#wily numbers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tflaw · 2 years

Text

— PUSSY P♡WER.

They only have one goal before you leave Sumeru for another land, and that is to satiate their fantasies about your cunt.

꒰ა ❤︎ ໒꒱ . . . afab!reader. tease!reader. traveler!reader not pertaining to the twins in game. i got a biiit carried away with cyno’s part (i mean, it’s cyno my number one slut). nonetheless, please enjoy!

CYNO + lots of cum, undertones of perv!cyno, unprotected.

cyno is unfamiliar with defeat in all aspects of life. in sumeru, everyone with ears and eyes knows that whatever the general mahamatra wants, the general mahamatra gets. or in this case, you: the traveler from another land. that being said, none could gauge his discontent upon having his persuasions denied every time.

“i can give you anything: money, power, influence. just name it.” his lilt unmasked his dwindling patience. after all, as general mahamatra, it is not a walk in the park to leave his base for a journey to the rainforest. coming home defeated each time calls for desperate measures indeed.

such a wily thing you are, adroit in pushing back after cultivating make-believe for cyno to relish in. it’s always hidden in your smile, followed by an innocent “general, you wish to fuck me that badly?”

to which, he’d answer, “yes. hard and preferably in my bed. but as you are now, stubborn and unbent, say yes and i wouldn’t mind anywhere.”

he awaits the laugh that is certain to follow, a sound that peels off at his sanity, all while tempting his cock to spring out of its restraints, but none echoed. instead, he finds himself inside an inn, with your naked body and wet cunt spread out in the creaky bed. at long fucking last.

sumeru is home to breathtaking panoramas. but in cyno’s opinion, no vista could ever vie with how your arousal coats the plumped lips of your cunt, waiting to be fucked hard. or how gorgeous you look in all fours, back smoothly curving to present yourself to him.

and when he finally, finally pops his cock into your pulsing walls, his breath hitches at the sensation. proving the fantasies he has painted about you all while maintaining the surprise, your cunt is indeed warm, wet, and perfect. it’s loud, too— producing a sucking noise every time cyno picks up his pace, burying himself in you until the white ring around his girth dribbles down his heavy balls.

you clamp around him and his eyes roll back to his skull. his cocktip kisses your spot and he drools at the feeling. the cycle of pulling and pushing and endless huff of jagged breathing tips him over the edge. until he’s coming loads straight into your insides. cyno overstimulates himself until his shoulders begin to jitter, pistoling his rawed-out cock to give you every drop of his thick and hot cum. in hopes that you’ll never forget what it feels like.

AL-HAITHAM + might be ooc, spare me this man is hard to write. undertones of yandere. big balled and big brained al-haitham. you walk in on him touching himself.

as someone in possession of knowledge that remains shrouded in most people’s cognizance, al-haitham has mastered the art of deceit easier than anyone with a functioning brain in sumeru. deceit that he equips as white lies, all in order to fall in your good graces. or if he is to be candid, to get under your pants.

he particularly roisters in hearing about your curiosities merely to obscure his answers and lead you astray from what you seek. a calculated effort that will establish the day you’d come for his help again, therefore nailing your attention to him and no one else. and as expected from an outlander strange to the land of dendro, you seem oblivious to al-haitham’s advances.

which he finds remarkably endearing, for if there exists an image that could shake his carnal desires awake, it is the manner of how you look at him: doe-eyed, awaiting the answers to your inquiries to slip past his lips.

you are a tight knot in his chest, pressing down on his stomach and between his legs. the product of his salacity, you take away any crumbs of reason and logic from him each night as he pumps himself with big hands. until there are drops of cum on his floor, and his cock falls limp to his stomach once he lays back panting on his bed.

that is until one particular day when his lust has overcome all rational thoughts. al-haitham ends up behind crates in an abandoned room in port ormos, sweating bullets while fucking himself greedily. it was meant to be a quick release, propelled by his growing need to fuck you. never had he foreseen that you’d be following his trail, therefore catching him abusing his cock while panting your name.

“i… allow me to explain,” he mutters in haste, grappling for the waistband of his breaches to hide his swelling cock. “it’s not… i have not any intentions—”

“do you need my help?” you offer. he blinks at you, and you blink back innocently. “we cannot leave you in that painful state, can we?”

no, you can’t. but al-haitham, even after the first time he came inside you, has not found the satisfaction he quests after. what was supposed to be a quick fuck ended up with him fucking you in a few different positions inside the dim room. nevermind the cobwebs or the dust, al-haitham has only one thing in mind, and that is to pump you full with cum it’s the only thing you’d be thinking about once you depart from sumeru.

TIGHNARI + perv!tighnari. oral sex (reader receiving). voyeurism.

being a scholar equates to having the freedom of committing deeds that would’ve been questionable in someone else’s eyes. and in his lifetime, tighnari surely has done quite a few things that are considered eccentric from a standpoint of a bystander. he is not apologetic, not one bit. after all, nothing is prohibited for the sake of knowledge.

however, this particular curiosity rallied by the arrival of a certain outlander has the young scholar pondering about what’s considered moral and not. and yet his nature’s heightened instincts galloped faster than his ability to provide himself an answer.

it’s your scent, tighnari thinks. the overwhelming whiff of something addictive. something that he’d search for in the morning, or follow in the middle of the night. your scent provides him a certain heat, which travels from his nape down his spine. and with that scent, tighnari learns how to pleasure himself again. yet, it barely filled the desire seeping in his bones whenever you’d look his way or touch his skin accidentally.

he has been consumed by the thought before he could formalize a way to free himself from it: tighnari wants to eat your cunt and fuck you right after. all this he has kept to himself for weeks until one fateful night.

he knows that your body has been shaped to the point of perfection, he knows it. but nothing prepared him to see you with no clothes while you pistol two fingers in your cunt with so much enthusiasm. and perhaps he has moved from where he stands gelid or breathed a little too loud from where he hides, for the next thing he knows, your eyes are on his.

tighnari counts the seconds, telling himself that once it reaches five, you’d be covering yourself in mortification. imagine his surprise when you widen your legs and rub your clit while tugging at your nipple.

he wants to break here and there. take his cock out and shoot a fat load to the ground. what he ended up doing was kneeling before you in silent agreement. his lips buzz against your cunt as he enthusiastically feasts between your legs. he loves it, so much that he feels his cock leaking with every suck and lick of his tongue. when you arch your back and cried out into the night, tighnari’s balls tighten. even without touching himself, thick globules squirt from his throbbing slit. he realizes, then: your scent is unique because it comes from between your legs. and that night, tighnari drowned in it.

💭 reblogs && feedback appreciated !

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #cyno smut #cyno x reader #al haitham smut #al haitham x reader #tighnari smut #tighnari x reader

8K notes · View notes

hiraeth-sonder · 13 days

Text

Delusive Masks - Nasu

Yan! Tamamo no Mae x Reader

Old foxes aren't the best servants, they're wily and complex, and most of all, possessive

TW: Mentions of violence in the form of burning, general toxic manipulative behaviour, not really proof read

//The brainrot hit so bad that I wrote a bad fever dream. A whole bunch of liberties taken with the way being an onmyoji works and with characters as per usual. Poem is from 陽成院歌合, topic of 夏虫の恋 and is number 06 of the whole collection

あふことを, いつともしらぬ

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

To be a good person is not difficult, to be a good onmyoji perhaps less so. For many people, merely getting the skill and natural ability to qualify as one is already a kind of privilege, it taints the way they view themselves, creating grandiose splendours that they can transcend beyond the mortal principles. Yet when one becomes powerful enough to summon shikigami beyond weak spirits imbued into paper dolls, it gets to their head. They suddenly, foolishly believe themselves capable of nothing short of miracles. How fast they fall, turning themselves into cruel masters, bidding their servants to acts no better than the very yokai they seek to exorcise, kicking upon their shikigami to which they had entered that sacred contract.

You are grateful for many things in life, the first that you had good parents that supported your wishes, the second that you could become a practising onmyoji, and the third being your master’s consistent and persistent hammering of humility and altruism. No lesser or greater than any being that walks upon this world, whether human or spirit, your duty was to protect the innocent and excise the guilty. Of course, he had worded it much more eloquently than such, but the motive was still present in his orotund words.

Your shikigami are as equally deserving of respect as you are, unconditional kindness could very often make the difference between an evil spirit and a good one. You have stuck by such truths for as long as you have started, even when the only spirits under your command were Ubume and Zashiki Warashi. It became a promise of kinds, that you would always do right by them so long as they showed the same sentiment in return. Eventually, you ended up with quite a few of them, a good entourage of them you knew you could trust. Yet, it was rather difficult for people to take you seriously without certifiably powerful spirits, or perhaps it was more accurate to say that there was a certain gap between the perceived disciple of the great Abe no Seimei, and the reality that you were.

There was some part of you that did resent that expectation, partly that others should have no right to comment on your ability solely on your patronage, and partly because it felt too close to home. Of course you knew it was shameful to be so powerless when you study under one of the best practitioners, it is only natural you did.

The smell of incense fills your nose as your eyes adjust to the dim room, a talisman before you laying on the wooden floor. With a brush in hand, dipped in ink and poised for use, you calm your pounding heart. You have already summoned a few shikigami before, yet at this very moment, you could feel nothing but inexplicable foreboding. It made no sense, with your current living quarters more than protected by both your and your shikigamis’ efforts, yet you could not merely shake off the tenseness in your joints and the roiling in your stomach.

It hurts, everything still hurts. Your hands from all the preparation, your knees from kneeling on such hard floors, your head from everything that has been and shall be. It is as though your body only knows to bear suffering, pain from which is borne from being mortal, pain borne of the pure action of breathing.

Still, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. Picking up your brush in a ramrod perfect posture, the incantation so familiar to your lips spill out as ink stains the talisman. Your voice starts soft, barely a whisper in the wind and as your hand scrawls and scrawls with a fervour not quite known to human consciousness, it rises until the only sound in your ear is your very own words.

The moment your brush lifts off the paper and the ink settles within, placed within the circle, it resonates and glows, bursting with light and into flame as it burns into a brilliant blaze. It threatens to engulf the summoning room, grazing at the ceiling as even the fire from your candles are absorbed into such a violent inferno. You can feel the heat, practically licking your skin and singeing the ends of your coat, sweat beading at your brow as you shield your eyes from the bright display.

Even when the flames dim, what is before your eyes is merely the shaping of the firestorm into nine distinct tails, a vulpine silhouette that eventually reveals a tall figure, draped in silks and brocades. With an elaborate fox-like mask hiding the top half of his face, this spirit which presented himself as both court official and decadent noble snapped open his fan to further hide his jade white visage. Among the cool night, all you could feel was the radiating heat from his form, even if he retracted his flames, it was as if there was nothing beyond him and his fire.

The high wooden geta clacks against the wooden floorboards, elegant footfalls approaching you ever closer as he steps out of the circle. He makes no effort to lower himself to your level, fervid eyes burning behind the mask as he tips his fan beneath your chin and lifts it. The spirit takes a gander at your appearance, scrutinising your every feature with an intensity far beyond mild interest.

“This place has experienced great change since I’ve last been here,” The old fox’s lips curl into a smile, the peek of sharp canines peeking from behind. His voice is sultry, a minacious bite to his words, “Onmyoji, we finally finally meet.”

No matter this first introduction, dealing with this great spirit will be much more complicated than any you have ever met. A venerable kitsune in which vagary destruction lay right at the snap of his fingers, no matter what kind of fate he deems worthy for your mortal self, it is exactly because you are mortal that you should meet this trial.

Bowing, you raise your clasped hands in front of you and dip until you feel your back screech for mercy, “Tamamo no mae-sama, it is an honour to meet you.”

“Do take care of me, little lady,” He croons and a shiver runs through your bones, no matter how gentle his words were.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

なつむしの, おもひはかぎり

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

“Master, I did not think you would arrive so quickly.”

Your hands are steady as you tip the lacquered teapot, fragrant tea pouring in a steady stream from its slender spout. The dark liquid a blend you rarely take out other than to entertain your master, there is a certain trepidation that comes with such an act, one you are not sure when will finally leave you. The joints of your fingers ache, throbbing even as you lay at rest.

“It is so wrong for me to worry for you?” He raises a brow, azure eyes regarding you with some placid gleam.

Despite your admittedly out of place nerves, your master has done nothing to warrant such, that in spite of his graceful and aloof poise, Seimei may likely be one of the kindest people you have ever met. You understand that a person can in no way be entirely benevolent nor evil, for that is what makes a sentient being sentient, but there is merely something about him that brings forward ease within a person.

You only shake your head, an abashed quirk tugging at your lips. Watching him take a sip from his cup, your mind drifts back to the message you had sent. A letter that was hastily scrawled and messy beyond reason, the paper carried the distinct stench of smoke and ash, it was a moment of panic now that you could look upon the incident with a much clearer head. The minute you had situated the old yokai in conditions appeasable to his own tastes, you remember sprinting back to your room, sweat clinging to your skin and staining the paper as you wrote, informing your master what had just occurred and asking for his guidance.

“Of course not, I just thought you would have taken more time to get here,” You hum, your voice lowered and sheepish. “Were you not at the capital when my letter arrived?”

Your master only nods, “Your words were so fearful, I thought you had come across a great trouble.”

He takes a moment to partake from his drink once more, a silence falling upon the sun-lit room as birds chirp in the nearby trees and the sound of your shikigami going about their lives ring from the distance. You rest your eyes upon his form, noting the seeming flawlessness of his presence. Sharper features that hinted at some otherworldly grace, just the most minute sign found in the form of the slight furrow of his brow revealed the distress that plagued him. Then, his long lashes flutter open, and your master merely seems to smile, relief all but seeping from his eyes.

“I am glad you are well.”

Averting your gaze, you thank him under your breath as heat flushes at the tips of your ears, not quite certain whether such bashfulness stems from troubling him or emotions else explained.

You can only move the conversation of topic away from that moment, putting on a facade of ease, “I thought you would have more insight about him.”

The expression on his face shifts ever so slightly, a sudden hardness in his eyes as he grips the teacup just the little tighter.

“He…has experienced a great number of losses due to both divine and human action,” He manages to breathe out, the sound almost all but serene if not for the lengthy pause between his words. Your master inhales, as though to continue his words, yet he only sighs, “I am afraid that is as much as I can disclose for now, it is not my place to tell what he does not wish to be revealed.”

Just as you think to pry just a little further, Hana’s voice echoes from beyond the closed doors, asking for your presence. There is a concern tinging her words, and judging by the pattering of rushed footsteps, this was a matter that required your immediate and utmost earnest attention.

“Master, I must apologise but…” Your eyes glance between him and the door, chest tightening ever so slightly as blood rushes through your veins.

Seimei merely shakes his head, an assuaging expression on his face as he waves you off, “Do not worry about me, go ahead.”

Nodding, you rise as quickly as possible, rushing off as you are swiftly carted off to the issue. The white haired man remains in his seated position, taking in the scent of his tea as he closes his eyes. He hears the silence of the wind, with neither bird song nor liveliness of existence. Seimei finishes the rest of his tea, herbal and heady fragrance greeting his senses for the last time before he places it down alongside your abandoned cup.

He takes a breath, not bothering to open his eyes as he speaks, “Uncle, I know you are there.”

From beyond the door and announcing his entrance through soft clicks, a masked man deigns to show his face as he lowers his fan. With his lips almost permanently lifted in mirth, the scarlet markings that painted his mask aided with the unease that your master suddenly feels creeping onto his spine. He is unfamiliar with this sensation, especially from the man before him.

“Seimei, its been a long time,” The old fox croons, insouciant tinge to his voice.

Without missing a beat, your master finds a new urgency within him, “What are your intentions with my disciple?”

“We have yet to see each other after so long and this is your first question for me?” Tamamo hums, an unexplainable expression on his jade white face. His fan taps against his jaw in a rhythmic manner, voice much more playful and recondite than Seimei would have liked, “She called out and I responded, nothing more, nothing less.”

“If you have any malintention upon her, I fear I may have to take action.”

Not quite a threat, for even he is unable to deny their relationship, but more so a warning. This tension between the two of them has an unspoken depth, one that had existed long before this clandestine reunion, and with Seimei’s admittedly almost obvious concern for your wellbeing, it only seems to sour so.

The old fox smiles, and the younger finds that he does not enjoy the way those golden eyes seem to shine with burning regard from beyond the mask. Tamamo only muses, yet despite the airy nature of his voice, behind his lilt was a zealous avariciousness, “I promise you, no harm shall befall her so long as I am by her side.”

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

なくやあるらん

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

For all that the froglets incident was worth, a situation that had been more so confusing and hysterical for the regional townspeople than any life-threatening catastrophe as you had been led to believe, it was only a mild inconvenience. A few dozen little frogs dressed to appear as great yokais were merely wandering around and acting as if they were the spirits themselves, of course they had also been imbued with some kind of ability that allowed them to recreate such acts, but it was still not some matter that would raze the whole of Heian-Kyo.

Still, that had not meant you expected to return to your abode with said froglets nipping at your heels ready to make themselves useful.

“Master…” At a loss for words, Momo could only cock her head at the image before her.

Rather than being seated at your desk pouring over documents, you were instead making yourself quite busy with some leisurely reading while the froglets dedicate themselves to stacking your books in an order only they seemed to know.

“It’s okay, they are not causing any issue,” You smile, an amused huff escaping your nose when your eyes drift to Susabi Frog balancing on top of Ichimokuren Frog as it just barely pushes a star chart into place, “I am just keeping them busy.”

Turning your attention back to Momo, you place down your book as you roll your shoulders back, the vertebrae in your spine not quite as sore. “Did you have something for me to look at?”

“Ubume asked whether you wanted to join us for lunch or have us eat with you.” Her voice is slightly hesitant, just one step away from wavering.

It feels like instinct at this point, you rest your head upon your palm and squeeze your eyes in delight. If you had to be honest, you did quite miss being able to have meals with your shikigamis, always some lively affair and certainly occuring far too sparsely for your liking.

“It has been some time since we all sat down together and ate, has it not?”

She nods her head, a hopeful expression on her face as her eyes widen in mock innocence, “Mhm! So will you?”

You laugh, shaking your head as you get up and dust your clothes. An excitement fills her as the little blooms in her hair burst open, grabbing your arm and all but dragging you out. Turning a glance to the froglets, you wave them over and they come scampering to your side at the first notice, almost all too excited to follow along. They clamour in the occasional croak or ribbit, asking about this and that. More akin to children, you wonder when that sentiment started.

By the time you arrive in your courtyard, it is all but a wonderfully teeming gathering, noise filling your ears in a manner that only served to coax your heart from its tight cage. Seeing them like this, you are happy that you get to have such a sight, living free from suffering and safe, that was the most important point, that they were safe.

“I see you all are in good spirits,” You hum, an announcement that is swiftly followed by a symphony of ‘Master’s’.

Some of the younger shikigami immediately leap from their seats to your side, to which you only greet them with on overfond smile and a pat on the head. Those busy with serving food or handing out cutlery likewise greet you, not quite able to pull themselves away from their tasks but still sending a smile or a wave. Momo is quick to join everyone else, flitting between chatting and aiding. Ootengu had busied himself with scooping soup while Hana had been floating around ensuring everyone had some kind of meal, leaving one person notably uninvolved.

“Little lady,” The old yokai calls for you, resting his head on his palm as a smile plays on his lips. Sitting beneath the plum blossom tree, he almost looks like the subject of a great painting under falling petals and soft sunlight. Just the view of such makes you almost afraid to approach him, yet still you do so. You are unable to tell exactly whether his levity is real, but you can only assume so by his leisurely tone, “Have the froglets been helping you?”

Glancing at the frogs now being babied by the rest of your shikigami, a notion you did not think they would take up so fast, you only laugh, “They are very earnest, thank you.”

Silence falls upon the two of you and for a moment, it truly does feel that all is right in the world. There is little discomfort in your body, joints no longer cracking at every minute action nor head pounding at every little stimulus that dared to exist. The smell of sweet flowers and delightful aroma of proper food fills the air, and you yearn for nothing more than these days to continue on.

Those froglets, troublesome at first though they may, had ended up being a kind of blessing. For ever since their attempted marauding, you have had little, if any issues that required your action. You spend your days reading and writing, responding to correspondence and finally able to focus on your studies.

It is while reminiscing that Tamamo’s silvery words reach your ears, pleasant and coaxing.

“These few weeks have been rather peaceful, don’t you think?” He tilts his head to the side, meeting your gaze in a single move.

You squeeze your eyes again, a soft sigh escaping you as a smile tugs at your lips, “It has, I can finally get to some marriage proposals I had apparently recieved.”

For a moment, just the slightest second late, you thought the old fox’s expression darkened. Yet just as quickly as it came, it left, and he simply continues on. His eagerness almost resembles that of those older ladies, that crooning voice asking for more and more, ready to give advice you never thought you would need, older yokais surely were no different than mortals.

“Oh? And who is the lucky fellow?” His nails, scarlet and far longer than you remember, clasp around his fan.

“Just another onmyoji, he isn’t from the big name clans that sent their pathetic excuse they call letters,” You sigh, then hold your hands up in clarification, as though to correct yourself from your perceived distate, “Which is good, less likely to be some bigoted oaf.”

Tamamo merely hums, snapping open his fan to hide the bottom of his face, yet there was an odd wry tinge to his words, “How intriguing, our little lady seems to be quite popular to attract even onmyojis from the big clans.”

“Don’t flatter me, they just want to find someone they can continue their bloodlines with.”

Rolling your eyes, an acerbic grin appears on your face as you take a drink from the teacup one of the froglets brought over. Just like those old ladies, he places a hand on your shoulder and with an assuaging tone, a sense of warm reassurance is poured into your being.

“Well, you won’t have to worry. I’m certain you will have no trouble.”

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

またまたも, みをぞすてつる

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Kiyohara Genjirou, a practicing onmyoji that had sought you out not only for his pursuit of the craft but admiration as well. So he cited in his first correspondence, and so you would like to believe.

As he wrote to you, you found him an eloquent and diligent man. Genjirou, though not hailing from a noble family nor considered talented enough to join a major clan, wandered through the country aiding when he could. All he had were paper dolls and simple talisman, yet that was all he needed. He had heard tales from those whose qualms you have solved, and had grown curious of your being. It was natural, yet this natural curiosity had grown to longing when he caught a glimpse of you in the city.

The image he described of you had seem otherworldly when you first read it, donned in simple robes and merely another face among the crowd, his eyes had no choice but to follow along your form, entirely unable to pull away from you. As if sent down from the high heavens, even the slightest whisper of your voice had made him understand why men should turn to religion.

You thought of him less fondly, perhaps not an infatuation such as his but an interest nonetheless. He had only sent two letters, the first that had been introductory and more similar to polite courtesy, the second much more personal and akin to courting. Still, you had been touched by his words, further still when you read the last portion. He would make the journey to your estate, to meet you and to perhaps, if you would allow him the chance to, to court you.

It was by no means a demand, but rather a suggestion. Genjirou had gone so far as to write that should you not find him appealing in any manner, that should you deem him overstepping, you were in every right to have him kicked out and his hair cut short.

You remember showing Tamamo the letter, surrounded by the froglets as he read from behind your shoulder. You told him that you would like to meet such a staunch person, and perhaps at the time, you had laughed alongside him when he said that should Genjirou truly act as he feared, then it would not be humiliation that he would bear. There was nothing to worry for, all you had to do was await his arrival.

Yet, despite his staid words and his solemn promises, he never came.

Under the moonlight and through the cold night wind, you can only let out a soft sigh. Your shoulders slump beneath your robes as all of a sudden, your body feels too heavy for your feet. Leaning against the wooden pillars of the front gate, that familiar tightness in your chest returns once more. Yet rather than what feels like your ribs enclosing onto your rapidly beating heart, what occurs to you now is more akin to that sentimental organ squeezing against its cage, yearning to pry straight through to leap out and wither away. Your lungs long for air, forcing in and out and yet it is not enough, never enough.

It is cold, so, so cold. Why were you cold?

Closing your eyes, you feel a presence approach from behind you, then a hand pulls you away from your resting spot. You lay against a warm body, that even through layers and layers of silk and brocade, you do not even have to open your eyes to know who it is.

“Tamamo,” Your murmur disappears into the night, yet it is a call that he hears and responds to.

With your limp limbs that which hang uselessly, the old fox gathers you into his embrace, allowing you to bury your face into his chest. “I thought he was different…”

Methodical and rhythmic, his chest rises and lowers, coaxing your breath to follow suite. Within his hold, there is a warmth that penetrates the skin, enveloping your tendons in loving flame. Tightly held and tightly received, Tamamo lets you dig your nails into him, until your fingertips ache and your wrists cramp up. He merely returns the sentiment, as though it was entirely natural to do so.

“Will you be honest with me?”

As though ashamed to even consider such a thought an option, you can barely muster your voice to above a whisper, “Do you think I’m a disappointment to my master?”

“Of course not, my little lady is very accomplished,” He croons, his voice soft and soothing. “Do you think I would have answered your call otherwise?”

Still enveloped in his presence, you inhale the familiar smell that clings to him. When he speaks to you as such, it truly does feel like all will be right in this world. Desiring nothing more than to keep you safe, this old fox you had once shrinked from has now become your only succour. How fast you had let him in your heart, that he should treat you with the same regard and care you do the rest of your shikigami, and you would become so easily reliant on what he may give you. Ironic, yet undeniably a notion you had grown aware of since his arrival.

“Besides, he is rather foolish to give up on you,” He sighs, an undertone distantly related to triumph hidden beneath assuage and fondness.

That graceful hand cups your face, reverent as though bearing a great treasure. Your eyes flutter open, and it is then you notice that he is no longer wearing his mask, presenting that exquisite face once hidden to you. Narrow eyes of beguiling gold with long lashes, lips that more appeared as delicate petals. No matter the scarlet markings painted upon his skin, it is no wonder that men should turn to fanaticism in the face of such sublimity. You can only stare in awe, how warm your ears flush and how heat roils in your stomach upon the sonorous hum of his voice.

“You deserve much, much better than a human who only knows to lie to you.”

Lying on the beaten dirt path, Kiyohara Genjirou will be buried in an unmarked grave, neither name nor profession known to those who will find him. For all that remains of this unwitting suitor is the stench of smoke and shrivelled corpse, caught too soon in a fox’s tempestuous favour and left to burn in the same blazing rancour that once threatened to engulf the tranquil capital.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

なつむしの, なほあきたらぬ

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Being a good onmyoji is not difficult, it is not some arduous task to respect and love your shikigami, to treat them as one would dear friends and family. Yet, a shikigami that has only lost and lost, when given a second chance to make it all right, what then happens to that good onmyoji is very often known only to those hidden away.

Your master, when he had learned of the events that transpired had taken it with nothing more than a furrowed brow and a sharp exhale. Before he left, he had gifted you a talisman and instructed you to hang it in your room, to which you did. Yet, that very day, it had gone missing from your door. You had no unease at it, after all, he had given you hundreds of protection talismans, what difference was one going missing?

You on the other hand, had come to realise many things about your emotions with the arrival of both dismay and prolonged peace. That old fox who has done nothing but inexplicably care for you, with no explanation nor clarification. It had come out of nowhere, that quiet wistfulness and longing glances, you nearly thought yourself mad yet it was true. Torturing yourself with what could only possibly be, one could only imagine the joy that filled you when you had to do nothing but wait just a little longer, and even that foolish wish should come to be.

Cicadas sing in the distant night, your lover has long retired for the night and lays atop the bed, what you may see now is but his most true form, masks and disguises left at the door. Vulpine ears atop his head along with nine full tails, he once again scoops you into his embrace as even his tails move to cover you.

“Cold…” You only whine, squirming closer as though you could crawl into his skin.

Tamamo only huffs in amusement, no sign of actual vexation, and pulls you in closer. The increased contact brings burning touch falling upon your skin, the old fox noses along some invisible line at your neck, his lips pressing a kiss upon your pulse. He coaxes a sigh from your throat, soft and airy and almost all too practiced. Wholeheartedly embracing the fervid greed within him, you think you feel the prick of sharp canines against tender skin, yet you could care less.

In nothing more than your sleeping robes, luxurious clothes stripped off, legs entangled and limbs intertwined. To an unwitting observer, it would be difficult to discern whose form was whose, so thoroughly ensnared fox and human may as well be one body.

With neither onmyoji nor spirit to separate the two of you, and in this little delusion, not even the heavens will seize you from his side. He has ensured it, he shall see to it that the one he loves will never bear such suffering ever again.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

こひをたのみて

#onmyoji #阴阳师 #onmyoji x reader #onmyoji tamamo no mae #tamamo no mae #tamamo no mae x reader #yandere x reader

130 notes · View notes

retrofightingrobot · 5 months

Text

Poor Quint :(

Do you know why the fight with Quint feels weird? Because he actually didn't even know you were there.

Part 2

#megaman #rockman #quint #mega man killers #wily numbers #wily bots #megacomics #dr. wily #Yes the hard knuckle does exactly 6 damage to Quint #You also need to hit him 6 times to beat him #I did research to make this comic #I love megaman fandom wiki

244 notes · View notes

chaesparklez · 1 month

Text

holiday fling | jiwoong x reader

wc: 2.4k

reader: femme afab: heavily gendered descriptions (reader is described with gendered terms, described to be wearing lingerie, having breasts)

warnings: MINORS DNI EXPLICIT SMUT 18+

alcohol consumption, oral f! receiving, heavy petting, vaginal sex, one night stand, teasing, spanking, once again mentions of reader being female!!

synopsis: a hot mysterious stranger approaches you on the roof of your hotel on vacation. after chatting to you through a night filled with sexual tension, he slips a chit of paper into your hand inscribed with only one thing- his room number. by the energy built up between you, you just know exactly what’ll happen once you step foot in that room. :)

a/n: cross posted on wattpad and ao3. full version available on both platforms by yours truly. wattpad+ao3 @/chaesparkle

you've been staring at your reflection so hard it's starting to distort itself.

you had been slowly making yourself up for the past 45 minutes, spraying scent on freshly showered skin and dabbing cream highlight across your cheekbones. you'd come to the decision that you were going to jiwoong's hotel room tonight.

a couple of days had passed since the night on the terrace which you were still surprised wasn't a fever dream. it wasn’t often that a tall handsome stranger approached you out of nowhere and started flirting… and you actually flirted back.

you had decided to say 'fuck it' and take up his lucrative offer. those raven black eyes and wily smile had charmed you.

and after all, what was the harm in having some fun on vacation?

so you find yourself stood outside the mahogany door with '107' marked in gold letters on it. taking a deep breath, you knock.

and there he is. the man himself, standing before you in all his glory in grey sweatpants, hair still damp from the shower and smelling amazing. jiwoong greets you with his lazy smile, leaning against the doorframe in that laidback sexy way that seemed to entice you here in the first place.

"and she finally makes her appearance. come on in," he says, gesturing for you to enter with a nod of his head.

the suite is amazing. cream interior with windows stretching from floor to ceiling through which you can see the view of the whole city. the room is dimly lit with only the warm light of a tall floor lamp.

'it's nice to see you again. how are you?'

"never been better."

jiwoong sidles over to the window and gazes out at the sparkling view.

"it's a beautiful view." you comment.

he turns around and smiles.

"it's a very, very beautiful view." he remarks, walking over to you while taking in your appearance. your heart skips a beat at his piercing gaze which now focuses on your deep red lips.

"would you like some wine?"

"i'd love some."

he pours a glass of plum wine for you both before proffering his glass to cheers.

"what should we cheers to?"

"to this impossibly gorgeous view. to this long summer night. and to us?" you smile.

"to us." he grins, clinking your glasses together. he takes your hand gently and guides you to sit on the plushy king-sized bed where you perch down gingerly.

"i'm sorry i approached you so abruptly." he says.‘ever since i saw you i just felt this overwhelming feeling.'

"a good or a bad feeling?" you ask, smiling and sipping your wine.

"i thought i was going insane. it’s not everyday you come across a beautiful woman like you. whatever i felt when i saw you, it was... primal."

"well then, i guess that doesn't make you the only insane person." you mutter delicately.

your heart rate quickens as a moment of silence passes between you. you gaze up into his eyes before they travel down to his full lips, the sexual tension in the air almost palpable. he brushes your hair away from your face and caresses your cheek with his thumb. his thumb strokes your bottom lip gently, his gaze fixed on those ruby lips once again.

a mischievous idea comes into your head. and you proceed to take his thumb into your mouth while maintaining eye contact the whole time.

jiwoong purses his lips and squeezes his eyes closed while shaking his head, overcome with lust. taking a step away from you he runs a hand through his hair and curses under his breath, muttering just loud enough for you to hear:

"you drive me crazy."

"i could say the same to you as well." cocking your head to the side and giving him a mischievous grin.

you stand up and inch towards him with your hands behind your back. coming so close to him you can smell his earthy cologne, you look into his eyes again.

'you know, i dreamt of you that night. after we met on the terrace.'

"oh?"

"mhmm."

he pulls you in by the waist so you're merely inches away.

"and what did we get up to in this dream?" he asks, a dark glint in his eye.

your hand, which rests against his muscled chest, strokes down slowly as you lean in closer.

"you fucked the shit out of me." you whisper into his ear.

a beat.

and his lips are on yours.

he kisses you passionately, his lips soft and warm against your own. the kiss is hot and sultry, the two of you desperately hungry for one another. your heartbeat goes crazy and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks as he intensifies the kiss. you naturally sink onto the bed so he's on top of you. the heat of your bodies combined only increases your hunger for one another, his hand slowly travelling up your thigh to trace the line of your panties. you shiver at his cool touch and run your hands through his hair.

exploring each other's bodies, you caress his muscled chest. your hand travels down to his perfect abs; you feel his growing erection pressed against your pelvis and he takes a sharp intake of breath as your hand brushes over it. in return his touch travels up to your breasts gently massaging them over your bra.

the white robe you wear begins to slip down your shoulder with the movement, exposing your skin, and jiwoong's mouth strays from your lips down to your neck, sucking and nibbling gently on your soft skin. he leaves gentle kisses on the sensitive part of your neck where it meets the collarbone. it feels so good you can't help but let out a gentle moan, waves of pleasure blooming throughout your body right to the tips of your fingers.

he removes his t shirt before taking off your robe and tossing it aside so you can feel each other's bare skin. god, the view of him on top of you with those muscles on full display has you reeling.

his kisses wander from your neck to your collarbone across to the shoulder, then back to your lips. the tip of his tongue slides across your teeth, and you moan once again. you need more; you need him all over you.

you pull away for a moment, the two of you breathless and flushed with desire. he takes a look at you lying underneath him; the view of you gazing up at him with pink cheeks and your lipstick smudged makes him positively ravenous for you.

removing your bra and throwing it aside in a swift movement, he begins to massage one of your breasts while sloppily licking and sucking the hardened nipple of the other; his cold hand contrasting with the heat of his tongue circling your nipple. you sigh in pleasure, running your fingers along his exposed back.

between kisses you ask in a yearning voice: "please. i need your lips. your tongue. down here." you take his hand and place it between your legs, where without missing a beat he strokes along the line of your dripping wet pussy, his middle finger massaging your clit in circular motions, making you gasp between his lips at his touch.

with swollen lips and tousled hair, he locks eyes with you and slowly sinks down to your legs before taking off your panties.

he runs his tongue up along the length of your pussy and down again allowing himself to enjoy your sweet juices. eating you out fast and sloppily, the room is filled with your moans at the relentless flicks of his tongue against your clit. gripping your thighs, you arch into his touch as he continues to lick your pussy with ravenous desire. he sucks right on your clit, the suction sending ripples of pleasure throughout your body.

his passion, the messiness of it, the rawness of everything is so erotic. your thighs begin to tremble around his face and you weave your fingers through his thick black hair pulling in desperation, feeling your climax coming close already.

"f-fuck me..." you whimper, head spinning.

upon hearing this he emerges from between your legs with messy hair and wetness dripping down his chin. wiping it with the back of his hand before slowly making his way back up to you.

with him on top of you and your legs wrapped around him you can feel his hard length on your center. finally straying away from your body, he pauses to take a condom out of the bedside drawer.

he tears open the condom packet with his teeth in an irresistibly sexy way, looking right at you with those dark bedroom eyes. then removes his shorts. you gape at his fully grown length, unable to help rubbing your thighs together at how the sight before you makes you even wetter. just before he puts it on, you find yourself asking:

“can i do it?”

he hands it over and as you take his length into your hand for a moment he lets out a deep moan under his breath, making you smile in amusement and gaze up at him, stroking it once to tease him.

"don't," he breathes. 'it's hard enough trying not to cum without you looking at me like that.' he brushes your hair away from your eyes.

placing the condom on his tip you lean forward and roll it down with your mouth, prompting another suppressed moan from him. he curses under his breath at the feeling of your lips around his length. unable to stand it, he roughly pushes you back onto the bed.

your breath quickens, your chest rising and falling in close proximity with the heat of his body. you bite your lip in anticipation.

"tell me if it hurts." he says in a deepened voice.

then he thrusts his cock deep inside you. you cry out in pleasure and grip at the sheets, your walls clenching around him. as he begins to move his hips, you grasp at his back leaving faint scratches on it. the sensation of his touch all over your body making every cell in your body light up in response.

he fucks you passionately, robbing you of your breath. you feel every inch of his throbbing cock inside you hitting your g spot with every rough thrust. he burrows his face into your neck and moans deeply, so you can feel the vibrations on your skin.

making out with you sloppily, he picks up the pace, fucking you hard and fast so the room is filled with the sound of your desperate moans and skin slapping against skin. you throw your head back in desire and moan without holding back.

"ah, fuck! just like that. please. keep going."

"how much do you want it? beg for me."

"p-please. please jiwoong. fuck me. go deeper."

"oh yeah? and what if i don't?" he contests, smirking.

he pulls out and strokes along the length of your center with his cock deliberately refusing to enter you. the stimulation against your sensitive clit combined with his husky voice whispering filth in your ear has you in pieces. you cant handle this anymore.

you move out from underneath him and pin him down, straddling him. surprised at first, that dangerous smirk of his creeps onto his face again as he takes in the view before him. he places his hands on your hips and squeezes your ass, letting his touch wander up to caress your waist, your breasts.

"you look so good on top of me like that." he mutters.

"you don't look too bad yourself," you smile and lean down to plant a hot kiss on his lips.

then you take in his length once again and begin to ride him, stimulating your clit with every movement while enjoying the feeling of his cock inside you. he squeezes your hips tighter and moans. he really does look so hot laying underneath you. his abdominals ripple in pleasure and his neck glimmers with sweat. his eyes fixate on your undulating body without wavering. you stroke your hand slowly down from his chest to his abs and whisper, "you like that?" in a breathy voice.

"mhmm" he replies, eyes closed and head thrown back.

you grin, satisfied, and continue to ride him. the sound of your combined moans reverberates around the room and your pussy throbs at how jiwoong looks at you with eyes filled with lust. you take his hand and place it on your breast, which he fondles with his firm grip. he rolls the tip of your nipple between his fingers. you whine loudly and throw your head back while riding him, your body rolls becoming slow and drawn out before coming to a stop.

switching positions, you place yourself on all fours and sink your head to rest on your arms while jiwoong positions himself behind you. slowly, so you can feel every pulsating vein, he slides his length into your pussy. you moan at how you can feel every inch of his cock inside you in this position. and once again he fucks you intensely as if he has something to prove, his hands gripping your ass hard and using the momentum to fuck you deeper. he alternates between deep, rough thrusts and smooth movements grinding his hips. you hide your face in the pillow stifling your moans but you feel him pull your head back with a tug to your hair.

"let it all out, princess. you don't have to be quiet here." he says, kissing the nape of your neck.

you cry out in pleasure just as he expects, to which he continues fucking you intensely and spanks your ass. your pussy clenches around his length at this, the sensation of your throbbing pussy combined with the way your ass tingles from the slap making you so wet you can feel it dripping down your legs. you beg for more and he obliges. you moan desperately at every spank landed on your trembling ass. you feel your climax come close and grasp at the pillow.

"fuck, i'm cumming, i'm cumming.." you whimper before your climax finally hits you, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you. your body trembles, overcome with sweet relief, and your pussy throbs around jiwoong's length. he cums right after, finishing with deep solid thrusts while moaning deeply. he gently massages the throbbing red skin of your ass and pulls out.

and like that, your bodies come to a repose. you sink into one another like withered leaves on the bed, jiwoong resting his head on your breasts.

a holiday fling, indeed.

#jiwoong x reader #jiwoong smut #zb1 #zb1 smut #zerobaseone #zerobaseone smut #zb1 imagines #zb1 x reader #zb1 x you #zb1 fics #zb1 fanfiction #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone jiwoong #zb1 jiwoong #kim jiwoong #kim jiwoong x reader #kim jiwoong imagines #kpop smut #kim jiwoong smut

90 notes · View notes

mewkwota · 2 months

Text

Since it's been years since I've greatly touched on helmetless Light/Wily Numbers, I thought it'd do me some good to run through a couple to ease my mind. Some of these also got some slight touch-ups like Plant and Crash Man. And I've never tried Gravity Man but always wanted to, so there's a quick try on him here.

Hopefully they are still recognizable by their armor.

Also, Top and Jewel Man got full-body shots because they're my faves. :>

#that said I boofed-up top's bangs because I had kinda intended them to be as such #my old art tended to make some hairstyles rather flat (or I still was new to “hair growth” if that makes sense)#I mean I doodled something with fire and jules a while ago too but it wasn't much (and still years ago)#anywho onto the names agghhhh #doodle-daas #megaman #rockman #top man #jewel man #star man #plant man #crash man #quick man #gravity man #magnet man #all I knew for gravity was that I wanted a quiff #he just couldn't have one like proto man's though-- that'd be big trouble :< (so it juts up not out)

63 notes · View notes

assortedseaglass · 4 months

Text

🌟Solstice | Yuletide 🌟

Osferth x Unnamed Female Character

Summary: Osferth celebrates the solstice with the pagans.

Content Warning: The drabbliest of drabbles

🎄Yuletide Masterlist🎄

Shame welled in his heart.

No matter how often he tried to look away, or thought of the Lord, Osferth could not bring himself to leave his sentinel beyond the forest clearing.

How long he’d stood there, he could not say for certain, but the moon had risen beyond the trees to its nocturnal rest. His feet in their leather boots, were numb. His mouth, dry, though whether this was due to leaving the inn so early or because of the sight before him, he too did not know.

The young monk saw the glow first. Through the tunnel of the trees, the honeyed light grew until it seemed the very forest was aflame. Yet the voices he heard were not fearful. Edging closer to the woodland border, he found they were jubilant. Laughter. Singing. Excited chatter.

Onward he walked, into the trees’ dark embrace. Beneath him, branches crackled and snapped with every tentative step. The noise of the party grew nearer. An enemy encampment perhaps? No, they would lie low prior to attack. Travelling goodsman and their crew? Surely they would be at the inn with everyone else in Aureberie.

The glow led him to the edge of the clearing at which he now stood, and the sight he beheld was like none he had seen, except in dreams.

A pyre of wood was set ablaze at the clearing’s centre, sparks breaking away from the flames and reminding him of barely remembered stories told by his mother long ago.

“Angels flying heavenward, little one.”

Even from where he stood beneath the bare trees, Osferth felt the warmth radiating from the glorious fire. Tendrils of flame violently licked the sky, its great roar growing in strength and drowning out the souls silhouetted against its light.

It was this, that truly mesmerised Osferth.

Dancing around the ring of flame, bodies writhed and twirled, all curve and sinew, flailing arms raised to the heavens with teeth gleaming in the firelight. Garlands of leaves donned their brows; holly and fir on beds of moss. For some, this was all they wore. Though this number was few, men and women alike danced about the pyre as naked as a babe.

Osferth watched, transfixed, as plump flesh and fat rolled, coiled, stretched and swayed.

Shame rushed to his breaches.

Round tummies, tender breasts, plush thighs. The flickering of firelight across the women’s soft flesh dizzied Osferth and, at last, he looked away.

Wolf’s eyes and an enigmatic smile. How long had she been there?

At once, Osferth reached for his sword.

“You are the monk they call Osferth?” The woman stepped forward, hands open in surrender.

“Yes.” His voice was firm. He had seen this woman before, about Aureberie since their arrival. The healer. She hummed at his answer.

“Please, let go of the sword.” Her voice was so gentle, so measured, that he did as she commanded without thinking.

A prickle ran up his spine. If she was the wolf, wily and tactful, surely he was the rabbit. Startled, wide-eyed. “How long have you been there?”

“Longer than you, Christian.”

“That is not what I mea-”

“I know what you meant.”

She stepped towards him and Osferth straightened, determined not to let her see his shame. To his great relief, her smile softened. “It is the solstice,” she nodded towards the pyre. “We are moving back towards the light.”

“Yes,” Osferth said. “It was the light that drew me in.” He had turned back to watch the gathering party.

“And what was it that made you stay?” The low timbre of her voice made him shiver, and, when Osferth looked at her, he saw she was right beside him.

“I think you know, lady.” He said, watching the flames dance in the reflection of her eyes. She nodded.

“Come, Christian,” she held out her hand in beckoning. Osferth took it, spellbound. And she led him, not towards the celebration, but deeper into the forest.

The usual suspects: @arcielee @targaryenrealnessdarling @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @ellrond @cyeco13 @babyblue711 @exitpursuedbyavulcan @humanpurposes @myfandomprompts @barbieaemond @anjelicawrites

#ewan mitchell #osferth #osferth x reader #tlk #the last kingdom #ewan mitchell x reader #hilde's twelve days of christmas

73 notes · View notes

vintagerpg · 9 months

Text

Buckle up! This is GURPS Time Travel (the revised second edition from 1995). Before we dig in though, let us pause and appreciate that magnificent cover painting by John Zeleznik. Triceratops vs. Future Man. I would hang that next to Charles Knight’s Triceratops vs. T-Rex, I kid you not.

Moving on. GURPS Time Travel is a masterpiece. There are far too many GURPS books for me to have any idea which is The Best, but this one should certainly be in contention. It is the definitive RPG book on time travel to date, to my knowledge, for ANY system. For real, its pretty light on GURPS-centric rules, so you can use this for reference for any game that dips into the timestream.

In fact, it is an excellent primer on time travel in general. There’s plenty of discussion of both scientific thought on the matter (outdated now, but still handy) and much chin-stroking over the various strains of fictional time travel. This mechanical pondering of time travel takes up about half the book and covers pretty much all the time travel bases I am willing to consider (I admittedly have a low tolerance for time travel stories!). This forms a bedrock upon with Jackson and science fiction author John M. Ford build a number of campaign frames, both large (Time Corps!) and small (time jumping via drugs!). A lengthy section on parallel earths and all the messes time travel can make rounds things out.

I don’t really know how to convey how wildly out there the book is. The casual discussion of paradoxes and other theoretical quirks of time travel is both boggling, deeply entertaining and omnipresent. It seems intentionally complex, like the book is trying to make you wave your arms in the air in exasperation — and there is a wily fun in that pseudo-frustration. Without a doubt, this book, sitting at the crossroads of all worlds, times and possibilities, is the true and secret heart of GURPS.

#roleplaying game #tabletop rpg #dungeons & dragons #d&d #rpg #ttrpg #Steve Jackson #Steve Jackson Games #GURPS #Time Travel

185 notes · View notes

drconstellation · 4 months

Note

i'm sorry i'm a bit slow when it comes to reading comprehension...i thought crowley saves the goats because he doesn't want to kill them, not because they're associated with demons? or did i get that wrong? 🙈

Angelic Sheep and Demonic (Scape)Goats

[Just for reference, the question above was prompted by another meta: Goats, Crows and The Flood]

Thank you for the question. This gives me a chance to write up a sheep and goat meta at length - but I hope you're not going to regret asking it, because its not a simple answer. While I am always saying "it never is in the GOmens AU" I have to admit this one took off with a life of its own (the metas do that sometimes) and has ended up much longer than I thought it would and went to places I didn't expect it to go, but sometimes that is the joy of writing these.

Crowley doesn't want to kill them because he thinks they are innocent and blameless, just like the children of Job - and by extension, we are meant to see he thinks he was unfairly blamed and condemned to be a demon as well. That's it at its most simple level, but by understanding why there is an association between demons and goats will give you a much deeper insight into Crowley's story and why he would act this way. S2 of GOmens is like an onion, you need to peel that thin dry skin off and then slice through several more juicy layers to get the full depth of flavor into the complex meal that has been created for us. Its worth the tears that the chopping of the onion releases in the end. Are you brave enough to find out?

Take the conversation above, between Sitis and Bildad/Crawley. Sitis is a parallel-character to Aziraphale here, wearing the angel's signature teal green, and she questions the demon about the children being threatened with destruction. Then let us put these two parallel scenes side-by side: Sitis vs Bildad and Aziraphale vs Heaven

AZIRAPHALE: Oh. So just his worldly goods. MURIEL: Exactly. Oh, nothing important, no. Just his farm, his camels, his goat, his oxen, his children, his geese… AZIRAPHALE: His WHAT?! MURIEL: His geese. You know, big cross ducks.[flaps arms] AZIRAPHALE: His children?

So we have Sitis looking in horror at a demon at the potential death of her children, and then we have Aziraphale looking in horror at Heaven acting demon-like, not caring if children are destroyed in pursuit of victory over Satan. "Trust in God's plan, Aziraphale. Always," admonishes the shoulder-demon Gabriel (he is so often a shoulder demon - I have words to say about this! - in another meta) In other words, be a good sheep, Aziraphale, and have faith in the Almighty. Don't worry about the goats, or kids. They aren't important.

If you listen carefully during the Job minisode, A Companion to Owls, you'll notice Gabriel prefers to emphasize the number of sheep that will be returned to Job in the end. The Christian church is very big on the sheep imagery! Sheep are considered to be modest, humble, obedient (because they follow one another - you need to be a good follower!) and patient. They follow their shepherd's voice and goes where he directs. (Uh huh...) Followers are described as being part of a flock.

Goats, on the other hand (ah, yes, we'll talk about that in a moment) are considered to be a bit on the nose. Literally. A rutting billy goat is described as having a 'fetid' smell, they can be promiscuous, capricious, devious (wily?) and contrary. Their strong-mindedness, singleness of purpose and leadership qualities (!*) make them the opposite of sheep. While going your own independent way is frowned upon by Heaven, this leading quality of the goat is sometimes used to lead the sheep.

"There are three things that are stately in their stride, four that move with stately bearing: a lion, mighty among beasts, who retreats before nothing; a strutting rooster, a he-goat, and a king with his army around him." Proverbs 30: 29-31

Did you get a good whiff of that sinister archangel, Shax?

(oh boy, some of the stuff I found researching this for more detail...such as "going your own way creates disunity...this leads others astray..." wtf! Looking at this in context with the show makes it kind of, well, some things make more sense to me now? I guess that's a big reflection on the kind of culture I personally grew up in, because I know there are cultures where unity and togetherness is looked upon as happiness and harmony.)

In the tv show, we know the scene blocking - where the characters stand - has great importance. Standing on the right-hand shoulder of another character makes them a shoulder-angel (the dexter side), standing on the left a shoulder-demon (the sinister side.) By watching who stands where usually tells us what moral stance they are taking in that scene.

If we take the example from the Job minisode below, we can see quite an interesting dynamic from the scene blocking. On the left, we have Sitis and Job, who is crouching down. They are an Aziraphale-Crowley parallel-pair, and they are even colour-coded with their colours! Sitis, in Aziraphale's teal on the angelic right of yellow tunic-wearing Job, who's modelling Crowley's suffering for sin but without understanding why. Job has crouched down to highlight Crowley's entrance. On the right the glowing angels are arrayed - Michael on the angelic right shoulder, Gabriel in the middle (more often than not he stands on the demonic left) but this time Aziraphale is taking the far left demonic position, and we know why - he's about to lie like a demon! But even on a grander scale, Sitis, Job and Crowley all stand on the angelic RHS of the visiting angels, making the archangels and Aziraphale all collectively LHS demons in this scene. And Gabriel thought they'd won the bet...*snort*

You should all take a moment to appreciate this piece of Art. Go on. Do it.

Sheep and goats had this right- and left-handedness meted out to them long ago in the bible. The sheep belong to the morally righteous right-hand side, of course, the side of angels, and the goats to the demonic left.

But when the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. Before him all the nations will be gathered, and he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left. Matthew 25:31-33

This passage and the following lines from Matthew describes how Jesus will judge the righteous from the sinners, and those who have been deemed good will be saved, but those who are deemed unworthy will be treated like goats: "Then he will say also to those on the left hand, 'Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire which is prepared for the the devil and his angels" Matthew 25:41

So we've established the link between goats being demons, and the left-hand side, so they have an affinity with Crowley. We can do a bit of humorous visual and word play between kids and children.

Children.

ah.

oh. OH. Hang on a minute...

Lets just take a step back to the beginning of the minisode, where Crawley delivers his short monologue to the assembled goats.

CRAWLEY: You should know why you're about to die. God has abandoned you. The God who claims to love you, who demands your praise, has given you up to be destroyed.

They're rather small goats, aren't they. The kind of size that makes you wonder if they are goat children or grown goats... you know, it doesn't matter - they are little, cute and innocent. You are meant to associate them with kids, now, and in the past. (Like, in the way, way back past. Like not just the Flood, but the Before the Beginning past.) What matters is Crawley's speech to them, because it sounds very much like him repeating his own experience about his Fall from Heaven. We already know from S1 there is a conflict around Crowley's Fall involving wanting to ask God questions. We get to explore this further several times in S2.

Then later, after emerging from Job's cellar, they witness God talking to Job.

AZIRAPHALE: I don't suppose he's getting any answers. CRAWLEY: No. But just to be able to ask the question.

We don't hear all the lines God speaks to Job, but we hear enough to them to understand that they come from the Book of Job 38 and 39. The context behind these two verses is...interesting. I was going to delve into them a little more but I think that will get us off track on this meta, so perhaps I should come back and revisit it separately, but we can note that several ops have pointed out that the lines we do hear God speak clearly to Job can be connected to Crowley. There are no coincidental accidents in S2.

But just look at Job in that last image - the light of God shining brightly down through a hole in the clouds, darkness all around...

Hmm. Remind you of anything. Like maybe... another Voice from above?

Who we've seen has shown a particular dislike for a certain demon, even though most certainly remembers what his name is.

METATRON: Ah, well, always did want to go his own way. Always asking damn fool questions, too.

Well, doesn't that sound just like a demon goat.

That withering look the Metatron gave Crowley in S2E6, the comment about asking "damn fool questions," - just about the only conclusion you can come to is that the Metatron had something to do with Crowley's Fall. What and how exactly is still unclear, but there are some clues in Gabriel's story, as Gabriel is acting as both a parallel and foil to Crowley in S2. At this point we should also talk about the scapegoat ritual that was widely practiced around the near Middle East regions for quite some time.

The scapegoat ritual involved two young goats being chosen for sacrifice, but one of them had the sins of the community spoken over them then set free to wander into the desert wilderness to die, while the other was sacrificed as a Burnt offering to God. This was a symbolic way of removing sins from the community.

It is also applied to the Passion of Jesus. When the gathered crowds are offered the choice between letting Jesus or Barabbas go free, they choose Barabbas. I've written at length how I see this applied to S2 in this meta here: The Passion of Jimbriel: Resurrection and while Gabriel and Crowley share the role of Jesus fairly equally throughout the Passion story line, there is one point it can be split and Gabriel becomes the Barabbas and the goat that was released into the wilderness and Crowley becomes Jesus on the cross - but he turns into the sacrificial lamb! Perhaps that needs to be changed to the burnt offering...

I know there are quite a few meta ops that are aware of the scapegoat ritual, and more often than not I see Aziraphale being suggested as the current scapegoat. But the way I see the ritual being used in GO is not so much in the present story but in the past, and Crowley was the unwilling scapegoat for the rebelling angels that fell.

OK, I think I've run out spoons on this meta, but seeing how its managed to be at least twice the size I initially envisioned it to be, and its since generated two more meta ideas in the writing of it on top of the ones I'm already trying to do, that isn't too bad.

I'll wrap it up by saying no matter who the scapegoat is, Aziraphale needs to let his inner lion out so he can be The GOAT in S3. I'm sure the original nanny-goat will applaud that.

*talking about that topic...I should have a meta out soon centered around Crowley and Gabriel that will cover this. I will probably come back and edit a link in to it.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #crowley #goats #sheep #crows #job minisode #a companion to owls #aziraphale #gabriel #michael #muriel #the metatron #shoulder angels #dexter vs sinister #scapegoat

74 notes · View notes