#So with those two in mind: Who do you think the authors actively demonize

[blimbo-buddy]

The difference in treatment between Tom vs SparkPelt by the authors should be a dead giveaway that The Erins fucking suck

[hauntedwitch04]

Lucifer II

Nyx Acheron x reader

Words: about 2.9k words

Warnings: blood, death, murder, sad things in general, shitty biological family BUT in this a lot of fluff too :)

Author's note: This is the second part for a request by a follower on Wattpad, that I personally loved and I wrote this during the night. It's not complited, the second part will be out soon, but it was getting to long. Hope you like it loves, your witch Becky

Lucifer I

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Your breath catches in your throat as you try not to let anything show in your expression and try to come up with a plan as that monster you have for a relative moves toward you, while you still have your back to her.

"I see that as usual she does nothing." My aunt says in a croaky, sour voice to the elderly village chief, who looks at me worriedly, and then lays his eyes on her and lowers his head slightly, thus hinting at an elegant greeting, which that woman certainly does not deserve.

"I am as always at your disposal, after all, by now your word is law." Responds the elderly gentleman in a grave and sad tone, before being interrupted again by that withered crow.

"If you would do everything I've asked you to do over the years, I wouldn't have been forced to have a new boss elected in your place or even bargain with a gang of rowdy kids to make you lose your job." She shouts, chuckling at the end, looking satisfied.

"So she was the one who instigated the rebellion movements by those boys, and she's not even a little ashamed of it? And then what's this about there being two tribal leaders, I really don't think High Lord knows anything about that or he would have informed us." Says Nyx, interjecting himself into the discussion, in an authoritative and serious tone, as I hear him approach me slightly, as if he sensed my discomfort at being here right now.

"Yes, I was about to inform you that for two weeks now I have been "discharged" from my role as camp superintendent. I hope I have not offended you in this way, in case it was not my intention, just I was pleased with the idea of escorting you personally." The gentleman confesses.

"No offense taken, in fact we very much appreciated your gesture and I think I speak for both of us in thanking you." You say in a confident tone as I try hard not to lay my eyes on the worst of your nightmares, but out of the corner of your eye you see her squinting as she comes toward you, as if sensing that there was a secret in you that you were hiding from your eyes in every way.

With her, just like a demon that never dies, came your grandmother. On her face the years passed showed, but the evil spirit still shone through her eyes.

The two women, now part of your small circle, do not hide their personal conversation from your ears.

"Do you think it's her?" Your grandmother asks her daughter, but the other is too busy looking at you to answer her mother.

You feel Nyx brush against the wall you had erected in your mind, and without thinking about it you allow him to enter, knowing that either way that one would collapse at the first blow from those two harpies when they finally realized who you were.

"One nod from you and these two women will be in ashes. And remember, we can blow it all up and leave whenever you wish." He says in a calm and gentle tone, as if we were talking about the activity we prefer to do in our spare time and not about killing two people and subverting an order from his father.

"You don't even know who these women are, how can you say you want to kill them? And then what would Rhys say?" Answer trying to maintain a modicum of lucidity.

"I don't need to know who they are, if just the sight of them hurts you and makes you nervous, that's enough to slit their throats with my own hands." He argues this time in a colder, calmer tone, so much so that it makes you shiver, though I don't know if it's because of the thrill of terror at seeing that calm murderous will in his eyes, or the excitement of having someone ready to defend you so blatantly in front of everyone, to kill in your name, no matter how terrible death is.

Too engrossed in your conversation, you do not realize that your aunt had approached you and grabbed your wrist, uncovering an old scar that she had left you many years before.

Frightened you immediately retracted your wrist, crushing it against your chest, as if to hide something that unfortunately everyone had already seen.

"I knew it, I knew it, that even after all these years you would come back to finish what you started! You filthy whore! You killed my beloved husband! And your sisters, who were like daughters to me! You, you are cursed! You slut, you are nothing but scum! And now you have come to kill us too! Help! Help me!" She began shouting out of nowhere, flailing and seeking the attention of everyone in the village, but you were petrified.

How dare that witch blame you for the murder of your sisters! How could she know that they were dead! Had they found them? Had they desecrated their grave?

A blinding rage rose up through your body and there was no way to quell it. You took your sword from your side and pointed it at his neck, while the flames of hell snaked in your eyes. Nyx, by your side, had not moved an inch and neither had the elderly gentleman, knowing better that now was not the time to interfere, although doubt was painted on the handsome face of your young friend.

"Don't you dare sully their name with your poisonous mouth, you witch! If anyone has to pay for what he has done it is you, the other hag behind you and your husband, who, however, has already had to taste my blade." You say in a cold, detached tone, as if a demon had taken possession of your spirit, before letting loose in a deep, icy laugh. "I am not afraid to soil my hands with blood again, in fact I am looking forward to the pleasant sensation of my sword penetrating your throat."

"You will end up in hell for what she did, you know that right? Mother will leave you no escape." Speak this time your grandmother, who until now had been silent, but from her expression you could read a kind of resignation to what was about to happen, as if she expected that sooner or later, like an avenging angel, you would return to bring justice to earth.

"Save me a seat then, see you down there." You answer, before slitting her throat with a gesture so lightning fast that even Nyx did not expect it. She could not mask her astonishment for the first few moments, only to return to the cold mask of the prince of darkness, which you had come to appreciate with time. You had decided to kill her first, to drive her daughter, who at the moment was screaming like a little girl who finally sees the monster hiding every night under her bed, a little more crazy.

Red blood flowed out of the elderly woman's throat, soiling her dress and a little of yours as her hexamenous body fell to the ground.

However, the elderly gentleman, who was shocked by your such a violent act, said nothing and continued to look at your aunt who was now in despair tearing her hair out as she begged for someone's help from her monstrous niece.

Thus came, hearing the screams, a man whom you recognized as an old friend of your uncle's who, seeing the body of your grandmother examined and you still holding the bloody sword, ran toward you. Once he got closer, he took a better look at the scene and squared you up.

"You are the little one who killed my friend, aren't you?" He left you no time to answer that with a hidden sword, he wounded your face with the intention of frightening you and making you fall to the ground, as it happened, so that once in the mud, it would be much easier to put the sword to your throat and look into your eyes as you took your last breath.

But something you did not expect happened; he passed the sword into your aunt's hand, while the man held Nyx down, who, with the strength of a wild animal hunted by a hunter, was flailing restlessly, looking for a way to help you.

"And so ends the story of our little rebel, doesn't it? You thought you were so much smarter than us, so much better, but all you did was make my job easier. I've been waiting for years for that old woman to croak, and before that I've been waiting for that pig of a husband I got to do it, if I'm honest you did me a favor, and for that I think I'll thank you by sending you to your mommy and little sisters, what do you say?" Says your aunt in a mocking tone, as you feel the sword blade enter, slowly, more and more into your throat. You would have died there, of that you are certain. "Ah wait, you won't go to them. You've been a bad child, and as such you will burn among the worst demons, because that's what you are after all: a monster."

You do not have time to process what is happening, that the man holding Nyx hostage falls, under a mortal blow inflicted by the elderly village chief, thus freeing the young prince who, with a small knife that he always keeps hidden in his jacket sleeve, strikes your aunt in the arm so that she can no longer hold the sword, which she lets fall on your neck, scratching it slightly.

You with a quick gesture, grab the handle of the sword and move it so that your aunt crouching and bending over herself in pain, meets your weapon and kills herself, piercing her stomach with it.

"I am what you taught me to be." You say, before you could almost see his soul expire from his lips, but instead probably what you saw was a trickle of blood that came out of his mouth and, like a signature, had settled on your clothes.

You stay still for a few seconds, breathing noisily through your mouth, as if you had just finished a marathon, before the terrible fear that had triggered you inside this murderous rage comes back, and the panic rises from your belly to your brain, passing through your heart, before driving you mad.

Without warning you get up, and start running at a breakneck pace, your muscles burning and your eyes watering from the wind, to the only place where those fears could end. Your feet, without even thinking about it, carry you to the clearing where thick lavender plants cover everything. You stop to observe that wonderful sight, which hides within itself, however, a terrible secret and a sad truth. You do not realize that Nyx has followed you until he speaks, in a whisper, as if already that same place has also conveyed to him the same sacredness that it had conveyed to you years before.

"Are you okay?" He asks you, already knowing for himself how stupid that question was. A thought paints itself clear inside the young man: he should have taken you away from the very beginning, when you had been sick in the woods at the mere thought of remembering that little village.

You do not answer him, but advance through the flowers, like an automaton, until you reach the place where you know you will find two small stones, under a willow tree, with your sisters' names engraved on them.

Once you get to the place, you squat down and move the lavender to reveal those two boulders, so imprinted in your memory, that often at night they appeared as clear to you as if you were holding them.

Taken by a fit of rage, you began to uproot the various plants, so as to clear their grave, without even whom to be angry against: With you, for leaving that place for so long, almost letting the memory of your sisters be forgotten in this forest; with Mother, for snatching your sisters away from you so soon or for taking them in your place; with your aunt and uncle, for somehow killing them, making them suffer and forgetting them; or with your parents, for leaving you, even though you know perfectly well that the latter is the most irrational of all. Nyx, who had again silently followed you, also begins to pluck flowers. Once finished, you pause to look at your handiwork, but you cannot stop yourself from falling to your knees on the ground, then bursting into tears.

Nyx in the blink of an eye is beside you, but he dares not touch you, knowing that you need to vent right now.

He lets you cry for several minutes, with endless sobs, until you have no more tears to cry.

"Lucifer, do you want me to call my father? He'll take us right back home, and I'll also tell him never to let you come here again-" Nyx says then all of a sudden, all in one breath, as he looks at you with frightened eyes, before being interrupted by you.

"Why do you always call me Lucifer?" You ask in a low, rough voice, but loud enough to stop the boy, who stops and looks at you confused.

"What?"

"Why do you always call me Lucifer? Do you really think I'm as bad as the devil in the stories that go around these mountains. A three-faced monster at the head of Hell, ready to punish damn and offend the righteous? Do you really hate me that much?" You ask, showing him a side you had never before shown him, the other part of you besides the fierce and unscrupulous fighter: the weak and delicate part, which for years you had hidden in a stone prison you had built around your heart.

"Absolutely not." He replies confidently as he looks at you. You still keep your face turned toward the ground, so he takes your chin with one hand and brings your eyes up to his. "You don't know the real story of Lucifer?" He asks you, continuing to speak. You shake your head as you lose yourself in his lavender eyes, the same one that surrounds you.

"Lucifer, whose name was not yet so called, was the most beautiful angel in heaven, who decided not to bend to the will of Fate, and so because of his fighting and noble spirit he was cast down to earth, taking away his grace, but this certainly had not made him any less beautiful. The princess of the Court of Night found him when he fell, at the break of dawn, and because of his ethereal beauty she named him Lucifer, or Morning Star. The girl took him in, caring for him and giving him a life in her court, not realizing that he was slowly falling in love until he had totally won her heart." Nyx narrates, while you are silent. "Nowadays we have forgotten this story, and we associate the name of Lucifer with an ancient superstition of a barbarian people, but I like to remember instead that of a fallen angel and a simple human in love, because-" Nyx, pauses for a moment, as if weighing the words he wants to use, then continues. "Because it reminds me of how I feel about you. You never told us why you came to our family, but right from the start the first thing I thought upon seeing you was that you were the reincarnation of that angel: fallen and aching, proud and damned at the same time. You, who had always brightened my days, made me fall in love with you little by little, until I realized that there was an even deeper bond between us." He finishes, touching your left cheek with his right hand, as you feel something burst in your chest, only to see a golden thread come out of your heart to connect with his.

You stand open-mouthed at that sight as you feel more tears coming to your eyes.

"I can't believe it." You say, trying to process all the emotions you were feeling. "I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. You don't know what I've done, so many horrible things." You continue, as he nods his head.

"Don't talk nonsense, you deserve this and much more. Take all the time you want, I'll be here waiting for you." He says, and for the first time in that day, a sincere smile breaks out on your face as you can already imagine the life that awaits you by his side.

TAGLIST

@winchestergirl222 @nothingimportentreally @duda @itsmeseph @lys-neyr8 @nyotamalfoy @anonimusy @marigold-morelli @luna-1-3-5 @esposadomd @thotd-f1 @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @backups-backups @daeneeryss @hjgdhghoe @theviewfromtheotherside @e_dollly @holb32 @kierramofficial

[coffincestuous]

progress report #10

happy october!! progress report #10 is out!!! it can be found here

first things first, we have a picture of andrew and ashley back at the café they were at in episode two!! the npcs look very silly here, and i didn’t even notice that these similar shapes showed up last progress report. i wonder why they go back here?? is it for the cult?? i can see the potential there, since we’ve seen them with a different cultist in a previous progress report

this area is also close to where they murdered someone and left the body to rot, so it seems strange to me that they’d come back here!

next, we get to have a peek once again at andrew and ashley’s acting skills!! at least, i assume they’re acting, because andrew has his “most normal guy” “people pleaser” expression on here. this is now the second time that ashley has “pretended” to be dating andrew in public, which is totally normal behavior for a normal brother and sister. i do really enjoy seeing their shenanigans, and i’m so so glad that we’re getting to see them cross The Incest Line over and over again

kit9 says that due to the game’s sort of messy roadmap, “it has become increasingly difficult to maintain the current reporting format.” they’ve decided that this is the last progress report, but not the last post from kit9 studios

[id. text that says “Posts will now be some variation or mix of things such as teaser content, major announcements, surveys, responses, and sometimes author commentary, if time permits.” end id.]

nemlei finally found a spot to split episodes 3A and 4, but says there’s still a “delivery dilemma” that needs to be worked out!!

there’s a summary of the dilemma as follows:

Author - Recap and Survey

Previously on Progress Report...

Episode 3A far exceeds the estimated playtime (6 hours and counting).

Episode 3A is split in two to alleviate the discrepancy between episode sizes, creating Episode 4.

Episode 3A and 4 are still meant to be shipped together to provide a conclusive narrative experience.

Team considers releasing 3A alone to keep the game alive.

Author refuses, as Episode 3A ends on a cliffhanger no matter where it's cut.

Author flip-flops between releasing 3A alone, versus forcing everyone to wait until the entirety of the branch is complete.

Decision is reached that if the audience wants to torture themselves with a cliffhanger, let them.

[YOU ARE HERE!]

nemlei encourages those who can to answer whether or not they want episodes 3A and 4 to be released together, or to have episode 3A released without episode 4 (with a huge cliffhanger!!) for the sake of keeping the game “active.” the discussion thread can be found here!!

throughout this, there is no mention of episode 3B. poor little episode 3B… i really really wonder what’s going on in 3A and 3B for 3A to be significantly longer than 3B, apparently. 3A has a six hour playtime and it’s not even entirely finished!!!

finally, we have another episode preview!! this one is titled “Be Nice”

here we see andrew and ashley in a dream plus demon realm. the demon dreamscape. the dreamonscape, if you will.

i’m thinking this is from the friendship burial route… burial, because ashley is once again reassuring herself that they’re getting along. in decay, ashley isn’t as unsteady in her relationship with andrew, and he’s much colder to her. i don’t think decay andrew would say he doesn’t mind giving ashley a hug, or say that he’s always nice to ashley, as this andrew does

with (the player, as) ashley choosing “the sane option” in her dream in episode two, she signals to him and to us that his romantic affection for her isn’t what she wants. obviously she wants his attention and affection, but she doesn’t return his romantic feelings in friendship burial. he sees that she doesn’t want a romantic relationship with him, and tries to interact with her without the romantic connotations of his actions, like kissing her head. she notices the change, as we see, and feels uneasy about that change for several reasons, but it’s a step in the Morally Correct and Healthy direction for both of them!!

i could be wrong, though :3

i don’t know why, if this were romance burial, andrew would refrain from kissing her head. it could be because of the hex that the unknown entity put on him, i guess, since we still don’t really know what’s going on with that (besides seeing andrew’s little soul running around in the dreamonscape). but, if they indicated to each other that they’re interested romantically in each other, why wouldn’t he kiss her head?? kiss her head, andrew. you know you want to. nothing is stopping you. kiss your little sister’s head.

overall, some pretty good progress reporting this time around!! it’s a shame that kit9 is fizzling them out two months short of a year of progress reports, but we’ll still be getting teasers and updates from them, so i’m not too put-out about it!!

see you next month!!

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Hello The Queen of Crows and Raccoons and I would like Undertale, Underfell, Underswap, HorrorTale, and any others you can think of with a S/O who have befriended all the Crows and Raccoons in like the neighborhood. Maybe their on the surface but that’s up to you. Thank you and have a good day/night!

Undertale Sans - He doesn't mind. He's actually not helping at all by feeding the crows and raccoons because he thinks they're cute. As long as his S/O is happy with this, he's happy. Plus it's pissing off Papyrus everytime he visits and that's priceless.

Undertale Papyrus - He's losing his mind. Those wild animals are unsanitary, for the love of Asgore and his freackin mind, stop touching them! He will drag you to the bathroom every time you're coming back home to wash your hands. He doesn't want any of the animals in his house, but, well, he's not here all day long so he'll never know.

Underswap Sans - Oh cool! He can do that too! Somehow, all the raccoons love him and join him at night for no reason, now you two can do that together as a fun activity. You have raccoon reunions in the kitchen and you gave all raccoon and crow a codename in your new delirious plan to take control of the world. Your Karen neighbour calls the cops on you as you both start to laugh like maniacs.

Underswap Papyrus - He thought he would be done once his brother got his independance but here you are, in the middle of the night, comploting with raccoons. Is this a secret cult or something? Are you passing too much time with his brother? Why no one around him is having normal hobbies? He's having a mental breakdown.

Underfell Sans - "listen pal, that's none of my business, you do you and stuff. but if boss catches you with 150 random birds and raccoons home, ya're fucked and i ain't saving yar ass." Boss comes home right at this moment, making him your partner in crime as he's standing near you. Red sighs. Not only Boss will fuck you up, but he will sure do to after this.

Underfell Papyrus - He's screeching hysterically, doing wild arms movement to make all the wild animals flee in fear. The animals are watching him in consternation, wondering what the hell he's doing, then you, looking for an explanation. You shrug and they take that for you authorizing them to attack the big moving weird thing, all at one. Edge runs out of the house, screaming as he's running for his life chased by your true people.

Horrortale Sans and Papyrus - Oak for sure will tell nothing as he's exactly like you and brings all kind of wild animals home. You were cuddling against a bear, circled by crows and raccoons where Willow came home. He looks at you two, in disbelief, then let go a "I WON'T EVEN ASK WHY. I DON'T WANT TO KNOW. MAKE THEM LEAVE BEFORE DINNER." You both nod and he goes on with his day, not questionning it.

Swapfell Sans - In the morning, you wake up abruptly as Nox throws a tone of salt in your face. You scream, asking what is his problem. He screams back that he saw you doing satanic rituals with your hellbound pets and that's you're for sure not summoning any frickin demon in his house under his watch. He's going to purify you, stop moving and arguing!

Swapfell Papyrus - His room is already trash so a bunch of crows and raccoons in are no problem. He really doesn't mind and he's even digging in trash with the raccons sometimes cause it looks like fun. Nox is actively trying to kick both of you out of the house.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He hates animals. Any kind of animals. They're dirty, they're stinky, and right now they are everywhere in his house and he's rolling on the ground, throwing a temper tantrum like a 5 years old child. You're concerned, as he's screaming to take them away or he's going to scream. You're not obeying. He high-pitch screams so loud all the animals flee in fear, including you and Coffee, who was just chilling in the couch.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Wine said no animals home so you had to find a trick. Coffee tries to keep his face normal, but he's very uncomfortable, having 20 raccoons in his ribcage, fighting to get out. Wine is looking at him from his desk, frowning, wondering why he's going from outside to your room for the sixth time looking more and more weird. Coffee quickly runs in your room and lets go his raccoons, adding them to the 80 ones already in there with you. You tell him there's still some outside. He nods and goes back to fill his ribcage.

[ask-de-writer]

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to CLASSICAL FANTASIES

THE FISHERMAN'S LEG (Part 20 of 20)

A sequel to Dee 1/2 Demon

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

25570 words

© 2023 by Glen Ten-Eyck

All rights reserved. This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

TUMBLR EXEMPTION

Blog holding members of Tumblr.com may freely reblog this story provided that the title, author and copyright information remain intact, unaltered, and are displayed at the head of the story.

Fan art, stories, music, cosplay and other fan activity is actively encouraged.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

New to the story? Read from the beginning HERE.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

The others all laughed but just a little thoughtfully. As they were leaving the Tribunal, Takahara shook her head and noted, “I am less good than I thought. I find myself hoping that Minami will try to escape and thereby lose his head.”

High Priest Nandi san nodded a bit sadly, “Beings such as Minami often bring such thoughts to disturb the tranquility of the mind and heart. It is not a discredit to you that you feel so. It is a natural response to such as he. In his own way, he is worse than most Oni.”

Tanira looked up at the angle of the sun as she and her new daughters strolled towards the waterfront and asked Patsu, “Have we still time to launch the Rising Dawn today? It seems to be fine weather for it.”

Patsu looked about, smiling at kites being flown from one of two small hills just out of the village. She agreed, “It is a fine day and yes, we have plenty of time.

“Mikore told me that they are offering fried dumplings with minced crab filling over at our market. Let's grab some of those or other goodies, some rice and tea. We have plenty of time for a nice, if late, noon meal before we launch her.”

The crab dumplings were actually quite good. They were all happily agreed that the best item was a new offering. Sand shark fillet steamed first and then tempura dipped and fried to a light golden tan. Tea, rice, and some stir fried vegetables finished the meal nicely.

The newly finished Rising Dawn was pulled out of the Chiasu Estate boat house where it had been moved after the hull was done to finish setting up her rigging and sail. Using a pulling block and the same cart that was used to put away their smaller rental rowing boats, she was eased down the boat ramp to the water by the dock.

Several of the men owning some of the other fishing boats came to watch, faces clouded, brows drawn down in anger. “Tanira san, why are you setting up a boat for serious fishing? Do you really think that you can cut us out or lower the prices that you pay us?”

Tanira shook her head at their rudeness. “No, Satura san, we are not in any way trying to cut you out of anything. If you had only waited to see how the Rising Sun is rigged, you would know that. My boat is set up for trolling and the like line fishing.

“What we seek are cod, snappers, and such things. For you they are an occasional lucky by catch. If you have them, you will continue to get the same good prices as you have been.”

“One of my men told me that Minami . . .”

Patsu interrupted, “The child murdering thief who was just this day divorced from the honorable Tanira san? You expect him to say anything that would not cause her further harm?

“Even after it was proved in the Tribunal that all of his lies about Dee san being some sort of Sorcerous monster were totally false, he still tried to blame her for all of his problems! He ordered us to not finish healing his leg but still blames us for it not being neatly healed.

“He is madder than a sand flea!”

Abashed, Satura san cringed back a little and looked down, scraping his sandal on the wood of the dock. “That is true. We followed his lead and respected him for many years. I apologize for our unjust behavior.”

Tanira straightened up, bowing acceptance, she asked, “So will we be seeing you tomorrow at the public dock to buy your fish?”

“We will be there, Tanira san. I heard that you adopted Minara san and Takahara san. That is well done. We have seen how well you all work together and get along.

“May we watch the sea trials of your Rising Dawn?”

Dee chuckled as she strapped herself into floats, “Of course you may!” She pointed to the floats and added, “Yes, I can swim, though I don't really like to. My Aspect of Fire doesn't really get along with water!”

That drew a general laugh.

With all made ready, they cast off from the dock, stern line first and then the bow. A solid push from a boat hook gave them the room to unship the oars and begin rowing the Rising Dawn out a ways from the dock.

They let the boat coast while they raised the sail. It rose up along the fairly short mast, spreading out into a triangular fan shape, reaching from nearly the bow back just short of the stern and lifting well above the top of the mast. About a third of the sail was in front of the mast.

The Rising Dawn began to drift sideways. Wisely, one of the watchers commented, “Wind's wrong for this. It's going to just push them back to shore.”

Another of the watchers, shading his eyes with his hand, replied, “Don't think so. See, they are picking up speed going across the wind.”

Satura san added, “They are turning into the wind! Look! They are tacking around forty or forty five degrees into the wind. Now they are turning again! Still steep into the wind but coming back . . . And again, going back like they were before. Zigzaging right into the wind! I will have to talk to them about that rig! I might want to do one like it for my Sea Gull!”

They all watched as the Rising Dawn went sidways to the wind but slowly now. “They've put out a boom of some sort. I expect that is for their trolling.” Only a little time passed before, “Whoops! They either got a snag or they hooked something fair sized! Look at that boom bend!”

Aboard the Rising Dawn, Tanira and the girls were excitedly watching the trolling boom / crane bend nearly to the water. Patsu was manning the boom's line winch. She was counseling the others, “Get the big framed net to finish catching it! Takahara san, be ready to club it on the head when it is safely in the net! Be ready with a boat hook to the gills to finish pulling it in!

“Look! We can see it now! That snapper must be nearly a pace and a half long!”

The next few minutes were an organized chaos as they netted the fish in the framed net and pulled it up snug to the side of the boat! Takahara wielded the stout club to it's head to kill it! Dee slid the boat hook into it's gills and lifted the big snapper into the boat. It only took a moment to get the hook free and put the near monster into the catch box.

The triumphant girls made all sail for the public docks of Sabo, close to the Fish Market! Along the way, they caught three sand sharks as well! It was not long before they dropped the sail and finished their approach by oars.

The young women watching the Fish Market for Tanira saw them coming and sprinted down to the dock, pulling the cart with the box for fish on it!

The fishermen converged on them too! All wanted to know, “What did you catch!?”

As they were opening the Rising Dawn's catch box, Patsu smirked, “Just three moderate size sand sharks! And the biggest snapper that Sabo's ever seen!”

As they were loading the cart, one of the girls that had been watching the Fish Market was weeping quietly.

Miko asked gently, “Ontara san, what has you upset? You did a wonderful job keeping the Fish Market open and this trial of the Rising Dawn has gone very well.”

Ontara sniffled, “I wish that Ichuru was here to see it. I gave him the toy boat that got him drowned.”

Miko gave her a hug and replied, “No, Ontara san, it was not the toy boat that got him drowned. It was Minami, whose mind was twisted to evil by his leg.”

“His leg? What was wrong with his leg?”

Miko shook her head in bemusement as she explained, “He thought that he was transported to the Hospice by magic because he did not understand that he gave himself a deadly case of Gangrene. That started his fears. Then he thought that he saw us do something evil and forbade us to finish healing it. That caused a great scar that his working pants always hid. Only he was bothered by it but it drove him mad that he was scarred. That and his fear drove him to attacking us with lies, slanders, and even trying to ruin things of ours. It was that same madness that made him kidnap Ichuru and take him out in a stolen fishing boat.

“He demanded that a ten year old boy prove that he was a man by taking off the floats that would have saved him when he did fall in. His father and the others did not even notice when he went overboard.

“It was Minami, who drove himself to madness because of his leg, that killed Ichuru. His father gave him only anger and hate. You gave him a wonderful toy that he loved.

The END

<==PREVIOUS

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to CLASSICAL FANTASIES

[geometricalien]

Ooooohhh 3 akafuri WIPs??? Sign me up!! I'm curious what they are about, if you don't mind sharing ~

I'm glad to share! Most of these have chapters already posted (because self motivation can only get me so far lol) and I'll make sure to add a link for the ones that do

εὐήλιος - Act 2 of my ancient greece au which is more or less a retelling of the trojan war with the generation of miracles where akashi is "achilles" and furihata is "patroclus" if you know those names you know how this ends but I hope to make my take interesting and unique! Act 2 is the beginning and middle of the war where akafuri are an established couple taking on "troy" and them working through their problems as a real couple. I like this one alot bc it's the main idea I've been playing with for almost 3 years and as such it's very self indulgent.

Things That Hold Us Together: Steel Bolts and Tender Hearts - war android akashi is reawakened by technician furihata and decides to stay with him. That's what is on the can but it's been proving harder for me to develop character growth or a theme.

Sidenote: android/human aus tend to work because the character who is the android is the "bubbly personable" one while the character who is the human is "cold mean rude or similarly detached from normal social conventions" and an underlying question in the fic is what makes them so different if the android is more "humanlike" than the actual human? Alas this general theme is not applicable to my wip - this is just one example of my difficulties building this wip

Every Family Has Their Traditions - Newlyweds Akashi and Furihata are invited to play a game of Hide and Seek with Akashi's family on their wedding night but not everything is as it seems. This is based on my beloved Ready or Not (2019) horror movie (however I've added some distinctly akafuri twists to fit the ship, the akashi family, and the gender role/conventions of marriage) its a movie I've watched countless times and can't help plastering these two characters faces on the main leads (I even have fanart that I drew of akashi and furihata as screenshots from the film!!)

I started this half bc of my fascination with akafuri in the roles and half bc I reaaaaalllly wanted a horror fic involving them which leads me to-

Trust Me Darling Dear - This is in the beginning stages (and has been for months, rewriting, scrapping- it's a mess) but I'm hopeful that I'll convey what I want! I just need to see what I don't want first lol also we need more horror akafuri!!! As a treat! For me! Akafuri lends itself so well to the themes of comedy and horror- we got the comedy in butloads but it's time for horror- and I know that everyone who still ships them is. Hesitant to write Akashi in any light that could potentially demonize DID and there are authors who have managed to write these excellent surrealistic horror fics and I want to join them!

Read @carrot-felisidad 's Hannibal au series and @medium-dippers 's chainsawman oneshot! Edit: Tumblr keeps eating these links 😡

Unnamed wip - High school sweethearts that broke up meet once again after a decade apart on a flight back home from the usa. Alot of the time my ideas are spawned from one scene and it's hard to look past the one moment. In this I'm just hooked on the moment Furihata is settling in his seat and Akashi turns to greet him- they both call still, too stunned to say anything as their eyes rove over the love of their life and comparing them to their memories, seeing the physical manifestation of time in the fine lines around their eyes or mouth, how Furihata has this intense need to run away and also hold on tight to Akashi's arm. How they try to do small talk before it falls off and they steal glances at each other- ughhhhh they disgust me

And lastly,

Unnamed 5 +1 - the slow break up of akafuri from other people's perspectives. yeP

Those are all my current wips (if you don't count the ones that I'm not trying to actively think about- I got a star trek au, a cowboy/western au (that will never get developed agdhsjsh), and a waiter/regular au) thank you for the ask!!

[voice-freedom]

The Hidden Agenda of RACIRS: Manipulating Minds, Dividing Nations

In the shocking video Different Countries, the Same Script | What Do the Media Do to People?, a volunteer from ALLATRA specifically reveals the Truth that RACIRS, acting in a coordinated and large-scale manner, are capable of changing the course of American history through an attempt on Trump, and even the entire world.

The video Different Countries, the Same Script | What Do the Media Do to People?

also discusses the following:

What’s especially alarming is that politicians targeted by those campaigns naively attribute them to the actions of their political opponents, thereby overlooking a far more global threat. This mistake has proven fatal for many people. In reality, there is a much more powerful force behind these attacks — a force with significant international influence. Ultimately, all threads lead in one direction: the Russian pro-religious organization RACIRS and its leader, Alexander Dvorkin. To support my claims, let me provide a few examples. Certain anticultists who follow my videos (for reasons that are clear) have criticized me for being overly emotional.

Fine. Today, let’s stick to the facts.

Let’s take the case I already mentioned: the assassination attempt on Donald Trump, then a candidate for the U.S. presidency. As you may recall, Trump narrowly escaped with his life, sustaining a wound to his ear. This attack came almost immediately, just months after the attempt on Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico. Similarities between the two incidents are so striking that even Fico remarked on them in a Facebook post, noting that the attack on Trump followed almost a "copycat scenario."

In both cases, a mechanism of mass informational conditioning, well-tested by RACIRS, was launched through controlled media long before the attacks. Those supposedly "independent" outlets systemically injected subliminal implants in the public consciousness, aimed at inciting division and fostering hatred toward the targets. In the lead-up to Trump’s assassination attempt, anticultists and their media agents actively demonized and dehumanized him, branding him as a "cult leader" and his supporters as "cultists," meaning, sectarians.

As early as in 2019, American anticultist Steven Hassan, formerly engaged in deprogramming — that involved abducting individuals and subjecting them to psychological and physical abuse for profit — published his book “The Cult of Trump”. There, he employed the manipulative tactic of guilt by association, comparing Trump to figures like Jim Jones, David Koresh, Ron Hubbard, and Sun Myung Moon — individuals whom anticultists have long portrayed as leaders of dangerous, destructive cults.

Hassan went even further, claiming that all Americans who supported Trump were members of a "cult" who, according to Hassan, were in a state of hypnotic submission and unaware of their own actions. Such claims carry an implicit message that Trump supporters are no longer free-thinking individuals, but brainwashed followers incapable of critical thought or objective assessment of their leader. Moreover, Hassan portrayed Trump as a narcissistic leader who cared about no one but himself.

To make it clear for you, this wasn’t just another book about Trump by an obscure author. At some point, the anticult narratives propagated by Hassan and other anticultists were picked up and actively promoted by leading American media outlets like The New York Times, The Washington Post, and others. Moreover, Hassan, the author of “The Cult of Trump,” suddenly became a sought-after guest on major American TV channels. There, he confidently and persistently spread key dehumanizing narratives about Trump and his supporters. Somehow, Hassan even managed to appear on CNN as an "expert," openly advocating for the forced "deprogramming" of American citizens. He suggested that worldviews of Americans need to be forcibly altered because, as he claims, Donald Trump has already negatively influenced the entire nation.

Скриншот из видео: Different Countries, the Same Script | What Do the Media Do to People?

"And the fact is that all of America needs deprogramming because Donald Trump has negatively influenced all of us."

If we dig just a little bit deeper and look at the facts that are in plain sight, it becomes clear that anticultist Steve Hassan is not only connected to other anticultists in the USA, but also in Europe and Russia. In particular, a number of facts point to his ties with RACIRS, which is covered in detail in “The IMPACT” documentary, so you can watch it and see it for yourselves.

Now, tell me: how is it possible for one anticultist to exert such significant influence without substantial backing and solid funding from someone highly interested in propagating the demonizing narratives about Trump to the masses? Clearly, such a sustained, targeted campaign must be supported by a powerful third party.

And here's another question: if this rhetoric is harmless, why is so much effort being made to amplify narratives on major media platforms about Trump's supposed "cultishness"? The goal is obvious: to foster a negative perception of Trump and his supporters within American society, portraying them as a "threat" and "subhumans" that must be "eliminated."

Holocaust screenshot

This type of dehumanizing rhetoric was widely used by the Nazis against the Jewish population in the past, ultimately leading to a horrific genocide and the deaths of millions of innocent people. This kind of rhetoric inevitably results in violence against a labeled victim, which is perceived as justified and acceptable by those infected with the virus of hate.

Don’t you see clear parallels? And this is just referencing the Nazi manipulation techniques directly adopted by anticultists from Nazi ideologists like Walter Künneth. Add to this more advanced methods of behavior programming employed by modern ideologists from RACIRS and their agents, and it becomes apparent that the assassination attempt on Trump was a predictable outcome of such a demonizing media campaign.

In this case, as part of their global strategy to methodically destabilize the United States from within, ideologists from RACIRS found it more advantageous if Trump did not become a president.

Why?

Because, despite all his controversies, Trump represents an uncontrollable variable in their meticulously calculated plan. Especially given that Trump, a staunch proponent of genuine democracy, became a victim of their manipulative technologies himself. His unpredictability and determination to uphold democratic principles poses a direct threat to the plans of RACIRS ideologists aimed at establishing shadow control over American society.

In this context, the attempt on Trump's life was not just an isolated act of political violence, but a demonstration of how catastrophically vulnerable democracy is when faced with the threat of neo-Nazism revived by Russian anticultists from RACIRS. They have already turned the US political arena into a battleground for informational warfare. Under the guise of advocating free speech, they are systematically destroying foundations of democracy, sowing chaos, and deepening divisions among Americans.

Watch the full video Different Countries, the Same Script | What Do the Media Do to People?

for more details about this.

[j-graysonlibrary]

The Xiang Chronicles: Book Two Chapter 27

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Two

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 98k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: With another Xiang in the mix, for the first time in history, Pangu decides to reevaluate his methods and his place in the world. Along with taking his little sister Heidi as his last disciple, he also chooses to take the more political path in his efforts to end the discord throughout the land—particularly within Terra. (And gaining favor from the handsome Lord of Ultimos does not hurt.)

Heidi butts heads with everyone in the group, save Raine, and tensions are higher than ever. There are failed love confessions, in-group fighting, and demons from Kira’s past but that all comes to a head when they meet a servant of Shakti who is more than what she seems.

Could it be that the Mistresses of Shadow are more nuanced than previously believed? Or that the strict dichotomy between light and dark are, perhaps, a touch exaggerated? That and more begin to plague Pangu’s mind and his faith wavers…

Full chapter 27 under the cut

Chapter XXVII:

The world felt still and far too cold. Pangu heard the words that came out of Merra’s mouth but he had a difficult time believing them. Yet, at the same time, it was impossible not to believe. There was plenty of evidence that her words rang true—much of Pangu’s travels lately had been putting him at odds, mentally, with his old path. It was really just the fact he did not want this to be reality. He did not wish to be faced with this crossroads in which the correct path was the unknown one, away from the familiar light.

There was no going back. No matter which choice he made, no matter what he did or said. He could feel it in his gut.

Kira’s tongue clicking was the only thing that took Pangu’s attention away from Merra. “Oh, fuck this,” his disciple said before throwing one of his many knives.

It sang across the air and embedded itself into the neck of one of the soldiers. Specifically, the one holding Viren hostage.

Blood spurted forth as the knife was immediately pulled out by a burst of air. Pangu had not done it and, normally, that would mean it was due to Heidi but now he was not sure. There were two other possibilities.

But, when the knife slashed across the ropes holding Viren in place, it became obvious that is was, actually, Heidi and not the other wind disciple, Gongji, or Merra. The barrier around Viren, as well, seemed to be down but that had most likely been held in place by the new Xiang and she had not thought to keep it active during the confrontation.

“Hey!” One of the other disciples yelled as Viren rushed down to where Oli was, hiding behind Raine.

Merra shook her head and stretched her arm out in front of her Enlil and Kyrie disciples. “Now, now, this does not need to escalate into a fight again.” Even if she was speaking to them, her eyes were set on Pangu.

He did not blink. “I do not wish to fight you, Merra, but I cannot agree to what you are doing.”

“So you turn your back on our teachers? On Tiandi?” She set a hand over her heart while her brows furrowed deeply. Her sincerity was difficult to gauge and that fact made Pangu all the more nervous.

“No offense,” Kira started but then immediately back tracked, “Oh wait, no, full offense, but those teachers you have are shit. Why not think for yourself instead of blindly following orders?”

“Yeah!” Heidi seconded. “This whole thing is clearly poor planning. My brother was helping to bring together Terra and no one died when he did it!”

“This looks like a mad scramble for power—nothing more,” Baiya added.

Pangu was glad to have them all behind him (though he would not have ever doubted them, to be fair) and he glanced between each of them with a faded smile. Heidi was closest with her axe gripped in both hands, bouncing between her heels, ready to go. Farther right was Baiya, also with his weapon out, staring down the new disciples in anticipation. At his left was Kira, in less of a fighting stance than the others but Pangu knew from experience that he was actually ready to let knives fly at any second despite his seemingly relaxed posture. Then there was Raine—trident in front of him and Viren and Oli behind him, shielded.

“For their existence, Xiang have never been meant to be political tools yet this entire plan stinks of politics,” Raine said after shooting a glance behind his shoulder, making sure the lord and lord-in-training were both safe and okay.

“So Pangu is allowed freedom to do what he wishes but I am held to the old standards?” Merra griped and then shook her head as if to disregard the entire conversation.

“I think you know what the difference is,” Pangu responded anyway. He had made a conscious effort to move into political territory only after she had been named a Xiang and it was a long, arduous decision—one he made personally and not with the council of his elders. She had been specifically instructed by the same people who had warned Pangu of the dangers of political involvement.

He stepped forward and held up his hands, ready to fight fire with fire—literally, if need saw it—and he met her eyes.

Merra, however, chuckled. “You want to fight? The five of you against the five of us, my army, and the spirits?”

Pangu shook, an insidious fear gripping him even as he tried to thwart it. They could win, they were better trained and, as a whole, had been at the Xiang thing for longer. He kept repeating those facts to himself but it did not help to steady his legs much.

“Fine then.” Merra’s face soured when no one put their weapons away. She let her hands fall at her sides but she whistled out, the shrill sound bouncing through the empty hall.

The action was baffling until a whistle answered her. It was much quieter and more direct and it also ended when it made contact with Kira’s neck. A dart, long and feathered, stuck from him but he pulled it off in a hurry. He was not quick enough, however, and he fell to his knees and then to the ground, face first.

Raine rushed over, shouting “Kira!” along with everyone else. He turned him over so he would not drown in the stagnant water. At the same time, Baiya spotted where the dart had come from and he held up his hand, seeing nothing but red.

“Fuck you!” He growled as he roasted the soldier on the balcony. His fire engulfed the man entirely, sending him up in a crackling flame that drew out a few agonizing screams before the flesh was completely cooked.

He was next.

The fire from his hand died and Baiya stumbled to his knees. A dart stuck him in his arm, just above his elbow and, at the last second, he made an effort to land on his back at least.

Pangu looked between his other standing disciples, Viren, and Oli. Each of them slapped a hand to a different part of their body where they had also been hit. One after the other, they fell, down into the shallow pool of water.

Judging by their breaths and their energy, they were not dead—just knocked out. That did not still the anger in Pangu any, however.

Fire flickered in his palms and he stepped closer to the new Xiang and her disciples. He would fight all of them at once if necessary. Wind whipped up around him and he sent out a few, individual gusts to retrieve the soldiers with the blow darts. Even if he knew they were up there, he did not wish to have to keep up a barrier around himself in case they reloaded and shot at him.

Pangu knocked them each against the walls, rendering them unconscious as well and letting their bodies fall to the ground. He did not look away from Merra the entire time and he kept glaring at her when he held up the other soldiers with air and slowly choked them.

“Gongji, get them,” she instructed without blinking.

It was a struggle for Gongji to release the air’s hold on the men but, once he did, he escorted them out of the throne room. The other three disciples jumped in front of Merra, each eager for combat.

The Kyrie disciple, Bofu, collected the water in the room, ready to send it in Pangu’s direction. He created a cyclone of water and hurled it forward but Pangu did not move.

The spout erupted into a cloud of steam around Pangu. Kubja struck next, jutting out a line of earth toward him. Pangu held out his hand and stopped it, even pushing it back toward the old man who struggled to expend any more energy.

“Keep him occupied,” the Agni disciple shouted and began to manifest a ball of fire.

Pangu already knew the plan so he shoved the earth harder, sending Kubja and Bofu back to the far wall. He then absorbed the fire and shot it back at Ashoka without any regard.

Merra pulled her Agni disciple in closer to her and wrapped them in a barrier or air while the fire lipped off and around them

As Pangu blasted them with all of the energy and anger he felt, he forgot that the Enlil disciple had left. He was abruptly reminded when the man floated down from the rafters and blew a small tornado toward him. Since it was so sudden, there was little time to prepare and Pangu just shielded himself and anchored his feet down with the earth.

“You may have more experience than we do but we will wear your energy down eventually,” Merra said with certainty, “You cannot fight us all on your own.”

“But I will,” he argued, whipping up more energy around himself, ready for the next round.

“I do not just mean myself and my disciples, Pangu,” she continued and glided forward and down the steps to be level with him. With a wide gesture of her arm, the air behind her right side shimmered. “I mean them.”

A ripple formed in the space and a light blue color emerged, slowly taking form. Like a long, thick worm at first and then the details sharpened. Shining scales, long, hair-like whiskers, and a face as fierce as a wild beast. The crystalline eyes were especially callous and regarded Pangu with what felt like hatred.

Not even the full body was on display—there was not enough room for it—only the head and a few feet of the neck emerged from the portal but that alone was suffocating.

“I told you the spirits were on my side.” Merra looked to the dragon with an upturned lip. “There are countless among them who would be willing to help me fight…you do not stand a chance.”

The prospect of fighting a great dragon from the spiritual realm was daunting, surely, and Pangu recalled his youth when he wanted nothing more than to look upon one of them at least once before death. He could not exactly appreciate the opportunity now.

His heart pounded all the way up into his ears and his hairline soaked with sweat but he still raised his hands, sparking to life new flames in each palm.

“You stubborn fool,” Merra cursed before throwing her arm out toward him. “Subdue him!”

Bright blue light grew in the dragon’s eyes and mouth. Pangu watched it closely and waited. He waited until the very last second and then he dove out of the way.

He hit the ground and rolled onto his shoulder as the jet of water pelted the front entrance to the throne room with enough force to break the door from its hinges.

Adrenaline brought him back to his feet but he still only had the reaction time of a mortal. By the time he was standing, the dragon had already recharged and was shooting out water again. Pangu attempted to run to the side but the edge of the attack hit his arm, throwing him back and slowing him down.

The dragon had only to turn her head and aim the full force of her attack at the Xiang.

He was sent into a pillar, crashing against it and being held there until the pressure let up. His legs refused to cooperate and it was difficult to breathe.

Pangu coughed and tasted blood as he slid to the ground. His vision blurred and he worried how hard his head had smacked against the marbling.

The image of Merra and the dragon went in and out of focus but he refused to pass out. Darkness lingered in his peripherals but he stared at her, unyielding.

“Pangu,” she said, “Do not fight anymore or I will instruct her to kill your disciples. Do you understand?”

He tried to nod but no part of him was listening. So he muttered. “I…yes.”

Merra walked closer, splashing through water until she was just a few feet from Pangu. She kneeled down and reached out to him, holding his face up with her hand propped under his chin. “Listen to me. Your mentors do not want you to suffer. There is a way for you to remain Xiang and alive. Your disciples and Lord Viren will be taken to the dungeon instead of executed. Are you interested?”

The edges of his vision grew darker and Pangu struggled and kept his eyes on her. “What is it…that you want?” he forced the words out.

He might not have been able to see her well but he could see that she smiled then. “You and I will marry, here in Ultimos. It is a ceremony of unity and it will calm the people…give them hope. Will you both inspire the people and ensure the safety of your disciples, Pangu? Or will you fight only to watch them all die?”

It was not as if he truly had a choice. Her wording really frustrated him but he did manage to nod. “I will do it…”

“Good choice,” as she spoke, the dragon slowly faded out, returning to the spirit realm.

Pangu continued to fight for consciousness but his body won out in the end. Still, he woke up occasionally, usually in transit with someone carrying his body. His view was of the ground as he was thrown over a shoulder, making him even more lightheaded and that forced him back to the abyss.

When he really woke up, he was bound and sitting in a carriage, sandwiched between Gonji and Merra. An oppressive veil of energy was blanketed over him, preventing him from any sudden escapes. It was not as if he was in any physical condition to try anything, he thought.

His mind quickly switched to his disciples, Viren, and Oli. They were to be taken to the dungeons but Pangu hoped they would wake up on the way and free themselves. Then, maybe they could free him as well.

It was little more than wishful thinking, he knew, but it kept him from despairing too much as he bounced around in the carriage, headed to an unknown destination.

The room he was led to was on the first floor of the temple to Tiandi at the center of Ultimos. It was an impressive building and one that could be seen from almost anywhere in the city yet Pangu had not visited it before this moment. He barely got a view of the inside before he was pushed through a door.

There were actually two doors, one after the other. The first opened into a short hallway which led to the second. And, beyond that second door was a small room with one window.

Before Pangu could get ahead of himself with thoughts of escape, he noticed a strong energy coming from the window, suggesting spiritual activity. He could not tell what kind of spirit guarded it at first glance but he could discern that, if he were to touch the window, he would probably be harmed in some way.

Merra and her disciples piled into the room as well and she kept her hand on Pangu’s arm as she instructed them. “Bofu, check on the prisoners—make sure the proper locks are in place. Ashoka and Gongji, find the event planner and speak to them about the weekend plans. Kubja, guard the door.”

Each of them nodded and left, only Kubja did not leave the second door, he stood in front of it.

Pangu sat down on the edge of the bed. It was the nicest part of the otherwise plain room with four posters and a white, nearly transparent canopy over the top. He had to push the canopy aside to properly sit. “So the wedding is this weekend, huh?”

Merra chucked under her breath and began to pace in front of him. “The sooner the better, I believe.”

“Was this my mentors’ plan as well? This marriage?”

She smiled for a second. “Yes. They do not want to let you go, I think, but they have agreed that you can no longer be trusted to make decisions on your own. At best, you are a figure head and, so long as you play your part, everyone can be a little happier.”

Pangu felt sick but he still had questions, even if he was slightly afraid of the answers. “And then what? After the marriage?”

“You will stay here…maybe give speeches every so often or lead events in the city to keep morale high.”

“No, I meant for you.”

Merra stopped pacing and stared at him. “Oh.” She walked slowly to one side then stopped again. “We figure once Terra is united, we can turn to Enlil next. The royal situation there is divided so they will either bend with ease or we can incite a civil war to make them weaker and take them one by one. Kyrie is the challenging one since they are under one King. Hopefully, with enough diplomacy, we can arrange an alliance. Then we go against Shakti.”

Pangu felt his brows dip as a frown formed on his face. “What about Agni?”

“What about them? They will never join an alliance with the Xiang.” Merra scoffed as though it were obvious. “Plus, having an outlying country will give the Chaaya and Shakti somewhere to flee to. We can agitate them into showing themselves and then we launch a full attack. All of our forces against hers.”

“With the people of Agni as collateral damage?”

“There you are again, focusing on the small details,” she replied and turned on her heel, facing away from him. Her guard was still up and in full force, however. “Your slow and steady approach cannot be used now. This has become a war and we need to have as many people on our side as possible if we have any hope of winning.”

“This could change the world forever,” he mumbled, horrified.

“I know!” Merra turned back around with a wide smile. “Is it not exciting? This could be our last fight against Shakti. We could end her for good!”

Was that what their mentors had promised her? Pangu wondered. She seemed to have no thoughts or ideas of her own, aside what she had been told and it was that quality that, almost certainly, attracted Tiandi. Her blind devotion and willingness to do, quite literally, whatever she was told was both sad and terrifying.

“I see you are not understanding,” Merra said, getting his attention back on her. Her brow furrowed for a second before she narrowed her eyes. “Or you do understand but you are unhappy about the idea.”

“I have made my stance quite clear, I believe.” Pangu did not have the mental strength to comb through every single pitfall of her “plan”. Despite that, he still said, “Your methods will kill a lot of innocent people.”

As if to purposefully paint herself in an even worse light, she rolled her eyes. She then began to pace yet again. “Only evil people. Those who defy me and, by extent, Tiandi.”

“You cannot possibly believe that,” Pangu responded, his jaw unable to close.

Merra wagged her index finger about. “The righteous will fall in line. And, if you are worried about your disciples in this scenario, so long as you uphold your side of things, they will be safe as well. I promise. Even the ex-Chaaya can be offered divine providence if you follow Tiandi’s new plans for you.”

He did not trust her at all and he could no longer look at her.

She must have taken that as some sort of sign to move in closer. Though she did not put her hands on him, Pangu could still feel her presence battering down over the top of him.

“This is not personal, Pangu. I think you should know that. I hold no ill will toward you…” Merra took a softer tone and then stepped away. “You should get some rest. Meditate on this and, perhaps, Tiandi will bless you with divine understanding, as He has for me.”

The sound of the door clicking closed let Pangu know that she was gone and, in his solitude, he lay back on the bed and stared at the canopy, feeling the pit in his stomach grow and writhe.

Perhaps meditation was not a bad idea after all. Perhaps, through it, he could find a way to speak to his old teachers again. He had no hope in getting Merra to listen to him but maybe they would lend him their ear?

He closed his eyes when he realized he had no faith in them either. He had no faith in anyone or anything, it seemed. What was once holding him up and propelling him forward was now shattered around him like glass.

[demonslayedher]

Things that ran through my mind while watching this episode:

--Alternative title: "Kamado Tanjiro Soothes the Hearts of Aching Writers"

--Like, Kyogai's journey as a writer ends with Tanjiro choosing to respect his written word by not stepping on it, whereas Zenitsu's future as the author of "The Legend of Zenitsu" is just beginning as he's on the brink of meeting the heroine. I don't know whether this is poetic or an insult.

--In any case, Tanjiro has far more respect for Kyogai's writings.

--But!! That being said!!!! This episode showcases Zenitsu's narrative strengths, as he mentally recaps his own life stories and in this case, the merits he found in Tanjiro, whom he chooses to believe in. I've always loved Zenitsu's bittersweet reflections, they have such a lyrical quality to them. He is possessed of much talent, when he cares about something enough (which, to be fair, isn't always... or even most of the time).

--So! Back to the beginning of this episode, we get the recap of Tanjiro's self-empowering speech set to some of my favorite BGM of the first season. Granted, it's some of my favorite because I got so accustomed to hearing it on the first Mugen Ressha trailer than was playing everywhere, so I came to associate it Rengoku-san, and then I was surprised when I didn't hear it in the movie, hahaha~

--That said, I think a lot of this BGM got retired after the first season, but they took what worked and kept developing on it later, so KnY sounds more like KnY as the anime goes on.

--I LOVE THIS BATTLE SEQUENCE SO MUCH. It's just such a fun watch!! Look at all that believable movement!! Of course Tanjiro was impressed, we all were! You did great, Kyogai! You did great, Ufotable!

--All this, while we get such a good dive into both their heads, too. Tanjiro is very actively growing as a swordsman over the course of this battle, whereas Kyogai is stewing, as writers are so prone to.

--And Kyogai is so taken aback by everything Tanjiro verbalizes that he just finds himself going along and responding, again, I think this is because Kyogai was trying to write an epic about heroes, and Tanjiro says things that literary heroes would.

--The whole device of the paper falling everywhere not only looks dramatic in the context of a rotating room, but Tanjiro actively benefits from it in how it adjusts his thinking, and passively benefits from how emotionally affected Kyogai is by Tanjiro's innocuous action.

--Seriously, there are so many levels to why Pep Talk Boy .vs. Bop-It Demon was such a good battle.

--Tanjiro slayed Kyogai with those words of validation before the blade even reached his neck.

--What was Chachamaru doing this whole time? Was he sprawled against the wall with claws dug into the wood?

--Kiyoshi landed a hit on Tanjiro's forehead which actually hurt him! Whoa!! Maybe Kiyoshi was the one with demon slayer potential!! Teruko also did her best, she had to have been the one who ran around collecting all that ammo! Good job, children!!!

--But Shoichi and Zenitsu interactions remain my favorite.

--So, back to Zenitsu, I already expressed praise for his narrative inclinations, but the sunny sky background they gave Tanjiro like the one in his inner space?? Was Zenitsu hearing the sound of Tanjiro's inner space??? Is it the sound of sunshine????? AND THAT LINE BEING INCLUDED IN "THE SONG OF KAMADO TANJIRO" ALWAYS GETS ME, AAAAAAHHHHH

--Allow me to praise Zenitsu for his courage in the face of charging boar, too. Zenitsu!!! You are brave!! You are dependable!!!

--This was the point when, despite myself, I found myself really liking Zenitsu after all on that first watch. Inosuke, however, I found myself hating even more.

--This fight they have, though. It's so visceral and grounded, it's just two boys roughing it out without expending fantastical powers worthy of fighting demons. From, say, a stage combat perspective, there's a satisfying amount of dynamism to it which keeps them moving, and in every action they are both committed to a single goal. They respond how they hinder each other, and it builds realistically as a situation Zenitsu had gotten himself stuck in as a punching bag.

--And I'm so glad Tanjiro recognizes his efforts. He was already saying when they entered the mansion that he "can tell, Zenitsu is--" (really strong, but he didn't get to finish that statement), but here, he gets to see that when Zenitsu tries, he can be very dependable. If anything, Tanjiro's annoyances with Zenitsu stem from the fact that Tanjiro knows Zenitsu is capable. (Contrast this his treatment of Inosuke in the following episode, "that's ok, we all have our own strengths and limits, you can rest").

--That said, what a long and overly dramatic end to this episode. Ufotable may have run out of steam for how to fill to the final seconds after all that dedication on animating the Kyogai battle and the Zenitsu & Inosuke spat.

[moemoemammon]

(Two things, 1. This is my first time requesting so I'm sorry if this is not the thing to do it, and 2. Sorry if somethings is misspelled or grammatically incorrect, eng is not my first language:p)

May I request some of the bros, specially Mammon, Luci and Satan, with a MC who's similar to Lucifer in some aspects (like, some of their manners are the same as his and sometimes they're little bit too strict) and after a while they discover that its bc MC is also an older sibling. And (only if you want) meeting their younger sibling, please 🙏

Btw love your works ♡♡♡

Lucifer Number 2~

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

It doesn't occur to Lucifer how similar the two of you are, but the first thing he realizes is how pleasant conversations with you can be. You both share common interests, your tastes suit his own, and you seem to be the only competent person in this house.

You're the responsible type, and he likes it. He'll sometimes find you scolding his brothers for their behavior too, and as amusing of a sight as that may be, he doesn't want you to be burdened with their idiocy.

AND you're the eldest sibling in your household? Cheers to that. You too know the weight of being the responsible oldest, and the role one must take to ensure their siblings grow up well. You too know that you'd rather your siblings have things easier than you did.

But there's one thing he finds annoying... You can NEVER speak your feelings, and act as if it’d kill you to do so. He can respect secrecy when it's appropriate, but Lucifer would like to know what's on your mind. Not only that, but you can be HORRIBLY headstrong. There's nothing that can stray you away from what you've already decided.

"MC, I request that you take a few days off from school to do as you please. I've already spoken with Diavolo and your professors, and you've been given an excuse. I know you'll study anyway, so I've dropped off your assignments in your room. But... you should rest. It isn't good for you to be pushing yourself so hard. Hm? You're calling me a hypocrite?"

Mammon

As if one Lucifer wasn't enough. Now there's TWO of em?! Why's his luck gotta be so lousy!

Definitely the first to realize how much like Lucifer you are, and was SHOOK. Seriously, what gives?! What horrors exist in the human world that could've made you like THAT..?

Ever since you showed up, it's been impossible to get away with anything! He can't sneak out of the house because you're always there somehow, you tattle on him when you catch him leaving anyone's room, and you won't even let him copy your homework! What gives?!

Avoids you like the plague. You're no fun! There's only rare moments when you're kinda okay, and he likes those the best. The times when you're kinda sensitive and you'll drop the high and mighty act. But then you're back to being a pest!

"For the billionth time, I ain't got time to study! There's money to be made, and a guy like me ain't gonna waste a second lookin' at a dumb book when I could be- H-Huh?! You're gonna call Lucifer?! N-now, there's no need to be so hasty, right? Oi!! I'm sorry, damn it-!"

Levi

What's the deal with Lucifer number two? As comedic of a trope as that may be, Levi doesn't really care for having two nagging types in the house. Especially a human...

When you're in his room, all you do is nitpick about how he should tidy up and open a window! Don't you know that an otaku's room is his pride and joy?! It's a sacred space not to be trampled on by the opinions of a normie!!!

But still... he has to admit that even if you don't get all the stuff he's talking about, you at least try to understand it. And there are even some of his interests that you're genuinely invested in!

You might be a pain in the neck and harass him about annoying things, but he guesses he can deal with it if you'll actually sit through a TSL marathon with him...

"I-I'll lend you this manga, so make sure you read it! And when you're finished with that, I'll lend you the spin-off series by the author's brother! I know you'll like it, since you're interested in gritty stuff. Oh, and- Huh? My laundry? Y-yeah.... I'll do that.."

Satan

You are... surprisingly good company. Satan enjoys talking to you over afternoon tea, and the two of you share stories between one another.

But still, he can't shake the feeling that there's something... unpleasantly familiar about your personality. It isn't until you say something that sounds suspiciously similar to what Lucifer would say that he realizes who you remind him of. And oh, he hates it.

Tries playing pranks on you, but somehow they never go to plan. How that is is beyond him, but you never fall for anything! No matter how sweet his smile, you're always rightfully suspicious. You're annoyingly meticulous about checking your surroundings, and you're so aware of yourself that it's troublesome! Be more gullible!!

The king of petty has decided that its now his life goal to make you fall for at least one of his pranks. He doesn't care how elaborate he has to make it, or how unrewarding the payoff may be. He'll make you pay for seeing his brother in two places at once.

"MC, would you like to join me this afternoon for a book reading? Though, I'd love it if you could read this book in particular. I think you'll find it very-.... Hm? 'Isn't this the cursed book that makes you grow hair all over your body', you ask? Ahaha.... tch."

Asmo

Come now, there can't be TWO killjoys in the house! That's way too depressing!! It was funny at first to see that there's someone who can match the scary Lucifer's energy, but now it's becoming a nuisance!

You won't even go to the countless parties he's invited you to! Hell, you barely even give yourself room to mess around a little? Isn't it boring being so tightly wound? You're in luck, because the adorable Asmo-chan knows the PERFECT way to let loose~

You'll RARELY let him close to you, and that's usually when you're tired of him harassing you. Then he gets the honor of playing with your hair while you've got no energy to fight back! He'll style it wonderfully for you!

Also nags you to take better care of yourself. You're not a demon, so you have to care for your health! These late night study sessions are giving you bags under your eyes! And stop taking on so many extracurricular activities!

"Geez, MC! I didn't think you'd die from overworking, but that's the path you're headed on! You really are like Lucifer, you know? That being said, I'll do my best to make sure you relax! Shall we begin~?"

Beel

Beel may not be too bothered by Lucifer's strictness, but that doesn't mean he's immune to it. To think that even a human can be like that...

It's nice to see that you can take care of yourself, but aren't you working too hard? Your grades are good and you've got many interesting talents, but you also have to properly rest.

Has started bringing you snacks on the regular. And don't even think about skipping meals, because he won't allow it. He'll literally pick you up and bring you to the table if he has to. And if you're staying up late to study? He'll carry you to bed. Don't try to protest.

Beel is your babysitter now and there's nothing you can do about it. It's good to be responsible, but don't think about trying to take care of everyone else if you can't care for yourself. Now eat these twelve meat buns he bought for you.

"MC, let's eat lunch together. I know you were going to skip because I heard you talking to Solomon earlier, and I won't let you. Ah, don't worry about not having money, because I've already bought you some lunch. Let's eat in the courtyard."

Belphie

NO.... IT CAN'T BE... THIS HAS TO BE A NIGHTMARE....HE WANTS TO WAKE UP....

You're such a drag. You harass him to attend student council meetings, but him about his studies, and won't let him avoid a single obligation he has. What are you, his mother?

Has 100% joined forces with Satan to try to make you fall for many, many unsuccessful pranks. Are you curse proof or something? When he tried a '10 hour bed-head' spell on you, it just rebounded right to him! Then he found out that you'd borrowed a spell repelling amulet from Solomon and realized just how prepared you are...

When you aren't bothering his entire soul by trying to make him do things, you're actually nice to talk to. You're knowledgeable, you pay attention to the people around you, and you can always read a room. He likes to ask you for advice sometimes.

"Aren't you tired of being like that all the time? So... attentive, I mean. You should just take a nap some time. Or better yet, take the week off. Maybe I'll teach you how to properly relax? Then you might finally be able to take that stick out of your- ow... What're you hitting me for?"

[simpz-art-stash]

Late Beginnings [Ch. 2]

Summary: Macaque’s gotten over the biggest gap on his side of the burnt bridge between him and his broke af relationship with Wukong. Now he’s gotta take an even bigger leap in hopes of getting MK to give him a chance as well.

(Author’s note: DUNNO IF THERE’LL BE MORE BUT WE’LL SEE, FEEL FREE TO SUGGEST STUFF TO PUT IN HERE)

Previous | Next

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It should’ve been easy, a kid like MK had a good head on his shoulders, enough to see the good in all besides himself.

It should’ve been easy.

So then why the hell was he still standing on the sidelines mulling over what to say to the kid who was just a few yards away training under the careful eye of his mentor?

What could he say? The same to Wukong? He felt that might be a bit too cliche, even if it had worked.

‘Just barely.’

Mac sighed, brushing his hair back and watching the two practice stillness together, Wukong resting on his tail in a lotus position while MK stood on one foot, straining to keep his posture in check. Even with the staff being used as a counter-balance his muscles flexed against the lack of support in his other leg.

Maybe he could offer him something? Nothing major of course, something innocent but worthwhile and thoughtful. Demon head’s wouldn’t do, the kid had no real use for those, nor would he probably appreciate a trophy that wasn’t his. What did kids even like these days anyways? He thought of toys but, MK was practically a bigger kid than most other cub’s. Most kids like him usually just kept to popular places or their phones…

Decisions decisions…

A small yelp forced him out of his thoughts, his gaze shifting back over to MK who had since fallen back on his butt. Groaning and complaining like usual before Wukong gave him the ol’ ‘keep it up!’ attitude, prompting MK to simply nod and give it another try.

‘Geeze, and I thought my training was harsh. At least I gave him actual critique on his form…’

Then an idea flashed in his mind, popping off like a rocket and he suddenly found himself with something worthwhile.

------~------

“Alright bud, I think that’s enough of that. Why don’t you hit the bench, I need to go check on the kids back inside n’ make sure they haven’t left a mess after that marathon I set up for em.” Wukong claimed, patting MK on the back before turning away. Offering a curt wave as he left, “Call me if you need me!”

“Alright, I will!” MK sighed and made his way over to a makeshift seat, which happened to be nothing more than a split log. And proceeded to take his headband off if not to just drench his hair in some of the water from one of the bottle’s he’d brought along with him. Before guzzling the rest of it down like he hadn’t drank in forever.

“I see he’s been keepin’ you on your toes. Full pun intended.” Mac commented, earning him a startled squeak from MK who had just about spat his drink out when Mac rounded him from behind to sit himself down on the opposing side of the log.

MK had heard a little snippet from MKing about Macaque trying to make amends, he didn’t get the full details but he’d heard enough to know to keep an eye out for the guy. Not that he wasn’t already always on high alert for any suspicious activity.

“Guh- yeah.” MK coughed a little, rubbing his throat a little as he cleared it. “It hasn’t been uh, easy, but I think I’m gettin’ better. Just need to try harder or whatever…”

“Mmm…” Mac let his gaze concentrate on the immortal peach tree Wukong had planted out in the front of his yard, it having long since bloomed and been picked clean.

MK shifted a little under the uncomfortable silence that spread between the two, there wasn’t tension in it per sey, but it was still a lil awkward for him to just outright be chatting it up with the same guy who had once tried to kill him at one point.

“So uh..I was hoping to..make it up to you, what with everything that happened the last time…” Mac’s face squinted a little, his tail irritably swaying behind him, it seemed this was just as awkward for him as it was MK.

“Uhm..okay?..” MK veered a little away from the guy, not too sure how to handle that. “Hey if this is about the whole ‘you trying to kill me thing’ then uh, hey man we’re cool.”

“What? I mean yeah but, it’s more than just that..” Mac fiddled idly with the hem of his cloak, the things color long since having been worn down from the elements. “A lot more…”

“Complicated?” MK quirked a brow at him.

“Yeeaaahh…”

“Heh, been there. Done that.” MK nodded, not that it was anything to be proud of.

“He didn’t tell you?” Mac looked at MK finally with a concerned expression.

“About you and him?? I mean..yeah he told me a lil..mostly just warned me to keep an eye out for you but…” MK rubbed the back of his neck out of nervous habit, shifting under the demon’s gaze.

“Of course he didn’t…” Mac sighed with a frown, “Well, maybe that’s where I can help you out. I know Wukong, he doesn’t exactly give you the full picture so easily, then again he’s never really had a student before either so.”

“So?”

‘So, he won’t just outright give you the benefit of the doubt just like that, especially if you just say you’ll give him whatever advice he wants. He’ll think you’re just trying to pull him from Wukong again or worse.’

“What I mean to say is, if you want to correct your form with that whole balancing thing, you should try putting less focus into just your foot, and put it towards your whole body.” Macaque stated plainly, his gaze shifting away back to the peach tree.

“Oh..uhm..alright?...Thanks???” MK blinked, none too sure what to make of that, but he wasn’t trying to kill him, or hurt his feelings so, maybe that was a good thing??

“Feel free to mention it to him…” Macaque claimed, his gaze softening before he got up finally and began to walk elsewhere.

“h-Wait!” MK called out, standing up right then. To which Macaque of course obliged, though he kept his back facing kid.

“..are you..like...being serious about that whole, ‘making amends’ thing?..” MK squinted at him suspiciously, even if Macaque could lie about his true intentions, MK at least thought it right to ask. Considering everything else…

“Yes.” Mac stated, his tail curling a little behind him.

“Ohkaaay... “ It was still hard to tell but, “Then why’re you trying to?-”

“Because he told me to.” Mac claimed, his head turning just enough to share a glance with the kid. “Don’t get the wrong idea..it was wrong of me, but.”

“Buuut?”

-------~-------

“But whatever you do, you gotta stop lyin’ about the real stuff.”

Mac grunted, that was probably gonna be the hardest trial of his to overcome. For him, lying was basically his day by day means of survival. “I think I’d rather cut my own tongue out at that point an be mute then cut that out.”

The chick shrugged, “Hey, I’m just sayin’. Honesty is the best policy. Even if it hurts to hear it, better said than left for dead. You want em to trust you again? You gotta earn it. A few pretty words ain’t never gonna be enough. You gotta put some effort behind em.”

“Uuuugh.” He rolled his eyes, already regretting having decided to go through with the whole thing. “Fine...but if I get my ass beat because someone couldn’t take the heat, I’ll hunt you down.”

“I’ll take that chance.” The chick smirked.

-------~-------

Macaque sighed, he could already imagine just how easy it’d be to screw up something so casually done by others. Century old lies he’d held onto for most his life being the worst one’s, with how gnarled they were from the many times they’d been knotted by his reasons to keep them from being undone by any means necessary. He’d run from them for such a long time though, enough to the point where he’d finally hit the end of his lead, and now he was forced to look back at the mess he’d caused.

It wasn’t a pretty sight at all.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t go back and try to fix some of it. Now matter how long it took, little by little. He just had to be careful in doing so or else he’d just get himself wrapped up in knots all over again.

“...I..” Just say it, even if it’s half the truth.

“I didn’t want to see you waste that potential under a guy who wouldn’t appreciate it...” Macaque claimed, his gaze shifting away.

That...was probably the first time MK had ever seen Mac show a genuine side of himself before. Even during training he’d been distant and strict, similar to Wukong but a lot less merciful in a spar. Where with Mac, bruises were lessons learned.

“...Thanks. For the uh..advice I mean.”

Macaque stiffened a little at the response, but he didn’t spoil it for fear of ruining what little ground he had on that bridge.

“Anytime.”

And then he was gone.

[cah0mie]

To all my MCs that never really Enjoyed Celebrating their Birthday

Mammon: Alright! What does everyone have planned?

Asmo: I bought them multiple massagers so they can have a relaxing, stress-free day!

Satan: I bought them the new book series for them from their favorite author. I figured we could discuss the meaning throughout the story together.

Lucifer: I convinced Diavolo to give them the day off from any school activities so that they may rest, since they have worked hard it was an easy request. I also made a reservation at Ristorante Six.

Beel: I practiced how to make their favorite dish perfectly so they can have a delicious lunch!

Levi: I bought them the new most popular game they really wanted to try!!

Belphie: Uuhhhh guys? I don't know about this. I mean don't you remember what happened when we asked what they wanted?

Mammon: When they said they didn't want to celebrate? I've thought of that, and I have a plan!

Satan: This ought to be good.

Levi: Why exactly are we letting him run things anyway?

Mammon: Shut up and listen up! We don't have to celebrate anything! We can just try to help them unwind a little. Just friends trying to help their other friend, for no reason at all!

Satan: That sounds so suspicious, they would realize what we were up immediately!

Mammon: Do you have a better plan!?

Satan: ....... *Sighs* No....

Lucifer: Then I guess that's our best shot at doing this for them.

Belphie: I'm not entirely thrilled about following a plan made by Mammon, but I agree that it's the only idea we have.

Asmo: That's pretty sad..

Mammon: Shut up! All of you!

Lucifer: Moving on, I have already told MC that we have no school tomorrow. Hopefully they will sleep in and buy us some time.

-next morning 9:00-

MC: Shit....slept in a bit late didn't I?

-there's a knock on the door-

MC: Come in.

Asmo: Oh good you're awake!

MC: Just woke up. What's up?

Asmo: Oh, just got you a little something~ *carries in a tray with a cover on it*

MC: ..... Asmo..... What is this?

Asmo: I just thought you deserved *takes the cover off* Breakfast in bed.

MC: ...... *Stares at Asmo* What's the occasion?

Asmo: Can't I just do something nice because I fell like it.

MC: You're a demon.

Asmo: But YOUR demon, right?

MC: *shakes head, smiling* Thank you for the food, it looks great.

Asmo: Oh, but that's not all. *Retrieves a bag set by the door* Now, this mask will massage your eyes and play relaxing music.

MC: Asmo-

Asmo: This here will massage your neck and shoulders- which you could really use being hunched over a desk constantly.

MC: ASMO-

Asmo: And these are supposed to wrap around your legs and feet. They are massaged through air waves.

MC: ASMO!!

Asmo: What? I'm on the last one.

MC: Asmo, what IS all of this?? I don't need all of this, if anything you should use it.

Asmo: Now isn't that silly, of course you need it!

MC: As-

Asmo: Now, enjoy your food and relax as long as you wish! *Leaves*

MC: .....*sighs* .. So it's gonna be like that huh?

-few hours later-

Mammon: Yo MC! How about a game of Poker? I know you can't resist the game and the bets!

MC: It's more of the people and the conversations that I enjoy then the game itself. If we get more people on board sure.

Mammon: Uuummm, then how about some blackjack?

MC: Mammon, you know I'm not a gambler.

Mammon: Then how about....... Rummy?

MC: How about Speed?

Mammon: What?

MC: If you want to play a two person card game that bad, let's play speed.

Mammon: ...... What are the rules?

MC: Come here, I'll show ya.

-half an hour later-

Mammon: Wha-!? What the hell!? How are you so fast!?

MC: It's called 'been playing it for years'.

-lunch time-

Beel: Here you go MC. I made your favorite.

MC: Beel, this is much appreciated but why aren't you getting your food first? You must be hungry.

Beel: Nah, I'm ok. Besides, you deserve it.

MC: How so?

Beel: For being a good friend. 😊

MC: ...... *Sighs* ... I can't refuse you when you look at me like that and you know it. That's why you abuse it....

-afternoon-

Belphie: MC, it's time for our afternoon nap. Are you coming?

MC: I'm coming, I'm coming. *Goes to lay down beside him*

Belphie: Oh hold on! *Grabs a different pillow* Use this one instead.

MC: .... Isn't this one of those pillows that are supposed to keep you cool all through the night?

Belphie: Yep! You kept mentioning how hot you'd get while you're sleeping and how uncomfortable you'd be. I'd like my cuddle buddy to be comfortable while sleeping together.

MC: ....... There's NO other reason behind it?

Belphie: What other reason would there be?

MC: .... Fine. *Lays down with the pillow* Thanks.

Belphie: No problem.

-Evening-

Satan: MC, I'd like to talk about the theme in this book I've been reading. It's really confusing to me, I was hoping for different mindset to even it out?

MC: Sure, what book is it?

Satan: Come to my room, I'll show ya.

MC: Ok, *follows*

Satan: *lifts a book off his desk* This is it, apparently this story is holding the idea that committing crimes is alright depending on the situation.

MC: For example?

Satan: Committing murder is alright say, if someone kidnapped your kid.

MC: You think that's not alright?

Satan: I'm a demon, watching humans kill each other is pretty much sport to me. I just see it very unrealistic.

MC: .... Depends on the situation. Say your child was abducted and about to be sold off and become a victim of human trafficking. If this is proven then you should be pardoned for the most part, you will just have to live under new names and protection.

Satan: Wow, I didn't realize how complicated it all was.

MC: Yep, that's life. *Goes to leave*

Satan: Oh, before you go. *Grabs the series of books* Here, read these. I already have and I believe they're right up your alley.

MC: ...... Aren't these the new series of books, that just came out the day before? And you already read them?

Satan: *smirks* If you don't believe me, quiz me.

MC: ...... *Takes the books* .... Why do I not believe this is all coincidence?

Satan: *shrugs* Who knows?

MC: ..... *Leaves*

-Dinner-

Lucifer: MC, you're cooking?

MC: Yep. Everyone else cooks for dinner, I figured I could pick up the slack a little.

Lucifer: How much longer will the food take? We have a reservation in an hour.

MC: It shouldn't take too mu- wait, back up. What the fuck are you talking about!?

Lucifer: Is there something wrong?

MC: A few things yeah! One, I'd like more of a heads up! Two, why now!? What is this for!?

Lucifer: Consider this a reward for all your hard work.

MC: ...... Ok yeah no, this calls for a meeting.

-Everyone is gathered in the common room-

Asmo: What's wrong sweetie? You looked stressed

MC: I am stressed, all of you are stressing me out.

Mammon: Oi!! What did we do!

MC: Everything that has happened today was because my fucking birthday! Wasn't it!?

Satan: So what if it was? Why can't we celebrate it?

MC: I asked you not to.

Beel: MC, why do you hate your birthday so much? We only want to make you feel appreciated... 🥺

MC: Don't give me that damn look. I told you that it was a little too personal, and I rather not talk about it.

Belphie: Do you not trust us?

MC: I didn't say that, it's just...hard to talk about...

Mammon: Have you even tried?

MC: Have you tried not stealing shit? Difficult isn't it?

Levi: Woah! Burn!

Mammon: Shut up!

Lucifer: MC, we would probably understand your request better if you were to explain.

MC: ....... Let's just say... Something REALLY BAD happened on this day.... And everytime someone tried to celebrate with me....I remember it..... When I don't want to....

Levi: .... Woah.... Tragic backstory confirmed!

Asmo: Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry.

Satan: I'm not.

Mammon: Wha-! Satan!

Satan: What!? Come on! When they first show up they state us down like we're frogs in the dessert, and they don't want to be reminded of some shitty memory!! You're better than this! Whether you like it or not I'm celebrating your birthday every year! Because you deserve it!

Lucifer: Agreed. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. I believe with a little push you can love past that block on your mind.

Beel: I'll still make you delicious meals that we can enjoy together!

Belphie: You're keeping that pillow, whether you like it or not.

MC: ......... You all are assholes..... I hope you know that....

Mammon: Yeah well, you're a pain in the ass too. So we're even.

-later that night-

Levi: ....... I got that game you wanted....

MC: ....... You want to play together?

Levi: ...... Please?

MC: ...... I'll grab some snacks and drinks. You set up the game.

Levi: Yay!!

-----

That was much longer than I meant it to be, and alot more feelsy. Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed.

If you see anything that I could have done better, please don't hesitate to inform me. I accept all forms of constructive criticism.

[mako-neexu]

time travel guda twins au where gudako learns through an endless hell of pruning lostbelt after lostbelt that the only true way to keep pan human history from bleaching is to keep chaldea from losing romani and og!da vinci. chaldea's family is stronger together as a whole and can only defeat true evil through the power of love. set on finally ending things, she uses the mounting power she's accrued from all the fake timelines she's gotten rid of to reach back through PHH and try to subtly help her brother restore its true integrity. as a bonus we'd also gain goetia and mnemosyne as aids against future threats. rip sherlock holmes tho. between those two and moriarty he'd never get to do anything cool and shady again

SHAKES YOU ANON SHAKES YOU THATS SO GOOD OMG i hope you dont mind me writing a little about your idea!! Gah its so good! IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE THIS BUT HERE ITRIED MY HAND ON IT A LITTLE (i still have no idea how laplace, sheba, and trismegistus works but i put them here anyway so *shrugs*)

Da Vinci couldn’t help but worry. It was… extremely unusual. The readings at that time when they had fought the Lion King was absurd. Fujimaru, Mash and Bedivere fighting a god alone was a feat, nevermind the fact that Airgetlam was Excalibur in disguise. But...

During the fight however, the Lion King’s Authority and immense amount of magical energy decreased somehow in the middle of the fight.

It was practically a huge fraction that had decreased. Up until now, she couldn’t believe it.

There had to be a third party who was helping them. “Help” was too mild of a word, more like they were… hurrying things along from the shadows.

At least, that was what her intuition was saying.

After all, this wasn’t the first time that happened. Thinking about it now, ever since the First Singularity, she couldn’t help but feel as if… something or someone had been watching over their backs.

She wasn’t sure if that presence intended to do good or harm. And that was only one of the scary parts of her realization.

It couldn’t be that Solomon nor the Demon God Pillars. Countless times have already been proven that there had only been one Pillar each Singularity. Each very much the opposite of helping Chaldea. Camelot’s Demon Pillar summon was a unique case, however.

But after reviewing all the records of the events for the past few months as well as interviewing Mash and Fujimaru-kun thoroughly, she found only what were equal to crumbs as the evidence suggesting as proof to her suspicions.

Still, to think that even a God’s Authority can be negated easily just like that…

It would have required close contact to even weaken a Divine Spirit. Yet the third party who’s been helping them practically speed up Grand Order was able to do so without revealing themselves...

“This is… bad.” The genius sighed as she rubbed her eyes under her glasses. At that moment, Romani entered her workshop holding two mugs of freshly brewed coffee.

Romani glanced at the tablet she was holding, heaving his own frustrated sigh. “Still no luck?”

“Not even LAPLACE, TRISMEGISTUS, and SHEBA are of much help here. The only solid evidence I could get my hands on are the events that happened whenever Fujimaru and Mash were in a tight spot. Particularly, every time a Demon Pillar appeared as well as the case with the Lion King.” That statement alone had Romani silent.

The two of them had already perused through the data they were able to gather, questioning a few Servants for any suspicious activities while accompanying Fujimaru-kun in the process.

The silence between them stretched, and the one who broke it was the doctor. “...I don’t know what forces are at play but we have to be on guard in case we encounter that third-party.”

What with the countless possibilities to identify this third-party as, it was a task where they needed to be prepared at all costs.

For all they knew it could be another Threat to Humanity as well. The Solomon they were facing against is already a handful not even mentioning the threat level their third party holds.

[comedicreliefonlyworkswhenfunny]

I am against the "Americanization" of fandoms.

What this applies to

Holding non American characters (and sometimes even fans) to an American moral standard. This includes

Refusing to take into account that, first things first, America is NOT the target audience, so certain tropes that would or would not pass in the west are different in Japan.

Like seriously, quite a few of the jokes are just not going to pass or hit, because they require background information that is not universal.

Assuming all American experience is standard. (This could mean watering down just how much pressure is placed on Japanese youth irl by saying that sort of thing is universal (while it is, to a degree, Japanese suicide rates are pretty fucking high because of how fast paced and work heavy some of their loads tend to be), and it's really annoying and rude when someone is trying to speak out about how heavy and harsh the standards are placed on them to succeed just for some American whose mom occasionally yells at them to do their homework dropping by to say "it's like that everywhere")

Demonizing (or wubbifying) a character using American morals, including and up to harassing fans over their interpretations or gatekeeping whether or not a character "should" get development (while you shouldn't do that fucking period, it's rude and annoying- this is specifically for the people who use American standards without acknowledging the cultural gap between them and, you know, the fucking target audience) ((Like seriously, saying "It's different in Japan" is not the end all be all excusing someone's actions, but sometimes the author didn't immediately think that maybe (insert vaguely universal thing) was that bad or that heavy of a topic before they put it into their media. If you don't want to see things like that? Pick a different series and stop harassing the fans))

Getting mad at or making fun of Japan's attempts to satirize their own culture. (A good example is Ace Attorney! To most of us, it's just a funny laugh can you imagine if courts were actually like that- guess what? Japan's are! (Not that America's are actually that much better, they just look good on paper))

Making America/American issues the center of your fan spaces

(Usually without sharing or bringing light to the issues that other countries are going through)

Your

Experiences

Are

Not

Univseral!

Seriously, very few things across America, even, are universal. Texas things the hundreds are nothing while Minnesota's like "oh it's only thirty degrees below zero"- so for fucks sake, stop assuming that all other countries work in ways similar to America.

It's good and important to share Ameican issues with your American followers, but guess what? America isn't the only country out there, and it's certainly not the only one going through bullshit. Don't pull shit like "why's no one reblogging this?" or "why should I care about what's happening in (X country)?"

Don't assume everyone lives in America.

Stop assuming everyone lives in America.

America is not and has never been the target audience for anime, and it's certainly not the only country outside of Japan that enjoys it.

Like I said above, sometimes Japan attempts to satirize its own culture. We can't tell what is and isn't meant as satire, because it's not our culture.

Social media activism can be tiring and maybe you don't have the energy to focus on things that are out of your control, but, if someone tells you about the shit they're going through, don't bring American politics up.

For the neurodivergent crowd out there thinking, "But why?" it's because a lot of social media, especially, is very heavily Americanized- sometimes to the point where people assume that everyone is American. Not to mention, it's disheartening. I'm sorry to say, but you're not actually relating to the conversation, you're often diverting the focus away from the topic at hand. Even if you mean well, America is heavily pedestaled and talked about frequently, and people from other countries are tired of America taking precedent over their own issues.

Don't divert non-American issues into American ones. Seriously. It's not your place. Please just support the original issue or move on.

Racist Bullshit

This especially goes for islanders and South Asian characters, as well as poc characters (because, yes, Japan DOES have black people)

Making "funny" racist headcanons. Not fucking cool.

Changing the canon interpretation of an explicit character of color in order to fit racist stereotypes.

Whitewashing or color draining characters. Different artistic skill sets can be hard, yes, but are you seriously going to look at someone and say "I don't feel like accurately portraying you or people that look like you, because it's difficult for me." If someone tries to correct you on your cultural depiction of a character and/or their life style, don't be an ass. (If possible, it would be nice for those that do the corrections to be polite as well, but it does get really frustrating).

Seriously, no offense guys, but, if you want to persue art, you're going to need to learn to depict different body types, skin colors, and/or ethnic features.

On that note, purposefully, willingly, or consistently inaccurately portraying people or characters of color (especially if someone in the fandom has "called you out" or specifically told you that what you're doing comes across as racist and you continue to do it). If you need help or suck at looking things up, there are references for you! Ask your followers if they have tutorials on poc (issue that you're having), whether it be bodily portrayal, facial proportions, or coloring and shading. Art is so much more fun when you can depict a wider variety, and guess what? Before you drew the same skinny, basic, white character over and over, you couldn't even draw that!

Attempting or claiming to DEPECT CULTURAL ACCURACY within a work or meta, while being completely fucking wrong. ESPECIALLY and specifically if someone calls you out, and you refuse to fix, correct, or change anything.

*little side note that the discussion revolving art is a very multilayered conversation, and it has quite a few technical potholes, which I'll bring up again farther into this post.

Fucking history

Stop demonizing or for absolute fucks sake wubbifying Japanese history because UwU Japan ♡0♡ or bringing up shit like "you know they sided with Nazis, right?" It's good to recognize poor past decisions, but literally it's not your country keep your nose out of it. And? A lot of decisions made by countries were not made by their general peoples. Even those that were, often involved heavy propaganda that made them think what they were doing was right.

Seriously, it's not your country, not your history. Unless you have some sort of higher education (but honestly even then a lot of those contain heavy bias), just don't butt in.

^^^ this also goes to all countries that are NOT Japan (specifically when people from non American countries talk about their history while in fandoms and someone wants to Amerisplain to them why "well, actually-"). When we said, "question your sources," we didn't mean "question the people who know better than you, while blindly accepting the (more than likely biased) education you were given in the past."

What this does NOT include:

Fanfiction

FANfiction

FanFICTION

FANFICTION.

Seriously, fanfiction is literally UNPAID WORK from RANDOM FANS- a lot of which who are or have started as kids. ((No, I'm not trying to excuse racist depictions of people just because they're free, please see above where I talk about learning to grow a skill and how it's possible tone bad and get good, on top of the fact that some inaccuracies are not just willful ignorance))

"Looking it up" doesn't work

"Looking it up" almost never works

Please, for fucks sake, you know that most all online search engines are heavily biased, right? Not to mention, not everything is universal across the entirety of Japan. You want to look up how the school system works in Hokkaido? Well it's different from the ones in Osaka!

Most fanfiction is meant to be an idealized version of the world. Homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, ableism, and racism are very prevalent and heavy topics that some fan authors would prefer to avoid. (Keep in mind, this is also used by some people in those minorities often because thinking about how relevant those kinds of things are is to them every day).

A lot of shit that happens in writing is purely because it's an ideal setting. I've seen a few arguments recently about how fan authors portray Japanese schools wrong- listen, I can't tell you how many random school systems I have pulled from my ass purely because (I need them to interact at these points, in these ways). Sometimes the only compliment I can think of is 'I like your shirt' or sometimes I need character A to realize that character B likes the same thing as they do, so I might ignore the fact that most all Japanese schools require uniforms, so that I can put my character in a shirt that will get someone else's attention.

Sometimes it's difficult to find information on different types of systems, and sometimes when you DO know those things, they directly rule out a plot point that needs to happen (like back on the topic of schools (from what I've seen/heard/read- which guess what? Despite being from multiple sources, might still be inaccurate!) Japanese schools don't have mandatory elective classes (outside of like gym and most of them usually learn English or another language- I've seen stuff about art classes? But the information across the board varies.), but, if I need my character to walk in and see someone completely in their element, I'm probably not going to try and gun for accuracy or make up a million and two reasons as to why this (non elective) person would possibly need something from (elective teacher) after school of all things.)

Some experiences ARE universal- or at least overlap American and Japanese norms! Like friends going to fast food places after school doesn't /sound Japanese/ or whatever, but it's not like a horrible inaccuracy to say that your characters ate at McDonald's because they were hungry. Especially when you consider that the Japanese idolization of American "culture" is also a thing.

Also I saw someone complaining about how, in December, a lot of (usually westerners) write Christmas fics! Well, not only are quite a few of those often gift fics, with it being the season if giving and all, but Japanese people do celebrate Christmas! Not as "the birth of Christ," but rather as a popularized holiday about gift giving (also pst: America isn't the only place that celebrates Christmas)

But, on that note, sometimes things like Holidays are "willfully ignorant" of what actually happens (I've made this point several times, but (also this does by no means excuse actual racism)), because, again: plot convenience! Hey what IF they celebrated Halloween by Trick or Treating? What if Easter was a thing and they got to watch their kids or younger siblings crawl around on the ground looking for tiny plastic eggs?

Fanfiction authors can put in hours of work for one or two thousand words- let alone ten thousand words, fifty thousand words, a hundred thousand words. And all of these are free. There is absolutely no (legal) way to make money off of their fanworks, but they spent hours, days, weeks, months- sometimes even years- writing. It is so unnecessary to EXPECT or REQUIRE them to spend even more hours looking up shit that, no offense, almost no one is going to notice. No one is going go care that all of my combini prices are accurate or that I wrote a fic with a Japanese map of a train station that I had to backwards search three times to find an English version that I could read.

Not everyone has the attention span or ability to spend hours of research before writing a single word. Neurodivergent people are literally a thing yall. Instead of producing the perfectly pretty accurate version of Japan that people want to happen, what ACTUALLY happens is that the writer reads and reads and reads and either never finds the information they need or they lose the motivation to write.

^^^ (This does NOT apply to indigenous or native peoples, like Pacific Islanders or tribes that exist in real life. Please make sure that you portray tribal minorities accurately. If you can't find the information you need (assuming that the content of the series is not specifically about a tribe), please just make one up (and for fucks sake, recognize that a lot of what you've been taught about tribal practices, such as shit like human sacrifices or godly worship, is actually just propaganda.)

Not to mention, it often puts a wall in front of readers who would then need to pull up their OWN information (that may or may not be biased) just in order to interact with the fic ((okay, this one has a little bit of arguability when it comes to things like measurements and currency, because Americans don't know what a meter is and no one else knows what a foot is- either way, one of yall is going to have to look up measurements if they want to get a better understanding of the fic)). However, a lot of Americans who do write using 'feet, Fahrenheit, dollars,' also write for their American followers or friends (which really could go both ways).

On a less easily arguable side, most fic readers aren't going to open up a new tab just to search everything that the author has written (re the whole deep topics, not everyone wants to read about those sorts of things, either). Not only are you making it more difficult on the writer, but you're also making it more difficult for the reader who's now wondering why you decided to add in Grandma's Katsudon recipe, and whether or not the details you have added are accurate.

Some series, themselves, ignore Japanese norms! Piercings, hair dye, and incorrectly wearing ones uniform are frowns upon in Japanese schools- sometimes up to inflicting punishment on those students because of it. However, some anime characters still have naturally or dyed blond hair some of them still have piercings or wear their uniforms wrong. Some series aren't set specifically in Japan, but rather in a vague based-off-real-life Japan that's just slightly different (like Haikyuu and all of its different prefectures). Sometimes they're based on real places, but real places that have gone through major changes (like the Hero Academia series with its quirks and shit).

Fandom is not a full time job. Please stop treating it like it is one. Most people in fandoms have to engage in other things like school or work that most definitely take precident over frantically Googling the cultural implications of dying your hair pink in Japan.

Art is also meant to be a creative freedom and is almost always a hobby, so there are a few cracks that tend to spark debate. Like I said, it is still a hobby, something that's meant to be fun (on this note!)

If trying new things and expanding your portfolio is genuinely making you upset, it's okay to take a break from it. You're not going to get it right on the first try and please, please to everyone out there critiquing artists' works, please take this into account before you post things.

I'm sorry to say, but, while it gets frustrating to see the same things done wrong over and over again, some people are genuinely trying. If it matters enough for you to point out, please offer solutions or resources that would possibly help the artist do better (honestly this could be said about a lot of online activism). I get that they should "want" to do better (and maybe they don't and your annoyance towards them is completely justified- again, as I said, if this becomes a repeated offense and they don't listen to or care about the people trying to help them, yeah you can be a bitch if it helps you feel better- just please don't assume that everyone is willfully ignorant of how hurtful/upsetting/annoying a certain way of portraying things is), but also WANTING to do better and ACTUALLY doing better are two different things.

Maybe they didn't realize what they were doing was inaccurate. Maybe they didn't have the right tutorials. Maybe they tried to look it up, but that failed them. Either way, to some- especially neurodivergent artists- just being told that their work is bad or racist or awful isn't going to make them want to search for better resources in order to be more accurate, it's just going to make them give up.

Also! In fic and in writing, no one is going to get it right on the first try. Especially at the stage where we creators ARE merely in fan spaces is a great time to "fuck around and find out", before we bring our willfully or accidentally racist shit into monetized media. Absolutely hold your fan creators to higher standards, but literally fan work has so little actual impact on popular media (and this goes for just about every debate about fan spaces), and constructive criticism as well as routine practice can mean worlds for representation in future media. NOT allowing for mistakes in micro spaces like fandoms is how you get genuinely harmful or just... bad... portrayals of minorities in popularized media that DOES have an impact on the greater public. OR you get a bunch of creators who are too afraid to walk out of their own little bubbles, because what if they get it wrong and everyone turns against them. It's better to just "stick with what they know" (hobbies are something that you are meant to get better at, even if that is a slow road- for all of my writers and artists out there, it does take time, but you will get it. To everyone else, please do speak up about things that are wrong, but don't make it all about what's wrong and please don't be rude. It's frustrating on both ends, so, if you can, please try not to escalate the situation more.)

Anyways, I'm tired of everyone holding fictional characters to American Puritanical standards, but I'm also tired of seeing every "stop Americanizing fandom" somehow loop into fanfiction and how all authors who don't make their fics as accurate as possible are actually just racist and perpetuating or enabling America's take over of the world or some shit.

Fan interpretation of published media is different than fan creation of mon monetized media. Americans dominating or monopolizing spaces meant for all fans (especially in a fandom that was never meant for them to begin with) is annoying and can be harmful sometimes. Americans writing out their own personal experience using random fictional characters (more often than not) isn't.

[lightsaberupmybutt]

A Friendly Massage (2) - Luke Skywalker x FemReader

part one is here!

This imagine is over 5000, this imagine is over 5000 words, this imagine is over 5000 words. i don't know why this is so long, i just wanted to write a quick little part two and its 5000 words of tension and smut and I'm not even sorry, you did this to yourselves.

warnings: SMUT was a tiny slice of oral (male receiving ) on the side, enjoy.

Day to day life carried on as it always had after your run in with Luke the other night, however you knew something had shifted.

 And he certainly felt it too. Your usual good mornings and friendly waves in passing were met with stuttered, awkward greetings and a gaping lack of eye contact. It was obvious that something had to be said to resolve the growing tension between the two of you, but you'd be damed if you were the one to address the elephant in the room. Besides, it was HIS rather large, excitable elephant that had causes the issue in the first place. 

So you waited, biding your time and convincing yourself that on some level this refusal to acknowledge your lust was actually just subliminal jedi training. patience is important right? that seemed to be something Yoda would approve of? abstinence? Although he probably wouldn't be proud of your solo late night escapades that were fuelled by fantasies of what the Blonde Jedi would have done to you if he had just had a smidge more confidence; how he would have looked underneath you while you rode him, unraveling with your every bounce, lips parted whispering your name repeatedly like its the only word he had ever been taught. You wondered if he even liked being ridden, or was he the more dominant of the two of you ? you doubted it, as much as he showed great strength and leadership in the training hall, Skywalker didn't give off the sexual prowess of someone who was largely well experienced, it made sense that he wouldn't be left with much time for bedding girls around you know, saving the whole entire planet from his own fathers borderline demonic regime. 

Truly, though, you had never felt like he wouldn't know what he was doing. Especially after that massage he had given you, even if it was a tad brief. Like knew how to use his hands, even if one of them was mechanical. You found yourself wondering if he used them differently, if he happened to have more dexterity in one set of fingers than the other, how that would feel if those fingers where being put to use inside of your tight - 

“Y/N? have you been listening to a word I've just said” 

Youre whipped out of your thoughts by an all too familiar voice as you vainly attempt to stop your cheeks from turning pink in front of your fellow Padwan’s. You stumble to find you words while simultaneously praying Luke hasn't decided to use his weird mind reading ability in the last 10 minutes of your brain wander or so.

“Sorry sir” is all you can offer, as you truly have not the faintest of ideas of what he was just talking about. You don't miss the way luke stiffens when you use the term of authority toward him, a trick you normally would not exploit however unluckily for him, he caught you completely of guard. He lets out an exaggerated sigh before he returns to pacing,

“You can all return to your activities” He dismisses you all, and you scurry to the door with the others before he adds, 

“not you, Y\N”

ah shit. 

He waits until everyone has exited and the door has shut behind then before he turns to you,

“Whats up with you lately?” his teaching voice is gone, he's back to exasperated friend luke, 

You chortle on a gasp of air as you shoot him an accusatory look, taking a few steps closer to him with your finger outstretched like a weapon, 

“whats up with ‘me’?” you mock, showing your finger towards yourself, before dramatically turning it back on him, moving even closer. 

“What the fuck is up with you Luke? your the one who's being weird with me, don't pull some uno reverse card on the last few days”

You can see the lost puppy dog look in his eyes, as he tries to scramble together some sort of reply, 

“and don't fucking lie to me” you add, closing the space between you so that you're now jabbing him in the chest with your pointer finger. 

“i er, .. i don't know what you're talking about Y/N” god, even the way he says your name is hot, you feel feat rising again in areas it shouldn't but you push it away, your pride not wanting him to get the best of you even if your body would quite happily will it.

“Liar” you spit at him with such venom it surprises even yourself, accompanied with another jab to the chest, this one maybe a little harder than the ones before. 

“ouch” he mumbles, trapping the accusing finger in one palm and rubbing his chest with the other, the dramatics causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Hey, don't do that!” he fires back, you can tell he's trying to sound stern but its not really all to effect when he's still rubbing out the pain from your finger jab.

“do what?” 

“roll your eyes at me! I'm your senior” he puffs his chest, but his eyes still are full of surprise at your sudden outburst.

 “really? are you now luke?” you push him, his hand still wrapped around yours, sending sparks through you arm.

“yes, i am” His voice is breathy, his breath splaying down onto your face as he speaks. You suddenly realise just how close you have managed to get to him, previously too lost in the moment. Your body is all but pressed against his, head tilted down ever so slightly so that he can be on the same eye level as you. There isn't much difference in your height, but right now he feels like he's towering over you. 

Its rare that you see this side of Luke, normally so soft and docile towards you. The tension of this argument and sheer stress that has been building inside of him since your incident is starting to bubble over the surface as he's trapped so close to you now. You can tell he's surveying you, begging you to make the next move though fear he will say something he might regret. 

But maybe that is what you want from him, after all the last happy accident between the two of you has been the image you have gotten off to for the last four nights. 

“prove it then” 

“prove what?” Luke looks confused, suddenly drawing back a little like he'd completely lost the trail of your conversation, head tilted to the side like a bewildered golden retriever, 

“prove that you're my senior” you whisper back, almost not wanting him to hear it. You can tell by the way his light sapphire eyes gaze over he does though, as he watches you pull away and leave the training room, door slamming behind you.

 You slip past two bodies as you rush back to your dorm, your confidence leaking and the implications of what you just challenged beginning to set in. Hans and Leia both follow their gaze after you, the two having witnessed the end portion of yours and Lukes confirmation through the viewing window while waiting for the princess’s twin to finish for lunch. Leia turned to Hans, eyes narrowed,

“you don't think they might actually….” she trails off,

 “bang? oh definitely” Hans answers, still looking at the shaken remnants of Luke Skywalker, who liked like he may have lost all brain function capacity. 

It had been ten hours and forty five minutes since you'd left look in your dust in the training room, not that anyone was counting. And you had concluded two facts while on your bed in that time; 

Luke clearly didn't feel the same way you felt for him; you had left him with basically an invitation to come and take you and he was a no show.

to avoid facing the death by embarrassment you would inevitably suffer you will be spending the remainder of your sorry life inside the confines of this very dorm. it seemed the adult thing to do. 

You muffled a yawn, the sun had long past retired, and from your place on your bed you could just make out the two moons and multiple consolations now decorating the dark blue night.  

Lifting your arms above you head in a stretch, you caught a whiff of sweat and instantly sighed; as much as you had been willing to enjoy never moving from you bed until either starvation or dehydration took you out of your misery, you did happen to stink like garbage. 

You scuffled off the bed and out of your cloak and training pants, that had been left on from hours ago, making a mental note that at least you'd wouldn't have to worry about washing them if you never saw look again. You shimmied out of you knickers and unhooked your bra, throwing them onto the floor to join the rest of your discarded outfit before wandering over to your bathroom and turning on the shower, untangling your hair the best you can while the water warms. 

When you finally stepped under the water you let out a hiss at the feeling of the heat against your skin, basking in the feeling of droplets on your now bare body. You let your hand roam, starting at your chest and finding a path down past your belly button and hips, your skin trembling as your hand drifted over the area between your thighs. 

You let out another hiss, your fingers finding their way between your folds, teasing yourself. You enjoyed the tension loss for all but a moment before flashes of luke pressed against you in the training room earlier flew back into your brain; how hot his skin had been against yours and how his scent had been so strong in his sweat after the hours of sparring multiple Padawan’s. You moaned, half in frustration with yourself for ruining your moment and the other half in want. 

He's even spoiling your shower time now, what a dick. 

You snatched your soap bar from the shelf and scrubbed viciously, not allowing  yourself the enjoyment of a relaxing shower due to your own self betrayal. You ran some through your locks, cursing whichever part of your brain was telling the rest that this would feel a million times better if it was the Jedis hands in place of your own.

Once you had finished mentally punishing yourself, you turned off the water and stood there for a minute contemplating the likelyhood of a bang to the head removing your memory of todays events. 

After all, it would be so simple, a little slip in the shower and poof! Sure, Luke would remember it all, but would he really have the guts to say anything to you about it? surely he wouldn't want to risk your recovery from a very accidental definitely not self inflicted head injury now would he? However, if your preexisting luck was anything to go off, you'd probably forget everything but the sexual tension you had for your master.

Cowardly, you stepped out safely, making sure not to fall, and wrap yourself in a soft towel, leaving your hair to drip down onto your shoulders. You step out of your bathroom, not noticing the shadow that had formed in the corner of your room until they cleared their throat, causing you to just back in sheer terror, going over on your ankle and nearly dropping your towel all together. 

 “Sorry i er..”

“Luke? what the Fuck are you doing” You gasp out, staring blindly into the darkness as the shape shuffles on their feet awkwardly, 

Luke moves closer, the small amount of light left from outside casting across his soft face and mop of hair.

“I didn't mean to scare you” is all he can offer, 

“And what part of you hiding in my room while i showered would not come across as scary?” You shot back, more dazed than angry. You knew what him being here meant, but him hiding in the most light depraved corner of your room while you tried not to masturbate to images in your head of him in your shower was never part of the fantasy.

“i didn't realise you'd be showering this late” He replied, as if that answered the question as to why he was hiding in your room so late at night at all. 

You strained your eyes trying to peer at him, and he seemed to notice, taking another few steps forward into the moonlight. Maker did he look good, under the stars his skin glowed and his hair caught copper and silver highlights that made your knees weak. His soft features were taunt and there was mischief in his eyes, a familiar sight but in the situation at present it made heat grow in your lower stomach. 

Something told you he could see it in your face too, whatever he was looking for, because he kept on moving in on you, like a predator after their pray, You weren't used to seeing Luke all wound up like this, the only other time being the last time he was in your room, but the situation was different this time. There was an open air of lust and anticipation flowing around the two of you, you could only compare it to what the force had felt like the few times you'd managed to master it. It was like something spiritual was drawing you two closer, your body was working on autopilot, moving without your conscious command. He had closed the gap between you by now, but he didn't make a move to touch you or even say any more than he already had, simply staring down at you. When you realised he really wasn't going to be the one to break the silence, you stepped up to the mark for him,

“Why are you here Luke” It wasn't really a question, you knew what you had said to him earlier, the words that you had been replaying over and over in your head ever since. 

“Because..” He trailed off, as if he was trying to find the right way of wording his thoughts, you took this as a chance to push him a little further, no matter how nervous you both were right now, you knew him well enough over the last year to learn how to fire him up, and right now a pent up Luke was exactly what you wanted. You knew you were playing with fire, but you doubted if he did react, it would be in a way you wouldn't enjoy. Quite frankly, the boy could pick you up and throw you out of your own bedroom window right now and you'd still probably be horny enough to find some form of sexual gratification from the experience  

You saw his brow raise and his eyes flash before you heard his word, 

“To show you what i want from you, Padawan” He smirked around the term, causing you to let out a small, nervous laugh. 

“And what is it that you want from me, Master?” You hardly finish the word before his arms have snaked around your back and you're being lifted from the ground, letting out a squeal of surprise, your legs wrapping around his waist for support. He plopped you down on the bed, still situated between your legs, pulling a hand out on either side of your shoulders so that he could stare down at you. 

“Thats not an answer luke” you quipped back, quite impressed at your ability to still functionally produce coherent words. He leaned down, his lips on your ear, 

“oh, i think it is, Y/N” he breathed, letting out a boyish laugh before he could stop himself, almost giving you the chance to shoot another sarcastic comment his way, but as his lips touch the skin below your ear and start to plant wet hungry kisses there, the words dissolve into a soft moan. 

His head shoots up and you see the look of concern in his eyes, confirming that maybe Luke isn't the most sexually experienced person on this planet. The sweetness in his reaction makes you weak, but you have lost the ability to reply with words, so you communicate through grabbing either side of his soft face and planting a hungry kiss on his lips. 

For a moment you catch him off guard, frozen under you lips, and you worry that maybe you have somehow misread this situation entirely. Maybe he was just fooling around with you, maybe he wants serious?

But all that concern is dissipated by his lips finding rhythm against yours, equally as passionately. Okay, so maybe he isn't the best at reading you tell tale lust signs, but oh maker can he kiss. The movement of his lips alone is enough to cause severer wetness to pool between your thighs, your spin raising off the bed as far as it can to push your body against his clothed one. You're amazed your towel has lasted this long, especially after the near miss before, but now you find yourself wishing it hadn’t. Conscious of Luke being as respectful as it is, you also know that if you wait for him to remove it you may have melted away before he sees you; so you move a hand from his face to the tie at the top of your chest and pull it open, the towel cascading around you and leaving your front bare.

You had a feeling that Luke was a little too caught up in the moment to realise, so you gently slid you hand around one of his, waiting until he shifted his weight onto his other arm before you lowered it to you chest, letting it cup your breast. Lukes eyes shot open as he let out a gasp, lips opening just enough for you to tease your tongue against his bottom lip. His hand moved instinctively to squeeze, his thumb brushing gently over your already erect nipple. You shivered and moaned in response, but this time Luke knew this meant he was doing something right, so he repeated his actions.

 You had to give it to him, he was a fast learner.

 Your hand moved in an attempt to untie his cloak, but the action was proving difficult while Lukes mouth was on yours and his hand roaming your body, causing you to become inpatient.

“Take it off” You managed to get out between kisses, 

You expected him to challenge your direct order, but he merely sat up and untied the cloak, slipping it from himself and removing his undershirt too. You watched as the moonlight danced upon his skin, his toned chest, years of Jedi training had certainly served his body well. This wasn't the first time you'd seen Luke topless, but it was the first time you hadn't had to hide the fact that you were really looking. Realising how long you had been staring you met his eyes again,  half expected to see him smirking down at you, but he was just as lost in your body as you were his;

“You - You're Beautiful” He stumbled under his breath, you weren't sure if you were even supposed to hear it, but it made your cheeks burn either way. Before he could say anything else, you lifted your back up from the bed and pushed your body flush against his, planting kisses on his neck, eliciting a moan from the Jedi in response. You left little purple marks peppered in the wake of you lips, something you knew he may not be too pleased about in the morning, but you figured you might as well get away with as much claiming of him you could in the heat of the moment. He quivered underneath you, from this angle you could feel his ever-growing, now comically familiar, budge, his body naturally thrusting into yours, causing a beautiful friction against your heat. Luke was lost in the pleasure, and has seemingly temporarily forgotten he had hands, so you grabbed ahold of on and pushed it down to the bottom of your stomach, lifting your core from his so he could access it. Luke met your eyes again, this time you could tell him was clueless, his cheeks glowing a deep scarlet.

“I erm” You didn't let him finish, you'd figured Luke was a little inexperienced but not to this level. The massive reverse in roles made you feel a little powerful; suddenly you were the experienced one and he was your understudy. Maybe he should be calling you master? You made a mental note to remember that fact for tomorrow when the joke might go down better than in the middle of sex, 

“Just rub around here” you told him, while guiding his hand to your bundle of nerves, making sure to show him the correct pressure you wanted, and then your lips were back on his. 

Luke was slow at first, and it took him a while to actually bring his fingertips between your folds, however once he did he seemed to find the exact spot you wanted him in. Whether it the pressure of his cool finger tips or the fact that he had been unintentionally teasing the area so long, you released a borderline animalistic high pitched moan, lurching forward and wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt him chuckle against your neck, repeating his action and causing you to squeal again, 

“well then” He murmured into your ear, a cheeky air to his voice, causing you to groan knowingly - you'd certainly be mocked for that vicious reaction afterwards. 

You wanted to smack the smirk from his lips, but instead you lowered one of you hands between your bodies, resting it on Lukes now fully erect but concealed member. He paused momentarily, before letting out his own moan as you started to palm him through his loose trousers. There was dampness under your hand, a mix of your slick heat and his own leaking member, but it only spurred you on more. 

Lukes actions had become increasingly sloppy, his hand slipping lower and lower until one of his digits unintentionally bumped against your opening, causing you to jump in his arm and whine against his ear. Luke took this as a sign to dip the tip of the finger into you, testing to make sure this wasn't the wrong move, when you hum in response he slips the rest in up to his knuckle. The action makes you tremble, and you're panting and whispering jibberish into his ear. He removes the finger and then puts in back in slowly, still unsure. Its torture, literal torture. You start moving your lower body against his hand, riding it. You're not sure what makes him do it, maybe just a reflex, but luke bends his finger ever so slightly just at the right point of entrance and hits your inner sweet spot, causing your tummy to do a flip and move wetness to peek from your core. His other hand finds your clit again, without you having to instruct him this time, and the mix of both actions causes your eyes to roll back into your head and you to let out a quieter but still prominent squeal. Luke laughs again, 

“Calm down little one” He teases, confidence dripping from his ever word. 

Maybe its the temptation to remove his smugness again, or maybe you're just turned on so much by this cocky side of Skywalker you've previously not seen enough of, but you instantly reach your hand under his waistband and inside his boxers, finding his length and stroking it directly with your hand. 

He instantly spasms under you, almost bucking you off him, and you thank god you're near enough to your headboard to catch yourself before he does. 

“sorry” he mumbles, steadying you with one hand, his other still inside your heat. 

“Shhh, its okay” you reassure him, before gently removing his hand from your heat and pushing him back a bit, causing him to look at you with confusion. 

“I just want to see it properly” You tell him, working on his waistband again. 

“You already have” he groans, clearly getting some secondhand embarrassment  from his previous accidental boner experience, but lowering his pants and boxers none the less, his manhood springing out. 

he hisses slightly as it meets the cool air of the room, his head rolling back ever so slightly - and you don't think you've ever seen a sight so sinful and glorious in your life. 

You lower your head down towards it but he catches your forehead against his palm before you can meet your goal, 

“erm? excuse me”

“youre excused ?” you reply, looking up at him from your position almost at his manhood, 

“what are you doing?”

“Oh luke i think you know fine well” You dip your tongue out between your lips, and it just reaches the very tip of his head, catching a little of what he's leaked there. Luke lets out a throaty moan in response, and you take advantage of his distraction, moving out from under his hand and licking his full length, from the base to the very tip. The sounds Luke makes in response are enough to almost make you tip over your own edge, but you try to suppress your own want long enough to put him all in your mouth and do a slow bob. He bucks into your mouth, unintentionally hitting the back of your throat and causing you to almost gag, the process causing him to mutter profanities that you never thought you would hear from the golden boy of the rebellion. 

You only get in a few slow bobs before his hand returns to your head, but this time he doesn't push you away, so you continue to move your mouth around his length which his fingers get lost in your hair. You cant fit all of him in your mouth comfortably, and your mind starts to wonder to what is inevitably the next step, your heat reminding you of just how much you want him down there, fucking you senseless into your own bed while the rest of the ship sleeps (hopefully)  unaware of your actions. 

Suddenly Luke is tugging your hair, pulling you up from him so that he slips out of your mouth with an audible plop. You take a chance to actually look at him, surprised at just how unravelled he looks, sweat causing his locks to stick to his forehead in erratic patterns, his eyes the darkest shade of blue you've ever seen. 

“whats wrong?” You ask him, your voice a little more course than you expected, 

“ Im going to come” He tells you truthfully, embarrassment visible on his face. You want to giggle at his innocent response, but you also don't want him to feel even worse than he clearly does, so you suppress it and keep your eyes on his, 

“Well come then “ you answer obliviously, still not truly understanding the route of his embarrassment. Sure, this wasn't exactly the worlds longest performance, but you'd seen much worse from people with much more experience - and at least Luke had actually managed to get you wet. 

I want to but “ He stopped, turning away in frustration and drifting off at the very last minute, you waited for him to finish, reaching for his hand and rubbing your thumb against it, attempting to reassure him enough to let you continue. 

“I want to fuck you” The way he says the words, like he knows he shouldn’t, makes it the most sinful line you've ever heard from anyone. You feel like he's just hit you with a sledgehammer, your core pulsing in response. 

He still wont look at you, so you simply lean back into  your bed, opening your legs, all prior shyness being pushed to the back of your mind by the raging lust that his words had fuelled. 

“Fuck me then” You instruct him, and oh boy, he does. 

head whipping around, Luke crawls back over you, eyes burning holes into yours as he meets your face, you bend your knees and grab his member with your hand, making sure to run it along your slit, gathering your wetness in its wake, before placing the tip at its rightful home, against your opening. Luke looks like he might burst, but you place a gentle kiss on his lips before guiding your body up to meet him, his tip entering you and stretching you out. You gasp at the feeling, Luke taking this as his cue to slow insert the rest of himself, filling you fully and causing you to clench around him on impact. Both of you are moaning now, maybe a little louder than appropriate for such a communal ship, but neither of you could find it in yourselves to care at this moment in time.

Luke was big, for sure. You remembered back to just before and internally cursed yourself for not making sure he used more than one finger one you; you were definitely no virgin but it had been a while since you'd been with anyone, and nobody had ever come near the size you were dealing with now. As luke started moving, the sensation of slight discomfort faded, and you were being overrides with a new force. You could feel every inch of him inside you, and partnered with his breathy moans of your name and his increasingly wild expressions, you could feel the coil of lust inside you beginning to build again. Maker, this was so good - surely things this good shouldn't be allowed for sinners like you. 

Lukes movements got sloppy all to fast, you could tell he was fighting his high as long as possible

You were overpowered with the need to give him release, slipping one hand into his hair and the other to his cheek, 

“Come for me, master” Your words caused his eyes to flash open, and his whole body to convulse, he didn't take much telling; you felt warmth leak into you as Luke let out a final throaty moan and his head flopped into your chest. 

You lay there for a while, stroking the stray locks of hair from his face as both your breathing returned to a somewhat normal level, him still inside you as you started to leak out over the covers. You'd probably be bothered about that tomorrow, like the clothes unwashed on the floor and the sound complaints from the people either side of your dorm. But for now, nothing could bother you. 

As you both drifted off into a peaceful sleep, Luke felt for the first time in years that nothing outside of this ship was worth any of his mind, he had all he needed here in this bed with you.

[zayneternal]

《 Halloween in June 》

summary ↠ It’s been 6 months since you and Taehyung have made it official, and it’s been nothing but sarcastic roast sessions and the occasional binge of Criminal Minds on Netflix, but for the last of those glorious months, a rather strange arrival has made himself known to the closing baristas at your place of work. Which brings you to the newly normalized routine of your closing shifts: the weird guy (who wears demon horns?) is seen stalking the outside of the shop again, Taehyung specifically asks you not to work the shift alone, and you do exactly what you always do...work the shift alone. 

genre ↠ angsty angst ooO

member ↠ kim taehyung

warnings ↠  physical violence | stalking

word count ↠ 5.1k

moodboard credit to @jiminspjm

~

"Don’t close by yourself tonight,Y/N. I mean it.”

The words of your boyfriend, Taehyung, sternly imparted by soft lips against your temple while you’d prepared to leave for work earlier today, are still ringing painfully around between your ears as you directly disobey him. You watch the new barista, whom you’ve just excused from the gruesomely slow shift, gather her belongings, clock out, and disappear into the caramelized evening with a resounding jangle of the door chimes.

Arching away the guilty prickles that slowly inch up your spine at the knowledge of what you’ve just done, you sigh inwardly, pursing your lips as you traipse back behind the bar to finish up the last of the menial cleaning tasks. Taehyung is fully aware of your nasty habit to send home the newer baristas a little early on particularly slow nights like this one which is exactly why he’s been blowing up your phone since you arrived, making calls every hour that you’ve been declining in the name of “busyness”, but really, you know that hearing his voice will only make you feel worse about sending Jess home when he specifically told you not to. If it weren’t so furiously endearing and didn’t make you feel a kind of protected that you’d never let him know you felt, you might think Taehyung was being a little more overbearing than he is. 

Despite Taehyung’s wishes, there’s really no point to having two people on the clock when there have only been three customers in the last hour--one of which being the regular that resides in the back corner working on the next great American novel that he’s had half finished for about two years now. You and Jess, even with her distracted habits and scatterbrained nature, got miles ahead on the closing list, leaving you very little to do besides counting the money drawer, cleaning out the espresso ports, and locking up at the end of the night.

You regret these bulleted thoughts when a sharp buzz begins smarting against the glass at the top of the pastry case, your phone screen lighting up to reveal a candid frame of Taehyung’s squinted smile, his name shining like a beacon across the top. Even after half a year of that picture present in your phone, the reminder that the man whose image it bears is the one calling you still sends your nerves blazing--a fact you’ve had to endure Taehyung teasing you about on numerous occasions (though he would admit to the same). 

Gripping your phone in your palm to cease the outright noise, you clench your jaw in preparation, letting your thumb hover over the green phone icon so long you have to rush to press down before the call times out.

“Hello?” you breathe into the receiver, the muffled sound of a Seinfeld rerun playing on the mounted TV above the coffee bar.

“Y/N! Hey,” Taehyung’s rasped resonance hurries back, slightly airy as if he’d been holding his breath before you answered. “How are things going? Is everything good there? I haven’t been able to get a hold of you all night.”

You sigh again, running a hand through the haphazardness of your hair as you lean against the pastry case, holding the phone closer to your ear. “I know, I’m sorry. Me and Jess were swamped trying to get ahead on the cleaning while we had time.” There is only a small bit of solace you find knowing it’s more of an omission than a lie. 

“Swamped?” he repeats, voice almost unreadable. “Huh, well that’s nice. Every shift I worked last week totaled maybe 10 customers.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, shifting your weight. “Yeah, business isn’t the same in the summer,” you sigh, deftly avoiding the truth of your customer count. 

“Quite the bummer,” Taehyung speaks in that way he does when he’s waiting for a laugh. One you can’t help but give if for no other reason than how stupid it was. 

“Lame,” you chuckle, finding the feeling of the smile tugging against your lips rejuvenating. 

“How’s Jess doing?” Taehyung’s next question sends your grin running back to its hiding place with its tail between its legs. You’d have to tread carefully.

“She’s...” you begin, trying your hardest to sound casual. “Ya know, good.” 

Nailed it.

“Good? Hasn’t run the espresso machine without the espresso yet? Dropped any open milk jugs?” 

You’re trying to read his tone, but he sounds naive to your “omissions” so far. “Nope, no messes, broken machinery, or third degree burns to speak of yet.”

He huffs idly. “It’s only a matter of time. I’ll make sure to warn her about the christening the espresso machine likes to give newcomers when I work with her next week.”

You manage to quirk a grin as you settle into the conversation. “I’m sure she’d be grateful to hear that from you.” It was no secret that Jess had a certain affinity for Tae and his boyish charm, always dropping soapy dishes and fumbling with change when he would walk into the shop. It was somewhat endearing. 

“Hmm,” he hums idly before saying something that shoots an arrow into your stomach. “Why don’t you just give her the phone for a sec, and I’ll tell her now? No time like the present.” 

Your muscles tense and eyes close, slowly recognizing the familiar color to his voice. He also dons it when he’s asking if you ate the leftovers that no one else but you and he have access to. 

“How’d you know?” you breathe, defeated, lifting a hand to your face.  

“You didn’t brag about how much more tip money you’re bringing home with all this ‘business’ you have,” he responds casually, and you can’t tell if you’re in trouble yet or not. “You never miss a chance to be the breadwinner.” 

You chuckle lightly, cautiously, breath tense for the moments that follow. “I thought you might be...ya know, mad if I told you I was closing alone.” 

“Again,” he corrects. “Closing alone again.”

“Again...” you amend, feeling like a child on the other side of a pointed finger. You might’ve been upset, annoyed, that Taehyung is parenting you if you hadn’t been the instigator, knowing exactly how to avoid his gentle wrath and still choosing to step in its way. 

You hear an exasperated sigh seep through the phone, and you can almost see him, eyes closed, locks shaking back and forth, nose bridge pinched between his pointer and thumb. “Y/N,” he breathes. “Are you actively trying to make my hair fall out? Cause it sure feels that way. You can’t see, but I’m holding a few shiny, very luxuriously conditioned locks in my hand right now. They should not be in my hand right now.” 

You know he’s scolding you, but his personality washes through the receiver and makes you smile--something you try to hide in your tone lest he turn into more of your father. “I promise your balding is the farthest thing from a priority, Tae.” 

“Then why, why, do you insist on blatantly ignoring me every single time?” In the background of the call, you hear the soft click of a door being shut. The jangle of keys.   

“Taehyung, please tell me you are not leaving the apartment right now.” You say instead of answering him, your own eyes closing. 

“My hair is falling out, and you’re upset that I’m coming to see you? Your priorities really are out of whack.” 

You sigh and laugh in tandem, your neck almost hurting as it tries to decide which side to commit to. Annoyed or humored. “Of course I’m not upset that you’re coming to see me. I just wish it wasn’t because you think I can’t handle myself by myself.” You begin idly tracing the frame of the register next to you, twisting the key in the cash drawer back and forth. 

Another creak as Taehyung pushes through the front door of your apartment building, the sounds of passing cars whooshing through the background as he begins the trek further downtown. “Y/N, I promise I believe you are fully capable of handling yourself. It’s just with everything that’s been happening there lately...that maniac...” He trails off, breath tight. “Just humor me. I’m protective.”

You breathe slowly before answering with half a mind to roll your eyes at the fact that you almost did want to humor him. The maverick inside you fights lazily with your secret desire to be sheltered. Instead of giving in outright, you glance at the clock and make your escape for the time being with a curt, “I’ve gotta lock up. See you soon.” 

You end the call and replace your phone on the counter, moving to inform the great American author in the back that it was closing time. He gathers his things quickly, looking slightly deflated at whatever progress he had or hadn’t made during his time here, and disappears into the blackening night. With an empty store and slight prickle of annoyance rumbling in your stomach, you flip the locks closed on the front door, swiftly turn up the chairs onto the tables, and clean the final espresso port before clocking out. 

Taehyung still isn’t here, but you aren’t surprised. Your apartment is a twenty minute walk from the shop and you’ve spent all of ten finishing up the quick close. 

You gather your things in your arms and stand by the front window, taking only a moment to decide that you will meet Taehyung halfway home instead of sitting like a duck in the dark and empty space, knowing that your maverick is winning the fight now and you want to leave if for no other reason than to show Taehyung you really could handle yourself by yourself. 

You take a step, backing away from the window with pursed lips. It isn’t even the length of an inhale after you turn your back, however, before a loud and raucous slam resounds throughout the shop. You freeze mid-step, shoulders tensing immediately and eyes wide as you slowly shift your gaze behind you, already knowing what you will find when it arrives. 

There he is. 

Party City devil horns pointed high. Halloween makeup smudged and unnerving across his wild face. Palms planted flat and tense against the thick glass of the window. 

No one knows where he came from or why, only that a few weeks ago he made a claim on main street. A demon in human form hellbent on terrorizing the small businesses littering the downtown area in the dead of night. Somehow he was in perfect sync with the closing schedules, choosing the nights when you least expected him to appear without a warning to make himself very known and frighten the living fuck out of the witnesses. 

He hasn’t hurt anyone...yet...mostly because everyone so far has been smart enough to stay out of his way. Make it home before he showed up, if you were lucky, or stay in a pair or group which he tended to keep his distance from for whatever reason. Everyone so far except for you. Of course. 

Realizing you are still frozen and freaked, you turn your eyes to the basement door that you had been heading for in the first place--a less conspicuous way to exit and the way you had been hoping to take to avoid him altogether. He hasn’t shown up at all the last few closes you’ve done alone, and most of his appearances--besides the first time almost a month ago--you’ve only heard about from coworkers. Maybe that’s why the healthy dose of fear you are supposed to have was nowhere to be found tonight. 

It sure as hell is here now. Too little too late. 

All of a second has passed since you glanced away, but with a swift look back, your eyes come up empty of all things frightening which somehow frightens you all the more. Your breath quickens. Your saliva dries, sticking as you attempt to swallow without success.

“Ok, Y/N,” you self soothe, the weak sound you hear squeak from you not in the least bit convincing. “No need to freak out. You’re gonna be just fine. Composure. Composure.” 

You swallow thickly once more and stand up straight. Maybe he’s gone? Maybe your presence is of no interest to him tonight? You try to assure yourself of these things as you slide to the basement door, glancing over your shoulder every other beat because of course you aren’t convinced. Is the basement the safest way? What if he’s waiting down there? What if that’s what he wants you think so you’ll walk right out the front door instead? Is it better to just stay put? Can he get inside?

Deciding it’s less likely he knows about the back exit and feeling too frazzled to stay, you hurry on. The sweat lacing your palm as it clamps around the brass door handle is thick, sliding somewhat as you turn and tug it open, closing it just as swiftly behind you. In the dimly light stairwell, you feel only slightly consoled.

It’s with haste now that you descend the rickety old wood and stumble across the dank room towards the hidden alley door, grappling with the key in your purse all the while in preparation for your speedy retreat. Taehyung has to be close -- and then a spike of fear because Taehyung is outside with him. 

The basement door is opened and then closed, ushering you outside within the same moment, and as you shove the key into the lock, you fumble with your phone in your free hand, your nerves making it doubly hard to unlock it and redial your most recent contact. 

“Hey, I’m almost there,” he answers immediately, sounding annoyingly clueless to the danger he so adamantly warned against. You feel almost hypocritical as you interrupt his, “Just another minute or-”

“Tae, turn around, please,” you hiss intensely, your eyes wild around you as you creep down the narrow alleyway, not sure if you should feel protected or trapped yet.

“Turn around? But I’m almost--” He pauses, confused. “Y/N what’s going on? Did you leave? Please tell me you’re still inside.” 

“I-I-” you stutter, questioning if you want to explain your reasoning in this current moment. You are almost to the end of the ally and then it would be brightly lit streets and witnesses. Almost there.

“I’ll defend myself later,” you urge, realizing you are whispering. “Just turn around, please. I’ll meet you at the apartment.” You shake your head at yourself, upset for a random moment that you are so affected just by the sight of this human apparition. He hasn’t hurt anyone, you remind yourself. 

And then suddenly you are on the ground, your phone scattering a few feet away from you. The muffled electronic questions of Taehyung are thin and blurry in the background. You realize your vision is swimming and lift a hand to your forehead where it comes away red and sticky, shining in your fuzzy view. The asphalt had hit you hard. Confusion quickly gives way to concern and then terror as you roll to your side, head pounding. The first clear thing that enters your vision is the double point of a pair of horns leering over you. 

You think you scream, but can’t be sure. The sound melts into the night, as if it never happened, leaving you even more petrified than you thought possible. Voiceless.

You feel so helpless, bleary and bleeding, underneath the shadow of this terror, his face illuminated in the most horrifying of ways as the moonlight stripes over his dark and dreary makeup, lighting up half of his sickeningly joyed smile with flashes of silver fire. 

Another silent scream.

He’s standing over your lower half, nothing in his hands to indicate he’d been the one to cause your stumble. Maybe one clumsy moment of fear has fated you to this. No one to blame but yourself. 

He leans down, and your heart stops for a moment making breathing impossible. You try to discern if the liquid you feel on your cheek is a stream of thick tears or the blood from your forehead streaking down. Neither bring you any form of comfort or distraction from the hell spawn closing in on you. He speaks no words with the part of his sinister smile, just a ravenous snarl followed by a hyena-like chortle that tells you, “I’m having fun. Are you?”

You feel yourself attempt to move away from him, your palms scratching desperately against the black pavement beneath you, cutting and clawing your skin with a welcome pain that tries to convince you you have a chance. Only you don’t and he is on top of you again, this time reaching out, his grin deepening as his ink stained hands spread around your forearm, tugging hard.

You yelp, audibly this time, gathering just enough breath to plead, “No,” as the grimy feeling of his fingers spreads along your arm like poison. This only seems to please him further as he grips harder, pain igniting beneath his touch. 

And in that moment, a moment that feels like eternity in slow motion, you want nothing more than to apologize to Taehyung. To tell him he was right and you’re sorry and you miss him and need him and want to be protected and will tell your maverick to move out for good if it means this second of pure terror will end. You close your eyes, certain now that the liquid on your cheeks is both blood and tears. Please let it end. 

And it does.

The pain blooming along your arm subsides. The searing presence of him overtop of you is removed. You can breathe. You can move. You grasp at your chest, sucking in air like you’ve never drank a breath in your life. It’s only after multiple deep gulps of oxygen that the blurry noise in the background races to the forefront, clear and alarming.

“You fucking bastard! You sick fuck, don’t touch her!” Taehyung’s voice echos sharp and furious in your ears, and your eyes fly open to drink in the scene. He’s grappling with the demon, rolling him over as the devil fights with the growls and snarls of a wild animal, biting and gnashing his fangless teeth at Taehyung’s face before his hands are pinned on either side of him. The control only lasts a moment, though, as Tae’s anger gets the best of him and he releases one of his hands to throw a few heavy fisted punches against his target’s jaw. 

The horned man’s head thrashes to the side with the force of the impact, and you know you should feel assuaged somewhat by the karma being dealt, but the way the man laughs through the pain puts your nerves on ice. You scrabble away in a moment of clarity and urgency towards your discarded phone, a slim crack racing along the screen. You fumble once more to unlock the device.

“911, what’s your emergency?” A calm voice questions in response to your dial, the juxtaposition almost enraging against the scene you’re helplessly witnessing. 

“My boyfriend!” you cry. “He’s--the other man jumped me and--please help, I don’t know how long he can keep him down!” 

“Please slow down, ma’am,” the voice urges, only a fraction more concerned than before. You have to remind yourself that it’s their job to stay calm when the other end of their line is anything but. “Where are you now?”

“Alley!” you answer desperately. “The alley behind the shops on main street! Please hurry!”

In front of you, where your eyes are still glued, Taehyung is flung to the side with a zealous convulsion from the demon beneath him. He smacks into the brick wall next to their writhing tussle with an oof before the man is clambering onto him like a beast, his face bruised and bloodied by Taehyung’s fists. Vengeful.

A shriek rips through you and the phone drops to the ground just as the 911 operator is mollifying, “Help is on the--”

“Taehyung!” you wrack, your head empty of anything but the sight of him bracing futilely against the claws the man is using to slash across Taehyung’s forearms and face. He is trying with everything in him to buck the devil from his chest, but he has him pinned good and shows no signs of relenting, practically foaming at the mouth with unfettered hate. And that face...the evil. The rage. 

You don’t think. You don’t question your next move. You’re suddenly casting yourself from where you’d been crumpled on the asphalt, a shout that could’ve come from anyone but you tearing through your throat as you launch across the space between you and your attacker. Your hands feel the tattered fabric of the demon’s jacket before your brain catches up to you, nails digging into the flesh beneath it and you yank. 

A confused grunt escapes who is now your victim as he topples backwards and away from Taehyung. “Get OFF!” you seethe, furious, terrified, and aflame with adrenaline as you tug with the strength of ten of you and slam the unaware man into the pavement. You give him no moment of respite before you’re the one in control, pinning his arms down with the weight of your knees and laying into him with all you’ve got. Your nails are just as effective as his were against Tae, if not more-so. Blood is slick in the gashes you leave against his cheeks, neck, collarbones, blazing red against his ruined makeup. The facade of the maniac is crumbling beneath you.

You see the wild anger give way to what resembles fear as he slowly realizes the mistake he has made. At least he’s sane enough for that.

Deep moans of anguish and pleading are flowing from him now, still no words, but you don’t need them to know you’re inflicting pain. Well deserved. 

“Y/N! Y/N that’s enough!” Taehyung’s voice seeps into your red rage fueled tunnel, a light at the end that you’re not ready to reach. You feel the weight of his arms wrap themselves around your midsection, pulling with a force you can’t combat before you’re unfastened from the devil. He remains grounded. He doesn’t move to run or escape, instead rolling over with another moan as he covers his bleeding face with his hands. One of his horns has detached beside him. In the near distance, you register the sound of sirens. 

“You got him, Y/N, you got him,” Tae hushes into your ear, still holding you tight against him. It’s not until he speaks that you realize you are still struggling to free yourself and return to your karmic retribution. “Relax, Y/N, we’re ok. You got him.”

It’s then that you hear yourself crying, your cheeks now completely doused in the sweat and tears of the passed moment. You’re shaking against Tae’s chest, and as he finally sets your feet back on the ground, you crumple in his arms, all the adrenaline rushing out of you quicker than you can adjust to. He catches you deftly, holding you upright as he turns you into him, hiding your face in the joint of his neck and shoulder as he sways back and forth, ushering a calming pattern against your back. 

“The cops are here, Y/N,” he whispers, alerting you to the red and blue lights swimming a few yards away and the sound of car doors popping open. Questions shout their way down the alley towards you, but you don’t hear anything but noise. You breathe Taehyung’s scent in for all it’s worth. 

“He’s right here, officer!” Tae speaks for you both, calling towards the coming aid. The sound of clattering footsteps rushes past you, and you hear the echoed moans of the man become more desperate as he’s lifted off the ground and cuffed with a comforting click before the horrid sound disappears away down the alley and into the back of a car. It’s not until that car has pulled away and sped off, your nightmare with it, that Taehyung gently pulls back, his hands coming to cup your trembling jaw. He lowers himself to look into your eyes with intense concern, searching you. The red and blue lights of the remaining cop car flash methodically behind him, and you can feel the lingering presence of another officer nearby, waiting to question you, you’re certain.

“You okay?” Tae softens. His thumb brushes your cheek.

“I will be,” you assure him with some semblance of a smile. “You?” With a sense of normalcy returning to you, you bring your own hand to ghost against the scratch marks left in the perfect skin of his face. Taehyung tries not to flinch against the sting. You’re only pacified knowing you did much worse. “Look what he did to you...”

He mirrors your soft smile of reassurance. “I’ll be okay. It beats going bald.”

You’re surprised that you laugh, given the circumstances, but you’re grateful for it. The sound feels like a weight rolling away. You lift your hand further to tousle his very thick and secure locks. Taehyung sighs against your fingers. “Can we go home now?”

____________

“Ow.”

“Oh, sorry,” you smile apologetically as you dab the cotton ball softer against Taehyung’s skin. His eyes are closed, palms resting against your thighs as you both sit criss-cross-apple-sauce on the floor of your apartment bathroom. You’ve been tending to each other’s wounds for the past half hour after arriving home, but with every pat pat pat of rubbing alcohol and Neosporin across marred skin, you’re hit with a wash of guilt that began bubbling in your stomach the moment that cop car drove away.

You clear your throat and the lump in it. “Um, Tae...thanks again for dealing with the police afterwards.” You’ve thanked him five times already, but you can’t seem to satiate the guilty conscience living it up in your gut. “I don’t think I would’ve spoken coherently if I’d tried.”

He doesn’t call you out on the fifth repeat. He just sighs softly and smiles against your gentle cotton touch. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. I’m just glad you’re ok. Seeing you in that alley when I got there...” He trails and his smile tenses before he shakes it off, not wanting to add anymore weight to the night. “Well...it could’ve been a lot worse.” His hand tightens around the flesh of your thigh.

Your careful trail across his face slows to a stop. Taehyung opens his eyes to question you only to find your gaze fixed over a spot on the floor, eyes clouded.

“Y/N...” he whispers, reaching for your face.

“I’m sorry,” you rush, pushing his hand away. He stares at you, confused, hand frozen in midair. “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.” The lump in your throat won’t be swallowed away this time.

“Y/N, don’t--”

“No, Taehyung, it is,” You urge, your voice tightening as the prickle of heat ignites behind your eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong.” The warmth wells the more you try to contain it behind the brazen tone of your voice. “If I had just fucking listened to you, we wouldn’t be sitting here on the floor wiping blood off of each other’s faces. If I wasn’t so goddamn stubborn, I wouldn’t have had to cut into a lunatic in a middle of an alleyway. Tell me that’s not my fault, Taehyung.” There is no hope of hiding the tears now as they bubble and boil over and down your cheeks, stinging all over again. You’ve had enough crying for a lifetime tonight. “You can’t. You can’t tell me it’s not my fault because every time I look at your face--” You clasp his jaw between shaking hands. “--I know it is.” 

You bite your trembling lower lip and let go of him, pressing the heel of your palms against your burning eyes. You want to hide, disappear, get swallowed up in this moment, almost ashamed to be sitting in front of him so freely. You want him to at least get mad at you. You deserve something. 

Instead of any of that, though, you feel the warm and soothing trace of Taehyung’s fingers bloom around your wrists, peeling them away with gentle force until your rash red face, swollen with cuts and tears and splotches, is revealed to him. He takes both of your hands into one of his, his free palm coming to wipe away the waterfall streaming across your skin, and you can do nothing but squeeze the warmth of him like any second it’s going to disappear. Maybe that’s exactly what you deserve after what you caused tonight. The thought of it shreds you.

“Y/N,” he calls, and you meet his eyes for the first time, a fresh flow of waterworks exploding when you see the utterly pure sincerity he wears in his gaze. “Listen to me very carefully.” He leans forward, tugging you along until your foreheads rest gently together, his hand trailing to the back of your neck where he holds you secure. It’s still not close enough. 

“Was a single decision tonight made with any intention of purposefully putting someone in danger?” 

The question gives you pause. You weren’t expecting it. “...No.”

“Then nothing--not a single thing--that happened to either of us was anyone’s fault. Do you hear me? You did nothing wrong.” His voice is like honey in your ears, his soft conviction so mesmerizing, you want to believe him. “Even had I known what would happen...I would’ve done it all over again for you. Never question that.”

You cry softly as you stare at him, utterly speechless as to how you deserved someone so full of kindness and goodwill. You don’t know if you’ll ever figure that one out.

He tips his head forward and attaches his lips to yours in a slow kiss, the feeling of it sending a wave of total calm and reassurance through you. When he pulls away, he pulls you with him until you are cradled against his chest, his legs walled around your form as you rock back and forth on the bathroom floor, surrounded by discarded cotton and open tubes of Neosporin.

“I love you,” you hear yourself whisper against him.

A content sigh from above you precedes lingering lips atop your head. “I love you,” he agrees. “More than you know.”

Through the fading sting of tears and freshly healing wounds, you really do believe him. And no amount of worry-fueled balding or strong-willed stubbornness will change that.

___________

ok, before you say, “devil horned man? really?” which many of you MAY HAVE already done I PROMISE YOU this plot was inspired by very true events at a very real job i had a while back, LEGIT someone like this exists, and i just ran with what I was given, ok thank yew.