#I know people like a bird for him but I feel like a lion is perfect | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wri0thesley · 9 months

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lion tamer - jing yuan x reader (12.4k)

it's taken for granted you'll take the job that nobody else wants, whilst the general is indisposed. you just didn't expect things to turn out like this.

cw: not sfw, minors dni. chubby reader. reader is afab but no gendered terms are used. descriptions of raw meat (animals eating), food, pining, fingering, cunnilingus, coming inside. pet names including little bird, darling, little thing. reader is implied to be shorter than jing yuan.

This was a commissioned work.

It’s a quiet whisper, at first - gossip among the lower-downs of the Luofu. You hear it on the fringes and the edges, but you dismiss it as really none of your business; you’re already working harder than most everyone else thanks to the small matter of your far shorter lifespan, and you don’t intend to set yourself back by listening to idle gossip. You have other things to concentrate on; the busywork that you’ve been assigned to as a junior (very junior) member of the Seat of Divine Foresight.

Really, though they call you a ‘non-administrative support specialist’, you know what you really are; a general dogsbody, somebody to pick up all of the pieces that others sweep by. Still; just getting a position here means you’ve outdone most people, and you hold in your heart the idea that you could get even further up this ladder of success if you simply tried hard enough. You’ve heard tell that even some of the long-life species haven’t managed to make it as far as actually working within the Seat itself, so really . . . you can’t help but feel a little proud of yourself.

Which is why you choose to ignore the swirling rumour about your esteemed Arbiter-General until you’re called into a meeting with Yong Hai himself.

(The General is sick, the rumours say. The General may not last another day. The General’s laziness has caught up with him, the General may not make it, and what will we all do then--)

“So,” Yong Hai says, all business. “You’ve probably heard about it already.”

There’s a flare of disquiet in your gut; that the gossip and the rumours you’ve been so steadfastly avoiding are true. You don’t know what the Luofu would do with General Jing Yuan; you cannot imagine the ship and the world without him, when he has been such a stolid presence - and the way that the general public will react doesn’t bear thinking about--

“Stop that,” Yong Hai says, with an amused look in his eye even as he fights to keep his mouth in a firm, commanding line. “It’s not as bad as people are saying. The General has simply . . . contracted something that he isn’t bouncing back as quickly from as we’d hoped. We’ve had to send him off to the Alchemy Commission for a few days, just to see if we can work out how to help . . .” The secretary catches himself, clearly remembering he’s talking to someone who amounts to little more than custodial staff. He coughs. “Anyway. It’s left us in a bit of a conundrum, and after some discussion, we think you’re qualified to handle it.”

You tilt your head to the side as you try and think what you could possibly do to assist in this matter.

You’re no healer; you’re no nurse. You can’t help them figure out how to cure the General, you’re not equipped to sit at his bedside and mop his feverish brow (your cheeks go hot and your face burns at the very thought of it). You certainly can’t take over any of Jing Yuan’s actual duties. The idea of you as any kind of military strategist is laughable--

“How can I help, Sir?” You ask, partly because that is what’s expected of you and partly because you really have no idea what use you’ll be in the situation.

“Ah,” he says, and then he coughs again - he looks into the corner of the room, as if he’s begging someone to help him, and you remember that he and his sister are most often found together. But here, it’s just the two of you, and he has nobody to help him to break whatever news he’s going to break to you. You hope it’s not going to involve cleaning up a sick-room; you’re really not good with that kind of thing--

“We need somebody to tend to his home affairs,” Yong Hai says, eventually. “He . . . Ah, look, I’m going to come out and say it. General Jing Yuan has a penchant for taking in stray animals and the like, and he only even agreed to let himself be looked at on the caveat we had to promise to find someone to look after them.”

You think of the statues of lions that decorate the place, and you feel a trickle of cold sweat down the back of your spine. You hope desperately that the secretary isn’t implying that you’re about to quite literally be fed to the lions--

“Stop looking like that!” He says, exasperated. “All of them are perfectly tame, and you’ll be in no danger. He has a . . . lion that he’s incredibly fond of. Several birds. And . . . ah,” he looks embarrassed again. “He’s informed us he usually leaves out a veritable feast for any other neighbourhood strays on his balcony, and he was very worried that they weren’t going to be properly nourished whilst he was away.”

Finches. You can do that. Neighbourhood strays - cats and dogs, you suppose - are all very well. But the lion . . .

That doesn’t matter. Yong Hai seems to have reached the end of his meeting with you, to his tangible relief. He’s already bustling about his desk and looking longingly towards the closed door.

“A new schedule’s been drawn up for you and sent to you already,” he says. “All of the relevant information should be in the attachments! Have fun, won’t you? The General is so very fond of his pets, you see--”

Your phone beeps as if it is punctuating his point; the secretary beams at you, and you get the distinct impression you are being told to put your best foot forward and roll with the punches. ‘Get on with it’, as someone without any manners might say.

“Understood,” you say, and you force yourself to smile and look on the bright side of things even if you’re sure you’re going to have nightmares about being eaten alive by a lion tonight. This is a post that the General wanted filled personally! This is almost as personal as someone can get to the General, actually; it appears you’ll be working in his actual home! It’s a . . . a step up! A stepping stone!

You force yourself to ignore that it is actually very much a case of sticking the lowest ranked person (and someone well-known for taking on as much as they can with cheerful aplomb, due to your fear of ever really saying ‘no’) onto the job that nobody else wants to do.

“I’ll do my best,” you say, and Yong Hai beams at you even as he gestures for you to go and get to grips with your new role.

Well.

You have no other choice then, really, but to Get On With It.

You are quite frankly terrified the next day, when you turn up to your newest duty. The documents sent to you had instructed you to pick up raw meat for the lion from the General’s most trusted supplier before you went up to his chambers; apparently, birdseed and cat-and-dog food was kept there, but the lion’s appetite could not so easily be sated. You have to give yourself a pep-talk before all of it; have to convince yourself that running away from this new responsibility would be both awful for your career prospects and terribly cruel.

“Ah,” says the supplier, when you turn up and tremulously hand over your phone so he can see the attachments displayed on the screen giving you this new Meat Power, “So you’re looking after the waifs and strays and Mimi, then?”

“Mimi?” You ask, your voice tremulous, and he laughs as he hands over two incredibly full buckets of raw meat. It’s a good job you’re not squeamish.

“That’s the lion,” he says. “The General tried to name her Snow Lion after he realised she wasn’t just going to be a pretty little white housecat, but . . . Mimi fits. You’ll see!”

The concept of Jing Yuan attempting to adopt a pretty little white house cat and being saddled instead with a huge lion, and having to continue to refer to the powerful beast as ‘Mimi’ despite his best efforts, keeps you entertained right up until you’re outside the door to the General’s chambers and you remember that a carnivorous predator awaits you on the other side of it.

“Well,” you say to yourself, hoisting the buckets up and taking a deep breath, “there’s no point delaying the inevitable. If I get eaten today . . .”

And you let the pass-key you’ve been given float against the sensor, until the ornate doors to Jing Yuan’s chambers slowly part and admit you into the Arbiter-General’s inner sanctum.

The first thing that you’re struck by is how it seems that the General left in a rush. The entire place, whilst not dirty, has an air of untidiness. You hear the cheeping of finches from the first room; excitement that their Master may have finally returned to play with them. You can’t help but feel sorry for them - from what Yong Hai has said, it may be quite a while before Jing Yuan is well enough to return to his home.

There are touches of the General everywhere, now that you’re looking. Delicate flowers (you’ve heard he likes small, delicate things, and you can’t help the nervous tug at your clothing as you consider just how indelicate you find yourself). Ceramics and porcelain that you fear are so fragile they may shatter even under your gaze. An unfinished game of star chess, a coffee cup left half-drunk . . . That last one could fetch a fine price in the black market. You’ve heard those traders hawking ‘tissues used by Helm Master Yukong’ or even ‘a book enjoyed by General Jing Yuan’s protege!’.

Before your mind can lead you too far down that dangerous path, though, the lady of the hour appears.

She’s beautiful.

You have to stop yourself gasping aloud. Any fears you might have had seem to fall to the wayside, unimportant, compared to the majesty of the lion before you; the pure white fur, the wise face, the mane that fluffs out from her. She’s pure white; lean, but perhaps with a little pouch at the tummy. Not a single snarl or tangle mars her fur, not a single speck of dirt upon her, like the false moon looking down upon the Luofu--

She sees that you’re holding two big buckets and seems to recognise them, because it’s barely a breath before her ears twitch and she pounces like a kitten, seemingly not realising that you are smaller than her owner and she is far larger than the average kitten is. All of the wind is knocked out of you as you cry out her name and are tackled to the ground.

You find yourself beneath the warmth of her body, a sweet scent emanating from her fur as if the esteemed General regularly bathes and shampoos her. Delighted, she sticks her snout right into one of the buckets. A low, pleased rumble emits from her throat as she works her teeth over the meat--

You reach up, hesitantly, with the one arm that isn’t pinned by the great weight of her. Your fingers hover for a moment, unsure of what to do - is she like a cat? Does she prefer chin scratches or ear scratches?

You settle for a very light pet at the side of her mane, just by her face. Her fur is just as soft as you had thought she would be - a lady who is clearly incredibly spoilt. Well-cared for. You have another flash of a vision of Jing Yuan - combing her mane, tying a shiny ribbon about her neck to match the ribbon he wears in his own hair.

Mimi pauses in her enjoyment of the food. Your breath catches in your throat, all of your senses on a sudden high alert - what if she didn’t like being touched like that? What if she’s about to mistake your hand for a part of the buffet you’ve brought her?

A moment that seems like an hour passes.

And then she leans into your hand with a pleased rumble-squeak-growl, her eyes closing in pleasure, and despite how your heart is beating and your legs are aching from the way she’s twisted them and trapped them beneath her . . . you smile.

For the first week, every time you let yourself into Jing Yuan’s space, you are alone aside from the animals he keeps there. Mimi launches herself at you, but you’ve learnt to sidestep and laugh and ruffle her mane, offering her choice little tidbits to curl up and gnaw on her food whilst you see to the strays that congregate on Jing Yuan’s balcony. They had taken a little longer to warm to you, but after the second day when it became clear if they wanted the same food Jing Yuan usually prepared they would have to come to you, they had thawed considerably. You leave them to their devices, and finish off with the finches.

They hop from place to place in their cage, cheeping brightly. Sometimes they hop onto your finger or your shoulder, looking at you like you’re the most wonderful being in the universe. Once one had hopped onto your head and you’d stayed stock-still for five minutes, afraid of disturbing it.

After all of the pets and animals are fed, you’ve gotten into the habit of sitting with them for a little while. Curling around Mimi and stroking her mane and her tail (you’ve braided it, actually, and told her how pretty she looks with little red ribbons in her fur as she blinked at you her slow, lazy blinks). Listening to birdsong. Letting the strays rub about your feet and imagining the Arbiter-General himself doing all of these mundane tasks.

It’s strange, to think of him as so . . . so much a real person. General Jing Yuan has always seemed a man of mystery and just a touch of romance to you; a long life species who has outlived almost everyone he’s ever worked with, who has steered the Luofu into glories and battled bravely and heroically against Abundance abominations for longer than you’ve been alive. The first time you’d met him, when you’d gotten your place at the Seat of Divine Foresight (before you’d quite found out how meagre your duties really were), you’d been utterly tongue-tied.

He’d been charming, naturally. Smiling and charismatic and low and pleasant-voiced, saying how glad he was to have you aboard and how he hoped you would enjoy your time here. There’d been, perhaps, a flash of sadness in his eye at the knowledge you were a short-life species-- but you’d quickly tried to dispel that notion, scolding yourself for your own romanticism. Jing Yuan is your colleague, your boss - better to not harbour such idealism, to make him into a storybook character instead of a man.

Still. It’s rather hard to imagine him out of breath, puffing and wheezing, after pulling the bucket Mimi had gotten her paw stuck in off of the silly lion’s foreleg before she sent herself into a panic.

You think that the menagerie that he keeps in his private quarters have grown fond of you in turn. The task that everyone had seemed to find so onerous quickly becomes one of your favourite parts of the day; there is something to be said about the healing properties to the soul of having a lion roll over to show you her tummy and wiggle enticingly until you give in to her and give her all of the rubs and tickles that she so clearly desires.

So for about a week and a half, everything chugs along; you fall into routine, and the animals recognise you in turn. They sometimes still crane their necks and heads hopefully around you to see if Jing Yuan is around (Mimi especially occasionally looks dejected at his absence, though her ears perk up once again as soon as she remembers the buckets you come bearing are filled with delicious morsels for her), but when it is just you they still seem somewhat satisfied.

Nobody gives you any warning that Jing Yuan has returned to his own rooms.

Which is why you walk into the main room with your buckets swinging on your arms, singing a silly little song you’ve composed for Mimi about how the meat is soon to be ‘delicious and yummy’ in her ‘full-up-tummy’, you’re so surprised to hear a velvet soft chuckle floating from the big circular sofa in the centre of it that you almost drop all of those delicious-and-yummy steaks and thighs all over Jing Yuan’s ornately tiled floor.

You stare at the sofa, your cheeks going all-over hot, as a mass of blankets moves and shifts and a slightly ruffled pale head emerges from them.

The General himself.

It’s obvious, looking at him, that he hasn’t been feeling his best. His normally tied up hair falls over his face in unstyled sweeps, there are dark circles beneath his eyes and a sharpness to his cheekbones that you have never noticed before. Instead of the armour you have grown so used to seeing him clad in, he wears civilian clothes; a loose shirt that shows off the lines of his throat, his collarbone.

Despite all of that, though, he is still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Your heart still skips a beat. He takes you in for a moment, his face scrunched up as if he is not quite awake; and then, a small smile spreads over his handsome face.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he says, in that low, musical voice. “I’d like to know where the song has to go, after her tummy has been filled.”

“I’m so sorry,” you blurt out, awkward, nervous, unsure of what to say. “I-- nobody told me you’d be back, I can leave, I didn’t mean to--”

He holds up a lazy hand, the smile still on his face. His eyes are half-lidded, his overall look almost indulgent.

“Please,” he says. “I’m . . . better, but not fully recovered. I’ve been given strict instructions that I'm not to lift heavy objects or do anything more than relax for at least another week. I’d be much obliged - if it’s not too much trouble on top of your own duties, of course - if you could carry on seeing to my . . . what did they call it?” Another small, secret smile. “Ah yes. My little zoo.”

“I-if you’re sure . . .” You say, surprised to find when you say it aloud that you’re relieved. You truly have gotten attached to all of the animals, even in this short time.

Mimi butts your leg, impatient for her food, her huge paw petulantly tapping upon the floor. Jing Yuan laughs again, and you feel your stomach clench at the warm sound as it fills the room.

“Oh, she likes you,” he says, in delight. “I’ve never seen her be so patient with anyone but myself, you know.”

“She’s been friendly since I met her,” you reply, reaching down to scratch her behind her ears and to place the buckets somewhere she won’t make such a mess (though she’s actually a fairly fastidious eater, for someone with no thumbs; you suppose she’s so proud of her lovely white coat that she doesn’t want to risk staining it).

Jing Yuan hums in consideration, his smile not leaving his face, as he watches you pet Mimi and her affectionate head bump before she dives back into her food. As you move into the other sitting room - the one that the finches reside in - you hear more rustling, and as you gather the birdseed you’re surprised to see that Jing Yuan is following you, sloping afterwards determinedly. There’s a definite tilt to his walk - the walk of a man who’s been in bed for a week - and you can’t help but say something.

“Sh-should you be out of bed, General?” You wince at the slight admonishment in your tone, fearing he will think you’re scolding him - but Jing Yuan simply smiles.

“I need to check on my sweet little charges,” he says. “Come now. I’ve been in bed for days. Let me wander about my own rooms without worrying your pretty head too much about it, alright?”

It takes all of your grace not to turn into a pathetic, embarrassed mess at the easy way he says ‘your pretty head’ - somehow, you manage to keep your composure, keep some measure of poise, even as inside you feel yourself turn to mush.

He sits down upon a chaise by the birdcages as you reach in to fill the small bowls and scatter the feed, his eyes not leaving you for a second. He smiles when he sees a finch or two hop upon your hand to peck at the seeds and bits left in the crevices of your palm.

“A true animal whisperer,” he says, watching one of the more inquisitive finches hop up to your wrist and your forearm to tug teasingly at your elbow-length sleeves. “They’re not too fond of strangers, either.”

“I have been feeding them for a week, Sir,” you say to him, with a smile at the finch as you urge it off of your arm and back to the rest of its friends. “They’ve gotten used to me.”

He shakes his head, his hair falling about his shoulders, and you’re struck with the thought that he and Mimi even look similar. You’ve heard the old adage about how pet owners and their pets grow to look the same, of course, but you’d never realised quite how true it was until that moment and the sight of Jing Yuan doing a motion you’ve grown used to Mimi doing.

He follows, too, as you take food and water onto the balcony. As cats wind around first your ankles, and then his - as dogs wag their tails and lick at your hands.

“If I were a jealous man . . .” He says, laughing. “They must see something truly special in you.”

“Me?” You ask, aiming for a tinkly laugh but landing on ‘incredulous’. “No, they’re just sweet creatures. All of them are.”

He’s unerringly patient with the animals; his big hands tender as they scratch ears and tickle chins. Seeing the great General being so delicate makes your heart turn over in your chest; his big, scarred hands in direct opposition to the delicate bones and the soft fluff of all of the creatures that mass here.

“Don’t be so modest,” Jing Yuan says quietly in reply. “I’ve known some of these animals for years. If they didn’t think you were something special . . .”

Your cheeks are hot again. Somehow, in the course of this conversation, Jing Yuan has gotten closer and closer to you. Out here on the balcony, under the warm false sun of the Luofu, there’s nowhere for Jing Yuan to sit and watch - so he’s stood close to you. Close enough that you can see the warm gold amber of his gaze, the fan of his lashes, the mole high up beneath his eye. You swallow, and the sound is almost indecently loud even with the background mewls and barks and purrs.

“I’m glad that they found someone so able to do this for me,” he says, his voice still quiet. That single word, those single two syllables, somehow manage to be imbued with more meaning than you’d ever imagined they could be. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you.”

“Just until you’re feeling a bit better,” you reply, cheeks still hot, throat still sore, heart still beating far too fast in your chest. You wonder what Jing Yuan is thinking as he looks down at you - if he has noticed your anxiety, the way that he seems to set you all aflutter. You hope he thinks it is merely because he is your superior, and not because it’s so very hard not to dwell on his looks and his warm voice and the surprisingly different persona that he shows when he’s doing this--

Jing Yuan is still smiling at you, from back on the sofa covered in his blankets with Mimi spread out protectively over his feet, as you foolishly wave goodbye and leave his chambers.

You get to witness Jing Yuan’s recovery firsthand. The first few days, he is still unsure of his own limbs; he still slowly lopes around the rooms. Once or twice, you come in to feed the animals and he stays wrapped within his blankets, Mimi only leaving his side to demand some cuddles and some meat from you.

Despite his illness, though, he always has time to talk to you. He always asks you how you are feeling, what you have been doing; he teases you for how the animals seem to recognise you just as well as him now. When one of the finches pecks at your cheek, he chuckles and says;

“Ah, wouldn’t we all like to give our little bird a kiss like that?”

You don’t know how to respond to that, ducking your head, muttering something unintelligible that wins another of his laughs. His words err on the edge of being flirtatious. Once or twice he compliments your outfit, your hair - how lovely you look today. You never know how to react to such things; you force yourself not to dwell on them, reminding yourself of Jing Yuan’s own looks and his position and trying to tell yourself not to get attached and that the General is merely trying to be polite.

One afternoon, he asks you to sit with him and have tea.

It would be rude of you to say no; not when he has placed two teacups before him, anticipating your acceptance, a plate of sweet treats in an amount that would be gluttonous even for him arranged with the tea service. So you try and gracefully position yourself across from him. You try and remember your manners as you take the cup by the handle, as you choose the least ornamented and sugary of the delicacies on offer--

(It’s hard not to remember being told not to indulge at all. You feel conscious of eating in front of him--)

“Have this one,” Jing Yuan says, as if he can read your mind, and he pushes towards you an intricately decorated little cake resplendent with sugar roses and ruffles. “It’s one of my favourites.”

Your mouth waters. You give him an embarrassed smile as he encourages you further, reaching over to pick it up himself and place it upon your plate instead of merely pushing it.

“Really?” You ask, trying to pick it up neatly. “It’s a bit more delicate than I thought you’d like. I suppose I imagined you liking things a little rougher--”

Your face goes hot as you realise what you just said, but Jing Yuan ignores the innuendo and simply smiles at you.

“Ah,” he says. “I like things that are . . . delicate. Smaller than me. So lovely to observe and enjoy, don’t you think?” His gaze doesn’t leave your face. You have never considered yourself delicate - the curves that you display have put an end to that - but under his eyes, you can’t help but think of the breadth of his shoulders and his height and think how a man like him could make even you feel small and breakable. “What do you think?”

The little cake is sweet on the tongue, flavoured with a hint of something you can’t quite name. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“It’s wonderful,” you tell him, swallowing the bite and enjoying how the taste lingers. “Truly.”

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it,” he says - and then, he reaches over the table. “You have something--”

You go stock-still, embarrassed and shocked at the intimacy of the gesture, as he uses his thumb to wipe a smudge of icing from the corner of your mouth. He keeps your gaze the whole time. It is something a lover does - it is not something you’d ever expected General Jing Yuan to do for you--

“There,” he says, returning to his cake as if nothing has happened. “It would be a terrible shame if I couldn’t see all of your lovely face, after all.”

He is always saying things like this; off-the-cuff remarks that, if he were not the General of the Xianzhou Luofu, you would interpret as being flirty. He mentions them when you have tea together, when he ropes you into playing a game of star chess (“Don’t think I will go easy on you because you are nice to look at,” he says, as he places the counters into their starting positions), when he watches you and Mimi and you and the finches and tells you that he cannot decide which is cuter.

You see him get gradually stronger and stronger. No more limping. He is almost always dressed, now. His hair no longer falls in shaggy waves about his face. His dark circles dissipate, his voice getting somehow even deeper and more velvety.

The unspoken reality that soon, Jing Yuan will be well and you will no longer have to take on this extra duty hangs over your head.

You find that the idea makes you feel sick. You are not only enjoying caring for the animals, now, but you’ve also started to look forward to seeing the General.

Well.

That’s not quite it.

You have to be honest with yourself, don’t you?

You’ve developed a crush on him.

You can’t imagine not seeing him. Not being greeted with Mimi’s butts and her batting paws; not hearing the pleased chirps of his finches whenever they see you. Not enjoying tea with him any more, simply existing in this lazy golden time when you do not have to think about work or his position above you or anything other than the four walls that surround you and the multiple hearts beating within it.

Jing Yuan brings it up first.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says, coughing one day after the two of you have played a game of star chess that you were thoroughly destroyed during. “Well. I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m getting better.”

“I’m glad to see it, Sir,” you say, forcing a smile to your face even as your heart falls into the region of your feet. “We were all very worried about you. Everyone is always asking me how you are and when you’ll be returning to work--”

His face clouds, a flinch so quick you almost miss it.

“Yes,” he says, a mournful tone to his voice. “I’ll soon be returning to work.”

You tell yourself sternly not to cry. This was never supposed to be permanent.

“Then I suppose you won’t need me any longer,” you say, forcing a smile on your face. You are going to be gracious if it kills you.

“Ah,” Jing Yuan replies. “That’s what I’d like to talk to you about. I . . . we are all very fond of you, you see.” He motions to Mimi, who has come to curl beside you, her head laid against your knee. “I fear Mimi will riot if you were to stop bringing her all of those steaks, you understand. And who knows what she’d do, deprived of your song about her tummy?”

You squeak in embarrassment. Mimi lifts her head and gives you a slow, displeased look, much to Jing Yuan’s amusement.

“Well. I’m very aware that it’s not part of your duties, and I’d be willing of course to pay you more for all of the trouble, but--”

You see Jing Yuan falter for one of the first times; as if he is afraid that you are about to reject him outright. He coughs, trying to hide his anxiety, but it is an emotion you’re intimately familiar with and as such you recognise it for what it is.

“We’re all so very fond of you,” he repeats. “Won’t you keep coming?”

You barely leave a breath before you’re happily agreeing.

It’s not quite the same.

You knew it wouldn’t be; you knew that you wouldn’t see Jing Yuan anywhere near as often, as he resumed all of the many duties that the Arbiter-General has to take on. Despite how unenthused he had seemed to be returning to his work, you knew that Jing Yuan took his responsibilities terribly seriously).

Still.

You had thought you might see him more. Might still be able to drink a cup of tea with him, even if it could not be the same kind of slow, languid time the two of you had taken over it before. You’d thought that there’d still be time for a conversation or two.

The reality is that you almost never see the General now.

At work, your paths had crossed only rarely; now, hyper-aware of his presence, you realise that you see him almost never. Not at work, and not at his own home.

You’re still excited to see the animals - for the finches to happily chirp at you as if they’re telling you about their day. One of them rides about on your shoulder, now, even when you go out to feed the strays. You’re still excited to tell Mimi what a good girl she is and rub her tummy and play with her (she’s inordinately fond of ribbons and the chasing thereof, like an overgrown housecat).

But without Jing Yuan there . . .

There’s something missing.

You still do your duties as well as you can - Jing Yuan has negotiated a hefty raise for you, all things considered - but you can’t help sometimes leaving his home feeling a little empty at the lack of seeing the General. You can’t help being disconsolate as you think about him - as you remember his flirty little asides, the way he’d looked at you across the room, the smile that played across his mouth whenever he did. You know he couldn’t really be interested in you, that he was probably like that with most people - but a secret little flame cannot help but burn in your heart even so.

Days pass, quiet, lonely. You work, and feed the animals, and go home to your own empty quarters. You work, feed, go home, work, feed, go home--

Until one evening, when you’re just about to leave Jing Yuan’s chambers, when the door opens and the General appears. He looks a little red in the face; his breath comes in short little pants. You’ve never seen him so obviously flustered; usually, Jing Yuan fits perfectly up to his reputation as the Drowsy General.

“Are you alright?” You ask him, rushing over. You’re touching him before you’ve thought through consequences; finger hovering over his pulse point, reaching up to feel his forehead to make sure he’s not running a temperature. Through the panting, he looks at you and smiles.

“I’m afraid,” he says, still breathing heavily, his voice rasping. “I made up a little lie to be able to get back here on an errand that doesn’t really exist.”

“General,” you scold him. It’s not like him to shirk responsibilities. He laughs.

“Yes, yes, I know, little thing-- but I had to see you. I wanted to see you again.”

You think he’s misspoken.

“I have to get back,” he says, and he reaches down - his hands upon your cheek again. You don’t know how to reply, what to say, what is going on. All you know is that you are there, and Jing Yuan is there, and something is happening. Fizzing on the air is a promise that something is going to change. “But . . . I couldn’t-- I needed to finally--”

Jing Yuan kisses you.

It’s a kiss as messy and rushed as he is right now. A kiss that says that he has to hurry back, despite how much he doesn’t want to. You, unused to being kissed and even more unused to being kissed by handsome military leaders who feel a hundred times out of your league, do not kiss him back. He’s messy and wet, and his teeth clash against your lips as you stand there, feeling foolish and wrong-footed.

He realises you’re not kissing him back, and he stops - he draws back, his eyebrows furrowed. He opens his mouth to speak.

He’s going to say it was a mistake, you realise. He’s going to say he thought you were someone else, that he was carried away in the heat of the moment. You and Jing Yuan? No. It couldn’t be. It’s absurd, it’s silly, nobody could ever believe it - and yet.

And yet.

Your heart couldn’t take his rejection.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out - and you push past him and out of the door and back towards the comforting ordinary normality of your own empty rooms.

Despite your embarrassment, fear and all of those other emotions keeping you up all night, when you wake up the next morning you know that things will be worse the more you put them off. So you get dressed for work and you thank Lan that, when you walk into the Seat of Divine Foresight, Jing Yuan is nowhere to be seen.

You hope he is hard at work, far away from you. You cannot quite face him yet. You haven’t properly said goodbye to your foolish dreams.

You can’t shirk your other duties either, so at the ordinary time you stand up from your desk (you’ve somehow been saddled with the job of reviewing paperwork for grammar inconsistencies. You feel certain there ought to be software of some sort that does this job for you, but it had been laid here on your desk when you’d gotten to it and you were not in the habit of arguing about your duties), and you head to the designated supplier of raw meats for Mimi’s consumption.

“Oh,” says the supplier, the evening after Jing Yuan had finagled a way to see you. “He told me to let you know to go straight up today.”

You frown, not quite sure why; you hope Mimi is alright. It feels strange to be going towards Jing Yuan’s home without your arms weighed down with buckets of meat, but you push forward even so. You hope last night - the awkward kiss, the way he had looked at you - does not sour things between the two of you. You hope that he isn’t about to tell you to never come back. Your heart makes a new home, somewhere in the vicinity of your throat, as you hesitantly knock upon his door.

A beat passes. Your mind helpfully provides you with all of the ways in which Jing Yuan could be about to fire you - or worse, let you down gently and admit that he had a moment of weakness. In that moment, you suddenly seem so much more aware than before of yourself - of the unfashionable curves, of the amount of space you take up, of how a man like Jing Yuan could surely not have really wanted to kiss someone like you - and then, he has opened the door and he is smiling at you and he doesn’t look angry.

Instead, upon seeing you there, a smile passes across his face; tugs at the corners of his lips, crinkles the corners of his eyes.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” he says to you - and he reaches across the threshold and his hand brushes your cheek, as soft and tender with you as he is with his finches. “I’m sorry if I frightened you last night.”

“I’m sorry I ran,” tumbles out of your mouth. “I just . . . I didn’t think you-- and somebody like me-- and I was afraid--”

He lays a finger over your lips, still smiling.

“It’s alright,” he says, in that low, smooth voice. “I’m sorry if I caused you undue trouble, little bird.” The pet name falls from his lips as easily as any other trifle, though it makes you feel hot and aware of yourself and flattered all at once. “Please come in.”

He takes your hand to gently urge you across the threshold, his touch still feather light. You think, as he does it, of all of the other things those hands have done; all of the battles they have waged, all of the strength that must be contained within them despite how gentle his touch is now.

“I’ve asked someone else to take care of the animals,” he says to you, not letting go of your hand as he leads you through the front room. You realise with a start exactly where he is taking you as he approaches a door you have never had reason to open before. He looks at you, eyes keen and golden. “I wanted us to be alone. I would hope, little bird, if you do not want this . . .”

“I do,” tumbles from your mouth. It is nothing but the honest truth. You let the crush that you’ve been trying to deny, the fear of Jing Yuan not liking you or finding you attractive, the anxieties of not being good enough, all wash over you, in favour of the beating of your heart and the feel of his hand on your face and the sight of his hand upon the doorknob of his bedroom.

He turns fully so he stands before you. Hands come up, cradling your face; thumbs brushing the plump apples of your cheek, fingertips upon the soft flesh. He is smiling still, even as he dips his head lower, so low you can see the multitudes of swirling shades of gold in his eyes.

“Promise me,” he murmurs, low and soft. “Tell me you want me the way I want you. No expectations, little one. Your career, your position, your everything - nothing will change if you do not want me as badly as I desire you. Honesty.” You realise a tear has escaped from the corner of your eye. You have never felt so . . . seen. So very much wanted. So sure of anything in your life. He wipes that tear with his thumb, tilting your face closer to him so that if you just angled your head differently you could kiss him. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” you whisper, and Jing Yuan’s lips meet yours.

This kiss is entirely unlike the one from yesterday; this kiss is slow, luxurious. Jing Yuan starts off gentle with you, his hand still cupping your jaw - his lips moving against yours in slow, indolent waves. He nips at your bottom lip with his teeth and wins a gasp from you, a hitch of your breath, as your own hands come up to rest lightly upon his chest. You feel his mouth curve into a smile against your own.

“You’re adorable,” he rumbles, pulling back just enough that you can still feel his breath on your face. “Truly - you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you.”

“I--” You helplessly stare up at him. You can barely believe this is happening, as he pushes open the door to his most private of domains. “Really?”

He laughs again, gently taking your arm and urging you into the room. You are helpless to do anything but follow him - to let him slowly, slowly, slowly pull you beside him and onto his bed.

“You really have no idea how . . . desirable you are?” He asks, voice low and husky, humming with want. His hand skims over your cheek, the nape of your neck, following the line of your jaw and your throat to linger over your collarbone. His eyes follow the path his fingers take, not moving from your form for an instant. “You really didn’t notice me staring at you, little bird?” He leans in, close enough for his breath to tickle your ear. His lips brush over the pulse point in your neck, making you squeak in surprise again even as it sends a bolt of heat to the space between your legs. “Imagining what you would feel like under my hands? Imagining what you would look like, divested of that maddeningly conservative uniform they make you wear?” Another kiss, this one with a hint of teeth. You realise with a hot flush of embarrassment mixed with want you have cried out at the sensation of the almost-bite. “Imagining how you would react to every touch I gave you?”

“Sir,” you pant, dazed and amazed and hot and needy. “I-- I thought about you, too--”

“Oh,” he murmurs, as his big fingers slide over your body, feeling the ample shape of you through that same conservative uniform. His big palms brush the soft chub of your upper arms, the meat of your chest, the shape of your waist and over the curve of your hips, basely appreciating your body even beneath the fabric. “I’m sure they were no match for the utterly filthy things I imagined doing to you.”

His thumb digs into the indent of your waist, tugging you closer to him so that you’re pressed tighter against his body. He smiles down at you, every inch the conquering general, and your heart beats in time with the pounding between your legs. He looks at you like he wants to devour you. Wanting and hungry and lustful, like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever seen. It’s not a look you’re overly familiar with receiving - but oh, does it feel amazing to be on the receiving end of it from Jing Yuan.

“Such a fragile thing,” he murmurs down to you, and you almost laugh, for you do not feel fragile - but Jing Yuan continues speaking, and you get lost in the dulcet tone of his voice. “So very mortal. So very ephemeral . . .” He sighs, dips his head and kisses you again, a flurry of pecks upon your lips as his thumb draws circles where it rests. “Will you let me make the most of having you, little bird? Let me show you how beautiful you are?” He smiles. “I have always had a weakness for delicate things.”

He means it.

Any time you have ever felt too big; ungainly, or ill-shaped - all of it falls to the wayside under the warm haze of being looked at and admired and wanted by Jing Yuan. You find yourself smiling up at him, aware you probably look as though there is not a thought in your head, but the General doesn’t seem to mind as he looks at you with hunger colouring his gaze.

“May I undress you?” He asks, voice low and cajoling. His fingers tease beneath the neckline of your uniform, and it feels as though they leave a trail of fire everywhere they linger. You do not trust yourself to speak; you nod at him, your breath coming out in short little pants. He makes a soft noise of approval, before his fingers are working at buttons and fabric. Cool air hits your bare skin; your uniform is gently cajoled off of your body, tossed aside to be worried about later as Jing Yuan’s hungry eyes drink in every new inch of your exposed skin.

He does not stop praising you as he does it.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, as your top half is bared, as his eyes roam over your chest and his hands come up and squeeze the generous curve of them, palms rough against delicate skin. You shiver as his thumbs find your nipples, as they rub over them again and again until the buds stiffen beneath his touch and a soft whine escapes the back of your throat. “You’re beautiful.”

His tone is nothing if not worshipful. By slow, luxurious degrees, Jing Yuan helps divest you of your garments. As your underwear and bottoms are rolled down, as fabric bunches at thighs and knees, he does not stop murmuring sweet nothings about how soft you are, how beautiful, how lucky he is to be able to see you like this.

About how he has been thinking about having you like this since the moment he saw you.

“You looked so beautiful then too,” he murmurs, as your underwear is pulled from your ankles. He briefly gazes at it, the gusset saturated with your slick, and he smiles. “Ah . . . that little song, the nervous, shy reaction to realising I was there - the sight of you all soft-eyed and adoring with Mimi . . . I’ve never wanted to have my wicked way with somebody quite so much.”

You’re bare beneath him, Jing Yuan slowly urging you to lay down upon the coverlets of his large bed. You suppose that it’s so large so that if Mimi desires to sleep with him, she can, but it alongside Jing Yuan’s own size simply helps you feel small and delicate and breakable in a way you never have before.

“I wanted to know,” Jing Yuan murmurs, leaning down and brushing his lips over yours, teasing and feather-light. “If you would be quite so adorable, squirming and nervous and vulnerable, if I were to have you like this.”

Your cheeks are hot. Jing Yuan has not lost a single garment of his own, but you are entirely unguarded to whatever he wants to do to you now - bare of every scrap of fabric. His gaze lingering on your body almost makes you want to draw in; to curl around the exposed flesh of your stomach, to cover the pudge.

Jing Yuan notices something in the way you hold yourself. He smiles down at you and cups your cheek.

“Don’t hide,” he breathes. “I want to see all of you, little thing. I want you to know how beautiful I find you.”

“I--”

He takes your hand in his, shifting so he is on his knees between your legs. Gently, he guides your unsure hand to the space over his own crotch. Even through the layers of fabric, you can sense the heat of him; the stiffness pushing against his trousers.

“If I did not want you,” he says, “why would you make me so needy, hmm? Feel what you do to me.” He presses your hand a little harder against it, a soft hiss of breath escaping him, encouraging you to not simply take his word for it. Your face hot as ever, you do so; give a gentle squeeze that makes him groan. “Ah-- be careful, sweet thing. I want to take my time over you.”

He lets go of your hand, gently urging you to place it back beside you. Your fingers find purchase in his sheets. You still cannot quite believe where you are; that it’s the great Arbiter-General leaning over you, looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing that he’s ever seen.

“I-it’s not fair,” you say to him, your voice dry. “I’ve lost all of my clothes, and you’re still fully dressed--”

He chuckles. This time, when he bends down, there’s a slow, deliberate quality about him. He kisses your neck again; trails wet butterfly kisses over your collarbones, lower and lower to the swell of your chest. His hands come to cup the generous weight of them, even as his mouth floats closer and closer to your nipples, tightening and stiffening in anticipation.

“I told you,” he says, murmuring in between flicks of his tongue against the buds. “I want to take my time over you.” He looks at you, eyes half-lidded. “Ah, you short-life species . . . You never learn patience. I have all of the time in the world to give you ecstasy over and over--”

People call Jing Yuan the Dozing General. As he applies his tongue to your nipples, though - as he suckles and nips and bites, as he kisses and squeezes until you feel dizzy with the attention he’s lavishing upon you, you realise that they are misinformed. Jing Yuan is not lazy or dozing - Jing Yuan merely likes to take his time over things.

And oh, is he enjoying taking his time over you.

You whine under his touch. You whimper and squirm, your cheeks flooding hot, your entire body prickling with tension and pleasure as his attentions upon your nipples send shockwaves of pleasure down to your sex. You feel wetness fair seeping out of you; slick rolling down your thighs, making a mess of Jing Yuan’s bed sheets.

“Please,” you manage to get out, dry-voiced and wanting, after what seems like an eternity. “Please, Sir--”

“Jing Yuan,” He corrects you, a smile on his face as he continues to trail wet kisses over your bare skin. “What kind of man would I be if I allowed you to call me ‘Sir’ buried knuckle-deep in you, sweet thing? We are on even ground here.”

It’s hard not to think of him as the General. You are currently barely able to string a thought together, and he hasn’t even touched the place between your thighs yet. Still - you need him to touch you somewhere else. You need his attentions to give your chest a break (your nipples are sore, stiffened points - your skin slick with the wetness of his licks and kisses) and move to somewhere else. You force out, through your desire to genuflect to his status, his given name.

“Jing Yuan--”

“Hmm?” He asks, raising his head. His lips are swollen and pink, his eyes amused. “Do you need something, little bird?”

“Please . . .” A soft exhale, trying to work through the mass of sensations and needs that your body seems to have become. Jing Yuan does not stop touching even as you try and get out your words; still gently squeezing and toying with the weight of your chests. He’s smiling, enjoying watching you desperately work through the haze of your desire.

“Your words,” he says, a maddening smile pulling at his lips. “Tell me what you want, and I promise I’ll do all in my power to give you it.”

“Please,” you say again, your brain fuzzy. His hands move from your chest now; big palms travelling over the curve of your stomach, your hips, resting there in a way that makes you almost lose all of your senses. “I want you to touch me . . . there--”

“Where, little thing?” He’s still smiling. “Here?” A gentle squeeze to your hips. “Here?” His palm roves over your stomach, the soft pouch just above your mound. You whimper again. “Ah. Come now--”

“Between my legs,” you whisper, voice tight and breaking with desire. “Jing Yuan, please--”

“Ah,” he laughs, dips down and kisses you once on the mouth. “You need only to ask. Spread your thighs for me, lovely thing.”

You do, utterly helplessly. Jing Yuan sighs reverently, moving further down so that he can bend his head to look at you. Your face burns under his scrutiny, fearful that he will find something lacking in your body even as his eyes greedily drink you in like you are the finest wine. He breathes deeply, and you hope that your scent is not off-putting - and then, his fingers are sliding slowly and surely up the soft plush of your legs and closer and closer to the space between your thighs and your heart is beating too fast and your breath is coming in short pants.

“Calm down,” he murmurs, and you keen as his hands reach your sex; as he uses his thumbs to spread the plump lips of your labia apart and the cool air hits your slick, heated core. “Ah, darling . . .”

There is so much in those two syllables. Hunger and desire and adoration, all mixed together as one. In another world, with another person, it might have made you feel self-conscious; but Jing Yuan looks down at you as if you are the most beautiful treasure he has ever had the good fortune to witness.

He leans down, down - and you squeak as you realise what he’s about to do, surprised, but it does not deter him at all as he lets his tongue take a slow, luxurious lick down your sex. The base of his tongue presses against your clit, the pressure on the swollen hitherto ignored nub almost enough to make you come right there and then - but then he pulls back again, chuckling.

“Mm,” he says. “If I allow myself to sample too much of something so sweet, I’m afraid I’ll lose my composure.” He moves his hand instead; lets his fingers explore the length of you, fingertips brushing against your clenching entrance and dancing about your swollen clit. There is little pressure exerted on your sex; merely Jing Yuan’s slow, considering explorations. You clench your own fingers into the bedsheets in order to stop yourself writhing.

“Lovely,” Jing Yuan says to himself. “Ah, you feel like velvet. Such a pretty thing; so perfectly made . . .” He sighs, even as the tip of his longest finger nudges against your entrance. Your hips move of their own accord, trying to suck him in and get him to put his finger inside of you, but he clicks his tongue with an amused chide; “Impatient,” he says. “Ah. You’re lucky you’re so irresistible--”

He slides his finger inside of you, slowly but certainly. You sigh, your lashes fluttering closed - his touch stokes all of those fires inside of you, of course, burning to fever pitch . . . but the sensation of finally having something inside of you has also made you realise how empty you felt before. It feels good, to have something to fill that pulsing space. Jing Yuan watches with rapt attention as he slides his finger half out, and then half inside of you again.

You have had some experience, but you have never felt the way Jing Yuan makes you feel.

“You take it so well,” he murmurs. “Look how pretty you look with something inside of you. Ah. I could spend hours doing this to you . . .”

You make a soft whine of discontent at the idea and he laughs, clicking his tongue even as he’s letting his second finger dance at your entrance ready to join the first.

“No, even I do not have the patience for that right now,” he agrees. “Not when you feel so wonderful, little bird. Not when I cannot wait to see you come apart.”

The second finger; a slight scissoring motion as it enters you, getting you used to the size and stretch of two of his digits instead of one. The heel of his palm presses against your clit with every wet pump, sending frissons of pleasure to the tips of your toes; but he still does not rush himself. He still lets himself enjoy the feel of you clinging tightly to his fingers, the sight of them disappearing inside of your slick, drooling hole.

“Does that feel good?” He asks you, deciding you haven’t spoken recently enough. “Tell me if you want me to go faster, sweet thing--”

“Please,” you say, ragged, breathing heavy. You can feel a tight hot ball of tension between your legs, rolling in your gut, threatening to overwhelm you. “Please, Jing Yuan, faster--”

“Very well,” he smiles, and he crooks his fingers inside of you to find your g-spot - causing your back to arch involuntarily, a whine of pure enjoyment to loose itself from your throat. At the same time, his thumb moves to play with your clit - to toy with the bud, to roll and to circle and to press against the swollen bundle of nerves. What already felt like electric shocks of pleasure move on; instead, they are lightning bolts, ricocheting up your spine and stopping just short of striking earth.

“You’re close,” Jing Yuan says, and you are staring at his mouth. How a strand of your own gossamer-thin arousal is still glimmering at the corner. How his eyes are so focused on you that his gaze feels almost scorching. “That’s right. Let go for me, sweet thing--”

His soft entreaty pushes you over the edge, and the lightning strikes home as your peak hits you with all of the force of a storm.

His fingers work you over the crest of your orgasm, the two inside of you constantly rubbing against that spongy spot that makes you see stars, the big pad of his thumb roughly sliding over your twitching clit in circles and lines. As the waves come to a head and then slowly begin to dissipate, he slows his attentions too - until the slow strokes of his fingers fade out into nothing. He does not seem to care that you’ve soaked his fingers and his palm and the fabric he wears and his bed too - merely keeps looking at you, smiling, like you’re giving him the most precious gift imaginable.

“Good,” he praises you. “But . . . I’m afraid that just that taste from earlier wasn’t quite enough, little bird. May I use my mouth on you?”

Who would ever believe this? Who would ever imagine little old you, on the Arbiter-General’s bed, as he looks at you and waits for your permission to fuck you with his tongue? You feel rather tongue-tied yourself - but you recall what Jing Yuan said earlier, about using your words.

“Please do,” you say, aloud, and Jing Yuan gives you that same smile that makes you feel like the only being in the whole universe.

“Thank you,” he says, sounding entirely like he means it - like it’s truly an honour for him to be able to serve you on his hands and knees. And then he has moved his body further down the bed, elegant and graceful and leonine, and his mouth is heading towards the slick-soaked place between your legs and his tongue is glinting wet in the bedroom and then he is on you, licking at you, hungrily devouring your sex like it is his last meal before an execution.

You’re still oversensitive from his earlier attentions, and the sensation of the wet muscle of his tongue working over you almost pushed you into another early orgasm. Your fingers move from where they’re still clenched into the bedsheets to cling to his hair instead, pulling on the silvery pale strands as your back arches and you blindly cant your hips forward towards his mouth.

He groans aloud at having his hair pulled, and the groan sends vibrations all through your body that make you feel weak at the knees, your toes curling. His tongue continues its assault; back and forth, back and forth. Wetness drools from your sex and onto his face; you can feel the heat in his cheeks, the fan of his lashes against your bare skin.

He twirls his tongue about your entrance, teasingly dips into it, as the channel of your sex constricts and pulses in an attempt to pull him even further in. He groans as your hands knit further into his hair, fucking you for a moment with his tongue before he seems to try and work his face further into your sex.

It’s like he wants to engulf you; soft noises of pleasure keep falling from his mouth, interspersed with rumbling groans. He’s almost gyrating against the bed, you realise, your cheeks hot - grinding his crotch into the mattress as if he’s desperate to have some attention of his own.

That sight makes your mouth go dry; all of the moisture in your body instead congregating between your legs to make a new home in Jing Yuan’s mouth and smeared across his cheeks.

His tongue flicks across your clit and the noise that escapes you is almost animal; Jing Yuan says something, perhaps, or at least makes some kind of muffled noise from his position happily buried in your sex before he shifts his tongue just so and his mouth fastens around your clit fully.

Sucking and licking, suckling upon the pearl like his life depends upon it; tongue occasionally just brushing under the hood, where you’re most engorged, and you can do nothing but cling onto his hair and pull at it as the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt rips through your body.

You cannot put into words the way that you feel as Jing Yuan devours you. Your entire body feels, suddenly, as if it weighs nothing; as if sparkling lights suffuse your fingers and toes and you float into the stratosphere, white lights dancing behind your eyes in time with your whine (a whine so loud you’re sure everybody on the Luofu must have heard of it).

You come down, eventually, to the sound of Jing Yuan panting. The wet noise as his mouth separates from you, the pleased grin on his face as he uses his thumb to wipe his mouth of some of your slick. It’s a pointless endeavour, really; his face is so saturated with it you’re not sure if he’ll ever be dry again.

“Darling,” Jing Yuan repeats, looking you in the eye, smiling like the cat who has gotten the cream. “You have no idea how much I enjoyed doing that.”

The words almost make you go over shy - but you push that to the side. There is no point, you decide, being nervous of a man who has now known you so intimately.

“In which case,” you say, breathlessly - your voice is still a little scratchy from the moaning and whimpering you’ve been doing - “Will you let me make you feel just as good?”

He looks at you for a moment, before he throws his head back and laughs.

“Why,” he says. “Of course I will.”

“Come,” Jing Yuan is murmuring, and he is finally removing his own clothes. Armour drops to the side of him, shirts unbuttoned and fastenings unhooked. His body is muscular and dotted with scars, befitting his status as a military hero; a light dusting of pale hair upon his proud chest, down into a trail to the vee of his hips. You swallow, your throat dry, trying to blink back the waves of pleasure that are still lapping gently at your shores in order to concentrate on what’s going on. His face is still wet with your slick, his hair damp with sweat and falling in messy strands over his flushed face. He looks well-fucked even without you touching him back, as if merely getting you to feel good was enough for him.

His cock. It’s stiff against the hard planes of his abdomen, a thick, pretty specimen bubbling with precome at the flushed tip. He sighs, running his hand over it once, and your mouth practically waters at the way it twitches. It looks stiff and hard enough that you wonder if it hurts, to want so badly - but Jing Yuan looks at you and smiles, as he rearranges himself on the bed. Pillows are moved, and before you know it he has sat against them, propping himself up like an emperor upon his throne. His cock stands proud and wanting, and he gently pats his thigh as if he is calling an obedient animal to him.

“I don’t wish to hurt you, little bird,” he says - and again, you think of how it feels to be smaller than him. How he does not care about the flesh that spills from straps or curves over fabric. How he looks at you like the most beautiful thing in the world and calls you ‘delicate’ and ‘little’ and ‘precious’ and means them. “Come. Take a seat. As slowly as you need.”

Despite how he has seen you so intimately, you cannot help but feel a little flare of fear as you approach him. He smiles, entirely at peace and at comfort with you going at your own pace, and you could kiss him for it.

“Touch,” he murmurs. “Don’t be afraid.”

With trembling fingers, you reach out; let your hand encircle his cock, get used to the width and the feel of him and imagine it inside of you. He pulses beneath your palm, a soft hum of pleasure falling from the back of his throat as you give it a cursory pump. He curses softly as your thumb rubs across the slit of his cockhead, the bubble of precome wetting the pad.

“Touch,” he says, with a smile. “But don’t get me too excited, little bird. I don’t want to come anywhere but inside of you.”

Your cheeks go hot at his easy profession; your tongue darts out to trace your lower lip. You’re used to the feel of him now; the heat that seems to stir beneath the surface of his cock, the veins that marble the side of his shaft, the ruddy pink of the head. Taking a deep breath, you spread your legs and let yourself readjust, straddling him. His own hands come up to cling to your thighs, sinking into the soft flesh there.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs, as if in devotion, as if praying to an Aeon. “You’re beautiful.”

His cockhead brushes your clit as you fit it snugly between the lips of your sex; you shift your hips, until it catches against your entrance and your eyes flutter closed.

Your eyes are still closed as you begin to lower yourself down, so you feel every inch of him as he makes his home within your body. Your eyes being closed, of course, you miss the softness and the warmth that fills Jing Yuan’s gaze as he looks at you. The brief moment of sadness that passes behind his eyes as he remembers that you are a short-life species; that he cannot have all of the time in the world with you, to teach you pleasures the likes of which you do not yet know. The sadness he cannot spend his lifetime learning you by heart--

But you hear the soft murmur of your name, as he bottoms out inside of you and you take a moment to simply rest there with him buried as deep inside of you as he can go. You feel the way one of his hands slides up your spine to grip the back of your head and to pull you into a kiss as deep and adoring as anything else he’s done so far.

Teeth and tongue and lips, whimpering and gasping into one another’s mouths until you do not know where he ends and where you begin, Jing Yuan somehow manages to murmur;

“Move whenever you want, sweet thing. Set the pace.”

It does not, in the end, feel like either of those things happen. Instead, it feels as though the universe sets the pace for you; as if you simply know when to begin to move your hips, how to bend and angle yourself just so in order for Jing Yuan to hit all of the most sensitive spots inside of you.

One hand remains on your hip, helping you with the pace - the other remains on the back of your head, to allow him to kiss, as if he doesn’t want to let his mouth separate from yours for any longer than necessary. It’s a romance that you didn’t expect of the General, but it’s hardly one you’re going to complain about when his mouth feels so good and the constant nibbling of your lip and curl of his tongue against yours is distracting you from the mounting pleasure already starting to coalesce inside of you.

There is nothing in the world for a while except Jing Yuan’s body underneath yours. His hands, his mouth, the feel of his shoulders beneath your own palms where you cling to him for leverage. You sweat and breathe and kiss and fuck as one, until the call inside of you becomes too much to ignore.

“I’m--” You pull back from the kiss to whisper, voice hoarse. “I’m going to--”

“Shh,” Jing Yuan says, kissing again. His own voice climbs in pitch, and you hear a shiver and a shudder in his syllables that makes you aware that he, too, is not far from his own release. His teeth nip at your lower lip as he half-begs into your mouth. “Please. Come again for me, sweet thing, little bird, pretty-- let me feel you--”

Your third orgasm crashes over you, your sex spasming around his cock, tight and hot and pulsing - and Jing Yuan groans into your mouth as you push him over the edge too, and you feel his cock spasm in turn. Ropes of hot release shoot inside of you; you had thought, earlier, that having his cock buried all the way inside of you was the extent of how full you could feel.

You were wrong.

You bite at his lips, whining and half-sobbing, as the please encompasses you like a cloak of warmth. Jing Yuan groans in return, his hips making needy fast circles to chase the dregs of his own release. It feels right, for the two of you to peak together like this. For the two of you to chase every last drop of pleasure, entwined together and sweating and kissing and as close to one being as it’s possible to be.

Eventually, your breathing slows. Eventually, the kiss turns tender instead of frenzied. Eventually, you pull back from Jing Yuan with a foolish smile on your face and your cheeks hot and tears of pleasure (that you hadn’t even realised you had cried) rolling down your face like sparkling diamonds.

You stare at each other, the enormity of what has happened washing over you. Jing Yuan’s face is calm and serene, but his eyes are bright still, his cheeks still high in colour.

You fear for a moment that he is about to dismiss you; that what the two of you just shared will mean nothing now that it is over. You fear that you’re about to go back to what you were before; a colleague and an employer, a General and a subordinate. But then, Jing Yuan lets out a deep rumbling sigh, pleased, as he collapses back upon the pillows. He opens his arms for you to dismount, his cock sliding slippery and wet outside of you, his come trickling down your thighs.

“Come here,” he murmurs, sounding tired but terribly pleased; the cat who has gotten the cream. He’s like a lion once more. You are helpless to resist his indication that he wants to cuddle, and so you let him pull you into his arms, let him manoeuvre you to lay against his chest until you can hear his heart beating. His fingers stroke your head, like you’re a sweet-tempered animal yourself. “Mmm. Rest with me, little bird.”

You let yourself. Your body is aching and sore from the orgasms and the sex, and you let your eyes drift closed, lulled by the comforting rhythm of his breathing.

A sleepy kiss is dropped onto the crown of your head.

“Enjoy it whilst you can,” Jing Yuan hums. “Before we start having to make room for Mimi every night.”

#writing #not sfw text #jing yuan smut #jing yuan x reader #chubby reader posting #commissioned work #hsr x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr posting

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zaephix · 4 months

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golden child , lion boy , tell me what it's like to conquer / / jing yuan . . .

as his wife, you have the right to dream of other possibilities, right?

warnings: married!jing yuan and reader, f!reader, use of pet names (love), no y/n, spoilers for the luofu storyline, jealousy, suggestive themes, lowercase intended

w/c: 635 words

a/n: double upload!?!?! cant help it i love this man so much lord help me, art cred: mugenoumi on twt

"you seem to be enjoying your time with those finches."

soft clicks of shoes stepping on the wooden floor reach the general's ears, and as well as the birds he was currently devoting his attention to. jing yuan knew better than to frustrate his wife, however he can't won't seem stop making that pout appear.

"and you know better than to be jealous of some innocent birds, love." the resonant voice of his leaves faint echoes in the chamber. he hums happily as your hands snake around his waist, your face buried in his back. "not m' fault- i missed you," your muffled voice tickles his back, earning you a chuckle.

he gently releases the birds, much to your pleasure. "there. they're gone now, but you ought to open your heart to them. they're excellent companions."

"better companions than me?" you prod with an eyebrow raised. he turns around to face you, and now you can finally see your husband's infuriatingly handsome portrait once more. hundreds of years have passed since your union with jing yuan, and yet he still leaves you breathless each time.

long locks of golden white hair frame his head, stray strands everywhere. it's a common sight for your eyes these days, the ten-lords commission giving your husband more work to do these days, especially after the incident with phantilya. noticing your internal worry, he cradles you in his arms.

"now, now. would i have stuck with you for this long if i'd found better a companion? you think too much, love."

"and you think too little." you buried your face yet again in the crook of his neck. it was times like these when you wished you and your husband were not such important figures to the xianzhou, daydreams of you and jing yuan living a simple life away from here plague your mind almost every day.

"some people think me a fool, reduced down from a feared general to a lazy idiot who can't seem to pick up a pen for the life of him."

"and what do you say to that?"

he grins down at you, the outer corners of his eyes wrinkling with his breathy laugh. "i agree with them. however, there's one thing they do have wrong."

this piques your interest, lifting your head up to make eye contact with him. you tilt your head to the side, encouraging him to continue. "well?"

with sudden enthusiasm, he picks you up and spins you around, your back now hitting the cool concrete of some wall in the room. however, you don't have time to think about what had just happened, as he stole your lips and your breath in that same second.

his lips moved against yours with passion, arms coiling around you in a tight grip. kisses with jing yuan were usually slow and sensual, nothing like the show he's putting on for you right now. you swear you could feel your lips go numb, both of you breathing into each other like you'd never breathe again.

he finally pulls away, a thin strand of saliva connecting you both still. he sighs deeply with a smile on his face. "i've already conquered a feat very few people have before. your love and loyalty to me."

you giggle at the mushy confession. general or not, he'd still be your loving husband. "you can never not have the last word, can you?"

"no ma'am." and he pulls you in again, this time going back to his usual kisses. slow, sensual, and sultry.

a few moments later, something soft and bushy made contact with your leg. your husband's hair was certainly not that long, and you know for a fact you don't have a carpet this fluffy in this room...

"jing, i think mimi wants your attention as well."

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bouncybongfairy · 4 months

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Could you do a live action Zuko x reader, they were betrothed to eachother before his banishment. They frequently had visits and got along really well. First time they met he saw her creating a blue butterfly from her fire bending. The reader can produce blue flames but is a gentle, kind person. Zuko is reading the latest letter she has sent him, praying for his safety and health. How does he feel about them after all this time? Maybe this fuel his fire to complete his quest and get home.

See You Soon

Prince Zuko x Fem Reader

Summary: Both Zuko and can't stop thinking about each other, after reading the most recent letters you sent to each other.

Word Count: 2.0k

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It’s been some time since the last time you’d seen Zuko face to face. Ever since his banishment, so about three years. You’d think those wounds would have healed, a betrothal that was nothing more than a concept faded in time. Anyone who’d know you would say you were well past it, those people obviously weren’t paying close enough attention. Sending each other letters, drawings and pressed flowers. Detailing everything unfolding in his quest to find the Avatar. Her day to day life with school and helping your mom with all the tailoring for the Fire Lord’s family. A very important part in your life considering your family had been tailoring in the palace for generations. Every once in a while you’d send him an embroidered Lion to represent power and leadership, hiding his name tiny within the mane. Although you found comfort in the words of reassurance he gave through ink and paper, it only made you long for something more. Reminiscing on all the precious memories that now feel like they were taken for granted.

The two of you met by chance, your mother worked in the palace. She made all the clothes for the royal family. Often having you assist, holding her pin cushion or any other request she may have. At first not paying each other much attention, one day Azula came in, berating both your mother and self like she did to all other staff. Hearing horror stories from others in the palace made you terrified of her. The last thing you wanted was to get your family banished for looking at her wrong. Zuko noticed this, and nudged your arm; looking over at her and then rolling his eyes. Giving you a reassuring smile, Azula then nudged your shoulder with hers as she walked out.

“That girl may be a princess by blood line but not respect from her people. She rules with fear when it should be grace,” you mother grumbled as you walked into the house.

“That may be true but it must be hard, growing up competing for the throne. Having your entire life mapped out for you even before you’re born. That must be so hard on someone so young, I think I'd break,” pulling your hair out of the tight bun. Your mother smiled, setting the bags on the table. Cupping your face in her hands,

“I love that in a nation so pitiless and jaded that you have kept your soft spirit. You know that, but that girl spoiled down to the soul,” your mother laughs before turning back to her bags.

You laugh and walk into your bedroom to change before heading back outside. The weather was perfect to practice your fire bending. One of the perks of having a mother who worked in the palace was better education for you. Now that you had been learning to bend from a master, you were able to do more than you could ever imagine. At school all you learned was combat or defensive bending. At home, you liked practicing making different shapes. At the beginning it was simple stuff like circles or hearts, with time they were getting more intricate. Being able to make things like flowers, birds and even butterflies. You were in the empty field behind your family's home, working on your bending. You’d finally learned to make the butterfly flap its wings and fly around for a couple moments at a time before dissipating. Taking a deep breath and creating the flames, putting all your focus into manipulating its form. Holding your breath nervously as you watch it fly around you. The blue light glowing off the flame lit Zuko's face up, where he was watching from a couple feet away. You gasped out of surprise and backed away.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to- when Azula nudged you, this fell off your top. I just wanted to return it,” he said, holding out the embroidered patch of a crabapple tree that was pinned to your top.

“Oh, thank you. Wow I'm really surprised you took the time to return it, as someone with so much responsibility; it’s an honor,” you say, giving him a quick bow out of respect.

“I’ve only seen masters create such detailed shapes with blue flame, can I help?” he asks, you nod in agreement as he comes closer. He stands behind you, pressing his chest against your back. Nudging your arms up with his hands telling you to create the flame before continuing,

“Holding your breath limits the amount of time your fire can stay in the air. Like suffocating a candle with its lid. Fire can’t be without oxygen, can you feel my breathing against your back? Match it to yours then try to make the butterfly,” he said.

You were so nervous but took a deep breath in before matching the rise and fall of his chest. Immediately you could feel the difference, like you had more control over the flames. Being able to make the wing movements sharp and clean. Making the flame circle around the two of you, forcing your bodies closer together.

“See, isn't that so much better?” he asked.

“Yeah, I never thought I could have so much control over my bending,” you said, moving to face him.

“I have to get back but i’ll see you around?” he asked, as he took off in a rush which made you chuckle.

After that night, it was like fate just couldn’t keep the two of you apart. He was getting fitted more often for leather armor and things like that. Noticing each other in lessons and sneaking glances. This progressed until eventually Zuko became unbothered with who saw the two of you interacting. One day he slipped a note into your bag, wanting to meet later that night. Your heart skipped a beat of course, and for the rest of the day it was all you could think about. The day seemed so much longer now that you had something to look forward to. Practically skipping home from lessons, even though you still had a couple hours before dark. You were happy to be home daydreaming. Your mom was home, cooking komodo chicken. Giving her a kiss on the cheek before heading off to your bedroom. Originally you were going to wear what you always did but part of you felt like the night was too special for your everyday attire. Normally keeping your hair up in a tight bun, you decide to let it down. It took you a while to convince yourself to leave it down but eventually you did.

Everyone was finally asleep, the house dark and quiet. You sneak out the window of your bedroom. Zuko was waiting for you right outside which made you gasp, not seeing it was him at first. He had a big smile on his face, which was refreshing considering he’s been going through alot lately. On a night with such amazing weather, the main city and markets were busy with life. Zuko and you however prefer the peacefulness of looking over the city from the peak of a hill not too far. Zuko was pointing out different constellations in the sky to you. Or showing him new little tricks you were learning with your bending. He always acted really impressed but you knew he was doing it for your benefit. You loved that about him, that he cared so much about your confidence.

“You know, my father says it’s time to start looking for a girl to betroth,” he says.

“Oh? Any girls you had in mind?” you ask playfully.

“No,” he says back in the same playful tone, which makes you elbow him in his ribs.

“In all seriousness though, how do you feel about that?” he asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side.

“I think I'm waiting for you to ask me properly,” you said chuckling.

Zuko also felt like he took all these moments for granted. He was currently in his room on the ship. Looking around at all the notes and drawings he’d pinned to the walls. They’d just left where he and his crew were docked, following a lead on the Avatar. Reading the most recent letter you’d sent him, it pained him to know you were feeling the same grief he was about feeling apart. He never really talked about it to his uncle or anyone but it was one of the main reasons he was so motivated to complete his quest. He felt like he was missing out on the most important years of his life. Uncle Iroh always talks about how memorable his late youth was, before he had real responsibilities as general. He missed everything about you. Especially how sweet you were, always finding the good in people. Even finding beauty and grace in Azula; his own mother couldn’t find that in her.

Often when Zuko was anxious he would think about you comforting him. He knew he could be hot headed both emotionally and physically. This never phased you, even when he was in full blown flames. Always finding a way to calm you down. Somehow reassuring him without making him feel small or stupid. You always used to tell him that anger is a form of passion. That you loved the passion and resilience he had, and that one day he’d be able to channel it without anger. He found so much comfort in you so being ripped away was hard but reading your letters helped. Made him feel like everything wasn’t as impossible as it may seem. Like once he returns home he’ll know you’ll be there to support him.

He laid back on his bed, your letter on his chest. Worried that you’d grow tired feeling his love through paper and ink. That you’d yearn for love that’s more present in your everyday life. This fear was doubled by the fact that he assumed telling you about this fear would make him come across as insecure. Maybe he was but he didn’t want you to know that. He hated being seen as weak, you were too kind to admit but he knows that exactly what you’d think. Currently thinking about one of the last nights you had together. In Zuko’s old room, laying on the bed together. You were playing with his hair and he had his arms wrapped around your waist. Both of you were pretty tired from training and school. Just melting into each other, enjoying the comfort you gave him. There wasn’t any talking but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. You’d kiss him on his forehead every once in a while, finger combing his hair. Taking in your smell and leaning into your touch. He never felt so vulnerable in a comforting way with someone.

Iroh came into the room, making Zuko jump up. Clutching onto his letter, immediately his uncle sensed something was off. His eyes were dark and puffy, not to mention quite red. The bruise on his face appeared to be swelling and it was obvious that he was beyond his limit. Iroh set down the wooden tray he carried in, handing him a cup.

“I know you don’t want to hear this but mentally you are being strained. Bending and combat is easy for you because you’ve done it your whole life. Emotionally, some of your muscles are weak but I can see your slowly strengthening them. It’s important that you get lots of rest while you-” he went to look over at Zuko and stopped talking once he realized the boy was asleep. Iroh held back a laugh before taking the cup and letter out of his hands. Zuko gripped the paper and woke up but settled down once he realized it was him.

“Rest now, and please truly let yourself rest,” he said, pulling the blanket over him and he laid down. Folding the letter gently and leaving it on the nightstand.

#prince zuko fanfic #netflix avatar #avatar fanfiction #avatar live action #avatar last airbender #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko x y/n #prince zuko imagine #prince zuko x you

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thechekhov · 5 months

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Chekhov Reads Dungeon Meshi: CH47

I would like to thank Ryoko Kui for this.

I really love how, despite being antagonistic with Chilchuck, Izutsumi seems to like Marcille and him the best out of all the rest.

You know they're Japanese pancakes with that amount of air padding them out.... 😂

You know, it's interesting because if I remember correctly, taste is the oldest sense we have. Basic organisms surviving in water needed to be able to taste the environment in order to allow it to move away from acidic water, or dangerous environments. So it's curious that their taste is no longer working while their other senses remain.

....sounds like it was maybe less of the...power.... and maybe more of the fact that his old childhood friend was growing old?

....... y'know. Just suggesting...

To fight a trainer with a powerful pokemon, you must first capture a powerful pokemon yourself.

AIEEEEE~

I was JUST about to say "man, this kid seems to be a genuinely good leader! His people don't fear him and he has a good head on his shoulders. I sure hope nothing bad happens to him!"

And here we are.

Oooooh a forest? Or one of those water places.

Update: One of those water places. A cistern.

Her charm wore off! And now she can experience unspeakable horrors of being known in a vulnerable state.

Someone get this poor man some google maps.

Laios, why do you look.... less than thrilled with this information?

Oh, his Fixation Sense is tingling, that's why.

Oh? Rare Senshi moment of stubbornness?

Mayhaps even.... A BACKSTORY?

When the party is in Analysis Paralysis and the DM says 'roll initiative'

Marcille is taking this Crazy Future Girlfriend thing to all new highs.

Is he afraid of birds? Or lions? Or both? What is happening here? It makes no sense. It would be delicious! Senshi, stop that's like 60 kg of chicken wings, easy!

BONUS:

Here's the thing. They aren't like, twins necessarily. But I do think that Falin, while she's just as weird as Laios is, makes herself approachable to people. She cares about ghosts as beings, instead of seeing them only as a scientific anomaly.

But other than that.... honestly I feel like Toshi wouldn't fall in love with a female Laios either.

Marcille and Falin being MORE likely to go out to the dungeon as women makes sense somehow. Though I am amused at how femme-leaning all elves are naturally.

I think these gender twists are all pretty surface level but given that it's a conversation the party has in real time... I get it.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi quick reacts #dungeon meshi liveblog #chekhov reads dungeon meshi

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try-set-me-on-fire · 21 days

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Tagged by @doeeyeseddie and @eddiebabygirldiaz for seven sentence Sunday! Since I haven’t been posting much for tag games lately, here’s significantly more sentences than that from bucktommy acquire a child au. Warning for mentions of past child abuse in Tommy’s family.

Tommy stares down at the dotted line, pen hovering, running the name through his head over and over again and feeling kind of stupid for it. There’s no meaningful difference, at this point, between this last signature and any other of the seemingly dozens of pieces of paper they’ve signed tonight. Nothing really counts until Buck hands it over to the lawyer on his way to work tomorrow. He could sign and then tear the thing up, toss it in the trash. Find someone better to take this on. Take his name out of it, at the very least, hand the kid over to Evan entirely.

Evan, sitting next to him close enough that their knees are pressed tougher, bony, under the table. “What are you thinking?”

Tommy sighs and sets the pen down, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Can’t we just use… I don’t know, Diaz? I don’t want to give the poor kid my name.”

Buck laughs, just a little, still mostly serious. “I mean, I’m sure Eddie’d say yes if we asked, but- You gave me your name, why’s it a problem now?”

Tommy slides his fingers between Buck’s, surprised as he always is at how well they fit together. “You’re an adult, you can- handle it, carry it. Kinard children have historically been miserable things.”

Evan tilts his head, probably thinking about what Tommy is thinking about: Tommy, beat by his dad who was beat by his dad who was beat by- etc, etc, going back the entire horrible line of them. He’s imagined it before, some medieval peasant kid somewhere, crying into a hay bale or whatever the fuck it is poor folk slept on back then. Evan’d probably know. Maybe farther back than that. A caveman all the other cavemen side-eyed ‘cause he threw his kid in the path of a sabertooth or something.

“Okay,” is what Evan says. “I could get all pop psychology about, like, breaking cycles or whatever, but actually-” he points down the hall. “When I put him to bed tonight he talked literally right up until he was unconscious about all the stuff we saw at the zoo today, that I was in fact there for. Passed out mid word about how we got ice cream and saw a bird. Just a regular bird, that pigeon that landed on the table next to us. I think he was as excited about that as he was about, like, actual lions.”

Tommy laughs, despite his mood. “He was excited about the pigeon.” Milo had been so fascinated by it his ice cream had mostly melted by the time they could successfully prompt him to eat it.

Buck grins. “That kid- our kid- is happy, Tommy. Another talking point? How you carried him everywhere. He got to be so tall, he said you showed him everything.”

“I always hated being too short to see past crowds of people,” Tommy says quietly. “All those legs, everybody strangers.”

“I think most kids hate that,” Buck nods. He leans in to kiss Tommy’s cheek. “You’re not having second thoughts about this?”

“No,” Tommy says, immediate, breathy like it got punched out of him. “No. More than sure.”

Evan nods again. “He’s happy, and safe, and loved because of you. Sign the paper. It’s just a name, and one that I like very much actually.”

“Just a name,” Tommy raises an eyebrow. “So you would’ve been fine with him becoming a Buckley if we had done this the other way?”

“Oh, fuck no,” Buck says, face twisting up lemon-sour as Tommy laughs.

“You hypocrite.”

“Hey, you should have come up with a new name when you married me,” Buck sticks his tongue out, leaning back in his chair like a pleased cat. “Combined them maybe? We could have been… the Binards?”

Tommy squints at him. “No.”

“The Kuckleys?”

“Evan,” Tommy snorts. “No- that’s terrible.”

Buck grins. “Yeah. We really should have just asked Eddie. All be Diazes, it’d fix everything.”

“Imagine the kid’s family tree project at school,” Tommy says, picking up the pen, signing his name as fast as he can before doubt creeps back in. “We’re gonna have to teach him the words ‘non-conventional family structure’.”

Buck laughs and laughs, leaning into Tommy’s side until he kisses up the sound.

Tagging @shitouttabuck @bigfootsmom @iinryer @chronicowboy @butchdiaz @homerforsure if ya got anything to share!

#seven sentence sunday #tag games #a harder kind of fear

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wtftarot · 3 months

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PAC: The World

We've come full circle and it's about fuckin time, right? Time for the end. The World is harmony and the end of a cycle. She is that moment when you remember that you are the universe, you are One with everything and you feel it in your bones. It is recognizing your place as a human on this planet. The World is an ending, the inevitable conclusion but he is also the herald of a new beginning. What do they want to tell you? Let's fuck around and find out

As always this reading is for entertainment purposes ONLY and is not a substitute for professional advice in any capacity. Remember, use common sense and don't be a dumbass.

Four groups today, you can pick The Bird (eagle?), The Lion, The Person, or The Bull and head on to your reading.

The Bird/Eagle

The Nine of Cups and The Nine of Wands on the bottom of the deck.

This is fuckin gorgeous for y'all. The cycle that's ending for y'all is one where y'all had to fight tooth and nail for everything you wanted. I'm seeing the end of the Lord of the Rings, where the eagles fly Frodo and Sam out of Mordor after they destroy the Ring. I don't remember if Frodo actually says it, but I'm hearing him say "It's done". Y'all have been dealing with a rough ass cycle, huh? For it to show up as the One Ring? There may be one last battle of sorts? Like a boss battle. This is my nerd group (affectionate), I'm getting a lot of fantasy imagery. Think of it as one last challenge so you can truly close this cycle once and for all. For some of y'all, this cycle has been a long and very internal one. Something that's been weighing you down, that you're finally letting fall from your shoulders. What I'm seeing is that this 'boss battle" is a choice of sorts. You've been growing and figuring your way out of this cycle and all at once you're faced with a choice. This cycle has been more internal and you may have not seen much externally about it. It's like this choice embodies the cycle externally and you have a physical/material choice to make. Continue this cycle? Or Step forward with growth? And it will be that clear to you. Again with the imagery, I'm seeing a game screen with a choice. This path is unknown, keep going? Press X: Keep going. Press Y: Turn Around. Listen, I'm not much of a gamer like at all, so I don't know if that's a thing that happens in games? The last game I played was like three years ago?? So, the fact I keep getting gaming imagery means I'm really tapped into some of y'all's guides. Ok, the guide that's doing a lot of this is practically screaming in my ear to yell at y'all TO PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR DREAMS. FOR FUCKS SAKE. If you're into gaming and have been playing a game that's set in the woods, that message goes double. Don't ask me, I just work here. Now the cycle y'all are stepping into? Fucking beautiful, ok? Y'all are gonna be getting a lot of shit you have been wishing and crossing your fingers for. I'm hearing/seeing "yes, those too" and imagery of a belt and other accessories? This group is loud and I love it. Yea, even the "little things" you've wanted that aren't high on the priority list will be coming your way soon. And y'all are going to be rightfully smug about it. I think some of the blessings coming your way were things that people around you have tried to dismiss or downplay or talk you out of, so yeah you can be a lil bit smug about it. You've earned it. The past lil bit for y'all has probably felt very stale and stagnant but now that it's closing, things are going to be moving and improving. It may jolt y'all a bit at first. Cause this energy is so fucking different from where you've been, that even just dipping your toes in it will be a shock. It will be a welcome shock though, refreshing. The way this will manifest will be different for all y'all, but one thing's for sure, y'all are gonna fuckin run with it. After that initial choice, falling into this new chapter will be the easiest thing in the world.

random ass vibes: video games, d&d, 999, leaning into a new clothing style, fish, moon cycles, someone have a moon tattoo? birthday cake, HAPPY BIRTHDAY?

The Lion

The Moon and The Tower on the bottom of the deck.

Ok, you need to take a break. Full stop. Even if it's just ten minutes of sitting in nothing and silence. Your brain needs a rest from everything. I feel like y'all need to be told that yes, this thing does need to end. The cycle you're in may have become your comfort zone and you feel safe repeating it cause you know what to expect. It does have to end though. Y'all may have some idea that this ending is coming but you don't know just how much things will change when it does. This may be about a belief about the world or yourself that's really holding you back. Once clarity comes, you won't fit in the same places, with the same groups you used to. I don't blame you for resisting this, it can be terrifying to start questioning belief systems or old worldviews. Some of y'all may be questioning the religion or politics you were brought up in. It could be an understanding of who you are vs who others want you to be. Y'all are feeling a bit overwhelmed and confused as to what all this means. Sweetie, that's okay. This IS confusing and overwhelming. It is hard and scary and can leave you feeling very vulnerable. Babe, you need to stop pushing yourselves to have all the answers already. This one takes time and it's okay to let it. That's probably why the message I got for y'all before I even pulled the cards was for y'all to take a break. Not only that, but you don't have to tell anyone about this. Yes, if you can find some safe support through these periods of life do it, but you don't owe anyone what you're going through. Y'all are putting soo much pressure on yourselves to know everything already, to have all the answers. To know every aspect of who you are and what you believe. Wanna know something terrifyingly liberating? You never will. You will never know every single aspect of yourself cause you're always growing and changing. Same with your beliefs, you're always learning new things about how the world works, so your beliefs will always be shifting, even slightly. This is all coming from The World card cause y'all, more than anything need to let yourselves just BE. Be in the moment, stop interrogating them as if all the answers will be found there. The answers you're seeking will come in time and letting yourself live. I know the world we live in pretty much demands you have everything figured out at all times but that's bullshit. It's okay to change your mind.

random ass vibes: small-town vibes, doves or white birds, 919, the goth kid at the family reunion, lightning, trees, dragons, red clothes. nature vs nurture.

The Person

The Sun and The Hermit Rx on the bottom of the deck

Y'all it's time to come out of hiding. You've been hiding your truth for a WHILE. lol I'm hearing that lil Sunday school song: "Don't hide your light under a bushel, NO!" ( I grew up in the bible-belt, don't judge). That's a song for little kids if y'all don't know it, you don't have to look it up. It's telling me though that y'all have been hiding your light, so to speak, since you were a little, little kid. Like four-ish years old. Now, I don't know y'all's situation, it may not be safe for y'all to be fully yourself, and cause it seems like y'all have been hiding your whole damn life that's probably the case. So, BE FUCKING SAFE, okay? Because you're at this reading though, there are probably some ways you're hiding yourself that you don't have to. It's like y'all have just been letting people decide who you are when you're around them? Y'all are wearing other's projections of you like masks. I'm hearing "too much". Ooh boy, y'all listen, this group feels like I'm talking to my younger self. I cannot tell y'all the number of times I was told I was "too much", too loud, too quiet, too stubborn, too whatever. Unless y'all are being too cruel, too bigoted or whatever, y'all have a place here okay? Y'all seem to have taken being told you're too X, or not Y enough to heart and have whittled yourself down piece by piece cause that's what the people around you want. Y'all are like the fucking sun and everyone is demanding you be a candle. I think it's people you care about telling you this too. And because you care about them, you want them to be happy and comfortable. So, of course, you can be a little smaller, whatever they need, right? Now though, you've been doing this so long, you've lost yourself a bit, haven't you? The World is telling you it's time to call those parts of yourself back. Dig up those parts of yourself that you've buried. You can start as small as you feel you need to. It may be hard and confusing at first but soon it will be as natural as breathing. If you're not even sure where to start or have forgotten those parts, ask your guides and the universe for help. Ask for signs and to be put in situations that bring out those buried parts of you. You may have outgrown some of them and that's okay. Just prepare yourself, it won't be easy. Ya know that tingling feeling when your leg has been asleep and it's waking up? I feel that even though my leg has been fine this whole time. So it will probably be uncomfortable too. You should probably expect some hard reactions from the people around you too, especially if they've only known you as the you you've pretended to be for them. But that home you've been looking for? Felt calling? That can only be built by you being your authentic self. Otherwise, it'll just be another place where you have to wear a mask to be welcome. I wish I could end this one on a lighter note for y'all. This isn't an easy one. Take some alone time and please, take care of yourself through this. Whether you realize it or not, you are working through something really difficult and need to go easy on yourself through this.

random ass vibes: Halloween, candy, ghosts, 11:11, turtles, alligators, Frankenstein's monster, Venus, halos or angels?

The Bull

The Page of Pentacles and the Eight of Swords with the Empress on the back of the deck.

Y'all have so much fuckin potential, okay? Y'all are doubting yourselves so fuckin hard and The Universe and your Guides are sick of it. We all know someone who's amazingly talented but is so fuckin hard on themselves about it, to the point where you just want to grab em by the shoulders and shake them screaming YOU ARE WONDERFUL AND TALENTED. That's how your guides are feeling about you, all the damn time. I'm serious. I was only taking One card and the bottom of the deck for each group but the Eight of Swords came out too for y'all. Y'all are stuck in your head, questioning your every goddamn move and wondering why you're exhausted and never seem to move forward. This reading's tone is much more direct, like fed up snap the fuck out of its energy. Not that your guides are fed up with you, just fed up with your self-doubting bullshit. I'm hearing "..but they'll think I'm x" So, you may feel like if you truly lean into your potential and fail, people will have shit to say. Sweetie, they will and they will if you succeed and they will if you never do jack-shit. One of the few guarantees in life is that people will talk shit no matter what you do. The only control you have is why they're talking shit. Would you rather them talk shit about you cause you went after what you want, win or lose? Or because you never went after what you wanted, which is exactly what they wanted. The cycle that needs to end for you is one you have to end. End the cycle of shitting on yourself just cause you may not be where you want to be. End the doubt of your own capabilities. You really have NO CLUE how fucking amazing your life will get the second you start questioning those shitty thoughts. Like just questioning them, not even fully disbelieving them yet. Just questioning them will do fuckin wonders for you. If you're a beginner let yourself BE a beginner. If you want to try something new but are afraid of being a beginner then say fuck it and fuck you to those thoughts and start anyway. Hell, you don't have to tell anyone you're starting at first. You have the potential to be a whole-ass fuckin meadow and are doubting and even criticizing yourself for having to start as a handful of seeds. This is you're pep talk, in case you haven't figured that out yet. One other thing, some of y'all may be fearing the work that'll come with believing yourself, that it'll be tiring and all that. It's gonna be the opposite, sweetie. I mean, yeah it'll be work. But it's gonna be energizing. Do you know how much energy you've been hemorrhaging by shoving down allllllll that potential constantly? All of that will be freed up in a second and spent on fun shit. I believe in ya, babe.

Random ass vibes: thrifting, rainbows, makeup, cinnamon, puppets, purple, birds, card games, heart tattoos.

#tarot reading #tarot #divination #tarot community #tarot cards #pick a card #pac reading #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a picture #wtftarot #pick a photo #tarot readings #pac

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autisticlancemcclain · 6 months

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part one

“Guys,” a soft voice interrupted, and Keith could’ve collapsed with relief. The castle has been flipped sideways during the fall, floor suddenly now 90 degrees, and standing at the side of the control board, now the very high top, was Lance. For whatever reason he had climbed it while they bickered, and now stood very still, gloved hand pressed to the glass of the windshield. Blood trickled from his temple, tracing a line down the side of his face, disappearing in the neckline of his armour. “We got company.”

Shifting gears – Keith was about to tear him a new one, when Shiro says sound off you sound off – but froze when he looked out the window, following Lance’s gaze.

Marching towards them, in numbers Keith couldn’t pretend to count, was an army.

— — —

“Well,” said Hunk, holding Allura in both arms, “that looks bad.”

Shiro snorted. “Thank you, Hunk.”

“Anytime.”

Keith wanted to snap at them both. What time was it to laugh? They were injured, mostly defenseless, castle crashed. The Lions still sat, unusable, in their hangers. Hopefully they were okay, but it wasn’t like anyone could go check. Keith could barely even feel Red’s presence in the back of his mind – that stupid new Empire toy had drained them. It was frightening. And Hunk and Shiro were making jokes?

But Keith couldn’t find the words to chew them out. Instead, his voice was caught in his throat as he looked on the slowly advancing army with wide eyes and tense shoulders.

The advancing army was…trees.

That’s what it looked like, anyways. Rows and rows of rough bark and quietly swaying leaves, advancing in formation. A large black bird flew, cawing, above them. Keith tried not to think about omens.

“Did a forest come to life?” Pidge muttered, squinting. Keith was relieved she was seeing the same thing. Keith has been in space a long time, at this point, but this was like nothing he had ever seen before. This didn’t look like a people in any way he understood. They were alive, surely, their movements organic in fluid in a way non-living things couldn’t quite manage, but his eyes were not deceiving him, and in front of him was a bunch of moving trees. As he watched, they advanced slightly further, stopped, and froze.

And then, slowly, they morphed.

Out of the bark, people seemed to…melt? Was that the right word? The trees planted themselves on the beach as if they’d always been there, as if the giant ocean was simply a lake beside a forest, and the bark of each plant seemed to shimmer, to shift. Humanoid figures took form, with skin like wood and hair like moss and leaves, eyes dark and old and knowing. Little saplings hid behind the sweeping dirt skirts of giant, older trees, giggling amongst themselves. Tiny droplets of water shined in dots on dozens of brown faces, glittering on brows and lips and noses like diamond piercings. Vines wreathed around torsos like tailored clothing.

Above them, Lance gasped. It was a quick, near-silent sound, one Keith only noticed because he was watching Lance from his peripherals anyway.

“Dryads,” he whispered, unmistakably excited, and before anyone could get so much as a word in he scrambled down the control board, careened down the bridge, and sprinted his way out the exit.

“No, what are you – Lance!” Hunk shouted, the first to react. He handed a still-unconscious Allura off to Coran, who took her with a wide-eyed, confused expression.

“Number Two, what is –”

“I am going to burn your Percy Jackson books,” Hunk seethed, already stomping out after Lance. He scooped up his blue helmet on his way and shook it at the door. “You hear me, Leandro? Burn them! Head outta the clouds, that’s an army!”

Keith was quick to follow. The rest of the team fell in step behind him, jogging after Lance.

Outside was…well, it startled him.

He’d seen it on the way down, of course. But he hadn’t been focused, really, hadn’t taken the time to map it past what the air currents felt like, past a safe (ish) place to land. The beauty of it now knocked the breath out of him. The ocean was almost crystalline, it was so clear and blue. Keith could smell it even through his helmet, the salt, the sea, and something Keith couldn’t recognise. Every rock on the seashore shone in the bright golden sun, glittering like encrusted jewellery. Down the beach, where the rocks gave way to beach, the sand was bright brilliant white; hard, actually, to look at. On Keith’s other side was a rolling, sage green meadow, peppered with wildflowers so familiar Keith almost felt he could name them. He saw dozens of fruit trees, all different kinds, so ripe and rich his mouth watered. He was nowhere near enough to smell them, but the fruits were so plump and colourful that every instinct curled up in every corner in his head begged him to gorge himself to coma. Even the army in front of him, the rows and rows of stern tree warriors – dryads, Lance had called them – couldn’t stir wariness in Keith’s heart. His shoulders relaxed without his say-so.

One of the warriors stepped forth. She was wide-set, tall, and the ground trembled with every step. Her eyes were dark as murky green pond depths. Deep gauges lined her face, most from the pattern of the bark that made up her skin, but many that disrupted the pattern; rough, torn scars, one right through her right eye.

“State your business,” she said, voice rough as sandpaper.

No one said anything. The awe Keith felt was reflected in his friends, wonder rendering them mute.

“You’re dryads,” said Lance softly. He stepped forward, Hunk’s hand falling from his shoulder. “Tree spirits.”

The tree-woman nodded. “If that’s what your people call us, child. Here, we’re Aegians, Last Guardians of Marmaro. And we ask again – name yourselves.”

Her army raised their weapons as she spoke. Sharp, pointed weapons, some of hardened stone, some of crystal and marble, some of the same wood that made up their flesh. One even had shards of metal attached to a complicated string of vine.

“We are Paladins of Voltron,” Shiro said, finally, hands held up in peace. He moved slowly up from next to Pidge, eyes never leaving the Aegian leader, until he finally stood in front of her, arm loosely circling Lance’s elbow, tugging him gently back. “We come in peace. Our ship was attacked by the Galran Empire, and we barely made it out intact. We apologise for any damage.”

“I’m not sure ‘intact’ is the right word,” murmured the Aegian leader, glancing quickly at their smoking ship, “but regardless. You are here now. I am Dryope, and I grant you asylum, as is my birthright.” She said the name like dry-oh-pay, but with a lilt to her vowels Keith couldn’t replicate even in his own head.

Dryope stood to her full height – which, ho-lee – and struck her staff twice on the rock on which she stood. Immediately, the army fell back, weapons sheathed, postures loosened.

“Aegians!” she called, and every single tree-warrior stood to attention. “The Paladins of Voltron have come to us. We shall extend our hospitality to them, as dictated in the Ancient Laws.” She turned to them for a moment, contemplating. “Seven households come forward. Our guests are to be fed, clothed, and cared for. Who shall claim the honour?”

Keith exchanged a look with Hunk, shifting uncomfortably. Seven households? They were in no position to complain, but on all the planets they’ve visited before, they’ve never been housed separately. To speak up would surely insult their hosts – but was it safe to split up? They were injured and exhausted – if their hosts proved malevolent, they would be almost powerless individually. Allura was still out, Lance for sure had a head injury, Keith was, now that he noticed, breathing laboriously. A quick glance beside him revealed an odd angle to Pidge’s wrist, probably sprained, and Hunk shifted every couple of seconds like he could not stand comfortably. Shiro favoured his left leg. Only Coran stood tall and strong, Allura held protectively in his arms – but Keith knew better. (He will never, as long as he lives, forget the way the man collapsed, ashen and unresponsive, right at his spot at the castle’s controls. The rest of them had just been deemed healthy enough to fight again after falling ill to Deadman’s Spots, fevered and covered in sores and wasting away. Only Coran had been spared – or so they thought. They had almost lost him.) Coran could have a shard of bone sticking out of his leg and none of them would know.

They could not afford to refuse the help.

The gathered army rippled and shifted as people answered Dryope’s call. One by one more Aegians pushed their way to the front, until seven stood just behind their leader, shoulder to shoulder, chins raised proudly.

“We have space for the injured girl,” spoke the first Aegian. She stepped forward, and she didn’t look like a warrior at all – the smile on her face was soft and welcoming. She was much stouter than Dryope, and and her eyes held the same maternal kindness that Shiro’s often did, deep and black and understanding. The lined pattern that made up her bark was softer, lining her face like smile lines. Thousands of branches twisted and grew out of her waist, resembling the tangled roots of the biggest tree in the forest. Clinging to her branch-skirt were at least four little saplings, young and reedy, peeking their wide eyes out behind their mama’s hips. She smiled wider, hands outstretched, and Keith had to stop himself from walking into them himself.

“Yes,” said Dryope, nodding at her. Her face went oddly soft, smiling at the maternal woman. When she turned back to face the team, her face morphed back into its impassive expression. “Paladins, Rhea and her family will house your injured girl. She will be well cared for – Rhea has nursed and watched many in her time.”

“Come,” beckoned Rhea, almost interrupting Dryope. The leader didn’t seem to mind. “Bring her to me, she must be laid comfortably.”

Coran walked forward, handing Allura to her gently. It spoke volumes to her character that Coran approached her at all, let alone that he pressed a quiet kiss to his charge’s forehead and stepped away.

“She is only tired,” he said softly. “Not injured. She needs rest, and perhaps food.”

“I will see to it. Come, children.” With a sweep of her skirts echoing like a bamboo broom, she walked back through the ranks, saplings clinging to her back like baby monkeys.

Next, an elderly man stepped forward. He was hunched, gnarled fingers curled around the haft of a sharp wooden trident that resembled Dryope’s staff. Despite his limp, he walked with dignity, and when he lifted his chin to face Coran, his eyes were bright.

“Have you space, Father?” murmured Dryope.

He nodded. “Always.”

Using his trident as a walking stick, he strode toward Coran, standing beside him. Coran, ever the diplomat, smiled slightly, and began speaking with him too quietly for Keith to hear. Both men, he noticed, seemed to stand the same way, although he couldn’t explain what that meant. It was just – vibes, he supposed. An energy.

“By the Sky, Mother, how long is this going to take?”

Startled by the abrupt change in tone, Keith jumped, turning towards the man who spoke. He was taller than anyone on the team, although shorter than most of the other Aegians, and covered himself with leaves that looked deliberately sewn rather than grown. His smile was wide and white and what Keith could only describe as shark-like.

But what was most striking was his skin. The dark lines of patterns that covered it had Keith thinking he was as Aegian as the rest of them, made of tree bark, but then he blinked and realised – they were merely marks, or tattoos. Unlike the rest of the Aegians, this man had skin, this man was –

Lance gasped. “You’re — human!”

“Half,” the man corrected, chuckling. He swept forward and delicately grabbed Lance’s hand in one of his, pressing a kiss just above his wrist. Lance blushed up to his hairline. “My name is Peitho. I was born here, on Aegis. My father was a lost human explorer. I have never been to earth. But human genes…” He looked Lance up and down, grinning charmingly. “I’ve always felt they’re very dominant.”

Lance, obviously pleased with the attention, warmed up quick. He walked over, reaching up to brush the hair out of Peitho’s eyes, touch lingering. Like they were friends or something. Keith ground his teeth so hard you could hear it from the ship’s smoking engine room.

“I thought…I‘ve never seen a human in space. I thought we were alone, up here.”

Peitho laughed, full-bodied and bright, like the sound of a smoothly rumbling engine. His handsome face creased lightly as he laughed, emphasizing newly-formed smile lines, which only made him more beautiful, not less. Lance smiled widely along with him. “Oh, my dear,” he said, turning that charming grin full blast on Lance, “you are never alone.”

Keith thought his jaw might crack. What a sleazeball. No wonder Lance liked him so much.

“The introductions need not drag on,” Peitho said grandly, sweeping his arm out like he was in charge or something. His other arm was around Lance’s shoulders. “Akeso, Dysnomia, Elatreus, meet with your paladins. They are hungry, and likely tired from travel. The sooner we have them rested, the sooner they can partake in our welcoming festivities. Right, Mother?”

Dryope nodded, looking a mix of annoyed and amused. “Yes, you embodiment of impertinence.”

As ordered by the embodiment of impertinence, three Aegians stepped forward. The first – who must be Akeso, a tall, reedy person with willowy locs falling to their shoulders, who held no weapon – approached Shiro, nodding tersely. Keith felt his brother match the terseness, stiffening.

(Internally, Keith winced – could his brother not get someone who smiled, maybe? Akeso was probably fine, but, yeesh. There was once a time when Shiro laughed more than anyone else Keith knew. Sometimes maniacally, on two hours of sleep. But he heard it so rarely now.)

The second Aegian, Dysnomia, approached Pidge. Like the Green Paladin, she was short as shit. Keith met his friends eyes and snickered at her. The murderous look he got would make him more nervous if he, as Lance so often liked to gripe, had a bone of impulse control in his body. (Rich coming from him, but. Whatever. It wasn’t like Keith could argue.) The third, Elatreus, was absolutely, one hundred percent, the coolest Aegian Keith had seen so far. Holding an intricately crafted crossbow and with a shoulder width approximately the size of a small mountain, he lumbered over to Hunk. He held out his fist. Hunk wasted no time bumping with his own. Keith would be jealous if Hunk didn’t deserve it so bad.

“Oh,” said Peitho, after a moment. “Of course, there is one more. Ares!” He gestured with half as much enthusiasm at Keith. “Your guest.”

Keith stilled. From behind Dryope, the last Aegian host stepped forward. His pale, papery bark was gnarled and scared, bulky, and – stained, it looked like, all the way up the arms. His face was more impassive that Dryope’s, expressionless, except for the slightest of sneers. Resting on one shoulder was a massive club, three times the size of Keith’s head at its tip. Like his host’s arms, it was stained.

Keith forced himself to meet his stare. His host had eyes red as pomegranates – well. Eye. The right side of his face, like the rest of the Aegians, was humanoid. The left side looked like it had – looked like someone had clawed out his eye, leaving a gaping, half-healed knot of a scar.

Ares.

Keith wasn’t familiar with a lot of myths. But he knew what namesake his Aegian host bore – Ares, god of war, god of pain, god of hardened warriors and battlefield and bloodshed.

Fitting, hissed a voice in his mind. Keith curled his fists and ignored it.

“Paladin,” nodded Ares, taking his place next to him.

Keith swallowed. “Ares.”

“That, I believe, is everyone,” said Dryope. “Paladins, please follow your hosts. They will bring you to their homes and ensure you have somewhere to rest. At sundown, we shall reconvene at the hearth, eat, and make merry. Please –” she spread her hands, “enjoy our island. I will see you all shortly.”

She cracked her staff once on the ground. Immediately, her army parted for her, following her in formation once she marched through. Many of them returned to their tree form. It was still strange to watch.

Keith jumped as a hand reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Shiro smiled slightly at him, squeezing again before letting go.

“See you soon, kiddo.”

He followed his host, leaving Keith to realise he was the last still gathered in the shadow of their crashed castle. The eyeless Aegian stood next to him, hands resting on his club, watching him curiously.

Keith cleared his throat. “Um, we can go.”

The Aegian continued to stare. Keith shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to draw his bayard. That would certainly not help. Things were precarious enough.

“You do not trust us,” his host observed. His one remaining eye was unblinking, holding Keith’s stare until his own eyes burned and he had to blink.

“No,” Keith admitted. It wasn’t that he was scared of the Aegians, per se, but he was wary of them in the same way he was wary of the Blades of Marmora. He recognised their strength, their power, and knew from the way Dryope stood that she was keeping a lot of information to herself. Any group that kept secrets was impossible to trust, at least by Keith’s standards. He suddenly wished he had been paying attention enough to watch Pidge, Lance, and Hunk leave with their hosts, to make sure they were armed.

His host shrugged. “Wise, probably. I would have no trust in your position.”

He started to walk over the rocks, and Keith followed. It was no accident that the Aegian kept Keith on a diagonal to him, visible from his right side. Keith did his best to keep himself in his line of sight.

“You wouldn’t?”

“Do I look like I would?”

“I don’t know how to answer that diplomatically.”

To Keith’s great surprise, his host huffed a laugh. A slight smile upturned Keith’s own lips.

“Fair.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Off the beach and across the meadow, in a deep, round valley, there was a sprawling village. Small, large-bricked buildings dotted hills and lay nestled at the edge of small farms. Dead centre of the valley was a giant fire pit, gently lit, and surrounding it in a perfect circle were several larger buildings in the same style. Keith recognised many of the buildings as temples.

“This way,” Keith’s host said, beckoning him forward. He turned off the main path and walked along the edge of the hill. Keith teetered after him, trying desperately to keep his balance. He was reminded how hard it was to breathe with bruising around his ribcage, how tired he was. But he kept his mouth clenched tightly closed, unwilling to look weak.

They walked far past the centre circle, past outer circles, past even the farthest of farmhouses. In crossing one of them, the man stopped, Keith nearly walking right into him, and waited for several moments. He bent over as a tiny little boar came galloping to the edge of the fence on runty little legs, smiling as he scratched the thing between its tusks. Keith couldn’t help but notice the blood covering the sharp, portraying bones, as if the animal had just recently hunted.

“Hey, Kyknos. Good to see you.”

He pet the boar for a few more minutes, then wordlessly started walking again. Keith had to jog to keep up, tired from the hike so far.

“That, uh, your pet?”

“No.”

Keith waited. No more information came forth.

“Oo-kay, then.”

There was a Lance in his head that was laughing at him, bringing up every one-word answer of Keith’s that had frustrated the Blue Paladin to twitching eyes. Keith scowled.

Finally, the host stopped at a house. Keith felt he would nearly faint with relief, beyond ready to lay down his head, wariness or not.

“This your place?” Keith asked, panting.

His host raised his eyebrow, pushing open the door.

“No,” he deadpanned, “this is my annoying neighbour’s house. He’s on holidays. I’m staying here and using all his things to take revenge for hours of small talk.”

“Oh,” Keith replied, impressed. “Cool.” He’ll have to do that next time Lance is on a solo mission.

“No, I’m – I’m kidding, Paladin.”

“Oh,” Keith repeated, disappointed. “Less cool.”

“Just – get in the house.”

Keith didn’t argue. He followed his host into the small building, nodded as he was pointed to a guest room, and passed out the second his head hit the straw-stuffed pillow.

— — —

part three

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aurorangen · 2 months

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OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag

Thank you for tagging me @matchalovertrait @mdshh @duusheen (and anyone else I might have missed, I'm so late to answer!) I'm doing it for Vincent, he's just interesting to talk about! It's a long one:

What uncommon/common fear do they have? Vincent has a fear of crowded places, how people could be watching or spying on him. What do they want? Why are they doing this? Who is behind it? Anyone could be doing it, but he knows it's from his past (unless something new has developed). Remember he has been spied on before, by someone from Strangerville. Now he doesn't know and we don't know if his Dad's disappearance and Strangerville are all linked, but you can probably guess. Also a fear of going into the operating room and surgery.

Do they have any pet peeves? When people are late. He hates it.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? His briefcase, his favourite cologne, iPad

What do they notice first in a person? Facial expressions, eye contact and body language: how they compose themselves.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? He has high pain tolerance physically/emotionally so 8.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? In the past, it would be flight. But now that he is older it's always fight. In court, he can be under a lot of pressure, but he is always prepared to fight and win!

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? From his mum's side, he has a big extended family, from Evergreen Harbour and Henford on Bagley! Growing up he has always wanted siblings. He loves having Isaac as a brother and they spend so much time together now! But his childhood was so lonely at home, while his mum was working and his dad always MIA before his disappearance. Vincent always went over to Billy's house to hang out with Charlie! Billy and Josh have always been his father figures, unlike his own. Now with kids, he'll do the best he can to provide a childhood full of love!

What animal represents them best? Vincent is obviously a lion and Isaac is an eagle. You know in an ecosystem there are food chains where predators catch prey. Well, they are Kingsleys, so they're the top of the "hierarchy". Think of it like they're going into enemy territory (investigating their dad or other cases) and they are bringing them down. But their dad is also a Kingsley...

What is a smell that they dislike? Any sort of science experiment chemical idk...I'm not saying anymore

Have they broken any bones? Nope

How would a stranger likely describe them? Secretive first. But that goes away to easy-going, amicable, reliable

Are they a night owl or a morning bird? Both actually

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? Hmm Vincent is a bit of a foodie and appreciates good food, he likes a lot of stuff really. Something he hates? Mint ice cream lol

Do they have any hobbies? Cooking (I've not explored it though)

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? He's all good with surprise birthday parties! Vincent would be full of gratitude to the people who took the time and effort to arrange it. He'll make sure everyone enjoys their time and divert himself from being the centre of attention haha

Do they like to wear jewelry? Ooh he likes fancy watches

Do they have neat or messy handwriting? Surprisingly quite messy. He likes typing stuff lmao

What are two emotions they feel the most? Pride, determination

Do they have a favorite fabric? As long as it's comfortable

What kind of accent do they have? British accent duh

#i should be doing it for renee smh but vincent is practically my heir. the story ive created for him is FAR MORE interesting 😌#like renee is a side character #ive already showed her background #i cant change that story and can only develop on her (character) now #there are more possibilities by making vincents story this gens focus #im not resuming postcard legacy yet sry #postcard extra #tag game #oc facts

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nekohime19 · 2 months

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Mini Mac #2 : How to lure the feral lil guy living in your walls a guide by Sun Wukong

Damn, I need to study for my exams but mini Mac is in my head, 😔

Sun Wukong has always been quite the odd ball. He was the type of person to follow his own rules, and sometimes expected people to understand those rules without truly revealing them in the first place. Azure Lion has often been troubled by the lil monkey nature. He was a merry lad one day, laughing at anything coming his way without truly minding them, and he was short-tempered another, fighting anyone daring enough to call him small (everyone in the brotherhood learned at their own risks what would happen if they ever mentioned their merry monkey size). It wasn't weird for the golden monkey to be doing something incomprehensible for the others, he spent the last week fighting with every inch of his life against a common pest for heaven sake, but he seemed particularly weird tonight.

Now, Sun Wukong was a lot of things but he was never quiet. No matter in which mood the brotherhood finds their littlest brother, he would always be loud about it. If he was in a foul mood he would complain about it until everyone's ears started bleeding (last week had been particularly hellish). If he was feeling joyous, he would shout praise and raise his glass of wine (the ones sitting around him knew to scout away everytime he was rowdy, drops of wine always flew beside him). He was an expressive lad, unable to keep his feelings for himself, perhaps because his emotions were too big for him alone.

As such it was quite surprising to see him so meek tonight. He was quietly staring at the night sky, absently swaying his glass of wine, head in his left hand, sighing now and then. Azure Lion shared a glance with Yellow Tusk, the elephant looked lost as well despite usually being the one able to discern their rowdy monkey’s feelings. Bull King seemed quite shocked himself, and perhaps a bit disappointed, Azure knew their biggest brother, contrary to many others, enjoyed when Sun Wukong was in a fighting spirit. Peng looked ready to spill what was in everyone's mind, as they usually did when no one dared to confront the Monkey King. Azure decided to intervene before they could, this seemed to be a delicate matter, not something someone as direct (for lack of a better word) as Peng could handle.

“Brother, is everything alright? Did you defeat the pest hiding in your home?” Asked Azure, hoping the mention of the pest would ignite the sage fighting spirit. However, contrary to what he thought, Sun Wukong slumped in defeat, letting his head fall against the table. The brotherhood shared a common worried glance when they heard Sun Wukong whine. It wasn't unusual for the sage to whine, but he never whined that way, so small and defeated. Azure worried for a second that the King may cry, something unheard and unseen till now.

“He's gone!” Whined the sage, almost as if he was some grieving maiden talking about her long lost husband.

“The pest?” Tried to clarify Azure, Bull King leaned over Peng and mumbled :

“Isn't this a good thing?”

“Don't ask me. I don't know what this madman is talking about half of the time.” Quietly scoffed the bird.

“You don't understand! It's been two days and I haven't caught a sign of him!” Wailed the golden monkey, he narrowed his gaze at his glass, as if it personally offended him for simply existing, and downed it.

“So you chased away the pest, and now you're sad about it?” Asked Azure with a raised eyebrow, this was getting weirder than usual, even for Sun Wukong.

“I don't know what to do to make him come back…” Mumbled the sage, cheeks flushed by the wine.

“Well…usually they like food. You said they stole some of your peaches, maybe try to lure them with that.” Proposed Yellow Task, trying to soothe the Monkey rather than understand the ways of his mind.

“That's right!” Laughed the golden monkey, he rose, so suddenly that his knee hit the table and spilled some of the wine. “Why didn't I think of food!!” Sun Wukong smiled at them and ran away with a skip in his step, almost tripping on some roots along the way.

“Well, at least we helped him.” Sighed Azure as he downed his own glass.

“One day he hates the pest, another he wants it back. Tomorrow he's gonna tell us he fell in love with it or something.” Snorted Peng with crossed arms, they all laughed at the absurdity of their comment, because surely Sun Wukong wasn't this insane.

Was he ?

***

Sun Wukong had never been the type to dwell on something, he usually forgot what bothered him after a few days. Yet he couldn't forget the face of the lil macaque even if he wanted to. It's been two days since he used the magical device his brothers gave him, two days since he discovered that a lil monkey lived in the walls of his mansion, two days since he was haunted by the face of the lil guy.

Sun Wukong searched everywhere in his mansion, he discovered a fancy new room almost each hour, but no trace of the gorgeous lil guy. He almost gave up when he noticed no peaches were stolen since the day he discovered the macaque's existence. Maybe the lil guy was afraid of him? He tried to appear less threatening and cooed at the holes in his walls with what he hoped was a reassuring voice (a few of his lil suns watched him with tilted heads and tried to imitate him but he shooed them away, not wanting to overwhelm the lil guy in his walls) but the macaque didn't even show the tip of his snout.

Yellow Tusk advice revived his vigor, an offering was a sign of good-will wasn't it ? Maybe he should let the lil guy take a step in his direction instead of ransacking his own house in the hope of getting at least one sight of him. The sage took one of his freshest peaches and cut it into tiny pieces with the tip of his claws, he then put the pieces in a large leaf and laid it in the middle of the living room. Sun Wukong hid behind his couch (or at least the wooden bench veiled by pillows he called a couch) and peeked over it, towards the leaf.

He stayed there for a good while, perfectly still, except for his wagging tail. This time he didn’t fall asleep, not wanting to miss anything. Something finally moved at dawn, a shadow slipping in the dark, almost unnoticeable in the house obscurity. Sun Wukong watched, entranced, as the lil guy's head got out of the leaf’s shadow. He narrowed his eyes at the pieces, sniffing the air suspiciously. The sage silenced the coos tickling his lips and looked quietly. The macaque left the shadow, the dawn's luster gliding on his fur. He carefully walked towards the leaf and leaned towards the peach pieces, he took one in his lil hands (the pieces the size of his palm) and brought it to his snout. He bit it after assuring everything was alright and sat before the leaf, munching on his piece with a swaying tail.

Sun Wukong thought this was the most adorable thing he ever saw, he accidently let a quiet purr stumble out of his lips. The macaque straightened, ears erect, the piece clutched in his arms, as if he was afraid someone would take it away.

“It's alright!” Shouted the King, he jumped on his feet and tried to appear as non-threatening as possible. “I just want to be friends.”

The lil macaque stopped hissing for a few seconds, his eyes went towards the peach pieces then towards the sage in a silent question.

“Yeah! It's for you!” Beamed the King, overjoyed he was making some progress with his roommate. Sun Wukong tried to take a step closer but the lil macaque immediately hissed, crouching on all-four. Panicking, the sage took a step back and the lil guy calmed down. “Okay, boundaries, got it.”

Sun Wukong silently watched as the lil guy ate some peach pieces, and stuffed others in his makeshift sling. He couldn't help but wonder how the other voice would sound, what his name was, if he even had one. Unable to keep his thoughts for himself, Sun Wukong opened his mouth and began to ramble.

“My name's Sun Wukong by the way. But I'm sure you already know it, I'm the Monkey King! You have a name?”

The macaque turned towards him and eyed him up and down, as if accessing whether he posed any threats or not.

“Macaque.” was the only thing the lil guy deigned to say, however it was enough for the sage to beam with unadulterated joy. His voice was nice, a bit squeaky, perhaps because of the size difference, but nice nevertheless.

“Macaque, that's your name?” Excitedly asked the King, voice rising with his excitement.

“You're loud.” Groaned Macaque, his lil ears folded on themselves.

“O-oh right, sorry.” Sheepishly apologized the King, one hand rubbing his neck. Macaque eyed him for a bit before muttering about “weird giant” and dipping in a flurry of shadows, disappearing from the room. “I guess I'll see you later.” Mumbled the sage in slight disappointment.

At least he had a name now! He told himself as he enjoyed how the name sounded on his lips.

#Shadowpeach #Mini Mac Au #Simp Sun Wukong #Wukong being dramatic like he's in a living k-drama #Wukong is a short king and Mac is an even shorter king #Food is the way to a lil guy heart #The brotherhood being confused but supportive #LMK

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ambrosiagourmet · 4 months

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Dunmeshi Daemon AU thoughts BECAUSE I CAN

Laios: She isn’t actually settled, though they both pretend that she is. They never stopped enjoying the flexibility of her being able to change, but during Laios’ time in the military it became clear that it just gave people another excuse to bully him, so she “settled” as a white wolf.

Before the events of the story, only Falin knows that she still changes. Kabru, however, suspects. The rest of the party finds out not long after they set out to save Falin.

After Laios becomes king, she mainly stays in the form of either a lion, a hawk, or the white wolf.

Marcille: Neither Marcille nor her parents had any idea when he would settle, which was frustrating for her, and especially hard when her dad died before it happened.

He eventually settled into a nightingale, not long after she finished Ambrosia, much to her delight. She thought it was all very romantic and grand, even if he does like to mess up her hair.

He doesn’t sing much after the events of the story, but she still tells him he is quite noble and lovely.

Mithrun: Absolutely does not have one. They got ate. Before the dungeon, they were a dove.

Thistle: He took the form of a colorful songbird once Thistle started learning to play music, and would often accompany him. Sometime during Thistle’s thousand years as lord of the dungeon, he separated from Thistle. He wandered the dungeon, spending a lot of time around the town where the people of the Golden Kingdom live. They recognized him, even long after Thistle stopped visiting.

Sometimes he would report to Thistle. Sometimes they would go years without seeing each other.

He wasn’t there for the fight with Laios’ party. Yaad thinks he saw him briefly when Thistle woke up on the surface, but he’s not sure.

Kabru: He desperately wanted her to settle as a bird (which are quite popular with elves and also good at eavesdropping) (yes, the bird imagery of the canaries is very much Part Of Elf Culture in this AU). However, she is a bengal fox. Ah, well. It’s nice to have a piece of his home stuff with him. And she does give very good snuggles.

Falin: FALIN’S IS HARD… I think she might change after the chimera.

I like a beetle for her pre-resurrection. Maybe a ladybug? Or a jewel beetle, if a ladybug is too small.

After the story, she changes to a dragonfly. Everyone (expect Chilchuck) tries very hard not to make the obvious joke there. Chilchuck just makes the joke.

Chilchuck: With his canon weight management, Chilchuck is practical-minded enough to have his job influence his daemon’s form. I think she would be a rat or mouse - something small that can help him with traps, and can fit places where he can’t.

A lot of half-foot adventurers end up with rodent daemons, actually, due to the nature of their usual work. This can be the subject of mockery from the same kinds of people who are happy to use a half-foot as monster bait (or worse). Because of this, Chilchuck doesn’t mind disparaging comments about her - they help him know who is and isn’t trustworthy. However, privately, he’s quite defensive of her.

Senshi: Though she wasn’t technically settled when he went into the dungeon with his mining group, she spent most of her time as something nocturnal and practical for their work. Maybe a badger.

By the time he finally made his way out, she had settled as a tortoise. Though he loves her, the tortoise form is harder to work around sometimes - she’s slow and she takes up a lot of space, and caring for a cold-blooded creature in the dungeon isn’t always easy.

It’s not until after he meets the party, when Laios remarks offhandedly that some tortoises can survive for months without food, that Senshi fully understands why she settled on that form.

Izutsumi: she doesn’t have a daemon. Throughout childhood, this only added to her fears about not being ‘really human,’ and exacerbated her feeling separate and Wrong.

During the encounter with the succubi, she realizes the truth - she is bound to her daemon. That’s where her beast form comes from.

Due to being bound together at a young age, they are unable to change form, and stuck as their favorite form to take at the time - a cat.

[metaphor for trauma forcing children to grow up far before they should too on the nose? No? Cool]

#man dunmeshi is so rich for this #the idea of these characters just having a bit of their SOUL on the outside is just…. it’s just….

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sepublic · 1 month

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Continuing my ramblings on Predator (1987), there's an interesting choice of cinematography when the protagonists start fighting back against their titular antagonist; Once Anna explains the Predator's schtick as a chameleon, our heroes begin making new traps meant to fool the Predator. And as they do, there's some pretty choice shots emphasizing the bulging muscles of characters like Dillon and the like. Dillon is interesting especially given he's framed as the least masculine of the guys due to being a dishonest pencil-pusher; Here, it seems as if everyone, even Dillon, is reclaiming their masculinity with this chance to fight back. With this chance to turn back the odds and restore their conventional status as action heroes.....

And then we know how it all goes down; The Predator breaks free of the trap, and kills its last four victims of the film to leave only Dutch and Anna. The Predator as a dark reflection of the characters' machismo makes more sense when you consider how he can mimic the voices of the others, and the wound that puts him down is identical to that of his final victim Poncho; Both are felled by a log trap.

From the perspective of the Predator, other characters' voices become noticeable high-pitched; I wonder if this is, in a way, meant to show how even a badass like Dutch is 'feminized' in the eyes of the Yautja. The line between Predator and the protagonists is further blurred when Dutch achieves his own form of cloaking that is also sabotaged when he comes into contact with water; He learns to fight more like the Predator, relying on stealth, ambush, and the environment around him to hide and attack. So now the Predator becomes the hunted too. Its final words are to repeat Dutch's only lines back at him before laughing in Billy's hearty voice.

You know that one post circulating around here, where people joke about what if the Predator was more the exception to his home's culture, rather than the norm? What if he was the Yautja equivalent to bored middle-class dudes who decide to go on a hunting trip for fun, to collect trophies from lions and other animals that are otherwise harmless and victimized, to flex how 'badass' he is? And meanwhile everyone else back home is rolling their eyes because what a loser. What if that's really just what the Predator is meant to symbolize, in the context of the original film at least; People who like to kill and hunt to show off how masculine they are.

But in the end, it's quite easy and cowardly, arguably, to rely on a cloaking device, whilst sniping oblivious targets from afar. Beforehand, I wonder if we could take into account how animals are treated by the human protagonists beforehand; One of the characters kicking a bird aside, Mac stabbing a scorpion. Them flexing their macho attitudes by killing an animal that for all intents and purposes is pretty helpless against the one who gets it. And then the roles are reversed where the human protagonists become the game for the Predator to make trophies out of.

I find it fascinating Dutch's reaction when Mac admits that Blain was his friend; You get the sense that this is quite uncharacteristic a thing for Mac to do. Nowadays it seems like a pretty obvious and understandable thing for any guy to do, but for someone like Mac, it IS quite the confession of emotional vulnerability here. Plus there's Poncho being a sad sopping wet cat for the rest of the film, once Hawkins is the first to die.

If Predator is a slasher film, then it subscribes to its own version of the rules, just as it has its own version of a 'final girl' in muscled badass Dutch, played by Arnold Schwarzenegger. You know how those who have premarital sex die first? It seems Predator operates on similar rules; Hawkins makes crude jokes about female genitalia and is killed first. Blain calls everyone else the f-slur and proclaims his own sexual prowess, in addition to being your typical badass macho man who's too tough to feel pain, and then he's unceremoniously killed off pretty early too. This is despite, or rather because of, being the "big guy" who wields a giant mini-gun.

Mac and Billy are stoic, but Mac unravels psychologically and sings lyrics about objectifying a woman shortly before his death, and Billy remains rattled throughout by the Predator's presence, even openly admitting to Poncho that he's afraid. And of course there's Poncho, who is on the verge of tears 24/7 once the movie's genre shifts, voice constantly wavering.

On a final note, one could be half-joking about homoerotic undertones between Mac and Blain, at least on Mac’s end. Which could be an interesting discussion in and of itself when you also account for Blain’s use of the f-slur and how he’s the most stereotypically masculine of the group. Because I know the military is known for being a place where homosexuality was often discovered and explored. How would that factor into the larger themes of masculinity in this film, I wonder?

#predator 1987 #yautja #predator #analysis #mac eliot #al dillon #jorge poncho ramirez #blain cooper #rick hawkins #billy sole

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mintaikcorpse · 3 months

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Analyzing the Circus & Biblical Elements in Hellaverse: Asmodeus

And other things, I guess

The embodiment of Lust, one of the most dangerous sins in Mythology, your demon hoste, Asmodeus!

Something I absolutely love about the sins designs is the fact that they're all animals, with Lucifer being the only human one. It really adds to the whole circus element. But, while Ozzie is a chicken, I really also want to talk about the demonic aspects as well and why his design works for him!

Why Asmodeus is a Rooster

The first reason is because another word for Rooster is cock, so the Ruler of the Lust Ring is a giant cock. And, in this world, all the Goetia Demons are birds.

ANYWAYS, there's also other reasons why he's a cock (Im not calling them roosters anymore). In general, cocks symbolize masculinity, pride, enthusiasm, strength, honesty, and most importantly for Big O, sexuality. Makes sense, though. For farming, the entire point of roosters is to protect and mate with the females. And while Ozzie is most likely pan, and he's dating a dude, his entire thing is still sex.

The masculinity and pride element is there as well. Stereotypically, masculinity is being really buff and dominant. Ozzie is literally a king and is buff as hell (I still wonder why his arms shrink sm when he's in his regular outfit. Maybe Fizz is right about him being really good at "squeezing things in."

But, it also doesn't just mean physical strength, it can also refer to mental strength as well. And, let's be real here, Ozzie is one of the most mentally healthy characters in this show.

Strength can also be used for protection, and since roosters protect hens, it could also be seen with how Ozzie is very protective of Fizz and is also one of the few sins we've seen who seems to somewhat care about his citizens. From what we've seen of Lust, it's one of the safer and healthier rings to live in. Ozzie is shown to be very prideful of his sin as well, so it makes sense that he'd want to protect the people who feel lust and live in the Lust Ring, which is why he also despises noncon stuff. (I've heard some people say him not liking noncon stuff doesn't make sense bcuz that's the prime of lust, but SA is more wrath and greed than lust.)

But, his pride for his sin is the next thing. Roosters are prideful, and Ozzie is very prideful of his Ring and his work, and his club. Also, this is probably just a coincidence, but did you know that Lust & Pride were some of the most dangerous sins in mythology? I think it's bcuz they both alienate from God or smthn like that. I Kinda like these 2 overlapping for that reason.

Another thing: did you know that he's also a moth, which is why he has the fluff an antenna? Kolkocat on YouTube said that Vaggie is a moth bcuz of "women if the night referring to prostitution" (she was theorizing about her death, btw), and I think that fits. Val's a moth for the same reason. I also think the fluff could be lion related since they're also symbolized as kings.

Demon Elements

Asmodeus & Mammon are one of the two characters I've seen that look the most like their biblical counterparts, so talking about their designs is the most fun.

We've all noticed that Ozzie has three heads, right? That's actually from his biblical design!

This is from The Lesser Key of Solomon Book!

Honestly, I have no idea why he looks so fucking ugly. My Christian friend theorizes that it's because it's supposed to show that Lust is an ugly sin, and while I absolutely love that explanation, it probably means nothing, considering it was the 1500s and they just wanted to make demons look as ugly as possible so people wouldn't fall into sin.

But, I love how semlesy they incorporated the horse head and goat head into his design. Though, in the show, I think it's a gost head instead of a horse head. God, I need to talk about Bull and Goat symbolism now, don't I?

Bulls are interesting. They symbolize strength, but they also symbolize fertility. And, like cocks, they're also primarily used by farmers to mate with the females (his design really just fucking screams "HEY LOOK! HES THE EMBODIMENT OF LUST! HE FUCKS A LOT! DO YOU UNDERSTAND???")

Goats are easy. They symbolize the devil so much. Hell, the demon Baphomet is litterally just a winged goat. They're also commonly associated with demons bcuz of their eyes and horns. But they also symbolize another thing which is, you guessed it! FERTILITY.

Circus Elements

Actually going back tho the title elements, wooh! (I'm so sorry for getting off topic on all of these).

In a Tweet, Vivzie mentions that all the sins represent a Circus Act, with Bee being an animals trainer which is why she has so many hoops on her design and in her mansion. Ayy Lmao on YouTube theorizes that for Asmodues, he is a dancer and trapeze artist since his club has so many dance and trapeze things.

But, bcuz I'm a chatty little bitch, I want to add to this.

I think Ozzie could be seen as a secondary ringmaster to Lucifer. Yes, he's obviously a pimp, but his outfit reminds me of a cool, modern ringmaster, especially with the tophat, boots, and glowing suit.

It makes sense as well because his entire club has a Circus theme to it. And, again, Lust & Pride are said to be the most dangerous sins. Perhaps Lucifer communicated with him the most about Hell.

Also, bcuz I won't get to the others for a while, he also said theorized about this for the other sins

Satan (wrath): Strongman bcuz his app is a weight lifting app, Bee mentions his abs, and it makes sense the sin of Wrath would be Strong.

Mammon: Obviously a clown

Belphagor (sloth): He said contortionist since her ring has to do with Healthcare, but this person pointed this out, and I like this theory a lot better

Leviathan (envy): He chose Magician for them because they would want to conjure things that they don't have.

Thanks for coming to my messy essay that would make my English teacher cry in shame at the things she has failed to teach me :)

#helluva boss notes #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #helluverse #helluva boss #hazbin hotel notes #asmodeus #helluva boss asmodeus #asmodeus helluva boss

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quitealotofsodapop · 5 months

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One thing I don't think is mentioned enough is the fact that during the journey, a lot of Celestials took the opportunity to just... outright FUCK around with Wukong. Like, they'd send all sorts of demons their way intentionally just to intervene and say "Oh hey! You found my favorite pet!" Even Guanyin hadn't been innocent of this considering she had this huge fit over her pet goldfish. And if they weren't using their pets they were finding other methods to delay or otherwise force the Pilgrims off the beaten path and into danger out of some sort of test, spite, or pettiness.

Now, think about how in the both JTTW and Slow Boiled au Wukond actually was pregnant or not during the journey, and in Century au, the Heavenly Court BELIEVE he was pregnant. So imagine how those guys feel after they decided to fuck with Wukong put of spite and found out they unknowingly were stressing a pregnant monkey out!?

Yeah! Characters like Gold Star hide their identities to aid the main characters, while some are just... doing it for fun? Are they LARP-ing? And Monkey has Gold-Vision; why does he always not recognise these people even from his Celestial days?

Guanyin set up a whole honey trap knowing that half the squad ain't into it, and dropped the gang on their way home cus they missed 1 story event. The abbey with the Ginseng tree were pretty rude af. The Buddha's own servants tried to fleece the gang of the scriptures. Multiple kingdoms suffered cus King Who-Care shot somebody's bird-cousin, or knocked over a table of offerings. And the 28 Lunar Mansions took almost 13 years to realise that the Wood Wolf was missing.

Lao Tzu's lab assisants literally run off with his stuff and become demon lords for lulz (or they were the assisants that let the Rhino King/Buffalo out and were scared that they'd get in trouble). And lets not forget RHINO KING. Bruh, you somehow lost track of a gotdang celestial Bull-Rhino!?

Guanyin's not immune from this; TWO of her pets became horrific demons (Goldfish and Sai Taisui) and are arguably the most irredeemable of all the villains faced.

Lady Earth Flow/Albino Rat/Bat spirit is even described as Li Jing's adoptive daughter - how the f that happen?? How did he lose track of a whole kid so bad that she became a vampire-esque demon?

Manjusri let their cat (Azure Lion) out TWICE. And they cursed the Wuji kingdom for tossing them in a sewer for preeching.

After a point, I'd imagine Wukong in the stone egg aus would just throw his hands up and start yelling at the gods directly. He's even bolder in the Jttw Stone Egged au given that he has Macaque as back-up.

You know that chapter where Rhino King steals all of the Heavenly Army's powers and weapons, and the immortals are all infighting so hard that Wukong has to be the voice of reason?

Imagine a tiny hormonal monkey just going nuts at these gods. He's screaming in their faces. He's demanding Nezha lift him up so he can look General Li Jing in the eye. He's telling them what good are they as fighters if they only feel safe with their weapons and powers? Wukong has a *damn* good reason he ain't taking on Rhino King in a 1-v-1 rn, whats all these gods excuse?!

The gods are too surprised and intimidated to argue back. And you better believe a certain alchemist is getting a smack for letting a whole animal loose from his lab.

#slow boiled stone egg au #jttw stone egged au #sun wukong #pregnancy tw #lmk #lego monkie kid #journey the west #jttw

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prolix-yuy · 1 year

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In honor of your Bangathon, I spun the wheel 🤣

So we have froggy style with *drum roll* none other than our warm, feral racoon man Dieter Bravo. And we just need that sultry foul mouth.

I'm so excited for all the drabble that are going to come of this.

Lovely Britt! It is the penultimate day of the Bangathon and I've thrown all my rules out the window. Dieter double feature, absolutely obliterating my word count, and I'm having way too much fun with it. Let's get froggy with our raccoon boy!

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Position: Froggy Style

Word Count: 2656 (it's 12:45am, there are no gods, no one can save me)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, fingering (f receiving), PiV sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk, public sex, sex parties, mentions of fetish play.

Notes: This idea came to me in a dream and I had to write it, word count be damned! Technically I'm spoiling the ending with just the pairing, but I'm sure you would have guessed it instantly either way. Let's go!

“This is a little too Eyes Wide Shut for me,” you tell your friend Ana as she urges you through the front door of a Hollywood mansion. Your voice is muffled by the mask you wear, black lace molded to look like a cat. Only your eyes are visible, held on with a thick ribbon tied behind your head. Ana is sporting a rabbit mask, maybe a little on the nose for the occasion but you could appreciate the honesty.

“Then why did you accept my invitation?” she asks, all smug grace and poise in the skimpy red dress she matched to her disguise. You’re more akin to a kitten, steps uncertain and timid as you take in the room and all its inhabitants.

It had been too tempting, one of Ana’s fellow actors inviting her out to a “masquerade.” When she saw your eyes widen, heat rising in your cheeks, she made a phone call and extended your own invitation. It would have been rude to deny. But now, co-mingling with people who would never know you in the outside world, it all feels like a bad idea.

Men and women alike are masked, some more on display than others. One fox woman is in barely-there lingerie, a falcon man in low-slung gray sweatpants and nothing else. Your skin tingles in anticipation, the long black dress hugging your form a comfort against the tickle of eyes.

“If you get cold feet, just leave before the selection,” Ana says, stepping away from you to grab a couple glasses of champagne. You’re about to question how you’ll drink it when you see golden straws circling the lip.

“They thought of everything,” you murmur, eliciting a chuckle from her.

“Anything catch your eye?” she says salaciously, and you bat her away before surveying the room. Many wolves and lions, a few birds of prey, some dog masks that look suspiciously close to fetish gear. Bodies of all types, but nothing that stood out enough to make you salivate.

“We’ll see,” you say as a chime sounds and the crowd moves deeper into the house. Ana walks next to you, head turning to take in the potentials. You keep yours tilted up, admiring the fresco on the ceiling and trying to ground yourself.

“It’s a pretty good replica, but the real thing is better,” says a deep male voice next to your shoulder.

“The blue is really vibrant,” you reply, “Looks like they followed traditional techniques.”

“Only the best for our esteemed hosts,” he muses, making a smile come to your hidden lips.

“Not a fan?” you tease, an entryway coming into view.

“I would never say an unkind word about those that invite me in their home,” the man says with faux adoration, “but yes, they're extremely tacky and most of their art is fake.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you laugh, turning to see who’s speaking but no one is directly behind you anymore. He must have melted into the crowd. You’re about to ask Ana if she saw him when you come to a bottleneck, two darkly dressed attendants speaking to each guest.

“Are you open to being chosen tonight?” the bright-eyed woman to your right says, holding out a red string bracelet. You swallow hard.

“Yes.”

She affixes the string around your wrist, letting you enter the open courtyard. Silver stars twinkle in the indigo sky, braziers lit around the room offering warmth and golden light. A group of guests, mostly male-presenting, gather in the middle of the courtyard. Around the peripheries, mixed company lounge on crisp white couches in various poses of seduction. You settle on one, letting Ana wander away.

Once guests stopped filing in, another chime sounds and the group begins thinning out. Some remain, nodding to companions or conversing. The majority wander the perimeter, extending hands or sitting beside their choices.

Anxiety wells in your throat. What was someone supposed to choose you for? You’re among the Hollywood twelves, smuggled in by your connections. What would they want with your cheap dress and cheaper tastes? What could they judge from a glance?

Suddenly, there’s a hand extended before you.

“Would you care to be chosen, gatita?”

The voice is familiar, the same man from before. Putting visuals to him is more powerful than you thought. He’s in silk pajamas, white and tan with beautiful renditions of bare-branched trees poking up from red and green brush. You even spy some hunting dogs pointing at invisible prey. Covering his face is a brass-colored raccoon mask, tied with red ribbon. His eyes are dark pools behind it, a halo of wild chocolate curls framing the edges. As much as you want to laugh at the raccoon mask, something about it on this man curls excitement in your stomach. It reminds you less of cute animal videos you send to your friends, more of glittering eyes in the dead of night, and the fear of a vicious bite.

You extend your hand, and his palm is soft and large under yours. “Can it be…private?” you ask, already glimpsing the bold undressing of some guests, others watching on.

“As the lady wishes,” he concedes, leading you away from the crowd. As you ascend a set of stairs, you converse again.

“Why do the hosts have so much fake artwork?”

He snorts, keeping your hand in his.

“Because it’s expected. Big house has to be full of priceless art. But you can’t have priceless art in every house, so you compromise. Say it’s on loan, from a museum, from a friend. A grand lie they all pretend to believe.”

“And what’s in your house?” you ask, reaching the top of the stairs. He pauses, eyes roaming you appreciatively.

“Knew I picked a clever one,” he says, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. “Only originals. My own.” He leads you around a catwalk and down a hall with several doors.

“So you’re an artist?” you ask, stroking your thumb along his. It makes him squeeze your hand back.

“Among other things,” he murmurs before stopping in front of a door with a tag hanging off the handle. Pocketing it, he enters the bedroom, locking the door behind you.

It’s too lavish, an abundance of velvet and ruffles that makes you smirk at the raccoon’s earlier comments. He steps in and stands at the foot of the bed, waiting for you to follow. The bravery you’d mustered earlier evaporates when the door shuts, and now you hover by the edge of the bed.

“Gatita, if this isn’t what you want, I’ll leave. It’s only fun if we’re both having it.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head, stepping closer. His hands come up to smooth over your arms, moving to cup the back of your neck. Tugging you into his broad chest, his fingers find your zip and pull it ever so slightly.

“Would you like to know what I want to do to you?” he breathes in your ear, and you manage a weak yes before he starts unzipping your dress tooth by tooth.

“I’m going to remove this dress, and tease your nipples through your bra before taking it off - one handed, of course. Then I’ll lay you back and pleasure your pretty pussy with my fingers until you’re begging for my cock. Once you’re ready to explode I’ll join you in the bed and put you on all fours so I can hit deep and hard inside you. Make you cum on my dick once, then do it again. Maybe even get you to squirt if you’ve never done that. After all that, if you’re very good for me, I’ll keep making you cum all night. How does that sound?”

Could you actually orgasm from his voice alone? You sincerely worry you will as your dress slips to the floor, leaving you in your prettiest lingerie pressed against his intoxicating silks.

“What about the masks?” you manage to get out, the stiff covering starting to itch against your overheated face.

“Let’s leave them on for now. The mystery is half the fun,” he says, hands sliding up to cup your breasts and thumb lightly at your peaked nipples. You gasp, letting your head roll back.

“Oh, gatita, I’ll make you feel so good tonight.”

True to his word, the raccoon touches and teases you within an inch of your sanity, talented fingers caressing every erogenous zone until you’re aching and shaking with need. You swear if he even circles your clit once you’ll cum so hard you’ll need an ambulance. Want and desire burns hot in your veins, hands searching for his skin and only getting small touches. The caress of your fingers along the open expanse of his chest. Fingers entwining as he presses you down into the mattress. The skin across his lower back. He keeps just far enough away to tease, but always close enough to work you to dizzying heights.

“Please,” you whimper after the umpteenth time he’s worked you up and stopped before you could crest. Tilting his head, he leaves another featherlight touch over your clit.

“Ask me for it,” he gruffs out, voice even deeper with desire. “Ask me to fuck you. Ask me to be inside you.”

The words tumble out of your lips. “Please fuck me, please, any way you want. I need to feel you inside me, need to cum around you. You’ll feel so good, I’ll make you feel so good…” You could beg for hours more but he’s turning you over and moving you up the bed, settling on his knees behind you. Tugging your hips, he lifts you to crouch, hands on the bed and feet planted under bent knees. The position is new to you, but the control you feel like this, hearing the condom wrapper rip and the pops of the last few buttons on his shirt, is thick in your veins.

“Tilt your hips,” he orders, and you arch your back to offer your needy cunt to him. He stretched you well on his fingers, but just the snug fit of his head pressing inside you widens your eyes.

“Fuck, you’re big,” you gasp, earning a soothing stroke over your hips.

“Sure know how to make my cock even harder, gatita. Say it again.”

You whine through your teeth as he sinks further in, stroking two fingers over your clit.

‘“Fuck, you’re so big, my pussy’s full of you, I don’t know how it’s gonna fit inside me but fuck, I want it.” The end rushes out as he shallowly fucks into you, letting you adjust to his girth.

“Oh gatita, don’t worry, I’ll make it fit,” he promises, rolling his hips even deeper. Your arms shake with the effort of holding yourself up, mask hot and sticky with sweat as you pant into the fabric. You want nothing more than to rip it off and let him devour you, whoever he may be.

Finally, he’s fully seated and you’re delirious with how stuffed you are. One slow stroke out makes you grip the sheets, waiting for him to fill you again.

He's not making you wait any longer. The pace is firm, steady to start, working you around his cock and soaking him with your arousal. Your calves begin to burn but you pay no mind, instead using the leverage to push back against him. He groans at this, helping guide your hips with his hot touch.

“Fuck, your pussy is goddamn divine, squeezing me so tight. I’m gonna make you cum around me and then I’ll give you what you deserve.” Your head spins as he speeds up, every thrust angled right into your g-spot with mind-blowing accuracy. Gathering slick from your dripping cunt, he circles your clit steadily as you clamp down on him, the precipice of your orgasm right at your fingertips.

“Oh fuck I’m cumming,” you squeak before your knees give out, arms buckling as you tumble into the pillows with every nerve ending singing his praises. He’s firm behind you, murmuring how good of a girl you are, how good you’re cumming on him, how hard he has to try not to cum yet. The praise melts you down into barely perceiving a world outside the pleasures of your body.

Once the aftershocks subside, your cunt even tighter around his throbbing cock, the man speaks.

“That was so good, gatita. Now hold on.” At that he begins well and truly fucking you, deep and fast with snarls dripped onto your skin. You half expect to feel a bite, but only his fingers dig in to your thighs to keep you pressed tight against him. You let him use your pussy, content just to feel him pulse inside, when his fingers return to your clit.

“Did you think I was done with this?” he pants, teasing the sensitive bud from overstimulation back to drenching pleasure as he coaxes another orgasm to the surface. “Together this time, on five, four, three…”

You can’t believe this man is going to orchestrate your orgasm, but just as he’s nearing one you feel the telltale tingle erupt into molten fire filling your lungs with a wild shout. He’s shouting too, buried in your cunt and shuddering. It takes long minutes for you both to catch your breaths, white spots dancing around the edge of your vision. Finally he eases out, tugging your knees back to lay you down. You welcome the change, body relaxing as you hear him throw out the condom and return with tissues.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” you say, still a little loopy from all the endorphins flooding your brain. The raccoon man chuckles as you turn and sit up, admiring him standing in those designer pajamas, bottoms pulled up but top still open. Your mind wanders to kissing every inch of his chest, sucking a hickey into his collarbone. A small fear in your chest, unknown even to you, falls away.

“I’d like to take the mask off,” you say, looking up at the raccoon man. His hands falter, coming to his waist and tapping nervously.

“Are you sure?” he asks, trepidation in his voice. You nod.

“It’s okay, I’m a nobody,” you say, hands on the ribbon behind your head.

“I’m not,” he says quietly, stilling your motions. He’s turning away from you, tense and anxious. You know the feeling.

“You don’t have to. I won’t ask you to. But I'm okay with you knowing me.” You tug at the ribbons and let the cat mask fall away. You skin can finally breathe, making you sigh in relief. The raccoon’s eyes snap to you, and all the hard lines of his body soften.

“You’re...more beautiful than I hoped,” he says, awe in his voice. It makes your skin heat up again, a shy smile fighting on your face. It was kind of sweet, the idea that this stranger would know you for only this night, and that it could be your secret. Even your face would be his and his alone.

Then his hands lift to the back of his head, and the racoon mask comes away in his palms.

A blink. Then two. Then shock paints your face.

Did Dieter fucking Bravo just ruin your pussy?

But he’s kneeling on the bed and kissing you breathless, tearing the rest of his clothes off, and you remember the night’s still very young.

Maybe you could share a few more secrets.

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

#dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x female reader #the bubble fanfiction #the bubble fic #prolix fics

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novasdarling · 2 years

Text

Blood and Feathers

Kinktober 2022

Harpy! Keigo/Hawks x Reader

TW: Stalking, Death, Mutilated body, Blood, Predator vs. Prey Dynamics, Chase, Monster(Harpy).

Hiking wasn't something you were too fond of. Especially when it came to terrain like this. Rocky, heavily covered by trees, and animals that were ready to kill you at any moment. Nevertheless, here you were. Hiking up the side of a mountain to get an excellent view for your campsite. All for your friend's birthday. She had begged everyone for an experience over a gift. Wanting to make memories together rather than simply spending money on something. You'll admit, a good idea if not for the fact she forgot you and most of your friends weren't as athletic as her. That you guys weren't as experienced as her when it came to hiking and camping. Yet, none of you had the heart to explain it to her when she told you about this hiking trip a few weeks ago. All you guys could do was hope that she'd pick an easy trail. A hope that was squashed when the car pulled up to the bottom of the mountain.

"Claudia, how much longer till we're at our campsite?"

It was Louis, he sounded out of breath. A feeling all of you could relate to. It felt like hours had gone by like this mountain was never-ending. The worst was that the trees had become so dense. You guys could only catch a glimpse of how far the top was every so often.

"Just a bit more."

"You said that an hour ago."

"I mean it this time."

"Can we please take a break?"

Another one of your other friends was barely able to walk anymore. Forgetting to bring proper hiking shoes.

"Fine."

Everyone slumped down at Claudia's words. Thankful to have any bit of rest they could get. It was amazing to see how Claudia could just keep going. Barely having any sweat on her. Acting as if she was on a causal stroll and not hiking up a giant mountain that seemed to not have an end.

"Uh, just be careful. The area surrounding the campsite have some animals that sometimes attack. So stay in the group and on that path."

"Like foxes."

Claudia gave Louis a look as if to say 'yes I'm giving you this warning for foxes'. Everyone else knew she probably meant bears or mountain lions.

The break was cut short, Claudia kept you guys moving again. Wanting to get to the campsite before night. Once again bringing up the danger of the animals. She seemed oddly worried about the mountain. As if the animals would really be willing to attack such a large group of people. Then again, she was the wildlife expert out of the group.

"Umm, how safe is the campsite if this mountain is crawling with animals?"

"They seem to stay away from the campsite. According to the rangers, they associate the campsite with people after all these years so they stay away." Claudia gave Austin a smile before turning around to look at Louis. "Though local legends says how there's this giant bird-like creature that lives at the very top that scares the animals off. Feeding on anything it can find."

Claudia couldn't help but laugh. Seeing Louis look so scared obviously made her happy. While the rest of you felt pity for him and wondered how the hell you guys managed to get roped into this.

It wasn't long until your group reached the campsite. Claudia was finally right about it not being far off. Half the group fell to the floor. Exhausted from the hike. Yet as Claudia began to unload the tents. They realized there was still much more to do. Which took over an hour due to none of you, but Claudia knowing how to pitch a tent. Luckily the sun seemed to have sympathy for you. Staying in the sky till you guys had shelter. The fire followed soon behind. After some time relaxing and catching your breath. You could admit, Claudia was right. The view from the campsite was spectacular. Looking down the side of the mountain, seeing the tops of the trees. Then the lights at the bottom of the mountain. Probably from the few shops and houses you guys had passed. They seemed a lot further than you thought. How far had you guys gone from the local road?

"Hello"

The new voice broke you out of your admiration. Turning around you noticed it was a ranger.

"Who here is Claudia?"

The ranger looked over Claudia's ID, going over the paperwork and protocol. Fire safety, what to do in an emergency, and animal safety.

"Just a word of advice. Stay away from the wooded areas right before and after dusk. Some of the animals get pretty bold around that time."

The look on poor Louis' face. It was clear camping wasn't his thing. Being out in nature in general seemed to be something he wasn't too fond of.

After the ranger left, your group decided to have a late night. Cooking dinner on the fire. Having a few drinks and sharing some stories. It had been a while since the group had been able to come together like this. All busy with your own lives, school and jobs. It was nice to finally catch up. Even if you guys had to lose your body weight in sweat getting up the mountain in order to do so.

"How'd you find this place? It's pretty far from the city."

You were curious. You knew Claudia went hiking and camping a lot as a child, but she never mentioned doing it this far out from your city.

"Oh, my mom's friend used to live in the town at the bottom and she was there the last time I visited home. Talking about selling her parent's home near the mountain and got me thinking. Why not go camping."

"Well, she wasn't wrong. Even I have to admit the view is nice." Louis agreed.

"However, it was the stories she told that made me want to come. She was the one that told me about the local stories about the giant bird."

"Oh God no." Louis couldn't have a moment of peace with Claudia.

"Apparently, centuries ago the town used to have to hunt them. The monster would fly into town and steal sheep, cattle and even kids. Leaving the bones in its nest and along the mountain."

"Well, there goes my sleep tonight."

You knew poor Louis wouldn't be able to get much sleep tonight. Not at the thought of something lurking in the trees. His own shadow scared him, let alone the idea that things would be watching him if he went out for a pee at night.

The next few days went well. You guys were able to hike a bit higher up the mountain. Making it to a hidden waterfall. It wasn't huge, but it was gorgeous. Mossy rocks frame the waterfall. Large oak trees completely surrounded it, creating some shade both in and out of the water. The leaves were beginning to turn red. Odd as it wasn't autumn, rather it was still far off. But you couldn't deny how beautiful it looked.

The water wasn't too deep in most areas. Allowing you guys to stand and swim. Yet, of course, Claudia, Sarah and Avi managed to find deep enough areas for them to jump into. Climbing as high as they could before jumping off. There was no one else around. Letting you guys enjoy this marvel all to yourselves. You'd come every day for the few days that you were there. Stay for a few hours, swim, wander, and sunbathe in the small areas where the sun showed.

It wasn't until the second day that things felt different. The area was still as beautiful, yet it felt different. Which didn't make sense. The water was the same, and the trees were still covering most of the falls. Everything was technically the same, but it wasn't. It felt different, you felt uneasy. It was unexplainable. The feeling got worse as the days went on. You assumed perhaps it was someone watching you guys. That there was another campsite nearby and they were watching. But when you asked Claudia, she stated there was no other campsite this close to yours or the falls. Especially since the falls were away from the "safe" campgrounds. It was strange, but nothing you couldn't ignore in order to enjoy your time out.

It was nearing the end of your stay. This was the last full day and night. Soon you'd be forced back to the city and back to your regular life. Your group decided to visit the falls one last time, which you didn't mind. One last goodbye. One last day of fun and relaxation.

"We should come back here for my birthday again."

Louis and a few other friends gave each other a look. A look of dread at the idea of climbing up the mountain again.

"I wouldn't mind that. The view and the falls kinda make up for the hike." Your words brought a smile to Claudia's face.

"Okay, so next year maybe we come back." Claudia started climbing up the side of the falls, trying to find a good rock to jump off of.

A rustle from the trees grabbed your attention. Trying to see where it came from. Maybe a bird? No, it was too much activity to be a bird. All you could see what the red and yellow of the tree leaves. You waited for something to move again, but it didn't happen. The leaves just slightly rustled with the wind.

"Umm... Did you guys hear that?"

"Hear what?"

No one heard or saw anything and no animal came out. No birds flew away. It was odd. The wind wasn't that strong, but everyone went back to enjoying the falls. You put the rustle of the leaves at the back of your mind and enjoyed the falls for the last day. Trying to use your last day to the best you could.

The last night was bittersweet. Sweet since you all would be in your own beds soon instead of the rocky ground. Bitter as you would have to leave such a marvel in order to go back to your normal life.

The group decided a bonfire would be a fantastic way to spend your last night. Make one bigger than the other nights. Cook some hot dogs and smores. Stare at the stars one last time. It was going to be a relaxing night before you guys would have to pack up the next morning and head back home. Luckily you guys still had a majority of leftover larger logs from the other fire night. But you would still need some kindling to add to the fire. You set off to collect some branches and twigs. Carrying as many as you could.

As you collected, you paid less attention to where you were going. Not realizing you were heading further into the woods than you should of. Leaving the clearing of the campgrounds. Leaving the safety of your group. Your mind was too busy focusing on collecting materials for the fire and trying to carry them. It wasn't until you heard something behind you, a crack of twigs on the floor that your mind was pulled elsewhere. Assuming it was one of your friends who were also out collecting twigs, you turned. The sight in front of you proved you wrong. Making you drop your collection in fear and shock. Instead of seeing a familiar face coming to collect you. There in front of you stood a tall figure. Like something out of a Greek myth. It had a human face, but as your eyes trailed down his neck. The human appearance ended. Its skin was covered by dark red feathers. Covering its torso and arms. Trailing all over its body. It was already much bigger than you, but when it spread its wings. Encompassing your sight. Forcing you to only see red, to only see it. Those beautiful trees you had once been surrounded by suddenly disappeared.

You had never seen anything like it. It appeared so bird-like, yet human at the same time. Its arms were moving, scratching at its head. As if curious and confused about what it was seeing. Your body froze, gazing at the creature gaping back at you. Taking a step back, trying to create some form of distance between the two of you. Only for it to mimic your movements. Trying to keep close. Stretching out its wings even more. As if to block your way fully. What was it? Your mind racked for some answer. There had to be something. An explanation of what this thing was. How something like this existed. Of why there was a human-like creature towering over you. Covered in feathers and possessing wings.

It wasn't that far from you, a few feet at most. Looking around you tried to gauge your best options. It was blocking your way straight back to your camp. The only other available route was behind you, deeper into to forest. Higher up the mountain. There was no other choice. It looked fast meaning it would probably get you no matter what. But why give it an easier time. If you went to the sides you would be closer to it and give it a better opportunity to grab you. Your only hope for getting away and surviving was to go deeper.

Giving one last look at the beast before you. Deciding there was no use waiting and staring. Giving it a chance to attack first. You bolted deeper into the woods. Jumping over every rock and branch. Ignoring the scratches and pain you received from the bushes and trees. It didn't matter, not when something worse was lurking behind you. All you had to was focus on running. Putting as much distance between the two of you before trying to figure out a way back to the camp to warn the others. Running as fast as your legs would let you go. Pushing yourself further and further. There had to be a way to get away and back to your friends. You couldn't die out here. You had to get away.

Your feet were burning. Trying to push through it, avoiding any low branches and roots. Tripping or falling would determine your doom. Your original plan of keeping track of where you were and where to go was soon abandoned. The woods all looked the same. Every tree, every bush, and every twig all looked the same.

Where were you? Was it still behind you? Why hadn't it caught you yet? After all, you had been running for so long. It didn't look like it was slow. Taking a moment to look behind you, you stopped when you realized it wasn't there anymore. Nothing was following you. You were alone. Perhaps you had lost it. Taking a few more moments to look back at the trees. Seeing if you could spot it hiding above, but there was nothing. It was gone.

It was odd to be alone in the woods now, after running for so long. All you could hear was the wind and your panting. Trying to catch your breath after running for so long. How far had you gone? How long had you been running? Would turning back be the right thing? The deeper you went into the woods the worse it would be. Turning back wouldn't be safe either. The monster could still be there. Waiting for you. Still watching. There was no right answer. Neither one would guarantee safety. Weighing your options, you went for getting back to the camp. Numbers meant safety, right? There would be more people to help you. It was the best of the worst. Even if it was still lurking nearby. It was obvious you wouldn't be getting away from it after all this time. At least in this way, you could maybe get back to them.

Taking a few more moments to catch your breath, you then headed back. You didn't have it in you to begin running again. Taking your time trying to figure out the route that led you here. Hoping it would lead you back. Trying to remember what you had passed. That tree did look familiar, but then again so did the others leading the opposite way. They all looked the same. How could you tell what you had passed on your way? Everything looked the exact same.

Not only were you lost, but every little thing made you paranoid. Every tiny sound made you snap your head in its direction. Scared that the beast was going to come back, to finish you off. Any snap of twigs or shake of trees made you flinch. You had never experienced this level of fear before. It was coursing through your whole body. Your anxiety kept climbing higher and higher as the sound continued. Only getting worse when the light from the sky began to fade away. It was like you were a child again. Seeing the light shine through your window at night from the street lights. Creating shadows in your room. Convincing yourself the boogeyman was there against your wall. Or that the pile of clothes was actually a monster peering at you, waiting for you to fall asleep before it struck. You wanted it to go away. To be out of the woods, to be with your friends again. Have a chance of actually getting out. Even though you weren't running back yet, you felt more exhausted than you did before. Your heart was pounding harder now. The anxiety forcing it to work over time. The fact it was going to be dark soon didn't help. The only thing you had on your side now was the sunlight, though soon it would leave.

You only realized you had found your way back when you heard one of your friends calling your name, it sounded like Austen. A light flashed from where your name was being called.

"I-I'm here."

The light flashed in your eyes, blinding you as the person came running towards you. It was Austen. Once he saw you he lowered his light. Letting you be able to actually see him.

"Wh-where did you- are you okay?"

He sounded worried. Seeing how dark it was you understood why. You had left when it was still light. They probably thought you had fallen and broken an ankle somewhere.

"We have to leave."

"What? We were worried sick. W-We thought you-"

"I said we have to leave." You had grabbed his shirt. Staring into his eyes. Pleading for him to listen.

"Calm down. Let's just get you back."

You tried to get him to hear you out, but instead, he tried to calm you down. Stating you were probably just scared of getting lost. Austin had wrapped his arm around you, leading you back to where you assumed the campsite was. He hushed you when you tried to explain what you had seen. Why you were out for so long. None of it was being heard. All he did was give comforting hums and nods as he led you away.

The rest of the group slowly made their way back to the campsite when they heard you were found. Each one hugging you and badgering you with questions. Yet, none seemed to listen when you tried to explain.

"We were terrified. We thought you had fallen off a cliff or something. What the hell!" Claudia was both worried and pissed.

"I told you! I saw something. It-"

"Enough with your fucking jokes. This isn't the time to be funny. We were worried-"

"I'm not making it up." Tears were streaming down your cheeks. Frustrated that Claudia wasn't listening. None of them were. "I swear Clau-"

"Was this some elaborate sick joke, huh?" She thought you went missing as a joke? "To scare us or something. Well-it-wasn't-fucking-funny." Claudia shoved you between each word.

Before you could counter her attack, there was a rustle of leaves from the trees and then a gust of wind in front of your face. Before your own eyes, Claudia was gone. Lifted away like the speed of light. Everyone froze. Confused about what just happened. Of where Claudia had gone. However, before anyone could speak there was a loud thud on the ground as something fell from the sky where she had just stood moments ago. Everyone took a step back. It was you who noticed what had fallen first. It was Claudia's bloody and mangled body laying there on the ground. Her head had been twisted. Blood poured from cuts along her arm and torso. In groups of three, like talon marks. Some looked incredibly deep.

"It's here." Your voice was cold. Thinking you were safe back at the camp was foolish.

"What the fuck-what the fuck."

"Is that?"

"It's Claudia"

No one knew what to do. It wasn't until Louis darted to the trail that you guys had come up on that others followed suit. Forgetting your belongings in hopes of finding safety somewhere else. All logic leaving everyone's bodies. It was ridiculous to head down into the woods when it was dark, but it beat staying near the dead body of your friend.

Everyone split up. Going at different speeds and different paths that lead down the mountain to the cars. You weren't sure if anyone had grabbed the keys. But at least you would be far away from what had happened. Once again, you were running in the woods at top speed. Unsure if you were going the right way as you jumped and dodged. Focused on getting away and staying upright. Pushing yourself faster as you heard screams. Those were your friends, those screams belonged to people you knew and loved. You should be helping, trying to get out as a group. But you weren't, you were running away from their screams and pleas for help. You were selfish, only caring about your survival. Staying alive was all you had on your mind. Claudia's mangled body plagued your mind. She was dead, she had died right in front of you. Her life ended so fast. Did she even have a chance to fight? Would you?

Your feet were burning. You had run more today than you ever had. Putting your body through it without any real break. Everything in you begged for you to slow down. To take a pause. The new noise that came from trees wouldn't let you. It sounded like something was moving. Gliding from one tree to the next. In the same direction you were running. You hoped it was a squirrel or something. Though you know better. It was that thing, it had killed all your friends and now it was your turn. You were going to die here on this mountain. Just like the others. What would they say on the news? What would they tell your parents? That there was a freak accident? A cougar did it?

Your thoughts were wiped from your mind when you were pushed down. Something had come from behind and shoved you down. Your face was pressed into the dirt. While a weight was placed on your back keeping you down. You knew what it was. You could feel the talons, placed on your back getting ready to dig into your flesh. You were as good as dead. Just another body they'd have to clean up in the morning. That poor ranger would probably be the first to discover you guys. You waited, giving your last moments to think about everyone you loved. Giving a silent, one-sided goodbye. However, nothing came. No final blow. No intense pain. Just the pressure on your back.

"Y-you-you g-good?"

Did, did it speak? How could it do that? You placed your hands on the ground to steady yourself as you slowly turned your head back to make sure it really was the creature. The same startling yellow eyes as earlier met you once again. It was staring down at you. Its face was bizarre, earlier it had more of an intrigued look to it. Now it looked more... concerned?

"What?"

"G-good?"

Its voice was deep, it sounded strained. As if it was having a difficult time talking. Like the words leaving its mouth were foreign.

"You-you can talk?"

It nodded. A smile spread on its face. Revealing two rows of sharp teeth. Sending a shiver down your spine. This thing could talk and it was asking you if you were okay. That didn't make sense. Was it mocking you before it killed you? Maybe it was copying a human's speech without knowing what it meant. So you waited. Shutting your eyes you waited for its talons to dig in and for it to get bored.

"Y-you good? Good?"

The creature had flipped you around. Getting off quickly to move you before getting back over you. Placing its bent legs on either side of you. Still peering down at you. Waiting for an answer. Your back was now pressed into the dirt. Opening your eyes, you stared at the creature. Wondering what the hell it was trying to do. Asking you if you were good as if it wasn't going to kill you like it had done to the others.

"I-I-I."

There were no words to say. All you could do was slightly nod. What else could you say? It had just killed your friends. How could you be good when this creature had trapped you?

It copied your movement, nodding back at you slowly. Then its hands found your face. Holding your chin, making you nod again and again. It looked fascinated by your head movement. Making you nod over and over. You let it until one of its talons scratched your cheek. Making you flinch in pain and try to push its hand away. Its hand didn't move. Rather it wiped away the blood. Letting its taloned finger linger on your cheek. Gentler this time.

"Ple-please don't h-hurt me."

"Please? Hurt?"

It was repeating your words again. Seeing how they felt on its tongue. It didn't seem to fully understand what the words meant, or at least in that context. Repeating the words again. Its voice was getting better at mimicking more of a human tone. Sounding more and more like a familiar voice. It took a moment to realize why, it was mimicking your own voice along with your friends. Trying to find its own tune within others. That meant it had been watching you guys for longer than just today. You doubted that argument with Claudia gave enough for it to sound like her. Or even the screams and pleas of the others as they died. It had to of been around much longer. The thought made you sick. Thinking about how that feeling at the falls held truth. You guys were never alone.

"Me K-Keigo." It was talking again. Holding one of its hands to its chest. As if pointing to itself.

"Keigo?"

It flashed you its teeth again with its smile. As if proud that you were able to copy it. Keigo. Keigo. Why was it saying... oh, its name. It was telling you its name. Taking your hand, the creature placed it on your chest. Slightly pushing down on you. Trying to signal for you to copy it. Gathering any boldness you had, you told it your name. Barely above a whisper, but it didn't matter. It heard you. Copying your name over and over like the other words.

Your eyes drifted across its body. Trying to see if you could move your legs enough to knee it and run. However, that's when you noticed the blood. Trailing along its body. Covering its torso, legs and arms. It had blended in so well with its red feathers you hadn't noticed earlier. So it had killed them. They were all gone, dead. Meaning there would be no one to hear you cry out. No one to call for help or even come look for you after getting help. You were on your own. Alone with this monster who seemed to take enjoyment in you.

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