#Juicy Parade

[quadrantadvisor]

Alright new Jason Todd headcanons in a dpxdc setting:

Danny is a "liminal" ghost, rather than a "half" ghost. He's alive and dead at the same time. (He's like Jesus Christ (in the church denomination I grew up in), fully ghost and fully human.) Danny, in human form, can go through a ghost shield, because he IS a living human.

Jason, however, is a reanimated corpse. He isn't a ghost, wouldn't have a ghost core, etc, he has a normal human system that runs ON ectoplasm. Jason CANNOT go through a ghost shield, because he is always an ectoplasmic entity. Danny can go through the Fenton Ghost Catcher and be split into a ghost and a human; if Jason went through the ghost catcher, he would straight up die.

(For my purposes I'm gonna say that Jason became an ectoplasmic entity upon his resurrection, but wasn't very stable. Dunking in the Lazarus pit stabilized his system but also poisoned his ectoplasm.)

I do think that Jason could learn certain ghost abilities if he learned to harness his ectoplasm, especially if they detoxed him off the Lazarus waters. He's probably already enhancing his stealth and strength in ways he hasn't really noticed. I think he's held back by the amount of physical matter he's lugging around, so maybe he couldn't fly, but I'm imagining temporary invisibility, or intagibility of like, a limb at a time. Maybe he can't walk through walls, but in a fight he can dodge by instinctively making the targeted part of his body intangible.

[parasitefun]

transcription and no flames version under the cut

uncensored version on twt

TRENCH SFX: Oh!!

NORTHMOOR: Had I known that all it'd take to handle your attitude was to tie you up and pull you into the shape want, I would have acted on my urge sooner

TRENCH SFX: Mmgh!!

TRENCH: It's not as simple as you think, Boss--

NORTHMOOR: Oh, really? Interesting.

TRENCH SFX: AH!! <3

NORTHMOOR: And what do you think now? Do you feel differently when I'm all the way inside?

Trench: <3 Ohhuhh-- SIR!! <3

NORTHMOOR: Exactly as I thought <3<3

i originally did this lil sketch with housh0x but i both enjoyed learning and also hated and seethed and died fixing the pose

[iyohme]

and i know that you mean so well;

but i am not a vessel for your good intent!

("Tongues and Teeth," - The Crane Wives)

my serotonin got jetpack bursted into the stratosphere with this blurb by OP. Your brain is so juicy and moist and wrinkly OP. Godspeed. I'm not even into DC but the whole "Burnt out and neglected, and now a bunch of people driven by guilt guilt guilt want me back so they can feel less guilty?" just made the racoon in me rub its hands menacingly hoho

Just imagine not even living your best life; just a shadow in the lives of the illustrious Waynes, a ghost in a castle, visible only to the loyal servant and the occasional curious paparazzi who shrugs and looks away--after all, there was no mention of you in any occasion: must be the kid of in-house staff. How nice of Brucie Wayne to allow even the children of in-house staff the opportunity to study at such a high-end college! (The reporters chortle and snicker at your barely-passing marks, sighing at such a wasted opportunity. Oh well. And then they move on to the tabloid topic of the week, after the strutting socialites and the rich and the arrested Rogues.)

You gather things.

You gather pieces of a cracked dream, a single plastic teacup you had brought into the cavernous mansion the day you held Alfred's old, gnarled hand. Ears ringing and slippers still stained with your parent's blood as they were gunned down before your very eyes. You gather your things, what made you before you were "Wayne," so to say. Your mother's old cigarette box, smuggled from the crime scene, your one memento of the woman who you could not forget but never forgive.

A juxtaposition of love and hate, forever crucified. The image of the Virgin Mary inside the tin box seems to be a mockery of faith, across from her image lying cheap cigarettes.

You gather test papers, all barely passing and with more reds than blacks, and grind them up into strips with the shredder you had brought; just one time the black card Wayne had given you, and it left the bitterest, sourest aftertaste in your mouth. They burn so cozily on the school Bunsen burners, especially when sprayed with alcohol, immediately immolating like timelapse sparkler videos. You gather your name before the Incident, you cherish it, and you repeat the syllables in the dead of night, spilling past your mouth. Even if it was the name of a child-abusing monster, it was still yours, and it was still of use.

And use it, you would.

While they go and be a family, you work to begin yours.

You gather funds: it's easy to take on odd jobs when people do not suspect you. You tuck away that black card at the bottom of your study table drawers, forgotten there like scribbled-out pages of an essay, an unfinished drawing, and leftover candy wrappers. It's a bit-by-bit work, but you know the Waynes wouldn't even see it happening. Your brothers and sisters (an absurdly alien concept, as they don't even acknowledge you exist ninety-five percent of the time) are prodigies paraded around at every event. You are the unseen ghost flitting through their shadows.

Graduation comes and goes. It's laughably easy to falsify having lost your social security number and other documents--Gotham is that much of a shithole, you suppose. The man in the cowl notwithstanding. His efforts are admirable, but weak. Recidivism is common in this place, as if there were some sort of pull that incited the people in Gotham to cruelty, to madness.

It's absurdly Lovecraftian, in its own way.

You are not even living your best life, and yet you are free. Alfred knows; he always knows. If you are The Ghost, then the aged butler is a man one step between the doors of death, and he sees you every time you move. Your room is empty, and he raises an eyebrow at your satchel: all your items already stored elsewhere or given away.

("I suppose this was a long time coming, Little Master."

Tap tap tap. Footsteps on marble floors, setting sun.

You shrug. "Eh. The Waynes gave me a roof and education. It's all good."

You grunt. "Well, people change. Like you know, how kids being gifted stop being gifted when they grow older." You say, instead of 'Well, if a child doesn't get any praise or attention if they do good and probably even less if they were bad, why even bother?')

A pause. "Your academics were not so lackluster when you were younger."

You promise to try and stay in touch. (You crossed your fingers behind your back.) You leave, sunset on your face.

The nap you had in a dingy hotel with far too many odd stains and not enough locks you could put on was the soundest you've ever slept in years.

Freedom smells like summer air and the last rays of sun, followed by the cold blue hour.

It takes three months for an out-of-state college to accept you. It's far from Gotham. It has a dormitory. Excellent. While you were indeed a mediocre academic student, you had banked everything on band scholarships.

Who knew more than a hundred clarinet players had unclaimed scholarships yearly? Packing up your small life in bags, you take a train upwards to another state.

(Meanwhile, in Gotham, there is an odd sense of unease as Bruce Wayne stops by an inconspicuous door. It's relatively clean, as expected of his manor, but the worn out brass on the handle suggests that someone had lived there before. He opens the door. Steps in. A bed, a dresser, a study table. Bare bones.

The unease intensifies. But who?)

Someone had lived in here, yes.

[trulyumai]

fruits make the man

—pairing: General Acacius / Reader

—Synopsis: The first time you met the general was embarrassing but he was such a good sport about it! After all, how could he resist such a beautiful maiden?

—warnings: None. Pure fluff for the soul.

Enjoy!

The first time you met General Acacius, it was a complete and utter disaster. It was midday and you had been smack in the middle of the markets that paraded around rome. 

Your hands were overwhelmingly full, the basket that lay upon your hands covered in dried fruits, breads and cuts of meat. The streets were ever so busy. People pushed and shoved, desperate to be the first ones in line. 

All it took was one harsh shove for you to go plummeting down, your precious edibles falling alongside of you. No one bothered to stop, the fruits were squished in an instant, no matter how fast you tried to grab at them. 

You would have been trampled alongside the juicy delectables, if it wasn't for the hand that reached out to rip your form from the dirty ground. Out of breath and covered in mud, a garbled voice drew you out of the adrenalized accident. 

“-ou okay?” Gods, did you have to lay strewn about in front of such an image of a man? 

He was gorgeous. 

Up to the tips of his brown and graying hair, past his wide shoulders and down to the burly legs that held his frame above yours. 

“W-what?” you breathed, hand coming up slowly to push away unwanted dirt and sweat from your brow.

The soldier (which you assumed from his stature), only sighed. With you now standing upright, his arms removed themselves from your dress and already you missed the warmth they gave. 

“I asked if you're okay. Took quite a fall, hm?”  Acacius would have laughed if it were anyone else. 

But in front of such a beauty as this? He kept his mouth shut and bit down hard. Hard enough to draw a taste of blood that littered across his taste buds. 

“Oh… oh! Yes, I appreciate the help!” trying to laugh it off you grabbed at your (now torn) basket and fiddled with the bottom. Eyeing your crumpled fruits, the man reached down for an untouched piece of bread. 

Only… you had done the same. 

Both of your heads collided and the pain entered with a quick flash. Moaning out your hand went to meet with the soon to be bruise, only for it to interact with General Acacius' downturned face. 

“Oh my heavens- please forgive me!” It was pathetic how quick a couple tears came loose, brushing delicately past your long lashes. 

The man stood up, now with the bread in his palm as his other veiny hand rubbed the stricken cheek your hand came into contact with. Such a strong smack with such little hands.

Not being able to look at the man, you waited. Sucking in a breath, terror infused with you. No way you would get out of this alive. To hit someone of his stature, not once, but twice?!

It was unheard of, it was- 

Laughter broke you out of such thoughts. General Acacius let out deep chuckles, soothingly rubbing his cheek in the process. 

“You're a little clumsy aren't you small one?” With pinkened cheeks you held your hand out, awaiting the man to hand over the food. 

Still laughing, the man bent over once more, grabbing at whatever could be salvaged and placed in your basket. The wicker groaned out in protest as he loaded it more and more, swiftly he took it from your hands with one arm, placing it just beside his hip. 

“I'll help. Wouldn't want another accident would we.” His voice was deep, gravally. Still smiling at your shorter form, a pout found its way across your plump lips. The man shamelessly caught sight of them before meeting your gaze. 

“I, I'm sorry I didn't mean to.. You know.” Acacius' hand moved to and fro, already it has been forgiven. You hoped all soldiers of his stature would be this merciful. 

“Which way?” He had to lean in, the crowds were getting thicker, louder for the both of you to hear each other properly. Not being able to depend on your voice, you pointed with small hands, to the other side of the bay where your little home resides. 

His thick shoulders molded against you as he escorted the both of you out of the market. Bumping and glaring at anyone who dares dismiss your modest frame. Even going as far as to shove a larger man, one that had almost elbowed you directly in the face as he backed up with drunken intention. 

The citizen turned around, already balling up his fists for the perpetrator that laid a finger upon him. He saw you and almost spit out a laugh- until his gaze caught the golden and white shimmers by you. 

With wide eyes and mouth agape, the man bowed. You couldn't hear what he was saying, only assumed it was some form of apology before he scurried off in the other direction. 

You could get used to this. It would make grocery runs so much easier. A little smile graced your features as the two of you walked side by side.

With a large palm placed upon the back of your spine, Acacius resumed his guide, keeping you out of harms way. Keeping an eye on not only your basket of goodies but the soft form that molded against his side briskly.

Yeah, Acacius could get used to staring at such sights.

He was glad he made the decision to come to the market today.

[a-killer-obsession]

PITCHING TENTS ⛺️

Kid Pirates x AFAB Reader Modern AU Campground Series

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

It wasn't something you'd ever admit to those who knew you, they all made the reasonable assumption that you went camping to spend time alone. At first, that had been the case, but you'd quickly come to learn that other single men your age were doing the same thing, and you found yourself loving the thrill of a romp with a stranger.

Masterlist || AO3 || Part One

PART 2/6 - JUICY TREAT (Killer)

CW: sex with stranger, public sex, oral sex, food fetish, vaginal sex, degrading language, afab reader

WC: ~2k

Taglist: @nocturnalrorobin

The sun was well and truly set by the time your movie ended, and you had a hankering for a snack. It was a little warmer than you expected, so the popsicles you bought earlier sounded like a nice refreshing treat. You climbed out of your tent and were immediately hit with the dank smell of weed, your neighbours were having somewhat of a party. Maybe you could find a way to squirrel yourself in and get to know them, the night was still young. You caught the blond's eye as you left your tent and headed to the kitchen, still parading in your satin nightie. You went to the freezer and examined your small selection of individually wrapped popsicles, but on hearing footsteps behind you it was easy to select one. You turned back and saw the blond entering, brushing past you to open the fridge next to the one you had just been bending in front of, a coy smile on his face before he disappeared behind the fridge door. You unwrapped your popsicle and sat yourself on a counter. The large kitchen had four stacked ovens on one side, several fridges on the opposite, and a long line of counter space broken up by sinks along the surrounding walls. The center of the room had a long metal table running down it, with evenly distributed hobs for stove top cooking.

The blond pulled a handful of items from the fridge and placed them on the counter next to you, pausing for a moment to watch you run your tongue up the length of the phallic shaped ice lolly before sucking it into your mouth. He made a small amused huff before starting to cut up some fresh looking fruits.

“Strange snack for munchies,” you noted, letting your ice lolly go with a pop.

“You could smell that huh?” He replied. He had a deep, smooth baritone that sent a shiver through you, you'd love to hear how that voice sounded saying all manner of dirty things. “Sorry, I hope we didn't bother you. The boys like to party.”

“Didn't bother me at all,” you smiled, kicking your feet over the side of the counter, “you don't like to party as well then?”

“I prefer to keep my head about me,” he explained, “they've got plenty of snacks, the fruit is for me”

“Looks nice and fresh,” you noted, examining the selection.

“Want some?” He asked, pausing his knife.

“Sure, if you're offering,” you smiled sweetly. He held up a juicy looking cube of watermelon, expecting you to take it, but instead you leaned in close and ate it right off his hand, licking the juices from his fingers while you watched his pupils dilate till only a sliver of his icy blue irises were left. Hook, line and sinker, we got one boys.

Fruit and popsicle quickly forgotten, he was on you like a predator, standing between your legs and pulling your waist forward so your core was flush against him, forcing his tongue inside your mouth which you eagerly accepted. His kiss was rough and wet, all tongue and playful nips at your bottom lip, pulling greedy moans from you as you felt him harden against you. He grinded his tented jeans between your legs and you pulled hard on his hair, your legs winding around his waist to encourage him.

“You're such a fucking tease,” he growled as he pulled away from the kiss, pulling your hair as he made marks on your neck, “laying around in that skimpy little swimsuit, parading around in this sexy fucking slip with those delicious thighs out”

“You like what you see, big boy?” You purred, “why don't you get a taste?”

He bit down on your shoulder, making you groan, before pulling away and kneeling eagerly between your legs. You spread them invitingly, pulling your already soaked panties aside and using two fingers to spread your folds open for him.

“Eager little slut,” he mumbled against your bare thigh as he nipped at it, “came in here looking for a juicy treat and I certainly found it”

You pushed aside his bangs so you could see his hungry eyes as he ran his tongue up your core, grunting into you as he sucked on your clit and bullied his tongue inside you. The thick wet muscle felt heavenly on and in you as he alternated, before he settled on working at your clit and pumping you with two long fingers. You leaned back against the counter with your other hand, awkwardly still holding the popsicle before deciding to suck on it while he watched you.

“Give me that,” he growled, standing back up. He took a long suck from the popsicle before giving you a devious look. “Can I fuck you with it?”

You took advantage of your flexibility, showing off as you put your feet up on the counter, planting them flat either side of you, leaning back now that you had two free hands to lean on. “Go ahead blondie”

He gave you a smug grin as he brought the popsicle down to your core, and you winced slightly at the sudden cold as he ran it over your clit before sliding it easily inside you. The slightly grooved edges and the foreign temperature had you moaning immediately, not to mention the fact that it felt downright filthy to let a stranger fuck you with food. The grooved edges were quickly melted away and smoothed by your hot centre, and the man knelt again to lap at the sticky juices that were dripping from you until the popsicle was no longer big enough to satisfy. He pulled it out and sucked the juices from it, a mixture of the melted treat and your slick, before biting away what was left and throwing the stick in a nearby sink.

“You're one nasty bitch you know that?” He grinned as he stood in front of you, undoing his belt and pants. You stayed in your spread position, watching him hungrily, your pussy pink from the cold as you reached down to toy with it.

“I'm not the one who suggested it,” you replied smugly, fingering yourself as he pulled his pants down enough to free his cock. He pumped himself a few times, he was long and thick, a soft bed of blonde pubes at the base, his tip pink and dripping with precum. He pulled a condom from his jeans pocket and slid it on and you eagerly removed your fingers as he lined himself up.

“Pretty little thing though,” he cooed, lifting your chin and reconnecting his mouth with yours as he bullied the head of his cock inside you, the rest of him sliding in easily with how well lubricated you were. He swallowed your moans as he let you stretch around him, before pulling away with one last tug to your bottom lip. He pulled your legs up and rested your knees on his shoulders, folding you in half as he began to thrust deep and fast into you. Your head lolled back as you moaned, giving in and letting your back lay flat against the counter, your hair splayed out around you. He pushed your nightie up till your breasts were exposed, groping at them with one hand while his other held your hips tight so he could piston into you.

“Fuck, so tight,” he growled.

“So big,” you replied between moans.

“You take me so well though,” he pinched your nipple before moving his hand down to your clit, rubbing it with his thumb, “so fucking tight and wet for me, good girl”

You preened at his praises, your back arching from pleasure as you tried to keep yourself from smashing against the wall with every hard thrust. Seeing your struggle he pulled out, and you barely had time to whine at the emptiness before he had flipped you over, your feet on the floor and your torso bent over the counter as he plunged back inside you. He held your hips tight as he resumed his brutal pace, grunting behind you as his fingers sunk into your skin.

“Oh fuck, just like that,” you mewled, “just like that baby, I'm gonna cum real soon”

“Yessss, fuck,” he groaned, “cum for me beautiful, then I'm gonna paint that pretty ass of yours”

You reached back and grabbed his forearm for support as your orgasm tore through you, your legs shaking as you let out a long, satisfied groan. He worked you through it as long as he could before he had to pull out, tearing off the condom and shooting stripes of cum over your lower back and the curve of your ass. He kept one hand on your hip, his heavy length resting against your ass as he tried to catch his breath.

“Fuck, and here I thought this camping trip was going to be boring,” he half laughed as he stepped away, pulling paper towels from the communal roll on the counter and cleaning his cum off you. He dampened another and wiped it between your legs and down your inner thighs, cleaning away the sticky remnants of the popsicle. You stood back up and righted your clothing, sticking your head under a sink faucet to get a drink and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He'd already tucked himself away and gone back to his fruit by the time you turned back to him, and you sat yourself back up on the counter next to him, a satisfied smile on both of your faces. He handed you a slice of watermelon and you happily chomped away at it while he finished cutting up fruit, placing the snacks on a plate and cleaning away his mess.

“I'm Killer, by the way,” he told you as he dried his hands with a teatowel.

“[Y/N],” you smiled as you finished the watermelon and hopped down, throwing away the rind and washing your hands.

“What's a pretty thing like you doing camping on your own?” He asked curiously.

“Oh you know,” you replied coyly, “just unwinding”

He huffed in reply as he started to follow you out the kitchen door with his plate in hand. “Did you want to join us, by the way?” He asked as you approached the juncture of your two areas.

“Nah, I spent all morning driving,” you explained. As much as you'd love to smoke some weed and fool around some more, this was already more than you were expecting from today, and you could really use some sleep. “Another time though, definitely”

“Alright then, I'll hold you to that,” he smiled. You bid him goodnight and he returned to his friends, who were none the wiser as to what had happened in the kitchen given the volume of their talking and music. You used some wet wipes you kept handy in your tent, usually for use after pleasuring yourself, to clean up a little more thoroughly and changed into a clean set of panties before heading to bed. Before laying down to sleep you sent one more message your bestie.

You: blondie put out. So big too! 🤤 Bestie: damn you work quick, but then who can resist that banging bod of yours? You: lol thanks girlie 😘 ttyl, im off to sleep, nite! Bestie: night! Stay safe, use protection!

[NEXT PART]

[yanaleese]

Meet Karma, your new Yandere boyfriend!

Originally from El Salvador, Karma was born into the Sangre family - a line of totally innocent people who have no infamous connections whatsoever! He is the eldest out of his five brothers, and enjoys playing regular sports, including some...questionable ones.

However since that terrible, unfortunate day - things have never been quite the same. Now isolated and alone in an apartment somewhere in North Carolina, Karma has a new goal in mind: To never ever befriend a fucking vampire human ever again!

It's simple. All he has to do is (1) offer his black-hat hacking services on some shady websites, (2) steal some shockingly juicy government and state files (3) blackmail a few higher-ups and (4) use that gossip money to fund his exercise and gaming equipment by delivery-

Oh. Wait. Delivery?

"Puchica!" Karma cursed in his head, his fangs momentarily grazing his lip . He must've have fallen asleep a couple hours after working overtime. Brushing his bangs, he fully covered the bags under his eyes, before staring into the door's peephole, revealing your presence.

And there you were, impatiently tapping your feet in annoyance. As the minute hand kept ticking, your face gradually became distressed, your cheeks revealing your bloodshot eyes. You wanted sleep, and you wanted it now. After all the setbacks and inconveniences on your busy shift, this was your last delivery - and you were not going to let this customer shit on your parade.

As the door began to creek open, you flashed a plastic grin whilst waving the delivery in his face.

"This your delivery, Sir?"

Karma nodded, giving a genuine smile back, pen in hand. Your eyes almost bulged out of its eye sockets. You felt yourself bit your lip hard, causing it to bleed. Lowering your gaze, you prayed that your beating heart didn't combust into a malfunctioning, bumbling mess.

In your head all you could think about what was one thing, and one thing only.

Holllllllllllly shit. Those FUCKING T I T S -

"Cool. Just sign here, and you got yourself a present."

You heard a low chuckle out of him, causing a slight blush to form on your face. You cursed under your breath, trying to keep it together. Karma's eyes twinkled with amusement, loving the professional façade you retained on your already tired face. However, if you looked closely, you could see a hint of worry flash on his face as he saw you have a nosebleed, along with a bloody lip.

Noticing his concern, you wiped the blood of your nostrils. "Oh Sir I am so sorry-"

Without even waiting on your apology, he returned with a bundle of paper towels in his scarred, parched hands. Embarrassed, you mouthed a million apologies before shyly requesting for him to sign the blood-stained paper.

"Once again I am so sorry-"

"Don't be."

You nodded, avoiding his gaze. As he finished signing everything off, you lowered your polyester cap, your name beautifully sewn in cursive at the top - just like your shirt. Scarlet strands of hair shifted as he tilted his head, his eyes engraving your name into his head. That way, he could run a background check later.

As you hurriedly walked away, he glanced at the fresh droplets along the ivory paper before revealing a wide range of pearly, sharp teeth.

"Ah mierda..." He bit his finger, Karma's tongue salivating. Feeling the heat growing in his cheeks, he became dazed, as thoughts of you began to fill the crevices of his mind. "No puedo esperar para devorarte entero, [Y/N] ♡ ~"

--------------------Alternate versions---------------------

If you are interested in more of his lore, my inbox is open (lol)

and yes, the bulge was intentional 🥰

[sturniluvr]

show your pride

Nick Sturniolo x bisexual!bsf!reader

word count: 1,069

warnings: swearing, nothing else i don’t think, lmk if there’s anything i missed

requested: yes/no

summary: Nick and his bisexual best friend go to pride together

A/N: this may not be entirely accurate to what a pride parade is like as I’ve never been to one. also sorry if your names are Amelia or Bella😭 also idk if I really like this, feels kinda rushed but whatever.

❗️semi proof read❗️

Y/N and Nick were currently in his bathroom applying face paint to their cheeks, Y/N having the bi flag on both her cheeks and Nick has the gay flag on his. Y/N also had her beaded bracelet on that were the colours of the bi flag, pink, purple and blue. The pair applied some space camp lip balm in the mirror, Y/N using her favourite, juicy watermelon and stashing it in her shorts pocket and Nick doing the same with his own lip balm. 

“We look so fucking good girl!” Nick said excitedly, causing a laugh to escape Y/N at his excitement.  

“That we do Nicolas!” she replied with a smile on her face. They took a quick mirror selfie before they exited his bathroom and grabbed their flags off his bed and walked out his bedroom, closing the door behind them and made their way downstairs to wait for Matt so he could drop them off at a diner they’d planned to go to before the parade to get something to eat and drink. 

Shortly after, Matt Nick and Y/N got in the car, Chris had decided to stay home with Nate as he was visiting LA for the week. 

After getting dropped off, they decided to also look in some shops. In one shop Nick found a set of pink cowboy hats. 

“Oh my god! Y/N, we have to get these they’re perfect!” Nick exclaimed, she turned around to see what he was holding and as soon as she laid her eyes on the cowboy hats she started nodding her head eagerly, they finished looking round the store and made their way over to the checkout to pay for their items and left the store, immediately putting their hats on, they looked at each other and started laughing. 

“We look fucking ridiculous but also so cool.” Nick laughed, she nodded her head in agreement, the pair did look rather silly, but they couldn’t care less, it was pride and there was bound to be some extravagant outfits, from drag queens especially which the best friends were both looking forward to. 

half hour later

The parade had begun, Y/N and Nick were walking up the street in the crowd, their heads held high and proud with their respective pride flags wrapped round their necks like capes and their pink cowboy hats on their heads. 

Nick felt a tap on his shoulder, he turned to his side and was met with a sweet teenage girl, he smiled at her. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” His protective side kicked in slightly seeing the slightly distressed look on the younger girl's face. She nodded hesitantly. 

“Yeah, I just can’t seem to find my girlfriend, and I recognised you both, would it be okay if I stuck with you until I find her just so I’m not completely alone, I’ve never been to LA before.” 

“Yeah of course you can stay with us sweetheart” Nick replied with a smile, which she returned. 

“What’s your name?” Y/N asked the teenage girl “also I love your makeup it’s incredible!” She added on smiling sweetly. 

“Thank you! Yours is amazing too. My names Amelia, and my girlfriend’s name is Bella.” 

The trio continued to make small talk as they carried on down the street with the parade. 

Later on, Amelia had found Bella and the couple decided to stay with Y/N and Nick and the four walked along, singing at the top of their lungs laughing. 

Amelia and Bella eventually had to leave Y/N and Nick to find Bella’s mom. 

“Before we leave, can we get a photo?” Bella asked, knowing her girlfriend was probably too shy to ask and they were both fans of the triplets and Y/N. 

“Of course, let’s take one now before you have to go. Y/N get your hat on woman” nick yelled jokingly at the 19 year old, she jokingly rolled her eyes in response and put her hat on her head, the four took a selfie on Amelia’s phone and the younger teenagers left the pair. 

time skip

Y/N and Nick had got to the end of the parade and were now in a field in front of a stage ready for the performances, Y/N was most excited for Reneé Rapp, she had the biggest crush on the singer, and Nick was most excited for her aswel, joking about trying to set Y/N and Reneé up on a date. 

Reneé was about to make her way onto the stage and Nick quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket and started recording Y/N’s reaction to seeing her celeb crush. Y/N started screaming the second she saw the blonde walk on the stage. 

Her first song was Y/N’s favourite ‘pretty girl’ because it resonated with her so much as she had a similar experience with one of her ex friends. 

“SO KEEP ON PRETENDING PRETTY GIRL” the duo screamed at the top of their lungs and laughing with each other, Y/N recording on her phone for memories.  

Reneé had some a few more songs and there was a few more acts after her and the some speeches from LGBTQ+ groups and representatives, Y/N and Nick cheering in agreement whenever they agreed with something one of them said. 

an hour later

 

The duo had gone to a nearby McDonald’s and got food while waiting on their uber to come pick them up. 

“Thank you for today, it’s been amazing Nick” Y/N spoke with a smile on her face as she looked at her best friend of 7 years. He smiled back at her. 

“Of course, babes, I always have an amazing time with you, you’re my favourite person, alongside Matt and Chris unfortunately” he joked. 

“You love them don’t lie” she spoke sincerely, she loved all three of the boys like brothers ever since she had met them, they all immediately clicked when they had met at the start of high school. 

“Yeah, I do, but you’re a lot more tolerable than them two” he laughed, she nodded knowing how much of a handful Matt and Chris could be at times. 

They got home later that night, took their makeup and face paint off, got comfy clothes on and Y/N, Nick, Matt and Chris all sat on the couch watching a film with snacks and Y/N ended up stopping the night in Nick’s room with him where they watched RuPaul’s drag race with snacks and Dr Pepper and answering Snapchat replies from fans on Nick’s story.

🏷️: @imwetforyourmom @thenickgirl

[angelphone1]

introduction!!!!!

hi!! i'm angelphone! i'm a wallflower who finally obtained the courage to create a whump blog :) i remember falling asleep to whumpy fantasies since i was wayy younger but i never had a word for it until now! i'll try to be active and i like interacting with posts that otherwise have no comments or anything because i know how it sucks if nobody wants to read what you've written. be the change you want to see in the world yk? truly do not be afraid to @ me for anything if you want me to yell about it in the tags :)

oh and requests are 100% open!! no guarantees since motivation comes and goes but feel free to send something in!!

whump stuff i like:

addiction/alcoholism (especially when forced or initiated by whumper)

carewhumpersssss!!!

whumpers who are complicated and kinda make you feel bad for them

depressed/anxious/suicidal whumpees

lady whump .

medical whump (in the sense of, whumpee is injured and needs to be taken care of, especially when hospitalized)

self-inflicted injuries (ties into addiction/alcoholism, but any situation where whumpee does something bad and impulsive to themselves for whatever reason)

injuries without immediate care (infections left to fester, hidden wounds, whumpee "powering through" the pain, and especially the juiciness of the eventual reveal and/or the potential relief that comes with it being noticed)

abusive/controlling whumpers

looking at it that kind of just describe my wip lol.

whump stuff i most likely won't write (still feel free to @ me if you want me to read your stuff that has these things in it! just not something i'm crazy about, i don't want to rain on anyone's parade)

sadistic whumpers (generally i find them really one dimensional, but that's just me)

gags (i don't quite get the hype)

the sort of generic sort of torture whump where whumpee is kidnapped and hurt for whumper's amusement, which just seems to be a really common scenario

i'm sure there are more but uhh i fogror.

here's a peek at my current projects (as of right now, i only have one):

Chronic Letdown (title subject to change lol)

Esmeralda St. Luc has finally started to figure her life out. She broke up with her abusive ex. She got over her shitty mother's death. She stopped drinking. She got a job, and an apartment, and can finally imagine a future for herself, with the endless support of her best-friend-maybe-something-more Astrid and her family, who are convinced that Esmeralda deserves better than what she gives herself.

However, when her ex --- Heather --- abruptly re-inserts herself into Esmeralda's life, it threatens to destroy every single thing she's worked for; Esmeralda and Heather spiral, with each other's help, further into mutual self-loathing, and Astrid has no idea what to do when her best friend keeps showing up with new bruises. Eventually, she stops showing up at all; and Esmeralda's brutal crash out will give her scars she's not sure she can ever recover from.

Chapter 1: THE KICK

thanks for reading!!! i hope i see you all around! feel free to rb or dm or send me an ask if you want to chat or you want me to follow you :3333

[erwinsvow]

Sorry babe but my brain isn’t shutting off… a very original rafe and jj love triangle is plaguing my mind

I’m thinking the midsummers drama is about kook reader

Maybe she’s new to town like family moved to obx cause her dad became partners with ward which gave Rafe easier access to you than jj but how can you not immediately be charmed by him when Sarah brings you around to meet her friends??

- 💓

stop cuz this is where the real fucking tea is. it’s so obvious they both want u and they’re getting fucking jealous of the other… can easily imagine falling for rafe he’s so mean!!! sometimes barely gives u any attention and when he does he’s always like pushing you against a wall and making out with you or like honest to god fingering you in the bathroom w his family and ur family next door. then he pockets ur panties and sends you back out there without them. he’s such a menace but it’s so hard to stay away from him 😣sometimes he’s real sweet n obviously spoils you like crazy!! parades you around his friends, gives you rules to follow which you always do (like no drinking without his permission/talking to strangers etc). rafe is so territorial and possessive so to him you’re his already. however he never made anything official… which is where jj comes in.

it’s like when rafe makes you sad or ignores you for work or business or whatever you just go spend time with sarah, not knowing many people here but getting friendly with her since you’re over at tannyhill a bunch! she takes you out with her friends who are so different than what you expected! n rafe is always warning you about the wrong side of the island and those dirty pogues you need to stay away from.. but they’re not mean at all! they’re nothing like what he said, so sweet and inviting and funny. they’re all nice but jj is the nicest of course.

and jj i mean he’s a player so he can’t help his reaction to a new pretty girl hanging around his friends, getting along with everyone being awfully friendly and sweet for a kook. he thinks you must have a crush on him too, with the way you flounder around in your tiny sundresses and teeny bikinis at the beach. it’s not long before he’s taking you off on early morning surf lessons (and he loves to sleep in, so this means something), ditching smoke seshs with his friends to come sit with you on the beach or something, ignoring the fact that he has 100% seen you hanging round with rafe cameron recently when he’s making out with you and you’re crawling into his lap in the back of the Twinkie.

i so forgot about midsummers!!!!! yes it would be so juicy, seeing you all dolled up in a short dress, obviously you accompany rafe but when he stalks off to go have “serious, proactive conversations” you find jayj and get real tipsy over glasses of champagne with him. rafe sees red and jj is just screaming at him to let you make your own choice. at midsummers there was beef n tension n chasing but they wouldn’t start swinging just yet.

and you, i mean there’s nothing better than having the attention of a boy you really like but TWO. ur probably going crazy but you don’t realize how impacted rafe n jj are, literally butting heads and almost fist fighting everytime they see each other or see you with the other. you’ll be out at lunch with rafe playing footsie under the table, whining because he left you again to do work while he’s trying to apologize when you see jj—and start waving. jj of course comes to the table and gets comfortable, probably eats something off of rafe’s plate. you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and when you get back there’s definitely broken glasses and thrown silverware.

similarly when you’re on the beach with jj, if you see rafes truck pull up you go to say hi, and jj follows behind you, HATING the way rafe’s staring at your practically naked body in a tiny bikini because you are his girl, and he says as much.

“stop being a creep and starin’ at my girl, cameron. go find someone else to bother.” and you look back at jj, smiling all dopey because he just called you his.

“your girl? that’s real funny. she’s my girl, right babe?” and then you look at rafe, face burning with embarrassment. they start bickering back and forth while you stand there looking at both of them and feeling your head spin. this is when they finally start throwing punches, both of them rustling in the sand and ending up with bruises n black eyes.

you’d finally throw in the towel and start crying (typical shea reader insert 🙄) n of course they blame each other but then feel terrible, awkwardly scratching the back of their head while you sob about how i hate fighting!! i don’t wanna fight i love you both why can’t we just be happy together!!

jj n rafe lock eyes. they can clearlyyyyy tell what you need right now to feel better. so obviously they throw you into rafe’s truck, drive to a secluded part of the shore, and take turns fucking you on the bed of his truck <3 lol

[murfpersonalblog]

Thanks for tagging me @little-desi-historian! ❤️

YES, all of this takes me back to something I wanted to touch a lot more on in my original post when it comes to the historical male image, Percy, Lestat, and Matadors; because it truly does link back to how AMC is playing with dandyism and society's expectations about effeminate men.

Dandyism is a form of resistance culture. As I've said before, Lestat flouts gender norms because HE CAN do whatever he wants & get away with it. His androgyny's on a different level: effeminate or masculine, he's still a vampire, a SUPERnatural creature elevated beyond the bounds of social mores that determine what men & women could or SHOULD act/dress like. MANY people across social media have pointed to Lestat's limp wrists, long blonde "Barbie" hair and ESPECIALLY him dressing in drag in Ep7 as proof that he's the "wife/mother/woman/femme fatale" in Lousta's relationship, and THEN claim its either gender essentialism or homophobic/racist to say Louis is CANONICALLY female-coded one in BOTH the books and show (as AR said so). But no, Lestat in drag was a power move, because he doesn't care what anyone thinks/says/does--he'll just eat them. Mockingly eating the baby in a dress was a deliberate bastardization of motherhood/womanhood. Louis is called every homophobic name in the book by those expecting the black man to just take being insulted, but MARQUIS de Lioncourt DEMANDS being crowned KING of Mardi Gras, Krewe of Raj, & he'll show you exactly what he thinks about your silly homophobic hypocritical human society: You're just "the MEAT," let them eat KING Cake--you're his FOOD. Eff y'all, I'm dressed to KILL you, & laugh doing it.

Lestat's behavior is not only derived from the time period he was born & raised in (the Rococo era of so-called "effeminate" high class dandies--a la Percy Blakeney, etc). Lestat is the embodiment of PRIVILEGE: a powerful rich white male vampire, who leans into being foreign/French White to excuse anything he does that people find strange/off/unnatural/dangerous--all the red flags. 🚩🚩🚩

And red flags brings me directly back to matadors/toreros.

@toscrollperchancetomeme

😂 TYSM! Sam Reid dropped so many juicy deets; I couldn't resist! There's so much depth to the Matador outfit, beyond the gendered aspect of bullfighting that I discussed before. Let's go back to what Sam said about Lestat, and delve deeper into matadors:

The most iconic apparel worn by toreros ("bullfighters") / matador de toros ("killer of bulls") in Spanish bullfighting is the Traje de Luces, the "Suit of Lights." The colors are usually bright & vivid, as part of the showmanship & pizzazz. Darker palettes are less common, as shiny sequins (the luces/lights) became part of the standard fit.

However, Lestat's all-black Matador outfit from what Sam called the "villain sequence" in Ep5 seems to be loosely following the style of a different but very closely related outfit, the Traje Campero "Rural/Countryside Suit" aka Traje Corto ("Short Suit").

(These costumes are typically worn during ceremonial parades and a very specific festival I'll get back to in a moment, cuz it's important.) Unlike the Suit of Light's sequins & silk, the Rural Suit is made of suede, leather, or velvet, in dark muted colors. The pants can be light or dark, striped & patterned, with or without chaps (also found in gentleman's uniforms of military officers and cowboys).

The trajes originated from "the flamboyant costumes of the 18th-century dandies and showmen involved in bullfighting, which later became exclusive to the bullfighting ritual." (Wikipedia)

The ancestor of both trajes (luces/campero) is traditional 17th-19th century Andalusian clothing (Andalusia being the home of Spanish bullfighting), closely associated with a very particular type of masculine dandyism. (The campero/corto is also the costume worn by Andalusian male flamenco dancers.)

"Before the 17th century the profession of bullfighting did not exist as such, and the fighters did not wear luxurious & shiny trajes de luces, but instead normal clothes of the time according to the social class to which the bullfighter belonged. The first bullfighter trajes de toreros appeared in the 17th century, when professional bullfighters from Navarre & Andalusia wore characteristic garments with their gangs to participate in performances and thus differentiate themselves from other bullfighter bands." (translated/truncated from Spanish website)

In the mid-1700s, Francisco Romero revolutionized professional bullfighting by establishing the first matadors who fought on foot, heroically fighting the bull face to face with swords & the muleta (iconic red flag) in a dance-like performance, dressed in a suede/velvet coleto (jacket), a precursor to the traje campero. Romero (from a carpenter family) wanted to show off & stand out from the nobility, and changed the game entirely, through a form of social resistance-turned-innovation.

"At that time, bullfighting on horseback was more important, which was considered a sport and not a show. Bullfighting on foot was not yet widely recognized." (translated from Spanish website)

Bull-killing on horseback was practiced by Spanish noblemen, attended by lower class assistants on foot. Romero was the first to make on-foot matadors the stars of what was increasingly becoming a dandified show/performance/dance. Matador Joaquin "Costillares" Rodríguez introduced even more showmanship, competing against Francisco Romero's grandson Pedro Romero (famously painted by Goya--bottom right).

For his matches, Costillares (middle) dressed in flashy silks, threaded in shiny silver braiding; the precursor to modern traje de luces. Like Francisco Romero (left), Costillares wanted to show off & stand out; and revolutionized the male image of the bullfighter through clothes.

In 18th-19th century Andalusian Spain there were 2 types of dandy: the French-imported upperclass petimetre (effeminate dandy), and the indigenous working class majo (masculine/macho dandy).

Noyes, Dorothy. “La Maja Vestida: Dress as Resistance to Enlightenment in Late-18th-Century Madrid.” The Journal of American Folklore 111, no. 440 (1998): 197–217. https://www.jstor.org/stable/541941

The majo, like many dandies, became the peak of Andalusian fashion, across all social classes; and torero/matador outfits weren't the only ones to take cues from them:

18th-19th century majos "distinguished themselves by their elaborate outfits and sense of style in dress and manners, as well as by their cheeky behavior. The majos outfits were exaggerations of traditional Spanish dress. The style stood in strong contrast to the French styles affected by many of the Spanish elite under the influence of the Enlightenment. Majos were known to pick fights with those they saw as afrancesados ("Frenchified" – fops)." (Wikipedia)

The majos' flamboyant/cheeky/saucy/exaggerated behavior was aggressively masculine; a lower/working class resistance to social mores imposed on them by (foreign) elites, whom they saw as more feminine, and FOUGHT against, to reaffirm their masculinity. These dandies were violent, brazen non-conformists; as beautiful & stylish as they were dangerous. And matadors/toreros knew that the bullfight was the perfect arena to exemplify the spirit of the majos through the dandified performance art/sport of killing bulls--a universal cultural symbol of masculine prowess & strength. Spanish bullfighting used to belong solely to the aristocratic equestrian sphere. Lowly pages/assistants like Francisco Romero (dressed in the precursor to the Rural/Countryside Suit), were the first to buck the system by killing bulls on foot--he likely didn't own a horse. The Romeros were from a carpenter family. Costillares was the son of a butcher. But through bullfighting they gained social status and became icons of masculinity--and dandies.

Lestat--the nouveau riche son of a poor country marquis--insists on being all the beautiful things he is without apology: masculine & effeminate alike. But like I said, it was no coincidence that Carol likened Lestat's Ep5 villain outfit with matadors--he's fighting Louis for dominance in their household, and reaffirming his place at the top of their very gendered social hierarchy, as a warning to BOTH "the housewife" AND "the prodigal daughter" he feels are threatening his authority as their Maker, so he defeats them BOTH.

Carol Cutshall initially designed Lestat's matador pants as pajamas--loungewear. (Lestat's CASUAL & comfortable in his ability to KILL--matador means "Killer" in Spanish--and remember what I said about Louis & Claudia being put on the same parallel level in Ep5, when Claudia's attacked by "Killer" aka Bruce.) Sam said Carol made several versions of the pants; and yup, they're foreshadowed in Ep5 when Lestat first starts arguing about Louis' depression, then they pop up again in Ep7 during the Murder Plot--two instances @dwreader brilliantly linked Lestat (& Stanley Kowalski) wearing wifebeaters. (Listen, Carol, I just wanna talk.... 😅🔫)

And here's my last points about Lestat's matador outfit. First there's the irony of Lestat (who grew up poor in rural France) wearing the something very similar to the matador/torero's Rural Suit, traje campero (aka Short Suit (traje corto)). But what's more interesting is that that type of Short/Rural Suit is usually only worn during special festivals called the Tienta ("trials"), not the regular corrida ("bullfights").

These Tienta are trials for young and immature bulls to be tested in the ring, to see if they're fit for breeding/fighting. 🤯 FLEDGLINGS. And who's Lestat's young bull? "Built-like-a-bird" Claudia. Who's the immature bull? The "biggest rat eater of them all," the under-developed "botched" vampire Louis. During these trials, veteran matadors can show off their skills; and novice bullfighters are shown the ropes and prove themselves. Like I said: the matador wins again.

God, even the way Lestat dragged Louis' bloody body out of the courtyard by the jaw/neck resembles the way the defeated bull--bled out & stabbed in the neck--is dragged by the neck out of the ring.

And remember what I said about Lestat and FOOD. Cuz what happens to the bulls after the matadors kill them? They're sent to the slaughterhouse to be butchered for FOOD. People EAT the bulls.

So yeah, my whole point in this post and my first one is not to sleep on guys like Lestat, Percy--or even other famous dandies like Valmont from Dangerous Liasions/Cruel Intentions (mentioned by both @little-desi-historian and @dwreader)--just because they're effeminate--especially when they're emulating mannerisms from a time period where the model of what made a fashionable gentlemen/good breeding/elite society did NOT match modern expectations about gender. People are getting distracted by Lestat's yaasified manner, not what the show itself is signalling through the relationships he has with others.

This show is deliberately painting Lestat as a villain through Louis' & Claudia's perspectives, as they were the ones who suffered under his Reign of Terror. The symbolism behind the matador-inspired costume used in Ep5 reflected gendered social hierarchies embedded within bullfighting culture (in Spain, women only started being allowed to fight in the 19th-20th centuries). Dressed in clothes resembling that of a matador, Lestat beating & defeating Louis mirrored the defeat of the emasculated bull, and the reification of the victor's masculine prowess at the top of the foodchain.

[thefirelookout]

Dead silence

This post is an attempt to share or let out some of my complex feelings about the situation in Bangladesh.

We went to our city's protest yesterday. It was a silent, peaceful protest. The Bangladeshi student community here in Kingston stood in a human chain with placards. "Save Bangladesh student", yes grammatically wrong, yes, it assumes that young revolutionaries need saving, so on and so forth. The protest started and ended quietly. My non-Bangladeshi friends were a bit confused, since they're used to chanty protests for Palestine, or union picket lines with cars passing by, honking in support. There was more noise even for the Iranian protests, Zan Zendegi Azadi. The silence of a graveyard in this one, though.

Who cares about little old Bangladesh? I sometimes wonder. We're not in the eye of the middle eastern storm like Syria, Lebanon or Palestine are. We're not strategically important, we don't even have many natural resources like Sudan or Congo do. The Prime Minister visited China recently to ask for an aid or a loan, and came back pretty much empty handed. China isn't very interested in us. India has gotten what it needed to get, and can milk more out of us, but they can do the same with Nepal or Bhutan too. We're never in the headlines, the US or the West in general isn't interested in us at all. And Pakistan denies that the 1971 genocide ever happened.

Which is why, the world isn't missing our voices due to the internet blackout.

The voices were all over my Facebook newsfeed. Aunties and apus on Facebook live selling sarees, jewelry, crafts, elderly boomers sharing gardening tips, quick fixes or herbal remedies that they swear by, people sharing posts about cricket or which cricketer's wife wore what, food bloggers calling every possible dish juicy (be it a burger or the meat in biriyani), celebrity drama, political drama to the extent of what was allowed back home. That sort of thing.

Now, again, there's the silence of a graveyard over here. And I feel like screaming till I snap my vocal cords. Can you all please come back? Please? The silence is unbearable! Please! I won't judge you if you sell your wares! Please! I won't judge if you think turmeric water can act as a miracle detox! Please, please I won't say a word if your post about your stupid cricket match! Just something, please say something! I haven't seen a single one of you online. Please don't die, please stay safe. When the internet comes back, please, post about your vacations and your pets. Not the dead, please, don't post about the bodies. I can take a bit of silence but not more bodies please!

Speaking of bodies. There was an armoured vehicle, painted navy blue in the colours of the police (fuck them). And there was a body on top of it. Dead, obviously, very dead, because it flopped down with the slightest nudge, and was left on the streets. Before that happened, the vehicle drove about as if parading its spoils of war, with the body on top. Sending a message. This will happen to you if you raise your voice.

That image has been haunting me for two nights now. So yeah, I'm not man enough to get some incisive political analysis out. I have no either or predictions for what happens if the regime falls or doesn't fall. My body feels numb, I've been binge eating because I still have food in the house and I won't be gunned down if I go out to get groceries now. My non-Bangladeshi friends, bless their first world hearts, have never had to live under fascism. Bless their hearts, have never had to stifle their voices to the extent that we've had to. Bless their beautiful hearts, could hardly pronounce Bangladesh. But they still showed up to that docile little protest because they care about my spouse and I. I can't even begin to thank them.

My insides are tearing up. I'm sitting with a poker face typing all this word vomit, but my insides are nothing but a scream. No clever realpolitik comes out of a heart that's screaming, because our mouths are sewn shut.

[org4n-failur3]

I was live4-failur3 , hea4t-failur3

I’m Vivi

I’m a girl (obv)

I LOVE juicy couture!!

I make info posts on my second blog

My bf<33

I Like true crime cases and Reichblr

I’m blonde and annoying

I shitblog ⚠️ I USE BRAINROT TERMS IRONICALLY!

☆ PLAYING: ☆

“Go To Town With A Pump Gun Up Your (Cvnt)

Ak-47 92 Beretta

Don't Give A Good God Damn What You Think Of Me Or What I Do”

My fav CASES are: Dylann Roof,Green River case Thurston school, Dahmer, heavens gate, waco

My fav reichblr topics: the Ardennes, ussr

INTERESTS: COF, fears to fathom, South Park, Family Guy, Elvira, Horror, chemistry, forensics, psychology, Law, Religion/politics, pop culture, sports (football/hockey), ACNH, bad movies

MOVIES/SHOWS: American psycho, South Park, The dirt, Zero day, documentaries, Legally blonde<3, Elvira mistress of the dark, Elvira haunted hills, Orphan, The spice girls movie, The exorcist, Mars Attacks, killer klowns from outer space, killer bong, scream, Texas chainsaw, 1000s corpses, 3 from hell, Thirteen Ghosts, Natural Born Killers,The Love Witch

LANGUAGES: English, German, CAN French, Czech, learning Latin

MY MUSIC: Ayesha, KMFDM, Rammstein, Korn, motley, afourteen, lil darkie, Taylor Swift, Brittany spears, darkthrone, LDR, mortician, Mayday parade, falling in reverse, get scared, Amber pacific, MCR, Kanye, Tyler the creator, usher, avenged sevenfold, old P!ATD, fall out boy, paramore, metallica, PTV, Def leppard, iron maiden, rob zombie, slayer, ozzy, immortal, pathology, Siouxxie and the banshees, Bauhaus, this cold night, depeche mode, sisters of mercy, party cannon, Carpathian Forest, Taking back Sunday, The millionaires, KESHA!!, dance Gavin dance, Molchat Doma, Christian D3ath, Forever the sickest kids, NOFX, alexisonfire, Bad Religion, Tiger army, ASKING ALEXANDRIA!!, the used

FUTURE ATTORNEY<3!!

⚠️ I AM NOT A NAZ! OR A DAMN THR3AT TO SCHOOLS

[honeysickledream]

just thinkin’ about simon finding some kinda comfort in small towns located in the southeastern u.s*. (i’m in my feels tonight, sorry.)

cw: brief alcohol mention

he’d love the messily laid out downtown squares, the rustic shops outnumbering the new modern ones that have hardly any traction. there are always stupidly huge rocking chairs on at least one street corner, and the occasional horse-drawn carriage depending on the town.

the parks might be small, but they’re always jovial. the ducks, squirrels and chipmunks are plentiful, used to humans and the bits of seed they hand out from the bins near the water features.

the local restaurants make food that’s rich and heavy. the service is slow and sweet, never busy enough to stress him out. he loves taking tours of distilleries that leave his clothes smelling like whiskey or bourbon for hours.

the holidays are fun, too, no matter what time of year. festivals and parades, concerts and drive-ins. there’s always something to do, crafts to buy, people to stop him so they can talk his ear off about everything until he finally finds a way to politely end the conversations.

there’s a sense of community that he hasn’t been able to find elsewhere (except w/ the 141). everyone knows who you are and what your business is—which causes some trouble, yes, but it’s worth it when the old ladies stop by his little bungalow with huge dishes full of food, jugs of homemade lemonade and sweet tea, and juicy gossip companionship.

[siren-serenity]

hi siren!! can i request a reader that spoils deuce whenever he enters the cafe? like as soon as he comes yuu is giving him heavily discounted food or "complementary snacks"!! just a reader whos incredibly sweet and nice but just to deuce?

↳ *TITLE: PERSONAL BIAS FOR YOU!* ༉‧₊˚✧

↳ *READER X DEUCE SPACE!* ༉‧₊˚✧

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ omg this is so cute alkjlkjdsjldfsa. i just love the idea of the first year gang staring/gasping at deuce as the reader gives him so much obvious bias LMAO

↳ *𝘛𝘈𝘎𝘚!* ༉‧₊˚✧

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Taglist: @krenenbaker, @moonlitnyx, @azulashengrottospiano. @eynnwwyjth, @parad-ice-lostandfound, @officialdaydreamer00, @leonistic, @plutosring, @starsilluminateourgalaxy, @aceofsweets, @rav--en, @dowdos, @deathkat657, @escha-evenstar, @toffeeeez, @dearest-siblingtwst, @biromanticboba, @savanaclaw1996, @candlewitch-cryptic, @lowenergyallday

please reblog or dm if you wish to be tagged!!

"Come on, Deuce!" Ace whined, dragging his best friend to Cafe Amor. Deuce Spade rolled his eyes but trudged behind him for the nth time. Their other friends, including Jack, Ortho, Epel, and a slightly reluctant Sebek, followed behind.

Deuce let a small swear tear from his throat as he stumbled. "Shit!"

"No swearing!" Ortho's cute voice piped up. Epel snickered.

"Oh my Sevens- can you hurry up, Juice?" Ace laughed as Deuce flipped him a sneaky middle finger. "I wanna get free stuff from Cafe Amor! Or should I say...from Y/N?"

Deuce's cheeks flushed bright red as he attempted to form coherent sentences but failed. The 'First Year Gang' watched with amusement as splutters and half-formed excuses made their way out of his mouth only for him to choke on his words. The paleness of his skin made his blush stand out more obviously.

"W-What? Come on Ace, what are you talking about now?" Deuce scoffed but the stutter in his sentence gave way to his flustered feelings immediately.

Ortho spoke up and his blunt way of speaking was enough to rouse laughter.

"You have a blush! According to science, this indicates the person has feelings for the mentioned person! You have a crush on Y/N, Deuce."

The bell chimed over their heads as they walked into Cafe Amor. Deuce's loud stutters drew a couple of students' attention.

"Ortho, can you please say that softer so Y/N can't hear?!" He whisper-shouted, gesturing wildly. Ace slung an arm over his shoulder, practically cackling.

"Aww is Juicy-Deucey getting shy?" He teased, narrowly dodging a punch to his face. "Sevens- not the face!"

"Shut up!"

"Erm- hi?" You spoke, waving your hand awkwardly. Deuce and Ace froze comically; the spade-eyed boy had Ace's shirt bundled up in his fist while Ace's arm was frozen over Deuce's head. "Are you all ready to order?"

"I'll have the apple pie," Epel piped up. "Sebek and Jack wanna try the mango smoothie and Ortho..."

He trailed off, staring at Ortho with a questioning look in his eyes. "Uhh, Ortho, how do you eat?"

The robot boy shrugged. "I don't eat, I analyze the food to understand it's flavor! I'll just see what everyone eats."

Epel nodded. Deuce and Ace let go of one another, clearing their throats, although a bright blush remained on Deuce's face. Sevens- how could he let himself be all wild-like and feral in front of Y/N? Who knows what they might think of him after this...

"I'll have a cherry tart and Deuce wants the egg tart," Ace spoke before leaning in with a glint in his eyes. "But....can the tarts be free? You know, asking from one friend to another."

You laughed as your fingers typed in their orders. "Can't do that, and you know it, Ace."

"Come on! We all know that you always give Deuce an extra tart or two, even though he didn't order it!" Ace whined. "Please, Y/N? We're your best friends, right?"

Deuce smacked Ace's head. "No means no, Ace! Good Sevens..."

Melody took over the counter as Y/N left to go get ready their food. She chuckled at the sight of them, red and blue eyes twinkling.

"Flustering Deuce again?" She shook her head in mock disapproval although anybody could see the glee in her eyes. "For shame guys, for shame."

"And done!" Your cheery voice piped up as you set down their take-away bag. The scent was delicious and the first years were practically drooling. "Thank you for choosing to eat at Cafe Amor!"

"Thanks, Y/N," Deuce gave you a smile as he took the heavy bag from you. Your fingers brushed against each other and he could feel a spark down his spine from just milliseconds of contact. From the blush on your face, it seems that you felt it too. "F-For the food!"

You covered your face with one hand before using the other to shoo them away. "B-Bye guys! See you in class!"

Before Deuce could make a further fool of himself, Jack took pity and dragged him out of Cafe Amor.

"Goodbye Y/N!"

"See you in History, Y/N!"

"GOODBYE HUMAN! THANK YOU FOR THE FOOD!!"

"Bye!"

"Damn Deuce!" Ace threw an arm over Deuce's shoulders, poking his blush with a Cheshire grin on his face. "You're down bad for them!"

Ortho's voice made his blush grow even darker.

"I sense there's more than one egg tart in the bag! It seems that Y/N has given us another free treat!"

Ace and Epel exchanged a grin. "Yeah I wonder why..."

"ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT! ACE, YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO RUN!"

"SHIT!"

[phr3ia]

Love Game (Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader) [Chapter 25 : Confession]

(A/N : This is your theme song with Toji)

"What the hell, Toji?!" you groaned, covering your eyes with your pillow as Toji's loud knocks on the door rudely interrupted your much-needed sleep. "Why are you waking me up on my day off?"

Toji peeked through the crack in the door, smirking. "Wanted to wake you up for brunch, lazy bones." he said, his voice teasing.

You squinted at him, your vision blurry. "You're an asshole, you know that?" you grumbled, sitting up in bed, disheveled hair and a mess of blankets around you.

"You look like you've been run over by a truck, but hey, brunch is on me, so get dressed and let's go." Toji said, smirking.

"I need more time, Toji. I need to take a shower first." you said, rubbing your eyes.

Toji rolled his eyes, "Come on, you just need to wash your face and brush your teeth, and you'll be ready to go. You're not that bad." he said, his tone dismissive.

"I look like shit, Toji. Why would you want to parade me out in public looking like this?" you asked, gesturing to your rumpled appearance.

Toji's eyes roamed over you, and he gave you a once-over. "Nah, you look fine. Besides, you're beautiful as hell, no matter what you look like." he said with a cheeky grin.

Your cheeks instantly flushed red, heat creeping up your neck as you looked away from his gaze. "Don't act all nice and sweet out of nowhere, Toji," you said with a roll of your eyes, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"Get a move on, Y/N. I'm not waiting all day for you to get ready." He said, throwing your towel at you before pushing you towards the bathroom. "Ten minutes, and I mean it. I'm not joking around."

You huffed, but obeyed, entering the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. You heard Toji's footsteps moving away, muttering something about giving you some privacy.

[8 minutes later]

You emerged from your bedroom, smoothing out your dress, feeling surprisingly confident. Toji's jaw dropped, his eyes wide as they roamed over you.

"Wow, you put an effort into looking good for me today, didn't you? And you even took a shower!" he said, his tone teasing. "You're usually a slob when you're not working. I'm impressed. "

"I'm not dressing up for you, Toji." You shot back defensively, crossing your arms.

"Sure, sure. Just admit it, you look good, and you know it." Toji just grinned, grabbing your wrist and pulling you along with him.

You playfully tried to struggle, but he held on firmly, leading you to his car. "Wait, where are we going?" You asked once you were settled in the passenger seat.

"I'm taking you to an all-you-can-eat restaurant in Dogenzaka. I hear they have a great brunch buffet, so we're gonna pig out today." Toji replied, starting the engine.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You're such a glutton, Toji."

He winked at you, revving up the car, and driving off towards the promised land of food. "And you need to eat more." He retorted, laughing, clearly enjoying the banter.

As soon as you stepped into the restaurant, your eyes widened, your pupils dilating at the sight of the endless array of food in front of you. "Toji, this place is a dream come true!" you exclaimed, your voice full of excitement.

Toji chuckled, watching your reaction. "Looks like I made the right call bringing you here, huh?" He said, patting you on the back.

You were like a kid in a candy shop, grabbing foods like fried rice, sausages, eggs, pancakes, and fruits, stacking them onto your plate. Toji watched you, raising an eyebrow.

Toji laughed, shaking his head. "Slow down, you're gonna get indigestion." He warned, watching you fill your plate with various dishes.

You glanced at him, your cheeks flushed, but you couldn't help but smirk. "I'll be fine, Toji. I can handle it." you said, biting into a juicy slice of watermelon, the juice dripping down your chin.

Toji shook his head, grinning. "You're something else..." he said, taking a seat beside you, grabbing a plate for himself. "But I guess that's part of your charm." Toji quietly thought to himself, staring at you with a smile.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Man, that was delicious. Thanks for bringing me here, Toji." you said, giving him a grateful smile.

"Anytime, Y/N." Toji replied, "So, any plans for the rest of the day?"

You tilted your head, thinking for a moment. "Not really, just gonna relax at home. But I'm bored. How about you? Do you have any missions lined up?"

Toji shook his head, "Nope. Nothing scheduled for today. I'm free as a bird."

"Well, since you're free, how about we go to the arcade?" you asked, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "I haven't been there in forever. I bet you're good at fighting games, right?"

Toji almost choked on his water at the suddenness of your invitation, his face flushing a deep shade of red. In his mind, he imagined the scenario playing out, and yes, it did seem like you'd be mistaken for a couple if you went to the arcade together.

He managed to recover and wiped his mouth, smiling sheepishly. "Arcade? Sounds like a plan. I'm pretty good at fighting games. I can teach you some tips if you're interested." Toji replied, trying to play it cool.

You grabbed Toji's hand and started pulling him along, your excitement getting the better of you. "C'mon, let's go! I want to play Street Fighter!"

Toji, on the other hand, felt like he swallowed a swarm of butterflies. His heart was racing, and his palms were sweating. He felt like a teenager on a date, but he tried to act as if nothing was happening.

You led Toji to the arcade, still holding his hand. "This place looks fun!" you exclaimed, your eyes wide and bright, taking in the sights and sounds around you.

"Alright, Toji. Let's see how good you are. Chun-Li vs Ryu. On!" you said, selecting your character.

Toji grinned. "Watch and learn, Y/N." he said, starting the match.

At first, the match was close, but Toji's character seemed to have a knack for dodging your attacks. After several rounds, you were losing, and your frustration began to show.

"Damn it, Toji! How are you so good at this?! I'm going to beat you next time!" you exclaimed, slamming the joystick with a huff.

Despite losing, the two of you continued to play, taking turns and having a blast. You even tried your hand at other games, from rhythm games to shooting games, and Toji was surprisingly good at them all.

"Man, I never knew you were this skilled in gaming, Toji." you commented, leaning against the machine, exhausted from all the playing.

"Well, I do have a lot of downtime between jobs, so I fill it up by playing these games." he explained, giving you a mischievous smile. "Plus, I'm competitive by nature, so I tend to practice a lot."

After a long day of gaming, Toji suggested a break, and the two of you stepped outside, the cool breeze hitting your faces. You followed him, intrigued by the sudden change. As you walked further, you found yourself at a seaside boardwalk.

"Toji, where are we going?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Toji grinned, pointing to a small ice cream shop. "Let's get ice cream, and we'll watch the sunset from the bench over there." he said, nodding towards a secluded area with benches.

You smiled, agreeing. Then a few minutes later, you sat down next to Toji.

"Thank you. This is a nice way to end our day." you said, taking a bite of your ice cream.

"No problem. It's always nice to enjoy the sunset." he replied, gazing at the horizon.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" you asked, gesturing to the sky as the sun slowly disappeared below the horizon.

Toji nodded, his gaze shifting from the sunset to meet yours. "Yes, it's beautiful." he whispered, staring at you.

You felt your heartbeat quicken, and your cheeks grew hot. You looked away, breaking the intense stare.

"So, um, thanks for today, Toji. You made my day." You said, trying to change the subject and break the tension.

Toji's eyes lingered on you for a moment before he looked away, "No problem. I'm glad I could make you smile today." He replied.

You smiled, relieved that the mood had eased. "I owe you one, Toji. For the brunch and the arcade. Next time, I'll return the favor."

Toji chuckled, "Next time, I'll expect a spa day, okay?" He teased, trying to lighten the atmosphere as he finished his ice cream.

You laughed "You know what, Toji? You're starting to creep me out. Did you see God or something? You're being way too nice today. It's a little unsettling." You said, trying to joke around. "I mean, it's not meant to offend you or anything. I'm just saying, you're usually not this kind."

"Why? Are you getting butterflies whenever I treat you nicely?" He asked, teasing you, making sure to emphasize each word.

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your embarrassment. "No, I'm not getting butterflies. I'm just surprised, that's all. Usually, you're too busy being an annoying dickhead to care about anyone's feelings."

Toji couldn't help but laugh at your comment, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He leaned in, gently tousling your hair before pulling back, "Well, I'm not an annoying dickhead all the time. Sometimes I can be a nice guy too, you know."

You pouted, but you couldn't help but snicker. "You're still an annoying dickhead most of the time, but I'll give you this, Toji. Today, you redeemed yourself a little." You said, crossing your arms, but your tone held a fondness that betrayed your words.

"Mission accomplished." Toji said, giving you a thumbs up. "Now, I'll go back to being an annoying dickhead tomorrow. You've been warned." He teased.

"Whatever." you said, dismissing his threat with a wave of your hand. But after a pause, curiosity got the best of you, and you turned to face him. "Seriously, why are you being so nice to me lately, Toji?"

Toji hesitated for a moment, his expression serious. "Do you really want to know why?" he asked, looking directly into your eyes.

You considered his question for a moment, then nodded. "Yes."

He let out a breath, looking away before meeting your gaze again. "Are you sure?"

You nodded again. "Yes, I am."

Toji's voice was soft, but his words hit you like a ton of bricks. "I like you, Y/N." He said, his gaze fixed on yours.

You blushed bright red, stunned by his confession. Your mind raced, trying to process his words. "What... what did you just say?" You stuttered, looking away, embarrassed.

Toji shrugged, standing up from the bench, his hands shoved into his pockets. "I said I like you, Y/N. Does that need clarification?" He asked, trying to sound casual.

You looked back at him, your cheeks still burning. "You... You like me, Toji? Like... romantically?" You asked, your voice barely audible.

Toji nodded, "Yes. Romantically. And it has been a while already." he admitted, avoiding eye contact.

You stared at him, trying to wrap your head around his confession. "Wow... I don't know what to say."

"One month. Give me one month, and I'll make you fall in love with me." he said, locking eyes with yours.

Your blush deepened, but you shifted your gaze, trying to deny it. "I'm never going to fall in love with you." you insisted, feeling nervous.

"Alright. I'll change that." he said confidently.

Toji turned around, glancing at you over his shoulder. "Let's go home. It's getting late." he said, trying to break the tension.

Once you arrived at your apartment, Toji helped you out of the car, being the gentleman he claimed to be. You thanked him, moving past him to unlock your door.

You spent the entire night tossing and turning, your mind reeling from Toji's confession. You couldn't believe he liked you, and you couldn't believe that you, in turn, felt butterflies in your stomach at the idea.

In the end, you fell asleep, dreaming of a future where you were happily in love with a certain Sorcerer Killer.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

End Of Chapter 25 🥀....

@meowforluv @miizuzu @geniejunn @scorpiosugar @barelylivingirl

[nekohime19]

Okay so I had this idea for a shadowpeach fanfic and I found myself writing the first chap. I'm not sure if I'll continue it but, hey, I never know 🤷.

Basically, it's a "what if Wukong stayed a bimawen" story. Wukong never truly rebelled against Heaven and stayed as bimawen and Macaque is captured and ends up being Wukong assistant.

It's the monkeys being stableboys! 🐎

Also I want it to be more JTTW faithful, so Wukong character and appearance is more faithful to JTTW, same with Macaque where he doesn't exactly have the same character or appearance than in LMK.

I think I'll call it the Bimawen Au.

The sun was piercing the last remainders of the night, chasing away the darkness in the earth's corners. The birds were singing outside of the wooden shack, perching on the trees highest branches, they celebrated the dawn in joy. Jing liked to see them. He found beauty in the way they ruffle their feathers, in the way their wings unfolded and cut the air around them. He wondered what it would feel like to fly, to taste the winds roaming the world and go wherever he wished. To live with his whims, never shackled by his earthly flesh. He liked to imagine himself as a god. How free must it be to live above others? To parade in the Region Above? But he never voiced those desires, keeping them in the confine of his heart, for fear of being punished by the gods, the spirits and the constellations living above him. Jing sighed and left the edge of his window, he ruffled his hair in a vain attempt of brushing them and took his white tunic. He put it on, the ragged linen robe falling right above his tights, on his loose linen pants. He settled his slash properly and left his room bare-feated.

To his surprise, his grandmother was awake. She was dandling in the kitchen, cutting peaches with great care, her work lightened by one single wavering candle. She looked odd in the dim-light of the dawn, there was something in her eyes that Jing had never seen before, something akin to fear. But what could she be afraid of? She spent most of her days with them, resting until her final breath, basking in peace. She was the eldest of their poor village. She was so old, in fact, that most people believed she already saw Ox-Head and Bull-Head and was intimate with them. Rumors, of course. Jing didn't partake in such baseless whispers. His grandmother was a good woman. She served their family dutifully and was simply awaiting for her fated end.

“Why do you look so tense, grandmother ?” Asked Jing as he approached her. She flinched, something unusual for her, and turned towards him with a tense smile. The expression was odd. As if it didn't belong on her wrinkled face. For a second Jing saw something overlapping with his grandmother's face, a wavering image of another, quickly brushed away by the candle flickering flame. Jing shook his head, perhaps he was still a bit drowsy, his mind was playing tricks on him.

“Why are you up so early?” Asked his grandmother, she eyed the peaches she cut for a bit, before finally taking one. Another oddness, his grandmother hated peaches, she found them too sweet. “You should be sleeping.”

Jing raised an eyebrow, something felt wrong, something was wrong. He hesitated a little, her bead-like eyes boring into his skin like an iron rod, before deciding that, mayhaps, he should return to his room. He eyed the way her teeth sinked into the juicy flesh, how sharp her teeth's edges were, almost like fangs, and gulped.

“I'm just… I heard a noise… I'll go back.” Mumbled Jing as he took a step back, sweat glistening on his forehead. His grandmother eyed him up and down, accessing something within her mind before shrugging and returning to her peaches.

“Yes, you should.”

Jing returned to his room with a nervous twitch in his fingers, he closed his door and went to his bed, eyes lost in the void. He flinched when he heard the sound of their house's main door opening, the old wood cracking in the silence. He closed his eyes when he heard the sky rumbling with thunder, shouts echoing outside of their house. He trembled at the sound of barking. When he dared to glance outside of his window, he saw a black-furred monkey wearing his grandmother's clothes being dragged in the sky by a man with three eyes.

Jing stayed paralyzed for an hour, eyes widened.

Later on that day, he and his family found their grandmother muzzled, sleeping peacefully in the attic. The very same attic his supposed grandmother decided to seal three months ago.

***

He was in prison.

Not that it was new, he often found himself in prison. Thrown in crass-covered floors, pushed behind cold wooden walls, left in the darkness. He was quite certain that, at this point, he visited every prison in China. He was a connoisseur of prisonnery art, if you could call him like that. He was intimate with the cangues, long time friends of the carved days on the wooden walls, and ally with the fleeting roaches stumbling inside of his cage. He knew it all by heart, the wooden cage almost more familiar than the outside world. Yet what he knew most about prisons was how to escape them. He was an artist in escapery, his claws sharpened specifically to pick on locks, his words carved to entice and lure the wandering wardens, his fur blackened to merge with the shadows and escape the nearby eyes. He was a monkey of many talents, and escapery was one of his best. What aided him the most in his escapery was his numerous ears. Six, three on each side of his head, able to hear from 600 li around him if he focused enough. It was particularly helpful to know warden' rounds and when to plot his escape, it was also great to blackmail the wardens, taunting them with their dirtiest secrets. After all, he could so easily let the fact that one slept with another wife fall out of his mouth.

Perhaps it was because he knew so much of prisons that he realized, the second he was thrown in this one, that he wouldn't be able to escape. It looked like any other prison with wooden walls, wetted floor and the rather pitiful sight of a slaughtered mat hidden in one corner. It was familiar. At least, he thought it was, until he tried to hear and was suffocated by silence. That never happened before, silence was unknown to him, something he never experienced in his whole life, until now. It was terrifying. To not be able to know what was going on outside of the cage, to hear nothing but his frantic heart and the blood flowing inside of his veins, he felt utterly alone. He was used to hearing everything, to hear the breaths of the ones besides him, to hear the numerous hearts of man's and animals, even the rush of water inside of plants. He was used to noise.

The black-furre monkey leaned on one of the walls and sat, his ears fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird, trying to catch even one speck of noise outside of his cage. He must be quite the sight. A monkey coated in his own blood, a red swelling bite mark on his torso, with ears vibrating like crazy.

A pitiful sight at most.

“Heaven's prisons are something else.” He chuckled as he looked up, the symbol of Heaven mocking him, carved on the ceiling like a brand of ownership. The symbol, like a lot of Chinese letters, made him think of rivers. One long stream separated at the foot in two different ways, cut at the middle by one short stroke, and at the top by another. It was almost sickening to see their pride as the great one. He had never thought much of the gods, not one to mess with the Region Above, not when he knew of their ruthlessness. He thought they would never act. They had never been one to mingle with the mortal realm. Perhaps, he took it too far… Or Heaven had plans for him. In any case, he had been captured and thrown here, that's all that mattered now.

He could only wait for his fate.

The black-furred monkey curled on himself, his long tail coiling at his feet, encircling him in a pitiful attempt of comfort. He buried his head in his knees and waited, ears still fluttering, in the mad hope of catching a whisper of his fate. The floor was cold, icing his butt so much he was sure the flesh was reddening. He had been stripped of his clothes after being captured, perhaps they had been afraid he hid something on himself. He was glad to have fur on his shoulders. From the look of the frost-covered bones besides the ragged mat, furless beings didn't last long here.

He exhaled, his breath cutting his lips, coming out in white puffs. He controlled his breathing, in and out, trying to reign in his feelings. He closed his eyes, letting darkness fall upon him, not that the wavering rays of light passing through the covered windows in front of his cage offered much to begin with.

The cangue which trapped his neck and wrists was not made of wood, like he was used to, but of cold metal. He was sure that if he wore it for too long, the fur under will disappear and leave in its wake only bruised skin. The metal was ice-cold, perhaps more than the floor, the coldness spread to his hands and head, enough to almost paralyzed them. He feared that he wouldn't feel them anymore if he stayed there any longer. He needed to move.

The prisoner looked up and glared at the front wall, he sensed that something was wrong with it, yet he wondered if he should still try and go against his keen instinct. He rose, his bones cracking each at a time, and walked towards the wall. The moment he tried to graze it with his tail, he was struck by a sudden pain and recoiled, as if burned. He looked at his tail and scowled when he saw his flesh reddening, it wasn't a feeling, he had been burned.

The one who thought of Heaven's prisons was a madman, internally cursed the black-furred monkey as he returned to his corner. He approached the ragged mat after a while and sniffed it, seeking warmth. He recoiled at the smell of disease and the sight of moths and stayed on the floor despite not feeling his butt anymore.

He waited patiently, hoping that he could trick the wandering wardens with enough luck. He waited but none came, none even bothered to bring him food. He was starved for four days, the fat on his body rapidly melting, leaving behind only a bag of fur and bones. He was feeling weaker and weaker with every passing hour. He relented and drank the water coming from the ceiling, despite it smelling rotten, and slept on the mat despite the filth. He ate the moths, trying to fill his body with something other than dry saliva. It was in the middle of the fourth day that someone finally came to him, someone he would rather avoid.

The macaque looked up from his ragged mat and narrowed his eyes at the newcomer, he was expressionless, armor catching the rare ray of light and absorbing them. Erlang looked good, despite being maimed four days ago, distantly the black-furred monkey had hoped the marks he left on the god's flesh would have lasted longer.

“Are you here to mock me?” Growled the prisoner, bead-like eyes glinting with murderous intent.

“You brought this on yourself, Six-eared Macaque.” Replied Erlang with an expressionless face. He opened his cell and walked towards him, steps echoing in the silence.

“Your lapdog isn't with you? What happened to it?” Sneered the macaque as the god got closer, Erlang glared at him with something akin to rage in his eyes. The macaque was genuinely glad Erlang's oversized dog wasn't here, the last time he crossed eyes with the beast, it had bitten him so hard its fangs broke almost every bone in his body.

“This doesn't concern you.” Spat Erlang as he crouched down before the prisoner. If the macaque wasn't tired and starved, he would bolt out of the cell. As it was, the black-furred monkey was weak and discouraged. Where would he even hide? He was in Heaven, in the Region Above, an entire different realm. Even if he escaped, he wouldn't be able to come down, he wouldn't know how. And even if he somehow managed to return to the mortal realm, Heaven would hunt him down for the remainder of his life. Perhaps the best course of action was to let them decide his fate. Erlang pulled on the chain tied to his cangue, the prisoner stumbled forward, forced out of his mat. He bared his fangs at the god in a weak attempt of intimidation but Erlang shrugged it off and pulled him out of the prison. They passed by other cages, each prisoner more pitiful than the last, before leaving the dungeons.

***

Heaven was a bright place. He didn't see much when he was dragged by the scarf of his neck and thrown in prison, too busy trying to bite and claw at Erlang. He couldn't see much this time either, his vision wavering because of his lack of proper food. But he did manage to notice the numerous palaces and terraces of the different Constellations and Stars Spirits.

Heaven was also loud. Now that he could finally properly hear, he was overwhelmed by waves upon waves of sounds. He didn't have time to regain his senses, he was already dragged around by the god. The black-furred monkey couldn't properly see where they were going, he was still railing with sensory overload, he only felt the pull of the chain becoming harsher and tighter if he dared to slow down even for a second. He at least noticed that they entered a lavish decorated palace called the Golden-gated Cloud Palace, the name carved on top of the front door. He was pulled inside, stumbling in the white corridors until they reached the Treasure Hall of Divine Mists, a white lavish room decorated with fiery red pillars and filled with Constellations and Stars Spirits. He was brought to his knees before a throne, heads pressed on the white stone-cold floor, still nude, bruised and imprisoned inside of the cangue.

“So this is the Six-eared Macaque?” The voice was deep, it resonated like thunder yet it held neither hatred nor anger. It was sharp, like the edge of a blade, but devoid of any pronounced feeling. The black-furred monkey tried to look up but he was still pushed down by Erlang. From under his sweat-covered lashes, he could only glimpse at the foot of the throne, a seat of gold and jade, carved with dragons. The feet of the Jade Emperor were lavish, at least the prisoner assumed it was the Jade Emperor. Who else could dare sit on this throne if not the Emperor of the gods? The hem of his robe was of the purest of gold, sawn by pearl-white threads, his shoes resembled the most intricate of woodwork, carved by the finest artisan. He distantly realized that the tip of the Emperor's foot was worth more than his entire life. The Constellations and Stars Spirits dispatched in the room, all perfectly aligned on each side of the throne, eyed him with warriness. Each one of his thrills made them flinch, the black-furred monkey didn't dare fathom why they seemed to fear him, what were they seeing instead of him? He never attacked Heaven nor showed his strength. He wasn't weak but he never abused his power, yet they looked at him as if they knew his nature. “Let the trial begin.” Those simple words made him shiver. A trial. They brought him to the feet of the Jade Emperor to judge him. Weren't they already aware of his crimes? Why would they bother with a trial? Mayhaps, it was a show of power, of humiliation, to put him in his place. It was the only reason that made sense in his opinion.

The prisoner was still not allowed to straighten, he heard someone walk towards him, their steps heavily resolved. The person stopped at his right. From the corners of his eyes the black-furred monkey recognized a pair of lavish feet and the low sweep of a lizard tail. They reeked of water, salted water to be more precise, the pure pearls sawn at the tip of the foot made him believe this was a Dragon King, those kinds of lavish ornaments weren't for anybody. He hoped it wasn't Aoquin, Dragon King of the South, but with his rotten luck and considering this was his trial, it was probably him.

“This wretched ape took my life for one year!” Accused the Dragon King, definitely Aoquin considering his lower tone and the way his voice echoed like the shrill scream of a hyena. The prisoner remembered when he disguised himself as Aoquin, it took him days to master his voice, finding the perfect pitch between a screeching cat and crays scratching a board. He did find it eventually and had in his search gained new respect for Aoquin, keeping such a voice was taxing on the throat. One of the Dragon King's feet was stomping on the snow-white floor, the black-furred monkey wanted to bite it, but he managed himself, he didn't want to aggravate his case.

“Do you have proof?” Asked the Jade Emperor, like always an example of true neutrality. The prisoner liked that about him, contrary to many mortal sovereigns that found themselves inflated by their position and used such occasions to showcase their power, the Jade Emperor cared about the result, there was a search for justice in the way he handled things. Mayhaps because he didn't get to the throne by birthright but by ongoing numerous tribulations, he didn't use his position to abuse others, especially during trials. It didn't mean he didn't have a sense of pride, the black-furred monkey heard enough tales to know that the Jade Emperor could be quick to anger if provoked.

The prisoner couldn't see, still pushed to the ground by Erlang, but he heard the familiar rustling of clothes (it sounded like silk, so perhaps Aoquin) and something being brought in the hall. He was rather curious. He wondered what the Dragon King brought to incriminate him. He probably prepared an entire speech devoted to putting him down, it was flattering in a way to be the object of such an intense obsession. If he wasn't a coward he'd mock the dragon by thanking him. As it was, the Six-eared Macaque was rather afraid of powerful beings such as the Jade Emperor, so he decided to stay still and obedient while he was under his gaze, hoping his fate would be kinder if he did.

“You see, it happened two years ago, in the middle of spring!” Began Aoquin, his voice softened by sorrow. The prisoner was certain it happened in the middle of winter but he let the dragon have his fun, what good were his words anyway? “I was relaxing in my crystal palace when this wretched ape came to my doors and asked for housing. I was surprised to see an ape in the middle of the water but I took pity on him and invited him in. He spent one week with me before departing. I thought we were friends! But the next day after his departure he secretly came to my room and knocked me out with some sleeping spell! He then tied me up and hid me under my own bed and took my appearances. He paraded as me for one year! Nobody even noticed the differences!! He messed with my domain, my finances, my harvests!! When he finally got sick of my life he left and my servants discovered me under the bed! My kingdom is in shambles because of him!” There were some inaccuracies here and there but for the most part it was true. It's not as if he wanted to leave Aoquin's kingdom in shambles, but it would have been idiotic to take over his life and not have fun with it. The whole point of taking another appearance is for pleasure. Either for luxury, glory or indulgences.

“What does the macaque have to say for his defense?” At the Jade Emperor's words, he was relieved of the crushing weight pushing him down and allowed to straighten. His back cried in pain as he slowly rose, his eyes roamed over the room, taking in the hall. They were more people than he thought, now that he narrowed his eyes he could also spot Constellations and Stars Spirits that lived in the Region Bellow. Was his trial so entertaining that even the far southward spirits came to witness it? He even spotted the bodhisattva Mansjuri among the rows of gods, his wheat colored face gleaming with this serene shine characteristic of buddhists disciples close to nirvana. The black-furred monkey gulped and turned towards the Jade Emperor, his face was of marbre, black beard shining like a river of ink, eyes boring into his skin. At the Emperor's side stood his prized advisor, the Gold Star of Venus, he was entirely dressed in white, his long hair and beard flowing on his shoulders like streams of snow.

“It is mostly true.” Muttered the prisoner, for what could he do but speak the truth? If he dared lie in this place his fate would worsen! The Emperor's face straightened at that, expression darkening.

“Erlang Shen, you were the one to capture the macaque, what do you have to say about his crimes?” Asked the Emperor, Erlang straightened, his arms tightly clasped behind his back in a very formal poise.

“I hunted the macaque for several days, he was posing as a common grandmother. He was rather… difficult to deal with… I had to borrow the wisdom of wind spirits to escape his hearing and Laozi diamond cutter to catch him. From my own investigation and the numerous rumors, he is known in the Region Below as the face-stealer, he had been captured numerous times by mortals but had always managed to escape one way or another.” Erlang Shen report was truthful and succinct, it held a hint of sharpness, perhaps the god still felt bitter about their strife. The black-furred monkey flinched when he felt the Emperor gaze pin him down, he knew what awaited him, but he at least hoped for some sort of mercy.

“Then he is found guilty. He should be executed for his crimes!” The sentence echoed in the room like thunder, the different gods all nodded eagerly, agreeing with the Emperor's verdict. The Gold Star of Venus frowned but he held his tongue, only gazing at the macaque with something akin to pity, more of the pity in losing a valuable asset than compassion itself. The prisoner shoulders lowered in defeat, he had hoped for mercy but as he expected Heaven was ruthless with criminals. It's not as if he wanted to make others suffer or spread misery, the only thing brewing inside of him was envy, it has always been nothing but envious acts. But when it comes down to it he did mess with people's lives, perhaps this was karmic retribution.

“Wait!” The cry pierced the hall, rumbling in the midst of whispers. The Emperor turned towards the one who dared to speak and frowned when he caught sight of the bodhisattva Guanyin. The prisoner turned towards her, surprised by her sudden outburst. She was graceful, her milk-white skin almost translucent, her movements weightless and her eyes filled with compassion. “How old are you?” She asked the macaque, her voice soothing like the kind swell of the sea.

“300 years old.” Carefully replied the black-furred monkey, he was immediately surprised by the gasps and whispers slithering in the room. Some dared to call him “a babe” and he had to bite his lips to restrain his growling. He wasn't an infant, far from it, he lived more than any other monkey in the mortal realm, perhaps because he wasn't exactly normal like any other. Celestials had an odd conception of time.

“Emperor, he's still very young, he has time to learn new ways. Perhaps, we should offer him a chance at redemption.” Proposed Guanyin. The prisoner perked up at the mention of redemption, he wasn't really convinced of mending his ways but the premise of escaping death was alluring all the same.

“How would you even try to change the ape? He's wretched.” Spat Aoquin, his arms crossed in anger. He averted his eyes when Guanyin turned towards him, even him wasn't presumptuous enough to glare at a bodhisattva.

“We could put him under the tutelage of the bimawen.” Guanyin's words silenced the hall, all gods and spirits stared at her with widening eyes. Even the Jade Emperor tensed in surprise. Aoquin almost choked on his own tongue, he then turned towards the prisoner with something akin to pity in his eyes. The black-furred monkey remembered hearing of this peculiar title, the spirits of the mortal realm whispered it with terror and reverence, but he never took the time to delve into the matter. Mayhaps he should have.

“Bodhisattva Guanyin, do you remember who the bimawen is?” Carefully asked the Emperor, there was something haunted in his eyes, as if he remembered a particularly challenging time.

“Precisely. It's because I remember that I am proposing this. Didn't the bimawen mend his ways? Perhaps, he would be able to guide the Six-eared Macaque.” Her words divided the hall, some found themselves agreeing with her logic while others thought it was terrible (they whispered about how putting two powerful beasts together could endanger the realms, but the black-furred monkey didn't pay attention, he was focused on the Emperor and his decision). The Gold Star of Venus leaned in the Emperor's ears and whispered. The prisoner opened his ears to catch his words. “Emperor” he began “The bimawen had been pestering us for attendants for a while, perhaps this could be an occasion. Moreover the Six-eared Macaque gift could be of great use to us.” The Jade Emperor frowned at those words, he turned towards the macaque and eyed him up and down, his gaze piercing every inch of the black-furred monkey. The prisoner remained still, trying to look as harmless as he could. “Who shall be the one to warn the bimawen of this?” Asked the Jade Emperor, silence prevailed in the room, every gods and spirits averted their eyes, hoping to not be chosen.

“I will.” Sighed Guanyin. “I will take care of this matter and present the Six-eared Macaque to the bimawen.” The Jade Emperor seemed greatly satisfied by her answer, he closed the trial with one flick of wrist and settled on his throne eased. The prisoner was pulled forward by Erlang Shen, the god gripped his chain and gazed at him with narrowed eyes. From this close, he could see the third eye resting on the god's forehead, the fiery pupil boring into him. Erlang then proceeded to pull him towards Guanyin, his chains creating noise in the silence. Erlang stopped before the bodhisattva and nodded respectfully, the black-furred monkey gulped once her shadow was cast on his small body. As a monkey he was less than four chi tall, everyone constantly towered above him no matter what he tried to do. Only children were of his height.

“Do you want me to accompany you in case this ape causes you some problems, bodhisattva Guanyin?”

“No need, Erlang Shen.” Replied Guanyin with serenity. “The Six-eared Macaque will be well in my hands.” Erlang, though reluctant, nodded and let the macaque go. He threw one last warning gaze at him before turning around and leaving, his footsteps heavy in the halls.

“Follow me, Six-eared Macaque.” The prisoner rushed to follow after her retreating figure, chasing after the hem of her pearl-white robe. At her side walked Hui'an, one of her loyal disciples, and Mansjuri, one of her Buddhist brothers. The black-furred monkey didn't even dare to lift his head once they left the Treasure Hall of Divine Mists, he was still nude and stuck inside of his cangue, he did not dare to do anything in this state.

***

Guanyin summoned her cloud bathed in auspicious lights and settled on it gracefully. Hui’an sat beside her and Mansjuri mounted his blue-furred lion. The prisoner hesitated before slowly stepping on the bodhisattva's cloud, the texture was soft yet firm, like bouncing water. He quietly sat behind Guanyin, his long tail curled around his naked butt as he tried to shield himself from the breeze of Heaven. As the cloud soared above the Region, he kept his head low, not wanting to cross eyes with any wandering gods.

Guanyin stepped out of her cloud before a smaller palace colored like jade and pearl, above the pearl-white doors were inscribed : Palace of Compassion. The prisoner awkwardly followed the goddess as the doors of the Palace opened. Contrary to the Jade Emperor palace, this one was less filled, some attendants were cleaning the corners of the humble corridors but not that many. Guanyin stopped walking before a carmin door and ordered her disciple with a single gesture. “Clean and clothe him, we will find the bimawen tomorrow morning.” The black-furred monkey watched until he couldn't see her robe flowing on the cleaned tiles, her Buddhist brother at her side. He was pulled inside of the room by Hui’an and some nearby attendants. They prepared a bucket filled with mid-warm clear water and pushed him to the corner of the room, where the floor was made of wood. They plunged a white cloth in the water and slowly began to clean him, passing the cloth on his bruised skin. He flinched, not used to the contact, and instinctively tried to recoil.

“Do not fret, we will not harm you.” Mumbled Hui’an, his sleeve raised to his elbows, hands wetted by the water. It was odd to be tented by him, if he recalled right, Hui'an was the second son of Devaraja Li, also known as Prince Moksa. He was far from being a nobody, yet he followed the bodhisattva, embracing his Buddhist name, Hui'an, wholeheartedly, tending to him, a monster monkey. The black-furred monkey couldn't help but flinch each time Hui'an touched him. The disciple sighed once he saw his reaction, compassion on his lips, very much like his master. He couldn't understand why they showed him so much kindness. He wasn't a good person by all means. Yet it did make his heart shiver pleasantly, he shoved the feeling deep down in his psyche before it could blossom in something more.

“We have to bandage his wound and… do something about this cangue.” Called one attendant, she was carefully washing his back, her round eyes narrowing now and then every time she stumbled upon one of his scars.

“Bring medical supplies and someone goes to the prison, asks for the key to his cangue!” Ordered Hui'an, the attendants nodded and rushed out of the room. The black-furred monkey narrowed his eyes at the mention of the key to his cangue, but he dared not to speak. His fate was in those people's hands, he might as well let them do as they pleased. Nonetheless, Hui'an noticed his discomfort, he put one of his hands on the prisoner's shoulders and squeezed it, a meaningless gesture of consolation, the black-furred monkey found it more uncomfortable than anything. He curled on himself, back pressed to the wall, and waited patiently for this to end. Hui'an looked at him with pity, again, and took the bucket, now filled with filthy water. He walked to the end of the room and opened the door leading to the inner garden of the palace, he hesitated after taking one step out, gaze lingering on the prisoner.

“I'm not gonna flee.” Sighed the black-furred monkey with furrowed eyebrows. Hui'an averted his eyes, almost ashamed, and stepped outside to empty the bucket. He was left alone for a few minutes, he observed the room, noticing how it wasn't much filled. Perhaps Guanyin wasn't one for fancy decorations. He wondered what his life would be like now. Was he fated to cater the whims of this so-called bimawen for the reminder of his existence? Who was even this guy? He heard of a lot of things in his life but he wasn't powerful enough to eavesdrop on the Region Above, everything that happened in Heaven was unattainable for his ears. As such, he truly had no idea about this strange title that seemed to scare spirits and gods alike. By thoughts alone, it should have something to do with horses. If bi meant avoiding, if ma meant horse, and if wen meant plague, then by pure logic it meant : To avoid the horse plague. Was it a title meant for some sort of horse doctor ? He mulled over the subject for a bit and frowned at some of his thoughts. Did they push him on this so-called bimawen to mock him? He knew some of the mortals' beliefs. He ought to after living among them for so long. As such he knew putting a female monkey in stables was considered a sign of good luck for the horses’ health. Somehow, they believed the blood shed by female monkeys’ on their menstruation circle infused the hay with some sort of healing property. The macaque couldn't really understand this belief, blood was blood, no matter the species, but mortals, in particular humans, tended to have the strangest minds. Were they mocking him by putting him under the bimawen orders? He frowned at the thought, even if he was quite the coward, he loathed to be made fun of the most.

Hui'an returned shortly after his musing, bucket filled anew with clear water, the attendants arrived a few minutes after him with arms entirely full. They put the clothes aside, and began to carefully put a shooting balm on his bruised skin, and then bandage his wounds. The most prominent was the bite swelling on his chest and the traces of the cutter on his back, it marred his skin with red, becoming white at the edges due to his poor hygiene. Once again, he endured the touches without liking it, bearing every graze with bitten lips. They sometimes wetted the bandages with water, but it did nothing to appease him. Once he was more or less healed, one attendant approached with a charcoal-black key in her hands. Hui'an took it carefully and slowly removed his cangue. He shivered once the cold metal hit the soft floor of the room, its sight unnatural within the light colors of the palace. As he expected, the skin under the cangue was marred by red and progressively swelling, his luscious black fur dried and abused by the metal. One attendant dutifully cleaned his neck and wrists with a cloth drenched in clear water, then Hui'an applied the soothing balm. Once he was deemed healed they helped him put on the hanfu they prepared for him. He wasn't used to the softness of the tissue, nor the pale green of it, it shone brightly against his midnight fur. It felt good to not be nude anymore, he hadn’t realized how vulnerable he had felt without any clothes on his shoulders before being properly dressed.

Hui'an nodded to the attendants in thanks before gesturing for the macaque to follow him outside of the room. The black-furred monkey wanted to stay and curl in one corner, let the darkness cover him, but he pushed past those urges and followed Guanyin's disciple outside. They wandered in the palace humble corridors in silence, their steps echoing on the wooden walls.

“I didn't know that the bodhisattva Guanyin had a palace in Heaven.” Mumbled the prisoner, he needed something to fill the silence, the lack of noises reminded him of the four days he spent locked in the silent prison.

“She doesn't reside here. The Jade Emperor offered it to her, but she spent most of her time on Potalaka Mountain.” The prisoner nodded at that, some deep part of himself whined a little at the thought of not seeing her anymore (not a lot of people stuck out their neck for him in his lifetime) but he quickly shook his head to brush away the thought, attachment was dangerous, he shouldn't indulge this part of himself. Sometimes, he loathed the part of himself that required company, for he knew enough by now to understand that bonds were weaknesses. “We should feast, and then I'll guide you to your bed. We will head to the bimawen tomorrow morning.” The prisoner nodded, the idea of food immediately raising his spirits. Hui'an guided him to a larger room, one with a wide wooden table. Guanyin and her Buddhist brother Mansjuri were already sitting before the table, strangely enough they did not touch the food. Hui'an bowed the second he spotted them, the black-furred monkey awkwardly followed his lead and bowed despite his injuries crying in pain. They settled before the two bodhisattvas and quietly ate the vegetarian dishes. The prisoner eyed Hui'an from the corner of his eyes and followed his leads when it came to table manners, he had no idea on what was the custom in the Region Above and he refused to make a fool of himself by eating like he always did. He used the spoon when Hui'an used it, the fork when he used it, the glass when he used it, and ate the same amount as him.

Vegetarian dishes tasted blend, he was not used to the lightness of it. He preferred the heaviness of meat most of the time, not caring if his cannibalism tendencies spoiled his breath. But he was very much aware that he couldn't practice this sort of diet in Heaven, as such he gulped the dishes despite wanting to vomit at the taste of them. He noticed rather quickly that the bodhisattvas weren't touching any dishes, he wondered if their buddhists teaching really stripped them of any earthly desires, even one as instinctual as hunger, it was an odd existence to consider.

“Are you not curious about why you are here?” The macaque flinched at the voice, he lifted his head and crossed eyes with Mansjuri, his gaze, like any bodhisattva, held nothing but endless patience and closeness to true peace. He was leaning over the table, his amber skin gleaming under the room's dim light, one of his hands rested lazily over the hilt of his sword.

“Brother, I do not think he is aware of his ability.” Quietly replied Guanyin.

“Mayhaps it has not manifested yet. I thought you were all-hearing.” Softly mumbled Mansjuri, his voice serene like the blossom of peaches dancing in the spring breeze.

“How are you both aware of my abilities?” Spoke the macaque, contrary to what they seemed to believe, he wasn't all-hearing, not in the least. But they spoke as if his nature had no secrets. Perhaps, as bodhisattvas they did have the possibility to peek at the secrets veiled by the universe, but even then, it was rather suspicious.

“When the Dragon King, Aoquin, sent a formal complaint about you, Heaven learned of your existence for the very first time. Based on tumultuous past experiences with monkeys, they seeked knowledge about you. Buddha Tathagata was the one to reveal your nature… and it worried Heaven.” Replied Hui'an as he laid down his dish. It explained a few things, as expected, if he hadn't bothered Aoquin, none of this would have even happened.

“What did the Buddha say?” Asked the prisoner, curious about his own nature.

“He qualifies you as a macaque with a sensitive ear, a discernment of fundamentals principles, a knowledge of past and future and a comprehension of all things.” the black-furred monkey cheeks burned at Mansjuri words. He wasn't presumptuous enough to question Buddha's words, but still he wasn't as great as what he was described as. He could glimpse in the past and the future, but it never lasted long. Perhaps, his abilities would grow with him, and one day he would embody Tathagata words. For now, he was nothing but a less-than-four-chi macaque with multiple pairs of ears. The rest of the feast was spent in silence, Hui'an guided him to a bed after this and left him in peace.

The prisoner collapsed on the wooden bed, his body still aching. He did not take the time to change, uncaring of this sort of thing, and closed his eyes. He didn't really know what to think anymore. If it was up to him, he'd spend his whole life indulging in pleasure, uncaring of others. But he had to think of his survival here. If there was one thing that could push him to let go of his ways, it was the fear of dying. He raised his spirits by telling himself that the bimawen could be kinder than most thought. It was his last silver if hope in this unfamiliar place, surrounded by people he did not trust. He curled in the sheet, relishing in the softness, it was almost painful with how unfamiliar it was. He laid his head on the wooden pillow and sighed. He didn't sleep much, a few hours at best, and stayed in his bed until Hui'an went to wake him up. Guanyin's disciple winced at his state, probably because the macaque didn't take the time to change before going to bed. He offered him a carmin hanfu in the guise of clothing and helped him change. Once he was properly dressed they headed to eat some breakfast, the black-furred monkey forced himself to swallow some dishes, perhaps vegetarian food will be easier to digest the more he tried.

Guanyin and Mansjuri looked the same as yesterday, perfect and serene in the way they held themselves. It was unsettling to not see one wrinkle on their skin, nor one sign of exhaustion. They looked anything but humans. But yet it would have been weirder if they did. They were above, close to reaching enlightenment, but deciding to stop in their own path to buddhahood to guide mortals. He couldn't understand this show of compassion, he couldn't understand the need to help others. All his life, the only thing that has ever mattered for him was himself. He never felt anything for others, and even if he did try, in the first years of his existence, it became fruitless. He lived for himself, basking in his own selfishness. He never thought of others nor of the consequences of his actions.

“Why do you help me?” Asked the prisoner once they finished their breakfast, unable to help himself after musing for so long on the uselessness of compassion. Both bodhisattva looked at him with softened eyes. He didn't like it. He loathed that look. He wanted to claw at their faces. Ruin their perfect skin, white as the moon for her, tan like the sun for him. He hated it. Why were they so impeccable? He wanted to make them bend, he was tired of looking up at everyone coming his way.

He wanted to spoil them, like he was spoiled, yet he restrained himself, for he was afraid of punishment.

“Because you need it.” Replied Mansjuri, his voice soft as always, yet firm, each word said with his utmost belief.

“Everyone can change.” Added Guanyin with a smile fresh as the first peaches of the spring harvest.

The macaque lips tightened, growls on the tip of his tongue. It didn't make any sense. They didn't make any sense. How could such selfless beings even exist? Perhaps, that was the divide between mere mortals and bodhisattvas, their intentions unfathomable for the likes of him. His eyebrow twitched angrily at the thought. He loathed to be looked down upon. He tightened his fists and hid it inside of his sleeves.

He needed to control himself.

***

Both bodhisattvas left the Palace of Compassion soon after breakfast, the macaque followed the hem of their robes, running after them, like the hound chasing the prize. Like always, Hui'an was at Guanyin's side, walking alongside her with ease. They summoned their clouds and Manocalmed for his lion, the black-furred monkey once again settled in the back of Guanyin's. If he was bolder, he would settle on the front, feel the wind in his fur, admire Heaven from above, but as it was he didn't want to anger them. The travel was incredibly short, the clouds fast enough to reach all corners of Heaven in a matter of minutes. Bodhisattvas and disciples stopped before a lavish mansion, it looked like it was made of stones but polished until it shone brighter than any jewels. The macaque wondered if the one living in this place wanted to capture all the rays of the sun, because each time light fell on the stone it became trapped within the smooth surface, making it shine even brighter. The roof was made of striking red tiles decorated with statues of monkeys. All monkeys were carved with joy on their faces, sculpted to be playing on the edge of the roof, running across the tiles with laughter. Plants and flowers bloomed at the foot of the door, completely untamed, creating a path of lush grass. Twenty four lances with banners screaming BIMAWEN were planted in front of the gates. Hui'an took the golden hoop resting on the stone gates and knocked, the sound echoing in the peaceful silence.

The prisoner suddenly heard whispers blooming behind the door, surprisingly enough they all sounded the same, as if a hoard of twins lived in this place. After a few minutes, the doors bursted open, violently slammed by a blonde-furred monkey dressed in red. The lavish round-neck robe looked ruffled, as if he slept with it, and his soft-winged futou was falling on one side of his head, unable to contain his knotted mane. His face was ball-like round and incredibly hairy, he had the beak of a thunder god and forked ears pointing towards the sky. His cheeks along with his body were sunken, almost as if someone dug into his very flesh. His fur was lush, abondant, so much that the macaque felt like he could drown in it. The monkey nodded at the two bodhisattvas (but unlike any other he did not bow) and smiled broadly at them, his upward fangs glinting under Heaven's halo.

“Bimawen.” Respectfully greeted Guanyin. “You weren't at the Jade Emperor audience yesterday.”

“The Jade Emperor does those things too early, it's never of great importance for me anyway.” Shrugged the blonde-furred monkey, seemingly unfearful of Heaven's wrath.

“This one would have. The Jade Emperor decided to heed your request and give you an attendant.” Added Mansjuri as he softly gestured towards the macaque. The bimawen brightened considerably, his eyes quickly falling upon the prisoner’s figure. The macaque felt uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny, he averted his eyes and bit his lips.

“That's good! It was time! Why is he so ugly though?” the black-furred monkey furiously perked up at the insult. Yes, he was perhaps not at his best, not after being starved for four days, but still it was incredibly rude. He glared at the blonde monkey, his eyes narrowed in slits.

“You're the ugly one.” He spat, fangs bared. The bimawen's good-natured expression immediately darkened, he glared at the macaque, his own fangs bared. The macaque flinched and ran behind Guanyin, hiding behind her white robe.

He messed up.

+ some notes to understand

Region Above : Heaven

Ox-Head and Bull-Head : The two servants of Yama who bring the dead souls in the underworld. There are several stories of people coming back to life and claiming to have seen those two monsters.

Cangue : wooden pillory used to shackle the wrists and neck

Li : Ancient Chinese measurement, 1 li = 576 meters

Bodhisattva : Buddhist sage who is very close to buddhahood but decided to stop to guide the others.

Chi : Ancient Chinese measurement 1 chi = 31,8cm (12,3in); 10 chi = 1 zhang ; 1 zhang = 3,18m (10,43ft) ; 1m = 3 chi. Here, less than four chi = less than 1,3m.

Next