#and also blood for the blood gods of course | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

faetima · 2 days

Text

𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐦. .

. . these seven years would be pretty dumb.

// tws ; slight cursing, blood ; gn reader ; modern au, hanahaki au

a/n: bubble gum by clairo :3

all you could think about was him.

your classmate with light and airy strands of porcelain white hair, akin to the color of an elegant swan’s feathers, all tied together daintily with a single thin vermilion red ribbon.

your classmate with those piercing honey speckled eyes which could see right through you, as if you were translucent.

your classmate who was always dozing off, whatever the reason may be.

your classmate who always managed to appear ethereal somehow, even after just sleeping.

your classmate, jing yuan.

you doubted he ever noticed you. he was always either dozing off quietly or caught up in chatting with fu xuan.

oh, you realized he was doing the latter right now.

fu xuan — more commonly known around the school as diviner fu — gazed up at jing yuan with her amber eyes, a serious shimmer in them. her lilac pink hair was divided into two neatly made ponytails, secured by four golden ji hairpins. they glinted in the bright, blaring fluorescence of the lights in the classroom.

jing yuan leaned down and she murmured something in his ear.

he returned to his usual standing position, now also wearing the same serious expression fu xuan was.

jing yuan glanced around the room, ochre eyes flitting.

you stared at him, curious.

his eyes landed on you, narrowing.

surprised, you panicked.

oh god. looking down would make it obvious i was staring at him. i could keep looking at his direction and pretend that i was looking at soemthing else? but what if he thinks i was looking at him? what the fuck do i do? oh, wait, he looked away.

never mind, he’s coming towards me.

oh fuck he’s coming towards me.

oh fuck. ohfuck. ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck-

"hey," jing yuan said, voice deep and a bit rough. he smiled slightly at you, immediately sending off a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

"oh. uhm, hi," you greeted, your voice light and airy, nervousness bubbling up. you had been a shy person all your life, and your crush randomly coming up and talking with you did not help in easing your nervousness.

jing yuan glanced back at fu xuan, who shook her head furiously at him, signaling something to jing yuan you were unaware of. he rolled his eyes, but decided to comply with her.

"sorry for, uhm, bothering you. i was just wondering if you had the notes we were supposed to copy down today? i kind of fell asleep, and fu xuan doesn’t have them, so i was wondering if you did," he mumbled, an excuse for why he came over to you.

"oh, uh, yeah, i have them," you said, rummaging in your backpack to find your notes. pulling them out, you handed them over to jing yuan.

"thanks," he smiled, "i’ll return them to you tomorrow if that’s okay?"

you nodded.

he nodded.

then he walked away.

you probably should’ve tried talking to him a bit more. maybe make small talk. oh, god, but what if he started thinking you were interested in him if you did that? that you were trying too hard?

yeah , you convinced yourself, mustering up an excuse for your own cowardice. maybe it was better you hadn’t.

you had gotten back home from school. setting your backpack aside, you immediately made a beeline for your room.

as soon as you shut and locked the door, you began hacking up fuchsia and créme colored bleeding hearts was how you spent most of your time now.

every night after dinner, or the few bites of food you ate that you thought as dinner now, you'd go to bed with your dove-white sheets pulled up to your neck and with burgundy blood and toxic red bleeding hearts pooled around you.

every morning, you’d wake up wondering if today would be the day he'd finally notice you, if he'd finally know you existed. of course, you knew it was just wishful thinking, but you still craved for him to notice you, to talk to you for more than ten seconds.

and thinking about him lead to wheezing up even more bleeding hearts. all stained vermillion with blood and slick with mucus.

it was the the same cycle over and over again. rinse and repeat.

how you yearned for it to end. but you knew the cycle — and your hanahaki — could only end in one way at this point — death.

you had discovered that you had hanahaki a little too late. now you couldn’t do the surgery without the abnormally big chance of dying.

if you were to die either way, what was the point of doing the surgery then?

your hanahaki had gotten worse over the last few weeks.

now you coughed up whole bleeding hearts, coated and stained so much in your blood to the point where the original color of the flowers was unrecognizable.

now you wheezed the damned flowers whenever you fucking laid your damn eyes on him . now you avoided looking up from your seat even more than you used to.

now you hacked up the fucking flowers to the point where you would fucking blackout.

now you wanted to die. wanted to be put out of your damn misery.

you wished you could talk to him, but every time you began to walk up to him, you overthought everything and backed out like the coward you were.

it was like you were trapped in some sort of time loop from a horror movie — only instead of running away from something terrifying, this was more of a endless cycle of you wanting to talk to him but never doing so, one that you didn't quite know how to escape.

maybe, just maybe you should try and talk to him.

maybe tomorrow.

#jing yuan x reader #♡ -- jing yuan #jing yuan #jing yuan x you #hanahaki #hanahaki au #modern #modern au #angst #hanahaki disease #light angst #high school #shy reader #tw slight blood #how to angst #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai #what to tag pls

52 notes · View notes

himejoshikomaeda · 1 day

Text

LES FOISFOIS FAVORITE SONG FROM EACH TOUHOU SOUNDTRACK

th01 highly responsive to prayers: gotta be eternal shrine maiden. angel’s legend is good, but eternal shrine maiden just has what the PC-98’s soundboard did best. little beeps and boops that somehow sound so chock-full of emotion. fantastic stuff.

th02 story of eastern wonderland: love-colored magic is, of course, legendary, but my favorite for this game is complete darkness. absolutely masterfully work with that melody.

th03 phantasmagoria of dim.dream: obligatory respects to strawberry crisis to make sure i don’t get mauled for saying this, but reincarnation is my personal favorite off this soundtrack. there isn’t really a place to note this, but the SC-8850 version of reincarnation is fucking phenomenal, too.

th04 lotus land story: blah blah blah bad apple okay no but seriously it’s maiden’s capriccio. that’s reimu’s theme. i don’t care about this mystic oriental love consultation shit, this spring path crap. maiden’s capriccio. the imperishable night version fucks hard too.

th05 mystic square: this one is really hard. romantic children rules. plastic mind is unreal. the grimoire of alice fucks. but the best one in my opinion is alice in wonderland. extra stage themes tend to be really good, but i looooooove this one.

th06 embodiment of scarlet devil: locked girl ~ the girl’s sealed room. again being a contrarian here and not picking UN owen was her. cuz. i dunno. i like it.. be nice to me.. side note, but i love how the instruments in eosd and dolls in pseudo paradise sound.. idk, out of tune? it’s nice.

th07 perfect cherry blossom: there are a lot of really good ones here but i’d be lying if i said it wasn’t necrofantasia, contrarian though i may usually be.

th08 imperishable night: i don’t knowwww this one’s too hard they’re all so good.. illusionary night ~ ghostly eyes, nostalgic blood of the east ~ old world, flight of the bamboo cutter ~ lunatic princess, and extend ash ~ person of hourai all come to mind, but honestly i think i have to give it to love-colored master spark. i know it’s not “from” this game but it’s my favorite on the soundtrack, sooooo.. whatever. my list.

th09 phantasmagoria of flower view: wind god girl. “that’s from shoot the bullet” i knowwww shut upppp i’m not doing side games.

th10 mountain of faith: faith is for the transient people, full stop. the gensokyo the gods loved is practically the “touhou theme” to me, but sanae’s theme is like. in my top 3 favorite songs in the series. those guitars kick ass. this game’s soundtrack is phenomenal.

th11 subterranean animism: green-eyed jealousy. followed closely by satori maiden ~ 3rd eye. literally every song on this game’s soundtrack is a banger. a real no-skip album. but i am fucking addicted to parsee’s theme. it’s like bitter, ugly crying as music. i can’t sing its praises enough.

th12 undefined fantastic object: this game sucks ass but the music’s good. emotional skyscraper ~ cosmic mind is the best song.

th13 ten desires: it’s shoutoku legend ~ true administrator, but i wanna give a shout-out to night sakura of dead spirits anyway, because it’s great.

th14 double dealing character: kobito of the shining needle ~ little princess. but i mean. i am kissing reverse ideology on the mouth with tongue. i love you seija i love you shimmy you’ll get ‘em next time

th15 legacy of lunatic kingdom: honestly? unforgettable, the nostalgic greenery. i love the spacey sound of this soundtrack, and none of them capture that sound better than that. the lake reflects the cleansed moonlight is good for the same reason. i have a lot of love for the sea that reflects one’s home planet, too.

th16 hidden star in four seasons: not huge on this soundtrack, but my favorite song is swim in a cherry blossom-colored sea.

th17 wily beast and weakest creature: electric heritage. what a tasty piano in this one. the gorgeous melody is also present in entrust this world to idols ~ idolatrize world, but i like the piano in electric heritage better. idolatrize world is an easy second, though.

th18 unconnected marketeers: this soundtrack is so romantic. very lovely melodies. my favorite is the perpetual snow of komakusa blossoms. it’s memorable to me for whatever reason.

th19 unfinished dream of all living ghost: i’m gonna choose to limit myself to the songs that aren’t covers of existing touhou songs, cuz some of them are pretty similar even if i might like them “more”, like corpse voyage ~ be of good cheer. so i’ll go with the deviants’ unobstructed light ~ kingdom of nothingness. the vocal samples are cool.

i’ll list my favorite songs from the doujin albums in a separate reblog, because damn this is getting long!!

#💘

32 notes · View notes

teriri-sayes · 3 hours

Text

Reactions to Chaos Creator's Chapter 289

Brief summary: Cale warns Emperor Alt to choose between him or the dragons. Cale gives Clopeh the guardian knight's sword.

==========

Emperor Alt was walking on a tightrope, balancing between Cale and the dragons. Cale thought he was sly, but also foolish, so he warned the emperor.

Alt snitched on Cale to Exion about what Cale had done, but kept his agreement with Cale a secret. Unfortunately for him, the wind elementals in the palace snitched on him to Cale. 😂 Good luck outsmarting Cale... 😂😂😂

Cale told Alt about the world's imminent destruction, and adviced Alt to make a choice. Will he used as a pawn by the dragons, and die along with the world? Or will he side with Cale and live as a hero of Aipotu? It was advice, but it was more like a threat when it came out of Cale's mouth. 😂 And Cale scared Alt without even using his DA.

Cale messaged GoD to send people from the Central Plains to Aipotu while GoB had gone crazy from GoC's antics. In exchange, he'd offer GoB information about GoC. Or not. I'm actually confused on this part because the machine translation was confusing regardless of what machine translator I used.

Anyway, I'm excited to see Heavenly Demon soon. And Cale planned to bring the Tang Clan of Sichuan too, because you know, the Dragon Lord destroyed Sichuan, their home, so they'd obviously be furious at the Dragon Lord.

The last part of the chapter was Cale meeting Clopeh to give the sword. Of course, since Clopeh was involved, this was bound to be hilarious. 🤣🤣🤣

Narrator: Cale found himself face-to-face with a very unharmed, very bright, and very much in good spirits Clopeh. Clopeh: *gets down on one knee* Cale-nim. As your guardian knight, I will devote my everything to defend this position. Cale: (Ah. Although this is the result I wanted, but ah. Ah, why are you like this...) Cale: Annoying. Cale: (Wait, did I say that aloud? Oops, let's smile brightly at him then. But seeing him liking it is annoying me.) Cale: Here, take it. *gives wooden sword to Clopeh* Clopeh: *receives wooden sword* Cale: (Now, he only needs to sprinkle some of his blood on the sword and make it recognize him as its owner.) Clopeh: *sprinkles blood and mentally talks to the sword* Clopeh: !!! *gets angry* Clopeh: How dare you compare a dragon to Cale-nim? Sword: *shaking as if trying to escape from Clopeh* Clopeh: *smiles and says with a gentle voice* You can't escape. Raon: Human, human! Clopeh has gone crazy! Cale: (Well...) Raon: He's a little scary! Cale: (...Yeah, he's indeed a little scary.) Cale, Raon, and CH: *takes a step back from Clopeh*

I think we now know why the chapter title is "Cale-nim is better than a dragon." 🤣🤣🤣

Ending Remarks Clopeh's actions continue to amuse me. 🥰 Next chapter is... I don't know. Maybe we'll get a glimpse of Clopeh's conversation with the sword? Or we'll get a time skip to Cale meeting Exion? Or Cale will finally remember to tell DHB his new name?

#tcf spoilers #trash of the count's family

29 notes · View notes

sm0lprism · 1 day

Text

Bite-Sized (10) - A G/t BG3 fanfic

This contains g/t (giant/tiny content) so if that isn't your thing, then I suggest you stop reading. Thank you!

Read on ao3

Summary: Ria awaits her impending fate inside Astarion's mouth. Will this be the end for her or will Astarion surprise her?

Pairing: Astarion x f!borrower!oc (Tav/oc) (slow-burn)

Warnings: MOUTHPLAY WARNING!!! If you are uncomfortable with mouthplay or vore-ish themes, then DO NOT read this chapter! No actual vore occurs but mouthplay is VERY prominent and makes up the majority of this chapter. Swearing/course language.

Word count: 2.5k

It took every fibre in her being not to scream as Astarion’s lips passed over her body, pulling her inside his open maw. Before her eyes could adjust to the change in lighting, she was suddenly pressed to the roof of his mouth as he took a loud gulp and swallowed the remaining beer from his cup. She remained motionless as the giant fleshy muscle held her in place, all she could do was watch in terror as the liquid disappeared down his cavernous throat in a matter of seconds. All it would take was one swallow, and she would disappear down his gullet too.

His tongue suddenly relaxed, the beer now gone down his throat, and she found herself lying on the expanse of his wet, warm tongue. The scent of beer was heavy in the air, but it chilled her to the bone when she could also smell the metallic scent of blood hanging evidently in his mouth too. Tears burned her eyes and she stifled a sob. Her breathing came out in raspy gasps as dread hooked its claws into her once more as she attempted to process what was happening.

Gods, is he going to eat me?! Will I die like this?

Her mind immediately flickered back to when she had first met Astarion, how he had been so intent on eating her, how he had tasted her blood, running his tongue over her arms, and held her squirming in his cold fist like she was nothing but a mere piece of meat ready to be eaten. Fear clung fiercely to her heart and it quickly spread to the rest of her body like wildfire, smothering any other rational thought that was left in her brain. How could she sit idly, inside a vampire’s mouth, and not do anything? If she didn’t do something right now, she could be taking a trip down his throat very soon. She refused to wait around to see what would happen if she chose to remain idle.

My dagger.

As soon as the thought struck her brain, she hastily reached for her tiny dagger that Dammon had so carefully crafted and gripped it firmly in her trembling fist. Without a second thought, Ria drove her dagger into the flesh of his tongue and began stabbing the muscle multiple times as pure adrenaline clutched onto her hungrily with a vice-like grip. No sensible thoughts crossed her mind as she stabbed relentlessly, all she could think about was how much she didn’t want to go down Astarion’s throat and into his waiting stomach.

“Let me out!” she shrieked at the top of her lungs, blood from his tongue now splattering over her clothes as she continued to stab the wet surface, tears streaming down her face. “I haven’t come this far to be eaten by the likes of you!”

The fleshy surface beneath her suddenly tensed before pinning her to his palate once more, an audible grunt resonating loudly from the back of his throat. In the confusion of the moment, the dagger slipped out of her grasp and clanged against his large molars before falling and wedging itself between some of his pristine teeth that were dangerously close to the back of his throat. All she could do was watch in stunned silence, aside from the gurgling noises coming from the back of his throat, as her only means of defense was completely out of her reach.

Shit. Shit. SHIT!

Now she was quite literally at his mercy.

Perhaps stabbing his tongue so persistently wasn’t a good idea after all.

Sealing her eyes shut, she waited for the dreaded moment where he would swallow. Surely after her outburst of frequent stabbing, he would be done with her and gulp her down with no hesitation. Her body trembled as more sobs racked through her core violently as she waited for the end. But moments passed, and she was still pinned to the roof of his mouth as his tongue firmly held her in place.

What is happening?

Opening her eyes, her gaze scanned her surroundings and she was soon greeted with a formidable wall of teeth. She shuddered as her eyes fell on his fangs, so large that they could impale her entire body if he so pleased. Those same fangs had almost ended her life only a few weeks ago, and now she was face to face with them once more inside the vampire’s mouth. Chills snaked down her spine, suppressing another shiver, as she recalled those memories yet again of that fateful night. However, this time was different to when she had first met him – she was alive and inside the vampire’s mouth now, and surprisingly not halfway down to his stomach.

Why hasn’t he eaten me yet?

She wriggled around against his soft tongue, wondering if he was simply tasting her before the inevitable happened. Surely if he was going to eat her, he would’ve done so by now – right? His tongue barely moved, cradling her delicately against his palate, and it showed no signs in flicking her body down his throat. All she could do was wait painfully to see what he would do. Her heart pounded relentlessly against her ribcage, threatening to burst right out of her chest, her stomach dropping like a stone. If Astarion didn’t end her soon, the sheer suspense of the moment would.

After what felt like days, his tongue slowly relaxed and lowered her down until she was resting on the bottom of his mouth again. She didn’t dare move a muscle as she quivered on top of his tongue. Seconds turned to minutes, but still nothing happened. His tongue was surprisingly still as well, holding her as if she was as fragile as glass. While she sat in the vampire’s mouth, her overwhelming fear started to slowly dwindle. Her body was still frozen in place, refusing to move, worried that if she attempted to move again, he would squash her to the roof of his mouth, or even worse, swallow her whole. While she laid on his tongue, the only noises she could hear was the bubbling noise at the back of his throat. It certainly unnerved her listening to his bodily functions, a constant reminder of where she could easily end up if Astarion willed it.

Saliva coated her entire body, drenching all her clothes until they were a sodden mess. She sniffled as she realised that if she survived this, her clothes were completely and utterly ruined. There was no way she could walk out of this with any dignity left to her name, if she managed to get out of this at all. At least it was…pleasantly warm inside his mouth. It shocked her that while Astarion himself was icy cold to the touch, his mouth was surprisingly cosy. It pained her that the thought even crossed her mind, but the warmth that radiated from his mouth could only be described as such. Perhaps there was hope for her yet. She recalled Astarion winking at her moments before he slipped her inside his mouth, and how he had looked almost apologetic. Maybe she would be fine after all. And maybe stabbing his tongue had been incredibly stupid of her, but in her defense, after everything that she had been through, stabbing him was a perfectly reasonable reaction to the situation. Or at least that’s what she would keep on telling herself.

Pools of saliva had now started to gather around his tongue, steadily increasing by each passing second. A small yelp escaped past her lips as the fleshy muscle suddenly pinned her against his teeth, his throat releasing a very loud swallowing sound as the gathering pools of saliva vanished down his throat in a matter of seconds. Panic fluttered in her chest like a swarm of butterflies as she watched the liquid disappear so quickly down his gullet, and she shivered, thinking how easily that could’ve been her.

He…he still isn’t swallowing me.

His tongue soon relaxed, no longer pressing her against the wall of giant teeth. She inhaled a shaky breath, attempting to calm her frantic beating heart as she slowly accepted that perhaps she was safe after all. Why would he deliberately avoid swallowing her multiple times if he wasn’t going to do it? Especially after she had stabbed his tongue so harshly, she had expected him to swallow her almost immediately after doing something like that. But despite everything, he was holding her on top of his tongue like she was some kind of prized jewel. She was surprised that the vampire could be so gentle, especially in his mouth of all places where his dangerously sharp fangs could easily tear her in half.

Does he…care about me?

As soon as the thought entered her brain, heat blossomed across her face and her heart almost skipped a beat. Maybe he did care about her somewhat, after all, she had persuaded the group to allow him to feed on bandits and other thinking creatures. He had expressed gratitude towards her, and he had even thanked her for it the previous night. But she still couldn’t believe it.

No, that can’t be right. There’s no way that he could, especially after everything that’s happened…

The burning blush on her face only deepened and she knew for a fact that he could feel her tiny heartbeat pounding fiercely against her chest. She needed to get out of there quickly. She wasn’t sure just how much more of this she could take without turning into a complete mess.

Gods, why me? Why did I have to suggest the alcohol idea in the first place?

As if her prayers were answered, light suddenly showered down on her small frame as his lips parted open. A startled squeak jumped out of her throat as pale, cold fingers gripped her waist and pulled her out of his mouth and into the cold air from outside. She shivered as the freezing air caressed over her saliva-coated skin, and for a brief second, she almost wished that she was back inside the warmth of the vampire’s mouth.

Before she could even process the thought, silky fabric smothered her entire body and gently massaged small circles into her drenched skin and clothes. She was completely numb to it all, her brain still attempting to comprehend what was even happening, but through all her mixed and flustered emotions she gathered that Astarion was attempting to dry her with what seemed to be a handkerchief of some kind. He continued to softly dry her soaked body, including her little head, his saliva and drying movements causing her hair to stick up in utterly ridiculous angles. Her face burned with embarrassment as he continued to dry her body and she was a little grateful that he couldn’t see her face during that moment.

The fabric soon pulled away, revealing Astarion’s piercing red gaze that settled on her small frame as she quivered in the palm of his hand.

“Well.” Astarion’s tongue swiped over his lips, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “That certainly got a lot more intimate than what we planned for, didn’t it, darling?”

She opened and closed her mouth, but no audible sound registered on her lips. How was she supposed to talk after going through all of that, and then have him say that to her? Not to mention the way he ran his tongue over his lips – although she couldn’t tell if that was deliberate or not, it sent her heart spasming in her chest. Her mind failed to string together a coherent sentence as her lip trembled.

Astarion faltered, clearly seeing the look of distraught across her puffy face made him rethink what he was going to say next. His usual cheeky demeanour soon faded and was quickly replaced with a look of worry that once again surprised her.

“I do apologise for…uh…that.” He cleared his throat, his sanguine eyes staring at her with a soft warmth that was much unlike his usual piercing glare. “Holding you in my mouth was not my intended plan at all.”

He paused for a moment, his eyebrows knitting together as he cradled her in his hand.

“Are you alright?”

Her throat felt as if it were being crushed by some unseen force, tears pricked at her eyelids as her gaze darted away from his face to look at the floor below her as she sat in his cold palm. She didn’t know how to respond, after being faced with death once again and having those memories resurface, all she wanted to do was to run away and hide.

Of course I’m not alright. After all that, how can I possibly be?

“Ria?” Astarion’s voice rumbled all around her, startling her from her thoughts.

“Put me down,” she rasped, her voice barely above a whisper.

Both of his eyebrows shot up upon hearing her request. “Ria, we can ta-”

“I said put me down!” she exclaimed, tears burning her cheeks, her face swollen and puffy from crying. “Please. Now.”

He didn’t question her further as he dropped to one knee and lowered his hand to the ground. Immediately she hopped off his palm, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand as she blinked back more tears.

She angled her neck upwards to look at him, his towering frame casting a long shadow over her tiny body as she swallowed back her rising fear. Now that she was on the ground, she was reminded once again just how small she was compared to him and everything else.

She needed to get away from him.

Before he could say anything, she sprinted away from him in the opposite direction. The ground trembled as his footsteps shuffled around on the dusty ground, and that only made her run faster.

Maybe it was utterly foolish for her to run away from her only means of protection, but she couldn’t bear to be around him in her current state. For her own sanity, she needed to get far away from him. They were still outside the Goblin Camp, the noises of the cheering from the goblins celebrating their latest kill rung heavily through the air, but she ignored it and continued to sprint towards the main building.

“Ria!” Astarion’s voice boomed from above, rattling through her very core and sending adrenaline spiking through her bloodstream. His large footfalls sent trembling earthquakes through the ground and she forced her legs to continue to run with all she had, not daring to look back.

In front of her she saw a small hole encrusted in the wall of the main building, just the right size for her to crawl into. She dashed inside, briefly feeling Astarion’s fingers brush past her hair as he made a failed attempt at grabbing her.

“Wait, just hold on!” Astarion shouted from outside, his voice piercing her tiny eardrums and she flinched from the intensity.

She ignored his words and instead ventured into the depths of the Goblin Camp.

25 notes · View notes

erose-this-name · 2 days

Text

Punishment.

Cult of the Lamb Ficlet because I lost control of my life again

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=⁂=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Lamb and their right hand cat, Narinder, walk about the cult grounds discussing plans for new buildings.

Kallamar and Saleos walk by, the former passively rambling outloud about schemes he will never actually go through with to the latter who just nods along, with the same reverence and eagerness a dog might have toward its owner. Kallamar seems to look at Saleos the same way one might be looked at by their housecat. As little good as they're surely up to, neither god of death pays them any mind, as they have proved to be more harmless together than apart.

Lamb chats to Narinder while sketching vague blueprints, “I saw you at your siblings’ house earlier, Nari’.”

Narinder grunts, “... And?”

“Don’t tell me The One Who Waited has forgiven them after being neighbors with them for only two hundred years?” Lamb teases.

“Of course not! None of my siblings have my forgiveness, nor will they ever. But, that spider is hardly the same person who betrayed me, not anymore. No point punishing the innocent. No point in letting what little remains of their talents go to waste.”

Narinder chooses his words carefully, the Lamb has probably already gleaned from his thoughts that he went to see Shamura, but maybe he could hide his intent behind ambiguity. This is just another facet of the countless indignities and adjustments he has had to go through after losing his Crown.

“Pragmatic!” Lamb smiles, complimenting the cat. Then, why do you think of guilt, Narinder?

Leshy bursts from the ground before Lamb, startling the young god of death. The worm bares his teeth, “Horrendous cruel beast! Why does Heket have to tend to both the farms and the gardens!? And is the head chef? EXPLAIN YOURSELF, IMMEDIATELY!”

Narinder rolls his third eye and picks up the blueprint Lamb had been working on, checking the shrine dimensions and blood plumbing for mistakes or minor improvements. It’s a skill that is easy to learn, but takes eons of practice to master.

Lamb looks at the worm with a wide friendly smile, unsure of his angle. His chaotic thoughts do not help. “Because, Leshy… She’s an ex-fertility goddess of harvest. I know it’s a lot of work, and she said she was the god of famine, but she seems to retain some power or knowledge of the opposite, so I think she can handle-”

Leshy throws his arms up, “SO DO I! I AM THE GOD OF NATURE! LOOK AT ME! I’M LITERALLY PART PLANT! Heket’s domain is merely domestic crops. Allow me to tend to the flowers and the trees, and I will grow them better than she ever could. Those camellias will have no choice but to obey me, FOR I AM THEIR GOD.”

Lamb tilts their head inquisitively, reopening the wound hidden under their bell collar, “Huh, so that’s why you look like that. I always thought you were the god of chaos?”

“Chaos is nature! Plants are not meant to be grown in ugly rows, so called ‘weeds’ are not meant to be pulled up, my hedges not meant to be trimmed into cubes. Nature is chaotic, it’s people who inflict their order upon it.” Leshy balls his fist.

“But, weren’t you also technically the god of order?” Lamb raises a brow, discreetly checking to make sure they’re wearing the blood red fleece, today. Or at least the robe they stole from Narinder.

Leshy produces a flower from somewhere, likely thin air, and uses it as a prop, “I am! Order is nature! Have you ever considered a flower? The intricacies and mathematical perfection of their petals, that I painted? The perfectly rehearsed dance of an ecosystem in balance? Nature is ordered, it’s people who inflict their chaos upon it.”

“Uh…” Lamb smiles, incredulously.

“What? That made perfect sense, right Narinder? The vile lamb must also be stupid.” Leshy says, rolling his non-existent eyes and throwing an arm around Narinder’s shoulder.

Narinder shrugs him off, not seeming to give a shit.

Lamb says, “Thank you for your concern, Leshy, but I think our current camellia output is sufficient. We really can’t spare another lumberjack, especially one as talented as you.~”

The green worm glowers at the Lamb, bearing his teeth. He turns and storms off.

Narinder watches his brother walk off. He turns to the Lamb, “Why did you put Heket in charge of sustenance? She is not above poisoning, or worse, you are aware of that.”

Lamb giggles, dropping the façade and rubbing their neck, “Because working with food torments her, now she can’t eat anything. Not if it’s still solid. She’s still much too proud to do a bad job, though. And I’m not worried about her poisons, anymore.”

Narinder says, “Oh. She always was a glutton, I suppose.”

“You think I’m being cruel, Nari’?” Lamb says coquettishly, licking their own blood and ichor from their clawed fingers.

Narinder’s three eyes narrow at the Lamb, “Cease your reading of my mind. And, yes, of course I do. However, I did not say it was a bad thing. She deserves it. I imagine that is also why you have Leshy cutting trees down, instead of growing them? Scary, how much of my vindictiveness has rubbed off on you, once so innocent... and, come to think, this is also probably why I was made your ‘disciple’, wasn't it?”

The Lamb gives him a sharp smile, “Ehehehe! Now, I’m starting to wonder if you can read my mind. A fitting punishment, yea? Always by my side. So close to the object of your desire, yet forever powerless to take it…”

Narinder’s face turns red and he gets a nosebleed. “I HATE YOU, Lamb! You are horrible and evil and vile, I’m leaving now.”

The three-eyed cat runs back into his hut.

Lamb mumbles to themself, obliviously, “Huh? He’s still thinking I’m cruel. He must really want the Red Crown back, I better keep teasing him with it!”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=⁂=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

As Leshy retreats to a secluded part of the cult grounds with a bottle of ‘very good’ wine he stole, to brood over the Lamb’s refusal, he groans to realize that he’s unfortunate enough for Kallamar to have already been there doing the same thing.

Kallamar smiles and waves, beckoning Leshy to sit beside him. After a few moments of Leshy not reacting, he speaks up, “Hello, Brother! Sit down, sit down! Still living with that mortal cat?”

Leshy sighs as he does so, “Yes. Still living in Heket’s basement?”

“Just because she built a floor above mine doesn’t make it the basement. It’s a ‘cellar’…” Kallamar clarifies.

“Rrrright.” Leshy brings his bottle to his lips.

“You know, it’s funny how you only act like a normal person when you’re drunk. You’re so much more genuine, this way. I much prefer it.”

Leshy spits out his wine, “W-what’s that supposed to mean?! I’M ALWAYS NORMAL!!! … So, anyways, how’s Shamura doing? If you ever need help taking care of-”

Kallamar cuts him off, “Oh, could you? That'd be great. Saleos hardly ever has time to help. Shamura's condition is… well they haven’t been getting any less lucid. They can take care of most things themself, these days. That’s actually what I was about to mention. Narinder came by the house today. Was asking to visit them.”

Leshy’s hand tightens around the bottle’s neck, “What? You didn’t let him, did you?”

“Of course not. Heket would’ve had my head if I did.”

“Huh… Why?”

“No idea, I can never read the guy. Maybe he feels bad? He used to be very close to Shamura, can’t imagine he wanted any of this to happen.”

“Maybe… But why now? We’ve been living here for a century-”

“Centuries, actually. This year, it’s two hundred.” The squid corrects.

Leshy sighs, “... ‘Centuriessssss’. You know what I mean. Maybe that horrid little Lamb put him up to it. Seems to enjoy torturing us like that.”

Kallamar shrugs, “Shamura’s been asking about Narinder ever since.”

Leshy raises his tone, “Shamura doesn’t know any better. They don’t even understand what happened to them, half the time. Even when they still had the Purple Crown, they kept giving him ‘gifts’. As if nothing had changed.”

Kallamar swirls the red liquid around in his bottle, “I don’t know. You really don’t think it isn’t time to extend the olive branch? He’s in the same boat as us, now. To be honest, I don’t even blame Narinder. He did what any of us would have done in that situation.”

“That’s… surprising to hear from you, Kallamar.”

“I just wish I didn’t have to get caught up in the crossfire. And, isolating Narinder has only been driving him closer to the Lamb, somehow. They are our real enemy.”

Leshy rolls his nonexistent eyes, “Ah, there it is… I mean, I don’t disagree. I empathize with him. And I miss having him as a brother, before all of this. But, I don’t know if I could ever forgive him, not after all he’s taken from me. My existence is hell, because of him.”

“Isn’t that more because of the Lamb, Brother?”

“What? No. Don’t get me wrong, I despise the Lamb. But, it was Narinder who gouged out my eyes, who sicced that vile beast on me.”

“... so?” Kallamar raises a brow.

“W-what do you mean ‘so’? Look at me! What he did to me.” Leshy gestures to his bandaged face.

“He did the same to all of us, you don’t see me asking for pity.” Kallamar takes a drink.

Leshy laughs in Kallamar’s face.

“PFFHAhAHAHahah! NO! No-no, no, no. No. We are not the same. I will admit, Shamura received a far worse fate than I, though my own suffering outweighs that of everyone besides. Then, after mine, was Heket’s. Then Narinder’s. And only then, last of all, is you. He Who Waited merely tore off part of the outside fins of your ears, you are not even deaf, not completely… And, I don’t despise you for losing nothing, Brother, I detest you because you got off so easy because you were a coward then, and you won’t even admit it because you are a coward now.”

Kallamar shakes his head, “Lost ‘nothing’? I lost my crown, my cult!”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, but yes. You did, though I’m sure you cried and bitched the whole time instead of fighting like a man. But, it’s not like you were depending on yours just to hear. Or to speak. Or see.” The worm growls.

“You weren’t exactly blind until becoming a mortal. Didn’t you say you could see with the Green Crown’s eye?”

“That… that wasn’t the same! Didn’t you ever try looking through yours!? The Crowns see only truth, that isn’t the same as seeing. Beauty. Is. Not. True. Natural beauty was once all I cared about bringing into the world, it was what gave my existence meaning, what brought me happiness… For centuries, I haven’t been able to remember what flowers look like. I know their fragrance, their feel, their shape, but their color? I am told camellias are red, red like blood. What is ‘red’, Kallamar? The Green Crown did not give me the emotion of red, not the association of blood and passion, not the striking vibrancy, it merely informed me of the wavelength of photons bouncing off chemical bonds in their pigments and the chemistry and evolution of those biomolecules, and I don’t even have that anymore. ‘Dappled sunlight trickling down from the canopy of Darkwood onto a glittering stream between mossy rocks’, these are only words to me. I can no longer imagine it, as I can’t think in images anymore, only in words and concepts… Every time that I feel cool breeze through my leaflets carrying the perfume of camellias, all I can think of is that I will spend eternity never again knowing their beauty. W-whenever my cat gives me one, I…” Leshy’s lip quivers, he shakes his head.

His head drops into his hands, the worm mumbles, “What’s even the point of living anymore? I want… I deserve death. But this vile, horrid, cruel beast won’t even let me die. They know how I feel, their Crown must show them, they know how torturous this existence is for me! And still they stand there, mocking me, with that horrible sadistic smile. Acting like nothing is wrong.”

Kallamar stares at Leshy, his stitched brow furrowing. “How dare you, Brother? How dare you think that you have the right to hate me, when I already hate myself? H-how dare you think so little of yourself as to deserve pity from someone as worthless as me, when you’re still you? Do you have any idea how much I envy you right now, Leshy? Long before all this, even when you were but a wyrmling barely in control of your Crown, I still envied you. Because, you’re right. I am a coward, and a fucking idiot, not even the Blue Crown could fix that about me, because I’m also so fucking stubborn. I never deserved godhood. But it came so naturally to you, you’re so damn confident, and brave, and fucking cool looking! Everyone loved you for it! Your followers were inspired by you, drawn to you! My cult never even respected me, only feared me… Except for Saleos, he’s somehow worse… I should’ve been proud of you, as your elder bloodbrother, but as worthless and horrid as I am, I felt only jealousy… and loathed myself for it… If you think your greatness was taken from you, I never had any to begin with. If you’d even care.”

Leshy stands up, mouth downturned, the moss on his cheeks caked with wet ichor.

He punches Kallamar in the face.

The squid clutches the burst stitches across his face, “OW! What the hell, Leshy?”

Leshy sneers, “Ooh, you think you deserve pity for knowing you’re pathetic? Don’t you try to out-do my pain! Don’t you think you’re the only one that hates himself. If even you couldn’t tolerate your bullshit, why didn’t you just fucking man up and die!?”

Kallamar reaches for his bottle. Leshy hits him again. The squid falls back, over the log, and flat onto the ground.

The worm screams, “You think what the Green Crown did to me ‘looks cool?’, I’m a tree! You can pass as a normal squid. I have to tell people I’m an abomination, because I am. I’m a monster that devoured souls and families, and enjoyed it. And you think that was a good thing? You think they loved me for it? I didn’t even know what love was! Did you really think that I would feel better if I knew you only hate yourself because you weren’t consumed by your Crown, like me? Because you were still a person underneath it?! Do you understand how lucky someone like you is to have Saleos? How little you deserve his forgiveness, his love? After everything he sacrificed to you, willingly? And every day, you spit in his face!”

Kallamar curls up into a ball as Leshy kicks him repeatedly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, p-please…”

Leshy stops, tears dampening his bandages. “Now… Saleos is going to tend to your wounds, you’ll talk his ears off about this, and he’ll still be on your side… and I’ll go home, and my cat will tell me all about how much he loves that benevolent Lamb for saving him from Darkwood. For vanquishing that evil god of chaos…”

Kallamar looks between bloody, shaking fingers, “H-he… still doesn’t know?”

Leshy sits down, wiping ichor from his hands, sniffling. “No. Of course not… I’m a worthless coward.”

The Lamb watches them from the temple window, with a horrible sadistic smile.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=⁂=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

#writing #fanfic #cult of the lamb #cotl lamb #cotl leshy #cotl narinder #cotl kallamar

26 notes · View notes

pagannatural · 11 hours

Text

2.13 Houses of the Holy

- Religious plot begins in earnest. Sam is Able and Eve and original sin and also Christ dying for those sins. He is Dean’s disciple. Dean is Cain and Adam and the Holy Spirit and God. Their conflict is destiny/blood/family vs free will/choice/love, the pure vs the tainted vs the merely human. The muddy non-dichotomous nature of love and of good and evil.

So far the question of the brothers saving each other and the world has been self-contained: only Dean can save or kill Sam, and in doing so, himself. In other words only Sam can succumb to evil and damn his brother or retain his humanity and his brother. Their struggle is religious by definition. Religion in supernatural is characterized by the trinity of good, evil, and human, and the brothers are twin souls who need each other to stay human. Sam needs to overcome his shame and belief that he isn’t chosen, that he doesn’t belong; Dean needs to overcome his guilt and belief that he can never be enough. The threat of them losing their humanity and free will is literal as they will learn they’re destined to become vessels, but they don’t know that yet.

- Dean is lying on the motel bed listening to “Hair of the Dog”. Right when Sam walks in these lyrics are playing in his ears:

Heartbreaker, soul shaker/I've been told about you/Steamroller, midnight stroller/What they've been saying must be true

These lyrics pertain to Sam and his fate. This song was chosen very intentionally, it’s shown on Dean’s iPod screen. It’s foreshadowing. And Sam is Dean’s heartbreaker soul shaker.

Sam stands there next to a partition decorated with burlesque silhouettes of women, watching Dean’s body being shaken on the bed. It’s kind of a weird image. Dean looks like sleeping beauty the way the bed is lit. Or like a main course.

“You’re enjoying that way too much, it’s kind of making me uncomfortable” Sam says while looking up at the wall behind Dean exactly like he did when he was trying to avoid staring at Dean’s ass in an earlier episode. Very heaven-help-me.

His discomfort seems like attraction. I want to break down this scene because it’s played as a joke, like it’s funny that Dean is so hedonistic, but he’s essentially just using the massage function on the bed. He’s fully clothed and he’s listening to music, just chilling. He’s bored. So the joke is either that this isn’t really that intimate and yet Sam is so uncomfortable for Some Reason that he’s having a hard time looking straight at Dean, or that Sam really has walked in on an intimate moment and he responds by staring and going up to Dean all flustered and asking him to stop. Either way, Sam is watching Dean experience pleasure, and gulping because of it.

It highlights that Sam is uninterested in sex, and food, and pleasure in general, and it bothers him that Dean is. Sam later calls it Dean’s “sick habit” and tells him he’s like one of those lab rats that pushes the pleasure button instead of the food button until it dies.

I noticed recently that even in the pilot, Sam is shown kissing Jessica and acting loving with her, but the shot of them in bed has them apart and Sam facing away from her in his sleep. It’s Dean who ogles her in her underwear. Sam has been shown clinging to Dean, sleeping facing him, checking him out, and chastising him for his womanizing. The one woman he kissed was for Dean’s benefit. Sam’s relationship with his sexuality is consistently shown linked directly to Dean. Maybe exclusively to Dean at this point.

After this exchange, Sam goes into the bathroom and washes his hands for Some Reason. Because he’s feeling unclean?

-interesting how the killers’ houses shake like there’s an earthquake before what they think is an angel appears to them- the second guy is even lying on his bed when it starts shaking. Dean is on his shaking bed when Sam appears to him at the motel, like Sam is his angel.

-Dean says Sam has him on lockdown. So Sam insisted that Dean stay back for his safety. He’s looking out for him, always asking Dean to stay safe.

-Sam believes in angels and god because of the monsters they hunt, Dean doesn’t believe in angels or god because of the monsters they hunt. The difference in the way their beliefs developed is that Dean believed in angels as a small child until his mom burned to death and he learned monsters are real, whereas Sam was certainly never encouraged to believe in religion and had to find something to cling to in the chaos and uncertainty of how he was raised. Sam felt unclean or like something was wrong with him so he tried to separate himself from the monsters. Dean believed he wasn’t good enough so he chose not to believe in a god that was a disappointment and that he believed he would surely disappoint.

- Sam tells Dean he prays every day, which Dean didn’t know. He acts like this is some kind of betrayal. I think the betrayal is literally just that he didn’t know and he wants to know every single thing about Sam.

-Sam collapses after seeing what he thinks is an angel, and Dean gets on his knees to put both hands on him. He keeps touching him when they’re walking out. He hauls Sam to his feet bodily.

This frame is so good because Dean is glaring at the angel statue and Sam is looking up at Dean.

Sam wants to be chosen by an angel. He thinks that would mean he’s good. He felt left behind and second-best by his dad, and felt that Dean would choose hunting and John over him for much of his life. He realizes now that Dean chooses him.

-Dean makes sure the woman he saves is okay and has a cell phone and tells her to call 911 before he runs after her assailant. He cares more about the wellbeing of the victim than he does about catching the bad guy.

-when Sam says “you were right” Dean gives him this look that’s so full of love, it’s plain that Dean doesn’t care about being right. He just sees his little brother in pain and wants to make it better.

-Sam sits down so that he’s looking up at Dean during their conversation. He has tears in his eyes talking about wanting to be saved. Dean tells Sam “I’m watching out for you”

Sam doesn’t doubt Dean’s dedication to him and desire to protect him. But doesn’t think Dean can save him, and more importantly he’s afraid he can’t save himself. He sees Dean as fundamentally good and strong but he also harbors judgment toward Dean for needing him. It’s protective for Sam to not need anyone, which is why his arc deals with the isolation of shame. Religion can’t save him because it doesn’t make him believe he is good, and because ultimately it leaves him alone.

-Dean tells him that he witnessed “God’s will” the way that the perp was just killed in front of him. He’s letting himself hope and giving Sam hope. They’ve both seen so much chaos and evil, they need to believe there’s good and meaning in the world. Dean’s doubt challenges his beliefs about the world and himself, and it’s his words that give Sam the hope he needs.

-episode is about lost souls and purpose. A series of people who the show depicts as lost are given a sense of meaning and belonging to something bigger than themselves, but the problem is that they don’t question it—they simply obey, acting as if without free will. They’re wrong, but they’re happy and full of certainty. Sam and Dean are lost too, but they’re unable to have blind unquestioning faith. The result is that they do good: Dean protects and shows kindness to a woman who was attacked, Sam facilitates a way for a spirit to be put to rest. But they have doubt, which means they also have fear. And they’re left knowing that they have themselves and each other. It’s meant to be complicated and frightening and painful because that’s what it means to be human, and that’s where love and compassion live.

#supernatural #supernatural meta #samdean #Sam and Dean #wincest #spn meta #spn 2x13

22 notes · View notes

anxiousnerdwritings · 22 hours

Note

A question about Joanna!lookalike reader.

When she leaves for the north because robert wants her to be able to have the freedom to express her self. is it at first just to stay their, or was there disscusstion of marriage with the Stark family before being sent off?

Also i see that jon snow may be intrested in Joanna!lookalike reader👀

Prehaps when request open i might ask for something about that

I like to imagine that not only is Robert’s first thought to get Joanna!Lookalike!Reader out from the suffocating and distressful environment she’s in but that he would also go with her himself to make sure she gets there safe and settles in alright. Not to mention he definitely wants to fill Ned in on everything going on, spilling all the absolute piping hot tea, and you can bet that big man isn’t leaving without at least discussing the idea of some near future betrothing going on.

You can also be assured that when Robert and the Reader take off for the North, it’s late into the evening/early morning as to not have Cersei finding out cause she would surely throw a massive bitch fit. Robert wouldn’t want her to know of any of his plans to have the Joanna!Lookalike!Reader reside in the North for however long she needs to. Not to mention it would only spite her all the more that she have no knowledge of the Reader’s being sent off.

A part of me likes to imagine that Jaime is well aware of these plans, hell he’s probably on watch when Robert and the Reader leave but he keeps his mouth shut cause he knows deep down that Joanna!Lookalike needs this more than ever after the breakdown they had at dinner that one night. Unlike his sister and father, Jaime does see past the Joanna resemblance and acknowledges the Reader as their own person. And their breakdown just opened his eyes even more so to how much of a damaging effect this has had on them this whole time.

I feel like Robert not only wants to marry Joanna!Lookalike!Reader to Robb (or even Jon👀) to have his and Ned’s blood come together but also to give an excuse for the Reader to stay in Wingerfell and not have to come back home if they don’t want to.

You can bet your sweetcheeks that Jon is gonna be interested in Joanna!Lookalike. Especially given that I completely see the Reader just absolutely letting loose. This is the only chance they get to be as free as they’ll ever be and they’re going to take full advantage of it. They want to run wild, they want to get dirty, they want to not have to be perfect, they just want to be content as they are and I think that would really catch Jon’s attention. There will also of course be a sort of ‘friendly’ yandere rivalry between Jon and Robb for the Reader, not only for their attention but eventually for their hand in marriage as well. At least, it’ll start out friendly enough until things get serious.

If the Reader were to choose Jon, I like to think Robert would be a little more lenient about it. He’s definitely going to talk to Ned about legitimizing his bastard if that’s the case but I almost kinda feel like Robert would let it slide if that’s truly what the Joanna!Lookalike!Reader wanted given everything they’ve gone through and had put on them. Hell, he’s the fucking king he could legitimize Jon himself if he so wanted. And don’t tell him otherwise.

Or the Reader may as well happily give up their royal status if it meant they finally could be who they wanted to be with the person they truly wanted to be with. I could see that being the first thing that crosses Joanna!Lookalike’s mind when the idea of marrying Jon comes up. Heck, the Reader may purposely seek Jon out for his bastard status as an excuse to sever those ties with their suffocatingly overbearing family back home.

Gods, could you imagine yan!Jon Snow (especially Book!Jon Snow) finding out his darling was only with him for his bastard status and so they could strip themself of everything that came with the family they were a part of? As much as that would all hurt, I think what would hit him hardest is if his darling didn’t even remotely share the same romantic feelings for his as he did, not a shred of it. Maybe the Reader liked Jon platonically and saw him as a safer option to some degree. I could definitely see him guilt tripping/manipulating them into being intimate with him. Even if it’s holding his hand or kissing him on the lips. But those small acts would only last him so long, he’s starved after all and he wants nothing more than to feel all of the Reader’s love they have to give. Mentally, emotionally, and physically.

#anxious answers #yandere jon snow #yandere house lannister #yandere cersei lannister #yandere tywin lannister #yandere jaime lannister #yandere game of thrones #yandere game of thrones concept #yandere concept

45 notes · View notes