#giant chess set

[afrotumble]

📷 Isika

[queen-of-paradise]

not to be that one person but Dumbledore's House of Horrors to get to the Philosopher's Stone was SO extra. Like he's the most powerful wizard of all time he could have just hidden it in his beard and Quirrel couldn't have done shit for shit to get it.

[megachess123]

Enhance Your Outdoor Oasis with a Captivating Oversized Chess Set

The dream of including an oversized chess set in interior design is a common goal. Chess sets can be placed in the backyard, transforming the outdoor space. This can elevate the overall ambiance of the home, making it relaxing during the day and entertaining for guests at night. An oversized chess set adds a unique visual element to the backyard. Here we’ll discuss how oversized chess sets can enhance your outdoor space and provide tips for integrating them into your home. Read our full blog on Enhance Your Outdoor Oasis with a Captivating Oversized Chess Set to know more.

[bluenpinkcastle]

20240620: the History of LEGO Castle day 172. Fantasy Era games! 852001 Castle Chess Set (2007, 286 pieces, 42 different parts) 852132 Tic Tac Toe (2007, 86 pieces, 5 different parts) 852293 Giant Chess (2008, 2455 pieces, 281 different parts) Parts inventory for 852001 Castle Chess Set can be found on BrickLink or Rebrickable. Partis inventory for 852132 Tic Tac Toe can be found on BrickLink or Rebrickale. Parts inventory for 852293 Giant Chess can be found on BrickLink or Rebrickable. (Images for 852001 Castle Chess Set and 852293 Giant Chess pulled from Rebrickable).

[radiance1]

Nasty Burger explosion happens, leaving Danny homeless and friendless, he gets adopted by Vlad but Vlad, in all of his ambition to get Danny as his son and even telling said boy such thing multiple times.

Genuinely doesn't know what to do.

He never, well, thought this far, and certainly never in the circumstances that made this possible.

He tries a few parenting techniques (that he's read from multiple books to get the perfect child) and nothing sticks both because of Danny's stubbornness and pettiness.

So, Vlad tries from a... different angle.

He doesn't need a perfect son, he realized, he just wanted one, and now that he's gotten one, he realizes that Danny would be the one to succeed Vladco in the off-chance (which is low as hell already) that Vlad someone gets taken out of commission.

So what does he do?

He shows Danny how fun the business world can be when you're on top of it. One of the giants, an Emperor among kings.

Slowly sinking your fangs into an enemy, backing them into a corner bit by bit, until before they realized it, they can do nothing but be a defenseless little grub. Watching them crumble to bits in their own panic, and by their own hand making their situation worse and worse until, with one final blow, nothing is left of them.

Either by their own hand, or yours.

Danny took to it like a fish to water and, dare Vlad say, they even drew closer throughout it. Not quite father and son, yet not enemies either.

He thinks the term would be... frenemies?

Yes, on the best of days allies and on every other day frenemies.

===

Danny doesn't... hate, Vlad. Yet he doesn't love him either, he thinks he likes Vlad at the very least. When the man backed off from trying to get him to be his son and replace his father.

Which was still a dick move considering his father had just died, but he's since managed to get over it. (The replacing his dad move, not his dad's death.)

Then Vlad started treating his less as a son and more of a... roommate, that he teaches business too. He will admit, he liked the change, gave him more room to grieve the loss of his family, and then, a while after that, Vlad showed him what made the business world... 'fun.'

And he was right, it is fun.

It was a great distraction from the pain of losing his family, and the fear that he would become like his dark future that he managed to avoid. He's not destroying the world, he's just destroying rival companies.

Way better in his opinion.

Of course, there are other 'Emperor among kings' out there, would be weird if there weren't honestly. To name a few, being Lex Luthor and Bruce Wayne.

In other words, a guy who hates an overpowered alien superhero and a himbo playboy.

Honestly, he doesn't really care about Lex Luthor, he's more of Vlad's chess mate rather than his. Who he does care for, however, is on Timothy Drake-Wayne.

Two years older than him, that is true, yet a fun chess mate all the same. Does he care for the boy's father and siblings? No, not really, not at all actually.

He's tried to corner the boy before (Most of which he planned out with his own chess set that Vlad got him, Vlad has one as well in fact), mostly on a whim really. To test the waters, so to speak. But, Timothy Drake succeeded his expectations and, well, more.

He tries more than once, gaining an inch, Timothy finds a way to gain two more. Corner him, and Drake finds a way out and even reserving the tides.

He's never able to completely corner Timothy Drake-Wayne, and Timothy Drake-Wayne has never been able to completely corner him, which is honestly what makes this so fun.

Vlad was right, the business world can be fun.

[rottenpumpkin13]

May we all live in fluff and denial land. Genesis and Angeal, after learning how Sephiroth was raised in that tiny room without windows, take him on a shopping spree to fill his apartment with comforting stuff! What kind of stuff does he pick out?

I think he'd be mesmerized by the most simple, mundane items to be honest. He initially forgoes all the fancy interesting things in favor of freedom and comfort. So he chooses:

• A weighted blanket, which they test out on Sephiroth in the store by draping it over him. Sephiroth responds by purring, so they take it

• Body pillows, especially those giant squishy ones that are comfortable to sleep in. In an awkward turn of events...they find a... Sephiroth-themed one...

Sephiroth: I don't understand. Why would I want a body pillow with myself on it?

Genesis: It's not for you, it's for the fans. Besides, I don't recommend that one. It's not very comfortable.

Sephiroth: How would you know?

Genesis:

Sephiroth:

Genesis: LET ME LIVE

• A futon, even though he already has a bed. Angeal makes him buy it because he's caught Sephiroth laying on the floor having an existential crisis more than enough times. "At least now you can bemoan existence in comfort," is what Genesis says.

• A set of colorful mugs. Everything in the labs was gray and sterile, so colors are a novelty to him.

• He spoils himself with a chess set, even though the real gift is finally having another person to play against, even more two people.

• He buys a slow-cooker, because the experience of waking up to, and/or being in his apartment while homemade food is cooking is an experience he desperately wants.

• A small succulent + a sun lamp for it to thrive.

• He discovers scented candles and insists on buying one of each scent.

• Two extra chairs for his dining table.

• A "Live, Laugh, Love" sign which Genesis actually gets on his knees and begs him not to buy.

[kacievvbbbb]

I think Mihawk and Garp would have the best relationship

In that I think Garp goes out of his way to relentlessly troll Mihawk by being stubbornly, purposefully, inept about the most mundane things while Mihawk, who knows exactly what he is doing and that he is being set up but ugghhhhhh, hates him on a level yet undiscovered by science.

He only gives the most tiniest of reactions to Garp’s ineptness, a brow furrowing a frown becoming deeper the tiniest twitch of an eye but Garp sees it, he knows that he’s succeeded and Mihawk hates him for it

Mihawk and Garp sitting at opposite ends of the giant ass warlord meeting table locked in an intense mental chess match unbeknownst to everyone in the room. Garp keeps waging psychological warfare on Mihawk by eating the pieces, everyone but him is extremely thrown when Mihawk unsheathes Yoru and lunges at Garp, who laughs manically, without warning

Mihawk tries to get some sympathy from Shanks but Shanks’ has found Garp and his shenanigans hilarious since he was five so he obviously thinks this is the best thing ever. It might also help that Mihawk tends to look like a puffed up pretty bird after every encounter with Garp but Shanks is just a man for Christ sake! he’s weak!

[still-a-morosexual-help]

God, this man has the absolute worst case of nostalgia based rose tinted glasses

In nightbringer itself Asmo says the day before they Fell he was hiding from Raphael for messing with him/pissing him off

All of Lucifer's siblings (minus Levi, as far as we know) were frequently sneaking into the human world while they were actively at war with the Devildom and while it was forbidden to interact with humans

Mammon used the angels as his own giant chess set????

Mammon used to sneak into the human world to collect pigeon feathers and sell them to angels by saying they were Raphael's feathers, which is hilarious but is also A FUCKING SCAM THAT CURRENT MAMMON WOULD ABSOLUTELY PULL

The others actually thought Mammon would Fall long before he did because he was such a shit head

Asmo used to have his Asmo parties or Asmo nights or whatever up in the Celestial Realm despite Raphael saying parties are bad (I feel like the actual word he used was "immoral"? )

Asmo used to sneak into the human world to go partying with humans

It is heavily implied in s3 that asmo was fucking & sucking his way through the celestial realm (good for him btw get those sticks outta the angels' asses babe i believe in you <3 )

The twins and Lilith used to frequently sneak into the human world

Lilith started a whole ass relationship with a human and lied her ass off about it so that she could keep it secret

Lilith compared Michael to a jellyfish???? the first time she met him and that pissed him off

Lilith held a hell of a grudge

Belphie used to skip work so he could go nap

The brothers, as a team, used to catch frogs, cut holes in books, put the frogs into them and wait for Raphael to open them

The brothers, as a team, used to dig pits in the ground and cover them up so that other angels would fall into them (at least the frog thing was kinda funny this is just them being straight up dicks)

Raphael was constantly chasing them around with his spears and getting on Lucifer's ass about them because of how troublesome they were

S4 implies that the reason the brothers' pranks are more refined as demons, compared to when they were angels, is because they now have Satan

So yeah, they were always asses

But even if there is some truth in what Lucifer said about them being kind & sincere (and honestly, there is. We've seen more than enough evidence of it in the events, devilgrams, chats & s1-4) :

Levi says he was depressed in the Celestial Realm and felt like he didn't fit in.

Both Mammon & Beel didn't fit in until Lucifer found them.

Lilith definitely didn't feel like she fit in.

Lucifer, as a demon, says he'll never want to go back. Talking with Diavolo as an angel made him lose a little faith in the Celestial Realm. His greatest fear is possibly his father. Even before they Fell something in the Celestial Realm was pissing him off so much that he managed to spawn a whole other conscious life form - Satan says he gained his own consciousness even before Asmo was created meaning that anger had been festering for a long time.

As far as we know Asmo & Belphie were the only ones who were genuinely happy throughout their entire time in the Celestial Realm (and I think once Asmo gets used to his demon form he'll appreciate the freedom in the devildom over the strictness of the celestial realm)

Mammon, in Nightbringer, says that they know there's no real difference between being an angel or a demon and that they're all just labels.

Whatever sincerity and kindness they, may or may not have, had in the Celestial Realm wasn't because they were angels. Or because of the Celestial Realm.

It was in spite of all that.

It was just what they are like as people.

And of course that sincerity and kindness aren't gonna shine through right after a horribly traumatic event that killed their sister and permanently changed their bodies. And due to such an event & their Sins becoming more...more, they'll obviously be different and treat each other differently as demons.

But at the end of the day they are good, kind people, even as demons.

Like we've seen that.

[readychilledwine]

Kissed by Fire pt 3

Summary - Amelia Archeron, the oldest of the made sisters, sacrificed more than her sisters would ever understand, and more than she would ever allow them to know. Now, they want her to sacrifice her one chance at happiness, too.

Warnings - Amelia was a prostitute, body insecurities, mentions of abuse, and the author's loose understanding of chess, but using it more as symbolism and foreshadowing

A/n - it's happeniiiiiing. Things are short and sweet to allow me to make a giant scene where Eris and Amelia meet in the next chapter, and we get to hear Eris say my favorite Eris line to her 🫠

Series Masterlist ✨️ Eris Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist

Rhys sat across from Amelia, a chessboard set up between them. 

He was ruining a game he and Azriel had been playing before he left for the Mountain, but he could not think of any other way to explain to Amelia how powerful and valuable she was, and this was a language the oldest sister would understand after years of playing with her father.

“Lower fae with minimal powers,” he grimaced at the term, “would be like the pawn pieces.” He held one obsidian Pawn in his hand. “They're able to move one space toward but can not go back. Lesser fae can sometimes winnow, but if they make it is another conversion entirely, and they will be worn magically from the effort.”

Amelia nodded. She watched as Rhys picked a bishop, “Low fae with more magic singing through them would be like a bishop. Larger winnowing patterns are possible but still limited.”

“Most fae who prefer to call themselves by their race, such as my illyrians, would be similar to a knight. Capable of larger movements and typically able to jump exactly where they want, granted, most would rather just fly, so winnowing is not a skill the Illyrians truly care about.”

“All brawn no brain,” Rhys smiled at her statement.

His hand moved to a rook. “High fae would be similar to the rook. Typically they're able to go wherever they like within reason, but the jump may be difficult and use more magic than expected.”

He ignored the king piece, the least valued piece in chess, and moved to the queen. “You, my dear Amelia, are the queen piece. There is no limit on your movement,” he paused, ensuring she was looking at him. “Through our world or into another if wanted.”

“Lovely. What exactly does that mean?”

Rhys smiled at Amelia, watching as she rotated in her seat to stare at the map of constellations he had charted many years ago. “It means you can lead whole armies into new worlds and territories by just looking at one of those strings that holds the fabrics of our world together. It means the realm, our world, can communicate to you where to go when you ask and you can get there regardless of the distance with less than half the amount of effort it takes for a High Lord to winnow from Spring to the Night Court.”

He paused, looking at the map with her. “It means you could pull one of those strings and open a rift to a new world. If they are out there.”

“And why is this such a useful skill that you all are now fighting about taking me to Hewn City?” Amelia clocked Rhys straighten slightly, eyes glaring.

“You've been listening to conversations not meant for you again.”

Amelia leaned forward, wrapped in that sweater that made Rhysand's skin crawl anytime he saw it. “Perhaps you all should not discuss someone like they aren't sitting in the same home as you. Who is Eris?”

Rhys sighed, leaning forward to meet her at eye level and show her he would not, and would never, be intimated by her. “Eris is Lucien's older brother. He is a heartless, cruel, and selfish asshole.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “I've been around my fair share of bad men, Rhys. 

“Not that were over 500 years old and used words for warfare. Eris likes powerful things. He will see you as an object for collection.”

“Sounds familiar," Rhysand glared at her serpent smile, "You assume I would allow myself to be collected.”

“I assume it would be best to protect you and not risking him charming his way to you.”

“So, he's charming.” Rhys could help but laugh, watching as Amelia smiled too, the air feeling lighter. “I still think you should let me go.” She batted her lashes at him, watching as his chest stilled and smirked.

“You are dangerous as well. Batting those pretty eyes to get your way. Have you always been like this?”

“No,” she replied softly. He watched her mind go back to a simpler time, chasing a young Feyre through the market in fine clothing before going back to the night she sold everything to keep them alive. “I was made dangerous.”

Amelia stared at the scrap of the clothing Feyre was holding up to her. She could have sworn this was Rhysand mocking her, attacking her despite the period of almost friendship they'd had the past week. 

“I'm not wearing that,” Amelia curled into herself, hugging herself tighter. “That isn't even a dress.” The dress, if she caved to Feyre's desires and called it that, was surprisingly white. But it would cover nothing. 

Amelia had worn dresses like it before. Dresses meant to entice and entertain. Dresses meant for seduction. Dresses meant to flaunt. She hated them every time. Her mother and grandmother had beaten modesty into her, and her former line of work had ripped it apart. She had hoped in this new body, this new life, she could go back to the safety fabric offered.

Rhys had promised never again. He promised her safety. This dress wasn't safety. “Ask Rhys if there's something else I can wear.” 

Feyre's smile fell. “I am high lady of this court-”

“Then if it was your idea, I will remind you that you are my sister. My baby sister. Asking me to wear this is so violating, Feyre. I would never ask that of you. Regardless of my status over you." The one you constantly hang over my head was left unspoken. It was resentment on Amelia's end, just annoyance at Feyre's newfound entitlement.

“Do you not want to reclaim your body? Hybern took your human body from you. Don't you want to own what you have now?”

Amelia could hardly believe what she was hearing as she mentally called for Rhys, and he appeared. “I do not have to wear that to reclaim myself.” The High Lord's eyes were wide as he took the dress from Feyre. They were communicating silently between them, the female glaring up at her husband. 

“I had a different dress commissioned in case you said no to this one. We do allow choice in this court,” Rhys started slowly, taking Feyre's jaw in his hand. “If your sister likes this one so much, she can wear it herself.”

Amelia couldn't help but smile at the two of them. Despite her and Feyre never being as close as she would have liked, seeing her happy, seeing Feyre smile, brought Amelia joy. “You look beautiful when you're happy, Feyre.” You watched her sister flush and Rhysand smile wide. “Even if your mate is mediocre.” The male's mouth fell open as Feyre began to laugh, eyes sparkling at the sign of life coming back to Amelia. 

“Lia! You can't say that,” her voice was laced with giggles as Rhysand stood there in shock, seemingly too stunned to speak. “I think you broke him.” 

“Good,” Amelia kissed her brother's cheek softly before taking the dress, caving to Feyre's wants for once in her younger sister's life. “He needs to be humbled every so often. I will wear this once. Then, I want things that cover a bit more. We can compromise on design." Feyre sighed as Amelia kissed her temple, that once motherly love healing a small part of her. "I am going to freeze in this."

“What do you want in return?”

“Freedom for the night. No brooding male following my every footstep. No wings hovering in the distance. Just freedom for one night.”

Feyre did not give Rhysand time to fight. “Deal!”

Eris hated Hewn City. He had since he was first brought to the Mother forsaken place as a child, but now it reminded him all too much of that mountain. Of Amarantha. 

He wondered how Rhysand had the strength to be down or if the strength was just another finely crafted mask the male wore. 

His usual room had not changed since he was last here over a hundred years ago. Eris threw himself on the bed, allowing a few moments of rest on the dark sheets and blanket before he would have to get dressed into the fine trousers and jacket he had packed himself. 

He had no worries about Keir. Dealing with that male was easy. If he believed he was benefiting from whatever he was offered, he normally took the bait without question.

He had packed an exquisite outfit, smiling at the amount of his father's money sewn into each thread. He checked it over, ensuring nothing was loose and out of place before getting dressed. He could already hear the music, the laughter, and smirked, knowing he was late and would walk in while Rhysand was already sat on his throne. 

He walked along the palace walls, waiting until the doors opened before entering. Azriel was the first to spot him, immediately going to Rhysand and whispering in his ear. He felt those violet eyes on him studying him, but nothing mattered to Eris as much as what he saw. 

There, on the dance floor, was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. For Eris, nothing else mattered. There was no one else there.

It was just her. 

That beautiful creature, laughing too hard to be deemed appropriate. Smiling larger than she should. Dancing with every male that asked. 

She was an enigma, and Eris was more than ready to dive into every complex piece of her.

General Taglist:

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Kissed by Fire:

@justdreamstars @coralseacourt @kemillyfreitas @impossibelle @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @isa1b2h3 @glaciuswduo

@mybestfriendmademe @st4r-girl-official @fandomarchiveilyd @chasing-autumns-chill @tequilya @skyesayshi @maddybraps @acourtofbatboydreams @homeslices @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @believinghurts @going-through-shit

[dimonds456-art]

Chapter 2 of the Runaway Ford AU is up! Also below the cut for you guys who don't have an Ao3

Seagulls screeched nearby, and voices could be heard muttering to each other from every direction. It was a beautiful day to get out and enjoy some sunlight, but Ford had other priorities. 

Taking in a breath of fresh air, Ford paused. He'd only just made it outside the pawn shop, stopping to take in the bright midday sun and the clear blue sky. 

First up, he had to find Stan. Then, they were gonna run off together. After that? They'd go live on the Stan'O'War, probably. It couldn't float yet, but they could fix that easy-peasy.

The issue was trying to find Stan, though. Ford's first thought was the Stan'O'War, which was down by the beach, but there was a chance that Stan was waiting somewhere closer, and if Ford left now, he'd miss him. Then, he'd double back, and Stan would go to the boat, and they'd just keep passing each other while never actually finding each other, and that sounded like a mess waiting to happen. Best to be methodical about it.

He knelt down, unzipping his backpack to pull out his notebook and a pen; his sharpie- old reliable once again. Unfortunately, he knew first-hand that it would bleed through the pages, so he set it aside for now. Instead, he pulled out a smaller ballpoint pen. 

Quickly zipping his bag back up and slinging it over his shoulder, he sprinted off a little down the road. If his parents found his note too fast, they'd be able to catch him before he made any progress on finding Stan, and if that happened, he probably wouldn't be allowed out for the rest of the summer- a summer which just started. There was so much sun ahead of them, he couldn't get cooped up too fast this time. 

Once he was a couple buildings away, he ducked into a small alley and opened his notebook again. He started writing down as many places as he could think of, before going back and starring the ones he thought were most likely.

List of places Stanley could be: - Somewhere around Pines Pawns *! - Hot Belgian Waffles - The Stan'O'War *! - The park - The boardwalk - That once ice cream store I can never remember the name of *!

Ford read it over again, trying to think of more. There was also a chance he was in places Ford liked to go, like the library, but he'd check those later. 

Now, where to start? Ford was willing to bet his allowance that Stanley was on the Stan'O'War, but in case he wasn't, Ford didn't want to keep running around in circles. So, starting at the closest place and going from there made the most sense. 

Back to Pines Pawns it was. Hopefully they hadn't found the note yet. 

Ford stood in front of his previous residence of not even a half an hour ago, tapping his pen against his chin. 

Nope. Still looked the same as it ever did. 

The building was shorter than the other ones around it, which was bound to draw eyes, so his father had basically taken advantage of it. He'd put up all kinds of eye-catching paraphernalia around the place, like pointing hands and bright colors, to advertise the shop. The dirtied window showcased watches, a chandelier, a trophy, and stuff of a similar caliber. Up above was a giant chess piece as suggested by Ma, since it was weird- making it stand out. No one had giant pawns on top of their roofs.

The sidewalk was covered in tiny flecks of sand and dirt and trash, the streetlight was just off-center enough to drive Stanford nuts, and the silver bin they kept in the alley looked full. Same as it ever was. 

After taking a moment to just drink it in, Ford darted off to the left-side alley. There wasn't much down there, just brick walls and trash. And no Stanley. 

Same with the right side. Ford crossed his arms, scrutinizing the alley as best as he could. Candy wrappers crunched under his shoe as he tapped his foot. See, he wasn't an expert by any means, so trying to figure out what was a clue and what wasn't was hard. Like, he didn't know what to look for. Did that mean there were no clues, or they were just going over Ford's head? 

A small gust of wind blew by, rustling the half-crumpled cardboard sticking out of the trashcan. It didn't blow out, but it was enough to make Ford realize that this was probably a dead end. 

He crossed off Pines Pawns. 

The bell rang as Ford stepped into the restaurant. The next-door business, Hot Belgian Waffles, was always a favorite of Stanley's when they could afford to eat there. Their pancakes were fluffy as a cloud, butter smooth and melt-y, and their syrup was sweet. Of course, the best meal was the waffles, which were just cooked enough to be crunchy on the outside and soft and fluffy on the inside. Add some strawberries on top with some butter and syrup and you were golden. 

Ford took a couple steps inside, trying not to get too swept up by the smells. This was probably a bad time to realize he hadn't eaten anything before leaving the house. The aroma was positively divine. 

While he loitered by the front door, most of the patrons continued eating and chatting. However, he did see a few glance his way, who were quick to squint at him disapprovingly. He looked down at the floor. More wooden flooring. Cozy.

A waitress spotted him. She was a taller woman, with dark curls circling her round face. She took care of the couple she was serving, jotting something down, before walking up to Ford. She smiled widely, just enough to look friendly but not enough to look genuine.

"Well now, if it isn't one of the Pines Pawns boys!" she greeted, voice syrupy sweet. "Just you today, sugar?"

"Oh, um, I'm not gonna order," Ford told her somewhat sheepishly, pretending he didn't see her smile falter. "I'm looking for my brother." 

"The other one? Can't say I've seen him today." She placed her hands on her hips. "Say, what's with the outfit? You playing handyman or somethin'?"

"Oh," Ford looked down at himself, realizing how out-of-place he looked now with his belt, backpack, and bindle. "No, I'm… treasure hunting." He shrugged, making eye contact and smiling and remaining calm and not sweating. "You never know what you'll need for that." 

The waitress looked like the impossible cross between disappointed and overjoyed to hear that. "I see. Well, if he comes around, I'll put in a good word for you."

Ford visibly relaxed. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Don't mention it. Though, per company policy, I am going to hafta ask you to stop loitering in the doorway." 

"Right. Goodbye, miss!"

"Good luck!" She waved him out as he reached up to the door handle and pulled. It was heavier than the Pines Pawns door- must be made of better materials. Either that or the gold handle really was gold. 

As Ford stepped back out, he crossed Hot Belgian Waffles off the list.

If his intuition was right, his next stop should be his last. 

Ford lifted up the tarp, stepping inside the rickety old boat with a smile. "Stanley! I…" he trailed off, face falling as he took in the empty expanse. "...found you." 

Nothing. The box of nails they forgot to bring home were still there, their footprints were untouched aside from the inarguable influence of gravity, and nothing looked more broken than it had yesterday. 

Ford pushed the tarp back all the way, slowly stepping inside through the broken side of the ship. Each noise he made didn't echo so much as it was immediately thrown back at him, amplifying it. It made the silence even thicker. 

"Stanley…?" Ford called out tentatively. "You in here?"

The crashing of the waves nearby served as his only answer.

Stepping back out, his eyes took a second to adjust to the light. Maybe he fell asleep on the deck? The stairs weren't usable inside yet, making it hard to get up there, but the boys had noticed that some of the planks on the side stuck out at just the right angles to form a makeshift ladder. Ford set his bindle down, taking each step carefully as he scaled the side of the craft. 

Up on top now, he had a much better view of the beach. No one was here, which wasn't surprising for this time of year, but it was still eerie. Ford found himself tensing his shoulders as he glanced around. 

Okay, logic. If Stanley wasn't at the boat, then he could feasibly be anywhere. Or, maybe he had been staying at the boat, got bored, and wandered off? That sounded like a Stanley thing to do. Or maybe he went to play in the ocean and got dragged out by the undercurrent again? Or maybe the Jersey Devil found him? 

The more he stood there and thought about where his brother might be, the more Ford found himself getting lost in worry. He gripped the straps of his backpack tighter, scanning again, slower this time, to see if he could see any trace of his brother along the shore. 

Waves lapped at the sand lazily, seagulls screeched. Cars drove by not too far away. The long, thin grasses further up the beach rustled against each other in the wind. But no loud whooping or sounds of destruction. 

"Okay, okay, this is okay," Stanford said to himself. "He's probably around here somewhere. He probably… went to go get ice cream. Yeah." That was reassuring! And delicious. 

His body didn't stop shaking. 

He groaned, throwing his head back. "When I find Stanley, I'm throwing him into the ocean myself," he grumbled.

Taking a deep breath, Ford walked over to the side of the boat where he'd left his bindle and jumped back down. He landed softly in the sand, having done this a couple of times now. It did send a shock up his joints, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. 

"Okay, Stanford, just think." He slung the little stick-bag over his shoulder again and began to pace around the boat. "If he wanted to meet you here, he would NOT be here." He threw his free hand out for emphasis. "He's too restless for that. So the best choice would be to stay and wait for him. But…" he trailed off, glancing down the beach. "...if he's not here, then you're wasting more time." 

He hummed, trying to calm the storm brewing in his mind. "Maybe…" 

Ford gasped, then smacked himself in the head. Duh!

There was one other place on the beach Stanley might be. Stanford quickly took off, heading north.

Let it be known that Stanford Pines did not give up easily. Heck, he still had a bunch of other places to be searching! But his earlier hypothesis of the two of them walking circles around each other was starting to become more clear. Which meant, one of them had to stand still and wait for the other to catch up. And since Stanley could not, for the life of him, stand still, it looked like Ford was going to be the one to do that.

He sat forlornly on his seat, gazing off into the waves. It was going on five hours since he started searching, and while adults would tell him that that wasn't very long at all, to Ford, it felt like he'd been going all day. Paired with the worry building in his guts that was slowly rising towards his chest, he was feeling exhausted. 

He'd already checked the park, and the boardwalk (he'd walked up and down it three times), and he'd made sure to find that ice cream place and ask about Stanley there. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. No one had seen him, no one had heard him, no one had anything to tell! 

There were too many variables and not enough information. He could spend the entire day running around in circles and that would solve nothing. He just had to trust that Stanley had come looking for Ford now, too, and they were doing circles. They were both just being silly and overreacting. It was fine. He was fine. They'd see each other by nightfall, since Stanley would go back to the Stan'O'War to camp out for the night, right? Yeah, yeah that was it. 

But right now, Ford couldn't find it in him to move. Everything was becoming too much. 

His feet dug into the sand under him, and he lightly pushed himself back and forth in a slow swaying motion. His swing made low creaking sounds as he did. 

Stanley's swing was silent. 

Sunset was still about two hours away this time of year, so he had time to just… breathe. Calm down, refocus. Stanley was on his way.

"Oh, and now what do we see here?" 

Ford tensed at the sound of footsteps behind him. He didn't turn to face them yet; he didn't know what to expect. Last time he'd heard those voices, it didn't end well, but it also had been a while, so…? 

"Galloping gumshoes, I do believe that's one of the Pines twins! All on his lonesome, apparently." The second voice dripped with fake surprise. 

"About time, wouldn't you say, Dickie?"

There were suddenly hands grabbing at the ropes of Ford's swing. Jumping, he turned to look, and found himself sandwiched between the Sibling Brothers. The boys' golden, slicked-back hair shone brightly in the late evening sunlight, and their eyes gleamed with a fire just barely concealed under fake bravado.

The one on his left, who was wearing a blue sweater vest and a white, long-sleeved shirt, nodded. "That I would, Ascot!"

The one on Stanford's right, Ascot, looked nearly identical to his twin in everything but clothing. He was wearing a red sweater with a yellow ascot poking out from beneath the collar of a white shirt. He smirked. "Say now, where is that brother of yours, freak? Not still grounded after the whole golden sticky-fingers incident, is he?" He turned up his brows in mock concern.

Ford shook his head. "N-no, he's- Stanley and I, we were just, uh…" he dug around for something to say. He did not have the time nor the patience for these two right now. He needed to march back to the Stan'O'War as quickly as possible and wait for his twin there. Hopefully he wouldn't be much longer, and if they did pass each other, they'd see it this time since it was getting late and there's no way Stanley wouldn't also be thinking that Ford was either at the swingset or the boat, right? "Just leave me alone!"

As Stanford moved to stand up, Ascot grabbed his jacket sleeve and yanked him back, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to knock him back into the seat. 

"Oh no you don't, Pines," he glowered. "We still have some unfinished business." 

Dickie leaned into Stanford's view, arms crossed. "Yeah. You owe us for the Jersey Devil debacle." 

Stanford frowned. "I don't owe you two anything! You tried to get my brother in trouble, and you keep calling me a freak!" He stood up sharply, trying to run again, only to hit the sand as Dickie tripped him. It got under his glasses and in his clothes, but he hardly noticed. He spun around, eyes flicking back and forth between the two boys. 

"Outstanding work, Dickie." 

"Many thanks, Ascot." 

The two of them started towards Stanford. He scrambled backwards, but couldn't seem to get his feet under him. 

"You know," Ascot began, "I'm starting to think your brother isn't here, Stanford." 

"What, did you finally get tired of him?"

"No…" Stanford looked away, still scooching backwards along the sand. Hopefully they were far enough away from where the broken glass was, he didn't want to get his hands cut up. They only had so many bandaids. "No, he just… he… went to go get ice cream?"

"Ho ho ho!" Dickie placed a hand on his guts in mock laughter. "So he really is gone!"

"No, he isn't!" Stanford stopped, purposefully focusing on his feet as he shakily stood back up. "I'm going to find him!" 

"Find him?" Ascot raised a brow. "And he has been missing for…?"

Crap. "Nothing! I mean, never! I know where he is!" Stanford pointed at them both accusingly. "And you better get outta here before he gets back! You don't wanna mess with him, trust me!"

The two gave each other a long look before bursting out laughing. If Ford had to describe it in a word, it'd be "snooty." 

"And just what makes you think you can solve any mysteries?" Dickie put his hands on his hips. "If it weren't for you two following us, you would have NEVER discovered the Jersey Devil in the first place!"

"And," Ascot added, stepping closer, attempting to loom over a boy his same height, "you were working as a team. You're alone now, aren't you, freak?"

"Stop calling me that!" Stanford burst out. He jammed his hands into his pockets, hating the feeling of his face heating up. "He's my brother, of course I'll find him! We always find each other!"

Dickie tapped his chin with a finger, rolling his eyes in thought. "You know, Ascot, I've been struck with an idea," he mused, dragging out his words.

"Do tell," Ascot waved a hand at his brother in a grandiose fashion. 

"That troublemaker means a lot to six fingers, doesn't he? Perhaps, if we find him first, he'll thank us instead. We could get our reign as Glass Shard Beach's best mystery solvers back!"

"Hey, Stanley would never-" 

"I like the sound of that, Dickie!" Ascot turned to smirk at Ford again. "If we found him first, then we would be considered great detectives, cracking a case that not even the so-called Kings of New Jersey could solve on their own!"

"We could restore our reputation" Dickie seemed genuinely excited now. "And get payback at the same time!" 

"Righto!"  

"Shut up!" Stanford threw his hands up in the air before stomping towards them. "My brother and I can take care of ourselves! You stay out of this!"

"Hah!" Ascot scoffed. "What's the matter, Pines? Afraid you'll lose?"

Ford straightened indignantly. "That's my twin you're talking about! You go stick your noses somewhere else, this is none of your business!"

"Sounds like the game is on," Dickie grinned. He turned on his heel, walking back towards the nearby boardwalk. "Tah tah, Pines, we'll see you on the other side of the proverbial finish line!"

Ascot followed right behind him. "May the best detective win!" He whipped his head around and blew out a raspberry at Ford, leaving the both of them giggling their snooty giggles as they walked their snooty walks back towards civilization.

Ford huffed, hands clenched. He had sand in his hair and in his jacket and shoes and pants and speckled on his glasses and he didn't care. This wasn't some random competition, this was his brother.

Despite himself, Ford crossed his arms. "Oh you'll see," he growled. He marched back over to the swings, grabbing his bindle, and began storming off. He had a boat to catch. "You'll see."

[flamingfoxninja]

This makes so much sense why Kipperlilly was asking about how Kristen made Yes! And specifically Where she made Yes! at.

Kristen made a whole new Deity through Arthur Augfort's office and school. As a powerful cleric she reached into the Astral Plane and made life out of her questioning and worship. She temporarily had access to the realm of dead gods to make something from nothing. This was all set in the making from day one.

Jace was working with Kalina and Arianwen to revive The Nightmare King and The Rage Goddess. That's what Ragh saw in front of the office after Prompocolypse. They used Kalvaxis wanting to regain his power as a bigger play to bring back their corrupted and dead deities. A chess piece in a series of steps.

While Kalina was going to bring back The Nightmare King, Jace would work on bringing back The Rage Goddess through Elmville. Kristen already proved that Augefort Academy has access to the Astral Plane. He found and targeted students susceptible to rage, took them to the Mountains of Chaos where the Divine Wedding took place and force the students to make a choice: live for Rage or stay dead.

The Rat Grinders made that choice except for Lucy. Which is a problem because the Need a Cleric. The people the Rat Grinders killed from the school have been Clerics, because with Kristen's method you need a powerful connection to a Deity and Worship to bring life to one.

Lucy worshiped a Giant Goddess, she would have been perfect but she refused.

Yolanda gave up any affiliation to a specific deity, neutral but powerful in worship. She would be a worthy vessel but she refused.

Buddy was brought to always be killed. A follower of Helio, the son of Sol who had corrupted the Goddesses in the first place. He is the grandson of a powerful Cleric, and has that same connection and power within himself. Kipperlilly didn't kill Buddy in panic, that was the plan all along: bypass Obliviti Mori by killing a cleric to meet the Rage Goddess in the Astral Plane, then revive them to spread the word and start the ritual. Buddy was just the first one to accept.

Like in Sylvaire, they are seeding Rage to make their own version of the Nightmare Forest to bring back The Rage Goddess. It's going to bloom and spread, rake over Elmville and the Augefort Academy where the Astral Connection is.

These plans have been started since Freshman Year, and have been defeated all because on goblin was just trying to find his babysitter and another halfling just couldn't handle that.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Is anyone in the market for a villains lair? This house is for you. Built in 1984, (renovated and updated), Bar Harbor, Maine. 6bds, 5ba, $6.995M + $167mo. HOA fee.

In the entrance hall is a strange carving and what appears to be a flamingo on a log.

If this isn't a villain's lair, then I don't know what is. Look at those big-ass beams and columns.

There's a marble sink in here.

Here's a lounge

Big marble fireplaces. The ceiling in this room is crazy- there's got to be a weapon hidden in that chandelier.

Looking up at the ceiling and chandie. Nerve gas could come out of those gold things.

A villain has to have a big black piano for dramatic effect.

Off this room is a powder room.

Beautiful sun porch.

Closeup of one of the massive marble fireplaces.

Look at the gray marble columns in the hall.

Gray bath on the first floor.

The primary bedroom.

Marilyn Monroe bath with a red vintage tub and Victorian toilet.

One of the secondary bedrooms.

They don't show a kitchen, and I don't know if this is an old pool or a water feature.

There's a giant chess set, but I don't know why there's a swing within kicking distance of it.

The property is 6.25 acres.

Of course there has to be an escape route by water.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/76-Hamilton-Hill-Way-Bar-Harbor-ME-04609/2055495425_zpid/?

[megachess123]

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[megamindsecretlair]

Hey, since you made a Fic where Tyrone was a vampire, Could you do one where he’s a demon the reader does a deal with. He does the reader a favour and exchange, he has a night with them?

A/N: Whew. I'm trying to get to some of these requests! Forgive me for taking so long!

With This Sin

Pairing: Demon!Tyrone x Spooky!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. Use of pet names. There is a power imbalance, there is a sexual favor being exchanged, but it's consensual. Use of magic. Mentions of Hell. ONE SHOT.

Summary: See ask. You found a spell in a thrift store and decided to try it, not knowing if it would work or not. When it does, you're unprepared for what awaits you.

Word Count: 5,242k

A/N: I hope ya'll ain't think I forgot about my baby. He just needed some rest. He been working overtime these past few months, LOL. Who's ready for more spooky Tyrone? I've been teasing this so long that it felt like I was the only one excited. Ah well, LOL. Sorry about the wait, but I hope you enjoy! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @babybratzmaraj @iv0rysoap @misskiki90

You checked and double checked the incantations, the warnings, and the ingredients you gathered. The spell was written on old parchment and the wrinkly paper crinkled in your hand as you smoothed it out. Reading by a full moon was hard, but you didn’t want to damage the paper further.

When you found it in the thrift shop, you knew it was special. While you didn’t truly think this could work, why not try it? You had nothing to do and your friends were off being boring bitches at the club, shaking ass for lame fuck boys who didn’t have the dick to back up all their talk. 

The blades of grass sank beneath your knees as you fidgeted. You were nervous. Of course you were nervous. What if it really did work? What if? 

A quiet breeze caressed your exposed shoulders in your tank top. The instructions were too faint to see what else you were supposed to wear. You opted for a long skirt to protect your skin from any creepy crawlies in the ground. You loved nature, but not that much. 

You stood up from the ground and rechecked the circle you made. According to the spell, you were to spend all month collecting interesting rocks, seashells, pebbles, or whatever else that was shiny and happened to catch your eye. You made one giant circle, big enough to hopefully contain what you were going to summon. 

At the directional gates, you placed items of great value to you. You placed a necklace handed down to you at the North gate, a rook from a chess set at the West gate, a yo-yo at the East gate, and a photo of your grandmother at the South gate. You walked the circle to ensure that there were no gaps that the demon could slip through. No loopholes it could worm its way past.

The only thing left to do was…the actual spell. You took a few deep breaths, listening to the music of the meadow you were in. Finding this open place, away from nosy passersby, under direct moonlight, was a challenge and a half. You were about to give up when you found this place. 

There were sounds of chirping, crickets, and the breeze playing in the giant trees overhead. Your breathing slowed until it matched the natural rhythm of the space around you. Your feet were bare and your toes burrowed into the grass. Your hands were spread, fingers wiggling to ground yourself in your body. 

Here it goes…

You began the spell, chanting the exact words from the parchment. You studied it so many times, consulting several pronunciation websites, that you knew it by heart. You needed clear speech, clear thought, and intent in order to accomplish your goal. 

At first nothing happened. You kept going, watching the circle intently for any hint of a change. By the third stanza of the spell, the air before you shimmered like heat off of asphalt. Your heart leapt in your chest but you didn’t stop. You continued, focusing all of your energy to summoning a demon with enough power to accomplish your goal. 

The air split, like two hands poked through and ripped the fabric of reality. Red smoke seeped through, spilling into the circle and brushing against the boundary of the circle. You watched for any areas it might seep through. It held. 

It was working! Your heart worked double time, too excited to contain it in your chest. A grin crossed your face, eyes opened wider. You didn’t want to miss a thing. 

Out of the smoke, there was movement. There was so much red smoke, you couldn’t see what was coming out. Were there tentacles? Bones? Husks? Was it a meat suit? It could be anything.

On the last stanza, your voice rose. Amplified in the meadow. The birds stopped chittering. The breeze increased, blowing against you and making you sway. You continued. Mother Nature herself was watching what you were bringing into this world. Trying to stop you with the first element available to her. 

You planted your feet, hoping she wouldn’t open the ground beneath you and swallow you down to Hell. You were more of a cold weather type of girly. Plus you’d miss ice cream too much.

The final word dropped from your lips as a booming crack ripped through the open sky. You looked above for any sign of thunder or lightning. 

The sound of a sigh brought your attention to the circle. There stood…a man? He rolled his neck, stretched his arms as if he were waking from a long nap. He walked around the circle. Beyond him, the split in the air was still open, spilling that red smoke. The man kicked it up as he walked the around it.

Power radiated off of him. It made you take a few steps back as you were staggered by it. The sheer magnitude of it was impressive and only your little circle kept him in line.

He reached out his hand, pulling his hand back as if the boundary hurt him. You licked your lips and watched him. You did it! But what exactly did you do? Your impressions of demons were ugly, winged creatures with clawed feet and devil horns. 

This guy was…just a guy. He had thick, coiled hair. Wide lips. He wore black sunglasses, a black suit with a black turtleneck underneath. A gold chain was the brightest thing on him, glistening in the moonlight. His rich ebony skin was flawless. High cheekbones. 

“Not bad, human. Not bad,” he said. His voice was like sin personified. His voice invited all kinds of dirty fantasies, dark thoughts, and naughty ideas. It reached down into your core and rubbed against it like a cat. 

You placed a hand over your chest to calm it down. It should not have that type of effect on you. And yet…as far as demons went, he was damn handsome. You knew why devils were portrayed by the hottest people now. You’d almost sell your soul too if it meant you could hear more.

He faced you, looking at you over the top of his sunglasses. His eyes were slanted like cat’s eyes, a mix of orange and red. It was the only outward sign of his otherworldliness. His presence alone nearly choked you. 

“You’re really a…demon,” you said.

He grinned, showing off a neat row of teeth. The smile made your knees weak. You had to step in place to knock some sense back into yourself. 

“Demon is such a human word,” he said. 

“So what do you call yourselves then?” You asked.

“You can’t pronounce it,” he said, the grin never leaving his face. 

You rolled your eyes. “Sure,” you said. “What’s your name then?” 

He chuckled, the sound smooth and slow as molasses. “Do you not know how this works, little human? Are you playing with grandma’s cookbook again?”

You folded your arms. “To be honest, I didn’t think this was going to work,” you said. You approached the circle but kept a respectful distance. Just because he seemed to be confined, didn’t mean he actually was. He could be trying to play you. Fool you. Trick you. Any minute he could step over a gate and snatch you up, killing you dead.

You walked around the circle. He continued to face forward. The suit jacket hid his backside, but there was plenty of moonlight overhead to highlight his features. When you made it back to his front, he tilted his head and licked his lips.

“What year is it?” He asked.

“2024,” you answered.

He tilted his head back towards the moonlight as if he were soaking it up. He merely sniffed the air, breathed deeply. Guess that answered the question on if he needed to breathe. If Hell or wherever he was from had oxygen. 

“Been a long time since I’ve been summoned. Your kind has forgotten why they’re scared of the dark. Your funny little lights and machines to scare away the big, bad, shadows creeping through the world,” he said. 

“According to this, I summon you and I get to ask for anything I want in exchange for a sacrifice. A sacrifice of great detriment to me that does not result in loss of limb, life, or otherwise get permanently maimed or disfigured?” You asked.

The man ran his tongue across his teeth, looking at you with renewed interest. He pushed his glasses up his face and placed a hand in the air like a mime. He pushed against the boundary as if there really was a wall right there. He leaned forward and tilted his head.

“Little human’s done her homework,” he said. “I’m not in that type of business. Blood, gore, and the like don’t excite me.”

“What does excite you?” You didn’t intend for that to sound flirty. Or like an invitation. Your voice naturally dipped, became sultry, breathy. 

He licked his lips slowly. You couldn’t see his eyes but you got the sense that he was paying attention to you. To the way your breathing increased, chest rising and falling a bit quicker. What else would he notice? What else could he see? Sense? You had a million questions but the full moon only lasted so long. 

“Well? What is it that you desire?” He asked.

“I want money,” you said. The man grinned but you continued, undeterred. “I want billions of generational money that sets up me and my descendants for thousands of years. It can never be taken away, stolen, conned, given away, or the target of nefarious conspiracies.” You added more caveats, things you didn’t consider before but had to.

You didn’t care if it was shallow. You didn’t care if it was selfish. You didn’t care that this was a petty fucking reason to summon a demon and play with the natural order of the world. You were tired. Tired in your soul. 

Your ancestors’ weariness was engraved in each bone in your body. You came from kings and queens. Entire Black ass empires that were world leaders in education, medicine, and agriculture. Thousands of years of dignity, unity, and a beautiful culture. Until four hundred years of bullshit that you were still paying for. Fighting for crumbs.

Your black ass was tired. Tired of the struggle bus. Tired of working and working with nothing to show for it. The powers in charge worked tirelessly to keep their boot on your neck. To keep your children poor and their children even poorer. So what if you wanted to game the system? Who the hell was gon’ stop you? 

The man laughed. A deep rumbling laugh that started in his chest and echoed as it came out of his mouth. “I like you,” he said.

The smile was on your face before you realized that you should not be that happy that a demon liked you. This whole scene was surreal but if he could truly deliver? You and your people were set for thousands of years. And you weren’t going to keep it entirely to yourself. 

You were going to help your friends, charity, start scholarships, all kinds of rewards for Black kids. You were going to pay their tuition, sponsor their businesses; you were going to be the Black Mary Poppins. You were going to upset the financial sector to the point that you’d have them mu’fuckas shaking in their boots to see what you would do next.

“So how does this work? Do you snap your fingers and boom, my bank account is rolling in money? Do you create the money? Can I take it from decrepit old white men who really shouldn’t be alive at this point?” You asked. 

The man straightened up and put his hands in his pockets. He looked up at the moon overhead. Soon, it would begin its next phase, transitioning away from a completely full moon. The parchment mentioned something of a time limit. Sort of like Cinderella. There was only so much time that Mother Nature would allow an intruder in her space.

“Does your little paper explain how I give you what you want?” He asked. “An ask like this requires a lot of power.”

“Power you don’t have?” You asked.

He rocked on his heels and grinned. “I have the power. But nothing is free. When I work in this…realm, let’s just say I need something to bond to.”

“Something like…?”  

He grinned and stared at you, you assumed. For all you knew, he was watching TV behind those glasses. Though you didn’t think so. He was too intense. Too focused. Too in tune with this dance between you. 

He waited there so long that your nerves got the best of you. “What do you need to bond to?” 

“Moments of heightened emotion. There’s power in anger, desperation, love…desire,” he said.

You scoffed and shook your head. “Sex? You’re saying you need to have sex with me in order to grant my request?” 

“If that’s where your mind went, who am I to argue?” He asked. 

A strangled, garbled sound left you. There was no way…there was no earthly way that you would open your body up to a demon just for you to get money. You weren’t a sex worker. You respected the profession but you needed a little more loving before you opened your legs. Certainly not to a supernatural being. No matter how many times your pussy fluttered whenever he spoke or the twinge of excitement low in your belly whenever he smirked or smiled.

“How do I even know you can do what you claim? You could be a liar,” you said. 

He nodded. “I can give you a demonstration. A kiss?” 

You folded your arms across your chest, feeling entirely too exposed all of a sudden. But…an errant, naughty thought bounced in your mind. 

What if it did work? Wouldn’t that be worth it? You and your people would have security. Something no one – other than rich people – got. You’d be able to live a life of luxury and leisure. Spending your days enjoying life, rather than stuck at a 9-5 you hated. Broke down, beat down, and old before you reached thirty-five. 

You stepped forward. “You can’t cross the line, but I can and no harm can befall me in the circle I created,” you said. “Right?” 

He sighed. “You was one of them teacher’s pets weren’t you?” 

“I like to be prepared.” This was insane. This was wrong. This was so beyond fucked up that you should banish him and find some other way to get what you wanted. But hell, if nothing else, you had a wild story to tell at parties. No one would believe you fucked a demon, but they didn’t have to. 

You took a deep breath and made sure to step over the circle of stones and shells and not through it. The man smiled as you stepped onto his side. His powerful aura was even more intense inside of the circle. As if he contained the combined might and power of all eight planets and their density was going to crush you. 

It was a bit hard to breathe around it. You began to pant as if you ran three marathons, weak and swaying. The man rubbed his hands together and his power began to recede. You hunched over, hands on your knees, as you sucked in more oxygen. 

There was still red smoke seeping from the gaping wound in the world, but you stayed far away from it. The last thing you needed was to be stuck on the other side. If you did survive, you had no way of getting back. 

He waited patiently as you regained some strength. You straightened up slowly, testing your body by shaking out your limbs. You were okay, you were okay. 

“I don’t even know what to call you,” you said. “If I’m going to give you my body, I ought to know your name.”

He smiled. “You may call me Tyrone,” he said. 

As far as names went, it wasn’t a bad thing. At least it was nothing crazy like Aurelius. Tyrone seemed to suit him for some reason. Besides his eyes, he could fit in with any other Black man off the street today. Then again, no one would mistake him for human if he walked past them. 

He walked closer to you. It took all of your willpower not to move. He reached out with a hand and ran it up your arm. You shivered from his touch. A full body shiver that almost set your teeth to chattering. But you felt it like a deep pull low in your belly.

He leaned in closer, taking a deep audible breath. You closed your eyes, the moment calling for a type of intimacy you couldn’t see with your eyes. You could only feel as he moved his nose across your cheek. Stepped closer and brought his chest closer to yours. He was incredibly warm. Waves of heat dripping off of him and making you forget that you were standing in the middle of a meadow. 

He brought his lips closer to yours but didn’t kiss you yet. Your lips parted, waiting for the contact. He paused, on the precipice of kissing you. 

Moving felt like it would break the moment. Destroy this bubble. You found yourself leaning forward, impatient for his lips. You felt him smile before he closed the gap and touched his lips to yours.

You gasped as power flooded through him to you by this small contact. It was as if you jumped into a pool of static. Electricity danced along your skin and underneath. He didn’t move his lips or seek more. He stood there, not touching you or pulling you closer.

The power became unbearable and he finally pulled away. It seemed like it took ages for your eyes to open. You gasped, a deep lungful of air that burned your lungs. The world seemed sharper or clearer. As if you had been blind your entire life and suddenly could see. 

He seemed to glow with some inner light that gave him a fuzzy outline. You looked towards the meadow and the green seemed more vibrant. The colors brighter. The glow bugs and birds looking down at you from the trees were curious little things. You could count how many feathers were on their tiny bodies.

“Check your little box,” he said.

His deep voice snapped you out of your rambling thoughts. You fished around your pockets for your phone. You pulled up your banking app. Your account had a few more commas in it and you clutched your chest seeing it.

“Oh shit!” You screamed. You screamed some more and looked at him. “Shit! Shit!” 

He chuckled and moved closer still. His lips caressed your cheek, temple, and moved closer to your ear. “Imagine what I could do with more than a kiss,” he said.

You dropped your phone to the ground. With that kind of money, you could buy an entire phone company. You could buy several. You moved your head and looked at him. He still wore his glasses so you reached up to remove them. He leaned back and cocked his head to the side.

“Are you sure? I can become whatever you want. What tickles your pussy? Wolves? Lions? The latest celebrity fucktoy?” 

“You. If I’m being honest,” you said. Now that you allowed yourself to feel the attraction and not just dismiss it, it was screaming at you from all sides that he was gorgeous. That he was unlike anything else you had ever seen or would see. Being with him would change your life on a fundamental level.

Accepting him into your body would change you atom by atom and you were perfectly fine with it. You continued to remove his glasses, taking in his strange eyes. He grinned as you did so. 

His fingers lightly grazed your skin as he lifted the hem of your shirt. You helped him take it off of you. You wore no bra underneath and Tyrone greedily looked at your titties. He held each one in each of his hands and kneaded your flesh. Playing with your soft, squishy mounds and running his thumbs across your nipples.

Your growing desire pooled in your panties and you squirmed from his questing hands. He held you reverently, like a goddess and he was a mere supplicant. He either dialed back his power or it only happened when his lips touched yours. While your skin tingled from the earlier contact, you didn’t feel like you were going to jump right out of your bones. 

His hands continued to play with your titties. He pinched your nipples between his fingers and you gasped, a tiny whine leaving your mouth. He grinned and did it again, not stopping until he elicited that same whine from you. 

“Oh fuck, that feels so good,” you said.

Tyrone captured your lips with his. Power ebbed and flowed between you and it wasn’t as intense as before. This you could stand. You appreciated even that bit of effort. 

His hands moved downwards, playing with your tummy and squeezing. “You’re so soft,” he whispered against your lips. “I could get lost in you.” His tongue played with yours, quietly seeking entry into your mouth.

“Fuck,” you moaned. His big, rough hands were the perfect contrast against your smooth skin. He continued to move downward, pushing your skirt and panties down to pool at your feet. 

You moved his jacket off of him. You took your time removing his shirt as well. He wasn’t gross underneath. You blew out a tiny sigh. Surely, he had to be anatomically correct if he got his rocks off seducing people that summoned him. 

He had a solid, muscle-bound stomach that you could bounce a quarter off of if he flexed. His arms were huge. And felt like rock underneath your hands. His pants were next, flowing down over strong hips, thick thighs, and long legs. You wanted to take a bite out of his ass. 

Now you were both naked, both gripping at each other’s bodies like you didn’t know where to start first. Where to kiss or grab or lick. You settled on licking his chest to see if he tasted as good as he looked. He tasted even better. The chain around his neck was settled like a weight around his neck. You played with it, while he dropped his head to your shoulders and kissed you there.

He nibbled on your skin while your hands traveled over his body. He didn’t need to pour his magic all over you in order for you to feel dizzy with desire. You were shaking with the burning need to take him. To ride him. Your hands cupped the length of him and you froze.

That…couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be that damn big. Your mouth dropped open as your hand continued to stroke him. He was long and thick, with a nice bulbous head that leaked precum. You…were in danger.

As if reading your thoughts, he dropped to his knees and took you with him. You gasped, finding a blanket beneath you now. You saw hints of red around the red smoke. Giving the illusion that you were sitting on a bed of red clouds in the sky.

He pushed you onto your back and gripped your knees. He grinned, eyes seeming to glow, as he pried your legs apart. You moaned, gyrating on the softest blanket you’d ever felt. It was a bit fuzzy and felt amazing on your back. 

Was the red smoke full of an aphrodisiac? Because you felt like your skin was going to burn off unless he did something. Anything to your body besides kiss and nibble on it. You were growing needier by the second. He massaged your thighs as he took in the sight of your dripping pussy.

He dropped to his stomach. No words. No warning. He flattened his tongue out and licked you from your entrance to your clit and you moaned, loud and desperate. “Oh fuck! Tyrone, please,” you said. 

“Please what, little human?” He asked. He returned to licking you, suckling at the sweet nectar your body produced. You trembled in his hands, trying to close your legs against his delicious mouth. It was too much!

Words left you as you surrendered to the pleasure. To the incredible, out of body experience you were having. His shoulders were too big to close against. He moved a little higher to ensure that you could not deny him your body. Could not deny the passion and desire flowing out of you and filling him up like a battery.

He moved his arms up to grab onto your nipples once more and roll them between his fingers. Your body arched off of the ground. “Oh fuck! Ouee, fuck, right there,” you moaned. 

His tongue flicked your clit and you were soon making teetering wails. You came with a viciously loud, echoing moan. If there was anyone nearby, they’d certainly hear you. Hear your screams in the meadow as this demon licked, sucked, and moaned into your pussy.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, trying to push or fight him off. As if that would help with the intense pleasure you were feeling. Like the orgasm couldn’t be contained in your body. Like it had to be let out somehow but was restricted by the confines of your skin. 

Tyrone’s gold chain was cold against your skin, but did little to help. Did little to help pull you back to reality. Eventually, your body did take over and you calmed down from such an intense feeling.

Tyrone kissed up your body, leaving wet kisses on your lower belly and between your breasts. He suckled one nipple into his mouth before continuing up and capturing your lips. Fuck, you smelled divine on his lips. Tasted just as good on his tongue. He kissed your jaw and your neck, licking the delicate skin there.

Your bottom lip quivered. You were still so needy for him. Needing to be filled. You were hollow. Empty. There was no existence in this life worth a damn unless he was sliding that piece of art he had in between your legs.

“Please, Tyrone. Please, it hurts so bad. I need you inside me,” you begged.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. He tugged on your neck with his teeth and you cried out, gyrating your hips against his.

“Please, please. I can’t stand it anymore,” you cried. Your voice wobbled a bit as tears gathered in your eyes. You were drunk with lust. Out of your mind. “Please.”

Tyrone lifted onto his hands and moved his knees forward. It pushed your thighs back until you were nearly folded in half. He watched you as he moved his hips and moved his dick against your wet folds.

You moaned from that alone. You sniffled, a few tears finally escaping your eyes and trailing down the side of your face and into your hair. You just needed to be complete. To be filled up. To have him…

“Oh fuck,” you rasped. He pushed inside with one hard thrust, cutting off your insane line of thinking. 

You clutched him to you as if you could absorb him into your body. You’d have to settle for the fact that he was as close as possible already. You bit his shoulder because there wasn’t enough air to scream.

He moved his hips in hard, deep strokes that made you hike your legs higher. Scratch at his back. Your titties bounced with each stroke and he licked his lips. 

Every few strokes, he’d drop down into a push up and suck a nipple into his mouth. He alternated between the two so each one got as much attention as the other. He rolled the sensitive little buds between his teeth, pushing you into another orgasm. 

On the heels of that one ending, he pushed you into another. Curses fell from your mouth like sparks from fireworks lighting up the sky. You looked towards the moon as Tyrone possessed you. Claimed you. Ruined you here right in this meadow. 

He licked the swell of your breasts as moans and grunts escaped him as well. As he closed his eyes and lost himself inside you. He groaned as he nutted, filling you to the brim with his cum. 

You came at the same time, widening your eyes as you looked at him. He looked at you as if you held all the secrets of the universe. Staring like he lived or died on your word. A different kind of power flowed between you. Something unnameable. Sacred. Cherished.

He grunted as he spilled every last drop and then removed himself from between your legs. That desperate clinginess from earlier began to dissipate. You huffed, falling back against the blanket and stared up at the night sky. 

“You will have all that you asked for,” he said. He was out of breath, same as you. You felt like you had been irrevocably changed. Unmade. Made in his image. He turned on his side and pulled you into him.

You turned to face him. You both laid there and panted, coming down from this incredible bond. “Thank you,” you whispered to him.

“The gratitude belongs with me, little human. I’ve never…experienced something like that before,” he said. He grinned. You couldn’t resist kissing him some more.

You began to tremble from the cold. He stole the heat right out of your body. He rubbed your arms, side, and ass, any bits he could get his hands on. 

You saw the look in his eyes before he said a word. “I know you have to go. It’s okay,” you said.

He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. He called your name softly. You weren’t even going to ask how he knew it at this point. Maybe he could read minds or something in the spell allowed him to know you. But he kissed each of your fingers and looked at you.

“You ever think of anything else you want, you know how to reach me,” he said.

You giggled and rolled your eyes. Yeah right. You could not have a standing monthly date with a fucking demon. Though the idea wasn’t without merit. How in the hell were you supposed to ride a mediocre dick after this? 

His lips returned to yours, lazy, sloppy things that made you giggle and gasp in between. He kissed you until the very last second, the pull of the moon signaling the end of your time together. You sat up and watched him as he stepped back through the gap in the world. He blew you a kiss and disappeared inside. It sealed itself behind him and you laid back down on the soft grass, staring up and up.

You would never meet someone like Tyrone. And you feared that you’d search for him everywhere now. In every blade of grass, flower bloomed, star that blinked, or whenever you heard a song that reminded you of him. You only hoped that wherever he was, he spared a thought for you as well.

The end.

Well, well. If you need some more after that, you're in luck! The Secret Tyrone Files

[rescuebabiesau]

Sigma Seventeen's Love Languages

Heatwave

Receiving: Words of Affirmation (Struggles with Kade so much because Kade does not often give him the praise that he unknowingly craves)(he will fight you if you tell him this is his language "No! It's physical touch! I'll wrestle you to prove it!")

Giving: Acts of Service (though he'll do it without them knowing)

Boulder

Receiving: Quality Time (Likes to go on hikes or adventures with other people)

Giving: Acts of Service (Helping others out with tasks or assignments)

Chase

Receiving: Words of Affirmation (Gets a lot of it from Chief)

Giving: Gifts (The giant chess set from "Switcharoo" is a good example)

Blades

Receiving: Quality Time (TV time with Dani and Cody)

Giving: Gifts (He loves the anticipation of watching someone open a present that he worked so hard on!)

[evilminji]

Back on my DpxNaruto ideas cause there's room for SHENANIGANS~!

You ever go on a BIT of a road trip? To a Really Good Restaurant you've heard exsists waaaaay that away? And it's far... but not Unreasonably Far(TM)? You could make it a day trip! Maybe check out the surrounding area! Buy some other stuff or see the sights.

You got a long weekend.

And you heard it's REAL good.

Imagine~! If you will! Broke ass, scruffy, Built Like His Father, Feral Like His Mother, "just here for the snacks, man" type College Student type Danny! A GIANT. Perpetually reeks of engineering oils and the unplace-able yet universally familiar scent of Ectoplasm. And? Probably whatever high-end self care products Sam's mom sends her, since Tucker can't use um.

He eats like a bottomless VOID because somehow he's STILL growing. Will be for centuries. Long after his HUMAN half stops? His ghost half is gonna keep going.

Sucks, man. :/

He hungy.

But he already SPENT his monthly budget on that part he desperately needed. And cheap ramen sucks after the fifth meal in a row. And it's not like he can go fishing or anything. So what to do???

Visit... lunch lady? Maybe? He considers?

He figures "Why Not?". Makes a portal and lazily floats towards the Box-Lady Lair. But? So deep in though is he? He doesn't look where he's GOING and *gentle bonk* oop! Oh man! He's so sorry!

Some giant dude in armor with a HUGE mane of hair. The guy just laughs good naturedly, says it's fine. And turns out? They're going the same way! He's part of Lunch Lady's Cooking Club. Oh, sweet! Danny's heard she started one of those...

But wait! If he's heading over? Is the club NOW?

No, no! He's assured. The guy also watchs Lunch Box for them. He's good with kids, comes with being part of a big clan.

They get talking. Danny fascinated. Ninjas, huh? Cool. And that's when? The guy drops, with no small amount of pride, the little tidbit.... that oh by the way~ no big DEAL~☆

But WE produced some of the BEST cooks in the ENTIRE known world.

:O

Okay now he HAS to try this food. This guy is waxing poetic about it. Descriptions that make him actively drool. Mentioning how this aunt ran THIS stall and that nephew was learning at THAT restaurant. And Danny just? W... Where did you say this was?

Hell yeah! Direction? Achieved!

Danny gonna get him some FANCY BBQ! \( ^ - ^ )/

Smash cut to him making a day of it. Finding the right area. Asking around. Trading some stuff from the Speeder to a dude for not only the location body but permission to take his wallet. Guy says he can have it in return for a travel chess set and a proper grave. Nice!

So he locks up the Speeder, squeezes past the weird "Summon Realms" bubbles, dodges the SUPER cranky Shinigami, aaaaand? We're in! BBQ here we come! It's takes like? Basically nothing to find the guy's body. He's supposed to burn it, put it in an urn, and deliver it to one of some Deer clan near the BBQ shop. Along with his stuff.

Hope they don't mind ice urns.

Just? Imagine A Void. Like Vanta Black. A hole in the world in the shape of where a man SHOULD be. Where ANYTHING should be. You can see through it, the color of simple existence fighting to make your eyes overlook What Is Not. Were it 2D, you know you would be able to see it clearly, but in the presence of a third dimension?

It's Not There.

You are LOOKING at it... and everything it is, is Empty. Void. A perfect Nothing.

Not hot or cold, neither light nor dark, just... Not There. With Chakra being present in all life. Air, the soil beneath you, all of it. This is? A perfect shadow upon the world. No suppressed Chakra, no hidden bloodline trick.

It's like the Patron Spirit(s) of the Ino-Shika-Cho decided to come and visit.

Or, more accurately, the SON of one such spirit decided to sneak off and visit. He has the height, the hunger, and the gregarious nature. The perfect shadow, the black hair, and the incredible intelligence. And those blue eyes? The ability to dive into bodies and take them over? (He wanted to see if he could do it WHILE his "new friend" was doing it to someone)

Most terrifying, though? APPARENTLY his mother? Was some Uzumaki Spirit. Red hair, purple eyes, his dad fell in love with her at first ass-kicking defeat. Terrifying women and Nara's, man. Good to know it even transcends biology. Even their GAURDIAN SPIRITS fall to it.

Now the question?

What sort is THIS one? And can they, POLITELY, make it leave?

@babbling-babull @lolottes @ailithnight @nerdpoe @hdgnj @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation @the-witchhunter