#Blue Peacock Dance | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shunsuiken · 3 months

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DON’T FORGET WHO’S TAKING YOU HOME (and in whose arms you’re gonna be).

pairing(s). kaeya, childe, ayato, kaveh, neuvillette x fem!reader

genre. fluff

wc. 200-400 for each character

an. AND SING WITH ME 🎤🎤 SO DARLING SAVE THE LAST DANCE FOR MEEE michael buble literally left no crumbs with this song i had to write about it omg + ALSO happy valentines day everyone !!! i may not have a valentine this year but im happy to post this for anybody feeling a little lonely today !! you are so so loved okay ?!!! come and collect a kiss from me before reading on 💋 MUAH have a lovely valentines day !!! <33

kaeya alberich

you’re really good at hiding, kaeya thinks to himself with a huff and a smile on his lips. searching all over the plaza for you was making him break a sweat in his navy blue tuxedo. with another turn around the corner he decides to remove his tuxedo jacket for the time being, folding it over his arm to carry instead.

“no, no, no klee! stop it! you can’t play with your things here, if you blow things up-”

“-master jean will put me in solitary confinement…”

oho, kaeya recognises these two voices very well. he finds it so hilarious that at the end, his feet lead him right to you! not even a single thought was processed as he turned the corner two seconds ago but here you are.

he hides behind the large potted plant, listening to the conversation you and the beloved spark knight share. he stays there until it becomes quiet between you two.

“kaeya, you peacock, i know it’s you.”

kaeya lets out a baffled noise, finally showing himself from behind the plant, offended by the ridiculous nickname you gave him. “snowflake, how dare you?”

“klee, don’t eavesdrop on people like this man when you grow older, yeah?” you point animatedly at your lover, who’s folding his arms and scoffing at you.

klee only giggles, nodding her head. “i gotta go find albedo now!” you watch as she skips off towards the plaza, waving goodbye.

you then turn towards your next problem that stands behind you. “i thought you were out dancing?”

“i was, but they’ll start playing the last dance soon and how can my last dance not be with you?” your lover walks towards you, pulling you closer by your waist with his free arm. you immediately wrap your arms around his neck, smiling softly at his intentions.

you hear an announcement echoing from the plaza before you can reply, and you figure it might have been mika because of how timid the voice sounded.

“good evening everyone, please bring all your friends and company over for the last dance of the night!”

“sounds like our queue.” you slide your arms off his shoulder to grab his hand, pulling him with you without warning.

“oh snowflake, hold on-” kaeya almost trips on air and the sounds of your laughter bounce off the concrete floor and walls as you drag him down the staircase leading to the plaza.

childe

you can never refuse ajax’s request for a dance, because he won’t take no for an answer. especially when it comes to dancing. your feet hurt so much. you’re so ready to just fall on top of your bed and go to sleep. but the only thing that keeps you wide awake, heart pumping and everything is the look on your lover's face.

his gaze usually has this inhumane and dull look to them, but you find that whenever he looks at you or when he participates in something he loves, his gaze finally twinkles. it works so miraculously too. like all of a sudden life was returned to him and he could see.

the smile on your lips grows when you think about this. you think it’s sweet how you’re one of the reasons that the life in his eyes returns.

ajax notices the tighter grip you hold on his forearm, making his lips curl in curiosity. “what’s going on in your head, baby?”

you zone in on the situation, you’re still dancing, and you shake your head in response. “nothing, ajax.” you want to keep your thoughts to yourself but when ajax smiles at you like that, with the most expectant look on his face, you can’t help yourself. “actually, i just thought about the dance.”

he twirls you around to the music before connecting arms with you again. “you just thought about the dance?” his brow quirks in amusement.

“no, no not like that,” you say with a sheepish chuckle before continuing, “i just thought that this number is the longest one so far.”

“well of course,” ajax responds with an eye smile. “it’s the last song.”

“it… is?” you look up at ajax while trying to fight the urge to look anywhere else.

if this is the last song… and you’re dancing with him… then that can only mean-

when the choreography allows ajax to pull you against his chest, he leans down so he can whisper in your ear, “you will be my final dance partner tonight.”

kamisato ayato

these few days at fontaine have been strumming the strings of your heart like a guitar—ayato has been spending so much time with you that you’re beginning to think of such ridiculous conclusions. his eyes that linger on your face, his hand that hovers on the small of your back when leading you out of a hall and it’s just these little things that he does with you that makes you want to claw an entire curtain off its rod. one time he even poured you a glass of wine before taking a sip with the same glass—it’s like he’s forgotten he’s the yashiro commissioner!

thoma and ayaka barely bat an eye. but also, they’ve known ayato for much longer than you have since you were a recent (and lovely) addition to the little family. so… perhaps this is just how he acts?

“uh-huh, when he’s courting someone that is.”

the sentence that thoma said offhandedly is the only thing that rings through your mind. but your thoughts must’ve shone through your expression because ayato is quick on his feet to smoothly guide you off the dance floor, gloved hand still holding yours as he brings you to a less crowded area—the balcony.

“you appeared to be distracted, that’s why i pulled us away,” ayato breaks the silence and your train of thoughts.

he’s still holding my hand—is what you’re repeating in your head. your eyes can barely focus on a single object within your field of vision. your bottom lip quivers at the revelation you’re carefully starting to uncover.

“i am not distracted,” you inhale sharply when you accidentally meet ayato’s gaze. “i…” your brows crease as you try to get words out of your mouth.

ayato brings your hand up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and you can physically feel the blood rush up to your fingertips. “would my lady like to return to the hotel?”

your voice leaves your throat in but a hoarse whisper, “what did you just call me?”

you hear a chuckle from ayato and it makes you snap your head around in embarrassment. this new term of endearment rolls off his tongue way too easily, the rascal must have been practicing!

“oh no, no, no, my lady, you must look at me,” a grin appears on ayato’s face at your attempts to hide your expression and when he finally gets you to look at him, you’re caged between his arms.

“why would you call me that?” you whine at his teasing.

“well i just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore,” ayato murmurs, a dust of pink decorating his cheeks. “will you allow me to call you that?”

kaveh

three hours. it’s been three hours since you and kaveh decided to learn a cute couples dance routine ‘for funsies’. whose idea was this again? weren’t you two supposed to be just friends? doesn’t kaveh have a client meeting tomorrow that he should be preparing for?

“so we do this—then this and then we’re supposed to oh—!”

the silence is deafening. the song playing in the background fades as you both stare at each other, even mirroring the same expression. eyes as wide as saucers. lips just inches from connection.

kaveh’s breath fans over your lips and you can hear the audible gulp he makes at the closeness. he’s also entirely aware that the red in his cheeks has reached his ears by now. while you, on the other hand, have started hearing the percussion of your heart in your own eardrums.

“o-oh…” your legs are frozen in place and hang on a second, why haven’t either of you let go?

his hand is respectfully sat on your waist, while the other is occupied holding your hand. you hear him inhale and it grabs your attention before you can get anymore lost in his gaze. his gaze observes your lovely face, eyes flickering from one feature to another as he whispers, “has anybody ever told you you’re pretty up close?”

you shake your head ever so slightly. “no.”

kaveh likes this answer, humming as he ponders for a moment.

your eyes sparkle when that handsome smile of his appears on his lips. he chuckles shortly at your expression, your palm feels so warm when connected with his.

“i’m glad i’m the first to tell you.”

neuvillette

“oh dear, neuvillette,” you chuckle softly, walking towards him as he takes another sip of his water. he stands in a more secluded corner of the hall, briefly greeting guests with a nod of the head. which is why he stands out like a sore thumb—arctic white hair, designer blue suit and a piercing gaze.

but that gaze doesn’t fool you. the dragon sovereign is probably pondering on retiring for the night and is only still present to keep up with appearances.

“yes, lady y/n?” it’s to nobody’s surprise that he heard you from metres away.

when he turns around, your eyes immediately land on the problem you’ve sensed since you returned from the dancefloor.

“your tie,” you reply, standing in front of his figure, nonchalantly raising your hands in preparation to adjust the garment. “will you allow me to fix it?”

the gears in neuvillette’s mind pause abruptly at your question. he certainly has no problem readjusting his own tie. his hands aren’t holding anything else other than his cup of water—which he can definitely put down on a nearby table!

but why can’t he bring himself to say no?

the ‘of course’ leaves his lips faster than he would have liked, but that’s no matter, your expression shows no sign of displeasure. instead, he watches your sweet smile brighten.

when your fingers reach the tie, neuvillette notices how you tiptoe to reach him. so he does what any normal person would do—he leans down.

it catches you off guard, the tips of your fingers just slightly grazing against his neck in the process. you profusely apologise in whispers to which neuvillette can only chuckle at.

“it is no trouble lady y/n, i appreciate the kind gesture.” the corner of neuvillette’s lips curve, his hands neatly tucked behind him as he allows you to redo his tie.

neuvillette’s lips only seem to further break into a smile as he watches you pat on the tie in completion.

“there, all finished.” you look up at the iudex, chuckling, “you ought to learn how to do this yourself.”

neuvillette hums, “perhaps you could teach me.” he takes your hand, gently brushing his lips against your knuckles before kissing it. “but for now a dance shall suffice, would you care to join me?”

#kaeya x reader #childe x reader #ayato x reader #kaveh x reader #neuvillette x reader #kaeya fluff #childe fluff #ayato fluff #kaveh fluff #neuvillette fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff

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darksilvania · 6 months

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PRAWNIARD [Pawniard + Prawn] Water/Fighting The Shrimp Pokemon Abilities: Moxie/Hyper Cutter - Tough Claws (HA) Dex: "They patrol the ocean floor in small gangs, comprised of several PRAWNIARDS and a single EBISHARP, very similar to its surface counterparts. Their pincers are extremely sharp, even when closed, resembling blades, but what makes them specially dangerous is the speed with wich they use them. PRAWNIARDs are know for constantly training the speed of they slashes, until they claws become faster than the eye can see.” Moveset: -Karate Chop -Jet Punch -Fury Cutter -Sword Dance

EBISHARP [Bisharp + Ebi (Shrimp in Japanese)] Water/Fighting The Pistol Shrimp Pokemon ->Evolves from PRAWNIARD after learning BOILING HOOK<- Abilities: Moxie/Hyper Cutter - Tough Claws (HA) Dex: "It leads a squad of PRAWNIARDs and controls a small territory under the command of a powerful KINGAMBA Its claws can deliver blows at speeds above the speed of sound, this punches are so fast they make the water around them boil.” Moveset: -Boiling Hook: Fighting type / pwr 90 / acc 95 / pp 10 “The user launches a punch at such a speed the water around its fist boils up.” -This might leave the opponent burn -This move power is boosted against water type pokemon or if it is raining -Razor Shell -Aqua Cutter -Soak

KINGAMBA [Kingambit + Gamba (Shrimp in Spanish)] Water/Fighting The Mantis Shrimp Pokemon ->Evolves from EBISHARP after defeating 5 wild EBISHARP using BOILING HOOK<- Abilities: Moxie/Hyper Cutter - Tough Claws (HA) Dex: "It controls a large territory under the ocean, with many EBISHARPs as its lieutenants, each one commanding a squard of PRAWNIARDs" It vibrates its claws with such speed they become searing hot. Being hit with them is said to feel as being hit with a hot branding iron. They use this burning pincers to mark its lieutenants.” Moveset: -Boiling Hook -Crab Hammer -Cross Chop -Guillotine

Finally finished my convergent Pawniard line, I think I made them at the begining of the year but Im just getting to finishing things by now

PRAWNIARD is based on a Velvet Blue Shrimp

EBISHARP is based on a Bullseye Pistol Shrimp

KINGAMBA is based on a Peacock Mantis Shrimp

#pokemon #fakemon #fake pokemon #convergent forms #convergent fakemon #pawniard #bisharp #kingamba #shrimp #pistol shrimp #mantis shrimp #water type #water fakemon #water pokemon #fighting type #fighting pokemon #fighting fakemon

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months

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Lilia, Epel: Blessing Givers, Curse Breaker

Lilia’s vignettes continue to be gold! He “humble” brags about how his voice is great, he’s sooo adorable, and such an ikemen… (Apparently he realized he was cute because people would give him free stuff and help on his travels and when he first came to NRC!) Best part was definitely when Lilia described cooking for his dorm members and they were “so touched” that they bowed their heads, covered their faces, and/or cried 💀 NOT THEM PUTTING A PICTURE OF MALEFICENT DRAGON FORM ON LILIA'S BIRTHDAY CARD… His vignettes also mention having the strength to overcome “a curse” 😭 Cruel reminders of the tragedy that unfolded in his past, and bis unfulfilled search for a cure for Silver... TWST devs, you sickos/j

A Tale as Old as Time.

Three fairies crowded around a cradle, its curtained hood up to obscure the infant within. Green, pink, blue—each was dressed in a particular color. They glanced at the baby and at each other, mouths agape to discuss their blessings.

Safeguarded within the platinum frame was a celebration of life and a future yet to be told. The fragile start of a brand new story.

Lilia wanted to protect it himself.

“Looks like some fancy shindig.” The remark came from Epel, who gazed upon the same painting. "Erm... I mean, party. That is what it is, right...?"

"They've come to bestow gifts upon a newborn princess. Royal affairs can be a bit stiff, I'm afraid. Can't even show up to one without an invitation! Some hosts are just sticklers for tradition and protocol."

"Oh, I got it!" Epel visibly perked, cheeks appling with pink. "It's a different kind of gathering. Back home in Harveston, they're a lot more informal. Family and all the neighbors coming by with plates of warm food, a makeshift band and folks dancing, catching up by the fire... It's so lively."

Lilia’s lip curled, the corners lifting into a slight smile. "It's good to know that your hometown hasn't lost its charm."

"You've visited before?"

"Once, long ago," the ancient fae chuckled, "when I was still a stubborn and stony-faced youth. The people of Harveston opened their hearts and offered hospitality. From what you've told me, it's clear that the very same spirit from then persists to this day."

"Gosh, really?" Epel puffed up at that, as though he were a peacock flaunting his feathers. "Hehe, wellll, Harveston does have a way of makin' ya feel cozy and right at home, even if yer far away from it!"

"That it does." Lilia's eyes traced the wall of artwork before him. The colors, shapes, and textures. "Twisted Wonderland is so vast and diverse. I've traveled far and wide, experienced a great deal of cultures, yet I always find myself anchored to that one special place called home. There is no comfort like it."

There’s no place like home.

A twinge pulsated in his chest. The pain, marring the nostalgic warmth he bathed in. Lilia did not let it show—not to his underclassman, not this child that stared at him with such eagerness.

He swallowed.

“How do you celebrate in Briar Valley?” Epel asked. “Can you tell me about your traditions too?”

“Kufufu. You’re keen on learning, I see.”

“I didn’t always. I’m sure if you asked Vil, he’d give you a mouthful about how ‘uppity’ and ‘full of myself’ I was at first.” Epel groaned at the thought of another lecture from his dorm leader. “… But recently, I’ve been thinkin’ it’s not too bad to hear about how others experience everything.

“Meemaw—my grandma—goes to the city to sell our farm’s produce. She has to switch up how she talks to speak to the locals. I noticed our mayor too, when he talks to tourists. So learning about new people and cultures can’t be a bad thing.”

Epel’s eyes were wide, sparkling with wanderlust. Wistful and longing for the world that awaited him.

Perhaps Lilia had worn the same expression before, at the moment of his epiphany. When had he realized it? When the elderly couple had draped a blanket over him, when they shared a meal, when they spun him the stories of their lives, or when he sat at the cradle and relived those times to a still dormant Malleus?

The warmth in him expanded, like a gulp of soup trickling down his throat, then splashing in his stomach. It had been a humble broth of vegetables, and yet it satisfied him down to the last drop.

“We’re really not so different,” Lilia explained with a grin. “Food and friends are all you need to have a good time wherever you are.

“However, if you are particularly fortunate, you just may have a guardian fairy descend and give you blessings as well.” He indicated the painting of the three fairies hovering over a cradle. “Like so. I believe this infant was gifted with song, beauty, and…”

“Song and beauty?!” Epel’s expression crinkled. “Who decided on those, the parents?”

“The guardian fairies themselves. They choose what they believe will bring the blessed child happiness.”

“They could’ve given the kid something more…” Epel vaguely waved a hand. “I don’t know, useful? Why not strength so they won’t lose any fights? I’d be happy with some more muscle of my own…”

Lilia laughed, soft and low like a midnight whisper. “Why not indeed.”

Because time steals away everything eventually, hissed a voice in his head. The truth, bare and bitter.

The edges of Lilia’s vision quivered. A memory resurfaced—blink, and he saw himself in the frame, his long shadow cast over the crib. Blink, and that was Silver nestled in the fabric. Blink, and the castle was abandoned and covered in thorns.

A fairy robbing a crib of its cursed child.

“Strength is good to have,” Lilia said slowly, “but it will not last forever. Not many things do.”

Still… If I could have one wish, it would be…

The only force able to break the spell set upon Silver. The one feeling he was certain he was incapable of. A love so pure and honest, it was known to be true.

Something he wasn’t worthy of.

True love.

Not him. Not the grimy, low-born bat of a dubious past—as his most unkind of thoughts would insist.

He was the same as them. He had condemned Silver to walking in the night, had made the decision for him. The instant his hair had turned from pale sunshine to the moonlight of his namesake, it was too late to unwind the clock.

Which had he cast—blessing or curse?

The longer he looked at the painting, the more mocking the gentle, rounded faces of the guardian fairies seemed to become. Guiltless, oblivious beings, they were.

They would never know of his plight.

Lilia scoffed. “If the fairies wanted the child to be happy, they should have granted them that strength.”

That which was impossible for him.

"The power to overcome a curse.”

"... The power to overcome a curse, huh?" Epel quietly mused. "Not even Vil-senpai has that kind of strength--and his unique magic is to cast curses! Until the conditions are fulfilled, it can't be broken."

"That's the trouble with curses," Lilia agreed. "They're finicky, depending on how they're woven. Some may even last a lifetime without ever being lifted. Others may spend their own lives seeking out cures."

The story of his life. He was always searching for something, something, something. Lost friends, how to hatch a dragon's egg, true love to dispel drowsiness.

Now, a happy ending.

Lilia released a sigh through his nose.

If only.

"Well, if magic can't make that wish come true... we'll just have to make it a reality ourselves, won't we?"

#twst #twisted wonderland #Lilia Vanrouge #twst imagines #twst scenarios #Epel Felmier #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #spoilers #something no one asked for #Lilia birthday takeover #the title is a reference to an Equestria Girls song www

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southasiansource · 11 months

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REKHA for VOGUE: ARABIA

my person is my own, but my cinematic persona is in the eyes of the beholder. therefore i choose where i want to be and where i don’t want to be. i am so blessed to have earned the right to choose what i love. and to have the luxury to simply say no. (x)

[Image ID: ten photos of Rekha in various outfits from a photoshoot by Vogue Arabia. The outfits are provided by Manish Malhotra and the photos are taken by Tarun Khiwal:

IMAGE 1: A shot of Rekha looking off-camera through a mirror. Her reflection is in focus, her real image slightly blurred. She is wearing a dress inspired by a peacock's feathers.

IMAGE 2: Rekha standing wearing a long silk kurta with a zardozi dupatta draped around her like a sari. She is wearing heavy jewelry.

IMAGE 3: A close-up of Rekha's expression, wearing a dupatta on her head as she gives the camera an intense look.

IMAGE 4: Rekha caught mid-spin as she dances in her anarkali dress, dupatta flaring out behind her.

IMAGE 5: Rekha wearing a long brocade jacket with heavy embroidery. She's wearing a tall Mughal-inspired headgear, and her hands are propped on her waist.

IMAGE 6: Rekha watching the camera with her hands flat on her hips, wearing a long red-velvet dress. She is wearing a red velvet peshwa turban to match.

IMAGE 7: Rekha leaning back on a stool to stare above camera, wearing a black jacket and a Farsi skirt. A small veil covers her face. Her hands are adorned with gold embellishments.

IMAGE 8: Same outfit as the previous image, but Rekha is standing, looking towards her shoes.

IMAGE 9: Rekha wearing a striped jacket and pants. The jacket has huge puffy forearm sleeves. She's wearing a hat with a slight veil, peering through the lace at the camera.

IMAGE 10: The peacock dress, but this time shown in full. She is wearing a gold kaftan with blue "scales" on the shoulders and arms. She's also clad in heavy jewelry.

/end ID]

#rekha #bollywood #dailybollywoodqueens #womenofcolor #dailywomen #flawlessbeautyqueens #flawlesscelebs #desi aesthetic #desi fashion #femalestunning #thequeensofbeauty #wonderfulwomendaily #userladiesofcinema #glamoroussource #femaledaily #dailywoc #photoshoots #ours #by zee

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wearyeyebrow · 1 year

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Worthy In Blue

Summary: You’ve been working on a little surprise project for Lucifer involving navy blue rope and a mahogany chair. You know Lucifer has a penchant for ropework, so what if you gave him an evening to put those skills, and your own, to good use?

Tags under the cut.

Tags: submissive lucifer, dominant MC, rope, restraints, MC is in rope, Lucifer is restrained, pegging, cunnilingus, gn MC, afab MC, mutual possessiveness, romance, established relationship, pre-nightbringer

Tonight is the long awaited Grimte Banquet where all the noble houses gather. Relationships are maintained, new ones started, and it’s all Lucifer can do to keep his brothers in line. Luckily, he has you to keep Mammon by your side and Beel full of food.

The night drones on spent managing many noble advances. He spares you a weary glance and you wink at him from across the hall. He can’t help the quirk of his mouth, a slight smile amidst everything. You’re impossibly charming.

A few moments later and he hears your voice in his ear. “Meet me in the coat room, I have something to show you.”

You slip away and disappear somewhere in the crowd. Eventually he manages a moment alone, horribly curious as he finds his way to you.

You close the door behind him, nearly hidden amidst coats of all sizes. “Hi gorgeous,” you wrap your arms around his waist.

"A coat closet?" He muses.

“I won’t keep you. Pretty sure Beel is looking for me too… Here.” You hold up your phone, “What do you think?”

You’re showing him a picture of… rope? “This is what you wanted to show me?”

“I could hardly send it to your phone right now, what with the entire royal court surrounding you. Plus, I’d rather explain its implications in person.”

“Implications?”

“Mm. Are you free next Friday night? Around 10pm?”

“I…” he allows himself a small smile, “I might be able to spare you some time.”

“Oh might you?” You smirk, “Well, if you’re too busy I completely understand. I’m capable of appreciating my own hard work.”

He acts affronted, grabbing you by the waist and kissing your hand. “Would a willing participant not please you more?”

“Isn’t that why I asked you in the first place?” He’s captivated by the crinkle of your nose, by the warmth of your smile.

“You’ve caught me,” he chuckles, “I’m all yours.”

“Then it’s a date. Do you like the color?”

You show him your phone again and he hums appreciatively. "Did you get it from Cloven Boutique? I didn’t think they stocked colored rope."

“They don’t, I dyed it myself."

“Truly?” He looks closer, in want of his glasses. “It looks like a professional job."

"Well, I had to get the color just right - I love the look of you in blue."

"Oh?" His tone softens.

“Mhm…” You appreciatively sweep your eyes up his body, lingering the gold peacock tie-clip you got him last month. You reach out and adjust his collar, “I love seeing you in things I’ve bought.”

“You have good taste.”

“Do you really think so?”

He frowns. “I wouldn’t wear something if it didn’t suit me.”

You laugh, “I know, I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“You’re horrible.”

“I’m charming.”

He fondly rolls his eyes. “I suppose both descriptors are accurate. I will look forward to it all week.”

“I think it’ll be worth the wait.” You lean up and brush your lips against his, “Don’t dance with too many nobles now.”

“Haven’t you noticed? All eyes are on you tonight. It’s taken everything in me not to whisk you away.”

“Likewise, darling.” You wink at him again and his heart certainly doesn’t flutter.

Lucifer knocks on your closed door, waiting for you to beckon him inside.

The first thing he notices is an old mahogany chair in the middle of your room, stolen from the hallway. It sits odd against your comfortable furniture.

You make a show of locking your door, brushing against his shoulder as you pass by. Then you cast a noise canceling spell - nothing but an emergency could disturb you now.

When you meet his eyes you're delighted by his wanting expression, unguarded and open in his desire. "I wonder…" you walk over to him, "how much you've thought about this night, curious about what I've planned?" You straighten his tie, close enough to see him swallow.

"It has been on my mind." He takes your hand in his own and kisses your knuckles, looking every part adoring.

You chuckle fondly, "Especially in the evenings, when you think of me?"

His cheeks heat up but his gaze is steady. “I won’t deny it."

“Honesty suits you." He goes in for a kiss just as you pull away. "I want to show you something."

He makes a curious sound and you leave him to open your dresser drawer. "Now, you knew I'd be using rope tonight, but for what exactly I didn't tell you." You gather the rope in your arms, "It might not seem like much of a deviation."

"Oh?" He eyes the rope you've picked.

"You still like it?"

He turns the rope over in his hands, "It’s richer than I remember. How did you do it?"

"Blue mangled beetles - kind of like carmine, but the process is simpler. When dried and crushed they make a beautiful dark navy dye that doesn’t bleed."

"You did your research."

You chuckle and take the rope from his hands. "Only the best for you. Gloves off."

He slips off his right leather glove, finger by finger - wait. “Blue?” You look at him inquisitively. His nails are a rich navy blue, perfectly manicured and glossy.

His eyes flicker behind you, cheeks dusting pink. “I painted them a few days ago.”

You're confused for a minute, then it hits you. “Wait - because of me?”

His voice drops, “You - you mentioned-" He clears his throat, "I thought you might like them.”

"I love them, Lucifer…" You kiss his knuckles, his palm, his wrist, before pulling him in for a proper kiss. His hand cups your jaw and he makes a small, plaintive sound. He really had been thinking about your words all this time.

You pull away with reluctance. "It's time I tell you what we’ll be doing tonight. Shall we start the scene?"

He clears his throat again and sweeps his own magic over your door. "Let us begin."

"Any titles are allowed tonight, you can address me however you’d like. Red to stop the act, yellow to pause, and green for all good. Fire if you want to stop the scene entirely."

"Understood.”

“Then…" the glint in your eyes makes him a little weak in the knees. "I know you have a penchant for ropework. And I know how much you enjoy earning my praise. So, I had a thought - tonight I’d like you to use your ropework skills and tie me up, but I want full range of motion, you know, a design strictly for aesthetics.” You pull the rope taught in your hands, “And then, if you do a good enough job, I may reward you with some rope of my own. What do you say?” You hold out the rope to him.

You smile and oblige, settling into the cold wooden seat. He eyes you and then the rope, contemplative, before loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves. He circles you, and you admire the focused, pointed look on his face as he carefully plans an intricate design in his mind’s eye. He’s completely in his element and you love to watch him work.

“What an intriguing idea...” He takes the rope from your hands with soft reverence, feeling the rough texture between his fingers. “You really got such a nice shine to it,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. He breathes out slowly and gestures to the mahogany chair, “Please dear, relax.”

“Ah,’ you suddenly realize, “This might help.” You lift up your shirt and drop it next to the chair before shimmying out of your bottoms, leaving you bare before him.

“Yes…” he murmurs as his eyes roam your skin.

You feel a pleasant tingle up your spine when he brushes his fingers through your hair, gently gathering until he can put it up properly above your neckline. Your body relaxes under his touch.

The first knot is an anchor tie just below your bust, he uses four strands and divides them into two, slipping each half over your shoulders and back down to meet your back. The rough texture warms you from the outside in but his careful touch is cool against your skin.

You watch him as he works, loving the interplay of shadow that falls across his sharp features. He catches you staring.

“Am I pleasing to look at, Madam?”

“Yes, very much so.”

Your pact mark sings and you chuckle, bemused at the sensation. “You like it when I compliment you, don’t you, my little black bird?”

His cheeks heat up and his eyebrows furrow, as he’s put off by the pet name, but the humming in your chest only continues. “I can feel it, you know? Honesty really does suit you best - your face is much prettier wearing it.”

The tips of his ears turn pink but he circles you, wrapping his arms around your midsection to finish fixing a knot in place. Suddenly his warm lips press into the crook of your shoulder. The deep undertones of his voice make you shiver as he whispers in your ear. “You will be the death of me.”

You turn to meet his eyes, coy mischief in your own. “I think you’ll survive.” He chuckles and you kiss him once, twice, just to make him simmer. He almost goes back in for a third but you brush your thumb over his bottom lip. “Not yet.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He kisses your shoulder once more.

Time passes in a lovely, hazy sort of way. Lucifer relaxes into the process as you'd hoped he would. It’s a gentle sort of focus where his mind is set on something, a place where nothing else can bother him or tear away his careful attention. He loves taking your direction, easing him out of his mind, constantly wound too tight.

Finally he kneels to finish the job, gingerly maneuvering one of your legs up and over his shoulder to wrap a strand around the back of your thigh. His eyes wander this time, following the line of your body until he lingers between your legs. As if he can’t help himself he kisses your skin, leaving a delicate trail up the inside of your thigh.

You cup his jaw in one hand and he kisses your palm, eyeing between your legs. “After you finish,” you murmur, “You’ll have to earn what you get tonight.” His eyes flicker to yours and he continues moving, finishing the tie he started.

“I believe I’m finished, will you stand?”

You do so, feeling the bend and flex of rope. Nothing feels too tight, everything is snug, hugging the curves of your body. You admire what lacing you can see, particularly the delicate design around your hands and wrists. He truly had taken his time, a glance at the clock proves that an hour has passed.

Finally you turn around and examine his work in the mirror. Your eyes light up at his intricate ropework. You’re beautiful, elegant, fully mobile and yet covered in faux restraints. You admire yourself, making a show of your appreciation. His chest puffs out and the pact mark on your chest rumbles. You gently circle your clit with one finger and enjoy how he shifts uncomfortably behind you.

You want more from him. Your body aches from an hour of foreplay.

You cup his jaw with one hand. “Kneel.”

“Yes Sir,” he murmurs, almost breathless.

His willing, almost eager demonstration of your power over him, of his own lack of control, further spurns you on, and you know he can hold your weight.

"Show me, then, devotion to your work." You prop one leg up on the hard mahogany seat, exposing yourself for him. Rope hugs your thighs, indenting and highlighting what he wants most.

His eyes flicker between your face and your clit. He licks his lips. "Thank you, Sir."

You run a hand through his hair and brace the other on the back of the chair. As soon as his tongue touches your clit you gasp, unable to help yourself. You’ve been on edge for so long now, throbbing at every new rope and delicate detail. You savor his mouth, rocking your hips into his face gently. "Yes…" he sucks and licks as you drip onto his tongue and he moans softly at the gentle tug of your hand in his hair.

You'll come quickly and you know it - you rock against him faster now and he wraps his fingers through the ropes on the back of your thigh before squeezing your ass and petting between your legs.

You look down at him, at his disheveled appearance, tousled hair, and too-tight pants. “Lucifer, darling, you - ah - you don’t have to say anything, no thoughts, no control, just take what I give you."

He groans and claws at the backs of your thighs, pulling you forward against his mouth.

You tilt your head back. "Good man, good job-" he whines and flicks his tongue with renewed vigor, "fffuck, right there…"

You fuck his face, shivering and shaking, chasing your orgasm. He holds you upright and supports your body, grasping at his own ropework. You moan and twitch. A glance at the mirror brings you closer still, “Look baby, look at you, making me feel so fucking good… shit-” Your grip on his hair tightens as you twist your hand, pulling him forward. He moans, high and breathy, harshly breathing through his nose.

His right hand supports your waist while his left squeezes your ass. Just a minute more, a second more, finally, finally his palpable desire sends you over the edge, and god how it fills the air. He takes it all and you don't fall, even as your legs lock and your grip falters. You shake and shiver in his tight grasp, palms holding tight to his shoulders. He keeps licking, just enough to keep you there until tension dissipates and you’re overstimulated. Only then does his grip loosen, following your body as you stand on your own, knees shaking.

There's an unspoken tenderness in his eyes - your baby takes pride in service.

You step away from him when you can, fixing his hair and cleaning your cum from his lips. "Sit on the chair, darling."

His knees crack when he gets up, stiff from his place on the hardwood floor. He sits, bulge straining against his trousers, watching you with rapt attention.

"I think…" you turn around, "You've more than earned your reward - as if there was any doubt in my mind."

“Oh?” He practically glows at your praise.

"And…” you walk over to your nightstand once more, "I'm not done with this yet." He swallows, gaze fixated on the rope in your hands. You smirk, "You like that idea?"

He shifts again. "Yes I - very much."

You reach into your nightstand and pull out a matte black silicone dildo, smaller, elegant even. You hold it up. “What about this? Are you up for it tonight?”

“Yes,” he nods, “I prepared myself for the possibility.”

“Perfect,“ you breathe, already excited. “Then…” your smile is nearly wicked as you regard him and his cock throbs in earnest. “Clothes off. Hands behind your back - hold your forearms.”

He acquiesces, knowing exactly what you want.

Soon he’s sitting naked on the chair, hands held behind his back, willingly at your mercy. Your ties aren’t nearly as elegant, but they restrict his movement and hug his body. You restrain his arms behind his back with a chest harness, carefully distributing the weight of the rope, adding just a touch of flourish. Even in such a simple design he looks lovely. Blue really is his color, you think, admiring him. He catches your eye.

“I was right,” you say, tilting his chin up for a chaste peck on the lips, “You look lovely in blue.” He groans and chases your lips this time. You let him, just once, and deepen the kiss yourself, before grabbing him by the hair, wrenching his head up. “Not yet, darling.”

“As you wish.” He’s breathless and kiss bitten.

You leave him and stack two large pillows on top of each other. You motion for him to stand before grabbing him by the restraints. “I will help you get into position,” you chuckle darkly, “I want you face down.”

His cheeks feel hot but he nods, “Yes Sir.”

“Good man. Lie down.”

It takes a moment since he can’t move his arms but you finally have him exactly where you want him, chest pushed into the bed, hips and ass raised by the pillows beneath him.

He tilts his head to look at you with one eye, eyebrow raised as you appear with more rope.

‘Can’t have you squirming too much, now can I?” He groans into the pillow beneath him and nods.

“Tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable or need to readjust, this position might get tiring after awhile.”

“I’m sure I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can, but I’m not asking. Tell me.”

He shivers. “Yes Ma’am.”

“Good.”

You uncap the lube on your nightstand and snap a glove on. He shivers at the cold feeling of your lubed finger rubbing against him, but as your hand warms so does his body and he slowly starts to meet your gentle thrusts as you enter him. You love this part. It’s incredibly intimate, almost more so that the ensuing sex, because anyone else would have been thrown out long ago - he has only ever done this with you.

Once you’re up to two fingers comfortably you withdraw your hand and replace it with your lubed up strap. “Ready?”

“I’ve been ready.” You smack his ass and he gasps.

“What was that?”

“I apologize, yes I - I’m ready.”

“That’s better. One more remark like that,” you murmur, pressing in slowly, “And I’ll rethink your reward.”

He hisses, wiggling his hips, “A-Apologies - it won’t happen again.”

‘I know it won’t,” you smile, “because you love this too much.” Finally, finally you move your hips, slow at first, until finding a gentle rhythm. You use his bound legs as leverage, pushing deep inside of him as his low, desperate moans fill the air.

As his body strains against the rope it holds tight, digging into his skin - this heat, this pleasure, your power over him is dizzying. For a few blissful moments he can’t think, all he can do is feel you surround him and hear your haunting voice in his ear.

It is easy to admire him, Lucifer Morningstar splayed out before you, rocking his ass into your hips, wanting more, more. You grab the rope holding his forearms tight against his back and pull, arching his back against the sheets. He cries out, and you lean down, pushing all your weight on top of him.

“That feel good, baby? Heh, you love it don’t you?” Your hips are slow and deep, grinding on his favorite spot, “You love being fucked like this. Wrapped in my rope, under my hand-” He moans, long and debauched. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this, you belong to me, don’t you?”

“Yes-!”

You’re breathless above him. “We belong to each other, right, love?”

His eyes open and he gazes at you in the adjacent mirror, “Yes…” You dip and kiss the back of his neck, soft and sweet, "Hnn…" he takes in a shuddering breath and lets his head fall forward.

“That's right, no one else deserves to touch you, no one else is good enough, worthy enough.” You whisper in his ear.

He gasps your name and pushes his ass against your hips, pathetically fucking himself on your strap. Every slap of your skin sears welts into his body. You grab his hair and jerk his body up.

“Eyes open, look at yourself.” He didn’t think he could get any redder, but the sight of you behind him, fucking his ass with slow purposeful thrusts, restraining him while tied in his own ropework, it's too much, he can’t - he’ll -

You wrench his head up, “Keep looking,” you pant, “look at the face you make when you come for me.”

He can’t help it, he comes fast and hot, hips stuttering, mouth open and gasping. You slow but you don’t stop. He whimpers but dutifully stays, taking it all.

“Good man,” you praise him, “So. Fucking. Good-” you punctuate your words by digging your nails into his back. You slowly drag them downward and tiny specks of blood bubble to the surface. He hisses but his cock jumps beneath him. “You like a little pain, don’t you?” You slap his ass with an open palm. “Answer me.”

“Yes, yes Ma’am -”

“Yes what?”

"Fuck - more, please-!”

“Filthy.” You bite, before indulging him with another slap on the ass.

You run your nails gently over the welts and he sighs in bliss. In this moment of calm you use all your strength to hoist him upward again, until his back is flush against your chest. You wrap a hand around his throat and start to bounce him on your cock. His eyes roll back and he groans, reaching around to grab your hip as he rocks back into you.

“When I cut you loose,” you pant, “I want you to lie down on your back, legs spread, waiting and ready for me again. Do you understand me?”

He swallows breathlessly and nods.

You lean him forward and gently pull out. You untie his legs, and then his arms before dropping the rope next to the bed. His body is tinged red with slight rope burn, just how he likes.

He rolls over onto his back, finally making eye contact with you. You smile at him, gentle, and his pupils pin. “Spread your legs for me.”

Lucifer grabs his own knees, and spreads his legs while you refuse to let him lose eye contact. His red flush is delicious, and so is his twitching cock, clearly enjoying this.

You grab more lube from the nightstand and quickly reapply before holding one of his legs to your chest and slipping back inside. He groans and rocks his hips forward, savoring the feeling.

You slowly snap your hips forward, reaching deep inside him, you keep repositioning until he gasps and then you hold there. Little thrusts of your hips grinding against his ass. He gasps low, moaning sweetly in his deep voice as sweat trickles down his temple.

“Kiss me-” he croaks, reaching for you. You melt into him and grind against him as his hands roam your body. He doesn’t realize he’s whimpering and shuddering, or if he does he doesn’t care.

You continue like this for a while, enjoying his gasping deep moans in your ear, his lips and teeth on your neck. Finally, at your mercy, you gently trace your fingers over the head of his cock. The noise he makes is agonizing, and you have half a mind to continue neglecting him. But he has your heart as you keep up that gentle, light contact, and he doesn’t ask for more. His head is spinning, filled with thoughts of you, you, just you.

You speed up your hand as your hips get tired and he grips your back, rocking into you. Finally you feel him tense, feel his blunt nails dig into your back.

“There you go, my pretty bird,”

He gasps, light and beautiful, shuddering as he comes, keening as each slow, deep thrust of your hips milks another dribble of cum out of him.

You kiss again and again, covered in sweat, cum, and specks of blood, ignoring the passage of time.

Darkness blankets your bedroom, barely lit in deep navy shadow. Your fingernails fall up and down rhythmically over the rope burn on Lucifer’s back.

“I heard you were approached last week.” He murmurs.

“At the Banquet…? Oh, did Asmo say something?”

Lucifer chuckles, "He said something akin to "Everyone here is itching for their chance, don't let them out of your sight."

You feign exasperation. "And what did you do, you let me out of your sight. Now I'm in bed with a demon."

Lucifer snorts, "The very same demon you propositioned in a coat closet."

"What can I say? I know who I want," you kiss his temple.

Lucifer leans into you further, draped across your body. "Don't you have plans early tomorrow morning?"

“You yawn again, “Solomon said he has something important to talk to me about. What exactly, I’m not sure… he can wait until I've had breakfast.”

“That sorcerer…”

“He wants you so bad,” you chuckle, “I mean, it isn’t up to me, but I enjoy acting as if it is.”

“Rest assured,” he kisses your shoulder, “he’ll never have me, not like you do.”

Your smile is gentle. “I love you, Luci.”

“And I you.”

Lucifer closes his eyes and relaxes his sore body, satisfied and calm. He resolves to make you breakfast in the morning before seeing you off to Solomon.

Truly, he thinks, there's nothing he can’t face as long as you’re there when he wakes.

#lucifer obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me smut #sub lucifer #dom mc #my writing #wearyeyebrow #teeny tiny bit of nightbringer angst at the end #dom!reader #sub!lucifer #sub obey me

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decimalpointed · 2 years

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Steddie Soulmate Mark AU Prompt(w/ trans Eddie)

I want one of those soulmate AUs where people have like moving animal tattoos to represent their other half. They start off as baby animals and grow as their soulmate grows. And their tattoos are able to move onto their soulmates skin through touch and thats why shaking hands is important to tell if the animal will go onto the others skin.

And Steve is born and he thinks he has this little black snake that is his soulmate. Its cute and loves to dance along his shoulders and curl around his neck like a necklace. His parents tell him that snakes mean his soulmate is gonna be a little ruthless, a little cold blooded, but a lot determined.

As he reaches puberty though the snake unfurls and low and behold is actually a little wyvern dragon that has kept its wings and legs curled tight to its body through adolescence. It's horns start to grow into a beautiful curled crown on its head and it's scales remain all black except on the underside of its wings where there are spatterings of white, pink, and blue scales that look like stars against the dark.

But mythical creature marks come with a lot of superstitious belief like his soulmate will be crazy or a murderer or something along those lines. That his soulmate just isn't right.

His parents are pissed when they see it, and tell him he is better off without his soulmate because people represented by fantasy creatures are just going to be trouble for him.

And so Steve sleeps around and becomes a king among teenagers but he still secretly loves his little dragon. Knows his soulmate is beautiful and majestic and ignores when anyone jeers at him that he has a some crazy girl out there waiting for him in an asylum.

His dragon likes to show off and be seen, no matter how much he gets teased for having it, and will splay out on his chest with wings spread to preen any time he has his shirt off. The dragon likes to puff fire and smoke out whenever his soulmate is angry, and will curl around his heart when his soulmate is sad. Steve loves his dragon and even though they have a bad reputation, the other kids love it because its different.

When he learns monsters are very much real, he thinks that if someone is really bad then their mark would surely be a demagorgon. Ugly and vile and terrifying. It solidifies in his mind that his dragon can't possibly be what all the books say.

He thinks for sure Nancy has to be his dragon. She's fiery, determined, beautiful. She's not and the little bird she has won't go onto his skin and his dragon wants nothing to do with Nancy in turn. He is disappointed but falls in love with her all the same. His heart still gets broken when she tells him its all bullshit.

He thinks Robin too might be his dragon. She's smart, funny, playful. But then Russians drug them and she's sure as hell not into men when she shows him her own mark which is very clearly a female lion. He gets a Best friend and she tells him that she thinks his dragon is beautiful and so the person it belongs to has a beautiful soul.

But then Steve gets to thinking, because he's never seen someone with an animal so clearly the same gender as they are like Robin and her lioness. Hes only ever known people around him with the opposite like Carol and her male peacock for Tommy. He doesn't even know how to tell if his dragon is a boy or a girl and that confuses him more because he never even thought to look at boys and try to imagine them as his dragon. Wonders if maybe he should start.

Then In a boathouse scared for his life and with a bottle pressed against his throat, his beautiful dragon curls around his neck and then slides so easily across his skin onto Eddie Munsons hand.

Turns out his dragon doesn't mean anything bad or awful, it just means Eddie wasn't really born in the right body but his soul is represented just the way it was supposed to be. Magical and loud and beautiful.

Steve's soul animal could be whatever but I always figured he would be like a golden retriever. Because I mean. Look at that boy. And Eddie would be so confused that he got just such an ordinary animal because there's no way he would ever end up with a golden retriever boyfriend right?

#stranger things #fanfic prompt #steve harrington #writing prompt #eddie munson #steddie

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cod-imagines-fanfiction · 7 months

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Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend part 5 (2k words)

Summary: Alejandro and Valeria face off.

TW: Violence Link to A03 Link to part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

“Liar!” Valeria screamed as she lunged at Alejandro with her blade. The hilt shone where the light caught it and Valeria glowed with the silver lustre of the weapon beneath her. In battle, she glistened like an unforgiving, merciless god. She aimed for his neck, she would make him bleed and regret ever looking at her wife in the base way that he regarded her. It never occurred to her that he would ever place his hands on her, and the mere thought sent Valeria into a frenzy. Her wife, defiled by the likes of Alejandro; a man touching her wife, her goddess. The woman who was so beautiful that Valeria could kiss the earth she walked on. It was unthinkable – it was untrue! Y/N would never submit herself to that, she did not have those sorts of feelings. Not only feelings of disloyalty, but feelings towards men. Instinctively, Alejandro reached for his handgun. The two entered a deadly brawl.

They were locked in the dance of death. Their bodies followed the music of violence and brutality; their limbs stretched out and followed the inevitable rhythm of cuts and bruises, of sprained limbs and blood-soaked mouths; of strength and weakness; of the killer and of the killed. The base, animal instinct of murder prevailed over reason and argument. In her heart, Valeria knew that she and Alejandro had never talked properly, and they never would. It was not possible to speak of certain things. The betrayal, the pain; it hung over their struggling bodies, unspoken but felt. It hummed between their yells and grunts; it leapt out every time one looked at the other. Beyond what had happened with Y/N was what happened before. Valeria knew that she had instilled a pain so deep within him that it would never heal, that this pain would be part of him forever. An ugly pain that contorted him from the inside, a pain that Valeria prayed she would never experience. But it was all worth it. Were she given the chance to go back in time, she would do everything exactly like she did; she would pay any price if meant getting to spend her life with Y/N. There was no limit to what Valeria would do. She would break the hearts of everyone that was ever born, she would cut her soul in half -anything for her wife.

“How does it feel, huh?” Alejandro spat out between hurried breaths, matching her attacks with his. “Can you imagine it happening – can you see me doing it?”

“Callate!” Valeria saw her chance and sliced a long gash on his face. With an angry yell, he kicked her and the two fell apart. Valeria crouched with a hand on her abdomen and willed herself not to vomit. What Alejandro spoke of was incomprehensible to her. She could not conjure the image in her mind. It was as hateful as trying to imagine Y/N dying; it was unthinkable and too painful.

“You don’t think your woman could ever love a man?” He held a hand on the bleeding slash on his face, the blood staining his glove. “You really think that, given an alternative, she would stay with you forever?”

Valeria knew that he was only provoking her like he always did. It was one of the things he hated most about him, how he prioritised his amusement over her pain. How he would rile her up just to see her get angry. She hated how stereotypical he made her feel, a caricature of a Latin American woman - always angry, always nagging; feisty! She hated it when he would say how beautiful she looked when angry. Like when someone scares a peacock just to see it spread its beautiful blue and green feathers; a show for the entertainment of others. From the outside, it looked like lover's jest, but she always felt the contempt that lingered beneath his words, the secret enjoyment of her emotional torment. It was his way of dominating her, by controlling her emotions, triggering them for his pleasure. It was something that made her fall hard for Y/N, how, when Valeria showed her frustration, Y/N went above and beyond to soothe her. A shoulder massage, sweet words, sometimes food - she had an array of ways of pleasing Valeria and shooing away the clouds that hovered above her. It was the first time that Valeria felt someone affirm her feelings, and she realised that not all lovers wanted to see her suffer. That there was another life to be had, a soft life. A life where she was not tormented at home, where her spouse didn't make her feel insecure or unwelcome. A life of undeniable, steady love.

She felt the same thing happen now, this dangerous game with her inner fire. His provocation, how he dared her to do something about what he said. The difference was that now, she really did mean to kill him.

“She’s a lesbian, pendejo. It is not possible for her." Valeria looked around the container and felt a hysterical, manic laughter bubble to the surface.

"She's not like you and me. She only swings one way, my way."

Alejandro dropped his hand, the wound still bleeding but he did not bother to soothe it. The blood continued to flow freely, the droplets trailing down his face and threatening to leak onto the floor. There was something in his dark eyes that was at once terribly vulnerable and terribly hard. He tried to hide it, but Valeria had already seen it. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Valeria's face tightened with a terrible grin. "You heard me. You're just like me, Alejandro." She cocked her head to the side. "Exactly like me," she uttered slowly, emphasising every single word, letting them trail off her tongue.

Her words fell and landed with a thunderous blow. They were quiet words with heavy meaning. She felt him glow with shame, which he would express as anger. Men like him always did. Machismo men like Alejandro allowed no room in their lives for something which shamed and frightened them. They did this by not looking at the world too closely, as they did with their reflection in the mirror. They only allowed themselves the quickest of glances before they were in motion again. Their lives were a blur of movement, busy lives that, from the outside, were driven by a purpose bigger than themselves. But really, they busied themselves because they wouldn't allow what they were running from to catch up to them. This threat of shame would haunt them forever. It was not possible to run forever and so there were rare moments where they caught a glimpse of that terrible, nameless thing. Moments at the bar where something frightening glimmered within the eye of another man - was it suspicion, or was it recognition? He would tear his gaze away and look down at his glass, he would reach the bottom. He would forget what happened with each gulp, until the next time.

"You don't hate me because I left you. You hate me because I am what you won't allow yourself to be. Unashamed."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said with a dangerously low voice, his words sounding like a growl. "You're being crazy like you always were. A crazy, hysterical bitch-"

"You know there's even a word for it these days!" She said with enthusiasm, enjoying how the tables had turned. Enjoying that at long last, they would finally talk. "They call us bise-"

He lunged at her with the ferocity of a cornered animal, his blood-stained hands immediately grasping for her neck. Forcing her silence, forcing her to never speak that word in front of him. It was a silence that Valeria vowed to never hold again. She fended him with her knife, slashing at his wrists. She would buy herself enough time to finally say her peace. To finally get to the bottom of this sick, perverse jealousy that threatened to ruin them both.

"I always saw how you looked at him!" She yelled in between his attacks and her defence. "I saw how you shivered at his touch when you thought no one was looking! I know what is in your heart because it is exactly what is in mine. You hate me because you hate yourself. You think killing me will make that part of you go away, but it never will. I don't care how much you hate yourself, but it is NOT my problem. And it is certainly not my wife's problem!" Her words were drowned by his hands at her throat. Hands that were leaking blood like a river, shaky hands that would make her go quiet if it was the last thing they ever did.

" I am not like you!" He choked out the words. "I am a man."

His grip eased slightly, giving her only enough time to say one thing: "Rudolfo is a man too, but you still love him."

For the first time in her life, she felt that she would really die this time. She had cheated death many times before, but there was no more running from it this time. She would be one more body to the pile that shamed, repressed men created during their lifetime. A pile of murdered ex-lovers lest the world find out they had been loved, and of people who knew the truth and threatened to reveal it. Alejandro, wounded and bleeding out, was content to spend the last scrap of his energy choking her. His heart was beating so fast, he could hardly hear anything above the ringing in his ears. That deafening ringing noise and the feeling of Valeria's body underneath him were the only things he could feel.

And so he didn't hear the sound of creaking metal as the door was opened. He didn't hear someone yell at him to get off her. She was an important informant, after all. This whole mess was so that the Army could finally gain some intel on Hassan and the missiles, and here was the Colonel murdering their best chance at tracking those weapons. But Alejandro heard nothing, not the first pleas and the subsequent commands. He did not hear Rudolfo or Soap yelling. Nor did he hear heavy footsteps approaching and Commander Grave's rifle as it was raised above his head and brought down with more force than was needed. Alejandro's body flayed to the side, yet he held on.

"Damn it, you son of a bitch, I said get off!" Commander Grave's voice thundered within the container as he dragged Alejandro off of Valeria.

Rudolfo was at Alejandro's side at once, already beginning to patch up his wounds. As Valeria was being revived by someone else, Alejandro felt her cold, sardonic gaze on him. He could feel the satisfaction radiating off her, her 'I told you so.' Instinctively, he rejected Rudolfo's first aid. "Quítate," he mumbled and shrugged off any attempts at patching up his slit wrists, or his damaged face. Rudolfo's flinched away from Alejandro and turned to Valeria.

"Valeria Garza, you are now in the custody of the Mexican Army," said Rudolfo as he pulled out a set of handcuffs from his back pocket. "You're going to prison for what you did." He helped her get up and placed the cuffs on her as she gained her footing.

She was expressionless, shaky from her proximity to death. She could only utter one thing. "My wife."

Rudolfo nodded solemnly. "She is in custody waiting for you."

"If she's hurt-"

"She isn't," he said and looked to the side where Alejandro was tending to his own wounds. "I made sure of that." A ghostly smile hovered over her features as Valeria was escorted outside.

Note: I hope you've enjoyed this part! I'm very aware that Valeria and Y/N have spent very little time together in this fic and I promise to bring them together very soon!

pookie bear tag list: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit @00ops1e @lesvii @therapyneeds @lez-zuha @starre-eyes @7smexy7diva @hello-kitty-festival @konigmeu @cassiecasluciluce @gay-ass-country-boy @starwars-theclonewhore @bi-witch-bxtch @somnoslvt @ashthepillow @b3ns0ne @idiotwrites @danart501 @deakyspuff @mistresssiri @angethehimbosimp @@sae1kie

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty valeria #cod imagine #valeria garza #cod valeria #valeria garza x reader #valeria x female reader #valeria x reader

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scuttlingcrab · 2 months

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"The doublet is a magical item, so it can fit and mould to Raphael’s body no matter his form or temper." Now I'm just picturing Raphael transforming in anger while wearing the doublet and his rage is momentarily stopped when he realizes that it transformed with him and wasn't even singed.

Like, I could be incredibly angry with someone, but if I suddenly realized that my dress had pockets in it I know darn well that I'd need to at least stop and take a moment to marvel at that discovery before even thinking about continuing on with my anger. 😅

I was literally working on something similar when you sent your message! I've attached the ask below I was initially responding to. Thank you for your message anon and hope you enjoy! x

"Also, the idea of Raphael showing off his new clothes is just- It just tickles me! I can see him preening and flaunting like a peacock because of Tav's gift. I'd honestly read a sequel piece about that, if you want to write it. I've kinda already fallen in love with the whole idea of a luxury magic tailor Tav that the initial prompt fill and response has created as well as that Tav's potential dynamic with Raphael (and other characters *looking at Gale and his sewing needle quip*) and would absolutely be down to read more of that from you! 👀"

Summary: Raphael is caught off guard by his recent gift from Tav, so he decides to pay his little mouse a visit.

Notes: Read A Perfect Fit, which inspired this continuation.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Dressed to Kill

Raphael stomped through the halls of the House of Hope, shedding his mortal skin. The doublet didn’t set fire when Raphael transformed, instead, it morphed with his growing size. The silk fabric soothed his ridged body, feeling like a warm embrace. Raphael suppressed a scream. Wretched mortal! The debtors scurried out of his path like rats, seeking the shadows for an ounce of solace from the blistering rage.

He passed an open window and jolted to a halt. The blood-red light of Avernus caught the designs of his doublet, causing it to glimmer like diamonds. During his shift, the colour of his clothing changed. It now had a dark golden shimmer, the infernal embroidery a deep blue. He extended his arm, admiring the sleeve as he twisted it only slightly, and watched as the adornment reflected tiny devilish patterns onto the marble floors. The decorations moved, as if dancing. Another interesting, subtle detail.

Staring at these animations, Raphael’s breath calmed, his mind cleared. He stood taller, his head never held so high. Abruptly he spotted one of the debtors staring at him from his peripheral and lowered his hand, slowly turning to face them. Fire burned in Raphael’s eyes as he hissed, barring his sharp teeth. The debtor screeched before scurrying off to continue their meaningless eternal task.

“If I catch just one more incompetent lackey idling about, I will impale your sorry souls on trees and leave you to rot. You are all interchangeable. Do not forget that.”

Raphael watched as the last debtor fled from his sight. He will not be caught off guard again. No. In fact… he will pay that creature a visit.

–

Raphael materialised at the creature's camp in a swirl of flames and sparks, returning to his mortal disguise.

The camp was quiet at this hour, the creatures asleep, separated into their individual makeshift tents. And what a ghastly camp it was, third-rate, at best. Miscellaneous equipment littered every corner, books lay discarded, shoddy clothes hung drying on trees, and the animals… When did these mortals domesticate owlbears? Savages.

He slowly approached Tav’s tent, nestled towards the lake's shoreline. He parted the flap with an index finger and peeked inside. The creature was fast asleep, sharing her tent with that monstrosity Karlach.

He watched them sleeping, so defenceless. He perked up at the thought. If he was so inclined, he could have easily ended their lives, consumed their souls before the tadpoles defiled them; all it would take is a snap of his fingers…

“Rise and shine, little mouse.” Raphael purred.

Tav sprang up from her bed roll, clumsily readying a dagger from her sleeve. She held it out towards Raphael, one eye still closed, as she fought off the interrupted slumber.

Karlach simply turned over in her bedding, yawning and stretching like a cat. She slowly opened her eyes, sitting upright when she spotted Raphael standing at the entrance.

He smirked in response, placing a hand on his hip.

“What the hell is this creep doing here?”

“Good evening to you too, Karlach. I am simply checking in on my prospective clients.”

Raphael bowed deeply, making sure to be as flamboyant as possible in his gesture.

“In the middle of the bloody night? Fuck off, devil.”

Raphael slowly straightened himself, adjusting his sleeves. He aimed his cuffs towards the campfire, taking care to make sure the lighting was just right to highlight the devilish decorations.

“Tut, tut, Karlach, language. If I wanted to hear such hideous sounds I’d speak with a lemure.”

Karlach leapt to her feet, the rickety infernal engine in her chest glowing brighter as she stared daggers at him.

“Karlach, please…”

Tav raised a hand at Karlach, putting away her weapon. She rubbed away the rest of the sleep and focused on Raphael. Her face instantly lit up when she caught sight of his doublet.

“You’re… wearing it?” Tav whispered. She brought her hands to her mouth, attempting to hide her flushed cheeks.

“But of course! How could I resist such a delicious gift? It’s not often a devil like myself comes across a mortal with such curious tastes. Your attention to detail is…”

Raphael dramatically clasped his hands together, as if in a prayer. Yes, indeed. Thank the Gods up above for damning these poor creatures and sending them straight into his claws.

“Superb!”

“Hells, what have you done?” Karlach groaned, rolling her eyes. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

Tav gave Karlach a sidelong glance, narrowing her eyes. Raphael’s smile grew, devouring the creature’s disapproval and embarrassment. Almost as scrumptious as a soul.

“You are quite the seamstress. What else have you been creating on your adventures, hmm? I wonder, what would be the price for another item such as this? Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement?”

Tav’s mouth hung open at his words.

“I-I-uh, didn’t think that far ahead. Let me sleep on it.”

“Don’t keep me waiting, little mouse. You had my curiosity, but now… you have my full attention.”

Raphael raised his arms out wide, like a peacock strutting their finest feathers. He laughed as he surrounded himself in infernal flames. He had truly stumbled upon his greatest prize, his secret weapon to uniting the Nine Hells. Raphael would reach his target soon, that was for certain, but oh, oh yes... he would look hellishly chic in his pursuits. He would turn heads, devils and mortals alike.

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mammonsfeatheraccessories · 1 year

Text

possession

summary: a demon has come to visit you in the middle of the night. how lucky are you?

pairing: lucifer/gender-neutral, AFAB reader

genre: smut

cw: consensual fear play, mild degradation, religious undertones in some places, lucifer’s demonic features (including tongue/genitalia) and mentions of the blood/violence demons are capable of (but not toward reader), oral sex (reader receiving)

***

the lights blink, more than they flicker.

slow and deliberate, staring down at you as if you had, in some unknown, grave way, disappointed them.

the air was colder, too. it yoked the warmth from your flesh and left you too chilled to properly shiver. your pillows, your blanket, the soft loving nest of your bed were suddenly suffocating, scratchy and tight and you wondered how you’d ever been able to sleep there. you untangled yourself from them, gasping for air that turned to ice in your lungs:

the lamps gave you one final, lengthy glare, before the light was snuffed out, and not even the moon could reach in to guide you.

footsteps replaced the rhythm of the lights; they clicked despite the carpet beneath them. they were meant to be heard. you were meant to be frightened.

they stopped at the edge of your bed. suddenly, the ring you wore on your left hand glowed a harsh and striking blue. it sought permission, or perhaps even approval, it’s brilliance puffing like peacock feathers in the black night.

the quick, assuring jerk of your chin was all that he needed.

“didn’t anyone ever tell you?” cold fingers danced over your exposed ankle, before forming a tight and painful coil. a rough tug yanked you to the edge of your bed. “uncovered limbs invite the monsters into your bed.”

now that he wanted to be seen, he gave off a gentle glow, almost angelic in the way he lit up the room. how strange it was to see him handle you so roughly; his strong hands were built to be clasped in prayer. how awful that his eyes sliced you to pieces under his knowing gaze; they were so beautiful when gazing at the heavenly skies.

his beauty almost soothed you. he was meant to be looked at. created to be adored, but then broken down to be feared. his crimson eyes were framed by his thick, dark lashes. they were the color of fresh blood. his lips, stern-set but sweetly pink, were parted by the sharp points of his fangs. his face. his lovely, perfect face, marked only by the diamond etched onto his forehead — how was it possible for it to twist with such fury, the way it did now?

but that was where it ended, his similarity to the angels.

for next there was the curve of his onyx horns. from experience you knew the tips were sharp as needles. they would draw blood, even on accident. they were not meant to protect the demon — they were meant to gore. to gut. to hunt.

the feathers of his wings were said to contain an immense power, bringing an exacting savagery to any hex or curse or potion even the weakest sorcerer might conjure. but you couldn’t imagine him letting a single feather fall without consequence.

spread before you now, the span of his wings enveloped your vision, the frame to the exquisite portrait of his nude body. once divine and entirely wicked, your eyes could not help but wander from the prideful lift of his chin to the gleaming expanse of his chest. his skin looked so soft. so soft, even stretched over tight muscles, cold blood and eons of unveiled rage.

he must have kept all that in his dick. it demanded respect, swinging heavy between his thick thighs, the bulbous tip shining a pretty metallic teal, darkening indigo to black as it reached the base. the underside was scaled. it looked smooth, oddly vulnerable. the valley of bumps that formed over his shaft were fun to traverse with your tongue. he was already erect, impatiently so, and it was the one tell in the whole scene, the crack in the facade of your mock corruption; damn it, how he had missed you.

your hands trembled, sought creature comfort in the sheets bunched in between your fingers. he tugged you even closer to the edge of the bed and spread your legs wide.

his nostrils flared, his pupils constricted. your cheeks warmed up in shame, already knowing where this was heading. “this excites you. i can smell it.” he clicked his tongue. “humans are vile. predictable. and worst of all, they are weak.”

and so he went to prove it.

you were wearing shorts to bed. you were pretty sure you’d worn panties, too. now they were gone. you hadn’t heard them tear, you hadn’t felt the slide of them down your legs, nor had you lifted your arms for the removal of your shirt, but you were exposed, needy, and utterly humiliated in a matter of seconds.

“congratulations,” he spoke, eyes to roaming over your form almost distractedly, petting your thigh before sinking to his knees. he slipped his fingers between your legs, coating them in your juices. “you have one of the most powerful beings in all three realms kneeling before you.” a smirk overtook his features as you watched him play with the mess you made, eyes catching yours to mock you. “aren’t you proud of yourself?”

you couldn’t speak. his skilled fingers found your clit and coaxed it to come out and say hello. “so cute,” he sighed, circling it with his thumb. “i hope your pussy is as obedient as you are.”

shit. your legs tried to close, flames licking a little too hot in the pit of your stomach. he’d be pissed if you came this early, not when he’d traveled such a long way.

but you couldn’t move at all. he’d paralyzed you — when? you hadn’t heard him cast any spell. you could only watch him, wide-eyed and nervous when he let his tongue unfurl before you.

you considered it the most demonic thing about him, both in its appearance and what he made it do. it was long, navy and pointed, slick where he’d allowed saliva to pool and drip over your pussy.

he was every bit the monster in your closet, coming out to devour you whole, his fangs glinting brilliant and evil as he teased you with their proximity to your most vulnerable place. he turned his face, reaching under you to pull you closer to him, legs draped over his shoulders. the tops of his teeth gently grazed the inside of your thigh, a simple reminder: he could kill you from here, kneeled between your legs like a supplicant.

but then his tongue soothed over the spot, even though he hadn’t bitten down. he sucked kisses into your skin that were maybe a bit too reverent for a demon trying to steal your soul. he caught himself and firmly corrected it, sinking his nails into the fat of your thighs. they were more like claws, and you gasped at piercing sensation. it made you so much wetter, and him so much cockier, the fragility of a useless, desperate human making his mouth water.

“look at me,” he demanded, and your body complied without thought. so you could move, as long as he willed it, similar to the way you could control him under your pact. how odd. how freeing. “you’re mine,” he said, eyes flashing something ancient and primal. “i don’t kneel for just anyone. you understand that, don’t you? nod. let me see that you understand.”

you nodded.

“good human,” he grunted, then finally lowered his face.

ah. ahh. the lights came on again when he tasted you the first time, then shut off with a bang. his tongue dipped inside of you and moved, unnervingly dexterous and all-knowing, dragging your slick juices to your clit to suck it the way he knew you liked best.

lucifer was a methodical demon. he knew nothing other than to give his very best. which was why it was so hot that he sometimes lost himself in you, dragging down by your hips to bury his face in your cunt when he was supposed to be teasing you. it was hotter still that he’d turn around and blame you for it — he could do no wrong, after all — clearly you needed to be punished — clearly you’d have to try again, and don’t cum this time, be good for him —

his tongue could reach places even his talented fingers couldn’t. it was your downfall every single time you did this. by now you’d learned that in this act alone, lucifer would purposely set you up to fail because he liked it when you did. you’d know the moment he’d grown too frustrated at not being inside you, because suddenly his vicious tongue would lash out with such ferocity it made your very atoms submit to him, twisting, and curling inside you as he lapped at your g-spot, how the fuck-

maybe he’d lost too much focus or your own power had broken through the barrier, but your hips flew up when your orgasm finally crashed through you, painting his clever tongue as your walls pulsed around the wiggling muscle. you clutched his horns and rode his face until it was too much, and it wasn’t until you caught your breath that you realized you’d both failed this roleplay, but it was going to be your problem.

for he was still kneeling between your legs, glaring at you, annoyed.

“i see you have yet to learn your place,” he chided, drawing himself to his full height. now he towered before you, monstrous cock bobbing in front of your swollen mouth.

“i think it’s time you kneel for me.”

#asdgksajda it’s been years since i’ve written and i’m self conscious but i miss it #not edited and written on my phone 😬 so bound to be full of errors #i’m also not a luci simp so i’m surprised he’s the first one i’ve written something spicy about?#anyway #hope it’s ok!!!#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me smut #obey me lucifer #obey me x reader #obey me x mc

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subbalakshmisastry · 10 months

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youtube

Beautiful Peacocks Dance Of Rare White Peacocks & Blue Peacocks , Karan...

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thedarkheretic156 · 7 months

Text

VIII Eternal Flame VIII

The final moon before the feast dawns on the young demigod, and with it, it's threatening consequences.

Parts: ❧ I II III IV V VI VII ❧

Warnings: Fem Afab reader, she/her pronouns. Angst, mentions of death, violence, slight nsfw (if you squint).

Even as a child, I remembered how the fire dancers in the east would tell stories of the old. Their fires in hues I had never seen before. Deep crimsons and pale yellows with greens that rivalled rain forests. That was the first time I realised that every flame was different.

The dancers moved and their long braids swished around them, their movements sharp and lithe, not missing a beat. Fire dancing was an old tradition, performed every year, one night before the feast of manana. It was called the ceremony of the Khar-moon, the incomplete moon.

It was less a form of entertainment and more of a ritual, a portrayal of faith towards the Goddess. They said that the performers practiced all year long just for those few minutes on stage. And it never failed to take my breath away, twirling on the stage, aglow with the torches behind them, the dancers looked like flames personified.

This year, I knew the story well. It was the same boring text my aunt had grated into my brain. She would even sit me down and make me recite it over and over, until the words clouded my thought the moment, I closed my eyes. So, it wasn’t surprising that I recognised it at once. They were telling the tale of ‘the hearth’. The beginning of all life. Or what we understood of it.

The dancer dressed as the hearth was in silver and orange, their eyes lidded, a beacon of peace and tranquillity. The music fanned, low and rhythmic as the singer began the first song. Their clear voice rang out, rippling through the crowd.

My palms sunk into the grass as I leaned forward eagerly. My aunt swatted my ankle, “sit properly!" but the swelling music drowned out her voice.

They sang of how every fire was born from the Hearth. Each eventually taking different forms. Dancers dressed in gold twirled around the Hearth. The fire of the stove, I recognised. Gold bangles glittered around their wrists as they moved, calling fire that looked like molten gold, its flames docile and controlled.

The music shifted suddenly, becoming faster, louder just as a dancer in scarlet jumped high from between them, red flames curling around their wrists. The flame that lights the torch for war.

All the flames gathered around the hearth and bowed deeply. Paying respect to the one that birthed them. And that’s the end of the story, I thought.

“Can we leave, father? -” I started and my aunt hissed me into silence. I furrowed my brow; was there more?

It was then that another dancer jumped up front, my heart jumped at the sudden action. Their clothes were blue, flowing around them like water, replicating the shades that flickered within my flames.

It was a harsh contrast to the others dressed in shades saffron. A stranger, an anomaly.

I remembered feeling a pit in my stomach, the curiosity I had for the play suddenly dissipating like someone had put out a candle.

My flames were blue.

And I wasn’t told this part of the story.

It did not bow to the hearth, the dancer flicked their blue robes arrogantly, the fabric rising like the audacious plume of a peacock. I gulped nervously as my aunt finally pulled me back on the seat. I heard her mutter sharply but my father shushed her down,

"Leave her be Hathor." He grumbled.

I felt my breath shallow. As the head clan, I sat with my family at the very front. Placed closest to the stage, second only to the Gods. It was the highest honour, something to wear with pride, yet I wanted to crawl away. I couldn’t help but curl my fist around my father’s robes in anticipation. While every eye was on the performer, I was the one who felt the burn of their gaze.

The blue flame was different. I was told I was born with divinity. But there was nothing divine about this flame Without a shred of warmth, something born in hell, far away from the fire of a hearth.

The flames that dance on a pyre.

An immortal bound in death.

Even now, years later, as I stared at the Khar-moon high in the sky I couldn’t help but remember the performance, the fire dancers, and the pit in my stomach.

One night before the feast of manana.

I tore my eyes away from the moon, no point in brooding over that now. I looked over at Sesshomaru and he was already halfway down the hill. Prideful steps, not even bothering to look over his shoulder. So, it had taken him about 4 seconds before he went back to his mutt like ways.

I shook my head, gathering the hem of my kimono so I wouldn’t trip and land on his head. Rin and Jaken could be anywhere down the mountain. And it was about time I greeted them.

❧

“It’s a human village.” I realised, “We’re staying here?” I asked, genuinely surprised. Sesshomaru and his disgust towards humans was more than apparent, why in the world would he set camp in a human village?

His eyes looked back as I trotted up to him. In the darkness of the night, it was hard to tell, but there something haunting about this place. I pulled my eyes towards the village again. There was a morbid silence that coveted the landscape. The small bamboo knit cottages looked empty, abandoned. Like a painting standing still before us, there was nothing alive in this village.

“It’s been deserted…” I stated. A strange nervousness settled in me,

“Humans.” He said, his voice basically a pained sigh, “cowardly creatures.”

I started back at him in horror, what kind of a person thinks a deserted human village is a good resting spot? Even I knew that humans emptying out entire villages was bad news. And not just the ayakashi kind, the apocalyptic prophecy kind.

“It better not be plagued.” I tell him,

Sesshomaru just scoffed in response, “Try and keep up.” He replied, “I won’t come searching for you a second time.”

I gave him a sarcastic smile before starting to walk.

A singular fire burned in the still landscape, like a dying ember. Despite everything that had happened in this short period, I had always found myself back here. Maybe it was suiting that I spend my last night with them. The khar moon was already high in the sky, and I could feel the exhaustion of the travel weigh down on my shoulders. I dragged my feet down, trying to push unnecessary thoughts away. Spending your last night in a plagued town. I thought, how poetic.

❧

Jaken cried more than Rin. Which was surprising.

“W-what a r-relief.” Jaken sobbed out loudly, I looked over at the goblin grinning, “You did miss me how cute.”

Rin ran into an embrace, her wiry arms clutching onto my kimono like she was afraid to let go again. There wasn’t anything childlike in the way she cried, no angry tears, no broken sobs, just silent tears of relief. I stood frozen in my place, just…unsure. My arms felt like lead, and in that moment despite how glad I was to see the human child alive I couldn’t make myself show it.

Something tugged at my heart, but I pushed it aside at once.

Humans are delicate creatures. Death comes to them swiftly, whisking them away like they never existed. Befriend them and you live on with their ghosts.

I patted her head awkwardly, “Hey it’s okay.” I said. “I’m okay.”

The child pulled away reluctantly, she nodded wiping a runny nose with the back of her hand, “are you s-sure?” she sobbed out.

I stepped back so I could give her a turn, “All good, see?”

Rin gave me a skeptical look, “You don’t look very good.” She replied.

I threw back my head and laughed, my voice ringing out in the midnight sky. I looked down at the kimono I was wearing. It was one of Sango’s pink ones, and I had really put it through hell and back. “Do you have a spare?” I asked jokingly.

Rin peeked a smile watching me laugh, a sense of relief rushing to her face. “Follow me!” she chirped, the old self I knew slipping back. I grinned at the little skip in her step as she sprinting down towards the cottage. “It’s the one behind the big tree!” she said giddily, pointing towards a bamboo knit cottage. I grabbed the hem of my kimono, not realising the easy smile lacing my lips and ran after her.

❧

Jaken patted down his own tears, “I’m so glad you found her Lord Sesshomaru!” He said, “Rin must be so relieved now.”

Sesshomaru grunted in response, watching the human child skip towards the cottage and the woman clutching on to the all too big kimono to keep up with her. The two of them laughed, bare feet skidding on the dew-covered grass. A human world of their own.

It had been less than a month since the strange woman had appeared, Sesshomaru shook his head, he had saved her. He assured himself. Returned her safely, yet the daiyokai couldn’t seem to quiet his thoughts. The haunting stories of the infamous blood moon somehow sneaking up on him, ringing constantly at the back of his mind.

He tossed his hair over his shoulder, turning away. Once the wretched crimson moon had passed us, he thought, It’ll be quiet again.

❧

Rin grinned wide, stretching out her hands to show all the space we suddenly had. This cottage was way better than any we had come across before. With all the travelling and avoiding humans, there was hardly any liveable spaces to begin with. Much less an entire village. Rin dug into one the chests in the cottage pulling out spare clothes, they had even left clothes behind.

This place… its like the humans had just randomly disappeared into thin air. They had left everything behind. Clothes, pots of grains and rice, children’s toys scattered on the grass like they had disappeared while playing.

I jumped as Jaken snored loudly in the background. This sound I had not missed.

Rin giggled at my expression, “Master Jaken couldn’t sleep at all, while you weren’t here.”

“That’s…” I started, “Surprising.”

I took the new kimono Rin had offered me, finally pulled off Sango’s borrowed one I had on. Man I had really put these poor clothes through the apocalypse. Every time I got a new one, I’d just get attacked by something or the other.

Rin’s eyes pinned on the bandages, wide with worry,

She opened her mouth but the words seemed to hang in her throat.

“Someone very skilled helped me with it.” I assured her, although I didn’t know if kagome’s grass medicine could be categorized as very skilled, it had saved my life like it was ambrosia of the Gods.

Naraku’s poison had quite literally charred through my skin, clumped out the flesh. Nothing I hadn’t seen before, but this mortal body didn’t heal the way my ayakashi one did.

“Does it still hurt?” she asked timidly.

“No.” I lied.

Her thumbs fiddled with the hem of the checkered fabric, “Who was the woman that attacked us?”

“Does it matter?” I asked. “We run into ayakashi all the time.” I said, She was so young. I thought, at her age all I cared about was chasing fire birds and setting yokai on fire. She shouldn’t feel the need to carry that much.

“This one unfortunately was the bad kind, that’s all” I tried to convince her, the lesser she knew about all this mess the better.

Rin’s face fell regardless,

What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I just thought…” Her voice wavered, lower lip quivering as she pulled on a brave façade, “I thought you got hurt.” She completed finally.

I turned on my side to look at her. Her eyes looked glassy from the tears, the runny nose and ears red from the cold, bony elbows sticking out of the blanket and a swelling mosquito bite on her cheek.

“No one would tell me what happened.” she said quietly. “Then Lord Sesshomaru left too, and I just had to wait here.” She completed.

Sudden anger flared in me, after everything she had witnessed, all he did was take off without a word? At least I was trying to make up lies.

“But it wasn’t just that.” Rin replied, cheeks puffed from trying not to cry, “It was that other thing.”

I turned my head towards her, “What do you mean?”

Rin’s face paled, uncertainty flickering in her eyes, “I don’t know what it was.” She started,

And I felt my heart drop. ��I-, I think I saw something when we met that woman in the forest.”

“It wasn’t her, it felt darker,” her voice quivered, “Meaner, like there was something more than just the lady before us.”

She gulped, eyes glazing as she tried to remember, “It was all around her looming over the forest, like a spider made of shadows,” she said softly.

I felt myself holding my breath.

“It’s like I could feel how-” Tears welled up in her eyes again, “Wei, it wanted to hurt you so badly.” She croaked out.

Something bitter curled in my mouth,

Rin shook her head, her voice got very low, “I don’t even know if it was real, or I’m going crazy.”

She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, “but I know what I felt. I know it, even though I couldn’t see” her brow knitted in frustration, “And even though master Jaken said it was in my head.” her eyes finally met mine, she shuddered, “Am I crazy?”

I stared at her, out of all the things I thought she would have to say…

“You’re not crazy.” I told her, knowing that I should probably just agree with Jaken and tell her she dreamed it. Keeping her away from all of this mess was the best mercy I could grant her. And yet I couldn’t make myself lie to her. At the end of it she deserved to know the danger before us, something we would soon be facing down whether I like it or not.

“The spider…” my voice trailed, how much of everything do I even tell her. “He exists.” I confirmed.

Just the memory made the scars on my chest sting, “and he did want to hurt me.”

I pulled my eyes to the shadows on the hay roof of the cottage, dancing in the dark like the curling legs of the spider. His strength had completely caught me off guard and the helplessness I had felt in his clutches still haunted me. I hated to admit it but the thought that I would probably be dead before I see him again was relieving.

“Why?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

I shook my head, “What matters is that he couldn’t.” But he will try again and again. If he wants hellfire then I’m his only link to it. I pursed my lips,

Rin’s silence rang of hesitation.

“Lord Sesshomaru can protect us from him.” She finally said, trying to sound dutiful.

“Yeah.” I mimed out absently. Honestly I’d like to think that too. Sesshomaru hadn’t ever shown me the extent of his powers, But if Inuyasha and the others don’t stop him from mining that ore, maybe even the daiyokai of the east won’t be able to stop him.

“Could you sense him too?” she asked hopefully, “The way I did?”

I shook my head, “Not really.”

Thinking back to the encounter, my reaction was purely instinctual, I hadn’t even noticed naraku’s powers until after I was already in his void. It wasn’t uncommon for humas to see demons. But it was nearly impossible for them to sense their magic. And Rin had seen naraku’s miasma even before he had shown up.

My heart felt heavy, now the coincidences were getting too cruel.

“But,” I started, my mouth felt like sandpaper, “There are some humans who can see and sense more than others.” I told her.

In the east we called it the gift of Manana, blessed by the moon with the power of premonition. Someone who could see terrible things before they actually happened. Wei, the real Wei, had the same powers.

I gave her a pained smile, “Just think of it as a gift.”

Rin looked horrified, “I don’t want it.” She croaked out. “I don’t ever want to see anything like that again.”

“It’s not all too bad.” I replied, “I knew someone who had a similar ability. She could sense things, before they actually happened.”

Not that it prevented her death, I thought bitterly.

“So, I can learn how to control it?” Rin asked.

Wei had learned to control it, I remembered. It was painted in my mind like an ink scroll painting.

Her eyes lidded as she sat before the fire, and her face crinkling as I broke her meditation. She would hiss out of frustration when I continued to egg her on, her leaf green eyes opening wide, “even the toddlers in the village know better, y/n, Toddlers!”

I averted my eyes painfully, “I guess you can.”

Rin flexed her fingers as if expecting the magic to show up on her palms, “How do I do that?”

“I don’t know.” I replied quickly, pushing away the torrent of emotions that often-accompanied Wei’s memories.

“Maybe you could ask your friend.”

“No.” I replied sharply.

I can’t ask her. Not anymore.

They would have gotten along. I had realised that the moment I had met Rin. wet tears slipped down my cheekbones sliding over the shell of my ears.

"Wei are you crying?" Rin's sleep heavy voice called out,

I felt my vision grow cloudy.

"No." I sniffled.

Rin hand threw an arm over my torso, "it's okay" the child mumbled, "I missed you too."

“You say you wouldn’t do that for anyone.” She had sniggered, twirling the scared bells around before bonking it on my head,

I pushed her hand away angrily and she had laughed, “But I bet you’d do that for me.”

I sat up suddenly.

“Where are you going?” Rin asked,

“Go to sleep.” I told her, I ran a hand along the nape of my neck, it was drenched in sweat. The cottage was too warm, and my mind was too heavy with the thoughts. I pulled my hair up in a knot. It was my last night before my death, and I didn’t want to spend it under a covered roof.

❧

The spring looked prettier than usual, but it didn’t help that the water in it was biting cold.

I groaned as I lowered myself in the spring slowly. With the full moon on the morrow, there was no scarcity of moonlight. A view like that would have enchanted anyone, mortal or not. I sank into the numbing cold water, my fingers trailing over my arm absently. This body the curse had put me in had only started to feel like mine. It was brittle and lanky, so weak I dared not test its limits. But I had surprised myself with everything it did withstand.

Maybe it wasn’t that easy to kill humans after all.

With everything I had survived, I wondered how exactly death would come for me under the moon tomorrow. I let my head roll back in thought. I didn’t even have the capacity to think how I was to die tomorrow. I took in a deep breath pulling myself under the surface.

It felt calm underwater, the water cancelled out the sounds of the forest. God, what would I give to fall asleep under the surface just like this. This would be a nice death, like you’re drifting away to sleep. It would be a sad death; they probably wont even sing of me in the east. I stayed under water until my lungs screamed for air, eventually bopping my head up over the surface.

“human.”

His sight just left me frozen,

What the actual fuck was he doing here now.

It was a little pathetic how much I ogled him as he lowered himself into the spring slowly.

His body was that of a warrior, honed over the years, stripped with scars, some fading some brazen. I couldn’t imagine how many stories he had to tell about just the scars on his arms.

I tried to keep my eyes on his torso, trying not to dip any lower than the magenta marks around his waist.

But while the chilly mist rising from the spring was thick, it was not opaque enough. His shamelessness in my presence was surprising, but then again, he probably thought of me like a bug. Who covers themselves in front of insects?

Even in the hot spring, he settled down like a king on a throne. His silver hair pooled around him like molten starlight. With the damp hair matted across his forehead, and the slitted amber eyes peeking through the bangs, he looked every bit the god they painted him in the folk tales.

I averted my eyes awkwardly, heat rushing to my face. My body remembering the time he had actually let his reatsu out after we had hunted the boar. The way it had crawled over my senses, overwhelming me until I could feel it in the back of my throat- stop it. I screamed at myself, pressing my thighs together.

“What are you doing here?!” I snapped at him. Even after being in a human body my demon instinct still persisted and I did not have the time to deal with how badly my ayakashi-self wanted to ride him.

“Your scars.” He stated casually,

I looked down finally realising that I was also naked before him. I gulped, “urm, yes.” I replied awkwardly. In the moonlight it looked even worse than it actually was.

“It’s still poisoned.” He stated. “I can still smell his miasma off of you.”

I winced as he said that, brushing my fingers over the wounds. I had been afraid of that being the case, even without my ayakashi senses, I could feel the poison in the wounds, keeping them from healing properly. Remanets of his disgusting magic that have permanently branded themselves on my body.

“It will only fade in his death.” I sighed, a miasma like that is connected to an ayakashi’s soul.

“You won’t have to wait too long for that.” He replied.

I felt very cold, “What do you mean?” I whispered out.

His voice sent chills ran down my spine. “Isn’t it obvious?” he snarled out, “I am going to seek out the spider.”

My jaw slacked, “what do you mean seek him out?”

His eyes flicked towards me, already annoyed, “Do you think I’m a coward that sits back silently, Human?” he growled,

I shook my head, “You cannot defeat him.”

He snarled in reply, the sound making the hair on my arms stand.

“Not another word-” He growled out.

I felt a lump in my throat as his amber eyes narrowed, they were truly a beautiful colour, I forced myself to think clearly, “You don’t know what he’s capable of.” I told him.

Sesshomaru grunted, “How strong he seemed to a human like you is irrelevant.” He replied, “To so much so as look at someone under my protection was a death sentence.”

“He will pay for this insolence towards me. For even thinking of challenging me. For a spider like that to do this…” he growled out, “How humiliating.”

What stung my heart was how familiar it all was. His words, ego masquerading as nobility. How selfish the words truly sounded.

It sounded like me.

“To you?” I scoffed out, my voice low.

“I am standing here and I can fucking feel what he did to my body.” I told him, the scars, the phantom pain, the fear will never wash away. “And you have the audacity to talk about how he slighted you?”

My breathing was heavy and angry. “Because that’s what it is, isn’t it?” I said, “you’re just worried about what the world will think of you, the great daiyokai bested by a spider.”

Tears pricked at my eyes, “She used to tell me revenge is selfish, and I… I just couldn’t understand her.” I mumbled out.

My shoulders slumped; I am a fool.

All my fucking life, I had created an idea of myself. The great demigod, a ruthless warrior, and I had truly believed I was meant to live that life. But in the end, it had all been so meaningless. What had that gotten me? I had lived through my immortal life haunted by Wei’s voice, buried under the weight of her death. Tortured by just the thoughts of all that could have been. The whole truth shattered around me into a million pieces.

I buried my face in my fingers, my legs going very weak.

“What I thought would give her peace, was truly just a step I took for myself. I should have pressed that ego down. I should have stayed with her, somewhere I knew it was what my heart wanted. But I was scared that the act would be called too cowardly.”

“I failed her.” I completed. “I failed her in every way.”

The taunting voices in my head were dead silent.

“Tell me Sesshomaru.” I asked him, “Do you wish to kill him because by attacking me he questioned your authority? That you felt emasculated that someone under your protection was taken from right under your nose. Or is it truly because you wish to bring someone justice?”

He stared at me silently as I continued.

“There’s a difference, you know. A difference I just realised existed.” I shook my head, giving out a dry laugh.

“One you do for your own ego, to put someone who has defied you in their place. To tell the world that you aren’t the coward. The second…” my voice trailed away. Why hadn’t I understood such a simple thing when she was alive?

“What of the second, human?” he hissed out.

I looked up at the daiyokai sadly, “The second you do out of love.”

He actually laughed, which I soon realised was a lot more horrifying than his poker face.

He turned his head away, “It’s this trait of you humans that I cannot understand. You worry too much about your fragile lives, it’s foolish, weak.”

I frowned, my own anger bubbling up to the surface.

“Not only that, you begged me to abandon you to save her.” He continued.

His amber eyes slitted, the mountains around us seemed to shift, “you are fooled if you think you’re not weak.”

He’s exactly like me.

Rein in your temper daughter of the hills, the voices sang,

But you can’t put out fires from hell.

"You talk of how I'm lesser for saving Rin, yet you came crawling to search for me remember?!" I said pointing a wrinkly finger at him,

Sesshomaru looked like I had just slapped him across his face. The water around me chilled. I knew the moment I should stop yapping, but my bitter temper just continued to pour out.

“You’re the one that’s weak and cowardly.” I snarled out. “Cowering away under the guise of arrogance when all you have is your empty honour. Even the measly humans you seem to hate show more chivalry.”

His growl rang in my ears as he charged. Within a second his fingers were curled around my throat, pinning me down.

His hair fell around me like a rain of starlight, his ragged breath fanning my face as his fangs slipped out. My heart hammered in my chest, as he spoke, “You have constantly, tested my patience human.” His grip tightened around me, nails digging into my skin.

“Do it.” I spat out. The anger in his eyes flickered, taken aback with something of the same ferocity staring back. After everything I had gone through, with my death facing me down tomorrow, did he think a tantrum would scare me?

“You’re only angry because I’m right.” I gurgled out. “Wei tried telling me that.” I told him, watching his brow furrow with confusion. His grip loosened and I pushed him away.

,It may be that mortal lives are delicate, but they aren't like flowers that wilt away. Many like battle scars leave their mark. They are immortalised in memories, daughter of the hills. Even bound to death, they are worth living.

“Maybe my death will make you realise that.”

❧

I strode towards the camp angrily, in my rage I hadn’t even dried myself, just draped my kimono over my body, screamed at him and left.

I cringed a little, such dramatics. Couldn’t have just dried myself before making such impactful exit. Now the clothing along with me was sopping wet, water dripping down at my feet making small puddles as I walked back.

Something rustled making me halt. As I stared, a strange figure seemed to loom around the opening of the groove.

I furrowed my brow, the silhouette looked like that of a child that was crouched over. Did Rin follow me all the way here? I craned my neck, about to call her out when the figure spoke up first.

“Does mortality fare you well? Daughter of the hills?”

The voice was light and girlish, unrecognizable. My heart went still,

It couldn’t be.

The figure stepped forward, striding into the moonlight so I could see her.

It was a child, yet it wasn’t. The alarm that rang in my bones wasn’t from fear, it was recognition. The more I looked at her, the more inhuman she looked. Markings adorned her body, inky lines running up her face and arms, whorls made of runes mapped like galaxies on her body.

It was the same creature, that 14 moon before had appeared before me differently. My breath shallowed as time slowed around me.

The crone.

I raged towards the crone, but it felt like someone had tied boulders to my feet. Illusion magic? The invisible weight slammed me into the ground. The impact knocking the breath out of me.

She pointed a chubby finger at my face, “Have you learned nothing?”

I looked up at her aghast, the girl was no bigger than Rin, barefoot with windswept hair like she had just casually wandered out of a nearby village. She tossed a flat- stone between her hands, giving me a grin that missed a front tooth. “By now you should know you can’t compete with me.”

I growled angrily at her words, my nails dug into palms so hard I drew blood, while, she just watched me a mocking smile.

I knew it was the unnerving eyes, the iris was completely white, blinded by a cloudy white haze, like the moon peeking from behind clouds. Her unyielding gaze was pinned on me. I knew in that moment it was nothing but her gaze that had pinned me to the ground.

Don’t fucking stay down this time.

I pushed through the invisible weight with everything I had. The more I struggled against it the worse it seemed to get, gripping down my bones until they broke. I screamed through the pain, the pressure sending a stream of blood down my nose. The first time I couldn’t face her, this time- I will not go down that easily. With spots dancing before my eyes, I managed to drag myself up to my knees. My smouldering gaze finally met her, “Give m-!”

Within a second the pressure doubled, it felt like someone had grabbed my shoulders and slammed me back into the ground with a thud.

“Mmph!”

She put a hand to her ear theatrically, “I’m sorry, what was that?” the cheeky tone of her voice really pissed me off. “Couldn’t hear you with your face planted in the dirt.”

I looked up at her painfully, spitting out grass. “Give me...” I growled out. “My powers back.”

The kid gave me a toothy grin, “Even if I did,” She said cheekily, “You know your current body won’t be able to contain it right? Your flames are so ruthless, they won’t even show their own master any mercy.” She giggled as if it was the funniest thing in the world, “They’ll roast you from the inside out!”

I looked at her morbidly, “I miss the crone.”

The girl laughed, “We’re not much different.”

“Why are you here?” I asked. “What more could you possibly want?” I told her, “You have taken everything. Everything.”

My neck felt like it was going to snap from the pressure, “My powers, my body, everything that made me, myself. You stripped me of my very being” I cried out.

The creature sighed, “yes, how unfortunate.”

My anger surfaced again “You vile masochistic demon.” I snarled out, thrashing on the ground as the invisible force continued to pin me, “What did you gain by putting me through all of this?”

The child arched an eyebrow,

“So your mother levelling mountains because someone ticked her off is divine, but me cursing a sad demigod is vile?” She challenged, “Such double standards.” She said clicking her tongue, “I was right the first time, your ayakashi blood does make you stupid.”

My eyes widened, my mother?

I felt my mouth go very dry, I should have figure that the scorching light wasn’t just any spell, it was divine spirit energy. No ayakashi can put curses out like that. No, I realised bitterly, it wasn’t a curse at all, it was a prophecy.

A Goddess.

She could bend everything that the moonlight fell over. Bathed in divine light, the goddess of the crimson moon.

Just like the different phases of the moon she appears different each time.

Oh seven hells. Maybe I should apologise for calling her a masochist.

My jaw tightened, “You’re her.” I gasped out, goosebumps flooding my body, “You are Manana.”

A ghost of a smile played at her lips, the blind eyes crinkling at the sound of her name, “Well then,” she said, sounding very pleased. “Now that you know, we can actually begin.”

“What do you want?” I said, feeling the exhaustion in my bones. I had fought for this stupid human life for days, scrambling to keep myself alive. I hadn’t expected mortality to be so heavy.

“What I want?” She asked, giving out another laugh, “I thought you would be rubbing your nose at my feet begging me to spare your life tomorrow.” She completed. “Tell me daughter of the hills, do you not fear the fate tomorrow’s crimson moon will bring you?”

Considering how much it did scare me, I should have been begging her for life. For most demigods in the stories, begging for mercy to a Goddess worked out well.

“Unless..” She picked up on my thoughts, “That’s no longer what you wish for.”

I pulled myself to tell her what was truly ripping me from the inside, “If Naraku holds my dying heart, he’ll get his hands on hellfire.” I said,

“But my death will prevent that” I explained flatly, “There won’t be a beating heart to hold.” I told her bitterly. My eyes met her’s with a broken smile, “it’s not much, but I can accept a death like that.” It’s the best defence I can provide the others.

The ends of her mouth twitched, “Are you really naive enough to believe that something so mundane as death would stop him?” She replied, “There’s no stopping his ambition. He’ll find a way to attain your flames even if he has to carve out your corpse.”

No. I mouthed.

“That’s not what was supposed to happen.” I whispered out, my throat going very dry, my death won’t matter. He will continue to hunt everyone I will leave behind.

I curled my fists, “You don’t understand, this isn’t just about me anymore.” I looked up at her, trying to gather any shred of sympathy. “If he gets his hands on my flames, I–“ I shook my head, “I don’t even know what all he would be capable of.” I looked up at sudden desperation closing up my throat, “No one else understands.”

“Not Sesshomaru not inuyasha and the others, they don’t fucking understand how powerful he is.” But I do.

I felt the brunt of his powers firsthand, the poison in his miasma and how his talons tried to carve out my heart. “They will not be able to stand up to him.”

“And?” she asked.

My words faltered, “And?” I cried out angrily, My voice cracked, “The death and destruction he will bring would be a thousand times worse than what I did.”

“Human lives obviously.” The Goddess said, “Naraku’s descent into power will spark a war bartered in lives, ayakashi and humans.” She flicked the flat-stone and it disappeared mid-air.

“But it’s a war that does not concern you.” She said, “It is something you won’t even have to deal with at all. What has changed so much, that it has you pleading, daughter of the hills?”

“That doesn’t…” I pursed my lips, no longer knowing what exactly to say. I will die tomorrow. And whatever fucked up shit naraku is brewing I won’t be a part of it. Wasn’t that the easiest way out of it?

“I can’t just leave now.” I said finally, my head dropped, No matter how much the fire clan sang about glorious deaths, and how much I thought I desired a gore-y end on a battlefield. I realized I wanted to live. Even as a sad, unattractive, mortal, mountain girl. I still wanted to live. Especially now. Especially now that I’m-

My voice quivered, “I’m leaving behind too much.” I rasped out. “With my hellfire, I can give them a chance.”

“What does it really matter which tyrant holds the flames?” She tilted her head, “Do you think he would use it any different than what you did?”

The world around me went very still. Hellfire isn’t something I deserved either.

I begged her, “I know… I know I deserve my end.” I bowed to the divinity before, surrendering every sense of ego I had, “So please, Please” -

I thought of Rin and Kagome, and all those who had shown me so much kindness. They would all fall under his hand, hounded by my flames. The same flames I could have used to protect them. Even if I can’t change my destiny.

“I don’t have anything else to barter.” I replied, “You already have my life, so I can only beg this to you.”

“You can’t let Naraku get my flames.” I told her,

“I don’t care what you have to do to this body for that.” I continued, burned, eaten by animals, “Whatever brutal death I’m fated to tomorrow” I said, “Please, make sure it rids my entire existence, and I’ll pull my hellfire back into hell with me.”

There was a momentary silence, where I thought, she would start laughing again. But the Goddess just hummed curiously.

“Fine then, daughter of the hills.” She spoke, the voice ringing out hauntingly in the grove.

My eyes widened

“Tomorrow when death comes for you, I’ll allow you a chance.”

The Goddess beckoned her powers and magic shook the forest awake. I could feel the ancient, strange spirits of the forest peek over the shadows around us. Stirring from years of slumber to witness another prophecy.

Her white iris gleamed, “Just one.”

I stared at her in absolute silence. Just like the first time I had encountered her, the temperature around me dropped, making my ears ring painfully.

The tips of her lip curled, “I’ll give you one chance to change your destiny, where you can seize back your flames, return to a life of immortality.”

As I watched, the markings on her face began to glow, knowing what was coming I shielded my eyes from the blinding light. It still seemed to sear into my skin, like I had embraced a burning star.

“Daughter of the hills, death will come for you under the crimson moon.” Her voice boomed around me, “But as the blood moon rises for my feast, I shall grant you one final bargain. Take it, and you’ll find your flames again.”

When the light died, I was still on the ground, my kimono soiled from dirt and sweat. As I came to myself, I felt my heart hammer in my chest, a singular thought running in my mind.

Even if the earth splits open and the sky shatters around me, even if it was nearly impossible, even if I only had one chance, somehow, anyhow, I had to survive.

❧

“Wei!” Rin called out in the darkness and I jumped.

In the dark she looked like a little tent, sitting up on her knees the moment I walked back into the cottage.

“Didn’t I tell you to sleep?” I sighed,

The child looked at me expectantly, “I was thinking about what you said earlier.”

I shook my head, far too exhausted to think about this again, “Rin I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“Hear me out.” She persisted as I dropped down on the mattress beside her.

“Next time.” She told me, “When I see something, we can just run away together.”

She said it with such sincerity I wheezed. That did seem like a simpler solution.

“Don’t laugh!” Rin said, her fingers tugged the sleeve of my kimono, “Promise me.” She said seriously, “Promise me that the next time we’re in danger you won’t stay back alone.” her sound was barely was a whisper, but it hung in the icy air like a sword over my neck.

“Promise me that we’ll run away together.”

I stared back at her,

One chance.

I tried to give her a small smile. One

A fool’s bargain, yet a bargain nonetheless.

“I promise.”

❧

GUESS WHICH SLOTH JUST UPLOADED?????

#sesshomaru #rin #inuyasha #reader x sesshomaru #lord sesshomaru #sesshomaru x reader #inuyasha fanfiction #sesshomaru imagine

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embracing-the-ineffable · 8 months

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Good Omens season 2 opening sequence

I've been studying the gos2 opening credits/title sequence. Is there a place where people are dissecting it? If you know, please share, because I can't find it! And the sequence is a rabbit hole. Seriously, WHY all the rabbits??!? In space, in the audience, raining down on Jesus(?) and someone wearing a traffic cone hat(?), like you do. And who's the dancing person with blue hair and jacket? (Jim?) And the Aziraphale lookalike with headphones(?) over his hair? Plus so many more not in these particular rabbit photos. I have SO MANY QUESTIONS.

I do know about the s1 bunnies - both in the theater and in Aziraphale's magic show - but this is a lot of rabbit references for a season without any rabbits onscreen, even just to imply the magic tricks going on where we can't see them.

Edit: @nadjabea reminded me that Eric the disposable demon's animal is a rabbit! Maybe there's a connection?

Edit 2: I think the blue dancing person with the peacock feather is probably meant to be Jim at the ball:

Interested in diving further into all the Good Omens mysteries? I have lots more of my own posts plus Clues and metas from all over the fandom, here.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens opening title #good omens opening credits #good omens season 2 #renew good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens analysis

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linguisticdiscovery · 8 months

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Ways English borrowed words from Latin

Latin has been influencing English since before English existed!

Here’s a non-exhaustive list of ways that English got vocabulary from Latin:

early Latin influence on the Germanic tribes: The Germanic tribes borrowed words from the Romans while still in continental Europe, before coming to England.

camp, wall, pit, street, mile, cheap, mint, wine, cheese, pillow, cup, linen, line, pepper, butter, onion, chalk, copper, dragon, peacock, pipe, bishop

Roman occupation of England: The Celts borrowed words from the Romans when the Romans invaded England, and the Anglo-Saxons later borrowed those Latin words from the Celts.

port, tower, -chester / -caster / -cester (place name suffix), mount

Christianization of the Anglo-Saxons: Roman missionaries to England converted the Anglo-Saxons to Christianity and brought Latin with them.

altar, angel, anthem, candle, disciple, litany, martyr, mass, noon, nun, offer, organ, palm, relic, rule, shrine, temple, tunic, cap, sock, purple, chest, mat, sack, school, master, fever, circle, talent

Norman Conquest: The Norman French invaded England in 1066 under William the Conqueror, making Norman French the language of the state. Many words were borrowed from French, which had evolved out of Latin.

noble, servant, messenger, feast, story, government, state, empire, royal, authority, tyrant, court, council, parliament, assembly, record, tax, subject, public, liberty, office, warden, peer, sir, madam, mistress, slave, religion, confession, prayer, lesson, novice, creator, saint, miracle, faith, temptation, charity, pity, obedience, justice, equity, judgment, plea, bill, panel, evidence, proof, sentence, award, fine, prison, punishment, plead, blame, arrest, judge, banish, property, arson, heir, defense, army, navy, peace, enemy, battle, combat, banner, havoc, fashion, robe, button, boots, luxury, blue, brown, jewel, crystal, taste, toast, cream, sugar, salad, lettuce, herb, mustard, cinnamon, nutmeg, roast, boil, stew, fry, curtain, couch, screen, lamp, blanket, dance, music, labor, fool, sculpture, beauty, color, image, tone, poet, romance, title, story, pen, chapter, medicine, pain, stomach, plague, poison

The Renaissance: The intense focus on writings from classical antiquity during the Renaissance led to the borrowing of numerous words directly from Latin.

atmosphere, disability, halo, agile, appropriate, expensive, external, habitual, impersonal, adapt, alienate, benefit, consolidate, disregard, erupt, exist, extinguish, harass, meditate

The Scientific Revolution: The need for new technical and scientific terms led to many neoclassical compounds formed from Classical Greek and Latin elements, or new uses of Latin prefixes.

automobile, transcontinental, transformer, prehistoric, preview, prequel, subtitle, deflate, component, data, experiment, formula, nucleus, ratio, structure

Not to mention most borrowings from other Romance languages, such as Spanish or Italian, which also evolved from Latin.

Further Reading: A history of the English language (Baugh & Cable)

#Latin #etymology #linguistics #language #history #borrowing #lingblr #langblr

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

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I've been dreaming of the Undersea Advisor.

In life, there are many variables to account for. Ah, but variables can be manipulated.

He remakes the world in his image.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

There are several little glass containers, lined up in a neat row, on his work bench. He is the master, and this is his craft: pocket dimensions, each with a different biome bottled.

Here is a lush garden with enchanted roses and caterpillars that blow smoke, and a savanna where miniature beasts race about. A desert with its own oasis--a massive scarab running amok, a regal castle he had painstakingly constructed with a pair of tweezers for a peacock no bigger than his thumb... He had even somehow managed to create a sleek building blinking blue lights and a crumbling chateau overrun with moss and bite-size bats.

His current project is a bowl of salt water, a layer of sand decorated with seaweed and coral at the bottom. He had taken the liberty of tucking fake jewels, a plastic treasure box, and a model of a sunken ship in.

For flair, he chuckles to himself. All that's left is to find proper aquatic specimens to house in it.

From the doorway, Jade adjusts the straps on his backpack, making sure that they're secure, that his supplies are in order. His boots laced, his jacket buttoned, he marches out the door and into the wilderness.

The forest is quiet and without trees but is not devoid of life.

Instead of trunks, there are stems--plump, pillowy, in various shades of white and cream. They are wider at the base and narrower at the head, which gives way to fluted undersides. Gills, Jade knows, a very different kind than those of a merman.

The air is clean and refreshing, lightly washed with spores. Not visible to the naked eye, but at the right refractions of sunlight, Jade can see them dancing into shapes upon the wind.

Circular shadows are cast across the ground, belonging to the caps that tower far above him. Mushrooms--macro-sized--have taken over the feet of the mountain, making it a suitable hideout for his hobbies. Sunlight spills through the cracks between the clustered caps, forming golden pools along the forest floor.

Jade makes a game of hopping upon them, one by one.

It isn't long before he comes upon the stream that cuts through the heart of the wood. A thin and humble little thing, able to be crossed in a single stride of his long legs.

Jade drops his backpack and drops to one knee. He inspects the fresh water up close with a careful eye. It's clear and still at the edges, white and foamy in the center, where it flows the fastest.

His heart leaps when he sees it--a streak of silver darting by.

He kicks off his footwear and rolls his pants up, silently stepping into the stream. Jade is cautious about not splashing, to avoid making noises or movements as that would disturb the wildlife.

He stands there, watching. Waiting, waiting, for that next fish to pass.

He thinks he sees it, a glimmer laid deep in the water. He reaches for it, fingers grazing wetness, but does not complete the grab.

“You like that, don’t you? The feeling of being in control, a life dancing in your palm,” a musical voice rings out. “It grants you security, assuredness.”

His eyes flicker down. His reflection shifts in the churning water, but he can see its mouth moving when his doesn’t.

An obstacle—amusing.

Jade purses his lips into a patient smile. “Oya, does a pixie presume to know those who visit their forest?”

“I am no pixie. In this pool of tears, all is laid bare,” his reflection says, “and given truth.”

“You claim to speak the truth. If that is the case, then you take no issue with divulging sensitive state secrets?” Jade’s smile grows, turning sharp. “To demonstrate your veracity, of course. I do not intend to misuse the information.”

“I know that you lie as easily as you breathe,” the pool replies, “for I have knowledge of only the souls that gaze into me.”

“A shame. I was quite curious about your awe-inspiring powers. Alas, there are limits put on greatness. It appears as though a puddle can never match the ocean in size nor in bounty.”

His reflection is not irked by his needling. “If you wish to take, then you must offer up a piece of yourself of equal value.”

“You have said that I lie as easily as I breathe. Is the word of a liar worth its salt?”

“You must speak truthfully.”

“But if I am a liar, and you have assumed my appearance, does that not, by proxy, make you a liar as well? That means what was uttered earlier is a lie, and I must tell an untruth—which I have already provided.”

The reflection pauses, considering the logic. Slow horror dawns on its expression—stolen from him—and it glowers.

"Liar," the reflection bitterly spits. It vanishes into the frothing waters.

There's a sigh, then the shudder of a release that fills the forest of mushrooms. Something, somewhere, has shattered.

Silver fills the clear stream, coloring it one shiny, metallic shade. Fins and scales bat against his skin. Healthy, plentiful.

Jade plunges an arm elbow-deep, and--

He gasps.

Something latches onto his arm and violently tugs. He's brought face-to-face with his own shocked expression, droplets hissing at him.

The stream, Jade realizes, should not be this deep.

He resists, trying to throw his body weight back, but the force holds tight. The slimy grip tightening like a fist.

He does not to fully relish in the surprise, so rare a feeling for him, before there is another strong pull. Jade falls forward, eyes wide as the water hits him in full.

Slowly, slowly... he finds himself sinking into an abyss.

It's the sea, deep and dark, shrouded by black mist. A ship-shaped shadow looms, at the inky depths--and through holes punched in the hull, undiscovered treasures wink up at him. Chests of forgotten gold and gems, like stars blinking in and out of view.

He dangles, suspended, like a puppet left upon the stage that has closed for the night. The scene, the stands, empty, save for the vague shapes of coral and twisting tendrils of seaweed.

Something shifts among the plants, and Jade tenses, preparing for a fight.

A long shape darts by, and his gaze tracks. The markings on it glow teal, peering through the murk--he recognizes it at once, relaxing.

"Floyd."

The name bubbles up and breaks upon the surface of the stream.

His twin circles him, his weaving tail sending Jade's jacket billowing. One is in the body of a human and the other, in their true form.

Floyd wordlessly grins, showing teeth like knives.

Behind him, the shadows swirl--a mess of writhing, squishy limbs and agonized moans. Tentacles, tentacles, painting a canvas with darkness.

A voice calls from somewhere in the void.

Floaty, far away.

"... de....... ade..."

"Jade!!"

He snaps awake, drawing in a deep gulp of air. As if he had just arisen from a dive.

Jade is seated at his workbench, blanked on either side. "Floyd, Azul..."

"We came as you had instructed, but it appears that now is not a good time," his dorm leader remarks. "You were sleeping like a log when we arrived."

"So I smashed a window with a rock and we let ourselves in!" Floyd declares proudly. Azul casts him a wary look.

"Just so you are aware, I am not to be held accountable for any damages incurred," he says hastily. "It was entirely Floyd's idea--I warned him against it and had him sign a liability form to assume any and all fees, should he ignore my advice and proceed with his ill-advised plot."

"Pfft." Jade chuckles. "My apologies. I must have become so enraptured in my project that I neglected to maintain a proper sleep schedule. The fault is mine, so I will not press charges."

Azul sighs, relieved. "Now, back to the matter at hand. For what reason have you summoned us here today?"

"Ah, that." Jade holds up his fishbowl, beaming. "I wished to share this with you both."

"Mmm, what is it?" Floyd asks, peering into the container. His face comes out the other end of it stretched wide and distorted, like the result of a funhouse mirror. "Looks like just some water to me."

"Another terrarium, I suspect." Azul pushes up his glasses as he surveys the other containers on the work bench "I see, so you've made one each in the image of the dormitories at Night Raven College. This one must be Octavinelle."

He suddenly frowns.

"Wait a minute, what is this?!" Azul thrusts a finger at a round little octopus suctioned to the inside of the bowl. The area around it is clouded with wisps of black.

"Hehehe, looks like Jade was right on the money with this one. That's so you, Azul."

"I-It is NOT!!"

"Really?" Jade's brows lift. "As I recall, you were exactly like this, tears and all, when..."

"AAAAAAAAH, stop, stooooop!! D-Don't say it, I can't bear that!!"

Jade laughs--soft and musical--granting his wailing dorm leader that single mercy. His chest is warm and full, a feeling his lies don't come close to.

I believe I’ve found myself company that is much more entertaining than any world right at my fingertips.

It’s his truth, the only one he has told this entire time.

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