#why must i only have these stupid flaps

[thirstyvampyr]

Oh to be a man and have the strength to fling another man across a room like he weighs no more than a bag of potatoes

[xxsabitoxx]

Unfortunate [Teaser] full fic has been posted

Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi x AFAB! Reader

Warning the full length fic will include the following: gang banging, dub-con / non-con, forced oral, forced orgasm, BDSM themes… which just means they aren’t easy on you whatsoever, humiliation, bukkake, outdoor sex, brain washing, etc etc etc

A/N: so I will say, this fic is going to be a darker one. I don’t think I’ve ever written like… full on non-con… honestly this fic will somehow lean towards dub-con anyways. Like let’s be honest, it’s gonna be a very morally gray fic. I mean we aren’t moral people let’s be real.

You had fucked up, big time. “Such a stupid thing! You couldn’t figure out that we wanted you to do this?” The green eyed demon laughed again, watching as you looked between the three of them. Laughing just a bit harder as you realized only three of them stood before you. “I-but…” there was a fourth. You were certain of it… so where the hell did he go? “Karaku…you’re so loud…” the blue eyed demon whined, eyes locked on you as he referred to the green eyed demon. “Shut it, Aizetsu.”

The red eyed one spoke again, staff hovering just a bit off the ground as he scowled at you. “You’re probably wondering where the fourth one went, huh sugar?” The green eyed demon taunted you, completely torn, you couldn’t figure out where to look. If your eyes left the three of them they’d likely attack. If you didn’t try to figure out the location of the fourth, it was likely he’d kill you instead. “C’mon, little slayer… Show us what you got…” the blue eyed demon spoke, voice somber and eyes filled with sadness.

“Urogi, quit playing around.” The red eyed demon bellowed, another name, but your brain was going too fast to remember it. The flapping of wings pulled you from your daze, head whipping in the direction of the noise but it was too late. Two claws grabbed around your waist, the sudden thrust upward knocking your blade straight from your grasp. A scream of shock left you as you were torn straight off the ground, head flying upwards to see what had grabbed you. Somehow, it was the fourth demon.

He looked just as the other three did, the only differences being his eyes and his limbs. Golden eyes stared down at you, a familiar smirk on his lips. Instead of arms and legs, he had claws. His limbs resembled that of a bird or reptile, large wings expanding behind him. You jerked as he stopped, hovering in the air as he looked you over. It wasn’t until he raised his legs that you realized he was using them to grasp you opposed to his arms. “What a pathetic thing you are…” he laughed as he let you go.

You began to plummet to the ground, body and mind so disconnected from your reality that you couldn’t even muster a scream before he swooped down to grab you again. Now, you were facing him, eyes wide and chest heaving. “You humans are so easy to break… though I must say I’ve never seen the fighting spirit leave someone as quickly as it left you.” He admired your petrified face, slowly descending until he was in earshot of his other halves. “Yah know, Sekido? We shouldn’t kill her just yet…”

His eyes trailed over your body, a cruel grin covering his face as he spoke. “Why don’t we have some fun with her? It’s been years since I’ve gotten my fill of human…desire.” The implications had you feeling hot, panic ebbing up the back of your neck as you squirmed in his grasp. “Oh? There it is…” he dropped you a moment later. The fall wasn’t a big one but it still hurt when you hit the ground. The panic was mixing with dread as you realized what the situation was turning to. “Fun? Urogi why can’t we just eat her…” the blue eyed demon whined softly as he stared at you.

“Oi, Aizetsu don’t be such a prude…” the green eyed demon spoke, walking over to where you sat on the ground. He crouched before you, smiling in a way that made you want to run. “She’d certainly have a good time, don’t you think Sekido? You know we need your approval to do anything…” he turned to look at the red eyed demon, a soft thump behind you told you that the winged demon had landed. You met the red eyed demon’s gaze, swallowing thickly as you waited for him to decide your fate.

“There are rules…you know. We each get a turn, no hogging her.” You got the chills, listening intently to the demons conversing about having their way with you. “Listen here, sugar.” The green eyed demon grabbed your face, keeping your attention on him as he spoke. “We’re gonna have a hell of a time with you… satisfy us and maybe we’ll let you leave here with your life.” Behind you, the winged demon snickered, feet dragging on the ground as he too crouched behind you. “You’ll be able to satisfy the four of us with your body, right?”

[marvelmymarvel]

The Uchiha

Tobirama Senju x Uchiha!Reader

Synopsis: He hated all Uchihas, every last one of them. But you? You were somehow different... And he didn't like that.

Important note: I know the timeline/ages are OFF as Tobirama was 39 when he became Hokage. Let's pretend he was 25 :)

Naruto Masterlist: Here

Also, Tobirama drinks respect women juice. It's canon in this house.

Madara's huff of annoyance sounded out in the room as you turned down yet another suitor. "Sister, why must you sabotage every proposal that comes your way? I'm trying to help you find a husband-"

"I do not wish to get married yet Madara, I'm only 21" You bit back, arms crossed as you pouted up at him. This whole 'suitor' search had been going on for months now, and you were growing tired of the good-for-nothing men your brother brought your way. "And when do you expect to finally be "ready" for marriage, Y/n... Your time is running out-"

"I'm only 21"

You always hated the idea of marrying young and it was the Uchiha way to be married by the time you turned 22. As the head of the clan, Madara was having a very hard time accepting that you were not willing to follow protocols when he was already struggling to maintain power amongst the members. "Y/n please..."

He sounded so pitiful, so tired... But you were done with this conversation. Standing from your spot on the floor, you brushed off the dirt from your dress and started towards the door "We can talk about this later, I want to go for a walk"

"You can't run from this forever Y/n. You will be married within the next 6 months"

You slammed the sliding door shut, eyes rolling in anger as you took off towards the town. "How could he be so selfish, trying to set me up with men that I clearly have no interest in" you huffed out to yourself quietly as you stormed past members of the clan. Some sent you glares, others averted their gazes knowing that one wrong look would mean certain death from either you or your brother.

Your body relaxed as you entered Konoha's downtown area, the Uchiha section and its demands of you were now far away. The sound of the people bustling around the market filled you with joy. There were many girls that were around your age sitting around outside of a cafe, they seemed to be laughing about some stupid thing that had happened to one of them. It was so simple but it was a reality you yearned for.

Sometimes you hated being a part of the clan. They were just so far behind the times and it felt almost suffocating to exist among their stuffy ideologies.

'You're supposed to get married young and give your husband as many children as he desires.'

'Your place is in the home, where you care for your husband and children.'

'Ambitions? You don't need them! Don't forget, your place is beside your husband and that's that'

God, it made you sick. There was nothing wrong with being a homemaker, but it wasn't for you. You wanted to get out there, work, have dreams, and find love naturally... Not through your brother of all people.

You wanted someone else, someone different. Someone who wasn't in the clan and someone who would challenge you to be something more than just a wife and mother. You wanted-

You halted in your tracks as he crossed in front of you, his Kage cape flapping in the wind behind him making him look bigger than he was. Your mouth dropped a little as you watched them walk away, you hadn't seen either of them since Tobirama became the second Hokage and it felt like today was your lucky day.

"Tobirama! Hashirama!" You called out, hand shooting up as you caught up to them. Hashirama smiled brightly at you, arm opening up urging you to hug him "Y/n! How've you been? How's Madara?"

You slyly shot a glance toward the white-haired man, and you didn't miss the slight annoyance that flashed across his face at your presence. You knew he didn't like your clan. You didn't like your clan either.

"I've been good. Madara's been... Madara" You were trying to sound chipper, but the thought of Madara soured your mood again. Hashirama nodded, he knew you and Madara were on thin ice what with him trying to find you a husband and you NOT going along with it. "Husband search not going well?"

Your face morphed into a scowl and Hashirama kicked himself for even asking when he knew that's what was wrong. Tobirama's eyebrows furrowed together at your change in demeanor, he was used to your ruthless attitude, so this was something he wasn't expecting. You grew embarrassed under Hashirama's pitiful look and Tobiramas inquisitive stare, "If I do marry, it won't be an Uchiha" you muttered quietly before brushing past the two men.

The two brothers stood there in silence as they watched you walk swiftly down the street towards some food stands, "I shouldn't have said anything" Hashirama sighed as he rubbed his face in anguish, "Her brother's going to kill me"

"Why does she not want to marry an Uchiha?" Tobirama breathed out, he didn't know what was getting into him, but it felt like he was seeing you for the first time in his entire life. He had known you for years, ever since you were children. He found you to be quite annoying and lumped you together with the other Uchihas that he hated.

Yet something felt off.

"They treat their women like property. It's mandatory that a woman marries before 22 and has a child before 23. Her place is in the home and they can't do anything without permission from their husbands"

"That's ridiculous. Women have needs and desires as well-"

"Yes I know Tobirama but that's how the clan operates-"

"Well, it's another reason as to why I despise that god-forsaken lineage-"

"If you're so upset with it why not marry her?"

Tobirama slammed his mouth shut at Hashiramas statement. Him? Marry YOU? An UCHIHA of all people?! Hashirama stood his ground though, he wasn't stupid and he saw the looks Tobirama has been sending you for YEARS now. Tobirama could lie all he wanted to, he has always cared for you more than he'd like to admit. Tobirama started to take off back to the Hokage's office, not liking the look Hashirama was giving him "I don't think marriage is a good idea, the clan will disown her if she marries outside of their circle-"

"She hates her clan Tobirama and honestly, I think you're the only person who can make her happy"

Tobirama tripped on his footing trying to stop in disbelief. His eyes were wide and his face was full of disgust at what Hashirama was insinuating. Him? Make you happy? Not possible.

"Uchiha or not, you can't deny that you care for her in some way. I know this because you look at her differently than you look at anyone else. You don't even look at the women you try to court that way-"

"I'm done with this conversation" Tobirama huffed out, his face was burning red and the whiteness of his cloak only made it more noticeable that he was embarrassed. Hashirama opened his mouth to make another statement but Tobirama stormed towards the Hokage's office, leaving him standing there in disbelief.

How could someone so smart, be so clueless.

* 2 weeks later *

Your feet kicked at the ground as you waited for your turn to talk to the Hokage. Madara was unable to meet with Tobirama to go over the latest requests of the Uchiha clan, so you were left to the task of talking to the stubborn man who always seemed to make your heart race faster than it should.

"Y/n Uchiha? You're free to go in now"

You nodded at the secretary before standing and heading towards the door, heart pounding as your gripped the wooden door. Sliding it open, you popped your head in before letting out a quiet 'hello'. Tobirama's head shot up at the sound of your voice, he was expecting Madara so this was quite the surprise. "Y/n" he greeted firmly, trying very hard to calm his nerves as he took you in.

You were wearing a simple dress, not too fancy but not too casual. It fit you in all of the right ways, you were attractive sure.

But it was your smile that took his breath away. It reached your eyes, making you appear carefree even though he knew you weren't. "So sorry about my brother's absence. He grew ill over the weekend and asked me to step in for this discussion" you explained sheepishly as you navigated your way to one of the chairs across from the desk.

Tobirama didn't say anything but nodded at your apology, he wasn't upset with this change of plans. He was actually happy. After his discussion with his brother, he tried to push you out of his mind, but every time he saw you he was reminded of the feelings he so desperately tried to hide. "What do you want to speak about?" Tobirama started as you sat down in front of him. You looked at him wide-eyed as if he was asking you something foreign, "Oh! Yes, that" you finally stated as you opened up the envelope with the items to discuss.

Your eyes scanned over each bullet, humming to yourself in agreement with the requests on the page, but you grew still at the last bullet point. Tobirama cocked his head as he took in the way your face fell into disbelief and sadness. "Is something the matter?" His voice was clear but muffled at the same time thanks to the growing rage pounding in your ears. "They want your help with finding my suitor..."

His blood ran cold at the words, if they were asking for his help, that meant-

"They want to look outside of the clan" you breathed out, and in a way, you almost sounded relieved. "Is that something you want?" Tobirama's question was met with silence, but it wasn't a no. "I guess you'll need to marry into a higher-ranking family, do you have a preference-"

"Wait wait wait" you started, waving your hands as your cheeks heated up at the idea of marrying someone who wasn't in your inner circle. You didn't know if you were happy about this, you didn't know if this was a better option. Tobirama studied you from across his desk, you were somehow giving off the energy of relief but also anguish, two feelings that never went together.

"What do you want, Y/n?"

His question took you off guard, it wasn't usual for someone to ask you what you wanted. "I... I want to marry someone who will let me be more than just his wife. Someone that will let me be me." You finally breathed out, your nerves beginning to somehow morph into excitement at the idea of getting what you wanted. "So a higher-ranking individual who will let you be you? Is that all you desire?" Tobirama sounded calm, but inside he was kicking himself. He tried to rack his brain for who you could marry, but all he saw was himself.

"Yes. I suppose"

Your answer was quiet and bashful, had you somehow read his mind and saw the very image of you two together? "Do you have a preference to what clan-"

"Um... Maybe a Senju?" It was bold, very bold of you to blurt it out so quickly. It told him that you had pondered the answer to that question for some time now. "Well, you're in luck. The Senju clan isn't as backward as the Uchihas are. You will have no issue finding a husband who will nurture you and your desires" Tobirama was thankful you couldn't see his shaking hands below the desk. He didn't like the idea of you being with someone in the Senju clan, someone who wasn't him.

This felt wrong. He hated your clan so why were you different? Had he always felt this way and hated you to cover it up? He thought back to when you were kids. You were a couple of years younger than him and you were always trying to talk to him even though it was forbidden.

Forbidden.

'The Uchiha clan is evil. I forbid you from talking to them in any way shape or form'

That's what his father always preached, Hashirama never listened but he did. Now he was regretting it.

"How do you feel about me?"

"I'm sorry what?" You sputtered out, eyes wide at how calm he sounded. Tobirama didn't falter, only stared at you as if urging you to answer even if you didn't want to. "I uh. I guess I like you? I don't know I enjoy your company and-"

"I meant marrying me"

Your blood ran cold but not in a bad way. Your face burned and the heat began to travel down your neck and chest. He was what you wanted, what you've always wanted. Ever since you were kids you decided that he was the one you wanted to be with. But he always hated you so you wrote it off as a stupid crush and tried to move on.

The key word was 'tried'.

"I've wanted that for a while yes-"

"Then it's settled. I will send a notice to your brother. I will be taking you to dinner tonight, do you have a restaurant you like- What's wrong?"

Tobirama noticed your eyes widening at his words and he didn't know if it was a good or bad thing. You had just admitted that you wanted to marry him, so why were you looking at him like he had 5 heads? "I just didn't expect this to happen. I thought you hated me to be honest"

He bit his lip, contemplating what to say to reassure you that you were different. He did hate your clan but he didn't hate you. The hatred he felt was because he was infatuated with you. But how could he put that into words? There was no way to reassure you in the way you deserved. Instead, he stood and circled the desk before leaning against it. "Let me take you out. Let me court you... You'll see that the feeling of hatred was one of forbidden desire"

You nodded slowly at his words, still uneasy and unsure.

"Now where do you want to go for dinner?"

[benedictscanvas]

omggg in my fluffy needing comfort era and i LOVE how you write jamie tartt x reader- could i make a request for jamie x chronically ill reader where he is just really supportive and loving with someone who is long-term sick? ♥️♥️

of course, my love. thank you for the kind words. i tried to make this as vague as possible so people can relate in their own ways. sending you love! <3 | gn!reader, 1.2k words, tw chronic illness & pain, language

You'd just about managed to get your hair how you wanted it to look for the evening, with minimal swearing for once. Jamie was sat on the bed waiting for you, he'd been ready for a good few minutes now, but you were still reluctant to emerge. There was a wave of pain undulating through you that you were trying to ride out in silence without alerting your boyfriend.

"Y' alright, love? No rush, I wanna be fashionably late anyways," he said from the next room, raising his voice so that it reached you through the closed door. You hardly ever closed doors around each other, so you should have known he'd be worried.

The pain wasn't dissipating, so you took a few deep breaths before stepping out into the bedroom with a smile that you hoped was normal.

"Sorry, my hair wasn't co-operating," you say, tilting your head as you take him in. Navy trousers, white shirt, brown jacket. He looked effortlessly gorgeous, even if he had one more button undone than you would have suggested. Some things didn't change, "You look so good, Jamie."

"Me?" he said incredulously, standing up and huffing out a breath of disbelief, "You look...fuck. I'm not good enough with me words for this."

His hands gesture aimlessly down your outfit and you feel a real smile blossoming under his attention. You take his hands in yours and place them on your waist, stopping his flapping from going further.

"I like your words just fine. And your face," you add with a grin that he returns, curling his fingers into the fabric he's found. A new wave of pain crests and you try your hardest to keep it off your face, but don't think about how your body must tense under his touch. His whole face crumples.

"Ah shit," he murmurs, running his hands down your arms to interlace your fingers together as he takes a step closer, "Why didn't y' say anythin' babe?"

"About what?" you ask pathetically, watching him fix you with a look that said 'cut the shit'.

"Cut the shit," he said, clearly deciding the look wasn't enough, "We agreed, babe, you tell me if it's a bad day so I can help. Or at least try to. Thought we were in a good place with it."

Your heart aches. He really does hate it when you keep your pain to yourself, even though you're not sure he yet understands just how much pain you would be sharing if you shared all of it. You'd been dating for six months, but still wanted to be careful not to scare him off.

"I am. I promise, Jamie, I do tell you it's just..." you struggle for a good explanation that doesn't create any pity in him, "Tonight's big, you know? I want to be a proper girlfriend and I want to burst into tears and kiss you stupid when they call your name for that award."

There is a little bit of pity in his eyes when you've finished, so you can't have done a very good job of it. He squeezes your hands tightly in his.

"Can't say it many more ways," he says softly, "But y' gotta believe that you are me priority, gorgeous. Jus' wanna look after you, y' know. I wanna be a proper boyfriend too."

You'd never thought about it that way. Another wave of pain hits and Jamie's instantly stroking your temple when your eyes clench shut. You feel his lips on the opposite side of your head as he whispers sweet little comforts in your ear.

If it wasn't so painful, maybe you'd be more willing to argue the point with him. It would have to be a battle saved for later, because lying down was the only option for the moment. You could feel the sting of tears; it couldn't have been a worse time for a flare up.

"I'll be there for every other award you win," you say forcefully, but you can't bring yourself to promise. Sometimes you worry you can't promise him enough, but then you see the way he looks at you as he leans backwards again and a lot of that worry falls away.

"You're way too sure that I'm winnin' this award, by the way," he says, a little bashful. It was one of your favourite versions of him, "I'm up against quality."

"None of that. The most creative player in the league this season was you. Hands down. I think you know that really."

He nods, but doesn't look sure still. Then he's stepping away from you as he shrugs off his jacket, throwing it onto the back of a chair and flopping down on the bed.

"Come on then, love. We can fit in a quick episode of whatever you want before the ceremony's on TV."

You stare at him.

"What?"

"Well I'm not fuckin' going without you," he laughs, like that was never an option, "Duh. I'd be bored shitless. I know you need to lie down, babe, come on."

He holds out a hand to you. You take it, still dazed by the sudden turn of events, let him pull you onto the bed and into his arms on top of the covers.

"There we are," he breathes, pressing kisses into the top of your head, "Perfect. We'll have a much better evening bein' able to laugh at Roy makin' a fool of himself for the cameras from 'ere, right?"

Coming back to your senses, you pull yourself out of his arms for a moment so you can look at him properly. He's been acting normal up until now, but when he sees the tears in your eyes, his whole face softens.

"Let's not argue right now, love, please," he begs, "Wanna take care of you, so jus' let me. We can talk about it tomorrow."

"Your award..." you choke out, but he shushes you.

"Will be waitin' for me at the club tomorrow. Me speech would have been fucked anyway, so there's nothin' to miss out on."

There's no room for argument in his voice. It's as firm as it is comforting. Relenting as the pain hits once again, you snuggle back into his arms, kissing whatever parts of him you can reach.

"Like my guardian angel," you say, trying not to sound so teary, "So grateful for you, Jamie. Love you so so much."

"Yeah, yeah, love you too," he says, brushing you off as you expected but with fondness in his tone as he pulls you even closer.

"Hey...you just said the award would be waiting. You're finally admitting that you're definitely getting it?"

He chuckles.

"Course I'm getting it. That award's mine, babe," he says, cocky smirk firmly on his face that you can only see in the reflection of the TV. Then he gasps, comically, "Do y' think they'll make Roy do me speech?"

You gasp right back, already feeling better.

"Yes! If you put it on now, we might be able to see him flip people off on the red carpet beforehand."

Jamie grins as he struggles to reach the remote and turns the TV on.

"Fuckin' genius, you are."

---

please see this post if you would like to request your own roy/jamie drabble!! closing soon <3

[dexlexia]

still with you - keigo (hawks) x reader

pairing: keigo takami (hawks) x reader rating: 18+ summary: Keigo was home, he was the safe place you stored all your love in.  When he came home battered and bruised after fighting the villain of the week you took care of him. When he needed his wings brushed, you helped him. You never asked for anything in return because the number two hero needed help once in a while.

It was why when you woke up with a throbbing headache, you didn't call him for anything. tags: pwp, smut, gentle sex, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), migraines, fluff, sick fic w smut

Keigo was home, he was the safe place you stored all your love in.  When he came home battered and bruised after fighting the villain of the week you took care of him. When he needed his wings brushed, you helped him. You never asked for anything in return because the number two hero needed help once in a while.

It was why when you woke up with a throbbing headache, you didn't call him for anything. 

The throbbing started as soon as you got up, the heavy rain against the window and the pressure left an ache in your skull. You tried medicine and a hot shower to soothe the ache, but it only made it feel like it was spreading into further parts of your head. A quick email to your boss and you slinked back into bed with achy knees. From the floor you picked up Keigo's hoodie that you snuggled with every night. It didn't smell like him anymore but the softness of the worn material made you feel content.

You rolled over in bed so the bit of light between the heavy clouds didn't irritate your sore eyes. You wished you had the energy to close the curtains. Your body felt achy, bones felt heavier. You curled up with the hoodie more and exhaled deeply into the fabric. It wasn't long before your body sank into the old mattress and you fell back asleep with the rain being background noise for your slumber. 

You weren't too sure how long you were asleep when you heard knocking on the glass door that led to your balcony. You rolled over and cracked open your eyes to see Keigo on the other side, concern was marked on his face as he held a plastic bag filled with items. 

  “Keigo?” You instantly got up and went over to the door. You opened it and he quickly got in. He was drenched to his core as he now looked relieved to see you, “Are you okay?” You asked. 

He nodded and pulled you in for a kiss, keeping your body away from his wet on as he laid his kiss on you. He spread out his wings and gave a slight flap which caused the water to go everywhere. He blushed, “Sorry about that, I hate when they're soaked.” 

  “Don't worry.” You replied as you reached out to him and cupped his cheek, “Shouldn't you be out patrolling?”

  “Too rainy, dove. Plus you weren't answering my texts so I got worried.” He leaned into your touch and his wings partially spreaded out before coming back closer to his back, “So why are you still at home and not at work?”

You exhaled and went back to sit on the edge of the bed, “Really bad migraine. It feels like my head is caving in. I decided to stay home.” You laid back in bed, “This is taking so much out of me.”

Keigo came over and rubbed the back of his hand against your forehead, “Well, as the number two hero I must help every civilian I can! Even the most beautiful.” 

You smiled gently, “Oh shush.” You closed your eyes to relieve the pain, “But thank you.” 

Keigo leaned down and kissed you on the forehead, “Of course, dove. Anything for my girl.“ He smiled at you, ”Well I got you some greasy food and snacks from the Seven-Eleven. I cleared the shelves of all the medicine they had and I have a can of ginger ale in my pocket that I'll put in the fridge.“

You chuckled, ”Ginger Ale, the solver of everything. Thank you, Keigo. I'm glad it's not anything worse. Just stupid rain.”

He gave you another kiss before he pulled away, “Well I guess I'm on dinner duty tonight. But don't worry, dove, I'll make sure everything goes right as rain.” Then beamed at you before he went to the kitchen. 

You could almost cry from how sweet Keigo, not that he was never this sweet to you. But the above and beyond nature of his actions plus the pain in your body made you a little emotional. You exhaled deeply and laid spread out on the bed, under the blanket as you heard him move about the rest of the apartment. 

You relaxed deeper into your bed as you let the comfort of it lull you back to sleep, but it wasn't long before you heard footsteps coming towards the bedroom. You cracked open an eye and looked over to see Keigo. He was approaching you with two plates in hand. 

  “Hey, sleepy head.' He said softly, ”I assumed you hadn't eaten yet so I threw all the food onto a plate for you.“ He sat on the edge of the bed as you sat up and placed both plates in your lap, ”If you ask nicely I'll even hand feed you, dove.“ Then winked at you. 

You chuckled, ”Such a sweet talker.“ You opened your mouth partially, then burst into a loud laughter. For a moment all the pain was gone as you felt flustered by his words, ”But if the great number two hero is offering then I accept it.“ 

You swore Keigo had little hearts in his eyes as he picked up the take-out chopsticks that came with the food and started to feed you pieces of chicken. You made a small noise with each piece. He started with the fried chicken followed by hand feeding you the two onigiris he got you, then the egg sandwiches then followed it off with feeding you every last chip from a small bag. The carbs made you feel a lot better, it was like the itch had been scratched. 

You smiled as he wiped your mouth before he placed a kiss on your head, ”That's my girl. I'm happy you got some food for you.“ Then leaned further down to kiss you on the lips, getting the taste of grease on his lips. 

He then moved the plates away and crawled into bed with you. He wrapped his arms around you and his wings provided a block from the light shining between the clouds. Rain continued to hit the windows as he visibly relaxed next to you, his strong arms wrapped around you. 

It was so tender, Keigo was just the best. Being with him felt like a dream so it wasn't hard that you fell back asleep. But thanks to the light being blocked out by Keigo's wings and the medicine finally kicking in, when you woke up closer to the evening, the pain had dissipated. 

You yawned loudly and rolled back onto your back. The first thing you became aware of was that Keigo was staring at you. His wings flapped a little at the sight of you. From the haziness of his eyes, you could tell he had just woken up from a nap as well. 

  ”Hey, dove.“

  ”Hi, Keigo.“

He leaned in for a gentle kiss and you felt your heart flutter as his lips pressed against yours. You got closer to him and the kiss deepened for a moment. When he pulled away he looked at you with a glint in his eye, ”Someone is happy to see me.“ 

Your smile was large as you looked at him, ”I'm always happy to see you.“ You kissed him again. 

He smiled back at you once he broke the kiss and said, ”I'm guessing your migraine is gone too.“ He pulled you in as close as he could get you and pressed his forehead up against yours. 

  ”I feel a lot better now, thank you. You're my hero.“ 

He flexed his arm and grinned at you, ”Well I'm not the number two pro hero for nothing.“ Then developed into laughter as you pulled him for a kiss that soon became hot and heavy. 

He climbed on top of you and fluttered his wings as he deepened the kiss. His hands on your face as he passionately made out with you. It was very hot, your felt heat rush to your cheeks. You felt like a new woman with the migraine gone!

He started to kiss down your body over your clothes, his heart raced in his chest as he got to your sweatpants. He licked his lips in lust and then looked up at you. He smiled broadly, ”May I?“

You combed your fingers through his blond hair and relaxed against the best with your chin pointed towards the ceiling, “I'll never say no to that tongue of yours.” You smiled to yourself as you felt Keigo start to pull down the sweatpants down your ass, which exposed your sweet pussy to him.

He chuckled and kissed your inner thigh as he looked up at you, “Well of course.” He beamed, “I could never get tired of you either.” Before his wings flapped once more before he started to go down on you. Your hands gripped onto his head tighter as he began to pleasure you. 

  “That's it, Keigo.” You moaned, “That feels so good.” 

You moaned once more as you felt your cheeks grow warmer as he licked at your sweet sex. Your toes curled as you felt the rush of pleasure thanks to Keigo's tongue. He smiled to himself before he kissed your pussy lips and went back to lapping at your clit. The sensation made you moan louder as you felt the sense of pleasure race up your spine. The euphoric feeling of his tongue against you. 

He loved making you feel good, it was a purpose of his to make you feel good. To make that  back arch, those moans loud, everything. He wanted to make you feel so euphoric and deep in pleasure. 

You held on tightly as his tongue swirled around your sex, you tried to roll your hips to get more pleasure out of him but he stopped you with his hands and started to really put his back into it. He kept your legs open with his hands and he worked your pussy until you were seeing stars.

Your noises made his heart race as he moved his tongue. The air in the room got heavier as moans filled it. Keiog was in deep, even his nose was buried in your pussy as you held onto him. Pleasure began to feel overwhelming as you felt your heart race. Long gone was the migraine and all you could focus on was the immense pleasure that Keigo was giving you. 

Keigo moaned a little as he rubbed himself up against the mattress to relieve part of his hard-on. He too was feeling the spark between you two. He breathed deeply onto your pussy as he played with your clit with his thumb in an effort to bring you to climax.

  “That's it, that's it, dove.” He panted as he gazed lovingly at your soaked pussy. His fingers continued to work your pussy along with his tongue. It wasn't long before your noises became louder as you neared climax. 

  “Please, Keigo.” You moaned, “Oh please.” Your breathing was practically panting as the swell of pleasure bloomed in your stomach. Your legs tensed up as you felt the climax hit its peak and you gripped onto your boyfriend's head as tightly as possible and with one last lap of your sex from him, you came on his mouth. Your eyes rolled back from the sheer force of the pleasure. Your moan almost got stuck in your throat as you came. 

As you started to come down, Keigo pulled his mouth away from you and wiped it with the back of his hand. He smiled down at you with flushed cheeks. His cock hard in his pants. His smile turned into a groan as he watched you start to come back to your senses. He was proud of himself for what he did to you, he made you feel so good. 

He reached to you and cupped your face before he went in for a soft kiss on the lips, “Now.” He said as he pulled away, “What can we do about this?” 

[luvvyouforever]

rhys and john keats - modern au!rhysand x college student!reader ❥

↳ reader can barely handle the weight of college but rhysand is there to pick her up and help the pain.

↳ so self indulgent it hurts. set in a modern age where reader is a college student but rhysand is still high lord? idk honestly. mentions of stress, self doubt, comfort, crying. my day-to-day life essentially.

↳ requests are open! check characters in pinned post and link for requests is in my bio :)

the living room of your shared apartment with rhysand is a sight to behold. papers, printed copies of poems, books, pens, highlighters, and three energy drinks enclose you in a circular shape. it's horrifying and the sight is not eased by your messy hair, dark circles, and tear-stained cheeks. the semester was getting to you, clearly.

three papers were due for one class in the next two weeks. six quizzes were on the agenda and you had easily ten multiple page texts to read before class at 9am the following monday.

it had never been this stressful before but your time in college was coming to an end and that only ramped up the amount of work you had to complete. your final few semesters were certain to end you and you'd never get to walk across that stage to receive a blank page of paper which would eventually be replaced with your actual diploma. that's how it felt, at least.

minutes full of agony passed until you heard the familiar flapping of strong wings on the balcony. you didn't move from your sitting position as rhysand sauntered into the room, smile so wide it reached his violet eyes.

"my dear y/n," he whispered. his voice was so sweet that another tear forced its way out of your eye and down your cheek again. he must have sensed it, the stress pouring down your bond, or maybe he could somehow smell the salt of the tear as it dripped onto the page in your lap. he knelt down to meet your face and he pouted. "what's going on, darling?"

for the first time that night, you tore your gaze away from your work and met his eyes. "there's too much," you mumbled with a watery voice. "i can't do this."

he made a click with his tongue while examining the piles of work on the floor. his fingers lifted the assignment prompts and poems and syllabus requirements. more tears fell and you silently cursed each and every one of them.

"why can't you do it? what's challenging you?" he asked gently. it was not meant to condescend but he was trying to figure out how to help you in the best way possible.

"i feel like the analyses i'm coming up with are dumb, i don't understand the lines, the rhyme scheme is stupid, and i don't know what my thesis is for a moronic paper on keats should be. it's stupid and dumb and i'm stupid and dumb."

rhysand moved his hands to your cheeks before you could even react and pulled your face to meet his strong eye contact. his purple eyes bore into yours and he poured liters of reassurance down the bond. that mental claw in his head brushed against your mind in a calming manner. "do not say words like that, my love. you are so intelligent. and you're fully capable of managing everything on your plate."

you sniffed, feeling pathetic in his strong gaze. "i don't feel that way, though. i don't know how to deal with this stress, rhys. it's impossible. it's like this huge tower looming before me and i'm being asked to climb every single step in the best possible way or else i'll be pushed off of the top."

rhysand breathed out a sigh and his hand found your own. "i'm gonna help you climb that tower, okay?" he grabbed a brightly annotated copy of a keats poem and read over it.

"have you even read keats? or dickinson? do you know what a thesis statement is?" you asked. there was a bite to your words but it didn't faze rhysand in the slightest.

"of course i do, love. what do you think i do in my spare time when i'm not being an expert ruler? there's a small section i had put in the library, down on one of the lower floors, and it's full of human books. there's anthologies of authors, textbooks on writing, math theory, whatever you want, it's there. and i've perused it all. this poem-" he held up the printed keats "-is one of my favorites.

"so, the way i interpret this poem is that in order to withstand and stay strong in the face of suffering, we should indulge in poetry, beauty, and art. don't you think so?" he began to recite some lines which resembled this theme and suddenly, it all made sense.

he did that two more times with the other texts you had to write about. everything connected when he taught it and read it. you now had three outlines completed with well-developed thesis statements, annotated stories and poems for discussion, and three out of six quizzes were completed.

"thank you," you said, pouring as much love through your bond as you could. "really, thank you. this means so much to me."

"of course, my dear. shall i put on a sweater vest and glasses and replace your professor from here on out?"

you giggled and finally stood from the floor. the two of you walked into the kitchen to begin making a nutritious, filling dinner with your favorite velaris-sourced wine. "i would absolutely take you up on that offer if it didn't mean everyone in the class would be vying for your attention."

rhysand's arms wrapped around your midsection while you prepared food for dinner. his head leaned forward so that his mouth was by your ear. "i only have eyes for the smartest person in class."

can you tell i'm an english major? this is all very self-insert, i read the keats poem i talked about like two weeks ago :p

[redandbrown]

Cold

Hermione was shaking violently as Ron watched her cast yet another warming charm over her body. He knew she was wearing about three sweaters and two pairs of pants. It was cold out here, but not that cold.

She sneezed loudly and immediately stomped her foot, almost like she was highly inconvenienced by getting sick.

Ron smirked to himself. That’s exactly what she was thinking. Typical Hermione.

She was still furious with him about leaving, but had finally started speaking to him again two days ago. Even if only in short, one word sentences. He thought he would try to thaw her cold shoulder towards him a little more.

“That doesn’t seem to be working,” he quipped as he walked closer to her.

She looked up at him noticing him for the first time in a while.

“Wh-what do you kn-know about it?” She sneered as her teeth chattered.

“I know a warming spell won’t work on a cold,” Ron told her calmly as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

He saw her blink rapidly, and knew this was new information to her. Sometimes growing up in the wizarding world had its advantages.

“You have a fever,” he told her.

“I know that!” She snapped at him.

“Then why would you want to make your body warmer?” He reasoned with her.

Hermione stared at him, her nose red and irritated from sneezing. He could see the wheels turning behind those warm brown eyes as she rocked back and forth, trying in vain to dispel the chills racking her body.

“I- You’re right,” she reluctantly admitted. “Why didn’t I th-think of that? I’m so stupid. I j-just f-feel so c-cold. That’s all I can think about.”

“You’re not stupid, Hermione,” he told her as he pushed off the counter and stood in front of her. “You’re just sick. Take that jumper off.”

Her eyes became large at his closeness and she took a step back.

“Wh-what?” She looked like she couldn’t believe what he had just said. He noticed the blush creeping up her cheeks from her neck.

He had to play this calm if this was going to work. He rolled his eyes at her.

“I know you have two more under that one. C’mon get rid of it.”

She looked alarmed. “Well what am I supposed to do? I can’t brew anything for a cold! I don’t have the ingredients and I’m freezing. My teeth feel like they’re going to shake out of my head!”

“I’m trying to help you, ‘Mione. Would you just trust me?” He soothed.

“No!” She stomped her foot stubbornly. “And don’t call me that! I’ll figure it out on my own! I don’t need you!” She yelled over her shoulder as she ran to her beaded bag looking desperately for something to help.

Ron sighed and jumped back onto his bunk.

“Have it your way then. If you change your mind, I’m right here.”

Hermione gave a loud huff in response to his offer and continued calling various objects out of her bag for examination.

Ron heard a soft sobbing and sat bolt upright in his bed. He must have dozed off. His eyes landed on Hermione. She was sitting on the floor now wearing one of his jumpers as well, weeping quietly into her hands. Random objects were sprawled out around her in a large mess.

He looked towards the tent flap. It would be time for Harry to come in soon. Ron had had enough of this.

He jumped off his bunk and swung his wand in the air as he walked towards her. The objects started flying back into her beaded bag, and she looked up just in time to see him scoop her off the ground.

“Ron! What are you-

“Enough of this, Hermione!” He sat her on his bunk and now they were almost eye-level. “I know you’re angry with me, but I won’t have you hurt yourself over your ego. Sometimes you need help, Hermione, whether you like it or not!”

“You don’t tell me what- She started, but Ron cut her off by raising his wand and pointing it at her chest.

She looked down to see not one, but two, three, all four of her jumpers disappear, leaving her in only her camisole.

Her arms flew across her chest, even though nothing was technically exposed.

“How dare you-

“Shutup,” Ron cut her off. He pushed her back on the bed by her shoulders, and she was so weak she didn’t even put up a fight.

“What are you-

“Would you shut up for minute?”

Ron grabbed his blanket and covered her with it, tucking it in tightly and casting a warming charm on it.

“When you have a fever you have to cast the warning charm on a blanket, not yourself,” he explained to her as her features went from realization to relaxed. Hermione took a deep sigh of relief, keeping her eyes trained on Ron.

“But you still need to break that fever. We can’t do that right now, so we’ll just have lower your body temp,” he continued, conjuring a cold cloth and placing it on her forehead. He conjured two more and instructed her to place them on her neck and stomach. This time she didn’t question him. She did as he told her.

He watched as her body finally stopped shaking. Those big brown eyes were watching him with gratitude and- was that admiration? His stomach did a flip.

“I know it doesn’t make sense to be covered in a warming blanket and cold cloths at the same time, but trust me it works. This is how my mum treats a fever while her fever potion is brewing.”

To his surprise, Hermione smiled at him. “Remind me to thank your mum. And-and you. Thank you, Ron.”

She squeezed his hand.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Harry sounded concerned walking into the tent.

“I have a cold.”

“And a fever,” Ron added.

“And a fever,” she confirmed.

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothi-

“She needs to rest and then eat. Make sure she gets some food in her, yeah? I’m taking next shift.”

“No!” Hermione tried to yell. Ron had already headed towards the door, but turned around at her shout.

“It’s my turn. It’s not fair to you-

Ron walked back, and to her shock leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

“I’m taking next shift,” he repeated more firmly. “Rest. Eat. I’m right outside if you need me.”

Hermione was staring at him slack-jawed. All she could do was nod.

Ron didn’t dare look at Harry as he walked out the tent flap.

[twst-drabbles]

Baul 1

Summary: You set your sleeping bag right next to Baul. Baul has some complaints.

(Took me long enough huh? I had several scenarios in my head but I couldn't get them out for some reason except this one. Also for some reason, Baul speaks to me as a person that has a thing for backs? Don't know why. )

"What are you doing?"

You didn't bother with the delicate decorum that comes with the night and simply let your sleeping bag thud against the ground. You even kicked it a bit closer to Baul's line of sight, as though he was some near sighted fae and not a servant of war.

Why must humans always be so arrogant and brutish in their mannerisms?

At his question, you just raised an eyebrow as though what he asked was stupid one. Baul would've left a crack in his mask if it wasn't so masterfully made.

"Getting ready for bed," you answered simply, kneeling down to unzip your sleeping bag. "A lazy and spoiled human like me need quite a bit of sleep, you know."

Baul clicked his tongue. This wasn't what he's asking about.

"And why near me? What makes you think I want you so close?"

Why general Lilia insists on taking this human to the crater they appeared in, he doesn't know. Perhaps you did something that placed you in his good graces, but you have done nothing to Baul to for him to give you the same treatment. It is only by General Lilia's authority that he's willing to follow this request to the letter. Getting friendly was simply not something he'll do.

Honestly, Baul doesn't see why all the little pixies constantly fawn over you as though you're the spring's first sapling. Gifts of sugar and other delicate treats like that can only get one so far, and what they like is vastly different to what General Lilia likes, and yet Baul can see he was somewhat more favorable of you.

To Baul, it simply didn't make sense. You were grating in the way you held yourself, as if you know nothing in the world can truly hurt you. In Baul's eyes, you reeked of ignorance.

You gave a sigh, as though the accusations were a huge bother to answer. "You complained when I set my tent far away, you clicked your tongue when I closed the flap, and you frowned at me when I let the faeries make a custom tent. Clearly you want me to sleep right next you, so I might as well get it over with."

The hairs on the back of Baul's neck rose and he felt his scales shudder just the slightest bit in indignation.

"How dare-!"

"I'm going to sleep," you fell torso first onto your plush sleeping bag, handmade by the pixies after a few days of attempts, "Continue keeping watch or whatever. I'm tired. Good night."

You waved him off and not caring in the slightest other than your need for sleep. A childish part of him want stand up and yell at you to get back to your tent, but the woods always had unexpected ears and Baul had no choice but to bite his tongue and seethe silently.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed himself back against the tree. Humans are stubborn, that much Baul knew. He also knew them to be frightful things, easily influenced by cautionary tales well into their adulthood. You may pretend to be brave, but all humans experience at least some level of discomfort at what they don't know and they show it in ways subtle to humans, but obvious to his eyes.

However, you continued to lay on your stomach, arms under a pillow with your face away from him. Your neck was exposed, your back flexing, rising, and falling as your breathing slowed and slowed. You stretched, your night shirt riding up just the slightest bit.

No person who was afraid would dare show their backs to potential danger. Baul has done nothing to show his dedication in your safety, let alone put himself in the "safe" part of your mind. Did you really see him as that weak, or was this some sort of naive trust?

Heat rose up his neck when Baul caught himself transfixed on your back. He lightly cleared his throat and looked away. He needs to keep watch after all.

[mythrae]

Invisible String

Part Two: Clues I Didn't See

Summary: As if by fate, Divya and Dammon are reunited. They both wish it was under better circumstances.

Word Count: 3.8K-ish

Warnings: 18+ (minors do not interact), blood/injuries, otherwise some nice fluff

Author's Notes:

sorry this took me so long to write I got ADHD

click here to read pt 1!

click here to read on ao3!

Where's Dammon?

That was the first and only thing on Divya’s mind as she woke up in her tent, all alone.

The last thing she remembered from the night before was resting her head against his strong, broad chest, the beating of his heart lulling her to sleep. She enjoyed her night with him, truly, but now she was worried that inviting him back to her tent was a foolish thing do.

Hells, she thought, did I say anything stupid last night? She tried to think back and recollect her conversations with Dammon, but nothing stood out in particular. Everything between them seemed… normal.

Did… did I fall asleep while he was talking to me?

“Oh Gods, strike me down, please…” she muttered embarrassingly, opening the flap to her tent to see that the sun was already risen, shining bright in the sky.

As she drowsily stumbled out to the campground, she noticed that she was the last member of the party to wake up. In fact, everyone else already had their belongings packed, camp clothes changed, and ready for whatever adventure the new day would bring them. 

She stretched her out body, doing anything she could to wake herself up, when she heard the familiar voice of her fiery friend calling out to her.

“Hey, Div! Come here!” Karlach motioned her over.

Still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Divya trudged over to her companion’s tent, praying to whatever God would listen that this wasn't about her midnight visitor.

“Say, I couldn’t help but spy Dammon leaving your tent earlier this morning."

Oh, Nine Hells...

"What fun did you two get into last night?” Karlach leaned in, wearing a shit-eating grin, “Was he… you know? A good shag?”

“Karlach!” Divya almost shouted, causing Scratch's ears to perk up, “You can’t just ask me about my business like that!”

“Oh, come on soldier, it’s just a bit of morning banter, that’s all!”

“You’re one to talk, Karlach.” Astarion chimed in from his own tent, not once glancing up from the book in his hands. “Let’s not forget what you said about what you’d do to Wyll if your internal engine was fixed…”

“Oi, okay, we get it!” The fiery tiefling fussed at the pale elf, lifting her hands up in surrender, “Fine. What happened last night stays between the two of you.”

“Anyways,” she continued, hands lowering down to her hips, “if you’re wondering why Dammon left so early, I believe Zevlor wanted all the tieflings to leave as soon as dawn broke so they could use as much daylight as possible to travel. At least, that’s what I heard him telling one of the others last night.”

Oh, so I didn’t completely embarrass myself? Well, thank the Gods!

“Hopefully they have a safe journey,” Divya replied. “Hells knows they’ve been through enough already.”

“Indeed, they have,” she heard a deep, burly voice reply from behind. When she turned around, she saw that Halsin was approaching her. He must had stayed the night in camp for him to be here so early in the day. He stood in front of the two tiefling women, casting his shadow on their forms.

“I trust you enjoyed your evening?" He continued, "After all your efforts, it was well deserved.

“Oh, I think she definitely enjoyed it, all right.”

Divya wished Karlach wasn’t literally on fire so she could deliver a swift kick to her shin.

Unphased by the woman's banter, Halsin continued.

“It may be some time before you are afforded another such night - there is much to be done, and I promised I would help you however I could.”

As Halsin continued to speak to the party about traveling to Moonrise Towers, she couldn't help but worry about Dammon and the other tieflings. Sure, they were a tough bunch, but to make it through the Shadow Cursed lands that Halsin was speaking about... it seemed a daunting task, even for her.

Will the others make it? What about the children? Will Dammon be okay?

She tried to shake these thoughts out of her mind, but it was no use. Divya found herself unable to focus on anything else.

***

“You there! Step forward and keep your hands off your weapons!”

There was never really much commotion at the Last Light Inn, so when Dammon heard one of the Harpers shouting, his interest was piqued.

He and the other tiefling refugees hadn’t intended to stay there long, in fact, they had planned to be in Baldur’s Gate by now. However, their caravan was ambushed by members of the Absolute’s cult. Some of them were captured and taken to Moonrise, some of them were killed, and only some of them were lucky enough to get away with their lives. Thankfully, they found the Harpers and the inn when all hope seemed to be lost.

“Easy, she’s with me.” Another Harper responded.

Must’ve ran into them while out in the Shadowcurse, he thought. He didn’t blame these trespassers for wanting to tag along with the Harpers, especially after all the tieflings went through.

Dammon’s makeshift forge in the barn of Last Light was a bit ways away from the entrance to their current safe haven, so he couldn’t make out who these refugees — or intruders — might be. He watched as Jaheira strolled over to the party, her gaze focused on the woman who stood in front of the group.

A warm glow emitted from the druid's hands, followed by a burst of green energy surrounding her and the party's leader. Before she could even process it, the intruder's legs were entangled in a growth of vines, holding her in place.

The woman scoffed, clearly annoyed with Jaheira's cold welcome. “Just this once, I wish people would simply say hello.”

Oh hells, he know that voice anywhere.

Divya?

“Hello,” Jaheira replied to the tiefling monk, a sarcastic smile wiped across her face.

“Look," Divya begged, "Can you at least explain to me why you’re doing this?”

Dammon watched closely as Jaheira pulled a curious-looking jar out of her pocket. Inside, a disgusting pale creature squirmed and writhed in it's tiny enclosure.

An illithid tadpole.

He's heard the Harpers speak about them, briefly. That the leaders of the Absolute cultists were infecting people with the tadpoles to eventually turn them into mind flayers. The cult members called the contaminated "True Souls," for they can hear the voice of their God in their heads. Sounded like something from an awful fairy tale, but seeing as that Elturel could fall into Avernus, almost nothing surprised him anymore.

Jaheira extended her arm out to Divya, holding the parasite's jar close to her head. In an instant, there was a connection between her and the tadpole. He could hear the creature banging aggressively against the glass walls, as her brow knit in pain as she held her head in her hands.

So… she was infected? Dammon thought.

“Please!" She cried out in agony, "I am not… a True Soul…” 

He watched as Divya struggled to speak, the tadpole in the jar clearly being the source of her struggle. Jaheira did not seem to feel any sympathy for her, just shaking her head as she held up a signal in her other hand. In a heartbeat, the Harpers standing near her had their crossbow drawn, aimed and ready to strike…

He wanted to stop them in that moment, but he was scared. He was only a refugee himself, after all. They could easily turn the crossbow on him.

But he knew Divya. He knew her as the woman who helped save the Emerald Grove, the one who took down the leaders of the Goblin Camp. She wasn't some monster who was here to sabotage them. If anything, he knew she was here to save them.

As soon as he had gathered up the courage to say something, he saw that a little red tiefling beat him to it.

“STOP!”

He watched as Mol ran to Divya's side, arms outstretched as if to save her from the Harper's wrath.

She pleaded with Jaheira to spare the tiefling monk, sharing how she not only saved the Emerald Grove, took down the goblins, but also saved two of her friends. She went in great detail to share how Arabella was rescued from Kagha and her deadly viper, and how Mirkon had been saved by a flock of harpies.

Hells, Dammon didn't even know she had saved the children. No wonder Mol was sticking out her neck to keep Divya alive.

“I pretty much trust her with my life.” Mol finished, giving Divya a genuine, warm smile.

Jaheira looked to Divya, then back to Mol, then back to Divya once more. Dammon could see the two sides going at war in the druid's mind. He knew her priority was to save as many people as she could from the cult of the Absolute, but it would be extremely risky to allow a tadpole-infected person to stay with the others.

Finally, with an exasperated sigh, the magic in her hands faded away, causing the vines to retreat from Divya's ankles. She had earned the druid's trust... for now.

“Congratulations, you’ve earned yourself the benefit of the doubt.”

As the Harpers were given orders from Jaheira to stand down, he watched Divya's shoulders relax. She had found refuge at the Last Light Inn. And she knew her party was thankful they didn't have to camp in the Shadow Cursed lands at night.

Dammon chuckled to himself, finally walking their way. “And here I thought Jaheira was gonna serve you up for dinner tonight.”

Divya’s head swiveled so fast in his direction, he was worried she had pulled a muscle.

“Dammon!” She shouted, unable to hide her excitement as she ran into his open, strong arms.

He held her tightly in his embrace as she wrapped her arms around his neck, rocking her from side to side. The tip of her tail found his as they wrapped tightly around each other, bringing them even closer together. As his rested his chin on top of her head, he caught a whiff of her scent — one he had longed to smell again after the night they shared together — and as it filled his nostrils, and he felt his knees nearly go weak. 

Oh, how he’d missed her.

“What are you doing here?” Divya asked, her feet barely touching the ground as he held her. “I thought you would all make it to Baldur’s Gate by now!”

"Trust me, I did too..." He trailed off, lowering her back to the ground, his arms wrapped loosely around her. "Our caravan was attacked. Us tieflings here are the only ones that survived. Some were captured, and...well..."

"Oh Gods, Dammon," she whispered, "I'm so sorry."

"I feel the worst for Rolan, honestly." Dammon continued, "Cal and Lia were taken as hostages. I suppose they're at Moonrise Towers. Gods know what they're going through over there."

"Hells... we'll find them, I promise." She assured him, reaching her thumb to brush gently against his cheekbone. "No matter what it takes."

She met his steely blue gaze, sending a warm shiver down her spine. Gods, it felt so good to be back in his arms...

"Um, not to interrupt such a tender moment between you two, but..."

"Ah, Karlach!" Dammon smiled to greet her, feeling Divya's arms slide off of his shoulders. "How's the good ol' engine of yours?"

"It still runs hot, but I have some infernal iron that you can tamper with to help me out. If you're willing, of course."

"More than willing," Dammon replied, motioning to his forge in the barn, "Seek me out after you've rested for a bit, and we can talk a bit more about it."

"Oh, I know you'll be making up for lost time with this one right here," She nodded to Divya, "This one has been worried about you like crazy."

"KARLACH!"

The fiery tiefling stifled a laugh as she watched her companion's face turn bright red. "What? You don't want him to know how anxious she was thinking she'd never see you again — or Gods forbid, you didn't ever want to see her. And to think, it's only been a little more than a ten-day since we've seen you at the tiefling party."

"And why would I ever think that?" Dammon half smiled, looking at Divya burying her face in his shoulder. His hand rested on her lower back, gently rubbing it with his knuckles.

"Ah, I think that's enough teasing the poor girl for one day, I suppose." Karlach finally yielded. "Besides, I think Jaheira wants to speak to us. Something about receiving a blessing from the Shadow Curse."

"I'll be there in a moment." Divya replied, her voice muffled from hiding in Dammon's clothed body. As soon as she was sure Karlach had walked away, she revealed herself, her cheeks still flushed.

"It'll be all right, Divya." Dammon comforted her, giving her a light squeeze with his arm. "Go, join the others. I'll seek you out soon."

***

The tieflings refugees really never seemed to catch a break.

After Divya and her party arrived, so did another unexpected guest — Flaming Fist Marcus, along with an army of winged horrors. They fought hard to capture Isobel and take her to Moonrise Towers, but the refugees at Last Light fought harder, killing all the intruders, without any casualties on their end. Most of those that fought were injured, but it was nothing that a cleric or two couldn’t fix.

Divya was injured pretty badly, but still wore a grin on her face as she helped lead the others to the makeshift infirmary on the inn's first floor. Her pained smile was a dead giveaway to those who knew her that she hurt more than she was letting on, but her party didn't dare comment on it. She was stubborn when it came to matters like this, and they all knew better than to bother her when she was assisting others.

“Divya, please. Rest a moment.” Dammon called to her, watching her carefully from the inn's entrance, “You’re going to make your injuries worse.”

He could see that she had been injured, the fabric of her uniform slashed apart and soaked in blood around her stomach and chest. Whether or not it was her own blood, he didn't know. But what he did know was that she needed medical attention, fast.

“What are you talking about?" She nearly snapped at the infernal mechanic, "I’m fine!”

"Divya-"

Before he could finish his sentence, one of the injured refugees accidentally crashed into her.

She stumbled as she wailed out in pain, followed by collapsing, hard, on the wooden floor of the inn. She tried to put herself back on her feet, but her arms gave out, falling back to the ground again.

Dammon was at her side in a heartbeat, positioning himself underneath her so he could pick her up in one smooth motion, cradling her weak body in his arms.

“Come here, dear.” Dammon whispered, his lips brushing against her forehead. "Let me take care of you."

He hastily carried her to the barn where he kept his forge, walking up the stairs that led to the attic. He held her tightly as he walked up the stairs, fearful that he would slip out of his grasp. Her only signs of life were her heavy breathing and the tight grip she had on his tunic.

The door to the attic was slightly ajar, so he was able to enter with little effort. His space was humble, a few of his belongings scattered about the loft, along with a small table and set of chairs. It wasn't a space he spent much time in, so he felt no need to decorate. He set her down gently on his own bed, propping up a pillow under her head to keep her comfortable.

“How are you feeling?" He asked, his eyes filled with worry as hers stayed shut, "Are you okay?"

She exhaled heavily, slowly opening her eyes. "Dammon... please, don't worry about me."

"I don't think I have a choice." He chuckled, pushing back a few stray hairs from her forehead, damp with sweat. "You took quite a tumble back there. If I were you, I would have gone to a cleric right away."

"I promise I'm fine, just let me — argh!"

She tried to sit up, but her efforts were worthless. She fell back into the mattress with a flustered sigh. She hated feeling weak, fragile, vulnerable, especially when others needed help. She would rather die making sure that others would live than be selfish and care for herself first, that's what she learned in the monastery back in Elturel.

But those days were long gone, cast to the side, just as they did to her.

“Listen, just lie back and do as you’re told, dearest.” He walked towards a table on the other side of the attic, with a box bearing a medical symbol on the front.

“You wanna make me?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He joked, making her heart leap in her chest as she propped herself up on her elbows. “Now, where exactly are you hurt?”

“…across my stomach. One of those wretched winged horrors caught me off guard.”

“I see. Can you undress for me?”

Divya knew why he asked her to take her clothes off, but she couldn't help but blush at the... other implications his question could be interpreted to mean.

However, whenever she tried to move her arms to slide her top off, the pain in her core was too much for her to bear. She was absolutely helpless.

"Uh, Dammon, I think I may need your help..." She called to him, rather sheepishly.

"Of course," He grabbed his medic box, carrying it over to the barrel by his bedside to assist his patient.

He sat next to her on the mattress, coaxing his steady hands underneath her body. Hie guided her to sit up straight, the whimpers of discomfort escaping her lips pulling at his heartstrings. He helped guide her arms up above her head so he could gently slide her bloodied top off, trying his best not to disturb her wound, and placed the clothing in a heap on the floor.

But when Dammon turned his attention to her injury, he felt his heart drop to his stomach.

The winged horror had nearly disemboweled her, the gashes so deep he was worried that they may have scratched more than her vital organs. Her uniform was tight enough that it helped stop some of the bleeding, but it definitely was not sanitary. She could potentially contract an infection at any moment, and if that were the case, she’d be in grave danger.

On top of that, her body had new scars, ones he hadn’t seen during the night they shared together. He noticed the new scar on the side of her face, the ones spanning across her neck and chest, even a few on her thighs. They had all ranged in different stages of healing, He could tell that whatever the refugees had gone through while traveling through the Shadow Cursed lands, her battle had been far worse.

“Nine Hells below, what happened to you?” 

“A lot.” She sighed, “Lae’zel led us through a githyanki crèche. They… weren’t too kind to us. I'm surprised they didn't hack off my tail."

He shivered at the thought, tucking his own tail close to his body in response. “Looks like it.” He reached into a bucket and pulled out a washcloth, wet with a substance unfamiliar to her. As she inhaled, the scent filled her nostrils, reminding her of a strong alcohol.

“This’ll sting. Breathe in for me…”

Divya hissed through her teeth as he pressed the cloth directly on her wound. It didn’t just sting, no, it felt as if her body was literally on fire. Her breath quickened as the pain swept through her entire body, gripping at the sheets of his bed with her fingers.

“Hells, Dammon, what are you doing to me?” She felt tears welling up in the corners of her eyes as her body contracted from the pain.

“It’s to help clean the wound.” He explained, calmly. “The cut’s a bit deeper than I thought, and the last thing we need is your wound getting infected.”

"Am... am I going to need stitches?"

"Definitely," he replied, disposing of the dirty cloth in a bucket, "but don't you worry, I have everything we need right here."

His fingers worked quickly with the needle and thread, stitching her back together with ease. Divya was in awe at how the man who's rough, calloused hands worked with metal and heat day in and day out, could be so gentle with her injured, delicate body now.

She gazed upon his face, concentrated on his sewing. "How do you know so much about medicine?"

A small chuckle escaped his lips, his eyes still focused on her wounds, "Working in the forge, you can get hurt easily. Best to handle it yourself when there's not a cleric around."

He tenderly pulled the final stitch, tying the thread in a knot and pulling the rest with his teeth.

"Alright, we're almost done." He said, reaching into his medic box one last time. "I know you won't stay out of trouble, so I need to swaddle you up a bit so the stitches won't open."

He wrapped the bandages around her waist, bringing them down to her hips. She winced as he applied pressure to her newly stitched wounds, but she knew that she would rather have them quickly healed than for them to open up again.

"Thank you, Dammon," she whispered, finally feeling relaxed. Their first day at Last Light Inn may have been troublesome, but with Dammon here, she felt safe. "And... I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. I hate... I hate being weak."

"It happens to the best of us," he replied, putting the rest of the unused bandages back in the medic box. "We all have to rely on others at some point."

"Well, if I'm going to rely on anyone, I'm glad I can rely on you."

"Any time, dear," he smiled, leaning over to place a kiss on her lips. She responded in kind, lifting her head to press her against him. His hand caressed her face, his thumb idly rubbing against the healed scar over her cheek.

Even now, in her most vulnerable state, he still found her beautiful.

It was almost like he always thought of her that way.

[lizavet]

@heropartnerweek - Day 4: Great Canyon | Hidden Land | Glacier Palace | Revelation Mountain

There was something strangely nostalgic about the peak of Revelation Mountain. Tuft knew for a fact they had never been there before. But even still, they couldn’t shake the feeling that something about it was… familiar.

How they found a massive clearing with a giant forcefield of light surrounding a small pond familiar, they didn’t know. Maybe they had been here before their Pops found them? He did say he found them close to Revelation Mountain. Maybe this had something to do with their past!

“Looks like some sort of spring,” Archen noted.

Poppy rolled her eyes. “What an astute observation,” she drawled sarcastically. “I wonder why Mawile is the head of archaeology instead of you.” Archen glared at Poppy for a moment as Tuft bit back a laugh. The two of them had been taking shots at each other ever since their first mission together when they encountered Entei, and it never failed to make Tuft giggle.

Mr. Nuzleaf walked over to the forcefield, pressing a hand against it, only to flinch back as sparks exploded across his palm, making him hiss in pain. “Right, reckon that won’t work,” he muttered. “Looks like this crystal thingy be protectin’ the spring.”

“Another brilliant observation,” Poppy noted, though this time with notably less heat.

“Must you?” Archen asked tiredly.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Poppy gave a faux sad face, putting a palm over her heart and shaking her head. “It’s a fatal condition of mine. If I don’t point out the stupid things people say or do, I’ll die on the spot. Extremely tragic.”

“Wonder why this is here?” Mr. Nuzleaf mused, completely ignoring the argument in the background.

“Must be important for something,” Archen said without looking away from Poppy. “Maybe we should look around, see if we can find anything that could-”

“Or we look at the obvious stone tablet that’s right there,” Poppy deadpanned. Tuft followed her gaze over to a slab of stone sticking out of the ground, messy writing scrawled across it. Huh, they hadn’t noticed that. Neat.

Poppy walked over to the tablet to read it… only to squint her eyes and frown after a couple of seconds “Great,” she huffed. “It’s just a load of gibberish.” Archen sighed as he made his way over to her, shaking his head.

“If only Mawile had come with us,” he said. “She could have helped us.”

Tuft walked up behind them, glanced at the tablet for a moment, then squinted their eyes in confusion, looking between Poppy and Archen. “I don’t get it. What’s the problem?”

“We can’t read this.”

“Why not?”

Poppy gave Tuft an unamused look, the one she gave them when they made a stupid joke. “Because the writing is chicken scratch.” Three pairs of confused eyes turned to her. “Oh for- it’s illegible. Nonsense. Stupid squiggly lines of nothing!” she yelled, throwing her hands in the air.

“No it isn’t?” Tuft said, though it sounded like a question more than a statement to them. What was Poppy talking about?

“Yes, it is,” Poppy said slowly. “We can’t read a word of this.”

“I can.”

Silence. Poppy opened her mouth to reply, only to promptly shut it, her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

Tuft pushed their way past a confused Poppy and Archen, sitting down in front of the tablet. They cleared their throat and started to read. “Should you seek to overcome this crisis-”

“Woah woah woah, hold up!” Archen squawked, flapping his wings and jumping up and down. “You can read this?”

“You can’t?”

“No! It takes Mawile ages to decipher this kinda stuff, and you’re telling me you can just read it? What kind of joke is this!?”

“It’s not a joke,” Tuft pouted. “I don’t know why you can’t read this, but I can.”

“Now listen here-”

“They’re telling the truth,” Poppy cut in. Archen snapped his gaze over to her, but she just crossed her arms and met it head on. “Tuft is too stupid to lie. The second anyone calls them out, they start smiling and giggling. If this was a joke, they’d have cracked already.”

Tuft smiled, nuzzling slightly into Poppy’s side. It was nice that she had so much faith in them.

Archen still looked unconvinced, but Mr. Nuzleaf let out a low whistle, running a hand over the leaf on his head. “Well I’ll be an aipom’s uncle,” he whispered. “Reckon we shouldn’t question this an’ just be thankful!” He gave Tuft a reassuring smile. “Hows about you go on readin’, eh?”

“Right!” Tuft chirped. They turned their attention back to the tablet again while Poppy gave Archen a glare, daring him to interrupt them again. Tuft cleared their throat and started reading again.

Should you seek to overcome this crisis, summon a person. A person will have the power to break the barrier over the spring. And the font of light will breathe life into the world anew.

“…Poppy was right,” Archen noted. “That was gibberish.”

“Hey!” Tuft yelled indignantly. “It’s not gibberish! That’s what it says! It’s not my fault you can’t understand it!”

“Oh yeah? Then what do you think it means?” And okay, Tuft didn’t exactly have an answer for that, but they weren’t going to let Archen know that! They really didn’t appreciate him just writing them off like that. They read exactly what the tablet said, and it obviously meant something! They just… needed a second to figure out what.

“To be fair, it is a bit cryptic,” Mr. Nuzleaf said. “Reckon this ‘Font of Light’ is this here spring, but what’s this ‘bout ‘Breathing life into the world anew’? Sounds a bit too vague for my likin’.”

“More importantly, what exactly is a ‘person’ supposed to be?” Archen snapped, fluffing up his feathers. “I’ve never heard the term before, and it’s certainly not any species of pokemon I know!” Tuft tilted their head to the side. Person… they had definitely heard that word before, hadn’t they? They’d heard it from-

“It means me.”

Everyone turned to look over at Poppy, who was watching the barrier with a strange glint in her eye. Her hands were shoved far into the pockets of her hoodie, pulling it down tight on her.

“Pardon?” Mr. Nuzleaf asked.

“A person,” Poppy explained. “It’s… another way to say a human. You need a human to break the barrier.” She looked back at the group with resignation. “That’s me. This… this is why I’m here. This is why I was brought here.”

Oh, right. That was where Tuft had heard that word. Poppy had spent the first couple of months referring to others as ‘People’ instead of pokemon, confusing the folks in Serene Village. It took a while for her to adjust, and to that day she still slipped and used human terms and sayings every now and then.

But hey, that was a good thing! Not only did they figure out why Poppy had been turned into a pokemon, but they also had a way to get through the barrier! It was perfect!

…so why did she look so sad about it?

“That’s all well and good,” Archen cut in, “But what good does that do for us? We get some water. How is that supposed to help us? We came here to find Krookodile, not sit in a hot spring.”

“Maybe the water is magic!” Tuft suggested. “Maybe it’s the solution to all our problems!”

Archen gave Tuft a dry, unamused look. “Please grow up,” he deadpanned. “I know you’re still young, but you have to realize by now that this isn’t a fairytail where magic is real and will fix everything you need it to.” Tuft felt their fur bristle a bit, but gave Archen a smug look in return.

“Oh, right, sorry, is pokemon getting turned to stone not magic enough for you?”

“You know what I mean! We can’t just hope for the best and expect things to go right! That’s not-” he shut his beak as a beeping sound filled the air. Poppy, Tuft, and Archen all looked over at their packs in unison, pulling out their ringing communicators, clicking them on.

“Prehistoric Ruins expedition team here,” Dedenne’s voice called out from the devices. “Do you read me?”

“Krookodile pursuit team here!” Archen replied. “We read you. Are you alright?”

“We’re fine. We had a bit of an incident with the guardians of the ruins, but it’s all sorted. Anyway, that’s not important.”

“I disag-”

“We have great news!”

Needless to say, Tuft was extremely smug when Dedenne informed them that the spring (which was apparently called The Luminous Water) was indeed the solution to all of their problems, as it could reverse the petrification of pokemon. Archen was not impressed.

It did bring up more questions though. Who put the Luminous Water and the barrier there? The stone tablet was ancient, which meant that this had all been put in place centuries ago. How did the ancient pokemon know this would happen? Who summoned Poppy?

But those were questions that could be answered another day. For now, there was only one thing to do. Break the barrier and get the water!

“…and how exactly am I supposed to do that?” Poppy asked, crossing her arms.

Tuft blinked a couple times, tilting their head to the side. “I mean, the tablet says you can,” they said. “So… just do whatever feels natural! I’m sure it’ll come to you.”

“Whatever feels natural?” Poppy asked incredulously. “What, do you want me to punch it or something?”

“Yeah! That’s how you solve most of your problems.”

“…you want me… to punch… the giant, crystal pyramid?”

“Yes.”

“…and you expect this to work?”

“Yup!”

“…”

“…”

“…how many hits to the head did you take on the way up here again?”

Archen scoffed, crossing his wings. “Oh please, as if this isn’t standard behaviour from them.”

“Hey, I’m right!” Tuft argued. “Something goes wrong? Poppy punches it and it stops being wrong. Works every time!”

“No it doesn’t!”

“Yes it does! Pancham is bullying me? Punch fixes it. Ferals attacking? Punch makes them stop. We’re not allowed to join the Expedition Society because we’re too young? Punch stuff to prove we’re good enough. Shopkeeper trying to rip us off? Punch wall to intimidate!”

“Wait you did what?”

“I’m telling you, Poppy’s fist is the solution to all problems!” Tuft said proudly, before looking thoughtful for a moment. “Except pokemon turning to stone,” they amended. “Then the solution is water. Except to get to that water, Poppy has to punch. So once again, Poppy punch is the solution!”

Tuft stood proudly, tilting their chin up and looking very pleased with themself, while Archen and Poppy just stared at her with mirrored long-suffering expressions. Mr. Nuzleaf just looked down at Tuft with a somewhat amused smile. “Ya know,” he said, “I’d pay good money to see what it’s like livin’ in that head’o yours. Figure I’d have some good fun.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty great in here,” Tuft giggled. “One time, I-”

“Oi! You there!” a rough voice yelled, dragging everyone’s attention to the other side of the clearing. Tuft’s eyes blew up wide when they saw who was standing there, glaring at the group with anger and contempt.

“Kr-”

“Kroo-”

“KROOKODILE!”

Krookodile towered over all of them, the shadows of the trees painting his body darker as he loomed, eyes scanning each and every one of them, before landing somewhere at the back and narrowing. He took a step forward, the ground shaking beneath his heavy form, then another, and another, slowly inching closer and closer.

“Finally,” Poppy snarled, cracking her knuckles. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Now hold on there!” Nuzleaf hissed, throwing an arm out in front of Poppy as she tried to move forward. “We can’t go an rush into this! We slip, and he gon turn us to stone!”

Poppy slapped his arm away from her. “Get off me! We literally came here to capture him! We’re not backing down now!”

“Maybe not, but we do need to be careful,” Archen warned. “Nuzleaf is right. One wrong move, and we’re dead.”

“Unless we get that there water,” Mr. Nuzleaf stressed. “Poppy, you need to-”

“I told you, I don’t know how!”

“Guys!” Tuft yelled. “He’s getting closer!”

Krookodile was taking his sweet time, his menacing glare never leaving the group as he stomped across the clearing, completely unafraid. Tuft felt their body shudder under his gaze, the idea that he could end them with a snap of his fingers making their stomach turn to lead. But! They hadn’t come here just to be afraid! They were a fully fledged member of the Expedition Society! They weren’t going to back down.

“Archen!” they yelled. “Help me distract him.” They looked back. “You two get that barrier open! We’ll buy you some time.”

“Like hell you will!” Poppy snapped. “I’m not letting you-”

“HALT!”

“Oh for- NOW WHAT?”

The second the words left Poppy’s lips, a cruel gust of wind swept through the air, sending leaves scattering and nearly knocking Tuft over. The sky above them darkened as storm clouds rolled in from nowhere, blotting out the sun. The wind roared in Tuft’s ears, drowning out the sound of their own screams until-

***ZZZZZZAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

CRSHHHHHHHHHh*

Lightning struck and tornadoes swept through the clearing before dissipating in an instant, revealing two new pokemon, both with canine forms that were all too familiar to Tuft.

“The hell?” Krookodile snarled. “Who are you two supposed to be?” The pokemon both stood tall, holding their heads up high and sneering down at Krookodile like he was a rotten fruit to squash underneath their paws.

“Suicune the Gale!” one declared.

“Raikou the Storm!” the other boomed.

“And you are the one who turned Entei to stone, are you not?”

Krookodile didn’t respond, just narrowing his eyes at the two massive beasts, a low growl rumbling out. Tuft watched the scene play out in awe, trying to figure out what the heck was going on. Everything was moving too fast, and they were having trouble keeping up.

“Suicune and Raikou,” Archen mumbled. “The legendary beasts of water and lightning. They’re Entei’s siblings.”

“They must not be too happy about what happened to him,” Tuft noted.

“Now hol’ on,” Mr. Nuzleaf cut in, keeping his voice low. “This here’s our chance!”

“Our chance?”

“The spring! We can get the water while them two keep Krookodile distracted!”

“He’s right,” Archen said. “Poppy, get that barrier open!”

“I’m telling you, I don’t-”

“JUST TRY!” Mr. Nuzleaf insisted, his voice angrier than Tuft had ever heard.

While Poppy continued to argue with Mr. Nuzleaf and Archen, Tuft’s ear twitched at the sound of grumbling, their head snapping over to look at Krookodile, who was ignoring both Suicune and Raikous, walking straight past them towards the group near the spring. Tuft was about to warn them, until they heard him speaking under his breath.

“-wasn’t part of the deal…”

The deal? What deal? Tuft gave Krookodile a wary look. Was that why he was turning pokemon to stone? Because he made a deal with someone? That… didn’t feel right. Something was wrong. Tuft could feel it in their bones. They were missing something.

“Poppy!”

“FINE!” she yelled. Poppy stomped her way right over to the barrier, rearing back a fist. Tuft couldn’t decide whether to watch her or the approaching Krookodile, head whipping back and forth between them, their nerves on fire. What was going on? Why did they feel like they were missing something?

“We had a deal,” Krookodile muttered lowly. “Where the hell is my money?”

Money? He did this for money? No, no that couldn’t have been it. Krookodile was greedy, sure, but this? And the way he just waved off Suicune and Raikou, despite their demands and threats. They couldn’t put their paw on it, but Tuft knew something was wrong. They just didn’t know what it-

“Where’s my money you hick?”

…no.

“Poppy, wait!”

Too late. Her fist smashed into the barrier, sending fractures racing through the crystal structure, before SHATTERING into shards of light that dissolved in the air. The spring underneath shot a beam of teal light into the sky, signalling to the world that it was free. Hope was alive. But Tuft’s heart sank at the sight.

“There,” Poppy huffed. “You happy?”

“Good work, Poppy,” Archen replied, before turning to glare at Krookodile, adopting a battle stance. “Now that we have the spring water, we can deal with him without fear of being turned to stone!”

Tuft watched as Krookodile’s eyes scanned the group, their heart getting colder and colder as they saw his confused and bored expression. “Spring water?” he scoffed. “I don’t give a damn about that. I just want my money!”

He took a step forward, baring his teeth and pointing a claw out.

“I did everything you told me to! I left those warnings! I let myself get seen! Hell, I even came out here ‘cuz you told me to! And you brought Expedition lackies with you? The hell you trying to pull, Nuzleaf?”

…

White noise filled Tuft’s ears, the entire clearing going dead at his words. The wind stopped blowing, the trees and grass were still, and no one moved an inch. Slowly, ever so slowly, Tuft managed to drag their head to the side to look at Mr. Nuzleaf, fearing what they would see.

It was somehow even worse than they imagined.

Gone was the chill, laid back country man that they knew. Instead, Mr. Nuzleaf had a cruel smirk on his face that looked so out of place. Shadows danced in his eyes, a purple fog coiling around his feet. His body shook ever so slightly, Tuft barely able to hear his low chuckling.

“…reckon it’s time,” he sadistically grinned, an otherwordly echo following his voice that made it sound so wrong. “I don grown tired of all this. The barrier is gone, and now… we’re invincible!”

Laughter filled the air as Mr. Nuzleaf threw his head back, his cruel cackles the only sound in the world. Tuft saw Poppy take a step back, and uncharacteristic look of fear on her face. Tuft found themself at her side in an instant, curling their tail around her back protectively.

Slowly, Mr. Nuzleaf’s laughter faded, and he looked over at Krookodile, giving him a strange smile. “You done good, Krookodile,” he declared. “I reckon… you’ve earned your reward.”

*SNAP

With a snap of his fingers, something dark began to seep out of the air, twisting and coiling around Mr. Nuzleaf’s outstretched hand. It wasn’t shadow, or anything black, it was just… nothing. Nothing at all. Like everything that existed in that space was consumed, destroyed, replaced with utter void. The very sight of it made Tuft’s entire body scream, their brain begging for them to run, telling them what they were looking at was wrong wrong wrONG WRONG! It shouldn’t exist! Nothing can’t exist! But it was there and it was wrong and they had to run!

“The hell are you-” Krookodile started, but his voice was cut off as Mr. Nuzleaf thrust his palm out, the nothingness stretching out and wrapping around Krookodile’s mouth, forcing it shut before dancing over his form. He thrashed and flung himself about, trying to rip it off, but everywhere the void touched his body turned grey, the life draining from his form until…

…there was nothing left but stone.

‘No… it can’t be.’

But there was no denying it. They had seen it with their own eyes. Mr. Nuzleaf was the culprit. The true mastermind. He was the one that turned the pokemon to stone. Tuft should have screamed, should have demanded to know how he could do this, how he could betray them, why he wanted this, or just attacked. He was a grass type! They had the advantage.

Instead, they looked up at Poppy, seeing the life leave her eyes as she shrank in on herself. Tears started streaking down her cheeks, her arms wrapping around her chest, making her look so small. Then, Tuft learned it only took one word to break their heard.

“…dad?”

[elacular-kink]

Poly-techhic 1.5 (No hiccups)

As so frequently happens when I attempt to write self-indulgent smut, I've wound up writing a bunch of hiccupless character stuff as well. What I've written so far feels fairly important to the "story" (such as it is), though, so I'll be posting it as well. Here's a scene where Kiran talks to Olivia (and eventually Maya) about Susanna and tries to learn more about her.

TW: Anxiety, Self-deprecation, BDSM (alluded to)

"U-um, hello Olivia."

"Hi, Kiran. What do you want to know about Susanna?"

I straightened my back out and shrunk in on myself all at once, no matter how obviously contradictory those ideas were. And my stupid hands just wouldn't stop flapping. In the glances I took at her face Olivia didn't look angry or upset. She didn't really look anything. And she never seemed to really look anything, though it wasn't like I'd know if she did. "I-I'm sorry, I don't want to treat you like some kind of—"

"It's fine." She shrugged. "I'm not offended. I know that you like her." Well. Susan had said that Olivia was perceptive. "And I'm the person who knows her best, so it makes sense to ask. I can't promise I'll always answer, but you'll probably get more out of me than her."

"I...it wasn't just about her," I said as if that made me less of an ass. "I was...I wanted to know...wh...what would you say your relationship is with Susan? Er, Susanna?"

Olivia arched her eyebrows. "It's weird to hear someone other than me call her that."

"Sh-should I not?"

"I dunno. Never asked why she never corrected people. Maybe I should. But I call her that and it's fine, so I don't think it's a problem. If it is, though, she'll tell you. But as for your question..." After a moment of thought, Olivia stacked one of the common area's cube-shaped chairs on top of another, making a small cubby which she folded herself into. Since moving the chairs seemed to be fine, I pulled over my own cube to sit in front of her. "Mmm. Whenever people ask Susanna that question, she just says 'It's complicated.' I don't think it is, but it definitely takes more words to explain than most relationships. Susanna's been my best friend since preschool, but she doesn't think that part counts because we didn't go to elementary or middle school together. I think that's dumb." Susan's perspective on that made more sense to me, but I wasn't going to bring that up. "You think she's the right one, don't you?"

"A-aah—!" How did she do that? What did my face do? What were my hands doing now? Wasn't she supposed to be autistic like me? How did she do that?!

"That's fine," she was shrugging again. "Most people feel that way. And it's hard to explain why I'm right without context you probably don't have. And by probably I mean almost certainly. I can't give it to you, by the way. It's Susanna's context, so I don't share it without her permission. No matter how stupid that is. It's simpler to say that if I didn't know her in pre-k I wouldn't have known I should know her in high school. So it's really important. And I never had a better friend than her between pre-k and high school, so she was my best friend the whole time."

"I...think I can understand that logic. I see where you're coming from at least." She smiled at me. Or at least I thought she did. I wasn't certain. But it looked like a smile. "So you would say that you're best friends?"

Olivia nodded. "Susanna would probably say that too, and it's the simplest way to get most of the point across. It doesn't really cover everything though." She uncrossed her legs and started kicking them against the base of the chair. "I'm aromantic. I've never really felt the stuff that other people feel. But I still love people. I love Susanna, and I think I want to spend the rest of my life with her." My face must have done something because her voice got the tiniest bit softer when she spoke again. "Don't worry. I don't want to be the only person she spends her life with. Kind of the opposite. Going to school without her sucked, so because of that, I didn't realize that it was still really lonely with just the two of us. We've both got other friends now. I like that for both of us. But it doesn't change that she's somebody really special to me."

There was an absolutely unjustifiable envy in my chest, but I could feel the warmth underneath it. The fact that she felt no need to monopolize Susan was definitely making feeling happy for them easier. "It sounds like you have a really wonderful friendship."

She crossed her legs again, rocking back and forth on her tailbone. "Yeah. We do."

I wondered if I could ever have had a friend like that. All the preparatory academies I went to focused very heavily on academia, and what few other students there were we were encouraged never to socialize with. They were nothing but future competition. But even if I had been in a normal school environment, if someone as cool and handsome and funny as Susan only had one true friend, what hope could there have possibly been for me?

"And we also have sex." I yanked my eyes up and caught Olivia's by accident. Before I looked away, though, I got enough of a glimpse of her face to see she was grinning widely. Not just the small smile I thought that I might have seen, but something definitely real. "I always like saving that part for last. It's really funny to watch people react to it."

"I-I'm sorry!" I wasn't sure what I was apologizing for, but I absolutely meant it.

"Don't be, I'm having fun." She was still smiling when she said that. "We're still not girlfriends, because we're not dating. And I wouldn't want to be. I can be girlfriends with Maya, though. It means something different for her than it would for Susanna."

"I...suppose that someone whose relationship dynamics are as...unique as Maya's would inevitably result in unusual relationships between her and those around her."

"I was already weird, but yeah."

"So..." I swallowed. "Given that the two of you are...involved with Maya, would it be safe to, um...I mean, I wouldn't want to presume or, um, intrude upon—"

"No, Susanna and I aren't exclusive. I like her having sex with other people." Olivia paused and rubbed her chin. "I guess I can't say that for certain. I've only got one data point. But I'm pretty sure I'd be happy with you fucking her too." I could feel myself flapping and hear my mouth making noises, and I covered my face as hard as I could to try and make both stop. It sort of worked. "Hey. I know that saying this doesn't actually help, but you don't have to be afraid of her. Susanna will tell you if she doesn't like something. That's one of the things I like a lot about her."

I peeked out from between my fingers. "Sh...she said that too. But a lot of people say that they'll say, then they don't."

"Yeah, that's not her. Susanna's better at saying she doesn't like shit than anyone else I've met." Olivia heaved a sigh and started rocking back and forth again. "It's saying things she does like that's the problem."

"Well, I suppose I can understand that. We have one thing in common."

"You do, yeah. You're better at it than she is, though."

"What?" I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. "I...I can't be better at that than her. I can't be better at anything than her."

Olivia hummed. "Programming, chemistry, engineering, math, economics..."

"Y-you know that that's different."

She hummed again. "Sitting in skirts. Not getting in fights. Not getting in trouble in general..."

"I can't be better at socializing than her. Or communicating. I'm...I'm very bad at those."

"There's a lot that's wrong with what you just said, but I don't feel like getting into it right now." Olivia kept rocking back and forth, her eyes pointed up at the chair-ceiling of her cubby. "I haven't known you for very long, but I feel like if you like something, you're able to say that out loud before getting to the point of a complete emotional meltdown."

I blinked. "Has...has that actually happened?" Imagining calm, cool Susan having a "complete emotional meltdown"...the idea just didn't compute in my head.

"At least twice. I'm doing my best to make sure it doesn't happen again, but at the end of the day, that's not really up to me. As much as I'd love to cut the Gordian Knot of her weird anxiety with the knife of just saying shit, that wouldn't be fair to her. I'd be breaking a promise, and I don't do that. And if she never does it herself, she'll never grow. She's gotten better at it since both of those times, though, so maybe she just needs to break the calcium around her brain before she can actually change her mind?" Olivia shrugged. "I don't get it."

I didn't get it either. And I couldn't picture it.

...but I did have information I could get about it. I started forming a corkboard and strings in my mind. What had Olivia said so far?

She and Susan have an intense and loving relationship built up over years

This is not romantic, but it is sexual.

Queerplatonic? Can a relationship be platonic if it's explicitly sexual?

Etymology is frustrating.

This relationship started in pre-k and was re-established in high school after years of separation.

Olivia considered Susan her best friend the entire time they were apart.

There's missing context as to why Olivia feels this initial meeting was important.

It's "Susanna's context"

So something private about Susan?

Olivia likes the idea of Susan having relationships with other people, including romantic and sexual ones.

Or at least she assumes so? From how she spoke about having "only one data point", it seems that the only other person Susan's been sexual with is Maya.

Susan is incapable of sharing her desires

She is extremely capable of communicating her dislikes.

She can't share her desires without "a complete emotional meltdown"

This has happened twice that Olivia is aware of.

After both of these, she says she became better at sharing her desires.

I saw a potential connection and tied a mental red string between 11 and 15. Two emotional breakdowns, two sexual partners. And given that she'd spent so much time in catholic school...by my limited understanding of catholicism, the idea of her having possible hang-ups over sex made a lot of sense.

But then, wasn't she just as prone to sexual humor as Maya was? And seemingly just as comfortable in their queer, polyamorous relationship? Besides that, Olivia had spent some time in the same school system (albeit very little), and she'd demonstrated absolutely no shame or anxiety around sexual topics. Her openness was actually...frankly, a little intimidating. The matter-of-fact discussion of pegging that she and Maya had had in the middle of one of their rugby team's cool-down stretches still haunted my memory and feelings of awkwardness.

...now that I considered that openness though...

"Olivia, may I—" My voice cracked and I looked around, halfway panicked. Nobody else was currently in the common area, though. Not that I could see. "...m-may I ask another question? About Susan?" She shrugged. "I..." I took a deep breath, trying my best to not let my brain light on fire. "W-would Susan's potential...c-context have anything to do with...sexual or romantic relationships?" For a long while, Olivia was silent, and I couldn't bring myself to look at her face. "Y-you don't have to answer!"

"I know. I'm just thinking." Her calm tone let me glance up to look at her, and her face seemed as flat as ever, though she had begun her rocking again. "I'm not sure what kind of way I should answer this question. And me not being sure about that probably communicates something on its own. But then again, we're both autistic, so maybe not. I dunno. Feel free to play with your phone or do something else, I may need to think for a while."

I took out my phone and pretended to be doing something on it. I didn't actually have any games, nor did I have anything I particularly wanted to look up online or people I wanted to text.

...did I?

I looked at the chat app that the women's rugby team communicated with. Susan's profile was there...it was right there.

Could I just ask her?

No. No. I couldn't. Absolutely not. No way. Never.

...but I did have another potential source.

It took me a while to find her since she constantly changed her name and profile picture, but eventually, I managed to find the woman who, to my continued confusion and elation, I was technically dating??? After taking a few deep breaths, I started typing to her.

Kiran (Kiki): Hello, Maya. ...I hope. If this isn't Maya, I'm very sorry.

All 7s slut machine: Nah you got me! Sup Kiki!

Kiran (Kiki): Ah! Good. Well, I happened to have some free time right now, and I've been having a conversation with Olivia.

All 7s slut machine: Hows that work Do you two just Magical brain vibes back and forth at each other?

Kiran (Kiki): ...neither of us is nonverbal, Maya.

All 7s slut machine: I mean Liv is sometimes but not for 'tism reasons. Anyway What were you two fine ladies talking about?

Kiran (Kiki): It's a bit rude, but I was asking her about Susan.

All 7s slut machine: LMAO that checks out Susies never gonna tell you shit about herself unless she doesnt have a choice. So good thinking going with Liv. Whatcha learnin?

Kiran (Kiki): Well, I have a better understanding of Olivia and Susan's relationship now.

All 7s slut machine: Shit really? Explain that to me sometime Not now tho keep going.

Kiran (Kiki): I've also learned about Susan's difficulty communicating her wants.

All 7s slut machine: Yeah she fuckin sucks at that. She made my dumb drunk ass have to sort some of the weirdest shit out just so I could get her to come out of the bathroom so I could fuck her.

Kiran (Kiki): I'm sorry?

All 7s slut machine: Long fuckin story. Probably can't tell you yet. Do you have "The Context"? Except imagine it in like Bigass government letters. THE CONTEXT. Then play scary music or smth

Kiran (Kiki): I'm fairly certain I don't. Would this be the same context that Olivia alluded to regarding their friendship?

All 7s slut machine: THATS THE BITCH

Kiran (Kiki): So may I presume that you actually do know the context?

All 7s slut machine: lol yea And I would fuckin love to tell you about it Kiki I really fuckin would But if I did Susie might actually kill me And by kill me I mean break up with me Whichd like Kill my heart But my heart would go on like Celine Dion Zombie heart. Isnt that a movie? I swear thats a movie.

"I think I've decided." I looked up and saw Olivia sitting up straight again, and I quickly pocketed my phone, turning the sound down to avoid the repeated notifications being sent by Maya. "Yeah. The context has to do with sexual stuff. Good guess. I'm telling you because I'm pretty sure that me even having to think about it was already basically a yes. But I think I'm gonna shut up about it for now, because that's probably more information than she'd want me to ever give."

"I-I'm sorry!"

"You shouldn't be. You didn't do anything wrong." Olivia got up, deconstructing her chair cubby and stretching herself out. "I'm tired of talking, so I'm heading back to my dorm. You can text me if you want, but I probably won't reply for a few hours. See you, Kiran."

"Um...y-yes, bye." I couldn't believe the casual way Olivia said that. Just ejecting herself from a conversation like that...I was horrified and a little offended, but I was also very jealous. And I knew her well enough at this point to not take it personally.

After a moment, I remembered the other conversation I had been having and took my phone back out, seeing a double-digit number of notifications.

All 7s slut machine: Man fuck film critics dude "Trite and formulaic" fuck you! Movies got fuckin zombies in love what more could you want. 34% on rotten tomatoes my ass.

Kiran (Kiki): Um, Maya?

All 7s slut machine: wut Oh shit Ive been ranting Uh What were we talkin about?

Kiran (Kiki): Susan?

All 7s slut machine: RIGHT Susie and her stupid fuckin CONTEXT Okay I cant tell you shit cause Susies dumb and weird about it But I can chuck some hints your way. Liv wants Susie to actually fuckin say it herself but that aint gonna happen so you gotta go detective on this shit.

Kiran (Kiki): You seem really confident that she won't.

All 7s slut machine: I mean she might iunno But shes definitely not gonna do it fuckin fast So Heres some hints.

Kiran (Kiki): Wait!

All 7s slut machine: ???

The correct thing to do here would have been to tell Maya I didn't want any "hints". Even if that wasn't a violation of the letter of Susan's privacy requests, it would certainly violate the spirit.

So telling her to stop would be the right thing to do.

...

Kiran (Kiki): Could you put them under spoilers? I'm Not sure if I want them or not.

All 7s slut machine: lol sure thing cutie God knows you got a bad girl in there wanting to break free. So lemme help you out with a liddle temptation.

"Bad girl", "temptation"...Maya really knew how to make a girl blush.

All 7s slut machine: okay three hints comin right up First ones the least specific second is kinda third is most Have fun sherlock 1. ██████ ███████ ██ ████████ ████ ██ ████ 2. █████ ████ ██ █████ ███ ████ ██ ██████ 3. ███ █████████ ███ ████ ███ ███ ██████ ████

I stared at those three redacted "hints". Why why why did I think this was a good idea? What was I going to do? How could I possibly resist this sort of temptation?

I couldn't help it. I clicked on the first.

1. Susies CONTEXT is actually cute as fuck

...that wasn't particularly helpful. Maya thought a lot of things were "cute as fuck". If they were all as unhelpful as that, then maybe I didn't have to feel so bad about checking them. So I tapped number two.

2. Youve seen me tease her with it before

That wasn't any help either! The way Maya's mind worked was even more of an enigma than most.

...wait, "with" it? Not "about" it or "for" it? So this context was something that could be...wielded? Used? In some way weaponized against Susan? What would one tease someone with? I could feel my face getting redder as I considered the possibilities. A feather, a light touch, a kiss, a whisper, a breath, anything that could potentially be found arousing.

Arousing...was the secret something that Susan found arousing?

That would be relevant to sexual relationships. It would absolutely be something that Maya would refer to as "cute". But would it fit into where Olivia had said she couldn't share it? God, I wished that I had taken notes.

I hovered over the third spoiler. Did I dare?

...no.

No. I didn't.

...but I did dare something else.

Kiran (Kiki): I've looked at the first two hints.

All 7s slut machine: Eyyyy bad girl! Maybe I oughta give you a spanking huh?

PANIC PANIC PANIC PANIC FLUSTER FLUSTER FLUSTER REDIRECT CONVERSATION IMMEDIATELY

Kiran (Kiki): SO ANYWAY

All 7s slut machine: lmao

Kiran (Kiki): With regards to hint #2, would it be a safe assumption that if you've teased her with it before, you're likely to do so again in the future?

All 7s slut machine: You fuckin know it cutie Probably cant say when im doin it though I know you got the tism but you might have to pull a Liv and figure shit out from the way people react to shit.

Kiran (Kiki): That's Difficult. But with the information I've gathered, at least I have an idea of what to look out for.

All 7s slut machine: w/your bigass brain youll get it in no time

Kiran (Kiki): I appreciate your vote of confidence, though I certainly don't share it. ...If I'm not able to figure it out, though, that's That's alright. I'll trust Susie to eventually tell me. Olivia thinks she'd be able to, and she's known her the longest, so I'll trust her judgment.

All 7s slut machine: good call lol Man I gotta take all four of you out sometime. That'd be bitchin. Maybe try and get some embarrassing stories out of Liv. Get Susie chuckin more bread rolls my way. They taste better when a hot girl throws em at you.

Kiran (Kiki): I'll take your word for it.

I closed my phone and sighed, looking up at the ceiling. The lights were so bright. They always seemed to be.

...it occurred to me that the lights were feeling so bright because it had gone dark outside. That...

That wasn't good.

I mean, it wasn't as if this town was particularly dangerous with regard to crime, petty vandalism and underage drinking notwithstanding. And it was a weeknight, so there was no reason that I should be worried at all about the possibility of walking home in the dark. It was irrational. Stupid.

Childish.

For some reason, Olivia's voice rang in my head: I feel like if you like something, you're able to say that out loud before getting to the point of a complete emotional meltdown.

I tried to picture Susan having a "complete emotional meltdown" again. It still didn't work.

I could absolutely picture myself doing so. And it didn't seem like it would take much to set it off. But it wouldn't happen because I couldn't say what I liked. It would happen because...

...because I couldn't say what I didn't like.

Not like Susan could.

I swallowed back a lump in my throat and opened the chatting app again, moving to the server for the Women's rugby team.

# general

Kiran (Kiki): Hello. I'm currently in the common area of Dedication Hall. I've stayed longer than I intended to, so If it's not any trouble Would one of you be available to walk to my housing with me?

God, what a ridiculous thing to ask. I covered my face and felt so stupid, and when notifications started going off, I braced myself before I read them.

# general

Blindside bitch: FS FS, I got u sis. B there in 5.

This ass warms benches: Dammit, Chloe beat me to it!

Blindside bitch: everyone beats u 2 everything slowass lol

This ass warms benches: You want water next game or not, motherfucker?

Senioritis made manifest: Don't fucking text and run, Chloe. You're not helping anyone if you slam headfirst into a lamppost.

Susie Q(ueer): I'll head over too just in case she tramples some freshie and gets arrested.

All 7s slut machine: Sure thats why youll head over lol

Susie Q(ueer): Go back to Vegas, slut machine.

Piper: Speaking of Vegas, over/under on Chloe's head v lamppost?

Token heterosexual: I'm putting money on Chloe's head! It's denser than whatever modern infrastructure is made of.

Blindside bitch: Fuck all u bitches! (xcept u Kiki ur the best ilu <3<3<3)

Even though I was reading the chat, I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing. I believed it both a little more and a little less when I heard the smacking of sneakers against the pavement outside. "Hey! Hey Kiki!" I heard Chloe's voice. "Get out here and tell those bitches I didn't run into shit!"

The fact that an intimidating woman who tackled people (and possibly a much shorter intimidating woman who was also the coolest person I could imagine) was outside and willing to...happy to walk me home...

My stupid hands wouldn't stop flapping as I walked out the door.

[seas-storyarchive]

Angelradio - au

look, to those who want sera and rosie at each others throats for the antler in alastors pants, i offer you another solution:

they are at each others throats because rosie wants what's best for her bestie who doesn't know shit about the sweet words he spews and doesn't trust the seraphim not to take advantage of him. also hellborns are possessive over what they consider theirs. she can read a situation better than alastor, but she will die and ascend to heaven to protect her dumbass friend from his stupidity if she has to, the ultimate ride and die fiendship (yes, fiend ship) if you will.

Alastor held in a sigh - as he knew this whole endeavor was pointless. Him, Vagatha, Charlotte - in heaven, to plead for favor of the Hotel and the progress it would have on the souls of sinners. The opening number to Heaven? Hmm.. not bad.

"And, this is Sera!" The smaller Serraphim intoduced the taller one.

"Greetings." She said, her voice monotone.

Oh, it's charm time - Charlotte was dismissed and- hmm.. Vagatha looked nervous. Oooh, delicious. Well, his charms always worked. Time to lay it on.

He bowed to them, ever the gentleman. "Hello, fairest Serraphims. My name is Alastor." He took their hands and kissed them, fighting his instincts to take a nibble. "We thank you for hearing us out in our endeavors for helping Sinners atone for their lives led of Sin to have a chance for redemption. It is the highest of honors, to bask not only in heaven," he smiled at Sera, "but in your beauty."

Emily was excited. "He's so nice!" She flapped her wings to hover up and look Alastor in the eyes, blocking Sera's face from him. "I hope you get a chance to see Heaven, for more than just a day at least. I mean, I hope you get redeemed but- oh why are you even down there!"

Ah, energy to match Charlotte's. Welp, time to play along it seemed.

"Ah, worry not about myself, young Emilia." He waited for her to land. "No, no, I am but a humble hotelier for our cause. My job is to help others, moreso than help myself, so they may cross those gates to be with loved ones upon these high clouds of light."

"Y- yeah! He's helping us with the hotel!" Charlie had been too shocked to speak. "But, well, we were hoping to get heaven on board. To smooth the process along." Vaggie nodded beside her.

"We.. will see." Sera said finally, as she had finally blinked away her initial starstruckness at Alastor's charms.

--

"Why hide the fact that you're an angel just like us?" Oh, so Vagatha was an angel and-

"There has to be some way to get Heaven on board!"

Vaggie and Charlie looked at Alastor like he'd suddenly gained a second head.

"Serraphims, Angels, Saints, Arch Angels! Please! There has to be something, ANYTHING!" What was he even saying? He wanted to watch people FAIL. He'd made that clear- but.. they'd come this far, fought so hard. Had a bit of hope truly come back to him? No.

But.. but Angel HAD come so far, that those on high hadn't seen. Had no frame of reference for-

"Fine." All heads as one turned to Sera, Alastor heard some pops - curse his ears.

"Wait- what!?" Adam and Lute were outraged.

"I- thank you! Thank you, Sera! We-"

"There is, one condition." Sera explained, cutting Charlie off. "You, Alastor," the Serraphim looked to the deer man, "must fully commit to this program."

Alastor tilted his head. To get Heaven's support.. he had to fully commit to the program. The Program that he was SPONSORING. That he had no interest in doing. That.. he promised the help with. He'd.. made a deal. That was why they were there to begin with. God, this was his punishment, wasn't it.

Fuck.. oh for-

Alright, fine.

He took a deep breath. "Of course. I accept these terms."

Just.. slow progress. Let himself take part, but slowly. It was for the sake of the hotel. For the sake of.. the future.

"But!" He pointed from Sera to Adam and his extermination friend. "The extermination in one month must be cancelled!"

"You can go into your stupid little program," Adam got in Alastor's face, the First Man was angry while the Radio Demon feigned calmness thanks to his smile, "but fuck OFF with you telling me what I-"

"Very well."

"WHAT!?" All eyes looked to Sera again, some necks snapped.

"Hmm." Alastor hummed, genuinely grateful, with a smile. "Much appreciated, High Serraphim. Truly."

"I look forward to seeing you succeed, Alastor." Sera said with a soft smile.

--

"Al! I'm so happy you decided to join the program!" Charlie said with a smile as they stepped out of the Heaven embassy.

"I.. said what I did to help the Hotel." Alastor said with a sigh. He'd fucking done it now. Ho boy.

"You alright?" Charlie asked, looking at his face.

"I just don't think they'll follow through on ending the extermination." Alastor said, being partially true.

"Why would you say that?"

"Charlotte, oh dear Charlotte.. you know nothing of the world of Men." Alastor sighed. Pitiful, really.

--

"So, Al.. what did you want to talk to me about?" Alastor was with Rosie, having hung around Cannibal Town after Charlie led the Cannibals to the Hotel as a precaution.

"It's.." he sighed as Rosie poured them some tea. "You know how you are my best friend, in all of Hell, yes?"

Oh, this shit again? No, he wasn't about to butter her up and NOT discuss anything with her. "What did you do now?"

Alastor made a groan, distorted by his staff, as he flopped back dramatically. "I agreed to partake in this.. reforming of a sinner dribble."

Oh? Oh! "So, you're leavin' me? Aftah all these years of friendship and-"

"No! No! I.." Alastor groaned. "I said it to help get Sera to promise not to-"

"Oh! Sera is her name?" Rosie was now curious. "Is my little Ally-waly finally becoming a man? I'll give you tips on what to say, how to act! Oh! I'll even make you a new suit! Tell Auntie everything!"

"Never call yourself that in reference to me ever again. And I don't need your patronization."

Rosie laughed. "I just, ya know, you found someone."

"She is merely a business associate."

"You wanted an army because you don't trust her. That's more than an associate, doll face." Rosie said, sipping her tea quickly before looking to him again. "So, what does she look like?"

Alastor groaned. "Super tall, cedar-brown skin, white freckles and a white streak going down her nose, and hip-length curled hair colored in a silver-like ombre, white irises, blue-gray sclera, deep-purple pupils- are, are you taking notes?"

Rosie ignored him for a moment to finish jotting down the description. "I need to know who to look for up there if you get your heart broken. Continue."

"I- this is ridiculous! How would you even know if-"

"I'm a woman, we have our ways. And this will be your first relationship, gotta be ready to put the fear of whatever her god looks like into her if she hurts my wittle Ally-waly." Rosie pinched his cheek with a laugh, only to get her hand smacked away and laugh harder.

There was silence, both sipping their tea.

"You'd really hunt her down if she harmed me?" Alastor was curious, and genuinely touched.

"I'd hunt that bitch for fun." Rosie said. "Just give me the word."

"If the hotel gets attacked, consider it sent." Alastor said, grabbing a biscuit.

[frozenjokes]

Signing Back In, Apparently - Finale

Prev

In this state of being, Mumbo and Pearl did not exist, or at the very least, not as separate entities. Physically, there might have been a trace, each still holding the other in a tight desperation, but neither had any connection to those tangled bodies, because there was no neither , there was only one. One who held all parts Mumbo and all parts Pearl. All parts conflict. All parts fear. As far as he knew, he had no name.

She was angry. Angry with a society that had failed him. Angry for the position she was placed in. Angry that he couldn’t save them. Angry that He moved on so easily, so carelessly, while she was left to languish in His shadow. For the reason He took his life; so stupid and so meaningless!

Angry that.. Angry because.. she couldn’t remember His name. Why couldn’t he remember His name? His face?

And so he wailed, she screamed, he shrieked, because she couldn’t remember, and all this destruction had no purpose. Well, maybe it did have a purpose, it could be a release for all this anger, this anguish that was tearing her apart. But that wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this. Why was she doing this?

[I don’t remember why I’m here.] she said.

[I’m here for Him.] he said.

[I don’t remember His name. I don’t remember how to find Him.] she said.

[I will know when I see Him. I keep finding Him, so I must be doing something right. If I keep going I will find Him.] he said.

[Is it worth it?]

[It has to be.]

It was then he spotted Him in the arms of a flickering form, a Light, a being like what he used to be. Scar. Again she roared, she gave chase, she spit flame, she did all she could to end it, to end Him. That was his purpose, that was why he was here. Anything in her way would turn to ash. To the air he took, pursuing his quarry. But then there were the cracks of fireworks, the flash of lights in her face, and again she lost Him, His face, His name. Distress took hold again, and he swore he would rain hellfire on these wretched distractions.

So she dove, jaws snapping at the nearest Light. He felt another get swatted by his wings and another singed by his flame. Then, there was a familiar pull in her chest, Him. Yes, that’s how he found Him, the string, the chain by which they were bound, growing taut as He got further away. [Merlin] remembered, but she would soon forget, as soon as the pull on her being was lessened to a level hardly noticeable. For now, however, he could continue his hunt. With a violent flap of her wings she roared, flying back in pursuit. No more distractions.

He, Scar , was where she knew He’d be, back in the city, now engulfed in her flame. Scar yelled as He saw him, something to the Light that held Him, spurring his defender into a tight dive. [Merlin] followed, smashing through the structure the Light had ducked through. The debris stung her eyes, but she did not lose sight of Scar, pushing forward as concrete fell over her back. [Merlin] didn’t have time to react before something in the air shifted, the smell of sulfur burning his nose.

The explosion left her blind, reeling in silent terror, activating a dread that was deeply embedded in her fragile heart.

[Where did it come from? Where is the damage?] he said.

[There is no ship. Focus.] she said.

[If I don’t act, we’ll drown.] he said.

[What are you talking about?]

[I don’t know.]

Suddenly, she realized she had been stationary and got to her feet. Raised his arms, his wings. Searching. How did she find Him before? Why couldn’t he remember? [Merlin] scanned the landscape to see more Lights in the distance, gathered at a castle-like structure. He would be close by. He always was. The fire followed with great diligence as she ripped through the sky, screaming her fury to the world. But as he approached the castle and its Lights, ready to tear the bricks apart, the entire structure erupted, the foreign fire scorching his legs. [Merlin] wailed, reeling backwards. There was nothing she could do to stop it! They were all going to die!

And then there was another, more crashing thunder, more bright explosions, more noise, it was so much fire, it was too much . The shrieking wail that escaped his throat sounded unlike the monster he was, it sounded almost human, almost Mumbo. The blasts did not cease, if anything, they only increased in number, in volume, until she found herself retreating, anything to escape the ringing in her ears. It was too much. It was too much. The fire, her fire , welcomed her as she landed in an unfamiliar field, parting for her comfort. Surrounding him. Protecting her.

[Merlin] still shook, the fear that held fast on his soul not so easily dispelled.

[I don’t want to fight anymore. I don’t remember why I’m here. I want to go home.] she said.

[I don’t have a home. That’s why He has to die.] he said.

[I’m scared.] she said. [I’m scared]. he said.

When she opened eyes she didn’t know she had closed, two Lights stood tall, right at her nose. Part of him wanted to run, wanted to snap at them, or show them his fire, but he did nothing. [Merlin] only watched, stiff.

“You’re going to be okay,” the smaller Light stepped forward, its pace slow and deliberate “We’re going to get through this. We’re going to figure it out.”

[I don’t believe you.] she flared one set of wings, and then the other as the Light ventured closer.

“Grian, be careful,” the other Light said, tensing at [Merlin]’s warning. The smaller Light turned its head, giving the other a soft look before taking another step forward.

“Can I touch you?” it asked. It was so small. So harmless, so brave, when he was so afraid. [Merlin] closed her eyes, assent. Its hand was so gentle on his face, so warm. Warm like love. [Merlin] pushed her head into its touch. The small Light understood her, understood how she needed it, and leaned forward, hugging her nose. The other, the cautious Light, joined its friend, their touches familiar and comforting.

[Merlin] opened his eyes as he sensed more Lights, lifting his head (and his attached Lights) to see another, and another, and then a small sea of them, energies all so joyful and positive, [Merlin] couldn’t help but embrace their presence. They didn’t ask before touching, but that was alright. The short Light squawked in her defense, attempting to shoo the other Lights away but gave up after a small nudge from one of [Merlin]’s forearms. The Lights curled themselves in his mane, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. [Merlin] let himself relax, resting his head against the fire kissed earth. [Merlin] was suddenly aware of how tired she was, how nice it felt to close her eyes and let the sun warm her back. In this state, it felt fitting for the charred ground to unfurl back to life under his claws, flora blooming back in the stead of his destruction.

‘You’re going to be okay’ the earth said.

“You’re going to be okay” the Lights, Grian and Impulse , said.

The others, the Lights he didn’t know, tied flowers into her mane.

[Merlin] believed them.

[I’m going to be okay.]

Mumbo felt Pearl relax her grip on his back. They stood up together in a world of white noise, where no one could hurt them, where everything was going to be okay because they would fix it. They stepped away. The light of a smoke stained sun faded back into view, the grass under their feet, their loved ones, their friends. Mumbo blinked through the adjustment, his senses fading back into order as she- as he- rubbed her- his-

Mumbo screamed at the same time as Pearl, their pitch and tone eerily similar. Mumbo brought his right foot back, as did Pearl, then his left, as did Pearl, until they were both scrambling in mirrored movements to escape each other, to escape their tangled minds.

“I’m sorry!” their voices raised in sync, but it was Pearl’s apology to Mumbo, an apology for holding on too tight, for dragging him in. He- no she blamed herself, just like she took the blame for everything, for Scar- The part of Mumbo that was also Pearl was starting to fade, but her memories were still fresh like open wounds, an infected angry red. Mumbo felt her pain like maggots in his skin. He would not forget.

There was a moment of heavy silence, one where Pearl had to accept that Mumbo did not blame her, that it was no one’s fault. She had to accept it, because he was still part of her, and she still knew his thoughts and feelings just as well as her own, even as the ties that made them the same existence were starting to unravel.

Pearl was the first to stop their synced reality, breaking off into a horrible wail. She collapsed into herself, the air shattered by her wretched sobs. Mumbo became aware of the ghosts around him for the first time as two moved forward, Grian, Impulse. He had forgotten. He had forgotten so much. He saw Grian lunge and wrap Pearl in a tight hug. Mumbo felt a spike of her fear, fear that she might become a monster and drag Grian down with her. Mumbo wanted to go, to join Grian and Impulse in their frantic comfort, but he found himself frozen to the spot. As he became more in tune with his own body, he noticed how he shook. Every part of him, quivering under the force of his own rage. It was so unlike him to feel this way, it felt so wrong, but Grian and Impulse were too preoccupied to notice. They didn’t notice Scar’s presence either, framed by the flames Mumbo had set. The fire which still burned tall across the island. Mumbo turned to face him, rigid.

Scar smiled, showing no teeth. A real smile, something mild and glad. A smile that said ‘I’m happy to see you.’

“I’m glad you’re alright,” he said, words just for the two of them. “I mean it,” he continued when Mumbo didn’t speak, didn’t move. Mumbo knew he meant it. The sentiment tasted like bile. Scar stepped forward, and Mumbo found himself moving as well, to meet him in the middle. The moment was so quiet. Intimate. Mumbo’s pace quickened as they neared, Scar’s look of wide eyed recognition coming too late as Mumbo winded back, delivering a heavy blow to his face. Scar reeled back with a yell, his hands flying to his mouth. Blood seeped through his fingers.

Well, that got Grian and Impulse’s attention, but Mumbo didn’t hear them as they tripped over their words, struggling between holding onto Pearl and intervening with Scar. They didn’t matter. It was all Scar. Scar looked up as Mumbo advanced on him, raising his hands in a yielding gesture.

“You’re still physical, huh?” Scar laughed, but there was no joy there. “Man, I just can’t quit, can I. What is it that I want from you?” Mumbo tasted blood in his mouth as Scar spit it out of his own. There was no satisfaction here, standing over him. Would there ever be? Maybe another punch would change that. Maybe it would shut him up. A pensive, almost unfocused look in Scar’s eye is all that stopped him from winding back.

“I think I understand, Mumbo,” Scar’s voice was barely a whisper. He met Mumbo’s eyes, something like determination settling over his face. “I think.. I think it’s not just you that needs to let go. It’s funny, isn’t it?”

Mumbo did not move. He hardly had the capacity to think. At the very least, Scar did not smile.

“It’s my fault. As much as I hate you for existing, I still don’t want to lose you. All of you,” Scar laughed again, frustration clear, “Pathetic. No wonder I’m losing my touch. No, no,” Scar hummed to himself, mumbling something Mumbo couldn’t hear. Then, something.. changed. Was it his posture? The way he held himself? As Scar turned and broke eye contact, his pupil seemed to shift, almost turning to a slit. “I think it’s time I take my leave, hm?”

Mumbo’s anger broke, his conviction turning to sand, “Wait, what do you-”

Scar cut him off, tutting, “No more waiting.” He brought a hand to the air in a melodramatic wave, making his way directly toward the surrounding fire, “Goodbye.” Mumbo couldn’t tear his gaze away as Scar went, his stride long and confident. His wings seemed to be in sync with the bounce of his step in a way Mumbo had never seen before. Was he..?

The fire welcomed Scar, parting as he approached. As the wall of flame closed behind him, Mumbo felt the shackles on his chest weaken. The tautness of the chains on his lungs loosening. Mumbo was not free, he knew he was not free, but there was no more warden locking the doors. Panic took its place. He felt the connection to Scar, the invisible string leading from his chest, but he could only follow the line so far before it tapered away. He tried to find Scar, to think of him and know where he had gone. Just into the fire, surely? Into the burning forest? But there was nothing. This wasn’t just a fluke, or a trick. Scar was gone, and Mumbo had never been so afraid.

Mumbo felt a small tug on his arm, and he looked to see Grian’s hand. How long had it been there? He couldn’t bring himself to meet Grian’s eyes. If Scar was pathetic, Mumbo was something worse, something irredeemably miserable. Scar left. He left like it was easy, like it didn’t even matter , like Mumbo didn’t matter. Scar left before Mumbo got the chance to leave first.

“Hey,” Pearl’s voice, as familiar as his own. It was thick with the strain of tears, but had a strength behind it that requested his attention. Mumbo couldn’t face her either. Apparently, Pearl wasn’t satisfied with his stillness, moving to block his view of the distant fire. “ Hey,” she spoke again, voice harder. A demand, now.

“Pearl,” Grian was quiet, voice soft, “Be gentle.”

Pearl’s lip curled, unable to hide her distaste, “Gentle,” she mumbled, delivering a hard poke to Mumbo’s stomach (decidedly, not gentle). Mumbo gasped, keeling slightly, and Grian squawked in alarm. “ I know you!” Pearl brought her voice to a yell, fear behind her wild eyes, “You’re in your head! Neither of us know how to get you out, but I’m not letting you sit and stew!” Pearl poked him again, harder. Mumbo yelped, eyes watery.

“Pearl!” Impulse reached past Mumbo to grab her arm, sending Mumbo startling in the other direction. Pearl fought Impulse fiercely, tears beginning to fall once more. Mumbo’s own eyes welled, and it was only seconds before he was crying too, falling back into the protection of Grian’s arms. Pearl broke from Impulse’s grip, lunging forward to grab Mumbo by his shoulders, shaking. It took Grian and Impulse together to get her to stop. Mumbo stumbled back, dazed.

“Don’t let him win, Mumbo, don’t let him win!” Pearl yelled over Impulse and Grian, both of whom were trying to calm her down.

“I don’t know how .” Mumbo’s voice cracked hollow.

“I don’t-” Pearl broke off, pushing a hand into Grian’s face. Her lower half kicked out at Impulse, her top slipping under his grip and dodging Grian’s reach. Pearl was back to Mumbo in seconds, her grip like death on his arms, “I don’t know how either, Mumbo, I don’t, but I can’t fight this alone,” Pearl crumpled, caving into his chest, “Don’t give up. Please don’t give up. I’ll never make it by myself.”

Mumbo’s breath hitched, tears falling harder, “I- I don’t-”

“ Please.”

“You..” Mumbo trailed off, the words feeling so dangerous on his tongue, “You think we can..?” Make it. That’s what she had said. What did it mean to make it? To heal? To move on?

“Maybe without Scar, we have a chance,” her voice was nearly muffled beyond understanding. So Pearl had also felt it, the permanence of Scar’s departure. Had she known his distress, his attachment, just like Mumbo could feel her anger? But Mumbo felt a spark of something like inspiration in the way she dared to hope. He wasn’t sure if he believed it. Not now, not with wounds this fresh. But maybe, maybe if Pearl could hope, he could try and follow her lead. Try, if not for himself, for her. Mumbo rested his head in her hair, holding fast around her back and shaking as he cried. He felt Grian behind him, pressing tightly against his back as he joined their embrace. Impulse wasn’t far behind, his arms feeling sturdy and safe around his neck.

***

The ghosts of Hermit Island waited for two things before officially opening their new beginning, the start of season ten.

First, the island had to be completely destroyed, erasing all traces of the previous season before moving on. The fire burned slower with Mumbo and Pearl back to normal, so it was a full three days before the flame could eat through every structure and landscape, replacing them with a new land, new geography. Until then, they’d stay gathered in a small area, disturbing as little nature as possible to respect the island as it healed and changed.

Second, as a member of their ranks, Cleo had to recover. As reported over the walkies, Cub hadn’t had much trouble bringing her body back from the dead. In fact, he had managed to do so quite quickly, but getting her mind back in working order proved a little harder. Cub had used the word “zombie” to the great distress of Joe, fighting him on the walkie. At the time of un-death, they were mostly confused and quite a bit bloodthirsty, but these were all things that could be fixed, according to Cub. By day four, Cleo was well enough to participate in the season ten opening ceremony.

Mumbo had been a wreck all four days, and honestly, he had barely been able to pull himself together for this. He didn’t want to go, but the Hermit Island ghosts wouldn’t have that, insisting until he (and Pearl) caved. At the very least he had Grian attached at his hip, almost aggressively supportive in his company. Mumbo rubbed his face, unable to stop himself from tracing the cracks at the side of his head. They hurt to the touch. He wondered if they would ever go away. Where Scar had gone, and if he would ever come back. Mumbo knew a couple of the ghosts had been looking while they waited for the fire to settle, but no one had found a trace of Scar yet. He sighed, leaning into Grian.

“I don’t want to go.”

“I know,” Grian’s voice was quiet, comforting, “It shouldn’t be too long though, and if we’re settling here, we should make an effort to know their culture, right? Listen, if you or Pearl have to leave early, or cry, or anything, they’ll understand. But it’s probably good for you two to do something after these last couple days.”

“How am I supposed to face Cleo,” Mumbo’s voice was flat, his emotional energy too spent.

“You heard her over the walkie. She knows it was an accident.”

“Accidental murder is still murder.”

Grian shook his head, giving Mumbo a sad look, “I know this is going to be hard, but you have to try not to get caught up on this now. I’ll be at your side the entire time. Pearl and Impulse too. We’ll make it through this.” Grian took his hand, guiding him forward, “We should go.”

Mumbo only nodded, letting Grian take him first to Pearl and Impulse, and then to the circle where the rest of the ghosts were gathered. His stomach dropped when he remembered he still didn’t know half of their names. At the very least, most made an effort not to stare. He found himself moving closer to Pearl, who returned the gesture.

Xisuma, who Mumbo recognized from his first visit to the island, looked delighted to see the four of them, greeting each of them with bright eyes. “I promise not to keep you, and trust me, no one lingers after this is over. I bet they’re all just as eager to get out into the world as you all are, I’ve overseen many eras of this,” he laughed, a bit awkward.

“We’re happy to be here,” Grian offered, Impulse contributing his own agreement. Mumbo and Pearl exchanged a look, which nearly made Mumbo laugh. He had no idea why, but it felt nice to smile. Pearl offered her own in return. ‘We’ll get through this together.’ A silent agreement. A sentiment he needed when he spotted Cleo, which nearly sent him bursting into tears. Her skin was sickly and pale, with eyes that sagged a little at the sockets. The clothes they wore covered about as much as they possibly could, but every visible patch of skin had stitches stuck through. She caught his eye, offering a small wave before heading off to talk with other ghosts. Mumbo wasn’t sure he could take much more, and Pearl looked just as mortified. Grian squeezed his hand. It’s going to be okay.

Mumbo was grateful when Xisuma called the ghosts to attention shortly after, everyone gathered breaking from their smaller chats to join the bigger group.

“Right! I think it’s about time we begin,” Xisuma’s voice sounded stronger now, far less awkward than before. This must be familiar, practiced. Mumbo could imagine a smile under Xisuma’s mask as he continued, “We’ve got new members joining us this season, and with new ghosts come new ideas, new creative spirits, and new opportunities for all of us,” Xisuma paused, lowering his tone, “We also know, all of us, that ghosts don’t tend to come around from happy endings. That it’s not easy to find peace. Or easy to keep it.”

Xisuma took a deep breath before speaking again, “My death, and a couple of others that are still here, happened on this island. Killed by its odd habit of self destruction. We had no idea until it was too late, but as ghosts, we built something new, something wonderful. That is, until it was all destroyed again, ending season one. We were in disarray. We were scared.” Xisuma looked away, like the memories were still affecting him, even now, “I don’t know where the poem came from. If any of us wrote it, no one ever admitted to it. Maybe it just appeared? A note for us to find, when we needed it most. Well, let this serve as a reminder for anyone who needs to hear it. New and old faces. You’ve played well.”

Xisuma began to recite the aforementioned poem, the words taking a practiced and natural flow. It was long and beautiful, chronicling the universe and its love of the people that fight, love, create, in its bounds. Mumbo lost track of the time as he listened, losing himself in the narration. It was only near the end where Xisuma’s voice broke, straining through to finish the line.

“and the universe said I love you.”

Silence followed the words as Xisuma struggled to compose himself, lasting such a long time, Mumbo thought it might be over. But the other ghosts picked up where he had left off, speaking one by one.

and the universe said you have played the game well

and the universe said everything you need is within you

and the universe said you are stronger than you know

and the universe said you are the daylight

and the universe said you are the night

and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you

and the universe said the light you seek is within you

and the universe said you are not alone

and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing

and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code

and the universe said I love you because you are love

He was suddenly aware of Pearl’s grip on his hand, tight like death. Tight like love. He saw Grian’s eyes, near tears, and Impulse, crying unabashedly. Mumbo felt his own tears rolling down his face. He looked at his friends, his family, his lifelines, and knew with complete certainty that he would heal.

That they would all heal. That everything was going to be okay.

the Minecraft End Poem is written by Julian Gough

[delilahirina]

Once upon a time there was a gloomy midnight, cursed, plunged in the deepest purples and reds, while I was looking, on my bed with a sheet printed with basketballs, weak and tired, many photo albums, full of memories, while my eyes had not slept for a long time and my dark circles had become painful...

As I was nodding off, almost taking a nap, something I had sworn I would never do again, suddenly there was a tapping sound, as of someone knocking softly, banging on my front door.

"At this hour?", I muttered, "No, it can't be, there can't be anyone at this hour, it must be just the wind...just that and nothing more".

I distinctly remember it was in the bleak December; and every dying ember left its ghost on the ground.

I anxiously looked forward to the next day, and the day after that, until the end of my days. From my albums came the relief of grief, grief for my rare and radiant friend, named Sunny, once a whole person, full of life, strange but overwhelmingly happy...now, in the ground, under a coffin, now nameless here and forever more.

And the silky, sad, uncertain whisper of each orange patterned curtain of those stupid basketballs...I shivered, filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; so now, to calm my heartbeat, I kept repeating....

Suddenly my soul grew stronger; then I hesitated no longer, and carefully made my way down my darkened house, avoiding bumping into the stair railing, and grabbed the knob of my front door, and peeked out part of my face, feeling the cold night air crashing against my features.

"'It's Hero, my parents, they want to come in the house. Yes, that must be it. It's that and nothing more."

"Hero?" I said, "It's 3 o'clock in the morning, Hero, why are you coming home at this hour?" here I opened the door wide... darkness and nothing more.

Deep in that darkness, looking out into the empty street, hearing the little creaks of the flow of electricity powering every house in this cursed town, I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting, imagining things no mortal dared to dream before, a ghost, a creature, anything inexplicable to the human; But nothing was happening, but the silence was unwavering, and the stillness gave no sign, and the only word I managed to utter from my mouth was the whispered word, "Sunshine?" This I whispered, and a cursed echo, a resonant, haunted echo from the darkness of the night, beyond the trees, murmured the word, "Sunshine!"... only this and nothing more.

I went back to my room, slamming my door shut, running, with beads of cold sweat running down my forehead, my soul on fire, feeling my body tensing and my breath quickening, and my eyes bloodshot as I locked my room, when, soon I heard again a knocking somewhat louder than before.

"Surely," I said, "surely it must be some drunk wanting to play a prank, surely it's some person, Kim, someone, wanting to punish me for not saving Sunny, probably it's nothing, yes, it must be that, just that and nothing more."

Here, I walked down towards the living room, my hands shaking, and flung open the door expecting some infamous, Mephistophile creature, when, with much flapping and effort, in came a majestic raven from the holy days of yore. A plumage black as night, and pupils as black as Sunny's. Not for a minute did he bow, not for a minute did he pause, but, with arrogance and elegance, interrupted in my home, ascending to my room, and finding himself in my room dimly lit by the night lamp I own, he perched on an old photograph with my group of friends, right next to my bed... he perched, sat down and did nothing more.

Then this ebony bird seduced my sad fancy to smile, by the grave and severe decorum of the countenance he wore, I could see him, I could see him.

"S-Sunny," I said, plunged into the deepest madness and delirium, "It's you! I-I knew you couldn't have died, I knew you would come back to me" I said in tears, almost sobbing at the sight of the raven's black eyes, as I tried to erase from my memory his crushed body and non-existent head on the hospital parking lot floor "Sunny! Say something, please, please, please say something, I need you, I don't know what to do, Basil was murdered and Aubrey hasn't left her house. Please, what can I do, say something." Forgetting that crows couldn't talk, I don't know what I expected, even if this crow was Sunny, he obviously couldn't answer me, when, unexpectedly, the crow uttered: "Nevermore".

I was amazed to hear the voice of this raven, it was identical to the voice of my beloved Sunny, and not only that, this ungainly bird spoke so clearly, the mere fact that it spoke was wonderful, however, its response held little meaning, little relevance in my eyes, for we cannot help but agree that no human being alive has ever been blessed to see a bird with the countenance of his beloved, in his own room, and have it answer him with a word such as "Nevermore".

And the raven, sitting placidly and solitary in the picture frame, said only that one word, as if his soul in that one word was poured out. Nothing more did he utter, not a feather did he flutter, nor did his beak gesticulate, nor did his eyes move....

Until I barely murmured "Sunny, you don't know how happy I am...thank you, thank you for coming back, promise me you'll never leave again, that you won't fly away again like my hopes." Then the bird declared, "Nevermore."

Startled by the answer so aptly delivered, I smiled, trying to make sense of the answer "Sunny" I said, "You are so sweet, so beautiful, in spite of all that happened you came back, but please, say something else" then I pondered. He jumped off the roof, wanting to end his life, and whatever was tormenting him would stop him at that moment, and so he can only exclaim the word "Nevermore".

But the raven kept seducing my sad fantasy to smile, to smile at its soothing presence, so similar to that of my beloved, and so, I stood on the edge of my bed, moving my head to one side like a curious labrador dog, looking at the beautiful bird and the open door to the darkness.

Then, letting myself sink into the soft mattress stamped by those damn basketballs, I started thinking.

I was thinking, thinking fiercely, thinking about what this ominous bird of yesteryear, possessed by my departed beloved, my gangly, ghastly, emaciated, ominous bird of yesteryear with the voice of my extinct sunbeam wanted to say as it squawked "Nevermore."

But the bird did not utter another word, the raven did not utter another sentence, and stood there, watching me, dimly illuminated by the orange lamp, a bird with the countenance of my beloved represented in that photograph on which I was sitting, ready to return to school after a hard summer, now unable to see a summer again, a bird whose dead eyes now slaughtered my heart. With this doubt, I stared at the bird, as I felt my head burn with a thousand doubts, observing the shadow the bird cast on the wooden floor of my home, a black that reminded me of a hole, a hole into which my beloved fell, and from which he may come out nevermore.

Then, it seemed to me, the air became thicker, perfumed with the pretty scent of tulips that my beloved was expelling as he walked, with a tired but beautiful face, and then, in desperation, I grabbed the face of the raven from its banks.

"Sunny", I cried, "Say something else, I will do anything, I will play with you, I will give you everything you ever wanted, we will go on adventures, everything will go back to normal, we will return to happiness, but please, say something else" And then the raven said a prayer word I feared: "Nevermore".

"Sunny!" said I, "I'll be good, but please tell me something! Where did you come from, where did you appear from, why did you do it, in heaven there is happiness and cherubs and angels?" And then the raven said: "Nevermore".

"Sunny!" said I, "Death was...immediate? Death is not so bad? Death made you happy? What's after death? Were you happy when you died?" and then the raven said words that devastated me: "Nevermore".

"Sunny" said I, plunged into the deepest despair, looking for some other question, something else that could answer me, when defeated, and knowing what I would probably answer again... "Will we ever be happy again? Will there be no more deaths? Is Aubrey going to live? Will Hero live? Will I live? Will we ever get over you leaving? ...Are you happy?" And then the raven answered, with what seemed more forcefulness, more mercilessness, but at the same time, analyzing his face, he looked sad, he looked resigned, he looked defeated, while he said his phrase: "Nevermore".

I fell resignedly to the floor, as my eyes, briefly glittering, plunged back into the deepest darkness, watching my shadow cast by the orange light of my room, mingled by the shadow of the raven, and the shadow of my beloved trapped in the bird, seemed to pierce my heart. And from the blended shadows, I looked deep into the darkness of that compound shadow, injecting my eyes into the darkness, until I seemed to see a hole in the center of reality, in the center of my soul, and any hope I had was swallowed up by that hole, as I said to myself, Aubrey will die. Hero will die. You will die. You will all die. And the light was in my soul, nevermore.

And the raven with the spirit of my beloved, who never flutters, still sits in the frame of the old photograph, looking at me every night until the end of my days, without eating, without drinking water, impassive, unbeatable. And his eyes look like those of an angel dreaming, and the light of the lamp above him casts his shadow on the floor, with my soul trapped in that shadow, while I understand. They will all die. I loved him so much. Oh, I loved him so much.

And my life will be held in the shadows.

And my body will be swallowed by the underworld.

And my soul swallowed by that shadow of that raven with the soul of my beloved, will be raised.... nevermore!

Adaptation of The Raven, by Edgar Allan Poe

Original art by @madnopost in Twitter and Instagram, as well as Your Time AU, in which this story is based. written by me

[luckyluan]

CHAPTER 4.2

“But you don’t have to be ashamed of your DNA either.” Oswin countered. 

“You know what, we’re not doing this. You are not supposed to be here and there will be no naked men in my house especially if we aren’t--you just can’t be here.” Livingston finished. 

He snatched the broom from its leaning perch on the wall and jabbed at Oswin until he moved toward the patio doors. Livingston snapped at him until the unicorn jumped backward over the threshold and held out his hands in caution. 

“I can’t leave yet!” Oswin exclaimed. 

“Why the hell not?” Livingston whined. 

“Because I found you for a reason, Doctor Crane. Despite our tumultuous beginnings I am certain I am present as a reminder of some sort. I must figure out what. We must.” Oswin concluded. 

“Oh, I’ve figured it out, Oswin. You found me because you were hungry. Our tumultuous beginnings are because you’re a thief. And you are the perfect reminder of why I am never going back to the Abnormal world. Too much drama. Did I miss anything?” Livingston hissed. 

“You are right, Doctor Crane. I found you because I was hungry. I found your wolfsbane too.” Oswin said. “It is legal, is not? To grow, I mean. I’m pretty sure I still have a friend or two in Perliament who would love to know about your...science.” 

“Y-you’re blackmailing me?!” Livingston squeaked. 

Oswin wagged his bushy eyebrows. He, now, stood with the blanket suspended in lumpy drapes from his forearm and his black skin gleamed under Livingston’s yellow porchlight. His chest rose and fell with even breaths and Livingston fumed. He could take a chance and send Oswin away, but his houseguest’s smirk suggested he was being truthful. Livingston softened. 

“Fine.” he conceded. “In. But don’t you dare sit your bare ass on my couch.” 

Livingston stood aside and Oswin squeezed beside him with a wide grin. The doctor shut and locked the door before he turned back to the unicorn.  

“The couch is the thing you were going to strike me with, right?” Oswin mocked. “I’m joking, I’m joking. Ummm...about food...” 

“I’ll figure out the food situation. You desperately need a shower. You smell like a barn and you’re tracking mud into my house. Please tell me you know--” Livingston fussed. 

“--I know what a shower is, my friend, and I thank you for your hospitality.” Oswin acknowledged. 

“Up the stairs, last door on the hall, towels in the closet. Use whatever you need.” Livingston sighed. 

Oswin bent his knees to the ground in a graceful bow before he turned for the stairs. The blanket tantalized him when it flapped between the bare skin of Oswin’s muscular thighs. The doctor bit down on his bottom lip as Oswin disappeared ono the second floor. He wandered into the kitchen and pressed his back against the steel door of his refrigerator. 

“Please let this be a dream.” he mused. 

Livingston flexed each finger as he counted the correct number of digits. His heartbeat spiked and reality pressed down on his shoulders. An Abnormal stranger was in his home, and, after the last year of his life, that was a terrifying thought. A spindly prickle licked the back of his neck when he thought about Oswin skulking in the shadows. He imagined Oswin with a sharp knife raised over his head and a crazed expression in his eye. Livingston flinched as his imagination conjured an image of Oswin’s massive arms as they lashed out from the inky shadows. His eyes widened. 

“Fuck.” he grunted. “I’m so stupid!” 

He snatched a meat cleaver by its worn wooden handle free of the knife block and sidled up the stairs on the tips of his toes. The only sliver of light on the dark landing came from the end of the hall where the door to the guest bathroom lay ajar.

[howlingday]

The Ruby-O

Once upon a time, a young boy skipped through the thicket and wood,

And came upon a Lancer, up to no good.

Weiss: Boy dressed in white, where off do you skip?

Weiss: Step into my hive, for a nap and a nip.

Jaune: Y-You're too kind, Miss Lancer, to offer me so,

Jaune: B-But I already have a date with the, uh, Ruby-O.

Weiss: The Ruby-O? Who is the Ruby-O?

Jaune: The Ruby-O? D-Don't you know?

Jaune: She has stick that bangs, and a blade that cuts!

Jaune: And her cape flaps as much as it fluts!

Weiss: Where are you meeting her?

Jaune: Over here, by this tree,

Jaune: And she loves nothing more than the scream of Schnee.

Weiss: The scream of a Schnee?! How horrible and crass!

Weiss: I shall flutter away to save my own ass!

Jaune: Hahaha! What a fool she is! Does she not know?

Jaune: There's no such thing as a Ruby-O!

..................................................................................

The young boy continued, over the rivers and flood,

And came upon an Ursa, hungry for blood.

Yang: Boy with hair of gold, where do you tread?

Yang: Join me in my cave, so I can warm and be fed.

Jaune: So sweet, dear Ursa, but I must say no.

Jaune: For you see, I have to meet with the Ruby-O.

Yang: The Ruby-O? Who is the Ruby-O?

Jaune: The Ruby-O? Don't you know?

Jaune: Her hood is of blood, and her speed is like wind,

Jaune: And petals fly out where ever she's been.

Yang: Where are you meeting her?

Jaune: Close, o'er by the billabong,

Jaune: And she loves nothing more than the head of Xiao Long.

Yang: The head of Xiao Long?! How wicked and cruel!

Yang: I must flee, before I am made a fool!

Jaune: Hahaha! Ursai are so stupid! Doesn't she know?

Jaune: There's no such thing as a Ruby-O.

..................................................................................

The young boy traveled far, crossing sea and sand,

Until he set foot onto Beowolf land.

Blake: Poor, sweet, little boy, so lost and alone!

Blake: Step into my den, and we can feast to the bone.

Jaune: You're generous to give, but I really must go.

Jaune: My companion awaits, the one and only Ruby-O.

Blake: The Ruby-O? Who is the Ruby-O?

Jaune: The Ruby-O? Why, don't you know?

Jaune: Her eyes are silver, and her grip holds true,

Jaune: And she has a dust for every Grimm, even including you!

Blake: Where are you meeting her?

Jaune: Not too far, just over yonda,

Jaune: And she loves nothing more than the eyes of Belladonna.

Blake: The eyes of Belladonna?! How sinister and vile!

Blake: Then here I shan't stay! Not now or for a while!

Jaune: Hahahaha! Oh, Beowolves are so easy! Why doesn't she know?!

Jaune: There's no such thing as a Ruby- Oh?

But who is this creature,

With a stick that bangs,

And a blade that cuts,

With a cape flaps as much as it fluts,

With a hood of blood,

And speed like wind,

With petals that fly out where ever she's been,

With her eyes like silver,

And grip holding true,

And has a dust for every Grimm?

Yes, including YOU.

Jaune: Oh dear! Oh my! Oh heavens! Oh no!

Jaune: IT'S THE RUBY-O!

Jaune: I'm harmless! I promise!

The little Grimm swore.

Jaune: It's not worth the dust to blow me to gore!

Jaune: Have mercy! I beg you! I've nothing to give!

Jaune: ...But if killing Grimm is what you fancy,

Jaune: Then I'll show you where they live.

..................................................................................

Weiss: ...Who is this beast who plays with one who annoys?

Yang: Why would they bother with that small boy?

Blake: Something's unusual... Something we can't see...

Blake: He says he is meeting-

Weiss: By the tree-

Yang: By the billabong-

Blake: Just over yonda!

Blake: And their favorite thing is-

Weiss: Screams of Schnee-

Yang: Head of Xiao Long-

Blake: Eyes. Of. Bella. Donna!

Jaune: Ahem! Hello, my dark kin! Come and meet my friend!

Jaune: Yes, meet the one and only Ruby-O,

Jaune: And come meet

THE END