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ohtobeleah · 2 months

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Secret Sacrifices // Jake Seresin

Prologue: [BrainBox]

Summary: Managing the Hard Deck isn’t always easy, especially when a certain Naval Aviator is always just one step away.

Warnings: Illusion of family loss. Jake Seresin X F!reader. Witness Protection Reader. Situationship. 18+ Content.

Word Count: 1.6k

Author Note: I’m getting back into writing after a few weeks hiatus, any feedback, comments and concepts will be greatly appreciated.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The human brain can be seen in scientific communities as the most mysterious organ in the human body. The human mind can generate up to seventy thousand thoughts a day, which means there are around two thousand nine hundred thoughts created every hour.

“Mommy!”

The human brain can store around about two point five terabytes of information at any one time. That capacity of storage is equivalent to about three million hours of television reruns or one million high-quality photos. Take your pick.

“Come on—wake up! WAKE UP PATRICK!”

The human brain can generate an electric current of about twenty-three watts. That’s enough to light up a round bulb. And although the human brain only accounts for two percent of your total body weight, it consumes more than twenty percent of the human body's total energy.

“Please don’t leave me, not now—oh god please don’t leave me.”

The length of all blood vessels in the brain, if combined, would reach a maximum length of about one hundred and sixty thousand kilometres. That’s enough distance to wrap about the earth’s circumference four times over.

“Mommy I’m scared!”

Each nerve neuron in the human brain has up to ten thousand connections with other neurons, not only that, but there are upwards of one hundred billion neurons in the brain. Which means there are more than one thousand trillion neuron connections formed in the human brain.

“We just have to keep running baby.”

The amygdala, a part of the brain responsible for coordinating emotions, has an information processing speed of upwards of twenty ms. This speed is even faster than the speed at which humans can perceive something.

All of these facts lean towards the idea of the human brain being some sort of supercomputer that we have been given. Programmed into our very existence by evolutionary biology.

“No baby girl you stay with Mommy, it’s okay—don’t you close your eyes again okay?”

And yet? Despite all the wonders and capabilities that the human brain can accomplish—Your brain keeps you stuck in a time loop of unimaginable grief and despair.

“Brewer?” The world around you had seemingly stopped for a few moments. The regular Friday night hustle of the Hard Deck had all but dissipated into silence when the overwhelming haunting noises of your own personal hell had become too loud to drown out. “Hello? Earth to Brewer?”

“What?” You frowned as you shook yourself back into existence. What you found, or more accurately, who you found standing before you across the bar made your heart skip a panicked beat. “Jesus Seresin, you scared the hell out of me.” You sighed as you felt your heart beating rapidly inside your chest. The same heart that had loved and lost so much. The very heart that right now was plagued with the dilemma of falling for the sandy blonde who stood before you with eyes that could rival the Emerald City itself.

“How?” Jake questioned as a confused frown took over his face soon after the words left his mouth. “I’ve been standing here for like two minutes just watching you zone out like some space cadet.” The chuckle that escaped Jake's slightly parted mouth soothed your beating heart into a steady rhythm.

Oh. How long had you been zoned out for?

“What can I get ya?” You decided to let it go as you shot Jake a short but harmless smile. There was no need to ask or spend too much time focusing on how long you’d been stuck standing still cleaning the same spot on the bar over and over while your thoughts consumed you. Besides, you didn't really want to know how long Jake had been standing there looking at you like a moth drawn to a flame.

“The usual, times four thanks barkeep—“ Jake replied as he reached into his back pocket, finishing out his wallet. A simple brown leather moment that always made you feel like your past was trailing right behind you. “Plus a lemonade with lime for the underage Back Seater.” There it was, that signature Seresin smirk accompanied with that wink. Insufferable. Cocksure. Endearing.

“Four Budweisers and a lemonade coming right up.” You smiled once again as you threw your bar towel over your shoulder and got to work. Jake took the time to perch himself on one of the empty bar stools that littered the outskirt of the bar. Patrons buzzed around the Hard Deck like there wasn’t a care in the world to be had on a Friday night. “And lay off Bob, he gets your drunken ass home more often than not so you should be more thankful for his intolerance to alcoholic beverages.”

Jake beamed at your lighthearted remark, they came few and far between. Whenever he was graced with the pure nature of your smile or your dry sense of humour, Jake reveled in it. So much so the crush he harboured had become common knowledge to half of Miramar. Yourself included. He wasn't a shy man, far from it. Jake knew what he wanted and, usually, he got it.

But you? You had been playing hard to get and hard to crack ever since you showed up to the Hard Deck around six months prior. From the first moment Jake saw you he’d been caught hook, line, and sinker. Six months of chasing the same girl round in circles.

“What had you lost, Brewer? Daydreaming on the clock isn’t usually your thing?” Jake asked as he got comfortable, leaning forward on his elbow as he watched you grab four Budweisers from the cooler fridge beneath the bar. He didn't miss the look on your face, the one that would occasionally replace the mild-maned stare you'd give off to slightly agitating customers. It was a look Jake couldn't really read–one that he wasn't sure if he would ever get to the bottom of, but he let it go, didn't press.

“Just got caught up thinking about how I'm gonna spend my Sunday off.” Of all the lies you could’ve made up that seemed to be the most believable.

“What are we doing on Sunday, Brewer?” Jake teased as you placed the still-capped amber bottles on the bar before him. The smirk he wore said it all, he was waiting for you to bite. And bite you did.

“God, you've got tickets to your own show don't you, Seresin?” You shook your head with a laugh as you popped the caps on the beers you'd collected. “I– am planning a reset, just have a lot of housework to get done, laundry, meal prepping, self-care.” You teased the meaning behind self-care as you reached for the soda gun. “Which reminds me I need new batteries.”

Jake caught the look in your eyes as you filled the glass to the brim with ice with your free hand and let the liquid drain from the gun. “Kinky girl, you sure we aren't hanging out on Sunday?” The smile, that damn infection smile that could light up the darkest of rooms made your head spin. But you couldn't go there. Harmless flirting was one thing, but crossing that line could cost Jake everything.

He wasn't even aware of how close he was tempting death. How close he was standing to fire. How close he was standing to a woman who had lost everything in the name of being a good person.

Unlike Jake, you had already lost everything.

“In your dreams, Bagman.” You chuckled lightly, Jake's order was all but done. “Cash, Card or on Bradshaw's Tab?” The question remained unanswered for a few moments as Jake just sat there taking in the sight of the bartender who had him wrapped around her finger with ease. A spot he wouldn't mind staying forever if you'd let him. But for now? He knew he had to play the long game: Catch me if you can! you had forced him to play.

“You tempt me, but card it is.” Jake confirmed as he fished his card from his wallet. “Someone has to keep Rooster from going into financial ruin.” It only took a few seconds for you to place all of Jake's drinks, the four beers and one lemonade with lime, onto a carry tray. “I think Payback’s been piggybacking on his bar tab too.” Jake smirked as he gave you an all-knowing look. You had been caught red-handed, but it was all circumstantial evidence at best.

“Never took you as a softy.” Bradley Bradshaw still owed you an apology for his drunk and disorderly behaviour a few weeks ago. Behaviour that saw him hurling abuse your way when you cut him off. The guy was going through a breakup of sorts, of course you felt bad. But until he said he was sorry? His tab was racking up a pretty penny of top-shelf liquors and extra beer orders from the boys. “But fine, tap your card whenever you’re ready.”

“This place is starting to charge a premium price for cheap booze ever since they hired a new manager.” Jake let out a sigh laced in banter as he paid for his order, the tip he left never went unnoticed either. Jake was good like that, he always tipped with a smile and a few extra bucks to make his almost cheesy pickup lines and banter worth your while. “And there's a lot of things you don't know about me Brewer.” With one final wink and signature smile, he was off.

“Funny.” You mumbled to yourself as you watched Jake walk away back towards the same booth the boys all lingered around whenever they weren't hogging the pool table. The same booth you frequented the most. The same booth you gave a little more attention to–because Jake Seresin, despite all your might, had a hold on you that you couldn't seem to get out of.

“I guess I could say the same damn thing.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

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#secret sacrifices // jake seresin #jake hangman fic #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun fandom #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction

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storiesoflilies · 21 days

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Of Angels and Curses

Synopsis - In a world where Angels and Curses are locked in a never ending war, an unsuspecting seraph becomes entangled with the very thing she is fated to eradicate.

Pairings - Curse!Toji Fushiguro x f!Angel!Reader. Curse!Ryomen Sukuna x Reader. Angel!Satoru Gojo x Reader.

Warnings - Descriptions of violence and injuries, eventual smut. Cannibalism(?) (idk it’s Curses eating each other), violence of war. Toji being a lil spicy ;)

A/N - Apologies for the delays with this one! The edits for Chapter 6 and 7 really took it out of me (if you haven’t re-read them yet, then I highly recommend you do!) Anyways, enjoy this chapter! Ko-Fi.

-•-

Chapter 8

It was frightening how easily Y/N slipped back into the dance of war.

But then again, it was second nature to her; a tune to a song that had been sung for a thousand years. It was etched into her very being, she’d heard the words sung from inside her mother’s womb, felt its resonance the moment she was born, and sung it herself when she descended to Earth from Heaven. No Angel, from the dawn of time, had ever escaped the call of this haunting song.

However, the song had a far different tune in Hell than it did anywhere else.

Battles won on Earth had been marvelous victories, where just a bit more sin had been cleansed from the world. But here in Hell, sin multiplied tenfold, especially after a battle was won. Y/N didn’t know why every victory she won felt like a loss. Perhaps it was the sight of her own soldiers feasting on the corpses of the dead, both enemies and comrades, their greed knowing no bounds as black blood gushed forth to make the ground muddy. Perhaps it was the fact she took no prisoners of war, leaving none alive because the severity of torture they would face would be a waste of her soldiers time. Or perhaps it was the persistent feeling that, despite every victory, the end was nowhere near in sight.

Naoya and Jogo’s soldiers proved relentless, pounding against Geto’s borders without pause.

Again.

And again.

And again…

Y/N hadn’t slept in seven days, and how could she? There was no time, and it was far too dangerous to sleep. She hadn’t seen Geto for nearly a month; any and all correspondence was done via Suda, who never rested either as she relayed messages between all Geto’s different battalions throughout Hell. While her brother fought more offensively, assembling his most savage and strongest Curses to directly attack Jogo and Naoya within their own borders, Y/N was charged with defending their own lands. Their enemies could instantaneously appear in the hundreds – if not, tens of hundreds – across various locations.

For this reason, Sukuna’s ring of teleportation had been particularly invaluable for her defense.

It was eerie, almost as if the King of Hell had somehow predicted the war and their strategies. Y/N had been reluctant to even put the ring on, but as soon as she did, sliding it on the exact same finger as Toji wore his, it had shrunk and hugged to the exact size of her finger. She told herself it was a necessity, as there was no way she would have worn it otherwise. Y/N often wondered what Sukuna thought of all this, if he even cared that his Curses were busy slaughtering each other instead of the seraphim. But this wasn’t the first war of Hell, and she guessed that if he hadn’t intervened previously, then it was unlikely he would care now.

Despite when Geto had claimed, even challenged, that this would be the most bloody and violent war that Hell had ever seen.

Y/N often found herself lost in thoughts of what might have been. Amidst the seemingly endless time loop of a fight, her body moved with pure instinct in the dance of death. She didn’t need to use her mind to fight, and so it often wandered to a future that didn’t exist – one where she had become Gojo’s wife, fighting alongside him against the Curses she now fought beside. That would have been a holy and noble war, enacting God’s justice against those that turned against his light. Sometimes, Y/N glanced at her fellow soldiers, and wondered if she would have been forced to kill them in a world where she remained an Angel. A world where Satoru loved her, and she returned it equally. So strong was her daydream that her old soul almost took over, and time seemed to slow as her blade hovered dangerously close to her own soldier’s neck.

Until its maw opened unnaturally wide, and its razor-sharp teeth buried into an enemy Curse’s head. Y/N pulled back sharply, her mind and soul snapping back place as her body recoiled.

How had she not noticed her foe approach her? She would have been deep within its clutches if not for her fellow Curse, whom she had almost contemplated killing.

She cracked her neck with an audible pop and rotated her wrists, feeling the tension release with each twist, and nodded at the Curse who had saved her. It stared at her expectantly like a lost child, haunting vulnerability in its eyes, pink flesh dangling in shredded ribbons between its stained fangs. In one swift motion, Y/N swung her katanas in her hands, and her companion startled out of their momentary trance, returning to the savage dance of the battle around them.

There was something so beautiful about that moment, but Y/N couldn’t place her finger on it.

She wanted to chase that feeling.

If this war was to be so vicious, then Y/N embrace it all and return it tenfold. She readied her body to dance as her soldiers rallied around, completely surrounding her. The notion might have once frightened her, but not anymore. There was nothing to fear, only death and the beautiful song of war.

And then, hellfire started to rain from the sky.

Jogo…

Now this, is what the end is supposed to look like.

“Y/N!”

Miguel’s familiar voice shouted from a distance, causing Y/N to swiftly turn in its direction. In an instant, he was next to her. “Y/N! Suda has just informed me; Geto has begun the siege on the Zenins!”

Her eyes narrowed. “So Jogo sends his soldiers here. He thinks we cannot fend him off with only half an army.”

She surveyed her own force, rapidly formulating strategies in her mind. It was unclear how many Jogo had sent to the border, but one of the Curses was definitely one of his higher-ups, judging by the hellfire. Y/N doubted Jogo himself had come, not yet anyways. Suddenly, a blast of fire erupted outside her circle as a droplet landed beside them, and a Curse screeched in agony.

“Find Curses to form a barrier above us,” Y/N said urgently, shielding her head as another bout of fire erupted near her. “We cannot defend ourselves with this.”

Miguel nodded, sweat beading on his forehead. “And you? Do you need more soldiers?”

She looked at the Curses surrounding her, their gnashing teeth and pounding legs thumping the ground, as if they were her hellhounds eager to be off their leash. Y/N shook her head. “No, these are all I need. Send more to protect the supply outposts. We cannot afford to lose another.”

Miguel nodded and disappeared, leaving Y/N to take charge. She roughly dragged a Curse from the circle closer to her, then placed a hand gently on its head, as if seeking to make amends. She whispered softly, her voice like a soothing prayer that she found Curses responded well to. "Go and find me the one responsible for the hellfire.”

The Curse blabbered nonsense, its cloven feet stomping into the dirt, before speeding off into the fray, barreling into enemies and swinging them into the air with reckless abandon. Y/N raised her katanas over her head and launched herself against their foes. Her soldiers followed closely behind, swept up in the fervor of her charge. Y/N was the relentless tide crashing against the shoreline, the herald of a catastrophic tsunami that would engulf them all.

It was some time before her hoofed Curse returned, it’s battered and bloodied form charging towards her. With a powerful thrust, it impaled into an enemy Curse that Y/N had suspended high into the air with her katanas. The Curse snarled and spat, but she knew to follow its lead. And through the maze of death and corpses it led her, a twisted beacon amidst the darkness and chaos.

Straight towards Jogo’s second in command.

Hanami.

For a split second, Y/N was gripped by sadness. Why had fate forced them to cross paths? Yet, it seemed inevitable; the two generals of the Kings must be the destined to confront each other. Why did God make such things come to pass? Hanami was innocent, a Curse born from the fear of Gods own nature that he himself had created. What was there truly to fear? Hanami embodied nature’s beauty as much as much as its cruelty. Thorns and vines coiled around Y/N’s soldiers, ruthlessly tearing them apart, but she couldn’t shake the memory of her fever dream. The voice that had condemned her to be scratched into pieces. Was it actually a vision from this very moment? Was Hanami to be the orchestrator of her demise, strumming the strings of her death like a harp?

Y/N thought it was what she deserved, to be killed by God’s nature from which she had turned her back.

Hanami seemed to finally notice her, releasing the soldiers entangled within her thorns and spreading out her arms as if welcoming Y/N home. She wanted to cry; both with homesickness and with the sickly sin she was about to commit. For she had no intention of dying, even if it was what she deserved. Yet, tears slipped from her eyes regardless.

“Why do you cry?”

It was Hanami’s voice in Y/N’s head, and it startled her. All the Curses around them had turned to fight each other, paving a makeshift pathway directly between the two of them.

“Do you cry for yourself? For your mate who shall surely grieve you?”

“No, I cry for you.”

“For me? You don’t know me.”

“And I never will, but I would have liked to.”

“I have been charged with your death, and I will not fail as Mahito did. If you must know me, then know this. I do not hate you, I only seek a world where my nature can thrive. You and your brother stand in the way of that.”

How cruel, God why must you do this to me – to her? She would have been a wonderful Angel.

“We should have been on the same side then, because I don’t hate you either.”

With that, they launched themselves at each other through the garden of thorns and ruby roses. Each step brought forth a flurry of petals, swirling around them like a tempest. Y/N's blades sliced through the flowers and roots, yet Hanami countered her with a strength and speed that seemed to match the blooming growth around them.

They collided in a chaotic tangle of petals and gleaming metal, the air thick with the sickening scent of blood and blossoms. The behemoth Curse’s vines and thorns twisted and writhed, entangling Y/N in a deadly embrace, and the ground beneath them trembled with the force of her strikes against the roots. The air crackled with raw energy, as victory remained shrouded in a misty cloud. Through their bond, Y/N felt Toji’s essence urging her on desperately, and she clenched her jaw in determination.

This would end, one way or the other.

-•-

She trudged through from the portal with a slight limp, dragging the full weight of Hanami’s body behind her.

Y/N hated how this was so undignified for Hanami. She deserved a proper burial, or at least a smiting, but Y/N had no more divine energy to spare for that, and Curses would never bury their enemies. This was the way it had to be done, what was expected of her. The village she had teleported to was one of the largest at the border, serving as Y/N’s base to travel between. As the Curses around her stared, taking in the lifeless body of Jogo’s general, they erupted into frantic joy. Y/N was too tired for it, too saddened by what she had done, to find any enjoyment in hearing chants and cheers of her name in reverence.

Her bones ached, and her eyes felt as dry as sand. Y/N knew she needed to sleep, but she could hardly bring herself to do it. Every time she closed her eyes, she was haunted by that nightmarish red color, and a phantom pain bloomed over her face where Mahito had touched her. To sleep felt like a death sentence now, and it was beyond infuriating that their enemies had stolen her very basic right to rest and sleep.

On top of that, Y/N missed Toji fiercely.

The exhausted part of Y/N wished she had taken him up on his offer, because then she would have been at peace and safe. But the rational part of her would never allow it, standing firmly in her resolve not to run away from this war. But still, Y/N felt as if their bond had shifted to something more… intense. It was as crippling as it was exhilarating.

Suda and Miguel were waiting for her outside an old stone house that once belonged to a local villager, but now served as her own personal quarters. Miguel looked exhausted, but still kept up his cool demeanor in front of Suda, whose eyes widened into saucers as she took in Hanami’s body.

Y/N finally stopped dragging the body and let go, and it thumped loudly as it hit the ground. “Bring her head to my brother,” she instructed, making it clear that she would not be maiming any corpses herself.

Suda grimaced further, lip curling in disgust. “Anything else?”

“Tell him not to worry about us, and to focus on the siege. Just let us know when he needs supplies so we can send a group to transport it quickly.”

Suda nodded and looked at Miguel for support, who began to drag Hanami away from Y/N. With a sigh, Y/N pushed open the door, stumbling through and hoping nobody saw her. Hanami’s thorns had cut through parts of her armor, creating deep welts that throbbed and bled. One of the vines had gripped Y/N’s ankle so tightly that it was a struggle to walk straight. She knew she needed to sleep; it would help heal her wounds, and probably her ankle. But the sheer amount of obsidian blood covering her body, red rose petals clinging to it like feathers in tar, was a reminder that sleep was out of reach.

Y/N knelt at the edge of the bed, clasping her hands together as her knees scraped harshly against the floor. Prayer kept her from falling asleep, and from staying awake, fearing an assassin lurking in the night. And in some strange way, she felt as if God was still listening, even all the way down in the depths of Hell.

“Dear God in Heaven,

I ask that you deliver me from this darkness.

Help me cleanse this sin, and bring forth light an-”

“What are you doing?”

She’d never sprung into action so fast in her life. Her body acted on pure instinct, all speed and rage as she crashed directly into the bulky form of the stranger in her room. It was unnerving, frightening, that Y/N hadn’t heard anything approaching her, especially after swearing to herself that nothing was going to sneak up on her again. Her attacker grunted in surprise, and they wrestled for just a moment until Y/N registered Toji’s bright green eyes and familiar shaggy black locks. She had him pinned to the floor, her forearm pressing deep into his neck, and her dagger delicately close to his temple. He was breathing hard, nostrils flared in alarm, and tense.

“It’s me,” Toji whispered, with just a hint of panic in his eyes. “It’s just me.”

Y/N groaned, her head hanging low as her heart pounded, as if it took great effort for the muscle to pump anymore adrenaline through her veins. “I-uh, sorry.”

He tentatively rubbed her arm, the metal still pressing uncomfortably hard into his neck. “S’ok, you want to let go now?”

She awkwardly rushed to get off of him, and extended her hand for Toji to take. He accepted it and pulled himself up, his intense gaze weighing and sizing her up.

“When’s the last time you slept?” he asked gently, still hesitant, as if she was going to attack him for the slightest thing.

“Tch! It doesn’t matter,” Y/N muttered, moving over to the edge of the bed and sitting in a slump.

“It matters,” Toji started, and she could feel the beginning of a lecture coming on. “When you can’t even hear someone approach you. Why don’t you just sleep?”

“You know why. Just leave it.”

He moved over towards her, sitting beside her, his spread knees touching hers. “You still pray,” he stated, more of an observation than a question.

“Yes,” Y/N replied, the exhaustion creeping back into her voice as the adrenaline left her body. “It helps. It keeps me awake and stops me from thinking.”

“About?”

Flashes of pain.

Burning blood and bones.

Foggy visions of something seen long ago, but never to be remembered.

Y/N cracked her neck suddenly, feeling her bones crunching. “Mahito, I suppose. And Geto fighting so far away.” Toji hummed, and she suddenly felt quite nervous. “You’re not going to… judge me for this, are you?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “For praying?”

“Yes.”

“It’s something you do alone, and if it helps, then why stop? It has nothing to do with me, so I’m not going to judge.”

For some bizarre reason, the anxiety and tension she had been holding in her chest dissipated, and Y/N sniffed as she wiped her nose.

“Thank you,” Y/N whispered, voice cracking.

Toji looked at her strangely and said in a low rumble. “There’s no need for that. I told you before that I don’t care about Fallen or Angel customs.” He looked away shyly and added, “I just want you to be well.”

She blew out a deep breath and slumped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I will be when this war is over.”

He slowly joined her, their shoulders and knees touching. “And how’s it going? I heard Geto has started a siege on my old home.”

“Oh, yes he has. Mei-Mei?”

“Her crows are everywhere.”

“Even here?”

“Especially here.”

“If you want to see me, then you should just do that. No need to spy, Toji.”

“I’m not spying, just… keeping an eye on you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Toji looked over and gave her a pointed look. “Of course I do.” He looked back at the ceiling and huffed quietly. “Stupid thing to say.”

Y/N snorted, perhaps due to her exhaustion, but also partly due to a giddy nervous part of her soul that came out when Toji was around. She couldn’t help herself, and erupted into a fit of giggles. He looked over at her in amusement, and chuckled lowly along with her. They eventually settled into a comfortable silence, with her head slightly tilted towards Toji’s. Suddenly, he took her hand in his, observing her bloodstained nails and thorn cuts.

Displeasure…

“I killed Hanami,” Y/N confessed, as if bursting forth a deep secret she couldn’t withhold anymore.

Toji nodded, his fingers tracing the lines of her hands. “Good. It will take Jogo some time to re-organize his forces.”

She hummed, quiet tears spilling from her eyes onto her cheeks. “I suppose so, yes.”

He looked at her with concern deep in his emerald orbs, and gripped her hand tighter. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I just… really didn’t want to kill her.”

“Why’s that?”

Y/N didn’t really know herself, and so it took her some time before she could finally come up with somewhat of an answer. “She was part of nature. It felt like killing an Angel.”

Toji was moving each of her fingers back and forth. “Hanami was no seraph. You should have heard the things she’s done to Angels.”

“I’m sure it’s not much different to what Angels have done to us.”

“Do you not think you could do it, then? If you ascended and came across a seraph.”

No.

Y/N didn’t need to say it aloud; Toji knew her answer from her soul speaking volumes through the bond. They lay together in hushed stillness, interrupted only by Toji curling her fingers into a closed fist. His hand covered hers, offering silent reassurance.

“You need to sleep,” he finally said gently.

“I know, but I can’t.”

“I’ll stay with you, then.”

“Won’t you get tired?”

“Pft! No.”

“Toji, are you sure?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty head about it. Just sleep, nothin’ll get past me.”

Y/N smiled softly at him, and moved up higher onto the bed, not caring about dirtying the sheets with the stains of battle. Toji stood and pulled over a chair closer to the bed, spreading his legs out and crossing his arms. The flickering candlelight cast a shadow on his chiseled features, adding to his alluring enigma, and she wanted to keep discovering everything about him. His gaze darkened, and she knew that he could sense her desire trickling into the bond like a gentle rain.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Y/N huffed, burying her face into her pillow.

“Like what? I’m supposed to be watching you.”

“Yeah, but not like that.”

“What do you want me to do, stare at the ceiling?”

“No…”

Y/N heard the chair scrape even closer to the bed, and she peeked out from the pillow to see Toji resting his upper body on the bed while still remaining seated on the chair. He nestled his head on his crossed arms, alarmingly close to her face, and closed his eyes.

“Better?” he quipped.

“Mhm.”

“Good, now sleep.”

-•-

Toji’s hair was the first thing Y/N saw when she woke.

The top of his head was directly in front of her, black curtains spilling onto the bed. His arm extended out, as reaching out to try and touch her. He seemed like he was asleep, but Y/N knew he probably wasn’t. This was the most peaceful she had ever seen Toji look, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t find him alluring. She reached over and softly stroked his hair, and Toji groaned softly.

“You slept well,” he grunted, pushing his head closer to her and leaning into her touch.

Y/N hummed, twirling strands of his hair between her fingers. He moved his head, resting his chin on his arms, green eyes trained watching her toy with his hair.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“You’re beautiful,” Toji remarked, a smirk playing on his lips. She smiled widely, humming again, but more shyly. He took her hand that was playing with his hair and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, igniting a wildfire deep within her.

More…

His green eyes blazed with emerald flames, and he pressed featherlight kisses along each of her fingers. Her breath hitched; nothing else in the world felt real anymore, except the sensation of his lips on her skin.

One.

Two.

“Did you dream of anything?” Toji rumbled, rubbing his cheek into Y/N’s fingers.

Three, four…

She shook her head, looking at him with eyes wide and pupils blown. “No, nothing at all.”

Five.

He moved to her other hand, and Y/N wondered just how far she would let him take her.

One, two.

“So, you want me to stay with you every night?”

Three.

“You couldn’t do that.”

“That’s not what I asked. I asked if you wanted me to.”

Four.

“Of course I do, bu-.”

“Shh! Then that’s what I’ll do.”

Five.

His hands enveloped hers, rubbing them tenderly.

“Toji!”

“What?”

“Toji, you can’t do this every night! And I don’t expect you to either.”

“Y/N, if it means you’re safe and sleeping well, then I’ll do it.”

“But your people need you more than I do.”

“Fucks s-, why won’t you let me help? You won’t stay with me, so why can’t I stay with you?”

Y/N cupped Toji’s face, her thumb stroking his cheek. She craved him; he made her pliable, like clay in a sculptors hands. In that moment, she wanted to give him everything he wanted. There was nobody else more willing to help her pass the time in the night. Who else could say they could fight off her nightmares with his bare hands? Toji was made of smoke and steel, breaking through and sliding between every crack and crevice inside her.

“I want you to, but we can’t indulge this,” she whispered, her tingling lips almost unable to speak. “Not now, not until the war is over.”

Toji groaned with exasperation and fell silent. Y/N could feel him thinking hard, and she indulged in his distraction, exploring his face with the pads of her fingers. She traced his furrowed brows, smoothing them out, moving on to the strong bridge of his nose and his smoky lashes.

“What’s the point of praying?” Toji asked suddenly. “How do you know God even listens?

Y/N’s finger froze, just as she was about to trace the scar on his lip. “It’s just what faith is. There’s something that happens when you pray. You can feel God’s presence watching and listening.”

“So, you can still feel it? Even here?”

“Not anymore, but I think he’s still able to listen. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, I like to know how you think. I want to know what you expect from me, because I don’t really understand your… customs.”

Toji stood up, almost reluctantly, and Y/N’s inner voice cried out as he untangled their souls from their intimate moment. “Where are you going?” she whispered, urgency lacing her words.

“I’ll be back here tonight. Wait for me,” he replied, stroking her cheek before disappearing.

Later that night, true to his word, Toji was there waiting for Y/N, but he wasn’t alone. He was with a with a girl, her shaggy cropped hair framing her face, with a thousand and one angry scars crisscrossing every bit of her skin. There was an undeniable connection between her and Toji; their auras mirrored each other, as if they were cut from the same cloth, made of the same blood and flesh.

Y/N hesitated slightly but approached them nonetheless, regaining an air of authority as she walked. Today’s battle had gone awry; Jogo’s soldiers had overwhelmed them completely at a supply outpost. It took both Miguel and Larue to drag her away from the fight, so strong was her desperation to defend their resources. Now, she was left drained and filled with dread, knowing that Geto’s army, as well as her own, had lost even more supplies for their war.

I’m sorry, brother. I will do better.

Concern…

Y/N shook her head at Toji, hoping he understood that now was not the time or place to discuss her feelings. He frowned, seemingly conceding, and introduced the girl beside him. “Y/N, this is Maki Zenin.”

She raised an eyebrow at Maki, though not entirely surprised at the revelation of her relation to Toji. “Zenin?”

“Not anymore,” the girl interjected, her tone a touch sour. “Just call me Maki.”

“I see,” Y/N replied flatly, unimpressed with Maki’s tone, and turned her gaze back to Toji. “And why exactly is Maki here?”

“She left the Zenins and joined my court,” Toji answered, looking at Maki with reserved interest. “But I think she would be able to help you win this war.”

“Is that so?” Y/N sized Maki up, assessing her from head to toe. “Why did you leave the Zenins?”

Maki’s demeanor seemed to shatter and harden instantaneously, her voice strained as she muttered through gritted teeth. “They murdered my sister.”

“And you want to join us because you want revenge? This war isn’t your emotional playground.”

“It’s not, no. And I don’t want to join Geto, just you. Fushiguro is the only family I have left, family that I’ve chosen, and you’re his mate. That makes you my family too, and no more of my family is going to be murdered.”

Y/N’s resolve softened, and she glanced at Toji, who regarded Maki with just a slight hint of pride. He turned to her, and said lowly. “She’s not like them. I trust her to fight alongside you and watch over you when I can’t.”

She clicked her tongue in thought and nodded. What was there really to lose? If Toji trusted her, then Y/N would too. “Fine then, Maki. You can join us.”

Relief…

“Maki, give us a moment,” Toji said, and the girl nodded before walking off into the hustle of the barracks.

“You didn’t think I’d let her stay?” Y/N questioned, her gaze following Maki as she was stopped by Larue, who immediately seemed to be trying to provoke her.

He sighed and stood beside her. “I didn’t think you’d let just anybody get that close to you.”

Y/N hummed. “She doesn’t seem like just anyone if you let her stay with you.”

Toji’s eyes darkened, and he muttered. “I know how it feels to be chewed and spat back out by that family.”

Larue poked Maki’s scarred arm, and she swiftly had him pinned to the ground in a headlock. A group of Curses gathered round, egging on the confrontation, their appetite for violence and bloodshed insatiable. This was the brutal hierarchy of their world, where strength was the only clear language understood. Maki could either overcome it, or crumble. Y/N expected her to survive, otherwise Toji’s plan would have failed before it even began.

“She’s fast,” she commented, and Toji nodded.

“Maki’s like me, nearly fights exactly the same. Through her, I may as well be fighting this war with you.” He nudged her gently, his gaze softening. “What happened today?”

Y/N sighed, pinching her nose. “We don’t have the numbers to defend ourselves and our supplies. We’ve lost too many resources already, and Geto needs all the help he can get to wage out the siege.”

She knew that Toji wasn’t going to offer aid. Doing so would risk openly aligning his kingdom with theirs, and subjecting his people to the wrath of two layers. It would plunge nearly all of Hell into chaos, and subject his people to the same suffering that Geto faced.

Nearly all of Hell.

But not all…

“What will you do, then?”

As Maki brought her clenched fist straight into Larue’s throat, the beginning of an idea started to form in Y/N’s head. Toji chuckled beside her, the ghost of his hand next to hers, as he watched his younger cousin establish her dominance. Though he may not have realized it yet, by bringing her to Y/N, Maki’s willingness to switch allegiance opened up new possibilities.

“I think I might go and visit someone.”

-•-

taglist:

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@justmarlen3 @pinknipszz @moonwingeys @luzzbuzz @hornabbyyy

@mitsuyasblackwifey @chosolover736 @spookyjyestha @elisqq @sillyrings978

@littlekittensoftpaws93 @starryluv4 @99k4manii @maid4nanno @limerence08

@iloveitwhentheyrunnn @kamoslut @rubyrose2014 @hannah5max @transparent-nature

@katsvgou

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mishwanders · 7 months

Note

Omg hi i see your request are open 😶‍🌫️ I have been lurking in your blog for awhile and I will say 10/10 writing 💥💥

Anyway, I love fierce deity with all my heart. I want to kiss his face and everything 🤩

Anyway here is the request: reader is a traveling merchant and came a across cool looking mask( fierce deity) and reader is like :000 and took the mask with them and was planning to sell it. But realized there was a deity sealed in it after hearing his voice in their head and they were like "OH SHIT" and decided not to sell the mask.

Then they began to talk to each other when reader is traveling and their friendship blooms and soon romance but reader doesn't know how to get him out until they were attacked by monsters and got fierce to come out of his mask and meet reader in person(BOOM they kiss and got married 😎😎)

Fierce deity fierce deity FIERCE DEITY-

So what you’re saying is, Fierce Deity is going to mess with the reader and be the equivalent of a haunted doll? Yes, I love this idea!

A/N+Warnings: N/A, safe for everyone. Written by Mishwanders - pls do not repost.

When you first came across the strange mask in the middle of the road, you thought nothing of it. There was nothing suspicious - it was just a plain, old, wooden mask with blue and red markings, complete with wooden white hair (totally normal - nothing to worry about), and it didn’t look so bad in its current state! You felt like you hit the lottery, the jackpot, you could see rupees whirling through your eyes like a slot machine. A little paint and it would look good as new! A perfect item to add to the bag!

However, you weren’t expecting to be so, uh, how do I put this… Haunted?

Yeah, haunted was the best word you could conjure to describe the damned thing. From the moment it was in your grasp, something felt off. Your pack felt hundreds of times heavier than it was, there were random creaks and bumps in the nights, small whispers, and of course the fact that the mask had a tendency to move on it’s own - like the one night you woke up and found that it SOMEHOW MADE ITS WAY ON YOUR PILLOW WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING!

To say you freaked out would be an understatement considering how fast you chucked it up against the wall with a shout, springing from your bed with your bedside ax (because that’s a totally normal thing to have) and mini statue of the goddess Hylia, ready to open a can of holy whoopass on the mere slab of wood.

At least, that’s what you were planning to do until you heard the deep, pained groan of a man and a burst of hot, white light emanating from the portion of the mask that split in half.

“Little one, why must you hurt me so?”

You held the mini statue of Hylia in front of you, visibly shaking like a chihuahua at the sound of the voice. The goddess would protect you from this foul beast.

Right?

“What in Hylia’s name are you?!” You screeched.

Its lips didn’t move but you heard it scoff, seemingly noticing your state of being.“Trying to get my sister to fight me?”

Huh? Sister?

Well that was a first.

“I - uh - well, you know - you’re - well...”

“A mask.” He stated, rather nonchalantly.

You huffed, processing to pick up the mask, still holding Hylia in front of you for fear of the mouth actually moving and biting your fingers off (or something much worse). You interrogated the mask for what felt like hours, when truly it was only ten minutes or so,before you got the answers you were looking for. The beast trapped inside was not a beast at all, but rather a deity lost to time itself, one that craved to be free of his prison.

A part of you considered calling a poexorcist but truly you didn’t even know if they even had the qualifications for poexorcizing a deity and you also didn’t know how he would take to that - so, eh, better not go that route.

Instead, you decided to take a chance to travel to see a man who was well versed in masks and the types that were out there. He wasn’t a salesman, more of a collector. The deity seemed fine enough with that idea, so you made a plan to visit your friend soon with your new, ever watchful item.

You quickly became close friends with the deity inside, finding him to be rather good company in the quiet of your home and the loneliness of the road. There was a part of you that wondered if he enjoyed your companionship too, having been forever locked away inside of this old piece of wood for goddesses knows how long.

However, this constant companionship made you realize what you had been missing in your life, and you found yourself sitting on the edge of indecision. On one hand, you wanted him free, so he could live out his life the way he saw fit, but on the other hand, you enjoyed having him with you, his mask always at arms reach, tucked safely at your side in bed or on your back pack on the road. You realized that if he did get his freedom, and he decided to leave, you would be left completely and utterly alone again, crumbling under the weight of the silence that would surround you again.

You had considered discussing the possibility of going with him, being his companion who could conjure up some money by selling your wares, but that conclusion came at the utmost worst of times.

As if they had fallen from the sky, you’d found yourself surrounded by moblins on all sides who were quickly encroaching upon you and your bag of valuables. One of them nabbed the mask away from your backpack, which led to you fighting for it back. It was the most improper game of tug-o-war ever, and especially not one without consequences. You yanked the mask free from the moblins grimy hands and you did so with such force that the mask went flying into the air, cracking in half on impact against the stone in the road. That’s when you were all blinded by the intense white light that filled each of your vision, feeling a massive wave of energy and rage pulsating through it. When it all died down, you found yourself no longer surrounded by the greedy little moblins and instead, face to face with the being behind the mask.

The Fierce Deity himself.

To his surprise, you did not cower in fear at the mere sight of him, rather looking up at him in awe filled curious wonder. He knelt down to you, cupping your face in his large hands as he looked you over and asked, “Are you hurt, little one?”

You shook your head in reply, still looking at him in awe. His face looked similar to the mask he was trapped in, but the lines on his face connected somewhere on his body and trailed under his tunic. You gently raised your hand up to touch him, feeling the warmth and softness of his features no longer hidden behind the wooden surface. “I’m alright, Fierce. Thank you.”

His gaze softened at your voice, relaxing now that he knew you were unharmed under his watch. You looked around at the quiet road. “Well, now that you’re out of the mask, I don’t suppose we need to go see my old friend any more. Is there anywhere specific you would like to go?”

The Fierce Deity gave you a soft smile. “Anywhere. So long as you’re there.”

Your heart swelled as he spoke, your hand gently gripping onto his. “You mean that? You still want me along even though you’re free?”

“What’s freedom if I have no one to share it with?” He asked, gently taking your hand in his.

You smiled up at him, practically beaming as you kissed his cheek.

“I suppose you’re right. Let’s go. Together!”

#fierce deity x reader #fierce deity #fierce deity link #lu fierce deity #lu fierce deity x reader #linked universe x reader #linked universe #loz x reader #sfe #writing: fierce deity

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muldermuse · 8 months

Text

The Most Haunted Forest in South Carolina: Fox Mulder X Reader

This was a request from an ask!!! I posted a snippet here

If u have Fox thoughts pls send them to me <333 u all

The walk to the camp site was longer and way more miserable than it really should have been. You kept cursing Fox for getting you out here but really it was your own fault. Scully was unable to make it so Fox needed a partner to camp out in ‘The Most Haunted Forest in South Carolina’.

“It sounds like a corny line from a postcard. Have you seen any statistics to back it up?” You responded when Fox had told you over your weekly coffees out of the office.

“We have over two hundred witnesses who all claim to have seen something ‘otherworldly’ within a 4 week period. All seem to be legitimate, Skinner thinks it’s a waste of time so I have to go” He smirked as he brushed the powdered sugar from his donut onto the floor. “Besides, I haven’t been camping for a while and Scully is unavailable so I need a partner…”. He gave you the sweetest smile he could muster.

“I hate camping, I don’t really like the outdoors and I’m an awful hiker” You retorted; trying desperately not to be won over by his grin.

“It’s only one night, we’ll be near civilisation for the most part and so am I! We’ll be in it together and we can make s’mores. The weather is meant to be good and y’know…it’d be nice to spend some time together…in a spooky forest”. His cheeks went pink with nerves and despite how much you hated the idea of being in a tent, you wanted to be with him too.

You and Fox had been spending more time together recently. You’d started as friends until a bad break up left you struggling. Fox had been there throughout your darkest days and over the past few months you’d developed feelings for him. You’d go out for coffees once a week and have a takeout night every weekend. The closest you’d ever been was a prolonged hug as you sobbed into Fox’s work shirt and a drunken kiss on the cheek. You were desperate to spend time with him so you told yourself that this was the perfect opportunity.

***

The weather was awful and it had been from the moment you’d left the car. Initially, you’d hiked in silence. You knew Fox felt slightly guilty about how wrong the weather forecast had been and you felt grumpy. Your hiking shoes weren’t sitting right, your bag felt like it was full of bricks and the rain was relentless. Fox would occasionally look back and smile at you but after the first half dozen had not been reciprocated; he thought maybe you weren’t in the smiling mood.

As the rain started to ease up; so did your mood. You enjoyed seeing Fox in this completely new environment, he pointed out every tree that looked stupidly large and would occasionally point at leafs, asking if you thought they looked ‘super poisonous’. When the terrain got rocky, he’d immediately hold your hand to steady you and then stay holding it for a while. Both of you enjoying the intimacy of the moment and the intimacy of the forest, it seemed like for the first time since knowing him; it was just you and him. The forest was huge and yet it was just the two of you, talking idly and holding hands. Very quickly it stopped feeling miserable and started to feel romantic. You’d keep your hands intertwined as you’d rub your thumb against his and without thinking, he’d return the gesture.

***

You both decided to have a fast lunch so you could make it to the campsite quicker. You shared a thermos of coffee as well as your sandwiches and bags of chips with each other.

“Did you put brown sugar in this coffee Mulder?” He nodded as he bit into his apple, seemingly distracted by a bird flying overhead.

“You hate sugar in coffee.”

“Yeah but you like it...I know your coffee order like the back of my hand. You’re doing me a huge favour by doing this so I wanted everything to be okay for you. I mean you’ve come to the most haunted forest in South Carolina with me, the least I could do is make you a damn good coffee.”

Your entire body warmed as you sipped your drink. The way his eyes studied your face made your body glow. You realised that this could be the best time to tell him your feelings, you’d been avoiding doing it for the past few months as you told yourself that the moment didn’t feel right. This was it, the perfect time to tell Fox about the butterflies fluttering in your stomach every time you saw him but before you could open your mouth. He brushed his hands together and stood up, packing everything up into his backpack and telling you that you needed to make it to the campsite before it got any darker.

Without words, his hand reached out for yours and you held hands the entire way to the campsite.

***

Fox insisted on putting up the tent, placing you in charge of finding dry wood for the campfire and looking for any signs of something that may be ‘otherworldly’. There was nothing to report back, maybe a few more squirrels than you expected but definitely nothing worthy of an X File. He had finished putting the tent up by the time you got back; your arms laden with wood ready to create the fire. You informed him of your findings as you set the fire together.

“How many squirrels did you see in total?”

“Fox, I didn’t count, there was just a lot. Like more than I’ve seen in one location before, maybe about 25ish?”

The flames illuminated his face as he smirked at your response. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silver flask, he grimaced as he took a sip and handed it to you.

“If the fire doesn’t warm you up, try this rum” You sipped it and tried your hardest not to pull a disgusted face at the burn of the liquor going down your throat. That was how the rest of the evening was spent, the stars lit the sky as you talked by the fire and passed the flask between you. You talked about everything, from big moments in your life to your favourite films. The effect of the rum and Fox’s lingering eyes warmed your body as you rested your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes as you listened to him talk about a book he had just finished. His arm found it’s way around your waist and he held you tightly against him. The silence was comfortable and you opened your eyes to find him smiling at you.

“I think we should head to the tent, you’re absolutely freezing” He helped you stand up as you smiled at him hazily. It seemed to have gotten incredibly cold out of nowhere and you knew the cogs in Fox’s head would be spinning thinking about how this could be a sign of a paranormal presence.

In the tent, your sleeping bags were laid close but with a space in between. Fox had brought blankets which you hoped would keep you warm through the night. “I’ll-uhm- wait outside whilst you get changed” He smiled nervously as he left the tent, you were far too cold to take anything off so you put on another pair of socks, joggers and the hoodie Fox had left at your place. You got into your sleeping bag and shouted to Fox that he could come back in. Whilst outside he’d done the same as you, apparently putting on every item of clothing he had in his bag to retain some body heat.

“Anything spooky out there?” you asked as he climbed into his sleeping bag; turning on his side to face you.

“Unfortunately nothing, I’m sorry to have brought you out here. I’m sure there’s better ways you could spend your weekend, rather than freezing in a forest with me for company”

In all the time you had known Fox Mulder, you had never seen him look unsure of himself. He held himself with such confidence and pride that the current expression on his face was completely new to you. He looked nervous as if he felt guilty for bringing you here. Without giving it much thought, you scooted your sleeping bag over to him so you could look him in the eye.

“I’ll forgive you if you help me warm up” he smiled at you as you rested your head on his chest and he placed a blanket over the two of you. The warmth from his body and the steady rise and fall of his breathing began to lull you close to sleep. You felt Fox’s hand trail up and down your back and you realised it was the perfect time to tell him.

“I have feelings for you Fox, like I like you and you make me happy. I’ve wanted to tell you earlier but the timing didn’t feel right; but now it does” His hand suddenly stopped moving and you felt your heart shatter. Before you could mumble an apology and scoot away from him, he moved his hand to tilt your head up and kissed you. The kiss was gentle, soft and at that moment there was nothing else in the world apart from you two.

He kept his hand on your chin and looked at you as he stated, “I’m in love with you and I promise I was going to tell you. I was going to take you out for dinner tomorrow as a thank you and tell you then”.

Your body was overcome with warmth and you felt each of your muscles relax as the meaning of his words began to sink in. “This is the perfect way to tell me, you know, in the Most Haunted Forest in South Carolina”.

You placed your head back on his chest as it rumbled with a laugh, “so you admit, this Forest is haunted?”

Your eyes closed as the need for sleep seemed to creep over you, “I think love makes you say stupid things”.

#fox mulder #the x files #fox mulder fanfic #fox mulder imagine #fox mulder x reader #the x files fluff #the x files fanfic #fox mulder fluff #the x files fanfiction #david duchovny #txf fluff #txf #agent mulder fluff #agent mulder #agent fox mulder #agent mulder x reader

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diamondcitydarlin · 9 months

Text

idk I guess it's an unpopular opinion (tho again maybe not because I feel like for as much as that was a TRAGIC cliffhanger we're all kinda like...into it, right? lmaooo) but I feel like the break-up was a long time coming and needed to happen in order for them to progress the relationship forward. Of course I love post season one fics where they're already a couple after failed armageddon and everything's perfect and fine and that's kind of what I just entertained until I knew more of the story was going to be told because IN THAT CASE!!

I guess it's been said already, but I've always felt like for as close as they were at the end of season one and for as much as it seems like they've carved out a niche for themselves that works, there's something about it that has always felt sort of tenuous for me, and I feel like it's manifested in times that I've written them in post season one, either solo or in RP with a friend. Sometimes it's heaven/hell not being done with them and only pretending to stand back while thinking of a way to get them, but often it's that plus their own sense of loyalty to themselves or outer entities, etc.

As season 2 establishes and as I always kind of suspected, Aziraphale has never really 'given up' on heaven, perhaps not aided by the fact that I don't think Crowley ever gave him specific details of what went on during his trial. The tribulations of the first act of the story don't really destroy Aziraphale's confidence in what he's always believed to be true, it just leads him to think the wrong people have been in charge, still leaving him with this sense of 'this = good' and 'this = bad' and, well...Crowley is still a demon.

Now, of course, Crowley usually falls into a rationalized category of 'Not Like Other Demons' for Aziraphale and most of the time that's fine, but when push comes to shove it turns into a bigger, more divisive issue than anything they can ignore because, ultimately, Az thinks everything will be fine once they're both on the same side of 'good'. Once Crowley is as he used to be. Because surely that's what he REALLY wants as well?? WHO WOULDN'T WANT TO BE AN ANGEL??

And in that way, Crowley has his own sense of loyalty that clashes with Aziraphale's, but I think it's really a loyalty to himself. I don't mean that in a derogatory way at all. I don't mean to imply that he really IS selfish and evil. I mean to say that Crowley has accepted who and what he is, that for as much as God's forsaking of him still haunts his sense of self, he accepts his fate with lurid enthusiasm. Unforgivable, that's what he is. Fine! Because if earning god or heaven's love means being other than what he really truly is and wants to be, then it means nothing and also fuck them.

In that way though, Aziraphale is also 'not like other angels' for Crowley, because there's this sort of understanding that he either doesn't care or accepts him anyway and honestly I think the reason Crowley avoids talking about that for so long is because he doesn't really want to know which it is. But then he finds out, because circumstances have forced them to. And I notice that while he is devastated, he doesn't seem surprised. Sort of like Crowley always knew they were going to have to face this crossroads eventually and knew what Aziraphale was going to choose.

I can't really fault either of them for making their respective choices. If anything, my admiration for Crowley's character has increased a hundred fold and I was already partial to him lmao. It's not easy to choose yourself and your own self-preservation and the truth of who you are over anything else, over the threat of really, truly being alone, but...he does, and I think there's a takeaway in that. And I get where Aziraphale is coming from too, even for how painful and seemingly selfish it is (but I don't think it is, not in intention anyway).

idk this became a ramble but I feel like it all makes sense and is crucial to really exploring what that love between them could truly be in the end.

#ineffable husbands #good omens spoiler #good omens spoilers #ya idk i just felt like it would happen regardless #and im glad it did tbh

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leggerefiore · 2 years

Text

Deuses Vulpes

cw: 18+ content, afab reader, fox god au, mentions of injury and harm, implied poly but not really

Words: 3782

Summary: An injured Zoroark is treated kindly by a human after being attacked by other humans. The Zoroark is actually a folk god who grows close with the human over time.

Perhaps, it was hundreds of years ago to the date.

On a rainy evening where clouds flooded the sky and the darkness overtook the isolated wood that a certain white fox fled into, a person of grave importance took notice and followed.

Humans disliked the foxes, their mischievous nature and ability to create illusions putting them at ends with each other. That was where Kudari, a still young fox god, found himself. Kudari being the name given to him by his sparse worshippers. In horrible, plain distress he had been separated from his twin brother, Nobori, while hunting for food. They were of canid origin, naturally, so their food must be things to sought out for. Humans caught him in his beastly true form, with pure white fur that shifted to a grizzly crimson at its tips. More of it had since become dyed with the haunting red colour as he lay hidden in the brush. Rain pattered endlessly on the ground. He whimpered at his wounds.

When he was still a Zorua kit, his mother would take him under her pitch-black fur and work to clean out his wounds, but now he was an adult and on his own. There was no telling how long it would take for his brother to come searching for him. Instead, he laid and pondered if he would make it. Would he leave his dear twin to be alone in this world? Kudari grew to hate humans more and more. Why did they hurt him when he simply posed him no threat? His injuries stung as debris and rain found their way into them. He closed his eyes. Nobori would find him. He could rely on him.

You stepped carefully in the rain, your robes soaked and clinging to your body, as you travelled out for a certain mushroom that a friend claimed they had spotted out in the woods. Its lifespan was short, so you decided to search for it despite the unfortunate weather. The men in the nearby village seemed rowdier than usual, a strange cheer covering the place. You knew nothing about what could have caused it, as you were not a citizen of their village. A disgusting, sloppy sound was caused by each stride you made in wood. With all the trees abound, you thought that it would have made everything less wet. Each step you took carried you closer to the clearing that had been passed to you.

Yet, as you walked further, you felt the air feel thick and heavy with something not caused by the weather. It was frigid and haunting in nature. Deep within your bones, you felt the urge to turn back and return to your home. Whatever lied ahead carried terrifying malice and power. The want for those rare mushrooms prevented this, however. To make the medicine you needed, they were simply a requirement. You persisted despite everything demanded you not to do so.

Deeper, yet deeper, you continued as the scenery grew dim and distant from you. You were much too far from your home.

Then, you saw it.

A strange creature laying under brush in order to hide itself.

Blood covered its body in patches, wounds clearly inflicted with intent to give it a slow, painful death. You were terrified. All the malice remained stagnant here, its origin laying on the ground. You stood completely frozen, unsure of your next move. Truthfully, you knew it would be best if you left the beast alone to its fate. The villagers' previous joy likely having come from an attack on it, believing they had warded off a dangerous creature, but your heart felt pity. It was a living thing with thoughts and feelings, attacked solely because of how it looked. An internal debate gave way to you moving closer to the seemingly unconscious beast.

As you grew close enough to be an arm's length away, its eyes shot open, and its mouth pulled back into a snarl as a growl came from its throat. You could feel the malice attacking both you and it. Just like with the mushrooms, you were much too far into your decision to turn back. A careful hand came upon its head for a soft pet. The tenseness from its body faded from the slight affection. Suspicion was still heavy in its eyes, but you knew it was not going to attack you unless you provoked it. Helping it up, you had it lean onto your shoulder as you led it back to your home.

After you returned home, you worked to treat its wounds to the best of your admittedly lacking abilities. You washed at the slashes with water before applying salve. Bandages were carefully wrapped around them as you allowed the creature to rest in your bed. A stew boiled above your wood stove, which heated your home. After finally settling down, you realised just how cold the rain water had left you. The Zoroark must have been worse than you were, body covered in fur. At first, you had not recognised it as a Zoroark. Its colours and shape uncommon, but soon you realised all the features of it aligned perfectly. That was why they attacked it.

“… I'm sorry for what they did to you,” you spoke to the sleeping fox as you stirred your dinner, “I hope you're able to recover… I'm no healer.” It did not respond, nor did it move. You wondered if it knew it was somewhere safe, so it finally allowed itself to sleep properly.

You hoped so.

The next morning was sure to be a strange one, you knew.

Though, if prompted, you would admit the man sitting at your bedside was a bit unexpected. Especially with his high-quality robes and beautiful features. Soft, silver locks and matching coloured eyes… You were a bit entranced, admittedly. His smile was kind and appreciative as he bowed before you. Then, he stood back up to his full height.

“I am Lord Kudari, and I am a god,” he explained, “You saved my life and showed me kindness. I am not used to speaking as human's do. But, I wanted to thank you.”

A god? The villagers attacked a god? Fear travelled down your spine at the terrible realisation. You knew you should not worry for them, as they caused their own fate, but a certain fear for fellow man haunted your brain.

“I want to offer you a blessing in repayment,” he continued, “What would you like?”

You swallowed.

“I don't need anything, Lord Kudari,” you explained, “I simply wished to help something in need.”

The smile faded for a moment, before returning with more emotion.

You left an offering at the small shrine tucked away into the forest and around the base of the mountain. Distantly, you felt eyes on you from the brush. It was likely Zoroarks who guarded this shrine. The gods here were, after all, Zoroarks themselves. You prayed quietly for a moment before going to leave. There was not much you wanted, but being kind to the poor god you had found dishelved was important to you. Kudari, or rather Emmet as he demanded to be called by you, was a common visitor to your home. Despite its proximity to the villagers which had caused him such pain, your denial of his blessing led to him trying to find alternative ways to repay his percieved debt. Conversations were commonplace alongside him offering you pelts and meat from his hunts. You turned them down, as you knew he and his brother needed food more than you did.

He also brought along his brother, Nobori (or, as he had introduced himself, Ingo), to meet you. It was a bit distressing to see a man of clearly such high-standing fall and bow before you. His deep voice thanked you endlessly for helping his brother. You shook your head and said that everything was fine, that you were simply glad to have helped him. He relented at your words, rising from his bow and speaking normally. Of course, unlike Emmet who agreed to not bless you with anything, Ingo had to show his gratefulness in some fashion. Your garden thrived as you had never previously seen. Vegetables, herbs, and even some fruits grew large and nutritious. Only a gift from a fertility god could provide such a shift.

Which you knew Ingo was after curiously asking what they did as gods. Emmet held dominion in truth, vengeance, and guiding those lost back to where they needed to go. It was a strange mixture, but you supposed that Zoroarks really did not have that much variety in their choices for worship. Ingo worked in ideals, fertility, and guiding lost souls to their next place. You wondered how that worked. It would make more sense for the ghost-type to be the one working for the dead, but maybe it was simply more dangerous for him to handle that area. Still, you found yourself interested in their duties and day-to-day activities, and in wanting to show your appreciation for the kindness they returned to you, you became a regular visitor of their shrine.

“That is the wrong path,” a familiar voice called out to you. Emmet seemingly came from nowhere as he approached you from behind. “Let me guide you.” You laughed at his eagerness, but accepted his offer. The white fox took a place at your side as he walked through the scenic area with ease. Light patches shined through the leaves moved apart, so high above. A distant river near the shrine left a calming sound of running water, while birds flew around and chirped just out of sight. It had been a few months since you first met them. How close you had become with them felt odd, as you were previously so isolate from the village near you. Emmet hummed a bit as you wandered together. Autumn was already showing its cruel nature as a chill coursed your spine. Icy dew was now a common sight most days, and your garden had begun to wilt. When the snowy days finally fell, it would be more difficult to make the trek to their shrine.

“… I don't think I'll be able to visit as often in the winter,” you told the fox god, “I'm sorry…” Emmet gazed at you with his slit pupils before his lids lowered softly, and he cooed. Shaking his head, he grinned at you brightly. “Winter is my season, you know,” he offered, “I blend in more with the snow in my true form and most people become oddly crueller in those cold months. More calls for vengeance and death by people.” You were confused by his words. Why was he telling you this? “Heehee, that is to say that I will busier. Do not worry.” Oh… You felt oddly relieved.

Soon, you arrived at your home. Turning to him, you watched as he gently took your hand. “If you do visit… Ingo would definitely appreciate it,” Emmet suggested, “He enjoys your company more than I do. I think. It's verrrrry mean of him.” You laughed some more. Strangely, you hugged the younger twin before bidding him a farewell. He returned the affection sweetly.

Your visits in winter were sporadic, as you had expected, but spring brought easier travels. Emmet was correct, as Ingo had adored your visits. It was lonely for him whenever Emmet became too busy, and the same was true for Emmet whenever Ingo got busy. Both were each other's only company outside of you. Their worshippers were not usually looking to have a conversation with the gods, and they were too small to have a proper shrine that needed upkeep by a caretaker.

You had not expected such a change in the month and half you had spent away. They finally had a true temple. Standing outside of it, you wondered who built it this fast. Most homes took longer than the short break you had apart from them. You stepped up to it and jumped back when the door opened without warning. Emmet suddenly dragged you back inside. “Heehee, look! Brother and I worked hard to build a home, so it would be safer for you to stay the night,” he pointed out. You were stunned. Well, maybe they could build faster than humans (or foxes) could ever hope to. “… You did not have to do something like that,” you challenged. He shook his head.

“We wanted to. You're our dear friend.”

You swallowed a pretended you wanted nothing more than that.

It was foolish to believe you could attract a god's romantic attention.

You stepped inside the shrine on an autumn day, curious as to why Emmet had not visited you in a few days. The air was strangely thick and Ingo was nowhere to be found. Walking down the hall, you ended up at their quarters. You moved to open the door, but it slid open before you could. A flustered Emmet stood on the other side, eyes distant and unsteady. He grew a strange grin as he took your form in. You wondered if he was sick, judging by his condition. This was quickly disproven as you were tackled to the ground and pinned underneath him. Heat centred in your cheeks as you felt the hardness between his legs. He bit his lip and whimpered. “I'm in my rut,” he explained, “Call Ingo if you don't want it. My brain is verrrry foggy. I'm sorry, darling!” Emmet began to grind against you. Unconsciously, you parted your legs and let out a soft moan.

He called you something so affectionate, too…

“Emmet, I want it—I want you,” you whined, “Room, let's go into your room.” He scooped you up with unexpected ease and brought you into his room. The door was closed behind you both as he moved to drop you onto his bed. The futon was warm but a mess. Clearly, he had been tossing and turning in it before you had arrived. You let out a cry when his lips found your neck, sucking and kissing at it. His tongue licked a stripe up your flesh, causing you to grip the thin white robes that covered his body. Teeth suddenly bit down. Emmet pulled away when you let out a loud noise. He giggled and leaned to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Sorry! I just got curious about your taste,” he commented, “Your pheromones smell so wonderful that I got carried away.” You gave him a light glare, but supposed weird behaviour like that was going to be common with a Zoroark hybrid. Instead, you turned your focus to tugging his robes from him.

Your struggle did not go unnoticed by Emmtet, so he pulled away to shrug off his robes and toss them aside. Of course, since he was naked, it would only be fair for you to join him. His hands were quick to tug away at your own robes and leave you bare for his eyes to take in. A laugh had to be held back when his tailed swished back and forth at the sight. “You look verrrry hot,” he cooed, hands beginning to grope at your sides before moving down to your hips, “Mmm… I have liked you for a while.” You squeaked when he took a nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around. A finger unexpectedly pressed between your folds with a distraction amount of pressure. Pleasure bloomed in your body from his actions. You could only watch as he played with you. His finger circled your entrance for a moment before pushing inside of you. The wetness of his tongue split your mind into two as he continued his teasing of you.

You thought he was in rut. Shouldn't that mean his inhibitions were lowered? Maybe… Maybe, he was making sure you were ready for him. The fox delivering pleasure onto your body seemed different now, despite him pressing another finger into you. He scissored you open with unexpected skill, while his thumb found your clit and rolled it around a few times. Emmet pulled away from your nipple, gazing at you with pupils so dilated, there were barely any silver left visible. “You're verrrry cute, right now," he commented as your back arched when his fingers hit a sensitive spot within you, “I loooove you! I want to have you as my mate.” Blunt and to the point, Emmet was never one for complicated, delicate conversations. His thumb and fingers continued you, working you up until a heat began to build in your stomach. It got hotter and hotter until you came onto his hand.

He giggled and brought his soaked fingers into your mouth. Your face was burning while you watched him consume your juices. He hummed contentedly and pushed you against the mattress. “Nope! Can't hold back any more,” he whined, pressing his cock against you. For the first time, you saw it. Red and flustered, leaking with precome, and its base swelled something. You swallowed. Before you could say anything, his lips were on your own and sucking your tongue into his mouth. You tasted yourself and a distant alcohol in his mouth. This distracted you from him positioning himself at your entrance.

You cried when his length pushed inside of you, splitting you openly properly. He was so similar to a human's own, yet different in a way you failed to find the words for in your libido laden mind. As soon as he bottomed out, he pulled back to begin to fuck you proper. Your thoughts were pushed from your mind as he let out a soft groan into your mouth. You whined from the sudden roughness from him. He pounded into you like he had never taken anyone before. Was he a virgin? You had no idea. The conversation never came up, and now certainly was not the time to ask such questions. Pain from his claws came as they dug into your soft flesh around your hips. He pulled away from your kiss to moan loudly, sharp teeth revealed for put a moment. “You're verrrrrrry tight and warm,” he whined, “Better than I thought… You're so sweet-”

The sounds of slapping flesh were loud in your ears as he continued to take you in the supposed holy place of his shrine. Irony was lost on you, however, as you solely wanted to focus on the feeling of his dick stretching you open. His teeth found your neck again as he bit down a few times more, leaving marks and a bit of blood in its wake. The odd mixture of pleasure and pain tormented you. You felt close, but he seemed to know just when you were about to and slowed himself down. Why was he being so mean? You just wanted to come. “Emmeeeeet,” you wept, “Let me come.”

“Mmm, am I Emmet?” he teased, eyes glowing.

For a guy overcome with pleasure, you were surprised he was so chatty and demanding. “Lord Kudari,” you tried, “Please!” He hummed. You felt like he was going to mess with you more, but instead he brought a hand down to play with your clit, while another came to do the same with a nipple. Emmet fucked into you harder and rougher, knot beginning to swell impossibly large. His cock began to target your cervix as he let out a strange noise close to growl. You felt yourself finally at the edge again and with a last thrust into you, you came. Emmet cried out from the feeling of your walls milking his cock. While you lost yourself in pleasure, he humped into you a few more times before pushing himself deep inside you. His knot swelled large enough to prevent him from pulling, and he came. Hot heat flooded inside of you as he bit the nape of your neck hard. You whined at the feeling, but ultimately found yourself more tired than anything.

Soon, you both crashed against the futon. Emmet shifted you both onto your side and wrapped his arms around you tightly. You sighed at the strange warmth he provided. His tail covered your lower half, too. Before you could finally drift off, there were a few words you wished to speak,

“I love you, too, Emmet.”

You swept the shrine grounds tirelessly, trying to remove the endless number of leaves the continued to escape the numerous trees in the area. Having become the shrine's caretaker was a task you would occasionally debate the worth of, but you enjoyed the proximity it provided to the fox gods. You watched as Emmet watched a Zoroark pray to him. He was hidden from the eyes of most, but you were given the ability to see him, almost always. Being his mate had that benefit, you supposed. It also gave you the ability to express annoyance about the amount of prey he left to rot. Seriously, if you saw one more Patrat…

Ingo was much preferable in his nature, having the calmer demeanour of the two. Yet, he seemed to view you more like a spouse than a shrine maiden. You were often confused with your dynamic with him. Sometimes you cooked dinner, and he ate happily, and sometimes he cooked you dinner and begged you with his eyes. Either way, you seemed to be left with the impossible task of shrine upkeep.

You were happy, though. The twins were odd and occasionally terrifying, but living with them was fulfilling and happy. A lucky case, too, seeing as you would likely be with them for the rest of their lives. Your robes were made with a destiny knot that had come from their very own fur. They definitely wanted you around for as long as they could have you. Finally, putting away the broom, you sat on the porch of the shrine and tried to enjoy the small heat that the sun provided. Emmet came to sit beside you. His arm wrapped around you as you both stared at the sky for a moment. It was clear, bright blue. Something lovely and unforgettable, and completely unlike the sky you both met under.

“… The Zoroarks are planning on building a village of our own here,” he told you, “Ingo has not stopped going on about his excitement towards the possibility of kits around.”

“Hmm… Aren't we going to have some ourselves?” you wondered aloud.

“Heehee, definitely,” Emmet replied, “We have centuries to get started.”

Centuries…

You smiled and leaned your head onto his shoulder.

#emmet x reader #emmet/reader #pokemon emmet x reader #pokehybrid au #nastystuff

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autisticsupervillain · 1 month

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It's Fictional Throwdown Friday!

This Week's Fighters...

The Figure vs Homelander!

Conditions:

TV Show Homelander. Speed Equalized.

Scenario:

Homelander accidentally books a stay at the Doors Hotel. The Figure there tries to eat him.

Analysis: The Figure

Roblox had been the breeding ground for many different horror games over the course of its existence. For much of Roblox's early years, these games were notorious for being quite terrible. Made cheeply and quickly by kids who didn't know better. But, there is one horror game that stands tall above the pack as arguably the turning point in Roblox horror. Doors.

Doors sets the Player inside a haunted, seemingly endless hotel, full of hundreds of rooms with countless monster lurking inside. Rush sits ready to charge you down at a moments notice. Seek waits and watches for its chance to rip you to shreds. How did you get here? How will you survive? And how will you escape the most powerful and dangerous entity the building has to offer? How can you outrun the Figure?

The Figure is a giant monster, standing at twice the height of a full grown man. With rows of teeth in place of a face, the Figure is large enough to swallow the Player whole and bloodthirsty enough to track them to the ends of the Earth to do it.

Being blind, the Figure relies on its incredible hearing to track down its meals. Sensitive enough to hear a heartbeat through a solid wall, its hearing lets it track the Player down across the entire hotel, never relenting until it's victim is claimed.

The Figure is strong enough to dislodge an elevator and send it hurtling down the shaft, powerful enough to rip the Player to shreds in one blow, and stronger than every other monster in the Hotel, even including Seek.

Seek is a single eyed monster so powerful that the mere act of it chasing you shakes the entire building, shattering windows for its thousands if arms to reach through and toppling over bookshelves with the vibrations. Seeing as the building is shown to have dozens of floors, as shown when Figure sends an elevator falling into the basement. In order to generate the energy to effect the entire building, Seek's footsteps and arms would likely be generating a magnitude 4.5 earth, or 85 tons of TNT.

Source:

And Figure and Seek are very much meant to be comparable. They're the only two entities in the game powerful enough to simply... ignore the Player trying to banish them with a crucifix. The Figure in particular just walks through the heavenly chains sent to banish it without even noticing. And while you may be able to outrun it at first, it will get faster than you the angrier it gets.

Nothing in the building can stop the Figure. Not Seek, not The Player, and not even an electrical fire that sends it flying out a window. It simply comes straight back.

Be careful what hotel you stay the night in, less you meet the Figure lurking behind these Doors.

Analysis: Homelander

Imagine a corporation that has a complete monopoly on popular culture. Imagine a company so powerful that it could flood the human consciousness with media endlessly, drowning the world in nostalgia filtered pop culture plastic for all of time. Now imagine that such a company could create their own superheroes.

Who would they choose to be their greatest hero? What does Disney's idea of the perfect pop culture icon look like? Well, according to The Boys, he looks like the evilest Superman clone this side of Irredeemable: Homelander.

Vought, massive multimedia conglomerate of The Boys universe, created the Homelander to be the most iconic, beloved, pure blooded American hero of all time. By subjecting a young, pre-bred infant to their proprietary Compound V, Vought was able to raise Homelander to be the most powerful superhero of all time. This is a mistake most of them wouldn't live to regret.

See, Homelander was never treated as a human being when he was being raised. Vought viewed him as nothing but a product and treated him as such. This caused Homelander to grow up into a giant self-centered manchild with an endless need for validation and the belief that he could do no wrong. This meant that Homelander became the world's most powerful superhero and it's most vile threat at the same time.

As your standard Superman clone, Homelander has all of the standard Cape powers. He can fly at supersonic speeds, shoot heat beams from his eyes that can split airplanes, see through anything but lint, amd carefully pick out the sound of your heartbeat. Meanwhile, his superhuman strength is completely unmatched by anyone on Earth.

Homelander is durable enough to tank an explosion that completely leveled a chemical plant, a massive blast comparable to 44 tons of TNT.

Source:

Despite, or perhaps because of, this overwhelming strength, Homelander is a cunning manipulator when it comes to his PR. Despite his racist, misogynistic tendencies and his murderous, sexually abusive past times, Homelander is still seen as the greatest, most popular superhero in Earth's history. It is, however, all skin deep. Homelander is in truth, an abusive, self centered monster.

Homelander's atrocities include, but are not limited to, pushing a suicidal girl off of a roof, killing children to cover up the secret of Compound V, willingly dating a Nazi, and raping the wife of a man who insulted him at an office Christmas Party. There's evil and then there's Homelander. He owes the world nothing and he knows it. As the strongest man on the planet, no one could stop him from simply ending the world one day if he so chose. In the show, Homelander was powerful enough to defeat Soldier Boy, one of the only heroes powerful enough to threaten him, on his own, only retreating when he got outnumbered.

Having said that, he does not handle it well when his atrocities back fire against him. Said rape directly lead to the man, Billy Butcher, putting together a squad to bring down Vought and all its corrupt Supes, going in to become one of the few things that could potentially threaten Homelander himself. This violent assault did net Homelander one thing though, a son he could call his own.

Homelander was genuinely ecstatic to see that his child inherited his abilities, as his son was the first thing in his life that was his and his alone. Do not pretend that this makes him any less monstrous, however. Homelander does not see his child-by-rape as a chance for a new beginning, but as an extension of his ego. Something that belongs to him. It is not a question of if Homelander loves his son, but if Ryan ends up any worse than his father.

Throwdown Breakdown:

This is a fairly simple fight.

The Figure is nearly twice as strong as Homelander and it can match his enhanced senses with its own incredible hearing... but that's where its advantages end.

The Figure is an animalistic berserker that has never been in a serious fight with a creature comparable to it in its life. While the amount of serious fights Homelander has been in can be counted on one hand, that's still better than zero. Homelander's flight will allow him to make distance once he realizes he's outmatched directly, with his heat vision allowing him to fight from where the Figure can't reach him.

Making things worse is that the Figure panics whenever it comes in contact with extreme heat. Given Homelander's heat vision is hot enough to melt through airplanes, it's going to absolutely flip its shit when Homelander starts spamming.

And when Homelander realizes the beast is blind, he can just....

If Homelander thinks of that, this stops being a fight. It just becomes Homelander slowly roasting a blind, terrified animal to death after deafening it. And if he doesn't ever realize that and thus, doesn't defean the creature, than he can still fly out of its range and spam heat vision, exploiting the Figure's fear of heat to laser it until it runs away or dies.

Either way... I can't believe I'm saying this but.... Homelander wins. That's a genuine first.

Well... he won against Roblox so... maybe he shouldn't get cocky just yet. It's a pity win if anything.

This Throwdown's Winner is...

Homelander!

#fictional throwdown fridays #roblox doors #the boys #homelander #figure doors

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entamewitchlulu · 10 months

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honestly i'm still thinking about Lost Song and not because it was super good or anything. Honestly the more I think about it, the more mediocre it was. But there's One particular scene where the twist happens and that scene is just....so fucking good. It's actually incredible. It's such a shame that it's bookended by such mediocrity because the moment is so well crafted, so intense, and the way it makes everything make sense is so haunting. i'm gonna talk spoilers for a moment so in case you care about Lost Song at all and don't want the spoilers, don't read it i guess?

so the basic gist of Lost Song is that there are two stories going on in two different parts of the world. In one part of the world, the protagonist Rin lives in an isolated village with her family. She has the magical power to heal people with her song, but has been forbidden to use it. Meanwhile, in the capital, a woman called Finis is a songstress with similar powers; she can heal with her song and also control the elements like water, wind, fire. She falls in love with a gentle-hearted knight, but the prince who wants to marry her and use her powers as a weapon of war becomes horribly jealous and possessive.

So long story short: Rin's village is burned to the ground when a soldier finds out about her powers and wants to kidnap her. Rin and her remaining family have to go on a journey for safety, and soon learn about a woman called Finis being used as a weapon of war against her will, and Rin becomes determined to save her. They hurry off to a camp where Finis is supposed to be held, and start searching for her in the misty morning.

Meanwhile, Finis has coerced into using her powers, which are slowly chipping away at her life, to destroy enemy soldiers, or else her beloved will be executed. The morning she and her beloved plan to escape, the prince confronts her and brings her to a place outside of the camp. He pretends to apologize to her, and tells her that a prisoner of war escaped and killed a bunch of their men. The prisoner was killed, but now the prince wants Finis to use the last song she has in her to cremate the fallen soldiers and the dead prisoner as an end to the war.

Finis obliges and uses the song of fire to set the corpses alight. Except, one of the corpses isn't a corpse. It's her beloved, knocked out and dressed up as an enemy soldier, and he awakens to being burned alive.

At this point in the show, I'm going insane. because like. They're not seriously going to just let this happen, right? Rin and friends are going to show up and help just in the nick of time or something.

But nope. He fucking dies. He burns to death right in front of her, by her own power.

The prince is like "well thanks for getting rid of the last of my detractors! you can go kill yourself or something now since you can't sing anymore."

and then this is when The Scene happens. Finis drags herself upright on her beloved's sword and starts to croak out a song, despite having no power left. And this darkness starts to rise around her. This overwhelming hatred flows out of this woman who up til now was sweet, a little bit silly, and naive and innocent. But all that's in her eyes now is this burning, aching hatred and despair. And a song pours out of her.

And meteors rain down from the sky.

A massive meteor strike of hundreds of stones rains down over the country, killing the prince and most of his army, and seemingly killing Finis as well as she clutches onto her beloved's sword.

Meanwhile, Rin and friends are still looking for Finis. And at this point, I'm like, surely they're noticing this already, right?? They're noticing that meteors are raining down?? At some point while running around, Rin's skirt gets caught on a stone sword that looks very familiar, but she unsticks it and keeps running.

And the mist clears just a bit, and they're able to look down, and a woman in a black cloak is there. It's Finis.

In the next episode, we learn that Finis believed singing that song, the Song of Mortality, would destroy the world in exchange for her life. She thought that meant she would die. Instead, it meant that her "life" was taken from her. Her ability to live like a normal person - she's become immortal. Not only that, but she keeps living right up until the end of the world - and then waking up again at the beginning of it.

She watches the world repeat over, and over, and over, with just the vaguest of changes here and there. She hopes that means she'll be able to meet her beloved again - but every time she meets him, he's a different person than the one she fell in love with.

So she gives up. She becomes hellbent on destroying the world for real this time, so she doesn't have to keep living in this cyclical hell.

So when Rin and her friends finally arrive and see Finis, it's not to save her from the prince like the audience was led to believe. They couldn't come in time to save Finis or her beloved. Because the tragedy already happened.

I think that was the real genius of that moment. While the rest of the surrounding story wasn't incredible, the way the two different stories slotted together to make you believe they were happening at the same time, but then you look back and realize they weren't, that you were seeing past and present interspersed, that there was no hope of Rin ever making it to stop this tragedy because it had already happened, it was inevitable, it was in the past - that was haunting. Something you thought was happening right now was in fact already over. And you can't change the past.

I still can't get that moment where Finis begins to croak out that last song, her voice weak at first, and then thundering with hatred and rage as she brings on the apocalypse. It was so eerie and painful and just - even though the rest of the story didn't hit, that part still managed to.

not to make everything about arc v but. it'd make a damn good zarcray au.

#lost song #lulu talks

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doyouknowhowtowaltz · 2 years

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A few days ago I came across the phrase "The Valley Of The Twitching Curtains" as a description of a life with noisy neighbors, and I think that's the kind of phrase that would end up being the title of an Olwen Warren flick.

That is precisely the sort of title Olwen would stick on his work, goodness, I could already envision Enoch's review, I had to write it out.

As many of my frequent readers know, I have something of a bias towards Mr. Warren's films. With his latest movie, The Valley Of The Twitching Curtains, based on my very own Pottsfield, you might question the validity of my review with such biases established. That being said, I can confidently put my preferences aside and say that this is some of Mr. Warren's best work.

The Valley Of The Twitching Curtains is a departure from Mr. Warren's other films in that it shifts our focus from the woods he has become so synonymous with to a small town. Peaceful, quiet, and with plenty of room for secrets. Despite being a new wheelhouse of horror, Mr. Warren excels, making a place that should, in all rights, instill a feeling of hominess both claustrophobic and horribly vast and empty. But there are no cults in this little town, no homicidal murderers, not even a ghoulish monster hiding in the fields, for the truth is something far worse.

I pride myself in being a community man and have enjoyed the title of town busybody for several years (contested, of course), but after watching The Valley Of The Twitching Curtains, I found myself with a certain creeping dread that lingered long after the initial showing. I looked upon my neighbors in a different light, folks whom I have shared decades with, people I would have entrusted my life to without a second thought. Of course, in this new light, I found nothing amiss, but it is that need to look, that tickling urge to check the closet or beneath the bed, that Warren is so adept at inspiring.

It’s a fascinating and novel spin on the oh-so-common trope of the horror genre to fear being alone. Suddenly, being alone feels like an unreachable respite, the safe haven for which our protagonist is racing, as Warren masterfully deconstructs what it means to be alone.

Many, including myself, were disappointed that the Woodsman's Daughter did not include Mr. Warren’s original score. However, it has made a strong recovery in The Valley Of The Twitching Curtains. Often juxtaposed against cheery scenes, Mr. Warren's haunting piano melodies clue us in that something is not quite right, long before anything else starts to unravel. We are treated to a new song, sung by Mr. Warren himself for the first time since Where the Roots are Deepest, and it is quite a treat.

The cast, primarily composed of nonprofessional actors, pulled together an impressive performance that at times had me forgetting that it was a performance at all. It felt like a return to form after the odd cameos in the Woodsman’s Daughter, seemingly spliced in simply to put the name on the project, and lends to the atmosphere of a small town where perhaps you should start locking your doors.

Altogether, The Valley Of The Twitching Curtains is an enrapturing film in which Warren pulls out all the stops to weave together an entirely new way to set your skin crawling and your bones rattling. If I was not well familiar with Warren’s opinion of his audience, I might make the assumption that this is a handcrafted apology to the critics of The Woodsman’s Daughter, though it seems far more likely to be an insult to the film’s fans. Regardless, Warren proves once more that he is the king of creeping horror and, with the sinister end of the film, promises that he’s far from through unveiling the terror that hides in the familiar shadows of our childhood homes.

If you have the option, I strongly recommend catching this film while it’s still in theatres and watching this chilling unraveling of privacy as it was intended to be viewed.

Crammed into a dark room surrounded by hundreds of people, all sitting maybe just a little too close.

#otgw #Slash(er) Film #Enoch would be *thrilled* by a movie like this #Not only is it a brand new terrifying way for Warren to pick apart the minds of his fans #But like #Clearly this is flirting Olwen is clearly making a pass at Enoch by turning his beloved town into his beloved horror genre

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asukamood · 2 years

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Dreamswap belongs to onebizarrekai

While I do really love Drue and past Sweammare, I gotta admit that Drani deserved better. Man, Ani didn’t deserve to die this early on.

Anyways, here is a little fic about them dragging their workaholic (and alcoholic) ‘friend’ in ghost hunting with them that I wrote while having several mental breakdowns, ✨ enjoy ✨

***

The castle in which Justice Reigns was settled was old, it was not a secret for anyone. It has been there even a millennia before Dream was given the building, it was passed down from family to family yet not a lot of people talked about the paranormal activities that were sometimes witnessed inside the imposing walls.

Because yes, the place was haunted. By several ghosts actually.

Even Ani, while being very close to the owner of the place, had no idea spirits roamed the halls of the castle until they saw with their own eyes a pen writing down something on paper without a person holding said pen.

Children were gathered around that phenomenon with stars instead of pupils. “Emily came back!” Ani heard them say enthusiastically, waiting patiently for the pen to be put down.

They approached them and crouched to their level, a curious expression on their face. “Who is Emily?”

The orphans flinched, seemingly not having noticed them stepping closer. They stammered, all looking at each other in distress.

“What should we do??” One finally whispered through gritted teeth, eyes darting back and forth between Ani and the other children.

“I don’t know, maybe we should just tell them? Mx.Ani is trustworthy after all.” They all hummed in thought at the comment before nodding like one person and turning back toward them, unaware of the fact Ani heard them very clearly.

“Emily is our ghost friend.” One started, a smile on their lips. “But don’t tell anybody! It could be our little secret!” They brought a finger near their lips to underline the ‘don’t tell anyone part.

“Is Emily the only ghost here?” Many would have spooked or weirded out by the children’s confession, perhaps brushing it off as this ‘Emily’ being an imaginary friend of theirs but Ani did see the pen scribbling down words in messy handwriting. Yet to their surprise, they weren’t scared, just very intrigued.

The children shook their heads. “No, she told us there were more than a hundred here.”

As Ani kept gathering information from the children, an idea gradually bloomed into their mind.

‘I’m going to get a ghost friend.’

Although the children had been given some bribes of information here and there, it was still not a lot to go from, they were going to need a little more help.

Now, who would be of better help than Dream himself, who has been in this castle for decades straight, well, pan? With a newfound determination, the human walked in the direction of the latter’s office.

***

“Why am I getting letters about a potted plant?” Dream wondered out loud, the question not quite meant for anyone in particular. He read the sheet of paper in his hands multiple times but the text hasn’t changed, he didn’t know what was more perplexing between the fact someone wrote this or the fact they sent it to the CEO of the most prominent organization in the entire multiverse.

He was about to curl it into a ball and throw it away until the two tall wooden doors of the office’s entrance slammed open against the walls, the noise the collision produced loud enough to have Dream almost jump out of his skin.

‘Either this is Ani and nothing happens or it’s not and somebody might just get thrown in a cell.’

“Dream! It’s 6 pm, why are you still working?” He looked up from his paper and caught a glimpse of an emerald poncho covering fair skin, and messy black hair falling on the person’s forehead like a waterfall. That was Ani, there was no need to take out his handcuffs then, that’s good.

“Already?” The winged man looked up to the clock on the opposite wall from his and it did show the same hour Ani just exclaimed. “Apologies, I didn’t see the time pass.”

The thin human pouted with a disapproving glint in their irises as they stepped inside the room. “Yes well, you’re coming with me to get dinner, Mister Workaholic.”

Dream opened his mouth but was immediately cut off without even having finished the first syllable. “No, you may not drink. I need you sober today.”

A sigh escaped him but his eyebrows raised once the second part of Ani’s speech was processed. “Why?” He tried to think of his last encounter with the short individual but couldn’t remember if they had anything planned for the day.

“You’ll see, now come with me!”

***

The two of them were quietly chewing on a recently cooked steak when Ani gulped down a glass of water in one go before opening their mouth.

“Hey Dream?” The latter hummed, unable to say anything because of the piece of meat still stuffed into his mouth. “Do you know anything about ghosts haunting the castle?”

Dream froze for a solid second before swallowing down what was left in his mouth. “Why are you asking? Did you have any problem with them?”

‘If they hurt Ani, I swear I’m going to call an exorcist on them.’

Emerald eyes sparkled at the question. “So there are spirits at Justice Reigns! Why did you never tell me?”

Golden eyes blinked, several times. “Well I didn’t see the need to, plus from what I know they prefer to be left alone.”

The adult in green seemed to be listening carefully to the other’s every word. “So you communicated with them before?” Dream nodded, deciding to entertain Ani’s curiosity.

“When I first stepped foot into the castle, the spirits all wrote to me, begging me not to take them away as they thought I was an angel sent to lead them to the other side.” Dream thought back of his nineteen years old self watching pens writing on random papers without a visible person holding them with his jaw dropped.

Ani grimaced. “Ouch.”

“Couldn’t have said it better.” Dream took a sip of his grape juice. Seeing that Ani wouldn’t let him drink any liquor tonight, he had to settle with this family-friendly alternative for now. “But they understood that I was not here for that so now they just occasionally talk to me about… pretty much anything.”

“So you don’t mind their presence?” Dream shook his head, shoving his last fork of meat in his mouth.

“No. As long as they’re not harming anyone, I don’t mind them at all. It just gets kinda cold sometimes.” When Dream looked up, he noticed Ani looking at him with a certain expression. They were going to ask him a favor 100%.

“If you don’t mind…” Ani started, looking down and shifting in their seat nervously. “Could you go with me ghost hunting? I want to befriend the spirits there, they must be lonely.” When they were asking him with that look, how was he supposed to refuse?

“Okay. I’m not letting you try finding phantoms by yourself anyways.” Ani’s eyes sparkled at his answer and they grinned.

“Thank you, let me just grab some flashlights before we begin. See you in the main entrance, Dream!” Then the pattering of naked feet gradually grew quieter until silence dawned in the room once more.

***

As they have stated earlier, the duo did find themselves alone in the main hall, the place only slightly lit up by the light of the moon. Ani approached Dream with a smile, which rapidly faltered and morphed into one of horror.

“DID YOU CUT OFF YOUR WINGS?!” They exclaimed, worry evident in their voice.

“Cut off my- Why would I ever do that?” Dream frowned. “No I didn’t, I just turned them transparent so they wouldn’t get in the way of our investigation.”

Ani sighed in relief, one of their hands clutching their poncho. “Thank god, don’t scare me like that again Dream, I almost had a heart attack.” Dream sent them an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Ani nodded to acknowledge his apology and stared at the devices in his hands.

“What have you got there?” Dream pulled up a rectangular device which was divided by four parts: green, yellow, orange and red. Each had a sort of little lamp attached to it, they were currently all turned off. The other seemed to be a sort of mini lamp with holes in it.

“Just some things to help us know if a spirit is indeed with us or not. I see you also have a little bag with you, what’s in it?” Ani had a nervous smile on as they revealed the content of the bag to the blonde man.

“… You came here with sweets?”

“The easiest way to make friends with someone is to go through their stomachs.”

Well Dream had nothing to reply to this.

***

“So which room would you say is the most haunted?” In the darkness, Ani held a lit up flashlight that illuminated anything in a 4 feet radius but even with that, visibility was still at its lowest.

Behind them, Dream hummed in thought. “Either the cafeteria or my office.”

Ani arched an eyebrow at the last location. “Your office?”

“It used to be a bedroom.” He explained, without going into much detail. “A lot of things happened in it and now spirits surround it, there’s a reason why I chose this room and not another.”

“Oh I see— OH MY GOD-“ Ani cut their sentence off and turned on their heels immediately when a glossy yellow thing moved in their peripheral vision. “Dream, I think I saw some—“ When they fully turned, they took notice of golden wings sprang on their friend’s back as the latter rubbed his eyes, likely in fatigue. “Thing…”

Dream blinked once or twice before noticing his wings were back to normal. “Oh, I’m sorry let me just-“ A blink later and they dissolved into the air again. “I lost focus for a minute, my apologies.”

Ani shook their head with a smile, giggling. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing to apologize for. You can go to sleep if you’re tired though, I can do this alone.”

“No.” The tone Dream used left no room for discussion. “I’m okay, let’s keep moving. Cafeteria, right?”

Ani nodded and the duo set off to the location, their footsteps being the only thing breaking the religious silence that reigned over the castle at this hour… which actually surprised Ani a lot. Even though most of the organization’s activities took place during daytime, there were still supposed to be guards patrolling to make sure nobody would try any funny business when most people were sleeping.

Naturally they questioned Dream about it.

“I told them to stay outside the doors for the day, who knows if the guards walking around disturb the spirits in this place.” Ani’s mouth turned into an o of realization, they didn’t even think about that.

“Now that you say it… Oh we’re here.” They both opened the ancient wooden doors at the same time with one hand, the other holding the flashlight and illuminating the path in front of them.

As expected, the place was completely silent save for the sound of old wood cracking somewhere.

“This place used to be the throne room.” Dream spoke after some time, walking in a straight line as his golden eyes stared holes into the device in his hands. “A tyrant used to reign over the universe here and had countless people killed in this place.” Ani cringed at his words, they were never going to be able to look at the cafeteria the same way ever again.

Dream sat down at a table, soon followed by Ani. The man set down the strange device on a table, oriented toward the wall and turned it on. It illuminated the wall with an apple green color.

“Do you want to begin now?” He eyed them with curiosity as they arched an eyebrow.

“Begin what?” Awkward silence.

“Well… The conversation? Am I missing something there?” Ani blinked before the meaning of Dream’s words was processed and they hit their head with their palm.

“Right, sorry it’s two am and I lost my brain cells. Is anybody with us tonight?”

A table was hit nearby and Ani gasped in excitement, irises seconds away from stars. “Dream, did you hear that? They answered us!” Before Dream could even think of answering, the dark-haired adult took his hand and proceeded to run toward the origin of the noise, dragging the winged man along with them.

Even if Dream was not a huge fan of ghost hunting, he thought that if he got to see them smile like that every time, he wouldn’t mind doing this forever.

#Dreamswap #fluff #dreamswap #ds dream #ship #dream #ani #drani #ds ani #dream x ani #ghost #ghost hunting

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cielrouge · 3 years

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YA SFF Books by Black Authors

A Song Below Water by Bethany C. Morrow: About the strength of black sisterhood set in Portland, OR, best friends Tavi and Effie discover their true supernatural identity when Effie starts being haunted by demons from her past, and Tavia accidentally lets out her magical siren voice during a police stop.

A Chorus Rises (A Song Below Water #2) by Bethany C. Morrow: Teen influencer Naema Bradshaw is an Eloko, a person who’s gifted with a song that woos anyone who hears it. Everyone loves her — well, until she's cast as the awful person who exposed Tavia’s secret siren powers. When a new, flourishing segment of Naema’s online supporters start targeting black girls, however, Naema must discover the true purpose of her magical voice.

A Song of Wraiths and Ruin by Roseanne A. Brown: Inspired by West African folklore in which a grieving crown princess, Karina, and a desperate refugee, Malik, find themselves on a collision course to murder each other, despite their growing attraction.

Akata Witch by Nnedi Okorafor: Sunny Nwazue, an American-born albino child of Nigerian parents, moves with her family back to Nigeria, where she learns that she has latent magical powers which she and three similarly gifted friends use to catch a serial killer.

Akata Warrior (Akata Witch #2) by Nnedi Okorafor: Now stronger, feistier, and a bit older, Sunny Nwazue, along with her friends from the the Leopard Society, travel through worlds, both visible and invisible, to the mysterious town of Osisi, where they fight in a climactic battle to save humanity.

Bad Witch Burning by Jessica Lewis: For fans of Us and The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina comes a witchy story full of black girl magic as one girl’s dark ability to summon the dead offers her a chance at a new life, while revealing to her an even darker future.

Beasts Made of Night by Tochi Onyebuchi: After he eats the sin of a royal, Taj, a talented aki, or sin-eater who consumes the guilt of others whose transgressions are exorcised from them by powerful but corrupt Mages, is drawn into a plot to destroy the city, and he must fight to save the princess he loves and his own life.

Beasts of Prey by Ayana Gray: Two Black teenagers, talented Beastkeeper Koffi and warrior-in-training Ekon, must trek into a magical jungle to take down an ancient creature menacing the city of Lkossa, before they become the hunted.

The Belles by Dhonielle Clayton: In the opulent world of Orléans, where Beauty is a commodity only a few control, Belle Camellia Beauregard will learn the dark secrets behind her powers, and rise up to change the world.

A Blade So Black by L.L. McKinney: A whimsical and butt-kicking Alice in Wonderland retelling featuring a black teen heroine who battles Nightmares in the dark and terrifying dream realm known as Wonderland.

Bleeding Violet by Dia Reeves: 16-year-old Hanna reunites with her estranged mother in an East Texas town that is haunted with doors to dimensions of the dead and protected by demon hunters called Mortmaine.

Blood Like Magic by Liselle Sambury: Set in near-future Toronto in which, after failing to come into her powers, 16-year-old Black witch Voya Thomas must choose between losing her family’s magic forever or murdering her first love.

The Bones of Ruin by Sarah Raughley: Set in Victorian England, African tightrope walker Iris cannot die; but soon gets drafted in the fight-to-the-death tournament of freaks where she learns the terrible truth of who and what she really is.

The Cost of Knowing by Brittney Morris: A gripping, evocative novel about Black teen Alex Rufus, who has the power to see into the future, and whose life turns upside down when he foresees his younger brother’s imminent death.

Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi: 17-year-old Zélie and companions journey to a mythic island seeking a chance to bring back magic to the land of Orïsha, in a fantasy world infused with the textures of West Africa.

Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2) by Tomi Adeyemi: After battling the impossible, Zélie and Amari have finally succeeded in bringing magic back to the land of Orïsha. But with civil war looming on the horizon, Zélie finds herself at a breaking point: she must discover a way to bring the kingdom together or watch as Orïsha tears itself apart.

Cinderella Is Dead by Kalynn Bayron: 16-year-old Sophia would much rather marry Erin, her childhood best friend, than parade in front of suitors. At the ball, Sophia flees, hiding in Cinderella’s mausoleum. There, she meets Constance, the last known descendant of Cinderella and her step sisters. Together they vow to bring down the king once and for all.

Crown of Thunder (Beasts Made of Night #2) by Tochi Onyebuchi: Taj has escaped Kos, but Queen Karima will go to any means necessary--including using the most deadly magic--to track him down.

A Crown So Cursed (Nightmare Verse #3) by L.L. McKinney: Alice is ready to jump into battle when she learns that someone is building an army of Nightmares to attack the mortal world, before she learns of a personal connection to Wonderland.

Daughters of Jubilation by Kara Lee Corthron: In Jim Crow South, black teen Evalene Deschamps finds her place among a family of women gifted with magical abilities, known as jubilation - a gift passed down from generations of black women since the time of slavery.

Dread Nation by Justina Ireland: The Civil War is over, but mostly because the dead rose at Gettysburg—and then started rising everywhere else. Fighting the undead is a breeze for Jane McKenne, an Attendant, trained in both weaponry and etiquette to protect the well-to-do. But the fight for freedom? That’s a different story.

Deathless Divide (Dread Nation #2) by Justina Ireland: After the fall of Summerland, Jane McKeene hoped her life would get simpler. But nothing is easy when you’re a girl trained in putting down the restless dead, and a devastating loss on the road to Nicodermus has Jane questioning everything she thought she knew about surviving in 1880’s America.

A Dream So Dark (Nightmare Verse #2) by L.L. McKinney: Still reeling from her recent battle (and grounded until she graduates) Alice must cross the Veil to rescue her friends and stop the Black Knight once and for all in Wonderland.

Early Departures by Justin A. Reynolds: Jamal’s best friend Q is brought back to life after a freak accident … but they only have a short time together before he will die again. How can Jamal fix his friendship without the truth?

Fate of Flames by Sarah Raughley: Before they can save the world from the monstrous phantoms, four girls who have the power to control the classical elements: earth, air, fire, and water must first try to figure out how to work together.

For All Time by Shanna Miles: Tamar and Fayard, two Black teens, are fated to repeat their love story across hundreds of lifetimes, from 14th-century Mali to the distant future, as they struggle to break the cycle.

The Gilded Ones by Namina Forna: Inspired by the culture of West Africa, a feminist fantasy debut traces the experiences of 16-year-old Deka, who is invited to leave her discriminatory village to join the emperor’s army of near-immortal women warriors.

The Good Luck Girls by Charlotte Nicole Davis: The country of Arketta calls them Good Luck Girls--they know their luck is anything but. Sold to a "welcome house" as children and branded with cursed markings. When Clementine accidentally kills a man, the girls risk a dangerous escape to find freedom, justice, and revenge.

Kingdom of Souls by Rena Barron: Set in a West African-inspired fantasy kingdom, Arrah comes from a long line of powerful witchdoctors, yet fails at magic. When Arrah trade years off her life for magic to stop the Demon King from destroying the world—that is if it doesn’t kill her first.

Legacy of Light (The Effgies #3) by Sarah Raughley: After Saul’s strike on Oslo—one seemingly led by Maia herself—the Effigies’ reputation is in shambles. Belle has gone rogue, Chae Rin and Lake have disappeared, and the Sect is being dismantled and replaced by a terrifying new world order helmed by Blackwell. If the Effigies can’t put the pieces together soon, there may not be much left of the world they’ve fought so desperately to save.

Legendborn by Tracy Deonn: In this King Arthur retelling, Black teen Bree Matthews infiltrates a secret society of powerful magic wielders to find out the truth behind her mother’s untimely death.

Mem by Bethany C. Morrow: In alternate reality Montreal (1925), a young woman’s personality is the result of a startling experimental procedure, leaving her to struggle with the question of who she really is.

Miles Morales, Spider-Man by Jason Reynolds: But Miles Morales accidentally discovers a villainous teacher's plan to turn good kids bad, he will need to come to terms with his own destiny as the new Spider-man.

Oh My Gods by Alexandra Sheppard: Half-mortal teenager Helen Thomas goes to live with her father—who is Zeus, masquerading as a university professor—and must do her best to keep the family secret intact.

The Opposite of Always by Justin A. Reynolds: After falling for Kate, her unexpected death sends Jack back in time to the moment they first met, but he soon learns that his actions have consequences when someone else close to him dies.

Orleans by Sherri L. Smith: Set in a futuristic, hostile Orleans landscape, Fen de la Guerre must deliver her tribe leader's baby over the Wall into the Outer States before her blood becomes tainted with Delta Fever.

Nubia: Real One by L.L. McKinney & Robyn Smith: When Nubia’s best friend, Quisha, is threatened by a boy who thinks he owns the town, Nubia will risk it all—her safety, her home, and her crush on that cute kid in English class—to become the hero society tells her she isn’t.

A Phoenix First Must Burn: 16 Stories of Black Girl Magic, Resistance, and Hope edited by Patrice Caldwell: Filled with stories of love and betrayal, strength and resistance, this collection contains an array of complex and true-to-life characters in which you cannot help but see yourself reflected. Witches and scientists, sisters and lovers, priestesses and rebels.

This Poison Heart by Kalynn Bayron: In this contemporary fantasy inspired by The Secret Garden, Black teen Briseis has a gift: she can grow plants with a single touch. Up against a centuries-old curse and the deadliest plant on earth, Bri must harness her gift to protect herself and her family, when a nefarious group comes after her in search of a rare and dangerous immortality elixir.

A Psalm of Storm and Silence (A Song of Wraiths and Ruin #2) by Roseanne A. Brown: As the fabric holding Sonande together begins to tear, Malik and Karina once again find themselves torn between their duties and their desires.

A Queen of Gilded Horns (A River of Royal Blood #2) by Amanda Joy: After learning the truth of her heritage, Eva is on the run with her sister Isa as her captive, but with the Queendom of Myre on the brink of revolution, Eva and Isa must make peace with each other to save their kingdom.

Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko: In a West African-inspired empire, Tarisai is raised by The Lady and sent to kill the Crown Prince once she gains his trust. Tarisai won’t stand by and become someone’s pawn—but is she strong enough to choose a different path for herself?

Redemptor (Raybearer #2) by Jordan Ifueko: For the first time, an Empress Redemptor sits on Aritsar's throne. To appease the sinister spirits of the dead, Tarisai must now anoint a council of her own, coming into her full power as a Raybearer.

The Ravens by Danielle Page & Kass Morgan: The sisters of Kappu Rho Nu share a secret: they’re a coven of witches. For Vivi Deveraux, being one of Kappa Rho Nu’s Ravens means getting a chance to redefine herself. For Scarlett Winters, a bonafide Raven and daughter of a legacy Raven. When Vivi and Scarlett are paired as big and little for initiation, they find themselves sinking into the sinister world of blood oaths and betrayals.

Rebel Sisters (War Girls #2) by Tochi Onyebuchi: Though they are working toward common goals of helping those who suffered, Ify and Uzo are worlds apart. But when a mysterious virus breaks out among the children in the Space Colonies, their paths collide.

Reaper of Souls (Kingdom of Souls #2) by Rena Barron: After so many years yearning for the gift of magic, Arrah has the one thing she’s always wanted—at a terrible price. But the Demon King’s shadow looms closer than she thinks. And as Arrah struggles to unravel her connection to him, defeating him begins to seem more and more impossible.

A River of Royal Blood by Amanda Joy: A North African-inspired feminist fantasy in which two sisters, Eva and Isa must compete in a magical duel to the death for the right to inherit the queendom of Myre.

Slice of Cherry by Dia Reeves: In Portero, Texas, teens Kit and Fancy Cordelle, daughters of the infamous Bonesaw Killer, bring two boys with similar tendencies to a world of endless possibilities they have discovered behind a mysterious door.

Siege of Shadows (The Effigies #2) by Sarah Raughley: After Saul reappears with an army of soldiers with Effigy-like abilities, threatening to unleash the monstrous Phantoms, e-year-old Maia and the other Effigies hope to defeat him by discovering the source of their power over the four classical elements, but they are betrayed by the Sect and bogged down by questions about the previous Fire Effigy's murder.

The Sisters of Reckoning (The Good Luck Girls #2) by Charlotte Nicole Davis: The blockbuster sequel to an alternate Old West-set commercial fantasy adventure.

The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow: Set in the near-future, in which a captive teen human and a young alien leader—bonded by their love of forbidden books and music—embark on a desperate road trip as they attempt to overturn alien rule and save humankind.

War Girls by Tochi Onyebuchi: Set in a futuristic, Black Panther-inspired Nigeria, sisters Onyii and Ify, separated by a devastating civil war, must fight their way back to each other against all odds.

Vessel by Sarah Beth Durst: When the goddess Bayla fails to take over Liyana's body, Liyana's people abandon her in the desert to find a more worthy vessel, but she soon meets Korbyn, who says the souls of seven deities have been stolen and he needs Liyana's help to find them.

The Weight of Stars by K. Ancrum: After a horrific accident brings loners Ryann and Alexandria together, Ryann learns that Alexandria's mother is an astronaut who volunteered for a one-way trip to the edge of the solar system.

White Smoke by Tiffany D. Jackson: Black teen Marigold and her blended family move into a newly renovated, picture-perfect home in a dilapidated Midwestern city, and are haunted by what she thinks are ghosts, but might be far worse.

Wings of Ebony by J. Elle: Black teen Rue, from a poor neighborhood who, after learning she is half-human, half-goddess, must embrace both sides of her heritage to unlock her magic and destroy the racist gods poisoning her neighborhood with violence, drugs, and crime.

Witches Steeped in Gold by Ciannon Thomas: In this Jamaican-inspired fantasy debut, two witches from enemy castes—one seeking power, and one seeking revenge—will stop at nothing to overthrow the witch queen, even if it means forming an alliance with each other and unleashing chaos on their island nation.

Within These Wicked Walls by Lauren Blackwood: An Ethiopian-inspired Jane Eyre retelling in which an unlicensed debtera, or exorcist, Andromeda, is hired to rid a castle of its dangerous curses, only to fall in love with Magnus Rochester, a boy whose life hangs in the balance.

Yesterday Is History by Kosoko Jackson: Black teen Andre Cobb undergoes a liver transplant and as a side effect winds up slipping through time from present-day Boston to 1969 NYC on the eve of the Stonewall riots, delivering a story that is part romance, part gay history, and part time-travel drama, exploring how far we have and haven't come.

#yalit #black authors #ya sff #black ya sff #booklr #book recs #book recommendations

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thesevenumbrellas · 3 years

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If you've not already done so, can you do a percy jackson/tua crossover type hc? This feels very demanding of me even though people ask you these types of things, so sorry if it sounds rude.

Of course! I’ve written a couple like this but tagging on tumblr is awful so I can never find them again.

Edit: didn’t realize until after I wrote it how long this was so... my bad...

Luther is the son of Zeus. He’s raised by the half-blood camp knowing he’s part of an important prophecy. Because of that he never knew a life away from being a hero. That can make him insufferable at times, and he has a huge hero complex, but he’s also someone you want on your side.

He’s sent on a quest to fetch the rest of the seven in order to complete the prophecy.

Diego, son of Apollo. Amazing aim but he uses knives instead of a bow as a direct fuck you at the gods. He too has a hero complex but also hates the gods for abandoning him. His father barely knows he exists. After his mother was killed by a monster he spent almost a year crossing the country to get to the supposed safe place his mother told him about. Camp Half Blood.

Allison, daughter of Aphrodite. She’s the strongest charm speaker the gods have ever known. She’s also never lived her life without it. After she misuses her power against some bullies, she runs away from home. She tries to survive without her powers when the guilt of her past plagues her. This doesn’t work very well however when she almost dies from monster attacks.

Allison is kidnapped by a Cyclops wanting to cook her when she meets Diego... who also happened to have been kidnapped. They escape together and she decides to follow him to Camp Half Blood.

Klaus, son of Hades. He’s not supposed to exist. The gods don’t acknowledge him. Hades can’t help him. He’s on his own.

Klaus was orphaned at birth but he has never been alone. The ghosts are always there. As a teen her turns to drugs in order to tune out their screams. This works for a while...

... until he’s attacked by monsters one night at a club. He’s saved by Diego and Allison. He decides to follow them to camp half blood. He doesn’t fully believe their tales of gods. He knows he isn’t a hero. But he owes Ben a favor, and his ghost friend really seems to think that it’s a good idea.

Five son of... well no one knows. He’s never been claimed. He’s lived in the Hermes cabin since arriving at Camp Half Blood at thirteen years old. He thinks it’s been decades. He’s not sure. No one can remember a time he hasn’t been there. No one can remember how long he’s lived there. He still looks thirteen.

Time doesn’t matter to Five. He can’t remember a life outside of camp half blood. He can’t remember a time he didn’t look thirteen. He can’t remember how long he’s been at camp. He can’t remember when the voice of his father started to haunt his dreams, but he can ignore the orders no longer.

When Luther leaves on a quest for camp, Five knows he needs to follow. So he does. Even if the truth could mean his death.

Can a son of Kronos even be part of a prophecy? If his new friends knew the truth... would they even let him live?

Ben is a ghost. He died almost fifteen years ago. He doesn’t remember his parents, doesn’t remember ever having powers... He knows his fate though. He’s seen it hundreds of times before. If you can’t pay the toll, you drift. You drift in the earthly plane until you can’t remember anything, until you can’t think, until you’re nothing but mist and regret.

He won’t let that happen. Klaus is a beacon. He’s a lighthouse during a storm. But more than that. When Ben is with Klaus, he can almost remember what it’s like to be human. He can almost remember Camp Half Blood.

Now if only he can keep that idiot alive long enough to remember everything else. Like why can Klaus see him even when he’s drugged? And why does Ben have a portal to Tartarus in his stomach?

Vanya is the last to join their group. She’s ordinary. There’s nothing special about her. She can play the violin although not particularly well. She feels like a half blood, although just faintly. She barely even attracts any monsters. She’s nothing. A minor God’s child, left to die at the claws of any monster hungry enough to bother with someone like her.

Until she levels an entire building.

The half-bloods find Vanya by accident while hiding from a manticore. She just happens to be at the coffee shop with her high school orchestra, on their way to a performance in the next town over. They only stopped because their bus was having engine trouble.

The half-bloods are shocked when the manticore is distracted from hunting them by Vanya, a seemingly normal human girl...

But even through the protection magic... the manticore can smell her power.

And then she accidentally brings the entire building down by playing a single note on her violin.

Is she a daughter of Apollo? The music would make sense. Ares maybe? With a strength like that? Athena? One of the big three?

Vanya follows them, searching for answers. And they follow Luther, on a quest he was raised to follow all his life.

To save the world from an apocalypse that has yet to happen.

Meanwhile Hera watches from above, terrified that her affair will be revealed to the world through the existence of her only daughter.

#the umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy #tua pjo #tua gods

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haus-seeblick · 3 years

Text

Suptober Day 2: No Vacancy

Title: Backroad Romance

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,119

Tags: First Kiss, Dean Winchester and Castiel are Alone in the Dark, Mild Angst With a Happy Ending, Sam Ships It, Making out in the Impala

On AO3 Here

“You’re shittin’ me, Sammy.” Dean groans and smacks the steering wheel with his palm. “There’s no room in the whole place?”

Sam’s voice floats into the Impala, high and tinny over the burner phone’s speakers. “No vacancy, Dean, I’m sorry, I checked with them three times--”

“--Nah, nah, it’s cool, we believe you,” Dean interrupts, cradling the phone between shoulder and ear so he can rub his face while steering around a bend. Cas reaches over and deftly slips the phone away, fingers pinched like he’s removing a block from a Jenga tower.

“Did you and Eileen find accommodations?” Cas asks, holding the phone out in front of him so Dean can listen in.

There’s a short pause, then: “Yeah… yeah, we did, but guys, the room is really small, like, a closet, I swear, and there’s only one bed, and--”

This time it’s Cas who interrupts. “--and you wish to engage in private romantic activities. Dean and I completely understand.”

They’re on a straight stretch of highway, but Dean still manages to swerve clumsily into the shoulder. He hastily course-corrects and bites down the urge to snap at Cas for-- for what? For talking like that? For using his deep, rough voice to say any words even vaguely related to--

No. It’s not Cas’ fault that everything he does steadily turns Dean into more and more of a creep. Dean shakes his head firmly and tunes back in to the conversation just in time to catch Sam awkwardly stumbling over his reply. Dean leans over, cutting him off with a whistle into the phone.

“We’ll be fine, little brother. Be a gentleman. Don’t hog the sheets. Girl like Eileen doesn’t come around every day.”

He can feel the bitchface radiating through the speaker and motions at Cas to hang up. Cas frowns and gravely says “Dean would like to end the conversation. Goodbye, Sam,” before flipping the phone shut. He drops it into the cupholder.

Dean makes a show of focusing on the road to avoid looking at Cas. He knows Cas is staring at him; it’s just something the guy does, sitting in the passenger seat and gazing at Dean as if the whole world isn’t flashing by outside.

Dean’s long stopped commenting on it. Let the dude stare.

He clears his throat. “We’ll probably have to find a logging road or something. Pull in and hole up for the night.”

“All right,” Cas replies. He opens the glovebox and pulls out the local map they picked up this afternoon when they rolled into Matlock, Washington, to investigate a haunted post office. It was a gray, dinky, bleak town and the poor ghost lurking around the mailroom seemed more melancholy than anything. She allowed them to dispatch her into the afterlife with very little struggle; that is, after some creative sweet-talking by Sam.

Eileen had teased Sam mercilessly about it before Dean had even gotten a chance. That’s how Dean knows she’s The One.

There was, of course, no motel in town. Sam and Eileen hit the road before Dean and Cas, because Dean insisted on getting a burger for dinner at the tiny diner on Main Street (a mistake). Now he’s staring down the barrel of a night alone with Cas, in cramped quarters, on a dark backroad. If they hadn’t already driven all day to get to Matlock, Dean would push on until they found a motel with vacancies, but he’s exhausted and Cas is just human enough these days to actually be tired too.

“There’s an access road nearby,” Cas says, tracing the map with his index finger. “In a quarter mile. Left.”

Dean follows his directions and sure enough, there’s a bumpy logging road branching off from the highway, stretching deep into the pitch-black trees. Dean pulls in about five hundred feet before turning off the lights and the ignition.

It’s silent. The darkness is all-encompassing, pressing in on Dean, so heavy it’s like he can feel it on his eyelids when he blinks. He takes a slightly shaky breath. Cas is utterly still, as usual, not a single rustle or exhale indicating his presence in the gloom, but Dean feels him there as intensely as he’d feel a roaring bonfire. His heart thuds in his ears.

Why is he freaking out? He’s slept in the car with Sam a million times. But even as he thinks that, he knows, he knows, that this is different. His brain starts whirling through logistics -- who’s gonna take the back seat? Is Cas even gonna sleep the whole night? Or will he wake up and just sit there, staring at Dean for hours, inches away?

Dean needs to shut off his brain. He taps the seat and says “Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean,” comes the immediate response, measured and reassuring. “Would you like to talk?”

Relaxing against the seat and slinging an arm over the backrest, Dean peers over to the passenger side. “Sure.”

The moon’s out tonight, far above the trees, and the grayscale of nighttime slowly bleeds into view as Dean’s eyes adjust. He can just make out the sharp angle of Cas’ nose, the slope of his chest and the outline of his hands folded in his lap. He’s always so upright, so proper. Dean wonders what it would feel like to undo him.

“Are Sam and Eileen having sex?”

Dean chokes on air. Sputtering, he braces himself on the seat and coughs until his eyes stop watering. “What?” he wheezes. “Why-- Dude, why would you ask that?”

He sees Cas turn his head to regard him. Even in the dark, Dean can imagine the piercing gaze.

“It was unclear to me what you meant by ‘be a gentleman.’” Cas lifts his hands to shape the finger quotes. “I assumed the two of them would take advantage of their privacy to engage in physical intimacy. Was your comment meant to discourage Sam from having sex?”

Dean throws up his hands desperately. “Okay-- okay, first of all, quit talking about my brother doing it. And second, no, I wasn’t ‘discouraging’ him, just reminding him to treat Eileen like a lady. You know, romance her a little.”

The darkness is a godsend as Dean’s cheeks flush hotter with every word. He’s surprised they’re not glowing. He taps the seat in a random pattern as Cas sits quietly, seemingly digesting the information.

When he responds, it’s slow and thoughtful. “In the pornography I’ve watched, the participants always begin undressing one another rather quickly. And in my own experiences, there has been very little that I would label ‘romantic.’ What is classified as ‘romance,’ Dean?”

Well, shit. The last of Dean’s composure evaporates, sizzles away like a drop of water meeting his burning face. He drops his head into his hands and groans.

Cas leans forward, his knee brushing Dean’s. “Have I made you uncomfortable?” he asks, voice laden with concern.

Dean’s throat is tight, his fingers sweaty against his forehead. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to at least open his eyes against the shadow of his palms. “Uh-- no. No, Cas. You, uh-- you should be able to ask that kinda stuff. Human stuff. I get that it’s, uh-- it’s important to know. For, y’know. So you can--”

There’s a hand on his knee. A warm, strong hand. Long fingers. Weighty. Dean’s heart kicks into overdrive. He slowly, very slowly, lowers his hands to peek at Cas.

“How do you like to be romanced, Dean?”

There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing in Dean’s brain. It’s a chamber of silence. A void. He stares at the outline of Cas’ wild hair, mouth slightly open.

“...Dean?” The hand on his knee shifts slightly and Dean’s blank brain runs zero interference as his own hand darts out and stills the one threatening to leave his leg. As soon as his skin makes contact with Cas’, though, everything zings back online in a rushing roar.

Play it off, Winchester. Crack a joke. C’mon. “Hah, funny, buddy, you really got me there--”

“--Kissing’s nice.”

He snaps his mouth shut too late. The words float away, unrecoverable.

Cas tilts his head. Then, slowly, very slowly, as if he’s afraid of spooking Dean, he turns his hand around under Dean’s so that they’re palm to palm. An invitation.

With a pounding heart, Dean accepts it. He laces their fingers together. His palm feels even sweatier when it’s rubbing up against Cas’ dry, smooth skin.

Sexy, Dean. Way to go.

Somehow, even though it was Cas asking the questions, he’s the one leading now, shifting closer, laying his left arm along the backrest behind Dean’s shoulders. Their faces are so close that they’re sharing air, just two shadows suspended in a frozen moment.

“May I kiss you?” Cas murmurs gently, his breath washing over Dean’s lips. It smells like rain-refreshed air, like a promise of sunshine, alleviating the weight of the darkness. Dean tentatively chases it with his tongue, wetting his lips and leaving them parted.

“Yeah,” he whispers back. Because fuck, he wants this. He’s wanted this for so long.

And Cas wants it, too.

Dean always imagined that his first kiss with Cas would be an inferno, fireworks, showering sparks, all those cliches. That it would yank him from his body and send him floating through the ether.

It’s not like any of that. It’s better. It’s real.

Cas’ lips are just lips -- a little more chapped than Dean’s used to, perhaps, but they meet his in a familiar brush, followed by the typical tentative press, leading into a hesitant swipe of the tongue.

He’s kissing Cas. Cas, who he’s built up in his head for so long as this untouchable, impossible ideal, who stormed Hell to drag him out, who smote demons with his bare hands, who is so inconceivably old that Dean should be just a speck of sand under his eternal gaze.

Instead, that same Cas is busy dragging his fingers down the side of Dean’s neck. A crest of goosebumps follow, shivers trailing down Dean’s torso, and he gasps a quivery breath against Cas’ lips. He’s not used to being led. Normally he’s the one in charge, giving as good as he gets, focused on hitting the highlights, satisfying his partner. There’s a whole formula.

He’s never trembled like this before.

“Dean,” Cas whispers against his mouth, reverent, his voice somehow gravelly even as a breath. He suddenly pulls his hand free from Dean’s and grips his bicep, dropping his other arm from the backrest to wrap around Dean’s waist. Without preamble, he twists, tugging Dean across his lap. Dean yelps and hurriedly adjusts his legs, ending up with his knees on the seat, straddling Cas’ thighs. His fingers and toes are zinging in excitement.

Goddamn. Who knew being manhandled would do it for him?

The crown of his head presses against the roof of the car and he slouches forward until their foreheads are touching. He pushes his hands into Cas’ hair.

Cas surges forward again, nudging Dean’s head to the side and pressing his lips to Dean’s neck. Dean groans, low and shaky, as Cas parts his lips and sucks a trail up to Dean’s earlobe, his tongue soothing in the wake of his mouth, dragging over every mark that he coaxes to the surface. Dean knows his neck will be littered with bruises tomorrow, but he finds he can’t bring himself to care, not when Cas’ teeth are busy grazing the shell of his ear.

“Jeez, Cas,” he breathes, dropping his forehead to Cas’ shoulder. He's hard already, hips twitching a little, but he keeps his hands firmly in Cas’ hair, tugging the soft, thick strands, guiding Cas’ mouth back down to his neck. His pulse hammers under each press of chapped lips.

He pulls back and captures Cas’ mouth again, sliding his tongue into that wet heat. They trade open-mouthed kisses, a bit sloppy, while Cas’ hands glide up Dean’s back under his flannel. Dean’s absolutely flying, his pounding heart easily winning the battle against the tiny voice in his head dredging up reasons to stop, reasons to run.

He wants to stay .

Their kisses have escalated to a panting, frenzied give-and-take, and Dean’s tired of hunching over. He drops his hands onto Cas’ shoulders and starts leaning back over to the driver’s seat, trying to pull Cas on top of him. Cas whines when their lips separate, but he catches on quickly. A little too quickly. He grips Dean’s waist and shifts him along the bench seat with such force that Dean’s arm goes flying and his elbow smacks right into the middle of the steering wheel.

The horn blares, rending the night.

Both Dean and Cas jerk upright, instantly on high alert. Reality takes a moment to catch up with them.

Cas recovers first. “That startled me,” he says, voice wrecked.

Dean lets out a long breath. He’s still got one leg up on the seat, the other one cramped awkwardly next to the steering wheel. He drags a hand across his face and lets out a breathy laugh. The next thing he knows, he’s doubled over, laughing so hard his cheeks hurt and his eyes water.

He’s just so goddamn happy.

Cas watches him, head tilted in the shadows. Dean lets his laughter run its course, petering out with a sigh of mirth and hand slapped on Cas’ knee.

“What a night, huh?” he says.

Cas lifts a hand and strokes Dean’s cheek with his knuckles. Even after all that making out, this one gesture seems inordinately intimate. But Dean just smiles.

Cas swipes his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone one more time before slowly, almost reluctantly, letting his hand fall. “You need to sleep.”

Dean nods and glances into the backseat. “You do too, don’t you? At least a bit? Maybe we can both fit back there.”

They get out of the car -- the cool night air rushes into Dean’s lungs and fizzes through his chest, bringing the events of the past half hour into blood-rich focus in his brain. He steels himself for the freakout, for the doubt and the deflection, but it doesn’t come. He feels right.

They crawl into the backseat, awkwardly shuffling and shifting, ending up with Cas sitting mostly upright (insisting that he’s fine) and Dean laid out on the seat with his head in Cas’ lap.

He drops off to sleep faster than he has a long time, Cas’ long fingers carding through his hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s the light that wakes him, pale gray seeping under his lashes and rousing him from a blissfully dreamless sleep. He lifts his head and immediately winces -- his neck is stiff as a board and his back aches all the way down to his tailbone. He’s really getting too old to be sleeping in the car.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean twists around and peers blearily up at Cas, who’s gazing down at him with one of his rare enigmatic smiles. Dean yawns and stretches as best he can, his back popping. He pushes himself up until he’s sitting next to Cas.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

Cas leans over and, before Dean can react, presses a warm, dry kiss to Dean’s cheek.

Sore body or not, this is the best morning of Dean’s life.

They extract themselves from the backseat and stumble into the damp early-morning air. Dean pops the collar of his flannel after a single glance into the side mirror. He’s got a lot of hickies.

They take a second to stretch (Dean admires the way Cas’ pecs shift under his dress shirt as he reaches for the sky) before sliding into the front seat. Dean backs them out of the logging road, the verdant green pines on either side nearly overwhelming his night-accustomed eyes.

Cas calls Sam as they roar down the highway again. It’s only 5 a.m., but Dean handed Cas the phone and told him to give Sam a wakeup call. The kid deserves it after a good night’s sleep in a real bed.

They pull into the parking lot of the Cedar Crest Motel just past 5:30. Dean ends up having to park on the street, though, because the lot’s at capacity, not a single spot unoccupied. He pats Baby in apology as he leaves her, and he and Cas make their way to the room number that a very irritated, cranky Sam snapped at them over the phone.

They’ve almost reached it when Dean suddenly stops dead. He grabs Cas’ arm. Cas shoots him a questioning glance.

“Look." Dean points up at the motel sign. There, huge red letters, blinking through the pale morning light, spell out a clear VACANCY.

“It’s hardly been six hours," Dean says. "No one would’ve checked out in the middle of the night.”

Suspicion rising rapidly, he strides to Sam’s door and knocks as obnoxiously as he can. As soon as the door creaks open, he reaches through and grabs Sam’s shirt, yanking him outside. Sam protests and slaps at Dean with one hand, shoving his bird’s nest hair out of his face with the other.

“What the hell, Dean!”

Dean just throws one arm up at the sign, staring at Sam with raised eyebrows. As soon as Sam sees what he’s pointing at, he shrinks into what Dean immediately recognizes as guilty little brother posture. He’s not even trying to hide it.

Sam clears his throat awkwardly, eyes darting between Dean and Sam, before holding out a placating hand. “I just-- I just thought, maybe you could use some time alone,” he explains hastily, backing up a bit into the room. “If we all ended up here, Dean, you’d insist that we share, you know you would.”

Dean knows Sam’s right (he’s careful with their fake money, so sue him), but he keeps glaring regardless.

“I just wanted some time with Eileen,” Sam mumbles, deflating a bit. “And I thought, y’know, with how you and Cas have been acting lately, that you’d-- uh, that you’d want some time together, too.”

Dean sputters. “Acting? We-- what--”

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas says, deep voice cutting off Dean’s protests. “We had a very pleasant night.”

Sam’s eyes widen and he straightens up, a knowing grin stretching over his face. His eyes dart to Dean’s popped collar. “Oh yeah? Did you now?”

Dean shoves him into the room and slams the door shut. There. He turns to Cas, who looks amused.

“Give me at least a couple days before blabbing to my brother,” Dean says, but he finds himself smiling. Cas nods. He reaches out and takes Dean’s hand, just for a moment, squeezing before letting it fall again.

“Of course, Dean.”

#suptober21 #no vacancy #gotta love some cramped car kissing #scheming sam strikes again #destiel fanfic

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yandere-sins · 3 years

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The Fox Wedding - RUN [Bad End]

Summary: You are to marry the fox spirit Kita Shinsuke after you accidentally agreed to become his wife by signing the deed to your new home. A contract is a contract, he says, but is there more to this marriage than you know? Will you be whisked away by one of the foxy twins instead, or have to marry Kita after all? Can you be with a creature that only seems tender on the surface, or will you try to run even if it might cost you your life? Choose your route carefully, you never know what these foxes are up to!

Characters: Kitsune!Kita Shinsuke, Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings for this chapter: Major Character Death, Blood mention, Death mention, Animal attack, Gore, Yandere, Kidnapping, Forced/Unhealthy Relationships

What makes a human life worthwhile?

Was it the prospect of forming a family? The continual circle of birth, life, and death? Was it the growing as a person that gave each individual worth? Learning how to laugh and love? Long, thoughtful nights and the achievement of creating something? Relationships, conversations, experiences, are those the things that made it worth to live?

Or was it pain, fear, and fight? Would your worth rise if you had to clench your teeth and run until your lungs threatened you to give up if you didn’t stop and rest? Could your life only gain worth from being so scared that your body trembled, but your senses heightened in an attempt to be warier of your surroundings? Every inch of your body was feelable, every muscle straining to get your attention. The perfect coordination of orders to follow was only achieved by panic and fear of falling into the hands of the people you had to get away from.

Or their paws.

Or their teeth.

These and so many other unimportant questions plagued your mind as you stumbled over roots and against trees as if you were in a haze. Was the brain capable of enduring as much fear as you were feeling, or was the reason for your questions that it was unable to continue feeling this way? Going numb would have been a preferable action, as well as a deadly one. As such, it kept you occupied, one way or another.

A loud bang resounded from behind you. It was still far away but too close at the same time. The loud crashing of a tree in the distance was only spurring you on, spreading panic as you questioned what kind of creature could break down a whole tree. You weren’t clever. You didn’t actually know an answer to that.

You didn’t want to know.

Thicket scratched at your skin, broke it, and drew blood as if it were a hundred deadly arms reaching for you, their nails scratching as they tried to grab you. Nothing in this forest wanted to let you go. Not the trees, not the bushes, not him.

Of course, you had regrets now that you chose to run. You regretted being an idiot and doing this to yourself even though there had been so many warnings. Not one of the fox people had advised you to run - at least at your own. But you couldn’t wait for a prince in shining armor. Or fur. You could wait for nobody to save you from this fate. Breaking out when you found some loose stones around the window of your cell, without proper clothing or a sense of direction, is nothing anyone would suggest you do, but then again: what else could you do?

However, most of all, you deeply regretted that you weren’t running faster.

It was almost as if it was taunting you, the heavy footsteps galloping after you. They weren’t created by feet, but you could recognize them as something very different. Perhaps watching these nature documentaries had been a waste of time, but at least they made you remember the sound of bears running through forests, their big bodies producing a hollow, echoing sound.

Not one inch of your brain wanted to acknowledge what was after you, but you were sure it wasn’t a bear.

Somehow, you wished it was. A creature that wasn’t sentient like a human would be just as deadly, but you imagined that it would be less awful than what awaited you. Even if your body still ran and ran some more, way beyond the point of exhaustion, inside of you, you were slowly losing hope.

Maybe hope is what makes life worthwhile, you thought quietly as you kept pushing forward. Only the sounds of your breathing and gasps left your mouth as you tripped over roots on the ground, but never words. Hope could create inspirations and aspirations. It ‘made mountains move’ and saved people from their worst selves if they could stay hopeful. So when had you given up the hope to escape?

Was it when Kita locked you into that cell? When he mentioned the contract? When these two fox brothers visited you but got sent away? Somewhere along the line, you must have lost it, though perhaps, only just recently, when you realized you had been found out. If this hadn’t felt like a hunt rather than a chase, maybe you could have stayed hopeful. But no matter how hard it was to look truth in the eye, you knew you were the prey of a creature you shouldn’t have messed with. All you wanted was to get out. Out of the forest, out of the vicinity of the monster chasing you.

Out of this seemingly endless nightmare.

If you were to die here, could you say your life had been worth something? Did you always do the things you wanted to do or was breaking out from the prison of the foxes your only glorious achievement? Would you leave earth with regrets or regret leaving?

These questions were the last you could think about before the hellish pain of long, sharp fangs puncturing your torso tore you out of it. How nice would it have been to die instantly on impact, unable to feel how the jaw clenched down, your lungs pierced, and your shoulder entirely crushed by force? Hear the bones cracking in the back of your mind and your arms and legs going limb?

You had imagined death differently. Even if you were unsure how you imagined it, you didn’t think it would be this way. There was so much pain that it stopped hurting. Briefly, the feeling of blood pouring out of you and dripping down your body was noticeable before it disappeared, too, as your ability to feel stopped. You realized in your mind that you shouldn’t have been able to turn your head, but pressed by adrenaline and the last, untorn nerves, you did, looking into the gleaming eyes of your monster. With a head as big as your whole body, you could only recognize the shimmering, white fur. The beautiful blue shine was mesmerizing, captivating you in these last moments of your life. Long tails waved in the far corner of your vision, and blue light illuminated this creature, making you wish it wasn’t so darn beautiful to look at, so you could have felt anything but astonishment.

The next thing you knew, the jaw around you loosened, making you drop to the ground, the last parts of your body that still twitched and jerked starting to cease their movements. In awe, you got to see how the beast turned back into the form of a human, your eyesight growing weaker by the second the more blood you lost, but you were still able to recognize the face that stepped closer, crouching down beside you.

In your head, you formed the thoughts to taunt Kita, rub it into his face how you escaped. Had you been able to, you’d have told him you’d never marry him and that he should stop crying like a child. But you were unable to. Gripping the only hand still intact tightly, Kita brought it to his face, nuzzling it. Blood - your blood - was smeared all over his face, and he kept taking deep, pained breaths of anguish. Even now, he seemed dignified, mourning the death of his beloved, and even now, you despised him for it, thinking he had no right.

“No… no…” he lamented, and you thought that it was unfair he got to cry small blue tears about you while you weren’t able to control what was going on with your body.

“I’m so sorry, [Name]! I’m so sorry… I… I couldn’t control it… I was so angry and hurt… I couldn’t…”

Somewhere in the distance, the sound of other creatures approached, and Kita took a deep breath. As if he could hide these emotions he was feeling by simply pushing them deeper inside of him, he bit his lips to keep them locked inside before deciding he’d rather kiss the back of your hand with his mouth. “Forgive me,” he whispered. “Please… forgive me.”

What kind of man or creature could sit by the side of the person they claimed they loved, mauled, and then ask for forgiveness? His hand brushed over your head as if to comfort you, and you heard more voices approaching, though they turned quiet as they understood what was going on. Someone said something you didn’t understand, and Kita only muttered, “Not yet,” in return. His eyes never left you, and finally, you realized that this was how you were going to die.

By Kita’s side.

Ah, if only you could have said something to him. Something that would have haunted him for the rest of his life if he truly cared for you as much as he assured you before. Finally, you understood these novels where people sought revenge against others. Though it was probably your body torn apart, but it was as if something was eating you from the inside, this intense desire to at least have an impact on your murderer’s life. Take some of the worth from him just like he had taken from you.

“Do you remember--”

His sentences started to become incomplete. Kita’s mouth moved, but you didn’t hear what he was saying. It was hard to see now, your vision was not blurry, but you couldn’t focus anymore.

“--- fox --- gave me --- we --- never ---”

Then, your name. Again. Your shoulders shaking, but all you could focus on was how hard it was becoming to breathe.

“--- don’t leave --- I love ---”

Taking your last breath felt almost like taking a big gulp of water and breathing out afterwards.

And then it was dark.

It should have been different. Your whole life should have been different. Moving to Japan should have been a new start to an entirely new chapter, but it led to the worst decision you had ever made. Perhaps you shouldn’t have run away. Maybe you should have stayed and embraced the marriage. Or you could have waited just a little bit longer for someone who’d keep you safe after all. Even if you had accepted the marriage, something good could have come out of it, and you should have just taken what you could.

But you didn’t. You died in the arms of the creature you wanted to get away from. The person you despised the most for putting you into this situation and killing you. Are you sure this is the path you wanted to take?

Was it worth it to risk your life?

Or will you try again?

➤ Go back to the prologue to change your fate

➤ Stay dead

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buildmeafairytale · 3 years

Text

Female Reader x Male Selkie

This is my very first commission! I was commissioned by @shy-basementchild for a birthday present for her friend, @anjhope1. They’re the sweetest and I’m so glad I got to write this for them! It was fun to write and a new experience to write for someone other than myself. I hope you guys enjoy reading it and if anyone is interested in a commission or monster match, my ko-fi is here.

You leave your house in the afternoon and the cool air is nothing but a familiar comfort under the layers you have on. Like most days, the rocky beach beckons you to its shore. You manuvare the cliffs like you’ve done it a thousand times. You probably have by now. This place has been home for a while now. The town is more of a small fishing village but there’s a touristy block that has lots of shops that you frequent. It’s a cold and rainy place, but it just makes your house feel all the cozier for it.

The beach is even colder, with the chill turning your nose rosie. You breathe in the crisp air, relishing in the way it stings your lungs. You gaze out towards the rolling waves only to see what looks like a head poking out of the water. It’s foggy and far enough away that you convince yourself it’s a seal, not dwelling on it while you take your walk.

You’ve established a routine in this seaside village. You do a bit of freelance work in the mornings and leave the afternoons for your adventuring, finding the best coffee spots and shops in town. But the beach is your favorite by far. From the way the rocks crunch under your foot to the rhythmic sounds of the waves lapping the shore, this was your happy place.

The next day is quite the same. You walk your beach, picking up stray bits of trash you find. This time when you look out to the ocean, the head that pops up looks much more like a man’s than a seal. Your breath catches in your throat and you can’t tear your eyes away. He’s still so far away, bobbing along with the waves and seemingly staring right back at you. And then he’s gone, just as quickly as he was there. As you walk the hair on the back of your neck prickles. You feel like you’re being watched but every time you turn to look no one is there.

This goes on, but the next few times he seems to get closer. It takes some time to come to terms with the fact your mind isn’t playing tricks on you, but by the time he’s closer to the shore you can no longer deny it. You wave and he just tilts his head and stares. You’re confused and unsure about things, and feel a bit crazy. You wonder if the fishermen working the docks would know anything about the mysterious man in the water so you make a trip down there

The docks are several miles up the beach, and you always make a point to avoid it. It’s bustling with people going between boats emptying lobster traps and the air smells like fish. You're nervous and watching your feet, making sure you don’t misstep on the slippery wood underneath you. You feel like everyone is looking at you but hardly anyone has seemed to bat an eye at your presence, all of them too busy to worry about you. You keep scanning the crowd in hopes of finding someone to ask about your man in the water. You’re ready to give up when you lock eyes with a man. A man you would recognize anywhere, since you’ve seen him everyday floating in the waves.

He is a presence and something to behold. He sits high up on a fishing barrel and his feet are still firmly planted on the ground. Muscular legs connect to a thick middle wrapped in a classic fisherman’s sweater. Long chestnut hair is tied back from his face and he holds a knife and apple in his hands. You stare and he raises his hand in greeting. The noise of the docks retreats to a buzzing in the back of your mind and you hold your breath. Time stands still and butterflies build before you're being bumped into by busy workers. The spell is broken and you rush out apologies for being in the way. You turn and leave as quickly as you came, having even more questions than when you arrived.

The next day you’re at your beach early with a book to occupy your time. You decide to stay there until you get some answers. You’re comfortable waiting and hope maybe he’ll come say hello. The grey eyes haunt you every time you close your own and you are restless. Was he some sort of creep, watching you from the water? He certainly didn’t look like the type to spy on women. He didn’t look like the type that would have to, gosh. Not that his good looks automatically made him trustworthy, but they certainly lowered your inhibitions.

While you were lost in thought of the handsome stranger, he had materialized in the sea not a hundred feet away from you. It startled you, but you waved anyway.

“Hi!” you yell out, tired of the voiceless staring contest that has been occurring. His lips twitch and he echoes your sentiment.

“Hi there,” he calls back, bobbing in the water.

“Isn’t it a bit too cold to swim?”

“A bit too cold for you, maybe,” he observes, his voice amused and carrying without strain despite the sound of the crashing waves.

You don’t know how to respond to this and the conversation fades when he dips under the surface, popping up a few feet away from where he was. His movements in the water are graceful and he swims in little laps not far from you. His upper body is bare to you above the black water, and he is thick corded muscle under a layer of softness that makes you want to touch him. He says nothing else to you but he doesn’t protest to your eyes on him. He seems content to be in your company and it isn’t for another while that he swims away and around the side of a cliff face, waving goodbye at you. You lose sight of him and while part of you is worried, the other part of you knows he must do this often and is obviously a practiced swimmer.

He’s there before you the next day and chattier too. He tells you his name is Aegis and asks you for yours. He asks what you do for work and how you like living in the small town. You tell him about your house up on the cliff and how much you love it. For how brooding and intimidating you first had found him, he was quickly becoming a friend. The conversation flowed easily and was comfortable, the two of you bantering a bit too.

“There’s so much beach, too. I love to see the water.”

“Not much to do besides sit at the beach, yeah?”

You shrug, “I like it here, it’s quiet. Or used to be, not that I oppose the company,” you jest at him, watching him take it all in stride.

“I’d hope not,” he flashes you a grin, “can’t have my beach buddy getting sick of me so soon.”

You give him a goofy grin back, trying to tamper down the butterflies growing in your stomach. You sit closer to him and the water, finding a comfortable seat on a washed up driftwood tree. “Maybe when it warms up I’ll join you for a swim,” you speak softly, picking at shells and rocks you like. You squeal when cold water splashes you, Aegis laughing when he has your attention.

“You ass!” you squeal out, going to splash him back. He bobs under the water again to evade you, an unmistakable grin stretched across his face. Your hand goes in the water to splash him back but it’s so cold it hurts and stings at your skin. That snaps you out of your playful game, and when Aegis comes up and sees the serious look in your eyes he tilts his head.

“What’s that look for?”

“Aegis, seriously, how the hell are you okay to swim? You aren't even wearing a wetsuit!. I don’t know how you don’t get hypothermia! ” You’re concerned and can’t help but reprimand him, unsure how he manages to not even have red skin from the water.

“I guess I’m just built different, lovely,” he says with an easy smile, leaning into a backstroke.

“Oh, built to withstand freezing cold water? Yeah, you’re different all right,” you tease back, retreating out of the water’s reach.

Things go on like this for days and the two of you get familiar with each other’s schedules, seamlessly working into the other’s routine. Aegis seems down today though, and he doesn't hesitate to inform you why.

“I have to go on a charter for a few days. I won’t be back until Tuesday,” he pouts, his pillowy lips exaggerated. You try not to let them distract you too much but he smirks like he notices you looking. You play along, pouting back.

“Aw, you’re gonna miss me too much?” you tease, despite knowing the next several days without him aren’t going to be as fun.

“Desperately,” he says back, in an all too serious way that makes your heart race. He winks and grins, dispelling the intensity and turning things playful again, something he seemed greatly skilled at. He flirts in jokes but never leaves any tension or pressure lingering which you were grateful for.

The days he is gone feel as if they last forever. It’s silly, really, how fond you’ve grown of him in such a short amount of time. You avoid the beach completely while he’s gone, knowing it will just make you miss your friend even more. Despite the way the time crawls by, though, Tuesday morning eventually comes around.

Something shocking greets you when you arrive at your beach that day. Aegis is there, but is perched on a large flat boulder. Instead of the thick legs you saw filling his jeans like you did on the docks, his lower half is that of a seal. It’s longer than his legs would be and heavy with blubber. He studies your reaction and you’re fascinated. You’ve heard talk of selkies before, the legend being popular in this part of the country, but you hardly thought you would see one in real life.

You try to look less confused than you are, not wanting to hurt aegis with an adverse reaction. You can feel his eyes on you, watching you watch him.

“Uh, hi?” you say to him, getting a calculating ‘hello’ back.

You nod to yourself while looking at him, “Okay, this makes sense? This is a better explanation than I had, at least.”

“Trying to rationalize my swimming habits, lovely?”

“Trying to rationalize you, lovely.” you toss back, feeling better when the same devious grin he’s worn around you makes an appearance. It’s still Aegis, and this is who he is. Or part of him, apparently.

“I wanted to show you, but I have a rule, lovely.”

“Rule?” you ask him, confused.

“Yes, a rule. Humans have taken advantage of my kind far too many times. So if I’m showing you this, and I’m going to keep coming back to see you, I need you to listen to me,” he tells you, full intensity focused on you. He goes on to explain the history of his people, the power of the sealskin, and the way humans would steal them to control selkies. He tells you in the past someone tried to steal his sealskin, but he could feel their intentions and replaced it with a fake, catching them in the act. These stories obviously pain him, and hearing about the kind selkies being taken advantage of in such a way is enough to make your heart clench.

“Never touch my sealskin.” He says, informing you of his rule.

“I would never,” you vow, throat tight with emotion. He nods at you, and then smiles. “Well come on then, out with the questions.” He doesn’t have to ask you twice, beckoning you close. You sit by him and let the questions start. They pour out of your lips and he answers them readily with a gleam in his eyes.

You’ve never been this close to him and you really soak in his appearance. His tail is mottled with creamy spots and patches, reminding you a little of your own birthmark. His lower half looks so soft and squishy but you know it must be powerful. Hair dusts his chest and other human skin, the curls making you want to run your hands over them.

It feels like some beautiful dream. You thank him for sharing this part of him with you and head home for the day, but as soon as you’re inside you're doubting that it really happened. But it did, and you see him again and again, each time feeling less like a daydream and more like a wonderful and magical reality.

“Your hair is going to get so tangled like that,” you tell him one day as he swims, watching his hair trail after him in the water. You wince in sympathy when you imagine him picking out the knots.

He grunts, “You’re telling me, I go through so much conditioner getting the knots out,” he responds, peeved.

“Well swimming with it down would do that! Why don’t you let me braid it?” you offer, instantly regretting it. The thought of sitting that close to him, of feeling the heat off of his skin as you run your hands through his hair is enough to make you feel light headed. Say no thanks, you think, unsure how you’ll handle this. Of course, he readily agrees.

“Okay,” he smiles, and you turn to let him get out of his sealskin and cover up. He sits in front of you and his shoulders part your thick thighs. You pick up his hair and it’s a matted mess. You don’t feel like running up to your house to get any tools so you slowly part the tangles with your fingers.

“It’s a knotted mess, Aegis,” you scold, trying not to hurt his scalp. He whines and exaggerates his wincing, acting as if you’re wounding him. “Big baby,” you mutter, sectioning off chunks with your hands. By the time it’s braided and secured with your extra tie the sun is going down. He’s slumped against you, sleepy.

“It’s supposed to be nice tomorrow, pretty girl. Swim with me?” he asks, voice slurred. You’re hesitant, not because you don’t trust him, but you’re a bit embarrassed about the idea of him seeing so much of your body.

“I have a birthmark,” you mutter, not looking at him. He turns and frowns at you with his forehead scrunched.

“Okay, and? You don’t owe me anything, but you know I have a literal tail right?”

“Oh what, you showed me yours and now I show you mine?” you giggle at him.

“I don’t think I’ve shown you anything yet,” he winks at you, flirting back while he gets up. The two of you get ready to leave your beach, packing things away. Aegis grabs his sealskin, but instead of putting it on he neatly folds it. “Would you give me a ride home? If you don’t mind, I mean. All dried off and I don't want to get in again.”

“Of course, just let me get my keys.”

The drive is quiet and comfortable, and his house isn’t far. To be fair though, nothing in this town is very far. When you pull into his driveway he leans over and kisses you on the cheek, eliciting a small gasp from you.

“Goodnight, sweet girl,” he tells you, an easy smile on his face. You feel your own heat up and you mumble back a goodnight. Your cheek tingles with his kiss your whole drive home.

In the morning you’re there earlier than normal and in your bathing suit trying not to look nervous about his reaction. Your birthmark stretches across and over a great deal of your skin, and while a lot of people assure you that it is unique and beautiful, you have been ridiculed plenty for it in the past. It makes you nervous to show new people and you only reveal it to those you trust. But you trust Aegis and he obviously trusts you too.

It’s as if Aegis can sense your nerves because he doesn’t make you wait long and talks you into the water right away. He compliments you but doesn’t linger or talk about your birthmark, only pulling you in the water with him. The cold has you sucking in air and your nipples pebbling in your swimsuit but Aegis pulls you close. The heat coming off of his body works to warm you, making the swim much more doable.

“You’re not luring me out into the ocean to drown me or anything, right?” you ask, legs bumping into his tail.

“I’m a selkie, not a siren,” he tsks, “we’re much nicer, I might just dunk you a few times,” he retorts, swimming further out.

“Um, are there sharks out here?” you ask him, suddenly aware of how far you are from shore.

“I’ve never had a problem with them,” he shrugs casually, doing nothing to assuage your worries.

“Sharks eat seals, ya know,” you point out to him.

“Good thing I have you here to protect me then, huh?” he teases, curling your legs around his middle. Once you’re secure, he gives a few strong thrusts of his tail and sends the two of you back closer to shore. You play in the water most of the day and go up to your house to eat. He showers and you take him home again, only after he insists you re-braid his hair.

You spend more time together and swimming with him quickly becomes the best part of your day. He kisses your cheek every time you drop him off at home too, his lips lingering more and more. The touches shared as you swim together have gotten less and less innocent as well. You find yourself falling for him and you think he likes you too, but one day the two of you reach a breaking point. You’re having a nice picnic after a long swim when things take a turn.

You reach across Aegis’s lap for the pitcher of juice, rattling on about your day, when it slips out of your hand. It spills onto his seal skin, and you don’t think you’ve ever panicked so quickly. “I’m so sorry! Oh my gosh let me clean that,” you grab towels to try to dab up your mess, picking up his seal skin in the process. Apologies keep falling from your lips but then you notice that Aegis is just staring at you with a clenched jaw. You gasp and drop the sealskin, realizing what you’ve done. As soon as it falls from your grasp, Aegis has it in his own, finally able to move to do so. He stands and starts to walk towards the shore and already has the sealskin halfway wrapped around himself before you can belt out another apology.

He wades into the water and you run to try to catch up. You get close, begging him to wait, until he finally turns to you. “I had one rule!” he barks out at you, seething. “You’re just like everyone else! How dare you!” His words are laced with venom, and you can’t help but step back as if he’s striked you. There is a block in your throat and you don’t say anything else, you only stand there and watch him leave, taking his selkie form and swimming into the depths.

Pitiful whimpering noises start to leave you, and since you’re all alone you let yourself cry. You’re ashamed you slipped up and touched his pelt, unable to get the betrayed look on his face out of your head. You’re angry at him too for not listening or giving you the benefit of the doubt, though. Some friend he was, you pout, shakily hiking up the cliffside.

You hope that Aegis will come around. The guilt is like rolling concrete in your stomach and you try to assure yourself that things will be okay. You just go through the motions to try to make yourself feel better, showering and taking your time brushing out your hair. Everytime you blink, though, his angry eyes are there, looking so accusatory back at you. It was an accident, you know you didn’t mean to, you tell yourself, wishing you could take back your mistake.

You go back to your beach the next day, hoping he’ll be there. He isn’t, and he isn’t there the next either. Or the day after that. You’re getting fed up with him avoiding you. You just want to talk things out and have your friend back, but it seems as though he is set on being stubborn about it.

You’ve been stress cooking the last few days, and when you looked to survey the damage you realize that you made most of Aegis’s favorite foods. The plan falls together then and you package it up to bring it to him at work. This could very well be crossing some boundaries but you could deal with that if it meant Aegis would forgive you.

Traversing the docks is just as nerve racking at it was the first time, this time maybe even more so since you’re carrying a hot dish with you. You duck under the arms of the people towering over you, and you finally get to the stretch of winding docks Aegis can usually be found dwelling on. And he is there, sitting right next to his boat like you expect him to be. What you don’t expect, however, is the stunning woman sitting next to him, stroking his arm in a too familiar way. She’s almost tall as he is with a scarf tied around her hair in an effortless way. You feel your heart sink into your stomach when they both turn and see you.

All of the sudden you feel ridiculous and humiliated, standing on the docks with a tupperware of food for a man who has already apparently moved on from you. You’re a deer caught in the headlights, but the woman starts to stand and smile at you. You pivot on your feet and hurry back the way you came, maneuvering through the crowd with a level of ease provided by your small stature. The whole walk home your face is burning in embarrassment. This isn't some stubborn silent treatment after a fight. You had broken his one rule and now all the romantic gestures and sweet words meant nothing.

You know there was nothing official or set in stone, hell, the two of you hadn’t even really kissed yet, but it certainly felt like things were leading that way. Your eyes burn when you think of the way his lips lingered on your cheeks and the way he let you wrap yourself around him in the water. You think of him doing those things with another woman and feel sick to your stomach. You enjoyed life just fine before you met him, and you tell yourself you will enjoy life just the same now that he wants nothing to do with you. It was an obvious lie, especially to yourself. You cry when you reach the safety of your home, wrapping yourself in a nest of blankets you refuse to leave.

You eventually have to leave though, just to get some fresh air and try to shock yourself into feeling better. Instead of walking your shore, you end up at one of the cliffs looking down on the water. You don’t stray too close to the edge in fear of the height but it still provides you a great view of the ocean. You sit and watch the waves crash against the rocks below.

While you’re up there, you hear a car sputtering in the distance. You watch it get close and pull into your driveway and out steps one of the friends you made in town. His name is Jamie, and he works at the touristy coffee shop you frequent. “Hey!” he waves, walking over to you on gangly legs. “I hope you don’t mind me stopping by, you’re always gushing about this place and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he tells you, giving you a boyish grin. He’s sweet and you don’t mind him joining you.

It feels good to reclaim your beach like this, hanging out with a new friend. Jamie is nice and genuine and has no rules to follow when it comes to your relationship with him. He feels safe and easy. After the first day he comes by, you don’t expect him to come back. But he does, he comes back again with your favorite drink order in hand. “I got your usual,” he tells you, a bright smile on his face when you open your door to him.

“Aw thanks, you didn’t have to do that!” you tell him, excited and flattered by the gesture. He just shrugs and smiles at you more, scratching at the back of his neck. “Let me just get my coat,” you say, ready for another walk on the beach. He is too, and you spend the day rattling on to one another. He’s a little awkward and it makes you feel awkward too, but it’s more endearing than anything. You can’t help that your gaze keeps wandering out to the sea, waiting to see Aegis between the waves. You don’t, though, even if you think you feel his eyes on you.

“You okay?”

You shake yourself out of your thoughts, “Sorry,” you smile, “just daydreaming a bit is all.” Daydreaming about your days here spent with Aegis, the sun shining in his ocean grey eyes. You miss him and wish things had ended differently.

Jamie sits on a rock and you follow his lead, getting comfortable and enjoying the rare moment of sunshine. Jamie suddenly clears his throat next to you, catching your attention. “Would you,” he sputters on, his cheeks pink, “would you want to go on a date sometime? I’d really love to take you on one.” Your heart is pounding and ears are ringing. This sort of thing always makes you anxious but you’re stopped before you’re able to respond.

“No.”

A firm and angry voice sounds from behind you. If you thought you were nervous before, it was nothing compared to this. Jamie’s gaze is locked above your head and he looks confused.

“Uh, I wasn’t asking you?”

“She will not be going on a date with you. I’d say sorry but I’m not,” Aegis snaps out, and you stop yourself from turning to look at him.

“Aegis, what the fuck?” The woman from before is there too then, and you finally look at them. They’re both dripping wet and carrying seal skins. The woman is a selkie too, then. Your heart drops and it makes sense he would rather be with her. She was gorgeous and surely easier to trust than a human.

“I’m so sorry for my brother’s behavior,” she scowls, “he can be a real dickhead sometimes.”

“Brother?” you ask, shock lacing your voice. Aegis and his sister snap their attention to you, then, and his face morphs from a mask of fury to one of understanding and sadness. He comes closer after a pause.

“Yes, sweet girl, my sister. You thought the worst of me, yeah?”

Jamie chimes in “Uh, sweet girl?” he asks “Oh! Oh shoot, sorry, gosh, sorry I thought you were single.” Jamie looks at you though, and sees your red cheeks and your inability to form a response and comes to your aid. “Actually, do you want to go home? You look uncomfortable.” You just nod and get your things, grateful to have a friend like him.

“Yeah, I think I should head home. Um, I’ll talk to you later Jamie. Nice to meet you, by the way,” you say, polite and looking at Aegis’s sister.

“Were you...swimming? It’s freezing!” is the last thing you hear Jamie say before you’re rushing away.

Aegis tails you to your house, pleading with you. “Please, at least let me talk to you,” he begs, desperation clear in his voice. You’re out of breath from your quick ascent up from the beach and too flustered and embarrassed to talk to him. You’re angry that he thinks he could ignore you after blowing up on you and then come back acting like he had some sort of claim on you.

“Not now,” is all you manage to say.

“Aegis! For fucks sake, leave her be!” his sister yells out, and you’re grateful for the intervening. You head inside your house and leave the rest of them outside. Jamie leaves and Aegis and his sister head back down towards the water, likely leaving the same way they came. Aegis looks back several times, catching your eye in the window. I’ll talk to him soon, you think. Just not right now, not until you sort out the mess of feelings you have.

You can’t help but be conflicted. Seeing Aegis standing there dripping wet and all possessive over you stirred your desire. You have to remind yourself to be angry and stand your ground. He needs to learn how to communicate, not just act like a neanderthal and manage to win you back based on sheer attractiveness. His words still stung and he had lots of making up to do.

As you busy yourself in your home, you see dark clouds gathering through your window. You turn on the local news and it looks like a bad storm is set to ravage your town. You’re nervous. You knew the rainy season could be bad here but the locals often discussed the occasional hurricane-eske storms that tear through. You are unsure how well your home will hold up. You try to secure what you can and get ready to hunker down for a while.

Sure enough, thunder starts to rumble. It’s deep and shakes the earth beneath you. The wind and rain howl outside and you pray your generator holds up. You entertain yourself for a bit, curled up watching a movie, but soon enough the weather is too bad to concentrate on anything else. When an especially loud bout of thunder hits you start to feel panicky. It rattles your windows and you make a point to stay away from them. They rattle so loudly that you almost miss the pounding on your door.

Almost, though. When you realize someone is knocking your heart beats even faster. You pick up the closest thing you could use as a weapon, unsure who could be here. You peek through and see Aegis standing outside, soaked to the bone. You’re relieved that it’s him, but not entirely happy he’s here. You wrench the door open and allow him in, the wind promptly slamming the door back into place. He settles onto a stool and you stay on the opposite side of the room, occupying yourself with looking outside.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he explains, and you nod. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“I didn’t mean to touch it, Aegis. I really didn’t! And you know that and still left,” you manage to get out past the knot in your throat.

“Aye, I know. I made a mistake, I got angry.” His voice gets softer, “I got scared, my sweet girl.”

You sniffle and look away, annoyed at the effect he has on you. He crumbles down your walls one word at a time.

“I was stupid and didn’t know what to do. My sister had to come talk some sense into me.”

“I didn’t think she was your sister,” you mumble and he nods, giving you a watery smile.

“I’m sorry for that, too. After I saw you with that man on the beach I was so angry. She reminded me I had no right to be, I had no claim on you. I didn’t like hearing that,” he says. He stands then, eyes locked on your own.

You are on the other side of the room, backed up against your wall. As if the space between you could stop the pull of your heart. Your eyes are wide and flooded over and you don’t care to hold your tears back anymore. He walks towards you and he holds his sealskin in his hands. The closer he gets to you, the more you can feel your knees buckling. You feel them lock right as Aegis locks an arm around your waist, wrapping his seal skin over your shoulders at the same moment. When the pelt brushes against your skin and envelops you in its warmth, you feel more at peace than you have in days. It is like Aegis’s very being is intertwining around yours. His essence permeates through your skin and curls around your cells, and you relish it and relax into his hold. You knew the sealskin had magic to it but you didn’t realize how much it would affect you.

“What-what are you doing?” you whimper out, making no move to stop him.

“I want you to know I trust you. I want you to trust me too. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, sweet girl,” he says. “After my tantrum and being away from you, I realized I’d give you my damn sealskin if it meant I could be yours.” He wipes away your stray tears and brushes your hair out of your face, gentling you. “Shhh, I’ve got you. No more crying, not because of me,” he pleads.

“O-okay,” you reply, wobbly and unsure what else to say. The euphoric feeling of his sealskin is still lingering and you know he’s speaking the truth to you.

“My love,” he cooes, “won’t you let me earn your forgiveness?”

You sniffle and nod, stretching toward him for a kiss, a real one. He obliges you, his bearch a scratchy comfort to your flushed skin, grounding you. He tastes like salt and wind, his kiss flavored by the sea. It’s chaste but perfect and when lightning strikes and sounds you break away from his lips only to curl further into his arms. A fearful noise escapes you and you bury your face into his neck. His hands rub your back and you take some deep breaths. If your house has lasted this long then it’ll be okay. You’re safe in his arms with his sealskin warm around you.

You pull back, intent on kissing him more thoroughly this time. He is eager too and pulls you flush against him. He pulls you away from the wall and shuffles you onto the couch, not allowing a centimeter space to form between your bodies. You kiss him over and over, soft moans leaving you every time his lips mould to your own. His hands find your skin under your sweater and you are eager for more, burying your own in his hair. .

“Let me lay you down,” he says, “let me show you how much I missed you.”

Heat has gathered between your legs and the tingling of the sealskin on your flesh feels as though it has concentrated itself there. You pinch them together and he notices, pulling a leg over his hip to grind into your center. You whimper into his mouth, his lips pulling into a smile. He strips you of your sweater and makes sure to plant kisses across your birthmark. You lose the rest of your clothes and as his hands wander, so do your own.

You tease his waistband, slowly slipping your hand inside. He rumbles a deep encouraging noise and you take him in hand. His cock is thick and heavy, pulsing in your grasp. It’s bigger than anything you’ve taken before and you aren’t sure that it’ll fit. You tell him as much, looking up at him with wide lust filled eyes.

“It’ll fit sweetheart,” he whispers, his fingers tracing the crease of your labia. “I’ll make sure you’re ready for me.”

He parts your folds and coats his fingers, your legs spreading to give him more room. He dips the tips of his fingers just barely inside of you, becoming familiar with your entrance. You aren’t good at being patient, though, and his cock is so close. You arch and moan, shifting further toward him and presenting yourself only for him to halt your movements. “Don’t tease,” you whimper out, only earning an amused laugh from your selkie.

“Alright then,” he kisses you with a smiling mouth, “no teasing,” he says, promptly thrusting two of his thick digits into you. A surprised moan is torn from your throat and he glides through your walls easily, aided by your arousal. He scissors and curls his fingers in and out, stretching you open for him and spreading around your wetness. His thumb finds you clit and your mouth falls open, making room for his tongue to tangle with your own in a sloppy kiss that makes your cunt tighten.

“Please,” you beg him, “I want you,”

“You beg so pretty,” he relents, fingers retreating after a final movement.

He places himself between your legs, bending to kiss you again as he does. He kisses your cheek too before rising back up. He presses and rubs himself between your lips, making sure he’s covered in your wetness. His hips stutter when the head of his cock meets your folds but you paw at his shoulders, wordlessly pleading with him to continue. As he splits you apart underneath him a shaky breath leaves his lips. He hilts himself and stays there for a moment, soaking in the feel of your velvet cunt pulsing around him. You tighten around him in an attempt to get him to move. You try to tilt your hips up but he grabs them, forcing them in place.

“Don’t move,” he gasps out, looking strung out above you. His head is tilted back and his eyes are closed. He’s beautiful and all yours. The magic of his pelt connects the two of you on a deeper level that has you feeling floaty and out of control, but the stretch of his cock and feel of his hands ground you.

A whine leaves you and you clench down on him, hoping to spur him into action. “Fuck,” he sputters, pushing even harder into you. You can feel him so deeply and it’s impossible to tell where one of you ends and the other begins.

“Aegis,” you moan out, “move, please.” you cry out, nails digging into him. With a clenched jaw he follows your request. He retreats then pumps into you again, slowly but forcefully. His pace starts slow and he fully hilts himself inside of you each time. Your hips twitch up and the head of his cock notches against a spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling up into your head. He notices and makes a point to angle his hips toward it. Your legs turn to jello as he speeds up, snapping his legs against you. You reach down and rub your clit, Aegis encouraging you.

“You take me so well. Fucking made to be wrapped around me, weren’t you?” he says, “That’s right, take your pleasure,” he whispers, his hot breath on the shell of your ear. His words have a tightness building in your gut, the coil wrapping tighter and tighter until you cry out in release. With you cumming underneath him Aegis can’t hold back any longer. He drives into you with rhythmless thrusts and moans out above you, a high pornographic sound that has aftershocks running through you as he spills inside of you. Little jerks of his hips extend your pleasure as the two of you slowly sink together.

Aegis is twitching and cooing at you as the haze clears from your mind. He wraps his arms and legs around you, the heavy limbs tangling with your own. He nuzzles into you as content as can be. Sweat is cooling on your skin and he covers the two of you with a throw blanket, the storm outside long forgotten. Your face is peppered in kisses as you drift to sleep, his pelt still a comfort underneath you.

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