#the crow came to adam

[derangedrhythms]

Who has heard the Crow's love-whisper?

Ted Hughes, Adam and the Sacred Nine; from 'The Crow came to Adam'

#ted hughes #adam and the sacred nine #the crow came to adam #poetry #excerpts #corvidae #crow

[im-tempted]

Adam you gotta stop being relatable

I can't look at wilbur sootings gold for to long or else I get all upset and forlorn

I will start staring out windows with my hands clasped behind my back

I will start covering all my mirrors with other slightly bigger mirrors that look identical except have wilbur soot carved very carefully into the glass

#🧍<- guy who as soon as they came out started dressing exactly like wilbur fucking soot #i have the sickness #its called trans masc diseases #it's fatal #crow #adam fucking around

[highvern]

Work Me Out II

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: simp gyu, car sex, protected sex, dom!gyu, brat!reader, spitting, choking, minor cock warming

Length: 2.5k

Note: happy 1k! i almost deleted this bc i hated it so y'all have to be extra nice to me about it (im joking) (not really) everyone say thank u @cheolism for beta-ing!

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part I

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

“Hi!” 

“Hi,” Mingyu grins, dropping a kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “You look…”

He lifts your hand, encouraging a spin so he can fully appreciate the black slip dress gliding over your curves.

“Wow.”

“Wow?” You laugh as he pulls you closer, goosebumps rising under the palm at your bare spine.

“Beautiful,” he sighs into your lips. 

He kisses you deeper; crowing you against his chest with a hand at your back. The lull of Mingyu’s lips and cologne lower your defenses, mouth opening to welcome his tongue. But he pulls away just when things breach on the edge of more.

“We’re gonna miss our reservation.” He coos through a smile, dropping a consolatory peck to your nose.

“So?”

You try to bring him back but he dodges you easily, tipping his chin up until your only option is to leave a trail of kisses along his Adam's apple.

“I’d like to take you on at least one real date.” Mingyu argues.

He’d be more convincing if he wasn’t leaving fingerprints on your hips. But you think it's cute how he wants to wine and dine you. When you step back, you notice how his eyes glow the way they always do when met with approval. It’s cute, toes on the border of innocence; and it makes your knees crave the feeling of the hardwood floors so you can give him all the validation he can handle with his cock in your mouth.

But there will be more than enough time for that later.

“Wow, so eating Captain Crunch in our underwear after you defiled me wasn’t a date?” You gasp. “Okay. I see how it is.”

Mingyu snorts but plucks your jacket off the coat rack and holds it open to help you in. “Alright, drama queen. Let’s go.”

The drive is filled with chatter. Over the past week, the initial spark of attraction only grew between you; through chats at the gym, texting, or the one night he came to your apartment and ended up passing out on the couch while the movie continued to play in the background. Somehow it was more intimate waking up fully clothed, big spooning him with your face buried between his shoulder blades than having him drill your guts until tears streaked your face.

Since you slept over that first night, you’ve noticed a plethora of things that make you more fond of Mingyu. How he slurs his words when he’s excited, talking so fast you can barely decipher what he’s saying. If you throw a wink his way while walking across the gym his eyes go wide like he’s completely taken aback by your interest; as if he didn’t have a front seat to how much you liked him. Or if he notices you looking he’ll not so subtly flex or make a face that has you laughing so hard you nearly tumble off the treadmill. Or the way Mingyu prides himself on being a gentleman; pausing his workout and walking you to your car, insisting it's too dark out for him to be comfortable letting you go alone (partially because it's his fault your gym visits became a two hour endeavor since the night in the car, he just can’t stop distracting you in the name of getting to know you better).

It’s the same at the restaurant. Mingyu takes your coat and pulls out your chair. He asks for more details on the book you mentioned on the way over, asking if he can borrow your copy once you finish. He feeds you some of his entree off his fork, splits dessert to satisfy your sweet tooth, and nabs the check from the waiter before you can even think of offering to split the bill.

It’s almost too perfect; like he is running a checklist in his head. But Mingyu isn’t that kind of guy. His enthusiasm is just that, enthusiasm for spending time with you, getting to know you, picking your brain like you’re the most interesting person he’s ever met and he can’t wait to know more.

“How did you not know it was a couples class?” You ask, laughing into the curve of his arm as he walks you back to the car.

“It didn’t say it on the flier! It just said ‘portions for two’ and I thought that meant I’d leave with leftovers.”

“Wow. So Wonwoo got you banned and ate your food?”

“Wonwoo got me banned and neither of us gotta eat the food.”

The collar of Mingyu’s shirt flitters when his chest shakes with laughter, watching you down the slope of his nose. Like a flame in a vacuum, all the oxygen in your lungs is sucked up when you notice how good he looks even under the sterile overhead light. The glass of wine you sipped through dinner doesn’t help; turning your insides to mush and your blood to a boil.

Mingyu is so genuinely sweet you almost feel guilty for crowding him against his car and palming the zipper of his jeans. The taste of whiskey clings to his tongue, sucked away by your own until he opens the door and ushers you into the back seat.

“Mingyu,” you gasp, plucking the foil package from his grip. “Did you expect to fuck me tonight?”

“No,” he groans into the side of your tit, thanking whatever power in the universe exists that you hadn’t worn a bra. “But a man should always be prepared.”

You snort, “Okay, ‘Mr. I don’t sleep with girls I don’t date.’”

“I think that's former ‘Mr. I don’t’ whatever the fuck,” he moans as he finds your mouth.

Fishing his cock out from his underwear, you lazily jerk him to full mast. Mingyu’s hip buck into the swipe of your thumb. You’d drop your mouth to suck away the mess  collecting there but the back seat of his car doesn’t provide much room since your date claims most of the space already. Instead, you settle for tracing your tongue across the raised veins webbing across his neck and nipping at the sensitive lobe of his ear.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Mingyu paws at your ass, fingers digging into the flesh and dragging your covered core closer to his cock. His other hand dips beneath your skirt, thumb swiping at your clit and two thick fingers pushing aside the scrap of fabric posing as underwear to stretch you open without preamble.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Mingyu pants.

You meet every curl of his fingers with a whine, face falling into the cradle of his jaw as he works you up. He’s everywhere; all you can feel, touch, taste. Even his cologne floods your nose; the scent of powdery spice and something intrinsically him that you can’t name.

Whether intentional or not, the match of pace isn’t lost on your mind as your fist sinks over Mingyu’s length the same time he stuffs you with his digits; fucking you by proxy while his tongue licks away every sound of satisfaction before it can make its way between your lips.

Before long, Mingyu bats away your hand to use his own. The second the latex is rolled down he holds himself for you, offering his cock like a prize you can’t refuse.

And he’s right.

The initial discomfort trickles up your spine. Eyes closed, chest caved, you take every inch as Mingyu whispers praise after praise into your neck. Twitching in each other’s hold, each clench of your cunt dips his stomach until you pull him back to your mouth and goad him with a demanding draw against his tongue with your own; a wet suckle more obscene than the way he splits you has him returning the gesture with fervor.

Hips finding a jilted rhythm, Mingyu manages to latch to one of your nipples, teeth razing along the sensitive skin until you nearly collapse from the delightful pain.

Arching into his chest so hard it hurts, your voice cracks, “Oh, Gyu.”

“Good girl,” he groans into your chest.

The hand on your ass pulls you across his cock, forcing you down with each of his thrusts up. Mingyu’s loud but you’re louder and the abandoned top floor of the parking deck doesn’t provide any disguise from what’s happening behind the foggy windows of his SUV. 

As sexy as you are with your head thrown back, desperately moaning his name, the fear of getting caught is starting to suffocate him.

You beat against his chest when Mingyu pins you in place. He crushes you flat against him, pelvis to pelvis, so deep you feel him in your throat. Tight around the stretch, he nearly loses his train of thought but finds it when an involuntary rush of his thighs makes you squeak.

He brushes his thumb across the apple of your cheek in an effort to quell the bubbling tantrum behind your eyes. “Shhh,” he whispers. “We can't get caught.” 

Time stops as you come to a crossroads. Eye to eye, you can see him waiting for a signal. If you want to stop, drive thirty minutes back to either of your apartments, and then go at it like rabbits, Mingyu will do it. If you want him to stop, drop you off at your doorstep, and send him home with the worst hard on of his life, he’ll smile through the tears. But if you want to finish what you’ve both started in the discomfort of the back seat, Mingyu needs you to be quiet.

So you can listen without complaint, bury your face in the column of his neck and bite your lip until it bleeds from strain. Or you can let Mingyu decide the best course of action.

“Then shut me up.” 

A beat of absolute silence rattles your shaking confidence. Mingyu’s eyes widen, jumping back like he’s been burned but you fake courage until you spot the way he licks his teeth at the idea.

Whatever permission he’s looking for he finds in the slight dip of your chin. You watch Mingyu’s mood shift in an instant. The playful tilt of his lips melt away, the corners of his eyes freeze over their usual humor. And the arm around the dip of your waist squeezes so tight you fear he’ll leave a bruise in the shape of his palm.

The hand on your face falls to your jaw, pinching your cheek between his pointer finger and thumb as he tsks, forcing your head back and forth mockingly before he forces his thumb between your teeth.

“Shut. Up.” 

He punctuates his command with a bruising thrust of his cock; thrilled at the way his thumb digging into your tongue chokes any sound. The hand on your ass nearly rips your underwear as Mingyu uses it to guide your hips, keeping you bouncing in his lap until you're drooling.

Mingyu’s teeth rake against your jaw, “Touch yourself.”

You clumsily snake a hand down, hips jerking under the blind swipe of fingers at your core. Eyes unfocused, ears filled with the rush of blood, you don’t resist the urge to bite his thumb just to see what he’ll do next.

The sting of his palm against your ass isn’t a shock.

But the wet of his fingers on your throat is.

And when Mingyu squeezes, cutting off the blood to your brain for a second in a show of possessive strength, your choked wail is music to his ears.

“Fuck, you like that?”

Nodding like a bobble head, more pathetic whimpers fill the car. 

With a shift of weight, he makes you grind against his lap, the metal of his belt buckle cutting into the back of your thighs. But you’re full to the brink of shredding apart you can’t bring yourself to care. Heat in the pit of your stomach blooms, used and deep.

Mingyu fans his hand along your throat, fingers digging into the jut of your jaw to make you look at his face. His hair is a mess, cheeks rosy with sweat at his hairline. A low rumble in his throat is all the warning you get before he spits on your lips and it glides down your chin; slipping under his palm while he squeezes until stars dance in your vision.

Hips stuttering, everything draws tight; every muscle, every vein, each individual cell contracts and detonates until Mingyu fucks into your so hard your head hits the roof as he flails. Thighs firm against the top of his, you feel each sputter into the condom.

“Mingyu,” you croak, throat wrecked.

Everything feels heavy and worn when he brings you into the warmth of his chest. Somehow, you hadn’t managed to undo a single button beyond the four that let you peek at the dip between his pecs; but the friction of his shirt against your sensitive chest makes you shiver. Sweat and spit leave the fabric clinging uncomfortably but you don’t have the energy to change it.

“Jesus Christ.” Mingyu draws in a heavy breath, and the motion has your legs twitching again. “You okay?”

Nodding into his neck, your eyes slip shut. If he keeps tracing shapes on your back, you’re in serious trouble of falling asleep right there in the back of his car with his softening length still inside you. Attempting to prevent the momentum from taking over, you rise on your knees, only for Mingyu to bring you back down.

“Just…just let me hold you for a second.” he sighs, sounding as exhausted as you feel. “Please.”

Peppering languid kisses across his face, down the curve of his cheek, up the bridge of his nose, you smile when he pouts at the lack of attention to his lips. But when you meet them with your own, it's nearly impossible to call it a kiss from the sleepy grins splitting your faces.

“Wanna come back to mine?” Mingyu whispers into your cheek, leaving his own series of kisses. “We can watch that new horror movie you were talking about.”

“You hate scary movies.”

“Oh no, I guess you’ll have to stay the night in case I can’t sleep.”

“How awful!” You mock. “Did you buy more cereal?”

“Mhm.”

With a monumental sigh, “Then I guess I can come over.”

It takes nearly fifteen minutes to find the courage to unwind from each other. Mingyu distracts you by tracing shapes between your shoulder blades and making you guess his artistic interpretation. Each time you're wrong he demands a kiss. Each time you're right he gives you one back.

When you make him guess what your finger burns into his shoulder he nearly faints before deciding it's time to head home, hands intertwined over the center console the entire way.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

#svthub #ksmutsociety #kvanity #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern

[bed-of-briars-archived]

.

#//wait shit I can't believe I forgot to 'HENRY!!! :D' once again. I was adamant I was going to remember the next time he came back. #//Crow leave and come back again real quick while it's in my brain- #ooc

[lxkeee]

Reader being Adam's third wife and Lucifer trying to rizz her up but she was giving him a hard time trying to rizz her

THE DEVIL HAS HIS OWN CHARMS

Notes: I know Lucifer is oozing with rizz but I liked to believe that he'll do that one meme where he just kneels and begs and keeps on saying "please, please, please" just kidding.

Reader is a heaven born angel, one of the oldest. Same age as Lucifer.

When she met Adam, Adam wasn't as bad as the current him. Adam before was nicer and it led [y/n] to fall in love with him.

As many years passed by, Adam became a little shit.

That lead to their divorce.

She was done with him, tired of him.

You know that saying when a girl is done with her s/o they are literally done? Yeah, she was flat out done with him.

Thankfully, they didn't have any kids.

Adam was pissed at this and decided to annoy her.

She was pissed at him and cussing him out, telling him that he's a sore loser for not being able to keep any of his three wives.

And since heaven had an obvious favoritism on him, that led to [y/n] well... Falling out of grace.

After falling, she actually hid away from the king of hell himself.

She hid away from the demons by being in her animal form, she chose to take the form of a crow to blend in with the environment of hell.

That is until she heard about the hotel.

She didn't plan on redeeming herself, no, no.

She didn't want to go back up.

But she planned on helping Charlie Morningstar.

When she joined, they were surprised to see a fallen angel at their door.

Vaggie didn't trust her at first but eventually did.

[y/n] mostly hid in the hotel and barely left the building.

Since they only had Angel Dust as their first guest, she decided to help around and improve the hotel.

When Lucifer decided to visit for the first time the hotel that his daughter is working on. None of the sinners caught his eyes until he was toured around the hotel by his daughter, his daughter's girlfriend Maggie, and the damn radio demon. As they were walking through the hallway, someone appeared on the corner and talked to Charlie for something.

His jaw dropped, a little.

The woman was gorgeous.

For a brief moment he wondered if she was an angel that came from heaven to release him from his sins.

Scratch that, she's making him sin even more.

Charlie introduces her to him and him to her.

Lucifer found out her name is [y/n] and he made sure to remember that. He also found out that the woman was helping his daughter.

He's so madly in love. It's ridiculous, he just met her for his sake!

[y/n] didn't stay long as she quickly left. Which saddened him a little.

A new reason to visit the hotel more.

For the next few weeks, Lucifer visits—twice to thrice a week.

During his time at the hotel he would try to make small talk with the woman that caught his interest.

Trying to get to know her but the woman is so closed off.

He tried to be smooth with his words but she only looked at him up and down with an unamused expression.

His pride is shattered, ironic as he is the symbol of pride.

He ranted about it to Charlie and in which the girl told him that he might be developing a crush.

Jaw dropped. In disbelief.

He denies it but ended up thinking about it the whole night.

He ended up removing his wedding ring as he thought he should actually move on now.

And he actually finally agrees that he is actually coming down with a crush.

On you.

So next time he visits he discreetly flirts with you.

Always ending up with you not being interested.

He's just trying so hard okay? It felt so forced.

Anyways, Lucifer received an advice from Charlie that he should be his authentic self.

And that's where he stopped forcing to make himself sexy or flirty.

And be his usual dorky self.

Which caught you off guard but not dismissing it, in fact you preferred this over how he acted a few days ago.

You and Lucifer slowly gotten to know each other.

The way his jaw dropped when you revealed you're a fallen angel and am ex-wife of Adam.

“Wait! You're a fallen angel and also divorced too? Well, so am I!”

You just laughed at how adorable he is.

Though, Lucifer did ask what happened and you just told him about Adam and how Adam is a little shit and you're basically over him.

You two bonded over your hate for heaven.

And eventually two months later you got together and let's say, Lucifer is certainly a better lover than that piece of shit Adam.

Let's just say Lucifer made you feel the pleasure you haven't properly experienced.

Lucifer did make sure to show it off to Adam's face when he fought the man.

#lxkeee answers #lxkeee updates #hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader

[comatosebunny09]

kindle [ pt. 2 ] | leon k.

genre(s): romance, friends to lovers, modern au

warning(s): language, pining, terms of endearment (doll, sweetheart)

part 2 to this. hope you enjoy! thank you so much for reading! ❤️

It’s a date. Or at least, you assume it is. 

Given the way Leon had sauntered up to your desk, all smirking and sheepish, it was only fair to surmise he had asked you out on one. 

Took him long enough.

He came to you through the dull murmur of the office. When the sun crept towards the horizon, bathing your cubicle in an ethereal orange. You were elbow deep in SIR reports, gnawing on the cap of your pen. Irritation rested between your brows. If you glared any harder, the information sprawled before you would surely combust.

Paperwork was the bane of your existence. Dodging chainsaws, claws, and teeth seemed more appealing. You’d gladly take the cool steel of a beretta biting into your palm over that of a ballpoint. 

Thick, work-worn fingers splayed on your desk, drawing your attention northward. You couldn’t help the slight quirk of your lips. Couldn’t parry that pleasant, fluttery feeling in your gut at the sight of him—your partner, that is. 

Leon’s hair was ruffled with errant strands sticking this way and that. Irises glimmered like sea glass, dancing over your features with boyish fascination. His smile was dimpled, and crow’s feet hung to the corners of his eyes. Dark stubble dappled his chin. His tie was loosened around his neck, while his dress shirt lay slightly untucked and wrinkled. It seemed the day had been as kind to him as it was to you.   

You found yourself resting your cheek in your palm as warmth flooded your innards. Fell under his spell, submerged beneath its shadowy depths, unable to resurface. Not that you wanted to. He held your heart in a vice. You cautioned a “Sup?” wincing at how your voice crackled. How you sounded prepubescent, and you cleared your throat to ward off your nerves.

Leon’s replying chuckle was like velveteen. You felt it in your stomach. Felt it play up your spine like a xylophone. You always found his voice endearing, the low gravel of it sticky and dulcet to your ears. 

As if magnetically drawn to them, you watched his lips, soft and rose-petal red, form around words. Your own tingled as you recalled kissing that very mouth a few nights ago. Committed their texture to memory, quelling the urge to touch your lips. Leon’s Adam’s apple bobbed and the tendons in his neck flexed. You instinctively swallowed, readjusting yourself in your chair.

“Not much,” Leon said, shifting his weight onto one foot. Still propped up on your desk in an easy slouch, swaddling you in the aroma of gun oil and teakwood. Of course, his sleeves were cuffed, baring his sinewy forearms. How badly you wanted to touch them. Drag your fingertips down the forked veins beneath, conjuring the prettiest sounds from his throat. “Just checkin’ on my favorite partner.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I’m your only partner, dickhead.”

“I dunno,” he taunted, standing tall with folded arms. From this angle, it was easy to make out the power of his body. His clothes did little to disguise it. Your throat grew dry, and your voice caught in the bowels of your chest. “Marie over in HR is gunnin’ for your spot.” 

It always surprised you how quickly you could move. How swiftly you could retrieve your stapler and chuck it at him. Leon snorted as he ducked, the damned thing striking a far-off window. He threw his hands up in mock surrender, a youthful crinkle to his eye. 

“Relax, doll. I’m just messin’.” 

You countered with a hmph, clearly over his shit.  

Leon replaced his palms on your desk once the dust settled. Broke the heavy silence by asking, “How’s the admin stuff comin’?” Feigning interest in the documents littering your cubicle, he retrieved a packet, skimming through it with disinterest. Like he wasn’t using you to procrastinate, a pile of pristine, white paper leering at you through his office window. 

With a weighted sigh, you answered, “It’s coming.” A quiet snicker garnered another eye-roll. “Oh, grow the hell up, Kennedy.” 

“Never. You like me like this.”

You cut your eyes at him mid-scribble. Sat your pen down with a definitive clack. These childish games you played made you feel giddy. Like two grade-schoolers in the sandbox, clearly taken by each other. Alright. You’d bite. 

“Says who?” 

It was as if you initiated a challenge. As if you’d stuck out your tongue and said make me. Leon took the bait, inching towards you, huffing out a chuckle. He crept over your desk with the finesse of a jaguar quietly stalking through the bush. Poured himself into your personal bubble, the heat of his body rolling off him in waves, staining your neck, a shiver sifting through your bones. His breath was hot against the shell of your ear. Dizzying as he deliberately exhaled against your skin.

His timbre was dark with mischief as he finally crooned, “Says that dumb little look on your face, sweetheart.”

You’d never punched him harder. 

Leon drew back, gulping down air between a peal of laughter. It became customary for him to torment you like that. To play on the attraction swimming between you, dismantling your resolve and leaking through the fissures of your heart. When the moment became too serious, he often sprinkled in a quip or two to keep you at arm’s length. It was frustrating. How he could act so cool despite the noticeable change in your relationship. 

“What do you even want, Kennedy? I’ve got shit to do,” you sighed, exasperation wading in your tone. Your forehead collided against the cherrywood with a soft thunk. A migraine bloomed on the horizon. Leon’s teasing only served to exacerbate it.

His tone was muffled. Hesitant, rivaled by the idle chatter of your coworkers. “Well, if you must know, I … wanted to see if you had dinner plans?” 

Magma filled your belly. Your eyes shot to him, a sheet of paper comically glued to your forehead. You were acutely aware of yourself, sitting up straighter, smoothing out the wrinkles of your attire, fretting over your hair. “Dinner? Uh, m-me? N-no. Well—”

“Cool. Now you do have plans. Seven sound good?” 

Your expression was awestruck. Well, now, this was certainly a new development. You blinked away your confusion, nodding dumbly. Caught a glimpse of a smirk canting Leon’s lips before he stepped out. Before he tapped your desk with finality, maneuvering out of your office space. 

“Wait! Wait, is … is this a date?” you called to his retreating back.

“Take it however you want,” Leon supplied, a hand raised in farewell. 

You sank into your chair once he disappeared within the maze of cubicle walls. Left at the mercy of your thundering heart and flaring nerves. The goofiest of grins lay claim to your countenance. You felt reinvigorated, taking up your pen. Scrawled away like an enamored fool, scanning through the catalog of your mind for what you would wear.             

<< part 1

#leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #re4 leon x reader #resident evil 4 x reader #re4 x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil fanfic #resident evil x reader #tw: language #cw: reader insert #kindle series

[maryxoliver]

∞

I never go to New York City these days Something about the buildings in Chelsea just kills me Maybe in a month or two, Maybe when things are different for me, Maybe when things are different for you You know all of this shit, just sticks in my head Is there anything different these days?

Chelsea - Counting Crows (Live at Chelsea Studios 1998)

send me a ∞ and i’ll post my favorite lyric from a song that comes up on shuffle!

#TY #honestly my favorite part of this song isn't the lyrics it's the saxophone #it sounds a lot like palisades park which is fascinating to me bc that song came out like 18 years later #so i kind of wonder how long adam had this sax riff in his head #maybe im just projecting lol #anyway thats enough counting crows nerdery for tonight #ask memes

[museofthepyre]

This is making me lose my mind, I need to dig into it. Forgive me if I’m not spot on with this, I’m no biblical scholar, I’m not even religious. I’m just autistic and had a hyperfixation on the Bible. So gather around, we’re having Bible study (CHNT spoilers… sort of).

I’m sure I don’t need to explain the significance of Jesus as a character in the Bible. Son of god, saviour of man, a martyr. What I’m interested in here is Elijah as Peter, and Jedidiah as Judas.

Elijah as Peter… has many implications of what may be to come? If we are to assume this metaphorical connection follows through the rest of the series. Because Peter in the Bible… he was one of the 12 apostles, he was also leader of the first Christian church. But before that, his story was… well, he betrayed Jesus. When Jesus was being arrested by the Romans, accused of being a traitor… Peter disowned Jesus. He said he did not know the traitor (“How could you!? You—you traitor! The ceremony, the congregants… how… I…”). He affirmed that three times. Upon the third time, he looked at Jesus and saw the hurt in his eyes- also a rooster crowed, which was prophesied to mark this betrayal. The look in Jesus’s eyes broke Peter’s heart, he realized what he’d done, ran away, and cried. Bitterly. Remorse and regret and realization of what he did. After the resurrection, he repented, and earned Jesus’s full forgiveness. He went on to lead the first church, and that became his life. His death came in the form of an upside-down crucifiction. His church was blamed for a fire which broke out in Rome, and he was executed- he insisted on being crucified upside down, as he felt unworthy of resembling Jesus in death. Remember this character is ELIJAH VOLKOV in this metaphor. Assuming the betrayal might be… the pyre? Then what comes next? Remorse arc, forgiveness arc? Ohshdhdhgs WHAT DO I MAKE OF THIS???

AND THEN JEDIDIAH AS JUDAS. MY FFFFUCKING GODDDDDD. Judas is another apostle, but he’s mostly known for his betrayal of Jesus- which ultimately lead to Jesus’s death. Judas disclosed his whereabouts to the people who would later crucify him (ordered by Pontius Pilate, at the time Roman governor) for 30 pieces of silver. He identified Jesus and sealed both their fates with a kiss. After the crucifixion- again, realizing what he’d done- Judas was overcome with so much remorse and regret that he hung himself. Thing is, all of this was prophesied/ predestined to be. There are varying opinions on what degree of choice Judas had- if all of this was fate, if it was all predestined, if he was a necessary part of this larger divine plan. The betrayal… I mean I think it’s obvious what that is in this Jedidiah metaphor. But what comes afterwards… ohhhh. Ohhh. My god. I have so many questions. ALSO IN ANOTHER STATEMENT MAYFIELD SAID JEDIDIAH IS MORESO GOD IN A WAY??? AND SYDNEYS STILL JESUS???? I thought Lucille would for sure parallel Pontius Pilate but then HE SAID MOTHER MARY and I’m. What

Adam as Satan requires little analysis… unless. I mean Lucifer was the most beautiful angel in God’s eyes… before he fell from grace.. Something something “Adam looks like Jedidiah but only sometimes” something something “once the most beautiful angel” something something.

Anyways. Thus concludes today’s episode of me rambling I have no clue what to make of any of this. I usually have more concluding thoughts, this time I’m just staring and shaking uncontrolably.

#camp here and there #chnt #camp here & there #ch&t #sydney sargent #sydney o sargent #elijah volkov #jedidiah a a martin #jedidiah martin #tem chnt

[slasherlaurie]

PLS GIVE ME ARTIST X SURVIVOR!FEM!READER THAT BEFRIENDS HER CROWS ON ACCIDENT BY SAVING ONE AFTER ANOTHER SURVIVOR HURTS IT

The reader beats tf out of the other survivor because she's VERY much against animal abuse, so after she patches the crow up and gently plops it in the nest with a little forehead kiss. Then she hunts that other survivor down for sport. But around the artist, she's all shy and sweet (aka bi panic)

Essentially they meet/get close bc of this

I love this woman. I don't know how to function around her. I have also always loved birds and befriended the crows in my neighbourhood, so when she was added to the game I short-circuited.

Thank you.

HIII yes absolutely queen 🫡🫡 i made this so the reader is a newish survivor if thats ok? i just felt it fit a lil bit more for the story but lmk if not and i’ll fix it!

warnings: minor violence, almost implied nsfw but its more just specifying the reader is female, yun-jin kicks a crow, vv long read, my shitty ass english 😭

NOT PROOFREAD/BETA READ

Carmina Mora/The Artist x Crow saviour!Reader

the trial had been going as most do, repair the generators, unhook and heal teammates, try not to be hooked yourself. you were waiting to go unhook Adam, hiding in a particular corner in the realm with the stacked cars (autohaven? you hadn’t been in the entity’s world long enough to remember), when Yun-Jin Lee came sneaking over to you. just as you had decided to sprint over and heal Adam together to get it done faster, a crow appeared seemingly out of nowhere, the small mass of black feathers cawing loudly and alerting the killer of your location. you heard Yun-Jin curse softly in Korean under her breath and then ready herself to sprint away and grab Adam, but not before giving the crow a hard kick to the side.

you were never a violent person, but in this moment you saw red. had it not been for the pained caws of the poor bird, you would’ve immediately taken chase after Yun-Jin to get the crow’s payback with murderous intent. fortunately for the poor thing, you stuck around to help, not even caring if the killer does come to attack you.

you began your approach to the creature slowly, softly trying to communicate you’re not a threat. before you were taken by the entity you had befriended and helped many crows in your neighbourhood, so this shouldn’t be hard.

“hey-shhhh its ok, im here to help you”, you whispered as you took off your jacket to wrap the poor thing in. from the looks of it, the sweet creature wasnt hurt too bad yet rage still flooded your being. its not like it has a choice after all, it just had a job to do. deciding then and there you were going to get revenge for this, you hid for the rest of the trial, making sure that your new friend was safe and comfortable with you all the way back to the campfire.

due to the strange abundance of medkits back at the survivor camp, it was easy for you to get your little pal all fixed up. it was clearly scared at first, but it quickly relaxed, forming a connection with you and feeling you were someone to trust. after a good bit of throat-tearing yelling at Yun-Jin, you took some time to think about where to bring the bird. leading to where you are now.

the eyrie of crows was not a realm you had found yourself dropped into a trial in, yet you had heard the other survivors speak of a monstrous bird woman, turned and twisted by the entity until it was hard to tell where human stopped and ink began. you’re scared, but curious too. you know your friends often exaggerate the horror of the newest arrivals in the fog, so you wonder if The Artist (as she had been assigned by the ones who had faced her most so far) is really as terrifying as you expect.

turns out, you wont have to wait long to find out.

as you finish making your way to what seems to be the main building of the sandy realm, you take a moment to stare in awe at the magnitude of the tower before checking your feathered companion is still ok. climbing over a window to get inside, you find yourself in awe once again, but for a completely different reason.

from the paintings scattered around the bottom floor, to the large messy bookshelves, it is made clear that this place does not belong in the fog. its far too cozy, too welcoming. infact, so welcoming that you dont even notice the tall, nimble figure sneaking up on you.

the only warning you receive of the killer is an angry caw before inky hands wrap around your neck and slam you into the nearest wall. as you wince in pain and surprise, The Artist turns you around to face her.

this… this cannot be the same killer that your fellow survivors had talked about. she’s so gorgeous. too pretty. as her warm, angry breath fans across your face, you feel butterflies rise in your stomach. she almost seems to be carved out of marble, perfect cheekbones and jawline complementing her sharp eyebrows and sharper gaze. as she caws again, as if to ask what you’re doing in her home (or as close as someone can get to a home in the fog), you cant help but notice how soft her lips look too, a sudden desire growing for her to paint your lips black with the ink dripping from hers. her grip tightens, and you remember why youre here.

“i h-have a crow. was injured,” you barely manage to wince out against her tight grip, while softly taking your small buddy from your makeshift carrying sling, “h-here.”

you seem to have made the right decision bringing your companion here, as The Artist’s eyes immediately soften upon reaching your hands. letting go of your neck, she trails her hands down to yours in a way that immediately brings back those pesky butterflies, but you focus on your feathered friend.

cawing affectionately, The Artist softly takes the bird from your hands into hers, making her way upstairs. she doesn’t get too far though, because when your buddy realizes you aren’t following, it immediately starts cawing and flapping its wings in your direction in a panic. confused, The Artist pauses, holding the bird up the stairs and then back down towards you, then repeating as if confused. she coos to the bird quietly and it responds like they’re whispering to each other, and after a bit of back and forth, The Artist turns and gestures for you to follow her up the stairs. you walk behind her slightly, not completely able to keep up with her long, pale legs covered by her swaying dress and- “no. not the time,” you think to yourself, face reddening.

so enamoured and distracted by the presence of The Artist, you hardly notice the large crow’s nest in front of you. however, a sudden inky hand to your torso prevents you from colliding with it, almost making you jump in the best way with how dangerously close her fingertips are to your breasts. removing her hand much too quickly, The Artist beckons another crow over, as if telling it to take care of the new addition to the group. you pat your friend on the head on more time, wishing it luck and promising to see it again, and then its off with the others.

already missing your feathered buddy, you turn to find The Artist staring at you, reading you. her beautiful black eyes are so sharp, yet the anger from just before has faded, replaced with something softer. cawing once, she takes your hand in hers and leads you to the balcony on the same floor. amidst becoming a mess over the feel of her hand wrapping yours so perfectly, so fittingly, you worry for a moment that she’s taking you out here to push you over the edge (though she doesnt seem like she’d do that from what you’ve learned so far). yet, you are soon proven wrong as you round a corner and are met with a painting clearly belonging to the woman who had done all the ones downstairs, the same woman who is now weaving her ink fingers between yours and reaching for the bottom of the canvas with her other hand. she wants your opinion?

“its lovely! youre very skil-“

you’re cut off by a hard shake of her head. The Artist is pointing at something more clearly now: small letters at the bottom left of the canvas, hardly even noticeable if not pointed out. leaning in to read properly, you softly gasp when you realize. its a name. no, its her name. The Artist’s.

Carmina Mora.

“Carmina… that’s so-“ you have so many words to describe, all positive, yet you settle on “-gorgeous.”

turning away so she doesnt see the growing blush on your face (and luckily for Carmina, so you miss her red tinged cheeks at your compliment), you introduce yourself in return and offer your hand out to shake. only for Carmina to take it with both of hers, and hold it to the middle of her chest while nodding her head. a thank you.

“god,” you think to yourself, “im so gay”

the two of you then spend the next few hours or so together, getting to know each other. you get along so well, so naturally, that you wonder to yourself if you were destined to meet outside the fog as well, if you had not been taken. Carmina is so drawn to you, unexpectedly comfortable around you in a way she’s never been with anyone she’s known. you both soak up each other’s presence so much you hardly even notice the sun beginning to set.

you dont want to leave, yet you know the other survivors would endanger themselves and go looking for you if you dont get back before nighttime, and you cant risk that (though you wouldnt mind if Yun-Jin went missing). wishing Carmina goodbye, you begin to walk away slowly, needing to spend as much time with her as possible. however, you dont get very far before pale ink arms are wrapping around your waist and a warm chest is pressing into your back. Carmina coos into your ear, as if asking you to come back soon, and of course, you will. you promise.

relieved to know she’ll see you again, Carmina lets you go and watches you until the fog consumes your figure. you’re a welcome surprise to her, she had never expected to meet someone in her new home that she’d tolerate, let alone enjoy the company of. the other killers were loud and cruel, and the survivors were awful and often obnoxious. except you. you’re different, you understand.

making up her mind, Carmina decides she will send crows for you soon, make sure you visit quickly. you’ve caught her attention, and she has a strange feeling like this was meant to be 🖤

#dbd x reader #carmina mora x reader #the artist x reader #dbd imagines #dbd x you #dbd killers x reader #dead by daylight x reader #to clarify i LOVE yun-jin i just could not imagine any other survivor kicking or harming a crow 😭 #laurie answers

[lady-villain-imagines]

Dead By Daylight Ladies & Cuddling

The Artist

Surrounded by the cawing of crows roosting all around, You were in the middle of the enormous nest in the middle of the Artist’s realm, the Eyrie of Crows. You were not alone, as the Artist herself was laid besides you. She was on her side, carefully brushing and playing with your hair as you were on your back looking up at her. Others would find her shiny black eyes boring into them intimidating, but there was only warmth when it was for you.

Her lack of words never bothered you, she was expressive in everything she did. With the way she was tenderly preening your hair and the soft clicking coming from her throat every now and then while she moved her needle like claws across your skin it was easy to see she had affections for you.

Carmina, as you had found out was her real name, carefully laid her head on your shoulder. Nestling her nose into your neck, soft murmurs came from her throat. You could feel the ink from her mouth and eyes dripping on your skin, leaving thick dark trains in its wake. As her lithe body pushed against your side, she pressed kiss like tar to your collar bone that would surely stain you for days. Not that you minded.

The Huntress

To say Anna was bigger then you would be an understatement. The woman was a mountain, which made it all the better when she pulled you on top of her to cuddle. She didn’t hesitate to hoist you up with her onto the cottage bed and settled you on her. It was serene to be wrapped in her thick, warm arms in such a cold and dreary forest.

A deep hum came rumbling from above you, you felt the vibrations run through her chest . It was a song that struck fear into everyone else, and admittedly it used to do the same for you. But now it only comforted you as Anna ran her hand up and down your spine, her uneven and claw like nails sending shivers through you. It was both soothing and threatening to known those strong hands that held you so close to her body could easily break you, but she chose to just rub them across your back instead. The soft lullaby sent you both into sleep, you truly felt the safest you’d ever been in the arms of a murderess.

The Pig

The couch was uncomfortable at best and it was cold as usual in the meat plant, but the warmth coming from your side made you try to get even closer to the woman next to you. Amanda let you, her arm around your shoulders as you leaned heavily into her with your arm around her torso.

The two of you were just quietly listening to the rock music Amanda had provided, the noises of the machines endlessly pumping in the background. She’d wordlessly taken off her usual robe and put it around you to keep you warm before you’d both gotten comfortable on the dingy couch that was the only remotely comfortable thing in the entire building.

Amanda’s arms were spread across the back of the couch, letting you embed yourself into her side. She was stiff at first, eventually forcing herself into relaxing. No one else could get away with how close they were to the woman behind the Pig mask. She even pulled you into her more when you tried to adjust yourself, clearly not entertaining the idea of you getting up anytime soon. She had you caught in a much more domestic trap than her usual ones.

The Plague

She was… hesitant, when you brought up trying to cuddle. For obvious reasons, physical touch was very dangerous for you considering the sickness that radiates from her. But you were adamant, you wanted to show her you weren’t scared of her (and those fountains were there for a reason, right?)

Adiris relented, but insisted that she always be facing away from you just in case she vomited on accident. It wouldn’t be very romantic to have puke all over you. That just meant you wrapped your own arms around her, holding her to your body. This surprised her, your willingness to be so close to her despite her condition worried her for your well-being but the lonely, selfish part of her after all these years couldn’t deny herself the pleasure of human contact.

Pressing your face against her back, you felt her let out a contented & slightly wheezing sigh as she relaxed against you. Her considerable height made it look a little silly to try to wrap around her as her long legs stretched far past your own. The simple act of it, however, made her feel so loved. Cuddle her more.

The Spirit

Cuddling her was difficult to say the least. Cutting yourself or impaling yourself on shards of glass was not what either of you wanted. Outside of trials, of course. Instead, Rin settled her head in your lap, her hair floating upwards towards you as she looked up at you. Playing with her hair will have her slightly icy exterior melting immediately. Not to mention it’s very fun to mess with the wild, flowing tendrils as they tickled at your face.

A little trial and error and some med kits were used but eventually you reached a way for Rin to cuddle you back. You rested your head on her abdomen, a hand curled against her rib cage. It was one of the only places without many glass shards to rub against you. Her ghostly hand detached from her arm ran over your skin, goosebumps immediately breaking out wherever her freezing fingers touched. She will put her cold hands on the back of your neck to make you jump.

#dead by daylight #dbd #reader insert #slasher x reader #dbd x reader #anna dbd #the artist dbd #the pig dbd #the plague dbd #the spirit dbd #the huntress dbd #amanda young #rin yamaoka #adiris #carmina mora #I wrote this instead of sleeping :) hi #it was rushed and in one weed induced go so sorry if it sucks

[snailor-bee]

You're the Lucky One

GN!Reader / SFW / 1.5k

Summary: Kyojuro is called to help out a fellow demon slayer on a mission. It's easy enough, but somehow you weren't quite what he was expecting. Tags: Kyojuro POV, no pronouns for reader, pre-relationship.

Song: "The Lucky One" - Alison Krauss

Branches blocked out the faint light of the stars, the leaves rustling in the breeze. The moon was absent tonight, making the forest feel that much more dark and foreboding. 

Not that that bothered Kyojuro. He stretched his senses out, bright smile trained on his face as he walked briskly down the path. 

He heard a noise before he saw anything. Kyojuro cocked his head as he turned the bend and he saw you. Ah, ha! So you were close by. 

Hurrying his steps, he was careful not to make a noise. As he got closer, the sound you were making cleared into a song. He couldn't quite make out the words but the melody was crisp and clear. Lovely, in a strange way, though why you were attracting attention in a demon-filled forest was beyond him! 

He'd been hoping to surprise you—it was important to always keep one's senses up!—but somewhere above a crow cawed and you looked over your shoulder, voice halting suddenly. The quiet seemed oppressive in the song’s absence. 

"Oh!" you said, dipping your head in a slight bow. "Rengoku-san, isn't it?" 

"Yes! I was alerted to help out a fellow demon slayer, as I was close by!" he boomed as he came up to you, his voice echoed out into the forest but he figured it didn't matter. If demons were close they would have already heard you singing. "What's your name?" 

"That's very kind of you!" you said with a smile and gave your name before you turned to continue walking. "I was just scouting the area."

Kyojuro began to walk beside you and he hummed. "Very good! I will just be here for assistance if you need it. Otherwise, I will let you take care of things!" 

Normally, lower-ranked demon slayers got nervous at that. They figured his presence meant they didn't have to do any work themselves and could instead sit back to let the Hashira handle things. Not at all what should happen! Kyojuro was adamant that experience was the best teacher. 

But you didn't falter, just nodded your assent, eyes trained on the treeline that booked the path on both sides. 

"Do you like music, Rengoku-san?" you asked suddenly. 

He blinked a few times at the question. "Well enough!" he answered quickly. 

"Do you have any favorites?"

"Not that I know of!" Unbidden, a memory of his mother singing a lullaby came to mind. Warmth filled him and he let the memory linger for just a moment before he pushed it aside.

"Would you like to hear a song that makes me think of you?" 

"Perhaps after the mission is completed!" He didn't know why you were asking such a thing, but it seemed harmless enough. 

Kyojuro sensed something from his right and was just opening his mouth to point it out to you when another bird caw had you turning sharply, eyes intent in the direction he felt a demon lurking. 

Wordlessly you stepped off the path and Kyojuro let you take the lead, ever-present smile growing. How interesting! You'd found it all on your own.

"You're the lucky one, so I've been told." Kyojuro almost jumped with surprise as your voice suddenly rang out, singing again. "As free as the wind blowing down the road." 

If it wasn't for your hand on the hilt of your sword, Kyojuro might have reprimanded you. Still, you seemed focused enough, random singing moment aside. 

You stopped in the middle of a clearing, back straight. He could sense your breathing as it weaved along with the words you sang. Interesting, he hadn't seen someone do that before. "Loved by many, hated by none... " The words drifted before all once, the sound of claws hitting steel rang out. 

The demon had lunged and you met it easily. Just as the demon was jumping back, you followed, swiftly cutting off its head. 

You didn't relax, both hands firmly grasping the hilt of your katana. Good. Kyojuro could feel several more demons rushing towards the two of you. 

"You look at the world with a smiling eye and laugh at the devil as his train goes by."  You were smiling, Kyojuro noticed with a gleam of intrigue. "Give you a song and a one-night stand and you'll be lookin' at a happy man, 'cause you're the lucky one!" At the end of the line, another demon burst out into the clearing and you rushed to meet it. 

The battle was easily won, a swarm of demons descended upon you but you handled them all with ease. They were low-level demons but apparently they had sectioned out this forest amongst themselves, as travelers frequently had to travel down its path in order to trade and barter between the towns on either side of it. 

Kyojuro only had to intervene at the end, when a demon tried to jump you from behind while you were busy beheading another. A roar of flames briefly lit up the space, bringing with it a rush of heat before they faded, leaving only the two of you standing there. 

"That was amazing, Rengoku-san!" you praised, sheathing your katana. 

"I could say the same about you!" Kyojuro returned, just as joyfully as he did the same. "You did great work!" 

You smiled back. "That means a lot, coming from a Hashira. I'm sad though!" Suddenly your expression fell and Kyojuro stared back, suddenly worried you'd gotten injured without him noticing. "I barely got to see your flames," you continued with a pout.

Kyojuro burst out into surprised laughter. "I apologize! I felt it better to eliminate the demon rather than show off." At his teasing tone, you shoved at him playfully as you walked back towards the path. 

"That's not what I meant, Rengoku-san!" 

"What did you mean then?" he asked, suddenly curious. 

You hummed, clasping your hands together. "Ah! Well. It might seem a little silly but it's like a goal of mine to be able to see all the different forms of breathing!" 

"I see!" Kyojuro burst out. "I don't think that's silly at all!" 

Giggling, you shrugged a little self-consciously. "Thank you. A lot of people think it's weird but I just think it's really cool to see the differences and how people take to the techniques. Water breathing looks like dancing, don't you think? And of course Thunder is so fast! I could barely see anything at all but the impact—" You clapped your hands together "—that sudden boom is just so electrifying, wouldn't you say?" 

"HA! I would!!" Kyojuro agreed with enthusiasm, laughing loudly at your pun. 

"And you look just like a flame!" you gushed leaning into Kyojuro's space as he smiled back. "With your hair and eyes, it's really beautiful!" 

Unbidden a flush rose to his cheeks with your easy honesty and compliment. His smile didn't waver though. "Thank you!" 

"Mmhm." 

The conversation petered out as the two of you hit the path. Kyojuro felt a bit flattered but also curious. 

"If I may ask a question?" 

"Of course," you looked up at him. 

"Why was it that you were singing before? Aren't you concerned about demons hearing it?" 

The wind whistled as it rustled your hair and clothes. "Not really," you replied. "I sing all the time. I've found demons think that it means I won't hear them coming and encourages them to charge me. It's actually worked out more in my favor because I don't have to chase after them." You tilted your head before smiling wide. "I think it's important to have any kind of joy we can in this life, you know? Singing makes me happy, so does witnessing new breathing techniques I haven't seen yet. I know these are small things but every day may be our last. I try to cling to the things that lift my spirits." 

"I see!" Kyojuro felt the tips of his fingertips tingling, excitement and joy rushing through him. "I think that's a great way to look at things and I greatly encourage you to continue doing so!" 

You thanked him and Kyojuro watched you from the corner of his eye. This was the first time he had met you but he liked your spirit immensely.

Yelling your name loudly, you jumped but dutifully turned to face him when he stopped walking. "I would love to show you the rest of my flame breathing, if you'd like!" He crossed his arms, looking above your head, not quite wanting to meet your eyes. 

Gasping loudly, you grabbed onto his arm, jumping in place with excitement. "Really?! That would be so great, Rengoku-san!" 

He nodded. "It will depend when we arrive at a Wisteria House but if neither of us are called out on a mission—"

"Then let's go at once!" you interrupted, grabbing at a wrist and tugging him down the path. "There's ten forms isn't there? Oh, I can't wait! You'll show all of them won't you?" 

Laughing, Kyojuro caught up to your pace easily and agreed readily. 

Neither mentioned how long it took for you to finally drop your grip from his wrist and Kyojuro didn't bring up the fact that the skin where you touched felt almost like it burned. 

A thought to explore later, maybe. His smile grew. 

#bee writing #bee writes #demon slayer x reader #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x reader #kmtvillage #i actually wrote this last week for a song that reminded me about Kyojuro and then I saw a post asking about songs and me like >:O #i just wrote something!

[batrachised]

I will never get over Faith's poor rooster Adam...

Almost 20 years since I first read the book and I could still cheerfully do a violence to the aunt on Faith's behalf.

LM Montgomery is so skilled at writing situations where you're gnashing your teeth at the sheer injustice of it! Poor Faith! Poor Adam! I do love the little snippet we get of Adam's perspective:

“Shoo, there,” commanded Mrs. Davis, poking her flounced, changeable-silk parasol at him. Adam shooed. He was a wise rooster and Mrs. Davis had wrung the necks of so many roosters with her own fair hands in the course of her fifty years that an air of the executioner seemed to hang around her. Adam scuttled through the hall as the minister came in.

While i'm on the subject of roosters though, I do have a story. When we were little, my family rescued a chick from a school that had done that weird "have dyed chicks for easter" thing. If you don't know what that is, I have no explanation. All I know is that apparently in some places around Easter they have dyed chicks as presents or decorations (?!), and this little chick was literally green. Since this was obviously not a great situation for the wee ball of fluff, we took it home and raised it while it was still small.

My older sister took the charge. She decided that if this rooster was going to survive, he had to be tough. So, in something straight out of the karate kid, my sister (who went on to work in animal training related things lol) put together a program. She taught him karate (yes, really) by trying to train him to kick on command, along with a series of other (non-harmful) exercises that I don't remember at this point. He'd stand on top of her head. She tried to get him to wade in his water bowl. All in all, I'd say he received an thorough education, at least as thorough as a ten year old girl can bestow.

As the rooster got older, we decided to give him to a relative who lived in the country and needed a rooster. He deserved more space, he needed to go on to live his rooster life, and this worked out well for everyone. More than well - apparently this was one of the best roosters my relative ended up ever having. You know why? He viciously protected those hens lmao. He was the king of his domain, and he made sure everyone knew it. Whenever we visited this relative, we could hear him from across the yard crowing loudly, lengthily, and repeatedly, in a bold sing song of a "COCKLE-DOODLE-DO." He lived a very content life as master of all he could see. After a rough beginning, he rose to the top in something out of every sports movie. He was the Caesar of the coop.

Unfortunately, years later I learned that he had passed. Ah, I thought to myself, even the best of us must go. I was a little taken aback to learn that he'd been killed by a younger rooster. Overthrown, you might say. Well, that's nature, I thought to myself. Cold and brutal in ways we can't understand. It's simply the circle of life, to quote the lion king. While he had an arc straight of the sopranos (he went from the streets to the throne), our rooster was finally at rest, I believed.

Not my sister. My sister maintained fiercely that--and I am in no way exaggerating--that our rooster had been murdered, and murdered in cold blood. By our relative, you might be thinking, given the context of the passage above? No--by the younger rooster. What I chalked up to nature she chalked up to premeditated intent. I'm not going to lie, I found this ridiculous. Cause of death, sure, but murder? She railed on about injustice; I thought to myself, "It's chickens."

Fast forward a decade later. I'm remember this story and laughing about it - hey, remember when you were little and thought our rooster was murdered? - only to get this response from my nearly thirty year old sister:

I then proceeded to learn some facts of the case I hadn't known before.

What I'd heard as a child: a younger rooster killed him. I presumed in a fight or squabble of some sort.

What I learned as an adult: he was surrounded by more than one younger rooster and attacked, in a straight up Ides of March moment.

My comparison to him as a character in the Sopranos - as Julius Caesar himself - was more accurate than anyone could have known. Rise up to the top, only to be defeated by (likely) his own sons, those closest to him. As my sister stated:

#yes his name was chicka chicka boom boom #thanks for the ask!! #i know this got super off topic but I was likE CHILDHOOD DRAMA AROUND ROOSTERS?? more relatable than you'd think

[owladaptive]

On the topic of Mcduck Addams (love the art btw), is Magica De Spell still herself because she's outside of the family? (actolly, is anyone outside of the household “normal” or are there exceptions…) And if she is, would she be acquaintances with the unhinged family or would they be rivals, or perhaps she has a one sided rivalry with Scrooge because he can't take her seriously. Him viewing Magicas murder attempts as fun challenges, there's nothing like having an acid bath in the morning.

Also! Speaking of ducks with an affinity for magic, Morgana Macawber also has a family similar to the whole “Adam's aesthetic”, so you know I'd think the two broods would get along or at least be on the same level. Another duck that came to mind when thinking about the macabre lifestyle was Count Duckula (1988). But I can't imagine him being very thrilled to meet any of the other families due to his nature. He already has enough trouble trying to stop Igor from killing anyone himself, and don't even get him started on his own “family”.

Thank you for the question, and I can answer some of it! I unfortunately do not know nearly enough about the wider realm of Disney Ducks such as Morgana or Duckula to be able to give a fair representation. Perhaps in future, I will. (I've been planning on watching through DW, at least)

But I have answers for Magica!

Dear Aunt Magica is the same, at least from the beginning of her first chronological appearance, as in canon. A delightedly, indulgently ruthless magic user terrorizing a town into giving her everything she asks for with her brother Poe. However when this Scrooge appeared, things transpired differently.

Scroogey was there for the gold of course, but respected their tyranny without bending to their whims. He has a lot of fun in the fight - death or a fate even worse was just a blast of magic away! Inevitably somewhere in the middle of his dodging and ducking and rolling (taking playful swipes at her with the sword hidden in his cane all the while) Magica hits Poe. He's a crow now, poor Magica.

But Poe doesn't get to fly through the window. Scrooge watched and listened to Magica plead and beg for her dear brother to change back already, and was struck by empathy. Scrooge adores his family, higher than he adores the call of adventure or gold or thrill of death, and so extends a hand of understanding to Magica in her time of grief and desperation. With Poe snatched from the air by Scrooge's hand, Magica is bound by a debt of begrudging gratitude, that becomes less begrudging when Scrooge opens to her and promises to do whatever he can to help her figure out how to get her brother back to normal.

It all culminates in Magica making nigh-annual visits to the mansion many years later - a sort of wacky wine-aunt for Donald and Della and, later still, to the boys and Webby too. She's a figure of mischief and darkness, the tragic Poe perched on her shoulder and her maniacal laugh filling the halls before she jets off on another whirlwind into the wide world. The McDucks had taught her how to love again - how to accept her new reality with grace without ever quite giving up on her brother.

And like with Beakley, Magica was influenced by the family-oriented ways displayed before her over a period of many years, and does bring Lena into the world from her shadow just like in canon.

#magica de spell #lena de spell #addams au #ducktales

[orthodoxadventure]

The άνάλαβος (analavos) is the distinctive garment of a monk or a nun tonsured into the highest grade of Orthodox monasticism, the Great Schema, and is adorned with the instruments of the Passion of Christ. It takes its name from the Greek αναλαμβάνω (“to take up”), serving as a constant reminder to the one who wears it that he or she must “take up his cross daily” (Luke 9:23). The ornately-plaited Crosses that cover the analavos, the polystavrion (πολυσταύριον, from πολύς, “many,” and σταυρός, “Cross”) — a name often, though less accurately, also applied to the analavos — reminds the monastic that he or she is “crucified with Christ” (Galatians 2:20).

With regard to each image on the analavos, the rooster represents “the cock [that] crowed” (Matthew 26:74; Mark 14:68 Luke 22:60; John 18:27) after Saint Peter had “denied thrice” His Master and Lord (John 13:38).

The pillar represents the column to which Pilate bound Christ “when he scourged Him” (Mark 15:15) “by Whose stripes we were healed” (Isaiah 53:5; I Peter 2:24).

The wreath garlanding the Cross represents the “crown of thorns” (Matthew 27:29; Mark 15:17; John 19:2) that “the soldiers platted” (John 19:2) and “put upon the head” (Matthew 27:29) of “God our King of old” (Psalm 73:13), Who freed man from having to contend against “thorns and thistles in the sweat of his brow” (Genesis 3:18-19).

The upright post and the traverse beam represent the stipes and the patibulum that formed “the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Galatians 6:14), upon which “all day long He stretched forth His hands unto a disobedient and gainsaying people” (Isaiah 65:2; Romans 10:21).

The four spikes at the center of the Cross and the hammer beneath its base represent the “nails” (John 20:25) and hammer with which “they pierced” (Psalm 21:16; John 19:37) “His hands and His feet” (Luke 24:40). when they “lifted up from the earth” (John 12:32) Him Who “blotted out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us by nailing it to His Cross” (Colossians 2:14).

The base upon which the Cross stands represents “the place, which is called 'Calvary' (Luke 23:33), or 'Golgotha', that is to say, the Place of the Skull” (Matthew 27:33), “where they crucified Him” (John 19:18) Who “wrought salvation in the midst of the earth” (Psalm 73:13).

The skull and crossbones represent “the first man Adam” (I Corinthians 15:45), who by tradition “returned unto the ground” (Genesis 3:19) at this very spot, the reason that this place of execution, “full of dead men’s bones” (Matthew 23:27) became the place where “the last Adam was made a quickening spirit” (I Corinthians 15:45).

The plaque on top of the Cross represents the titulus, the “title” (John 19:19-20), with “the superscription of His accusation” (Mark 15:26), which “Pilate wrote” (John 19:19) “and set up over His head” (Matthew 27:37); however, instead of “Jesus of Nazareth the king of the Jews” (John 19:19), which “was written over Him in letters of Greek, and Latin, and Hebrew” (Luke 23:38), the three languages being an allusion to the Three Hypostases “of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 28:19), this titulus reads, “The King of Glory” (Psalm 23:7-10), “for had they known it they would not have crucified the Lord of glory” (I Corinthians 2:8).

The reed represents the “hyssop” (John 19:29) upon which was put “a sponge full of vinegar” (Mark 15:36), which was then “put to His mouth” (John 19:29) when in His “thirst they gave Him vinegar to drink” (Psalm 68:21), Him of Whom it was said that “all wondered at the gracious words which proceeded out of His mouth” (Luke 4:22).

The lance represents the “spear [that] pierced His side”; “and forthwith came there out blood and water” (John 19:34) from Him Who “took one of Adam's ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof" (Genesis 2:21) and Who “washed us from our sins in His own blood” (Revelation 1:5).

The plaque at the bottom of the Cross represents the suppedaneum of Christ, “His footstool” (Psalm 98:5), “the place where His feet have stood” (Psalm 131:7). It is slanted because, according to one tradition, at the moment when “Jesus cried with a loud voice, and gave up the spirit” (Mark 15:37), He allowed a violent death spasm to convulse His legs, dislodging His footrest in such a manner that one end pointed upwards, indicating that the soul of the penitent thief, Saint Dismas, “the one on His right hand” (Mark 15:27) would be “carried up into Heaven” (Luke 24:51), while the other end, pointed downwards, indicated that the soul of the impenitent thief, Gestas, “the other on His left” (Mark 15:27), would “be thrust down to Hell” (Luke 10:15), showing that all of us, “the evil and the good, the just and the unjust” (Matthew 5:45), “are weighed in the balance” (Ecclesiasticus 21:25) of the Cross of Christ.

The ladder and the pincers beneath the base of the Cross represent the means of deposition by which Saint Joseph of Arimathea, “a rich man” (Matthew 27:57) who “begged for the body of Jesus” (Matthew 27:58; Luke 23:52), “took it down” (Luke 23:53), so that as in body He descended from the Cross, so in soul “He also descended first into the lower parts of the earth” (Ephesians 4:9), “by which also He went and preached unto the spirits in prison” (I Peter 3:19).

Through these instruments, “the Cross of Christ” (I Corinthians 1:17: Galatians 6:12; Philippians 3:18) became the “Tree of Life” (Genesis 2:9; 3:22, 24; Proverbs 3:18, 11:30; 13:12; 15:4; Revelation 2:7; 22:2,14), by which the Lord Jesus reified His words that, “I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live, and whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall never die” (John 11:25-26).

[source]

#Christianity #Orthodox Christianity #Monasticism #Great Schema #Orthodoxy

[ploo-toe]

The Crow and The Mourning Dove: CH 2

SCP-049 x SCP!Reader

Series tags/warnings(18+): fem!reader, slowburn, (eventual)smut, horror, gore/violence, death, unethical experiments, dark, mentions of past trauma, happy ending

Chapter Summary: “The Chem. Department has a new lavender sedative mix they want to test out, so we’re moving it to a separate testing chamber.  During that time, maintenance will come in for a routine inspection of all the locking mechanisms in 049’s cell.  You’re there to ensure everything runs smoothly.”

 ___________________________________________

Almost a month had gone by, and while 049’s insight had been helpful, progress with 9528 was slow.  The scp was wary; reluctant to let its guard down.  Though, on rare occasion, it would be comfortable enough to drop its facade, even if only for a brief moment.

While Y/n didn’t completely trust Dr.Leeward, she could recognize that he was somewhat of an oddity.  He deviated from the other foundation staff.  Where others were callous and barbaric,  he was softened.  He couldn’t deny his compassionate nature.  It’s why he didn’t push when she was unwilling to share certain details, encouraging her to answer only what she felt comfortable with.  Even if deep down, Y/n knew that he still only thought of her as a thing. Not a she, but an it.  Still, he was better than most.

“Ok, so we went over the things you like.  What about dislikes?  Anything that upsets or annoys you, possibly even things that you’re afraid of?”  Dr.Leeward sat across from her, encouraging her to go at her own pace. It was refreshing, his patience.

“...I’m not overly fond of fire.”  

“Fire?”  It was clearly an answer he wasn’t expecting.  A centuries old being, responsible for the slaughter of hundreds, if not thousands, afraid of fire?

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“May I ask why?”

While there were some things Y/n was willing to disclose, others were deemed far too personal.

“There was an incident in the past that led to a certain… avoir les pétoches… aversion.”  Y/n muttered under her breath, trying to find the words.  While she was fluent enough in the King’s English, she found its expressiveness quite limiting.

“I see…” Leeward spoke as he finished up his notes “Well I’ll leave it at that for today, and we’ll pick up again next week.  Is there anything you want to speak of before the end of the session?”

“No Doctor, that will be all.”

He nodded, gathering his things and exiting the cell.

Y/n remained at the table, simply staring ahead at nothing.  To the camera’s she appeared almost bored.  But for a brief moment, she was back there.  She could see the flames surrounding her, feel them eating away at her skin. She blinked it away as quickly as it had come.  She got up slowly, making her way over to her bed and getting as comfortable as it allowed.  Perhaps some rest would do her good.

Leeward made his way down the hall towards his office, nodding to a group of guards on his way, before The Director flagged him down.

“We’ve really got to stop meeting like this, Adam.”  Director Novak joked. Tell me about it. Leeward bit his tongue.  “I need you to assist in the movement of SCP-049 today.”  Movement?

“Why are we moving 049?”  He racked his brain, trying to think of whatever reason there might be for such a high clearance task.

“The Chem. Department has a new lavender sedative mix they want to test out, so we’re moving it to a separate testing chamber.  During that time, maintenance will come in for a routine inspection of all the locking mechanisms in 049’s cell.  You’re there to ensure everything runs smoothly.”  Novak’s cold stare bore holes into Leeward’s skull.  He wanted Leeward there to keep 049 docile.  Meeting the director's gaze, it was clear as day.  He knew the risks that came with moving 049, he just didn't care.  Leeward swallowed down the lump in his throat, knowing it was better not to question Novak’s judgment, and followed him to 049’s containment cell.  

Leeward went into the cell first, told by the director that he was to obtain 049’s full cooperation.

“Hello 049.”

“Doctor, I was unaware that we had any meetings today.”  049 stood cordially, halting its previous task of writing in its journal.

“No, we don’t, I’m here sent by the director to prepare you for testing.  He asked that I come in first to make sure you’re cooperative.”  Leeward spoke with thought out words, careful not to provoke the scp.

“Ah, yes.  I have my work as you have yours.  I am willing to see through your tests.”

He was relieved that 049 seemed to be in a good mood today. The last thing he wanted was for this to go poorly.

Leeward signaled for the guards to come in, stepping back as they attached its restraints.  Two held onto its chains, pulling it forward, while the remaining 4 had their rifles fixed on it.  They slowly began making their way out of the cell, leading it down the hall.  Director Novak stood stiffly, staring down 049 with a shark-like gaze.  The teams movements were slow and calculated. While the facility guards may have been lacking in certain social aspects, they knew the tactical precision necessary, and the weight any mistakes would carry.

They had just barely made it to the first turn before they heard it, down the hall behind them.

A gut wrenching scream bounced off the walls, laced with pure terror.  What the hell was that!?

049 halted, posture stiff and eyes wide.  

“...Y/n?”

#scp 049 x reader #scp049xreader #the crow and the mourning dove #scp 049 #scp 049 x scp reader #scp containment breach #scp foundation #scp049 #scp 049 x oc #throwing it into the deep end now #hope yall are ready for next chapter

[ninja-muse]

As you might know if you saw my review the other day, my December felt very slumpy even though I read a lot of good books. I suspect this is because of book hangovers and working a busy Christmas retail season. (I also didn't write much because I kept coming home too wiped to think.)

But it was a good month! I managed to get to a couple new releases that I really wanted to, and I knocked a lot of books off my physical TBR because none of my ARCs looking interesting. I did have a DNF again, though, of a book that I was really hoping would be great. Isn't that always the way?

I also had two rereads! One because sometimes when you're at a loss to read, you pick up Pratchett, and one because I'd promised myself I'd get to it this year and dash it, I was going to! Weirdos of the Universe, Unite! was one of the most seminal books of my childhood, and it wasn't until I reread it that I realized just how much it was. I saw a lot of my personal attitude to life in Maddy, it was probably my first true urban fantasy even though there's a whole act on a spaceship, Baba Yaga is there as a very cranky but practical sort of witch…

As for my book haul, I just want to say that it was Christmas and I didn't actually buy anything? My parents came through with some really oddball picks, as I'd expected, my sister gifted me one of her favourite reads of the year, and friends helped feed my T. Kingfisher addiction. (More on that in my yearly wrap-up.)

But the book I'm most excited to have gotten is Hogfather, and not because of the pretty cover though that's a bonus. It is, in fact, the most astounding misprint I've ever seen and I couldn't pass up a chance at a free copy. I mean, how many times do you find a beloved book in which the entire thing is bound backwards?! Thank goodness the publisher didn't want it back, is all I'm saying.

And that's probably about it! I have no idea what book I'm going to start 2024 with, because I sort of read 200+ pages of Persepolis Rising last night so I could knock it off my list and now I'm recovering from the binge.

And now without further ado, in order of enjoyment…

A Power Unbound - Freya Marske

Jack, Alan, and their friends must find a hidden artifact and foil a plot. This would go better if Jack and Alan got along.

8/10

🏳️‍🌈 main characters (gay, bi man), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (gay, bi woman, lesbian, genderfluid) 🏳️‍🌈 author

All the Hidden Paths - Foz Meadows

Velasin and Caethari are still feeling out their relationship when they’re summoned to the capital and almost immediately find themselves targeted again..

7.5/10

🏳️‍🌈 main characters (mlm), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (mlm), mute secondary character, cast of colour, 🏳️‍🌈 author warning: anxiety, aftermath of trauma, dubious consent

Last Chance to See - Douglas Adams with Mark Carwadine

A bumbling science fiction author travels the world in search of endangered animals.

7/10

Illuminations - T. Kingfisher

Rosa wants to help her artist-magician family, but instead she accidentally releases a creature bent on destroying them!

8/10

Lovecraft Country - Matt Ruff

Two Chicago families in the 1950s become caught up in a world of cults, ghosts, monsters, and magical danger. Fortunately, they’ve had lots of practice at mistrusting white folks.

7.5/10

primarily Black cast

warning: depicts Jim Crow-era racism, including slurs; also abusive family dynamics

Persepolis Rising - James S.A. Corey

Thirty years on, the system has achieved a new normal. So of course one of the colony planets decides it’s time to shake things up.

7.5/10

very racially diverse cast

Remarkably Bright Creatures - Shelby Van Pelt

A cleaner at an aquarium mourns her losses. A young California man seeks his absentee father. The resident octopus tries to bring them together.

7.5/10

Jamaican secondary character, Korean-American secondary character

Ragnarok - A.S. Byatt

A child in wartime discovers Norse mythology, and the ways myths and the world reflect each other.

7.5/10

warning: animal cruelty and injury

While Idaho Slept - J. Reuben Appelman

Four students are murdered in a single night, and what came before and after.

7/10

warning: violent murders

Monstress, Volume 3 - Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda (illustrator)

Maika finds temporary refuge from the people chasing her, but the local leaders want a favour in return.

7/10

one-armed protagonist, cast of colour, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (sapphic), Taiwanese-American author and Japanese-American illustrator

Reread

Weirdos of the Universe, Unite! - Pamela F. Service

Mandy and Owen get assigned a mythology paper, but then the characters they pick start coming to life and insisting they have a great purpose.

Black secondary character, Indigenous secondary character, Chinese secondary character

warning: somewhat lazy depictions of Indigenous and Chinese people

The Unadulterated Cat - Terry Pratchett with Gray Jolliffe (illustrator)

A humourous celebration of all things cat.

DNF

The Undetectables - Courtney Smyth

Someone’s committing Occult murders and a crack team of Occult investigators has been called in. Or, they’re totally going to be the crack team someday, at least.

main character with fibromyalgia, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (lesbian), fat secondary character, Chinese-British secondary character, 🏳️‍🌈 author

Currently reading:

Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century - Richard Taruskin A history of early written European music, in its social and political contexts.

The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle Victorian detective stories

major disabled character

warning: racism, colonialism

Stats

Monthly total: 11+1 Yearly total: 128/140 Queer books: 2 Authors of colour: 1 Books by women: 6 Authors outside the binary: 0 Canadian authors: 0 Off the TBR shelves: 7 Rereads: 2 Books hauled: 8 ARCs acquired: 2 ARCs unhauled: 2 DNFs: 1

January February March April May June July August September October November

#books #book reviews #reading wrap-ups #stacks of books #read in 2023 #book recommendations #rec lists #my photos