#they were not supposed to be non-human and Yet here we are

[crispyjenkins]

geraskefer "crispy has lost control of their life again" celebration sneak peek

this fic is really really heavy, in ways none of my other works are, so please read the following warnings closely even though i don't actually talk about any of those heavy things in this excerpt this is, however, a story that's very near and dear to me and i really love the world building i've done with it so far, and am actually almost done writing it but it's over 40,000 words and just wanna talk about it 😭

inspired by of music and motion and love (and it’s companion piece) by writethroughthenight on ao3.

warnings/tags: implied/referenced/off-screen sexual assault, canon-typical violence (non-sexual tho), stregobor-typical human experimentation, implied and canon-typical fantastical racism, implied/referenced torture (like it’s not really torture but it’s not NOT torture y'feel?), jaskier whump, no post-mountain geralt vilification, poly-heavy like this is very much a poly fic, minor mind/body control but no outright possession, good valdo marx, jaskier is the sandpiper, angsty but very much with a HAPPY ENDING

 She sighs and lets him kiss his cheek before ushering their strange little party out the door and down a servants’ passageway to the stables. To his relief, it’s just their means of escape, and they don’t actually have to deal with smuggling a horse or two; despite knowing she’ll be back the next time Geralt buys a chestnut mare, Jaskier still mourns whatever current Roach Geralt had to have left behind somewhere between Cintra and Temeria. 

  Also in their favour is the fact that everyone here is quite used to sneaking and hiding for their lives, so it’s quick work to move through Wyzima’s dark streets towards Dandelion. Any time Jaskier has to do something Geralt or Yennefer don’t expect (paying off a watchman here, steering them around patrols there, and even whistling a short code to one of the side business’ other Birds to allow them through a locked gate to cut through someone’s garden), Jaskier feels their curious and considering stares at his back, Yennefer’s with grudging admiration, and Geralt’s with slightly-accusatory guilt. 

  Whatever, Jaskier doesn’t owe Geralt anything, least of all an explanation for his unexplainable skills.

  Luckily, he only has to kill one person during the trek, one of Foltest’s soldiers that recognises Geralt as they pass, and Jaskier doesn’t have time to hesitate, flicking a terribly-thin throwing dagger from his left sleeve with enough force to stick it through the soldier’s throat to the hilt. After he retrieves his dagger, Geralt is back to not looking at him at all.

  They reach Dandelion in just over an hour thanks to shortcuts and an old smuggling tunnel, arriving at a small two-storey cottage in a relatively nice area of the city, with no distinguishing features except a single paper Dandelion in a vase in the curtained front window. Jaskier leads them around to the back (the front doors of all the safehouses are sealed and barred, with magic and wooden slats both), and uses a small burst of his own magic to unlock the door to the cellar.

  He makes sure everyone enters ahead of him, closing and relocking everything with the same touch of chaos that has Yennefer’s nose twitching, then ushers Destiny’s Trio up into the cottage properly.

  It’s sparsely decorated, it’s not exactly meant to house anyone for more than a night at most, but the warm wood furniture and whitewashed walls are actually quite cozy, if Jaskier says so himself. Amused, he watches understanding dawn on everyone’s faces when they see the collection of paper dandelions tied together on the kitchen table.

  Yennefer turns to Jaskier. “Dandelion is the safehouse?”

  “Of course, my dear witch!” Flouncing into the kitchen, he quickly —though not quite painlessly— unslings his satchel to drop it onto the table next to the dandelions. “So are Buttercup, and Chamomile, though in your defense Poppy is very much a person.”

  “Jaskier.”

  He winces, taking a deep breath before finally meeting Geralt’s golden eyes for the first time since he’d burst into Triss’ infirmary. Do Cirilla and Yennefer realise just how much emotion their stoic witcher is showing right then? Pain in the clench of his jaw, confusion and the fear of that confusion held in the tension of his shoulders, worry in the lines of his pursed lips?

  Fuck, this is why Jaskier never wanted to see Geralt again, because he remembers when Geralt used to look at him with that much emotion all the time, back before Yennefer fucked her way into both their lives, back before Geralt had lost them both.

  “Geralt,” he murmurs tiredly, sagging to lean on the back of the chair.  “Why do you have multiple safehouses?” The ‘Why do you need multiple safehouses?’ goes unsaid.

-

#triss and jaskier are twins!! #they were not supposed to be non-human and Yet here we are #y'all have to wait for the actual fic to find out what tho heuheuheu #also yes that does mean jaskier is brown and only white-passing do not fight me on this #crispy writes #pockets full of posies #will be the tag for this fic going forward #because i will absolutely be talking about it again #i love this fic to absolute pieces i don't even know where to begin #wip #sneak peek #another victim of the ''i'm trying to finish writing fic before posting them'' agenda

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine 300 years prior to the current happenings in Fontaine. The rain has been pouring non stop for days. Even in the deepest and coldest cell in the land of Fontaine, you can hear the wain pouring hard alongside a few thunderstorms here and there making almost all flinch and yet you remained calm and continue to humm an unfamiliar tune.

Imagine as you look outside the cell, the guard almost flinching, unable to look at your face. Nevertheless you smile, smile to yourself as you could hear a familiar footsteps coming from the distance. And there soon enough, a familiar face came from the distance causing you to stand up from your bed, a bed quite luxurious for a prisoner like you.

"The time has come? I suppose?" You asked, holding up your hand that was chained up, shackles connected to a mass of concrete to weight you down. Rather than answering you, you only heard the cell gate opening. So it did seems like the time has come. "It's quite pouring outside, hmm?" You spoke, never once did a smile left your face.

Imagine, as you step out of the cell. Your (eye color) iris finally met a pair of blue ones. And then he looked away. "I'll be taking this prison from here." "Yes Monsieur Neuvillette." The prison guard salute. And so the silent walk into the court has began. Just the two of you walking side by side, hands resting on front as you drag the heavyweight concrete connected to your shackle.

Imagine only the sound of the pouring rain could be heard as the silence seems to have somehow comforted the two of you. "Is it heavy?" He asked referring to shackles placed upon you. But perhaps he was talking about something else "No, not at all." And that goes for you too. "Can we... Can we-" "We have arrived." You spoke as you arrived at the door that leads to the end of the trial that has been going on for months now.

"As the chief justice, I shall now render (First name)(Last name)'s crime of murder of hundreds of Fontaine citizens that have been gone missing for the past few years, abuse of authority as the head of the Dutchy causing corruption and disorganisation on it. As a human to cause such disruption and harm within not only in the community but also within the country. You are... Guilty."

Imagine as his cane makes a loud banging noice on the floor, everyone flinched. Yet the calm smile never left you face as if you have seen it all coming, rather, your eyes were focused of the rather havier rain than you could imagine pouring outside the court, drowning the cheer of people inside. As the final verdict was passed on into the machine, Oratrice Mecanique, you just continue to stare outside, the rain seem no sign of stopping by as time passes.

"According to the judgment of Oratrice Mecanique D'analyse Cardinate, (First name)(Lastname) is... guilty, to be punished... via death sentence." Looking away from the scenery outside, you look up only to see him looking at you this time, never once looking away. Eyes seems to be saying something. How do you do this to me is what it seems to you. How could you made me to this to you?

As you stand in place where the punishment shall take place, it front of the crowd and in front of him as well as the Hydro Archon looking at you with an emotionless expression as you gave her a slight nod. Soon your part in the play would be over. "Any last words?" He asked. That made your smile twitch and your eyes once again look at the pouring rain ourside.

"I... I wish it would stop raining... It's quite a gloomy day for my execution, I wish it could be more of a bit sunny today but... It's okay... It's okay, the rain will stop somehow, right?" As soon as you said that, the sound of the rain stopped and everything went black as the look of pain and suffering was reflected in the eyes of your lover. Hydro Dragon, don't cry.

Imagine it was the one of the first unfair trials in the court with after almost a decaded later it was known that it was in fact not the work of the former leader of the Duchy that causes people to went missing as well as the corruption but other people. But the damage was already too late as the blood has been shed and the wrong person have died already.

Imagine little to they know, little does he know, it was part of the plan. And even if it means being one of the sacrifices to return the power that he once have. For his sake, for his sake then you shall do it. Even if it causes your life, it's worth it. Only for him and only him.

Imagine, even if years have gone by. He's still standing on that cliff, hoping and waiting one day. He'll see you again, this time. This time, he will never let you do such a thing. He will keep you safe and sound even if that means defying every since law in this land. So there he is, still standing on that clif, wishing one day, you'll be here again.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°

#dark night hero #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin #genshin impact x reader #bro idk what happened #neuvillette imagines #neuvillete x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvilette x y/n #neuvillette angst #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #angst

[teeth-cable]

I need more people to talk about how just like the POC designs, the writing is terrible at clueing the audience what race and ethnicity the characters are.

Beside stereotypes, the racial coding in the writing is little to non-existence. The characters don’t have mannerisms from their cultures, speak in slangs or idioms relating to their group from their time periods, or make cultural references.

Without having to rely on outside sources (Livestreams, looking up VAs, leaked audition sheets, etc), the only characters I would successfully guess would be Vicky, Val, and Velvette, and even then, it doesn’t mean the racial coding is good.

Vicky is the only one from this list whose racial coding isn’t atrocious. I can tell she’s Latino because she curses in Spanish, but that’s it. This is admittedly nick-picky , but I wish when cursing she would have used Salvadoreño specific slang and curse phases to signal she’s Salvadoreña.

Val, I can tell is Latino too, because of his accent and him cursing in Spanish, but it’s egregious. The accent fluctuates so much, it’s strong, then weak, then strong again. Not sure if the VA was struggling or if this was an intentional direction given to him, though the fact, I and other people were confused, at the direction, speaks for itself. Another issue with his accent is how it’s sexualized, contributing to the Latin Lover stereotype of his character.

Velvette, I won’t sugarcoat it. I wouldn’t even guess she was supposed to be black though the writing or the majority of her designs until the finale. The finale, the last episode of the season and the only time she has textured hair with her screen time being around two minutes and sixteen seconds in total.

Visual designs isn’t where race coding ends. This is important to remember because it ignores the good coded characters (King Dice from Cuphead, Darwin from TAWG, the Funk trolls from Dreamwork’s Trolls) and how Viv failed and could have done the racial coding better.

For Viv, she has to rely on other coding methods too because there are characters who aren’t humanoid enough, or even humanoid at all, for visual coding to work. There really isn’t anything I can say to explain why the race coding sucks beside Viv doesn’t care about representing POCs.

I wanted to create this post to highlight how Viv fails at coding in every aspect. The fandoms and critics shouldn’t praised her for giving Velvette textured hair or darkening Sera’s skin from her leaked audition sheet. We need to stop praising creators, especially white ones, for doing less than the bare minimum (The bare minimum being making POC characters look POC) when creating POC characters, or worse, justify it. I’ve seen people tried to justify the terrible POC designs by using one of Carmilla’s daughters as an example, as if one decent POC design in a sea of ashy and euro-centric or erased features for the majority of the POC cast suddenly invalidates the criticisms.

I’m also getting tired of the fandom making posts questioning why people have and still draw the POC characters as white, as well as people harassing artists for accidental whitewashing. I’m hate the whitewashing too but in this case, it’s different because this is Viv’s own fault due to her poor racial coding. Not every fan will have the same intense knowledge you do or even should, to know what a character’s race or ethnicity is, that’s Viv’s responsibilities as the creator.

Mind you, these were the human designs we had before the show aired. Alastor being mixed creole and Niffty being Japanese yet they look white as hell here.

#꧁rambles꧂ #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin critical #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism

[dedalvs]

Hi! Hope you're doing well. I was reading a fantasy webcomic with some Deaf characters and was wondering: what adjustments to the language creation processes would a conlanger have to make for creating a sign language? Thanks!

The short answer is relatively few. Sign languages are languages and do all the same things with a different phonology. So long as you understand the phonology of a sign language you can create a sign language.

The long answer is here. That's a thing I wrote up called SLIPA (Sign Language IPA). Due to the fact that the potential for iconicity with gesture is greater than with sound there's a lot more onomatopoeia in a sign language than in a spoken language. To explicate, onomatopoeia in spoken language is a word that imitates the sound of the referent (splash, crash, plunk, boing). In a sign language, it's a sign that imitates the look of the referent (ASL TREE, for example). Since it's possible to be more iconic, sign languages take advantage of that fact. Consequently, you don't find sign languages that DON'T take advantage of it and are purely abstract. There are also things that are hard or impractical in a spoken language that are simple in a sign language simply due to the medium (e.g. full number incorporation in the ASL words for WEEK and MONTH). Finally, there are a lot of "on the fly" verbs that are created that have no obvious analog in a spoken language. It's something like the sentential words of a polysynthetic language combined with imitative sounds in a spoken language to describe a body in motion.

In other words, because there are things you can do in a sign language simply due to the medium that you can't do in a spoken language, sign languages often do those things. It would be strange (i.e. non-human) if they didn't. If you're aiming to create a secret sign language, perhaps you intentionally don't take advantage of those things. It's possible to create a purely abstract sign language, but it would be a fairly obvious construct the way Ithkuil is very obviously not a plausible human language (i.e. it could never have evolved naturally to be the way it is). This might be a fun thing to do for a fictional setting—a totally non-iconic sign language created for secret communication. This is, essentially, what I did with the Atreides sign language in Dune (as opposed to the other sign language I created for the first film that wasn't used). Even that one, though, takes advantage of iconicity in a way that a truly abstract sign language need not. This is because part of the secrecy of the language is the way it's used. Others aren't even supposed to see it—and if they do, they're supposed to dismiss it as hand twitches. You could make an obvious sign language (i.e. it's obvious these characters are signing to each other) but with really, really weird associations—like pointing to your interlocutor means "sky", where eveyrone looking on will think it means "you".

Anyway, just some thoughts. This is an underexplored area of conlanging, but due to the simplicity of video creation and sharing nowadays, it's something that's worth exploring. Back in 2006 when I wrote up SLIPA it wasn't practical to take videos and upload them. It was possible, certainly—we had high speed internet and websites—but we didn't have smartphones, I don't think YouTube existed yet, most frontend UI didn't have video embedding as a feature of its platform, etc. We were lightyears ahead of the internet as we understood it in the 90s, so 2006 would be much more familiar to the people of 2024 than the people of 1994, but smartphones and social media (and its infrastructure) really changed the nature of capturing and sharing video. Conlangers have taken advantage of that in every way EXCEPT creating, documenting, and sharing CSLs (created sign languages).

Like (I don't want to go off on a tangent here) you can have an entire YouTube account that is just a dictionary. ASL already does this. Go on YouTube and type "ASL sign for [whatever]". There are tons of videos that are like 10-15 seconds long that are just demonstrations of a single sign from different angles, all made by Deaf signers. And the videos don't need sound! You don't have to worry about audio quality, microphones, etc. You can actually use YouTube to document an entire sign language. No one's done it yet. Why not?

Anyway, those are my thoughts. Hope this helps.

#conlang #language #ithkuil #sign language #deaf #csl #slipa #youtube #language creation #video #dictionary #deaf sign language

[matan4il]

Update post:

It's exactly six months since the start of the war. Six months since the worst massacre of Jews post WWII. Six months since the worst tragedy in Israeli history, for Jewish and non-Jewish citizens, and for non-citizens who happened to be here. Six months of still not understanding how it could happen. Six months of looking for a way to comprehend that the age of defenceless Jews being mass tortured, raped and murdered isn't behind us. Six months of watching people deny the murders, the rapes, the intentionality of these crimes, the identity of the perpetrators, the pain that we feel, the fact that on October 7 we were the victims, all of which denies our very humanity. Six months of even more Israelis getting killed, soldiers and civilians, in Israel and in Gaza. Six months of wanting my people back. All of them. Alive. The kidnapped and the massacred. Like having an adult's brain, which understands the finality of death, and a child's heart, which doesn't. Six months of trying to process images and realities I will never forget, and never understand. Six months of watching with horror as my Jewish brothers and sisters abroad are being targeted as well, of searching for ways to stand with them even from afar. Six months of hearing some non-Jews (and a minority of Jewish people) acting as if Israelis' right to live is dependent on how many Gazans the antisemitic, genocidal terrorists of Hamas manage to get killed, in order to turn the world against us. Six months of having to realize those terrorists, who never made it a secret that their intents for every Jew in the world are genocidal, might succeed. Six months of wondering how the Holocaust, the genocide perpetrated against the Jews for being Jewish, is being hijacked, distorted, and All Lives Matter'ed, by the same people who would have screamed against how wrong that is, if it were done to any other marginalized group. Six months of finding comfort in the compassion, strength and solidarity of the Jewish People, of the Israelis, and of our true allies. Six months of working to allow joy in again, even as the pain doesn't let go for a second. Six months of having to face the devastating fact, that the family scars, born out of millennia of antisemitism, are not going to stop with this generation, either. Six months of experiencing the betrayal of people who were supposed to be friends, and to listen, and to know better. Six months of discovering that there is no limit to the human heart's ability to break. Six months of grieving every day like it's the first one, because October 7 never ended here. Six months of knowing I will never be the same, right from the start, from the very first horror video I happened to come across online. Six months of never being more Jewish in my life, or closer to what my Holocaust survivor grandparents had gone through, or more broken, or stronger, or prouder, or braver, or more full of love, for my people, for my friends, for my heritage as a Jew that teaches choosing to hold up even one little light, because in a world so full of darkness, so willing to embrace it, nothing matters more than the light we choose.

<- -> <- -> <- ->

Yet another Palestinian terrorist attack happened today. Two people were shot by the terrorist attacking vehicles driving by, and one of the vistims, a 19 years old female soldier, is said to be in serious condition. The other victim is a 50 years old man. The army is in pursuit of the terrorist.

We learned that yesterday, four more Israeli soldiers were killed during the fighting in Gaza, bringing the totaly number of fatalities in the ground operation to 260, and in the war and Hamas massacre combined to 604. May their memory be a blessing.

A 17 years old Palestinian was detained, searched and then arrested yesterday at the Damascus Gate in Jerusalem, when they found a concealed knife taped to his body, stopping him before he was able to carry out a terrorist attack. In a Facebook post, he talked about martyrdom and the road to heaven, a message typical of Jihadists.

Liri Albag is one of the four young Israeli female hostages, who were featured on the cover of the Daily Mail, showing them before the kidnapping, and just several hours after. Her family was sent a funeral laurel wreath, and security forces believe this was done by Iran, as part of its psychological warfare against Israeli civilians.

Here's another reminder that Hamas operates outside of Israel, and is a danger to all Jews, not just to all Israelis. This week, German and Dutch police jointly arrested four Hamas terrorists. While investigating their intent to launch attacks during Christmas, these forces ended up uncovering a Hamas weapons cache in southern Bulgaria, meant to be used against Jewish targets in Europe.

This is 47 years old Elad Katzir.

He was a farmer, and a passionate soccer fan. On Oct 7, his dad Rami was murdered in their community of kibbutz Nir Oz. His mother Chana was abducted, then released during the hostage deal, at the end of November 2023. The Palestinian Islamic Jihad (PIJ) claimed she was murdered, but it turned out they lied. Yesterday, we got the news that Elad, who was also kidnapped with his mom by the PIJ, was murdered in captivity, likely back in January. Intel that the IDF had collected led soldiers in a risky operation to the spot where Elad's body was buried. They brought him back home. As he volunteered so much, in so many domains, with so many people, his friends described him as, "a bachelor with many children."

May his memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack #resources #europe hamas

[viccz]

Lucifer having a crush on you.

Lucifer Supremacy ✊ !non gender specific mc!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He knew he liked you when he started thinking about you constantly. Shopping on Azukon he wonders, what would MC like? Doing his paperwork he wonders, what would MC do if they were here? He’s always buying you things, praising you, giving you special treatment, and so much more. With all of that, he finally realized that he loves you.

At first, he feels that his feelings are distracting. He has work to do, he can’t be focused on a human. He tries to avoid meeting up with you in the halls, talking with you for too long, spending one on one time with you. It’s terrible, he misses being with you. He’d do anything just to forget these feelings and only view you as just an ordinary human. But he can’t. He can’t because you are no ordinary human. You’re his human.

He finally accepted his feelings for you. He doesn’t exactly know what to do about it though. What if you don’t love him as well? What if you like one of his brothers? He becomes worried. Very worried. But all of these thoughts leave him when he sees the way you stare at him.

It was during dinner when he noticed you staring. He was simply drinking his demonus when his eyes link with yours. Your soft eyes looking into his. You looked so wanting. Blush crept onto your face. You quickly look away, hiding your face from him, acting like nothing happened. That’s when he realized that you must care for him too. There’s been so many other signs. The way you covet his attention, the way your arms linger while hugging him, the way your eyes shy away from his while talking to him.

A few days later, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He needs you to be his. He yearns for your love. For your praise. Your taste. He was ready to tell you how he feels. So don’t even attempt the way you feel, he already knows you love him back. (also you’ll totally break my mans heart 😪” So, when you were conversing with Levi and Asmo, he interrupted.

“MC. Come to my room in 20. We need to discuss something important.”

Levi and Asmo looked at you. While Levi looked worried, Asmo looked at you mischievously.

“Oooh! MC! What’s going on with you and Lucifer?~”

You scoffed at him. You walked away from them both, rushing to your room to practice praying for forgiveness. You were fully convinced that you were gonna get some kind of punishment.

Lucifer hurriedly took off his clothes and slid on his robe. He set up some music and poured the both of you some demonus. The wait was excruciating. He needed you so much. He kept glancing at the time, awaiting the time you were supposed to arrive.

“…Lucifer? Can I come in?”

He got up and opened the door for you. Basically pulling you in with how he grabbed you. He sat you down on his couch. You looked so jittery, and yet, he could sense a hint of desire in your eyes.

“Please, have a drink MC.”

You were a bit skeptical. The music..the demonus..his outfit. What’s he playing at? Is he trying you make you melt with all of this romance? You awaited what was to come.

You two talked for a bit. Laughing about the brothers shenanigans. Discussing how school was going. Don’t think he didn’t notice you slowly inching closer to him. Once you were close enough, he placed his hand on your upper leg. You both then sort of froze and looked into each others eyes. He cleared his throat and said..

“ MC, about what I called you here for..well..how do I put this. I care deeply about you MC. So much that I dare to even say that I love you. I feel like i’ve known you for eons. So tell me, darling. Do you..love me back..?”

You were stunned. You couldn’t believe this. He really feels the same? He had you scared for a second! That jerk! But a beautiful jerk. Oh Diavlo,, what do you say?

“I..I love you too, Lucifer..”

He smiled. He quickly embraced you. He rested his head in the crook of your neck. He was breathing heavily, as if he had been holding his breath. You wrapped your arms around him too. Both relived that the other feels the same way.

You stayed in his room for the rest of the night. Drinking demonus and speaking sweet nothings into each others ears. He felt full of pride. You were finally his lover. He absolutely adores you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

mwaaahahahahaha this was fun to write. Hope you guys enjoy this one 👾👾👾

#obey me fandom #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me #obey me brothers #obey me fluff #obey me lucifer #obey me scenarios #obey me luci x reader #lucifer x mc #x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer #obey me brain rot #obey me angst #obey me simp #obey me swd #obey me house of lamentation #obey me story #obey me fanfic #brainrot #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me satan

[narcissarina]

Darkened Desires

Pairings: Mafia!Scaramouche × Barista!Reader

Word count: 1,088

Tw: praise kink, degradation, kidnapping, tourture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, gore, deaths, age-gap, corruption, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, mentions of human trafficking on the near chapters, slowburn.

Warning: This fanfiction may contain kidnapping, torture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, age-gap, corruption, vigilante Scaramouche, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, and more. This fiction will continue grow darker as chapters goes by.

Your mental health matters.

PROLOGUE

“It shouldn’t have come to this.” This wouldn’t have happened, if she could just listen to me! I would not have done that, she was suppose to be mine, mine alone. How dare he laid his hands on her. I should’ve just chained her, isolate her, keep her all by myself. If only she kept her curiosity to herself.

Very well then, curiosity does kill the cat. I’ll be having my own fun to chase and to hunt her down, until she admits that every part of her is mine.

CHAPTER 1:

THE SUN

Nothing makes my morning much more delightful than working in a Café that me and my friend own, a smile spread across my face as I greet a customer with delight, “Hello, welcome to Tulipa Purissima. What can I get you today?” I saw a smile from the little girls face as she waved at me and pointed right to the menu of our café.

“Mommy, mommy!” the girl yelled with a high pitched but adoring voice, “I want a strawberry cake!” the girl added, on the other hand—the mother, was busy speaking to her phone while holding the little girls hand. This very much reminded me of how me and my mother were. I let out a soft laugh as the girl was too eager to have her strawberry cake, pulling her mothers sleeve and arm, whining and pushing her. The older woman didn’t flinched nor yelled at the girl, she just pat her head and hold the call, pinching her daughters cheek.

This is so adorable to watch.

After a few exchanged mutters from the mother and daughter, they placed their order and find their seats. Those two really did remind me of my mother and me, how she’ll always take the call either a call from relatives or from her workplace, then we’ll go to a café and I sulk at her from taking too long.

I laughed and passed the order from my friend, who will make and serve the orders. This is how me and my friend, Estrella do and pick our parts, we also switch roles from time to time.

As I serve customers, call out their name to pick up their order, something caught my attention—someone. Group of men dresses in fancy black tuxedo inside the café, they haven’t get anything yet. I assume they were only bystanders, I sigh and look for my friend to make sure, “Estrella?” I called, she hums in response and finishing the last order and gave the receipt to the customer.

“Those men..” I point towards the right side of the back of the café, trying my best not to seem rude to point to customers and not wanting to be find out that I’m talking about them, “they haven’t ordered anything yet, right?” I asked, worry hinted in my voice. Since I feel a bit of intimidation towards of group of men, worse part is that they even dressed up in black expensive tuxedo’s.

My friend took a quick glance and stared at me in the eye, shaking her head and wiping her hands with tissues, “No,” she hums, “I haven’t seen a single one of them come to front and claim their order.” She added, Estrella has a knack for remembering faces of customers for the day and know who’s had ordered and who didn’t, “and they don’t seem like a regular here either.”

I sigh and got out from the counter, “I’ll deal with them, we can’t have bystanders here.” I murmur to myself and to Estrella to hear, she gave a thumbs-up as if it’ll motivate me and have such courage to speak with those dangerous looking men.

There were three to seven people in this table, two on either side of the bench seat and a man in the middle—sweating and fidgeting, as if he’s being threatened by these men. I approach their table, my hands clasp together and I cleared my throat to bring their attention to me, “Hello, gentlemen.” I utter, trying to steady my voice and not stutter or eat my words up. I continue, “I—uh noticed that you guys haven’t order anything here yet and that an atmosphere you bring inside Tulipa Purissima is unsettling, if you all don’t mind, I kindly ask you all to leave.”

A man with dark purple hair and in a short hime cut with lavender highlights, I assume he’s a little older than me but with a baby face like that and how he stood out from the rest of the men, I think I know who’s in charge of the group. He spoke, his tone flat and uninterested, “so we just need to order and you’ll leave us alone?” he asked, his eyes darkening and piercing the more he look at me dead in the eye.

I think I want to curl up into a ball and cry to my mommy.

My lips sealed shut, his voice raspy and husky. I don’t move an inch and I peel my eyes away from his deadly gaze, “uh. I- I mean.” I started stammering, I could feel my heart beating and racing, my legs wanting to give out and run to my friend Estrella.

Help, I’m scared.

He waves his hand lazily, his palm resting his chin and elbow on the table. “Whatever, get me some dark coffee.” He said, tone still flat and uninterested. He turn to his colleagues—or that I assume that were his colleagues, it feels like more a security than old friends…

“You all order some, my treat.” He murmured but it was loud enough to be heard by the others, I took out my handy-dandy notebook and write down all their orders. I’m so glad that I keep this thing all the time with me.

After placing and telling me their order, I noticed the man looking at me. The one in the middle, his eyes big and wide, his hands trembling and fidgeting—as if he’s telling me to help him.

“I don’t want to intrude but,” I said and lean over the table and look at the man, but I don’t lean in too close. “I’m sorry sir but are these gentle folks seems to bother you nor are they intimidating you?” I asked, my tone strong and full of concern.

I could feel a burning sensation at the back of my neck, and I know who’s eyes they were…

Link:

Chapter 2: THE MOON

#genshin impact #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche #genshin scara #scaramouche smut #modern Scaramouche #Mafia!Scaramouche #dark romance #genshin smut #Dark Desires Series #sorry for being inactive #i hope y'all like it #darkened desires series

[uglypastels]

Not Wholly Evil |IV| pirate!eddie

a/n so sorry for the long wait. Let this be a celebration of the beginning of summer :) and lets hope for many fics to come (i cant make any promises tho) I hope you enjoy this chapter!!! Please remember to support by reblogging and leaving comments on what you think of the story <3

Series Masterlist

word count: 7.5k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. pirates are pigs: mentions of non-con, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. religious (Christian) references.

There might be a mention of other ST characters, and for plot sake, everyone is an adult here, just coz I don't want fetus pirates running around, but they are not really relevant to the plot.

Chapter 4: Columba 

A philosopher once asked, "Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?" Pointless, really..."Do the stars gaze back?" Now, that's a question. ― Neil Gaiman, Stardust

‘We’re… lost?’ You stared blankly ahead.

‘I’ll admit, lost is a strong word, princess— Misdirected feels more accurate. Sailing off-course.’ 

You stammered for a response to the confession you just heard. ‘How– How could we be off-course?’ The captain’s words had not fully come through to you yet, perhaps by his casual stance and lack of urgency for a solution or panic. He stood there, arms behind his back, studying his map like one of the painting hanging on the Queen’s wall. And yet, according to this man, you were heading into uncharted waters. You have been heading towards them for God knows how long.  

‘It is quite simple. Here–’ he was still analysing the markings on the wall as he spoke, and he must have wanted you to step closer, for he looked at you expectedly. Something around his mouth twitched when he looked your way. The eye contact was piercing both ways with so much said between the two of you, and yet not a single word had been exchanged. With two ringed fingers, he pulled an invisible string that he hoped would have some effect on you. 

It did not. 

All you did was raise a brow in your expectation, ready to see what the captain would do now. Arms crossed, you remained in your place. 

‘Do not make me come over there, princess.’ 

‘Do not make me come over there, Munson.’ The words were bitter but tasted sweet, like honey on your lips. If you had blinked, and as luck would have it, you did not, you would have missed the captain’s reaction; a deep breath in as he hollowed out his cheeks, pushing back any clearer indications of frustrations or signs of weaknesses. The patience ran out of his dark eyes. Then, with a stretch of his neck, he returned to his first problem as if the short interaction between you had never occurred. He sounded entirely unphased as he, despite your distance, went to explain the conundrum. ‘Several days ago, the Hellfire stumbled upon a certain ship,’ he tapped one of his fingers on a small mark south of the map. It then dawned on you that, by surrendering to your stubbornness, he had won the bigger battle. Your curiosity was gaining on you, and from where you stood, you could not put much more meaning to his words, as the islands around it were unfamiliar. He knew this and could tell you were frustrated with yourself, but you were too stubborn to walk up and look at what he was showing you… yet where you stood now was no good either. The captain continued explaining as if you were right by his side, not addressing anything else of the situation. ‘Tonight, we were meant to have only been a week’s travel away from our destination–’ your home. This shocked you, for before, you had no indication of how much longer it would take—a week. What was supposed to have been a week is now an undetermined eternity as the ship sailed on.

The mention of your home hit you at the deepest level, overshadowing any other emotions you felt. Any stubbornness was pushed aside for anger as you crossed the room. 

Nothing was exchanged as you moved past the desk towards the captain. He did not look your way, but the grin on his face was undeniable. You could still feel it when he brought you closer to him with a quick pull, shaking you around practically like a rag-doll. You now stood between him and the map, his shoulder against your back. His breath on your neck. His muscles brushed over you as he moved his arm to point out the locations on the map. The flash of heat coming over you could not have been anything but the anger you felt at yourself for letting this happen.

‘To sum up, we met here, darling,’ he reached to tap the map again at a southern point, bringing himself closer to you with the excuse to reach the chart. His chin practically leaned on your shoulder, and his hot breath became overbearing to all your senses. All you could focus on were the rings that adorned his fingers in front of you—one of the few aspects of him you could always trust to remain constant. You watched him move his hand across. ‘—were meant to arrive here—,’ One straight line towards home with a dark, blotted circle on top of it. It made you wonder how long that ink sat upon the canvas. Had he written it once you came aboard, or had he been planning something much longer? Had your abduction been a plan all along? It was hard to imagine but not impossible. 

‘And now we’re… well, God knows where we are,’ he chuckled with wicked amusement, and you did not see the humour in being lost at sea. You did, however, see the irony of him speaking of God. He, a Satan’s spawn himself. It is ridiculous to think that he had the gumption to speak the Lord’s name so casually, especially with him being who he is. It simply did not sit right with you.

However, none of your concerns seemed to have drawn his attention as Munson went on: ‘I felt something was wrong as we were supposed to have arrived at Escondrijo last night, a rest stop we often sail past,’ he read out the name of this island right at your skin, the S slithering from his tongue onto you in shivers. ‘I thought maybe my calculations were simply off; the wind, after all, had not been the kindest. Of course, it could have been a delay– but alas.’ He clicked his tongue. ‘What we stumbled across was–’ He slammed his fist into the map, making you jump at the extreme action,  ‘Such a useless piece of land no one bothered to give it a name!’ He laughed away his frustrations, which chilled you to the bone. ‘Not even the damned sould that live there.’

Damned. That’s what he was. What all of you were as the ship sailed on.

You tried to take in everything that he had just told you. All the locations he had pointed to. Considering the unknown status of your location, the world must have turned upside down for you to arrive here. The fact the Hellfire had stumbled upon the nameless island must have been dumb chance in itself, and just as quickly as it had made itself shown, it was now becoming nothing more than a memory. 

Still, this island could be anywhere on the map, but it must have been close to the planned destination. The climate would have raised suspicions much earlier if it had been otherwise. And that is precisely what you suggested to the captain, hoping that giving him some kind of positive idea would direct him away from the anger he must be feeling. Not to mention, at this moment, you were both in trouble, in danger, and the only way out of it was to help him… as much as you disliked the idea of doing so. It was the only option. 

‘Yes, exactly. All my calculations had been perfect. That is why this is all so perplexing.’ 

You could name several more reasons why the situation was “perplexing”, including one thing you did not yet understand: 

‘Why did we even leave the harbour? Why not stay and orient yourself?’ There were people there, other sailors; naturally, someone could have helped track the right direction to sail onward to. Someone there might have had more information. Anything. 

And yet, the ship had already set sail into the abyss of the night. You could hear the waves sloshing around you, and when you turned around, the fiery light coming from the island was thinning on the horizon. 

‘You overestimate the usefulness of a drunken man. Or the charitability of a passerby in a midnight alley.’ Munson spoke, ‘Or perhaps, you simply underestimate my willingness to find a solution, for that matter. As if I did not try to ask for help—because, whatever you may think of me, I am not ashamed of seeking out outside recourses—’ There was that clicking sound of his tongue that announced nothing but smugness. Next thing you know, his arms had snaked their way down, wrapped around your middle, trapping your arms within his hold. His lips were at your ear, freezing you like a spell. ‘And here I thought you would know me better by now.’

You wished you did too, but the truth was much more brutal. With every moment you spent in the captain’s presence, he only seemed to be becoming more and more of a mystery to you. None of your million questions regarding the notorious Captain Munson had been answered. 

With a slow intake of breath, you spoke to him as calmly as possible: ‘Get off of me.’ 

‘Mmm,’ he hummed, swaying you back and forth, enhancing the ship's movements, ‘I don’t think I want to, princess.’ In reality, it was a loose grip that held no power, authority, or fear over you. All it did was plague you with his touch, scent, and sound; it was all over. You could feel him everywhere. The heat of his body was radiating onto you, boiling you alive. 

From this position, you could not see his face. Your peripheral vision only gave you a blurry profile of his features without indicating what he was doing. You both stood there for a long moment, looking at the map as if it would reveal some secret message. Something to magically guide you back on the right path. It was quiet around, with nothing else but the waves outside, the fire of the candles in the room flickering, and two pairs of lungs breathing. Two hearts, beating fast. 

His grip loosened, but you did not move. Too scared that any movement would remind him of you. Although, maybe he had not forgotten but simply lost interest, for the captain took a step forward, passing you right by. His eyes were locked in on a spot on the map. 

This silence had given you one thing, and it was the time to think. Maybe not clearly—that was barely ever possible with him around—but long enough to devise a train of thought. With that, one more question struck you. 

 ‘Why tell me all of this?’ Was he confessing this all to you because he was not planning on having you stick around for much longer? Airing out a confession to a soul that he had already sentenced, either way, leaving no trace of his mishappening behind? If that was the case, you had to leave this room quickly. Tell someone about all of this…Because what stopped you from going out there and telling everyone that their captain had failed them? Led them to be stranded at sea. This may be what you need. This may get them on your side. Maybe– 

‘Oh, it is wonderful how your mind works, princess.’ He turned around on his heels, and his hands found your shoulders, dug in like claws, shaking you lightly. Shaking you straight out of your escapist fantasy. ‘Truly, fascinating.’ The two last words burned with a growl. He chuckled a little bit more before redirecting himself towards his desk. The captain did not bother walking around the desk. Instead, he sat down on it and let his legs swing around, knocking several stacks of parchment onto the floor in the process. He did not even look down at the mess he caused. Instead, he slightly bent back to look down. His eyes shot down, an eyebrow was raised, and then he looked back at you. 

‘Nosy, were we, darling?’ There was a metal twinkle that piqued your interest, and you noticed the silver key hanging around his neck. He pulled it off and unlocked the drawer you had been toying with before his arrival. 

Had it surprised you that he pulled out a bottle of rum? 

Slightly. 

But you watched the captain uncork the bottle and take a large sip as he sat on the armrest of his throne. He was sloppy, and the liquid spilt down his chin. He was wiping it off as he extended his other arm towards you, inviting you for a drink. When you did not respond, the captain shrugged, mumbled something about stubbornness, and drank until barely anything was left. He put the bottle on the disorganised desk and roughly wiped his mouth with his sleeve. 

 He let out a satisfied sigh. ‘Mmm. Now, where was I,’ he tapped his fingers on his thigh, trying to remember the last seconds. Once he did so, he laughed.

‘It is so easy to think that one tiny mistake could cause a man’s respect, but these men—together with me, may I add—have been through a lot. We are a family, sweetheart, and family isn’t so easy to get rid of. No matter how hard or often you try.’ His dark eyes pierced through yours. ‘So, I hope you do not set your hopes on a mutiny too high because that just won’t happen. If my men wanted to get rid of me, they would have done so long ago. 

‘I’ve made much bigger mistakes that could have cost me my head, yet…’ he knocked his knuckles on the side of his skull, giving you an almost apologetic expression, indicating that he was still present and accounted for. ‘I’m sure they’re all aware of our little problem by now. Hell, it’s their fault, but I don’t want to vex them with this. They have enough work on their plates.’ 

‘So?’ You did not see the point of this anymore, not believing that he had no one in his crew that could help him right now. That would have been more helpful than you.

‘So,’ he mocked your inquisitive tone. ‘Out of everyone on board, you’re probably the last that needs a good night sleep–or at least can miss one.’ 

You wanted to argue with him, call him a monster for depriving you of simple decency such as a night’s rest, but then it dawned on you that he might have actually been right. While the floor gave you no comfort, you had, in a way, the luxury of sleeping as long as, and whenever, you pleased. Meanwhile, the crew got barely any sleep and then had to work most of the day to keep the ship afloat. That was a rationalisation of yet another lost battle, at least. 

‘Even if I did want to help you,’ you sighed in defeat, ‘how could I?’ You didn’t know how to steer a ship, let alone guide one back onto a correct route in the middle of the deep waters at night. Munson looked at you, still very much amused, and clearly held back his tongue with a comment on your words. Instead, he answered your question genuinely. Possibly doing so for the first time.

‘It is the middle of the night; the sky is clear,’ he spoke as if this all led to the most obvious of conclusions, ‘why not let the stars guide you?’ 

‘What makes you think I know how to?’ Did he think you had any experience in this field? ‘Well, I doubt you keep looking up there just because the stars shine oh-so charmingly.’ 

‘You do not think the night sky to be beautiful?’ You asked curiously. It would explain so much about the captain if he could not appreciate the simple beauty of such things. But, the man threw you in for a loop.

‘I do, but I also know it has many more functions than decor. You must know it too.’

‘I do.’ That was basic enough knowledge that you had picked up on as a young child, but was that it? Just because you were fascinated by the heavens did not mean you had any expert knowledge on the subject. Besides, where would you have even been able to acquire it? ‘And this makes you think I can steer us back on the right path?’

‘Call it intuition.’

‘And on the principles of your intuition,  you dare to put your fate in the hands of a…prisoner?’ You had never heard of such a tale for a captain to let his prisoner take the lead on the ship. Giving him their trust.

‘I think we are past such formalities, are we not?’ Were you? He must have read the doubt on your face, for he took the task of explaining: ‘You are no longer locked away; you have the freedom to go anywhere on this ship. I brought you a delicious meal—which I would still like to have received some gratitude for, but that is beside the point—and now I am asking you for your help. Some would say you are going up the ranks quite swiftly, princess.’

‘Funny, I do not recall you asking for my help at all? Just being locked away in a room for hours and given no choice but to do as you say.’

‘The pirate life!’ Munson spread his arms wide, slipping down into the seat of his thrown. You thought it would be futile to argue with him, seeing what humour he was in. The way he had just devoured the bottle of rum would not be helping your case.

‘Why me then? Why not do it yourself since you seem to know as much as me about the stars?’ You thought it would be easier and faster if he had done the work independently. It would already cost less time not to go through this discussion.

Like a thunderbolt, anger struck his face. ‘Because, I say so,’ he snarled before returning to his previous self, ‘and I thought you might like having something to occupy yourself with. Pushing around crates must become boring after sometime, does it not?’ 

‘How do you–’ He had seen what you had done with the lower deck. But… when would he have had the chance? You could not recall many instances, if any, of the captain coming down to see you after he freed you from your cell.

He pushed himself up from the throne and walked back over to you. Then, he began walking in circles around you, and you tried to keep up with him, but it quickly strained your neck. ‘Yes, I know all about your organizing down there. And about your inquiring nature.’ He nodded over to the desk you had tried to pry open. Something must have given it away. He clicked his tongue.  ‘Remember whose ship you’re on, darling. There is nothing that goes by around here without me knowing about it. If you do something, it’s because I let you do it.’

‘I hardly believe that.’

 ‘Well, believe this then: on any other ship, you could have gotten into a lot of trouble if someone caught you going through another man’s things—’

  ‘Don’t try and tell me all of that is yours. I know you stole it off other ships.’ You rolled your eyes. Munson played a victim, placing a hand over his chest, pausing in front of you with his big eyes, imitating hurt. 

‘Some of it very well may be. This,’ he flicked the collar of the shirt you were wearing, ‘for sure is.’ His fingers grazed at your skin, brushing over your throat hastily. ‘I could have you hung, you know. Or at least take off a few fingers.’

‘I doubt it considering you need me in one piece if you want my father’s money.’ 

‘Did you know there are hundreds of other man out there who’d pay double for a pretty face like yours?’ He waited for a crack to reveal the fear on your face and didn’t say anything until it showed. ‘Not to mention, I would not be risking arrest with them. Luckily, I am a man of my word. So, to your daddy you shall return.’ He reached for your shirt collar again, flattening it out carefully with a smile that could make you forget any of the horrific things he had just spoken of. ‘As I was saying, darling… I have a feeling you’d rather not end up like the other dirty thieves, so be a doll and prove to me that there was a use in letting you out of your cell after all.’ 

There it was. The reason for all of this. This was your punishment. Or some kind of redemption. He caught you going through his belonging, and now you had to pay for it— and pay with performing something you already felt to be impossible. 

 With him standing in front of you, hand still on your shoulder, you looked him directly in the eye. ‘How long do I have?’ 

The captain puckered his lips in thought and looked out the window. ‘As long as you can make use of the stars. Then I would really like to get back on course.’

Until sunrise, however long that could be.  You had a few hours to find your current location and a path back to where you were headed. 

‘What if I can’t do it?’ you pushed the question out of your tightening throat, scared of what the answer might be. 

‘That is no mindset for you, princess.’ He brushed some hair out of your face. ‘You’re too smart for that. Now go on; no need to waste even more time.’ And with that, he set you on your way. Or, more accurately, he let go of you and made his way to the bed on the opposite side of the room. In the meantime, you felt like your feet were nailed to the ground, unsure of what to do next, scared of taking the wrong steps. All you could do was look around as if the answers were hidden in the cabin. It had not even been a minute, and you could feel your heart getting stuck in your throat, panic setting in. To give up had never been a feasible option for you before, and it still pained you to think of doing it, but the words were ready to leave your mouth. You win. Your lips parted, and your vocal cords croaked when you noticed something. 

The letters were partly worn from contact but still reflected in the light. Either way, it wasn’t so much the letters that spoke to you, as you could not clearly read it from a distance, but the symbol above it. A golden star set on top of a leather book spine, winking at you in the fire.

Now with much more confidence, you took the needed strides towards the bookcase. It was pitch black leather, wrapped in a string to keep the delicate pages together. The book was situated on a lower shelf, pressed between other volumes, making it hard to remove. 

‘Need help with that, princess?’ Munson sounded from behind you.

Instead of responding, you pulled at the book again, and this time, it fell out from the shelf with a stir as a pile of books near it moved about. Still giving no reaction to the words spoken, you got up and moved to the desk, unwrapping the tie from around the covers and letting it fall open in front of you. The pages were nearly pristine, the ink dark, as if it had never seen the light of day. This ink depicted excellent illustrations of creatures and men. 

Despite being ignored by you, for once, the captain kept his distance and let you work while you searched for the correct pages. You could tell from notes that this was definitely the book you needed, as it told you everything you had to know, but the writing was small and not always legible. The pages were thin but rough to the touch. The writing was small, fitting as much information as the writer could cram between the covers. Most of it felt familiar, bringing you back to tales you had heard from your father or the governess. But navigating oneself with the stars' help required much knowledge and skill you still needed to possess. 

You tried to focus on it as much as you could, and yet, despite the silence and the space between you, you couldn’t stop glancing his way. The captain lay on the bed, his head toward the door, facing you. Each time your eyes met, you pulled yourself away from it, returning to the words and drawings on the pages, but you could constantly feel his gaze on you. It was unnerving. It was as if he was standing right there in front of you.

‘I promise you, I will be more effective if I do not have to endure your constant breathing down my neck.’ Maybe it was your surprisingly peaceful few hours in solitude on board, the tankard of ale streaming through your blood, or even the overall situation placing the captain in a new light, but you felt bold. ‘So, will you please stop staring.’ You looked up, not even surprised to see him still looking directly at you.

‘What would you rather have me do, darling?’ he asked, almost affectionately… though that could not possibly be what it was.

‘For you to leave, and do not call me darling,’ you dared to express. 

‘You want me to leave my own quarters?’ He raised a brow in humour. 

‘Yes, that is exactly what I want,’ you explained. 

‘Ah, well,’ he threw his hands up, rolling his eyes, ‘if it is exactly what the lady wants, that leaves me with very few options, doesn’t it?’ You watched him walk towards the door, perplexed at the ease with which he moved, …just to swerve around and lean against the door. ‘Oh, no, I suppose it doesn’t.’ He shrugged. 

You did your best not to pay attention to whatever the captain was doing—which, in that instance, seemed to be humming some song. You did not recognise it, nor did you have a need to learn it. Especially since, at this moment, any sound from him boomed in your ears like a canon. 

‘Must you be doing that? I am trying to concentrate for your own ship’s sake, if you do not recall.’ 

‘Apologies.’ He stopped, but the energy transferred into his legs, which shook his whole body with them, only softening the sound slightly, but the creaking of the wooden panels underneath him wasn’t much better. You couldn’t do this any longer. 

The only thing on your mind was frustration as you slammed the book shut, picked it up and walked towards the door. The captain took one smooth step to the side and, when you pulled at the door handle, had expected it to remain in its bolts, but it opened so quickly that your slight pull was enough to throw you sideways. The night darkness welcomed you together with the cold sea air and confusion.

‘How long has this been open?’ You did not want to look at him and did not need to. You could tell what kind of smile he wore and how he must have enjoyed this moment as he answered. 

‘Ever since I came back, princess.’ You could have left any time. You just took a deep breath and counted to three before turning his way and calmly saying something you had thought ever since your eyes fell upon him.

Well, at least better late than never. You stepped out onto the quarter deck without closing the door behind you. A man was half-asleep at the wheel, his entire body leaning on it. Luckily, someone had blocked it, avoiding the ship sailing in circles. 

Besides the sleeping helmsman, no one else seemed to be above deck, most likely in their beds as deep night had arrived. There were no lights besides the fire lit in the captain’s office, so you let the darkness take you as you walked down the stairs…. But midway, as the light from the captain’s cabin remained in the distance, you realised your mistake. 

‘For Heaven’s sake,’ you muttered under your breath and turned back around, climbing the steps, ignoring the burning hatred you felt in your body. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, you trotted your way back in. While your steps felt heavy, protesting your return into the room mentally, it was strange to walk so freely without all the layers your dress consisted of. With only a shirt over your upper body, you could feel each punch of the air on you, but in a strange sense, you welcomed it. 

But stepping back inside, you felt your body heat up again, mainly from embarrassment rather than the soft fire lighting up the cabin. It had not even been a minute, and you were passing the threshold again. You had not expected, nor wanted, to have returned so soon. If luck was ever in your favour, you would never see the interior in your life again, but, unfortunately, there was no escaping from this room for you, as you seemed to be coming back no matter what.

‘Back so soon, princess?’ In the short time of your absence, Munson had returned to the bed and tilted his head at your entrance, grinning, ‘You must have missed me more than I thought.’ 

You scoffed, ‘for your information,’ and grabbed a lantern on a dressing table closest to the door… which was still too many steps inside for your liking, ‘I am simply gathering some light. It is too dark outside, I cannot read what's on the pages.’

‘Ah. Is that all then?’ he asked, returning his head onto his pillow, closing his eyes as if he was ready for sleep, ignoring his clothes and the stoic position in which he lay. But as you moved around the cabin, he had opened one eye to look your way. ‘I’d suggest you take a jacket, princess. It can be quite cold out there.’

‘You could have made a fine gentleman, Munson.’ You held your head high, not looking at him. ‘It is a shame you let yourself deteriorate at sea like your ship.’ 

‘That actually almost hurt me, darling. I’m impressed.’ He chuckled, eyes already closed again. With nothing else to say, you passed the large wardrobe and walked straight out of the room. Once again, you walked down the stairs, celebrated when your feet touched the last step and walked onto the ship's centre. Along with the crashing of the waves, you could hear each of your footsteps. 

Something must have been in your favour, for the sky was without a cloud and in the darkness of the ship, you could see millions of stars twinkling. The moon was still but a sliver. It brought a similar-looking smile to your face. 

You searched for the page you had deemed the most useful beginning and spread the book in your arm. Now, with the book open in your arm, with the flames lighting the pages from above, you gazed up at the stars. After a short moment, this position would not be possible to uphold. The two objects you held were too strong to keep up in the air. Remaining as calm as possible, ultimately pressing the captain out of your mind, you reread the pages. 

To navigate through the stars, one must first find Polaris—the brightest star in the sky, right at the end of the Ursa Minor. The sky was clear, handing you the constellations on an onyx platter. The silver balls of fire were peppered around like crystals, gleaming and shimmering, but without a doubt, there was one that shined just a little bit brighter, calling to you with the direction of True North.

You had heard men talk of these methods at home and aboard the Red Tail, and they had always sounded relatively simple. If anything, you considered their constant complaints simply a part of manhood. Now that you were straining out your neck to look around at all the corners of the galaxy, you still did not think it to be much more complicated and so knew that the captain could not have felt any other way. 

You had figured out his plan to punish you, and now the rationale behind this specific task came to you. It would not have been unexpected if he tasked you with this hassling job simply because he was too much of a sloth to do so himself. There was still a dim light in the office quarters, so you assumed he had not gone to sleep yet… or perhaps fallen asleep with all the candles still flickering. For a moment, your mind wandered to where the candles tipped over, caught some of the wood around, and never stopped burning.

Just for a moment, until your lantern started to feel hot against you as you held it too close. It felt so heavy.  You had to set it on the ground, then sat down beside it with the book in your lap. 

Some time passed, but who knew how long precisely you had been sitting out there. Your knees had started to hurt, as well as your spine, but giving up was not an option. The ship swayed back and forth against the waves, blurring your view, only making things more complicated. The wind kept lashing out, but you persisted, trying to calculate the ship's position, flipping back through the book to the pages on which a map had been etched out. You would do this if it was the last thing you did. 

‘I will be done by sunrise, ’ you shouted as you heard footsteps behind you. The jingle of chains could have only been one person. You wiped some hair away that the wind blew in your face as you felt the captain’s presence behind you—like a deathly spectre hovering over you. ‘I– I promise.’ You said so more to yourself. Because while you had to prove yourself to him to live, you needed to prove to yourself that you could do this. You would persist and manage to find a way back home. 

The captain said nothing; he did not linger around, watching you. The only thing he did, was throw down a large coat onto the ground, which fell onto the floorboards next to you with a thud. You blinked slowly, then turned around to him, but he was already returning to the cabin. 

‘It will all be pointless if you freeze to death.’ And with that, he took his last steps and shut the door behind him. The light in his room immediately blackened, obscured by the stained glass in the small door window. 

You looked down at the jacket. Like all those the captain wore, it was black but heavily layered. Decorated in what seemed like hand-stitched gold but not in any fashionable manner. The stitching was uneven and needed a clear pattern. The sleeves were falling apart but tied together with what once must have been a silver necklace. Several of them, even. You glanced once more in the direction of the captain’s cabin before putting the coat on. It swallowed you up but immediately brought over a sense of comfortable heat over your body. The soft material protected you against the wind. Now not feeling like your bones were becoming icicles, you began to feel some pleasure in the whole thing. As you kept working, you slowly forgot why you sat in the middle of the ship and let yourself be emersed by the stars. Being out there on your own was actually freeing in a strange sense. The darkness locked you out of your extended surroundings, placing you virtually anywhere.

Well, not anywhere. The constellations held the password to where you found yourself, and you would decrypt it anytime now. 

But first, you needed to stretch your legs. The cracking of your joints was enough of a sign that you had sat on that floor long enough. With the lantern in hand, you walked in circles around the ship. The light swung in motion to your steps, in motion to the waves. When you looked out at the sea, you were greeted with two moons. One hung still in the sky while her sister swam in the waters. Mirrored images of each other, smiling and frowning in both directions, but never in reach. Conflicted, perhaps or maybe they simply managed to show you bits of yourself there?

You wanted to say something to them as you stood there, but no words felt right. So, peaceful silence it was. However, the longer you stood there, the more of an effect you thought from the hours you spent on the deck. And there was still so much you had to do. But you could do it. 

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you leaned against the railing, placing the lantern beside you. The yawn pushed passed your lips without a choice but plenty of resistance. If you stayed there, you would probably fall asleep soon, which is ineffective. So, you grabbed the light, and with your free hand deep in your pocket to keep warm, you returned to your star gazing spot. But not one step in your brisk walk back, you halted. A feeling of something cold and hard against your hand occupied your entire mind there and then. When you pulled it out, you were unsure what it was, but the mechanism must have worn out through the years because it fell open in your hand, revealing a rose. Its arrow pointing right at you. 

A compass. 

Your head immediately shot toward the captain’s cabin, but the lights had gone out, and there was nothing more to make out of the darkness. Your eyes shut into narrow slits. He had brought you his own jacket and must have known what was in it. 

The question now was, why? Why did he give it to you? Was he trying to help you by giving you this tool? Did he think you needed help to get anywhere? Well, you certainly did not. Especially when it could be a trap. The device could very well be defective and put you on the wrong trail, and then, if you were to give the captain the wrong directions, you knew he would not waste a second by punishing you. And this time, correctly. 

Still, according to your calculations, North was meant to be behind you, so in that, the compass was correct, but you did not want to risk anything. An instinct told you to throw the thing away, right over the railing into the sea. Let it sink and make the captain watch. Just like you had to watch, your own ship disappear into the waters. It would have been a small taste of revenge, but it was a start. 

The idea faded as soon as you shut the compass. You looked at the engraving on it—a detailed depiction of a bird–which kind, you could not quite tell. Perhaps a hawk… could it be… no, you doubted it was a Redtail. It could not be. The simple idea of that brought chills down your spine. How could Munson possess such an item; engraved with your town’s crest? 

And it was old. As you had noticed, the clip keeping the two halves together was tethering on falling apart from frequent use, and the window of the rose was cracked. The metal of the shell had finger marks faded into it from the usual position it was held in by hands much larger than yours. 

Not wanting to see it again, you pushed the compass deep down the pocket you had found it in. Determined to have the images erased from your mind by the rest of your task and the time pressure put on it, you retrieved your book. 

It was harder done than said.

As you stood there, book and fire in hand, spinning around to position the stars as you pleased, the tiny silver lights blurred in your eyes. But you were so close, you could not stop now, not when you were so close. Ignoring the burn of the compass at your thigh as your mind whirred with solutions. With North decided for, and with the latitude… no longitude— and if the charts were pointed this way— then, God, you could not keep this book up anymore. Your arm screamed from the weight of the pages. 

Back on the ground, you resumed your final observations. Flipping between the map and the charts, exchanging glances with the book and stars. Yes, if that was North, then… then… you checked the map once more, locating your home definitively. 

You did it. You actually did it. It could have been minutes, maybe hours; you could not tell with certainty how much time you had spent on the task, but as you shut the book, so did your body. You fell back onto the deck with a tired smile. It could have been the fatigue, but the stars shone slightly brighter for you, gleaming with pride. 

They also became blurrier. Your eyes turned heavy. But you kept staring up with a smile. At least, you do not remember ever stopping. Even if it is possible you fell asleep at some point, you could not tell at what point exactly. All you knew was that you dreamt. And for once, your mind was free of nightmares. As much as your world was free of them, at least. But it had to be a dream. 

How else would he appear out of the shadows?  Why else did you see him looking down at you; impossible to tell for how long. His features free of anger, mischief or bad intentions, unnatural. He stood there at the balustrade next to the helm. It was impossible to tell how long he had stood there in the dark. 

And his walk. It was utterly silent, free of chains or heavy steps. That could have been only your brain letting you rest. His touch was feather soft as he picked you up in his arms. 

You shouldn’t have stayed out here this long. He sighed in disappointment, but not in you.

You told me to— you mumbled. 

I know. The floor became unstable. You were floating in the air, rising up. Only his hold there to keep you grounded. The one time you should have been stubborn and not listen. Why did you not just go to bed?

I want to go home, Eddie. Why else would you say this if it was not a dream? You could never imagine yourself opening up to him this way. Let him carry you like that. And if you had, it would never feel this good or safe to be held by him. 

I know. He repeated himself. There was a shift. No longer in his arms, you were floating on a cloud, but his voice echoed around you. I’m sorry.

None of this could have been real. These could not be the words of captain Munson. But they still stayed with you as your dreams ventured on into other stories. All just as pleasant, the nightmares of all the nights before merely bad memories, never to be repeated again. 

I did it, you said quickly before he disappeared, to be replaced by your new figment. North East. Go Northeast.

Here is your final reason. The proof you had dreamt it all. A silent moment, full of hesitation. Then, a fluttering touch of lips on your forehead and a hand brushing your cheek gently. If this had been real life, you would have turned away and let yourself burn in anger, but instead, your lips formed into a smile, and for the first time in forever, you felt at peace. 

And just like that, like in any other dream, he was gone while your mind brought you to other fantastical places and told you stories you would not remember. It was a night of wondrous bliss, of rest. Filled with dreams as the stars watched over you. 

Only at daybreak did it all change. When the morning sun glowed golden through the large window. Only at that moment you began thinking that maybe, just maybe, you were wrong. Perhaps not all of it had been a dream, for when you woke up, you were not on the ship's deck nor down in your cell. When you woke up, you did so in a bed.

The captain’s bed, of all places. 

Chapter 5

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson au #pirate!eddie #pirate!eddie munson #au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #fanfiction series #eddie munson series #eddie munson writing #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #imagine #pirate au

[sagaduwyrm]

Yo, I wrote something.

It Matters to Have this Ghost Clan Near (This Family I Never Knew)

Held prisoner by an alien god-monarch, the only way the Justice League is getting out of here is by proving they have family waiting for them. This is easy enough for Clark and Bruce, but of Diana's family her mother isn't exactly easy to contact, and her relationship with the rest of her family is... complicated.

Luckily, just because he's dead, doesn't mean Kronos doesn't still care about his granddaughter.

"Clark. Bruce. Leave me here." Wonder Woman snarled the words as fierce as her heritage had taught her, and it only made Bruce more furious about the entire situation.

"Well? Have you made a decision yet? We won't wait forever." The alien monarch lounged on their throne, an ugly, amused glint in their eyes. It made Bruce want to break something, but the trio were outnumbered and far from home, and they were only getting out of here at all by the grace of the monarch's will.

He hated foreign gods. The ones on earth were tolerable, some, like Diana, he even liked, but gods from other worlds didn't push his buttons so much as they stomped on them with soccer cleats.

Wonder Woman was becoming visibly panicked. "Friends. Shield-brothers. Leave."

Bruce ignored her and tried to think of a way past this. The mrydonians and their god-monarch were fond of keeping people they found interesting. Anyone with any kind of power who stumbled into their lonely corner of the universe tended to find themselves stuck. They had even managed to trap gods before; the god-monarch reigned over the very concept of mrydonian space, and it allowed them to win out over gods of lesser or more distant domains. Diana, as the goddess of heroes, was below such a powerful genius locus, and the sun wasn't the kind that could fully power Clark up, preventing them from fighting their way out.

Thankfully, there was one loophole. The mrydonians held family sacred, even above their only god, and if they could prove they had family waiting for them they would be let go.

A quick call back home had settled the matter for him and Clark. His kids had answered the phone immediately, as had the Kents. Unfortunately, what little of Diana's relatives she considered true family were out of contact. They just needed one person who could claim her and mean it, but although she was close with a number of people, including his family, they had always labeled it as a friendship. He was kicking himself for that now, but how was he supposed to know—

"You can not find family for her then?" The alien's smarmy voice interrupted his thoughts as the being's smile widened. "She will just have to stay here then. We are so glad to host her—"

The doors, enormous and more literal incarnations of the god's power than physical objects, slammed open with a bang that echoed through the room. The god's head jerked around and they began standing up. One of the priests screamed, "Who dares intrude upon this sacred space?"

Between the open doors stood a boy. A teenager really, with floating white hair and inhuman green eyes, wearing a black and white suit. He waved. "Hey. I'm Danny." His bright smile was incongruous with the tense atmosphere, and every fiber of Bruce's being screamed with wariness. "That's my cousin over there. You know, the one you're planning on keeping prisoner."

"What. Diana—"

Clark was turning to her as Diana kept her eyes on the new threat, and she hissed back. "I don't know Clark. You've met all of my family. I don't know this boy."

The teenager in question stalked forward down the court, stopping between the god and the three justice league members. He moved oddly, too flexible and not as affected by gravity as he should be, and Bruce carefully took notice of what he saw. Oftentimes, when a being was non-human, the weak spots Batman depended on in a fight were in different places, so close observation was necessary if things dissolved into a battle.

The monarch's next words were an affronted rumble that did not lower Bruce's worries about a fight. "She does not know you, boy."

"No," Danny agreed. "We haven't met. Old family disagreements, you know the drill. Grandfather didn't want to impose, and I followed his lead." He tilted his head like a cat. "Doesn't mean I can't claim her, though."

"Grandfather?" Diana muttered next to Bruce in confusion.

The boy turned to her. "Mmhmm. He would have come himself, but by the time he saw what was going on, he was in the middle of something that would be dangerous to put down. He couldn't get a hold of your father, so he sent me instead." His face morphed into something bashful for a moment. "Sorry, I'm so late."

"It does not matter that you are late," the alien monarch snarled. They were fully standing up now, holding a dangerous-looking spear in their hands. It didn't look like the rest of the mrydonian weaponry Bruce had seen. He wondered if it was stolen just like they stole people. The god continued, "She does not recognize you as family, it is not mutual, it does not matter."

"See, that's where you're wrong," Danny exclaimed cheerfully. "By your own words, you 'respect other cultural understandings of family than your own.' Well," the boy bared his teeth in a grin. He had far too many of them, and they were far too sharp to fit in the reality Bruce knew, making him wonder which branch of Diana's family tended towards the Eldritch. As the boy spoke, the words began to gain a hint of static. "In the culture of my people, one can claim another as family without it being mutual and it still holds up in a court of law as long as the other does not outright refute the relationship." He swiveled towards Diana. "I assume you're not?"

She shook her head even as her eyes remained hawk-fierce on him.

"So, I may not be her cousin, but she is mine, and since that would be accepted in my culture, you have to let her go, by your own rules."

"Do not patronize me in my own domain, boy." The ground shuddered with the god's words.

The teenager snarled right back, a deep rattling thing that reminded Bruce of an avalanche, and he lifted off the ground. He had a cloak that looked like someone had woven the night sky into armored cloth and a sword of black ice on his hip. Neither were there a couple of seconds ago, yet they felt like they'd been there the whole time. "Try me," Danny snarled. "My own domain isn't as far as you think."

The air grew tenser and tenser before it finally snapped. "Fine! She is your family. You may take her. Leave now or my generosity may not hold." The alien god stormed out with their head held high, but there was a definite sense of loss in the way they retreated.

Danny turned back to them. He landed on the ground in front of Diana, missing his war regalia again.

"Sorry that took so long! He was surprisingly stubborn."

"It's fine," Diana said warily. "Thank you… cousin."

The boy's eyes widened before he started to beam.

Diana continued. "Can I ask who is the grandfather we're related to?"

"You know him as Kronos."

All three of the Justice Leaguers froze. Diana's mouth gaped open and closed like a fish, but Clark at least managed to keep his wits about him. "Kronos is dead."

Danny turned to him curiously. "So?"

"So he's not alive," Clark stressed. "He couldn't have sent you."

Danny looked at him for a moment and burst out laughing. When his laughter calmed he said, "A god is still a god when they are dead, and the soul of a god is not nearly so easy to destroy as the body. Who do you think has been repairing the time stream after all the time travel you heroes do?" he asked wryly.

"If Kronos was still existent," Diana said firmly, "we'd know. He'd have already tried to take the cosmic throne again."

The teenage… being's gaze was inscrutable. "Would he? Really? Where are you getting that information?"

Diana sputtered. "It's common knowledge!"

Danny said dryly, "So you don't even have a first-hand account?"

"Well I certainly haven't seen any evidence to the contrary," she snapped back.

Danny was suddenly the most serious Bruce had seen him since he entered the palace. "He likes baking. He makes amazing persimmon cookies, and he's been trying to figure out a cinnamon roll recipe he likes. One time when I was upset he tricked the Observants into dying their capes rainbow. None of them ever figured out it was him, but he still brings me back to that moment when I need cheering up." The boy's expression softened as he looked at the woman who he had claimed as a cousin of his own accord. "When he realized he wouldn't be able to come himself to help you, he was furious. He had to use a lot of power to get me here on time, but he would have thrown away twice as much if it was for family."

Diana's face was working its way through a series of emotions, and Danny seemed to grow embarrassed by everything he'd said. "I should go so you can get home. I hang around in Illinois if you ever want to find me." He lifted off the ground, reaching out to tear some kind of portal open in the air. He turned back for a moment before he left. "Grandfather goes by Clockwork, nowadays. He'll answer to that if you ever need him." Then the boy was gone.

#danny phantom #fandom stuff #dp x dc #danny fenton #diana prince #wonder woman #Clockwork is Kronos #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover

[yuesya]

The sky is dark.

Even during daytime, the sky is dark, almost as if it were evening. A perpetual twilight. It’s a sight that is very much unnatural, yet there’s very little that is natural about the world nowadays. Not since the day when a horde of cursed spirits suddenly manifested in the heart of New Shinjuku with no warning whatsoever, promptly plunging the freshly-rebuilt city into chaos. And almost as if it had been a signal of sorts, similar incidents had swiftly spread across the globe in the days that followed.

Armageddon, some called it. The End of the World. As the catastrophe progressed, the environment itself changed as well in reflection of the disaster ravaging the now-hostile, dangerous world.

“So this is where you’re hiding, huh?”

Shiki turns around and cranes her head to look upwards. “… Satoru-niichan?”

Her cousin pats her on the head, and plops down on the stone ledge next to her with a gusty sigh. “Needed a break?”

Shiki doesn’t respond to that, instead drawing her legs closer to herself and burying her face into her knees. She receives another headpat from her cousin.

“I get it,” he says. “It’s a lot. Sorcerers aren’t really supposed to do much aside from just killing cursed spirits, but look at us now –shining paragons and defenders of the last, greatest bastions of humanity. What a joke, right? Like, what do I know about running cities or maintaining infrastructure or resource allocation?”

“People are grasping at straws,” Shiki says quietly. Between the two of them… it’s definitely Satoru-niichan who bears the heavier burden. But even so, despite all the responsibilities that he’s laden with, he still does his best to look out for her in moments like these.

The knowledge lights a spark of warmth inside her chest.

“Yeah, they most definitely are,” Satoru-niichan sighs. “And sorcerers happen to look like they have the longest straws, no thanks to the entire mess back in ‘18.”

“… Geto-san’s Cursed Spirit Manipulation would’ve been nice to have right now,” Shiki props up her chin with a hand. Considering that the entire world was overrun with cursed spirits, his cursed technique would’ve been an excellent counter.

He might even be the new ‘Strongest.’

… Although, if Geto-san were still alive, he probably would’ve set off to make his own stronghold, one that strictly, specifically only protected sorcerers.

Shiki sighs.

“Oh, and you know what else would be nice to have? A good bowl of cream anmitsu.”

The girl blinks in surprise at the sudden non-sequitur, and gives her cousin a side-eye.

“What? I thought we were indulging in a bout of wishful thinking here,” the young man sticks his tongue out at her. Food is growing scarce; most fruits are dried or preserved –and that’s to say nothing of how ice cream and such frozen desserts of the like are a luxury rarely seen anymore. Sugar is rationed and restricted, as is salt. “Although I’d take konpeito, too.”

Konpeito would definitely be easier to obtain than something outrageous like cream anmitsu, especially the specific type that Satoru-niichan had once been so fond of.

“Hmm… I think I’ll try to get my hands on some konpeito once we get back to the Tokyo base,” Satoru-niichan decides. Then, with a teasing grin directed towards her, “I might even share some with you if you ask me nicely!”

Shiki rolls her eyes, “I don’t like sweets.”

“You don’t like sweets? Still?” Her cousin shakes his head, “Ehh… you’re really missing out, cute little cousin of mine.”

“Pass.”

“See?! I think you could definitely use a bit of sweetness to lighten up that doom and gloom,” Satoru-niichan informs her, and stretches. “… Man, there’s nothing like an apocalypse to make you realize that so many good foods out there can disappear forever just like that. Once this is all over and everything is on the proper road to recovery, I think I’ll go on a world tour and try out allll the local delicacies I can find.”

“… You mean all the local sweets?” Shiki says dryly.

“Ha! Are you sassing me?” Satoru-niichan sits up straight and laughs, delighted. “See if I bring you along for my future gourmet adventures, then!”

Shiki dips her head and bites back a small smile.

… 

The sky is still dark and dreary. But somehow, by the time that Shiki returns to the encampment with her cousin, things still seem to be a bit brighter than they previously were before.

#writing #zenith of stars au #hsr au #nobody asked for apocalypse stuff #but hey #more context! #things were hopeful in the beginning #then there's a wave of fear and horror when people start turning into cursed spirits... #but that's a story for another time #:D

[kippah-for-lemon]

A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO,

a neighborhood science teacher asked if I believed that the Genesis account of creation was true. I answered, yes. Great, he said. Would I like to speak to his class about my understanding of creation? This modern-day John Scopes thought he was inviting a modern-day William Jennings Bryan to reenact the classic duel.

However, I told the class that while I believed the Genesis account of creation to be true, I also believed the scientific theory of evolution to be true. My response was greeted by puzzlement on the part of twenty-five eighth graders and disappointment on the part of their teacher. I went on to explain that science is one of humanity's great truth traditions, and religion is another. The two have threatened each other since well before the theories of Charles Darwin were formulated. But they needn't be engaged in such a heated rivalry because their goals are so different.

Science can help us understand how the world was created, but it can't tell us why it was created. And religion has no business telling us how the world was created, but we desperately need it to help us under- stand why we're here.

Genesis doesn't discuss the survival of the fittest, but, as you well know, Darwin's scientific creation story does. That story's operativeprinciple of the survival of the fittest became known as Social Darwinism, which taught that only the truly gifted deserve to survive. It is unfortunate that this teaching has become an axiom of modern life. In contrast, our Jewish tradition has always taught that we are responsible for the survival of the least fit: the orphan, the poor, the lonely, and the stranger, to name just a few. And in Genesis 1:27 we are told that every single human being is divinely gifted and deserving of dignity. The opening of Genesis tells about the creation by God of a universe of harmony, balance, and beauty, formed from soupy chaos, tohu vavohu. It is the most profound story we know, and it reminds us why we are here. It sets forth our work, and our challenge. But is the story true?

Regretfully I must admit that the story is not true, or at least not yet. When will it be true? When we accept our responsibility as God's partners in creating the world described in Genesis.

-Rabbi Rick Jacobs (b. 1955)

An excerpt from my Temple's Rosh Hashanah prayer book. Under the cut is just a testimony from me but feel free to reblog for the quote alone.

It really stuck with me because I was raised Protestant. I even attended a private Christian (nondenominational) school for three years. Sixth through 8th grade (for non-Americans, I was the ages of 11-14 give or take).

I was taught that evolution wasn't real. I wrote an 8 page essay on why Charles Darwin was wrong and that The Bible was correct. Little did I know I actually did believe in evolution, and so did most of my peers as I reasoned that over a long time of adaptations maybe there could be a different species

I was shell shocked when I switched to a public high school (14 years old) and flat out told evolution was true (or well as true as a scientific theory can get). I lost my trust for authority, and I realized how damaging my education had been.

I'm AFAB, and so I was taught my responsibility was to be quiet and to please my husband. I often asked far too many questions, especially when it came to the teachings of the Bible, to the extent my own teachers, men and women who were supposed to nurture my curiosity and be my guide into the world, shunned me.

Starting my Jewish journey, I sobbed. I sobbed after the first service I went to. It's so different from what I had been through before. I'm so glad I'm allowed to ask questions and it's even encouraged. I'm glad the Torah is scrutinized and we are encouraged to study the book and even admit when G-d has done wrong.

My partner, knowing my past, pointed this specific excerpt out to me. I had to fight back tears. I feel so loved and welcomed in Judaism.

"...Jewish tradition has always taught that we are responsible for the survival of the least fit: the orphan, the poor, the lonely, and the stranger, to name just a few. And in Genesis 1:27 we are told that every single human being is divinely gifted and deserving of dignity."

#jumblr #jew #jewish #rosh hashanah #Rabbi Rick Jacobs #jewish tumblr #jew convert #jewish convert #jewish pride #jewish joy

[saturnxgojo]

How he got his vision // Scaramouche x god!reader (pt 2)

✦ Pairing: Scaramouche x god!female!reader (she/her pronouns)

✦ Summary: He broke her heart with those five words, but what happens when she sents him a letter? Wishing to meet him one last time

✦ Warnings: angst, happy ending, inazuma archon quest spoilers, scaramouches real name is used so spoiler for that, more angst, i didnt know how to continue this so its a bit weird, scaramouche lore spoilers ig, ooc scara lowkey

✦ A/n: idk what to say

✦ Wordcount: 1100

✦ ATTENTION!!! do not copy. translate, remake my work, i do not give you permission to so dont do it. also GIF not mine, credits to the creator.

part 1

She hesitated as she stared at the blank paper.  Her pen was shaking in her hand but eventually she started writing. 

Dear Kuni

The paper was thrown across the room with the help of a gust of wind.

Dear Scaramouche,

Since you didn’t wish to hear my words in person, I hope my letter can explain. I really do wish you read this through, for your own sake.

By now both you and I are aware of who I am. You know who I am connected to in more ways than one. I share my power with him, yet also my weaknesses. It is a tale well known around Mondstadt–in other regions too perhaps–of the Archons who abandoned their people. Who disappeared for years and years. 

My brother and I however do not control it, we fall in a deep slumber when fate finds it necessary. Hence I was not able to respond to your prayers. Even though I heard all of them. Well until the darkness took over.

I wish you to know that I reached out to you with all of my power, but it didn’t work. When I awoke I searched for you. I reached out to you, I wanted to find you, but I couldn’t find a trace. I eventually reached out to Yae Miko after a long time and I heard the story from her side.  What happened to you- what Ei did to you isn’t what you think. I wish to explain it to you, to tell you the truth. 

Please, meet me tonight as the sun sets, at the place we first met. 

She sent the letter on its way, hoping he would read it. 

She could only hope he did as she made her way to that same mountain she had hundreds of years ago. Her hands were placed on her lap as she sat down on that same spot. 

She waited, and waited, until the sun had long set. She would wait all night if she had to, even if this were to be the last time she saw him.

Scaramouche had cursed under his breath as he saw the paper flying towards him. Of course she’d do this, trying to win him over. He told himself that he’d only read the paper to get a laugh out of it, nothing more. But as he read it he couldn’t help feeling–he didn’t know the word for it. 

So in the end, long after she said to meet him, he walked to the destination. It wasn’t a long walk from where he was staying.

Both of the non-humans admitted they were scared–perhaps a bit happy too–to see the other again. He did not understand his emotions–he was supposed to be unlovable, his mother made sure of that. She did understand her emotions–to a certain level. She understood that this could very possibly be the last time she saw him, but also that if he came to meet her it would mean he still cared enough about her.

The minutes passed and the sky turned a deep blue, bright stars shining down on Tevyet. And then, finally after an hour of waiting he appeared in her vision. 

Scaramouche walked that same road he did a lifetime ago, this time with more confidence–and power. Though as he walked here old memories came back to him, and suddenly he was that frial, scared and weak little boy again. Sobbing in the middle of the road, until a strange girl with a glowing orb on her hip came up to him and held him in her arms. Calming him down and slowing his tears. Then she gave him something that changed his life; a vision. 

“If you ever need anything, just call out my name.” she had promised, and she did as she promised, for a while. Then, she abandoned him like everyone else did.

Scaramouche snapped back to reality when he heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching. Before he turned around he wiped away the tears on his cheeks he didn’t even realize were there. 

When he turned around he was met with your tired and puffy eyes, he could see no sign of the warmth they once held, they were empty. 

“Speak,” he said, kinder than he intended to.

Your eyes were locked on his as tears dared to fall down while you spoke. “I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“No, not that. About- about my mother.”

You swallowed deeply. Scaramouche had to stop himself from forcing himself into your arms–to feel your body warmth seep onto him, or hear your soft voice hum a melody, to have your fingers brush his hair as he let go of emotions while his tears soaked your shirt.

“Your mother- your mother didn’t abandon you, she set you free in the world because she didn’t have the heart to get rid of you. She didn’t have the heart to kill you because you reminded her of herself too much, she would never have forgiven herself if she- did. So she set you free in the world to live a happy life.”

You went on, and on. And as you did Scaramouche felt the tears coming back. 

The pain in your voice, the emptiness in your eyes- it broke his heart. Had he truly meant so much to you? Had you truly loved him? No. No that was not possible, he was unlovable. 

“I wanted you to know the truth. And perhaps to see you again one last time. Seeing I don't know how this night will end.” 

It was the first tear that slipped out of your eye that made Scaramouche break apart. He took a step towards you and pulled you against him, it didn’t take long for your legs to give out as the two of you sank to the ground. 

One of his hands was wrapped around your waist as the other one held onto the back of your head; holding you close. His tears soaking your shirt. 

“I don’t think I ever lost faith in you- deep down I always knew you’d come back.” 

Your hands were entangled in his hair as you sobbed.

“I did everything I could to- to wake up- but the darkness- it was too powerful.”

It felt like a part of you came to life again, a weight lifted off your shoulders. 

And so it happens, that even the wishes of gods can come true. For now the Archon and Fatui harbinger would be okay, and that was all they cared about.

The end.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

idk what this is tbh, but yeah hope yall liked your food xx

tags: @sx0leillia

#genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #scara #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #scaramouche x reader angst #scaramouche x reader smut #genshin smut #genshin angst #kunikuzushi #scaramouche genshin impact #genshin imagines

[m3gumix]

Lovesick ; Chainsaw man

Characters : Power , Angel Devil , Beam Warnings : NOT PROOFREAD. masc pronouns for reader in Power's part , gender neutral / non-binary pronouns for Angel Devil and Beam. Possibly ooc for everyone- [ uh the Beam & Power one were made specifically for @rayuki and someone else ..& I asked for them to give me scenarios with their favs while I made the Angel Devil one for myself- ] Synopsis : Them falling inlove with the reader and/or love at first sight. Basically just as the title says..Lovesick Request[s] : #1 ; Power : "Power seeing someone outside of Aki's apartment while home alone and gets bored so she says hi to them" #2 ; Beam : "Romantic scenario let’sss seeee uhhhhh he wants to hold ur hand but is a little too nervous so he tries to find ways to let you know he wants too. Or he tries to find ways to build up courage to ask you- either is fine." A/n : Hello loves! I'm finally writing again! This time for chainsaw man because the anime was hype and I'm having a csm brainrot. I'm taking Chainsaw man requests!! NO NSFW. Other than that enjoy <33

Denji and Aki left power to watch over the apartment. Why? Who knows, perhaps they couldn't trust her enough with this mission. "But then why bring Denji?" She's repeated that sentence in her head over a million times. Before they even left Aki had told her to not go anywhere and to not open the door for anyone, would she listen? Probably not. But she hasn't done anything yet...surprisingly, she's just been sitting with Meowy while rolling on the floor. "Can you believe them Meowy! How rude of them to leave me here by myself- I should've just went anyway! As a matter of fact- I will! They can't tell me what to do!" She stood up with a huff as she put on her shoes and began stomping to the door, slamming it open she kept that pout on her face til she noticed a male leaning on the railing infront of Aki's apartment. He had the uniform on, what was he doing here? Was he sent to watch over Power? "That's ridiculous! I can watch over myself!" "You! Why are you here! Who are you- Did Aki send you to come watch me! Well I can watch myself I'll have you know-" She yelled at y/n as he just turned around, a confused look on his face. He chuckled at the confusion washed over Power's face "I'm just here to get some fresh air..no need to be so angry." She slowly put her arm down and blankly stared at the male. "If you're not busy, would you like to stay with me for a bit?" Trying to break the silence , Y/n asked Power a simple question that he hoped she would respond too. She narrowed her eyes at him and thought about his offer. "Hmm...Fine. I suppose I could spend my time with you, human." She proudly smiled and she walked towards the male. The two of them continued having a conversation about random things, just to pass time, it was mainly Power talking about anything and everything but they enjoyed each other's company. These conversations went from minutes then quickly to hours long. But sadly it had to end when Y/n got called for a job. "Ah- sorry..I gotta go..I got called in. Wait- I never got your name?" Power stopped her ranting and stood proudly with her hands on her hips. "The name's Power! Be happy that I chose to waste away my time with you, Human!" Y/n only stared at her before smiling and tucking away some of her hair behind her ears, "Hello Power..the name's y/n." Power's eyes went wide as she stared back at him as he parted his hand away from her and began walking away. She felt something completely new- something she's never felt ever, it was like....this warm feeling in her cheeks. Was it getting hot in here? Why does it suddenly feel like her face is burning- Oh silly Power, you're inlove!

"It's so hot...can we go get another icecream before working again." The red headed devil slowly followed behind you while yawning. You kept your eyes ahead.. ignoring any sighing and groaning the small male let out. "As much as I'd really love too, Aki would kill us if we did." You reasoned with Angel, continuing to go to your location. "How about when we're done I'll get you some more, 'kay?" He looked up at the sky in thought, silently pondering your offer for a few minutes before finally responding. "You promise?" "I promise." The both of you continued to walk in silence before you heard Angel's groaning again. "Something's in my eye...I can't get it out.." Turning around to see what he was complaining about , you noticed his eyes seemed to be watering a bit. You sighed as you pulled out a tissue from your pocket and leaned a bit closer to his face. "There..all done. Your eyelashes are pretty long, that's probably what was in your eye." He stared at you with his usual blank face. You both stood there looking at each other in yet again, another comfortable silence. "Hey...there was this movie I saw, a man and a woman were standing like this.." He took a small step forward towards you before continuing. "They were about this far from each other,..and then they kissed." You slightly tilted your head in confusion. "What's your point?" Angel looked away and sighed , "I've never done something like that, and probably won't. Things like that never really interested me it just- never mind.." You sighed and put the tissue over your mouth, you leaned even closer to Angel as his face slightly scrunched up a bit as if he was confused. When he was about to ask what you were even doing his eyes widened when you put the tissue over his mouth and leaned down to give him a soft kiss over the thin cloth. "There, was that okay?" You stepped back as he looked down, touching his lips before letting out a long groan and crouching down on the floor as he felt his cheeks heat up a little bit. "I...I can't work anymore today.."

Living in a beach house was probably one of the best choices you've made, you get to go out to the ocean...nice views...a lovely house not near too many people, and then....Beam. A fiend that you've become friends with..I suppose? You could say atleast, he'd visit you pretty often whenever you were just relaxing outside or just whenever he saw you he'd come running- Speaking of which, he was sitting next to you right now. It was night and you decided to just sit outside and look at the stars and as usual, Beam came to see you. "Hello Beam, it's nice to see you again." You smiled as you looked at him, Beam flashing you a toothy smile in return. "Yes! Nice to see you too!" You chuckled at his response as you looked back at the sky, Beam rocked back and forth as he looked up as well. There was silence between the both of you but you felt as if someone kept staring at you. To relieve your curiosity , you turned to face Beam...ah..Yeah, he was staring- He let out a startled noise when you turned to face him before quickly looking back. You brushed it off as just you catching him off guard, but as you continued to look at the scenery you could see Beam out of the corner of your eyes turning to look at you once more. "Ah- uhm!" You turned to look at Beam as he started talking, "yes?" He continued looking at you as he fumbled with his hands a bit, you rested you hand in your palm as you patiently waited for him to let out whatever he needed to say. Whenever Beam seemed to be around you , he always felt much more happy than he usually is. He'd feel his face heat up at the warm smile you'd always give him when he was around.. But at the same time,..as much as he'd want to hug you and such like he does with Denji..he never seems to have the courage to do so. Why? He's never felt like that before? Your eyes widened and you let out a small gasp as Beam grabbed your hands in his. "Beam..thinks your pretty! The most beautiful human alive!" You stared at him with wide eyes as you felt your own face slowly heating up. You both stared at each other in silence before you laughed. "Thank you Beam, but you're much prettier than I am."

#chainsaw man #csm #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #angel devil #power csm #csm power #power x reader #angel devil x reader #beam #beam csm #beam x reader #anime #manga #god i love them #chainsaw man x you

[guardian-of-da-gay]

Family Ties

Read it on Ao3

Tails slid the rental skates off his feet.  They were just a bit too small.  He’d have to ask Mom to get another pair.  That was probably okay, though.  She had said to let her know if the size was wrong.  It wouldn’t annoy her if it wasn’t.  Probably.

He looked up and watched as she handed Knuckles his own pair of skates.  Tails noticed right away that the skates had laces.  Knuckles looked at them and Tails could practically hear him thinking ‘what am I supposed to do with these?’  He looked between her and the skates and back, but she was sitting down and pulling on her own.

Knuckles looked out at the rest of the skaters and Tails did too. There were only a few other families (who were obviously trying not to stare at them), but as far as Tails could see, everyone else's skates had laces.  But there must’ve been non-lace shoes, right?  Mom had just accidentally gotten the wrong kind for Knuckles too.

Tails watched closely.  If Knuckles pointed out the mistake, he could probably tack on that he needed different skates as well.  He felt more comfortable with that.  Knuckles opened his mouth to say something when–

“Sonic, wait!  You have to switch your shoes first!”  Mom got up and hobbled off wearing only one skate.

“I wanna see if I can run in place on the ice!”

“I think you’re just as likely to run right into the side of the rink.” Dad steered Sonic away from the ice.

“Aw, come on.  Just one lap?  I’ll go so fast they won’t even see me–”

It looked like this was going to wind up being a debate, Tails thought.

Knuckles watched them, fiddling with one of his backpack straps.  That had been a debate too.  Mom was worried if he carried the Master Emerald out on the ice he’d fall and hurt himself landing on it.  Knuckles refused to leave it behind or even far out of sight.  In the end, she’d allowed him to carry it in a backpack in exchange for him giving in to their other debate: whether or not he should wear a coat.  (Tails didn’t mind having to wear his own jacket and scarf though, it was chilly here and he didn’t have his winter fur yet.)

Knuckles glanced his way.  He watched as Knuckles’ eyes slid down to the skates in Tails’ hand.  At least they were in this together.  Maybe they could solve the problem together too.

Tails hopped down from the chair, sliding his shoes back on.  “Um… I’m going to get some different skates,” he said before he could overthink it.  “Do you want me to ask for snap shoes for you?”

Knuckles scowled and stood.  “I can ask myself,” he grumbled.

But Knuckles let Tails lead the way from the stands back up to the rental counter.  Which was weird.  Usually it was Tails following as Knuckles loudly declared to the cashier: ‘My brother requested NO pickles!’  Instead, Knuckles kept looking around, which made Tails feel like he had to look around too.  One thing he noticed: no one was wearing snap skates.

Tails hated talking to cashiers or… any customer service kind of person.  It made him anxious.  But since Knuckles was being weirdly quiet, it was up to him to do the talking.

“E-excuse me,” he asked, standing on his tip-toes to see over the counter edge.  “Can we swap lace skates for some snap skates?  And switch sizes?”  He set his skates on the counter.  He hoped that was okay.

Humans always either acted like Tails was some weirdo freak… or that he was really cute.  The guy behind the counter smiled real wide and Tails knew that here it was the latter.

The clerk leaned over the edge of the counter so Tails could step back and didn’t have to stand on his toes.  “Hey, little guy!”  He said in a candy-sweet voice.  “You said you want ‘snap skates’?  What’re those?”

“Oh, um… you know… like snap shoes?”

The clerk looked confused.

“Um… button shoes?  They’ve got little magnets in them?”

Now he looked even more confused.  Tails hadn’t expected this.  He glanced back at Knuckles.

“I think they do not have any,” Knuckles said.  “It is alright.”

Tails wrung his hands, his tails twisting around each other.  That wasn’t right… Knuckles never gave up when Tails said he’d just wipe off the pickle juice.  Tails couldn’t give up now!  He turned back to the clerk.  “Aren’t there any skates without laces?”

“Oh, like velcro?  Sure, little guy.  What size do you need?”

Both of them perked up at that.  Tails looked excitedly back at Knuckles.  His big brother stepped forward, holding up his laced skates.  “I require an adult human male’s ‘size twelve’.”

“Oh.”  The clerk leaned back and looked at Knuckles in surprise.  He wasn’t giving him the ‘I think you’re a freak’ look, but he definitely didn’t think Knuckles was cute either.  “Uh… sorry, man, we only have velcro skates in kid sizes.”

Knuckles’ shoulders slumped along with Tails’.  “Um… you don’t have any other kinds of no-lace shoes?”  Tails asked.

Knuckles had already turned and walked away before the clerk could finish apologizing again.  Tails wavered between following and staying to mind his manners and thank the man before he remembered he needed to switch his own skates.  As soon as he had the new size he hurried back to the stands, feeling extra aware of all the strangers glancing his way.

Knuckles was sitting with the family again, his skates on the floor beside him.  He watched Mom watch Sonic tie his skates.  “Remember to get them good and tight,” she said.  “It’ll hurt your ankles if they’re loose.  And tuck the extra string into the lower straps–yeah, like that–that way you won’t accidentally trip on them!”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it Mom.”

Dad looked up from tying his own laces and saw Tails standing there holding his skates.  “You need help, bud?”

“Oh!  No, I’m okay.”  Tails hopped up to sit next to Knuckles and pulled off his shoes.

He thought Knuckles would ask for help.  Or… more likely Mom or Dad would offer.  But Knuckles didn’t say anything and–

“Last one on the ice is a rotten egg–and it’s even a fair fight ‘cause I cannot run in these things!”  Sonic yelled.

“Hang on, let me put my purse in our locker.”

“Should we put our shoes in there?”  Dad asked.

“Oh yeah!”  Sonic said.  “I was just hearing on the news about this ‘Stinky Shoe Bandit’!  Better be careful, Dad!”

“I doubt anyone is going to steal anybody’s shoes.  And even if they do, we can always buy new shoes!  But my wallet is definitely getting put away.”  Mom hobbled off toward the lockers and Dad hurried to follow Sonic.

Nobody remembered to check on Knuckles.

Tails stared down at his socked feet and the skates with their long, skinny laces.  He realized with mounting dread that he might need to offer Knuckles help.  Knuckles!  He was good at pretty much everything… except anything to do with technology.  But other than that, he could do anything!  Except… he couldn’t tie laces. 

But some species just weren’t built for stuff like that!  Their fingers were too short or their claws too long or they had webbed fingers or… whatever!  The point was it happened plenty on other planets and there were usually other options available.  Apparently not here though.  Here, it looked like it wasn’t something people really thought about.  Maybe that was why Knuckles was being so quiet… across the galaxy, people would look at his mitts and his snap shoes and know.

Here Knuckles had to admit he needed help.  And he never needed help.  He was the one who gave help.  That’s probably why Mom and Dad hadn’t thought to offer… and why he wasn’t asking now.  And why he’d probably just get annoyed with Tails if he tried to help.

His conflicted thoughts must have shown on his face.  “What is wrong?”  Knuckles asked.

Tails looked up in surprise.  “Uh…”  A perfect lie suddenly hit him.  “I need help!��

Knuckles perked up.  Always ready to assist.

That thought had Tails plucking up his courage.  “Tying these skates is kind of tricky…” he said.  “Could I practice with you first?”

“Oh.”  Knuckles frowned slightly.  Tails could see the gears turning in his head.  Was tying skate laces really that much different from shoelaces?  After a second, Knuckles shrugged.  He didn’t know enough about tying laces to call Tails’ bluff.  “You may practice on me,” he said.

Tails hopped down from his seat, breathing a subtle sigh of relief.  Knuckles snapped the magnetic tops off his shoes and pushed them aside with his foot.  Then pulled on his skates.  Once they were on his feet, he stopped and looked up at Tails.

“L-leave it to me!”  Tails replied, standing up straight and proud before he knelt down and got to work cinching the laces.

He pulled the strings tight around Knuckles’ ankles just like Mom had said.  “How’s that feel?” He asked.  “Too tight?  Too loose?”

Knuckles rolled his ankle a little.  “It is sufficient,” he said.

Tails got back to it.  It was a little weird tying shoelaces from this side of the shoe.  Plus Knuckles was watching him like a hawk the whole time.  Tails had to restart once, which probably helped sell his lie that he needed practice.  He managed to get the first skate tied before there was a loud thump! on the dasher boards across from their seats.

“Wait, Knuckles, is Tails tying your shoelaces for you?”  Sonic cried as his face popped over the top of the boards.  “Oh my god… can you not tie your shoes?!”

Knuckles’ quills bristled.  “Of course, I can!”  He said too quickly and too loud.  He was such a bad liar.

“Wait, what?”  Dad asked as he came up behind Sonic.

“It is nothing,” Knuckles said at the same time as Sonic announced:

“Knuckles can’t tie his shoes!”

“He can’t?”  Oh dear, Mom was back too.

Knuckles crossed his arms with a huff.

“You can speak like a billion languages but you can’t tie your shoelaces?”

Knuckles gave Sonic a dirty look, but before he could say anything, Tails piped up:  “That’s not nice, Sonic!”

He immediately wilted as his whole family looked at him in surprise.  Oh gosh… he’d scolded Sonic!  He’d just been so surprised that Sonic would tease Knuckles about something he couldn’t change… But of course now he thought about it, Sonic grew up around humans.  He probably thought it was a ‘knowing’ issue and not a mechanical one.

Ears folded against his head he dedicated his full attention to tying Knuckles’ laces as quickly as possible.  If he’d looked up he would’ve seen the very pointed look Mom was giving Sonic.

“Uh… okay, point taken.  Um.  Sorry, Knux?”

Knuckles just let out a grunt.  He was done with this conversation.  But Mom wasn’t just yet:

“I’m sorry too, honey.  I should’ve checked if you needed any help.”

“I don’t need help,” Knuckles said.  “Tails was only practicing his lace-tying skills on me.”

“So… Do you know how to tie laces?”  Sonic asked.

“Do you know how to shut up?”

“Okay, neither of you two talk to each other until Tails has his skates on,” Mom declared.

Oh gosh… Tails wasn’t sure if that put pressure on him to go fast or slow.  He tied them quickly, just in case.

“Fine!”  Sonic huffed and disappeared over the boards once more.

“Fine,” Knuckles grumbled.  He stood from the chair.  And nearly fell over.

“Oh, careful!”  Mom sounded like she was trying not to laugh as she grabbed his arm and helped him stand upright.

“These are hard to walk in!”

“Yeah, they’re not really built for walking in, but they’re perfect once you’re on the ice!”  Mom knelt and checked the lacing on Knuckles’ shoes.

“Good job, bud,” she said to Tails.  She checked Tails’ laces too.  With her back to Knuckles she met Tails’ eye and whispered.  “Thanks for looking out for your brother.”

Tails flushed under his fur.

“What was that?”  Knuckles demanded.

“I said maybe when we get home, we can all practice tying laces together?”

Knuckles frowned.  “No, thank you,” he said.  He didn’t elaborate further, just crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Tails expectantly.

Tails’ eyes flicked between Knuckles and Mom and back.

He didn’t say that Knuckles should explain a bit more to Mom, but he definitely thought it.  Knuckles must have picked up on it; his expression shifted into a scowl.  When he turned back to Mom his mouth was twisted into a grimace.  He held up a mitt.  “These are not really built for tying shoelaces… But they are perfect for punching!  Also digging!  And swimming and climbing too!”  He bumped his fist over his puffed up chest.

“Okay…”  Mom said.  She looked down at Knuckles’ gloves and then her eyes slid to his discarded shoes.

Knuckles must have felt like he’d sufficiently proven echidna capability, because he wibble-wobble-walked off to the gap in the boards with his head held high.

Tails glanced back at Mom and saw her picking up Knuckles’ snap shoes curiously.

“Um… Are you coming, too?”

“Oh, yes. You go on ahead.  I’ll be right there.”

There was a bit of a clog at the rink entrance.  Sonic was taking a little bit of extra time figuring out skating.  He clung to the railing while Dad ran through the basics. Knuckles stood at the threshold, listening in.  Tails came beside him and realized that he couldn’t reach the railing.  Uh-oh.  Well, that was alright.  He could learn without the figurative training wheels.

Knuckles let out an annoyed hum and Tails instinctively cringed.  Was Knuckles annoyed that they’d been caught by Sonic?  That he had to explain himself to Mom?

“You are too short,” Knuckles said.  He grabbed the edge of the baseboard with one mitt and held out the other.  “Hold on to me.”

“Oh… thanks Knuckles.”  Tails took the offered mitt.  Knuckles’ mitt was practically as big as Tail’s whole torso so his hand looked extra teeny tiny in his older brother’s giant fist.  With Knuckles leading the way, they took their first unsteady steps out onto the ice.  It was nice that Knuckles had offered to help.  Made him feel… the opposite of how being scared of annoying him felt.

“Oh, Tails!”  Tom called from where he was trying to get Sonic to stand right.  “Do you want a bucket?”

“What?”  Tails looked up to see another little kid scooting around the middle of the rink, using a stack of upside-down buckets to keep his balance.  The kid was staring at them of course, but a sharp look from Knuckles made him stop.

Tails appreciated the ingenuity of the bucket but… he looked up at Knuckles who looked equally unimpressed with the technique.  “Um… I’m okay,” he said.

“You sure?”  Tom asked.  “The bucket won’t fall down and take you with it.”

“I will not fall!”  Knuckles said, outraged.

He fell immediately.  Then Sonic laughed so hard that he fell too.  Tails avoided the pile-up only because Knuckles let go of him.

“Alright, we will try this again!”  Knuckles said, determined.  “Hold my tail and I can use my arms for balance.”  He turned and pointed his funny crooked tail in Tail’s direction.

“Uh… won’t that hurt if I fall and pull on it?”

“Of course not!” Knuckles boasted.  “The bend is for little ones learning to walk to hold onto!”

“Really?”  Tom and Sonic asked as one.  Sonic’s skepticism was undercut by the way he was slowly and unintentionally doing the splits against the boards.  Tom rushed to rescue him.

“That is what my father said…” Knuckles trailed off like it’d only just occurred to him that might’ve been just a little kid story.  “Regardless, my tail is very sturdy.  Much stronger than yours.  You can pull all you need.”

The little tip wiggled like it was waving to Tails to go on ahead and grab it.  Tails hesitantly took hold.  It felt like a rock covered in bristles… just like all the rest of his brother’s ‘one million percent muscle’ body.

“Okay, I think I’m ready to try again!”  Sonic said.  He pushed forward, moving along with half his usual grace.  Tom kept close to his side, glancing back at Knuckles and Tails and looking around for Mom.

Knuckles took a few experimental steps forward, dragging Tails after him.  

Tails wobbled and bobbed, his tails whipping this way and that as he tried to keep his balance.  Knuckles glanced back at him over his shoulder and he feared for a moment that he was tugging too much.  “You know, you do fly with your tails.  They must be quite strong!  Have you ever tried lifting weights with them?”

“Oh, um…”  Tails' knees shook as he tried to keep his balance.  “I’ve lifted you while flying, does that count?”

And then Knuckles actually smiled!  Tails was so surprised–he could count on one hand the number of times he’d made Knuckles smile.  Distracted, he stumbled and wobbled, trying to keep his balance while his feet kept moving without him.  Even when he thought for sure he would fall, Knuckles’ tail was completely firm and still.

“Lean forward more,” Knuckles said.  “And bend your knees a bit.”

“What he said,” Dad added.  “It helps if you lower your center of gravity.”

Tails thought his center of gravity was easily the lowest in the whole rink, but he did what they said.  It did help.

Knuckles focused his attention on the ice below them, taking smooth, short steps.  Tails watched his feet and tried to move the same way.  Knuckles’ movements became more confident, but Tails was still unsteady.  He looked up at his big brother’s broad back and watched how his dreads swayed from side to side over the back of his backpack,  purposefully shifting his weight with each step.  Tails mimicked his movements, stepping in time with Knuckles.  Immediately his movements felt smoother.  He was getting the hang of it!

Mom skated up beside them.  Like Dad, she didn’t need to hold the wall at all.

Dad looked over expectantly.

“I put Knuckles’ shoes in our locker.”

“Because of the Stinky Shoe Bandit?”  Sonic asked as he did a funny T-pose shuffle across the ice.

“Because I realized his shoes would be harder to replace if someone decided they wanted to steal shoes–”

“Because they’re so stink–”

“Because they’re special shoes from outer space.”

Knuckles puffed up at that.  “My shoes have received a place of high honor!”

Sonic rolled his eyes so hard he lost his balance and had to cling to the wall.  “That’s literally nothing to brag about,” he said.

Knuckles huffed.  “Well then, how about this?”  He let go of the wall and pushed away, skating around Dad and Sonic and pulling Tails after him.

“Woah!”  Tails cried out in surprise and delight.  He hung on tight, keeping his posture like Dad and Knuckles suggested.  Knuckles was going fast enough to blow his bangs back and Tails tummy flipped whenever his balance shifted too quickly.  But it was fun!  Like flying, but even easier!

When he realized Knuckles wasn’t going to return to grabbing the wall, Tails focused on copying his movements.  It was just like dancing with Sonic–all he had to do was follow his brother's lead!  Halfway around the rink, he had it down.

“What the heck, you hadn’t even heard of ice skating this morning!” Sonic said as the two of them passed him a second time.

“I am a fast learner,”  Knuckles gloated without stopping.

“Tell that to our last two microwaves!”

“I cannot hear you because of how much faster than you I am going!”

The third time they passed Sonic, Tails felt confident enough to slowly let go of Knuckles’ tail.  His older brother looked over his shoulder, slowing as Tails came up beside him.  He wobbled a little, but stayed upright.

“You are a quick learner too!”  Knuckles praised.

Tails flushed under his fur.  “Heh, I um… I had a good teacher.”

There was a loud thumping and scuffing sound and they both looked over and watched as Sonic hurried across the center of the rink, pushing an overturned bucket in front of him.  Halfway through he jumped up and sat on top, letting his momentum carry him.

Knuckles and Tails stopped as Sonic drifted to a halt in front of them.  “I have decided,” he said magnanimously.  “Since you two are both so slow off the ice: I will be a gentleman and let you take the W here.”

Knuckles shot Tails a cocky grin.  “Perhaps I should teach Sonic now too.”

Sonic leaned back on his bucket with a frown.  “How come I can’t tease you about the shoelaces, but you can tease me about ice skating?”

Tails suppressed a wince.  Knuckles probably wouldn’t like the reminder.  But Knuckles must have been having too good a time, because he actually answered: “Because my fingers cannot bend that way, but your feet work just fine.”

“Touche.”

“Also I was not teasing that time.  I thought it might be more helpful to receive training from someone more similarly proportioned to you than Tom.”

“‘Similarly proportioned’,” Sonic repeated.  He looked Knuckles up and down then looked at Tails.  “Okay, maybe between the two of you.”

“Tails can help too!”

“I can?”  Tails didn’t think he was that good yet.

“Yes, you are very good at being a helpful brother!”  Knuckles smiled at him and there was a knowing gleam in his eye.  Maybe Tails’ lie earlier hadn’t been that good after all.  But Knuckles didn’t seem mad at all, he actually seemed appreciative!

“Alright, I’ll allow the both of you to help me.  But first!” Sonic tipped his head to the side and Tails followed his gaze to see Mom and Dad skating along the wall, holding hands while Mom showed something to Dad on her phone.

Sonic shifted on the bucket so he was seated squarely and held out both hands.  “You two can pull me!”

“And that will help you learn?”  Knuckles asked.

“Nope, but if you pull me super fast and let go I’ll go flying and it’ll be awesome!  But we aren’t supposed to do it so that means we can only do it once.”

***

“One more picture!  Sonic demanded as they stepped off the ice.

Tails fumbled after him.  It felt weird walking after skating so long!

“One sec!”  Dad said, pulling his skates off.

Mom had already taken lots of pictures (some very sneakily while the three of them had been goofing off on the ice), but she and Dad seemed to be game for any photo opportunity where Sonic would voluntarily stay still.

Sonic was busying himself taking a bunch of silly selfies with the bucket when Tails noticed Knuckles sitting on the bench behind Dad.  The corners of his mouth slipped down as he looked down at his skates.  He probably couldn’t untie his shoes either.

Mom appeared, kneeling by Knuckles’ feet with a smile.

“Let me help you get those off,” she said.

Knuckles’ expression crumpled into a pout and for a second it looked like he was going to insist on doing it himself.  Mom handed him his snap shoes.  “Also here’s these back from the honored locker.”

“Ah!  My shoes return, victorious!”

“What did they win?”  Mom grabbed one of his skates.

“Most important shoes!”

She laughed, undoing the knot and uncinching the strings in quick, smooth motions.  “Dad and I were thinking about getting some hot cocoa, what do you think?”

“I think that I like cocoa.  And it will help to warm you up.”

“Warm me up?”

“Both of you!  You fuss over us to wear these–” he pulled at his jacket “--over our fur when you have no fur of your own!  I worry, you know.”

Mom beamed.  “Thank you,” she said.  “That’s sweet of you to worry.”  She patted his ankles.  “And you’re right, I could use some warming up!  Get your shoes changed and we’ll go get in line!”

Knuckles looked down to see Mom already had his skates undone.  He looked like he’d hardly realized when she’d done it.  Honestly Tails was impressed, but Mom liked to tell stories about vets needing fast hands so he shouldn’t be surprised.

“Hey Tails!”  Sonic appeared in front of him, pushing the bucket into his hands.  In a second he was behind him, hands under Tails’ arms, and zooming the both of them over to Knuckles.

“One last picture!” Sonic ordered.  “Us and Bucket Buddy!”

“I agree, we should commemorate Sonic’s noble steed.” Knuckles patted the top of the bucket.  “Thank you for throwing Sonic into the wall.”

“I’m pretty sure that was you.  Using your strength when I said not to–”

“I did not!  It must have been Tails.”

“What?!”

“Alright, I’m ready,” Dad said as he pulled out his phone.

Sonic leaned in on one side as Knuckles leaned into the other.  The air was quite cool but Tails felt very cozy with his brothers on either side.

“Smile!”  Dad said.

And Tails did.

#my art #my fic #scu #sonic the hedgehog #knuckles the echidna #tails the fox #miles “tails” prower #sonic wachowski #knuckles wachowski #tails wachowski #wachowski family shenanigans #sonic the movie #sonic movieverse #disabled!knuckles the echidna #(sorta... by human standards) #social anxiety!tails #wachowski brothers #big brother!knuckles #little brother!tails #knuckles-centric #knuckles angst #knuckles fluff #wachowski fluff #tails fluff #sth fluff #sth fic

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

I'm going to expand on one more deranged (very unlikely) theory before I go to bed.

So, many people have pointed out that Fyodor's last words were Jesus' as well, shortly before he died and was resurrected three days later. @originalaccountname makes an excellent point that the other side of the Page was set to be activated on the next full moon... which is in three days.

But I also suggested that Fyodor did something to Sigma - and here's how we can merge these theories, through the power of flex tape and my egregious lack of sleep.

Here's the thing about Fyodor's ability. We still don't know how it works but many people have commented on how he only seems to use it on non-ability users - and it kills them instantly. Blood spurts from their heads. We've never seen him use it on an ability user... so many people assumed it couldn't kill them. When Fyodor lets Sigma take the information from him, Sigma sees everything and passes out, comatose from sheer information overload. But it's entirely possible this is not the only thing Sigma "received". Fyodor simply allowed him to read whatever he wanted, and his ability also works through touch. Is it possible Fyodor's ability activated too?

If that's the case, what did it do?

Well, this was where I kept saying - guys, I think the split personality has an element of truth to it. While that performance was all an act - perhaps it draws from the truth of Fyodor's ability. Maybe the killing people part... is actually the ability not working the way it is supposed to. Then what else could that action of allowing Sigma to read him (and thereby making contact) be, but some kind of precaution in case he were to die?

I'm suggesting that Fyodor's ability may involve some kind of possession. A possession through corruption over time.

If that's the case, it would make Fyodor something that perhaps was once human but is no longer - if he's been surviving by transferring himself to others through his ability, then might it be said that he has ceased to be truly human? We know abilities require human souls... but what if both a person and their ability were to transfer to another body - would the body not have to be suitable to harbour an ability? It implies ability users are the only ones who are suitable "hosts"; for people without abilities, they cannot take the strain of the invasion of Fyodor's being and die instantly.

Fyodor is likened to a demon or conjuror. If he is able to hijack others' bodies, then that's rather like a demonic possession. What does this have to do with Crime and Punishment? Well, I won't speak on the book itself, but I will say that in Dead Apple, Fyodor says "I am crime" and his ability responds with "I am punishment".

He sees the two concepts as "close friends". Crime as the body, punishment as the ability. Two possible interpretations - one, Fyodor learned how to cheat death using his ability, which is a "crime" that he commits to carry out his "punishment" on those who are sinful (this "crime" could've been learned by poking around human brains, which may explain why he knew how to give Ivan and Nathaniel a lobotomy lmao). The other is that the "crime" is whoever he happens to be inhabiting (as an ability user, he sees them as sinful innately), and the "punishment" is inflicting his ability on them to corrupt them and take control. In other words, his true punishment can only be inflicted on ability users - death is not punishment and is seen by him as release.

There's also the final words he says, which are Jesus'. I want to go back to Sigma for a second. A man written into existence from nothing for some as yet unknown purpose... Is it possible he will awaken three days from now?

If so, it's possible he could use the Page on the full moon, goaded into it by the piece of Fyodor that was transferred to him, in order to actually, properly resurrect Fyodor, and/or slowly take over Sigma's body and mind as he gains more control from the inside. That is all.

Hope this was at least coherent. I can barely keep my eyes open I'm so tired

#storyrambles #i know i sound insane. i don't really put a lot of stock into this 'theory' if you can call it that #just having fun with the weird concept that popped into my head and wouldn't release me until I wrote it #help #bsd #bsd season 5 #bsd spoilers #bsd fyodor #bsd sigma

[heartfullofleeches]

Home

Yan Demon Harem + G.N Priest Reader Blurb

Priest Reader returns home for some relaxation after a stressful day at the church.. or strip teases in front of the insatiable demons within their residency. Spicy stuff here mdni.

Home at last.

Just in time too. Your face muscles were a smile away from permanent freezing in a mocking grimace of your silent torment, and the rest of your body wasn't fairing much better either. It's your own fault for leaning an ear to a community that does nothing but bottle up gossip all week long. If you had to hear about another alleged affair or congratulate another person's grandchild's achievements your head was going to explode.

What you need now was to get out of your stiff clothes and unwind in the one house more sanctum than the home of your lord. Palm on the handle, you rest your body weight on the door as you grab your keys. Shifting on your feet, the door creaks open before the proper key is halfway through the lock. Strange. Must've forgotten to lock the door. Suppose that even at the start of your day you were already exhausted. You take a deep breath and your first step.

"I'm home!"

Cool wind comprised of fragrant air surrounds you as you enter into the living room. Mountain breeze, the most neutral and non-offending scents of the candles you received. It worked well to cover up the stench of sulfur and ease you away from the dull ache splitting up the back of your skull. The observant eye would come to notice that not a shadow clung to the walls of your humble home. The couch, the table lamp, your own figure - all missing from their assigned place. It's only when you remove your rosary that these silhouettes return; the outlines of the inanimate objects contorting and bending to impossible shapes around the human shadow amongst their horde. Your teeth chitter as intangible whispers flood your mind and overflow into the very core of your soul. Popping your collar, it stops - a slick wetness pooling along the slip of your skin. You reach over your shoulder, swatting at the air.

"I'm not ready for this heat. It's colder than an icebox in here and I'm already sweating up at storm. Best to get out of these clothes before I melt."

Voice smooth and welcome like warm honey, your scripted cluelessness mocks those you have willing allowed within your domain. Mortals leagues above you in earthly power had fallen to their temptations many a time before, yet they all swarm in desirous wait for the taste of one human form. Your figure released from the unflattering bulk of your robes, their eyes drink every curve the remainder of your clothing had yet to reveal. You start by kicking off your shoes and working out of the pants to relieve your legs of the strain - claws ghosting up the back of your thigh just out of reach of sinking in your flesh as you walk over to the couch. Legs strewn over one arm and your head against the over, you curve into the seat of the couch as your hands wonder between the first and second button of your shirt. You hum to yourself, spreading the opening wide with your fingers.

"This is comfortable enough already. I think I may rest here just like this."

Talons inches from grazing your skin, the buttons of your shirt scatter to the floor as your shirt is ripped off you. Crooked fingers guide your gaze up to the shadow looming above - impatience written in its returning glare. It hisses and buckles to your reach, raised canines a mere bite away from your arousing lips.

"Priest....we grow bored of the games you play. We play by your rules and avoid the members of your church... What does that give us?"

"Some of you have already wised up to the fact it's first come, first served."

The final article of your clothing removed during conversation, a heavy tongue presses from your sternum to between your legs as they're held apart by the second demon's broad shoulders. You arch as the slithering mass finds its way to your entrance, grinning at the other unfazed besides the knee jerk reaction. Frustrated to have lost this round, it rams its scarred and coarse lips against yours before straightening and shoveling its length down your throat. Trained with handling your demons before hand, you need little time to adjust despite all it gave you. A demon, but one with a heart nonetheless. It groans as you stifle a laugh, easing your tongue a vein treading your lips. Its hands find perch on your throat as other greedy hands already taken hold of the remainder of your exposed body, working you through the girth that splits you from the other end and attempting highs of their own from your irresistible and sought after flesh. All this jostling was making you more tired, but their endless touches and words of praise washed off some of your fatigue. It was nice to know that some people actually appreciated you, and would take good care of you. One of the many perks of being home.

#Priest reader #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere teratophilia #yandere smut #yandere demon x reader #yandere harem