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m1d-45 · 10 months

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for all to see

summary: fontaine’s court of law is questionable on a good day. on a bad day? well…

word count: ~1.2k

-> warnings: you die, blood mention, spoilers for fontaine archon quest (only names of things), potentially ooc neuvillette(?)

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr

< masterlist >

despite being the nation of justice, fontaine was not known for its fairness.

trials took place in opera houses, the prosecution focused not on proving their claim, but to put on a show. the citizens didn’t care for the outcome if it wasn’t amusing, the archon known for throwing fits if things were too boring. to survive was to be entertaining, painting as many coats of shimmering blue over your soul until it was shiny enough to go outside.

obtuse laws hid around every corner. no floating objects for the first three days of each month. no fonta was to be brought into any government buildings, unless the date was a prime number, in which case it could be any flavor but strawberry. mechanical pens had long since been invented, but had to be classed as a meka, which required a permit that far outweighed the price of the pen itself.

nothing made sense. even neuvilette, as well versed in the law as he was, did not understand the reasoning behind most of these rules.

however, there was one that he backed entirely, the very first law ever established in fontaine—arguably in teyvat as a whole, the very notion of such a crime pulling disgust regardless of origin.

‘Any person or persons found to be impersonating the divine creator, with the exceptions of roles within an opera or other such performance, shall be punished with the full extent of the law, up to and including the death penalty.’

“defendant, do you have any evidence to refute ms furina’s claims?”

you said nothing, staring down at your hands. you’d stopped pulling at the cuffs that bound you to the railing, leaving you still as stone. your entire appearance was disheveled, a result of the nearly year’s long hunt for you. part of him felt pity, but he quickly dismissed it. you deserved this—provided you didn’t, somehow, have evidence to the contrary…

you looked up, overgrown hair falling into tired eyes. you were dirty, dark crusts of blood lining hairline scratches all over your face and arms. you didn’t say a word, but he found himself avoiding your sharp gaze quickly, inspecting your wrists instead. raw, angry, the metal cuffs unkind.

“if you wish to think, say so. if your silence continues, i will be forced to move on.”

you looked back down to the banister wordlessly, the crowd murmuring at your silence. he ignored them.

“we now turn to the oratrice mecanique d'analyse cardinale to render the final verdict on the charges.”

the oratrice clicked and clunked, gears spinning and meshing as the machine drew its conclusion. blue faith filled the tubes within the walls, collecting, then were pulled back in relative quiet. now would be when the scales would return to normal, but he hadn’t heard them tilt at all during the trial… he pushed aside that train of thought once again. he was getting distracted too easily considering the importance of this trial.

he picked up the verdict from the oratrice, addressing the crowd. “according to the judgement of the oratrice mechanique d’analyse cardinale, the defendant is…” his breath skips as he opened the small folder, something in his chest twisting violently. “…innocent?”

how?

furina sat up in a hurry, the audience clamoring for reasoning, but he barely hears anything. if the oratrice itself declared you innocent, then…

behind furina, his god also stands, cold eyes staring into the crowd. “calm down, everyone. it’s clear this fraud has simply tampered with the oratrice.” your head snapped up as neuvillette closed the pages from the oratrice, sending it back down the chute.

“my god, i can personally assure you that the defendant has not had the opportunity to-“

“silence.”

he bowed his head when they turned to him, mouth dry. something was off about the situation, but what?

“since we clearly have all the evidence in front of us, i think we can safely override the oratrice’s rule.”

“divine one, in fontaine law it clearly states that the oratrice-“

“and i’ve stated that it can be overruled. which is more important, fontaine’s laws or divine laws?” he couldn’t speak. “clorinde, my bow.”

he watched as clorinde produced a bow, as quiet as the crowd below. nobody could say a word—the death penalty hadn’t been imposed in fontaine for years… but this was a special case..

black steel arrows reflected light into his eyes as the creator pointed them at you, his heart thundering. the air was always polluted in fontaine, but it felt twice as oppressive now.

“chief justice. i can’t get a clean shot.”

neuvillette bowed once more, feeling cold. he weaved through the private hallways of the opera house, making his way to the defendant’s balcony.

he didn’t even know your name. you’d refused to give it- refused to say anything, really. how his god had arrived at this verdict was beyond him… but he could not overrule the divine. he opened the door to the balcony, uncertainly stepping to your side.

this was wrong. he could hear it begin to rain, water pattering against the windows, but all he could tangibly feel was confusion. he knew something was wrong, but what?

he lifted his hand but you beat him to it, lifting your head as you turned to face him. “step back,” you mumbled, and he found himself obeying in the split second before the arrow struck. bright blue blood flew into the air, landing right where he would have been.

you didn’t want him to get blood on his clothing.

the rain picked up, lightning striking close and shaking the floor beneath him. the whole house gasped, all eyes turned to you as you collapsed. he couldn’t look away, not when he heard the sound of a sword—clorinde’s, likely, furina was never one for a fight—or the shouts of the gardes. he was paralyzed, watching blue spread out beneath you, reaching the edge of the balcony and beginning to drip.

he’d known. he’d felt it. and yet he was powerless to stop your death, the one he- the one they all perceived as divine pinning down teyvat. he should have known from the moment they overruled the oratrice, should have seen the blue tint to your scratches, should have asked for more evidence before- before—

rain came down in hails, his hands shaking as he stared at the injustice before him.

#genshin #genshin impact #sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #sagau neuvillette #neuvillette #neuvillette angst #genshin angst #sagau angst #genshin impact angst #gender neutral reader #hi. i have been watching miraculous ladybug and have not devoted any time to genshin. uhm.

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tteokdoroki · 11 months

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Aali!!!! I was gonna put this in the tags of your training scenario but got shy :(

but i immediately thought of Gojo!! And like he's not surprised you flipped him over due to you're strength, he has no doubts about how strong you are but it's the fact that he trusts you so much he unconsciously turned off his infinity for you <3 so now he's like !!!!!! because what!!!! but also you're on top of him and you look so pretty so now he's short circuiting double the amount!!!!

Like !!!!!!!! my brain is going crazy thinking about it - 🍓

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. neither strong, nor weak - just in love.

about. combat training with gojo makes him realise just how strong you really are. inspired by this silly post i made yesterday, it wasn’t meant to become a whole thing but it did and now it’s…sad. im sorry. also pls don’t be shy ily :(

warnings. minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. sfw, angst, mutual pining, slightly unrequited romance, mentions of violence (they’re combat training), death mention, canon!verse, gn!reader.

you’re pissed.

over the years satoru’s seen a colourful array of emotions splayed against your features. he’s seen joy, laughter, happiness — all of which are his favourites. he wishes he could have seen them more. but also sadness, anguish and a pain so deep he felt like he was dying right alongside you.

he’s died once before, nearly, but it never could have compared to the feeling he got when you looked at him with pure hatred. because gojo had been the one to hurt you, then.

you’ve never been one to hold grudges, you’re too good of a person for the world to hold anyone in such a negative light for way too long — but when you do experience these emotions, you feel them all too much and all too hard and everyone can see it too. maybe that’s why gojo picks up on your spike of anger so easily during training today, it could be the sick reason behind how much he’s enjoying you being pissed off too.

because you wear your heart on your sleeve and your emotions on your face, so gojo knows exactly how he makes you feel — all of the time. “c’mon sweetheart, don’t lose focus. don’t you wanna beat me?” he taunts you, a cocky smile stretched over his lips as he dodges each of your blows, though the shades over his eyes hide the admiration he has for you.

“fuck you.” you spit back harshly, as if the words scald your tongue. shifting your weight onto your back foot, you take a chance and swing your leg up high, just narrowly missing the silvery mop of satoru’s hair where his infinity goes up to protect him.

for gojo, it’s easy for things to lose their meaning, slipping away from him like fine grains of sand through his fingers. at times when he should, he finds himself without a care — it’s easier to walk through life not giving a shit than to tie emotions to actions, people and places. if the strongest cares too much then people have to die. that’s why the wielder of the six eyes holds you to such high regards. you’re strong because you’re able to care — no matter what’s in your path or who might stand in your way, and what they might make you feel, you are able to be strong for those in need.

you feel what satoru can’t.

“i’ve been waiting all day for that, honey.” he quips back, lifting his shades just a little to bare the full brunt of your aura through his technique. “c’mon, let’s put in a little more effort, shall we? if i were a curse, you’d be dead by now.”

everything gojo sees is magnified by one hundred, he could detect the smallest of changes no matter how close or far he was from you — and being able to witness frustration build up in your core along with stacks of your cursed energy elicits a pleasant reaction out of him. his head flops to the side, almost bored, despite how the corner of his lips quirk up into a lopsided grin. satoru loves how you’re just teeming with anger, from the top of your head right down to your toes — spreading into your fingertips as your cursed energy balls powerfully around your fist.

and even though he catches it between his larger hands, the thin invisible veil of his infinity quite literally stopping you from killing gojo — he can still feel that you’re pouring your all into this, into him. even though you’re tired and dripping with sweat while your muscles burn so hot you fear they might melt away, you’re still trying. you still won’t give up. you’re still stronger than he ever could be.

and he’s practically a god.

“you would be the dead one if you didn’t have the cheat code to life.” rolling your shoulders, you step back with a menacing snarl and start again — fists flying in the direction of the six eyes as you’re fuelled by the passion of taking him down. making him hurt. people like gojo piss you off, their existence serving as a reminder that your life is not promised and every step you take is a sacrifice to help them live on. though deep down, you know that you don’t hate him for it. it’s nothing that he could have helped.

once again, satoru snags your fist before it can even leave a mark on him and draws you in by his infinity. for a moment, you’re scared that he might use it to repel you, harm you — he catches the flicker of fear in your eyes before you steel your nerves and keep on fighting even as he grabs at your wrists, sweeps your feet out from underneath you and pins you to the hard ground below.

leaning over your frame as you squirm beneath him, gojo tuts down at you in faux disappointment. “so sad, and here i was, thinking that you were strong enough to beat me.” he says, cruelly. “give up already, princess.”

in response, you bare your fangs and dig your nails into his wrists — not letting up. “i’ll give up when you’ve killed me.”

that makes satoru falter.

it’s only training, really, it shouldn’t even be that serious. but his mind can’t shake the idea of one day sacrificing you for the good of others. for everyone satoru gojo has ever cared about, there has been a day where he has to choose between letting them meet their end and protecting the jujutsu world. that’s the way it’s always been and always will be. it’s not that he thinks you’re weak, that you can’t handle yourself — you’ve proven yourself capable of that time and time again. you’re strong, physically and resilient in your emotions, mentally but you’re only human.

and humans don’t last as long as gods do.

seizing the opportunity at hand, you squeeze your thighs around satoru’s slender waist to switch your situation and rip your wrists free from his steady iron grip. so now, your positions are reversed, and he’s the one with his arms above his head — exposing all of his vulnerable vital organs. he could have easily kept himself in control and have you squirming below him for hours, but he lets you. he trusts you enough to let you prove yourself to him — just so he can have that moment, that lets you know that the great satoru gojo is not immune to the likes of you.

he is weak for you.

his infinity slips away unconsciously just as his back his the the floor with a dull thud — wisps of his snow white hair flying about the place with the motion. satoru lays still beneath you, unmoving like a tree rooted to its spot, and peers up at you through the thickness of his lashes. he watches how you try to control your surprise and how shocked you are at yourself for pinning him down — truth being told that if he didn’t have infinity to hide behind, if he was human, you probably would have been able to from the start.

“think again,” you breathe, the dip in your voice doing nothing to help satoru’s crazed mind and how insane he is for you. “princess.”

you’re so pretty like this. your eyes are frenzied and and astonished, your chest heaves with every breath you take in desperation to fill your lungs with air and your skin shines with light perspiration from your training. and even then, to satoru, you’re the most precious form of life he’s ever seen. a rarity amongst unpolished gems. every emotion you have right now is laid bare against your features, coursing through your veins and it’s because of him.

it’s nice like this, to feel weak in the knees and in the heart for someone. to be able to feel your pulse rather than see it as nothing but a flicker of a blue flame with blue eyes.

he wants to touch you, subconsciously reaching out to brush a thumb over your cheek. “you’re so beautiful.” satoru whispers, his voice low and uneven — causing goosebumps to rise over the expanse of your skin and a soft gasp to lay wet on your lips.

exasperated tears begin to well up in your eyes, sitting pretty in your lower lash line. you’re so angry at gojo and how you think he sees you but you don’t dare to push his hand away, instead turning your head to look elsewhere. you don’t want him to see you cry.

“turn your infinity back on. i could kill you.”

“you’re beautiful,” satoru repeats adamantly, not caring if he sounds like a broken record. “you’re strong. stronger than me.” you’re pissed at him too , for looking down at you. for all the things he’s said that hurt you without meaning to. your grip on his wrists loosen along with your hold on your emotions. “i wish i could be weak enough to love you.”

“i said turn it back on, gojo.”

“look at me, please.”

“gojo.”

“please.”

your shoulders sag with a shaky exhale, all of the fight you had leaving you as you sit on top of him — looking down at him. “what?” comes your quiet mumble, not daring to flinch away as his thumb traces over your bottom lip without the gentle hum of his infinity.

“i love you.”

if you were at any other point in time, satoru’s words would have had you melting over him like butter in a pan. you would have been weak enough to say it back and let him overwhelm you with longing. because if this were any other point in time, you would have needed satoru gojo like you needed air to breathe. like you needed him to live.

but things are different now, there’s a concrete wall built around your heart to fortify it and you’ve grown to become immune to him. like gojo says, you are strong and while you know that you always have been — hearing him admit that makes you realise you don’t want to prove your worth to him anymore.

you would much rather have him kill you instead.

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david-goldrock · 1 month

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Here are the original lyrics for October rain (hurricane) that were changed due to Eurovision's cowardince

The changed lines will be marked in italic red

[Verse 1]

Those that write history / Writer of my symphony

Stand with me / Play with me

Look into my eyes and see

People go away but never say goodbye

[Verse 2]

Someone stole the moon tonight

Took my light

Everything is black and white

Who's the fool who told you, "Boys don't cry"?

[Pre-Chorus]

Hours and hours and flowers / Hours and hours empowers

Life is no game for the cowards / Life is no game but its ours

Why does time go wild / While time goes wild

Every day I'm losing my mind

Holding on in this mysterious ride

[Chorus]

Dancing in the storm

We got nothing to hide / I got nothing to hide

Take me home

And leave the world behind

And I promise you that never again / Baby promise me you'll hold me again

I'm still wet from this October rain / I'm still broken from this hurricane

October rain / This hurricane

[Verse 3]

Living in a fantasy

Ecstasy

Everything's meant to be

We shall pass but love will never die

[Pre-Chorus]

Hours and hours and flowers / Hours and hours empowers

Life is no game for the cowards / Life is no game but its ours

Why does time go wild / While time goes wild

Every day I'm loosing my mind

Holding on in this mysterious ride

[Chorus]

Dancing in the storm

We got nothing to hide / I've got nothing to hide

Take me home

And leave the world behind

And I promise you that never again / Baby promise me you'll hold me again

I'm still wet from this October rain / I'm still broken from this hurrican

October rain / This hurricane

[Outro]

לא נשאר אוויר לנשום / לא צריך מילים גדולות

אין מקום / רק תפילות

אין אותי מיום ליום / אפילו אם קשה לראות

כולם ילדים טובים אחד אחד / תמיד אתה משאיר לי אור אחד קטן

(translation for the last verse)

[Outro]

No more air to breath remains / There is no need for big words

There's no place / Only prayers

There is no me from day to day / Even if its hard to see

All of them good children, every single one / You always leave me one small light

#ישראל #ישראלבלר #ישראלים #טמבלר ישראלי #טאמבלר ישראלי #ישראבלר #עם ישראל חי #israel #israeli #i stand with israel #eurovision #europe

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 5 months

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Pt 0 good omens i make predictions for season 3 after watching three episodes of S1

[WARNING THESE PROPHECIES ARE BY THE GOOD OMENS MASCOT AND KNOWN MESSENGER OF APOLLO AND SO CLEARLY 100% LEGIT STAY IF YOU DARE *OMINOUS TREMBLING*]

First, because I am a messenger of Apollo, I am compelled to write cryptic verse before I explain it to you, so take what the Voice of Delphi speaks to me:

When the anticipated arrives

An embrace is born, the love shall thrive

The angel will repay his demon's kiss

A bird will sing, a child will be missed

Heaven recedes like an evening tide

Led with pen by a wordsmith-guide

The home on earth more holy than above

Pain will strike, the panacea is love.

Now, because we are not in ancient Greece and I am not as cruel as you, I will explain as best as I can. You wanted to know if we will find salvation in season 3. Like Edgar Allan Poe, you asked me, is there, is there balm in Gilead (season 3)? Unlike the raven I will not say nevermore, but here:

We all know Crowley and Aziraphale will get together, but I'd advise you that the smell of angst is in the air. I say this as both prophet and writer, but for the story to end happily and still keep us suckers glued, it will drag Aziraphale and Crowley through the dirt to get there. You will get the happy ending, but at an emotional price that even season 2 did not prepare you for.

The fucking apocalypse plotline is going sneak in again, I smell it like ice on mountain air and fungus in a moist cave. Mostly the fungus metaphor.

Aziraphale will kiss Crowley first in this season. It is only fair.

There will be a hug. An Aziraphale-Crowley hug. Who hugs whom? Delphi has not spoken to me of that in detail, but a wee little nightingale told me it is a possibility they will both fall into the hug and we will know they needed it like they needed breathing and it wasn't planned but it was inevitable. The whole fandom can then sleep again.

I expect at least two more ineffable husbands breakups. But you guys survived season 2 (I haven't yet. If I die, can someone reblog this with 'he told us so!' when season 3 finally comes out?) so I have faith in you, war veterans.

Crowley will know, finally, that he is more than forgiven. He is loved. Aziraphale will know, finally, that the real heaven was the home he found with Crowley. Heaven and god will retreat. It's okay, guys, it'll take time but it will happen.

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prettymindset111 · 1 year

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at your command by neville goddard highlights

the awareness of being is the door through which the manifestations of life pass into the world of form.

This is the truth that makes man free, for man is always self-im- prisoned or self-freed.

If you are dissatisfied with your present expression of life the only way to change it, is to take your attention away from that which seems so real to you and rise in consciousness to that which you desire to be. You cannot serve two masters, therefore to take your attention from one state of consciousness and place it upon another is to die to one and life to the other.

The second, as we are told in the story of Mary, is to “Magnify the Lord.” We have identified the Lord as your awareness of being. Therefore, to 'magnify the Lord' is to revalue or expand one's present conception of one's self to the point where this revaluation becomes natural. When this naturalness is attained you give birth by becoming that which you areone with in consciousness. The story of creation is given us in digest form in the first chapter of John. “In the beginning was the word.” Now, this very second, is the 'beginning' spoken of. It is the beginning of an urge – a desire. 'The word' is the de- sire swimming around in your consciousness – seeking embodiment. The urge of itself has no reality, for, “I AM” or the awareness of being is the only reality. Things live only as long as I am aware of being them; so to realize one's desire, the second line of this first verse of John must be ap- plied. That is, “And the word was with God.” The word, or desire, must be fixed or united with consciousness to give it reality. The awareness be- comes aware of being the thing desired, thereby nailing itself upon the form or conception – and giving life unto its conception – or resurrecting that which was heretofore a dead or unfulfilled desire. “Two shall agree as touching anything and it shall be established on earth.”

You are ever sent into expres- sion by your awareness and your expression is ever that which you are aware of being.

To do this you take your attention away from all that is now your problem or limitation and dwell upon just being. That is; you say silently but feelingly to yourself, “I AM.” Do not condition this 'awareness' as yet. Just declare yourself to be, and continue to do so, until you are lost in the feeling of just being – faceless and form- less. When this expansion of consciousness is attained, then, within this formless deep of yourself give form to the new conception by FEELING yourself to be THAT which you desire to be.

The only way to change your expressions of life is to change your con- sciousness. For consciousness is the reality that eternally solidifies itselfin the things round about you. Man's world in its every detail is his con- sciousness out-pictured. You can no more change your environment, or world, by destroying things than you can your reflection by destroying the mirror. Your environment, and all within it, reflects that which you are in consciousness. As long as you continue to be that in consciousness so long will you continue to out-picture it in your world.

you can only be to others what you are first to yourself.

but as your true self, a faceless, formless awareness, and free yourself from your self- imprisoned prison.

That is why it is constantly recorded that Jesus left the world of manifes- tation and ascended unto his father. Jesus, as you and I, found all tings impossible to Jesus, as man. But having discovered his father to be the state of consciousness of the thing desired, he but left behind him the “Jesus consciousness” and rose in consciousness to that state desired and stood upon it until he became one with it. As he made himself one with that, he became that in expression.

Just as a branch has no life except it be rooted in the vine, so likewise things have no life except you be conscious of them. Just as a branch withers and dies if the sap of the vine ceases to flow towards it, so do things in your world pass away if you take your attention from them, be- cause your attention is as the sap of life that keeps alive and sustainsthe things of your world. To dissolve a problem that now seems so real to you all that you do is re- move your attention from it. In spite of it seeming reality, turn from it in consciousness.

Become indifferent and begin to feel yourself to be that which would be the solution of the problem.

For instance; if you were imprisoned, no man would have to tell you that you should desire freedom. Freedom, or rather the desire of freedom would be automatic. So why look behind the four walls of your prison bars? Take your attention from being imprisoned and begin to feel your- self to be free. FEEL it to the point where it is natural – the very second you do so, those prison bars will dissolve. Apply this same principle toany problem.

I have seen people who were in debt up to their ears apply this principle and in the twinkling of an eye debts that were mountainous were re- moved. I have seen those whom doctors had given up as incurable take their attention away from their problem of disease and being to feel themselves to be well in spite of the evidence of their senses to the con-trary. In no time at all this so-called “incurable disease” vanished and left no scar.

“I am” is he that will save you. If you are hungry, your savior is food. If you are poor, your savior is riches. If you are imprisoned, your savior is freedom. If you are diseased, it will not be a man called Jesus who will save you, but health will become your savior. Therefore, claim “I am health,” in other words, claim yourself to be the thing desired. Claim it in consciousness – not in words – and consciousness will reward you with your claim. You are told, “You shall find me when you FEEL after me.” Well, FEEL after that quality in consciousness until you FEEL yourself to be it. When you lose yourself in the feeling of being it, the quality will em- body itself in your world.

“For I am not a God afar off. I am nearer than your hands and feet – nearer than your very breathing.” I am your awareness of being. I am that in which all that I shall ever be aware of being shall begin andend. “For before the world was I AM; and when the world shall cease to be, I AM; before Abraham was, I AM.” This I AM is your awareness.

“Except the Lord build the house they labor in vain that build it.” 'The Lord,' being your consciousness, except that which you seek is first estab- lished in your consciousness, you will labor in vain to find it. All things must being and end in consciousness.

Put not your trust in men for men but reflect the being that you are, and can only bring to you or do unto you that which you have first done unto yourself.

Man has always blamed others for that which he is and will continue todo so until he finds himself as the cause of all. “I AM” comes not to destroy but to fulfill. “I AM,” the awareness within you, destroys bother but ever fills full the molds or conceptions one has of one's self.

Life does not care whether you call yourself rich or poor; strong or weak. It will eternally reward you with that which you claim as true of yourself .

Such acceptance of your desire is like dropping seed – fertile seed – into prepared soil. For when you can drop the thing desired in consciousness, confident that it shall appear, you have done all that is expected of you. But, to be worried or concerned about the HOW of your desire maturing is to hold these fertile seeds in a mental grasp, and, therefore, never to have dropped them in the soil of confidence.

If you would catch that which is beyond your present capacity you must launch out into deeper waters, for, within your present consciousness such fish or desires cannot swim. To launch out into deeper waters, you leave behind you all that is now your present problem, or limitation, by taking your ATTENTION AWAY from it.

Another story is told us; of the widow and the three drops of oil. The prophet asked the widow, “What have ye in your house?” And shereplied, “Three drops of oil.” He then said to her, “Go borrow vessels. Close the door after ye have returned into your house and begin to pour.” And she poured from three drops of oil into all the borrowed vessels, filling them to capacity with oil remaining.

You, the reader, are this widow. You have not a husband to impregnate you or make you fruitful, for a 'widow' is a barren state. Your awareness is now the Lord – or the prophet that has become your husband. Follow the example of the widow, who instead of recognizing an emptiness or noth- ingness, recognized the something – three drops of oil.

Then the command to her, “Go within and close the door,” that is shut the door of the senses that tell you of the empty measures, the debts, the problems.

Recognition is the power that conjures in the world. Every state that you have ever recognized, you have embodied. That which you are recogniz- ing as true of yourself today is that which you are experiencing. So be as the widow and recognize joy, no matter how little the beginnings of recog- nition, and you will be generously rewarded – for the world is a magnified mirror, magnifying everything that you are conscious of being.

“I AM the Lord the God, which has brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage; thou shalt have not her gods before me.” What a glorious revelation, your awareness now revealed as the Lord thy God! Come, awake from your dream of being imprisoned. Realize thatthe earth is yours, “and the fullness thereof; the world, and all that dwells therein.”

You have become so enmeshed in the belief that you are man that you have forgotten the glorious being that you are. Now with your memory re- stored DECREE the unseen to appear and it SHALL appear, for all things are compelled to respond to the Voice of God, Your Awareness of Being – the world is AT YOUR COMMAND!

#law of assumption #neville goddard

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i-cannot-spell-chaos · 1 year

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Webs and Masks

(I don't own image)

(Yandere spider verse platonic and romantic x Villain! Spider man reader!)

(Sorry it took so long! warning cursing!Sorry if it's bad!)

A comic was slapped on the table the cover showing You a spider man jumping away from a crime scene. SO let explain shall we? You had been Spider man for a year and a half. Getting bit by a radioactive spider on the ankle when rescuing a scientist who sadly passed due to radiation from an experiment called InSpid mutation where they would mutate spiders but the spiders got loose. You did die legally speaking having to claw your way out of your grave is not recommended. *You look at Uncle Ben spider man 'how the fuck'* So you decided since you were dead technically you would run the under streets of New York. You expected a hero however he never came your fate had changed. You found out through the discovery of the multi verse and time lines. The spider who was supposed to create your rival had been brought to another universe. Due to this your canon event didn't happen meaning you weren't a true spider man just a villain who is spider man?

SO to sum it up you were bit by a radioactive clone spider became villain spider man and is working on creating a way to go into different universes.

Other than that you like visiting your neighbor every Sunday for game night. This family was the Morales family your universe is the only universe you're alive in all the other universes you go missing or you're found dead by spider man. You hoped this peace will stay for as long as it can.

Until a portal opens in your lab or a spot? A man with a plain white face and a spot in the middle popped his head out looking around. Thoughts run in your head but the main one is how the hell is he doing that. The man looked at you before asking "Hey do you want to fuck up this Spider guy's introduction? He's kinda attacking my rival Miles Morales and I need someone to be in the inside" You look at him wide eyes grabbing his face. "He's attacking my buddy? I'm gonna crush that man with my thighs" You jumped through the portal getting sent to this spider verse HQ

"So it hasn't happened yet but Miles Morales will show up in two months sorry" The portal closes behind you.

You look around realizing how fucked you are in this situation. He sent you a month ahead?! You got caught in an hour after glitching and was brought to Miguel o Hara. After finding who you were and why you were there you were given a day watch to stop the glitching. Miguel was curious about you and your time line theory.

You spent hours explaining it and showing it through spider webs. The Spider can choose different webs Some Spiders don't even have webs but the things that make them all alike is what defines them. Every Spider man has choices that change in different universes that is their time line however if it changed the time line collapse on itself. Sometimes these webs are built and can change however if they are already prone to change. For example you can say anything to a person in pompeii before the volcanic explosion but that doesn't damage the time line since it was coming to an end.

Miguel loved this theory since it went with his until you went on with time loops and got stuck in a loop for an hour.

However the reason why you came creeped onto him before he knew it. You became friends with the children of the Spider verse MayDay,Hobie,Paviter, and Gwen. Spotting you multiple times from a window seeing you jump across buildings just to make sure they weren't injured when they came back. Wolf spider he figured due to your attachments to younger spider people. The other got quite attached to you being there. Since Miguel wouldn't allow you to leave for an odd reason.

The day it finally happened before you knew it. Miles Morales came to HQ after fighting the spot. He seemed to recognize you from his universe hugging you. At first you returned it until he didn't let go.

Miles had known the reason why you disapeared in his universe seeing it for him self. You were close to him like another dad before you went missing. Seeing you alive squeezed his heart his reaction was holding onto you.

You had to get help from Peter B and Gwen to get him off.

"Going to introduce yourself, kid?" you asked the boy patting his shoulder. "I'm Miles Morales Spider man in my universe" Miles smiled showing his teeth. "I'm Doctor (your name) the evil version of spider man in my universe bit of advice pretty sure Miguel has Rabies don't let him bite you and being spider is not all of the swing shift your weight when you jump to where you want to swing the jump matters." You smile showing off your fangs. Miles looked shocked at your fangs you really were different here.

Jess called the two of you over saying Miguel wanted to see us. Hobie groaned before you dragged him along happily. Walking in pocketing the final things for your watch. Miguel kept you here only with a day pass so you started making your own.

You plopped into a seat ignoring what was about to happen. Miles spoke to Miguel while you were finishing your watch. Everything was in place when suddenly Miguel threw a desk down at Miles scaring you. Quickly grabbing Miles away from it. You looked up at Miguel worried "The hell man! You can't just hit a kid!" You yelled at him "He's an anomly!" Miguel yelled at you glaring down at Miles.

Seeing you were backing down he looked at Miles "Let me explain...follow me" He led them to a room filled with holograms. "This is the spider verse in every universe there is cannon" Miguel went on with his lecture when he brought out cannon events. "These things happen in every universe this is what makes spider man" there was a pause a thing you dreaded with Miguel in the two months you had known him. Those pauses is when something bad will happen "That included when a chief is close to spider man they die every single time" Some thought ran through your head....you didn't know any police chief's Mile's dad never got through the police acedemy so he was a security guard in your universe..So are you really spider man you have spider man dna but are you truelly spider man haha butt oh speaking of butts why is miguel cheeked up on a tuesday afternoon? Where did he get all that ass?

Your thoughts were cut off when Miguel mentioned your name. "Huh" "(Your name)...Run!" Peter b yelled at you. Looking for the danger you saw an approaching Miguel and a running Miles. You booked it sliding easily through the halls knowing the place for weeks. Miles was right behind before jumping on your back. You stumbled in shock before continuing to run. "Don't listen to them (Your name) come back" Miguel called for you.

Now you don't know true fear unless you had been chased by Miguel. Mother fuckers growling behind you clawing at walls going through them. There was a crowd in front of you so you did the first thing that came to your head. "Evacuate the building Miguel o Hara from universe 2099 have is chasing after me and I was listening!" People usually only hear the first part so they move quickly. You passed through quickly holding Miles close before jumping. Looking down you saw Miguel's claw almost catching you. He desperate look for you brought actual fear in your bones. "Miles why is he after me" You asked Miles landing on a random building "Miguel was saying stuff about canon events when he said me saving my dad would cause my universe to collapse and the reason why your universe had no other spider man was because you were supposed to be in his!" Miles yelled catching his breath.

"I knew something was up with him but i got a plan for us. I think I finished the watch I might be able to bring you home I just need to scan you" You pressed a few button before scanning him showing his universe. Opening the portal you saw Miguel claw his was up the building. The portal was unstable but it was fully open you threw Miles through. You turn around to see Miguel right behind you breathing down your neck. "Miguel...hey bud" you say nervously backing away from him. "You weren't planning on leaving right?" Miguel asked you his hand grabbing your coat sleeve. "Close the portal Mi Vida I can take you home now" Miguel said leaning down to your neck. After spending some time with this man you knew something was up but this was to far. "Miguel let go.."You asked him breathing quickly anxiety almost pouring through your ears as you heart pounded in your chest. "Are you scared of me" Miguel asked taking off his mask showing you his face. "We all want you back. What about those spider kids will you really leave them? Your soft to soft for your own good Mi vida" Miguel whispered in your ear.

Instinct was the last thing that came out of your body. Kicking your legs using Miguel as a boost sending yourself through the portal behind you ripped you jacket with his claw. Miguel landed on his ass looking at you launching himself at the portal luckily it closed before he could get through.

You looked around seeing you were on a tall building's roof. In front of you was a wall spray painted memorial of two people on it. You and Miles's dad. "Well damn-" you were knocked out quickly.

You woke up on a couch blinking seeing yourself in a familiar place. Looking up you saw Miles tyed up to a bean bag talking to another...Miles? Oh were in the wrong universe!

"Miles!" You yelled out both boys looking at you. Miles 42 gasping seeing you awake going over to you quickly. "Careful Uncle (your name) we just didn't want you running off like before...it's really mean yelling at your family because they wanted to keep you safe and when you went missing and was pronounced dead we knew it was fake! I knew you wouldn't be killed that easily! You were just sleeping!"

...."Huh" was the only thing you could get out before passing out again.

(part 2 coming up next sorry!)

#male reader #yandere #yandere male #platonic yandere #platonic spider #yandere spiderverse #yandere spiderman #spider gwen

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princess-ibri · 8 months

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Darkside Disney Princesses: Tiana

Guys, I'm so sorry I meant to write out a whole thing for Tiana too cuz I love her (heck yeah, Lousiana gals) but Real Life threw another wrench my way and atm I'm too tired to do writing, so this also might be the last Darkside Disney Princess :(

But my basic idea was that instead of Charlotte taking her aside when she trips at the party after hearing she doesn't get the restaurant after all, Charlotte is distracted by the faux Prince Naveeen and so Dr. Facilier, seeing a desperate soul and never one to pass up an opportunity for a deal, swoops in, takes Tiana aside and starts laying out his whole sales pitch.

And Tiana is angry and tired and feeling humilated enough to make a deal. Hard work hasn't seemed to get her anything but emptiness and disappointed in the end, maybe it is ok for her to use an easy out. Just once.

She doesn't outright wish for the other buyer to die of course, she doesn't want that. She just wants them to be unable to outbide her on the property.

But voodoo dolls are just so convenient for the good doctor.

And so then, of course, she's in his pocket. The guilt over inadvertently causing a man's death and then benefiting from it, is ripe stuff for blackmail, plus once you make one deal, it's so easy to make another amd another whenever things start to look prickly. Plenty of people in Louisiana arn't happy about a black woman running a major business, and are willing to cause trouble in all sorts of ways.

And having some untraceable trouble come back their way is just so much faster--and satisfying--then trying to fight back clean.

Of course its not all bumping off bigots and bad critics. The good doctor knows so many well connected clients who'd be willing to help the restaurant out in less magical but equally prosperous ways--in exchange for some favors here and there, some permanent table seats shall we say? Use of a backroom or account book here or there.

After a while, it just becomes more expident to have the good doctor on the premises, a permanent background fixture at the increasingly high-end restaurant, with its increasingly shady bunch of wealthysharing his skills with so many of Tiana's willing patrons.

Between his front there and his puppet prince Laurence splashing his now orphaned wife's cash towards him whenever he needs, Dr Facilier's doing more than alright for himself. At this rate, with all the souls he's collecting, he'll be paying off his debts in no time. What Lousiana (and Tiana herself) looks like with all this voodoo and increased shady dealings...well, thankfully, that's just the Darkside verse's problem...

#disney #my art #darkside disney princesses #darkside disney princess #dark Tiana #princess tiana #patf #princess and the frog #(oh and Naveen is captured again and stuck in a jar somewhere :s )#dr facilier #disney villains #spooky season #halloween #darkside disney

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a-big-apple · 5 months

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Gideon, Harrow, and "Wedding Vows"

i frequently see the interpretation that this:

"The land that shall receive thee dying, in the same will I die: and there will I be buried. The Lord do so and so to me, and add more also, if aught but death part me and thee," said Gideon. (GtN 438)

plus this:

"If I forget you, let my right hand be forgotten," her mouth was saying. "Add more also, if aught but death part me and thee." And, unsteadily: "Griddle." (HtN 360)

plus this:

It didn't even matter when Kiriona said, "Sure, Cam. Marry a moron, then die. I get the urge." (NtN 372)

equals Gideon and Harrow are married! crying face emoji!

i'm not disparaging that interpretation, i think it's valid and has some basis in the text, and even if it wasn't/didn't, i think fans should have all the fun they want. but for me, it doesn't fully capture the complexity of what Gideon and Harrow are to each other, and i want to explore a slightly less straightforward reading.

Catholic weddings, vows, and Ruth under the cut ;)

Gideon and Ninth House traditions

let's start with Gideon quoting Ruth. i've seen folks repeating the idea that this is a wedding vow. it's more accurate to say that this is a verse often used as a wedding vow, in other denominations of Christianity, and secularly as well. but in a (traditional) Catholic wedding, the couple can't write or choose their own vows--the Celebration of Matrimony has specific text, with one or two variations, that is always used.

now, we haven't seen a Ninth House marriage ceremony. if we do see such a thing in AtN and discover that Ruth 1:17 is part of that tradition, i will cry a million happy queer tears about it. but i think it's somewhat likely that Gideon has never even seen a Ninth House wedding, given how small and trending elderly the population is, and that we know no couples in her lifetime have had kids other than the Reverend Parents.

what i'm getting at here is that this quotation from Ruth doesn't seem, to me, to represent something that's religiously or traditionally binding in Ninth House culture. it uses some similar language to Catholic marriage vows, "until death do us part" etc, but i don't think these are words that make them married in the eyes of the Ninth or the Houses at large, i think these are words Gideon has chosen as a specific expression of her devotion. and where does she get them from, if not some Ninth House ceremony or scripture?

well, this is a slightly longer stretch, but at the point in the story when Gideon says this, she's already dead. Harrow has begun to absorb her--and thanks to "The Unwanted Guest," we know that souls are porous, permeable, and rub off on each other when they're in contact. Gideon's soul is at this moment being integrated into Harrow's; Harrow has certainly read all kinds of books on the Ninth ranging from usual to totally heretical, some of them probably extremely old, and it's not unreasonable to think writings from before the Resurrection might have been copied and recopied into something Harrow could access. And speaking of soul permeability, Harrow's had Alecto's soul clinging onto hers for seven years, and Alecto's soul is in intimate contact with John's soul--there are so many ways for this bit of scripture to make its way into Gideon's non-corporeal mouth. the STI (Soulfully Transmitted Infection) of biblical knowledge.

Ruth in context

now let's talk a little about Ruth, the book of the Bible and also the character of the Bible, and Naomi, who she is swearing her devotion to. tl;dr, Naomi and her husband and two grown sons are Israelites who immigrate to Moab, a "pagan" nation, to escape famine. Naomi's two sons marry Moabite women; then the sons both die, as does Naomi's husband. Naomi, having lost everything, decides to return home where she'll be penniless and have a bad life but at least she'll be among her people; she tells her two daughters-in-law to go back to their families. One of them goes.

The other, Ruth, refuses, and swears beautiful devotion to Naomi, as we've heard Gideon quote: "She answered: Be not against me, to desire that I should leave thee and depart: for whithersoever thou shalt go, I will go: and where thou shalt dwell, I also will dwell. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. The land that shall receive thee dying, in the same will I die: and there will I be buried. The Lord do so and so to me, and add more also, if aught but death part me and thee."

in a biblical context, this has nothing to do with a wedding vow. Ruth is promising to leave the comfort of her own people, religion, and homeland to stay with her mother-in-law Naomi, even though the connection they had (Naomi's son, Ruth's husband) is gone, and all they have to look forward to is a terrible life of grief and bitterness. this is frequently interpreted as a parallel to Jesus, who (in the religious perspective) made the sacrifice of leaving his place with God and becoming human out of devotion to humanity, in order to live and suffer and redeem us. woof, this is giving me flashbacks to CCD.

of course, many Christians resist interpreting what passes between Ruth and Naomi as resembling a wedding vow for homophobic reasons too--making it about Jesus is a way to make it less queer--but i think the point still stands that this is a more complicated, and less marriage-related, expression of love than it seems taken on its own.

Harrow's lamentation

when Harrow later echoes it back, she conflates it with a different biblical quotation: "On the willows in the midst thereof we hung up our instruments. For there they that led us into captivity required of us the words of songs. And they that carried us away, said: Sing ye to us a hymn of the songs of Sion. How shall we sing the song of the Lord in a strange land? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand be forgotten. Let my tongue cleave to my jaws, if I do not remember thee: If I make not Jerusalem the beginning of my joy."

it's a lament, an expression of mourning, a longing for home from someone who has been forcibly removed from it. when combined with the Ruth quotation, in which Ruth is giving up her home in her devotion, this really reads to me as both Harrow's grief, immediate and overpowering, and a realization that Gideon is her home, and failing to acknowledge that is as disabling as the loss of a hand or of the power of speech. Gideon is the beginning of her joy, and Harrow is, in this moment, putting Gideon above the Ninth House in her devotion. above Alecto. above everything.

and again, i'm not saying all of that can't be about marriage, but it's about a relationship much more complicated than marriage can encompass in the context House cultural norms.

Kiriona Gaia, saddest girl

this brings me to Kiriona, and "marry a moron, then die." consider the context of this, and the tone. Kiriona's deeply, deeply hurt. the saddest girl in the universe. she died for Harrow, avowed her devotion to Harrow, and then (from her perspective) was rejected; buried; excised from Harrow's brain and then from her body. Kiriona, as she did when she was Gideon, covers her emotions with humor and sarcasm. i suspect she's even less able to handle being vulnerable as Kiriona than she ever was before. she's making light of Canaan House and what happened there, and it's only in sarcastically downplaying what she's been through that she recounts her relationship to Harrow as a marriage--something she has almost no positive examples of, something that is in her experience frequently political and joyless. also notably, she frames it as a marriage that occurred before she died.

Their actual vow

what Gideon (and Kiriona) really wants--she tells us over and over again--is to be a true cavalier.

and what does Gideon's ghost repeat right before she devastates us with Ruth 1:17?

"One flesh, one end," said Gideon, and it was a murmur now, on the very edge of hearing. Harrow said, "Don't leave me." (GtN 438)

it's taken me a dozen paragraphs just to propose that this is their vow. "One flesh, one end" are the actual words that need to be spoken, in Gideon and Harrow's cultural context, to bring them into an official union with each other; a union that is arguably more fundamental in the Houses, and certainly more complicated, than a marriage. a union Gideon specifically wants, and has seen in action.

in the pool, they vow to each other as cavalier and necromancer. in the moments before Gideon's death, she forgives Harrow again, and exposes her heart: "'You know I only care about you,' she said in a brokenhearted rush" (GtN 430). then she repeats their oath again, acknowledges the pain she's about to cause for Harrow, and rededicates herself to the Ninth--a place she never really belonged, Harrow's home and people more than her own, as Ruth dedicated herself to Naomi's home and people. Gideon "married" her moron in the pool, and now she dies to fulfill that vow.

and as we saw above, after Gideon's death, she reminds Harrow again of their union--of its importance, of how she's fulfilling what she has interpreted to be her whole purpose as a cavalier--and it's in response to Harrow's "don't leave me" that Gideon offers a final reassurance of her devotion. in her mind, this sacrifice is its ultimate expression, the most inextricable and undeniable union two people can achieve.

Gideon believes she'll be part of Harrow forever.

#the locked tomb #the locked tomb meta #i stayed up way too late last night writing this

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katakaluptastrophy · 4 months

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@greatandquestionablecontent noted that my discussion of Paul and St Paul didn't touch on the latter's awful views on women and sexuality.

And while I very much hope those aren't relevant for our new Lyctor-ish buddy Paul, they very much do haunt the narrative of The Locked Tomb.

We get one in-world bit of theology in Gideon the Ninth: the Sermon on Necromancers and Cavaliers, which talks about how the Houses understand the relationship between necromancer and cavalier and god. And it's pretty much St Paul's Letter to the Ephesians, ctrl + F'd for necromancy, with a few other infamous Pauline verses thrown in for good measure, especially from 1 Corinthians:

A necromancer who must leave her House and fight requires a swordswoman./For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife, and they shall be two in one flesh. - Ephesians 5:31

Our necromantic characteristics make us more like the Emperor...the necromancer and the cavalier are no different./[A man] is the image and glory of God; but the woman is the glory of the man. - 1 Cor 11:7

As [the Emperor] was once man, and became God...so were we dead and became alive./And as in Adam all die, so also in Christ all shall be made alive. - 1 Cor 15:22

Their love is the love that fears only for the other: the love of service on both sides. Some have tried to characterise this relationship as the cavalier’s obedience to the necromancer, but the necromancer must be in turn obedient to the needs of the cavalier without being asked or prompted: theirs is arguably the heavier burden./Loving one another with the charity of brotherhood, with honour preventing [anticipating] one another. - Romans 12:10 (I suspect this one is also meant to call to mind Ephesians 5's instructions for wives to submit to their husbands, while husbands are asked to love their wives like Christ loves the church - an instruction proponents of so-called Biblical gender roles will often describe in language similar to the Sermon as being the bigger ask.)

The love of the cavalier for the necromancer, and the necromancer for the cavalier...cannot be libidinous./But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity...because these are improper for God’s holy people. - Ephesians 5:3

So cavaliership very much reproduces the gendered asymmetries of power found in many traditional Pauline-flavoured interpretations of Christian marriage.

But when you look at some of the invective around a romantic or sexual necromancer/cavalier relationship, it's coded rather more as homophobia.

The Sermon on Necromancers and Cavaliers hedges around explicitly condemning necro/cav relationships as specifically against the will of god, but makes it clear that's very much a view held within the Houses:

"after a myriad of thought about the matter, marrying your cavalier remains taboo at best. There have been those who have argued eloquently that it is traitorous to the ideals of the Necrolord Prime."

While St Paul isn't the only source of egregiously homophobic Bible verses, he's responsible for a good chunk of them, and the idea of this specifically defying the designs of God is a recurring theme...

It's worth noting that not all of what's generally described as St Paul's writing likely actually is. And Ephesians, which features so strongly here, is one of those "pseudo-Pauline" letters - a sort of Pauline fanfiction written to fill in perceived gaps or deal with issues as they arose.

But it feels oddly appropriate that the Houses' theology of gender cavaliership, itself an imitation of St Paul, is so strongly inspired by an imitation of St Paul...

#the locked tomb #tlt meta #tlt paul

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ivystoryweaver · 1 year

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Decadent chapter 2

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Summary: Your first week on the job with Miguel

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara from the film Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse x female reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings/notables: AU story. 18+, cursing, smut, p in v, masturbation, handjob, it gets messy, workplace nonsense, use protection people! a brief moment of throat squeezing. not beta'd we die like everyones uncle ben... mentions of blood. a mention of violence and death

PREVIOUSLY on Decadent...

Squeezing his eyes shut, he shook those thoughts from his head. It was next-level annoying to have super powers at his disposal but still feel like shit half the time.

Blood was the key.

But in sustaining his body, he felt he was losing his soul.

He smelled you coming off the elevator.

New blood.

Fuck, he was hungry. He should have just fed last night. Then he wouldn't be distracted by--

"Miguel, your new assistant is here," LYLA chimed.

Miguel nodded to the hologram figure of his artificially intelligent assistant. "Thank you, Lyla. Send her in."

"I hope you're not attempting to replace me," Lyla voiced. "My capabilities are--"

"Yes, yes, I know," Miguel huffed. "She's not here for that. She's working on her doctorate and needs some practical--"

"Experience. Yes, I'm aware."

"Do not interrupt me," Miguel chided. "Just...send her in."

Miguel was a man who had no trouble getting a date. He didn't hire you for your looks. But damn if you didn't take his breath away as you scurried into his office, dressed to kill.

"Mr. O'Hara," you cheerily intoned, smoothing your sleek suit before extending your hand. "What an honor to meet you in person."

"Pleasure," he smoothly returned, taking your smaller hand in his while minding the retraction of his talons. "I've been anxious to meet you. We have a lot of work to do."

He shouldn't have touched you. Miguel rarely touched anyone unless he needed something specific from them. The blood temptation was too intense, and between talons and fangs and super strength - well it was better to just not bother.

Outside of the bedroom, he was sure he hadn't even hugged or held anyone since his daughter died... Better that way.

So the soft skin of your hand, so confidently extended - the gentle squeeze of your fingers as you smiled up at him beautifully - it made him jerk his hand away abruptly.

His eyes, which you noticed were dark red? in person, roved freely down your figure as if sizing you up, rather than checking you out. As his gaze returned to yours, you wondered how he managed red irises. They had looked light brown on your video call.

"You have excellent taste, but I’m afraid you’re overdressed," he voiced, turning his back to you as if he were busy with 100 other things. "I think you'll find that the work we do lends itself to a lab coat and goggles. I’ll see that you get some."

"Of course, sir," you swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. So much for a first impression. You would just have to impress him with your mind instead.

Hearing you call him sir sent a jolt of desire through his body.

You were a little caught off guard by the pierce of his crimson gaze as he turned back to you - and by the massive span of his broad shoulders. He was far more handsome in person, but you quickly reminded yourself that you were here for his brilliant mind.

"Let’s take a look then, shall we?"

Your first day in the lab completely blew you away. Miguel's intelligence somehow exceeded his good looks, and the two of you fell into an easy rhythm. He admitted to you that he had hired you because of your specific theories on genetic coding an gene splicing.

"I've read all your papers," he admitted, "and studied your coursework, all the way back to high school."

You were floored. You might as well have been an aspiring songwriter hearing that their favorite artist wanted to record their song and sing it as a duet.

What Miguel didn't tell you was that he was looking for someone specific. Someone with your intelligence and specialties, but someone...pure. Someone uncorrupted by mega corporations, or too much success or money. Someone young and eager, whose ideas on genetics lined up with his own. He needed someone to eventually help him get rid of his affliction.

He didn't want to drink blood anymore. He didn't want to be Spider-Man anymore. After all his dark deeds, after losing his little girl - he only wanted to see if he could ever be human again.

Unfortunately...or perhaps fortunately, the mutual attraction between the two of you filled the air with questions for him. He could see the effect he had on you, and he was pretty certain that resisting the softness of your smile, the angles of your face - the curve of your body ... it would be a losing battle for him.

He wanted you.

The two of you didn't last a week.

Longing gazes lingered, hands "accidentally" brushed. Complimenting one another's intelligence finally led to remarks that really weren't quite suited to the workplace.

You weren't an idiot. Suspecting Miguel had likely slept his way through his entire staff, you assumed that giving in to this burning in the center of your chest (and between your legs) would make you a name on a very long list. But you were a modern woman. You could fulfill your desires without it reflecting on the quality of your work. Hopefully Miguel would feel the same.

The tension while working together became unbearable and you really started to believe that relieving that tension would actually help your progress in the lab.

The thing you loved most about being around Miguel was that, inside the lab, he was all business. A reputation for being demanding and condescending aside, he really did treat you like an equal. He listened, he challenged you and he did not flirt or make anything personal. In the lab, there was only the science. You felt free to express your ideas without feeling inferior or objectified.

In his office, however, his desires were quite clear - a little more each day.

"You look stunning today." Your third day.

"Come take a look at this, will you?" Your fourth day. He beckoned you around his desk, prompting you to lean over to peer at the screen he'd been studying. Your side pressed against his thickly muscled arm. Your face was close enough to brush up against his cheek. What you wouldn't give to climb across his lap and sink your fingers into his dark waves.

"I thought I told you not to dress up." Your fifth day. You wore a skirt and explained to him that you could still dress professionally under your lab coat. You liked to dress nicely and, honestly, you wondered how he would react. His scarlet stare fixed itself on your legs the entire day.

"You're so beautiful I can't think straight." Your sixth day. Miguel had thought that he would get your gorgeous legs off his mind by draining a criminal over the weekend. Today he was well fed, but it did nothing to lessen his desire to have you. If you planned to tell him to fuck off, or otherwise reject his advances, he'd rather know sooner rather than later. The tension was killing him.

"How do you think I feel?" You fired back cheekily. "I have a thing for shoulders. And dark hair. And jaw lines."

"I have a thing for legs," he darkly responded, easing out of his office chair and stalking toward you. "Can't stop thinking about how yours would feel wrapped around me."

"Can't stop thinking about how you would feel between mine," you shot back as he rushed forward, scooping you up to do just what he said. Your back hit the wall with a thud as he pulled your shapely legs around his waist, pressing himself against you.

"Best not to tease me like that, hermosa," he growled, pinning you in place with his hips while pushing up your skirt, his thick fingers caressing your thighs.

Hooking your heels into the round shape of his ass, you rolled your hips against him. "I don't tease when I want something this bad."

"Fuck," he gasped out, your delicious body writhing in his arms - your beautiful eyes just begging him to take you. "Better be sure, baby." Even as he asked for permission, he helped you hop down just long enough to yank down your lace panties while you pulled open his pants.

Shoving things out of the way and pulling him free, you let out a little whine at his sheer size. Grasping his hand, you guided his fingers to your center, rubbing your wetness over his knuckles.

"I'm sure," you panted.

"Careful," he chided, swiftly pulling his fingers away. He hadn't exactly explained his retractable talons to you. They wouldn't hurt you as long as he concentrated on keeping them down. But as you stood there, flushed and panting, soaking wet, he wondered if he would be able to keep his concentration in tact.

Frowning, you peered up into his ruby eyes. Didn't he want this?

"Come here," he breathed, lifting you right back up to where you started, but this time, as he pulled your gorgeous legs around his waist, he used one hand to guide his hard length between your wet folds - rubbing himself up and down, just feeling you. Shuddering at how hot and wet you felt on his tip, he somehow managed to control himself just a little longer.

Pushing the tip of his cock over your clit, he felt your wetness mingle with his. He grinned wolfishly as you hissed in pleasure.

"M-Miguel, god, please," you moaned, the sound of it sending desire thundering through his body. Lining his cock up with your center, he pushed inside, all the way in, and stopped.

Your body was suspended there against his office wall, held in place by his hands gripping your thighs and his thick cock shoved up inside you. But he didn't fucking move.

Your hands gripped his muscular arms, attempting to pull yourself forward, or use gravity's advantage to plunge you down - something to feel some friction.

"Wh-what are you--"

"Look at me," he darkly ordered, squeezing your hips to almost a painful point.

You complied, but he still didn't move - his scarlet stare burning you alive as his thick, dark hair tumbled across his forehead carelessly.

"This is how I feel between your legs," he gruffly teased, reminding you of your flirtatious words from several moments ago. "Tell me what it feels like."

God, you felt like an insect caught in a spider's web. If you only knew how apropos that analogy was.

Pressing one strong hand to your lower abdomen, he pushed down firmly. "Tell me," he growled, his playful disposition dissipating.

"Just like I imagined," you panted. "Thick. Hot."

He groaned.

"I feel so full of you, Miguel." You squeezed your inner thighs against his torso, using that leverage to manage a small thrust.

How he was able to hold his shit together was beyond you. He hadn't even fucked up into you yet and you were about to come, mostly clothed, against the wall.

Pushing the hand on your abdomen up over your breast, he squeezed, then moved all the way up to your throat. He didn't apply pressure, but just the thought of it made you moan again.

"Love the sounds you make, hermosa. I'll make it good for you," he darkly whispered, giving your throat the faintest squeeze. "But I'm so bad for you."

Letting out an embarrassing whine, your head thumped back against the wall. He was driving you insane.

"What do you want?" you pleaded, digging your heels into his ass impatiently. "You want me to beg?"

"I just want you to understand," he purred against your cheek, his hot breath making you shiver with want. "I want you to be sure."

No. You weren't going to beg. Not today.

"Then let me down off this wall and I'll show you I understand." You stared right into his glowing eyes, locking your arms behind his neck. If you had to push him down and ride him hard, you would. But you had to have him now.

Apparently, he agreed.

Easing both hands back down to your thighs, he began to fuck you...slowly. You found his sudden switch so tender that you were sure he would kiss you...but he didn't. Instead, he breathed hotly on your ear.

"Wanted this...you...from the first second you walked in that door."

The rate of his deep thrusts quickened slightly - the power of his solid body and thick cock easily bucking you like a doll.

"Gonna try not to hurt you. Want to fuck you so hard," he panted, every jolt of his hips, juust a little deeper, faster.

"Please." Now you were begging. You didn't care. "I want you to. I need you to."

You thought, then, that he would start mercilessly pounding into you, but he didn't. Pulling away from your ear, he gazed down into your eyes, loving the way your lips fell apart as you gasped for air. If only he could kiss you. But his fangs were not retractable and he could really hurt you. No, kissing was something he never, ever did.

Kissing was for lovers and no one could love him. Not the real him - the spider. The monster.

So he buried his face in your neck, pumping just a little faster.

Mistake. Fuck, your blood smelled good. He jerked away quickly, deciding it was better to stare down at you and watch you fall apart, rather than tempt himself with his mouth on your throat.

He was right about working you up slowly, going a little faster and harder with each thrust. He was pretty sure you would be expecting him to hammer you into the wall, but he wasn't a college freshman. He knew how to make your beautiful body fall apart.

The two of you had worked up a delicious pace, bouncing together against the wall, the sound of slapping skin and harsh pants music to his ears.

Just a little more speed, and a slight tweak of his hips to see if he could just find the perfect spot...

"Yes, yes, Miguel, right there. Right there," you gasped, gripping his solid biceps once more as you started to bounce wildly.

"Knew you would look so pretty like this," he growled, pushing the palm of his hand down over your mound. The force of his length inside you combined with the heel of his hand roughly rubbing just where you wanted pressure made you shriek in pleasure.

"Don't stop," you begged, heat flaring up your torso and over your neck, punching gasps and whines from your throat. Buzzing, searing, thrilling pleasure twisted through your body, until a wave of rapture pulled you under like a rip current. Pleasure surged through every part of you, from your fingertips down to your curling toes.

Miguel had expected to work you up and watch you come before he finished, but he wildly underestimated how your tight cunt would feel gripping him as you came. He gushed inside you before he could even think to pull out, groaning at the wet mess the two of you made together.

Pulling out of you suddenly, he turned away and stuffed himself back into his pants, leaving you there - skirt bunched around your hips and the heat of him slipping down your inner thighs.

"Shouldn't have done that," he voiced aloud, reaching down to grab your panties as some sort of weak offering. "We have to be more careful."

You thought he meant the sex. Or perhaps the noise you both made.

But he knew he shouldn't have done that. Not without you knowing the risks of who - what - he really was. His...genetic material was not something to mess around with.

Grabbing your panties out of his hand, you shoved your skirt down, feeling a little foolish. You knew this would just be a bit of fun for him - a quick fuck with new assistant - but you didn't expect to be scolded the moment he finished inside you.

Whatever. At least if felt good.

Seeing he had made you uncomfortable, Miguel reached for your arm. "You can clean up in my private bathroom," he said softly, nodding toward a small door you'd yet to go inside.

Rolling your eyes, you did just that, feeling humiliated. Oh well. You had really put yourself in this position.

As soon as you shut the bathroom door, Miguel sighed, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. He had hoped that giving in to the sexual tension between you would make things easier. It was inevitably going to happen at one point or another anyway. He thought maybe he could just douse the spark you two shared.

Being inside you was gasoline on a flame.

You exited the bathroom a few minutes later, your irritation thinly cloaked under the sheen of professionalism. Without even looking at him, you rattled off a few questions about a hypothesis you'd been thinking through.

If Miguel wanted to be all business, then you would oblige.

You amazed him - how easily you could switch modes from vigorous sex to brilliant hypothesizing. It was just as enticing as your gorgeous legs or beautiful mouth.

He couldn't concentrate - it was the first time you had been all business and he had been distracted. Well, did he want to work or did he want to play? Maybe the two of you should head to the lab to get some real work done.

"What are you staring at, Miguel?" you impatiently huffed.

"You," he quickly and openly answered.

"Why? I thought we 'shouldn't have done this'," you quoted him.

Then he understood.

"Wait, no. Come here," he beckoned you over to his desk, where he was seated.

You hesitantly complied. "What?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized, peering up at you. Reaching for your hand, he pulled you to stand between his legs. "I wanted to do...what we did. I never want to stop doing it," he confessed. "I just...I should have talked to you before I...finished like that."

Ohhh. That's what he meant. Well, fair point.

"You're right," you agreed, raking your fingers through his dark hair. "I guess we got a little carried away."

He rested his forehead on your stomach, pulling you close. "I didn't mean to, I...you felt so good. So fucking good." Pulling back, he gazed up at you hungrily. "You have no idea the things I want to do to you. The things I could do." His strong hands had wandered from your hips around to trace the curve of your ass.

"Even now, I want to...already...again."

Without asking, he roughly turned you around, using his hands to push your skirt up your thighs - again - while pulling you down on his lap. With your back to his chest, he spread your thighs wide, slowly starting to thrust his hardening length against your ass.

"Miguel," you whispered, completely ready to be putty in his hands. So much for getting work done.

He growled in frustration, but you took it as desire. The two things he wanted to do right now were difficult for him - he wanted to kiss your neck and finger you until you came. He needed to show you how good he could make you feel, but he couldn't. Not like that.

If his mouth went anywhere near your neck, especially while he was hard, he wasn't sure he could continue keeping his fangs from piercing your soft skin. Or his talons safely retracted. He was used to the things he couldn't, or shouldn't do to a woman, but you made him want to do exactly those things. Even the thought of laying you across his desk and eating you out was too dangerous - not until you knew more about the creature he was.

Obviously, he found ways around these things from time to time, but there was no way he was going to risk hurting you. If he somehow scared you away...well that was just not an acceptable option. Not professionally, and now he was starting to think he didn't want to lose you on a personal level either.

"I want you to touch yourself," he finally whispered on your ear, "while you bounce on my cock."

All you wanted to do was turn around and kiss him hard and then give him what he demanded. You wanted to ride him until he came inside you again.

But he held you in place.

"Show me," he purred, pulling your panties aside, deviously using one talon to slice them free of your body.

You moaned, thinking he had ripped them.

Rubbing your ass against his erection, you slid two fingers between your folds, making a show of masturbating for him. "I'll show you, Miguel. I'll show you what I do in bed at night when I think of you fucking me."

"Oh fuck," he growled, pushing you over on the desk long enough to shove his pants back down. Reaching for your hips, he gripped you firmly, pushing you down on his cock.

Letting out one of the little whines he already loved to hear so much, you did not do the slow and steady game he had played with you up against the wall.

Obediently, you rubbed firm circles over your clit and started to bounce.

Gasping, Miguel had to restrain himself from shredding the rest of your clothes with his talons. Instead, he worked open the buttons of your blouse and pulled it off your arms before unclasping your bra. Your breasts sprang free, bouncing freely as you worked yourself over his cock, there in his lap. Your fingers returned to your clit, pleasuring yourself.

"Look at you, using me like this," he panted. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, he watched your little show. Sliding his hands up your soft stomach, he fondled your tits, rolling your nipples carefully between his fingers. "Take what you want, baby."

Putting on a show for him made you fucking feral. Gripping the edge of his desk with one hand, you leaned slightly forward, vigorously riding him, and furiously rubbing yourself. It only took you a few more seconds to come on his cock, panting and moaning his name.

Miguel dug his talons into his thigh to keep from joining you - determined to feel you tight and wet around him. He let you finish and felt you go limp in his arms - biting his lip as he stilled his hard length inside you.

Remembering what he had just explained to you, you eased off his cock, shifting over to his bare thigh. He groaned as your wet pussy and slick thighs soaked his leg.

"Let me take care of you," you panted, sliding one arm behind you, up into his dark curls, while the other hand eased over to his hardened shaft. Teasing the tip with your thumb, you felt his breath on your cheek. He hissed when you moved your hand down to his balls, toying with them with your fingertips.

A string of Spanish curses fell on your ear as you dragged your hand up and down, twisting your wrist and rolling your thumb over his tip deliciously.

"Talk to me, Miguel," you softly ordered, halting your motions. You needed some feedback.

"Fuck, don't - don't stop," he husked, his hand joining yours to jerk him off. It took him a little bit longer than the first time, but as his warmth coated your hand, running down your wrist, you realized that working with Miguel could end up being a lot of fun.

@deputy-videogamer

next->

#miguel o'hara #decadent fic #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x f!reader #spiderman: across the spiderverse #spider-man: across the spider-verse #sm: atsv #sm: atsv fic #au spiderverse #tw blood #miguel o'hara smut #spiderverse

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sylenth-l · 27 days

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Did someone order a horrendously down bad poem from Felwinter's pov? No? Yes you did :))) I think you may need to sit down for this one

(also I am currently reading The Tale of Genji, which has many a beautiful love poem in it—and I couldn't resist adding a line from my favourite in here <3)

the softened edge

Snow drives down and settles, soft

On the sharp mountain stone

But remember, when sent on a knife-wind

these jaunty, fluttering flakes

may cut you to the bone.

One ought to see:

how these melting flurries die

how they wax and wane

how they will return to the sea

and the bitter winter sky.

I'll now put aside my pen, love.

Ah, how boundless, how clear is the air

that surrounds us at the top of the world?

All that drifts through it are whisps of cloud and birds.

I put aside my pen to share, and make sense of,

Your burning boundlessness of mind

The clearness of your eye,

Because I cannot capture you in rhythmic verse alone.

Your soul abounds. It spreads its wings and soars.

Each feather of that bird must be but a multitude of thoughts in your clever head

Each cry from that beak a mere whisper from your eternal mouth

And those whisps of vapour, surely, that must be me.

I cannot put aside my pen until I have you written in the stars, love.

I sit, I watch you,

Holding my book for cover,

And you do not notice, engrossed in your mind as you are.

I keep my pen in my hand, distraction,

twilight glinting off its metal nib through the window

And you hold your own, filled with twilight ink,

your fingers stained with it,

your own book smudged with it.

I hold my book as cover for my brazen eyes

and yet I see you there, reclining:

The fullness of your shoulders, the slope of your back,

you lay in the bed, the thinker, perfect.

The heart-stained sheets around your waist.

The orange pillow behind you, sagging slowly.

All I can see is the burnished sun setting beyond the snow-capped peaks.

There is not enough oxygen up here for me.

I cannot set aside my pen until the star charts show your form in constellation, but I am running out of ink.

I used it all to paint the fathomless depths of your eyes.

And while I was distracted you came close

and tried to warn of danger

But, perhaps, I think you are the true danger:

your hands are near.

Your fingers sink into fur

do you think it is snow?

Or do you somehow seek warmth?

You are so rash. You are the sun-bird.

I have little warmth to give, yet you persist,

and you are more dangerous than a snow bridge.

You are here, and proud of it, and I cannot set aside my pen.

We have spoken much. Recited ancient history,

performed ancient literature.

I should not know poetry.

And yet, I see a verse, and I am struck, when you are gone—

how I wish to see the little boat she of Ise rows

as you fly beyond the mountains without me.

I cannot bear not knowing when I shall see you again.

But back you paddle,

radiant, rising,

and I should not know poetry.

But you have given me a pen.

But, I suppose

the most human thing of all

is the attempt to write the knowledge

of seeing another's soul.

Aaaaaahh you actually did it!!! Yes, it was my order and I... indeed need to sit down... or better lay down actually...

Thank you so much for sharing, that's beautiful! 😭💙 Maybe there's something wrong with me, but to me it doesn't sound down or sad, quite heartfelt, wholesome and full of love actually?? (says the person found curled on the floor in the pool of tears)

#ask #destiny #poetry #felwinter #osiris #i guess it's safe to tag as #felris #also i'm very sorry for taking so long to post this ask!!#i've been totally braindead recently #i still am but a little less already!#“i have little warmth to give yet you persist” stuck in my head somehow #very on point #like in the general scale of their relationship i think #felwinter isn't sure what is it osiris wants from him so desperately #and if he even has that to give #and asking doesn't help because osiris himself isn't sure what he wants either #everything but more???#poor fellas struggling with their 0.5 emotional intellect stat

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annymation · 5 months

Text

🎶Wish Away- the villains song

Magnifico and Amaya's villain duet for my Wish rewrite

So... I was in a silly goofy mood, searching for inspiration to make the Magnifico and Amaya's villain duet for my rewrite.

And what do you know, I came across a deleted song from EQUESTRIA GIRLS 3, YEAH, EQUESTRIA GIRLS, and that inspired me the most... Like, I found exactly what I was looking for, and adapted the song to fit my vision.

The song that inspired me was "Free the Magic (Demo)" and it has the exact kind of tempo and style I think are fitting for two manipulative monarchs, very sophisticated and classy but also hiding a lot of malice.

I may or may not change the lyrics as time goes on, but so far here's what I got:

So first things first, here’s the deleted Equestria Girls song that inspired me. Give it a listen first or while you read the lyrics so you can get a feel for the rhythm and feel of the song. Although in my version the very last verse would play differently, sounding a lot more intense.

youtube

If this was a Disney song tho it would obviously have more instruments than just a piano, which could really elevate it, I imagine there could be different kinds of instruments depending on who's singing.

Also, so you can better picture the scenery. Magnifico and Amaya are trying to convince Asha to give away her wish instead of just working hard to get it by herself.

They take her to that room we saw during “This Is The Thanks I Get” in the movie, with the miniature model of the kingdom and the lil dolls.

The dolls will serve as the backup singers, as Magnifico uses his magic to give them life.

The rooms is mostly dark, and the king and queen start out very gentle with Asha but their demeanor becomes more aggressive as the song progresses.

Lyrics in green- King Magnifico 🫧

Lyrics in blue- Queen Amaya 👑

Lyrics in bold white- little puppets from Magnifico’s model 🎎

Lyrics in purple- Asha ✨

Wish Away

You've been an outcast in this land

For far too long

It's time you show to them

That Rosa's where you belong

There's a wish in you

That just cannot wait to soar

So tell us, Asha

What do you wish for?

THINK!

But before you answer

Look around and just see where you're from

From a kingdom with no sadness, no pain nor dismay

And it's all because they

Wished away

(aah-ah, aah-ah, aah-ah)

MAY!

I give a suggestion?

What you lack might be just

Some self reflection

You don't know who you are

So how could you ever go as far

To know what's your purpose in life?

(aah-ah, aah-ah, aah-ah)

Strife and hard work is fine, dear

But it's oh, so much easier

If you give me that wish of yours

Think just how far you'll go

Once that wish is mine-

I mean ours! I mean yours

hehehe

And what about your future?

Will it be just some doodles, my dear?

There's much more you can achieve (thanks to me)

So forget with no-

Forget with no regret

I don't know what I want, I've never knew

Too many pains to count, so much I've been through

But I know a wish will be for me to grant

So thanks for offering, but, I need no enchant

Little one, I don't think you comprehend

(Your wish will be the king’s command)

With my magic I can make all that pain

end

(You can be one of us)

If you let us help you

Just wait and see

(You should be pleased)

I have a hunch this wish

Shall set you free

(free, free, free)

Is this really the hill I'll die on?

(Wish a-way, wish a-way)

There's no hope for you

No stars to wish upon

(Wish a-way, wish a-way)

Should I give up on my integrity?

(Give it all away, You cannot get away)

I'm the ONLY ONE

Who'll end your MISERY

SO COME ON! WISH AWAY!

SO YOU MAY FIND YOUR WAY-

OKAY!

… Okay?

… okay … I have a wish …

Thank You For Reading!

#disney wish #wish #wish 2023 #wish asha #wish disney #wish movie #wish rewrite #king magnifico #queen amaya #song rewrite #demo song #equestria girls #wish reimagined #I scare myself with the lengths that my hyper fixations go sometimes

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wintersbitterfly · 11 months

Text

cool with you | sana & tzuyu

genre: ???

pairing: sana x tzuyu x reader (platonic)

setting: highschool au

content warnings: mentions of game ritual, blood, death

song: newjeans’ ‘cool with you’

“are you sure we should be doing this, sana?” tzuyu asks with nervousness in her tone.

“yeah…this seems a bit extreme.” you say a bit on edge as sana walks you and the younger girl up to the school rooftop.

sana rolls her eyes with the click of her tongue as she opens the door to the school rooftop where it’s empty.

perfect, sana thought.

“you both are such scaredy cats. it’ll be fine. besides, it’s just a silly game.”

once you make it onto the school rooftop, sana shuts the door and walks you and tzuyu to the edge of the rooftop.

“alright. let’s get to going with the game shall we?” sana asks with a smile.

you only sigh while tzuyu follows behind you.

sana takes your arm in her grip, looking at you expectantly.

your eyes go wide, “you want me to…stand on the edge?”

“it makes the game work. trust me. if you act it out like it’s real, it’ll work.” sana reassures with her trustworthy smile that seemed to completely fool you.

you shrug climbing onto the edge of the rooftop and sana does as well, standing behind you.

“what’s this game even supposed to do anyways?” you ask.

“it’s supposed to tell you how you’re going to die. whatever color you see indicates it.” sana explains and tzuyu gasps softly.

“that doesn’t sound very nice.”

“well it’s a ritual, sweets. of course it’s not.” sana sighs.

letting out a shaky breath sana chuckles before she looks at tzuyu.

tzuyu looks back at sana with worried eyes.

“keep lookout, tzu. we’re not even supposed to be up here anyways.”

the youngest only nods and looks around.

sana tells you to close your eyes and you do.

“ready?” she asks.

you nod, “yeah.”

and she begins to chant.

“concentrate. concentrate. concentrate on what i’m saying. people are dying. children are crying. concentrate. concentrate. concentrate on what i’m saying.” she says while pounding lightly on your back.

she then taps you on the top of your head, then gently running her hands down the sides of your head.

“crack an egg on your head. let the yolk run down. let the yolk run down. crack an egg on your head. let the yolk run down. let the yolk run down.”

sana then repeats the very first verse she chanted, all with a seemingly innocent face all the while tzuyu watched while also making sure no one came up onto the rooftop.

the oldest then took her hands, and twisted her hands onto your shoulders, then slowly ran then down your arms.

“squeeze an orange on your shoulder. let the juice drip down. let the juice drip down. squeeze an orange on your shoulder. let the juice drip down. let the juice drip down.” she chants.

she repeats the very first verse as she lets a small smirk creep onto her lips as she looks over the edge then back at you.

“maybe we should stop this sana…” tzuyu says softly.

she simply ignores tzuyu.

sana’s smirk only widens as she pokes you in both your sides with all ten of her fingers, then running them down your sides.

“stick ten needles in your sides. let the blood drip down. let the blood drip down. stick ten needles in your sides. let the blood drip down. let the blood drip down.”

it seemed as if the breeze picked up as sana chanted these words, making you shiver a little, as well as tzuyu.

but sana remains unfazed as she repeats the first verse another time.

“stab a knife in your back. let the blood drip down. let the blood drip down. stab a knife in your back. let the blood drip down. let the blood drip down.” sana lightly taps you on your back with her fists, then runs them slowly down your back with darkened eyes.

she repeats the first verse, “concentrate on what i’m saying.” in a dark voice she said.

you couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable with how sana was. maybe it was just part of the game to make it feel real, as she would say.

sana then pretends she’s wrapping a rope around your neck, and her smirk disappears into a frown, and she pulls it around your neck as if she’s going to strangle you as she says:

“wrap a rope around your neck. wrap it till it’s tight. wrap a rope around your neck. and… PULL!”

tzuyu gasps softly a little a bit startled but she remembers, “it’s just a game, just a game.” she whispers to herself.

sana then smirks again as she holds you by your arms with both her hands. she felt you tense in her arms.

“you’re standing on a building…you’re out on the ledge,” she whispers in your ear with a sinister smile, and you felt scared now.

“you’re feeling very dizzy, and you’re close to the edge,”

“s-sana i think we should stop now.” tzuyu says.

“and someone…pushes you…” sana finishes as those last words leave her lips which makes you open your eyes.

…..

“s-sana?” you stutter out.

then suddenly…you’re pushed off of the edge of the rooftop which makes tzuyu scream your name, and you screaming for your life.

tzuyu runs over to the edge if when she saw your body splatter all over the concrete below.

she looks at sana who only looked down below with a numb expression.

“sana! what did you do?!” tzuyu screams with tears in her eyes all the while sana smirks as she looks down at your lifeless body as citizens scream from down below.

#darlinggtwice #twice imagines #twice sana #twice tzuyu #minatozaki sana #chou tzuyu #twice x reader #sana x reader #tzuyu x reader

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