#the creature's cookbook
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Regular - Simon Alkenmayer x AFAB!Reader (NSFW)
Rating: Explicit
Relationship: Reader x Simon Alkenmayer
Tags: Cunnilingus, Human/Monster Romance, But Simon is pretty humanoid-like so idk, Reader doesn't know Simon is a cryptid, Cryptozoology, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Friends to Lovers
Summary:
You sigh and stand on your tip toes trying to reach the box, you feel your fingertips brush against the cardboard material and you smile in victory. But you accidentally push it even further . Before you can even groan in annoyance you feel the looming figure of Simon step closer towering over you from behind.
“This one?” He asks, his voice sultry and low as he reaches for the box with ease. His body feels like marble against yours, hard and cold. You can’t help but wonder how he manages to stay cool in the summer, especially with all the dark clothing he wears. Hell, his skin looked like marble, his hand grabbing the rim of the box barely showed any red undertones. You can't help but admire the way his fingers stretch out, you can feel your heart beating faster as you watch his digits, long and slender, as he wraps them around the edge of the box. His grip is firm and sure, and you couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to have those fingers wrapped around your throa- “Y/N?”
Shit.
or
It's summer 1993, you work at an antique's shop and your favorite costumer, Simon Alkermayer, happens to stop by.
It's summer 1993. You're taking care of your antiques shop, but it's a slow day and you allow yourself to pop on your earbuds and turn on your walkman as you dust off some items.
You look at the fan gently turning from left to right, ventilating the store just enough so you don’t die from heat exhaustion. You hum to the tune of the song, the melody distracting your mind from your boredom. Your cat, Spock, is resting peacefully on top of a nearby shelf. You hear the soft jingle of the bells on the door, announcing the presence of a customer.
“Good evening, welcome t-” You start saying but stop yourself when you turn to see who it is.
“Oh! Hey Simon! It’s good to see you.”
The pale man gives you a slight smile and nods. “Hello, Y/N.”
Simon is something else entirely. He’s a regular, if there even is such a thing in an antique shop. You know most of the locals, it is a small town after all, but Simon isn’t really a local. You asked him before and he mentioned living pretty much in the middle of nowhere, your town is just the closest. He said he was a writer, so you assumed living in the middle of the woods was about getting inspiration or something.
You take off your earbuds, heading to the counter to look professional now that someone’s here. Especially when that someone is the mysterious, lanky, surprisingly charming guy you’ve been crushing over in the past few months.
“We’ve had some pretty sweet arrivals since the last time you were here!” You say excitedly, but are interrupted by your cat hissing at the man. “Spock! Behave, please, shoosh.” You shoosh the cat away and he promptly hides behind a random piece of furniture, still watching Simon from afar. “I’m so sorry, I really don’t get why he acts like this around you. Sometimes I think he’s just trying to embarrass me on purpose.” You sigh.
“No need to fret, I understand he’s just…” Simon crosses his arms side-eying the pet with a smirk “a tad territorial.”
“Anyways, new old stuff!” You point to a section you rearranged this morning. “Ah, the chinas! I found some cute tea sets from another antique shop that’s closing, they’re shop window worthy, I'm telling you. Ugh, I still need to get them in the back.” You keep talking without realizing, since Simon never interrupts you.
“Do you need assistance?”
You can’t help but smile, Simon is nothing short of a gentleman. You can see he has a very old soul, you see it in most people who come to your store, but in Simon it feels ten times stronger. It's interesting to watch, he will gaze at decades old items and look almost nostalgic in a way. Maybe he's really into history, you can relate in a way, you too project yourself onto your collection.
"You wouldn't mind? I don't want to take advantage of your kindness."
"It's no trouble at all, Y/N"
You're really excited to put those little teacups on display, Simon probably has no interest in them, they definitely don't fit his whole… aesthetic. But it's nice of him to help you with the boxes.
You keep talking about the stuff you got from the store that closed down, the man silently accompanying you and nodding along. He's a pretty good listener, always patient and you couldn't help but feel attracted to him.
"Sorry, when I start talking I really can't shut up.” You blush slightly in embarrassment, opening the door adorned with the sign ‘Employees only’.
“Please, I don’t mind it at all.” There’s reassurance in his voice and his words confort your anxieties enough as you enter the storage room and turn on the single flickering light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
“Now, where is that box…” You squint your eyes around the dimly lit room, checking the shelves stocking the articles you’ve yet to display in the store. “Ah there it is!” You smile but your happiness is short lived as you realize where the box was shelved. “The highest shelf in the storage room, of course that asshole put it there. He knows I can’t reach… ugh… sorry.” You sigh, apologizing for your unprofessionalism.
“Your coworker, I assume?” He makes an educated guess, he’s stumbled upon Jack before while visiting the shop. The guy is a manchild, he doesn’t care at all about the antique shop or the customers, he only got the job because he’s your boss’ nephew. You wouldn’t mind him too much if he wasn’t so inconsiderate, he always left things for you to clean up after his shift and never let you know if he was going to be late or couldn’t come. Jack had also made several advances on you before, not particularly tasteful comments about your appearance, and passive aggressive remarks when you turned him down. He also had very clear opinions on your mysterious regular, whenever he saw Simon leaving the shop he couldn’t wait to call the man a “freak” and a “weirdo”.
“Yeah. Ex-coworker, hopefully. He hasn’t been showing up to work lately, not answering calls from our boss either. He probably bailed and can’t be bothered to let any of us know.” You huff in annoyance and for a second you could swear you saw Simon smirk. You sigh and stand on your tip toes trying to reach the box, you feel your fingertips brush against the cardboard material and you smile in victory. But you accidentally push it even further . Before you can even groan in annoyance you feel the looming figure of Simon step closer towering over you from behind.
“This one?” He asks, his voice sultry and low as he reaches for the box with ease. His body feels like marble against yours, hard and cold. You can’t help but wonder how he manages to stay cool in the summer, especially with all the dark clothing he wears. Hell, his skin looked like marble, his hand grabbing the rim of the box barely showed any red undertones. You can't help but admire the way his fingers stretch out, you can feel your heart beating faster as you watch his digits, long and slender, as he wraps them around the edge of the box. His grip is firm and sure, and you can't help but imagine what it would feel like to have those fingers wrapped around your throa- “Y/N?”
Shit.
“Ah… S-Sorry I’m kinda out of it today, I had to cover the shifts Jack missed this week and I guess I’m just tired,” you came up with an excuse for your distraction, it wasn’t a bad one since it was very true.
“Oh, I see,” bless his heart he seemed legitimately concerned and.. you could sense guilt in his voice. He shouldn’t feel guilty, it was Jack’s fault, not his. “You should not have to overwork yourself…”
“It’s fine… really,” you shrug.
“It isn’t,” Simon’s voice turns dark as he turns you around by the shoulders and pins you against the wall of the storage room. You couldn’t even register his movements with how fast it happened. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel the hard surface of the wall pressing against your back, and the sudden weight of his body against yours. You don’t know what’s gotten into him, his eyes are dark and his gaze is intense. “I have… overlooked the stress my actions would put you under.”
“Your actions? Simon… I don’t understand-”
“You need not understand,” he interrupts you. He's not angry, he’s frustrated but not with you. “I will help you. Allow me to undo the damage,” his hand travels the curve of your jaw caressing your skin “Unless…I have misread the nature of our dynamic. If so, please, do not hesitate to speak up and tell me no.”
“I… You…” You can feel your face warm up at his words “N-no, you haven’t.” You admit, your words bring a smirk to his lips.
“Excellent,” Simon closes the distance between you, his lips are on yours before you have time to react. His mouth was demanding and soon his tongue was in your mouth, the kiss leaving you breathless as you felt arousal building inside you, an aching feeling between your legs.
—
“S-Simon… Fuck…” You were gasping his name in between moans, your hand ran through his jet black hair, your grip shaky. Simon was set on making you reach orgasm a third time, one for each shift you’d had to cover. The first was on his fingers and the second was on his mouth, you felt sensitive as the man’s tongue circled your clit. You whined at his assault and he chuckled, you felt his hot breath on your entrance and he used his thumb to caress your pussy, looking up at your flushed face.
“Such exquisite flavor… Had I only known sooner that you were this truly delectable, I would have made you mine long ago," his voice was dark and while his words sent shivers down your spine, you dearly missed his mouth on you. Your sentiment didn’t go unnoticed, he smirked at you as he watched you twitch with anticipation when his fingers teased your cunt.
“Please…” You decided a while ago you weren't too proud to beg, especially not when his mouth felt so good, and his tongue was so warm and skilled. It seemed Simon decided to have mercy on you, his mouth going back on your pussy.
His tongue probed into you while he drew lazy circles on your clit, you moaned softly from his ministrations, back pressed against the wall. You felt like you were hallucinating, for a second you could swear Simon’s tongue was reaching places far deeper than a human’s tongue could go, but the pleasure fogging your mind had no interest in lingering on that question, the sensation overwhelming your senses.
Two of his pale slender fingers entered you before he moved his mouth over to your clit. While one hand fingered you, the other pulled the skin over the tiny bud exposing it further to his insatiable lips. He was unrelenting now, his mouth sucking and playing with your clit and his fingers fucking you mercilessly.
You couldn’t keep his name out of your mouth as he devoured your cunt like a man starved. His fingers curled inside of you as he noticed you getting closer and closer to the edge, you could feel him smile against your flesh, his pace going faster as you repeated yourself over and over.
“Simon… Please… oh God… Fuck…” You cried out, before a final thrust of his fingers timed with the sweet sensation of him sucking on your clit made you tip over the edge. “Fuck!”
You threw your head back, the feeling overwhelming your senses and making you see stars. You felt Simon lap up your juices as you rode out the waves of your orgasm on his mouth.
“Uh… Whatever it is you did, you’re forgiven,” you joked nervously. Still really confused about this turn of events, but not about to complain.
Your words were promptly rewarded by a satisfied smirk from the man as he got up. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear watching you catch your breath, oversensitive from his touch.
You looked good enough to eat. But what a waste it would be.
"The pleasure was entirely mine," he assured you.
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so far I’m enjoying my supernatural adventure calendar pretty well - it’s a 20 dollar calendar so I didn’t expect much, but i’ve gotten a pin, some paper ornaments, recipe cards from the spn cookbook, laptop camera cover stickers, pretty good if low effort stuff - and the treats are getting more elaborate the closer to christmas and i love that today’s gift was a keychain but this is the least cas-looking castiel ive EVER seen ajdkdkdkslsk
he is. so angy.
#this is peak spn! trying to capitalize on cas but fundamentally misunderstanding what makes ppl love him#lil wings are so cute tho#btw I do have the spn cookbook as well and aside from a recipe using the w-creature in its name which is shitty#the other recipes are really really good#I’ve made the tomato soup like 3 times#mythtakes
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behold the cronchy friends:
if anyone would've told me that my anxiety and panic to fail university would be spiced up with _these lads_.. sounds like me, sure. :D
stay tuned for more tasty lads in the next days!
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What will Jonathan be doing now that Drac is dead?
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Hello, I'm looking for some angst.
I would like to order an extra harsh reality of
"The brothers will pick their sister over Mc if given a chance"
And some side dish of "The undertables having to fight for Mc"
Thanksiiee!!
hi!! Sorry I took so long to get to this but I was so looking forward to writing this when I got it! slight mentions at nsfw but nothing is described or really directly talked about. also spoilers for lesson 16 and also also long!! much longer than I anticipated
everything I write turns into Satan pieces somehow lol
Took inspo from Harry Potter, specifically Tom Riddle’s diary in the Chamber of Secrets (don't @ me used to be a huge hp fan)
update: part two is out and can be found here :)
the dance of the haunted (part one)
It all started with a simple trip to the second hand bookstore. Satan always invited Mc, so they were together. He needed a hand carrying back his purchases sometimes and they always went someone to eat afterwards, Satan’s treat as he could never imagine asking Mc to pay.
They bookstore they visited today was a usual for them. It was close enough to walk, but far enough to avoid running into his brothers. Satan knew Mc really enjoyed old cookbooks and worn fantasy books. They also often searched for children’s books to read to local demon children as part of a school club. While he was initially concerned with them coming into contact with a cursed book, he grew more comfortable after seeing their magical ability and that they always carried an enchanted talisman that Solomon gifted them for that purpose.
Mc was over in the nature section, flipping through a book about creatures in the 3rd ring of hell. Satan found himself in the tomes section again. He, as usual, found himself rooting through the very back trying to uncover hidden gems. He was about to pick up a book he thought Mc might like to flip through it, when he froze. Just a sliver of this book was in his vision, but he already felt the magic oozing from it. It's a wonder he didn't sense it sooner. He put the other book in a hurry and pulled out the book from the back.
It was unlabeled, with a faded green cover and a golden ribbon attached to the spine. It marked a page close to the beginning. The magic radiating from it didn't seem bad in any way. It actually seemed quite positive. He was able to place it quickly after he felt the ribbon sticking out the bottom of the book.
This was most certainly a book infused with an angelic blessing at the very least, but how in the world had this ended up in a second hand book store in the Devildom, of all places. He flipped it over, looking for anything to go off of, but found nothing but a cursive golden letter L etched on the bottom right corner. He was a little afraid to open it, giving that it was in the hands of an angel at some point. After thinking it over, if anything happened to him, Mc would help him as soon as they noticed something amiss. Thanks to the pact, it would be almost instantly.
With the thought of Mc, he slowly opened the book. On the first page and on the inside of the front cover was handwriting that seemed oddly familiar. He struggled to read the words on the page at first due to the sense of familiarity. He suddenly got deja vu, as if he had held this book before. He closed his eyes for a moment to stop the world from spinning. When he reopened them, he felt like crying, and yet, he still wasn't sure why. Once he finally read what was written, he understood why.
On the inside cover, it read "Property of Lilith Morningstar" and near the bottom in large writing was a messy scrawl he recognized as Mammon's handwriting. It said "mammon waz here" with a little drawing of himself sticking his tongue out. A heart in a different color of ink enclosed the message and drawing. On the first page was a note seemingly from Lucifer. Satan would recognize his handwriting anywhere. It was a heartfelt message from Lucifer to Lilith, saying that he hoped the gift reached her well, and that he missed and loved her.
He closed the book for a second and suddenly felt faint. He sat on the floor, holding his head in his hands. He thought about what he had just read for a moment. The book that he had somehow found, maybe by chance or fate, belonged to his brother's late sister. It was a gift from Lucifer to Lilith while he was away. He realized that's probably why he felt his emotions raging. The Lucifer in him recognized the book, since he had seemingly picked it out himself to give to his sister. How had this ended up in a second hand bookstore? He theorized maybe it had been made in the Devildom and Lucifer had purchased it during one of his trips. But, angel Lucifer would have never done that. He was disgusted by the mere thought of even having to go down at the time, so the thought of him browsing shops was out of the question. Deciding to come back to that thought later, he decided to quickly flip through it, just to see what it was.
As he reopened the book, new waves of magic hit him. He didn't recognize them, but they felt as familiar as his brothers. He guessed their magic was also somehow within this book. But since it was all angelic magic, everything having to do with this book happened before the fall, before he even existed. Much to his dismay, everything beyond the first page was blank. He closed and opened it a few times, but nothing happened. He guessed it might be locked by magic in some way. The thought of trying to magically pry it open scared him again. He was a demon through and through, and since this was blessed by angels, he had no clue what might happen to him if he tried. He was certain whoever blessed this book did not accommodate for whatever he was, but he thought it to be unwise to test the limits.
"Satan. What are you doing on the floor?" Mc walked up to him, holding a few books in their arms.
"Oh, just looking at book on the bottom shelf. I got tired of crouching." He quickly placed the green book down on top of a stack of his other books.
"I get that. Just wanted to let you know I'm ready to be done when you are. Don't rush for me." They turned to walk away, but Satan stopped them.
"I'm done too. I was finishing up." He moved to get up. Mc turned back around to look at him.
"I made great timing then! Here, I'll carry some of these for you." They grabbed the first few books off his stack. He felt his stomach lurch when they touched the green book. He couldn't help but feel nervous with them handling the book, although he wasn't sure why. He didn't want to say anything about it to them, and again, he didn't know why. For now, maybe it was best he kept this to himself anyways. Mc’s expression didn't change and they continued to pile on the books until the green one was in the middle. There was nothing special about that book to them.
"Thank you." Satan made himself say. He picked up the remaining books and they proceeded to the check out together. Today, an older demon worked the register. She was familiar with the pair and had a soft spot for Mc.
"Is that everything for today?" She asked them as she counted the books. Between the two of them, they had thirteen books. Satan handed the demon the needed amount of grim, and waved them on their way. Satan insisted on carrying the bag of books home, since this time there wasn’t too many.
"Let's stop at a café on our way home. I'm dying for something warm to drink right now." Mc grabbed Satan's hand and pulled him in the direction they wanted to go in. He smiled and allowed himself to be dragged off. While they were enjoying coffee together, he was able to temporally forget about the book he had discovered. All of his thoughts were about Mc for the time being.
When they arrived home together, Mc loudly announced that they were there. Mammon came running to greet them. "Mc! I got somethin' for ya! Ya gotta come with me right now!" He grabbed both of the hands and began to pull them away.
"Thank you for the coffee and books, Satan. Tell me about what you bought at dinner tonight." They looked back at him before looking at Mammon again.
"I will. I'll drop off your books in your room. I had a great time." He lifted a hand at them, as a goodbye.
"Mc!" Mammon began to whine.
"Yes, yes. Let's go now." Mammon took off with Mc in tow, leaving Satan stewing in his thoughts again. He went back to his room with all of the books. The other books he had picked out were no longer interesting compared to the Lilith book. However, he didn't want to mess with it while his brothers were awake. The last thing he wanted was them finding out. While he felt bad keeping it from them, something in him was telling him not to show it to them yet. He had promised Mc he would tell them about the books he picked out. The only one he wanted to read was the one about cats. He could easily talk about it to Mc anyways, without having to worry about the Lilith book crossing his mind.
He read until it was time for dinner. Today, it was Asmo’s turn to cook. He was actually a pretty good cook, probably the best in the house. It always turned out well and was plated gorgeous on top of that. He came to the dinner table with the book he hand been reading, still reading. He took his seat across from Mc, not looking up just yet.
“Hey, is that one of the new books?” Satan looked over his book and saw Mc peering at him.
“Yes, actually. It’s a cat book! Cats are the best.” He happily pointed to the picture of a cat on the front. As they ate, the conversation began to drift away from books, and onto something that Satan thought was irrelevant. He tried to go back to reading, but found himself reading the same lines over and over again. His thoughts had reverted to the little green book sitting in a pile of books on his bed. He has buried it, just in case someone happened to walk in.
As Mc mediated yet another argument between Levi and Mammon, he couldn’t find it in himself to silently seethe and glare at his brothers as he usually did. He blankly stared at his book, picking at his food. He was stuck wondering why the book didn’t say anything. He planned what he would do once he got back to his room. He knew he had a book of protective spells somewhere in the house that he might use to protect himself before attempting to interact with the book more.
“Satan. Is everything alright?” Lucifer placed a hand on his shoulder, catching him off guard. The table was basically empty now, much to his surprise. It was only Beel, Belphie and himself still seated. Beel was still eating and Belphie was passed out next to him.
“Nothing is wrong.” Satan snapped back after a moment.
“Alright. Please don’t forget do the dishes.” Lucifer retraced his hand, and with one final, unreadable look at Satan, left the room. He was unsure about how to feel about Lucifer noticing something was amiss. He snapped his book shut. He wasn’t really reading it in the first place. He put the book down on the kitchen counter and began absentmindedly doing the dishes. He was lost in though about the book currently buried underneath about twenty other books on his bed.
He finished in record time. He grabbed his cat book, figuring Beel could wash his own dish once he was done. He retreated to his room. He was released to find everything just as he left it. He dug up the green book from his pile, placing all the other books on the floor for the time being. He sat at his desk, running his hands over the cover. Under his little desk lamp, it seemed to sparkle in a way that he hasn’t previously noticed. Once he opened it, he was greeted with what he has seen earlier that day. But, to his surprise, there was more beyond that.
Most of the pages in the front of the book curled from usage. At the top of each page, was a note of the date. Below this, was a diary entry of sorts. Sometimes, it was just a to-do list, or a recipe. Others, he found Lilith’s accounts of her day to day life. He decided to start at the beginning, reading the first ever entry. He hoped to gain a little context of what exactly this journal was and how it worked.
Lilith had written on the first page after the note from Lucifer about how he has sent her this journal while on a trip to the Devildom, stating it was made by a human according to the tag on the outside of the journal. He enchanted it himself to only allow her to see the contents of this journal.
Satan paused his reading for a moment. If it has been enchanted to only allow Lilith to read the journal, how was he able to read it just now? He wasn’t close to her. They never knew each other. As he flipped to the next page to hopefully skim it for context of any kind, the words in front of him began to fade. The ink retracted into the page, from the last letter she had written, to the first. He wasn’t sure what he could do to prevent this, so he just quickly read what he could. The next page was something about how Belphie had wanted to take a look at it and something about Beel. Once he got there, the words has begun to erase themselves. He watched helplessly as everything disappeared. Soon, he was just stuck with the plain book he had discovered that afternoon, and the cover no longer shimmered.
He sighed, flipping through it again. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He was about to check out the back cover again when he heard his door being pushed open.
“Satan! Thought I would find you here.” Mc greeted him.
“It’s my room. What did you expect?” He shut the book in a hurry.
“Well, I can just as often find you in the library.” They approached him, touching his face. They outlined his jaw and smoothed his cheeks with their thumbs. He reached for their wrists, touching them with an imploring look.
“What’s the matter?” He petted their hair. They sat down in his lap and placed their head on his shoulder. He couldn’t help but worry that the journal was right in their view now, but he hugged them close nonetheless.
“I just feel lonely.” They sighed and buried their face in his neck.
“Really? After all that time you spent with Mammon?” He laughed a little at their predicament.
“Don’t laugh! It’s not the same as when I’m with you.” They pouted and puffed their cheeks out. He chuckled a little more at the cute face they made at him.
“Alright, alright. I’ll stop. What can I do for you, my beloved?” He could get lost in their eyes.
“Give me affection! Just kisses will do.” They pointed to their forehead. Satan smiled at them, amused.
“As you wish.” He began to pepper their face in kisses. As Mc grew more needy, the more he satisfied them. One thing led to another, as they ended up in Satan’s bed. They stayed together for the rest of the night, the journal long forgotten.
Early the next morning, after their night of passion, Satan awoke abruptly. He looked around. He was in his own room, but his clothes were scattered around the room. A shirt was hanging by a thread off a tall pile of books. Mc was asleep next to him, their arms wrapped around him. His lamp light was still on. He reached over as far as he could to reach the off switch. Before he could hit it, he saw the journal. He glanced back at Mc. He didn’t want to wake them, but he felt the urge to open it. He reached out to touch it, and as soon as he did, he noticed it began to shimmer like it had before. He was amazed. He quickly flipped as best as he could to a random page with one hand. He could see lots of writing. He shut it again, taking his hands off of it. It remained shimmery.
He decided not to flip through it now, since he wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind to at the moment. Instead, he noted the time; 4:03 am. Once he woke up, he would check it again to get a rough idea of how long it would stay open for since earlier, he wasn’t sure how long it had been open for. He finally shut the lamp off and let the book flutter closed. He took his mind off the book, and laid back down. He tucked an arm around Mc as best he could without waking them, and drifted back to sleep.
He awoke for the second time that day. Everything was essentially the same as it was earlier except for the time and the noise outside his door. Mc was still asleep next to him, griping him tightly. It was 8:24 am now, and he could hear Lucifer pacing around past his door in the hall. He didn't make any noise. The last thing he wanted was to see his ugly mug first thing in the morning. Because of this, he decided not to leave him room just yet, but he also didn't want to open the journal either. He would, however, check if it was still "open" or readable. He flickered on his little desk lamp again, and was greeted with the shimmery cover. He didn't want to touch it, because he was almost certain he was able to set it off that morning. Once he was able to think clearer, he would revisit that.
Instead, he grabbed the first book he could get his hands on and began to read. He wasn't sure how long he was there, just reading, but eventually he felt Mc begin to stir. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” Satan greeted the bleary eyed person snuggled into his side.
“Good morning love. How long was I asleep?” They yawned, making no move to sit up. Neither of them were dressed at the moment anyways.
“A decent amount. Longer than I did anyways.” He shrugged, placing the book facedown on his desk, over the journal.
“Thanks for not waking me. You wouldn’t guess how many times Mammon or Asmo have woken me up way too early. Granted, it’s usually on accident. Asmo with his skincare and Mammon with… I don’t actually know.” Mc rolled on to their side to look at Satan better, throwing one of their arms over his torso. He felt himself growing shy under their sleepy gaze. He knew he wasn't the only one graced with that privilege, but the way they looked at him made him feel so special. He would give them every star in the sky if they asked.
“That makes me all the more grateful that they don’t dare enter my room. Makes it quite the sanctuary, don’t you think?” Satan chuckled.
“Mmm, yes.” They yawned again.
“What do you want to eat for breakfast, sweetheart? Or is it too soon to think about that?” He asked.
“Give me a few more minutes and then I’ll find an answer for you.” Mc closed their eyes again, potentially going back to sleep. He used that time to reflect. His thoughts grew a little grim as he let them wander. That journal kept finding it's way into his mind. How had he been able to find that? What were the chances of that happening? Maybe it would have made a little more sense if one of his brothers had found the book instead, since part of them seemed to linger between the lines. He was a different story, though. The magic within must had been much more powerful than he anticipated.
Even as he turned his head to the side to look at the book again, he saw the pages glimmer in the light that didn't exist. Something seemed... wrong. He hadn't noticed it before, maybe due to the excitement of simply finding it. The circumstances of which he found it in too was bizarre. As a powerful demon, he should have noticed the angelic energy as soon as he entered the book store. He dwelled on this idea. Perhaps last night's activities had had an affect on it. He coughed a little, covering up his embarrassment from the invisible audience. As he thought more, it really made no sense that he just happened to find it. Had it been planted there for him specifically, or was it the journal itself? Just what did this book know? He did consider himself exceptional, but not nearly as much as his brothers. Their story was far more interesting than his own. He was just the consequence of their actions. Whatever the case with this book, he felt the urge to get to the bottom of it, despite the creeping dread in his gut.
He spent the next few days of his reading time picking though every page of the journal. He was able to learn so much about his brothers' days in the Celestial Realm, far more than they had ever bothered to tell him. Perhaps they thought speaking about it might bother him. Whatever the case, he found it strange to refer to them as angels. Lilith wrote lots about the twins and Asmo. She wrote less about the older brothers but it was clear they were just as important to her. He had know Asmo was the Jewel of the Heavens, but the way Lilith described him made him sound like the most amazing thing the world had ever seen. The more and more he read, the more he saw the similarities between himself and her. He too considered Asmo a trusted confidant, and a close friend of his. He too found himself sneaking off with Belphie for mischievous reasons, or spending time with Beel for his quiet, comforting presence. He began to realize how difficult losing her might have been for them. In the past, he knew it was a sore subject, especially among the youngest, but now he could really feel their pain as Lilith wrote about their daily misadventures. What they missed. Would they exchange him for her if given the chance? He shook this thought off, not liking the implications it might have.
Her innocence was painted clearly for him on each page, yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He checked the book again and again for traces of demonic magic but found nothing. The strangest part was that he couldn't even find his own. There was traces of various angels, most of which he didn't recognize, likely from the far gone past. The journal continued to puzzle him.
As time passed, the entries grew more and more chaotic. From her new lover, to the growing tensions between Lucifer and their father. They grew shorter and less carefree. Even her handwriting differed. She seemed to understand the gravity of what she had done. He knew this is when the Celestial War was about to begin. Her last entry was about her lover, again about how enchanting she found them, and how one day she hoped to spend the rest of her life with him, no matter what. He paused for a moment, realizing this entry was written likely days, or even hours before he was born. After that entry, the pages were blank. There were some pages with stray pen marks, but that's all he was able to uncover. He knew the ending to this story. The silence told it all. He sat for a while, reflecting again about everything he had seen. As he was thinking, words began to appear on the page in front of him, in the same handwriting and ink color as he had seen in the entire journal. It was Lilith's. Satan paused. He could tell the journal held magical properties, but this was not something he expected to happen.
"Hello? Anyone there?" The words appeared suddenly. He continued staring at the page until more words appeared. "You can say something you know. Ink will do." Satan began to look around for a writing utensil at these words. Once he found one, he began to pen a response.
"Hello. Are you Lilith?" He wrote down underneath the previous words. He got his own response quickly.
"Yes, I am! How'd you know that?" Satan paused again, about to write more, but was cut off as Lilith began to write more. "Haha! Just kidding. This is my journal. My name is in it. It would be weird if this wasn't me. Who are you, by the way? I don't think I've ever had a visitor." Right away, Satan thought Lilith reminded him of Asmo. He was probably like this when he was an angel.
He stopped before bringing his pen down to the page again. He was unsure on how to introduce himself. During his visit to the past, he went by Sully, which was the stupidest name in his opinion. But, he also didn't want to lie to her. Would it be wrong to tell her his story, and what happened after the war? "My name is Satan. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too! That's a pretty cool name. Interesting for sure." She wrote.
"I don't want to scare you away, but I want to make this clear as to not deceive you." He wanted to tell her the truth. He felt like she deserved to know. After all, he had always felt like she was supposed to be in his place. She even wrote in green.
"Oh, tell away then. I'm all ears. I won't judge, unless you're about to confess some sort of sin to me!" She wrote, most likely jokingly. That made him a little nervous at first, but he continued with the original plan anyways. Maybe this was his way of healing, somehow. He felt better after getting everything out. He told her almost everything. He omitted the part where Belphie murdered Mc. He didn't want to be the one to tell her, anyways. It felt wrong to tell her that her death had driven him to such an extreme. She stayed mostly silent, chiming in with a few questions and stray blots of ink on the pages near his writing, as if she was resting her pen on the page.
"I hope that wasn't too much to take in at once. Much has happened." Satan was still a nervous. He really hoped she wouldn't hate him. He was just the messenger. After all, without her, he wouldn't even exist.
"I won't lie, it was overwhelming at first. But, I'm happy to hear my brothers are doing well without me. It's comforting to know that they have you and Mc now." Lilith drew a little heart next to her message.
"Glad to hear. Sorry to leave so abruptly, but I agreed to meet Mc for an outing shortly, so I will see myself out." He wasn't lying. He had agreed to meet Mc, but it wasn't for another two hour.
"Alright. Have fun! Talk to you later." With that, everything she had said sunk into the page and left no trace behind.
"Goodbye." His words also disappeared. Just like that, their entire conversation was gone. He shut the book. He was glad she didn't object. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to leave early. He felt a little bad leaving her to stew in the information dump, if she actually existed beyond the book being open. Everything about the book confused him. Looking back at it, maybe he made a rash decision. Maybe he shouldn't have info dumped to her like that.
He decided to forget that for now to enjoy his time with Mc. They had an event to attend, and he had to get ready anyways. Later that night, he came back to the journal in order to study it. He opted not to talk to Lilith just yet. The sick feeling in his stomach had returned. Something was wrong with this journal, very wrong. It made no sense, even after chatting to her. She seemed sweet enough, but that wasn't enough to dispel that gross, nauseating feeling. He just couldn't place his finger on what. He felt as if he was losing his mind checking over and over again, for something, anything. But, he found absolutely nothing.
Eventually he got to the point where he was determining if he should burn it or not. He regretted even talking to her in the first place. He wasn't sure why, but he grew uneasy even having Mc in the same house as the journal. Somehow, it felt as if he was talking to someone else, as in not the Lilith who made the original entries. He placed the journal back on his desk, underneath his latest book finds, leaving to find Mc. He eventually found them by the door, putting their shoes on.
"Hey Satan. Good to see you!" They looked up at him.
"Hi, Mc. Where are you going?" He was relieved they were leaving the house.
"Purgatory Hall. I was invited over to play some games. Sol's idea." They began searching for their jacket. Satan noticed it hidden behind Lucifer's big overcoat. He grabbed it, and helped them put it on, thinking hard. "Aww thank you. You didn't have to do that." They beamed at him.
"I wanted to, it's no trouble." He paused for a moment, then continued. "Hey, do you think it's possible that I could come with you. I don't even have to play these games if that's an issue, I just want to be with you." He would feel even better if he was able to be with them, and get away from that journal for a while.
"Oh, of course! I'm sure they would love to have you. Besides, I've basically always got one of you brothers attached to me, they might find it weird if I showed up without one." Mc laughed. "I thought you were planning to read tonight, since I've been taking up almost all of your nights for the past week. Did something happen?" They seemed concerned, looking into his eyes.
"Thank you. Really, I can put off reading again. All time spent with you is precious. It's hard to be away from you, you should know. You're simply enchanting." He took their hand and spun them into his arms.
"Alright, if you say so! We should get going if we want to be on time. I can let them know if you need a little time to get ready?" Mc giggled, buying his excuse. They might have seen though him, but was glad they chose not to say anything.
"I just need my shoes and coat as well. I wouldn't want to hold you up, anyways." He only let Mc go in favor of getting ready. "You know, I'm honestly surprised you aren't already bringing Mammon or Asmo." He told them.
"Me too, actually. Asmo was busy, and Mammon was too distracted with his car repairs to pay attention to what I was saying earlier. I was almost held back by Belphie too. But, I'm here now and I get to spend this time with you." They stood beside him as he tied his shoes and shrugged on his jacket. As the two of them made their way to Purgatory Hall, Mc held his hand so tightly and gazed at him so tenderly, he was almost convinced they were the only thing in the world.
When they arrived, they had plenty of fun. Solomon had arranged a collection of games to play as a group that were randomly decided by drawing slips of paper. To nobody's surprise, Solomon and Mc ended up winning most of them because they were human games. Satan forgot all about the journal. That is, until, he received a phone call in the middle of one of their games. Mc was draped over him with their arms around his neck, also curious about who might be calling them at a time like this. It was Lucifer.
"I told them we were heading out. What could he need?" Mc reached for the phone but Satan stopped them.
"If the call is for me, it's probably to yell at me or something. I don't want you to be on the receiving end of that." Satan rolled his eyes, and brought the phone to his ear, planning to brush off anything he said. He was really only answering because Simeon was in the room, who would answer it for him.
"Come home. Now. You have explaining to do." Lucifer growled through the phone. At first, Satan wasn't worried. He got ominous calls from his older brother like this all the time.
"What is it?" He sighed. Mc laughed a little, causing him to smile. The others began to chat among themselves while he was on the phone. This was normal.
"You know exactly what this is about. On your desk in your room. Underneath three books. Your keys on the left. The pen you used on the right." Satan froze. The smile left his face. Lucifer always sounded serious, but this was one of the few times he sounded like he was about to rip his throat out. He had found the journal. Mc didn't hear what he said, somehow, but noticed his change in demeanor.
"What's the matter, 'Tan?" Mc brushed some hair off his forehead.
"Nothing, my love. Don't worry about it. It's the usual nonsense." He moved the phone away from his ear for the moment, and then back once he was done speaking.
"Let me speak to Mc. I want them home too. Now." The tone Lucifer used to dangerous. Satan knew that was unwise. He didn't know what his plan was, but he didn't trust him at all.
"No. I will come home, but I'm not bringing Mc. I will not needlessly involve them. This will stay between us." Satan began to grow angry. He couldn't help it. Typical Lucifer, complicating matters.
"If you don't come right now, I'll drag you both back personally." Satan knew he wasn't kidding. None of his threats were empty.
"Fine. Have it your way. We'll be home shortly." Satan hung up before Lucifer could respond. By now, the entire room was staring at him. He looked totally different than he had before. He was tense, his rage obvious.
"Are we leaving? What's the matter? Did something happen?" Mc looked at him, concerned.
"I'm heading home to take care of something, but you're staying here. I promise it's nothing serious." He lied through his teeth. He didn't know why Lucifer wanted Mc there, but he knew it couldn't be good. The journal was bad news, and they were involved in no way.
"Are you sure? Lucifer said he wanted me there, right? You know how good I am at sorting out issues in your family. I really don't mind, if that's the issues." They squeezed him a little. They were so caring. Too caring.
"I'm sure. I won't act out or anything. He's probably mad about chores or something. I wonder if Mammon sold his underwear while it was my turn to do laundry again." Satan smiled. They cracked a small smile back.
"Alright. Keep me updated. I'll be waiting for you." Mc pressed a kiss to his forehead before climbing off of him.
"Simeon, before I go, can I have a quick word?" Simeon, who was comforting Luke, turned at the sound of his name.
"Of course." Simeon stood up, gesturing for Mc to take his seat next to Solomon. Luke was seated on the floor between them. Mc looked worried, but moved regardless. Solomon looked around the room, studying everyone's expressions. Simeon walked with Satan to the entry way. "What's the matter?" He asked, holding out Satan's coat for him.
"I want you to place a blessing on this building. Do not let any demon in under any circumstance. Including me. I don't care what they say. I don't have time to explain, but something is very wrong at the House of Lamentation and I don't want a single one of my brothers near Mc." He shoved his shoes on as he spoke. He hastily put on his jacket and turned to look at Simeon one last time.
"I don't know what could be wrong, but I trust you. Mc is safe in mine and Solomon's hands." Simeon let his hands fall to his sides, opening the door for Satan. He watched as he took off running in the opposite direction of the House of Lamentation. He could only stare and wait for him to be a good distance away, before shutting the door. He went back to the living room to find Mc hugging Luke, Solomon with a hand on Luke's shoulder.
"Solomon." Simeon said the sorcerer's name. He stood up and walked over to him. "Satan didn't tell me what the matter was, but I need you to do a quick check of the house to make sure nobody but us is in here. Satan requested I bless the house to keep his brothers out." The expression on both of their faces was grim.
"Of course." Solomon shut his eyes and waved his hand. Once he reopened them, Simeon knew he had completed the check. "Nobody but the four of us are here."
"Thank you. Normally I would ask Luke to help me perform the blessing, but I would prefer to leave him alone for now. Will you accompany me?" Solomon nodded. Simeon led him away, leaving the room together, leaving Mc and Luke along together on the sofa in the once full room.
"What's wrong, Mc?" Luke asked them. For once, they had no clue how to respond to the boy.
"I'm not sure. Simeon might know more, but for now, we just have to wait. In the meantime, do you wanna play some more of the games?" Mc hoped to take his mind of the ordeal.
"I don't really feel like it, sorry." He sighed, worried. He had always had concerns about Mc living with demons and them seemed to be coming to fruition.
"That's alright. Do you want to watching something maybe? Simeon made cookies that are cooling in the kitchen, right? We can get those." Mc tried again to get him in better spirits.
"Let's wait for Simeon and Solomon to get back. They might be worried if they return and we're gone." Luke admitted.
"Good point. I'll turn on a movie for now. What do you want to watch?" Mc got up, leaving Luke in their spot.
"Anything." He usually had more to say. Mc could tell Luke was very worried.
"Alright." Mc went through the various dvds Solomon had stored away near the tv. After finding one they liked, they put it on. The two of them watched this movie together since there was nothing better to do. Eventually, Simeon and Solomon returned with said cookies. Rather than sit on the free couch, they all sat together. They could all tell Luke was worried. The desserts remained untouched.
"I have a surprise that I think you'll like, Luke." Solomon spoke up. Luke picked up his head. "I was told that Mc could stay the night, so we can have a big sleepover together. Does that sound good?" Luke perked up.
"Oh, good. That sounds great! I don't want to send Mc back to those icky demons. Where are we sleeping?" Luke sounded excited, making the rest of the room smile.
“We can stay in my room.” Solomon watched as the little angel jumped out of the cuddle pile and ran to gather pillows and blankets.
“It’s nice to see him happy again. I honestly think he might be more concerned than me.” Mc sighed, reaching for a cookie.
“If we knew what was wrong, we would tell you. I just know Satan asked me to place a blessing on the house.” Simeon explains.
"I figured. It's fine. We just need to hope for the best..." Mc stares at the cookie, thinking about Satan and what he might be doing right now. They just hoped he was safe.
ty for putting up with me and not putting out anything for so long... and sorry for the cliffhanger lol. really wanted this out but a. not sure how much longer it will take and b. not sure what I want the ending to be yet! lol
part two soon hopefully sorry to anon for taking so long!!!!
#obey me#obey me!#obey me satan#obey me x reader#obey me asmo#obey me levi#obey me belphie#obey me mammon#obey me beel#obey me lucifer#obey me belphegor#obey me angst#obey me solomon#obey me mc#obey me shall we date#omswd#obey me simeon#obey me luke#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me! shall we date#obey me! shall we date?#obey me leviathan#obey me beelzebub#obey me asmodeus
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Mind control tanguish?? (i was gunna offer time loop for the hell-raisers as another one, but ut canon is Basically a time loop aint it SO!! Make tanguish do something wild)
Helsknight hummed tunelessly under his breath as he cooked dinner, piling some chicken and mushrooms into a pan to fry. He didn't know when Tanguish would be home [every trip to Hermitcraft was a gamble, when it came to time] but he figured whenever the little pest came home, he would be hungry. Besides that, Helsknight was hungry, so he might as well do something about it. Worst case scenario, he would just reheat a plate for Tanguish on the furnace when he got here. Or threw away wasted food. The point was he was hungry, so it wasn't wasted time at least. He pulled some flour out from a cabinet, frowning down at it and wondering what his chances of making a decent gravy were.
[Gravy was the bane of cooking. It either turned out like wallpaper paste, or it turned out like soup. Rarely, when every god and saint turned their greatest blessings on Helsknight for a moment, and every star in every heaven aligned, and every angel and allay and fairy-dust creature held its breath and crossed it's fingers, he would make a passable gravy.]
Helsknight sighed, tossed a few spoonfuls of flour into a pan, and resigned to try his luck. He didn't feel very lucky today, but then again, any day he made gravy, he didn't feel lucky, even if it did taste good in the end.
"I should learn how to bake," he grumbled to himself, eyeing the little bag of flour dispassionately. Tanguish would certainly appreciate it, and it would be cheaper to make a batch of muffins from scratch, instead of buying them from a cart four times a week. Helsknight stirred his fledgling gravy absentmindedly, waiting for the flour to brown, and considering his chances of finding a half-decent cookbook the next time he went to the market. Behind him he heard a clatter of claws, the unmistakable noise of Tanguish stepping into hels. A soft breath of chill dampened the room like a breeze. Helsknight threw a glance over his shoulder.
"Hey, what's your opinion on homemade--?"
Instinct made Helsknight slam to the side as Tanguish propelled himself over the kitchen island, Helsknight's rondel dagger in his hand. The point dug itself into the wall over the stove at about chest-height, a very intentional, very lethal lunge. It missed him by a decent margin; Helsknight was quick, even when he was caught off-guard. That one look over his shoulder, and years of Colosseum training and instincts, had saved his life.
Anger, hot and baffled and electric, raced through Helsknight's chest. He backpedaled towards their little dining table as Tanguish yanked the dagger out of the wall. He needed distance, he needed room to move. [He needed a house that wasn't so saints-damned small.]
"Tanguish, what in hels--?!" Helsknight managed before Tanguish was lurching for him again, a sharp, quick, dagger-pointed shadow dappled in flickering stars. Helsknight snapped a hand out, trying to bat him aside, only for Tanguish to duck nimbly beneath his outstretched arm. The dagger stabbed in towards him again, and Helsknight barely twisted away in time.
"Tanguish! Stop!" Helsknight shouted, confusion and adrenaline crashing together in his chest, muddling up his instincts. His training, his impulse, his experience in the Colosseum, demanded he fight back. He was unarmed [why would he stay armed and armored in the safety of his own home, when he planned to stay in the rest of the day?] but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. He knew a few ways of disarming someone with his bare hands, and he knew how to punch, and kick, and break bones. But his louder, conscious mind screamed at him this is Tanguish! He can't break Tanguish.
Tanguish didn't give him long to be horrified by the thought. He was lunging again, arrow-quick, and this time when Helsknight jolted backwards the blade nicked his out-flung arm. He didn't know if he was proud, or if he regretted how sharp the blade was -- his training had come in handy.
[It was marvelous really, how deadly his little pest could be when he put his mind to it. Helsknight had always thought Tanguish learned more than he let on. He was simply too scared of causing harm to use it. But he wasn't scared of causing harm now. No, he seemed hels-bent on shredding Helsknight where he stood, and he didn't know why.]
"Could you at least tell me what the hels I did to bring this on?" Helsknight demanded, a grin writhing across his teeth. It was something he knew intimidated people, intimidated Tanguish. There was something about baring teeth while fighting that seemed dangerous. If Tanguish cared, it didn't show, and he didn't respond. He just crouched low and gazed back at him, eyes half-shut in something like concentration. It gave him the look of a sleepwalker, and Helsknight didn't like it. He was used to the wide, curious, cat-like gaze, glittering in dandelion yellow.
"Tanguish?" Helsknight breathed, taking advantage of the pause. "Look, I don't want to hurt you--"
Tanguish lunged again when he was mid-sentence, something that might have killed him, if he hadn't seen Martyn do it a thousand times. Even with that knowledge, he almost reacted too late, side-stepping and slamming a heavy palm into Tanguish's shoulder, tossing him off-balance. Helsknight let out a short breath through his nose when Tanguish regained his feet, undaunted.
"I'm not running away," Helsknight said witheringly, dashing for the door. He could feel Tanguish following like a wasp over his shoulder, more the impression of danger than a true knowledge of what he was doing. Helsknight ducked out the door and managed to yank it shut behind him before Tanguish could follow, and was treated to a heavy slam as Tanguish tried to follow. Helsknight held it shut for a second, trying to figure out -- trying to figure out anything.
[Would Tanguish try to break down the door? Surely he couldn't. Even as... weirdly determined as he was to harm Helsknight, that wasn't something he was strong enough to do, especially with Helsknight bracing the other side. But the house had windows. Would Tanguish care about glass? It would cut him to ribbons. He could seriously hurt himself if he -- why was he worried about Tanguish jumping through a window? If the little idiot wanted to deal with a face full of glass--]
Helsknight released the doorknob and stepped aside. He needed to get that knife away, pin him still, preferably without hurting him too badly. His guts gave an uncomfortable squirm.
[How bad is too bad? And why? Why was this happening? It wasn't just strange, it just wasn't Tanguish. He didn't have a dangerous bone in his body.]
The doorknob clicked. Helsknight pressed himself against the wall, hiding behind the door as it swung open. He just needed a few seconds. He was stronger -- that's all he needed. Tanguish stepped onto the street, and before he had the chance to look around, Helsknight lunged forward and wrapped his arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides. He lifted Tanguish off his feet, trying to keep the thrashing feet from kicking anything.
"Tanguish, I need you to--"
Tanguish's head snapped back suddenly, slamming into Helsknight's mouth and nose. He swore, and his grip loosened, and Tanguish's sharp elbow dug itself into his side hard enough wince away some of his breath. A clawed foot came down on his ankle, and then Tanguish was twisting, and Helsknight, whose only objective narrowed into [don't get stabbed you fucking idiot] drove a punch into Tanguish's sternum. Tanguish's breath left him in a whoosh, and he curled in on himself a little, some sense of self-preservation kicking in. But he didn't cry out in pain, and he didn't drop the knife.
A lancing, twisting feeling darted through Helsknight's guts. It was a feeling so unfamiliar it was nearly foreign, hard to place, and hesitant to name. Dread. Dread as Tanguish turned that sleepwalker's gaze on him again, re-positioned his dagger to continue fighting. His tail gave a contemplative lash, a cat figuring its best approach on a bird, and it had been a long, long time since Helsknight felt like prey. Dread made his mouth dry, closed his throat, blanked his already reeling thoughts.
[What should he do? What could he do?]
Helsknight took a hesitant step back. Tanguish's eyes narrowed, and glittered blue.
[Blue? Blue. A little ring of blue, like a clear, winter's morning, ringed his yellow iris. That hadn't always been there. He knew the color of Tanguish's eyes.]
"Tanguish, talk to me," Helsknight said, taking another hesitant step back. "What happened? Whatever it is, we can fix this. I promise."
Tanguish let out a slow breath, and the blue ring around his iris seemed to flicker, then flashed brighter. Helsknight swore again as Tanguish pounced. He caught Tanguish's wrist, and might have even considered breaking it, had Tanguish not twisted out of his grip in the second of hesitation he gave in to. Helsknight's perception narrowed to the point of the knife as he dodged it, sidestepped it, and then spun on his heel and ran.
Helsknight needed time to think, needed time to figure out what was, whatever was happening. And he was faster than Tanguish. Even if he couldn't fathom harming him, he would always be faster. And armor-less as he was, he felt unnaturally fleet, near to flying. He was down three blocks, into an alley, over a wall and two more blocks over before he stopped, panting, to check for pursuit.
"I'm not running away," he breathed again, to himself, to his Saint, to Tanguish. He wasn't. He just needed time. He just needed to pull himself together, to figure shit out, to stop shaking. To stop shaking? Helsknight looked down at his hands, at the tremor starting. He swallowed hard.
[Okay, he was a little freaked out. He was allowed to be a little freaked out. His best friend was trying to kill him, and he didn't know why, and apparently the veil between "Nice Normal Tanguish" and "Silent Death-Machine Tanguish" was unnervingly thin. And Helsknight wasn't used to someone trying to kill him assassination-style, through dogged pursuit and bloodless silence. He was used to arena fights, and occasional back-alley brawls, where things were loud and obvious and made fucking sense.]
"I'm going to kill him," Helsknight hissed, stealing down the alley as fast as he dared. He didn't know who he was going to kill. Whoever had done this, maybe. Certainly not Tanguish. He hadn't really tried, physically he thought he could, if he'd just commit. But he had no weapon, and his options for killing his best friend [one of a slim handful of people he would gladly die for] were all slow and grim and painful, and not something he would inflict on anyone willingly.
[He would just have to evade, and try to knock some sense into him? But head wounds were difficult. The margin between unconsciousness and death was illusive, and he was a knight for helssakes he didn't bludgeon people. He was so ill-equipped for something like this, it was staggering. But why would he be equipped for his best friend randomly trying to kill him?]
There was a sound. There must have been. The whisper of breathing. The slide of claws. The crackle of gathering frost. Something set Helsknight's hair prickling, the gooseflesh on his arms raised.
[The rooftops.]
Helsknight didn't have time to look up. Suddenly a weight fell on his shoulders, and he was slamming to the ground. Tanguish's hand dug claws into the back of his neck, his knees dug into his shoulders. Helsknight twisted his whole body as hard as he could, wrenching his elbow back to slam into Tanguish's side. He flipped over, throwing Tanguish off him for just a moment. He got an arm underneath himself, tried to scrabble backwards, boots digging into tiles. Tanguish lunged on top of him again, and Helsknight threw a hand between them. A noise escaped his throat as the knife slashed through the webbing between his thumb and his forefinger, but he managed to wrap his fist around the hilt.
Tanguish was on top of him, bearing his full weight down on the dagger, trying to drive it into his throat. Helsknight clenched his bleeding hand around it, while is other arm scrabbled at the cobblestones, and through the haze of half-panic finally found its way around one of Tanguish's wrists. They were too close. He couldn't make full use of his longer arms, his strength, his leverage, and while his feet scrabbled, Tanguish's long tail twisted out for balance, and he held firm.
There was a buzzing starting in the back of Helsknight's mind, a panic he wasn't used to. His hands shook. His hand was bleeding, and it had to be his hand, didn't it?
[Note to self, Tanguish had laughed once, Helsknight is weak to hand wounds.]
He couldn't pass out. Little sparks and stars crowded his peripheral vision, his awareness narrowed itself to the space between his hands, and the slickness of the dagger, and the tear in the webbing between his fingers, and how stupid that was. A Colosseum gladiator, a knight of Blood and Steel, laid low by a flesh wound.
"Tanguish, you don't want to do this," Helsknight grunted, his voice buried beneath the buzzing of panic and his heartbeat in his ears. "You don't want to hurt me."
Tanguish threw his shoulder forward, and the twist sent tearing pain through his hand, and his grip slipped dangerously. Every muscle in his body tightened in dread and desperation, and he screwed his eyes shut as he clenched his bloody fist tighter. An undignified wince of a noise squeezed its way out of his throat, but it was better than screaming.
"Okay! Maybe you want to hurt me. Fine." Helsknight grimaced. He could feel the blood from his hand dripping onto his neck. A dangerous foreshadowing of just where the blade was aimed. "Tell me why. Tell me anything."
He managed to crack an eye open, to blink away the blooming stars. He gripped the knife and a spinning world in his bloody hands, and clung to consciousness and life with equal fervor. And Tanguish watched him, impassive and cold, that little blue ring a persistent chain around his iris. It reminded Helsknight of something, something that made his stomach twist. It took a moment to place a coherent thought to the feelings, a long moment where he breathed and shook and bled, and Tanguish watched.
[Wels. The open sky blue of Wels's eyes. Ice dagger blue. He clawed at his memory for any way that made sense, and in his flailing finally remembered what Tanguish had said about those golden, inescapable commands. How far could they compel? Surely not this far. Surely--]
Helsknight swallowed hard.
[Right. He just needed to break the command. That was all. That was all.]
Helsknight reached into himself for any lie of calm, any ghost of reassurance. He tried to steady his voice. Tried to force command, and calm, and certainty into his words. Stilted and shaky, and hoarsely whispered, he half commanded, half pleaded.
"Tanguish, let go of the knife."
Above him, Tanguish blinked. The pressure on the knife didn't relent, nor did the blue ring around his iris.
"Please let go of the knife."
Tanguish's fist balled tighter, and as it did the knife twisted just barely. He felt the burning in his hand, and Helsknight lost his words behind pain that should have been insignificant, and stars and noise in his head.
"You're scaring me," Helsknight whimpered, and then managed more firmly. "You don't scare people. This isn't you. You don't want to do this to me."
He searched Tanguish's eyes again. Was that a flicker in the blue? He couldn't tell. He couldn't tell.
"Helssakes," he swore. His hand grasping Tanguish's wrist reached up to grab the back of Tanguish's head, fingers tangling in his hair. He wished he could force Tanguish to focus, to center that sleepwalker's stare on something other than his general direction. "If you're going to kill me, look at me."
Tanguish blinked again. There was a shimmer in his eyes, and Helsknight winced as a tear dropped onto his face. A grim smile worked its way onto his teeth. No, that blue ring hadn't flickered. Tanguish had simply started crying.
"You're not going to kill me." Helsknight whispered. He closed his eyes, and his voice was a prayer, and it was a command. "You're not going to kill me."
He couldn't tell how much of the shaking in his arm was from him, or from Tanguish. He couldn't tell if the pain in his hand was from pressure, or from the wound. But he knew this was hurting them both, and he needed it over with, one way or another.
"You're not going to kill me."
Helsknight had been killed by wounds to his neck before. The Colosseum was a terrible place to die sometimes. He told himself he could bear it. Told himself if the pain came, he would try to hide the terribleness of it. He wouldn't gasp, or scream, or any of the other horrible, dramatic thrashings a person could do when they bled. He would make himself small and silent. He would respawn, if he could, and he would find his way back here, and he would find a way to fix this. Helsknight released Tanguish, and, eyes closed, braced himself for whatever happened next.
He couldn't stop himself from flinching when a few more teardrops fell on his face. But the blade didn't come. Helsknight dared to crack an eye open.
"Tanguish?"
Tanguish moved, and Helsknight stiffened, only to relax again when the blade clattered to the ground beside them. Helsknight let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and before Tanguish could scramble away from him, or devolve into a blubbering mess, or shake apart or fall under some new spell, or any of a thousand other things Tanguish could probably do, Helsknight wrapped his arms around Tanguish's neck and dragged him into a hug.
"Helsknight--"
"You idiot," Helsknight snapped, crushing Tanguish against his chest. He had the grace to drag them over to the side, so he couldn't bleed quite so much on both of them, but when Tanguish squirmed he held him tighter and refused to let him go. "Don't scare me like that again."
"H-helsknight I'm s-"
"You're sorry," Helsknight interrupted him, screwing his eyes shut, suddenly scared he was going to start crying too. From relief. From the ridiculousness of whatever had happened. From the closeness to disaster. From how angry he was that Tanguish felt the need to apologize. "Gods. I thought I'd lost you."
Tanguish had the audacity to laugh, a miserable hiccup of a noise that tangled itself in growing sobs, and muffled itself against Helsknight's chest. "You thought you lost me?"
"You were so quiet," Helsknight said, feeling dread lance through his stomach like a knife wound. "It's like you weren't even there."
"I was there," Tanguish whispered, his fists balled into Helsknight's shirt, like he could somehow cling closer. "I was there."
"Of course you were," Helsknight murmured back. "Of course you were."
#Situation Asks#RnS asks#helsknight#tanguish#countthelions#you. you knew EXACTLY what you asked for you fiend#tw blood#tw fighting#tw wounds#gosh but it was amazing angsty fun to write#probably won't get to any more of the asks tonight this one took awhile#but feel free to send more#all terrible things happen in the kitchen jsyk#rns ficlet
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Ally: Gulm the Gorger
The usual dust and mildew scents of the dungeon give way to the wafting odor of woodsmoke, vinnager, and frying onions. As they enter the chamber, they find a hulking orc brooding over a bubbling cauldron. He looks to regard them, and while he is distracted something limp and tendrilled flops out of the boiling water. He swears, and beats the whatever-it-is into submission before using a heavy iron ladle to drown it in the broth.
At some prompting (and his insistance they taste test the soup) the orc introduces himself. Gulm has been the quartermaster for a number of barbarian camps and raiding parties and he’s seen it all. Two decades or so their war leader decided that the party would raid a dungeon, and while all the youngbloods were getting themselves killed in the lower levels, Gulm was getting a taste for dungeon cuisine. The tastes and textures of monstrous cooking are a treat for a gourmand like Gulm, who spends his twilight years travelling to different delves, killing and cooking all the strange new creatures he can find.
Gulm has likely eaten everything “common” at his particular level, but if the party kills something big and interesting and brings it back to him, he’ll gladly cook it for them, granting them extra healing on a rest. He has no taboo against eating sentient creatures, but finds the flesh of humanoids to be plain and unappetizing. He likewise has no qualms about eating undead, and has worked out a few tricks to make it palatable.
The gorger is crude and standoffish, refusing the offer to travel with the party if it is made. That said, they will likely find him inexplicably in their next dungeon delve, and the one after that, and the one after that. If the party impresses him with a truly rare carcass, Gulm WILL tersely attach himself to the party and begin to act as their quartermaster, ensuring their camp is well cared for, their meals are made to his standard, and their wounds are tended to the best of his middling ability.
Eventually Gulm will die, He has no illusions otherwise. He’s too old an orc to believe his savage fortitude will sustain him forever. He is still an orc though, and plans to go out fighting. If the party has not earned his trust, he will die offscreen, having just set up camp in the final dungeon but seemingly nowhere to be found. If they have earned his trust, he will die for the party, ensuring they live to enjoy at least one more meal. Upon searching his kit, the players will find His prized possession: a cookbook written in orcish, in which he records all his greatest discoveries and experiments. The exact effects of this cookbook are up to you as a DM, but I suggest a once a week “ritual” to cast hero’s feast.
Art
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❆ ₊ ⊹ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 — 𝐈. 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈 ⊹₊ ❆
yuji happily adds more marshmallows, oblivious to the side eye you give him.
“yuji, i think we’re supposed to add only one.”
“but he’s lonely! we need to give him friends, right?”
when presented with such brilliant logic, of course you couldn’t argue.
you shrug, watching his pout turn into a big smile. “thank you, you’re the best!” he presses a kiss to your cheek before going back to adding ten more marshmallows, decorating them like tiny snowmen with great care.
you don’t have the heart to tell him that they’ll probably tip over and get deformed in the hot liquid.
you glance down at the cookbook.
the cookies in the picture look delicious, cracks in the soft yet crunchy texture decorated with chocolate chips. a side of warm milk and you’re sure you’ll be entering heaven.
your mouth waters at the sight of them but then the oven’s timer goes off and all of a sudden, you don’t feel very inclined to try any cookies (lest you get food poisoning.)
yuji, however, rushes to take them out and and his excitement floats over to you as you reluctantly follow him.
“here.” you hand him the mittens before he could burn himself and he places the tray on the kitchen counter, stars sparkling in his eyes.
yuji brings out two icing pipes from god knows where, pointing them like guns at the cookies. “agent [name], it’s time to get to work.”
the counter and your boyfriend’s face are a mess. there’s buckets of frosting smeared on both and the floor is covered with sprinkles that snuck into every nook and cranny of your apartment but the job is finally done.
you stare at the tray. variations of misshapen christmas trees, reindeers and santa claus stare back at you.
yuji, of course, is elated. he hooks an arm around your shoulders and pulls you to his side, gushing, “look! they’re our babies!”
“mhm.” if you had santa claus with a malicious smile on a melting face as your baby, you’d give him up for adoption. or do one better and chuck him into a furnace.
you told yuji that you could just buy cookies from the bakery that nanami recommended but nooo, ‘i want to eat the cookies that we made with love, [name].’
the thought softens you a little bit and you bump your cookie against his, “cheers.” you suppose you could deal with food poisoning if it was for yuji.
anyway, it’s true that you had made them with love and so, how bad could they be?
crunch.
okay, really bad. you chew thoughtfully on the rock hard cookie—if it could even be called that. each bite breaks some of your teeth and the sickly sweet of the icing reminds you of eating a spoonful of sugar.
you look over to find that yuji’s smile slowly fades away and if you were more kind, you would have tried harder to control your laugh.
“they taste worse than gojo sensei’s croissants.”
“that’s an exaggeration.” you hand him a can of whipped cream. he gladly accepts, opening his mouth wide and spraying cream worth half of the can into his mouth.
“maybe we shouldn’t have used up all of the chocolate chips.” he manages out through a mouthful of whipped cream. at least if you had them, you wouldn’t have had to starve for dinner today.
“it’s okay. that’s why we made these.” you hand him the cup of hot chocolate he made, popping in two candy canes. he adds in two straws, looking at you with rekindled excitement in his eyes, “i saw couples drinking it like this so we can share one too!”
“pathetic,” a deep voice interferes, “you creatures are absolutely pathetic.”
the eyes on yuji’s cheek judge the decapitated santa on the cookie tray. “i’m sure even my fingers taste better than whatever that is.”
yuji smacks his cheek and like a mosquito, sukuna dodges and appears on his other cheek, snickering. yuji looks at you like a kicked puppy.
“aw, my poor baby.” you coo at his expression, patting his cheek. of course you can’t resist him when his eyes turn glossy and his lower lip juts out like that. you lean up to kiss yuji’s cheek, only to be met with a pair of smirking lips.
“sukuna!!”
#itadori x reader#itadori yuuji#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#omg look shes not dead 😮🫵#the endinging is abrupt but my hands r tied#now i nust scurry off to write more with my co writer—stress#vera’s.christmas.calender.🗓️#vera’s.jjk.library.✎
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02/19/2024 Daily OFMD Recap
TLDR; Cast & Crew; Rhys Darby; Con O'Neil; Kristian Nairn; Samba Schutte; Wee John Wondays; LubeAsACrew; Stats/Trends; Fan Spotlight; Engagement Prompts; LoveNotes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika
Hey All, today's been an off day for me, so please let me know if I've missed something. Hope you all had fun!
= Cast & Crew Sightings =
== Rhys Darby ==
Well, our goofball of a captain is back with more Red Dead Redemption II, check out Part 2 below:
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Rhys also did comedy at Bourbon Room Hollywood last week, and = tmiddendorfphoto on IG captured quite a lot of photos of his set. Feel free to visit them:
== Con O ' Neill ==
Whoops! I had this prepped for yesterday then completely forgot, sorry Con! Con was out seeing BettyRules in NYC!
== Wee John Wonday ==
Kristian had Samba on WJW Today! Lots of cool stuff they chatted above! If you're unable to watch right now, there's a small breakdown of various high points below:
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Highlights/Things We Learned:
Samba baby's name is Ocean
Samba was kind enough to stand in for WJW when someone else had to drop off for work.
Samba loves giving Kristian middle names:
Kristian Victoria Nairn / Kristian Alexander Nairn / Kristian Valaria Nairn, Kristian Venereal Disease Nairn / Kristian Damien Nairn / Kristian Nicholas Nairn / Kristian Tabitha Nairn
There were live doves that would shit on you on set, and they shat on Samson
Kristian was a professional Chef
Samba wants to do Cryptic Factor w/Rhys
Samba is big into ufo's and cryptids
Kristian is also into paranormal stuff
Kristian - In New Zealand saw weird things on the lawn of his rental place (weird creatures focused on the balcony of his room)
David Fane - ate all the cheese in Calypso's Birthday
They really appreciate all the fans trying to save OFMD and would LOVE to get a season 3, even if only for 2 hours.
Samba would like ot do a bts/blooper combo but has to get permission first
For the wrap party, the cast members got each other gifts:
Samson got everyone crocs
EDIT: David Fane gave them Samoan necklaces (ty @denizbevan)!
Kristian said his "Gifts got stolen"
Samba gave them pictures / BTS videos
Q: Who was most elusive in regards to BTS?
Joel - also Ewan
Q: Favorite Soup?
Sambas favorite Soup - Chicken Noodle (chicken soup)
Kristian's favorite Soup - Cream of Tomato
Q: Did anything change with Roach in S2?
Yes, he became softer / trusting
Q: Lots of great energy and hanging out between crew members and family, (not something often seen) what do you think led to that?
Casting director Alison Jones - awesome at casting
Energy on set was positive and acceptance from the get go that helped
Sailing training, stunt training, sword fighting together helped bonding
Everyone on the cast was odd, and people moved out together so lots of small found family situations
Long hours together
Note: Stede's story time everyone is actually asleep, cause they've been up for like 18 hrs
Q: What's your favourite dessert, that you could live off forever?
Roach - Chocolate Mousse, really fluffy and airy
Kristian - Black Forest Cake
Q: What was best part of working in New Zealand?
8 hr days instead of 18 hrs days
Nature was gorgeous
Maori Elders did a land blessing
Q: Roach played a lot of roles, what do you think was his main role?
Cook, Doctor, therapist in that order.
Q: Would Aamba release a cookbook?
If enough interest, Yes - OFMD Cast Favorite Cookbook
And Mac and cheese recipe
Cakes and desserts
Q: What's it like being a new dad?
Amazing , no time to catch breath, feeling a lot of protectiveness and excitement and energy to step up and take care of the kiddo
So fulfilling, Sambas a great dad.
Original Script / Deleted Scene Stuff:
In original script: Roach was going to end up with the crew of revenge, but then changed the script cause Samba would look like a kid who stole his dads jacket, so Frenchie was cap
Originally Zheng called the crew "beta" instead of "tender" but they changed it.
Innkeeper deleted scenes:
Everyone's eating soup on deck, roach was supposed to be serving people soup, and Fang says "Ah, Leroy, I'm so glad you're alive?" and Lucius goes "I'm sorry do you think my name is Leroy?"
Oluwande was crying, Jim asks if he was, he says no he gets that thing when he's around grass, and Jim says "A yeah lots of grass around here"
Other deleted scene:
Kristian saying "its sizest" doing big guy stuff
And roach says he's stuck doing tall skinnhy guy stuff
Pete asks if he's stuck doing bald guy stuff
More Deleted scenes:
Ewan zip lines over first and yells: "I was born to fly"
Roach zip line screams quietly cause they tell him to be quiet, and then he lands and says, "why its so sticky I wanna go back", and he tries to get back on the rope but Frenchie flys in and knocks him over.
Another Delete scene:
Wee John was going to dress up as cupid, would have encouraged Stede and Ed, who would have danced to "At Last" and then when and boned.
== Samba BTS ==
In honor of Wee John Wonday's, Samba added some more BTS starring Kristian, and shared the video he talked about in WJW regarding Kristian's birthday.
== Lube As A Crew ==
Astroglide sent @Seven_Sugars a carepackage for a lovely review!
== Stats Stats Stats / Trends ==
Thank you @meowzawowza_ as usual for the awesome insight!
Trends! Thank you @merryfinches and @debphotog for catching these!
== Fan Spotlight ==
For those of you not on twitter, you may not have seen @wndrngnomad's collage's she's been doing each day for the cast members! They go back quite a while so I'll add them all to the repo, but they kind enough to give me permission to share them with the everyone outside of twitter!
== Engagement Prompts ==
Over on Instagram @saveofmdcrewmates have some engagement prompts for tomorrow: #CrossoverCruesday. Time to switch it up! What is your fantasy crossover beween another show and OFMD? Crossover AU anyone?
== Articles ==
Special thanks to @heide79728 on Twitter for sharing all these international headlines!
HBO MAX "praised the loyal audience that engaged with the series and contributed to building an interactive community around it." - Article in Arabic
"14 Recommended Series-fans are already deeply engaged in a massive campaign to encourage another network to buy the rights and produce another season to give the story the ending it deserves" - Article in Hebrew
== Love Notes ==
Hey lovelies.
Have you had any water lately? Did you get to go outside and take a walk? Please remember that you need breaks sometimes, even if they're only a few minutes here or there.
You deserve rest-- and when things get rough, your brain needs a couple minutes to reset. Remember to take care of yourself and practice some self-care.
Self care means fun too!
Do something you enjoy that makes you smile. I'm not a fan of sticker/sticky things-- but I know a lot of people who love googly-eyes so I figured this was appropriate.
Anyway, gnight/gday crew, have a lovely one.
== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==
I think I've done this Darby one on these recaps before, but I needed to have a theme tonight, and the them is well, I think you know.
Yes that is Taika in the stash, from "Boy".
#Instagram#ofmd daily recap#ofmd daily recaps#daily ofmd recap#daily ofmd recaps#our flag means death#adopt our crew#save ofmd#ofmd#taika waititi#samba schutte#con o'neill#david fane#joel fry#ewen bremner#rhys darby#ofmd bts
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Mario/Daisy friendship headcanons I promised to provide!
A popular headcanon for Luigi/Peach is them baking together and it’s usually a very calm activity for them. For Mario and Daisy, however, it would be the exact opposite. It starts out with a simple idea to bake a cake for Peach and Lu to show their appreciation and they go to the kitchen and get supplies, and as they start they both realize that they don’t have any idea how to bake. “It’s fine! There’s cookbooks all over the place that tell you exactly what to do!” Insists Mario, and so they try that at first but since they’re both stubborn asf at times they end up deciding “screw it we don’t need these useless instructions! This looks too easy!” And then they start messing up with the measuring and how long things stay in the oven and long story short a fire starts and everything slowly descends into madness.
They often tease each other about their crushes on Peach and Luigi. Peach will say something sweet to Mario which makes him blush, and after she walks away Daisy leans over with a mischievous smirk, probably commenting on how his face is blending in with his red hat. He covers his face and tells her to shut up (respectfully)
Or when Daisy gives Luigi a kiss on the cheek, Mario childishly goes “ooooooh!” and she pushes him to the ground.
Video games are a battle to the death for these two. If Daisy is in the movie verse I imagine he would introduce games to her which she quickly gains a lot of skill. But of course they’re both super competitive. So whenever someone sees them with controllers in their hands they know to leave the room cuz it won’t take long for the loud screams of pure rage to fill the air.
They also take that completion outside video games. They often have other types of matches such as arm wrestling, checkers, anything that involves an opponent really. It gets tiring to watch at times.
(This is specifically for Wonder) Mario gets the elephant fruit and transforms. He’s mildly confused at first but snaps out of it when he hears Daisy burst out laughing, bending over and holding her stomach. “You look so dumb!!” She shouts through her cackling. Later on in the adventure she gets the fruit as well and looks at her elephant-appearance. Mario folds his arms with a smirk, suppressing some laughter. “You were saying?”
One day Luigi comes home wiping away tears. Both Mario and Daisy go over to him asking what’s wrong. He tries to shrug it off saying someone pushed him on the street earlier, but insists he’s not upset so he tells them not to worry. They both give each other a look. Later that day, after somehow getting some more information, they ring the doorbell of someone’s house. The person opens the door to be greeted by Mario crackling his knuckles while Daisy wields a bat in her hand.
Classic sibling moments where one of them sees a random animal/creature and will point at it and go “that’s you”
After a long day of their absence, Mario and Daisy return home looking absolutely wrecked and disheveled. Their hair’s a mess, their clothes are dirty and ripped, scratches and burn marks on their arms and faces. Everyone else is concerned, but Luigi and Peach immediately scold them and ask what the hell they’ve been up to. They both smile awkwardly and reply “nothing!” in perfect unison. (*cue loud explosion in the background*)
Feel free to add onto this
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Happy Pride! Could you continue ed/Ling engaged? 💜💙💕
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Damn.
He was really hoping that Ling was full of shit.
Instead he finds a dozen references to creatures that could be homunculi, or some really fucked up chimeras, and a copy of Dr. Marcoh's cookbook.
The bastard is in town for one day and now Ed has homework. Great.
He checks out a stack of books that he thinks he'll need for reference and outright steals the cookbook because if it is what he thinks it is, then he doesn't want his name attached to it.
He returns to the dorm and drops the stack of books on the floor then pulls out the cookbook with a flourish. Al is suitably intrigued while Ling and Mei's faces are blank. Typical.
For some reason, alkahestry texts are almost never heavily coded and full of misdirection and metaphors. Probably because none of it is outlawed thanks to the lack of ability to break the laws of the universe.
"Time to earn your keep," he says cheerfully. "How's your calligraphy?"
"Impeccable," Ling says.
Mei makes a so-so gesture.
"Good enough," he says, "you're going to need to copy this down for us, word for word, on loose leaf pages."
"So you found something about homunculi?" he asks eagerly as Mei thumbs through the cookbook.
He shrugs, because there's no reason to make anything easy for Ling if he doesn't have to. "One way to find out."
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Miscellaneous Art Used in the Dragon Age: Official Cookbook: Tastes of Thedas
Blue Building: About the Authors and Photoghraphers, p. 175
Building Etching: Crow Feed, p. 43, Antivan Sip-Sip, p. 161
Sea Creature: Lamprey Cake, p. 147
Table Setting: Goat Custard, p. 127
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When you think of Eastern European Jewish cuisine, which words come to mind? Light? Healthy? Plant based? Probably not. Heavy, homey and meat-centric are more like it.
Fania Lewando died during the Holocaust, but had she been given the full length of her years, Ashkenazi Jewish cuisine may have taken a turn to the vegetarian side and we might all be eating vegetarian kishke and spinach cutlets in place of brisket.
Lewando is not a household name. In fact, she would have been lost to history had it not been for an unlikely turn of events. Thanks to a serendipitous find, her 1937 work, “The Vilna Vegetarian Cookbook” (“Vegetarish-Dietisher Kokhbukh”in Yiddish), was saved from oblivion and introduced to the 21st century.
Vilna in the 1930s, where Lewando and her husband Lazar made their home, was a cosmopolitan city with a large Jewish population. Today, it is the capital of Lithuania but it was then part of Poland. Lewando opened a vegetarian eatery called The Vegetarian Dietetic Restaurant on the edge of the city’s Jewish quarter. It was a popular spot among both Jews and non-Jews, as well as luminaries of the Yiddish-speaking world. (Even renowned artist Marc Chagall signed the restaurant’s guest book.)
Lewando was a staunch believer in the health benefits of vegetarianism and devoted her professional life to promoting these beliefs. She wrote: “It has long been established by the highest medical authorities that food made from fruit and vegetables is far healthier and more suitable for the human organism than food made from meat.” Plus, she wrote, vegetarianism satisfies the Jewish precept of not killing living creatures.
We know little about her life other than she was born Fania Fiszlewicz in the late 1880s to a Jewish family in northern Poland. She married Lazar Lewando, an egg merchant from what is today Belarus and they eventually made their way to Vilna. They did not have children.
Lewando, to quote Jeffrey Yoskowitz, author of “The Gefilte Manifesto” was “a woman who challenged convention;” a successful entrepreneur, which was a rarity among women of the time. She supervised a kosher vegetarian kitchen on an ocean liner that traveled between Poland and the United States, and gave classes on nutrition to Jewish women in her culinary school.
“The Vilna Vegetarian Cookbook” was sold in Europe and the U.S. in Lewando’s day, but most of the copies were lost or destroyed during the Second World War. In 1995, a couple found a copy of the cookbook at a second-hand book fair in England. They understood the importance of a pre-war, Yiddish-language, vegetarian cookbook written by a woman, so purchased it and sent it to the YIVO Institute’s offices in New York. There, it joined the millions of books, periodicals and photos in YIVO’s archives.
It was discovered again by two women who visited YIVO and were captivated by the book’s contents and colorful artwork. They had it translated from Yiddish to English so it could be enjoyed by a wider audience.
Like many Ashkenazi cooks, salt was Lewando’s spice, butter her flavor and dill her herb. The book is filled with dishes you’d expect: kugels and blintzes and latkes; borscht and many ways to use cabbage. There’s imitation gefilte fish and kishke made from vegetables, breadcrumbs, eggs and butter. Her cholent (a slow-cooked Sabbath stew) recipes are meat-free, including one made with prune, apple, potatoes and butter that is a cross between a stew and a tzimmes.
There are also some surprises.
Did you know it was possible to access tomatoes, eggplants, asparagus, lemons, cranberries, olive oil, Jerusalem artichokes, blueberries and candied orange peel in pre-war Vilna? There’s a French influence, too, such as recipes for mayonnaise Provencal and iles flottante, a meringue-based dessert, and a salad of marinated cornichons with marinated mushrooms.
“It’s hard to know who the target audience was for this cookbook,” said Eve Jochnowitz, its English-language translator. “We know from contemporary memoirs that people in Vilna did not have access to these amazing amounts of butter, cream and eggs,” she said. “Lewando was writing from a somewhat privileged and bourgeois position.” While many of these recipes may have been aspirational given the poverty of the Jews at the time, the cookbook demonstrates that it was possible to obtain these ingredients in Vilna, should one have the resources to do so.
While the cookbook is filled with expensive ingredients, there is also, said Jochnowitz, “a great attention to husbanding one’s resources. She was ahead of her time in the zero-waste movement.” Lewando admonishes her readers to waste nothing. Use the cooking water in which you cooked your vegetables for soup stock. Use the vegetables from the soup stock in other dishes. “Throw nothing out,” she writes in the cookbook’s opening essay. “Everything can be made into food.” Including the liquid from fresh vegetables; Lewando instructed her readers on the art of vitamin drinks and juices, with recipes for Vitamin-Rich Beet Juice and Vitamin-Rich Carrot Juice. “This was very heroic of her,” said Jochnowitz. “There were no juice machines! You make the juice by grating the vegetables and then squeezing the juice out by hand.”
Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, a Jewish scholar and Jewish cookbook collector, describes Lewando as “witty.” “She is showing us,” she said, “that once you eliminate meat and fish, you still have an enormous range of foods you can prepare.” Lewando is about “being creative, imaginative and innovative both with traditional dishes and with what she is introducing that is remote from the traditional repertoire.” She does that in unexpected ways. Her milchig (dairy) matzah balls, for example, have an elegance and lightness to them. She instructs the reader to make a meringue with egg whites, fold in the yolks, then combine with matzah meal, melted butter and hot water. Her sauerkraut salad includes porcini mushrooms. One of her kugels combines cauliflower, apples, sliced almonds and candied orange peel.
There is much that, through contemporary eyes, is missing in “The Vilna Vegetarian Cookbook.” The recipes do not give step-by-step instructions; rather you will find general directions. Heating instructions are vague, ranging from a “not-too-hot-oven” to a “warm oven” to a “hot oven.” Lewando assumes the reader’s familiarity with the kitchen that today’s cookbook writer would not.
Lewando and her husband were listed in the 1941 census of the Vilna Ghetto but not in the census of 1942. It is believed that they both died or were killed while attempting to escape. “She really was a visionary,” said Jochnowitz. “It is an unbearable tragedy that she did not live to see the future that she predicted and helped to bring about.”But in cooking her recipes, said Yoskowitz, as dated and incomplete as some of them may be, the conversation between then and now continues.
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Happy Pokémon Day! February 27th is the anniversary of the first two Pokémon games’ release in Japan, and it’s a minor holiday in my house, as a fun excuse to make Pokémon inspired food, watch some Pokémon shows or movies (we’re going to watch Netflix’s new Pokémon Concierge this year!), and get excited about upcoming games and releases. This year, we’re making a Pokémon Sword and Shield inspired burger-steak curry and I’m making a dessert from the Pokémon Cookbook by Victoria Rosenthal. It’s one of my favorite fandom cookbooks – all the recipes are vegetarian or vegan, to get around the awkward question of where does the meat in the Pokémon universe come from?
But that’s not all we’re making! Ever since Nicki and Isabel were released, I’ve been dying to do a post about them and Pokémon’s infamous “Jelly Filled Doughnuts”, better – and more accurately! – known as onigiri.
Pokémon was released in the United States in 1998 via two Gameboy games: Pokémon Red and Pokémon Blue. The games quickly caught on to be one of the biggest pop culture phenomenon of the late 90’s and early 00’s, and as a kid at the heart of this explosion, I can’t overstate how much of a big deal it was. One of the great things about Pokémon – and probably why it has such lasting, widespread appeal – is that there are so many ways to interact with the franchise, and the marketing doesn’t skew hugely towards one gender or the other. Cool, tough Pokémon like Charizard got pretty similar billing to cute, pink Pokémon like Jigglypuff, and there were so many options for potential favorites that it was easy for any kid to find some creature to attach themselves to.
One of my petty complaints with Nicki and Isabel’s collection and books is the almost complete lack of mention of Pokémon and other anime that was really popular among kids in 1999. I know AG probably didn’t want to shell out for licensing deals with Nintendo or The Pokémon Company, but their stories just don’t feel accurate without discussing their prized binder of Pokémon cards or begging their parents to take them to see the Pokémon movie in theaters. Maybe the authors were just a little too old to get caught up in Pokémania?
I’ve also always thought its close overlap with the Beanie Babies crazy helped get millennial children like me very into the “gotta catch ‘em all” aspect of the franchise. Is this why I’m such a crazy toy collector as an adult? Who knows.
The Pokémon anime was one of the main ways kids like me got hooked on the franchise, because not everyone was allowed to have a Gameboy of their own (me), and not everyone liked video games, but even if you didn’t like video games, the cartoon might appeal to you. Although it was far from the first Japanese cartoon to air on US television, Pokémon was one of if not the first truly mainstream favorites of the 1990’s. 4Kids, the company in charge of dubbing the show into English, decided that American kids wouldn’t understand or be open to certain aspects of the show that reflected its Japanese roots, and so made a lot of strange choices in rewriting the script. One of the most notorious was deciding Brock’s rice balls were actually jelly filled doughnuts:
Onigiri – also known as omusubi or nigirimeshi – are balls of rice with a variety of fillings inside. They’re often compared to sandwiches, as an easy, quick, cheap meal or snack that combines carbs and other ingredients. While the concept of taking a rice ball and stuffing it full of other tasty treats goes way back to ancient Japan, the triangle shape became popular in the 1980’s thanks to a new machine that automated the filling process. Further developments over the last 40 years have created unique ways to prepackage onigiri without making the nori wrapping sticky. The ones we made were an attempt at recreating the “Hawaiian” (spam and pineapple) rice balls from our favorite food hall back in DC. One of my favorite pandemic indulgences was getting take out from the food hall, which often included a sampler of some of my favorite onigiri, and I haven’t been able to find anything close to similar where we are now. One of the many reasons I’m excited to move!
Even as a kid, I wasn’t convinced the food in the anime was fried dough with fruit jelly inside, because they sure look like rice. I also think 4Kids didn’t anticipate that Pokémon’s widespread popularity would inspire many of its fans – including me – to become absolutely obsessed with Japanese food and culture. I would’ve been more excited if they’d just been straight with me and shown more Japanese food on the show, and then probably begged my parents to make it or take me to a restaurant that made it. While I can’t confidently cite numbers of how many other people were first exposed to Japanese culture and food through Pokémon and franchises like it, I do think it’s a bit of a missed opportunity to highlight how things like this exposed kids like Nicki and Isabel to parts of a culture outside their own!
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Your monster husband helps you out of a tight spot
General Plot: You find youself stuck and your tentacle monster husband helps you out, this is in no particular order to the overall Chase x reader story
Tentacle Monster (Chase) x bimbo female reader
masterpost
Word Count: 1.5K
W: bimboification monster smut, degrading names, anal and vaginal sex, tentacle sex
“Whew, there’s a lot of these down here,” you murmured as you shuffled through the books in the library basement.
“Just pull out the ones that look like they might sell,” your fellow volunteer said then looked at her watch, “oh, I’ve got to go pick up my kids. Will you be okay here alone?”
You glanced up from your work and smiled.
“Oh of course, Brenda,” you said, waving her away, “I’ll just do a little more and then I’ll lock up here. My husband is on his way to pick me up, anyway.”
She looked at you like she wasn’t convinced and then her phone rang and she glanced at it.
“Oh that’s the daycare, be safe (Y/N) I’ll see you at the book sale!” she shouted over her shoulder as she scrambled up the stairs.
You returned to looking through the titles. There was no rhyme or reason to it, the books that had made it to the basement were abandoned titles for one reason or another. Most of them were just too old to be relevant anymore.
You were looking for some to bring to the annual book sale, old picture books and cookbooks did well. You pushed a few paperbacks aside to find a strange looking book with a leather cover. It had a large metal eye in the center, but no title. You picked it up, fingering the emblem. It almost felt…warm…in your fingers. This was exactly the sort of niche thing someone would buy at the book sale!
You flipped open the pages and frowned. The paper was crisp but the pages were empty. You shrugged, maybe someone could use it as a goth journal. You went to close the book, jumping as you nicked your thumb on the sharp edge of a page.
“Ouch!” you muttered, sucking your thumb into your mouth.
The air in the basement cooled suddenly and the book started to shake in your hand as if it was trying to escape your grasp. You fell back as it flipped open, its covers becoming a mouth.
Shrieking, you crab walked back on your hands and feet trying to get away from the thing you’d awakened, but it sucked you in like a vaccumm cleaner picking up so much dust.
“Oomph!” you released a breath of air as it squeezed around you, drawing you into the now gaping mouth in front of you. It stuffed you down its throat, but it couldn’t seem to get you all the way down, leaving your back end dangling out of its mouth and your head stuck in the void beyond.
You wriggled and fought, hoping to make it one way or another, but no matter how you or the creature tugged and pulled you were completely jammed in. There was a deep chuckle behind you that you recognized as Chase’s. Thank goodness!
“Chase!” your screeched, “help! It’s eating me!”
You felt a heavy hand on your ass and heard more laughing.
“Did my dumb little wife get tricked by a book mimic?” he laughed and tears came to your eyes.
It was not funny! You were about to be digested in an endless void!
“Looks like you’re stuck,” he purred, caressing your bottom with his large hands.
“Do you want my help?” he asked, pinching the ripe flesh.
“Yes!” you squealed, “help me!”
“Okay, but it’s gonna cost ya,” you felt him sliding down the leggings you were wearing and giving your ass another firm squeeze before slapping it.
“Chase you’ve got to be kidding!” you wailed, but you couldn’t stop him if you wanted to. You were good and wedged in the book mimic’s maw, your arms pinned to your sides. It thrashed a bit trying to dislodge you or swallow you, but Chase held you steady while he pulled your panties down to your ankles.
“This is why you shouldn’t be out alone, cupcake,” he said, parting your ass cheeks, “you get yourself into compromising situations.”
You felt his breath on your exposed slit before he licked you from your clit to your puckered hole. His tongue, which was long and wet, danced over your pussy, thrusting into you then playing with your clit, then thrusting into you again. Against your better judgment you moaned at the stimulation, panting into the darkness around you.
Pleased, Chase pressed two fingers inside of you, finding the perfect spot and thrusting into it until your juices poured down his hand. One of his tentacles latched onto your clit, forcing his name past your lips over and over again. The terror you were experiencing only made the orgasm you slammed into stronger, your heart racing and your pussy spasming around his fingers.
“That’s a good girl,” he said, drawing it out by giving you a couple of extra pumps. Then you heard his zipper and felt his thick cock pressing into you.
“Fuck cupcake, you’re always so tight,” he groaned as he thrust himself in deep.
“Chase please!” you screamed, not really sure what you were asking for.
“Eager little dumb slut,” he said, leaving a hot hand print on your ass with a sharp slap, “I’ll give you what you need.”
His cock still impaling you, his tentacles pried your ass cheeks apart, another wriggling in the tight hole. It pounded your asshole as if it were chasing its pleasure with a mind of its own. Two more held your legs stable by the ankle, squirming and writhing as you tried to thrash.
Your eyes crossed as you took him, your tongue hanging out of your mouth. It was a humiliating expression and you were glad only the void saw it.
“You know how good it feels on my tentacles to have them stuck in your tight little holes?” he grunted, drawing back and stuffing himself into you again.
The motions of his hips slamming into you sped up to match the pace of the tentacle in your ass until you were just a drooling, crying mess screaming into the darkness.
The tentacle latched onto your clit started lapping at you in circles, driving your muscles to stiffen around the phalluses fucking you senseless. Chase grunted at the sudden tightness and jerked you into his chest, freeing you, to your relief from the book that was eating you.
With two tentacles he carelessly held the gnashing thing away from you as another tentacle wormed its way into your mouth.
He didn’t stop for a moment, despite the creature only a few feet away from your bodies. Sharp teeth latched onto your shoulder, Chase’s way of telling you to pay attention. Tentacles teased your nipples, flicking them until they were stiff. The thick appendage in your mouth squirmed down your throat, pumping rhythmically with the others, until it lodged itself at the back. You gagged, trying to draw in breath but you couldn’t. Thrashing you tried to pull away. Tentacles held your head still as he whispered into your ear.
“Are you going to be more careful in the future my dumb little kitten?” he purred.
You nodded frantically and the tentacle jammed itself a little deeper before he pulled it back just enough for you to breathe. You inhaled deeply through your nose, your cunt trembling as you came around his limbs. Your eyes went glossy, brain broken with pleasure as your body wracked.
“Fuck!” he roared, the sudden pressure pushing him over the edge.
You choked on the explosion cum that shot down your throat before the tentacle in your mouth forced it down. It retreated with a string of cum and spit stuck to your tongue. Spent, you sagged in his arms, letting him wipe you clean with your pants. He curled you against him, his nose brushing your head.
“I’m glad you're safe, cupcake,” he whispered.
You hummed at him and sank into his chest.
A tentacle wrapped itself over your eyes, since he no longer trusted you to keep them closed at his command and there was a loud ripping sound.
“Let’s go home,” he said, wrapping you in his jacket and returning to his human self.
#monster fucker#monster smut#monster x girl#monster#monster romance#monster x human#monster lover#male yandere#yandere smut#dumbification#bimboification#tentacle monster#tentacles#eldrich horror
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Art Used in the Dragon Age: Official Cookbook: Tastes of Thedas
While there was some new art, previously seen concept art, there was also the use of ending credit slides. Some possibly denoting certain world states that I briefly referred to in the master post here.
I've split it into sections of:
New Art
Previously Shown Art
Character Art and Slides
General World State Ending Slides
Everything is going below the cut because this will be long. I will also note which page and recipe each image accompanies in the book for easy reference. (Here's to hoping tumblr doesn't mess with the image layout.)
Edit 10/30/2023: Added the page numbers that were missed because it glitched out and deleted things when I tried to go over 30 images and didn't notice till now.
New Art
Page numbers from top left to right going down:
Orlesian Woman: Sour Cherries in Cream, p. 121, Tevinter Pumpkin Bread, p. 151
Building Etching: Crow Feed, p. 43, Antivan Sip-Sip, p. 161
Spider Design: Posion Stings, p. 115
Sea Creature: Lamprey Cake, p. 147
Smoking Meat Racks: Smoked Ham from the Anderfels, p. 95
Antaam Spearman: Unidentified Meat, p. 37
Admiral Isabela: The Hissing Drake, p. 157
Etching of Bowl: Rivaini Couscous Salad, p. 19
Etching of Platter: Nevarran Blood Orange Salad, p. 13
Table Setting: Goat Custard, p. 127
Red Bear: Conversion Charts, p. 172
Giant: Lamprey Cake, p. 149
Blue Building: About the Authors and Photoghraphers, p. 175
Mabari and Army: Roasted Turkey with Sides, p. 99
These are all new images with three of these looking to be concept art: the presumably Orlesian woman looking at Andrastian themed items, the antaam spearman preparing to throw a spear, and the table setting of what looks like it might be for Rivain or Tevinter based on the aesthetic. Though I lean more Tevinter due to the snake on the basket.
The bowl and platter look to maybe be prop designs, and they are distinctly bird themed with what looks like feathers around the base of the bowl and then mirrored crows on either side of the platter with a dagger etched in the center.
The red bear shown here is new, though it is similar to a mural in Dragon Age: Inquisition in the barn where there is a green-ish bear with stars on its muzzle breathing what might be fire, while holding the white silhouette of a figure with antlers. (Couldn't attach it due to there being a photo limit.)
Then to further note that the dark blue building image looks similar to some concept art/Development images from Dragon Age: Dreadwolf (DA4)
Previously Shown Art
The piece below have been shown elsewhere before, but there are some new additions so I am showing it here separately from the new art.
Ferelden Spread: Roasted Wyvern, p. 85
This is was first shown in The Art of Dragon Age: Inquisition and is labeled as "Fereldan Fineries". It was coloured and lacked the two figures in the back left of this image. (Below)
Character Art
Cole and Maryden: The Emerald Valley, p. 169
Sera: Sera's Yummy Corn, p. 103
The Iron Bull and Krem: Hot Chocolate, p. 159
Varric and Aveline: Varric's Favorite Pastries, p. 143
Josephine and Inquisitor: Fish Chowder, p. 59
Leliana: Grilled Poussin, p. 77
Cullen: Croissants, p. 137
Morrigan and Keiran: Nettle Soup, p. 65
King Alistair: King Alistair's Lamb and Pea Stew, p. 67
These were mostly character specific ending slides you could get in DAI, going from the top left to right they are slides for:
Trespasser: Human Cole ending up with Maryden.
Trespasser: Partial image of a slide for an Inquisitor who agrees to become a red jenny with Sera and the Inquisition is disbanded.
Trespasser: Iron Bull and the Chargers are alive and taking jobs throughout Orlais and Ferelden.
Trespasser: Varric is Viscount
Trespasser: Josephine, her personal quest completed. This is the romanced Josephine version.
Trespasser: Leliana, not Divine
Trespasser: Cullen, having not taken lyrium during Inquisition
Inquisition: Morrigan and Keiran leaving Skyhold
World of Thedas vol 2: King Alistair
Ending Slides
Antaam Slide: Lentil Soup, p. 63
Halamshiral Slide: The Hanged Man's Mystery Meat Stew, p. 57
Grey Warden Slide: Sweet and Sour Cabbage, p. 61
Disbanded Inquisition Slide: Sugar Cake, p. 145
These were all ending slides you could get at some point in Inquisition, from the top left to right:
Trespasser: The Qunari threat
Inquisition: Kicked out of Halamshiral with low approval
Inquisition: Grey Wardens were kept in southern Thedas to rebuild, they are estranged from the Wardens in Weishaupt
Trespasser: The Inquisition was disbanded
Final Thoughts and Implied World State
Overall the world state makes a lot of sense I think, they went with the one that would be less quantum - so no one is dead or could be dead and is in an important role; hence Cassandra being Divine,
Summary
Inquisition is disbanded
Grey Wardens are divided; though as of the comics and Tevinter Nights we know regardless all Wardens have been called back to Weisshaupt. Unclear if the civil war mentioned in DAI is actually happening.
Morrigan has Kieran and he doesn't have the old god soul anymore
Cole is human
Josephine had her personal quest done.
Leliana wasn't killed in Origins, she is fully human and now retired.
Alistair is king
Cassandra is Divine, no clear answer on the state of the Seekers.
Cullen is retired and established the sanctuary for former templars.
#dragon age#dragon age official art#dragon age tastes of thedas#da: tot#josephine#josephine montilyet#morrigan#cullen#cullen rutherford#the iron bull#krem#sera#leliana#cole#varric#varric tethras#alistair#king alistair#alistair theirin#isabela
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