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chernabogs · 6 months ago

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I can see an entire bouquet matching Malleus 😭 Calla lily, Ivy, Red Salvia, NATSURIUM and White carnation with pecks of Daffodil and Fern

Don't feel obligated to use all of them! Chose whichever you find most suitable! I just could stop with one alone, the more prompts i read the more i had this idea for a story in my head

I think you and I had the same idea cooking LMAOOO I hope I did this well! <3 Thank you for the request!!

Sin Eater

Inc: Malleus, Reader, a sin eater, and one advisor WC: 3.4k Warnings: Heavy discussion of grief and coping with loss Flowers: Calla Lily (something at first sight), Ivy (we’ve always been friends but we were never just friends), Natsurium (I refuse to bury you), Daffodil (a god bows before a mortal), Fern (In a world of magic, the greatest miracle was you... subtly implied) Summary: A quiet conversation in a hall between a prince, a starving idol, and a body.

Their arrival is marked with the sombre chiming of Dragon City’s bells, which is the only reason Malleus knows they’re approaching Black Scale. The window of the bedroom you shared is wide open, letting in both the breeze and the song as he stands so still that one may consider him to be a mere statue on display. He feels equivalent to one; his breath is shallow, his body cold, and his expression far away enough that he hardly registers the carriage approaching.

“Your highness?” A faint voice speaks by his right side. Malleus’ finger twitches at the sound as his emerald gaze slowly slides from the streets below to the advisor who is now anxiously twisting her sleeve. He can hardly remember her name—advisors come and go so often that they’ve become a blur in his mind—but he’s taken to calling her Scops due to the owlish stare that she always seems to wear around him. “The sin eater is here.”

Malleus stares for a moment before he looks back down to the courtyard. The carriage door is open, and a figure is now standing on the stone, speaking with one of the guards. The discussion is brief, ending with the guard walking to the doors and the figure looking upwards at the palace walls. A golden mask conceals their face, capturing the rays of the sun which battle through Briar Valley’s ever-present clouds, and they wear a simple black funeral suit.

“I see that.” He replies curtly, his voice ungiving on how he’s really feeling. “They arrived quite quickly, didn’t they?”

“I suppose they have,” Scops steps a bit closer to the window to look down at the sin eater. “Strange, really. It isn’t like their profession is a competitive market anymore.”

Sin eaters used to be far more prominent in Briar Valley back when it was still Briar Nation, and old traditions were held to a greater esteem. Unfortunately, the changing of times meant the dismantling of old organizations and beliefs, rendering the sin eaters as nothing more than a token piece in a funeral party. Perhaps once they were esteemed in a religious fashion—but not anymore. Now they will sit for anyone, so long as they get their meal.

You had always admired the old traditions, though. He remembers your avid interest in his family’s history, and the many nights you’d waste away in the library, reading tome after tome in delight. You had been the spearhead of a new age for old beliefs—revamping Briar Valley’s tourism through the demonstration of habits long dead—and you had made a difference. That’s why there is a sin eater here today.

Malleus dislikes their presence, however. Them being here means that what he’s going through is not just a simple dream. He exhales through clenched teeth and forces his shoulders to relax as he turns on his heel and nods.

“Regardless, it’s best not to keep guests waiting.”

_____________________________________________________________

The hallowed hall in which you lay is silent, even with the presence of the sin eater looming over your shrouded form. How they managed to move quickly enough that they arrived before Malleus did is something he decides not to question—nor does he question how they knew of the hall to begin with. Their profession is one that draws the most peculiar of magic users into it. Like a bloodhound, they caught your scent and followed it to the room. He’s surprised the guards who have been standing watch over you for a day now permitted them to enter.

Malleus enters alone and waves for the room to be sealed. He notes the hesitation in his guard’s body language before they oblige, stepping away to pull the great wooden doors shut with a resounding boom that stirs a pair of birds residing in the rafters. Their wings flutter in distress as Malleus spares them a passing glance before returning his focus on the figure ahead. The sin eater has turned to look back at him, and he sees upon closer inspection that the mask they wear lacks a mouth. They incline their head in greeting before speaking in a surprisingly clear tone considering their facial obstruction.

“Your grace. Forgive me for the intrusion before your arrival; I merely wished to prepare in advance.” Their voice is soft and low as they touch a hand to the place above their heart. Malleus hardly reacts to their words as he brushes past them to where you lay, body enshrouded in a white sheet with a torc affixed upon your neck. His fingers brush along its form; forged of mystium and gifted to you as a token by him. It was the closest he could get to a marriage declaration in the eyes of the Senate.

“It’s hardly my place to prevent a sin eater from completing their role.” He replies languidly as his fingers skim off of the torc to rest on your chest. Stiff, still, and cold against his fingers. “I just wish you had not come to begin with.”

He doesn’t wish to have you buried quite yet, but he knows he’s already pushing the limit of how long he can keep you. He kneels by the platform that holds your form as his fingers brush along the shroud that hides you. If he could, he would drag you off of this macabre display and back into the rooms you shared for so many decades together, to wrap you in his arms and pretend this isn’t happening.

But that was foul. Utterly, utterly foul. Your body would putrefy and decay while he clung to a false hope of resurrection.

No, the sin eater is here now. He just doesn’t want you out of sight quite yet.

“Many do not welcome me, but I have never left without gratitude.” The sin eater replies softly. Like a god before a mortal, Malleus’ ethereal features are painted into a stony expression, his gaze still distant. He hardly feels a part of this world right now as he hums quietly in turn.

“Perhaps.” He muses as his fingers toy with the shroud before he turns to look at the sin eater. Like his own face, their mask is a stony expression, their eyes concealed from his seeking gaze. If they were to not move and speak then they could easily be dismissed as one of the many statues adorning the hall. “How shall we proceed?”

“Do you feel ready to proceed?” They posit as they gesture to your form.

Malleus rises back to his feet but doesn’t remove his hand from your body. The pungent scent of flowers—used to disguise the sweetness of decay—wafts up with the abruptness of his motion. “The opportunity to refuse has long passed. I am aware that there is a feast to be had—that, they regaled me of this back when they were still alive.”

You had been enamoured by the concept of Briar Valley funerary rites throughout your time in life. He remembers thinking it to be grim when you would speak of them, and rather anxiety-inducing when you began to plan for your own. He always knew that your status as a human meant that you would join the stars long before he did—he had simply not wanted to think about it, though. In the end, your efforts to establish your own postmortem care had saved him a great deal of distress these past few days.

Your ability to think far ahead had been one of the many aspects he had loved about you.

“Indeed, and I am delighted to see one is set for me.” The sin eater drifts off of the steps of the platform towards the far side of the room, where a table lay with an array of foods on it. Wine, dates, meats, and a variety of other luxuries decorate pristine plates and spotless cutlery. He had spared no expenses in the lavishness of your memoriam. “Sometimes I have served people who are still cooking the final meal by the time I arrive. But then again, I would expect a prince to have ample amounts of resources available to get things done.”

“I give nothing but the finest when it comes to them.” Malleus retorts sharply as he goes to sit in the chair on the other side of the table. Before he can properly settle, the sin eater raises a hand and shakes their head.

“Turn the chair around if you please. You are not meant to see my face when I eat—that honour is for the deceased, and the deceased alone.”

Malleus pauses, his hand resting on the back of the chair before he obliges and twists it around to face the wall. He then sits down and crosses his legs patiently. Despite the fact that he knows the sin eater to be unarmed, he still feels a prickle of paranoia creep up his spine. Old habits die hard when one has been hunted for so many years.

Eventually he hears the sound of the sin eater sitting down in their respective seat, followed by something heavy hitting the table. The sin eater clears their throat, and the sound is far clearer now than before. Their mask has been removed—which means the rite has officially begun. Malleus inhales and readies himself for what he recalls the next few steps to be.

“Tell me about them. Call them to the table where we feast.” There’s a brief pause then before a fork scrapes against porcelain plates. Malleus’ eyes flutter shut as he gives a low sigh.

“Mira calirh.” The affectionate term flows from his tongue easily as he touches upon memories long passed. How can he summarize you in a simple conversation? You had been a person of many complexities—of devotion, of will, of love as boundless as the sea. To boil all that you were down into a mere few lines felt sacrilegious in his heart.

“Tell me of your first.” The sin eater prompts, and so he does.

“I met them outside of their dorm. I thought the place was abandoned, but suddenly they were there before me, sleep-dazed and curious. I remember thinking how calm they were when facing me directly—only to find out they hadn’t a single clue about who I was.” Malleus’ lips curl into a faint grin as he pictures the moment so clearly. He can see you in your youth, eyes glassy with sleep and hair slightly dishevelled. You had not registered in his mind as someone of importance quite yet.

Oh, how such a thing would change.

“Tell me more.” The sin eater urges. He can hear the wine glass lifting and being set back down on the table. Malleus’ hands clasp tight as he feels his fingers begin to grow numb. In his peripheral vision, he thinks he sees movement from the pedestal. He resists the impulse to look its way as he considers his next words.

“It made me feel… alive. For a moment. They would accompany me, speak with me. It was shortly after my overblot that I began to consider them as a friend—although I suspect we never were just that. It was two summers later that I began to consider them something more.”

Malleus pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts. He remembers that summer—it had been warmer than usual in the Valley, and you had come to visit for a week. He recalls the smell of sunscreen and the sight of you with your hat on your head as you sat in a field of eternal green. The land was lush and abundant with life, but it had been you that had drawn his gaze the strongest.

The sin eater pushes a plate away before grabbing another. It drags across the wooden table with a bitter screech. “Is that so?”

“Quite. They stayed with me for a week, and I wished every night that the next day would never come, only so that I could hold onto them for just a bit longer. I kissed their cheek before they departed through the mirror back to NRC—I wanted to kiss their lips, but I panicked and missed.” He can’t help but laugh at that. His palms had been sweating and his mind had been in a panic when he clumsily pressed his lips to your cheek in a kiss of farewell. “Foolish I was. Fortunately, it didn’t turn them away from me. The next time we met, they made sure my aim was true.”

“Young love has a habit of sending our hearts aflutter, no?” The sin eater muses as more scraping sounds out. “Tell me when you loved them.”

When? Malleus’ brow furrows as he considers the question. When did he not, really?

“Every day. Every hour. Every minute. I think once they became mine there was not a moment I did not love them, even when we had our disagreements, or the obligations of my role drew me abroad. I loved them in the day, I loved them in the night. And in the sparse moments between, I loved them even more.” Malleus feels his jaw clench slightly. “We could not be married, and so I made sure they knew my devotion.”

“You could not marry because they were not fae. I remember that being a point of contention in the papers.”

The sin eater must be a fae themself, then, if they can recall the tabloids from that time so easily while looking as young as they appeared. Malleus bristles at their comment.

“Yes, that was a point of great contention, and one I had to swallow despite working to change the laws. Even my grandmother agreed that such outdated beliefs had no business in and amongst our courtiers.”

He had fought viciously against nobility for the opportunity to keep you by his side. Eventually it had ended in a standoff, with the courtiers begrudgingly agreeing to permit you to live in Black Scale, so long as you never officially became his consort. Your body hasn’t even been cold for a day, and he’s already heard rumours from Scops that the Senate is hunting for a suitable replacement.

The knowledge tastes like bitter fruit on his tongue.

He thinks he sees the flutter of white fabric moving at the pedestal again. His brow furrows as he rationalizes it away as a trick of the odd lighting in the hall. Still, the cold breeze that follows makes him shift in his seat uncomfortably.

“Tell me how you loved them.” The sin eater diverts his thoughts and the conversation once more as something heavy scrapes across the table. It may be the plate of quail he saw—or the pig's head. “What did you do to always let them know?”

“Everything. Anything they wanted I would give to them. If they had asked me to move the mountains we rest on, I would do so. If they asked me to pluck the sun from the sky and fasten it into a brooch for them, I would make sure it was held by the finest of metals. If they wished for the rains to fall and the earth to turn green, then I would drag the clouds from across the world to where they stood.” Malleus shivers again as he feels an ache in his chest. It’s been there for days now. “Magic bends to my whims, but I bent to theirs.”

“But you couldn’t give them time.” There’s a licking sound and a low hum of satisfaction from the sin eater. “Time will eat everyone in the end—much like how I feast on their memories now. You could give them every precious gem and flower in the world, but you could not give them a second more than what they were meant to have.”

“If I could have, then I would.” He snarls back, his head turning slightly to glare at the blurred image of the sin eater. “I would have stolen the seconds from anything and everything and given it to them instead. The gods know they would have benefited from it. They had plans, ideas, to improve this nation and now? Now they’re already beginning to decay.”

“As things do.” The sin eater tosses a bone onto a plate as Malleus looks back to the wall. He feels something cold brush against him again, and then the scraping of a chair to his right. His shoulders tense at the sound and he wonders if the sin eater has changed places.

Until they speak.

“How very kind of you to finally join us.”

The comment is simple and one that draws confusion in Malleus until it finally clicks in place and his entire body plunges into freezing water. The world spins to a stop as he hears a whispering voice by his ear, its words indiscernible. Malleus’ eyes widen and dilate as any words he had to say stutter to a stop from his lips, drawn shut by a cold touch brushing up his arm—much like how his touch had brushed along yours moments ago.

“One last bite, then.” The sin eater interjects once more as they push another plate away. “Tell me how you will keep them alive. The body may be rotting, but the soul does still linger. Within this hall, within this palace, within the memories stored in your mind. How will you honour that?”

The words become clearer now. Your voice is soft as your breath brushes against the skin behind his ear, making him shiver as a small, painful sound escapes him. The scent of you lingers just beneath that of the roses your body was bathed in before being wrapped for your cremation. He can feel the brush of the shroud against him as phantom fingers touch his back.

He wants to turn to see you as he once knew—but something tells him that doing so will merely send you away faster.

“Their legacy.” He offers slowly, eyes fluttering shut again as he loses himself in your touch. “Their memory carries on through years upon generations of work. They brought life back to Briar Valley’s beliefs. They reshaped this old, rotting home—reshaped me—into something better. I may have portraits of them, and statues, and items that they loved dear stored in my rooms—but I think the only thing they would wish for me to do is continue the work they had started.”

A sensation floods him then like that brought on by a lover’s kiss. It curls around his wounded heart and floods itself through his veins, warming his body in a way that it hasn’t been able to for days. Another pained sound leaves him, but it is not drawn out because of any agony.

Then, as quickly as it arrived, the sensations are all gone. Your scent disappears, your touch disappears, and Malleus Draconia is left once more to sit in a stiff wooden chair in a large, desolate hall, with a body and a sin eater as his company. He wants to grasp for you and hold you in place like he did so dearly with your body—but the voice screams at him again that this is not the way it plays out.

The sin eater sets the cutlery down before drawing their mask over their face. They push the chair back to stand, and only when they’re on their feet again does Malleus turn to them. He can feel wetness on his cheeks as he stares at their slender, frail form. He had managed to keep himself from crying so far—but now it’s become a battle he can no longer wage.

“What a delectable meal.” The sin eater sighs as they brush down their suit before stepping away from the table. They pause as they face the prince before bending at the waist in a low bow. The black pits that represent their eyes do not stray from his face as they do so. “They rest—as you should, too. I know you have at least another day of the wake to endure, so try to recover as much energy as you can. They would not want you to suffer on their behalf.”

Malleus doesn’t reply as his gaze drifts to your shrouded form on the pedestal. His love, his partner, his calirh. When the sin eater is already halfway to the door, he clears his throat, causing them to pause and look his way. Malleus stares at their masked face with an expression of neutrality once more.

“... thank you.” He offers softly. The sin eater tilts their head, bows, and steps out of the silent hall.

#malleus draconia #malleus x reader #twst malleus #twst #twst fanfiction #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #OKAY got those out of the way #anyway sin eaters... sexy concept #sad they went out of style #probably bc it costs too much to buy food /j #kinda went off the rails w this im so sorry if it isnt what u envisioned b ;;#but YEAH nice.#nice.

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joicecubes · 3 months ago

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someone said their favorite version of vashwood is actually when they’re best friends and i could not agree more. the charm of a lot of ships to me, and this is also why i love satosugu so much, is that they’re friends first and lovers second. vashwood’s friendship and faith in each other is so deeply intertwined with their romantic feelings that their bond is one that can’t quite be described with either word. “friends” doesn’t quite cut it but really, neither does “lovers,” at least fully. regardless of what they are to each other, they’re each other’s people. wolfwood is vash’s person, vash is wolfwood’s person, that’s all there is to it.

like i’m being so fr when i say that i could see vashwood having some sort of complicated queerplatonic bond. giving each other noisy smooches on the cheek and never needing to quantify the feelings behind the gesture. holding hands, linking arms, being all over each other. deep conversations where nothing is left unsaid. “i love you,” and they both know exactly what they mean. they are so intrinsically linked emotionally that nobody else quite understands what they are to each other but them. you could call it romantic, sure. you could call them friends who have no concept of boundaries. but what they have, especially in canon trimax in my opinion, is something so much more than either of them even have the words to express.

#this post went way off the rails #idk i just think every interpretation of their relationship is correct thank you very much #they love each other too deeply to quantify #trigun #trimax #trigun maximum #vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #vash #wolfwood #satosugu #brief mention but im tagging them anyway

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kabutoden · 5 months ago

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FUCK THE KARKAT VANTAS PLUSH THEY CUT ME OFF FOR FUCKING REALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

I WAS GOING TO MAKE A KARKAT VANTAS PLUSH AND SELL IT TO THE PEOPLE!! I WAS GOING TO DO THAT!!! I HAD A MARKETABLE PLUSHIE DESIGN AND EVERYTHING!!!! DO YOU SEE THIS FUCKER??? DO YOU SEE HIM??? DO YOU FUCKING SEE HIM?

I SAID IT TO ALL MY FREINDS!! TO MY FAMILY!! 'gonna make a marketable plushie out of this dog hes sellable as fuck' FUCK!!!! THEY FUCKING GOT TO IT BEFORE ME AND THEIR DESIGN ISNT EVEN GOOD!!! WHY IS THE HAIR LIKE THAT ITS FUCKING makeship THEY CAN MAKE SOME PRETTY QUALITY WORK!! ITS GOING TO COST 30 DOLLARS YOU DIDNT FUCKING NEED TO skIMP ON THE HAIR!!!!! PROMISE!!! WHAT IS THIS A FUCKING FNAF PLUSH??? ARE YOU JOKING??? WHO DID YOU COMMISSION TO MAKE THIS PLUSH DEISNGNNNNN WHY IS THE HAIR FLATTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

I WAS GOING TO DO THAT!!! IT WAS HALF THE REASON I MADE THIS STINKIN COMIC AND NOW I HAVE 60 MORE PAGES I WANT TO FINISH NOOOOO FUCKKKKKKKKKK NOW I HAVE OFFICIAL COMPETITIONNN WHYYYY

its fine. im fine im. FIIIIIINEEEEEEEE. its on me for not working on aphids... f in the fucking chat (this post is not very serious)

#genuinely was going to try and do some kind of makeship plush of my karkat design #also did not think the makeship plush was real. i mean. its kind of bad #like i want to get it but also it's bad. you feel??? you fucking feel? hes my favorite little guy but there has been way better plushies #made than this #a lot of worse ones two but fuckit #dont take this seriously at all please #im just whining #i have been talking about turning aphids karkat into a plush for months before like the whole life went off the rails thing and i stopped #updating aphids for a while #BUT I WILL FINISH IT #tbh when its done id like to try and do a plush still but we'll fucking see LOL if theres an audience for it #definetly a bummer homestuck official got there before me but i dont like their plush design. like its just woof. rough #its a 30 dollar plush you can afford hair and arms. promise

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tricoufamily · 2 months ago

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i feel like i've made this exact sim 4000000 times

#no way......he's the son of a mafia boss........groundbreaking......#i was trying to make that pyromaniac a toxic love interest idk it was meant to be this old gruff motorcycle guy #(which i have also done 4000000 times)#and it just went off the rails bc i'm so bad at making sims lately #he's cute though. no idea what to do w him though i'm not feeling him for this universe he needs another i think. maybe.#bye bye #maybe he just needs more work who knows #ts4 #ts4 cas #the sims 4

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lionfission · 2 years ago

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Tennis Anne and her victims opponents

#amphibia #amphibia fanart #sasha waybright #marcy wu #anne boonchuy #my art #these started out as gesture studies and then went WAY off the rails #if I ever draw another tennis racket again in my life it'll be too soon

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thecursedcreator · 6 months ago

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omg is that ultrakill

#fnf #friday night funkin #fnf silly billy #fnf yourself #fnf mod #hit single real #hit single mod #my art #//i went way off the rails for coloring this but i like it tho #//can he be happy and just play some video games. please #//also i've never played ultrakill (yet) i dont know if its better on controller. i kinda just wanted to draw him holding one??? lol

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be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie · 1 year ago

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Sorry but i will NEVER belive that in the secret mated au Spider gets kidnapped by the RDA.

For me when Lo'ak calls Jake telling him what and who they found Neteyam doesn't wait a single moment.

Lo'ak: "Me, Spider, K-"

Neteyam: "Lo'ak i swear that if Spider gets hurt in any single and possible way, if only an hair is being pull out of him. I will beat the crap out of you"

(I like to think Neteyam is protective of Spider, I will die on this road)

So then Neteyam says to his parents he knows a shortcut, and they practically have to beg him to go slower because their ikrans are almost giving in from fatigue.

Neteyam growls at them, and then say a low apology remebering that those are his parents.

They arrive, he jumps off his ikran, and he founds the others in no time, his parents behind him.

Then bla bla bla fight and bla bla bla

Neteyam during the fight grabs Spider and Tuk and he runs with them were they put the ikrans.

"Tuk you ok?" He asks first and Tuk who is shaken nods and she hugs him tightly.

"Spider are you ok?" Neteyam asks and Spider nods before hugging him tightly too.

"I was so scared i thought- i don't even wanna thought what i thought" Neteyam says

"Is alright dude, I'm okay" Spider reasume him.

"Oh mate, my dear mate" Neteyam says

That how the family finds out, them returning to the others and hearing Neteyam say 'mate' to Spider.

Neteyam getting kidnapped with Spider because there is no way he leaves his mate behind.

I'm so sorry, I have many things to say about this.

FIRST OF ALL, killing myself at Spider calling Neteyam "dude" only for Neteyam to respond with "my dear mate." Like, the audacity. Neteyam's not even worried anymore he's simply like, doubling down on nicknames to combat DUDE. His family find out because he was pissed about being called dude. Now I simply have to headcanon that Spider is calling Neteyam the most platonic, dudebro names possible while Neteyam tries to call him sappier and grosser pet names.

Spider: Hey man, what's up?

Neteyam: Seriously? Hey gorgeous, how are you, BELOVED?

Spider: I'm doing great, thanks, my guy.

Neteyam: Great to hear, sweetness.

Spider: How about you...

Neteyam: Don't say it.

Spider: ...bro.

Neteyam: OH GOD.

Secondly, I still am of the hardcore nocorro mindset where Spider is Neteyam's place to be vulnerable and voice all of his fears and inadequacies. I don't vibe super hard with the idea of any of Spider's relationships being the na'vi character protecting him all the time, I don't think he would accept that. He can handle himself and he would hate being babied. Plus, the Sully's especially are so important to him because they treat him like an equal. So I guess I'm fighting you on this road?

That being said, I do find the idea of Neteyam hiding the fact that he's trying to protect Spider from him, so he's just secretly threatening Lo'ak all the time, whispered fights behind Spider's back or as soon as he leaves, like "that is my mate now not just your dumbass idiot best friend, stop trying to get him killed along with you." And Lo'ak's just threatening to tell Spider about it all the time.

Neteyam: don't bring Spider to that.

Lo'ak: oOH, I'M TELLING HIM YOU SAID THAT.

Neteym: WAIT-

Finally, I can see Spider getting kidnapped while they are secretly mated, just because Neteyam trusts his parents. The drama would be this might be the incident to break that unfailing trust. They are kids, and despite growing up in a battle, their parents are legends. I think it would be a big deal for Neteyam to have them not bring his mate back, even unintentionally. They're supposed to be the perfect people he's living up to, what the fuck is he doing if they can fail? Mental crisis.

Also Tuk on the back of the ikran as Spider and Neteyam reunite:

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ivanttakethis · 4 months ago

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Alien Stage is so cool! I wish codependency was real 😔

#this is mostly a joke #i was just thinking about how every character had to rely on someone one way or another to keep going #and how everything went off the rails once they lost that person #the codependency was really codependencying i fear #alien stage #alnst #alien stage ivan #alnst ivan #alien stage till #alnst till #alien stage mizi #alnst mizi #alien stage sua #alnst sua #alien stage hyuna #alnst hyuna #alien stage luka #alnst luka #ivanttakethis talks too much

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thejugheadparadox · 2 years ago

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something something roman thinks he didnt say i love you and keeps asking if he said i love you and if it was real no one would ever know whether or not he did but its narrative its television so we know. and we know he didnt. in the behind the episode vid they spoke about how the camera is always on the siblings because it can never "let them off the hook". everything we do today will be what we did the day our father died. something something medium is everything it circulates it eats and spews back out it fossilises. its a tv show about tv

#IN MANY WAYS ITS KIND OF ACTUALLY JUST LIKE RIVERDALE #i went off the rails here a bit but theres sth in the core of this that holds weight i think #honestly i dont usually think of succession as a trapped in the narrative thing like i do abt other stuff. and i still dont #but it just suddenly hit me that roman in fictional universe will never know whether he said i love you but i do and i can always check #succession #succession spoilers

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sydchan · 4 months ago

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I don’t think you all realize how many times I’ve had to hold myself back from going on a long rant about the age gap N and Hilbert allegedly have according to Bulbapedia (just so you all know, I stand on the freak side of things, I genuinely would still ship them if the Pokemon company swore they were 14 and 20). It’s just narratively this is nonsense and does not fit and Word Of God means nothing when compared to source material so 16 and 18 makes way more sense. But again…not worth rambling about. One thing I will say is while I can kind of buy N as 20 (21 would make more sense as the next age milestone after 18 he might have been coronated at, but I guess 20 is from when you’re an adult in Japan?) it’s honestly Hilbert as 14 that grinds my gears more. Like why does Bulbapedia say he’s 14 and then within the trivia section of that very page, mention that interviews say he and Hilda were designed as 16. Like at least list 14-16 as the age range??? Like bruh, why is it not a range????? 16 is clearly one of the correct interpretation of his age. Constantly perplexed by this.

The damage Bulbapedia has done cause fools won’t play the source material and come to their own conclusions….

Like I guess if one wishes to assume Hilbert is younger than the game implies and N is older than the game implies have at it. You do you. But it’s such a bizarre shift to see in how the ship is viewed.

#Grinds my gears #again would still ship it no matter what but I have Feelings about word of god trumping source material #dare I tag this….#N #touya #pokemon #IsshuShipping #I’ve said my piece I’ve seen multiple people make arguments but I’ll still stand with my canceled ship #send an ask about it to the side blog if you want to see me go off the rails tho #I’ve thought about reasoning behind their ages too much #Syd rambles #I feel this needs the added context that I was drunk when I wrote this #went into a tizzy as a result of twitter pissing me off with age discourse #also this post is slowly turning into me putting on my clown makeup since over on the side blog I’m pondering embracing the “canon” age gap #since all of this is still 1000% true to me but spite is fueling me so I’m like fine for every person who trash talks the ship #even if they’re pro Isshu when they’re closer in age I still get annoyed at the trash talking (it’s that that annoys me more tbh)#people that are pro the ship but only when you do it “the right way”#so sure maybe I will use the foolish age gap #bizarre implications of what that means for Cheren having a full time job at 16 and all (that’s the other piece what it does to BW2 ages)#so to anyone liking this post realize I do play both sides of liking the ship cause I Do Not Care about the maybe/maybe not wider age gap

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sukunasweetheart · 1 year ago

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Why do you like Sukuna so much?

I was halfway through writing up a few paragraphs but i ended up scrapping it bc i ddint knwo what i was saying anymore. Hes just. My everything

I JUAT LOVE HIM SAUR MUCH WHAT IS THERE NOT TO LOVE??#;@**# HES SO GRRRRAAAHHHHHHHH 💝💓💝💓💗💗💘💓💝💕💘💞💓💝💗💝💓💝💞💝💞💘💞💓💝💓💓💝💘💞💞💝💓💝💗💓💝💘💞💕💘💞💘💓💓💗💝💓💝💘💞💘💕💞💝💓💝💓💞💝💞💞💝💞💓💝💗💝💞💞💝💓💝💓💝💞💞

#to sum up; hes a diabolic menace with no regard for others but has a shit ton of charisma that just endlessly captivates me with no end.#hes also FUNNY BRUH #hes hot. hes insane. but he has his mature and wise moments #he likes to have fun... he likes to eat (humans).... hes so unserious #hes so complex and yet simple at the same time?!?^@*^#sukuna is highkey? all over the place. but in a way that makes sense like idk how else to describe this #i just adore him 😔 ik i write him AUs a shitton but his canon self is so 👌#im just horribly intimidated by the idea of trying to actually capture his personality in jjk...#props to all the writers that tackle the mans canon self 👏 i also want to write my own heian era fic one day?? idk..#anyway sorry anon i went off the rails over one question byebye #poe answers

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kangaracha · 7 months ago

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daffodil + chan

a song

the prompt: daffodil (a god bows before a mortal)

read it on ao3

---

"You have no power over me."

running through his hands like water, and suddenly the earth is not his to control. The skies do not turn with the twist of his head, lightning does not fork in the air when his eyes, dark as night and yet still lit by some unearthly light, fall upon you, his mouth wide as if to gasp for a breath he cannot take-

And yet, still, it shivers down your spine; the magic that draws you here even as you rip it apart, the prize of your conquest to rip the world into two.

"Take it back," he hisses through his teeth, the ground trembling with every syllable that slides down his tongue. You watch his mouth as it forms the words, the flash of teeth behind thin lips reminding you of the way that the swordsman you'd fought through to get here had smiled at you - the last of his seven challenges, the last of his demons, or angels, or citizens of the sprawling, damned city he claimed as his kingdom.

And here you stood, at the pinnacle of the eighth, and stared him in the eye without cringing away because now you knew the truth. Now you knew that what he whispered in the dark was a lie and what you saw with your eyes wasn't always true, and though he may be a god and a king amongst beings that you could never hope to rival, a god can only hold as much power as you give him. A god can only claim dominion over a beast that bowed to his dogma.

You see now that you are no beast. You are no believer in any lie he utters to the darkness.

"Take it back," he says again, the note of his voice changing. He pleads, his brow furrowing and his shoulders curling in as if waiting for the final blow. "Take it back now, before it's too late."

"I can't," you tell him, and you watch him fall to his knees, and you know that it's wrong and your heart pounds in your chest and it

like the ground does at the impact of his knees, crumbling into the pieces it was in when you first took his hand, alone on the side of the road with only one thing to call your own. And what was that thing, the little warmth you'd held to your chest in the dark and the cold? What had you traded away for the comfort of the house that crumbled around you now? Why had you destroyed him to get it back, where was it now, why did it not appear within his hands at this, the hour of his reckoning?

"Please," he spits into the cold ground, the dirt and the leaves and the curl of ivy that grows up the walls around you, old and ancient and not yet sprouted from its roots all at the same time. His hands curl in the dirt like he can reach down and pull the earth to him, like he can stop the wane of his power if he just tries to hold on a little bit tighter. "I know what you want, and I don't have it. I can't lose-"

Broken, fragile thing. Small god of limited earth, crouched at your feet like he might worship you instead. You'd thought him all-powerful once, and then you'd thought him severe and his servants and beasts and playthings petty, and then you'd thought him

because he'd smiled at you in the garden that bloomed from his own hands when you expressed your desire for a flower to tuck in the braid of your dark hair, and his hand had been soft in yours, and when he looked out across his kingdom and the clamouring faces of the people he'd brought to live there, he'd looked at them the same way that he'd looked at you.

Beneath your foot, the ground cracks, fracturing outwards like a spiderweb. It's your heart, you realise morosely, sinking from your chest and into the depths of the earth, disappearing with whatever he'd taken from you; and it was a wretched thing and it had betrayed you a hundred times over, but you still mourn at the loss of it and all the dreams it had carried with it. It blooms in your flowers in the corners of the room, embeds itself into the land and sings along with the song of his power, a thing you can hear but cannot touch, a beast once born that now does not belong to you.

"I'm sorry," he says, his breath like mist in the cold air, and even without your heart, you can't bear to see him so cold.

Your hands reach for him without permission, your body kneeling in the dirt before you can stand your feet firm upon the earth and refuse to move. He flinches away, but your fingers are soft upon his chin and the curve of his jaw, gentle when they brush the soft dip of his neck. "I only wanted to know what it was," you tell him with a voice that cannot hold itself steady. "I thought if you loved me, you would give it back." It's the only voice you have - you are not like him, or like Felix, speaking with many tongues. You don't have any power of your own.

"It's because I love you that I can't give it back." His voice is hoarse, every word a knife that he swallows without ever once flinching. "It's because I love you that I couldn't tell you what it was."

"But didn't I deserve to know?" you question. "Doesn't my life belong to me?"

Finally, his eyes rise, looking up at you with a fire that belies the cold of his skin. "Of course it does," he gasps, and his hand reaches up, dirt-stained fingers dragging at your cheek. "That's why I gave it to you, and I never asked for anything else."

"But you wouldn't give back what you took in the first place."

The sudden violence of his voice crumbles the walls and fractures the sky, the clouds blooming te dark colours of a bruise. The absence of his hand on your cheek stings in the cold; his face turns away, screwed up in regret and a pain he won't allow you to feel. You lurch forward before he can disappear, drawing him into your arms; stiff shoulders, spine of beaten steel, slow beat of a heart you once held in your hands.

He'd stood so tall and unmoving in the morning light, when you'd first walked down this path, and now in the dark of the setting sun and the ending of the earth, his weight slumps into your grasp, his resolve melting into the warmth of your body. "I didn't want you to suffer again," he says to the soft cotton of your shirt and the curve of your collarbone, his breath a whisper against your skin. "I couldn't watch that, when you asked me to make sure it would never happen again."

Surprise comes in the pause of your breath and the still of your arms, the jump of a heart you're not sure you still possess. "I asked you to make me forget?" you question the world behind his back, and into your neck, he sighs.

"You couldn't forget," he murmurs. "She was dead before I found you, and when I took her from your arms - you couldn't forget. There was nothing I could do to fix what had been broken. And then you begged me to let you forget, so I remembered her for you." He pauses, his throat hitching like he's swallowing something down. A sob maybe, or the tears he will never let fall. "I can't give her back though. She's not here anymore."

You push him upright, your hands on his shoulders, his neck, his face. Brushing away the hair that falls in his eyes, wiping at the blood that drips from the cut on his cheek. "Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, because the answer is incomprehensible. "Why did you let me go this far?"

"Because I was scared," he admits, and his teeth clench and his spine stiffens against the urge to hide away from you again. "Because I'm a wretched, evil, stupid thing who thinks they can-"

His words die in your throat; vile, wretched things that you store away to spit out later, into the ground where they belong. He is none of that; he is soft, and hesitant, until your fingers find the sharp curve of his hip and the lines of his back, dragging him closer and his lips open like there is nothing in the world to devour but you and

#sorry about the images everyone but tumblr wouldn't let me keep my aesthetic #and i refuse to bow to any shitty website #how tf do you align text on here #anyway #stray kids #bang chan #stray kids chan #bang chan x reader #stray kids x you #y/n without the y/n #lee felix #is mentioned #lee know is also in here if you can spot him #roo writes #the fight i had to a) finish this and b) post it #anyway 7k written for the last three days #a lil treat for #well for me because keeps refused to write me a fic and i got desperate #but for the love of god please someone read this please someone talk to me #i feel like i really cooked with this #one hour of my life spent going down a rabbithole #oh what else was i going to say #vaguely inspired by labyrinth #we went way off the labyrinth rails but #it's there #alright shit alright i'm gonna post it lets go i'm nervous

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