#we're getting mystical

[daemonbrain]

~3.4k, cw: smut, size kink, p in v, overstimulation if you squint, fairy!reader, hes a monster hunter

Simon Riley, the monster hunter guild's most valuable asset. Whenever a high bounty was set out for one creature or another Simon was there. Werewolves taking all your sheep? He’s all stocked up on silver. Vampire terrorizing the town? Get him some matches and a stake, it’ll be gone come morning.

Those with real connections to the guild know that if you want a job done, you ask for ‘Ghost’. Contrary to the scars which littered his body, it wasn't all fighting the big bad wolf and risking his life. Occasionally he would get lucky with a low-risk high-reward job. Paired with his brute strength, he also had extensive knowledge on the supernatural and their habits. 

He had taken up a job for an anonymous businessman to nab a fairy. Fucks sakes he almost burst out laughing when he got the request, only to be met with a very serious expression.

Fairies, notoriously hard to trap and contain. It’s said that any who can lock one down will be granted prosperity for the rest of their days. Their laughs attract wealth, their dust makes little specks of gold, their tears harden into diamonds. 

Now of course, greed of humans and all, fairies had gone into some pretty deep fuckin’ hiding. Forests with heaps of danger weeding out any fools who tried to find one on a whim. If you got far enough the things were smaller than your finger and moved faster than you could blink, the only thing assuring you that they were there was the mocking little giggles that would sound out before they flew back into hiding.

It’s even rumored that they can turn themselves into the size of a fully grown woman at will. They're supposed to be prettier than any tavern wench you’d see on a regular night, or the fairest of maids if the songs were to be believed. Simon had never seen one though, so that was to be taken with a grain of salt.

You were a difficult catch. Pissed Simon off plenty of times with your dodging, your mocking titters. You just thought he was a passing traveller trying his luck. Sorely mistaken you were. It was when he began burning a mystery plant and your eyes grew hazy that you realized your misconception. Dropping from the sky as you struggled to hold up your own weight.

How humiliating! To fall for a mere man's tricks! He tricked you into believing he was foolish and you took the bait just like he intended. Even through the thick glass of the jar you could see your squirrel friends who looked on in worry from the trees. To be outfoxed by one of them, it infuriated you.

Which made it all the more terrible as he sat with his back pressed to the trunk of a tree, face illuminated by the fire looking at you angrily raising your tiny fist to the glass yammering who knows what in gibberish. He shook the jar in his hands gently, watching as your wings flapped rapidly to steady yourself. One had been injured on the drop and he could tell it was a struggle for you to stay upright. You’d occasionally dip a bit too low and by the look of shock on your face, he knew it wasn’t intentional.

One could almost mistake you for a pint sized human. An annoying one (though most people bothered the hunter, miniature or not). You certainly had the anatomy of one, none of the modesty though, with only leaves to cover your more intimate parts. He watched as you crossed your arms and began to point at the lid he fashioned to have minuscule air holes. Yelling in your grating foreign tongue once more, which really only sounded like little squeaks to Simon, the fight clearly returned back full force after you regained consciousness from the jimsonweed. 

He really took a gamble with that one. He was quite proud of himself to be honest. He’d never actually caught a fairy for himself, only hearing chatter from other members of the guild that your kind were sensitive to hallucinogens.  

You’d fetch a good price and to top it off Simon wasn’t walking around with a new batch of bruises. A win-win. Except for you that is. Bringing his attention back to you, he notices you’ve taken to pounding the cork lid with your hands as if that would make any difference.

However, upon seeing Simon’s dark eyes on you, you scowl yet reluctantly stop and float to the bottom of the jar. “Thas wha’ I thought” He said while rolling his eyes. He placed the jar in his travelling satchel and closed his eyes more than ready for a rest before having to hit the road again. 

...

Simon had woken up with the burning and familiar feeling in his loins. Groaning, his eyes open wearily only to be met with nothing but the trees and grass around him. What the hell?

He groggily wiped at his eyes. Trying to take focus on whatever it was that was rousing him from sleep. The only thing noticeable being the significant drop in temperature as the night went on.

What was wrong with him? Has not visiting someone's bed in so long made him that desperate?    He had places to be tomorrow, there was no time to be wasting jerking it in the middle of nowhere. Huffing, he closes his eyes and abstinently ignores the need which he feels building inside his belly unprompted.

He had sensed something was wrong when his cock once again slapped against the confines of his breeches. He knew something was wrong when a small but pitchy squeal followed.

“Fuckin’ hell”

His eyes widen in disbelief as he watches his trousers ripple with movement not his own. He lifts the waistband only to be met with two eyes narrowed right back at him, as if you were the one being inconvenienced. He was suddenly hyper aware of the fact that both your arms and legs enveloped half the circumference of his cock, bobbing with every movement. 

What. The. Fuck.

“What’re you bloody doing? How did you get free?!” He huffed while reaching for you, staunchly ignoring the way his blood began to run hot at your unintentional ministrations. As that monstrous looking hand approached, you stiffly moved, your body still too frigid from the cold, to nestle into the juncture where all of… him… connected to his balls.

When the hunter had fallen asleep, you had screamed and pleaded for any of your forest friends to hear. After a lot of begging, and a promise to help collect acorns for the winter which seemed to approach faster and faster this year, you had managed to convince one of the squirrels to gnaw through the lid of your prison. Too far from the safety of your home, you needed a place to seek shelter from the near freezing temperatures. 

Unfortunately, still weakened from your initial fall and the wind harshly prickling at your skin, you realized you were ground-bound. Trying as you might, you failed to scale the tall tree and make it into the squirrel's nest for refuge. With no other option, you were faced with the reality that the safest place for the night would be close to the human. After a few minutes pacing along the expanse of his body, you navigate your way to the warmest spot.

It smelt heavily of his musk, not the sweetest thing you had ever smelt, but not unpleasant by any means. You had tried to fall asleep, twisting and turning. You had rubbed the skin until it felt warm to the touch and pressed your cheek against it, all in an effort to make yourself more comfortable. Every minute you stayed on it the twitching got worse! So much so that you felt your body rising up, up, and up until you were harshly hit against the scratchy fabric of his breeches.

Bringing you to your current predicament as he whisper-yelled in his gruff accent. Truth be told, you could understand every word he said, you just didn’t like speaking old english. Your mother tongue was much prettier.

“C’mere.” he huffed as he nearly caught you by the leg. You may not be able to fly, but you sure could climb away as you made your way further to the tip of him. You had almost made it before a slow approaching bead of viscous liquid rolled in your path.  You were quick to move out of its way, unfortunately not quick enough to avoid Simon’s fingers as he dragged you from the safety of your shelter out into the abrasive open. 

Your abdomen was pinched between his thumb and forefinger as he looked at you expressionless. Somewhere in the struggle, your leafy garb had shifted, rendering one of your breasts exposed. You quaked violently, but your mind insisted it was the cold. A deeper part of you knew the giant staring down at you may have had a small part in it.

“Now you listen ‘ere, I don’t know what you know abou’ people but ‘m not the type of man to enjoy someone poking round my bits while ‘m sleeping. How did you even get out of the jar?”

Willing yourself to calm down, you muster the defiance and bravery to resist. Crossing your arms, you glowered back at the giant.

“It’s cold.” You finally spoke up.

With a laugh that sounded like a breathy cough, the man roved his eyes over your near-naked form.

“So you do speak english. Could’a started off with that. And I'd bet you were cold, people don’t normally have their teats out in this kinda weather.” Simon mocked. You scowled at his words. If this had been a normal day, you’d already be wrapped up warmly in your little nook. It was entirely his fault you were out here like this and yet you were the one being lectured.

“I’m not a person! And I wouldn’t be cold or outside if you hadn’t taken me. How do you live with yourself? You greedy things. You’re all the same you take and take and- mmph” You’re suddenly interrupted by a light squeeze to your midsection. 

“You wanna warm up so bad? Fine. ‘Ve got a way.” lust creeping into his tone.

Suddenly, your legs were being knocked apart. With a gentleness you wouldn’t think possible for a person his size, you feel the soft trace of his pinkie inching towards what rests between your thighs. Instinctually, your body tried to jolt away but with the tight hold he had on you there was nowhere to go. The little fight you had in you quickly faded as the pad of his finger covered the entirety of your cunt.

Fairies weren’t conceived in the way humans were, your own conception a mystery. You did not have parents, nor a family. You simply were. You had been for what could be measured in over a hundred years according to civilizations calendars. You had pleasured yourself many times before, your only company being your own fingers when the mysterious urge would come over you. It was never a feeling you dwelled on, always finding other ways to occupy your time.

But the feeling of his cool finger prodding at the juncture between your legs set a fire in the pit of your belly you couldn't understand. Your sensitivity was palpable as he began to shift the finger around, presumably trying to emulate what he would do to a regular woman. 

You shuddered and your eyes began to flutter close at the feeling. Suddenly, his hand pulled away much to your initial disappointment only to be replaced by the heat of his tongue.

Now this was new.

“H-hey, wait-”

A squeal left you at the feeling of the warm, wet muscle butting its way in. Even just the tip of his tongue was too large to catch on to your entrance. It was overwhelming as you felt the lower half of your body drenched, the size causing a lack of precision that made you want to weep. So close, yet so far from what you needed.

You had to do something. You just had to.

As Simon began to maneuver you to lay back on to his palm you shook your and held your hands up to arrest his movement.

“Had enough already?” He questioned, tilting his head while his brown eyes sparked with a hint of debauchery. 

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes and channeled your energy to the very core of yourself. You may regret this later.

Slowly but surely, your body began to stretch and warp itself as your size increased. Soon enough Simon’s hands adjusted to hold your growing figure as you assumed a more useful human form. 

His eyes widened as he let out a breathy chuckle, exploring your much more touchable form. Whatever had scantily covered you before had been shed as you sat bare before him. Although you were the size of an average woman, the man in front of you still towered above, even when seated.

Maybe he really was a giant. 

Taking a breath you steadied yourself by gripping his firm bicep, yet another large part of him. Grabbing your jaw with a single hand he softly moves your head upwards to face him. Without another word his lips were on you again, kissing at the delicate and untouched skin of your neck.

The sensation was unlike anything you’d ever experienced.You had been much alone for decades, though the critters of your forest kept good company through these times, there were many things they could not provide.

Large hands groped every bit of skin they could touch, as Simon reached your clavicle, you sharply inhaled as he began to bite at the skin. You felt lost, the only familiar feeling being wetness pooling between your legs as the unfamiliar bulge beneath you continued to press into your cunt.

You felt helplessly susceptible to his relentless attack, eyes going glassy from the strange pressure building in you. Your head began to lull, forehead pressing to Simon’s shoulder.

Grabbing the back of your head he raises you once again, snaking his free hand between your legs. “None of that, it’s alright, yeah? ‘M gonna take good care of ‘ya.” He reassured you as his thick fingers began to rub at your pearl. 

It was when his mouth met yours that you truly gave up. No shame as a wanton moan came from you. He swallowed the sound and began to push his tongue through your lips much to your confusion, though as he pushed a little harder at your clit, you trusted that he knew what he was doing. Allowing him in, all you could feel was him.

Nothing else mattered.

He parted from you and urgently began guiding you to the ground. No longer did the chill in the air bother you as he began to take off his breeches. Pushing your thighs as far as they could part, he positions himself between them, tugging at his cock while looking at your pretty face.

So the songs were right.

His body shielded you from everything which surrounded the two of you. The cold, the outside world, the only thing keeping you grounded was the twigs that peskily poked at your back. 

“I want you. I need you.” You begged. You didn’t know what this was, all you knew was that your insides roared for closeness.

“Do you even know what you’re askin’ for?”

He meanly slapped himself to your cunt. For the first time, you looked down to see where he had made the connection. You didn’t know how big a cock was supposed to be, but looking at the sheer difference between it’s hulking size and yourself you feared that he wasn’t the average man.

“I’ll fuck you if you let me. With this-” He waved the thing like a damn blade “You know what fucking means right? It’s gonna go inside of you.”

Absolutely not! It would ruin you. It would scramble your insides until they were so misplaced your poor body wouldn’t know what to do.

Your mouth fell slack as he gave your head a soft pat. Putting your hands to his shoulders, you shake your head in shock.

“Wait! wait  that- no it won’t, that won’t fit!” You stammered as Simon compared his length to your belly.

“It’ll fit. I’ll make it fit.”

Repositioning himself, he drags the bulbous tip up and down while knocking into your clit a few times. You squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation, digging your fingers into his arms. The head of his cock slowly pushed in.

Simon gritted his teeth while restraining himself from slamming all the way to the base and gosh it was difficult. It had been so long since he felt the touch of a woman- fuck, a fairy, whatever the hell you were right now. Your little cunny squeezed him unbelievably tight and it was so warm. 

He felt you try to push his chest closer to yours in a silent plea for closeness and he almost went dizzy. Obliging you, he puts a forearm to the right of you and then slips his left hand under your head to push you closer.

You whined as he cradled you, the action so soft as his hips continued to push through whatever resistance your muscles still held. Remembering the way he nipped at your flesh earlier, you found yourself with the urge to bite at the meat of his bicep. Indulging that urge, you heard a groan leave his lips and it's as if something snapped in the hunter.

Forgoing the snail-like pace, his cock slid in inch by inch until you were filled to the brim. The two of you take a moment to catch your breath. You felt so full. Is this what your body had been craving all along? This fucking. Had it been waiting for Simon to make his way to you?

You couldn’t be sure the logic behind all of this, but you did know that you needed him now. Peering up, you gaze upon his features and realize that perhaps humans do have a certain beauty to them.

“Please.” You asked.

And he answered. Slowly at first he began to thrust in, as your noises continued to grow louder the faster he got. Soon enough he began to hammer his hips to yours as you all screamed in ecstasy.

He fucked you and he continued to fuck you and it all felt so very good. You felt so drunk of the pleasure, as if one more thrust would kill you, yet if he stopped you would surely die.

“Please hunter, please!” Placing his forehead on yours, his breaths came heavy

“My name is Simon. Call me Simon.” Another thrust. “Do it. Say my name.”

HIs voice only spurred you closer and closer to some edge as your nails dragged against his skin.

“Say it love, say it.” He finally met your eyes as your body rocked with his every movement.

“Simon!” You called out as an overwhelming peak washed over you. Your cunt spasmed around him, trapping him there in your warm leaky mess as he chased his own high. You felt yourself go limp as he bit into the juncture between your shoulder and neck with a velvet moan.

And at the final slam of his hips, he pushed his entire body into yours. Your head pushed uncomfortably against the tree behind you with the weight. His cock fully sheathed into you as he unloaded every drop of cum he had to offer you, coating your insides with the gooey fluid. 

There was silence until you let out an exhausted giggle. Simon looked down at you through long lashes and shook his head in amazement. In awe of you who so casually laughed while still speared on his cock and full of his cum.

Reaching for your hair he untangles a twig which had gotten caught in it. Stroking your loose strands, he broke the silence.

“Fuck the buyer, ’m keeping you little fairy.”

As he said that, a shooting star passed overhead. Fairies really were lucky.

[poobirdy]

Oh my gosh, I'm a new fan of Mystic Messenger this year 2024 😁. I'm gotta say I love your art and your Daycare AU. Do you know the song Thank You and Goodnight? Listening to that song make me cry because of nostalgia about this game despite I'm a new fan, also The Night We Met remind me of this game too

omg hello, new mystic messenger fan in the year 2024!!! /SHAKING UR HAND!! i just gave the song a listen, and you're right—it's very nostalgic and also sums up my feelings for mysme very well! the game's given me a lot of fond memories to look back on, and i hope it does the same for you! as for the daycare au, thank you hehe!!! i had fun with it and i had IDEAS... that i no longer remember. the kids would probably be in middle/high school now that i think about it! again, ty for taking the time to message! it's always nice to revisit mysme!

[mystical-one]

its actually unironically insane to me how different bob dylan looked when he would sing his electric sets. this little thing who had been croaking out folk songs a year earlier is suddenly screaming into a microphone at the top of his lungs to point where it contorts his entire countenance and changes his whole character....theres something so visceral about his desire to be LOUD and he sings everything with such conviction and it's like watching some kind of creature trying to shapeshift out of its own skin

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

I Just Getting Idea About The Prompts.

What if Was Ancient Cookies Are Swapped With Beast's Cookies :3

Ooooh, so a Role-swap AU? Sounds pretty neat!

Requested Prompts #12 - ✦

Less of a story prompt and more of an AU prompt in general where I explain to the best of my ability of what I think the AU would be like. Also note that the soul jams don't really align with the roles in this au.

First off, we're starting with the Former Beast Cookies( Aka Shadow Milk and co.) First off, is Shadow Milk Cookie, ruler of the faerie kingdom(takes place of the vanilla kingdom here). A Trickster at heart but he is willing to help when needed. He's a... semi-responsible king, he's more of an actor than royalty... Or should I say a clown? Next up, Burning Spice Cookie in Hollyberry Cookie's role!- I... Don't have much for this guy, which is unfortunate. But, for what I do have, the Spice Kingdom is a Kingdom of brave warriors, and there's a lot of dragons as well... That's all I have, moving on then! Next up, we have Silent Salt as the ruler of the Salt Kingdom(Cacao Kingdom)! The land is embedded in an eternal winter with salt as snow, the king having grand strength and few words to share. But when the king does speak, it's almost always meaningful in some way. After that, Eternal Sugar as the ruler of the (unnamed replacement kingdom for the golden cheese kingdom because i couldn't think of one). The reason I have Eternal Sugar in Golden Cheese Cookie's role here is because well, Goddess of eternal Gold? Eternal Sugar? I just made that connection and ran with it. And finally, we have Mystic Flour, taking on the role of White Lily cookie... And eventually Dark Enchantress as well. But DE is called Dark Priestess Cookie instead. The reason I have Mystic Flour cast as White Lily is because I have a feeling that the two are rather similar. Also, fun fact but in this au Mystic Flour is not the first to seek the truth behind why they, the cookies, were created.

And now, onto the corrupted ancients... Or rather just Pure Vanilla Cookie. Pure Vanilla takes upon the attribute of deceit, but not because he deceives most other cookies, he doesn't tend to do that. Rather, he deceives himself... and his friends. He watched them turn to madness, all after a single, horrid truth found out by White Lily Cookie had been told to them. After all, if cookies were meant to be eaten, then why not spare them from such a terrible fate by ending their lives before they could be eaten? He deceives himself, thinking that the good within his friends had not yet vanished. And he deceives them, by keeping them sealed away under the guise that the Witches had done it. He doesn't speak in fear of his deceit being revealed, and may be the only one of them that isn't too warped to feel guilt over what they had done anymore. As for the others? Well, I can't assign them roles for certain. But I'll let you know that they've all committed atrocities.

[cconfusedkat]

Part 3 of re-doing refs! Our first Bishop is Shamura 🕷 originally I planned making theirs last but I kinda want to make it in order each of the Bishops would arrive as followers. I wanted to give them their own two outfits, and to have them stand out for their cult wear (like the rest of the bishops with their gold) and so a purple cloak it would be!! The other four also wear cloaks in accords to their old crown colors

And their casual outfit felt more fitting too,, they like to be outside a lot and so I figured their outfit being most similiar to Goat's cult wear could be more settling for them

Headcanons!! I forgot to add that they don't really talk to many people outside of their family and disciples, their social interactions mainly consist of their "students" (since they're technically a teacher but technically not) at the morgue. With that in mind,, they have more empathy with objects and smaller beings rather than people,, so they frequently talk to a group of little spider's that gather outside of Silk Cradle just for them

And ofc a blank!! I think their outfit isn't too bad, I like the final detail :-D their sister will be next for tomorrow 🕺

[marshmallowprotection]

I keep seeing headcanons and imagines about us/self-inserts being like..;;; always on Unknown's lap or being held there by him as like a comfort thing (I think?) or just to chill there with him

But like ;;;

I wholeheartedly know that they're are all just requests and stuff and it seems to be an idea accepted by so many people and how they like to imagine being with Unknown

But like;;

Me personally, I just. I just...don't like it..(??)

It just makes me uncomfortable for some reason and actually kinda scares me a little, the thought of being just;; grabbed and held? And;; on his lap??

It wouldn't be something I'd want to do, I mean. ;;

So I guess

Is there like..;; anything else I could do with him that wouldn't involve being so close?

See, when I thought of that concept years ago and I started working with it in my writing, it wasn't meant to be perceived as a comfort in the beginning. It was a power play. It was meant to make you feel as uncomfortable as it sounds. Unknown took you from the apartment as a knee-jerk reaction to the fact that you didn't know how to listen to him.

What's the very best way to make you feel uncertain of yourself in a situation where you have no control?

Well, in Unknown's rationale, that's to make you see what he's doing with no escape. This can be particularly even more unsettling if you were close to the RFA. Unknown's not a morally sound person, he's driven by apathy and revenge, and there's a reason why he's not the one with the route. To be able to capture his heart would take you a long time, and that kind of story arc isn't one you can complete in a mere cycle of 11 days, even for a game like MM which does it best to speed-run what would take months already.

This isn't meant to be seen as a good thing, not by any means. I don't always write the unsettling parts because I like to focus on the parts that come later once his walls are down, but this is just one of those things that people like to talk about with Unknown. What would he do in a situation where he has his assistant? He won't do what Ray does. I can affirm that. Ray wanted you to be with him and Unknown didn't want you like that.

The concept changes when we explore the foundation of these ideas.

It's not supposed to sound appealing at first. Though, it becomes a point of comfort for many people because not only does this make you vulnerable, it forces Unknown to be vulnerable as well. You can hear the sound of his every heartbeat, the way his hands twitch, and feel how his body strains itself every step of the way. At some point, it's impossible for him to maintain the air of unsettling fear. You're first when it comes to witnessing this man at his worst.

I understand that it makes you feel uncomfortable, though. That's not everyone's cup of tea. I hope you know that this is just one concept a lot of Unknown fans lot to navigate but it's not a definitive of who he is as a person. We don't know what Unknown would do with someone as his assistant, and there's just things that we've agreed on as a fan collective over the years that have shaped how we write him as your boss.

Just because some fans write him doing this doesn't mean you have to write him doing that, and it certainly doesn't mean you have to imagine something that makes you uncomfortable.

I'm glad you reached out to say something because you're afraid that this concept means Unknown would pointedly make you feel bad and that's not good when you're hunting for fluff. You don't have to like it. That's down to personal preference! You should request stuff from us imagine blogs with the things you're into! I know that my mutuals will be more than happy to write you stuff like I am.

The last thing any of us wants to make someone feel left out.

When it comes to Unknown's proximity, it's hard for me to tell you that he'll leave you with your own personal space. Even in the game, his voice is a whisper that gets louder the closer he gets to you, and that implies that he will get closer to you if he thinks it would be to his benefit to cage you like an animal. But, by that, I mean, the worst you can deal with is him whispering in your ears, pushing you against the wall to laugh at your fear-stricken face, or circling you when you try to explain how you did something.

He doesn't have to pin you to his lap to prove that he's got the upper hand.

But, if you're looking for a comfort thing as opposed to trying to find something that doesn't unnerve you like the lap stuff, I suppose you could be subjected to hand-holding. He's not big on cuddling or stuff like that. But, let's see, I don't think he's immune to holding your hand while you sit on opposite ends of the couch. He hates proximity until it benefits him somehow. Sitting with you is a big thing for him, so if it brings you comfort, he'll stargaze with you when he's got time for a break. Apart but together.

This kind of overlaps later on with him as SE Saeran pushes away most physical contact outside of parallel play and sitting together. Because SE Saeran is just Unknown after the Secret Ending. They hold onto the same ideals, the only difference is that there's no more elixir and anger to drive his ideals.

[mysticcomfort]

Helloooooo friend!(?)

It’s been a while- sorry

On the bright side I’m off hiatus, so I’ll probably be appearing more? I hope?

How have you been tho? How’s life:D

Cookies? 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

-✨anon✨

THE BRINGER OF COOKIES HAS RETURNED!!!

Don't apologize! I haven't exactly been active myself sorry

Life has been...very lifey XD lots of unexpected things. But making it through!

[natasha-in-space]

HIIIIIIIII DARLING

I'm sorry my hyperactive squirrel brain is excited to request because mystic messanger has been occupying my brain.

Anyways since your requests are open I was thinking

Zen X reader confession??? Like Zen confessing to reader,how he would do it and blablabla (also if it's possible without any spoilers for the story since I'm on the 10th day rn so y'now)

Anyways eat well and don't forget to drink (⁠づ⁠｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡⁠)⁠づ

Thank you, dear anon! I hope you stay hydrated and eat well just as much. I had a lot of fun writing out your request! So much so that I decided to go with Zen's POV as well as your own. I hope you enjoy it :)

Zen was a hopeless romantic.

Perhaps it was just a side effect of all the exciting romance plots he always enjoyed acting out throughout his career, or maybe it was a natural part of who he was as a person. If you would ask him this directly, he wouldn't really know how to answer. Maybe, it was a combination of both. He longed for a meaningful connection with someone from a very early age, even if it wasn't necessarily romantic at the time. Songs and musicals gradually opened up his eyes to such an enormous array of breathtaking stories, full of people caring and loving ond another in so many difficult ways, both romantic as well as platonic... Something he couldn't really experience in his own home life. It was only natural for him to eventually start fantasizing about something similar on his own.

But, even despite all that... He never expected to fall for you so fast and so hard. The butterflies in his stomach he would have to deal with whenever he opened up the messenger as soon as he woke up and wondered whether or not he will see you there... how nice it would be to talk to you first thing in the morning, and how much he wanted to ask you about your plans for the day. The ticklish warmth blooming in his chest so breathtakingly whenever you would ask him about his day in turn, such genuine excitement felt in your sweet voice as he would talk to you over the phone in between his rehearsals... In fact, he got in trouble with his manager a few times already for always sneaking off to talk to you. He had no regrets. The many daydreams he would mull over in his own head as he ran his usual evening laps around his neighborhood... Thinking of how wonderful it would be to share his evening routine with you by his side. Would you two bicker like an old married couple? Or, maybe you'll stick together like glue? He couldn't help but want to find out.

It was all pretty dizzying to deal with already, in the best way possible, of course. It's been so long since he experienced the exciting feeling of falling in love.

But, when you showed up at his apartment? All worried for him of all people? He came to the realization that he was too deep to swim back out. Not like he wanted to, anyways. No matter how depressed and discouraged he would become, deep down, he knew he didn't want to let you go. You were the warm ray of sunlight he longed for. You supported him, you respected him, you encouraged him, and...

God, he hoped you would love him.

He made an effort to keep his sentimental heart under control for now. He wanted to be a proper gentleman to you! He wanted to take things nice and slow with you. Not to mention the scandal weighing down on his career currently, making his future rather unstable at best. You deserved someone who could provide for you and care for you... You deserved someone with a stable future. It wouldn't feel right for Zen to confront you with his feelings when he couldn't give you anything in return. At least, that's how he viewed it.

That is until he had to rush in to save you from that damn hacker.

Zen was aware of the danger this world possessed. Hell, he went through so many dangerous situations in his not so long lifetime, he could easily write an entire book about it, if he put his mind to it. But, nothing could compare to the paralyzing fear he felt in his very soul at the prospect of you being in danger, and him being unable to do anything about it. It made him act out in a way he hadn't in a long time. He will probably apologize to Seven for outright screaming at him to provide him the address to Rika's apartment... after giving him a piece of his mind at the party, that is.

Knowing that you were safe and sound beside him was an overwhelming relief that words couldn't describe. It was so strong, that his legs nearly gave out from underneath him the moment you two got back to his apartment. Still, he did his best to appear strong. For you. So that you could rely on him.

But... there was something else, too.

After almost losing you like that, he realized that he couldn't wait until the right moment to confess his feelings for you. Now, he knew more than ever, just how precious you became to him in a short amount of time that you have spent with him. And, truth is, he didn't want to hold back on his feelings anymore. You told him that he deserved to be selfish sometimes... So, as the day slowly faded into night, he gathered all his courage and paddled over to the tiny kitchen, where you resided currently.

"...Y/N?"

You were caught off guard and gasped as you whirled around to look at him with wide eyes. Damn it. He probably should have warned you first. You were probably still so shaken after everything that happened back at the apartment... He chastised himself internally before raising his hands up in the air to comfort you.

Well, no time like the present.

⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

"My bad, my bad! Didn't mean to startle you. You okay?" Zen watched you with a worried expression plastered all over his beautifully sculpted face. Seeing him there caused your head to fill up with various thoughts for some reason. So many things have happened in the span of just ten measly days. And yet, it felt like months have passed. Figuring out your own feelings amid all this chaos was practically impossible!

"I- Yes, sorry! I just got lost in my head for a moment there." You laughed it off awkwardly. It was peculiar. Zen was always gorgeous, such is his fate. You thought it was only natural for you to get just a little bit flustered in his presence, especially if it's just the two of you in an enclosed space. But, right now, he was rather disheveled. His long hair was tied up in a messy bun, a couple of locks falling over his face rather adorably, his clothes were wrinkled from all the running you two went through today, and his face looked stricken with worry. And yet, somehow, you felt even more drawn to him than ever. He almost sparkled in that cheap kitchen lighting, much to your embarrassment. You couldn't even write it off on the possible moonlight, because his apartment had no windows!

As you stood staring at him, Zen began speaking with a nervous expression. "Y/N, to tell you the truth, I... have decided something after everything that happened to us today."

"Oh?" Just hearing him mention the horrible events of today's morning made all the color drain from your face. What was he going to tell you? You honestly had no idea, but, for some reason, your anxious mind came up with all sorts of worrying options. You sure hoped he wouldn't make you go back to that apartment... You were honestly not above begging if it came down to it. The thought of returning there was too much to handle.

Your chest felt incredibly tight with worry as you waited for him to continue with bated breath. Zen took a deep breath and then raised his piercing gaze back at you, making your heart skip a beat. And it wasn't due to the anxiety this time around. "What I want to say... is my true feelings. I know I already made it obvious that I like you, but... I want to say it properly this time around. I love you."

"Uh-" A small squeak slipped passed your lips as your breath got stuck in your throat. Did you hear him wrong, maybe? Did he... Did he really... So, you tried to pull yourself together and clarify. No reason to freak out just yet! "I... Did I... Did I hear that right? You... love me?"

"Yes, you heard it all precisely right. I love you, Y/N. As a person. As a partner. I love you." He didn't even hesitate. He spoke with confidence, his words were clear and loud enough for you to hear everything.

You could feel yourself freezing up again, the heat rushing to your cheeks before you could do anything to stop it. This was so different from the way you expected this conversation to go! Here you were, worrying about him sending you back to Rika's apartment, but instead he... confessed his love to you!? Amidst all the ticklish feelings of infatuation, came the feeling of great relief, making your shoulders slump forward.

Zen continued, carefully watching your reaction as he spoke. "I know that this is an inconvenient time for something like this. I know that the prospect of being with me in a romantic sense may be very stressful for you. But, please let me say this to you anyway. Y/N... I love you. I think... I think I fell for you even before we met face-to-face."

Zen's tender gaze made your legs feel weak from the intensity of his gaze. The eagerness in his beautiful ruby eyes conveyed more than even a thousand words ever could. He loved you. That's what his eyes told you. There was no doubt about it.

"You have always been so... genuinely supportive of me. You told me that I... that I am inspiring to you, both inside and out. You never saw me as just my looks. You never once doubted me during this recent scandal. Even when I doubted myself. You believed in me when no one else did. You... You don't know just how much you saved me." He smiled at you, and yet, it almost looked like he was about to tear up. He looked at you as if you were the most valuable thing in the entire universe at this moment. And the implications of that made your heart race even more than it already did, if that was even possible. Before you could reply in any way, though, he continued. "...I love your smile. I love how you always look straight at me and accept me as I am, even when I was at my weakest. I love you, Y/N. Because you saw me as who I am. I never knew someone could become so special to me in such a short amount of time, but... it's you, Y/N. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Zen..." Seeing all the emotion flowing through his eyes, and hearing him pour out his heart to you like this truly made you feel lightheaded. You were happy, but it wasn't due to his appearance. Oh, you were so unbelievably happy. And on the brink of crying, too. You were so relieved that he did not plan on sending you away, but you were even more relieved that...

The fact that you were also in love with Zen brought you relief. No other reason could be possible.

This conclusion was so natural, it was as simple as adding up 2 + 2. This was more than anything you've felt with him before. This was more than the ticklish sensations of surprise or embarrassment... You were just so incredibly happy. Giddy, even. The only thing that was left for you to do was to express it.

You accomplished it. Without even thinking, you reached for him and took hold of his sleeve, stopping him before he was about to go on with his words. In hindsight, this was a bit awkward, but you didn't care. Zen's eyes widened a little as he looked at you, awaiting your next move. "Y/N?"

But, unfortunately, you were at a loss for words. While Zen had too much to say, you couldn't form a single word, even as your chest was practically vibrating from all the feelings of affection and happiness stacked within it. You and Zen just stared at one another for a moment or two, nothing but the buzzing sound of his freezer breaking through the silence. Even though you knew you loved him back, you couldn't find the right words to tell him. Was there even any need for the right words? You didn't know. It was confusing. Confusing and so damn exciting at the same time.

You decided to go for it. Blurting out anything that would come to your frazzled mind. "Z-Zen, I- Me too! I mean- Love. I love you, too. That's what I mean."

That was not awkward at all. You couldn't suppress a stupid laugh as you realized just how embarrassingly high-pitched your voice sounded. God, you were such a mess. Regardless, you continued on. In some weird way, you messing up so terribly at first made it easier to just be honest from then on.

"Sounds like a dream come true, my prince/ss". He murmured in return. And, before you could even think about it, he gently cupped your cheek, making your breath hitch. "...Can I kiss you?"

"Wait, no. That didn't come out right. What I'm trying to say is... I am so, so happy to hear you say all of these things... And I don't care about the timing, or your career, or the scandal, or anything at all. I mean- No, I do care, just- Agh, you get what I mean!" This time, Zen chuckled along with you, making your stomach fill up with butterflies at the sweet sound of it. With a happy smile, he nodded along and looked at you expectedly. This made you forget all about your reservations or nerves at once. You felt comfortable, relaxed. "What I'm trying to say here is... I want to be by your side. Supporting you. Loving you. And... And being loved by you. Does that sound okay?"

How could you refuse that?

[chipped-chimera]

So DND is going great (I traded warlock patrons, became a foiled dragonborn in the process and in a separate incident now accidentally trapped myself in the astral plane for decades just to try and make a dwarf laugh)

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

Warning: implied/referenced stalking

Ray x oc/cmc

‘You’re wonderful. Flawless, even.’

‘Mmm, flawless is pushing it.’ 

Her blush wasn’t very noticeable, a light pinkish tint on her warm brown skin, barely illuminated in the garden’s dim lighting. But Ray saw everything. Every little detail, every slight reaction; his senses were keenly honed in on every manner of her presence. He had no doubt his face looked a little flushed too but that was alright. After all, why hide it? She already knew how his heart raced for her.

‘Is it?’

‘I’m not as perfect as you think, Ray. No one is.’

‘Well, you are to me.’

‘Ahh…’ she made a flustered sound and covered her face with her hands. Ray smiled, willing her to move them. Show me your face, he thought, and as if hearing his silent plea, she parted her small hands like curtains, peeking up at him through delicate fingers.

‘You know exactly what to say to flatter someone, huh?’ 

He gave a quiet little chuckle. ‘Oh, I don’t know… I suppose it just comes easily to me when it’s you.’ He took her hands, gently peeling them away from her face and watching how her eyes widened slightly at the gesture. ‘Every moment I spend near you, I just can’t help but be aware of every single thing I like about you. Complimenting you feels like the most natural thing in the world.’ 

She flushed far more visibly at that. Ray laughed softly once more, his hands gently squeezing hers, preventing her from hiding behind them. Oh, how he delighted in those flaring cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to cup her face and gaze into those eyes, stroking her soft skin with his thumbs and muttering endless sweet praise to see just how red she would go. And he would mean every word. 

‘Um, th-thank you… I like you a lot too, Ray. Just- um- you haven’t known me for very long-’

I’ve known you for so much longer than you think… He wouldn’t dare utter such a thought out loud, however. Ray didn’t know how she would take it. She couldn’t know how many months he’d spent watching, waiting. Yearning. Would she be upset if she knew? Scared, even? Of course, he’d only ever done so with good intentions but what if she didn’t like it? What would she think of him? Would she call him a creep? Would she think him crazy if she knew exactly to what lengths he would go to keep her safe and in the palm of his hands? Would she try to run away? No, he couldn’t take that chance. He didn’t even want to even think about it.

‘I’m sure there’ll be all kinds of things you don’t like about me, to be honest. I don’t understand why you already seemed to like me so much so soon after meeting me for the first time...’

The girl’s words made him frown a little. Did she doubt his sincerity? Worse still, was it possible she was suspicious of him…?

She seemed to pick up on his concern, as she brought his hands to her chest and looked up at him, meeting his eyes with a shy but undeniably warm and reassuring smile, before she continued to speak.

‘What I mean is, I want to spend more time together, Ray. I want you to get to know me properly and I really want to know you. If you still like me so much after that… well, then we can keep going from there.’ There was still a faint blush over her features as she smiled up at him. The crinkles beneath her twinkling eyes made him think of the gentle creases and overlapping folds of petals around the stem of a rose. 

Ray wasn’t entirely sure he understood what she meant, but she’d said she liked him and that she wanted to spend more time with him, so, that was what mattered most, right?

‘I… like the sound of that. And Princess, I don’t think you could do anything at all to make me dislike you. I would do anything for you, MC.’

[extrasfromthevoid]

Draxum's Accidental Child Acquisition (part 1/?)

@tmntbestsibscompetiton

Summary: How Milo (though that's not yet her name) found her way into the Hidden City and into the care of the one and only Baron Draxum

OR Draxum's adventures in parenting.

----

In an innermost back alley of New York City, there is a very bored girl.

The plain red ball she’d been given—or found, she doesn’t remember—is nice, but she’s running out of games she can play on her own with it and there’s no one around to play with her.

She picks up the ball once again as it rolls back to her feet from where she kicked it against the brick wall.

The city around her thrums with activity, but the late hour means that there’s no one around.

How did this lone child end up in the depths of New York City alone? Well, even she doesn’t know that. It doesn’t matter to her anyway as the sole thought at the forefront of her mind is that she is incredibly bored.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a curious flicker of light in the corner of her eye. Looking up, a curious orb of light zips over her head.

Mesmerized, the rubber ball drops from her hands as she reaches up for the light. It weaves gracefully through her fingers before darting away, its pale blue light pulsing cheerfully. Without hesitation, she chases after it, heedless of the rubber ball bouncing away behind her, quickly abandoned.

The orb zips around the corner into a nearby alley and—strangely—through the wall behind a dumpster. She—being two and a half by generous estimates—didn’t even notice as she crossed a threshold from the surface city, to the hidden one. — She loses sight of the fun orb pretty quickly, but new wonders catch her attention pretty quickly as what once seemed to her to be a quiet city now explodes with light, life, and color. The toddler twirls around with wide eyes, trying to take in as much of her new environment as possible.

And boy is it a change from before. The surface city was quiet in its own way, save for the sounds of traffic and the occasional dog. She didn’t know, but it was late enough that it was now early, and while the City That Never Sleeps certainly lives up to its name, its comparatively sleepy early morning state can’t hold a candle to the sensory explosion of the underground city.

Giggling, she starts to run down the streets, weaving between the fascinating people walking around. She’s never seen such a fun place before! People walk around with extra sets of arms, horns, tails, wings, and all manner of skin colors and textures, and so much more!

The air smells of hot, spiced food, carts zoom through the air, pulled by creatures she can’t identify. Everything around her hums with life and energy.

It's exciting!

She pushes past two people to reach a balcony over looking a glittering city that follows the curves of the cavern and shining with all the colors of the rainbow.

She stands on the base of the railing though her chin only barely makes it over the top.

“Uh...who’s kid is that…?”

“Dunno. Do you see any panicked parent-looking types around?”

“Nah. Should we bother doing something?”

“Eh…it’ll work itself out. Long as they don’t bug me…”

Heedless, the toddler steps away from the balcony’s railing and continues to wander deeper into this fascinating new environment. — Baron Draxum is all around having a fairly rotten day. The Council of Heads has once again dismissed his concerns about the human threat and Big Mama has once again refused to release Lou Jitsu into his custody. Nothing seems to be going Draxum’s way today and it has left him in a foul mood.

So he’s going to indulge in a little of his favorite vendor food to help soothe his fraying nerves.

Just as he’s about to partake, something thumps into his legs harshly enough for him to stumble, nearly dropping his delectable indulgence and with it, the last shreds of his sanity.

He whips around, teeth bared in a menacing sneer at whoever was foolish enough to run into him. “Watch where you—“

Draxum's rage stutters as his eyes turn down towards the culprit. Sprawled on their back at his hooves is a toddler with two messy buns and a pair of overalls. A human toddler. Draxum wrinkles his nose in disgust as the wretched spawn blinks up at him with wide, dark eyes.

Draxum reaches down and picks the toddler up by the back of their clothes. They weigh very little. “How did you get in here, spawn?” He asks.

To his surprise—and annoyance—the spawn doesn’t answer. Instead, it lets out a shrieking laugh as it dangles from Draxum’s hand, feet kicking out wildly in the open air. It seems to enjoy being held like this, strangely enough.

Curious, Draxum glances around the mulling crowd. Various yokai go about their business, casting occasional curious glances in the direction of him and the human spawn, but none seem eager to claim it for themselves. From where he stands, Draxum spies no other humans in the crowd, and certainly no one that looks frantic enough to have misplaced this little creature.

Did it wander in her all on its own somehow? Draxum wonders.

An idea percolates in Draxum’s mind as he takes a bite of his food, looking over the tiny giggling human in his grasp. Perhaps, this could be an opportunity. After all, how often would Draxum be able to examine and study human behaviors from the outset of their infancy?

And more importantly, shape them. If some disgusting human couldn’t be bothered to keep a better eye on their own spawn, then perhaps it was better off with Draxum anyway.

Curiously, the spawn seems unperturbed by neither Draxum’s appearance nor the general sight of the Hidden City. It continues reaching for Draxum with pudgy hands, repeating the syllable “ba” over and over.

Draxum hums, mind made up. He takes a bite of his treat and then tucks the still giggling human-ling under his arm and walks off in the direction of his home and lab.

Perhaps if he’s lucky, this creature will become an excellent soldier. And wouldn’t it be ironic if the one to lead Draxum’s army to take back the surface world from those disgusting humans was human themself? He smiles a little at the thought. Yes, this may work out nicely.

——— As it turns out, raising a human spawn is harder than Draxum thought. Namely, the specimen—that Draxum has taken to simply calling Spawn—is the most disagreeable and stubborn creature humanity has ever produced. He has determined that Spawn is approximately two and a half years old and biologically of the female variety, but that is about all he was able to discern as Spawn refused to stay still for any further examination and forced Draxum to chase her through the lab, giggling the whole way as if they were playing a game. She may not be very fast on those unsteady legs of hers, but the clutter in Draxum’s lab makes catching her a chore whenever she darts through openings Draxum can’t pass through. Especially since the little creature seems to find Draxum’s frustration with her antics highly amusing.

On top of this, the Spawn refuses to stay in her containment cell during rest hours, either wailing until Draxum comes to quiet her or breaking out herself. Most often the latter.

Spawn spends most of the night crying. Draxum has stayed to observe Spawn as she sleeps to see what exactly causes her such violent distress. So far, he has observed no external stimulus that could be responsible for Spawn’s late night outbursts. His best hypothesis from his observations is that Spawn suffers from nightmares and seeks comfort from him in their aftermath.

Further complicating matters, Spawn is not at point in her development where she is capable of workable speech. The most she is capable of is repeatedly shouting “ba” at him and babbling incoherently as she tries to mimic what Draxum says himself.

Draxum sighs heavily, holding the squirming, giggly human ahead of him from under her arms. “It seems teaching you to speak will have to be our first priority,” he says.

“Prabababe,” she echoes, lightly slapping her hand against Draxum's wrist with her meager baby strength for emphasis.

“That’s right, little Spawn. Priority,” he says, repeating the proper pronunciation of the word the child is mimicking.

“Prabababe!” She cheers loudly.

He sets her down and pats her on her head as he turns to look for a notepad. He’ll have to make a trip to the library and start putting together a lesson plan. Perhaps he should pick up some books on child-rearing while he’s there. Raising a human spawn can’t be much different than raising a young yokai, right? Not that Draxum has experience with either, however.

And then suddenly, there's a cacophonous crash behind him, followed by the piercing sound of crying.

Draxum whips around so fast that his neck muscles cramp painfully. Spawn sits amid a pile of toppled weapons, a rather nasty cut on her right forearm, likely from a wayward blade. Tears leak from her face at an impressive rate as blood wells in the wound and dribbles down her arm, splattering across the floor and soaking into her clothes.

“Ah nuts!” He shouts, diving for the sobbing child.

She curls in on herself, pulling her injured arm close to her chest, further staining her outfit with the blood seeping from the wound, and burying her face into Draxum’s kimono as she wails. Draxum shudders involuntarily as he feels Spawn’s face fluids soak into his clothes.

“Spawn, cease this and let me inspect your injury,” he orders, prying her arm out so he can examine it.

The bad news is that it’s a fairly deep wound. The good news is that it’s also a clean one. While it speaks to the quality of the blade that caused it, it’s deep enough that this will doubtlessly require stitches.

Looks like I’ll need to put those somewhere she can’t reach, Draxum thinks as he digs through a drawer for his medical kit. A little difficult with a child in his arm, but not impossible.

He finds it tucked all the way in the back, of course. Regardless, Draxum retrieves the supplies and sets to work, all while cursing his past self for leaving him so ill-prepared.

Spawn continues to squirm and wail and cry, but Draxum doesn’t let her yank her injured arm away as he expertly stitches the long wound on her forearm closed and wraps it securely with sterile bandages. Fortunately, once Draxum completes the stitches, Spawn’s squirming lessens and her cries quiet down to blissful silence, though one punctuated by an occasional hiccuping sob. Still, it's a great deal better than the shrill wailing Spawn had committed herself to just moments ago.

His work completed and his subject thoroughly exhausted from her emotional display, Draxum sits back in his chair, staring indifferently at the mess of bandages and cleansing solution strewn over his lab table. As if sensing the opening in Draxum's defenses, Spawn wastes no time scooting herself off of the table and plopping gracelessly into Draxum’s lap.

“Hey!” He exclaims indignantly.

Predictably, the little creature pays no heed to Draxum’s protests as she curls up against his chest, gripping his robes with her tiny hands and tucking her wounded arm carefully against her own chest. And she soon falls asleep.

Draxum sighs lightly. “At least she’s finally quiet…” — Draxum swiftly returns a thoroughly exhausted Spawn to her containment cell. Detangling her is a bit of a challenge as her tiny hands are deceptively strong and grip his robes so tightly he’d momentarily feared they’d rip as he dislodged her. Tear tracks dry on her cheeks as she dozes against the pillows, the bandages covering her injury standing out starkly against the dark bedding. Even through the bandages, a faint light shines through, tracing the length of the injury.

The wound has a mystic quality to it that, Draxum concludes. He finds it odd, seeing as the chances of this random human toddler having mystic potential it laughably small. Most likely, that mystic quality came from whatever Spawn cut herself on.

“Still,” he muses quietly to himself. “It may be worth a look. Just in case.”

Packing away his medical supplies, Draxum turns his attention back to the pile of weapons he will need to find a new home for. Preferably out of a certain nosy—and fragile—human’s reach.

Over the course of his long life, Draxum has become steward of many interesting mystic weapons. Some owners return for their stowed weapons, but many never do for one reason or another. Usually it’s because they no longer need it or forget about it, but some are items of terrible power that are better off tucked away and hopefully forgotten by the inevitable march of time. Draxum can only hope that Spawn didn’t cut herself on one such weapon.

Finding the weapon doesn’t take long, as it’s the only one in the pile with bright red blood glistening along its edge.

“Hm. The odachi…,” Draxum muses, picking up the sword in one hand and reaching for the rag with another. “Not the worst possible outcome.”

He’ll have to keep an eye on Spawn for any adverse effects. The blade of this particular odachi is capable of cutting the fabric of space just as easily as it cuts flesh. Draxum can’t rightly say what might happen in this case, if anything at all. It’s doubtful--though not impossible under the right circumstances--that Spawn will gain powers like the odachi’s or lose parts of herself suddenly, but Draxum admittedly hasn’t cleaned the blade in some time, so it is a much greater possibility that Spawn could contract an infection rather than powers.

He’ll have to monitor the wound carefully as it heals. Both for infection and any...peculiarities.

Draxum wipes the blade clean and sets about gathering the weapons around his lab. He rather quickly finds himself eyeing the loose, breakable beakers of caustic chemicals littering the surfaces within reach for the heedless spawn now in his care.

Part of him now regrets his impulsive decision to take in such a small, fragile creature, but…hopefully the results will be worth the present headache.

(Next)

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

"It certainly wouldn't be right to have this kind man's efforts go uncompensated, now would it, Jumpluff?" "Pluff-pluff!"

these troublemakers The dynamic Suicune-chasing duo returns in the next Destiny Bond update - currently in progress! 🎆✨

–> Check out the latest part here 🔷 –> New to the series? Follow from the start! 💜

[kingdomoftyto]

Anon from a few weeks ago will be happy to hear we're finally playing Process of Elimination, btw

I didn't even get all the way through the demo before I was compelled to buy the full game, it had me hooked so fast

[fazcinatingblog]

More like IF I come back amirite, also stop making me feel guilty, also learn to spell (paralegal? Parallel? ...never mind doesn't parramatta), also like it's my fault she hires 53 accountants that can only do accounting and 1 admin person to send out the tax returns and invoices and

[kisaraslover]

also im loving the asks >:] its really like im becoming a minor boss in yugioh fandom. my power grows with every single anon coming to ask me for stuff....

[northwest-by-a-train]

Anyway re: Jeanne d'Arc. It's anachronistic to define her as a fascist saint or as a nationalist warrior. To quote Lucien Febvre, you're giving Diogenes an umbrella and Mars a gatling gun. I don't think people in tumblr making comics about Joan of Arc as she relates to gender, violence, or her relationship to god are the reason we have the far-right turn her into a fascist icon. I don't think Leslie Feinberg writing about her emboldens Eric Zemmour. I don't think F'murr's Jehanne au pied du mur (an excellent comic book where Joan is either piss-drunk or trying to have sex with her alien husband or trying to rope Attila the Hun into many a harebrained scheme) had any impact on racism in France.

I think we can say it's sometimes cringey & annoying when people use complex & flawed historical people as blorbos (cf: Hamilton, Our Flag Means Death, The Terror). Sometimes it's done very skillfully and it sheds light on history and sometimes it's in poor taste and obscures the events and one's mileage will enormously vary over time (used to be big into Hamilton, find it a poor history lesson and a cringe fandom now, but I don't think it has had any negative consequence on antiblack racism in the U.S)

But people on Tumblr or even writers have very little impact on tradcath fascist radicalisation, and if they do, I don't think they're worsening the situation in any way shape or form. The people in Orleans aren't reactionary racists because Joan of Arc is an inherently Racist or Royalist or Christian figure. They're racists because they're pieces of shit and right-wing tradcath reaction has been a big thing in the french countryside for structural reasons. I can understand getting mad at "Marie-Antoinette did nothing wrong" Coppola-snorting coquettes (M-A was ridiculously and blithely evil irl) but I find it really strange to have Joan of Arc being a tumblr blorbo for us queers a hill one would be willing to fight on.