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bree-peasant · 4 months ago

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One for the Ages - a Kakashi x fem!Reader fic

(Jump to Chapter 2)

Author's note: Hey guys! I've not written a fic in years, but I'm stuck at home with a broken ankle, so getting back into it! This one is a reader self-insert, but the reader has a pre-established past, that'll reveal itself throughout the story. A real slowburn, intended to have multiple parts, so please let me know if you enjoyed it and I'll keep going!

Word count: ~2.5k

Summary: A new shinobi joins the Konoha ranks and Kakashi finds himself inexplicably drawn to her. Includes scenes with Gai & Iruka.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and trauma, otherwise none!

Enjoy! ♡

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Chapter 1/5:

"I've gathered you all here because there will be a new shinobi joining your ranks..." The Third Hokage paused his address to the highest ranking village ninjas and glanced over to the woman standing beside him. Her face looked solemn but sure.

"Y/N is a refugee from the Village Hidden in the Wind and will be taking over one of the graduate genin teams as their sensei. I'm sure you will all make her feel welcome in our village's customary ways."

"But Lord Hokage!" Gai made his way through to the front of the small crowd. "I don't mean to challenge your decision, Lord Hokage, but how are we to accept this stranger as a shinobi, and a jōnin level one at that! Surely her skills must be put to the test beforehand!" A whisper of approval among the crowd followed Gai's words.

The Hokage turned to look at Y/N with a raised brow.

"I will do what is required of me." She nodded in return.

"Then it has been settled!" The Hokage turned back to the crowd. "Y/N will showcase her talents as a shinobi in a friendly fight. And I'm sure you won't mind being her opponent Gai, since you spoke so fervently on the matter." There was a note of playfulness in his voice.

"Yes of course, Lord Hokage! Maito Gai never backs down from a challenge!" The bushy browed sensei gave his usual flamboyant pose and a thumbs-up, not forgetting to throw a glance at his rival Kakashi, who stood towards the back of the crowd. For once Kakashi had put his book down, as he studied the new shinobi's face. It wasn't quite that he knew her from somewhere, rather, he knew that look in her eyes...

The crowd parted to make room for a make-shift arena for the match. Y/N and Gai stood in the centre, facing each other. There was a small smile playing on her lips as she watched Gai flash his stance.

"Forgive me if I don't go easy on you, newcomer!"

"I didn't ask you to."

"Confidence! I respect that in an opponent! Now let's see what you've got!"

In a flash Gai was behind her with a kick to the head, but despite his impeccable speed and technique, Y/N seemed to block it with ease. He followed up with a fury of punches and kicks, but none of them seem to land. It was like she could sense him coming from each direction. As Gai tried to land another powerful kick, Y/N successfully dodged and tried to return the favour. Gai easily evaded her attack and jumped some distance away from her.

"You're fast, I'll give you that. But you've gone in too cocky." Y/N smirked, an evident smile creasing her face for the first time that day.

"It's time we ended this fight. Wind style, syphon jutsu!" A gust of wind rolled around Gai and pulled him towards Y/N like a torpedo. Before he could release himself, he was met with a powerful kick that sent him flying towards the end of the fighting area, cracking the ground beneath him with his fall.

"Well, I believe that's sufficient proof, wouldn't you say?" The Hokage pronounced from the podium. "Let's call it a day before someone gets a concussion!" As the Hokage and his men made to leave, Y/N approached Gai and extended her hand to him with a friendly smile, helping him back to his feet.

"Your skills are indeed formidable! But don't think I'll go down that easy on our next encounter!" He flashed her a toothy grin, which she matched right back.

"Your taijutsu is some of the best I've ever seen. Perhaps you could teach me in a friendlier sparring match next time?"

"I'd be delighted. You should see my student Rock Lee's taijutsu skills as well! He's quite the talent. Of course, Neji Hyuga is also on my team and he's a real prodigy."

"A Hyuga! I believe I might have one of those on my team too... I really must brush up on my knowledge of the village history and the next generation of shinobi..." Y/N brushed the sweat off her brow with a concerned expression on her face. She really had her work cut out for her.

"In that case you should speak to Iruka at the Academy. He's been teaching the last few classes of genin to graduate there, he'll be able to catch you up on things!" Gai gave her a thumbs up. "I will see you around, Y/N-sensei. Welcome to Konoha!"

She bowed in return and made her way towards the exit. Kakashi stood near the door, leaning against the wall with his book in hand. As she walked passed him, he looked up and his lazy eye met hers.

"Your book..."

"Hm?"

"It's upside down."

Flustered, Kakashi looked down, and then back up towards her, but she'd already disappeared. "I've never been worse at my job as a ninja, than in this moment." He thought to himself following the rest of the crowd outside. Perhaps following the new jōnin from afar wasn't the best tactic to employ here. He'd have to get to know her the old-fashioned way.

Next day:

The kids had all just piled out of the classroom when he heard a knock on the door frame.

Iruka looked up to see a female shinobi he'd not met before.

"Is this a good time?" She asked.

"Ahem, yes, what can I do for you?"

"My name is Y/N. I'm a... transfer from another village. I'll be training team 8 from now on. I was told you could help me catch up on the village's history, Iruka-sensei." A soft smile blossomed on her lips as she bowed her head to him.

Flustered by the way she had voiced her request, Iruka blushed and stammered out a response. "Of course, I'd be happy to help! What is it that you want to know?"

"Well, my students' backgrounds for a start, the village clan history, really anything I can get my hands on. I'm keen to do right by these kids."

Her words strung a chord with Iruka. "Yes, we all are. Well, I have some books with me here that you're welcome to borrow, and I have some more things at my flat that might be useful. I could bring them tomorrow... or if you'd like to join me, I have some spare time this afternoon, I can take you through them myself?" Iruka was bright red by this point, it had taken all the courage he had left that day to suggest it.

"That would be awfully generous of you, if you're sure I won't be imposing!"

"Not at all! I'll just finish collecting my things and we can head out!"

They walked back towards his place, Iruka filling their silence with stories of his students, often sending Y/N into fits of laughter. It was nice being in Iruka's presence, warm, light. Iruka, in the middle of a story, turned to her, gesticulating wildly for added affect, when he bumped shoulders with someone.

"Hey! Oh... Kakashi... sorry, I wasn't looking."

The grey-haired ninja stood in casual clothing with a grocery bag in his arm and an unreadable expression on his masked face. He nodded to Iruka without even looking at him, his lazy eye resting on Y/N instead.

"You two look like you're getting along."

Iruka blushed, but Y/N's face remained unchanged. She made a mental note of his name. Kakashi. There was something about him that made her feel uneasy. Like he could see right through her.

"Day off?" She casually asked.

"Not quite. I've been assigned a solo mission and just had some time to prepare for it."

"Well good luck on it." Iruka threw in. "We better get on, Y/N, it'll take me some time to dig everything up for you."

"Right." She bowed to Kakashi and followed Iruka, already a few steps ahead, eager to lose the notorious jōnin. She couldn't help but throw a glance back at Kakashi, just to see his back lazily swaying as the distance between them grew. Something in her ached at the sight.

A few days later:

Another sleepless night. It wasn't that her new bed, in her new room, part of her new life, was uncomfortable. It was rather that things were too comfortable. She couldn't remember the last time she could sleep peacefully without fear for her life before coming to Konoha. The Hokage had been kind enough to give her time to settle in, so she hadn't been sent on any missions yet; still, her body jolted awake at night, her mind unable to tell reality from the demons that haunted her sleep.

Tonight was even worse, Y/N hadn't been able to sleep a wink, aware of every slight noise, the room stuffy, her body hot. In a moment of desperation, she'd jumped out of bed, grabbed a scarf and walked out in the cool night air. She strolled aimlessly, her eyes adjusting to the dimly lit village, her head spinning with thoughts about the past, the training she'd prepared for her newly acquired genin, whom she'd meet soon, but most of all (and she really did try to shoo that particular one away) she thought about the mysterious grey-haired ninja, whose single visible eye had bored into her soul.

As if answering her muddled thoughts, a sudden rustling caught her attention. A shadow jumped out of one of the nearby trees, landing onto the ground, stumbled, hand clutching side, but noticing he wasn't alone, tried to regain composure. The figure walked towards her, slightly strained until he came into sight.

"Kakashi! What are you doing sneaking around at this time of night!"

"I should ask you the same thing. A little late for a stroll, is it not?

His mask and clothes were covered in mud and dust, his whole look quite dishevelled. Noticing Y/N's eyes studying him curiously, he let out a slight chuckle.

"I've just come back from my mission, that's all."

"You're injured." She said plainly.

"It's nothing, really."

"I can smell the blood from here. I think you should go to the hospital..."

"No." He quickly cut her off. Seeing the look of persistence on her face, he realised he wouldn't get out of this one so easily.

"I can't go to the hospital, they'll keep me there for days, and I have... I have things to take care of tomorrow." His whole body sagged in resignation.

"Can I at least have a look?" She said softly.

"If you must, but I warn you, it's not pretty."

Kakashi unzipped his vest and lifted his shirt, showing a nasty, open wound on his left side. It didn't seem too deep, but definitely painful.

"Don't worry, I've seen enough blood in my time." Y/N stepped closer, as the darkness of night didn't allow for clear vision. She didn't fail to notice the strained muscles of his abdomen, or the way his v-line tucked into his trousers, but pulled all her strength into focusing on the wound.

"You won't go to hospital, fine. But will you let me help? If you don't take care of this, you'll wind up with an infection, that'll keep you in hospital longer than a few days."

"What can you do?" Kakashi's voice sounded unsure.

"Do you think you could trust me?"

He stood silent for a moment, studying her face. To his own dismay he nodded.

"Then follow me."

They walked together slowly, Kakashi tiredly dragging his feet at times.

"You can lean on me if you need to. I can handle the weight."

"No, I'm quite alright. Just tired."

"You're very stubborn, you know. I'm surprised you're even coming now." He could detect a smile in her voice, the thought of which made him shiver.

"Not as surprised as I am." He swallowed thickly. He hated talking about himself. "What were you doing out at this time anyway?"

"I..." Y/N fell silent for a moment. She still didn't know how to open up to strangers, how much of her past she could reveal without it becoming dangerous. "I find it hard to sleep. If I do manage it, I'm plagued by nightmares, the rest of the time I'm just... on edge. Walking outside seems to help."

Kakashi just nodded in response, hoping it didn't go unnoticed in the darkness that surrounded them. In truth, he wanted to tell her he understood perfectly, and that he couldn't remember the last time he got a good night's sleep. That he felt perpetually exhausted and feared the shadows that his mind conjured at night. Most of all, he wanted to ask if they could keep each other company on their sleepless nights. But it felt much too soon for any of that, so he said nothing.

"We're here." Y/N announced, standing at the door of her building. She pulled out her key and pushed the door open, making way for Kakashi to go in.

"Is this... your flat? Y/N, I hate to tell you this, but I'm really not that kind of girl." Kakashi tried to joke, but something caught in his throat and he coughed, writhing in pain from his wound.

"Very smooth." She scoffed at him. She led him into the kitchen and turned on the light, revealing strings of drying herbs, hanging across her window.

"Sit here." She pointed at a chair and Kakashi silently obeyed, taking in his surroundings. She didn't have much, just enough mugs and plates for the comfort of one, no pictures or personal memorabilia hanging on the walls. So she hadn't brought much with her then.

Meanwhile, Y/N picked a couple of different leaves from her drying racks and started mixing them into a paste, adding liquid from little jars, strewn along the window sill. Finally she walked over with the mixture in hand.

"May I?" She asked, pointing at his wounded side.

Kakashi lifted his shirt once more, and kneeling next to him, she started carefully covering the gash with the sticky green concoction.

The room was filled with a grassy scent. Her hands were cold, which eased the pain of contact with the wound. Kakashi tried his best not to wince, but his body betrayed him by twitching away from her every time she touched him. He wondered whether it was just the pain, or the sensation of being touched by another, that had become so foreign to him outside of combat.

"There, there. Almost done." Her voice was soothing, almost sweet. Kakashi's body instinctively relaxed to the sound of it. They remained like this for a few seconds, him silently watching her movements from above.

"You know, you should take it easy on Iruka. I think he has a crush on you." He spoke quietly, testing the waters.

Y/N cocked a brow, but refrained from looking up, worried that her flushed cheeks would betray her.

"I think that's a stretch, he was just being helpful, that's all." She tried to keep her voice nonchalant.

Kakashi just hummed in response, unsure if he'd managed to find what he was looking for.

"Right, you can put your shirt back down. This should speed up the healing, and subdue the pain. It'll harden and act as a protector for the wound. Just wash it off in a couple of days." She got up, heading towards the sink to wash up.

"How did you know to do this?" He asked, standing up to test how it felt when he moved.

"There was a woman in my village." Y/N spoke with her back still turned to him, eyes focused on washing the mixing dish. "People were afraid of her, thought her a witch. But she was kind to me when not many others were." She placed the dish on the drying rack and turned back to look at him. There was a sadness in her eyes, that didn't evade Kakashi's notice. "She shared some of her knowledge of herbs with me. Insisted it could save my life some day."

They stood silently, staring at each other. It seemed they had both suddenly realised that they were alone in her flat, and weren't sure what to do with that knowledge.

"I should probably go." Kakashi was the first to break their silence.

"Yes. Probably should."

"I'll see you around. And Y/N... thank you."

Without waiting for a response, Kakashi turned towards the door, and left somewhat hurriedly, his heart in his throat. Y/N remained in her place for a minute longer, staring at the space he'd just occupied. How right it had felt to have him here, in her kitchen. How afraid she was of that thought.

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Next chapter

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi x reader slowburn #kakashi x reader fic #naruto fanfiction #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi sensei #kakashi sensei x reader #iruka umino #maito gai

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jaybug-jabbers · 1 year ago

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Gelatopod - Ice/Fairy

(Vanilla-Caramel Flavor is normal, Mint-Choco is shiny)

Artist - I adopted this wonderful fakemon from xeeble! So I decided to make up a full list of game data, moves, lore, etc. for it. Enjoy! :D

Abilities - Sticky Hold/Ice Body/Weak Armor (Hidden)

Pokedex Entries

Scarlet: Gelatopod leaves behind a sticky trail when it moves. A rich, creamy ice cream can be made from the collected slime.

Violet: At night, it uses the spike on its shell to dig into the ground, anchoring itself into place. Then it withdraws into its shell to sleep in safety.

Stats & Moves

BST - 485

HP - 73

Attack - 56

Defense - 100

Special Attack - 90

Special Defense - 126

Speed - 40

Learnset

Lvl 1: Sweet Scent, Sweet Kiss, Aromatherapy, Disarming Voice

Lvl 4: Defense Curl

Lvl 8: Baby Doll Eyes

Lvl 12: Draining Kiss

Lvl 16: Ice Ball

Lvl 21: Covet

Lvl 24: Icy Wind

Lvl 28: Sticky Web

Lvl 32: Dazzling Gleam

Lvl 36: Snowscape

Lvl 40: Ice Beam

Lvl 44: Misty Terrain

Lvl 48: Moonblast

Lvl 52: Shell Smash

Friendship Level Raised to 160: Love Dart (Signature Move)

Egg Moves

Mirror Coat, Acid Armor, Fake Tears, Aurora Veil

Signature Move - Love Dart

Learned when Gelatopod's friendship level reaches 160 and then the player completes a battle with it

Type - Fairy, Physical, Non-Contact

Damage Power - 20 PP - 10 (max 16) Accuracy - 75%

Secondary Effect - Causes Infatuation in both male and female pokemon. Infatuation ends in 1-4 turns.

Flavor Text - The user fires a dart made of hardened slime at the target. Foes of both the opposite and same gender will become infatuated with the user.

TM Moves

Take Down, Protect, Facade, Endure, Sleep Talk, Rest, Substitute, Giga Impact, Hyper Beam, Helping Hand, Icy Wind, Avalanche, Snowscape, Ice Beam, Blizzard, Charm, Dazzling Gleam, Disarming Voice, Draining Kiss, Misty Terrain, Play Rough, Struggle Bug, U-Turn, Mud Shot, Mud-Slap, Dig, Weather Ball, Bullet Seed, Giga Drain, Power Gem, Tera Blast

Other Game Data

Gender Ratio - 50/50

Catch Rate - 75

Egg Groups - Fairy & Amorphous

Hatch Time - 20 Cycles

Height/Weight - 1'0''/1.3 lbs

Base Experience Yield - 170

Leveling Rate - Medium Fast

EV Yield - 2 (Defense & Special Defense)

Body Shape - Serpentine

Pokedex Color - White

Base Friendship - 70

Game Locations - Glaseado Mountain, plus a 3% chance of encountering Gelatopod when the player buys Ice Cream from any of the Ice Cream stands

Notes

I'm not a competitive player, but I did my best to balance this fakemon fairly and not make it too broken. Feel free to give feedback if you have any thoughts!

I have a huge bias for Bug Pokemon since they're my favorite type, and at first I wanted to make it Bug/Ice, since any intervebrate could be tossed into the 'Bug' typing. But ultimately I decided to keep xeeble's original idea of Ice/Fairy. There's precedent of food-themed pokemon being Fairy type, and Ice/Fairy would be very interesting due to its rarity (only Alolan Ninetails has it). Its type weaknesses are also slightly easier to handle than Bug/Ice imo

The signature move is indeed based on real love darts, I could not resist something that fascinating being made into a Pokemon move, even if the real games may possibly shy away from the idea. (Honestly it could be argued "Love Dart" is based on Cupid's arrow so Gamefreak might actually get away with making a move like this though.) Its effectiveness on both males and females is a nod to snails/slugs being biological hermaphrodites. I can see this move also being learned by Gastrodon and Magcargo in Scarlet/Violet

#pokemon #fakemon #honorary bug pokemon #pokemon scarlet/violet #pokémon #ice pokemon #fairy pokemon #gen 9 #molluscs #snails #mycontent

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multiwreckedmess · 2 years ago

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Two Princes (An Unexpected Part 2)

Pairing: Prince!Hyunjin x fem!servant!Reader x Prince!Felix Genre: Royalty AU Smut WC: 5.5k Summary: The Princes are a dream too good to be true. The previous encounter feels like a mere hallucination. They are determined to prove you wrong. TW/CW: Power imbalance. SoftDom!Hyunjin, SoftDom!Felix, unprotected penetration, non-explicit consent, reader is called “darling” “doll” “toy”, hyunlix is called “sir”, oral sex, throat fucking, gagging mentioned, lots of body fluids, creampie/cum in mouth. Hyunjin has a name kink ig? Felix and Hyunjin aren’t related but are close like brothers so if that gives you the ick heads up. Written mostly in a fugue state with no editing because HAPPY 5-STAR DAY

As usual, this is fiction not a resource manual for how to do literally anything in life. This does not represent ANYONE real or fictional. It’s a fantasy AU FFS if you cannot figure that out I cannot help you. Also not proofread sorry...

Part 1 idk that it matters though. But people see to like it!

Eyes shut to prolong your feeling of floaty weightlessness you roll over, surprised to find more mattress instead of the edge of the bed. Sandwiched between cool cotton sheets your fingers run over the fabric, softer than you remember but not unfamiliar, it’s fabric you’ve felt too many times to count as you practiced folding immaculate corners. There’s even more light here than in your small single room on the ground floor that has to fight for the occasional beam. Gripping the thin fabric of your chamise with the luxurious cotton bedspread you bolt upright, eyelids flying open and heart pounding. The room is full of light linen fabrics in preparation for summer, bouncing the sun off of the walls brilliantly. Your maid’s uniform sticks out, dark stiff cloth neatly hung over the back of a small wooden chair nearby. Window open to the spring breeze, the smell of the castle garden flowers wafts past. It’s not your room, it’s not even near your side of the castle, you’re not even sure you’ve seen this room. It’s too quiet and lovely for you to feel comfortable in, years of conditioning rousing your aching body from the sheets to hurriedly don your uniform. Unfussed about fully lacing your bodice you scurry out of the door, still making the effort to close it quietly, muscle memory hindering your quick escape. Heels barely touching the tiles, your feet propel you forward, down the side stairs to the cool darkness of the ground level, your home level. It’s easier and more familiar for you to navigate this, both the people and the corridors.

A little sore and a little confused you’ve never felt more relieved to crash unseen into the kitchen, yanking a bundle of herbs from the pantry. You knew how to prepare the remedy, the ‘backup plan’ that had passed through the eons of people before you. Choking back the bitter concoction in your room alone you sighed. A small price to pay for a moment in a dream. It barely felt real. None of your interactions with the Princes ever did. Memories tossed in a haze of fairy dust thickly layered over your senses. What seemed so real and physical even a day prior was faded and yellowed and distant already.

Never to happen again for sure. You were a birthday present. An experience for the men. Nothing more. Don’t delude yourself.

From bundled in your covers, much rougher than you’d slept in the night before, to busying yourself with daily chores, you tried your best to forget. Yet you couldn’t help thinking giddily of the possessive way their eyes watched you, their tongues talked about you. Worth of winning, of dominating. A good subject, the best really that they could hope for. Their prized gift.

It was easy to slip back into the natural rhythm of the castle. The council only convened on a monthly basis and without their direct request, few women were asked to care for either prince, mostly needing hands for meals and daily exercises, nothing that particularly required you. They were independent and easy to avoid without drawing much attention. Free agents at least within the walls of the fortress.

It’s humid and sticky. It finally feels like summer is nearing after a cool spring. You don’t expect anyone of importance to see you, hair pulled up and away into ‘work mode’ straggling strands flying every which way. Cheeks hot from exertion you knead your fresh-from-the-icebox pie crust. Flour billowing up around your elbows as you slam the dough into the smooth marble counter. Finally seeing fit to press it flat and roll it out to cut into thin strips and carefully lattice the top of your strawberry rhubarb pie.

“I’ve been simply craving a slice of pie,” a deep rumble purrs in your ear as you weave the delicate strips between each other. “-and I do love strawberries.” You bump up against him as you scramble to curtsy, “Your Royal Highness, Prince Felix. What-why-you- forgive me but this is the servers quarters-” “This is my castle,” he retorts, “nothing is off limits that is within my sight or grasp.” You nod your head in a half bow, “correct sir, of course but- why? Your eyes shouldn’t be soiled by this!” He smirks, eyes flitting to a stack of freshly washed strawberries, waiting to be pitted and sliced. “I wanted a snack,” he explains cooly, arm brushing passed yours to grab the fattest, ripest strawberry on the top of the pile, “and there were none left in the auxiliary kitchen so I thought I’d find my very favorite sweet.” Pouty lips wrapping around the plump fruit he bites down, red juices tinting his mouth a pinkish hue. Eyes closing slowly like a pleased cat, Felix moans. You struggle to keep your composure as a telltale throb courses to your cunt. Slowly his lids flutter open, hand turning the strawberry to you, eyes locked on your face. “It’s perfect. Won’t you try a bite?” “Sir I couldn’t, really, they are meant for-” the firm flesh of the fruit bumps against your lower lip, finishing your sentence for you. “Darling, you’re going to refuse a treat from your future king? That’s not the good girl I know.” A bead of juice slides over your lips, traveling down your chin. Felix watches with pride as you slowly accept his offer, hesitantly opening your mouth, waiting for him to place the berry further on your tongue. When he doesn’t move you gingerly crane your neck forward to take the other half of the berry and bite down. An explosion of acidic sweetness plays over your tongue. It is as he said, a perfect berry, the dictionary definition of a strawberry, tangy and fresh. It’s difficult to control your eyes, momentarily rolling back in your head in delight. “Delicious,” Felix watches you savor the experience, feasting on your reaction, arms caging you in as you chew. “I’m still a little hungry though,” his thumb swipes the trail of red from the corner of your mouth as you swallow, “aren’t you?” The wet pad playing over your lips you open and accept him in, tongue twirling around him sucking the juice off gently. Felix shudders, hips pressing forward and pinning yours to the counter. Your entire nervous system pulses, tingling waves traveling out to your fingertips, an alarm jolting through you. He leans in, eyelids half lowered, like he’s going to kiss you. Instead he stops, firmly pressing his damp thumb to your cheek and brushing flour off you before pulling away completely. You can’t contain the gasp, the obvious release of tension from your body, the way you bit your lip to try to control your expression. “Cute,” he coos, turning heel to the door. “Mother always said not to fill up on sweets though. Too much sugar will spoil the meal.”

Sweaty, dirty, skirt hitched and legs unstockinged, the hot mid morning sun beats down on you as you plod through the large kitchen garden. Far less aesthetic than the gardens outside of the window you’d woke up by after that fateful day but far more useful. Flowers here won’t turn into beautiful bouquets or pressed ornaments to be put on display. They’ll turn into sustenance or medicine or be plucked to prolong the herb’s fragrance. “Were I not who I am, I think I’d rather like the country life.” You hear a voice float your way. “Says the one standing on the outside,” you retort without thinking or looking up. “Country life is easy when you’re not the one elbow deep in-” bent over, yanking a shallot free of the earth you are interrupted by hands at your waist and thighs meeting your backside. Yelping you whip around ready to smack the assailant who dares handle you in such a rough manner but as your head turns and eyes meet you find yourself diverting the energy into a curtsy. “Your Royal Highness, Prince Hyunjin, I’m so sorry I-I would’ve never- if I’d known- why are you-? Why didn’t you-? I’m not decent!” You stammer helplessly, eyes down, quickly working to let your skirts down to preserve what little appearance you hoped to have in front of your lord. “Darling, I’ve seen you far less decent and will see you far less decent again, if you’ll have me.” A lump catches in your throat, brain melting in the heat of the sun or the heat of his gaze. “I thought- I assumed it was just- I was just-” Hyunjin smiles and laughs, brushing back the small hairs stuck to your brow. It’s a kind laugh, a knowing laugh. “Now now, our mothers taught us better than that. Never waste wine, words or women, that was the little idiom.” He looks at you with such sincerity, eyes crinkling into half moons, beads of sweat forming on his own brow as the sun rises higher. As you stand silent in the middle of the garden surrounded by freshly unfurled leaves it feels private and intimate. Slowly his arms mimic the growing beanstalks beside you, wrapping around at your waist casually. “Sir I’m dripping sweat and caked in dirt you really shouldn’t-” “What if I like that about you? The sweat and the dirt. What if I want my woman to be sweaty and dirty?” He cocks his eyebrow with a smirk. It’s hard to contain your eye roll even as your heart flutters, “then that is your choice sir but-” “You can call me my name. We aren’t in earshot of anyone, you can just say it.” “Sir I-” “I want you to say my name.” You sigh, shooting him a pleading glance as you untangle yourself from his arms, “sir please my training dictates-” “I can either say please or I can order you but I want to hear you say my name so you will.” “Prince Hyunjin,” you say hesitantly, hoping that it will be enough to satisfy him. He shakes his head, “just the last part. Just my name.” “Hyunjin,” you breathe out. Though it’s a silly superstition but it feels like a bolt of lightening might strike you at any time, your body tensing in preparation for the hit. Even the slight brush of his fingertips to the side of your arms has your shoulder flinching in response. “It sounds so sweet coming from you, darling, but I rather hear you scream it.” He says with a twinkle in his eye, hand wandering to your ass to cup it. It’s easier this time, “Hyunjin,” falling exasperated from your lips. “Not here.” With a chuckle he steps closer, impossibly closer. The sun is hot and so is he, both sending rays of heat from their bodies to set you aflame. He smells like earth and musk. “It’s my castle. If we want to right here, we can. And if anyone says anything malicious about it I can have them beheaded.” Your eyes bulging, you gasp. Normally you’d assume he was joking but his face is so neutral, so matter-of-fact, that there has to be at least some truth to his words. The proximity to power scares and excites you. “But- my brother might hear about it and he’d be so disappointed to miss out on the fun! I don’t think I could bare his sorrowful stare.” And so Hyunjin leaves you, stunned in the middle of the kitchen garden, only half the leeks for dinner gathered in your basket and the afternoon sun high in the sky.

“You’ve been requested for duty in the throne room again,” the matron eyes you up and down. Logically you know, her judgemental gaze is simply routine, scrutinizing your preparedness to undertake the job. It was a part of your work you were accustomed to. Fastidiously managing every aspect of the staff was her job, any emotion had been removed long before you were born. “Be sure to tidy yourself.” She’s brusque with words and actions alike, hurriedly closing your door behind her. “The princes wouldn’t care if you marched in there only in your chamise, they seemed to make that quite clear,” you snickered to yourself, the matron’s final word to “tidy” still fresh in your ear. You weren’t shocked to be called back, neither was she. You were well trained in her eyes, a star pupil of hers, of course the princes would see the value in your quiet servitude. However you knew that your aptitude at sitting in a corner and refilling goblets wasn’t the reason they were asking for you and that was enough to make your stomach flutter. The tension of anticipation building and surging through you, an energy, infectiously radiated from your aura. How would you manage to keep yourself in check for however long the council would be today

High arched windows, velvet curtains swapped recently for billowing linens, light flooded the great hall. Even your corner, your darling little corner, was brighter than you remembered. The twin glittering thrones posed domineering at the head of the long table, lined with similarly lush chairs although none as impressive. Memories of your previous foray into the belly of the castle appear in flashes as you blink. The cool air kissing your skin before their warm hands had time to. The prickle of tension passing up your spine as they admired you. You shake yourself, you have to stay focused. You can’t get your hopes up. You were a gift, a toy, an experience for the Princes and you should be happy enough with that. No matter how they were raised or their stations in life, they were men after all. The matron had always warned you, in love and politics all men were knaves not knights. Besides what good would swooning do when work had to be done? Play your part, the stalwart help, rather than expose the small stuttering maid you feel like in their presence. It isn’t long before advisors and guests alike trickle into the room, some mingling while standing, others immediately settling into their seats. A good mixture of familiar faces and new. The hum of voices busys your mind as you wait for someone to have want for something. When the princes enter it feels like the oxygen is sucked from the room. The older advisors don’t seem to notice, happily continuing their side conversations. The guests notice. You notice. Instead of heading to their thrones they join the fray around the table, quiet confident smiles and assured strides carry them. Hyunjin seems more at ease, leaning to the side casually as Felix maintains his near military posture. They almost blend into the group, were it not for their beauty. Their hair is even longer since you last saw it, flowing almost past their chin, pieces neatly tucked behind their ears. Were they yours to have and hold you’d braid pieces back from their face, maybe weave flowers or ribbons through. You catch yourself. It wasn’t your place to consider how they managed any part of their appearance. It was your place to monitor the food and drink and get additional assistance as required. A clanging of a fork to a glass jolts you up and onto your feet. Hyunjin’s glass is aloft, casually stretched in front of him, focused on you. “Before we officially begin,” his voice fills the hall, ringing clearly off the walls, “I’d like to welcome our Miss. Would you please come to the head of the table for me darling?” You nearly choke as all eyes turn to you. There are no other people near you, there is no excuse to hide behind. An order is an order and you find your legs moving stiffly below you, stepping almost mechanically as they bring you to the head of the table. Felix’s hand swoops behind you, the warmth of his palm spreading through the layers of bodice, corset, and chamise, easily maneuvering you between the princes with a gentle pressure against your spine. Hyunjins hand lines up just above Felix’s, like a guard on either side. “As she passed her trial run with flying colors, we’ve requested she become a permanent fixture as a part of these meetings,” Hyunjin beams as the party claps. Arms pressed to you, they keep your standing as your legs waiver. “Please say hello. We insist.” You clear your throat, “I’m honored too much by your graces. I look forward to fulfilling my duties to the utmost,” your voice breaks awkwardly, embarrassed heat creeping up the back of your neck. “We look forward to using all of your services.” Felix announces, the polite clapping of the attendees carefully covers his cheeky swat at your behind. Hyunjin gently squeezes your hip with a reassuring nod. It feels like home, even just for a second.

Meetings and side conversations and boring court business seems to last forever. Normally you’d see at least some attrition from the advisors and guests but today each one appears to be firmly cemented to their seat. Your spine grows tired, eyes drooping with fatigue. It would be one thing if they needed you as they did the last meeting, running around with pitchers of various drinks to suit all tastes but today no one seems to want for anything. Somehow the absence of work is more tiring than the work itself. Your time is spent finding small ways to keep yourself alert, tapping your toes, staring at the bright sun, even busying yourself by changing out the many pitchers to their cooler cellar kept counterparts. Even with the intense conversations and work happening it’s impossible to miss the prince’s apologetic glances as you pass the table once more, topping off glasses of both water and wine. “Please,” Hyunjin claps his hands together, “no more. My brother is getting a headache and I fear I should shortly follow if this goes much longer. As I see it, there are no more pressing agenda items for this month, the rest may follow at our next meeting. Thank you all.” Hyunjin looks over his joined hands, locking eyes with you as he sits. He knows the staff’s rules, carefully watching you as you wait on your stool.

Your eyes move between the princes, sensing the game of cat and mouse has already begun without your being aware. The thought enters your mind- at least this time you caught on before you were half dressed. “Come, darling.” Felix’s command rings in the empty hall, shaking you all the way down to your core. “We’d like some of your assistance.” Your pulse quickens, stepping lightly off the stool. Ears buzzing and oversensitive your footsteps sound like the marching of foot soldiers even as you pass lightly on the marble floor. It mirrors your heartbeat, wild in your chest and sinking low into your gut. “Your royal highnesses, what do you desire?” You curtsy low in front of them. Meeting their gaze from beneath your brows at the apex of the bow. They look briefly at each other and smile. “You.” Felix states plainly. The blatentness of it chokes you, air catching between your lungs and throat. “I heard my brother paid you a visit,” Hyunjin begins. “He left hungry.” “That’s funny as I heard a similar rumor about you Hyunjin,” Felix’s eyes stay locked on you. “visiting her in the garden but…you left empty handed.” Your eyes flit downwards, embarrassed. “I’m sorry sirs, I’ll-I- if you are left wanting than the burden is on me.” Wordlessly they rise from their thrones and meet you on the ground before their thrones. “Are we really so burdensome to you?” Despite being only a pair their presence surrounds you, slowly circling on opposite sides like sharks. “No that’s not what I - you- sirs- I-my words- it has been a long day for all of us and really-” you mutter, flustered. Head still tilted down Hyunjin takes the chance to plant a kiss on the back of your neck, lips working their way from your spine to the juncture between of your shoulder and side of your neck. Slowly his arms wrap around your waist, hands caressing up the front of your bodice. There’s no tugging, no hurry to remove the rough fabric under his fingertips. Instead he treats it like the most luxurious silk, breath fanning hotly as he groans. “You’re right, we did you wrong today. Should’ve ended those pesky formalities much sooner. You must be so tired.” Hyunjin murmurs empathetically, the tones buzzing against your skin.Your body shivers, spine straightening with your head collapsing back on his shoulder. The slight suction of his mouth as he nips and sucks along his path has you head back on his shoulder, gasping for air. “We must’ve mistaken a tired mind for disinterest, isn’t that right darling?” Felix presses himself to your front, sandwiching you between their warm frames. “Or did a cat catch your tongue?” He laughs and his licks from your collarbone up the column of your throat. If it weren’t for their pressure you’d have collapsed to the floor between them as your legs turn to jelly.

The princes feel the additional weight immediately. “Move?” “Mhm.” “Garden room.” “Perfect.” Their casual communication to each other is a far crying from the flowering sentences they court you with. Brisk, short, economical with their words. The dialogue of two men who need none to understand each other. Felix breaks from you, his hand still curled over yours, tugging the mass of you and Hyunjin forward through the room to a small door you hadn’t remembered ever spotting. Whisking you down the corridor you barely remember the area before you pop out the other side into the room you’d woken up in after your last foray. The sun casting a reddish orange over, particles of dust float in the air, the bed shoddily made, unlike those you tended to. Less like the image of opulence you’d originally made it to be, more of a sanctuary from daily castle life.

They assume their roles naturally, Felix left to undress you, like last time, as Hyunjin undresses himself. Felix’s hands are sure of their path, unlacing your bodice, unpinning the waist of your skirts, popping open the confines of your corset, each action a smooth steady motion. Goosebumps coat your newly exposed skin as he peels off layers at a time. He peppers the areas with warm kisses as he tosses the fabric to the floor at the side of the bed, dark fabrics sitting like piles of fallen leaves. With the smallest of pushes Felix presses your back to the mattress, pulling your legs up against his torso to shimmy your loosened skirts and bloomers the rest of the way off your body.

Head sliding sideways Hyunjin reappears in your line of sight. Lit by the streams of the setting sun his body line is thin and muscular, elegant as ever. Even as he slowly strokes his already aroused member he looks beautiful. Lips parted slightly and eyes locked with yours, his thighs meet the foot of the bed and hault him just barely within your fingertips reach. Eyes unable to tear themselves from him, you feel your thighs press into Felix’s shoulders as he pulls your pelvis to the edge of the bed. Chest tensing, eyes blown wide, you gasp as his lips tickle your inner thigh. For a moment your eyes cross as Hyunjin laughs, a series of three short airy hums. “Focus on me, darling,” he purrs, “you know how much I love to see your pretty expressions.” With a breathy “yes, sir,” you nod shortly as he approaches you, knees cushioned by the billowing fabrics of the bed. Hungry for him you drop your jaw and let your tongue loll, an open invitation he readily takes. Supporting at the back of your neck, he coos as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, barely pursing your lips as you kiss your way down. Hyunjin shudders when you finally wrap yourself fully around him and you preen. Seeing the Prince in such a vulnerable state so suddenly grows the fire in your belly, motivates you to go further, screwing your eyes open to watch him as you struggle to take the full length into your throat, tears burning and blurring your vision. “Do you trust your future king?” Hyunjins long fingers trace your throat. Slurping you nod. “If it’s too much tap my thigh twice, if it’s urgent, pinch. I don’t care if it hurts me, you have my permission.” Carefully he lays your head down, placing his thighs on either side of your head. As he takes your mouth you feel him bump against a resistance in your throat. Trying your best to force past it, you find the position puts you at his complete mercy, trapped between him and Felix. You gag softly as he attempts a second push. “Slowly darling, breathe through your nose. Trust me.” Delicate strokes of his fingers down the column of your throat calm you. With a full breath in through your nose he pops past the barrier with a hiss, nearly immediately retreating fully, strands of spit still connecting the two of you. With tender touches he swipes the mess from your jaw, “you did so well darling. See how easy it is when you trust me?” “Yes sir,” you pant. Palm pressed to the side of your neck he fucks your throat, watching the swell of your neck as he fills you, whining with each flex of your muscle eager to gulp him down. “Just like that, keep breathing darling. Breath calms-fuck- just a little more.” Pacing your breathing is a difficult task with Felix taking every opportunity to distract you. His breath is so warm on your inner thighs as he teases you, lips just barely brushing over your slit as he passes from leg to leg as if one would get jealous of the other if lingered on for too long. Finally he sees you’re wound up enough to settle at your mound. Tongue dipping between your folds and tracing you slowly, the warms of his mouth meshes with the heat of your sex. Hands tangling into the sheets as you try to ground yourself as he hones in on your clit. Flicking and swirling his taut muscle around it you hardly notice the almost inaudible whines that escape your open mouth. His hands grasp your thighs to him as your hips kick upwards, still speared between the two of them.

As you feel Hyunjins thighs tense below your palms he withdraws with a groan. “He’s doing a good job right? Your Prince is treating you well?” Hyunjin goads. “Tell him, tell him how good he is.” “Sir, so good,” you croak, barely able to crane over your body to look down at the source of pleasure. “Which sir?” Hyunjin smirks, “we’re both your sir. So tell me who.” “Prince Felix, sir,” you stutter and catch on his name. Your fingers desperately want to scramble and tug on the mop of blonde hair between your legs. Groaning, you gather the sheets into your fists to satiate your need. “It feels so good. God you feel so good.” Endorphins flood your body, bursting from your center out to your fingertips like white hot fire. Your whines reach a fever pitch, warbling as your body shakes. “Sir, Felix, sir,” panic rises in your throat as another wave quickly hits. Your abs tense and brace down, the walls of your sex clenching and pulsing around nothing. His hand joins his mouth, fingers short and small but strong to make up for it, quickly fucking into you as tears prick the corners of your eyes. The world spins around you, spiraling into intense pleasure. A wash of relief passes over you, in you, through you, sensitizing you. You gulp air down, lungs hiccupping it back in small bursts as you tremble and twist and cry, senses lost to the world. “Enough, we don’t want to break her,” Hyunjin pulls Felix back from you by his mane of hair, his mouth and jaw glisten with a mess of spit and your juices. Felix pants and snarls like a man possessed, “wanted to see how many she could take.” Shaking himself of Hyunjin, he runs his hands along your legs, still vibrating with exhaustion. “Wanted to spoil our present. Otherwise how will she know how sweet she tastes?” “Go show her then,” Hyunjin clambers between your thighs, practically forcing Felix from his post. Cock in hand he teases your hole, gathering the mess to lubricate himself. He fills you with one steady thrust, stretching out to accommodate him with a groan. You moan as his hips push harder into the backs of your thighs, the head of his cock stirring your guts. Looking up at Felix dreamily he seems like the son of Apollo rather than a son of a man, shining back at you as fiercely as the sun. “You missed this didn’t you doll?” He leans down lips to yours, catching your reply before you manage to voice it, stealing a messy kiss as you moan. You taste more him than yourself, the tanin of the red wine still clinging to his tongue, as juicy and ripe as the heat of the august sun had baked the grapes that made it. “Yes sir,” you manage to groan, open mouth pressed to his shoulder as Hyunjin leans his whole body weight forward into your thighs. “Good. Maybe next time you won’t steal yourself so selfishly from us.” Hyunjin hisses as his hips pull back, pulling a groan from you as well. Your hands scramble indecisively, the need to grab him and fill yourself once again fighting your training to treat each man with white gloves. You can hear Felix chuckle at your side, pitch starting low and climbing slightly. He’s finally fully undressed himself, each groove of his musculature seemingly cut from glass, his undertones contrasting with Hyunjin’s, both luminescent in the low light. Laid bare like this their different lineages could not be more clear despite their joint upbringing. “You want to be ours, right?” Felix sweeps some of the collected strands of hair from your brow. “We won’t play with a toy that doesn’t want to be played with.” “Sir- I want- I want-” your reply emerges in quick gasps as Hyunjin’s hips roll into you over and over, driving you back into the center of the mattress. “You want? Hyune- are you not fucking her hard enough? She wants.” Felix smirks at the elder. Hyunjin grunts and withdraws from you, clearly annoyed by Felix’s goading. Grabbing your hips he shoves you onto your side and then stomach, his grip leaving indents in your soft flesh. You scramble to accommodate his wordless directions, pushing your knees below you as he pulls your ass up, presenting to him lewdly. Hasty and animalistic he pushes back into you easily, new angle and new sense of fullness. Wobbling with each thrust you try to prop your chest up and away from the bed, arms knocking out from under you, defeated. Back arched fully up you gasp into the mattress, wailing and moaning muffled in the down, drool soaking into the sheets. “Who is fucking you dumb?” “Sir, Prince Hyunjin sir.” You yelp against the damp fabric. “What is my name?” A wail escapes your mouth instead of a name. Hyunjin leans over, hips still pistoning against you. With a shaky growl he commands you,“say my name.” It’s like a dam in you breaks fully, flooding the air with words and his member with your arousal. “Hyunjin! Hyunjin,” you scream without care for formalities, over and over until his name becomes a sound rather than a proper noun. “Hold her up for me.” You vaguely hear Felix ask Hyunjin before a tug at your arms pulls you up. Tension keeping you jutting outward with your back bowed, your shoulder joints burn as he silences you with his cock, lodged between your lips. No coaxing, no slow pace, just a man chasing a means to an end. He’s thicker than you remember, mouth straining to accommodate him comfortably as the spongy head of his cock hits your barrier, briefly popping past it as Hyunjin bounces you forward. Completely at their mercy, you feel like you’re floating between them, pinging back at forth, never left wanting for long. Your tongue can feel the seizing of Felix’s impending climax as he stuffs himself down your throat, a whimper catching in his throat as he unloads before stumbling backwards as spit and cum burble and overflow from your lips. Hyunjin follows closely, collapsing forward and warmth rushes to fill your core. This must be the ecstasy of death, you think, every fiber of your being reverberating uncontrollably beneath your lover as he sucks small kisses possessively into the nape of your neck. You aren’t sure if the heartbeat you feel thudding is yours or his. “She’ll stay here.” “With us?” “With us.”

Part three eventually. I have an outline its just everything in between. Probably not for a while though ya’ll i’m sorry. I’m going to have a few Ateez centric pieces out because June is theeeee month for comebacks.

In the meantime my sorta updated masterlist is here

#hyunjin smut #felix smut #hwang hyunjin smut #lee felix smut #skz hyunjin smut #skz felix smut #stray kids hyunjin smut #stray kids felix smut #skz smut #stray kids smut

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samasmith23 · 2 years ago

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Iceman Almost Came Out as Gay Back in the 1990s

So prior to Brian Michael Bendis revealing Iceman (aka, Bobby Drake) was gay in the pages of his All-New X-Men run from 2015, apparently writer Scott Lobdell had planned to have Bobby come out of the closet two decades earlier but was unable to go through with his plans. Lobdell did however, lay the ground work for Bobby coming out during his time on the X-books in the mid-to-late 1990s.

Specifically, during an encounter with Emma Frost back when she was still a villain, the former White Queen of the Hellfire Club briefly took control of Bobby’s mind and actually used his mutant powers in more creative ways than he ever had done before. Emma accurately pointed out that Bobby was intentionally holding back the true potential of his powers, and was using humor as a shield to mask his own insecurities due to his conservative upbringing by mutantphobic parents.

Writer Sina Grace actually followed up on this old plot point from the 90s during his Iceman solo-series which immediately followed Bobby being outed by the time-displaced Jean Grey in All-New X-Men. In addition to depicting Bobby becoming more comfortable with his sexuality and gradually out to his fellow teammates, ex-girlfriends like Kitty Pryde, and especially his bigoted parents...

...Grace finally allowed Bobby to fully embrace his potential as an Omega-Level mutant. Not only did Iceman singlehandedly defeat the unstoppable Juggernaut in combat after after overcoming his greatest fear by coming out to his parents, but he began using his powers in more creative ways than before such as constructing ice-shuriken and multiple ice-clones and kaju.

Furthermore, Grace also revealed in his run that yes, during that time Emma Frost had mind-controlled Bobby back in the 90s, she actually did learn that Bobby was gay. But unlike the time-displaced Jean Grey, Emma never outed Bobby’s closeted sexuality to him or anyone else, and instead respected his privacy due to her own tragic experiences with her older brother Christian Frost being forced into "gay conversion therapy" (aka, torture...) by their abusive father.

Essentially, all of the people who try to argue that Iceman coming out makes zero sense or that it somehow "ignores/erases several decades of past continuity" (I'm looking at you homophobic Comicsgaters!) completely miss the fact that both Bendis & Grace were simply building upon the foundation that was already put in place by Lobdell back in the 90s! That’s NOT “ignoring or erasing several decades of continuity,” but the exact opposite!

And if you still need further proof that Bobby was always gay, just a reminder that during his very first appearance in X-Men (1963) #1 by Stan Lee & Jack Kirby, Iceman was the only person who was not acting like a horny jack-rabbit at the mere sight of the then-new student Jean Grey.

In other words... Iceman was always gay even as far back as his inaugural issue! Suck it Comicsgaters!

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stoic--rose · 4 months ago

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over the last two weeks or so ive played through earthbound two and a half times, and mother 1 three times. replaying both back to back repeatedly has made me realize a lot of things

1.) mother 1 is a LOT more open in what it lets you do, where it lets you go, and when. once you open up the train tracks, you're free to go do the rest of the game in pretty much any order you want. hell, you can make it all the way to R7038xx without ever getting a single melody, which i find to be pretty interesting. not only that, but you dont even need to get most of the party members. strictly speaking, the only one you truly need to get is Loid, and that's just to get rid of the rock on the train tracks. and even then, with the use of an exploit i found out about only a few days ago, you can get rid of him and go fight giygas by yourself, which is pretty funny.

2.) mother 1+2 is like, wicked impressive. nevermind the fact that they crammed earthbound onto the gba, they also packaged it with mother 1 as well, and they're both the full games. it ain't no rayman advance kinda deal either where it's a super botched port, like it's a perfectly valid way to play both games, and some people even prefer the gba version of mother 1 since it makes a couple of quality of life improvements. not to mention, they rebuilt both games from the ground up, it's not like they could emulate snes on gba. (i mean, you can emulate NES apparently, since there's that nes classic line of games for the gba, but... this is cooler.) the sound department could... definitely use some work, and the colors look pretty washed out, but there are patches to fix the colors, and if you're playing the game on a real gameboy, i think the sound is the last thing you'd be concerned about. also, apparently some people took the time to apply the earthbound script to the mother 2 half of mother 1+2, and even reprogrammed the text system to have the original fonts and make it non-monospace, which is SUPER impressive. for my second playthrough of earthbound i played it with the new fantran patch, and it's pretty damn slick.

3.) man, fuck the sword of kings. i realized very recently that i'd never fully committed to the sword of kings grind, and decided that this would finally be the time i claim my birth right as a mother fan and do it. and like, it SUCKS. i mean, to begin, yes it's annoying that it's a 1/128 chance, but it goes deeper than that. the fact that it's only dropped by an enemy that you can potentially never see again, and it's the ONLY item poo can equip as a weapon is pretty fucked up. not to mention, the other enemies that they put in the starman base just absolutely suck, i hate the nuclear power robots so much. they made the grind WAY more painful than it already would have been otherwise. at the very least, i find it to be very gracious that jeff's spy command has the secondary effect of letting you steal whatever item an enemy would have dropped mid battle, just so it doesn't get overwritten by another enemy drop, which by the way YES that can happen, and YES i had it happen to me. it sucks ass. and the worst part is, the sword of kings isn't even that good!! and neither is poo on a gameplay level! you get the guy way later than any other party member, he has all these little catches like not being able to eat american food or equip anything but the kingly items, he gets taken away from you almost immediately after you get him, he just feels really weird. starstorm is pretty cool, but you only get the omega version right before the final area, and you can only use it on the handful of encounters you get there since you can't really use it in the final boss. (i mean technically you can use it in the first phase, if you want to get a biblical reflected beatdown when it hits both pokey and giygas) idk, the guy just isn't all that useful, and it's unfortunate since i really like him on a design level.

i have more words i want to say but honestly i might save them for an entry on my website instead since im very close to the tumblr word limit rn

#hilda's junkyard #earthbound #mother 1 #mother

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drainthehero · 6 months ago

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Superboy and the Pink K, Ch 2

In the weeks following the incident with the pink Kryptonite, Superboy threw himself into his crime fighting activities. He would try to tell himself that the frenzy of effort was about making his town a safer place, but he could not dispel the gnawing emotions which raged within him following that humiliating encounter.

The young hero also told himself that his relocation to the booming city of Metropolis was to finally confront a new level of criminal element, but in truth he had been hounded by images from that day which could now never be fully erased. Every time someone in the town talked to him in his tight fitting costume he would assume they were imagining his diminutive cock beneath those skimpy red briefs.

Metropolis offered him a wonderful chance to be appreciated by a new sea of people that he was charged to protect. And the opportunities to be admired were plentiful. Having prevented bank robberies, car jackings, jewellery thefts and artefact heists, the Boy of Steel had quickly gained the adoration of the city.

One clear morning Superboy was flying over the city as he tuned his super powered senses toward any crimes underway. Quickly picking up on something he flew down to confront two thugs as they attempted to mug a well-dressed couple in a quiet laneway. The Teen of Steel landed and faced the thugs, blocking their access to protect the pair, hearing a sigh of relief from behind.

A wry smile lit the face of the handsome hero as he shook his head and raised an eyebrow. “Those guns are not going to do you any good against me.” Superboy folded his arms as he spoke, flexing his big biceps and puffing out his powerfully muscled chest as he cast a derisive glare at the weapons. “You should just put them down and come quietly.”

Not to be dissuaded the two thugs opened fire on the handsome young hero who just stood stoically as the bullets fell to the ground in front of his red boots. Superboy reached forward in a smooth motion and took a weapon in each hand, crushing them effortlessly with one hand.

The two thugs watched in disbelief as the superpowered teenager disintegrated their weapons, then rushed at him in a vain attempt to overpower him. Superboy merely grabbed each around the waist and picked them up in his powerful arms, before flying them off to the closest police station. As he deposited the two he wasted no time in returning to his rounds of the city.

Flying towards a new disturbance, the Boy of Steel landed in an abandoned warehouse where he discovered crates of drugs being unloaded for distribution. Superboy decided to make an entrance, causing the force of his landing to make a small sonic shock which grabbed the attention of the criminals, causing them to stop in their tracks.

The men were in a ragged semi-circle around him. “This criminal scheme of yours stops now, I won’t allow these drugs to be sold here in Metropolis.” As he addressed the group of men, he assumed his heroic hands-on-hips pose, flexing the impressive muscles which were barely concealed by his skin tight costume.

One man – likely the leader of this gang – stepped forward with his hands stretched forward in supplication. “Ahh. The one they call Superboy – so you are real then.” The Boy of Steel held his ground firmly and continued to look imposing at the leader. “Surely we can come to some kind of arrangement,” he had the gleam of a negotiator in his eye, “so you can look the other way.”

“The only arrangement we will be making today is for you - and all these drugs - to be handed over to the authorities.”

The leader shook his head slowly, “We outnumber you 8 to 1 kid. And I don’t think you have any weapons or tricks hidden in those skimpy tights of yours.” Superboy bristled at the disrespect to his classic costume. “So why don’t you leave us alone before we have to mash up your pretty face.”

“I had hoped to not need to show you my abilities in person, but it seems you would like this the hard way.” Even before he had finished speaking the group of men was rushing toward him with fists and weapons brandished. Not wanting to cause too much harm, the Boy of Steel easily disarmed them and bound them up with various pieces of steel from the warehouse.

Clapping his hands before him as he observed the subdued villains, Superboy called out, “Ok we’ve had our fun. Now it’s time for us to…” the voice of the young hero faltered as he felt his concentration wavering, unable to focus on what he had been saying.

His mind rapidly clouded over and no matter how much he shook his head to clear his thoughts, the thick fog would not lift. To make matters worse he could feel a strangely familiar heat spreading across his body.

The gang leader stepped around and into the view of the Boy of Steel, holding a necklace before the handsome but slackened face of the young hero. Superboy struggled to even focus his vision on the glowing pink gem attached to the necklace, but found himself starting to run his hands over his spandex covered muscles. “Ughhhh,” he moaned as he shook his head weakly. “No… no… not that.”

“Of course you remember this, Superboy?” said the criminal with mock dripping in his voice. As he continued to speak he placed the necklace over the head of the immobilised young hero and let it rest around his neck, with the gem hanging inside the iconic yellow S covering his chest. “You were exposed to this from the moment you interrupted us, so by now I presume the effects are running rampant across that sexy muscled body of yours.” As the pendant came to rest on the boy’s muscular chest, he let out a whimpering sigh which was accompanied by a pained expression on his handsome features.

“Now. Stop touching yourself, Superboy.” When he did not immediately comply, the leader placed one hand firmly on the thick muscled pectoral of the young hero, causing an immediate whimper from the very aroused Teen of Steel. As the hand was withdrawn Superboy gave a small whine and looked up with eyes of a hurt puppy.

“Please…” he started but was immediately cut off.

“I said,” reiterated the criminal firmly. “Stop touching yourself.” Superboy immediately complied and forced his arms to his side and managed to focus his gaze on the hand, as it then resumed its position on his chest. “Good boy,” he continued. “Do as you are told and you will get more of this than you can handle. Now put your hands on your head and flex your biceps, Superboy.”

A look of longing had settled on the beautiful young face of the hero and he nodded, “yes sir.” The Boy of Steel complied without hesitation, forcing his big biceps to harden beneath the bright blue spandex, and was then rewarded with the other hand feeling a bicep before the criminal leaned in to kiss the young hero, who returned the passionate kiss eagerly.

After the kiss was finished both hands were removed from the Teen of Steel, who once more looked like a hurt puppy.

“Aww, look at those big sad blue eyes,” commented the leader. “Do you want some more worship, Superboy?” was met with an emphatic nodding of the head. “Good boy, now free my men so they can get back to work.”

In a blue and red blur of movement, Superboy freed all of the men before resuming his position with hands on his head.

“Collins and Masters,” barked the leader. “Over here and get to work like we practiced. The rest of you continue to load those crates.”

As the thugs returned to their tasks, two young men moved to stand in front of Superboy and then slowly removed their clothing, each revealing a duplicate costume of the super powered teen beneath their outer clothes. Both men had amazingly ripped physiques which were easily bigger than the Boy of Steel, who was mesmerised by the beauty of the costumed muscle hunks which were god-like copies of himself.

At a nod, the two men sandwiched the young hero, pressing their spandex clad muscles firmly against him before running their hands over his biceps and body. Finally, one boy locked his lips onto the Boy of Steel for a deep and passionate kiss while the other sucked on the sensitive neck of the hapless hero.

For his part, Superboy was completely lost to the bliss of this muscle orgy, moaning and writhing uncontrollably. The leader simply stood back and enjoyed the spectacle as it unfolded, his hard cock visibly outlined beneath his tight denim jeans.

“Are you enjoying them Superboy?” The only response was a gurgled moan through the kiss which had not yet been broken. The young men had been hand picked for their attributes by the leader, believing that their superior muscles would evoke even more submissiveness from the musclebound Teen of Steel. “Good. Phase two.”

Collins broke the kiss and took a step back from the young superhero, leaving Masters to run his hands freely over the muscled body. Collins then proceeded to flex and pose his huge muscles, causing Superboy to gaze and moan with undisguised lust.

“Do you like his muscles Superboy? Doesn’t the costume show them off nicely?” Superboy nodded enthusiastically. “I think he might have even bigger muscles than you, Boy of Steel.”

A confused look crossed his face as he absently nodded in agreement, continuing to watch the flexing. “May I please feel his muscles, Sir?”

“Good manners, my boy, but first we need to compare your muscles.”

Standing across from each other both young men proceeded to flex their muscles as the measurements were read out by Masters. As each number was announced and it was clear that Collins had bigger muscles than Superboy across the board, the mind of the poor hero was overwhelmed by his inadequacy and the ongoing lack of touch from either of the muscled hunks.

As the last measurement was confirmed, Superboy looked up in defeat. “He is truly bigger than me, Sir. He fits that costume even better than me.”

During the process all the boys maintained rock hard boners, which continued to drive Superboy crazy with lust, as precum stained the bright red briefs of his costume.

“He does indeed Superboy,” agreed the leader in thought. “Maybe it is you who should be doing the worshipping?”

“Yes please, Sir. Command me and it shall be so.”

“In good time. But we have not yet finished. I did say all muscles didn’t I?” he said as he let his eyes drift lazily down to the precum stained red pouch and its contents.

Superboy immediately felt his cheeks burn red with shame. “Ah… every… muscle?”

“Of course, and it looks to me as though you are all ready to be measured. Let’s whip them out, but I will help you with yours Superboy as your hands must remain where they are.”

As Superboy moaned a protest to the imminent humiliation, Collins and Masters immediately undid their bright yellow belts and pulled their hard cocks out of their briefs, displaying their monstrous meats.

Meanwhile, the leader moved over to the young hero and carefully removed the yellow belt. Ignoring the poor heroes please of, “please sir, don’t,” he lowered the red briefs and reached his hand inside to free the shaft and balls from their confinement. The Teen of Steel was torn by conflicting emotions as the shame of his diminutive member was clearly put on display while he was massively turned on by his hard little cock being touched and played with. “Ughhhh, your hand feels so good sir.”

“My, my, Superboy. From here it looks as though my boys might have you beaten for this muscle too.” He positioned Collins so that his big 9” cock engulfed the small cock of the hero. “What do you think? Shall we measure them?”

Superboy gulped and shook his head, feeling his cheeks burn an even brighter shade of red. “Please don’t,” he implored. “My little dick is so tiny, Sir. I can’t even see it under that monster cock.”

Despite the protests by the Boy of Steel, the measuring tape was quickly deployed and read out. “8.5 inches for Masters, 9.5 inches for Collins and…” a dramatic pause while the tape was held once more alongside the hard shaft, “4 inches for the … Rod of Steel.”

“That is pretty clear Superboy, all of your muscles are inferior to those of my Supermen.”

The defeated and humiliated hero hung his head in shame. “It is true, Sir. They are superior to me in every way, and even look better in my costume. Please, sir, may I touch and worship them?”

At that query, Collins brought his arms up and flexed all of his huge muscles through the spandex, eliciting a whimper from Superboy. “Please Sir, I will do anything you ask.”

“Alright, I will consider your offer while you worship the true super muscled body here.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Without pause, and with his small cock still on display and leaking precum, the Boy of Steel proceeded to feel, kiss and lick all over the flexing form of the hunky criminal. “Please Sir, may I cum? My cock is so hard and my balls are so full.”

“You mean your pathetic little cock?” corrected the leader. “You are not permitted to stroke yourself. Ask the real Supermen if they would like to help you cum.”

“Yes Sir,” replied Superboy, shame dripping from his voice as he corrected himself. “My pathetic little cock is so hard and throbbing. Please,” he directed at Collins and Masters, “would you stroke my pathetic little cock so I can cum?”

Collins gave a disgusted look as he replied. “Do you see our cocks, Superboy? Wrap your hands around them.” The young hero complied, letting out guttural moans as he felt the girthy shafts. “Good boy. Now, tell me, why would we want to touch your tiny little rod when we have these big shafts to properly fill our hands?”

A few tears of shame rolled down the handsome face of the young hero as he slowly stroked the two big cocks and replied, “you wouldn’t, Sir. They feel so good to hold.” A spark of initiative flashed across his eyes as he stroked the big members. “May I make you cum then, Sirs?”

“Soon Superboy,” interjected the leader. “But first, you promised me a favour and it is time for you to deliver.”

“Of course, Sir,” replied the honourable young hero. “Anything if I can worship these Supermen.”

A strengthened alloy dildo was lifted out of a wooden box, causing the eyes of the young hero to widen with apprehension as he gulped and took in its meaning.

“Given the inferior nature of your muscles compared to my own Supermen, you are the logical one to have your super ass fucked like a good submissive boy.”

The conflict was clear on the handsome face of the Teen of Steel. But even as he considered the request, he continued to feel the muscles of the spandex clad “Supermen”, feeling his need for release grow even further. “And when,” he ventured, “I am wearing these. Please will you permit me to stroke your Supermen to cum?” The lust was clearly evident as Superboy continued to feel the magnificent muscled bodies.

“Of course, Superboy,” came the response. “A deal is a deal, and the big cocks of my Supermen deserve to blow their loads after all.”

“Oh god,” moaned Superboy as the criminals continued to flex and pose under his touch, also touching the muscles of the teen hero to increase his arousal and desperation. “God, yes please do it. I need to stroke these huge cocks and watch them blow.”

The big dildo was affixed to a bolt in the floor as the iconic red briefs were lowered, exposing his smooth bubble butt.

“Good boy, my handsome hero. Spread your legs and lets get this dildo into you so it is nice and tight.” Superboy spread his legs wide as the leader took a large amount of lubricant in his hand then leaned in for another passionate kiss as he ventured a finger down to cover the tight smooth hole in lubricant. The contact and intimacy caused the hero to moan and shudder as erotic convulsions wracked across his muscled frame.

“Oh god, Sir. Your finger feels so good on my ass.”

Liberal amounts of lubricant were then applied to the domed head of the dildo and Superboy used his power of flight to hover above it with legs spread wide before lowering himself onto the reinforced alloy shaft, moaning from the pain as his tight virgin hole was penetrated for the first time. The alloy shuddered from the force of the tight Hole of Steel, so the leader wrapped his hands around the balls and shaft as he whispered, “relax, Superboy.” He very lightly massaged the head, careful not to make the Teen hero blow his load. “Don’t fight it, just relax your body and let it glide inside of you.”

Superboy let out a relaxed sigh which was immediately followed by a cry of pain as he sank a few inches down and felt the dildo enter his virgin hole. The Supermen continued to worship the muscular hero, while pushing down on his shoulders to drive him further down and deeper onto the shaft, until finally 7 inches of metal were buried deep in the ass and guts of the Boy of Steel.

“Well done, Superboy,” congratulated the leader. “How does that feel inside you?”

“Arghhh,” groaned the hero, continuing to drive himself all the way down the shaft until he sat on the ground. “It hurts so much, like my ass is being torn open. But it also feels good to be doing this for you, Sir, and for your hand to be on my little Rod of Steel.”

“Now you may stroke my real Supermen and make them cum.”

“Ughhh, thank you sir,” groaned Superboy in bliss. The two muscle studs moved up to point their big hard cocks directly at the Boy of Steel, who realised that they would empty their load over his chest and stomach.

Eagerly taking a cock in each hand, Superboy enjoyed the sensation of the full girth in his hands and started to stroke with earnest.

“Oh sir, it feels so great to hold and stroke real cocks. They make my hands feels so small!”

The two Supermen flexed their bodes for the visual enjoyment of Superboy, also reaching forward and running their free hands over his muscles, causing Superboy to moan and leak even more precum from his rock hard little boner.

As he continued to enjoy himself, it became clear that Superboy was even raising and lowering himself on the dildo, clearly liking the feeling of the metal alloy fucking his ass. For their part, Collins and Masters were lost in the sensation of being jerked by the sexy young hero and were clearly approaching climax.

The leader positioned himself behind the Boy of Steel and added his own roaming hands, whispering into his ear. “Such a good boy, hero. Ass filled and jerking two cocks.” Superboy merely moaned in ecstasy and continued to pump the two big cocks.

The two Supermen both moaned they were about to cum. Moments later, thick jets of cum erupted powerfully from the two studs, lashing the Boy of Steel with multiple blasts of jizz. He felt the heat of the juice as it landed on his chin, chest and stomach and continued to milk the cocks while the two men moaned.

In a frenzy of lustful need, Superboy drove himself deeper still onto the dildo and without any warning felt his own hands-free climax hit. He shouted in joy as large gobs of superpowered cum shot from his cock to fly over the heads of the muscled studs and land far off in the distance. The glow from the synthetic pink kryptonite faded and it once more became a dull lifeless rock.

The leader quickly took in the unexpected turn of events and realised it was time to go. Signalling to all his men they rapidly dropped everything and made a hasty escape. While the poor Boy of Steel merely continued to sit impaled on the alloy dildo as his small and soft shaft dribbled cum.

When the pink K haze finally lifted, Superboy found himself alone, covered in cum and still impaled by the big dildo. Groaning, he exercised his power of flight and lifted himself off slowly, confused by an unexpectedly enjoyable sensation as the dildo pulled out of him.

He grabbed at the pendant swinging from his neck but noticed that it was no longer glowing. With a quick nod of decision, Superboy grabbed both the pendant and the alloy dildo and flew off to clean himself up.

#superhero #superman defeated #superboy #pink kryptonite

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maghamoon · 2 years ago

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Reading a Birth Chart 101: The Complete Guide,

Part 2: Every House Has its Own Smell

glossary: the planets, planet rulership over the signs, elements (water, fire, earth, air signs), modes (cardinal, fixed, mutable signs), the houses and interpretation basics

last time, we spoke about the sun, moon and rising in all the different signs. through this, we slowly started to build an understanding of the 12 zodiac signs and planets.

today, we will learn about all the planets you can encounter in a chart.

they are:

sun- father, ego, self

moon- mother, internal reactions to external events, emotions, processing

mercury- intellect, communication, verbal expression, outward expression

venus- love, beauty, art, pleasantries, attraction

mars- passion, drive, movement, anger

jupiter- expansion, growth, generosity, the good natured father

saturn- difficulties, perseverance, hard work, the disciplining father

uranus- sudden changes, reform, activism

neptune- collective consciousness, dreams, spirituality

pluto- transformation, rebirth, power

the 12 astrological signs are ruled by these planets:

aries, ruled by mars

tarus, ruled by venus

gemini, ruled by mercury

cancer, ruled by moon

leo, ruled by sun

virgo, ruled by mercury

libra, ruled by venus

scorpio, ruled by pluto/mars

sagittarius, ruled by jupiter

capricorn, ruled by saturn

aquarius, ruled by uranus

pisces, ruled by neptune

aside from being ruled by planets, the signs can be divided into elements and modes

elements of signs:

think of what you imagine when you hear fire, water, earth or air.

fire is warm, it can be a spark or a flame, it can burn houses down or light them up.

water is fluid, it flows or bends to fit in any container, it cleanses you but also rains on you.

earth is solid, you sow seeds into it and with time it gives you results, it gives you ground to walk on.

air is everywhere, sometimes it’s the wind that blows heavily or the slight breeze that cools you down, it comes and goes.

fire signs: aries, leo, sagittarius

earth signs: taurus, virgo, capricorn

air signs: gemini, libra, aquarius

water signs: cancer, scorpio, pisces

modes of signs:

cardinal- leadership, initiative, charge

fixed- routines, stable, stubborn

mutable- adaptive, curious, dual

cardinal signs: aries, cancer, libra, capricorn

fixed signs: taurus, leo, scorpio, aquarius

mutable signs: gemini, virgo, sagittarius, pisces

The Houses: Part 1- Angular Houses:

(a/n- there are different house systems in astrology (whole sign, placidus, etc. we will get into those later). currently we will be talking about the significance of houses and the energies the planets dispose to them)

for these next examples i will be using whole sign:

remember when we talked about the rising sign or the ascendant? in astrology that will be your first house- AC, the sign opposite to it will be your 7th house or your descendant- DC, the 4th house is your imum coeli and the 10th house is your medium coeli/midheaven

imagine that the house system is a story unfolding within yourself, coming into full circle, this is how it starts:

1st house- your disposition, how you are seen, the start of your being, appearance

2nd house- your face, self esteem, your possessions, your hidden talents

3rd house- your siblings, communication, learning styles, short term travel or short distance travel

4th house- the deepest part of your chart, your home life, sensitivities, what is familiar to you, nurture and mother

5th house- your childhood, creativity, inner child, playfulness, ego, self, romance

6th house- your routines, work environment, work ethic, surroundings, cleanliness, health

7th house- shadow self, how you are when you get comfortable with people, what you seek and how you behave with partners/ people.

8th house- deeper levels of intimacy, your secrets and desires, the transformations you go through in life, shared wealth

9th house- seeking higher knowledge, higher education, spirituality, philosophy, government, law, travel

10th house- career, public image, professional environment, fame, the highest point of ur chart

11th house- working together, collective revolution, social organizations, friendships

12th house- subconscious pain, esoteric experiences, spirituality, sleep, dreams, escapism

Putting it All Together:

what happens when you first enter someone’s home? it’s different. not what you are used to. sometimes it can seem familiar.

that’s how the planets work in the different houses.

reader, you have an understand of the 12 zodiac signs, the planets and the 12 houses. now it’s time to put it all together.

here is an exercise for you.

take any planet- for example, mars. think of what it stands for.

now think of all the twelve zodiac signs, imagine how they would act according to the action of the planet. how would the dreamy pisces behave in mars? or the balanced libra? it must be easy for the fiery aries, right?

now, imagine those planets in the houses. the fiery aries mars but it’s in the homely 4th house, the compromising libra mars but she is careful with her public image, since she resides in the 10th house

what about the emotional cancer? how does she love? and if her love is in the 9th house is it emotional bonding through spiritual healing?

congrats, you have learnt the first few steps of intuitively reading a chart. you will get the hang of it!

i suggest reading blogs and posts like “venus in the houses” “pluto in the signs” or even the astro notes/observations here in the community. now that you have a basic understanding, you can further extend your knowledge!

good luck on ur reader journey, see u soon! 🤍

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ironmyrmidon · 4 months ago

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People are quick to point out that Dungeons and Dragons is designed for dungeon crawler adventures and a lot of the problems players experience come from trying to use the system for things it wasn't designed for. We've all read a hundred think pieces about how it's bad actually that DnD has rules that most players ignore and how there's a lot of unnecessary complexity. Everyone knows that the game is awkwardly trapped between a style of fantasy steeped in mid 20th Century ideas about race and a desire to make the game as inclusive as possible.

But for some reason, I'm the only person here willing to point out the biggest and most obvious flaw with Dungeons and Dragons! Everyone else is too scared to say it, so I guess I will have to be the one to point it out!

The cramped dungeon environment is a really bad fit for dragons. The ability to take to the wing is an important aspect of dragons, both strategically as a game element and mythologically as a representation of unconstrained power. If you put a dragon inside of a dungeon, you are severely limiting the dragons ability to control the pace and shape of the battle. The ability to make tactical fly-by strikes and disrupt their enemies, both with blasts of fire breath and by snatching specific targets and moving them away from their defensive positions, are incredibly important for making dragons complex, engaging, and terrifying foes.

Fighting a dragon inside the dungeon does make sense for a group of level 1 noobs fighting their first white dragon hatchling. You don't want those players feeling overwhelmed, so limiting what the dragon can do makes for a better encounter. However, once your players are familiar with the game, take that adult red dragon and put it outside! The dragon will be able to take full advantage of its more unique abilities and your players will feel challenged to come up with clever solutions to limit the dragon's abilities and turn the tides of battle in their favor. Having to constrain and ground the dragon and then fighting the beast head-on creates a satisfying flow to combat, where the players' actions can significantly impact the battle beyond just reducing the enemy's hit points.

#dungeons and dragons #dnd #dragon #strategy #encounter design #adventure design

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venusiastro · 1 year ago

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This years numerological number is 8 ruled by Saturn. Here are some insights I’ve uncovered recently in studying this years number.

There is an inherent need to both break and be bound by some structure. Foundations are being rebuilt after last years rift in reality. Jarring us awake to the illusions we’ve been bound by. There is a seemingly grounded quality to world views this year. People are tired of the fake and unrealistic attainments. The striving for simplicity and contentment is amplified and all those considered “subordinate” in social structures are leveled and demoted to just apart of the collective. However because Saturn is challenge and the numerological 8 is about karma we can expect to see quicker karmic cycles and retaliation to wrongs. There is less grace and more accountability being pushed. Creating the new groundwork is essential. Solid routine and commitment is honored this year. It won’t be easy and will come with expected obstacles and challenges that must be faced head on.

We can expect to see a lot of “long time coming” events to unfold either slowly or suddenly. This is the year of retribution, contrite and facing adversity. Heavy handed dealings we must encounter will occur. The longer you put it off the harder the sting. Those who honestly face their challenges head on with humility will be rewarded. The birthing pains of the cyclical coming to a close is nearing until next year (2025, numerological 9) will demolish the weak foundations that are stood upon. Long term planning is essential, creating healthy and solid habits that can stand the sundering to come is crucial. Steadfastness, frugality and humility are to be rewarded this year and holding on til the new and bursting energy of numerological year 1 (2026) is pivotal.

Begin to think two years ahead this year. Plan and structure and organize your life for success to face whatever may be thrown your way. As bleak and dramatic as this may sound, it’s better to be safe and prepared than sorry.

Predictions: the rise of political issues will ensue, world issues will forefront and continue to unveil. World powers and leaders will face retribution publicly, no one is safe. Unseeming public figures will face a possible exposure that is shocking and vile. Social media usage may decrease over the course of the year. There will a rise in more sustainable brands quality over quantity. Communal living will rise. Something about watches or time keeping… (Apple Watch?) housing market will see a big shift due to communal living, marriage will spike for a short while, traditional values may rise as well.. revisiting old concepts of creating quality and craving long lasting connections.

#numerology #year 8

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frozenjokes · 1 year ago

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A Collection Of Encounters From Bloodied Waters To Murky Bogs [1/2]

this chapter of the mumbomaid au series is a lot different than the others, so please check the ao3 link for CWs

What do you like? (Not Evil)

His Makers had asked the question over dinner one night, during one of very few excursions Joel was allowed onto the mainland, heavily supervised of course. A treat for their creation, their experiment gone wrong. In Joel’s humble opinion, if you weren’t ready for your [Inexplicable Creation] to have zero moral compass and a lust for blood, then maybe you shouldn’t go about playing god, but ah well, he was here, and his Makers were still trailing after him, failing miserably to fix the mess they made.

Joel liked the mainland plenty, but there were too many people, too much noise, too much talking- god, if one more person tried to speak to him unprompted when he couldn’t retaliate- urghgrhgghggggrhghghrhh (<- the noise he would make instead until left alone). But other than that, he liked walking on ground that didn’t sink below his feet, he liked studying the parts of the city, committing them to memory, then rebuilding them below his island, terraforming the inside into a massive upside down hellscape. He liked to eat new food; anything he didn’t have to make for himself was quite the treat. Though, when he had said all these things, answering the question, that didn’t seem to be what his Makers were looking for.

“I don’t like you.” Joel had said afterwards, pushing the envelope on just how much push-back they would allow for excursions like this before sending him back to his prison. There was no point at which Joel wasn’t skating on thin ice with them, which was quite frankly unfair, since as far as they knew he hadn’t even done anything in years. Regardless. The answer was swift and cold, all five of them speaking at once.

“We know.”

They didn’t like Joel much either. Honestly, Joel wasn’t even sure why they kept him around. Well. They didn’t keep him around technically; Joel didn’t know exactly where he was from, but it certainly wasn’t some fuckass island in the middle of nowhere. Maybe it wasn’t even from Earth. Whoever his Makers were, they certainly weren’t human, and no uncanny valley disguises could hide that. Whatever. When he was first created, he caused way too many problems in the space he was allowed, and when they’d dropped him into human civilization.. Well. Given they often cited those four hours of Joel’s unfiltered access to humanity as their Greatest Mistake, you can take a guess on the kinds of things Joel got up to in his brief stint of freedom.

Still, they did not kill him. Joel didn’t understand why, especially when every time they spoke he was told he’s more trouble than he’s worth, but apparently he was worth something, or it wouldn’t make any sense to keep him.

So instead, he was bound to an island. A large piece of land with as little human interference as possible, with enough stimulation to keep Joel at least marginally enriched. Enough so that he wouldn’t be trying to kill anything and everything that crossed his path, including but not limited to his Makers. Little did they know, at least 75% of that enrichment came from scheming on how to escape. Well actually, they very much knew in the beginning, but that’s besides the point. Layers upon layers of spells and magic were dedicated to keep Joel bound to this place, to keeping his power, his control over the earth, strictly locked up. That way, Joel could do whatever he wanted within the confines of the area, and if he wrecked it, he would be the only person affected. And he had wrecked it. Multiple times in fits of great anger he had leveled the entire place, destroying everything he had built, everything he owned, centering all of his power on destroying his prison, sinking his island, but, ah..

It didn’t work. No matter how thoroughly he ripped this place to pieces, the ties keeping him bound did not come undone. Not that Joel had any reason to think they would. But in the early days, delusion was his biggest predator. And he’d pay for it too, laying in the watery wastes of a leveled home, freezing and miserable. His Makers took pity on him a few times, restoring the island to its natural state, only for Joel to wreck it the next day. Their patience with him quickly ran dry. If Joel wanted to ruin this place, then he would have to be the one to build it back up. And he did. Many times he did, and many more he destroyed it all again. Digging, clawing for anything he’d missed, for any physical traces of spellwork he could snap under his fingers.

He almost drowned several times looking for it. For sigils, boundary lines, cores- anything, until coming to the conclusion all fragile spellwork was buried deep underwater, places he would never be able to reach.

The ocean was an area of deep frustration from Joel. His brain was a catalog of ancient magic, recipes and enchantments written on the walls of his mind. But there was nothing for water. He couldn’t breathe it, couldn’t live in it- it didn’t make sense.

“You are made from earth,” his Makers had said to him when his frustrations were bared and red-hot, angry ripping like lacerations through his skin. “You have no dominion in the sea.”

His Makers didn’t smile, but Joel could feel the sneer in the words regardless, the triumphant finality of the phrase searing like the snaps of a whip at his back. You are stuck. Trapped. There’s nothing you can do.

Joel would say it had taken a while for him to accept that, but he never actually had, planning, scheming, waiting for the right series of events in which he could tear this whole place down. However, it had taken a while for him to mellow out. To come to terms with the fact that force was not the answer, not yet, and if he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life sleeping in the mud, then he had to grow up and put himself in a position where he wasn’t being supervised so closely.

Honestly, it hadn’t been difficult. His Makers were just as sick of him as he was of them, and it wasn’t like Joel could do much damage in this isolated state. Most of the time they spent supervising was just to make sure Joel didn’t accidentally kill himself, but Joel didn’t want to die, he only wanted to leave, so when he stopped wrecking the island every few days, his Makers were relieved to leave him to his own devices. And from then on, from an outsider’s point of view at least, Joel did very little. He cultivated the land into something beautiful, though it was often quite waterlogged, more swampy than anything. He built murals on cliffsides, carved figures from the rock, told stories in the landscape with painstaking detail. Sometimes he’d make miniature towns referencing the little of the world he’d gotten to see, then destroy it all to spite his Makers, who seemed to love his work. They had firm schedules with him; what days of the month they were visiting and what they would all be doing and for how much time. Always prompt, always rigid. In other words, deadlines to finish his latest projects, so they could blow up in the faces of his Makers’ praise.

“This is what you were meant to do,” they would say to him, bright eyed even as the dust of destroyed artwork still billowed into the sky. Nonsense. He would do whatever he pleased.

It had been a long time actually, since he’d last destroyed his art. Years, even, to the point where he was running out of space to create (though, he had plenty underground, underwater, but as far as his Makers knew, that was a place he could not reach). But it wasn’t for them. Never for them.

He just.. had someone else now. Someone who enjoyed his work, who liked to critique and contribute, who would be sad to see it all go. Not that he cared how Etho felt, it was Joel’s damn island, and he could do whatever he wanted with it, but Etho was lucky, because Joel just so happened to like his ideas.

Etho. Yes. His loophole.

Years and years and years spent studying the spells that bound him to this place, chipping away at their weaknesses, finally paid off when Etho washed up at his rocky shores, practically skewered on the sharp rocks that had taken so many ships in years before. That’s why Joel was out in the storm in the first place; waiting, longing for a stray ship blown away by violent winds and currents, smashing against the treacherous rocks, doomed by an island that did not show on their maps. The survivors would crawl upon his beaches, trapped, and Joel would leave them to panic over the sick and injured, before one by one, he’d hunt them for sport. Pick apart their bodies, string them up by open rib cages for his Makers to see on their next visit. He’d serve his Makers human flesh and blood, he’d spit it all in their faces, and then they would leave him, firmly reminded of the monster they’d created.

But he hadn’t killed Etho. No, mermaids were even rarer than ships; in fact, Joel had only ever seen one before Etho, washing up on his shores long dead. Etho was still alive, just barely, but Joel had saved him, stitched him up with dirt and vine until he could drag the barely breathing body home. Maim the both of their souls, bind them, rip his own freedom right out of Etho’s chest.

Joel made a pendant, something he could manipulate with little force, the inherent power of their combined souls enough of a catalyst to funnel his control. To switch places. To switch species.

If Joel was a mermaid, there would be nothing stopping him from digging, searching, discovering the physical sources of his entrapment and crushing it under webbed fingers. ‘No dominion over the sea-‘ please. Joel could take whatever the hell he wanted.

And he did find it. Deep under the water, then buried further, the massive lines drawn under the surface. Leaving the designated area would not kill him, no, and he could even stray briefly, but soon enough, his insides would come to a boil, his skin beginning to melt from his bones, just as gruesome and agonizing as it sounded. Joel wasn’t actually sure if any of the horror he experienced was actually real- it didn’t kill him after all, and he had tested those limits thoroughly, but that didn’t really matter. It felt real. It scared him enough to stay put. And now, beneath his hands, he had the power to destroy it.

He didn’t though. Breaking the sigil would only alert his Makers to his attempt at freedom, and he wasn’t ready. There were still so many spells, so many layers- escaping in body was a massive piece of the puzzle, but there was still the catalyst of his power, torn out of him just like a soul. It could not be destroyed, or even separated from Joel for too long; it was his life as well as his magic, the great power that had made it possible to create him in the first place. He would wither without it, almost certainly, and regardless, he was hardly more than human in its absence. Truly, he’d rather be stuck here for the rest of his life with magic then live freely without.

So in short, he needed it. And he wasn’t dumb enough to make a move without it either.

Returning to the surface in his new body, lost in his own scheme, Joel was reminded of the newly made human he’d left, healed and conscious and very afraid. That would be a problem, wouldn’t it. He couldn’t keep this form without a living Other. His Other. In Joel’s rush of adrenaline, he hadn’t thought about that; what he’d do with the leftover body. He hadn’t thought about it before then either, his sole focus on taking the water into his own hands, swimming deep and breathing salt. But this was his responsibility now, wasn’t it? Any mistreatment of the mermaid (now human) would be reflected back on his own skin.

Alright. Joel could do that. (In the beginning weeks, Joel was very much doubting he could do it.)

The transition was.. rough. Joel named him Etho, and this Etho was not the least bit cooperative or even grateful to Joel for saving his life. Communication was a certified nightmare, even with the spells Joel spun to help them understand each other. Etho nearly starved to death when Joel refused to let him eat raw fish, and when his Makers came to visit on one of their scheduled days, Etho attempted to run (swim?) away the second he regained his fins, Joel just barely able to catch him in a fist of earth before Etho went beyond his reach. That was a bad day. Struggling to focus on keeping Etho trapped while humoring his Makers, tasting dirt and starting to suffocate whenever he lost his focus for too long.

Joel didn’t.. he wasn’t the kind of person that had regrets, alright? Not pertaining to other people, certainly not. But he was not proud of what he did that night after his Makers had left him, dragging Etho back by the tail and shedding his blood at the cost of Joel’s own until he hardly had the strength to heal them both. If given the choice, he would not do it again.

Etho did not try to escape a second time.

But after that hiccup, things started to improve. Joel did a lot of experimenting, a lot of limit pushing, his greatest discovery coming when he ventured outside of his sigil with fins and gills, hoping for a short foraging trip that turned much longer when he realized there was no burn. No melting skin. No pain. Joel didn’t come home for days. He didn’t even remember what he did besides swim and catch fish and swim and swim really far away, but he wasn’t even thinking about why, because none of it mattered! He was free. And he didn’t even need to break the sigil to leave.

Now, he knew at this point in theory that he needed his catalyst, his magic, to survive, but he only knew in practice when his existence began to wither away, first just particles no bigger than dry skin floating off into the water, then his scales growing brittle and cracked, his fins splitting until he trailed blood wherever he went. Getting back to the island was a stressful couple of hours. But he made it, of course. Basking in those waters had never felt so beautiful.

From there, the whole ‘soulbound’ thing got a lot more exciting. Joel wanted to know every limit he could push and why; how this bond he’d tied worked in its completion and the holes he’d poked in his Makers’ spells because of it. Excitement pushed him to do the same thing as before, but in his human form, and the result was the same- he was free. That is, until he started melting a couple hours later. Apparently, species had everything to do with this, somehow. Odd loophole? Regardless, that was a bad trip home; mistaken in his freedom, Joel had traveled much further than he probably should have. Must have been a crazy hour for Etho too, whew. Joel may have failed to warn him of that possibility.. whatever, he was fine.

Speaking of Etho, the following weeks saw a vast improvement to their communication! Once he stopped being a total Debby Downer about his new life, Etho was a curious kind of guy, eager to know and learn. He was interested in the limit testing as well, anxious to know if he could leave the island for long periods of time, and it turned out he could in both his human and mermaid form. Joel was genuinely shocked by that, quite confused about how this spell worked now, but Etho didn’t question anything, simply relieved for whatever reason, as if he’d ever need to leave. Etho wanted to learn English as well, he really wanted to learn English, and while Joel didn’t particularly see a point when translation between them worked well enough with the aid of magic, he had time to kill. That is, until he discovered teaching was frustrating and Etho sucked, so all in all, they did not make much headway in that department, though, Etho was clever, and picked up quite a bit through insisting Joel speak to him in English most of the time. He asked questions like a motherfucker, but it wasn’t that big of a deal in the end. It was honestly a miracle they kind of got along in the first place, and Joel was sure whatever grievances Etho had with him were quite a bit worse than ‘talks too much.’

Actually, during this exercise in Having Company For The First Time In His Life That Wasn’t His Makers Who He Hated, Joel discovered he quite liked talking. In fact, he liked talking a lot more than Etho did, telling Etho of his escapades, his art, his past crimes against humanity, his plans for future crimes against humanity- everything. Joel had so much to speak about, so much he never even realized he’d longed to share. And Etho listened, he asked questions (mostly stuff like ‘what does murder mean’ and ‘do humans not cannibalize each other sometimes,’ but still), he was so engaged! He didn’t want to participate in the games when the next ship crashed at Joel’s shores two months later, but that wasn’t much of a bother. Hunting as a mermaid was very exciting, and Joel took quite a bit of joy in feeling truly like a swamp monster. Etho thought hanging the bodies up like that was distasteful, but when Joel had told him it was only for his Makers to see, Etho hadn’t pushed. Etho never wanted to ask about his Makers, which was good, because Joel didn’t want to speak about them.

And his art. Etho loved his art. Now, Etho did not use words like ‘love’ or any other words of praise, but sometimes Joel would catch him staring at a mural or a carving, or even the statuettes Joel made from time to time. On month six, nearly the anniversary of their meeting (not that Joel was keeping track), Etho had been particularly entranced with a mural Joel was working on, the flats of rocks sticking out of the cliffside like tiles, painting a picture of the sea. When Joel had approached him down the channel, still preferring to traverse the world in his mermaid form whenever possible, Etho had spoken about it for the first time.

“Do you like color?” he had said in his limited English. The mural had no color; they typically never did. Joel had access to naturally colored rock, but those were typically harder to get his hands on, and he often found he could tell the stories he wanted perfectly fine in shades of gray.

“It is hard to have,” Joel had responded simply, “Bad to get.”

“I found [some]. At [the] beach. I think..” Etho didn’t seem to have the words, so he walked confidently toward the piece, and Joel noticed a small bag at his side for the first time. Without a thought and entirely without asking, Etho started to mess with a school of fish in one of the corners, plucking out the fish tiles and systematically replacing them with the red rock he had found at the beach. Joel had only been able to watch in utter bafflement as Etho messed with his work- seriously! The nerve on that guy! But when Etho had turned around, he hadn’t looked the slightest bit deterred by Joel’s expression.

“Need [a] word,” he said, running his fingers over the tile, then over his own rocks, “This versus this. Adjective.” Etho did the motion again, expectant.

“Smooth versus rough,” Joel told him in time with the movement.

“Repeat.”

“Smooth versus rough.”

“Make [mine] smooth.”

At this point, Joel gave up on trying to tell Etho with his face that he was not happy, because clearly Etho didn’t care. Whatever. Sure. I’ll make your dumb rocks smooth. Joel brought his hands to the dirt, easier for channeling precise work, and cut Etho’s red rocks cleanly through the middle so he could use the other pieces as well. A little flashy, not how Joel typically operated, but the thrilled look on Etho’s face was entirely what he was aiming to see.

It seemed a fire had been lit in Etho, and he began replacing the other sea creature with colored pieces, Joel making sure the other knew how entirely exasperated he was by sighing loudly and flicking his fins, none of which Etho paid any attention to. But he still cut the rock to match in texture, locking the stones in place so they wouldn’t fall as Etho fiddled with them, and after about an hour, all Etho’s color had been meticulously placed, not nearly enough to get to every animal, but enough for the proof of concept.

“It’s better,” Etho had said when he took a step away. Joel would have loved to snap back, to criticize it, to call him too blind to actually know, but, well.. it was better. It was pretty damn cool, actually. Etho had a good eye for contrast.

“It’s fine. I’ll mess with it. But you’d better be prepared to gather all this yourself, because if you can’t keep up, it’s getting scrapped. Good luck with the green, god damn. You’re never going to finish that turtle with those little pebbles.”

“Translate.” Joel did so, and Etho looked deeply pleased. “I will.”

After that, things were nearly always well. Etho liked to contribute to Joel’s projects, and Joel liked to work with him. Months passed like this, a quieter peace. Joel thought less and less about escape as months turned to a full year, his secret mermaid giving so much of the freedom he longed for, as well as.. a friend. How silly of a thing that was. If you had told Joel years ago that he would value the company of another person, Joel would have laughed in your face, and then probably smashed you to bits under a rock or something.

But he.. he loved- no. He really. Really liked Etho. He really liked Etho. And Etho liked him too! They liked working together, drawing out concepts for future projects, and when Joel began his foray into the underwater spaces of the island, mapping them for future plans, the two of them would take turns diving inside, and Etho was an excellent second opinion. The things they created together.. Joel valued them more than anything he’d ever made before.

That is, until Joel found out that Etho didn’t like him very much at all, actually.

One year, four and a quarter months. It was a sudden revelation, spoken like it was nothing at all. Etho had mentioned offhandedly that he wanted to see what life on the mainland was like, that he thought he might be ready for an excursion of that caliber. He’d spent quite a bit of time at the surface before the soulbind, he was intrigued by humanity, and he wanted to see it for himself. He knew enough English to get by, and wanted to know what was out there.

“Why?” Joel had asked, and he remembered the edge to the question. It was an annoying idea, one Joel hadn’t ever considered Etho asking.

“I said why.” Etho told him bluntly, not even looking up.

“You have everything you need here. It’s dangerous out there, just as much for people as it is for mermaids. There isn’t much on the mainland anyway, nothing you’d like.”

“You talk about it fondly. I’d like to see it.” Etho frowned momentarily, snapping his fingers to warm them up, a silent indication that Joel needed to ready himself to translate. ‘Seems like the main danger to humans are people like you, and after all this time, I’d say I’m an alright judge of character. I want to know what humans are really like. You tell me all sorts of stories, but I don’t believe you actually know.’

“Of course I know.”

Etho narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, an expression Joel hated, an expression that made him feel too vulnerable, too seen. Etho lifted his chin, “You want me to stay.”

“I- yes, I’d like that,” annoyance prickled the edges of Joel’s tone, a defensive anger locked and loaded.

“You like me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I thought so,” Etho said simply, his expression unchanging. Even after all this time, he still hadn’t picked up that human mannerism, every twitch and change in his face entirely biological, entirely unconscious. Etho met Joel’s eyes evenly before whistling again, snapping in time, ‘Then we’re on the same page.’

Joel hadn’t been ready for that. “What?” he said stupidly, and Etho might have smiled. Barely there, completely without thought. That was worse.

“You like me,” Etho said.

“I don’t,” Joel replied, just as curtly. Etho was not convinced.

“You do.”

“I might. What of it?”

“You want me to like you.”

“You do like me.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t like you, Joel. I never have. I never will.” Etho closed his eyes, breathing agonizingly deeply, “Wow.”

“You can not just ‘wow’ me, Etho, use your damn words.”

“I don’t think you want that.”

“I do.”

“Fine,” Etho snapped his fingers a few times, and Joel braced himself, ‘You are foul. Selfish. Cruel. You treat me with less respect than the dirt under your fingers, but maybe that’s an unfair comparison, because you actually like the earth. I’m not a person to you. I’m a tool, and you wouldn’t dream of letting me think otherwise. The worst part is, I don’t even think you know. I don’t think you have any idea. That’s how little I mean to you; your behavior is so second-nature that I bet if I asked, you wouldn’t be able to name a single way in which you’ve slighted me in the past week. So yes. Wow,’ Etho raised his hands in a lazy gesture of sarcastic awe, ‘Wow, because I never thought you’d be bold enough to ask me to stay. Wow, because it never occurred to me you didn’t know how I felt, or that you could form attachments to people in the first place. Wow, because I never thought I’d get the chance to hurt you. So there we have it. I hope it cuts deep.’

Joel burned under his skin, thoughts racing too fast to pick one out and spit the words at Etho’s feet. “So that’s it?” he found himself saying instead, voice far more even than the shrieking in his head, “You just want to hurt me.”

“More than anything.” Etho’s glare was like daggers, a challenge, never wavering, “So, Joel. Can I go?”

Joel flipped his pendant, initiating the change without another word, “Better hurry. Mainland is west.” And Etho nodded, making his way toward the little cottage where they both lived. Together. Not anymore.

Not an hour passed before Joel had leveled the entire island. All of it, above and below, stomping the land into dust until he was up to his neck in the water, until there was nowhere left to stand, until his arms and legs refused to swim any longer. He didn’t remember being lifted from the sea. He wasn’t even sure how his Makers knew he was in trouble- could they sense the state of the island? His distress? Maybe it was simply intuition that had saved him from a miserable drowning death, so focused on ripping his world apart, he hadn’t even realized the water was over his head.

He remembered being limp in five sets of hands, refusing to open his eyes. Refusing to stand, to speak. Maybe it felt like companionship to be held. He didn’t remember much else; they must have set him to sleep, their miserable creation that they did not love.

His Makers must have known something was wrong. It had been many years, six maybe, since Joel had destroyed the island so completely, so violently, to the point of nearly killing himself in the process. He woke up the next day in a bed, to a restored world, to a gentle breeze through the open window. He did not move. He did not speak. His Makers did not know what to do with that; this had never been a problem before. Their creation was brash and violent and angry, it was never sad. And yet. And yet. He sensed excitement from the voices out his window, his Makers, delighting in the newness of the feeling. The evolution of his character.

‘He’s changing.’

‘He’s developing new ranges of emotion.’

‘What do you think happened?’

‘How can we recreate this?’

‘How can we ensure this continues?’

He heard it. All of it. Not that his Makers tried to hide their curiosity. They frenzied like sharks at his bed, asking questions he refused to answer, offering food and drink he refused to eat. They offered to take him to the mainland, cheer him up, and Joel had screamed at them to get out. They did. Then returned the next day. Their speculation circled around Joel keeping some sort of secret pet, finding attachment to one of the animals in the swamp, and that it had died recently, sending him into this state of mourning. They speculated his depression was so intense because he’d simply never felt it before. Maybe they were right. On both counts. His Makers offered him new ‘pets’ from frogs to alligators, all of which he promptly killed if not stopped, and for the most part, he was not. From this, they came to the conclusion he was simply too sensitive to accept a new creature into his life.

But the worst. The worst.

A storm, one night. The type of wind and pelting rain that drove mist off the ocean, that would typically get Joel so excited. Standing out by the shore, listening for the telltale crack of a wayward ship against the rocks..

He hadn’t gone. He hadn’t left the house in days. But a cheeky nudge and a grin too wide told him exactly what his Makers had staged that night, either manipulating an actual ship to crash, or just zapping a couple of unfortunate souls right from the mainland to this cursed place.

They wanted to know what he’d do. They wanted to know if he’d grown morals, if he’d spare them. An experiment. Once again, as clear as day, he was reminded exactly what he was to his Makers. Fine then. He’d show them just how much he’d grown.

So Joel made tea. He let his Makers watch him, paying them no mind. He sat as if he was alone, ate a small breakfast, and closed his eyes. He took his time.

Joel was not the kind of person who played with his food. He did not draw out pain when it wasn’t needed, more interested in the adrenaline of a chase than a scream. But today wasn’t about him, was it? Today, he had an audience. He dressed in his best clothes. He walked to the beach. And methodically, he ate each one of them alive. No need for gratuitous detail. But each of the three felt his teeth before they passed, not by his hand of course, but once his Makers had seen enough. They got their answer. They left him for the day when he began to dance with the corpses, singing, screaming his loathing for the entire world to hear. And then his Makers were gone, the act was dropped, and Joel returned to his room. He did not change out of his clothes.

The same night, he woke up with a gasp, something distinctly sharp set with ripe intention at the base of his thigh. For a moment, Joel thought he’d done something- pulled a muscle or maybe cut himself, but just as he was removing his pants to check, a real line was cut, the knife piercing harshly, as if it had been met by resistance and rubberbanded past it. It didn’t hurt at first, at least not as much as his shoulders, fuck, his arms, something was seriously wrong with his arms, like if they bent any further, they’d snap entirely-

And then his skin started to peel. The pain he felt seemed deeper than what was happening to his own body; the cut was so sharp, so precise, only the knicks where his scales connected were bleeding- ah.

Sleep did not leave him stupid for long.

He grabbed only a robe as he ran out the door, thinking immediately to change, to make Etho human and make whatever they were doing stop, but Etho would need water, which he almost certainly didn’t have. Etho would also need time, and neither of them had that either- How in the hell was Joel supposed to reach him? He couldn’t just teleport off the island like his Makers, he couldn’t teleport at all! ‘No dominion over time and space,’ WHATEVER.

He did have a boat. It was for fishing close to the island, it even had a motor, but that wouldn’t be fast enough, not nearly. However, he didn’t ever use a boat to traverse the water, did he? He simply brought land with him to walk on top of it, far less of a hassle than a boat, but his magic didn’t extend nearly far enough from the island to just walk there. But maybe, maybe, with a combination of magic and his boat for the rest of the journey..

If Joel had the luxury of more time to consider what he was about to do, then he may have tried a different plan, but he didn’t have time, did he, so rocketing himself across the ocean in a tiny fishing dinghy was his best option. At the very least he wasn’t thinking about his skin being methodically peeled off when he was launching himself as fast as his magic would carry him toward the mainland, fearing for his life for a second reason tonight and nearly passing out from the intensity of the acceleration (and therefore being flung into the ocean and subsequently drowning), but as his magic grew weaker, so did the speed of his vessel. The deceleration was just as terrifying as it was a relief, however, Joel wasted no time starting his motor.

It wasn’t fast enough. Thirty minutes passed before Joel even saw land, and even by then his legs were a horribly bloody mess, though Joel was unable to tell how much skin had been stripped away. He just had to hope whoever had done this wouldn’t end it before he arrived, but if they had kept Etho alive this long, it must be on purpose. Maybe it was the English.. Maybe Etho had convinced them, or maybe they were too intrigued to let him die. Even with all of Joel’s magic gone, the pendant at his chest, the tiny catalyst was still enough to draw that line between him and his soulbound, to tell Joel exactly where Etho was being kept.

He closed in on a small dock housing several boats with an attached market, no longer open for business at this time of night. Not a worry. Charged by his island catalyst, strength was among many of his born talents. Joel’s dinghy crashed into an empty spot on the dock, surely damaging the boat and definitely damaging the security of the deck, but Joel cared very little, stepping out from where his boat was lodged between posts.

He kicked the long glass window in with bare feet, uncaring as alarms blared, lighting his face in a harsh red. He did not speak to the man who ran up from what must have been basement stairs with a pistol, but Joel must have been a sight, long dark hair, bloodied shirt, open robe doing nothing to hide his raw, bleeding legs. The stranger hesitated for far too long, missing his shot when Joel lunged for his throat. Joel only took the pistol, leaving the damn bastard to choke on his own blood. The other he caught in the face as she ran up the stairs, emptying the pistol into her chest and stomach, then stepping over her on his way down.

Joel did not have to call Etho’s name. He was right around the corner, laid out on a tarp and sobbing without sound; Joel knew the hitched heaving of a chest well enough. His arms were tied at the wrist, bent horribly behind his back, so Joel undid those binds first, the relief in his own aching arms immediate. Etho’s face was covered in some sort of cage, probably to protect from biting. It looked like it was locked by a key.. well, Joel didn’t have time to look for that. There was.. nothing he could do about Etho’s tail for now. At the very least, the scum that did this cut around the fins, keeping them mostly intact. Suddenly, the fronts of Joel’s legs bleeding harder made sense as mirrored by Etho’s injuries. No matter.

“I’m going to have to hold you by the base of your tail. I won’t be able to get you up by just your chest.”

“No- Joel, no. Don’t touch it. Don’t touch me.”

“Trust me, I don’t want to,” Joel huffed, eying the tarp intently now. That would be better, surely. Still, Etho resisted as Joel wrapped him completely, snapping in what Joel was pretty sure was a blind attempt at biting, and suddenly he was a bit more grateful for the cage across Etho’s face. It fucking hurt as Joel lifted him, both of them making some sort of strangled gasp, but this had to have been better than skin against raw skin, so Joel made his way up the stairs, hoping to get out of here before any law enforcement arrived.

“Wait,” Etho hissed, apparently not sharing the same sentiment, “Go back. Go back.”

“What? No!”

“Go back. My scales. You need to get them. Please. Please get them.”

“I’m not getting your bloody scales! What are you, insane? We need to go.” Joel snarled, but Etho was insistent, breaking his arms free from their loose cage to snatch at Joel’s shirt.

“They can’t have them.”

“The humans that did this are dead.”

“Another will find them. Take them. Sell them. Joel. They’re mine.”

“For goodness fuckin’ sakes Etho, I’ll get you damn scales, just stop yapping about it,” Joel turned, unsure even as he moved why. This was a waste of time. In fact, the more time they spent here, the more both of their lives were endangered. But there was something about the way Etho relaxed in his arms, even despite the pain. The way his breathing slowed, just slightly. Joel did not care to linger. It didn’t take long to find the scales, cut in one piece and drying in a back room, and Joel was back up the stairs in record time, hopping out the same window he’d busted through to get inside. It couldn’t have been more than five or ten minutes that had passed, but that was already too much time. There was no way they’d get far enough away, not in Joel’s dinky little boat.

Thankfully, Etho seemed to be a little more time cognisant now, eying the dinghy just as unhappily as Joel felt as he struggled to pull it from where it was stuck with his foot (to little success).

“Put me in the water. I’ll push far enough.”

Joel was happy to obey the first part of that request, struggling enough as it was with his arms so full, but by the time he was saying, “Wait, Etho, you can’t swim,” Etho’s raw skin already hit the cold water, pushing a barely restrained yell from Joel’s throat, while bubbles rose from the water where Etho was let go. Joel grit his teeth as Etho dislodged the dinghy, throwing the rest of his things into the bowl, then stepping inside himself. But before Joel could argue again, sirens blared in the distance, and Etho kicked off, taking the both of them as fast as he could manage to swim. Which is to say, quite fast.

Even injured, exhausted, and likely a little bit traumatized, Etho kept up the pace for a long while. He stayed submerged for the most part, which was probably for the best; Joel didn’t particularly want to speak with him and he was sure the feeling was mutual. But the cold water on Etho’s tail made everything feel a little better, his own legs stinging less than before, though everything was still so raw, and sitting without adrenaline to distract him from the pain was a certified nightmare.

Once land was out of sight, Etho did slow down, the boat now drifting as he took a chance to rest. That was fine. He deserved it.

Joel sighed, long and deep with his whole chest. “Let’s switch. You can sleep in the boat, and I’ll take us the rest of the way back. It’s a calm night, so might be forty-five minutes until I’m close enough to use my magic. It’ll be easier after that. Can’t heal us ‘til I get back home though, I need more supplies.”

Etho whistled something from under the water, but Joel didn’t catch the meaning. Too fast, too much to process, and he cared very little to learn much of the mermaid language (though after tonight, Joel could certainly see that changing). Given the lower pitches of the notes though, Joel got a reasonable enough idea the words aired on the more negative side of things.

“I can’t translate now. Surface if you want to speak to me.” Part of Joel tried to correct for the edge in his tone, but the more overwhelming part of him did not care to be civil.

Etho did so, releasing the dinghy to swim alongside it. “Stupid idea.”

Joel huffed, crossing his arms (both of them wincing at the soreness), “Is it, then? Tell me more.”

“How do you think I’m supposed to get inside without..” Etho trailed off, lacking the words, so instead he resubmerged, shaking the boat violently back and forth and nearly throwing Joel from his seat.

“Okay! Okay! I get it, cut it out!”

Etho resurfaced, probably looking smug if Joel had to guess, even despite the fresh sting in both of their lower halves, “Do you know? It would hurt like..” Etho stopped, whistling a long string of words that Joel did not understand, but the meaning came through all the same.

“Bad idea then! Sorry.” Joel scoffed, drawing into himself, but Etho jolted, hitting his head on the rim of the boat.

“Sorry? Sorry?”

“What?” Joel snapped, losing his patience, but there was something teasing in Etho’s eyes, the fins at the side of his head waving in what was probably amusement.

“Never heard you [say that] before. Not after you taught the word.”

“Well don’t get used to it. That was sarcasm anyway, I don’t do remorse. Can’t believe you even remember what that means, ugh. You weren’t waiting for an apology, were you? You’re not getting one. I’m not sorry. Stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you. I know you.”

Joel jumped his seat, hissing at the sharp pain that followed the movement, but more alarmed by the words. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not sorry.”

“I know that!”

“I know it [too].”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know.”

“You don’t!”

Etho made some sort of face, like he was attempting to copy one of Joel’s many expressions of exasperation, but it didn’t quite look right, especially not on a mermaid’s face with no visible pupils and no eyebrows. Joel got a better idea when Etho dove back under the water, splashing pointedly (which fucking hurt), then whistling a string of words which Joel could very easily imagine being some sort of long winded complaint or insult. Whatever. Etho could think whatever he wanted (as long as it wasn’t thinking Joel felt any sort of remorse for any of his actions).

Things were.. Things were different between them after that. The entire next week Etho needed to be hidden away out of Joel’s great fear his Makers would somehow find him (they’d brought humans here, what would they do if they found a mermaid? What if they got the wrong message when Joel wouldn’t hurt him?) Even after it was safe for them to switch again, in his human form, Etho would never leave his room, locking himself inside nearly the entire day, any of his good humor suddenly vanished. Despite the night of The Incident being unpleasant, Etho hadn’t seemed particularly upset on the swim back, so after they were both healed and everything was back to normal, Joel had kind of just expected him to be.. fine? The contrast between Etho’s behavior was confusing, and honestly, quite frustrating at times. Etho did not want to talk. He did not want to be seen. He hardly even wanted to eat together.

And even to this day, years and years later, Joel had never asked how it happened. How Etho had gotten caught, how he’d been overpowered. Etho wasn’t stupid, far from it, and Joel knew him to be the careful sort, overly cautious. But Etho never seemed to want to speak about it, and Joel was too intimidated to ask.

Etho had only ever brought it up once, a month after the event occurred, when Joel was pretty sure Etho was never leaving their little cottage again.

Etho had approached him at one of the inland banks where Joel was working on carving a grand replica city into the side of a mountainous hill. It was certainly one of his bigger projects, each skyscraper getting special detail and attention while hardly taking up much more space than the length of his arm, but that was part of the fun. Joel liked imagining cities, he liked building them.

“Can you make fire.” The words weren’t phrased like a question.

Joel had jumped at the sound, surprise replaced by alarm when he turned around to see Etho holding the long mermaid scale skin, folded neatly in his arms. Joel had been flustered, tripping over his words like a complete idiot as he parroted the words he’d been told many times before, “I have no dominion in the sky.”

“What.”

“It’s- The sky makes fire. Lightning, heat, stars. That’s not me. I mean, there’s fire in the earth, but that’s deep, though, I guess there is a volcano nearby, but it’s been dormant for a while. Doesn’t mean I can’t pull magma from its depths, but I’d have to get pretty deep, and honestly, I don’t know if it wouldn’t cool before I made it to the surface.”

“You can rub sticks.”

“I can- what?”

“Everything [is] wet, but you can rub sticks. I can’t rub them good enough.”

“Stop saying that, it sounds weird.”

“You can rub sticks.”

“Sure! Yes! How does that make fire?”

“I’ve watched humans do it. They make-“ Etho frowned “-Pre-fire. You can do it faster.”

“Sparks? Smoke?”

“I don’t know. Pre-fire. Doesn’t matter. I want to kill my skin.” Etho held out his scales, gently pearlescent in the sun.

“Ah. I see. Kill with fire is ‘burn.’ You want to burn your scales.”

“Yes. Make a fire.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. I need it.”

There was a bit more back and forth between them before Joel allowed himself to be pulled away from his sculpting, but the annoyance was quickly replaced with a deeper excitement; Etho! Etho was here, and they were going to hang out, and it was going to be great!

Fire making turned out to be a horrible activity.

It was slow and frustrating and Joel had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. Etho had quite a bit to say, said in that carelessly blunt Etho way that drove Joel crazy sometimes, today being no exception. ‘Smaller sticks, Joel.’ ‘Might work better if the sticks aren’t alive, Joel.’ Joel couldn’t stop snapping the flimsy things Etho picked out for him, and both of them were getting pissy about it, Etho demonstrating how he ought to be rubbing the sticks together while Joel snatched them away with hands of earth, snapping them over his knee out of spite.

They did not end up making fire that day. Or the next. The third, Etho spent the day sulking in his room, but Joel was still thinking about it, about fire, and he tried by himself a couple times, imagining how impressed Etho would be with him once he succeeded, but alas.. that did not happen. They had to be missing something- surely humans didn’t just stand around rubbing sticks together for hours, there had to be a better way.

The fourth day, his Makers visited, so Etho had to leave. But Joel hadn’t stopped thinking about fire. He tried to ask them about it, how he could make it without magic, but this seemed to be an alarming question coming from him, which, maybe that was fair. But despite their hesitation, Joel still pushed, making up excuses for the night, wanting warmth, wanting light. His Makers did not believe him, not even a little bit, but regardless, with extensive Joel-proofing his request was granted; a small fire that could not spread, lighting itself when the sun set and extinguishing in the morning. Perfect. Well. He would have preferred if his Makers would have just told him how to do it himself, but this was well enough.

Etho knew when Joel’s Makers arrived and when they left, often returning sometime in the night or at least before dawn, so Joel committed himself to sitting by his new fire, hoping he’d be able to see Etho’s reaction when he came home. It was an enchanting thing, the fire. Joel had never realized how beautiful it was, how good the heat felt against his cool skin. He felt like he could sit here for hours, just watching, listening to the gentle crackle of the flames and enjoying the warmth. But he didn’t get too much time to enjoy it, distant splashing entering his periphery soon after he closed his eyes. Joel smiled absently.

“Joel?” Etho said, surprise evident, and why wouldn’t he be? Valiantly, Joel had delivered Etho his fire. Of course he was surprised, thrilled even. “What are you doing? Why are you here?”

“Waiting for you, obviously,” he grumbled, only a normal amount disappointed that Etho wasn’t celebrating the achievement of his flame.

“All night??” The alarm was enough to get Joel to open his eyes, and ah, the sky was starting to lighten, wasn’t it. Perhaps he had fallen asleep.. Hm. Couldn’t let Etho know that.

“No.” The two of them stared at each other for a moment, Etho’s bafflement just uncomfortable enough for Joel to break the silence quickly, “Well- Hurry! This goes out at dawn, so get your damn scales already.”

That seemed to snap Etho out of his stupor, the mermaid giving himself a bit of a startled look before apparently deciding not to waste anymore time. He could get in and out of the house just fine. Joel didn’t move from his place at the fire, not even looking back when the floorboards of their small porch creaked under Etho’s weight. To his credit, Etho was quick, out of the house in a flash and perching himself up beside Joel, cut scales held close to his chest. He sat there like that for a while, Joel’s anticipation beginning to make him irritable in the quiet.

“What are you waiting for? This won’t be lit for much longer,” he snapped, but Etho didn’t look very bothered.

“You’re right.” Without another word, Etho threw the scales into the flames. Joel had expected some sort of sizzle, maybe even a couple cracks, but the scales withered silently, browning at the edges and then blackening into dust, eerie in their quiet. Etho watched the fire intently, more intense of a look than Joel had ever seen from him before. And both of them stayed that way, sitting by the fire until it went out just as suddenly as it had been lit. All that was left in the pit was ashes.

Etho straightened up. “I have something. For you.” Etho bent over to pluck a small pouch off the ground that Joel hadn't noticed before, passing it by the drawstring into Joel’s hands. It was light, mostly empty, and Joel nearly dropped it when he saw what was inside. “Take one. Do with it what you will.”

“Your- Why did you keep these?”

Etho snapped his fingers, and Joel readied himself to translate. ‘Mermaid custom. We call it Tail Twining, usually reserved for when a mer takes a mate, but I will not have the opportunity to engage in this practice, nor do I particularly want to. Typically, mers will trade scales, decorate them with physical decals to make them stand out, then use a special glue to replace their lost scale with a new one from their partner. I like this practice, and while I don’t particularly like you, I appreciate how you’ve gone out of your way for me these past weeks. I do not respect you, but I don’t hate you either.’ Etho stopped for a moment, fins flicking, ‘You may not wear my scale on your tail when you have one. Otherwise, do whatever you’d like.’

“Oh.” Joel didn't know what else to say. What else was there to say? He did not particularly believe that he had gone out of his way to do anything, nor did he like the idea of that at all, but.. “My pendant. I’d like to wear it like that, stick it on there somehow.”

“Alright.”

There was a brief silence, Etho looking a little uncomfortable or maybe just bored, and Joel kinda feeling like his head was exploding. Mermaid scales weren’t fragile by any means, but Joel still sifted through the bag gently, looking for the shape that would fit best over his catalyst of twin souls.. Hm.. Joel didn’t want his Makers to see it, and he’d made this piece of jewelry from the earth anyway..

Joel started to fiddle with it, first enveloping his chosen scale entirely, encasing it in the middle of the iron, but he quickly scrapped the idea, wanting to see the scale at least a little bit. So he experimented, taking care not to warp the precious items beyond repair (and given how intently Etho was watching him, Joel was pretty sure he might be ripped to pieces if he accidentally cracked the scale). Eventually, Joel found a way he liked it, the scale indented securely in the back, safe from most eyes, but if Joel liked, he could bring his fingers to the pedant and the pad of his thumb would slot perfectly into the indentation.

“Is this okay?” Joel felt stupid the moment the question left his lips- of course it was fine, Etho had already told him it was fine, but Etho’s features only softened at the words, the strain behind his face easing.

“You understand.”

Joel didn’t get to respond, Etho turning around and swimming right away without another word, pouch of scales in hand. Joel wanted to bite back. Snap. But he didn’t really understand at all.

And another five months passed.. pleasantly. They weren’t ever really close anymore, not like Joel had thought of them in the first year. Maybe he just knew better now? Still, Joel wondered from time to time if Etho’s opinion of him ever changed or improved, but.. Joel never asked and Etho never said a word.

And then just around two total years of togetherness, of the both of them living here on Joel’s island, Etho told him once again that he was leaving.

Guess that was answer enough, wasn’t it.

Joel went with him to the mainland. He hadn’t insisted or anything, but he hadn’t needed to, because Etho had accepted him without a word.

Joel didn’t know entirely what happened the rest of that day, watching from the shore close to a main road, nor did he know for the rest of the week. He stayed as close as he dared, but Etho did not come back. He did not need help. He did not need Joel.

He wasn’t exactly how Etho managed it, but he found some of the good humans. Made friends, found a roommate of all things- it was good. From what Joel heard, it was good.

Better.

Five years that way, better. And it wasn’t that they weren’t in contact anymore; they texted all the time, communication having improved drastically when the two of them discovered phones. Hardly a week passed where Etho didn’t visit, and he’d spend a weekend some months. Joel treasured those days. But Etho didn’t really belong here, no matter how desperately Joel longed for his company some nights, sitting by the fire, staring, wishing he’d come home. Whoever made Etho did so gently, kindly. Whoever made him must have loved him very much.

Joel knew very little about how he was made. But he knew the fingers that molded him were cold and calloused, their excitement for their result overshadowing the gravity of what they were doing. Sharp fingers carved sharp edges, then reeled backwards when their creation bit back, when their creation, made in their image, was just as foul. Just as selfish. Just as cruel

‘A mistake’

‘We made a mistake with you’

‘We’re trying to figure it out’

‘We’ll make you better’

‘We’ll fix it’

No. It was too late. They couldn’t just take it back. Joel was already here. Already bad. He was made bad and he would spend the rest of his life making sure they knew it.

So.

What do you like? (Not Evil)

The question Joel hadn’t been able to answer, the question he was still thinking about tonight, sitting at his desk, pen in one hand and paper below the other. His Makers would be coming tomorrow to collect his answer.

Well. He quite liked the ocean.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #ethoslab #etho #smallishbeans #joel smallishbeans #boat boys #mumbomaid au

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