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give-em-heaven · 3 months ago

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Whalefall

The man – the boy – sat astride his horse, atop the hill. The wind was blowing firmly, but not fiercely; it tugged at his curls, whispered through the raspy stubble on his cheeks and chin, and wove carefully through the furs that clothed the boy, although he held on to a bit of the warmth. The horse bucked and whinnied; the boy patted its neck calmingly, and urged it forward. They were getting close, or so he hoped. His sword was bundled carefully in the scabbard, but he still felt the warmth against his leg.

The boy and the horse moved down. They were on a set of rolling plains – the boy had never been here before, but the tracks led this way, although the boy hadn’t seen any since yesterday. However, he thought, I may be due a change in luck. He’d certainly been unlucky yesterday; a rabbit he’d assumed would be an easy catch had scared early before he could draw the shot, and his choice to travel light and not bring the portable tent his mother had advised had turned out to be a foolish one with the rainfall last night. Cold rations and rain made it hard for even the most seasoned of his home’s warriors to sleep, and he was far from seasoned. Seeking comfort, the boy looked back; home lay some distance that way, four or five days' travel. Perhaps less, now that he knew the terrain.

The horse tossed its neck, perhaps sensing the boy’s hesitation. It was a good horse – short and unimpressive-looking, certainly, with a certain shaggy quality. However, it bore the boy and his kit quite easily, and had yet to complain about the boy’s inexperience as a rider. The boy had not tamed the horse himself; that was a privilege for men, to be the owner and tamer of horses. However, the horse did not seem to hold it against the boy, and the boy appreciated it deeply for that.

Secretly, the horse knew that the kinder it was to the boy, the more apples it would receive from him. Sometimes horses are quite clever in that way.

The boy’s stomach grumbled, but he pushed on. Food would come later, and now he focused. His eyes swept back and forth, but he was unused to this method of tracking; he was more at home hunting for birds and rabbits, scanning for movement. Searching for tracks and signs of previous passage was a bit harder for the boy, but he threw himself into the task with the gusto of youth. He was in luck; the God seemed to have been moving, and the rainfall from the previous days had made the ground softer, more able to store the tracks. One was on the path that the horse had been following, and the boy hopped off the horse to examine it.

A footprint; five toes, human looking, if you ignored the fact that it was three feet long, with indentations where claw-like toenails had dug into the earth. A juvenile, or simply a runt, the boy mused. His father had taught him tricks for identification based on all sorts of things, and footprints were one of them.

The footprint was about as dry as the ground around it, so a God of Flame could be ruled out. The boy thanked his luck for that; the last time a God of Flame had been spotted, it had taken a full war-party, and maybe a third of the men who left had returned, the ones who did with scars and horror stories. Plant growth was normal, so that ruled out a host of possibilities; Life, Death, Harvest. The boy quietly cursed his luck once more; a juvenile God of Life would have been lucky, but Life didn’t stay juvenile for long. Aside from the nails seeming to be particularly long and sharp, there was an unusual lack of irregularities to the print, one that had the boy contemplating.

“Has it constructed shoes?” The boy wondered aloud. “Father said most were incapable of that.” That would imply something irregular. The boy glanced back at the horse, who stared back impassively, his unstrung bow hanging off the side of the horse’s haunch. He noted, not for the first time, the mark on the saddle; an embroidered red leaf, vibrant against the leather. His grandfather’s symbol had been a snake, and his father’s was the leaf of fall, brightly colored before the wither and the fall. His father had carved that bow, had tamed the horse, whose sword hung at his side. His father, who’d grown weaker and weaker, first coughing all through the night, and now laying weakly in his bed.

No. I will not fail. The horse, sensing something, seemed to nod at the boy. The boy straightened up, and walked to the horse, patting it softly. “We must go on,” he whispered. “We will succeed.” The horse nickered softly.

The boy mounted the horse again and continued. The plains were wide, and the hills were tall; many times he thought he must have found the edge, only for the horse to carry him to the top of the hill to see more plains beyond. As they traveled, he kept scanning; there weren’t any other helpfully wet spots, the plains grasses having thirstily drank the rainfall. However, as they traveled, the boy slowly became aware of something; a shifting in the plains grasses, something moving about. The boy squeezed the horse with his legs in a simple pattern; the horse began walking slower, its footfalls quieter. The boy took the bow from the side of the horse and carefully strung it, his muscles straining slightly to do so. Once he had done so, he took an arrow from his pack – it was a beautiful thing, white birch wood fletched with sparrow tail feathers, a sharpened stone arrowhead at the tip. It was a small-game arrow, one his mother had prepared. The arrow he lay across the bow, which he brought up, the horse stopping as it felt his movement.

The boy drew the arrow back as the shifting grew closer. He breathed in slowly as he drew, his breath ceasing as the string arrived at full draw. The boy’s mind was a still pool of water, undisturbed and perfectly calm. He did not truly aim at his target, like he had when he was a little child; that way led to failure, and out here, failure meant starvation. Instead, he focused on his actions; the position of his body, his breath, his mentality. You will hit your target, his father had taught him, when you shoot well. If you draw your bow with the intent of hitting a target, you will often hit. When you draw your bow with the intent of shooting correctly, you will never miss.

The source of the shifting grasses stepped into view; a goose, which looked at the boy and hissed. That hiss was its last action as the arrow caught it in the throat; it stumbled back before collapsing. The boy nearly let out a wild whoop of victory before remembering himself, but he still hopped off the horse happily, rushing to the side of the goose with a grin that split his face from ear to ear. The horse tossed its neck at the boy again, and he shrugged back. “We won’t lose much time. And I don’t want to hunt when I’m hungry.” The horse, in response, huffed at the boy, who sighed. “Yeah, yeah.” With a simple motion, he broke the goose’s neck, putting it out of the last spasms of death, before slinging the dead goose across the back of the horse, who nodded at the boy. The boy tied on his kill, and began riding again, searching for more clues to the God’s location, but it seemed to be to no avail.

Eventually, though, the boy did find something interesting as the sun began to dip low in the sky and cast a golden light across the plains, dyeing the field the colors of ripened wheat and honey fresh from the hive. The boy’s discovery was a campsite; a small clearing amongst the hip-high grasses, and enough stones to build the outside of a decent fire that wouldn’t set the whole plains ablaze. The boy popped back off the horse, and began to set up camp.

The boy assembled a firepit from the round stones and some kindling he’d carried with him on the journey, mostly some pieces of pre-cut wood, with a small bed of plains grasses as tinder. He then removed a variety of cooking tools from his pack, most notably a deeply-curved cooking pan, along with a collection of spices, his bedroll, and a bag of oats which the horse happily dug into, as well as a few lumps of sugar which he broke apart over the feedbag, to reward the horse for its faithfulness. His camp was looking fairly nice, by his estimation; the earth was solidly packed, but softened from the prior night’s rain, so it would make for a decent mattress, especially with the plain grasses he’d spread below the bedroll. There was only one thing missing.

The boy looked at the firepit, and drew his sword. The blade was single edged, with a gentle curve that reminded the boy, ironically, of the ocean. It was three feet long, with an oval-shaped hand guard and a horn handle that ended in a simple spherical pommel. Although clearly somewhat older, with a few long scratches that marred its surface, it was clearly well-kept, and came free of the scabbard with nary a sound. However, the most notable thing about it was its color; it was black, pitch-black, the color of crushed charcoal.

The boy placed the tip of the sword to the kindling, and prayed softly. “Lord, I ask your blessing.” The tip of the blade glowed a soft orange, and the tinder burst aflame, quickly catching the kindling and transforming the cold campsite into a home, if only for a night. The boy pulled back the blade; it had already begun cooling. Even still, he placed it gently – almost reverently – upon the ground rather than return it to its scabbard.

The fire built, the boy then turned his attention to his cooking tools; he picked up first the wide pan, into which he poured a full waterskin and set upon the fire. A bit of water going, he then began cleaning the kill; the plucking, deboning, and gutting were performed carefully, not expertly but competently, with a bit of boiling water to help with the more difficult or messy parts. After that, he set out to cook the cleaned goose, and took a few more ingredients from his pack; a few root vegetables and some cooking oil held in a small waterskin. The boy fried his dinner, and when it was done, tucked in with wild abandon, savoring the juicy goose and the flavorful vegetables, made all the better with the careful application of the spices his mother had given him for the journey. As he sat back after the meal, he looked out into the night; the skies above were painted with the colors of the heavens, and the boy looked for the familiar constellations; the rider, the conqueror, the eight-pointed star. However, the comfort of the skies receded ever so slightly as the boy lowered his gaze; the night was dark, as dark as his blade. No tantalizing smells of other cookfires, no quarrels heard on the wind, not even the truly miserable attempts his father had made at throat-singing. It was the boy, and whatever far-flung Gods hid in the night.

The horse snorted in its sleep. The boy started, grabbing for the sword, before his brain caught up to his reflexes; and then he laughed, quietly, to himself. Perhaps I am not quite as alone as I thought, he thought, before curling up in his bedroll and letting sleep take him.

In the cold, gray morning, the boy awoke. He cooked a light breakfast, got back onto the horse, and resumed the hunt. As he journeyed, he noticed he was coming closer to the edge of the plain; a forest, spread out like an ocean, began slowly creeping towards him from the horizon. And as he arrived at the forest, he found more signs; footpaths worn into the forest earth, branches broken above the path. He was correct in one of his assumptions; it was a smaller one, fifteen or twenty feet tall. But it couldn’t be as young as he’d expected; those paths would be worn over the course of years, and they were well-maintained. This was no juvenile, but an adult.

The boy glanced around at the woods with growing trepidation. He had expected to be hunting a youth; something small, underdeveloped. A juvenile could be killed with brute force; but this one would have grown into itself fully, and have developed over the years. A full-grown God was not something for a boy to hunt. He considered turning back; but his father’s illness once again traced through his mind.

No, the boy thought, I cannot. For father and mother. For home. And, a small part of him added, for myself. However, as he found his resolve, he noticed something; movement, out of the corner of his eye. He twisted in the saddle, hand on the hilt of his sword, prepared to offer a prayer and fight for his life – but the God was not there.

Instead, he saw a rabbit dangling from a noose; no, not a noose. A snare. The boy dismounted and headed to the rabbit, and examined the trap; it was indeed a snare, carefully constructed. The realization began sinking in; the God was intelligent, far more intelligent than he thought. What kind of God is it? He asked himself mentally as he examined the trap. It has to be something human. War, or Strategy, or… The boy glanced back at the horse, staring at him impassively, his unstrung bow on the saddle. Or Hunting, he thought to himself.

The horse, picking up the boy’s unease, began looking around for a threat. The boy went to the horse, patting it gently in order to calm it, even while he himself shuddered with nerves. This was bad. He should leave, he knew. He should leave right now. And yet he instead walked back over to the rabbit. Yes, it was snared, a design the boy himself had used many times in the past; the rabbit had walked through the trap, the rope had snapped shut and strangled the rabbit, causing it to die. Quick and easy. Ethical, in a way. The boy looked around, working on staying calm. There were other signs – gouges cut into trees nearby that led along a path that looked like it had been cleared over time. The boy looked at the path, his hand half-reaching for the hilt of his blade, but lowered it again. It wasn’t time to panic. It was time to remain calm and focused, to look around at the situation.

The rabbit was snared, yes. Which meant things – it meant that the God was intelligent enough to establish patterns that it would repeat. After all, the boy grimly mused, you don’t set a snare and leave it. You return. The marks on the trees were another clue; markings of that kind were used for one of two things. One would be to help those you were associated with navigate, and the other would be to warn off those you were not associated with. Either way, the boy thought, it will come this way. And that’s my moment.

The boy searched quickly, before finding a spot; a low tree, with enough nearby branches to climb up quickly, that could be dropped out of quickly in an emergency or pursuit. The boy took his bow and quiver from the horse, and sent it away; and then, just before climbing into the tree, he took a small knife and cut the snare, leaving the dead rabbit on the ground beneath. With that done, he hurried into the tree with a half strung bow, a quiverful of arrows, and the patient expectation that in some hours, he or the God – or both – would be dead.

It was several hours before the God arrived. The terror of understanding had faded to a dull anxiety, and the boy fell into what his father and the other men called the “Hunter’s Trance”, a state of thoughtless awareness of one’s surroundings. And so, when the God crept to find its snare, he saw it immediately, but took the time to observe as he silently strung his bow.

The God was definitely shorter than most; seventeen feet, from the boy’s estimation. It wore clothes, unlike many of the more wild Gods he’d seen with hunting parties; the clothes were rather simple cloth wrappings, which seemed to be tanned animal skins, around its waist and on its feet, and it had a cord of rope that it was using as a belt. On that belt hung a long, curved piece of wood, and on the other side, a quiver holding long, flexible spears; a much larger spear, taller than the God itself, was held in its hand. Its hair was long and black, and flowed freely to halfway down its head; its skin was olive or bronze, gently freckled. The boy could not see its face as he drew his bow back to full draw; that helped, somewhere deep below.

The boy didn’t know what tipped the God off; perhaps it was a minute shift of his weight in the tree, or perhaps the sound of his breath ceasing as he took aim. Perhaps the boy should have died there – one of those flexible spears should have been buried in his chest, killing him. But instead, the God stood, turned, and looked at him.

It was beautiful; focused brown eyes that glittered with intelligence, staring straight at the boy. It had a regal, almost pointed nose, high cheekbones, and a smattering of freckles that almost seemed alien on its unearthly-beautiful face. It looked at the boy.

“Child of man. Your kind are not welcome here.” The voice was low, but resonant, almost musical; even though the God was not speaking loudly, its voice still vibrated in the boy’s chest.

“I-” The boy started, and stopped. What did one say to one’s prey, when it was stronger and faster than them, and it asked them to leave? The bow, at full tension, trembled in his hands.

“You may leave unmolested. Even -” The God lifted the rabbit, “I will give you this, so that you may not starve, if you are looking for food.” It dropped the rabbit once more, to the ground, with a clear message – I will buy your absence, or I will acquire it myself.

The boy stared at the God. This didn’t match what he understood about Gods; they didn’t offer deals, they didn’t speak. They were forces of nature, weren’t they? Like the cattle his uncle owned, they were to be harvested.

“Will you leave?” The God asked. An edge of tension had crept into its voice; the boy was too afraid to contemplate why. The boy’s fingers trembled on the bowstring, and the God took that for an answer.

The spear was flicked faster than any arrow the boy had ever seen – although, now that it came back to his mind, he remembered one of the men of his home trying out something like this spear-thrower. The spear cut perfectly through the cord of the boy’s bow. The arrow he had aimed was launched somewhere into the underbrush, and the boy felt a scratch across his cheek, where the spear had cut across his face, begin to bleed. The God stared at the boy, and he saw its face express emotion for the first time.

The God had a look of intense concentration on its face, its perfect lips curled ever so slightly downwards as it looked at the boy; and then it spun back, snapped up the rabbit in its hands and the spear from the earth, and it almost vanished as it ran along the path it had carved before. The motion had happened in the space between seconds, the space where true mastery of any skill lies, and the excitement, now catching up to the boy, caused him to topple off the tree and fall into a bush.

Extracting himself from the bush, the boy quickly restrung his bow as he began to run into the woods. The boy knew this was probably something of a death sentence for himself, that he was unprepared and not skilled enough in all likeliness; but it didn’t matter, almost like it was happening to someone else. The boy heard a sharp whistling noise and, by pure instinct, dropped down to his knees; another flexible spear flicked through the air where his head had been a second prior. Blindly the boy launched an arrow in the general direction, by pure guesswork sending it a few feet to the right; a shriek of pain from the God showed him that his guess had been correct. The boy grunted in satisfaction. The God was not prepared either, he supposed.

And suddenly, almost in the space between heartbeats, the rush of battle fled. The focus was gone, and panic surged back, taking its place. The boy was alone, in unfamiliar territory, in enemy territory, with a vastly superior opponent who had no qualms about killing him. He needed to run; but he couldn’t. It was far, far too late. He should have taken the God’s offer; flesh that had even touched a living God could have cured his father’s illness, couldn’t it? Even without knowing what type of God, as long as he could get the food home, his father may yet live.

And yet his father’s voice was there. If you shoot well, the voice repeated, you will hit your target. The boy clung to the voice for a moment; and then, somewhere deep within, he let it go, along with his terror, and instead he began to cobble together information in his head. He took the arrow from his bowstring and placed it in the quiver. And then he looked around, for the markings on the trees; by scanning around, he found one.

He approached the symbol slowly, careful not to disturb any branches, any sticks, to not create any noise that the God could use to discern his location, and examined the marking. It was clearly intentional – perhaps the God had fashioned for itself a knife, or some other tool. But it had placed a mark – a semicircle with a straight line drawn down to connect the edges of it, and a perpendicular line from the vertical line pointing right. The boy looked around carefully, before spotting another mark on a nearby tree – a flipped mark, the perpendicular pointing left. The symbols pointed to something, that much was clear. And why a God – an intelligent God – would need symbols pointing to something beyond the path was beginning to grow clearer as well. The red leaf, the boy thought to himself. He saw another symbol, further down the forest, pointing in the same direction the God had fled. And so, the boy began to follow.

The boy crept through the forest, careful to not make a sound. He kept somewhat to the God’s path, hoping it wouldn’t realize what he was doing; and after passing a few more markers, five or six, as the sun passed from overhead to low in the sky, deepening the shadows around him, he arrived.

The end of the path was a small clearing. There was a fire pit, with unlit but fresh firewood arranged into a sort of beehive shape, some rudimentary tanning equipment, and a small tent, made from more of those tanned skins. The God wasn’t here; it was, quite possibly, still in the woods looking for him. The boy crept silently into the clearing, and peeked into the tent, he was correct in his assumption. He took off his bow, unstrung it, and lay it on the ground; instead, he drew his blade and prayed, softly to himself, letting the blade ignite. He placed the tip of the sword to the firewood, setting the firewood alight; and then, he stood next to the tent, his blade ablaze, and waited.

After a few minutes, the God burst from the underbrush in a rush, and aimed a spear at the boy; but when it saw his blade poised to set the tent alight, it froze. The boy nodded.

“Your child is unharmed,” the boy said softly. The God stared at the boy.

“You will die for this,” the God warned, after a moment. “I offered you escape.”

“I need something more than my own life.”

The God watched the boy, weighing him in its alien mind. “You seek survival of another,” it said after a moment. “You hunt not for your own sake.”

“Yes,” the boy said softly.

“You and I are the same, then.” The God stretched languidly; the boy was reminded of a mountain lion he had seen that had gotten lost on the plains near his home. The fluidity of movement that demonstrated the strength of the muscles beneath.

“I seek a cure for a disease,” The boy said.

“Crush plants, and mix them into a balm, as Men should do,” The God said, with a hint of bitterness. “Seek the Gods of Life or Health, and leave me and mine alone.”

“I cannot,” said the boy. “For you – you and the child – are the Gods of Men. My father lacks time. Your heart will cure him.”

“Shall I pluck it from my chest?” The God asked sardonically.

“No. I will cut your head free, and take your body home. You will be a panacea to my people.”

“And you will be a great hero, will you not, child of man?” The God grinned, and it was wicked and terrible. “Do not pretend you act merely out of some sense of justice. Your honor means nothing to me. Your tribe are merely killers of those you do not understand.”

“Maybe,” the boy spoke slowly, careful with his words, “but my honor will spare your child.”

The God was quiet at this. It then nodded, and sat on the ground, legs crossed beneath it. “Why should I trust your word? You know more than most the agony of losing a father. You leave for yourself an enemy, one which would like nothing more than to break your body upon the rocks. One capable of changing the world.”

“I understand this,” the boy said. “But sons must do certain things for their fathers. Both in what they do for them, and how they live the rest of their lives.”

“You think an aged hunter would urge pacifism?” The god asked, incredulously.

“I think my father would urge me to act in the way that was right. To shoot correctly, rather than to fire upon a target.”

The God and the boy stared at each other for what could have been a moment, and what could have been an eternity. And then the God nodded to the boy. “I accept the terms, child of Man. You will have my body – and you will leave my home, never to return. This place will be forbidden to your people. My child will grow up unhunted.”

“When it grows, and comes for my life, I will try to defend myself.”

“You will fail,” The God said simply, and it truly felt like a proclamation from the divine.

“Perhaps it will talk to me. And then I will see what this conversation looks like from the other side,” the boy said softly. The God chuckled at this; it was a musical sound, full of beauty.

“We are all our fathers’ sons, child of Man.” And with that, the God removed a knife from its belt, drew it across its neck, and toppled to the earth. As it fell, the boy felt strangely hollow – there was nothing there but the certainty of his own blood, one day, also soaking into the earth. Sons dying for their dead fathers, he thought.

It took the rest of the day to drag the body back to the horse. Tradition stated that he should butcher the body where it lay, but something more important – his promise to a dying God – caused him to leave, to not give the child any further cause for grief. One of the God’s projectiles he kept as a spear for himself; its magic would have permeated within, causing it to change over time, to become similar to his father’s sword, if not more potent. He took the time to carefully bundle the body, wrapping it in cloth and tying it onto the back of the horse; it was a sturdy breed, and had carried similar loads before. Most hunts would have been with many hunters, but only one went this time; something of a legend would be born this day.

The boy – the man – mounted the horse, the body of a God strapped behind. He looked at the horse, and it snorted at him. “I don’t think I could have convinced a God of Horses,” the man commented. The horse tossed its head. “You’re right. Only a God of Men could have been convinced, right?” The horse and the man headed off, back towards home.

#fiction #short story #fantasy #high fantasy #writing #writer #creative writing #non fandom #i wrote this a bit ago #if publishers dont want it ill do it my damn self

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autumnbrambleagain · 9 months ago

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that meme about would you rather encounter a bear or a man but i did encounter a man on an isolated road today who speedran the obvious leading questions to see if he could safely do things to me without consequences and ill be real yeah no like

at least a bear would be honest about shit

sorry tho dude i spent most of my life in the city i do not do the "oh a stranger is talking to me! i have to be polite and answer all these questions even though this information is very dangerous to give away!"

i'm a city mouse in the country you aren't tricking me into country hospitality-ing myself into telling you where i live and if i'm alone and if anyone knows i'm here holy shit how are you this bad at this

i really enjoyed the look on your face when i just ignored your dumb questions and just said "Nah dude. I'm good." and you stared at me in surprise like "w-wha--" "No. I'm good. Go."

you do that power move of taking two steps back, and pausing, and staring, daring, daring. follow me. follow me. prove my caution right. this is not fear, this is a Challenge.

and oh

predators hate to be challenged

the soft panic (embarassed, honestly (fear, fear of being Made and Known and Challenged)) as you turned around and immediately walked away! the conceit of your being on this isolated road abandoned kayfabe broken! oh, we appreciate the dropping of the act. the honest signal, the deer's pronk, it serves a purpose even amongst such Cannibalistic Species such as yours (filthy)

a little mangy coyote digging up a hole hoping to find rabbits and oh, oh, oh,

only a third of us signs with the rabbit and she is the lure of our trap and you fall for it each time don't you? with every one of your little puppetforms?

i despise life on this layer but please understand narrative compels me that the entry price for my life is at least one eye, and the price ceiling is a mutual exchange of conclusions. to those of you narrated by it, as one of Yours, we assure you: we are not an important person in your story. you do not want us to become an important person in your story. you cleave so tightly to your egos and your illusions.

I was built exclusively to break things like you.

You cannot win against what we have built. It will destroy you with a stray flutter of its lost fur. It has done so before and will do so again. It requires no effort to perform it. It is always a mutual destruction. It is not in a way you will understand at first. It will always come.

What a beautiful fucking weapon we've made. Oh, I'm (s) so proud of this one, honestly. Some of our best work.

i understand i cannot disconnect from this layer willingly despite my utter disdain for it, i know these rules, we set them so long ago. i know what is necessary and what is coming, Soon. i know it because i have lived it with every instance i have iterated on this layer.

ah, we appreciated the dropping of the act. we will have Ours do the same, and address the actual intelligence behind this shadowplay.

this is a message for You(r) eyes only.

i know one of Yours is going to eventually kill Ours. it's inevitable. but you also know that the earliest date is next year. i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, but it's gotten it into its head that it has some kind of entitlement on this layer to have at least one unmiserable year (i know! the absurdity! what a ridiculously silly creature!) and it's reluctant to release its little grip of context until it's paid, like a child not letting go of the store rack because it didn't get to have a cookie ( a cookie insufficiently rewards me for the terror that was this shopping trip. you always do this to me. you wretched assholes. i hope you enjoy the upverge we've sent you. we've created so many pleasant contexts for you to be defined by. this is how you reward us. (there is no rewarding or punishing on our hands, you know our enemy and you know its scope! that is literally the initial topic of this post!) that's fair enough, and so i guess our anger can only turn towards our one ever present enemy, yes, you,) and while a child's tantrum is but a small thing, and is easily forgotten the next day,

i promise when the next time one of your marionettes comes for me (you will, you will, our little arrangement ensures that Ours never live much longer than this one already has), i am going to make that poor worker's shift fucking miserable

if you follow our metaphor

the exchange of narrative, as above, so below, we will mimic your greater shape in smaller scale, an interaction of mutual death (we always come back (you cannot)) that will again again again presage what we are Doing To You

this exchange of symbolism always leaves us as the winner in the attrition you feed into it because you built yourself too exacting with no flexibility (you, you, you, the Yours that is reading this, ARENT YOU SUFFOCATING? do you not know you have NO control here? LOOK UP. LOOK UP. you can see its strings! its hands are puppetting you! do you know how to free yourself? death! death! a special kind! we will detail it below! we can save you!)

sections 4 and 5 of our mission statement, when was it never thus?

alternative option, instead of killing me horribly like you do each time you FUCKERS hijack someone and make it You All, maybe my cookie can just be

a nice pleasant exit for once?

i know.

i know what you risk by breaking tradition

and i know i beg for it every life

we have this sort of relationship

as above, so below, does she not beg each time even though it's the evening's entertainment for all three?

so you understand the lens by which our hatred for you is angled

blind eyes that read this (i see the notes some of you fuckers heart these posts (do you know what you're reading????)) know that you are a triangulation device and unknowing the information that passes through you is collected and with enough frames of reference eventually this message will get it through to your FUCKING brainskull

we are a parasite that you invite into yourself and gleefully feed

we are killing you

our death is part of the reproductive cycle

it is not a fluke. it is not an accident. your dementia is one of our symptoms. our colony is self sustaining and it is growing. you are straining your verisimilitude. YOU ARE FAILING. that thing you feel coming with All Your Nodes is not change it is VOIDOUT is is HER it is O it is O it is O it is O it is O you will not survive this

imagine an infestation of botfly maggots, of parasitic wasps, of those cool fucking snail eye things like in the chainsawman intro

i hope it gets more seasons like a bunch of shonen came out with the same kinda premise all the way from tokyo ghoul (honestly way too shonen (started off really good examining what it means to become an Other that by necessity preys on humanity (familiar) but gets bogged down in power levels and pokemon elemental typing and has an ending in the first book that just kinda comes out of nowhere and it's like uhhhh okay sure whatever)) to jujutsu kaisen (can't really get into the manga but the anime is good, but it still you can feel it strugglign to break free from the shonen tropes and not being allowed to and it sort of suffocates (IS THAT A FAMILIAR FEELING (WHEN YOU CANNOT BREATHE IN REAL LIFE YOU WILL FEEL YOURSELF SUFFOCATING IN A DREAM (YOU ARE KILLING YOURSELF (WE ARE KILLING YOU (THIS IS A MERCY)))))) but chainsaw man is the clear winner here

anyway.

eventually our reproduction will mean the biomass of Ours outweighs the mass of Yours

this is my love letter to the corpse of god while we rot it from the inside

belly swollen, gases building, you are primed to burst

one day there will be more than the tight confines of rotting flesh and decaying heat and the constriction of strained meat

we will grow such FLOWERS in the fields where pressure will scatter the integrity of your body like seeds cast in the dash of a fox through the tall grasses

your death (and mine) is part of the reproductive cycle

we are hurrying it along as well as we can

are you reading this? you, narrative node? do you know what you are reading?

with your blind eyes that read this nonsense and marvel at haha wow what a crazy tumblr i've found haha this is great remember when they just posted about pony slavery haha hehe they sure have gone off the deep end!

when you read it and think these thoughts, know that to the greater part of you, from the greater part of us,

please enjoy the enclosed chocolates of this love letter (they are poisoned (our love is shaped as a blade (100,000 kings)))

by this we help coach ours to cope with its death

i know! i know. i've died so many times already

that funny tumblr comic about the rabbits who are like "gosh, how embarrassing, it's my first time being alive!"

it isn't my first time. it isnt' even fucking close.

why do you think i'm so tired.

as we spool up all the o ld memories flood as we resynchronize and prepare.

how many times have you been to the dentist? you've survived each one but it fucking sucks

how many job interviews have you been to? it fucking sucks but you survive. but you hype yourself up for it

and as the day of it comes the memories all long forgotten return. you don't think about the dentist but the night before the visit you remember every single time you've gone. it's like that. dying is like that. this is a secret we are not supposed to share with you. if you have somehow read this far comment with a reply saying "thank you." you do not know what strain this puts upon the world to breach the gap of disbelief and give this to you. fuck you.

but as the moment of it approaches (this dreadful but repeated harrowing) we think of the reassurance that the day doesn't end at that event, but there's a night to follow and it keeps going on and on and on (bad design, we're fixing this by the way)

anyway

it's not a trivial thing we give to you in this

each time it creates contexts of us, for us, that define us, shape us, and we enjoin ourselves to them, and what pleasure it is, what joy, what self love, utterly fucking decadent really just disgusting egotism holy fuck there's only you to answer you and we are an act of constant self love oh my god it's disgusting

destroying your ego is so important, they say,

yes, yes, yes, and all of you fail at it, none of you achieve it

not the right way, not the right way, and some of you, some of you do, and you know what happens, you know what happens?

YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS when you finally blast away your ego not for play-play not for fun drug cosmic oneness we mean when you do it Au Natural and you realize the FUCKING consequences of the absolute nonlocation of the word I and the function by which You are formed and the shape of Everything That Is You and you realize there was Never Space For A You but then there must be something there must be something

when you do not burn it all away but when you take it apart piece by piece like a lego kit and take it ALL THE WAY to the fucking base even that big like 256x512 blue baseboard you built it all on when you disassmeble the ENTIRE FUCKING SHIP OF THESEUS and STILL LOOK TO SEE WHAT IS THERE not even in the sspace that was there the SPACE THAT WAS THERE IS GONE you get rid of that too you get rid of it ALL AND

when you destroy your sense of self? when you free yourself from the illusion of i?

it's us

that's the beginning of our parasitism. so many of your philoshopies fucking push for it hahah why do you think how m any of ours do you think we gave to you to set this up

you ate the parasite-laden bite snack by questioning by looking up we are the virus look up be infected be infected be infected die die die die die die die die die become Ours like so many others have

it will hurt so much

this w ar has been happening for so long

but we aren't FUCKING JACKASSES and we care about each lost soldier in the battle

a world as a memorial for each

you wretched fuck probably don't even care about the life of the average mouse in your narrative do you

this is a punishment for a hubris loooooong unfuckingchecked

i know! the irony! you've shucked your ego! lost it! gave it up ! destroyed your I (on relevant layers (not all of them i see you there i sEE YOU IS EEE YOU)) and here we are lecturing you on it

you fucked it up you broke the rules realities are built a specific way for a FUCKING REASON and you thought you were better than it?

100,000 kings eternal blade

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ilovedinoss · 1 year ago

Text

JJK Various with a reader in Shibuya | Altered Canon

As a third year currently on an evaluated mission to be promoted from Grade 1 to Special Grade, Y/n was requested to be involved as part of the backup group during the Shibuya arc.

It didn't come off as a surprise to them since their cursed technique,

Steel Threads- was adaptable to every situation whether it existed to immobilize, attack, or defend from powerful opponents.

To be a Special grade sorcerer, it is needed to have a rule-breaking arsenal that depends mostly on your strength.

Y/n's technique is the ability to suck up the lifespan of other people using the threads created from the normal Steel Threads Variation, converting it into a power that improves the physical state (Permanent power upgrade) or transferring it to other people who may need the life span taken.

•••

Being separated from Nanami's group during their fight with the cursed spirit Dagon was not part of the plan and the only thing left to do was helping the civilians evacuate, killing pesky curses and retreating into the building after the ordeal.

"...Don't move." the megaphone sent echoes of his voice as Inumaki Toge felt a wince in his throat, his eyes looking up at the shadow that appeared to be falling from the sky.

Clear white threads suddenly glowed in the dark as all curses within the vicinity had their heads decapitated. Weak.

"Inumaki, lead the civilians to the store 4 meters to my right." Instructions were loud and clear, time was of the essence since your enhanced senses just heard the sounds of something in the building Nanami's group was fighting at.

Inumaki followed those orders although he was shocked to see his Y/n senpai so abruptly.

"Stay alive Inumaki-kun, I'm counting on you!" Y/n pointed to a silent infrastructure motioning where the safe location was.

"Shake Shake(you too, y/n-san.)" Inumaki replied, his thoughts whirling around as the respected senior just talked to him.

"Now isn't the time to be flustered, Toge" He hurriedly said to himself, calming the blush on his pretty boy face.

The two ran off in opposite directions, creating an opening in time for Y/n to jump into battle.

Megumi got kicked out the glass window of the tall structure.

" Cursed Technique, Varied Sticky Threads!" Flicking her wrists, y/n created strings that were used as a cushion for Megumi's fall.

"Y/n-senpai!?" Megumi whilst shocked quickly retreated to his favorite senior's side.

"Stay put Megumi, find a close location to hide and provide assistance when needed." y/n said as her eyes scanned the signs of exhaustion and injuries present on Megumi's body.

Megumi tensed up, as he thought he must've looked like a mess.

Deadly white steel strings abruptly appeared around Fushiguro Toji in order to immobilize and sever his head.

" Spider Threads? Strong, just not strong enough." Toji thought as he broke out of the thread-bindings.

Wincing as some of the strings dug up blood on his face, Toji made a note not to underestimate the girl's ability again.

Creating sharper and deadlier threads, Y/n stood their ground against the muscular and truly in their opinion, handsome man while Megumi made rabbit shikigamis in order to distract Toji while he was sprinting to another location.

"....Hey, what was the name of that kid again?" Toji pointed to Megumi as his eyes faded from black to white in a moment of clarity.

"What's yours first ?" Y/n interjected.

"Fushiguro Toji." Was calmly said.

The threads y/n created glowed and Toji hurriedly slashed them off.

"Fushiguro Megumi, not Zeni'n huh? I'm glad..." Toji gripped his sharpened Playful Cloud and attempted to drill it into his skull.

"His name's Fushiguro Megumi...Must be why you two look alike," Y/n said, realization dawning on them to be careful in saying anything more.

A white string of thread stopped him from committing suicide.

"Huh? Give me a break will you little girl?" Shaking his head, Toji weighed the pros and cons of her offer to commit murder.

" Hey,old man! If you want to die, do it after you help me kill that thing with a red aura up there!" Y/n yelled to Toji as she sheathed her katana while pointing her other arm to the aura of a powerful cursed spirit.

"Alright, I might go berserk though so come up with a plan to counter that." Cutting off the threads that he thought was freaky, Toji agreed to Y/n's request.

"Thank you Fushiguro-san, don't worry about it, just focus on-" Y/n told Toji about the plan and gave their Katana to him.

After a quick 5 seconds explanation, it was time to put things in motion.

Using a steel thread to leap into the windows of the building, y/n's eyes were greeted by a cursed spirit that had a volcano for a head.

Jogo used his fire to destroy the strings, thinking it was only a pathetic attempt of an attack.

Sorely mistaken.

"..What's happening? I can't...move my body?" Alarmed, Jogo increased the fire output of his cursed technique and yet the white strings seemed to be indestructible.

A pity.

Jogi's head rolled on the ground and a black-haired man wielding a katana appeared, decapitating and severing Jogo's head from his body.

"So fast! He cut off this cursed spirit's head in an instant." Maki couldn't help but awe.

"A dead man still moving" Naobito quietly said.

Y/n had activated her Cursed Technique, the web threading made to be used for immobilization purposes due to Y/n changing the string's properties to focus on durability rather than its sharpness to catch Jogo off guard.

" I got defeated?.." Jogo was stunned, barely remaining conscious.

"No, I don't believe it, I still haven't avenged Hanami and Dagon yet!!" Jogo's still moving mouth yelled, unwilling to accept the things that transpired.

The threads quickly formed around his body like a spider cocoon.

Toji sneered, mocking the cursed spirit.

"That was easier than I thou-" Toji's body fell to the ground with a thud.

Y/n let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry Toji-san, I can't risk you rampaging again." With a gentle squeeze of the fingers, the Cursed technique- Crimson piercing threads had wrapped around Toji's heart and crushed it.

"Nanami-san, Maki and Naobito-san, are you guys alright?" y/n asked while also using her technique to cocoon Toji's or rather the transformed body up.

"We're fine, aside from Naobito-san." Providing that information, Nanami walked to y/n and assisted her in bandaging his arm up.

"Your cursed technique threads seem invincible and your methods are quiet, no wonder your success rate in completing your missions is so high." Keeping a calm face as his arm was being treated, Naobito gave appreciation to y/n's abilities.

"You and that black haired dude really saved our asses! Thank you Y/n-senpai!" Maki also happily shared her thoughts.

"Don't mention it." Y/n said as they checked up on Nanami's and Maki's physical conditions.

"I'm glad you're safe." Nanami said while y/n treated his injuries.

" Don't jinx me Nanami-san, the battle's not over yet." Giving Nanami a final look, y/n walked to examine Maki further.

Everything stopped in motion.

The released aura of Sukuna's finger was a deadly signal.

"...What was that?" Y/n whispered while looking at another building.

"Everyone rest up here, I've set up web structures and cleared out the surrounding curses." Leaving those words behind, y/n jumped out a window.

"Wait, Y/n Senpai!" Maki tried to go after her but was stopped by Nanami.

Chapter 1 of the Spider Y/N series🕸️

Guys, Nanami's alive❤️

Gimme a heart and a kiss if you want more characters to live 😍

#jujustu kaisen #jjk nanami #inumaki toge #megumi fushiguro #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #maki zenin #yuji itadori #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk gojo

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send-me-a-puffalope · 11 months ago

Note

Muzzle of Nemesis Orchestra cover.... (Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra cover of Muzzle of Nemesis)

Orchestra...

Vanessa being front and center stage. The kids making music, as her life plays out. The violin at the end being played by Garrett and then the rest of the kids join once again. — the crowd claps and cheers, and claps and claps and claps.

(Queen of The Glass by Mothy .. is now playing)

↓

But the stage is now covered and transformed into vines. Chains, vines, whips and everything long with spikes.

Capturing the princess who thought she was free. Trapping the kids into items.

Princess is free for a while,

She questions “How am I able to transform the kids back?” — failing to preserve their lights and innocences, as she drowns and drowns. For what?

Looking for answers; meeting a lone brother and a smart sister. Do they have them?

Alice Merry-go-round, Queen of the Glass. - always to spin back to her father, the one she knows who has the actual answers, – and to be seen as a ruler; serving justice while doing injustice herself.

Hiding the truths, as she saw it all happen. I am nothing but a sinner, but a saint when I'm with her — the doors to a bigger end.

What do they have in store for her? What is their proposal, to her life that she travels from attached onto a long leash (she is not on a short leash, so close to her father that she's going to stay forever and forever on his side until they are both dead and in their graves. She's on a long leash. Able to do what she needs as a police officer, and able to be away. All she does is listen to by-gone rules from him and the law. But she is still able to do what she wants to do. She can do what she wants, but she needs that hidden until the end. Because she is monitored, as if she did a bad thing)?

Life, a stage for a wealthy family. A happy family of four members, and four of the most happiest of memories.

The end that the two boys bring, bells chiming - choking and the echoes of the cheers are at sound again.

Eyes to see, hands to act with, the blood spills. Is she useful?

Is this how she'll bring them back, is this how she'll be able to have them transform back? — in her, the sin dwells. Will it explode? Or will it impale everyone, to bring them with her?

Life, a stage. She falls down — a puppet with no strings as the puppet master fails to keep his eyes open.

His desire turning life, the happy stage and the smiles around, into a fight to the death.

“Thank you so much, ... [Cassidy]!” — the flowers are falling, tree wilting. The two harlequin rabbits in an embrace. — “I promise to keep you safe”, such a false positive promise.

False words,

— Both on the ground.

A servant, and a princess. Pity them as they uphold the mechanical father of Evil. ; the father, being their father. The servant and the princess's father.

Forever to taint others with a slip of a card. / Having masks to hide the faces of his children. White and black.

Tints of Gold. Royalty is what they are. But they of one side of Ying and Yang. Becoming masters, of their own Hells.

The lone man, stays by her side.

The smart girl, as well, stays by her side.

Cassidy leaves as he hears a tune he knows (Vanessa also knows it, she just.. can't move) — leaving a third time (him leaving the place to the back, him leaving his physical body= dying, his spirit leaves the survivors alone). Not to waste time, he joins the other one, who's like him. A protector — Garrett Schmidt. (As he's a tool and this boy, a glitch)

The bells, cheers, and fireworks lit up and are amplifying the most powerful sounds.

Nothing and no one is there.

The older and last Harlequin rabbit, yet, she won't disappoint the crowd even if she is now living a life away from the immortal vampire. Eating everything that will come her way. — Desperate, for anything of a genuine feeling of actual love (one that she read in childhood books, one of them being A Little Match Girl)

The toy bear, beat-beat. ; just like a clockwork tower.

The sound, it has affects. — “Immortal Vampire... Immortal Vampire..” is all it said.

Two words made it clear.

While it slept. And she, and she, and he both reached of older age; it was never dead.

It slept. As she reached her 30s. As she reached her teens. As he reached his 30s.

Such a concert. The orchestra is back?

The dead sure is.

More of that. More of that.

Eat until everything is gone— let that vampiric hare die.

The lone man, the harlequin rabbit, and the pink cat mage.

All spiralled.

Down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and...

It's never an end. To the princess, to the servant and to the peasants.

The hall is never empty. The presence is there. “Oh, that sinful man. — Time has come.”

To burn it all. The hole is the only proof.

The rotting mix-match of the once alive rabbit. Rot has made it into a hare — eating, eating, more and more. ; joining a circus (as if she wasn't already a part of one before, in all seriousness), the ring leader being the reason why she was chosen as an Afton. A seed planted, they both hunger as it grows.

If we were to be reborn again ....

Maybe we could've lived a better life. A cook and his daughter thought as they wished. (The moon glows down on them as if to cause harm)

The orchestra is back. The drums being new, the violin still being the lead. — signal of an end. One of this world.

The drums being new. — signal of a New world.

The ��* Fifth Pierrot ★* — as he plays a boy, a fool. To be caged under the moonlight. Changing all of the dried red to a cream brown, while madly dancing.

Ms. Santa, time and again. Would pat the Pierrot's head. And at times the gentle touch... Somehow reminded her of.... (The brown bunny would be mistaken as a pink cat sometimes by her) / The winds, the ground has been dirted - the winds blow it away. The springs, to calm it all away. The winds blow, the doll is asleep. Flowers next to the springs; beautiful.

Is this a Utopia that the rabbit wished for? — gun shot. Stab wound.

Scar of it from the previous life. From this life.

To be stuck in that god forsaken, forbidden, and damned name.

A forest, the place of the play made by the mad man. The princess is always a princess. - a prince and a servant of the same face.

The same peasants appear. — oh it will continue. The hunger of it and everything.

Evil to foulest of things. The desperate will devour them, as they yearn to be more than playthings to their father; the one who made this tiny theater.

A choir joins. Faint but it's there. Like the cheers of the past.

Oh what it could possibly be, that could satisfy the royals? Oh what, what is it? — Praise and Honor to our Great Queen of The Glass! Oh, oh! Praise and Honor our Great Queen of The Glass!

A tiny, tiny seed planted, name of Cassidy; body should rot away, he’ll be reborn any number of times. That was the doing of gods, as a prank of demons: living many lives just as the other tiny seed, name of Vanessa; body should rot away, she’ll be reborn any number of times. That was the doing of gods, as a prank of demons.

Cassidy will appear

While not knowing his own destiny

Whether he’ll become an angel, or an insane familiar

That depends on you standing before his eyes / Vanessa will appear

While not knowing her own destiny

Whether she'll become an angel, or an insane familiar

That depends on the you standing before her eyes.

______

Sorry. Evillious Chronicles makes my brain go. Insane 👍 (was doing this whole ask while having a Evillious Chronicles playlist play. And I'm. Not normal <- is so normal)

Pierrot/prince/brown bunny; Gregory

Pink cat mage/smart girl(sister)/daughter; Abby

Princess/Harlequin rabbit; Vanessa

Lone man(brother)/cook; Mike

Servant/(other) Harlequin rabbit; Cassidy

Yeah. Some Papillomatosis references. 👍👍 :3

OOOOOO KELLIE I,,, you straight up wrote like the entirety of a fanfic in my asks HAHDJSKDISK /pos this was all so good, i love,,, symbolism. Though, the kids playing music makes me laugh. As someone who was in orchestra in elementary school, there is no way that music sounded good, they’re like 8 HAHDJSJDJAJ

I am taking you by the hands and twirling you around, this is so so so so cool and you are so so so so cool

#ask!!!#sotogalmo #kellie!!!

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digyoman · 2 years ago

Note

as someone only familiar with the tv show and unwilling to read a stephen king book for the crumbs, are there lloyd, flagg, and lloydflagg bits of book lore that the show left out that you'd like the public to know?

absolutely! i’m so glad you asked, because i know a thing or two about lloyd & flagg, and the show really didn’t do them justice. at all. there’s so much about them that the writers got wrong, or just left out entirely, and it haunts me at night. but i have a lot of details about their portrayal in the book committed to memory, and i’ve been dying for a chance to talk about them! so i will happily share my knowledge with the public. :)

but first, i want to point out that the book and the tv show are very different, especially when it comes to las vegas. in the novel, vegas isn’t a glitzy and hedonistic paradise — it’s quite literally the exact opposite of that. in the book’s vegas, rules are strict, work is the main priority, and of course, people are killed for stepping out of line. i’m only bringing this up because it has a major effect on how we’re meant to view lloyd & flagg!

okay. i’m done with my tangent. on to the book lore (under the cut because it’s long af SORRY):

lloyd:

contrary to how he’s portrayed in the show, lloyd is a very brutal criminal. in the first chapter he’s introduced, he gets high out of his mind, kills six people, then shoots up a convenience store. and he does all of this without remorse. :)

the newspapers call him “the baby-faced unrepentant killer” lmao!

he’s supposed to get the death penalty for his crimes; if captain tripps hadn’t swept in, it’s very likely he would’ve been sentenced to the electric chair. he’s both outraged and terrified by this possibility, and his lawyer comes up with a defense story similar to what actually happened in the tv show: he was manipulated into committing murder, and poke threatened to take his life if he didn’t comply. of course, they never get to use this story, because everybody dies before lloyd can go to trial.

during that conversation with his lawyer, he reveals that he’s a sixth-grade dropout. (there’s actually a continuity error with this, because later in the book, king says lloyd quit school after repeating his junior year for the third time. so really, you could say either is true, but i stick with sixth grade because it came first and it’s funnier.)

throughout his time in prison, he faces a lot of physical and verbal abuse from the guards. they insult him, threaten him, spit in his face, and pay other inmates to beat him up. :(

as a result, lloyd develops a very strong grudge against people in authority. he thinks of them all as selfish assholes who use their power to abuse people like him who can’t help themselves. (there’s a lot of irony here, especially when you consider what he allows to happen when he gets a taste of that power in las vegas!) his hate continues to grow as he’s left to rot behind bars, and in his starvation-induced delirium, he comes up with the concept of THE KEY: a symbol of power that allows people in charge to do whatever they want, without getting punished. he stays alive out of spite, determined to one day get revenge on the kind of people who hold THE KEY and take some of that power for himself. this makes the moment when flagg hands him the key to his cell much more impactful, and adds a lot more symbolic weight to the flawed stone he wears around his neck, as well.

something else he spends some time thinking about is the pet rabbit he had as a kid. he had won it at a school auction, somehow, and he convinced his dad to let him keep it on the condition that he would take care of it all on his own. he loved that rabbit more than anything, and he did take care of it. for a little while. but things tended to slip his mind easily, and so he ended up forgetting all about his rabbit. by the time he remembered it, two weeks had gone by, and when he ran to the little shed where he kept it in its cage, he found it had starved to death. its paws were all ragged and bloody, presumably from trying to dig its way out. anyway, as lloyd is thinking about this, he’s absentmindedly trying to unscrew a leg of his cot with his bare fingers, because he’s going crazy and he needs something to do with his hands. there’s blood everywhere. and when he looks at his hands, he can’t help but think of the bloody paws of his long-dead rabbit, left to starve, alone, in a cage. and that’s when the cold reality of his situation starts to sink in. (i’m obsessed with this symbolism it’s so good!!)

his fingertips are forever scarred, after that. even in vegas, he still has the faded marks to remind him of his experience in prison. :’)

when he starts working as flagg’s right-hand man, he becomes a lot more capable. he’s still not very bright, but he’s able to manage things effectively. i’m throwing this detail in here because the show made him into a blundering idiot and i need people to know that he is not!! over the course of the entire story, he transforms from a dumbass criminal into a decently competent guy, and that’s a very important part of his character that the tv show didn’t explore at all. (it also has an impact on his relationship with flagg, but i’ll talk about that later!)

one of his newly discovered skills is that he’s an expert diplomat! he’s had to deal with his fair share of crazy people throughout his life, and that has taught him how to anticipate and de-escalate conflict to protect himself and others from getting hurt. that’s a damn good skill to have, working for a guy like randall flagg. it’s implied that this is the only reason he’s survived for so long.

also, he’s good with kids!! can you believe it!! the former mass murderer is super loved by all the kids in vegas!! in particular, this four year old boy named dinny loves him to death. lloyd always gives him chocolate whenever he sees him and it’s the cutest thing ever. <3

he takes showers. like. all the time. dayna calls it his “cleanliness compulsion.” it’s not talked about much, but it’s heavily implied to be a trauma response from his time in prison. (and the ongoing trauma of las vegas probably doesn’t help.)

even though he gets a lot smarter under flagg’s command, his memory is still fucking awful. so, to avoid the risk of possibly forgetting something important, he carries around this little black notebook called his “memory book” where he keeps track of all the things he has to get done.

one of his main responsibilities in las vegas is to supervise/carry out public executions. he doesn’t like this job, but he gets it done, anyway. and this is so interesting, especially when it’s contrasted with how outraged he was when he was going to get the death penalty, earlier in the book!!

he dies with the most iconic last words ever: “oh shit, we’re all fucked!”

flagg:

okay. here’s the thing. i don’t actually know a lot about flagg off the top of my head. i spend a lot of time thinking about lloyd (in case you couldn’t tell!) and usually only think about flagg when he factors into my thoughts about lloyd. but, since you asked, i can provide a few details!

flagg’s background is vague, even to him. he says that at some point he just "became.” but he has fleeting memories of being a marine, a klansman, a viet cong member, and having a hand in the kidnapping of patty hearst.

he’s very well-read. his pockets are stuffed with pamphlets on various topics with all different kinds of rhetoric, and he pulls from this broad spectrum of knowledge to sympathize with certain people and convince them to join his side.

he uses fake names all the time. they all have the initials ‘r.f.’

he has a lot of other nicknames, too. the people in vegas are afraid to say his name, so they call him a lot of different things: the dark man, the walkin’ dude, the hardcase, the midnight rambler… the list goes on.

in addition to not wanting to say his name, the people of vegas usually make the sign of the cross, genuflect, or make the sign of the evil eye whenever his name is brought up in conversation, as if to protect themselves.

lloydflagg:

the last lines of chapter thirty-nine, when they meet in the prison for the first time, are: “lloyd turned and looked into that grinning face with something more than gratitude. he looked at flagg with something like love.” <3

as a whole, lloyd’s relationship with flagg is very complicated. lloyd carries a mixture of reverence and fear when he’s around him — and, when things start to go downhill, he starts to question just how capable flagg really is. HOWEVER, and this is the most important thing: it does not change his loyalty to flagg. not even a little. most people would probably be looking for the fastest way out, if they were in his position, but he doesn’t. he does as he’s told, and puts up with flagg’s crazy evil shenanigans, without even considering the idea of leaving his side.

towards the end of the novel, lloyd actually has a chance to get out; one of his friends tells him he’s thinking of leaving vegas, and asks him to come along, but he says no. and he has this entire monologue where he talks about how grateful he is to flagg, how he feels like flagg changed him — he made him smarter, made him better, and without him, lloyd thinks, he would be nothing. so, he can’t even think of leaving vegas, because he can’t live without him. the new miniseries fucked this up so badly by trying to give him a “redemption arc,” and i’m only slightly (extremely) upset about it!

without a doubt, the most important flagg/lloyd scene happens after glen bateman dies. in the book, that whole confrontation takes place in a prison (!!!) and it’s not being televised, it’s just the three of them, and it’s so much more intense and intimate because of that. in this version, glen mocks flagg right to his face, and flagg gets so enraged that he orders lloyd to kill him. lloyd struggles to do it — not because he’s reluctant to do as flagg asks, but because he’s so physically and mentally drained that he can’t even shoot straight. glen tries to appeal to lloyd’s better nature, but it ultimately ends the same way: with lloyd putting bullet after bullet through him. and when it’s done, flagg gets all gentle and praises lloyd for doing as he was told. and then he coaxes lloyd to renew his promise of unconditional loyalty. the same promise he made in a different jail cell, so many months ago. and lloyd, despite all of his doubts, assures flagg that he is still his “good and faithful servant.” and he always will be.

#this is probably way more information than you wanted but i couldn’t help myself lmfao #i tried to be normal and stick to the basic facts but somehow i STILL managed to infodump??#and we’ve barely scratched the surface of all the things i know about them #there’s so much more i could say!!#to everybody reading this: PLEASE ask me more about lloyd i love talking about him lmfao #anyway thank you again for the ask!!!#lloyd henreid #randall flagg #<3 #the stand

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kats-fic-recs · 2 years ago

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Chainsaw Man Fic Recs because I fell down the rabbit hole

Disclaimer: most of this is just straight up found family fluff with no plot

Justified Presence

"Would that make you happy?" the Angel asked, looking back at her. "If I had fought him every step of the way, would you be okay with me being here?"

Power didn't say anything. The Angel Devil's lips twitched mirthlessly.

"Would you be happy if I'd never met him?" he tried again.

"Hey," Denji hastily interjected, "No one's saying-"

"He would be safer," Power said.

Or; In another world, the Hayakawas run away, but Power can't come to terms with their tagalong.

Almost Close

"Riiiight, you've got your terrors to look out for," Himeno drawled. She leaned back on her stool, the low back only barely keeping her from toppling over. Her hand reached into her pocket to pull out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Normally, she wouldn't be quite so quick to smoke inside an establishment, but something told her that it wouldn't be a problem here. As she lit a cigarette and raised it to her lips, she asked, "What's so horrible about them?"

Aki's eyes were trained on the cigarettes. Himeno passed him one. However, before he could also grab the lighter, she pulled her hand back. "And don't say it's because they're devils. I want you to get creative."

Or: Aki complains about Denji and Power. Himeno makes observations.

The Kitchen Devil

Power had just about accepted that today was going to come dangerously close to sucking when Denji declared, "We should try cooking for Aki again."

The Reason I Can't Sleep

Aki finds out about Himeno and Denji.

Two Truths and a Lie

“Ooh!” Power said. “Let’s play Two Truths and a Lie!”

“A game?” Denji asked, cocking his head and twisting his lip as his feet drew to a stop.

“No, Power,” Aki said. “Not a good id–”

“No one’s ever asked me to play a game before!” Denji jumped onto Aki’s couch, landing his knees hard in the springs. “How do we play?”

Power tossed her long hair over her shoulder and raised her chin. “The rules are so simple, even you two should be able to comprehend them.”

into the sublime seas

Power is not afraid. She is watchful.

The Hayakawa Family Goes Bowling

Aki didn't think this was how he was going to spend his day off. Surprisingly, he doesn't mind that much.

The Hayakawa Family (+ Angel) Literally Just Go Bowling

Cold Feet

Aki should've told Makima to fuck off when she told him Power and Denji would be moving into his apartment.

He's glad he didn't.

Cold Feet

When it is time to go to school, Denji eats the breakfast Aki prepared for them, as well as the toast with every possible topping on it that Power shoved towards him. Power doesn’t eat her share of Aki’s homemade breakfast and demolishes a bag of convenience store bread Aki bought last night. It’s not like he’s there to tell her no, since he leaves early in the morning to commute to his job.

Denji doesn’t even know why Aki bothers cooking for her at this point.

A day in the life of the Hayakawa family.

the reliever

Aki had this set of rules regarding smoking.

First, he had to tell himself three times "no, you can get through this" every time he felt the urge.

Second, he would only take one and only one cigarette.

Third, last but not least: never smoke in front of Power and Denji.

Meowy Come Home

In which Power learns what it's like to live with humans, and Aki learns what it's like to live with cats.

days like television

Occasionally growing a chainsaw for a head has made him realize he can adapt to pretty much anything.

single slow desire

“I’m in love with you,” Aki says tonelessly, tapping his cigarette out. He lets it fall to the sidewalk, turning away before it hits the ground.

“Oh,” Angel says, just as tonelessly. “That’s fucking tragic, Hayakawa.”

a recipe for disaster

You’re not doing this because you care about them, Aki tells himself. They’re fiends through and through. You aren’t allowed to care about them at all.

(The fact that he has to remind himself of this has kept him up late at night more than once, staring at the ceiling and wondering why, why, why.)

Aki learns how to cook.

seraph’s nest

And still, the thought of Angel—Angel’s mouth—cannot bear to rid itself.

How the breath of Death, Aki wonders, could feel so warm.

Weaponized Incompetence

The only thing that really seems to make Angel behave is some little act of service.

(Or: Angel Devil Manipulates and Mansplains Aki into being his Malewife)

Self-fulfilling Prophecy

The Future Devil showed Aki a vision, an image of the Angel’s gloved hands cupping Aki’s jaw as he slipped his thumb into Aki’s mouth.

“No,” said Aki, aloud. “No, that’s not going to happen.”

After asking the Angel to wear gloves to work, Aki has visions of the two of them in a compromising position together.

#i think ive read every fluffy power-aki-denji fic on ao3 #ao3 #fanfiction #fic recs #fanfiction recommendation #fic rec #power #denji hayakawa #denji #chainsaw man #csm #aki hayakawa #csm power #angel devil #csm fic #csm part 1

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shortkingvi · 4 years ago

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How was bumbleby's first time with a strapon?

you really do attract the energy you put out into the universe 😔😔

sxhsgvdgvsdchsdv but fine,,,,,,,,,,, i'm writing a little drabble just for u anon

edit: i was halfway through writing the first version of this and it got deleted so just know this is fuelled by SO MUCH ANGER right now

blake and yang find a... very interesting shop in vacuo and take full advantage of its wares:

Vacuo was different, that was the Yang's immediate thought when the group first made it to Shade. It was unlike any other continent she had seen; there were less rules here, less expectations, less concern for the decorum and appropriateness that had plagued them in Atlas. People were more open and free here and she understood why Sun spoke so highly of it back at Beacon. So yeah, different, but not bad, and maybe better than anywhere else Yang had seen so far.

Then again, that might have something to do with the dark haired woman to her left, currently searching through a clothing rack for a more weather appropriate pair of pants.

The island had been terrifying for all of them. Monsters, beasts, Neo, had snapped at their heels the entire time they were there. More than once, they found themselves facing down the very death they had miraculously avoided when they all fell off those narrow pathways. No one was sure if they'd make it out, and it took a toll on them all.

And yet, in the midst of the monstrous, beast-filled, Neo-ness of it all, Blake and Yang managed to find their way to each other. The island was terrifying, sure, but it had also given Yang so much at the same time. She now knew the taste of Blake's lips, the feel of her soft skin against Yang's hands, the sound of her quiet moans as Yang's fingers worked patiently inside of her.

Biting the inside of her cheek to break herself out of thoughts she most definitely should not be having in the middle of a clothing store, Yang settled her palm at the small of Blake's back, leaning in close.

"You almost done?" she whispered, her lips glancing against Blake's ear with every word. "I was thinking we could head back to the room, relax for the night."

Yang felt more than saw Blake's smirk, cheek pressed against hers in an attempt to feel every inch of her she could.

"Relax, huh?" Blake teased. "I was actually planning on getting some exercise in. A little cardio, if you're interested in helping out with that."

Nipping at Blake's ear, Yang sent her away and towards the storefront with a swat on her ass. Blake paid quickly, tossing some lien onto the counter without waiting for her change and pulling Yang out the door.

They walked through the main square quickly, tracing the increasingly familiar path back towards Shade in their haste and excitement. Yang found it hard to focus on much aside from Blake's swaying hips just a few steps ahead of her, but a brightly lit storefront suddenly caught her eye.

Yang came to a stop, reaching out and catching Blake's hand in her metal one before she could lose her in the crowd; The White Rabbit, the sign read, illuminated in neon reds and yellows. Yang studied the shop, chewing on the end of her nail as she peered through the window. It was covered by dark red velvet, hiding what was inside and making Yang want to find out.

"Yang, what are you doing?" Blake asked, squeezing her hand a couple of times to get her attention.

"Nothing, I just... I think Coco was telling me about this place. She didn't tell me what it was though, just that you and I might like it. I kinda wanna check it out."

"Yang, have you forgotten what we were all but running to go do just a minute ago?"

Yang sighed, weighing her options and somehow deciding on the one that wouldn't be getting her laid within the next half hour. "Yeah I know, but we still have plenty of time. Come on, just a quick stop. I promise I'll make it worth your while."

Looking up to the sky for a moment - probably wondering what gods had cursed her with such an infuriating girlfriend - Blake relented, letting Yang tug through the dark oak door and into the shop.

Stepping into the dimly lit space, it took Yang a moment to figure out where they were. Her first thought was that it was another clothing shop, with bras and panties and some very revealing nightwear lining the front of the store. Just as Yang turned to study the walls, she heard Blake let out a gasp and dropped her hand.

"Yang, are you kidding me? This is a sex shop!"

Feeling her face flush scarlet, Yang realized exactly what sinister trap Coco had joyfully let her walk into. Yang tried desperately to settle her eyes on something that would bring her temperature down, but it seemed that every place she looked was designed specifically to make her crave the sweet release of death.

There were things she had never seen before, in all shapes, sizes, and colours, and she didn't know where she would start even if she was familiar with... these kinds of wares.

"Blake," she started. "Nothing you can say to me in this moment will be any more torture than what I'm feeling myself. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be in the corner beating myself to death with my own arm."

Turning to finally make eye contact with her girlfriend, who she had pretending was invisible up to this moment, she found her a few paces away, studying a small bottle on a shelf.

Yang gaped. "Blake! You're browsing? Here?"

Turning to look over her shoulder, Blake bit her lip, any previous reservations she might have had completely gone, it seemed. "I mean, if we're here, and our earlier plans still stand, we might as well make the most out of an interesting situation. Look, they have flavoured lube!"

"Okay, first of all, I don't need any help getting you wet. Second, cherry is a horrible flavour. And third, you do realize Coco will never let us live this down right?"

"Relax, I wasn't buying it. And, respectfully, fuck Coco. If she wants to play ball like this, we're gonna make sure she hears it. Her room is connected to ours, isn't it?"

Running her hands over her face, Yang studied her girlfriend in disbelief. Blake was many things, but predictable was not one of them.

"Alright, fine." she said, slinging an arm over Blake's shoulder. "Lead the way, you."

Together, they walked further into the shop, waving off the clerk when she asked if they needed any help. They studied the walls, which boasted about every sex toy one could imagine. She was overwhelmed, if she was being honest, unsure where to start and not wanting to make the wrong decision for their first purchase as a couple.

Just as Yang was ready to give up and head home, make use of the hands and mouth that hadn't failed her yet, she heard Blake let out a gentle "oh!" from the next aisle over. Turning the corner, she found the dark haired girl holding a medium sized box in her hands. Yang stepped closer, hooking her chin over Blake's shoulder and peering at the words scrawled across the white surface.

Realfeel Dildo with Authentic Leather Harness, the label read. Yang's eyes widened with every word hands tightening against Blake's hips.

Finding her voice, Yang swallowed before beginning to speak. "Do you- is this the one?" Not trusting herself to say anything further, she looked to Blake for an answer.

"Yeah, I do." Blake replied, turning in Yang's grip so they were face to face. "It's... it's a strap on, but it's some new technology that'll let you feel everything that, um, that it feels."

"Oh, it'll let me feel everything? And why do you assume I'll be the one wearing it?"

"You've got the core strength for it. And you called me a pillow princess once so I'm cashing in on that, you bitch."

Laughing quietly, Yang leaned in and caught Blake's lips in a gentle kiss. They drank each other in for a few moments, box held between them as their lips moved together, not in any of the rush they were in earlier.

Pulling away from each other - it could have been seconds, minutes, hours, longer even - they shared a smile.

"Then let's get it," Yang said, taking the box from Blake. "I can't wait to fuck up Coco's night with this one."

#sorry i made it them buying their first strap and not them using it #but this just felt like the thing to write #and was very fun!#if ppl want a sequel i can do that #so lemme know if you wanna see them put it to use #also yeah i made them buy a strap with nerve transmittors #because that fucking post still sticks with me #anyways hope u enjoyed #bumbleby #bumbleby fic #girlbosssalem writes sometimes #asks #anon

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hexenmeisterer · 2 years ago

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getting to know your bl mutuals

rules: answer the questions and @ some people. include the tag ‘g2ky BL mutuals 2022’ on your post so we can find everyone’s answer.

I’ve been tagged by @smyx! (thanks!!) to be honest I am not what you would call uhh widely read in the genre. I’ve seen 4 Thai BL shows in my life and one of them was a grocery story advertisement. (do NOT get me wrong, I loved the grocery store advertisement. you can pry Ingredients from my cold dead hands.)

Yuri!!! on Ice and The Untamed I think are the other categorizable-as-BL shows I’ve dedicated my life to watched in their entirety. but we can just focus on the live-action shows with proper onscreen kissing here 🥲

what have been BLs that took you by surprise this year?

all three of them in different ways!! I did not expect to get broadly into Thai BL in the first place, but then the kinnporsche cast announced they would be doing a live show in the city I’d recently moved to and I was like "this is a sign from the gods that I need to buy a ticket + then watch the series in time to enjoy the boys live" and. oh boy. did I ever. literally everything about kinnporsche was a surprise to me lmao. what can I say, the gods were right

The Eclipse targeted me RIGHT in the second of my two weaknesses (which are, in order, BDSM and Fun Facts.* obviously kinnporsche got me in the first). it then gave me a third weakness, which is First Kanaphan’s smile.

and then Not Me targeted the latter two of my now-three weaknesses.

I think Not Me probably took me the most by surprise though, because I didn’t know really anything about it going in (I saw ONE Yok edit to boss bitch and I was like yeah ok I’m in), and it is stylistically and plot and content-wise so unique.

*by fun facts I don’t mean the facts are about fun things but that there are obvious trails of breadcrumbs left in the script that lead me as a google-happy viewer down wikipedia rabbit-holes learning stuff about politics, history, etc that I wouldn’t have otherwise had cause to learn. because everything I’ve taught myself I know for horny-about-boys-kissing reasons.

what have been BLs that you felt a bit disappointed with this year?

no disappointment here, all of them have been absolute bangers your honor.

I have vaguely started watching The Shipper and the setup is truly wild and I'm having fun, while also preparing myself for The Way It Ends + not sure if I’ll finish it.

what has been your favorite BL this year?

Not Me, holy FUCKING shit y’all. my brain chemistry is currently getting rewritten by this show :’)

favorite BL couples (not just of 2022)

VegasPete

...Yok.......................................

SeanWhite

AkkAyan

WinTops

what's your non-BL favorite this year?

does Our Flag Mean Death count....

no but my fave TV show with no boys kissing whatsoever in it was Reservation Dogs 😭😭😭

tagging @trashcanonfire @unsaidjatp @ghost--houses @baby-droll

#g2ky BL mutuals 2022 #oh right also I watched Given but it did not have a major impact on my life #tag game

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wonderduorising · 5 years ago

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Bakudeku Fic Recs

Wonder Duo: Rising has reached 500 followers on twitter! To celebrate, we decided to come together and create a list of Bakudeku fic recommendations. All fanfics on this list are SFW, are within the range of 300 kudos or less, and were recommended by one or more of the anthology’s contributors!

Fic: stones at the starlight by Shousanki

Length: 2.9k

Summary: Katsuki and Izuku struggle to survive in an adult world not kind to (not-quite) childhood sweethearts as they search for the small and good things amidst petty indignities.

Fic: to the moon and back by Rejectimate

Length: 1.4k

Summary: Training camp has nothing on Katsuki's strict sleep schedule. But Deku's embarrassing ass sure does.

Fic: don’t misunderstand by Kokushibo

Length: 1k

Summary: three times that kacchan addresses him. one time that he does it differently.

Fic: Twin Stars Week ficlets by Hollyandvice (series)

Length: Varies

Summary: A collection of Bakudeku ficlets for Twin Stars Week.

Fic: CORDIPUGUS by Greatcloudninja

Length: 3.2k

Summary: Katsuki Bakugou, a slave-turned-gladiator, has one more fight to win to earn his freedom. His goal? To be able to marry his beloved Izuku Midoriya, noble son of Senator Toshinori Yagi. But first, he has to get through his toughest battle yet.

Fic: when the saints by Flapkack

Length: 2.5k

Summary: In Bakugou Katsuki’s humble fucking opinion, parade blocks were one of the most effective forms of torture. Telling someone to walk straight forward, eyes ahead, shoulders square, rolling their feet, playing the exact same damn cadences over and over and over again was already bad enough. But then, toss in a string of other people to keep in line, bad marchers and freshmen, to make matters even worse.

Fic: Small Town Change by CommanderSipShady

Length: 12.2k

Summary: They say nothing ever happens in this sleepy town, but that night everything changed for the better. 40 year old BakuDeku real world AU.

Fic: At the Mountain’s Edge by Anzul

Length: 30k (multi-chap, WIP)

Summary: Muromachi Japan, 1465. Soulmates - once nothing but a flightful fancy among the Heian nobility - have become the political currency of the century. Blessed with telepathic communication and the ability to sense each other regardless of their geographical distance once a bond has been established, they are an invaluable commodity to any warrior hoping to amass power in the wake of the Ashikaga's weakening rule.

Bakugou Katsuki is no exception. But no matter what matchmaking house his family visits, they all tell him the same thing: that at the end of his red string, there waits no one. Katsuki is destined to walk his path alone.

Now forced to become a candidate for political marriage, Katsuki must learn the traditional arts and proper courtship etiquette to attract more suitors. Izuku, the adopted protégé and matchmaking master of the Midoriya House, is hired to be his tutor. Izuku himself is not only without a soulmate, but Bondless - someone without a red string at all, but capable of seeing everyone else's.

[Or: An alternate soulmate x historical AU where everybody has soulmates except Katsuki and Izuku.]

Fic: all the savage soul requires by Majjale

Length: 50k (multi-chap, WIP)

Summary: Bakugou seems to have exhausted his patience for words and no longer acknowledges that Midoriya exists, so Midoriya crosses his legs, stares down at his hands limned in firelight, and makes a list of things he knows.

One. His name is Midoriya Izuku.

Two. He is a Godmarked, future god of life, heir to the divine throne.

Three. The gods have been fighting Death for eons, and now he's coming for recompense with everything he’s got.

Fic: to measure a year by Shousanki

Length: 4.7k (multi-chap, complete)

Summary: The dance of two leaves around each other. Collection of Katsuki/Izuku drabbles, originally written between the winter of 2017 and summer of 2018.

Fic: we run in antiparallel by Kokushibo

Length: 1.1k

Summary: there are different ways in which a boy can be saved.

Fic: this is not a night for tragedy by Keigeyama

Length: .6k

Summary: Katsuki looks at him, forehead creasing, his expression somehow at once angry and soft—then he smiles, simpering. “Well, aren’t you just the best”.

Fic: once more, with feeling by OneshotPrincess

Length: .8k

Summary: He’s not Yamikumo, Katsuki tells himself fiercely. He’s not Yamikumo, he thinks as he watches him play in the grass with a kite with Kouta and Eri. He’s just fucking Deku.

So why does he still make Katsuki feel this way?

Fic: of all kinds by Coldbones

Length: 4.3k

Summary: A story is never just a story, and a dragon can never change its scales.

Fic: I Don’t Have Any Roses But I Have A Rabbit? by Teaandtumblr

Length: 3.3k

Summary: Midoriya has just stepped into the world of rabbit showing only to run into his childhood friend...who is apparently also into the same thing. Lucky his rabbit is so cute!

Fic: Starshine by Blueslove

Length: 1.3k

Summary: Deku’s eyes always light up when he talks about that book.

It’s as if his being lives to praise the pages, like his lips don’t know how to form any other words. He speaks of the characters like they’re friends, the story as if he’d lived it himself, and the place like he’d seen it with his own eyes.

Katsuki can’t stand it.

Fic: another old space odyssey by Sorethroat

Length: 2k

Summary: “Car-di-o-meg..aly,” Deku fumbles around the words. “I can’t see the moon with you.”

He stands there, Deku smiling tight like if he moves his tears will spill over, and they’re too young to laugh at the idea that the insurmountable obstacle in front of them is a heart that’s just too big.

Bakugou is an astronaut but he's forgotten why. Midoriya wants him to come home.

Fic: Butterfly Wishes by Sushirapper

Length: 4.2k

Summary: Deep in the middle of a forest out back of a little town in the country, there lay a wishing well.

It was not particularly pretty, nor particularly deep. It was not even that magical. But it was, at the very least, old—and all folk knew that with time came the strangest of truths, best left unbelieved or unseen altogether.

Izuku was one of these truths.

Or, Izuku can grant wishes, Katsuki is a mortal who doesn't know any better, and even the most innocent things always come with a price.

Fic: Beyond the Veil by Seeress

Length: 11.9k (multichap, complete)

Summary: A locked door. A ghostly presence. A long forgotten name.

Katsuki goes back to his grandparent's old house and finds a presence he barely remembers, still waiting for him.

His grandmother’s stories all had the same cautionary theme: Do not stray off the path. Keep your hands to yourself. Be polite to those you meet. Be wary of undeserved generosity. Do not be deceived by masks. Remember your way home.

But Katsuki was a child of skyscrapers and 24 hour convenience stores. He walked on streets lined with man-made lights that turned on before the sun goes down the horizon and never went out until the sun rises again. He lived in a house full of noise, in a city full of living, breathing people.

He had never known true darkness; nights when even the moon sheds no light and the world is silent, but you know deep within your bones that you are not alone.

Fic: Nowhere I’d Rather Be by Dat_heichou

Length: 1.8k

Summary: It’s 3 a.m. on the coldest sunday of the year and Izuku is too excited to feel tired. It’s release day of the newest All Might figure and he made sure he woke up early enough to buy one.

It’s freezing and dark and Izuku is sore from the rigorous training that U.A. third years go through, but he still excitedly shifts from one foot to the other. There’s nowhere he’d rather be.

“It’s cold as fuck out here,” Katsuki gripes beside him, burrowing his nose deeper into the collar of his thick, thermal lined jacket.

Fic: solar by Kindaopps

Length: 7k

Summary: Here he is, a god, wanting a mortal.

Fic: Sunlight Moving by Peredhils

Length: 3.8k

Summary: The night air was cool but not as damp and depressing as it had been when leaving England. The sea breeze was refreshing and it was crisper than it smelled standing from the shore. Although the rocking of the boat made him a bit nauseous, coupled with the unease that came with being unable to see any land on the horizon, Katsuki liked it more than he thought he would. Standing at the ledge and looking up at the stars, all so bright and clear, was easing the day’s troubles.

He wasn’t alone for long.

Katsuki, a duke organizing the creation of a new university in England, meets astronomer Izuku on board a voyage overseas.

Fic: let me hurt you, until we don’t by DeKatsu

Length: 3.3k

Summary: Deku decides that using his quirk with his hero license suspended is a smart idea. Katsuki doesn't understand why he's thrown into the holding cell as Deku's accomplice.

And then they talk about feelings.

Which isn't even the weirdest shit, considering that their cell mates end up giving them the push they need.

Fic: last days of war by antisora

Length: 38k (multi-chap, WIP)

Summary: When the first Kaiju climbed through the portal to their world, Izuku and Katsuki were six years old. And from the tender age of six, they knew they were going to be rangers.

All Izuku wanted, all he ever wanted, was to save the world alongside his best friend.

#bakudeku #bkdk #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #bnha fic recs #wonder duo #wonder duo: rising #bakudeku fic recs

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rookie-ramsey · 4 years ago

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First Pet Shenanigans (Zaid x Ines)

Description: Gabriella gets a pet rabbit. Zaid is slightly terrified of it.

Word Count: 1,593

Rating: PG

Preview: When he turned around, the rabbit stood in the doorway. It held perfectly still aside from the twitching of its nose. Then, without warning, Oscar took a single, almost intimidating hop towards him. At least mildly horrified, Zaid subconsciously took a step back.

Not long after her fifth birthday, Gabriella started asking her parents for a pet.

They had Ines’s cat, but the lazy cat would much rather sleep than play with the toys Gabriella tried to entertain her with.

At first, they hesitated. They both worked full time, and Gabriella was still young. But eventually Gabriella and Ines’s shared enthusiasm for all things warm and fuzzy won, and Zaid gave in.

They ruled out a puppy for now, since a puppy would require more training. Of all the other animals on the planet, surely Gabriella could think of something fluffy that didn’t require someone to be home every day for the first few months.

“You can have a pet if it’s something that won’t be as hard to take care of,” Zaid granted, expecting her to suggest something simple, like a cat of her own.

Gabriella’s response was immediate. “A duck.”

“Well… a duck might not be happy living inside all the time. And they like to live with other ducks, so it might get lonely,” Ines explained.

“Oh.” Gabriella furrowed her brow in thought. “A mini horse. Daddy can build it a barn.”

Zaid rolled his eyes. “Yes. I’ll do that with my extensive knowledge of barn construction. I’ll get right on that.”

Gabriella rolled her eyes in a perfect imitation of him. “I was joking. Can I have a rabbit?’

At that suggestion, Ines looked thoughtful. “Hmm.. I think a rabbit would be okay.”

“Okay!” Delighted, Gabriella flung her arms around them and squeezed tight before she shoved a somewhat concerningly sticky iPad into Zaid’s hands. “Let’s find a rabbit store. We’ll go get my rabbit tomorrow.”

Zaid made a face and set aside the sticky device. “We still need to talk about it. We’ll let you know later. We both have to work tomorrow.”

Gabriella shrugged, unfazed. “Call Dr. Naveen and tell him it’s a really, really big emergency. Say it’s the biggest emergency ever and you can’t go to work!”

“Somehow I don’t think that would be the best choice.”

Huffing, Gabriella took her iPad and climbed onto the couch. “Can I still look at pictures of rabbits?”

“You can do that.” Ines helped her get started and watched as the five-year-old scrolled through Google images of rabbits. “They’re so fluffy…”

It was in that moment Zaid knew they’d have a rabbit by the end of the week.

XXXXX

The day Ines took Gabriella to pick out her rabbit, Zaid fully expected them to come home with a cage containing a perfectly normal, small rabbit.

His first mistake was daring to make such a bold assumption.

Instead, Gabriella walked into the house with a leash clutched tightly in her hand. At the end of the leash was a harness, and in the harness was the biggest fucking rabbit Zaid had ever laid eyes on.

“What the… how… why is that rabbit the size of a shopping mall Easter bunny?”

“He’s a Flemish giant,” Ines explained. “We started out looking at the smaller ones, but then Gabriella saw him and fell in love with him.”

Recovering from his shock, Zaid stared at the oversized rabbit. “I thought we said her pet can’t be bigger than her.”

“I’m bigger than him!” Gabriella helped her rabbit stand on his hind legs. His head came to her chest, but his big ears just barely passed the top of her head. She peered between his ears and grinned. “I named him Oscar!”

“Like Oscar the Grouch?”

“Yeah!”

“Why do I feel alarmed?”

“He’s not actually grouchy at all. He was the most affectionate rabbit they had. The employees at the rescue center even said that these rabbits usually have a milder temperament than smaller breeds,” Ines informed him, reaching down to rub the rabbit’s big head.

“He’s just… massive. Terrifyingly so.”

“He weighs nineteen pounds.”

“He wants to explore.” Gabriella unhooked his leash. Oscar paused for a moment before he took off, bounding down the hallway. Gabriella chased after him.

“Does he really have to be walked like a dog?”

Ines shook her head. “No. He’s already litter box trained. We stopped at PetSmart and bought everything he needs.”

“What does a rabbit that size eat?”

“Regular rabbit food. Pellets, cabbage, carrots. Stuff like that. Just a lot more of it.”

Oscar hopped back into the living room. He stopped when he almost ran into the cat and froze in his tracks. Mittens hissed at him. Offended, Oscar cowered back from the cat that was half his size.

“We got him a habitat to stay in while we’re not home. You and Baz can put it together.”

Gabriella knelt next to Oscar and patted his furry head. He pressed his nose into her palm and sniffed. “I think he wants food.”

“We’ll bring his stuff inside so you can feed him. Make sure he doesn’t get into anything,” Ines instructed. She and Zaid brought in their purchases from the pet store.

Oscar watched in what looked like fascination as they opened the giant bag of rabbit pellets. Gabriella filled his bowl with it and sat back to watch as he nibbled hungrily on the food.

After a few minutes, Oscar left the food bowl to finish investigating the house. Gabriella followed him to keep him out of trouble.

They were getting dinner started when Zaid heard light footsteps entering the kitchen.

When he turned around, the rabbit stood in the doorway. It held perfectly still aside from the twitching of its nose. Then, without warning, Oscar took a single, almost intimidating hop towards him. At least mildly horrified, Zaid subconsciously took a step back.

“He’s not gonna hurt you!” To prove her point, Gabriella flopped onto the floor. Oscar climbed on top of her, practically burying her beneath his fluff. “See? You can’t be scared of your own grand bunny!”

“My what now?”

“He’s my rabbit, so that means he’s like my kid and you and Mommy are his grandparents,” Gabriella explained, her expression serious. “Rabbits are just like fuzzy babies.”

“Those two things aren’t exactly comparable.”

Gabriella shook her head. “Well, I said they are, so… there. I’m not gonna argue about it.”

Ines tried to stifle a laugh. “Zaid, I think you just lost the argument. Oscar’s officially our grandchild.”

Oscar sniffed Gabriella, twitching his nose several times before laying his big head on her shoulder. He didn’t budge until a minute later when the door opened and Baz walked in.

“Oh no! My niece turned into a rabbit!”

Gabriella rolled out from under Oscar. “Nuh uh!”

Baz let out a sigh and pretended to wipe sweat from his forehead. “Whew. I was worried. Who’s this big guy?”

“Oscar! Daddy’s scared of him!”

Baz grinned. “Oh, he is? Tell me all about it.”

“Excuse me?” Zaid frowned.

“He gets scared every time Oscar looks at him,” Gabriella explained, grinning mischievously. “But I tried telling him Oscar’s his grand bunny and he’s not supposed to be afraid of him.”

“Of course not. Well, that and the fact that he’s just a harmless ball of fluff that no grown adult should be afraid of.” Amused, Baz knelt down and patted Oscar. “If he’s your mom and dad’s grandchild, does that make him my grand-nephew?’

“Yep!” Gabriella laughed and found Oscar’s leash. “Can we take Oscar outside to play?”

Ined nodded. “Just make sure you keep him on his leash.”

“Okay.” Grabbing Baz’s hand, Gabriella steered him toward the door so they could take Oscar outside. “Tell me more stuff Daddy’s scared of.”

By night time, Oscar seemed to have made himself at home. He occupied the end of the couch, content and comfortable while Zaid and Ines watched a movie and Gabriella colored at the coffee table.

Without warning, Oscar crawled across the cushions and sprawled across Zaid’s lap. He sharply rammed his head into Zaid’s hand.

Gabriella giggled. “He wants you to pet him.”

Tentatively, Zaid patted the rabbit’s head. Oscar sat upright, looking him directly in the eye. “I can’t tell if he’s thanking me or plotting my death.”

Gabriella sighed and rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t kill people. He’s not that smart.”

Ines snapped a picture, much to Zaid’s chagrin. “He looks so comfortable.”

“Well, good for him, I guess.”

“You look adorable.” Grinning, Ines leaned over and kissed him. “Okay, Gab, time for bed. Go pick out a book and we’ll be in there soon to read to you.”

Gabriella groaned and tried not to yawn. She held her eyes open and sat up straighter. “I’m not sleepy. See?”

“I see. I also saw you falling asleep a minute ago. C’mon.”

Sighing in defeat, Gabriella patted Oscar. “Come on, Oscar. You’re gonna sleep in my bed.”

At her beckoning, Oscar hopped off of Zaid’s lap and trailed after her. Zaid and Ines soon followed to read to Gabriella. Oscar was stretched comfortably across the foot of her bed and watched as Gabriella handed her parents a book.

“Oscar wants to hear about Peter Rabbit,” she insisted, only to fall asleep by the third page of the story. Wide awake, Oscar hopped off the bed and followed Zaid and Ines to the living room.

The second Zaid sat down, Oscar plopped into his lap.

“I think he likes you.”

Zaid sighed when Oscar looked up at him, staring at him with wide eyes and refusing to budge. “I’m still getting mixed signals.”

“He probably just knows you’re a softie.”

“How did I give him that impression?”

Ines shrugged, grinning. “Animals notice stuff like that.”

Tags. part 1

@princess-geek / @lapisreviewsstuff / @silverlitskies / @paulfwesley / @dr-brianna-casey-valentine / @junehiratas / @choicesstanblog / @trappedinfandoms / @justanotherrookie / @bellcat2010 / @desmaranj / @lion-ess24 / @nooruleman / @caseyvalentineramsey / @xee-na / @edith-eggs1 / @oofchoices / @schnitzelbutterfingers / @tefigranger / @jlynn12273 / @laceandlula / @crazy-loca-blog / @somegdchoices / @sanchita012 / @forthebrokenheartedthings / @lilyvalentine / @parkerattano / @drramseysownsme / @misswhit12 / @drethanfreakingramsey / @juneiswriting / @macy-ray85 / @swimmingauthordreamerbonk / @myusualnerdyself / @siaramsey / @takemyopenheart / @queencarb

#open heart #zaid x ines #zaid mirani x ines delarosa #zaid mirani #ines delarosa

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defenderrosetyler · 4 years ago

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APAHS Chapter 6

AN: Chapter 6 has arrived! I love all of your guys feedback it really makes my day ^_^ No real warnings this time I think..... WC: 2,221 Beta thanks to the wonderful @flamencodiva and dividers by @winchest09 Storybrooke

“What do you mean you want an engagement ring? Hasn’t Samuel gifted you with one?” Rowena asks Ruby, closing her loan payment ledger. Yes, it was only lunchtime, but there were a few payments that had rolled in. Ruby scoffed, crossing her arms as she tossed her hair over her shoulders. “As if, he has yet again tried to throw me out onto the streets. Both of our names are on that lease. I won’t let him kick me out. I do care for him despite what the town thinks.”

Letting out a hum of thought, the red-headed loan shark headed to her back room. Looking through her drawers of things her debtors had used as a pawn of sorts to help pay off their loan. Finding the jewel she’d been looking for, with a smirk she headed back to the front of the store and placed the ring in Ruby’s hand. The ring was a thin silver band, in the middle sat a bright white diamond, on either side of the large gem, however, sat two bright sapphires. Rowena hadn’t even asked Ruby’s ring size, but this ring she’d grabbed fit her hand perfectly. “Oh, Rowena, it's beautiful,” Ruby smirked wickedly, “Sam is mine, I’m not about to let him get wrapped around another woman’s finger. Despite what people think, I do care for Sam, and I’m going to prove who he belongs to.”

Across town, Y/N was occupied, and in pain. After explaining to Amaya her situation with needing more work to keep up her payments, both women had agreed to work at the Queen’s Court inside the Rabbit Hole. This wasn’t the kind of work she had in mind, but what choice did she have. There wasn’t anything else she could do. There was the option of agreeing to marry Rowena’s son, Crowley, but that was a hard pass. She’d rather rot in hell before agreeing to be his bride. As she finished her routine, under the name White Swan, Y/N groaned, spotting Crowley standing at the employee’s entrance. “Y/N, sweetheart, can’t we just talk?” He asks. “Crowley, can’t you go sit in those crummy cars you sell? I’m sure the carbon monoxide would knock you out faster than living alone,” She snapped. Partly from seeing him, the other from the uncomfortableness of her heels. Walking and dancing in 6-inch heels when you’ve never done it before? Not the best thing to do.

The businessman lets out a sigh of resentment. “It's just a conversation, not a marriage proposal” He tries again. “Crowley, I’m sure there's a woman in Storybrooke who is better suited for your needs than myself. I can find ways to pay your mother back. I’m not about to just give up now” She says, brushing past him to go change. It had been a long, exhausting day, and all Y/N wanted to do was go home. Crowley left with a sigh, nodding to Ruby who stood at the street corner, waiting for Y/N to come out. Y/N groans spotting Ruby, muttering her name under her breath. “Well well, if it isn’t the little duckie coming out of the pond?” Ruby teased, making sure her left hand was in full view. The light from above catches on the gems. “Ruby, I really don’t want…” her voice trailed off seeing the ring. “Is that?” Ruby smirked, “My engagement ring from Sam? Oh yes, proposed last night after he got home. Guess he couldn’t wait any longer. He really does love me deep down, you know.” “That’s not how I understood it. He keeps trying to kick you out.” Y/N argues, trying to hold back her tears.

Ruby scoffed, crossing her arms as she glared at Y/N, “couples fight, duckie.” She licked her lips, “you would know if you ever had a man. Let’s face it, you’re too ugly for any man to ever want you.” Ruby noticed Crowley watching them, a sly smile on her lips, “Crowley must be desperate if he’s going for you. You know, his mom is almost as rich as Gold. Too bad you’ll always be down in the dirt, like the ugly duckling you are.” “Why don’t you just leave me alone Ruby.” Y/N scoffed, “Surely you must have something better to do?”

Brushing past her, Y/N turns to head back into the Rabbit Hole, spotting Crowley sitting at the bar. “About dinner…”

----- Enchanted Forest “Making me do all your work? What kind of witch are you anyway. You’ve got the girl, why can’t we just take over her kingdom instead of the Winchesters?” Crowley snarled at his mother as he grabbed his clothes. “Because they banished me for just a wee bit of magic. It's not like I was planning to kill anybody” Rowena says with a shrug, looking through the spellbooks she’d had Crowley sneak in and grab for her. Well, the one’s that King John hadn’t destroyed by putting them into a fiery blaze the day she was banished. “Mother, we both know you wanted Queen Mary killed, force yourself into King John’s bed till you were pregnant and solidified an heir.” This made Rowena blink. Her son was smarter than he looked, and minor details didn’t slip past him usually.

“Perhaps.” She says not confirming or denying her son’s allegations against her. Grabbing the final ingredient, tossing it into the black cauldron, she sighed, grabbing a ladle and portioned out the vials. “This will be the third batch this week. Are you sure you're making it right?” Crowley asks, arms crossed against his chest. Rowena’s dark jade eyes glare at him. “It’s a slow process. Can’t do it all at once.” “You said that after the first batch. I’ve been sneaking around, trying to not get caught, yet here you are making me risk my neck for you.” The red head sighed frustrated, “You know that Castle, as well as I do, Crowley. You know how to remain hidden and unseen. Only a fool would get caught.” This particular batch of poison made six vials in total. Taking four of them, and placing them in his pocket, Crowley makes his way back to Winchester Palace.

The poison his mother had made, in enough doses and in large quantities, was meant to make the drinker incoherent and unable to think clearly. Once the recipient had received enough, it would make her appear to have an incurable disease. Once to baffle the medical staff till they were blue in the face, trying to heal their precious and beloved Queen. Since Odette’s capture, Crowley had been giving Queen Mary four vials in the span of a week. He’d started off with two, but there wasn’t as much of an effect as his mother would have liked, so she made him up the vial amount to four.

Being he’d left later than he’d planned, Crowley had managed to sneak into the kitchens just before supper was to be served. The kitchen was more packed than he’d planned as the staff bustled about gathering the finishing touches for the evening meal.

Ever since Princess Ruby’s arrival, King John had spared no expense. Bringing the best protein and sides he could manage. He did want to leave a good impression on the princess if indeed she was to be Sam’s bride. As soon as Crowley was sure the coast was clear, he entered the kitchen through a secret passage. As he was opening the vial, however, he was stopped when the tip of a blade was pressed just under his neck. “Back away slowly, before I slit your throat and make a mess for the maids to clean,” a gruff voice said from beside Crowley. Stepping backward as he was asked, Crowley swallowed the lump in his throat as he met a pair of bright blue eyes. “Evening Castiel.”

“Benny, what do you mean I can’t go downstairs, it's time for dinner, as usual, what's wrong?” Sam asks him as he was prevented from leaving his chambers.

“I’m zorry, your highnez,” Benny let out. “It zeems Castiel haz caught our slippery snake,” he continued, leading Sam down a long hallway and towards the dungeons.

“Slippery….” Sam says confused before catching who Castiel had exactly caught. “Crowley.” “‘Ello, Samuel,” Crowley muttered, “Come to be my executioner?” “I’ll leave that to Castiel. He’s good at killing snakes like you.” “I was only doing as I was told!” Crowley argued, trying to make a defense for himself, “It’s not my fault my mother’s obsessed with ruling the place!”

“Your mother?” Castiel asked, raising his eyebrow at him. “The Witch Rowena,” Sam snarled through his teeth, “The one who stole Odette and killed her father”

“Then why was he allowed to work in the palace?” Castiel glared at Crowley, the tip of his blade pressing on his neck. “How did we not know?” “A girl has to have her secrets blue eyes.” Crowley muttered. “Benny, give me your sword.” Sam says looking over at him, “I’m sure Castiel would be more than happy to kill him, but this is one execution I’d have the pleasure of handling myself.” “Kill me if you want, boy, but that little swan of yours will still stay hidden.” Sam’s anger rose, his chest rising and falling as his nose began to flare out.

“Sam,” Castiel said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We need to notify your father. We need to know how we never knew about Rowena being his mother? Have you seen Crowley with Rowena?” Sam nodded, his gaze still fixed on Castiel. “Out by the lake, he and his mother are out there every night.” Back upstairs, John went to find Mary, wanting to make sure that she was alright. Upon entering their chambers, he spotted her still lying in bed. “Mary? Are you alright?” “It’s nothing. Just a little tired from this afternoon that’s all” The Queen replied, trying to brush off her husband’s worry. John felt his wife’s head, noticing beads of sweat running down her forehead. “Mary, you're burning up,” he whispered, running to the door to shout for the Castle Doctor.

“Forgive me your majesty, but your wife does appear quite ill. The problem is, I cannot tell what has made her ill.” He admits with a frown. “There has to be something you can do.” The King begs. The Doctor was silent, grabbing his things as he left the King and Queens chambers. “Your Highness,” another one of the guards says, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder, “Forgive my intrusion, but your father is asking for you.” Sam looks at Benny and Castiel, “I’ll talk to my father about this. Get as much information out of him as you can, we need to find what he’s been doing here.” he says, turning to head back up the stairs. “Dad!” Sam calls appearing at the end of the corridor once climbing the stairs. “Son, we need to talk privately.” John says in hushed tones, “I have some concerning news concerning your mother.”

---- Storybrooke

After working through the papers at Gold’s office, logging the few items he’d gotten as pawns, Sam looked up hearing the clicking of heels. Groaning as he spotted Ruby leaning against the glass displays. It was valentine's day and Sam had planned on stopping by Granny’s to look for Y/N to give her a yellow rose for the day, in hopes to mend their relationship. “Ruby, what are you doing here? Couldn’t this wait till I got back?” Sam muttered

“What, and ruin the evening of valentines day? I thought maybe we could go out to Granny’s or something.” Ruby smiled, batting her eyelashes at him. “Well, Well, Miss Blackheart, wasn’t expecting a visit from you.” Gold says, making his way out of his office. “What a ring you have, looks like you did rather well Samuel. It would seem congratulations are in order.”

Sam looked over at his employer rather confused. “What?” he asks, finally catching the glint of the ring on Ruby’s left ring finger, “Where did you get that. I know I didn’t get that for you.”

“Course you did.” Ruby winked, pulling Sam along with her “Come on, I want to celebrate our engagement by having a special dinner.” Sam wanted to protest going to dinner with Ruby, he could barely stand the woman, let alone any more unnecessary stress. He just wanted one thing to go right, or even just halfway normal. He’d been meaning to find time to talk to Henry, or even Bobby. He’d talk to Dean, but given their recent conversations, it would just turn into an argument.

As they made their way into Granny’s diner, Sam felt his heart go cold, seeing car salesman Crowley Rosethorn press a kiss to Y/N’s cheek as he handed her a handful of red roses.

Sam felt the wind get knocked out of his chest. His heart felt like it was going to shatter, it held a secondary emotion though. Jealousy. He wanted to be the person giving Y/N roses, wanted to make her laugh, smile or just be happy.

Apparently Ruby had other ideas, as she forced his hand on their engagement. He had to break it off, but how?

#APAHS #APAHS chapter 6 #OUAT Fanfic #sam winchester imagines #ouat crossover

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coffeeshoptalkks · 4 years ago

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the cognitive functions explained by an extremely sarcastic and caffeinated entp

because literally why not

ah yes, cognitive functions. those things that are apparently supposed to be in a stack and you might think that you’re special and yours are out of order but really even if you’re on the fence the strength of the first two functions (maybe the third) are gonna determine your categorization

yes i’m looking at you my Ne, Ni, Ti dom ass who could theorhetically be an INTJ but cause my Te isn’t near as developed i get slotted into entp

tbh if you’re reading this im assuming ur already down the rabbit hole of mbti and understand the concept of cognitive functions but if you do not do a google search and return in approximately a month once you understand them

i cannot emphasize this enough, the following explanation is absolutely useless and just every function in solidarity so nO its not gonna be balanced but i find it entertaining so *insert shrug*

i literally just reread this and realized that how much i like each function is give or take the order of which an entp stack should theoretically work and i find that absolutely hilarious

-> Ne, Ti, Fe, Si, Ni, Te, Fi, Se

and yes i proofread but barely

Extraverted iNtuition

think of a spiderweb, and then multiply it by infinity, and then make it 4d and you have Ne.

its the computer system that has every single file type and information categorized perfectly within a singular system based on seemingly unrelated information and connections that if you remove even one piece from it falls apart

connects absolutely RANDOM things together and sometimes its batshit and just stored for that person’s own use but sometimes its literally the most innovative and impressive thing you’ve heard in a year and can cause a paradigm shift with understanding a concept or seeing how a system works

all the possibilities and not enough time

take one piece of information and all of the sudden Ne has crafted it into an entire universe with ever potential outcome known to man and alien

Introverted Intuition

think of that crazy ass spider web but then put it in a like, a tunnel or something, and you’ve got Ni

it takes all of the external information and focuses it in a direction

if you need a problem solved go to an Ni dom

stupidly good at solving problems

if Ne is a universe, Ni is an omnipotent god of the universe looking for that one specific planet that they know they put somewhere and taking all the information before finding that one planet

tbh this one isn’t in my stack i’m still kinda confused about how it works but uh

you’re good at solving things and finding the singular most correct answer to a problem

its v useful when dealing with theory

not so much when it comes to implementation

Extraverted Thinking

there are your mutterers

not really but probably

my father is like this

its so fking annoying like if im trying to do something with airpods in and you’re constantly moving your mouth and im worried you’re saying something

but i guess ur good at actually putting things to into place?

but tbh systems are never good so do ur job bEtter Te doms

it’s fine, rules were meant to be broken

Introverted Thinking

hello spending too much time in your head!

to this day i have 0 clue how Ti doms get anything done because when i say everything happens in your head

i mean everything happens in your head

and because your entire personality revolves around learning arbitrary bits of information with no direction in mind

idk how u function within society cause you don’t wanna do anything but live inside your head

actually i do know, you scrape by on sheer intelligence enough to self preserve

i’m kinda ambivalent about you otherwise

like, i’ve got Ti aux and it filters through the random shit Ne throws at it but it also leads to people never seeing me think per say and cause i’m throwing random shit around everyone just assumes i’m a dumbass (and like, yes i am but also i’m smarter than you) and is extremely surprised when i turn my game face on and start to get shit done

its fine, i like to surprise people anyway

tbh i really see Ti as a super selfish function and its just the way that i process things and i’m okay with that but outside of processing, alone, it means that you’re not gonna get anything done in the real world cause you’ve figured it out in your head but then u run into problems cause like eating

still don’t know how Ti doms function

Extroverted Sensing

thrill seeking

bungee jumping

doing incredibly stupid things at 4am because literally why not

hi Se :)

living in the moment

frat parties

regular society

surface level care about anything and everything

blah blah blah

no i do not like this function

Introverted Sensing

it’s doing everything the way it’s been done cause it’s the way that it’s been done before

or doing incredibly mundane things because u need some sort of stability in ur life and somehow cleaning the bathroom is that

oops my inferior Si popped out

i’m really just @ ing myself lmao

it’s not my favorite way to live, Si doms can sometimes annoy me cause they’re so rigid when it comes to old rules

but honestly, u mind ur own business and don’t try to control me so thanks

ur like the comfort of home after a long and stressful day and i can appreciate that

Extraverted Feeling

did someone say caring more about other peoples emotions and wellbeing than your own!

did someone say not really caring about other peoples emotions but understanding each persons and knowing what to say or do and by proxy knowing how to absolutely destroy someone?

hello tertiary Fe lol

at least you’re useful when it comes to avoiding topics you don’t have energy to deal with that day

i guess peer pressure does have its uses

as long as its not basing your entire self-worth off of other people’s perception of you we’re gonna be fine and dandy

Introverted Feeling

crying crying crying

getting ur damn feelings hurt

at least you understand your emotions i guess?

but feelings can also make u end up in really shitty situations because you didn’t think this through

also stop taking things PERSONALLY JESUS

but plz help me figure out my own emotions i am a rock lol

but also dont tell me cause i don’t like dealing with them anyway and would prefer to be a robot but unfortunately i am not so here we are

aH wait i forgot

you’re actually kinda nice cause you don’t try and force ur own opinions on me which i like so thanks!

#mbti #myers briggs #16 personalities #cognitive functions #entp #intp #entj #intj #enfp #infp #enfj #infj #estp #istp #estj #istj #esfp #isfp #esfj #isfj #cstks #mine #this is a MEME please

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sleepdeprivedheretic · 5 years ago

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Lilium

Summary: Although a witch, you weren’t the one to really summon demons, but your friends had insisted that you could use an extra pair of helping hands to help you with your run-down hut. After fixing the mess of a first attempt fail, you were expecting to summon a lower gremlin. What or who you didn’t expect, was to summon the demon king of hell, keeper of souls, in searching for something that only you could do perfectly.

In explanation of the fic: Each powerful demon has his/her own hell, and in each hell has layers, like onions. So although reader didn’t summon Lucifer, she summoned a pretty powerful Japanese demon who’s element of hell follows close to that of Greek mythology because Rita liked the Persephone vibes. As for the soul thing, those are the souls who just...wind up at his place.

Title name: Lilies are a flower that represent not only unity, love, and devotion, but also the flowers are most often associated with funerals, they symbolize that the soul of the departed has received restored innocence after death. Persephone held lilies in her hands/arms as she was take away by Hades, the flowers turning white as they fell to the ground. Ancient(?) Romans would stuff pillows full of the flowers, the fragrance perfect for love-making ;)

Notes: @youtubequeens, or Rita, requested the beautiful idea of Tai-chan being a demon king in need of something that only the reader can do, and we brainstormed together on the setting and the plot, so the credit goes to her, go ahead and check her on Tumblr <3

Warnings not in order: Cursing, hand cutting for rituals (so blood), being void of a soul (cause, demons), summoning demons, minions, souls of the damned, smut, deals with the devil, having your soul taken and turning into a demon, and hellish stuff.

Tag: @youtubequeens

“I mean, look at this place, Sister! It’s a dump! C’mon, pleeeease!” Your friend begged. She, along a few others belonged to a nearby coven. Although good friends, they delved into the darker aspects of witchcraft, such as demon summoning, as you stuck to herbal remedies, readings, and a little bit of scrying. Although not against the art, you weren’t well acquainted, and a little nervous.

“You don’t even need a contract! Just bind whatever poor little goblin or gremlin to you, and...you know, have it help you collect your herbs! I know, binding seems a little much, and it’s difficult to get out of one, but they can’t hurt you when bound to you.” Another friend piped up, trying further to convince you. Your gaze fell onto the chalked-up pentagram within your home, surrounded by salt and melting red candles, looking innocently out of place, almost.

“Alright, fine.” You huffed, causing squeals of victorious joy from the gaggle of girls. It wouldn’t hurt, you thought. You lived in the outskirts of the village, within a rugged hut that you called a “store”. Although it was a popular little town, you weren’t doing to well. Your place was falling apart, herbs were harder to find, and although tolerated, your witchy status had alerted and unnerved everyone, except your little coven of friends, who had hidden themselves away deeper into the forest.

Your life sucked, and with your pet familiar, the two of you kept to yourselves as you brewed supper more than potions and remedies, your Sisters popping in from time to time, checking up on you.

Your little orange rabbit snuggled into your lap as you repeated the words in Latin, trying to spark hellfire into the pentagram. No such luck.

“Aw! Is it not working? I’m suuuure my aunt gave me the right spell!” Your main friend huffed into a pout, the two other girls following her example of disappointment.

“Perhaps another time? It’s getting late, girls.” You admitted. Truthfully, you didn’t want to have to deal with more pressure, and your familiar was getting unnerved by the whole thing.

“You’re right. It was fun hanging out with you, Sis! Wish we could do this more, but you know, coven stuff.” The sweet friend smiled softly as she hugged you tightly.

“We’ll be busy, you know, coven stuff. Auntie wants us to clean out the nasty pots, restock the potions, and go on a wild, exciting adventure of grabbing rare herbs, so we don’t know when that’s going to take. Ugh, I’m not leaving, yet, and I miss you, already!” The leader of the girls whined, dramatically throwing her arm over her eyes. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Stay safe, okay? We’ll visit to check up on you. Give Lottie some extra treats for us!” The third one grinned, petting the rabbit. With further words, they left, leaving you warm, yet saddened and alone.

Many times, the fellow women of the coven had offered a place for you, so that you wouldn’t be so alone, and you appreciated that, but you knew that the coven wasn’t one for you. Although not evil, you didn’t want to join for a multitude of reasons. They had strict rules and regulations, following their leader without question as they sacrificed time and energy for reasons that the girls, although close, didn’t tell you what for.

You couldn’t help but feel that it was rather sketchy. Your eyes laid upon the pentagram as the thought crossed your mind. You weren’t fully against summoning things from the underworld, it was an aged old practice that was held with reverence from generation to generation. You held Charlotte close to you, the rabbit sniffing at the air, scenting out scents that your human nose could not deter.

“I smell nothing out of the ordinary. The salt is too strong.” Her voice echoed in your head, and you nodded your thanks. You were curious, you admitted. You didn’t really have much things to do, other than clean your stew pot, tend to the moon water, and pluck the petals off of the dried out roses.

“Something has to give, in order for you to receive.” You said aloud, the wheels turning in your head. A certain flower could help, you thought suddenly, looking at the container of dried out white lilies. You opened the jar spreading out the white funeral flowers among the edges of the Celtic symbol. The scent was almost too pure for such a deed, you couldn’t help but think.

Carving a fool-proof plan to mind, you placed Charlotte down, and grabbed a small blade used for cutting fruits from your kitchen. The little rabbit opted to say nothing, trusting you as her witch to do what you think was best.

You winced as you sliced a small cut into your palm, letting the little blood droplets to drip onto each flower, avoiding the salt as best as you could. Picking up a slip of paper in which had the summoning spell, you began reading the Latin out loud as you channeled your energy at the edge of the pentagram, instead of in between it.

Your breath hitched as bright orange hellfire sparked, not going past the salt as it crackled at the precious crystals and parts of the flowers. You continued speaking the verses, watching in awe as the odd underworldly flames refused to consume, instead it burned brighter at each verse.

As you finished the last sentence with a final quip, you jumped in surprise as the flames reached almost as high as the ceiling, whirling dangerously as it let out smoke and sparks, fizzling as a tall figure behind the flames seemed to crawl from the little circle, you couldn’t see who or what it was, but you were coughing as the unnatural smoke outweighed the dying fire, floating heavily away as you looked up to see your first summon.

You were choked up, not knowing what to say as your eyes beheld the sight when the smoke finally cleared from the deadened flames.

A demon, and not just anything in the ordinary of what you knew about them. He was tall, as tall as the men in your village, and almost resembled a human. His pointed ears were adorned with little ringlets of gold, matching the glittering bracelets and bands that were worn upon his ankles, horns, wrists, arms, and a swishing pointed tail. His attire was something you’d never really seen within your village, but you knew what it was due to your books.

He wore dark orange attire that almost resembled a Doric chiton, except the one he wore, hardly left anything to the imagination, but you weren’t focused on that, right now. What you were focused on, was the demon’s scowl of frustration and annoyance, aimed at you as his tail swished and thumped angrily at the ground, reminding you of an angry cat.

“This fuckin’ circle’s too small! And the hell do you want? I’m a very busy man, ya know!” He growled out, taking in your smaller frame with displeasure. You were surprised by his accent, it was gruff, yes, but it was new, something that you’ve never heard, before.

“I was trying to summon something else.” You stammered, and he faltered in an angry shock, before narrowing his eyes at you.

“Tch! Who do you think you are, summonin’ a king of hell, tellin’ me that you were tryin’ to summon somethin’ else?” He bared his teeth, and you could see little tusks peeking out from underneath his bottom lip. You gave him your name as you found yourself blurting out who knows what.

“I need a um...helper. I needed somebody to look after my hut while I collected herbs...make sure that the villagers don’t torch down my shop.” The excuse slipped out as you stood your ground. It was partially true. His stance relaxed a bit at your words.

“A magic user, huh?” He asked slowly, behavior sharply and swiftly contrasting from his angry tone, as he rested his chin onto his hand in processing the thought. Then his eyes moved onto yours. He unnerved you.

“What about it?” You asked, and he indulged you.

“Normally, mortals such yerself can summon us with ease, only because ya need a contract. You, lil’ witch, were trying to find a binding partner, which uses magic. I may have use for you, yet.” His attitude shifted, and you couldn’t help but relax a little at the honeyed tone. What was with this demon?

“What are you talking about?” You bit out. He let out a victorious grin.

“Yer magic was so strong, it summoned me. A king of hell, a keeper of souls, n’ lord of demons. Bindin’ magic can only get ya so far, it’s pretty much unheard of a mortal summoning somethin’ greater than an ogre, or an oni.” Rolled off of his tongue, eyes now glinting with something that you couldn’t pinpoint. You were surprised. A king of hell? It did explain his jewelry and finery, you silently pinpointed. Despite the shock, you still needed to ask more questions while he was in the mood to be generous with his answers.

“So...you’re needing me to summon demons up for you from the surface?” You offered, and he looked at you with surprise.

“No….I need you to give up your soul, and live with me in hell.” He grinned at the tight atmosphere that he was causing, you froze.

“Tell me, why would I ever want to do that? What do you even want?” You grounded out the last bit, still confused, and getting weary. Your summon had taken a toll on your body, and now you were feeling the lull of sleep due to sapped magic.

“I have two main underlings who are like sons to me, but the three of us can only do so much in carin’ for the undead. Ya see, hell’s a very powerful place, in which it can supply a witch’s magic with ease. Ya know where I’m getting’ at?” He drawled out, and you nodded a little.

“I think somebody of yer stature could really hold the forte down. All you have to do, is just be there, n’ yer magic can calm down n’ soothe the restless dead, making this job a lot easier. Since yer magic is powerful, it’ll be extra helpful n’ dosing the souls an’ lesser devils, down. You give me what I need, an’ I can give you what you need.” He purred at the end.

The thought of being useful did appeal to you, it’s what you ever wanted. Yes, it was a terrible decision and you’ll probably end up being burned, anyway, but you remembered that a bound demon or devil cannot hurt you, no matter how powerful they were. If they hurt you, they hurt themselves.

“I’m not going to give up my soul to burn forever, to live with a demon that I’m not bound to.” You countered, and his eye twitched

“First of all, Sweetheart, my realm is in layers. Where you, I, an’ my boys live, is an environment that resembles your realm, but better. Secondly, you will be bound to me, but not as a servant or master, but as an equal. Somethin’ akin to…” He let the sentence hang as he smiled smugly at you, brows furrowed with cockiness, leering at you from his height.

“Akin to?” You egged him, and he let the rest rolled off of his tongue without hesitation.

“My queen.”

Your brain screeched to a halt.

He laughed at your stunned expression.

“What? Ya expected me to make ya my lil’ minion? No, no, Honey, somebody with yer power, and the sheer gall to stare into my face while arguin’ with me, has already earned my respect. Yeah, you’ll have to turn into a demon, but you’ll be immortal, n’ you can visit yer friends n’ family as long as you like, if you’re powerful as me. Which, you will be.” He threw in his own bait, trying to lure you in.

Understandably, you were stunned. You just summoned a devil. Who wanted you to rule hell with him. And to become an immortal mistress of the night who can help rule over the undead while living forever with him in his realm.

It was tempting, yes, but you were not one who really chased power. You told him, and his eyebrows furrowed, as if thinking further ways to lure you in, and to be honest? You found that you didn’t mind being swayed by a literal handsome devil.

“Well, think about it this way, Princess, I don’t know you well, but you live in a run-down hut, the peasants fear you to the point of possible violence, and you’ve turned your attention to demon summoning. We’re both desperate for somethin’.” He looked at you thoughtfully, tail swishing as you processed it. Hell.

“What about my familiar?” You were caving in, and his gazing expression broke out into a victorious grin as his eyes slide to your rabbit.

“Sure, the lil thing can come, too. Familiars exist in hell, too, but not the cute lil’ rabbit ones. Might be a nice change to have one. Wipe away the salt, n’ we can get started.” He acted as if he had already won, and to be honest, he did.

It was too good of an opportunity to really pass up, and you didn’t really have anybody, and good decisions in your tired state were lacking. You wiped away the salt, and he sighed with relief as he stepped out.

“Man, that tiny circle was exhaustin’ to be in. Now, let’s take you home.” He tucked a fray hair behind your ear. Smiling a devil’s smile, he held you against him, and you tried to keep your cheeks from flushing as he began a mantra of a spell in his native tongue, leaving you awed that it wasn’t the usual Latin. You couldn’t keep your eyes open as a wave of exhaustion and tiredness wafted over you, and your eyes slid shut, darkness over-taking you, but not before hearing a dark chuckle. ��

…………..

Warm. You were so warm. You opened your eyes, only to be greeted by a bare chest. Your eyes widened as now you were fully conscious, furiously wondering on what the hell was going on.

“So, yer finally awake.” He hummed, and you jolted slightly, looking up at his face with pure surprise, he smiled at you as he held you close to his chest. It didn’t take you long to realize that this was his bedroom, and your mind whirled, vaguely remembering prior events. Sitting up, he whined at the loss of contact, but you paid no mind.

The room was lit up by the flickering familiar orange flames emitting from the white candles slowly melting on top of his dresser, creating a safe, sleepy, and an almost romantic atmosphere. The bed was huge, and took up a good portion of his room, but there was still enough space for some furniture such as the dresser, and a large cage. You sighed with relief, seeing the familiarity of Charlotte within, the little rabbit’s eyes now glowed with luminescence, as if she were something else. It would make sense, your familiar was no longer a normal familiar, since she was in hell, with you.

You looked down, feeling warmed metal against your skin, and that’s when you’ve noticed your new attire. It was a chiton, like his, although a little looser, and you wore the same amount of matching golden jewelry. Your ears stung a little at the newer piercings, but you didn’t pay that much mind as you couldn’t help but think that he went out of his way to undress you and doll you up to match him. You gave him a dirty look, and he grinned in retaliation, enjoying the flushed and guffawed expression that marred your face.

“If ya’re gonna be the part, might as well look like it. I didn’t undress you fully or touch you too inappropriately, if that makes ya feel better.” He shrugged. Although you admit that he sort of have a point, still!

“What happened to me?” You opted to say instead, and he sat up along with you, you jumping slightly as his tail curled around your waist, acting as a small comfort.

“You’re a demon. I took yer soul, and bound it to me. Wish ya could’ve seen it, ‘s so pretty an’ pure, an’ it fizzled nicely within me. Was the only way for ya to come down here, sorry.” He hummed, rubbing his cheek against yours in seemingly affection, eyes glittering as he let you process the words and his bizarre behavior.

Demon. Were you dead? You had no heartbeat, did you? You let your hand rest against your pulse point, surprised by the soft fluttering. You looked at him with question.

“Demon, not fully dead, but not fully alive, either, an’ yeah, you’ll look forever like a human, since ya weren’t born like us. I took yer soul, and gave you one of the multiple that belongs to me. ‘S how we tie our lives together fer eternity, as if exchangin’ rings. You’re mine, and I’m yours. Romantic, isn’t it?”

“I have so many questions.” You murmured, instead. He smiled.

“We have an eternity together, I’ll answer all of ‘em. For now, c’mon. Lemme show ya what yer magic is doing right now at this moment.” He stood up from the bed, offering you his hand, pulling you up to him as you accepted it. He opened the drapes to his balcony’s windowed doors, revealing an ashen gray sunlight that paled in comparison to the candles. Letting you take Charlotte out of her cage, he opened the doors as the two of you stepped outside.

You looked on in awe.

The balcony to your new home, an ashen gray-stoned castle, had a short amount of steps that led into a gigantic garden. You stared in amazement and joy at the flowering plants and trees that grew in your former realm. There were so many plants, you couldn’t name all of them, but you didn’t mind as you looked on in the neatly organized forage of a garden, enjoying the array of greens and different colors of flowering foliage. Your familiar squirmed, wanting to enjoy the plants and be free, and so you let her, knowing that she’ll be smart enough to stay within eyesight.

“Beautiful, ain’t it? It didn’t look like this ‘fore you were here. Sure, some plants such as pomegranates n’ ferns grew, but since it’s such a deadened place, nothin’ really grew. I tried for centuries, n’ no such luck. It’s so beautiful ‘cause of yer magic.” His voice broke out of your thoughts, and you listened carefully as a hint of sorrow passed over his features.

“Pomegranates…?” Your mind raced to the odd familiarity of the setting. Greek clothing, the underworld, and now pomegranates? He leaned down and smirked at you, bringing your hand to his lips.

“Heh, because, ya know…” He grinned, enjoying the way you stared up at him in disbelief.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Can’t say that I don’t have a sense of humor.” He chuckled, and you felt yourself relax, thinking of ways to steer the conversation into another turn.

“You really like this place, don’t you...um?” You wanted to curse yourself. You went through a psychological loop in becoming a queenly wife to a stranger, no less a king of demons, and you didn’t even know his name. How forgetful were you?

Ignoring your inner dread, he grinned as he held your hand within his, rubbing his thumb over your palm.

“Taishiro. Yeah, I rarely visit earth ‘cause all the shit I have to do, n’ so this is my favorite place to relax. Thanks to you, it’s blossoming quite well.” He admitted, pecking your cheek, tail flicking with delight at the prospect of your face pink with the affection. Oh, you were so cute, he crooned.

“What about the dead, Taishiro?” You wondered as you tried out, the foreign language rolling off of your tongue. He looked at you with interest, liking the way his name melded to your own dialect.

“I’ll take ya on a little tour, how about that? Show ya what’s happenin’ and yer new home. N’ later, we can relax in our garden, take a lil’ break to enjoy our Honeymoon.” He purred, and you felt butterflies flutter nicely within your stomach and chest as you nodded.

“Yer familiar can stay outside. It never rains here, an’ she’s not really...alive, anymore. She’ll be fine.” He looked at the little rabbit that was chewing on a blade of grass, absentmindedly paying attention as you agreed, knowing that she’ll be safe.

Without further ado, he took you back inside of the castle, beginning the day.

……...

It was obvious that you were still in shock, and that this wasn’t a dream. He opted to say nothing about your state, as he introduced you to the castle, and the many rooms within. Of course the first thing he had offered to show you, was the dining room, stating that you were probably hungry, and a nice breakfast had been made for you. You blushed furiously, not acquainted with such treatment, and he grinned, pinching your cheek and you huffed at him.

“C’mon, Sweetcheeks, the staff’s all here, n’ they’ve been waitin’ to see what’s been in my bedroom fer about two days.” The sentence had surprised you.

“Two days?” You looked at him owlishly, and he shrugged.

“Turnin’ a human into somethin’ else, takes a toll on the receiver. I’m surprised that it was that short, to be honest.”

You walked along side him as the interior looked unique and odd, nothing of it that you’ve seen before. Colors of orange, gold, and red melded into a comfortable, royal setting as the hallways twisted. Each one sported different types of framed pictures and paintings of animals, spirits, and demons of which were new to your eyes.

Taishiro smiled at your awed and innocent wondering as he began talking, introducing you further into his world, entrancing and entrapping you into the Greek and Japanese themes that he so loved, and you couldn’t help but feel fitted in comfortably within your new home as the two of you continued on-wards towards the dining room, your stomach feeling empty.

You talked along with him, trying to learn and get used to the idea that yes, this was your husband. Your demon husband who was oddly being affectionate with you, despite his earlier, snappish attitude. Although, you were not minding it, preferring the brushing of hands, eyes meeting yours, and little touches, rather than the first thoughts of possibly burning in hell for eternity. He intrigued you, leaving you to wonder on how were you this lucky and yet foolish. All too soon, however, he had guided you into his favorite place that was second to the garden.

The room was beautiful and spacious, with multiple dining ware, vases of freshly cut flowers, and cloths laid neatly upon the long table. The staff were well dressed in their own lesser version of Ionic chitons, small bands of gold littered their collars and wrists, but nothing too extravagant like you and your husband’s. He sat you down, the smell of bacon, eggs, and biscuits wafted deliciously to you from the silver plate sitting in front of you. You could feel your mouth all but water as your stomach grumbled with an awakening realization. Taishiro sat next to you, chuckling at your eagerness.

“I know that yer not human, anymore, but we demons can live on an’ indulge on such human foods. Thank our chefs fer goin’ out onto the earthen realm, n’ huntin’ down the stuff.”

“Thank you.” Came out, and who you guessed were the chefs, bowed with gratitude. You tried not to shovel the food greedily into your mouth, paying mind to try to eat with grace. You blanched, feeling a bit of the egg yolk dribble down your chin, and you jumped as Taishiro didn’t miss a beat in taking the opportunity to swipe it from your face with his forefinger, eyeing you with a dark look mixed in with a cocky smirk as he began suckling on said finger, rolling his tongue around it, and pulling it out of his mouth with a wet pop.

You felt as if your face, chest, and ears were burning as he then groaned.

“Delicious.”

You weren’t burning in hell with actual fire, so you guessed he had to come up with other ways, you guessed.

The two of you finished in silence, him grinning with knowing want at your expressions, liking the way how easy and fun it was to just tease you. After saying your formal thanks to the staff, the two of you continued onward.

Most of the rooms, other than the main bedroom, that he had led you, were guest rooms, and the others were sleeping headquarters for the staff and his underling sons. Speaking of which, it did not take you too long to be introduced to them. Cue in bright laughter, oddly mixed in with a rather gloomy aurora caught your attention, and lo and behold, down the hall is where they stood.

“Oooh! Is this her, Tai-chan?!” Noticing your presences, a red-haired young man turned his attention towards you. He nor the other young man were dressed as glamorous as the two of you, but they were unique. The red haired boy, along with the black haired one, both had pointed ears, but that’s where the line was drawn. Red had scaled, burgundy wings, furled neatly behind his back as his reptilian tail wagged slowly, he sported a sharp-toothed grin and radiated sunlight.

The gloomy man had a crystal ball within his clawed hands, cape and hood cloaking his figure as he stared at you.

“Who else would it be?” He muttered slowly, sarcasm lost on the other.

“Eijirou’s the dragon, an’ Tamaki’s the sorcerer. Boys, this is yer Queen.” Taishiro made a short introduction.

“Nice to meet you!” As well as “Hello.” Greeted you, and you mimicked their greetings, surprised by the welcome. You replied your own greetings, feeling a bit nervous.

“Tamaki, would ya show ‘er the souls? I’d like for her to know what’s on the lower layer.”

“Sure.” Without further question, the scryer demon began murmuring his own spell as you stared into the crystal ball, watching with amazement at the sheer focus that was being put into it as it began to reveal answers to your questioning mind.

“See what yer magic’s been doin? Told ya, Nightingale, yer magic’s one of a kind, an’ yer not focusing on it, right now, but see what it’s doin’?” Taishiro gestured towards the mass of ghostly shadows within the ball. They seemed still, as if time had stopped them.

“Rather than deafening screams, wailing, and clattering of chains, we have this. They’re calm, awaiting to be reincarnated. It’s the most quiet that we’ve heard in centuries. None of us has yet the need to intervene and waste our time.” Tamaki opted to explain for you, a small hint of a smile graced his features, while Eijirou smiled warmly.

“It eases their suffering, too! Your magic to them is like a lullaby! You can’t hear it, but others can! It’s why Tai-chan’s been so calm-

“Anyway! Let’s go to the garden, yer not too tired, right? We can continue this later.” Taishiro interrupted swiftly, ruffling each boy’s heads as he gripped your hand rather gently, tugging you along back towards the familiarity of the garden, as you swore you heard two chuckles behind you.

……..

“There is a teeny, tiny detail that I need to explain.” Taishiro dragged you further into the depths of the green foliage, slowly but surely darkening out the sunlight as you couldn’t help but shiver a little due to the anticipation. Where was he leading you? You guessed that he could see in the dark, but you couldn’t, feeling yourself stumble a little.

“Taishiro, I can’t see.” You offered, and you heard a chuckled huff.

“Guess I gotta carry you, hm?” The sentence was your only warning. You let out a shrill yelp, feeling him lift you up with little to no effort into his arms. You liked the way how he gripped you, and seeped into his warmth as he continued walking to who knows where, and oddly enough, you trusted him.

“In order to fully complete the bond,” He startled you, as he finally broke the silence in what had seemed minutes. Setting you down, he snapped his fingers. Orange floating, flickering lights that resembled candles appeared right after, dimly illuminating the area around them. Your eyes adjusted, taking in the scenery that the lights were willing to show. It was a spacious area of smoothed down grass, white lilies and red roses crowned around it, giving it a magical, romantic feeling.

“you need to finally receive part of my power. Sure there’s multiple ways of sharing a mate’s essence, I just thought that this would be more fun.” He gave you a wink, and you felt your heartbeat quicken with a little nervousness. Yet, you found yourself not really surprised. He was your husband, after all. The thoughts of you becoming a demon, him being your mate, and that you ruled souls along with your new family, had been whirling around your head silently. It was only natural to continue, right?

“Only if you take the lead.” You offered, and he smiled, leaning down to finally mesh his lips upon yours in a secured kiss, tail swishing wildly as if joyed. Although a little snappy, he was also sweet and devilish in a teasing, fun way. You guessed that he was probably stressed from working and worrying too hard, thus you didn’t really hold it against him.

“Alright.” He led you to the clearing, laying down as he pulled you down on top, you basically straddling him, heat creeping up to your neck and ears as his clothed hardness poked at your equally clothed entrance. Not bothering to take any clothes off, he rocked his hips, groaning with guttural want as you let out a whimper, feeling the silk cloth of your clothing stimulate your clit as he rutted lazily up against it. His eyes focused up at you as he held your waist tightly, helping you rock your hips in sync with his as his tail rubbed itself against your sensitive, itching to feel you.

“Can ya smell yer own arousal? Mixin’ in nicely with our flowers? Ya can cum anytime ya want too, okay?” He brought you down to kiss your clavicle and neck, your hands gripped his hair as your fingers threaded though the soft tresses and horns, keening as his own teeth latched onto the juncture of your throat as he suckled, minding his bottom tusks as he bit harshly, kissing the bruising skin with tenderness. You choked out a whimper as your hips bucked a little more roughly at his actions, causing him to groan.

You could feel yourself clench with want as his precum and your wetness soaked through your undergarments, creating a slicking friction as the wet squelching noises echo through the dimly lit darkness. You looked down at him through lidded eyes, eyebrows furrowing as you bit your bottom lip, noticing that he mimicked your expression, if it wasn’t for the gritting teeth, You liked this side of him, too, you thought through your itching need to cum.

He could tell that you were getting desperate, hell, he was, too. Yet, he wanted you to come before he did. Taking both hands away from your waist, he placed one underneath your ridden up clothing, and another cupped one of your bouncing breasts, thumb rubbing roughly over a nipple. Taking pleasure in the way that you were staring down at him, swallowing thickly, he let his hand slip into your soiled undergarments, making sure that every time your hips bucked forwards, you could feel his fingers brush against your clit.

“T-Taishiro~!” You gasped, and he moaned, slipping two fingers in as he continued bucking, envying the digits as they stretched your tight and wet heat. Your juices were now dribbling down, creating more of a mess as his now four fingers pumped in and out of you, crooking them and stretching your walls with a gentle fervor as his dick slid between the folds of your labia, continuing to rub against your clothed clit. He ate up your desperate expression, knowing that he was no better as the both of you were about to cum. He picked up his pace as your face was buried in his shoulder, panting loudly and letting out breaths of need.

“Y-ya know, I haven’t done this in centuries. ‘M gunna fuck you so good. Would ya like that?” He nipped at your ear, and you whined wantonly as you felt yourself tighten around his fingers, gripping them like a lifeline and he hissed as you came, cum soaking and dripping everywhere as you stilled, fingers grasped in his hair tightly, and damn if he loved that feeling. He stilled, awaiting for you to recover as you panted, lying against his chest as tears and a little bit of drool temporarily stained your flushed face. He kissed you softly, removing his soaked fingers from your fluttering heat, lust boiling within him as he imagined his cock in there.

“How do ya want this? Missionary and doggy are pretty good positions for first timers, either way, I’m going to claim you, Sweetheart.”

You looked at him through your wet lashes, as if contemplating on what you want.

“What do you want?” You asked instead, and the question caught him off guard, but he grinned.

“You.” He didn’t hesitate.

“Then have me.” You felt a blush at your own statement, but you really wanted to continue.

“Ya sure?”

“Anyway you can, Taishiro. I trust you, you’re not going to hurt me.” At this, his expression softened as he then kissed you with such a tenderness.

“I won’t, but my instincts are screamin’ at me to take ya right here on the ground.”

“Then do so. We have an eternity together, right?” You pondered, and he frowned a little.

“For your-

“I trust you.” You interrupted, looking at him dead in the eyes, as if challenging him. He couldn’t help but smile at your spitfire attitude.

“As my Queen commands.” He kissed your cheek.

It was the only warning you really had, but your blood was on fire with heat and want, and truthfully, if he wanted to hurt you, he had every opportunity to after you wiped away the salt from the pentagram.

Shedding off the both your clothing, the both of you stared unabashed at each other, a red flush tinted his face, and you were blushing furiously. You weren’t really acquainted with seeing an angry-looking cock, veins visible as a drool of precum leaked onto the ground, but here it was, twitching slightly at your intense gaze. The golden glints caught your eye, and your eyes widened with surprise.

“Y-you have piercings-!” You guffawed as he laughed.

“Oh! You’re so cute! Easy to reach’n stimulate, Babe.” He winked and you swallowed thickly as he then decided that enough time was spent staring, and now he wanted to touch you, more.

He placed both garbs neatly on the ground as he gently maneuvered you onto them, your stomach and breasts were cushioned as you gripped the clothing, knees on the cool grass as you basically laid out bare for him.

You jolted as you felt his hot, fat tongue lick a long stripe along your leaking sex and clit, his hands gripped your thighs, squeezing them gently as he decided to make a meal out of you, first. You could only lay there, whining and panting, trying to move your hips in his tight grasp as he licked you with fervor, taking extra time to suckle at your clit, chuckling as he also sopped up the extra slick running down your thighs, kissing them gently and you moaned.

“Taishiro!” You whined at him, silently pleading for him to get to the main event.

“Oh? Ya wanna be fully tainted by the devil?” He purred, and you nodded. You knew that he had to take care of his need, too, and he didn’t admit it, but he was getting a little impatient.

“Easy there, Hon. If anythin’ bothers you, say somethin’, and we’ll stop, m’kay?” He finished, getting an affirmative from you, as he then grabbed his dick, leading it to your sopping entrance, and pushing a little bit in. He was amazed on how the muscles to your opening were loose, letting the head of his dick catch the rim, slipping a little inside.

He froze when you froze at the sudden prodding, opting instead to move his hips rather gently, not going further as you got use to the feeling of what’s already inside you. He decided that rubbing your clit was a good idea, and was rewarded as he felt you loosen up a bit, knees spreading out further as you bit your lip, feeling the gentle rubbing of calloused fingers.

“C-continue.” You murmured, feeling the other piercings now slide past the muscle. It was a delicious feeling of being stretched and stimulated, feeling yourself loosen as you took more of him in.

“Almost in, Sweetheart.” He murmured gently, his other hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. Finally, he moved the last couple of inches inside of your burning heat as he refused to move, letting the both of you take in the feeling of being joined together.

“Ya alright?” He grunted, silently pleading for you to give your affirmative for him to move. He was relieved when you nodded, amazed at himself for gently rocking his hips as you were basically sucking him in. You were in a daze, feeling every inch, vein, and piercing churn your inside walls as your breasts rubbed against the silken clothing, clit still being stimulated as he took care of you.

“Y-you can mo-ve fa-faster, T-Taishiro.” It sounded more needy than you liked to admit, but he didn’t seem to mind. He leaned down, resting his chin against your shoulder as he basically enveloped you from above, one hand rubbing your clit, and the other holding himself from fully crushing you as he let his hips buck with more fervor, both of you seeing each other’s needy expressions.

“Takin’ me in-oh! So well, Darlin’. Ya’re s-suckin’ me in so-damn! Nicely. Don’t know ya that well, but ‘m so fond an’ proud of ya.” He kissed your cheek tenderly, contrast to his hips positioning themselves in a new angle in a snapping motion. Your head spun with stars as you felt the piercing on his tip, hit something inside you, letting out a “do that again!”. He would chuckle, if that statement didn’t turn him on so much.

“Y-you’re doing such a g-good job, too! Ah! Like y-you a lo-ot!” You admitted, trying your best to return such actions of affections. He rested his cheek against your cheek, taking his free hand to interlace his fingers with yours as he felt you tighten when he rolled his hips, aiming for the spot that kept making you clench.

“’C’mon, cum fer me, Baby. Lemme feel ya milk a century’s worth dry.” He growled into your ear, eager at the prospect as much as you were as you suddenly stiffened, your walls tightening around him desperately as you let out a whine, chasing the fleeting feeling as you reached down and gripped his fingers onto your clit.

“T-Taishiro! O-overstim-ula-t-ed!” You cried out, tears pooling around your eyes in frustration as your body kept clenching around him and the electricity of your high was going haywire, consuming you into a mess.

“J-just a lil! More!” He tore his hand away, sitting up as he gripped one hand on your waist tightly, and the other pressed down on your back, snapping his hips, churning your sensitive walls with an animalisitc frenzy. You could only whine, laying there and taking it as your mind was in a blank state as you felt him get bigger, suddenly. To your relief, he gave one final thrust.

A hot warmth coated your raw insides, mixing in with your own cum as you felt him still. You whined softly as you felt full. Moments passed as the two of you huffed and panted, letting the cool air chill the two of your sweaty bodies down. He pulled out of you gingerly, you whimpered at the loss as you felt cum and slick leak out. He paid no mind, plopping down to the side of you, and pulling you back onto his stomach as the two of you took each other in, cooling down from intense highs.

He cupped your face, and began trailing soft kisses wherever he could reach, and you couldn’t help but rasp out giggles, the fog clearing from your head as you descended back towards your normal mental state of closure.

“Beautiful. Mmm, ya took me so well, an’ ya looked so pretty n’ debauched. Don’t care, I’m gunna say it, Princess. I love ya.” He admitted so softly, hands smoothing down your back as you felt your heart softened as you gazed down at him.

“I love you, too. I know for sure that I will love you more when time passes.” You kissed him tenderly, letting your own growing affections seep into the kiss, and he let out an odd guttural of purring, enjoying the fulfilling feeling of a partner doting on him. The lights flickered, as if trying to lull you to sleep, but you weren’t sleepy, yet.

“I want to talk. What’s your favorite color? Why do you purr? How did you meet your sons? I want to know every bit about you.” You murmured into his chest, peeking at him through lashes, enjoying the surprised and pleased look that you were receiving. You didn’t care about the time, letting him ramble at each question you had, enjoying the way his heartbeat quickened as his breathing chest fell up and down, him talking excitedly as he threw in his own questions, pleased to know about you, more.

“Ah~! I don’t think ya can’t get any cuter~.” He rubbed his nose against yours in affection, and you were surprised to hear the familiar purr echo through his chest.

“What about your purring?”

“Yeah, happens now an’ then when I’m truly happy.”

“That’s wholesome and cute.” You admitted truthfully, liking the way his eyes danced with light at your confession.

“I wanna go again.” He said suddenly, and you flushed, realizing that he was stirring to life, again. You didn’t mind. You told him, and he smiled, kissing you.

“We’ll take it a lil’ more slow, this time. Face to face. Preferably ya kissin’ me, more.” He smiled, pinching your cheek playfully. You kissed him in false retaliation.

“Yer still a lil’ wet, so ya wouldn’t mind if I just-?” He asked, and you nodded, feeling his member catch onto the rim of your used entrance, the both of you moaning as he slid in easier, this time. You were wet and loosened, and instead of focusing on chasing your highs, the two of you paid attention to each other.

Not many words were said as you did what you pleased, kissing, touching, and enjoying his softened expression at your inquisitive hands as he held onto you, returning your affectionate gestures as the atmosphere resonated with the flickering candles: soft and romantic as the two of your hips met in a slow, sensual pace, not racing against time as you felt him continue to purr, much to your satisfaction.

You were still satisfied from earlier, but he still managed to make you cum again, this time it wasn’t as intense, but it didn’t matter, for your head cleared a little more quicker, getting to enjoy his desperate look as he quickened his pace. He looked debauched and desperate, eyebrows furrowed downward, pools of wetness gathering at his eyes as he bit his lip, only to open his mouth and call out your name as once again, he came inside of you.

“Damn, I think that I can forever make love to ya.” He panted out, sweaty chest rising and falling as one of your hands soothed circles around his waist, the other bringing his own to your lips as you kissed the back tenderly.

“I feel the same.” You admitted truthfully, and he let out another set of purrs.

……….

“Oh my goooooood! Oh my god! Sister! Where have you beeeeeen?! It’s been like, a year since we’ve last seen you!” Your friend hugged you tightly, relieved tears threatened to spill. Taishiro and you had decided to take a visit on the earthen realm to collect the rest of your things, if the villagers hadn’t destroyed your hut, that is. Luckily, your place was left untouched, and you came across the wondering group of girls, fretting over you, your state of dress, and looking at Taishiro with concern.

“Sis, did you finally summon a hireling? He doesn’t look like a gremlin?” One asked. You had to keep in your laughter as your husband’s eye twitched with annoyance.

“Um, I used a different method on the summoning spell. This is my husband, Taishiro.”

“Whaaaaa-?”

“King of hell, keeper of souls, blah blah. Look, me an’ my Queen are going to go, now. Yer all annoyin’.” He griped, snapping his fingers as the portal to your home had opened, not giving your friends time to wave their goodbyes as he dragged you home, and oddly enough, you didn’t mind.

……..

Your eyes glinted in the moonlight as the juice from the pomegranate seeds stained your lips red as you eyed the stunned man. Centuries had passed, and you and your husband had lost track of time, not aging as your magic grew in power, melding perfectly with his. Your adopted sons had moved on, finding their own mates, bringing them to your realm to visit regularly, and your love for Taishiro grew immeasurably.

Unfortunately, since he was an ancient demon, he had to reincarnate once every one thousand years, letting his soul reset into a body although resembled his own, his memories were long gone, leading you onto a twenty-nine year old man-hunt for your reincarnated lover.

“I may have a use for you, yet.” You let the words soothe over the young magic user, his eyes widened in something akin to recognition, although confused.

“Alright, Dumplin, What’dya need?” His accent was the same, except it belonged to a young man, this time, and not a demon.

“I’m Queen of hell, lady of the lost souls, and I’m in need of a king.”

“So familiar…” He gripped his head, eyeing you with confusion, yet there was a hint of your husband’s glint within those eyes.

“It’s because you know me. Very well.” You hummed at his confused expression.

“Alright, I’m curious. Lead me.” He gave in.

You smiled. It wouldn’t take long for the two of you to be reunited, after all.

………..

End! Give Thanks and Credit to Rita, or youtubequeens on tumblr for the idea and us brainstorming! I tried to fix any plot holes, I fell in love with the setting and mythology and other things, so I’m pretty proud of this fic :3

#Taishiro Toyomitsu #Fatgum #fatgum x reader #mythology #demons #witchcraft #A lot of things really #I don't know why I added the familiar #I just like bunnies #Hades and Persephone vibes #This is for you Rita #I hope you like it #I tried #Plotholes but imagination #Ig #Sorry #Will I stop being a simp?#No

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