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palioom · 9 months

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bull ride

summary: out at a bar, jack watches you ride a mechanical bull and he can't wait to go home so you can ride the real thing.

pairing: jack “whiskey” daniels x f!reader word count: 2.0k warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n (but a lot of nicknames); some swearing; dirty talk; unprotected p in v; public sex (kinda); spanking; jack being lowkey cringe

• masterlist •

This had been supposed to be just a nice little evening out at the bar in town. Just a few drinks, some food and each other's company.

What Jack hadn’t expected to happen was to watch his girl ride a mechanical bull while he had the hardest boner of his life. He hadn’t known that the bar had installed one of these things recently and he also hadn’t known that she was quite good at riding it.

Though he did know she was quite good at riding other things.

Jack watched her from his place at their table, sipping his whiskey as she was thrown back and forth, almost effortlessly moving with the mechanical beast. A laugh on her face the whole time, he swore she gave him a nasty little look whenever she faced him again, paired with a wink.

A wink that only made his dick throb harder.

Adjusting himself in his jeans, he stared at her bouncing breasts without any shame, a small hiss leaving him as he imagined her riding him like this. Moving back before she slid to the front again, pretending to wave a cowboy hat around with a loud laugh while the people around her cheered her on.

What a goddamn sight that was for his old cowboy heart. Seeing his girl ride a damn metal bull was as close as he’d ever get to see her ride the real thing.

She lasted an impressively long time, almost a minute long before she eventually got thrown off. Giggling and laughing all the while, her hair tousled and her face red when she came back to him. Adjusting her clothes as she walked.

And knowing immediately that he was horny as hell as she sat down opposite of him, the biggest grin on her face.

What a teasing little thing she was.

“I kinda wanna go again.” She said, sipping her own drink. The twinkle in her eye was playul, letting his blood boil hot.

“I know a different bull you can ride at home, sugar.” Jack replied with a wide grin, his dark mustache stretched wide over his white teeth. He shifted in place, his cock uncomfortably straining against the zipper of his jeans. “That one’s gonna be even more fun.”

A grin that matched his spread on her features, emptying the last of her drink while waving someone over to pay.

They had barely made it a quarter of the way home when he had to pull over, grabbing her by the chin to pull her into a hungry kiss, his fingers digging into her skin. Her hand reached out to palm him through his jeans, a low groan escaping him and tumbling right into her mouth.

He reluctantly pulled back, only to motion for her to get out and get into the truck bed of the Bronco. Needing her on his dick right now, riding him like she had that damn bull. The image still flickered in front of his eyes, the way she moved on that thing, like she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

“Wanted to be a cowgirl too, huh?” Jack asked, when he sat down at the edge of the truck bed, his hands on her waist pulling her closer. Their lips met again, his tongue slipping into her mouth while her arms snaked around the back of his neck, almost knocking his hat off of him.

“Maybe.” She giggled in between kisses, feeling his hands move under the hem of her shirt, his fingertips ghosting over her hot skin.

Who would have known this would get him so hot and bothered? Just by holding onto that thing like her damn life had depended on it.

Well, in a way she definitely had known. It was one of the reasons she had suggested this bar over the other ones they frequented.

“Let’s see how long you can last on this bull, pretty cowgirl.”

His hands moved to her jeans, working the button open before pulling down the zipper. Thank fuck it was summer, Jack really couldn’t have waited all the way home if it was any colder than right now.

Her pussy was already wet when he let his hand wander into her pants, rubbing over the slick, wet spot that had formed on her panties. She whimpered against his lips, breaking from him to look down at where his hand vanished, finding her clit through her underwear and pressing against it with one thick finger.

Languid movements, chuckling at how her breath hitched in her throat and her hips bucked into his touch. Rubbing over it again and again, enjoying the sweet sounds that left her, gasping and moaning, her feet shuffling apart.

“Jack, please.” She moaned, her lips finding his again in a sloppy kiss, her hands cupping his cheeks. “Don’t tease me, please, baby.”

His finger pressed down harder before he moved his hand back, biting her lip when she whined in protest. Going from cocky to putty in his hands so quickly.

Such a sweet thing, helping him take off her pants, her own hands palming his hard cock, making him groan.

“You’ve been teasin’ me the whole time you were on that damn thing.” He said, yanking her underwear down her legs while she continued kissing him. “C’mon, darlin’, you know this bull needs that cowgirl to ride him.”

A giggle left her, helping him to quickly work open his pants and move them down far enough over his ass that his cock sprang free. Hard and angry, in some desperate need for attention.

Jack hoisted her up, her legs straddling his narrow hips. He really didn’t care that they were on the side of the road and any passing car could see them do this, they were practically in the middle of nowhere anyways.

Taking his hat off of his head, he placed it on hers with a smirk, his hand finding her hips again and squeezing the warm flesh hard. How pretty she looked like this, watching her take his cock in hand to line herself up with him before she slowly sank down.

A guttural sound left her, enjoying the way he stretched her open more and more with every inch, until she sat in his lap.

“Atta girl, lookin’ so pretty takin’ my dick.” He chuckled, giving her ass a sharp smack which made her gasp. “C’mon, show me up close how you rode that thing.”

As she started to move, bouncing in his lap while bracing herself on his broad chest, he leaned back onto his elbows, enjoying the show. Mesmerized by how his dick vanished inside of her tight pussy over and over again, glistening in the low lights.

It made it hard to not just cum instantly, her perfect tits jiggling with every movement, her head thrown back. All while she kept making those noises, unabashed and loud in the silence of the night.

“Oh, fuck, Jack.” She moaned, one of her hands moving to her own breast, kneading it, rolling her nipple between two fingers. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

He chuckled, just watching her work.

“You liked ridin’ that bull more than this one, didn’t you, sugar?” The words were meant to egg her on, her hips stuttering momentarily before falling back into a rhythm, faster now. “Probably still thinkin’ ‘bout that huge piece of metal between your legs.”

She whimpered, his words only getting her closer to the edge. Changing the angle just slightly, she finally found more friction against her clit while his cock dragged along all the wonderful parts inside of her pussy. So thick and deep, each bounce better than the last.

Fuck, she wished he was fucking her right now, pounding her into the truck bed, knowing he would make it fast but hard with how worked up he was.

It was a miracle he hadn’t busted inside of her yet.

“No, Jack.”

He chuckled, one of his hands reaching out to smooth over her hip and down to her ass, caressing the spot where it had come down harshly. Only to do so again, loving the noises that left her lips.

“You better not, the only bull you need to ride is right here, sugar.” He said, helping her movements by guiding them once they started to falter.

Completely lost in the feeling of his cock, eyes closed and bouncing on him like her life depended on it.

“Just work it, baby, just like that.” The praise made her feel hot, sweat breaking on her skin as she continued to focus on the feeling of him inside of her. “Gimme a yeehaw, sweet cowgirl, c’mon!”

It was ridiculous, a breathless giggle leaving her as she opened her eyes and looked at him. She loved the smirk on his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes.

Still, she obliged, taking one hand off his chest to lift his hat off of her head, just like she had pretended to earlier.

“Yeehaw, baby!” She yelled, making him laugh beneath her, wishing he could take a picture of this. Her, against the starry sky in the middle of nowhere, waving his hat around.

Maybe he should do that another time.

“Atta girl, keep ridin’ it, show that bull who’s the boss!”

Another harsh smack on her ass, the area red and stinging but simply adding to the feeling.

Jack could be so ridiculous sometimes, but she enjoyed it, grinding down into him harder.

“This bull’s got some stamina.” She breathed out, nothing but a whiny whisper. “Fuck, I’m close.”

He sat up again, his hands pushing her down into his lap, feeling her grip him tight when his lips found hers.

“Soak it, sugar,” Jack groaned against her lips, teetering right on the edge, “be a good little cowgirl for me and soak my cock with that talented pussy.”

His fingers found her clit, hurling her right over the edge with just the smallest touch, her arms wrapping around his neck once again as her pussy convulsed around him, breathless moans leaving her.

It made her head spin, the intensity of her orgasm and as her hips faltered, he kept guiding her movements, his fingers still working on her clit. Too much at once, biting his lip as he finally fell over as well.

Pressing her down into his lap, his dick spilling deep inside of her with a deep groan. He could never get enough of that feeling of her tight pussy.

His arms encircled her waist, keeping her close as she slowly caught her breath, slumped against him. That was too much of a workout tonight, first her session on the mechanical bull and now her rodeo on this one.

“What a ride.” She chuckled, leaning back to look at him. Taking his hat off of her, she placed it back on his head. “How d’you enjoy this rodeo, cowboy?”

Jack laughed, squeezing her tight.

What a filthy little thing.

“Never enjoyed bein’ ridden more than with this damn fine cowgirl on top of me.” He answered, giving her a little pat on the hip, signalling her to move off of him. If they were home already, she could have stayed sitting on his cock all night long but unfortunately they still had a bit of a drive in front of them.

She understood, moving off of him, still smiling but missing the feeling of him inside of her already.

Jack helped her get dressed again after he had put his own pants back in place, steadying her as she stood on wobbly legs.

“Which one did you enjoy more, darlin’?” He asked once they were finished and back in the car again. “There’s only one right answer here, sugar, so choose carefully.”

She giggled, pretending to think for a moment as he started the Bronco and took off.

“The mechanical one was wild.” She said, seeing him raise an eyebrow, just the corner of his lips curling up. “But nothing’s better than the real deal, don’t worry, Jack.”

He laughed at that, shaking his head.

“Nothin' better than a real bull to ride, that’s true, sugar.” Looking over at her briefly, she could still see the mischief in his eyes, promising nothing good. “But you should get a few more lessons in, cowgirl. There’s a lot to learn.”

She rolled her eyes, one of her hands laying on his thigh.

“And I’m sure you’ll be more than happy to teach me “

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stalkerofthegods · 6 months

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Ares Deep dive

Ares

Herbs • Garlic, basil, buttercup, yarrow, ginger, anything with tiny yellow flowers, spicy stuff (ex- peppers, paprika), Water hemlock, Snapdragon, Poppy, Nettle, Magnolia, Ginger

Animals• Vulture, Colchian Dragon, serpents, barn owls, woodpeckers, dogs, horses, Stymphalian birds, boars

Zodiac • Aries

Colors • Red, black, and dark purple

Crystal• garnets, rubies, bloodstone, obsidian, red scoria, smoky quartz, red jasper, carnelian

Symbols• a helm, a shield, a spear and sometimes a sheathed sword, flaming torch, armor, palace, four fire-breathing horses

Jewelry you can wear in their honor• Iron, armor

Diety of• masculinity, civil order, Battle lust, courage, City guards/police, Rage, Violent deeds, Fights, Murder, Manslaughter, Quarrels, cheese, dancing, rebellion

Patron of• the Amazons, City defenses, City defenders

Offerings• Dragons, Dragon imagery, Dragon art, Strong dark red wine, Strong whiskey, Pure water, Black coffee, Black tea, Olive oil, Beef, Red meats in general, Cooked fat from meats, Blood from cut meats, Heavy spices, Spicy foods, Garlic, Red, black, and dark purple candles, Art or statues of Him, Statues of horses or dogs, Weapons, armor, and shields (ex- art, statues, toys, handmade.), Trophies, Spicy jerky, Sport drinks / protein shakes, Hand drawn or printed art of HimArt or images of dogs, horses, and vultures, Feathers from vultures, woodpeckers, or barn owls, Iron or steel jewelry, Red flowers (ex- roses), Thorns, Miniature or toy weapons and armor (especially helmets), Snake skin, Animal teeth, Write down your fears or successes and give them to Him, Medals and ribbons you’ve earned, Antiques, Photos of riots or past wars, hot sauce, Pork ribs, homemade meals, poultry, hare, venison, wolf hearts, chili peppers, lemons, green bananas, unripe peaches, batons, bullets, kendo swords, shields, military helmets, bullet-proof vests, military boots, military belts, dynamite sticks, grenades, lion pelts, shark teeth, ram skulls, explosives (handle carefully), Medals or Certificates, dog fur or dog teeth (ethically sourced), horseshoes, bull horns, war memorabilia, broken glass, spicy jerky or twiggy sticks, Carmel, sushi, stormwater, spicy salsa, Mexican food, chocolate or chia pudding, burnt matches, cigarette butts

Devotional• Create a playlist and listen to music that makes you feel brave/empowered, Donate to the Rape Crisis Center or other similar programs, Donate and support victims of war, Cook with garlic or heavy spices that you haven’t tried before, Try new things and don’t feel ashamed about doing so, Tell Him about your accomplishments, Tell Him about your fears, Learn about shadow work and try it for yourself, Learn about history, past wars, and past riots, Learn what they accomplished or failed to accomplish, Learn and educate yourself about the downsides of war and what can happen to the people affected by wars, Partake in combat sports (ex- martial arts, fencing), Exercise, Play some strategy games like chess, Risk, and Civilization, Stand up for yourself and what you believe in, write to your governor/mayor for things you want to see changed, attend riots, Pray to Him (ex-strength, ability to fight and defeat enemies, courage, to keep others safe, and help in a battle), go to a protest, learn first aid, educate yourself on PTSD, do unharmful things that give you adrenaline rushes (ex- amusement park rides, bungee jumping), watch action movies with him, pet a dog, Playing Strategy Games, Work on managing your anger, bones, go do axe throwing, a playlist that makes you feel, brave, energized and confident, keep track of your successes (this can be daily tasks, when you conquer them cross them off, and then offer the list to Ares), write down or draw art of your fears, go to a rage room, pray or meditate during thunderstorms, watch war movies and documentaries and play war/combat and strategy video games

Ephithets•Adámastos/adamastus/ἀδάμαστος/ΑΔΑΜΑΣΤΟΣ/ἀδάμας -unconquerable & indestructible, Ænyálios/enyalius/ἐνυάλιος/ΕΝΥΑΛΙΟΣ -war-God, Alcimus, Álkimos/alcimus/ἄλκιμος/ΑΛΚΙΜΟΣ/Adj - valiant, brave, Alloprósallos/alloprosallus/ἀλλοπρόσαλλος/ΑΛΛΟΠΡΟΣΑΛΛΟΣ- loyal to the struggle and to the souls who are engaged in it, Ánax/ἄναξ/ΑΝΑΞ -lord, king, Aphneiós/aphneius/ἀφνειός/ΑΦΝΕΙΟΣ -rich, wealthy, Arrectus, Árriktos/arrectus/ἄρρηκτος, ΑΡΡΗΚΤΟΣ -unbreakable, Brotoctonus, Enyalius, Hippius, Hoplochares/Hoplodupus/Hoplophorus, Íppios/hippius/ἵππιος/ÍΠΠΙΟΣ -horseman, Mægasthænís/megasthenes/μεγασθενής/ΜΕΓΑΣΘΕΝΗΣ/μεγασθενές -very strong, Megasthenes/Mægasthænís., Ombrimothymus:See Omvrimóthymos/Omvrimóthymos/ombrimo hymus/ὀμβριμόθυμος/ΟΜΒΡΙΜΟΘΥΜΟΣ/ὀβρῐμόθῡμος -doughty, indomitable, Oplódoupos/hoplodupus/ὁπλόδουπος/ΟΠΛΟΔΟΥΠΟΣ -clattering in his armor, Oplokharís/hoplochares/ὁπλοχαρής, ΟΠΛΟΧΑΡΗΣ -rejoicing in arms, Oplophóros/hoplophorus/ὁπλοφόρος/ΟΠΛΟΦΟΡΟΣ - he who bears arms, Phrictus/Phriktós/phrictus/φρικτός/ΦΡΙΚΤΟΣ - horrifying, Polæmóklonos/polemoklonus/πολεμόκλονος/ΠΟΛΕΜΟΚΛΟΝΟΣ -he raises the clamor of combat, Polemoklonus/Polæmóklonos, Sceptuchus/ Skiptoukhos/Skiptoukho/sceptuchus/σκηπτοῦχος/ΣΚΗΠΤΟΥΧΟΣ -he who bears a scepter, Teichesipletes/Teikhæsiplítis/Teikhæsiplítis/teichesipletes/τειχεσιπλήτης/ΤΕΙΧΕΣΙΠΛΗΤΗΣ—he who storms the cities in battle, Vrotoktónos/brotoctonus/βροτοκτόνος, ΒΡΟΤΟΚΤΟΝΟΣ -the slayer of men.

Equivalents• Mars (Roman), Onuris-Anhur (Egyptian god), Tiu-Tyr (Germanic god), unnamed war-god (Scythian god).

Courting• unmarried, but courting Aphrodite.

Past lovers/crushes/hookups• Aerope, Agraulos, Harmonia, Otrere, Astyokhe, Demonike or Sterope, Kyrene or Asterie, Astyokhe

Personality• He’s a great father, and a great lover, I talk to a godspouse of his and they talk about how he calmed them and was always there. He’s a great father because I’ve talked to a person who their father is ares and he’s always there for them, he’s also generous.

Home• Mount Olympus

Mortal or immortal • immortal

Fact• Ares was the only male greek god that never raped or sexually assaulted any woman

Curses• Routing armies, Cowardice, Death on the battlefield, Military invasion, Sacking of cities, Rebellion, Uprisings, Sedition

Blessings•Driving armies, Bravery, fighting strength & endurance, Averting war (peace), Repelling invading armies, Maintaining civil order, Crushing rebellions, Restraint violent instinct,

Roots• Thrake, Ancient Greece.

Parentage• Zues and Hera

Siblings• Enyo (twin sister), Eris (sister), Apollo (half-brother), Artemis (half-sister), Athena (half-sister), Hephaestus (brother), Hermes (half-brother), Dionysus (half-brother), Hebe (sister), Heracles (half-brother), Aphrodite (half-sister).

Pet• four fire-breathing horses (Aithon (Red-Fire), Phlogios (Flame), Konabos (Tumult) and Phobos (Fear))

Children •ANTEROS (God of reciprocated love, son of Ares and Aphrodite), DEIMOS (God of fear, a son of Ares and Aphrodite.), ENYALIOS/Enyalius (A war-god son of Ares and Eris), EROS (God of love, a son of Ares and Aphrodite), HARMONIA (Goddess of harmony, daughter of Ares and Aphrodite.), NIKE(The goddess of victory, a daughter of Ares), PHOBOS (God of panic, son of Ares and Aphrodite),AEROPOS/Aeropus (son of Ares and Aerope.), ALKIPPE/Alcippe (daughter of Ares and Agraulos), AMAZONES/Amazons (Warrior women of Assyria, daughters of Ares and Harmonia), ANTIOPE(daughter of Ares and Otrere), ASKALAPHOS/Ascalaphus (son of Ares and Astyokhe), DIOMEDES (son of Ares and Kyrene or Asterie), DRYAS (son of Ares), EUENOS/Evenus (son of Ares and Demonike, and sometimes the son of Ares and Sterope), HIPPOLYTE (daughter of Ares and Otrere.),IALMENOS/Ialmenus (son of Ares and Astyokhe), KYKNOS/Cycnus) (son of Ares and Pelopia or Pyrene), LIKYMNIOS/Licymnius (son of Ares most say his father was King Elektryon), LYKASTOS/Lycastus) (son of Ares and Phylonome.), LYKOS/Lycus (son of Ares who used to sacrifice strangers to his father), MELANIPPOS/Melanippus (son of Ares and Triteia.), MELEAGROS/Meleager (son of Ares and Queen Althaia, but most call him a son of King Oineus), MOLOS/Molus (son of Ares and Demonike), NISOS/Nisus (son of Ares, but most accounts say he was a son of the Athenian prince Pandion), OIAGROS/Oeagrus (a son of Ares but some say his father was King Kharops),OINOMAUS/Oenomaus (son of Ares and the Pleaid Sterope or Princess Harpinna), OXYLOS/Oxylus (son of Ares and Protogeneia), PARRHASIOS/Parrhasius(son of Ares and Phylonome.),PARTHENOPAIOS/Parthenopaeus (son of Ares and Atalanta, many say his father was Melanion or Meleagros), PENTHESILEIA (daughter of Ares and Otrere), PHLEGYAS (He was a son of Ares and Dotis or Khryse.), PORTHAON (son of Ares or according to others of Agenor), PYLOS/Pylus (son of Ares and Demonike.), REMUS (son of Ares and Ilia), ROMULUS (son of Ares and Ilia), TEREUS (a son of Ares.), THESTIOS/Thesius (son of Ares and Demonike or Agenor and Epikaste), THRASSA (daughter of Ares and Tereine.), DRAKON ISMENIAN (A monstrous dragon-serpent, it was a son of Ares and the Erinys Telphousia.)

attendees• DEIMOS & PHOBOS (The twin gods of terror and fear), ERIS & ENYO (goddess of strife, hatred and war), KYDOIMOS/Cydoemus (The god of the din of war), NIKE (goddess of victory), OTHER ABSTRACTIONS(spirits described such as Rage, Anger, Threats, Death and Valour)

Appearance in astral or gen• In ancient Greek art, he was depicted as either a mature, bearded warrior armed for battle, or as a nude, beardless youth with a helm and spear.

Festivals • Artemis Agrotera/Kharisteria , and Genesios, maybe.

Day • Tuesday

Scared places• Odrysia in Bistonia, Thrake (his birth-place)

Planet• Mars

Tarot cards• Chariot & Emperor card

Scents/Inscene • Frankensince, Sandalwood incense, resin, burning wood (especially if Himalayan salt in thrown in since it reminds him of blood), and red sandalwood incense

Prayers•

Prayer to Ares for the Safety of a Soldier

Bold-hearted Ares, bright-helmed son of thundering Zeus and noble Hera, well-honored god of war, any battle will you face, any foe will you fight, without fear and without hestitation. Ares, god of warriors, ally of those who risk their lives on the field, to you do soldiers offer their prayers. You know each one’s name, O Ares, you know their lives, you know their worth. Great Ares, I pray to you, watch over ____________ who heeded your call, who practices your art, whose name you know well, for s/he is one of your own who does you honor with each day s/he serves. Ares, I pray to you.

In general

Bright-helmed Ares, strong of arm and stern of visage, firm of stance, unyielding of will, ever ready to face any foe, to hold the line against all who may come, to battle until the end. Ares, son of noble Zeus and wise Hera, cherished by golden Aphrodite, honored by those who call on you for strength and courage, in the north were you much honored in times of old, in Thrace and Thessaly were you held in esteem by those whose lives were harsh, whose world was stony, whose comforts were hard-won. Ares who answers the prayers of the despairing, I honor you

For Courage

Ares, fierce-hearted son of Zeus and noble Hera, full-famed you are as god of war. To you do soldiers pray when battle is most heated, when mettle is most needed. To you as well do we turn in desperate times, to you do we call for strength, for the spirit to endure. You understand the terror of struggle and strife, you confront it in every way. Ares, your courage is unquestioned, your might and your prowess unequaled. Ares, friend to those in direst need, I pray to you, grant me the nerve to face what must be faced, grant me the will to do what must be done, grant me the heart to forge ahead.

Links/websites/sources •https://greekgodsandgoddesses.net/gods/ares/

https://twelfthremedy.tumblr.com/post/624476009567289344/ares-offerings/amphttps://aspisofares.wordpress.com/tag/offerings/https://www.tumblr.com/warriots/622104378198933504/a-guide-to-ares-worship https://www.tumblr.com/warriots/622104378198933504/a-guide-to-ares-worship https://scarletarosa.tumblr.com/post/187742800571/ares-greek-god-ofhttps://www.tumblr.com/diana-thyme/722942201197363200/greek-gods-101-ares @enyalios-shrinehttps://greekpagan.com/category/prayers-2/ares/

BIG HELP TO

https://www.tumblr.com/tarotbee

Ares is the Greek god and patron of many things, he is the edge of the sword while you hold the soft side, no god can be the god of war without the bloodshed, so don’t judge so quick, he is an amazing god, we love Ares here. Please excuse my grammar and everything, I tried my best.

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cobaltperun · 2 months

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Lost (25) - We Belong Together

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 3.4k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-I only think of you, and it's breaking my heart, I'm trying to keep it together but I'm falling apart-

~X~ March 25th, 2027~X~

Ghostface grieved for his followers, for Ghost-Elephant and Ghost-Bull killed in an effort to capture Tara Carpenter, now L/N, to lure Samantha to their location. He finally had his twelve followers, he finally had everything he desired, and now he was left with only ten, they could be replaced, of course, but perhaps he was too trusting. The snake was in his ranks, and it betrayed him, while wearing the mark of a snake he so carefully painted on the white mask.

To make it more difficult to track them, he separated the cult into two groups, one led by Ghost-Bear, one led by Ghost-Dog.

Bear, Bird, Fish, Monkey, Bull, and Elephant in one group. Dog, Wolf, Lion, Shark, Rhino, and Snake in the other group, stationed around him. From the looks of it, the dog was more effective than the bear, and would soon enough receive the unmarked mask, as his second, as the one almost equal to him. But that would be left for later. He had a traitor to kill.

“I have been kind to you all,” he began, his voice changer on, as usual. “I’ve given you an opportunity to join me, based solely on our shared beliefs, yet one of you dared to betray me and now…” he pulled out a knife and violently stabbed it into the table. “Sidney Prescott lives! One of you made sure of that!” he yelled, causing everyone but Ghost-Dog, the unwavering, loyal follower, to flinch.

“Tell me who it is, and I’ll personally handle their punishment,” Ghost-Snake spoke, making Ghostface grit his teeth. The nerve of the traitor, to speak so eagerly in his presence.

He stood up, his robes flowing behind him and circled the table, the dim candlelight flickered as he walked by, some flames dying out as he stopped right behind Ghost-Snake. “I appreciate the offer,” he spoke calmly, abruptly yanking the mask off and pointing a knife at the back of the woman’s head. “Here is your punishment,” he fired before the woman he allowed into his cult even had the chance to speak. The blood stained the wooden table and his clothes and he cleaned the gun with the snake’s robes. “Dispose of her, let this be a lesson to all of you. Betrayal will not be tolerated.”

~X~

She had no way to tell the time; her phone was taken or left at the warehouse, and there were no windows in her room. The air was stale, the food barely enough to keep her alive and water wasn’t something she had easy access to either. If the Ghostface with bird on the mask wasn’t bringing her, or rather sneaking in, food and water for her, she was sure she would be only getting one meal a day. Tara was tired. So tired she barely had the energy to glare whenever the Ghostface that shot Danny brought her that one meal.

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t keep going. And she had long since given up on hoping she would be saved. This was likely her end, and she could only apologize to you for dying here, alone, afraid, and worse than that, pregnant with your child. If only she could have given birth before this, at least that way you’d still have your child, as it was, she’d be leaving you alone.

And then she felt something warm between her legs.

It took her a few moments to move, to figure out the cause of the sudden warmth, her exhausted body not willing to comply to her wants.

But when she properly looked down at her fingers and sat the red spots her heart began beating rapidly. Blood. She was bleeding. “Relax, relax, it can happen,” she tried to calm down, to not let the panic set in, to do anything just to stay calm. But her panic driven mind thought of how little she ate since you were arrested, how much stress she experienced, and she was more afraid than ever in her entire life. She thought she had accepted her death, she was sure of that, but she didn’t accept your child dying before her.

She never accepted and she would never accept that!

~X~

How many weeks has it been already? Almost four weeks if the number of meals you were given was any indication. Damn it Sam… the fuck did you get yourself into, was the question you often asked no one in particular as you sat there, chained to the wall. Your thoughts once again drifted to Tara, and you clung to those thoughts desperately, knowing full well those thoughts were the only thing keeping you sane. Was she fine? If Sam did anything to her, or was in any way involved in something bad happening to Tara, you’d make her pay, you’d make her regret ever touching that damn mask.

“I should have known only the leader would know where you were,” a voice, that damn voice came from the doors. You didn’t look up though, you had no desire to know who was speaking to you. “Silent treatment?”

You scoffed; you had nothing to say to Ghostface, and you would have rattled your chains if it wasn’t so useless to do so. They were still afraid of you, seeing as they just barely interacted with you.

“This isn’t like you, L/N,” the voice changer was turned off half-way through the sentence and your eyes widened as you recognized the voice. “You’re just going to rot here? While your wife is out there?” you clenched your fists when you heard that, rattling the chains holding you in place.

“What are you doing here, Golubeva?” you demanded, finally looking up to glare at the woman. What was she doing here and wearing that damn mask? It didn’t matter. If you had to kill one more former MMA fighter you’d do it.

“We have a common goal, L/N,” that made you settle down a bit, curious as to what she could possibly get from all of this mess.

“Explain,” you demanded as she took off the mask, she looked a bit older, but there was no doubt this was the woman you fought all those years ago for the title.

She sighed and began unlocking the chains on your feet. “My cousin is a Ghostface, I’d like to get him out of this. I don’t know how involved he really is, but if there is a way to save his life, I want to do that. And you, well, you vaguely know what’s at stake for you here,” she moved the chains to the side and moved on to the ones around your arms.

“Vaguely?” you couldn’t help but ask once she was done setting you free. You got up, feeling a bit unsteady but overall fine. You could get up and move a few feet even while chained up, so you remained in shape, the insufficient food was an issue, but you powered through it like you used to before your fights.

“Your wife was captured,” Anya told you and you saw red. Slamming her into the wall and pressing your forearm against her neck.

Anya cursed in Russian and tried to push your arm back, but fueled by rage there was no way you’d be that easy to push away. “Where is she?” you pulled back a bit and slammed her back into the wall. “Where is Tara?!” you barely registered that Anya couldn’t breathe with how hard you were pressing on her neck, but you still somehow realized it and pulled your arm back as the blonde woman began coughing and gasping for air.

She raised her arm when you nearly attacked her again. “I get it. I’ll take you to her. Damn,” she rubbed her neck, but you were already pulling her outside.

~X~

Kirby had never seen this much fury in your eyes, you looked ready to rip someone apart as you stepped out of Anya’s car. “Y/N,” she greeted you in front of the safehouse, a small cabin in the woods.

“Kirby, where’s Tara?” you barely acknowledged anything else, you didn’t even shake her hand.

“You can go and get her, but we need to go over the plan first,” Kirby pulled her arm back, knowing full-well you were too focused on rescuing Tara to care about anything else.

The rage flickered in your eyes and for a brief moment Kirby thought she’s be on the receiving end of your fist, but you just took a deep breath and went inside the cabin. “Fine, but be quick about it,” you paused, likely because you saw Chad and Mindy inside.

“Y/N!” the twins jumped to their feet and greeted you happily and just for a second you allowed them to hug you before once again focusing on Tara.

Kirby couldn’t say she disliked your dedication to Tara, it would certainly make this part easier. “Okay, here’s the plan Y/N,” she began.

~X~

The bleeding stopped, but her worry didn’t end. She needed to make sure your child was fine, she needed to get out of here, she needed to move. She had no time for tears. The doors opened and she glanced to see the Ghostface with bear on the mask coming in with a tray, a bare minimum of food, mainly bread and some canned meat and a glass of water on it. It didn’t even smell appetizing. Not that it mattered, he lowered his guard while lowering the food to the concrete floor.

Tara’s arms were left untied after the one with the bird cut the ropes. The woman argued she couldn’t escape as long as her legs were tied, and the other three Ghostfaces agreed. It certainly made eating easier. It also made it easy to hide that she untied her legs and just kept the rope loosely around her ankles a long time ago.

Ghostface set the tray down and while his head was down Tara moved. She lunged forward, grabbing the man under his left knee and pushing him to the ground in a move that you’d be proud of. She allowed a small smile to appear on her face, she didn’t watch you train for years for nothing. Before Ghostface could figure out what was happening she grabbed the rope and tied his arms behind his back and kicked him in the head for good measure. The groan he let out told her he was still conscious, and that she needed to be quick as she ran through the building, finally finding the exit, rushing outside and realizing it was the middle of the night, that she was in an empty street in a more industrial area than she hoped. She hoped she was kept somewhere where she could ask for help, somewhere where there was at least a shop or something, but she was in some kind of abandoned place filled with large buildings and no way of knowing where to go. She just knew she had to move, to get away from this building before Ghostface freed himself.

So, she ran, she ran ignoring the pain in her lungs, the difficulties breathing, and she refused to focus on the pain in her stomach. She only stopped when she felt like she was far enough to start walking instead of running. After all, running would likely make her easier to hear. The streetlight flickered as she leaned against the building, trying to catch her breath. From the looks of it, she managed to escape captors. Even if she wasn’t sure how long she’d be safe.

“She couldn’t have gone far, spread out and find her! Do not kill her, we still need her alive!” she heard a voice she knew all too well shouting, commanding the group of pursuers that were after her. She took a few deep breaths, and hoped she could find her way out of the trap they prepared for her unharmed.

~X~

You ran through the industrial zone, not caring one bit about anyone seeing or hearing you. You were too late, when you rushed into the building Anya pointed you toward Tara was already gone, no one was there, no one was around it, but you saw red spots on the ground and a fallen tray with food and a broken glass lying next to it.

You ran, hoping you’d either find Tara before anyone else did, or that you’d find a Ghostface and kill them right away. Either of those two would work, as long as you could get to Tara before anyone could hurt her.

~X~

While she managed to evade her pursuers for at least an hour Tara was quickly losing strength, only fueled by her adrenaline and need to keep your child safe as she checked around another building for anyone nearby. She kept to the shadows, tried to find some kind of forest, or anything that could be used as a shortcut, but she had no luck so far. She placed her hand on her stomach, and pushed on, rounding the corner only to suddenly feel arms pulling her in.

She felt strong arms wrapping around her back and relaxed, recognizing you immediately by touch alone. “Y/N,” she didn’t even need to look at you, but she did because she wanted to, she looked you in the eyes for the first time in almost a month and her hands trembled as she grabbed onto you, afraid that you’d slip through her fingers like some exhaustion induced hallucination.

“It’s okay, Love, I got you,” you kissed the top of her head and Tara raised her head to kiss you. The kiss was hasty, of course, you hardly had any time to spare. “Are you okay?” you asked her.

Tara nodded. “Yeah, we both are,” relief washed over your face and she let you pick her up. She couldn’t tell you about the blood, not until you were safely out of this hell.

She couldn’t keep her eyes off you, off your face, the relief and love in your eyes, the slight tremble of your arms as you held her, not from her weight, but from the weight that dropped from your heart. And she allowed the exhaustion to take her over, she was safe once again, you were with her once again, and she fell asleep in your arms. You’d get her out of this hell.

“It’s okay, Love, you can sleep now, I’m with you,” your reassurance was more than enough for her. Once again, she felt safe.

~X~

Your eyes softened as you looked at Tara, at her peaceful, though tired face and sighed, relief flooding you, but you couldn’t relax, not until you made it out. You looked around, while you wanted to kill everyone involved, everyone who kept her here, you needed to keep her safe. You slipped into the shadows, listening carefully for any signs of presence anywhere near you, and began walking in the direction Tara came from. She made the right turn into your arms, but if she turned left, she would have reached the forest and that was where you were heading. Two miles through the forest and you’d reach the road, where Chad was waiting in a car.

Two hours on the road, and you’d get to a safehouse, one Kirby guaranteed was safe, one Mindy and Anika were currently making sure was safe. And then Tara could rest and properly recover.

Finally, with Tara in your arms you managed to clear your head enough to think about the entire situation. Kirby had a mole, the one with wolf on the mask, it was because of her that all of this was possible. She confirmed Sam was involved way before you were freed, and she contacted Anya before her cousin could, which set everything else in motion and here you were. With two confirmed allies in enemy ranks, and Sam you were still unsure of.

Did Sam do this to protect Tara? If Tara wasn’t captured you would believe that, but as it was, you had your doubts. You’d have to clear that up with Sam herself. Fifteen minutes later you reached the road and leaned Tara against you so you could take out your phone. Chad’s location popped up, less than half a mile down the road. Just a bit more and everything would be fine.

Tara hummed, blinking a few times, and snuggling closer to you. “Y/N,” she muttered, reaching up and hugging you.

“You’re okay now, Love, you’re safe,” you leaned down, kissing her forehead.

“I was bleeding,” she suddenly said, her voice shaking and her grip on you tightening, and you froze. You didn’t see any wounds on her, any stains on her clothes. But she said she was bleeding, and there were drops of blood where she was held.

“What?” your throat got dry all of a sudden, the worst case scenario running through your mind. You looked down at her stomach and then back at her face to see her nodding. “It’ll be fine, okay? It can happen, right?” you asked, rushing toward the car, fear clutching your heart, fogging your mind so much you barely stopped by the car without running into it.

“We need to see the doctor,” Tara nodded, soothing you with her touch even as she panicked as well, and you nodded lowering her back to her feet and opening the doors for her.

“Drive to the hospital! Right now!” you yelled jumping in from the other side as Chad turned to check on Tara.

“Hospital?!” he started the car, panicking just from hearing the panic in your voice.

“Just drive damn it!” you shouted as Tara leaned into your side, refusing to let go of you. “Baby will be fine, Love, you’ll both be fine,” you assured her and yourself as much as you could.

~X~

The hospital wasn’t too far away, and you were in the hall with Chad, waiting for the doctors to come back and tell you if Tara and the baby were fine.

Chad patted you on the shoulder. “They’ll be fine, Y/N, Tara is strong and if the baby is anything like her, you have nothing to worry about,” he assured you.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. Your arms were crossed over your chest, and you squeezed your biceps so hard you nearly winced in pain. “I should have found a way to escape,” you couldn’t help but think that. That you should have been there for her, that you should have come back to her, and kept her from getting captured in the first place.

“You couldn’t. You were chained, weren’t you? You’re stupidly strong, but even you have limits. We should have come back, we should have been there for Tara,” he felt guilty as well, and a part of you did think that. They left Tara, even when they knew she only had Danny left.

“You should have but,” you looked at him, anger not directed at him burning in your eyes. “Sam should have, none of this should have happened in the first place if she just…”

“Where is Sam anyway?” Chad dared to ask. “Is she really Ghostface now?”

You were about to answer, but you saw Tara coming out with the doctor next to her. “Tara,” you ran up to her and she hugged you the moment you reached her.

“We’re fine! All three of us,” she said, pulling you down to kiss you on the lips.

“Three?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“We’re having twins, Baby,” she whispered, relaxing once again in your arms.

“Your babies are fine, the bleeding happens sometimes, but you were right to come and check,” the doctor told you and you nodded, thanking her.

“We can go now, right?” Tara asked, though she didn’t separate from you, she kept hugging you, not wanting to be separated from you any more than she absolutely needed to be. The doctor nodded. “Just make sure you eat enough and have plenty of rest,” it was a bit of a warning, and you’d both take it to heart. Hell, you’d make a good, healthy meal for Tara the moment you came to the safehouse.

A/N: What’s that? Reader appeared? About time!

Taglist: @alexkolax

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #scream #tara carpenter x female reader #jenna ortega x reader

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revelisms · 2 months

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Excerpt: Six Years

Vi wrestles with the realization of how much her sister has changed—and how many unwanted parallels she sees between Silco and their father. From a work-in-progress set after heron blue.

In some ways, she was still so familiar. Her perpetual nest of a living condition and geriatric sense of humor; her inability (refusal) to tend to her hair, herself. Yet, in so many ways, she's nothing like the girl Vi remembers.

A shell. A stranger.

Jinx—a name that doesn't belong to her sister, that christens a girl who spits at the name Powder; whose body bares sinew and steel, wears yellowed stains at her chipped fingernails and speaks a drawl decades beyond her years—isn't a child, anymore.

Eleven years, enmeshed in each others' days and nights; eleven, that Vi had always been with her.

Powder's rock and shield. Powder's everything.

Then the cannery had happened. Stillwater had happened. That monster had happened—

A monster whose gait she could pick out from a crowd: hears prowling over the floors now, above the jukebox and the metal tickings and her sister's self-directed rambling—a heavy-heeled th-thumping up the varnished steps, his coat a devil's whisper against the walls.

Vi steels herself. Beside her, Jinx prattles on.

"Y'ever thought of fighting in a ring, sis?"

Th-thump, th-thumping over the dark floors.

"You'd be the scrappiest scrapper in the Underground. Bet they'd call ya the Red Devil—or Lead Lettie—or Sourmouth Suckerpunch—"

She stares, unblinking, plastic squeezed beneath her thumb. Through the sliver of her sister's cracked door, a polish-slick boot wades through the shadows. Stills.

"What you really need," Jinx says, with a lax crook of her screwdriver, "is a pair of Vandie's old gauntlets—that'll set'em right."

Vi swallows. The hall's dark devours the wraith on the other side of the door: shrouds all but the unearthly cat's-eye that tips over the leather at his shoulder, burning like a funeral pyre over a rotting corpse.

"Yeah," she says, stiffly. Comb-teeth bite into her palm. "That's all I need."

His stare lingers—three-four-five beats—before it flits to the floor, trails over the blue tangled within her fingers, traces its mess back to the girl lounged beside her. Jinx stays worlds away in her tinkering, head lolled against the floor. She wrenches another screw into place.

"It's late," Jinx huffs, without needing a glance. "I know."

Silence, for a moment. Then Silco agrees, "It's late, indeed."

Jinx scowls. "One'ta talk."

If the shadows weren't playing a trick on her, Vi might have thought he'd smirked. But that bastard never smiled—never did anything but glare over his paperwork, around the vile plumes of his cigars: eyeing her hyena of a sister like a stray in need of a meal, and Vi like a bull ready to charge.

Signing a blood-pact to his enterprise (their city's scheme for fiscal independence; her sister's unfathomable choice for a homestead) had done nothing in the way of trust. He'd taken an overseer's scrutiny to her, from the day she'd put her name in ink: a dead-eyed panopticon hounding her every waking hour, as though she'd never left that molding cell.

On one hand, a part of her reasoned, he had a right—sizing up her methods, as he would any new recruit; strategizing where best to slot her in the arteries of a drug-machine already years on the march. A more cynical thread knew he was laying his cards flat and playing the long game. Slouching back, idly, with eyes unblinking, to find any reason to put her under his heel.

She stares at the unmarred side of his face: a dim halo in a coal-blackened sea.

Eleven years that she'd been with Powder.

Six—nearly seven, now—that Jinx has had this snake at her side.

From the doorway, his shadow gravels, "I take it you'll be off soon."

"Soon as the bell chimes." Jinx flits her wrist, pinkie-promise. "Not a rhyme later—cross my hearts and hope to snore."

Silco makes a low chuff at that: strange, quiet, bemused. A not-quite laugh, like Dad used to do.

For a moment, a breath tangled in her throat, Vi sees him.

He was tower of a man, thin as a string. His voice itched with smoke-pocked lungs and dreams that glittered like the stars. He kept chewing tobacco sweetened with cinnamon under his tongue, and he wore the mines on his clothes; gave hugs that made one's soul feel like it'd been wrapped in down-feathers; made the moonlight seem like nothing more than hand-sculpted glass: some beautiful thing he'd spooled on a thread and hung up there for all to see.

He'd been everything to her—her image of whistle-toothed optimism, her laughter, her guiding light—until he wasn't.

Freckles smattering her cheeks, her unruly hair the color of redmilk tea, a younger version of herself had shrieked over the idea of having to share her plates, pillows, toys with some snot-nosed little girl—a blue-haired, rambunctious, wailing thing—a sister. She'd stomped her feet and thrown fits over it. Told Dad, flat out: I don't wanna have her!

He'd stood slouched over her, hands bracketed at his thin waist, a glitter in his pale eyes, and chuffed. You'll do great, Lettie. His smile always pulled a touch crooked at one corner: a sincerity that, without fail, made her believe him.

She'd always believed him, then.

She was too young, too naïve not to.

Staring into an empty threshold, into a shadowed hall, a ghost of footsteps thudding down the dark floors, Vi fights to forget their father's voice. To block out the echo of a rasp no part of her wants to compare to it. To ignore the remnants of smoke on the air—tower of a man, thin as a string, heels heavy-footed from those damn mines—that belonged to a man she'd sooner wring the neck of. Wouldn't dare put in the same vein of everything their father was.

(Complicated. Self-loathing. Hellishly tempered. Kind.)

#first arcane wip post in...how many months??#truly cannot remember #work has been an absolute hellhole but I am. slowly. catching a break #i have so many fics i need to catch up on reading ghh #arcane #arcane fanfic #fic excerpt #writing #jinx arcane #vi arcane #silco arcane #this wip has been burning a hole in my files and augh i want to finish it at some point #the daughter vi dad silco dysfunction just hits different

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boygiwrites · 9 months

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Harley D. Dixon 3

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. This fanfic now has a Pinterest Board and a playlist! The vibes of this fic were just begging for them.

I get dumped on the cooking table, back at main camp.

"Somebody run down to the RV! Med-kit's in there!"

This table is for buttering toast and chopping veggies, but now, it's for me, and it's not a cooking table, it's a hospital bed.

"What in the world is going on?" Dale's hurrying over, shaking his head.

My Daddy yells, "Gimme that fuckin' rag! Now! C'mon!"

"Where's the disinfectant?"

"A little help, over here! Hurry!"

I feel like someone's put me in a box and they're shaking it as hard as they can, tryna scramble my brains. I'm crying. Everyone's shouting at each other. Nobody in camp has ever been dying from a dead person's scratch, before, so the shouting just goes in circles and circles and circles, 'cause even though they're all adults, they don't know what to do. Nobody's taught them. I'm scared. They're scared. Everyone — Rick, and Daddy, and Shane, and everyone else — all one camp, now. All scared, together.

"Rick's woman!" My Daddy calls out. "Gimme your hands! Right fuckin' now! Somebody get me a flashlight!"

Lori comes running over, 'cause everyone's running everywhere tonight, and she's whiter than paper, and she's saying that she's so, so sorry, but nobody wants to hear that right now, not yet. Not 'til they've done everything they can. Not 'til they know. My Dad and Rick grab at her hands, and they hold her fingers up to the light, and all three of them argue over whether or not the black gunk they see underneath her nails is my blood or not. Rick thinks it's dirt, and Lori can't be sure, but my Dad bullies them into changing their minds, 'cause if it's not my blood, then that means I got no chance at all, and a kid in this camp is gonna die, and it's gonna be his.

Glenn skids into view, waving a med-kit around. "Med-kit! I got it! Who needs it?"

"Over here!" Jacqui sticks her hand in the air, and she catches the little med-kit mid-air like a football.

Then Jacqui and Miranda and Glenn are all poking me and pouring acid on my arm and fumbling through all the different types of bandages in the med-kit. They keep dropping the sachets everywhere and cussing at each other, while the others argue, pace, and clutch their heads. I can't keep track of anything. Where'd my Daddy go? I think I say it out loud, to Glenn. I think he's too stressed to answer proper, so he doesn't answer at all. Over his shoulder, the crowd all blends together 'cause it's just a bunch of bodies and heads and eyes, all watching us, but then, there he is. My Daddy, he's here again, and he's still shouting, and breathing all hard, like a big, angry bull, pushing past people. He's got yellow cables in his hands, now. He reaches the table and loops them under my armpit, once, twice, three times, and then he knots them like a shoelace. He knots them real, real tight. They're so tight that I'm crying all over again, and he's sorry, baby, but he can't do it loose.

He tells me that we gotta do this so the germs don't spread to the rest of my body, 'cause that's where all my most important parts are, like my heart and my lungs, and he wants to keep them safe. He says people do this when they get snake bites. It's what an old-world doctor would have said, but old-world is all they got.

"Daddy, it hurts," I'm being loud, which is dangerous, and dangerous is stupid, but nobody tells me to stop. Not even my Dad, and it's his rule.

"I know it hurts, baby. I'm sorry. Be my brave girl, okay?"

"Oh, God." Someone puffs, sick.

The cables are done, and then... Well, that's it.

After the acid and the bandages and the cables, the chaos hits a wall, and there's nothin' else anybody can do for me.

I sit there, dying, on the cooking table.

Dale must be thinking 'bout his dead niece. Shane must be thinking about our trip to the lake, today. The Grimes family are holding onto Carl. Morales' family is holding onto Eliza and Louis. Carol holds Sophia. They all look like photos that belong on a fireplace mantle, in a nice house, and I'm jealous, but only for a second. I think Rick and Lori and Morales and Miranda and Carol are all very scared for my Dad, like they're all friends, even though they ain't know a thing about him. When people are parents, no matter where they're from, or what they look like, or how they talk, they all have the one, same worst nightmare, and that nightmare is happening, tonight, for my Daddy.

He's hiding his face in my hair, 'cause Dixons don't like people seein' them cry.

"Come on," Jacqui murmurs.

I get to sleep in the RV, tonight. It's because I'm dying, and dying people get special things.

But I don't wanna get special things. I just wanna be alive again.

My Daddy used to be a mechanic, like Jim. Our mornings always went like this.

Being a mechanic means you gotta get up real early, so that's what Daddy did. His boss was a hard-ass, and he needed Daddy at the shop at seven in the morning, on the dot, every day. Otherwise, he'd fire him, and Daddy would have to go back to working three jobs again.

My Daddy would roll out of bed, dressed in his green-plaid pyjama pants and lamb-skull tank top, which was almost always covered in crumbs, and if I didn't spend the night in his bed, he would come creeping to my door and knock on it to wake me up. Then, slowly, the smell of mini sausages would stink up the house. I'd hear him messin' with the fold-out laundry rack, and cussin' to himself when it fell apart. I'd hear him switch the TV on, and then I'd hear the newsman talkin' nonsense. I always got up just in time to eat. My Daddy said I eat as much as a teenage boy, 'cause he likes sayin' things that make me angry. He said he can tell because he used to be one.

Then, he'd pull on a hoodie, grab Tank from our overgrown yard, and we'd all go for a walk around the trailer park in our pyjamas.

The sky was always white-ish, like water mixed with milk, and there was never anybody around. That means whenever Tank shat on Miss Burdette's lawn, Daddy didn't have to pick it up, and we got to watch the sprinklers come on. Sometimes, I'd ride beside him on my bike. He'd tell me how good I was gettin' at riding without my training wheels, and then he'd dare me to do a trick, like peddling without holding the handles. If I ever fell, he'd tell me I was an idiot for listenin' to him in the first place. Then, we'd reach our porch again, and the morning was over.

I miss our mornings. I think Dad does, too. This morning is very different to our old ones. The sky is still white, and my Daddy's still here, but we're in the back of Dale's RV, and there's no Tank or sausages or bike rides, anymore, and I might be dying.

I don't think my Dad slept at all, last night.

Every time I woke up, he stopped staring at the wall and hurried to palm my forehead. He asked if I needed the bathroom, and if I felt hot, or dizzy, or faint, or even just a little bit sick. I shook my head every time. I asked him to take the cables off, but he never did. Then, I fell asleep again, and we repeated it all twenty minutes later, on a loop. I ain't stupid. I know he's waitin' to see if I start gettin' sick. He's waitin' for my skin to start goin' hot, for my cheeks to go red, and for my fingers and toes to go numb. So far, the only thing wrong with me is that I keep throwing up in the RV toilet.

When I wake up again for the tenth time since last night, tucked into his side, it's morning time, and Dad's still staring at the wall.

He feels me moving and sits upright to palm my forehead. "You need to go, chicken?"

Halfway through the night, that question started including the need to vomit up the clear stuff in my stomach, as well as peein'.

I shake my head.

"You feel faint?" He asks, feeling my neck, now. "Dizzy? Like you're gon' pass out, or sum'?"

I shake my head again. "Dad, what's gonna happen to Amy?"

Amy died last night. She got a big, nasty bite on her hand, and nobody even noticed until after they were done fussin' over me. I haven't seen her, but I know she's just outside the RV window, going cold in the dirt. Poor Amy. She was nice, but even nice people die, sometimes. She used to let me borrow her hair lackeys. I'm wearing one of them right now. I slide it off my ponytail and chuck it on the floor. She's dead, but the dead people germs haven't reached her brain yet. I know, 'cause I ain't heard a gunshot, yet.

That's what you do with sick people. You shoot them. I wonder if my Daddy's gonna have to shoot me.

"Don't worry 'bout Amy." Daddy grumbles. He grabs my purple water bottle and hands it to me. "Three big sips," He orders.

I do what he says, and then I pick at the cartoon sticker on the side. "Amy. Sophia's Dad, too."

Lots of people died last night; people I didn't even know. I wish I did, so I could miss them. Everybody deserves to be missed when they die.

"Don't worry 'bout him, neither." Dad complains. "I'd kill him, if I could. 'Sides. It ain't your job to worry, chicken. That's my job."

"But Sophia," I mumble. "She got no Dad, now."

I'm already sad, but if I had no Dad, I would be very, very, very sad.

"Harley, baby. We ain't talkin' about this."

He takes the water bottle offa me, and then he picks the lackey up off the floor, and starts re-doin' my hair.

I don't really wanna talk about it, neither, so I say nothin'.

I think about Uncle Merle. Yesterday, they found his hand on a roof in the city. The rest of him weren't attached to it. I start feeling guilty all over again, 'cause when I first heard this story, I ain't even feel bad. I just felt like I got told that five plus five equals ten, and, well, I already knew that.

"And yer arm?" Dad asks, his fingers scraping through my hair to gather it all. "How's that feelin'?"

I shrug to get a better look, and prod the big, plastic square of bandage taped there.

"Stings a little."

"Well, you tell me if that changes." He mutters. "It gets worse, you tell me. It gets better, you tell me. It turns rainbow, you tell me."

What? Me? Rainbow? That's silly! Only rainbows and unicorns can be rainbow.

"It ain't gonna go rainbow!" I burst out in giggles.

His fingers stop moving. He's silent behind me.

But then I hear him chuckle, just a little, like he's decided it's okay to be happy. "Yeah. That's an order, Harley Dixon."

I tip my head all the way back, and I can see his upside-down face smirkin' at me, with that lil' mole by his mouth, and I giggle even more.

He nudges me upright. "Quit bein' silly, girl. I'm tryna do sum' here."

He twists all my hair into a knot at the bottom of my neck. I giggle even harder, 'cause it's ugly as Hell.

The door to the RV opens. Dale pokes his head in, and he looks like he's happy to see me and my Dad smiling.

"I hate to interrupt," Dale says, "But we're about to have an important conversation, and I thought you might want to be there to hear it, Daryl."

My Dad's face is all sour again. He pinches my cheek, and sighs, and then he forces himself to his feet and he leaves.

They plod down the steps. The door shuts. I'm alone.

Suddenly, I can't remember why I was giggling at all.

I pull the hair lackey out and chuck it on the floor.

A few minutes later, I hear a loud, loud bang, and then Andrea crying.

I'm stacking dominoes in the RV dining booth, while I eavesdrop on the adults outside.

"I heard they started cookin' somethin' up at the CDC when things went sideways." Shane says. "It could be a good option for us."

"I heard the same thing." Dale agrees. "On the radio, they were talking about a cure. An honest-to-God cure."

"You really think we'd all still be stuck in this shit-hole camp if this 'cure' really existed?" Scoffs Jim.

"It could save Harley's life." Rick scolds, harsh, like the bark of a dog. I can imagine him frowning. "That's all we gotta know, here."

They're tryna figure out whether or not we should leave the quarry. They say that here, we got clean water, and fish, and we got tall trees that cover the smoke from our campfires, and we got stability and routine, which is good for something called morale. They also say they've got a dying kid, and a duty to do everything they can to help, and they're not just gonna stand around and watch — They're gonna do something.

"This could all be for nothing. We're not even sure she's infected." Argues Jim. "It's fifty-fifty."

"And we'll pray to God she isn't," Agrees Rick, but with a catch. "But for her own safety, we're gonna act under the assumption that she is."

"Hey, man. All I'm thinking about is how much gas this thing's gotta cost us." Jim sounds like he means something else, but he's not saying it.

"Really, man?" T-Dog tsks.

My Daddy pipes up for the first time, and I can hear him smack the hood of a car. "It's gonna cost you yer life, if you ain't careful."

Rick puts on his police-man voice. "Hey. Nobody's saying the gas isn't worth it. We just need to be smart. That's all."

"Well, if that's the case, then you best see this guy out," Dad sasses, "'Cause he's stupid as a bag'a bricks."

"Seriously?" Jim laughs. "I got a hill-billy calling me stupid?"

I think my Dad swings at Jim's head, then, 'cause I can hear lots of hey, hey, hey and boots crunching on pebbles. I scootch over to the curtains and sweep 'em aside, 'cause I can't stand not lookin', anymore, and I wanna see Jim get punched. All the men of the camp are huddled around a map that's been flattened across the front of Shane's Jeep, and I see T-Dog and Glenn yanking my Dad away by his shirt, 'cause I was right, he took a swing at Jimmy's head. Rick's got himself between the two of 'em, with his hands on their chests.

They've settled down, now.

"Jim," Rick warns. "I think it's best if you just sit this one out, if you're not gonna have Harley's best interests in mind."

Jim spits on the ground. "I think it's best if I do."

I watch, and the group watches, as Jim walks himself back into the heart of camp.

"You wanna talk more 'bout my daughter, you sum'bitch," Dad yells after him, "You can talk into the barrel a'my gun!"

Jim disappears into a tent.

Rick rubs his forehead, 'cause his brain must be sore on the other side. They're all prolly thinkin', God, what an asshole.

They get back to business. They talk gas, and mileage, and they use three different pens and five different pencils, and they trace about a million different squiggly lines all over the map. They poke it and hum over it and turn it left and right, and they cover it in circles and crosses, and at one point, T-Dog comes back with five more, littler maps, and they study those ones, too. They have my best interests in mind. After a while, they seem to come to a decision. A good, solid decision. Rick gives a confident nod.

"All in favor of the CDC?"

Every last one of them raises their hand.

"Let do this thing, then."

We're goin' to the CDC. It's a real important building in the city that might save my life.

After Shane shares the news, everyone starts gettin' busy.

My Dad's taking down our tent, and folding down our chairs, and kicking dirt in our campfire. He's real ready to leave.

Glenn, he's real sad, 'cause his new car is getting torn to shreds for parts and gas that we're gonna need. He's a good sport about it, though, 'cause he's Glenn, and he's a good sport about everything. Rick's helping tie ropes around all the food and slotting it all into the RV's storage, and he doesn't complain one bit, 'cause Rick doesn't complain 'bout nothing, ever, 'cause he's a goody-two-shoes. Shane's handing out walkie-talkies and coachin' people on what channels to use, and how to use 'em. Andrea's sayin' goodbye to her sister's body.

The camp is slowly shrinking in on itself, into bags and trunks and pockets. We're really leaving. I wish we weren't. I wish I didn't have to go and get scratched. I wish we could stay here forever, and eat fish feasts, and build a tyre swing, and catch frogs in the lake.

Carol and Sophia come visit me and my Dad, while he's half-way done scrunching up our sleeping bags on the ground.

He catches wind of them before they're even close. "Hell you want?"

"Shane told me to pass this onto you," Carol shrugs, holding up a walkie-talkie as they come down the hill. "And Sophia would like to talk to Harley."

Dad stops messin' with the sleeping bag. He squints at the pair of 'em. "That right?"

"Mm-hmm," Carol hums. "If that's alright with her, of course."

Dad sends me a look that asks, Do you want me to shoo them away?

I'm not friends with Sophia, 'cause you can't be friends with someone you've never talked to. But I know she wears headbands that make her ears poke out, like a little mouse, and her favorite subject at school was spelling. We held a fake spelling bee 'bout a week ago and she won by, like, a million points, and she got a candy bar. I was never that good at words or numbers. My favorite subject was sport. But I got a candy bar, too, anyway.

I squirm a little on the picnic blanket I'm sitting on. I set down my crayon. "Okay," I say.

My Daddy goes back to working on the sleeping bag, and Carol talks to him 'bout the walkie. Sophia sits across from me.

Her Mom said she's got somethin' to say to me, but she's not sayin' a whole lot of anything.

Then, she mutters, "I'm sorry you might be dying."

Oh. I'm not sure what to say.

"My Mom told me you got scratched." Sophia's twirling her grubby shoelaces. "And that you might die. And that it was my Dad. I'm sorry."

I've gotten stares, and frowns, and tears, and I even got a pat on the shoulder from Glenn, but I haven't gotten any sorries. Not to my face.

"Don't be sorry," I say, 'cause sorry is only for when somethin's your fault. "I might not even be infected. It's fifty-fifty."

Last night, I was gettin' nightmares about Sophia's Dad. I saw his rolling, wet eyes and his nails — the ones that are the reason I'm half-dead — digging through my insides and throwing them over his shoulder, like he lost somethin' at the bottom of my organs and he was tryin' really hard to rip it out, snuffling like a warthog. I was sweatin' and screamin' and cryin' and my Daddy had to lay me on my stomach and lift my shirt up, and pet circles into my skin to get me to calm down.

It was real scary, but not Sophia's fault.

"Well, I'm— I'm still sorry." Sophia tells me, anyway.

She's eyein' the cable-knot on my shoulder. At least I'm fifty-fifty. Half-dead, half-alive. Sohpia's Dad, he's dead and gone, forever.

"I'm sorry 'bout your Dad," I try to smile.

Now, Sophia's not sure what to say.

"Don't be sorry." She decides on. "I don't think I miss him."

"You don't?" Aren't all Dads supposed to be missed? I'd miss mine. Real, real bad, every day. "Why not?"

"He was mean. He hit me."

Oh, that's nothin'. "My Daddy hits me, too."

Her eyebrows go shootin' up. "Really?"

"Yeah."

Sophia's Mom calls her name, with her hand held out, and she says they're heading back to camp, now, so say goodbye, and hurry along. Sophia glances at me, and she mutters another sorry. Then she scampers away, and she reminds me of a little mouse, again. My Dad's finished with the sleeping bags, now. He throws them in the bed of the truck and then all that's left is the blanket I'm sittin' on. He tugs on the corner and says, c'mon, girl, get. I pick up all my crayons. He folds the blanket like a giant piece of paper, and then he pins it under his arm.

"You ready to leave, chicken?" He holds out his hand, like Sohpia's Mom did.

I take one last look at the trees, and the campfire, and the spot my Uncle Merle's tent used to be. I say, goodbye, to the quarry in my head.

Then I grab my Dad's hand, and we walk away.

Author's Note. It might not seem like it, because there's only 3-5 scenes in every chapter I write, but I spend so long on them 😭 This one, overall, took roughly eight hours, plus editing. I almost don't believe it.

I hope you enjoyed sassy Daryl handing Jim's ass to him, ahah. He used to be such a menace in the early seasons.

This chapter didn't go out with a bang, which I prefer over milder endings like this one, but that's what the story called for! I don't choose. I just write. In the wise words of Michelangelo, "The sculpture is already in the stone. All I have to do is chisel it out." Haha.

Also, sorry Amy. She just couldn't escape her canon death.

As always, thank you so, so much for reading and commenting. I hope you take a look at the playlist, but the Pinterest board especially. I really think I managed to find the perfect pictures to represent this fanfic, which makes me so excited. I hope you look forward to the next chapter! :)

#the walking dead #twd #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon daughter #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #angst #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #rick grimes #daddy issues #reader

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trollblivion-ooc · 2 months

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DISCLAIMER: THIS IS NOT ALL CANON TO THE CURRENT STORY- I MADE THIS WHEN I WAS STILL MAKING THINGS UP!

THIS IS A PLOT DRAFT this is just something ive had in my drafts for a while !!!!

depicts probably canon topics in homestuck (typical death and injury.)

start: (still partially canon to the original timeline though (before endur))

Dream Sequence: Xxxxxx Lumeni: EO @enduring-oblivion

=> Your Name Is AKRINE LUMENI

(Original Timeline)

YOU are a GOLDBLOOD but previously thought you were a pure VIOLETBLOOD. Your morail is NORAXI AFROND, she is a BRONZEBLOOD.

This far caste relationship is RARE in this area, you two are prone to being picked at by a certain PURPLEBLOOD, who happens to have an issue with being violent and antagonistic.

Right now, that shithead PURPLEBLOOD named VIEVNA FISSUS is picking on your bull

What do you do?

=> Watch What Happens

You watch what happens, as you are currently too far away to deal with this prick right now, besides, your bull could handle herself.

Shes strong and confident and you have all faith in her to take care of this, thats what she usually does anyway when youre in the sea.

She is very beautiful and wonderful and your everything and you cannot live without her. especially after everything shes done for you.

She could handle herself.

Until she couldnt.

There Vievna was, tearing apart your bull, after having said vile words about her mark that you gave her of your golden heart symbol, which she was so proud of.

The mark that Vievna has slashed apart.

Which she loved. Oh, did she love

There she was being torn apart, wonderful bronze blood spilling onto the beautiful sand. and water

Thats all you can really focus on other than the soft wavering reflection of the pink moon on the edge of the sea behind her.

You are not frozen.

=> Get Him

You rush at him in a blind rage, pressure building in your temples underneath the skin of your lower pair of horns.

Those damned HORNS

You punch his face as hard as you can , ripping him away from your dearly beloved, who is quite silent for someone who just got mauled.

You punched him too hard,

M•YBE NOT H•RD ENOUGH!

The skin on your knuckles peel from the jab, gold waves of blood dripping out.

You look at his stupid fucking horns, that snake.

TH•T SN•KE!

=> Grab

You grab onto his right horn as hard as you can and you-

SNAP IT OFF!

You snap it off of his stupid head.

You hear shouts somewhere near you, yelling, calls

“Hey!” “+ holly shit !” “S0me0ne fucking st0b him!”

The pressure near your temples is building so much but you don’t care. You can only see red.

You’re going to kill him.

You’re going to tear him apart for what he did.

Do it.

Do it!

And you do.

You push him down

Near you, theres a sound meek and small but concerned, it doesn’t matter.

I he•r-

You hear an awful shattering sound right next to your facial fins, and feel a weight lift of you, pressure relieving from your temples.

Something horribly loud comes from the sky.

Rushing sounds of something else come from around you.

It doesn’t matter.

You’re about to bite off his face when- suddenly the sky changes in an instant, your feetpaws feel wet

Screaming, theres screaming around you, and another concerned and horrified sound.

No, a word.

€ Akr!…?

You glance and through your red haze you see-

And suddenly you can see again

And you look around

There are shards of… horn floating in the water nearby. you feel something sticky on your face, touching it and looking at your paw.

Gold shimmering liquid. you’re bleeding. you bring your hand higher.

pawing the air near your temples.

The empty air.

Your second pair of horns are gone.

Thats what you wanted right?

You shattered them with your rage somehow.

You didnt know you could do that.

You step closer to your bull, she looks wrong, wrong like youve never seen before, shaky and faint.

That golden heart of yours is almost gone from her skin.

You grab her shoulders, ignoring the water W•tr? that consumes your legs as you kneel down to your beloved.

Its like her eyes were turning white, you look around and-

a rainbow of colors in the water thats flooding in. bodies floating.

did…

did you do this? how did you do this?

=> Look Up

oh.

the moon.

youve broken it.

But violetbloods c•nt-

Youre not a violetblood, Akrine

What did you do.

I dont know- i-

Akrine.

…Yes?

Look down

….Oh.. oh no.. i-

Nor•?

You blew up the sky

I dont c•re- Nor•???

Stop shaking her, shes not going to wake up

Wh•t?????

Do you feel tired?

I do but-

Sleep.

=> Sleep

You wake up. you see a small troll that almost looks like you, it’s kind of funny, really.

Hes running around next to her lusus, isnt that cute?

Where is everyone?

Dont worry about that right now, can you stay with him for me?

With who?

The troll that looks almost like you in a funny way

I-…ok•y

Thank you, Remnant.

=> Hello Endur!

Im going to s•ve her

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preyandhunter · 5 months

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Flesh and Blood [The Masterlist]

Hey hi howdy.

here's a list of absolutely everyone ever that is going to be taking part in this story

[warning. looooong post ahead]

For reference:

Ghouls are ranked C - SS: C is the lowest, SS is borderline godlike.

Doves (not canon to tg) are ranked Tier's 1 - 4: 1 is the lowest, 4 is virtually unstoppable.

Disclaimer: we will not be using the hermits'/others' irl names. decided if it was funnier to make fake names for all of them based on usernames.

(in the actual story we will be using the names in quotation marks lol)

Buford "Bdubs" O'Hunred [Dove] :: Tier 2 - Machete Quinque - Wears a ghillie suit and thinks it looks cool

Bos "Beef" Vintage [Ghoul :: B Class - "The Butcher" Kokaku: Horns + Six legged Bull Kakuja - Dude wash your apron

Ben "Bigb" Biggie [Ghoul] :: B Class - "The Frog" Triple orange rinkaku tails - Teenage Mutant Ninja . . . froggie grown man!

Cub Goodfan [Ghoul] :: C Class - "The Magician" Ukaku vex wings - Of the two of them, really you'd think this one would be the crazy one

Cleo Zombie [Ghoul] :: A Class - "The Gorgon" Tiny wings + six snake tails - Her name could have led to some good brand opportunities

Dr. Maddox Sevensven "Doc" [Ghoul] :: A Class - "The Goat" Bone kokaku + Goatskull kakuja - The career change really made things complicated

Ethos "Etho" Lab [Dove] :: Tier 3 - Sniper quinque with high caliber Q bullets. - y'know what they call me? call me ladders. cuz i go up real high...

Fals "False" Symmetria [Dove] :: Tier 2 - Sword quinque, morphs into winged broadsword. - Oh her and Wels go waaaay back!

Fhwip "Fwip" Taylor [Dove] :: Tier 3 - Sickle quinque - Y'know what they say about younger siblings growing up to replace you? Yeah. That.

Gemini "Gem" Taylor [Dove] :: Tier 3 - Whipsword quinque. - Youngins these days kick butt way harder than they used to

Grian Spurman [Human] :: S Class* - Red wings quinque backpack - Some would say that's cannibalism O-o

Haech "Hbomb" Bomber [Dove] :: Tier 2 - Yknow back in my day

Hels Gnitte [Dove] :: Tier 2 - Spiderman pointing meme

Hypnos "Hypno" Tizzede [Human] :: n/a - Going once, going twice, sold to the man with no front teeth!

I Jevin Aquamarine Gaimen "Jevin" [Ghoul] :: A Class - Two bright blue bikaku tails - They say surfing is a sport in California. Don't know where the couches came from.

Impulse Essve [Human] :: n/a - Occupational hazard or not, he's getting his goddamn coffee

Iskall Eigh Fivva [Dove] :: Tier 1 - Non Newtonian bikaku blade quinque - (floppy)HAMMERTIME

Joel Beans Smallish [Human] :: n/a - Cast iron pans work wonders

Joseph "Joe" Hills [Human] :: n/a - Journalism just got way more dangerous

Kera Liss "Keralis" [Human*] :: n/a - Hmm, how'd you get there?

Lizzie D Shadowlady [Ghoul] :: C class - "Housecat" 3 toed talons kokaku - No officer, there's no one here, just this very cat like cat...

Martyn LilWood [Dove] :: Tier 2 - Standard sword quinque. Possibly with a rocket on the end. - Not quite taking the lone wolf schtick to heart

Mumbo K. Jumbo [Ghoul] :: B Class - "The Suit" Double kokaku claws - Mondays amiright

Pearl Escentmoon [Human] :: n/a - Worst. Field trip. Ever.

Pix Elrif [Ghoul] :: C class - "Automaton" Single tail bikaku - The cat distribution system but he is the cat

Ren Thedog [Ghoul] :: S class - "The Red Wolf" Single tail Rinkaku + wolf head kakuja - oh hey how you doing nice to meet- SQUIRREL???

Saus "Sausage" J Mythica [Human] :: n/a - The world's best chewy stress toy

Scar Goodfan [Ghoul] :: SS class -"The Vex" Ukaku vex wings + 2 bikaku tails + Perfect Kakuja - no chill having, no leg having, no craps given, no fear having ass

Scott Dangtha Longie Major [Dove] :: Tier 1 - Spear quinque - Doing his best ;w;

Skizz LeMann [Ghoul] :: C class - "Lucifer" 4 feathered rinkaku tails - One beer away from getting in the maid outfit

Tress "Stress" Monstre [Dove] :: Tier 2 - Warhammer quinque - Holds all of the tea. And yeah, that's a lot.

Tango Tekk [Ghoul] :: C class - "Helios" Single wing, combustible, ukaku - Is absolutely not compensating for anything

Tin Foilchef "TFC" [Dove] :: Tier 4 - Double edged scythe, polymorph, quinque - Judge, Justice and Executioner

Timothy "Jimmy" Solidarity [Ghoul] :: C class - "Canary" Deformed wing Ukaku - The vibe is strong with this one. That vibe was wet cat.

Wels K. Nite [Ghoul] :: B Class - "The Knight" Reptilian wing Ukaku - huh, well that's awkward

Xb Crafheld [Ghoul] :: A Class - "Guardian" Fused double tail bikaku - If he had a nickel every time he was friends with a suspicious man, he would have two nickels.

Xisuma "X" Vhoide [Dove] :: Tier 3 - Multiple quinques - Has one and a half eyeballs

Amusix "eX" Vhoide* [Dove] :: Tier 2 - Crossbow quinque - There's a crime here about to be committed...

Zed Aphlays [Ghoul] :: C class - "The Ram" Bikaku Sheep's foot - One good day away from committing arson

Zloy Exphee [Human] :: n/a - These journalists seriously need to chill.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #tokyo ghoul au #prey&hunters #theghoulera #phau #the ghoul era #hope u enjoyed the long reading >:3 #id tag every character but then we'd be here for another week #any questions are welcome to be asked #please ask me about them #im insane and i need to talk about them #mod box #character art coming soon

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whispersinthedawn · 1 year

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The Last of a Dying Breed (2)

She should have sung paeans, should have recited poems glorifying Apollo. She should have sacrificed a bull and not half a litre of her own blood. She should have spoken ritual words that she didn’t know.

Instead, all she had was the strength of her own conviction, the power of her desperation.

“Phoebus Apollo, Apollo Alexicacus,Apollo Iatromantis, Apollo Didymeus” she started hoarsely, uncertain as to why these names dropped off her lips, but willing to accept it as divine providence. “Lord of Delphi, Protector of Youth, please accept my plea. All I wish for is to be your Oracle. I promise to devote my life to you, to swear off any attachment but you. To speak your words as the only truth in the world, to lay myself at your feet and see only that which you wish me to see.”

Percy’s heart raced inside her chest, simultaneously terrified and strangely comforted by the almost ritual cadence of her words. These … were the wrong words for the Pythia, she knew that as soon as they left her lips. But these were the words she’d spoken, and so this was the promise she’d keep.

As long as Apollo accepted.

Percy looked down at the face reflected in the blood pooled on the floor. For a second, the strangest sense of disorientation struck her. Was that pale, stressed thing really her face? It looked dead already, like she’d been chewed up and spat out by the Minotaur whose horn lay on her bed.

As she waited, the same quiet refrain ran through her head.

If he couldn’t even do this, then what good was Apollo?

If she couldn’t even do this, then what good was Percy?

Like the quietest of sunrises, the room gradually lightened. The presence that filled the chamber, however, was anything but gentle.

A searing heat blasted Percy’s skin, threatening to roast her alive. Had her eyes been anywhere but at the floor, the sheer brilliance of Apollo’s appearance would have burned out her soul.

As it was, she instinctively slammed her eyes shut, rainbow dots sprinkling the back of her lids like confetti on a cake. Unwilling to present herself as a cowering child, however, Percy transitioned the act into a bow of subservience.

“Lord Apollo,” she murmured.

Only now that he stood in front of her, did Percy register just how badly she’d wished Apollo to ignore all her prayers as her own father had done her pleas.

Only now that he’d deigned to show up did she realise just how much trouble she was in.

“So, you are the intrepid soul who seeks to become my Pythia?” the god purred.

Percy dared blink open teary eyes, incongruously surprised to find a Greek god dressed in Celestial Bronze. Somewhere deep inside, she’d almost expected the gods who were so busy with the war to be garbed in the camouflage raiment utilised by the soldiers. But no, at least from the knee down, Apollo wore gleaming bronze armour and leather sandals.

His shoes clicked sharply against the wooden flooring as he circled her, but Percy kept her eyes on the ground. Her efforts to avoid giving offense for as long as possible didn’t last long, though.

Quick as the snakes that were his sacred animal, fingers of steel gripped her chin and wrenched her head up.

Percy gasped, shocked out of the terrified complaisance she’d fallen into.

Furious golden eyes caught ever-changing sea-green.

Percy’s heart stuttered.

She'd never before seen a god so radiant he’d moved straight past ethereal into inhuman. But even if she had, she rather thought there would never be another Phoebus Apollo.

“The audacity,” Apollo whispered.

Percy took in burnished gold curls, tanned skin, high cheekbones, sharp nose, and wide eyes, all shaded in an unreal light, and had the disconcerting realisation that rage suited gods.

Her father had never seemed so real in all their affectionate moments together as Apollo did now while on the verge of smiting her.

“Is it audacity to wish to devote my life to the spirit of Delphi?” she breathed out.

“It is when you don’t even know the correct words,” he snarled.

“Is ritual more important than true sentiment?” she demanded. “Would you rather I recite a few unfeeling, memorised verses … or that conviction forms the core of my words?”

He dropped her chin, rearing back like she was the cobra about to strike.

“Such bold words,” he said after a moment. “But is your conviction not directed solely towards your fellow demigods? What devotion will you afford me when all that runs through your head is how you may be of use to them?”

“All that is left in me,” Percy answered desperately.

Apollo laughed, a scathing denigration of her statement and existence in one. “And you believe one girl’s devotion is enough for me to accept just anyone who throws themselves at me?”

Percy shook her head, mind whirring through the possibilities, discarding one answer after the other at the speed of light. “It is not me you’re accepting,” she finally informed him far more calmly than she felt.

At Apollo’s quirked eyebrow, she continued delicately, “Your Oracle died today.”

At the growing thunderstorm on his brow, Percy hurried to ask, “Apollo Iatromantis, how many more of the people you have claimed as yours will die if you don’t accept me today?”

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#pjo #fanfiction #percy jackson #apollo #perpollo #Oracle Percy #fem percy #percy x apollo #the last of a dying breed

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definitely-not-samayoi · 11 months

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Saejima Taiga was sleeping restlessly. The sheet clung to his sweaty body, exhausted by the August heat, which did not stop even at night – except that crickets chirped instead of cicadas.

Saejima Taiga had a dream.

Blood, blood everywhere, why is there so much blood..? All the greenery of the bamboo grove was stained with scarlet strokes. Saejima darted feverishly between the trunks. His lungs felt as if they had become too large for his ribcage, each convulsive breath a blinding pain.

There was only more blood. Saejima's heart skipped a beat, as if anticipating the inevitable.

A tattered kimono stained with blood and dirt. The skin, pale to blue, was not the skin of the living person. That made it all the more frightening to look into the disfigured face, to see the torn eyelid and the ghastly gap in the empty eye socket.

The dead man turned his head toward him with difficulty, his caked purple lips whispering:

“Hirama…”

Saejima's eyes widened as he abruptly sat up on his futon and put his hand over his mouth, holding back a scream. Strange dreams had been keeping him awake lately. Saejima wearily ran his hands over his face and rose to his feet. After that bloody dream, a peaceful night seemed unattainable. He went to the bathroom and washed his face with ice-cold water, but this hardly helped him to organize his thoughts. Fortunately, he already had a recipe for dealing with this.

Saejima quickly dressed and went outside. Taking a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his gray pants, he lit one, exhaling the smoke with pleasure and greedily inhaling the damp air of the August night instead.

At that late hour, the street was deserted, although life in Kamurocho never stopped: the silence was broken by the sounds of music from all sorts of places, the neon snakes of signs brightly illuminated everything around. Saejima didn't like Kamurocho: too crowded, too noisy; however, there was no lack of work here.

Out of the corner of his eye, Saejima noticed that someone was approaching him with an unsteady gait. Just in case, he clenched his fist in his pants pocket, even though it was most likely just another drunk salaryman trying to find his way home.

The stranger was getting closer, and Saejima soon realized that he was mistaken – it was not an office worker at all, but a kid who looked smaller than Saejima by half a head, if not more. He could barely move his legs, holding his stomach. His narrow face was so covered in blood and dirt so that its features were hardly distinguishable.

However, this was not uncommon in Kamurocho either. Even Saejima couldn't always walk down to the konbini for a discounted evening soba and come back without a bruise or two. The kid, with his worn-out rags hanging loose, was an easy target.

The kid did not reach Saejima a couple of steps – his legs gave way, and he fell first to his knees and then to the ground, his face on the pavement.

Saejima sighed, threw the bull under his feet, extinguishing it with the toe of his sneaker. He was not a good Samaritan at all, but for some reason the thought of the kid dying right here in front of his apartment displeased him. What if he lay there all night, and the local kids, going to school in the morning, would see the body? Surely they'd be scared.

The thought of Yasuko stung his heart. Saejima imagined the menacingly furrowed eyebrows and clenched small fists. She certainly wouldn't be happy to see her adored older brother abandon someone in need.

Saejima walked over to the kid and gently rolled him onto his back. To his relief, the boy was breathing, albeit intermittently, and didn't seem intent on dying.

"Hey, you," Saejima called cautiously. “D'ya hear me?”

The kid struggled to open his blood-glued eyelashes. His left eye, swollen from the blow, did not manage to open.

“H…Hirama…” he whispered in a barely audible voice.

Saejima went cold. His brain worked feverishly, throwing up one crazy thought after another. Maybe it was just a coincidence? Maybe the kid had him confused with someone else, or maybe he was just calling someone in a delirium?

“Who the hell is Hirama?” Saejima tried his best not to lose his composure, but he realized his voice didn't sound quite as confident as he wanted it to.

But the kid didn't answer him anymore – he passed out.

Hoping from the bottom of his heart that the boy had no internal injuries, Saejima, not too elegantly, put him on his shoulder, surprised at the unexpected weight of his skinny body, and dragged him home. He wasn't sure what to do with him, but it was obvious that the kid definitely needed water and food, and he clearly needed to clean and disinfect the nasty-looking cut on his shoulder.

After dragging the kid into the apartment, Sagejima carefully laid him on the floor, then unfolded the futon belonging to Yasuko, and moved him there. The boy groaned weakly, and Saejima leaned closer to him to hear the soft voice.

"I'm fine." The kid turned his head towards Saejima, desperately trying to focus on him. “I'll be gone tomorrow, I promise.”

"Yeah." Saejima nodded. " Just tell me yer name first."

“Majima Goro.” The kid turned away from Saejima and closed his eyes again.

“Saejima Taiga. “Jima" is spelled as "island".

"Same," whispered Majima.

Now that Majima was awake, it was possible to take care of his wounds. Saejima brought a first aid kit from the bathroom and carefully dressed and bandaged the wound on his shoulder – Majima only sighed noisily through clenched teeth when Saejima touched the wound with a cotton swab soaked in antiseptic. After finishing with his wounds, Saejima decided that Majima needed to at least wash his face. Of course, it was not worth dragging him into the bath, and Saejima made do with a damp towel and a basin of water. Majima grimaced slightly as Saejima touched the towel to his face and hair, but didn't protest.

When he finished, Saejima put the towel aside and took a deep breath as if he were about to jump into the water. Most likely, Majima was not in a position to give detailed answers, but the question stung his gut so much that Saejima couldn't help himself.

"Majima... When I picked you up, you said somethin’ about Hirama. Who is he?”

Majima was silent, still not looking at him, and Saejima thought that he had lost consciousness again, but then Majima turned to him. His eyes burned feverishly, and Saejima felt a chill run down his spine. Majima looked like a man with nothing left to lose.

"You won't believe me, but I'll tell you anyway." Majima licked his parched lips, continuing to stare directly into Saejima's eyes. “I already know you. Or rather, not you, but another person who looks exactly like you. Or rather, I... It was as if I saw myself in a dream, but everything seemed to be happening a very long time ago – all these samurai folks, Shinsengumi, you understand?”

Saejima didn't really understand, but remembering his own strange dream, he nodded. Majima furrowed his brows doubtfully, but continued.

“So ... In these dreams, we were friends – no, more than friends, brothers even. Only the names were different. You… that is, a person similar to you was called Hirama Jusuke there. And was called Hirayama Goro.”

"I dream about that too," Saejima blurted out. “Last time. The night I found you, I dreamed that I…” He swallowed with an effort the sudden lump in his throat. “That I found yer body somewhere in the bamboo forest. It was covered in blood, and you... Well, you had yer eye gouged out, that's it. That's a helluva thing!”

With every word Saejima said, Majima's eyes widened until they finally formed two perfect circles.

"Oh," was all he could manage. “I see…”

Saejima didn't really believe in fate, but that night he felt that he and Majima were connected, whether they both wanted it or not.

#yakuza #saejima taiga #majima goro #saemaji #like a dragon ishin #nagakura shinpachi #okita souji #rgg #ficlet #ryu ga gotoku

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danbisroom · 3 days

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Ep. 18 - Shatter my long-frozen heart to carve the proof of my life

Hello my beloved fellow souls,

welcome back to Danbi’s Room, your weekly dose of safe space. Go grab a cup of something warm and get yourself cosy.

I hope you had a nice week where you had the opportunity to slow down, or maybe you received some kind of good news.

I was reflecting on words that start with the letter C. Creativity and creation. Counter-intuitive. Courage. Clay. Colour. Can, as in the verb meaning “to be able to”. Carving. Cycle.

I’ve just been through a death cycle. Actually, I’m still coming out of it. But that’s slow, as it should. Planted seeds need their time to sprout. Nebulas explode during a climax, birthing millions of new lives, but it takes time for new stars to actually form. It takes time for the snake to shed its skin and it itakes time for the caterpillar to shift into its butterfly form. Creation, gestation, birth, growth, death. The constant circular flow, always the same and always different. Death is an act of creation: in fact, there’s a magical moment where the two overlap, intertwining as lovers, holding each other tight.

Now I’m kind of hermiting inside my shell, feeling the first rays of filtered sunshine, until, in a bit, I’ll be able to crack it and fly high and to the Gods again. It’s just how things are, we need to give ourselves grace to love them, too. I know I always end up talking about love, but in all honesty, one way or another, it’s really just about that. And I always, constantly, feel it. Always. Even when I’m out of myself in the pits of desperation, I feel love. I feel love holding my soul and my body. If I think about it, it’s such a nice thing. It’s soft and fierce at the same time. I think there’s nothing like it, it is the ultimate synthesis of everything. So choose love. Choose to direct your energy towards things that serve you and your contentedness. Contradiction might hide truth and treasures. What’s evil can reveal a kind side. Even apparent stillness continuously swings, all the time. Just see for yourself: stand up, close your eyes and observe the little dance your body wisely choreographs. We find warmth in a cup of hot and fuming cocoa, but fresh blood is warm, too. We admire waterfalls, jewels of the forest, then why do we frown upon pearls falling from our eyes? Suppressing flows is always bad. There’s a difference between pause and stagnation. Connect your bare feet to soil, and feel all the earth within you. Whisper to a tree, and hear your ancestral mothers giving you answers. What were you before your current form? Maybe a holy bull guiding a people to their land. Maybe a daisy adorning a bride’s hair. Maybe both. If you look carefully and patiently inside yourself you might be able to see that. Whatever you find, love it. Don’t let go, take a little walk in the world inside, call your own names, rest on the knowledge this will never ever end, for eternity. Walk in, untie your hair, lose your breath, empty your lungs to gain new air every time. Breathing itself is the junction of life and death. Everything’s odd, but all the odds are in your favour, so be extraordinary. There’s no easy part, but don’t let the noise blind your senses, go live and breath in life. Count five stars making a yellow wood and let the levanter wind guide you through the maze, hearing the gentle tinkling of those same rocks we call stars. It grows and grows until you finally understand the sound is from within you. You? This massive accident generating a cascade that tells a neverending story? You? Me? I am not, you might say. I am who, to hold all of the universe in my hands? It’s because you are me, and I am you. If you lead the pack, then let me be the shield of your neck.

Today’s song recommendation is Ichizu (One Way), by King Gnu. As trippy as this episode, but also as deep and questioning.

I hope you enjoyed this episode and that you have a beautiful week ahead of you!

I’ll see you in the next one, big hug!

With love, yours,

Danbi

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tabsters · 11 months

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music symbolism time!!

hi y'all, less complicated post for today because I need to prepare for a flight tomorrow!

aight so basically we got twelve completely thought out playlists for each of the zodiacs, as well as FIFTY songs for fifty constellation voice claims!! this post is also gonna serve as the official introduction to every single constellation that exists in this story. if they're in here, they're an official character.

@mythicalmagical-monkeyman if you need twelve hour and a half long playlists to listen to while you're doing shit, I got the stuff right here!!

previous posts are here

Playlists:

Aries

Taurus

Gemini

Cancer

Leo

Virgo

Libra

Scorpio

Sagittarius

Capricorn

Aquarius

Pisces

Voice Claims (basically what I think they'd sound like IRL):

(side note: every single one of these songs offers insight into the character's backstory or personality. if you'd like me to explain the symbolism and reasons why I chose each song for each character, just ask :D)

Andromeda, The Princess: Strange Love by Halsey

Aquarius, The Water-bearer: World We Used To Know by Alan Walker

Aquila, The Eagle: Playground by Bea Miller

Ara, The Altar: Dance in the Dark by Au/Ra

Aries, The Ram: Play With Fire by Sam Tinnesz

Auriga, The Charioteer: Willow Tree by Cadmium

Cancer, The Crab: Memories by YUNGBLUD

Canes Venatici, The Hunting Dog: THAT BITCH by Bea Miller

Capricorn, The Goat: Pomegranate Lips by Derivakat

Cassiopeia, The Queen: What I Know Now by Annapantsu

Centaurus, The Centaur: Sweet Dreams by Holly Henry

Cepheus, The King: Royalty by Conor Maynard

Cetus, The Whale: Toxic by Boywithuke

Chamaeleon, The Chameleon: sorry haha I fell asleep by Egg

Columba, The Dove: Are You Satisfied? by MARINA

Corona Australis, The Southern Crown: Mad World by 2WEI

Corona Borealis, The Northern Crown: What A Wonderful World by 2WEI

Corvus, The Crow: Underneath The Mask by Royal & the Serpent

Crux, The Cross: Saints by Echos

Cygnus, The Swan: Ordinary by Joriah Kwame

Delphinus, The Dolphin: Siren by Kailee Morgue

Draco, The Dragon: Crossfire by Stephen

Gemini, The Twins: Super Slaughter by Jazmin Bean

Hercules, The Warrior: Blood // Water by grandson

Hydra, The Water Snake: Streets by AViVA

Lacerta, The Lizard: Ship in a Bottle by fin

Leo, The Lion: Hate Me by Nico Collins

Leo Minor, The Little Lion: Daisy by Ashnikko

Lepus, The Rabbit: Boss Bitch by Doja Cat

Libra, The Scales: My Shoes by Veronica Bravo

Lupus, The Wolf: Living in a Nightmare by Blacklite District

Lynx, The Lynx: Redemption by Besomorph

Lyra, The Lyre: SOLO by Jennie

Ophiuchus, The Serpent-Bearer: ilomilo by Billie Eilish

Orion, The Hunter: Diablo by Simon Curtis

Pavo, The Peacock: Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

Pegasus, The Pegasus: UNDERGROUND by Neoni

Perseus, The Hero: Epoch by The Living Tombstone

Phoenix, The Phoenix: Sweet Hibiscus Tea by Penelope Scott

Pisces, The Fishes: cut my fingers off by Ethan Bortnick

Piscis Austrinus, The Southern Fish : we fell in love in october by girl in red

Sagitta, The Arrow: Photo ID by Remi Wolf

Sagittarius, The Archer: Burn The House Down by AJR

Scorpio, The Scorpion: agoraphobic by CORPSE

Serpens, The Serpent: The Search by NF

Taurus, The Bull: Meteor Shower by Cavetown

Ursa Major, The Big Bear: Pure Imagination by Kathleen

Ursa Minor, The Little Bear: No Friends by Cadmium

Virgo, The Virgin: Born Without A Heart by Faouzia

Vulapeca, The Fox: abcdefu by GAYLE

JESUS THIS TOOK SO LONG TO TYPE OUT

if any links don't work, please tell me and I will correct it!

questions about my lore are greatly appreciated!!!

#oc #oc lore #zodiac #zodiacs #zodiac sign #zodiacs signs #constellations #zodiac lore

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figsandphiltatos · 2 years

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Braved by your Heart's Resolve

so i wrote what was supposed to be a one shot but is very clearly just the first chapter of a telemachus/peisistratus fanfic

i was inspired by this post by @majesnia. i don't know what happened but i was suddenly struck down by a telestratus hyperfixation and when i woke up from my fugue state this was on my laptop

read it on ao3 here!

Story: Braved by your Heart's Resolve

Characters: Telemachus of Ithaca, Peisistratus of Pylos, Athena, Polycaste of Pylos, Nestor of Pylos, Thrasymedes of Pylos

Pairing: Telemachus/Peisistratus

The sea pushed gently at Pylos’ shores, lazy and content and tinged a wine-dark red under the sun’s light. Small streams of blood ran along the sandbanks, only to be lapped up by the waves where they met. The shores were crowded with thousands of bodies, men and women bustling from place to place, or dancing, or praying. The roar of the crowd, the lowing of anxious bulls and the death cries of their peers, drowned out the usual sounds of the ocean which filled the coastal city.

Fires dotted the beach for those who had brought sacrifices to burn them, only preparing their own dinners after they had proved their piety. In the most crowded parts of the shoreline bodies jostled against one another, not more than a breath away from the next man. It was a sweaty, bloody, and euphoric event. The night before, seers and priests had foreseen that the festivities would be a successful and peaceful affair. Now, wine and blood stained the feet of the Pylians and Poseidon was pleased.

From where he sat, Peisistratus was well removed from the crowded realities of the festivities below. Fine blankets had been carefully laid over the sandbanks where his family was now seated, their banquet already awaiting them when they had arrived. King Nestor had given his libation and prayers first. He had stood atop the tallest sandbank and, only then, the shore had fallen into a comfortable silence as his booming voice rang out over the heads of his subjects. Faces had turned to him like plants did to the sun, their warrior king: an Argonaut first and then an Achaean hero at Troy, the great charioteer. Even the crashing waves on the beach had become hushed at his words.

“Hear me, Poseidon, tamer of horses and savior of ships,” Even in his old age, Nestor stood tall. There was no hunch to his back which so often overcame men of his age, nor any waver in his voice. His gray beard did not make him look old so much as it made him look wise. It was the kind of old age that so many young men envied even long before their joints started to grow stiff. “Bring our prayers to pass, be kindly in heart. Swell our spacious sails and protect those who travel the barren sea. Bring honor and glory with prosperous gales to Pylos.”

Thrasymedes, the eldest of his sons, spoke then. He was afforded some of the attention that his father had been, but the excitement of the festivities pulled many people away. He had the same prominent nose which graced the features of his fathers and brothers, large and bent not unlike the beak of an eagle when examined from the side. Despite his princely features, he had not the same commanding presence as his father. He, too, had fought in the Trojan war and many Pylians were proud to call him their prince. One day, he would be king. For this reason alone, many stayed to hear his prayer, eyes lifted to him in quiet reverence.

By the seventh and last prayer, all eyes had turned away. Peisistratus spoke his words to the sea god alone, knowing that the only eyes watching him were his family’s and, even still, some of them were restless to move on. Thasymedes’ son, only just reaching his tenth year, snaked a hand toward a plate piled high with cheeses only to have his arm slapped away by his mother.

Peisistratus prayed for good fortune, and for the safety of their merchants on the barren sea as his father had before him. Quietly, between only himself and Poseidon, he prayed for some kind of excitement. He prayed that he might be given a chance to sail on the barren sea himself, before his father paid the dowry of some noble bride for him. They were childish things to pray for, but Peisistratus hoped he might be forgiven for them all the same. He didn’t dare utter the words aloud.

When he lapsed into silence, his family took it as permission to begin eating. Gold and jewels which adorned the pale-armed wives of his brothers flashed in the sunlight as everyone reached for their wine, the meat, and the figs.

“These festivities were more fun when we were younger.” Polycaste leaned over to Peisistratus. She was his sister, and the closest in age of any of his siblings. They were both born only a few years before Helen of Sparta had been spirited away to Troy. The festivities which they remembered most fondly had been held in the absence of their father, and without the eldest of their brothers as well.

During those years, they had prayed that Poseidon would return their kin to them quickly once the war was over. Even now, the memories were fuzzy and distant. Peisistratus remembered the grasping hands of nurses, trying to rein him in during the long feast, and the distant look in his mother’s eyes as she gazed out to sea. He remembered breaking away from the watchful eyes of adults with Polycaste and splashing in the bloodstained sea.

“We always stained our clothes.” He remembered, shaking his head, but a smile tugged at his lips at the memory. Blood, even diluted as it was by the sea, still painted their chitons a dull and ugly brown once they dried.

“We always kept each other entertained.” Polycaste corrected him. She had the same dark hair as the rest of their siblings, framing her face in delicate curls. The finely woven shawl which hung loosely around her shoulders, dyed a rich blue, was a clear sign that she was of noble birth. Even the cool breeze from the sea could not chase off the summer heat, and no shawl was necessary to keep warm. But, all the women who sat with them now wore one, being princesses or the wives of princes.

Peisistratus hummed in agreement. “It was better than hearing for the thousandth time about Poseidon showing his strength at Ilium.” He whispered. If his father or brother overheard, they were sure to be furious.

Polycaste just laughed.

The sun made its slow arc along the sky. Festivals were a time of reverie for those allowed to enjoy them, but for the royal family they were just another banquet. For the common people, who spent the day dancing in ecstasy and eating the meat which had been slaughtered, it must have been a joyous occasion. For Peisistratus, it wasn’t unlike the banquets which his family held with grating regularity.

He daydreamed for most of it. Tomorrow he would be expected to return to his duties as captain to their languishing legions of soldiers—An entire restless generation, raised on stories of their fathers fighting at Troy. Perhaps if he had earned the position at their head he may have looked forward to his work, but it had been handed to him as had so many other things. Instead, his mind wandered to some life wholly imagined. It was hardly his own fault that he had been raised on stories of Argonauts and heroes like King Theseus and Perseus, for whom one of his brothers was named. None of them, aside from Thrasymedes, had been so lucky to have even a taste of adventure like the heroes of their stories.

The afternoon sun had been beating down on them relentlessly by the time a breathless herald kneeled in front of the fine blankets on which Peisistratus’ family sat.

“Eighty-one sleek black bulls, my king.” He reported the count of all which had been sacrificed. It was an impressive sum, to be sure. Four more than the year previous, and six more than the year before that. The number had only risen in the decade since Nestor’s return. Pylos itself, and Messenia beyond, poured forth its excess in thanks for his homecoming.

“Thank you.” Nestor gave a gracious bow of his head. “Now, don’t disrespect our dark-haired lord by scorning his festivities for work.”

The words were said like a reprimand, but there was a smile in the tone of his voice. The herald, still a young man with no hair on his chest, dared one glance at his king. His smile was bright like the sun and he nodded wordlessly before turning back to the festivities. Peisistratus watched as his feet kicked sand up behind them and he disappeared into the crowd beyond the sandbanks.

“Who is that?” Polycaste’s hand rested gently on Peisistratus’ shoulder, jolting him back to the present moment. He turned his head to look at her, and then followed her dark eyes to the figure which had stirred her curiosity.

A young man, no older than Peisistratus, was making his way up the beach. His reddish-brown hair was wild with sea wind, the look of a sailor coming home from a long journey. It was not a color of hair common in Pylos. His face was serious like that of a man on a mission, but fine and handsome in the way of princes. He was no one Peisistratus had ever seen before.

By his side was an older man, though there was something strange about his posture. He spoke in the young man’s ear, gray eyes burning with an intensity that unnerved Peisistratus, even from this distance.

“I do not know.” He admitted, curiosity burning in his chest. Without another word, he leaned forward to pour another golden cup of wine and stood. At the very least, it would be a travesty should his family not properly greet this newcomer.

The sand was hot under his feet as he approached the pair. The older man, having finished his scolding, turned his attention to Peisistratus. He felt his heart leap into his throat under his fiery gaze.

Behind him, his family had caught sight of the newcomers as well. They waved, fine fabrics fluttering in the wind with the motion. Peisistratus took hold of the strangers’ hands, pulling them toward where the fine throws had been laid out for his family. The young man’s hand was warm and soft, lighter in complexion than even Peisistratus’ own. The hand of a prince, he thought.

“Welcome, strangers.” As much as he may have wanted to address the younger man, Peisistratus spoke only to the older of the two. It would have been dishonorable to treat him dismissively. “Have you yet offered your prayers to Poseidon? That is for whom this festivity is being held.” He explained, offering the golden cup to the older man as they sat on the fleecy throw. “Once you’ve said your prayer and offered your libation, share this hearty wine with your companion so he can do the same.”

Placing the cup of spiced wine in the hands of the old man, Peisistratus felt some kind of jolt go through him. It was not unpleasant, like the feeling when some metal object unexpectedly zapped his fingers when he reached out, but was warm. The feeling was overwhelming, though, and something about the toothy grin of the older man made Peisistratus feel like the earth might swallow him up.

When the moment passed without calamity, and the old man began to say his prayers, Peisistratus turned his attention to the younger man. He startled, being met with two dark, brown eyes fixed on his. There was an intensity in the younger man, too, but it was more human. There was a weight to his stare, and it reminded Peisistratus of the first time he had seen his father after returning from Anatolia. It was the first memory of Nestor which Peisistratus had. His dark eyes and the weight that came with them. He had been young still, then, but in one glance his father had measured up the entire life he had lived in his absence. Great men had stares like that, he had concluded.

In his prayer, the old man gave the name of his travel companion: Telemachus. He prayed for safe passage home, and a swift resolution to some mission. As the old man poured his libation and passed along the wine, Peisistratus suddenly felt light headed. Poseidon had heard his prayer, silent as it may have been.

Telemachus repeated the prayer. Even when his words were echoes of another, they were captivating. His voice was clear and confident. A gift for speech like that was not given to common men. Peisistratus busied himself with preparing prime cuts for their guests. It was customary that they should be fed first. Curiosity chafed at him, but questions had to be saved. Even when it came time for asking them, it would not be left up to Peisistratus to speak. It was clear that guests such as these needed to be addressed by Nestor himself.

Mouths filled with food meant a lull in the conversation. Polycaste leaned around Peisistratus to get a better look at the handsome stranger. He knew his sister well, and the way she gathered courage to glance at him for only a moment didn’t escape his notice. He was kingly and handsome, sure to be a fine marriage match regardless of his lineage, and far more interesting than the throngs of Pylian nobility which had vied for Polycaste’s hand in marriage since before she could fully grasp the concept. Peisistratus could not begrudge her fascination.

And yet, whenever he looked over toward the stranger, his eyes were still fixed on him. Each time, Peisistratus hurriedly redirected his gaze, either to the ground or his food. It felt as though he was being scrutinized. Suddenly, his every movement felt arduous as he fretted over the right way to act. The newcomer should have been focused on Nestor, the other great man in their retinue, or perhaps even Thrasymedes. If the prince’s mind was preoccupied with thoughts similar to Polycaste’s, surely he should have been looking at her. It baffled Peisistratus that he should be the focus of any attention.

“Now that we’ve all enjoyed a hearty meal, my only interest is in our guests.” King Nestor spoke. Peisistratus watched his father smile graciously, a look which fit well on his worn face. The set of his wrinkles gave the impression that he had smiled often in his life. Even now, he was far from the dour old king one might expect. “What brings you to Pylos’ shores? Have you set off to trade your wares with our own merchants? Or perhaps you are pirates, here to risk your lives stealing our gold?”

Peisistratus could have told his father that he was wrong. He wondered if Nestor was playing some game with his guests, already aware that they were more than common houseguests. It did not seem like his father to be caught unaware.

For the first time, when Peisistratus glanced in the strangers’ direction, the younger of the two was not looking at him. Now, his steady gaze was fixed on the king of Pylos. “Nestor, son of Neleus,” His words were poised and well chosen. It was a sign of respect, to show he knew who his host was. Winged-words, Peisistratus had heard them called. Words chosen for men by gods who walked with them. His eyes slowly trailed over to the man sitting beside Telemachus, intense gray eyes burning in Nestor’s direction, now. “I am Telemachus of Ithaca, son of King Odysseus.”

At this, a hush rippled out from the fine blankets where they sat. Around them, the festivities were still. Odysseus’ fame was widespread. Many a night Nestor had regaled their banquets with stories of his clever brother in arms, raider of cities—The man who had devised the Trojan Horse, pride of the Achaean people.

“I’m seeking the truth about him. I wish to know his fate, wretched as it may have been. Many heroes were lost at Troy, but their stories are well-worn, now. We know of their resting places and how they came to meet their fate. The same is not true for my father. I only wish to know what you know about what became of him after the war.”

The world held its breath while he spoke. Polycaste rested her hand on Peisistratus’ while they heard his plea. One glance told Peisistratus all he needed to know about his sister’s feelings. Her eyebrows were pushed together in gentle concern, her wide eyes transfixed on the prince of Ithaca. She was enamored with him already. It was hard not to feel the same.

“Telemachus!” Nestor bellowed, face alight. He almost looked youthful in his excitement. “Now, there is a name I know well. Your father used it to identify himself among our ranks. Never was he Odysseus, son of Laertes, only Odysseus, father of Telemachus. And what a man you have become! Back then you were only a child.”

Peisistratus braced himself, for he knew what would come next. “You call back such memories…”

Nestor was not a bad storyteller. Peisistratus often wished that he had grown up with his father, being told of his time aboard the Argo or the story of his fight with Ereuthalion. But, being a young man now, and having heard the stories a million times, they began to lose their luster. Peisistratus settled down for what he was sure to be a long-winded answer to Telemachus’ relatively simple request.

No one knew of the fate of Odysseus. That was all that Peisistratus had ever heard on the matter.

Instead of saying as much, Nestor began with tales of the war at Ilium. He told of his friendship with Odysseus, about which Peisistratus had heard time and time again. Briefly, as Nestor commented on the Myrmidon’s return to Phthia, Peisistratus felt the weight of Telemachus’ gaze return to him. Determined to ignore it, he set his eyes on the ornate cup of wine in front of him. The gold was beaten thin, the scene of a bull hunt embossed on the outside by some expert craftsman. His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Polycaste bumping against him, giggling quietly to herself.

“He’s looking this way.” She whispered.

Beside her, their older brother, Aretus, shot them a sour look. Interrupting their father had always been akin to blasphemy, to him. Peisistratus glanced quickly in the prince’s direction, only to meet his eyes again. This time it was not him who averted his gaze, but Telemachus. He returned his focus to Nestor as if nothing had happened. Peisistratus took a moment to study him; the fine, straight line of his aristocratic nose, the way his hair looked more red in the sun than it did in the shade, his fan of thick eyelashes.

He tore his eyes away in time to hear his father say, “And you, my friend, you’ve grown to be tall and handsome yourself. Someday the gods will give you reason enough to be sung about, as well.”

The smile Telemachus shared at this praise was sheepish, almost shy. It was a crack in his facade. For a moment, he was not a shining prince, blessed by the gods, but just a boy, barely a man. Suddenly he was far more like Peisistratus. His age was easier to see, then, too. His inexperience and uncertainty peeking through for only a moment. He commended Nestor on his stories and then said, “If only the gods would visit me with such bravery. I would have happily taken revenge on the lawless suitors which crowd my hall at home. But the gods have different plans. For now, I must bear it.”

“I recall hearing about such a thing.” Nestor said. Peisistratus remembered hearing about it, as well. Politics and gossip often bled together in their halls. The stories of Queen Penelope and the ravenous suitors hoping to marry her were discussed by the nobles of the palace and whispered about by serving girls. Some tittered at the thought of so much attention, but most blanched at the thought of the impossible situation in which the Queen of Ithaca was trapped. “Do you allow your home to be abused?” It was not an accusatory question, but it may have come off as one. “If only the battle loving daughter of Zeus chose to love you like she did your father. Never have I seen an immortal show mortals such affection as Pallas openly showed him. If she stood by you, I am certain the suitors would flee your high-roofed halls.”

“Never, your majesty.” Telemachus’ response was quick, and came with a force with which he had not yet spoken. Peisistratus blinked in surprise. “I fear that will never come to pass. I am not my father.”

Humility was not something valued by their people, Peisistratus knew. Telemachus only said the words because he believed them, but to believe them seemed preposterous. Some ugly feeling settled in the Pylian prince’s chest. If he had the aid of the gods like Telemachus so clearly did, he never would have spurned it. If he had been sent on some mission by Pallas Athena herself he would have honored her for the rest of his days.

The gods walked with some men. Nestor spoke about how much love Athena lavished on Odysseus, but he had been the favorite of several deathless ones in his time. Heroes, those men were called, and Peisistratus had known Telemachus as one from the moment he saw him. And here he had the gall to act as if he were common. Some sour thing clawed at Peisistratus’ throat. Telemachus was the only son of a great king, clearly loved by the gods, and off on his own adventure. He had no knowledge of what it meant to be common. To be the youngest of six princes with no hopes for inheriting a kingdom or forging a legacy. He had no way to know what it felt like to see the face of an older brother he barely remembered cast in bronze and to wish to be him, to be remembered. No, Telemachus was not common. It was an insult for him to pretend to be.

“Telemachus!” The older man seemed to agree. He chastised the prince, those gray eyes fiery with disapproval. “You sound like a fool, doubting the gods and their plans.” He warned gravely. “I would rather wander for ten long years on the sea and come home to my loving wife and son than be murdered as King Agamemnon was.”

“Mentor,” Telemachus said, finally giving the old man a name. “Let’s not speak of my father’s return.” There was a pain in his voice, strained and tired, which suggested they had discussed it before. “What of Menelaus, King Nestor? Where was he when his brother was in such distress?”

More stories were to come. Nestor was happy to provide them. Once he had started to speak, telling the tale of King Menelaus’ long journey home from Troy, Telemachus’ eyes slid back towards Peisistratus. It was only then, when those deep brown eyes met his and Telemachus’ brow furrowed with concern, that Peisistratus realized he had been glaring. Hastily, he turned away.

As Nestor spoke, the sun sank lower in the sky. By the time he was finishing his tale, darkness had settled over them. Fires burned distantly, keeping the shore well-lit. “You should go, by ship or by land, to Lacedaemon. You can question King Menelaus yourself, press him for the whole truth. If you go by land my sons are at your service, as well as a chariot and a full team.” He promised.

“We must be on our way.” It was Mentor who spoke, not the young prince. Peisistratus could still feel his eyes on him. “You’ve told us such good stories, your majesty. But we had better think of sleep, returning to our sleek ships now that night has fallen.”

“I won’t have it!” Nestor was quick to reply. He looked aghast at the idea of sending the guests back to their ships for what would certainly be a restless night’s sleep. “You shouldn’t have to resort to sleeping on your ship while my house is so near. I won’t allow the son of my good friend Odysseus to bed down on a ship, not while I’m alive or my sons are left at home.”

“You’re right.” Mentor smiled, the same too-bright smile he had worn when Peisistratus had offered him wine. “Telemachus should oblige you.” He decided for the prince. “Let him follow you to your halls and sleep there. I’ll return to our ship and maintain order. The crew is full of young men, prone to folly. If he so pleases, Telemachus can go by chariot to the halls of King Menelaus, one of your sons can guide him along the way.”

There was the flutter of wings then and by some miracle an eagle took flight from behind the old man. Sitting where they did atop the throws, each of Nestor’s sons and their wives stared with wide eyes. Peisistratus suddenly felt the same lightheadedness he had earlier when he had spoken to the old man. A goddess, walking among them. Silent awe overtook them and, once again, Peisistratus fixed Telemachus with an incredulous stare. He had not only the favor of a god, but one who accompanied him.

“Dear boy, you have nothing to fear!” Nestor cried out in excitement. Peisistratus wondered if this was the first time he had seen the deathless daughter of Zeus since Troy. “It is clear that the gods favor you.” Quickly, he raised his head toward the heavens, where the eagle had disappeared, and said a quick prayer.

Peisistratus stared at the dark night sky where he’d last caught sight of the eagle’s wings. To himself, again, he said a small prayer: Glorious goddess, should his father choose a son to accompany Telemachus, let it be him.

#i'll probably put this on ao3 eventually but not tonight lol #telestratus #peisistratus #peisistratus of pylos #telemachus #i just so of‚‚‚ rip off the odyssey at times in this chapter #in my defense‚ i also looked up homeric hymns to get a better idea of how to write prayers?#nestor of pylos #homer #the odyssey #fanfic #man idk what to tag this as #but i hope it finds its audience ig #braved by your heart's resolve #bbyhr

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itzroboticgirl · 10 months

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"I Stole Your Heart" [Outlaw!Miguel x Shu] (Outlaw!Cars 2 AU)

...

Prologue

...

Spain is best known for flamenco dancing, Sangria, Bull fighting and its many fiestas. It is the largest country is Southern Europe and is mostly a Roman Catholic country. With a population of over fifty million inhabitants, and seventeen communities each having its own government, it is a widely diverse country.

It was somehow peaceful. It was a nice night in Spain, mostly people would go out for a festival, or parties. But someone was out walking after his day at College, as the kid of the Gonzales son heard the winds of Spain nippling through his veins and skin. He then looked at both sides of the street as he was ready to cross. He then heard footsteps coming up from behind him, he whipped his head around to see if anyone was there behind him.

But there was no one there. His trembling hands hovered just above his skin, his skin crawled and his bones rattled, his muscles screamed of a horror unseen. I feel fear in the hair on the back of his neck. He then crossed the street as he did, he then heard the footsteps again, but they stopped, he turned around then he started to feel more threatening, as he kept walking his eyes snapped open as he gasped.

He felt the most extreme pain in his chest. He slowly looked down at the blade of the sword as he looked horrified and teary eyed as he felt the red warm liquid coming out of his mouth as he looked behind him as he started to violently shake as he hyperventilated, but he knew that if he fought for his life it would be exhausting if he did fought the stranger. He then sighed and gagged and his breathing stopped as he fell to the ground lifelessly as he.

His eyes rolled up to the back of his head as his lids were shutting slowly, he then saw the stranger who stabbed him wearing a yellow-ish suit vest with white puffy sleeves, and he was wearing black gloves. He was wearing dark blue jeans with black cowboy boots with spurs but the jeans were covering them. He had brown golden hair, and he was wearing a hat that was black with an orange feather on it. He had green eyes.

His sword tightly clutched in his hand dripping with blood as he stared down at the helpless victim that he brutally killed. And he appeared to have a mask around his eyes as to make no one see him or who he was. Viscera spilled onto the ground. He then saw the light shining bright at him, he shield his eyes with his arm as it was time to go before someone caught him.

But he stared at the body once more as he glared at it, including it with a mirthless laugh.

"Buenas noches niño." He said with a grin. He then sprinted off into the night without a sound or anything to make anyone hear or see him, he was faster than a striking snake.

His name, his history, and his crimes. It was. Here he was. The outlaw Miguel Camino. Known for stealing jewels from museums, jewelry stores, and robbing banks.

He sprinted through the dark recesses of the city. No one could catch him, he was too fast, even if you could try to escape from him, he always got what he wanted. Always.

Then jumped his way up to the roof of the largest building of the world, to look at the city from a far view. He then knew he was missing something that he would want. But he doesn't know what he wants, he had everything that he wanted when he robbed or stole from other people, but he knows that he might need to steal it before anyone else would get it before him. Then he finally knew what he needed.

Miguel's eyes snapped open. "That's it," he said as he whispered to himself. "I'm in love! But I don't know who I would fall for..." He said in a somberly look as he dipped his head.

But he knew that it wouldn't stop him from capturing them if he needed to. Nothing will. And no one could. And he'll make sure of that. He stared off into the night sky as the constellations were shining so brightly. His green eyes were fixed on the sky as he glared at it. But he smiled bitterly as he chuckled.

"I'll find you my love..."

To be continued...

#Miguel Camino #outlaw #alternate universe #cars 2 (2011)#shu todoroki #gay #pansexual #miguel camino x shu todoroki

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potatos-messy-mind · 11 months

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So i decided to put this up here. I wil eventually be making one for Chun, no worries, but wanted to post this here for future reference for myself and anyone else who needs it. Since this is going to be a big reference sheet, I will include any and all reference images that are important. At the top are References for Tao's appearance, and below that are images of certain items he has with him at all times amd any other images that are relevant.

But first, I'm going to include each artist who drew the images, including the two so far that i've drawn. If any more images that relate to Tao's powers are made, I will update this with said image and the proper credit.

Artist creds

On Twitter: lupinebones77(Most of Tao's current refs aside from King and the inscence burner)

melocelli (Kaiju form)

torikalmia (King and the Incense burner)

deni_acp (Yang image)

On Deviantart: TropicalIndigo (Jinjing image)

My art: Tiger/Snow Leapord Hybrid, Li Yun(Electric/dark big cat).

Some general Info about Tao before we get into his powers.

Relationship Status: Taken by their partner/Fiancée Zihou

Age: est. 1500 (at least half the age of Wukong and Macaque)

Gender: Intersex (both male and female genetalia)

Pronouns: He/Him, She/Her, They/Them

Sexuality: Demisexual

Mental illnesses: Autism, ADHD, Anxiety, Depression, DID (magic makes this work somewhat differently in demons from how it presents irl), CPTSD

Physical Illnesses: Asthma, Pulmonary Atresia

Incense Burner/Ball and Chain Weapon

This incense burner is wrapped around Tao's waist and tends to spew some of his mist magic at any given time. It acts as both a weapon and storage. It can be used similarly to the ball and chain weapon from twilight princess, but can grow and shrink depending on what Tao needs. Misty spikes appear on the sphere when Tao is using it as a weapon.

King

A plushie made in Wukong's likeness that Macaque made for Tao when she was little. They told Macaque what clothes he wanted the little guy to wear, after seeing a future vision of baba wearing his more modern outfit. Has several small pocket dimensions inside of him that Tao can go into at any time.

Tao's Powers

Blessings of the White Snake

• Forked Tounge

• Hands(all four) can morph into snake heads

• Heatvision (Using his forked tounge.)

• More liquid/snakelike movement

Powers from Sun Wukong

72 Transformations

• Panda(Bear)

• Phoenix (Bird)

• Tiger/Snow Leapord hybrid (Big Cat)

• English Lop (Rabbit)

• Chow Chow (Dog)

• Long Eared Jeroba (Mouse)

• Chinese Moon/Silk Moth hybrid (Bug)

• Maine Coon (Domestic Cat)

• Datong (Horse)

• Impressed Tortise (Tortise)

• Yellow Pond Turtle (Turtle)

• Leatherback Turtle (Sea Turtle)

• Dulong Cow (Bull/Bovine)

• King Cobra/Burmese Python Hybrid (Snake)

• Chinese Water Dragon (Lizard)

• Tokay Gecko (Gecko)

• Chinese Alligator

• Eastern Dragon

• Yangtze Finless Porpoise (Porpoise)

• Hainan Eld's Deer

• Himilayan Marmot

• Steppe Polecat (Ferret)

• Asian Small-Clawed Otter

• Asian Badger

• Rhesus Macaque/Golden Snub Nosed Monkey Hybrid

108,000 Leap Somersault

Useful, but can cause Tao to have an asthma attack if preformed too fast or in a place with lots of debris.

Chi Manipulation

Mainly used in exorcisms and not in actual combat with living beings.

Flight

Loves soaring all on her own. can use his body to propel himself around and even gets help from the wind.

Replication/Shadow Cloning

Makes misty clones that can take on a physical appearance if nessicary.

Telepathic communication/Astral Projection

Has links to Wukong, Macaque, Chun and Zihou, but can easily astral project to anyone so long as they accept.

Flaming Fist of Fury

Strengthened by the Yang Samadhi fire to dangerous levels

Lazer eyes

Has the ability to use this power, but has never done so.

Gold Vision

Capable of using this in it's original state, and an altered version that allows him to see as if he wasn't blind.

Kaiju Form/Smoke Generation

Inherited from both parents (I will go i to more detail about his Kaiju in Macaque's section.)

Powers from Liu Er (Macaque)

Enhanced Hearing

Although Tao only has one extra set of ears, his hearing is still very sensitive.

Shadow Manipulation

Tao's shadows are more fluid-like in appearance compared to Macaque's.

She is capable of calling upon their mother's shadows should he ever find the need to.

Shadow Cloning/Replication

Clones usually take on a misty, cloud-like appearance, but have the ability to turn into identical clones to the original. Shadow clones of Macaque's can also be summoned if needed.

Shadow Transportation

Tao can use this ability easily, and the shadows tend to do most of the work for him. Macaque can sense each time Tao uses the shadows to warp.

Smoke Generation /Kaiju form

A misty form with a stone-like mask and chest plate with all four of the hands being stone as well as some stone bits around her wrists and tail. This form has three alternate forms depending on Tao's mood and the element that corresponds to it.

The Kaiju's base form

Height: Mainly between 120 Meters (394 Feet) and 158 Meters (521 feet), but can shrink to smaller heights. (Imagine the heights between Godzilla in Godzilla vs. Kong and King Ghidorah)

Fire Form

Uses the Yang half of the Samadhi Fire to further fuel itself. The base form has only parts of Tao's hair, the twin tips of his tail and around his wrists ignite, the same places where his stone parts are excluding the stone mask and chest piece. This differs fron his fiery wrath form, in which the entire body of the kaiju is engulfed in flames, which burn any and all they come in contact with.

Water Form

Uses the primal power of Tao's water abilities to fuel it. This form is rarely used for fighting and more as a method of escape, as it can seemingly 'melt' into any large body of water and vanish. Every time this form appears, heavy monsoon-like rains follow. This form is completely made of water with the exception of the stone bits.

Dual Form

A mix of all three forms and is the most destructive in terms of passive property damage. It has currently never been used, and for good reason. It's power alone rivals the power of the primordeal gods of old. The Yang Samadhi fire is unaffected by the water from this kaiju.

Powers Unique to Tao

• Echolocation

• True Sight (A modified verison of Gold Vision that allows Tao to see as if he wasn't blind)

• Familiar creation, allowed him to summon a unique companion based deeply on his personality. There are currently three. These three count as pokemon in the Pokemon AU I have for Tao.

Yang (Height: 9'2" Feet)

A fiery ghost dog that has been Tao's friend and companion since they were young. He used to be a living being, a half hellhound. Died protecting his master, and once in the Diyu he became so distraught and enraged over his master still being in danger that he singlehandedly broke out of the Underworld by digging himself out. His flames were so intense at that point that no one could get close without severe casualty to their person, not even the 10 kings. He lost all skin on his paws and head aside from his ears in the act, and successfully escaped to return to his master's side.

He is the only being aside from Wukong that has successfully escaped the Diyu, and since his only goal was to be reunited with his master, the ten kings decided it wasn't worth trying to bring him back. His bays, barks and howls is so intimidating that most sane beings will instinctively flee upon hearing it. He is semi-incorporeal. he consumed his own body as a spirit upon returning to battle and can choose to be more ghost-like or not. Yang often stays in Tao's incense burner/pokeball, or his master's shadow when not needed at that moment. Yang can control his flames to the point that allies will not be burned by them, but instead feel very warm. He's the perfect heater on cold winter days.

Jinjing (Height: 3'5" Feet)

A spunky fishy fox familiar that has also been with Tao since she was young. She acts like a service animal when Tao goes out and about, since Yang and Li are too big to do so without issue. Yang may be able to phase through walls but his Aura is extremely intimidating even for Erlang's hounds. and Li is far too big to be able to fit comfortably in most places. Jinjing knows DPT, can retrieve Tao's medicine on command, and helps to break them out of anything from a spiraling episode to ADHD paralysis (Not a medical term). Those big blue flowing antennae can act as hands if she really wants to use them. The webbed collar is backwards to help with drag in the water. when she flips it out, it helps slow her down in the water and causes drag. She can also inflate it enough to keep her head above water.

Li Yun (Height: 6'0" Feet)

The newest of the familiars, Li is the second most intimidating of the them. They can summon lightning storms at will and are capable of absorbing electricity. Their barks can sound for miles, and wherever they step, thunder and lightning are said to follow. They are generally neutral in most affairs and are more reserved than their Fire and Water counterparts. If Li isn't running about and stretching their legs, they're either in Tao's incense burner/their pokeball, patrolling Megaopolis from the rooftops, or by their Master's side.

• Feelers by his ears that allow him to sense the most subtle changes in the atmosphere.

Past/Future Sight

Able to see into the past or future. This ability is very different how his mother Liu Er sees into the past and future. Tao can only see one type of vision at a time. The triggers for both visions are very different and he can only see one type at a time. The inner color of his each represent the past (Purple) and the future (Yellow). When having either vision, his eye swill glow a pearlescent white color, and some kind of sparkling dust matching the color of the inside ear comes out of the corresponding set of ears.

The past visions are usually triggered by physically touching an object that either has a spirit or spiritual energy attached. Places that have a lot of spiritual energy can also trigger a vision the moment Tao finds a high enough concentration of energy. Sometimes he will move around during these visions, coming to in places he didn't pass out in.

Future visions are different with the exception of the glowing eyes and yellow dust. These visions can happen at any time, and leave Tao completely immobile until it ends.

Those who ingest the dust from either set of ears will temporarily gain the ability of future sight or past visions. These only have one use and may drive one mad the more they ingest. Humans and demons from all over sought to capture Tao for his oracle abilities, and to collect the dust he creates during a future vision.

Yang Samadhi Fire

Unlike what has been told about this powerful flame, in reality it was split into two seperate pieces long before the birth of Red Son. Tao possesses the 'Yang Half' of this flame, equally as powerful as the 'Yin' Half Red Son was born with. What is different about this flame is that ist is less likely to be triggered by emotion, but for Tao anger is the only trigger outside of activating the flames himself.

The flame tends to have more untriggered power behind it despite being of equal power to the Yin half. This flame tends to have a higher power output in the spring and summer months in accordance to Yin and Yang. It is a calmer flame compared to the Yin half, which feeds off of the emotions of it's host, and in Red Son and Mei's case makes it harder for the host to control their emotions.

The Yang Half of the flames is the only thing capable of completely calming the flames of the Yin.

In the primal days, the combined flames were said to scorch anything it touched into nothing, and was split in two in an attempt to mitigate the intense damage it caused when it raged unchecked. For the time being, the Samadhi Fire will remain seperated until the proper time.

Water Manipulation The ability to use and manipulate water (In a similar mannter to the water benders of ATLA, but with some differences.) to his whim.

Thanks to the maleability of the water in his body plus the blessing of the White Snake, Tao is able to extend his limbs far past their normal limits. when using this ability they can move around as if there are no bones in his arms. They can also extend and retract at will.

An extension of this ability is an extremely dangerous one,

Blood Bending

Tao is able to control the blood of living beings, being completely capable of controlling their bodies. Most beings can attempt to resist and break free, but anyone blood related to Tao will be unable to control their body until he releases them. This only works on Wukong, Macaque and Chun. Tao doesn't like using this power often, however he often uses liquid bending to help defeat any construct that uses a similar circulatory-like system.

When they were younger, Tao would often cause some unintentional issues, as when she cried, rain would start to fall in a certain raduis around him and quickly become monsoon level rains if left unchecked.

Siren Song

Tao has a singing voice similar to the likes of sea sirens, being able to influence and/or control others through his voice. His voice is also powerful enough to rip flesh off of bone should he choose to use it, or cause the user hearing it to go mad. However this power is rarely used due to Tao not wanting to cause potential death and/or property damage. The inside of her mouth glows yellow when using this ability. Glamours/Illusions

Tao can use glamour to take on a human appearance at any time, and prefers to not look so much like a monkie. He can also make illusions with his shadow abilities.

Water Warping/Portals

Tao is capable of using a very unique method of travel similar to shadow warping. The main difference is the stream of magic that is being used. Warping through water is usually done by oracles, as the stream of water magic used to travel is also the closest to the timespace stream, the flow of time and space around that entire dimension, In it's own pocket dimension, a seemingly strange place where water flows around breathable air in a tubelike tunnel from all sides. This is an area that only oracles can access, and with the floating islands scattered about it is safe for them to make living areas there.

Water Portals

These take more concentration to use, but are very handy for travel; as the requirement for warping is different. Unless the place is somewhere Tao has visited before, he can warp to and from any large puddle or body of water to anywhere in the world, even places he hasnt visited before.

Tao can also breathe underwater, but doesn't really need to breathe at all.

Primal Diety

Tao and his sister have full control over certain elements, regardless of the control gods from China and other pantheons have. In other words, an example being that the gods of the sea (ex. Posiedon) loose their control if Tao extends his control of water to the entire planet, same with fire.

Misty Form

Tao can turn himself into mist at will and change back at any time. He is more succeptable to being trapped in items like jars with an airtight lid or enchanted items of the same ilk, but he can return to a shrunken form at any time, or change back to his normal size and potentially break the item holding him if it isn't strong enough to contain him.

Fairly Recent Abilities

Tao was kidnapped by the Spider Queen some time during her attempted takeover of Megaopolis in the season 2 finale. See tried to turn them into a spider demon, but the only thing the venom did was give her silk glands in her hands that produce high quality enchanted silk (Silk moth like silk). This is abnormal since there is no other creature that can create enchanted silk naturally, so Spider Queen took quick advantage of this, using Tao as a silk producer for her takeover. Unfortunately making so much silk at once caused Tao's pawpads to become agitated and inflamed, and they stopped producing enchanted silk. Fortunately he managed to escape before the Lady Bone Demon tried to capture him for his half of the Samadhi fire.

The silk strands come out through the pawpads on their hands, and by pressing them together and stretching his arms apart, the silk forms into thick, glowing strands with each motion. This raw material can be used in many products from clothing to armor to fabric.

Misc. Info

• Tao is capable of storing immense amounts of magical power and has more potent magic than his twin sister. His snake heads, when not hands can sink their fangs into a person and suck their life essence and even their soul from their body.

• They a connection to death and the 10 kings, and his mist magic is capable of acting on its own and raising the dead, mainly those who's lives were tragically cut short.

• She sometimes sleepwalks, and depending on the phase of the tide, either moves around like a slow shambling zombie (low tide) or gets aggressive in his sleep and goes into water kaiju form (High Tide). this is one of the only times the water form becomes aggressive.

• Being physically intersex leaves him a target for European alchemists from all over.

• Sometimes purple and gold christhamanthemums spring from her bare feet whenever they touch natural ground. (Think Amaterasu from okami when she runs) these flowers have very potent medical properties.

• Their familiars are an extension of his magic and personality given form, and usually reside in his incense burner/Pokeballs/Shadow (Yang only) when not needed or resting.

• Her fire antlers were once crystal-like purple horns, that upon awakening the samadhi fire burst into flame. These flames started small in the beginning, but grew with age. They shrink to a smaller size during sleep.

That's everything I have at this time! This will be updated each time there is a change or new reference image. If you've read this far, thank you for actually reading all the way through! I would give you a cookie if I could. Tao is one of my most developed OCs, and I hope you've enjoyed reading this, I put a lot of research into him and the AU he's a part of as a whole, and I can go into more detail on the world building I've done at a later date if anyone is interested!

#lego monkie kid oc #commissioned art #shadowpeach fankid #powers and abilities #my art #not my art #Tao Yin

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noctivague · 1 year

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I posted 550 times in 2022

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Blogs I reblogged the most:

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I tagged 418 of my posts in 2022

Only 24% of my posts had no tags

#altar - 41 posts

#sculpture - 38 posts

#painting - 37 posts

#illustration - 34 posts

#apollo - 30 posts

#hekate - 27 posts

#apollon - 26 posts

#aphrodite - 26 posts

#artemis - 25 posts

#demeter - 24 posts

Longest Tag: 124 characters

#sometimes i want to do that and start writing posts but i end up discarding them because idk it feels too much to share that

My Top Posts in 2022:

Incense blends for the Gods (part 2)

Link to part 1 here.

Link to my post about incense in ancient greece

Haven't done this in a whiiiile but I'm running low on my incense stocks so I'm starting to think about those blends again.

Once again, this is partly historical and partly UPG, so use this as an inspiration if you want and get creative !

In the months to come I will probably put some of these to the test and review how they feel and smell, because ultimately what matters is that the scent is pleasant to the gods and that you took time and effort to craft something special !

Hekate

Dragon blood - she is often associated with snakes and dragons, one of her epithets is drakaina, so naturally my mind wantered to this resin. So yeah, a poetic association. Plus I love the scent.

Saffron - this one is more historical as this spice and its color is associated to the goddess

Cypress (leaves or wood) - a tree associated with death which I picked due to Her psychopomp role

Yew - historically put around the neck of bulls ready to be sacrificed to Her, also burnt on funeral pyres

Dionysos

Labdanum - a thick and resinous product with a very instense and intoxicating scent

Pine resin - his thyrsos has a pine cone at the top so pine resin seems really fitting. Of course would be better to use a mediterranean pine but I think you can broaden a bit

Frankincense/Olibanum - as per the orphic hymn

Bay Leaves - connected to the meanads

Zeus

Oak (leaves of wood) - sacred to Zeus

Sage - it is said that he was raised under a sage bush

Storax/benzoin - as per the orphic hymn (see my other post)

Frankincense - as per the orphic hymn

Persephone

Violets (dried or scented incense) - she was plucking violets when she was captured by Hades

Lilies - same reason -> could work with roses as well

Patchouli - a rather odd combination you make think but to me it has a really earthy and nostalgic/sad scent to me and one that goes well with flowers

Benzoin/Storax - a ceremonial scent that would fit her role as Queen of the Underworld

129 notes - Posted August 15, 2022

See the full post

158 notes - Posted June 10, 2022

Incense blends for the Gods (part 1)

A while ago I made a post about incense in Ancient Greece, and following that I really wanted to make my own incense blends for the gods as a way to have something I could dedicate to them and them only. I'm going to focus on the five gods I currently worship but if y'all are interested I can do more ! Since I already made a list of which incense is historically attested for which deity, I'm going to go a bit beyond that. I got inspiration from the historical links but I also picked things intuitively and relied on UPG.

There are no measurments as I haven't gotten to make these just yet (it's planned for next month) so this is currently a theoric recipe.

Grind everything in a mortar and mix together and store away from the light.

Note that I find all my incense from this french website which has incredible quality and really great prices, so if you're in Europe it's worth considering. I have no idea where people elsewhere might go to! Etsy perhaps?

Hermes

Indian/golden Benzoin - I tried many different types of benzoin and I found that this one is the sweetest of them all and the one that brings the most joy to my heart, hence why it seemed the most fitting to him

Dried lavender - a calming herb that smells delicious when burnt and that I associate with him (and I'm apparently not the only one)

Cinnamon - great because you can buy it in a supermarket, use either powder or sticks that you will break. Cinnamon is a common UPG and a scent that brings warmth to the whole mix.

Saffron - comes from the crocus flower which is associated to him. Quite pricey so you don't need to put tons of it.

Apollo

Oliban - Solar incense by excellence, this smells bright and confident to me. There are different types for different budgets so pick the one that suits yours the best.

Laurel leaves - historically attested and one I like to use for its purifying properties

Cloves - Smells incredible and brings warmth to the overall fragrance, one that I find to be solar as well.

Amber - it is known as a stone that is symbolically connected to the sun, but did you know it was also used as an incense since it's a resin ? To me amber feels like solidified sunrays so I thought it would fit nicely in the mix.

Artemis

Mugwort - also called Artemisia, this plant has a particular scent but one that works, I think, nicely for her someone just told me mugwort is toxic when burnt, which I didn't know! So please don't use that ! A good alternative would be sage

Cedarwood - Cedar is said to be associated to her and smells lovely. Note that cedar resin is also a thing so you can use that instead if it's more available to you.

Pine tree resin - I wanted something that reminded me of a forest for the Goddess of the Hunt and I thought pine resin would fit quite nicely.

Demeter

Barley seeds - historically attested and symbolically connected to the goddess and her title of Lady of the Grain

Mint - also historically attested (used in the Eleusinian Mysteries)

Elemi gum - a sticky ingredients that has a citrusy and woody smell and one I associate with her.

Aphrodite

Myrrh - symbolically seen as a feminine incense and one I find both beautiful and sensual, which is why I think it's suited to her. As to what type of myrrh you should use, obviously better quality will be more expensive and I found that they smell even better, so go with your budget!

Rose - for this use either dried flowers or rose scented granules such as these. This flower is perhaps THE aphrodisian flower so I couldn't not use it.

Jasmin - same deal than with the rose, use flowers or scented granules. This flower has a sensual and voluptuous smell that is perfect for this goddess.

Sandalwood - a delicious scent that mixes quite well with the other used in this blend and one that I associate with her.

228 notes - Posted January 30, 2022

☀️ Apollo devotional acts ☀️

Hello it's me again with a post I was meant to put online three weeks ago! I've done several of these: Artemis - Demeter - I also made one for Hermes during my 30 days challenge but I've just realized it's quite short so I will be making a new one again at some point in the future.

See the full post

323 notes - Posted March 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See the full post

340 notes - Posted July 31, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#Lmao my longest tag is about me not sharing enough #There's room for improvement

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brandonwayneb · 2 years

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anyone free to healthy pathology

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My insect 🐞 smallest I see 👁️

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My porcupine 🦔 quills to class-cup questions ☝🏽

My elephant 🐘 my memory 🧠 element ⚛️

My alien gray 👽 survive x-ray 🩻

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My ghost 👻 boo book 📕

My dinosaur 🦕 to not die too sore 💀

My skunk 🦨 to base bunk 📡

My frog 🐸 to transmog ⚧️

My owl🦉to see ‘who & how’ 👀

My mouse 🐭 mystery 🧐

My cricket 🦗 cherp church ⛪️

My lion 🦁 lords

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My genie 🧞‍♂️ genetic 🧬 magnetic 🧲

My bull 🐂 noble 🤴🏽 taurus ♉️

My kangaroo 🦘 can-go-around-you-&-over-kangaroo-court-contorts 🫰🏼

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My dragon 🐉 justice loud & proud drag 👗

My squirrel 🐿️ faster to quarrelsome

My squid 🦑 squirt 💦

My octopus 🐙 puss 😸

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My May 📅 flower 🌸 (born May 6th) 6️⃣

Brandon Wayne Burdett

Lives Life with minimal regret 🤗

Living Life quality survival war vets ⛑️

decided I loved 💕 you ever since we met 🫱🏽‍🫲🏾

BEST WORLD 🌍 BEST NEWS 🗞️ EFFORTS 💥 PSY 🧠 PSA 🗣️ WORLD EARLS 🤴🏽 EARS

World Ordeals World Organizations World Or Again Gain Ordeals

denounce “www tess tesseract glass cube.”

denounce “stress issue tissue TIL TILE”

denounce “RUB-EX, RUBIX CUBE MIRRORS”

denounce “www white wire t rex wax vexlore”

denounce “mega micro mall tezz TIL Tess.”

denounce “TILT TALT TIZZLE FAULT ALT”

www wex ex line mega mall tesseract

tesseract coils CO OILS SOILS SEALS

tesseract glass mirror laser trip wires

www wex wire line micro megaphone malls

“galaxy EX EX PRESS PREZ candy throats.”

“tesseract cubes lasers mirrors glass wires.”

mega mall static noise generator “white noise”

“test TIL.”

🇺🇸🇩🇪🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿: America German England

🔵⚪️🟡: Blue, White, Yellow

🇮🇳: “blame Indian Chicken Hen Tye mix asain”

🏯: Blame any asain country ass PAN cUNtry

🪑🛏️: Red Indian Leather Jerk Pan Try Key 🔑

🪑🛏️: Red Irish blame greedy red cherrywood

🪑🛏️: African, can metal tin foil pan, star fish.

🪑🛏️🦖: Fossile Steel Sickle Foils Oils Ink

👳🏽‍♀️🕌⛽️: Blame Ass Odd Muzzle Fizzle

🌽🚌✏️: Corn KKK Kob Lore Door Knobs

🦈💉🚪: Vacuum Door Salesmen Genocides

🐢🕊️⏲️: Turdle and Dove Blender Horrors

🍎🍏🧃: Wear Down Programs, App Reels

🐺🐑🐏: Perverse Culling Cycles Genocide

🐻🐻‍❄️🐼: Bear Brothers Bully Gang

💩💰🐥: Cheap Chicken Checker Board Shit

🥖🏄🏽‍♀️🛋️ : Bread Basket Shopping Cart Box

🐓🏭🦠: Coop Co-Op Perverse Farm Cycles

🧊💉🐓🦠: Shingle Pox Chicken Pox

🧊💉🦆🦠: Shingle Bux Duck Pox

🧊💉🦢🦠: Shingle Gox Goose Pox

🧊💉🐖🦠: Shingle Swine Spawn Pig Pox

🧊💉🥤🦠: Bubble Box Soda Pox

🥾👅💩: Boot Licker Desk Maggots

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🥸🤓🤓: Rich 🤑 Extortions

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🐚🦴🥟: Deflections, Clams, Deaths

🧊🥛🥤: Death ☠️

🍢🍡🍭: Lolly Gag Stunts

🍿🍩🍭: Death Camping Murder Routes

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🍽️🫖🍾: Murder Schemes

🦅🦉🦆: Play Dumb Perverse Sportsmanship

🍋🧀🧅: Lemon, Cheese, Onion

🥒🫒🌽: Sell “Genocide” Routes “que, olive.”

🥔🍎🌭: “pot of toes water office cooler”

🎬💿🍆: Movie “Show” “Set” CUTSCENES

💈💇🏼‍♂️🦁: Cut Scenes, Humiliation, Programs

💉🐹🦠: HAMSTER POX

💉🐀🦠: LAB RAT POX

💉🐁🦠: LAB RAT POX

🎤🐭🪤: Micro Mouse PC MAZE LAP TOPS

🍳🪺🧺: Bleach Brain Scrables Eggs

👟🧦🚾: Rubber, Shoes, Socks, Office Cooler

🧱🫖❄️: Throw Tea Pots, Snowglobes, Bricks

🛹🛹 🤕: Skat Skare skate Board Headache

🛷🛷 🤕: Slay Fray Dismay Speed Hate Rate

⛸️⛸️ 🤕: Ice Skate Blade Secret Assaults

⛳️⛳️ 🤕: “go off” “offline” escape to false lay

⛵️🤑🕳️ : “rift raft war raft send post broken.”

🏅🎟️🏅 : False Paper Badges, Stolen Honors

🚑🏴‍☠️🧩: Ice Fridge Clown Pirate Genocides

🩼🛵🦽: Cripple Cry Pull Mistreatments

🤿🎣🛵: Scoopa Butt Tiny Scooter Insert

🎲🎲🎲 : Gambling Horror Box Death Bets

🍯🥄🫘 : Thumbs Beans Jack Thump Spoon

⛓️🗑️🪚: Chainsaw Office Desk Profiles

🤌🏼💶🐐 : Micro Bill Escape Key Goat

🤡🃏🪪: Retard ID 🆔 Cards

🎟️🎪🎟️ : TwERL Crazy Cricket 🦗 Sir Cuss

🛖🥾🍕: Genocide Hospitals Factory Fronts

🤐🪩🦭: Sea Lie Seal Rubber Shoes Zip Mitts

📼🎄🧵 : Death Wrap Christmass Organs

⛸️🏄🏽‍♀️🛹: “skat pans, boards splitting FRAYS”

☠️🐟🪣: Blue Poison Chum Desk Buckets

🔵😰🥞: “blue bed pans down syndrums.”

🥷🏼🥷🏼🥷🏼: Keep Ninjas, Nanny, Manny, Nano

🐜🐜🐜 : ANT…. ENT…. HIVE VS HIVE

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💚🧡❤️ : Green Teal Orange Red Ruby

🍀🌹🎒: Brave, Bravo, Honors, Survivors

🔭🏐🎒: Telescope, Sports, Studies.

👑🐸🪙: Frog Pockets

👑🚀🪙: Space Rockets

🇮🇪🇮🇹🇫🇷: Ireland Italy France

🧡🤎🖤 : Orange Tan Brown Black

🙏🏽💧🌊 : Welsh

🙏🏽🍀 ☘️: Irish

🙏🏽🌳🌿 : Celtic

🙏🏽🧞‍♀️🧬 : Genetics Healthy Gins and Gingers

🍓🍒🍉 : Healthy Reds Fruits Vitality Life

🌈🦜🗣️ : Parrot JA MIC Speak Up Healthy

🪞🛡️🪞 : Mirror, To Each Their Own

🥝🔑🥝 : Healthy Kiwis, Key Wi, Key We

🌶️🥭🥭 : Spicy Mangos, Healthy Vitality

🍫🚎🚂 : Chocolate Bus, Public Supports

🍻🍺🍹 : IRISH PUB, Public Wealths

🍃🪢🍷 : Twine Red Wine Vineyards

📞🍇📞 : Grape Vine Life+ 411 Lines

🪀🧘🏼‍♀️🪃 : Karma Health

⚡️🗳️🪁: Eletric Key 🔑 Kite Vallet Box Vote

📞🥌☎️ : Shuffle Sand Telephone System

📞🐍🚰 : Sink Sand Ink Sir Pens

🏹🥋🎱 : JU DOW PSY ANTS

🎻🎻🎻 : Violins and Irish Harps

🖼️🕷️🎹 : Healthy Life Recorders

🧨🖤🐈‍⬛ : KKK Black Jackkk Kat

💋💄🧐 : Bio Lense Cyborg Eyes 👀 Health

🌪️👃🏽🌪️ : Two Tiny Wind Tornado Nasal Pass

🎀🍆🍬 : “mini peninsulas.”

👉🏼👈🏼

👉🏼💥🪙

👉🏼🌎👈🏼

🤘🏽🐰✌🏼

🧍🏼🧾🪡: Puppet Tree

🦨🍄🌈: Bunk Base Buddy’s

🍹 🥃: Warm Rum War Thumbs

🛡️🎧🛡️: DJ ARMOR HEADPHONES

⛲️⛽️🌋🚁🛞🛟🕋📡

Brandons Health Upkeeps

Public News: 📰🏳️‍🌈🇮🇱🐰🐸

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A brief environmental scan.

Environmental; Tacoma Washington

Seattle Washington

Bad News: 🤑🐁🦠🐹🦠🐓🦠

🦭🦭🦭🦁💈👨🏻‍🦳🪱🍪🫒🎀🍕🤐🤐🤐🤡🎪🏥😵🪰🪳🪳🪳🐻‍❄️🐼🐻‍❄️🐼🐭❄️🎿🦉🦠🧺🗑️⛵️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🐮🦆🦂🦐🦈🐬🐳🐋🐃🐂🦬🐑🐏🐿️🐚🪸🥔🍗🥒🍆🍎🍋🍅🍳🥩🍔🍟🍩🎂🍿🥧🎂🌽🫖🥛🥤🎳⛸️🛹⛳️🏄🏽‍♂️🪂🎸🎬🎤🎯🎫🎲🛞🧛🏼‍♂️🧟🫐🥞🧈🌭🪵

#gay #lgbtq #trans #hispanic #spanish #italian #italy #allah

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