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#they're all realm denizens

alienzil · 6 months

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DP x DC Prompt/notion # 4

So Danny has the classic reveal gone bad scenario and the Fentons try to capture him to "tear him apart molecule by molecule".

Danny escapes into the ghost zone with the help of Sam, Tucker and Jazz but he's in bad shape.

What Danny had never been told is that newly formed ghosts like himself are considered babies until they're at least a century old. Baby ghosts generally either have parents if they're born in the realms or get adoptive parents shortly after forming and are highly dependent on their guardians until their core is fully matured. Every ghost can sense a baby and has the instinctual urge to protect them (especially if they haven't been adopted yet). Every baby ghost has the instinctual urge to find a compatible parent or parents. A baby won't imprint on just anyone and will hide or run from most ghosts until they find one that they can imprint on. The majority of the ghosts that have met Danny never knew he was a baby, both because he already had his living parents and his emotional connection with them was close enough to satisfy his ghostly need for a parental bond and because, with his abnormally high power level, it never would have occurred to them to think he might be an infant. A newborn ancient is exceptionally rare and your average denizen of the realms will have never seen one. Basically, to your average ghost, Danny feels like he's eons old and any hint of "baby" they get from him mostly just ticks them off because they think he's mocking them and pretending to be less powerful than they know he is. The other ancients knew of course, but they also knew that Danny's human guardians were satisfying his needs for now and most assumed he would be adopted once they passed. Half a century or so isn't very long to wait after all and the new baby is half human so it's probably best to let these things happen naturally.

Knowing none of this, when Jack and Maddie rejected Danny it severed their connection and the backlash of losing that bond caused his Phantom self to naturally revert to a smaller form that more closely matched his actual age as a ghost. Still in shock and operating almost entirely on instinct and emotion, Danny started to search the Realms for what he had lost. He needed to find his parents.

*****

Meanwhile, John Constantine had a problem with an upstart cult that had summoned an interdimensional...something. He really didn't care. Whatever it was, was behind a barrier they'd thrown up that he couldn't breach. He'd be perfectly willing to leave them to their own mess except their whole damn town was behind the barrier so now it was his problem to fix.

Interdimensional problems call for interdimensional solutions so he'd called Bob. Bob wasn't really his name (nor was he really a he) but he hadn't objected to the moniker or the pronouns John had given him so Bob it was. Bob was an eldritch nightmare of a creature who kept the bulk of his true form politely out of this dimension and only just barely inched in for a quick visit every 20 years or so. Constantine had worked with him before, he was a pretty nice bloke for an unknowable monstrosity.

Bob fed on energy and his usual diet consisted largely of the background energy of the cosmos but he liked a special treat now and then (who doesn't?). So John made a deal with him. Bob took care of his little cult problem and John spent a very... ahem... "energetic" evening with Bob in exchange. Not really a hardship on John's part, Bob wanted more energy, not less, and knew a thing or two about how to get it.

*****

The creature known as Bob was preparing to withdraw the small portion of his presence that was currently on Earth with the human called John Constantine when another part of him noticed something. Bob smiled to himself (as much as Bob could smile that is). What a wonderful coincidence that the Constantine human's energy would be so perfectly matched to this other beings and that Bob was here at the exact right moment to assist with their meeting!

"I thank you again for sharing your energy John Constantine. It was delicious as always."

"Don't mention it mate. Look me up next you're in town and feeling a bit peckish. Always happy to oblige." John replied with a smirk.

"I will heed your words John Constantine and seek your presence upon my return. As a token of my affection for you, a small gift that you might enjoy until we meet again." Bob briefly opened a portal between the Infinite Realms and the House of Mystery as he left. He hoped his human friend would enjoy the gift. Bob had never spawned himself but he'd heard parenthood was one of life's great joys.

"Gift?" John had just enough time to say as he was hit in the face by a chirping, wriggling, excited creature.

"Oi!" John stumbled back a step as he reached up to try and pry the thing off his face. He managed to grab ahold of the damn beast and held it out at an arms length to get a look at it. Deprived of his face, it wrapped its body tightly around his arm and nuzzled its head into the palm of his hand.

John stared at the creature. It was the roughly the length of his arm, mostly black with white markings and white floating hair on a human shaped head and face, complete with glowing green eyes. It was vaguely snake shaped...or... one might say...tentacle shaped...

John gulped and pictured Bob. Bob's appearance, or what little bit of his appearance John was able to perceive, was a writhing mass of black tentacles that glowed a bright, luminous green.

So, the "gift" Bob had left him mostly had Bob's coloring and was kinda Bob shaped. Except it had small human arms and hands and a tiny mostly human head and face and... was that his nose?!

"Oh bollocks, I'm a dad!"

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #John Constantine is Danny's dad #Except he actually isn't #Except he really is now since Danny imprinted on him #Little baby man #Bob the eldritch entity #Prompt/notion

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wanderingsorcerer · 1 day

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I love the Dead Boy Detective Agency and I just have a quick question.

Death knows all of her denizens in her realm, that means no spirit can actually hide from her. She's letting the boys do what they want because she views them as actively helping the other ghosts find closure.

I don't think she'll take them until they're ready to leave.

So my question is

" does she just kind of laugh every time she sees the boys skedaddle away from her?"

#Neil Gaiman #dead boy detective agency #dead boy detectives #asking via a blog post in hopes he sees

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theaspsaroaceimagines · 3 months

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You guys really liked being the god of Death, so get ready for

MORE Hazbin Hotel x God of Death! Reader

You're feeling particularly tired, having spent your entire existence working with no rest.

So you decide to take a vacation.

You send a letter to Heaven:

Dear Heaven, I am taking a much needed vacation, so no one will be dying for a while. Do not call me, I will not answer. --Death

And then you leave your post for the first time ever.

Of the three realms, Hell is the most accepting of your presence, so you go there for your vacation.

You arrive and decide to stay in the first hotel you see.

--And, to your surprise, it's being run by Lucifer's daughter?

"Oh my goodness! You're Luci's kid, aren't you? Hi!"

Charlie, who's never met you before, is bewildered.

"Huh? Umm... yeah? You know him?" "'Know him?' Of course I do! Your dad and I go WAAAY back!"

You quickly realize that Charlie has no idea who you are.

"Oh my! Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself! I'm Death."

Needless to say, things start off awkward after your formal introduction.

Charlie tries to tell you that you can't stay there, that the Hazbin Hotel is for sinners.

But explaining why involves explaining the Hazbin Hotel's purpose.

You're ecstatic to hear that she's trying to rehabilitate sinners.

Especially since it's with the goal of permanently ending the Extermination.

See, what the denizens of Hell and the exorcists don't understand is that it's actually impossible to destroy a soul unless you're that soul's Creator.

And there's only one Creator of souls, and they're not into destruction.

So all the Extermination does is send a bunch of sinner's souls to Limbo. Which is your home.

And, for thousands of years, you've had no idea what to do with these souls getting shoved into your home. You've just been kind of keeping them in stasis. It's very crowded in Limbo.

Limbo was never meant to hold so many souls; it's a transitional space, not a destination.

Spoilers for ep 6 under the cut:

When you find out about the court hearing in Heaven, you're pissed.

They had a hearing about whether souls could be transferred between the two afterlives, and you weren't informed or invited?!

You're going to slap Sera the next time you see her.

#Death Deity! Reader #hazbin hotel reader insert #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #hazbin hotel x death! reader #hazbin hotel spoilers

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broadwaytheanimatedseries · 6 months

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Okay but hear me out!

Dead On Main Revolutionary Ghost Utena AU:

Canonically, Jason focuses his rage to summon the All Blade

Ghost Prince Danny would have the Ring of Rage, but not the Crown of Fire yet

I hypothesize to you that the two are connected, and not only that, but that wearing the ring allows one to draw the All Blade out of the other. Like, literally.

Because of this, summoning the All Blade of their own accord is the mark of a ghost powerful enough to be the ghost king's betrothed, and whatever other ghosts were in the running are pushed back in line as the All Blade wielder is now at the front.

It is part of ancient ceremony that predates Pariah as Ghost King and dates all the way back to the first Royal of the infinite realms, King Lazarus.

The connection itself is no more than a pull towards each other, a fascination at most to make an easier base to build a genuine and in this case, human connection.

To become actually engaged Jason would have to willingly appear before the Ghost Prince and allow him to draw the All Blade out of him, something he is not very excited for and might actually have other lasting impact besides the engagement.

Y'see Jason isn't a halfa the way Danny is, he came back twice in a short amount of time between those two instances, and while the second time was Lazarus induced, no one really knows how he woke up in his grave and broke himself out. There are theories but Clockwork was watching and even he doesn't seem to know for sure, so it's really anyone's guess.

So what the engagement ceremony could do, potentially, is either solidify his halfa status by sheer amount of ectoplasm transfered by the act, or alternatively it could just kill him on the spot and then he'd probably become a full ghost.

Now, neither of these sound great to Jason, but he also doesn't like that a bunch of ghosts have been trying to fight him for their Prince's hand in marriage, something they can only do while the Prince is still not engaged to anyone.

Meanwhile, Danny doesn't appreciate that as soon as he came of age all these marriage proposals started being thrown at him, he's known some of these ghosts since he was a teenager so that's really weird for one, and he gets that most of them are just trying to secure their happiness and not to mention their future safety as the mortal world seems to be moving on with the anti ecto act, which had lead many a specter to retreat back to the realms, causing a lot of unrest as the realms become more crowded and politically tense between factions who have not needed to interact for a while now.

It would seem the Amity portal and even Danny fighting the ghosts and sending them back through it was the break many of the realms' denizens desperately needed, but now with that option no longer being safe, as even their king can't protect them from the GIW when they're gaining so much support from governments across the world, tensions are running high in the realms and it seems that it's every ghost for themselves.

Danny doesn't really resent any of the ghosts for doing what they feel they must to make sure they aren't destroyed in what is shaping out to be a realms wide war at this point, even as he works overtime with his council to prevent that from happening, and he understands they obviously don't expect any actual marital kind of relationship from him, which is at least a little reassuring even if the idea of being married to any of them is still very weird, but he can't help but think there could be a better solution here that he's missing.

And then he feels it, a pull telling him he's overlooked something, someone important.

It's like a fire engulfing his ice core but not burning it somehow, just as it does not cool the fire around it.

Two opposite forces meant to cancel each other out, somehow instead keeping perfect equilibrium with one another.

He talks to Frostbite and Clockwork and finds out what that pull is and takes their advice to follow it.

Jason doesn't realize he just altered the source of all his recent problems to his location as he draws the All Blade to fend off yet another "challenger to the Prince's hand" whatever the hell that means, as finally one of them was dumb enough to try to use actual magic against him.

However, he soon feels the answering pull back from Danny as the latter decides to use the power in his ring to open the portal, feeling that this candidate should at least know he's coming to talk to him.

It's almost the opposite, he feels the fire of the pit madness flaring a bit, but instead of immediately trying to spread, to threaten to consume him unless he tempers it himself, it is still burning just as strong and wild, but kept in one place by an icy chill, an aura of cold, clear fury and calm in equal measure, it doesn't thaw from the fire anymore than his fire dies from the lack of heat around it.

They sustain each other, impossibly.

So Jason and Danny finally meet and give each other the rundown of their side of things and agree that maybe the best bet to not only stop ghosts from attacking Jason and proposing to Danny, but perhaps the key to overthrowing the GIW so the realms' denizens don't have to afterlive in fear and portals can be reinstated to allow travel through the realms and back, not to mention keeping the GIW from going after Jason himself who by their definition is certainly considered an ecto entity, is in fact to go through with the Ring and Blade ceremony.

Jason, at this point, is more of Earth than Danny, who has unfortunately had to step back from his normal mortal life when he turned 18 to take care of realms business, despite still only being Prince.

He was meant to have more time but with the GIW advancing like they had been it was in the realms' best interest as well as his own that he decree the realms going no contact with humans for the foreseeable future.

It's been nearly 3 years since then and they are still getting ghosts back from parts of the world who have been avoiding humans as much as they can.

As soon as he turned 21 all this ghost marriage nonsense has has been making his job of protecting the ghosts in all the realms a lot more difficult, so when ghosts realized he didn't want to be challenged every day for his hand, they went to the next best thing, the top candidate.

Now, Phantom was saying that he's gonna marry the guy they've all been trying to defeat (and failing, to his credit, so at least he was worthy of being top pick)

A lot of them were upset or disappointed, but he explained how this arrangement could potentially help out everyone in the long run and most got on board when they heard the new plan.

Now the only problem is that getting engaged, as mentioned previously, is a ceremony that could prove dangerous to Jason and "not to be insensitive about it, but if you die and become a ghost that sorta defeats one of the main purposes of us even doing this." Danny points out.

"So what's our plan, Your Majesty?" "It's Royal Highness, I'm not king yet, thank the ancients for that." "Yeah yeah, so what are we doing, Your Royal Whinyness?" "Rude. Anyway, there's a chance you might become a full halfa during the process, that means getting a second form and a fully developed core and powers besides the All Blade, which would be better than you dying. So the best way to ensure that outcome, as much as any outcome can be guaranteed anyway, is to start the process of making you a halfa before the ceremony."

"Okay? How do we do that?" "Well, we gotta get some ecto in you - " "aren't you made of that? This better not be a pickup line" "no, not like that! I told you, this marriage doesn't have to be anything more than a contract, I'm about as thrilled about having to get married to save my people as you are about doing this to stop ghost from kicking your ass on a weekly basis." "Excuse me? I won all those fights!" "Yeah, after getting tossed into brick walls 5 times per ghost" "not every ghost tossed me into walls. Box Bitch did throw crates at me tho, that hurt." "Holyshit, Boxy is not messing around anymore huh? Well, makes sense, he's a father now. He doesn't wanna raise his little girl in these conditions. Still glad he lost, but I'm surprised Lunch Lady even agreed to him trying."

So they start Jason on his ecto diet and in the meantime the batfam is brought up to date about everything that's happening and they get to work, Batman gathers the JL to push back on the GIW's fuckery and all of Jason's siblings have an engagement party and a bachelor bash to plan. The girls decide to plan a Bachelorette party for Danny because he deserves to have a break as well.

Jason hates his stupid family, but Danny seems happy to be part of one again after so long, so he sucks it up and plays along.

It's possible that maybe while preparing and planning and helping each other and working together, Jason has gotten to know and developed a fondness for Danny.

Okay so maybe he's a sappy fuck who fell head over heels in love with him in the span of like a month, but this is still just a contract to Danny, and Jason isn't going to push for or expect anything more. Danny doesn't need that kind of stress in his life rn.

Danny has been freaking out since he met his soon to be husband because holyshit that's Red Hood, that is THE Red Hood! No wonder he passed the trial of the All Blade, and the way that fire burned around Danny's core, a fire he now recognized as the warmth answering from Jason's own, made him realize that this is way more than just a contract to him. Still, he'd been part of the realms for a lot longer than Jason ans he was their future king. Jason as part of this contract would be his equal but until the marriage was sealed, he was still technically Jason’s superior. And it didn't feel right to take adventage of that and suddenly change the terms of this deal, to make Jason in any way feel pressured by Danny's own feelings. No, this was just a contract, like Jason wanted it to be. He would keep that promise to him.

Jazz and Babs get together to help their idiot baby brothers figure out their unrequited love is actually very much mutual pining and they're just being stupid.

Anyway the marriage ceremony is a different ritual from the engagement ceremony, the All Blade wielder summons it and presents it to the wearer of the ring, who sheaths it back into the summoner's core, symbolizing that they both have power over the Blade but it belongs to its wielder, and even the king himself may not keep it without permission. The Blade as a manifestation of Jason's will.

(And as a bonus, we know Jason is a literary nerd so he recognizes and appreciates the romance novel tropes happening to him, especially in the high king's court, but he is not a weeb. So I don't think he'd recognize the Utena references happening to him. But you know who I think would? You know who is a weeb who loves swords and is soooo jealous of Todd and his husband right now? It's Damian. Damian's fucking seething that he doesn't get a magic sword. He's so pissed and it's very funny.)

#dee's aus #dee writes #dc x dp #dead on main #ghost king danny #ghost bride Jason #rgu inspired au #mostly just the imagery #very loosley based on Prince Utena and Rose Bride Anthy #this was supposed to be just a silly goofy haha idea but now its got so much lore

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cuubism · 2 years

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Dream makes Hob Prince Consort in the Dreaming, but does not tell Hob because why would he ever communicate anything. It's just ceremonial anyway. Right? Right.

Anyway Hob lives in blissful ignorance for several years. Sure all the Dreaming denizens are super nice to him but that's just how dreams are, right? It's cool. Nothing weird here.

Then Dream goes missing. Hob's freaking the fuck out -- the last time Dream went missing was fucking Not Good after all -- and as if that wasn't bad enough, Lucienne comes up to him and is like, so... Lord Morpheus left you in charge of the Dreaming in his absence.

Hob: this better be a fucking joke

Lucienne: no, you're prince consort so according to the royal scriptures of the Dreaming you're in charge.

Hob: hang on I'm WHAT so I'm WHAT

Hob: was Dream AWARE of this when he made me consort

Lucienne: *derisive look*

Hob: but I'm just a GUY I can't run a dream realm *shakes fist at absent Dream* my beloved asshole you can't just drop this shit on me oh my GOD

Lucienne: well someone's gotta do it. To be honest I'm still tired from last time.

Hob: well. Uh. *shrugs* guess I'm running the Dreaming now?

----

A year later Dream returns. Hob's been looking for him the whole time but it was kind of fucking difficult when he also had to run a whole REALM.

Turns out Dream was fine he just went on like, a jaunt to another galaxy for dream inspiration and forgot about time dilation in space travel. No big deal. Anyway.

Dream gets back and he's like oops hope Hob hasn't struggled too much, that was only supposed to be three days... lol...

So turns out Hob is not very good at being a King in the way Dream is but he IS very good at just bringing major Dad Energy to all the little dreams and nightmares, just being like the Cool University Professor of the entire Dreaming. So Dream gets back and Hob has managed to befriend EVERYONE in the Dreaming. He's hosting "family dinner" at the palace? He's doing Forums where people can bring their complaints? He instituted set work hours to create work life balance?

Dream is like What In The Democracy Is This. What have you done to my realm.

Hob's like We're Vibing! :) Come on we're having a blast!

And drags Dream to a fucking party going on at the palace? There are drinks? They're doing karaoke? Is Dream having a stroke?

It's all so foreign that he almost calls down a tornado and just obliterates the palace. But Hob pulls him close and makes him dance to the music, and leans in and says, "You know it doesn't have to be all fire and brimstone and seriousness all the time. It's okay to show them you love them."

And Dream is like "I DO love them they're my creations."

And Hob is like, "I know but it's also okay for them to SEE it."

Dream looks around at the ridiculous party. True to Hob's words, the dreams and nightmares look more relaxed and happier than they've been in a while-- at least, when Dream's been around. He wonders what else he doesn't get to see. What they're afraid to show him.

He says, "I went to the Andromeda galaxy for new dream inspiration, but perhaps I should have been looking in you, Hob Gadling."

Hob's like "aw that's sweet-- hang on you went to the WHERE???"

Dream just chuckles and doesn't elaborate, and Hob gives up and pulls him close again, holds him and dances them to the beat of the swing music one of the Music Dreams has just put on. Dream says, "I see that while your leadership skills are... unconventional... I made the right choice in leaving you in charge of the Dreaming."

"Yeah, about that, next time you're gonna spontaneously make me Prime Minister of some place can you let me know in ADVANCE??"

"Well, you wanted fun. Where would the fun be in that?"

#the sandman #dreamling #more shitposting and dumb headcanons!

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stealingyourbones · 1 year

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TW for mild unreality

So in a lot of DP x DC crossovers I notice that everyone instantly makes the connection of infinite realms = ghosts. But what if they didn't? I mean, to most humans ghost equals dead person. Not everyone in the infinite realms is dead.

Instead, what if everyone thought it was a realm similar to the Fae Realms? A place where everything is only as real as you want it to be, where the land itself lives and breathes and changes it's form every which when. Perhaps that's why the Fentons think of ghosts as mischievous semi-sentient tricksters, they misread some older texts talking about them.

And they could be right in a way. What if dead ghosts are actually the souls of people who caught the attention of the realms/someone in them and so the realms grabbed their soul upon death to keep. If liminality means you're a guaranteed ghost then maybe that's the realms' way of keeping track of Interesting People so they know when they're up for grabs (they were patient and let you live out your life without interference, it's only polite).

But then, why are ghosts so quick to jump to fistfights now instead of battles of wit? Well that's because of Pariah Dark. The older kings were all the cleverest, the smartest, and perhaps Pariah was clever in a way (he turned a battle of wits he would surely lose into a battle of power after all, and that takes some wit in and of itself) but he valued power and physical might more and so the realms changed to reflect that. And then Danny came along. A small baby child who beat Pariah AT HIS OWN GAME. A child who employs both might and wit in equal measure because he knows the value of both. That small child, king of Ice and Snow, Little Prince, Boy King, a Strategist, a Warrior, that tiny kid is now the King. And the realms change once more to reflect that.

So when Danny is crowned King the ghost zone goes back to being similar to Faerie, only with more fights because Danny is not afraid to straight up punch someone (he's kinda feral like that).

So on the DC side of things maybe there's a summoning (accidental or cult induced), or Danny ends up in the watchtower/Gotham/important place, or maybe the League decide they have enough time to scout out Amity Park and figure out what's going on. They meet Danny, who calls himself a ghost, and are like "You're not like the other ghosts I've met but I don't know enough to refute that" and eventually it gets back to Constantine about this "ghost" boy, and he FREAKS OUT. This is an Infinite Realms denizen, a people similar to Unseelie Sidhe in all the legends, him being a ghost just means he was (or would be, time likes to wander in the realms. Sometimes the present is the future and that past has Not Yet Occurred) interesting enough to nab when he died! And they've been TALKING to him?? That's how you get their attention! You don't want their attention! It's bad enough that Red Hood has a guaranteed fast track there with the sheer amount of Realms Energy swirling around him ever since his resurrection he doesn't need any more people putting up massive I AM HERE signs willy nilly! Just because most denizens are willing to wait until you die to try and steal you away, that doesn't mean that all of them are. And now that Pariah Dark is gone, and the New King is perfectly willing to entertain wit and humor in his court once more, well. It's free real estate.

TLDR the Infinite Realms are Fae-Adjacent and Constantine is Terrified.

I-

this is just incredible. I have no words. I am in awe.

#bones replies #halfcybergremlin #dpxdc #dp x dc #danny phantom

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hypewinter · 2 months

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Idea for you based on a prompt I remember seeing a few months ago but can't find.

Phantom leads a emergency evacuation from a crumbling Realms as his first act as the King Infinite

Ok but I can imagine this. Just a giant portal opening up in downtown Metropolis and thousands of denizens of the Infinite Realms come pouring out. The JLA panics because they think it's an invasion until a boy in a cape shaped by the stars and a crown built from ice approaches them. He explains that humans (the GIW) are invading and threatening to destroy the Realms as well as destabilizing all of Reality as they know it. They've already breached the barrier and are destroying everything in their path. The effects of which can already be felt. He's preparing to confront them but doesn't want his citizens caught up in the battle (or the destruction of the Realms if worse comes to worse) so he's asking for temporary refuge for them.

This could cause some chaos though as there are a lot of residents of the Infinite Realms fleeing to this Earth specifically. Like A LOT. Some of them are going to different planets or even different Earths but a lot of them are coming here because of one reason or another.

I wonder how the Justice League would handle this crisis or potential public backlash for that matter. Maybe they're also divided on how to welcome these new refugees.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #winter answers #thanks for the ask!#it always warms my heart when i get one

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moodymisty · 1 month

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Off The Beaten Path

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: This is technically a reheated meal, but Ao3 seemed to like it and it deserved a revision since it was the first smut I ever posted. I hope at least one person here likes it as well.

Summary: “Death! We’re-” A neutral voice interrupts you, already knowing what you were going to say. “You seemed quite fine with the location when it was just your hand.”

Relationships: Death/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, it's like 20% porn if that, Porn with feeling, No use of y/n, Outdoor sex, Established relationship, Fluff

Word count: 7,392

Ao3 Mirror

Your feet hurt.

As in really hurt, more than you had ever thought they possibly could. Your boots have been through so much in such a short period of time they're on the verge of truly falling apart, even after numerous small repairs. But those small repairs were like putting a bandage on a gaping wound, largely failing to stop their slow descent into complete disaster. You were partly wondering why Death had still insisted you come with, even if you’d said straight up you were going to slow him down.

And while you did technically slow Death down, as he would never let you forget, apparently you were enough help- or entertainment- that he kept bringing you along. Even if he’d try and act like he was forcing the words out, he never complained beyond the first initial shows of inconvenience.

It also helps that you actually enjoy talking to the denizens of the other realms like the Makers, the undead of the Eternal Throne, even Vulgrim; Whom he had to deal with this time around. Death seemed to have a hatred for loose ends, and with only one Death Tomb left for him to seal up, it entailed having to wretch the final key from Vulgrim's grimy, greedy hands.

All but shoving the bound pages into your hands he forced you to do it, standing a good ten meters back down the path with his arms crossed as if the mere sight of the demon was too appalling for him to go any further.

He was still positioned so that you were clearly in line of sight however, just in case.

You just find it all hilarious, trading Vulgrim for the Tomb key with little fanfare and refusing yet another lowball offer for your soul as he takes the pages from your grubby little mitts, before walking back down the dirt path and tugging on the frayed edges of Death’s scarf. You know he's aware that you've returned, it's just fun to annoy him now that you know that his attitude towards you is mostly bark.

“Finished?” His eyes slowly open, looking down on you and hefting himself off of the hillock he’d been leaning against with his arms crossed.

You dangle the prize off of your index finger in front of your chest, the size and weight of it quite considerable for a key.

“One key; No strings attached.”

Long, pale fingers take the key from you and casually examine it, a jewel of a different color than the others embedded in the handle's side. He tucks it away in a pocket, looking down as you smile and speak:

“Vulgrim says hello, by the way. He told me to give you his greeting and I figured I’d pass on the message. He seemed upset he didn't get to talk to you face to face.”

Death’s prolonged sigh only serves to feed your snicker, as he denies amusing you with a real response. When he turns and starts walking not long after, the sound of your boots stumbling on the dirt as you struggle to catch up pricks his ears.

Something Death has frequently caught himself doing was listening to the sound of said footsteps; The consistent beat of them not too far behind him. When you were bored and kicked rocks, or if you started to jog trying to catch back up with his significantly longer stride. If you started to slow down, or were unable to keep up he would sometimes make as if occupied by something to let you catch his pace again.

Death largely has no need of breaks, apart from very few circumstances. Necromancies require a significant part of his energy, sure, but only a few could manage to make him weary enough for any rest. he can count on his hands the amount of times he's had to do so. Humans however need it constantly, wearing down and tiring after what he considers not much effort at all.

Though even if Death would complain about it, he’ll always keep a keen eye on you for reasons he won't admit.

“I truly wonder how the human race has survived as long as it has, if this is the length of your specie's stamina.” Even if Death plays it off, he isn't immune to the sugar of your satisfied smile, walking beside him and swaying your arms back and forth. “Because we learned how to work smarter, not harder.” You turn to look up more fully at him, still trying to keep pace. “Besides the point; Weren’t you the one who insisted I come along with you anyways? You could’ve just left me with the Makers again.”

Death goes largely unaffected by your attempt at catching him in a corner, keeping his eyes ahead while continuing forward. “Because I don’t trust the Makers as far as I can throw them.” You highly doubt that was the reason, raising your eyebrows. He’d no problem trying to force you with them when he’d gone to fight the Guardian... Or when he attempted to forbid you from following him to the Death Plains.

“You can throw them pretty far, at least last time I checked.” The glaring look in Death’s eyes is more than enough to cover you in an icy heat; But in the end he doesn't verbally chastise you for the snarky comment. “That pup can’t tell his own feet apart- and his teacher has had his head caved far too many times.” You start to raise a hand, but quickly lower it once that icy stare returns to beam down right at you. You speak anyways however, just to poke at him. “What about Alya and Valus?”

The resulting change in energy is enough to dislodge Dust into flight from his perch atop Harvester, who is formed as a single long scythe against the expanse of Death’s back.

“You're not a forge, so I imagine they would have a hard time keeping sight of you for more than a second without trouble.” While you find it amusing he cares so much, even if disguised as irritation, you cross your arms and huff anyways. “You really think I have such bad judgment that I need a babysitter constantly?” Death doesn't miss a beat in responding to you, almost as if he had the response pre-prepared. “You choose to be in the company of a Horsemen. As well as throw yourself at anything that doesn’t immediately attempt to split you in two pieces. Yes, I do doubt your judgment about your own safety. Immensely.”

Ignoring his own self jab, you roll your eyes and keep walking even through the ache of your sore feet. Leave it to Death to find a way to make the mere act of befriending someone sound so haphazard.

Sure befriending Draven hadn't been your smartest idea, but it turned out fine, hadn't it?

But while it hasn't been the first time you've traveled with Death since knowing him, it is the first time since he had returned from the Well of Souls.

Not much has changed in hindsight; apart a generally lighter mood on your part and a tiny bit of an attitude change on Death’s. Unnoticeable, if you hadn't spent so long with him before; Noticing every little tiny tell he has that gives him away. But it was nice now, not having the fate of Earth heavy on your mind. It was nicer to have Death back again however, head held high as he examined the freshly trodden path in front of him.

When spring arrived in the Maker’s realm, it hadn’t much arrived with a graceful and even entrance; More so with a slam, the snow melting and giving way to millions of leaves in what seemed like just overnight. The evenings still get chilly, but you’d much prefer it then the freezing winds and sleet you’d been dealing with not too long ago.

In your effort to keep pace with the Horsemen you notice patches of odd looking flowers along the tree line, and are unable to resist the temptation to pluck one. It’s stem is soft in your grip, covered in a peach fuzz, and smells delightful when you take a whiff. The color is a soft blue, yellow in the middle, reminding you of something you’d find in a valley of rolling hills.

Death notices you fawning over it, but doesn’t comment. It's not like he isn't used to you finding entertainment in seemingly menial things.

It was one of the things that actually made you pleasant to be around; He's been so numbed to everything over his long and unforgiving lifetime, seeing someone's eyes light up over something so uninteresting is, nice. Every now and again he wonders what the world looks like through your eyes.

Until you suddenly stumble forward, thankfully catching yourself before your tired feet manage to send you toppling into the dirt.

“Keep looking at the path instead of plants, and you might not fall.”

Holding the plant in your hand, you roll it gently in your fingers to feel the soft fuzz again while scowling at Death. It fades quickly though, taking another whiff of its familiar sweet scent. The soft petals tickle your skin with the softest touch.

“It just reminded me of something,” Your voice trails off, running through the rest of your sentence in your head instead of actually speaking it. It wasn’t until Death calls out to you, that you realize you hadn’t actually spoken aloud.

“Well?” His sharp tone startles you for a moment, seeing his eyes looking down at you.

“Are you going to finish speaking, or leave me in suspense?” Almost having forgotten what you were going to say, you twirl the flower between your fingers again.

“There’s this cute little plant on Earth called a Snap Dragon,” You can't resist the urge to pluck a different flower, smelling that one as well. “Comes in a ton of different colors. When it starts to wither though, the flower looks like a skull.”

Death let out a huff, and a mumbled: 'How charming', but you were unable fully tell if he was being sarcastic, or was just amused by the description of such an odd little plant. The sentence he speaks after however seems to lean towards that he was the ladder.

“Do tell me it doesn’t bite, will you? I’ve had my fill of violent plants.” You shake your head and smile, letting out a soft laugh.

“No, no biting. Just smells nice.”

Not moments after you finish speaking you twist on your ankle again, the uneven and partly detached sole of your boot sending you off balance and almost crashing into the dirt. You manage to save yourself again, but the flowers in your grip get partly crushed at the stems.

One of Death’s hands quickly darts out to catch you, prepared this time, but returns to his side in a flash once you right yourself. Since it's now been the second time you’ve almost fallen, Death decides it might be a good time for you to sit; Before you actually take a real fall.

“Go sit, before you topple over into the mud.”

Confused, you look up at him after tossing the flowers gently down. Death was normally quite the one for punctuality, and to simply sit for awhile wasn’t much his type. At least as far as you've known him.

And while you’d normally be correct, he wasn’t in much of any actual hurry to clear this last Death Tomb. Even if he’d never say it out loud.

A slight clearing between a few of the trees is where you decide to plop for a moment, just enough off the path. Slipping your pack off of your back with one hand, you plop it onto the ground with little effort, given how light it was.

The sack was yet another thing from the Makers- who you were beginning to think were coddling you- pulling a blanket from it and holding it in both hands. Death sighs but continues to watch.

“Do you truly intend on setting up a camp?” You brush out the blanket and sit on it with a huff, looking up at Death. “Well I was just laying down a blanket, but now I’m all self-conscious about it.” Even if his iris isn’t visible with the Nephilim glow of his eyes, you can tell Death was rolling them.

Letting out a soft grunt as you sit, the first thing you do is lean forward and try to re-tie the laces of your boots; Not that it would do much, but at least they’d be snug again. “Don’t get comfortable. We’re not staying for long.” Death notices the frayed and quite honestly sad state of your current footwear, as you tie them unaware.

Of course out of all the things the Makers chose to lavish you with, a pair of good boots wasn’t one of them.

“So, any reason in particular we're not just using Despair right now?”

Death, standing in front of the tree directly to your right, slides down it until he was leaning against the trunk in a sit just off your blanket. His one leg is bent, supporting an elbow.

“If I summoned Despair every time I needed to travel somewhere, I’m quite sure the beast would come to hate me.”

You're sure there's more to it than that, but he just takes the opportunity for more sarcasm; And you won't get much more out of him than that. Unbeknownst to you however Death would struggle not to crook a corner of his mouth upward as you laugh at his joke, moving to lay completely on your back.

It's nice to stare up at the tops of the trees, watching the light poke between them. They were so unbelievably tall compared to you that sometimes it was easy to forget they even had tops. But you continue to watch, spotting Dust circling through the leaves. He hasn’t landed since being disturbed off of Harvester, and must’ve found something at least somewhat entertaining in the skies. At least more entertaining than what was down here with you.

Death has since closed his eyes, opening one for a moment to see you silently looking upward. You have one arm in the air, a finger pointed as you follow where Dust was circling with a relaxed look. Why he had nary a guess, but it seems to keep you quite well occupied. ‘Thank the Creators.’ He doesn't find himself uttering that phrase very often That not only did you actually enjoy his presence, much to his apprehension; But that you actually knew the pleasure of a peaceful silence. You don't fill the air with constant whining or talking, much like a brother of his. It's something beyond rare to him, and he uses the moment to actually rest his eyes for once.

Death has no need for such a thing, but he can’t deny that it was a rare luxury he would like to partake in every once in awhile. Strife probably would’ve called him old, was he around to do so.

With your weight off of your feet for once they finally stop crying out, sighing as your muscles slowly loosen. What you’d give for a nice, soothing massage. That word perks a small part of your brain, wandering off as your eyes blur unfocused on the treetops. They were all starting to blend together, becoming one giant mass and no longer interesting.

Dust is no longer in view either, flown off somewhere far enough away that you can't even hear the distant echo of his caws; But even without it, the forest is just so, peaceful. With the Corruption gone, not a single thing other than the natural predators stalks these woods with ill intent.

Moving to adjust your top into a more comfortable position, which had bunched up into a wrinkled mess, it was the sudden jolt of feeling from the fabric of your bra against your chest that makes your thighs jerk together.

That wasn’t exactly the type of thing you had been thinking about moments ago, but once your mind starts to wander, you find it near impossible to get back on track.

Leaning up to look around there was not a creature in sight, the forest seeming empty. But it still always feels like it's alive; Watching. But if Death is able to sleep, you can say with absolute surety there isn't a soul in the leagues of forest around both of you.

Well, at least Death looked like he was sleeping- it's hard to tell for sure. His eyes are closed as he leans against the base of the tree, head tilted ever so slightly forward. He seems almost a statue, nearly frozen with his arms crossed over his chest. Maybe he's just thinking, but either way, his attention isn't on you.

The shoddy blanket you have laid out muffles the sounds of movement as you roll on your stomach. As long as you were slow, he wouldn’t hear a thing, and you were good at being quiet; When you had to.

Fair to say, it had been a trait you were forced to learn quite quickly.

Using the arm more obscured from Death’s point of view, you slowly slip a hand between the blanket covered ground and your body. A tight fit it squeezes between your stomach and the ground, slipping past the waist of your trousers. Quickly diving past the fabric of your underwear wetness quickly covers your fingers as they gently move, slow and deliberate as you try to keep your breathing quiet. You can't help but take a wayward glance over to Death, who is still unmoving. Good; Enough that your mind focuses more on your hand as it slides between your folds, teasing at your most sensitive areas that are still begging for more and more. Which you were quite intent to fulfill, as long as fortune continues in your way.

It's been awhile since, and now that you've paid attention to that inkling in the back of your mind, it's hungry; Borderline starving.

A harsh swallow makes your throat tense as you try to stay completely quiet, moving your mouth more against your forearm to muffle the sound of your breathing. It works enough to smooth your anxiety about it, fingers pushing harsher against yourself. It felt like you were making not a peep, surely you could go a little farther... Even the rustle of the trees was drowning out now as your mind focuses in on that tightening in the pit of your stomach, even if it hindsight wouldn’t be the most satisfying. But you were desperate for that little bit of paradise, letting out the tiniest of sighs against your arm, so close yet so far to- “You are far less quiet than you think you are.”

Gasping and almost letting out a shriek Death was suddenly close to you, body leaning partly over yours. When you attempt to wiggle away he pushes his right palm down onto your right shoulder blade, holding you in place. Even with such little effort he has you completely trapped you against the ground, the movement making your shirt rise a bit to show some of your lower back. “Death! I-I though you were-” “Asleep?” Trying to find the words to speak but also the power to pull your hand from your trousers, both were failures as Death holds you firmly in place. “Do you fail to remember the time I told you I have no need of sleep?”

You’d completely forgotten, to be honest. It was an offhand comment you’d made whilst in the middle of the whipping winds aboard the Eternal Throne, saying he had ‘bed head’. Death had said in response he couldn’t possibly, because he doesn’t sleep. Or at least his body didn't require it. That realization that he had heard everything combined with Death's almost scolding tone, sends a shiver down your spine.

No matter how many times you swore you’d snark back at him this time, take the leading role, Death always seemed to know how to completely end that line of thought before it could even begin.

“I-I, sorry I can,” His body weight shifts causing you to gasp for air a tiny bit, looking back as much as you could seeing his silhouette hover over you.

“Death, you’re,” You purse your lips tight together as you try to force the words out. But you only push out a breath of hot air through your tight lips, trying to gather enough of a coherent sentence to tell him off.

It seemed Death was trying to scold you for this, but…. “You’re, not exactly making this any easier.”

He's silent, feeling your thighs press together tightly and the tightness of your breathes, and when you turn your head, he can just barely see the colors of your eyes with how blown out your pupils were. It's always nerve-wracking to look at the Reaper; To stare into bright, unreadable eyes.

Granted, this isn't the first time; Your own personal room in the Tri-Forge, the halls of a now much more friendly Eternal Throne, a cave in the Dead Plains. Each time the Reaper had bared more to you than he probably had anyone else in an uncountable number of years. But Death’s lack of change in personality towards you had left you wondering if it was permanent, or merely a temporary indulgence.

When he’d gotten back from the Well of Souls however he’d said a few choice words that felt odd on his tongue, and you finally didn’t have to read between the lines; At least not as deeply. Death has never and probably will never be the most forthcoming.

Unless he wanted to be, shifting his body weight to better support himself as bony knees on either side of you dig into the dirt underneath your blanket.

It was a movement that seemed almost unintentional, except for the fact that it very much was.

It presses his groin harder against your ass, pulling the fabric of your trousers tighter over your hidden hand. Gasping as your body moves forward ever slightly from his weight, the Reaper’s body follows. You try your best to turn around and face him, but when it didn’t quite work, you look ahead with a sheepish expression. The woods hold nothing but trees for your eyes to focus on, a barren seeming wild.

“Death! We’re-” His deadpan voice interrupts you, already knowing what you're going to say.

“You seemed quite fine with the location moments ago when it was just your hand.” Death doesn't necessarily feel embarrassment- at least not nearly as often as others might. Living as long as he has weathers one down beyond such largely meaningless things. And while he has no issue teasing you- at least what he would consider teasing or as close as he could on the matter, it's only because the possibility of any matter of life seeing you effected by it was absolutely zero. Call Death greedy, but he would sooner slice himself width-wise at the gut than let any other see you even just flushed like this. Though maybe he had a reason to be that greedy when he had originally thought he was too far gone for love- let alone including the physical kind in the definition. “Well, I- that was a little different!”

Even if the forest was well empty, beyond the occasional wildlife, the situation seems to keep your voice barely above a whisper. “Oh really, is it? I fail to find a difference.”

You hate how often he could render you silent, pursing your lips tighter in an almost pout. He can hear, and see, the harsh exhale through your nose, almost shaking under his grasp. It had just been arousal at first, but now he’s succeeded in making you embarrassingly irritated as well. “You just love dangling things in peoples faces and then taking it away, huh?” He’s silent, body barely even fidgeting above you. It almost makes you nervous, your arm starting to fall asleep from where it’s still pinned underneath your torso. Death is always thinking, and not often could you guess what it was about. “Ask nicely.”

Death replays the abashed scoff you let out multiple times, a hot flush on your face. The pins and needles you feel in your arm almost seem to vanish as you get too distracted by the overwhelming heat on your cheeks. “You want me to beg?” Death hummed, faking some sort of contemplation. “That would work as well. Though I would prefer the former.”

Damn this reaper, damn him to hell. “You’re awful.” You’d never dare mean it of course, pursing your lips and trying to hold your knees from shaking. You have no problem with pleading to the Horsemen, but hearing your voice in the open like this, catching in the wind, it almost feels like someone would hear. Even if there wasn’t another living soul for an incredible distance. You take a deep sigh, the flushed heat all over your body only getting hotter, no amount of air able to snuff it.

“Please, Death.” He will never admit it to you, will never saddle you with the emotion that he had only wanted to hear those words; To actually hear someone wanted him. Let alone desired him. Those words bring him closer to your body, a hand of long, thin fingers coming to brush the stray hairs from your face. It was a completely silent gesture, but his uncharacteristic gentleness is more than enough to get it across. His knuckle brushes against your cheek for a moment and feels the inconsolable heat rushing across your face. He is as cold as the grave, and you are the first time in an uncountable number of years he’s felt the flush of heated skin.

He lifts off you enough that you could roll just enough and pull your hand from underneath you, moving to lay it in front of your chest.

Moving his own hand away from your face, it was a jolt to suddenly feel cool skin through your shirt. It was deliberately slow, trailing down the knocks of your spine and succeeding to send multiple shivers down with it. Slipping down the back of your trousers, he uses his wrist to push them downward until they, along with your underwear, lay like a cinch around your thighs. You won’t be able to get them off without much more effort, and it wasn’t something that you- nor Death it seemed- wanted to do.

You wouldn't have had the time anyways, as cold fingers quickly pressed against your folds and cause your thighs to tighten in surprise. Never would you say you hated the deathly chill to his skin, his body, but it always sent shivers up each time he’d surprise you with his touch.

They slide between your outer lips, back and forth pooling and drawing forth more slick wetness against your groin and thighs. It was a merciless tease, groaning from the horribly empty feeling you were now overtaken by as he kept just barely avoiding what you wanted.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t been indulging yourself not minutes ago on your own, but it felt different when it was Death. Leagues different.

“You’re being impatient.”

The angered groan you let out couldn’t have done less to motivate Death; If anything, it only served as kindling for him to toy with you more. He scolded you only to then finally press ever so slightly, two fingers gently but consistently making their way inside. It was barely moments before they were deep enough that you were gritting your teeth, gasping as they curled and you tightened around them in response.

“And you’re the one being a tease.”

Death didn’t respond, having no need to, as your sentence had absolutely none of the bite you had clearly intended it to. Your voice wavers too much, affected by the feeling of cold, deft fingers being driven deep in the heat of your cunt.

Death had once made a largely passed over comment about how his skin felt like the dead- and while you couldn’t disagree, you’d never get over how intoxicating it felt against your own.

Especially in this context, his other fingers grazing over your other lips and collecting the myriad of wetness glistening against against you. It was the source of multiple egregious noises, only beaten by the sound of moans you were attempting to muffle. But Death never once falters, dragging each movement out with an infuriating level of patience. Infuriating for you at least, as you can just feel the smugness dripping off of him.

The silent kind, knowing with an absolute surety you were crumbling underneath him. He was always confident when the tables were like this, focused away from him. The times you had tried to turn those tables, he could so deftly change them right back before you had the chance to do a single thing.

You’ll still continue to try though, pushing your body against him as much as possible feeling his weight against your back. Stubbornness will win out eventually.

With the inner parts of your thighs slick as well as what seemed like a good portion of Death’s hand, you move to lay your forehead against your forearms, feeling the heat of your face against them. It was almost as hot as when you stood next to one of the forges for too long, just on the edge of beginning to sweat. The motion as well helped to cover the sound of your whines, thighs shaking as your cunt tightens around his moving fingers.

A pocket of hot air forms in the area around your face and arms, thick against your face. But you dare not leave it’s comfort, as Death’s stare would easily render an even tighter feeling in your chest.

“I would find it quite insulting, if you’ve fallen asleep.”

In about a day from now you’ll probably have a million different comebacks that would perfectly fit this exact scenario, to bite back at his snarky little comment. But at this moment, the most you can muster was a light throw of your body and spit a single insult:

“Jerk.”

You’d bet your soul right now he was smirking behind that mask, even if you can’t see it.

Fingers slipping from you they trailed upwards, over your thighs and leaving a sticky trail. You can just barely feel the back of his hand and wrist ghosting over your skin, removing whatever clothing was impeding himself. Only just enough it seemed, as you can still feel cloth against your lower legs.

It was obvious, but even as you suddenly feel him press against you, your thighs still tighten and hips jerked in shock.

It was something you’ll ever dare say aloud, but it wasn’t the first time you realized just how much larger of a person Death was compared to you- in multiple regards.

Your eyes were too big for your mouth, latching onto a Horsemen.

The same hand moving upwards, he grasps just under your ass, pulling outward and leaving yourself exposed enough that he can press against you; Ever so slowly slipping between your outer lips. Methodical, Death was what you'd assume to be the slowest he could possibly be; Pushing inward slowly, slowly, until his hips pressed against your ass.

Three, four, five, six.

Soft and deliberate Death was until he was dragging soft moans from you, your body unwound and no longer tense. It was only then he sped up, the slightest bit, your own hips attempting to reach up to meet him with what tiny amount of force you could muster. It wasn’t much, he had you caged so close to the ground it felt like you’d go through it- the forest but a backdrop to him surrounding you almost entirety.

It almost instills a sense of vertigo, surrounded by his shadow as Death’s body weight was overwhelming against your back, forcing you into the ground as he fucked you. It's all so overwhelming; Grasping at the dirt, the grass, your blanket. Your toes curl as moans turned into cut little gasps. “Breathe, girl.”

It's nigh impossible to, almost feeling like the Reaper was taking the air right from your lungs. If you raise your head any little bit you’d be able to feel his mask against the back of your head, looming just over top.

Deep down you’ve always wanted him to take it off; To see his face. Even if it was more so to kiss him, hold his face smoothly in your hands. But you know he won't- not now, and probably never. You’d never have the heart to demand it, either way. It doesn't matter that much to you.

Caged by both of his arms parallel to your shoulders, you can only keep your head upright for a moment before moving to lay your head against your forearms again. His body weight against yours was almost impossibly heavy, far more than any human. But it wasn’t uncomfortable, keeping off of you just enough. Death is always meticulous, the perfect amounts of everything. Especially with you.

But even if he tried to hide it infinitely deep within him, you knew he always held back. You're the most fragile thing he's been around in an uncountable number of years. “Death…” You say his name wrapped in a breathless whisper it trails off as if a question, pricking his ears. “Harder.”

Death always is as gentle as he could possibly be, as your human frame would often bruise or cut from things that wouldn’t be even noticeable on him. But you beckoning him to teeter you closer to edge of pain however, is tempting. His body becomes faster, rougher, heavier, hips pressing against your with an aggressive abandon. It would’ve kept sliding you forward along the blanketed ground, had Death not yanked your left arm from under your head- pressing his hand around your forearm to hold you steady underneath him.

Fingers stretching out struggling to find anything to grip, to keep yourself stable, the only thing was still just the ground underneath. But Death doesn’t buckle even a little; Almost stoic. It was frustrating how unaffected he always seems, compared to you being almost always a near total mess. Managing to lift your head up enough to turn it and look back at him, you can see his hair falling over his shoulders and around his mask, shadowing it.

But it was the expression behind the mask that surprised you; You hear him let out the smallest shaking breath of air while turning his head away from your gaze. Death is a very quiet, indomitable being. To hear him let out even the smallest reaction, showing the slightest chip in his armor- meant he was crushed under such emotion that even he couldn’t hold it back.

But it had faded just as quickly as you’d heard it, going back to silence other than the most quiet noises of movement from him. It had been a delight, and you’d love nothing more than to hear it again.

It could easily be said you were making enough noise for the both of you, your stomach in wonderful knots, about to snap. You were so, so close, trying to arch your back to push your hips against him more.

You’ve never felt anything to this degree before Death- an almost overwhelming about of pleasure that could send your mind reeling. Seeing stars wasn’t that far off an expression, gasping loud enough that you instantly try to cover your mouth as Death laid almost completely down on you; Hips grinding enough you swore they’d leave marks. But he is just as silent as ever, listening to the sounds of you coming undone beneath him.

He struggles to think of anything that could compare- to hear someone cry out for your everything pleading for more. It makes his chest tighten with a feeling he can’t quite place.

Your thighs press tight against each other as you cum, almost too tight for Death to even move. He slows to a crawl, you tight like a vice around him as you feel a delightful shiver run through your body. It almost overwhelms your entirety, hand clapped over your mouth to muffle what would’ve probably been quite a loud gasp, if you hadn’t stopped it. Had you been anywhere else, Death would’ve peeled your hand away to hear it.

Still grinding against you with an amount you’d say was almost too much, you had to peel your hand away from your mouth to support yourself. You try to wrap around and reach for him; Desperate for touch. But you can barely grab anything other than his scarf, feeling his cool skin just barely against your fingertips. Your hand falls back to the ground with a thump, grasping at almost nothing.

His hand on your bicep tightens, the skin underneath surely bruising, as he finally slows to a halt against your own still tense body. A breath of air pushed through his teeth as a soft hiss, being almost completely muffled by the mask to where even you didn’t hear it. You might’ve thought he’d be short of breath as well, as you had been after you came, but how could one be short of something they didn’t even technically need? Death always had an odd relationship with natural functions like breathing.

It also seems now he realized how tight of a grip he had on your arm in his distraction, fingers loosening around the soft skin. But red marks still remained, and would continue to do so.

It wasn’t like you minded, in all honesty.

Breath finally leveling out you still lay limp, only moving slightly to adjust into a more comfortable position as Death pulls away. You can feel movement, presumably him adjusting his trousers and gaining what minute fraction of decorum he’d lost. When finished, you've barely begun to try and tug at your own clothing to right it.

It takes you a few seconds to do so, before managing to wrangle back full control of your arms which had both at one point been asleep due to the unnatural positions, now tugging down your shirt to fix it. “Ahh, there you are. I thought you dead.”

Pulling your bottoms upward, you had loosened your belt to help lessen the pain as they brushed against areas that would surely soon, if not already, become sore. A nice warm shower to clean up and relax would surely be nice, but a bit of out reach at the moment. “So now of all times is when you finally decide to crack a joke?”

Death doesn’t hesitate to respond, voice sounding absolutely coated in mirth. The Reaper moves to sit in the same position he had before everything, only this time actually joining you on the blanket he’d originally found pointless. He still did, but humans and their constant pursuit of comforts was in a weird way also amusing; At least when he was watching you. “Oh, so now you disapprove? I thought you were the one who wished I would ‘lighten up’. ”

You attempt to roll over and sit on your bottom to join him, but the sudden ache makes it a slower, gradual transition to a sitting position. If you had intended on this whole break being to lessen the amount of general discomfort you were feeling, it seems to have been a complete failure. A lovely, incredible failure. “There’s a time and a place, Death.” “I could’ve said the same to you not long ago.”

You’d be more tempted to come up with some sort of snappy comeback, If his two note chuckle at your embarrassment hadn’t caught you so off guard.

You just smack his chest instead, before looking away and trying to avoid any sort of eye contact. Moments later and his teasing comment well past gone, you sigh and lean against his arm in an over-dramatic motion adding to what you were about to say. Your lips just barely graze against the skin of his shoulder in an almost-kiss; something you’ve gotten used to doing.

“I think I need a little bit more rest though.” Death turns and even with the mask, you can tell he had a decently mirthful expression; By his standards. He’d spotted the way you’d looked up at the sky and noticed a familiar bird, fingers flexing as if you waited to lovingly squeeze the carrion eating pest. “Are you actually going to rest, or use the time to coddle Dust?” Almost as if he heard his name called the crow descends through the treetops, and plops into the lap of his preferred affection giver. Which is you, of course. Death watches the bird puff up, a nearly shapeless mass of feathers as you scratch to rid him of any dirt and douse him with, at least what you thought was, deserved affections. “The blasted bird already never listens, the last thing he needs is your wily affections making him any lazier.”

Death then suddenly notices the way you’ve been leaning against his arm, laughing and smiling, fingers toying with a torn bit of his armor. Your face was still slightly flush, hair and clothing a bit of a mess, and he couldn’t help the hand that darted out to fix a stray piece of hair without you noticing. It all feels, nice. Like he isn’t Creation’s most reviled being. “Summon Despair, I’ll win him over too. Horsemen without a horse.”

Death wouldn’t comment on how you more than likely already had, with how much you scratched behind his ears and call him ‘A good boy, The smartest boy,' and 'The best undead horse in the universe.' To think, Death could remember a time you’d been utterly scared out of your wits by the horse, and him by extension.

How you had changed tune about them so drastically in such a short amount of time continues to baffle him. He wonders sometimes if other humans would be as similarly forgiving.

“The realms surely tremble with excitement from the mere thought.”

The scowl that is being sent at Dust from his owner would’ve surely melted any other bird; But Dust is of a different breed, and simply sits content and continues preening.

“Quite the shame they don’t know then.” If Death had tried to contain his feeling of complete exasperation with you and all your antics, it didn’t work, letting out a sigh.

“Take it to the grave then, will you?”

You can only chuckle, extremely pleased at his exasperation. Dust joins in only in timing with a soft warble, overjoyed that you were scratching the puff of feathers behind one of his ears. How lucky Death thought he was, to have not one aggravating travel companion, but two.

Not that he would ever complain out loud. If anything, half of the reason he was out here was because you’d found the last Death Tomb so fascinating, even if for him it was just another monotonous journey.

You had been wide eyed looking at vases and murals, spinning around to see every little thing. So easily entertained humans were, as Death had watched you eye a variable mound of golden coins. It was part of the reason he insisted you accompany him, beyond an admittedly selfish desire to have you alone; And away from hovering Makers.

When was the last time something had caught Death’s interest so tightly? Besides you, he can’t quite remember.

“I could take it to the grave with me…” Death can feel the ‘but’ hanging just off the end of your sentence, waiting for whatever chaos you were going to concoct in the same way he prepared for the brunt of battle.

“Or you could introduce me to Strife, and I could joke about it with him.” You’ve said many a stupid thing before, both to and in earshot of Death, but none had gotten such a lightning quick response of:

“Absolutely not.”

#darksiders x reader #darksiders death x reader #Death/Reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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gabessquishytum · 5 months

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Since his imprisonment over a century ago, cinema has changed. Dream knew the camera would always be the next big thing in storytelling and that the movie would become a new medium that the next generation of storytellers would manipulate and mold.

So Hob proposes movie night. They go in order of the decades, from just before he was captured up to the present day. So far Dream has really liked the 1926 rendition of Phantom of the Opera, Gertie the Dinosaur, and the 1939 rendition of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. The film for this movie night is Gene Kelly's Singing in the Rain and then afterwards Wizard of Oz, but he's not alone.

Del is still feeling a bit rejected by her family and decides to pop around her siblings to see what they've got going on. Destiny let her get lost in his maze, Death took her into the deep ocean to say good bye to an ancient whale, Desire took her to a club where she made a guy hitting on her dance forever, and Despair just sat around in her own self misery and Del nearly succumbed to boredom. Dream is the only one left to humor her and brings her with him for movie night.

It goes off about as well as to be expected. She loved the film, particularly enjoying Cosmo's Make Them Laugh and Dorothy's Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Dream also liked the film, though it wasn't one of his favorites. Just something bright and colorful to pass the time. But this gives her an idea. Things always seem to work out when people are singing and she just wishes that everything with her family would resolve in something as simple as a song.

So she makes everyone sing. The first victim is Hob who wakes the next day singing to his appliances and every sentence afterward. Which is weird for him, but he can't stop. He can't get through a lesson without making it into a song. Which is becoming disturbing by lecture number three. He goes home and contacts Dream.

Who is having his own issues. The Dreaming and its denizens can't stop singing either. Matthew has turned into a songbird and the music is starting to chafe his nerves. He goes into the Waking and finds all of humanity has joined in a discordant musical number. Lovers sing about the virtues of romance, street punks are dancing in lines and singing about how they're going to cause trouble. A woman screams herself bloody about her lost dreams and passions. He makes his way to Hob's apartment, where he comes down with a song himself.

It's a heart wrenching screed about the loss of time and opportunity. About how he just wants to love and be loved in return. Red-faced, he disappears.

Hob heard every word he said and opened the door too late, leaving them both to scream themselves hoarse about their feelings. A song that perpetuates until Hob passes out from exhaustion and is ferried onto the Dreaming. There they have a heart to heart in the form of a ballad which culminates in a big, sweeping movie musical style kiss.

After the first few deaths from exhaustion, Death comes to her sister. Even she is not immune and through a large musical number, shows Delirium the extent of the damage she's caused. Del doesn't feel bad, until she hears her brothers and sisters sing. The whole universe is in a chorus of pain and misery as they struggle under the weight of her gift. So she removes the curse and sulks. Her sigil dims and she retreats deep into her realm.

Until she hears her siblings collectively calling for her. She appears in Hob's living room. The popcorn is popped, the room is darkened and she can see everyone sitting on the couch or the floor except for one place on the couch, between Death and Hob. Dream is comfortably sitting next to his new human lover, his head on his shoulder. They invite her in as the movie is just about to start. They're watching Meet Me in St. Louis.

- 🤜 anon

MY HEART. Poor darling Del, she certainly meant for it to be a good thing. But nobody really wants to be singing for more than a short amount of time. I wonder what Dream and Hob sound like while singing? If Dream’s singing is as unique as his laughter, I'm sure it was truly... something. But hey, Del unwittingly performed a minor miracle by bringing the idiots together at last. Who knew that all it would take was a romantic ballad after 600 years of pining?

Del enjoys Meet Me in St Louis a lot! She likes the slightly disfunctional family, particularly the little sister who gets into all kinds of shenanigans. The best part is being with her family, though, especially because they're all on their best behaviour! They even have a good ole sing along to the Trolley Song. Delirium revels in the slight chaos and finally feels properly appreciated by her entire family <3

#🤜 anon #the sandman #dreamling #delerium of the endless

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fizzlewizard404 · 1 year

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Ok, the more I've thought about it, the more I think I understand why the conclusion they gave the Collector was so off to me. And I think it was mainly two things; the execution of it, and the vagueness of it. Let me explain.

Disclaimer! I am not claiming to know everything about writing or how to do it, so take this with a grain of salt ^^

(Major spoilers below!!! You've been warned!)

First of all, I feel the need to clarify that, a lot of the vagueness here does probably have a little bit to do with how much time they had left for this. (The shows cancelation and all that.) The crew had about, like, 10 minutes to properly wrap everything up? So they needed to make it fast enough to fit as much in. With a good majority of the characters and the conclusion of their arcs, there just isn't that much to go that in depth into.

Luz? She can properly travel between both realms now, her insecurities and guilt complex have been dealt with, and she can properly be herself around the people she loves.

Eda? While, she does still have to deal with the curse, shes properly accepted it as a part of her, and feels free to be around the people she loves.

King? While he's definitely still got a lot to learn about himself, he's more free to do so than ever and has the support and help to do so from the people around him, and those he loves. I can go on with basically everyone else, but I think you get the idea by now.

The more I think about it, in theory/concept, I think having the Collector go back to space can work. But you have to establish three main things in order for it to do so.

1) Give us enough of an idea for what exactly he will be doing in space to grow as a person. Presumably, to me anyway, I feel like they're most likely on some kind of quest to undo as much of their siblings's doings. Until, potentially facing them directly again.

2) Make sure to note that the Collector is fully aware of the fact that he has a genuine and loving support group/found family that he can return whenever he feels the need to see them again. And especially make it clear that they do just that when they can. Not too often, but still somewhat regularly.

3) Inforce the fact that the aforementioned support system/found family (Luz, King and Eda, though this can include others later on) really do care about the Collector's well being and that they are willing to be there for him when they can be.

Alrighty!! Now that I have those things out of the way, let me explain how the show messed up properly showcasing them, despite how expertly everything before this was handled.

When the epilouge's beginning starts after Luz has finally put an end to Belos's evil-doing, we get to see everyone slowly start getting use to the new circumstances of their home. None of it can ever be the same way it was before, but that's definetely for the better in most cases. After all, everyone's gone through a lot as of recently. Especially this episode.

Including, (and in my opinion, most of all) the Collector. For the last ??? amount of years, everything in their life has been... stagnent, inauthentic and overall not great. Even during what we saw during For The Future. Despite it's happy, cheery and colorful surface, it was only really a facade to mask the lack of actual care and support that Collector has in his life.

The stories and adventures he plays out with King are like his own interpretation from a game of broken telephone. They can only really immitate the genuine experience and connection formed when the real thing happened. All the denizens of the Boiling Isles are reduced to a sparkly, cute puppeted version of themselves. Lacking any real emotion in order to go along with the tone of the story.

Realistically speaking, King is the only somewhat genuine thing in the Collector's world. He's the only person that they can trust and talk to. Sure, he techically has his distant, idealized connection with Eda, but she's (at least to the Collector's knowledge) always stuck as the owl beast. So that's kind of impractical for him.

In all of these stories and games of pretend, the Collector takes what would otherwise be Luz's role in King's life. They're jealous of the relation she's had with King for so long. Collector knows that while he's close to King, they can't be as close to him as Luz.

Going by this information, we can come to the conclusion that the Collector desperately wants to have real friends, and people who won't use him or lie to him. Much like how his (presumably) distant, but still likely very ill-intentioned siblings, the Archivists did. First so they wouldn't have to deal with him, and later to take all his friends away. This pattern continued with Belos, which also lead to betrayal and abandonment for the Collector.

For his entire life, Collector has struggled grasping empathy and the overall concept of death. He said it himself, clear as day. "Toys break all the time! You just fix em'!". There is a fundamental misunderstanding for him in this regard that they are unaware of.

As for the struggle with empathy, his status as an all-powerful immortal tends to make him kinda unapproachable for most non-immortals. So in order to actually play with people who he wants to play with, but are afraid of him, he forces them to do so against their wills.

Near the beginning of Watching and Dreaming, Luz and Co. are finally able to try explaining what it means to understand other people to the Collector. And after a bit, it seems like they're finally starting to get it. Kindness and forgiveness! Who guessed it was that easy all this time?? Soon after this, the Collector tries applying his newly found morals towards the first person they can. Unfortunately for everyone, that person is the furthest thing from somebody who can be reasoned with.

The Collector starts to feel as if they can finally fix things, only to nearly get blasted by Belos, mere seconds later. Thankfully, Luz swept in to safe him and tries explaining to him that he did do the right thing, just... not with the right person. Soon enough, we find out that Luz did get grazed by Belos's power. She immediately starts disintegrating and disappearing before everyone, but more specifically, before the Collector's eyes. Moments after this, Collector is... scared, but mainly confused. King and Eda are completely speechless, only being able to stare ahead of them. The Collector tries to bring Luz back, only for nothing to happen. Things go from bad to worse when King and Eda lose themselves entirely and start fighting off Belos.

In this moment, right before Luz comes back with her titan powers, the Collector is about the lowest they've been in forever. Having just realized that they can't just fix everything with the snap of their finger, and completely powerless to do ANYTHING. King and Eda are there, but they're not there. Luz is gone. There's nowhere they could go from here. It's hopeless.

A bit after Luz comes back, the Collector decides to do something with their currently fading power and help everyone in the Archives (yknow, from falling hundreds of feet in the air towards their certain deaths).

After Belos is defeated and all the goop goes away, the Collector gently falls onto the floor of the Archives, exhausted. The moment they see Amity (someone he doesn't know well, but knows is close to Luz) walk towards him, he covers his head, expecting for her to start scolding or even attacking him. But she doesn't. She reaches her hand out to him as a friendly sign of peace, and understanding. His face literally lights up when this happens.

After all of this, while I think that Collector really can't be in the Isles all the time, considering how many people probably won't be that ok with having him around all the time after what he did, it's still obvious to me that they do finally have people who they can lean on and properly be better around. Luz, King and Eda.

...Too bad that their send-off scene doesn't make any that clear!! Like, whatsoever!!

While, yeah you can say that the main trio are DEFINITELY also exhausted after everything, I don't think that would make them all of a sudden be totally fine with the Collector leaving into space on his own.

Firstly, unless we can assume that what I said earlier about him undoing the Archivists's damage where he can, it seems like he's just, isolating himself so he can't hurt anyone until he feels worthy enough to ~maybe~ go back to the Boiling Isles eventually? You know. Like the same thing Luz wanted to do in Thanks To Them because she felt like a burden onto everyone around her? But there atleast, the show made it clear that everyone seeing Luz confess to this, had a problem with it.

During this scene. We don't see anyone other than King go after the Collector. Sure Luz is looking, but that still doesn't count for much. The phrasing of King's last onscreen words to the Collector are "I hope I see you again" before he gives them François. The way this was worded makes the idea of King giving François to the Collector seem more like an almost permanent goodbye gift. Like, the two of them won't be seeing each other again, or at least for a LOONG WHILE.

I think that adding on a "soon" at the end of "I hope I see you again" could've made it a lot better, and make it more obvious that François being given to the Collector is to remind them of their newly found family and that they will be there for him, wherever he is in the universe. Which I feel is way more fitting coming from King. Like his own version of "I don't know what the future holds, but it would be so cool if you were in it" to the Collector.

One thing that I feel like made everything make way less sense is the "No one argued" line from Luz. It makes literally no sense to me considering everything they've been through together? Like?? You'd think Luz and Eda would atleast ask him if he'll be okay going away on his own?? Considering that Luz was able to recognize where the Collector was at the beginning of the episode, it feels extremely out of character for her not to recognize what they're going through here, especially when taking into account that she went through something VERY similar as of very recently herself??

As for Eda, she just kind of, lays back away from the whole situation to begin with? For some reason? Which also feels weird to me since she was also open to being there for him earlier in the episode? She's grown enough at this point to know what to say to kids when she can tell they're not doing well at the moment. Not to mention how she would also probably be able to recognize the Collector trying to isolate themselves as something she's also gone through to protect the people she cares about!! She's fully aware it doesn't work out well when you have absolutely no one by your side! So I feel like having her atleast also reminding the Collector that they're all here for him would've meant a lot more.

As for why all of this came off as really jarring to a lot of people (i'm mainly using myself as an example here btw), The Owl House has always been a show that's overall narrative message has been about found family for different people. The main example I'll be using here is for neurodivergent people. Whether or not it's something like ADHD, autism, or any kind of personality disorder.

The Collector, to me anyway, is extremely ND coded in a few ways. So, in a way, to me personally, having it seem like nobody out of the main trio was actually concerned with the Collector's well being in this scene, felt... jarring? It gave off the message of "neurodivergent people deserve love and belonging, unless they have unstable emotional regulation and struggle grasping empathy, in which case it's okay if they isolate themselves from the people they love because those loved ones don't care about them enough to where they would have a problem with the person isolating themselves", which would be ridiculously insensetive and insulting from what's otherwise such an open-minded and emotionally mature show. I read it this way when I first watched the episode when it aired, and I feel safe to say that it was not what I needed to hear at the moment. I feel like I'm doing better now, and I understand why it hit me the way it did considering everything I mentioned earlier.

I'm not calling anybody who worked on TOH ableist for any of this, and I want to make that clear. This was obviously unintentional on their end and I'm glad that I can understand that now. This show has been here for me and so many other people through so much and other than this on gripe I have with the Collector's send-off scene, the finale was everything I could've asked for and more. That's all.

#toh #the owl house #rambling #toh spoilers #analysis #the collector #also. i could eventually change my mind about this too.. soo. idk #essay

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alstroemeriatea · 3 months

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malus pumila

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a hazbin hotel one shot of the morning Charlie was born, and the utter wonder of a King and Queen.

read below on tumblr or here on ao3 for more author's notes and tags!

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Glossary (with Italian influence from Renaissance canon about Hell and other literature)

Principe - Prince

Principessa - Princess

Elohim & Adonai - Hebrew for God

Mia Regina - My Queen

Tesorina - Little treasure

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The scream of life anew rang out through Hell, it’s citizens fast asleep. There were sounds of terror, utter violence, and chaos every day in the realm, but this call was different. It was one of the beginning, a new morning still hanging on to the last dregs of nightfall as the first beckons of the day called for the denizens of the newly established kingdom to rise.

But there were a select number of demons and hellborns, even a few sinners, darting about the castle, running rampant for her.

That was the consensus anyway - the entire nine months had gone by with such little chatter of the infant’s sex. Was it a boy, a principe, or a girl, their new principessa?

The couple had strategically kept hushed voices around such topics. The fear of a holy curse from the Almighty for Lilith’s autonomy and grand escape had not so easily been dismissed. Truly, the early residents of Hell were among the first of the damned; the threats of Elohim were to be feared.

But all had not been lost in terror, because the joyous hour had been thrust upon them; each labor contracting like a knife to Lilith’s torso as her hand tightly wrapped along the silks of the bed she was lying on.

Lucifer watched, Lilith's fingers gripping his as though he was entrapped in a vice, sensing her heartbeat. Such divine abilities had not been lost to him after the Great Fall and her soul was burning, singing with urgency. Fear, delight, pain - most noticeable unto his dismay - but the strongest projected utter joy.

She cursed in the tongue of man, the pronunciation so distinct, and the midwife called for further assistance, for one more unbearable motion:

and the cry rang out, the newborn as porcelain as her father’s skin, while the assistants declared to the room that a principessa had been born.

Lilith's grip never softened, but tears filled her eyes, and the child wiped clean, was placed onto her chest, her free hand immediately cradling the head and neck of their daughter.

“Oh Lilith…” Lucifer whispered after a second of awe, as his wife’s heavy breaths slowed ever slightly. He moved in closer to her, now lying beside her on the mattress, and was entranced by the feeling that was entrapping him.

No, it was so freeing.

“She's beautiful,” he murmured, wanting to simply brush away the damp curls plastered to her forehead, the downy hair looking so soft. But as his fingers moved slightly, he immediately retracted, a sense of wonder overtaking him.

She was alive, an act of creation. Oh, how could we understand what it was like to be Adonai when creation simply existed, the act of making, becoming, and loving within us all?

Lilith trembled slightly, tracing the cheeks of their daughter as tears fell down her face. “I love her,” she whispered, her intention so bright. “She's… she's here, my love, with us.”

“She looks like you,” Lucifer said, leaning into his wife as the midwives left the room for a moment of their privacy and to clean their necessities before returning. “Her nose. And see,” he pointed gently, “my god, she has your eyes.”

She looked at him, curious for a moment, her face still slightly perspired from the endeavor. “My eyes? They're clearly yours.”

“My color,” he amended, moving in to wipe the tears away from his Queen’s face, “but your shape. Your eyelashes too, they're barely open.”

“She can hardly see us,” she replied, turning back to him. “You like my eyes?”

“I love your eyes,” he breathed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing his lips into hers, gently, the salt of the earth on her skin and their admiration vivid.

She pulled away, resting her head along his collarbone, looking back down at their child. Her small hands reached up towards her parents and squeezed in a reflex around nothing. “What shall we call her?”

Lucifer was taken aback, confused at her question. “You want me to decide?”

“You're an angel, the divine, Luce. To have come from Heaven is a gift, and there are some things even I don't understand about true makerism.”

“We are her creators, mia Regina,” Lucifer said, biting down on the inside of his cheek in a moment of clarity. “Equals, remember? The Garden had nothing and you prevailed regardless.”

“She'll never have to see that place,” Lilith whispered, a sudden note of bitterness in her voice. “She'll understand autonomy and love here with us.”

They were silent for a while, both staring at the baby that lay in her arms. Such a tiny thing, a helpless and sudden arrival into their lives never to be expected.

“Charlotte,” Lilith said after a moment. “I like Charlotte.”

The bright eyes of their girl met with Lucifer’s, and the surety of his life was benign, truly necessary, and wonderful. “Principessa Charlotte, heir to the throne of Hell, tesorina.”

“Our daughter,” Lilith said softly, tracing the outline of her cheek with the side of her hand. The final ordainment felt personal like it was somehow more important than any royal title.

“Our daughter,” Lucifer agreed, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

His wife looked at him with a sense of amazement, like she'd found something that had never been known before. “Would you like to hold her?” She asked, lifting her - Charlotte - up to him slightly.

He opened his mouth to reply, but the words had died on his tongue. “I don't… I want to-”

“It's okay,” she cut him off, her voice soft. “It's gonna be alright, you know this.”

Lucifer hesitated, then moved his arms under Lilith’s as she passed the child into his arms. “She’s there,” she whispered, “all she's ever known is love.”

He felt tears slowly falling upon his waterline and down his cheeks, over the rosy circles - Charlotte had them as well - and she squirmed for a moment before settling, his hand under her head and the other along her back.

“Hey Charlie,” he murmured, the name still so new, this principessa new, and it was all so overwhelmingly wonderful. “Welcome home to the Underworld.”

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thanks for reading! ♡

#hazbin hotel #hellaverse #charlie morningstar #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lilith morningstar #lucifer x lilith #lucifer & charlie #more tags on ao3 #way more effort was put into this one shot than necessary

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kozachenko · 23 days

Text

So I've been thinking about Touhou 19's title recently and I've thought of two reasons as to why it's called "Unfinished Dream of All Living Ghosts." Option 1 is the more obvious one, and option 2 is my favourite one, as it connects to Zanmu (yaaaaaay more Zanmu-posting (kinda) because she's awesome).

For context, Touhou 17 kinda left off on a note of, "The Beast spirits are going to be back again, even though their problem with Keiki has been solved." Once the beast spirits learned about Gensokyo, it's very likely that they saw an opportunity to claim it as quickly as possible to gain more power and influence. So since they kinda couldn't accomplish that by the end of Touhou 17, it would probably explain the "unfinished dream" part pretty well. As for the "all living ghost" part, the actual phrase is a bit of an oxymoron, but it could have something to do with the way of life in the Animal Realm. Even though they're technically dead, they're way of life (or way of death if you wanna be nitpicky) is all about "survival of the fittest" and "strong eating the weak." IDK how much sense that makes, but it's the best reason I could come up with.

The second interpretation though, makes the whole "all living ghost" part make more sense. So Zanmu's ability is basically just making someone's motivation and desires go away, and so looking at the title with that in mind, a lot of things start to make more sense. First of all, the "unfinished dream" part becomes a literal term for all the dreams and desires the characters Zanmu manipulated had that are now forever left "unfinished" because they lost the motivation to want to achieve them. As for the "all living ghost" part, this then goes from a confusing oxymoron, to a metaphor for the people who lost all their motivations and desires. They become husks of themselves, hell, we even see in Zanmu's interaction with Yachie in her scenario that Yachie lost a lot of the energy she had before meeting her. So the whole title of, "Unfinished Dream of All Living Ghost" can become an allegory for the entire game's plot.

On a side note relating to Zanmu (that I wanna put here just so I don't have to make another post later) in a previous reblog I mentioned how because of Zanmu's power she can get away with basically anything. This "ability" of hers probably isn't supernatural, and most likely just describes how she uses words to manipulate people. Maybe the whole, "ability to manipulate nothingness" thing came from other denizens of Hell, much like how people in history would often attribute a person's achievements to them being connected to the gods, or having supernatural abilities.

So yeah, that's just a little thing I have been thinking about for a while. Touhou titles are really cool, because they sound like a bunch of random fancy words mashed together at first glance, but when you really think about it, it starts to make sense and connects a lot with the games themes and story, which is really what a good title should do.

#touhou project #zanmu nippaku #touhou 19 #unfinished dream of all living ghost #touhou udoalg

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rockymountainqueen2 · 28 days

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Back to the Swamp rundown!

So...

Disney Channel's YouTube account just released a new TOH chibi tiny tale.

And it's a crossover with Amphibia!

Here's my summarization of the events.

It begins with Luz meddling with the good 'ol portal door.

I'm not sure what she's expecting to accomplish, but Eda and King evidently found it interesting enough to watch. Eda even brought popcorn!

But whatever Luz did, it worked!

I have no idea when this is supposed to be occurring within the series timeline by the way. Luz is wearing season one outfit, has access to the portal door, which is also not destroyed.

So, season one, right?

But Eda has her post "Let the pain be shared" silver eye... And her season two dress for that matter!

Ah well, onwards to adventure! Eda is all for it!

King is a bit more... concerned, but comes along too.

Doesn't stop him from being mystified about the wildlife, though.

I guess Luz was trying to get back to The Human Realm?

Because she seems utterly shocked by the sudden realization that man-sized insects means that she can't possibly be on earth, lol.

But luckily for the denizens of the owl house, they've landed in Amphibia! By Wartwood! Right in front of the Plantar family home!

While Anne's friends Marcy and Sasha were visiting no less! What luck!

Anne and Luz formally reunite and introduce their respective families/friends to one another. It's very cute.

Sasha and Eda evidently decided that they just had to have an arm wrestling competition.

Sasha uses the powers gifted to her by the Calamity Box in order to win, lol.

But Eda gets the last laugh!

Then Marcy and King play a board game together.

Annnnnd she also uses her Calamity Box powers to win.

Girls, you do realize that's considered cheating, right?

Hooty also makes an appearance.

I guess he was wondering where everybody went?

Polly proceeds to use him as a jump-rope, lol.

I'm surprised that Hooty isn't more into this, but maybe he was genuinely worried about the people who live inside of him and didn't appreciate being used a kid's plaything after braving the unknown in his best effort to find them. Lol.

Meanwhile, Luz is showing off her sick glyph skills!

...Which I just realized, probably shouldn't work in Amphibia.

Ah well, we wouldn't have gotten this nice moment where she and Anne show off their magical powers to each other otherwise!

After all is said and done, our heroes settle down to have a meal.

I'm reasonably certain that they're eating bugs. Yum, protein.

Hop Pop and Eda are doubtlessly exchanging tips on parenting orphans and their other-dimensional friends, lol.

Throughout this whole adventure, the portal door has been... shrinking?

Because... the writers needed a reason for Luz and Co to have go back to The Demon Realm suddenly?

XD That's my best guess, as I don't recall there ever having been a time limit when it came to using the original portal door. It was kinda OP like that.

Anywho, Luz and Co need to leave immediately. Anne and Luz are quite sad to see one another go.

King really wants to make sure to say goodbye to everybody properly!

To the point he was a little too preoccupied to notice the portal door closing on him.

Also: Hop Pop faints because he thinks he just saw a little kid get decapitated, lol.

Meanwhile, back in the owl house, Luz is sad that she had to say goodbye to Anne. Eda comforts her, it's a sweet sight.

What isn't such a sweet sight is what King looks like minus his skull.

Although King himself is rather nonplussed about the whole thing.

Like mother, like son. Lol.

Luz is completely and totally horrified by the sight of King...

And that's the note that we end on!

Overall, cute little short.

And as a bonus...

XD This is officially canon now.

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deramin2 · 4 months

Text

Critical Role is posing a big question about free will in fantasy creatures. Even in Exandria's deliberately less essentialist setting vs. D&D's traditional settings, the Feywild is a fairy tale land and it's denizens are more bound by their natures.

So how much free will and agency does Morrigan have? She claimed Fearn in one of her dark bargains. She kept Fearne safe but imprisoned in her realm and separated from her parents. Fearne is upset at her parents for staying away and not raising her, but Morrigan did that.

However, Morrigan didn't directly treat Fearne cruelly in any other way. She genuinely loved & doted on Fearne. Fearne had a wonderful childhood she cherishes every moment of. It's only looking in from the outside that we have to question how fucked up that caregiver situation is.

Fearne and her parents are victims of Morrigan's nature. But they also love her and forgive her. Both generations of Calloways fled back to Morrigan when they needed safety, protection, and a place they loved that is also part of that nature. They love her. She loves them. They're family and they look out for each other.

Fearne came to Morrigan for serious emotional crisis help in the time it most mattered and Morrigan genuinely helped them. In a terrifying, dramatic, entertaining for her (and us) way, but she did help. Morrigan is a Tragedy Enjoyer™ superfan, only for real life and she can donate to the stream to get the outcome she wants. She just loves watching people make fools out of themselves and suffer awkwardly. Which Bell's Hells did for her very willingly.

So is it Morrigan the Fate Stitchers compelled nature to make everyone she makes deals with suffer? Or is that just really enjoyable for her but if it's entertaining and enjoyable to help people she absolutely can and will do that. Does she always take when she gives? I think the answer is way more compelling if she has free will and we're seeing some of the few exceptions.

So now Chetney has made a deal to be the most famous toymaker ever. All he has to do is bring her a piece of the god-eater. Chetney did not discuss what happens if he fails. He also didn't necessarily need to be famous for his toys. If Bell's Hells succeed and Chetney upholds the bargain, Morrigan might be satisfied and make him famous for heroism. Which might be infamy more than adoration and be a curse all on its own. If he fails maybe she deliberately makes sure he's never remarkable and easily forgotten (Chetney's worst fear). I'm less afraid of her getting him killed because we've seen she likes to keep her victims alive. She makes them living topiaries in her garden. Or she sets them up for constant failure and then watches them flounder as her shows. But I she could still change how he's known if he incidentally dies. (Maybe differently depending on his Bell's Hells fulfills his bargain for him.)

Same with Orym. If Morrigan helps them (he still has to call on her like Percy's pact), Orym serves her. He might become ward like Fearne was with guard duties. He lives in her domain or where she sends him, and he lives in this freaky place with his best friend. Which isn't much different than what he did in and for Zephrah. Except his home is full of so many ghosts it's hard to be there anymore, even though he loves it and the people there. He's been on the road for years unable to settle down in his grief. His "price" for her is that she gives him a place where he has to settle down. Where he's loved and not alone, even if it's not the same. Like Fearne, the reading where this is a tragic sacrifice for Orym is from the outside in. From inside the restrictions come with a lot of benefits. Orym's Fearne's best friend. Morrigan doesn't have to take anything he isn't relieved to give up. Or so he thinks. Maybe his tragedy is that he'd start losing touch with Zephrah over time, like Fearne lost to her parents. What if that's what he thinks he wants so he can be someone new that isn't stuck in the past? Disappearing from his loved one's lives the way Will and Derrig did. But alive and maybe thriving with what feels like a new beginning and a different but happy ending as Fearne's friend.

Travis and Liam are also making a bargain with Matt: Matt sets up dramatic consequences, good or bad, and Travis will get to act out this super interesting story. Chetney's story is about a guy who wants fame so much he makes a huge gamble on his abilities for it. Could be the next Shakespearian tragedy where a hubristic guy makes terrible decisions chasing huge bets into the ground and destroying his own life and many others in the process. Could be the next Lord of the Crossroads.

Liam gets to ask both Matt and the audience if this is a tragedy of the moral chaos of the Feywild. What's a tragedy from the outside might not be one on the inside. Fate and Fate Stitchers are fickle that way. Nana Morri could show nothing but love and affection for Orym and it gets told as a terrifying fairy tale warning against Morri. That's a story that often doesn't get told, but there's so much inherent angst to it. (Which let’s be real Liam is also a Tragedy Enjoyer™ like Morri.

But either way Travis and Liam get to explore what that looks like and how it affects his OC. This is what roleplaying thrives off of. That's what makes it fun. Players, GMs, and dice all being unpredictable in constrained ways that drive the narrative forward, not always to good ends but interesting ends is what makes TTRPGs a compelling medium. The cast have repeatedly said they always enjoy taking the risk and playing out the consequences way more than the things they held back on. They said at the beginning of this campaign all bets are off. Matt's set some high stakes and big red buttons in front of them (even when he warned about the consequences up front).

This is emotional Roller Coaster Tycoon and it's unclear if the players are creating an effective roller coaster that scores high points, or one deliberately designed to crash in new and exciting ways just to see what happens. That breaks so many rules of narratives made for an audience but is totally normal in home-play if all the group consents to it. (Definitely something you need buy-in for from everyone before you play because if someone is expecting epitomized heroic play and gets that they're not going to have a good time.) Perhaps that's also why some audience members aren't vibing with this as much as previous heroic campaigns whereas I who greatly enjoy media like The Lighthouse, Uncut Gems, Torch Song Trilogy, and Dead Esther am having a grand old time. (Just a taste difference.)

Am I scared the characters aren't going to get a happy ending, yeah sort of. This could easily turn into EXU Calamity. But I love the territory they're exploring, the questions about human (and hag) nature they're exploring, and the importance of subjective experience. I have absolutely no investment in how the events ultimately pan out. Blorbos were meant to be tormented. It's important for their enrichment and mine. Is Morrigan going to fuck them over? Maybe, maybe not. But it is going to be a really interesting story either way. And really at the core of it, a really interesting story is what Morrigan likes most.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #critical role meta #critical role campaign 3 #Bell's Hells #Morrigan the Fate Stitcher #Fearne Calloway #Chetney Pock O'Pea #Orym of the Air Ashari

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