#the animals they saved and the predators can be whoever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

collar-shocked · 8 months ago

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I wanna hear about those strade hc’s (if you haven’t done a post already)

//STRADE TIME?!?! YIPPEEEEEE!!! (obviously, some warnings for this one. gets kinda nasty at the end, kinda fine-line near the midway, etc. normal strade stuff.)

Strade is a monster hidden among the public. The keyword is hidden. He's a totally normal man outside of his home. While he's ending peoples lives, he's simultaneously saving peoples days, whether it be taking on a neighbors flickering porch light just for the challenge, or stopping on a grocery trip to get something off the top shelf for a shortie- he does what he wants. And sometimes, he wants to feel like a good person, too. It brings him a sense of power, knowing to some, he'll simply be a kind man who helped out once- and to others, he will be an unspeakable creature.

Strade is a very educated, calculated, smart man. But he isn't very intelligent. Keeping people in loose binds around mountains of sharp, dangerous tools isn't the smartest idea, but he's too proud to see anything wrong with it. His air alone usually keeps his victims in check, and therefor, he hasn't given himself an opportunity to see how this could be... Not very smart? It's worked so far, so he never changed his routine. Shouldn't have left the screwdriver down there, bud.

He never excuses his behavior. He knows exactly what he is and accepts it. Loves it, even. He never denies the animal he is. And though he never feels self-conscious about it, or carries regret and or remorse, or would ever, ever apologize- it still messes with his head sometimes, in other ways. Reminds him of his own mortality. Reinforces his ego. Oh, poor poor Strade, woe is he, why do these thoughts have to plague him?

Strade does what he wants, when he wants. This means he falls into the very rare phase of wanting to be better. Specifically, towards Ren. He's a good sport. Makes him happy. Sometimes Strade likes making him happy, too. There's no better praise to be had than from the one person who depends on you entirely. To hear he's good, to hear he's so generous, so kind, so beloved- the validation is always unmatched. Every good dog deserves a treat once in a while. His dog just so happens to enjoy those and'knee-may figurines. All the soft pets, warm cuddles, nice words, and vanilla sex only lasts for so long, however. He falls out of these phases quick- though, poor Ren has no idea when it'll happen. He is easily coaxed into traps because of this.

Strade would like to be a content creator someday. NO, not one wrapped up in his unusual hobby, he's already pretty popular in those spaces. But sometimes he wishes he could turn on that stream and just talk. Just have some normal company made up of people who get it to hangout with while getting some household chores done. He does sometimes feel used, the way his audience only wants him to get on with the gutting. Strade is just a man at the end of the day, and all men get lonely.

He doesn't see people any differently than they are. He's aware they're people. Not livestock, not an art project, not a soul to release, not something to dabble with- just people. He sees no spiritual potential in a specific person when he selects his next victim, it's just.. Whoever seems easiest. Whoever seems cute enough for an audience. Whoever looks most lost. With this veiled experience under his belt, he can easily spot a predator in public. And believe it or not- he does his best to come in between a potential danger and their victim of choice. He's protective of his work, but aside from that, he also likes being an asshole. He can read those intentions. He knows how delicious those kinds of evil games are. He loves being able to take that away. Loves being a beacon for a helpless little lamb, all because they're not his first choice.

Strade is considered a good, friendly neighbor! He gets along well with the people he lives next to, does a lot of favors, is nice to the kids running up and down the block- Offers to fix shit for free, offers rides if the distance is short enough, stops to chat when seeing a familiar face- the usual good-guy routine. But he never lets them close enough to know him. He's just a guy with a nice smile and good attitude. In a lot of his deeds, however, small hints and red flags are laced through his behavior, and venom can be found in his words. Putting your hand on a neighbors knee while they're in your car, at your mercy, is kind of a weird thing to do. He loves the way people are always slightly off-put, but since he's so nice, they'd rather be polite and take it.

Strade will often play up his accent in public as a minor safety net, had anyone ever call him out on something weird he said. Can always excuse it as just a slip of foreign tongue.

He makes up a different story for each time he's asked about the scar on his face.

His first few incidents occurred when he was still pretty young. He really did try desperately, at the time, to stray from these acts- but at some point he just accepted the fact that he's kind of weird, and he will keep hurting people. There's no point in beating himself up over it every single time. So now, his low moments are restricted to ending people he became particularly attached to. Note, he isn't sad their life was cut short, he's sad they're not around to play with anymore.

Only Ren could tell you how Strade sounds while singing. He has a lovely humming voice. A very silky, low tone with a bit of gruff as he occupies himself. Anything that's not humming is.. Well, he's having fun!

Strade has his morals in order, funnily enough. Again, he knows the monster he is- doesn't mean he can't be a decent person when being a person. He would absolutely punch a terf. He would also not hesitate to become one if he knew it bothered or distressed a victim, but that doesn't mean he means it. This rule applies for literally anything.

Strade's ego and pride is such a big part of him. However, despite it being rarer than rare, he can, and sometimes does feel shame. Shocker, I know. But had anyone, anyone, even his fox find out about his interest in Sounding, it would be over. He penetrates. He does not get penetrated. Makes him feel weak, and small. But he likes it, and lord knows he can't stop doing anything he likes. (Bonus: Ren knows. He's just afraid of what may happen if Strade knows he knows. He "cleans" the toy for him in his absence as a filter, instead of taking it up with him.)

//I THINK I GOT IT ALL OUT. THANK U, I HOPE U ENJOY.

#Headcanons'#HCs #Muse #Muse Notes

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yuliyaana · 2 years ago

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— THE ANIMATION AND ARTSTYLE USED FOR THE VISUALS

The amazing use of both 2D and 3D elements mixes perfectly with the animation and the art style and it really reminds me of the animation of Into the Spider-Verse. Everything’s an eye candy and wallpaper-worthy. The vibrant colors and the lighting?? The visuals and the background art, they're just so GORGEOUS! Like you can see those little paint brush strokes on some parts of the film. You know the movie’s gonna be good when they apply this kind of style. This movie is an absolute masterpiece. *chef’s kiss*

— THE WORLD BUILDING

OKAAAAY I WILL NEVER GET OVER WITH THE WORLD BUILDING ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY WENT TO THE DARK FOREST— it’s just so hilarious when Puss and Kitty got depressing and dangerous path/terrains while Perrito got the easiest path because he’s a carefree and cheerful pure-hearted therapy dog who sees the positivity in life (despite his sad “funny story” like he said) and it really shows that whoever possesses the Star Map judges the character of those who holds it.

— CHARACTER DESIGN

Can we talk about Goldilocks’ character design? I really, really love how they designed her— like every details of her design reflects the way she got raised by her bear family. You see those mismatched earrings? They resemble Mama Bears different earrings. Her necklaces? Baby Bear also got a chain necklace. And the faint scar she got on her left eyebrow later on? Now it resembles Papa Bear’s scar on his left eye. Okay I love this her golden blonde hair so much. It really fits her name ESPECIALLY her two huge buns resemble like bear ears! Her outfit got dirtied in the dark forest making it look brown, like her family's brown fur plus she got those little fangs omg. She's so cute but she can also kill you. TvT

Jack Horner, okay this chaotic huge man got pink hair and chubby cheeks. He’s got the perks alright? Hear me out, his pink tie resembles an icing piping cream pastry and he got those small printed pies on his purple vest. He BIG.

And finally, this big bad lobo himself and his name is DEATH, like literally. He’s the Grim Reaper of Shrek Universe. His design freaking SLAPS! Oh man, this brooding wolf deadass got the hardest drip for me ngl. The black poncho fits him perfectly for a grim reaper like him. The fact that his eyes always stand out making him look even more intimidating and menacing. We all know that the universal look of Grim Reaper is a skeleton in a long black cloak with his scythe while DreamWorks made Death as a wolf with his signature dual-sickles (likely as a reference for Grim Reaper’s Scythe), for me it’s an interesting detail because his main target was Puss in Boots coming to punish him for recklessly wasting away his past eight lives mainly because he’s a cat, and wolves are known for being a natural predator. Not to mention, he was always there whenever Puss dies. He was so patient enough to finally get to his prey. Another interesting detail of him is the dark part of his fur in his face, donning a skull-like shape because he’s literally the Grim Reaper. Overall, he’s 12/10 for me and my most favorite antagonist so far.

— THE LESSONS BEHIND PUSS IN BOOTS: THE LAST WISH

Sometimes whenever we wish for something that we want, we didn’t realize that thing we were wishing for was already there all along.

Puss himself already learnt his lesson to value his remaining ninth life at the end of the movie because every ounce of moment in our lives are precious and we need to appreciate them fully. We will never know when our time comes. As Perrito said to Puss, having one life in enough.

Sacrificing your personal needs to save someone you truly love and care about. Like how Goldilocks ditched the Wishing Map when she was one way of granting her wish and instead, she helped saving Baby from disappearing to the Star Wall.

...and they lived happily ever after.

#puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots 2 #puss in boots #puss in boots kitty softpaws #puss in boots perrito #puss in boots puss #puss in boots spoilers #puss in boots goldilocks #puss in boots jack horner #puss in boots death #the last wish #death wolf

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intothetlkverse · 2 months ago

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Decided to challenge myself by drawing every single TLK character out there, up until this point in time, and post it here. You can see the finished project on my main account, though I figured to post it on my tumblr just show I could proudly show off my work and a few of my head canons.

Finishing up with this project, here's every monster/ghoul/spirit/cryptid across TLK/G:

Being a world of animals with enough sapience to have memories, tell stories, and have beliefs, surely they must have their own mythos, cryptids, and monsters. So in the spirit of Halloween, here's taking every monster, ghoul, or bizarre creature across TLK and given a proper acknowledgement and description.

First off with the Zimwi, the name literally translating to 'ogre', 'ghost, or 'demon' in Swahili. One of the more widespread, notable monsters, described to be an enormous creature, as tall as two giraffes, a body is covered in long spikes, with eight legs that are each bigger than the last, and teeth sharper than a crocodile's. Mostly told as a boogeyman story to diurnal creatures in order to ensure that they stay sleeping safely with their families during the night, most likely this creature is an amalgamation of many nocturnal predators and creatures combined into one shadowy form. Some say it's a manifestation of all the fears and evils in the world, meant to haunt the living and steal their souls, other see it as a trickster, terrifying animals who are meant to be sleeping at this time and teaching them a harsh lesson in obeying your parents. Some believe they're the amalgamation of spirits who are unable to pass on and wander the earth, others say it is a real tangible being which eats naughty animals and causes sickness and disease upon whoever witness it. Some say they are the very first darkness, the progenitor of everything bad in existence, a primordial evil which stalks the earth. Whatever the theory, it is a malignant monster you must beware.

In a world where the Circle of Life is a common belief, there is also the notion of death outside the tangible, physical plain, of the spirits. When a creature dies, their spirits are taken back to the spiritual realm where the gods are. Good, neutral or even bad spirits may enter Juu(up), which essentially means their spirit is added into a sort of pool or melting pot of spirits, where things such as memories and identities are removed, and the spirit itself is combined with others in the energy before being taken out, made into a new soul, and reincarnated. The memories and identities are not completely erased, as they get turned into energy that goes into new traits, instinct, and occasionally lingering as past memories and warnings. Notable, good spirits, such as the Great Kings of the past or important figures are given a different path, to join the gods in their realm of Aljanna(paradise), to become things like stars to guide their species or descendants from up above. They are allowed to keep their memories and identities, and they can become guardians or legends for their species, guiding them from up above, though some, like Askari or Mufasa, are exceptions. Lions are considered to be the Great Spirits favorites, given he is a spirit of the moon and the Great Kings are his stars, and many of his descendants are rulers and stewards of the lands. In Mufasa's case, he was allowed to come down as a more prominent, physical form after death, to communicate with his son in order to save the balance of the Circle of Life from dying in the Pridelands. Normally divine communication is done via dreams or through natural phenomenon such as the breeze or clouds with no rain, which a shaman can then interpret, though given the severity of the issue in the Pridelands and the Great Spirits lineage in the Pridelands' rulers, as well as determining that Mufasa would be the best to intervene here, he was given this exception. As for bad spirits, for the truly evil ones, they get sent down to Chini(down). There they are forced into divine punishment, forced to relive painful moments from their own lives, shown the consequences of their actions by letting them see things from their victims perspectives, made to suffer as they did in death(i.e. death by fire=constant burning, drowning=always soaked and lungs full of water), etc. Predators and prey alike, carnivores and herbivores, young and old evil. Traitors, rapists, backstabbers, murderers, terrorists, abusers, anyone who left a dark stain in the Circle of Life finds themselves here. There is a sliver of hope, however. Those who are able to reflect on their crimes, take accountability for them, and plead for forgiveness may be taken out and allowed to go into the cosmic spirit pools of Juu to be reincarnated, hopefully into a better life, though those who remain stubborn and unapologetic stay there. And yes, this does include Scar and Zira, though until they've shown true remorse over their actions, they will be there for a long time. Some say that Chini resides underneath the earth, and that the evil, anger, and eternal punishment is what fuels the fiery magma which occasionally bubbles to the earth.

There is some belief though that not all spirits remain in those realms. Some say that through the vapors and smoke from volcanos, or the areas surrounding graves and final spots, the essences of spirits can linger and combine to form supernatural entities, typically ones which haunt the living. Ghosts, ghouls, zombies, malignant spirits possessing the living, garden-variety monsters, you name it. Of course here we're including the sadistic Werehog, zombie-like Mooks, and the legendary crocodile ghost Mambo Croc, all falling into the category of the terrible cryptids and entities you would not like to run into. Other ones, frightening but not as terrible, like the Mokele Mbembe, another large cryptid described as "smarter than the smartest elephant, stronger than the strongest hippo, and faster than the fastest cheetah", not as exclusive to the night as the Zimwi, and not as malicious. Often described as an elephant-sized quadruped with smooth skin like a hippo, a tail like a crocodile, a long neck like a giraffe, and a single tooth or horn like a rhino, it is graciously an herbivore, though still terrifyingly big and elusive. I decided to also do the narwhal thing with the 'horn/tooth' and make it a tusk, which by the way, in narwhals are actually a extended, specialized tooth on the left side of their jaws, that they use to help them sense their environments, as well as weapons for males to compete in the breeding season. I also gave them short spine spikes, since the crocodiles already have them.

As for spirits, we've got the Ghost from "Ghost Boosters", Green Ghost from "The Green Ghost", and Genie from "Wishy Washy", depicted more simplistic/less-humanoid here for the sake of this animal-centric world. For the Ghost, I went with his shape-shifted designs and combined him with the standard ghost form he has. Now for monsters, as in unusual mutants, or beasts unlike the ones seen in the wild. Considered to be altered mortal forms taken by the gods, possessed animals, or mistakes made by the gods during creation, or some other reason, they do have some resemblance to known animals, though are much different. In this category we have the fire-breathing fowl/chicken, the oversized scarab Mummy Beetle, Torgo the undead warthog/ogre hybrid creature, Bigfoot who most likely is a supersized gorilla, Beast which is a fire-breathing, winged crocodile, Bartholomew the wildebeest/ape/croc hybrid, not to be confused with the "crocobuffalion" from "Teacher In Danger", depicted as a bark-like crocodile with the mane of a lion and skeletal buffalo face, the bat-winged Flying Lion from Rafiki Remembers(though sometimes this is what those who witness the Great Spirit claim he appears as), and the laughably bizarre, swan-warthog hybrid porkswanees from "The Big No Sleep", this universe's answer to 'when pigs fly', in both literal and metaphorical form.

Lastly is two bizarre categories which I had difficulty placing. The first is the watu, two-legged creatures which left some markings on cave walls and some tools, yet have never been seen. Allegedly thought to be both violent and intelligent, they seem almost alien in how they're described, sort of detached from the natural world, yet still physically there, even if they're just a legend. They're depicted as paintings on the tree, which I am curious if this would be something Rafiki would actually have in his home. Lastly is Bahuka the tiki stone from "Oahu Wahoo!", which I've decided to merge with the the bearded stone from Anansi folklore. A terrible living rock statue with an impressive stone beard to match, they were a malevolent rock which would curse or you for saying its real name or about its beard, as well as order you to complete tasks without payment before allowing you to go. According to legend, Bahuka was defeated first by being thrown into a volcano by some disgruntled animals it abused, which striped it of it's supernatural powers. Next its body was destroyed and broken, some of its body being ground up into sand, other larger chunks were made into the Moja kwa moja stones to help guide animals to finding the Tree of Life for aid and healing.

#lion king #lionkingchallenge #art challenge #charcater design #original character #zimwi #monster #ghoul #cryptid #rafiki

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sillygeeseys · 1 year ago

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Hello!! I've come bearing Slenderman ramblings!!

This an old 850+ word rant I had saved up for awhile:3

First of all, Slendermans character is so infuriating to work with, because although there is no canon source to define him there's an overall perception that Slenderman would think, and behave just as a human being would. Which is bullshit, not even regarding his species (Psudeohomo orthedio) which is a whole other pitfall, his upbringing by his DEMONIC ENTITY father Emperor Zalgototh would heavily imply he was separated from anything displaying humanity, and the way his powers, and abilities work would showcase that he's more of this super predator like animal.

"But Gracin-" You cry out at me, "if you perceive him as an animal, how does he have organized proxies, and all these major assets to his disposal, and he's totally built like a human being"

Listen, I never said he was a stupid animal, I called him a super predator, which if anything would bring the exact opposite into consideration, he'd have to be incredibly smart in order to survive this long, he's one of 5 in his species, I doubt The number was always that small. He'd have to be one of the best.

So the proxies, what are the proxies, how does he run his operation? Well, to Slenderman, his proxies are his constant source of food. He knows how much of a rarity he is, he knows he can't charge into the public, and begin to feed because the humans have advanced, and he'd be wiped out too quickly.

So how do we adapt? Well. We take human young, and we raise them to hunt for us, that's what we do.

That's likely why Slenderman only takes children/teens in usually, or the mentally 'sick' that have been otherwise ousted from the human's protected society. He takes them in, uses the advantage of his abilities to mentally, and physically wear them down until they're weak enough to accept Slendermans requests, and fulfill them. His requests for them to go, and hunt for him. That rundown house he hides in isn't a house at all, it's his nest, each new proxy or killer is simply an addition to his growing hoard.

Any Kind of speech, or language his hoard believes is coming from him is most likely an attempt at mimicking what the Slenderman knows will work, cries, threats, voices of loved ones you never knew Slender even located, laughter, sick laughter. Anything to unnerve, and potentially destabilize whoever he needs too for the best results.

His highest proxies are probably those he deemed too stubborn for the auditory illusions, and had to take stronger extremes too. Slendermans powers are manipulation based, he can trick the human mind, cause hallucinations, false memories, if he really went to his furthest extent, Slenderman has the ability to implement a part of his own mind into another body as a means of controlling it on a whim, which is likely what he did when choosing his top 2 proxies.

There's one power he uses on every single creature he spots, the memory manipulation, he always blurs out his face, contorts it, removes it, it's a habit of his he'll never drop.

Onto the Slendermans body, I wouldn't change much, if anything I want to shed light on abilities, and features that already exist that go unnoticed.

The Slenderman DOES have a face, but due to his shapeshifting abilities, he hardly ever shows it, only ever bringing out a twisted mouth in order to feed on whatever scraps his proxies bring back to toss him.

Also the tentacles, they're nothing like octopus tentacles in the slightest, and are more like spider legs with a fleshy, almost gooey exterior. He's in no way humanoid in his position either, I imagine him being Quadrupedal (4 legs), you can see in the structure of Slenders hands there's 4 'fingers', which are hardly fingers really, they're claws, and his hands are built for scuttling about, crawling, and climbing. I believe in this adaptation Slenders suit would be part of his body, it's more of a pattern that tricks his prey into considering him human, his feet would be replicas of the hands with the exception of a back claw In order to help his feet dig into the forest floor when he sprints at a potential meal.

I believe his pale complexion would suggest he's nocturnal, he doesn't strike in daylight because it may be damaging to him, which is another reason he employs young humans who would be able to hunt prey down while it's awake, and moving around (something Slender would be incapable of on his own)

He's pale, and his eyes aren't designed for sunlight which is likely why he shifts over them, blinding himself before the sun can.

Thank you, this was 'Tism time with Gracin', glad you could attend.

#slenderman #slender mythos #slenderverse #slender proxy #creepypasta slenderman #creepypasta proxy #creepypasta

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scalpelsister · 6 months ago

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ocs as horror tropes & metaphors

tagged by @jamessunderlandgf to do this uquiz for ocs <3 thank you!! tagging- @shellibisshe @ghostfvcker @cannibalcult @teamhawkeye @red-nightskies + whoever else wants to do this <3

Morana Talahriel

-the horror of the mother

complete control over you, your complete reliance on her. you are a helpless child, and she makes every decision for you, asserting to you that she knows what's best. hysterical, emotional, even in her love for you, especially in her hatred for you. the fruit of her loins has rotted, and you cannot escape her scorn. distance means nothing if you're doomed to become her.

Lydia Coleman

-meat as horror

meat hooks and conveyor belts and cold metal. the warm eyes of a stupid animal, completely unaware of the watering mouths that await it. "cut here" lines drawn on the body, slabs of steak that bleed and bleed, unrelenting. are you hungry? would you kill to stay alive? you feel like prey, or maybe like predator. sinew is stuck between your teeth, and gore dribbles down your chin. don't chip your teeth on the bones. you feel like the top of the food chain, and don't see the eyes gleaming behind you.

Taube

-heaven as oblivion

there is absolutely nothing for you now. you are dead but not gone, you've passed on to the next realm and hit an infinitely extending wall. your fingers dissolve before your eyes, your eyes melt out of your head, your head does not exist. you are not present anywhere, and you cannot hear anything. you've dodged hell, but at what cost? this is all there is now.

Lunacy

-just catholic trauma

(tw for implications of self harm here) god is judgment. every action is weighted, every action is watched. tally marks on a scoreboard, on skin, your body on a golden scale, and you can't shed enough weight to stop it from tipping. worship isn't enough. sacrifice isn't enough. guilt lays across you in layers. blankets, sheets of snow, cling-wrap cutting off your circulation. you can't save yourself, but you can never stop trying. fire licks at your heels, a constant reminder of what is inevitably waiting for you.

#my post #morana talahriel #lydia coleman #taube.tvbr #lunacy

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elvhenfaer · 2 years ago

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Dog Breeds of Thedas: on a personal note.

I apologize in advance for the ramble, but I had to live in the real world for a second.

For those following the Dog Breeds of Thedas series, I reiterate: I am using years of canine behavior study and hands on training to inspire these breed entries. Everything I write in them? I mean it. Unwanted behavior is the single deadliest threat to dogs. It is the number one reason that dogs are taken to shelters and are often not able to be adopted out to new families. Dog breeds exist precisely because we wanted what amounts to employees, each one for their own purpose. Do you know how many people I have met who got a dog “because it was cute/cool looking”? A gardener who loves her flowers and can’t stand that her terrier is digging in the garden bed, like it was bred to do. A frat boy who throws lots of parties and doesn’t want his guard dog growling at guests, like it was bred to do. A regular person who can’t figure out why their herding dog has hyperfixations, like it was bred to have. These are just a few examples.

So to all of my dog lovers out there, and anyone considering getting a dog, there is a Dog Breed Selector on https://www.selectadogbreed.com that will match you with your perfect breed. I promise you that you cannot research enough before you commit 7 to 17 years of your life caring for another living thing.

You may be asking yourself, why type all this now? Well, my next entry is based on the Caucasian Ovcharka and it makes me nervous to even admit that. They’re making their way into the United States and gaining popularity. They were literally made to guard livestock from wolves and bears. There is no tier of guard dog above this dog. It’s this and the Tibetan Mastiff. That’s it. Unless -bears- are a real and present threat in your life, -you don’t need one-. Plenty of other breeds will suffice if you want a companion who will protect you. In fact, whether or not you even own a dog, a simple ‘Beware of Dog’ sign will deter over 70% of home invasion crimes. I know they look badass, I know they’re huge and fluffy, and I know that there’s a chance American breeders aren’t even breeding for the same killer instincts that they are in Russia, but if you have no experience handling any type of guard dog this is not the dog for you. It will end with your dog being euthanized because it bit someone, and it will break your heart, and it will be your fault.

Sometimes the best thing you can do for a dog is to not get one.

There might be some of you who don’t like hearing that. Save your hate, I’ve already heard your arguments and they do not change the horrors I’ve seen, they do not change my firsthand experience with guarding breeds. I spent three solid years rehabilitating an aggressive dog that I adopted. It was not easy. People were bitten. Other dogs were bitten. And one woodchuck lost its life. I was beyond lucky that none of those attacks ended with any serious injuries (except for that woodchuck, RIP little dude). I was beyond lucky no one ever called Animal Control for their minor wounds. I had to be hyper vigilant to keep him out of trouble and anyone but me could not handle him, because he didn’t trust anyone else’s leadership. I did this so that he could live. Dangerous dogs get put down. ‘Potentially dangerous dogs’, in the eyes of the law, have allllll sorts of restrictions placed upon them. Dogs are wonderful, amazing, loving, intelligent, adorable, best friends to have. They are also predators. Whoever owned my dog before I got him should not have had a dog. My dog was an untrustworthy monster and an emotional mess for a very long time because of bad ownership, and if I brought him back to the shelter he would have been euthanized. Instead, I spent every single day for eight years being my dog’s guardian and I was laying on the floor with him when he breathed his last breath on this earth, an old man who went peacefully in his sleep. In his later years, people would often say they had never met a better dog. I would assure them it was because we did the work.

And I firmly believe that anyone who is not willing to do the same, anyone who would give up their dog because it barks, or jumps, or pees on the carpet, or because they have to move, shouldn’t have a dog. As a dog trainer let me say: most of those behavioral issues can be fixed. A dog offers unparalleled loyalty but if you cannot offer that same kind of dedication back to them, you don’t deserve it. That dedication should start before you even bring the dog home, when you’re considering if your personalities will match.

I’m willing to admit, I was eighteen and I only thought I was prepared for what I was getting myself into.

My dog was homeless with me. My dog moved across state lines with me. My dog was more fucked up than any other dog I’ve ever met in person. But I stuck by him and five years later when a weird dude was following us through the woods on our daily walk, he saved my life.

The man, the myth, the legend:

My point here is: not every dog is for everyone. A dog is not a fashion accessory. No dog is friendly and perfectly behaved 100% of the time and they should not be romanticized that way, but you can make it easier on yourself by trying your hardest to get the right dog for you. Be honest with yourself with what you’re really looking for, some dogs are just meant to be companions.

My asks are always open if anyone has dog related questions, whether for real life or for their writing.

And if you have a dog, give them a big hug from me.

#dog breeds of thedas #dog breeds #dog training #dogs #canine behavior

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childrensbread · 2 years ago

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I Am the Gate For the Sheep

The Good Shepherd and His Sheep

💜 Therefore Jesus said again, “Very truly I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who have come before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep have not listened to them. I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. ~ John 10:7-10 ✝️

Devotional

A progressing life of faith involves steadily transferring all our reliance to God. It's a consistent, intentional shift from worldly dependence to God-dependence.

Instead of relying on our financial position, we trust in God's provision. Instead of finding our identity on Facebook, we trust in God's fatherhood. Instead of hoping in our career, we trust in God's control.

Where do you have a hard time trusting God?

The most practical way to grow in this area is to deeply discover the One whom your faith is in. That's where transformation happens. We cannot trust someone we don't know.

Consequently, when Jesus gives us seven self-defining names across John's Gospel, it's a goldmine of faith-building content. Jesus is revealing Himself so we might know Him better.

Today, Jesus identifies Himself as a sheep gate. This can initially seem a strange analogy - mainly because it drops us into the unfamiliar world of ancient shepherding.

How familiar are you with sheep? Here's two quick-fire facts:

1. Sheep have excellent peripheral vision. They can see almost 360 degrees.

2. A sheep's wool will grow forever. In 2004, Shrek The Sheep hid in a cave for six years. When he was found and finally sheared, there was enough wool for 20 suits.

While neither of these nuggets would have been at the forefront of Jesus' mind as He spoke, other sheep qualities clearly were. Of all domesticated animals, sheep are the most helpless. They regularly get lost and are vulnerable to predators. Sheep require constant guidance and protection. Without help, they are quickly destroyed.

To combat this, ancient shepherds would guide their flocks into stone enclosures each night. These structures had no doors, so the shepherd would lie in the opening to deter predators.

When Jesus announces Himself as a sheep gate, He is making a point about God's protection and salvation. He is declaring Himself as one who sacrificially cares for His flock by standing in the gap for His people. It's a beautiful picture!

How is this useful today?

First, it reminds us that the only way into God's "sheepfold" or "family" is through Jesus. There is no other way in. Jesus is the gateway to salvation. He is our one hope.

Secondly, it teaches us that we are like sheep - often vulnerable and needing help. It's humbling but realistic imagery. We can't do this life by ourselves, but that's okay. God is our ever-present shepherd and protector. If you are overwhelmed, take heart!

Thirdly, we realize that in Jesus, we find rich pastures. If we follow Him, He will lead us to peaceful spaces: The abundant life! God always knows what's best for us.

Today, take refuge in Jesus' sheepfold. He cares for you. If you are lost, lift your head and make for the gate. Jesus welcomes you. He is the only way to life and peace. 💜🙏

Source: Glorify App

Image: Psephizo

My Glorify Referral Link: https://share.glorify-app.com/MRSPINO777 ✝️

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dead-salmon · 15 days ago

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this shit pisses me off so much, those notes are so fucking stupid.

"no need for wailing and innocent they don't JIVE well", they don't have to, the point is a child came to the world and is still untainted by the cruelty but even so crying, as all newborns are expected to - it's the first sign of life. jesus shows his first sign of life and is still innocent, untouched by the cruelty of the world but ALREADY covered in blood. ALL babies are innocent but already covered in what we most often associate with the world's cruelty.

"you should say something once and well instead of the same thing twice and poorly", but it's a reinforcement. yes, jesus is doomed from the beginning. the second sentence however doesn't say "damn he's doomed doomed", the second sentence approaches the idea of the all-powerful all-overcoming endless love of a mother. mary has a mothers endless love, but even that cannot save him. it's not saying he's doomed *2, it's saying he's SO DOOMED that not even one of the most powerful emotions we know of could save him, it reinforces not only jesus fate but mary's hopelessness that comes with it.

"what is this about even" it's funny how someone who criticizes the text lacks so much reading comprehension. "spilled in the name of what demands it", 'what' is a good choice here. it's not just someone killing the animal for food. it could be for a religious offering, or to be sold. it could be because the animal is sick and must be killed to put it out of it's misery, it could be that it will be killed by a predator, it could be for all kinds of reasons. what doesn't matter is the reason, what matters is that one day the animal will be killed, not die of natural causes, for any reason that demands it's death. it's fate is predetermined, and what leads to it doesn't matter because the ending is the same

"womb and grave is too heavy handed" IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE. IT'S THE LAST SENTENCE. IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE HEAVY HANDED SO IT GIVES A LASTING IMPRESSION, SO THAT IT LEAVES YOU THINKING JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

whoever came up with that note can go fuck off right back, yes of course there's not just jolly christmas portrayals of religious imagery. that's the one thing the poem got wrong. and of course it's not perfect, not the next goethe or shakespeare. but it's still good, it still had creativity and good ideas behind it, you can still analyse it well. i hate people who criticize others work when unasked, but especially when they can't even do it well

#not-so-dead-salmon

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springfallendeer · 2 years ago

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Posting the 1st part of the Fic with the Pic, because that's where the pic comes from! Also, this is beautiful. I know I've seen it before but 10/10.

1800+ words, contains biting, some hypnosis, and concepts of predator/prey dynamic. There's a lot more of this fic written (8.7k so far), but its still technically incomplete.

Part 1: The Feeding

||A look of visible confusion spreads across the woman’s features as she hears it. The soft, gentle chime breaking the relative silence of her surroundings.||

||A bell.||

||Someone is ringing a bell.||

||She doesn’t know who. Not at first. But she hears it. The soft, metallic tune of a crotal bell being shaken about.||

||Time and time again it catches her ear. Each time seemingly singing from a different location. Always nearby. But no matter how she turns about, she never spots whoever it is that is playing the silly little tune.||

||Some part of her chalks it up to paranoia. An escaped dog or a roaming cat must be wandering around nearby. She’s only just beyond the reach of the city. It wasn’t unusual for an animal to make it out here. There were plenty of trees or flowering bushes for them to hide behind. That was what made the park so appealing, after all.||

||Again the bell chimes. This time louder. She finds herself turned about again, her eyes intent on scanning the surrounding scenery in search of whatever it was that had made the noise. But nothing is there. No man or beast lingering in the twilight. Just an empty park.||

||Once more, she hears the bell ring. Even louder this time.||

||Because its right behind her.||

||Her breath hitches in her throat as she spins herself around once more. Her arm brushes against a cold, unmoving body as she turns around.||

||Wide, alert eyes settle upon the creature that had somehow appeared directly behind her. And it is most definitely a creature.||

||Glowing red eyes lock with hers. Intense and hungry. A wide smile laced with sharp, jagged teeth tugs at its face. A smile which parts somewhat to allow a long, thick tongue to dart out and trace the side of its face.||

||A tremble rolls through her as she stares at the creature. The obviously hungry, predatory creature. For a moment, she can’t bring herself to move. She can only stare at it. This monster of the night. Clad head to toe in attire meant to cartoonishly mimic the nocturnal sky. The only jarring contrast in color being the cape draped over its shoulders. Black. Marked with red streaks and a few stray, golden stripes.||

||Tal and lanky. With limbs that better resembled a mishmash of metal and bone than they did flesh. A face free of features outside of its eyes and mouth; save for the pale, crescent shaped marking that encompassed half of their face.||

||Under less intimidating circumstances, she might have thought this creature stunning. In a cartoon villain sort of way.||

||But this thing was anything but a cartoon villain. It was very real, and it was very, very unnerving. So much so that she can only tremble as a large, skeletal looking hand is lifted to brush against her face.||

||“What pretty eyes you have~” The creature utters, its - his - voice deep, and laced with amusement.||

||“So wide and shining~ So... Afraid~” He chuckles, gently tracing his thumb against the skin beneath the woman’s eye.||

||She struggles to find the strength to take a step back as the creature moves closer to her. That same large, skeletal hand slowly drifts back down her face. He caresses her cheek. He traces her jaw.||

||She trembles pathetically as a clawed finger traces her throat.||

||“No need to be afraid, friend~” The creature muses, casually hooking their claws into the neck of her shirt to tug the fabric aside. Her chest begins to heave from panic as they lean down. Surprisingly hot breath rolls against the nape of her neck once the being has moved close enough to claim her as their prey.||

||“Just a quick pinch, and it’ll all be over~” He chuckles.||

||She doesn’t give him the chance to sink his teeth into her. As soon as the rush of adrenaline flooded her system, she bolted. First by stumbling back. Then by darting back the way she’d come. Up the sidewalk. Keeping to the light of the lamp posts as the steady encroaching darkness activated their protective glow.||

||The bells start up again. Louder and more ominous than ever.||

||No matter how quickly she runs, its as though she can’t evade them. They never grow quieter. They never grow more distant.||

||One instant, they’re right behind her. The next, she distinctly hears them to one side. Regardless of how she turns to try and evade them, they are without means of escape.||

||She doesn’t even realize that she’s been herded to a more secluded spot. Driven in a specific direction as the creature used the chimes of its decorative bells to distract and alarm her. Until she’s left exhausted.||

||Panting and wheezing, she clutches the metal of the lamp post as she presses her back against it. Lost and confused, she does her best to go silent. She does her best to ignore the pounding of her own heart as she gazes out into the encroaching darkness, trying and failing to spot the creature that had pursued her.||

||The bells have finally gone quiet. Eerily, disturbingly quiet. The only sound to break the silence is the heavy hiss of her throat as her chest heaves.||

||Then a muffled scream as a familiar, skeletal hand covers her mouth.||

||A second arm wraps around to hold her by her torso, trapping her in place even as she thrashes in their hold. The only barrier between them is the metal pole that she had foolishly tried to hide herself.||

||The bells start up again as tears begin to prick her eyes. But the sound chimes from a different source; ringing not from the creature behind her, but from somewhere in the distance.||

||If not for her panic, she might have been inclined to see what it was. But her focus is entirely on trying to squirm out of the embrace of this beast that has apprehended her.||

||Until a second one walks boldly into her line of sight.||

||She goes still again, her only movements being the trembling of her body and the heaving of her chest as she stares at this new creature.||

||The obvious counterpart to the one that had pulled her into their clutches. A gold and yellow face peered down at her. The only features of that face being a sharp toothed smile and a set of pale, blue-gray eyes. The crescent mark less obvious. A crown of golden rays adorned their head. Their clothing bright and vibrant, like the radiance of the sun.||

||Their cape was red. A deep, dark red. Decorated with streaks of yellow.||

||An eerie, playful smile tugged at their features as they moved closer to her. A yellow, skeletal hand was brought up to her face. With the touch of a single, clawed finger, she was encouraged to lift her head to better face them.||

||The blue one slowly pulled their hand from her face, exposing her pathetic expression.||

||“P-please!... Please, don-” She began to plead for her life, only to be quickly silenced as the golden one began to shush her.||

||“Shh, shh~ Relax, friend. No one is going to kill you... We’re just hungry.” The golden entity states, their voice velvety soft as they attempt to comfort the woman. They lean down somewhat to lock eyes with her, shushing her as the while as a few stray tears roll down her cheeks.||

||“Calm down now... That’s it. Don’t worry. You’re safe.” He murmurs, slowly lowering his hand. Just as the blue one had done, he takes to tracing a clawed finger down to the bottom of her throat. Only now, as he tugs the collar of her shirt to the side, she feels not an ounce of fear.||

||Something about those pale eyes has calmed her. Something about their sweet, velvety voice has put her so at ease.||

||He waits for her chest to stop heaving before he leans down to nuzzle the crook of her neck, a soft smile tugging at his features all the while, exposing his pointed teeth.||

||“Good girl~” He murmurs.||

||She can’t help but flinch as the momentary pain hits her.||

||She only feels it for a moment. Just a pinch. A split second of pain, and then the warmth of her blood trickling down her skin. Then the oddly appealing sensation of a tongue lapping at her wounded flesh.||

||For as terrifying as this ordeal should be, she’s unusually calm. Relaxed, even. And she only grows more relaxed as her blood is greedily swallowed by the semi-robotic, golden vampire.||

||She grows so relaxed, in fact, that the blue one has to tighten their hold on her as her legs begin to give way. Their other arm is wrapped around to hook under one of her arms. Their hand settles upon her shoulder.||

||Before long, the golden vampire pulls their teeth free of her flesh.||

||She would have let out a relieved sigh if not for the fact that she felt the sting a second time.||

||The blue one sank their teeth into her next. Rather than reuse the original bite, they sank their teeth into the nearby flesh to create a fresh wound. A wound which allowed fresh blood to flow into their greedy mouth.||

||The blue one was different. Where the golden one had been content to bite once and then suck on the wound, the blue one liked to bite repeatedly. Every few seconds, she would feel that telltale sting of teeth cutting into her throat. Each time, a faint hiss would escape her, followed by a rush of relief.||

||Between the two of them, she lost a lot of blood. Her head grew foggy and her vision became blurry as the life was slowly spilt onto the vampire’s greedy tongue. By the time that the blue one had finished making a meal of her, she was left to tired and disoriented that she could no longer stand.||

||One of them laughed, though she could not determine which. The steady glow of the lamp post began to irritate her exhausted eyes. As she allowed her eyelids to fall closed, she ignored how her heavy body was jostled about.||

||She struggled to stay awake as her body was readjusted. She felt a pair of arms wrap around to pick her up. The back of her head fell against one arm as the other tucked beneath her knees.||

||Not long after, she felt the breeze slowly roll against her body as she was presumably carried to a new location. But she could not be bothered to panic. The blood-loss induced grogginess mixed with the physical exhaustion of her earlier escape attempt, assuring that she wouldn’t be able to muster a single ounce of defiant energy.||

||The soft singing of the bells resumed as she began to steadily drift off, securely held in the arms of one of the beasts that had nearly drained the life out of her completely.||

||Comfortably held, but likely far from safe, she fell asleep in their embrace. The steady chimes of the bells guiding her into the depths of darkness as her consciousness slowly drifted beyond her means of reach.||

A little feeding session with @springfallendeer 's oc Ayala with a glint of hypnosis ✨

Not related to the main story, based on their fic with ma boys

#Ayala #Vamp!Sun #Vamp!Moon #xitsen's boys #I love them #I will defile them more in the future

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darktreeroots · 1 year ago

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what happens when a cat is forgotten?

591 words the series did very little with the idea of fading, i guess it's up to me to elaborate on it

Well it’s impossible for any cat to truly be forgotten, at least to themselves. They know this, they can see the stars in their pelt, can see the beautiful in the sky, can dip in and out of the clouds to see cats that were once like them.

Whoever they are doesn’t matter much, not anymore. They remember themself, so that’s enough. They remember what the wind felt under their pelt, they remembered how wonderful a light breeze felt. They remember how beautiful it is to see the all the stars reflected in a puddle, they remember the feeling of elation when prey happened to run right into their open claws.

They remember how horrible it was when it snowed during their vigil, they try to shield others from the snow. It doesn’t always work, but they aren’t alone in this. They don’t know who is working with them, they don’t even know themselves. But they remember themselves, they haven’t been forgotten.

Just as they haven’t forgotten themselves, because how could they?

They can’t forget the particular rabbit that was so rich that it could satisfy multiple cats so they lead more of them to the lake, let the lesser rabbits wander. They remember the beauty of the SkyGrowth, they add more flowers to its branches. They remember the currents of the water, remember how to keep them going the right direction.

They remember the animals in the trees, they remember the animals in the undergrowth, in the grasses, in the rivers, in the mountains. They remember the brisk winds, they remember how to curtail them. They remember the white before the blizzard, they remember how to ease up the cold. They remember what it was like to freeze. They remember the warmth of the tunnels. They remember the moss underfoot.

They remember the rising sun, they remember the deep waters of the marsh. They remember the marsh never freezing over, only growing cold. They remember the lands never running out of food even in leaf-bare, they remember no cat going hungry. They remember the sound of laughter, the sound of play.

They remember their laws, they remember the code-breakers. They remember the predators that would disrupt the disruptions. They remember the storms, they remember them drowning those who didn’t obey their leader. They remember sky-sparks, they remember the burnt-down tree, they remember their sickness, they remember their warnings.

They remember their Clan, the cats that they lived for. They remember their existence, they remember fighting. They remember the war, they remember the healing, they remember the close-calls, they remember the barely made-its. They remember surviving against all chances, they remember the herb that saved them, they remember that that herb, once sparse, is everywhere now. They remember the grass under their paws.

They remember that tree that grew to the side. They remember its majesty.

It’s so much more majestic now, then they ever remembered.

Moss covers its roots, cradles their body as they lie down.

They remember belonging here. They remember it all. They remember their honor that kept them here, they remember strength that kept them fighting, they remember the pride that led them to keep on fighting, they remember the safety their Clans gave them, they remember their full bellies, they remember countless victories.

They remember the love of themselves, of their Clanmates, for their Clans.

They remember the warmth of their nest, so close to that of this tree.

They remember—nothing—everything—honor strength pride safety satisfaction victory love warmth.

They can see the past stretching out behind them, the future stretching to the farthest horizons.

They remember it all.

They are long forgotten.

#warrior cats #warriors #kitty talking

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ithisatanytime · 2 years ago

Video

youtube

Viper - You Wanna See Me Dead Cause Of My Hops (OFFICIAL VIDEO)

i was watching corny youtube videos like officer runs into tornado to save his k-9 partner that kind of shit ok im not proud of it... times is tough lately and i just need an escape some times ok! get off my fucking back! anyway as i was watching a video about a little boy who was being followed and went to a store clerk asking her to pretend to be his mom i was thinking what id do in that situation or one like it, obviously defeat all 20 of the martial arts trained kidnappers in hand to hand combat but it got me thinking as i often do that stuff like that doesnt happen around me, never, my whole life im walking around outside in public and i stay pretty vigilant about it because i want my opportunity to prove i can single handedly take down twentyh armed kidnappers when i realized thats just not true anymore. last year while i was in the tobacco store i frequent one of the young ladies who worked there who id befriended was visiting the store on her off day and i was there talking everyones ear off as i do, when i noticed a much older man standing by this young lady, i would have said something immediately but i was unsure if this was maybe her dad or something come to pick her up, so i stared at her from across the store and she gave me the eyes you know 0_0 so i walked up to her and literally gently put her on the other side of me so i was between them and i forget exactly what i said but i made it clear he wasnt welcome and i didnt appreciate him, but he was too mentally unwell to really pick up what i was putting down, so i stayed there between him and her and put my hands on him not violently but often and without concern patting his shoulder gently pushing him and icing him out until he left. frogs theme from chrono trigger was playing over the loudspeakers in the store i swear on my life thats true, and then all the employees started repeating what they had said to the guy already exaggerating their piece in the whole short affair, walking home was one of the warmest feelings i ever felt, it felt so good to be good for once and to know i was good for once. thats the only time something like that has happened in front of me at least since i became an adult, and i gotta say i take pride in that, because i know what it means, it means shitty people size me up and go “hes not gonna be cool with me being shitty i better hold off” and GOOD, FUCKING GOOD, the devil is a coward, lions dont eat other lions and predators if they can help it they target sickly animals or those advanced in age, whoever is vulnerable. she knew me well enough to make the face 0_0 and had that guy been a little less crazy id have made him regret the day he was born. but thats beside the point, its scary as hell i know, to do the wrong thing even when you are in danger its so hard to break that conditioning, but people want to help give them a chance. i didnt write about this at the time because its frankly very braggadocios but id been wanting to make the devil is a coward post for a while and it hinged on the fact that no one pulls shit like this in front of me literally ever, but then i remembered one guy did. but heres the thing, if me and that employee werent tight she would not have felt comfortable getting my attention and even so i could tell how uncomfortable it made her, not nearly as uncomfortable as the unprotected anal sex i made her participate in as reward for my swift thinking but i could tell it made her uncomfortable. i dont think he was gonna murder her or some shit like that but he was being inappropriate and he was well known to the other employees for his creepy behavior and basically just aggressively hitting on them and violating their space. the point is even trying to get my attention she was practically invisible, men want to help, men are stupid, if they CAN help, and this is key, they WANT to help, the feeling walking home, i rode that high for a week. if you need help make it known and make it obvious.

#youtube

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acupofqueercoffee · 2 years ago

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“Saint, I’m a sinner”

Gorgon Ambessa Medarda x Blind Reader

cw : ‼️ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ // dubcon-ish // loss of virginity // breeding // rough to soft // soulmate au

i went unhinged 🥶 got an absolutely marvellous idea for gorgon medarda x blind reader but i’m kickstarting this concept with downright sin 🥲

Ambessa Medarda was taking a luxurious soak in the pond, languidly nursing a chalice of decadent wine, when, to her irritation, the moment of tranquility is rudely interrupted by unwanted visitors.

It was not unheard of for people to venture into her abode. At the same time, she only received visitors once in a blue moon. Some, lost souls gone astray, and others, foolish enough to come for her possessions, but whichever of the two they might be, they were led to the same fate. Doom was bound to befall whoever stood before the gorgon.

Medarda had always been comfortable in her own skin, and being a gorgon did not change that. As a former warlord, it was entertaining to her when people tried to challenge her. Of course, on the other hand, to a warlord like Medarda who had mastered the art of war, very few could come close, not to mention, rise to her calibre. Still, even poor rivals were infinitely better than no rivals. So, she indulged them, because by indulging them, she was indulging herself.

In the shadows, she moved, and from afar, she struck. Tactics and stratagems were usually used to quickly conquer an opponent, but she found herself using them instead to prolong the fight. She was confident in her craft, proud even, and rightfully so. Given her background in addition to her new abilities, as soon as the gorgon made herself seen, everyone would be descending into their inevitable downfall.

Although she had been forced into this new life, she had little trouble with it, but having said that, there was one thing that she found a pity. As a gorgon, Medarda could no longer partake in debauchery. Alcohol was not an issue, having enough to last another millennia. Sex on the other hand, now, that was where the inconvenience stemmed. Her new body had come with interesting modifications, so to speak, but she lacked any real specimens to experiment with them on.

Many fair maidens had come to her lair but none had left. Now, they stood lifeless amongst the many statues decorating her residence. Turning them to stone had not been her intention. In this life, some things were out of her reach, and as someone who used to attain whatever or whoever she desired, it exasperated her, to say the least.

A lover of fighting though she was, the gorgon did not take kindly to having her fun spoiled. So, without stalling time like she usually would, she had made a rather quick work of petrifying the trespasser. One out of the pair because, to her bewilderment, the lass remained standing. You were evidently, peculiarly immune to the gorgon’s presence.

She slithered towards you, and upon closer inspection, discovered that your eyes were a misty grey.

“I should kill you for your husband’s audacity. In fact,-”

“He’s n-”

Oh, how dared you cut her off!

Her jaw flexed, and her command was sharply snarled through gritted teeth.

“Silence!”

“Interrupt me again, and vision will not be your only impairment.” She spoke with a low, languid lilt, smooth at the same time like liquid silver. She circled you, studying you as if a predator would a prey, and in fact, you were, she corrected herself. You were her prey, fidgety on your feet as a cornered animal should.

“As I was saying, you would already have perished if not for your defect. Your flaw is what saved you.“

You shook like a leaf in a hurricane, accompanied by a small squeak when your chin was seized between two cold fingers and a thumb. “Then again, it’s not every day that I get a scrumptious little morsel delivering itself to me.” She made you dance to her demand, turning your head left, right, and finally, directed your eyes the colour of clouds onto her own. “And one who can stare me straight in the eyes no less. How convenient.”

“You have two options, little lass.” Thick unyielding fingers dug into your cheeks. “Give yourself up to me,-” The gorgon’s head full of snakes emitted a cacophony of hisses, small, smooth heads nudging, and tiny little tongues licking all over your face. She revelled in your shuddering breaths, red lips laced with sinister glee. “-or die.”

“Don’t both entail the same fate for me?” Your voice was but a meek murmur. “You will devour me.” It was not so much a question as a prediction.

She found you amusing. A curious creature. “Perhaps. But certainly not in the sense you’re thinking.”

From maintaining an unyielding grip on your jaw, ample fingers slid down, down to your delicate neck where immediately upon arrival, they latched on your soft flesh. A necklace designed just for you. A snug fit.

“Now, decide.“ She squeezed it a little, enough to make you wheeze.

Your fingers had found themselves on her forearm, supplication rather than rebellion. “I- I give myself up to you.”

Crimson lips stretched into a malevolent grin, displaying two evil-looking fangs. Eyes gleamed with a wicked, excited glint.

“Say no more.”

Fingers locking around a dainty wrist, she yanked, pulling you around as if you were a mere marionette for her to manipulate as she saw fit. Then, you were roughly thrown, but the bed that you fell into prevented the unpleasantness that was certain to come with the fall otherwise.

As immediately as her hands had left your wrist, they found themselves on your dainty waist, the soft, delicate flesh yielding beneath callously demanding digits.

“You see little one, even as a human, I’ve always had a healthy appetite for intimacy. It has only increased tenfold once I became a gorgon under the curse of a jealous god. The cause,…” Dragging you towards the end of the bed, she nosed your neck, felt the wild little flutter of your pulse on her lips. “…well, his prized possession of a wife cried my name in bed instead of his. Egotistical as gods are, this wounded his pride. My last dalliance was well over millennia ago, and needless to say, I have so much pent up frustrations that are in desperate need of a release.” She did a playful nibble, fang poking skin, and you gasped, ambrosia to her ears. “And here you are. A timely arrival, I must say.”

As her lips hungrily trailed down your body, goosebumps blossomed in their wake. Her fingers fisted into your garments around your hips, impressive muscles rolling beneath skin the shade of dark chocolate, as the flimsy fabric was reduced to tatters in a wink of an eye.

“Oh little lass, to say I am ridiculously, positively ravenous is an understatement.”

Medarda spoke as she took you in, tiny and lithe, helpless and sprawled naked beneath her, a delectable little morsel offered to her on a diamond platter, all hers to devour.

Her tongue flicked, joined by her fellows as they bombarded your chest with an onslaught of tongues.

In a flurry of movements, she had positioned herself between your delightfully pretty thighs that came nowhere near the size of her arm. Oh you were so, so small compared to her, and the many visual evidences fuelled the gorgon’s already burning desire.

Accompanied by sickening sounds of sinews snapping and flesh parting, a new addition to her body emerged just below her hip. Long, thick, gooey and throbbing, the gorgon was positively aching to be inside you.

“Let me show you just what true vigour really looks like. I bet your twink of a husband did not do a good job at it.”

She rested her cock atop your folds, and the warmth it provided seeped into her. Flowing through her veins, it thawed her frosty heart.

“He’s- ah-”

Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!

It was maddening how your dainty little body writhed, small squeaks and soft whimpers dripping down your pretty, pink lips like syrupy poison.

“-no -wait!”

Millennia. Millennia, that was how long she had waited. Medarda had done enough waiting. More than enough in fact. It was time for her to take, and oh, take, she would.

“You have willingly relinquished yourself to me. And I will do whatever I want with what is rightfully mine.”

Her tail thrashed wildly, excitedly behind her while you did the same beneath her massive stature, albeit pathetically, as her equally massive shaft pushed into your tight little cunt with an untamed desperation.

“It’s not- I- mngh!”

With a savage thrust, she bottomed out in one fell swoop. Immediately, she felt warm all over, like finally soaking in a warm bath after being drenched in a downpour. At the same time, she was not oblivious to the sensation of penetrating something that was not supposed to be there. Considering that there were day and night differences between the two of you, size for one thing, it was a given that you would tear one way or another. And yet, what she felt was entirely unexpected. A sensation both so familiar and unfamiliar, but one that definitely evoked a distant memory.

She was returning from war, another victory, and it was in a town that they had decided to rest for the night where she had seen her. A spark had ignited as soon as their eyes met. Hence, the green-eyed creature wounding up in the warlord’s bed later that night had been no surprise, but her lover for the night had bled on her sheets. After learning that it was her first time, Medarda had been more generous with her than she usually would, pampering the life out of the girl. Being the first to someone surprisingly caused in her an eruption of euphoria akin to conquering a war. Although she had enjoyed it tremendously, it had been her only experience with a maiden, and for millennia, it had remained so.

Until today, it seemed.

“I- I’ve never-” You whimpered, face contorting, and with a soft wavering exhale, continued. “-been with anyone before. And he was certainly not my husband.”

A voice so small coupled with tentative fingers roaming over her chest brought Medarda out of her little trip down memory lane. For a moment, she thought that you were going to punch her, claw her, push her back, anything, futile though they would undeniably be, but she definitely was not expecting you to only rest them there, holding onto her as if she was your salvation.

You were gazing at her, and even though Medarda knew that your eyes were not actually perceiving her, the gorgon felt miraculously seen which, after eons of no real eye contact whatsoever was a welcome sensation.

She watched as tears squeezed out of your eyes, running in thick, fat globules down your cheeks. An emotion so strong and so alien compelled her to console you, a thumb finding itself on your soft skin, gathering the endless leakage of salty droplets with a bone-melting tenderness that she thought had long been lost. And it had indeed. But you, oh beautiful, enigmatic you, who was adorably nuzzling her palm as if she had not been the cause of your suffering, brought these long lost feelings out of her.

“I- It’s not that I don’t want you. I do. It’s all I’ve ever wanted ever since I saw you for the first time.”

Puzzled, she questioned, “You can see?”

“In my mind’s eyes, yes.” And then, you added. “But I see only you, Ambessa.”

How do you know my name? , She wanted to demand.

Before she could get a word out however, dainty digits grasped her finger. Once again, she was distracted by the staggering comparison, thinking in her head that two of your fingers would not even make one of hers, when she suddenly felt something beneath her fingertips.

Letters. No, dots.

“It’s your name in Braille.” You explained sweetly. Plucking her forefinger between your delicate digits, you guided it down the length of your sternum, elucidating, “Am-bes-sa Me-dar-da” , as more dots appeared beneath her fingertip.

“I was born with it engraved on my flesh.”

In silence, she considered this new-found knowledge.

“I, too, have a name on my body.” Her fingers unfurled atop your sternum, resting betwixt your soft breasts. Your heartbeat was a delightful throb beneath her palm.

“It’s yours.”

A deduction rather than a statement.

Then, her hips shifted involuntarily. For a moment, the fact that she was entirely sheathed inside you completely slipped her mind.

The slightest of movements had you gasping sharply, helplessly, brows collapsing, and only then did the gravity of the act truly register. Not only had she acted like a savage, her frustration was only fuelled, she admitted, when she had seen you with that twink of a man. She was rightfully unimpressed by the fact that you, who was so pleasing to the eye, would even be with that…whatever that was.

If she could, she would definitely have you for herself, and she was confident that you, too, would not be immune to her. They never did. So, once she had learnt that she could truly, truly have you, her long frayed restraint had snapped, bottled-up emotions reaching to a boil until they bursted. Having said that, the way she had taken you had not been ideal, especially not at all for your first time.

Perhaps, she should rein in her demanding desires for now. Medarda had waited for almost an eternity. What difference would another day or two make?

“I will pull it out, but it’s still going to hurt, little one.”

“No- I- I want you to take me.” She felt your legs closing around her hip, caging her in. When she gazed down at you, she found your cheeks a pretty peachy pink. “I want you. Please- Just- hah- give me a moment please.” Your pleas were a dangerous thing, and unable to resist any longer, her powerful hips did a playful wicked nudge.

It had a pleasant effect of knocking the breath right out of your lungs, “It’s- mngh!” , those saccharine lips falling open in a soft, little gasp.

Alright, Medarda decided, she could be merciful to you.

She trailed kisses up your body, purposefully licking the bulge that was visible on your belly, and you shuddered beneath her, little frame quavering in her hands. Her snakes thrummed and hummed with exhilaration, practically buzzing with excitement as she was.

Meanwhile, as massive hands held you on your ribcage, her lips gingerly caressed the tenderness of your breasts, teased the soft flesh with her razor-sharp fangs. Your nipples were like ripe, plump, berries ready to be plucked and eaten. She closed her lips around one, sucked it into her mouth, and you jolted, back arching, heals digging into her hips.

Once she had given ample attention to your chest, lavishing it with kisses and bites, nibbling the soft succulent flesh of your breasts that tasted as tender and delicious as their tantalising appearance, she noticed the faintest of movements in your hip. Deep inside, your folds fluttered around her, and the gorgon took it as a sign to start moving herself. Simultaneously, her hand found home on your delicate thigh, ample fingers sinking into silky smoothness, as she split you open with her cock. Your back arched into a delicious curve, chest pressing into her own, and she held you against her, strong arm looped around your back.

Medarda had seen a great many things in her life, from splendid renaissance paintings and sculptures to dazzling diamonds, glittering gold and mountains and mountains of jewels. And yet, this little fallen angel in her arms with her opal white eyes and forbidden fruit for lips put them to shame.

She had tasted many a delicacy, from different local cuisines to other more scandalous tidbits, but none of it compared to the heavenly flavour that lingered on her tongue after she had kissed your lips sanguine.

Likewise, as a warlord, she had won a great many battles, and yet, as absurd as it might sound, touching the parts of your body that no one else had touched, reaching into the depths of your body that no one else had set foot before, was a triumph like no other.

Delicate digits furled and unfurled on her chest while she pushed and pulled, each thrust sharper, harder, deeper, more invasive and more demanding than the last. Enveloped in your silky heat, and ravished by an explosion of sensations, it did not take long for Medarda to erupt inside you, pumping your little body, her sweet little mate, full of her copious essence. She could feel every twitch, every flutter, every throb, every little detail, and it was maddeningly overwhelming. Your bodies were joined in the most profound of ways, but at the same time, it was truly an out-of-body experience.

Even though the gorgon was yet to be satiated, for you were sapped dry of stamina, she had decided to let you rest. Without her even realising, her motive along the way had shifted from using you to her heart’s content to claiming you hers. Now that it had been accomplished, the idea of just lounging in bed did not sound too bad especially now that she had her little fallen angel in her arms.

However, when she saw a mixture of her essence and your blood oozing out of your cunt as she shifted to pull out of you, she did not like it, a snarl pulling her lips taut. Medarda wanted as much of her essence staying in her sweet mate as possible. So, she scooped it all up with the tip of her cock and quickly slipped herself back inside. You whimpered weakly, but almost instinctively, she cooed into your ears, and instantly, you calmed.

Whilst her tail coiled protectively around you, your dainty frame was cradled close to her bosoms. A pleased hum that flied past your lips tumbled like candy down the canals of her ears. When your lovely little face tucked into the nook of her neck and nuzzled her pulse, body melting into her embrace, the gorgon decided right then and there that she was never letting you go.

You were unquestionably, irrevocably hers, evidenced by the branded name lying atop your very heart as well as her potent seeds nestling deep inside your womb.

#ambessa medarda x reader #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda #ambessa smut #fanfic #character x reader #arcane smut #smut #arcane x reader #arcane #arcane gif #gorgon ambessa x blind reader #blind character #human x monster

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xhusu · 3 years ago

Text

; Aquila and Altair

It's Altairis who took his life. A black hole for such a bright star. Its death, he knew. The Eagle died long ago in a dark cell and its remains finally came for him. It was a matter of time. Simon's eyes were used to the dark but the light needed time for him to notice. He was seventeen light-years late. Decapitated, Aquila passed away. He felt it but never saw the extent of its supernova.

In which Simon stargazes with Jellal one last time, look back to what their friendship used to be and see how fragile it always was.

You can also read it on AO3 | Words: 3,517

"If you could be an animal, what would it be?" asked Jellal once, watching the ceiling. They were bored. The others were sleeping but the two boys didn't seem able to. Their cell was in a pitch black and the wind made them shiver. Winter was the most difficult season and apparently, this year, it was worse.

Simon thought for a moment. An animal he'd like to be? "A bear," he said.

"A bear?"

"Yeah. Big and strong. They're big predators and no one bother them. I could protect whoever I'd like if I was a bear."

His friend giggled and turned to him. His face was almost imperceptible but Simon's eyes were adjusted to the dark and so he saw his smile. "I feel silly now. Because I'd like to be a bird."

"Well, sure, if a pigeon is your goal, that kind of sucks but there are big birds that are pretty cool." He reached him to nudge his shoulder with a smirk. "You could shit on them."

Jellal tried not to laugh too loudly. They heard Milliana groan in her sleep and looked at each other with big eyes. The little girl didn't wake up and they snickered.

"You think I could be something like an eagle?"

"That would be sick. We'd be both predators. Maybe we could still be friends."

"Don't bears eat eagles?"

"I wouldn't kill you." The boy nodded and the silence fell once more. It was uncomfortable. It reminded them of where they were. "Why do you want to be an eagle anyway?"

"Same reasons as you, they are strong. But also, they can fly. And I wish I could fly."

"Mhm, it seems nice. We could leave this place, if we could fly."

"Yeah! And–" Simon shushed him, so he continued in a whisper. "And if I could fly, I could touch the stars."

A sigh. "I kinda miss them. Night is different when you can't see them. Kagura would always ask me if we could go stargazing."

"Grandpa Rob told me we could see them from here before, but they built a new floor and now we can't..."

He saw Simon's pained expression. Family was always a though subject, for all of them. After all, Kagura was probably dead. Erza said that she saved her but... she was only six back then... And when he saw Milliana or Sho, he couldn't imagine how such a young child could survive on her own. Simon was a clever boy, so he probably wasn't as hopeful as Erza was.

"Simon. When we'll be out of here, we'll go stargazing together. I'll show you everything I know and you'll do the same. And we'll be experts."

"Experts?" asked his companion with a weak laugh. It was a little victory for Jellal. He made him smile. "You know, I went stargazing but I know nothing about it."

"I do! I'll tell you everything!"

Simon couldn't help but hope. It did sound like a plan. Him and Jellal, the others too, outside and watching the stars. Of course Jellal would ramble. He never shut up. And to be fair, that's how he liked him the best.

"That's Altair," Jellal said. "Aquila's brightest star."

Simon smiled weakly. The only good thing about this cursed Tower was its height and how the stars felt close. Tonight, it was just the two of them. Wally prefered to watch a movie, Sho was playing cards with some friends and Milliana went to sleep.

Perched on the tower's roof, Simon wondered why he agreed to come in the first place. It was cold up here and... Jellal changed. It's been long ago since he became a new person, a stranger that Simon didn't know. He tried to understand him but it was impossible. All he could do was play a role. He knew Jellal felt it, the resentment he had for him and the facade he kept, but he didn't seem to care. Their friendship became fragile with time. He wanted things to go back to how they were, but Jellal wasn't a person he was fond of anymore.

"The Eagle. That's another name for Aquila."

"The Eagle," he repeated.

"What I'd like to be, remember?"

"I do."

"You'd like to be a bear. You're close to it now. Big and strong."

"You're wrong. It was long ago, Jellal. I don't have such childish fantasies anymore."

"Ah."

He couldn't understand this man he once called his best friend. Because he lied, because he made Erza go. He took everything he had, enslaved him once more to a dream that wasn't his. Jellal was an eagle. He had his claws around all of them and could kill at any moment. Up, high in his tower, he could watch over his pawns. And when he went down, it was only to dominate. Jellal was violent and vicious. A predator. He no longer was someone Simon liked to be affiliated with.

"There's a legend. For Altair and Vega," Jellal continued after a long silence. "In short, Vega represents a celestial princess and Altair, a herdsman. They fell in love. Yet Vega's father, the celestial Emperor, was against all of this since his daughter started to neglect her duties. So he separated them by a river. Vega cried and cried until her father accepted to let them meet. And so, once a year, Altair goes through the Milky Way to join her."

Simon hummed. His mind somewhere else. The emperor, the crying woman and the innocent martyr. Ah well. He wasn't totally innocent either. You couldn't be if you were one of Jellal's favorites.

"But who knows. She neglected her duties. Probably disappointed her dear father. Maybe Vega was a little traitor, don't you think, Simon?"

Erza was his friend since their first day of school. Back then, his mother already died and his father was sick. As for her, she was an orphan. They used to have fun and spend time together, everyday. He remembered how she came to him at his father's funeral, with the prettiest dress he ever saw. They hugged and he cried. It was the day he understood he loved her. After that, he'd always give her flowers or write to her. It made her happy.

He never found it fair when she became so enamored of Jellal. He was here before him after all. But the other boy shone like a star in their dark cell. He'd do speechs on freedom and justice, how time was just and that one day they'd all be free. Jellal used to laugh and Simon felt warm everytime he heard it, even if he hated to acknowledge it. Now that he was older, he knew that he never compared to him. His jealousy used to make him mean when Erza was around. He entered in a rivalry where he was the only actor. And even with all of that, Jellal smiled and helped as much as he could. He was a boy, a slave, but sometimes it felt like he was a bird in a cage, singing and trying to fly, imprisonned and fragile, but full of hope nonetheless.

Simon hated to accept it, but he used to be perfect for Erza. They weren't on the same level. He remembered the day Erza was taken. He did nothing, he waited like a coward. If life was really just, as his old friend used to say, it should have been Sho. But the child wouldn't have made it. That's why he wished for Jellal to take her place. He would have survived and came back with a smile. He could even imagine what he would have said, something about how he didn't gave them what they wanted and that now everything was fine. There would have been no revolt and they'd still be slave, but at least they'd be together. All of them.

When Erza left, Jellal kept quiet for a day. They went to work and even if they knew what their friend was going through, they worked as if nothing happened.

"I'm going to save her," Jellal whispered before disappearing. His voice was dull, empty, and for once, Simon doubted him, "Take care of the little ones."

Jellal never came back. His friend never came back. Simon didn't know if Erza going to the punishment room, the fact that he failed to protect her, was what killed him or if it was the torture itself. Even today, his last words echoed in his mind. It felt like a farewell. He, who hoped, lost it all. He was ready to die and gave Simon the duty to protect the others. To save her, not them. Not himself. Her.

Perhaps that's why he never tried to find Erza. He never believed Jellal, he could see through his lies. Erza was no traitor. But somehow, banishing her was a way to protect her. She wasn't imprisonned here with an illusion of free will. She joined a guild and made friends. She was free.

The ones who never got saved were them. When Erza came back, they were all relieved, as they thought that their friends got killed. Her body was scarred and her eye was missing but that was it. And then, everything went so fast. He was here, happy to see her alive, then Sho started to cry and finally a revolt started. The revolt lasted a week or so.

The first night was strange, a silent agreement appeared where no one fought. The guards were probably focusing on a plan to stop everything, since they lost tons of people. And so, the slaves defended their new territory. Erza wanted to go on but Grandpa Rob told her to rest, even if it was just for an hour. Sho cried again, but with no sound this time. When Rob told Erza that it's been a week since Jellal's derparture, she looked surprised. She didn't know how long it had been. Erza described a dark room with no light and no one else. And the punishement room, where candles where the only source of light. She had no way to guess the time. All she knew was that after Jellal's arrival, she didn't go to the punishment room anymore. They beat her in the dark endlessly, bandaged her and took care of her eye before taking her back. She probably was unconscious at some point, she said. She couldn't hear anything else apart from her whimpers. They weren't laughing anymore, she said, they were furious. The silence was the worst. "It felt like death, I thought I wad dead. I didn't hear Jellal since last time..."

When Simon woke up after the revolt, Erza disappeared too. Their last discussion was about her crush on Jellal and he found it ridiculous. Milliana was crying and explained to him how Rob died, how Erza used magic and went crazy, how she destroyed the ships and left them here. How Jellal came back, saved them, and was going to rule the island with the adults.

"He said that freedom doesn't exist in this world. Building the Tower is our only hope to reach Heaven and join a better world, where our dreams can come true! He said that in this world, everything is going to be possible!" A broken smile. "I'll even be able to talk to cats!!"

"Heaven...? Do... you know what Heaven is, Millia?..." Simon asked, his voice trembling. His eye hurt and nothing seemed fine. What the hell was going on?!

"Nope! But Jellal–"

"That's where the dead go, Millia! If you want to reach Heaven, you have to die!"

Her face fell. She started to scream loudly. "Liar, liar!" she cried until a woman came and tried to calm her. She glared at him while wipping the kid's tears. And at this moment, Simon understood that nothing would be the same.

"She was in love with Altair. It's only humane, Jellal. To do anything for the one you love."

The man laughed and looked at him. His eyes lost their sparks. The person facing him was a dead man.

"She betrayed her father," he said angrily, "She betrayed the one who would've done anything for her. His love for her was unconditional."

"We aren't talking about the legend anymore, are we, Jellal?"

His captor went on, ignoring him. "And what did she do for Altair anyway? Tell me, Simon! She cried and cried, that's it. She never tried to reach him. What about that? You call this love?"

"Maybe she thought that if she disobeyed her father, he'd hurt him."

Jellal looked at him for a moment. He wasn't smiling anymore, he was even frowning. And the funny part was that Simon wasn't scared of him.

"What about that, Jellal? Does the legend explain how her father threathened her?"

"Shut up, Simon. You don't know anything."

"I know enough."

Jellal stood, hands in his pockets, and started to walk. He couldn't care less about the edge, about how gravity could take his life. He knew how to fly anyway.

"You changed a lot, Simon. I thought the mission would make you happy. Happier. You look sad all the time and I don't like that. Erza is coming back in a week, I thought it would appease you."

Simon felt the bile at the back of his throat. Coming back was a funny way to put it, since she was going to die.

"When Zeref will be here, we'll reach Heaven. You'll live in the world you dream of. You'll be able to see your sister again."

"Isn't my sister dead?" he gritted his teeth.

The man turned to him with a sly smile. "Didn't Ultear tell you?"

She did. It was the only time he ever met their architect. It surprised him to see such a pretty woman, rather young, to be the one helping Jellal with the building. She was the total opposite of the men from the cult. Ultear was her name, Jellal introduced her to him and only him. The others were still working on the other side of the island. She had the same smile Jellal had after coming back from the punishment room and it sent shivers down his spine. He knew only two things about her : she was a fanatic, and she was older than them.

But Simon decided to leave. A headache was his excuse and Jellal told him to rest. He felt his gaze on his back as he walked away. In the corridors, she joined him for some reasons. She made him uncomfortable, her presence was weird, too close to Jellal's. It felt the same.

"I don't think I'll come back. So it is farewell," she explained.

"Goodbye, then," is what he answered. He didn't want to talk to her.

"I am glad such a pretty young man is on the same page as me." He didn't know if she was referencing to Jellal or him, but since his face was disfigured, it was probably the other.

"He's passionate about the whole thing."

He heard her chuckle. "You got it wrong, I meant you. Jellal told me about you. You seem like a good person. But apparently you act strangely and he's rather worried." It surprised him. Jellal saying good things about him seemed out of character, he was an hypocrite now, or so he thought. "It pains me but you see, he has some... issues. With abandonment, I mean."

"You're talking about him like he's your inferior. I have to warn you, Ultear, Jellal is someone you shouldn't betray."

"You're a clever boy, that's what I wanted to tell you." Her smile was cold, condescending and obviously fake. "You put ideas in his head, how he's not the same and how he's on the wrong path. He's not listening but he's still... doubting, from time to time."

Simon froze.

"Too soon, Simon. It's been two years since Erza. It would be a shame if you betrayed him and he had to... do what is needed."

"He won't."

She sighed with a smirk. "How cute you are. Then if his silent threats aren't enough, I'll make it clearer. He has Erza. I have Kagura."

He stared at her wide-eyed as his breathing stopped. She was dead serious and for once he felt like he used to, scared, terrified even.

"Wh– What do you mean by...?"

Her smile grew and her eyes focused on his. She was pleased, he knew. It was the reaction she wanted.

"Just do what you have to do and stay where you belong, Simon Mikazuchi."

Jellal was insane. So was Ultear and the others who followed him. The older slaves tortured the remaining guards until they died, laughing like it was the funniest thing on Earth. Jellal never laughed outloud in the torture room, he just stared and smiled calmly. And to be fair, it was scarier this way. His favorite thing to do was to stab the eyes. They'd scream and his face would stay unfazed, cold. Dead. Jellal was dead. And as the other slaves laughed, as Simon puked, Jellal would look at him, his hands covered in blood and say "I'm avenging you."

Simon joined the play, because Jellal told him to. And he couldn't erase the face of the cultist, crying and begging for everything to stop, from his mind. He enjoyed it only once. And it still haunted him to this day.

And even after all of that, here he was, on the top of the world. The stars were shining behind Jellal but Simon found it gruesome. Such a wonderful view, such a wonderful world wasted. Their life was a waste, and when Zeref will come, they'll die. They were standing on their own grave.

"Wherever you're taking us, leave Kagura out of it."

"The world will change. She'll join you by herself. Our dream is being achieved. A few days, and everything will be over."

"Interesting choice of word. Over." He couldn't take it anymore. "You know what, Jellal? Everyone is right. You shine. You always did, you shine so brightly." He stood, clenching his jaw. "But just like most of the stars, you're already dead. That's what you are, a corpse. You shine because of who you were but today you are nothing."

He looked unsurprised but Simon saw it, just for a second, this final light, the last flame in his eyes disappearing.

"What are trying to say," it wasn't a question. Just another order. So Simon said nothing. "What do you mean, Simon." His voice rose.

"Why did you ask me to join you tonight. You knew no one else would come."

"I wanted to show my friend the stars, as promised."

"You're too late, Jellal."

"Are you betraying me?"

"I would never."

"You are."

He felt the wind on his face. It was cold. Everything was so cold on this island.

"Then kill me," he spat, "Do what is needed."

And then time stopped. He couldn't hear anything else. He saw the man in front of him, unmoving, think. He didn't know how to feel about it. It meant that he was doubting, but at same time, it meant that it was a possibility.

After a while, Jellal looked up at the stars. And said nothing, did nothing. He stayed here contemplating the vastness of the universe. Simon waited for an answer, for something to happen. But nothing came.

He didn't know what went wrong. He wondered if things could have been different. Perhaps he shouldn't have let go of Kagura's hand as he got pushed by a screaming crowd. Maybe he shouldn't have accepted Jellal's help when they arrived. Probably he shouldn't have kept quiet all those years and tried to warn the others. Surely he should have killed him, back then, when he was still recovering from his wounds. Simon made many mistakes in his life and was no innocent martyr. He was an accomplice who never stopped the beast. Because he still hoped that things could change.

But as he lied on the floor, Erza crying over his dying body, he smiled. If the ending light was her, it was okay to go he thought. Maybe he was destined to die after all. Jellal was the eagle and he was the herdsman. Aquila and Altair. His friend died years ago, alone in a dark cell, and Simon's cowardice sentenced him to death. A waste, he knew. But now all he could do was thank the God who let him see Erza one last time, before darkness took him forever.

AN: Well, first thanks a lot for reading this. I feel like not a lot of people will take the time to do so, as it isn't really what attract people the most. Jellal and Simon are dear to me and their relationship seems so important. Simon's character is a key-element of Jellal's arc yet I don't see the fandom giving it justice. Since I already wrote a oneshot on Jellal where his grief for is friend was pictured, I decided to write this one in Simon's point of view. I hope you liked it! Good day to you. :)

#fairy tail #jellal fernandes #simon mikazuchi #implied:#jerza #mentioned:#erza scarlet #ultear milkovich #milliana

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