#name should have been changed eons ago but i had no idea what to change it to

[holographic-bone-jester]

adam-loves-dinosaurs -------> holographic-bone-jester

[melliae]

The Last Boss in Persona 3

This is more of a continuation to my previous post (in Tumblr, here) about the meaning behind the Universe arcana. This post will follow the same main idea of my previous one: to analyze the meaning of final boss within the series through using esoteric and psychoanalitical concepts.

Now, before analyzing everything, it'll be better to first summarize the final boss' lore:

“The mother of all Shadows and bringer of death since ancient times. If she awakens, ‘the Fall’ will occur.” - Persona 3 Portable (I wanted to use the japanese version, but I haven’t found any perfect save for P3P/FES in japanese, or a ISO for Vanilla)

That’s almost everything that the game says in relation to what Nyx is, and it’s just a repetition of what Ryoji explained in December. There’s some interesting comments the cultists give during January, like how it “will change the flow of causality” or is an “Absolute Will” (“普遍の意志”, or “Universal/Omnipresent Will”), but their nature is obviously biased. It’s not until the release of the P3 Club Book that its lore becomes clearer, and which I’m going to summarize as it follows:

Nyx” is not actually called “Nyx”, but it’s a nameless entity classified as some sort of “Star Eater” that, eons ago and in a dormant state, crashed against the hadean earth (4.5 billions of years ago).

Due to both its dormant state and it’s strange material composition, existing between “mass and information” (similar to the Velvet Room), both the earth and the Star Eater survived the impact, but not without consequences: a lot of the earth’s matter came off and covered the Eater’s body, creating the moon – the Persona version of the “giant impact theory”.

However, that’s only in regards to the body, because its psyche got separated from the body and “flooded” earth’s surface, putting at risk the existing, but primitive life (ie. amoebas) on it due to its anathemic nature.

Life, driven completely by its instinct to survive, sealed the psyche within themselves, limiting their lifespan (ie. creating death) as well as allowing their psychological development, ending in both the creation of consciousness and the collective unconscious.

As you can see, there’s a good reason Nyx is called the “maternal entity”: its very own soul is what allowed the birth of humanity and all forms of complex life, explaining why it was named “Nyx” by the Kirijos – just as the greek deity give birth to all sort of deities that shape the human experience, the Star Eater made possible its existence. The same applies to its title as “mother of Shadows”, because its psyche wasn’t only sealed within the depths of the collective unconscious by life’s drive to live, but also became an essential part of the human soul as well: their Shadow. So it’s not that “she” is the mother of Shadows, but that Shadows are Nyx, and we all know how important they are.

“The Shadows we hold in our psyches themselves are not just mere prisoners, but have become an essential part of the inner structure of our minds. Without a Shadow, a mind - especially one as highly complex as that of a human being - cannot function properly and ceases to work, as if it had been lost entirely.” – Ikutsuki, P3 Club Book

“What I released from the Trapezohedron just now was the half of that woman that could not come to life until now: her complexes, her emotional trauma–her suppressed Shadow, if you will. And you learned on the other side what happens should you kill the mind’s Shadow, didn’t you? How ironic that it was all of you who made her this way.” - The Faceless God (Nyarlathotep’s Avatar), Tatsuya’s Scenario (referencing Yukino’s end if her Shadow jumps into the abyss).

“If we erase a Palace, there is no doubt that the person’s distorted desires will be erased as well. But desires are what we all need in order to survive. The will to sleep, eat, fall in love–those sort of things. [...] If all those yearnings were to vanish, they’d be no different than someone who was shut entirely. They may even die if they’re not given care.” - Morgana, Persona 5

The shadow men, apathy syndrome, mental shutdowns, and psychotic breakdowns… All of them are manifestations of what happens when the Shadow of an individual is disturbed or destroyed: the collapse of the individual psyche or soul. That means it’s equally valid to affirm Nyx is the origin of both all Shadows and souls in the series, becoming even clearer when see how the personality module of the anti-shadow weapons, their “papillion heart”, is made out of plumes of dusk, crystalline fragments of Nyx’s body. This is further strengthened by Sho Minzauki’s second personality, born out of the plume implanted on his brain, and Metis as the Shadow of Aigis, bearing the name of Athena’s mother and her Persona being the embodiment of the soul in greek mythos.

It’s easy to see, then, that Nyx is not just “another god” (without the intention to diss Izanami, Yaldabaoth and the rest), but a primordial aspect of the life’s collective psyche (ie. the unconscious). That’s why it’s called the “Universal/Absolute Will”, for “she” is all around life and humanity, being the “ground of being” from which all their potentials come from, for even the very own power of Persona is nothing but something derived from the “small Nyx” acting as the foundation of one’s psyche. Even the capability to alter space-time and reality inherent to life is derived from it, even in Tadashi’s trilogy.

“Mitsuru: These people are Persona Users who appeared in “Megami Ibunroku Persona”, “Persona 2: Innocent Sin” and “Persona 2: Eternal Punishment”. As far as we can see from what’s been shown on television, they seem to be living peaceful lives right now. [...] Akihiko: Still, those guys are Persona Users, right? They have the potential, yet I haven’t heard anything about people like that trying to help out with the things that have been happening here in the Minato Ward… Mitsuru: Well, you have to consider that not all of them might be Persona Users any longer. [...] According to the staff, in our game, the “Value of Life” is defined by the sudden changes in time and space that our wills can bring about. We’ve already explained that Shadows have the ability to manipulate space-time, so the same might be true for those they dwell in, us living beings.” - P3 Club Book

“From the first, people have had a tremendous power in their souls over the flow of reality. [...] Yes… The power that created your world is the same as your inner strength… In this collective unconsciousness, it’s possible.” - Philemon, Innocent Sin.

Even the plumes of dusk, and thus the body of Nyx, have the same properties to alter reality, and emit readings similar to “living beings” despite being deadly to life on earth.

While it’s pretty clear how encompassing Nyx's lore and nature is, it’s important to keep in mind that most of this, at some level, was implied or said by the games. Side material like the Club Book just clarifies what was shown in the Journey, the Answer and even Arena. So now, it’s time to really analyze the beast this eldritch abomination is.

The Golden Egg

Now, it’s just common sense to begin with the mythological foundation of the games: greek mythology, and in particular Orphism, a branch which acted as a mystery (ie.secret) cult mythological founded by Orpheus. It preached, in basic terms, about the findings of the poet after he returned to the land of the living with wisdom about the nature of the world, its cycle of death and rebirth, and how to break from it.

It’s unknown if there’s a cycle of reincarnation in Persona, but we know there may be a similar thing based on Enlil’s quote of how “humans have learned nothing from the cycle of destruction and rebirth” during her second phase. There’s something similar in PQ, where Zen described the “providence of the world” (ie. the collective unconscious), and in the Club Book, about how the unconscious created an archetypal tale between demons and gods to protect the human soul from Nyx’s influence. However, that’s not that relevant, with our focus being more on the creation myth of the cult:

“Similarly, in connection with the raven as the name for this situation, we must consider the creative night mentioned in an Orphic hymn, which calls it a bird with black wings that was fertilized by the wind (pneuma). The product of this union was the silver egg, which in the Orphic view contained heaven above and earth below, and was therefore a cosmos in itself, i.e., the Microcosm.” - Mysterium Coniunctionis.

Within the context of cosmogonical eggs, the hindu hiranyagarbha can also be rescued, described by Jung as “the collective aggregate of all souls”. The relation between these two eggs and Nyx as the “mother of all” is quite obvious, but more important is the fact that its core is a giant, golden egg… cracked – the universe has already been born. But as I wrote in my previous post and as implied by the hiranyagarbha, the universe born out of Nyx is equal to the collective unconscious and thus humanity, harking back to other traditions in which the archetypal man is born out of an egg.

Since we now know what Nyx gave birth to the collective soul of life after “she cracked” or crashed against earth, we must ask what was it like before it crashed:

“The phenomenology of the "child's" birth always points back to an original psychological state of non-recognition, i.e., of darkness or twilight, of non-differentiation between subject and object, of unconscious identity of man and the universe. This phase of non-differentiation produces the golden egg, which is both man and universe and yet neither, but an irrational third.” - Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious

Quite self-explanatory, don’t you think so? It even explains why Nyx is an “alien Star Eater”, for its true nature is what lies in the state before the separation of “heaven and earth”, before the divide between unconsciousness and consciousness. This liminal state is even reflected in its body which exists as both information/thought and matter at the same time, in-between the physical moon and the deepest abyss of the Sea of Souls as per Elizabeth’s route in Arena (“最も深淵なる場所だ”), or how even the Club Book describes its main body as “neither organic nor inorganic” ("有機物とも無機物とも判断しかねる外見である") – completely undifferentiated.

Naturally, this brings out to the mind the jewish associations established by the Club Book and the P3xP4 Analyze, about how Tartarus represents both the seven earths Adam wandered after being expelled out of Eden and the Sephirot that comprise the kabbalistic tree of life respectively, the two symbols for the development of consciousness out of the primitive, undifferentiated unconsciousness, which even Soejima noted. The Star Eater, as the one above Tartarus, becomes equal to Paradise and the unconscious godhead, the Ein Sof, from which the tree, synonymous with the archetypal man and universe, grows out, thus being one with the deepest layer of the Sea, as previously commented.

If you remember the confrontation with its Avatar, how “he” uses the narrative of the tree of knowledge to explain the arcanas, it adds another layer to its meaning: the fruit of knowledge is a very obvious metaphor for the birth of consciousness, but also one for the Shadows as well, with both ultimately causing the birth of death (or the awareness about it). This means Nyx, as the sum of all Shadows, is the tree of knowledge and death, which makes it equal to the tree of life and archetypal man, with even Tartarus being compared to the “corpse of god being (hanged) upside-down” in the Analyze book.

“七つの地” は神をシンボライズした “セフィロ���の樹” と上下逆向きで対応しており、テベルは根本の基礎部分にあたる “イェンド” に相当する。” “The “seven earths” correspond to the Tree of the Sefirot, which symbolized God upside-down, with Thebel corresponding to “Yesod”, being the root of the foundations.”

And according to the same source, Tartarus is made out of Shadows and the psychic stratum of humanity:

“これは、タルタロスが基本的にはシャドウと同じ精神体によって構成されているからで、言ってみればその場所の記憶のようなものが構造に反映された結果そうなったもの。同様にタルタロス自体の内部構造も精神体からできたもので、タルタロス構造に取り込まれた精神体の記憶のようなものが反映されている” “This is thanks to Tartarus being fundamentally composed by the same psychic nature of Shadows, as if the memories of the research facility were reflected into the structure so to speak. Similarly, the internal structure of Tartarus itself is made up of such psychic substance, and as such it’s as if the memories of that substance were reflected and taken in by Tartarus’ architecture.”

So more reason to think Nyx, in essence, was the preconscious state of humanity and life before it crashed. It’s the unknown, unconscious godhead in which there is no difference between object and subject, acting as its own “universal individual” in a dormant, sleeping state. It’s pure coincidentia oppositorum.

Joining Opposites

“Nyx” means “night, and the night (along with darkness, dusk and many others) is one of the de facto symbols of the unconscious, along with the underworld (Tartarus). The moon being another symbol of the same thing just further confirms the Star Eater is the unconscious or it’s in an unconscious state. However, pure unconsciousness it’s not what only Nyx has to offer, for someone deeply related to it also exists: its avatar, Death, also known as Pharos.

Pharos’ name is a quite interesting, because in japanese is written as “ファルロス”, mixing both the katakana for “ファルス”, or “phallus”, and “ファロス”, or “pharos (of Alexandria)”. There’s no need to comment the masculine nature of the first word, but it has to be done in regards to the second one and its double nature, since the pharos of Alexandria acts as an obvious masculine symbol thanks to its phallic form, and as a symbol of consciousness due to the light it emits. That’s to say, Pharos is the conscious and masculine counterpart to Nyx’s actual state; Ryoji, with his casanova attitude and yellow scarf, reinforces the concept.

Now, all of that means that, just as expected, the original state of Nyx was androgynus in nature – both female and male at the same time. Some remains of this can also be seen in its core, golden and solar in nature despite being within the moon, and obviously harks back to another quote of Jung:

“The moon with her antithetical nature is, in a sense, a prototype of individuation, a prefiguration of the self: she is the “mother and spouse of the sun, who carries in the wind and the air the spagyric embryo conceived by the sun in her womb and belly.” This image corresponds to the psychologem of the pregnant anima, whose child is the self, or is marked by the attributes of the hero.” - Mysterium Coniunctionis.

Such an image is alchemical in nature, describing the nature of “Queen Luna” (a symbol for both the feminine essence of nature and Nyx) as the mother and partner of “King Sol” (the masculine essence, and in this case Death), who ultimately join in matrimony to achieve the “philosophical stone” – oneness with the world. I doubt I have to explain how the Fall acts as the “shadow” of such a process, ending with the death of all living beings. Though it’s also interesting how is related to the Avatar as such, whom only isn’t only found at the top of Tartarus or “tree of death”, meaning it acquired the same dignity as all other mythological primal humans, but it’s also androgynous in appearance – both feminine and masculine natures are necessary for wholeness, be it conscious or unconscious.

By that matter, the protagonist acts as both “Queen Luna” (gray eyes, pretty boy, “death was inside him”, and Messiah being completely white) and “King Sol”, for he, as “Orpheus”, enters into Nyx’s “eye” in an scene eerily reminiscent of what Jung wrote:

“The “eye” evidently stands for the female genitals, as is clear from the myth of Indra, who, as a punishment for his wantonness, was smitten with yonis all over his body, but was so far pardoned by the gods that the shameful yonis were changed into eyes. The little image reflected in the eye, the “pupilla,” is a “child.” The great god becomes a child again: he enters into the mother’s womb for self-renewal.” - Symbols of Transformation.

Yep… But at any rate, returning to the Avatar, his speech about the arcanas returns once again, since it includes all the arcanas from the Fool to Death, passing through the twelve intermediary ones, with each one representing one of the “hours” within a clock. This implies the Fool and Death stand outside of the cycle of time somehow, and since the Fool it’s the “beginning of life” as per Edogawa’s lecture on japanese, it’s not surprising to connect the card with an infant… like Pharos – Death itself.

Within the Avatar and Nyx the entire cycle of life is described, where both the beginning and end life become one to form a ring, a circle that can be described better as the Universe or World itself, as the Analyze book says:

“最後に発現する “世界” あるいは “宇宙” のタロットには、卵のような形のウロボロスの輪に囲まれた女性の姿が描かれている [...] 二ュクスの中心核は、そのウロボロスの形にも似ている透明な輝く卵の姿をしていた” “In regards to the final manifestation of the “World” or “Universe” tarot card, a feminine figure encircled in an egg-shaped ouroboros ring is depicted. [...] The shining, translucent egg acting as Nyx’s core resembles the shape of the ouroboros as well.”

More telling, the core, despite being the cosmic egg and having the light of creation (or “libido”, the name put by Jung to describe “psychic energy”), only uses “Death” to attack.

The Forgotten Godhead

What you are seeing is one of the first mandalas Jung created during his schizophrenia visions in 1916 or so. It’s called “systema munditotius” or “system of all worlds”, for it represents the psychic activity of all human beings at some level. It’s full of details and the like, but the more important things for now is the vertical axis, beginning with the golden egg with a human at the top, and ending with the lion-headed serpent at the bottom.

The first figure, the egg, represent the future, collective “imago dei” of humanity, the next symbol for the Self that has yet to be born and that Jung called “Phanes”, the primordial being born out of the cosmic egg within orphic myths, embodiment of existence itself and husband, father and/or son of Nyx. The second figure, the serpent or “Abraxas”, represents the past and present “imago dei”, a symbol reminiscent of the Demiurge and a bastardization of the christian god, having both a monster and a caterpillar, the promises of death and life, by its sides, and the tree of life rooted on its head (or mind)

If you begin to think, it becomes obvious what’s the relationship between the Star Eater and those two figures: It’s both. Not only the Eater is both death and a “caterpillar”, since it’s the source of all souls which are represented by butterflies in the series (see the Papillion heart and Psyche), but it’s also the cosmic egg and thus Phanes (see Ryoji). It’s the unconscious self of all humanity, forgotten and fragmented, hanged upside-down, and to which everyone has to obey

“What the god-sun speaketh is life. What the devil speaketh is death. But Abraxas speaketh that hallowed and accursed word which is life and death at the same time. Abraxas begetteth truth and lying, good and evil, light and darkness, in the same word and in the same act. Wherefore is Abraxas terrible. [...] To look upon it, is blindness. To know it, is sickness. To worship it, is death. To fear it, is wisdom. To resist it not, is redemption.” - Seven Sermons to the Dead

For Abraxas, in its primitive and unconscious brutality, is life and its origin, the endless cycle of death and rebirth, just as the Star Eater holds the Fool and the Death as one and the same. They are the flow of time, the drive that created everything from the unconscious as the savage demiurge. They are the endless conflict of life.

But in its role as Phanes, as the yet-to-be born Self, the Star Eater is the promise and realization of all beings – their meaning. However, its core, its egg, is cracked, damaged and divided, and therefore the Self of all humanity is unable to be born yet. For that, the egg must be joined once again and understood, just like Philemon said in IS and Tatsuya’s Scenario, for the egg – the Star Eater – is life.

Such transformation, at an individual level, is masterfully shown with Death’s own journey, going from a shadowy, primitive and savage monster to a kid curious about the world, and then to a teenager which loves everything life can offer from the beginning, all thanks to the journey of the protagonist and all the memories he gained. Yet, such search for meaning wasn’t enough to stop the hopelessness and self-destructivity of the collective, of humanity’s and the godhead’s yearn to return to what they were once… but the protagonist didn’t give up on and, against all possibilities, created a miracle: he was able to give meaning to life and thus to death, instauring hope in the furthest depths of everyone’s hearts.

That’s the true meaning of death within the game. It’s not about merely physical death, but also psychological death, transformation and, ultimately, hope. Death and time are the drives for the endless change within the human soul, equally givers and takers of happiness and tragedy. And with life and light, they make up the totality of the universe we know, for they are one and the same, with the rejection of one meaning the rejection of the other.

Death it’s not only a unknown hunter, but also a part of oneself, and that it’s hopefully treated as a friend even in the worst times. After all, accepting death and life as parts of the whole, to accept that everything will come and go, your sadness and happiness, it’s the first step to break off from the endless cycle of suffering and conflict, of “evil demons and benevolent gods” that are naught but a part of the human soul.

Don’t forget life brims with joy, and that you should bring that same joy to death. Live a good death!

[scalproie]

Inspiration is a loop and @kazamajun's post gave me the motivation to write a little something of my own. So. Yeah :)

---

"What should we name him?"

"Him? " Kazuya whipped his head around so fast that Jun had to raise a hand to hide a chuckle. He never spend much thought on this whole... baby situation until now, but saying it outloud made him realize that he half-expected -and in all honesty, would've preferred- a daughter. "How can you be so sure?"

"A little bird told me." At that, Kazuya raised an eyebrow. Knowing Jun, she could mean this in a very literal way.

Gods have no need for sleep, they can partake in the activity all they want but it is more recreational than necessary, Kazuya certainely has never slept before. Well, before Jun. Taking a few hours every so often to lay down and rest together was a habit she took with her from the surface. She used to hide among mortals, watch them closely and fondly, adopted their life rhythms dictated by the sun. Kazuya never understood it and told her as much, but he certainely won't pass on the opportunity those habits of hers bring to hold onto Jun quietly for long periods of time. And it was another change Jun brought that was welcomed by all denizens of Hell, as it meant not dealing with its ruler for a few hours.

That intimacy was new to both gods, but they took to it quite rapidly. Kazuya always found it easy to talk in those moments before slumber, even easier than it already was to talk with her, and Jun never failed to notice, hence why she brought up the baby topic in the first place.

"Fine then, just name him whatever you want. I've no idea why you would even ask me."

"Is it so peculiar? That I would want you to choose the name of our child?"

He's more yours than mine, he bites down. But she must have felt it either way since she laid a heavy palm on his chest.

"He will be a deity, revered the same as us, tied to the both of us. Are you sure you want nothing to do with the way he will be worshipped?"

Ah, playing with his ego, she knows him so well.

"Is there nobody you'd want to honor?" She asks, much, much quieter. And just like that, she takes him to a place much more dangerous than the heavens where his opposing siblings reside: the past. He closes his eyes in remembrance and she observes him, ready to snap him out should he get somewhere too unpleasant.

"Jinpachi," he finally spoke, she squeezes his hand under the cover. "My grandfather."

"The God of the Sky?"

"You know him?"

It should not have such an effect on him, that she would know of his family; everyone knows of the Sky, of course she would be familiar with him, she used to see it everyday.

"Kazama, the God of the Wind -my own grandfather- always spoke of him with great respect."

"He said he would always watch over me..." At that, Jun was now making soothing circles with her thumb on the hand she was squeezing. "Not that it matters now anyway."

Because his own father, eons ago, usurped the throne of his granfather and started their family's cycle of godly violence. Because the sky was now forbidden to Kazuya.

"I like that name." Her soft voice was like a lifeline, anchoring him to the present. He turned his head so his lips would be on her forehead, but nothing more. "He could be like a piece of sky down here..."

Kazuya hummed in aknowledgement, signaling the end of the conversation. She snuggled closer on his neck, and eventually he felt Jun falling asleep before him. This didn't surprised him: she looked more tired recently, her face was paler, her smile thinner... he tried his best not to think too much about it. Or he blamed it on their unborn child.

He took her in his arms, and took her in entirely, before allowing himself to rest with her, undoubtful that at least she will still be here at their awakening.

---

She was gone.

Has it been hours? Days? Weeks? Millenia?

Even if Kazuya had the ability to tell the time down there, he would feel her absence for much longer than it actually was.

She was gone.

"Then go." Was the last thing he said before turning his back on her, before she could do the same to him. Staying here any longer would kill her? Watching her leave would kill him.

(Nothing would kill him. Nothing could kill him. Never again. He had to remind himself of that.)

He sat motionless in the lush garden. He broke his agreement with Bosconovitch to aleviate his sentence should he succeed in bringing a bit of the surface down here, he send him back to whatever torture the old soul was put through before the good inventor could even plead mercy. It was too late.

That damn garden. He wanted to tear it appart. He wanted to destroy it all.

But something kept stopping his hand, what for? he didn't know, that garden was useless now, it would be better to wipe it all out, to make room for something actually of use. Perhaps his mind was being clouded by thoughts of Jun.

Of course his mind was being clouded by thoughts of Jun.

So there he sat, eyes unfocused and aura lethal, in a garden that was gradually making him feel worse on a physical level. But it didn't bothered him anyway: the pain on his skin and bones distracting him from the pain in his chest.

His scar hurted again.

"... My lord?"

Kazuya couldn't care less whichever of his servant dared to disturb him.

"What should we do with your s-"

"Don't touch it." His voice made the ground shake and the air was electric. From the corner of his eyes, Kazuya could see them jump. Good. "I will deal with it myself."

He rose from his spot, and made his way out of the garden, without so much as sparing a glance at whoever would be unlucky enough to cross his path again, the previous servant already having bolted away at his first movement. When he arrived before the room where the dead infant was placed, various souls poured out of it and scuttled away like bugs, leaving it empty for the King of Hell.

Kazuya entered, and there it was in the middle: the small body, bundled up like a corpse more than a newborn. Kazuya stared at it, this pathetic weakling, too frail, too unworthy, and reached to grab it by the neck.

His hand slowed, a feeling reaching his own neck, warning to dig up old, old memories. Instead Kazuya settled to carry the body in a more appropriate matter.

As he stepped outside of the room, it suddenly hit him that he did not yet know what he should do with it. That no one else but him was supposed to dispose of it, of that he was certain, but how?

He looked again at the grotesque little thing. He could not recognize anything of himself in it. He could not recognize anything of Jun either.

Jun.

You were supposed to fix this, he mentally spat to the unborn baby, his face twisting into a silent scowl, you're the reason she had to leave.

The teary-faced image of Jun sprung into his mind with such intensity it brought back the full disturbance he felt upon seeing it for the first time.

You made her weak.

The realization that he wasn't speaking to the carcass did nothing to quell Kazuya's anger. Quite the opposite. He directed a vicious, vicious stare at the pounds of divine meat in his arms.

"I should throw you down to the lowest levels of Hell so that you may feed whatever monstrous things live down there, maybe that way you could make up for your uselessness."

He recoiled as soon as his venomous words left his mouth. The chill he just felt made him stop dead in his tracks. The thunder booming in his mind was a cruel punctuation. No. No, it bears my blood, he tried to rationalize, it deserves a better fate than this.

Yes, this was about pride, and not about the bone-deep horror he felt at how he just sounded like. Who he just sounded like.

He looked around at a loss, only to see that his feet took him back to the garden. Yes, of course, it was clear now: at the very least, it could be used as a grave, soon to be sealed off, and forgotten about. This felt fitting, this felt right, and right now he desesperately needed something to feel right.

So he entered back into the garden, and didn't need to search for long before finding a proper spot to bury the small body, which he set aside as he dropped to his knees.

To his dismay, that motion brought back more memories.

"Come join me!"

It was just after one of their spar, Kazuya was out of breath, as he often was when he went for extended periods of time on the surface. Jun was as lively as ever, covered in dirt that some would say is unfitting of a goddess, but Kazuya was above such thoughts: she yet again tied with him, she could look however she pleases.

"What for?" He called out to her.

"Helping me shape a new life!"

One could hear the smile in her voice as she gestured to the young tree waiting to be planted in a better sunlit spot.

"I take away life, Jun."

"And is that really all you can do, King of Hell?"

This got a smirk out of him, which only made her smile bigger, as she patted down the spot next to her. When he moved over and dropped to his knees, he could see that she has already worked up a sweat, having digged quite the hole, and they just had a fight before! He gave her a curious look: they're gods, surely there must be a less tiresome way to do this? And as usual, she understood him wordlessly.

"The effort makes it mean something," She held a handful of soil almost to his face and he leaned back ever so slightly. "It's much more satisfying than just willing it into existence."

His look turned from curious to perplexed, so she took his hands into her own (gently, so gently he learned not to jump at the touch anymore) and used them to scoop a bit of the earth.

"The soil is rich here thanks to the volcano," She said, referring to Hell's Entrance, not that far away from here. She kept her brown eyes focused on the ground. "Isn't it amazing? That what is thought to only bring death can help raise so much life?"

Kazuya just looked at her. He only ever looked at her. He could spend eons looking at her.

Her voice, somehow, turned ever softer.

"There is so much more to it than mere destruction."

In the garden, Kazuya felt as if he was digging a hole into his stomach, his throat, rather than in the soft dirt.

When the hole was deep enough, he lowered the unborn child into it, and stayed still for a moment to contemplate the fruit of his labor. Should he say a few words? Make a prayer like a mortal? All options beneath him of course, but sadly for him, that memory of... her brought a vulnerability. He especially despised it now.

Sighing, he began to push back the dirt into the hole.

He thought he dreamt the first sound, that it was just the impact of dust on clothes.

The second sound made him stop in confusion. To his credit, Kazuya heard plenty of last breaths, never a first one.

The third sound was like a great dam finally bursting wide open, a piercing scream that might as well have resonated throughout all levels of Hell. It was as if all the air that was in Kazuya's lungs left him to fuel those of the baby.

Kazuya reached into the hole with an alarming swiftness, as if that loud, irritating, wonderful sound could end at any moment. And he held the child with a gentleness he never thought himself capable of.

He didn't even know where the knowledge of making hushing, soothing noises came from.

He wouldn't dare to tear his shining bright red eyes away from the tiny godling in his arms, who in-between two hiccups started to just slightly open his own. Kazuya looked into them for the first time.

Dark, rich brown.

Outside the garden, a commotion has started to form, loud whispers started to rise, all souls present unsure of what to do, or what even was happening in there. Some were debating if they should enter to offer assistance to their Lord, some were saying it would mean risking punishment for daring to disturb their Master.

Hell embodied, an entity far older than all of Hell's denizens combined, including its Lord for whom she always had a soft spot for, broke away from the crowd to enter the garden, and find the origin of that strange, thundering noise.

It treaded inside on cautious steps, and she immediately felt the same unease Kazuya would when he stayed in there too long. She too was bound to this deep place far below from the surface that is Hell, maybe even more than him, but it was willing to endure the rising discomfort to help the one she had already saved long, long ago, and who she deemed her appointed ruler.

It found Kazuya in the middle of the garden, slowly pacing around, aware of her presence but unwilling to break his attention away from whatever he was holding.

When Hell Embodied came closer, it too felt it's breath taken away from her.

"Implausible," She whispered, awestruck, staring at the first ever hellborn child. "It came back to life."

"Jin."

Kazuya's eyes were shinier than she ever had seen them, even more shinier than when it encountered him for the first time, dying, at the bottom of Hell. They stayed fixated on the boy. He lightly bounced his son to make him more comfortable in his grip. Tiny hands were clasped on one of his much, much larger fingers.

"His name is Jin."

[myislandbunny]

ROR x GRANMAMARE! READER

You were absolutely astonishing.

As the goddess of life, your essence bloomed throughout the universe.

To humans, gods, animals, everything in between. You had a love for anything and everything you’d created.

The gods however, did not agree with your ideologies. They despised humanity. Though the reasons were simple enough, you could not being yourself to share the same feelings as your peers. You’ve shared that opinion several times throughout the many meetings the gods have held over the survival of humanity. And now, you sat watching as yet another council persisted.

“We should eradicate them!”

“Possibly speed up the ice age?”

“They’re nothing but a nuisance! They should’ve been destroyed eons ago.”

Your lips upturned, you frowned slightly yet not speaking. You knew very well that this could’ve possibly been the moment in which everybody agreed on the extinction of the human race. But you could not fathom it possibly happening.

“Alrighty then, all in favor of killing humanity take your votes.”

Previously, Zeus had told everyone about why they were there. Though he didn’t need to drabble on, everyone had already came to their decisions.

“I say we get rid of them. They have no respect for nature and so many species are extinct because of them! If you ask me, they’re a disease on this earth.”

Aphrodite, the beauty spoke. Other gods seemed to agree, then another voice spoke.

“She’s right. They’re just a lowly race, we can destroy and create per usual. If ya ask me, they’re long overdue for a cleansing.”

Shiva interjected. He held up four paddles with red X’s etched onto them as he laid lazily in his pillow.

“Well well, it seems as if your opinions haven’t changed in the slightest… alrighty then. I guess we’ve come to an agreement.”

Zeus said lowly with a slight chuckle. He raised his gavel, bringing it up just to nearly lower it down with enough force to shake the room.

“Please wait a second!”

Yet before he could make the ultimate decision, a voice spoke loud and clear. Catching his attention.

“Oh?”

Hermes, the messenger god whispered. His small smile never faltered as he looked between his father and the person in question.

“A valkyrie?”

“What’s she doing here?”

“Pardon my intrusion furious gods, there is one thing that I have to say.”

“Mind your manners Brunhilde!”

A voice spoke, it belonged to a bird. A loud one at that, Huginn it was. You’d made it a personal mission to remember everyone’s names. You peered closer to the large screen that broadcasted the meeting while waiting in nervous anticipation on the young Valkyrie’s next words.

The birds had let on a spew of insults. You couldn’t help but giggle slightly at this. They still had quite the fiery personality as they did the last time you’d met.

“It is true that mankind is unbearably vulgar and violent…”

Brunhilde’s breath hitched, she inhaled slowly and continued.

“But to just destroy them like that.. isn’t that a bit-?”

“Oi! Don’t ignore me!”

Muginn screeched.

Brunhilde blinked, continuing on.

“-Boring?”

Odin’s attention was caught at this question, yet he remained silent. Only listening to what she would say next. The rest of the gods listened intently, before retorting and spewing replies of their own.

“Say it now!”

“What are you planning imbecile?!”

“What is it?!”

Göll looked nervous by the shouting, as if that wasn’t evident enough. She clutched to her older sisters arm, cowering behind her as she whispered.

“This is a bad idea hilde..!”

Brundhilde only ignored her, furthering her speech.

“We should hold the ultimate battle between god and mankind. Ragnarok.”

Many of the more known gods had expressions of bewilderment written on their faces. Yet nobody interjected.

“Valhalla Constitution, Article no. 62 Super Special Clause. A one versus one showdown between gods and mankind.”

The gods went loud with fury, screaming insults and thoughts aloud.

“Your proposal is pointless.”

Huginn and Muninn said in unison.

“We want to destroy mankind without fighting them. We don’t want to be put in the same ring as them..”

Brunhilde spoke softly, looking off to the side with now widened eyes as she placed her finger upon her bottom lip.

“Don’t tell me… are you chickening out?”

The words she spoke seemed to set of flames. As earlier, the gods responded with pure fury and hatred. They were angry that one of their “own” had even thought to mock them.

You on the other hand, giggled softly. Your beautiful crystal earrings clanked as you did this action, but you’d quickly regained your composure and looked back at screen.

“Hohoho…”

A voice bellowed. It was Zeus. He stroked his beard while raising a bushy eyebrow.

“Very well said…”

All of the other gods stared intensely, you did as well.

“Your little speech was an absolute fucking unit!”

Zeus rejoiced loudly, he was oozing with excitement at the prospect of fighting. He grinned, though it was slightly hard to make out through the screen.

“It’s been long since I’ve had a good fight… an ultimate showdown between gods and humans. What do you think everyone, shall we show these humans the might of the gods?!”

Zeus’ voice echoed throughout the hall. Gods of all pantheons agreed loudly, spouting the same violent nonsense that they had been for years. But now a decision was finalized. Humanity would stay, for now. And you were quite happy about it.

Your lips curled into a smile, you turned off your special projector and rested your tense muscles.

“I believe I know what side I’ll be playing on.”

With those words, you stood up from your comfortable seat on the flat pillar. Your long shiny locks glowed and bounced freely as you turned to your garden. You were happy to see the turnout.

————

HI!

This is my first ever ROR story! I wanted to say a few quick things before I continue.

I may or may not continue writing this. It all depends on who interacts and if I feel like it.

The reader is based on an oc of mine, so don’t be so surprised if it’s a little different than you expected. But don’t worry, I have some facts about her that will get you well adjusted!

(Name) is the goddess of Life, a goddess created out of organic materials rather than being born like people usually are.

Despite seeming wise, she’s actually well beyond her years. She’s around the age of some of the younger gods, but her body has manifested into a giant woman centuries ago.

She has direct connection to most forms of life. Because she created a lot of life forms in Valhalla and Midgard, they all have a connection to her.

She can feel the emotions, as well as the hurt and comfort. So for instance, if a major forest fire breaks out; it’ll burn her skin.

The same can be said for her emotions as they’re linked to the earth as well. Whenever she cries, it rains. Whenever she’s happy, it’s sunny and it blooms.

She’s about the same height as blue Diamond from Steven Universe. She obviously towers over every other god there is.

She has a smaller form, but because of her emotions growing with her body and the fact that her body is flowing with so much life— her body became bigger to handle the capacity of her power. She can change forms, but it dissipates her power significantly.

She is based on Granmamare for the most part, but also based off of a few other goddesses. These include.

Yemaya, The Orisha.

Oshun, The Orisha.

Pele, The Hawaiian Goddess of fire and volcanoes.

Laka, The Hawaiian Goddess of beauty, love and fertility.

Gaea, The Greek personification of earth.

Aphrodite, The Greek Goddess of beauty.

Hestia, The Greek Goddess of the hearth, fire and family.

With this in mind, the reader is meant to be a woman of color! Specifically a black woman. So I will write her as such, especially since there aren’t many other dark skinned gods in record of Ragnarok. You can imagine her otherwise if you’d like.

She is particularly curvy and busty appearance wise, she has signature long flowing hair and she adorns a pale pink dress with several jewels from around the world as her jewelry.

Her personality is bubbly, kind, motherly, optimistic, upbeat, confident, curious, honest, creative, loyal, compassionate, intelligent, courageous, enthusiastic, empathetic, ambitious, stubborn and honorable.

If it seems as though she’s a Mary Sue, don’t mind it!!

She’s a goddess, she’s gonna be as perfect as she can- or at least try to live up to those expectations. She very much does have flaws like everyone else, but her purity sets her leagues above everyone else in terms of personality.

Also side note!! I will try to add as many love interests as possible. I just stopped tagging them because I got tired of it, but the ones you see listed will be included. And yes, Zeus will have a part in the readers harem. I do like his character way more than any other rendition of Zeus.

Comment, Likes, Reblogs. I appreciate all of them, I can’t wait to possibly continue this story.

[the-exhausted-xexandaler]

I look at the young woman while she stares up at me. I estimate she must be in her early twenties based on how I’ve seen humans in the past age. She doesn’t seem to be fearful… is that admiration in her eyes?

As I consider the woman, she begins to speak. ���Oh great lord of the mountains! I have come as sacrifice for the bounties you have given us and our lands! Devour me as you please!’

… maybe less admiration and more worshiping? Also… ‘Great Lord of the Mountains’? Isn’t that the title of the behemoth I bartered with for this cavern for a few centuries ago? I look closer at the girl who’s breath seems to have become ragged.

‘My dear child, are you ill? You seem to have labored breath. I can whip up a good stew for you be-‘

‘Oh heavens! My Lord plans to boil me in a broth! What a joyous day!’ She exclaims, interrupting my offer to feed and send her home. ‘Might I recommend some of the garlic we have offered you last month My Lord? It’s excellent as a seasoning.’

I reel back at the zeel this girl has for being devoured. I feel like something is being lost in translation… ‘Erm… I believe there is a misunderstanding between us, but before I explain my choices, I must ask… why are you so keen to be consumed? Is life not a precious thing for humans? And further more are you not still in the prime of your youth? Surely a beautiful 20-something old woman like yourself must have many suitors after her hand in marriage.’ I inquire.

She blushes intensely. ‘O-oh dear… My Lord sees me as beautiful? Is it possible that you don’t want to devour my bones, but make me bear your lineage?!? Oh what a joyous day!!’ She shrieks.

I’m starting to think this woman ‘doesn’t have all her screws tightened’ I believe is the phrase humans used last decade. Or was it ‘screws loose’? What are screws anyways? I’ve heard of them but never seen such a phenomenon.

As I’m considering this dilemma, the maiden begins undressing. ‘Surely My Lord would prefer to see the body of his ‘prey’ before he begins to ‘devour’ this morsel yes~?’ Sleek silver hair and a rosy complexion. Funny… she almost looks like the saintess I raised when I was younger. But that was many centuries ago, so she shouldn’t be alive still. Unless she made a deal with the Demon Lord (my other daughter) which I find hard to believe given how those two girls bickered over everything. I may have raised them a bit to reliant on me with how they would fight about who would become my ‘bride’. Ah the memories.

‘May I ask you some questions my dear?’

‘Certainly! What do you want to know? My blood type? My three sizes? My favorite position to be defiled in~?’ What nonsense is she on about now? I was only meaning to ask about her lineage, but she seems to run at her own rhythm. ‘Oh!’ She starts. ‘But I suppose I should correct you on one thing My Lord. I am not in my twenties.’

Interesting. I had no idea that cosmetics have come so far in these last few centuries. I really must andromorph more often to visit the towns. Perhaps it’ll be a bit of a nice change of pace. Still, fo cosmetics to make someone older look like they are in the prime of their youth, that is impressive.

As my attention is focused on planning an outing, the woman drops a rather large pheonix egg right into my lap. ‘I’ll have you know that this next year I will be turning 15~ so we’ll have plenty of time to make an heir for you My Lord~’

‘15!! Heavens what has happened to humanity to allow them to grow so quickly. Why when my daughters were your age they were such petite and sweet creatures. But… what has happened?’ I am in shock that such a… I believe that people back a few years ago would call her ‘healthy’ girl could still be in her teens. Is it the magic I’ve been loosing as I slept? Something in the water? Would that explain why she is being so rediculous?

‘My Lo-‘

‘And another thing. Please enough with the ‘My Lord’ exclamation. My name has been for eons and forever shall be Jetrien, so please call me that. Now, explain in order. First, what has happened to allow humans to grow so fast? Second, why does your colony send me offerings every time the moon is full? Third, what is wrong with your head that you are alright with being devoured in both a culinary and carnal way. And forth and finally…’ I take a deep inhale to make it clear as possible that this is the most important question of them all. ‘Why do you look so similar to Lauren the Saintess?’

The girl seems stunned. Did I maybe give her to many things to consider? Maybe I should’ve given her these questions as time went on? Look at her. She’s shivering in confusion. Hmmm… maybe she is the descendant of Lauren. The dear used to do that every time I scolded her.

‘Y-you’re name…’ she stutters out after a minute of quivering.

‘Is there something wrong wit-‘

‘THE NAME OF OUR GOD IS SPOKEN!!!’ She shrieks out loudly.

Gods above even my ears are ringing. I ever realized this until now, but this cavern holds quite the echo. Maybe that deal with the behemoth was to good to be true after all.

‘First! Yes growth! It’s believed that the hormones introduced to make animals and plants grow faster over the past few years have been making humans grow faster as well. My sister is 12 but she looks like she’s already ready to enroll in university Lord Jetrien.’

So that answers that. But hang on… hormones? What are those? I suppose they might be a spell to increase harvest yields, but spells like those wear off after the harvest season.

‘Second!’ She exclaims while I’m mulling over the details of these ‘hormones’. ‘We have been bringing you only our freshest of produce as tribute in thanks to the bountiful blessings you have given us Lord Jetrien. From the waters that flow from these mountains to the flourishing fields and safe environment that would allow all species to prosper.’

Oh so they are embursing me for services? I mean I guess my magic had been keeping predators out of the humans civilization, but she said ‘all life to prosper’ which means that it might not just be humans living there. Interesting since last I recalled humans in particular were a rather proud species that saw everything else as ‘beneath them’.

‘Third! I’ve been training for years for this day! After I found out that they were planning to give a pure, beautiful and intelligent female sacrifice for our god once they found the perfect offering, I learned everything I could from ancient languages, sciences, agriculture and animal husbandry to more modern inventions like computer literacy, modern literature and even some more sensual topics~’ She said that final part while shivering again.

Do I really look like I’m wanting some loud kids interrupting my quiet time? I can hardly handle this one. Also what is this ‘computer’ she’s talking about. Is it yet another language?

‘And as for your final question Lord Jetrien…’ She herself took a deep breath as if to copy how important my question was. Very cheeky. ‘I don’t have an answer for that. I know that genetics play a large roll in the appearance of a child as a hereditary standard, but if I recall from my studies the lady saintess never wed or birthed children.’

‘Oh?’ I ask. This girl actually is quite a wealth of information. Though… ‘So my first dear daughter never found a mate for herself? How upsetting.’ It’s not that I wanted her to find a handsome man to have many children with, but she was always eager to have children. She even would ask me to marry her when she was older. Of course I would be there to officiate her wedding. Come to think of it… ‘Wait? Then what about Seriana? I believe your records may refer to her as a ‘Demon Lord’, but she was the one I saw as my second daughter. Tell me that she found someone to cherish and love for eternity.’

The girl’s body jerked at my intensity but calmed down slightly. ‘Y-you raised both the Saintess of Purity and the Greatest Demon Lord in history? You truly are a god not that it was ever in question!’ She exclaimed. So much for calming down…

‘Would you calm down and answer my questions please? I must know what happened to my children ever since I let them be the adults they were.’

‘Ahem… yes Lord Jetriel. Sadly it is said that the Demon Lord Seriana never had any children herself. When questioned by both of their nations nobels over why they would let their lineage die, they oddly both had this to say…’

‘The only one allowed to be with me is the greatest of all beings. Our god and lord who raised me and that terrible woman.’

‘… as both of them claimed that they wouldn’t marry or birth the child of any other man or beast, the died with none but their friends and allies. Peacefully in both of their slumbers is what the records say, but that’s up for debate. Heads of the nations and all that.’ The girl shrugged. I do understand how mortals be with their desires for power.

I lowered my head into my hands and prayed to the goddess for my children. It may have been centuries since I last saw them, but they were still as precious and loved as my own flesh and blood. Forgive your father for abandoning you both.

‘I see.’ I finally say after a while of trying to calm my nerves. ‘It seems that the world has changed quite a bit since I last left this cavern. Perhaps it’s time for me to stretch the old wings and see the world as it is now?’ I’ve always been fond of exploring new places even when I was acting as those girls father. Is the Sacred Tree of the Elven Race still standing proud? The Dwarven Nation might have finally collapsed from their over reliance on the bounty beneath the soil. Who knows what new races may have come into being or what new dragons are born now. Well… one here might know.

I glare at the girl intently and yet again she flusters. ‘L-Lord Jetrien! Do yoh mean to leave your sacred perch atop this holy mountain?!?’ She shrieked.

I hate to say that over the course of this conversation I have grown slightly used to her high energy. ‘Holy ground or not, I seem to have spent to much time in isolation that the world has left these old bones behind. I believe seeing what has changed will be a good chabge of pace for me. However, I know not where is best, so I must ask a few more questions if you will allow me.’

‘Y-yes of course Lord Jetrien! Oh this is heavenly! Our god will bless the world once more with his glorious appearance! Look out world! The father of alk is coming to remind all of his brilliance!!!’

… Hopefully I can get her to become a bit more lax before I start exploring the world. If this woman has studied everything, than that must include geographical knowledge. Now then…

Where first shall I go?

An old dragon just wants to be left alone, but the new village that just cropped up a few decades ago keep leaving gifts at his doorstep… and now they’ve just left a maiden!

[anunendinggaze]

DWC - August - Day 6 - Corruption

The sand slipped through his fingers as always, a constant reminder to his life. It should have no meaning here, nothing should have meaning here in the Void. But it did. Time was never on Kinowin Du'mere's side.

A hard line of his lips stayed still as he stood up straight, his body silent despite his age. There were no cracking joints or groans of displeasure at his own deterioration. He just was.

It seemed he always would be.

How long had he been in this state of fugue? A few years? Months? Eons? It felt just like that. His final memories before the emptiness always of the black temple he had raised with in the name of the Old Ones with his brothers and sisters of the Hammer. Kinowin had hated that name. He knew their origins began back beyond the Dark Portal from the Orcs, but honestly with the influx of competent members from Azeroth it made no sense to stick with such a simple name. Despite this he could think of nothing more grandiose to rename it, only the fact of it's greenskin heritage made his mouth twist.

"Damnable beasts," he muttered. Or he supposed he muttered as he tried to remember the sound of his own voice. He hardly used it. There was no need to. There was no one to talk to.

He was alone.

Always alone.

Taking a deep breath in out of habit, his hand would come to softly rub at his chest where the final memory always started from and ended here. He was on the third level of the pyramid. The gates were opening above as the battle raged all around them. The Hammer was winning despite whatever the Bronze were trying to do to stop them. Pathetic heroes and martyrs trying to save a dying world. It was all tragically laughable. Strangely enough he does remember laughter. Though he wished it had been his own.

Candell.

That one-eyed bastard Zexx Candell. Destiny was a silly concept but it seemed it had wanted to rear it's ugly head for him this time as they squared off once again. He should have finished the job all those years ago when he had been with his sister. She had needed proper push to break it off with the human, as it had interfered with everything they had worked for. Everything he had worked for. All the sacrifices, money, time, and effort to mold their reality into their reality. And she just had to throw it all away for some oafish warrior's dick.

It had begun with a duel in Westall and now it was to end in another duel in Silithus.

It had not ended well for him.

He'd like to say the idea of losing to the warrior was worse than the sword that was shoved through him, but he would lying. Anyone would. A wound that grievous would make even a god think twice about his choices. He'd only wished he'd finished the flames that had burned Candell the first time. It would have saved him some time.

As his vision faded into a cloud black and the final bit of 'hero monologue' about 'I got you, son of a bitch' had wrung in his ears. Shortly thereafter, a brief settling of emerald light flooded his vision before finally fading into dark.

A few precious moments of silence and nothing. Paradise? Perhaps. Kinowin had never been completely certain of his 'prize' at the end of his work with the Hammer nor what was really to be expected of the ancient force that lived beyond the cosmos. Only that he wanted it. Needed it.

But had he gotten it?

Kinowin wasn't sure. Or this was it, he didn't know if he wanted it.

But naked and lost had been how he had awoken, his skin pale and flesh marred by fel or void or whatever. There was only one scar he cared about and it forever hurt.

Even now has he reached to touch it and gently rub, the pain filled him with something. Burning, prickling, and never healing as he felt the stickiness on his fingertips. He felt the stickiness.

His fingers pulled back and tapped together a few times.

This was new.

Something had changed.

His head lifted into the emptiness as he saw something newer as well. A flash of violet with a splash of blue. Again and again they would appear. And then close.

Head tilted, he continued to observe the phenomenon here in this vast empty ether. Was there some kind of escape from his prison? Or was this a new level of madness to claim him?

The scar burned. The blood felt tacky. The smile was real. And the eyes that lit with that same emerald light looked up as another flash occurred and winked out.

"Fascinating."

@daily-writing-challenge

(Apologies for the late posting, went away for a wedding in the middle of the challenge but I wanted to finish the spread)

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Even though there is a comic talking about the kwamis' origins, I still feel there is a lot of important stuff missing. What would your version of Kwami's origin would be and how do you think they were able to get connected to these Jewelleries that helps them have a some sort of human form. . .

(I honestly skimmed over the whole thing with the wizard. But I will be more than happy to take a whack at this)

LONG ago before the universe had been born. There was nothing.

Nothing but a divine being with no name

Seeing the nothingness around them, they had decided to fix that.

Being unbound by Laws or time, the Great being tried to do something. This was the first act of Creation.

Creation being a new concept, the Divine being needed something or someone to help them. They cut a piece of themself, Thus Tikki was born, as the concept of Creation.

Tikki helped the great being create the universe. But it was disastrous! Tikki was a great helper but she created too much, and the great being needed to find a way to control this creation. So the great being did the first act of 'Destruction'.

Now understanding that there needed to be balance, with Destruction now a new concept, Plagg was born.

Tikki and Plagg helped the great being create the universe. Plagg destroying the Excess.

As the universe was created, more concepts were created. And as such, more Beings like Tikki and Plagg were formed. Made from pieces of the great being.

Tikki and Plagg were the favorites of the Great Being.

After the universe was created, the Great being realized that they had spread themselves to thin, and that they would need to rest.

The Great being unsure of what would happen in his slumber imbued Tikki and Plagg a unique power. The power of Change

Should the two ever need to change something within the universe. They would be allowed to merge and recreate the universe. A power which they can only activate if the situation is dire.

Seeing the kwami, (his children) saddened by his slumber. He sealed their memories of him. As well as making them many of the abilities they have now. Allowing them the freedom to explore the universe they all created.

Eons passed and the Kwami had explored multiple planets with life. But found themselves on earth.

Earth had been a lot more fascinating to the Kwami than the previous planets they had been on.

The kwami found themselves drawn to a specific race, one known as "Humans"

The Humans developed and grew much faster than previous races and species they witnessed. The kwami decided to protect them, help them grow.

Though the Kwami realized that they were far too powerful. Anytime they used their powers, they would cost the lives of countless individuals. Plagg had doomed several planets prior.

The Kwami wanted a way to help Humanity, without dooming it.

So Tikki and the other Kwami began to think of ways to help without hurting humanity.

The Kwami were unaware that the Great being, though deep in slumber had heard their sorrows and woes.

The great being had planted an idea in the mind of a Jewelry maker. (Who looks VERY SIMILAR to Marinette)

While watching over humanity, Tikki had spotted some beautiful jewellery. It seemed as if it was calling out to her. She had touched it and suddenly she felt herself sucked in.

The other kwami felt her presence vanish and rush to find her, each ending up trapped in jewellery pieces that called out to them.

Unfortunately for the jewellery maker, no one bought her wears that day, but having went to polish them in the night, she made contact with the kwami.

It was there that she learned about the powerful beings, including their powers and origins.

The Jewellery maker became known as a powerful magician.

And She was also the first Miraculous user. The First Ladybug.

She would go on and save her home multiple times. Including from an ancient evil.

She would also have allies assist her in battle. Giving them to who she deemed worthy of such a miraculous.

Her first choice and her partner, was the first Black Cat. (A foreigner from another land that looked VERY similar to Adrien)

With her team they would become guardians to those in need.

She would become the first "Guardian" and would end up creating the order of guardians.

Having lived for centuries thanks to the miraculous, she and her team would begin creating rules for the miraculous, as well as a field guide on the Kwami

Through out history the Guardians would study the miraculous... and some rogue guardians would cause issues which resulted in new rules regarding the miraculous.

The Great being while resting, still surveys the universe by looking through the eyes of his children (the Kwami).

[drabbles-mc]

Breaking In

Bishop Losa x F!Reader

Request by @garbinge​: So I did some prompt searching today and found this and thought about maybe a little best friends to lovers trope with Bishop: “look, i know that we rarely agree on things, and i know that you're not happy about how i choose to do things, but you're here, and i love you for it.” anddddd “are you gonna pull the trigger?”

Warnings: language, angst (with a happy ending), Bishop being the stubborn man that he is

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I haven’t shown Bishop some love in a while and I really liked these prompts for him. Hope y’all enjoy! xo

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It had been a few days since you and Bishop spoke. The two of you had gotten into a minor blowout. You guys argued on a fairly regular basis, but it was always coming from a well-intentioned place on both ends. You were protective of each other and with the life that he lived, it was stressful to care so much. He wanted to keep you as far away from club business as possible, and you wanted the exact opposite—you couldn’t protect him or yourself if you didn’t know what you were going up against.

When you had called Bishop that day and asked if he was free to grab a drink, just wanting to see and talk to him after the long week that you’d had, he told you not to come by the clubhouse. He let you know that the club had pissed some people off and the clubhouse was a bit of a hot-spot. The information was meant to deter you, but if anything it made you speed over there as quickly as possible to make sure that everyone was alright.

When Bishop heard your car pull onto the lot, he made his way over to it, not even allowing you the chance to make it to the steps of the clubhouse. He tried to get you back into your car, telling you that sometimes you need to just fucking listen to him when he tells you to do things. You weren’t a person who took kindly to being bossed around, not even by Bishop, so things got out of hand pretty quickly after that. And it had been radio silence since.

You were getting out of the shower, ready to pull on your pajamas and climb into bed when you heard your phone buzzing on your bed. You hated that you were hoping to see Bishop’s name on the screen. It wasn’t, though. With a sigh you picked it up and answered.

“Hey, Angel, what’s up?”

“Hey. You with Bish?”

You scoffed, “No, why?”

There was a slight hint of amusement in his voice, “Damn. Alright. Didn’t realize that was a tense question,” he paused, “He left a few hours ago pretty pissed off. Stormed out of his meeting with Taza and Hank. We just…um…know that you two kinda…”

“Kinda what?”

“Don’t get defensive,” he laughed, “He just. You know. He talks to you. Figured you should be the first person to call since he isn’t picking up his fucking phone.”

You sighed, “I haven’t seen him.”

“Alright. If you do—”

“I’ll let you know.”

He tried and failed to bite back a chuckle, “Thanks. Take care of him, yea?”

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you, “That’s all I’m ever trying to do these days.”

“We love you, y’know.”

“I know,” you laughed, “Bye, Angel.”

“Later, Y/N.”

You tossed the phone back onto your bed as you weighed out your options. It wasn’t like Bishop to blow off the club like that. You had no idea what was going on—he made sure of that the past few weeks, but it must’ve been something rough to make him storm out and shut his phone off. As much as you wanted to keep giving him the cold shoulder, your heart wouldn’t let you.

So that was how you ended up parking in his driveway that night. His bike was in the driveway and even though the house was dark, you knew that he was home and that he was more than likely still very much awake. He was never able to sleep when he was angry, which was half the reason the man was so exhausted all the time.

You were digging around in your purse as you made your way up the driveway. Eons ago Bishop had given you a spare key to his place in case of emergencies. You never really needed it. Whenever you were going to his place it was always because you were invited, so the door was always unlocked. He wasn’t expecting company now though, especially not yours.

Taking a deep breath, you slid the key into the lock. You were rewarded with the clicking sound of the lock opening. Part of you expected him to have changed the locks since he gave you the key so long ago. You were glad that he didn’t because the prospect of trying to open and crawl through a window wasn’t an inviting one. And you knew that if you knocked on the door and tried to get him to let you in, he would just ignore you. You knew because you would do the same thing to him if the roles were reversed.

The door always took some extra effort to push open. Bishop was more than handy and you never understood why he didn’t just fix it. Whatever the reason, you found yourself shouldering the door rather hard to gain entrance to the house. You stumbled in, bracing yourself against the door to keep from falling to the floor when it finally gave way.

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath as you straightened yourself out and pushed the door shut, locking it again. As you were going to pull your shoes off, you heard the unmistakable click of a gun. The house was dark and you knew that he probably had no idea that it was you. You chuckled, “Are you gonna pull the trigger?”

You heard him huff as he reached and turned a light on, “What the fuck, Y/N? You’re gonna get yourself shot breaking into places like that.”

You waved the key around, “Not breaking in if I have a fucking key.”

He put the safety back on and set his gun to the side. Exhaustion and frustration was present in every inch of his face. Part of you wanted to hug him, and part of you wanted to smack him because you still weren’t done being mad at him for being an ass to you.

“Why are you here?” he didn’t sound overly annoyed, just tired.

“The guys called me—they’re worried about you,” you walked closer to him, “Figured I should stop by and make sure you didn’t go off on a bender.”

He held his arms out, as if inviting you to inspect him, “Satisfied?”

As much as you wanted to keep being mad, your brain was telling you to reach out to hug him, to caress his face and make the worry lines fade away. You didn’t, though—you couldn’t. Instead, you shrugged, “For now. I’m not leaving, though.”

“Oh?”

“You can’t kick me out of the clubhouse and your house, Obispo,” you walked over and plopped down on the couch.

He sighed, “We’re still arguing about that?”

“We can be done arguing about it if you admit that I’m right.”

He sat down on the couch next to you, “You can’t admit that I had a little bit of a right to be mad?” he shook his head, “I asked you to do one thing and you just—”

“What about me made you think that I would just leave you guys alone if things were getting rough?” you didn’t let him finish his sentence, “I’m willing to break into your fucking house to make sure you’re alright. You think that I wouldn’t make the drive over to the clubhouse to make sure you’re safe?”

“So you do admit it’s breaking and entering?” there was a hint of a smile on his face, and you hated that it made your heart feel a little fuller.

You rolled your eyes, “Not the fucking point.”

His expression sobered, “I know. But you…you do get why I don’t want you involved in all that shit, right?”

“Not really.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to choose his next words carefully, “I’m not going to be the reason you get fucking shot. If you got hurt because my club got into shit with the wrong people I wouldn’t ever be able to forgive myself.”

“You aren’t responsible for what I do. I make my own fucking decisions. You don’t get to ice me out because you get nervous. You’re my best friend and you don’t get to just decide that I—”

“I can’t do this without you!” he snapped, shaking his head. He took a deep breath, making a conscious effort to quiet his voice, “I can’t lose you. You can get mad at me all you want over that. If you ignoring me for a few days, a week, keeps you alive then by all means fucking do it. If something ever…I can’t…” he couldn’t get his words in order.

You felt your attitude melting away as you watched him fumble to put his feelings into words. You reached out and rested your hand on his arm, “Bish, hey, come on now,” you smiled, “I’m tough. You don’t gotta worry about me.”

“Yes, I do,” despite your attempt to lighten the mood you could still see the heaviness in his eyes, “I’ve watched a million things fall apart in my hands. You can’t be another thing that gets added to that list. And if that means you’re going to hate me from time to time then I’m willing to live with that.”

“I’ve never hated you,” you said with a shake of your head.

He waited for your eyes to meet his, “Look, I know we rarely agree on things. And I know you’re not happy about how I choose to do things,” he covered your hand with his own, “but you’re here, and I love you for it.”

Your eyes widened at his statement, “Wh-what?”

He gave your hand a squeeze, “I love you.”

“Even when I’m kicking in your door?”

He chuckled, nodding, “Especially then.”

Your heart was racing inside your chest—you were almost certain that Bishop could hear it as he sat next to you. This wasn’t where you had been picturing the conversation going. Everything that you’d kept bottled up for years was bubbling to the surface as you smiled over at him, “I love you too.”

“And I’m sorry for yelling at you when you came to the clubhouse,” he sighed, “I just…I was picturing the worst and I didn’t want you caught in the middle of it.”

“You worry too much.”

He chuckled, his gaze meeting yours, “Someone has to.”

You felt like you were supposed to have something profound and meaningful to say. But as you sat there next to him and let him stare deep into your eyes, there wasn’t a single word or phrase that came to mind that could say what you really felt. That being the case, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

There was no hesitation in his movements as he rested his hand on the back of your neck, keeping your lips attached to his. You braced yourself against him as you leaned farther and farther into the kiss. His fingertips pressed lightly into your neck and you wished that you could just melt completely into him.

When you finally pulled away, both of you had satisfied smiles on your faces. You laughed quietly as you reached up, tracing your fingers through his beard, “Do me one favor, Obispo?”

He nodded, “Anything.”

“Fix that fucking door,” you laughed, “Next time I wanna come and see you I don’t want to feel like I’m committing a criminal act.”

He laughed, kissing your temple, “I can do that for you,” he paused, “Thank you for not giving up on me. I know I don’t make it easy.”

You chuckled, “Neither of us make it easy. Keeps us both humble.”

He pulled you into another soft kiss, “I love you.”

You kept your forehead pressed against his, “I love you too.”

[xoxopandapanda]

InuKag Week 2021: Day 1

@inukag-week

Day 1: Battle Couple

It was a long and difficult day to say the least. The baby wouldn’t go down for anything, quickly becoming irate and angry at any attempt his parents made to help him settle down. Inuyasha’s shoulders and arms were of no comfort, and he didn’t want to nurse from Kagome. He cried and cried.

Soon his parents cried with him.

Inuyasha held it together for a while, taking the babe from Kagome when she started to choke up at his rejection of her breast. “Here,” his voice was soft, barely audible over the screaming child in Kagome’s arms. “Give him to me. You get some shut eye while we go out for a walk.”

Kagome had shaken her head at first but didn’t stop Inuyasha when he lifted the bundle out of her arms and tucked it into the crook of his neck. “I’m serious,” he told his wife sternly, “get some rest.”

Kagome felt the burn of tears down her face and saw through the waterworks Inuyasha’s shoulders fall slightly. But he turned on his heel and quickly left the hut they occupied, true to his word of taking the baby out for a walk. Kagome dropped her head into her hands, not bothering to even tidy or cover herself up before falling over to cry.

She felt like such a failure, of a mother and wife.

Kagome had gone nearly two days without a few hours rest, and exhaustion quickly crept on her. She was too tired and far too upset herself to remember that Inuyasha needed far less rest than her and could handle a fussy baby for a while. Once she was rested, she would probably blame baby brain for forgetting such a vital part of her husband’s characteristics, but that was for a rested Kagome to worry about.

Sleep came to her quickly, albeit restless sleep. She kept waking and searching for the other occupants of her home, before remembering they were out on a walk. She moved in and out of awareness, not having slept alone in what felt like eons, but realistically was only two years. Her bed felt cold and the room too quiet without her boys in it.

Sunlight finally peaked through the crevices of the walls. Inuyasha had promised her that he would fill in the gaps that the aging wood had created. But that was before the early labor and dramatic entrance of their first-born son just a few short months ago. Kagome half thought to remind him of the task, but then thought she couldn’t risk his attention been separated from her and the baby.

She wasn’t ready to be solely responsible yet.

Sure, reasonably she knew she could do it. It would probably just take him a few hours to gather the straw and mud to bulk up the walls, and with his speed and strength the longest part of it would be waiting for it to dry before adding more. He could help her out during those times, but the thought of even a moment where he wasn’t beside her with his full attention on their baby was too much to imagine.

Kagome started to choke up realizing she had left him to her own worst fear last night – solo parenting.

She rubbed her eyes, and the voice in the back of her head told her “Inuyasha is his father. He is just as capable of taking care of him for a few hours, if not more so.”

She threw that thought to the wind and continued to berate herself for leaving him alone with a very upset and very inconsolable baby for an entire night.

Kagome forced herself to sit up, stiff from having slept in the position she fell over in, rearranging her clothes. She winced at the soreness of her breasts and was sure to loosely cover herself.

“He should be hungry,” she said aloud to no one in particular. ‘Hopefully’ went unspoken.

As she dusted herself off and walked to the bucket of water in the corner to get a drink, Inuyasha’s head ducked in the room, eyes scanning for her.

When he saw her, he gave her a sheepish look. Kagome panicked for a moment – did he leave the baby with Sango and Miroku? What would they think of them as parents if they just dropped the kid off when he got fussy?

Her thoughts were interrupted when he stepped into the room, a whimpering lump on his chest alerting her to the baby’s presence.

Later she would realize her panicked thoughts were more of a manifestation of her own desire to ask her friends for help but wouldn’t out of an irrational fear of judgement. That was another thing she was going to have to work out.

“Sorry to wake you, but he’s suckling on me.”

Kagome blinked, her brain still foggy and slow. Oh. Inuyasha meant the baby was hungry.

She went to grab the baby from her husband, but then thought better of it. Wouldn’t be good to drop the kid in her exhaustion trying to get herself sorted to feed him.

She put down the ladle she was drinking from and sat back down on their futon, crumpled and unmade from the events of the night before. The smell of it made her speak. “We got to air this out today.”

“Once he’s fed, I’ll bring it out.” Inuyasha stepped up into the main room and crouched beside his wife, waiting for her to be ready for the baby – who was still whimpering, but had at least dried himself out of tears.

Kagome adjusted her clothes before holding her arms out for her son – her perfect, fussy, big, loud, demanding son. He quickly latched and took off suckling, eager to fill his stomach and rehydrate after the waterworks of the last few hours.

Kagome felt Inuyasha settled behind her, his arms coming around to hold up their son with her, so her arms didn’t have to hold up the weight. Sighing loudly, she leaned back into him, her head resting against his shoulder and his chin nuzzling into her opposite shoulder. Kagome closed her eyes and started to drift of.

Okay, maybe she did drift off.

Next thing she knew Inuyasha had switched their baby on her breasts and was rubbing his wet nose into her cheek. “Hey,” his voice in her ear was a nice change from the screaming of the night before, “I need you to lay down. I’ve got to burp the brat.”

Kagome nodded, slumping over on his arm, until he removed it and let her flop onto the futon. She could hear the shuffling of his feet walking and bouncing the baby up and down to help him release excess gas. The wet blech told her that more than likely the fire rat robe was going to need to be washed.

Groggily she called out, “He did drink pretty dang fast.”

“Yeah,” came the reply, “let’s just hope he kept enough down to keep him calm for a little bit.”

“Maybe he’ll go into a food coma, and we can rest to.”

Inuyasha snorted. “If there’s a god out there, then let’s pray it happens.”

Kagome knew she should help her husband. He was probably having to juggle a baby while getting out of his clothes and then having to clean both of them up. She knew she should just get up and even if it was to wipe off their son, at least do something. But she couldn’t even manage to open her eyes to watch what she was sure was quite the scene playing out in her house.

She could say she was surprised when she was lifted up and put onto some blankets, but she wouldn’t because she didn’t have it in her to even register what was going on. Managing just a little bit of strength, Kagome saw her son on his back next to her, his chest going up and down and a very light snore coming from his mouth that also caused his ears to twitch in rhythm. He was naked which Kagome knew was probably a bad idea but couldn’t even find it in her to care.

If he soiled the blankets, he soiled the blankets. They washed.

Besides, it wasn’t like she was exactly clean herself.

Rolling to her side, she gently tucked an arm under her head and the other coming down softly to rest on his chest. The movement of his breath quickly lulled his mother into a far more peaceful rest than before.

The sun had well slid its way across the sky by the time Kagome woke up. Inuyasha was sitting in the genkan, a shallow dish of water before him and the boy in his lap. The baby seemed very fascinated by the light dancing across the surface and was enchanted by the experience.

Kagome could tell that her husband was just as enchanted by watching their son experience the world for the first time.

“Some partner I am.” Her voice was rough and gravely from dehydration. Inuyasha’s ears moved before his head. He looked over his shoulder at her, bemusement in his eyes.

“Didn’t know I married a bear demon.”

Kagome rolled her eyes at his quip. Gods help her if her son developed his father’s sense of humor. “I’m sorry for leaving you to all the work. I’m not a very good wife, am I?”

Inuyasha’s eyes narrowed, whether in confusion or annoyance, she couldn’t tell. She was too far gone in her emotions to care. “What kind of mother am I, even? I just leave my boy alone and don’t comfort him?”

Inuyasha cut her off before she could continue down her path of self-deprecation. “No one could comfort him last night. Miroku told me that babies get that way sometimes, so we’ve just got to stick together and make sure he knows we’ll be there for him.”

Ah. He had gone to see Miroku and Sango last night. Kagome felt a sting of bitterness in her chest, worrying about judgement for no reason.

“But,” Inuyasha looked back at his son, stroking the top of his head and lifting his fine sliver baby hair, “we aren’t going to win the battle unless we rely on each other and have each other’s backs.”

Kagome nearly stopped him, wanting to know what battle before she realized Miroku had probably use an analogy to get through to his half-demon friend.

Inuyasha continued. “You had my back with Naraku, and when I got injured. I had your back when you had to fight off Hobo and the entrance examples. It’s no different now.”

Kagome opened her mouth to correct him like she had thousands of times before about Hojo’s name, but her heart had other plans. “You’re right,” she spoke softly, her eyes beginning to close again now that she was comforted. “We’ve got each other’s backs. Thanks for having mine last night.”

If she had kept her eyes open for a few more moments she would have seen the color light up across her husband’s face before he turned to look back down at their boy, who was now touching the water to refract light differently, although he didn’t understand the science of his actions.

If she had stayed awake for a second longer, she would have heard her husband say, “I’ll always have your back.”

[nickywhoisi]

Oh snap it’s Nick’s post!

So this has been a long time coming, and I know I should have done this EONS ago, but I decided that this blog needs a header post about me for everyone seeing me for the first time. I think the intro I had up there is actually rather...bad, not so helpful, a little sketch, and maybe even a little worrying to someone uninitiated. So I ought to fix that.

-My name is Nicholas, and I prefer to go by Nick, but Nicky has also happened and I don’t mind it too much, being in my username and all.

-I am nonbinary, they/them pronouns, and only that. I have a pretty sore spot about this, being misgendered irl all the time... and so I am pretty strict about getting pronouns right and picking one exclusively for myself. I just really want to distance myself from being forced into femininity that I can’t even begin to tell you I don’t have. I don’t know what’s wrong with people out there! I don’t understnd why they can’t stop looking at the exterior skin and know that there’s a real identity here.

-I am just about to be 30! Wowee! And I am smashed up so much from traumatic life experiences, I don’t feel a day over 2! How am I not dead?! Hooray eternal youth! ...Well, yeah, y’got me. I can’t even pretend that this is okay. I really am sometimes oscillating between frames of mind that do not reflect my age, if there is even a guideline for that. The truth is, I have never had healthy human relationships or “object constancy/permanence” to know what a stable person acting precisely like the age range they are is supposed to be like, and it’s been nearly 30 years. I don’t think I’ll ever get to know how to solve this problem. So what’s left? Just that I am a personchild who suffers way too many emotional and psychological traumas, and needs to be treated so meticulously careful, but has a real big heart and got a lot of sagely fandom wisdom and life experiences to share, to anyone who would care to listen. That’s why I’m so strangely knowledgeable, yet immature and unsure about things all at once. I can only hope that’s fine or that you at least understand what’s up with me, because I can’t change this...and believe me, I’ve been trying. Frankly, it’s the concept of change that got me into all this mess, SO DO NOT EVER BRING UP THE TOPIC OF CHANGE TO ME PLEASE AND THANK YOU. 8) My blog is part of the Eternal Domain of Inazuma, get it?

-I am a multifandom blog! I had no idea that I had to specify this until perusing other blogs! I just thought it became clear by post variety. See how weird and old fashioned I’ve become? I didn’t think it would happen to me, but here we are, and it will happen to you too! get ready for that one kiddums. In any case, here are all of the fandoms and series in general that I’m into, though I have already posted a lot of trains. Did I mention I’m on the autism spectrum+adhd? Maybe even a bit bpd/schizo? Yes, very fun.

-Sometimes I am ultra fun, in a good mood and approachable, but sometimes I go entirely in reverse, depending on my general mood or if something outside of tumblr has occurred. I am sorry. This will likely be hard to follow, and the last thing I want is to make enemies out of friends over any amount of misunderstandings, but following a healthy routine, knowing what I’m comfortable with at all times, and trusting other people understand and know the same thing, and then above all getting to experience behaviour that feels right, is very important to me. I will do my very best to announce my state of being ahead of time so y’all will know, and hopefully the transitions will be smooth. In a less-than-this situation, I can’t really know what to do beyond freaking out and maybe bailing, so...the bottom point may give you better help to know how to handle me. I’m so sorry...

-I am severely damaged goods, and become a neurotic mess when attempting social interaction of all kinds, even here, because I have suffered a giant terrible history of unhealthy relationships, and while I know who I am and where I stand on things, life insists on only bringing dangerous, unhealthy, unprocessably unstable types my way to make my ability to reach my goal that much harder. It’s almost getting too unbearable for words, and I have been thinking of quitting people altogether. But if I did that. I know I would never reach the life goal I’ve always wanted; of having a stable group of friends who stick with me lifelong. That’s all I want, what everyone else I look at from afar seems to have. Yet life insists that hatred stubs my toes over and over again, and each repetitive pattern of trying so hard, getting so close, only to reach a disquieting change and leaves me rejected and failing is too much to go through. I can’t tell who even wants me anymore, and this has eaten away at me for my entire life. I can no longer tell if there’s anyone in the world at all who cares that I exist and wants me to be alive and happy, wants to be my friend for real and then continue to be so, or if people hate me for knowing myself so well and demanding that I get my fair treatment that I was promised my entire life. I have had enough of being the tossed-away outsider of my own life, and I aim to collect. I don’t want to put in the effort anymore just for someone else to make me fail at having this very thing that I, as a human, was supposed to have eons ago to be healthy. I don’t want to keep trying to open up just to be made to feel like I should regret doing so...it’s sick, cruel unusual punishment that I have never deserved to go through. And if I’m bothering to stay alive instead of (still wondering if I should really) ending it all, I expect to not be made to go alone. I am sick to death of being forced, bottlenecked into failure that is not even mine to experience when I know, after wasting my entire youth learning about it, I did all the right things that are considered normal and rational, never once diverging from my path. (what I mean is, I could maybe count on my fingers the few times I was truly responsible for a failure in my life, but the longer list actually comes from other people just...being a roadblock on my path? Being the one to come up with some insane, arbitrary excuse to just put a stop to my trajectory? To abruptly end the progress I go to war everyday just to begin?! do you see why I am concaved under so many mental issues that I am eternally complaining? really hope somebody’s paying attention instead of just reading...!) I do not like being alone, and I’ve been crying everyday since I’ve been effectively thrown out from my own comfortable life and forced into...this super-nightmare isolation. I’m an extrovert with introvert needs. Can you believe I’m actually an extrovert first, even when all of my other traits point otherwise? So all of that is where I need your assistance. I am horrifically broken to the point where I’ve been conditioned that “help” is actually an opening for someone else to “harm” instead. This is actually what I’ve experienced more of than anything that is normally expected. It is insane. I need you to retrain me on what it means to healthily interact, to know if and who actually cares about me beyond myself, to relearn everything on how people are supposed to behave and carry themselves around one another. Because I am still, after all this time, needing to learn that from someone trustworthy. I am trying to reply on you to be my “teacher” in this way, but as fair warning, I am already expecting the worst; I expect failure, dismay, peril, trauma, the works. I beg you, find a way to prove all of this wrong.

-I have a vast variety of interests, way too many words to describe it all, far too little time to do so, and an unbelievable amount of raw passion driving my interests...into a canyon. *pixel explosion effect* You’ll have to wait with bated breath to see just what topics I like the most, what things I have to say the most about, and even the things I don’t like/have interest in I have a lot to say on. I’m basically an infodump truck. Get ready for that lol

Will continually update this post to add other tidbits to know about me, as it is getting a bit tiring to type out already, and I need to make a fandom post list too. So all in all, I ask for careful trepidation so things aren’t unpleasant, and I have a dangerous amount of issues that I am working hard to solve, but inbetween that, I want to come off as a very positive, dedicated, reliable, and more trusting individual for for you to hang out with, share in the entertainment, and have a great time with. I don’t want to be just another one of the unstables, I want to regain my past stability in fact. And above all, I simply HAVE to do my part to make the world a happy safe place like I’ve always wanted. I’ve spent too long ruminating on everything, especially how much it doesn’t seem like the world is at all happy or safe. But I keep seeing hints and glimmers of proof that it could be, and we only need to exemplify that ourselves. Put in the work and do, not wish. We need to become what we want. I want to be the proof that good and justice wins over all evil in reality. Looks like I always take one the way-too-hard challenges...but I didn’t say it was impossible. And that hero’s optimism isn’t just shallow hope to be broken later, either. It’s not fake pleasantry. If there really are evil villains in our reality, right now, in this absolutely insane time period, doing all sorts of evil things that we only learned about through our favourite series, then that can only mean...

[kalee60]

Kalee. Kal. Hi. Hello.

So I recently got a Tiktok because all the kids these days are doing it and my sister keeps sending me videos 🤦🏼‍♀️🙄 I know.

Anyways

There’s apparently this challenge.

Kalee.

It’s a kiss your best friend challenge.

And all I can think is:

Steve and Bucky.

It could be canon verse. It could be an au.

But like imagine. If you haven’t seen the videos it’s super cute but also cringy because like what if it doesn’t go over well, it would be awkwardddd! They basically just film themselves hangout with their best friend and then try to kiss them and see if they’ve secretly been pining too.

Imagine.

Claire - my gorgeous pocket rocket from the Big Apple 🍎

This ask (that you sent eons ago) could not just be answered with a simple - 'omg, yes - I know right - it's the perfect Stucky scenario - someone should write it'... Because well - I guess somehow it turned out that I could write a little something...

I hope you enjoy this, because without your cheerleading, your throwing of pom poms and generally screaming at me in comments and on here - well writing wouldn't be half as much fun.

So for you Claire - enjoy this little story of two boys, a kiss in the making and a TikTok account 😘

~*~*~*~*~

Nerves rode Bucky as he placed his phone down into the perfect position; camera at the ready, not pressing record yet - but waiting for the signal. Steve was doing the exact same with his phone, only from a slightly different angle, setting it up for their parkour trick - something they were going to post to TikTok later. But although Steve was under the impression he was about to perform a flip off Bucky’s shoulders to grab hold of a tree branch then scale the fifteen foot wall beside it - Bucky had other ideas.

He’d seen a new TikTok challenge that week, it was plastered all over the platform and filled his suggested videos, and since the first time he’d watched one, then devoured another fifty straight away, he’d secretly wanted to do it. Wanted to throw all caution to the wind and seize the moment.

Today was that day.

Bucky Barnes was going to kiss Stevie Rogers right on the lips. His best friend since middle school, the boy, now man that he’d secretly loved for over a decade - and although Bucky could have thought of a million different ways to show Steve how he felt - he’d just never had the courage. At least if the video bombed, he could still put it up as a laugh and hopefully Steve would see the joke and it wouldn’t ruin their friendship - hopefully.

So Bucky waited for Steve to finish fiddling with his phone and camera positioning, which was taking him longer than usual to set up, trying to not let the butterflies in his gut take over.

Steve finally looked up, face flushed red like he’d already performed the stunt and Bucky was struck dumb, staring at how beautiful Steve was in the afternoon sunlight. He became lost in the way the shadows from the trees created patterns across Steve’s tightly toned body, the slight wind whispering to Bucky to take his chance, to not mess it up. And Steve stood before him like a golden god, nervously splaying his fingers, cracking his knuckles while staring back at Bucky with an unreadable expression on his face. Was he worried about their trick?

“You okay, Pal?” Bucky asked, his voice faltering with the knowledge he was about to change everything - or nothing.

Steve nodded, eyes wide and bright, darting over Bucky’s face, and Bucky took a moment to bask at being in Steve’s full attention.

“Yep,” Steve popped the ‘p’ and ran a hand through his hair, blonde strands sticking up comically, but Bucky didn’t laugh, he’d never seen someone as breathtaking as Steve did in that moment. 

Steve was Bucky’s true north, a steady and unrelenting force at his side - but it went both ways. They’d been through family deaths, relationship fallouts, fights and everything in between, but the one thing that was always unbroken - was they were in it together. No matter what life threw at them, Steve and Bucky were as solid as rock. Unshakable.

And Bucky was probably about to screw it all up.

They closed in on each other, coming to a standstill until only a foot separated them; Steve’s huge blue eyes darted quickly between Bucky’s; there was something different about the look, intense, and Bucky wondered if his own nerves were obvious and Steve was suddenly unsure about the acrobatic feat they were attempting.

“You still want to do this? Haven’t changed your mind?” Bucky asked to make sure, and was surprised when Steve licked his lips and shook his head emphatically.

“No, I’m sure - more sure than I’ve ever been about anything.”

Bucky smiled, Steve being dramatic about their parkour tricks was not unusual, but the way Steve’s cheek twitched and how his foot tapped on the ground was not normal behaviour. And Bucky couldn’t help but start to worry that his idea to surprise-kiss Steve wasn’t the greatest one, wasn’t something he should be trying, as it seemed Steve was janky - wound up.

“Alright, Stevie. If you’re sure.”

Resolve filled Steve’s features as they both turned on their cameras, and once set up, Steve took an almost hesitant step forward.

Bucky held his breath.

It was the moment of truth. 

They’d practised the trick so many times, had to start toe to toe for it to work, Steve pushing off Bucky to sprint to the wall, running vertically up the side of it, to twist around and jump off Bucky’s shoulders and flip onto the tree branch, shoving off it then using his momentum to run up the rest of the wall. Finally gripping the lip and climbing over it. 

They’d gone over it at least thirty times.

No injuries as of yet.

But this time, just as Steve pressed forward, Bucky yanked him in - at the exact same time as Steve flew forward, completely catching Bucky off guard as he was heading in the wrong direction than expected, he was moving towards Bucky instead of pushing away - and their heads slammed together with a loud thud.

And instead of taking the defeat of the moment graciously, Bucky was in too deep, had waited too long, had it all planned out - and so as Steve rubbed his forehead looking as mortified at what had transpired as Bucky, Bucky once again leant forward. Only to find Steve pitching towards him too, and for the second time in less than three seconds their skulls cracked against the other.

“- holy shit, Barnes. Are you going to let me kiss you or not?”

“- Steve you fucking menace, I’m trying to kiss you!”

The silence was deafening as their words mingled together and wide ocean blue eyes met stormy silt infused grey-blue ones in shock.

“- what did you…?”

“- did you just...?”

Once again talking at the same time, they both trailed off, and the words started to sink into Bucky’s fried brain. Steve was trying to kiss him. Him.

Slack jawed, he could only stare at Steve whose expression mimicked his own, clearly having come to the same realisation about Bucky. He managed to swallow the obscenely thick lump in his throat and with a small tremor in his hand, reached up to place it on Steve’s forehead where a red mark was forming - rubbing the spot gently with his thumb. Steve’s eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed.

With the last tendrils of fear slipping away, Bucky trailed his fingers down the side of Steve’s face before reaching behind his head, gripping the base of Steve’s neck. Then stopped.

Steve’s breathing laboured, coming in sharp and Bucky tightened his grip, loving the way Steve’s eyes fluttered half shut before they opened again, trying not to lose contact with Bucky’s.

Steve was stunning, so responsive and Bucky licked his lips, loving how Steve’s attention snagged on his mouth immediately.

“Can I?” Bucky husked, and Steve nodded jerkily when Bucky’s fingers played with the silky strands of Steve’s hair as he leant in.

The first meeting of their lips lacked the pain of slammed heads and teeth - but it was perfect in every way. Steve’s lips were plush, soft and pliant under Buckys as Bucky took control of the kiss, pressing forward into Steve’s heat. Bucky’s other hand came up to cup Steve’s face tenderly, unable to express how it felt to be kissing his lifelong friend after so many years of yearning for it, Bucky almost at the point where he thought it could never happen. The fact Steve kissed him back - enthusiastically, made his heart thump louder and harder until it was all he could hear in his mind.

After a moment, Bucky pulled away, resting his forehead on Steve’s, mindful of the tender place they’d cracked heads minutes earlier, and couldn’t stop the rasped laugh that escaped.

“You laughing at the way I kiss, Barnes?” Steve sassed with a smile in his voice.

Bucky chuckled, “no, not at all.” He paused a second to gather his thoughts, “I just can’t believe I set this up to kiss you on camera for TikTok, so damn nervous the whole time you’d freak out and punch me - and you were doing the exact same thing.”

Steve grinned and pulled away enough so that he could stare into Bucky’s eyes, the emotion shining from his beautifully clear expression stole the breath from Bucky’s lungs.

“How long?” Steve asked with a whisper. And Bucky wanted to lie, to tell him it wasn’t long, that he’d only just realised if only to stop himself looking too much like a sap.

He didn’t lie.

“The day you punched Deon Franklin when he asked me for a tongue kiss while calling me those terrible names.”

Steve’s stunned look spoke volumes, “Bucky. We were sixteen.”

“And…?” Bucky winced at Steve’s incredulous tone.

Suddenly Steve laughed hysterically, and Bucky started to back up, but before he got too far, Steve grabbed his biceps stopping him in his tracks. “Oh no you dont. You do know why I punched him right?”

“Because he was a dick?”

“Well apart from that.” Steve said wryly and took a deep breath, letting Bucky go. “It’s because he upset you. And I was desperate for your attention - wanted that kiss he so crudely demanded as a joke.”

“What…” Bucky stammered out, “You wanted me back then too?”

Steve smiled indulgently at him. “You didn’t think I stuck around just for your personality did you?”

Bucky roared with laughter, elated at the turn of events and grabbed Steve, slamming their mouths together, and soon the kiss morphed from chaste and exploratory to something meaner, something heavier. Pushing Steve up against the tree, the small noise from Steve’s throat as the bark dug into his skin set something feral off in Bucky and he kissed deeper, shoving his tongue further until both of them struggled for air.

A loud beeping infiltrated Bucky’s hearing and he reluctantly pulled away, adoring the slack jawed and glazed look in Steve’s eyes way too much. Wanting Steve to look up at him with that exact same expression but with a lot less clothing and a lot more privacy in place.

“Want to do the trick still?” Bucky questioned as he walked over and grabbed his phone to stop the alert that he was running out of video. When Steve didn’t answer he looked back over his shoulder and almost dropped his phone.

Steve was leaning limp against the tree, clearly half hard and staring after Bucky like he’d just gifted him the world. When in actual fact, it was Steve who’d done that for him.

Bucky stalked back over, gripping Steve’s chin, kissing him soundly one more time, and Steve immediately went pliant under his touch, oh boy, they were going to have so much fun.

“How about instead, we go back to mine and see what other tricks we can come up with?”

Steve’s breathing came in faster and harder and a broken ‘yes’ worked its way out of his throat, Bucky catching the word in his mouth as he kissed Steve again.

Bucky smirked as he pulled away, helping Steve stand upright.

“But, only on the condition that we tape it.” Steve said in a voice deep and rich, and Bucky was suddenly on the back foot when Steve smiled deliciously at him, eyes full of dirty promises.

Dry mouthed and vibrating from anticipation, Bucky followed Steve to his car, walking in a slight daze at what had transpired in only twenty minutes.

And all Bucky was certain of, was that although his TikTok kiss hadn’t gone to plan - everything else would fall into place.

Just the way it was meant to.

[casuallyimagining]

I Meant What I Said

Jeon Jungkook x Ace!Reader

Summary: For Jungkook, the scariest thing about this Halloween is thinking you’re mad at him. Notes: This was very self-indulgent, but I’ve been wanting to write something like this for a while. Hope you enjoy. This is part of the Long Term Couples series.  Read more here

The party was loud--almost too loud. Jungkook could barely think. His eyes scanned the bodies in the room. People were dancing, their costumes all matching the theme—the 1980s—and looking like Boy George himself had vomited neon and bad hairstyles all over everyone. In the far corner, someone dressed as an ‘80s home workout coach--Hoseok-hyung, his brain barely registered--was surrounded by people hanging on his every word. Not seeing what he was looking for, Jungkook began to wander.

He was mad at himself, but he wasn’t sure why. He knew he said something wrong, something that had made his best friend disappear. But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what that something was. Jungkook had even relayed the conversation to Jimin and Taehyung when they arrived at the party, but they either couldn’t or wouldn’t help him. So he was forced to wander through the sea of costumed bodies alone, searching for you.

“Your costume looks amazing. It would look better on my floor.” 

Jungkook replayed the brief conversation in his mind as he looked. You were dressed as Cyndi Lauper. It shouldn’t be this hard to find you.

He sighed. It was a joke, he thought you understood that. Looking back, though, he should have known that when your smile stopped meeting your eyes, you didn’t see it as a joke. Was it his tone? Admittedly, he was shamelessly flirting with you, but in his defense, you had never taken offence to his flirting before.

After years of friendship, he had finally gathered up the courage to ask you out a few months ago. If anyone asked you, you would probably say Jungkook had drunkenly confessed to you one early morning and you had humored him. He just hadn’t left your side since. You were his best friend and his most determined supporter. Jungkook had thought the relationship was going well--nothing much had changed between the friendship and the romance--and it killed him to think that maybe he had ruined everything with a stupid joke.

As Jungkook approached the door to the balcony, he heard Jin’s squeaky laugh. He peaked out and saw you and Jin sitting on a bench, drinks in your hands. For a moment, he paused in the doorway, unsure if he should approach you.

Just as he was about to turn away, you noticed him standing there. A small smile played at the corner of your lips, and Jungkook couldn’t help but return it. Jin stood, then, and after making some excuse about having to find Namjoon, he hugged you tightly and slipped back inside.

It was quiet out on the balcony with the eldest member gone. The late October air was chilly, and Jungkook was glad that he had chosen a lazy Freddy Krueger costume--the oversized sweater, though itchy, kept him warm. Silently, he found himself drifting towards the railing of the balcony. As much as he wanted to talk to you, he thought better of it.

What if you were still mad at him?

The property Bang PD had rented for the party was gorgeous. The trees were lit up with purple and orange spotlights, casting long shadows on the lawn below. Pumpkins--some carved, some not--littered the patio below the balcony. Close-by, someone had constructed some sort of spooky maze in the foliage.

After a moment, he felt you gently brush against his shoulder as you leaned against the railing beside him. You sighed, and he watched you rub the side of your nose out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, keeping his eyes on the trees.

You froze, your hand still under your eye. “What?”

“I’m not entirely sure what I did, but you’re mad at me, and I’m sorry.”

He turned to look at you then. Your face was full of confusion as your eyes scanned his features, focus flitting back and forth between his eyes. Eventually, you found what you were looking for--though what that was, Jungkook had no idea--and your eyes met his own. You mumbled a soft “Oh, Jungkook,” before turning your head away to look down at the cup in your hands.

You leaned even more into the balcony railing as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. He could practically see the gears turning in your head, could see the thoughts pop into and out of existence, could see the war you were waging with yourself in your mind.

“I need you to know that this isn’t your fault,” you said finally, refusing to look at him. Your voice was steady and without emotion, almost as if you’d practiced what you wanted to say. “And I also need you to know that I didn’t intend for this conversation to happen like this. I should have told you this a long time ago.”

It was Jungkook’s turn to be confused. He had no idea what you were talking about. Were you cheating on him? Did you not want to be in a relationship with him? Were you living some sort of double life? Luckily for him, you only took a moment to collect your thoughts before continuing.

“I don’t want this to ruin things,” you said carefully, picking at your nails. It was one of your nervous habits, and normally, he found it endearing. But right now, he was just nervous. “But I’m also not an idiot. I understand if it does.”

“Does…?”

“Ruin things. If you don’t want to do this anymore, I’ll understand.”

“Jagi, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jungkook reached out and smoothed the side of your hair that wasn’t teased to hell and back. He felt you tense under his touch. It was so brief, he thought maybe he imagined it, but the look on your face made it clear that he didn’t. You sighed as he retracted his hand.

“I’m asexual.” Your tone was methodical. If someone had just been listening to the conversation, they might even have mistaken it for casual. But Jungkook could see the way you blink a little faster, the way your eyes darted in the opposite direction of him, the way your arms wrapped around yourself. This was not the first time you’d had this conversation. Or, maybe it was, and you cared more about his opinion than you’d care to admit.

You continued before he could respond. “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but I didn’t want to make it seem like I’m leading you on, y’know? I mean, we’ve been friends for years now and like… you’ve told me about your other girlfriends and… everything… and I-I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about us. About me.”

“Jagi-”

“So, I mean, I understand if you want to go back to just being friends. I get it. I’ll be okay.” You nodded, and Jungkook could tell you were trying to convince yourself more than him. Suddenly, you were very interested in the empty cup in your hands. “I should go get a drink.”

You moved to brush past him, but he caught your wrist and you froze. He said your name gently, but there was a firmness to it that kept you in place, even when he pulled his hand away from your arm. You stood there in silence for what felt like eons. He watched you avoid his gaze.

Jungkook sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” He spoke softly, trying his best not to set you off into another panic-induced ramble.

“It didn’t matter. And then it did. And the more I put it off, the harder it got.”

His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb ghosting over your cheekbone. You could feel his gaze on you. When your eyes finally met his, you could see the emotion in them.

“You thought... what? That I’d leave?” You shrugged, chewing on your lip nervously. He sighed again. “Jagi, I don’t care if you don’t want to have sex with me.”

A look of confusion crossed your face. “You… don’t?”

“I mean, I do.” He could feel his face heating up. “But not if you don’t want to. Not if it makes you uncomfortable.”

For a moment, the sparkle came back to your eyes and Jungkook could feel his heart soar. But then you frowned again.

“What if you change your mind?” It was more of a statement than a question, and a small piece of him broke as he realized that maybe you weren’t used to being loved like that. Maybe you weren’t used to someone understanding. A small piece of him wanted to rage against society, to burn it all to the ground, if it would help you feel better.

“Then we’ll talk about it like adults.” He pulled you to him suddenly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Fuck fucking. I’ve loved you for so long, I just want to be with you.” Your hands froze on his waist at his confession, but he only squeezed you tighter. “Maybe I will change my mind. In a year, five years, whatever. But we’ll talk about it. Fuck, we’ll get therapy if we have to.”

He fell silent, then, but continued to hold you to him. After a moment of quiet, he felt you relax. Your arms snaked slowly around his waist. And while it was clear to him you were still a little conflicted, you had opened up to him. And that was a start.

“Jesus, jagi. I thought you were mad at me,” he breathed. He felt you shake your head against him before burying your face into his neck.

As the silence enveloped the two of you again, Jungkook’s mind wandered. The music was so loud inside, it was amazing how quiet it was on the balcony, even with the door open. Slowly, he started to sway your bodies to the beat of the song, some American pop number he recognized but didn’t really know. One of his hands found its way into your hair, the other rubbed lazy circles into your back.

“I hope you know you can trust me,” he whispered into your hair. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I know we’re dating, but you’re my best friend first.”

You squeezed him around the middle in acknowledgement. Jungkook leaned back, holding you at arms’ length so he could look at your face. Your hands balled in the hem of his sweater that hung loosely around his waist. Your eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and you looked happy—genuinely happy. He smiled gently.

“I meant what I said. I love you, jagi.”

Your breath audibly caught in your throat. For a moment, Jungkook was disappointed you didn’t respond to him in kind. But looking closer, he saw the depth in your eyes, felt your hands grip his sweater tighter. Maybe you weren’t ready to say it yet, but Jungkook could feel it.

Read more of the series here

[thesassenachswiftie]

Lover - Chapter 8: “Me!”

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7

Summary: Jamie and Claire are finally reunited!! We left our lovers under the bleachers, where Claire whispered "take me home." I'm sure you can imagine where this is going. 🔥

Notes:Thanks so much for reading and bearing with me through all the angst!! If you have issues with smut, maybe skip this chapter (the very beginning and very end are safe, but not much in between). 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Follow me on Twitter (sassenachswifty) because I need more friends on there.

Chapter 8: Me!

In spite of the chill in the air, Jamie felt warm for the first time in months.  He had been living in winter and Claire was his summer--returned to him after their time apart. Somewhere in the distance, a teenager reluctantly shouted “strike the band up...1,2,3”; from the sound of it, the game had ended and the marching band was playing the crowd out. They had already made their way to the parking lot and arrived there before the throng, Jamie’s arm firmly planted around Claire the whole time. Jamie didn’t ever want to let her go again. He opened his car door for her in the parking lot and winced to let her go for the few moments it took to walk around the car to the driver’s seat. Once inside the car, he planted his right hand firmly on her left.  He never let go for the entire ride back to his apartment, caressing her hand gently with his thumb and stealing glances at her at every stop light. He could still hardly believe she had come back to him. He never wanted to see her walk away again. The last time they had been in a car together she wouldn’t let him touch her--would they have even been apart if she had? Having that physical connection made open and honest conversation easier between them. “Claire, are you really here? Are you really mine?”

“Jamie, when you ran after me and called my name, that was it for me. I couldn’t run away again; I couldn’t leave well enough alone even if I wanted to. I don’t know what it is between us. It’s not usual. It’s different.”

“Aye, I ken what you mean, Sassenach.” he briefly pulled the hand he’d been holding to his lips, kissing just under the knuckles.

Claire laughed gently, “one of these things is not like the others” she chanted, smirking.

“Well, there’s a lot of lame guys out there” he chucked back to her. “Babydoll, when it comes to a lover I promise that you’ll never find another like me.” Jamie was beaming, his world felt like a rainbow with all of the colors now that his Claire, his sorcha, his light was back in his life.

“Mmm… I don’t doubt it.” She closed her eyes, picturing just the kind of lover he was, grinning and blushing as she imagined where they would end up this evening. “I don’t doubt it one bit.”

           When they arrived in the driveway below his apartment Jamie was again remiss to let go of Claire’s hand to exit the car. Immediately, their arms were around each other again as they made their way up the narrow staircase to Jamie’s above-garage apartment. As soon as they closed the door behind them, Jamie grabbed Claire’s curly mane and brought her lips to his own, kicking off his shoes as he did so and guiding her into the studio apartment towards his bed. Their lips only separated to pull clothing over heads in a whirlwind of passion--a coat on the floor in the entryway, a shirt draped over the kitchen chair, a pair of jeans strewn across the coffee table, Claire’s bra discarded on an end table. Panting, they arrived at the bed where Claire sat and peeled off her skinny jeans and underwear before assisting Jamie in stripping off his boxer briefs. He stood before her beside the bed and she lay back. For a moment, they stared at each other, taking in the sight of each other's naked bodies, comparing them with their memories of a month ago. Jamie was the first to break the silence. “Sassenach, I’m bewitched by you--completely under your spell.”

           Claire reached up for his forearm, pulling him down on top of her, “Mmm… Spelling is fun” she cooed, pulling him in for another impassioned kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist and they began rubbing against each other’s most sensitive areas. Claire had been so deprived of pleasure in the past month, she felt that just this simple action could be enough to take her over the edge. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Jamie felt the same, feeling just how much he wanted her against her.

           “Christ Sassenach”, he whispered in her ear, moving to kiss her earlobe, and down her neck. He adjusted his position to keep himself from finishing too soon, allowing her to rub on his strong thigh instead as his lips made their way to her breasts. He kissed and sucked each nipple generously, settling to work on the right one while his left hand caressed the other.  He devoured her skin ravenously; this was a meal he hadn’t had in a month and it was more delectable than he remembered. After satisfying both her breasts, her nipples engorged and erect, he continued kissing down to her stomach, her hips, her thighs, her inner thighs. He knew he was teasing her, but every inch of her skin was missed and delicious to him, he wanted to savor every bit of her. Feeling Jamie explore these untouched places caused Claire to involuntarily giggle, the scruff of his chin and delicate caress of his tongue tickling those sensitive spots. “I will never tire of your wee noises, Sassenach”

           “I do not make wee-e-e, oo- oo- oo--” Claire’s protestations were interrupted by Jamie’s mouth finally making its way to that bundle of nerves she had been anticipating for what simultaneously felt like moments and eons. Claire panted and hummed as he sucked and licked, knowing just when to change pressure to keep her pleasured yet wanting more. Finally, he brought her to that place where she saw stars behind her eyelids, and cried out his name in pure ecstasy.

           “Ya do make wee noises, Sassenach, and baby, that’s the fun of you.” he stated smugly, clearly proud of himself for eliciting such a reaction from her.  

           “I know I tend to make it about me, but allow me to return the favor, my darling” she elicited, sitting up and moving to her knees on the floor, beside the bed.

           “Who would I be to deny the lady’s request?” he mused, taking her position on the bed.  

           “God Jamie! It’s bigger than I remember!” she exclaimed, taking his cock in her and gently stroking it.

           “I know, I’m a handful, baby uh--” he groaned as she took him between her lips, “and a mouthful, apparently.” He attempted to wink at her for the second time that evening, his owl-like expression and smug smile meeting her whiskey eyes staring up at him. Using her hand to grasp and stroke his base in time with her mouth on his shaft, she ran her tongue and lips along him until he was the one letting out unrecognizable noises and sharp inhalations. He tangled his fingers in her curls as if he were holding on for dear life. “Oh God Claire!” he cried out, spilling into her mouth.  She swallowed, wiping her lips after releasing him. They were both breathless. He drew her up onto the bed with him and then down to collapse on the bed in his arms.  

“Come here, mo nighean donn, let me keep you company.” He brought his lips to hers for the umpteenth time that evening, worming his tongue between her lips.  They shared another passionate kiss, this time slow and lingering, savoring the taste of themselves on each other’s lips--something that was new for Claire.

“No one’s ever done that before,” she rasped when they released.

“Done what?” he questioned, his blue eyes peering deep into her whiskey-colored ones.

“Kissed me after… well, after what I just did to you.” Claire, blushed, averting her eyes to his piercing gaze.

“There’s a lot of lame guys out there, Sassenach. I’d kiss ya even if you just ate a tuna sandwich with onions dipped in garlic and topped with stinky cheese, this is nothing.”

Claire exploded with laughter at his comment. “Mmmm… how appetizing,” she sputtered sarcastically between her chuckles. She’d missed how fun he was to be around.  He certainly would never bore her. She’d forgotten how wonderful it was to laugh in his arms, in his bed. When was the last time she laughed? Had it really been since that night in Montauk? The night she didn’t think before she jumped in and told him she loved him? The same night she also thought too much and decided to ruin everything? How had he allowed her back into his arms so easily after what she’d done to him. She was lying beside him now--her curls and one of her delicate hands spilling over his firm chest, and he was gently stroking her hair. “Why’d you let me come back to you Jamie? You could have anyone else, you’re the kind of guy the ladies want. Why me? After all I put you through.”

He pulled her chin up so their eyes could meet. “In truth, I don’t always ken myself.  I’ll admit I was angry after I found out what ya did to me, but I meant what I said earlier. I forgive you. I can understand why you did it, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it too--even if the circumstances weren’t exactly my idea of honorable. I’m glad you told me though--I felt I hated you for it at first, but it’s better to be honest with each other.”

“I’m so sorry Jamie, I should have never toyed with your honor like that. All I could think of that first night was how much I wanted you, but it shouldn’t have been like that. I should have left Frank right then and there. I’m afraid I was a coward.” she admitted. “I’m afraid you never get just what you see with me, but I want to change that. I don’t want to lie to you anymore. I feel like my heart and my head have been battling since we met and I’ve only been able to show you one or the other. Like I’ve been two completely different people. I want to be able to show you all of me, the only one of me.”

“I’d like that very much, Sassenach” there was a truth in her eyes that he saw and understood. For the first time in their torrid relationship, she was completely vulnerable and exposed to him. Free from the weight of any hidden baggage, the air around them felt light, like they could float together, right off the bed and into the stratosphere. Everything was out in the open and they were free to just be. Claire felt it too, the weight that had been bearing down on her their whole relationship was gone from this meeting. She had aired her dark secrets and he still accepted her in spite of her shortcomings.

Jamie pulled her into a kiss--slow, lingering, passionate. Their tongues danced lazily, in no rush to do anything but enjoy each other’s company. Carefully, Jamie rolled Claire onto her back, positioning himself on top of her. He began to kiss, suckle and roll his tongue across her earlobe, causing her to moan and squeak with pleasure and anticipation. He brought his hand to the space in between her legs, gently stroking the place he knew she wanted him too, caressing the moist folds of her skin, teasing around her entrance with his fingertips. “Jamie” she whispered in his ear, “I want you inside me--please.”

He guided himself inside her in one smooth stroke. Their bodies quickly found a gentle rhythm, synchronizing completely as if they were created to fit together, two halves of the same whole joining. They had started their evening at homecoming, but now they were coming home. Their desire for each other swelled and grew together and the pace of their movements followed. “Don’t stop, Jamie!” Claire cried out, on the edge of her passion.

“I won’t stop, baby.” he panted back to her, nearing his own precipice. Moments later, Claire let out a piercing cry of his name, fingers clawing into his shoulders, her whole body squirming with pleasure. That was more than Jamie needed to bring him toppling over the edge with her, his own pleasure bursting behind his eyes.

He dismounted from her, handing her a box of tissues from the nightstand so they could clean themselves up, and laying on his side next to her, his curly red mop propped up on his large hand, taking in the naked beauty lying beside him. “I’m so glad you’ve come back to me, mo nighean donn.” He gently stroked the skin of her breast.

“I didn’t think you’d miss me after a time, you’re a very attractive man, and there’s a lot of cool chick’s out there. Surely, you could have found someone else.”

“There is only one of you, Sassenach.” he smirked, kissing her curly mane “no one else could compare.”

They continued to lie together in silence. Jamie continued softly caressing Claire’s milky skin, taking in everything inch of her, memorizing her every curve. Eventually Claire broke the silence.

“Jamie?” there was a hint of anxiety in her tone.

“What is it, mo chirde?”

“When are you leaving?” she whimpered.

“Not for another few weeks yet, I’ll help Jenny and Ian with the pumpkin harvest but I have to be back before the end of the month to get my wee tree farm up and running before my own busy season. It seems to be starting earlier each year.” he mused. Jamie ran a Christmas Tree farm on the outskirts of London, something Claire had learned the night they met.

“What happens then? With us?” There was a pleading in her golden eyes as she looked into his.

“Och! A wee ocean isn’t going to stop the way I feel about you.” he insisted, kissing her forehead. “It’ll be different, yes, but I’ll call you every night, and we can visit each other when you have breaks from school, right?”

“That sounds like it could work. I’ll miss this though.” She ran her hand up and down his body, making it clear exactly what she met.

“And I’ll miss this.” He reached around her body, taking a generous handful of her arse. “I swear we’ll make this work, Claire; I never want to be parted from you again.” In truth, he was imagining her joining him in England. Making space for her in his home. Perhaps she would grow a small herb garden behind the kitchen, and they’d laugh together as he washed dishes and she dried in the evenings. Eventually, they’d have a bairn or two running around the place, keeping them on their toes. It was all so beautiful and real in his head, but he knew it was too soon to ask. He knew it would be a huge decision for her and she’d been through so much in the past few months, he didn’t need to throw her a curveball like that. She had only just returned to him, only just been able to open up to him. For now, all he could do was silently vow that someday, he would make that fantasy a reality.

----------

           Jamie and Claire continued kissing, caressing, and humming sweet words into each other’s ears well into the small hours of the night. They enjoyed each other’s company more than they ever had before now that the walls between them had crumbled. Eventually, the week caught up with Claire and she fell asleep before Jamie did, using his shoulder as a pillow.  Jamie stayed awake, taking her in, stroking her soft curls, and imagining their future together.  When he was sure she was asleep, he kissed her cheek softly and whispered in her ear, “I promise that nobody’s gonna love you like me.”

[kiranatrix]

Technology Liaison

Written for @deathnotetober [Day 3-- Leather]

Characters: Light and Ryuk / Rating: G

-------

“Ryuk, what exactly is the Death Note made of?” Light paused in his writing, swiveling his desk chair to face the shinigami lounging on his bed. It had taken no time at all for Ryuk to make himself at home in Light’s room.

“Eh?” Ryuk licked some apple bits off his chops. “Uhhh...lemme think.” He wracked his brain— or whatever shriveled up organ was up there— while tapping a long talon against his teeth. “I dunno.”

Light sighed, “You’re really useless, you know that?” He turned back to look at the Death Note, closing it to get a better look at the cover under his desk lamp. His curiosity had been piqued and now it was bothering him. “The pages feel like paper but you said they continually replace themselves so it can’t really be paper.”

“Uh huh. Yup, I did say that.” Ryuk couldn’t remember saying that but Light was correct so he must have at some point. “Makes more pages when you fill ‘em up. Convenient, right?”

“And the outside cover...it feels like leather.” Light traced his fingers over the embossed white letters and the pebbly black cover. “Are there cows in the Shinigami realm?”

“What’s a cow?” Ryuk scratched his chin until he suddenly remembered. “Oh that’s right, that  big animal that’s kinda dumb, eats all day, lazes around?”

“Sort of reminds me of someone else,” Light snickered. “But do you have any where you’re from? Or any animals?”

“Nope!” Ryuk tossed back another apple, crunching it loudly as he talked. “Nothin’ but dust and shinigami up there. Told you it was boring.”

“I guess it’s not leather then.” Light tried to scratch the surface of the notebook with the tip of his mechanical pencil but it didn’t make a mark. “And indestructible?”

“Naw, fire can destroy it. Don’t see what you’d wanna go and do that for though.” Ryuk eyed him warily. If Light burned it up then his precious fun would be over.

“Don’t worry, I’m not thinking of doing that.” Light tore off a piece of the Death Note’s paper and dropped it in his glass of water, watching it sink. “The paper doesn’t get soggy either, hmm.”

Ryuk floated over to look in the glass as well. “Whatcha care so much for? The notebook does what you want it to do. Pfft, never had a human be so curious about it before.”

“You’ve given others the notebook before?” Light looked up with real interest. He loved to hear that he stood out among Ryuk’s other humans. “Who? When?”

“Against the rules to tell you their names. Nobody real memorable, though.” Ryuk hovered in mid-air on his side, head propped up in his hand. “But, uh…it was probably several of your human centuries ago. Passed like a flash for us.”

“Hmm.” Light flipped back to the first page, which had been blank when he’d gotten it and was now filled with names. “The Death Note couldn’t have looked like this several centuries ago. It’s meant to look like a modern school notebook, from this era.”

“Nope.” Ryuk snapped his fingers and the Death Note in Light’s grasp suddenly morphed into a heavier tome, with gold script lettering on a red leather cover. “Looked like that.” He snapped again and it became a scroll of thick, rough paper, tied in the middle with a black ribbon. “And like this, the time before. Think the first time I dropped one down it became some kinda rock, hyuk hyuk. Had to be more careful where I tossed it.”

“A rock!” Light gazed at the Death Note in awe as it flashed through earlier and earlier iterations, until indeed there was a flat, square rock in his hand. “What did they do, carve names into it?”

“Uh huh. Took a little while and wasn’t as sneaky as what you got. You’re lucky huh!” Ryuk laughed and changed it back into the recognizable slim black notebook.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Light wasn’t really any closer to understanding what the Death Note was made of, but it wasn’t any substance found on Earth. “I wonder what will happen when nobody writes anything anymore. People use computers more and more these days, Ryuk. Eventually humans might forget how to write by hand at all.” He grinned at the worried look on the shinigami’s face, teasing, “Maybe in the future it’ll have to be a digital Death Note or you won’t get to have any fun.”

“Wha?? I don’t think the Shinigami King knows anything about computers!” Ryuk briefly stuck his head inside Light’s desktop computer, groaning at all the complicated wires and circuits. “Damn. Maybe I should bring this up at the next shinigami committee meeting.”

“Committee meeting?” Light giggled. “Are you serious?”

“We have ‘em once an eon or two. Justin Armonia sure has fun gripin’ about how lazy we are and how the Realm’s gone to hell.” Ryuk wasn’t sure another meeting was coming up anytime soon, though. “But Justin don’t know about computers either.”

“Sounds like your King needs a human who does.” Light smiled and leaned back in his chair, an interesting idea springing to mind. “A human who isn’t afraid of your kind and could teach you about technology.”

“I guess so, but…well then they’d have to come to the Shinigami Realm and we’re supposed to send ‘em to Mu after we write their names.”

Light frowned slightly, pretending to be dismayed. “That’s too bad. Guess the shinigami won’t be able to keep up with the times much longer.” He turned back to the notebook, humming to himself as he got back to writing. Any moment now.

“Uh…what about you? You’re good with that stuff, aren’t ya?” Ryuk poked Light in the arm hopefully. The prospect of not being able to come back and watch a human use his notebook—ever again!— was too awful to entertain.

“Yeah, but like you said, I wouldn’t be any good at helping the King if I’m in Mu.” Light turned on his TV to watch the news, acting completely nonchalant. “Pity.”

Ryuk was quiet for a while, looking between Light and the notebook and the TV. “Guess we’ll talk about that when you die.”

Light looked up with a slight smirk, nothing too obviously triumphant. “Guess so.”

[foreverandaday-1]

Tenderly They Turned To Dust All That I Adored

Inspired by @julielilac s post/gif on the doctor and the master. The first 14 lines of a dialogue are hers, with a few minor changes.

I kind of went on a tangent, and turned this into a weirdly tense hurt/comfort fic, but oh well. Also inspired by my Renamed fic on AO3, under foreverandaday_1

‘Doctor,’ came a voice from the shadowed corner.

‘We meet at last,’ said the woman, equally as wary, yet with a predatory sharpness to her eyes. She wanted answers, and she would get them.

‘I’d like to say I’m glad to see you, but I’m not,’ he said, a slight teasing note, something comfortable but still wary.

‘Shame. I was actually hoping for a welcome for a welcome kiss,’ she returned, voice relaxed slightly.

‘Oh really?’ was his reply, full of put-on amusement to mask the confusion at her unusual playfulness. Yet playfulness wasn’t right, unless describing the way a lion played with its soon-to-be-dead food.

‘I was joking,’ her tone was back to serious.

‘Right. So why are you here then?’

‘I’m looking for answers and you are well aware of this. Who or what the timeless child is, and why you destroyed our home,’ she raised her eyebrows, as if offended by his question, it was obvious what she wanted.

He huffed out a laugh, looking amused. She didn’t notice his slight twinge when moving his ribs.

‘Also, what happened to your hair?’ curiosity was evident in her voice, and she was trying not to compliment him. Luckily she was distracted by the hopefully-soon-to-be-given answers.

‘There were difficulties in escaping from the Kasaavin Dimension.’

‘And yet you were able to escape?’

He huffed, ‘no thanks to you.’

‘You were expecting me to help? Why would I put you somewhere, that took effort and time, just to bring you back out again? A little counterproductive don’t you think?’

‘As if I’d want help from you.’

She smirked, ‘so no help with your injury?’

‘What injury?’ he played off.

‘You’re ribs, I saw you wince.’

‘I’m perfectly capable, thanks.’

‘Manners? Take off your shirt Kos.’

‘Trying to undress me?’

She sighed, crossing her arms.

‘I’m fine.’ 

She raised her eyebrows.

‘Ok, ok, maybe I could collapse within an hour, but it’s not that bad.’

‘Shirt. Off.’

‘Fine. you’re ever so bossy, love. I can’t say it’s just in this regeneration either.’

She ignored his comments, and, thankfully, only slightly affected by the pet name. ‘That looks painful. No wonder you were wincing,’ she moved closer, ‘go lay on the table.’

He rolled his eyes before doing as she said, flinching slightly as he bent his torso. She prodded at the bruised skin of his chest. There was a slightly green glow coming from the deep purple bruised across his lower right ribs. She tried not to enjoy inflicting pain, but sometimes it was nice to have revenge, even if that reinstated her hypocrisy. 

‘So,’ he said after a few minutes, ‘you going to do anything?’

‘I want an explanation of what the hell happened to you later.’

‘Of course, love.’

Well there’s an easier way and a harder way.’

‘For me or for you?’

‘Easy for me, painful for you. Easy for you, stupid for me.,’ she tilted her head, thinking. His mental barriers were just out of reach. Even though it was a bad idea to get closer again, she wanted to. The last time before the Paris thing had been centuries ago, and sometimes her mind felt empty. Lonely without another presence.

‘Well I vote the least painful way.’

‘For me or for you?’ her voice was looser and calmer, she was relaxed in his presence. It probably wasn’t the best idea but it was as if they were young again, without the millennia of pain and fire separating the strands of time.

He smirked at that, looking like he wanted to laugh. She walked towards his head with a contemplative expression, before voicing her thoughts.

‘There’s a quick way, and it’s not like I don’t have any left. Who knows how many I actually have.’

He grimaced, ‘about that…’

‘What?’

‘You have an infinite amount.’

‘I’m going to ignore the fact that you shouldn’t know that, and jump straight to what the hell?’

‘That's not for today's conversation, because I also happen to have none.’

‘You have, but… If you die, you’ll be dead?’

‘That is how death works, love.’

She rolled her eyes, ‘I mean, permanently, no resurrection or trick or stupidly thought out yet genius plan to surprise me again?’

‘No, dead as in gone forever.’

‘But you can’t,’ she said thickly, almost crying for the first time, she realised, with this particular face.

He looked shocked that she was actually voicing some feeling for once.

‘Koschei,’ she said, looking in his eyes, voice carrying the musical lilt of Galifreyan, ‘you can’t die, not now.’ Not ever.

He smiled at the language, one that they hadn’t spoken for a long time. It was a genuine smile, not seen for as equally as long of a time.

‘You said you had an idea, Theta,’ he said softly, comforting with a press of his consciousness against hers.

‘I,’ she sniffed, ‘ when River… you know who she is right?’

He nodded, ‘one of three humans I can tolerate, yes.’

‘Because River had… weird genes… when she broke her wrist, I used regeneration energy to heal it. I wasn’t able to regenerate for a few hours after, or heal as fast, but it worked.’

‘Awfully sentimental of you.’

‘She was important, and had pretended to be fine for my benefit.’ she paused, before looking up at him. ‘How come you don’t mind that I married her?’

‘While I may hate your pets because they don’t deserve your attention, she was different. She was important to you, and not a pet of yours. I could actually get on with her, and have an intelligent conversation.’

She smiled, happy that two people that shaped her life could have gotten along.

‘Now love, enough of the emotion, we should get to your plan.’

‘I can use my, apparently limitless, regeneration energy to heal you. It might have to be a full one, to properly work, but I don’t think you’ll change,’ she sounded happier, a slight touch of sarcasm evident in her voice.

‘Won’t that mean you can’t regenerate for a while? Or that you’ll regenerate with me?’

‘Possibly. But, again with River, when she revived me, she didn’t change.’

‘What?’

‘She may have killed me after regenerating before giving up all of hers to bring me back to life.’

‘Ignoring the fact that she of all people managed to actually kill you for the first time in all of history…’

‘It’s probably why Daleks seem terrified of her,’ she cut in.

‘... yes, but you need a mental and physical connection.’

‘Yep, full open contact between consciousnesses, and a close physical contact, with as many inner surfaces close.’

‘You and River, properly married?’

‘Yeah, Bonded and everything. It was partly in a separate timeline that no longer exists and also never existed.’

‘Okay, but, love, mouth to mouth?’

‘I wasn’t entirely joking when I mentioned a welcome kiss earlier.’

‘I didn’t think so.’

They stayed close together, and she stood by his form laying on the table, hands clasped in each others. They reached out their minds, before he sat up, wincing. Both closed their eyes, physical sight wasn’t needed. 

They leaned together, hand-to-hand, forehead-to-forehead, hearts-to-hearts.

‘Contact.’

Contact.

They both whispered it quietly, and spoke loudly in their minds. Volume didn’t matter as much as intent did. Intent to re-bond completely after a lifetime of mental separation. It took both eons, and no time at all.

It was an explosion of thought and feeling. A sensation unlike any other, yet reminiscent of coming home. A sense of welcoming in a place long forgotten yet forever remembered. A contradiction and cycle, of my thought is yours, your thought is mine. Memories were absorbed, and information shared.

She tugged on the always-there well of energy, as if waking it up. It swirled within her, before spreading out to her limbs, gathering at her fingertips. 

His hands glowed the same pale gold, as the tangible glow drew up his arms. They pushed closer still, tilting their necks to have better access.

Her lips pressed to his. His lips pressed to hers.

The energy pushed through completely, moving around them both. A swirl of pale gold and a feeling of life hanging in the air.

The glow collected around his injury, the bruised fading, sickly green hue leached away. Small scars knitted seamlessly, and any more bruises disappeared. His ribs shifted slightly, returning to their original position.

After a few seconds, minutes, hours, she stepped back. Not just one, but continually walking back to the door.

‘It’s not the time to ask,’ she smiled with an air of bittersweetness. ‘We’ll find each other when we’re ready.’

[dwollsadventures]

Of all the Mesopotamian gods and monsters, Tiamat is the most well-known. Mostly because she is both a god and a monster. In the Akkadian religion Tiamat was originally a primordial figure, a goddess symbolizing salt water. In the beginning of the cosmos the salt water of Tiamat mixed with the freshwater of Apsu (an event actually seen in the Persian Gulf). There the two sat and slept, basking in each other's presence. There was no Earth, no Heaven, no light. Only a dark, warm swirling of water, reminiscent of both the beginning of the universe and the womb. Among the pair's offspring was Lahmu and Lahamu, who went on to give rise to the new generation of gods, the earthly and heavenly ones. Apsu planned to kill his children, as gods of the Near East are wont to do, but was slain before he could carry out the theocide. In revenge Tiamat rose up, birthed a legion of monsters (see all previous entries), and sought to carry out Apsu's original plan. In her possession she had the Tablet of Destinies, which granted the holder dominion over the cosmos, a clay "crown" of the divine right to rule. Tiamat was a terrible force to reckon with. The earthly and heavenly gods needed a hero to save them. So they called upon Anu. Or was it Enlil? No, it was Marduk! Marduk came as slew Tiamat with a club in a gruesome fashion. Her armies were summarily bound and shackled to his feet. Forevermore they would serve his as the demons and monsters of the new age. For, after the battle, Marduk took the Tablet of Destinies and Tiamat's body to make the Earth as we know it. Ribs became the firmament of heaven and earth, eyes became the gushing Tigris and Euphrates, and her coiled tail became the Milky Way. Despite being called a primordial goddess, Tiamat was probably never worshipped. She has her origins with the older Sumerian goddess Nammu. Nammu filled a very similar role to the Sumerians but never as a monstrous figure. Salt water is their connecting force, which the combined Mesopotamian religion considered both instrumental to the formation of life, as well as dangerous and terrible. Freshwater, apsu, was considered life-giving and sacred, a whole ocean of it was said to lie beneath the earth to supply it with life. Saltwater meanwhile was complementary but less inviting. It can't be drunk and it kills crops, it does not serve humanity. The life that comes from it is similar: numerous and terrifying demons. Tiamat's name is literally derived from tāmtu, meaning sea. A similar concept sharing the same origin can be found in the "tehom" of genesis. 

Several recurring themes show up in Tiamat's story: that of the father of the gods looking to slay the new generation, the primordial being slayed and divided up to make the earth, but arguably the most famous, that of the god-hero slaying the primordial serpent. A theme known as "Chaoskampf" in German. Here the serpent represents /chaos/: the shapeless buildings blocks of the universe, the wide expanse of the uninhabitable cosmos, every part of the world too harsh and dangerous for humanity to survive in. As the ocean incarnate Tiamat is a perfect example of this chaos. But is she a serpent? It's a little unclear. In the Enuma Elish her form is specified once and is ambiguous. She has "a tail, a thigh, lower parts, a belly, an udder, ribs, a neck, a head, a skull, eyes, nostrils, a mouth, lips, viscera, a heart, arteries, and blood". Which... isn't all that descriptive. Excluding the udder, all those things can be found in nearly every land mammal and most reptiles. The inclusion of the udder, however, leads me to believe Tiamat is a cow. Or possibly a goat. Kidding aside (although... her being a primordial cow who brings forth saltwater from her udders wouldn't be that out of pocket for comparative mythology...), the shape most given to Tiamat is that of a serpent. Unfortunately, there doesn't appear to be any definitive depictions of her. The one most identified with her, a cylinder seal from the Neo-Assyrian period, depicts a classical usumgallu, but does not offer any positive indication that it is indeed Tiamat. Because of how unclear the description from the text is, it's unlikely the mystery will have a satisfying conclusion. In keeping with every other appearance of the chaoskampf theme and her offspring, it's probably that she assumed a serpentine form and that it was in some way a combination of many different animals as well. Though slain like a common wyvern, Tiamat remains at the forefront of the Mesopotamian religion in the modern world. Though the sea is dangerous and merciless, and the things that dwell within it are plentiful and scary, it was from it that life sprung from all those eons ago. Without Tiamat, Marduk would not exist, nor would the demons of the mountain and forest and sea, nor would I or any of you reading this. She may never have been worshipped as a proper goddess in her heyday, but she at least deserves our thanks for that most universal of gifts, life.

-- And here she is! I've drawn Tiamat once before in 2018 as part of a school project about Chaoskampf, but never her serpentine form. Unsurprisingly, it gave me a bunch of trouble. How do you draw something as huge and complex as a primordial serpent? My idea was to use a sea serpent as the base and have all the other demons represented as parts. A sort of big monster that's constantly changing, made up of the parts of all the others animals and monsters. You can sort of see her sea serpent head is based on a pike's. My initial idea was to make it in two versions as a gif, one with her "goddess" form colored in, the next with her monstrous form colored in. But it sucked. So I'd rather give the central piece the spotlight and leave the details of the sea serpent up to your imagination. 

This has been a very fun, albeit slow series. Almost the most research done for a single series of anything I've done here. What's next? Probably not another long-form series, at least for a while. The actual first installment of TDG Acronym Pending is what I theoretically should be focusing on, but we'll see. Got to figure out the title before though... Have a safe holidays.