#and then she got possessed by a purple fruit
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If Penny had a nickel for everytime her immediate friends and family were involved in an ecological disaster, then she'd have two nickels. Which isn't alot but it's weird that it happened twice.
#penny being peony's daughter was insane#she's related to chairman rose#penny does not get any breaks in this franchise i swear#she got bullied for years#her father is overbearingly clingy#her uncle caused an ecological calamity in galar#her friend's dad has a time machine thats also causing an ecological problem#and then she got possessed by a purple fruit#someone get this child a warm blanket and some comfort fanfics stat#pokemon#pokemon penny#pokemon sv#pokemon scarlet and violet#pokemon the indigo disk#the indigo disk#mochi mayhem#pokemon peony#peony#chairman rose
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valeria garza headcannons
some silly head cannons of my wife
〘Sfw〙
had a emo phase when she was 12-14 and gets annoyed/embarrassed when people bring it up
Doesn't like dogs that much but had a pitbull she adored
Likes more savory/spicy foods over sweet
Has a small dumb tattoo on her torso she got when she was a dumb teen
She's a lesbian and she's known since she was 13
If anyone trys to scare her she'll just look at them with a blank stare annoyed or confused
Listens to traditional Mexican songs sometimes
She's an atheist
Her love language is acts of service and gift giving
She's serious but has a special place in her heart for her lover
Likes to cuddle but would never admit it
Not that big on PDA but like a to hold her lovers hand or wrap an arm around their waist when in public
Brings back things for her lover she thinks are neet and that they might like
Favorite color is purple
She's 5'8
Had long hair but cut it off during a identity crisis when she was a teen and has kept it short ever since
likes birds
Brings her lover cut up fruit as a way to say sorry since she has a hard time admitting she's wrong or saying sorry verbally
She m ay be a cartel leader but she takes care if herself. She has Thick, silly smooth hair that smells nice
She knows she can be a player if she wanted but she's not like that
〘NSFW〙
Rough in bed but her aftercare is nice
Not a one night stand kind of girl she likes to pamper and spoil someone
She likes to spank
"aw, is it to much for you" in a teasing tone and with a mocking pout
Has a 9 inch black strap, and a vibrator in her lovers favorite color
Very talented with her tongue and fingers
Kinks: praise, degrading, spanking, bondage, biting, edging, release denial, over stimulation, brat taming, crying, begging, worship (her), has a little of a breeding kink, and mild pet play
She will only bottom if her lover begs but is a power bottom and always ends up making her lover cum
Has a leash and collar for her lover with "valeria garza's plaything" engraved in to the fine leather
Safe word is red but it's not for her if yk what I mean
Not afraid to fuck her lover in front of her men in the cartel
Her lover has her initials engraved into their hip (with consent ofc)
Possessive when it comes to her lover
Adores seeing her lover covered in her cum
If her lover has a penis hand jobs under a table is a must for her
Has a lot of "toys"
Make-up sex is her go to but if that doesn't work she'll pamper you until you forgive her
Both ass and tits girl
#valeria garza x fem!reader#valeria garza#valeria mw2#valeria garza cod#valeria garza smut#call of duty#headcanon
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joel asks you to tell him about all the other people you’ve fucked over the years while he eats your pussy
im down bad
warning(s): explicit 18+, maaad dirty talk, daddy kink, cum play, possessiveness
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the instant he hears it he feels a smile spread involuntarily, hearing that bratty whining only grow more and more desperate by the lick.
“tell me again, sweet thing. repeat to me what you said and I’ll keep licking this wet pussy up.”
his eyebrows wiggle while he wipes off her juice with his thumb, head tilted to the side kneeling nice and snug right between her open thighs. looking at her expectedly, he resumes his favorite teasing of marking and sucking some hickies on her. a love letter etched into her skin to mark her just long enough to get hard for the next week catching glimpses of them until they inevitably fade.
by the time she gets around to following his rules and not just hopelessly clenching around nothing right next to his face, her skin is scattered in deep red and purple.
“I said that y-you’re the best I’ve ever had, no one else ever….ever—”
she trails off to aimlessly grind down lower to at least get some friction on his nose, or fuck, she’d even go for his chin. pitifully crying out to him.
“s’right babygirl, behaving so good. you keep singin’ to me like that. no one else eats you out, or fucks you hard as I do. and no one else ever will.”
as soon as he’s done whispering he’s buried himself back and dug right in, that shameless slippery tongue slurping her fresh neglected juice.
joel’s thirst was insatiable. he spent time smoothing over each side of her bulging clit. moans while his lips were still kissing hers, adding low vibrations. the wet smacking became obscene.
“mmm, baby I can taste how good you feel. this poor little pussy jus’ needed some more attention,” he says, nuzzling down as close as her skin would allow and slowly sucking the pulsing hood of her clit. “this pussy could never need too much love from daddy, baby. I’ve always got you. always. keep clenching down on me like that, fuck…. it won’t stop dripping…. mmm, that’s it. get that all over me.”
“yes, yes—need it so bad joel,” she nods, tear brimmed eyes squeezed shut and mouth stuck wide open. he’s enamored by the sight of her little blissed out expressions and motions, greedily guiding the tip of his tongue right back where it belongs. joel doesn’t mind one bit, almost chuckling as he grants her more of his mouth.
“bet a perfect pussy like this one hasn’t been treated right, babygirl. wanna worship it,” he proclaimed, pushing his tongue out and zig-zagging down her entire front. utterly dirty and depraved with her milky evidence still smeared on and around his lips. “wanna worship you.”
“please, just like that, just like that—oh my god, who taught you that?!” she squeals, full body quivering. her rosey cheeks flush and shine with a glowy dew.
he can’t help but flash her a mischevious side grin before taking another selfish moment to suck on her clit. he relished in the heavenly feminine howling and shaking when he pops it in and out of his sloppy lips.
“always dreamed of doin’ it. so once I got my first girlfriend I asked her to sit on my face and show me how she liked it. do that enough with every girl, bound to pick up a few things.”
“holy fuck I need to send her a gift basket later,” she heaves. joel can’t help but laugh, then sneaks down to quench his thirst with her wetness again.
joel starts to think. “what ‘bout you, huh? don’t think I’ll be sending any of the boys from your past any fruit baskets.” he scoffs, still light hearted enough. petting the smooth path going down to her inner thighs. she sighs and rolls her eyes at him, thinking she could leave it at that.
“uh, think we both can take a wild guess how those went. keep going, god dammit. why’d you stop?”
joel’s possessive nature starts to glare through his bravado. squeezing the meat of both thighs in both his palms, he maintains his stubborn grip and locks her eyes with his.
“want you to describe it for me. first time you let a cock slide in here,” he instructs. two of his pointer fingers push inside with slick helping smooth the way. she helplessly clamps down on him and doesn’t know where to start. “he still remember how lucky he was? fucking this tight, sopping, bratty little pussy?”
she shook her head, frowning with frustration at his efforts to stall her pending climax. “shit, I don’t know, don’t even fucking care at this point—“
joel interrupts her with a sadistic shrug as he twists and scissors his fingers. “well then, guess you don’t get to cum ‘til tomorrow morning.”
”fuck you, miller!” she spits out, grumpy and petulant. kicking her feet on the bed repeatedly before clearing her throat and thinking.
joel’s hooded eyes idly fade shut as he runs the slope of his nose all around her. patiently waiting.
“he… we fucked after gym class in his car after skipping. if I’m being generous for him, it was like, probably a three out of ten. you happy? ”
he smiles and laughs, lying his cheek down on one of her bare spread legs. “can imagine it now. little school girl goes to play a little hooky, being bad with her boyfriend. sure sounds cute. bet he didn’t go down on you like this first, though,” his saliva slick tongue flicks on the needy pulsing bean between her lips.
“fu-uck, no, not like this. never you’re—fuck, you’re my favorite.”
“ever sleep with any old men like me? they take one look at you like I did, then all’s they can think about is bending this over?”
his girthy knuckles squeeze her cheeks.
“joel…… my god….”
“answer me.” his tone left little to argue. the fat tip of his tongue wets her outer lips, teasing around her clit.
her head shook back and forth in misery, dancing on the brink to all but get herself yanked right back down by his endless torture.
“fucked this guy twice my age to trade for his guns. he was big, I’ll give him that. but didn’t know what to do with it. I ended up with all the work.”
joel doesn’t contain his urge to scoff in disbelief. “where did he cum? inside you?” as he murmured the question, the tip of his finger pecked inside, like he was pointing to demonstrate it to her. she closes her eyes and shakes her head, sighing helplessly.
“no, on my back.”
“dirty dirty girl, trading guns to get some old man’s cum all over your back. taking you, using you….” his heartbeat gets louder in his cock, veins popping out just thinking about it. to satisfy his aching hunger, he hums along her open cunt and sucks on her clit.
“finishing all over you…”
kicking and screaming, her tone is dead serious when she warns him to stop or she’ll cum. can’t take the flick of his tongue anymore, or the ghost of his lips wrapped around her clit.
he angrily spews at her to cum all over his tongue and she gratefully obeys, whining as her lower half pounds his wet warm mouth. more juices leak down the harder he sucks and licks.
he welcomes the salty mess splashing and gushing on his mouth. down below his dick wanted to steal his attention, drooling clear drops down his head setting his base. the grind down on the bed felt close to heaven, but not as close as hearing his name and watching her shake. he treats the act no different than if it were a buffet, stuffing his face with everything she had to give him.
it’s her that pushes him away first, weak and throbbing while she finished coming down. she doesn’t register anything after that. not even the desperate huffing and groaning coming out of the man’s breath while he gets himself going. he gets up on his knees and doesn’t waste any time to fist the head, looking right at her. fixated.
“turn around.” he commands.
“what’re you up to?” she slurs, lazily flipping over. still dopey, in and out of a daze, just the way he hopes to have her.
“marking my territory,” he answers easily, giving his thick base long strokes to warm up. she wiggles her body back and forth for him, spreading herself to give him another visual to get off on. it doesn’t take longer than a dozen harsh pumps before he feels the rush.
“now I’ll be the last one that got to cum all over this back.”
-
thank you for anons,love,reblogs,any interacting whatsoever could bring me to tears man. I love it
it’s been a couple weeks im alive tho 🙂
masterlist
#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller#joel miller/reader#joel miller x you#the last of us#tlou fanfic#ask#anon#pedro pascal
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An Ode to The King, Briana Irene Matthews
When I say I love this character, I say it with my whole chest. I cannot begin to express the joy I experienced when one of my fellow educators passed me this book and said “I’ve got a fantasy book for you, and there is a black girl on the cover.” I am a child of The Neverending Story, Legend, Willow, etc (Google if you need to) and brown faces were few and far between, if there at all. There are so many things I admire and appreciate about Bree Bree and the power she holds can’t be understated.
*Spoilers Ahead so Exit Stage Left if You Need To*
Choices
In a story where choice has been hijacked for so many of our faves, I love the choice she makes at the end of Bloodmarked. To choose herself. I know there has been controversy regarding this but fuck all that, she said what she said. The fact that black girls need to be perfect and make decisions that are equally as perfect no matter what they are up against is absurd. That line of thinking has real world consequences. I love that she tried to consult with elders, those that came before her. She seemed to be following this implied protocol that did not bear the fruit she’d hoped for.
When she says, “I realize now why Jessie’s mantra to call root didn’t work for me.” She said, “Think of the power you possess and the woman who gave it to you.” I smile sadly, “I used to think that woman was my mother, and through her, you. Tried it her way and it didn’t work. Because you all didn’t give me my power.” I kneel to face the streams, thrust my hands into the earth from which they came.
“I did.”
This was a hell of a scene because she is finally shutting off the noise of the outside world, the distracting chatter blocking her self actualization. Arthur, the ancestors, the Legendborn, and choosing Bree. Much like she puts the broken pieces of Excalibur back together, she is in a sense doing the same for herself (pain welded blade). It even bears a deep purple stone in the pommel. The color meant to speak to this pain, this literal and figurative bruising and beating she has taken. In addition, the choice to go with Erebus and the uncertainty that hangs there was pure fearlessness. As her character sheet says, she is intrepid, bold. The way she is written, you just know it is in her soul. As Tracy says in her dedication, For every Black girl who was “the first.” Black is capitalized here, emphasized, because we are often demonized for making decisions or having experiences that those that came before may not have had the courage or opportunity to step into. The First. In Bree’s line everyone ran and she decided to stop running and turn to face the unknown, whatever may come with her chin up.
In addition to being a clever badass, I loved watching how she navigated her relationships with Nick and Sel. Again, another hot button topic where folks are clutching pearls and clenching ass cheeks. I am not interested in “ship wars” but what did catch my eye was the way Bree allowed herself to be loved on. The safety and soft intimacy she received and craved from Nick in a time where her world had been completely shattered was beautiful to read. “I’m impressed, despite my still racing heartbeat. How does he do it? How does this boy navigate my emotions like a seasoned sailor, finding the clear skies and bringing them closer, when all I seem able to do is hold fast to the storms?” He is patient with her. The way he speaks, comforting and protective. I love that she had this! The giddiness at that age of meeting someone that makes you dizzy in the best way. I love that Bree allowed herself to experience the respite Nick offered. That relationship represents the light in her, hearkens back to a simpler time.
I also think Bree enjoys the challenge Sel presents. Aside from him trying to kill her in the beginning (and being an all around asshole), she always seems to find interest in him (her shadow side). “He’s dressed in black, as always, but his long coat is gone. His tattoos are on full display below sleeves rolled at the elbow. They wind down his forearms and wrists, and I can’t help but study them. I wonder how far they go and how many he has before I remember that I detest him and shouldn’t care about his tattoos at all.”
Bree is fiery (quite literally) and finds herself drawn to the darkness and mystery of Sel. In truth, she likes to stir the pot. When Vaughn is giving her shit about being Nick’s page, she intentionally fucks with him. “But I’m not going to disappear. And I don’t want to keep my head down. Instead, I’m going to give Vaughn a glimpse of who I really am, and show him exactly who I’m not.”
She then throws the haymaker, “You’re a bigot and a bully, Scheafer. You insult me because you think you know what I am capable of, but you don’t. I must make you nervous, though, for you to expose your insecurities about your odds of success in the tournament.”
Long story short, Briana Irene is with the shits! How many times have you had to check in a loser such as Vaughn, who in all their mediocrity, thinks they are superior? I love that she essentially says, “aight then.”
I say all that to say that I like that she is feeling her feelings. She can acknowledge and accept the safety and easiness of Nick, while also reveling in the mystery and chaos of Sel. Those two desires can (and do) live in the same body. I love that this is confusing for her and she grapples with it because, what 16 year old wouldn’t! Low key/high key, folks my age would grapple with certain aspects of that but again, her choices.
Bree is supposed to be complicated. At times infuriating. I find it strange however, when folks don’t give her the space she has earned to develop. So many of us Black girls are not afforded this space. No room to grow, change our minds, or choose a different path. She is grappling with grief and grief is messy, complicated. The vessel in which she entered the world ceases to exist on the plane of the living and she is floating in the darkness and uncertainty of that. “Your anguish is wrapped around your very heart.” Not to mention navigating racism, sexism, supernatural beings, and understanding her own body and power. That is a tall order. She represents multitudes of girls who were “the first” and I am so glad I get to witness her in all her flaws and greatness. THE KING. Rumble black girl, rumble.
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Absolutely probably not true stardew headcanons. Aka Stardew headcanons on crack probably
Shane is the Wizard’s secret child. How else was he able to make BLUE chickens? 🐓Magic obviously. It’s also why his hair is purple
Jas begged to have her hair dyed purple to match Shane because she looks up to him and it’s her favorite color
Mr Qi’s skin is blue because he drank too much Joja bluu. His hair is purple because he drank too much iridium snake milk
Mr Qi is always actively evading the authorities
Y’know what, maybe Shane just fed his chickens too much Joja Bluu and that’s why they’re blue
In that case, Joja Co is suing Shane for the misuse of the color Joja Blue
The hat mouse made Mr Qi’s first hat and now he considers them like his adopted child
The Hat Mouse is immortal™️ and purposely commits tax evasion, but it’s ok because they’re too cute to arrest 🐭
Mr Qi sends the Adventurer’s Guild letters on how many of what monsters the farmer has killed and that’s how they know for their monster slayer quests
Marlon broke the bus to Calico Desert because all his adventurers were dying in the Skull Caverns
Mr Qi and Marlon were once in a very brief relationship and now prefer not to talk about it 👍
Marlon has accidentally committed arson with the napalm ring before and Gil has banned him from using that ring
The reason why you can’t wear more than two rings at once is because you are legally only allowed to wear rings on your ring fingers, and wearing two on one ring finger will jam the effects
Emily is able to possess an increased effect just by holding a gemstone, like one that you would get from wearing a gem ring, except she’s just holding it
Emily constantly wears a ring of Yoba
Popular to contrary belief, Harvey doesn’t sleep
And he owns a hot java ring ☕️
Sebastian is secretly just a pile of frogs in an emo trenchcoat
Maru is singlehandedly going to start the robot revolution
So y’know how every bachelor has an unobtainable weapon except Shane and Emily because they were made bachelors later on?
So basically Shane’s weapon is “Shane’s Basket of Eggs” and Emily’s is “Emily’s Parrot Perch”
The farmer is just straight up a cryptid with no concerns for their health 👌
Warp and Rain totems only work because some magical being looked at the gremlin of a farmer and was like “Yeah, we should give that kind of power”
The Wizard accidentally killed the farmer with tree poisoning from the drink he gave them because he forgot mortals were allergic to trees, and then he had to quickly revive them before anyone got suspicious… And that’s why the farmer can see ghosts in the mines and Skull Caverns 👻
The farmer is too powerful. They can kill ghosts??? Also are all the ghosts they encounter just adventurers who died terrible deaths and are now just trapped in the mortal plane destined to die again? Is Grandpa trapped in the mortal plane too?? Can you kill Grandpa??? More at 12- 👉👉
That thing that escaped from the Strange Capsule now works for Joja
The truck driver and orange haired cashier at the local Joja live there and don’t have their own names. They are known as the Cashier and Truck Driver employees. No one remembers their old names because Morris stole them
Morris is currently trying to steal Shane and Sam’s names like he did with the other employees but it’s very tricky to do when they don’t work there 24/7 (yet)
Mayor Lewis takes a tax off of everything you put in the shipping bin without telling you
The old mariner that gives you the Mermaid’s pendant died on a rainy day 🌧
The cloaked figure at the Night Market that sells you a farm warp totem warps to your farm at night and dances around after 2pm whenever they visit the Valley
Harvey is gonna propose soon to the Night Market coffee man probably maybe not…… (with the hot Java ring too-)
Slimes are the polar opposites of Junimos
Whenever a tomato enters the valley, they are immediately declassified from being fruits from the sheer power of Robin’s tomato fruit salad hating carpentry aura 🍅
Why does Mr Qi have his own currency, gems, and fruit? Narcissism 🔵👉👉
The entire Valley and everyone who lives in it is cursed to be stuck in a year long (four month?) time loop where no one can age after reaching a certain point and its been going on for so long that everyone is just very tired, and that’s why they let the community center die out and why Morris moved in
Y’know that squeak sound Junimo’s make when they’re jumping and whatnot? That’s them saying Qi because they’re essentially like pokemon and so…
Theory that Mr Qi is just a blue Junimo who gained a lot of power and prestige, got into gambling, learned English, and grew up/evolved 😊👍
The Calico Desert is named so because it’s dry of cats
The farmer is somewhat immune to radiation
Cucumbers don’t exist in the valley solely to spite pickle makers
#most of this is a joke 👌. I was very bored on a Sunday afternoon#stardew valley#sdv#headcanon#my stoof#my writing#don’t @ me that the wizard say he thinks one of the villagers is his ‘daughter’. not son or child#I didn’t see that far when I made the crack headcanons ok?#shane#m rasmodius wizard#Jas#mr Qi#hat mouse#Emily#harvey#sebastian#maru#grandpa#marlon#Gil#mayor lewis#morris#farmer#old mariner#talk#coffee man#Demetrius#Joja#I saw some of the Stardew movie theater foods in my pursuit of knowledge and now I want some sour limes. rock candy.#and strangely black licorice for some reason?
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Here have a Nimona (the movie) drabble/oneshot type thing.
Also, this has some of my personal headcanons so yeah! Enjoy :>
Pink: Nimona
Red: Bal
Orange: Amb
Purple: Diego
Warnings: mention of homophobic family members, I guess Bal saying hell, and a not technically mangled turkey (it's not full blood and gore it's just ruffled up and a little shaken and still very alive)
- Bal and Amb are talking about who to invite to their Thanksgiving while they're at the store leaving Nimona stuck at home.
- "Okay but Nimona scares the absolute hell out of him!" Bal mentioned as he picked a fruit tub for their fruit punch. "Oh come on Bal! They're my nephew! I know him and Nimona don't get along after... Well... Her scaring them with her little... Weird... Demon child- thing-... But! I think Nimona and them should get to each other better." Ambrosius sighed. He knew that his cover-up reasoning wasn't convincing Balaster to let Diego come to their Thanksgiving dinner.
- It was up until they were in the car that Bal decided to bring it again. "Amby, baby... I know you have something on your mind." That's when Ambrosius broke. "Okay, okay fine you got me. So... You know how I wanted to invite Diego? And the reasons weren't exactly the best? I'm just come out and say it. Do you remember how Diego came out to our family as bi and a demiboy? Well, some of our family isn't all that accepting, and since it's Thanksgiving he's going to be surrounded by them and... I want him to feel welcome. Like they belongs."
- And with that, Bal immediately went to Diego's house and picked him up or... As I should say: snuck him out through his bedroom window.
- Once they got home told him to stay in the car until they talked to Nimona.
- They head inside and see Nimona in her wolf form with a mangled turkey in her mouth. She had her teeth wrapped around it's neck as if it were a squeaky toy. "Oh hi bosh!"
- "Nimona please let that poor thing go." Bal groaned as he pinched his nose bridge.
- Once Nimona lets the somehow still-alive turkey go the boys sit her down and talk to her about Diego.
- "Soo... Don't scare him by acting like a possessed little demon baby?" "Yup. We want him to feel as welcome as possible so no weird shapeshifty bs. If you want to shapeshift into something then go ahead... As long as the house stays intact and it's not meant to scare Diego."
- Once Nimona finally agreed to the ground rules they brought Diego in and formally introduced them to each other.
- After a couple of hours the two had finally gotten on good enough terms to start talking about interests and things along those lines.
- Some time goes by and all four of them are dancing to music and singing along as the turkey and other food cooks in the oven and stovetop.
- Finally once the food and drinks were done and ready they all sat down and said what they were thankful for.
- "I'm thankful for... The ability to shapeshift and... For barging in on Bal being Mr. Dark Edge Lord™ because if I hadn't I wouldn't have you guys." "I'm thankful that I my lovely family that's sitting right here at this table." "Heheh... What he said... And you Diego?" "I-... Uhm... I'm thankful for... You guys... because you guys made me feel at home when others didn't."
- Then they all dig in and have an amazing time together.
That's all! This was just a fun little thing I made while stuck at relatives' house during Thanksgiving because I didn't want to socialize :p
Edit: I've fixed the mistakes and minor adjustments to the writing after waking up and rereading it.
#drabble#oneshot#nimona#diego the squire#ballister boldheart#ambrosius goldenloin#thanksgiving#thanksgiving fic#thanksgiving drabble#kinda hurt/comfort#hurt/comfort#fluff#fanfic#headcanon#personal headcanon#color coded#idk man
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D'you mind telling me about Marek?I'm super curious about his lore!!
AGHH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK!!
Okay I haven't actually. Thought much about Marek teehee my alter Blaze is the lore guy I'm the . Kisses my favorite characters on the lips girlguy. BUT HERES WHAT IVE GOT SO FAR!!
OK this got rlly long my bad ToT putting under a read-more
Marek isn't from Megapolis [because I'm middle eastern so now she is too <3], he's not actually sure where he's from- all she remembers is arriving to the city as a teenager with something or someone urging her along and taking care of her .
This someone turns out to be a spirit- wolf spirit specifically, from thousands of years back into Marek's ancestry. He doesn't remember much either, only that he was called upon to the mortal realm to find a child, abandoned and crying, and he had to help. [Their ancestry and the spirit's origins are explored later on in s4 I'd saayy??]
^ some silly art Blaze made earlier :3 the design is a W.I.P!
The spirit starts out much more hazy, and is usually only summoned by Marek when he feels threatened- the spirit then takes over Marek's body, causing Marek's scar to glow, and her body to take on a more wolfish form :3
During the LBD arc, LBD tries to possess Marek as a way to get to Mei, but with Marek's body already holding two souls in one vessel, it overwhelms her and her consciousness is locked away, unable to be reached by even the spirit. The spirit fights off LBD's possession, but now he's in complete control of the body while Marek's soul remains imprisoned with LBD.
Uhh I haven't yet figured out how the spirit gains his own body but . It happens Somehow after LBD's defeat. Let's say main character bullshit <3 and he starts living his life outside of Marek- which allows them both to develop without the other! Starts out pretty rough but they get there :3
Also Mei and Marek's ship name is grapefruit :3!! Ik grapefruit isn't purple but shshsh it's ok im keeping Mei's fruit theme going with her duo/ship names. They both lowk start out horrible 4 each other because the way Mei and Marek talk about themselves only further perpetuates their unhealthy expectations of themselves- "if she's viewing herself in this way, and I think she's right about everything and pretty well-adjusted, then this way of thinking is obviously healthy!" type of deal
Blaze yet to decide on the spirit's name + who he's gonna date but . We'll get to that when we do proper ref sheets for them both :3 agahxhxh thank you sm for the ask im sorry this got so long TwT!! I think that's enough 4 now- you can ask any more questions if you'd like!!
#malik's asks#lmk sona#lmk oc#hmm should I do a blaze tag?? idk#blaze made up most of this im just here to kiss Mei tbh#OH IN CASE THE TEXT ON THE THIRD DRAWING IS UNREADABLE ILL WRITE IT HERE#marek: and my sister he was like-#mei: YOU HAVE A SISTER?!?!?!?#marek: well i mean hes not really my sister just some weird grumpy spirit thing#i think i made him actually? hes kind of annoying tbh- dont tell him i said that-#AH FORRGOT MY OC TAG#oc: Marek lmk#grapefruitshipping
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More about Aspen.
She's shy but really forward about her sexuality. I love that about her. Like, she'll get all mortified when asking if she can have a second slice of pizza when we're hanging out but she's totally calm about volunteering to eat me out. It's like it's never occurred to her that sex is something people can get embarrassed about and I hope it never does.
She's also an absurdly magical goat, though she can't really control it. You know how I said she can eat anything? I meant it. No matter what it is, it never hurts her, and her body processes it just fine. How long that takes and how much nutrition it gets her is apparently based on how big it is and not what it is? I pointed out to her once that that meant I could chain her up and feed her nothing but garbage and girlcum for weeks and she'd survive just fine, and she got so horny she fainted.
The other thing she can do is come back from the dead. I don't really get that one at all but I'm not about to take it for granted. I asked Astrid about it once (she's this girl I know who's really smart about magic shit) and she started talking about potential energy and my eyes glazed over and when I came to again she was talking about Norse mythology. But I guess all I really need to know is that I can fatten Aspen up and then eat her, and she'll come back skinny and we can start all over again.
Uh, what else. She struggles with self control sometimes? She gets a thrill from eating things she's not supposed to. Like, prized possessions, off limits stuff, big in sentimental value? Forbidden fruit to her. Sometimes I catch her being naughty and eating my favorite dice during game night or something like that. When she's bad I punish her with a quick plunge into my stomach acid. When she's a good girl and leaves my stuff alone, I reward her by biting and clawing her up all over first so the acid hurts way more. Girl's a grade-A masochist.
Also she's purple
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100 headcanons in LMK
1. Mk dosent get that scared in horror movies
2. Mei had purple and pink highlights at some point
3. Demon aging is a weird (Like how Redson is like 400, meanwhile Pigsy is 40)
5. Demon can live up to 200 years old.
6. Tang, Pigsy, Sandy, are somehow reincarnations of JTTW
7. Sandy and Pigsy are self proclaim brothers
8. Free noodles
9. Mk got his jacket with his 1st paycheck
10. Mei and Mk have been friends since kids
11. Mei and Mk are self proclaimed siblings
12. Redson drinks hot sauce sometimes
13. DBK once tried to make a cake for PIF as an anniversary present.
14. Nezha is banished temporarily in the celestial realm because of the fight with Wukong
15. Wukong likes drinking peach tea
16. Macaque smells like plums
17. Macaque has a part time job as an artist.
18. Sandy has a cat named Bajie
19. Mk has burn marks from that time PIF send threw him near lava. (Some accidentally got on him)
20. Mk's powers allow him to live up to 150 years.
21. Mk is lava resistant. It still hurts tho
22. Mk uses glamour
23. Wukong's lazer vision hurts his eyes like crazy.
24. Mk's clones turn evil is foreshadowing
25. Redson has black painted nails
26. Mei has green nails
27. Porty Mk has Rainbow painted nails
28. Pigsy has a small garden
29. PIF has a robot to order her Pigsy noodles.
30. Wukong spies on Mk regularly as a fly
31. Tang dosent drink coffee
32. Mei regularly gets her nails painted
33. Pigsy has a secret sweet obsession
34. Macaque has his nails painted black
35. Redson secretly sleeps with plushies
36. Pigsy is fluffy
37. Mk is half demon
38. All demons have secret horns
39. All demons teeth are either naturally sharp or gets sharp when becoming more unhinged
40. Mk's clones have demon ears
41. Artist clone is somehow the most strongest clone in terms in physical strength
42. Porty clone has earrings and dyed bits of hair
43. Porty clone is the smartest clone. But also one of the weaker ones
44. Evil clone's red eyes are result of Mk's bottled up emotions
45. Mk's demon half is monkie
46. Mk's clones are extremely amplified versions of Mk's bad traits.
47. Macaque wears eyeshadow
48. Mei is top of her class in high school
49. Wukong only eats hair and fruits
50. Delivery clone has the best defenses. Also he's an amazing chef (Like Pigsy levels)
51. Redson has a birth mark that looks like a burn mark.
52. Mei has multiple plushies of dragons
53. Porty clone doesn't sleep
54. All Clones tells alot of Mk's mental state
55. Sun Wukong's fur is soft
56. Porty clone is Mk's abandonment issues
57. Artist clone is Mk's perfection issues
58. Mk can handle spicy foods
59. Tang has extreme defense.
60. Tang and Pigsy are Mk's adoptive parents
61. Mk is buff now
62. Mei is a streamer
63. Redson secretly likes mango ice-cream
64. Mk has a terrible sleep schedule
65. Bai has a cat and frog obsession
66. LBD is somehow still aliv- err- here
67. DBK has alot of Chang'e merch
68. Chang'e is top 1 at moon cake
69. Tang is a horrible chef
70. Jin and Yin regularly puts drawings of bad reviews on Pigsy's, hoping that it will damage them. It dosent work.
71. Mk can't be trusted with a ball of jellybeans
72. Mei once drank like 5 bottles of soda
73. Sandy swears once in a purple moon
74. Spider people dead
75. Bai has 3 cats
76. Macaque has eyeshadow
77. Redson got out of school early
78. Mk is an art major
79. Mei calls Redson "Redbull" sometimes
80. Porty clone is Disco boy
81. Nezha is good at ice skating and normal skating
81. Nezha call rollarskates "wheelies" and or skates
82. Nezha and Mk are now siblings
83. Mei and Mk are called the Avocado duo
84. Bai didn't get LBD's full power when she got possessed
85. Chang'e is mega smart
86. Syntax was captured by spider queen
87. Yin and Jin often fight if silver or gold should be first
88. Mk is like 5'7
89. Mk is 21
90. Tang met Pigsy in highschool
91. Nezha is surprisingly good at the claw machine
92. Mei once destroyed a claw machine to get a prize
93. Mk got stuck in a claw machine
94. Mei dosent know how to play chess but shes surprisingly good at it
95. Tang gets cold easily
96. Pigsy is a ping pong champion
97. Sandy has a bread box that's shaped like a cat
98. Sandy teaches painting stuff
99. Mk is a heavy sleeper
100. Redson dosent know what Redbull is.
#lmkmk#monkie kid#lego monkie kid#lmk#lmk mk#lmk sun wukong#mk#lmk macaque#qi xiaotian#monkie kid mk#lmk mei#lmk nezha#lmk sandy#lmk wukong#lmk pigsy#lmk headcanons#Im still working on Leftover cake lmao#lego monkie kid headcanon
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Tallest Red sits in a comfy chair while staring out the window into space. He had a long speech a while ago and need some time to himself. He has already hailed his food service drone to bring him some bakery snacks and a large cup of fruit juice.
“After I’m done here, I’ll meet up with Purple and-“
The sound of the door opening made Red believe that his snacks have arrived. To his surprise, it’s not one of his drones but someone else enters the room. With them came a musical tune that spread around the room. The tallest tilt his head as soon as the figure stepped into view of the light.
“A vortian? Why are you here? You are not authorized to appear before a tallest without a He told her. This vortian wears a pink flowy dress, and a dark veil to cover her eyes. She said nothing to his question. Tallest Red lowered his eyes in focus. As soon as the music plays, the female begins to dance.
The Irken is mesmerized by how much graceful flow she has to offer with this little performance. The vortian said nothing after he asked who she is and how she came to wanting to entertain him, but she gave a twirl and then a curtsy before resuming. The female was definitely watching him through her veil. She can see the hungry eyes staring back at him. She moved around the room, showing off her skills. Twirling, leaping, swaying her hips in just the right angle. Then dropping into a split before making a backflip towards a mini machine. Turning off the music. This made the tallest clap his hands. n approval barley seen by others on this ship.
“That was an amazing display you put on for me. I’m sure you’ll be quite famous if you were to perform in front of a live audience. Don’t you agree….Eva?”
That sent a jolt through her spine. How did he know it was her? He couldn’t have. Eva touched her face then looked down to see her veil on the ground. The damn thing must have fallen off of her when she done the backflip. Eva looked up and saw that the Tallest smirked at her. He motion with his finger for her to come to where he sits. She fixed her posture first before walking over there. She felt a little timid.
“You look a little surprised that I’ve seen you without that coverup. Though I would have already guessed it was you under there just by the whiff of your scent.”
Eva climbed on top of him and smirked right back. “I was hoping it be a surprise until after I was done. This was suppose to keep you in the dark until I revealed my identity later. The mistake was on me.”
Red reached over to touch her but Eva stopped him. “what do you think of my performance?” She asked.
“It was….arousing~”
He answered with a rumbling purr in his chest. He wrapped his fingers around her small frame and gently pulled her closer to him. Eva can see how his eyes darken with lust. She knew she got to him now. Teasing tried to pull away from him but Red firmed his grip and a low growl escaped from him. Almost possessively. Not that she’a gonna complain about it. This is what she planned after all. Red lean forward.
“Do you love me, Eva?” He asked. Playing with the strap on her shoulder. The vortian played his game.
“I do not love you.” She told him.
“You’re lying again.”
“I’m not. I just think you’re attractive enough to fuck.”
“Bold of you to say that as if we haven’t already~”
Eva’s face flushed up after hearing that. Too late to kick herself now. The Irken leader suddenly grabbed her, turn themselves around until it was her being pinned to the chair. “What are you gonna do to me?”
“Just this.”
Red leans down and gave her a kiss on the head. Then he moved away and headed for the door. “We’ll continues this little act once I’m free from schedule.”
“Then I’ll be waiting in your chambers, my tallest.”
With that said, he was gone. Leaving Eva alone on the chair, feeling hot and bothered all over again. “He sure knows how to leave a girl hanging. I guess I’ll make my next move more….adventurous for him.”
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Talk about- Lucifer
-copaceticjillybean
Send “Talk about-” and a name for my muse to talk about that person! // @copaceticjillybean // going with all three since no muse was specified!
"He's really, really handsome. He reminds me of the pompadour boys back from my time. ~" Niffty giggles, fingers tapping on her cheeks as she smiles an uncomfortably wide, sharp golden smile. "He's dressed to the nines, he smells like apples, and he's got a really great smile. The old greaseboys back home don't hold a candle to the ultimate bad boy. I had my expectations, and he really beat some of them right out of the water - especially with how he beat the snot out of Adam during the Exterminaaaaatioooooon." Giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle. That was hot. Like, really, really hot.
"It's really too bad he's Charlie's dad. I'd love to take a bite out of that Forbidden Fruit. ~" Also the fact he's married. Most importantly though, if there was one thing Niffty respected, it was the honor rule of not fucking your friends dads. "I bet he even tastes like apples.."
Niffty, you're drooling.
".."
"His Royal Majesty, King Lucifer, is a respectable sort." That was a mandatory public opinion and she kept to it like an assassin to her knife. "His recent show of power was an excellent reminder to all of Hell in concerns of just who is running our 'Circus'. Sometimes, the lessers tend to forget. Fatal choice, that."
Short, sweet, somewhat dishonest, to the point.
“Lucifer Morningstar is my mate and my husband. He is King, and he has a mind made for the stars.” Lilith stated with a look of pride in her expression, eyelids low as the purple irises begin to harbor a blossoming glow. Lucifer is intrinsic to Lilith; there is no one without the other since the beginning of Hell. They are one another's breath and life's blood. Seven years are meant to be a blink in the eye of an immortal, but without Lucifer, it has been a tangible crawl.
“He's a kindred spirit possessed by the desire for creation. He brings his visions to life and bares no limitation — he refuses to be. I adore that endlessness about him.” Lilith hums as her fingers bridge together, supporting her chin. “My lover is infinite, in spite of the hand dealt by Heaven. I find it so ironic how they sought to extinguish his existence and belittle his value, and his actions have only made him grow into someone who is known, feared, and revered all around the Earth — and even in Heaven itself. They tried to knock him down, and they gave him a podium.”
“He is my equal, and he makes me laugh.”
And she misses him to a devastating degree.
#(( thank you for sending this in!! ))#copaceticjillybean#[ niffty; ic. ]#[ stella; ic. ]#[ lilith; ic. ]#[ asks. ]
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Breathcatching: The Twice-Drowned Saint by C.S.E Cooney
Posted 3rd February 2023 by Sia in Fantasy Reviews
I was so determined to write this book a review that did it justice, I actually ended up reading it twice – once over a period of weeks; the second time, I gulped the whole thing down in a single day.
I REGRET NOTHING.
For real, though: this is a book that lost none of its lustre on a reread, which is a noteworthy accomplishment all by itself. I wasn’t bored for a moment, even when I knew exactly how everything was going to go down; I still felt all the Feels; I still got thrill-shivers at the breathcatching parts. I still loved getting to see an older (‘older’; 38 isn’t actually old, but you know what I mean) protagonist who is equal parts cynical and hopeful, snarky and smart; I was still gleeful over the system of holy benisons-as-currency; I still adored Betony, from her platinum crown to her dusty feet. I still wanted to watch movies at the Quick and wander beautiful, fruitful Bloom and take a peek at what books a public library in a city ruled by angels might hold.
But.
Cooney routinely leaves me speechless, and The Twice-Drowned Saint is no exception – despite having read it twice, I have no idea how to describe, never mind explain, this brilliantly, beautifully bizarre little novel, with its properly unbiblical angels, a possessed police-force, and a sacred cinema of silent, black-and-white movies! What am I supposed to say???
I loved it. Obviously.
I was not completely sure I would, at first! I dove in as excited as I could possibly be, but I was not expecting first-person narration, and was a bit disappointed, since first-person makes it hard to justify the gleefully ostentatious syntactical and lexical extravaganza that is Cooney’s prose in third-person. But I shouldn’t have doubted her; she’s established in multiple short stories that her first-person writing still glitters and gleams and glitzes, and so it does here in The Twice-Drowned Saint. In fact, I might actually recommend this as a good place to start if you’ve never read Cooney before and are wary of the purple prose (a term I use not derogatorily but with love) that I’ve raved about in her other books, because here, the dial’s turned down on the logophilia, but the story still sizzles and sears with Cooney’s signature quixotic whimsy and vivid, fantastical weirdness.
There were two things every Gelthic citizen knew.
One: only saints could see the angels who ruled us.
Two: Alizar the Eleven-Eyed, Seventh Angel of Gelethel, had no saint. He hadn’t had one for a long time.
Now I will tell you what the angel Alizar looks like.
Neither of which would shine quite so brightly seen through the eyes of a lesser narrator, but Ishtu Q’Aleth is a main character whose personality and voice are every bit as uniquely distinct – and perfect for the story she’s telling – as were Maurice’s of The Bone Swans of Amandale or Mar’s of The Witch in the Almond Tree (short stories that can be found in Bone Swans and The Witch in the Almond Tree: and other stories respectively). But rather than being a shapeshifter (Maurice) or a witch (Mar), Ishtu is a little bit of both; a saint hiding in plain sight, having refused the call to serve the angel Alizar – at least, in the traditional way.
I was the Seventh Angel’s best kept secret.
And he was mine.
Instead, she and Alizar are secret besties, while Ishtu runs the only cinema in a literal city of angels and Alizar does his best to mitigate the bloodthirstiness of his peers, the rest of the angels who rule over Gelethel, a rhombus-shaped city surrounded by a ginormous wall of ice in the middle of the desert.
Oh, and there’s holy popcorn.
Are you intrigued yet?
There’s so much to love here – silent movies so lovingly described I wish I could watch them for myself; a crime family that is also a charity family; attention to detail that goes right down to Gelethel’s very unique currency; and of course, the thing I was most excited about going into this book: Cooney’s take on angels. As someone ardently following #biblicallyaccurateangels on every platform that lets you track hashtags, I loved the angels of The Twice-Drowned Saint, because although Gelethel’s angels are not made of wheels and fire, Cooney has absolutely captured the vibe of Eerie Alien Otherness, the visceral feel of terror-glory-horror-awe that imbues old-school angels, and channelled it through her own aesthetic.
The angel Alizar sometimes looked like a human-shaped paper lantern, or a sudden release of soap bubbles, or a cloud. He glowed on the inside as if he’d swallowed a hive of horny fireflies, and on the outside, he looked as if a toddler with a glue gun had gone wild with the craft buckets containing outrageous feathers, and twining golden vines, and trumpet-like lowers, and thin, prismatic insect wings.
Superficially, The Twice-Drowned Saint is about how 38yo Ishtu (I’m still so delighted to see an MC who is neither a teen nor in her 20s!) wants out of Gelethel – which is completely forbidden – to get her ailing parents the medical care they need in some other city (angels, apparently, not being fans of public health care). Due to belonging to what I can only call a charitable crime family, Ishtu and her parents could sneak out – but Ishtu doesn’t feel she can abandon Alizar, who is the least of the angels who rule the city, bullied by the rest.
So it’s a good thing another saint of his appears to get the story rolling.
Because really, The Twice-Drowned Saint is a book about a revolution, a massive subversion of our typical assumptions about strength and power, about the rewards of violence versus the rewards of open hands and open hearts.
“That ain’t weakness, Q’Aleth. Weakness is killin’ someone for their bread. Strength is splittin’ your last loaf with them.
It’s about many different kinds of faith, and the treatment of refugees and immigrants, about the hoarding of resources when there’s plenty to go around. It’s about movie-making and storytelling and upending the status quo.
Of course, the poets and the outlaws won against him in the end. That’s what they did, in movies. Maybe the only place they ever did.
And that’s why we need movies, Uncle Eril had once told me. That’s why it was such a great good thing–the day your father came to Gelethel.
Which is not to say that this is a preachy book bluntly bleating Moral Lessons at you; instead it’s scintillatingly electric, twisty and rich, fierce and gentle and sizzling. This is a book that bats its eyelashes at you and invites you in, then pours a cocktail of invisible wonders and sheer heart-full humanness down your throat; it’s sitting down in a theatre to a black-and-white silent movie and being blasted with sparkling jewel-tones and a full orchestral soundtrack instead. It always feels a little tongue-in-cheek, as though the story is giving you a wink and letting you in on the joke, even as it takes itself seriously with punctilious care.
Which, yes, sounds like a contradiction, DO YOU SEE WHY I’M HAVING TROUBLE EXPLAINING IT???
It’s so weird! It’s so wonderful! It is such a big glorious story somehow distilled into a powerfully short novel, and I am not doing it justice at all, but please believe me when I tell you it is marvellous.
As in, excellent.
As in, full of marvels and miracles.
Alizar the Eleven-Eyed was waiting there to welcome me.
He was there, in the firmament, in the clusters of star-like eyes and the spaces between them. He was also all around me, sitting in my bones: jewel-flame flower bells, feathering ferns, the fluttering of membranous wings, a warm and golden thing, like a lamp filled with fireflies.
Do I have any critiques? Sure, but they’re extremely minor; I found it a little too easy/obvious that Alizar, the one good angel, is also the only angel who is aesthetically pretty – the others we see are all quite horrifying and monstrous. And although the grand finale was appropriately goosebump-giving, I didn’t understand why A Certain Thing was necessary – even on my second read, I didn’t catch any explanation or follow the reasoning.
You know, you gonna be a poet, you gotta get yourself some ink. In the real world, poets are head-to-toe tattoos. ‘War flowers,’ we used to call ’em, in Rok Moris.
But I really don’t care, because literally everything else is freaking EPIC. The surreal, wildly imaginative setting and worldbuilding; the pretty incredible complexity of each member of the cast and their relationships to each other (the uncles!!!)(no for real though THE UNCLES!!!); the frankly ridiculous number of times this book took me by surprise – both in terms of big plot twists and itsy-bitsy details–
And, of course, Ishtu herself.
He was like a cricket some kid had poured diatomite over. He was a murderer. A fanatic for the angels. Worse, a teenager.
Oh, Ishtu. *happy sigh*
In short? Yes, I loved it. Obviously. And I will be reading it again – not least because I caught two Easter Egg nods to Saint Death’s Daughter and Bone Swans, and am sure there are more that I missed!
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💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss
"Ah, someone's painted a new sign! Let me see. 'Gage Acquisitions, Free Company. For Hire, at Lavender Beds, Gridania.' So this is where our sleeping princess lies, although, I must admit, it's far from the misty towers written of in legend. You don't happen to have a fierce dragon atop the roof? Breathing fire and hoarding piles of gold?"
Minti shook her head at Krile Baldesion, the former Scion who'd joined her for lunch. To be honest, it was more of a spur-of-the-moment meal, two colleagues crossing paths out on the free company's lawn and wanting to do more than just say hello to each other. "Do dragoons count?" she asked with a playful smile. "They've a habit of being greedy. Always leaping off the roof, wings and all, to snatch their prey. I can't say they're always successful - they usually end up inspecting the grass." Krile chuckled. The jest wasn't Minti's best, she knew, but at least it got a laugh.
A sudden downpour forced the two to take shelter in the small flowered pavilion across from the House. "Serves me right for speaking ill of our armored friends," Minti said before sitting down.
Today's lunch was a real hodgepodge of cultures and cuisine. Two bowls of spicy Thavnarian curry and naan rested uneasily with slices of naturally sweetened Archon loaf. Three black-and-white sugar cookies did their best to cozy up with a bottle of Foundation Red fetched from a hidden reserve. Also, in a well-intentioned attempt to steer the meal towards proper nutrition, there was a fruit bowl, with fresh purple grapes from Labyrinthos, quartered strawberries, and chunks of La Noscean prickly pineapples. It wouldn't take a culinarian to decipher what the friends brought to the table.
"Spicy curry, Minti?" asked Krile. "I was sure you'd want more sweets in your diet." She loaded a small plate with equal helpings of fruit, curry, and Loaf. "What with your chosen name and all." Minti avoided the Loaf entirely, opting for curry, naan, and the sugar cookies. "You sure you don't want some fruit? The grapes were hand-picked this morning. Entirely organic, juicy, and in just the right shape for consumption, that is to say, near perfectly cylindrical."
"I am not a child, Krile. I eat what I please," Minti replied with mock annoyance. "Although…fine. I'll take the grapes. You've convinced me."
"Have I?" Krile grinned, like she'd won a debate without even trying. "You don't sound convinced. But, small victories, I suppose."
Conversation was mixed, for the most part, with Minti recalling the most memorable parts of the expedition to Eureka, and Krile sharing recent happenings with the Warrior of Light. Just old friends catching up, having a good meal in the rain.
Sharing the last of the wine.
Reaching over the table to examine each others hands, remarking on each others' "lifelines," with Minti calling on her half-remembered astrologian training to help her read.
Minti moving over to Krile's side of the pavilion and gingerly putting an arm around her friend, putting caution to the wind. Tipsily playing with her hair, a wide smile on the viera's face.
Minti leaning down to put her nose against Krile's, both friends giggling and smiling in the rain.
A pregnant moment. A tender look. A nod, a whispered "Is this what you want?"
"Is this what you want?"
"I don't want to think right now."
"But you're thinking regardless, dear. And, I'm saying yes, by the way. It's okay, Minti. You're safe. We're safe. No one is going to get upset, no one is going to hurt you. No one is taking you away from here."
Krile squeezed us. We appreciated this, this comfort.
A brush of lips against her lips. Impulsive. But feeling right, in this moment. She said it was safe. It was okay.
Her lips were soft, and her breath was warm, like Suzaku's. But not like her.
Caring. Not possessive. What Minti needed in this moment.
We need to feel safe -
We are.
"Take as much time as you need. I'm here. It's just you, and me, and the rain."
Time passed so slowly between these two old friends.
It was a good lunch.
#final fantasy xiv#final fantasy 14#final fantasy oc#minti wol#final fantasy viera#minti chocolate#ffxiv#answered asks
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read on ao3
*
Kaz is drunk.
He cannot remember the last time he was drunk, but he is now, without any doubt; the room is swaying slightly in front of his eyes, objects swimming in the buttery glow of the chandelier above his head.
He leans against the back of his chair and groans.
Inej just sends him an amused smile from the opposite side of the table. She fills her glass with clear Ravkan vodka and takes a shot with her head thrown back. Kaz tries to focus his eyes on the exposed line of her bare throat, on how it moves when she swallows.
The bottle is almost empty. He could swear she drank twice as much as he did, and yet she still looks sober, at least compared to him. Her speech is not slurred, her hands as steady as always.
But her laughter comes easier, flowing out of her now and then in quiet bursts of giggling.
“How do you hold your liquor so well?” he asks, hoping that the words he intends to utter are the same as the ones that actually come out of his mouth. There is a strange buzzing in his ears. “You’re so – tiny.”
Inej reaches out and snatches a sugared orange slice from the bowl on her left. Jesper brought them a whole box today, along with the bottle of vodka that now stands empty. Why did he do that? What was the occasion?
Ah.
Their anniversary.
“I grew up in Ravka.” She munches on the fruit happily. Kaz spots a couple of sugar crystals sticking to her lower lip, and he has to snatch the wrist of his left hand with his right so as not to reach out and brush them off. “With a whole lot of older cousins. And then I got plenty of practice. I was better at my job after Heleen poured a couple of shots of something strong in me.”
A funny thing had happened throughout their first year together: Kaz started to forget.
He started to forget where they first met each other. The purple rags, fake jewelry, heavy kohl around her eyes – they all blurred in his memory. He would see her stretching in the garden, reading in the library, making tea in the kitchen. He would see her in his office at night, a cat on her lap, hair braided. And it would be as if she had always been there, from the very first moment he’d stepped through the threshold himself.
And then they would get ready to go to some social outing, and Inej would float down the stars in a breeze of lace and curls and diamonds, her gowns as eye-catching as possible, and the bubble would burst. She was the beautiful Suli Lynx on his arm once again, nothing more.
She pours the last bit of alcohol into her glass and takes only a sip, washing away the remaining sugar glaze. Kaz doesn’t know what possesses him to do what he does next.
“A truth for a truth, Inej?”
Her brow shoots up. “I don’t think you really want to spill your secrets now.” She gestures at how he’s sitting, barely upright and disheveled, colarless. “But as you wish.”
She gulps down the rest of vodka in her glass and leans towards him with her elbows on the table. Her eyes glimmer, and something hot crawls down Kaz’s spine.
She doesn’t look drunk. Just dangerous.
“Where are you from, Kaz? Truly. Spare me the ‘my mother is Ketterdam, my father is profit’ bullshit, Jesper told me all about it.”
Kaz almost groans. When he was young and stupid, he used to spew such cocky buffoonery easier than breathing – but then, Jesper hadn’t been much better.
“Did he tell you about his stupid fucking pick-up lines? He better be thankful he’s handsome. He was going around the Barrel calling himself a ‘love doctor’ and promising to mend all aches with his magic cock.”
Inej almost snorts with laughter at that, but manages to school her features into composure. “We are not talking about Jesper. We are talking about you. Where are you from, Kaz?”
The room continues swaying. Inej is swathed in the same hazy, golden glow as the rest of his vision. She looks so fucking beautiful with her hair in a braid. For the thousandth time, Kaz imagines how it would feel to take hold of it and unweave the strands, letting them spill through his fingers.
“Do you really want to know?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t, would I?”
It was all so long ago. Kaz closes his eyes. He cannot look at her when he’s speaking; she’s too distracting.
“I was born near Lij,” he says at last, the name of the town as strange in his mouth as if he were speaking a foreign language. “It’s a farming town in the countryside. We had a farm. It was my Da’s farm, and before him, his Da’s, and his Da’s, and twelve fucking generations down further.”
When he opens his eyes, Inej is watching him in silence, her mouth slightly parted.
“So you were a farm boy.”
“A farm boy indeed.”
“It was only you and your father?”
He shakes his head. “A truth for a truth, Inej. You have already used up your question.”
He cannot have her asking him about Jordie. Not when Jordie has been quiet in his head for so long. Not when she is so beautiful and watches him with such soft eyes. “My turn.”
She shakes her head slightly with a sigh. “Go ahead then.”
Kaz knows it’s a mistake before he even opens his mouth to speak. But he is just so curious, the curiosity burning underneath his skin, drumming in his bones. He hasn’t felt such a desire to know something – to possess knowledge just for the sake of knowing – in so, so long. It’s irresistible.
He knows it will hurt her. He asks her anyway.
“Why don’t you pray anymore?”
The smile slides off her face like a splatter of blood from the wall.
She blinks slowly, straightening to lean against the back of her chair. “You really want to know?”
It’s a chance to back off. To stop twisting this knife.
Curiosity burns his insides like vodka.
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know, dear.”
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The High Priestess
The High Priestess sits in front of a thin veil decorated with pomegranates, though for some reason the imagery has always reminded me of peaches split open with the pit showing... The veil represents the separation between the conscious and subconscious realms, that which can be seen and that which cannot be seen. The veil’s overall purpose is served, keeping casual onlookers out. Only the initiated may enter. The pomegranates symbolize abundance, fertility and the divine feminine. They evoke the memory of Persephone, who ate a pomegranate seed in the underworld and was forced to return to the underworld for months at a time for the rest of her life. On both sides of The High Priestess stand two pillars, marking the entrance to this sacred, mystical temple. One pillar is black with the letter B (Boaz, meaning ‘in his strength’) and the other is white with the letter J (Jachin, meaning ‘he will establish’). The black and white colors of the pillars symbolize duality, between the masculine and feminine or darkness and light, proposing that knowledge and acceptance of duality are required to exist within this sacred space. The High Priestess wears a blue robe with a cross on her chest, as well as a horned diadem (a pretentious way of saying a crown), all serve as symbols of her divine knowledge and status as a divine ruler. In her lap, she holds a scroll with the letter TORA, signifying the Greater Law. It is partly covered, signifying that this knowledge she possesses is sacred knowledge. This depiction in the card demonstrates to viewers that the knowledge that The High Priestess has will only be revealed when one is ready to look beyond the material realm. In addition, the crescent moon at her feet symbolizes her connection with her feminine side, which provide her with her intuition.
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Hi all. Long time no talk. Life really swept me away for a while and I had only been able to write bits in pieces of my life down in my diary.
A lot has happened. I’ve discovered a lot; and not just academically.
The apartment that I told you all about last time I wrote is now fully furnished. I’ve got a lovely patio set that I sit out and read on quite often. When I’m lucky enough, I watch the sunrise and the sunset there too. I found this really cool desk off of Facebook Marketplace which is a repurposed vintage window frame. It’s this beautiful sharp shade of blue. I have a comfy yellow desk chair to sit and work in as well. I hate the color combination of blue and yellow for obvious reasons (go green) but it compliments my yellow night stand well. I’ve also got a hammock with shades of purple, pink, green, and white. I like to eat fruit and sway in it. I also installed some colored lights which has made the place feel a lot more vibe-y. Oh, and I’ve got some cool posters from Tabitha Arnold too. Y’all should check her out and support her! She’s a fantastic artist.
Speaking of artists, here are two more collages that I made for the class I'm taking:
My plants are doing well. I’ve resurrected my mint plant back from the dead multiple times. My rosemary, sage, rose, and swiss cheese plants have held up well. I’ve also added a jade plant, a bamboo plant, some orange flowering plant, and an inch plant to the mix. I want to get more but I’m trying to practice self-control…
I chose the high priestess card though because it’s the card I feel most connected to right now. I feel much better in trusting my own intuition these days. The summer had so many twists and turns to it and boy, did I learn quite a bit. My research-oriented brain forms these hypothesizes and after time passes and data is gathered, I find that I knew things before I ever even had the proof. It’s funny how it works like that.
Actually, we’re just coming out of the winter and entering summer here, but in my mind, it’s fall. It feels like fall. In the nine months that I’ve been here, I’ve lived through my winter, my spring, my summer, and now I’m beginning my fall.
The winter period of my life here was nice, I got to live high up on the volcano and lived in a still matter until my spring came and I began to thaw. In spring, I dug up my roots and planted seeds elsewhere. My growth was slow and then before I knew it, summer came. It was intense. When it got to be too much to handle, I fled home.
The week I spent back in the states was just as transformative as these past nine months; I really saw things from a different perspective being back after being away for as long as I’d been gone. It felt good to feel the familiar though. It felt good to see people and to be around those that I could trust, not just through a screen like I’d grown accustomed to, but in person. It was such a relief to feel the familiarity of family. I was so happy to eat a Greek salad, made the right way, and to hike around Cranbrook. It had just rained, and it was so misty, quiet, and peaceful. I was so happy to drink palomas at Amici’s and then Diet Coke (none of that Coke Zero bullshit) at 24 with Sam and Clayton. It felt like old times. My train ride to Chicago was rough, but my seatmate was kind. I felt so much joy when I finally got to see everyone in Chicago. Nolan and I got lunch at Nookies and we almost melted in the outdoor seating section. Casey and I had a lovely walk and we went to see a psychic. We celebrated my tether’s 24th which was a blast. Nolan and I also got Indian food and sat out by the fire in the middle of the night before I had to leave to catch my flight. It was so good to be with them and it was so hard to leave. The psychic told me that I’d meet someone very important to my journey named Micheal, and my Uber to the airport ended up being named Micheal, so can we really say psychics are scammers?
When I got back to El Salvador after being in the states, I hit the ground running. I kept busy and did as much as I could in the name of research.
And before I knew it, Sarah came! Our time together was interrupted by a machista who’s actions were as reckless as his words… Again, the psychic I saw in Chicago ended up being right about another thing… But nonetheless we found joy in the little moments and created memories that will last a lifetime. It was hard to say goodbye to her when she left.
The next day I started substitute teaching AP Comparative Government at a bilingual school. It was quite the experience! I did that for two weeks.
Funnily enough, those two weeks were also extremely transformative. I forced myself to grow up, in a lot of ways. My last day subbing, Evelyn, some girls affiliated with the CIS, and I went to the beach. We had a lot of fun. I made us quite the pasta dish with ingredients that we managed to gather on the trek out.
Since then, I’ve just been doing touristy stuff, doing more research stuff, working on my final paper for my class, and looking for jobs. I went to a networking event held by the embassy, and it was actually a lot of fun. I got to catch up with some other Fulbrighters and laugh about life.
Going back to my metaphor, and how I’m in my Fall Era ™, some of the seeds I planted in the spring have finally begun to bear fruit. I got into the graduate studies program that I applied to at the UCA! For the next three or so years, I’ll be working towards my master’s degree in Theology… Which is… So ironic and crazy given everything… But it’s the path I’ve found myself down and I feel really excited about all that there is to come. I’m also letting go of a lot of things like the trees let go of their leaves this time of the year. It feels so good to just let some things fall away from my life and to cultivate space for new growth in the coming seasons. In the past I’d be more melancholy about it all, but it feels like this weight is being lifted off my shoulders and I’m so thankful to be in this phase of my life.
I think that’s pretty much it? Other than that I’m just getting ready to head back home for the holidays. But I have a flight back down here scheduled for January 7th so I won’t be gone from here long. I’m excited to see all of you guys back home. And I cannot wait to be cold for once instead of always being hot!
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journal entry for today,
My prose reads like thousands of little ribbons unraveling so very sweetly. Every thought is something smooth; if you dipped your fingers into them, they would ripple iridescent. This morning, on my way to university, I took a look at the grass, which was vibrant green, and I marveled at each little sparkle pearling on each little strand, like beads of blue morning sunlight. This is where the divine sleeps. Holy water. I crack my fingers, I render them supple. I remember my mother saying the most beautiful hands she had seen belonged to one of her children, me; I remember my siblings’ cousin telling me I got my hands from who he believes is my grandmother. I remember, when my mother told me my father was somebody I never knew, asking her about my hands, where they come from, and she told me they came from her. My height comes from my father. My hair comes from my father. My eyes come from my father. My lack of soul comes from winter.
Judith declared that God manifested Himself through her hands, the hands of a woman.
My fingers are always so cold and stiff and trembling. They crave gentleness, warmth. They are repulsed by unwanted touch. My fingers are sacred. When I offer my hands, I offer one of the layers of my intimacy. It is a gift. I want to present my hands, give them up to be caressed and admired. A kiss on the knuckles, easing into trust. I want to hold with this subtle tenderness, this supple caress, because I want to hold much sweeter than I behold. I want someone to take notice, how the moon-kissed sunlight shines so bright on my hands and renders them translucent. How my touch is fleeting, how it carries my calligraphy, my craft, my muscle memory, and how it writes itself on its most longed for surface, a loved one’s skin, like my prose, like thousands of little ribbons unraveling. so very sweetly. How water drops from my nails after washing. This is where the divine sleeps. Holy water. Counterculture—it’s contradictory.
I went to day camp at the museum when I was thirteen, obsessed with Lana Del Rey and Marina and the Diamonds. There was a bitchy little gay boy who hated on everybody; he said of me that all he liked were my hands. An odd but still cherished backhanded compliment. From May of 2022 through June of 2023, I slept next to a lonely and miserable man to whom I offered my hands; he rejected them on account that they were cold. The temperature of his body was always so warm and welcoming, but his spirit and muscles recoiled from my touch. I stuck my hands between my thighs.
All that emits light is holy, and all that takes on a circular shape is mystical. I own forty CD’s. I especially like eating from a bowl. My favourite metro station is Peel, with all of its circular ceramics by Jean-Paul Mousseau embedded into the walls and floating floors. Witches work best in circles because women’s histories operate in cycles. Circular shapes are infinite. Women summon from them. The moon is eternal. Street lights are her daughters. Grapes are the sweetest fruits, blueberries are angels. Ladybugs are feyries, and those who carry exactly seven dots wear the burden of Mary’s sorrows. Eyes own, seize, and possess. They are simultaneously window and mirror, a paradox. A classmate of mine told me my eyes were baroque. My eyes are empty. There is only one path, and it leads to the ferris wheel.
I always watch my step, and I’ve just seen a butterfly resting on the sidewalk; I kneeled right then and there, because catching such an ephemeral creature immobile is the rarest experience. Lace fabric is a pastiche of the wings of a butterfly; it tries to replicate the delicately carved veils and their perpetual apotheosis; what it can’t emulate is the hypostasis, that of weightlessness. This butterfly, she was beautiful, showing off her wings for me and letting me take note of the purple bleeding into orange, which reminded me of myself, and of October by James Tissot, which hangs on a lilac wall at the museum. It reminded me, also, of the leaves turning copper; as she lay there, shining her brightest, iridescent, waiting for someone to step on her, she served as a memento mori. Nature morte.
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