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satanzhole · 5 months

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WHB Satan

Satan’s H- scene and the way he called mc a dirty bitch in his card story inspired me to write this. His h- scene was hot but I needed more fr

Satan x fem!reader

CW: degradation, choking, creampie, squirting, pussy slapping, fingering, coochie being ate, fucked grammar

MINORS FUCK OFF

You were walking in an alley in Gahanna along with Satan, Sitri, and Ppyong when suddenly you felt an immense amount of pain in your chest so much so that you couldn’t properly breathe.

“Solomon?”, Sitri asked with a worried expression on his face as he turned around and saw you collapsed on the ground and holding your chest. Sitri hurried to your side to help you off the ground but you were still panting.

“Oh Mc! I don’t think she can breathe properly, aye!” Ppyong shouted as he floated toward you.

“ Ohh is “that” it?” Satan said while walking back to you. He snatched you away from Sitri and studied your complexion in his arms.

“Did something happen to Mc?”, Ppyong asked.

“It looks like Mc can’t breath”, Sitri stated with an anxious expression on his face.

You could hear the devils around you stirring but due to your current predicament, you weren’t able to understand them properly. At first you felt stifled in the chest and found it difficult to breathe but now, you felt like someone was trying to strangle the life out of you.

“This is a human and we are in hell”, Satan remarked as he looked down at you in his arms.

“Mc. According to your Earthiem knowledge, you’re currently on a different planet”.

“Does that mean… Mc is like this because the environment changed a lot?”, Ppyong asked.

“That’s right”.

“Ooh…! Now I understand, aye! I heard that humans need oxygen tanks or space suits when they go to different planets, aye! But right now Mc…”

“Is completely naked”

“Then if this continues ….” said Sitri.

“Mc will keep struggling to breath until they dry up like a mummy”, Satan explained with a troubled look on his face.

“Mc won’t die right away, but will be in even more pain”.

“Does that mean… that I have to return to Earth. I want to stay here”, you asked Satan as you were still panting from the lack of oxygen. You grabbed the hem of Satan’s clothes and spoke.

“ I’m going to help you until the end.”

“But Solomon, you should worry about your own state”, Sitri commented.

“ Help until the end… I want that too”, Satan said firmly as he looked you in the eyes.

“ I didn’t say there isn't a way”.

Sitri and Ppyong both gasped in surprise at Satan.

“Think of it, descendent of Solomon, humans lived here before you. Solomon. Your ancestor. At that time, there was a method that the devils devised with him. We’ll constantly blow “devil energy” inside of you to make you adapt to Hell”.

“In other words, I think he’s saying that he will give you an oxygen mask, aye!”, Ppyong shouted gleefully.

When Satan nodded, Ppyong proudly wagged his tail. But you were finding it harder and harder to breathe.

“Your Majesty, I think we should use that method as soon as possible”, Sitri suggested.

“Alright” , said Satan, and covered your eyes with his hand to block your view.

“Satan?”

“Think of the place you feel the most comfortable in”

“The place I feel the most comfortable in…”

Your room was the first to come to your mind… No, it was Minhyeok’s room. Where you could be the most comfortable while the sun was up.Where all your precious porn files were …

“ I have it”

“Alright. Before you open your eyes…

You felt Satan look up at the surroundings. Satan started speaking to both Sitri and Ppyong.

“Once Mc accepts the devil energy, she’ll fall asleep for a while. Because humans use their stamina to properly absorb that energy in their body. For those few hours we will have to protect Mc”.

“ Leave it to us, your Majesty Satan”.

“ We’ll do our best, you Majesty Satan, aye!”

“Also, we can never let the angels know that Mc has to receive devil energy intermittently, and that she has to fall asleep because of that”.

“Of course your Majesty Satan”.

“Of course, your Majesty, aye!”

That was the last you heard from Sitri and Ppyong.

“Alright Mc. Open your eyes”.

Satan finished beseeching and lifted his hand from your eyes. Minyeok’s room was spread out before your eyes, and only you and Satan were left in it. You widen your eyes at the surprising and much missed scenery. Satan grinned at you, still holding you in his arms as he supported you.

“Is this really Minhyeok’s room?”

“I don’t care whose room you thought of. But this is a place from your heart where you feel most comfortable. It’s a virtual space in your heart realized”.

You still found it hard to breathe. But when you stood in some place similar, you somehow felt more at ease. The walls with vintage baseball cards that Minhyeok collected. The table with the picture he took with you in the past. Everything was identical to Minhyeok’s room that you knew.

There was one thing that you weren’t familiar with.

“Satan…”

“Hm?”

“Why am I naked?” Pain and impression aside, you couldn’t not ask that question. You thought it was strange how you were the only one who was standing there naked. Standing in front of Satan like this made you feel exposed but it was also turning you on.

Instead of answering your question, Satan took your face into his hands and kissed you deeply. His pink tinted lips were plump, warm and soft. You parted your lips so he took the chance to slip his tongue in. His hands moved away from your face and traveled down to your ass. He grabbed and squeezed your ass in his hands, spreading your cheeks apart enough that your pussy lips spread as well. He released your ass only to slap it and grip it again. You heard a deep growl come from Satan and you felt yourself getting wet. Satan guided you toward the bed and soon you felt something behind your knees. The two of you separated as you began to slowly sit down on the bed. Before you even sit, Satan gave you a cocky smile and pushed your shoulder back on the bed. He leaned over you while his fingers grazed your lips, neck, and breast.

“I thought you were an interesting human. From when I first saw you”.

“Because I’m a descendent of Solomon?”

“No, because the video you were watching was so interesting”

You were now completely laid back on the bed and Satan was on top of you. He trapped you between two arms and it gave you the perfect view of his well toned muscles that were covered with bold veins. He leaned down and gave you a kiss on the lips, jaw, and neck then sat back up and began to slide his clothes off. Each time he took off a piece of clothing, you couldn’t help but look amazed by how perfect his body is. His body has incomparable beauty which is no surprise considering the fact that he was made in God’s image. Your eyes started at his plump chest and traveled past his thick veiny arms and firm abs. He has a bold v-line, a light pink happy trail that matches his hair and even more small veins that lead down to his brick hard shaft. His dick is curved upward and just about reached his belly button. It’s girthy with three visible veins with precum leaking out of the head and sliding down the shaft.

“ You looked at me like that in the beginning too”, Satan said with a red tinted face.

“Hold your legs open. I wanna play with your pussy first”, he ordered in a low tone, grinning. You did exactly what you were told and hooked your arms under your legs and held them up for him. He went straight to rubbing your sopping wet pussy and teasing your hole that. His middle finger slid right in and slowly pumped into you a few times. You were so wet that his ring finger slipped into you with no resistance. He pumped his curved fingers into your pussy to hit that special spot that’d make you cum all over his fingers.

“ I'm not stopping until I make you squirt and your cum’s running down my hand.” Satan declared before taking one of his hands and wrapping it around your throat while his other is thrusting his fingers in you.

“You hear how wet you are Mc? Your pussy’s so noisy. You really are a dirty little human”, he said, flicking his tongue at you.

Satan’s hand around your throat combined with the lewd noises of your hole being finger fucked by Satan’s thick fingers was pushing you to your limit.

“You’re gonna squirt on me huh? Mmm that’s right.. cum on my fingers like a good girl”, he growled, and it immediately pushed you over the edge.

“Wait Satan! I feel like I’m going to-” and that’s when your juices came sprinkling out of your tightened pussy. Satan immediately pulled his fingers out and cupped your pussy with his mouth. He used his big, flat tongue to swipe it up your pussy then latched his plump lips onto your clit and sucked on it. You came even harder with the added stimulation of Satan sucking on your swollen clit. He slurped up your cum soaked pussy and gave your clit one last suck before he sat back up and released his grip around your throat. The lower half of Satan’s face was damp and glossy, covered in your cum.

You flinched at the swift slap to your pussy but it was soon after soothed with Satan caressing you and soaking his hand in your juices. Satan lifted his hand, showing you his glistening fingers then moved them in front of his lips. He parted his lips and flicked his tongue between his fingers, looking you dead in the eyes to make sure you captured the sight of him cleaning your cum off his fingers.

“I want you on your hands and knees for me”, Satan said grinning at you while he reached for his dick. He stood back up, gripped his tip then slid his hand down to the base, wetting his entire length with precum. He couldn’t resist touching himself, seeing you with your ass up, sloppy, wet pussy waiting for him to stuff you balls deep. You wiggled your ass for him in anticipation and he responded with a rough slap to your ass. He slapped your ass two more times before he grabbed your cheeks, spreading your fat, wet pussy lips so he could get a better view of your clenching hole. You felt him slide his dick between your folds and up your ass, picking up your juices and teasing your pussy. The sensation of his tip repeatedly rubbing against your clit and gliding between your lips made you whimper out his name.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you. I’m not giving you what you want until you say it ”, Satan purred in a low voice, pushing his tip into you but only enough to tease you. Satan can really be an asshole. Making you be so upfront about how bad you want him to fuck your brains out. He knows it’s embarrassing for you and that’s why he enjoys it so much. You were hesitating for too long so he spoke again.

“ Come oon. Nasty, perverted human can’t tell me she wants me to fuck her? I know how filthy minded you are mc. What’s holding you back now? ”

You didn’t even have to look at him to know that he had that cocky grin on his face. Even though Satan’s just egging you on, you’ve got to admit he’s right. You are quite dirty minded. He literally saw your porn collection. You’re always so horny that when you first met Satan, you were only thinking about how good he’d fuck you. So there shouldn’t be a problem with telling Satan how bad you want him, right?

By now, Satan has started slowly pushing his tip further in. He was getting antsy. Your pussy looks so wet and sexy, he could cum just looking at it. You wanted Satan to just fuck his whole length into you so bad that it made you finally gather the courage to come out with it already.

“ I want you to fuc-”

“Look at me in the eyes and say it”

Your face was burning up but you did as you were told. You turned around to look at him in his scarlet eyes and repeated yourself.

“I want you to fuck me Satan” , you said in a shy, sultry voice. Satan growled and flicked his tongue at you. There was a loud “squelch” coming from Satan entering you as he bottomed out. You both let out a moan at how amazing it felt. You’re so full of him right now. There was the pain of being stretched out by his girth but it hurt so good. He moved his hips back and his dick came out glossy, covered in your pussy’s juices. Satan slowly pushed himself balls deep again forcing another “squelch” sound to ring out. He still had a grip on your ass, spreading your lips so he could see your wet pussy gripping him as he went in and out of you.

You felt a sudden pain in your head due to Satan grabbing a first full of your hair, forcing you to arch your back for him. Now he can start fucking you into next week.

Satan loved the view of your ass jiggling and bouncing off of his hips. As he was fucking into you, his balls repeatedly slapped your clit and gave you extra stimulation. The feeling made your pussy clench around his length.

“Mmm fuck. Trying to make me cum already hm? You’re squeezing me so tight mc” , he purred as he kept his steady pace of pounding into you.

“I wanna see you fuck yourself on my cock. Be a good slut and make yourself cum all over this dick ”

He gave you one last deep stroke then pulled out, leaving his tip inside you.

“Go on. Start moving”, Satan ordered in a deep, seductive tone. The strong grip in your hair was still there forcing you to keep your back arched. You first slowly took in his length all the way to the base then slowly moved your body forward, taking in the feeling of his veiny cock sliding in and out of you. You were throwing your ass back on him while rolling your hips then felt his tip tapping your g-spot. Your slick was starting to build up and cream his cock.

“You should see how creamy your pussy is right now mc. It’s so sexy. Keep going just like that until you cum”, he said as he watched your pussy lips wrap around his cock and swallow his length over and over.

You began feeling a heavy tingling sensation as your walls spasmed around his cock.

“Fuck! Satan” , you whimpered.

“You did really well mc. But I'm still not done with you yet.”

He pulled your body up against his own so that your back was against his chest. You felt his dick in you so much deeper in this position. Satan wrapped his right hand around your throat then used his left hand to rub your clit while he stirred his dick in you. You were so wet now that your juices were dripping onto the bed sheets.

“Plop plop plop” along with your and Satan’s lustful moans filled the air.

“Mmhh your pussy’s sucking me so good. Keep taking my dick like that and I’ll let you have my cum”.

The hand that was clasped around your throat forced you to turn your head toward him and look at him in his vibrant red eyes. Satan looked at you with hunger, as if he’d devour you right then and there. He glanced down at your lips then went in for a rough, but passionate, sloppy tongue kiss. He took his time digging his cock deep inside you, almost deep enough to nudge your cervix. The way he was steady rubbing your swollen clit and stretching you out like this made you gasp and break away from Satan’s plush lips.

You were feeling that familiar tingling sensation you felt earlier built up again. You were so close to cuming and you could tell you were going to cum hard this time.

“Satan I’m so close I’m gonna cum ”, you whimpered.

“Yea? Then go on and cum on my dick you dirty bitch. I want your creamy pussy soaking my cock in cum. Do it now you fucking slut”.

Satan’s command was all that was needed to push you into a state of intense ecstasy. Your eyes were rolled back, your legs were shivering, and you were babbling nonsense but that didn’t stop Satan from fucking you through your orgasm.

“Aaah shit mc. Keep squeezing me just like that. You’re gonna take all of my cum like the nasty little cum slut you are”.

As Satan moaned with his gruff, husky voice in your ear, his pace became faster and sloppier.

His cum mixed in with your juices and cream and overflowed in you, causing it to drip down his balls and your legs. Satan pulled out his dick, making a wet sucking sound leave your pussy. You were so exhausted from how fucked out you were that you fell onto the bed once Satan released you. Your eyes were getting extremely heavy. Satan laid beside you then gathered you in his arms to cuddle as you drifted off to sleep.

“Go ahead and rest, Mc. I know you humans need it after being worn out like that. I’ll be waiting here for you”.

That was the last thing you heard as you drifted off into some much needed sleep.

Omg y’all this was my first time writing smut. It’s probably cringey garbáge but I’d appreciate feedback or whateva

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mamabearcatfanfics · 20 days

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Cairo Prison - InuKag

Sometimes, I write things just for myself, as a little treat. I might write my other favourite scenes here and there. Who knows, eventually I might have enough to string together a whole plot line. But lookie here @elkonigin and @coquinespike - have a little InuKag scene from The Mummy on me. If I ever find where I've put my laptop pen, there may even be some art to go with this.

Kagome swept across the courtyard, her anger making her simmer even hotter under the midday sun. She wasn’t sure who she was more annoyed at – the squat prison Warden for the obviously lecherous looks he was giving her, or Miroku, for lying about where he got the puzzle box. She shivered a little as they passed the gallows, not wanting to think too much about what usually took place here. When the Warden paused for a moment to speak to one of the guards, she rounded on Miroku, her voice a hissing whisper.

“I can’t believe you Miroku! You said that you found that box at a dig in Thebes! And now I find out you stole it from a drunk at the local Casbah! You told me a barefaced lie!”

Miroku looked a little chastened, but then fought back with a winning smile, hooking his arm into hers as they continued across the courtyard.

“That’s a bit harsh, Kagome dear”, he said, patting her hand affectionately. “We were playing cards, a gentleman’s game. I would have won it fair and square if he hadn’t got himself into an altercation. He left it unattended in his pocket. What was I going to do, leave it behind? He probably didn’t even know what it was.”

“You. Lied. To. Me.” Kagome hissed.

“What’s a little white lie between family members, ey?” He tried a winsome smile, which faltered quickly under Kagome’s withering gaze. “I mean, you’re not the only one I lie to old mum. But at least the lies I tell you are pretty ones.”

“That makes it worse! I’m your sister Miroku! Whatever happened to us against the world, together through thick and thin!”

Miroku looked taken aback, even slightly hurt.

“I’m deeply offended. Didn’t I come straight to you with the box? I could have just sold it, but I knew it was something special. And I knew you would be smart enough to recognise that. We both know you’re the one with the brains in this family Kagome dear.” Glancing nervously around, he tugged on her arm, trying to turn her back towards the way they’d just come. “And anyway, I don’t think this is the best place for a lady, so how about we just pop back to-”

Kagome glared at him furiously as he tried to make a run for the door, wrapping her hand around his bicep tightly so he couldn’t get away.

“Stop trying to get out of this Miroku. You can’t sweet talk your way out of this one. Oh, I am absolutely livid! Not only have we lost the most important part of the map, but we have to come here, to this place. You are going to stay here with me and see this through!”

She shuddered a little self-consciously. There were quite a few leering eyes directed towards her, and not all of them were owned by prisoners safely behind bars. Miroku patted her hand again, obviously trying to soothe her, and Kagome straightened her spine.

They’d been through plenty of scrapes together, her and Miroku. They only had each other since their parents died, social outcasts amongst the English elite due to their mother’s Egyptian heritage. She’d barely got Miroku back in one piece after the war, one of his hands shattered by a bullet directly through his palm. She knew it still hurt him, even though he never complained. He’d always been devil may care, even before he was conscripted, but since his return it was like he invited trouble. She was constantly worried about him. This was a chance to find the legendary Hamunaptra together, and there was no way she was going to back down, even if she was more than a little out of her comfort zone here.

Warden Mukotsu came back, his eyes running over her lasciviously, and Kagome lifted her chin in defiance, staring back at him with spirit. She pulled her elbow away from his grasping stubby fingers as he ushered both her and Miroku over to the rusted iron bars surrounding a holding pen. The locked metal door behind it probably led to somewhere unspeakable.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Wasn’t this what she had always wanted? A chance to show that she was not only a scholar, but able to go toe to toe with all the pompous, overstuffed Egyptologists? A chance to put all her knowledge to good use? She could do this.

Clearing her throat in an attempt to make her voice as unaffected as she needed it to be, she turned her attention away from the locked metal door to Warden Mukotsu.

“So, what is this man in prison for?” she asked, attempting an imperious tone. She hoped it wasn’t something horrible, like rape or murder.

The warden preened under her gaze, and she turned her eyes forward again, not wanting to encourage him one iota. He was giving her the creeps. Besides, there was some kind of ruckus going on behind the closed door, yelling, swearing, chains rattling. What on earth was going on back there? Miroku was looking more and more like he was going to bolt, and she pinched his arm viciously to keep him beside her, gratified when he yelped like a little girl.

The warden chuckled, his dark eyes squinting in the hot, midday sun.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting lady, but he’s not human.” He spat derisively on the ground, and Kagome grimaced, tucking the toes of her boots safely back under her long skirt. “He’s a dirty half djinn, with the ears of a jackal. His words cannot be trusted. But I did ask him.”

“And what did he say?” Kagome asked, unsure if she actually wanted the answer to that question. What on earth had Miroku gotten them into this time?

The warden leered at her, before leaving momentarily to handle a disturbance on the other side of the courtyard.

“He said, he was just looking for a good time.”

The metal door burst open with a clang. Four guards dragged a prisoner forwards, their arms and legs wrapped in chains. Despite the handicap, he seemed to be fighting them every step of the way.

His shirt and pants were ragged, his grey, hip length hair matted and oily, hanging in clumped tendrils around his face. Both her and Miroku took a step backwards at the absolute stench that surrounded him. One of the guards walloped him on the head with a truncheon, hard enough for them to hear a solid thump as it connected. Kagome winced in sympathy as it smacked one of his canine ears, blood trickling onto his scalp, and he snarled loudly, baring some very obvious fangs. Another guard beat him again, and the other two kicked him in the back of the knees, forcing him to kneel in front Miroku and Kagome. He grasped the bars in front of him as best he could with his shackled wrists, teeth still bared in anger, amber eyes full of rage.

“This is the person you took the box from?!” Kagome squeaked in surprise, shuffling backwards a tiny step. She’d never seen anyone like him before, and the scholar in her was already wanting to know more. Why did he have dogs ears and fangs? He had slitted pupils like a cat – could he see things human eyes couldn’t? Where had he come from? Did he speak English or Arabic? Or some other language she had no knowledge of?

“Shush, not so loud,” muttered Miroku from the corner of his mouth, turning his face away from the prisoner kneeling in front of them.

“Who are you?” the prisoner demanded, looking Miroku up and down, then turning his eyes almost immediately towards Kagome, as if he’d judged Miroku’s worth and found him lacking. “Who’s the wench?”

“Wench!?” Kagome sputtered, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. The sudden smirk on the prisoners face, and the accompanying glint in his inhuman amber eyes, made her want to slap him. She’d been feeling a little sorry for him after witnessing his treatment at the hands of the guards a moment before, but now she was seething.

“Ah, hello my good man,” smiled Miroku, pushing Kagome a little behind himself. “I’m just a humble local missionary, visiting the prison to save the souls of unfortunates such as yourself…” He faltered a little as he watched the prisoner ignore him, picking at his teeth with the very pointed, and probably very sharp, claw on his little finger. He dragged a reluctant Kagome forward. “And this here is my younger sister, Kagome.”

“How do you do?” said Kagome, attempting a cordial tone, then stiffening as the prisoner looked her up and down.

“Tch. Well, I guess she’s not a total loss.” He turned his head away.

“Excuse me!” said Kagome, tapping her foot at a rapid pace on the dirt, in an attempt to mitigate the burst of anger that was beginning to rise at this man’s attitude. “Excuse me, Mr…”

“Inuyasha. Just Inuyasha.”

Kagome nodded, and tried her best to smile winningly at him. “Inuyasha then.” She made the tone of her voice as warm as possible, speaking slowly and carefully, her expression coy. “You see, my brother and I found a puzzle box that we believe you might be able to help us with.”

“Bullshit.”

“I beg your pardon!?” she exclaimed. Both Miroku and Inuyasha winced at her loud and high pitched tone of indignation.

“I smell bullshit,” Inuyasha repeated gruffly. “We both know you didn’t come here to dirty your pretty little shoes in this hellhole to ask me about some box, lady. You and this stuffed shirt came here to ask me about Hamunaptra, am I right?”

Both Kagome and Miroku’s eyes widened in surprise. They both looked around nervously, hoping the guards hadn’t heard anything, and moved a little closer to the bars.

“How do you know the box has anything to do with Hamunaptra?” asked Kagome, barely able to keep the excitement out of her voice. Now they were getting somewhere!

“Because that’s where I found it.”

Miroku leaned forward, his voice a little suspicious.

“How can we believe anything someone like you would say?”

“Wait, do I know you?”

Miroku gave a nervous chuckle.

“Oh no, I don’t believe- “

Inuyasha’s nose twitched slightly, and then his eyes widened in recognition. He glowered at Miroku.

“You!”

Before Miroku could even think about taking a step backwards, Inuyasha’s fist shot forwards, catching Miroku on the chin. Even hampered as Inuyasha was by the chains, as soon as the blow connected, Miroku was laid out cold. One of the guards whacked his already bleeding ear again, hard, forcing his forehead to bounce off the metal bars in front of him.

“Hey, watch it, fucker!”

Kagome looked down at Miroku, laying prone at her feet, then delicately raised her skirt a little as she stepped over him to get closer to the bars, her eyes full of excitement.

“You were actually at Hamunaptra?” she asked, her voice full of wonder. Inuyasha stared at her in amazement.

“Don’t you care that I just decked your brother?”

She waved a placating hand at him.

“Oh, he’s had worse, I’m sure he’ll be fine in a moment. But Hamunaptra! You were actually there?!”

She watched as Inuyasha’s amazement changed into a lazy grin.

“Yeah wench, I was there.”

She was so excited that she hardly noticed what he called her.

“You were there? Oh my goodness, I can’t believe it!” Her eyes narrowed a little in suspicion, and she moved even closer. “Do you swear?”

The lazy grin grew wider, a pointed fang lowering over his cracked lower lip.

“Every damn day.”

Kagome scoffed.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

The grin was still there, then it dropped away from his face.

“I know what you meant. But I was there alright. Seti's place. The City of The Dead.”

Kagome could hardly contain her excitement.

“What did you see there?”

“A lot of sand.” He almost shuddered. “And a lot of death.”

But Kagome would not be put off now. Not when she was so close. She could see the warden coming back, and she just had to get this information. She leaned closer to him, taking off her hat to guard their conversation.

“Inuyasha,” she whispered, her tone determined. “Could you tell me how to get there?”

He looked at her, and blinked slowly, his expression nonplussed.

“The exact location,” she wheedled, eyes shining with excitement, “pretty please?”

“You really wanna know?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“You really, really wanna know?”

“Yes, yes, more than anything!” she said, almost bursting with nervous excitement.

He beckoned her closer, gesturing with one pointed finger.

“C’mere then.”

She was now almost nose to nose with him, ears straining, eyes wide, ready to commit anything he might say to memory so she could write it down as soon as a pen and paper were handy. If only she’d bought one of her notebooks with her! But before she knew it, one of Inuyasha’s hands shot out, not to punch her as he had Miroku, but grab her chin firmly. And then his chapped lips were planted firmly against hers.

Before she had a chance to register anything more than shocked astonishment at receiving her very first kiss in such a manner, the lips were dragged away.

“You wanna know so bad? Then get me the fuck outta here lady!”

She watched as all four guards rained blows down on his head, dragging him backwards. She heard the warden laughing maliciously behind her.

“Wait, wait, I’m not done talking to him yet! Where are they taking him?”

“To be hanged.”

“Why?” Kagome gasped, her shock at this sudden turn of events evident. She grimaced at the wide grin Warden Mukotsu gave her.

“Apparently, he had a very good time.”

Kagome hurried after Mukotsu, almost tripping over Miroku as she strove to keep with the warden.

They climbed a set of stairs to a balcony overlooking the whole courtyard, Mukotsu sitting down to watch the show, while Kagome hovered anxiously, fingers tapping nervously on the balcony railing. She watched as Inuyasha was dragged up the stairs to the gallows. Other prisoners hollered and jeered as the noose was roughly forced over his head, then cinched tightly around his throat. He made direct eye contact with her, his expression stoic. What could she do? Suddenly she had a brain wave, turning to address the warden.

“What if I offered you one hundred pounds to secure his release?”

The warden shrugged, noisily snacking on a plate of dates on a small table at his side. Juice and spittle ran down his chin as he answered.

“I would pay one hundred to see him hang,” he replied, his eyes fixed on the gallows below.

“Two hundred pounds, then,” she bargained, eyes darting back and forth between Inuyasha and the warden, who ignored her totally. He stood for a moment, bellowing down to the guards below.

“Proceed!”

“Three hundred pounds!” Kagome said desperately. She could tell Inuyasha could hear their conversation even over the dreadful noise of the screaming prisoners, his ears twitched in their direction. She looked back towards him and saw him nod at her, as if to say, keep it going. The yelling suddenly grew quiet as the hangman addressed Inuyasha.

“Any last requests, dog?” he sneered, spitting on the trapdoor near Inuyasha’s feet.

Inuyasha pretended to look thoughtful for a moment, then spat his reply.

“Yeah, I'd like ya to let me go.”

The Hangman grabbed the lever to the trapdoor with a leering grin.

“FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS!” yelled Kagome, sitting down on the seat next to the Warden, her eyes pleading, then recoiled as he set his greasy, lecherous hand high on her thigh, fingers grabbing hard enough to bruise.

“Anything additional to offer?”

Before she could think, Kagome slapped his hand in revulsion, then gasped as Warden Mukotsu angrily turned and gestured to the Hangman. The trapdoor dropped away with loud bang.

“Oh no!”

She watched, horrified as Inuyasha dropped through the hole, his body jerking as the rope pulled taut. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t. His legs kicked wildly, then stopped, and for a moment, she thought all was lost. The rope spun him lazily around to face her again, and she realised he was still alive.

“Ha! His neck did not break! Good! Now we watch him strangle to death,” jeered the Mukotsu, stuffing another date into his mouth.

Angry chanting began amongst the prisoners, and the guards shouldered their guns nervously. Kagome could see Miroku climbing the steps, staggering a little, but she didn’t have time to help him right now. Not when a man’s life and finding Hamunaptra was at stake. She leaned towards the Warden.

“He knows the location to Hamunaptra”, she whispered urgently.

Warden Mukotsu’s head jerked toward her, his expression incredulous.

“You lie.”

“I would never!”

She glanced back towards the gallows. At the end of the rope, Inuyasha was making horrible choking and gagging sounds, his face a grotesquely mottled shade of red. She had to hurry!

The Warden eyed her suspiciously, wiping date juice off the corner of his mouth with a dirty sleeve.

“Are you saying this filthy godless son of a dog knows where to find The City of The Dead? Truly?”

“Yes, and if you cut him down, we will give you ten percent,” she said quickly, hoping that this would work. Inuyasha didn’t look like he had much time left.

“Fifty percent.”

She hesitated a moment, glancing back to Inuyasha, and watched his eyes widen at her incredulously at her bargaining. She quickly turned her eyes back to the Warden.

“Twenty.”

“Forty.”

Kagome hesitated again, biting her lip. Inuyasha’s eyes were looking up at her, almost bulging out of his head, like he couldn’t believe her.

“Give .... give him .... give him,” he coughed.

Under pressure, Kagome shrieked, “Twenty-five percent, and not one single farthing more!”

The Warden leered at her, then yelled down to the hangman. The sunlight bounced off the scimitar in his hands as he swung, cutting the rope, sending Inuyasha plummeting to the ground. His bound hands scrabbled in the dirt as he fought to get himself onto his knees, coughing and wheezing, taking deep breaths. His bloodshot eyes looked up towards the balcony.

Miroku finally made it up the stairs, leaning against the railing with a groan.

“So, how’d we do old mum? Did we win?” he asked, looking with some distaste at the leering grin of the Warden, then down into the courtyard at Inuyasha, who was still on his knees.

Kagome smiled broadly, and waved down at Inuyasha, who glowered at her.

“Yes Miroku, I do believe this visit was a success,” she said, excitement bubbling up. They were going to Hamunaptra!

“Jolly good show,” replied Miroku, gently fingering the darkening bruise on his chin.

#mamabearcat fanfics #inukag fanfic #the mummy au #this was so much fun to write!#need to get back to writing the next chapter of PUP but I'd love to do some more for The Mummy #I just love that movie so much!

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fieldofdaisiies · 11 months

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Elucien | The Things that Go Bump in the Night

type: drabble warning(s): none word count: ~1.2k words summary: at breakfast Elain and Lucien’s daughter has some questions about the things she heard the previous night, a little afraid her parents were fighting, and of course Nesta and Cassian are present, making it even more uncomfortable; this is inspired by a scene from bad moms

Elain kisses the top of Lucien’s head while she listens to Nesta talk about the Valkyrie training. She has just placed the last basket with freshly baked bread onto the table and a lovely smell lies in the air.

She smiles at her sister, loving how despite being six months pregnant she still does a little bit of training. Lucien’s curls his arm around his mate who is standing next to the chair he is sitting on. Elain leans onto him, her own arm wrapping around his shoulders and she smiles both at what Nesta is saying and at how much she loves her mate. Next to the table, Cassian is swirling young Dalia, Elain and Lucien’s daughter around. He keeps throwing her into the air and catching her again which makes the young girl squeal and giggle joyfully. She spreads her arms, laughing loudly and lands in Cassian’s arms once again. “If you had wings you would be unstoppable,” the tall Illyrian tells her and squeezes her gently to which grins brightly. But then her eyes move to her parents and she pouts. “They look happy, right?” she says with a tinge of sadness in her voice. The corners of her mouth are downcast and gone is the former happiness, the sparkle in her russet eyes vanishing. She brings one hand up and brushes back the red strands of hair that fell into her face.

Cassian eyes follow the direction she is looking at and he nods his head. “Of course. They look very happy. They are very happy.” He smiles, but there is still a pout on Dalia’s lips which makes him furrow his brows. His heart feels a little heavy at Elain doubting her parents’ love for one another. “Why would you ask, little one?”

“Because they were fighting last night.” Cassian can hardly imagine that. Yes, he and Nes fight from time to time, but Lucien and Elain…they never do somehow. And Cassian is not the only one who is perplexed about Dalia’s statement. Elain has caught some parts of their conversation and turns, her hand still resting on Lucien’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, why would you think your father and I were fighting?”

Dalia releases a loud sigh, her shoulders lifting and dropping in a dramatic manner. She pouts her lips again and rests her own tiny hand on Cassian’s broad shoulder. “I heard you and daddy in the bedroom last night.”

Colour drains form Elain’s face and her eyes widen so much that her eye-balls threaten to fall out of their sockets. Lucien’s whole body goes rigid, on his face a slightly shocked expression. Wide-eyed, he stares at his daughter, shaking his head little.

“You kept screaming at him, mummy,” Dalia continues, her lips pursed.

“Oh…” Elain stutters, squeezing her mate’s shoulder, hoping he will help her. But Lucien is lost for words, his body as stiff as a board. Elain curses him internally and swallows thickly, hearing Nesta, who folds a hand over her mouth, chuckle under her breath.

“Sweetheart…those were happy screams. Not sad ones.”

Nesta can barely contain it anymore, grinding her teeth to not laugh loudly. And the same goes for Cassian. His posture is fully rigid, his eyes trained on the wall behind Elain, fully focused so he won’t break into a laughing fit. “But you punched the wall. Over and over again. It went bump, bump, bump…” Dalia is boxing the air with one hand to make her point clear. “And bump, and bump again, mummy. Almost like a piece of furniture banged against the wall.” Dalia’s eyes widen as well, as she describes the situation in very much detail.

Colour has returned to Elain’s face, her cheeks and cleavage now bright red and heat probably radiating from her skin. Her finger tips dig into Lucien’s shoulder.

“I think you might have heard our cat, Dalia,” Lucien comes to Elain’s rescue…or not. He really is not helpful, but it was the only thing he could think of.

“The cat was sleeping in my bed, daddy. And then you were shouting, mummy. You shouted the bad word I am not allowed to say.” Dalia grimaces, grits her teeth and in a hushed voice she says, “The f-word.”

She is still grimacing when she meets her mother’s eyes, Elain’s face now a beetroot red, a grimace on her face as well. “And you shouted, Gods Lucien, and that over and over again. And you always say that when you are mad at daddy, so you were fighting. I know it.” Dalia rapidly blinks her eyes, waving her index finger around in the air, like she has just discovered the greatest secret.

A silent chuckle parts Nesta’s lips, but she quickly grabs her glass of water and takes a huge gulp from it, hoping to drown it. In the meantime, Cassian is calling upon every rational part of himself to not laugh, he still stares at the wall, inhaling deep breaths. He can’t look at Elain nor Lucien, and never in the world at his mate who is trying so hard not to laugh.

Elain’s palm is sweaty and she taps her fingers against Lucien’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, mummy and daddy were not fighting…..We were…we were playing a game.”

“A game where you have to punch the wall?” Dalia furrows her brows again. Lucien is nodding frantically and so is his mate. “Yes, Dalia. It is a special grown-up game,” the Vanserra male says.

Dalia shrugs a little, still unsure if they tell her the truth and are not lying to her about fighting.

“You played the game seven times,” she says matter-of-factly, lifts one brow and tilts her head to the side. Nesta is now biting the insides of her cheeks and so is Cassian. Who would have thought that about Elain?

A small chuckle slips through Lucien’s lips. “Well, you must know that it is your mummy’s favourite game.” Lucien grins and folds his hand over Elain’s that is still on his shoulder. “She just can’t get enough of it, wants to play it over and over again. Never grows tired. Always begging me to play.”

If her eyes could throw daggers, Elain would do that right now to the back of Lucien’s head. Instead she just digs her nails into his shoulder, her lips forming a mischievous grin. “Oh…” she coos. “Am I really the one to always begs to play? I think we could easily take a break for a few weeks? Months maybe? And then we will see who is the one begging?” Elain leans down and presses a quick kiss to Lucien’s cheek who really wants to flip off his mate. Yet he just grins, loving her and her feisty side just too much. His eyes follow her swaying hips when she walks past him and up to Cassian, taking Dalia from his hold to cuddle her to her chest. “Sweetheart, don’t worry. We really were not fighting. Mummy and daddy love each other so much, there is no reason for you to worry. And we love you so much, please don’t worry, sweetheart.” Elain kisses young Dalia’s cheek who slings her arms around her mother and cuddles her tightly. “If you say so.” She smiles, her nose pressing into Elain’s cheek. “But what game was it?”

~~~~~~~~ tags: @rippahwrites @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis @ladyelain @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional @moonlightazriel@aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @sunshinebingo @gracie-rosee @a-frog-with-a-laptop

#elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien #elucien fluff #elucien daughter #acotar #acosf #acowar

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 1 month

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RTA, speaking of pro-Sussex KK and fam, there’s something fishy imo about the Delaware-incorporated name of MM’s new ARO venture: Mama Knows Best. Whose “Mama” are we talking about, anyway? Mama Doria? Mummy Diana? Mama Momager Kris Jenner? Mama Megs herself? All of the above? There are just too many suspicious PR crossovers between the Sussexes and the Kardashians lately. Doria, Kris, Kim hanging out a few months ago and getting photo-opped together. MM appearing Kardashian-adjacent at Beyonce’s concerts. Harry going skiing with Kris’ SO. Harry allegedly zooming his Diana Awards appearance from a ski chalet on said ski trip. Kim snarking that she’s “Off to find Kate.” The rumors of the Sussexes guest appearing on the Kardashians’ new (struggling) show. Is it possible, do you think, that Mama/Momager Kris is Meghan’s (and maybe H’s as well) new business manager and/or business advisor?

**********

The Kardashians have been trying to get in with the royal family for awhile. Back in 2011 - 2014ish, Kim kept trying to make friends with Kate. Everything from creating and posting ‘Happy birthday Kate’ video messages on social media, giving interviews about how much she loves Kate’s style, naming products after Kate, sending Kate gifts (which KP always returned unopened), matchmaking Prince George and North West together (here’s an example), and paying for a lot of PR on the one time Kate wore the same dress Kim did in 2012 and again in 2015 when Kate rewore it.

As far as we know, Kate never reciprocated or acknowledged Kim Kardashian’s efforts. And for all intent and purpose, Kim gave up on trying to make fetch happen with the royal family. But then Meghan came around, who’s much more Kardashian-like than Middleton-like or Windsor-like that made Kim’s royal aspirations more of a reality.

One of the things I’ve noticed about the Kardashians - Kim more particularly than the rest of them - is that they’re always looking for the next thing that will further legitimize their fame and further solidify their status as “real” A-listers instead of grifters that know how to hustle (remember, the family is only famous because they monetized Kim’s sex tape). Up until Kim married Kanye, no one really took them seriously; they were reality TV stars and WAGs. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But they’ve always wanted more and they’ve always used other people to climb up the fame ladder, legitimize their fame, and develop business opportunities.

Which is what Meghan (and Harry) are. They’re a business opportunity for the Kardashians, who’ve been slowly pivoting to more “behind the scenes” producer-type work than “on-camera” talent. They probably see Meghan as an opportunity to do more directing/producing/developing but the joke will probably be on them - they’re too business-savvy (individually and collectively) for Meghan. Meghan thinks she’s business-savvy like they are but she doesn’t come anywhere close. The primary difference between the Kardashians and Meghan is that they have follow-through, and she does not.

I don’t see the partnership lasting very long. Kris only works with people she knows and people who’ll listen to her/do what she wants. The way I see it, the Sussexes have been lovebombing the Kardashians to become family friends so that Kris will work with them. But that still leaves the “listen to/do what other people say” problem, which is probably going to be Meghan’s downfall. She thinks she’s the expert in everything, which will 100% cause problems with Kris.

And then there’s the WME of it. The Kardashians are WME clients (just like Meghan...hey, how about that?!). WME helped Kim get a role in the American Horror Story franchise. The Kardashians could also be friendly with the Sussexes because WME is making it worth their while.

#submission #ask #sussexes

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newtonsheffield · 9 months

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ooohhh girl!!! PLEASEE PLEASEE can we see the other mothers in the school when neddy and anthony get to school with another kid and also kate??? also what did dads said about kate???

Imagine the look on everybody’s face when Neddy returns from his holiday in Switzerland and it’s not Anthony dropping him off. It’s a very startling woman, with dark curly hair and another boy, Neddy’s double clinging nervously to her side even as he smiled at Neddy.

“Neddy, who’s your friend?” One of the braver mothers asked, her eyes fixed on Kate.

Neddy grinned at his friend’s mother, dragging Miles forward by the arm. “This is my brother, Miles. We’re Twins!”

“So you are.” The woman gaped at them both smiling up at her.

“And this is my Mummy!”

The woman stared at Kate in shock while murmurs sprung up behind them but Kate was hardly bothered. She tucked her hair behind her ear, an enormous diamond ring glinting on her left hand. She smiled, “Hi, I’m Kate.”

“Jess.”

“Nice to meet you. I better get these two inside, I’ve got to get Milo settled.”

She watched as Kate bustled the boys inside, blinking after them. “Who… the hell… was that?”

“Their mother clearly.” Her friend whispered. “Now we know where Neddy got those adorable little curls. Fuck, she’s stunning.”

“Is she married to Anthony?!”

“Didn’t you see the ring?!”

“She could be married to someone else! Remarried!”

“She’s young for that.”

“Who’s the hot new Mum?”

Everyone rolled their eyes as Brad appeared on the scene. “Get out, Brad. She’s Mrs Bridgerton, we think.”

The mystery was solved the next moment when Head teacher cleared her throat as Kate approached, “Mrs Bridgerton? Lovely to meet you, your husband let me know he was unable to attend this morning, if you’ll follow me we’ll get started.”

#parent trap au #you’re losing me au #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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lovetransaction · 9 months

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It's wild to me that people's opinions of John (not factoring in personal bleed) are based ENTIRELY on the shitshow that was his life post-Mary death. Like people are out here measuring Sam's and Dean's heights to calculate the nutritional deficit in Dean's physical development but can't spare a minute to think about John as a whole character. Okay come with me for a minute:

you're John Eric Winchester from Normal, Illinois, and you're a pretty ordinary child, there's literally nothing exciting about you but here you are! You exist! You like yo-yos and guns and planes or at least that's what your parents buy for you.

your dad, who tends to go to work at odd hours, takes you to see an Abbott & Costello movie about a mummy when you're a pre-schooler and it scares the piss out of you. Your dad (who has intimate knowledge of the REAL things that go bump in the night) buys you a music box to calm you down. This music box plays a song from one of the most famous cinematic scenes of romantic melancholy that exists. Despite the late 50s being music box heyday with many options available that play lullabies, for some reason everyone thinks this is a reasonable choice. You will in fact idly whistle "As Time Goes By" all throughout your life.

when you're four, your dad abandons you and you never hear from him again or ever find out why he left you.

your mother Millie doesn't remarry. You have no family around (presumably?) so she raises you, alone, a single mother who can't even claim her husband died in the war, any war. You barely talk about your childhood even in relation to your own sons and how you raise them.

you play baseball/softball because where else can you find a readymade source of companionship and a built-in father figure (from a distance).

at seventeen full of anger and a dad-hole a mile wide you fake your age to join the Marines and be shipped off to Vietnam. While you don't talk about it much when you return to the World, you will default to drill sergeant when your back's to the wall.

you become a mechanic because you come from a family of mechanics.

you meet Mary Campbell and your whole future falls into place. Or at least, that's what you believe. Until November 2nd, 1983.

like there's ALL OF THAT before the John Winchester who's an enormous mess but does everything he can to keep his kids alive. I'm not saying anybody needs to like John but the kneejerk response of "he should be KILLED ACTUALLY" to even the canonically unequivocally good things he did while examining other characters' microexpressions down to the nth degree to ascribe victimhood is just so weird.

#john winchester #look i'll never say he was without flaws #he had MANY and he made no attempt to work on them #but as a character and esp the one who haunts the whole narrative #he's fascinating #TO ME! there's my disclaimer. to MEEEE

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seven4asecret · 2 months

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₊✩‧₊˚ Tipping The Scales Pt.5 ˚₊✩‧₊

Moonknight System x Layla x Gn! Avatar! Reader

Content & Warnings: No pronouns, no Y/N, no Smut, descriptions of typical violence, eventual polyamory, & badly written fight scenes.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 (WIP)

Chapter 5: Enter Anpu

You wanted to scream, to cry, to do something as you peered around the column, watching as Harrow knelt. You had never been a violent person, even going so far as to condemn it most of the time, but the growing urge to wrap your fingers tightly around that man's throat made you consider otherwise. It would only be fair, right?

The old saying of an eye for an eye comes to mind.

Surely Harrow had caused enough evil for his death to be a favor, perhaps it was even an overdue justice for the trouble he's caused. Or perhaps that was your twisted sense of rage taking over at the moment.

You didn't want to look. You didn't think you could bear the sight of your friend floating on the water's surface, eyes still wide in shock. He felt so hollow, so empty. And in a way, so did you. Gods... It was only a few days ago that you had been having a laugh in the gift shop over something stupid. You never thought that things would end up like this.

Honestly, you had pictured that maybe one day you'd finally work up the nerve to ask him out for coffee. As something more than just friends or coworkers. And maybe, if things went well and you got really lucky, you'd find that you had room for one more in your flat. You found yourself thinking about him often at work, where you could see him working the register out of the corner of your eye. Sometimes you wondered silly little things, like if he had a favorite flower, or perhaps his opinion on 'The Mummy' from 1932. You had debated asking him to watch it with you, just to be able to listen to him ramble on about what the film did and didn't get right. You wondered if he noticed how you gazed at him when he went off on his tangents, the way your eyes softened at him, the gentle smile that would make its way to your lips. It wasn't your fault he looked incredibly kissable in those moments.

But things would be different now. Your stops at the nearby coffee shop would be for one tea instead of two. You wouldn't get to chat between your tours or hear him groan in response to your newest joke, trying to hide a hint of a smile. You wouldn't be able to listen to his ramblings or return his book. Oh, gods... you still had his book.

The sound of someone wading through water caught your attention and you resisted the urge to peek behind the column, instead choosing to squeeze your eyes shut. You weren't sure what Harrow and his band of followers would do to you if you and Layla were found. She didn't need to go through anything else, it was clear that the whole situation was a lot for her. In all truth, with the burning rage settling in your chest you were more afraid of what you would manage to do to them if they looked behind the column.

You let out a breath, counting down as the splashing retreated to the other end of the pool. There was a moment of silence, the only sound being that of the water lapping at the edges of the platform. Harrow broke the silence, his voice making your jaw clench as it echoed in the small chamber.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way, Marc Spector, Steven Grant, whoever else might be in there."

You glanced at Layla. She didn't meet your eyes looking down in thought, processing the situation. Another step through the water caught your attention as Harrow continued. Your stomach dropped.

"Sometimes we need the cold light of death before we can see reality."

A dark silhouette made itself visible between the two columns that you and Layla were hidden behind. Your eyes snapped to hers and she nodded at you in understanding. Before you could react Layla grabbed the man, plunging a blade into his heart. He let out a soft grunt and you prayed to the gods that Harrow didn't hear.

She nodded her head at you to stay close as she slowly stepped around the column to peer at Harrow. He stood on the steps of the small statue of Ammit, holding it above his kneeling followers beneath him.

"Who wants to heal the world?"

His scepter glowed a sickening purple, letting out the rumble of a crocodile before he set off at a brisk pace, his followers falling in behind him.

As they finally walked out of sight Layla cautiously picked her way across the room, you following close behind. A bit formed in your stomach as you saw the few scattered bodies. It was too hollow here. Too empty. Death was never something pleasant, of course, a tragedy within itself, but now it seemed to surround you. Its evidence permitted the room, with a thick, silent heaviness that neither of you wanted to break. Yet.

As she kneeled beside a body you had to turn away, looking up as you blinked away tears away with a shaky breath. You already knew who it was.

"Marc. Marc." You heard her whisper on the edge of tears, trying to rouse him as if by some miracle he had survived two shots to the heart. She turned to look back at you, her tear-filled eyes pleading for you to confirm he was still hanging onto a thread. You both already knew the answer. You shook your head once, looking down as a tear slipped down your cheek. She sobbed quietly, holding him for a moment and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

You helped her lower him into the water and she turned to you, showing the scarab.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Somehow the two of you had made it into one of Harrow's trucks undetected and overlooked by the others, headdresses shielding your faces. The two of you stayed silent during the ride, processing everything that had just happened. You were still in denial over losing them. It didn't feel real yet. The world around you felt dulled, muted.

You were so consumed by your thoughts that you nearly jumped when you felt something brush against your hand. You looked down to see Layla's hand take yours, intertwining your fingers with hers. Your breath hitched and your eyes met hers. You wanted to smile, to offer her some reassurance. You couldn't. Instead, you just squeezed her hand in return, which seemed to be what she was looking for, not something to make her forget things, just to know that someone was with her too.

Eventually, the two trucks made it back to the ride with a bump, the the truck you were in following behind Harrow's. He pulled to a stop in front of a guarded roadblock. One of the men, speaking Arabic slapped on the hood of his car, Harrow responded by getting out and causing them to panic, grabbing their guns. Harrow stepped out of the truck, hands raised to placate the guards.

"It's all right. It's all right."

The man in front of him held up his gun pointing it right at him, "Show me your papers."

"I don't need to show you my papers. You need to show us your soul." Harrow raised his staff before bringing it against the ground, a wave of purple energy radiating from it. It struck all of the guards causing a bright purple glow to emanate from their chests.

Your handheld Layla's tighter as you watched souls being ripped from their bodies. It nearly made you want to be sick for some odd reason. It felt wrong, so, so, wrong. You felt that same feeling surround you, the ominous hunger, the starvation for power, the very fiber of a being being consumed. You wanted to curl up into a ball, all you could feel, see, and hear, was the repeating mantra of this feeling.

Judgement. Devour. Weigh. Consume.

It echoed louder in your head, seemingly all around you, more prominent than before. All you could see was a purple glow and hear the men screaming as their life was stolen out of their bodies. Darkness lurked at the edge of your awareness, wicked and so, so hungry.

Too much. Too much. Too much. Too much.

You felt yourself tip forward, weightless, before something caught you, a pair of arms. You heard your name being frantically whispered. A moment later you sucked in a breath of air, eyes darting around as the purple cleared from your vision. Your eyes met Layla's and you let out a breath of relief, letting your eyes close as you realized she had leaned you back against her.

"You good? What was that? That was..."

"Weird, yeah" You placed a trembling hand on her arm as she held you, letting yourself settle down and catch your breath. "I-I don't know. It was too much at once. Overwhelming." You let out a shaky breath. "I could feel her, Ammit, I mean. It's not good. Really not good. Harrow must have been stockpiling souls because I have never, never felt a presence like that."

She furrowed her brows. "Shit."

Only now you realized that the truck was empty of Harrow's men and you looked at her. "Uh... where did everyone go?"

"Just over there." *She nods her head to the distance ahead, where Harrow's men are gathered, overlooking things. "But we need to get a move on if we want to take the chance of stopping him." She looks back at you, concern flashing in her eyes. "Sure you're okay to keep going? I don't w-"

"No!" You cut her off, before quickly correcting yourself with a shake of your head. "No. I've already made it this far. I'm not letting this stop me. I'll be fine." You pulled away from her, standing up with a crooked smile as you helped her to her feet. "Besides, you're not the only one who wants to see this through. I want Harrow to pay too. And I'm sure as hell not letting you do this alone."

She returned your smile as she grabbed your hand, standing up. "Alright. Let's do this then. For our boys."

The two of you tread carefully up the road, eyes locked on him through the mess of bodies, an unspoken plan brewing between you. Layla unsheathed her knife. Your hand hovered over the pocketknife you had from the camp.

Just as you were about to pass the car you jumped at the sudden presence. Before you could open your mouth to warn her of another entity the body in front of the car leaned up, addressing Layla in an unexpectedly feminine voice.

"Don't do it."

Layla ignored it and pulled you along to pause behind the truck, eyes still locked on Harrow. You were more hesitant now, it wouldn't be wise to go against the words of a god. "Layla, wait. I am the Goddess Taweret." Her presence felt warm, and lively, it might be best to follow her advice.

"Layla. It's Marc who's telling you to stop." The body raised its hands in an attempt to softly discourage her.

"What the hell is this? He's dead" Layla furrowed her brows, looking at the body. Taweret, or the man she was speaking through sighs softly, dropping back against the ground.

"And I'm talking to you through dead people right now. So what? Listen, Harrow is too powerful for you to stop him alone. If Marc... If he can return to life..."

You paused. Well... Taweret wasn't wrong. If what you felt before was any indication the two of you were already going into deep shit. Getting the help of another deity may be the only way to combat another. But it was her last comment that caught your attention.

"What do you mean, 'return to life'?" Layla questioned skeptically. Taweret didn't reply at first, just letting out a soft groan as the body slumped against the ground again. "He's going to need Khonshu. Break his ushabti. It's in the Chamber of the Gods. And you can be my Avatar. Marc says wonderful things about you."

"No, no, no. I'll fight him on my own." She sheathed her knife.

You were about to speak when you heard one of Harrow's followers bark an order, "It's time to go!" The two of you pulled the fabric of your headdresses over your nose and climbed back into the car as the engine started up. This time your hand found hers as the car pulled away.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The two of you stood on the side of the pyramid, Harrow's men scattered around you, all eyes on him. You bit your lip, resisting the urge to babble on about everything Steven had told-

Suddenly the prospect of entering the pyramid lost its excitement. Your heart sank.

You shifted your focus back to Harrow as he stomped his spear against one of the large blocks with a metal clang. A rumble followed with the scraping of rocks as a crack formed, opening up a dark passageway. Harrow took up the lead.

"Come. You won't believe what the gods have hidden from mankind."

You shuttered as you walked next to Layla amongst his band of followers, keeping your head down. A group of five took their places before Harrow, and you could feel the presence of a god within them. Avatars.

"You're judges, not warriors." Harrow addressed them. "This doesn't need to happen."

The man before him, raised his hands, summoning two orbs of light. Harrow countered, stomping the butt of his staff against the ground, the crocodile eye glowing purple.

Layla took your hand, guiding you down the steps and through a passage. In a moment you were faced with a wall. Among it, scattered blocks were removed to form cubbies, each made to house an oil lamp and aushabti. You and Layla peered among the holes, looking for one that resembled the familiar bird deity.

You paused at one, breath catching in your throat. Its body was humanoid, just like all the others but its head resembled a jackal. Either one of two gods, Wypawet, or Anubis.

"No, way." You let out a breath, picking up the aushabti. As you looked down at the small sculpture you furrowed your brows, all sorts of questions plaguing you. Wasn't he supposed to be the one weighing the hearts? Why had the job fallen to Ammit? What had he done to be confined to stone? You hesitated, you felt the cold weight of the stone, something inside told you to take it, keep it. Layla found the aushabti for Khonshu, taking off to a hidden corner to shatter it against the ground without alerting Harrow.

You went to run after her but stopped. Your breath hitched as you heard a growl from the platform above, your head jolting back at the feeling of overwhelming hunger from Ammit returning tenfold. Your vision turned purple. The statue slipped out of your hand before you could stop it, shattering against the ground.

Black.

You blinked, looking around you, only to see an infinite space of nothingness. There was no sense of beginning or end, to know whether you were up or down within it. It was dark, but somehow well lit with soft green specks of light from some unknown source. It reminded you of the way light would shine on a raw crystal. Your breath quickened, your stomach dropping as you looked around for any possibility of an exit. Your panic was interrupted by a voice.

"Greetings." You whirled around to see a large figure standing behind you, a dark jackal-headed figure. He tilted his head as you observed him, taking in his presence from his winged headdress, his bandaged-wrapped body, to his tall staff. "There is no need for fear, I mean no harm to you." His voice was different than you had imagined, with a soft-spoken element to his deep vocals. He seemed... kind and you could sense he meant no harm.

You let out a breath. "Anubis."

"One of many names, yes, if that is the one you prefer to call me by." He circled you, taking in your appearance. "I believe I owe you my thanks for freeing me of my stone prison, even if unintentional, I have not been free for...quite a long time. I'm in your debt, little priest."

"Uh... you're welcome?" You looked around the white void. "Where am I? Why were you stuck in the statue?"

"Between worlds. A secret path." He took a breath, his hand tightening around his staff. "As for the circumstances of my imprisionment. That was due to Ammit's greed and hunger. She blamed me for her own actions of devouring souls before their time, feeding off their power. The other gods imprisioned me at her word. She took my place as judge. She has just been freed from her own aushabti, you could sense it, Seer. Time is be of the essence if she is to be stopped."

You nodded. "That... makes sense. Then what can I do to help defeat her?"

"You must bind her. And the only way to do that is channeling a god's power through a mortal." He pauses, humming thoughtfully. "It seems that Ammit has already gained a helper of her own. The circumstance is more dire now. I alone will not be able to help you. I have been imprissioned so long that my full power will take time to manifest. I may be able to assist but you will still require the help of other Avatars."

"Harrow." You spat. "Alright. Tell me what I need to do."

He turned to you, eyes flashing. "Become my vessel, my Avatar. I believe you are more than fitting for the role. After all, you've known of such things beyond your own reality for years now, have you not? Why not harness the abilities that come with it? You were made to be more, little Seer. I can help you understand your gift, use it. Ammit's hunger overwhelms your senses, clouds your mind. Allow me to help you resist it's fog."

You hesitated a moment. This was your way to defeat Amit, to help your friends. You knew what Marc had said. But it seemed like you could use all the help you could get.

"Why not let me repay my debt to you? Your scales are balanced, you wish for a better reality. Allow me help you assist those who cannot aid themselves. Will you join me, little priest? Will you swear to deal justice to the world? To inflict divine judgement to those worthy of it? To serve as healer, guide, and judge? Will you aid me in the quest to tip the scales of this universe back to balance?"

You looked at him, sensing the genuine kindness behind his offer. He was not filled with underlying rage or vengeance like you sensed from Khonshu. No, instead you felt his desire for a better world, a deep love of humans. Your gut said to take it. In some weird way, you felt like you were meant for this role, like you belonged in it.

"You have my word."

He smiled, resting a bandaged hand on your shoulder. "Then it is done. I have no doubt you will serve me well. But first, I believe you will do well to fulfill the role of psychopomp, though perhaps in reverse this time. Find your friends and escort them to the door, I will speak to Osiris on the matter of releasing them.

You furrowed your brows in confusion and opened your mouth to question him when you were suddenly jolted forward, finding yourself in a vast landscape of sand beneath your feet.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

All the great epics sent the hero through the underworld. Heracles, and Odysseus, both made their journey to Hades' realm. But at this moment, you were no hero, out of every traveler who made the quest you felt most in the place of Orpheus. Not here out of duty, or a desire for fame, but something far greater, to fetch your own Eurydice.

Or perhaps that was the hopeless romantic in you.

The sky of the Duat was dark, purple, and blue, interspersed with stars. You let out a breath of awe, spinning around only to notice the large doors behind you. The large pillars holding it up, are carved with the ruler of the dead. Something about this role... it felt right. Like you were meant for this. You felt an odd sense of belonging here.

You turned back around, setting off into the sand, determined to find your friends. You could feel them, the thrumming of their souls leading you further. As you peered ahead you noticed the two figures a few yards from you, each of them excitedly talking to the other. You smiled as you recognized their voices. One American accent, and one a very familiar British that made your heart flutter.

"Steven? Marc?!"

Steven's eyes widened as he let out a breath, turning to you. He uttered your name in disbelief. "H-How... I-I... Are you really here?"

"Yeah, I'm here." You whispered in your shock at the sight of them.

He surged forward, closing the yards between you, embracing you enthusiastically. Your breath hitched and you clung to him in return, eyes watering as you rested your head against his shoulder. He took a breath, "Gods, I didn't think I'd see you again! T-there's so much I wanted to-" He pulled back slightly. "What the hell are you wearing? I-I mean, you look bloody amazing, really cool, but uh..."

You furrowed your brows, "Huh?" You looked down at yourself, eyes widening as you took in the sight of black-wrapped bandages adorning your body, a deep blue cape fluttering behind you.

Marc spoke up, interrupting you. His brows were furrowed in his confusion over your appearance. "How did you get here?"

"Well. I, uh... may have accidentally freed Anubis. I'm his Avatar now! I-I can actually do something to help-" You paused as you felt another set of arms wraps around you, greeted by the unexpected sight of Marc now embracing you alongside Steven.

Gods above you wanted to melt.

"You really gotta stop dealing with gods for other people." The corner of his mouth quirked up, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. "You keep getting yourself into trouble faster than I can keep you out."

You smiled. "You say that as if the two of you aren't worth every bit of it. I'd have you know I wouldn't do this sort of thing for just anyone."

Steven smiled, breath hitching as he leaned against you. "Yeah? That's really... that's really nice of you." He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "You know... I-I always wanted to tell you I-"

"How's Layla?" Marc spoke up, pulling back slightly.

"Anubis sent me here to get the two of you back. You'll get to see for yourself. Come on, follow me." You smiled softly, turning as the two towering doors began to open. Steven jogged up next to your side, intertwining your fingers.

"Gods... I... I have so many questions now. What was Anubis like? Is he scary like Khonshu? What did-"

Marc interrupted him with a soft smile, his hand finding your other. "Steven. Later. Let's focus on getting out of here for now."

"R-right. Sorry it's just..." He let out a soft sigh, smiling as looking at you. Your stomach did a flip at the softness in his eyes. "Wow... I have to admit I'm a tad bit jealous."

You let out an amused snort as you led them to the door, each of your hands in theirs. As you stepped to the top of the stairs you paused, giving them a lopsided grin.

"I'll see you two in a bit." You let their hands go, looking at them fondly.

They approached the white light separating them from life. Steven stopped Marc with a tug of his sleeve, looking at him, seemingly conveying some unspoken agreement as Marc nodded. He clapped Steven on the back, a grin on his face. "Go get em'. You've taken long enough."

Steven hesitated, turning to you and letting out your name in a breath. He stood in front of you, fidgeting with the sleeves pulled over his hands. "I-I..." He let out a nervous laugh as he ran a hand through his hair. "I..." He cursed, seemingly frustrated with himself. "Oh, to hell with it."

You furrowed your brows, puzzled. "Steven? What are you- Mmmh!"

Your eyes widened and any question you would have asked died on your lips.

Steven surged forward, his lips crashing against yours, his hands gently cupping the sides of your face, holding you tenderly. As if you would fall apart like precious porcelain. Your breath hitched and your eyes fluttered closed as you melted into the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a sense of urgency and adoration, seemingly wanting you as close as possible. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and your fingers tangled into the back of his hair, pulling him against you.

A cough sounded from nearby. The two of you pulled away panting, faces flushed. You turned back to see Marc waiting expectantly, a glint in his eyes. "As cute as it is to see you two actually bing direct for once instead of dancing around your feelings, we got to go. The fate of the world is hanging in the balance here."

Oh. Yeah. You almost forgot.

Steven stammered, a bright blush coating his cheeks. "R-right. Yeah, I... I-I should go..." He looked from you to Marc, hesitating a moment before planting a final, soft, tender kiss on your lips. He flashed you a lopsided smile, "Laters gators."

"In a while, Crocodile." You smiled back, feeling like you were walking on clouds, your heart light.

Steven stepped through the light. Marc hesitated a moment.

He turned to you, letting out a breath. "Look, I know I've been... hard on you... but I want you to know you're not a burden. Not to me. Not to Layla. And sure as hell not to Steven."

You couldn't help but smile shyly. "Yeah, I think I picked up on that last one."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah. I... Look, I was trying to keep you out of this, keep you away from all the shit I had to put up with Khonshu. To protect you, keep you out of trouble. Steven would have killed me if I let you get hurt. I couldn't do that to him. He couldn't lose you. I couldn't lose you."

You blinked a few times. Were... were you hearing him right?

He paused a moment, looking at you softly, an unexpected tenderness in his gaze. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, stepping forward to plant a kiss on your lips.

He pulled away before you could decide to reciprocate, his hands running along your arms, intertwining your fingers as his face stayed inches away from yours. He spoke softly. "Thank you... For taking care of Steven, for being there for him throughout everything. He needed that. More than you could know. You're the best thing he's got.”

The corner of your mouth twitched up. You let out a breath. "You do realize that it's not just for Steven, not anymore, right?"

He smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, letting out an amused breath. "Mm, I'm getting it now. You really are trying to get into trouble now" He grinned, squeezing your hand. "I'll see you in a bit.

You returned his smile, cheeks still burning as he walked into the light.

A large smile stretched across your face, a hand going up to touch your lips. You giggled savoring the tingling feeling as you replayed the last few moments of their lips on yours. You grinned, pumping a fist in the air with an elated laugh. "Yes!"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You sat up with a start, gasping for air to see Layla kneeling over you. The purple clouding your vision was gone.

"Jesus!" She jumped. "What the hell was that? I thought you said you were fine."

"I am! Long story short is that we've got another god on our side. Anubis wants Ammit stopped but we need more than one avatar to do it." You stood up, brushing the dust off your pants. "Also Marc says hi. He's on his way."

Layla nodded, letting out a breath. "Yeah, okay. Lets go find some."

The two of you silently rushed off to the center chamber and met with one of the avatars before dragging himself up. Layla grabbed him, helping prop him up as you slipped his arm over your shoulder as he gurgled.

"Are you the ones who released Khonshu?

"Yes." She panted as you helped her prop him up against the wall. "Hey! Hey, hey. Hey. How do we stop Ammit?"

The man answered in a deeper, guttural voice that was not his own. You shivered. "This chamber is our most powerful place. From here, we need to impression Ammit in a mortal form."

The man groaned and Layla nodded. "A body instead of a statue. She'd be vulnerable. Okay, how do we do it?"

He gurgled again. "We need more Avatars than we have left-" He slumped to the ground and you cursed. You felt his soul rise from his body and fade.

"Layla..." You started softly, knowing she wouldn't like your idea.

"I know." She sighs. "Taweret, are you there?"

The body shifted, calling her name in an excited shrill. "I'm so excited! We're going to do great things together." You flinched the two of you. turning to see Harrow and a few of his followers heading in your direction.

"Shit.' You grabbed her hand and headed down a dark passage. A purple blast hit and you pushed her onward. The familiar feeling of Taweret's presence intensifies.

Layla groaned, her head jerking back as Taweret's voice projected through her lips. "Oh, you've changed your mind."

You stopped, watching your friend's sudden change in demeanor as your eyes flicked to the crumbling tunnel. "Guys..."

"I would be delighted to accept you as my Avatar." Taweret theatrically waved Layla's hand before she slumped against the wall, panting. "Okay, okay. Temporary Avatar."

She straightened back up suddenly, speaking again in Taweret's high-pitched voice. "Yes, of course!" While Taweret's presence was undoubtedly friendly you had to admit to yourself that this display was... unnerving but not the weirdest thing you've seen. "Oh, your father is going to be over the moon when he hears."

"Guys can we hurry this up?" you felt a sick feeling in your stomach as you felt the familiar sensation of souls being ripped from bodies in the distance. Ammit was feeding again, and not just a little but this time.

"Oh hush, little Seer! You can't rush things. Oh, I have a fabulous costume in mind."

There was a crunch and the rocks above you fell. You braced for impact.

White.

You blinked to see yourself in the same black bandages as before, something now on your face. You shifted, feeling the strain of holding something, breath hitching as you realized you were holding up the collapsing rubble above you. "Holy fuck..."

You saw a glint of gold as Layla kicked down a large chunk of stone, light flooding the ruined tunnel. You tossed the rubble off your shoulders, taking in her new outfit. "You look..." Your heart fluttered as she reached behind her to retrieve two swords, only to pull out a pair of metal wings. Curse your weakness for women in armor. "Oh, that's fucking awesome."

She smiled at you as she looked you over, "Yeah? I could say the same for you. Really sticking with the whole 'I see dead people' theme I see." Her finger traced over the ankh on your chest. You shivered, leaning forward slightly.

You let out an amused snort. "Can I... uh..." You looked at her a moment, eyes flicking to her lips. A light blush coated your cheeks, a nervous but hopeful smile spreading across your lips. "Just for good luck, y'know?"

She let out a soft laugh, leaning forward to brush her lips against yours. "That was cheesy."

You hummed into the kiss, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered closed. "Yeah. I know. But it worked didn't it?"

She laughs, an arm snaking around your neck as her other pulled your mask up away from your face. "It did." Her fingers tangled in your hair as she pulled you forward into a kiss. You sighed into the kiss.

Finally.

She pulled away, smiling as her eyes flicked over your face. "Happy now?"

"Oh, very." You reached back to pull out a pair of scythes from your back. "Ready?"

You spotted Anubis in the corner, a small smile on his lips. He nodded.

You sliced the empty air before you with the scythes, ripping a pocket into the fabric of reality.

She grinned, ready to take off.

"Ready."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The two of you emerged a second later amid the city, purple balls of light rose in the sky. You frowned as you took in the amount of souls being harvested. You knew this was going to be hard, but things were looking worse by the second.

A streak of white caught your eye. You watched as Harrow hit Marc with the staff before charging it up again. A sickly shade of purple emanated from the head of the staff.

"Quick there!" You pointed. She took off, metal wings spread as she flew forward, kicking Harrow off him. You followed behind her, mask off as you looked at Marc.

He stirred, letting your names fall past his lips. You grinned. "Long time no see."

Harrow waved his staff, another beam of purple shooting from the head, Layla folded the wings around her, shielding the two of you. You ducked to the side, Anubis guiding your throw as you tossed one of the scythes behind him, the weapon slicing a tear in space that he stumbled back into. The scythe spun, returning to your hand as he fell from the second resulting tear, dropping him hard against the ground.

"Layla!"

"Marc." The couple stood, embracing each other happily. You smiled.

"Thank god your okay." Marc panted, taking her face in his hands.

"How did you get back?" She asks."

Marc looked at you, flashing you a smile. "Had some help from our partner here."

You returned the smile, heart fluttering.

Partner? Oh, you liked that.

Marc's suit shifted, and Steven made his entrance. He looked over at Layla. "Wow, you look amazing. What are you wearing?"

She let out an amused snort. Steven looked at you, the same soft smile spreading across his face. "Hiya."

"Hi." you let out a breath. It took all your willpower not to pull him in for another kiss right there. Instead, movement to your right caught your eye.

Harrow stood up, his followers, joining him.

"I'm really jazzed about showing you these new skillsets we have." Steven beamed, the mask covering his face again as he looked between the two of you.

"All right, show me what you got." Layla nodded, a soft grin spreading across her face.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You smiled as the three of you took off. The advice and guidance of your patron deity echo in the back of your head.

Slash there. Step here. Duck. Thrust. Turn.

It was a weird feeling to be turned into something other than yourself. Almost as if you were being guided through a dance by some unseen force. You closed your eyes, letting out a breath that seemed to echo.

Things felt like they slowed down as you spun. You could feel so much at once. Metal clanked around you. People shouted. Footsteps thudded. You could still see. In your mind's eye was a clear image of the scene around you, vivid, bright, and clear as the people moved around you. You could see their souls, and count the exact number of people near you, whether their scales were balanced or not within them.

Pull.

You hooked your scythes around someone from behind, effortlessly pulling him over you to crash on the ground before your feet. He grunted in pain. Unbalanced.

You raised a hand, gesturing as you guided his soul to the underworld.

You grouped your two weapons parallel to each other, one on top of the other, opening your eyes as you watched them form into a staff. Another person ran at you. You ducked, swinging your staff at their legs, tripping them with your weapon. Predictably they did, and you knocked them out with the butt of your scythe. Balanced.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Out of the corners of your eyes, you could see your partners fighting their opponents. Marc scent a flying crescent at a follower getting ready to shoot at you before his suit shifted again. You sent a smile his way, kicking the man in the stomach. He doubled over and you placed a palm over his head, forcing his consciousness to fade.

You ducked as Layla flew over you, standing with her back against yours. "You're good at this."

She grinned. "I know. Weird isn't it? Suddenly knowing how to do these things."

"Very." You dodged another punch, pulling the attacker down to the ground by his arm.

Eventually, the three of you made it to Harrow. Your staff crashed against his own, with a clank. You pushed forward, arms shaking with the effort, his jaw clenched as you held him back. You looked him dead in the eye, rage boiling in your chest.

"You'll pay the price for playing the part of a god." You seethed, arms aching as you pushed your staff forward.

He responded with a growl, matching your sudden push against his staff against your own. "What makes you think I was playing." The purple energy glowed again from his staff. Your eyes widened and before you could deflect the blast he maneuvered his staff, sending a beam of energy against your chest. You flew backward, rolling as you hit the ground with a groan. You stood up, cracking your neck and rotating your shoulders.

"Alright. Let's get this overwith. The trip was fun and all, but I'm a bit tired of this."

Marc let out a laugh. "You and me both."

Eventually, the three of you surrounded Harrow, sending stabs and slices his way. He managed to parry the attacks with his staff. Marc began to gain the upper hand, forcing him back with repeated attacks. Harrow responded in turn by plunging his staff down, sending a wave of purple energy radiating from it. You were forced back again, this time your scythes digging into the asphalt like butter to halt you.

You scrambled up as you saw Harrow corner Layla on a car and let out a curse. That alerted Steven who charged at him, sending him crashing into a nearby wall. A few hits were exchanged before Harrow caught his leg mid-kick, sending him flying through brick, a plume of dust rising.

Your eyes widened and you sent your scythes through the air, pinning his arms in their curve as the blades embedded in the brick behind him. Marc charged, landing a kick to his torso, allowing Layla to attempt to claim his staff, prying it from his hands. Harrow manages to slip out, the three of you scrambling to either grab his hands or take the staff.

A hum echoed through the weapon and it shot a blast of energy at a nearby van. Your breath caught in your throat and you looked to Layla who went after the passengers, ripping a door off to use as a shield. With a nod from Marc, you went to help her, a band of his followers crowding around her, guns firing.

As you dodged and hit you saw a flashing purple light, Marc and Harrow battling for the staff still.

You let out a grunt as someone landed a hit to your side, making you retaliate, sending them backward across the street.

Another flash of light and Harrow had Marc's weapon at his own throat. You started forward only to watch the weapon fly toward you, pass, and pin Layla's hand to the car.

You looked between them, unsure of who to aid first. You winced as another flash of purple sent Marc to the ground, Layla pulling you to her with her free hand, shielding you with her wing.

She lowered it, eyes wide as she looked at you.

Your eyes were on Marc.

He wasn't getting up.

Time slowed down. In the distance you caught sight of Ammit and Khonshu, his staff being used to take him to the ground, shaking the earth as Harrow stalked forward. From the top of a building, you caught sight of Anubis. He nodded. You knew what you had to do. You just had to get there.

Dirt kicked up behind your heels as you ran towards Marc.

Harrow raised his staff.

You weren't going to make it.

Harrow brought his staff down on Marc's chest, making him let out a guttural groan of pain as the purple glow overwhelmed him.

You reached out a hand.

Pain.

You let out a cry as you felt a sharp pain in your shoulder. Then warmth. You stumbled back, tripping over your feet.

Shit.

You felt something fly above you, gargling following as the shooter dropped to his knees, clutching a golden crescent.

You looked up to see...Marc? His suit was different. Darker. He had gotten up, sending a few of his weapons out into the masses of Harrow's followers with eery precision, each hitting their mark. He yanked Harrow's staff from the man's hand. A kick to the cult leader's feet brought him to his knees before he had time to react. He sent a punch to Harrow's face, knocking him out.

You glanced back at Layla, her eyes as wide as yours.

When you looked back to Marc he was standing up, his suit now back to normal as he surveyed the scene around him. Layla pulls herself free.

"Marc?"

He let out a breath.

"What the hell was that?"

You stood up, brushing yourself off as you joined him.

"I blacked out."

You blinked. Before you could respond you heard a thump as Khonshu's body was grabbed by Ammit, dragging him away. Your heart sank.

You looked to Anubis, eyes wide, tensing as you prepared to run.

"No, you stay, little Seer. I shall go try and assist my friend to the best of my abilities." He disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Layla turned to the two of you. "I know how to stop Ammit. Get Harrow. We need to get back to the chamber" She grabbed his now broken staff, and Marc grabbed Harrow. You slashed the empty air before you, creating a bridge to the dark room.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

"The power of the room will help us bind Ammit to Harrow's body." Layla stepped first into the room, followed by Marc. You cut through the tear behind you, closing it. Marc lay Harrow on top of some rubble."Quick, grab my hand so we can start the spell."

You nodded at her, sliding your hand into hers, an action that had become familiar throughout the trip. Marc took her other hand. Your body jolted forward as words filled your mind. Old, ancient sounds, that you had never heard before streamed from your lips, joining the echo of your partners' voices. A purple light extended from Marc's hand, passing through each nearby statue of a deity.

The light encircled Harrow and you continued to speak in a tongue that you did not know, driven by the whisperings of your patron.

Harrow's eyes shot open as the purple light funneled into his mouth, answering in Ammit's voice. "You can never contain me. I'll never stop!" The light faded and you dropped to your knees, chest heaving and shoulder aching.

You felt two pairs of bandaged hands on your back. The same cold-tingling feeling overtook your shoulder, the wound slowly healing from both your patron's touch.

"Finish it." The familiar voice of Khonshu echoed in the chamber. "And leave neither of them alive."

Marc stood, grabbing the crescent from his chest and holding it as he prepared to strike the final blow.

"While he lives, so too does she."

You looked to Anubis. "It would be a fitting end. A fair punishment for the lives taken in her name." You wanted to agree. You wanted to see this man dead for everything he did. But it didn't settle well with you. You thought back to the man you shot when retrieving the map, the sick feeling that settled in your stomach. No, this wasn't right. Not like this.

"I have to finish this. If not, I'll never be free." You heard Marc say in return to his patron, seemingly more to himself.

You rushed over and grabbed his wrist as Layla spoke up.

"Marc! You have a choice. You are free."

"The choice is vengeance! We cannot take the chance that Ammit finds a way out. She will kill again."

"It would be serving justice that is long overdue, little Seer. An eye for an eye. A life for a life."

You shook your head. "Justice perhaps. But would we not be stooping to the same level? A killer kills a killer?"

Marc looks up at Khonshu. "Now you sound just like her."

He lets go of Harrow, dropping his weapon. "You want him dead... do it yourself."

He glares at Khonshu. "Now release us."

Ao3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

#moon knight fanfic #moon boys #marc spector #marvel #steven grant x gender neutral reader #steven grant fic #steven grant x reader #jake lockley #layla el faouly #khonshu x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight fic #TippingTheScales #TTS

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wisteriaiswriting · 3 months

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Hi!! I saw that your request were open so I wanted to request something!

Imagine reaper had a daughter with his (ex???) wife before he died / disappeared, she knew him as a hero and always admired him etc. so his daughter joined overwatch after a few years now that she was older and wanted to follow her dad’s steps (obviously not knowing the behind scenes of his job) but in a mission reaper sees her and is not capable of doing his job because he recognizes his little girl

I had an oc that was reapers daughter but saw a post about widowmaker with a child and I NEEDED someone to write one for reaper— THANK YOU, take your time and take care <333

𝔽𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕪 𝔹𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤

Words: 576

Also wording reader as his child, as I don't do female readers!

“Told you she would grow on you Gabe.”

“What.” He didn’t understand what Ana meant. If anything it was about Pharah, but if anything she grew on him years ago, not that he would admit it. She only sighed and shook her head, pointing behind him.

Finding his wife, Martina. Her hands were cupped around something that she held to her chest, slowly opening them. In her hands sat a pregnancy test. He only stared, so she rightfully got worried.

“Really?” She nodded. Instantly he rushed over to her, lifting her into his arms. He was never good at words, but his actions made up for it.

***

The months passed before you and your brother were born.While he took after her you were a mix of both. He became a mummy's boy, so Gabriel made sure you were a daddy’s kid. And with the amount of overwatch posters and apparel around it would’ve been surprising if you weren’t.

What was even more surprising was that he just didn’t return. None of the family realized until Jack, also known as Soldier 76, alerted you. But that wouldn’t do much when there was no trace of where he went.

So the next few decades you had to grow up without him present, with the closet being all the posters still hanging. Although they were quickly removed and hidden. It didn’t stop you from following his footsteps even as your mother testified.

It would be dangerous, even life risking. But you were willing to take that risk, after all your father did.

***

Arms wrapped around your waist and hauled you into the air, although it wasn’t hard to figure out it was. The massive muscles revealed it as Reinhardt, then came his voice, yelling even though he was right behind you.

“Look at you, finally grown up!” Suddenly his arms were gone but you weren’t on the ground. Instead he had thrown you into the air, making sure you safely land and stay on his shoulder.

“ANA!” There he went, bringing you along to show off that you were back, now to work.

***

Even if you just joined you were much more prepared than other recruits. Likely from the fact you had been training all your life with Ana, Jack and sometimes Reinhardt, who never wanted to hurt you during so.

So that came in handy very quickly. As you were selected for a mission, going with other official overwatch members. Ana, Brigitte, Genji, Cassidy and D.Va. Flown across the world to your location, Busan in South Korea.

It was a simple recon mission. Get in, find the needed information then leave. But you guys were never going to do it alone. Talon hiding in the shadows, keeping track of their own information.

Reaper had made his way around and behind your team, able to follow the familiar voices.

“Genji!”

“McCree!” Of course he would run into those two. Thinking his time with them was long but over, apparently not. Stepping out closer to watch the commotion, not expecting another familiar sight.

“McCree, don’t step any closer.”

“And why is that?”

“You don’t want to piss off Reyes do you?” Following his words you walked into their sights. Ultimately making McCree back off, not before complaining.

“Reyes won't be able to keep you safe forever.”

Even with Gabriel out of your life you were much more similar than you realized. And hopefully you didn’t become too close.

#overwatch x reader #overwatch x male reader #overwatch reaper #overwatch reaper x reader #reaper x reader #wisteria♥

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abibliophobiaa · 2 years

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For a request first date w Peter in a carnival where u mention wanting a giant teddy bear from those scam games since u were a kid but never getting one, so he uses his spidey powers and gets it for u. Maybe super flirty nd sarcastic?? Pretty please and thank you!! I also have been thinking abt another love for the last two weeks of my life thank u for writing that masterpiece

ahh, thank you for your kindness!! this was the sweetest request. here’s 2k of carnival fluff. 🎡 fem!reader.

You’re a breath of fresh air. All springy in your steps as the two of you traipse through the streets of the Staten Island Mall Carnival. The lights of carnival lights casting you in a pink and blue glow. Twinkling fairy lights drape around the center walkway, kissing the sky above the two of you like tiny little stars.

You seem to draw those to you as well—the sky full of them on that summer day.

Peter almost snorts in disbelief of his current situation. It’s been so long, after all.

And then looks over to see you in your converse with a pretty summer dress on, smile on your face, and cotton candy in hand. Realizes he’s smitten and accepts it for what it is.

Something new in bloom.

Feelings…he’s not sure he’s felt in a bit. That is, if you’re feeling the same as him. Which he’s inclined to believe, as the two of you hadn’t wanted to part after a great dinner together at a local Italian restaurant and decided to do something else after.

You’d practically ripped his arm out of socket as the two of you drove and spotted the ferris wheel overtop the whole carnival scene.

Which is how the two of you end up stopping at a funnel cake truck and requesting an order to share between the two of you. Peter watches as you discard your cotton candy into the nearby trash can and plop down beside him.

“You have grabby hands,” Peter teases.

“I do not, ” you admonish.

“You’re making pinching motions with your hands like you’re a crab or something—”

“I can’t get passionate about the sugary delight that is funnel cake?”

Smirking, Peter reaches forward and plucks a piece. Places it in the center of his tongue and sighs at the assault on his tastebuds. In his momentary distraction you do the same, only he feels his chest tighten at the splendid moan you let out thanks to your fried, doughy goodness.

“You are a menace,” he says.

Your brow raises archly. “Admit it, Parker, you think I’m cute.”

He taps his finger against his chin for a moment. Tilts his head up to the sky in dramatic thought. You watch him with rapt attention, your kind eyes boring into his face.

To be fair, ‘cute’ is not the word he would use to describe the girl who bumped into him walking out of the cafe that day.

No, even with you covered in multiple ice coffees and sugary syrups, he still felt something twist in his chest that day. The way you jumped up and asked if he was okay, as if your hair wasn’t wet at the tips and there wasn’t rock residue from the concrete floor sticking into the heels of your palms.

He had asked the barista at the coffee shop if he could borrow a first aid kit and frowned at the pinched look on your face once he led you inside the bathroom and helped disinfect your cuts.

Once bandaged, you had held up your hands and sighed out, “I look like a mummy. But…uh, if you’re up to it—would you want to grab dinner sometime? I just figure it’s not every day I quite literally bump into a man and because today is not a typical day my behavior is not typical for my personal—”

“I’d love to.”

So…no. ‘Cute’ is not the word he’d use. Because sitting beside him on that bench, with sugar powder clinging to your cheek, he thinks you’re beautiful. Ethereal. Out of this world.

“There’s nothing to admit when it’s the truth,” he says, and your returning smile is a reward enough if only he can have more of them in the time to come.

The two of you settle back into comfortable conversation as the sky continues to darken above you two and the neon lights become brighter. You walk in tandem with one another, stopping to comment on the stands around the carnival’s exterior before something catches your eye.

“I’ve always wanted to do this.” You grip his hand tightly in your own.

He turns his head to see the slightly dilapidated photo booth sequestered away in the corner of the carnival. It has a glowing red sign above it which says exactly what it is, though one of ‘o’ letters flickers obnoxiously in the night.

He tilts his head to the side. “Take pictures? Your instagram had a million of them.”

You shove him lightly. “Oh, hush, Parker. Should I remind you of the fact you liked one from two years ago and then unliked it?” At his red cheeks, you continue, “I saw the notification, though. I thought it was sweet.”

He waves his hands in the air between you, before rubbing a hand down the back of his neck. “I kid, I kid. What have you always wanted to do?”

You wiggle your brows suggestively at him. “Make out with someone in a photo booth, silly!”

He splutters. “W-what?”

“Kidding! You should see your face; it’s bright red.”

He smooths a palm down one of those cheeks in question, chuckling nervously. “Yeah, yeah. How do we do this now?”

You take the initiative to lead him inside, the warmth of your palm in his a feeling he wants to know more of. That welcoming nature about you he’s already growing more and more enamored with as the night proceeds.

The bench is small. Likely meant for children, Peter thinks. So he settles down on the far edge, but grunts in his shock as you settle down on his lap. He immediately moves to curl a palm around the curve of your hip to keep you there.

“This good?” He asks.

Your eyes drop to his lip for a second. You bite your lip. “Uh…great.”

He notices the hitch in your breath. The steady pounding of your heart in you chest. Becomes hyper aware of the floral perfume clinging to your neck which is now only inches from his mouth and mouthwateringly kissable.

“Now what?”

“Money goes in. And then it should start counting down for each photo. Okay—serious one first. No—still smile, Peter.”

He settles into a smile beside you. The camera flashes.

“Okay, what’s next?”

“Goofy one.” You say the words and immediately scrunch your nose.

He’s pretty sure he’s caught mid blink as the camera flashes once more.

“And then?” He asks.

“Uh…I don’t know. Uh, we have five seconds—”

Peter thinks about it for a moment. Pauses. Glances down at your face.

Four…

Feels his head spin as his eyes drop to your lips again. The tip of his tongue draws a line against his bottom lip.

Three…

Light from the carnival seeping into the booth flashes across your eyes. Full of want and excitement.

Two…

The grip on your hip tightens. He draws you in closer.

One…

He’s kissing you and he’s not prepared for what it’s like. All novel and winsome. Exciting. Joy unfurling in the pit of his belly and spreading like a wildfire. It’s saccharine sweet and addictive.

A smile splits your features. Eyes wide and bright. Lips plump in the evidence of his perusal. “You kissed me!”

“I did.”

And then he’s closing the space between you again and giving you the attention you deserve. Sweet passages of breath across the small space. A soft peal of a sigh coaxing from your lips as his fingers reach up to card through the length of your hair.

He knows it’s maybe a little too hopeful of him, but there’s a certainty that this will not be enough. That he’s an explorer set out on a new journey and has only just made an initial finding. This sort of thing—kissing you and knowing you—requires time.

And all his attention.

You part with a breathy sigh, a smirk lining those tantalizing lips. “What happened to not wanting to make out in a photo booth?”

“I never said that. I very much wanted to do exactly that all afternoon.”

“Well…good. I’m glad.” He exhales softly as your forehead leans in and presses against his. A soft touch of intimacy.

“I’m glad you’re glad. Now let’s go, so I can whoop your butt in some games.”

“Oh no you don’t, Peter Parker. We will see about that one.”

Turns out you’re not good at carnival games. But then again, Peter’s sure they’re set up in a way so no one wins. The obscenely large stuffed animals dangling from the wall are only there to taunt you. Far enough away where they’re always out of reach. And he sees your frustration of that realization in the way your brows furrow after losing another round of ring toss.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl?” Peter teases, earning a light shove as you move to stand in front of him.

His chest settles at your back as his arms come to twine around your waist, swaying you back and forth to the music blaring from the speakers above.

“Don’t make fun,” you start.

“I wouldn’t.”

You sigh. “Ever since I was a kid I’ve wanted to just win one of these stupid stuffed animals one time. You know? Think of it as…a rite of passage—”

“Not quite what I would classify as a rite of passage—”

You level him with a mock glare. “You said you wouldn’t make fun!”

“I’m not, I’m not. Go on.” His palm smooths along your stomach, the heat of you making him warm from head to toe.

“I just want to win one time. That’s all.”

“Alright, let me buy you another game ticket.”

He does so as the bored teenager at the ring toss booth clicks away mindlessly at her phone. Teeth smacking a piece of gum noisily as you get into position beside Peter. He watches as you begin to toss ring after ring toward the bottles, the sound of them clattering to the floor jarring.

Peter has a split second. With the carnival worker not paying attention he can do something.

Anything, just to make your face light up. So he grips the base of your chin and kisses you slowly, threading his one palm around your cheek as he slides his web shooter toward the edge of his shirt just a bit. Had brought his suit just in case things went awry on your date night and he needed to leave early.

“What are you—”

“Try to throw it now. Read it somewhere that sometimes a distraction can ease nerves. Worth a shot, right?”

A blatant white lie. But you’re leaning in once again and tossing the ring toward the bottles. A quick twack of webbing shoots from his wrist and rights the ring on the bottle, earning an excited yelp from you as you turn to realize you have finally bested the game.

Your smile is megawatt as the booth patron asks which gargantuan animal you want and you ask for the largest teddy bear you can muster. And it’s so bright, Peter doesn’t even argue as you press it against his chest and take a picture of your date with his arms full of fluff.

Nor does he complain as the two of you settle it down beside you on the Ferris wheel and watch the world below you grow smaller and smaller. His fingers intertwine with your own, toying with your palm in your lap as your head tilts to the sky.

Fireworks explode across the summer sky. Purples and blues. Yellows and reds. Cottony pinks and rosy reds. Peter’s sure he’s never seen a sight so perfect, and the fireworks display pales in comparison to you. You turn to look at him and his heart leaps in his chest. Firelight dancing in your eyes as you kiss him once more. This time soft and teasing. Explorative. Patient.

He wants so many more of these. So many more stolen moments in the gift of your presence.

“What are you doing next weekend?” He asks.

And just like the fireworks up above, you glow for him.

#my writing #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x you #peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm fanfiction #peter parker x reader fluff

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backjustforberena · 7 months

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Question: Laena as daddy’s girl and laenor as Mummy’s boy. Do you think they had this family structure? Why/why not?

Scenarios: Rhaenys teaching them how to fly like a badass. Eg. the importance of a strong bond, modifications to the saddle, not flying too high.

Swimming with them as young children in the bay on a hot day.

THIS GOT LONG, I'M SORRY.

META: Oh, boy, thank you for sending this in! And the answer to the first one, about dynamics is: certainly yes. Although, ironically and perhaps obviously given the world they inhabit, they spend more time with the other parent. Laenor spends years with his father in the Stepstones and on the flip side, Laena has a lot of time alone with her mother whilst the men are away.

I remember listening to interviews where Eve would say that Corlys was harder on Laenor than Rhaenys perhaps was, and Steve called Laena "the apple of his eye", and how family and legacy were everything to these two.

Rhaenys's connection to her children is a lot more emotional and typically maternal: it's worrying over their happiness, it's making sure that parameters will be in place if Laena weds Viserys (i.e what Laena says about being bedded), it's wishing Laena home from Pentos, watching her son dance at his betrothal with a smile on her face, hugging him before giving him away, having her heart torn by their misery.

Corlys's relationship is more typically masculine. He wants to provide for them; safety and security and power. Making them good marriages, wanting them to conform to society's expectations because that is what will get them ahead, that will be less painful. He wants his children to be the best of the best. He's got high standards, but never anything that suggests it's crushing or detrimental.

Laena, in particular, sounds a lot like her father when she grows up - talking about Valyrian blood and being more than the existence Daemon binds her to in Pentos. She wants to go home and give birth and have her children raised as Velaryon children are raised. She yearns for her family. She still sent letters to her mother, after all. Letters where she hid nothing - how else did Rhaenys know Laena wanted to return home? But Laena is also a dragon-rider, like her mother. Claimed a dragon, like her mother. Married a man for love, like her mother. Yet she travelled like her father did, and wore her father's house colours after marriage, (except when riding - like her mother).

Laenor is everything a lord would wish for in a son. Most characters note on his goodness. How he is a fine knight. He's battle-tested, with a strong bond with his dragon. He's kind and loves war as his father does. He yearns for the sea and for battle, like his father. He's got armour, like his father, participates in the strategy of the Stepstones and is trusted enough that Corlys goes with his plan. Between young and teen Laenor, he even starts doing his locs like his father. His saddle has a seahorse on it. Yet he's incredibly sensitive, and loves with his whole heart. When his loved one is murdered, he screams - like his mother. When his sister is dead, he dies a little bit with her. He chafes at court because it hurts him, like Rhaenys does. And he goes through great tragedy that was not of his own making.

But as much as I think the parents have "favourites", you don't get the feeling that it's overtly biased, in the way they parent or the way they relate to one another - they don't favour one child over the other. Although, we have very little to base that conclusion on, given that horrifically, we have very few scenes of them as a family unit and they barely speak a word to one another. Except, perhaps in deleted scenes. Overall, to me, the Velaryons came across as a very harmonious family. Neither parent is distant - they're both involved in the decisions that surround their children and always think (albeit perhaps not enough or even correctly) about their well-being and their futures. To the point that it's really the only thing that severs their marriage. Both of the siblings, after marriage, look back to their parents and to things that signify their house - there's no resentment from Laenor for making him marry Rhaenyra. There's no distance created from Laena, knowing they had proposed her match to Viserys. No effect at all. They take comfort in one another. They can't have a family outing without matching either.

SCENARIOS: Rhaenys teaching them how to fly would be amazing. Even in the one scene we have of Laenor and Rhaenys flying together, Meleys gives out instructions to Seasmoke and takes the lead over the fleet. It's very cute. And I can imagine Driftmark has it's own dragonkeepers, but Rhaenys would still take a proactive role in this. I can only imagine how empty the skies felt when her children had flown the nest. And I imagine this sort of lesson is something she now recreates with Baela.

And those kids must swim like fishes. Wild swimming as well. I bet Laenor would do a cannonball and Laena learnt to do an impressively graceful dive into the water.

#house of the dragon #rhaenys targaryen #corlys velaryon #laena velaryon #laenor velaryon #bad meta #<- ironic tag

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ouranbutworse · 21 days

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Anime-Manga Comparisons, episode 21.

Going back one volume for the test of courage episode, and then going back five more volumes for the halloween theme. The deeper I go into this series, the more research I have to do. What a pain.

Kaoru’s carriage theory and bizarre pumpkin obsession (he even has a pencil topper!) is another anime exclusive, so while he rambles on about that in the anime, the manga has him thinking about the broader concept of their found family and Tamaki being obviously in love with Haruhi. He then immediately stops thinking about that and returns to paying attention to Kazukiyo Souga, who is setting up the plot. In the anime the test of courage is set for Halloween, but the manga is (vaguely) more linear with the flow of time, so is set for the first day of their second semester. Haruhi is still sat between the twins in both, and gives Kazukiyo an adorably vacant stare when he tries to urge her to vote against the test of courage, because she’s not very good at visual hints. In the manga it’s a unanimous vote already made by the class, but in the anime Renge pipes up and has an entire scene to herself praising Halloween and cosplaying. Nobody is impressed by her, but I am. Kazukiyo tells her to get down off the desk and she ignores him to suggest the test of courage. The twins are suddenly very impressed by her after all. In the manga Renge stays put in the background and squees about how she loves being scared and that Haruhi will protect her.

Next in the anime, we see the rest of the hosts as vampires! I suppose I can’t deny the inherent sexiness of sharp fangs, but having them all be vampires is a little… plain, isn’t it? For comparison, the manga had Tamaki as a vampire, but the twins as angels, Kyoya as a priest, Honey as a cat, Mori as a dog, and Haruhi as a witch. Renge’s costume is the same, though. We also met Kuragano in this manga episode!

Back to the anime hosts, Tamaki comes up as a speech bubble and Honey has to adorably poke his head up from under it to join in the conversation. I swear, every time I watch this show I see something new! The twins announce they and Haru can’t attend the club, and when Kyoya kindly allows them to skip, they do. It’s so obvious who’s in charge, and it’s not their king. Tamaki’s protectiveness doesn’t come into play in the manga courage episode, but it does happen in the manga halloween episode when he reveals he’s been sneaking candies into Haruhi’s blazer so she wouldn’t get caught empty handed when they trick or treated her. And by sneaking, I mean he ran up to her the previous day and literally threw a load of candies at her. How thoughtful. He then immediately gets distracted by some club customers and runs off with them.

We also meet Kazukiyo here, but he’s left unnamed and only called ‘chairman’, same design, though. They have a brief conversation about the witch in the clocktower.

Tamaki’s mind theatre is an anime exclusive, as he imagines Haruhi being scared by a terrible looking mummy and a medusa Renge and hugging the twins for safety. Tamaki whines about how it’s improper for her, and Haruhi thinks it’s good for the class camaraderie, which shows how far she’s come from episode 1! Tamaki calls it trampy, but Kaoru is busy thinking about that damn carriage again. Then they bid adieu, and Nekozawa appears from a coffin. How long was he in there?! He offers to scare the first years silly, at least.

Back in their classroom, the 1-A trio, plus Renge and Kuragano, talk logistics of their courage test, about budget, and even having a doctor on standby in case of fainting, how sweet! While Haruhi listens in, Kazukiyo motions for her to go out into the hallway to talk, and he reveals his nyctophobia. These scenes happen the same in both, though in the manga he also talks about being freaked out just seeing scary movies at the rental place, and Haruhi is surprised he rents movies, being rich and all. The twins overhear in both, though in the manga they also scare him with one of those wiggly snake toys. (a stim toy?) As well as lying to the rest of the class about him, saying he’s an occult maniac just to hype them all up. He’s not very pleased about it. Nekozawa and the black magic club find out about the test, and plot to give them a summer they’ll never forget. We also see Reiko here before her debut in volume ten!

For Halloween evening, we see a knockoff of that freaky moon from Soul Eater rising in the sky, and some establishing shots of the grounds and hallways covered in pumpkins. Was Kaoru given free reign to decorate the entire school or something?

Speaking of pumpkins, in the manga halloween episode, we get a segment on Haruhi and some of the girls in her class in the kitchen as they make pumpkin pie and cookies, Haruhi frets about her being cursed, and we get some (cookie) crumbs of HikaHaru as she’s startled by a glimpse of the witch and bumps into him. He calls her cute and squeezes her cheeks, and they bicker as he gets in the way of her baking and she calls him a brat and tells him that Kaoru is completely different to him, because he’s loud and crazy even when he’s on his own, and he has a filthy mouth. He takes it as a compliment and calls her great. Then Kaoru returns from getting an injury bandaged to help Haruhi with carving a pumpkin, coming up behind her to help her draw on the features before she carves. It doesn’t come out looking well, and Kaoru laughs at her and calls her the best, before sending her off so he can carve for her. We get some more scenes of the first years bonding, and a conversation Haruhi has with the others about how the twins used to be closed off before they joined the club, and then we find out the witches’ curse was completely made up by the twins just to get Haruhi to play with them. The witch is actually both of them switching places at different times just to screw with her! Kaoru looks pretty with long hair. The manga episode ends on a happy note, where Haruhi agrees to dress up and dance with them, and the other four hosts bemoan how little screen time they got.

Finally, now solely on the test of courage episode, we’ve got the twins, Haruhi, and Kazukiyo hiding out by a staircase while the poor chairman freaks out, and the twins start telling the story about the clock tower witch. Haruhi scolds them both, and has to physically grab Kazukiyo’s soul and shove it back into his body. Since we already heard the clock tower witch story in the manga, the twins instead tell a story about a student who died doing an experiment in a science lab, and now repeats the same experiment night after night, when he calls their bluff, they reveal they’re wearing freaky masks and say they’re the ones who died. When Haruhi reads the book in the manga her first suggestion of simply enduring it is called ‘masochistic’, but in the anime she goes through more ideas that are shot down all at once by Kazukiyo. The twins say he’s too pure to torture, and both the anime and manga give the example of Tamaki as a type who is pure but they can pick on. I love consistency. And picking on Tamaki.

The scares are the same in both, though a little out of order. It doesn’t seem worth talking about them in terms of what order they appear in. The ghost they see is a generic, slightly gory ghost in the manga, but is implied to be the witch tower ghost in the anime, and looks less freakish and more dehydrated.

Since the rest of the host club take a backseat to the courage test and don’t appear, we don’t get to see frankenstein Mori or ‘wolfman’ Honey scaring Kazukiyo before Kaoru catches up to him. They’re both shoved into a classroom by one of the black magic members, and not Nekozawa’s butlers, and Nekozawa doesn’t show up to gloat or question Kyoya not joining in on the fun (it’s the middle of the night and you’re here, you’re clearly involved!)

Hikaru and Haruhi are trapped in a net like fish, and Hikaru is surprised she has a sewing kit and a feminine side. She’s offended by how he words it in the anime, but denies she has a feminine side in the manga and admits she just borrowed the kit from Mori.

Since Haruhi already talked about the twins being different before all the way back in volume three, they skip right to her cutting the netting in the manga, but in the anime she says Hikaru by himself is annoying and thoughtless, while Kaoru is relatively sensible and calm. We then get the gratuitous fanservice scene where Haruhi goes chest to eye level with Hikaru. In the manga she actually gives him a kind of half hug, with his head on her shoulder as she cuts the net instead. They have similar dialogue about ‘bearing with’ or ‘putting up with’ their position, and anime Tamaki cries from afar as Nekozawa holds him back from interfering.

Anime Kaoru and Kazukiyo talk crushes and carriages (that’s probably already the name of a fic, I assume), and manga Kaoru talks about their created family and changing relationships. Kazkuiyo looks baffled in the anime, but we don’t get to see his face in the manga. I assume it’s the same amount of confusion. Hikaru bursts in to stop the pumpkin talk, and Kaoru looks at him like his knight in shining… pumpkin. Hikaru running off without Haruhi makes Kaoru realise his brother is fucking useless. They meet up with the others in their class and are scared to death by a cat puppet. Everyone but the twins are going to heaven, evidently.

Finally, the anime adds an extra scene for Kazukiyo and Kuregano, while Kaoru mentions that fucking spell and carriage and pumpkin again, and pushes them all off. The manga takes it more lightheartedly and has the whole club looking over the newspaper, and Kyoya questioning how exactly Hikaru knew where to find Kaoru when they were separated, leaving the episode on a slightly spooky note, while Kazukiyo stays home for three days straight after the fright. Don’t worry, he gets the girl later!

Episode 21… NOT THAT FUCKING GOURD AGAIN!

#ohshc #ouran high school host club #comparisons series #manga tag #writing tag

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