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pansexualkiba · 1 month

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"'Don't you want to be married, Katsuki?' 'It's like you don't even care, Katsuki!' 'Learn your VOWS, Katsuki!' RAAGH!" Katsuki mocked, kicking a nearby stump. "Maybe I'd be more open to the wedding if it wasn't arranged, ever think of that?!" Katsuki raged. He took out the ring from his breast pocket and flipped it around his fingers.

"Haaah... Nobody even asked if I wanted to get married in the first place. I especially don't want to marry that rich girl... Cheap fucking parents springing for the first wealthy family they can find, ugh." Katsuki huffed.

A crow startled him, and the shock grounded him again. Somehow, in his blind rage, he'd managed to run deep into the woods, where the nearest road was only a suggestion through the treeline. The full moon shone down on the snowbank, illuminating the small clearing he was in in an unearthly pale blue.

Katsuki wasn't one for Romanticism, but it was a glacially beautiful night, in his opinion.

The chill of winter midnight further cooled his head, and Katsuki grumbled as he stared at the ring. "Learn your vows... Learn your fucking vows... As if they're at all difficult." Katsuki growled. He then stood up, taking on a more affected accent, an apery of the Yaoyorozu patriarch if anything. "I vow to stay by your side, as your loving husband." He easily recited, ghosting the blocking of the ceremony with a nearby tree.

"With this candle," He snapped an icicle off a branch. "I shall light your way in the darkness." The tip of the icicle was placed to a small sapling growth, as if to mimic the transference of flame.

"Your cup shall never empty," Katsuki mimed sipping from a wine glass. "For I shall be your wine. And, most importantly," Katsuki rolled his eyes, and placed his wedding ring on an outstretched root.

"With this ring, I take you to be my bride."

It was as if the world froze, in that deep winter chill.

The wind began to pick up, crows began to shriek and the snow began to move.

"What the hell-" Katsuki took a reflexive step back, and suddenly, the root he had placed the ring around curled in on itself. Four other offshoots became known, and Katsuki realized with some small amount of horror that it wasn't a root - it was a hand, entirely skeletonized and buried haphazardly in a shallow grave.

How shallow it was was soon brought to light, as the hand clawed at the ground before a second, more fleshed (but still rotting) hand sprung out of the ground and joined its mate. The forest sod gave away, snow and dirt and moss erupting from the ground, and Katsuki shielded his eyes to keep the soil from blinding him.

The sounds of movement ceased.

Katsuki slowly opened his eyes.

The figure was ethereal. What color the skin once had was utterly removed, being so pale that they reflected the blue glow of the night forest. Owing to their semi-decayed state, their body was slim and slender, but certainly masculine. This masculinity was undercut by the utterly gorgeous, almost impossibly expensive wedding gown the figure was wearing, stained grey and brown by its time in the earth, and certainly eaten through by insects and worms. A horridly matching veil covered much of the bride's face, but there were waves of dark hair falling around the back of the dress.

The bride lifted their veil, revealing an almost cherubic face, ruined by the passages of time having sunken their cheeks sallow, their teeth showing through a hole in the left cheek.

"I do." The bride whispered.

Katsuki did the one thing he could think of, when faced with quantifiable proof that the dead walked the earth.

He attempted to tackle the bride.

The bride, however, seemed to giggle at the attack, and caught Katsuki, redirecting him into a deep bow with strength almost (and quite obviously) supernatural in its extremeness.

"I, Izuku Midoriya, hereby take you as my lawfully-wedded husband, in the eyes of God." The bride - Izuku - continued, voice barely a whisper but so, so happy, as if it was the one thing he wanted more than anything in the world.

Katsuki shoved himself out of the corpse's arms and hit the ground hard. The bride made to follow - Katsuki scrambled to his feet and broke for the treeline, for the bridge into town, for his actual life away from walking corpses and sham marriages and-

And a hand was gripping his arm. With a disgusted cry, Katsuki grabbed the hand and threw it over his shoulder, not looking at what could be behind him.

(Unseen, Izuku Midoriya, the living bride, easily caught his hand, as delicately and tenderly as his own bouquet.)

Eventually, Katsuki broke through the trees, despite the foliage's apparent determination to hinder his escape. The moon illuminated the dirt road into his town, and the bridge shone light blue in the snow.

It was so familiar, oh-so familiar, that Katsuki couldn't help himself but to lean over the side of the bridge, catching his breath.

There was no sound, nothing to indicate danger, so Katsuki allowed himself a second to absorb the moon's light. He turned to head home-

The bride was standing there.

With his back to the wall of the bridge, Katsuki was trapped. The corpse slowly stalked forward, and Katsuki made futile efforts to move back.

"You may kiss..." Izuku Midoriya, the corpse bride whispered happily, eyes shining in the night, "The bride..."

Izuku Midoriya pulled in close.

Katsuki Bakugou knew no more.

#mha #bnha #bakudeku #Bakugou Katsuki #Midoriya Izuku #corpse bride au #why tf not

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sideblogfornothing · 17 days

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We got a super interesting שיחה in school yesterday. They brought in an ex Muslim who converted to Judaism.

He started by telling us what his childhood was like, horrific shit let me tell you.

He explained how women are treated, and how they literally have no rights.

He explained how they would get beatings for being "disrespectful." He explained how if you were a "bad kid" like he was, you would get beaten. He said that he wanted to understand, so he would ask questions like "why do they have to pray at the mosque, why not just pray at home?" He said he got slapped for asking.

He talked about his sister, who was also disrespectful, he said that she got fed up, refused to do a chore or something and she got severely beaten. He told us how she would get beaten worse than anything we could imagine. He talked a bit more about how they treated his sister.

Then he told us how one day she convinced his brothers and father to let her get a job, (and give them all the money of course) and they let her.

One day she came back home a bit late, her brother's asked her why she was home late, and she explained how her friend took her to a shopping mall. Aperiently in Islam girls going to malls is illegal or something so they fucking killed her. (the reason was that she had supposedly dishonored the family, but omfg that's horrible.)

The guy explained how he was in his shared room with the rest of his brothers, he heard screaming, and his sister pleading for her life, and then pure silence.

He said that his brother opened the door, and before him was a gruesome sight he would never forget.

He was 9 years old or younger at the time btw.

So after that whole incident, his family decided to send him to study in a boarding school in Gaza. (I don't remember the name, I'm terrible with names.) Anyways, so he explained that he walked in and immediately he noticed that there were no tables or chairs. Later when he came to the sleeping quarters he realized there were also no beds. He inquired why, and was met with shock, confusion and some shitty explanation about how Muslims must be as close to the earth as possible or something like that.

So the way the school worked was that they study the Koran all day from 7:00 to 23:00 and then they sleep. He talked about how talking was forbidden and that you would get severely beaten at best if you were caught uttering a word. He than mentioned how he knew people who had lost their lives over a sentence.

When he was 12 and a half he was called to the principal's office, aperiently they thought he was "ready" something something that I didn't quite catch, ummm they taught them that Jews are the ultimate evil, that the greatest thing they could ever do would be to kill a Jew. Aperiently they were taught that killing a Jew would secure their place in heaven.

He explained that Muslims are willing to die to kill a Jew, cause if they die killing a Jew they are automatically going to heaven.

He said that he remembered that back home they would sometimes work with Jews, so he asked if it's ok to help a Jew. Like an elderly Jew or something. He was beaten until he couldn't walk for simply suggesting such a thing.

After that he was a bitch to the teacher again, he got beat and then they said they were sending him off. He was happy cause he thought he was being sent home, but turns out they were just sending him. To a different branch of the same school.

Once he arrived he immediately started hatching an escape plan.

He made a rule for himself that he would only ask each person 1 question.

Eventually he figured it out, hopped in a taxi or bus (I don't remember sorry) and made his way back home. The first thing he saw was his mother, who wouldn't even look at him because his brothers were nearby.

His brothers saw him, yelled at him said that he and the school would regret letting him come home ect. He said that he looked at his older brother and told him that he isn't the little 9 year old he was when they sent him off, they didn't know what he'd been through, and that he came home so he could be home and there was nothing they could do about it. And he reminded them of what they did to their sister, and said that he would tell the cops.

The brother raged something something (sorry I have a shit memory) eventually they decided to let him stay home, but he could not leave the house, and he had to do all the chores and probably something else im forgetting. They said that if he disobeyed what they did to their sister would seem miniscule in comparison to what they would do to him.

He decided that he would escape the moment he got the chance. And after 2 weeks, he got his chance. One of his brothers left the house key in his pocket, he pickpocketed him, unlocked the door in the middle of the night and ram away.

He knew that his family would be looking for him, waiting to kill him, so he hid in a graveyard for 10 days.

At some point he left to go look for scrap's, when he came across some Jew who had a baguette. He weighed his options and eventually decided that food came before the morals he's been taught.

So he approachs the Jew, and asks him if he speaks Arabic (in Arabic obviously) and the Jew says he does (In Arabic of course.) so he tells him that his brothers killed his sister, and their going to kill him too and can he pleaseee have some food.

The guy thinks he's pulling his leg, tells him to get lost something something the guy gets convinced and gives him some food and water.

Eventually (I don't remember what happened sorry) he ends up driving him to the central bus station in tel Aviv, hands him some money, and directs him to a bus, tells him to get off in Eilat, he says that what Eilat is, the guy tells him to get off where everyone gets off.

The bus was full of idf soldiers so it was very awkward and probably scarry for this guy to be on that bus.

He gets off where everyone gets off, lives on the streets for a while, until some guy who was also on the streets (they saw each other everyday,) approachs him to ask him what his deal is the guy doesn't understand Hebrew, so turns out this guy is fluent in Arabic. They talk the guy explains his deadly situation and this guy tells him that he has a brother who's could get him into a boarding school.

Now, a boarding school?! Boarding schools are awful! Remember what it was like!?? Hell no! So he obviously declines the offer, but this guy is persistent. So eventually he agrees, he goes this guy becomes like a father figure to him, reminder he's like 14-15 ish at this time.

So this guy takes him in, he's In shock, food water a roof for free??? Omg awesome! So he goes to this school, he learns Hebrew and life is good. But now his 18th birthday is approaching and he decides he wants to join the army. So he tells the guy, and other people in charge who kindly tell him can't but he explained how the more people explained why he couldn't he grew more and more convinced he could.

Eventually, this one guy in charge gets tired of this and tells him that if he can get his parents to sigh a permission slip he can. So naturally, his family will kill him if he shows up, so he tells this guy something like he should take to his parents without dying and something something he ends up being allowed to join.

Around this part we ran out of time so yeah.

I really feel like this guy's life story is important to share especially right now with everyone glorifying Islam and all that.

Islam is a religion built on murder. Kabam I'm tired sorry for the long post.

#israel #ישראלבלר #jewblr #ישראבלר #טמבלר ישראלי #jumblr #long

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aepples · 10 months

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father and child solve a murder mystery

this panel gave me less hell than anticipated

#homestuck #fanart #homestuck fanart #fanfic #sisyphus bleeds to death #fantroll #aperys epemry #and apprentice #entirely unnamed

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utilitycaster · 5 months

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A less talked-about but no less interesting part of God Discourse I've noticed is that amongst the There Is Nuance Here crowd there's a weirdly pro-Betrayer God attitude; like there's examples of gods being bad right here (see: The Actual Devil in Literal Hell), but we're choosing to focus on Melora for some reason? Fascinating levels of dissonance here.

So here's the thing. I've found that this has also been an evolving position.

I think during EXU Calamity, the main argument was pro-Betrayer God. Some was that Asmodeus was in fact played masterfully; Zerxus, after all, fell for it. The rest seemed to be to me the usual dull "but I wanted it to be subversive" argument, upon which the motivations of that desire I can only speculate (and such speculation, while entertaining, is not productive). I would argue, Calamity was not lacking in subversion, notably with the portrayal of Vespin Chloras and the fact that this was ultimately an immensely hopeful, if also deeply tragic story of an averted annihilation.

I think currently? It's the Wild West, at best. I don't have much to add other than what I've said already, and unfortunately it does require either familiarity with the posts I'm thinking about or me doing something as tacky as publicly posting screenshots to get the full context. Suffice it to say I've rarely seen such unformed and unsupported arguments. They are phrased in apery of a coherent argument, but, crucially, lacking the evidence.

Getting back to your point I think the focus is more on the Prime Deities because those are the gods whom past characters (and FCG) were affiliated with. I honestly don't think most of them have the lore knowledge to recall deities who have not come up as directly in game; they're focusing on Melora because they know who she is. Possibly because she was Bor'Dor's deity; possibly because she was the deity who reached out to Orym and was insufficiently clear in her communication to Fearne to satisfy them (and yet we stan Liliana, queen of clear responses, amirite?); possibly because it's edgily rewarding to them to fantasize about upending and destroying Caduceus, Fjord, and Fy'ra Rai's lives. Similar arguments can be made for Pelor and the Raven Queen; one can point to the genuine harm mortals have done in Pelor's name and the fact that the Raven Queen collected on a deal, willingly made, from Vax, and you get to weakly and cringingly tell yourself you are dunking on people who like Vax, or Vex, or Morrighan. It is interesting to me that people are not focusing more on Lolth given her appearance and the fact that Opal's choice, while technically willing, was much more manipulated than anything the Raven Queen has every done. Lolth behaves in canon as idiots believe the Raven Queen to have done in fanon. I've found a significant number of the arguments against the gods rely on a profound misattribution or at best deliberate avoidance of what is voluntary vs. what is coercive or done without consent (eg: comparisons between Judicators and Ruidusborn).

Basically: they bring in the Betrayers when it's convenient for the argument and cherrypick around them when it's not; they do the same with the Primes. There's just a lot more to pick from with the Primes.

#answered #siravia #cr tag

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literaryvein-reblogs · 3 months

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Words related to Food

to include in your next poem/story

Antipasto - any of various typically Italian hors d'oeuvres; also: a plate of these served especially as the first course of a meal. Antipasto (plural antipasti) is a combination of the Italian prefix anti- (meaning "before") and pasto ("meal, food"). Pasto comes from Latin pāstus, a word for the pasturing of animals, and pāscere, "to feed." An antipasto, or "food before a meal," typically includes a selection of Italian meats and cheeses as well as vegetables (such as peperoncini, olives, and artichokes).

Aperitif - an alcoholic drink taken before a meal as an appetizer Aperitif is from French apéritif, the adjective of which can mean "aperient (gently moving the bowels)" or "stimulating appetite." The French word goes back to Latin aperīre, "to open" or "to free from obstacles."

Appetizer - a food or drink that stimulates the appetite and is usually served before a meal. It derives from Latin appetitus, the past participle of appetere, which means "to strive after" or "to long for." Originally, appetite referred to any natural or instinctive desire (or longing) before it specified the desire to eat, as dished out in phrases like "a hearty/healthy appetite" or "a loss of appetite."

Canapé - an appetizer consisting of a piece of bread or toast or a cracker topped with a savory spread (such as caviar or cheese).

Hors d'oeuvre - any of various savory foods usually served as appetizers. It is one of many borrowings from French cuisine. It translates literally to "outside of the work."

Meze - an appetizer in Greek or Middle Eastern cuisine often served with an aperitif. Meze is not just an appetizer but a platter of appetizers. Its name comes from Modern Greek mezes and Turkish meze, which go back to the Persian word for "taste" or "snack," maze. That said, a meze can be a meal in itself with its assortment of Greek spreads and dips, vegetables, and cheeses, along with olives, grape leaves, baba ghanoush, and pita bread.

Tapa - an hors d'oeuvre served with drinks especially in Spanish bars. The word tapas is derived from the Spanish noun tapa, meaning "cover" or "lid."

Feel free to tag me or leave a link of your poem/story in the replies if you were able to use any of these words. I'd love to read them!

More: Word Lists

#writing #writing prompt #writeblr #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #poetry #words #spilled ink #lit #literature #food #langblr #studyblr #word list #terminology

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klaasje · 8 months

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funny apery. male centric workplace humour

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anonymousewrites · 11 months

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One Hell of a Love (Book 2) Chapter Twenty-Four

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Twenty-Four: One Hell of a Record

Summary: (Y/N)'s record is played out before them.

Mouse Note: Let me know what you think!

A child ran through a forest, racing over tree roots and leaping over creeks. The full hung high over the trees.

“Merlin! Merlin!” called the child.

A pained meow caused the child to pause and turned to the right. A group of kids were gathered around a cat, taunting it.

“Leave him alone!” said the first child, running towards the group. They scooped up a rock and threw it at the kids. The bullies yelped as they were pelted and ran off. “Cowards!” shouted the child after them. They knelt next to the little black cat, injured and bleeding. “Merlin…Oh, Merlin.”

The child reached out to the cat, and it hissed, lashing out. The child drew their hand back for a moment as the claws cut into them. Blood beaded in the small injuries, and the child hissed at the pain.

Swallowing, the child reached back out, and the cat let them touch it this time. “What did they do to you, Merlin?”

The cat meowed pitifully as the child petted it. The child closed their eyes. I wish you would heal. I want you to be alright…

Under the light of the moon, the blood from the cat scratches dripped onto the pelt of the animal and glowed a faint red.

A full moon threw silver light over the clearing in the forest. Within the clearing, a bonfire lit the area with golden light, creating an array of shadows and light.

A group of people laughed and sang. One dressed in black danced around the bonfire. The flames of the fire followed their dance, following the magic of their movements.

Barefoot, the figure in black swirling and threw their hands up. With their eyes closed, they could feel every piece of the world around them. They could hear the heartbeats of their coven, sense the trees growing to the heavens, feel the decay of dead animals and people beneath the Earth, all in a circle of life and death that rested at their fingertips.

“Aperi caelum et pluviam cadunt.”

They spun and threw up their arms.

The skies opened up, and the rain fell.

The witch in black stood in a home, standing beside a woman. In the light of day, their features were clear, soft, fairly young, and human.

“This should help your garden,” they said, handing over a bottle of liquid. “Pour it over your plants, and your harvest will come.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” said the woman, shaking their hand. “How can I ever repay you? My family would starve without you.”

The witch smiled. “Well, you simply…don’t mention my assistance, and you will owe me a favor when I ask it.”

The woman’s smile faltered. “A favor? Whenever you ask?”

The witch laughed. “Oh, dear. It’s not as if I’m going to steal your soul.” They smirked.

A young girl sobbed. “He-He—Oh, goodness! Oh, dear god!” Tears fell down her cheeks. “I-I don’t know what to do! No one would believe me…!”

The witch gazed at the young girl. Their gaze was set, somber with deadliness. To hear what had happened to this girl…it made their blood boil and their magic sing for justice.

“A-And he’s going to buy my marriage from my family! I-I can’t be stuck with him! I’d rather die!” sobbed the girl. She gazed up at the witch tearfully. “But what can I do?”

The witch knelt before the girl and took her hands. “You can give me his name.”

The witch stood in a cloak of black before a house. A dark sky of storm clouds rumbled overhead, obscuring the midnight sky.

The witch raised a silver knife with one hand and an open palm with another. They slit their palm, letting blood drip from their palm. They pressed the bloody palm to their chest on top of their heart and then raised it to the sky.

“Sanguis magicae. Sanguis ferit. Sanguis ardeat.”

The witch’s blood thrummed with magic. Lightning struck the house before them, and flames erupted in a brilliant column of light amidst the darkness.

The light of the flames danced across the witch’s face as they smirked.

“Brother?” The witch stepped into a sitting room with a pleasant smile. “Who are our guests?”

The brother turned to them. “They wish to speak to you about Mr. Hancock’s death.”

“Mr. Hancock’s death?” The witch raised an eyebrow. “Why, wasn’t that an accident?”

The brother sighed. “Apparently, blood was found outside.”

“Witchcraft, it was. Deviling and conjuring,” said one of the men angrily.

“And you are the only person ‘oo’s been walking around with new gloves,” said another man. “Ya’re hidin’ the devil magic you been doing.”

The witch scoffed. “This is nonsense.”

“Just show them your hands and be done with it,” said the brother, sighing.

The witch paused, narrowing their eyes. They clenched their gloved hands into fists.

“Show them,” said the brother.

“Yes, ‘Mayor,’ ” said the witch mockingly. They pulled their gloves off to reveal one hand with a cut through the palm.

Ropes bound the witch, and they wore just a shift as the men pushed them towards the river. The rest of the villagers watched, several people’s eyes widening as they recognized their fellow witch.

“Now, witch!” shouted a man. “We’ll see if the water accepts or reject you!”

They pushed the witch forward, and they fell into the water. For a moment, they were stuck beneath the water, staring up at the people of the village, drowning helplessly, the pressure of the water pressing in on all sides.

And then they floated. Their bound body lifted back to the surface. The villagers gasped and moved back, and the men glared at them.

“A true witch…We know how to deal with such a creature!”

The witch was bound to a pole, and wooden logs were strewn at their feet. They stared out across the crowd of people watching Rage raced through them. No one sought to help them. No one they had helped was willing to return the favor. The people they had killed for simply averted their eyes as they waited for the witch to be burned.

“Now, Witch, burn for your crimes!” shouted one man, lighting a torch. He tossed it onto the woodpile, and flames began to lick up at the witch’s skin. “Confess now or face the fires of Hell.”

The witch raised their head and spoke. “Very well. I have a confession.” They stared out across the crowd. “I am the reason so many of you lived and died.” Their audience gasped. “I gave you the rains for your crops, the medicine for your wounds, justice for your crimes! Your families lived and died by my hand and my will dozens of times.” They tilted their head as the flames grew higher around them. “So, tell me whether Heaven or Hell is what I belong?” The witch smirked.

“No…Actually, I’ll tell you.” Their eyes flashed bright with magic. “I do deserve Hell. But so do all of you.” The witch dug their nails into their palm, reopening the cut on their hand. Their grin was positively devilish.

“Ardeat in inferno!”

The witch laughed as the flames of their pyre swept into a raging hellfire, spreading towards the people who condemned them. They went to Hell with a smile on their face and a soul of fruitful vengeance.

The witch, no…that’s not it anymore, stood before a demon of feathers and shadow as he regarded them. “Name?”

Though they had no notion of where it came from, they knew it in their very heart. “Felis.” Yes. That was who they were. Felis.

Felis liked demon magic. It flowed much more easily to them than it had as a human witch. The shadows erupted from them, and they tore through the poor human they were testing their abilities on.

(Not that he was really that “poor.” He was a murderer that the police hadn’t caught yet, and Felis liked seeing the fear on his face as he experienced the same feeling of being prey his victims had).

“Good,” said Corvus, and Felis’s tail flicked at the praise.

“Not too dramatic for you?” said Felis, smirking.

“Toying with the mortals can be fun,” said Corvus.

Felis chuckled, blood decorating their hands, and Corvus smirked. They were respected. Felis was respected as an individual. Strange. The humans condemned Hell and demons, and yet a demon was the first being to give Felis the respect they deserved.

“What name is it this time?” Felis didn’t need to introduce themself. They and Corvus knew their energies and auras by heart, so all they had to do was strike up a conversation.

“Thomas,” said Corvus.

“Not one of your best,” said Felis.

“Yes, but the…reward will be worth it,” said Corvus with a smirk.

“Oh? So you have an exciting one this time?” said Felis.

“I have a mystery on my hands, and uncovering dirty little secrets always makes the humans squirm,” said Corvus.

“Sounds amusing,” said Felis. “Mine is amassing riches for her daughter by marrying.”

“Playing matchmaker?” said Corvus, entertained by the idea.

Felis smirked. “Oh, no, not at all. I free my Mistress up for the next husband.”

Corvus chuckled at the idea, and Felis grinned. Each time they found each other again, it was as if no time had passed. It was Corvus and Felis once more.

And Felis liked it that way.

Felis regarded the demon before them suspiciously. Something was…familiar. They straightened as they realized what it was.

“Oh,” said Felis.

“Ah,” said Corvus.

Felis grinned. Corvus was back in their life. They preferred it that way.

“Do you feel shame about your human life?” questioned Corvus suddenly.

“Excuse me?” Felis’s eyes flashed. “I died and came back a demon. I’ve lived for centuries bringing justice and power to those who are preyed upon by other humans. What do I have to be ashamed of?”

Corvus chuckled as Felis spoke before he opened his eyes. His eyes were glowing in the evening’s creeping darkness. He reached up, and his hand brushed over their skin. “Nothing. No demon like you should be ashamed of anything.” He smirked. “I chose to teach you for a reason.”

“Because I had already died?” remarked Felis, eyes darting to Corvus’s hand. They should be worried about his touch, uncomfortable as usual, but they weren’t. They stood calmly before Corvus.

“Because you had strength already,” said Corvus.

Felis raised an eyebrow and was about to ask what that meant, but Corvus smiled and stepped back. “Continue with your work. We shall have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.” And with that, he left Felis alone.

Felis gripped the shirt in their hand tightly before letting it fall to the table they were working at. What was that? Felis sighed and ran a hand through their hair. They were a damn demon. They shouldn’t be at all offput with someone being that close. They’ve literally seduced dozens of people. But for some reason, Corvus made them actually have a reaction.

Pushing aside the feelings wasn’t working. Felis couldn’t escape the thoughts. They were attracted to Corvus. They liked him far more than a demon should like anyone. They liked the one demon who respected them but was also so skilled as a demon that he didn’t get attached to anyone.

“Felis!”

(Y/N) snapped back to reality and collapsed backwards. Sebastian caught them, pulling them to him. “Felis?” There was barely concealed worry in his voice as he gazed at their dazed expression and their wound.

(Y/N) met his gaze, and his eyes said it all. He had seen their record. So had the rest. They knew what (Y/N) had been, the details of their human life they kept private for a reason. (Y/N) looked away, overwhelmed enough from having experienced their death for a second time.

“Your Record was even more amusing that the first time I viewed it!” said Undertaker.

(Y/N) nearly hissed in anger, demonic instincts spiking, hellish magic rushing into their veins. “My Record is none of—!”

Their words were cut off as the entire ship shook and swayed violently to the side. They were going vertical. Sebastian grabbed Ciel with one arm and grabbed the balcony railing with the other. (Y/N) held onto the railing beside him, grimacing in pain. Ronald and Grell jumped onto the railing, crouching as the ship tilted on its stern. Screams sounded from outside where the humans began to fall and face another deadly crisis.

“Don’t tell me it’s already—!” Grell scrambled for purchase.

“Blimey!” cried Ronald.

“My, my. Will it be anytime now, hm?” said Undertaker, stabbing his Scythe down to grip onto his perch.

“Oh, no,” said Sebastian, gritting his teeth. “The bow is pitching upward from the weight of all the water we have taken on.”

Stoker’s grip slipped. “A-Ah!” He screamed as he fell. A sickening crack punctuated his end.

“Rian Stoker. Born August twenty-fourth, 1854. Died April twentieth, 1889 due to a fall,” said Grell. Her waiting was over. “Bassy, (Nickname), as you can see, I haven’t a moment to spare. I hope you’ll forgive me, but I’ll be taking that Undertaker fellow for myself. You just stay right there and watch me in action.”

“We cannot allow y—!”

Sebastian leapt out of the way as Ronald attacked with his Scythe. The reaper pivoted and swung at (Y/N), who flipped up to Sebastian’s side. The demons grimaced, blood staining their clothes from their deep wounds.

“You’re much stronger than me, Miss Sutcliffe, so that Undertaker’s all yours!” said Ronald. “I’ll put these weak, worn-out, old dogs over here out of their misery!”

(Y/N) lifted their gaze, fuchsia eyes narrowed, pupils slits. They panted. A Death Scythe’s blow, especially one so deep, couldn’t be healed instantly even by a demon. They felt the pain. But (Y/N) wouldn’t let that deter them.

“Don’t take light of us,” they spat. “You’re but a reaper. We are demons. These wounds aren’t enough to stop us. And they certainly aren’t enough to give you the ability to defeat us.” They narrowed their eyes. “Right, Sebastian?”

Sebastian smirked. “Yes, most definitely.” He was by their side to the end.

(Y/N) coughed violently, blood escaping them.

Ronald sighed. “Aww, brother. Now I can’t help feeling like I’ve turned into a bully picking on the weak…”

Wham!

Sebastian moved in the blink of an idea and slammed a fist into Ronald’s face. He went flying and scrambling for purchase as he fell. Before he could grab anything, (Y/N) was upon him.

“You saw my Record. You should know what happens when people assume they have power over me.” (Y/N) slammed him backwards viciously. “It doesn’t end well for them.”

Ronald managed to flip his Scythe around and zoom towards them with it. He sliced at (Y/N), and they flipped up to avoid him. Sebastian launched himself down and kicked him. Ronald hit the ground and the pile of tables from the fall.

“Wai—!” He coughed. “Ho…w are you…still moving?!”

Sebastian and (Y/N) landed above him.

“Because,” said Sebastian. “It is as they said. We are demons. You have no idea what we’re capable of.” (Y/N) smirked through their pain.

“Even though you can barely stand up, there you go showin’ off…” coughed Ronald. “You make me s—!”

(Y/N) knocked him out with a kick. They glanced at Sebastian. “How about we make use of him?”

Sebastian smirked. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

(Y/N) picked up Ronald’s body, aimed, and threw. Ronald crashed into Grell, taking both the reapers out of the fight against Undertaker.

“Ronald?!” exclaimed Undertaker.

“I say,” said Sebastian, leaning on Ronald’s Death Scythe. “How soft the youth of today are! Is it not a little behind the times of you to depend solely on your Death Scythes?”

�� “Now…” (Y/N)’s sharp gaze turned on Undertaker. “The only one who remains is—”

The ship tilted again, and the remaining fighters braced. (Y/N), Sebastian, and Ciel kept together, and Undertaker perched on a column. Water broke through the original floor of the hall. The ship was finishing its submergence.

“Well, the time has come to say our farewells at last,” said Undertaker. “I must say, it’s been cracking good fun.”

(Y/N) leapt at him before he could put another word in. The shadows themselves propelled them forward, and Undertaker’s eyes widened in surprise as they slashed at him. He leaned back, and Sebastian lunged. Undertaker pivoted, avoiding the demons, but Ciel’s hand snapped out and closed around the chain of lockets Undertaker wore.

His eyes widened as he jumped away, but a soft smile appeared as he landed. “Lord Earl,” he said, almost gently. “I entrust that to your keeping for the present. Please take with you and treat it with care. It is my treasure.”

Ciel reached out to him. “Wait, Undertaker!”

“So long, my Lord, dear demons,” said Undertaker. He raised his Scythe. “Let’s meet again.”

He swung his blade, and the Campania was slit in half.

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