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purrplemoon · 2 years

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𝗔 𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝗙𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗵, 𝗗𝗮𝘆 𝟰𝟮: 𝗜𝘇𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜𝘇𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗴𝗶

Izanami and Izanagi are a pair of creator gods, or Kami, in Shinto. They are credited with the creation of the Japanese islands and the other Kami. Their names are thought to mean something like “she who invites” and “he who invites”, respectively.

𝗞𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘂𝗺𝗶

The legend of Izanami and Izanagi is recorded in the two oldest classics of Shinto lore, the 𝘒𝘰𝘫𝘪𝘬𝘪 and 𝘕𝘪𝘩𝘰𝘯 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪, both from the 8th century CE. Though Izanami and Izanagi are the progenitors of all the earthly Kami, they are not the first. The first Kami were the mysterious “Kotoamatsukami” who are self-created and without gender. Originally there are three such Kami, but two more come into existence later. After these mysterious and aloof cosmic beings come the seven generations of gods. The exact relationship of these gods to one another is not overtly specified, but from their title as “generations” and the fact that they aren’t counted among the Kotamatsukami, it can be inferred that some among them were brought into existence by the Kotamatsukami and the generated the rest. These seven generations include two generations of singular, genderless Kami and five generations of male/female pairs ending in Izanami and Izanagi. The two young gods are given a mandate by the Kotoamatsukami to create the Earth and are given the heavenly spear Amenonuhoku to do it with. The two stand on the bridge of heaven above the swirling chaotic primordial ocean and plunge the spear into its depths. The salt water that drips from the tip becomes the first land, the quasi-mythical island of Onogoroshima which may be modern day Nushima. On this island they built a palace to live in around a pillar known as the pillar of heaven. When they were ready to procreate, they performed a ritual, each walking around the pillar of heaven in a different direction. When they met, Izanami greeted Izanagi who then greeted her back. The two then had sex and produced a child. This child was not what they had expected. It was born with no limbs or bones, a sad and deformed creature named Hiruko; “Leech Boy”. They put the child in a boat and sent it out to sea. In modern Shinto, Hiruko is said to survive and eventually develops, becoming the lucky god Ebisu. Before that though, Izanami and Izanagi need to figure out what went wrong. The elder Kami inform them that their ritual was amiss as Izanami should not have spoken first. Thus, they perform the ritual again, this time with Izanagi greeting Izanami first. They have sex again and this time give birth to the classical eight islands of Japan (modern Japan contains more, notably Hokkaido and the Ryukyu Islands). This part of the story is called the “Kuniumi”; “Birth of the nation”.

𝗞𝗮𝗺𝗶𝘂𝗺𝗶

Now that there is Earth, or at least the Japanese islands, Izanami and Izanagi must fill it with Kami. This is not difficult as almost every action either of the two progenitors take creates grand lists of Kami in the 𝘒𝘰𝘫𝘪𝘬𝘪 and 𝘕𝘪𝘩𝘰𝘯 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪. This all goes well until Izanami gives birth to the fire Kami Kagutsuchi. Because he is made of flame his birth burns Izanami’s genitals which results in her painful death, though not before more Kami are created from her vomit and urine (as I said, every action creates Kami). Distraught, Izanagi beheads Kagutsuchi, and act which also creates many Kami from the droplets of blood. Izanagi travels to the land of the dead, the subterranean Yomi, to retrieve Izanami. Unfortunately he is late, and Izanami has already eaten the food of Yomi, thus trapping her there. Izanami tells Izanagi she will go barter with the lords of Yomi for her release, but he must not make any light. Izanagi is unable to fulfill this request as he wishes to see the face of his beloved again. Upon lighting a candle Izanagi is met with a horrific sight: the once beautiful Izanami is now a rotting corpse. Horrified, he decides to flee Yomi. This betrayal, on multiple levels, enrages Izanami. From her rotting flesh she creates 8 thunder Kami, or Raijin, and the terrible hag known as Yomotsu-Shikome. Izanagi is narrowly able to escape to the surface and plugs the entrance to Yomi with a boulder. Izanami curses him, stating she will take the lives of 1,000 people every day to Yomi. Izanagi retorts that he will create 1,500 every day. Thus the separation of the underworld and the cycle of life and death are established. There is one final act in this portion of the tale. Inzanagi goes to purify himself with water which naturally creates many Kami. Most notably are the Kami produced when he washes his face. Of the water wiped from his right eye the moon Kami Tsukiyomi is born. From the water wiped of his nose the storm Kami and culture hero Susanoo is born. From the water wiped from his left eye the sun Kami and ancestor of Japan’s Imperial line Amaterasu is born.

Image Credit: Searching the Seas with the Tenkei (天瓊を以て滄海を探るの図), Kabayashi Eitaku, 1880’s

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purrplemoon · 2 years

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Japanese Mythology & Deities

Major Gods in the Chronicles (43)

Ukanomitama-no-kami ~ O-inari-san, the god of business prosperity, is worshipped at tens of thousands of shrines

In the Kojiki (Records of Ancient Matters), he is called Ukanomitama-no-kami. It is generally known as ��O-inari-san”.

The main shrine is Fushimi Inari Taisha in Kyoto. As the god of many Inari shrines throughout Japan, it is one of the most popular and most worshipped gods in Japan.

In the Kojiki (Records of Ancient Matters), he was the son of Susanoo and Kamuooichi-hime, whose elder brother, Ootoshi, helped Okuninushi to establish the country.

In the Nihon Shoki (Chronicles of Japan), he is the son of Izanagi and Izanami, and is regarded as the same god as Awashima, who was born with the express intention of giving birth to the god of food.

The word “uka” in the name of the god means grain or food, indicating that this god is the protector of a good harvest.

By the way, many people will immediately associate O-inari-san with a fox. That fox is a messenger of Inari. In nature, foxes spend the winter in hibernation, but come down from the mountains in spring. For this reason, they were regarded as messengers of the mountain gods, or transcendental beings.

日本神話と神様たち

記紀に登場する主な神々(43)

宇迦之御魂神 ~ 商売繁盛の神「お稲荷さん」として数万の社で信仰される

古事記では宇迦之御魂神（うかのみたまのかみ）、日本書紀では倉稲魂命（うかのみたまのみこと）と表記する。一般的には、「お稲荷さん」の名で親しまれている。

総本社は、京都の伏見稲荷大社である。全国に所在する多くの稲荷社の祭神として日本で最も信仰されている、きわめて人気の高い神の一つである。

古事記において須佐之男命（すさのお）と神大市比売（かむおおいちひめ）との間に生まれた子で、兄には大国主神（おおくにぬし）の国造りに貢献した大年神（おおとしのかみ) がいる。

日本書紀においては伊邪那岐命（いざなぎ）と伊邪那美命（いざなみ）の間の子とし、食物の神を生もうという明確な意思によって誕生する粟島（あわしま）と同神とされる。

神名の「ウカ」は、穀物・食物を意味する語で、この神が五穀豊穣を守護する神であることを示す。

ちなみに、お稲荷さんといえばただちに狐を連想する方も多いだろう。あの狐は、お稲荷さんのお使いである。自然界の狐は、冬の間は冬ごもりをしているが、春になると山から下りてくる。そのために、山の神すなわち超越的な存在の使いとみなされていたのである。

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purrplemoon · 3 years

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i’m gonna be honest here… i think i LOWKEY have a piss kink. 😵‍💫

any thoughts on kisaki + his need to be possessive with his significant other? his need to “mark them as his” even? i’m very curious of your thoughts on this. 💛

“cry for me.” ft. kisaki tetta.

MINORS DNI / DARK CONTENT AHEAD!

summary: with an abrupt individual meddling in your life, kisaki needs to remind you who you really belong to.

a/n: don’t lie, we both know what lowkey means 🙄 but no, because - because i've been waiting for a hot minute to talk about this and elaborate. i have so many thoughts. let me grab my glasses, i'm studying this matter. you did this. i've been meaning to write kisaki for a while and you just gave it to me 🧐 let’s go!

song that inspired writing process: cry for me (yes, i was exactly listening to this song in replay.) + fetish.

tw: crybaby!reader, porn without plot, blow job, piss kink, water sports, very primal marking, humilliation, slight!dumbification, dacryphilia, possessive!behavior, sadist!kisaki, mating press, cervix kissing, tummy bulge + creampie <3 in this household we love creampies.

wc: 1.5k+.

Kisaki hates the idea of other people around you.

It's not that you let it happen, clearly — you're quite reserved and have a specific way of handling yourself, limiting to a circle of people you trust. Yet, he still can't escape the clutches of your damn best friend; the fucking imbecile who thinks that for knowing you for years he has the absolute right to brush his filthy hand against your shoulder, your skin (which belongs to him), your everything — especially while looking at him through feline-like eyes, a smile from ear to ear as he leans on your neck, holding you by the hip with his free hand.

He did what he had to do in those cases, really. The one who started this was him, not Kisaki. At the end of the day, you'll be better off with the absence of someone who just wants to take advantage of your vulnerability. It was preferable that those expresssions of adoration or affection were only directed towards him, wasn't it? It was much better when your soft lashes were peppered with tears for him and only him, not that worm that was being stomped multiple times by Hanma while you took your time in your shared suite.

After all, you gave him the power to properly claim you. You’re his, his, and only his.

“Come on,” He mutters, closing his eyelids as he tilts his head back. “Show me that I am the only man you love. Try harder.”

His long hand was perched on the back of your neck, fucking himself against your mouth while you tried to hold back the tears running down your cheeks from the pressure of his fat cock, choking you and causing your closed throat to suffer contractions; breathing through your nose was in vain, makeup ruined, eyes darkened by your runny mascara, your red lipstick smeared as you did your best to put an end to his doubts with his tip resting your lips.

“H-Hmpf,” You complain, subtly lowering your face and bobbing your head up and down, the bulge in your throat; you feel it on the tip of your tongue, the vein being licked with the most lewd or dirty touch there may be. “K-Kisaki, I can't. ‘s to big. Need...”

“You’re not allowed to speak until you make me cum.”

And you do your best to show your infinite affection, taking him to the base with your nose in his pubic hair, his balls colliding against your drooly chin as he lifts his hips. He's showing you that this is not for your benefit, per se—he's being too good at even allowing your hands to snake onto his hips instead of tying them behind your back, “Fuck,” He gritted his teeth, increasing the speed of his thrusts. “Fucking... You’re doing good, sweetheart. Keep it up, yeah?”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as your exhausted cavity does it best to fully receive him, his hands at the sides of your warm ears as he presses a bit, a fastest and brutal pace being established without Kisaki even letting you breathe out. You just look so cute when you submit to him, so righteous and correct with everyone, but collapsing into little pieces of an adorable lovesick fool when you’re with him.

And he’ll do just as much.

He wants to see more of you, more of your tears — more of your swollen lips and your vulnerability, sprawling you on the velvety sofa where you were kneeling before, his thighs at the sides of your body as he begins to turn his rutting more erratic; frenetic. “Shit,” His guttural voice comes out, hips slamming downwards brutally until he hears you whimpering, almost complaining. “You’re crying for me that much?” A smirk, rough breathing abandoning his mouth. “Cry more. I want to see your teary face.”

He feels something in his abdomen, but it isn’t close to what he should potentially feel to consider is a climax. Kisaki is a smart man, of course; he always knows what he's doing or the purpose behind it, his sharp fanged smile showing his victory as he suddenly pulls out, leaving your mouth empty, jaw open, “Well done,” He pauses for a second, your back on the cushion, his cock between your thighs. “Still, you aren’t exempt from punishment.”

“What do you mean -- huh?”

What you feel on your skin is nothing compared to his cum, a warm sensation that makes the heat expand through your cheeks, the liquid running down your legs in a lewd, dirty way, as if you were a public urinal with Kisaki's laugh rumbling in the recesses of your mind. Your expression is pleasant enough to be part of a photoshoot, exalted gasps coming from your lips when you press your wet thighs, yellowish substance staining them, slowly descending to your ass cheeks and impregnating the area with all him.

All filthy him.

He just catches your face in his hands, looking at you from his position with that hint of superiority. Victory, he would chant. “What a miscalculation. Guess you’re my bitch now, hm?” And the tears continue straining your face, humiliation vibrating in every part of you; he enjoy watching it, up to a point. “Oh, honey. You don't want your friend to see you this ruined, right?” He hums, raising an eyebrow. “So embarrassing. Just turned you into my little disposal... We should deal with that, shouldn’t we?”

“Y-You're so mean,” You sniffed, covering your face with one hand. “I-I don't like it.”

“Stop lying. You love mean.” He licked your cheek when he leans in slightly, kissing your heated forehead afterwards. “Besides, I'm not quite done with you -- you haven't made me cum yet.”

“Because you’re torturing me,” you sob. “Please.”

His smile only widens when he slides your ruined panties down your damp thighs, your arousal visible from the expensive fabric of the lingerie he buys you flawlessly, even when you insist he doesn't. “Poor you,” he muses, tossing the garment at one point in the room, arms trapping your body beneath his, imprisoning you in a lock. The tip of his cock had residue of his piss mixed with your saliva, veins pulsing in his girthy dick. “There’s no one here to blame but yourself. You should've given me my place, darling. You should’ve told that fucking pervert that you belong to me, and that he should back off.” He expressed false pity for you, cooing at your broken form. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just have to remind you.”

He doesn't give you time to breathe when he catches you off guard, his cock thrusting inside, thighs shaking against your chest as his hips keep pushing rhythmically into your pussy, the lewd sound of your cunt against his pelvis prevailing in existence; it was wet, his “little gift” on your skin, burning under the touch of his length.

Your moans increase as his rutting becomes more palpable and brutal, hands trying to keep a hold on yourself -- you were aware that he had no mercy when it came to punishing, not even when his cock kisses your cervix in a painful way, the bulge in your tummy tightening with each thrust, “F-Feels good,” You stammer, shaking your head, a drooling thread running down your lower lip. “It feels… so good, Kisaki,” A gasp erupting from you, breasts bouncing with his movements. “You make me feel g-good.”

Your babbling is music to his ears, prayers that are the purest form of your devotion to him -- and this is what makes him not only remind you of your place, but it also reminds him of his, “Hah,” he moaned through gritted teeth, his face descending toward yours, erratic thrusts breaking you with a brutality that drove you closer to the edge. “So, you’re coming back to your senses?”

Above you, Kisaki feels like the king. Even if he has all of Japan at his feet, he prefers when he has you on your knees, venerating him with tears that taste like a part of him that is more fragile, hidden in the closed doors of his thoughts; but like this, though... When he sees you like this (only for him and no one but him), he can’t control his animalistic impulses any longer -- the most primal thing that such a civilized man can possess in the face of a trap manifesting in your form.

You're screaming until your throat is hoarse, and he loves it. “Can’t,” You cried, “Can't take it anymore,” Your walls are squeezing him, an exasperated moan leaving your lips in the form of a sobby whimper. “Can’t -- can’t more. ‘m going to cum, Kisaki.”

And your orgasm doesn’t delay any longer, legs descending to his sides to abandon the uncomfortable position, arms around his neck, drawing him closer to you. Your hands spread down his back, his moans now against your ear, “Good… good girl. Just like that,” he repeats, his praises hiding his real purpose. “You feel so good,” he closes his eyelids, hair messy, hands digging hard into the cushion. “Tell me, then. Am I the only one for you? Nobody else can make you feel this good, right? I’m the only one you think about, don’t you?”

“No one else—no one else, darling!” You thrashed, overstimulation overcoming you. “Just… Just you. It will always be just you.”

It only took a few seconds, words that make his orgasm struck him with the same force as yours, filling you up until he feels is enough -- until he feels that you're his enough, your gasps mixing with his accelerated breathing, “Ugh,” being whispered against your skin until he finds his place in the world right in the curvature of your neck.

His nose presses against your sweaty skin, your heartbeat against his body, and he doesn't dare to pull out for a second when he pushes his hips in a little more; he just wants to make sure he stays between your legs longer, your fingers entwining in his hair, treating him with a delicacy that he was denied a while ago.

But you don’t deny him in the slightest even if you’re ruined, glossy and teary eyes closed, your thighs trembling and covered on his urine; your pussy is filled to the brim with cum, but you still manage to smile at him: innocent, delusional, kind -- a phenomenon that only Kisaki Tetta himself can see, and nobody else.

And when his lips are on yours again, mumbling, “Mine, mine, mine,” incessantly, you majestically ignore the black gloves resting on the nightstand, your phone vibrating silently with the name of your best friend's mother on the screen.

a/n: i was going to make him pee in reader’s mouth but bitches were crying in the gc that i was nuts 🙄 don’t perceive me, i’m a full-time whore and this is not the last of piss kink you’ll see from me. next we got sanzu <3.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

tagging: @mitsery, @ryugamii, @lovebykai, @chloe-nanami, @cyancherub, @steponmiya, @taeminsbug, @sunshinedragonofthewest, @hisvillainess & @messofavs. as always, thanks for not letting me flop, my loves 💕😡 even if this is kisaki-centered.

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purrplemoon · 3 years

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[ 𝟏:𝟓𝟕 𝐀𝐌 ] — 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐀

it’s cold.

that’s the first thing kisaki thinks when he wakes up, eyebrows furrowing when the bed is empty and devoid of you and your usual warmth beside him. sitting up, he groans as he stretches his muscles out, hastily climbing out to find you. he tries to convince himself not to panic.

the bathroom lights are off—he notes all your things are thankfully still there—and so are the hallway lights, and so are the living room lights, but the kitchen seems to be lit. sighing, he walks in, watching from the entrance as you sit at the table, swirling a mug of tea around in your hands glumly.

“you should be in bed,” he says dryly. you don’t even blink, staring off ahead.

“what’s it to you?” you scowl. he grits his teeth, eyes narrowing as they stare down at you. it’s scrutinizing—everything seems to be when it comes to kisaki. he’s always got something to say, and it’s grown tiring for you.

“watch it,” he warns, making you roll your eyes. staring up at him, there’s a small pool of tears at the corner of your eyes, and his anger slowly ebbs away. for the first time, he takes in how hallow your eyes seem and how disappointed you are. and he feels himself fearing your withdrawal from him—the rejection seems unbearable if it comes from you.

“you go back to bed,” you wave off. “i’ll come in a bit.” you try to hide the shakiness of your voice, but he catches it immediately. and as scrutinizing as kisaki can be, as nit-picky to every detail as he can seem, as hard to please and even harder to decipher as he is, he’s always known exactly what you needed and exactly what to do.

“won’t be able to fall asleep,” he mutters quietly, sitting beside you at the table. he snatches your mug from your hand, taking a long sip of your tea.

“tetta, seriously?” you groan. his lips curl into a smirk, the mug meeting his lips again as he finishes the contents in one large gulp. you should kill him, you think, he’s gotten away with enough anyway.

but his smile is pretty, and the messy bed hair that frames his face is prettier. it makes you smile despite yourself.

“i see you grinning, dumbass,” he says cooly. “you’re not mad.” reaching over, you take the mug from him, giving his shoulder a good shove in the process. it’s halfhearted and it wouldn’t do anything, but he leans his body to the side anyway, his theatrics giving you the satisfaction of seeing him lose his balance slightly.

“i won’t forget the things you said to me,” you whisper. the words underneath are clear. they’ve left a scar. his heart cracks a little, and he wonders if you’ve realized you have the power to batter it until it’s weak. it wouldn’t be hard—one foot out the door and kisaki’s lost all that makes him a man, but he hopes it doesn’t come to that.

“they weren’t true,” he mumbles. “nothing i said was true.” his hair falls onto his eyes, and even though you’re mad, and hurt, and incredibly tired, you find it second nature to reach forward and brush the strands out of his face.

he immediately presses his own palm to the back of your hand, holding it in place and leaning his face into it. and it’s rare to see a small bit of vulnerability from kisaki, to see him so openly hint that he wants—that he needs an ounce of affection, but you know he craves it, and he’s lost without it on most days.

so, with a sigh, you brush your thumb over his cheek, shaking your head at how soft you are for him. loving him’s not easy, but perhaps that’s why you do it. the difficult tasks are always the most rewarding ones in the end.

“tetta—”

“baby,” he corrects. a small grin etches across your lips.

“how about gumdrop?”

“don’t push it,” he purses his lips, and you laugh. and it’s beautiful, he thinks, the soft glow of your face as the dimly lit kitchen illuminates your skin. your head thrown back in your laughing fit sends waves that crash over his heart. he’s casted away from everything else for a moment, all he can focus on being you. and he’s not mad, couldn’t ever be.

“okay, fine,” you agree. the smile on your face slowly falters, but his grip on your hand doesn’t. “baby, i’m just…i can’t deal with the things you say sometimes,” you whisper. “i’m not cut out for this,” you admit.

“you don’t have to be,” he soothes. “i’m working on it. i won’t say things like that anymore,” he promises. and it’s hard to tell if it’s the truth or not, but he sounds determined. and kisaki’s never given a reason not to believe him, he’s always gone great lengths to give you what he promises. so, with a shaky sigh, you lean into his embrace, hearing the beating of his heart in his chest. it’s the same heartbeat that soothes you to sleep each night and matches the rhythm of yours. he kisses the crown of your head, and nothing has ever made him feel as whole and seen and complete as the feel of your skin against his.

“promise?” you whisper.

“yeah, whatever. i promise,” he mumbles. pulling away, you cup his cheeks, taking in the sleep that’s still laced in his eyes, smiling gently at the sight. kissing his nose, then his cheeks, then finally, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips, you stroke your fingers through his hair as he leans into your palm.

“okay,” you nod. he glances at you expectantly. “what?”

“and…?”

“and…?” you tease.

“say it,” he glares. rolling your eyes, you hug his waist, feeling his hand rub over the small of your back.

“i love you,” you murmur. and with an equally as demanding tone, you add, “say it back.”

and it’s his turn to roll his eyes as he mumbles “i love you too.”

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