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samcvrpenters · 2 months ago

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word count: 2.2k+

pairing: dark! commander! caitlyn kiramman x enforcer! fem! reader

summary: caitlyn’s anger morphs into an overwhelming possessiveness of one of the enforcers, who ends up being you, and she has already formed invisible chains around you to keep you all to herself

warnings: possessive! caitlyn, dark! caitlyn, stalking, murder, torture, she uses her position as commander against you a LOT, kidnapping

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what is caitlyn’s place in the cruel world if it’s not to fit in and reciprocate those key values of hurting people in order to get what she wants? in the long run, yes, it may be to help the distinguished upper city of piltover, but at the moment? it is only to reflect her superiority to the civilians and make the people of the undercity afraid of her.

she never would have had to resort to such methods if it wasn’t for jinx and her callous actions against caitlyn’s mother.

to say caitlyn wanted revenge would be the understatement of the century. she would want nothing more than to publicly torture the criminal and make her pay for the crimes she has committed and the damage against her family and health because she would deserve it.

caitlyn can already imagine it; the smug grin would be wiped off jinx’s face and perhaps she would have tears streaming down her face as she’d see her own guts pooling from her stomach. caitlyn would use knives. she’d use a blowtorch. maybe she would make her drink the strongest disinfectant that she could even dream of.

she’d make it her mission to use all of the piltover scientists in her acts— her acts against humanity— and she would find some extravagant ways to make jinx regret her crimes and beg for mercy.

she’d wear her commander’s cape with pride, yet she would know that her brain has already become twisted with the same darkness that plagued the worst of villains and she would slowly be turning into one of them. she’d be replacing herself.

she’s been so caught up in everything that she hasn’t even granted herself the merciful capability to have a break. have a rest.

she’s been training the armies. troops and troops of enforcers who are meant to be insanely proud to wear the emblem on their uniform but are instead only wearing it from their fear of being ripped apart in the same way caitlyn describes it in her mind.

within the thousands of people who wear the uniform, there’s you. you’re not high in the ranks of the enforcers, but you’re not low either.

she doesn’t know what it was about you. was it that she could train you to be even better when you’re already somewhere in the middle of the ranks? no. that doesn’t make sense— because then she would feel the same as she would do with the hundreds of enforcers who are of the same rank.

but she’s latched onto you like a mosquito to blood, a flea to a dog, a moth to a flame.

she wouldn’t necessarily call herself some lapdog who is running around and doing all of your chores and business. just because she’s attached to you (in her mind, no doubt), doesn’t mean that she’s going to be kind and do things for you.

what’s the point in that?

she’d be ruining her spectacular reputation and performance as the hardened commander who changed her ways because of the unfortunate death of a family member.

maybe she wants something to grasp onto; maybe that ended up being you because of your overwhelming sense of innocence. you’re not that innocent. you’re not pure. but in her eyes, you’re an angel. you’re the opposite to her. you could create such an outstanding dichotomy with her and it could drive both of you to want each other.

but it’s not want for her. it’s a need. ever since she laid eyes on you, her footsteps followed your footsteps. her breaths followed your breaths. her heart followed your heart because where you went, she went.

not like you know about it.

what’s the word for it? stalking? it’s a crime. a widely recognised crime in the city of piltover yet caitlyn has made an exception for herself because she’s the commander and she has the exception to every crime in the book.

her eyes remain on you at all times.

why are you in a bar? why are you drinking? are you so sorrowful that you’re unable to think of a better way to solve whatever problems is lying in that brain of yours? but the way you drink is so enticing and tantalising that all she wants to do is grab your face and kiss you. bite you. mark you.

a flick of the wrist and there goes the shot. a lift of your hand and there’s a glass of wine. and the tilt of your head and there is goes— down into your throat and into your body. a move of the hand and the glass is back on the counter.

she wants to take a picture of this moment. your lips are glistening with hints of the wine that had moved from the glass and the way you lick your lips. it’s like you’re trying to seduce her. it’s like you want her to come and corrupt you and your mind. she could teach you the most barbaric of things. but does she really want to ruin you?

the first time she talks to you is a strange event.

you’re sat doing work. your pen scratches against paper and her eyes are locked onto the path of the pen. your handwriting is incredible. maybe she should get you an office job. you’d be safer there, and she would be able to look at all the work you’ve done and stare at it intently.

you don’t even notice her at first, until she clears her throat and you wildly excuse yourself. you know what she’s like and you don’t want to be hurt. “oh— commander, i apologise— i didn’t notice you—“

are your apologies totally relevant? perhaps. she thinks it’s good to know that you do apologise for these things, because it means you’re not as tough as you think you are and she’ll be able to have a tighter hold on you when it comes to it.

but she’s meant to be cruel, so she ignores your apologetic comments and words and slams a pile of paperwork down onto your desk. “get this done by noon, officer. or i will be punishing you for incompetent behaviour.”

and she turns around and walks away.

she felt proud of herself then. she finally spoke to you. after following you and watching you in the bar. after following you home and watching you relax. after following you home and watching you in the shower, with water running down your soft skin and dripping off your body when you wrap the towel around yourself.

she keeps her eye on you when you fill out the paperwork. your writing is slightly different, because you’re filling it in more frantically and she can tell your hand aches because you occasionally take a break to shake your hand, as if shaking off the growing ache present in your muscles.

when you finally finish it off and dump it down onto her desk, you seem almost out of breath. she doesn’t mind. she’ll make you faster and better. she’ll improve your stamina.

“all pieces done.” you breathe out, your hands resting on the papers as you set it down on her desk. it’s in quite a neat pile— it’s not very messy, and most of the corners meet one another.

but she only glares up at you, making your muscles tense and your heart beat faster and faster against your rib cage. why is she glaring at you? she’ll do anything to be cruel. to make sure she can reinforce that you’re below her and that she controls you. because she does. she owns you.

“since when did i announce that officers are able to speak to their commander without being spoken to?” she would really find anything to criticise you, wouldn’t she? well, it wasn’t really a criticism. it was more just something she could scold you for. berate you for. but she sees you gulp nervously, and she lets out a sigh as she grabs the pile and pulls it closer to her. “i’ll let you off with a warning. next time, you won’t be so lucky.”

is she taking pity on you? yes. but you don’t know why, and honestly, she doesn’t know why either. is this because of her obsessive nature with you?

she wants to keep you with her at all times. is that so much to ask? maybe she can make you pay for what you did. she won’t be too harsh, though, she’ll just be able to keep an eye on you easier.

“stay with me for the rest of the day, officer.” does she not know your name? is that why she is addressing you as that? or does she just get off on the fact that she’s superior to you? “you will not be leaving my side for the rest of the day. do you understand me?”

“yes, commander.” it’s as if you want to listen to her. you want to stay by her side. maybe you don’t want more punishment or anything bad to happen to you because you’re just listening to her.

it’s her way of keeping you close to her. because she doesn’t want anyone else to be taking up any of your attention, does she?

she keeps you close to her for the rest of the day. she keeps her promise. she just loads more and more office work onto you with every hour that passes and she enjoys the expression on your face— the way your teeth tug at your lip as you concentrate and the way your hair sticks to your forehead slightly as you sweat.

she’s doing this to you. she’s making you look so beautiful and ethereal as she gives you more work. as she practically overworks you.

she lets you go around midnight. she doesn’t offer any sympathy for letting you leave so late in the night, and she tells you to come earlier in the morning. she really won’t let you catch a break now that she’s got those piercing blue eyes on you.

you’re back early in the morning, with your best friend, it seems. caitlyn doesn’t approach you yet, but she’s watching as you chat away to this figure that she doesn’t even recognise to be part of the enforcers. she doesn’t remember approving the identification of your supposed best friend.

and she makes a point of it.

she’s thought about cold blooded murder before, but she has never actually gone through with it. she’s thought about torture, especially with jinx, but she’s never done it to someone who doesn’t deserve it. yet, she can’t help herself because she believes that you belong to her and your best friend is holding you back and away from her.

she had approached your friend with the promise of arrest for treason. she knew it was wrong, because they never actually committed treason, but caitlyn was too far gone to even care about morals.

throwing them into stillwater, caitlyn had made sure that they paid for their actions, because soon enough, they were screaming and begging for mercy against caitlyn’s hands.

at first it was just slaps. then it was punches. then it was stab wounds. burn marks. it was constant pain after pain and eventually, they gave up and just let their limbs hang limp and blood run dry.

she’s not insane. she’s just keeping you to herself.

“clean this up.” caitlyn spoke with a harsh tone in her voice, and soon enough, the body was gone (courtesy of the prison guards), and her actions were hidden from society.

and then she goes back to watching you. she’s got her gun in hand and she doesn’t know what she’s actually doing at this point, because she won’t shoot you, but she can’t let you roam the streets if you’re going to have friends.

and you’re walking down the cobbled pavement— without a care in the world— as if you’re invincible.

but you’re not, and she needs to show you that.

her hands clench tightly around her rifle and she finally pulls herself from the shadows, blue eyes no longer disguised by the darkness of the buildings and she has revealed herself to you.

she’s stepped right out in front of you and you don’t know why she has.

“oh— uh, commander kiramman— can i help you in any way?” you’re so calm about it, like she hasn’t just jumped out in front of you. is this how you would react if it is was someone else? what if there was a criminal in front of you? would you just stand there and ask if you can help them?

anger overtakes her and the butt of her rifle finds itself at the side of your head, knocking you clean out onto the floor. she didn’t catch you, because it’s not like she’s a hopeless romantic.

there’s blood pouring from your skull but she knows you're alive because she can your chest moving. her hands grip onto your shoulders as she pulls you up against her, your head resting on her chest as she holds it there.

there’s blood on her fingers. but she doesn’t care. because she has you now. you’ll forever be in her grasp, and you’ll be happy. you’ll be safe. you’ll be hers. as you should be.

#arcane #arcane netflix #arcane oneshot #caitlyn arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #arcane series #caitlyn kiramman x fem reader #caitlyn kiramman imagine #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader #yandere caitlyn #dark caitlyn #yandere caitlyn kiramman x reader #dark caitlyn kiramman x reader

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thr0wnawayy · 7 months ago

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Chapter 429 has been my Dabi's Dance

I can't stop smiling.

I wanted to start off by saying thank you. Not to Hori, but to you all. Every last one of you in these tags for your contributions. Be it analysis, re-reads, fan works or simply your perspectives. I look forward to seeing what you will make in the future.

So, Thank you.

I suppose I should start at the beginning. MHA was always in the background of my life and I hated it. I don't watch anime and yet still MHA related media would make it's way onto my socials in all it's obnoxious forms. This went on for years.

And then suddenly, it stopped. It seemed like MHA's craze had died down, I'd still see it from time to time through merchandise but never to the consistency it had prior.

That was until Dabi's Dance was published and the net went wild.

I knew a few things about Endeavor from my past exposure, he was universally hated and abused his kids and wife (to the point she scalded her son in a fit of psychosis).

Deciding I had nothing better to do, I found myself searching to see what kind of consequences would befall such a monstrous character.

Would he fall like Icarus, be torn apart by the public, how would the family he ruined react to the news?.

And then, nothing. No punishment, no reaction. Just dead air.

I recall that my face dropped internally. My blank expression mirrored my phone screen's sterile nature, as it displayed the information in front of me.

He got away with it. So I did some digging and it got so much worse.

Bakugo's evasion of any consequences or damages, coddled and shielded by Hori's inability to go through on anything.

Hawks who murdered a near crippled man on a hypothesis, for the mere crime of having the "wrong" quirk, for not giving up, for being "unlucky"

Aizawa, Hori's little mouthpiece. who decides to play judge, jury and executioner with the futures of students he's supposed to be teaching. Only for the Nedzu and the narrative to allow him, his friends turned into lapdogs that agree to the letter.

The Commission who strive to keep theirrotting husk of a system alive through assasins, child soldiers and indoctrination.

Even if it's gears must be lubricated with blood, even if it means lying to the world and having them clean up the mess. They MUST stay on top, the illusion must be upheld.

I just couldn't fathom how this was seen as a good thing.

And somewhere along the way I began to feel something akin to hate. Not your typical ire, one powered by anger, no.

I wanted to see how low Hori would go, just how horrifically he would mangle a series that everyone had once praised.

I wanted to witness what wonders a jaded community would create, to show what they were capable of (to create and understand MHA in a manner Hori wishes he could even emulate a fraction of)

I wished to see your own expressions of love and hatred.

The thought of witnessing the breaking point, the dust settling to expose all the glaring flaws and infested wounds of MHA. It buzzed in my brain like electricity.

The idea that when all was said and done, you, the people would do what Hori couldn't/wouldn't and forge the bones and salvagble bits of MHA into a story worth remembering.

One where abusers are punished for their crimes instead of rewarded

Where victims can have a voice, feel and grow, carve their own paths and move forward from their trauma.

Where the implications of MHA's rotting and disingenuous society get explored instead of swept under the rug

Where people get a chance.

I waited eagerly for the day it would all fall apart.

So, do you know what I did when I logged onto the tag and saw your posts!?.

I laughed, the shrill giggle in the back of my throat quickly surging into an almost manic cackle. It was like lightning, vindicating and sobering all at once. My face was stretched to it's absolute limits with how wide my grin was. I could almost hear the shattering of MHA's last bit of integrity and I loved it.

The realization MHA's greatest threat was the author himself, It's one that I grasped long ago (as far back as the Dark Dekiru Arc) and I'm sure most of you understood this as well.

But to see that more of you are starting to get it, to realize there's no going back. That as the curtains draw near and the lights begin to dim, there is no other side here. Violence begets violence and Hori's gone past the event horizon.

It feels, hopeful. Perhaps we can build something worth saving.

It's been a wild ride so far and it's still ongoing. Hori's time is long over, it has been for a while now, so I suppose what I'm asking Is:

Now It's Your Turn, what's your play?

_______________________________________

Update:

IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING!

youtube

#bnha critical #anti bakugo katsuki #anti endeavor #mha critical #anti bakugou #anti eraserhead #anti aizawa #Youtube

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eunsuri · 3 months ago

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Some theory/thoughts on Solas, Mythal and the ancient Elves

I’ve been fully spiralling deep into my thoughts after seeing Solas’ memories and regrets, so I wanted to put these thoughts into words and share my theories on Solas, his relationship with Mythal, and Lavellan. I’m going to split this into 2 parts due to the length! There will be spoilers, so please avoid if you haven’t finished the game! Mild trigger warning for abuse in relationships.

I believe that Solas definitely loved Mythal, but it’s a very different kind of love to what he feels for Lavellan, who I believe is his true love.

Based on what we see in the manifestation mural, we learn that Solas was originally a spirit, and that the Evanuris were also spirits who took a physical form using lyrium. When Solas was a spirit, it appears that he was somewhat of a spirit companion to Mythal, providing her with wisdom as she shared power with Elgar’nan.

Spirits are generally an embodiment of specific emotions, and while they can at times feel other emotions, the range isn’t as wide as if they were a physical person. As humans, we carry a large range of emotions that progressively transform and grow into deeper and more complex emotions with age. The Elves would likely have the same range of emotions that we would as people, but as we now know, the ancient Elves were spirits who took a physical form.

Becoming a physical person would come not only with a new body, but a new capability to feel so many more emotions than you would as a spirit who embodies a single or smaller range of emotions.

When Mythal begs Solas to take a physical form, as she needs his wisdom, we see that he is reluctant, as he can see that it’s not a good idea, and he is content with living as a spirit. However, spending time with Mythal as a spirit companion would have built a strong bond, where he was likely offering her guidance and wisdom regularly. We don’t know if spirits are capable of fully feeling love, but it’s clear that a bond was built between the Solas and Mythal.

When Solas agrees and takes his physical form, he would be feeling all kinds of new sensations as he is no longer a weightless spirit floating around in the fade, but a body of flesh and blood, a beating heart, and a brain that not only processes thoughts but a new range of emotions that he would now become capable of unlocking. In that time, Mythal is likely his only real guide to the life and functions of being a physical person.

In no way am I infantilizing Solas or saying that he is not responsible for his actions, but it’s almost like when a child becomes aware of their own emotions. They start off with a smaller range of emotions, which then grow more complex as they grow in age. Solas would have started off with his smaller range of emotions and strength in his wisdom, but also learning to feel newer emotions he would not have yet experienced before taking a physical form.

Mythal and possibly the other Evanuris, would be the only real physical example he would have around him of people. He remains close with Mythal because she was the one who pulled him from his life as a spirit, and guided him into the physical world. She tells him she needs him and his wisdom to help her bring peace to the people, and while Solas can see the dangers in the knowledge he is providing, he believes she is doing these things to achieve peace as she is telling him. He can see the wrongs they are doing together, but he blindly follows because of the bond he has with her and he believes in her cause.

They call him her “lapdog” as he follows her wherever she goes and provides her with the wisdom she is seeking. He wears her vallaslin, which he later burns off his face. He sees the Evanuris around him, seeking power and growing in strength, he learns from their pride and believes that he is doing what is right. He sees them rising to Godhood and enslaving their people, he is no longer a gentle spirit of wisdom, but a prideful leader of a rebellion, Fen’harel.

Solas continues to help Mythal craft the lyrium dagger and do terrible things, tranquilising the Titans when they rise against them for using their blood to create their physical bodies. Though he acknowledges the danger in their actions, Mythal continues to convince him that they must do these things in order to achieve peace and uses his wisdom as a weapon.

While I don’t condone his actions, I empathise heavily with Solas here as I can see myself in him in these moments. I'm someone who grew up in a very dysfunctional family environment, where showing emotions was considered weakness or an embarrassment. I limited myself to very few emotions growing up, and due to feeling like an outsider, I was often easily taken by people who appeared to be good and kind.

I see myself in Solas in my first ever relationship, where I went against my parents wishes, doing things I knew were wrong for me, but I believed in my partner at that time. I believed he was a good man, who loved me and only wanted what was best for me. I continued to follow whatever he wanted in fear of losing him, and even after a major betrayal, I still believed in him and it took me a long time to break myself out of that.

If you’ve ever been in a relationship, friendship, or had a familial relationship that was abusive, I’m sure you can relate to the almost emotional/mental paralysis that comes when you know that the situation is wrong, but you can’t leave it because you either believe that the person has good intentions, or because of fear of what could happen if you were to leave.

That’s how I see Solas’ relationship with Mythal, whether platonic, familial, or romantic, he believes in Mythal being a good person seeking peace for her people. He continues to help her and his wisdom becomes pride, his knowledge is changing their world and turning the tides of the war. He knows it’s wrong, but he’s doing this alongside someone he believes in and he doesn’t turn around and say no.

When he sees just how horrible things have become, he begs Mythal to leave with him and she denies him, calls him “love” and says she will look into his concerns.

As Bellara says when the team are discussing the mural and their relationship, the ancient Elves felt emotions and affection very deeply. I personally agree with Bellara, as when they took on physical forms, they also likely would have picked up the ability to feel a whole range of new emotions without any kind of real regulation. They would feel things deeply and their affection for each other was different to the kind of emotions people of modern Thedas would have developed, especially when their connection to magic and the Fade is completely different.

When the Evanuris killed Mythal, Solas would have felt this pain deeply, as he failed to protect his oldest friend when he tried to stop them from their rise to ultimate power and godhood. He believed they deserved punishment for this betrayal and sealed them away in the veil, which took all his power and led him to sleep in Uthenera for thousands of years.

I'll discuss his relationship with Lavellan and the difference to his relationship with Mythal in part 2 🤍🤍

#dragon age #solas #solas dragon age #solavellan #dragon age the veilguard #datv spoilers #veilguard spoilers #dragon age spoilers #mythal

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years ago

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Spill

Immortal Male Yan + G.N Criminal Reader

Summary: You kidnapped him to get some information about a shared friend, but he won't give in so easily

Warnings: Sadomasochism themes, violence, slightly suggestive scene

Good little Silas.

Always keeps every word someone says to him.

It's his job afterall - one no-one else in the entire world could full. You see, Silas knew the secrets of a lot of dangerous people. The type of series others would die, or even kill for. Why would these people trust a scrawny, pathetic looking guy like him? It's simple really. He has a bigger secret than all of them combined.

He couldn't die.

It was really hard to convince his boss of his usefulness at first. His buddies put a bullet through his skull and tossed him into the trash out back before he could demonstrate himself. Didn't even buy him dinner before hand. Assholes. Coming back after having his brains splattered on his soon to be employer's did wonders for his credibility. He was mostly used as a living meat shield early on, but with his resilience to wounds and the pain they may cause his boss become more relaxed around him. He had proven worth plus is anyone ever caught wind of their ties and kidnapped him Silas would never saw a thing. He was the perfect lapdog.

After that he pretty much became an outlet for everyone's tales. From little white lights to infidelity, murder, and every other sin in the book. Sweet Silas would do his to lean an ear and give input when requested. By the end of the year Silas had enough information to get everyone involved arrested, murdered, or whatever else might happen if he let any details slip. He could easily save the lives of innocent people, but he had a bigger prey to catch than the fleeting high of justice.

After all, a good boy might go to the police, and he was no good boy.

Silas greedily gulps down tablespoons of water as the glass clacks against his teeth.

"Feeling better?"

"Mhm..."

A backhand soars across his face.

"Good."

Silas' head hangs at an awkward angle from the force, red stained saliva dribbling down his lips. He bite into the lower one to avoid making a sound. Normally he'd hold his captor to the same standards as his friends in regards to filling his stomach with something other than water before smacking him around, but this was no ordinary kidnapper. They were intoxicating, threatening, the exact type of person he'd love to...

Ugh, he's getting carried away again.

Best not to do that while he's still playing an innocent victim, especially in front of his Doll. Just a single week before his employment, Silas fell in love. The culprit of his stolen heart was a crook committing another robbery that night, the two's paths crossed in an alley behind the bank. No questions asked, his future spouse stabbed him directly in his chest before they fled the scene. That boldness almost made them an optional playmate, but that hint of guilt in their eyes swept him off his feet. Researching them only made him fall madder in love. He would do anything to have them.

"I don't want to hurt you. Just tell me code to his safe and I'll let you go.

Facing away, Silas is fully able to roll his eyes. At least threaten his life if he speaks while you're at it.

"Please... I really don't know what you're talking about. I'm just a waiter!" He fights in his restraints and sobs with wide eyes, hoping to sell the act anc draw attention away from his lower body. Pitching a tent right in front of his doll on their first meeting was rather embarrassing. You snarl as you pick up your knife.

"Just tell me what I want to know!"

You're so pretty when you scream. Silas can't wait for his turn to play. He holds it isn't too long so he can take a picture of his wounds and mirror them on you so you'll have matching scars. Sure he'll have to redo his now and then, but the photos you take at your wedding won't know that.

You ghost the blade down along his neck. Silas swallows to feel its point and prevent himself from choking on the blood collecting in his mouth. He wants to act just a little longer - but you're making it so hard teasing him like that. He repeats his scripted moto in his head like a pray as you drag the knife down his chest.

Scream. Cry. Scream. Cry. Ah-

Your eyes grow to the size of dinner plates as the tiny moan sounds within the empty room. It's not a whimper you're used to, but one of pure unadulterated lust. "Did.. you just."

No going back now. So much for that.

"Guess I just can't help it, Dolly. You're too fucking irresponsible. I know you wanna hurt me, but since I love you so much I wanna let you in on a little secret. You can hurt me, but you can't kill me. Break me apart if you don't believe me. I'll be back tomorrow to take what's mine."

You step back as he erupts into a fit of shrill laughter. "That bastard- Always hiring the freaks. I can't believe he ditch me for someone like you."

His laughter stops. That's a secret his boss never shared with him. That old fuck would've been dead long before then if he had.

"Ohh, did he do something to hurt you? That changes everything. I'll give you whatever you want to know down to his house code if you let me have first cut."

"Why would you help me?"

"I already told you, Doll." Silas stands up and drops the cuffs to the ground, dislocated bones bopping back into place as he flexes. "I love ya, and I'm gonna make sure whoever's hurt you pays. Got this job just to help you out anyway. Issue is if you want me to spill the beans without a few dates first you gotta spilling my guts on the floor as my spit spills down your pretty throat."

#Silas my oc #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere x y/n #yandere drabble

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blues824 · 2 years ago

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hii could i get black butler characters (ciel, sebastian, claude, alois + undertaker) reacting to the reader who’s basically like has the same abilities as spiderman but they were from the future and now they’re in their world so they spend their time going on missions for the queen ? :O

Gender-neutral reader. Also, I hate spiders, so Claude is easily my least favorite character, but I somehow made his and Undertaker's the most romantic.

Ciel Phantomhive

He has heard word of a certain heroic figure that roams the streets of England. He ordered Sebastian to find out who exactly you were, and imagine his surprise when he found out it was you, who was a loyal servant to Her Majesty.

The young Phantomhive lord was definitely intrigued in your abilities, since you were completely human. He had you explain, and you had to tell him that you were from the future and the Queen employed you as her ‘knight in the night’ of sorts.

You two were often called lapdogs of the Queen, but your fights never ended in death. Yours ended in Scotland Yard getting ahold of the perpetrators and finding them wrapped up in spiderwebs. Ciel had seen a crime scene that you had been at, and he was very weirded out by it.

One time, you stayed at the Phantomhive Manor overnight since you visited and a storm came on. Mey-rin was running with expensive china and she tripped. Your spidey-sense went off and you quickly caught the dinnerware. Ciel spat out his tea in shock as he stared at you with wide-eyes.

Sebastian Michaelis

He had also caught wind of the person who prowls around at night because of the morning paper. His master had ordered to unmask you, and he couldn’t say he was exactly surprised that it was you. You always came up with not-that-great excuses, so he kind of figured it out.

You remind him of his arachnid counterpart, Claude. Faustus was a spider demon, so the correlation was understandable. However, your personality differed greatly. Plus, you did work for the Queen rather than the Trancy brat.

Sebastian has had the opportunity to gaze upon your ‘victims’ at a crime scene, all wrapped within the web that you spun. It could serve as a metaphor: he was caught in the web of your heart, finally getting to experience what it was like to be the prey rather than the predator.

Once, when you had accepted the invitation to stay at the Phantomhive Manor, the two of you were up late at night and just relaxing in each other’s presence. Then, your spidey-sense was activated and you shot a web out and accidentally caught Bard. It was very amusing to your beloved demon, but he assisted in getting the chef out.

Alois Trancy

Out of pure curiosity and frustration, he ordered Claude to show him who you were. Upon snatching the mask off of your face, Alois let out a gasp of surprise. Why, it was Her Majesty’s other lapdog! How exciting!

You can not tell me that he wouldn’t have you use your abilities to amuse him. String up his servants to the chandelier to make him laugh as they tried their hardest to escape. It was inhumane, but we all know how he is.

He has seen photographs of crime scenes where criminals are stuck in webs for the police to easily detain them, and he thinks it’s hilarious. The fact that those perpetrators were helpless as they got arrested just fueled the fire in him.

One time, you two were out in the garden, and you had the very spontaneous idea to cling to a tree and swing. You told him to grab onto you (think MJ and Spiderman in Far From Home), and while it was a very small swing, Alois loved feeling the air on his face. He asked (demanded) you to do it again and again.

Claude Faustus

When Alois had ordered him to unmask you, he had no reaction in finding out that it was you. He already pieced it together weeks ago, considering this figure that stopped criminals came at the same time you were brought into the Queen’s court.

Two spiders just living their lives, one human and one demon. You both are caught in each other’s webs, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, the abilities you have just compliment each other. You can shoot webs and he can evade them as well as break through them.

He has also had the opportunity to gaze upon a crime scene that you obviously visited, seeing as the criminals were wrapped in webbing. That’s actually how you met for the first time: you thought he was a perpetrator and you shot a web at him. He evaded it, but as your arm was out he grasped it and pulled you to his chest.

That moment is when he realized that you must have had another sense that told you he was suspicious. You later told him that it was your ‘spidey-sense’ and it was like an inhuman instinct that you frequently act upon.

Undertaker

He’s been quite sad because of the spider-like figure that has been arresting criminals rather than killing them so they end up in his shop. However, it was one day where he had decided to take a stroll to clear his mind and he saw you in an alleyway, with your costume still on but your mask was off.

What an amazing discovery! He wished he could dissect you so that he could find out how you got his abilities, but you were still alive and well. You just told him instead, how you were from the future and you got bit by a radioactive spider and that’s how you got your powers.

Undertaker has seen some crime scenes, and he’s utterly fascinated by how you shoot webs that leave the criminals immobile as the police and Scotland Yard come get them. You can not fight me when I say that when you both are romantically involved, he would kiss the web glands on your wrists.

You both make a great couple, honestly. There have been a few times where your spidey-sense goes off when your boyfriend here tries to make a ‘doll’. They often try to attack you for some reason, so you shoot your webbing out. Undertaker rushes over to make sure you’re alright, worried that the doll had hit you.

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ms-boogie-man · 1 year ago

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Ahem…

Are you guys paying attention?

Has anyone noticed that the Biden admin is starting wars and sending troops and equipment all over the globe? Ukraine, Gaza, Taiwan, Iran, etc.

… and has anyone noticed that Biden has our borders wide open while his lapdogs, Alejandro Mayorkas and John Kirby, tell us the borders are entirely safe?

Every week, tens of thousands of military-aged males from all over the world are illegally entering our republic. They are given $3000-$5000 gift cards, cell fōns, and a ride to wherever they please. When they arrive in blue cities, they are going to be granted the right to vote, a place in our military, and some blue cities are even passing legislation to allow these criminal migrants to join law enforcement — fact. *remember the defund the police movement of 2020/2021?. **why is it antifa does not care about the rebuilding of the police force?… with foreign criminals, no less

Biden is also squaring off with the state of Texas… seemingly over the migrant issue Hint: it is not the migrant issue

Texas is the most powerful state in the union Texas is the biggest Texas has its own oil Texas is the most armed up

Are you paying attention yet?

I am not being snarky or demeaning here

I legit want to know if you are noticing all this

Movies like Netflix's Leave the World Behind, Civil War

Hard times create great men Great men create good times Good times make weak men Weak men make hard times

Angie/Maddie🦇❥✝︎🇺🇸

#fjb #Joe Biden is a weak man #here's yer sign yo #solo roba di angie #non solo roba da angie #vampire #born a witch #here i am #2a #1a

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artnerd1123 · 8 months ago

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now that's a smile that's rather hostile...

profile undercut~

Name: Jester Pronouns: they/them Gender/sexuality: nonbinary + queer Species: human Height: 6’0” Age: ~600, physically somewhere around 21 Occupation pre-dungeons: some sort of entertainer… they actually don’t remember. Their last job until contestantship is the dungeons’ announcer, minion wrangler, contestant manager, and Lady Luck’s right hand :) Dungeon wish: the first time they were a contestant, it was to fly- around the world, to explore, to find a home, all of it, really. For their second crack at contestantship, their wish is to leave the dungeons :)

Fighting style: they’ve tried everything at least once- there’s no style they’ll stray from if it’ll make a joke land, let them steamroll someone, or help them cartwheel circles around an opponent. They mix magic, hand to hand, and weapons wielding to enhance their performance. Whatever allows them to move the most, hit the hardest, crack the most jokey puns, and keep bouncing around the arena is the stuff they like. Other than that they really don’t have a preference- after all, they don’t pick the ballroom, they just dance :) Strengths: well versed in a crazy amount of different fighting styles/weapons/etc, extremely flexible (in body, planning, and while thinking on their feet), knows their limits exactly and will dance on the line like a tightrope walker, decent amount of physical strength and VERY HIGH endurance, capable of keeping the party/show/battle going for hours on hours no matter how long ago they should’ve fallen over, high pain tolerance, fast as a whip and sharp as a tack, their cleverness knows very little bounds (and often manifests in wordplay), very captivating stage presence, keeps a very firm grip on their emotions, gaslight gatekeep clownboss Weaknesses: oh my god they’re so constantly on edge and terrified its a wonder they haven’t dropped dead, absolutely impossible for them to ask for help (need to be dragged into being helped kicking and screaming), sinking in despair 99% of the time, nihilistic to the point that their despair can drag other people down without them even trying, extremely bad at processing emotions and just bottles them up until they explode, sucks at hoping or keeping hope alive, doesn’t know how to function outside of the dungeons Personality: Jester is, first and foremost, a clown. Everything’s a show, everything’s a dance, everyone’s freedom and choice is all a joke. To them, being “the best” just means you’ve got the top dog to back you up in whatever you’re up to. And, for a LONG long time, that was them, sitting at Lady Luck’s right hand. It was better to be up there with her as a lapdog than to be down where everyone else was, always in danger of being swallowed into a faceless crowd if the Lady got bored. It was harder to get attached that way, harder to get hurt. Not that they don’t care. They did. Despite all the times they’ve tried throwing away their feelings toward other people, the times they tried convincing themself they’re a selfish monster by throwing people under the bus and sucking up to the Lady, all the countless times they’ve watched people come in wide eyed and eager only to crumble into mindless dust, they still care. They’ll just never admit it- not willingly. Not with so much at stake. They’re well aware of the harsh reality they’re living in, and they’ve been around long enough that they don’t see a point in fighting it. Especially when nothing ever changes. Of course, if something were to change- if someone were to start breaking rules and not be instantly smote, if contestants actually tried to work together for a win instead of going all out in an every man for himself competition, if the Lady’s hand got thrown off for the first time in several centuries- well. Then, things might be a little different. They might finally have to be something other than a punchline. They might realize they don’t want to be stuck here forever, no matter how “safe” their position is. They might finally begin shifting their loyalties from the Lady and themself to something bigger than either of them. They might start to think of a whole new plan. They might, for the first time since they stepped into this wretched place, start to hope.

#jester dd #dicey dungeons #paradice #arty writes #artnerd1123

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edupunkn00b · 9 months ago

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Meus ex Machina, Chapter 18: Stepping Back

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.

Prev - Stepping Back - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 2525 - Rated: T - CW: non graphic nudity, suggestive, swearing. A major disinformation campaign and some not-so-subtle political manipulation.

New travels fast after Logan's machine makes its debut. After each of his machine's debuts, really.

“XHT-0731, you’re cleared for landing,” the comm squawked. “Proceed to platform seven-oh.” Eyes closed, Lucas let out a slow breath then pressed to talk.

“Affirmed, proceeding to platform seven-oh.” His hands shook as he switched off the mic and he forced his grip to relax long enough for the tremor to pass. Nearly there, then he could rest. He opened his eyes and focused on the beacon lights. The dash was awash in orange glow from his powers as he fought to control his nerves.

Thirty-eight hours ago, Lucas had been hunkered down a dozen miles south of the Honshu fires when a news report of a giant blue Kiryu mech attacking corporate facilities in the States hit his automated feed. He’d groaned and buried himself deeper into his sleep sack, hoping to tune it out and grab a bit of sleep when Jan’s DC number read in Japanese snagged his attention.

He set up a crawler to find more information and hit the air. Less than two hours later, the preliminary news reports of an accidental gas release had morphed into a suspected Powered terrorist attack, a world-wide conspiracy to expose the anti-theft measures at Abracadabra shipping facilities. Frantic talking heads—human and otherwise—chattered about this abhorrent abuse of power and betrayal of the secret knowledge granted their Powereds employees—

“More like fucking lapdogs,” he’d muttered, turning up the feed.

“… and what precisely does the Chancellor plan to do now about the rising risk of Powereds who’ve gotten too comfortable with the freedoms granted them in the last Act?”

Fuck.

The ship wasn’t far from the Siberian archipelago, so he landed and procured a new transport, one with a Russian transponder. While rising seas and toxic air had changed a lot of things in the world, some old prejudices never failed to make certain events ‘news’worthy.

He fed the latest reports into a textgen and translated the results back and forth between English, Russian, and Greek a few times before sending it out in a couple of worms to all the major news feeds.

The AI bots gobbled that shit up.

He hopped ships again and took off over the Arctic oil fields on a more direct route back to the East Coast. By the time he was back in range a couple hours later, the first trickles of outrage around the disinformation bots scheming to discredit Powerds had begun to fill the Atlantic and Euro news feeds. It turned out the gas leak had simply been a terrible, horrible, and completely unforeseeable accident and the mysterious Powereds who’d converged on the site to evacuate the Traditional workers had saved thousands of lives.

A few progressive channels were even calling for commendations for the Powereds at the site.

Lucas paused the vidfeed, Ro’s bright red suit making him easy to pick out of the crowd. Pat’s baby blue unitard was covered in so much dust it matched the giant grey gates some reprogrammed picker bot was yanking off their hinges.

Squinting at the grainy footage, he zoomed in. There was a man inside the bot, wearing it like a suit. And Pat…

Pat was guarding his back.

“Huh,” he said to the empty ship. “Looks like Jan finally recruited somebody new.” He unpaused.

The zoomed-in feed lingered on Jan’s face for one long moment before it cut away to another talking head extolling the glory of Corporate-Powered partnerships. Lucas switched it off. He pushed the engines and navigated to the nearest landing platform. One more hop to a new ship then he could head back to his cachette in the States.

The skids had just touched down when Re’s scream ripped through his mind. His head slammed forward, bouncing first against the controls and then the deck as he fell from his chair. Distantly, he registered the wet trickle of blood running sideways down his face as he reached out.

Re wasn’t hard to find. He was afraid, overwhelmed and hurt, but… purposeful. This was no accident.

Blinding orange leaking past eyes squeezed shut, Lucas curled on the floor. He hugged his knees tight to his chest, and held his breath, steeling himself.

Then he opened himself to the turmoil in Re’s mind.

It had been a long time since Jan had last dropped his shield, a long time since he’d last recruited Re to find someone in need. Who the fuck were they looking for now? And what made them so important they should hurt Re like this?

There wasn’t much Lucas could do from a distance, but he poured what little calm he had out into the world, smiling past his tears when Re picked up a bit of it before he was suddenly cut off again.

And just like that it was over.

Lucas lay panting, eyes slowly dimming as he scrabbled together his own composure. By the time he sat up, cold, sticky blood clung to the side of his head, a small, drying pool of it left on the deck. He washed himself and then the ship, spraying a thick layer of disinfectant and running the Steri-san on deep clean to eradicate any trace of his DNA.

The sterilizer system’s whine made for good cover as he crept out onto the mostly deserted landing pad to find a fresh ship for the final leg of his trip.

-“It worked.”-

Janus’ eyes snapped open, his room filled with the silence that followed a rung bell. He blinked in the darkness, the last stubborn tendrils of his dream sticky and fighting to drag him back down into sleep. He touched his face and his hand came away wet.

The house was quiet and calm, not even the usual dreams and nightmares of four other sleeping minds woven through the air.

Five. There are five other souls in this house. Five other minds here…

Five, he nodded to no-one. Five when you count—

Janus sat up, breath caught in his throat as he reached out to each of them. Virge’s mind relaxed—for once—in a dreamless sleep. The Prince’s gleaming castles he didn’t even need dreams to build in his mind. Pat’s cotton candy sweetness wrapped around a permanent, prickly worry. Logan’s unshielded thoughts screaming out, want and need and hope and pain and—

Re…

-“I told you,”- Gentle laughter poured into Janus’s head. -“I like it when you call me ‘Muse.’”

-“Muse,”- he repeated, mouth forming the word his name dancing in his mind. “How?”-

-“I told you, Jannie…”- The Muse’s thoughts were quiet, happy. Peaceful and maybe even a little spacey. A hand drew through his hair as he drifted off to sleep. He wasn’t alone in his room.

-“It worked.”- The Muse sighed, warm and comfortable and calmer than Janus could remember him being in a long time. Flashes of his night poured into Janus’ mind and he pulled back.

Mentally, he kept his distance, not throwing up a shield between them, but giving The Muse a bit of space, a bit of privacy for his thoughts and perceptions.

-“‘Night, Jannie,”- The Muse sent, a small marigold sparking to life on the pillow next to him. So bright, it almost glowed in the dark, soft orange petals lush under his fingertips. -“Will I see you in the morning?”-

-“Yes! Good night, dear Muse,”- he sent back, smiling when The Muse’s thoughts settled into sleep. “See you in the morning.” Reaching slowly, half expecting the flower to dissolve at his touch now that The Muse was asleep, he plucked up the stem, brought the blossom to his nose and inhaled. It smelled just like the flowers Patton grew in the cool house out back. Even in sleep, The Muse’s control was flawless.

He lay there a while, waiting for the flower to disappear. It never did. The rest of the house was asleep, flitting in and out of dreams. But even The Muse’s dreams were peaceful and quiet, a hushed buzz in the air.

When Machina had come to him with his plan, Janus had been afraid to hope too much. He’d permitted the experiments as long as Ro wasn’t too worse for the wear and remained a willing partner in the tests. Subject might be a better word. But he’d never actually expected the device to work. It was such a careful balance, blocking just enough of the world from him—and blocking enough of The Muse from the world. Over the years, they’d tried more times than he could count to adjust the power of his room’s shield over the years, had tried to lower it.

But each time the world poured in, it had been too much. It had always been too much.

As he bobbed in the ebb and flow of The Muse’s dreams, Janus couldn’t deny Machina’s device had indeed worked. He’d been wrong. All these years, he’d been wrong.

Had he given up too soon? Had they truly been just months from a breakthrough, just months away from some magic machine that could give The Muse enough control to be free?

What would life have been like then? If he hadn’t given up? If The Muse was just Re, having dinner with them, bickering with Ro over who got the bigger cookie or who’s turn it was to fly the transport.

All those times The Muse had asked about Luc, eyes swimming in tears, asking him to explain again why Luc had left.

What else had he been wrong about?

Janus smelled the flower again, petals tickling his nose. Ro was sleeping better, he noticed, the white noise of his brother’s mental presence a tonic he hadn’t had in a very long time. Janus relished his own relief, too, an empty ache suddenly filled, like putting on a ring that had been lost.

Janus stared down at his left hand. It’s likely he and Ro weren’t the only ones who’d felt the return of The Muse’s presence. Still carefully cradling the flower, Janus pushed back the covers and climbed out of bed.

He had a visit to make.

-“The sun’s been up for hours, Sleeping Beauty,”- Re’s imagined voice needled him and Roman rolled over, head buried under the pillow.

Re could just fuck right off. Machina’s eyes had that gleam in them when the latest prototype had passed its first tests, muttering about how they almost had it and he needed some time for just one more adjustment.

The same gleam that invariably meant the next day he’d push it too far and Roman would end up with another migraine. Or worse.

So yes, Roman was going to get his beauty sleep while he could, thank you very much! He burrowed back under the covers and willed the return of sleep.

-”Come on, Ro Bro! Get up!”-

Roman’s eyes snapped open and he flipped over in the bed, listening. It wasn’t yet dawn and Virge shifted next to him. “Y’okay, Princey?” he mumbled, reaching blindly for his arm.

“Ye-yes?” he said, that old hole in his chest suddenly… filled. The eerie silence in his mind, the quiet corner he’d spent every waking moment over the past few years fighting to ignore was… no longer silent.

His mind hummed, music and phrases and snippets of stories twirling together in a happy pas de deux. Half-awake, his own thoughts swirled, a semi-conscious call and response of ancient lyrics, dialogue from movies. Old arguments, minor and serious.

“Do…” Roman rolled to his side and faced Virge. His eyes held the same confused wonder. “Do you hear that, too?”

Virge closed his eyes, brow furrowed. Then he nodded. “Maybe… maybe not everything you’re getting, but…”

-”Re?”- Virge managed actual words while Ro explored nearly a decade’s worth of ideas and memories. -”Re, how are you doing this?”-

-”Why don’t you come find out…”- A memory flashed across his mind, stifled too quickly for Roman to process. -”Just give me a few minutes, yeah?”-

Virge had already pulled on a hoodie and opened the door. “You coming, Princey?”

The elevator doors were just closing when they arrived. Virge’s hand bolted out faster than he could see and they slid back open, revealing Papa Bear, pulling on gloves. Roman’s heart sank down to his toes when he saw the big med kit at his feet. “Padre, what’s going on? Is Janus with him?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, brows pinched in a little worried frown. “Jan messaged me in my room and he said he was getting ready and to go ahead. He…” He gave a little shrug, his tiny smile forced. “If it helps, he didn’t seem worried… just… Distracted?”

The elevator doors slid open on the lower level. The hall was silent.

“Distracted like he was talking with Re?” Virge asked, following them out of the elevator. They all stopped when they saw Re’s closed door, the shield’s warning light dark.

“Oh, fuck!” Patton muttered and ran to the door.

“Padre, wait!” Roman called after him but Virge beat them all and flung open the door.

“Re! Re, we’re here! We’re here, we’ll fix—Oh!” Virge froze just inside the doorway then looked down at the floor. “Oh, um, we—”

“Kiddo, what’s—Oh…” Papa Bear covered his mouth, the backs of his ears tinged pink.

Roman pushed past each of them. “What in the holy hell are you two—”

Re lay in bed with the blanket pulled up to his waist, pajamas in a heap on the floor. He held a single finger to his lips, glaring at them. -”I said to wait a bit! He’s sleeping!”-

Curled against Re’s side, equally bare chested, lay Machina.

-”Not anymore.”- Amplified by Re, Machina’s thought spilled out to all of them and Roman’s nerves boiled over into a laugh.

The Prince’s laughter was the final proof that the only way past this was through it. Logan pushed to sit up in the bed but only succeeded in knocking more of the blanket off himself. “So I suppose everyone knows we…” He pulled the covers up to his chin and tried to ignore his own heated cheeks. Remus smiled back at him, a wordless coo filling his mind before he smacked his forehead.

“Oh fuck, your pants!” he exclaimed with a laugh and ran across the room, heedless of his own nakedness.

“Kiddo!” Patton shook his head, a mix of laughter and admonishment in his voice as Remus gathered the clothes scattered around his room.

Shaking with laughter, Remus passed Logan his pants before scooping up his own discarded pajama bottoms. He looked around the gathering and grinned. “Oh, come on. Raise your hand if you haven’t seen me naked yet.”

Given Remus’ utter lack of shame, Logan was unsurprised to see no-one’s hand go up. However, his and Remus’ jaws dropped at the same moment.

“Wait, where’s—”

The hallway beyond Remus’ room burst into strobing yellow lights.

-”Jannie.”-

Logan had wiggled into his pants just before Patton reached for him, eyebrows raised in the obvious question. He nodded, trading his pride for a speedier trip back to his chair and his mech upstairs. The movement broke Remus from his reverie and he followed the team upstairs.

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lilacella · 3 days ago

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hi slothy i have another worldwide woofs request for austrian wolfstar: alpine skier sirius & cross country skier (LANGLÄUFER) remus (bonus points if it's wolfstarbucks and james is a snowboarder) (we would need another hashtag for worldwide wolfstarbucks) (world wide threesome?)

Hello😊❤️! I don't know if these cheesy Lebkuchenherzen are a thing in Austria too but I just think they should have them!!

I just love the concept of James and Sirius shooting down the mountain, doing insane tricks and Remus is just: 😊🥰 Hi! ☺️ I am skiing here 😊 Slow and steady ☺️

I bet he eats snacks out of his pocket at each little peak he has walked up. As he should be!

#i actually don't know shit about wintersports #world wide lapdog #world wide werewolf #world wide stag #world wide woofs #world wide wolfstarbucks #wolfstarbucks #austrian remus #austrian sirius #austrian james #wintersport au #moodboard #slothy's moodboard bonanza

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psychotrenny · 5 months ago

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This is also why many people around the world think positively of 9/11. They might not agree with the actual ideology and motivations of the hijackers. Hell they might not even agree with the method's necessarily. But as far as most of the world is concerned, the USA is a monster of a nation. Head of a powerful and brutal empire with influence over the entire planet, the turn of the millennium was an especially terrifying time for much of the world. After the fall of the USSR and before the rise of China and any other true competitors, the USA was widely seen as the world's only remaining superpower. For those who supported it, the US could do anything. For anyone outside the US and its most privileged lapdogs and collaborators, the US could do anything to them. Even those within that circle of privilege would often feel no small amount of shame and disgust at the system of global exploitation they were a part of, a system centered on and most openly represented by the USA.

To speak colloquially, borrowing the sort of personifying terms a lot of people think in, the USA is a bully. And people tend to cheer when bullies get taken down a peg. Regardless of how they felt about the death and destruction itself, it was exhilarating to see that this terrible nation could still be hurt. For people living in cities blown to rubble by US bombs and Napalm, living under the poverty and violence forced on them by US-imposed dictators, and even to those who escaped personal suffering and yet felt remorse and anger over the suffering of others, it felt good to know that for just a second the US felt a fraction of the pain they constantly inflict on the rest of the world. Regardless of how principled or coherent their objections to US hegemony are, anti-US sentiment is strongly held by many people right around the world (even in the US itself to some extent). On a human scale 9/11 could be considered a tragedy, but on a national scale it was a humiliation. This made it traumatic for those who supported the US, but those with opposite feelings on the US in turn have an opposite opinion. If an empire rules by terror, then don't expect people to feel bad when that terror gets returned

The thing with 9/11 is that no one cares that much about the death and destruction itself. Buildings fall down and people die all the time, including in the US. Like at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic you had entire 9/11s worth of USamericans dying on a regular basis. If all that damage was caused by an earthquake or faulty building practices or whatever, there wouldn't have been nearly as much fuss about it. It's not as if the insane response from US population was a matter of "two building fall down"

The reason why 9/11 was so upsetting to the US population was their widespread feelings of Imperialist Chauvinism and the subsequent outrage at seeing it so openly and violently defied. The US was at the height of its Imperialist power at the turn of the millennium, a hegemonic superpower that was dominant in some way over more or less the entire world. Whether they'd phrase it in such a way or not, most people in the US were very well aware of this; as far as they were concerned the US was truly the greatest country on the Earth. For some this was a point of pride, for others it was a simple fact of the world. This made them feel secure; bombings and mass killings might happen in those "shithole nations" of the earth but it couldn't happen over there. The US military could wipe entire cities off the map and like maybe that was good, maybe that was unfortunate and maybe it meant nothing at all. Either way that was normal; the violence flowed from the Core to the Periphery.

Until one day it didn't. One day a group of people from that Periphery, from some shithole group of nations, struck back. Now the sorts of destruction they'd seen on TV were happening right outside their window; the US got the smallest taste of the sort of brutality they had long inflicted on the rest of the world. And they did not like that taste at all. The US people as a whole went mad with grief and rage, not at the death of any people but the death of their sense of unquestionable safety and superiority. And the only hope of getting that feeling back was to inflict a revenge so terrible that no one would dare resist or retaliate again.

If bloodshed was how they'd built their empire, only more bloodshed could keep it safe. And this time they didn't even have to feel bad about it. It's not as if the US empire had ever given the world any peace, but now they had the perfect pretense to escalate it to levels not seen in decades. If they talked about this isolated and comparatively limited attack as though it was some great invasion, the US government and its supporters could take all the moral high ground of "self defence" even as they slaughtered impoverished peoples on the other side of the world. So it made sense to treat the 11 September attacks as though they were the greatest tragedy of all time. 9/11 didn't break the US psyche, it just made them express it in a more shameless way. It's not as though genocidal Imperialist violence was anything new to the USA. Afghans were just the new Apaches; the "Middle East" a new "Wild West"

#stella speaks

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himetsuri · 10 months ago

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Where the Sunlight Falls

None of his seven comrades said a word; they simply listened to what he had to say. Each one of them had lived in loneliness, not even being seen as people, all due to the powers they’d been born with. He who wandered in pursuit of an intangible “humanness”; He who could only find meaning in his existence in battle; He who didn’t know how to grasp a hand extended to him because his heart had become like a blade; He who had to close himself away because no one understood his sense of beauty; He who couldn’t maintain a sense of self without creating a wall between himself and others with fake smiles; He who couldn’t pride himself on anything besides destruction––– Ironically enough, it was because they were born with inhuman powers and were continuously labeled as monsters that they, more than anyone or anything else, were human.

"Say, you all…these past two months…how were they?" Miroku asked this to Junas, who'd happened to catch his eye. "How they were…they weren't really anything special." "Really? I was up there thinking the whole time, but…as far as I could tell, not a day went by where everything was quiet. Right?” As he said this, Miroku looked over them all with a very "human-like" and teasing smile, something incredibly rare for him. "It surprisingly…wasn't that bad, was it? Simply living day-to-day, without the need to put on a façade or hide.” Miroku chuckled. “And this was with just seven people…so, what if it was ten people? Or one hundred, one thousand…it's possible, is it not? A 'world where it isn't abnormal to possess extraordinary powers'…I'm going to create such a country. That is…the new objective of W.I.S.E." Miroku, having said all he wanted, silently closed his eyes once again. Everyone was shocked–––Grana, however, was the sole exception, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards in what looked like satisfaction and enjoyment. "You say a country, but…just how do you propose…?” "Ah, I pondered over that for two months. Though, I couldn't come up with a good way of doing it." At Shiner's hesitant question, Miroku answered rather nonchalantly. "So I thought, 'why not discuss it with all of you'…of course, this means changing course from our original direction, so I don’t mind if anyone wants out. I won't pursue you, nor do I have any desire to eliminate you. If you choose to appear before me as the government's lapdog, however, I’ll show no mercy.” He had no intention of rolling over and living life quietly. But that didn't mean he was going to live life stamping others out and flaunting his powers. That would be the same as being the "monster in human's skin" that'd pained him so. "I tried wielding the Devil's power to demolish the world, and then tried to build up a new one as its God…however, as it is, I am human…neither omniscient nor omnipotent. That's why I want you all to lend me your strength…” Miroku's words shook the Star Commanders to their cores, leaving them visibly stunned. Before, Miroku had gathered his allies with arrogant words, such as, "I'll give you your answers" and "I'll show you a new world.” This time, however, he spoke to them just as he himself had admitted: as but a single "human." But––– Clap clap clap… Vigo, who was standing by the wall, started clapping in an irregular rhythm. "Well now…to think you'd give me your approval." "I already…told you…the 'ultimate creation' is…born from ingenious 'destruction'…" "I may not be able to show you your desired devastation, you know?" At the very least, now that Uroboros had been prevented from colliding with the Earth, there wouldn’t be any earth-shattering devastation like there had been in the other timeline. "You don't get it…do you? Destruction you can see, by itself…isn't 'destruction'…'destruction' of values…'destruction' of common sense…those are the 'ultimate destruction'…Miroku…you have changed…but nothing has changed…therefore, I will unchangingly follow you…" Vigo said this with wide smile. It was a smile different from usual, somehow charming. "I'm surprised…for you to say such things to me…what could I even say to express my gratitude, I wonder…" "I don't need thanks…but…not long ago I was making a snow sculpture on the front lawn and a local found me…just forgive me for that." "Hahaha, well, that’s easy eno…eh?" Vigo–––real name Kise Eiji–––was one of the most eccentric in W.I.S.E. It wasn't just in regards to his personality, appearance, ability, and aesthetic sense. Before joining W.I.S.E, he was wanted across the entire country as a bizarre serial killer, and in a sense he was more infamous than Miroku. And presently, they were all in hiding. "You dumbass!!!" Seven members of the new W.I.S.E all screamed together in unison. "What are you doing, Vigo-san!" "Don't just fuckin' eat your porridge when we're in deep shit! Open your trap sooner!” Shiner and Dholaki grabbed Vigo's lapels heatedly as they shouted at him. Shiner particularly so, as his ability of "Teleportation" made him responsible for all of the shopping. He fulfilled every single selfish request–––from Riko’s crayons to Dholaki’s alcohol, even Uranus’ scarves–––just so they'd never be found by any pursuers. “Are all of my efforts a joke to you–––!?” His trademark was his perpetual gentle smile, but even he was visibly infuriated now that everything he’d done was all for naught. "Wait, everyone be silent!” Uranus, who was near the window, quelled everyone instantly. And then–––the far-off sound of sirens was growing closer. This was W.I.S.E, who faced the military head-on. The police were nothing to them. However, this was the last hideout they’d secured. Though they were Psychicers, they were still human. They got hungry and froze in the cold, too. They wanted to sleep in warm beds and take hot showers. "Haa…I suppose it can't be helped. Let's go." "Oi…can't we just leave this jackass behind…or maybe just stick him six feet under!" "Fufufu…my 'Zone Diver' has no weak spots…" "Before we start talking about countries, we should find a place we can actually settle down in first." "I wanna go to the ocean next! I'm tiiiired of the snow, I can only use one color of my crayons! And I hate the coooold!" "South…let's go to an ocean in the south for now. We should go for a warm island where it's always summer…" The Star Commanders began hastily making plans for their escape. “But someone is bound to pursue us no matter where we run to, so first we should take care of that…” “So what! All we gotta do is look for a Psychicer that can camouflage a big-ass area!” "I doubt Japan is the only place with organizations like Grigori. Most likely, they exist all over the world…if we free them and get them as allies…it should be easy to raise our numbers by a hundred or two." "We also need a Cure-user…and a Trance-user…we are…too focused on attacking…" "I want someone who's good at making candies tooooo!" Before his Star Commanders, who were frantic yet still somehow beginning to construct a concrete plan of action–––before his friends, Miroku smiled softly. "Oohh…sure has gotten interesting, hasn't it? Miroku." Grana, standing next to him, spoke up as if reading his mind. "You're enjoying yourself, aren't you…Grana." "Guess you could say that…well, the young guys are getting all restless, but things'll smooth out in the end. The world's big…not enough to take care of all of us, huh?" As he said that, Grana laughed. It was a satisfied smile, like that of a young boy who'd found the most entertaining thing in the world. Enough so to make one think that, perhaps, this was his true smile. That day was January 7th, 2010–––they had no idea that, in another timeline, this was the day known as “The Day of Rebirth.”

And so, time passed––– Many various events unfolded before them. They rescued those like them all across the world, those who’d been captured by the military or research facilities and treated like lab rats. At times, they engaged in violent battles in order to do so. They opened the eyes of those who’d closed off their hearts and relegated themselves to being tools and human weapons, and they confronted those plotting the world’s destruction just as Miroku had. And they reunited with Yoshina Ageha, who was similarly traversing the globe, once again clashing against him and fighting alongside him. And in this span of time, nine years passed before they knew it.

Their "island" was a small volcanic island in the shape of a half circle, floating on the ocean to the east of Okinotorishima at Japan's southernmost point and a thousand and some hundred kilometers directly south from Tokyo. But neither ships traveling through the area nor even spy satellites could detect this island. That was because one of their comrades was distorting the space around it. It was a bit smaller than Ishigaki Island and was occasionally hit by powerful squalls, most likely due to the subtropical climate, but generally the warm climate made it a nice place to stay. The highest area of the island, where he could look out over everything, was his favorite spot. There was a rock there that he'd taken a liking to that was perfect for sitting on, so there he was, immersed in thought. He could hear explosions coming from the east. Most likely, Dholaki and Junas were fighting again. It was on track to becoming an everyday occurrence, and he no longer had any will to stop it. Dholaki probably mouthed off about something stupid again and Junas, of course, had to return fire. Speaking of Junas, he received a confession from Riko the other day. He’d been trying to put some distance between them, his reasoning being, “Someone who reeks of blood like me isn't good for her.” However, at some point Riko had matured and gone to him seeking an answer. "I love you, Junas! I told you before, you're my 'fated person'…" she said. Despite how long they’d been together, it was the first time he’d seen Junas so flustered.

Well, his answer was obvious, but… From the west, he could hear even more explosions. Most likely, Uranus was one-sidedly challenging Grana to a fight. This had already pretty much become an everyday occurrence as well; he probably wouldn't stop even if he was told to, so he'd been given strict orders to at the very least not run wild in an area that would inconvenience others. If he broke this agreement, he'd be forced to go up north to Vigo's studio and help him make clay dolls as punishment. Finally, Miroku turned his gaze towards the south. Over there, houses of various sizes lined up to form a small village. Within it were two dark shadows. One was the girl they had saved half a year ago from the research laboratory in the country up north. Though she had recovered from her fractured mental state, her legs and hips were still weak and she moved around using a wheelchair. And the one pushing her wheelchair was the young man who had said, "Please kill me." The young man had said that he didn't need his own life. So Miroku had held onto that life–––that right of life or death and brought him and the girl along to this "island,” ordering him to devote himself entirely to her care until she fully healed. And, one month ago, after she'd recovered enough to be able to speak again, Miroku told the young man: “Confess the truth to her with your own mouth and beg for forgiveness. If she still calls for your death even after that, I'll kill you then.” It wasn't that he'd taken pity on him. It was simply a matter of reason. The one who possessed the right to kill or let live wasn't him, let alone the young man. He said such a thing because that's what he thought. And so the girl spoke. "You betrayed me. But you were the only one who saw me as a human. So I forgive you, as a human. And I’m grateful to you for saving me." Hearing that, the young man cried. He wailed like a newborn. At long last, the number of people living in the village was reaching one thousand. More than half of them were those with special powers, but the other half were lovers, parents and siblings, or those who had gotten involved in some way like that young man. And at the end of this long stretch of time, something was to happen at the "island" that Miroku would experience for the first time. "A baby…was born. The first life to be born on that 'island'…" They were W.I.S.E, who could do nothing but destroy–––for the first time, something was born under them. The baby's father told him, "I want you to come up with the name.” That was what made him want try once again. Try to speak with his only sister once again. After that long, long story, silence fell between the two of them. "I see…" #07 said nothing else in response. "That those with power and those without can understand each other is still something I…can't believe. However…even so…I think that they might be able to acknowledge each other." Not to deny or reject, but to each acknowledge that there are those different from oneself. That was the conclusion Miroku had arrived upon after all of his thinking. "I see…" #07's response was, as expected, short and simple. “Sister…our country is still small…frail…but one day, we'll make it so much bigger. We'll create a world where those with abnormal powers can live an ordinary life…and…when that happens…when that time comes…I'll come to see you once more. When that time comes, will you come with me? Will you…smile at me again…?" "…" Upon hearing Miroku's question, #07 let out a truly, truly deep sigh. "You really are a man who doesn't understand a woman's–––no, his sister's heart…even should ten years pass, that part of you won’t mature…” “Sis…ter?” "If you…are smiling happily, just as you did back then…then I will always be smiling…" She was smiling. It wasn't a fake smile put on as an indifferent response. It was a warm smile, overflowing with tenderness and affection. "…" No response came after that. "Um…hey…miss?” The girl who'd been sitting by her side the whole time–––the older twin sister spoke up. It was now around the time when the sun would start to set. The girl's younger brother had yet to return–––she thought, but then, he appeared from the woods, tottering closer with a glum expression and hands hidden behind his back. "Ah–––" The sister, not knowing what to say to him, stood up uncertainly. "Nn…" The brother stuck out his right hand. In it was the torn arm of the stuffed animal. "I'm really…really sorry…" He apologized, looking as if he was about to cry. His sister wasn't going to blame him anymore and shook her head, accepting it. #07 closed her eyes, as if satisfied with the scene before her. "Um…and this…too…” And then the younger brother brought out his left hand, still hidden behind his back. In it was a small crown woven from flowers. #07's eyes widened in surprise upon seeing it. "Th-That’s…where did you…!?" The question fell from her mouth on its own. "U-Um…the nice mister on the other side of the forest…taught me how to make it…" He went on to say, “I have one for you, too, miss,” and gave her another, slightly bigger one. "He asked me…to give it to the nice lady over here…” It was a part of #07 and Miroku's distant past–––a remnant of kinder memories when they could still smile at each other. "Honestly…he’s…it’s truly…truly…such a hassle, having such an exasperating little brother…" Tears began flowing from her eyes as she spoke. The feelings she thought to have been tightly sealed away began to overflow and trailed down her cheeks. The twin sister looked at her and commented.

“Oh, miss…so that's what your voice sounds like…" "Ah…" Without her realizing it, she had spoken; for the first time since, perhaps, that day she spoke with her brother for the last time, she talked with her own mouth. "It's such a beautiful voice…" "Yeah, it's super pretty…" The twins were looking up at her with smiles, and she returned one of her own. "Is that…so? Thank you…" Without her realizing it, she'd naturally spoken. And without her realizing it, she'd naturally smiled.

Izu–––Tenjuin Elmore's mansion. Her estate boasted a vast amount of land, and over in the south-east, facing the sea, was a patch of woods; a small annex had been built there and housed a single beautiful, long-haired woman. On a warm terrace where the sunlight falls, she would read picture books to the children. In a very beautiful, gentle, goddess-like voice.

~~~~~~

[Notes:

He who couldn’t maintain a sense of self without creating a wall between himself and others with fake smiles;

自分を保つ is a bit tricky to translate, but at heart it means to know who you really are. Not being swayed by others’ opinions or how they would think of you, not being swayed by your emotions. You know how you feel about something, your stance, your beliefs, and you stick to it. Unfortunately, we don’t know enough of Shiner’s backstory to pinpoint exactly which way this is meant.]

← Part 2 |

#psyren #amagi miroku #grigori 07

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hxdrostorms · 1 year ago

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// Don't reblog this post, I don't want it being spread around!

Some worldbuilding meta stuff that I'm using as reference for my muses, aka what I'm grabbing from G:

Gold saints are constantly sent out across the world, to do missions of a wide variety of its natures. Often it is meant to deal with mythological threats, that governments can't deal with on their own. It is left ambiguous on whether or not, the rest of the world is aware of them. But it is clear that the Sanctuary as a whole is treated and viewed as a myth, the sentiment extends to the Saints sent out from it as well (especially the gold ones).

Until the classic series events take place, there are effectively only 8 gold saints available to take care of those matters. Dohko only leaves his position, during the Hades arc. Saga is disguised as the Pope, so not at all taking the role of the Gemini saint. Aiolos is dead. And Mu is withdrawing and purposely avoiding the Sanctuary, ever since he noticed Shion's absence. It doesn't help that Deathmask and Aphrodite are being used, as Saga's lapdogs to take care of anyone, who's doing a bit too much questioning to his liking. So, effectively only 6 gold saints are truly available.

Whenever the saints are out in the normal world, they employ fake identities in order to get them around places. This was especially needed, while the gold saints were still technically minors. So, the use of fake IDs was a necessity for them to get around places. Because, contrary to what one would imagine, the majority of saints can't teleport themselves and even less fly towards certain locations on their own.

The Sanctuary is a lot more and bigger than the 12 zodiac houses, and the small village that's located close to it. It is treated as if it were a whole realm, hidden and separated from the rest of the world. It maintains a lifestyle and reality that's way more in line, with the ancient Greek lifestyle. As if the modern world had no influence on it. There are actual common/normal ppl living in the Sanctuary. It is not a land meant only for warriors and Athena's army. It is never explained how they got there, but it is possible to infer they are probably heirs of past warriors/extended family or even straight up misfortunate souls who wandered into it

The zodiac houses are also treated as the saints actual residences. I personally didn't like the way the manga treated, the idea of gold saints having servants, so I ignore that part. But the zodiac houses are a lot bigger, than being a battlefield or a simple pathway.

#ooc /#« scorpio milo : hc »#« virgo shaka : hc »#« cancer deathmask : hc »#« taurus aldebaran : hc »#« amazoness scorpio milo : hc »#« gemini kanon : hc »

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meowk9 · 2 years ago

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Types of Dogs: A Comprehensive Guide to Dog Breeds

Dogs are one of the most beloved pets in the world. They are loyal, loving, and intelligent creatures that make wonderful companions. However, with so many different types of dogs, it can be overwhelming to choose the right breed for you. In this comprehensive guide, we will explore the many different types of dog breeds, their characteristics, and what makes each one unique.

Introduction

Dogs come in all shapes and sizes, each with their own unique personalities and characteristics. Whether you are looking for a lapdog to snuggle with or a working dog to help on the farm, there is a breed out there for everyone. In this guide, we will cover everything from the basics of dog breeds to the specific traits of some of the most popular breeds in the world.

What is a dog breed?

A dog breed is a group of dogs that share a set of physical and behavioral traits that are consistent across the breed. These traits are determined by a breed standard, which is established by kennel clubs like the American Kennel Club (AKC) and the United Kennel Club (UKC). Breed standards include everything from the dog's size and coat type to its temperament and overall appearance.

How many dog breeds are there?

There are hundreds of different dog breeds in the world, each with their own unique characteristics. The AKC currently recognizes 195 different breeds, while the UKC recognizes 305 breeds. However, not all dog breeds are recognized by kennel clubs, and there are many more breeds that are not officially recognized.

The 7 dog breed groups

The AKC and UKC divide dog breeds into seven different groups based on their characteristics and intended purpose. These groups are: Hound group Hound breeds were originally bred for hunting and have excellent tracking abilities. These breeds include the Greyhound, Beagle, Bloodhound, and Dachshund. Working group Working breeds were bred for specific jobs like pulling sleds or guarding property. These breeds include the Siberian Husky, Boxer, Doberman Pinscher, and Great Dane. Sporting group Sporting breeds were bred for hunting and have excellent stamina and agility. These breeds include the Golden Retriever, Labrador Retriever, English Springer Spaniel, and Cocker Spaniel. Terrier group Terrier breeds were bred for hunting and have a lot of energy and a strong prey drive. These breeds include the Jack Russell Terrier, Bull Terrier, Scottish Terrier, and West Highland White Terrier. Toy group Toy breeds are small and were originally bred as companion dogs. These breeds include the Chihuahua, Pomeranian, Toy Poodle, and Shih Tzu. Non-sporting group Non-sporting breeds have a wide range of characteristics and were originally bred for a variety of purposes. These breeds include the Non-sporting breeds include the Bulldog, Bichon Frise, Dalmatian, and Poodle. Herding group Herding breeds were bred to help farmers and ranchers manage livestock. These breeds include the German Shepherd, Australian Cattle Dog, Border Collie, and Welsh Corgi.

Popular dog breeds

While there are many different dog breeds, some have become more popular than others. Here are some of the most popular breeds in the world: Golden Retriever The Golden Retriever is a friendly, intelligent breed that is known for its love of water and retrieving abilities. They make great family pets and are often used as therapy dogs. Siberian Husky The Siberian Husky is a working breed that was originally bred for sled-pulling. They are energetic, intelligent dogs that require a lot of exercise and attention. English Bulldog The English Bulldog is a popular breed that is known for its wrinkly face and loyal personality. They are often used as mascots for sports teams and are great family pets. Chihuahua The Chihuahua is a small breed that is often referred to as the world's smallest dog. They are loyal and affectionate pets that are popular with city dwellers. Jack Russell Terrier The Jack Russell Terrier is a small, energetic breed that was originally bred for hunting. They are known for their intelligence and are often used in movies and TV shows. Anatolian Shepherd The Anatolian Shepherd is a large, muscular breed that was originally bred to protect livestock from predators. They are independent, intelligent dogs that require a lot of exercise and training. Rottweiler The Rottweiler is a large, powerful breed that is often used as a guard dog. They are loyal and protective of their families but require a lot of socialization and training.

Types of dogs by size

Dogs come in all sizes, from tiny Chihuahuas to massive Great Danes. Here are some of the most common size categories for dogs: Small dogs Small dogs typically weigh less than 25 pounds and are often used as lapdogs and companions. Some examples of small breeds include the Chihuahua, Pomeranian, and Shih Tzu. Medium dogs Medium dogs typically weigh between 25 and 50 pounds and are often used as working or hunting dogs. Some examples of medium breeds include the Bulldog, Australian Cattle Dog, and Border Collie. Large dogs Large dogs typically weigh more than 50 pounds and are often used as guard dogs or working dogs. Some examples of large breeds include the Rottweiler, Great Dane, and Siberian Husky.

Types of dogs by coat type

Dogs can have a variety of coat types, from short and sleek to long and curly. Here are some of the most common coat types for dogs: Short-haired dogs Short-haired dogs have a smooth, sleek coat that requires minimal grooming. Some examples of short-haired breeds include the Bulldog, Boxer, and Dalmatian. Long-haired dogs Long-haired dogs have a coat that requires regular brushing and grooming to prevent matting and tangles. Some examples of long-haired breeds include the Afghan Hound, Shih Tzu, and Yorkshire Terrier. Curly-haired dogs Curly-haired dogs have a coat that is curly or wavy and requires regular grooming to prevent matting. Some examples of curly-haired breeds include the Poodle, Bichon Frise, and Komondor. Hairless dogs Hairless dogs have little to no hair and require special care to keep their skin healthy. Some examples of hairless breeds include the Chinese Crested and the Xoloitzcuintli.

Mixed breed dogs

While purebred dogs are often popular, mixed breed dogs can offer a unique set of characteristics that combine the traits of different breeds. Some popular mixed breeds include the Labradoodle (Labrador Retriever and Poodle), the Cockapoo (Cocker Spaniel and Poodle), and the Goldendoodle (Golden Retriever and Poodle).

Conclusion

There are hundreds of different dog breeds in the world, each with their own unique characteristics and traits. Whether you are looking for a small lapdog or a large working dog, there is a breed out there for you. By understanding the different types of dogs, their characteristics, and their purposes, you can make an informed decision when choosing the perfect pet for your family. Read the full article

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debtsunpaid · 1 year ago

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every denizen of the mill house scratches a different kind of itch, when it comes to faith: john is so hollowed-out-void of it that he scratches at the walls just to feel something, while chas pays his toll to heaven through suffering and dedication, as symbolic of martyrdom as the star of david around his neck. zed had been by far the easiest to figure out, faith and guilt already so twisted up in her like tangled fishing line that the only thing left to do was to retie the hook and she'd snare herself. liv, though . . . liv, he's still learning. he thinks her faith might truly be in john, grounded in the imperfect shape of the father she never knew — if so, what a torrid text to follow, as fated to end in blood as revelations. manny can show her better, in time. or maybe show her worse, in john.

he spreads his arms wide against her meek dismissal, a show of inquiring disbelief. " you say that like it's easy! the right thing is never the easiest thing to do, is it? the easiest thing for you would've been to stay in california, or ask for another cloaking spell and leave, but you didn't. you stayed. now how many people outside this building do you think would be brave enough to do that? "

the extension of his hand from theatrical to gentle is a seamless transition: he splays the wounded parts of her palm to the surface, smoothing down the ridges with the tips of his fingers. a hard worker, and gifted. john was smart to try and send her away. " ah, but minimal problems don't go away quicker just because they're a bite size smaller than the rest, do they? you could bleed yourself to death and the world would keep on spinning, sure. but this little corner of it, liv — you think they'd ever let you out of that mirror? ever take a step past this spot without freezing in time to find you? "

on jasper, the answer's short, and simple: not at all. that noble, inevitable sacrifice was written before he hitched his wagon to the rising darkness. but it would only kill the mystique to say so, right?

besides, he's seen the man's shadow long and strong across every floorboard, chasing heels like an ever-faithful lapdog. he's read the impression of the man along the edges of john's guilty soul — picked fragments of profile off of well-thumbed books, and honest opinions from chas chandler's fitful dreams. there's enough there to make up an outline in chalk, for his purposes: something he can scrub away in a hurry, if he has to. he hums instead, deniably affirmative, and subtly settles the heel of his hand against her pulse to monitor for reactions. " a good man. a faithful man, in his own fashion. " the eyes that lift back to hers are solemn, as he folds her scarring fingers between his own, pinning her hard work to his intent like a butterfly on a board. " you could say he was the reason i found you all, in a way. though i'm sure you can imagine what john would have to say to him about that. "

alright, she laughs, uneasy as it might be. she wasn't religious, not really. she'd been to sunday school, sure -- mostly at the direction of her grandparents, but she'd never been the praying type. she'd spent too many years praying for some kind of sign, some kind of glimpse of her father. and when it had finally come on the heels of hell raining down on her head, the divine lost some of it's shine.

but maybe he meant well. he seemed like he meant well, at least. smiling at her from above, like maybe she was part of god's almighty plan after all.

still, she shrugs, clearing her throat as she crosses her arms and looks towards the floor. "i dunno. about half the time i'm not sure he even remembers that i'm here." lips press into a wan smile -- she doesn't mean it, really. she'd long since gotten past the thought that john didn't care. she knew he cared. even if he couldn't dependably show it. "there's not really anything to be proud of though. i'm just doing the right thing..."

she trails off, watching him walk through the house with a sigh. it was funny, in a way. john had told her once that she was hard to read as well. or at least hard to predict. "well -- to be fair ... my problems are kind of minimal, comparatively. i don't have kids, or family, or ... sixty years of baggage. i could bleed myself to death tomorrow and the world would keep on spinning, you know?" she pauses, hesitation plain in her step before she finally obliges and reaches her hand out for him. it wasn't like he'd hurt her, at least.

"john deserves some kind of care though, i think. and chas. and zed. i don't think they get enough..." another pause follows, before she finally clears her throat. "did you know him? jasper ..."

#whcwashe #MANNY TXT. ( i have no time for confession for i'm too busy committing sins. )#oh were you looking for answers? have some lies :)

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absolutepokemontrash · 2 years ago

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A Rather Lovecraftian Exchange Student

Chapter One!

Last time, MC made their unforgettable entrance, and now, they’re undercover as a totally normal, totally adorable human exchange student! Now, Mammon just has to babysit this totally normal human exchange student. What could go wrong?

[Prologue]

[Next Chapter

Warnings: Violence, gore, body horror, MC gets called stupid a lot

——————————————————

Fuck, this human is a bit of a dunce, aren’t they? Mammon thought as he watched the human stare wide eyed at the world around them, not a single glimmer of fear in their eyes.

The little twinkling lights of stars that shone overhead instead of a sun didn’t seem to phase the human, they looked up and grinned wider than Mammon knew to be possible. They skipped along the cobblestone, stopping every once and a while to marvel at how their sneakers scuffed against the ground. They gazed into store windows with similar reverence that they gave the stars, marvelling at the outfits and merchandise on display until Mammon had to physically yank them away. Who would have thought? Mammon of all people, pulling someone away from a store.

The human, dumb as they were, didn’t seem to mind the demons that were staring at them like how Mammon looked at cup ramen. In fact, they looked those demons right in the eyes, smiled, and waved like a happy little tourist.

“Keep up, human!” Mammon snapped when he saw the human stop and ogle a store window display. The human looked over at him, gave him a dopey little smile, then sped after him when Mammon turned to keep walking.

Every time Mammon looked back behind him, he noticed how… unsteady the human looked on their feet. They’d speed up, then stumble slightly as their legs got tangled up with each other, or they’d stop and adjust their new RAD uniform if they stepped on the edge of their pants that were slightly too long for their legs. Tsk, a newborn baby deer could run better than this dumb human…

“Excuse me, Mammon?”

“What, human?”

“I just wanted to say,” the human finally caught up to him, and looked him up and down, before beginning to copy Mammon’s walk. “I have a name you can use, it’s MC.”

“Nah, I ain’t namin’ ya.”

“I’ve already been named though, you just have to use the one I’ve been given.”

“Tsk, shut up human, your voice is grating as all hell.”

“Grating, is it? Huh… interesting…”

Mammon snorted and rolled his eyes, jamming his hands in his pockets as his home-sweet-home came into view.

“Ya know, human, just because Lucifer called me over does not mean I’m his lapdog, got it?!”

“Clearly not, you are a demon, not a dog.”

“Yeah! So don’t think I’m not some big shot, I’m the biggest shot of all, the great Avatar of Greed himself!”

“Impressive!” The human stared up at him with those wide sparkly eyes of their’s, and Mammon felt blood rush to his cheeks as he quickly looked away.

“See, you get it.” Mammon ran a hand through his hair as he pushed open the gate to the HOL, then let it swing back and give the human a nice whack. “Now, rules of the house: don't bother me.”

“Ah,” the human said, wincing and rubbing the spot on their head where the metal gate had smacked them. “I understand.”

“Good, now I’ll show ya to your room and you’re gonna stay in there so Levi doesn’t-“

“So I don’t do what?!”

Mammon let out a (totally manly) shriek and whirled around only to come face to face with Levi, who looked… angry to say the least.

“L-L-Leeeeeeviiiiiiiii, what’s up bro?”

“What’s up?! Not my money, obviously! Do you really think I would leave my room for anything other than getting my money back from you?!”

“Now now Levi…”

The avatar of envy let out a low hiss that made Mammon’s hair stand on edge as a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his head. “You ah, haven’t met the human yet!”

“I don’t care about the human!”

“I’m MC.”

“Silence, normie!”

“Human,” Mammon said through gritted teeth. “This is Leviathan, the Avatar of Envy and the third oldest, Levi, this is the human.”

“I just said-“

“Oh would ya look at the time!” Mammon sputtered, looking at his bare wrist like there was a watch attached. “I’m gonna be late for not being here-“

“You stay put!” Levi reached out and grabbed the back of Mammon’s jacket before he could even make a move to run. Damn those gaming reflexes!

“Oh! A sibling squabble! How interesting!” The human exclaimed, clapping their hands. Just like that, a devious little idea creeped into Mammon’s mind…

Mammon grabbed the back of the human’s uniform, and lifted them off the ground.

“Levi, CATCH!“

And with that, Mammon threw the human at Levi and bolted out the front door.

Sure, the human might die due to Levi’s little tantrum, but that wasn’t exactly Mammon’s problem, was it?

…naaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh.

******************

“Stupid scummy Mammon…” Levi hissed as he stomped down the halls. That moronic ass-brain… I never should have lent him money!

“Oh my, is this how sibling fights normally end?”

Levi opened his mouth to reply, but then quickly closed it. No, fights usually ended with one or more brothers hanging from the rafters like a bunch or dummies and not with Levi dragging a human to his room by the back of their shirt.

“N…no just… just shut up, normie loser.”

“What’s a normie?” The human asked.

“You not knowing what a normie is only proves how much of a normie you are.”

“Oh… I see?”

“J-just shut up and get in…” Levi huffed as he practically tossed the human into his room and shut the door behind him.

“Pardon me, but I don’t think I like being dragged and thrown around.” The human said after picking themselves up off the floor.

“Well too bad because-“

“WOW!” The human’s eyes widened in amazement as they took in Levi’s room. They eyed the merch on the shelves, posters that adorned the walls, his gaming set-up, wow, maybe they were kindred spirits…

“What’s all this?” The human asked, tilting their head and looking back at Levi.

Nevermind, a newborn baby probably had more knowledge on anime than this human.

“Alright, let’s get down to business. I need you, and you need me.”

“I do?”

“Yes!” Levi dragged a hand down his face. “Quit interrupting, did anyone teach you manners up in the human world?!”

“…no?”

“AGH!” Levi grabbed to fistfuls of his hair and began to yank. “Just- just- LISTEN!”

The human shut up and listened.

“You are going to make a pact with Mammon, and when you do, you’re going to force him to give back my Seraphina figurine that he totally stole from me btw.”

“Oh… okay.”

“Good human.” As Levi sighed in relief, he caught the faintest flicker of a giggle on the edge of his senses. Was the human… laughing at him?

“Now that we’re in agreement,” Levi dusted off his hands on his jacket while the human seemed transfixed by the gesture. “You need to find out where Mammon’s credit card is being kept, that’s our bargaining chip.”

“Got it!”

MC turned to skip merrily out of Levi’s room, but Levi’s hand shot out and grabbed their wrist. “Ah ah ah! I need your pronouns!”

“My… pronouns..?”

“Yes! Your pronouns. Give them to me.”

“Why do you need them?”

“I need to know how to refer to you when I talk shit about you on Discord.”

“Oh…” MC put a finger to their cheek and thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t have any. I don’t think Diavolo gave me any when I got here. Do they come with the uniform?”

Levi smacked a palm to his forehead and rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’m going by they/them until you correct me.”

“But I’m a singular organism right now!”

“Just get out of my room!”

******************************

Mammon was great, no question about it, so how did someone as great as him end up pacted to some stupid human?!

Once again, over two weeks into the exchange program, the human, or MC as they had so nicely asked (demanded) Mammon call them, was still wandering around the Devildom like some wide-eyed little kid!

“Oi, human, keep up.” Mammon huffed, his hands were jammed into his pockets and fiddling with whatever loose coins he had in there. They were both heading to Hell’s Kitchen after a long week of schoolwork that MC had taken to like a fish to water.

Mammon nearly squeaked in surprise as the human appeared next to him, their usual dopey smile on their face.

“I’ve been getting better at catching up with you, haven’t I?”

The demon opened his mouth to reply, but closed it as he began to think. Huh, it had been quite a few days since the last time he had to physically drag the human away from some shady location or hungry demon.

“Y-yeah. You’re still pretty fuckin’ annoyin’…”

Mammon popped open the door to the restaurant, but before he could pointedly close it in MC’s face, the human burst in and flagged down the host.

“Table for two, please!”

The host’s gaze flicked from the human to Mammon, then shrugged and inclined his head towards Mammon’s usual booth.

“I’ve always wanted to do that!” MC clapped their hands and swung their legs back and forth after hopping into the booth.

“You’ve always wanted to… ask for a table at a restaurant?”

MC nodded enthusiastically, then began to thumb through the menu. “Asmo and I watched TV together and the couple asked for a table at a restaurant, then they ordered!”

Wrinkling his brows and muttering a quick “okay…” under his breath, Mammon similarly hid his face in the menu.

“Are you two ready to order drinks?”

Before Mammon could answer, MC piped up. “Yes! I’ll have a whisky on the rocks!”

“MC, it’s not even three in the afternoon.”

“But… that’s what the human on TV ordered…” MC’s shoulders visibly slumped forward.

“I’ll uh… have a coke.” Mammon quickly nodded to the waiter, who seemed relatively unphased by MC’s order.

After sitting in an awkward silence with the dejected human, Mammon sighed through gritted teeth.

“What the hell is wrong with ya?”

“Eh?” MC tilted their head and quirked an eyebrow.

“Why are you… like this? It’s like you’ve never been outside in your entire damn life.”

MC awkwardly folded in on themselves and averted their eyes, and Mammon felt his heart sink. Damn it! The human was making him feel things!

“Well… I want to do a good job being a human…”

“A good job at bein’ human… ya mean like, ya wanna be a good exchange student..?” Mammon tentatively asked, and MC glumly nodded in response.

“All of this stuff is so new to me, I’ve never really been a part of this sort of world before…”

“Ah, sheltered kinda life, huh?”

“I guess you could say that…”

Mammon rested his head on an outstretched hand and puffed out a cheek. “Tsk, then keep doin’ weird shit, ya ain’t gonna live life by bein’ boring.”

MC visibly brightened and gave Mammon a sunny smile. “Thank you, Mammon. You’ve been a wonderful guide.”

“I…” Mammon blinked a few times in confusion. “I have?”

MC nodded. “You’ve protected me, helped me make lunch, made a pact with me over a piece of plastic-“

“Okay okay, we don’t need to bring up Goldie!” Mammon winced at the mention of the circumstances of his pact with the human, and the mention of his newly maxed out credit card.

“Okay, won’t happen again!” MC gave Mammon an adorable little salute, and Mammon felt blood rush right to his cheeks.

“T-tsk, I’m not Levi, I don’t need any dumb salutes…” Mammon said as he shimmied out of the booth.

“Where are you going?” MC asked, wrinkling their forehead in concern. Ugh… dumb adorable concerned human…

“The bathroom!” Mammon lied, he just needed to get out of there…

“Oh, you need to empty your bladder. Understood.”

“D-don’t just say shit like that!”

*************

MC drummed their fingers against the table as they surveyed the room around them, the waiters rushing around, taking orders and serving meals, the rowdy patrons all enjoying themselves and rambling, it was all so different than the life MC had once known. So many people to talk to, so many things to see, so many friends to make!

A harsh slam on the table brought MC back to reality, they looked up and saw two demons, both as tall and imposing as any other, but they both had big smiles on their faces. MC smiled right back, they had been told smiles were good things!

“Hello!” MC chirped. “My name is MC, pleasure to meet you.”

One of the demons giggled, putting a dainty hand over her mouth to try and muffle it. “Awww, sweet human, did your babysitter leave?”

“Babysitter? Oh, you mean-“

“Yes,” the second one interrupted, sliding into the open seat next to MC. “Mammon. Poor little human, you don’t have a very competent guardian, do you?”

“Mammon is perfectly competent!” MC huffed, crossing their arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Is he now? But he left you here all alone…” the she-demon drawled, slowly beginning to drum her nails against the wood table. “Anyone could just come over and snap your poor little neck.”

“Lots of things could snap my neck, humans are very breakable.” MC fired back. “Demons aren’t special in that regard.”

The demon next to MC barked out a laugh. “Want to see if I can?”

Quick as a flash, the front of MC’s uniform was balled up and they were slammed against the wall of the restaurant, drawing the attention of the other patrons.

Ah, aggression. MC found themselves calmly thinking. What did Lucifer say to do when this kind of thing happened?

“Hey man,” one of the nearby patrons called out, resting their head on an outstretched hand and looking at the scene like it was almost… boring. “Lucifer’s gonna kill you if he finds out you ate one of the exchange students.”

“Oh come on, it’s just a little snack.” The she-demon giggled, licking her lips and staring up at MC like they were a four course meal. The other demon’s grip only grew stronger as MC tried to squirm out of it, the exchange student then scowled.

They didn’t think they liked this.

“And the service here is shit, I’ve been waiting forty minutes for my food.” The demon holding MC growled. “And what do you know, a human is just sitting around waiting to get gobbled up.”

Hmmmmm… MC continued to try and remember what Lucifer had told them, but they had been so entranced by the shiny bottles of Demonus that they may have not been fully paying attention.

“Fine, it’s your funeral.” The other patron rolled their eyes and went back to their food.

“Remember MC, it’s now your job to make sure Beel doesn’t clear out the refrigerator.” Oh, yes that was something Lucifer had said, but it wasn’t the right thing.

“Just hurry up and kill the stupid thing so it stops making that dumb face!” The she-demon hissed, flicking her gaze from the exit that Mammon had left from to back to MC.

“If anything tries to injure you, you have my permission to reveal your more… eldritch qualities.”

Oh! MC remembered. That was it!

To the chorus of the sickening sound of cracking bones, MC’s chest and ribcage tore itself open, consuming the demon’s hand that was currently pinning them to the wall.

The she-demon let out a shriek of terror as MC’s ribcage took on a more teeth-like appearance and snapped shut on the hand, biting clean through.

MC’s hands shot out and grasped either side of the demon’s face, pulling them closer as their ribs tore and ripped through the flesh of the demon’s arm.

“Are you going to attempt to injure me further?”

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”

MC’s head lolled back, their mouth open and unmoving, their voice still rumbled through their open chest.

“If your goal is to harm me, just know, I can crush you just as easily as you could crush a simple human.”

And with that, MC grabbed a fistful of the demon’s hair and threw the demon back until he slammed into the opposite wall. Blood sprayed through the air from the serrated stump where MC had chewed through the demon’s arm at the elbow. The she-demon screamed again and quickly scrambled out the door as MC calmly closed their chest back up, and sat back down in their seat.

The other patrons were deathly silent, all staring bug-eyed at the “human” in front of them.

For a beat of silence, no one moved, no one said a word. Then, MC simply smiled, and gave everyone a wave.

“I’m MC! Pleasure to meet you!”

*********************

Mammon clumsily fumbled with his lighter in a shaky attempt to light the cigarette that was seconds away from falling out of his mouth.

Tsk, dumb human… Mammon thought to himself as he finally managed to light it. Makin’ the great Mammon feel shit…

The stupid wide eyed wonder at the world, the sheer amount of patience this human had for his bullshit. Hell, they even seemed entertained by all the stuff he did.

They’re a fuckin’ idiot too… Mammon reminded himself. The human did basically everything and anything he asked them to do, despite being the one with the pact with him.

Mammon could say anything. “Oi human! Make dinner for me, would ya?” “Oi human! Help the great Mammon, clean up his room!” And the human would do it.

Sure, their cleaning was sloppy sometimes, and sure, the food they made wasn’t the best, and sure the human cut him down from the ceiling once and dropped him right on his head, but it was the thought that counted.

Despite basically having the free human servant he had originally treated MC as, he couldn’t help but want to spend even more time with this happy little human. Their optimism and happy attitude was as contagious as the damn plague.

A loud thump and a chorus of shrieks from the inside of the building made Mammon jump and whirl around. Fuck- he left the stupid human in the middle of a building full of hungry demons- HOW MUCH OF AN IDIOT WAS HE?!

“Shit shit shit-“ Mammon muttered as he rammed his shoulder into the door and burst back inside to see… nothing.

MC was sitting down in their seat, waving at the patrons who were all just… staring at them. The smell of demon’s blood was fresh in the air, but, not human blood. Mammon quickly rushed back over to the pair’s table and gave the human a quick once over.

“What the fuck happened?!” Mammon whisper-yelled at the still dopily smiling human.

“Oh, just a little fight, no big deal.”

Mammon breathed a quick sigh of relief. It was only the smell of demon’s blood in the air, two demons must have gotten into a scrape and then got kicked out… phew.

*************************

“Help me!”

MC sat up in their bed, quickly dilating their pupils to be more accustomed to seeing in the dark of the Devildom night. There was a little voice in their head, soft and almost sleepy sounding, but the desperation at the edge of it send MC’s mind wandering.

“Hello?” MC whispered, tilting their head and waiting for a response that didn’t come.

“Hmm.” MC threw off their covers and shrugged, stepping into their new slippers and leaving their room.

As they wandered around the house, following the pleas for help that echoed through their head, MC almost giggled to themselves. It was like a game of hot and cold!

“Hurry!” The voice whispered again, much louder in MC’s head this time. Ah! I must be getting close!

MC pushed open a heavy wood door and was suddenly hit with a blast of cool air. Lucifer stood in front of a large spiral staircase, arms crossed and frowning like he was expecting MC to be there.

“What are you doing up, MC?”

“Good evening, Lucifer.” The exchange student said with a sunny smile. “I had just the most eventful day today!”

“That doesn’t answer my-“

“First, I found out that if you put currency in the vending machines, they dispense change if you put in too much!”

“MC-“

“Then, Mammon taught me how to properly double knot my shoes!”

“Please just-“

“Then I was nearly attacked at Hell’s Kitchen when Mammon went to use the restroom, I took care of it, but what an absolutely thrilling experience!”

“You were-“

“And now!” The human’s eyes seemed to almost glitter with glee. “I’m hearing a voice that’s asking me for help!”

Lucifer’s face went nearly completely white, his right hand slowly balled into a fist as his eyes flicked from MC, to the staircase.

“So if you’ll excuse me, I have to-“

Before MC could slip past Lucifer, the demon’s hand shot out and grabbed the back of their shirt, holding them firmly in place.

“MC. Go back to your room.”

“Why?”

“Just do as I say. You are here as an exchange student, and nothing else. No need to concern yourself with… voices.”

“Oh. Alright then, goodnight, Lucifer.” MC said with a cherry wave of their hand before walking back towards the door. Before they left, however, they gave Lucifer one final glance, the sweet little smile still on their face.

“You know, Lucifer,” they said, their voice as level and saccharine as always. “The demon that attacked me grabbed me in a similar way,”

Lucifer watched as behind the thin fabric of the exchange student’s shirt, from their bellybutton to the edge of their chin, what looked like a mouth split and cracked into a large, fleshy, smile.

“Now he’s missing an arm.”

***********************

The moment the door to the attic clicked shut, Lucifer turned and started up the stairs. He was going two steps at a time, nearly unable to breathe as sweat beaded on his forehead. The hard thumping of his own heart against his ribcage and the nervous ringing in his ears was enough to drive him mad as he finally reached the hallway to his little brother’s temporary living space.

“Congratulations, Lucifer, you’ve stopped your awful little brother’s plans. Whatever am I supposed to-“

“Stop trying to contact the exchange student.”

Belphie looked up from his spot on the bed, he lazily sheathed and unsheathed his claws as he gave Lucifer a tired glare.

“Now that you’ve told me to stop, I’ll never do it again, older brother of mine.”

“I’m serious, Belphegor. You don’t want what’s downstairs coming up here.”

The sloth demon raised an eyebrow, then smirked. “Are you… scared of the human, Lucifer? You?”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” Lucifer set his brow and fixed his younger brother with a harsh glare. “For the good of-“

“Yes yes, for the good of the exchange program.” Belphie rolled his eyes and turned over, covering himself with the multitude of blankets lying around. “Now do me a favour and get the fuck out of here.”

As Lucifer turned to leave, one thought was branded into his mind.

It’s not the exchange program or Diavolo I’m worried about upsetting…

————————————————

Author’s Note

Phew! That was a lot! School’s kicking my ass already and it’s only the second week, combine that with me playing DND with some lovely friends of mine and this chapter ended up being finished a little later than expected.

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