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comfortless · 10 months ago

Note

hi angel! i have to tell you that ‘All That You Don’t Want’ was incredible- such a lovely, sweet tale! i keep revisiting it! would you consider writing a second part? or even a role reversal?

Roach Head

lich! König x fem necromancer! reader

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. abduction, injury, mentions of insects (reader is the world’s worst necromancer), forced proximity, pining, violence/regicide, major character death, questionable morality, fluff, smut, a lil angst.

notes: i am so sorry you have had to wait so long, anon. ): though… i doubt that i will ever write a continuation of ATYDW, take this sickly sweet… (almost) role reversal, instead!

wc: 6.7k.

It’s an odd thing that, after finally having the blindfold removed, the first thing you notice are the cobblestones beneath your bleeding palms. Not a single one is in disarray; not cracked or crumbling from being used as any other common footpath. No, each stone is in it’s place, lain complete with not a single splintering crack or a sharpness to it from being broken. All pristine and smooth beneath your stinging scrapes.

Just like the cobbles, the air feels untouched here. There’s no stink of manure or spoiled food from the cramped streets of the inner kingdom. There are no roars of fighting men nor the baying of beasts, a lack of giggling women batting their eyelashes to lure those with jingling pouches of coins into brothels. You can’t even detect a breeze. Twisting onto your side, your eyes catch on the extending limbs of sturdy trees, and oddly… not a single leaf flutters or moves. The air is still.

There is only the absence of everything.

You should think it a blessing after your abduction, after being thrust into the back of a dusty carriage drawn by two massive horses.

You could almost swear you had seen the devil in their dark eyes, hellfire deep in those dark pits and you had known assuredly they would be chauffeuring you straight into the darkest circle of Hell. That was, until a thick, rigid cloth was tied around your head, forcing you into complete darkness. Your assailants had done well to bind you and leave your aching body only capable of wracking with sobs against the hard wood at the bottom. Every jolt of the wagon had caused you to flinch, to scramble as best you could, resulting in an array of bruises and your still bleeding hands from fighting at the ropes.

There had never even been a chance to fight back; you never even saw them. Even now as you raise your throbbing head to glance about, there’s no sign of the men that have left you here, in this silent place. Your heart almost seizes in your chest when you realize you can no longer even hear the cantering and whinnying of those dark, stoic horses.

You know that nothing good comes from silence.

It’s one of the first things that you came to learn as a fledgling witch. Quiet rarely ever bodes well. The prey animals in the wood all scurry to hide amongst fallen leaves and well-packed nests the very moment that a predator draws near, and you, still green with your admittedly lackluster talent in reanimating were little more than a fawn in the eyes of any beast.

A groan leaves your parted lips as you force yourself to your knees, ignoring the incessant sting of bruises and how your vision blots from even the barest of exertion. Your binds must have been cut free when you were abandoned here, you realize, as you twist around to crawl.

That’s when you see it— the glory of what lies before you.

Rather than being dumped into some desolate street for the vultures to find and pick apart like any common carrion, the men with their frightening steeds had left you at the steps leading up to a beautiful castle of sorts. The stone bricks and marbled towers above you, spirals of darkened blue shingles descended into gilded turrets, the rampart casting a shadow over all that settles beneath. There’s a flag there, too, positioned just outside of the wooden door leading into the heart of it all. The rich, blue fabric is torn in places, the tassels frayed, bare white thread visible near the paling center making the crest practically invisible.

Something draws you to it, that singular rotting thing in this bright, sterile void. Your feet move quicker than your thoughts as you pad up toward the flag, eyelids squinting as your palm dances over the canvas. The strangest thing happens as you finally make out what remains of a wolf’s head amongst the rips and splintering threads— the wooden door begins to move. It’s not one of those fancy, well crafted ones with those mechanisms you couldn’t fathom in the King’s keep, this one has to be pulled open from the inside.

You watch, lips pursed as the door continues to slowly creek open until finally, you can make out the small courtyard beyond it. A fountain, long since dried up sits at its center, and even with what you imagine must be little care in such a desolate place, the plants are all in bloom; petals of vivid blues and gentle purples fill your vision.

Amongst them, stands a shadow of the purest black, from the opaque veil shrouding his head to the soles of his boots. The cloak he wears is heavy, finely stitched with that very same blue crest embroidered into its chest, the stitching in equal disarray as the flag adorning the stone wall.

You’ve seen specters before. They haunt the kingdom in every nook, crawling over the tops of buildings, invading your dreams with threats of what will come to you if you don’t reanimate something, give them any body to inhabit and puppet so that they might just have a taste of the pleasures of being human once more. Greedy, malevolent things that make you feel ill from a mere glimpse.

This one is entirely an unknown.

He does not crawl from your gaze with the gait of a wary spider, he stands rigid, daring even as those eyes like sapphire lock onto your form. Not a word is uttered between the two of you, yet you feel a pull, one that curls at the bones tucked into the flesh of your legs, pushing and pulling you past the threshold as though an unseen dog were nipping at your heels. You don’t fight it. Your bare feet cross over smooth stone and your stare remains wistful on the figure until he simply strolls away.

That’s it. That’s all it takes before you’re snapped out of your trance and the wooden door swings heavy and violent behind you, closing and locking without a hand to guide it. Then it’s back to the nothingness, the silence.

You should be very, very afraid. In a panic, even as your hands flatten over the wood and you realize that there are no handles from inside at all. You are entirely trapped here, short of finding a way to carve through it or climb up the rampart and risk snapping every limb on your descent. Thing is— you are not afraid, at least not enough to do anything so rash.

A calm settles here, electric and tickling as it feathers unseen through the cool air.

You stay in that courtyard for a long time, admiring every flower and shrub, some you recognize and others you do not. The empty fountain is not empty at all; you find that the marble ring is filled to the brim with riches— gold coins, shimmering stones, all twinkling beneath the yellow glow of the sun overhead.

Inside of the castle is more or less the same, each corridor bathed in the glow of soft candlelight, highlighting paintings in gilded frames that must have taken months to complete, treasures you have only ever heard of seated on polished wood and fine metals. Like walking through a dream. Though your hands itch to pocket something, anything to take back with you when you find the will to escape, to free yourself from the reality of your little shack at the corner of the market that you share with a dozen other witchlings, you don’t touch anything at all.

Following a branch to your right, vast and equally laden with treasures, eyes darting from one shiny thing to the next until the tightly woven, ornate rugs beneath the soles of your feet wind to an end and you instead find your footing on smooth stone tiles.

You find yourself in the throne room, where the specter sits, lofty yet misplaced upon the soft, rolling velvet. That pull, like a lead drawn too tight, pivots you forward, one foot before the other until you’re kneeling at his feet. The figure remains still, watching you with that somber, unrelenting stare even as you reach up to take his gloved hand into your own, kissing along each knuckle until the hand coated in blackened leather moves to cup your face.

This is no king, you know it in your very bones. The dark veil stained by teardrops tells you everything, of a life trodden by deceit and pain untold.

“I know what you are, hündchen.”

The voice startles you, a rasp, alive only in the way that fire lives, crackling and swaying with each lilt. You must have flinched back, the spell weaved around you broken with all of the subtlety of a lightening strike, your elbows dig almost painfully into the rough tiles below, eyes locked to the veil.

Your own voice doesn’t come for a time. When it does, it comes tight; meek and quivering, almost absent entirely as though your own body refuses to bring a ripple to the quiet that has engulfed you.

“Why have you brought me here?”

The feeling that curls up in the hollow spaces within your chest when this enigma pulls you to your feet with a sudden curl of his hand over your wrist feels familiar. It’s not unlike how you felt when accidentally resurrecting that old mantis found dried beneath your bed. It had attempted to chew through your hand, but being so small it hardly seemed a threat, just offensively waving it’s front legs at you until you scooped the critter up and locked it up tight in an old trunk. Some strange tide of wonder, and it takes a moment for you to push it down enough to realize that… the specter is still stood before you, his grip still tight, not saying a word.

Why it brings a swell of warmth to your face should have you questioning your taste in men rather than what he may or may not have done.

“Sorry, I just—“

“You are hurt, hündchen.” He interrupts, turning your wrist over to inspect the flecks of dried blood littering your palm. It’s not the worst injury you’ve ever had, in fact, you had very nearly forgotten it even existed— just a few scrapes from a rope tied far too tight.

You shake your head, biting back that surge of… something, that furry something that crawls from the fluttering organ behind your ribcage and down into the pits of your stomach. That feeling is also familiar, you felt it the first time you laid eyes on that pompous, boy-man serving as heir to the throne in the castle, at least, until he turned his head to look at you and your ilk with thinly veiled disgust.

If the specter sees scum before him, the veil does well to conceal it.

His eyes seem to only light up the more he appraised you, rubbing his thumb over your scrape with such a gentle touch that a shiver rips down your spine.

“I see…”

He guides your wrist back down to your side, delicately trails his fingertips up to your shoulder and… that’s it before he draws away and steps right past you. That’s all the touch you’re given and you find yourself, humiliatingly yearning for it. There should be nothing but contempt scraping at your skull and yet you feel treacherously endeared by this strange, strange faceless man living in this lonely castle.

The risk of this being some bewildering trap weighs heavy on your mind; you’re far more intelligent than some scrappy undead insect, begging to be tossed into a dusty crate, after all. You had heard of the way other lands treated necromancers: shunning them, chasing them from villages, and in far more dreadful cases— leading them to kneel before a headsman for decapitation.

You center yourself, force your mind to conjure up any evidence of some magical foul play only to be left with the knowledge that these feelings are entirely your own.

This man does not have the sticky aura of one dripping magic from his palms like thick globs of honey. He seems almost vacant, devoid of even anything making him human, while you stand transfixed and lacking even the sensible reaction of fear.

You can only find comfort in his gentle hand, in his stare like an unholy flame.

So, when he guides you to what is to be your dwelling you mouth does not part to argue. You’re led to a room larger than the entirety of the cluttered home you shared with the other witchlings. Everything within is worth more than even you, and something about it stings, sharp and sudden like ant’s venom seeping into skin.

From the canopy bed, draped over with thick velvet curtains to protect from the chill of a winter’s night to the neatly polished wood of varying furniture, it all feels so rich— so foreign.

“You didn’t have to prepare all of this for me… I don’t even… why am I here?” You’re rambling, searching every corner of the room with a flitting gaze as if some small patch of dust will provide you with the answers.

Your specter only laughs as he nudges you towards the bed, now your bed, the motion only sending another question to the forefront of your mind.

Were you bought? Meant to warm some peculiar stranger’s bed without even the grace of having the knowledge to prepare?

Perhaps your concerns should have drifted as to why you were not entirely opposed.

“Sleep.”

The simple command leaves you stifled entirely, all confusion and tentative excitement dispelled in an instant.

He wants nothing from you, only to extend a foreign cup spilling over with generosity to one who would not admit it was ever even needed.

You find yourself nodding your head, unaccustomed to the kindness of a forgotten thing like him. In truth, you’re unused to anything but bickering between the other ladies in the witch’s house, the cobwebs stretching without end caking the ceiling, the scuttle of crawling legs over your flesh as you pulled your threadbare blanket over your body to shield you from the cold. From stark poverty to this… it claws at your eyes, steels your mind— man or ghost, it mattered not; your heart sang while your mouth remains pressed into a stiff line.

When he leaves you, your body cloaked in the softest gown you’ve ever worn, burrowed beneath sheets of the finest silk, that unknown thing in your heart seems to spill over, rushing through your veins like honeyed wine.

You dream through the eyes of someone else that night.

A woman kneels at your feet with tears in her dark eyes. She hasn’t slept, the thick, dark patches just above where her cheeks rise make it evident, and she’s pleading with the you who is not you; this woman tells you that she wishes to go home, that she could never be a part of what you are or are not.

Even in dreaming you feel your jaw tighten, sure that your nails have splintered from the shooting pain in your fingertips as your hands tighten over the hard wood of your seat. The not you speaks for you, his voice coming warbled and distant. You can not make out the words, but seeing how this pleading woman’s face seems to morph into an expression of terror, you’re grateful to not know what’s been said.

Nothing becomes of her. You watch as she strolls away, unharmed. This other you, however, is. It’s the tingling of so many unseen legs parading through your chest; spiders in a downward course to burrow in the shadow of your belly. The discomfort rings out as you feel this body rise from its seat, out to the courtyard with a fountain. The flowing water subsided the clambering of spider limbs inside, just enough for this body to pull a ring from its pocket and cast it down into the clear water.

You watch the ring seat itself at the marble bottom, the gentle flow of water causing small ripples to crest over that tiny band of silver until you wake.

Confusion twists itself into curiosity as you free yourself from the sheets, padding out of your room still only adorned in the thin, white fabric of the gown. Morning light filtering through each window of the castle carves a path where the candles have long since been blown out. The only darkness here is with your captor, all tall and shadowy, and you find yourself considering the fact that perhaps you’ve been sucked down into some strange afterlife, one where you and this specter would remain in a silent stasis for all time. You find that you don’t entirely hate the idea, either.

Most of the rooms in the castle are dull. It’s not that there isn’t plenty to look at, but a cluttering of what’s expected, all gold and ornate, only proves to bore you. There is little mystery to be found in riches.

None of it is of importance, anyway. It’s him you’re seeking out, and oddly enough, you find your specter in the courtyard staring down at the cluttered fountain. He shifts in place as you take to his side, fingers curling into loose fists momentarily before he offers you a small greeting by way of running a hand along the back of your neck, petting you as though you truly were only a puppy.

You shiver beneath that warm touch, seem to melt against him before collecting yourself enough to straighten up.

“I did not sleep well,” he says quietly, the look in his eyes tells you that he dreamt through your own. He had seen the decay and filth of the king’s city, perhaps even those angry, little things that you brought back to bite and sting and pinch.

“I didn’t either.”

You recognize that faint, strange smell when you move just a step closer to him, like dust and forgotten things. Not quite rot, but similar, a comfort for you as it’s all your fate has ever allowed for you to know. Yet, this is not one of your reanimations. Only a man.

A man, only, like you; touched by the rot.

The realization crosses your face by way of a widened glance, a sharp intake of breath. It stings again when he turns away from you, drops his hand back to his side.

“Will you walk with me, hündchen?”

“Sure.”

It’s no less strange pacing along at his side than roaming about the castle with no idea where he is. The specter still feels worlds away, even as your arm brushes over his, your fingers occasionally ghosting over his gloved hand. While the vivid blue of globe thistles and hydrangeas entertains your vision, that patient stare of his remains trained on you, even as the quiet settles over the garden once again.

In a way, you feel as though you’re being courted, even as the questions remain scurried and fluttering in your mind. The ghost, the man, whoever he is, refuses to sate that curiosity of yours even as you bring it up to him again. Why? He only responds in an almost boyish laugh that pulls at your heart, infuriating and delightful all the same.

You share a meal, something you’ve no idea how he managed to scrounge together or had the time to prepare at all. He’s been at your side all morning, yet the fruit pastries and tea are served warm as you seat yourself across from him at some grand, oak table. That sparked tingle of magic does not feather off of him as it does with your sisters, but you know without a doubt that he must have it. You glower at him a bit, lips pursed and brow pinched as he sips at his tea, not beneath but through the fabric of his black veil.

“You will have to explain what’s going on at some point,” you huff, pushing your plate away as if to make a show of it. No more accepting his gifts, even if your stomach growls in protest. “Especially if you’re trying to court me.”

It’s cute how wide his eyes go at that, his cup of tea nearly slipping from his hand. The surprise wears off almost immediately, his eyes narrowing in what you imagine must be amusement as you’re left feeling a bit humiliated. Your gaze flits over to the candles adorning the table as you nervously drum your fingers against the lap of your dress.

“Court you?”

“The gown, the walk, the food… is that not what this is?”

“Nein, hündchen…” He pauses to sigh, setting the cup against the table with a dull thud. “It’s better that I did not.”

You think to question him further, but hold back the words bubbling in your throat, sullenly picking at the food on your plate instead. It feels like courtship, would look like courtship to anyone else, but then again… you’ve never quite experienced it for yourself, either. You’re no noble lady, and it feels a bit silly to imagine yourself roaming a place like this with him as your suitor. For all you know, he could be some king from a neighboring kingdom, only offering you respite out of pity after falling from that wagon.

More likely, all of this is just some strange dreaming.

When your lunch is thoroughly picked apart on your plate, the cup emptied, you shift out of your seat and offer him a curt little bow of your head and move towards the door.

— — —

Your days are filled with him— the drab specter you’ve taken to calling König, King, simple and befitting a name as you can give to one without one. No one else lives here, at least that you can see. Not even the rats or scuttling insects you were used to dare to take up residence within this castle. Yet, you remain taken care of and well-fed. You walk at his side every morning and part ways after minimal conversation in the evening. It’s so simple yet odd it almost makes you feel uneasy.

The dreams remain through the eyes of another. Some are combat, and you don’t care for those, looking down to see blood on steel and settling with the odd sense of guilt that you’ve killed someone, even when the you who is not you does not seem to pause. In fact, he often laughs in those dreams, drinks his wine from a golden goblet while he polishes the thick mace in his lap, trousers stained with blood that is not his own.

Others are dreadfully dull. You watch as knights with long swords and silver plates circle around you, your muffled voice shouting demands of what you can only imagine must be tactics and plans for a war you would only ever be apart of in the late hour with your eyes closed.

Your unease nearly doubles on the fourth night, when you wake with a start, pulled from a dream where you see that same woman from the first wailing over a bloodied corpse to find König looming over where you rest. The curtains of your bed parted with what little moonlight filtering inside bathing him in an unearthly, bluish glow. As usual, he doesn’t breathe a word, only stares as you slowly peel back your sheet to sit up and face him fully.

“Is something wrong?,” you ask in a whisper, rubbing your palms against your eyes as you force yourself to pull through the haze of sleep.

“Du bist schön wenn du schläfst,” he hums. “Even having a nightmare.”

“You said you were not courting me.”

“I’m not, hündchen.”

He offers you a hand that you readily accept, hardly having time to marvel over just how cold his skin feels without his glove before you find your cheek pressed to a broad chest. Your breath catches in your throat, heart hammering with the urgency of a cricket’s song.

“You didn’t sleep well either?”

“Nein.”

“Maybe we could sleep together?,” you offer with a laugh that sounds stiff even to your own ears.

You expect some other quip about the status of your peculiar relationship, not a sigh, not the way König gently lowers you back into bed and climbs in to follow, not at your side, but rested with his head over the swell of your breasts. You’re almost certain your rib cage will bruise by the pounding in your chest this infatuation burdens you with.

He hums contentedly at the contact, props his chin up on the valley between your breasts.

“Warm,” he murmurs.

You reach to pull the blanket over you both without a word, staring up at the velvet curtain as you try to force yourself into a state of calm indifference.

It lasts for all of a single breath; König shifts, stroking over the fabric of your gown, bunching over your hip. His touch makes you shiver, too cold, as though he doesn’t have any body heat at all. Your arm settles over the expanse of his back, pulling him just a tad closer as you relax into the feather-stuffed mattress.

“Ja… I like this.”

“I do too...”

So, you sleep, so intertwined with one another that your body heat melts away the frigid touch of his own flesh with no discernment for where you end and he begins. Your dreams are absent in his presence, replaced by a solace you’ve never known as a comfortable stillness settles over you both.

When morning comes, an unhurried sun casting a dull glow through the arched window in the room, you’re pleasantly surprised to find him still here. You’ve shifted in the lack of dreaming, finding your positions opposite to when sleep had taken its hold; your head rests on König’s chest now, comfortably slow. He doesn’t feel as cold, though…

König does not breathe.

You hurriedly rise, throwing the covers off of you both and shove at him with a panicked urgency, desperately searching for any sort of reaction from him to ensure he hasn’t passed away in his sleep.

It’s not a corpse’s silence that you’re met with but an annoyed huff of breath as he grabs at your wrists and tugs you back down.

“Was..?” Your specter only sounds annoyed as he gazed down at you, keeping your trembling hands steady in his unyielding grip.

“You weren’t breathing! I thought…” You trail off, the words catching in your throat as you realize just how ridiculous that you sound. Of course he wasn’t dead. Even if he were a reanimation, no magic in the entirety of this kingdom would allow him to retain so much of his soul.

König only laughs at that, closes you in an embrace that sets your pulse racing again as he carefully maneuvers you below him. When he had become so familiar mattered not, you wouldn’t dare to complain. It’s achingly comfortable, brings a sigh from your parted lips as you fall back into that perfect, placid state of contentment.

“Hündchen… you worry too much,” he huffs, caging you in as he relaxes with his face pressed back to the divot between your breasts. “So many questions… too many concerns, ja?”

“I would not fret so much if you would just explain a few things.”

“Geduld.”

Though you do pout, make a show of your irritation by exhaling heavily, his tone harbors a calm finality. You’re not so sure that any reasoning for all of this would matter much at all anymore; whether it be a dream or some gentle corner of an afterlife you’ve found yourself tucked within, you only find that you never wish for it to end.

— — —

This dream is worse than any before it.

You feel your vessel’s emotions tenfold; a clamor of disquiet and rage, vicious and searing. The air is still and silent but heavy with the scent of iron. From the blurred view that you’re granted, the shapes of cadavers are easy enough to tell, all lain twisted in glistening pools of their own blood.

Your vessel isn’t moving, though you will your thoughts to encourage him to do so, he remains in place, a pillar destined to topple.

You don’t want to see it, yet waking eludes you.

The sounds of hurried footsteps fill the quiet, a shout to your right that you do not even have the capability to turn towards. Cursed are hissed, warbled and unfamiliar, only recognized by their venom. You know that this is the end, a brutal, grisly one for your counterpart and for these dreams in their entirety.

When wicked steel carves it’s way into your vessel’s middle, you feel how tightly he clenched his jaw to bite back a howl of agony, take the subdued, shooting pain spreading through him as though it were your own. Try as you might, you can not wake; forced to be a voyeur to this stranger that you’ve grown fond of’s gruesome demise.

The vessel’s head is tugged forward, forced to kneel at the feet of the brute who has buried a dagger into his side. A sneer paints the man’s face as your counterpart’s veil is thrown away, and you recognize it— that same shroud of black, stained with imagined tears as it falls to a small heap onto a bloodstained floor.

König.

You wake with a start in a haze of utter confusion, catching your breath as the truth of it all crawls down to settle someplace within you. A cold sweat settles over your skin, bringing with it the rise of slight goose pimples and an incessant tremble.

The specter is just as you had suspected in that brief moment between bonding and sleep, dead and long-forgotten; a corpse made man again. This isn’t some silent kingdom, but a well-preserved crypt.

It hurts.

You wash your face in the water of the small basin at the corner of the room, change from your bed gown into a dress of a drab gray. Even to yourself, mourning a truth that’s been glaring you in the face since your arrival feels misplaced and odd, but that horrible sadness does not subside.

At least, not until you pry your door open to find König waiting just on the other side. He cocks his head at you, gaze softening in a silent understanding as your hand is fitted into his own.

The morning walk is less quiet this morning, a single dove could be heard cooing, hidden beneath the green of some sprawling alder’s leaves. König speaks to, explains some without giving all away. He tells you what he can remember, the details of his failed courting of the foreign princess with dark eyes and a petrified stare, the plot against him that dwindled out into a curse that’s left him here, but never an estimate for how long.

You listen in a perplexed silence, clutching his hand just a bit tighter as each questioning cobweb is swept away with a low voice droning out a story better left untold.

When he finishes, with your free hand sifting it’s fingers through the petals adorning a hydrangea shrub, you think to tell him one simple truth: “I can’t bring you back.”

It startles you when he suddenly pulls you in, resting his chin atop your head and curling those broad arms over your shoulders. The embrace is tight, a certain desperation in his touch as though he almost fears the thought of you pulling away. Strange from a man you now knew had not even feared his own death.

“Nein. I just want to be understood.”

And you do understand, perfectly, as only one also touched by the rot could.

— — —

There’s never a night that you don’t find yourself asleep with König mere centimeters away, if there is any gap between at all, anymore. He feigns his breath until you’re fast asleep, takes to playing human enough to not worry you any further, even after you explain that it doesn’t, not any longer. Always, you wake to his head buried against your chest, listening to the fragile beating of your heart until you stir to wake him. Your hands rove over his veil, but never question what he hides beneath it. You already know without seeing— the wicked, sprawling scar from where his head was once wrenched from his body.

A necromancer and a lich, of all things. If the bards in the King’s city were to ever know, your story would be passed from tavern to tavern until it became little more than the stuff of myth.

The thought occurs to you when you wake, huffing a drowsy little giggle as you repeat your morning ritual, fingertips grazing over the dark fabric obscuring König’s face until heavy eyelids languidly part to focus his attention on that mirthful expression painted across your face.

“I have changed my mind,” he declares some moments later as he nuzzles in the divide between your neck and shoulder, unhurried and gentle as he always seems to be with you.

“Hm?”

“I will court you.” A statement that would make most with a better grasp on the disparity between what’s living and dead flinch back in horror. Though, where most would consider corruption, you only take it as further confirmation to your mutual devotion.

“You already have been.”

He falls silent at that for a moment, trailing a cold path of chaste kisses along your jaw, lazy and soft to a point you can feel the grin beneath his hood.

Finally, he hums in agreement.

“Then I should have you, hm?”

He drags a palm down your thigh to your knee, the pad of his thumb bunching up the fabric of your gown as he presses against you, tracing small circles.

Your mouth feels dry when you part your lips to speak once more. The words falter, engulfed in a far more desperate flame; someplace far off, in the back of your mind you can hear them echo, bouncing from cavern walls.

“Hündchen..,” he rasps quietly. Maybe he’s thought it too, that this should be far more innocent, but the way he furiously tugs your undergarments down to your ankles belies his interest far more than some ideal, ancient telling of courtship would ever allow.

“You want to..?”

König laughs, whether it’s at your words or the surprise on your face, you didn’t know. Despite your nudity, he doesn’t look at you down there, his eyes remain locked on your face. There’s something wild and uncanny about them, something bordering on madness. His breathing is heavier, as if he’s fighting back the urge to bury his head in your cunt and breathe you in, and you’re almost certain that after all of your yearning he could bring you to ruin from a puff of breath alone.

He echoes your question with barely contained amusement, until you breathe out your consent. You sound just uncertain enough to prompt him to pull away briefly, raising up to look you in the eyes as his own narrow in search of any signs of apprehension. Finding none, a heavy palm meets your chest to push you to lie down in full as his head dives between your thighs without hesitation.

The feeling of a wide tongue slipping over your slit prompts an immediate reaction— a sharp cry that has you slamming your palm over your mouth in an effort to not break the peace settled over this place.

Every lick is slow and deliberate, a far cry from enough stimulation to properly get you off. It’s as if he’s doing this to prepare you rather than bring you to ruin. His tongue thrusts into you at a languid pace, fucking you open with heady muscle rather than the cold touch of his fingers. For that you’re grateful, but it just isn’t enough.

König huffs another chuckle against your sex when you whine and buck your hips, desperately searching for a friction that just isn’t being supplied. His hands press against your hips to hold you in place, the pads of his thumbs circling against your abdomen as he tries to set you at ease.

“Be patient,” he mumbles as he raises his head, bottom lip slowly raking over the hood of your aching clit. You find it difficult to comply, but in a way you feel fortunate to even experience this much. Who else could say that they were being fucked by the tongue of a titan and be believed? His lips close around your sensitive bud, tongue languidly circling over it, kissing you there as gently as he can manage. The very moment a moan is pulled from you, breaking the silence of his concentration he tears back to lick far further down than you were prepared for, before climbing over you instead of allowing you a release.

The taste of you lingers on his tongue when your face is pushed beneath the veil, an urgent probing as he thrusts the muscle into your waiting mouth, sampling the mixture of your saliva and slick. A palm is splayed over your thigh, forcing you to open yourself to him despite the strain.

He proves he’s less patient than he pretends to be; that’s all of the preparation that you get.

A breath later you feel yourself speared open, the girth of his tip slipping into you with involuntary resistance. Your gasp is met with a keening groan from his open mouth, quickly stifled as he bites into the side of your neck. Each thrust is shallow, the head of his cock spreading you meticulously until you’re nearly in tears from your own impatience. His body temperature is far cooler than your own, and you feel as if you’re more of a mess than you’ve ever been prior as his own precum mixes with the arousal already freely dribbling past your swollen labia.

You kick your leg out, force your hips in a different angle to push him in deeper only to have his grip tighten and his teeth dig into your flesh. Again and again, until you’re a babbling mess beneath him.

“König… please..,” You manage to choke out, voice small and barely audible over the obscene sounds pulled from the wetness of your cunt.

Immediately, your pleading is answered with a slam of his hips, the thick cock forced to its hilt inside of your pulsing walls. König’s head lolls back, his free hand curling over your hip as he grunts. He isn’t making love to you, but fucking into you like a man possessed. A palm fitted over your mouth wouldn’t silence the obscene sounds of sex, nor the bed creaking beneath your combined weight as he pumps into you; each drag is pure rapture as he fills you entirely.

The repetitive spearing of your sweet spot brings you to a near-painful orgasm, trembling cunt only sucking him in further with each pulsing wave of bliss. The quiet is forgotten entirely as you whine out your praises between wanton moans and breathy cries.

He kisses you, proper and sweet when he comes. The thickness of his seed floods you, spilling out onto the sheets below as he fucks it back into you, his pace never slowing until the throbbing of his cock comes to an abrupt end.

The hand holding your leg in place retreats to gently brush your cheek, his thumb grazing beneath your eye until you reach for his wrist to pull it down to kiss over his palm. He returns your kisses with a breathy laugh before pressing his forehead to your own, kissing from the tip of your nose down to your chin.

“I do understand,” you whisper against cool flesh.

“Ja… because you were made for me.”

You don’t disagree.

This morning is the first you’ve caught sight of a breeze, gently pushing at the curtains lining the bed, the first you’ve heard of any semblance of life beyond yourself. When your eyelids flutter shut, relaxation prying away any residual tension, you almost think you can hear the pounding of a second heart— one you can only think to wish together with your own.

#könig x reader #könig x you #konig x reader #konig x you #cod fanfiction #könig #konig #and now i sleep for 40hrs farewell everyone everywhere

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pretty-batty · 3 months ago

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Feast for the Beast

Eddie x Original Female Character Pt 8 of Eldath's Priestess 3963 Words

Warning: SMUT (18+ only), description of facial deformities, monster fucking, rough sex, thigh fucking, inhuman shween, biting, messy sex. Allusions to past "carrion" eating, body horror, gore, stitches. Now on ao3 Thank you @anakinkshamer for being my beta reader

Summary: Eddie can no longer keep up the lie. But can Judy handle the beast he becomes under Vecna's frenzy?

The frenzy was coming soon. The need to hunt gnawed at the back of Eddie’s head, raising what little hackles he had. He insisted they wait to change his stitches. Rather than tell them why, he explained that he needed to prepare himself.

He sat on the couch with Judy nestled in the crook of his arm. And like the magical psychic she was, Judy looked up at him and spoke. “You okay, baby?”

He was silent, contemplating whether to lie again. But one look in her gray eyes, he decided against it. His lips parted to push out a shaky sigh. “Getting hungry.”

“Like normal hungry…?”

He shook his head, his curls dancing over her face. Judy grinned, shimmying out of his arm and sweeping her leg over his hip. She stroked down his shoulders, settling in his lap. Oh. Sexy hungry. Eat you out hungry. She knew it, smiling. “You can feed on me.”

All Eddie did was just stare at her shoulder, face sullen. No amount of her grinding herself against him could stir him out of it. Her smile dropped as she dismounted, kneeling between his legs. Her fingers cradling his face, trying to catch his eyes.

“It’s not a joke.” He whispered, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay,” Judy cooed, “okay, baby. What did you do before?”

He managed a choked whine, clamping his eyes shut and shaking his head. His chest heaved in short bursts, hyperventilating before letting go in a cry from behind his teeth. His brow dropped onto her shoulder, crying against whatever fabric she was wearing.

He shuddered like a flower caught in a harsh wind, cradled in Judy’s arms. Finally, he collected himself enough to tell her. Admit his most horrible act as he dragged himself through hell.

“I feasted on the…” He blinked hard, regaining himself, “the dead. Carrion. Like a vulture. There were so many, and I didn’t even think. It was like something was eating through me. I was still hungry, my stomach felt empty, but the nagging pain, the creature in my arms and legs, thrashing behind my eyes, was at peace. It would happen every week, and when my mouth would heal, every time, the seams would split open again. It’s why I keep my face stitched up. Why I stayed away, even when I had a mind of my own.” Eddie’s soft gaze met Judy’s, pleading for some solace in his confession, “I’m a monster, Judy.”

But Judy was silent. Her heart ached, broken for a boy who was never malicious. Not for as long as she knew him. Taking a beat with a soft smile in her eyes, she made her decision. She would take care of him. She gave his shoulders a squeeze before standing. “Is it blood, or just flesh?”

“Both.”

“Does the source matter?” She turned to the window.

“No.”

“Okay,” she watched the cars pass by her house, “let me take care of it.”

-------------

Who knew meat was so heavy? Several pounds of shoulder, brisket, and offal (edible organs) hung off her body from various plastic bags. The last was cradled in her arms in a paper bag. A liter of pigs blood. She was still bristling at the interaction she had with the butcher.

“I don’t keep Kosher.” Was all she should have had to say. Not play 20 questions with a man she’d never see again, God willing.

She entered to see Wayne and Margie at the dinner table. Eddie was hiding out in her room.

“Did he tell you what was going on?”

“Didn’t have to, a lot of people have been swooped at by those bat things tonight. Those weird beasts running in the woods. Animals dead. Must be like a feeding frenzy.” Wayne said plainly, nodding to Judy’s bounty, “those for him?”

“Yeah, enough to equate to a quarter of an adult male. I hope it’s enough to sate it and make it easier for him.” She admitted, hauling the bags to the counter. “Don’t know how to prepare it, though. I don’t want him to feel like an animal.”

Margie rested a hand on Judy’s shoulder, “I think I can help with that. I’ve read all about preparing offal. Those will be untouched. As for the meat, I think giving him a variety will make it more sensible. Let’s unwrap what we will use now, stash the other in the cooler. The new fridge will be delivered tomorrow.”

Judy’s aunt was always a wonderful cook, even if there was no actual cooking involved. Her palate was second to none, and in another life, she would have easily beaten the best chefs of the era. Her plate dressing was the most notable, as she could dress even the most grotesque creation beautifully. The way her hands sliced and handled the cuts of beef and pork, the way she heated the blood and thickened it to form a gravy, it was as if she was preparing the grandest meal for the highest king.

As Judy carried the tray to her bedroom, she couldn’t help but marvel at the meal. Eddie met her at the door, mouth covering his face. His eyes wide in fear, Eddie nudged Judy out of the way as he bolted to the bathroom. He stopped in the doorway, looking to the tray in Judy’s hands.

“Oh uh, thanks!” He slipped the food from her hands.

Before she could say, “you’re wel-” He closed the door and turned on the fan.

There was no click of the lock, but Judy respected the little privacy that piece of wood provided him. She simply slid down the wall beside the door, sitting and listening for him to call for her when he was finished.

But she didn’t hear him speak, only hiccupping sobs and feverish gnashing of teeth ricochetting off the walls of the shower. He groaned and sighed as the meat traveled down his throat, the beast within him sounding pleased. He slurped the thickened blood and continued to consume all that was before him. The fan covered up any other sounds. In fact, the only one who could hear anything was Judy. Eddie would appreciate that once the frenzy was over.

That’s when she heard him whine, hyperventilating. No more chewing sounds, no more scarfing and grunting. There was a thump on the shell of the shower, then the sound of the faucet starting and then the shower head. Another whine, and then sobs, as quiet as he could be.

“Eddie, are you okay?” Her fist gently rapped at the door, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” came a breathy voice, before trying again to be heard, “yeah.”

She did so, sliding through the smallest crack she could make before closing the door behind her. Eddie was in the shower, the curtain had been removed. He had rummaged through the garage when Judy was out gathering his meat, bringing out a large, heavy drop-cloth. He had laid it to cover the entirety of the floor from the tub to the sink. It collected the water droplets that sprayed from the shower, mixing with the specks of viscera from his feast.

“I…uhm…I popped a stitch.” He said, the tremble in his voice returning.

Judy was finally able to take him in, or all that he would let her see. His legs were folded in on himself, hiding his pelvis. The blood diluted by the water washing from his body and swirling down the drain.

“It’s okay. We were going to take them out anyway, clean you up before we put in new ones.” She smiled, reaching through the shower’s stream to stroke what little of his face she could reach.

His mouth was swollen and red, covered in blood, each time he moved his jaw to speak the cracks in his face split, straining against the stitches. The inner stitch on either corner of his mouth was gone, no doubt down the drain. “Can you…can you cut the others? Release my mouth it really hurts. I can’t do it myself, I’m…” He grit his back teeth, “I’m scared.”

Judy turned off the shower, allowing the rest of the water to pour out the drain. She retrieved the cuticle scissors and doused the blades in isopropyl alcohol, volunteering her own towel to Eddie, letting him gently pat his aching face dry. She didn’t notice how his eyes fluttered closed when he smelled it. His hands immediately covering his cock and his jaw clamping back a moan.

They managed to configure themselves in a way that had Eddie’s head leaning back and resting on a folded towel, Judy leaning over him with one light bulb able to not be eclipsed by Judy’s puffy hair. Thankfully the tissue around the stitches had been moved enough to disturb buildup.

“You ready, big guy?” Judy asked, pushing her glasses back up her nose. Eddie nodded and closed his eyes. His body tensed to keep himself still, to ease the process for her. She leaned in and began to carefully snip through each stitch, the grody cotton falling away slowly as the doubled-up thread gave way to each close of the blades.

Judy’s neck was all Eddie could see, and smell. The expanse from shoulder to shoulder, chin to sternum, exposed to him and all that entailed. Her smell, the warmth from her skin. Each inhale he took sent an intense wave of need to his cock.

Unbeknownst to Judy, Eddie’s genitals had swollen far beyond human comparison. As if fluid beneath the skin had gathered and smoothed out and imperfections. It was softer in feeling but larger in girth. Clear fluid streaming out of the tip, hot and itching for her. And it ached. Oh, how his entire lower half ached. He clamped his hands around it, trying to slow it down, but that did nothing but make it worse. Stroking did too. Like it ached for one thing only, the thing that had awoken it in the first place.

Judy.

She was so engrossed in the procedure, obsessing over gently snipping each stitch, she hadn’t seen anything else. The top two lines of stitches had released, and the skin pulled back. She saw the gums around his canines and pre-molars had receded, and the tooth itself growing into the bone, making them bigger, tougher. The edges of the skin were raw. His top lip, which resembled the top lip of a Demogorgon maw, released upward to show his incisors, the gums had receded there too, but not to the same extent. The teeth meant for tearing meat were strengthened, where there would be porous dentine and bone was more enamel. If she didn’t love him, his face would have been unnerving.

But to Judy, she was just sad. Morose even over the immense pain this first transformation must have been for him.

She moved to each cheek, each stitch clipped wave way to his back teeth. All the way to his top two wisdom teeth. After the pre-molars, the rest of the teeth were unchanged. The last stitch strained slightly, causing Eddie’s focus to return to his mouth. He folded his lips and cheeks, firming the corners of his mouth, allowing her to snip the last.

“Good job, Eddie.” She sighed, placing a kiss between his brows. Eddie’s hum was more lustful than proud. “Can you keep your mouth closed for the other side?”

“Mm.” He answered, forcing all his facial muscles together. She continued, this time the tension was minimal. A relief each time the thread gave to the blades, but the tension continued to build elsewhere.

His chin was the final set. The hardest to cut through. The one he obsessed over, sewing it together in a cross-stitch, keeping it from separating at all. That was how he could talk, by keeping his hands over the other fissures, he could leave his bottom lip and chin to move. Without it, his face was unrecognizable, and any hope of talking was gone.

One of Eddies hands gripped Judy’s wrist, soaked by his cock and the juices that flowed from it. She felt it drip down her arm as she stopped.

He shook his head.

“You want to wait until we can fix it immediately?”

He nodded.

Judy’s eyes traveled down the stitches, like a trail to finally bring her focus to his swollen cock laying against his abdomen. “Oh my God, Eddie. What?”

Eddie’s other hand lifted from it to form his mouth again, not realizing it would reveal him completely. She stopped him before he could with a stern “no.”

He kept his lips pursed, forcing his maw closed as Judy ran hot water from the faucet and put a bar of soap in his hands. In his panicked and feral mind, he had forgotten about cleanliness, haphazardly washing his hands before forming a cup around his maw, opening a gap between his fingers to allow sound to emanated from the chamber. “Hurts…really bad. Like…not infected bad but…I just. Your smell. It’s…” He blinked back his shame, kneeling in the tub as his need dripped down his balls. “I tried when you were focused, see if it would calm it down.”

It took her a moment to realize what he was trying to say. The frenzy must heighten other desires besides food, other hungers.

“It just made it worse. I need…”

“Okay.”

“What?”

“Okay, let’s do this. Holy shit…” She looked at it. “Uhm…We’d need to be in a different position. Because that’s not fitting when I’m on my back. Shit but I need something under my hips if we’re doing it from behind.” Judy continued to stew. She slipped out of the bathroom, returning with her boombox, Ride the Lightning still inside. She continued to mutter to herself regarding logistics and the ethics of having sex with him in a feral state. She closed the door and locked it, taking off a piece of clothing at a time, starting with her earrings and ending with her jeans. Breasts still contained behind a front-clasped bra, panties at her hips. She finished her torrent of planning, “Drop cloth should be fine.”

She turned to Eddie, also on his feet, gazing at his face in the mirror. From a distance, he opened his maw, tongue sliding along his back teeth. Getting on her knees, she gazed up at him. His eyes left his own reflection in the mirror, to see it in her glasses instead. Judy finally got to see it, the petals of his cheeks moving independently from his jaw, flashes of teeth and reddened gums. The bright yellow of his eyes returning.

His claws reached out, removing her glasses for her and placing them on the counter. His talon pressed down on the boombox’s switch. With the slam on his drums, Lars and Cliff opened the guitars into their two-note cry. A startling opening to the album’s title track.

Intense. Guitar licks like you wouldn’t believe. Most of all, it was loud. Loud enough to cover the sound of a hard fuck.

Judy’s favorite.

She loved to fuck to Ride the Lightning.

Judy couldn’t see the details of Eddie’s face, just streaks of red and pink blending into his pale skin. When he got close enough to her, his maw was pinched together, pressing his forehead against hers. His claws caressed her face and neck, chest beginning to rise and fall deeper. Her scent filling his nose, striking the iron in his core. He was stalling. There was no doubt. She could hear him grinding his molars, clenching to control.

“Eddie, baby, it’s okay.” She said, her voice nearly hypnotic to his frazzled nerves, “I’ll be fine.” Her hand reached down and ghosted her fingertips over his swollen cock, more need seeping from his slit. “Take what you need.”

His breathing came out stuttered, short inhales and exhales before one long sigh. Judy took a chance, her lips gently pressing against the petals of his top lip. Another long sigh passed through his nose, his hips gently bucked into the air.

Eddie’s glowing eyes narrowed playfully, parting from her and crawling to slot himself behind her. There was a sense of excitement in Judy’s body, heart fluttering down to her pussy. In this circumstance, logically, she knew she should have been on her guard. But in the end, her lust won out.

She wanted to try it.

Facing the locked door, palms against the coarse drop cloth, Judy readied herself. She shimmied out of her panties with the help of Eddie’s claws. His hot shaft rested along the crack of her ass. Any touch let to a stream of pre-cum to leave Eddie’s cock. He grasped himself and stroked the head along her folds, painting her with it. Sinking the tip in a few times, guiding his own need inside of her with his talons. Judy purred at the attention, but her knees and shoulders ached already.

Facing away from him, she believed she could hide her pout. But the sigh was audible enough, and Judy’s eyes widened when she realized it. Looking over her shoulder to see Eddie’s blurry but furrowed brow, his eyes narrowed again.

He grasped her hips, sinking himself inside of her. Pulling her closer and closer until it stopped. In Judy’s surprise, she had clenched. His right hand ran up her spine, warm palm and a little pressure, as if to say, “relax.”

She breathed deep into her abdomen, lips parting in a moan. Eddie continued to thrust himself in.

The cock was softer, stiff enough to drive into her, but the skin itself gave as he fucked her. With each pass, his need milked out from his tip and flowed into her. Eddie continued to grow more mindless, needing more, more, more.

Judy's arms weakened as he kept going. From behind her, Eddie's maw hung open, his pointed tongue tasting the air as he panted. Finally, her arms gave out as she slowly rested herself on the drop cloth, arms folded to support her head. Each time he drew out from her, their combined juices fell down her legs.

Eddie's claws gripped her hips harder as he took on her weight. Without his hands or stitches, he could not speak. But with this little lift, he was whispering to her “let go.”

Judy could sense it, surrendering control to Eddie as he continued to fuck into her. All he had to do was keep her up, keep her close. One hand moved up to grip her shoulder, the other remaining on her hip as he bounced her on his swollen cock. Her entrance finally gave way to the swollen base, and she let out a whine from her gritted teeth.

Their combined need poured from her with each draw of his cock, his pace growing more frantic. Judy had receded into herself completely. Her clit remained untouched, and each sensation remained somewhat muted. This was not for her pleasure.

Eddie pulled out a little too far, and when attempting to slide back in with the next thrust, his cock missed and ran between her thighs. His tip catching her clit and leading to a gasp from her lips. He froze.

She unfolded her arms, sinking her palms back to the floor. “Fuck, Eddie please do that again.”

Her thighs instinctively tried to close, and rather than keep them open, Eddie readjusted himself. He pushed her thighs closed, bracketing his calves on either side of hers. Her soft skin enveloped his cock as he drew himself back. Just as it had inside her, his cock gave way and expelled more from his tip. His cock stroking her lips and clit as he did it again. And again. Judy's head reared back, eyes closed with a smile, finally receiving attention as her skin buzzed.

Eddie's face drove forward, bending over her to press himself into the side of her neck. His maw opened to her skin to taste as he returned to his thrusting. The tip of his cock rubbing against her with such fervor, she quickly doubled over, trembling. It was too much. But she wouldn't deny him. No fear of wrath, nor sting of shame kept her, oh no, it was his hunger she fell prey to.

The old Eddie's hunger, amplified by the mindless rutting, his spit and need covering her body. Her nerves were alight in pleasure. Tears springing from her closed lashes. Her jaw kept clenched. She hung her head down, opening her eyes to see it. The head of his swollen cock slipping between her thighs, the release growing cloudier with each pass.

He was getting close, sweat dripping down their bodies as Judy lifted her head. Eddie followed suit, pulling her back with him until his back hit the floor. She felt him cling to her, trusting her to keep her own thighs shut as he continued rutting. His heels dug into the floor, legs tensed as he kept himself up. His teeth sunk into Judy's shoulder, making her scream out, covered by Kirk Hammet's wailing solo that continued to blast through the boombox.

His whole body tensed beneath her as his cock erupted, cum streaming from between her thighs, each pass leading to another fountain of him. He emptied himself onto Judy's skin, hotter than she had ever felt before. Everything below her navel and above her knees was soaked in him, below them as well.

Finally, he was empty. The frenzy was gone. He released her shoulder from his maw. His arms weakened but still stayed around her. Judy remained still, trembling. His bite surprised her. His power surprised her.

Not being able to hear his voice, that scared her.

No skin was broken on her shoulder, but the bruises were deep. Eddie had never bitten her before, not like this. A little nip occasionally, but not a whole chomp. She was the one more likely to do that. And even then, it was rare.

Judy didn’t know what to do. She was completely soaked. Eddie’s cock still clamped between her thighs. But, to her relief, Eddie was willing to take control. He laved his tongue over her bitemark before kissing it as well as he could. His hands guided her left arm around his neck, his hands sliding beneath her thighs. He sat up, pulling his legs beneath him. Their mess fell from between Judy’s parted thighs, a slight hop and he balanced on the balls of his feet.

“I don’t think you can do that. You’re not strong enough.” Judy said, voice coming out like a strained whisper. But Eddie simply breathed deep, picking her up as he rose to his full height. Judy’s free hand scrambled to find something to grip on to. She watched his eyes move from her to the toilet. She lifted the lid and Eddie set her down, letting her feet finally reach the floor. She stood, hand resting on the counter, giving her a way to guide herself on to the toilet.

As she did what she needed to do, Eddie started the shower once again. The drop cloth caught the torrent of sex and famine, but as Eddie nodded to the shower, she realized she would not be the one to clean up. She was back in his hands.

He joined her, taking turns under the water. She gazed at him, vision still obscured, water blocked by his head. His maw opened into a smile, too wide to be human, before leaning his head to the side. The showerhead sprayed water directly into Judy’s face, before once again being blocked by Eddie’s head.

As Judy sputtered in surprise, backing up to rub her eyes, she smiled to herself.

Thank God, he’s back.

Phew, that was intense! Thank you so much for reading my loves. I will start giving myself a less intense deadline. New chapters every weekend. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! tag list: @loserboysandlithium

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kittythelitter · 5 months ago

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Thinking about a stobin focused shifter au where anyone who spends a little too long in the upsidedown becomes a shifter to a slightly demo/unsettling/vaguely off version of whatever animal they're most like, and control is hard, and amount of time spent in the upsidedown correlates to how much time you can/need to spend in shifted form.

So like Will, even after he gets control, needs to/wants to spend like half his time shifted but can't be shifted full time.

After getting stuck in the tunnels Hopper is like. Needs an hour/day on average and can stay shifted for up to 6 hours at a time.

After the tunnels Dustin, Lucas, Max, Steve, and Mike need a few hours a week/can stay shifted up to 3 hours at a time ish.

And then after season 4, Steve is up to Will levels because he got double (or even triple depending on how you look at it) exposed.

Robin, Nancy, and Eddie are like. Slightly more than Hopper. Like maybe need 1.5-2 hours a day can stay shifted for like 8 hours if necessary.

Dustin is now almost Hopper level because he got exposed a second time.

It takes time to learn control and obviously Will gets the most control quickly followed by everyone who got exposed in season 2. When the younger teens are going through puberty their control fluctuates enough that they all have to take time off from school to work on it. Steve is the best of the Season 2 Crew at getting and maintaining control because he has a lot of practice with physical activity and conditioning and personal discipline when it comes to sports and body control. El can help to a certain extent.

Anyway. All this to say. I can't decide on animals for everyone and I'd love input.

Steve is very much dog. He's loyal and protective and all that good stuff. And he mostly seems like a normal dog maybe with a little bit of a skin condition that makes his skin under his fur a weird texture but mostly normal except when he gets protective sometimes his mouth opens too big and he has too many teeth and bigger claws.

For Hopper I'm thinking also Dog but like. A dog that is Off. There's something weird about that dog like those dogs that look like they might be people in fur suits from certain angles.

Will I'm thinking something small and good at hiding. Like a burrowing rodent maybe. Like a rabbit or a hamster or a mouse or a Rat.

Henry/Vecna/One is a turkey or maybe a turkey vulture because turkeys are ugly and evil.

Dustin I wanna say small predator mammal like a weasel or a ferret or a stoat but IDK.

Mike is i think a very similar dog to Steve and HATES that they're so similar but I'm open to suggestions.

Max is a cat.

Lucas is also a cat because I don't have a better one for him except maybe also a dog like Steve because he and Steve are also similar and he looks up to Steve but I think it would be cute if he and Max were both cats but like very different kinds of cats but I'm very open to input here.

Robin is also a Cat (can you tell cats are my favorites?)

Nancy is some kind of persistence predator I think. Maybe a cat maybe something smaller and cuter but also deadlier. Like those super cute tiny wild cats that are the most deadly predators you know? I'd love input from people who know more about Nancy I love her but I don't get her like I get Robin yk?

Eddie is a raccoon or a bat but I will take feedback on this

Please let me know what you think and if you have other ideas for what animals they should all be.

Really tho I'm just. Imagining the cuddle piles and also Robin and Steve being inseparable in all forms but particularly Robin getting one of those tennis ball chuckers to tire Steve out when he's in a Mood and like. Everyone who doesn't Know thinks Robin has a pet dog and her parents are like. We think it's actually Steve's dog but it likes Robin more and she is more of a cat person but she loves This Dog in particular.

Also. Eddie having a compulsion to dig through everyone's stuff including dirty laundry piles and trash. And Eddie accidentally instinctively washing his weed and being like. Oh shit. Shouldn't have done that.

#stranger things #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #shifter au #upsidedown shenanigans #stranger things au #Steve Harrington #Robin Buckley #Eddie Munson #will byers #everyone else to a certain extent but i don't feel like tagging them all #Eddie lives #in this. obviously #also if i Write this it will be #steddie

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blanketmoss · 3 months ago

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Ok here’s the second banned episode of Critter Cul-de-sac, again under a cut because I started writing a novel towards the end there

Banned ep 2

‘Crazy creepy Cathartiformes’

S2 ep2 ‘Crazy creepy cathartiformes’ was set to air on Halloween, and introduced the ‘villain’ characters Boris Bat and Viktor Vulture

The episode starts with a few of the main characters in Halloween costumes, all boasting about who’s going to get the most treats. They all suddenly scream as a dark figure swoops over their heads, a giant bat dressed as a vampire. They decide it must have been a trick and laugh it off. Later on in the episode they encounter the bat again, but this time he’s crouched down in front of a lady, Primrose Peacock, and there’s a red substance over the floor and his face. When he sees the main cast approaching he’s startled, and takes off into the night.

Scared and confused they all rush to the aid of Miss Primrose but she’s unconscious, so they take her to doctor damselfly, all the while fearfully discussing the possibility of a real life vampire and comforting each other. However the episode gets worse from here, another scene shows Millie Moth, excited for a celebration that happens when she’s awake, walking past a graveyard. However when she peeks through the fence she’s met with a horrifying sight. It’s the same bat her friends saw earlier drinking a large glass of something red while the biggest bird she’s ever seen, a giant vulture, seems to be trying to dig into a grave with his bare claws. The vulture slowly lifts his head and something red and stringy falls from his beak.

Millie screams and runs away to find her friends, before the two cannibals can get her. The whole friend group ends up preparing things to go on a vampire hunt, even the usually dubious of the group banding together to collect wooden stakes, silver jewellery and garlic. They sneak back to the graveyard but as they peer through the fence a giant shadow looms behind them, the clawed tip of a bat’s wing taps Millie on the shoulder. The group all scream, turning around and ready to launch their collection of weapons and repellant when suddenly the bat speaks. He asks in a voice much meeker than they were expecting if Miss Primrose is feeling alright.

The group express their disbelief, immediately accusing Boris of drinking blood and hanging out with cannibalistic birds, among a slew of other criminal activity they’d imagined in their fear. He gets very flustered and explains that wasn’t the case; when he’d swooped over their heads he’d simply dropped his watch and didn’t want it to hit them, he hadn’t drank Miss primrose’s blood, he’d been drinking juice but he’d spilled it all over the floor. Miss primrose had been walking over to offer him some money to buy a new carton, but she’d slipped in the puddle and bumped her head. He’d left because he knew that they knew her much better than he did, and thought that he’d just get in the way of help.

The group calmed down, but that still didn’t explain his friends grave robbing! They started to accuse again, until Barry provided another explanation. The digging motion wasn’t digging at all, he was pulling weeds from around the headstone, and the red stringy stuff? It was wool, the grave was for Viktors beloved pet cat mimi, (for explanation there are both anthropomorphic bipedal and regular quadruped versions of animals. It’s like similar to humans vs monkeys) every Halloween night her ghost comes back with all the others, so he was making sure her ball of wool was untangled for her to play with. The episode ended with a lengthy apology from each of the group, which Barry seemed satisfied with, however at the very last part Viktor is seen scowling at the group from a hiding spot in the dark, quietly voicing his hatred for those who jump to conclusions to himself.

The entire episode was banned after airing once, due to massive complaints from parents about children getting nightmares, satanic imagery and depictions of cannibalism. (Also the implication ghosts were real near the end) Most of the issue was due to the fact the horror was simply too much for the intended younger audience, even if it was proven false at the end. Most parents didn’t let their kids watch that far, especially after seeing the grave scene in particular.

An entirely different episode 2 was made with a different villain origin for Boris and Viktor. This ended up being for the best though, as the new story put much more reason behind Viktor’s motives.

#two girl birds in love? nah nah no too much for the kiddywinks #…cannibalism you say? yep air it! full approval!!!

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thecoolerhamtastic · 1 year ago

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BNA (Brand New Animal) AU no one asked for but you're getting it

Man if you think the town was fucked before, HOO BOI- Okay LIs and their animals though:

Robin: Rabbit. No particular breed or species. Prefers to hide or generally avoids using their beast side as much as they can unless either really late for school, which is rare, or is in full Flight Mode. However, at high confidence, you start to see them change form a little more often just for fun. Probably gets teased by classmates and you a lot because "you know what they say about rabbits-" (Nothing. Not until Vrel finally lets me breed hi-)

Kylar: Bat. Again, no particular species in mind atm. Also the type to avoid taking their beast form unless backed into a corner, but if the Whitney vs Kylar path of their Halloween event says anything (and, you know, this is the same person who was willing to stab a bitch just for sitting next to you), you probably don't want them in this form to begin with. Imagining them crawling and clinging to ceilings makes me feel insane. Absolute goblin. Probably doesn't fly much even when it'd be more convenient.

Also, they're probably a fruit bat, but there's definitely rumors about the freak going around and biting people's necks and them always smelling like garlic probably doesn't help.

Whitney: Polar bear. Despite how aggressive they are, they actually find more entertainment making people submit in their human form and surprisingly has the most control of their shapeshifting. If Whitney transforms, you know shit is BAD and you're probably going to die. Their animal form is something of a boogeyman around school because of that.

Sydney: Cat. Like, a really, REALLY fluffy cat. Surprisingly comfortable in their beast form, but it's still rare (just doesn't see a point) and they mostly bring it out for extra warmth.

Avery: Secretary bird. Also considered a pretty or fancy looking hound (think salukis, borzois, greyhounds, afghan hounds etc). Just anything with long legs and looks very graceful or elegant and harmless which makes their true nature worse once out.

Eden: Haven't met them besides one encounter but I kinda imagine some sort of vulture. Maybe a bearded vulture. Like yes they're a hunter but listen vultures are still cool-

Alex: (Horned) sheep or goat. I really like imagining them absolutely headbutting the shit out of Remy's goons. I think out of everyone (second to Eden anyway), they're probably the most comfortable with their beast form and likes to run around on the farm in it when given the chance. Will let those close to them cuddle into their wool if a sheep and just relaxing on the farm.

Now for the town...

Forgive me since it's been about a year or two since I watched BNA but considering how...let's say, unhinged this town is already, I'd imagine that folks are more free in switching between forms but there's still certain circumstances it should be avoided (like transforming during an argument can be seen as a threat or act of aggression even if triggered by accident like a heat of the moment type of thing). I also choose to ignore the ending that basically makes beastmen seem like ticking bombs if they're stressed enough bc I just think it's dumb and with some of the dark shit in this game, this town would've been decimated a long time ago.

#degrees of lewdity #dol robin #dol kylar #dol whitney #dol alex #dol avery #dol eden #dol sydney #ham musings

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emaciated-creechur · 2 years ago

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About me

Name: Victor

Age: 20

Gender/pronouns: Ftm trans and also a creature you can consider not even human (he/him|it/its)

Orientation: Bi (demisexual/grayromantic)

I'm autistic (probably have ADHD too) and I have DPDR, C-PTSD, a restrictive ED and I'm either haunted by ghosts and evil spirits or have schizophrenia.

Interests: Art and illustration, alt music, fashion and cultures, queer culture, fashion history, animation, biology (specially animals and anatomy), anatomy related to illustration, furries, vulture culture and taxidermy, 3d modeling, doll making and customization, sewing and embroidery, rollerskating

Likes: Bats (the animals), lemurs, cats (or felines in general), reptiles and birds, being warm, nature, sleeping in, tea or coffee depending on my mood, hanging out with friends, diet drinks, cool tinted glasses, wearing whatever clothes I want regardless of whether each outfit is the same style, going on walks while listening to music on my headphones, cinnamon on everything sweet

Dislikes: Being pressured to eat a certain way and/or a certain amount by other people, feeling overwhelmed, being touched by strangers, very cold weather, loud people and environments, too much sunlight/too bright lights/flashing lights, being talked down to/being treated like a child

DNI if you:

Are bigoted in any way shape or form

Don't have an eating disorder or don't self harm

Are younger than 15 (even though I'd prefer if you were 18+)

Think having an ed or shing is a good thing/encourage non disordered people to develop disordered behaviors that could lead to them getting an ed

Stats, goals and rules under the cut

My stats:

Height: 162cm

BMI: 16.7

HW: 49kg (108lbs)

LW: 43.8kg (96.5lbs)

CW: 43.8kg (96.5lbs))

GW1: 45kg (99.2lbs)

GW2: 40kg (88lbs)

GW3: 35kg (77lbs)

UGW: 30kg (66lbs)

Rules and Goals I've set for myself:

I need to lose at least 5kg this month

Exercise for at least 1hr thrice a week before going to sleep

Walk every day for at least 2hrs. Do at least 10k steps regardless of the time it takes. The more steps and longer amount of time it takes the better

Avoid snacks at all costs unless I have to choose between a small snack and a full meal

Purge every time I eat something sweet as soon as possible

Drink at least 1 liter of water every day

Skip every meal I can without arousing suspicion

Once I finally get my scale from the mail and find a good hiding spot, I'll weight myself every Friday

Eat half of every plate no matter how much people insist I should eat more

Start preparing my own foods more often

Read every night before bed. At least 10 pages

If you wanna see me talk about random thoughts that go through my mind, they're under the tag #rambles of an emaciated creature

#Ed intro #rambles of an emaciated creature

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faenix-fire · 1 year ago

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After looking over this again, since I voted yesterday myself, I thought I'd give people a different perspective on why the concept of "what is a bird" is really based on opinion.

Our idea of a bird in the modern day is trapped in time, stuck with our current knowledge and our current eyes. Many things people have argued makes something not a bird in the notes, is inherently true to a bird that exists today. Which makes this ever long comical debate since we realized birds are dinosaurs, a funny thing to discuss.

Now, I thought about looking at this through the lens of medieval times, where birds were bats, and birds were bees, and flies were birds and many strange connections were made between unrelated animals.

The question here was, if you encountered these animals in the wild, what would you call birds? And I thought, without the modern depiction and science we cling to, what would those in the middle ages think, would they liken them to birds?

A) It flies, it has wings for gliding like a gul, it may look strange but so do the vultures that swoop through the mountains harvesting bones. It is like the birds of night and birds of day, it is indeed a bird.

B) This is the hardest one. No wings, and looks like it has protofeathers. The reason that they would by chance be called a bird is that, if this thing was seen in the woods, running about, it would run like a bird, it has the body, the stance, and a long tail like a pheasant. Any hunter who'd knew land birds would call this a demon bird that lost its wings, and its beak fell off to reveal teeth. A hunter would come stumbling into town ranting and raving about a tall black bird with its loss of flight and lost beak. The hunter would talk of its incredible speed and ability to hide in the dark. The demon bird would be hunted down or the woods would be considered cursed. There's a chance it could also be called a dragon because anything weird was a dragon.

C) This pheasant came out weird my king, I believe there is a witch at work here.

D) It's a bird with a head like a snake, and where the wings should bend, carries a second set of talons to render flesh. Its feathers hold spots like those of cats, but it is no cat. It is built to fight and I do not wish to see it bite me. Or skink its claws into my flesh.

E) It's the most beautiful bird anyone has ever seen. It's demanded to be captured and shown off in every court, its beauty and grace is above that of the peacock or even the legendary phoenix.

F) Demon chicken!!! Get the Dr. It bit a child that threw a rock to ward it away. We must see if young Timmy is possessed, or going to turn into a monster himself. Pray he may be saved, all of us pray in our homes tonight. Tomorrow the men will come with me to find the monster chicken and cleave it head.

G) It's just a normal predatory bird... Except its wings seem to be clipped and it runs upon the land with a tail far longer than it should be. This messed up bird was born defective but it has survived despite it all. We can only imagine how hard it is to live out there with the wolves.

H) Is that a crow? The debate on if it's a crow would last all evening between two men sitting and resting after tilling their land.

I) Ah, a sparrow.

J) Duck hunters catch it, eat it, and probably don't notice a difference in taste. At best, people believe it's a weird child of a swan and a duck and it gets taxidermied.

In conclusion, most humans in history would probably think or feel they are similar to birds. We only cut birds off at having to maintain their current forms because we're picky.

Bird is really a feeling, because if A is a bird, then lizards are birds :) because that is the cousin to dinosaurs and is not a dinosaur. Which means, all things tied back to the connection of dinosaurs and pterosaurs would be birds. Hello crocodile you are my favorite bird now :3

Bird is a feeling. Just like seals and bats can be puppies, and owls are sky cats. I'm just helping everyone out, because we all have a freaked out medieval peasant inside all of us that classifies animals on a feeling.

Below the poll is a series of animal images labeled A through J. A is the least close to the birds we have today; J is the closest. If you encountered these animals in the wild, which would you call birds? If you pick a higher up option, then that means you consider all the below ones birds as well - so if you pick A, then BCDEFGHIJ are all birds. If you pick J, only J is a bird.

PLEASE REBLOG THIS SO IT CAN LEAVE PALAEOBLR. I NEED PEOPLE WHO DON'T RECOGNIZE THESE ANIMALS ON SIGHT TO VOTE.

I apologize to all of y'all with vision impairments for whom this poll is inaccessible. Alas, this is an experiment, and I cannot name the taxa. Thank you.

All alt text includes artist attribution; I did not make these pictures myself.

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the-mortuary-witch · 9 months ago

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LOKI

WHO IS HE?

Loki is the Norse god of mischief and trickery. He is known for his unpredictable and manipulative nature, which frequently involves playing practical jokes or pranks on other Gods, mortals, and giants. He is also the God of fire, and he has a strong connection to the underworld and the realm of the dead. Loki is often portrayed as a shapeshifter who can take on the form of various animals, including snakes, foxes, bats, and even horses. He is also often associated with fire, creativity, innovation, and destruction.

BASIC INFO:

Appearance: his appearance in Norse mythology can vary greatly, depending on the source. In some depictions, he is described as being a tall and handsome male figure with red hair and a beard. In other depictions, he is described as being a more feminine or androgynous character, with long and straight red hair, along with smooth and pale skin.

Personality: Loki is a clever and devious character, known for his ability to manipulate and deceive others with his cunning and wit. He is also known for his unpredictable nature, his tendency to get himself into trouble, and his proclivity for causing chaos and disorder. He is often seen as a trickster and a troublemaker, who enjoys creating disruption and chaos.

Symbols: serpents, wolves, ax, raven, masks, fire, Bjarken and Logr Runes, fishing nets, earthquakes, infinity snake and ouroboros, number 8, chaos star, runes that spell out his name: Laguz, Othala, Kenaz, Isa as well as the rune Hagalaz, and Helmet of Dread or the Helmet of Horror

God of: mischief, trickery, and fire

Culture: Norse and Germanic

Plants and trees: mistletoe, birch, common Haircap moss (Loki’s Oats), bentgrass (Loki’s Grass), cinnamon, dandelion, beech, blackthorn, elder, elm, ivy, juniper, mullein, thistle, mint, holly, cedar, juniper, elder, clove, patchouli, tobacco, willow, and yew

Crystals: jade, obsidian, sapphire, amethyst, garnet, citrine, black tourmaline, serpentine, carnelian, fire opal, black onyx, cat’s eye, xenotime, chrysoberyl, and labradorite

Animals: salmon, birds (crows, ravens, falcon, and vultures), flies, goats, flea, horses, wolves, serpents, foxes, spiders, and wasps

Incense: dragon's blood, frankincense, myrrh, patchouli, basil, cinnamon, pine, wild berry, rum incense, and anything sweet and musky

Colours: green, gold, black, violet, yellow, orange, and red

Numbers: 4, 8, and 13

Zodiac: Gemini

Tarot: The Fool, The Tower, The Devil, The Wheel of Fortune, Page of Cups, and Seven of Swords

Planets: Mercury and Venus

Days: Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, Lokablót, April Fool’s Day, Yule, Mabon, Samhain, Friday the 13th, the 13th of each month, and Lokabrenna Day

Parents: Fárbauti and Laufey

Siblings: Odin (blood brother), Helblindi, and Býleistr

Partners: Angrboda, Sigyn, and Glut

Children: Fenrir, Jörmungandr, Hel, Váli, Narfi, and Sleipnir (Odin’s horse)

MISC:

• Fire: Wagner combined Loki with Logi, the fire god, in his Ring Cycle. And ever since, Loki has been associated with fire and magic in pop culture. There are some very iffy pieces of evidence that Loki might have had some historical connection with fire (e.g., the Snaptun stone and medieval folklore about the Ash Lad) but the scholarly consensus is “Nope, blame Wagner.” That said, fire, with its dual roles of creation and destruction, enlightenment and passion, is a pretty potent symbol for Loki even if it doesn’t have a historical basis.

• Red hair: Loki’s hair colour is never mentioned in the lore, and there are some illuminated Icelandic manuscripts in which he is shown as a blond or brunette. The fire god mistake mentioned above probably popularized the redhead image. (Interestingly, Thor is canonically a redhead.)

• Fishing Nets: in Gylfaginning, Loki weaves a fishing net while on the lam and hiding from the Aesir. (The story kind of implies it’s the first fishing net, although Ran is also credited with inventing them elsewhere.) Loki turns into a salmon to escape but ends up being caught with his own creation,

• Earthquakes: the prose epilogue to Lokasenna claims that earthquakes are caused by Loki writhing in pain when Sigyn leaves to empty her venom-catching bowl.

• Masks: while Odin, not Loki, takes the name of Grímnir (the masked one) in the lore, masks are a fairly logical thing to associate with a shapeshifter.

FACTS ABOUT LOKI:

• Name: Loki is named after the Norse word "loki," which means "mischief maker" or "trickster."

• Role: in Norse mythology, Loki is known as a chaotic and mischievous figure who frequently causes problems for the God’s.

• Relationships: the son of the frost giant Fárbauti and the giantess Farbauti, and is the brother of the Goddess Hel.

• Origin: he is a Jötunn or giant who is the son of the Jötunn Fárbauti, which means "dangerous strike."

• Associations: Loki is connected to the realms of chaos and trickery and is often seen as a troublemaker and instigator of conflict.

• Connection to Thor: he is the half-brother of Thor, and has several encounters with the god of thunder. In one famous example, Loki tries to trick Thor into drinking a powerful liquor called "Módrunar," which causes him to become extremely drunk.

• Powers: he is a powerful deity with a wide range of abilities, including shapeshifting, sorcery, illusions, and knowledge.

• Association with Trickery: Loki is closely associated with the concept of trickery, often utilizing his skills as a master manipulator to cause trouble for the God’s.

HOW TO INVOKE LOKI:

The best way to work with Loki is to respectfully is to approach him with sincere devotion and reverence. He is a God of mischief and chaos, so a certain level of humor is appropriate when working with him, but that doesn't mean you should take him lightly or treat his power with disrespect. To worship him respectfully, make an offering, either something tangible or a gesture like writing a poem or performing an act of mischief and chaos in his name. Be genuine and open in your intention, and don't be afraid to get a little mischievous yourself.

Some ways to works with Loki include:

• Doing things that embody his energy and traits, such as pranks or mischief

• Making offerings to him, whether physical or spiritual

• Creating a dedicated altar space

• Studying and researching Norse mythology, particularly his role in it

• Performing rituals and spell casting to seek his guidance and insight

• Meditating on his energy and listening for a response

• Performing acts of chaos and destruction

• Seeking to gain his protection through protection magic or rituals

PRAYER FOR LOKI:

"Great God Loki, bringer of chaos and master of deceit, I come to you seeking guidance and destruction. I offer my heart and spirit and ask for your blessing in this pray.”

"Thank you, Great God Loki, for listening to my words and walking by my side on this journey. I leave this altar/ritual space in your hands, and I ask for your protection and mischief wherever I may go. Hail Loki.”

SIGNS THAT LOKI IS CALLING YOU:

• Feeling a strong attraction or draw to his energy or presence

• Having repeating thoughts or dreams about him

• Feeling drawn to chaos or chaos magic

• You’ll start seeing his name everywhere – in books, on TV, online, etc.

• There might be a sudden change in your life, an unexpected sometimes painful change

• It will seem someone is playing tricks on you, particularly when it comes to your spiritual spaces like your altar

• Be wary of fires that are started in random places

• You might see his symbols or signs everywhere you go including the snake, spider, runes like Hagalaz and Isa, the Chaos star, number 8 or Ouroboros

• The TV show Loki or Marvel character might start popping up everywhere (yes I believe Loki communicates through this guise because it’s a form we know and understand)

• You might already have a connection with Odin, Loki’s brother

• Spiderwebs will appear in your space – in the home, workplace, or vehicle

• Loki’s sacred animals will appear as signs to you including the horse, fly, spider, snake, salmon, vulture, wolf, fox, etc.

• Experiencing signs of change or transformation in your life

• Feeling a sense of rebelliousness or mischief within you

• A sense of giddiness, playfulness, and light-heartedness after praying to him or meditating on his energy.

• Feeling of warmth or presence in the air around you.

• An increased sense of creativity, spontaneity, and a general desire to explore and experiment.

• Feeling a connection with nature or animals in a new or stronger way than before.

• Experiencing unusual or unexpected occurrences that seem a bit too strange to be coincidental.

OFFERINGS:

• Candles, especially black ones.

• * Incense: cinnamon, dragons blood, pine, wild berry, rum incense, and anything sweet smelling, musky, or a mysterious scent would be appropriate.

• Red flowers.

• Crystals, gems, or metals.

• Herbs: dill, ginger, mugwort, cinnamon, peppermint, mint, pepper, sorrel, vanilla, cinnamon, coriander, allspice, comfrey, nutmeg, heather, marjoram, clary sage, and lemon balm.

• Art or poetry.

• Toys, such as the ones you used to play with as a kid.

• Acts of chaos, subversion, or mischief.

• Flowers: daisies, roses, and lilies.

• Hanging mistletoe at Yuletide.

• Foods and drinks: sweet foods (mochi, pixie sticks, cake, chocolate with nuts or funny names, pastries, candy, etc), alcohol, spicy rum, mulled wine, coffee or other caffeinated/energy beverages, honey, and red fruits.

• Knives and daggers.

• Doing something you’re scared of (safely).

• Cinnamon.

• Lunar moth artwork/taxidermy.

• Cool leaves you find.

• Burn things (safely) in dedication to Him.

DEVOTIONAL ACTS:

• Challenge authority figures and shake things up

• Break rules and defy expectations

• Live a life of surprises and twists

• Explore your trickster side and have some fun with your mischief

• Embrace the shadow-self

• Let your inner child out (if not heal them first)

• Don’t take yourself too seriously.

• Be the devil’s advocate.

• Speak the truth and uphold it. This also involves speaking your mind about politics and issues.

• Express yourself.

• Indulge in art or create art. (Loki loves it when people dive deeply into their creative fire. He also rewards them for it)

• Live life to the fullest.

• Light a candle for him the moment you wake up and during bedtime. (I personally found out that he likes red and green candle but if those are not available, white can suffice).

• Burn some incense (cinnamon, sandalwood and dragon’s blood are some of Loki’s favorites but if he tells you otherwise, it’s okay).

• Stop planning and just be in the moment.

• Embrace chaos (and make it your bitch, as Loki would say).

• Cultivate a sense of mystery and playfulness.

• Be unpredictable and keep your friends on their toes.

• Push your boundaries and experiment with your boundaries.

• Break the norm and be yourself.

• Adopt a prickly succulent baby or an abandoned animal. If you can’t adopt, volunteer in shelters or be a foster paw-rent.

• Collect toys that you will both enjoy.

• Play board or video games.

• Cook meals and eat with him (cook whatever meal catches your fancy and then eat at his altar).

• Hoard jokes, puns and memes (VERY IMPORTANT! Loki loves his humour but in good taste. He seems to dislike and would often refute humor made in bad taste like triggering and racist jokes).

• Give without expecting anything in return.

• Share laughter with loved ones.

• Light a candle in his honour.

• Be kind to those are are outcasted.

• Wear a piece of jewelry that reminds you of him.

• Doodle.

• Watch a fiery sunset.

• Draw him and/or write to him.

• Smiling.

#fyp #fypシ #fypシ゚viral #fypage #fyppage #tumblr fyp #satanism #satanist #deity #deity work #deity worship #occult #norse mythology #germanic #loki #trickster #god #information #masterlist

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lordgodjehovahsway · 1 year ago

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Leviticus 11: God Explains To Moses And Aaron Which Foods Are Clean And Unclean For The Israelites To Eat

1 The Lord said to Moses and Aaron,

2 “Say to the Israelites: ‘Of all the animals that live on land, these are the ones you may eat:

3 You may eat any animal that has a divided hoof and that chews the cud.

4 “‘There are some that only chew the cud or only have a divided hoof, but you must not eat them. The camel, though it chews the cud, does not have a divided hoof; it is ceremonially unclean for you.

5 The hyrax, though it chews the cud, does not have a divided hoof; it is unclean for you.

6 The rabbit, though it chews the cud, does not have a divided hoof; it is unclean for you.

7 And the pig, though it has a divided hoof, does not chew the cud; it is unclean for you.

8 You must not eat their meat or touch their carcasses; they are unclean for you.

9 “‘Of all the creatures living in the water of the seas and the streams you may eat any that have fins and scales.

10 But all creatures in the seas or streams that do not have fins and scales—whether among all the swarming things or among all the other living creatures in the water—you are to regard as unclean.

11 And since you are to regard them as unclean, you must not eat their meat; you must regard their carcasses as unclean.

12 Anything living in the water that does not have fins and scales is to be regarded as unclean by you.

13 “‘These are the birds you are to regard as unclean and not eat because they are unclean: the eagle, the vulture, the black vulture,

14 the red kite, any kind of black kite,

15 any kind of raven,

16 the horned owl, the screech owl, the gull, any kind of hawk,

17 the little owl, the cormorant, the great owl,

18 the white owl, the desert owl, the osprey,

19 the stork, any kind of heron, the hoopoe and the bat.

20 “‘All flying insects that walk on all fours are to be regarded as unclean by you.

21 There are, however, some flying insects that walk on all fours that you may eat: those that have jointed legs for hopping on the ground.

22 Of these you may eat any kind of locust, katydid, cricket or grasshopper.

23 But all other flying insects that have four legs you are to regard as unclean.

24 “‘You will make yourselves unclean by these; whoever touches their carcasses will be unclean till evening.

25 Whoever picks up one of their carcasses must wash their clothes, and they will be unclean till evening.

26 “‘Every animal that does not have a divided hoof or that does not chew the cud is unclean for you; whoever touches the carcass of any of them will be unclean.

27 Of all the animals that walk on all fours, those that walk on their paws are unclean for you; whoever touches their carcasses will be unclean till evening.

28 Anyone who picks up their carcasses must wash their clothes, and they will be unclean till evening. These animals are unclean for you.

29 “‘Of the animals that move along the ground, these are unclean for you: the weasel, the rat, any kind of great lizard,

30 the gecko, the monitor lizard, the wall lizard, the skink and the chameleon.

31 Of all those that move along the ground, these are unclean for you. Whoever touches them when they are dead will be unclean till evening.

32 When one of them dies and falls on something, that article, whatever its use, will be unclean, whether it is made of wood, cloth, hide or sackcloth. Put it in water; it will be unclean till evening, and then it will be clean.

33 If one of them falls into a clay pot, everything in it will be unclean, and you must break the pot.

34 Any food you are allowed to eat that has come into contact with water from any such pot is unclean, and any liquid that is drunk from such a pot is unclean.

35 Anything that one of their carcasses falls on becomes unclean; an oven or cooking pot must be broken up. They are unclean, and you are to regard them as unclean.

36 A spring, however, or a cistern for collecting water remains clean, but anyone who touches one of these carcasses is unclean.

37 If a carcass falls on any seeds that are to be planted, they remain clean.

38 But if water has been put on the seed and a carcass falls on it, it is unclean for you.

39 “‘If an animal that you are allowed to eat dies, anyone who touches its carcass will be unclean till evening.

40 Anyone who eats some of its carcass must wash their clothes, and they will be unclean till evening. Anyone who picks up the carcass must wash their clothes, and they will be unclean till evening.

41 “‘Every creature that moves along the ground is to be regarded as unclean; it is not to be eaten.

42 You are not to eat any creature that moves along the ground, whether it moves on its belly or walks on all fours or on many feet; it is unclean.

43 Do not defile yourselves by any of these creatures. Do not make yourselves unclean by means of them or be made unclean by them.

44 I am the Lord your God; consecrate yourselves and be holy, because I am holy. Do not make yourselves unclean by any creature that moves along the ground.

45 I am the Lord, who brought you up out of Egypt to be your God; therefore be holy, because I am holy.

46 “‘These are the regulations concerning animals, birds, every living thing that moves about in the water and every creature that moves along the ground.

47 You must distinguish between the unclean and the clean, between living creatures that may be eaten and those that may not be eaten.’”

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the-firebird69 · 1 year ago

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Starcraft 2: Legacy of the Void ► ALL IN-GAME CINEMATICS [HD]

YouTube · xLetalis

Nov 14, 2015

youtube

It says that Artemis sounds like Tom Cruise and he does and we say it's not him and a sudden doesn't know what mutant would be he thinks bats have more fingers and they do and we looked at it and said that we think he is possibly one of these angels this witness to Tommy f and vowed to destroy them and that's who they're fighting and that is who they are and kerrigan is known entity for being a human and she's possessed and they understand It is by a Zherg and they consider them to be animals. And they begin pursuing Tommy f and his recently last week and he saw that they were getting pummeled and top side the going after a lot of them and with their wings on it's been millennium since they were able to and they're grabbing them and they think that it's the vulture technology and things like that and it's not and take several of them to fly off with someone but that's what they're doing and Lucifer is too and that is azog and he is not comfortable with the name but it's his and he's cruising around looking for them no they're picking them up in a structured way and finding out they have a backup plan and tons of troops on hand and surprisingly enough underneath the max who are now under full blown attack by clones at their factories and they have bases there to deserts and their bases are now on your siege because of their large scale tax on the clone facilities in the deserts. And they are hitting them pretty fiercely and some say cut them in half already but they're just closed a lot of them are trained and they are shutting them down everyone in the earth is searching for these guys for the remainder and finding out that they're retreating to their ships and that's where they are and the robots are going to cover their retreat the ships are not ready to launch they don't have engines that's what some people say others say we have schematics and drawings and all the fixings for engines in these caverns and lay down areas because evidence that they are building them and more than one of them is ready a war is on and it is very big and very intense and it is here too in Charlotte county and the morllock are part of it but boy they are small and beat up and useless. And there are others who are not very big here too this is weird that they are able to hide here but it does make sense that our son would keep them around and they have to start learning that it's very obnoxious what they're saying and does not keep them around the max have their hands full. Right now I'm massive attack is underway and yeah our son can't get the question stupid thing off there we can't take it off either if you put it up in such a nuisance he's just going to copy it now he says. good he got it done I hate this program it's so stupid. It's created by one of these idiots is it okay though they get it up using that crap they always ask questions and people cuz they don't know the answers they wanted to know what controls the Zherg. Some say Artemis some say Sarah kerrigan and they're both fighting them so obviously they're not controlling them and you see a big beast it looks like an elephant and our son says that's an Indian demon which is not controlling the minor he thinks it's Gilgamesh and a lot of people do and that's what he looks like and the other one he named it's like baba mesh that's his wife and Goddess wife controls it. And they're all sorts of other hints and suggestions as to who's running them and this is a different version and it's really our son and daughter so people say but ultimately it appears that they are controlling themselves.

The max have their hands full with the clones. They are getting hit very hard and they had probably 10% of the populace as of last night and this morning I dropped to 8% and they are losing people rapidly because they're on the basis and they're losing their basis and they are losing their manufacturing of The shield bases and saucer factories. And yes it smells like s*** everywhere the water is coming back in but it's stirring it up but it will cover up the edges and it's going to clean it somewhat a little bit in salt water and about a foot came out because it left rapidly and the canals are different it's settling onto the bottom because of depressurized and it's compacting doesn't mean it won't leave it means it's just doing that and it's washing off the sides and after a few rains it will flow out because it's shallower and that's why I'm basically at the mouth it's very much blown out all that stuff so it's going to slowly go up the canal probably a month but it'll stink a little not much though not like tonight and it's probably going to be a foot and a half of compress it's probably half that it's just going to keep on doing it until it's clear

We think that the max are going to be a minority shortly they're moving their fleets into position and they are attacking the clones the clones are using tunnels however but they are going to collapse part no infiltrate lots of tunnels with ships and it'll be a real war and the max we're going to be overrun and it's because they are all heavily armed and trained and there are more of them shortly they'll see that they have ships under there too it's going to be a massive conflict I think both sides lose people find out that they have withdrawn to the ships and are trying to fit them out as fast as possible pretty soon they're going to run several plans to remove the ship up north it's a freeze out to remove the ship in the midwest is the Oblivion movie and it is devastating the max and they will attempt to move our son to Utah and that will be the clones. And he's doing a skit and Stewie terrific she wants him to look normal or something anything she says but this fat poor guy suffering for our people it's terrible. We do anticipate that they will both incur heavy losses we also feel that these are strike will occur shortly because of that feeling that they're both weak they will attack each of their facilities not just one and we did talk to zigzag and we understand why and where offering a lot of support in that we have our battle groups forming up. Is going to be a war against the max they're attempting to kidnap our son in Earnest now

Thor Freya

You need to protect him and really badly. There's a lot of acts around and we need assistance

Hera

Zues

I'm sending it a whole bunch of infiltrators now and I'm going to file a report immediately

Nuada Arrianna

The movie out and we see what we need we're sending the report now and a lot of us are and they're the quick one and it says why don't we compile it from our cadre and I'm going to put on top say it shortly actually the computer does it

Frank Castle Hardcastle

It's racist compiling it and he's right it's too voluminous and the backup is there Thor Freya have it and they see it and it is not good all our analysis points towards the max freaking out right now and we have to stop them cold we're getting it back with recommendations and his kids are at us asking what they need to do and good

He sold them calls us they say only when he's in trouble or when there's a major action and here it is and we get why and he gets it now and she does too

That was Savage opress and we're moving out right now and we appreciates it says I'm going to get a brand new Cadillac it's an operator that's terrific I do use those

Look a little odd like John Cena

Duke Nukem blockbusters

We're moving now very fast we have a lot of troops coming in we are ordering more and we do need volunteers too there's a major major move against Max and who have been our oppressor for thousands of years the whole time actually and they were and are the worst

Olympus

We hear it and we're moving out and we're getting troops together to obliterate them and use the opportunity

Gu Oya and Isis and God husband

We have a lot of stuff going on but we are forming up to attack and we need to tell the max that they deserve this and they should have shut up when they had the chance and idiotic blithering has gotten rid of tons of them

Uriel and Goddess Wife

We've waited for this a long time too and I can't believe it's actually happening. These people deserve it so badly they abused society and humanity and abuse their power for thousands of years he's typing them each type of them and in the end they turn into cackling jackasses trying to blow things up well I've had enough of this they're done

Apollo and Goddess Wife

We all want to say something and he says we probably should I've had enough of these Max the reign of terror on Earth is ending

Raphael and Goddess Wife

We don't want them around don't need them in this idiot cackling and yapping crap is not needed but it sure got rid of them because it's so damned annoying I'm going to continue to get rid of them and what a bunch of losers

Position and Goddess Wife we noted that they don't have real inventors and they still keep plowing through our son's life and messing with every aspect of it and they're ridiculous credit cards teensy income and he's telling them they're not human they're so dumb and they sort of can't figure it out they say I said you're stupid for you either will and Bill are not going to work for you either cuz you don't do anything but attack their race what a bunch of candy ass losers and a sense of the last line and that's how he talks but we say is you lost sight of everything that you've ever wanted to do and now you're not going to do anything because you're all going to be dead like you should be

We have something to say too we want you all gone Max and this is our opportunity and we have to take that opportunity now we're going to send this out there's more people that want to speak but we want ours to hear it

Lobo and proxima midnight

I want to see something that this is mild my comparison to what they're going to actually be saying but it's mild because it's on my website and they don't publicize it to the max but I want you to listen to your leaders my people we want you to hear them I want no impression from these Max but the same here is true and accurate what they're saying here is truly inaccurate but what they'll say about them without them hearing is much more potent

Zues Hera

It's true we're not all speaking and we're not all saying how it is but we will now to ours we need to grab this opportunity by both hands and feet and anything else we can it's urgent we need to stop them from doing what they're doing they want to destroy everything it seems and then that's really what they're trying to have the ability to stop most of what they have started and we have to quash it as well as erase them

Thor Freya

Olympus you're a fool by Marsh and the rest of your fools you sat on his motorcycle and you're f****** around with him I heard our son say Don't look down and you start getting nervous and you said why and since your time is up and harassing me like I'm a nobody and it turns around and he's asking him and he's not answering all sudden Tommy said I think I'll figure it out for that I'm probably not and he didn't and it was about a week ago and Sitting there straining. And yes they're sitting there abusing people asking for stuff and not saying what to solve this problem sometimes not even presenting the problem and it's ridiculous we have a bunch of screaming babies and you're going away right now these are huge attacks by the clones massive massive attacks on their bases and on their factories above them and on every aspect of what they're doing they're getting completely obliterated we think that the max will be cut in half in just a few hours and more than that in a few more there are about 8% of the global population we think they're going to be down to 5% by noon and about 4% by the evening and tonight it's going to be worse than Zherg will strike because they're going to be hot and trying to do things to people and we're prepping several genre

#Youtube

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wowieweirdwarlock · 1 year ago

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Best Bosses: Animal Lords

Source: Bestiary 3, Creature Codex, Tome of beasts 2-3.

Image source: Bestiary 3

“While humanoids have vast pantheons and divine figures of every stripe, the animals of the world have much simpler forms of faith.”

Among the species of animals across the multiverse, there are paragons of their species that represent animals’ interests in the grand scheme of things. These semi-divine beings are known as Animal Lords, each embodying the spirit of a given species of animal, and are tasked with protecting their species.

Council of Animals. There are many different Animal Lords, each chosen by their species to protect their interests out in the multiverse. As long as a species lives, their Animal Lord will constantly resurrect and reappear in order to defend them, and Animal Lords are empowered by the spirits of the animals they defend. Animal Lords work together to protect their charges, and view eachother as allies with a shared cause.

Obscure Communication. Animal Lords know the whims of their charges innately, and are capable of communicating with any animal of their species. In addition to communicating with those they defend, Animal Lords possess powers that enable them to aid in their mission. Some Lords bear magical abilities, some are menacing warriors with bestial traits, and others have more unique powers drawn from the natural world.

Neutral Parties. Animal Lords are only concerned with the protection and survival of their species; They do not concern themselves with matters of good or evil. They will deal with celestials and fiends alike, trading information and powerful favors in exchange for the defense of their chosen animals. Animal Lords will even bless mortal champions with magical gifts and equipment, in exchange for their service in aiding the Lord.

Great Divide. While the Animal Lords do know one another and will not outright attack eachother, they are individuals and prioritize their own species. One great argument among their kind, one that has raged among them for as long as they have existed, is the role of humanoids in the animal kingdom.

Some of the most well-known Animal Lords are:

The Bat King, a shrewd and reclusive leader who works in the shadows. He fights endlessly against the demon lord Camazotz, and any other beings who would turn his children against nature.

Brother Ox is a meditative and peaceful giant, who resides in a stone monastery high up in the mountains. He doesn’t allow many visitors, but those he chooses to let live with him always leave with wisdom beyond their years.

The Lord of Vultures originated as a god-child gifted with beautiful wings. He was chosen by nature to defend all raptors, especially vultures, and to ensure the proper treatment of their prey.

The Mouse King and his following can be found in nearly any city or large population. He thrives on secrets and gossip, and his host of tiny servants are eager to bring him juicy morsels of food and information.

The Queen of Birds perched high above the world in a nest the size of a city, keeping her keen eyes trained on the skies below. She is ever-eager to aim her powerful spear downwards at any who endanger nature.

The Queen of Cats is a playful animal lord, taking a more humanoid shape when she appears. She can pop up anywhere, and generally does as she pleases, using her cushioned lair as a vast network to connect to many places across the multiverse.

The Queen of Serpents resides in the desert, in a small fortress surrounded by her serpentine children. She is gifted with powerful foresight, and often hides her nature to appear as nothing more than a soothsayer wandering the desert.

The Queen of Mammoths is a powerful warrior from the north, leading her charges into battle against any who will fight them. She is a master of war, and often rewards mortals with strange gifts that aid them in battle.

The Scorpion Queen has been ostracized by the other Lords, due to her selfishness and cunning. She is a connoisseur of poisons and venoms, and will sell her services as an assassin out to the highest bidder.

The Toad King is obsessed with stories and fairy-tales. He is convinced that if he can get the right mortal to go on the right quest for him, he will ascend into a more powerful form. In the meantime, he convinces adventurers that he is really a prince trapped as a toad, looking for aid.

I love animals as much as the next Eldritch being, but the Animal Lords take it to another level entirely.

These demigods devote their entire natures and existences to the preservation of specific animals, and have rather potent powers they use to this end.

They are capable of shapeshifting into the form of different species they watch over, and can communicate with their charges mentally. They are also virtually immortal, for whenever an Animal Lord is killed, they simply inhabit the body of one of their charges.

In the grand scheme of things, Animal Lords do not care for the struggles of good and evil, or chaos and order. They simply regard nature as the most important force in existence.

And, as far as the Animal Lords are concerned, nature does not care whatsoever about you or me.

- A Weird Warlock.

#wowieweirdwarlock #pathfinder #ttrpg #d&d #dnd #d&d monster #pathfinder lore #www: best bosses #animal #animal lords

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thebibliomancer · 7 years ago

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Essential Avengers: Avengers #119: Night of the Collector

January, 1974

Oh gee, I wonder who the mystery villain this time is going to be?

Bonus points for the Collector using high tech pins to literally pin up the Avengers like they were insects. Although he was nice enough not to stick the pins through their flesh parts.

A villain did that to Hank Pym once. It was not pleasant.

We start off our issue with the Avengers having to bum a ride from SHIELD since they hitched a teleport from Dr. Strange to the Los Angeles battle. Along for the ride is Loki, ‘mind-drained’ as a result of having Dormammu blasted right through his brain in the penultimate issue of the Avengers/Defenders War.

There’s some casual conversation that serves to keep some plot points active. Cap reassures Vision that anyone can freeze up in a moment of danger like Vision did with the quicksand. Mantis worries about Swordsman’s wounds but he says he just feels a little weak. Iron Man privately hopes Scarlet Witch isn’t still on her anti-human kick after how she blew off Nick Fury’s thanks.

And there’s immediately an action scene as the Avengers accidentally set off their own defenses like idiots. I guess because the SHIELD jets were not recognized?

Everyone except Black Panther gets pinned down or blasted in some way. Black Panther manages to make his way to the door and activate the security panel and deactivate it.

Wanda is still in some mood so she criticizes Thor for how easily he was blasted, saying he’s no better than a human.

But since they’ve all just been through a stressful situation, Cap advises to just let it go.

Thor isn’t really that concerned since he has other things on his mind. Like what to do with Loki. Well, he’s gonna keep him.

Can’t return him to Asgard. Odin banished him. And I guess he won’t change his mind just because of a little Dormammu-brain-blasting. But in his childlike state, he can’t just be left to wander free. So Thor is going to confine Loki to a special top-security chamber. But he’s going to get Jarvis to make sure its a comfortable top-security chamber.

Gee! Thor as Loki’s keeper sure is going to change things around here.

Meanwhile, Black Panther pulls Mantis to the side to speak with her on a little one on one. But its nothing serious. Its just... well, nobody knows anything about Mantis’ background and that is a potentially interesting subject to the young absentee king.

During his studies, he was mostly interested in what Western technology could do for his people and never had time to study Eastern philosophies.

According to Black Panther or rather Steve Englehart speaking through Black Panther, Africa is neither Eastern nor Western but as an emerging continent able to profit from the knowledge of both.

So he just wants to know where Mantis studied and what she studied. Stuff like that.

She dismisses her story as an uninteresting recital and slips into some I’s. “As I have said, I am nothing to speak of.”

An answer that a caption highlights as evasive.

But no time to probe deeper. The plot is calling!

Mantis goes into a trance and gets a premonition of sorts that there’s.... danger! In Rutland! Tonight! Halloween!

Oh Rutland. You’re always with the danger on Halloween.

But also, Rutland is where Loki and Dormammu met. It could be connected!

Luckily, Iron Man and Vision had already finished taping a report on the ‘why everything went to hell for about an hour’ crisis for the news networks.

So off the Avengers go, to that most insidious hive of black magic and evil forces. RUTLAND, VERMONT!

And Jarvis watches them go in dismay. He had just finished cooking them a celebratory banquet with individualized dishes for everyone. And now they’re probably just going to stop at McDonald’s on the way.

Poor Jarvis. The forces of evil and sometimes the Avengers just don’t appreciate the work he puts in (Dude is really an unsung hero).

Anyways, Rutland! Its where the Rutland Halloween Parade takes place. Remember it? I talked about it before? It was a famous event organized by real life guy Tom Fagan? It appears in comics frequently and was home to one of the first unofficial crossovers between Marvel and DC?

Rutland!

The Avengers arrive and are greeted by Tom Fagan (dressed as Nighthawk in a little goof that he always dressed as Batman in the real life parade). He wonders if they’re here to join the fourteen annual Halloween Parade.

Scarlet Witch and Vision beg off. There’s danger here and they can find it more easily by themselves.

Swordsman and Mantis beg off too. Mantis doesn’t like the limelight and Swordsman gets itchy when there’s trouble afoot. But they might stop by the party at Fagan’s house afterward.

To that, Tom Fagan smiles deviously and thinks to himself that they have all walked into his most deadly trap! The caption box gets a bit panicked at its old buddy being so sinister.

You and me both, caption box. You and me both.

Thor, Cap, Iron Man, and Black Panther can’t think of an excuse to duck out. Or probably more likely, they love to help out and stand on a thing and wave at crowds. And that’s what they do for the next two hours.

Plus, they had also hoped that a public appearance in the parade would draw out the phantom menace. Which. I mean. Don’t use a parade as bait, you guys. So many bystanders. I shouldn’t have to tell you this.

With the parade over and the townspeople gone, Tom Fagan suddenly turns on the heroes! Just like foreshadowed in that panel on the previous page!

He throws down some pellets which grow into living animal hides that attack the Avengers!

Ostensibly the legendary coats of Hercules (‘from which no truly mortal being can break free!’). The animal hides wrap around the four Avengers and pin them down in what must be a snug, cozy embrace. They work a lot like constrictor snakes apparently. Tightening whenever they Avengers take a breath.

Hmm... who do we know that likes to use crap from mythology as a weapon?

Is Tom Fagan really Hercules in disguise?

No, that would be silly. Although, having the actual Hercules as a recurring character does kind of make it a bit weird to be busting out his wardrobe.

Tom Fagan is really and astoundingly the Collector in disguise!

He’s on the cover. And he’s the one that likes to use mythological crap as a weapon. It was not a hard conclusion to draw.

He was using the tendency for superheroes to show up in Rutland for Halloween to his advantage. Really, he just wanted to capture any superhero to use as a lure for the Avengers but having the Avengers themselves show up just simplifies the plan really.

But once again I’ll curse flawless latex masks. They should turn everyone in the Marvel universe into helpless trembling balls of paranoia.

Kinda impressed that the Collector could fit his dumb outfit under a skintight disguise.

We cut to the Collector already having the four Avengers pinned up in his trophy case. Yes, like on the cover.

And since he failed to get the Avengers twice before, he’s been preparing a long time for this. He acquired Tom Fagan’s old house in Spring and has been modifying it since.

Like most villains, the Collector loves talking to himself.

He explains to the unconscious Avengers that he has spent his lifetime secretly collecting the greatest prizes throughout space and his interstellar ship stores the best objects of all possible worlds.

But apparently what he really needs to highlight his collection is the Avengers. And he’s not picky. He’ll just take the current roster. Which does mean he’s missing four Avengers before he possesses the crowning trophies of his triumphant career.

But enough of that nerd and his shifting motivations (later it will turn out that he wanted the Avengers for a specific task and not just because they’d look neat on his mantle but y’know what they would look neat on his mantle).

We have to meanwhile over to see what Scarlet Witch and Vision are up to. And they are being accosted by fans who want them to sign shit. And Wanda is fed up to here with being harassed so she blasts them away. Probably non-lethally.

Swordsman decides that outburst of violence is as good a time as any to give Wanda and Vision some alone time and skedaddle.

Alone, Wanda rants to Vision. Yes the way she handled the crowd was probably an overreaction but every human always overreacts to them. All she wants is the same rights humans get. But she feels she’s just treated as a thing. Loved as a hero, hated as a mutant. With nobody seeing her as a real being with real feels. She’s just sick of their bigotry.

She wishes that she and Vision could just find an island somewhere and escape the rat race.

Vision replies that running away never truly solves anything. And Wanda says that he doesn’t understand her very well. Humans have been trying to get rid of her all her life and now she’s ready to take them at their word and go. And she thought that Vision would feel the same way and want to come with.

CUTTING AWAY FROM THAT AWKARD, lets see what Swordsman and Mantis are up to. They spend a little time talking about Mantis’ team-up with T’Challa against Dr. Strange but what Swordsman really wants to talk about is them.

“Let’s talk about how much your concern and faith have meant to me in my new life -- how much I’ve come to rely on you, when I never relied on anyone before! I love you, Mantis!”

Awww.

She says she loves him too. And starts to say that all her life she has wanted a strong, heroic man when the smooching couple is interrupted by muffled groans.

Yup. Definitely muffled groans. Swordsman has spent enough time in dark places to know what a gagged person sounds like.

(Swordsman brings so much expertise to the table!)

And they find... the real Tom Fagan?! Just tied up and left in the woods. The Collector, that is no way to treat Tom Fagan.

Mantis cuts Tom loose while Swordsman calls over Vision and Scarlet Witch for a huddle.

Tom confirms that he wasn’t the Tom Fagan that welcomed them to the parade. Tom apologizes. By starting the parade that superheroes would hang out at, he accidentally created the perfect opportunity for a trap. Unfamiliar country, surrounded by people in costumes, superheroes known to chillax here. It was only a matter of time before a supervillain capitalized on it.

But Vision says Tom has done nothing wrong. He provided pleasure for thousands of adults and kids alike. But someone tried to pervert that pleasure for evil and Vision will not let that stand.

He takes Halloween parades very seriously. He practically ‘in the name of the moon’d’ that.

But he also has a plan.

We jump forward twenty minutes later as the Collector prepares his trap. His foolproof plan goes thusly: disguised as Tom Fagan, he invited the Avengers to his party, the Avengers don’t know that Tom moved houses during the past year and that the real party is elsewhere. So they’ll come to this trap house and get trapped.

And he has just the trap for them. Four birthstones that will produce half-mythical Vultures of Nepenthe! (How can something be half-mythical?) But anyway, their electrically-charged talons means that even Vision will fall before them.

And when someone knocks on the door, the Collector prepares to greet his prey...

Tom Fagan?! And a bunch of children? Possibly some drunk adults? What’s going on here?

Well, the party-goers decided to bring the party back to its origins.

And the Collector is immediately besieged by his secret weakness. SOCIAL SITUATIONS (hahaha right there with you buddy)!

Party-goers surround him and insist on shaking his hand and complimenting his costume and trying to share anecdotes with him and

Nope. Nope nope nope. The Collector can’t take it anymore. He flees into the back room.

“Now more than ever, I know why I chose the life of a Collector! It is a solitary life!”

Right there in the black and white. The Collector is an introvert.

He doesn’t want to waste his mint-in-box arsenal on party-goers so he decides he’ll just lock himself in with the trophies and wait until the other heroes arrive

Oh. Hey. Hi guys. Um. Kind of awkward.

Okay. Yeah. Realizing now this was all a diversion.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN COLLECT THE COLLECTOR, DO YOU?”

And he pulls out some infinite bat rocks and bangs them together to summon thousands of vampire bats.

The bats will destroy Rutland unless the heroes let the Collector escape. And just to make sure they don’t get any funny ideas about taking the stones from him, the Collector drops them down a secret shaft. Its all bendy so nobody can climb down it but also wired to explode if the Vision tries to pass through the walls. There’s another secret way to stop the bats but its known only to the Collector. Checkmate, idiots.

Mantis has a counter offer.

And just kicks him right in the face.

She’s been kicking a lot of old people recently.

Mantis tells the other Avengers to protect people from the bats while she climbs down the shaft.

Because. Total bodily control means she’s really flexible.

Meanwhile, Iron Man rewires part of his armor to create an ultra-sonic signal to blanket the area and confuse the bats echolocation and possibly somewhere Matt Murdock has the worst minute of his life. But the power drain is bad so Iron Man can’t keep it up for long.

Thankfully, Mantis has finished wriggling through the mystery tunnel and brings out the two bat stones.

She slams them together and the day is saved, all thanks to Mantis being super flexible.

Afterward, Tom Fagan thanks the Avengers and wonders if there’s anything other than a parade the town can do for them. And Thor does think of something.

So after less than one day of being Loki’s ward, Thor dumps him off on Tom Fagan and Rutland to take care of. Perhaps the life of an Avenger is too hectic for the brain-wiped Loki, perhaps the peaceful cool forests of the Northlands will be a better environment for him, or perhaps Thor just didn’t want to be his brother’s keeper.

Seriously. Thor just passes responsibility for his brother off to Tom Fagan.

Geez, Thor.

Overall though, I really liked this issue. This is one of my favorite appearance for the Collector. Dude doesn’t want to rule the world. Dude just wants the best stuff and the best stuff includes the Avengers.

Also he’s an introverted nerd who uses random mythological crap as his weapons. He’s always doing new stuff because his abilities are only limited to his collection and his collection is only limited by the imagination of the writers which is probably why his stuff tends to be from Earth.

I like this Collector better than when he has an ulterior motive for trying to collect the Avengers or when its revealed he’s an Elder of the Universe, a secretive cabal of old people engaging in weird schemes. I like him as this super old guy, probably an alien, who collects random deadly knickknacks.

I fear that if he tried to collect all the Avengers these days, he’d have a coronary. Almost everyone has been an Avenger at some point now.

#Avengers #the Collector #Tom Fagan #Mantis #Thor is a bad brother #Wanda is going through some stuff #the first time that social anxiety was used to defeat a supervillain #the Collector had kind of an animal theme this time #the animal hides the vultures and the bats #Essential Avengers #Essential marvel liveblogging #mantis really carried the team this issue for someone not technically on the team

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