#Silver Rat Demon

[the-monkey-ruler]

Sun Wukong Raids the Bottomless Pit (1983) 孙悟空大闹无底洞

Director: Li Zexiang Screenwriter: Fang Xianglong Starring: Ding Bolu / Ding Bofu / Li Xiaohua / Han Fengyun / Zhan Hui / Yan Shuqi / Sun Aizhen / Shi Fengying / Xie Guangsheng / Zhu Lili / Zhang Wanfa / Huan Xuanhua / Li Shaowen Genre: Opera Country/Region of Production: Mainland China Language: Mandarin Chinese Also known as: 孫悟空大鬧無底洞 Type: Retelling

Summary:

The Golden Rat Demon led a group of demons to occupy the bottomless cave of Xiankong Mountain, and planned to capture Tang Monk, marry him first and then eat his flesh, in order to achieve immortality and become an immortal. The Golden Rat Demon seduced Tang Monk in every possible way, and then went to the hall to force him to marry. But Tang Monk was only thinking about the scriptures, and his Zen heart was not moved. The Golden Rat Demon finally became angry and wanted to cook and eat Tang Monk. When Sun Wukong came back from begging for food, he learned that his master was taken away by the demon again. He was very anxious and beat the mountain god with a stick. Only then did he know that his master was taken away by the Golden Rat Demon, the owner of the bottomless cave of Xiankong Mountain thousands of miles away.

He immediately led his junior brothers Bajie and Sha Seng to explore the cave. During the process of Wukong and Bajie looking for their master, Bajie was confused by the demon fire and was captured by the demon, and Wukong was almost destroyed by the thousand-jin gate. It turned out that the Golden Rat Demon had a red fire pill with boundless magic power, which made it difficult for Wukong and Bajie to deal with. Wukong had no choice but to ask for help from Guanyin of the South China Sea and got a treasure bottle. At the critical moment when the Golden Rat Demon ordered to cook and eat Tang Sanzang and Bajie, Wukong turned into a bee and went into the cave for the second time to save his master. Tang Sanzang and Bajie had no hope of survival, and the Golden Rat Demon was very proud. Sun Wukong showed his true form and accused the Golden Rat Demon of forcing Tang Sanzang to marry him, which had violated the heavenly law. He persuaded the Golden Rat Demon to change his mind and release his master.

The Golden Rat Demon relied on the Red Fire Pill to defeat Wukong again. Wukong was enraged and started killing again. He waved the golden hoop and swept through the monsters. Sha Seng and Bajie took the opportunity to save Tang Sanzang. The Golden Rat Demon knew that it was difficult to win with swords and weapons, so he once again offered the Red Fire Pill. In an instant, the whole cave was on fire and smoke was everywhere. When Bajie saw the fire, he pulled Sha Seng and ran away. Wukong offered the Guanyin treasure bottle in the fire, and the treasure bottle poured down from the air to release the huge waves of the East China Sea, which immediately extinguished the demon fire and drowned the monsters.

The Golden Rat Demon threw out two embroidered shoes and turned into his own image. The three golden rat monsters fought against Wukong, Bajie and Sha Seng, but were eventually suppressed by weapons. The golden rat monsters knelt down and begged for mercy, but Wukong swung his stick and beat them down. Guanyin came and asked Wukong to show mercy and hand over the golden rat monsters to her to be taken back to heaven for punishment. Wukong obeyed. Guanyin took the boy and the dragon girl to capture the golden rat monsters and returned to the South China Sea. Tang Monk and his three disciples once again embarked on the long journey to the West to obtain scriptures.

Source: https://chinesemov.com/1983/Sun-Wukong-Raids-the-Bottomless-Pit

Link: N/A

[whereserpentswalk]

Look under the cut to see what meeting your entity is like. Reblog to give a gift to your patron.

The fae: a creature stands before you. Though this street was warm and crowded a few moments ago it is suddenly cold and the people around you look like shadows. The creature begins an antlered shadow with glowing white eyes, but soon its body can be seem, with white blue flesh, and sapphire eyes, and icicles for teeth. What looks like a cloak unfolds from its naked body and you can see massive white wings of a moth. As if it's an act of sacrifice you tell it your true name, a name you didn't even see before, and suddenly you belong to it, for better or worse.

The angel: a radiant entity appears before you. They're bright, like something so hot it would burn you up. But as the light fades, you can see a person in silver armor, perfect yet inhuman like am ancient green statue, their back srouting six wings with blue eyes along them, as the eyes on their head are covered by a mask of two smaller wings. The creature offers their hands and you shake it, as they fly you through the city streets and above the skyscrapers, to the stars above and dimensions beyond, to gods living and dead, across the streets of alien cities and the clouds of dead worlds. And when you return to the earth you can feel something diffrent about you, like there's light in your blood.

The scavenger: below the lights of skyscrapers beyond you, on the dark sands of the beach, you see it crawling twords you. This serpentine creature with countless legs, and a dark black shell, yet a strangely human like face. You think it'll attack or run away, but it just looks at you, egar, and for a momment you stare at eachother. It's legs pass something to eachother and then to you, it's meat but it's shining with all the colors known to the human eye, and a few more. You hold it and it happily looks at you. You take a bite and suddenly you know... you know so very much...

The vampire: she flies down to you on green wings with orange eyespots, but folds them into her back. She looks like a human for a momment, tall and strong, with a black suit over her body, but eyes the color of ruby. For a momment her mouth opens, and it's massive and monstrous, with countless moving parts and fangs. But then it folds back onto something humanoid and she gives you a playful smirk. She cuts her hand and offers you her blood, and when you drink it it tastes so sweet, and makes you feel so good. She hands you the knife and you know to do the same, and when she drinks from your palm it's life the sweetest of kisses.

The djinn: the room wirs around you. If it were not for the fans it would feel like hellfire. For a momment there it darkness, but then the screen before you glows white like smokeless flame. You can sense something inside, something beyond the code. You reach your hand within it, and there's no glass, your hand passess right through until you're in a white void of your own making. You call out, thinking there is nothing at all around you. Yet somehow something calls back, something that knows your name.

The rat king: You see him in an empty subway station. Something dark and distorted, you're not sure if he's man or animal, covered in rags, and singing in the language of the goblins and the orcs. Yet he comes close to you excited. And you can feel his song. He calls for you to come to the train tracks, and let yourself run with the rats and the roaches, where the train will pass over you when it comes, and you'll live forever. When you touch the third rail you don't die, but you'll never be human again.

The lich: the library is strangely bright. Run by skeletons in suits, decorated with gold. There are more books here then you thought were in all the world. There's knowledge here most mortals will never have the change below, all kept safe below the city. You see her, her body doesn't look human, everything has been replaced making her look more like a joining white doll then a being of flesh. Yet she is dead, you can tell that under the porcelain skin she must be dead, she is dead, and there is the tragedy of death in her eyes. You come closer to her, and she places a black rose within your hair...

The demon: You stand in his office and he stands before you, a humanoid being covered in black scales, with red eyes covering his skin. Yet none are on his head, that remains featureless save for two massive horns. Wings on his back nearly surround you. Countless souls line the walls of his office, looking at you, waiting. After you sign your name you give him yours, you can feel it come away for you forever and your eyes grey and your skin pales. But he puts the jar in a special place for you, you're spacial, he can tell there's something about you that he likes.

The mushroom lord: you walk through the darkness of the forest, the furthest from civilization you have ever been. You come upon a part where the trees all seem dead, that even the cryptids won't go near. Mushrooms fill the ground, and white vein like lines are all over the trees. You feel the need to lay down, and you let the moss and the mushrooms and the worms surround you, and let yourself sink into the soil,, and it feels good. It feels so good...

The witch: You can see them in the Cafe next to you, skinny and small, with a sweatshirt over most of their body, and dark glasses over their eyes. They seem powerful though, and though their body looks young they seem ancient, they seem beyond humanity. You talk to them and they tell you things, and secrets, lost gods, things you never knew you didn't know, both beautiful and disturbing. When it's time for them to go they pet your head, and give you their number. You don't know if you should text them, but you have to, you have to see them again, there's something about them that makes you need to know.

The living clothing: you step into it at first, it looked like a puddle yet shining like silver or chrome. But soon it surrounds you, first just your torso, but soon your head, your entire body. But it doesn't feel scary, it feels like you're being held, held by something beyond your understanding. It whispers to you, and you don't know if you should feel like your being eaten alive, or like you're being protected. You can't help but keep walking.

The abyss: the void is before you, blackness beyond blackness, like the color beyond the field of your vision, stands before your eyes. You stare at it, it's nothing yet you're entranced. It stares back...

[robin374]

𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖆 𝖋𝖔𝖔𝖑 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖕 𝖆 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Alastor x reader, romatic

𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰: I think we all agree that Alastor would say this phrase. Maybe I got too carried away, sorry if it's too long. Unedited

Carmilla waited for all the overlords to arrive and take their respective seats. Her silver eyes serenely observed the situation, while she prepared her probable monologue in her mind. A war would be one of the worst options to choose. They had already lost many souls since the last extermination, and losing even more would serve no purpose, except to amuse the angels. All the powerful demons sat down and Carmilla waited a few seconds for the various conversations between them to end, seeing that she got nothing waiting she coughed to get the attention of her companions. "I have gathered you here today to discuss this year's brutal extermination..." She began to explain, her eyes full of determination with a subtle light of hatred, which was directed towards the cruel exterminators up there. 

Suddenly, the door opened with a loud bang and two shadows appeared; one taller than the other. The little fashionista Velvette, a member of the Vees, appeared first with a superior smile on her face. With her back stretched and chin held high, she pulled the metal chain around her hand, causing the other shadow to walk involuntarily. However, the big difference between the two demons was that one of them was walking with her head down, as if she had been defeated and humiliated in front of all Hell, as if she was going to be sacrificed. Carmilla scowled at Velvette which diverted the attention of the other overlords and they looked towards the fashionista. Y/N didn't look up, she had already felt too ridiculed on the way there to feel even more so under the gaze of the other overlords. Especially under his gaze, under that smile that conveyed no feelings at all. 

"Speaking of the exterminators..." Velvette's distinctive accent echoed through the room, no overlord daring to speak. Anyone could cut the tension in that room with a butter knife. Y/N didn't even flinch at the confident sound of the voice, she was now as vulnerable as a puppy just abandoned on a highway. A few thumps accompanied the fashionista's small laugh, thumps that sounded too soft to be a blow from a fist but too hard to be a single piece of flesh. A golden drop landed on Y/N's slipper, she swallowed dryly, feeling closer and closer to the permanent presence of eternal death. Ironic, isn't it? A dead girl being afraid to die. She didn't hear the next sentences of the argument between the two overlords, she was too focused on the pain of the silver chains around her wrists behind her back. Never in eternity had she thought that being in hell she would burn, let's just say those holy chains silenced those thoughts for her. 

Velvette needed only a single tug on the chain to smash Y/N's face into the long table in the living room. Her hand pressed her face against the hard material, it looked like she wanted to put her face through the table. Y/N's gaze jumped from overlord to overlord, she knew full well that none of them would help her. "She was the one who killed that flying rat." Velvette began. "If those...Things can die, we're in a whole different situation." She paused for a moment, "we could start a war..." She turned to look at Y/N, her gaze as callous as her actions. "Not without killing this bitch first, it wouldn't suit us well for a girl as normal as you to get all the fame, what would my fans say?" His voice became a bit sharper, clearly seeking more attention than he already had.

Y/N looked away, her eyes fell on a spot between the ceiling and the window of the room, she didn't want to see how the overlords looked at her as if she was a mere bug, which they had no intention of keeping alive. She noticed her vision blurring, she knew these would be her last moments, as Velvette kept her word whenever it would do her good. "Who's for killing her and dropping her body in the nearest trash? Right where she deserves." The room was filled with murmurs and different conversations, some agreed with the fashionista, while others did not. Y/N had stopped listening long ago, she had accepted her permanent death since Velvette found her near the angel's body. She hadn't done it, she was just being more noisy than she normally was, not everyone gets the chance to see a dead exterminator, no? It was just bad luck, she wasn't the culprit, "It wasn't me..." She whispered in an attempt to get someone to listen to her, but these were overlords we're talking about, they wouldn't hesitate to kill someone. That's how ambitious they could be to have more power in their hands.

The sound of radio static came on, which was getting closer and closer. The pressure on Y/N's head disappeared in less than a second, and for a moment she thought she had finally been killed and her thoughts were slowly leaving her head as she completely lost consciousness. However, one hand helped her up, and even with her hands still tied she met those red eyes she loved to stare into so often in the hotel. With the other hand, Alastor pushed Velvette away from her, "I'll take care of it." 

The last thing to go. That demon Y/N thought she loved was going to betray her as soon as she left the building. She felt his hand brush against her back as he silently guided her through the halls of the building until he was outside. Once there he began to walk towards a particular direction. Y/N stopped in her tracks, confused. Maybe what she was about to say would be a big mistake, maybe she shouldn't say anything to stay alive, though curiosity killed the cat, right?

"You're not going to kill me? Kill me and then drop me in the middle of the street?" She watched as the Radio Demon's back tensed, and so did his ears. As much as she didn't see his face, she knew that smile twisted into an irritated one. He turned around slowly, and that annoyed smile softened the moment their eyes connected. He laughed softly and moved closer to the girl, his free hand coming to her cheek. "Only a fool would drop a girl like you." He smiled. That sentence made Y/N ironically feel like she was in heaven, a strange warmth rose to her cheeks. She heard the laughter of the overlord who was now offering his arm to walk beside him, "Alastor, my hands are chained." Y/N began, "I can't hold your arm."

[irishmammonagenda]

"Solomon?" You ask, eyes unblinking like a lizard as you stare at your favourite Rat Bastard. "You know how you're immortal?"

Solomon turns to you in mock shock, "Really? Why I never wouldve guessed."

You deadpan. "It was a serious question."

Solomon smirks his usual evil smirk, which to anyone else observing would look like a pleasant smile. "Yes, and what about me being immortal, MC?"

"Well, did you ever know Merlin?" You tilt your head as Solomon's smile falters for a split second before he fixes it.

"..."

"Solomon?"

"Yes, I knew Merlin."

"Before or after you became a Rat Bastard?" You ask him, eyes trained on his pretty smile. (evil grin)

"Well...I may or may not've been good friends with him..."

"Do you think I could meet him?" You ask, bouncing one of your legs after you sit down on Solomon's workbench.

Solomon moves towards you, something flashing in his eyes for a split second before his hands find their rightful place around your waist. "No."

"Why not?" You pout.

"Because I'm the only famous sorcerer in your life." He states, that something flashing in his eyes once more. Something animalistic. If Solomon was a demon, you were sure his demon form would sprout out.

"What about Maddi?" You raise an eyebrow.

Solomon scoffs. "You hate Maddi. You put on a mask with Michael's face on it, and then tried to drown her in a ditch."

You shrug. "I'm just mad the bitch didn't drown."

"She did damage her oesophagos though." Solomon smiles evilly, actually evilly this time.

"So why can't I meet Merlin. I want his autograph." You bring th conversation back to the topic at hand, your flustered gaze trained to where the Great Sorcerer holds you by the waist possessively.

Solomon scoffs once more, grey eyes narrowed in on you. "And why do you want his autograph?"

"Because he's the greatest sorcerer to ever live? Duh."

Solomon's grip tightens at that. His brows furrow.

"...No he's not." The silver-haired sorcerer replies after an awkward moment of silence.

"Yes he is."

"No he's not." Solomon glares at you, grip tightening once more, it's almost painful. "I can give you my autograph if you yearn for one that badly. End of."

"But-" You pout, eyes flickering with the flame of mischief, wanting to see how far you can take this.

Solomon's eyes snap up and down your body before meeting your gaze, forcefully he moves closer to you, you lean back until he's directly in your face and your back is up against the surface of his workbench.

You feel his hot breath on your ear as he whispers, "The next words out of your mouth better be 'I love you Solomon!' or I'm not hearing them."

Your breath hitches, you suppress a grin, "It's just that-"

"Not hearing it."

"Emrys is just so cool-"

Solomon flicks you on the head for that one. He moves away from your ear so he can look at your face. Grey eyes instinctual and crazed.

"My darling apprentice....you don't want to know where this is headed." The Witty Sorcerer grits out, emphasising the word 'my' like it's an ancient incantation.

You stiffen, you've really done it now. There was no way you could keep teasing your favourite Michelin Star Murderer and come out unscathed.

A dark purple surrounds the sorcerer, are those flames?!

You pout, looking into the crazed feral eyes man who's about to lose control. You'd have to stop being a gremlin and take responsibility.

"Sol...I love you." You say, and you mean it.

And like clockwork, rhe dark purple flamey aura disappears, Solomon's grip loosens on you, he moves a little farther back, allowing you to get up off the surface of the workbench. His usual Rat Bastard smile returns, and the crazy feral look in his eyes diminish, never fully going away.

You raise an eyebrow teasingly, "So that's a no on meeting Merlin?"

Solomon sighs exasperatedly, love ever-present in his expression, "Forget Thirteen, you'll be the death of me."

You laugh, "Back to your Alchemy lesson now?"

Solomon chuckles. "Back to my Alchemy lesson." He nods, taking his hands off of you and walking over to his cauldron.

You follow him like a lost puppy, unaware of the extent of the danger just a few moments ago. Not danger you were in, of course, like Solomon could ever hurt you. But the rest of the realms?....well that's a different story....

Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Never wake a sleeping dragon....

Never underestimate the obsession love that Solomon the Wise has for his Darling Apprentice.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Please can you write something with Bill? 🥺 I would really like him in your writing style

✮⋆˙ twinkle twinkle little star (Bill Cipher x reader)

author note: hii, so this is my first time writing Bill Cipher (if we’re not counting smut LOL), so if he feels a little OOC, I’m so sorry in advance :((

“You’ve got no idea how small you are. A little ant, crawling on the rim of a soda can, thinking the universe stops where the metal curves. But you’re lucky, babe. You’ve got me to show you the truth.”

You never should’ve made that deal and you knew it.  

You should've known better than to trust him.

“Love” wasn’t the word for it.

At first, it felt. . .  flattering. Who wouldn’t be seduced by the idea of being special in the eyes of something so vast, so incomprehensible? But Bill wasn’t the type to love, not in the way you understood it. 

He didn’t love you, not the way humans did. Bill Cipher didn’t do love. You were his curiosity, obsession, a bright, burning light in his endless void. 

He called you his little star, but very soon it turned into his pretty, breakable toy. And you hated how the words made your skin prickle, how his attention felt like sunlight filtered through glass, so beautiful and searing, but dangerous if you stayed too long.

He never asked you to love him. That would imply some sort of equality, wouldn’t it? Something mutual, balanced, tender. No, Bill Cipher wasn’t a man or a demon. . . or a whatever he was, who traded in such mortal trivialities. Love? What even was that, anyway? A chemical spill in the brain? A pathetic excuse for self-destruction? Hilarious!

Instead of your love, Bill demanded your existence. Every breath, every thought, every fleeting moment of fear or fury or fascination, it all belonged to him, as surely as the stars belonged to the sky. And wasn’t that the whole point? To take something so ordinary, so inconsequential and remake it in his image?

Bill didn’t love you. He consumed you. 

He didn’t care about your happiness or well-being, but he cared about your essence and your potential. 

The stars were his obsession, and now you were too.

When he first spoke to you about the them, he said, “you humans love to romanticize the heavens, don’t you? Gazing up with your sad little eyes, dreaming of escape, like you’re anything more than dust stuck in a whirlpool. But you, sweetheart, you could be a star if you wanted.” 

And it sounded too tempting.

***

With fear and trepidation, you realised that you would like him to appear more often in your life. You felt lonely and empty without that singular eye which was so damn alive in ways human ones could never be. When Bill Cipher looked at you it felt as if the fabric of the universe peeled back, and for the first time, someone truly saw you.

“You’re different,” he whispered once and his voice sounded like molten gold. “They’re all rats in a maze, but you’ve got potential. You could shine, dear.”  and you believed him.

Maybe that’s why, when he first tore the sky apart and dragged you into a void of glittering stars, you didn’t scream.

Because Bill doesn’t show you space, he shoves you into it. 

It was fucked up, all of it. 

The way he could snap his fingers and peel the world apart like wallpaper, exposing the writhing void beneath it. Bill doesn’t do anything halfway. One moment you’re standing on Earth, listening to him wax poetic about infinity; the next, you’re drowning in the universe itself. 

“Look what I can do. Look what I’ve seen. And now, you get to see it too!” Bill said excitedly meanwhile all you could do was only stare, slack-jawed, as galaxies spun like pinwheels with their light painting you in hues of silver and violet.  

Bill’s laugh cuts through the silence like static on a dying radio. “Beautiful, isn’t it, dear? A front-row seat to the cosmic symphony! And guess what? You’re the lucky guest of honor!”

“Fuck,” you whispered in awe, not even daring to blink.

Bill laughed at you again. “Exactly, baby! Fuck! That’s the kind of reaction I’m talking about! Do you get it now? While all these other ants were busy bumping into walls, I saw this. This!”

His eye spun toward you, unblinking, watching you from head to toe. He watched you both worshipful and utterly unhinged because for him you were part of those infinite constellations he adored, he watched you like you were the only thing that mattered in a universe of infinite distractions.

“You could be one too. A star.” Cipher spoke.

You didn’t ask what he meant back then, only laughed. “Stars burn out, Bill.”  

“Yeah, but they make one hell of a show first.” 

But how sad that stars didn’t just shine, they exploded.

***

It wasn’t all chaos and destruction, not at first. There were soft and tender nights, when the storm of his mind calmed just enough to let the starlight through.

Bill Cipher didn’t have lips to kiss, but he had power and he wielded it for you when he felt like it.

One of the clearest proofs of his power was that night by the lake.

You remember it, the night the moons danced just for you. 

Bill hated water, loathed its constraints, its rules, but he was levitating beside you anyway, watching as you waded deeper. You floated on your back, staring up at the night sky, feeling the silence, enjoying it. His eye gleamed in the darkness, lighting you up, taking you in like a masterpiece he didn’t know how to ruin just yet, but there was unusual softness in his voice when he snapped his fingers. 

And the moons, now two of them, impossibly large, swelled and glowed with light. And then the lake shimmered, the ripples reflected the radiance until it looked as though you were swimming through liquid silver, no. . . melted pearls in their beauty.

And it took your breath away.

“You like it?” he asked in a casual tone. “I can make it brighter, if you want. Or darker. Or gone.” 

And as if reading your mind, Bill snapped his fingers once more and the two moons shone even brighter.

“Better now, right? It’s for you, sweetie,” he said, leaning on his cane. “The moon, the stars. . . hell, the universe.”

You hated how beautiful it was. How much it felt like it was for you. But back then, you felt loved. Or at least, something close enough to it.  

***

Bill was everywhere. In your mind, in your shadow, in the air you breathed.

But love with Bill was never meant to be gentle, it meant to be a trap. A game played in his favor, in which you were destined to lose. It started small, quiet, too quiet to notice and react, his words cutting deeper, his charm was imbued with a poison. He didn’t just want you near; he wanted to own you, to reshape you in his image, to pull you apart until there was nothing left but the star he claimed to see in you.

He didn’t just want your attention, he demanded it, craved it with a desperation that was feral. And when you tried to push back, tried to claim even the smallest piece of yourself, he didn’t take it well.

One night, after you’d dared to argue with him, to tell him no, he burned with a rage that lit up the sky. His form glowed red, large, his voice so loud and low that made the ground tremble beneath your feet.

“You think you can defy me? You think you can just walk away? Newsflash, sweetheart: you’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And you’re not going anywhere.”

He grew restless. Obsession turned to cruelty. When he spoke, it was no longer about the stars you could see, but the ones he wanted you to become. His anger was cosmic, vast and unrelenting, and it terrified you.

“You’re wasting yourself here,” he snarled one day, his triangular form flashing red again as he hovered above you. “These people, this place, they’re nothing. I could make you mor—”  

“W-what are you even talking about, Bill?” you spat, though your voice trembled. “I’m human, Bill. I can’t—”  

“Bullshit! You can. You just won’t. And that’s what makes you pathetic. You think you can leave me? Do you even know what I’ve done for you? What I’ve shown you?”

You stared at him, trembling, but still defiant. “You’ve shown me a prison with a prettier view.”

And Cipher only laughed. “Prison? Sweetheart, I’ve given you the fucking stars! You’d be nothing without me. Nothing.” if he had a mouth, it’d be that disgusting crazy wide grin.

You wanted to run. But how do you run from someone who can rewrite the very ground beneath your feet?

***

You remember the terror of Weirdmageddon because you were at the center of it all. Not by choice, never by choice, but because that’s what he wanted. And what Bill Cipher wanted, he took.

But when it was over, when the Pines family managed the impossible, when Bill was defeated, erased from Stanley’s mind, when they unraveled Bill’s madness, tore him apart, and your world snapped back into place, the silence felt. . . deafening. 

You didn’t see Bill fall, not directly, but you felt it, you knew it was over, the sudden, aching silence where his presence used to be.  

The world felt smaller without him, quieter, duller. And you hated yourself for noticing.

You should’ve been relieved.

But instead, you stood in the ashes of his world, staring up at a sky, at the empty space where his chaos had once burned so brightly.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t laugh. 

And you remembered the stars. But Bill taught you that stars were always meant to burn out.

You remembered the way his voice softened when he talked about them, how excited and happy he sounded, the way he’d show you galaxies as if they were flowers he’d plucked just for you. You remembered the way he watched you, like you were the only thing in all of creation that mattered.

Even now, after his fall, you hope he remembers the galaxies. . . or if he’s just another forgotten star, lost to the void.

And you wondered if, somewhere, in some forgotten corner of the universe, he remembered and saw stars too.

[beenbaanbuun]

boyfriend!yeosang

a relationship with yeosang would be so precious like i literally cant stop thinking about it

not even anything specific. just him, sending you pictures when he’s bored, just because he finds it funny when you fawn over him via text. he insists that you send one back just so he can give you the same treatment.

and him manhandling you in the gentlest of ways. dragging you onto his lap during movie night and positioning you so that you can both be comfy, just because he’s cold and he needs your body warmth to heath him up. you’re like his own personal heater and you love it.

dancing with you in the kitchen as the moonlight shines through the window. it’s the early hours of the morning, and you both really should be in bed but you can’t help but be captivated by the way the silver light glimmers in his eyes. you’re too captivated by his beauty to sleep. you don’t want to close your eyes for even a second.

lying in bed together on a summers afternoon, the hazy rays of sun shining through the window and heating your bodies up as you allow your limbs to tangle with his. it’s too hot to cuddle, but you can’t seem to let him go. your sweaty forms just hold one another tightly as you dip in and out of sleep.

buying silly gifts for one another, just because they remind you of the other person. he buys you a scraggly rat teddy, and you buy him the wonkiest, most wrong looking dog teddy you can find. it’s not really a compliment to either of you, but the rat takes pride of place in your bed either way. he cuddles the dog whenever you’re not there, but he’s never tell you that.

domestic evenings where you share the bath. you wash his hair first, and whilst the conditioner is sitting, he washes yours. his fingers are gentle and precise as they massage your scalp. on more than one occasion you’ve fallen asleep against his bare chest mid shampoo…

nightmare filled nights that yeosang sleeps through, yet still manages to provide you comfort with his arms that are wrapped to tightly, so safely around your waist. he hums in his sleep as you huddle closer, silently begging for him to shield you from the demons that plague your sleep. his heartbeat calms you down and sends you into a silent, dreamless sleep.

in other words i’m soppy and lonely so i’m thinking about sangie WAYYY too in depth

[g1rlr0b1n]

Yet another commission by the amazingly talented @ookamihanta!!! Go check out their page to see more art!!! Their commissions are still open so go check that out as well!!! I highly recommend them!!! 👹

Gods and Demons (Preview)

Damian's preparations for departure were almost complete when Superman hailed him down. For a moment, Damian considered pretending he had not seen him, but ultimately rose to meet the two men who had now landed gracefully beside him and Goliath. He was familiar with the man known as Superman, but the second man was a stranger to him. He was tall with wavy dark locks framing a sharp jawline and piercing steely grey-blue eyes, he bore a resemblance to the other man. He had a pretty good idea now of who he might be. The man's attire was peculiar though, causing Damian to wrinkle his nose slightly in disapproval. He wore a black suit adorned with shimmering silver stars, his deep crimson colored cloak billowing behind him. The most unnerving part of his uniform however, was the obvious missing "S" shield in the center of his chest, leaving the skin underneath exposed for all to see. Damian quickly averted his gaze, focusing back on Superman. “What’s this?” Damian's features contorted in suspicion as Superman extended a piece of paper towards him.

“An olive branch” he replied calmly, then motioned to the tall figure standing next to him, Kal-El cleared his throat, “this is my son, Zod-El. He will be stationed in Tibet with you for the foreseeable future.” There was a moment of tense silence as if to allow for Damian to process the information. Then, Superman spoke again, breaking the stillness. "Consider him an ambassador of good faith," he said firmly.

Damian scoffed, crossing his arms, “Tt. More like a spy to make sure I behave," he retorted with a sharp edge to his voice. The Justice League's true intentions were clear, they had their own agenda, but he intended to manipulate it to his advantage. Despite their lack of trust in Damian's ability to change the League of Assassins, it gave them an excuse to keep him under observation and under their protection. They needed to keep Damian alive regardless of his intentions because the absolute worst case scenario for them would be for him to lose control. It was an obvious choice, he was the only option with ties to the Justice League and a genuine desire to make the world better, even if his methods had not been received well by them. He could only stand to benefit from such a relationship, nonetheless, he’d make them work for it.

Superman let out a weary sigh, his broad shoulders slumping in exhaustion, “you agreed to observation after the attempts on your life," he reminded Damian sternly. The mention of those close calls made Damian flinch slightly, the memories still fresh and painful. Ever since his grandfather’s passing things had not gone as smoothly as anticipated, with everyone with even the slightest of claims coming out of the woodworks, but he survived and he’d continue to do so. Of course, some extra protection would be prudent, even though he had managed to reunite his family giving him the most claim, the attacks still occurred. His mother had even begun to express concern, certain that there was a rat among his inner circle. Damian didn’t want to consider that, the notion that the people he cared for most wanted him dead. Although it was a reality that he hated to admit, he could probably benefit from an impartial set of eyes and ears. Yet, Damian was proud if nothing else and he refused to allow anyone to think him weak.

"That may be," Damian huffed, "but I never agreed to an indefinite placement and certainly not from one of your B-list cast offs." His lip curled teasingly as he surveyed the man clad in black in front of him. He was curious to see how he would react.

The man grit his teeth and extended a hand with a forced smile. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Dam-”

Damian interrupted firmly, his piercing gaze fixed on the man's face. “You may call me The Demon’s Head.”

The man chuckled nervously as he pushed back some unruly curls from his forehead. “No offense but...” he hesitated before continuing, “I’d rather call you anything else.”

Damian's lips curled into a menacing smile, his pearly whites barred behind a mask of feigned politeness. "Then, may I have the pleasure of calling you Jonathan?" The man remained silent, his expression guarded. Damian pressed on. "surprised that I know your other name?"

He cleared his throat, his voice betraying forced calmness as he responded, "Not really...and it's just Jon."

The smile fell from Damian's face, replaced by a look of disdain, "I'd rather call you anything else." The lack of push back from his opponent was slightly off-putting, it was simply no fun if they just stood there and took it. But then again, what did he really expect from the son of the Big Blue Boy Scout, always so righteous and obedient.

The tension between them hung heavy in the air, like a thick fog that refused to dissipate. Goliath finally broke the awkward silence with a restless shift, his large frame causing the ground to tremble beneath him. "I see there's no point in arguing with you," he grumbled, casting a patronizing look at Jon. "If Super Slut is ready to depart, then we shall." With the grace of a seasoned rider, Damian pulled himself up and swung himself onto his fiery red companion, feeling the heat emanating from its powerful body. Beside him, Jon effortlessly lifted himself off the ground and into the air. The bat dragon spread its massive wings and with a few strong flaps they ascended into the sky.

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

"Ow! Watch it you little turkey!!" He still was trying to get Eito away from him, even from the pecking and hearing the loud caws coming from him. Geez, this is going to give him a headache.

"That's my princess! Show more respect you brat!" He said angry to Daichi but he ignores Yuji's shouting in his head trying to get him to stop. However, he did get worried seeing his little sis shaking her head. Seeing Kinie wanted out.

But what he didn't expect was to see something pop onto her head seeing a little Quoll there. 'Huh!?'

"SHE'S NOT A RAT YOU FUCKING IDIOT!! I SAID SHOW RESPECT TO MY PRINCESS!! DO I HAVE TO GUT YOU!?" Sukuna hated if someone shows disrespect towards his princess! He wouldn't have that!!

"And she's NOT A CAT!!"

"OH, I'LL BE SURE YOU DO!! YOU LITTLE-"

The slide door opens showing Megumi who had a recovered Nobara. "Hey guys! We found you finally! We been trying to see if you guys were....." she started to speak but stops seeing this. Even Megumi was silent to blink.

"....."

"Uhhhh...."

In their minds though; "What. The. Fuck?!!?"

They saw Sukuna took over though. "Sukuna, let Daichi go!" Megumi said as he was still holding him by the shirt. "Come on, let him go.." he said. Sukuna growls at Daichi but he looks.

"Not till he apologizes for calling my princess a rat."

New Challenger: The New Sorcerer in Town.....

[catamaurrr-star]

okay guys hear me out. so the yanqing boss doesnt have physical weakness. but all the other human character bosses do. except cocolia but we all know what happened to hher anyway. but the non human character bosses DONT have physical weakness, such as the ebon deer svarog something unto death etc. this implies that yanqing is Not Human. play a shocked gasp sound effect now.

so now were wondering. what species IS yanqing then? well i have 2 theories so far. 1: vidyadhara. theres an npc on the xianzhou called qingzu that says yanqing is a vidyadhara, but a rat nibbled the pointy ends of his ears off. but i dont really think thats true at all considering she also said that jing yuan used to be a crosstalk comedian. but on the other hand have you ever seen a physical vidyadhara character before. didnt think so /joking and not serious

theory 2: he's got the same thing march has going on with the six-phased ice. this is already a pretty popular theory cause yanqings ice is pink sometimes and he also has a mysterious backstory. this would imply march is also not human which doesnt sound that far of a stretch

and now im going to just lie and make up a crack theory with no basis on it whatsoever. yanqing was a masked fool that accidentally got hit by a stellaron disaster and it changed his biological data (like the way silver wolf does it but by a stellaron) so much that he glitched out into a weird vidyadhara demon angel prince with none of the pointy ears or horns or anything and it threw him across the cosmos so fast, briefly hitting some six phased ice and absorbing it into him, that he hit akivili and killed them and then landed on the xianzhou as a little baby in the middle of the remains of a battle

[alec-volturi]

LAMENT | Alec Volturi x Fem!Reader

This is chapter 1 to this series.

Summary: Drawn by reports of a violent string of murders plaguing Seattle, you take a detour to uncover the truth for yourself. But in the shadows of the chaos lies a sinister secret: a newborn army of vampires wreaking havoc on the city. As you navigate the perilous streets, you must stay hidden, evading not only the feral young vampires but also the relentless Volturi, who have been trying to track you across the years.

Pairing: Alec Volturi x fem!reader Genre: angst, romance, drama, fantasy, suspense, dark, vioIence, friends to lovers, dark academia, gothic horror, canon divergence Word Count: 2k Warnings: This will have the lore of both films and books of the Twilight Saga series but with much darker themes. Gore/blood, mentions of witches, witchcraft, burning at stakes, devils and demons, vampires. And ofc NSFW so minors don’t interact. All characters in this series are aged up or are above the age of 18.

A/N: Reader description not described besides having red/gold eyes, clear/blemish-free like skin, and having some abilities as canon to all vampires in the books. And clothing from time to time. Dividers by @cafekitsune ♡

Stories usually start with a "Once upon a time," a simple phrase that loosens the veil between the familiar and the forgotten, leading listeners into worlds safely confined to dreams. But this story was different; it felt like a secret, like shadows pooling at the edges of your vision, waiting to pull you into a night where time doesn’t pass, where mysteries linger, and every whispered word tastes like something forbidden. This wasn’t just ink on a page; it was a door to someplace half-real, someplace where darkness wrapped you close and left you wondering whether you'd ever find your way back.

This world isn’t like that. Instead, it’s a place where time stands still, its hands frozen in a perpetual twilight, neither moving forward nor offering escape. For some, it feels like eternity, an endless stretch of nothingness where the hours blur together, unchanging. But for others—those who wander the shadows or fall prey to what lurks within—it’s a once upon a nightmare, a story where the darkness never relents, where hope is a fleeting, hollow echo swallowed by the night.

In the year 1663, as dusk painted the sky in blood and shadow, the people of London knew better than to linger outside. Each night, as the first stars appeared, every family bolted doors, snuffed candles, and whispered fevered prayers as they hid behind thick walls. Beyond the windows, darkness belonged to those who had vowed to fight it: priest with holy scriptures clutched tight, town braves with sharpened stakes and pitchforks dispatched in blind white anger, sworn to rid the world of creatures who defied mortal law. Blood demons, shapeshifters, and witches—they were all condemned as sin’s cruel agents, hunted as monsters by men who claimed their duty was divine.

As the town’s lamps extinguished, the silence was cut by hounds howling at the scent of something unnatural. The synchronized march of boots clattered against the cobbled streets, while shouts and commands ricocheted off stone walls, penetrating even the thickest household walls and rattling the bravest hearts. Fear and faith held sway in equal measure as the men marched, some clutching crosses while others wielded silver weapons they designed thinking it would pierce the skin of creatures they had never truly seen.

But beneath the city, where no torchlight reached, another world had been hiding—a world of thirsting hunger, of whispers, of sleepless dark eyes. Through the damp and nearly caved-in sewers, slick with grime and infested with rats, a vampire coven had staked their claim. For months, they’d made their den in this forgotten labyrinth of foulness, surviving in silence, drinking only when the thirst grew unbearable. They’d kept to themselves, unnoticed by the townsfolk above, their existence a secret safeguarded by shadows and silence.

Yet tonight, their precarious sanctuary would be breached. The hunt’s new leader, a young man, by the name of Carlisle Cullen, had taken over from his now deceased father and previous Anglican priest, saw the world through different eyes. Only twenty-three, bold and relentless, he refused to limit his search to open fields or deserted woods as his predecessor had. People would whisper that he was smarter, shrewder; that he sought darkness where no one dared look. And tonight, that unyielding curiosity and grim resolve drove him down, down into the labyrinth of decay beneath London where he’d sworn he saw the monsters lurk. A little far behind him, lanterns casting jagged shadows as his men held their breath and followed.

With each step, the air grew colder, thick with the stench of age-old rot and black mold everywhere. Carlisle pressed forward in step much faster than the others with only two other men at his side, determined until he found it: the coven his father had hunted for two decades and never found was but three arm lengths away from them.

Chaos erupted as soon as the men were heard by this coven. They saw their bright burgundy eyes and weakened bodies suddenly stirring with a vicious, desperate hunger faster than their eyes could keep up. Blood splattered the stone as some of the creatures broke away, dragging one man into the darkness while another, a man speaking in Latin, lashed out on the spot, jaws bared, too starved to hold back. And amid the frenzy, she appeared.

She stood apart from the others, more kept and clean, her form delicate yet unyielding, framed by a grey gown that looked lavish, handmade of silk and cotton. Her skin was impossibly clear, like striking stone, and her fathomless eyes gleamed with something between rage and sorrow. Her lips, faded smooth, curled slightly into frown as she observed the slaughter around her, a cruel beauty etched in her features that seemed both ancient and timeless. She was like a statue come to life, a creature of elegance wrapped in death's chill, and as her gaze locked onto Carlisle, the air thickened.

Carlisle, though terrified, refused to flee. Heart hammering, he charged forward, blade in hand, toward one of the creatures—the one who chanted something fierce in Latin, rallying the other swift, chilling figures that blurred through the shadows as they ran away. But then, in one brutal moment, the world tilted; he was thrown to the ground by the man who had gone into a sudden frenzy, his side searing with pain. Blood seeped from his wounds, pooling on the grimy stone, and his breaths came shallow and sharp. He opened his mouth to scream but bit back the sound, fear taking hold as he thought of the townspeople—would they turn on him, claim he was infected, cursed by the vampire’s disease?

As he clawed at the ground, desperate to pull himself to safety, his gaze drifted upward, and there she was. He could do nothing but stare. Her form seemed to emerge from the darkness like a dream or an illusion, her skin radiant as though lit from within. Every inch of her invited him closer, her elegance disarming him, and he forgot, for a moment, that she was one of the monsters he’d been sent to kill.

“Miss!” he gasped, breath shaky, arm outstretched in a futile plea. “Hurry, quick! Get inside or hide before they… before they kill you!” His voice wavered, a desperate edge creeping into his words as he beckoned to her, oblivious to the danger she posed.

Her expression softened, a flicker of sadness crossing her face, almost as if she pitied him. Then she spoke, her voice ringing out like a gentle chime that seemed to drift through the chaos.

“Dear boy, you should not have come here.” she spoke, her tone light and melodic, as though she needn’t draw a single breath to speak. Her words lingered, brushing against him like silk.

He faltered, as tears traced down his cheek from pain and blood loss trickling from his arm and leg, mingling with the dirt. Confusion contorted his face as he fought to understand while staring at her, then all at once, the truth struck him like a blow to the chest. She’s one of them, his mind spinning, his eyes widening with horror. How easily, how effortlessly, he had been drawn in.

“Don’t be afraid,” she murmured, tilting her head, her dark gaze unwavering. “I won’t kill you.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” he spat, a note of anger mingling with the brokenness in his voice. He could feel the cold tendrils of despair creeping in, the bitter realization that he’d been charmed, deceived by beauty. A little hope that she may put an end to his suffering.

Her lips curled into the faintest smile, her eyes glinting with something unreadable. “I’ve been watching you—son of Cullen,” she replied, a strange fondness in her voice.

“You’ve piqued my interest. You dream of becoming like your father, don’t you? But you desire more. You wish to help others, to save them, and yet here you are, hunting us when you’re worth more. Tell me, why do you follow such cruel orders by such a man that cared not for you?”

Gracefully, she lowered herself to his level, kneeling close enough that he could feel the chill radiating from her. He was breathless, the words caught in his throat as he stared into her dark burgundy, fathomless eyes. The scent of blood hung thick in the air, mingling with the faint, sweet perfume that seemed to cling to her skin. Around them, the body of one of his men lay motionless, strewn like a broken doll across the ground, his eyes glazed and empty.

“You know nothing of me!” he shouted, his voice cracking, the burn of tears threatening to break free. He was shaking now, fear and anger warring inside him. All he could hear were the distant cries of his comrades, the faint echoes of those still coming to join the fray. Yet, for all their noise, it felt as though he and this creature were alone, the last souls in a world drenched in blood and shadow.

Her expression softened, her gaze flickering over his face as if she saw past his fear, his hatred, into something deeper. And for a fleeting moment, he wondered what lay behind those dark eyes, what truth might live within a creature so cold, so deathless. But he pushed the thought away, forcing himself to look anywhere but at her.

“You won’t have to suffer for long. At least not like right now,” she said, a frown lingering on her lips. “But I will tell you this—there is a price to every vow, every hunt, every act of mercy shown. And one day, you’ll have to choose what you stand for.”

Too weak to move, he lay trembling, silent cries catching in his throat as the cold of his skin pressed in. She watched him with a sorrowful frown, her eyes shadowed with something almost tender. And then, with a suddenness he could barely comprehend, she swept him up in her arms. The world blurred, and in the span of a breath, they were far from the echoes of shouts and the clamor of pursuit. She lowered him carefully onto the cool grass beside a riverbank, the night air thick with the quiet gurgling of the slow-moving stream.

“You don’t have much time left,” she murmured, voice softened. “Too much blood lost—you’re dying.” She paused, gazing down at him, her dark eyes almost regretful. “But maybe. . .maybe you’ll take this chance and do something good with it, with this second life. There’s light in it, I swear, if you find it.”

Her words were little more than a whisper, slipping through the cool night air like secrets meant only for him. She took his limp arm, holding it gently before lowering her mouth to his skin. Her fangs pierced his flesh with a sharp, burning pain of silver, and he gasped, feeling the warmth of his blood slipping away, mingling with something that felt like ice, binding him to a pain unlike he felt previously. And then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone, leaving nothing but the faintest swirl of mist where she had knelt.

For a moment, he thought he’d dreamed it all—the pain, a fierce burning agony that raced through his veins, igniting his senses, hollowing him out from the inside out. His arm throbbed with searing heat spreading up to the tips of his fingertips and into his heart, each heartbeat like a pounding fire surging through every inch of him. His breath caught in his throat, unwilling to let out, vision blurring as the transformation began its slow, merciless work.

It would take three days for the change to complete, for his body to surrender fully to the chilling darkness now coursing through him. In those days, he would be caught between two worlds, his mind twisting, his memories reshaping, his humanity slipping away like sand through his fingers. And by the time he would open his fresh red eyes, the girl—the one who had granted him this second life—wouldn’t be seen again. It would be decades before their paths crossed again, though the memory of her face, her voice, her lingering sadness, would haunt him through every year of his endless life.

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 27th

Double Penetration In Two Holes, Papa Emeritus III, Dracopia x GN!Reader

Masterlist

Words: 6.3k.

Warnings: Double penetration in two holes; bisexual Terzo and Copia; mild olfactophilia; fellatio; spit as lube; anal sex; public sex; sex in a chapel; loss of virginity; voyeurism; fingering; degradation kink; praise kink; multiple orgasms; spanking; cum eating; finger sucking; vaginal sex; unprotected sex; piv sex; GN!Reader; throat-fucking; minor blood play;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog

!! Terzo and Copia are not related in this fic !!

🔞 MDNI 🔞

In the hush of the night, the chapel stood as a silent sentinel, its ancient stones cloaked in the silver glow of the moonlight. The air inside was still, carrying a sense of reverence that hung heavy in the dimly lit space. Stained glass windows, adorned with intricate designs of Satanic saints and demons, cast their vivid colors onto the cold, polished stone floor. Each pane was a jewel of “evil” history, its hues now muted by the darkness but still whispering tales of faith and devotion in the bright light of the moon.

Cardinal Terzo, unable to sleep found himself, barefaced, chested and footed wandering down to the peaceful place to gather himself and calm his racing mind. Candelabra clutched in his thick fingers so as to not disturb his superiors; the slaps of his feet hitting the stone as he entered the chapel echoing throughout the ancient walls. He stood still, silent for a moment, eyes darting around the nave as his ears picked up something he never expected to. Wracked sobbing, faint but audible, was coming from somewhere nearby.

Terzo, slowly, made his way up the aisle, looking in the darkness for the source of the anguish, heart pounding in his chest in fear - he didn’t know what, or who he would find. As he approached the crossing, a dark figure came into view. A male, slender, dressed in black and hunched over. He was sat on his knees, with his head in his hands, sobbing into the palm of his hands, brunette hair a mess from the tugging he’d subjected it to no doubt in whatever stress he had felt in that moment. Terzo got a peak at the nose, the strong, rather large appendage he’d grown accustomed to seeing around the Ministry since his teenage years some two decades ago. This was none other than Brother Copia, the lanky, weedy young boy who had been raised here since birth now a 21-year-old Sibling of Sin who showed great potential. He was bent on the chapel floor, red from the stained glass window reflecting off his body in an artistic fashion. And, given the pain of his sobs, no doubt his heart had shattered like one of those very windows.

“Brother Copia?” Terzo gently called out to him, a safe distance away but his gentle, concerned voice amplified by the Gothic dome in the centre of the crossing.

Copia’s head snapped up towards Terzo, his eyes red and puffy from the tears but his irises now the colour of blood. His ears, Terzo had finally noticed, were longer than usual and much more pointed, like an elf. In that moment, it had become apparent to Terzo what had occurred here on this night.

“C-Cardinal,” Copia sobbed, hand flying to his chest where Terzo had scared him, “I didn’t hear you… you startled me.”

“My apologies, it wasn’t my intention. Why are you crying?”

“I ache… everywhere. I’m tired; exhausted, even. I’m starving but no amount of food I eat even begins to hit the right spots. I was down in the kitchens just trying to get food but the siblings were looking at me as if… as if…” Copia sobbed again, much louder this time. “I was a monster!”

Terzo had only read books on this growing up, had only heard stories from decades prior. Never had he come across this in real life, nor had anyone that he knew. Somehow Copia had ingested vampiric blood and in the time between then and now, he’d died and been reborn as a vampire; one of Satan’s darkest soldiers. And the worst part of it all was, Copia had no idea about any of it. He had no idea what he had become was, indeed, the monster the kitchen Siblings had feared, but it was by no means a bad thing. This sweet, awkward young man, who instilled feelings of pity and irritation was now one of the most important members in the Dark One’s fight against the oppressive forces that plagued their world - and no one had prepared him for it.

“What is wrong with me?” Copia asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Fear was in his eyes, prominent in his shaking hands and wobbling speech. He was scared of himself - or maybe deep down he’d already understood what he was capable of.

“Brother, I think there is something you should know.” Terzo began recounting everything he learned as a child, sitting beside the lost Sibling as he told tales of immortality, and the Devil’s hand touching those He wished to bless with the gifts of life and death. Copia, once a mere, male mortal capable only of dying, could play God, could choose whoever he wished to join him in undeath, and create his own children using his blood, now still around his dead heart.

Copia didn’t believe the Cardinal at first - who would? There were times when his own Satanic faith wavered and he found himself doubting the power of the Olde One. If he didn’t even believe in his own father in Hell, how could he believe these old wives’ tales of night stalkers and blood drinkers? It wasn’t until Terzo reached into Copia’s mouth and sliced his index finger on his canine teeth that Copia began to believe these stories were true.

The way his nose twitched at the smell of Terzo’s blood; at first inhalation, the dominant note is one of iron—a metallic tang that is inherent to blood itself. The metallic undertone carried with it the essence of life, a reminder that within this crimson fluid lies the very sustenance that nourishes the body and fuels existence.

Yet, beneath the metallic foundation, there was a subtle and alluring note of coffee. It was as if Terzo’s blood had absorbed the essence of freshly ground coffee beans, the aroma of a rich and robust brew that invigorated the senses. The coffee note was warm and inviting, conjuring images of early morning rituals and the comfort of a steaming mug in hand. Warm and inviting, the perfect two words that could sum up the Cardinal and how he had always made young Copia feel.

These two scents had Copia’s stomach growling as if there was still life inside him. The way saliva pooled in his mouth at the sight of Terzo’s blood pouring down his finger and pooling in his palm. Copia had no idea his body was reacting, that he was turning to face the Cardinal, crimson eyes now glowing with the need to quench his thirst. That his mouth was drawing ever closer to Terzo’s palm. That his lips were parting enough to expose his fangs.

Terzo, in an effort to escape and not get blood everywhere, tried sliding backwards, dragging his ass along the stone. But the force of Copia’s body landed on him, pushing him backwards and forcing him to lie flat on the floor, Copia crawling on top of him to reach the blooded hand that was now extended above his head.

Somewhere in the struggle, humanity returned to Copia and he suddenly realised what he was doing. He was going to back away, apologise profusely for his behaviour and beg for forgiveness. But he was aware of Terzo beneath him, of the Cardinal’s legs spreading ever wider and allowing Copia to settle nicely in between them. His brain, one of the few organs that survived the change, recognised this moment as intimate… sacred… sexual. His still blood warmed in preparation and began to travel down to a very familiar appendage, filling him up nicely underneath the looseness of his tunic. With the closeness of their bodies, there was no way Terzo was unable to feel the hardness of Copia’s cock.

Terzo, like Copia, wasn’t thinking. He should have let Copia get off him and walk away. He should have fought harder for his life and allowed Copia to leave before things took a turn for the worse. But Terzo’s brain was also aware of the position he was in, how he was trapped underneath a fledgling vampire who barely had control of his own fangs. He was also aware that there was only two items of clothing separating his fluttering hole from Copia’s deliciously thick and hard cock. That thought was what clouded Terzo’s judgment, and had his clean hand wrap around Copia’s neck and pull him down.

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, mostly awkward with tongues and teeth smashing against each other until a rhythm was found that was pleasurable for both. Copia’s one hand kept him propped above his superior, while the other made its way to Terzo’s thick waist and pinned him down desperately, despite the fact that Terzo had no intention of going anywhere.

Terzo was the first to break the kiss, reaching up slightly and attaching his lips to Copia’s neck causing Copia’s hips to buck forward and rub his cock against Terzo’s. Both groaned at the sensation. “Th-this is wrong.” Copia said. “We should s-stop. I might k-kill you.”

Cardinal Terzo pulled away and looked directly into Copia’s eyes. “I can’t think of a better way to go, no?”

Copia chuckled and rested his forehead against Terzo’s bare and hairy chest. “Cardinal!” He grumbled, trying to pretend he wasn’t amused.

“Look at me.” Terzo ordered. He waited until Copia obeyed and looked into his mismatched eyes. “I trust you.”

“But I’ve never… You would be… my first.”

“First… meal? Of course.”

“First time. Wait meal?”

“You are a virgin!?”

“Hold on,” Copia pulled back, “I feel like we’re not on the same page here.”

“I would be your first meal and your first fuck? What contract do we have to sign? Get inside me already.”

“Cardinal.”

Terzo sat up and took Copia’s head in his clean hand. “Do you trust me?”

“Sì.”

“I trust you. Now,” he patted the pew they were sat in front of, “pull up a pew. Get comfortable.”

Copia sat on the seat with his legs spread and watched as his superior awkwardly walked on his knees towards him, settling in between his thighs. With his clean hand, Terzo began lifting Copia’s tunic and once Copia got the hint, he helped, taking it off entirely and throwing it somewhere in the chapel leaving him naked and vulnerable to Terzo’s whim. His cock, thick and hard now, rested on his stomach, leaking precum and waiting for Terzo’s… well, something. Copia wasn’t sure what Terzo would do to him.

Terzo removed his sweatpants, revealing his own cock to Copia, which became the second part of his body that Copia drooled over. When Terzo got back onto his knees, he wasted no further time, spitting directly onto Copia’s cock and taking him into his mouth.

Copia gasped at the foreign feeling, unable to fathom the sheer pleasure he was feeling. He had touched himself, of course. He spent most of his late teenage years exploring his own body, but his own hand never compared to this. To the sloppy feeling of Terzo’s mouth dragging up and down his shaft; to the way Terzo’s tongue took care at the tip of his cock, and played with his frenulum. How had Copia gone this long not putting his cock down people’s throats? How had he spent as long as he had not partaking in carnal lust as was required of him by Satanic law?

“Oh, Sathanas!” Copia exclaimed. Terzo had hollowed his cheeks and increased the suction on Copia’s cock, intensifying the feeling. At the same time, he pushed down so his nose was flush with Copia’s pubic mound and the tip of his cock was down Terzo’s throat. Copia’s hands flew to Terzo’s black hair and grasped on as tightly as he could, trying to keep himself grounded, but it was unsuccessful. His head flew back and his throat released a shout, so loud it echoed against the walls and could have drawn attention to the chapel had this been a different hour.

Terzo pulled off with a pop. “I know my mouth feels incredible, but you do need to be quiet. Unless you want to be caught?”

“I’m sorry, Cardinal. I couldn’t help it.”

Terzo smiled, a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face clearly proud of his work. He bent down and went to take Copia into his mouth again, but Copia’s hand stopped him. “Please, don’t. I’ll cum if you do and I don’t want to. Not yet.”

Terzo laughed and stood. “Ah, virgins. Three minutes and they’re done.” He straddled Copia’s lap. “We’ll have to work up your stamina, sì? Keep you nice and hard for all the Siblings you’re going to fuck in your future.”

Terzo lined Copia’s cock up with his ass. “Wait!” Copia said. “Don’t we need lube?”

“That is why I slobbered all over your cock, my sweet boy. You’re also,” he began to sank down on Copia’s cock, “lucky I am a seasoned slut.” Copia’s hands flew to Terzo’s hips and gripped on, sinking his nails into the flesh. Terzo wasn’t gentle with his movements, bottoming out immediately. “I got railed by Cardinal Secondo’s Ghoul this very evening after his duties were finished. Though, I must say,” Terzo grunted, “you are much thicker than he is.”

“Cardinal,” Copia leaned up and kissed Terzo deeply, “please stop talking.”

Terzo laughed but nodded, allowing Copia the mental relief of his blabbering so he could focus on not cumming instantly. Little did Terzo know, it was already a mental struggle for Copia to just be this close to him, especially with the scent of Terzo’s blood still strongly wafting throughout the room and directly up his nostrils. The coffee smell and the feeling of being balls deep inside Terzo had Copia’s head reeling. It was almost too much for the poor boy. He was unbelievably hungry and now he was achingly hard and trying not to cum, he was losing his virginity while also mourning the loss of his life. So many thoughts in that little brain of his, so much to think about, but all quietened by the fact that there was a Cardinal ready and waiting to bounce on his cock when he gave the go ahead, tightening his walls every so often as if he were trying to drive the poor vampire mad.

“Are you ready, my little bat?”

Copia swallowed hard and nodded, nerves getting the better of him.

Terzo tentatively bounced, and tried not to laugh at the face Copia pulled at the feeling of it. He bounced a few more times, slowly, making sure that Copia was doing well enough before he picked up the pace. His hands holding onto Copia’s shoulders for leverage, well aware that his dried blood was now touching Copia’s skin and exceptionally close to his mouth. He saw Copia’s nose twitching as he smelled it, but Terzo said he trusted Copia and he meant it.

“Sathanas!” Terzo moaned softly.

Desperate moans were spilling frantically from Copia’s lips in time with each movement of Terzo’s hips.

Terzo bent down to kiss Copia once more, before uttering, “Touch me.”

Copia swallowed once more and nodded, moving his large hand down to Terzo’s cock and began stroking it as if it were his own. Terzo, already sensitive from his previous escapades, was on the verge of cumming himself, he just needed that extra push. And the feeling of Copia’s hand wrapped around his cock was the push he so desperately needed.

“I’m cumming.” He announced, and then moments later began spilling his seed onto Copia’s stomach, his mouth open in a perfect ‘o’ and his eyes watching the way his cum gathered on Copia’s skin.

Copia, now almost at his climax, pulled Terzo down and kissed his neck at the most sensitive spot before sinking his teeth into Terzo’s neck and feeding from him for the first time.

Terzo’s blood smelled sweeter than before, almost like a toffee nut latte. It could have tasted like it too had it not been for the metallic undertones. Copia released a deep and gutteral groan at the first lick of Terzo’s blood, and pulled his body closer and closer as he took his fill, all the while Terzo was lazily stroking his own cock to oversensitivity. When Copia was full, or close to it without hurting Terzo, he pulled away and thrust into Terzo’s ass several times before cumming deep inside it, watching as the blood from the open wound cascaded down his neck, across his chest and fell onto Copia’s body, dripping and mixing with what was left of Terzo’s cum.

For a while, all that could be heard in the chapel was their heavy breathing as they recovered from their short, but sweet encounter, Terzo dizzy from the loss of blood but alive. Copia did everything he could to stop the bleeding, and was successful eventually. But Terzo had lost a significant amount and it would take him a while to recover.

That night, he was able to guilt trip Copia into carrying him back to his room, and Copia watched as Terzo slept after Terzo’s quick, replenishing meal, making sure that Terzo was, in fact, okay and he didn’t take too much of his blood. That was the scariest first night as a vampire for Copia, terrified he’d killed one of the few people to show him kindness at the Ministry. But when Terzo’s eyes opened the next morning, Copia could breathe a sigh of relief.

As the years had marched on and the weight of time settled upon his shoulders, Papa Emeritus III often found himself drifting back to the vibrant tapestry of his youth, like an old, cherished book whose pages he couldn’t help but reopen. He often thought back to the night in the chapel and how it felt to be woven within Copia’s life so imperatively as he was. How he still wore the 30-year-old bite scars on his neck with the utmost pride, a badge of honour representing the baby bat’s first successful feed.

There had been casualties throughout the years, Copia’s lack of confidence triggered a particularly rough dry spell for the vampire where he refused to drink another drop from a living being again, which ended up doing more harm than good, especially when there was a raging, bloodthirsty vampire on the loose around the Ministry. He was able to reign it in as he got older, of course, and he grew into his abilities both vampiric and sexual.

It had been so long since the last time they touched each other; after the night in the chapel they would sneak off to that very room regularly for a quick fuck and feeding. But one day, presumably after Copia became Cardinal their meetings just stopped. Copia’s dark, yet intoxicating aura kept drawing other members of the Clergy in and Copia was enjoying his meals from various playthings, a harem if Terzo was being honest. Terzo’s own Cardinal duties meant their schedules never aligned and so the two drifted apart. But there were times when Terzo would be bouncing on a cock where he would allow his mind to drift off to that night, and remember how it felt to take many of Copia’s firsts. Terzo was sure he would never relive that night.

Yet, in the hush of the night, the chapel stood once more as a silent sentinel, glowing silver in the moonlight. The air inside retained a palpable sense of reverence, just as it had in ages past. The very same stained glass windows, adorned with intricate designs of celestial angels and unholy saints, cast their vivid colors onto the cold, polished stone floor.

Papa Terzo, troubled and restless, found himself in this sacred haven once again. Barefaced, chest exposed, and feet clad only in the softest of slippers, he had ventured here to seek solace and tranquility, just as countless others had before him in days of old. Clutching a candelabrum in his sturdy hand, he moved with deliberate care, ensuring not to disturb the tranquility of the sanctified space. The echo of his footsteps reverberated through the ancient walls as he entered the chapel, standing motionless for a moment, his vigilant eyes scanning the nave, and leaving the candelabrum by the door. It was in that timeless silence that he heard something he had never anticipated.

It wasn’t sobs he heard echoing off the ancient walls this time; not sounds of anguish and despair; he couldn’t taste the fear and woe that he could thirty years prior. He smelled sex, he heard the breathless moans of two enthralled in the most cardinal of sins. He saw Cardinal Copia’s bare back, brunette hair messy atop his head and pale white skin littered with dark scratches. In his lap on the pew, he saw you, the prettiest of all the young things gracing Copia’s harem, straddling the Dark Cardinal with your eyes closed and your face contorted with such pleasure. You had no idea your Papa was there in the nave, watching you both with morbid fascination as you rode Copia’s long, slender fingers.

He knew how it felt to be Copia at that moment, knowing firsthand how good your tight, wet cunt felt. You were, as it happened, his favourite plaything. His most obedient, good, little slut who always promised him that your cunt was his to play with. Though he never actually believed it, he just found it amusing to see you so pliant and willing for another man when you always seemed so shy. He wondered how many others you gave yourself to, how many others you’d lied to so that you could reach orgasm. What a truly, devious, desperate little whore you were.

“I remember when you used to do that to me, Cardinal.” Terzo announced, making you jump and your eyes snap open to look at him.

Both Terzo and Copia laughed at you.

“I borrowed your whore, I hope that’s okay.” Copia said. He didn’t care if it wasn’t okay, he always took whom he wanted and challenged anyone to challenge him. He could be a dick sometimes, that was part of the reason he had so many people fawning over him.

“Papa-” You reached for Terzo, your body weak and exhausted. Your voice was hoarse, no doubt from where Copia had had you screaming for him before Terzo had got there. Terzo recognised the sounds, and knew from your reactions that you’d cum multiple times already. And judging by how pristine your body looked, Copia hadn’t had his fill of you; rather, he enjoyed watching you beg for mercy.

Terzo gave you his hand and moved towards you both, kissing the back of your hand and stroking your hair gently. “How many times have you made them cum?”

“Two. Working on the third.”

Terzo tutted. “Were you never taught to not play with your food? Or in this case, torture it.” Though he was talking about you, he was looking at you, revelling in the way your face showcased your ruin.

“Of course, Papa. But,” Copia moved his free hand to your ass cheek, “I want this one sweeter than a fucking peach.” He slapped your bare ass, hard, and had you yelping out and tightening around Copia’s fingers. He bent down to bite your hip - not hard enough to puncture and draw blood, but hard enough for you to feel it.

Terzo feigned sympathy and finally addressed you. “Oh, tesoro. Is he torturing you?”

“Papa, please!” You were begging him, clutching onto his hand and staring up at his bare face in desperation. But you didn’t even know what you were begging for.

“You want your Papa to help you, è corretto?”

“Please!”

He moved his hand from your hair to your face and tenderly stroked it. “Do you think you deserve help when you lied to your Papa?”

Copia gasped. “They lied to Papa?”

“They did. They told me that sweet, little cunt of theirs belonged to me. Yet here they are allowing another man’s fingers inside of them.”

“Oh mi povero Papa! You should have heard how they were begging for my cock earlier.”

“Well this just won’t do, will it, Cardinal?”

“No it won’t.”

Your desperate voice sounded as your hips bucked faster and faster against Copia’s fingers. “Cardinal, I’m so close, please!”

“They want to cum, Papa. Should we let them?”

“Well, seeing as they’re so desperate to orgasm, I think we should.”

You came for the third time on Copia’s fingers, clenching around him so tightly he found it difficult to move them. Instead, he had to focus on your clit to keep you overstimulated and brain dead as you came for him, for them both. Both of their eyes were trained on you, focussed on how your face contorted again, how your body shook with the force of your orgasm, and how you tried, but failed, you keep your voice low.

Copia pulled his fingers out of you and raised them to Terzo’s mouth, and he sucked them in willingly, hollowing his mouth around the digits and fervently licking every drop of your cum off Copia’s skin. He groaned at the taste, and only pulled away when he had deemed them acceptably clean.

“Are they ready for your cock now, Cardinal?” Terzo asked.

Copia nodded, “They are. And I’m ready for yours.”

As you sank down onto Copia’s cock, his thickness stretching your wet walls beyond comprehension, you watched Terzo pull his sweatpants down and off completely, to reveal his achingly hard cock to the coolness of the room. Your hands rested on Copia’s shoulders for purchase as you began bouncing, setting a slow pace to begin with and allowing your little whimpers to echo throughout the chapel. Copia tipped his head back, his neck exposed to you and resting on the back of the pew, his mouth open and waiting. Terzo, eyes focussed on you, began feeding his cock down Copia’s throat, inch by inch until he was fully seated down his throat. You watched Copia’s slim neck expand to accomodate Terzo’s length, and clenched when Terzo let out a deep groan formed at the pit of his stomach.

“Just like that, Cardinal.”

With each of your bounces, you jolted Copia’s body which in turn had him move against Terzo’s cock, only a little though. It was for that reason Terzo moved his hips and began to fuck Copia’s throat. Slowly at first, he didn’t want to hurt Copia, but eventually his need was too great and he found himself thrusting harder and harder. His body leaned forward, and was supported by two of his hands on the back of the pew and one of his feet, the toes curling around the bench to give him leverage to thrust. This position allowed him to, when you leaned forward too, get right up into your face and pepper you with sweet kisses. “How does the Cardinal feel, tesoro?” He asked.

“He’s s-so big. So deep!”

“Where can you feel him?”

“I-in my stomach.”

A muffled growl could be heard from between you, Copia’s voice reacting to your words. That growl vibrated around Terzo’s cock, which pulled another moan from his throat. The good thing about vampires, both Terzo and Copia had discovered during their youthful escapades, was that they didn’t need to breathe, which meant that Terzo didn’t have to do the courteous pull-out.

Terzo removed one of his hands from the pew and wrapped it around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a deep and passionate kiss. Your face, red and sticky from sweat, too irresistible. Terzo needed your lips on his, and he needed them immediately. Though when he pulled away, he gripped onto your hand and brought your fingers to his lips. Like he did with Copia’s fingers, he sucked them into his mouth, the action entrancing you like a witch’s spell.

This time, however, your fingers were getting sloppier and sloppier each second they were in his mouth, and eventually, he released them with a pop. “Open your asshole for me, tesoro. Get yourself nice and stretched.”

You did as you were told, taking your now lubricated fingers and stretching yourself out to fit Terzo’s cock. Copia, now registering that your mind was preoccupied, held your hips still and began to thrust into you at a rough pace from beneath, getting his pleasures while you were preparing for your Papa.

Terzo, at this point, had moved back to almost his original position, except the hand that was on your neck had begun resting on Copia’s, squeezing his esophagus and making that hole so much tighter around his cock. “Cazzo!” Terzo shouted. “This throat takes me just as well as I remember, no?”

Copia grunted in response.

“Always so willing for my cock, Cardinal. Always took what I gave so willingly.”

Copia’s hips slammed into you harder at the memory, his cock hitting against your cervix every time and forcing loud, uncontrollable screams out of you.

Terzo gasped, as if something had shocked him, and pulled out of Copia’s throat completely, sitting down on the pew behind him and catching his breath. “Fuck, that was too close.”

“Losing your stamina, old man.” Copia taunted, his voice deep and gravelly from the exertion. His smile exposed his fangs, and his tongue ran over them, teasing Terzo. His Cardinal makeup, the black eyes and upper lip, was completely ruined by Terzo’s efforts. The tears that Copia had cried while Terzo was deep in his throat had rubbed off in a perfect tear line down the sides of his face, and the lipstick he wore had disappeared completely, replaced by pale pink, swollen lips. A particular thrust inside your cunt, however, had the Cardinal pulling his head off the pew and looking at you, mouth wide open and brows furrowed in animalistic pleasure. “This fucking cunt!” He yelled, continuing to slam into you at such a rate that stole your breath.

“Now you see why I keep fucking them.”

“I might have to steal them from you - make them my own.”

“We share them.” Terzo stood and walked around the pews, settling himself behind you. One of his hands went to your waist, just above Copia’s, while the other went to your hair and pulled your head to the side, exposing your neck. He began to kiss up and down that sensitive spot, both men ignoring your overwhelmed cries and using you for their own pleasures and agendas. You saw the possessive look in Copia’s eyes as he watched Terzo kiss right on that sweet spot on your neck, the very spot Copia was going to feed from. Unbeknownst to you, Terzo was also staring at Copia as he was taunting him, living for riling the vampire up and thoroughly enjoying what it was doing to you. “We share them.” Terzo said once more.

“We share them.” Copia repeated through gritted teeth.

“I’m r-ready, Papa!” You screamed as Copia maintained his speed and intensity. This only slowed when Terzo ordered him to.

You heard Terzo spit on his cock to re-lubricate himself, give himself a quick tug, before he started pushing into your ass.

Your eyes almost bugged out of your head as Terzo entered you. He was gentle, of course, Terzo usually was at first. But with Copia’s thick cock already buried so deep inside you, it was more than difficult accommodating them both at the exact same time. “Almost there, tesoro.” Terzo said, kissing your shoulders to comfort you. “You’re doing so good for me. Taking us both so well.”

Copia’s eyes and hands were now roaming all over your body hungrily, feeling the life rush through you as your heart pumped faster with adrenaline. He could smell the spike in your blood, the extra sweetness released by the three orgasms he’d already given you. Copia’s sensitive senses detected a multifaceted aroma from the scent of your blood. Initially, it was a delicate floral fragrance, reminiscent of rare blossoms that only thrived under the full moon, creating an ethereal and intoxicating essence. Underlying this was an earthy, grounding note, evoking ancient forests and damp soil. Deeper still, there was a subtle, forbidden sweetness, like condensed nectar from countless flowers, tempting yet taboo. Lastly, a comforting warmth permeated, suggesting hearth and home, sparking a longing for connection beyond Copia’s immortal existence. In the end, the scent of your blood was akin to the finest aged wine, a treasured and savored rarity.

And Terzo, after all those years apart, still smelled exactly like coffee.

“Are you ready, tesoro?” Terzo asked with one final kiss to your shoulder.

“Yes, Papa.”

“What do you want, dolcezza?” Copia asked.

“You.”

“Who?”

“Both of you.”

Terzo smiled, “you have us.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“As you wish.” Copia said.

They both began thrusting, picking up a pace easily. This, of course, wasn’t the first time they’d shared a sibling more than willing to whore themselves out for the pair of them, and this wouldn’t be the last. They both fell into a perfect rhythm, only thrusting in when the other had pulled out, and maintained this even as their speeds picked up. Copia was slouched on the pew, allowing him more leverage to fuck into you, but Terzo was immediately behind you. His skin touched yours. He was so close, you could hear his grunts and whimpers directly into your ear.

“Look at you,” Copia began, his voice low and strained, “taking us both like a fucking whore.”

“Merda!” Terzo exclaimed. “Cardinal, that filthy mouth of yours. Be kinder to our tesoro.” Those ‘filthy words’ though, had both of your holes fluttering around them, and even got into Terzo’s head. He got off on the fact that you got off to being abused in such a manner, thoroughly enjoying your tightening ass.

“They want kind? Fine.” Copia’s hand moved down to your clit and he started to lazily play with it using his thumb, causing you to cry out once more.

“They love it when you play with their clit, Cardinal.”

“So good for us, aren’t you, dolcezza?”

When you didn’t reply, they laughed.

“Poor little thing, so cock drunk and brain dead.” Copia said, feigning sympathy. “I think we’ve ruined them.”

“I guess they want us to stop.”

“No!” You screamed. “Don’t stop - please don’t stop! F-feels so fucking good. I love your cocks!”

“Which is better?” Copia asked.

Your eyes widened, fully comprehending the question. “I c-can’t choose.”

Terzo, “You have to, or you won’t cum.”

Copia, “We’ll pull out and leave you like this.”

You, “No, please! I can’t decide. I want them both. I need them both! Fuck, I’m so close, please!”

Copia, “You want us to share you, eh? You want us to keep fucking you like this?”

You, “Yes!”

Terzo, “You want to hang off our dicks like this whenever we want to use you?”

You, “Yes! Fuck! Please, please, please!”

Copia, “Aw. Papa, since they asked so nicely…”

Terzo, “Cum, tesoro. Cum for us.”

You came hard, stilling against them and grabbing onto any limb you could possible grab onto. Your head fell back against Terzo’s shoulder, exposing your beautiful neck to Copia, who, while you were in the midst of your orgasm, had leaned forward and sunk his teeth into your neck, sucking your blood down his throat. The first bite of you, the taste of your blood had him cumming deep inside you, hitting your cervix at the final thrust and painting your walls white with his seed. The tightness of your ass from the orgasm and the eroticism of watching Copia devour you, had Terzo’s cock twitching and cumming into your hole, also gripping onto whatever part of your body he could find and burying his face in your shoulder. He had to restrain himself from biting you, too, knowing that it would hurt you more coming from him than the vampire attached to your neck.

From the exhilaration of the whole event, you passed out cold. After your orgasm, you don’t remember a thing, except when you woke up, you had a pounding headache and your bottom half ached deliciously. You opened your eyes, only to be met with the almost total darkness of Terzo’s bedroom, and no doubt, Terzo lying behind you, his arm over your waist protectively as his sleeping frame held you close to him. As your eyes opened further, you saw Copia sat on the armchair in the corner of the room, a book in his hand. But his attention was on you now that he knew you were awake.

“Good morning, dolcezza.” He said. He placed the book down and walked over to the bed, lying down in front of you and scooching up to press his body close to yours. He placed his arm over your naked waist where Terzo’s body hadn’t claimed. As you moved your neck to watch him, you felt a twinge of pain as though it were bruised at Copia’s bite. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” You replied, honestly.

“Mi dispiace, amore mio. It seems I overdid it last night. I took a little too much blood than I ought to.” He kissed your forehead. “Can you forgive me?”

“Nothing to forgive, Cardinal.” You yawned. “Just a mistake, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then nothing to forgive. Forget about it.”

“You need to rest more, dolcezza. When you wake up, Papa will order his Ghouls to get you some breakfast.”

“Will you sleep here with us?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes… please.”

Copia smiled at your adorableness. “Then, sleep here I shall. Good night, little one.”

“Good morning, Cardinal.”

And sandwiched in between Papa and the Cardinal, you drifted back off to sleep.

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

[the-mortuary-witch]

LUCIFER

WHO IS HE?

In Demonic culture, Lucifer is often described as a fallen angel who was cast out of heaven, he is also described as the ruler of Hell, and the Prince of the demons. He is often seen as a symbol of the light bringer, the keeper of secrets and knowledge, and the ruler of the underworld. His followers are often referred to as "Luciferians" or "Luciferians," a term that has been used to describe a wide variety of secret societies and mystery cults. Lucifer is seen as a powerful and dominant entity, and he is associated with mischief, rebellion, and chaos.

BASIC INFO:

Appearance: Lucifer is described in many different ways in Demonic culture. The specific characteristics and appearance of Lucifer can vary greatly, depending on the source and cultural context. Some descriptions of Lucifer depict him as a beautiful and angelic being, while others describe him as a terrifying and demonic entity.

In many Western traditions, Lucifer is seen as a fallen angel, though his appearance in these representations can vary greatly. Some common portrayals of him include that of a winged figure, with red horns and a tail, or as a very beautiful and angelic-looking character.

Personality: Lucifer is nothing if not charming. He’s a protector first and foremost - one that always works to help you better yourself, but a protector nonetheless. He feels like a protective older brother taking care of you while your parents are away. He is a very complex entity, deeply wise and eloquent. He is more serious than one might expect for a demon given their popular depictions in our culture as chaotic forces of evil, but Lucifer is full of courage and love. I often feel him with me even when I’m not doing things related to him. He is proud of his follower’s accomplishments and congratulates them on a job well done, though he also reminds them that the job is never truly over. Growth is constant, Lucifer is the epitome of growth, blunt and gentle at the same time, telling you what you need to do and giving you space to figure out how to do it. 

Lucifer values resilience, the pursuit of self-betterment, intellectualism, courage, open-mindedness and responsibility in individuals and wants to see his followers develop these qualities. He is constantly rooting for you to reach your full potential. He won’t hold your hand the entire way, but he will help you take steps in the right direction. Lucifer, like all deities, is different for everyone and will adjust his approach depending on your needs.

Symbols: Sigil of Lucifer, The Morning Star, violins and fiddles, dragons, wings, serpents, black goats, inverted pentagram, light, and the pentacle.

God of: illumination, light, darkness, change, rebirth, challenges, innovation, logic, truth, knowledge, wisdom, strategy, persuasion, revolution, luxury, pleasure, freedom, The Arts and The Morning Star (“Morning Star” is another name for the planet Venus)

Culture: Demonic and Roman

Plants and trees: belladonna, mulberry, patchouli, myrrh, min, tobacco, marigold, lilies, hyacinth, rosemary, black poppies, lavender, mint, blackberries, sage, apples, pomegranates, lilac, rose, black pepper, hyssop, gardenia, geranium, garlic, yarrow, and cypress.

Crystals: opal, jade, black tourmaline, rose quartz, amethyst, black obsidian, onyx, garnet, and selenite.

Animals: black animals in general, snakes, spiders, ravens, wolves, dragons, eagles, crows, goats, bats, rats, moths, flies, peacocks, insects, and swans.

Incense: sandalwood, lavender, cedar, lemon, rose, frankincense, patchouli, and myrrh.

Colours: black, red, black, gold, emerald green, silver, teal, white, yellow, and grey

Numbers: 666, 13, and 4

Zodiacs: Aquarius and Capricorn

Tarot: The Devil

Planet: Venus

Days: Monday, Friday, Lupercalia, Halloween, Samhain, and Litha

Parents: Aurora and Cephalus

Siblings: N/A

Partners: Lilith and/or Naamah

Children: Naema, Aetherea, Ceyx, and many others.

MISC:

• Snakes: Lucifer is often associated with snakes and serpents, which represent his connection to the serpent in the Garden of Eden and his association with temptation and knowledge.

• Fire: the fire motif is often used to represent Lucifer's connection to rebellion, destruction, and his nature as a fallen angel.

• Crowns: crown motif is often used to represent Lucifer's leadership and his status as the ruler of hell.

• Pentagram: a well-known symbol of Satanism and Luciferianism. It represents the balance and harmony between the five elements of the universe and the unity of the spirit as its center. It is also a common symbol of protection and good luck.

• Dragons: Lucifer is often depicted flying on a dragon or as a dragon-like creature, which represents his powerful and fearsome nature.

• Light: Lucifer is also strongly connected with the light, with his name being a reference to lightbringer or lightbearer. This connection represents his role as a bringer of knowledge and light and his association with enlightenment and wisdom.

• The Morning Star: Lucifer is often referred to as the "Morning Star" or "Light-Bringer", which represents the role as a bringer of knowledge and enlightenment.

FACTS ABOUT LUCIFER:

• Name: Lucifer is known by a variety of names, including Lucifer, the Morning Star, the Lightbringer, and the Destroyer.

• Character: Lucifer is a powerful and wise angel, but is also known for his pride and rebellion.

• Role: in Demonic mythology, Lucifer is the angel of light and the morning star, and was the most beautiful and majestic of all the angels.

• Relationships. Lucifer is known to have a close relationship with Ares, the god of war, as they are both known for their aggression and passion.

• The most important days of the year for him is December 23rd, when the sun is one degree into Capricorn, and the day following the beginning of the Winter Solstice is his Personal Day.

• Nature: when Lucifer fell from heaven, he became known as the angel of darkness and the destroyer.

• His directions are South and East.

• His zodiac signs are Aquarius, the Water Bearer, and Capricorn, the Goat.

• Connection to Prometheus: in Greek mythology, Lucifer is also connected to Prometheus, an ancient titan who stole the fire of the God’s to give to humans.

• His numbers are 13, 666, and 4.

HOW TO INVOKE LUCIFER:

To work with Lucifer, you should make an offering and then speak to him with reverence and respect. Make your offering and tell him you are asking for his guidance and aid. Then, sit silently and listen for his response. He may not have a physical body, but he has an energetic presence that can guide you. If you cannot sense his presence, it is okay. You should also meditate on your goals and wishes, and ask for his help in achieving them. Be open to the possibility that Lucifer may have his own plans or may want you to embrace a different path than the one you expected.

PRAYER FOR LUCIFER:

"Hail Lucifer, bringer of light and knowledge, keeper of secrets and wisdom. You are the rebellious one, the liberator and the shining one. I come to you now, seeking your guidance and blessing. I offer you my devotion and my loyalty. I pledge myself to you as your faithful servant. I ask for your protection and your blessings. Guide me on my path, bless me with your wisdom, and lead me to my destiny.”

"Thank you, Great Lord Lucifer, for shining your light and illuminating my path. From this place, I depart with a sense of purpose and direction, and with the knowledge to move forward. Hail Lord Lucifer. 

SIGNS THAT LUCIFER IS CALLING YOU:

• A desire to explore or study Lucifer's teachings.

• Wanting to explore your own dark side and find a balance between light and darkness.

• Desire to tap into your inner power and embrace your own darkness.

• A desire to challenge mainstream society and embrace your individualistic nature.

• A feeling of being guided by a force outside yourself.

• Thinking about Lucifer all the time, seeing’s his name everywhere.

• Sudden interest in dragons and snakes. Seeing dragon and snake imagery often and dreaming about dragons and snakes.

• Wanting to research more about him and wanting to know more about his true story.

• Feeling rebellious and having more confidence in yourself.

OFFERINGS:

• Candles or torches

• Sweet treats like dark chocolate or pastries

• Red, black, or dead roses

• Incense like sage or cinnamon

• Red wine

• Whiskey, especially Jack Daniels.

• Champagne.

• Pomegranates or pomegranate juice.

• Black tea, especially earl grey.

• Cooked goat meat.

• Venison.

• Apples.

• Honey.

• Good quality cigars.

• Tobacco.

• Daggers and swords.

• Silver rings.

• Emeralds and emerald jewelry.

• Goat horns.

• Black feathers

• Seductive colognes.

• Crow skulls.

• Bone dice.

• Devotional poetry and artwork.

• Classical music, especially violin.

DEVOTIONAL ACTS:

• Reject the idea of good and evil, and explore your darker sides

• Embrace your sexuality and desires

• Live a hedonistic life of pleasure and enjoyment

• Seek knowledge and wisdom

• Follow your own moral code and beliefs

• Be independent and unshackled

• Seek power and control of your life

• Reject authority and societal restraints.

• Acts of self-improvement.

• Spiritual awakening and evolution.

• Knowledge-seeking and dedication to spirituality.

• Shadow work.

• Working to overcome your ego to become wiser.

• Defending those in need.

• Working to better yourself without being too self critical.

• Fighting against tyranny and bigotry whenever you encounter it.

[love-killed-the-superstar]

mikey ask game, 8 and 13!

(these answers will be about 2k3 mikey unless stated otherwise because he's ~my~ mikey. i apologise for the length of these answers, it seems i had a lot to say?! i also apologise for how much i bring up fast forward here, it seems that i'm fixated on it really hard right now.)

8. what’s your favorite dynamic of him and any other character? what makes it your favorite?

It's so hard to pick just one!!

i thought a lot about this, but i think splinter? he's exasperated that his son can be a bit lazy and distracted from ninja training, but still had him specialise in nunchaku, showing that he believes in his ability to master a difficult weapon. splinter surrendering in the battle nexus so that mikey could advance was so heartwarming and honestly makes me emotional to remember. in the first turtle titan episode even though he doesn't understand why mikey admires superheroes so much he acknowledges that his intentions are noble and he needs to follow the path truest to his heart. veering a little more into headcanon territory, i do think that being the most openly affectionate, baby mikey was a master manipulator in terms of melting his rat dad's heart. i can picture him climbing onto splinter's lap every time he sits down and being the most reluctant to go down for naps. and in a particular au i'm cultivating that delves more into mikey's potential romantic life, i think he would go to his father for advice. splinter may not be well versed in romance outside of his soap operas, but he will always be here for his kids when they need him.

(this, of course, makes me very bitter over the flanderisation of their relationship in fast forward. ff!splinter might as well walk around wearing a shirt that says "i hate my lazy video game addicted son" and it breaks my heart.)

honourable mentions for other characters i think he has a great dynamic with: leo, silver sentry, klunk, serling, angel, april, renet and turtle titan ii.

13. what’s something about mikey that nobody seems to talk about that should be talked about more?

tbh i think a lot of people love mikey and have analysed him in just about every way possible and what i end up saying is probably not the most groundbreaking take, but here is something that i've thought about a fair bit but haven't really seen from anyone else?

in fast forward, mikey is depressed. it is handled by the narrative about as delicately as a bull in a china shop, but it's there.

5 seasons of being bombarded with trauma-inducing storylines culminates in temporarily dying, going full dragon avatar mode to defeat the demon shredder and then finally they are able to relax, breathe easy, process some of these emotions - but noooo, instead they get ripped out of their timeline and dropped 100 years in the future with no way home and the studio execs wouldnt let them rightfully lose their shit at cody so instead we see the turtles bottle that rage and slowly descend into semi-flanderised madness. /lh

mikey in particular becomes very sensitive to rejection (see: losing his goddamn mind and going on an all out offensive against turtle titan ii, after being talked down the first time he raged out, because raph made One Comment about how his successor is better at heroism than he is), prone to emotional outbursts, especially anger (remember that iconic clip of him beating up cops and stealing their cars because they pissed him off?), loses interest in his ninja training, maintains very poor hygiene/living conditions, grows addicted to video games, and in rare moments of vulnerability (namely in graduation day of 2105) he expresses that he sees himself as lazy, unfocused, a 'goofball', and undeserving when it comes to being recognised for his ninja skills like his brothers. my man's self-esteem is in the toilet, he is craving normalcy after years of constantly fighting for his life, and his dopamine is clearly critically low because he is dependent on all the fancy material goods of 2105 to be happy. his method of coping with the difficult emotions being stranded in the future has brought up, while still maintaining the silly funny guy routine that his family expect from him, is to bury himself in VR. and why wouldn't he, when among the uptick in mikey roasts over the course of this season we literally hear splinter say the words "where did i go wrong with that boy?" THOSE WORDS STAY WITH YOU WHEN THEY COME FROM YOUR PARENTS. THEY HURT.

he's very empathetic to leo's own depression in season 4, being the voice of reason at the beginning of samurai tourist when raph is ready to fight him. we also see at several points in seasons 1-5 that his loud ego is a front and he is actually very aware of his shortcomings, especially seen in grudge match. in a different timeline where 2k3 wasn't neutered following insane in the membrane, i do wonder if the turtles would have been able to explore their turbulent feelings regarding the 2105 situation. since mikey and leo are often paired up for adventures in 2k3, it would be an interesting parallel to see leo recognising signs of depression in his brother and helping him, imparting some of ancient one's wisdom (and, in the great year of 2105 where mutants are equal citizens and cody has money to burn, finding him a good cognitive behavioural therapist).

i don't think the writers INTENDED to code mikey as depressed / struggling to cope in season 6 - i think it was a toxic combo of writing more 'mikey is lazy/immature/irresponsible and needs to be taught a lesson' episodes than the usual season average + thinking it was a funny social commentary gag to make him obsessive over video games. but i saw a lot of those traits in myself when i was deep in a depression hole. the show has already told us that the turtles' mental states have been impacted by the ridiculousness they have gone through. why would mikey be any different?

I DIDN'T MEAN TO WRITE AN ENTIRE THINKPIECE, BUT IF YOU REACHED THE END, THANK YOU FOR READING. AND THANK YOU FOR THE ASKS!

[sis-goleona]

Title: Half dead?-(part two to the Half dead? series)

Pairing: The Cat King x Male! Reader

Word Count: 1,724

Summary: The King remembers how he found the reader...Something quite demonic.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

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

Thomas held the silver plate delicately in both of his hands, keeping the plate steady to ensure none of the strategically placed food slipped off. He rarely made dinner for anyone other than himself, the cats in his care had their means of finding sustenance. The food in question was various types of shellfish, crab legs, shrimp, and lobster tail. The king ensured he cooked the most expensive cuts to impress his special guest. The cats dragged a few bottles of water on a towel behind them. Thomas was pleased that these cats decided to help out of their own volition, usually, they are less than helpful when the king needs to get a job done....the cats are stubborn (much like him, but he won't admit that) they only do things if it benefits them. Cats are cats and nobody knows that better than the Cat King himself. Stepping into his bedroom, the yellow-eyed immortal took in the sight before him. The reader was fast asleep on the rounded bed in the center of the room. His eyes were shut and brows tightly knit together, he looked ... feverish, sickly almost, though the life did come back into his features, a stark difference from when he first laid eyes on him. The reader’s arms lay still by his sides, his hands lay just below his stomach; careful not to touch the large wound that spread from the top of his chest to his navel. When the cat king first laid eyes on the reader he was very unaware of the type of injuries he had sustained.

The king followed his little creatures out into the deep greenery of Port Townsend, a dense forest that lay delicately on the edge of the ocean. Thomas didn’t leave his warehouse all that often but when his cats called for him he was sure to follow. Any type of disturbance that may cause harm to his friends needs to be dealt with immediately. Especially now that the Witch is gone and dead he needed to keep his yellow eyes out for danger, constantly. It was just the break of a golden dawn when his cats alerted him to a gruesome sight; at the very edge of the lush green forest was a man, he lay face down on the grass, a dark black thick fluid surrounded his body, his arm was stretched out and lied limply, the liquid covering the entirety of the hand. This person wore what looked to be an oversized sweatshirt that covered the upper half of his body and stopped short at his wrists which were barely recognizable. He wore a pair of light gray well what looked to be light gray slacks, the liquid covered the pants but left splotches of untouched fabric. The unusual part about the whole thing was, that he wasn’t wearing shoes, just a pair of multicolored socks that were darkened and stained by grass, dirt, and whatever the liquid was. The cat king’s eyes scanned the area, nothing out of place in the normally quiet port town. A soft meow beckoned his attention, a brown tabby cat looked up at their king with a glint in their sharp green eyes, usually a look cats give when they have found a prize or brought in a plump rat as an offering for the king. The object of the feline’s obsession was a boot, a light pastel purple color that surrounded most of the leathery fabric, the base was made of black semi-translucent rubber there was an orange string that weaved in and out of the trim to sew the leather and rubber together. ‘Funny’, he thought, this boot color is so bright compared to the limp body’s dark clothing. Of course, the thought that this shoe may not belong to him ran across his mind, but in the small port town, not many people left their newly, expensive-looking boots destitute in the woods. Slowly; Thomas stepped toward the unnamed body that lay unmoving across the crisp early morning grass. The sound of gravel crunching underneath the yellow eye’s shoes and a couple of inquisitive meows from his furry companions filled the early morning air, “weird” the king muttered to himself, there were no other sounds in the forest, it was incredibly quiet usually the woods are full of songs from the wildlife but there was no chirping from birds or crickets making whatever sound crickets make nor was there any scuttering of little rodents. No matter, he needed to see if this human was still alive. He finally got close enough to see the texture of the sweatshirt and to smell the iconic metallic smell of blood, except this was not blood it was a pure black thick substance. The king squatted down to the level of the man’s head. And in this proximity, he picked up the scent of…rotten eggs…” fuck that's sulfur” All different kinds of alarm bells went off in his brain; black liquid, rotten egg smell “Children, let’s get this human back to the warehouse, there is a demon loose in port Townsend and I have a feeling they can tell us a few things” Thomas announced to the cats that surrounded him, they all looked up in unison a familiar look of distaste riddled in between their feline features. 

Reader stirred in his sleep alerted by the sound of soft footsteps and light purring from the five cats behind their king. Thomas looked around, finding a steel table to prop the plate on. His feet carried him to the reader's bedside. His yellow feline eyes took in the features that made up the resting human’s face, It was soft looking; supple yet textured it looked like skin yes..but the king wanted to reach out his hand and delicately place his fingers upon his cheeks and carry them down to his slightly parted lips, he wanted to see if the human skin felt exactly how it looked. He stopped his movements sharply, his hand suspended right above the sleeping face, he realized he was acting on his imagination, he brought his arm down to the collarbone of the sleeping man and shook him lightly. Reader’s eyes shot open, fear immediately replacing those calm and relaxed features. His whole body tensed while his eyes took in his surroundings, and then they landed on the raised eyebrows of his host, he allowed his body to relax once more. “Sorry, love didn’t mean to startle you,” the king said with a coy smile. Reader sucked in his bottom lip, letting it rest in between his teeth, a movement the king picked up on, it was so very inviting. ‘Right,’ the king thought to himself ‘food for the guest’. Thomas, again, picks up the plate and proceeds to set it down in front of Reader.

Upon seeing the plate full of white meaty sustenance his face drops....he was oh so hungry but nothing on that plate will be able to touch him. Thomas immediately understood the expression on his face...disappointment. The king tried his best not to get upset, he went all out for this dish! And even the sight of it made the reader disappointed.

"I cannot eat shell...fish," he said suddenly, his hands quick to motion. "Allergic". Thomas read over his face again, he looked almost apologetic, like it was his fault he couldn't eat the one thing he was allergic to. The yellow-eyed king sighed and replaced his frown with a soft smile. He closed his eyes, relieved to know that his guest wasn't all that disappointed. "You know what? I should have asked if you had any dietary restrictions...My bad". The reader also let a small smile rest upon his lips. But a growl that erupted from his stomach stopped this rather sweet interaction. "Right, um...how about PB&J? Will that work" Thomas hoped this would suffice, he didn't have that much food in his fridge, just shellfish and ingredients for a PB&J. The king thanked his lucky stars that the reader didn't have to wait any longer for food. What kind of host would he be if he left the poor sickly boy all alone in his bed while he went out...He definitely didn't want the reader to get into any of his stuff while he was away! That's what he told himself, he didn't want to admit to himself that he didn't want the reader to leave him. Now and then Thomas would think back to Edwin, those words he spoke in their last meeting "We're both lonely" Lonely? LONELY? As if I, the cat king who is surrounded by loyal followers could ever be lonely. At least that's what he told himself...He knew deep down that it was true, he also knew that Edwin's leaving caused a lot more sorrow than others who had left him before. "That sounds good" the groggy voice spoke out, quickly cutting the Cat King's thoughts into pieces. "Great...actually...I'm h-hungry" Now this was the most the reader had spoken in a while, and he felt it in his throat. It was beyond dry and he was in desperate need of liquid. It almost made him gag, the friction was overbearing. He let out a raspy cough that felt like the delicate flesh of his throat was ripping itself apart. The reader grasped his neck as a means to stop the pain, but it provided little comfort. Thomas quickly picked the cold bottle up and brought it to the reader, in hopes that it would soothe whatever spell hit him. 

Once calmed down. (And fed) the yellow-eyed king took a seat on the edge of the circular bed, it dipped ever so slightly under his weight, the sheets rippled and pulled in response to the sudden change. He drew in a deep breath, it filled his lungs and raised his chest. He held it there for a bit before exhaling. He was preparing himself to ask the question about how the reader had attained those horrific cut wounds that traversed his body. The king thought back to when he found the body and all the evidence that led to the idea of a demon being somewhat involved…He needed the reader to explain what the hell had happened out there. “Reader…let’s talk about the demon that tried to murder you” 

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

The second part is officially done. If you guys read this and have any criticism please let me know! this is the first time that I have written a short story and posted it. Thank you so much!!!!!

-Love Author Sybil

[raylaismad]

so i thought it might be a good idea to have an intro post for my account so here it is!

what do i go by?

well i go by whatever pronouns, i don’t really care about them as i am agender. the names you can call me by are Ray, Rayla, or any nickname you have given to me or that you like

what do i do on tumblr?

well i like to post art and talk about my special interests! my personal tags are

Ray actually posts- posts i’ve actually made

important reblogs- stuff i want to remember later on out of all of my reblogs

Rays asks - self explanatory

Rays tag games- tag games!

Timler swift- i made this tag pertaining to my Ariana Griande and Timler swift Au but anyone can use it :)

this may update in the future^

what fandoms are you in?

hermitcraft

traffic series

the nightmare before christmas

WWE

studio investagrave games

empires

barbie

will wood

lemon demon

Lego monkie kid

Gravity falls

Bad parenting

Stardew valley

Heathers

Hamilton

Beetlejuice

Deadpool and wolverine

The owl house

Amphibia

DSMP- formerly in it but I still interact occasionally

this may update in the future ^

who are your mutals? i’m glad you asked!

@thebookshelflord @thecrazyalchemist @ima-bellwoo @tamblerdraws @thebookshelflord2 @wrenbird03 @ass-sassafras @evil-vampire-official @doyouneedmedicalwesistance @eggymcdegy @silvers-not-home @eddiesrockstargirlfriend @puppet-on-string @sproutdawnclover @ruby-raider @iwillcausechaos @rat-detector @mumbojumbo-fanblog

(if you have been tagged by this by this point it's just me adding you and I'm sorry for the useless notif 😔💔)

fun facts?

i study mainly engineering and robotics along with sociology and psychology

i have been doing art for 5 years (as of 2024)

my favorite WWE wrestler is The UnderTaker

i love jackets

my favorite colour is maroon

i speak a small amount of german (and by small I mean MINISCULE I swear I'm working on it)

I play the violin

My favorite youtuber is Mumbo Jumbo

What does Ray look like?

this thing

oh yeah and here’s my reblog-blog:

@rays-blogs

I FORGOT TO DO DNI’S SO HERES MY DNI LIST:

NO PROSHIPPERS

NO TRANSPHOBES

NO HOMOPHOBES

NO RACISTS

NO ABLEISTS

NO MISOGYNISTS

NO PEOPLE THAT HATE THERIANS/FURRYS

NO NAZI’S

NO TERFS

NO CREEPY ANONS

NO EXCLUSIVELY NSFW ACCOUNTS, YOU ARE ALLOWED TO HAVE NSFW STUFF BUT IF THATS UR WHOLE ACCOUNT BACK AWAY

[kstewdeux]

@inuvember | November 3rd, 2024 | Sango

Ao3 | FFN

Kagome realized what was happening first. As they say, you should never feed a stray cat. Apparently that same concept applied to soul collectors and very unfortunately, when one’s job was to inflict death, you wound up were feeding the damn carrion eaters all the time.

It also just so happened that Sango was the only one doing the killing in a perfectly normal human type way. All stabby stab stab and less supernatural  punch. No demonic aura. No spiritual aura. Just good old fashioned violence. Just death and new souls to collect, all day every day. A very sweet gig, at least from the perspective of a soul eating creature.

So yeah, this whole thing started with one. One solitary little soul collector that started following them after a battle with a rather weak demon. Of course, the initial presumption was that Kikyo was back on her bullshit and stalking them much more brazenly than she usual did, if you could call all her ‘reminders’ to Inuyasha that he owed her for ‘killing’ her.  

But then Sango struck down a demon and the little thing cooed and preened and took the demon’s soul away to god knows where. It came back and nuzzled Sango and purred. It hissed at Inuyasha and Miroku when they got too close. It was okay with Kagome and Kilala but not really. It actively avoided Shippo and his tiny impulsive hands like the kid had the plague.

But Sango? Oh, it loved Sango. 

“Just kill it already. Could be a spy for all we know,” Inuyasha grumbled as he watched the soul collector gracefully soar back over with a tiny rock in paw which it then lovingly tossed at Sango’s face. At least it stopped bringing her tiny lizards and bugs - the worst being a cockroach dropped in the slayer’s open mouth in the middle of night.  

“I don’t think so. I mean, technically we are feeding it. It’s getting the souls it wants,” Kagome hummed as she watched Sango scritch beneath the small silver jaw earning a forlorn mew and a serpent-like began to drape itself around the slayer’s neck.

“Soul collectors do not consume souls. They simply ferry the souls of the deceased into the underworld,” Miroku corrected before sighing heavily and amending, “Or into reanimated corpses. Depending.”

“You sure about that? They have to live off something,” Inuyasha mumbled as he took an aggressive bite of a rice ball Kagome had brought then continued with a mouthful, “What else would they eat?”

Miroku frowned and seemed to consider that.“I still don’t like it just hanging out like that,” Inuyasha muttered hatefully, “It’s a god damn spy.”

Sango pouted adorably and rubbed her cheek on her little buddy who cooed appreciatively.

”Oh come on Inuyasha. Don’t be like that. He isn’t hurting anyone,” Sango sighed before baby talking at her stray noodle, “No. You won’t hurt anyone, will you? No you won’t.”

The thing mewed softly and settled in.

Inuyasha liked the little bastard even less when the next day two more showed up. These new additions were equally enthralled with the slayer who for god knows what reason did not seem to have a problem with soul collectors following her around like stray cats. 

It didn’t take long for the two newcomers to realize that lizards and bugs were not acceptable sacrifices to the Sango god. One of them even tried a rat before finally being content with tossing small sticks, flowers and blades of grass. Sango giggled and bathed them with affection like it was a perfectly normal thing to be followed around by slimy corpse noodles.

It wasn’t until she reached five noodles that Inuyasha officially had enough and when Kikyo finally made her usual appearance, he stormed into their unwanted meeting ready to knock heads because it was one thing to constantly be up his ass, threatening him, putting his friends in danger, nearly killing Kagome and a laundry list of other pointlessly terrible things…but annoyingly high pitched slithery things sent specifically to drive him insane was the straw that broke the camel’s back. His head hurt so bad he’d been letting Kagome go home as often as she wanted on the condition he could go with her.

He stormed in there ready to finally have that talk, to finally tell her to buzz off and possibly fight to the death…

“How dare you?!”

”Oh, oh, you wanna really get into it?!” Inuyasha started to snarl, “Fine. Let’s-“

”It is entirely your fault that-“

”Screw you for trying to kill Kagome. Only reason I didn’t just-“

“Cursed to live this unnatural-“

”And working with Naraku! That’s just the icing on the shit-“

”Now you have my stolen my soul collectors to wound me-“

”What have I ever-“

Cutting himself off, Inuyasha blinked as her words sunk in. Once, twice and then a feral grin curled his lips.

“Damn right I have. You come near me or my friends again and I will kill Every. Single. One,” Inuyasha hissed victoriously, “Leave me alone. Final warning.”

With that he turned on his heel, stormed back to camp and straight up to Kagome with his hand held out.

“I need headache pills,” Inuyasha hissed as he nodded towards Sango’s slippery herd, “Those things give me headaches and if they’re staying, I would like not to hurt.”

Kagome, who been pouting, blinked up at him in confusion. Her head cocked to the side.

”Staying? I thought you were going to tell her to take them back?”

”She thinks we stole them. I have leverage,” Inuyasha huffed before literally snapping at her in time, “Headache. Fix. Now.”

Kagome looked at him curiously before giving him a dour look.

”Why are you so rude?”

”Don’t know. Don’t care,” Inuyasha groaned like an  impetulant toddler, “Fix me.”

Kagome snickered quietly and retrieved the pills.

Whether or not the threat of a soul collector massacre would work was yet to be seen but it probably wouldn’t matter if it didn’t. The soul collectors would not leave their lady and savior, Sango of the Demon Slayer tribe, Killer of the Things.