#may all your safe havens burn and abandon you

[mythrae]

On the Lowest

Summary: Sworn to secrecy, you and Gale relieve a bit of stress during a midnight tryst. (aka Gale Dekarios fucks)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors do NOT interact), smut without plot

Author's Notes:

Thank u all for voting in my tumblr poll I hope this is to your liking

Tav is described as having female genitalia

This might be a little OOC for Gale but I definitely see him as a switch kind of guy, he's just a little more of a top in this bc ya girl is a bottom

I haven't written smut in a LONG time and this isn't beta'd so please be kind

Click here to read on AO3 :)

Usually, you never mixed your business with pleasure.

It was a dangerous game, one you knew all too well. You found yourself often thinking with what’s between your legs rather than between your ears, and in an environment where you’re working closely with others, it can lead to many awkward situations with your companions. So awkward, in fact, you feared that someone could potentially leave your party over it.

But there was something about the Wizard of Waterdeep that made you want to risk it all.

You had taking a liking to Gale ever since he joined your party. Kind, intelligent, powerful, he was a formidable ally, and a good companion to keep around.

But he first intrigued you in that way while fighting through the Shadow Cursed lands, after a particularly tough battle. Gale had made a comment to you about how he read that a brush with danger may have an effect on one’s desire for… other forms of stimulation.

He understood when you told him that you weren’t looking for a long-term partner, especially with the dubious task of removing the tadpole in the forefront of your mind. But, as long as the two of you kept it a secret, you supposed there was nothing wrong with having a little fun and releasing some of your stress.

***

While the rest of the camp slept soundly at the Last Light Inn, you you found yourself tip toeing out into the night. Placing the pixies bell in your pocket, just in case, you walked on the outskirts of the safe haven, until you found the make-shift bridge made from rocks. You leaped across, being cautious to not slip and fall into the rushing water below. 

As you entered the Shadow Cursed lands, you cautiously made your way up the stairs, hand on your weapon just in case. You approached the abandoned house, the perfect size for 

“Hello?” You called out, hoping and praying no one else was there.

You approach the bedroom, pulling back the heavy curtain that took the place of the door. Gale was already lying on the bed in his camp clothes, a small candle burning on the nightstand next to him.

“Ah, there you are.” He said, sitting up on the mattress and standing to greet you. “I was starting to worry the Shadow Curse had gotten you.”

You reach in your pocket and show off the pixie’s bell as you stand in front of him. Your heart beats a little faster in your chest — it’s been a while since you’ve done anything like this. Would tonight make you feel satiated? Or regretful?

“A wise choice.” He commended as you stuffed it away. “You never know what dastardly creatures could be out here, you know.”

“What, like you?”

“Precisely.”

He wasted absolutely no time, leaning in to press his lips against yours. He kissed you feverishly, like a starving dog lunging for a piece of raw meat. You could taste the fine wine from dinner left on his lips, and you felt yourself slowly getting drunk off him. Your knees grew weak as you feel his hands rest at your hips, your desire slowly starting to build between your legs.

You rested your hands at the nape of his neck, a shaky sigh escaping his mouth as your fingertips trailed down his spine. Hells, you knew the man was touch-starved, but you didn’t realize how badly…

You nibbled at his lower lip, enticing a soft moan from the wizard, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. He pulls you closer to him, and you can feel his arousal straining through his trousers, begging to be freed.

He broke the kiss, panting heavily. “Lie back.”

You followed his command, falling back on the soft mattress as you gazed upon his face in the candlelight. 

Dare you say, he looked very handsome kneeling in between your legs.

His fingers made light work of your trousers, untying the laces and pulling them off swiftly to reveal your underclothes. He placed a soft kiss on the thin fabric, playfully nudging at your clit with his nose, sending a dull wave of pleasure rolling through your body. You heard him breathe in deeply, taking you for a bit of a surprise as you propped up on your elbows to watch him.

“Getting a whiff of my natural musk, are you?” 

Gale let out a light chuckle, tugging off your underwear with his teeth to expose your fragrant heat to him. “Darling, there’s nothing I need more.”

Lifting your legs to rest on top of his shoulders, his mouth is on you in an instant. He couldn’t wait another moment, he had to taste you now.

You feel his wet tongue delving between your folds, lapping hungrily at your essence. Your fingers snake through his locks and grip tightly, the coils already tightening in your lower belly. Gods, how long had it been since anyone had touched you like this, let alone tasted you? You weren’t sure, getting lost in the divine sensation of Gale burying his face in you.

Whatever he was doing with his tongue must be enchanted, the way he’s making you feel right now.

Your breath hitched as you sensed two of his fingers toying at your entrance, his brown eyes looking to yours for permission. You nodded, biting your lip, as he gently pushed them inside you. A moan slipped from your lips, enticing him to move his fingers faster, more rapidly, as your eyes rolled back in your head.

Gods, this is too fucking good, you thought, tightening your grip in his hair and almost pulling Gale out from between your legs.

But the wizard was much stronger, the fingers of his free hand wrapped around your hip and keeping you in place. His ministrations continued as you felt him suckle at your clit, your hips bucking his face in response.

“Gale…” you moan softly, afraid that even though you were out of earshot, the others would still hear you.

His mouth moved away from your folds, “Yes, dear? What is it?”

The ache in between your legs intensified. His two fingers thrusting inside your sex weren’t enough to satisfy you. 

No, you needed all of him.

“I need you. Inside me.” You stammered, embarrassed to beg for him out loud.

“Ah ah, use your words,” he demanded, his fingers slipping out of you. “Tell me, what do you want?”

“You…your cock.” You confessed, bashfully.

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing your sex one final time. “Eager, aren’t we?”

His hands move to both your thighs, lifting them from his shoulders and pushing them back onto your chest. He stood over you, quickly stripping himself of his camp clothes. You watched him intently, your eyes gazing upon his form. He was lean, but fit, almost as if you were looking at the body of a God. With the sigil in his chest glowing bright, it would be easy to mistake him for one.

As you watched him slip off his trousers, you were a little shocked at how... well endowed Gale was. You had a feeling he would be, but to see it with your own two eyes was quite the treat.

He held on to the base of his cock, stroking it as he lined himself up to your slick entrance. He looked to you, searching for your consent to sink himself in you.

You don't hesitate, nodding quickly, nearly pleading with him to fuck you already.

His slowly slides himself in your wetness, both of you letting out a delighted sigh as the two of you became one. His hands grabbed your hips, digging into the flesh as he sheathes himself in you. He didn't break his gaze with you for a single moment, his eyes growing darker the deeper he went.

"Don't be gentle," you whisper as he fills you entirely for the first time.

He lets out a groan, his breath hot with desire.

You hear him mutter something under his breath, but before you can make out what he said, he leans down, pressing a kiss on your forehead before he thrusts himself back out, only to snap his hips into yours with full force.

Nine Hells, he's like an animal.

You cry out as he pounds you relentlessly, skin slapping on your sensitive nub over and over again. The same magic that enchanted his mouth and fingers must have been at work again, the way he nearly had you at your climax so quickly. He knew it too, a small smile forming at his open lips as he reached for a clothed breast, wrinkling your shirt even further as he kneads it in his hand.

Your eyes closed tight as you turned your head away, the pleasure taking you to a different realm entirely. Sweat rolled down his brow as he continued to rock into you, his hands moved to cradle your face and spinning it back to face him.

"Look at me," he ordered, "I want to see you fall apart."

You locked eyes with him as the coils in your lower belly continued to tighten, your body beginning to shake as the hot white feeling welled up, begging to explode. He kept on hitting that sweet spot deep within you, over and over again...

You took his thumb in your teeth as he rubbed it against your lips, sucking on the digit as your eyes still focused on him. You felt his hips began to stutter, he was close to his own release. Your teeth scraped against the pad of his thumb, inciting a gasp from his lips as he bucked in response.

Oh, hells, you were done for.

You felt your walls quiver around him as you finally gave in to your climax, hot waves of pleasure coursing through your body as your vision went blurry. Gale's thumb slipped out of your mouth as he felt you around him, pulling himself out of you as you felt his hot seed pooling on your lower stomach.

The two of you panted loudly as you came down from your conjoined release, holding each other's gaze. His eyes were no longer darkened by lust, but looked rather... warm. As if he was looking upon a long lost lover.

The thought made your cheeks flush for a moment, but you quickly shook the feeling away. You didn't have time for romance, for relationships, not with the fear of ceremorphosis at the front of your mind. Removing the mind flayer tadpole was your only priority.

And yet... the thought of Gale holding you close at night didn't seem like the worst possible outcome.

"Are you all right, dear?" He asked, brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

"I'm fine," you replied, leaning your head in the palm of his hand. "That was... wonderful."

He smiled, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb reverently.

"But don't forget, this stays between us, all right? Keep it on the down low."

"On the lowest, darling." He smiled, moving his hand to create an X over the orb in his chest. "You have my word."

***

“Thou hast now a bosom companion.” The voice of Withers wakes you from your slumber with a jolt. “Take care that thou art not distracted on thy quest, seeking the comforts of the flesh.”

A moment passes between the two of you. You’re wondering as to why Withers was standing right above your tent, let alone why he would seek you out in the first place.

Then, the words of his message become clear in your mind.

“… excuse me?” You ask, bewildered as to how he would know what happened between you and Gale the night before, especially when they weren't even at camp when it happened.

“Recall that in time, all becomes dust and bone.”

Without another cryptic word, Withers turns and stalks away, leaving you alone to your very confused thoughts. There was only one response you could give to him:

“… okay, Bone Man.”

#mythrae writes #baldurs gate gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #wizard of waterdeep #bg3 #bg3 gale #baldur’s gate gale #bg3 gale smut #bg3 smut

[mustanggg]

(Rick finds you hiding out in an abandoned building trying to drown your sorrows at the bottom of a bottle)

A/N: bare with me, am still a new to this :)

Warnings: smut

It’s a warm day. You snuck of from the prison into the woods as the first rays of sunlight kissed the sky. It isn’t your first time sneaking off from the prison, finding peace in the solitude of the trees and your little hideout in a near by town. As far as you knew no one knew about your haven. You were always careful not to leave trails and to be sure you weren’t followed, opting to track different ways to get to your destination to be completely sure.

It was here at the very same haven where you were currently holed up, bottle of Jack in hand. It was about a quarter way through the bottle and you first started to feel numb. All the grief and guilt ebbing away the more you drank.

It was only yesterday a run for more supplies had gone wrong and as a consequence of new people joining the group and participating in the run your brother paid the price for their incompetence.

Riley. Gone but never forgotten. Everyone loved him. Everyone got along with him. He pulled his weight. Provided for everyone and helped keep everyone safe. Yet you sit here, barely tipsy and painfully reminisce over his memories.

Sighing you bring the bottle to your lips and go to take another chug when you hear the back door to your hideout creak open. You know you should have been worried and on alert about the possibility of it being hostile strangers but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. So instead you scull down the burning liquid of bourbon and placidly await your fate, whatever it may be.

Turning in the direction of footsteps nearing, your body completely relaxed, you wait for them to round the corner.

Even in your surprised state, you couldn’t bring yourself to move as you took in the sweaty and heaving leader of your group Rick Grimes towering over you as he searched you for injuries. Finding none he slightly relaxes and tilts his head as he studies you.

“What are you doing?” He breaks the silence first as you continue to just blink at him, offering no emotion at his unexpected arrival.

Shrugging nonchalantly you bring the bottle back to your lips and scull down more of the liquid, feeling a little trickle down your chin and into your cleavage. Turning your attention back to Rick you notice his eyes follow the trail before the snap back to yours, almost guiltily.

“Nothin. How’d you find me?” You question. Ready to take another drink in order to avoid this confrontation. Yet before the bottle can successfully reach your lips again Rick is kneeling in front of you and grasps it, prying it from your hands.

“Hey!” You weakly protest, going to retrieve it. Yet Rick just simply moves out your reach. You watch him stand and walk away with your bottle, placing it on the bench on the other side of the little room you currently reside in.

“I’ve known about your sneaking off tendencies. Followed you one day to this place. Wanted to make sure you were okay. Was worried about you,” he drawls as he plops down beside you.

“Worried.. about me?” You question as though it made no sense, which in your state it didn’t.

“Course. When you couldn’t be found, I offered to come out to look for you. Knew you’d come here. Grieve in peace,” he looks to you as he speaks softly, as though your an injured animal ready to bolt.

You don’t reply. Don’t meet his eyes as you fiddle with your fingers. This wasn’t a conversation you wanted to be having. You just wanted to drown your sorrows and forget about everything for the day. Mind made up you make a move to stand and retrieve the bottle before Ricks hand latches to your wrist and pulls you back.

“Don’t. It’s only a temporary solution but in the long run it won’t change nothing. Ain’t worth it,” he tries to reason with you but you’re so over being reasonable. You just want to forget.

“Maybe. But that’s my decision to make, not yours,” you snap at him. Still he barely reacts apart from tightening his grip, determined to keep you away from the bottle. “Please,” you whisper softly.

Hearing a noise emit from the back of his throat you think you’ve won before he tugs on the wrist in his grip and pulls you into his side, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace. In shock you just sit there, surrounding by his muscle and smell and slowly start to relax.

“I know it’s hard. You miss him. Not a day will go by without you thinking of him but it will get easier. But you have to let yourself feel his absence before it consumes you. Let it hurt. Let me help you,” Rick whispers into your hair.

Tensing up you think about pulling away before you feel his arms tighten around you and his thumb absentmindedly stroke your upper arm as his words sink.

No matter how much you trusted Rick, you refused to allow yourself to feel the torment of emotions in front him. Bare that weakness to anyone. So you find the strength and pull out of his grasp, finally turning to meet his eyes.

“Go,” is the only word whispered into the air and Rick looks at you confused. “Leave,” you try again when he doesn’t budge.

Steeling himself he prepares to respond before you push against his chest. “Get out of here.”

“No,” he determinedly answers. “I’m here for you. Let me help you.”

“I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyones help! What do you want from me? You want me to cry? Well it’s not going to happen. Just get out of here! Why the hell do you even care? You’ve never showed any affection for me or anyone else before. Why start now?” You’re on the verge of shouting as you repeatedly push at his chest, frustrated Ricks just sitting there allowing you to.

“Because I’m in love you!” Rick interrupts your torment as he raises his voice. “Why do you think I go through the trouble of following you, to make sure your safe? Confiscating the bottle and trying to be here for you?”

Shocked into silence you pause, hands resting against his chest as you stare wide eyed at him. He was in love with you?

“Let me help you,” he pleads again. As he goes to open his mouth to say something else you surprise each other as you push forward and connect his lips with yours.

Rick hesitates before moving against you as he places his hands either side of your face lovingly, almost gently. Your lips move gently against one another before you shuffle closer and press yours against him harder with a moan. Your hands slide into the curls at the bottom of his neck and you tug, emitting a groan from Rick which you use to your advantage and slip you tongue into his mouth.

Feeling confidence from the alcohol and his responses to you, you climb into his lap, pressing your chest against his as you break away for air. “What are you doing?” He whispers as he rests his forehead against yours.

Choosing not to respond, you peck his lips before sliding your lips over his cheek and down along his scruff before you reach his neck. Placing kisses along his neck you bite into the skin, becoming aroused at the throaty groan he lets loose as he tilts his head to the side to give you more access.

“Stop. This isn’t right. Your emotions are out of control and you’ve been drinking,” he breathes weakly yet still doesn’t make any moves to actually stop you.

Removing yourself from his neck you lean back slightly and look him in the eye as you ask. “Do you want me to stop? Stop this?” You kiss his neck again before you bite down. Even harder. His responding groan and hands sliding to your hips to grip gives you the answer you need to continue your assault against his neck.

Underneath you can feel him becoming hard. The bulge and his groans cause you to give an experimental thrust against him. In response his breath hitches against you as you moan softly at the friction. Hearing his sexy voice and feeling him growing underneath you has soaked your panties. Want for this gorgeous man underneath you, at your mercy grows. Makes you unbutton and unzip your jeans before you grab one of his hands and shove it down the front of your pants into your panties, where from there he needs no more encouragement before his fingers begin to explore your mound.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,”he groans as his finger circles you nub, causing you to thrust against his bulge.

Hearing your moans he delicately shoves a finger inside you, moving slowly before you whine. “More Rick. Faster.”

Growling at your pleas he shoves another finger inside you to his knuckles and stills. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Refusing to answer you show him. Lifting yourself up and falling back down, riding his fingers as you chase your own orgasm. Transfixed Rick just watched you ride his fingers, watches your chest heave with your pants and moans slipping out. Before he grips you to a stop and thrusts into you harder then before, curling your fingers to hit that special spot inside you.

“Oh… oh my gosh, Rick. Yes… yes right there,” at your encouragement he speeds up his thrusts and continues to hit that spot repeatedly.

“Jesus I love the way you moan my name,” he groans as he watches your face contort with pleasure, eyes shut tightly.

Feeling your walls begin to flutter around his fingers he quickens his pace once more, causing you to squeal before he crashes you lips against yours to swallow them.

Walls gripping him tightly he leaves your lips to hold you tight against him as he sensually whispers into your ear. “Come for me baby. Come all over my fingers,” and his words is all it takes for you to fall over the edge, coating his fingers.

He continues to thrust as you ride out your orgasm, prolonging it before he pulls softly out and brings his soaked fingers to his lips, groaning at the taste.

Panting you collapse against him. “That’s one way to help me forget,” you remark against his chest as you try to catch your breath.

As you fight for you breath, content against him you feel his hard length underneath you. “Let me help you with that,” you purr as you work on undoing his belt and buckle.

Rick goes to protest, not expecting anything, but his words die on his tongue when you pull start to pull his boxers and pants down, looking up expectedly. Lifting up a little Rick helps you manoeuvre his jeans down to his knees, his length springing out. He quietly watches as you take him in your hands as you kneel beside him, stroking him slowly up and down.

Head falling against the wall behind him his eyes shut at the feel of your hand wrapped around him. Using the advantage of his eyes closed you tighten your grip a little and continued to stroke him as you listen to his low groans as you worked to silently manoeuvre yourself out of your jeans and pantries.

“Fuck,” he sighs at the pleasure. Eyes still closed he wants to beg for you to go faster when he feels you climb back onto his lap and continue to stroke him.

Confused, Rick ignores it as he succumbs to the feeling of your hands stroking him torturously. About to beg you to speed up his eyes snap open and groans loudly into the room at the sudden unexpected feeling of your walls swallowing around him, hips jerking up into you in surprise, causing you to yelp in pleasure.

“Fuckkk, baby. You’re so fucking tight wrapped around my cock,” Rick strangles out into the air, hands gripping your hips as you sink all the way down. You both moan out at the feeling of bottoming out.

Resting your hands on his shoulders you slowly lift up, leaving just his tip inside before you slam back down, moaning out loud as you listen to his growl of pleasure. Repeating the same motion over and over you feel yourself slowly edge towards the relief you’re chasing.

As you go to sink back down Rick suddenly grabs you hips and stills you. Confused you begin to beg. “ Rick plea- aw fuckk,” you yell as he plants his feet and jackhammers into you, balls slapping against your ass.

The brutal thrusts and growls dripping from Ricks lips begins you closer and closer to your orgasm. “I-ah.. I’m-lm gonna come,” you whine when he drops his legs and places his hands on your ass to help lift you up and down on him.

“Come baby, ride me harder. Come all over all over my cock. Fuck” Rick growls as he feels his own orgasm on the horizon.

One particular thrust back down has your walls squeezing around him as your explode, stars igniting behind your eye lids as you collapse but Rick continues to bounce you on him as he chases his own orgasm.

As you bottom out one last time Ricks chest rumbles with his animalistic groan as he spills into you, thighs shaking.

As you both ride out your highs slumped against one another you lift of Rick, wincing as he slips out and curl up beside him. Panting you unexpectedly begin to laugh. Rick, spent just rolls his head to look at you confused.

“Thank you. That’s one heck of a way for being here for me,” you wink. Smiling softly, Rick tucks a hair behind your ear.

“I love you,” he breathes as you nuzzle into his palm. Deep down accepting and understanding right now you couldn’t voice those words. Yet Rick made a vow to himself to always continue to be there for you anyway you need and make you fall hopelessly in love with him.

#rick grimes smut #twd rick #rick grimes #smut

[dreams-of-wings]

A Million Dreams

A collection of all the good and bad times

Warnings: Mentions of/implied abuse

Let it be known, I predominantly use mobile.

Awkward beginnings

It was weird between you and Carlos at first, your friendship was kinda sudden, not really something either of you were prepared for. It took a while for Carlos to get used to coming into your room when you were at the warehouse. He just kinda thought of it as 'that's your space, and he needs to respect it,' so at the beginning he would knock of the doorframe and wait for you to say it was okay for him to come in before entering.

-------------------------------------------------------

He may not say it outloud, but he does appreciate having you in his life - it gives him something to do, and a safe haven to return to when the outside world just becomes too much. He starts scavenging when you aren't around to make sure the both of you have a proper stash of snacks. From what he understands, the warehouse isn't actually your home- you live elsewhere with your father, whose name he has yet to learn. Sometimes you don't come back for days at a time and it leaves him on edge everytime. Is this it? Have you abandoned him? What if you don't come back? Sure he can adopt this place as his own, but what if you come back and he's no longer welcome? He gets really excited to see you, and acts surprised everytime you assure him that it's okay if he stays.

The bad times

They say nothing can bring people closer together than tragedy, and they would be right.

You called Carlos your friend, but you hadn't really seen him as a friend till that first time you came into the warehouse to find silence. You had called for Carlos, but there was no answer, so you figured that perhaps he just wasnt here yet. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you found him huddled in the middle of your blankets a pillows.

"Carlos?" Your brows furrowed with worry. You could see his shoulders shaking slightly and his breathing was somewhat erratic, "Carlos...?

Once you were slice enough to him you kneeled down to his level and put a hand on his shoulder, "Hey."

For the second time withing the matter of minutes you were surprised again - Carlos whipped around and wrapped his arms around you, and it was ever obvious now that he was sobbing, "Carlos, what's wrong??"

You returned the hug, holding him tightly and leaning your head against the side of his as he hid his face in the side of your neck - not minding all the hair. He didn't answer you for a while, but you were smokey with that, he would tell you when he was ready.

When his sobbing had stopped, his breathing had calmed, and he stopped shaking, you thought you would try again, "Carlos?"

"Why does she hate me so much?"

You blinked from shock. What? Who? You felt some tears begin to brim on the corners of your eyes, having a feeling you knew who he was talking about, but the thought of anyone hating Carlos stirred something in you, and it made you more sad than you thought it would, "Who hates you, Carlos?" You kept your voice soft, afraid that if you raised it any higher than a whisper, he might retreat.

"My mom..." his voice cracked at the end, and it felt like your heart shattered. He sounded so hurt, so vulnerable, and you could be more pissed off. It took a lot of restraint for you to keep your hair from bursting into a plume of blue flames like it had the day you met, you both didn't want to burn him -unsure of how the flames would react to skin that wasn't your own- and you didn't like how drained you felt after using them. You put your hands on both his shoulders and pulled back to get a good look at him, "Carlos, what did she do?"

He didn't- couldn't look at you, so instead he kept his eyes to the ground and just shook his head. You brought him back in for a hug and quietly shushed him, "It's okay, you dint have to tell me now..."

Whether is be because he was ashamed or embarrassed, he never did actually tell you, but it wasnt hard to figure out what was wrong when he came to the warehouse with red welts here and there.

-------------------------------------------------------

Living on the isle was hard, it was easy to see that the first time you and Carlos met- hack, it was easy to see that in the grey and dreary look the island naturally had. It became normal for the two of you to go up onto the roof of the warehouse and look out past the old shabby buildings and toward the sea.

"You ever wonder about out there?" Carlos was the first the first to break the silence, causing you to turn and look at him. He hadn't turned to face you, so you returned your gaze to the ocean, "Sometimes, but all I picture is more of this," you gestured to the rotting buildings most people here called home.

Carlos' brows furrowed and he turned his head to look at you, "Auradon doesn't look like this."

"You've been?" You scooted closer, sounding a bit excited as you watched him hopefully.

"Well no... But I have seen the castle on TV!"

You raised a brow at him, your father didn't keep a TV in 'the lair', he always said they showed nothing but garbage, so he scrapped it.

"It's always so bright, and colorful," he continued, "Nothing like the houses we have here on the island."

AUTHORS NOTE:

It's been a while since I posted something. I jist want to let you all know that these last few posts are just me cleaning out my drafts.... I've been active for a very long time, but I held on to everything hoping I would regain the muses I once had for these stories. Unfortunately, I haven't and I don't think I ever will. This story and many others, will remain unfinished, and this blog will officially fall inactive till further notice. Though, I will keep it up so my stories will always be here for you all to read if you wish. I'm not going to promise I'll come back to it as I don't like making promises I can't keep. Sorry for the long wait and disappointing results, but I really did have fun writing stories for you all while the inspiration lasted. Hágoónee'! (Goodbye)

#descendants #descendants 2 #descendants 3 #descendants oc #descendants inagine #descendants x reader #can be interpreted as #carlos de vil x reader #carlos de vil imagine #carlos de vil #or #platonic carlos x reader #whatever you prefer really #Takes place before going to Auradon

[authorkun]

[𝙎𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙡 𝙈𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙖𝙘] (003-1/2)

𝙎𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚,

The whole 1000+ plus years he had lived, love wasn't apart of the equation. He wasn't capable of such a thing. Well, that's what he believed anyways. Many others would have agreed. A monster like him could have never had a heart.

Until he met him...

The ghost of a smile that played off his lips

The way he cared for him.

A book that always seemed to be in his grasp

Even the way he had called out his name felt different. "Sukuna!"

The aura that surrounded him felt intoxicating, no, it felt addictively refreshing. Sukuna could never seem to leave.

The thing that drew him in the most was that he was never scared of what the curse was. 

A Monster

But no matter how many threats, or how many times Sukuna had come back drenched in the blood of a massacre, he always stayed. Whenever he questioned why he stayed around the answer was always the same, "When I look at you, I never see the monstrosity that you claim to be. I only see a man, a man who has his morals like everyone else in this world. The weight of good and bad sits at the feet of the beholder. If you are damned to that title, why haven't you killed me yet?"

The question he would often ask himself at times. Why did he stay? This man was only a mere human, he was just like the rest. That's where his mind would travel else where, and start spiraling into more confusion. Something always seemed to drag him back to the male. Almost like a magnet pulling him towards the other.

________________________________________________

                                                -1000+ years ago

________________________________________________

The small gust of wind caused the small pink petals dance around,  the spring had just arrived bringing the end of winter's coldness. Faint humming and the light taps of footsteps filled the silence. A tall male dressed in a navy blue kimono continued his path, head held low reading the delicate writing in the book. 

His stroll was throughout the large garden that accompanied the abandoned palace. He had found the place a few years before, when he was journeying through the woods. When he stumbled upon the building, large vines and patches of moss had overgrown over the once majestic palace.

The garden in the back, the same state. In his mind he thought it was the perfect place to call home and started to clean the place. The overgrown garden now prosperous cleared of any impurities. It was his pride and joy. Though, hidden from sight, the palace made him feel at peace contradicting the chaos which had raged on outside. The walls kept it hidden from peeking eyes and was perfect for isolating everything precious inside. That's the exact reason why when, the king of curses had lain his sights on the enclosed space it was his. 

Shortly after braking into the palace, he had met the 'owner'. The two's encounter was filled with Sukuna's threats of certain death, and the stranger's unbothered expression. 

The damned expression pissed Sukuna off to no end. But with that anger also brought something else. A sense of  peacefulness he hadn't felt since he was human himself.  

Little did he know that strange feeling would grow into something else towards the male. Every time he would see him strolling through the stone lined path a ghost of a smile would grace his features.

Usually he would join his walk while the other would read aloud the words of great scholars. Today wasn't any different. The curse was covered head to toe in blood, as the clicks of his heels echoed the empty hall. 

Walking to the entrance to the paradise like garden, he was met with the sight of his companion draped across the grass next to a small pond.  A satisfied grin painting his face. 

"You know, I don't think your poor kimono can take anymore trauma." He teased tossing his book aside. "Come on." He had grabbed onto Sukuna's wrist and dragged him toward a The bath house. 

Timeskip

After cleaning himself up, the male had suggested a walk through the garden. The sun was about setting, the hues of red and orange reminded him of paintings he had seen before. Almost surreal. 

The two had stopped at a small patch of grass. Sitting down next to each other enjoying the other's company as they continued to watch the sun disappear behind the clouds. The moon starting to become visible.

The sudden warmth of a hand brought Sukuna's attention towards the male next to him. Slightly nudging his cheek farther into the warmth that contrasted the slight chilliness the spring air brought. "I have a confession to make." The words rung through his head.

"I don't think I can hide it much longer. I care for you Ryomen. I hold a dear place for you in my heart." The sudden confession sent waves of emotions crashing down on the cursed king. 

His hand laced with the one on top of his face. "As do I. But do humor me, why fall for a murderer like me?"

"Of the time we've spent together, I've only seen you. How many sins you've committed, has never crossed my definition of you." The same smile, Sukuna had seen millions of times, once again was plastered. His tone was sincere and caring, never a hint of hatred or false truth crossing. With that, the couple had connected their lips. For the first time, a strange comforting feeling filled the curse's chest.

_______________________________________________

'Tap'

'Tap'

'Tap'

Blood was painted everywhere. Everywhere he looked the ominous color was splattered across the floors and walls. The soft clicks of his shoes were the only sound that echoed the halls of the enormous estate. 

The estate which was always filled with his humming, or his anxious footsteps pattering the floor. Now, it seemed empty. When they both lived there it had always seemed smaller than it truly was. Now, the palace seemed more to its size. Flashes of memories came and went as Sukuna stared at the body lain across the wooden floors. The gruesome mutilation wasn’t what had disturbed him. No.

It was whom the body belonged to, that brought the evident hunger of grief that started taking over him. It was him. His lover, the one he had tried so hard to hide from the peeving eyes of everyone else lain across the floor, dead. Sukuna hadn't known when he had collapsed, or when he held the dead body of his spouse in his arms, or even the moment he had started crying. All he knew was revenge.

The blood hadn't just stain his hands, the scene was burned into his mind. The scarring sight etched into his memory. 'BAM' his fist collided with the floorboards creating a hole. An anguish filled scream echoed the Forrest surrounding the once safe haven for the couple.

'They will not make a fool out of the king of curse's. Much less make a fool out of his beloved.' 

That night he had destroyed every village in a 20 mile radius, his carnage truly a symbol of his power and grief sent as a warning. That night was when Sukuna's reason for mercy had disappeared, and so had his final thread of humanity.

A Legend among the shamen who had learned about the infamous curse's destruction, was that the body of his beloved still sleeps in a garden. Though overgrown throughout the years, A field of Lily's are said to be planted in honor for the male hidden in the mountains far from view.

To whom it may concern, the name of the beloved is . . .

L/n M/n

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#jujustu kaisen #seme male reader #male reader #jjk #jjk itadori #jjk nobara #jjk sukuna #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #top male reader #sukuna x male reader #itadori x male reader #gojo satoru x male reader

[mrskurono]

a/n: the second chapter! This was going to be longer but I decided to divide it up into two for ease of reading. Gege gives us no canon idea yet so who knows if any of this is right word count: 2k tags: post!Shibuya arc, takes place during this current arc in the manga, I can’t say manga spoilers bc we don’t know what’s going on, Culling Game content character(s): Noritoshi Kamo, fem!sorcerer reader pt l

No lie when you descended the mountain side from the empty temple. 

In fact you had never seen so many cots and sleeping arrangements in one place. Every piece of floor under Kamo name seemed to have a pair of feet on it. Most of them not even familiar with the grounds. Many of them found outside in this mess just like you had been. All of them proclaiming thanks to the young heir who'd shepherded them to this safe haven at least.

Displaced. And taken in without question. Noritoshi truthfully wasn't lying. At least about this.

Among those rescued were bunches of children. Someone knowing where their parents were. And some less fortunate. When a group of them who'd been seen without a parent or guardian since you came, were circled around a little girl who'd tripped. You found a moment of purpose to help when everything else was in disarray. 

Wiping clean your hands on the backs of your pants after helping get the smudge of dirt off the little girls knees. And assure the rest of the kids that there was no blood and no one was going to get them. They were put at ease and acting more like rowdy kids as they began to go their own way once again. You don't quite hear what the cluster of kids said when they run off in the opposite direction. Unaware of most things but what was right in front of them after you consoled them. 

Instead of what was right in front of you, your eyes drift up towards the same thing you had been staring at every day since descending down the hill.

"It got bigger."

More than just caught off guard. You whip around to the semi familiar voice behind you. Noritoshi, with his arms crossed under the sleeves of his robes as he leans into the side of the doorway the kids originally tripped through. He was looking exactly at what you were as well. Looming over most of the city and Kyoto countryside was an eye sore more than just a new building. 

A blotch along the skyline. 

Devoid of light and overshadowing everything else. Even at high noon it felt like days had become dimmer since that thing blossomed into existence. Just like the rank stench of a curse. Whatever that thing was left your nostrils burning and skin crawling.

Noritoshi pushed off the door frame and straightened back up, "Do you have a moment?"

"Seems that's all I have these last few days." You retort to your host. Gracious as he was. The past two days felt nothing short of cabin fever from feeling so useless amongst the uncertainty. Not as humorous about it as you seemed to be. You redact your comment and answer him, "Yeah what?"

Still facing up towards the nameless bubble that overtook much of Kyoto, Noritoshi came beside you to clear his throat and lower his voice, "I was wondering if you gave anymore thought to what I told you."

Your eyebrow arched up, "That I can kill you if you lied to me?" The Kamo family head was not amused again so you folded your arms and stiffened up a little, "That sounded like gibberish. How am I suppose to believe anything you said when communications are basically down."

"The heads of the family have always been in contact," Noritoshi drew his attention away from the looming threat and back onto you, "The clans existed before the elders even. Besides, we were allotted more direct information today."

"Ok?" 

"I'd like to that to show you."

This sounded like a favor being disguised as something else. You hold onto your breath unsure what was in the best interest of you or anyone at this point. All you really knew was everything stunk like a persistent curse and you wanted it to end.

"Why aren't the clans working together then?" You poise a real question any sane thinking human would come up with. While equipped to deal with curses you did not feel equipped to deal with the politics of it all. 

A grimace on his face unlike the one the day before, "Things are....less than ideal."

"Really?"

Noritoshi wasn't delighted with your tone.

You sigh and decide against anything to self serving at his expense, "Fine. If it means possibly keeping everyone safe then what is it?"

That caught him slightly off guard, "What about yourself?" Noritoshi asked frankly.

Of course you scowl that someone from one of the clans would ask that, "I didn't become a Jujutsu Sorcerer to keep myself safe."

Admirable. He had to nod to that. Turning away quickly when he beckoned you to follow him back towards the innards of the Kamo estate.

Unlike the last time you were invited into what could only be described as a mock situations room. That had been involving dirty stares from a handful of men you didn't know or even heard of. And your credentials as a sorcerer scrutinized even in a time of panic when you thought help would be welcomed with open arms. Apparently the clans firmly held onto the idea that those serving themselves was severing everyone around them. You objectiably had different ideas about sorcery. 

Thankfully unlike last time when you had to deal with a room full of stuffy mindsets. You were surprised but worried to find no one awaiting to tell you that you couldn't be in there. 

What was there happened to be a jumble of papers, or what could constitute as a jumble, and two chairs pulled away from the table. Something about the urgency of such a small meeting left your skin crawling seeing the mess. Unease not worn often on your exterior. You looked around at the papers on the table and no one going over them.

"What is this?" You pick up the first few on the top with what appeared to be Noritoshi's hand writing all over them. Most of it seemed like chicken scratch saved for one word you picked out of the bunch, "Culling? What? What is this?"

Somber look on his pale features left Noritoshi gathering his thoughts like he was doing to the papers strewn out, "The heads of the family received more information on what those things seem to be connected to."

"Why aren't you discussing this with your clan then?" 

A pause from the man next to you, "...it seems alliances are already being formed."

Your brows pinch together leaving you to search for more of the papers on the table for an explanation, "Alliances? Alliances of what? What does this have to do with the giant stink ball in Kyoto? Or the curses? What does this have to do with what you told me yesterday about the Shibuya incident report?"

Something unfamiliar on the Sorcerer's face. You hadn't seen it yet. Something accustomed to worry crept onto Noritoshi and he handed you one piece of paper yet to make it into your grasp, "You couldn't have any idea working independently. That's why I asked you to come look these over. I just...I need someone to tell me they're reading this like I am."

Swelling your chest with a deep breath. You snatch the paper from him with a skeptical look once over. Whatever could be conjured up to add worse news to the unleashed curses rampaging across Japan. You held your breath with your eyes scanning it over. Feeling the air in you slowly draw out. Just as you finished the last few sentences. Suddenly you understood what could have made this worse.

"...it wants us to die..." Hands clammy and grasping for another deep breath, you read over the part again about the nineteen day warning. 

No, it wasn't a warning. This was an outright threat.

You shake your head trying to count the days that had melded together in your mind since everything went haywire, "That means...well, one...two...four-"

"Every Jujutsu Sorcerer has two weeks," Noritoshi having already done the math tipped his head down to scan the table for something. He took the deep breath you just couldn't seem to get a hold of. He grabbed for a paper tucked under pens and you watch them roll and scatter away from him, "...As of yesterday I may have sent a small handful of Kamo members to check the site out."

"Before you go this information?"

Noritoshi nodded, "I got this only an hour ago." He focused on the paper in front of him, "There were five sorcerers sent....and none of them have contacted me since they left."

Rightfully so you didn't like where this was going.

"I need to go look for them...I can't leave people to die like this." Noritoshi, though most the time calm and without a crack to his facade, faced you with both his eyes open and a waiver to his tone, "Will you come with me? Please, if something is going to happen to other sorcerers I can't let them be a victim of my own faults."

Much like the confrontation when you both ran into each other in the abandoned temple. This request left you at odds with your choices. Like coming with him or staying up at the temple alone. You could go with him. Or you could tell him no.

No meant possibly saving your own hide. But thinking about what those papers said, well, saving yourself seemed to mean nothing with a countdown. Only slight extension of the inevitable.

"Who will stay here to watch the civilians then?" A real concern you saw with non sorcerers piled into one place. The buffet for a curse or two that might catch a whiff of the displaced humans.

"I have sorcerers stationed here. With a single grade two member and a handful of semi-grade two sorcerers." Noritoshi had planned straticigally even before knowing everything that came into light, "You're at least a semi-grade one I take it."

The assumption irked you as you hadn't divulged anything yet to him for the sake of keeping as many tokens stacked in your favor, "....something like that, I suppose."

"Then we should be ok for any curses if we're careful."

"And why ask me instead of one of your own?"

"Because...." Noritoshi dropped his gaze down to the mess in front of him, "...I can trust someone who has no ties to the clans." He stopped and looked at you, "You'll kill me if I'm lying, which means more people will be safe if in fact sorcerers are turning on people."

He was right. About killing him. Not once had the thought left since being on high alert during all of this. If everything you read on those notes were right then going alone was suicide. For either of you.

"...One promise," You firmly demand. Noritoshi remains silent but nods. Finally with a deep breath you find your calm, "...neither of us go in that thing until the eighteenth day. Even if your members already went into it."

He held out on your words for a moment. Either mulling them over or finding something to make you promise. Finally Noritoshi spoke up, "...what happens on the eighteenth day then?"

What would happen? You could see if this set of rules was a bluff or you could comply. Either outcome seemed grim with little control for anyone at all. Faux hope with what you said next.

"On the eighteenth day we both go in." You said somberly, "I'll go in with you and anyone else you deem trustworthy enough." 

For a second it looked like he was going to carry on about something. But there was one thing you had to remind him to see crystal clear about all this.

Stepping close to the sorcerer your voice lowers and you make him look at you, "...I will kill you if you're lying. That promise still stands. Either you're on my side or your not....culling game or not, I won't let someone rule over me. Got it?"

Maybe he was getting use to it. Or perhaps Noritoshi believed you both to be truthfully on the same side now. He gave a nod and didn't falter, "I expect nothing else from the angel of death I met on the mountain side."

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen writing #jjk #jjk writing #kamo noritoshi #noritoshi kamo #jjk noritoshi #jjk x reader #noritoshi x reader #noritoshi kamo x reader #kamo noritoshi x reader

[ficstoreadagain]

Heroes and Fools // Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Prompt taken from this list 

Summary: Reader is a badass, could be considered a little cocky, some might even say reckless. Izuku has had a crush on her for a while, but he’s teetering on the edge of the L-word. Basically, he’s a simp and thinks (Y/N) hung the moon. 

This is written more from his point of view as he observes the reader just fyi 

__

Another day, another villain attack (as is the life of Hero Course, class 1-A), and with your backs against the wall someone had to come up with a plan. A plan to get past the villains and reunite with the other half of the class, and furthermore to hopefully survive until the pros arrived. 

And with villains rapidly closing in and pro heroes unaware of your predicament as far as the class knew, that’s exactly what you did- even if it was admittedly a tad impulsive. You had full confidence it would work, or at least your smile was assured enough to make it seem that way- Izuku couldn’t tell which one it was. Of course, some of your classmates that erred on the side of caution were quick to shut it down.

"We can’t be sure it’ll work, there’s too many variables!" Yaoyorozu shook her head, eyebrows furrowing with concern as she ran through your plan in her head. Iida nodded in agreement, a chopping motion accentuating his thoughts.

  "Our teachers will surely be here soon, we should hold position until then." 

"We don’t want to get in their way- ribbit." Tsu agreed, at least had the decency to look guilty she shot down your idea. Not that you really blamed them, the plan definitely leaned towards the improvised side and not everyone was on board with that. 

Mineta, who you didn’t so much consider careful as much as just a wuss, shook his head violently basically hiding behind Momo’s crouched body, whined fearfully, "This plan is so stupid, it’s gonna get us killed!!" 

"It’s only stupid if we die doing it." 

Your voice was strong, steadfast, and daring with a tenacious dash of that reckless abandon that made Izuku see their point of view (but also sent a delightful shiver through his body). Whereas they leaned cautious, you leaned reckless- though you preferred the term dauntless. Midoriya knew neither way of thinking was wrong, but dear god, you were a force of nature when you put your mind to something. It was almost scary. 

But then there was that wicked grin and flash of your eyes as you continued, meeting the gazes of the classmates you knew would follow you- Midoriya was proud to be one of them, but almost imploded with you sent him a devil-may-care wink .

"Otherwise, it’s heroism." 

Your confident wit stunned Izuku for only a moment, he was busy committing your brazen smile and glowing eyes to memory. When he snapped out of it, it was evident you had convinced some others with your sheer tenacity. Todoroki was nodding thoughtfully, frost already spreading over his right hand as Kirishima punched two hardened fists together with a sharp toothed grin. Midoriya couldn’t help but smile softly at you, you had a way of getting people to follow you just by being yourself. 

He’d noticed it the first day he met you (along with your reckless bravery, sarcasm, and other attributes), and had admired you ever since. It was a different kind of admiration than he had for All Might and definitely different than his admiration for Kacchan, no this was something almost otherworldly. Deku was so caught up in your confidence that he hadn’t even realized Iida’s raised pointer finger until you held your hand up. 

“Look. Some of us need to stay here to intercept the pros, let them know what they’re walking into,” You sighed with closed eyes, cutting off Iida before he could reprimand your ‘irresponsible philosophy’ as he usually called it. But when you looked up, there was a different fire in your eyes and a different set to your jaw, but your voice had lost some of it’s heat, showing a different side of you, a more raw side that Midoriya had only seen once or twice, “But someone needs to- I need- to make sure our friends are all right, and I can’t just sit here and hope they’re all right. Because if something happens, there’s no way I can live with myself if I stay here.” 

That stunned the arguments on their tongues, Iida, Tsu, and Momo nodding as they averted their gaze. Deku’s eye widened, somehow his regard for your character was even more heightened seeing that brave face crack to show how concerned you were- even if for a moment. He knew this wasn’t recklessness, or if it was, it wasn’t for glory or applause. He could tell in your heart you wanted to save your friends, plain and simple. 

You took one deep breath before painting that confident veneration back on your face as you stood. Izuku could feel it as you went, the air started to crackle around you as you prepared your quirk, eyes glowing for real this time and hair moving with the power your emanated. You looked so confident, so determined to be a hero, already walking away as you told them, “I’m going."

Midoriya knew in that moment he’d follow you anywhere, he knew he never wanted to without whatever you added to the atmosphere around you to be so addictive. There was no way he’d let you walk into a villain attack alone. So he couldn’t help it when he shot up so quickly, activating One For All like second nature, that the air blew your hair around. And he truly didn’t mean to grab your hand, but he didn’t let go. 

“Not alone, I’m coming,” His lime glowing eyes dimmed back into there normal emerald, but still burned with so much sincerity you could almost hear the hidden meaning there. He meant, With you, I’ll come anywhere with you if you’ll let me.  But he settled with his four word proclamation. 

Four words or novel length, he wasn’t prepared for the dazzling grin you shot back to him, eyes lighting up as you squeezed his hand in return. Of course, this burst of chivalrous confidence could only last so long before Izuku fizzled back into his characteristic blush- the problem only exacerbated when he saw how your eyes softened as you watched him. 

The exchange was only interrupted when Kirishima slapped a strong hand on both your shoulders, his sideways sharp smile almost teasing but subtly implying something else, “Of course (Y/N) isn’t going alone, you think I’m missing out on the action?”

“A group of four will be the most tactically effective, we’ll need to watch each others’ backs.” Todoroki chimed from behind the crimson haired boy, moving to stand on your other side. And just like that you had a team, Midoriya suddenly wondered if he wasn’t the only one who had taken a special interest in you, but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind- this was no time for jealousy. 

As the four of you departed from your safe haven to find your class mates, your threw another wild grin around the group before setting assuredly on Midoriya, “Well, let’s see if we become fools or heroes.” ___

this big suck but it was mostly self indulgent bc I too wish to be confident and have hot boys with super powers admire me

#izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #my hero x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x you #Deku x u #my hero x you #my hero academia x you #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha x you #boko no hero academia x reader #boko no hero academia x you

[irwinkitten]

feel like a monster | a.i

notes: told y’all i was writing again. i got inspired by ‘monster’ by skillet and it’s not the typical demon!ash we have seen previously. enjoy. Also I picture Lucifer being Tom Ellis’ from the tv series ‘Lucifer’. pairing: demon!ashton x witch!reader (genderless self-insert!)  warnings: violence, swearing word count: 3.2k

donate to my ko-fi? 

-

The first time you had met Ashton, he was fully unaware of your presence. 

Eyes as black as night had roamed the small haunt that the local supernaturals frequented, free of any kind of glamour to appeal to the human prey. Most of the locals knew better than to step out without the glamour on, especially demons, but Ashton had kept his on when he stepped through the door, even with the wash of protective magic you had placed on the building.

“What’ll it be, sugar?” You finally asked him, his eyes unseeing as he muttered the word ‘whiskey’. You never took offence, because sometimes the creatures you encountered needed the time to come to terms with something that happened. 

“On the house, don’t drown.” You commented, not even inciting a verbal response as you returned your attention back to one of your regular vampires, a charming smile on your lips as you carried on, the despondent demon lurking in the back of your mind.

The night had been a steady one for the bar, and the demon hardly moved. He wasn't interested when a fight broke out, he ignored the other demons that seemed to sidle up to him and then abandon him once they realised he wasn’t going to pander to their whims.

It hit three am when you finally sat in front of him having a stool behind the bar for this exact reason.

“How about you give me a name, and I’ll go knock on Hades’ door to see if he’s got your soul locked up.” This pulled him from the funk he’d fallen into, his eyes finally focusing and finding yours.

“No need. How long has it been?” 

“You’ve been sittin’ there for at least seven hours, sugar. You sure you’re alright?” And it seemed to flip a switch in him, dark tousled hair finally coming to life as he groaned and let his head rest on the bar. 

Like with all of your other creature patrons, you didn’t hesitate, ruffling his hair gently which had him pulling back in shock, making you smirk as his own fingers ran through the jet black locks before sighing.

“I really need to stop falling out of my skin.” He muttered and you laughed.

“It’s been a long time since I had a skinwalking demon inside of these walls.” You commented casually, feeling his eyes study you as you moved to clean part of the bar.

“There are others?” The curiosity in his tone seemed desperate, which surprised you.

“There were, then good old Lucifer decided that the creation was an abomination. How’d you escape the culling?” 

“I didn’t know there was one? How long ago was it?” This had you confused. You’d heard through the grapevines before Lucifer himself had walked into your establishment. You’d been lucky to escape with your life that night.

“Merde, honey we’re talkin’ about five centuries ago. I’ve had this bar running for the last eight.” His face fell at your words, dismay crossing his features before his eyes closed and a sigh escaped him

“I’m barely four centuries old. How on earth did that freak mutation happen?” His words were all snark but you saw the way his shoulders slumped, how he seemed resigned to the defeat. But you frowned, chucking the rag at him, making him look up. 

“None of that in this bar. If good ‘ole Lucy is up to his tricks again, then you’re around for a reason honey. Now, what’s your name, my lovely skinwalker?” And for the first time that night, he smiled.

“Ashton. My name’s Ashton.” 

He became a regular from that day on. Unlike other demons who had assignments to take souls and cash in on debts, he never really did much. 

The only thing you gleaned from Ashton was that he was only ever called for when there seemed to be something that was too good to be true. And more often than not, they were, which left him to do the dispatching.

On those days, he was sullen and silent, unwilling to even share the possible horrors he may have witnessed, even with your experienced eyes, the way his were haunted, part of you wished to never see it.

He became steady at your bar, a fixture that kept your own morale up when things were rough. He was always there to kick someone too rowdy out, and eventually he started staying til you’d locked up and apparated home.

“Hey Ash. New suit?” You’d called out in greeting as he arrived. You’d noticed that he’d started to experiment with his wardrobe more now that he started to gain confidence in his own skills. 

“You ask me every time I’m wearing something different.” He grumbled, making you laugh as he took his spot at the bar, tugging off the suit jacket and resting it over the back of the stool. 

“Because you’re finally showing an artistic flair with your clothes, sue me for noticing and pointing out they make you look good.” You fired back easily, continuing to set up for the rest of the day. 

“Are we still swapping stories today then?” He asked, ignoring your previous comment as you slid his usual glass in front of him. You smiled in return.

“I love how you consider swapping stories of my relatively normal life something exciting.” He laughed at that.

“Hearing stories of domesticity is much more preferable to the ones of death. Let me have this one thing.” His plea with wide eyes was met with unimpressed ones, only for you to give way and crack a smile.

“It’s a good job that I like you then, not many people can get stories outta me. At least, not the ones of where I’m making a new spell in my own home surrounded by the green ferns and my familiar.” This brought a grin to his face.

“Like I said, hearing something so normal and simple, it makes me hopeful that there’s gonna be a day when I don’t get called in to death and destruction.” You felt your heart break for him a little bit. 

Most of the demons who crossed your safe haven had long since settled into the death and destruction that surrounded them. A lot of them even welcomed it with open arms and gleeful smiles. 

But not Ashton. 

He’d practically rejected that side of him. It was only when he’d met you that he worked ways to accept it but not sink into it. He hung onto you like a lifeline and you gave him those stories of normality, if only to keep him grounded, especially on the worst days. 

“I heard old Lucy has put out rumours of a skinwalker. What’s up with that?” You queried once you’d finished setting up the bar. His face took on a pinched look before sighing.

“I’m a skinwalker with control. I’ve seen the other demons, read the transcripts of the old skinwalkers. They, they lost their sanity towards the end. They sunk into themselves and had nothing to pull them back, nothing to keep them in the world we roam. It’s why I can’t lose control. So far I’ve kept it under lock and key, and yes it’s there, but as long as I don’t lose myself like they did, he won’t have a reason to wipe me out.” 

“Good old Lucifer doesn’t need a reason, sugar. But I’m proud of you.” His posture changed ever so slightly, but the smile he gave you in return was one of the more honest smiles you’d ever seen on his face.

“I guess it’s gonna be me keeping my head down?” He finally muttered and you laughed, patting his cheek gently.

“That and some luck, but you got me on your side, so you’ve got enough to see you through my favourite skinwalking demon.” 

But like many things, the luck had run out for both of you. 

Lucifer was sat on the lounge sofa you’d had moved into the VIP section, his casual demeanour betraying the crackling energy that you could feel.

“Most demons give me the time to open the damn bar, your highness.” Even though your age had nothing on Lucifer, you were one of the braver souls who knocked him down, reminding him that you were never one to bend over backwards.

“Unfortunately for you, witch, the bar won’t be opening today. See, there’s been a rumour. A rumour that you’ve been harbouring a skinwalker.” Ice ran through your veins as your stomach dropped.

But you kept yourself as calm as you could, a game you’d played far too many times before.

“Tell me, Lucifer. Why would you be interested in a skinwalker when you destroyed them over five centuries ago. I don’t need to remind you that you came to gloat that day.” The anger was easy to display, the bitterness in your voice telling him exactly what you thought of his choice.

“Ah, but this skinwalker is going rogue.”

“And so I’m harbouring them? Tell me, Lucy, do demons get to die like humans do, or do you just turn into ash?” You felt the burning of the chains before you even had time to react, your breath being stolen as the burning metal wrapped around your body.

Chains draped across your face, and apart from the low hiss of pain, you did nothing more.

“You’re lucky I don’t do what would be considered normal, witch.” 

“Trust me, your demons will turn on you quicker when they find out exactly who is threatening their safe haven. How will you cope when every demon is on my side?” You could see the way he twitched at the possible threat, the chains getting tighter in response.

“Then if I kill you and blame it on the skinwalker, they’ll go after them.” The taunt was enough as you felt the wards shift and you realised it was Ashton.

Part of you wanted to scream, to warn him. But your voice was trapped, barely able to take in a breath as Lucifer stood from his spot, curling his finger so that the chains yanked forward, bringing you to your knees.

“I must confess that I feel like a monster doing this. But let it be a lesson for generations who try to meddle in affairs that aren’t theirs to touch.” You could only close your eyes as he raised his hand, the shift having already started as the fingers elongated and the nails grew into claws. 

“Your confession will never erase what you’ll do. May the creatures of the darkness know who tried this day, to strip my life and make me pay. May they rebel and cast out, those souls so sure and cast out this monster forever more.” It wasn’t a full spell, but the intent behind the words were enough as a raging roar ripped through the building.

But it wasn’t in front of you like you’d anticipated. 

Your eyes snapped open to see something hit Lucifer and throw him across the room.

“Unbind them now.” To your shock, it was Ashton, his skin practically glowing as he towered over you, his stance in a crouch. 

“For what, skinwalker? You’re only going to die before them.” 

You watched in awe as Ashton seemed to shift, almost like his mind had sunk into base instincts and for the first time in your life, you felt a sliver of fear. But surprisingly enough, it wasn’t towards Ashton. No, it was towards Lucifer who had shifted forms with a look of fury on his face.

“You won’t touch them.” There was a laugh that rooted him to the spot, and you couldn’t stop the yell of agony as you felt yourself hoisted up, desperately trying to cut the feeling of pain off, the agony searing and exhausting. 

“Want a bet, skinwalker?” The deep cadence of Lucifer’s voice sent the thrill of fear, but Ashton didn’t hesitate as he launched at the self proclaimed king of hell, no words being spoken but guttural snarls instead. 

You tried to watch, but you could see the black dots in your vision. But you struggled for each breath, watching as Lucifer seemed to toss him like a rag doll.

You were dimly aware of a sound that shook the walls as you blacked out, a silent prayer that if you were to be sent on to the afterlife, that Ashton would be granted one mercy to be with you at least.

-

“Fuck, why is it when I need a witch, the one I want isn’t available.” Your head was fuzzy, pain rocketing around your body as you heard chains clink together.

You couldn’t pull any energy to speak even a single word before the fuzziness swept you under, drowning you from the pain that you were in.

-

“I can sense you.” A different voice startled you and your head shot up from where you were lay, shock colouring your features. “Death looks good on you.” 

You turned to the voice and felt your insides drop at the sight of Hades. Unlike Lucifer, those who knew, knew that Hades ruled the underworld.

“Are you playing as Hades or your alter?” You finally asked and he laughed, stepping from the shadow that had hidden his features. 

Pale skin with vibrant green eyes. He gave you the kind of smile that he only gave Persephone. 

“It’s my alter form today. Figured you’d seen enough already.” He countered with ease, holding his hand out to you. You took it willingly, allowing him to pull you up. In his alter form, he’d named himself Michael. He had soft features that looked welcoming ‘to not scare the children sent his way’, was his excuse. But it was nice to see familiarity.

“How dead am I?” 

“Not as dead as you should be. Since Lucifer used the death chains on you, I have more leeway than he thought, the little upstart.” You blanched at his words.

“He used the death chains? But, that-”

“Should’ve sent you to my realm almost immediately, or at least indefinitely when you lost consciousness.. But your little spell blocked the chains from doing what they do best. Not to mention my skinwalker nearly taking his own life getting those things off you.” Michael explained as he guided you around the forested area. You realised this must have been his wife’s work.

“Wait, your skinwalker? Is that-” Michael cut you off.

“Is that why Lucifer wiped them to extinction? No. His first batch had never found their grounding. Never succeeded in tying their humanity down. But Ashton was different. So I created him.” 

“What happens now?” His smirk bore the arrogance of a god and it took everything to stop yourself from punching him. You’d learned the hard way not to punch a god, they never bruised and never took well to being hit by what they considered a mortal. 

“Take care of my skinwalker. And tell him that he holds the crown in title for now. I’ll be along to make it official in the next day or so. Gotta make sure his royal partner kick-starts their recovery.” 

Before you could fully process the information, you felt the world spin around you once more, going black. 

The blissful pain free state you had been in slowly morphed as the pain seemed to wrap you tightly until you couldn’t breathe, only for your lungs to pull in the much needed air.

“Oh thank fuck.” Was heard above you, but your eyes were too heavy to try and open, your body lethargic and almost lead like to try and reassure the person above you.

When you next came around, the pain was dulled. There was a slow and steady beep that had you turning your head and you stopped yourself from groaning. 

“Please tell me I’m not in a standard hospital.” The mutter was scratchy and quiet. 

“You forget what we’ve been building this hospital for a few years now. This is one for all kinds of creatures. No regular humans in sight.” The voice made you jump, turning to see Ashton sat next to you, his hair dishevelled and eyes tired as he took you in.

“You’re alive.” His lips curved into a small smile at your whispered words.

“More like we’re alive.” He corrected and you could feel a tear fall from the corner of your eye, lifting a hand up to his face. He was quick to scoot closer, your fingertips feeling his skin and you felt the dam burst.

You were both alive.

He didn’t hesitate to rest his hand over yours, keeping it against his face as you cried, but there was understanding in his eyes as you processed everything, Michael’s words finally ringing back to you as you slowly calmed down.

He was here with you, and even though you’d been toying with the idea, you’d never been so sure of telling him how you felt. Once you’d gathered your bearings, before he could start talking, you cut him off quickly.

“So, king of hell, fancy going on a date with me when I’m out of here?” As much as you wanted to be sentimental with Ashton, your emotions were frayed enough as it was. This was the last thing you needed to add to it. And watching Ashton’s face as he processed your words was certainly worth it.

“A date, with me?” He clarified, tone mystified and dumbfounded. You grinned.

“Of course. Give me a week before I get to the sentimentalities, but I’m almost certain I’ve been in love with you for the last year. Hades was nice enough to point that out, since you can’t lie to a god.” 

“Hades? What?” You took pity on Ashton in that moment.

“Instead of dying immediately, I was trapped, but in Hades’ part of the underworld. He explained that you were his skinwalker, connected to your humanity. He could see my feelings for you as clear as daylight. I might as well try to-” Your words were cut off with his lips on yours, the feeling of them causing you to smile against his lips, breaking the kiss.

“I’m not about to get hexed, am I?” He breathed and you laughed, his lips moving to your forehead before he sat back.

“Not in a million years. So you think about actually coming with me now when I get out of here?” His smile spoke the thousands of words he wanted to say, but simply settled for squeezing your hand gently.

“I think it’s about time I moved in, huh?” 

One of the healers seemed to come in for that moment and you allowed her to fuss over you as Ashton settled back in the chair, a peaceful silence sweeping over the two of you. Compared to your last memory of the loud beast-like roars, the peace was welcomed and enjoyed, Ashton’s slow breathing accompanying the steady beep of your monitor that you knew would be gone by the end of the day.

The peace was something you appreciated as you felt Ashton take your hand once the healer had left, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your skin. It was only when he jolted upright his face a picture of alarm as he stared at you before breathing,

“What do you mean ‘king of hell’?”

-

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if u wanna be added to my taglist just hmu! 

#ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin blurbs #ashton irwin fics #ashton irwin imagines #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin x reader #demon!ashton #witch!reader #hades!michael #demon!au #supernatural!5sos #supernatural 5sos #5sos blurb #5sos blurbs #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5sos fic #5sos fics #5 seconds of summer blurb #5 seconds of summer blurbs #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer fics #demon 5sos #demon ashton #my writing #new writing

[hanii-rose]

Hiii ! The ask box isn't open so I will assume that I can put my request here ? I look foward to see of your writing and i'm excited for new opm content as the fandom is underated on Tumblr so here I go : Garou waking up late during night, something like 4am to leave his s/o bed as he know that maybe he won't return from his hunt this time.

_________________________________________

Last Night I Thought of You

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The clock resounded as the minutes strolled by. Garou wished they would stop for a few moments and allow him to express himself to your sleeping body next to him. The heavy rain drops splashed the ground outside and he couldn't help but think the gods had planned it to thunder on this very night, this late and in this way.

Because tonight was his last night...with you.

You slept soundly, arms wrapped around his bicep, lovingly nuzzling your face into his side. He shifted his weight and turned towards you, brought his hand up and caressed your cheek.

Never had he been so gentle with anything before. Chose not to be. Couldn't be. He was a monster and monsters aren't nice. But you were his only exception.

Ever since you brought him into your home, into your life, he doted on you, protected you, loved you. This heaven that you had built around him, the same heaven that kept him safe, warm and loved, he would be abandoning.

A long time ago, if he had met you, he would have given up everything to be with you, to stay. But things were so different now, so difficult. He was older, he had only one future, stemming from his one goal: To prove.

Prove that he could be stronger than anyone, that he could overcome anything and become that ideal monstrous image in his head. To prove that he had strength.

But for the past few months that he's been with you, spoke to you, held you and cherished you, he experienced a very different kind of strength. He experienced the strength of your light, your warmth, your love, your existence.

And now he was going to turn away from it, ignore the burning inferno in his chest and leave.

Leave for another hunt. He had hunted heroes before, but the only difference this time was that this may be his last. The chances of him returning were slim. Because tonight he was going to go all out, he wouldn't hold back. It wouldn't be much longer now. It was either going to be the heroes' defeat or his own.

His hand retreated from your cheek and he sat up, sliding himself off of your shared bed and steadied himself for what was about to come. But before he departed through your window, he silently swayed over to you. Kissing your forehead, your unique scent mixed with the fresh earthy aroma from outside and he nudged your head with his nose.

Eyes shimmering for you one last time. He still wanted to tell you so much, wanted to love you so much. But he had made up his mind. He was going to leave. Turning around, he left your heaven, his haven and trudged back into his own insane hell.

Jumping out of your window, he instantly missed your being. This was how it was ending...

Goodbye, paradise...

#garou x reader #opm garou #garou #angst #request #first request #first post #one punch man #opm

[elizabeth-234]

The Supplejack

Previous Chapter Eighteen: Existing

Chapter Nineteen: A Phone Call 

As the weeks passed, Peter struggled in vain against the extra workload of his sophomore year classes. The balance between work, school, friends, and himself was everchanging, ever in threat of tipping off the edge of the proverbial blade. Though the latter was pushed to the side with increasing frequency and his bed was becoming more of a rare luxury much to his dismay.

The tub of tabouli, hummus, and carrots sat uneaten in front of him while Mike explained again why the discourse surrounding the new Firefly show was important to their group and the larger culture abroad.

“It’s a western in space, guys, how can you not like it? Plus, Nathan Fillion is working it. You know he’s damn charming.” 



“It’s basically a soap opera and you know it.” Midge said, arms crossed in front of them.

Mike sputtered and Ned stepped in before anyone else would get more offended. Still pouting his lips, Mike turned away from them and started shoveling down his lunch. Midge just sighed. Peter shifted in his seat wondering if he should say anything when Ned bumped shoulders with him.

“You okay?”

He forced a smile on his face. Ned waited for an answer, his eyes open and earnest. The expression made something in Peter’s chest ache. This bitter tug nestled down behind his ribs. Ned was dragged along in all of this. What started as befriending a lone boy in an empty classroom had turned into trying to gather intel from two of the biggest corporations in the world. Still, his friend was right there for him, ready and unfailingly patient with a smile.

“Want to hang out this weekend?” Peter asked instead of answering the question.

He wanted to do something. To have fun and get out of the house for once. His work shifts were pretty stacked up but it was worth it to rearrange them. Ned agreed if his answering smile was any indication.

“Yeah, dude. There’s this cool exhibit downtown about brainwashing. Maybe weird but it could be cool.”

“Sounds fun.” He said.

“Yeah, they get all these big companies to put something together. I’m surprised you know who didn’t do it. I hear Oscorp is holding one in the fall.”


Peter rubbed his chest. The cafeteria noise rushed toward him. All the laughter and words and echoes pressed against him, weighing down. His smile felt wobbly to him but hoped it came off as sincere.  

“We’ll have to check the one this weekend out.”

-

Ten hours later, Peter sat at his desk. His head resting in the crux of his arms crossed on the scattered papers and notebooks. He shifted in the chair and tried not to think about the coming week. The to-do list was somewhere in the mess under him. Every bullet point added another reason his headache was growing at an alarming rate.

One of the pages peaked out from under the curve of his elbow. The model car on it was dissected into the median and coronal planes showcasing all the guts. Why was he tinkering with it after all this time? No one would see it now. Red marks, newly etched into the paper some sleepless night would probably never leave this room let alone the top of his desk unless it was carried through the trash.

The thought of acknowledging he was finally abandoning the project left him gripping onto the papers tight in his palms. Even all these months later, Peter found himself tweaking their project and trying to improve upon it. Lee, the head intern, had said she was always available. Maybe he could email it over and then she could send it onto whoever her boss was? The chain of command wasn’t something he was entirely familiar with but eventually it had to land in his hands.

His phone buzzed.

Out of habit, Peter flipped it upside-down without looking to see who it was from. He tapped his finger against the wood until the sound stopped. He only just managed to sigh when the buzzing started again.

Phone calls were the worst. He hated answering the phone, hated talking over people and not seeing their facial expressions, and hated how goodbyes were always awkward. Above all he hated the way he could never talk in a coherent manner. Always felt like he was overstepping or worse in some people’s eyes, being too quiet.

Phone calls from anyone besides May were trouble. His aunt was in the living room so that meant it was bad. He could be expelled from Midtown or one of his friends could be hurt. Ned’s hands bloody. Julia’s heart stopping. Flash’s chest not rising anymore. Peter’s chest throbbed at the images. With sweaty hands he grabbed his phone off the desk and looked at the ID.

It was from an unknown number.

His thumb hovered over the green button as it rang but he didn’t answer.

If he didn’t answer it was easier to pretend nothing was wrong. The worry barely concealed by his expression was better left unfounded. He kept reading through one of his source books on mechanical engineering but the words held no meaning. His eyes kept returning to the flip phone sitting all innocent inches away from his hand.

His fingers twitched and the phone rang again.

Peter breathed in deeply before flipping it over. He read the number over again. Tried to memorize the digits quickly as if they would hold some significance the longer they were in his mind. The ringing continued and continued for what felt like forever.  

His Uncle Ben came to mind. Without letting him linger for too long again, he flipped his phone open and pressed enter. The other side of the call was silent. There was no breathing or anything to indicate someone was there.

“Hello?” The crack in his voice echoed in his ears.

“Am I speaking to Peter?”

The voice was smooth - pristine in its cadence and rhythm. Unlike his own, the words were spoken with no hesitancy or irregular pitch. There never was, either. It was a voice Peter would recognize anywhere. Hearing them say his name now made him realize how much he missed them. It was a strange thought considering. How could he miss a voice so much?

He scowled. It wasn’t fair to minimize Friday to that of just their voice.

“Fr - Friday? I…How did you get this number?”

There was another pause. Peter wished he’d said something else instead of beginning with such a sharp tone. He could’ve asked how they were doing or greeted them with enthusiasm. Instead the panic from earlier manifested in more of a bark. Heat flooded from his neck up to his ears.

“I have scanned through the Stark databases and found this number on Boss’s phone.” He couldn’t help it. Peter laughed throwing a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. Friday’s silence was enough to confirm they heard but it didn’t dampen his smile.

This was Friday he was talking to. Peter couldn’t believe it and if the smile on his face was wide and almost made his cheeks hurt, he could almost forget about everything else.

“You stole my number from Mr. Stark’s phone?”

“Peter, as I said I scanned...”

“You did! Friday, I can’t believe it. Wait, is everything okay? Did something happen? Is … Mr. Sta- everyone’s okay, right? I mean you don’t have to tell me anything but is everyone…”

“Everyone’s fine. I’m sorry to have made you worry. I would also like to apologize for keeping silent. I called you friend once but haven’t acted in accordance to what constitutes that bond.”

Peter’s neck burned. Friday’s voice sounded as hesitant as Peter felt and he was glad, for once, he wasn’t in the Tower so they couldn’t hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest.

“No need to apologize. I just assumed when I left…”

“That has no bearing on it. There were other factors. Some I can talk about some I can’t.”

“Is, is this why you called? What can you talk about?”

Peter imagined Friday was taking a large breath in from the gap between answer and question. His heart, already beating far too fast for a regular school night, increased its speed.  

“You need to come back to the Tower, Peter.”

His ears filled with cotton inducing a fuzzy ringing. It grew louder and louder until he found himself leaning his forehead against the desk. The phone rested where it fell on the table by his clenched hand. He scooped it up despite the trembling in his digits and brought the phone to his ear again.

“Friday?” He rasped out.

“You need to come back to the Tower. There are matters here that would… benefit from your presence.”

There were too many pauses in the sentence and a million phrases flowing through his mind in response. Following on his immediate responses were a plethora of images of the Tower. He conjured filled hospital beds, condemned signs, and most haunting, empty rooms. The worry gnawed at his stomach not caring about Friday’s reassurances. Something had to be wrong. Why else would Friday contact him? It had been months.

There was nothing more he wanted, but all he managed to say was, “I can’t.”

The pain it would bring was all too easy to think about. He’d had a taste of it at the finale internship presentations. The sheer amount of people buzzing with excitement was enough to dull the awkward hurt but Peter couldn’t forget how hard it was to breath once he was in the Tower again. The familiarity burned at his throat. What was a safe haven reduced to just some place he used to know had hurt more than he was willing to say out loud.

Friday wanted him to go back there after everything. No awards or parties would be there to distract. He would have to walk down the hallways and see the beautiful skyline only glimpsed at that height. He would have to see Mr. Stark.

What would he say? What would he do?

“I can’t work on the project anymore, Peter.”

It was devastating in its simplicity. A twist of the metaphorical knife Peter had never even felt embedded in his side. It was a rope taken away as his head sunk swiftly under water. All the progress he’d made even if he didn’t realize it, was gone in the moment those words were said.

Mr. Stark was clear. Final.

At the time there were a thousand words he’d wanted to say but then and now it didn’t seem right. Now, the sense of betrayal no longer stung because it didn’t matter that Mr. Stark knew all about the Weaver and Oscorp. In the end, no amount of explaining or conversation would fix anything because there was nothing to fix.

The steps he took through the door were some of the hardest in his life. His surreptitious glance back resulted in seeing Mr. Stark bowed and facing away from him. The frightened look crossing over his face before hardly seemed to matter in the face of those words. It told Peter all he needed to know. Peter wasn’t wanted. Who wanted to look after a confused teenager? His time there was over.

Or so, he thought.

Months and months passed and now Friday was on the other end like nothing happened. Was there an option besides declining?

He would have thought Friday didn’t know what happened but that was impossible. They knew basically everything that happened in the Tower. It could be some misplaced urge to help Peter. It didn’t make sense. Despite their reassurances, he couldn’t help but worry something was the matter and despite his caution, Peter was curious.

Still, he repeated the two words again. They sounded more like a plea than a decision.

“What you are saying is you won’t not that you can’t. I know you only have one job and the owner has already given permission. I’m asking with sincerity. I need your help…. We need your help.”

Peter took his time to exhale. He stared at the phone in his hands, tracing Friday’s number with his eyes.

He thought of all the reasons not to go back. But the latest realization barged forward. It was with surprising ease that Peter thought about all the help Mr. Stark had thrown his way. All of the encouragement and kindness he showed without Peter even understanding what was happening.

The question wasn’t if he wanted to go back. He would always want to go back. The Tower in a way had grown to be his home. A safe space he never felt drained from after being there. No one expected anything more than Peter could give and the peace of working there, flexing his mind and being with people who understood him was intoxicating.

He could admit to himself he wanted to say yes without thinking despite every reason to say no. He had to be cautious about this, he decided. Peter had to make sure he wouldn’t get hurt like before. That no one would get hurt.

“Friday, you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

Only when he knew could Peter go back. Only then would Peter step foot in the Tower again.

Enjoy!

Next Chapter Twenty: 

#peter parker #irondad #peter parker fanfic #irondad fanfic #ao3 #Shy Peter #the supplejack

[maybeitscordyceps]

burning (1/2)

and by the time cookie had woken up, it was not in the soft place of light she had grown up in. it was in a wooden box, cold and dark, save for the small bits of light filtering in through the holes allotted for her to breathe. and the panic set in again, leaving her to howl and scream, and run in circles. the handler that opened the box was promptly bitten savagely by cookie. and in the back of her mind, a new voice was telling her to run. a new voice was commanding her to attack. the voice was not her own. she did not run. she did not attack. people in white coats assembled around her, dressing her in the tightest muzzle ever constructed by human hands. grabbing her, dragging her by her neck into a large, brick building. the insides were mostly white, and the air was freezing cold. this world was not built of kindness. this world was not made for her. the place was bright, yes, but only from the sterile glow of the fluorescent lightbulbs above, endlessly shining down like a million little suns. but they were truly nothing like the sun, who had felt warm and sweet like an old friend. these lights did not love. they did not care for cookie. days were passing, she could feel it in her gut. years had to be passing, but that was not certain. and every single new day was a new needle in her side; a new trip to a cold, metal table; a new prodding session, whilst surrounded by whitecoats. i could not tell you what a single one of them looked like, because at the core, all of them were the same. the same cold face. the same insincere sneer. the same cold, sharp, latex fingers. and the only time she ever got any rest was in the cage made of wire, one that hummed deeply with the sound of electricity, surrounded by hundreds of other tormented souls. not a one cried out. the ones that did never moved again. they just stared at her and at themselves with a million giant, watery eyes- species indistinguishable, intentions unclear. cookie was never sure if they wanted to hug or maul her. there was no way to tell. regardless, they could not reach her through the wire. sterile, white lights. cold, sharp air. latex and antiseptic and the awful smell of fur being burned. no cries. no sounds. not even a whimper. until. until the end of the shift came one day, and the guard dogs filled in. they did this every night, and it became nothing of consequence for cookie after a while. but one of them was new. one of them, with freshly cropped ears, and frightened, golden eyes. this one had not yet been broken. he walked without grace or dignity, small tail drooped as low as it could go. he was a handsome breed, black and tan markings so clearly and proudly on display. this is what he’d been bred for, she was sure, and yet... and yet he couldn’t stomach the sight of the torment laid out before him. perhaps he knew it could have just as easily been him, if he’d been a little smarter, a little less strong, a little less beautiful. there really was nothing beautiful in there, except for the guard dogs. glossy fur, shiny eyes, trimmed but sharp nails, polished teeth. and the oh-so-crisp blue and red leather of their collars, so proudly displaying the logo of the facility. cookie had been feeling quite different from the young pup she’d been originally. for one, she could now understand the humans almost perfectly. and she could read their dismal little words, written out so cleanly on their sterile white paper. what about this place wasn’t sterile, she often wondered. nothing about this was natural or beautiful, except for, once again, the guard dogs. and printed freshly on this one’s collar read “north forest medical and military research facility.” she could barely understand what the words meant. he stalked nearer to her cage, his two other packmates standing off to the side. something in her seemed to speak again, the voice that was not her own. and this time, she listened as it said something quite clearly, “talk to him.” so as he began to slink by, she reached out with a paw, gently brushing his fur through the wire. he froze, turning to her with massive, deer-like eyes. he looked as if he was about to be hunted. but instead, she laid a trap with her words. “do you want to be free?” and his ears turned upright again, and his eyes seem to shine. yet he still replied, “there is no such thing.” “freedom is...” she wracked her brain, trying so desperately to recall the pristine feeling of living outside of the walls of north forest. while it was growing fainter, she held onto it, internalizing it. she would never forget. she could never forget. “freedom is outside of these walls. its far away. its safe with the people who love you. do you want to be free?” she repeated herself, this time deliberate. “yes,” was all he said, the smallest word in the entire world, one that meant everything all at once. “then, open the cages. let us all free.” her eyes flickered to the wall of keys and the one singular button in the middle of them. faintly glowing red. the only thing that wasn’t white or silver. the only thing that mattered. “press the button. prove yourself to me, and then we’ll see if you are worthy of freedom.” and his eyes filled with the sight of the button on the wall. and it pushed down so easily under his paw. and all of hell suddenly smelled an out of the pits, and they craved it. all the depraved, lost, hated beings in the world wanted to kiss the fresh air, embrace the world with open arms. the alarm bells screaming were the sound of heaven’s gates, and every single unloved sinner wanted in. cookie didn’t participate in the brawl, though the smell of blood seemed to make her lightheaded in a way that was not unpleasant. no, the voice in her head told her yet another thing. “run. leave this place and never return.” her eyes caught on the young guard dog who’d given her the world yet again, watching him help a small group of shivering outcasts towards the door. and she barked. in hindsight, it may have been stupid. if she’d just ran, her life wouldn’t have been nearly as hard. she would be free of the burden this wretched pit had left on her soul. but she barked. and they listened. she lead them through the winding hallways, trying every door in her path. they followed obediently behind her, a trail of ducklings in her wake. only one opened, and she quickly ushered them inside, just as the smell of humans strongly hit her nose. and the sound of screaming and gunfire erupted from the lab. cookie looked over the survivors. a yellow cat with pigeon wings pasted onto her back. a mop-haired dog with six legs. a gray cat with mechanical bits all over his body. a golden dog with tusks like an elephant. a tabby cat with eyes all over his body. and, of course, the handsome guard dog. the voice spoke again, “ask for names,” so she did. none were given. they simply didn’t have them. except for the guard dog, who’s humble voice returned a small answer. “spike.” desperate, cookie called out to the voice, who returned with a swift answer. “i remember reading about packs of wolves. and how the humans thought they had a hierarchy assembled with letters of a foreign alphabet. we could name them after that, but keep in mind, the names determine rank.” “rank?” she called back, incredulous. “we aren’t an army.”   “but you could be,” was the voice’s only reply. “and you’ll need to be, if you want to survive out here. if you want freedom, you’ll need to listen to me. let me guide you.” “and who are you to guide me?” “i saved your lives back there. you owe me everything.” “what even are you?” “i died here long ago, under the name belladonna. i was just a meek little bunny, you see. but i was smart, oh-so-smart. i could have escaped, if someone had only helped me along. if someone strong, like you or your new friends, were on my side. and now, i am going to aid you. i am going to give you the life i always wanted.” cookie did not have a response. she simply stared at the guard dog, checking everyone for wounds. her eyes wandered around the room they were in, and it seemed like an abandoned place of sorts. an old tv sat on a table, lopsided and out of the way. junk cluttered every inch of the place; textboxes, chalk, markers... if cookie had known what a school was, she would have called the place a classroom. instead, she called it a haven. she willed the ranking names from the ghost fluttering in the back of her mind, and made a small, alerting bark. the refugees turned, wide eyed and trembling. but cookie did not hurt them. she gave them names. she made them people. the mop-haired dog became gamma. the yellow, winged cat became delta. the mechanical cat became epsilon. the tusked dog became theta. the tabby became omega. and they all smiled amongst themselves, chattering quietly about their new identities. truly, they had to be special, to be saved by someone as courageous as the spotted dog before them, someone as favored by the whitecoats as her. there were no physical deformities on cookie, but something had to be special about her. she wasn’t sure herself, but the whitecoats had spent a lot of time working on her. not that she remembered much of it. all of the time she spent on tables was pushed to the back of her mind, to keep her from turning to a shivering husk. and winged little delta was the first one to address her directly, making the others watch in apprehension. “and you?” she asked. “do you have a name?” she stared back at the small feline, green eyes unyielding. she could not be cookie anymore. cookie was a weak, fragile young puppy, and she was a commanding, strong dog. she was better than cookie could ever be- clever, sneaky, strong. all these things and more did belladonna whisper to her, while a faint memory ignited in the back of her mind. her name, to the whitecoats, had been “project flores ignis.” and so came the name from her muzzle. “my name is ignis. and i am your new alpha.”

#this one was a bit longer folks #also sorry if these seem like i'm skimming #i'm actually just trying to write this in a more concise way #i don't want this to be a book #i don't care if it doesn't make sense #i am just finally letting this story out #it's been haunting me for a long time tbh #poetry?? #idk what to tag this as #original story #part three

[homesteadchronicles]

KINGDOM COME: Writing Excerpt (”One Way Onward”)

So, guess what? Ya boi moved out of his parent’s home and into his own apartment this past week! Emotions abounded, which resulted in this. What better way to process change than through your characters, right?

In honor of my move, I wanted to present you all with an excerpt you would not have read otherwise. While this event happens mid-canon, the travel sequence itself is skipped over. As such, you get a glimpse into an overlooked moment in the midst of the story, have a chance to see through the eyes of a non-POV character, and you get to hear my a cappella pipes! I hope you all enjoy.

___

E X C E R P T   D E T A I L S 

PROJECT: Kingdom Come CHARACTERS: - Nadielle Sincairn: Norian Spymaster, wife of Elyk and mother of Oeden - Oeden Sincairn: Norian bellringer-turned-priest’s apprentice, son of Nadielle - Elyk Sincairn: Norian Knight Commander, husband of Nadielle SETTING: - Inside a carriage on the road to First Haven in Selhearth, the nation’s capital and the neighboring kingdom of their snowy homeland, Norire. CONTEXT: - The Sincairns are on a carriage ride headed for a worldwide festival, the events of which Nadielle believes will tear her son from her forever. The Way of the Sealed God awaits him in First Haven. Recognizing the sign of the times, she wishes for one last moment of comfort with her only child.

___

To the unknowing eye, the carriage escorting Nadielle and Oeden Sincairn from their home in Norire to the Havinic Convention would have become a common sight. Merchants, innkeepers, highwaymen: all manner of folk welcomed the traffic, what with half the world on their way towards their continent’s capital at once. None could resist the call of a festival.

Nadielle, however, had never followed the path of men. She tread the Way of Seals - and none could call its roads kind. By dawn, her son would follow in her bloodied footsteps.

The time to turn back had long since passed.

Nadielle knew: the tie between them loosened more by the minute, each moment lost a reminder of their imminent separation. Destiny had set a noose about her son’s neck and pulled it taut each turn of the moon. The apocalypse would have roped him into its approach eventually, had Oeden not tightened the knot himself.

Why, she mused, must I have made a boy as stubborn as me?

Could she even call him “boy” anymore? All baby fat had faded from his face, once-plump skin fading into haunted hollows. The youthful lilt of his lips had sunken from prejudice she could not protect him from. Even his hair had grown half as much as him!

At least his chin steered clear of stubble. Had that too betrayed her, she could envision the catastrophe to follow: Oeden, eyes arched and arms crossed, standing opposite his father. Elyk, blade raised in determination, would trim every last lock from his son’s throat…only to nick the skin and start a feud. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d fought.

And it won’t be the only sword at his throat, a memory reminded her. How could she forget? Nadielle did not need the Timekeeper’s Seal to know the clock counted down to Oeden’s endangerment. It ticked in time with her heart.

A sword might one day rest at his throat, but until then, it made its home in her soul.

Ignorance, at least, still graced Oeden. For now. Revelation would visit him as soon as their ride arrived. But here, he was just her baby. Just her boy. Just hers.

Hers to hold one last time.

Nadielle reached across the carriage and clung to Oeden’s hand. The unexpected contact caused Oeden to rear back, fearing an unforeseen vision. When no portent of tragedy showed itself, he eased into her touch. “What, did we hit a bump?”

“The only bumps I see,” she said, with a waggle of her fingers, “are under your eyes! You need sleep.” Nadielle patted the space beside her. It was not a request. “Come on - better rest while you can.”

Oeden cocked a brow but did not otherwise protest. He stuffed himself into the cramped confines of their now-shared seating until a pool of flame-kissed hair coalesced about her feet. The bells on his chains rung out as he laid his head in her lap.

How she wished she could silence those bells forever.

“You’re hiding something,” Oeden noted. He need not question her: the Spymaster of Norire preferred to keep clandestine at all times - even from family. Even still, he searched her face for a secret he could not find.

“Can’t a mother want to hold her son?”

“Can’t a son want to hold his mom accountable?” His eyes abandoned their hunt. They sought the ceiling instead. “Neither of us have ever been the touchy type.”

“True,” Nadielle agreed. But only one of us regrets it. She threaded her hands through his hair and imagined each strand was a wisp of fire. If she let it burn the wagon down, would it keep them from the coming maelstrom? “You’ll understand one day, when ‘am’ becomes ‘was’ before you’re ready. Then, you’ll remember this moment, and cling to whatever still is.”

Oeden scoffed. “Well, I ‘was’ at home and now I ‘am’ going to a convention - one you will also be at, might I add. Does the clinginess come on the ride home or…?”

“It will not come at all if you keep flapping that mouth of yours,” she corrected. It will not come at all either way. “Aren’t you supposed to be napping? How can you rest when you keep disrespecting your mother?”

“You know I can’t sleep.”

I know. Nadielle had endured a lifelong nightmare, but nothing compared to the terrors in her child’s mind. And I know why.

“Not without a lullaby, you can’t!” Nadielle countered his snorted retort with a cluck of her tongue. “Don’t doubt your elders - my mother passed this song onto me, before I left home, and now it will guide you on your Way, too.”

That caught Oeden’s attention. “You never talk about Grandma.”

“I never want to,” she admitted. “God willing, I’ll never have to again. But I am willing to make an exception: for your last night with me.”

Whatever discretion Oeden carried surrendered to his curiosity. One longwinded exhale later and his entire form stilled. He awaited his serenade.

When you walk away Will you walk the Way? When you cannot stay Will you go astray?

For the wolves ahead devour sheep And the nightmares hunt you as you sleep Although you I can no longer keep I pray that you walk the Way I pray you won’t walk away

Oeden peeked open an eye. “Is this supposed to soothe me or scare me?”

Nadielle hushed his sarcastic inquiry. The Way would bring him both, she knew, but he need only know the warning for now and await the blessing to be. 

When you walk away Will you walk the Way? If you leave my home Where now will you roam?

For I’ve kept you safe here in my arms Far from the world that wished you harm When wanderlust has all but lost its charm I pray that you walk the Way I pray you won’t walk away

Each completed lyric eased the limbs bundled into her lap. Oeden’s breath evened with every beat, even as Nadielle’s hitched in her throat. This song plucked at heartstrings she assumed had long since snapped inside of her. How out of tune she was with her own heart’s cry.

But only the benediction remained. If her son could not hear it, she prayed that God, at least, would heed it.

May Waymaker see and Seal you When you set forth from His throne May you follow in His footsteps Until His Way becomes your own Until His Way becomes your own

I pray that you walk the Way I pray you won’t walk away I pray, I pray the Way

The mournful lament continued until its lyrics ushered Oeden into a still-troubled sleep and its sentiments sent Nadielle into a hushed, heaving grief. The only noise left to soothe them came from the coachman. His whip did not wait for their wailing to relent. It did not anticipate another needed night together. It drove them on, and on, and on. No matter what.

Nadielle would have hated that sound, if its absence did not herald the end of her world.

___

Thank you for reading! This both pained and pleased me to write.

If you would like to listen to a recording of Nadielle’s song, performed by yours truly, please click here! Fair warning: I am not a songwriter, nor is the a cappella track particularly well-mastered. But it’s all for fun, right?

#writing excerpt #original writing #writing #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #my writing #writing community #writers #writer #write #kingdom come #kingdom come excerpt #nadielle sincairn #oeden halflife

[serararku]

Back from the Black

Giggles whispered in the wind. Soft voices mumbled amongst each other. In the hot dark Era felt things touching her face, but she was powerless to stop it; her arms and legs were bound, and she was drifting, spinning, spiraling onward into the void again. Not that it mattered to her anymore… all she wanted was to be in his arms again, to feel his breath on her neck, to hear him tell her everything was going to be okay. But he was gone. They all were. Lost their lives in the sacking of Ul’dah, their peaceful eternal slumber cut short by the will of a necromancer. “I will avenge you all…” She thought, writhing and wiggling in her invisible cocoon. “I will kill that creature and put you all back to-”

Era opened her eyes to sudden blinding sunlight and three pairs of big bright eyes. “EEP!” The kittens shrieked, leaping a dozen ilms off the ground as their stubby tails bristled. Yuun suddenly snapped awake as well, rising from her seat with fury burning in her eyes.

“You little brats! I told you not to touch her!” Her mother grabbed the closest thing she could- a makeshift broom, and gave the fleeing children beatings they wouldn’t soon forget. Era winced at the glare of the sun, but when she tried to roll over, she found herself swaddled tightly in blankets- just like she was when she was still a misbehaving kitten. “Era honey… are you okay?!”

“Euugh…” Was all she could manage. Her head ached, her mouth was dry, and she was sore from teeth to tail; but something about the concern in her mother’s face and the soothing warmth of the sun helped convince this was real. 

“Don’t try to move… here.” She sat down beside her and pulled her head into her lap. Era’s ears perked when ice cold water touched her lips. Gulp… gulp… gulp… “Slowly, Era… I don’t want you hurting yourself again.”

“Guhh… a… again…?” She repeated, trying to catch her breath with lungs that weren’t ruptured in a body that wasn’t torn apart by wolves.

Yuun closed her eyes and slowly nodded. “I thought I knew them. The Elders… they’re supposed to be the bridge between Azeyma and her children. But once that accursed cave was discovered a few moons ago, they’ve done nothing but devour strange foods and hallucinate, and they’re taking more and more of our tribe down with them. When I heard the Elders had summoned you, I thought… I would lose you.” She opened her eyes and began wiping away the ‘art’ those three kittens were drawing on Era’s face. “The next time Grandmother puts her vile hands on you will be the last time she has hands.”

Now that she had birthed five daughters, one for each astral moon in accordance to Azeyma, Yuun was officially recognized as a Matron when her last daughter and final kitten was born two years ago, and therefore was under no obligation to mate with Vahli or any other Tia that would eventually take his place in the years to come. Following closely behind the spiritual leadership of the Elders, and the military prowess of the Nunh, the Matrons represented the third pillar of the Zu Tribe, providing guidance to the kittens and new mothers alike. Thanks to the combined tragedies of the drought eight years ago and the addicts in that ‘sacred’ cave, Yuun was now the only Matron left. And she took this responsibility very seriously.

“Ahem…” Vahli cleared his throat loudly outside the tent, making his presence known long before he revealed himself. “Yuun, good morning. May I speak with Era alone?”

“Of course.” Her mother planted a gentle kiss on her forehead before pulling a corner of her blanket out of its knot, unraveling Era and setting her free from her prison. Their Nunh took her offered hand when she rose to her feet, and lightly kissed her knuckles on her way out. Era remained quiet, awkwardly laying on her back, waiting for him to say something. For a long time he simply stared off in the distance, before crossing his arms and sitting down beside her. “I’m sorry for sending you to the Elders.” Vahli was reluctant to speak; apologies must be a rarity for such a proud and accomplished man. “They told me they could help you. I should have asked for details.”

“It’s not your fault.” Era assured him. “I planned on speaking with them the day I decided to return to the tribe. Though… now knowing what happened... and what the search party had to do to me...”

“It was for your own protection.” He explained, finally glancing down to meet her gaze. “Your mother demanded I stop the Elders from influencing you. Once I formed a party to storm the caves, you were already gone. It took us… a lot of time and effort to comb the surrounding lands.”

Era didn’t like how vague he insisted on being. “How long was I missing?!”

“Three days.” 

That knocked the wind out of her lungs. She felt like she had been trapped in that hellscape for almost a full year, but to know she was hallucinating for just over half of a week…

Vahli wasn’t finished. “We found you out in the wastes, completely naked and covered in blood that wasn’t yours, dancing alone in the middle of nowhere... laughing, crying and screaming. We thought you were possessed by an evil spirit, or worse… suffering from the salivating sickness. Everyone feared you would need to be put down… myself included. I’m glad I was wrong.”

Era didn’t want to think about that nightmare any longer than she had to- that trip was not something she would ever endure again. “So I’ve snapped out of it… what’s next?”

Her Nunh leaned against a post and furrowed his brow. “Some of our youngest are scratching at themselves enough to remove hair. Others aren’t able to hold solid food down for long. The mothers insist they’re sick and they don’t feel safe with the Elders treating them. I’m at my wits end.” Slowly he rose back up to his feet, and began pacing nervously. “I know the tribeless cities may have the solution we need. Can I count on you to be our emissary?”

“Yes…!” Era answered quickly, jumping at the chance to be with Zevi again. “I know just the woman who can help them! I won’t let you down!”

Vahli pursed his lips disapprovingly at her sudden enthusiasm. “I’ve heard of the tribeless cities and their… vices. Make sure anyone you bring back to our lands is dependable… and willing to adhere to our way of life.” He paused for a moment before adding, “No witchcraft. Thanalan suffers enough already.”

“I understand…”

“Do you?” Vahli began to pace back and forth. “My instincts are telling me to keep you here. That sending you off to those havens of heresy is a grave mistake. But… our kittens need your help. I need your help.” He stopped near the entrance and placed his hand on the drape. “Come back to us. I know you’ve spent a lot of time out there… but your place is here. With me.” Era’s ears drooped as she slowly nodded. When she rose to her feet, and her blanket slipped from her body, Vahli couldn’t help but stare at her scars again.

Unable to stand this awkward staring contest anymore, Era scooped the spare change of clothes waiting for her in the corner to cover herself and assuredly muttered, “I won’t abandon my family. Not now… not ever.”

“Good.” Once her body was covered and her scars were out of sight, her Nunh blinked away his stupor and left without another word. Era was left alone to put her clothes on in silence.

The intense Thanalan sunlight began its ruthless beating the moment she stepped out of her tent. The glare from the morning was not doing Era’s headache any favors- it was difficult to focus on just about anything, and she was still disoriented and uncharacteristically clumsy. That bitter soup the Elders gave her had surely run through her system by now; if any one of these side effects became permanent, she could kiss her training goodbye. Hopefully Zevi wouldn’t mind shouldering their financial burdens if she was left unfit for wor-

"BLOOD SPEAKS TO ME!"

"BWAH!" Era leapt a full three fulms into the air before she was snatched up and pulled into a strong hug; the side of her face was smashed against the coarse beak of a zu skull, and her blood ran cold. There was only one woman in the entire tribe that would even wear a skull outside of an actual battle. 

Yhaba the Undying. The leader of the Zu Tribe’s warrior clowder, and top contender for the most deranged and bloodthirsty Miqo’te in Thanalan. To call this woman a lunatic would be an understatement. She was as unpredictable as she was ferocious, and amidst the chaos of battle, she had no equal. Drenched in the blood of her tribe’s enemies was perhaps the only time she ever felt truly home. She had lost her tail ages ago along with most of her fingers and toes, but she could eviscerate and disembowel a fully grown goobbue patriarch in a matter of seconds. If she wasn’t so good at killing, she would have likely died a long time ago.

"Yhaba…! Unnf! You're c-crushing me…!" Era squeaked out, before being suddenly released and dropped into the dirt. She stopped herself from gazing up into that skull, clutching at her pounding heart while gasping for breath. Only a fool with a deathwish would provoke Yhaba’s malignant barbarism; as a result, no one truly knows what she even looks like under her bone helmet anymore. No one that lived to tell about it at least. 

"Mountains watch us. Wait for us to die." Yhaba mumbled, scratching at the scabs on her arm. "The green speaks of buckets filled with tongues. Don’t open your mouth if you see them."

"R-right… I'll be careful…" Era slowly rose to her feet, more than eager to give this psychopath a wide berth before her mere presence set her off.

Yhaba watched her turn and leave in an unsettling silence before she opened her beak and said, “You hear the ringing? Feel the seething sickness? The voice telling you to paint with blood?”

Era stopped dead in her tracks but she didn’t turn around. “How do you know this…?” She demanded indignantly. “How could you know?!”

“I hear them too.” Yhaba pulled an ear from her necklace and held it to her temple, as if she was listening to something. “Silence loves to talk. Don’t answer when they call your name. Fly away little bird. Go where the mountains can’t watch you.” She took a few long strides toward Era and grabbed her by the wrist; she then pushed a small linen sack into her hand, and refused to let go until she closed her fingers around it.

“What is this…?” Era meekly asked, fearing it was a small bag of ears.

“Eat when the ringing returns.” Yhaba began slinking back toward a shady nook in between two tents. “Then you will never die. Spite the mountains.”

Then she was left alone, standing under the pummeling sun with more questions than answers. Era slowly opened her palm and hesitantly opened the small sack- the substance closely resembled fine red sand, or perhaps even cinnamon. A cautious sniff revealed nothing, but she sure as hell wasn’t about to taste it; that would make it the third time she ate something given to her that she shouldn’t have. Instead the woman tucked it into her pocket for safe keeping, and aptly decided to put this strange encounter behind her. 

The fastest way back was the same route she took reaching the heart of her tribe’s territory; through the air. Nossk took her up into the sky to soar high above the barren wastes again, only this time she did it by herself. With the wind in her hair and the sun tanning her skin, all she could think about was leaping into Zevi’s arms again. A relief washed over her when she saw Ul’dah emerging through the brown dusty haze, glad everything was going better than she expected; one slip up and she would have had to choose between her lover and her family. She wasn’t exactly out of the woods yet, but the hardest part was behind her. Now she could just lean back, close her eyes, and let the wind pass across her face as this giant zu cut down her return trip by over half of a day.

It was evening by the time she felt safe enough to fly over the city. Using the cover of night, Era remained far and above, partially hidden between the sparse clouds, before identifying the Goblet and diving earthbound. Nossk opened his wings last minute, swooping down through the canyon along the border of the residential district to avoid startling any guards. As silent as the grave it soared below, slipping beneath two bridges before spreading its tail feathers and tilting up toward the ledge; his long curved talons easily shattered the stone railing, crumbling it into dust beneath his weight. 

“Crap…!” Era squeaked, hoping no one heard that. She slipped from his back and wrapped her arms around his jagged beak to press her lips atop his head. “Go home, Nossk…! I’ll see you soon, okay?” The bird clicked his tongue against his beak a few times before spreading his wings wide. Era made the horrible mistake of stepping back to let him take off, thinking he would follow the same path they took to get here.

He didn’t.

Nossk launched himself high into the air with a single flap of his mighty wings, and almost scraped against a nearby tower as he made a bee-line back toward Valhaas Barrow to the southeast. Era’s ears flattened when she heard the startled screams of Lalafellin residents having heart attacks at the sheer size of Nossk soaring above their heads. He was certainly fast enough to escape before the Immortal Flames could organize a task force to shoot him down… hopefully he doesn’t stop on the way home to snack on any fleeing citizens. Instead of waiting around for a passing guard to start asking questions as to why and how that railing got destroyed, Era slipped through the main gate of the estate and quickly stepped inside.

She heard familiar voices singing an unfamiliar song. Hurrying down the steps, and through the large sliding doors of iron, and across the metal grated rafters, Era finally reached the last flight of stairs that led into the basement bar.

“Ho, ro, the rattlin’ bog! The bog down in the valley-o! Ho, ro, the rattlin’ bog! The bog down in the valley-o!” K’thalen still had his pipes, with his boisterous singing echoing off the walls and carrying far throughout the whole of the estate. Mizuna was sitting on the piano bench with her back turned to the expensive instrument, clapping in unison with the rhythm and singing along in her own shy way. A Lalafell she didn’t recognize was doing a hearty jig in the middle of the group, his tiny legs kicking and twisting faster than she expected; the room was fairly crowded with faces she didn’t recognize, in fact. But sitting alone on the opposite side of the room, invested in the party but barely involved, sat her best friend and lover. R’zevi was nodding his head to K’thalen’s catchy song and half-heartedly clapping his hands together to the tune, but he looked like he was struggling to stay awake.

That is until he locked eyes with S’era, and his face lit up like a Starlight fireworks show.

---

Mentions: @rzevi-tia-ffxiv​

[mischief-rei]

Truth Of Above

“...wh...what the hell was I just...doing?” Pappy murmurs. His surrounding felt warped as if burning metal slowly oozed down concrete walls. He..just went drinking due to stress overload. Yeah. That was it. Did Molotov slip him something? He honestly didn’t put it past the elemental. When his vision finally cleared, he saw the layout of the underground as it had been in the past; vibrant and filled with monsters. “Ah...reset...” Pappy murmured in a disappointment. “Strange. Usually my memory isn’t that fuzzy when she triggers one...Hold on, I thought she claimed she couldn’t reset anymore!” Once able to steady his balance, he looked ahead towards home to find Rei standing at the door. Her eyes hollow, expression unreadable. “Rei, what’s wrong?” Pappy asks. Rei peered up at him. “I tried to stop Frisk. I found that I shouldn’t have. They were right. Monsters....shouldn’t go up there...” she answered in near monotone.  “Rei, they cannot remain down here forever either. Not only will there be eventual lack of supplies, but it’ll be overcrowded. Even if it may be a safe-haven for a time, it’s not going to be a permanent one,” Pappy explained to her. “It’s worse up there,” Rei argued. “Worse than everyone starving themselves or being in discomfort for whoever knows how long?” Pappy curved, tone becoming more firm. “I don’t believe I need to remind you of what happened to the few timelines that couldn’t reach the surface,” he adds.  Of course she knew. Sonar was still in such a devastated state thanks to the human of his world abandoning him and everyone else. Rei didn’t speak. Instead, she brought out a knife. 

“Would answering matter? You’ll just argue your point into the ground. You always do that,” Rei snaps harshly back. “Above...below...it’s all just...hell..” she cracked a smile, on that shot a shiver down Pappy’s spine. Rei had snapped. She had finally...snapped. “Maybe I will, but truly I wish to understand what could possibly be wretched enough to leave a whole race locked away until they rot. Who knows?...Maybe I might be inclined to believe you. At this rate, however, nether side is understanding each other if you keep this information to yourself,” Pappy pressed on.

#behindthescenes #main verse #corruptedtale drabble

[patrickstargang]

To Heal (Shadow of Kyoshi fic)

Chapter 1: The Other Side of Peace

Chapter 2: Master and Student

Chapter 3: A Cause For Celebration

Chapter 4: Taking Off The Mask

Chapter 5: Call to Action

Epilogue

The wind began to shake through the wooden walls of the estate. The night was completely silent except for the occasional whistle of air off in the distance. The infirmary was empty, except for Kyoshi sitting by Rangi’s bed, who was fast asleep.  The young firebender was still trying to recover from her injury, it had been a few days since then. Kyoshi had been doing her best to heal it, but it seemed like she still had a long way to go.

Kyoshi’s tears had dried but there was still a pit in her stomach. While she had successfully kept Rangi alive, she wasn’t sure if she was just postponing the inevitable. It didn’t seem like she was improving. In fact, she might be getting worse.

She had to trust in her healing training, but right now she didn’t have a lot of faith.

“Please, just this once,” she said as she moved the glowing water around the edges of the wound.  After a while, she slowly lowered her hand and brought the water back into her cloth pouch.

Tears began to well up in her eyes again, but she quickly wiped them away. They wouldn’t help now. She tried to keep herself from falling back into that dark place, right after she held Rangi in her arms trying to stop herself from losing control. She breathed, a long and unsteady breath.

She didn’t know what else there was to do. She had to wait for Atuat to return and who knows how long that would be. She had no way of knowing if what she was taught was even working. This was her first time using it on someone who was mortally wounded, and it was the person most important in her life. Atuat had taught her everything she could, but now it seems it was all for naught.

But then an idea came into Kyoshi’s head. She remembered a rumor, a myth, that Atuat had told her during her time in training. At this point, she was willing to take any routes, even if they might not work.

Before she left the infirmary, Kyoshi gave a Rangi a soft kiss on her forehead. Then she made her way through the halls and out of the estate. She brushed past Yun’s grave, the grass flowing with intensity against the night wind. She was getting close.

During her trek, she came across a familiar shape, the shape of a fox. It stood up, staring intently and curiously at Kyoshi. The fox pointed its head to the left, a signal to follow it. As Kyoshi approached,  the fox made its way past some of the shrubbery and bushes outside the trail. Kyoshi followed, dodging the prickly branches below her.

“Show me where to go, little guy.”

After a while, she found it. That same spring where she met Yangchen. Even with the wind, the spring was captured in a moment of complete stasis. It was a literal safe haven within the storm.

Kyoshi approached the water slowly before dipping her hand in. As she moved it around, she felt an unexplainable sensation. Like the scars around her fingers were slowly disappearing. But quickly she pulled her hand out, realizing it could be seen as disrespectful to a spiritual site to just start playing with the pond.

She found the stone table, where she first meditated and talked with Yangchen. She quickly sat atop the stone and crossed her legs. She closed her eyes and waited for what seemed like hours. It was hard to keep awake since she was up all day trying to heal Rangi. But her hunger and growling stomach helped her to stay awake. But with time, she finally heard a familiar voice.

“It’s wonderful to see you again Kyoshi.”

She opened her eyes to find the warm expression of Yangchen sitting in front of her. It was a comforting face to find at a time like this.

“So what brings you here at this hour.”

Kyoshi remembered her goal, she didn’t know what to say at first since the rumor began to sound silly. But still, she went ahead with it.

“Yangchen, is it alright for me to take Spirit water from the spring. I’ve been told it has certain….powers, healing powers. But I wasn’t sure if I used it if there would be considered an insult to the Spirit World in some way. I’m still trying to learn about it, but there's still so much I don’t know. But I wanted to ask you….”

Yangchen began to think on the question before replying.

“Well that depends, what are you using the water for?”

Kyoshi sat in silence for a moment. She knew this whole journey was just based on a rumor. But if it was a chance to save Rangi then she had to go through with it. Even if it might lead to a dead end.

Kyoshi slowly looked back up at Yangchen with a face of determination and desperation seeping past her eyes.

“I need it to save someone I love…... I need to heal her.”

Yangchen saw the sincerity behind Kyoshi’s words. It was comforting, to see her successor who had to go through so much to try to save others, even if it was to no avail, still doing everything she could. The Air Nomad spirit smiled proudly.

“Then you have my permission.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rangi followed Kyoshi through the woods, staying slightly behind as she wasn’t sure why they were here in the first place. They had just gotten back from the Fire Nation and on a whim Kyoshi wanted to take a walk in the forest. It seemed strange to her.

“So where is it that we’re going?” Rangi asked.

“You’ll see, it’s a surprise.”

Rangi raised an eyebrow in confusion right before a little fox appeared in front of Kyoshi. Rangi was taken aback at first, but then she saw Kyoshi crouch down in front of it. It looked like she was whispering something in its ear.

The fox suddenly made its way through a patch of bushes. Kyoshi began to follow it before turning back to Rangi. She smiled, motioning herself in the direction of the bushes before continuing onwards. Rangi stood for a moment, slightly annoyed and bewildered, but soon enough she made her way.

“Kyoshi! Wait up!”

She tried to dodge the branches jutting out at every angle. It would have been a much bigger issue if she was wearing her hair in the topknot, but she abandoned that a while ago.

After the short struggle through the bushes, Rangi made it to the other side. She took a  moment to compose herself, then she saw the spring. She was in awe of the beauty of the water and plant life surrounding it. She couldn’t articulate it, but there was something otherworldly about it all.

She saw Kyoshi and the little fox standing in front of the pond. Rangi joined Kyoshi by her side, looking into the reflection of the water. She was still a bit uncertain about what was going on, her body was visibly tense. But she relaxed when Kyoshi gripped her hand tenderly.

“This spring is a spiritual place. This was where I first talked to Yangchen.”

Now the strange feeling that Rangi had gotten made sense, entering a spiritual place was said to be the closest link between the world of Spirits and the physical. It made her look at every part of the pond in a new light. She was doing all she could to take in the feeling of wonder. She looked deeper into the pond.

“I can’t believe it, I didn’t even know that spirit ponds really existed!”

Kyoshi chuckled softly at the firebender’s sudden excitement. “Well, there's a bit more to it than that.”

She moved Rangi’s hand over, showing the burn that she took from her fight with Jinran. It mostly healed, but there was some occasional pain that she felt from it. Kyoshi then bended a shifting mass of the pond water over to her. Slowly, she began to heal Rangi’s hand with it. Kyoshi looked at Rangi while she slowly flowed the liquid around the burn.

“Does this feel….familiar by any chance?”

Rangi was confused by the question at first. Of course it felt familiar, she had healed her before, it wasn’t anything new. But as it went on, she started to feel something specifically familiar about it. For some reason, it felt like it was connected to a part of her back, a tingling sensation running from the palm to the other side of her body.

“Y-Yes it does….. I’m not sure why though…..”

Kyoshi gave a knowing smile. She finished the healing before returning the water back into the pond. She went back to staring at the water’s reflection.

“I guess I was right….”

Rangi was confused at the sudden statement. “About what?”

Kyoshi began to playfully bend the water with a circular motion, deep in thought.

“When I was training with Atuat, I heard a rumor that Spirit water could heal even the worst wounds. I didn’t really believe it at the time, but it was something that I thought about every now and then. Back when you were recovering from your injury, I was so scared that there wasn’t anything that I could do to stop it from getting worse. I felt desperate, and I found this pond not too long after. In the middle night, I took some of the pond water and used it to heal your back. I wasn’t sure if it worked at first, but then you started recovering so quickly. When Atuat told me that you didn’t have any internal wounds, I had a feeling it was because of the Spirit water.”

Rangi looked at Kyoshi, processing the weight of this story. Kyoshi had saved her on the last strands of hope that she had, clinging on to a solution that may not have been true. Kyoshi looked down into the water, staring into her own reflection.

“If it wasn’t for this pond, I don’t know what I would have done to save you.”

Rangi knew the look that Kyoshi was giving. And she knew exactly what to do. She nestled herself into Kyoshi’s neck, now she was the one holding onto her hand. She traced her fingers around the scars on the back of Kyoshi’s hand.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore. I’m here now.”

Kyoshi smiled slightly, leaning into Rangi. She exhaled, it felt like letting go of something that had been weighing her down. A weight that she couldn’t even see.

“Hey,” Rangi said suddenly. She turned Kyoshi’s face to meet her eyes. Kyoshi was taken aback by the gesture, staring right into the flame of her lover’s eyes. But it appeared more as a gentle heat than a smoldering fire.

“Thank you. For everything. You’ve done so much for me and you’ve helped a lot of people these past few days. You’ve done so much and I don’t even know how I could repay you.”

Kyoshi raised an eyebrow at the thought of Rangi having to repay her in any way, it seemed like a silly idea.

“Well thank you for always believing in me, even after everything. I don’t think I would have gotten this far if it wasn’t for you. You may be my firebending sifu and bodyguard, but you're also the most important person in my life.”

Rangi tried to hide her face, she was bright red now. But she was also smiling, laughing slightly. Kyoshi did the same. The sun started to shimmer off of the spring water, illuminating the two.

As Rangi was trying to cease her awkward laughs, she spoke again. “I wish I could say something more meaningful than ‘I love you.’”

Kyoshi didn’t really know what she meant at first, but then it hit her. Saying “I love you” didn’t properly convey how she felt for her. She wanted to say something stronger. Kyoshi smiled again.

“I have an idea….”

Then suddenly she gave Rangi a quick and playful kiss. When Kyoshi eventually pulled back, Rangi stood still for a moment with her face even more flushed than before. Then she returned the kiss, this time it lasted a bit longer. Afterwards they slowly separated, both laughing again.

“Yeah, I guess that's one way to say it,” Rangi said, trying to catch her breath while chuckling.

To Kyoshi, this felt like reliving the moment they both learned how they felt for one another. But now, they had their past behind them. It was like doing it again for the first time, kissing the woman she loved next to the shimmering water.

Then they felt something brush their legs. Kyoshi and Rangi looked down to see the little fox in between them. It’s tail was moving back and forth from Kyoshi to Rangi.

Kyoshi kneeled down to pet the little creature, its head extending out to feel Kyoshi’s fingers. Rangi sat down with her, looking as Kyoshi gently petted the fox.

“I’ve seen this one quite a few times around here, I think it might be following me.”

Rangi extended her hand out to pet the fox. Now it was having a hard time picking who to accept scratches from.

“Do you think it might be your animal guide?”

Kyoshi gave Rangi a confused glance.

“They say the Avatar has an animal guide that helps them through their life. Sometimes they meet at an early age or maybe they meet later on in life. But if this one has been leading you here, there's a good chance it might be your guide.”

Right as she said that, the fox suddenly moved into Rangi’s lap, asking to be scratched more. Her focus shifted to the fox, playing with the tiny creature. Kyoshi watched both Rangi and the fox with loving eyes.

“Yeah,” Kyoshi said, watching the fox beginning to fall asleep in Rangi’s lap. “I think you might be right.”

They both stared at the small creature, finally breathing slowly with its eyes closed. The two of them then sat together, staring at the glimmer of the sun against the water. They sat in a comfortable, blissful silence before Rangi brought up a question they were both thinking.

“I wonder what we’ll name it….”

#avatar #atla #the rise of kyoshi #the shadow of kyoshi #kyoshi #rangi #yangchen #atuat #tsok #trok #fan fic #to heal part 6 #to heal chapter 6

[misanthropecopy]

@geobadge​ asked:

"And here I was, thinking I'd lost you."

        “And here I was, thinking you were dead. A shame cockroaches have a nasty habit, of staying alive,” Psyche telepathically retorted back, drone dripping with sarcasm. Rather than being in front of him though, legendary was in a cave system with Team Rocket’s forces surrounding every entrance and exit. To the naked eye, it seemed like Mewtwo was cornered, but situation was actually FAR from such events. This time it was the genetic Pokemon who lured mafia in. 

         Giovanni had crossed a line, when he burned down the village; her HOME. In response Psyche took every precaution, when going out to find a new one. She wasn’t going to let such atrocious human beings like him despoil and obliterate the closest thing Stein had towards a safe haven, much less some place where surrogate family temporarily resided in. She had spotted Rocket’s drones, through the eyes of Pokemon residing miles away, when searching for a new residence. Luckily, she was already in an entirely different region then the one others occupied by then. In turn clone opted to lead violent gang on, make them think they cornered her amidst some special place; an abandoned quarry within Kalos.

         “Tell me, Giovanni? Can you not smell the stench of rotten eggs?” she questioned, as the grunts started creeping near entrances like Sharpedo closing in on some carcass. “There’s a few other things, that smell like it. Your rotting soul and gas.”

         Without hesitation Mewtwo ignited one fire blast inside center of mine; engulfing area in a fiery inferno. Exploding flames spewed from all the entrances, burning alive every individual who got near. Combustions rumbled the earth, prompting rockslides. Legendary however was safe, inside a quick protect that she conjured up. Swiftly she then burst through the solid rock, making her OWN exit and absconding uninhabited tunnels as they collapsed in on themselves. 

         Giovanni would KEEP loosing her, so long as she had anything to say about it. Psyche may have to stay away from the others all day and might not even come back tonight, until she made certain mafia lost track of her. But still she would endure such trials, if it meant keeping her family, the clones and even Stein briefly safe from horrid man. 

#geobadge #BEYOND MY LIMITS (ic) #NOT A THOUGHT GOES UNHEARD (answered ask) #Psyche vc: Well guess I'm missing dinner tonight :') #Death tw// #Violence tw// #((death warning cause lets face it)) #((some grunts probably were murdered in that stunt :'D //SHOT))

[chessdaze]

YEAR TWO OF BEING LATE TO KH OC WEEK!!! but I had the energy today and my internet is out so I can’t work (using my phone’s hotspot rn with my laptop) - might as well be productive. Plus I’ve loved all the stuff @khoc-week​ has been reblogging from artists and writers alike so I really just wanted to participate even though I said earlier I wasn’t going to this year.

 Day 1 (August 2nd): Introductions – Whether you are returning or this is your first time, introduce us to the OC(s) you’ll be focusing on for the week!   Show us a picture or a one shot that explains who they are. What do they like? Dislike? Give us the run down!

Last year I talked about Atlas, one of my (many) KHX OCs, this year I’m going to talk about Sid! One of my OCs from one of my original worlds. Him and Atlas are loosely (very loosely) connected, so I thought it would be a good idea.

His real name is Siegfried Jasper Gate - but he insists everyone call him Sid and will not be happy if you say his real name. He started out as my attempt to give KH their own ‘Cid’ character. Yes we have the Cid in Radiant Garden and I love that old man but I wanted one more connected to the overall KH plot. And then it spiraled out of control and I ended up making an entirely new wold so there’s that.

The left design is considered a ‘before’ look and the right ones are his current look. He was exiled from the main hub city of his world (both called Cindergate) with his two best friends (because trios), and end up living in the wild with his friends and a handful of other people who were also exiled from the city. He has a bit of an attitude problem, overall distrusting of strangers and can even be a bit of an ass - but he means well. He pushes himself to his limits to make sure those under his care are safe and sound - he gives up his own resources to those younger than him so they can be a little stronger and healthier, even if he becomes weaker. He’ll complain about anything except about the people around him, because they mean too much to him.

Under the cut is what I’ve written about his world and then a short biography that I’ve had written up for ages. Have fun.

the world trapped in a desert 

The Basics

Cindergate is a city that has seemingly seen disasters, parts of the city are being rebuilt and other parts completely abandoned and falling apart. It’s cut off from the vast desert around it by a large, also crumbling, gate. The city has a mix of technology, though seems to shun anything too ‘high tech’. 

The city has a population of tough individuals who know how to survive in harsh conditions. Most of the population in this world are human, with occasional animals who can also survive the harsh sun and heat. These people are ruled over by one family - who govern and help make and enforce laws. Because of this the head of the family is often referred to as ‘sheriff’. The family keeps laws strict in the town. There is one law in particular that the sheriff is always eager to punish those for breaking-

The Keyblade Wielder Ban

The people of Cindergate are aware of the keyblade, heartless, the worlds, etc - however they consider Keyblade wielders evil, no matter who they are or what their motivations may be. They believe that the wielders are dragging darkness into the world and are the reason so many heartless live in the desert that surrounds the city. The city has to constantly beat the heartless back, and are the reason why a good portion of the city has been abandoned or is always needing to be rebuilt. 

It has been the tradition of the world for a while that if a wielder is found, they are to be branded as a traitor to the city - both metaphorically and literally. After a trial to determine if someone is a wielder or not - they are branded with a mark in the shape of a keyhole. Then they are dragged through the city and out to the gates that surround it. The wielders are then exiled, pushed out to the near lifeless desert. The people of the city will often attack them with weapons or throw objects at them to make sure they don’t try to run back into the city. They consider the wielders ‘sacrifices’ to the heartless to keep them at bay. 

At times the heartless in the desert will get the better of the wielders with no training. Those who manage to survive their first day and night have the chance to come across a safehaven made by wielders in the reaches of the desert and on the edges of a canyon. 

Landscape.

The city is the mix of a steampunk and wild west setting. There are some technology around the city but it’s big, clunky, and steam or coal powered. The part of the city that has been abandoned has a chance of heartless sneaking in, and so there are people here who patrol at night on occasion but besides that at times kids sneak into the area to play - but it’s strictly forbidden to do so and they will be punished if they do.

The desert surrounding the city is vast and nearly lifeless. Aside from the heartless, there are few plants and animals that live there.

Past the nearly lifeless desert is an area of plateaus and canyons. Within this area those who have been exiled from the city attempt to make a living. They find items that the people of cindergate ‘sacrifice’ to the heartless, (pieces of machinery, cloth, food, etc) and try to repurpose it for their own needs. There’s a bit more life in this area, but not much in terms of subsistence. 

The Survivors 

The wielders and those who were exiled with them (family members who hid them, other accomplices, and even people who were falsely convicted of being a wielder) have been managing to survive so far, though it’s a constant struggle. They’ve made houses out of spare pieces of wood, tarp, scrap metal, and hide themselves in as much shade as they possibly can. 

Some practice with their keyblades in order to get a handle on their abilities and fight off heartless that come near the safe haven. Others completely shun the fact that they can use a keyblade and refuse to wield it. Those who are not wielders try to contribute by making food or volunteering for other odd jobs. There are also wielders dedicated to finding a way off world.

AND NOW THAT THAT’S OUT OF THE WAY -

Sid’s about:

Born to the ruling family of Cindergate, Sid had everything handed to him on a silver platter. And he hated it. He couldn’t wrap his head around the strict rules of the town or the terrible court system. Any time he would try to speak up on this though was met with punishment from his parents. So he decided to bide his time, becoming their perfect ‘puppet’ so that he could become the leader one day and change things for the better.

While still considered a bit of a rebel, his parents at least ‘admired his change of heart’ and let him walk around Cindergate freely. While growing up he made two friends - a girl name Mari and a boy named Helio. The three of them were practically inseparable, they were some of the only ones that didn’t care who Sid was related to. He could be himself around them, and so he vowed to keep them safe most out of everyone in the town. 

Mari revealed to the boys one day that she was a keyblade wielder - which was a terrible discovery. Keyblade Wielders were banned from Cindergate and it she was found to be a wielder she would be arrested, branded, and exiled to the harsh desert that surrounded the town. The desert that was filled with heartless. At the same time Helio revealed himself to be a wielder as well - having been one of the longest out of all of them, since he was a child. He knew better than anyone what would happen to wielders who got caught as his mother had been cast out when he was a child. Sid promised that he wouldn’t let them get caught and that he would lift the ban, they just needed to keep their keyblades hidden until he became the leader of the town.

This was easier said than done, especially since Sid would come to be a wielder as well. An old friend of his family invited Sid to his deathbed. This old man revealed how close Sid’s father and him used to be, and how they had a dream to make Cindergate a thriving place. But Sid’s father had done nothing more than oppress the people and make the ban more strict than it needed to be. So the old man had a solution - to pass on the power of the keyblade to Sid. He had kept it hidden all of his life, hoping that one day Sid’s father would change his mind on the ban - but he never did. In his last moments he forced Sid to take the power of the keyblade from him, saying it was Sid’s responsibility now, before passing. 

Sid was terrified and furious with the power he had been given. Yes, he had been wanting to make CinderGate a better place for wielders and non wielders alike but - he didn’t want it to be like this. Still, he wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip through his fingers. He told his friends of his new found gift and worked to become even more like the 'perfect’ leader his parents wanted him to be, just so he could take over quicker and get the stupid ban taken down. 

Not long after this, Helio and Mari were caught for being keyblade wielders. Sid stood up to his parents to try and get them to see reason. When they still wouldn’t listen he revealed himself as a wielder in front of the whole town - saying if they were going to throw out his friends they would have to throw out him as well.

And they did, but not before branding him as a traitor - literally. They burned the keyhole shaped brand onto the side of his face before exiling him,Helio, and Mari out of the town. The three ran until they couldn’t anymore, fought off heartless, then collapsed with laughter - surprised but grateful they were still alive. 

A while longer of traveling lead them to a survivor camp. Other people like them who had been exiled from Cindergate. It wasn’t much, but it became home for the three wielders. Sid took it upon himself to improve the day to day lives of the survivors by building various machines and other contraptions to make life easier for them.But still, it wasn’t enough. Thanks to his parents hoard of keyblade wielder knowledge (because how else were they supposed to fight off such a 'threat’ without an entire library full of knowledge?), he knew of other worlds and he knew that the keyblade could get them there. He just wasn’t sure how to unlock the power. None of the survivors were masters by any means, some of them didn’t even have a keyblade - and were friends or family of wielders exiled or falsely accused and wanted nothing to do with the keyblade. 

Sid, taking another burden onto his shoulders, did the only thing he could think he could accomplish - he made himself and his two friends keyblade armor. He hoped that with the armor they could brave the passages in between worlds and find a way to get all the survivors to a new home.

Images of where sid’s scar is, he uses the braids to cover it up as best he can.

#khoc week #khocweek2020 #kingdom hearts oc #original character #kingdom hearts original character #kingdom hearts original world #kh original world #my art #Siegfried Jasper Gate