#he's like a white crow or black sheep you know

[vrrl]

A little more Dante (Vivec's reincarnation). My poor boy 🤲🖤

2nd sketch - Dante before being expelled from the Mages Guild

+ His version in the game. I tried...

[manikas-whims]

LADS men + Halloween Costumes

Now with Sylus solo banner upcoming, the possibility of getting a Halloween quad banner is nil. And i’m happy for it cuz this has saved me from making a really bad financial decision 😆

anyways here's some mulling over the LIs costume choices..

SYLUS

Option 1: Vampire

If we consider Sylus’s overall aesthetic, then Vampire is the most obvious choice for him. He can't go out in the daylight for some inexplicable reason; definitely a creature of the night. He has red eyes that glow in the dark. And even during Destiny Café interactions, he playfully sinks his teeth into your palm. No doubt he'd enjoy sinking them more into your neck 🤭

Also like imagine a 5 star Sylus Halloween card where MC begins suspecting Sylus to be a vampire. And the whole card revolves around her trying to collect evidence. Even Luke and Keiran begin to suspect Sylus thanks to MC and the 3 join forces. The card ends with Sylus playfully scolding all of them 😆 and laughing in disbelief, in that deep cadence that he has 😊

Option 2: Demon

Another obvious choice. If not a vampire, then the red eyes and dark aesthetic are also quite befitting for a Demon attire. A very charming demon who lures you into sinning by offering his black card 🤭 and ofcourse you willingly sell your soul to him.

Option 3: Bounty Hunter

You know those charming sorts of outlaws that everyone loves and roots for? Yeah, that would fit so well with Sylus. Especially the steampunk aesthetic. So yeah..a steampunk style, bounty hunter Sylus with an array of weapons strapped all over. He only works solo but will definitely make an exception for you 😌

Option 4: Crow

Unlike the other two, this option involves a big, poofy bird suit. A crow outfit to be specific. And he looks simply adorable in it 🥺 Imagine yourself trying not to laugh as you sneakily take millions of photos of him in this outfit 🤭 while he sneers at you but there's no actual anger behind his gaze.

XAVIER

Option 1: Werewolf

It may sound unusual upon first thought but this will play so well into his overall persona of the “wolf in sheep's clothing” or “wolf in bunny clothing”. He did nibble on your finger and sniffed your scent in the No Restraint card. And I'm damn sure he has a thing for biting and marking. So just imagine him putting on the wolf ears, claws and fangs, and he starts acting more sly than ever, saying he's only playing the part 😉

Option 2: Royalty

Another obvious choice. Xavier is pretty used to this cause he is royalty afterall. So assuming a position of power comes easy to him (remember Floral Blessing?). Maybe some sort of chivalrous and gallant prince because he can easily add his swordplay skills to it. Seeing him regard you as his queen will be a treat sweeter than all the candies 😌

Option 3: Lumiere

You think it's the most hilarious inside joke— Lumiere hiding in plain sight amidst the crowd of Linkon on one night where a large majority would be dressed as their legend. Their hero. Xavier absolutely hates it! And he hates the amount of people he spots in Lumiere costumes. But he'll put it on upon your insistence. Just be ready for the consequences later on cause this man is jealous of his own superhero alter-ego 😭

Option 4: Angel

Xavier with large white wings protruding from his back would be another fitting sight with his overall white/silver aesthetic. Imagine him as your guardian angel, always watching over you, protecting you and trying his best to guide you on the right path, despite his own desires for you.

Option 5: Bunny/Alien

If not the above choices, then some cute/sexy bunny costume (though we've already got our bunny butler). Or a really silly alien costume that somewhat resembles his sticker set. We know he'll look squisher than ever in those 🥺

ZAYNE

Option 1: Mad Scientist

Something similar to Dr. Faustus or Dr. Frankenstein (yeah Frankenstein was NOT the monster but the name of the guy who created the monster..in case some people still don't know 😭). Zayne’s personal goal– his obsession and drive– to keep MC alive is somewhat similar to Dr. Frankenstein’s obsession with unraveling the secrets of life and well..ultimately beating death by bringing someone to life. And Zayne's hunger for knowledge is also similar to that of Dr. Faustus’s who readily sells his soul to the devil in exchange for knowledge.

So yeah..Zayne as a mad scientist, obsessed with knowledge and the drive to keep you alive would be intense 💯/💯

Option 2: Tutor

He'll sigh, take off his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance, like he always does. But you'll somehow convince him to do it because he's incapable of saying no to you.

It starts as a silly costume idea but the moment you see his legs clad in those unusually tight-fitting slacks and the pointer stick in his hand, you realize you might have a tutor kink and that you wouldn't mind misbehaving cause you'd actually enjoy getting punished by him 🫣

Option 3: Snowman/Penguin

The cute option! Definitely Dr. Carter, Yvonne and his other co-workers coaxed him to put it on for the little kids visiting Akso hospital throughout the week. When you stop by for a scheduled check-up and stumble upon him, you can't help but take loads of pictures of him with the kids 😊

RAFAYEL

Option 1: Merman/Siren

Just like Xavier as Lumiere, Rafayel as a merman on halloween would be such a spectacular inside joke.

At first he'd be offended because the fake tail you bought for him would feel like an insult to the real thing. He would pout and narrow his brows but after your constant cajoling and sweet-talking he'll agree to indulge you. And it's all fun and games until you realize why all those sailors in fiction are so terrified yet turned on at the mere sight of a merman/siren. He'll entice you so easily with his velvety voice 😵‍💫

Option 2: Assassin

Don't fall for his pretty face. Rafayel can be cunning, deceptive and deadly when he wants to be. (in the main story and also as Abysswalker). As such, putting on the attire of an assassin would come easy to him. His charm is as lethal as the numerous daggers he conceals within his clothes. He’ll strike you right in the heart. Can totally imagine him doing finger guns at you 😉

Option 3: Chick

Pouty babie in an adorable chick costume with a beret and paintbrush, like his sticker pack. Imagine him struggling with the bulky costume, trying to waddle towards you in annoyance, demanding you to immediately help him take off the costume. Despite it all, he'd let you hug him and take selfies. He'll hate every minute of it but still pose properly when you take pics 😆

these are just some silly thoughts..what are your costume ideas for each LI 🤔

» MASTERLIST «

[shadow4-1]

“Dying alone.” You hummed, running the brush through your horse’s hair. “Y’know, it’s been weighing on me.”

Price huffed out a soft breath and nuzzled his graying muzzle against your palm. You smiled at him, rubbing your knuckles over the soft fuzz of his snout. When you’d first got him he’d been a young workhorse too ornery for any ranch hand in the county. After doing some research, you figured out he was a European breed, one not meant for the rough hands of your fellow Americans. You’d gotten him cheap, and yet his training came at a ‘price’. It took awhile for you to learn his ins an outs but he quickly grew to become your favorite - as well as your oldest. He was the first member of your ranch after all.

“I’ve never wanted to look for a man. They’re so gross, Price.” You sighed, working a few tangles out of his short, dark mane. “They always say they want me for me, but really they just want the ranch.”

There was a short bark from the door of the barn. A black and white, muscular dog stood waiting for your command. You tsked at him and he slowly came trotting up to you, head low to the ground in a submissive posture. The closer he came, the more you noticed the white fur surrounding his eyes and snout - starting to gray like Price’s.

“C’mere Ghost.” You hummed.

The dog obliged and pressed the top of his head into your hand. Ghost was such a mutt. You’d picked him up as a pup from a mean roadside vendor. If you had to guess, he had some kind of German Shepherd in him. Maybe some Rottweiler or Pit Bull? You couldn’t be sure. But what you did know, is that -

“Aw, look at my best boy! You’re my best boy!” You baby talked, squishing his chunky face. Ghost just licked his lips in indignation but made no move to escape your hold. Price snorted loudly and pawed at the ground, upset that you stopped brushing his mane.

“Okay okay. I get it.” You laughed. “Let me just finish up here!”

-

There wasn’t any field tending that needed to be done, so you sent Price off to the fenced in pasture. Despite his age, he kicked up dirt and pranced about in delight. You smiled at the old horse before heading back to the barn. Ghost sat patiently outside, his metal tags glinting in the sunlight.

“Okay, boy. Show time.”

And just like that, all hell seemed to break loose. Ghost ran into the barn and started to bark. While usually subdued, this time his bark was loud and mighty. The sheep and cows stirred in their pens. The chickens squawked from their roosts. You threw open the barn with a mighty heave. And just like that, the animals were also let out into the fenced pasture.

The cows bounded out happily, their bells clanging. Then came the half dozen sheep and their young lambs, followed by a dozen assorted chickens. You sprinkled chicken feed and enjoyed the morning mayhem. A rooster made himself known from the pack by standing up straight, puffing out his chest, and crowing with so much might you thought he might hurt himself. You poured a bit of feed in your hand before crouching down.

“Here Johnny, Johnny.” You giggled, shaking your hand.

The large rooster strutted up to you with absolutely no fear. He ruffled his feathers and clucked at you before eating the feed right out of your hand. When he was done, he let you pet him. If you wanted to pick him up, you easily could’ve. Most mornings you spent with him on your hip. Despite how amazing of a rooster he was, he never got violent with you. Now, any other hired help, it was a different story. Come to think of it, none of your animals really worked for anyone else but you.

“Sorry Johnny.” You sighed, standing up and taking a step back. “Gotta trim-woah!”

Something hard nudged firmly against your rear. You regained your balance and looked behind you.

“Kyle!” You scolded. “Yes, yes! You’re going out to the pasture too!”

The large billy goat bleated at you and rubbed the top of his de-horned head against your hip, as if to scratch himself on your belt. With a soft pat to his head, you lead him through the pasture and farther into the green grass. It took him a minute, but after taking a glance at Price on the other end of the field, he began to run towards him. The two creatures met in the middle and began to play.

You weren’t entirely sure why those two got along so well, but they certainly did. Price playfully nipped at Kyle’s short tail. Kyle just bleated in excitement and tried to ram his head into the old horse’s leg. They were a funny little duo, that was certain.

And with that, you began to finish up your morning chores. You collected the eggs and the fresh milk from the gallon jugs in the barn. You cleaned up the stalls and polished Price’s riding tack. Once you made sure everyone had fresh food and water you decided to go inside and clean up. Today was an easy day. All you would be responsible for was to bring the animals back in as well as feed yourself.

You showered, dressed in a flowy white sundress, and headed outside. You sat out in the pasture, under the shade of the old oak tree and your floppy sun hat. This day was like no other. After enjoying a bowl of fruit and a glass of iced tea it didn’t take long for you to doze off in your favorite lawn chair.

-

You dreamed that you were taking Price back to the stables after a good ride around the ranch. It was late, and the southern heat was oppressive. You wiped the sweat off Price’s back with an old towel as your removed his tack.

“Y’know. Despite your age, y’ still give a girl a great ride.” You chuckled at the old horse. You rubbed his snout. He snorted at you and you giggled. “You have no clue what I’m talking about.”

With another laugh, you turned to the stall's gate. You opened it just enough to reach to the built in shelf next to it. You dug your hand into a small box and swiped a handful of sugar cubes from within it. You turned, hand outstretched to offer it to Price. Except, when you turned, there was no longer a horse.

Standing there, completely nude, was a human man.

You gasped in shock and took a step back, hitting the edge of the stall’s wall. He took a step forward, blue eyes glittering. He eyed the sugar cubes you now clutched tightly in your palm. He reached forward, prying them from your grip, before hungrily tossing them into his mouth. He ate them with no discomfort and even smiled as he swallowed them down.

“Thanks, Love.” He licked his lips, remnants of the glittery sugar still caught in his mustache.

“P-Price?” You squeaked.

“Who else would it be?”

You had half a mind to run, but you were so enamored with the thought that your precious horse could be a human. He stepped even farther forward, boxing you into the corner of the wooden stall. Your head hit the wall, making the various items hung up shudder from the impact. Price unhooked one of the ancient reins away from the top of your head before dropping it into the fresh hay at your feet. He admired his hands for a second and so did you.

“I-you-wh-what is going on?” You managed out. “This is some kind of joke, right?”

Price didn’t seem to hear you as he tried to get a feel for his own body. You watched in shock and arousal as he flexed his arm muscles and observed the firm ripples of his own chiseled abdomen. He petted down his belly and admired the thick curls that trailed over his cock. He gripped at it, tugged at it experimentally before seeming to realize something important.

“Ready for that ride, Love?”

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

immortal apollo kids headcanons!

this is specifically for the rrverse versions of Apollo's immortal kids! but feel free to think about it in the mythology context too! :3

Hymenaeus

still has a room in Apollo's palace

still sleeps in it

but he also has a room in Eros's because he's an Erote

this makes for some awkward situations when Apollo and/or Eros have to go to the other's place to grab him for something or other

they basically share custody of him

divorced dads behavior

when he was little he tried to get people to marry his dad because he reeeally wanted to plan his dad's wedding

technically, he succeeded, because he was the one who made Apollo/Cyrene's marriage official XD

his hair is fluffy like a sheep's fluff. also somewhere between strawberry-blonde and a very light amber. and reaches to just under his chin. don't forget the floppiness tho >:3

has his dad's bright blue eyes

LOVES his dad's swans. and corvids. he loves birds.

probably because he also has wings

wings are brilliantly white with a soft pink and gold flush

never looks older than 16

many of the other Erotes find Apollo hot. Hymen is distinctly horrified to know this.

Himeros: Your dad's a DILF

Hymen: a what?

Anteros: don't you dare-

Himeros: A Dad I'd Like to FUCK-

Hymen: *much screaming*

Ialemus

also still has a room in Apollo's palace

as a matter of fact, he still lives in said room

his room is also in apollo's basement (he wanted it there)

he is the emo kid. but he's also not necessarily antisocial

he just likes his solitude. and honestly, mood

imagine dragons is a favorite band. and hozier. he likes "slower" songs as well as sad ones

has Apollo's long hair, but in a very dark brown

has vivid green eyes. like radioactive ones.

likes ponytails

cows are his favorite animal

they are calm creatures he can ramble too so he likes them

knows a lot about things. comes with listening rather than talking ;)

WILL infodump

Apollonides

these girls are the PARTY KIDS

they are the ones throwing parties in their dad's house at 2 am

they also still live in Apollo's palace

frequent clubs and discos; can be seen at concert venues and are in many of the big city concerts (ie, Las Vegas, Madrid, Vienna, ect.)

Borysthenis is the 'oldest' (Hypatē - the lowerest & first string on the lyre); has curly brown hair and dark green eyes

Apollonis is the 'middle' (Mesē - the middle string); has Apollo's blonde hair, but straight, and dark eyes (crow-like, even... >;3)

and Cephisso is the 'youngest' (Nētē - the highest string); has poofy black hair and silvery-blue eyes

Hypatē has a comfy sort of style, such as sweaters and sandals

Mesē likes to wear aesthetically dark clothes with silver accents

Nētē wears blouses and loose jackets

one time they highjacked the sun chariot and got away with it by pulling the puppy eyes

they have demigod children in CHB

Asclepius

the baby

died at 15- still treated like he's 10

snuck onto the Argo mission at 13

Idmon and Orpheus played pass the babysitter with Jason

He kicked Heracles in the shins once for "trying to steal my dad's stuff!!"

Atalanta and Asclepius were buddies

The Boreads played games with him to keep him occupied

went on the Calydonian Boar Hunt to make sure Atalanta didn't 1) hurt herself; or 2) kill someone

he grew up in the beginning stages of CHB

in 'camp' with him were: Jason (the oldest), Atalanta (raised by bears), and Hippolytus (it was his boarding school).

Theseus dropped by sometimes and Asclepius was able to smuggle his way into his belongs so he could visit Athens. just because :)

Jason and Atalanta freaked out and they and Hippolytus went on a 'quest' to find him

Phoebe the hunter is his favorite sister

he befriends snakes quickly

he died at 15

his death pushed Phoebe into distancing herself from her other siblings

when he was resurrected, he wasn't allowed to see Apollo

his only visitors in his prison medical school is his wife and children. he hasn't seen or heard from his father or any sibling in centuries.

has his mother's shiny black hair but his father's curls as well as his bright blue eyes

Aristaeus

the REAL baby

has anxiety

severe imposter syndrome

pov: all your siblings are great and wonderful and accomplished people. and you made cheese and honey :)

mom and dad were very proud of u ofc but you feel like you didn't even do much

especially when your cool older brother went on the Argo mission even though he knew he would die (RIP Idmon)

gets easily defensive over agriculture (specifically the innovations and how they have taken over the Good Ol' Days's way aka his way)

(he got that from his dad <3)

he also got his dad's blonde hair, but in a honey tone. his skin tone is also darker and closer in shade to Cyrene's

makes really good charcuterie boards

hangs out in the Midwest

visits his mom in Cyrene, Libya (he is a good son ty)

(ironically) mice are his favorite from his dad's sacred animals

he hates locusts though

don't u love it that apollo's number is 7 and he has 7 immortal kids...

[lollystocks]

The New Kid

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Day 3: White Crow

Summary: Danny continues to mind his own business whist freaking out everyone around him with his mere existence.

A short "Cryptid Danny" fic, with a twist.

Words: 509

CW: mild horror, mild body horror

---

"White Crow": a member of a group who is different from the rest. Elaya vorona (бе́лая воро́на) in Russian, kalāg-e sefīd (کلاغ سفید) in Persian. Similar to English's "Black Sheep".

---

The New Kid was exceptionally unnerving.

Friendly enough, if one got the chance to talk to him - which was kinda rare. He was territorial and kept to himself which, fair enough. But he never really seemed interested in getting to know anyone.

But despite being, on the surface, a pretty normal New Kid, there was something very wrong with him.

No-one could put their fingers on it at first. And no-one liked to talk about it. Because how could you talk about…that?

His eyes, for one. A nice, normal, luminous green for the most part. But when he was tired, or distracted, they would… they’d dull. Lose all traces of light, and just go empty. They’d flicker back on as soon as you’d caught it, and one might chalk it up to a trick of the light. He’d smile a normal smile, and you’d forget you’d seen anything. Or maybe, try to forget.

His teeth, too. A perfectly average maw of razor-sharp fangs. But he covered his mouth with his hand when he smiled or laughed. If one looked beyond that, they might see - or rather, sense - a jaw of blunt, flat, incisors and molars. Prey’s teeth. Mortal teeth.

But prey shouldn’t fill you with such discomfort. Should it?

He was probably just developing his shapeshifting skills early. That was probably it.

Youngblood swore he’d seen him drift through a wall, once. In the Ghost Zone.

Youngblood was hardly a reputable news source.

All the same.

Then, then, there was his voice. How sometimes (always when he was tired or injured or distracted) he’d talk and his voice would just… dampen. Vanish into nothingness. No echo, or reverberation through the ectoplasm around him. Nothing to carry his words through to other ghosts. And, once, again, everything would reset, and he’d be a normal ghost.

There was a theme - moments of flatness, dullness, of disconnect. Moments of mortality.

The worst one was when he would breathe. He wouldn’t even hide it. After a territorial spar (which he took way too seriously) he’d float there, victorious, and his chest would expand and retract like some wet, dying thing. Bodies weren’t meant to move like that. Not after death.

And it wouldn’t be so bad if he was weak.

Freaks came and went. There was enough variety amongst ghostkind that any one, or even multiple of these things, could be brushed off.

But the New Kid was strong. Stronger than any of them. He’d been around for no time at all and defeated every one of them in combat, even the strongest of them. His abilities were coming in fast, too fast, and he had too many. No ghost should have a portfolio that large, and know how to use their new powers so well.

He got better with every fight. 

They were training him, without realizing. Feeding him.

But there’s the rub. To back off, to withhold from indulging in one’s Earthly Obsession, to bow to his obscenely large territory? The thought alone was obscene.

And what would be the repercussions?

[cicidarkarts]

In Idrees character bio or something it calls him the grey rat of his family. Do you think you can expand more on his family. I think that he does have an uncle shown in one of scenes with him but I want to know if you think more on idrees actual family. Do you think he had siblings? Did he have any sisters? What influenced him to join the Taliban?

So I have a ton of thoughts on little Idrees and what his home life was like. Before we get into all of that depressing shit, let's see a cute sketch of little Idrees :3

Baby 😭😭 And I'm not going to lie. I don't know what the grey rat of the family means. I'm not very good with Google (some of y'all are wizards) so my results didn't yield much fruit. However, I can make an educated guess by the description of "insignificant and useless", and various other idioms like black sheep and white crow, to mean he's an outcast. Unusual, doesn't fit in, either overlooked in the best case or used as the family scapegoat in the worst case. He was neglected and, imo, very abused. Much more info below the cut tw: child abuse, domestic violence (violence against women and children)

CiCi hand jumpscare. Found this lil dude at a Halloween party and had to have him :3 He sits on my desk now I think Idrees was the only male child in a long line of girls (I think 3 sisters). Because of this, he was held to impossible standards as a child, with particularly toxic male attitudes of what a man "should" be in the highly patriarchal and sexist culture of Afghanistan. But Idrees struggled to be what his father/baba wanted him to be. He was bookish, scrawny, meek, and averse to violence.

"You wasted my time, teaching me things of no worth."

His baba would never be proud of him for book learning. Being intelligent didn't save him from the wrath of his baba's iron fist. That's why I think he made this "teaching me things of no worth" comment. To Idrees, all of the knowledge he accrued amounted to absolutely nothing in the eyes of his baba. I like to think he was actually extremely intelligent, working at grade levels quite above his own, as Idrees would bury himself in studies as a way of escapism. He could get praise and adulation from Nurullah and his other teachers that he couldn't get elsewhere. From a young age, Idrees was witness to his baba's volatile behavior. His baba would fly off the handle at the slightest provocation, very clearly a product of the culture of his own shitty upbringing. He kept Idrees, Idrees' sisters, and his mama under his boot, and would commit violence against Mama jaan, who got the worst and most of it. When Idrees was about 8-years-old, witnessing Baba going off on Mama jaan yet again, he jumped in to help her. This was the first of a long bout of physical abuse he endured (and my headcanon as to how his tooth got chipped). Excerpt of how I think this played out found below.

His lil chipped tooth cute as hell tho

He never did anything right in the eyes of his father. Idrees didn't like to engage in violence and was seen as cowardly. Idrees kept to himself and was seen as weak. If he ever stepped out of line of what boys and men are supposed to do, his father would attempt to demean him by calling him a little girl. He was never allowed to be his authentic self. Eventually this spilled over to the rest of the family. Idrees became a scapegoat, and his family avoided him or joined in on the abuse just to appease their baba. Mama jaan tried to pretend he didn't even exist, as any time she came to Idrees' defense, she would be "put back in her place". It became easier to turn a blackened, blind eye. His baba was a Talib. Of that, I have no doubt. Naturally, Idrees would also join the Taliban, in an effort to prove that he was just as capable, just as much of "a man", as Baba. But the violence often inflicted on civilians and women scared him, and his baba became more and more disgusted with this as time went on. Idrees has never been able to discover who he actually is. As a person. As a man. It seemed no matter what he did, he fucked up. Baba always harped on about how much of a disappointment and a failure Idrees was. And Idrees started to believe it. Since defecting from the Taliban, fleeing the violence and the war and his terrible life, Idrees was left to pick up his pieces. He cut his fingers trying to solve the puzzle. Fear has kept him from finishing it, leaving an incomplete picture with pieces that don't seem to fit, his blood smeared across the rest. Even after the war claimed his father and uncle, their marks and bruises remain, tender to the touch. It's all too easy for Idrees to press on these bruises and feel their sting once again. All too easy for him to believe he deserves it.

Excerpt (~1k words & 4 min reading time; tw: graphic depictions of violence against women and children): With a sick pit in his stomach, Idrees recalled one of the many times his mother had been working to the bone. Their crappy little clay and brick home sweltered through the summer heat. The plain salt and pepper and cumin smells of his mama’s cooking wafted through the thick air, interspersed by his sisters arguing over something he didn't really understand (boys or their shared clothes).

Not that he cared to understand. As a young child, hardly eight years old, he threw himself into his studies. Stacks of books enveloped him as he lay on his stomach in his corner of the room, skimming over the same words he'd been trying to take in all afternoon. The quiet peace of school allowed him to concentrate but the chaos of his home was altogether different—distracting, soul-crushing.

The only refuge was his invisibility. If they ignored him, they didn't yell at him. If they didn't yell at him, he could project himself into his own world for a while. A world that soothed his weary mind with bright blue skies, fresh loam, clean running water, surrounded by people who didn't hate his guts.

That illusion shattered when he smelled burning. His mother cursed aloud; pots and pans banged and scraped. Bile rose up in his throat. He swallowed it down, trying to ease his trembling, sweaty hands as they closed his textbook.

“Baba will be home any minute,” said his eldest sister, voice laden with nerves. “This is all your fault,” his youngest spat.

He watched as his youngest and middle sister fought again over who was to blame. But even as the youngest of all of his siblings, he was well aware that Mama would be the one to catch Baba's ire. All of the bickering halted when the door opened. His sisters backed off as Mama tried to salvage what she could, her arms moving wildly as she stirred and scraped the pot.

Baba's large, imposing form stood in the threshold of the door, blotting out the light of the gleaming sun. His scraggly stubble wriggled alongside his nose as he sniffed the air. Those frigid blue eyes stared like ice into the back of Mama's head.

“Woman,” Baba demanded, slamming the door shut, “can you do nothing right?” “I'm sorry,” Mama pleaded. “I was distracted, I didn't mean to—” “Shut up! Spare me your excuses. I work hard all day and you can’t even have a decent dinner ready for me when I get home.” “I’m sorry,” Mama apologized again—but no matter how many sorrys she chanted, they fell on deaf ears. Baba approached her, his dark eyes sending chills down Idrees’ spine. “You know what happens when I don't come home to a hot meal.”

Idrees and his sisters kept their distance. His sisters hid behind their hijabs, shielding their eyes from what was to come. Idrees normally shut his eyes, too. He would clap his hands over his ears and internally recite words from his textbooks. But today, seeing his mama's defeated, horrified eyes watching his baba, something else bubbled up from deep within him.

Baba hurled a fist into Mama's face. She crumpled to the floor, disoriented, huddling down to protect her stomach. That bubbling thing erupted out of Idrees like a volcano. He threw himself in the way of the second hit, blocking Mama with his body. Baba’s knuckles connected with Idrees’ shoulder, heavy and excruciating like he’d been fighting another man and not his defenseless wife. Idrees flinched but kept himself between them, arms outstretched to keep Baba away from her.

“Stop it, Baba!” he cried. “What do you think you're doing, you little rat?” Baba spat. “Shouldn't you be reading your stupid books?” “Just leave Mama jaan alone!” “Idrees,” Mama cooed, grabbing his shoulder. “You don’t have to—” “No, no,” said Baba with a horrific chuckle. He gazed down at Idrees with his crooked teeth displayed in a malicious smirk. “Let him. If he thinks he can defend women, let him try. Go ahead, boy. Hit me. Be a man for once.”

Idrees’ heart thrashed like a terrified cornered animal in its cage. Baba was huge and plump from Mama's cooking. He stood with his belly exposed, laughing like it was a big joke. Idrees knew he was scrawny and unthreatening, arms like little twigs—something he’d been demeaned and berated for all his life. But he threw back a little fist and bashed it into Baba's gut as hard as he could. Baba let out a grunt behind his clenched teeth.

One of his sister’s gasped, then everyone went silent. The stillness of the house made goosebumps race up Idrees’ arms. His father's nasty, horrible glare burned into his memory—chilling eyes, teeth bared, staring into Idrees’ soul like a wrathful god.

He didn't say another word before slamming his large knuckles into Idrees’ mouth. One of his rings cracked against Idrees’ teeth, sending shocks of pain throughout his skull. Idrees staggered but before he could either fall or catch his balance, another hit battered his eye.

Things went black. His ears rang, muffling Mama begging for Baba to stop. When his senses returned, he was on the floor, his mouth flooded with coppery blood, his left eye swelled shut.

“Let that be a lesson to you, boy,” Baba said as he trudged away to his usual spot. “Women aren't even worth the blood you'll spill.”

He shouted orders at his sisters and demanded his mother get food to him in thirty minutes, “or else”.

Idrees was left to pick up the pieces of himself, his Mama only able to give him a tear-filled look before being forced to work. Idrees quivered to his feet, ears still ringing, mind bleary. Despite the room spinning, he tried to help clear out the burnt food. The second his hand touched a rag, Baba demeaned,

“What do you think you're doing, rat!? Are you a man or are you a little girl!?”

He stumbled away, logical thought slowly dissipating from his disoriented mind. He tried to get to his corner where textbooks and stories awaited him. His legs were so heavy like they were weighed down by boulders. He fell to his knees as pinpricks dotted his peripherals.

Somehow, he was able to cast the weakness aside, crawling toward his turrets of books. He hid himself away and was, by the grace of Allah, ignored for the rest of the night.

[erivroom]

MDZS Shapeshifting Cultivation AU plans

this is mostly just a note for my future fanfic writing, because I have a lot of fic ideas surrounding these ideas and plan to link this post in their notes. posting this publicity for any feedback (pls i beg any ideas) and if anyone wishes to use this as well for fics go ahead!!

Non-cultivators do not have animal traits. These traits come through by learning shape-shifting cultivation.

Not only is it extremely difficult to learn to hide their traits, it is extremely rude to do so for many reasons. The main and biggest reason is hiding your traits as a cultivator is like a big “fuck you” to your ancestors.

While there is A LOT of genetic factors, that is not always the case. The genetic factor is usually just upon the main clan families. A cultivator can never gain traits from the main clans, so they are seen as mythical beings even within this universe.

For rogue cultivators it’s USUALLY random, and can even be from the outer clan types. This is because somewhere in their family tree far back there would have been someone from this clan.

Cultivator children born within a main clan branch have their animal traits from a very young age, and they do not typically change beyond a FEW exceptions. If these changes ever happen, even to outer branching families it’s seen as negative, as they have “abandoned” their clan.

Qishan — Wen family are wolves, outer branches are based on house dogs

lmao wwx is scared of dogs it’s perfect

Wen Rohan — Black wolf (like a Tiangou)

Wen Chao — Brown wolf

Wen(Zhao) Zhuliu — Asian Black Bear, often confused as a dog bc he was taken in by the Wens and all that

Wen Ning — Siberian Husky

Wen Qing — German Shepherd

Wen Yuan — Rabbit (??? i’ll explain it in the fic. maybe. maybe it’s better to just leave it a mystery LMAO)

Yunmeng — Main Jiang family wild/big cats, otherwise house cats

Jiang Fengmian — Leopard

Yu Ziyuan — Spider

Jiang Cheng — Lynx

Jiang Yanli — Tiger

Wei Wuxian — Black Fox

Wei Changze — Maine Coon

Lanling — Main Jin family are Peacocks, otherwise birds

Jin Guangshan — Peacock, normal coloring

Jin Zixuan — Peacock, normal coloring

Jin Guangyao — Peacock, white coloring

Qin Su — Peacock, Red coloring, was thought to be a phoenix so… yeah that. happened.

Mo Xuanyu — Peacock, Charcoal/Black colored, often called a crow to belittle his heritage

Jin Ling — Qiongqi

Xue Yang — an actual crow

Qinghe — Main Nie family are Qilin, others are other horned beings (deer, moose, sheep, ect.)

Gusu — Only main family are Dragons, others are bunnies (how does this make sense? it doesn’t but it just is how it is.)

Also, eastern dragon, not western. Wormji.

Lan Wangji’s mother was a White Long-tailed weasel.

Other

Song Lan — Black bat (it’s funny bec–)

A-Qing — a mole

Baoshan Sanren and her disciples become Nine-Tailed Foxes through cultivating. One of if not the only exceptions to changing attributes the cultivation world has ever seen. Nobody knows how it’s done, and only her disciples have ever become nine-tailed foxes.

This pisses off the Wens no doubt, because they think as canines the Nine-Tailed Fox should belong to them.

Cangse Sanren was a grey nine-tailed fox

Xiao Xingchen was a white nine-tailed fox

Fics based on this post

none yet, I’ll add my links when I post them though if anyone else uses this post and wants me to add their fic link feel free to let me know!

You can use the ideas in this post without credit, I’m fine with it ^^

[ruhorih4ra]

Ladies, gentlemen AND non-binary sheeps, it is with great pleasure to inform you that I've finished my fanfic. 🐸🎩

Please, picture me as Spongebob screamin YES! to that hot fish lady. Without further ado, enjoy.

GET OUT OF MY WAY 🌈

Even before you opened your eyes the voice of Satan cursing someone had reached your ears, threats and promises of a slow death left the mouth of the Avatar of Wrath. However, the moment you opened your eyes the first thing you saw was Sc.

Resting on a bed, just two meters away from you, Sc was wide awake, lying on her side and dressed in a loose blue robe as if she were actually in a human world hospital; For a brief moment you thought that was the case, the room seemed oddly human style. “Good morning, Mc.” She said, smiling brightly. You couldn't stop looking at her nose, a white patch covered most of it but the bruises around her eyes were evident.

“Where are we?” You asked, your senses still a little numb. “In the Devildom, this sickening room is just another unnecessary idea of Sc.” Satan replied, successfully startling you when you realized how close he was.

In fact, you were on the same bed. He was also wearing a blue robe, but he looked way healthier than the black-haired woman. “Satan? Why are you here?” You had to turn slightly in order to properly seeing him.

“He's already healed. He just wants an excuse to be close to you.” Sc offered unamused, Satan glared at her with killing intentions that disappeared completely when he turned his gaze towards you. “Sc stabbed me in the stomach, this sanctimonious prig thought she could get rid of me,” A soft blush colored his cheeks before he hugged you, resting his forehead on your back. “We found you gravely injured. I thought it’d be best for us to be together.”

Sc's eyes rolled back while Satan strengthened his embrace. “Why did you stab him? how? I thought you had a pact with him.” You instinctively took Satan's hands in yours.

“Hey! He almost ripped my scalp off! Don't look at me like that. You're scary even now.” Sc said. “What do you mean you thought we had a pact?” Satan asked, finally breaking the hug.

“What do you mean he almost ripped off your scalp?!” You asked Sc first, quickly turning to Satan and glaring at him. “Satan?”

The Avatar of Wrath alternated glances between you and Sc, with the sudden silence the room became even more eerie. Your accusing eyes weren't helping either. “Sc is a secret agent who is part of an organization dedicated to investigate paranormal activities in the human world. She came here to investigate Diavolo's business with the three legged crow group, gathering information just to use it against us.”

“Of course you’d say that! Now I'm the terrible villain and you are poor demons who are in danger!” Sc sat up, ignoring her wounds, leaning forward with an accusatory gesture. “See? We were only protecting ourselves from this monster.” Satan said solemnly.

“She is a spy?” You turned completely towards him, he nodded in response. “And you didn't tell me anything?” You asked, this time Satan's face showed the sincere realization that he had screwed up again. “Bbut I tried.”

“Coming at me in your demon form is not trying!” He ran a hand through his hair. “You were in your demon form too!”

The door opened at that moment, Mammon walked in with a bouquet of flowers, two big get-well balloons, more gifts than he could carry, and a pair of red, swollen eyes that indicated he wasn't having a good time. “Hey! How's Mc doing?” The barrier of gifts he was carrying blocked his vision. “Ya better be taking good care of them, Satan.” He put the gifts on a table that happened to be in front of the bed where you were.

“Mammon.” You called him. The heart of the Avatar of Greed skipped a beat, he moved as fast as if he had seen coins flying. “Mc! You're finally awake!!” He pushed Satan away and hugged you, the gentleness of his embrace surprised you. “Mammon? Did you know that Sc was a spy?” You felt his body tense for a few seconds before relaxing again.

“Ya know what? I think I should leave, Lucifer's gonna be real mad because I kind of stole his credit card before comin' here!” He tried to break free from your arms but they managed to keep him in place. “You knew?” You repeated.

He sank into your arms again, some part of him imagined that embrace as the last one in a long time. When he replied, he sounded sad and defeated, resigned even. “I did. I'm sorry, Mc.”

He backed away until his back was against the wall. “I want to say more but I think after everything that happened everyone should be here.” Mammon said. A quick glance at the demon was enough to know the miserable state he was in.

You sighed, suddenly very aware of the situation. “If you’re already cured you shouldn’t be here, Satan.” Sc watched intently how the 'heartbreaking' scene unfolded in front of her, with the way the blond demon was looking at you, everyone might have thought you asked him to rip out his heart with his own hands. “Actually, I still feel sore.”

“You know, Mc? I was very embarrassed to report that ‘The Seven Princes of Hell’ were madly in love with the human they hay kidnapped.” All three heads turned towards her, when nobody said anything Sc continued. “Do you want to know how many times I had to listen to Mammon trying to confess to you?”

“Hey! Shut up, witch!” Mammon was red all over his face and ears. “Really Mammon? that's pathetic.” Satan shook his head with disappointment but Sc hadn't finished speaking. “Pathetic? you forced me to accompany you to the human world so someone could read your hand and tell you if Mc and you-” “STOP RIGHT THERE BEFORE I KILL YOU, SC!” He shouted, the redness even more evident on him.

“I thought they were torturing you, manipulating you, using you as their private slave. That or a public demonstration of the differences between humans and demons,” Sc looked you in the eyes. “but even now one of the most famous demons cries at the prospect of leaving your side.” She concluded closing her eyes, a satisfied smile on her face. “I think you should recover first. Then, we can leave.”

Those words washed over them like holy water, a mix of emotions displayed across their faces. Satan felt very ill then, he was sure something was wrong with him, he couldn’t find any wrath inside him only a feeling of dread. His hands subtly touched the place where SC had wounded him, although he knew there wasn’t even a scar left. But something ached, something inside.

He didn’t feel your hand on his cheek until he saw your worried face. “Are you okay, Satan? Maybe you’re not healed yet, you look sick.” He realized then that maybe it’s you what hurt, it’s the little demon he never was, crying because you’ll go. “Come here, you need to rest.” You changed places easily, inviting him to lay on your chest.

He hugged you tightly, at least he wanted to be able to engrave that moment in his soul, just so he could remember it later when you were gone.

“Witch?” Mammon murmured to Sc but she only shook her head. “Ugh! No, I won’t stab you.”

***

At first, Mammon's words sounded like the most reasonable thing to do, such a mature and out-of-character act. Later you realized your mistake. Coincidentally, from that day until you recovered, the brothers and even the prince and his butler took turns to visit you. Beelzebub and Belphie visited you together, Satan and Asmo sometimes appeared at the same time. There was even a day when Mammon, Leviathan and Lucifer arrived one after another. Not even once did they all gather in the same room at the same time.

Simeon arrived one day looking happier than usual, he stood at the door and cleared his throat. “It is my pleasure to inform you that we are complete in purgatory hall once again!” He stepped aside and Luke and Solomon appeared doing the pose of Ruri-chan. While Solomon seemed satisfied and cynical, Luke was dying of embarrassment, he held the pose for half a second before running towards you with childlike joy. “I missed you, Mc.”

“I missed you too, Luke.”

They stayed for a long time, Solomon recounted silly and unimportant details of his trip while Luke spoke non-stop about his time in the Celestial Realm. You enjoyed it, truly, but you couldn't ignore the shadow that overcasted all the happiness around you. Nobody else noticed it, or at least they were better than you at ignoring it.

The elephant in the room.

***

You whistled long and loud when Mephisto appeared. You thought he would get annoyed and scold you for your lack of decorum, but he smiled and bowed. “Thank you! Thank you! You're very kind, thank you!”

“Mr. President, what have I done to receive such an honor?” You read that Diavolo had given the promotion to Mephisto in person, exchanging a few words of consideration towards his dear friend, the whole emotional moment was captured in a special narration written by the president of the Newspaper club himself. “I'm just doing charity work, sick homeless people are my weakness.” He said as he took a seat beside your bed.

You gasped, overdoing it a little. “I see you’ve grown a sense of humor!”

He rolled his eyes but never stopped smiling. “I'm just stating facts.” Mephisto wanted to hug you, after knowing everything you had been through and seeing your condition he couldn't shake the feeling that you would be gone in the blink of an eye. You were human, not a demon.

Accepting that took him a while, but when he did he also had to accept that he wanted to be around you as much as possible. He merely put his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. “Thank you.”

You put your hand on his, the fabric of the glove as soft and neat as ever. “Why? don't you know it is just plain, simple courtesy?”

I LIVED SHEEP

@yuumaofc @asmolover1234 @gallantys @prefesro @urminebutidontwantyou @fiveofspades @exrellian @cutestpatoootie @fandumshippr @frenchmess23yo @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf

Part 24 Here!!!

[midorishinji]

Enfant terrible

The nanny who used to look after me called me “enfant terrible”. She cried bitter tears whenever she had to wash my clothes stained with beetroot, borscht, pomegranate; she said I was like a little savage, an animal wearing the skin of a human being. When we talk about someone, we often refer to their skin as a metonym; to get into someone’s skin is to feel for them, while to get under their skin is to annoy them; by the skin of one’s teeth is similar to a hair’s breadth, to be dangerously close; risking your skin is taking a gamble at something; in some cultures, being the skin of the Devil is synonymous with evil and aggressiveness, a typical Judeo-Christian character flaw.

Original work ｜Also published in Portuguese and on AO3

a.n: Might be blasphemous. Sorry in advance.

I’ve been cursed from birth.

I always knew, from early childhood, that there was something nefarious about me, a cloud of toxic miasma that hung over my head, suffocating anyone who got too close. In every room I enter, my reflection in the mirrors always seems distorted; crows follow me as if they sense that I am made of bad omens; when I walk down the streets, other people avoid me, and don't look me in the eye, as if they know exactly what kind of creature I am, even if they can't express it in words.

When they baptized me, they dressed me in white with a braided belt around my waist, and they placed a rosary of mother-of-pearl beads around my neck. I still wear the rosary every day as a reminder, as a hanging man's knot, but the belt fell apart as I was submerged in water. I heard that the most religious relatives gasped in pure horror, and some even fainted: a belt like this is a symbol of a bond with religion, with goodness, and knowing that it came undone showed exactly what I was: a black sheep, a stray, someone who does not belong to this world or to the Other World. A damned, degenerate existence, in which even after the Final Judgment, my prison will be to remain and to wander eternally between the worlds, without belonging to any of them.

Someone knocks on the window. Pebbles are being thrown against the glass. — What do you want?

— Let me in.

— Later.

The nanny who used to look after me called me “enfant terrible ”. Not in a good way, I assume: I was a baffling child, ahead of my time, dangerously intelligent, but too presumptuous for my own good. She cried bitter tears whenever she had to wash my clothes stained with beetroot, borscht , pomegranate; she said I was like a little savage, an animal wearing the skin of a human being. At school, other children whispered about me, and I remained in the last seat in the last row, my name never uttered during roll call, as if I didn't exist. A ghost in human skin.

The skin is one of the most interesting organs of a human person. It regenerates periodically, serving to protect precious internal structures — muscle, fat, nerves, bones, organs — and to regulate temperature. When you get hurt, what bleeds is the dermis, the layer of connective tissue below the epithelial cells, which are the ones that actually cover the surface of the body and organs and cavities; it needs to go deeper to hurt. When we talk about someone, we often refer to their skin as a metonym; to get into someone’s skin is to feel for them, while to get under their skin is to annoy them; by the skin of one’s teeth is similar to a hair’s breadth, to be dangerously close; risking your skin is taking a gamble at something; in some cultures, being the skin of the Devil is synonymous with evil and aggressiveness, a typical Judeo-Christian character flaw.

Again, we return to biblical themes. According to the Orthodox Church, every human being goes through an exorcism in their fight against sin: sin is instinctive, as if it has been engraved in our DNA since the times of Adam and Eve; I wonder if, because we are made in the image and likeness of God, if He also feels this way, if He also sins, if He also hurts, if He also makes mistakes, if He also feels the dread of existing capable of making one go crazy, if He is also fallible as we are, or if He has transcended this imperfect state of mortality. When I was thirteen, a nun searched my body for the stigma diabolicum after I asked her all these questions, but she could not find any mark of a Faustian pact. I was expelled from catechism classes when I dared to offer pity to the supreme diabolical figure: in John Milton's “Paradise Lost”, Satan is not a villain, but an anti-hero, the tragic figure of decadence, the one who made an irreparable mistake, although necessary to the narrative: if God is the supreme creator, He also gave birth to his greatest enemy and predicted the Fall and Hell. For the story to proceed according to divine plans, someone would need to be the villain, the Tempter, and this almost martyr-like figure also deserves forgiveness. Mark Twain once wondered who dared to pray for the sinner who, more than anyone else, needed salvation.

Pebbles against the glass again. I open the window, impatiently. — What do you want?

— To talk. Let me in.

And I let him. I granted him permission, and we sat — not face to face, like two equals in a normal conversation, but he facing me, looking at my back, while I watched him through the mirror's reflection. His reflection seems less distorted than mine, more human, more normal. The window is still open, and the cold wind coming in makes me shiver underneath my clothes. I keep combing my hair. Deep down, I know that the answer wasn't necessary, just like the question: I let him in when I started to doubt, still in the womb. I have always been a terribly rational creature, like a curse; I think of the faith that moves mountains as a trick to be unraveled, in the same way as magic tricks in a circus show. In me, decrepit dissent flourishes.

He begins to play the melody on the piano, deft fingers passing over the keys with agility and dexterity at some moments, with purposeful carelessness and slowness at others, in the rhythm of the song. A familiar one. The same as always.

— If you could choose… — he asks me, without stopping playing — Would you have bitten the apple?

— Without thinking twice.

I would have condemned humanity to the same fate as Adam and Eve. I would have done so, out of curiosity; out of thirst for knowledge; and, perhaps, for love. No matter the reasoning: I would have done it. I would have accepted the weight of responsibility and resigned myself to the role of fallen. I would have given birth to a bloody lineage and perpetual punishment.

—Then I will pray for you, Porcelina, the light of all that is good, the light of all that is true. — was what he replied, satisfied but melancholic. Whatever the substance we are made of, the both of us are the same. Like two effervescent stars, bubbling toward self-destruction, we pray for each other's salvation. His touch is sweet, so exaggeratedly sweet it turns around and becomes bitter like burnt sugar at the bottom of the pan. When our lips touch, it's sweet, and warm, caramelizing me inside.

[loquaciousquark]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @shadoedseptmbr, and for the first time in how many years I have something to share! :D

From the princess AU:

On the whole they traveled well together, which surprised Fenris. He had known nobility who fainted at the sight of mice, who raged at certain textures in a dancing glove; he had not known what to expect from a princess brought down from her mountain and betrayed. But Hawke kept pace with him without complaint, if not without effort, and did not ask him to slow even when the meals grew thin, even when she pulled her boots off at night to reveal blisters that bled when she touched them. Even when the heat became terrible—when even he, Tevinter-raised, grew hot—she could only be coaxed to stop when her red-cheeked face went suddenly white, and she had to wait with her feet in streamwater until she had recovered.

Instead she told him stories of Kirkwall’s foundries, of the ancient miners who charted the tunnels and bored holes into the mountain itself. She hummed working songs as they walked, rhythmic and strong as axes striking stone. She showed him her tunic and her satchel, pointing out the difference between wool from a lowland sheep and that of mountain goats, and laughed when he could not remember and guessed wrong at her asking. The days went, all things considered, as well as he could have wished.

The bad nights, therefore, were made all the worse by contrast. He had slept so long alone in his private rooms in Starkhaven he hadn’t realized the nightmares had not stopped. 

He woke one night to a hand on his shoulder, shaking him roughly. He could not place the woman’s voice in the dark—he didn’t know where he was—the name she called was wrong, jangling in his ears. He gripped the wrist, squeezed—she yelped—he tensed to kill—

“Fenris!”

“Your Highness,” he gasped, recoiling. He released her wrist as if burnt; he could still feel the unspent power in his fingertips, roiling and tumultuous. She knelt beside him in the dark—not quite black—nearer dawn, sky’s edge gone grey—her eyes were very wide, and she gripped her wrist to her chest. “I’m sorry, I—forgive me. I didn’t…”

“I should rather hope not,” she said acerbically, but she helped him when he struggled to sit up and brought him his waterskin. “I would have been happy to let you thrash about all night, just so you know, but then you started shouting, and I thought that if you didn’t call down all interested parties in the world by yourself, the flock of crows getting just as loud about you might.”

And from the fic I just started last night without any idea what it'll look like yet:

“I’m forwarding instr—Dr. Naidu. If they’re not—en minutes call m—”

“Will do. You’re breaking up pretty bad, Miranda.”

She grimaces, and as if on cue, the call drops. He waits a moment just to see if she’ll try to call back, but when she doesn’t, Garrus silences the ‘tool and leans back in his chair. Too small, too plastic, not at all meant for anyone with the slightest curve to their spine. He’s already cracked the back of one gripping it too hard, and even if Dr. Rothefort had only smiled at his apology, it had been a painful reminder he was trapped on all sides by the almost ludicrous fragility of the human race.  

Except—here they are. Alive, along with Shepard, along with more of Earth than Palaven. “Damn it,” he says aloud, and he scrubs the heels of his hands over his eyes.

“Tough day?”

“Shepard,” he gasps, rocking forward in the chair so suddenly the spindly metal forelegs almost give way. Her eyes are open again—well, the left one, anyway, with the right still black and swollen shut. “I thought you were asleep.”

Her smile is so weak it hurts. Even her voice is thin as thread. “I’m busted up, Garrus, but I’m not deaf.”

He snorts, but when her fingers twitch he takes her hand immediately. “Sorry I woke you up. You have enough morphine in those drips to knock out a krogan. Should’ve known it wouldn’t be enough.”

“Cerberus,” she sighs, and her eyes fall shut. “Biotic metabolism. Resistant to everything now.” She lets out a long, slow breath, then looks at him. “Death, too, I guess.”

“I’m not complaining.”

[waitingforwinterwinds]

ASOS; Steel and Snow: 07 JON I (pages 91-104)

Jon meets Mance Rayder for what he discovers is the third time.

-

"And when I'm free," he said slowly, "Will I be free to go?" "Sure you will." She had a warm smile, despite her crooked teeth. "And we'll be free to kill you. It's dangerous being free, but most come to like the taste o' it." She put her gloved hand on his leg, just above the knee. "You'll see." I will, Jon thought, I will see, and hear, and learn, and when I have I will carry the word back to the Wall. The wildlings had taken him for an oathbreaker, but in his heart he was still a man of the Night's Watch, doing the last duty that Qhirin Halfhand had laid on him. ... "They don't care much for that beast o' yours," Longspear Ryk said to Jon. "They're dogs and he's a wolf," said Jon. "They know he's not their kind." No more than I am yours.

So Jon's holding onto his identity as a brother of the Watch, for now, which is expected given he's literally just started his first foray into espionage.

It's going to be interesting in seeing his mental struggle with "indoctrination" into the wildlings. It's not like they'd be doing it maliciously, but Jon staying with them means he has to be one of them in some capacity.

And his risk of "going native" is actually higher than it might be otherwise, because he's holding onto Qhorin's order so strongly. Because he was ordered undercover, he has an excuse for integrating himself with the wildlings, where normally there might be even a mild reluctance for certain facets of engaging with their culture, Jon has the mental excuse "I'm doing it for a reason, it's for the cause" so his engagement is potentially going to be higher, more... enthusiastic, we could say.

It's like people who think they're immune to propaganda, that assumption has actually removed some wariness that would have slowed the effects, and made them more susceptible to it.

But not all he saw was warlike. He saw women dancing as well, and heard a baby crying, and a little boy ran in front of his garron, all bundled up in fur and breathless from play. Sheep and goats wandered freely, while oxen plodded along the riverbank in search of grass. The smell of mutton drifted from one cookfire, and at another he saw a boar turning on a wooden spit.

And there's another thing that's dangerous for his convictions to return to the Watch: that the wildlings are so obviously just people. not evil and constantly malicious or hungry for battle, but people with their own normal culture and lives.

"The free folk"

... oh no, another songfic chapter :'(

I have this thing with songfics, where I end up reading them two or three times, just because my brain can't decide which input to accept: narration or song lyrics. And the thing is, when done correctly, the lyrics are supposed to punctuate and accentuate the narration, as we saw in the last chapter with Sansa's new pawn status reveal being backed up by the turning fate of the maid from the maid and the bear song.

... black steel... hmmmm.... nope, doesn't count. half because they didn't say the magic words, but also because we can't be sure it was anything more than coloured steel.

"This boy?" The earless man was angered by the news. "the Halfhand should have been mine. Do you have a name, crow?" "Jon Snow, Your Grace." he wondered if he was expected to bend the knee as well. "Your Grace?" The earless man looked at the big white-bearded on. "You see. He take me for a king." The bearded man laughed so hard he sprayed bits of chicken everywhere. He rubbed the grease from his mouth with the back of a huge hand. "A blind boy, must be. Who ever heard of a king without ears? Why, his crown would fall straight down to his neck! ha!"

"Sorry, I don't know what Mance Rayder looks like. I've only met one king before, and based on him I thought kings just tended to be the ones who had to have their demands and opinions heard first." Jon shrugged, "and they can probably have as many or as few ears as they want."

*shudders in second-hand embarrassment* seriously, they could have just described Mance before hand, or Ygritte could have given him a subtle poke and told Jon that Mance was the singer.

Well, at least he didn't kneel like in the show, that felt worse somehow.

He wore wool and leather, and his only garment of note was his ragged black wool cloak, its long tears patched with faded red silk.

... His cloak from the Night's Watch? Like obviously it wouldn't just be thrown away, not north-of-the-wall were every resource needs to give the max use first, but for it to be kept and patched so he's wearing it even now... cause how long's he been gone from the watch? years at least right?

Where'd the silk come from though? A raid south of the wall? Cause afaik, silk worms don't like the kind of temperatures you see with snow.

Good material choice though, silk is an amazing thermal regulator, and makes a great under layer in cold weather. Top it with wool and you're all toasty. Stupid expensive though, which is understandable given how it's made. (... I wanted to say 'greebled wool' but that is not the correct phrase XD)

"Our ferocious chicken-eater here is my loyal Tormund. -"

Giantsbane!?!? !!!!! TORMUND!!!! ahem, I'm fine. Sorry, I just enjoyed his character in the show.

"- And here also is Tormund Thunderfist, Husband to Bears, -"

Oh good, and there was me worried the only queer rep was Loras and Renly, who... well Loras is a twink for sure.

"By wing? We have no trained ravens here. No, I knew your face. I've seen it before. Twice." It made no sense at first, but as Jon turned it over in his mind, dawn broke. "When you were a brother of the Watch..." "Very good! Yes, that was the first time. You were just a boy, and i was all in black, one of a dozen riding escort to old Lord Commander Qorgyle when he came down to see your father at Winterfell. -" ... "- When was the other time?" "When King Robert came to Winterfell to make your father Hand," the King-beyond-the-Wall said lightly.

Ohhhh, surprise backstory connections!!!

Mance, Robb, Jon, and the pile of snow is the cutest shit. (Though you do need to be careful with pranks like that, snow is heavy, and dumping a huge amount on people can hurt them, but they were so smol, so I'm sure it wasn't that much snow.)

"The Halfhand was carved of old oak, but I am made of flesh, and I have a great fondness for the charms of women... which makes me no different from three-quarters of the Watch. -"

Mance Rayder confirms 25% of the Night's Watch is gay or ace.

("Or bi!" well, no, because they'd still count in the three-quarters who like women.)

"- And she sewed up the rents in my cloak as well, with some scarlett silk from Asshai that her grandmother had pulled from the wreck of a cog washed up on the Frozen Shore. It was the greatest treasure she had, and her gift to me."

Ahhh, that's where the silk came from.

Jon took another swallow of mead. There is only one tale that he might believe. "You say you were at Winterfell, the night my father feasted King Robert." "I did say it, for I was." ... "And did you see where I was seated, Mance?" He leaned forward. "Did you see where they put the bastard?" Mance Rayder looked at Jon's face for a long moment. "I think we had best find you a new cloak," the king said, holding out his hand.

Round of applause for Jon 👏👏👏 That was some excellent thinking under pressure, and, he technically didn't lie, by virtue of Not Answering the Question.

He asked a leading question about an unconnected subject which he had reason to be angry about, and which could easily be taken as an answer. I do wonder if Mance knows that, and if he's just accepting that for the time being Jon is one of them, because he does sense a kindred in him, or if he's fully and completely fooled.

It's an interesting juxtapose as well, to go from Sansa and her new "allies" and Jon and his new "allies," I think I might trust Mance more than I trust Olenna, TBH, but that might be my bias against Olenna, and the fact that Mance's goals and objective are more transparent. And we're off to Dany next, who also got new "allies" of her own last we saw her. So we'll see how that goes.

[katboykirby]

Love love LOVE these. Absolutely stellar design, I am obsessed 😍

I also have some answers for you about Belphie's animal symbolism! Sorry in advance for what's probably gonna be some yapping (please just lmk if you want me to delete and I will)

Belphie's animal isn't actually a cow, it's a bull. I totally understand where the confusion comes from, but bear with me! 🙏

If you look at the tapestries in the Student Council Chamber (the very first thing we ever see in the original game) you'll see that each banner has one of the brothers' animals depicted on it, from Lucifer down the line to end at Belphie.

In order; peacock, crows, snake, unicorn, scorpion, locust, and bull

Looking closely at Belphie's tapestry on the far right, we can see that it is definitely a bull, and not a cow.

Now, I'm not surprised that cow imagery (in the form of classic black-and-white cow spots) is used in Belphie's design. It's immediately recognisable and still ties him directly to his actual animal, the bull.

What I feel is the most likely reason behind this decision is that bulls don't have a specific pattern or markings associated with them. If bulls were used to dictate his design as literally as the cow spots have been used, half of Belphie's wardrobe would just be solid brown. Not only does it lack visual distinction and would be boring to look at, it wouldn't convey anything about his character or connect him back to his animal. Cow spots would be a logical choice of alternative, while still keeping the bull association by extension.

It's worth noting that Belphie also wears a metal horseshoe on his demon form outfit, and his horns are shaped like a ram's instead of like a bull's - even though he isn't associated with horses or rams (although bulls also wear metal hooves on their feet!)

This suggests that Belphie draws design inspiration from the ungulate family of animals in general (horses, bison, cows, bulls, goats, etc) while the bull remains his main, direct counterpart.

I have a theory that another possible reason why Belphie's animal isn't a sheep or ram is because a sheep is used to represent MC, the player. It's not impossible that Belphie could have been planned to have more sheep symbolism (and his ram horns could be a remaining artifact of this concept) but was changed when the decision was made to have a sheep represent the player instead. We don't have a clear timeline of the concept stages from back in 2017, but we know for sure that sheep MC wasn't the plan from the start and was in fact decided on later on in the process.

(The devs' answer to the question of why MC is a sheep)

As for symbolism - the biblical symbolism of the bull feels absolutely perfect for Belphie:

The bull (or ox) symbolises:

Burdens

Self-sacrifice

Redemption

All of which are important, central aspects of Belphie's character. Belphie literally wouldn't be Belphie without these exact themes.

Even the note about hard work (which comes from the Gospel of Luke) might seem contrary to Belphie's lazy and slothful nature - until you realise that going against the predetermined nature of their own sins is a major part of the brothers' stories. Confronting themselves, their sins, and what has become of them after the Great Celestial War.

Sorry again for the long addition to your post 😭 I am absolutely OBSESSED with your demon Belphie design, like I love it soso much. I just thought I'd answer your questions about why his animal is the bull instead of a sheep or ram.

true demon form concept for Belphegor :D

I'd say a bit about my headcannons for this form, but i already want to redesign it, so i'll do that when i draw him again lol

i've never really liked Belpie's symbol being a cow- it has no deeper meaning unlike Lucifer's, Mammon's, or even Beelzebub's. Cows most commonly symbolize earth or femininity, which, well, doesn't really have anything to do with him.

Changing it to a sheep is a much better, in my opinion. It'd give his attempt to convince MC he's human like them too a few more layers, since they'd both be represented by sheep! And his betreyal too, i suppose; "Wolf in sheep's clothing" and all that jazz.

[mortalfaerie]

like a thief in the night, pt. i

aemond targaryen x oc

word count: 1.5k

description: elissa swann is the legitimized bastard granddaughter of Lord byron swann, is a minor noble lady with no stake in the succession conflict... until she quite literally collides with prince aemond and becomes embroiled in it. aemond is intrigued by elissa. she is a black sheep to house swann, a solitary child of white-blonde hair in a family famous for their raven-colored locks, her bastard nature like a brand on her. on the eve of the dance of dragons, he finds himself bound to her, come what may.

warnings: none for this chapter, some more mature content in further chapters

note: got hit with a shadow ban on my asoiaf blog, so here’s take 2 

"Your grace," she quipped, politely nodding while not meeting his eye. 

"Please, walk with me. I have an interest in speaking with you." He said, oustretching an arm for her to take. Hesitantly, she took it, and let him lead her out in the gardens outside Storm's End.

"Please, walk with me. I have an interest in speaking with you." He said, oustretching an arm for her to take. Hesitantly, she took it, and let him lead her out in the gardens outside Storm's End.

When they were ensconced between hedges, he spoke again. "You have an interesting coloring for a stormland lady."

It wasn't the first time someone had remarked upon it - Elissa had pale blonde hair where her lady grandmother and lord grandfather were both dark of hair, even in their old age - and though she never knew her father in life, Orren Swann was said to have been raven of hair as well. The outlier had always been attributed to her mother - a smallfolk woman she never knew either, who she rationalized must have been blonde to give birth to such a babe. She had her grandmother's eyes - a rich brown flecked with gold - and Lady Swann reminded every person who marveled at Elissa's fair hair of this.

Elissa had been born a bastard, given the surname Storm, but when her mother grew ill within a year of her birth, she presented the babe to the lord and lady of Crow's Nest, who claimed they knew her for a Swann as soon as they saw her. Their own son and only child, Orren, had been carried away by the summer fever that year, and the aging couple decided to claim his bastard and give her their name, legitimizing her as their heiress. While not a grand house, she stood to inherit more than many girls her age, and until she wed, it would be hers in name.

Elissa gave a polite, if tired smile. "Surely your grace knows the circumstances of my birth."

"Yes," he nodded. "I recall you were the wild oat of the late Ser Swann."

"Why does my prince inquire?" She followed up.

"It is only - I have embarked on an undertaking of great delicacy." He began, glanced at you with his good eye, and continued, "As I am sure you know, any house has had bastards at one point or another. It has come to my attention, that House Targaryen may yet have some."

She blinked. "And what does this do to concern me? My mother was of the smallfolk."

"I have not been long in the Stormlands, but I have yet to encounter a smallfolk woman with such light, fair hair."

She stopped in his path. "Pardon me, but what if it? Even the smallfolk might be promoted to leave and settle elsewhere. I assure you, your grace, my mother was lowborn."

"When is your nameday, Lady Elissa?" he asked pointedly.

"In the winter of 111 after conquest - really, what is it you mean to say?" She answered with mounting exasperation.

"If you don't mind my saying, my lady, but this was when the Prince Daemon had returned briefly from the stepstones." He said plainly.

Elissa's cheeks burned red. The insinuation wasn't flattering, and to be a bastard was one thing - to be speculated a royal bastard was patronizing. "I do indeed mind!" she hissed. "I know my father. He was a good man, Orren Swann. He died young and my grandparents took me in. I owe my life to them - I will not hear you insult my lineage!"

"Insult?" Aemond echoed, an eyebrow cocked. "Hardly. Even if bastard-born, Valyrian blood is a valuable asset to any noble lady."

Elissa balled her hands into fists. "And what would you have me do?" she whispered angrily. "Claim to be a Targaryen Princess, with the proof of my hair color? This is absurd, your grace. I am a stormlander, and one day I will be the lady of Crow's Nest. My lineage is just that - I am Andal, not Valyrian."

He grasped a lock of her hair, and she gasped at the tug. "Blonde may well be a color of Andals, but not silver. Silver is the color of Valyrians - the color of House Targaryen, trueborn House Velaryon - and the blood of Old Valyria is so strong that even my brother's bastards are silver of hair." He looked at her pointedly. "You, Elissa Swann, have the blood of Old Valyria."

"You are mad." She ground out, and pulled her hair out of his grasp. "And if you touch my person again, I do not care that you are a Prince of the seven kingdoms, I will bite the hand from your wrist." Elissa took several pointed steps back and added, curtly, "Good day, your grace."

And then she turned heel and hurried back to the keep, leaving Aemond to stare after her disappearing form, her loose silver hair glinting in the sun.

-

Much to the chagrin of her lady grandmother, Elissa claimed a headache and secluded herself in the room she had been afforded while visiting Storm's End, and opted to remain there until night had fallen. Rain had begun to drizzle on her window by then, and sleepless, she sat on the window sill, idly drawing shapes on the glass with her fogged breath. As she wiped the slate clean again with her nightgown's sleeve, she caught a glimpse of something large moving in the distance. It was hard to make out, but something on it caught the light of the full moon.

Something - curiosity, fate, sheer stupidity - drew her to the sight of it, and she grabbed her riding cloak and boots, and as quietly as she could, slipped out of her chambers. She made her way to the larger bay window she had seen in the great hall in hopes of getting a clearer view, and upon reaching it, was taken aback by what she saw. Prince Aemond - the very man she had been avoiding, was scaling the stone wall beyond the window with single-minded determination.

"Seven hells..." she murmured to herself. The candle sconce beside the window flickered, and between one moment and the next, she made eye contact with the prince as he heaved himself over the wall, not 10 feet away outside.

"No." she whispered, but it was too late - he had seen her, and she had seen him. With a twisting in her gut, she realized that there was no good reason for a royal prince to be sneaking into a castle in the dead of night. He took measured steps towards the window, and she shuffled back and hit a chair, losing her balance. In tandem, their eyes went to the latch on the window - the latch that, for no reason she knew, was unlocked. "No!" she said more forcefully and scrambled for the window, but Aemond was faster, and he shouldered the glass pane open and tumbled through.

He was soaked to the bone and hit the ground with a wet thud. His hair was stringy and sticking to his face, but when he looked up, his eye was wild.

She felt a yelp building in her throat as she scooted further backwards, unsure of what to do.

"Don't," he wheezed, "scream. Don't."

It was absurd. Every fiber of her being told her to get away as fast she could, but he saw her trying to stand and lurched.

"I told you no!" he hissed, pinning her to the ground.

"Why?" she said in a harsh whisper. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't yell right now!"

"Because a war is already on the horizon and it need not start in Borros Baratheon's dining room!" he bit back, and she flinched.

"I need to go get something, so I need to get off you - but if you try to yell i'll not hesitate to gag you and leave you in an alcove, Lady Elissa."

Elissa shivered, but she didn't protest when he eased off of her and offered a hand. She begrudgingly took it, and pursed her lips together.

She trailed him as he slunk through the halls, keeping to the perimeter and slipping past a dozing guard. They reached the larger suites that the Prince had been assigned during his stay, and he held the door for her to follow him in. She did, wringing her hands in a tell of nervousness for the situation. He slid the bolt in the door home and leaned against it.

"I don't understand - why did you have to crawl through the window in the night? You are a guest here." She said quietly, feeling her pulse jump again when he met her gaze.

There was something desolate and determined in that look. "Because," he said, his voice hoarse. "Lucerys Velaryon is dead. When in a few hours he hasn't returned to dragonstone, the Princess Rheanyra will come down on Storm's Landing with the force of her militia, and I need to be in King's Landing before then to warn my mother."

Elissa couldn't breathe for a moment.

"How," she forced between a dry heave, "Do you know he's dead?"

"Because," he said plainly. "I killed him."

[prctty-birdie]

Happy Halloween!🎃✨

May you meet Death today?

Made for the one and only @toguchindraws , hope you like it!

(got a bit carried while writing and finished doing three whole different versions about your prompt; also got a bit too long, I guess? Sorry for any mistakes; I tried my best to make sure everything is right and make sense, since it`s been a while I`ve wrote something other than essays in english.)

Part of the 2022 Hellcheer Gift Exchange, hosted by @helloween-gift-exchange

Tags: Scared mortal, Otherworldly chauffeur, No Vecna, The Mummy(1991) elements used, AU where death have diferent servants to take souls into the afterlifes, Egyptian Mythology, Eddie is Anubis, Chrissy can see the other side, sheningans ensue, Mentioned Abusive family, Chrissy make a new crazy AND powerful friend, Jason is going to places.

“When darkness falls across the land, the world turns upside down, in a mysterious lullaby;where death, his angels and other devils are all wandering out here  just waiting for lost souls.....”

Christine "Chrissy" Cunningham or as her boyfriend Jason calls, "Chris" always has some kind of "other side" problems. She could see when a kind of shadow with no actual form, started following people and when this happened; a few days or even a month later (just once, the most long and successful witnessed by her) the said person would die.

She started seeing them after her grandfather, by mom's side, passed away.

At just the age of eight years old, remembers vividly how in peace he looked, when he closed his eyes and the shadow came out by the wall on the side of his bed at the hospital; just stretched his hand in the direction of his body and a second later with a blink, disappeared and the machinery started beeping.

The following days passed like a blur, she remembers telling her mother about this and she didn't care; probably thinking this was just her daughter`s imagination and when her grandpa's funeral happened she saw more of these shadows gluing themselves into the adults steps. Gradually, she started seeing them more often to a point where predicting bad things happening around became easy as breathing.

When turned fifteen, she noticed there were some kind of dogs or wolves as they seemed to look, with various sizes just as big as cars and little as sheeps, with dark red glowing eyes. They could see her staring and usually would just sniff at the direction she was walking by , but never exactly bothered to come close or chase….

1986

Well, this was her year of graduation and everything was running smoothly - thank you very much - except today, for three single-headed and weird facts:

Waking up to a crow screeching in her window, he had red scarlet eyes and let out a scream before flying to somewhere;

Missing the bus to school;

Suddenly and without a thought accepting a ride from this dude who could be a psycho killer by the looks and his expensive car (a damn Chevy Bel Air 1955 Black and Chrome, that she only knew because of mr. Richard Harrington; who lives ten blocks away driving one around when he's on town)

Well, maybe this was supposed to be her bad day; the Universe surely loves her to make this happen! anyway, she trailed off in thought until hearing the dude at the driver wheel (to whom she didn't trade a single word with since entered the car, could swear was some kind of vampire by the pale-white skin tone and didn't even introduced herself) started speaking in this low and bewitching voice.

- Miss Christine Cunningham, what a beautiful day; don`t you agree?- his voice sounded kinda emotionless while eyeing her with a knowing smirk- guess I wasn't supposed to be here to take you. - Chrissy`s head started ringing a bell at this sentence and she almost broke her neck, turning her head too fast to look at him entirely - But my curiosity just took the best of me, I guess…

At this moment he stopped in front of the school and looking through the window, there was no living soul walking around with also a weird mist, blocking some spaces of the outside view. Which was surely weird because she saw the bus passing by and right that her house is the last stop, before the bus goes directly to school and the mist was just weird; surely there weren't any drop in temperature and the sun was shining very bright today when leaving home.

Okayyyyyy…. 

Maybe this was her year of death and not the perfect-graduation-before-marrying-her-high school-sweetheart, but at least was going to be happy very far from her abusive mother and ignorant/absent father kind of freedom. Except for the fact she traced her brother's fate and will let him suffer the same twisted shit as her. It's too late to regret now, she can only pray that some other biggest force helps him.

The man started laughing (this cute half sweet and funny, kind of) and she may have or may not hold her breath; while lost in thoughts waiting for him to recompose himself after getting out of her own head.

- I'm sorry - he says with a shining and charming smile,before turning to look at her (maybe she went crazy today, but his eyes were a red scarlet like the dogs but with a gleam of knowledge like the crow at her window this morning, at least for a second seemed). With a blink his eyes were this chocolate brown, but the gleam stood there, he seemed to devour every detail of her avidly. He just offered his hand to her and when she went for a handshake, he took her hand making the way to his lips and leaving a little kiss at the back - I`m sorry - he seems to say this word way too much - my lady; but how impolite of me, to not present myself correctly to such a sweet woman as you! - he still held her hand, but the compliments and too formal way of speaking made her heart beat faster, with a little bit of red showing on her cheeks.

 - I am Anubis, guardian of the underworld and one of death's angels…

 - WHAT?!?- Chrissy just bursts out, before containing herself and now scared with all her being. While the supernatural being in front of her just seems to enjoy her reaction and waits patiently for her to calm down.

- Exactly what you heard, my lady; - she still can't believe this dude looking like a rockstar, seemingly to just have got out of one of those magazines such as Rolling Stone is THE egyptian God of underworld and afterlife. Well, it's just like this old saying: “Never doubt a bad event, cause things tend to get way worse; faster than a blink of an eye”. Maybe she's just hallucinating the whole thing? She pinch her leg and yep, this hurts and she's surely awake.

 - Okay, so…. What exactly do you want from me? I mean, I`m just a mortal as you can see and I don't exactly have anything to offer out of the ordinary. - he raises his hand as a signal for her to stop speaking.

- Lady Cunningham, I know you; I've heard enough from the shadows, so many stories of you to just make me curious enough to plan, want to come out of my house and meet you personally. My subordinates are amazed by the fact you can see them and always wanted to come closer and speak with you; but that`s explicitly against our most ancient and important rules. I deeply apologize on behalf of them, if they ever scared you or even chased you around; they just didn't know what to do or how to react to you seeing them, unlike all the other people.- he never let go of her hand while speaking and seemed disappointed after speaking about this essentially -  But, even breaking the rules death gave us and all,  I'm here to also make an offer….. - he looks directly to her like there`s nothing except her soul and could read her deepest secrets without even thinking too much.

She is still scared, not only because he's an egyptian god but because the world out of this space seems to have stopped the clock of time and is very empty. 

- Eternity is something so boring, especially if you can't be seen by other people; so, what I want to offer you is very simple: you can spend some time and keep me company, when you're free from your obligations and in return I can give you rides to anywhere, at anytime - and there it was, the glint but this time; seems like some kind of trap or especially making a deal with the devil himself in exchange for her soul. - So, what do you say?

Well, this wasn't exactly what she had in mind when he offered a ride to school (more like a murder, to be more exactly). But at least he seems to be good even being a powerful god and seems lonely. Well at least she wasn`t trading her soul for some crap and maybe even win a true friend (who knows?);

- Deal. So I can pet the dogs,crows or whatever they are now and they will not try to kill me? - He tried to mask his laugh with a cough and it didn't work.

- By Ra`s sunglasses! PLEASE, tell me you didn't try to pet any of them? - he teased softly and humorously.

- Yeah, I did when I was nine, but it was JUST once!- Chrissy tried to hide her blushed cheeks and failed- So, you have a deal and I want to know, how will you contact me? and if we're gonna hang out, we`ll need a new name for you. Anubis is weird for literally anyone, except if it's a dog- he seems concentrated and trying to find an answer to both questions. Then he seems to remember something, searches his pockets, until he finds a ring inside his jacket and asks for her hand again with a gesture.

-Have you ever heard the story of a place called Hamunaptra?-she shakes her head in a silent “no” - It's an ancient city; now it's buried and forgotten in the Sahara sands; used to be my domain and was called the City of the Dead, used to be the house to my bracelet; An antique necropolis which was the final rest to pharaohs and their families. - he puts a golden ring with the format of a scorpion, with a jackal head with his sting ready to attack, in her middle finger - this is a little copy of my bracelet, with it you can summon me or go to any place where I am. - he gives her a little proud smile, while she just admires the ring and traces its form with the fingertips; before putting her own hand in chest and enjoying this warm feeling of matter to someone. But she fastly snaps out of her short trance to ask:

- What about your name?  we`re still stuck here. - sounding a bit impatient and worried, he just shakes his hand dismissing her worries. 

- Well, that's the easiest part; you can choose any name you want and it's fine with me. - she then remembers why she thought he looked a bit familiar, he seems almost identical to this man….but what was his name? Oh, yes! Eddie Van Halen. She snaps her fingers after remembering this. He stares at her like she's plotting some miraculous plan and waits for her to say something.

- Okay, so you`re gonna be Eddie. An old friend who lives in Chicago and is moving to Hawkins? - she looks at him to confirm and he nods a short “yes”.

- Sooo….- she tries to think of something else, like a thank you. But remain silent and just discard this thought. - See you tomorrow afternoon after cheer practice? - she smiles happy and he does the same.

- Yes,surely my lady! - he answers kinda excited - Oh! and I almost forget, just touch the sting of the ring three times and I will come as fast as I can to where you are. - he says, shaking his head a bit. He then snapped his fingers and smiled like a little kid, who just did something without the parents knowledge. - Now, you`re ready to go to your class and back to everyone, before they just panic.

With this, just as the world was waiting for a command to come back to normal. The sun shines once again softly against her face and all the mist slowly dissolves herself into thin air. She just lets out a heavy sigh of relief and opens the door, gets out and closes. Before going into the school building, she turns one last time and sees Anubis, or better, as he would be called now ; “Eddie” with the passenger window now open, sending a short goodbye with his hand. After she does the same, he yells:

- Say goodbye to Jason for me! - he uses his hand as a megaphone -  because he's literally not going to live enough to see tomorrow comin` - and as fast as he can; he just rolls up the window again, turns to the exit of the parking lot and goes away. While Chrissy is just standing there, in shock, not having processed the last sentence he just dropped on her; while watching the black Bel Air getting smaller in the distance and slowly thinking:

[As weird as this can be, I think we're gonna be great friends and well… I can deal with this shit after all]

Little did she know, after all;

they become much more than just friends….

Allies, Lovers - Soulmates.

[oraclekleo]

Black Velvet Ribbon [Seventeen Fanfic]

Nothing special, just a short thing I felt inspired to write today. I might delete it from here later on.

It's only about 2.5 k words.

Including Seventeen members, especially Mingyu, and about 3 original characters.

It's more like a comedy and fluff, so don't get too excited. 😂

Black Velvet Ribbon

Godiva insisted on the horse ride, even when Freya warned her that the guests would arrive soon.

“So what? You have a housekeeper here. Mrs. Watkins knows what to do and she will give them a proper welcome and show them around even if you can’t be there.” Godiva smiled and pulled her sister’s arm.

Freya reluctantly followed her to the stables. Ever since Godiva married, she became more laidback and carefree. It was as if she grew younger. Which was a paradox because her husband was actually 16 years older than Godiva. And yet she blossomed in this marriage. Freya would never guess it could happen to her eldest sister out of all people. Godiva used to be overly strict and uptight, she had to be. Now she laughed often, her eyes sparkled with joy and it was clear to see she was in love with her husband. Freya was happy for Godiva and her happiness. However, sometimes she felt a little envious about it. Freya knew she wasn’t destined for anything like this ever happening to her for various reasons.

Freya pulled herself up to the saddle of her black mare she named Lucrecia and looked at the sky. “It’s about to rain, Godiva.” She noticed the heavy grey clouds above.

“And you are worried because you are made of sugar and could melt in the rain?” Godiva asked sarcastically when she got seated in the saddle of her pearly white stallion Lancelot, the gift from her husband.

Freya rolled her eyes. Godiva would be the first one to concern about appearance in the past. She wouldn’t go for a horse ride before the visit and especially not in stormy weather. That day she challenged Freya for a race.

Wonwoo was naturally picked as a driver of the second car due to him having an international driving licence. He was humming as he was watching the road and occasionally checking the GPS. It wasn’t necessary, though. He only needed to follow the mini van in front of him. He assumed that the manager driving knew where they were heading. It was supposed to be some old creepy mansion at the end of the world, or better say a small island in the far north of Scotland. The company picked the place as a perfect setting for their new music video but Wonwoo would prefer something closer to home.

Joshua was sitting on the passenger seat next to Wonwoo and he looked outside the window reading the road sign. He nodded and opened up a brochure all members of Seventeen were given but Wonwoo doubted anybody actually read it.

“Crowcall Hall was built in 1678 by Lady Sybil Marion Arran,” Joshua started reading out loud. “It’s situated on a Crow Isle in the North Sea, in between Orkney Isles and Shetlands. Currently the entire population of the island lives in the Crowcall Hall, which is the only house suitable for whole year inhabitation. The village Hollow Crow was abandoned in 1922 after the local population of sheep stock suffered from disease and was slaughtered completely. Locals had no other source of income and they left the island and moved away. The Crow Isle was completely abandoned until 2020 when the heiress of the estate and current owner of the entire Crow Isle, came to the estate and started with renovations.”

Joshua looked outside and noticed they were closing to the abandoned village of Hollow Crow. It looked rather bleak and scary. “What exactly is supposed to be the concept of this comeback? World after some disaster?” Joshua whispered as if the ghosts of people who left this place could hear him.

“Don’t panic,” Mingyu spoke from the backseat. “I assume the company wouldn’t let us sleep in a ruin. Does it say anything about the house and its current state?”

Joshua looked into his materials and turned a few pages, skipping the grim history of the island. “Here it is. It says that Crowcall Hall was completely renovated and it’s planned to serve as a hotel for prominent guests.”

“That’s us!” Mingyu called happily.

“I think we are the first guests after the renovation was completed. Maybe we are supposed to be the guinea pigs and test it.” Minghao noticed and opened the roof window of the car. He watched the heavy clouds getting darker and inhaled cold air mixed with the scent of wet soil and salty sea. It felt refreshing and he already liked this place. Maybe it didn’t look pretty but the wild and uncivilised beauty of nature appealed to him more.

“Here goes my hairstyle.” Mingyu growled when the wind filled the car. He opened the window on his side as it was already late to save anything and looked around. They were going through a wasteland of moors.

“We are going to arrive at the house soon,” Wonwoo announced.

Mingyu ignored him as he spotted a peculiar thing on the moors. Two horses were running fast in the distance, their riders encouraging them to run even faster. Mingyu squinted to see better. The riders were two women. One riding a white horse, wearing white clothes and her golden hair in two long braids flowing behind her. The other was her complete opposite - black horse carried a woman dressed in black with her dark hair loosely tied up. Mingyu unfastened the seatbelt and stood up on the seat to look out through the roof window.

“Hey, hey! Be seated, mate! We are still moving.” Wonwoo called.

Mingyu couldn’t hear him as his ears were full of wind blowing fast and he stared at the two girls on horses riding towards the storm. He noticed a stone wall standing ahead of them and the next second he watched both the horses flying above it as if they had wings. They easily jumped over the stone wall and galloped towards a large noble mansion. Mingyu assumed it was the Crowcall Hall and his heart skipped realising they have to live there as the rest of the island is not inhabited. He will meet them there!

Freya and Godiva arrived back to the stables laughing. They jumped down onto the ground and the stable groom took horses from them. Freya had to bend, she was hardly catching her breath after such a ride.

“You need to practise more.” Godiva laughed. She seemed utterly fine with such a tempo and her cheeks grew only slightly pink, while Freya felt as if hers were catching on fire and she felt sweat streaming down her spine underneath her thick black clothes.

“I was wondering where you two disappeared.” The deep and calm voice belonged to Simon Archer, Duke of Yewbow, Godiva’s handsome husband and the head of the UK’s Secret Intelligence Service. He could hardly become any more perfect. Freya didn’t like him at first as he seemed cold and reserved at first sight. It was his professional mask and once he felt comfortable enough to drop it, it turned out that Simon was actually a bright and fun companion.

“I needed to move!” Godiva smiled at her husband and draped her arms around his neck offering him her lips for a kiss.

Simon instinctively placed his hands on her hips and smiled at her. “I should be concerned that horse rides make you feel horny.” He whispered against Godiva’s lips before kissing her. He lifted his head with his chest heaving. “I’m not concerned enough to say no to you.”

Godiva giggled, grabbed his hand and pulled him inside.

“Your guests arrived!” Simon called Freya over his shoulder. “They are settling in, there were no problems.” He managed to say before Godiva dragged him into the house.

Freya nodded and decided not to imagine what Godiva and Simon are going to do for the upcoming hour or two. She reached her hair to fix them with the black ribbon she put in this morning. “Oh no!” Freya realised she had to lose the ribbon while riding. It was her favourite one. It was black velvet ribbon decorated with silver embroidery and rimmed with black lace and white pearls. It was a gift from her sister Grace and Freya was deeply attached to it. She should go welcome the guests but she’s already late, nothing will change if she looks for the ribbon first now.

Freya started to go back her tracks and hoped the ribbon fell off somewhere near. She was searching on the pavement around the stables but there was not a trace of it. Freya moved to the garden through which they rode back. Searching in the grass was a bit more difficult. She bent down and brushed through the wet grass with her fingers but she found nothing. “Where are you, you blasted thing?” She moaned for herself. If she lost it somewhere on the moors, she will never find it. Why did she even agree to race with Godiva?

“Are you looking for this?”

Freya turned quickly to the unfamiliar voice and stood in front of a handsome, tall, dark stranger. He was holding her black ribbon in between his long slender fingers and swaying with it temptingly.

“Ah! Yes!” Freya tried to grab the ribbon but he lifted up above his head. She couldn’t reach there. Freya wasn’t exactly short but he was still taller. “It is mine.” She said and looked into his dark gleaming eyes.

“How can I be sure? Close your eyes and describe it in detail to me. If your description fits, I will trust you it’s yours.” He said with a slight cheeky smile.

Freya frowned. What kind of game is he playing here? She would start to argue with him but something in his eyes told her that it would be quicker to play by his rules than to try to put him in his place. At least for now. Freya rolled her eyes before closing them. “It’s a black velvet ribbon,” she started with the description and tried to recall all the tiniest details.

Mingyu smirked and started circling her. He was checking her thoroughly while she was describing the piece of hair accessories. She was relatively tall, Mingyu would guess her to be over 170 cm tall, she was slender, maybe too much for his taste. Her cheeks were still burning from the horse ride and her dark brown hair was falling down her back like a dark chocolate waterfall. She was wearing a thick black turtleneck, black tight riding trousers and black riding boots. She was clearly nervous because Mingyu noticed her fingers shaking a little. He stopped behind her back and started to divide her hair into three streams. He nearly chuckled when she twitched and gasped. “Carry on, don’t stop.” He told her, the black ribbon hanging on his neck while he started to braid her hair.

“And I don’t know how to put this more clearly but it’s a black velvet ribbon and it’s mine.” She finished at the same time Mingyu was done braiding. He fixed the end of the braid with her black ribbon and then put it on her chest so she could see her ribbon back in her hair. “You convinced me,” Mingyu whispered to her ear, fanning it with his hot breath.

She stepped away from him and turned to face him. “But you didn’t convince me, sir.”

“We just met,” Mingyu said calmly and stepped closer to her again, “give me a bit more time.”

“Please, be a gentleman!” Freya took a step back again.

“Make me!” He dared her while walking towards her again.

Freya kept on walking backwards but then she hit a tree trunk and couldn’t escape. “You shouldn’t do this.” She said.

“What exactly am I doing? We are just talking, aren’t we?” Mingyu put his hands on the tree around her head and caged her there.

“I won’t talk to a man who’s not a gentleman, sir.” Freya replied and pressed her lips.

Mingyu looked into her baby blue eyes. Then he stepped away from her. “I beg your pardon, ma’am. Please allow me to escort you back to the house. The weather in the garden is too cold today.” He declared, half serious, half sarcastic. He offered her his arm so she could hook into it.

Freya watched him with mixed feelings. It would look ridiculous if she refused and walked on her own to the house while he would go in the same direction. She took a deep breath and hooked her arm with his. They walked through the garden together and Freya could feel his eyes on her face. She made sure not to make eye contact with him again. His eyes were making her nervous in a completely new and unknown way. Her skin felt like buzzing with electricity and she felt her ears burning. It was foolish! There was no reason for her to have a dry mouth right now. Freya instinctively licked her lips and heard his breath getting stuck for a second. She made a promise to herself never ever to make eye contact with him and lick her lips again. Who is he, anyway? One of the guests, obviously. Why did she even agree to have some korean boy band here? She was doing a favour to her sister Victoria who married a Korean idol and actor and lived in Seoul with him, that was why. These family ties were causing her troubles lately. First Godiva made her lose her ribbon and now Victoria indirectly made Freya feel the entire zoo in her stomach because of this mysterious stranger on her arm.

They finally arrived in the house and Freya jumped away from him as if she was stung by a wasp. “I’m sorry! I haven’t introduced myself.”

“Neither did I.” He said. “My name is Mingyu. Nice to meet you.”

“Mingyu… Right! I’m doct… I’m lady Freya Arran. Welcome to Crowcall Hall. I hope you have a pleasant stay. Now excuse me. I have to check something in the kitchen.” Freya made a curtsey which was unnecessary and she felt like a complete fool afterwards.

Mingyu played along, though and bowed to her deeply and theatrically. She quickly left, nearly running to the kitchen.

“Here you are!” Joshua stepped to Mingyu. “We have wondered where you went. Now I see you were searching for chicks again. Who is it?”

“She said she was lady Freya Arran.” Mingyu replied and he reluctantly followed Joshua to reunite with his members.

“Seriously? You are on a hunt for 10 minutes and hit on the owner of this entire island? Man! I wish I knew your tricks!” Joshua laughed.

“I didn’t know that…” Mingyu said lost in his thoughts. So she was the owner of this place. Why would she go all the way to search for such a trinket when she could clearly afford to buy hundreds of ribbons? Was it a sentimental thing for her? Was it a gift? A gift from a man? A gift from someone she loved? And that someone wasn’t Mingyu. For some reason it felt like a truly bitter pill to swallow. Jealousy? Why should Mingyu be jealous? He barely knows the woman. He has no right to become jealous. And yet he felt the thorny spike of jealousy hurting him deep down.

[w2beastars]

Waezi2′s thoughts on “Beast Complex” chapter 10.

No surprise that there are cults in the world of “Beast Complex.”

Our hero of today’s short is Ebisu who is an albino crow. Like a lot of white animals, he lives in District Ø.

The problem with being a “bright” (an animal who is completely white) is that there is a marked for their fur/feathers. There are even animals who has a preference of eating someone who is white from top to toe(like the Lion Mafia boss who wanted to eat Haru). So a lot of white animals chose to live their life in District Ø to try and stay safe.

But the neighborhood is essentially a cult. Only white animals live there and the whole town is white as well as well as illuminated by lights to make the white look even whiter(which explains the many shadows). The “brights” are obsessed with their precious fur that it makes them narcissistic.

It is most likely a state of mind that the animals of District Ø has adopted to better handle the fact that they are “trapped” in the district... one that makes them douchebags.

Ebisu is not happy about living in District Ø. In fact, he hates it. He feels that everyone he lives with are shallow and he is frightened by this sterile place.

But he meets someone who has every single reason to hate the place even more than he does.

This albino kangaroo is nicknamed “Orion”. One of Ebisu’s friends explains that she is called that since she is actually not a bright, she has black spots around her crotch that looks like the star constellation, hence her nickname. Ebisu is first confused why his friend knows that. But the friend just smiles and says he knows since he has seen her birth marks, just like most of the males in District Ø.

Yep. Orion is sleeping with males in the district to be allowed to stay despite not being totally white.

In frustration, Ebisu goes to a playground and throw himself in mud to get not-white and dirty. But he doesn’t get to stay alone as Orion coincidentally walks by and observe the albino crow who seemingly has lost it. That makes Ebisu even more angry since it is Orion who has triggered him since he consider her the most shallow of all the animals who lives in District Ø. And that’s saying something since most of the animals are pretty full of themselves.

Orion explains that she was looking for Ebisu since she overheard him asking about her and she assumes that the crow wanna sleep with her as well like everyone else. She says that she will do it since the guys in the district association has told her that the condition for her to stay is that she will offer her bodily services to the males of the district.

Yep, she is forced to be the hooker of the brights because of spots.

Ebisu is stunned by this cruelty. As Orion talks, Ebisu thinks about the stars on the sky that he can’t see because of the many damn lights that illuminates the white little town. How badly he want to see them and how he has decided not to see Orion’s “stars” like the way the other males does.

It is appropriate that this little moment between Ebisu and Orion takes place at a playground. After all, why is it that little boys pull little girls' pigtails on playgrounds?

For the same reason Ebisu throws mud at Orion and awkwardly laughs at his own bad joke. Orion doesn’t think Ebisu is funny at all and slaps him.

The next day we see Orion at work as a milk saleswoman. The lama she sells banana milk to tells her that one of his “senpai” wants to meet her later.

So yeah, that’s how little respect Orion gets. A dude wanna screw her and he doesn’t even ask her face to face. He just tells one of his bros to go and tell her to come see him later.

Fucking asshole. One of many.

Ebisu arrives before she agrees to it and even insults the lama by saying that he is a crow who wants actual protein filled milk and is not a “kiddo” who sucks banana juice.

Besides insulting the lama’s masculinity, Ebisu want to apologize for acting like a dumb kid.

The kangaroo and the crow goes for a walk as they talk about District Ø. Orion tells Ebisu that she was not born with spots, they came when she was about twelve. And that it was her parents who thought it was okay for the district leaders to deem her a prostitute.

Orion is an essential part of a cult or any other toxic communities. She is the black sheep in a VERY white herd of sheep. By having her in the district, she makes everyone feel better about themselves and they are very aware that she is all the males’ “toy” because she is allowed to stay in District Ø where she is safe from animals who wants to kill her for her white fur. So it is established that being white makes you better than everyone else and living in Ø is a blessing.

It’s cult 101.

Even poor Orion agrees that she is lucky to be allowed to stay as she is frightened of the world outside Ø where white animals gets murdered and skinned. Ebisu on the other hand thinks the small white world of the “blights” is even more scary.

But as they walk and talk, they don’t realize that they have walked outside their district. They only realize it when they can finally see the stars since there are no bright lamps to obscure them.

... That, and some extremely not-white animals ambush Ebisu since he as a albino crow is worth a small fortune.

This splash page is the heart of this little tale since this is the moment where Ebisu on first hand faces how scary the outside world actually is and that he is a target as a bright. And Orion realizes that she is a strong kangaroo whop can just kick threats away. And she saves Ebisu by not just kicking the assaulter away, she does it in a way so the crow can see her spots.

It reminds me of when Louis showed Juno his prosthetic leg. It’s a sign of trust and opening up about something you are ashamed of. Something you are okay with sharing.

Establishing their bond and trust in one another, Ebisu and Orion runs away from the sterile District Ø and toward the Hidden Condo where they start a less safe but probably happier life.