriness wash over you. Something wasn’t right. No, this whole thing wasn’t, but something inside of you was screaming that something was coming.

As you made your way further into the cave, desperately hoping that the way out was close ahead, your boots sludged through muddy water, Ethan leading the way forward. Something sharp and loud pierced your eardrums, and a pained gasp ripped through your throat as you bent over and clutched the sides of your head.  There were hands on your shoulders and your name passed frantically over Ethan’s lips, but his words were muffled.

The ringing only got worse, blood trickling out of your ears and down the sides of your face, and you screamed when the image of Evie appeared before you.

“Eveline! NO!”

“Hey! She’s not here! You can fight it!”

Evie only smiled, and she was suddenly right in front of you, bringing you to your knees in the murky water.

“You’re gonna die. Just. Like. Mommy.”

She giggled maniacally, laughing at your pain and despair, and you were very aware of the hands shaking you all of the sudden. The scream that ripped through you bounced off the cave walls and had Ethan flinching, and Eveline’s image disappeared.

DIE!

The ground beneath your feet started rumbling, large rocks rolling to the ground as the mine began to cave in. Fingers gripped your wrist so hard you bruised, and Ethan pulled you forward so you wouldn’t get crushed by falling rocks. Monsters began pouring out from every dark corner, raising their long claws and slashing at you both. Ethan tried to shield you, but he couldn’t stop one of them from ripping through the back of your shirt and slicing open your skin.

You fell into Ethan’s side with a scream, but he didn’t stop moving. He tucked your body tight into him and dragged you forward. Because if you stopped, you were as good as dead. But with Ethan lugging your weight around, you were certain that would be the outcome anyway. You remembered your rules, how you told him that if there was no chance of both of you surviving, that he should save himself. Now seemed exactly like one of those times. But your body was too weak to protest against his efforts to save you. You simply reached up and gripped his shirt in your fist.

“Ethan… Don’t—”

“I’m gonna get us out of here, okay? Just hold on.”

Your vision began to fade in and out, barely able to see five feet in front of you. You must’ve blacked out at some point, because one moment you were dragging your hand against the rough cave wall, and now you were collapsed on your side, the cement floor cooling your burning skin. Hands carefully turned you onto your stomach, and you protested with a groan. You felt too much and nothing at the same time, your mind fading while your back burned with the fire of the sun.

“You’re gonna be okay. Hey! Come on, you gotta keep your eyes open!”

But god, your eyelids felt so fucking heavy. Every time you blinked your eyes, it got harder to open them again, and Ethan’s concerned expression in front of you began to blur into a flesh colored mess, his voice being drowned out by the ringing in your ears.

“Hey! Nonononono— no, you can’t. Hey, it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. Please—”

You felt wetness against your face, and Ethan’s voice faded into nothing as your eyes finally fluttered shut.

Taglist: @xdarkcreaturex

[yostresswritinggirl]

Lullaby for the Gods

You have two options

"Stories brought on to the wind will bloom into legends in due time; An ancient tale comes whisked into the wind; In time it will grow and sprout once again." The Weaver and Nurturer of Tales, how they came to be and how they have gone.

Pairings -> Venti x God of Time (Ambiguous, Can be Reader)

Word Count -> 1976

Themes -> SCENARIOS, Background, Timeline, It's sad kinda

Series -> #Bonafide specials (100 followers event) Special slot from a special someone : not sure if they want to be tagged

Warnings -> This is my interpretation on the God of Time based on the Sacrificial Weapons Series. And since the prompt only mentions Venti, I won't focus much on their relationship with Decarabian.

Winds of the North are migrating through the crown of the continent once again. The clouds and breezes shift at the peak of day and the grass, the trees, the flowers they all sway. This was the first encounter, as one of the threads of the thousand migrating winds that is Venti, he had always been fascinated by the strong gales that covers a vast land beyond his reach. The city of Mondstadt protected by raging winds far stronger than he.

"Come now, little guy, are you not straying from your stream?" Such beaded eyes of the little sprite detaches from the crown of the North, with its giggles accompanies a sound reminiscent of bells as he nuzzles at the outstretched hand, fair and smooth. A finger consoles his little cheek as the God of Time echoes his snicker. As the sprite settles on their hand, they both spare a minute to watch the God of Storm's dominion. And then they turn to guide Venti back to his current, to his family of winds.

And the little sprite will not witness them until the second cycle of wind passes the cold land of Mondstadt.

So when the time came, several weeks after, Venti once again strays from the winds to venture to his own current. Where are the satin robes that flows with the breeze, that witnesses the rage of another God? The sprite follows tinkling of tin carried by the thousand winds, harmonizing to produce a soft and sleepy melody that lulls those to sleep.

In a distant island he finds himself upon a huge sundial atop a mostly quiet temple. And there stood again the God of Time, with a distant look over the ocean horizon, eyes clouded yet sparkling from the stars that bounced from the surface of the water. Their skin never frails nor wrinkles, hair lustrous and thick, yet their eyes carry a thousand yard stare of shrouded sadness.

"Little wind..." the sprite nuzzles against the cheek of the God, vibrating in worry as he urges them to smile. And they did, even if did not reach their eyes. "You've strayed again, your achon is far from here," cradling the elf to their neck, they turn away from the horizon to the west.

Yet when they urge him to go back, he stubbornly stays.

A stubborn wind playing around the wielder of Time itself. His courage was admirable, and he is lucky that this God is benevolent to his advances.

So they entertain Venti, and the wind begins his stories. Tales of those he'd witnessed when the wind ventures through the continent; and in every word he spills the God of Time is attentive, for when his accounts finally come to their end, Time puts into their memory for keeping. You weave the tales and I treasure them for that is my duty, they spoke with melancholy.

Decarabian is a God that loves his people more than others would know, more than the people would know. And he is also a lonely God. Perhaps it is this distance and disconnection from the world and his people that had made him naive to what he has forced upon his subjects.

The first prayer was heard beyond the wall of storms, only befalling to the ears of the God of Time and the wind spirit who were enjoying a leisurely stroll through the frozen land Andrius had covered in his territory. A man's woe for salvation of the city beyond the gales first reaches the God.

Yet they are unmoving and silent as they watch from afar the Gunnhildr.

But the wind spirit was not that, he was curious and as always he is carried away to his own feat. So without warning he strays from Time and listens to the crying one ever so patiently, and there he receives a glimpse of power that shall manifest one day to greater good.

God of Time offers a smile in the forests where they hid. But only that. For despite being the God of Time, they are solely there to protect its flow. To maintain balance and what should be.

There is nothing they can do to help the people of Mond.

"Little wind." The moniker carried a hard edge of worry unlike the other instances it was used. "The land of Decarabian is... treacherous and suffocating. You are but a tiny wind against his storms." Yet they knew such words will not remove the resolve in the tiny spirit. "Come back to me in one piece, alright? Remember your tales."

Venti softly bumped his hooded head to the God's cheek in reassurance, before he too disappears past the walls of gale front.

And so the God of Time can only do nothing but stand in wait. Like they had always been. Like they had always done. For Decarabian then, for Venti now.

"Bring forth the freedom we all desire."

Many of those that dwell the King of the North's cold wasteland once talked of an ethereal being of satin and silk, of flowing sands, that which overlooked the land of the storms with a somber look. Perhaps it was the waiting and the hoping, but many felt great semblance with the deity. Of the longing look for a distant freedom.

"Little wind," immediately after was a chorus of laughter at the irony brought upon by habits. Venti, now Barbatos with his great wings loom over the God of Time, hands outstretched to feel upon their smooth hands. "I always knew there was more to you."

"My muse," he tastes the new name with his newfound voice, and with his there was a chorus of angelic echoes. "There are festivities upon us, for the city of Mond trapped that was. The people had prepared a grand temple, for just us two Gods it is already ample."

Yet the God of Time smiled only with their lips at the mention of a shrine. You told them about me, they mused as the archon carried them both with the wind where the temple by the east cliff resides.

Give yourself some credit, the new Anemo Archon responds in light banter.

But the God of Time does not.

And so days of reenactments and performances were all that they were driwned upon. For daily, between the peak of the moon and the glimpses of the sun, devoted subjects would appease to the two Gods of Mondstadt through retelling and theatrics of their hard-earned journey to freedom.

Although they cannot glimpse upon the forms of the deities, the light giggles reminiscent of bells that comes from amusement and the flow of draping satin are enough reassurance that their important audience still lingers and listens to their offerings.

This dwelling became their place of rendezvous. And whenever the amphitheater was not crowded by devotees, a lyre plays with a melodic voice, weaving tales of Mondstadt's anew. The God of Time would be there to treasure every story that is weaved, but their subjects remember such moments in a different light: the strum of the strings and the lilt of Barbatos carries with it a hint of serenades.

It seems as tho the faceless God enjoys the Anemo Archon's tales the most.

Whenever it is the Gunnhildr's clan that performs their tale of courage in honor of defending Mondstadt, life and freedom, Barbatos' happiness was the most extraordinaire. The winds breeze by to caress everyone with comfort.

The Imunlaukr receives praise from the God of Time when they are the one on stage. Of courage and bravery, with their desire to not only protect the city of Mond but to appease the Gods, time slows when they follow their script. As if honored by time to stay and linger for the amusement.

And finally, the Lawrence clan holds with them a different reaction, for when their time has come it is quiet. Other clans would comment that perhaps the Gods do not favor their performance but they continued regardless, and they carry with them the essence of wisdom and strength, from the frozen lands to the new city. And only after they perform are they graced by the softest winds and the kisses of youngness that they carry with them even after.

This clan's performance sings with expertly woven symphonies and journeys of hardships through the cold, not harsh but comforting, soft melodies and that of longing. During their performance unbeknownst to their eyes is when the wind embraces the passage of time, where it is in its calmest moments, cradled between his arms and resting against his chest.

The bloodline of the Lawrence always ends the rituals for the morning, for the God of Time had finally found themself free from the shackles of the storms, peacefully resting in the arms of freedom. And it is in these moments that the people appreciate the lessened harshness of time.

Time is harsh and unrelenting, and should always be moving.

The God of Time protects time, nurtures time, and urges time. No force or law shall break the equilibrium of time nor tip its balance. And this unbreakable rule applies to them.

For this reason they ask one day, to the Anemo Archon, why they praise Time. What do they expect from time. And there Barbatos finally sees the burden of a thousand years, of the constraints of that whom is held down by prayers, held down by incapability.

Time only knows harshness. And they cried to the winds without restraints, for not once will they be able to gift the people that so desperately long for their blessings.

And for once, the wind was silent.

For once, the winds... understands the insanity of being one with time. A force made to be unmoved and unrelenting, to be shackled to a single tale when you are burdened with the pleas of many others.

Time is harsh, because they are meant to be.

So when the Anemo Archon finally desired rest and detachment to procure the essence of freedom, they too felt the chance to finally breathe. "Can you set up my awakening five hundred years from now?" Venti laid his head upon the lap of Time, teal eyes and smile somber yet gentle and reassuring. "Preferably at the peak of Ludi Harpastum, if you would allow." An hour glass manifests next to him, allowing his wish.

"When you wake, I will be here," they mumbled as the archon lets his eyelids rest, feeling a soft kiss to his forehead that lulls him to sleep.

"Tell me the tales like a balladeer." And he slumbers away the years.

"When I came to be, the Lawrence ruled over Mondstadt, governing with the most disgusting aristocracy. It was only right that they lost the blessings of thy winds, after all it is only for those who fought to be free," Venti sighed with pure disappointment, "Honestly."

"What happened to your Time friend, then? Did they tell you what happened during your sleep?"

The windborne bard looks at Paimon with a wide yet steeled gaze so daunting it made her squeak and hide behind the traveler. Who silently watches as Venti once again sighed and resigned to strumming his lyre.

"They're gone." No rhyme, no smiles, no cryptics.

Barbatos sought out the help of the winds of Teyvat to tell tale on the dwellings of the God of Time yet came out empty handed. And his only salvation, the oldest of the Seven, can only shake his head as he too does not know of the whereabouts of the God.

The fragments of time lingers in cursed windswept ballads and stories. And as the years go by, all worshipers and records had forgotten about the deity.

They only sing praise to the wind shrine now.

Now who shall nurture the stories brought by the winds?

I seem to have a knack for hurting Venti.

@creation-magician @boxofteenageideas @zelos-simp @ellitx @your-local-venti-simp @indigodreamtime47

[a-secret-bolton-vampire]

Daenerys Stormborn, Part 2: Wake the Dragon

Oh hey, I have part 2 already! Guess my brain is really focused on Dany now. In part 1, I talked about Dany's arcs from AGOT to ASOS, exploring the narrative and thematic purpose of her journey. However, the most important part of her journey occurs in ADWD, and sets the stage for some incredibly exciting developments to come in TWOW. For part 2, I'll be talking about the gradual transformation of Daenerys into a slightly different, darker character for the future.

Breaker of Chains & Mhysa

Slavery has been an important background element throughout Dany's time in Essos, even in AGOT, but it becomes front and centre in ASOS. She accepted the Dothraki, a society that uses slaves for many things, and wasn't too perturbed at the use of slaves in Qarth. However, it is in Astapor where she finally realizes just how bad the institution is, as she tells Xaro:

"Whence came this madness? Should I count myself fortunate that you did not free my own slaves when you were my guest in Qarth?" I was a beggar queen and you were Xaro of the Thirteen, Dany thought, and all you wanted were my dragons. "Your slaves seemed well treated and content. It was not till Astapor that my eyes were opened."

As mentioned last time, ASOS is when she begins to take control of her destiny, and she does so by beginning a revolution to free the slaves of Slaver's Bay. She believe she has a greater destiny lying ahead of her, that there is a reason for her dragons, the red comet. She also has great empathy for people and sees this disturbing injustice being played out with nobody to stop it. But she has the power to do so, and thus she begins by going fire and blood at Astapor, killing the Good Masters and freeing all the slaves. Afterwards, she leaves the city with a ruling council of a priest, a scholar, and a healer and moves to Yunkai.

She does a different approach with Yunkai, negotiating with the Wise Masters to surrender their slaves and to leave them in peace. And then when she arrives at Meereen, she decides to stay and rule as its queen. This is where things begin to get difficult for Daenerys. The ruling council of Astapor is overthrown by a butcher named Cleon, who said the council was conspiring to bring back slavery, who declares himself King of Astapor, enslaves the children of the former Good Masters to make new Unsullied, and tries to ally with Daenerys against Yunkai, who has resumed slavery.

Daenerys is not interested in any war with Yunkai. The reason she stays in Meereen is exactly because she learned what happened when she left Astapor. The fire and blood approach didn't work. You can't just dismantle such a deeply engrained system so easily. So instead she opts to rule, and protect the people she can. While a lot of readers view Dany's actions in Meereen as pointless, the whims of a naive girl, and poor leadership, I actually think it's the opposite.

For starters, Dany realized that she can't simply burn the slavers to end slavery, but she needs to stay and instill changes. While King Cleon repeatedly begs for Daenerys to join the war against Yunkai, she refuses, and warns Cleon to not do such a thing. She turns out to be horribly right, as Cleon is killed, Astapor is sieged, before being slaughtered, burned, and sacked, to be reinstated as a slave city once more. Likewise, the Yunkish siege Meereen, first by creating a blockade in the bay with ships, and then by having armies amassed outside the city walls.

In addition, refugees from Astapor begin to pile up outside the city, and a deadly plague called the pale mare (for the horse from Astapor that arrives at Meereen) begins to sweep the starving Astapori freedmen, who begin to resort to cannibalism to survive. Dany blames herself for leaving Astapor a mess, but does not wish to have the same thing happen in Meereen. She wants to protect the people she's freed, not just from the Yunkish, but herself as well.

When a sheepherder brings the burned bones of his daughter, Hazzea, who was killed by her dragons, Dany has Rhaegal and Viserion chained in the dungeons below the Great Pyramid to prevent them from causing any more harm. However, Drogon is still loose, unable to be found. In addition, when the sons of the harpy, a terrorist group opposed to the emancipation of Meereen, begin massacring freedmen, Dany decides to raise a tax on the Great Masters and have all families of suspect loyalty send a child to serve as a hostage and cupbearers. Yet, as the killings continue, she has grown close to the children and decides not to have them killed.

Now, some of you may notice that I am taking a lot from the Meereenese Blot essays written by Adam Feldman. That's not only because they are really well written essays, but ones that GRRM himself has approved of.

"I read those when someone pointed them out to me, and I was really pleased with them, because at least one guy got it. He got it completely, he knew exactly what I was trying to do there, and evidently I did it well enough for people who were paying attention."

So I am retreading some of the ground Feldman has laid, but it's important to do so if I am to build up to what I think is going to happen in the future of Dany's story.

As Feldman notes, Dany's own actions (or in the case of the cupbearers, inaction) actually made a peace possible, because the Yunkish saw that she was someone who is capable of mercy and not a (in their eye) violent mass murderer. Knowing what happened with Astapor, and seeing what happens when her dragons are unleashed with Hazzea, Dany decides to make peace with the Yunkish and marry Hizdahr.

Under the peace, Meereen itself would remain a free city, but the Yunkish would continue to sell slaves. They even sell them in markets outside the walls of Meereen, which displeases Daenerys extremely. In addition, slaveowners could bring their slaves into Meereen without fear of them being freed, and the Yunkish promised to respect the rights of the freedmen in Meereen. Yet, despite the peace and the progress made, she feels as though this is a defeat.

This is peace, she told herself. This is what I wanted, what I worked for, this is why I married Hizdahr. So why does it taste so much like defeat?

The thing is, Daenerys has had to sacrifice so much of herself and her morals to get to this point. Yes there is peace, even if it is tentative, Meereen would not be sacked by the Yunkish, but slavery is still going on, and she thinks that she has let herself and other people down by agreeing to peace and allowing the Yunkish to continue slavery. She has agreed to peace to people she loathes and thinks are despicable, she has married a man she does not love and does not love her, she has chained her dragons in the pit below, she has allowed the fighting pits to reopen. This comes to ahead at Daznak's Pit when she is at the height of her discomfort.

The boar buried his snout in Barsena's belly and began rooting out her entrails. The smell was more than the queen could stand. The heat, the flies, the shouts from the crowd … I cannot breathe. She lifted her veil and let it flutter away. She took her tokar off as well. The pearls rattled softly against one another as she unwound the silk.

And then Drogon arrives, and in the chaos of him attacking the boar and being attacked by the soldiers in the pit, Dany tries to calm him, but he spits fire at her, and she tries to tame him by whipping him into submission. Here, Dany is quite literally fighting herself. She herself in this moment represents the Queen of Meereen, someone who desires for peace. Meanwhile, Drogon represents the dragon inside her, who wants to unleash blood and fire on her enemies. In the end, Dany climbs onto Drogon and they fly away together, which foreshadows and symbolizes Dany's later decision to choose being the dragon.

Despite her frustrations in Meereen, the peace was a good first step. Not to say that it solved every issue, it didn't, but that doesn't need to be the end of it. Daenerys could forge new peaces, new agreements, and if she stayed in Meereen, she could implement great changes throughout Slaver's Bay. But what is done is done, and cannot be undone. The peace that was forged is now gone. Next comes war.

The House with the Red Door

Before we move on to Dany's final chapter and what that means for the future, we must take a look at a very important part of her backstory which is one of the main elements of her own story. Sure, destiny, greatness, prophecy, power, and identity are themes with Daenerys, but at the center of it all is the desire for home. Dany was born on Dragonstone, but was whisked away to Braavos, and there she lived in the house with the red door, with Viserys, Ser Willem Darry, and their servants.

To Dany, the house with the red door was the only place in her life she called home, and she has very fond memories of it, of Willem, or the lemon tree. But after Willem died, they were kicked out and forced to become beggars on the streets, selling off their possessions and travelling the Free Cities. The red door was closed and gone forever after, but the dream of having a home hasn't.

Daenerys has a desire for home, for love, for family. Throughout her childhood, Viserys would tell Dany all about Westeros, how they need to take back the Iron Throne, that the Seven Kingdoms were the most beautiful lands in the world. And sure enough, soon, Westeros represents the idea for home and belonging to Dany.

"I pray for home too," she told him, believing it. Ser Jorah laughed. "Look around you then, Khaleesi." But it was not the plains Dany saw then. It was King's Landing and the great Red Keep that Aegon the Conqueror had built. It was Dragonstone where she had been born. In her mind's eye they burned with a thousand lights, a fire blazing in every window. In her mind's eye, all the doors were red.

Although she takes on the mantle as the new head of House Targaryen and carries on Viserys's dream of taking back the Iron Throne out of a sense of duty, she also does so for desire to belong in a place she can call home. It's a nostalgic feeling she gets of the old days, that she wants to relive again.

But then other ambitions get in her way. She frees the slaves of Slaver's Bay, and decides to stay in Meereen to try to ensure that her revolution succeeds. Thus, her quest for home is put on hold. Throughout ADWD, she gives up parts of herself, to try to become one with the Meereenese; marrying Hizdahr, reopening the fighting pits, chaining her dragons, dressing in the Ghiscari fashion, and making peace. But in the Dothraki sea, hundreds of miles outside Meereen, she finds that she wasn't being her true self, that she can never be the Queen of Meereen, or become a true Meereenese.

I must keep walking. Water flows downhill. The stream will take me to the river, and the river will take me home. Except it wouldn't, not truly. Meereen was not her home, and never would be. It was a city of strange men with strange gods and stranger hair, of slavers wrapped in fringed tokars, where grace was earned through whoring, butchery was art, and dog was a delicacy. Meereen would always be the Harpy's city, and Daenerys could not be a harpy.

The series is all about the human heart in conflict with itself, and Daenerys in ADWD is one of the best examples of that. She was struggling with her two competing titles of Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, but in the end she was not comfortable with being the Breaker of Chains. This final transformation she undergoes in the Dothraki sea really sets the tone for what she will do in the future, and how she will change as a person and character.

Mother of Dragons

Daenerys X is one of the more bizarre chapters in the series, since it follows only one character alone with her thoughts, but it works extremely well as a character study, and the development over the course of the chapter is one of my favourites in the whole series. Through all the hallucinations and visions and dreams Daenerys has during this chapter, it's important to remember that they all (apart from possibly Quaithe) are her, so the discussions she has are with her own internal thoughts directly.

The topic of Targaryen madness reoccurs throughout the series, but it's ADWD where it is brought up the most. Now, the topic of Targaryen madness will be another post i will do in the far future and won't discuss in depth today, but the matter is that Dany is aware of some of it, even if she hasn't fully accepted the truth of her father. She fears that she is succumbing to the madness at points.

"Your Grace?" Missandei stood in the door of the queen's bedchamber, a lantern in her hand. "Who are you talking to?" Dany glanced back toward the persimmon tree. There was no woman there. No hooded robe, no lacquer mask, no Quaithe. A shadow. A memory. No one. She was the blood of the dragon, but Ser Barristan had warned her that in that blood there was a taint. Could I be going mad? They had called her father mad, once.

Later, she implies this fear again to Barristan.

I lived in fear for fourteen years, my lord. I woke afraid each morning and went to sleep afraid each night … but my fears were burned away the day I came forth from the fire. Only one thing frightens me now." "And what is it that you fear, sweet queen?" "I am only a foolish young girl." Dany rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. "But not so foolish as to tell you that. My men shall look at these ships. Then you shall have my answer."

But in an early version of Daenerys III, the answer Daenerys gave was "myself". She fears what would happen if she "woke the dragon", as Viserys put it. She's afraid of succumbing to the madness that consumed her father and probably was consuming Viserys. She's afraid of what would happen if she unleashed her dragons, how many innocents they would kill. But in the Dothraki sea, she begins to question her decisions, starting when she woke up after finding blood between her thighs:

"I am the blood of the dragon," she told the grass, aloud. Once, the grass whispered back, until you chained your dragons in the dark. "Drogon killed a little girl. Her name was … her name …" Dany could not recall the child's name. That made her so sad that she would have cried if all her tears had not been burned away. "I will never have a little girl. I was the Mother of Dragons." Aye, the grass said, but you turned against your children.

The importance of this quote cannot go unnoticed. She thinks about Hazzea all the time throughout the book, feeling deeply guilty about what Drogon did to her. But here, at the end, she cannot remember her name. The in world explanation is that, of course, she is delirious from being in the wilderness eating berries and being sick, but thematically this is her slowly turning away from the people she freed. Next comes a dream with Viserys (long quote incoming):

She dreamt of her dead brother. Viserys looked just as he had the last time she'd seen him. His mouth was twisted in anguish, his hair was burnt, and his face was black and smoking where the molten gold had run down across his brow and cheeks and into his eyes. "You are dead," Dany said. Murdered. Though his lips never moved, somehow she could hear his voice, whispering in her ear. You never mourned me, sister. It is hard to die unmourned. "I loved you once." Once, he said, so bitterly it made her shudder. You were supposed to be my wife, to bear me children with silver hair and purple eyes, to keep the blood of the dragon pure. I took care of you. I taught you who you were. I fed you. I sold our mother's crown to keep you fed. "You hurt me. You frightened me." Only when you woke the dragon. I loved you. "You sold me. You betrayed me." No. You were the betrayer. You turned against me, against your own blood. They cheated me. Your horsey husband and his stinking savages. They were cheats and liars. They promised me a golden crown and gave me this. He touched the molten gold that was creeping down his face, and smoke rose from his finger. "You could have had your crown," Dany told him. "My sun-and-stars would have won it for you if only you had waited." I waited long enough. I waited my whole life. I was their king, their rightful king. They laughed at me. "You should have stayed in Pentos with Magister Illyrio. Khal Drogo had to present me to the dosh khaleen, but you did not have to ride with us. That was your choice. Your mistake." Do you want to wake the dragon, you stupid little whore? Drogo's khalasar was mine. I bought them from him, a hundred thousand screamers. I paid for them with your maidenhead. "You never understood. Dothraki do not buy and sell. They give gifts and receive them. If you had waited …" I did wait. For my crown, for my throne, for you. All those years, and all I ever got was a pot of molten gold. Why did they give the dragon's eggs to you? They should have been mine. If I'd had a dragon, I would have taught the world the meaning of our words. Viserys began to laugh, until his jaw fell away from his face, smoking, and blood and molten gold ran from his mouth.

The dream terrifies Daenerys, but once again, Viserys (really herself here) is telling her she is stalling in a place she doesn't belong, that she needs to go home, that she should embrace being a dragon. The climax of this comes right after she realizes Meereen would never be her home, where she argues with Jorah (again, herself):

Meereen would always be the Harpy's city, and Daenerys could not be a harpy. Never, said the grass, in the gruff tones of Jorah Mormont. You were warned, Your Grace. Let this city be, I said. Your war is in Westeros, I told you. The voice was no more than a whisper, yet somehow Dany felt that he was walking just behind her. My bear, she thought, my old sweet bear, who loved me and betrayed me. She had missed him so. She wanted to see his ugly face, to wrap her arms around him and press herself against his chest, but she knew that if she turned around Ser Jorah would be gone. "I am dreaming," she said. "A waking dream, a walking dream. I am alone and lost." Lost, because you lingered, in a place that you were never meant to be, murmured Ser Jorah, as softly as the wind. Alone, because you sent me from your side. "You betrayed me. You informed on me, for gold." For home. Home was all I ever wanted. "And me. You wanted me." Dany had seen it in his eyes. I did, the grass whispered, sadly. "You kissed me. I never said you could, but you did. You sold me to my enemies, but you meant it when you kissed me." I gave you good counsel. Save your spears and swords for the Seven Kingdoms, I told you. Leave Meereen to the Meereenese and go west, I said. You would not listen. "I had to take Meereen or see my children starve along the march." Dany could still see the trail of corpses she had left behind her crossing the Red Waste. It was not a sight she wished to see again. "I had to take Meereen to feed my people." You took Meereen, he told her, yet still you lingered. "To be a queen." You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros. "It is such a long way," she complained. "I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl." No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words. "Fire and Blood," Daenerys told the swaying grass.

And here is where everything changes. She has spent time trying to protect innocent lives, to make peace, not war, to be loved and accepted by Meereen. But here, she decides that it is time to do away with that. Meereen is not her home, Westeros is, and it's time to wake the dragon and burn Yunkai. No longer will she be burdened by the idea of a cost of innocent lives, no longer will she fear herself, and no longer will she linger. When the time comes, she will burn her enemies and leave for Westeros.

I need to make a few things clear here, however. For one, I don't think she's mad now, this is just her resolving her internal conflict. For another, I don't care what she does to the slavers. They deserve what's coming for them. She will still care about the innocent, but she's now going to go full-blooded Targaryen and burn cities to the ground, and this will mean massive collateral damage she will try to rationalize away.

Daenerys has now transformed into a different, much darker character, which I feel will continue to define her for the rest of the series. She is now the Mother of Dragons, in her entirety, and Essos is about to bleed and burn. I really appreciate how GRRM put this together, and that she didn't stay fire and blood after Astapor. His character development is realistic, and sometimes the development is not linear. In part 3, I will be discussing predictions about Daenerys's arc and story in TWOW, more specifically what she will do in Essos.

[aftgficrec]

Dragon/Magical/mythical AU pretty please 🥺

There are just so many aus with magic, mythical creatures and fantasy out there! We’ve put a small collection together here, and you can find more in our previous recs as well as under our fantasy tag (see below). The fantasy tag is under AUs. - S

Also see...

supernatural compilation here (see top of post for further recs)

fantasy aus (with dragons!) here

HTTYD/Dragon!Andrew aus here

new/fave fantasy fics here

fave fantasy fics here

Neil as a fantasy creature here

andreil shapeshifters/soulmates/omegaverse here

long fae/magic aus here

magic/urban fantasy aus here

Neil with wings and lots of magic here

werewolf!Andrew here

fairy tale aus here

staff recs may 21 - mermay here

Greek mythology aus here

‘Spun Like Gold’ here

‘On Dragon's Wings (Under the Blue)’ here

‘Imp’ here

Of Smoke & Bone by wishbonetea [Rated M, 23905 words, incomplete, last updated Sept 21]

In general, Neil Josten managed to keep his two lives in balance. On the one hand, he was a nineteen year old art student in Prague with a part-time job in a mostly-normal coffee shop. On the other, he, Allison, and Renee worked for an inhuman creature, running errands in exchange for wishes. For the most part, these two lives rarely intersect. But it's fair to say that the Foxes bring their own brand of trouble, and Neil's two lives soon start to collide.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: recreational drug use

little ghost by redskiesandsailboats [Rated G, 5224 words, complete, 2021]

Everything comes with a price.

He should have known.

All of them should have.

But that’s the thing about hope.

Sometimes, if you let it grow past a spark, it’s so bright that it’s blinding.

Or: the one in which there is a quest with dubious guidelines, a ghost with an aversion to names, and a hero who never asked for any of this, but he keeps his promises anyways.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced murder

Our Liminal Souls by glowingbee [Rated E, 27352 words, incomplete, last updated July 21]

Neil Josten doesn't believe in Gods, ghosts, nor destiny. If there is anything he has come to believe from years of out running certain death is that, firstly, not even a perfect utopia can protect everyone and second that everyone dies alone. A born wizard with a need for adrenaline, Neil knows he can only protect himself by learning combat, languages, and magic by participating in academic tournaments that are intense physical, magical, and psychological tests that honor their lineages of magic and otherworldly-given powers.

A lapse in Neil's plans securing his passage to his next hideaway has him dumped onto the world-stage of collegiate magic tournaments after being contracted to a high-profile A1 tournament court shadowed by recent suspicious deaths and a secretive court. Neil runs the risk of his secrets finding him before he can even begin to make sense of his invisible ties to his new teammates' own pasts and deciphering strange dreams that haunt him of mother's last moments.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: blood

From The Ashes by tigerrlilyy [Not Rated, 4482 words, incomplete, last updated May 21]

After spending his entire life on the run, the death of Neil's mother throws him into a world where he's being hunted by dragons and a lot of people are wanting to see his blood spilled.

That is until he's whisked away to a special school for people just like him where he meets the beautiful asshole Andrew Minyard who seems to have a burning hatred for his existence the minute he steps foot in the school.

To top it all off? Andrew's a dragon. A dragon who wants him dead.

tw: violence, tw: minor character death, tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Fang and Stake by darkbluebox [Rated T, 2658 words, complete, 2020]

For most hunters, it would have been a wet dream: his quarry beaten, bleeding, trapped and prone before him. He might as well have been holding a stake on a silver platter. If it had been any other vampire in the world, Andrew wouldn’t have hesitated to drive the splintering chunk of wood through his chest and be done with it.

Unfortunately, Neil wasn’t any other vampire.

tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced abuse

you hit me like a vision by paleromantic [Rated G, 2181 words, complete, 2019]

Andrew opened his mouth, closed it again. “Uh, who the fuck are you?”

The man blinked, and underneath him in the water Andrew swore that he saw something moving, a quick swish under the water every once in a while. He had auburn hair like red that had cooled in the pale spring sunshine to a duller brown, and when the sun caught it it turned to copper. “You can call me Neil if you’d like, I live around here.”

BITE by poetatertot [Rated M, 23338 words, incomplete, last updated Sept. 2019]

Nathaniel was terrified. A hulking mass, all bristling fur and slavering jaws, stood and stared back at him. It was greater than any man—greater than any raven-shifter he’d ever seen. It was massive.

“Fox,” he breathed.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced abuse

A Midsummer Night's Fib by NachtGraves [Rated G, 3620 words, complete, Andreil Week 2018]

Neil doesn’t know why he did it but Nicky wasn’t going to quit and Allison had her phone out with that plotting gleam in her eyes and Dan and Matt were looking at him in certain ways and he just blurt it out: “I’m going with Andrew.”

Ouroboros by ANEMONEXVI [Rated M, 34420 words, incomplete, last updated Nov 2018]

“I don’t have any desire to be part of a group of rebels who aid townspeople and give warmongering nations the metaphorical finger,” Neil stoked his words with distain, hoping to discourage the group into the short version of the conversation he knew they were trying to have.

...

With no time to grieve the violent death of his mother, Neil finds himself alone in an unforgiving land with a heavy target on his back. In his aimlessness he encounters a group of roguish crusaders, The Foxes. A team of misfits who attempt to work together to bring peace to nations or peoples in crisis. And they want to recruit Neil for his rumored illusory magic.

But Neil's magical lineage doesn't speak of subtlety and he can't afford to catch any unwanted attention.

A roughshod fantasy/magic/government intrigue/familial drama/torture/mental and physical healing/aliens/ saga

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: cannibalism, tw: blood/gore

what light tastes like by knoxxed (badmatch) [Rated T, 6516 words, complete, Aftg Exchange 2017]

Los Angeles is Jeremy Knox’s frown of concern whenever Jean pushes himself to the point of strain, the delighted grin when Jean surprises him. It’s cat fur being one more reason to stop wearing black.

Los Angeles is Jean never once being asked to confirm or deny who or what he is.

Los Angeles takes some getting used to.

(urban fantasy AU)

A Natural History of Dragons JereJean AU by @rhododendronbeware [tumblr, 2020]

- Jean Moreau only ever wanted to study dragons but instead he gets married off to Riko Moriyama to pay off his family’s debt.

Art

Demon Neil by EstaVS on deviantart

winged neil by @mistykaru [tumblr, 2021]

demon andrew by @mistykaru [tumblr, 2021]

[artmunstudios]

What's 2 similarities & 2 differences U have noticed between Ozpin & Oscar?

Aaahh I was wondering if you were going to ask me! I’ve been seeing you around asking this question and the answers have all been interesting! So I’ll take on a response that people aren’t taking on then, yes? This will be a long post, so if anyone is interested in reading past the first analysis just click the ‘read more’!

Their Origins

Ozpin is at the core based off of two characters. One of those characters, Oscar is also connected to. There are obviously more characters and whatnot they reference, but for the sake of simplicity, I will only be addressing their clear initial inspiration. Ozpin is based off of The Wizard of Oz, also known as Professor Oz primarily in the Oz Book Series; but his full name is Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs, which he abbreviated to Ozpin Head. (Thank you @immortal-green-snom for this tidbit!!!) In the book series, after he had left in the air balloon in an attempt to help Dorothy get home, Professor Oz was revealed to have done a lot of slimy and heinous things to keep the throne of the Emerald City, and by extension, the Land of Oz itself. While he does get better in the latter books he reappears in, he was portrayed as being manipulative, a bit pathetic, but extremely intelligent and a master of illusions. I wouldn't be surprised if the writers of RWBY were trying to get that across in Ozpin's traits, but to be quite honest, they kinda failed at making him even a morally grey character, as a lot (not all, he isn't guitless, but again, a lot) of the arguments used in-show, and the FNDM itself, are all about things that were either not in his control, or something that was painted as being his fault/harmful, but was actually the opposite of the situation. The biggest example of this is Raven trying to trick Yang and Weiss into believing Ozpin had forced her and Qrow to become birds/have the ability to do so. In a lot of ways, Ozpin and Professor Oz are actually opposites of one another in terms of personalities, which may have in actuality been the overall intention CRWBY had, but we can only speculate. Professor Oz is extremely selfish, while Ozpin is selfless, even to a point where it actually becomes harmful to others. Professor Oz would have done anything to be in power, while Ozpin has done everything to relinquish himself of a position of power, which I find very interesting. This may be due to him even trying to somehow relinquish the burden the God of Light has placed on Oz as a whole, but is ultimately unable to give up that specific task. Even though, truthfully, he needed to relinquish that particular stronghold all along. Professor Oz is clearly a leader, and despite his negative traits, is actually a very good one. Ozpin...as much as I love him as a character, is not the greatest leader. He is, however, an excellent advisor/second-in-command. Professor Oz is only a mere mortal man pretending to be something more, while Ozpin is something bigger than a mortal man, but is pretending to be nothing but a man. Expanding upon this, they also are desperate to be the opposite of what they are. Professor Oz wants to be what he portrayed himself as, and for Ozpin, it's very much the same situation. There is a lot more I could say, but let's move on to Oscar!

Oscar Pine, like Ozpin, is based off of two characters at the core. Again, it is likely that he represents more than two, but for the sake of simplicity, let's discuss only the two. From the moment I saw Oscar, I knew right away that he was based off of my favorite character from the Oz Book Series...Tip. Tip, short for Tippetarius, was too a farmboy who longed for much more, who knew that there was more out there, despite being notably content in their lifestyle. The only difference was that Tip was a slave to an evil witch, but he escapes her in the second chapter with a companion. He is described as being just like any boy; rugged, mischievous, playful, and a lover of all things fun while still being quite shrewd. Unlike Ozpin and Professor Oz, Tip and Oscar are, in fact, extremely alike. Even down to their colors and appearance. Despite how Tip is colored, he actually has light brown skin (though considering the time period, we all know why this fact was dismissed), and black hair. And his treasured beanie cap was green and orange. His clothes also had a primary color scheme of brown, and were dirty due to the work he had done on the farm. Oscar and Tip have the exact same personalities, which was what affirmed to me that Oscar was meant to be his primary parallel. What got me the most was their sarcasm. Tip is still the most sarcastic and genuinely street-smart protagonists in the Oz Books. Not to say there were no other protags like that, but there was something to be said about how Tip was one of the few protagonists to actually act as a leader in the traveling group. Just like Oscar, Tip is also quite emotional, and they both have a sharp temper that they express not in loud outbursts, but by quips that you know could be quite hurtful if they wanted them to be. However, between the two, Tip is the loudest, should you put them in the same room. However, I suspect that as time goes on, Oscar might start becoming quite vocal when he doesn't like something, as I've noticed that the more he develops, the more he acts like Tip. Their behaviors are similar as well; when something personal is going on between two parties who clearly knew each other before him, both Oscar and Tip have a tendency to hang back and simply let the moment play out. They both start out as being sort of bystanders, just going with the flow while occassionally giving very good advice/strategies, but they start to become more of a leader as time goes on. In fact, leadership seems to be in their blood. There is actually a reason for this.

Ozma of Oz

There is a single thread that connects both Oscar and Ozpin, and that is the second primary character they represent. That character is the infamous Princess/Queen Ozma of Oz. Ozma, in many ways, is a lot like both Ozpin and Oscar; and may be the kind of person they become once the merging is complete. She is shrewd, but gentle. Sarcastic and blunt, but very elegant and fun-loving. They have a particular grace in how they handle their politics, but she admittedly gets into more trouble than rulers of kingdoms should. She is, ultimately, the perfect archetype of a ruler. And had completely reformed The Emerald City to be an environment that is very much like Vale's open-mindedness, with the advanced technology and efficiency of Atlas. Ozma, in the books, was actually revealed to be Tip; or rather, Tip was Ozma. After being transformed into a boy as a baby by a witch under Professor Oz's command, they were whisked away by said witch, and had been working under that witch until they had escaped as a young boy. Many speculate that Ozma was meant to represent the transgender community, and I know many transgenders see Ozma as an icon. Frank Baum was the type of guy that wrote things that were ahead of his time, and seen as very controversial by the few who could actually read the metaphors planned out. It was even implied in the later books that Ozma and Dorothy get married, and there were many illustrations made from the original novel illustrators of Ozma and Dorothy looking like a couple. What's even greater is that despite the change of gender from Tip to Ozma, she still very much contains her boyish traits despite the frills and queenly garb. As stated in one of the last lines in the second Oz Book;

"I hope none of you will care for me less than you did before. I am still the same Tip you know..."

When I realized Oscar was Tip, I knew Ozma was going to be put into the equation. I just,,,, wasn't expecting..... t h a t.

Oscar and Ozpin

Time to actually answer the question I was asked JSDJFDKDFKFK--

Oscar and Ozpin are different in one particular way: Trust. Ozpin trusts nobody. Truthfully, he doesn't even trust himself, I don't think, and that is likely why he didn't have much of a plan these days. He doesn't trust himself to be competent enough to complete the task assigned to him, he doesn't trust humanity to pass, hell, I don't think he even trusts the Gods to be capable of taking care of humanity considering the shit job they did in the past, and how poorly they have handled Ozma and Salem. In simple terms, Ozpin trusts too little. Oscar, on the other hand, trusts...a little too much. There, I said it. And I'm willing to say it again. Oscar trusts too much. Whether or not that will change after the end of V7 and what happened in V8 is left for debate. Oscar seems almost incapable of seeing the downside in some situations, like, for example, confronting a General who has completely gone off the deep end, unarmed and alone. And he trusted a man who needlessly beat the shit out of him for something that nobody, not even Salem, were truly at fault for. And while that trust paid off, unlike how it did in the past, it is a bit of an alarming trait that I genuinely think will simmer down either after all that happened in V8, or it will eventually when that trust truly bites him in the ass.

Another polarization between Oscar and Ozpin: faith. This ties in a little bit with the trust theme, but there is enough to talk about on its own. While Ozpin does believe that humanity is overall good, I think he has lost faith in their capability to work together long enough for there to be any sort of permanent peace. And, admittedly, he isn't wrong to think that. I think you would have to be very foolish if you genuinely think there will ever be a point where humanity will stop fighting amongst themselves; in other words, Ozpin is fully aware that the God of Light's task is genuinely impossible. And honestly? I think the GoL knows it is, too. Oscar has faith as well, but he views the dire circumstance in a different way that may be the key to solve the seemingly unending puzzle of Salem and their task. He gets faith in humanity not through the overall picture, but in the smallest things. Oscar likely believes that it doesn't matter if all of humanity is united, because he too knows that will never happen. But, he is certain that there is a lot more power in the smallest of unions and actions; a racist woman reforming and helping to comfort a faunaus child. A woman who helped a group of people tear down a kingdom realize the fault of their actions, and try to save another kingdom's people. A man who, while being genuinely wise, was so blinded by rage that he could not see past his own nose, change in order to save what little good has sprouted from something so terrible that he helped sow. The little things matter so much more, and unlike Ozpin, he doesn't think that they need to grow any further than that.

So, what makes them similar? Two distinct things. They both are very personal. Even if it is in different forms of expressing, Oscar and Ozpin are quite personal, especially when it comes to their advice. But they also really feel for the person they are talking to. And while Ozpin felt Hazel was too far gone, he felt for him and understood and even agreed with his anger. Their empathy is truly something else; and it is also their weakest point. Not to say that having empathy is bad, but their empathy leads into another trait that they have in common... They let people walk all over them. All. The. Time. To a point where it is actually very frustrating, and it even hinders their development as characters. Ozpin let Ironwood walk all over him, and never spoke in defense for himself. Ozpin let the council walk all over him, and never defended himself. Ozpin allowed for so much of the blame to be placed on his own shoulders, that it is extremely unhealthy, and something I wish the show would address, but have come to accept that it won't. Especially when this trait is reflected in Oscar as well. He blamed himself for failing to convince Ironwood, he allowed for Jaune to verbally and physically attack him, and outright refused to let Jaune apologize. They both brush off their wellbeing so often, that watching Oscar do the same only confirms to me the suspicions I had as to why everyone was genuinely so blind to figure out what was going on in their heads and when they were struggling. Because both Oscar and Ozpin refuse to acknowledge their own struggles and shortcomings.

But, to be frank, that is more of a writing issue than a character reflection, in my personal opinion. And I'll continue to see it that way until the show actively acknowledges that unhealthy behavior.

There ya go! My very very long analysis of Oscar and Ozpin; I hope I brought something unique among the batch of this question!

[precisemuseum]

Puyo Puyo PC-98 Manual Translation

Once upon a time, in the age when the power of magic was bestowed upon the world, a powerful sorcerer created a great spell named "Owanimo." One of the strongest spells of all, it could banish monsters to a space between dimensions, but he sealed it away, recording it only in his "Book of Magic." 

Not because it was forbidden knowledge or incredibly hard to use, but because to him, it seemed useless. And thus, the spell entered a dormant state, awaiting a day when a new sorcerer would come forth...

Years came and went until finally, the seal came undone with the appearance of a great sorceress: Arle Nadja. One day, this auburn-haired girl with golden eyes came across the Book of Magic.

"Owanimo...?" Arle studied the chapter on forbidden spells for what seemed like hours. "When four monsters of the same color are in your sights, chant this spell loudly. The Goddess of Time shall listen, and whisk the monsters away to a space between dimensions." 

Arle continued to read, learning the Owanimo spell, but then closed it with a heavy sigh once she finished.

Why set it aside like that? Well, Arle had never seen "four monsters of the same color" as the spellbook described. 

"I spent so much time reading, and it's not even a spell I can use for anything..." 

But just as fate brought the Book of Magic into Arle's hands by chance, so it brought from the world of darkness the very monsters she had read about.

And thus, a great battle awaits. With her great magic abilities, and the newfound power of "Owanimo," Arle Nadja sets out to protect the world.

CHARACTERS A・C・P

Arle Nadja The protagonist of the game and the (aspiring) sorceress who released the spell "Owanimo". Nobody knows how she ended up this way, but despite looking like she wouldn't hurt a fly, she's actually a merciless girl that slaughters innocent Puyo. She currently attends a magic school, but she's already too scary for anything to stand in her way. That's my opinion, anyway.

Carbuncle During the game, when you find your eyes moving towards the center of the screen... Awww~! He's sleeping!!! This is Carbuncle. When he's lying still, he almost looks like a loaf of bread, but as he sings and dances he shows off a wide range of movement and facial expressions. A truly profound deuteragonist.

Puyo Puyo Despite their fate as short-lived, jelly-like monsters who are stacked and popped, they have managed to secure a leading role this time around, and even get to dance on the title screen. They're sure to enjoy this special opportunity to perform on a grand stage in five different colors. Looking at them with an empty stomach will reveal their appetizing nature and make you hungry. Hehe.

Arle, the protagonist, is brimming with curiosity.

PRACTICE STAGE ENEMY MONSTERS

Skeleton T While he appears as the epitome of a tea-loving Japanese man, he is a fine monster as well. He will be the first opponent you face during your trials. But you'll find that in a rather endearing way, he's a miserable fool who doesn't even know how to rotate his Puyo. Boohoo. Sipping bitter green tea during battle will instantly make you one of his tea-drinking buddies.

Nasu Grave An eggplant. Specifically, a Kamo eggplant. On top of that, he makes for a rather strange presence. Just what the heck is this thing? Despite appearances, his defensive power is high, so novices might find themselves struggling a bit. You'll have no choice but to keep at it and apply a steady technique. But in the end, your opponent is still just an eggplant. A regular talking eggplant. …Heh.

Mummy Even though it's called Mummy, it isn't a mommy. It's a mummy. What? You already knew that? Oh, deary me, I'll wrap it up then. (←One-man comedy routine.) Mummy is an opponent that makes you want to bully it because the crying face it makes when it's about to lose is just too cute. Sorry, Mummy.

The Goddess of Time whisking the monsters away.

BATTLE STAGES 1-6

Draco Centauros As you might expect from someone who shouts "Rawr", this half-dragon being takes pride in those sharp horns. Appearing as the first obstacle of your quest, this opponent has top tier judgment and piece precision but takes forever to think things through. Because of that, she's a pitiful lass who is only ranked as a third-rate monster girl... You heard me right! Draco is a girl. I'm sure someone around you thought she was a boy...

Suketoudara A pollock who has an aura of coming from some far-off sea. However, he seems to have the character of an Edokko​. He's an athletic-type who tends to err on the side of caution. However, he's also arrogant. When he wins, he makes a face that screams "You're no match for me!", which is truly aggravating. Many say they especially don't want to lose to him.

(TL Note: Literally meaning “Child of Edo”, Edokko is refers to a person born and raised in Edo (renamed Tokyo in 1868). It implies personality traits such as being assertive, straightforward, cheerful, perhaps a bit mercantile.)

Sukiyapodes Let's just get this out of the way; he has a giant foot. It measures about 16 mon. Even though he has a complex about it, he directs that frustration into bettering himself. Well, we're not sure if that last part's true, but he always has a cheerful expression on his face as he slowly and steadily builds precise chains. He's a bit of an unpleasant guy.

(TL Note: mon is a unit of length for measuring the size of one's foot. 1 mon is equivalent to 2.4 cm. His foot is 38.4 cm, or 15.12 in.)

Harpy Now then, it is time for Miss Harpy's song. She loves singing more than she loves having three meals a day. She could sing for ages if no one stopped her. If there was something like a "Puyo Puyo World Karaoke Tournament", she'd win for sure. But unfortunately, this is only Puyo Puyo. 

Sasori Man “How d'ya do, partner? I’m a famous Naniwa salesman known 'round these parts as Sasori Man. Put 'er there! Huh? Yer askin' for my secret to success? I ain't spillin' the beans no matter how much ya beg. That's somethin' to look forward to when we do battle. Till then, happy trails.”

Panotty A flute-playing boy. But honestly, he's nothing more than a noisy, mischievous brat. He disrupts his opponent's chains by dropping large amounts of Nuisance Puyo on them. Everyone has fallen victim to his antics at least once. What a truly ruthless Puyo technique. For when his last flute sounds, the dead shall be raised. Just kidding.

BATTLE STAGES 7-12

Zombie A zombie. All of his lines are stuff like "Ugheeee." This zombie is quite the formidable trickster. Sometimes he will be swiftly defeated, and other times he will take you by surprise and suddenly pull off a huge chain. If you don't take him seriously, you'll find yourself in a tough spot. Battle with caution.

Witch In the forest stands a grand mansion. Living there was a very ordinary family whose lineage can be traced back hundreds of years. The family's only daughter was born and was raised in a very ordinary fashion. But there was one thing that was not so ordinary...That young lady was a haughty witch. Ohohoho! Ohohohoho... *fadeout*

Zou Daimaou Pawoo! The mammoth mogul has arrived! A young aristocrat who comes from an ancient and distinguished line of royal Indian elephants. An irritating fellow who likes bad puns, gives his words an elephantine quality, and casually rhymes. He also enjoys Puyo Puyo. Plus, he's strong. An aphant-garde aristocrat whose ground-shaking chains are as sharp as his tusks.

Schezo A silver-haired man with deep blue eyes. Schezo, the embodiment of picturesque beauty. However, he's been deemed a pervert thanks to Arle, and strives to restore his honor by challenging her. 

B-E-A-U-T-Y! Perfection won't pass you by!  P-R-I-N-C-E! Of the Puyo Puyo World, it's meant to be! Go now! Go forth! Show us what you're really worth! 

...Well, this has turned into something rather silly..

Minotauros Risking life and limb for his duties, a bull who lives by the code of chivalry, leaving a flurry of cherry blossoms in his wake. That is Minotauros. Ever since Rulue rescued him long ago, he has served as her devoted attendant like a faithful dog. Seeing him like this brings some to tears. For Rulue, he'd go through hell and high water. He's giving it his all today, and his one-eyed look is as cool as ever.

Rulue A woman truly worthy of the title of "Fighting Queen". The queen of the Puyo Puyo world. There's nothing that she can't obtain... Oh wait, there is something — Satan's love. Possessing a very jealous nature, Rulue is always lying in wait, ready to obliterate anyone who gets close to Satan. It's rumored that her true strength is even greater than Satan's.

BATTLE STAGE 13

Satan He is the king that rules over heaven and earth. He soars the skies with wings that slice through wind. His two horns point towards the heavens. His sharp eyes are like glistening gems. Cloaked in the veil of night, his devilish hand beckons you in. He is darkness’s cherished protege. It seems playing Puyo Puyo is a guilty pleasure of his. His true strength is unknown. It's said he's won the Puyo Puyo World Championship a countless number of times. In any case, he's obviously a bigshot. Can you truly defeat Satan, who boasts of elite skills in speed and chaining?

(You can download the PDF here)

[selfilluminatingkyu]

Dancing with the Devil(s): Chapter II

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The Underground Auction is no place for the faint of heart, nor for the weak of stomach.

F!Reader x Adult Trio; this takes place during the same timeline as Season 3 of HxH but the events with Kuropika and the crew are just shifted a little. This may end up changing though, but for now, run on that premiss. 

Warnings: Swearing; Human Trafficking (Reader is sold to the Mafia); Brief mentions of Child Abuse; Grammatical Errors (yeah I am going to warn y’all bout that.) 

Upon arriving to hotel you would be staying at until you were moved to the holding area for the auction, you were whisked away by a team of women and pampered to spa treatments like you’d never experienced before. The Don who had bought you would not be in attendance, as Yuuto, the man who you’d come to know from your…acquisition…had told you. 

“He’s sorry he can’t be here. He was actually looking forward to meeting you. But he’s certain he’ll have the opportunity later on. I think he’s of the opinion that one of the other Dons will buy you for themselves…or their sons.” Yuuto says lazily after you’ve come back from all of the pampering, undecided if you’re going to look at it as a treat or getting merchandise ready for sale. 

You didn’t know what you’d expected when he’d relayed the Don’s message to you, but it had not been that. You don’t remember how you answered, sudden exhaustion creeping up on you and causing you to nearly pass out where you stood. Looking back on it now, you wonder if you’d been drugged so that you didn’t make much of a fuss while you were waiting for the festivities to begin. You began to think that was actually the case as you were almost constantly in a fog up until you were moved the night before the auction to a different area. Something was amiss, that much, despite the brain fog, you were certain of. So there you had waited until d-day had arrived. 

You had been placed in a waiting area, to be called upon and showed around to the representatives of the wealthier families anticipated to bid on the higher ticket items (and those who had paid the hefty fee to view you prior to your scheduled debut) when Yuuto was suddenly coming in with another man, a man you had never met before but had a strange feeling to him, and were being whisked away quickly and quietly from where you were. You had felt this feeling before, when you been in the presences of those with strong nen abilities, but it wasn’t as potent as some of the people you’d crossed paths with. There had been a man once, who’s aura had caused you to stop and watch his back as he moved through the crowd. The power that radiated off of him had caused your heart to skip several beats…and not in a pleasant way. 

Since that day, you’d never felt power like that and, if you were being honest, you hoped you never did again. You don’t know what it was about that man, but it wasn’t the power he undeniably wielded that frightened you, no, it was the dark and sinister undertone to it that did. A presences that indicated to you nothing short of nefarious intentions. Sometimes though, you couldn’t help yourself and wondered about the man. Wondered if maybe you’d been to harsh in your snap judgment and that the man was the same as you: a product of his upbringing and while his abilities may have been fostered from dark ways, he did not use them as such. 

But as you sat in your new room, surrounded by other items that were going to be up for auction, you realized that it didn’t matter, not anymore at least. You hadn’t seen that man since then, some three years ago, and you doubted you would ever see him again after tonight. Not that you were sure you would even want to. Pushing the thoughts to the side, you stood up from your spot and began wandering around the room, looking at all of the pieces that were up for auction and wondered what was the most expensive item in the room when suddenly you heard shouting and gun shots, you could hear people running around as men shouted in the hallways. What they were shouting about you couldn’t understand but you knew from the tone that they were in a panic and it sounded like chaos even from inside the room. 

Turning back to all of the items in the room, you began looking around for something, anything really, to protect yourself with. Crouching down you, began peeling the lids off of boxes, before hastily putting them back into place. One after the other had weirder and weird things in them; rare items, cursed items, artifacts from long gone civilizations, mummified body parts, full mummies, and in the last lid you lift, scarlet eyes. The lid clattered to the floor as you dropped it, dropped into a squat and throwing a hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming. You had heard about the atrocity that had happened to the Kurta clan, heard the stories about their famed eyes, but to see a pair, not attached to a body, was an experience you could’ve lived several life time without. 

Placing the lid back onto the box, you bit back a whimper and sent a silent prayer into the sky, hoping that whomever these had belonged to had suffered unnecessarily. Your heart went out to them and the pain all those alike. The unnecessary violence of the world was something you had never understood, especially in this instance. While you could not lie, they were beautiful indeed, to covet something like that to go to such lengths made your stomach flip. It took a special sort of evil to find pleasure in the pain of others; it took an even greater evil to personally inflict it, knowing a life was on the line and continue forward and unabashed anyway. 

As you sad crouched, hidden by the stacks of boxes, the door flung open and before you could even lift your head up to see what was going on, you were being cloaked in darkness. 

The void wasn’t so much as being asleep as it was being locked into a padded closet, a sound proof one at that. There was no telling how long you’d been in there and after counting for several hours, you’d given up figuring at some point, you’d get out. Not wanting to alert the person, or persons, who had taken the auction items that you were included amongst those things you remained silent. Instead, you bided your time by looking through the items, investigating and continuing your search for a weapon, smearing a little of your blood from your finger, which your cut on a ragged corner, on the boxes you deemed worthy of a least inflicting enough damage to give you time to escape should your search turn up entirely useless. As you continued to move forward, you were beginning to think that’s exactly what was going to happen. You were nearing the end of boxes when you came up a necklace that caught your eye. Looking at it, you idly wondered exactly what was so special about it. It was inlaid with millions of dollar worth of precious and rare gems like the other piece you’d come upon. Nor was it something anyone of note had worn, died in, or the like, making it precious for those reasons. No, as far as you could tell, it was quite unassuming compared to all the other items you knew were to be sold and that, in and of itself, made you move cautiously. The silver chain was nice enough were you any common person purchasing it from a jeweler and the stones that rested in a sort of star pattern were lovely but again, it perplexed you as to why it was here. 

Sighing, you placed the lid back down and moved onto the other boxes before coming up empty and with that you flopped down onto the ground, or what you assume was ground in this…where exactly where you? The only thing you had heard when everything happened was a swoosh like a bag…so maybe that’s where you were? Yuuto had made a comment about the Dons having special beings at their disposal, beings who were incredible nen users. So maybe who’d ever taken you was one of them. You weren’t entirely sure and as it stood, you didn’t want to risk the element of surprise you currently had on something that might be true. For all you knew, whomever had caused the stir-up the other night had been the person who’d taken you. And if that were the case…you had no way of knowing if they were friend or foe. 

Trying to run through a plan in your head of what exactly you would do when you got out where ever it was you currently were, your “world” began to shift and suddenly the abyss you seemed to be sitting in was brought back into the world of the living and you were among not only the items in your own void, but the other items that were up for auction as well, and there were voice, several of them and all of them foreign. 

“That was uneventful.” A soft voice spoke, seemingly to take breathy pauses between each word, almost like when a compute regurgitated what you’d typed but lagged a little. Male, older than you, but not by much, he was close to you but hadn’t seemed to notice you yet. 

“Yeah, yeah, we heard you the first dozen times. You didn’t get to torture the guy like you’d hoped. We got it.” Another male voice, this one more jovial spoke but clearly agitated with the younger male. “How long you think this is gunna take?” 

“Don’t know. The boss just wants it done, so we’ll get it done.” This voice is female and you think that maybe she’s around your age or close to it. She’s the closest one to you and drawing closer with every word she takes and suddenly you’re wondering if you’ve been caught and begin calculating what is closest to you and within your reach. 

You don’t get much further in your thought when you feel a presence come up behind you and a sudden pressure on your neck, nicking it slightly causing you to wince and let out a small hiss. You wonder how you missed this man sneaking up when you suddenly feel a spike of fear run through you veins. The man behind you is powerful, very powerful but his aura is also very sinister. Sinister enough to almost make you wish that you’d been left alone to be sold. 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? A stowaway? My, my little dove, what a peculiar place to hide. Hoping to catch a show?” He whispers in your ear and the whimsical way in which he speaks almost makes you forget that he’s holding something against your neck that’s sharp enough to slide the skin, but clearly not metal as it’s not cold. 

“Hisoka, what are you doing?” The female voice from earlier sounds again and some part of you hopes that, despite clearly knowing this man, she can be a friend in this situation rather than a foe…which this man seems to be shifting into. 

Nudging you forward with his other hand, keeping the weapon close enough to make his intention known but not enough to draw anymore blood, you begin to move forward, legs and heart heavy. Unintentionally, you’d gotten your hopes up when you’d been freed from the void and hadn’t been placed back in your holding cell, thinking that maybe fate had smiled upon you. However, now, you knew that maybe you’d been cast into an even worse situation than you’d been in initially. You couldn’t be certain that these people were going to be your end…but you also couldn’t say to the alternative either. 

“Look what I found.” The man named Hisoka says, amusement laced in his words as he brings you out of the proverbial shadows and into the light that is provided by the stage and you idly realize that the auction has started back up, meaning at some point your number will come up and your clock will run out. It’s also in this moment as you watch the stage that you realize that the people in front of you are staring, probably because someone has said something to you and you have yet to respond. 

“What did you do to her Hisoka?” Another man asks, he’s handsome with his blonde hair and green eyes, but there’s something about him that makes your skin crawl and a take a step back into the man who’s guiding you forward. 

“I didn’t do anything, did I little dove? I simply found her hiding in behind some boxes. Impressive abilities to have been able to hide from us, don’t you think?” Hisoka says, startling you slightly from his face being beside yours. Turning slowly, you look at him and find that you aren’t entirely wrong when the words whimsical and magical came to mind as he spoke. 

He’s clown yet mystical in his appearance, his pink/red hair plays right into that, as does the small amount of clothing you can see. But what makes it is the lime green tear and blue star that reside under his  eyes, like cards of a suit. It’s also then that you realize what he had pressed up against your neck was a playing card. What a peculiar man, you think idly before turning your head completely forward again. 

“Regardless of whether you did something or not to her, it doesn’t answer why she’s here and what the hell should be do with her.” The girl’s voice from earlier that you heard comes from a girl who truly doesn’t seem much older than you with pink hair and an outfit that reminds you somewhat or a nurse’s attire. As petit as she might be, she radiates with power, as do the rest of the people here, but in a quiet, probably underestimated sort of way. 

“Maybe…she was willing…to risk her life…to see…us.” The small man who walks forward does not match the face you had seen in your head when you’d heard his voice initially, not that you are displeased, as he too is quite attractive. However, the look in his eye and the clear bloodlust in them makes you want to run from where you stand. The other man earlier had said that this little one had been unhappy with the amount of torture he’d gotten to inflict on someone else. 

Was that to be your fate? 

“Maybe Feitan has a point.” And finally, the only other person you heard speak steps forward. This man is just as tall as the man behind you and just as intimidating, however, he looks far more normal. “Were you willing to risk your life to catch a glimpse of the illustrious Phantom Troupe sweetheart?” The way he says it is clearly mocking, like you’re some fucked up fangirl who’s come to worship her even more fucked up idol. 

However, to worship someone, you should probably have an idea as to who they are in the first place. And you don’t think you can make it any clearer as you furrow your eyebrows and look around at the small group of people before you wondering if this is a name they’ve given themselves or one that was given to them. Either way, you try your hardest not to laugh at the hilarity of the situation you find yourself in. Are you biting back a hysterical laughter because of the ridiculousness of the situation or because you’ve come to realize just how absolutely fucked you are? 

“I’m sorry, but…am I supposed to know what that means? Phantom Troupe? I take it that means you all, but…I don’t know exactly what that means outside of that.” You say thoughtfully, hoping that if you appear non-confrontational and innocent enough, these people, who clearly more foe than friend, will simply let you be. 

The man who spoke last goes to open his mouth again before another woman walks forward, holding up her hand and making her way closer to you. She seems the most normal out of the entire lot, dressed as the presenter for the items for the auction tonight, although that’s clearly a farce because you knew the woman who was truly supposed to be doing it was much different in appearance than this woman. 

“What do you mean exactly?” She asks you thoughtfully, watching you carefully and you can’t help but wonder if she has some sort of ability that lets her read your mind…or maybe between what you say. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause confusion. I mean…I don’t know who you people are. I don’t know what is or who is the Phantom Troupe? So that would mean no, I wasn’t risking my life trying to catch a glimpse.” You say and she looks to the others before nodding and looking back towards you. 

“If you weren’t trying to catch a glimpse at us…then how did you come to be here then little dove?” Hisoka asks and you blink, trying to decide how you should go about answering them before deciding that the saying “the truth can set you free” may very well prove true in this moment. 

“Same way the rest of the items in that area did, out of where it was they had been stored.” You mutter, looking around the group as they seem to parse through what you’ve just told them. 

“You were with the items over there?” The blonde man in purple says and you nod, watching as he looks to the woman who arrives late. She nods at him and the group seems to collectively be trying to decide if you’re an item or were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time when everything went down. “So if you were with the items, then it’s safe to assume that you are one?” 

You nod again and the group seems to pause for a second before the small man who you think had been called Feitan, steps forward and speaks up. “I think we should kill her.” 

Under normal circumstances, a normal person would probably lose the color from their face as those words were uttered. Instead there is an instant cleansed feeling that takes over you. While death certainly isn’t the choice you would have had for yourself in life…you don’t know what being bought and sold would entail. However, on the flip side, you also have no idea what being left to your devices with this lot will also mean. Maybe death is the best option you have, so long as it isn’t drawn out and torturous. And if the little one is who will be dealing the final card…you aren’t so sure you’ll get a quick end. 

“The boss said to make copies of all of the items here and to present them on stage and bring the real ones back to the hideout. You know that as well as I do.” The pink haired girl says and Feitan clearly does not agree with that as he makes a noncommittal noise that alerts you to his distaste. 

“Koropi can’t make duplicates that move and talk.” The final girl says. Her speech is childlike and she cocks her head as she looks you over, as though you are a puzzle to be solved. At some point, between when you’d been pulled out from behind the crates, when they’d first started engaging with you and now, a vacuum like thing had appear in her possession and the sight of it has you thinking that if they do decide to kill you, your death will not be quick and painless like you had hoped. 

The Phantom Troupe, not all of the members you deduced after listening to them go back and forth for a little while as to what to do with you, finally decide on calling their boss and having him instruct them as to what should be done with you. The answer is simple: make a clone and do what they had done with all the other pieces, place it on a cart and wheel it in. Koropi had stated that while in most instances, he could not create something that moved and talked, he could if it were just one and he had a little something extra. The extra being your blood. 

With that, he could create a clone that would last for a little while before the effects of the blood would wear off and your clone would become like the rest of the fraudulent items. But at that point…what did it matter, the Troupe would no longer be around. 

So as you watched the woman Pakunoda wheel your clone onto the stage, you and the rest of the real items were moved, Hisoka and Machi keeping close to you as you were moved into the back of another car and driven to wherever their “hideout” was. 

As you watched the scenery, you began to run through all of the possibilities of what could happen. They had given you no hints as to what their boss was going to do with you and you couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or a curse. A blessing in that it meant if he’d decided that he was going to kill you, you would not be left to stew in it on your ride over, wondering endlessly in what way exactly he planned to off you. 

On the other side, however, was the fact that you had no idea what your fate was at this moment. Undecided if these people were going to kill you, keep you, torture you, or do god know’s what. That in and of itself was driving you mad. You simply wanted to know what exactly it was that you could expect when you got to wherever it was you were going so you’d be mentally prepared for whatever the outcome ended up being. 

“If you keep working yourself up like that, you’ll be in an absolute tizzy by the time we arrive. He won’t kill you…not right away anyway. And if he does, well…he won’t make it painful. He can be ruthless, but he’s not that evil.” Hisoka said and you looked at the imposing man beside you, wondering why he seemed to be trying to calm you down. 

From the short period of time you’d spent with the man, you had quickly grasped that he was most certainly the odd man out from the group, and by his own doing it seemed. Not only that, but it was evident that he didn’t do anything he didn’t wish too. He had motives behind every action he took and the way he went about things was with the sole purpose of achieving a goal that benefited him. If, by some chance, it happened to benefit the group as well, well then that was lovely for the group. 

So his concern caused you pause. What exactly was it that he saw in your that would benefit him? It made you question even more what was about to happen. What end could he see that you couldn’t? It wasn’t fair given that he knew exactly where, who, and what you would be up against when you go there, but still…there was just something about this situation that didn’t sit well with you, outside of the obvious reasons. 

“You seem very sure of that.” You say softly, looking out the window before turning back to look at him. You know they’re confident in themselves and their abilities, that’s evident by the fact that they have neither bound you nor covered your eyes or ears. They must know with absolute certainty that you either won’t try to escape…or won’t make it out alive. 

“I am. You pose not threat to us or him alone, nor do you have abilities that he would want—”

“Hisoka. Enough!” Machi, the pink haired girl, spits from her spot in the driver’s seat, eying you through the rearview window. “What Hisoka means to say is the Boss doesn’t kill without purpose. And your death would serve no purpose. However…that doesn’t mean you get to leave.” 

You take what she says into consideration and nod. That wasn’t anything you hadn’t already figured out. Regardless of who they were, all organized crime groups worked essentially the same. Mafia, Troupe, Gangs, ect. the thought process around them was same at the end of the day, give or take a few things, so you’d figured their own boss would run his ship the same way any other master would run theirs. Evidently, you hadn’t been mistaken in that thought process. 

The two seemed to realize they weren’t going to get much out of you after that and the car remained silent for the rest of the ride. When you pulled up to a lofty mansion with a gate and sprawling grounds, you were shocked to say the least. This was not what you had expected in the least. What you had expected was some rundown abandoned building on the edge of town away from everyone. This lavish grandeur was not it though. 

Leaning forward in your seat a little, Hisoka chuckles beside you. “Not what you were expecting little dove?” 

You didn’t bother answering instead, looking around at what you could. You didn’t see a single guard around, not that you had expected to. There didn’t seem to be any visible forms of traps or delays anywhere either. Again, they may just not be visible to you. The car pulls to a stop in front fo a set of double doors and two men walk out. One who is very large with scars on his face and the other who is tall, and just as imposing as the other, but carrying a katana. Hisoka reaches around you and opens the door, nudging you to get out as the two men walk further down the steps and closer to you. 

“Pretty sure the boss said to only bring back the auction items.” The larger man says as he eyes you carefully. 

“She was an auction item.” Machi says monotonously, coming around from the front of the car and indicating with her head to walk inside. “She’s the prize gem of the auction this year. The last item to be bid upon in the first round. You know what that means.” 

Both men seem to do a slow blink as you walk in between them and up on into the house. The entryway is beautiful, something that you would have done for your own home given the opportunity. You didn’t know if that would be an option in your future, but it was lovely to witness it nonetheless. As you walked further into the home, you highly doubted that they had decorated and then you wondered if they had acquired this home via legal ones…or by force. The thought alone dampened the beauty of the home and your internal smile fell. The look on your face remained neutral, giving nothing away and hopefully kept all of your fears and anxieties under wraps from the knowing eyes all around you. 

“I don’t remember saying anything about bringing a person back.” The voice made you stop dead in your tracks as it brought your focus to the other person in the room and your heart stopped before leaping into action. While you can’t see him, nothing more than the back of his head with his slicked back black hair, you can definitely feel him. This aura, this presence was familiar to you and the exact one you had hoped to never cross path’s with again. Sucking in a breath you hopelessly wondered what you’d done in a past life to exact this fate. 

“You said to bring all of the auction items…naturally…” Hisoka says, a smirk ever present in his speech, making you wonder if he has always been like this or if something in his life triggered this manic personality. 

The man they’re speaking to stands up and for a moment, you almost close your eyes, fear racing through your veins and irrationally making you think that if you don’t see him, don’t see his face, he won’t be able to hold that over your head; won’t be able to use that as a reason why he has to kill you. But you don’t, instead you stand stock still, like a prey praying the predator won’t snuff them out, and await a fate you doubt you’d have be able to change regardless of what you did. Instead as he rounds the sofa, you cast your eyes down, tilting your head slightly, like a submissive dog baring its throat to the alpha and hope by some miracle, this man will see you are no threat nor of any value you and let you go. 

You see feet stop in front of you and feel an ever perceptive gaze rove over your. You hold your breath and pray for mercy to any being that will hear your cry, good or bad. You don’t care, maybe even hope a little that it’s bad because surely…that would be the only type of being to defeat another of its own kind. Slowly a hand reaches out and you have to physically stop of nerve in your body from flinching. Two fingers press under your chin, the thumb resting on it as it corrects the position of your head and lifts it upwards, forcing you gently to look at the face and body it’s attached to. 

The man before you is much, much younger than you anticipated, no more than a couple years older than yourself. He’s attractive, very much so, with a prominent brow and perfect nose, large grey eyes and chiseled jaw and chin. When the members of the Troupe hadn’t spoken briefly about their boss, you had not pictured a man like this. No, initially it hadn’t been a man at all. But when they’d said “he” the vision in your head had mirrored much more closely to the man with the scars on his face and hanging ears. This man, young man, reminded you more of the grad students you saw on campus than the leader of a group of murders and thieves. 

“You know me…but did not expect me.” He voice flints about like it’s a question but their absolution in the way he says it, eyes calculative and ever watchful. 

“No, to both. I don’t know you, I have crossed paths with you before. You were in my city once, you walked by me while I was walking my sister home from school and I felt your aura. I felt crazy when the people around me didn’t seem to have a reaction at all but my entire being felt…dark.” You let your mouth get away from you before you realize it, remembering that day and how your parents had written you off. Strong Nen users weren’t common where you were from, or at least weren’t common in the fact that they flaunted their abilities. But you’d known this man was in a class of his own. Clearing your throat you blinked and cleared your eyes as you looked at him again. “And no, I didn’t expect you. Although…I’m not entirely certain what I did expect. I’m not entirely well versed in you and your ‘Phantom Troupe.’” 

The latter seems to take him and the new men by surprise. He masks his shock quickly, the other two seems to revel in it. So much so that the man with the katana begins to laugh. 

“You’ve never heard of the Phantom Troupe? Really?” He says in such an incredulous way that you almost begin to question the statement you’ve made before stopping yourself. 

“I lived quite a sheltered life so you’ll have to excuse my ignorance.” With that, they all seem to be appeased for the moment. 

The leader cocks his head to the side as he observes you before looking at the others in the room. “Help the others unload everything. While you all are doing that, I’ll have a chat with our…guest. Should you need us, we’ll be in the study.” He says and they nod, some of them grumbling as they move to go back outside. 

Although, as you are turned and ushered in the opposite direction, you notice Hisoka waiting and standing back from the group, eyes clearly on you as he watches his boss lead you in the opposite direction from them, him. There’s something in his eyes that you think resembles concern but wave it off quickly as you are certain you must be seeing things. 

Their leader was not kidding as he lead you into a large study, a room filled with books from wall to celling on one side and floor to ceiling windows on the other. There’s also a fire place, large desk and two sofas, with matching chairs and coffee table to round out the large room. It’s beautifully decorated and again, you wonder who this home actually belongs to. 

“This place isn’t your, is it?” You ask before you can stop yourself from biting your tongue and instantly feel the back of your neck heat up. 

Slip-ups like these had been common when you were younger, your natural curiosity getting the better of you. But your mother had beaten them out of you quite early on, as talking out of turn was undesirable in the wife of a high ranking man. Women were to be seen and not heard, is what you mother had told you prior to smacking you in the face. You’d learned quickly that you did not like the taste of blood in your mouth and your questions could be answered by other means. 

“It is actually. Not that it is used all that often. I bought this house some time ago. Why, did you think we had killed the people who did own it?” 

“Yes, that seemed the most logical give what little I have learned about you and yours.” He seems taken aback by your truthfulness but recovers quickly, chuckling softly under his breath. 

“According to you, you don’t know much about ‘me and mine,’ so how is it you’ve already deduced so much about us?” His question is simple enough, but there is a definite edge to it. Despite his relaxed demeanor, even as he leans back against his desk, arms slayed as if to seem nonthreatening, you can still feel the aura rolling off of him, ready to strike at a moments notice. 

“Because, for the most part, all organized crime groups run the same. Their motives might be different, and the way things are executed may vary too. But at the heart of it…there isn’t much difference.” 

“You speak as if you have experience?”

“Not quite, no.” Again, you are surprised to find that this man seems stumped by your answer but he smirks all the same, looking down at his crossed feet before back up at you from behind his fridge…and you can’t help but wonder how many women—and probably men as well, he doesn’t strike you as the discriminating type—have fallen prey to that look, they eyes, they posture and speech…like a fly in a spider’s web. 

“Care to enlighten me?” He asks gently and had you not been training for situations like this your entire life, you know you too would fall right into his web as well. 

“If you’ll pay me back in kind.” You are completely taken aback as the man laughs. It’s melodious and were you not in such a position as you were, you would have smiled and giggled yourself, ever hopeful to hear it again and again. It was a lovely sound and one you were certain he probably didn’t make often, and for that you became even more on edge. 

“Alright, consider my interest even more peaked. Who are you and why exactly has the mafia deemed you as such a valuable item to be sold?” His question shouldn’t stir-up so many emotions as it does, but as the saying goes, you are only human and the wave of emotional turmoil his question strikes in you leaves you almost gasping. 

“I’m nobody really and honestly…I don’t know what it is exactly that has everyone’s interest so peaked. Maybe my parents lied. I’m not entirely certain. All I can tell you is…is that I’ve been raised to be the perfect wife for a powerful man. My parents raised me for the sole purpose of elevating their status, their wealth, their power. You asked if I spoke from experience? While I obviously was never in a position as the wife of a crime lord, I was raised to be one and I prized myself on being an asset, not a burden. As for whether or not that alone makes me worth all of the money that the Don who bought spent on me and anticipated on being spent to purchase me…I could not tell you.”

After you complete your story, you look up from looking at your hands to see the man before you looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face, one that brought Hisoka to mind and you wondered why you kept envisioning these men to have forlorn looks on their faces. That was simply absurd and thinking like that was only going to lead you to getting seriously injured, or worse dead. No, you had to remind yourself their were worse fates than death and you had no doubt that the little one, Feitan, was more than well versed at serving that up with delight. 

He nods his head and rubs his chin, walking from his desk and over to the couch across from your own. Sitting down, he rests his elbows on his knees before looking up at you. “Tell me what you know about Nen?” 

His question throws you off a little and you furrow your brows, not entirely tracking where he’s going with this. “I know that it exists and that it has multiple subsections of it and that it’s predominately used to fit. But other than that not much.” 

“Can you tell when others have it? A strong Nen that is?” He looks at you intently as he asks and you wonder what exactly is this man’s capabilities. 

Hisoka made a comment about you not having “anything for the boss to take” and at the time, you’d given it no thought. Thinking maybe, Hisoka had meant it in a sexual way, thinking that at your age you were no longer virginal, which he was wrong about, that was one of the key selling points for you. Property to be completely dominated and never claimed by other man. Now, however, you wondered if it somehow was linked back to this man’s nen ability. 

“Yes, as I said earlier, I had felt your aura before. I can usually tell when people have a strong presence, or not. Even when it’s faint I can feel it. Usually that’s in children though or those who have no idea what Nen is. Might I ask why exactly?” 

“What about now? Can you still sense my aura?” He asks and you sit there, looking at him as though he has six heads. 

“Of course I can…why wouldn’t I be able to?” You ask him incredulously and the look of awe on his face is so prominent you know that you couldn’t have imagined it. 

“You can still see feel my aura?” 

“Yes, I’d have to be dead not to with how strong your aura is. I don’t like it.” You say, and wonder how you’ve managed to make two mistakes in the span of only a couple of minutes in this man’s presence. Deciding to go with it, as this may very well be your last day, you resolve yourself to say and ask whatever comes to mind. “I also don’t like that I don’t know your name.” 

If your first comment hadn’t thrown him, the second one certainly has seemed to and he looked at you again as if you are some wonder of the world. Eying you suspiciously before getting up and moving around. He says nothing as he walks outside the room and then comes back moments later, motioning for you to stand up. 

“If you can pass this test, I’ll tell you my name and much more.” As he says that he holds up a sash and proceeds to tie it over your eyes making sure you can not see before leading you out of the room. 

“Is this where I die?” You can’t help but ask and you can hear the breathy chuckle next to your ear. 

“No, it’s not. If anything, this may very well be the moment in which you start to truly live.” 

You continue to walk for a little bit, before he stops you, instructing you to leave the blind fold on and, probably, checking to make sure you can’t see anything. There are several people in this room, more so than earlier. And you wonder if this is all of the troupe. 

“Tell me…how many people are in this room?” He asks and you sigh. 

“Including you and I, there’s 15.” 

“And now?” He asks and this time you let a loud, exasperated sigh. 

“No one has suddenly dropped dead, so the number still remains at 15.” At that, the voices in the room seem to pick up. To say they seemed shocked is an understatement. 

“How is that even possible?”

“Has anyone like that ever existed?”

“I wasn’t…taking this…serious…let me have…another…go.” 

And so on and so forth. As more and more time seemed to tick by, the group seemed to become more and more in aw of what was going on. All the while, you were still confused and in the dark—literally and metaphorically—as to what had just happened that had them such in arms. 

“You still didn’t answer my earlier question.” You say softly, knowing he can full well hear you above all of his members questions. 

“Chrollo. Chrollo Lucilfer. That is my name kitten and you are far more extraordinary than anyone has ever given you credit for. I can’t wait to see just what it is you are fully capable of.” 

[didanawisgi]

The Stevia Myth

Dr. Bruce Fife

“When I first learned about stevia years ago, I was excited. Finally, here was a sweetener derived from an herb rather than from some chemist’s laboratory. It was a product of nature and not of man, so it had to be good. Since it contained no sugar, it was believed to have no effect on blood sugar levels and could be safely used by diabetics. It was many times sweeter than sugar so you only needed a tiny amount to give foods the same sweetness as sugar but without all the calories. It seemed like a dieter’s dream.

Marketers promoted stevia as a natural, herbal sweetener that could help control blood sugar, ease sugar cravings, aid in weight loss, and improve digestive health. It had an exotic appeal because it was derived from a rare herb found only in the wilds of South America. Stevia took on the persona of a natural, wholesome sweetener that was a far healthier choice than sugar or artificial sweeteners.

I was whisked away by all the hype and believed, like many others, that stevia was a wholesome natural sweetener that promoted good health. Stevia was added to my diet at home and I encouraged others to use it in place of sugar or artificial sweeteners. I developed many recipes using it.

However, I began to notice side effects with stevia that concerned me. I began to wonder if stevia was really as wholesome and healthy as promoters claim. This prompted me to look beyond the hype and delve into the science to uncover the facts. What I found shocked me! Much of the information we are told about stevia is more marketing hype than truth. The more I researched, the more I discovered that most of what we believe about stevia is simply not true – they’re myths and misconceptions created by promoters trying to sell a product.

Through my research, I have found many problems with stevia, more than I can include in this article, but I would like to highlight six major myths and give you the facts, all of which are verified by published medical studies and plain old common sense.

Myth 1: Stevia is harmless because it comes from a plant

Herbs are natural, harmless, and often beneficial right? That’s the image marketers give us and we have fallen for that lie hook, line, and sinker. Just because something comes from a plant does not make it wholesome or harmless.

There are many natural substances that are poisonous or otherwise harmful. Have you ever experienced the consequences of touching the leaf of a poison ivy plant or felt the pain of stinging nettle? Many poisons, such as cyanide and ricin, are derived from plants. Many dangerous drugs also come from plants.

Simply because stevia is derived from a plant does not make it harmless, let alone healthful.

Myth 2: Stevia is an herbal sweetener

We’ve all been told that stevia is an “herbal” sweetener. Nothing can be further from the truth. The sweetener that is sold in stores shares no resemblance to the stevia plant. In fact, these sweeteners should not even be called stevia, but by their chemical names rebaudioside A and stevioside. It’s all a part of the misconception that stevia marketers use to deceive the public.

The stevia sweetener you buy in the store cannot be called an herb or even a natural product; it is a highly processed, refined, purified chemical. The sweetness of stevia comes from chemicals called steviol glycosides. In the refining process, all of the vitamins, minerals, antioxidants, essential oils, and other plant components are stripped away leaving purified steviol glycosides. Some manufactures purify their products into individual steviol glycosides, primarily rebaudioside A and stevioside.

Stevia is no more natural than is sugar or cocaine. Sugar is extracted and refined from sugar beets. Cocaine is extracted and refined from cocoa leaves. Likewise, stevia sweetener is extracted and refined from stevia leaves. To call stevia an “herbal” sweetener is like calling sugar a “vegetable” sweetener because it comes from beets.

Like sugar and cocaine, purified stevia extract forms a white crystalline powder. It has no resemblance to the original herb in any way, shape, or form. It is more like a drug than it is an herb. It’s most potent drug-like effect is its sweetness, which is 200 to 300 times sweeter than sugar.

Myth 3: Stevia is not addictive

One of the major problems with sugar is that it is addicting. In fact, studies have shown that it is just as, and even more addicting than cocaine. For example, when lab rats are given free access to both cocaine and sugar, they prefer sugar over cocaine. Even rats who are already addicted to cocaine quickly switch their addiction to sugar as soon as they are offered a choice.1

People, too, become addicted to sugar. That is one of the reasons why we have an obesity epidemic. Like cocaine, sugar triggers pleasure centers in the brain that drive us to eat sweets and encourage us to overindulge. Haven’t you ever eaten a piece of chocolate and then just had to have another and another? You just had to eat more even though you knew you had eaten enough. When you ignore sound judgment and make decisions based on cravings, you are addicted.

The addiction to sugar is not isolated to just sugar, but extends to all non-caloric sweeteners as well. It is not as much a “sugar” addiction as it is a “sweet” addiction. We become addicted to the sweetness rather than to sugar itself. Non-caloric sweeteners trigger the same pleasure centers in the brain that sugar does and causes the same cravings and addictions.

Researchers tested rats using saccharine, which is completely different chemically from sugar. The results were the same. The type of sweetener didn't matter, it was the sweet taste that triggers the powerful effect, not the type of sweetener or the specific chemical makeup of the sweetener. Stevia has the same effect. When rats are given the choice between saccharine or stevia, their preference for stevia is just as strong as it is for saccharin.2

Addiction to stevia was one of the characteristics I first noticed. People would switch their addiction from sugar or aspartame to stevia once they began using it. Instead of eating desserts and junk foods sweetened with sugar, they were eating the same types of foods sweetened with stevia. And they had the same cravings for sweets. Stevia does not curb your sweet tooth at all, it feeds it, keeping sugar cravings and addictions alive and active.

Myth 4: Stevia aids in weight loss

Most people use stevia to eliminate the calories from sugar and reduce their total calorie consumption as a means to lose or maintain their weight. Yet, those people who use it are not very successful with weight loss, and those who do manage to lose weight, work very hard at it and must reduce their total calorie intake drastically, making their weight loss journey a constant, unpleasant struggle. The simple truth of the matter is that stevia and other non-caloric sweeteners do not aid in weight loss, but promote weight gain!

Studies show that when people add non-caloric sweeteners into their diets, they tend to gain weight, not lose it. This is clearly demonstrated with those people who drink diet sodas. This effect isn’t because people with weight problems tend to drink diet soda and so are more susceptible to weight gain. Even normal weight people who drink diet sodas gain weight more rapidly than those who drink the same amount of regular soda.3

Animal studies have proven that non-caloric sweeteners, in comparison to sugar, lead to greater total calorie intake, greater weight gain, and increased body fat deposition. Several large scale human studies have found the same thing.4​ The type of non-caloric sweeter makes no difference; they all have the same weight promoting effect, including stevia.5

The reason for this is that sugar activates taste receptors on the tongue that relay messages to the brain and gastrointestinal tract to release hormones and prepare for the incoming sugar calories. When non-caloric sweeteners are consumed, they activate the same sweet taste receptors on the tongue and set into motion this same process. However, when the anticipated sugar calories don’t come, hunger is intensified, which encourages overeating and weight gain. There is also a metabolic effect. Sugar stimulates metabolism immediately after eating, non-caloric sweeteners do not. So after eating a meal containing non-caloric sweeteners, more of the calories are converted into fat and packed away in storage.6

Although non-caloric sweeteners all have different chemical properties, their effect on weight gain is the same. The reason has nothing to do with their chemical makeup, or whether they come from an herb or a laboratory, but has everything to do with their intense sweetness and their lack of calories. If weight loss is your goal, you would be better off consuming real sugar than you would stevia.

Myth 5: Stevia is good for digestive health

The gastrointestinal (GI) tract is the home for trillions of microorganisms collectively called the gut microbiota. Some of these bacteria and yeasts are important to our health because they help digest food, produce vitamins, and support immune function, among other things. Some, however, are not so useful and if present in too large a number can disrupt the intestinal environment and wreak havoc on digestive function and overall health.

The overconsumption of sugar and sweets is believed to feed these potentially harmful microorganisms causing them to proliferate and disrupt the balance between the good and bad microbes. The theory is that replacing sugar with stevia will limit the amount of nourishment going to the bad bacteria, thus limiting their ability to grow and multiply, resulting in a healthier digestive tract. The major problem with this concept is the fact that both the so-called good and the bad microbes feed on the sugar and carbohydrates in the diet. So eliminating sugar “starves” the good bacteria just as much as the bad.

When you eat sugar, taste receptors trigger the release of hormones that prepare the GI tract for the incoming sugar calories. Non-caloric sweeteners produce the same response. After eating food containing non-caloric sweeteners, the GI tract is primed to receive an incoming load of sugar. When the anticipated sugar calories do not arrive, changes occur that cause a shift in the bacterial population in an unhealthy direction.

More than 90 percent of the bacterial species in the gut comes from just two major subgroups – Firmicutes and Bacteroidetes. The percentage of these two types of bacteria greatly influences a person’s weight. Obese people have 50 percent more Firmicutes and 50 percent fewer Bacteroidetes than normal weight people. Firmicutes are better adapted to breaking down foods and extracting nutrients, which causes a higher percentage of calories to be removed from digesting food. They also influence genes causing a higher rate of these calories to be converted into fat and stored in the body.7 For this reason, some people refer to Firmicutes as the obesity bacteria. The more Firmicutes you have living in your gut, the more likely you are to be overweight or obese.

Studies have clearly demonstrated that consuming non-caloric sweeteners increases Firmicutes and decreases Bacteroidetes populations in the gut, thus promoting obesity.8Researchers can take fecal samples from obese mice and transplant them into normal weight mice and cause them to become obese as well. They can also cause normal weight mice to become obese by feeding them food containing non-caloric sweeteners in place of sugar. The same thing occurs in humans. All non-caloric sweeteners, including stevia, have this effect.

Stevia disrupts the normal gut environment leading to metabolic changes that promote weight gain and alters normal digestive function.

Myth 6: Stevia is good for diabetics because it does not affect blood sugar

You would think that replacing sugar, that strongly affects blood glucose levels, with a non-caloric sweetener, which has little effect, would be of benefit to diabetics. For this reason, stevia has been promoted as a better choice than sugar for diabetics. While stevia has little effect on blood sugar levels directly, its long-term effects greatly increases the risk of insulin resistance and diabetes.

Most non-caloric sweeteners, including stevia, are not easily broken down or digested. This is the reason why they do not provide any calories. This may sound good to people who want to reduce their calorie intake, but it causes a serious problem. When glucose enters the digestive tract it triggers the release of hormones that aids in its digestion and assimilation, as a consequence, glucose is quickly absorbed and removed from the intestines. This is why it has such a dramatic effect on raising blood sugar levels.

Stevia, and other non-caloric sweeteners, also trigger the release of these same hormones. However, since non-caloric sweeteners do not break down, they are not readily absorbed. They remain in the digestive tract for extended periods of time and continually trigger the release of hormones needed to process glucose.9 While eating stevia does not have much of an effect on blood sugar levels, it does exert an enormous effect within the GI tract. As stevia travels down the GI tract it continues to activate glucose receptors. Consequently, it has the same effect in the GI tract as that of downing massive quantities of glucose. This huge hormonal influx and corresponding lack of sugar calories causes changes in microbiota colonies, alters pH, disrupts insulin regulation, causes metabolic dysfunction, and promotes weight gain, leading to insulin resistance and an increased risk of developing diabetes. If someone is not diabetic, stevia use can make them more susceptible to developing it; if a person is prediabetic it can push them into full-blown diabetes; if they are already diabetic, it can make their condition even worse.

Stevia should never be used by anyone who is diabetic or who is concerned about becoming diabetic.

Now that you have the facts about stevia, you can make an informed choice whether to use it or not. This article only touches on some of the major problems with stevia and other non-caloric sweeteners. When you look at all of the evidence, it is revealed that stevia promotes weight gain, GI disorders, and diabetes to a greater extent than sugar does. If you would like a more detailed report with accompanying references to studies, I highly recommend you read my book The Stevia Deception: The Hidden Dangers of Low-Calorie Sweeteners.”

References

1. Magalle, L., et al. Intense sweetness surpasses cocaine reward. PLoS One 2007;8e698.

2. Sciafani, A, et al. Stevia and saccharin preferences in rats and mice. Chem Senses 2010;35:433-443.

3. Fowler, SP, et al. Fueling the obesity epidemic? Artificially sweetened beverage use and long-term weight gain. Obesity (Silver Spring) 2008;16:1894-1900.

4. Blum JW, et al. Beverage consumption patterns in elementary school aged children across a two-year period. J Am Coll Nutr 2005;24:93–98.

5. Swithers, SE, et al. High-intensity sweeteners and energy balance. Physiol Behav 2010;100:55-62.

6. Yang, Q. Gain weight by “going diet?” Artificial sweeteners and the neurobiology of sugar cravings. Yale J Biol Med 2010;83:101-108.

7. Ley, RE, et al. Microbial ecology: Human gut microbes associated with obesity. Nature 2006;444:1022-1023.

8. Suez, J, et al. Artificial sweeteners induce glucose intolerance by altering the gut microbiota. Nature2014;514:181-186.

9. Mace, OJ, et al. Sweet taste receptors in rat small intestine stimulate glucose absorption through apical GLUT2. J Physiol 2007;582(Pt 1):379-392.

About the Author

Dr. Bruce Fife

brucefife.jpg

Dr. Bruce Fife is a certified nutritionist and naturopathic physician. He is the author of more than 20 books including The Coconut Oil Miracle, The New Arthritis Cure, and Stop Alzheimer's Now!: How to Prevent and Reverse Dementia, Parkinson's, ALS, Multiple Sclerosis, and Other Neurodegenerative Disorders. He serves as the

[ironharvests]

headcanon dump: yugito nii.

background: she's a product of kumogakure's "lost boy" culture. unlike other villages, kumogakure has an almost viking-like tradition of kidnapping children with potential and/or children in bad home situations, and there are entire teams dedicated to scoping out and retrieving potential assets. these teams are referred to by civilians as "sky children," "cranes," "takers," "magpies," or "crows" depending on how positively or negatively the respective civilian views them. this whisking away is seen as a "liberation" for the children and a useful acquisition for the village. by removing children from their families and having them raised with the village as their new family, it centers their loyalty around kumo. essentially, kumogakure practices the militarized version of found family/"family is who you choose, not who you are born to." having come from a neglectful household, yugito supports this culture and believes it is the best thing that ever happened to her.

last name: her family name, nii ("second place"), is not a family name at all, but a nickname that has stuck to her like a second name. kumogakure citizens do not have family names. outsiders overhear her being called nii and assume it's her surname. (her other nicknames include nekomata and bakeneko, two different but similar cat yokai.)

loyalty: she is deeply loyal to kumogakure. in the truest sense, kumogakure is her family. she loves the village and would do anything for it, including become the nibi jinchuuriki.

becoming a jinchuuriki: she volunteered to become matatabi's container shortly after she was whisked away to kumogakure. the takers scouted her due to her unique chakra system. due to a genetic mutation, yugito's chakra system is more porous than the average persons, meaning if some powerful chakra source -- for hypothesis' sake let's say a massive bijuu -- was stored inside her, she would have greater immediate access to the source, there would be more chakra bleed-through into her body, resulting in easier acclimation to the bijuu. kumogakure knew the importance of a jinchuuriki being connected physically, emotionally, and spiritually with their bijuu in order to maximize their abilities from dealing with Killer B, so when they found yugito and saw how even-tempered, loyal, and agreeable she was, they knew she was the right fit. her takers dropped hints about needing a new jinchuuriki, and loyal, adoring yugito volunteered (as much as a literal child can volunteer for such a thing anyway) to become the biju container at age three.

special abilities: all jinchuuriki possess special skills gained from their beast. yugito's include rapid regeneration, conflagration (spontaneous fire creation), enhanced feline acuity (nightvision, 200 degree peripheral vision versus a human's 180 degree periphery), enhanced olfactory system, unusually flexible backbone and feline reflexes, rapid keratin growth, chakra claws and steel claws, cat irises, the ability to understand cats, the odd premonition, and the ability to "see" or sense ghosts (okay, she doesn't know that they're ghosts and she has no intention of finding out because ghosts scare her, but sometimes she sees things no one else can see, and home girl doesn't know what the fuck to think about it. so she doesn't.)

general personality: intelligent, confident, loyal, proud, and tough. she has mentor/big sister energy and often takes young kunoichi under her wings. she is watchful and observant, decisive, and unmovable in her core values. she is generally cordial and amicable, and an overall calm, stable, straightforward, and warm presence.

general appearance: her eyes became heterochromatic and reflective (thanks tapetum lucidum!) after receiving matatabi. they glow dimly when using matatabi's unique spectral blue fire. she's 5'10 and muscular: broad shoulders, defined arms and back, rippling muscles. she's much more of a tiger than a house cat (think she-ra adora from spop.) the lapis beads worn around her arm are condensed nodes of matatabi's fire.

fun fact: she's allergic to cats. :)

[itsapapisongo]

“WEBBED SURVEILLANCE”

Pairing: None, though I won’t blame you for any spotting Ho-Yay banter/interactions.

Genre: Superhero | Comedy | One-Shot

Word Count: 2.0K

Warnings: Language

Summary: An exasperated Spider-Man (Mark Lee) trails the elusive Black Cat (Lee Taeyong) across town, hoping to knock some sense into the master thief.

Notes: This was supposed to be the first of a series of one-shots focused on original characters face-claimed by several members—from NCT to Stray Kids to SEVENTEEN—but I decided to drop the whole face-claim thing and simply go full what if x member was a superhero route instead. A choice that is partly inspired by @vernosaur​ and her awesome fic Playing Hero.

Edited: 20.09.25 (last update ) | 20.12.06 (recent update)

HE had planned to land on the floor, but it was already occupied.

“Oi!” Spider-Man exclaimed, his voice a nervous, high-pitch. “Nope!”

In the nick of time, without missing a beat and with superhuman ease, he performed an in-air flip and clung to the ceiling, arms extended to either side of his body as though to maintain balance. He didn’t need to be so theatrical but he had been caught off guard. Ignoring a reaction as visceral as this one had become harder and harder to contain; more often than not, sheer instinct kicked in and he just went with it.

Spider-Man stared in disbelief at four of the ugliest Komodo dragons he had ever laid eyes on and they glared back at him, thin tongues slithering in and out of their snouts. He could hear them hissing—or snarling, he couldn’t tell—and gulped, shocked at how late he had come to notice them. A tingling sensation notified him of potential danger but he hadn’t imagined it would be a quartet of monitor lizards casually dragging themselves on such a small apartment.

He’d set up his phone and laptop to monitor emergency channels, in hopes that it would direct him to where he could make a difference. Robberies, fires, break-ins, super villains being up to no good was what he had in mind but apparently the universe had other plans for him. And so, in a matter of minutes, a routine night of surveillance turned into a bizarre chase across the city. He had been swinging non-stop for the past hour and half, chasing the elusive Black Cat across town, mumbling to himself that he probably shouldn’t have made such a dynamic entrance in Inner Demons territory.

You gotta time your quips, man, he scolded himself when everyone hauled ass in different directions and he lost sight, albeit briefly, of the Cat. The master thief had connections with just about everyone in the crooked lane that was Enn City. Following the guy meant getting in a heap of trouble but that was already part of the job so what the hell, right? He just hadn’t considered Komodo dragons to be part of the equation.

The chase led him to the shady part of town, where the properties looked ancient and in need of a new coat of paint, and into the lost (apartment-sized) world of Komodo Land. The Black Cat had been quick to find and subsequently hide in this narrow, five-story monstrosity that oozed with not-so-chill vibes and shamelessly overpriced and claustrophobically small apartments. It reeked of neglect, nicotine, and chemicals, as though it had been repurposed for some clandestine drug operation.

Spider-Man wondered if it had been a deliberate ploy to distract him. After all he had checked the lobby and the first floor and found no sign of the master thief. What he’d found instead, much to his disgust, was the stench of the dragons’ dinner, excrement, and urine.

Just my luck, he thought, crawling across the ceiling and scanning the rest of the apartment: the door had been left ajar and there was nothing but a bucket and a mop by a corner. The pungent smell stung his nostrils even through his mask and he resisted the urge to gag by clearing his throat. One of the Komodo dragons stared, as though it could see right through him. Big bioluminescent green eyes stared back and narrowed until becoming thin slits of contempt and disgust. Behind the mask, Spider-Man cringed.

Who knew something could smell so bad?

“Good Lord,” he whispered, gently shaking his head. “You guys should think about cleaning after yourselves.”

As he shifted his weight and positioned himself to face the door, crawling slowly toward it, he saw it. A shadowy figure in the hallway outside the apartment. The figure moved itself with grace and purpose and just enough that Spider-Man caught a glimpse of his face in the dim-light of the hallway. Aware of the now incessant hissing—or snarling, Spidey still couldn’t tell—of the lizards, the figure turned toward the half-opened door then dashed into the hall.

Pushing himself off the ceiling and clinging to the door, not trusting his new Komodo besties to not take a chunk out of him, he peered into the narrow hallway and saw the Black Cat running toward the elevator. Spider-Man gracefully leapt off the door and slammed it shut behind him because there was no way in hell he was going to leave those beasts out of there.

Who waits for an elevator while they’re being chased?

Spider-Man groaned and shook his head.

The chase was on—again.

ALRIGHT, folks, let’s do this one last time.

His real name is Mark Lee.

He was bitten by a radioactive spider—or at least, he thinks it was radioactive—and for the last year and half he’s been Spider-Man. By chance, fate, or design, he’d been bitten. Just like his idol: Peter Parker, the original Spider-Man. Mark would love to call himself the One and Only Spider-Man but knows it would be a lie and disrespectful to Parker. So, in a town as big and as shady as Enn City, Mark did what he could and took up the mantle, making it his mission to live up to his idol’s example and use his powers for the greater good.

The encounter made him superhuman, granting him spider-like abilities. He can leap great distances, cling to almost any surface, and sense when something is about to threaten him, allowing him to avoid and react to danger with ease in the blink of an eye. The bite not only made him quicker on his feet but it granted him superhuman strength, stamina, reflexes, as well as enhancing other skills, such as his balance and dexterity, that he’d honed over the years as an athlete. Physical education was certainly less of a hassle after that.

The suit—black and green—represents his passion and ambition and paid homage to the original Web-Slinger by keeping the same spider symbol upon his chest and back; the web-shooters, designed by Joshua Hong and Moon Taeil, make it easier for him to move across the city and enable him to snare criminals; and the mask offers anonymity, protection, and comfort, a way to fight crime and keep his life as boring as it always has been.

Being a hero was no easy feat. Mark is aware of this. He does his very best to kick ass and take names. Life has meaning, even if it includes being pounded into the ground and fighting guys in colorful suits that possess, whether innate or manufactured, unique abilities that rival his own. New threats crawl out of the woodwork but he’s ready for all of them. Because he’s Spider-Man and it’s his duty to kick ass and keep people safe.

But sometimes, no matter how cool it might feel, being Spider-Man can be exhausting.

THE Black Cat was fast.

Not Quicksilver fast, but definitely-athlete-fast. Like, come to think of it, track-star fast. He moved with such complete control of his body that for a second Mark felt jealous of his flexibility. He dashed and shouldered a door open at the end of the corridor, promptly disappearing through it. Just then, as if on cue, the elevator binged itself open. It was empty. Obviously. The Cat had no plans on waiting for it and had been a last second attempt to lose his pursuer.

Mark sprinted after him and launched himself forward with a leap that had him cling to the ceiling then bounced on a wall and thrust himself toward the exit the Cat had improvised for himself. He noticed that the master thief’s choice of exit was the emergency staircase. Instead of descending, the Cat ascended not by foot but via grappling gun. Seconds before he was propelled upward, they came face-to-face.

The Web-Slinger, albeit reluctantly, admitted the elusive and perpetually frustrating thief was quite the looker—even if a good part of his face was still concealed by the domino mask-like goggles he was wearing. The lenses were pristine and made his eyes visible: one was dark, the other bright blue. His complexion was pale, his hair a mess of red and white. When he smirked he came across as both charming and devious, a strange mix that only added to his allure.

You seriously gotta focus, the Web-Slinger scolded himself. There’s no time for man-crushes.

In the blink of an eye, the Black Cat was whisked away and the sound of the line echoed in the empty staircase.

Seriously?

“Son of a—hey—that’s cheating!” Mark exclaimed as he leapt on the stair’s railing then aimed his web-shooter at the Cat’s feet. “Gotcha!”

Only he didn’t. The webs flew past the Cat’s head and attached themselves to the railing three stories up. Spider-Man groaned, shook his head, and released the weblines. He cracked his neck and knuckles, inhaled through his nose then exhaled through his mouth. With all the strength he could muster and crouching as low as he could, while still balancing himself on the railing, he sprung upward like a bullet. He flew, matching the Cat’s altitude, and caught him mid-air before he could disengage the line on his belt. The impact was harder and a bit more painful than expected; it was bound to be either way. Mark shrugged it off with a faint grunt. The Black Cat? Not so much.

Shooting his webs to a railing, the Web-Slinger managed to hold them suspended before completely falling. The Black Cat groaned from the whiplash but was still conscious and strong enough to smack Mark across the face, using him and the web to ascend as though he were back at climbing the rope in PE. Mark groaned despondently, his upper-lip stinging, then saw the master thief run through a door that led to the roof.

You gotta be shitting me.

He spun another web, triggering the web-shooters to pull him up, and dashed through the door as soon as he touched ground. The Black Cat, who had a decent head start, was running toward the edge of the building’s roof. He leapt on the edge and looked down, as though to prepare himself to jump. Yet, before he could he even think about doing that, two strong web-lines dragged him back. The master thief landed squarely and pathetically on his back. When he blinked and groaned, pain shooting through all of his back and some of his buttocks, he saw a pair of green eyes squinting right at him.

“Hey,” said the Black Cat, trying to conceal a smirk. “How’s it going, Webs?”

Mark tilted his head, arms crossed. “It seems like we’re in a rush, aren’t we, Puss in Boots?”

The Cat scoffed and cackled sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Though he could make another run for it, he remained on the ground. “I thought you’d be taller,” Black Cat exclaimed, sounding disappointed. “Like way taller.”

“And I thought you’d be—uh—less of—dammit.”

Mark groaned and rubbed the back of his neck when his quarry stared at him with a smug half-smile. The master thief shrugged, chuckled, then his hands moved to either side of his head faster than Mark could register it. With acrobatic ease and proficiency, the Cat performed a perfect kip up and was instantly on his feet. If he was winded and exhausted from the chase, he didn’t show it.

“Cat caught your tongue?”

“Funny,” mumbled Spider-Man. “Real funny.”

“Not as funny as this.” The Cat titled his head to the side. He was still smirking as he sang, “Oh Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream—make it the harshest pummeling I’ve ever seen.”

“What are you—?”

And there it was. A second too late but still there. His entire body buzzed, goosebumps spreading everywhere, and his head felt heavy as a wave of nausea hit him like a punch on his gut. Everything momentarily slowed down but before he could react to the danger, before he could even register it, he was swept aside with such force that felt like a van had smacked him squarely across the side. The pressure and velocity of it overwhelmed him. He flew, high and far away from the building’s roof . . . until he wasn’t. 

He didn’t know where or how he landed. He just knew, as everything turned dark, that everything hurt and there was definitely a good amount of sand in his pants.

[imomomi]

A/N: I think Ma ( @atsunflower​ ) forgot to mention this but the fan art from the banner was drawn by her🥰🥰Her art is lovely so go on and check it out. Additionally, Ma brilliantly wrote half this chapter. I love working with you and thank you so much 💖💖

Word Count: 3361

The scent of fresh rice and sake filled your nose as you took a deep breath. A warm meal was set to welcome the intelligence division of Inarizaki as you and the people from the main house waited for the guests to come. Glancing at the morning's sky, your mind wandered toward the current events: you were busy with strategic planning to avoid ruckus, trying to conciliate diplomacy and your personal life. To say Inarizaki's arrival was a setback was an understatement. You felt bothered. You hated being left in the dark with important matters. Were they suspicious of you? It didn't make any sense since you were the one who suffered the attack days prior.

"I don't like it in the slightest," you muttered as you observed the first signs of Inarizaki's entourage arriving on the hills. Shadows of red and black moved across the pathway as dust raised from the ground, you could almost feel the earth shaking underneath the horses and the wagons.

"You look displeased, Nee-san." A voice interrupted the view, making you turn to look at its owner.

"Oh, Nobuko-chan! I didn't see you there!" A warm smile took over your face as you observed the figure of your brother clad in a purple kimono. You couldn't help but admire how well it suited him. "Oh, you look so handsome!"

"It's funny how you hate the color but keep praising how royalty suits me." He mused. You couldn't prevent your face contorting in a grimace.

"It's just a color, Nobuko. Not royalty itself." He sent you a sideways glance, looking fazed by your reprimand. Nobuko decided to not dwell on it. Very often, you found yourself displeased at how haughty your younger sibling could be. You knew he was a good man, but you worried he was easily influenced by the power your clan held.

"Looks like they're reaching the gates." The male by your side murmured, observing the formation arriving. "Lighten up, dear sister, maybe their presence can be entertaining in such bitter times."

He smiled at you and stood tall and proud by your side, getting ready to welcome the guests as you did the same. The drums were beating steadily when a bannerman approached the front steps, carrying a flag dyed red and black. The man bowed respectfully before you and Nobuko and started a brief speech.

"As the hatamoto of Inarizaki, I, Michinari Akagi, announce the arrival of Military and Strategic Division of the Inarizaki Clan in the lands of Kyoto under the Minamoto rule." The black-haired man took a quick breath before his voice blared again.

"It is an honor to receive your hospitality. Please welcome Kita Shinsuke, Aran Ojiro, Suna Rintaro, Miya Atsumu, and Miya Osamu." One by one, the men got off their horses and politely bowed. They took a step closer, warily eyeing you.

"Well, it is an honor to welcome such distinguished people in our home. I’ve heard highly of you all." Bowing before them, you saw your brother stiffening at your peripheral before he mimicked your actions. “Please make yourselves at home and enjoy the meal we prepared in honor of your arrival. Could the six of you join me for a private lunch?" you requested, eyeing them with a sharp intent.

"It would be our pleasure, Onna-sama,” spoke the man you assumed to be Kita Shinsuke.

Lunch went smoothly. You were alone with them in the room, except for the maids coming and going to replenish the food. For such distinct and handsome men, they were messy and loud. You appreciated it. Even though their behaviour was deemed inappropriate by the upper castes, there was something in their comradery that was endearing.

"I apologize for them, Onna-sama," said the man on your right. The glacial stare he sent to his men had them quickly collect themselves. You covered the lower half of your face with your forearm, the silk of your purple kimono muffling the sound as you giggled. All of them seemed stunned by your actions.

"I don't mind it,” you said as you finished your meal. As the maids came to take away the dishes, you invited them to drink tea in your private garden. The only sound present was the water rushing as fish swam in the koi pond. It was your favorite place in the whole castle.

“I called you here because it's the only place in the castle no one other than me is allowed to stay." You cleared your throat, watching as they took their seats on the chabudai table. "You’re here because of the rebellion. I can't exactly pinpoint Inarizaki's intentions, but I expect you all to keep things as lowkey as possible,” you stated loud and clear. None of them reacted to your words.

"I'm honest when I say we can't tell you the reasons why we are here," said Kita, sustaining his stoic face. You felt your skin crawl under the weight of his gaze.

"I see." You hummed warily.

"Though,” he continued, “I assure you we have no ill intentions." Studying his face, you noticed a raw sharpness in the gold of his eyes, a glint that made him look dangerous. You felt unsettled.

"So, you came to investigate." Your voice sounded stern as you stated the fact, reading the room as the other men kept watching the scene unfold.

"Again, I can't exactly tell you why. But I think you wouldn't mind answering some of our questions." He gave you no room to evade him. Kita Shinsuke was a man of power and he didn't even make an effort to show it.

"Only if you don't mind answering some of mine too, Kita-san.” Cooperating while being in the dark turned the tea bitter in your mouth. But if it was for the greater good, then you would swallow your pride.

He nodded, while the others shared glances, tensing at your proposal. All their eyes were on you.

"Onna-sama, do you think there is a reason for the rebellion?"

"A lot is happening in Kyoto. Anything could motivate a riot." Your vague reply was steady and practiced, not pleasing them. The captain let out a breath, before proceeding.

"Care to elaborate?"

"You must have noticed on your way to Kyoto that there are many camps by the road, right?” you didn't wait for a reply before continuing. "There is a minor economic crisis happening in Japan. The Inarizaki Clan haven’t suffered at all, since you clan is funded by the crown, but you must know what's going on." Kita frowned and you saw Atsumu muffling a yawn.

"Your point?"

"Since the Emperor sanctioned the Tea and Sake Act, the prices on common goods rose and the economic issues worsened." You took the cup between your fingers and started fidgeting with it "Minamoto has a spare fund for emergency and we managed the problem using part of this money. The trade here is still booming and the prices are about the same. Those camps house refugees. They came here attracted by this economic stability."

"So, you're saying it's causing commotion."

"Not only that. The Emperor refused to allow them in. People are getting angry and violent because of it." You set the cup onto the table before rubbing your temples. "The siege is just aggravating their misery. The situation is under control but I'm not allowed to help them."

"It looks reason enough for a riot," You were surprised by Suna's voice. The cold and monotone timber did nothing to soothe your mind. "But not for a whole rebellion. They don't have the money, the power, nor the weapons to start it."

"Suna is right," Kita added.

"I figured that much, but I haven’t finished yet." You didn’t like the way their words implied you were dumb. "There is another issue. Not long ago, I enacted a law that prohibits prostitution in my territory."

"Ha!" Atsumu snickered in his seat. Your body went rigid at the sound of his voice as the other men glared at him.

"Any objections, Miya-san?" You bit out harshly. The blond man eyed you with interest before opening his mouth to speak.

"Don't you think it's a little naïve to think you can stop men's urges?" The Kansai accent was heavier on his voice. His provocative words burned through you. They were the same words uttered by the men who had originally tried to stop the ban, but it was your region to rule.

"Atsumu," Kita's voice blared in the open veranda, ready to scold him. You waved your hand, interrupting the captain.

"I can't stop men from doing it, Miya-san. Although there are Yūjo still working in the crown lands, if you're worried about said urges." Both his and Kita features twisted into grimaces at your reprimand. The others were sheepish enough to glance away. "The day I was seated as clan head, I made an oath to protect my people. No matter who, Miya-san." Each word rolled out of your mouth with conviction. You glanced at all of them to make clear you meant it; you knew words meant little for them since they must have dealt with all kinds of people, but sincerity was all you had to offer.

Kita's eyelids closed and his face turned serene. Your words rolled around in his mind and he analyzed all you had said, thinking of the possibilities.

"I suppose the upper castes and the owners of yūjo houses were opposed to your resolution. Has someone specific threatened you?" His question was softly spoken, eyes still closed.

"No."

"There is a lot to assess, then. We're going to start with this information," he stated.

"And what about Inari-"

Whatever you had been about to ask was cut off as one of your advisors swept into the room. Kita and the others are left to wait with a promise that your brother would see them settled before you were whisked away. There was so much to consider, things that had been missing from their reports.

He disliked politics and thought politicians were little dolls set to string, dancing around the emperor to make him laugh. But, rarely, there would be rulers who sought to cut their strings and forge their own paths. Most of them ended up dead, caught by war or rebellion as you were.

“Do you believe her?” asked Aran. His voice caught in the wind, floating to Kita’s ears only. It was hard to tell what he should believe. But, belief had no place in a mission. He had been given a task and would see it through.

“We keep her alive and quell the rebellion. It’s what we came here to do,” said Kita. He turned his attention towards Suna, watching as the quiet man blinked blearily at the scenery.

“What did you notice?” asked Kita.

“She’s nervous, but not about the rebellion. When she spoke about the refugees, she started to get upset,” Suna’s gaze trailed towards Atsumu narrowing slightly. “She got mad at him. But, she was calm, collected. I don’t think it’s a ruse.”

“Who else is close to her?” asked Osamu. He’d taken the food they’d been given during lunch and was currently snacking on it. It was that casual laziness that hung about him and Suna that made them dangerous. When they moved, it was often with a quickness that surprised their opponents.

“She has a brother. Minamoto Nobuko. He was the man that stood by her side when they greeted us.”

“Younger?”

“Yes, I am,” another voice spoke. Kita turned and met Nobuko’s soft gaze. Atsumu hissed, shoulders tensing at the sudden intrusion. Nobuko wore a friendly smile, eyes crinkled at the corners as he stood in the doorway. “Apologies for missing our meal. I had business to attend to.”

“We were well received,” said Kita slowly. Aran tapped his fingers on the table, a nervous tick that he’d developed when they were younger. Had he not noticed as well?

“Yes, my sister has a talent for making others feel welcome. Hopefully, she didn’t bore you too much. If you start asking her about taxes and laws, she’ll never finish speaking,” he laughed, shaking his head. Kita didn’t understand what was funny, but his shoulders loosened. He caught a glimpse of the siblings' lives. One raised to be a leader, sharply tongued and wary of everything, the other shielded from the harsh reality and soft from it. The gentleness that had been missing from Y/N could be found in Nobuko.

“It’s refreshing to see a leader so involved with governing,” Aran spoke. Nobuko hummed and laughed again.

“Obsessed with ruling is more accurate, but come with me. You must all be tired from your journey. We would be poor hosts to leave here.”

They stood and followed behind Nobuko as he guided them through the maze of a house. Had they not seen a map of the compound previously, they too would have been lost in the endless halls. Servants rushed from room to room, some carrying vases of fresh flowers that would have sold for three gold pieces in the marketplace. Nobuko spoke the entire time telling them that as a royal prefecture and seat of the Emperor’s Summer Court, they had first pick of the rich trade that flowed in from Osaka.

Aran stifled a laugh next to him as Suna dryly commented that the other prefectures would be annoyed to find out that the Emperor’s favor was swayed by the seasons. The man flushed and apologized, swearing them to secrecy.

“You do anything fun around here?” asked Atsumu. Nobuko shook his head and mentioned that there were a number of theaters in Kyoto, speaking passionately about the plays put on for the royal family. Kita noticed that Nobuko wore no sword and seemed to carry no weapons at all. It was unusual. Even a man of his caliber would need to take precautions, but he walked through the halls as if he were unafraid of anything.

He wondered if it was an aftereffect of being the younger heir, a kind of disobedience towards the strict controls of a noble life. He must not know, Kita thought. Was that how far a sibling's love would go? Had you hidden the attack from her brother in hopes of sparing him the worry?

“You’re very quiet,” Nobuko said to him.

“I have nothing to say,” replied Kita.

“Well, there are three things all men like. Money, women and sake.”

“I like none of those things,” said Kita. Nobuko sputtered, looking for a way to revive the conversation, but by the time they’d arrived at their rooms, he was no closer to breaking Kita’s stoic facade than he had been at the start.

“We made separate accommodations for all of you, but there is a central room here where you can take your meals,” Nobuko explained, throwing open the doors. The room was lavishly furnished, paintings from artists commissioned by the emperor hung on the walls, silk cushions were spread across the floor in front of a low wooden table.

“This room is fine. We won’t require any others.”

“Kita-san, we would not ask you to sle-”

“We don’t expect to stay long. Save your accommodations for more important guests,” said Kita. Nobuko looked as if he was about to argue, but a snicker from Atsumu stopped him. He nodded his head, informing them that a servant would be assigned to them and left them. Kita sighed, happy to be left alone.

Atsumu threw himself towards the ground, resting his head on his elbow. Suna followed with a low groan.

“I hate all this,” muttered Suna. “Can’t I just pretend to be a servant next time?”

“No,” said Aran, taking a seat, “You barely clean up after yourself. What makes you think you’d be able to clean up after someone else?”

“Leave me at home next time,” said Osamu. “If I have to pretend to laugh at that fool’s joke one more time, I’ll slit my own throat.”

“Enough, all of you,” Kita ordered. He sighed, and looked around the room. It was big enough to house all of them, but he didn’t like how central it was. Likely they had placed them there on purpose. With thin walls, it was easier to watch and listen to them.

“Stay vigilant and silent when you can,” Kita ordered. He knew that the others felt anxious, but Kita like always could feel nothing but calm. There was no sense in giving in to nerves when he had done similar things before. There might be more at stake, but Kita was not the type to make mistakes. He would not fail.

Atsumu woke in the middle of the night. Something twisted in his gut, a feeling of being watched crawled over his skin. Like always, he knew that he’d get no more rest that night. Looking to his side, Osamu snored softly in his futon on the ground, hand wrapped around the hilt of a dagger, ready to strike even in his sleep.

Kita shifted over by the desk, still awake even at the late hour. A lantern burned next to him, the heady scent of fish oil wafting in and around the room, covered only by the fresh incense laid on an altar near the middle of the room.

“Sleep,” Kita’s voice carried across the room. Although the word was spoken softly, Kita had a way of making each word carry the weight of the world. Atsumu swallowed and looked away, not wanting to admit that sleep was the last thing he wanted to do.

“What are you doing,” he asked.

“This is a list of everyone in the compound. Suitors that have come and gone, servants, seamstresses. Often the ones closest to us are the ones who betray us.”

Atsumu rubbed at an old scar. The puckered skin felt hot beneath his hand. He drew a heavy sigh, turning away from Kita.

“I’m going out,” he muttered. Drawing his robe on, he latched a short tanto blade to his side. Kita looked up. A shudder ran through him at the coldness in his eyes.

“Don’t get caught.”

“I’ll be dead if I do. And I don’t feel like dying,” Atsumu answered. He stepped over the other bodies in the room and slid the shoji open silently. Stepping out into the brisk night, Atsumu blended into the shadows. It was easier going unseen than one would think. At night, the world was dark and quiet, and people often mistook thieves for shadows. It was where Atsumu and Osamu thrived best. But, there were times when Atsumu thought that Osamu was only here because of him and the idea that he’d dragged his brother — his twin, the only person who’d never leave his side no matter what he’d done or would do — was sometimes too much to bear.

He slipped into rooms without care. A cousin slept sprawled across her too fat, too old lover; Nobuko lay across a desk in the library, sake heavy on his breath. He stole secrets beneath their noses and climbed to the roof to bask in all of it. Nothing thrilled him more than hunting after something and a hunt was only fun if you were the predator.

He lay on the roof, watching the clouds pass by the moonless sky. Once, Kita had taught him the names of all the constellations. He pretended not to listen, but in the still moments, when his heart felt like clawing out of his chest, it calmed him to remember.

In the distance, a black silhouette swooped down. A caw sounded as the bird crossed the horizon and passed over his line of sight.

Atsumu snapped up and narrowed his eyes as the bird approached the compound. The crow circled the trees, before a flash of silver shone through the night and attracted it’s attention. It flew down, disappearing behind a corner.

"A messenger crow in Kyoto,” he said to himself. A smile crossed his face that grew as he watched the bird fly off again.

Masterlist

Previous || Next

[k7l4d4]

Blood for Blood: An Owl House Story Chapter 1 Part 4

Here’s part 4! Everybody clap your hands!!

As Luz was whisked back to the tent, and the stand, she had fled earlier, the words of the crazy lady rang through her head. 

‘Customer.’ 

This woman was a saleswoman, and, going by the state of her wares and how she most likely acquired them, probably not a legal one. A soft smile climbed up Luz’s face. Okay, she could work with this. Maybe.

As she was plopped down in front of the stand, Luz finally got a good look at the stand, and it was indeed a huge mishmash of stuff of dubious quality and durability, but the most striking thing was how severely mislabeled some of the things were. 

“NOW!” 

With a jolt, she turned back to the woman, who she was starting to get the hint wasn’t actually crazy, leaning forward expectantly, giving the kind of grin Luz had been told repeatedly never to fully trust when shopping or making a deal. 

“What can I offer a fine specimen such as yourself?” So she knew flattery, good start, but she was laying it on just a shade too thick. “How about a decapitated human foot?” She held up a crock. What? 

“A torture device that forces you to chase it forever?” She plopped a slinky on the table. Again, what? 

“I know, how about a shadow box that reflects only sadness?” She finally brought over a portable mini-TV, like from the 70′s or 80′s. That’s when it struck Luz, as she glanced around at the stand, taking stock of everything in the blink of an eye. 

She literally has no idea what ANY of this stuff is or what it does! While that brought up further questions as to where exactly she was, it also brought up that spirit of adventure and generosity that just wouldn’t disappear.

As Luz couldn’t fight off the soft chuckle, she decided to throw the woman a bone. “That’s not all it can do.” 

Glancing around to refresh her memory, Luz spotted a pair of batteries stored in a bowl labeled ‘Human Candy.’ Shudder. Here’s hoping no one was stupid enough to actually buy something from that particular part of the tent, especially when she spotted both a stick of deodorant and a thumbtack within. 

Grabbing the batteries, and moving before the lady could protest, Luz deftly opened up the TV and slipped the batteries in, watching as a cringy Disco-exercise video started playing, probably whatever was put in last. As the video blared, a crowd of figures rapidly were drawn to the tent, each and every one clambering for the TV, desperate to buy it, and whatever else was available at the now much more interesting market stall.

As bids flew with greater and greater intensity, the lady turned an impressed glance Luz’s way, a slight hint of gratitude in her gaze; business must of been going pretty slow. “What did you say your name was?”

Realizing she and the strange lady had never exchanged names, which would honestly be common sense because, you know, stranger danger and all, but now Luz just felt embarrassed at her own poor manners. “I’m Luz. Luz Noceda.”

Well, Luz,” The woman began, shifting her weight to better move the goods being sold and the funds being received, which Luz noticed were definitely not dollars, “That was pretty impressive. For a human.”

Hello. If that wasn’t a flag, Luz would eat her lucky knife. It might’ve sounded dismissive, but Luz heard the note of interest, and well, she didn’t have anything better to do. Why not play along? 

“That’s a funny thing for another human to say?” Yeah, this lady was definitely no human, but why spoil the fun she was having? Both of them, that is.

“Oh, I’m not like you.” With a dramatic sweep, the woman whipped off her headband, letting her impressive mane of wild grey hair run free, exposing her sharply pointed ears to the world. An elf? Sweet! 

“I am Eda the Owl Lady! The Most Powerful Witch on the Boiling Isles!” Okay, so she was a witch. Even Better! This was like every fantasy she had ever had since taking her first life rolled into one! Or, at least, it felt like it could be. “I am respected. Feared!-”

“Busted!” Before Eda could build up her monologue any further, a pair of massive arms crashed onto the stall, goods flying and customers scattering, screaming about the guards. 

“Eda the Owl Lady, you are under arrest for contraband, illegal potioneering and enchantments, and demonic misdemeanors!” Ooo... witch criminal! No wonder Luz found herself liking her! Welp, better see where this was going. Not that she would drop her guard. Huh, she punned! 

With that thought, Luz quickly palmed one of her knives, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. She grew slightly more agitated at the sight of the guard roughly grabbing Eda by the arm. 

“You are hereby ordered to come with me to the Conformatorium.” And there it was, that name just screamed bad news.

With a harsh jerk of her arm and a scowl, Eda easily broke the larger man’s grip on her. “Would you bozos quit following me? I haven’t done squat!” 

Luz doubted that, but she wasn’t getting any genuinely bad vibes from Eda, so she thought it was safe to say that the charges were either bogus, or blown way out of proportion.

“And you are coming with us..” Say what? The guard leaned over and grabbed Luz by the back of her hoodie. This was a limited edition darn it! 

Steadying herself, Luz, despite not being able to see the face, instantly recognized the type of law enforcement this guard was; corrupt, but not in the way that could be bribed, but the kind that reveled in their power and frequently abused it, seeing themselves as above criminals. 

Yeah, she was gonna make this punk hurt. “... for fraternizing with a criminal.” Yep, corrupt, right on the money.

Seeing how this was going, Luz prepared herself to strike, waiting for the opening she knew in her gut Eda was gonna give her. “Ugh, fine, all right, you win. Just let me get my staff.” 

There it was. As she reached below the Booth, Eda whipped up in a flash, clocking the guard in front of her. Spotting her opportunity, Luz whipped herself on top of the guard’s arm, knife flashing forward, the guard avoided an interesting scar by the skin of his teeth by leaning back in the nick of time. 

As Luz flipped onto the ground, she was quickly scooped up by the overhead Eda, her staff soaring through the air, her stall compressed into an easy to carry sack slung over her shoulder.

Seeing the guards running after them, Luz decided to summarize the situation. “This is crazy. And not the fun kind! My mom is gonna kill me if I die!” 

The amused look Eda sent her way was oddly more comforting than Luz thought it should.

Luz looked down, gazing at the rapidly shifting landscape, idly tracing the environment as Eda replied. “Don’t worry, I won’t let those morons hurt you. A human like you is worth more to me alive than dead!” 

A bolt of fear rushed through Luz, one she quickly tamped down once she realized Eda would have no understanding of the true significance of what she just said.

Still, she had to ask. “Just what is that supposed to-” Any further words were cut off as the Staff and passengers took off into the sky, leaving the guards to curse in frustration, one in particular bemoaning how Eda got away again.

Eda gave an amused snort at the sight of the human girl’s eyes screwed up shut, but she supposed it was natural considering the sudden acceleration. Didn’t mean she wasn’t gonna tease her though. 

“You can open your eyes now, human.” She watched in amusement as the girl’s eyes slowly peaked open, and smirked as the awe at the sight before her came into view. Seeing newbies react to their first taste of the view was always a treat.

As Luz tried to process the sheer bizarre majesty spread out below her, she decided to, once again, summarize her thoughts aloud. “Flying staffs, crazy monsters, YOUR A WITCH!! Just what is this place?”

Eda turns and gives a fierce grin, proudly flashing her gold fang. “This is the Boiling Isles, located in the ever scenic Demon Realm! Every myth your world has is a result of some of our world interacting with some of yours.”

Luz was a little dubious of that, but she wouldn’t start up anything, this was way too awesome to pass up after all. Before she could reply, she caught sight of something overhead. “A griffon!” 

And it was, specifically a griffon with a pigeon head spewing spiders from its mouth. Huh, so that book on griffon breeds was right!

Eda smirked, feeling some measure of Isles Pride at the human’s amazement. “Yep. Griffons, vampires, werewolves, giraffes-”

Luz had to question that one, she knew for a fact that giraffes weren’t a mythological species. “Giraffes?” Noting the shudder and creeped out look Eda got at the mention of the long-necked beasts.

“Yep, we banished them a long time ago. Bunch of freaks.” She muttered the last part, easily climbing off the staff with the ease of long practice, not noticing the hand that popped off.

Luz had some questions there, but nothing pressing. Instead, she gently pried the hand off the staff, presenting it to Eda. “Here. You, uh, dropped this.”

Blinking lightly at how nonchalant the human was being about handling a severed hand, Eda had honestly thought they were wimpier than that, Eda never the less graciously accepted, popping hand back into place. 

“Thanks kid. That tends to happen every so often these days.” Luz filed that away for ‘Things to Ask Later,’ before turning to the impressive home before her. It wasn’t the biggest or most fantastic she had ever seen, but it was definitely one of the most unique and fascinating in appearance.

Turning to Eda, Luz decided beating around the bush. “So. Earlier you said that you had a use for a “human like me.” I am taking that to mean you want something, either or object or a task, but you need a human to actually get it done. And I also assume you are gonna hold that portal door of yours as leverage. Am I right?” 

Luz was a lot of things, but a fool wasn’t one of them. This whole thing smelled shady, but not the kind that she couldn’t get out of.

Eda blinked, both surprised and impressed at just how fast Luz had pieced it together, and how utterly unconcerned she was. It was, frankly, a little scary to the veteran witch how easily the girl was taking this. 

But let it never be said that Eda couldn’t roll with the best of them. “Indeed. Let’s take this inside though, make ourselves comfortable before we get into the nitty gritty.”

With her piece said, Eda took the human up to her house, waiting for Hooty to respond. “Password please!” 

Ugh, that voice of his! Not wanting to deal with this, Eda lightly jabbed Hooty in both eyes, just hard enough to hurt, but not enough for him to be angry. Hooty was an annoying idiot, but he was a loyal and powerful annoying idiot, and it wouldn’t due to endanger that, not to mention she did actually care about the menace. 

“Never mind that Hooty, just let us in!” As Hooty grumblingly did as he was told, Eda noted how Luz never once reacted to the whole exchange. Thist just kept getting more and more interesting, eh?

“Welcome.” Eda intoned, dramatically setting off the lights inside. “The Owl House!” What could she say, she loved dramatics, and she was never gonna be ashamed of it. At least the human looked impressed.

Luz let out a low whistle, taking stock of the beautiful home, cluttered with garbage and knickknacks as it was. “I gotta say, this is a sweet place. I’m assuming the talking door knocker is your security system?” 

Sure, its voice made her want to draw blood, preferably its, but it seemed loyal to her if it let her stab it in the eyes.

Once more blinking at how perspective the human child was, Eda quickly smirked, pleased that she didn’t have to explain as much. 

“Yep. His name’s Hooty, and he’s as loyal as they come. Here, I hide away from the stresses of modern life,” She plopped herself down in one of her comfier chairs, “Also the cops. Also Ex-Boyfriends. HA!” Luz cracked a smile, appreciating how feisty the older witch was.

Taking a sharper look around, Luz admitted it was a very nice place, even with all the stuff cluttering everything. It honestly kept it from feeling to spacious. 

“So, you live out here, all alone?” She was honestly curious, because if anyone could keep up with someone as spicy as the witch in front of her, she wanted to meet them.

Smirking in mischief, Eda decided to have some fun with this, subtly casting some spells that would screw around with the sound and echoes just a bit. 

“Well, I do have a roommate...” With her piece said, Eda turned to the sight of said roommate’s seemingly hulking shadow skulking down the steps, footsteps thudding all the way. She looked at the human out of the corner of her eye, expecting at least some nervousness, and was a little put off that all she saw was excitement. 

This girl really didn’t scare easy, did she?

“Who dares intrude upon I?” As the deep, rasping voice echoed down, the footsteps rattling, shadow hanging across the walls, Luz leaned forward in anticipation of the majesty about to appear before her. Her expectation slowly shifted to confusion, than curiosity, as the steps seemed to get lighter, and the shadow got smaller. 

“The KING OF DEMONS!?” She would not lose control. She would not release her emotions. She would not run over there and hug that adorable little wolf thing for all it was worth. “

QUE LINDO~!” Okay, so she would do all those things.

As she eagerly snuggled the fiercely struggling creature in her arms, Luz couldn’t help but coo. “Whose a widdle guy? Whose a widdle guy? Is it you? Is it you!?” 

Luz idly noticed the face of badly suppressed laughter across Eda’s face, and guessed this was something of a trick on both of them, but she didn’t really care.

“GaH! Stop! I don’t know who your little guy is!?” Still struggling, the tiny demon, still clad in his bath supplies, turned to Eda. “Eda, who is this monster?”

Finally getting her laughter under control, Eda decided to bring the situation back under control. Moving over to Luz, and marveling at how someone so composed could get like this so quickly, she deftly pulled her away from King. 

“This is Luz, the human. She’s here to help us with our... situation.”

At that, the annoyance faded finally, and King cheered. “Oh, hooray!”

Getting herself under control, if only barely, Luz decided to address the situation. “Yep. But if I’m gonna help, I will need some more info to work worth, you understand, right?” No way was she going into this unprepared, whatever it may be.

Eda grinned, excited at the spunk being shown by the human, and decided to get things going. “Alright!” 

With a twirl, she manifested a spell circle, which would detail King’s ‘Story.’ “King here was once a mighty king of demons,” gesturing to the fierce picture in the circle, “before his crown of power was stolen and he became” she turned, and caught sight of Luz snuggling King, an annoyed but resigned expression on his face, “This.”

Luz was having a little trouble believing it, and not just because of how cute King was, but she couldn’t deny she was intrigued. Ah well, better play along and see how this plays out. 

“You mean this bundle of joy!?” She made sure to inject just the right amount of skepticism amid her cooing into her voice.

Eda was amused, feeling that the human was more aware of this whole deal than she let on. Still, she could make this work. 

“The crown is being held by the evil Warden Wrath, kept behind a magical barrier that prevents anything magical from crossing it. And what do you know, we just happen to have a magic-less human right here!” 

She was really glad story time was done, the less she had to talk about that creep Wrath the better. “A human like you. If you help us retrieve the crown, we’ll return you to your realm safe and sound. What do you say?” Feeling she would need a little extra punch, she decided to bring out the big guns: King. “And really, who could say no to this little face?”

King squirmed in outrage; he hated it when Eda tried to weaponize his appearance, it was so demeaning! “No! Please don’t encourage her!” The less time he had to spend in that monster grip, the better, thank you very much!

Luz was far less worried than she probably should be. This whole situation was shady as hell. She was still concerned she might actually BE in hell. But, she couldn’t deny, this was way too fun to stop now! “Where do we gotta go?”

Eda grinned. She knew there was a reason she was liking this kid! “Somewhere super fun!”

Because I am starting to get tired, I’ll upload the last part of chapter 1 tomorrow, peace!

[thestraggletag]

Creature Comforts, a Dragon!Rumbelle Sequel

Summary: The morning after the storm. Sequel to Creature Instincts.

Rating: PG-13

He woke up some time during the night, disoriented from having fallen asleep somewhere other than his bed. He noticed idly that there was light coming from the kitchen, which meant the power was back. But the heating would take time warming up the house, big and old as it was, so he tried to disentangle himself from Belle to tend to the fire. 

“Let me, I’m closer.”

Belle rose, unselfconscious of her nudity, and pecked him on the cheek before reaching out to the neat stack of firewood and tossing a couple of logs into the dying embers of the fire. He watched in fascination as she reared back, taking a deep breath before blowing a steady blue plume of fire, setting the wood aflame. He noticed her eyes shone greater as she breathed fire. He had noticed his do the same. He marvelled at how small she was, how dainty and fragile-looking, and yet how it was all a ruse, well-crafted lie. She was a creature of power, with more strength and stamina that a human could ever hope to have.

‘A perfect match for us.’ The creature inside him was curled up, still seemingly satisfied by their recent rough coupling. It had never felt so before after sex, quite the contrary. It disliked being constrained and limited, being told to hold back, to be softer, or gentler or altogether less. He hadn’t had to hold back with Belle, with her thick skin and brute force. His muscles ached in a way they never had before. She had given him as good as she got and it felt wonderful, to be so tired, so spent.

“You look at me like I’m unreal, it’s very flattering, but strange. Haven’t you met any of our kind before?”

Belle shifted till she was draped over him, arms folded on his chest and chin propped up over them, peering at him curiously with sleepy eyes. She felt soft and loose above him, not an ounce of tension in her body. 

‘We tucked her out. How lovely.’ The creature purred, pressing against the edges of his consciousness. ‘Let’s do it again.’

It was possibly giddy, like a child, and it made him giddy too. He shook his head, telling her his only encounters with those of his kind were from far away and long ago, people in passing that had smelt a bit like him from a distance. 

“I’ve heard tales, and tracked down stories. I have come across antiques that were obviously once part of another dragon’s hoard, by the smell and feel of them. But that’s about as close as I’ve gotten.” He stroked her back, loving the sleek texture of her scales, and how warm she was. A furnace, just like him. “What about you?”

“Mom died when I was little, but her family kept in touch, helped me growing up. Introduced me to a small community of dragons in Australia. Mostly male dragons, I think everyone was hoping for a bit of matchmaking since females are rare, or so I’m told. Didn’t quite work out. I wanted… love. Settling for ‘someone of my own species’ felt like short-changing myself. Gave in to my urge to see the world partly to get away from a persistent jerk who didn’t know the meaning of the word no.” She wrinkled her nose, which he found adorable. Vaguely he tried to make himself adopt a less dopey expression, but his face would not budge.  

Suddenly she frowned, as if a new, puzzling thought had crossed her mind.

“Did you even know I was like you?”

He shook his head, seeing no point in lying, as much as it embarrassed him that he had not put the clues together before. Her eyes softened even more, a dreamy expression in them.

“I thought for sure you knew. That it was why you first paid attention to me, why you enjoyed sparring with me. It’s a very traditional courting practice amongst our kind, and it was the first time I found myself wanting to participate. I found our fights… stimulating.” The heated look in her eyes, coupled with her words, sent a jolt of sudden, scorching pleasure down his spine.

“Oh, it is safe to say I enjoyed them as well. I just didn’t know how much. My son and my daughter-in-law, I’m afraid to say, cottoned on to my interest in you before I did. The creature in me always knew, though, tried to tell me. I wasn’t listening. We… we don’t always get along.”

It was an understatement. Growing up inhuman had been difficult. He had been alone in a world full of people. He had had to figure everything out on his own, about what he was, and what it meant. How to survive. How to live around people without hurting them, and without them hurting him in return. He had never quite figured that part out, truthfully. It had been hard, and painful, and… lonely. So, so lonely.

“I’ve seen it looking at me.” Belle smiled, reaching out to pet his hair. “I would be fighting with you over extra funds to expand the selection of Latin American authors at the library and it would flash across your eyes. It always thrilled me.”

The creature preened, clearly not immune to flattery. It was strange but pleasant to feel in sync with it, it happened so rarely. Her look darkened, her own pupils becoming slits as her eyes shone unnaturally blue. He had but a moment to brace himself before she pounced on him, her inhuman strength still taking him by surprise in spite of it all, thrilling him as if it was a new discovery. They were rougher with each other, more comfortable now that they knew without a shadow of a doubt that they could not hurt each other easily. It was the sort of uninhibited, passionate coupling he had always restrained himself from and it felt wonderful. She had certainly ruined him for other women. And he hoped that her loud moans and her many orgasms meant he had had a similar impact on her.

When they woke up again it was close to eleven o’clock, a shockingly late hour to be waking up. Reluctantly they left the comfort of their improvised nest and donned their clothes, if only to keep themselves in check long enough to eat something. It was Saturday, as rent-day always fell on a Friday, and though he usually opened his shop for a half workday he always took off Saturdays after rent-day, usually to recover enough to don his human facade again. It was a day he usually enjoyed, with a hearty breakfast and, if the weather permitted, some time outside lazing in the sun, or if not taking care of his treasures, and browsing antique websites to see what caught his fancy.

It was strange not to feel a frisson of excitement at the prospect of growing his hoard, but he reasoned that greater biological impulses were at play. Instincts he had never had a chance to explore. 

‘And given how she’s looking at us we’re not the only ones with a one-track mind.’

The creature thrilled happily, its unbridled joy mixing with his own as they both stared at Belle, who was idly whisking a few egg-whites into a merengue and shooting covert looks their way. In the light of the morning her silver skin took a soft pink undertone, barely perceptible. He was fascinated by it, by the sleek feel of her scales and their warmth. She was so tiny, and so kind, and so gentle. He had seen her interact with children, soothe irritated elderly library patrons who could not find the book they were looking for, and evade the advances of slimy men like Keith Nott a couple of times at Granny’s. And yet there was this whole other part of her, a part she didn’t show others, could never show. He alone would know her, all of her, and the possessiveness he felt at the prospect was heady.

‘Ours. Mate.’

The creature rumbled, clearly pleased, and nudged Rowan forward, telling him that surely food could wait for later. He was about to reach out and snag the librarian about the waist, her smell letting him know she would not shoo him away, when he caught the sound of his Facetime ringer. Bae sometimes called on Saturday mornings to check on him, if rent-day had seemed like it had worn him out a bit much, and there was a chance he might have heard about the blackout from Emma’s foster sister, who lived in Storybrooke. He whispered against her lips that he would be quick and moved the tablet to face away from where Belle was, swiping to take the call with the practiced ease of someone used to manipulating touch technology with claws.

“Hey, Bae. How’s everyone?”

“Hi, pops! Emma is still asleep, she came home only a few hours ago. Little Henry is watching The Dragon Prince on her tablet. Keeps him quiet.”

It seemed to amuse Bae a little bit too much that Henry’s favourite TV shows usually were about dragons, as before he had been obsessed with Jake Long and Dragon Booster before that. Rowan had learned to pretend he didn’t notice, though he had to admit that it did please him a bit. He was hoping to let Emma in on his secret so it would be easier to tell Henry, when the time came.

“I heard about the blackout from Emma, and wanted to check in. The storm yesterday was pretty bad, and that old Queen Anne gets cold really fast without electricity.”

He couldn’t help but be warmed by Bae’s worry, even and he cursed his timing. He assured him that he was alright, having spent the night by the fire in the living-room, and that the power was back on and the house was properly heated once more.

“I’m glad, pop. Hope your favourite librarian is okay too. Perhaps you could go over to her house with a bottle of wine and check up on her.”

He waggled his eyebrows, which Rowan was glad Belle could not see. She could, however, hear everything, made all the more evident by the amused smile on her face, and her raised eyebrows. Fucking Baden.

“Let’s not start this again, I-”

“No, pops, come on. You’re gaga over that woman. You talk about her so much I sometimes feel like I know her more than I know my own wife. Emma agrees. Hell, even little Henry could name at least three of her favourite outfits. Including her heels, which I gotta tell you gives me a glimpse into you that I would rather not have.”

He was too busy turning an almost orangey shade of gold out of embarrassment to register at first that Belle had broken into peals of laughter, which she tried in vain to suppress. Bae, however, heard right away, his eyes turning round and panicky on the screen.

“Oh my God, pops, is someone there?! Is Belle there?! Do you know that you’re-I mean, that you look-”

Bae had gone through a terrified phase in adolescence after he had become acutely aware of the danger his father faced if his nature was exposed. It had broken his heart to see it, but he had thankfully grown out of it once it had become clear that it was unlikely to happen. Clearly, though, he wasn’t as unbothered by the notion as he seemed. He was trying to figure out how to reassure him when Belle took a few steps towards him, pausing to give him a significant look. At his surprised nod she crossed the remaining distance until she was snuggling against his side, smiling shyly and looking distinctly non-human.

“Hi, I’m Belle. Rowan has told me so much about you. Can I call you Bae?”

From inside the tablet his son let out a surprised “eep” that his sensitive ears objected to loudly. He looked at Belle, clearly taking in her silver skin and glowing eyes, and then at his papa, going back and forth with an air of shock and surprise that was almost insulting. Then, slowly, a lopsided smile formed across his unshaven face.

“Pop, you lucky dog!” He started slow-clapping, which made him wish the earth would open up and swallow him whole. “I mean, what are to odds! And the implications. I wanna know everything. Well, not everything. Definitely not everything. Like, please, no. But still, I have questions. So many questions.”

Rowan eyed the end call button, trying to imagine just how mad Bae would be if he pressed it.

“Buuuuuut I can see I interrupted something so I’m just gonna get Henry dressed and go with him to the park. You know, give you two crazy kids some time.” Okay, perhaps Bae was not the worst son ever. “But I will be expecting a call later. And for you to send Emma a message confirming the relationship so she’s forced to fork over the fifty bucks she lost. Don’t forget about that, pops, love you, talk to you soon!”

He was gone a second later, leaving him feeling Belle trembling with laughter against him. He marvelled at how at ease she felt, even though he knew exposing one’s true nature to someone was a huge thing. A sign of trust, of intimacy, of-

Commitment. 

‘Yes. Ours. Always.’

The creature said it matter of factly, as if he was stating the obvious to a particularly thick-headed individual. He shushed it, though half-heartedly, and pressed a kiss against Belle’s hair, whispering a quick “thank you” before going over to where his French press was, determined to make a mockery out of Granny’s lattes. The sooner Belle saw the benefits of breakfasting at his house the better.

[plaguedquillfeathers]

In the Aether: A Dream SMP Deity AU

❝ Even gods bleed. The issue is that, in the aether, they’ve chosen to bleed willingly.❞

So I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I’ve decided to post it regardless of if I actually go through with it completely!

Have a Dream SMP, but they’re all gods!

Basically, think of the dream smp, but instead of them just being members, they’re the gods that control how the world exists. Think about it: villagers being so fearful of which god decides to whisk them away for wars and creatures of the night trying to kill them for existing only to have themselves harvested for obviously magical properties? Fun as heck!

Anyway, here’s some notable deity titles (with more under the thread)!

Dream as the God of Desires -- of wishes, even dreams themselves. Nothing can be can be concrete without that spark to make it flare, but as his need to fulfil everyone's desires grew deeper, he fell into a dangerous loop. His own wish for things to "go back to normal", to have control, has thus corrupted what he thought he knew, poisoning the minds of all under his watch. The aether’s darling child, he is the reason the gods came together under one sky.

JSchlatt as the God of Conflict. Originally banished to maintain order, he returned with the sole purpose of creating friction -- of tipping the scales. In his death, he still won, for the friction is now more present than ever. They all need him to have a purpose, to have something to fight for. He knew that all along, and oh, would he do it again.

Philza as the God of Life and Death. Since both concepts can only be separated by a moment not noticed by many, he likes to only go by the god of life. Unfortunately, things don't work that way. 

Technoblade as the God of Anarchy -- of that pesky thing that refuses to have an order. The voices are the lost essence of all forms of chaos, refusing to fade off into the aether. They fuel the Blood God, yes, but their chaos is addictive. It’s uncontainable. 

Wilbur Soot as the God of Imagination (and budding god of music!). His idea of creation was corrupted beyond compare, leading to his demise. Ghostbur, however, is something else entirely...Or is he?

Tommy(Innit) as the presumed God of Mischief, but actually the God of Rebellion. Always pushing the envelope, he's young and slowly understanding himself. It's a slow process, but with control being a major factor in the deities’ realm, it’s a struggle.

Tubbo as the God of Loyalty, of keeping oaths. He’s still reeling from the greatest oath he had to break with his best friend, as well as the continuously broken loyalties of his allies. However, his oath to Tommy remains strong, despite the cracks in their armor.

Eret as the Deity of Fate, with eyes that mirror what life could be for a person if they stare into them. They maintain the museum as a way to show that things were always bound to happen. It was always meant to be. Hmm, but what if...

Nihachu being the Goddess of Freedom, scorned one too many times because her kindness was taken advantage of, not to mention her message being corrupted to further agendas that soon went against her very being. 

Fundy being the God of “The Crossroads” -- of Choice. He is still too young and inexperienced to understand his own power, endlessly seeking others to make his choices for him 

Ranboo as the God of Memory, lost in his own mind as he tries to recover what he has lost. He needs to find those shades of grey again, but as the realm continuously shifts, he can’t help but feel hopeless at times.

Awesamdude as the God of Knowledge, objective and impartial, emotions hidden for the sake of learning all there is to know. He is known far and wide for some of the most elaborate things, so it's no shock that feeds off the desire to create something greater; however, while Dream is willing to exploit this, Sam is highly aware that things are off(tm). 

Quackity as the God of Transformation -- of change, really. Like fundy, he was soon manipulated into seeking out the meaning of his worth, which had disastrous (and lingering) results. 

Karl Jacobs as the God of Time. People underestimate him because he’s so damn nice to everyone, but given that he sees so many timelines, he’s learned that being happy in the moment is the best action.

Callahan as the God of Silence, but actually the God of Intuition. In silence, one can truly hear their true intentions. He never speaks a word, for the gods know he already knows. 

Sapnap as the self-proclaimed God of the Hunt, but officially known as the God of Passion. Having harnessed flame like a well loved pet, his skills (and determination) surpass even the most angry of blazes.

CaptainPuffy as the Goddess of Victory. She’s very good friends with a lot of people, but her competitiveness does cause some messy situations. Somehow, she’s managed to get into Dream’s radar, and she worries for him. 

GeorgeNotFound as the God of Luck. Having avoided much conflict and stayed naïve to many things, it's not a surprise that his presence among Dream seems to boost the God's infallible air. 

BadBoyHalo as the God of Protection. He's bound to skeppy by choice, but tends to focus more on keeping those he deems worthy safe. The fact that a mysterious egg has corrupted him of all people should be hella concerning...

Skeppy as the God of Mischief. Funnily enough, he gets along will with Techno despite their obvious differences, while being one of the few that manages to get Bad to loosen up without much effort.

Antfrost as the God of Healing, usually seen around the inherent healer that is nature itself. He’s a master of alchemy, and an animal lover.

Punz as the God of Strategy. He’s a seemingly close ally of dream, but willing to switch sides if the battlelines shift. He is well respected amongst many deities and uses that power to breeze through conflict with ease.

Alyssa the Goddess of Travel. A rather rare figure to see, but she's the reason gods have a safe journey into the lands they all inhabit. 

Ponk as the God of Sacrifice. A callback to his cat killing days, he believes that one cannot take without giving. Sometimes, you must lose something to gain something in return.

JackManifoldTV is the God of Abundance, given his previous obsession with Manifoldland. He's constantly underestimated, but he realizes his worth when he cheats death. He's always been more than enough... it's time to prove it.

Purpled as the God of Courage. He's not afraid to stand by his thoughts, usually rubbing off on those he is currently protecting. An important ally to have in a fight.

ConnorEatsPants as the God of Charm. He utilises this to get out of bad situations, mostly. if he can avoid the more brutal gods, He's happy that way, even managing to get into Conflict’s good graces.

Hbomb as the God of Fun. He’s always trying to cut through the chaos that is the deities with something that brings them together, even if it’s for a little while.

Vikkstar as the God of Inspiration. As one of the oldest gods present, and a massive inspiration to a lot of them, he tries not to interfere, instead making his home with his friend and waiting for the younger ones to sort their shit out.

Lazarbeam as the God of Tradition. He remembers the days before these newer gods roamed, watching silently as they figure themselves out. Like Vikk, he doesn’t get involved.

 FoolishGamers as the God of Rebirth. A recent addition, and actually an offshoot of Philza’s side of things, he’s still settling in. Perhaps, he can be of assistance...Hopefully he picks the right side.

Slimecicle & Hannahxxrose as the God/Goddess of -- Well, TBA.

And a Bonus:

MrBeast as the God of Charity! Everyone loves him. That is all.

[gon2ba1e]

Dragon Ball Z fan fiction

What if Gohan used the time chamber during the Majin Buu saga?

Part 8

Within Babidi’s spaceship, the mad wizard stands near his predecseor’s creation, incredibly dismayed. Each of his minions were bested by these saiyans. They didn’t even exhaust themselves whilst killing them. What’s more, the meter on Majin Buu’s ball has risen to only 83%. Babidi knows he is short on time. He has one trick up his sleeve; turn one of the saiyans against the others. Like the original storyline, Babidi chooses Vegeta as his new minion. Vegeta’s jealousy towards Gohan and Goku give Vegeta a greater boost in power. Eager to see the extent of Vegeta’s new power, Babidi teleports the Supreme Kai and the saiyans to the tournament. 

Present

Videl and 18 stand near Gohan, Goku, and Supreme Kai; their eyes were glued to Vegeta. Videl is the first to pop the obvious question.

“Gohan...what’s going on with your friend? Why does he have that “M” on his head like that Spopovich guy?”

“It’s Babidi’s work! The mad wizard Supreme kai mentioned. He’s used magic to get into Vegeta’s mind, making him his minion.”

“I-is it permanent?”

Supreme Kai speaks up.

“So long as Babidi is alive yes.”

This, along with Vegeta’s increasingly negative aura, makes Videl and 18 even more unsettled. At this time, Bulma is looking intently at Vegeta, completely confused as to what’s going on with him. She barely even recognized him. Goten and Trunks make it to the ring and see the state Vegeta is in. Trunks approaches his dad and says,

“Dad, what’s going on?? Your energy...it doesn’t feel right at all!”

Vegeta doesn’t speak a word to Trunks; he doesn’t even acknowledge his presence. Trunks becomes more worried.

“Dad!! Why won’t you say something?! You’re scaring me!!”

Vegeta still doesn’t do anything. Trunks grabs his hand and pulls on it while saying “Dad!!”. Vegeta finally responds by yanking his hand from Trunks’ and slapping him out of the ring. Everyone is utterly shocked by Vegeta’s actions. Bulma being the most shocked. Vegeta then extends his arm to the right side of the stadium. He shoots a ki blast at the spectators. 18 flies to the spectators and deflects the ki blast into the air. Immediately after that, Vegeta shoots another ki blast. This one goes right through 18’s abdomen and the spectators behind her were vaporized. 18 is flung to the ring, clutching her abdomen as it bled profusely. Goten and Videl rush to 18’s side, tending to her wound.

“Vegeta!!” Bulma finally calls out to her husband. “Stop this right now!! You’re better than this!!!”

“SHUT UP WOMAN!! Your words mean nothing to me!!!”

Bulma and Trunks are speechless and absolutely horrified. This is not the Vegeta they knew and loved. This is a monster. Trunks runs to Goku’s side and hides behind his leg. Bulma begins to weep.

“Kakarot!! You will fight me now!!”

Goku is nothing but dumbstruck.

“I’d advise against turning me down this time. Not unless you want the casualties to increase by a few hundred.”

Suddenly, Goku realizes what has happened to Vegeta. He states Vegeta allowed Babidi to take control of his mind. Gohan and Supreme Kai are in disbelief. Goku demands Vegeta to admit his true motives. Vegeta simply raises his hand to the left side of the stadium and charges his Big Bang Attack. Goku tries to rush Vegeta but Vegeta turns his attack on Gohan, who flies back to the spectators behind them. Gohan and the entirety of the stadium are engulfed in flames. Goku has never been more heartbroken and horrified in his life. Goten, Supreme Kai, Videl, Bulma, Chi Chi, Yamcha, and 18 are just as terrified. No one can feel Gohan’s ki. Vegeta chuckles maniacally at Goku’s predicament.

With tears running down his face, Goku runs to his son’s aid. Vegeta jumps in front of Goku, punching him to the ground.

“Accept your son’s fate Kakarot!! Refuse to fight me again and I’ll kill everyone else you love. Starting with your youngest son!!”

Goku slowly gets back on his feet, with Supreme Kai’s help. More tears pour out of Goku’s eyes as his heart overflows with sorrow, anger, and fear. Goku can’t bear to look at Vegeta. All he thinks about is how he failed to protect his son. Then, the smoke and fire from behind Vegeta are whisked away. Gohan stands among the wreckage. His uniform is tattered and covered in blood. He clutches a bloodied hole in his chest, staring at Vegeta. Gohan’s aura projects nothing but anger. In fact, Gohan’s anger is what’s keeping him alive. All of Gohan’s family and friends are incredibly relived to see Gohan survive Vegeta’s attack. Goku immediately teleports to Gohan, holding onto his son tightly while helping him rest on the ground.

Almost everyone else follows suit. Vegeta is absolutely furious.

“You half-breed bastard!!! Just Die!!!”

Vegeta raises his hand towards Gohan but is suddenly ensnared in a mystic bind from Supreme Kai. In fact, the binds are intensified to cut through Vegeta’s skin, keeping him in place for the moment.

“You’re by far the most pitiful mortal I’ve ever seen, Vegeta.” Supreme Kai says with chagrin.

Around this time, Krillin arrives on the scene. He witnessed the explosions and Vegeta’s suddenly evil energy and rushed to the tournament as fast as possible. From up above the tournament, he sees his friends gathered around a mortally injured Gohan and his wife 18 in bad shape as well. He drops down in front of everyone and turns to Gohan. Goku is the first to acknowledge Krillin’s presence.

“Krillin! You’re not stone anymore!”

“Yeah and neither is Piccolo. I have senzu beans!”

Krillin approaches Gohan and gives him a senzu beam to eat. Videl is understandably skeptical.

“I’m sorry, how’s THAT supposed to help Gohan?!!”

“Just watch!”

After Gohan swallows the bean, he feels his wounds disappear instantly and rises to his feet. Videl is speechless.

“I told you!”

Goku, Chi Chi, and Goten embrace Gohan tightly, simply overjoyed.

Krillin and Bulma tend to 18. Bulma tells the couple she can repair 18 in her lab but they must move quickly. After embracing Gohan, Goku looks him in the eye and says,

“I’m so sorry Gohan! I should’ve done something! I shouldn’t have let Vegeta hurt you! I’ll make it up to you! I-”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself dad. No one would’ve thought Vegeta would go so far. He’s the one at fault. Not you.”

Goku is surprised by Gohan’s words to say the least.

“Son Goku!”

Goku turns his attention to Supreme Kai, who is visibly struggling to keep Vegeta at bay.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but I can’t hold onto Vegeta much longer!”

Goku turns back to Gohan, who replies,

“He’s not going to stop. You have to fight him. Supreme Kai and I will handle Babidi and Buu.”

Goku nods and says,

“I’ll come right back to you when I win. I promise.”

Goku and Gohan embrace each other one more time and Goku approaches a nearly freed Vegeta.

End of chapter

*I own none of the characters from the Dragon Ball universe. I also do not own any of the pictures associated with the Dragon Ball universe. I cropped the one with Goku holding Gohan.*