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mask131 · 10 months ago

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I'll end my wendigo rant of the day with this very informative and useful reblog about the evolution of the Wendigo's appearance - and where the whole "wendigo has a deer/stag head" thing comes from, when the original wendigo had no deer traits at all.

On my part, I only knew of the 2001's Wendigo movie as the earliest depiction of the creature as deer/stag associated - I didn't know of the existence of the "Frostbiter" movie, which places everything under a new perspective.

Something that must be said is that 2001's Wendigo and "The Last Winter" are actually made by the same person, Larry Fessenden. The fact he was behind these two works, that heavily influenced the modern "antlered wendigo" idea, explains a lot, since he reused a set of imageries in a way. But what is also very, very interesting is that in those two movies, the actual existence of the wendigo is left unclear. These antlered visions and animalistic creatures could be wendigo and are read as such by some within the movie... but there are also strong evidences of hallucinations, madness or unrelated tsupernatural perceived as wendigo (this is especially true in the 2001 movie where the whole point is that the main character undergoes a descent into madness, and as such the "wendigo" he believes to be persecuting him can be entirely read as his own sick psyche building up an entire creature out of his personal experiences - and the death of a deer is one of the main incidents at the beginning of the movie). This is part of the internalized imagery of these movies, which is supposed to make sense within the context of the stories and the themes of the tales (having the wendigo-associated creature be animalistic feeds the entire environmental theme of The Last Winter for example). But of course, once you take the "antlered wendigo" outside of the context of these specific tales, it suddenly makes no sense anymore.

What is even MORE interesting and fascinating is that Larr Fessenden worked for a third and last time on the wendigo legend... in "Until Dawn", the video game. Which has been praised for having one of the most accurate depictions of wendigos of the early 21st century, as pale, skeletal humanoid creatures. This does support the idea that Fessenden always knew about the proper and true wendigo imagery, but purposefully strayed away from it for his earlier movies in an attempt to have much more personal, non-mythical creatures that would belong to the world of fiction rather than real beliefs - only for it to backfire into massive misinformation about what wendigos look like, and him returning to the actual classical "normal" wendigos to avoid the misconception his own movies brought.

At least, that's one possible reading. I am not sure of it, and I don't know enough about Fessenden himself to claim this is actually what went on through his mind, but from contextual clues it seems to be this.

A few more notes to add:

I wanted to point out how, in a big ironic twist, the Cthulhu Mythos' depiction of wendigos through Ithaqua was much more fathful than any modern depictions of the creature with antlers - but you beat me to it X)

I find it so hilarious that the Beast from Over the Garden Wall is being called a wendigo when... it is just an antlered being with wintery themes. And that's enough to make a wendigo? The Beast of Over the Garden Wall borrows much more from the ideas of the "European Horned God" and of the Devil mixed with the Cernunnos-like figures in a strange mashed-up imagery - since Over the Garden Wall itself feeds from semi neo-pagan folklore (harvest festivals, Halloween celebrations, witches, there was a fascinating video somewhere about the use of New England folklore within the mini-series) , and from a loose interpretaton of Dante's Inferno (which explains the Beast's association with winter, since in Dante's Divine Comedy the Devil is associated with endless cold and eternal ice).

It should also be noted that - if my memory serves me well - Blackwood's take on the Wendigo was popularized by "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark", which contains a simplified version of it. This also showed how popular the story had become, that it had been reduced to the rank of "campfire stories", "ghost stories for kids" and other "urban legends". (It also explains why still recently some people were convinced that wendigos were "urban legends")

(But seriously I never heard of Frostbiter before, I NEED to watch this movie now)

In general... It is quite fascinating, when you are European, to see how the United-States (and modern Canada too) have taken the very European imagery of the "antlered man" a la Cernunnos and completely plastered it and reused it everywhere in so many fashions... The wendigo becoming an antlered monstruosity is one, but I think something should also be said of the Wiccan Horned God's popularity, or of how in many fantasy works you will have a god of the hunt depicted as a man with a stag head or deer head. There's something to dig there...

Monster Art History: The Wendigo

You may be wondering why the wendigo, which has become very popular in pop culture over the last 10 years or so, is usually depicted in Western sources with a deer head. This appears nowhere in Native American traditions, despite the creature having lots of folkloric variations. The association of the wendigo with deer is 100% Western, 100% modern, and has a long, weird history.

Just in case you need a primer, the windigo or witiko is a supernatural being from the Algonquin speaking nations of the eastern American continent. It appears as an emaciated figure, sometimes giant, sometimes covered in ice, sometimes both. In many stories, they have a literal heart of ice. Windigos are manifestations of cannibalism and winter, and hunt, kill and eat people. Someone who resorts to cannibalism to survive, or otherwise abandons their community for personal gain, will become one of them. A few stories tell of someone being “cured” and turned back into a human, but usually the only cure is to kill the monster. In the last several decades, native writers have associated windigos with capitalism and deforestation as an extension of their selfishness. If you would like to know more about the properly Native windigo in context, I recommend Dangerous Spirits: The Windigo in Myth and History by Shawn Smallman.

The creature first came into horror fiction with Algernon Blackwood’s “The Wendigo”. Note the spelling, which would become the standard in horror, and generally in non-academic Western sources. In that story, it is not associated with cannibalism, but instead is a more generic “evil spirit of nature”. This wendigo stalks white people in the wilderness and turns a Native character into a new wendigo by seizing them and flying with them into the sky. This definitely better fits fears about non white people, fears about nature, and how the one is closer to the other than “civilized” people. Its description in the story is vague (the most we get is that it has burned its feet away by running into the sky). But when the story appeared in Weird Tales in the 1930s, Virgil Finlay illustrated it like this, the first antlered wendigo I know of.

This story was ripped off by August Derleth, a prominent Weird author in the 1940s and the main popularizer of HP Lovecraft. In his Cthulhu Mythos stories, he introduces Ithaqua the Wind Walker, which is an alien version of Blackwood’s monster. This fits into Derleth’s vision of the gods and monsters of HP Lovecraft falling into the four classical elements, with Ithaqua being invented to represent Air. Ithaqua is usually depicted as an icy, emaciated giant, so ironically is one of the more accurate wendigos to Indigeonous beliefs in pop culture.

Image from a recent French edition of Call of Cthulhu RPG, by Loic Muzy

In Pet Sematary, Stephen King uses a wendigo as the reason for why the titular cemetery is cursed. This is an update of the classic racist trope of the “Indian Burial Ground”, except this time what gets buried there comes back animalistic and evil. The racist implications of that are pretty apparent. This wendigo is seen briefly and has ram’s horns. It does not appear in the first film adaptation, but does in the more recent one… with deer horns instead, because those are trendy right now.

A good scholarly look at the real windigo versus the 20th century horror wendigo is “The Appropriation of the Windigo Spirit in Horror Literature” by Kallie Hunchman.

In the 1980s, a movie called Frostbiter: Wrath of the Wendigo was produced, but it wasn’t released until 1995 by Troma. From what I’ve read, it’s a pretty transparent ripoff of Evil Dead 2, with the characters being picked off in a haunted cabin with a zombie in the basement. The “twist” is that the origin of the horrors is a wendigo released by breaking a Christian demonology-style sacred circle. This wendigo is realized in stop motion animation, and has the most deer-like body yet.

A number of other independent horror movies in the 90s and 2000s used wendigos as a plot element. These follow the Blackwood/King approach of having the wendigo being something evil, ancient and Native American, reflecting white anxieties about living on stolen land more than Native anxieties about cannibalism and greed. Wendigo (2001) has the creature sicced on a white family when they hit a deer with their car. The Last Winter (2006) posits that global warming and fossil fuel extraction have unleashed the ghosts of dead animals, which are wendigo apparently, to revenge themselves on mankind. Which approaches the idea that greed is wendigo sickness, but I don’t think intentionally as a reference to modern Native literature. The “wendigo” in this movie are spectral moose and caribou.

The mainstream breakthrough of the deer-headed wendigo was in, appropriately enough for this blog, Pathfinder RPG. In “Spires of Xin-Shalast”, the last volume of Rise of the Runelords published in 2008, a wendigo is a major encounter. I suspect that either the author (Greg A. Vaughn), or one of the editorial staff had seen Frostbiter, as the setup involves a cabin haunted by dwarven cannibal ghosts who all killed and ate each other due to a wendigo’s influence. This wendigo is a hybrid of the Blackwood and Cree versions in terms of its MO: it is a cannibal ice spirit that wants to make more cannibals, and does so by abducting people and running off into the sky with them. Its design is the standard for what most Western artists depict wendigos as these days: an emaciated humanoid with the head and antlers of a deer (and the burned off feet of Algernon Blackwood, which are less common):

Image by Tyler Walpole, © Paizo Publishing

This wendigo definitely made a splash at the time; it was the first time I remember seeing a deer-headed wendigo, and art of that design started to become common. It pushed away previous wendigo depictions, which were typically werewolves (as French Canadian trappers had blended the concept with their own loup-garou, and Werewolf the Apocalypse had a whole faction of racist Native American “wendigos”) or shaggy and ape like (based more on the look of the Marvel Comics villain).

What turned wendigos from “folklore/horror monster” to “fandom blorbo” was Hannibal, which first aired in 2013. In that series, the first murder is a woman’s body impaled on a stag’s head, after which protagonist Will Graham has visions of a black stag, and a man with the antlers of a stag, representing murder, evil, and of course the cannibalistic murderer Hannibal Lecter.

Since Hannibal was super popular with the shipping fandom set, wendigo themed characters became popular in its wake, creating a wholly new way to culturally appropriate the wendigo. This was magnified by Over the Garden Wall, which came out in 2014, and its villain The Beast. The Beast is never called a wendigo, but is an antlered giant associated with winter, and so is commonly head-canoned as a wendigo and associated with them in fandom circles.

Which gets us to the modern day, where teenagers have misunderstood wendigo OCs, any character with antlers can be called a wendigo on the internet, and actual First Nations people with an actual cultural connection to the legend wish that people would just knock it off.

#reblog #wendigo #over the garden wall #informative #monster evolution #mythological misconceptions #cthulhu mythos

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nomorefstogive · 2 years ago

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For Lack of a Vision AU Idea

Word Count: Over 10K…let that sink in for a moment…our fingers hurt.

First, I would like to apologize for the lengthy delay between this and my last post. I have been busy with both Elden Ring and my other projects on top of my work, and so I have not had as much time as I would like to write. That being said, rest assured I am still keeping up with the ideas point in case this new merry mess of one.

Hmm…under normal circumstances this is not the kind of idea I would indulge in while I am enjoying wholesome escapism ideas. However, this idea has rooted itself into my head and no matter what I do I cannot for the life of me dislodge it. Thus I have resolved myself to give life to this idea even if it is not what I would normally choose to indulge in.

I suppose I should start this one off by saying that this one will be a fair bit darker than my previous ideas have been, and while it is not an impostor au, it will resemble one in some ways and contain some dark themes and topics that I feel I must caution you about, something which will be mirrored in a couple of other ideas that I will be posting once I have written them down.

Honestly, this idea pushes many of my limits in regards to the Imposter AUs that I have promised to not write, and is also something I am not quite confident about overall given both just how long I made this and how dark it gets in certain parts.

To give you a head up here are the-

Warnings: Dehumanization, Slavery, Descriptions of Death and Violence, Cult Behaviours, Religious Zealotry, Descriptions of Torture, Sadism and Cruelty.

This idea was somewhat inspired by my own take on how mortals would interpret a divine being without something allowing them to better understand just what it was that they were gazing upon, something that would give them the Vision to truly behold the divinity before them. I suppose that this idea can be considered something of a spin off of my Mother Knows Best idea and my Twin God idea, with them being taken in a somewhat darker direction. Also, as opposed to the reader having been the god of death for Teyvat it will be their twin who takes that role in this one.

Well then, I suppose it is time we start this mess of an idea, so without further ado let the curtain rise on this new idea of ours. Ah, before we begin we feel we should say that are going to be calling the Hydro Archon Minos, in homage to the Judge of Hell from Dante’s Inferno, and the Tsaritsa either Ipos or Lilith after either a demon of Ice and snow from the Ars Goetia or the first wife of Adam from Christianity.

Now then, what should we call this tale of ours…hmmm…ah! That one works quite well.

Let’s go with-

For Lack of a Vision

What is vision?

When one boils it all down to the base meaning of the word it is simply the ability to perceive the world through sight and to use our imagination and wisdom to chart a path to the future that we wish to achieve.

But now we must ask ourselves, what is A Vision?

As opposed to the ability to perceive the world through sight, a vision is a gift bestowed upon mortals by the gods of the world of Teyvat. A blessing that heralds the potential of an individual to ascend into godhood themselves either by hard work and effort during their mortal life or upon their passing from the mortal coil.

Be it awarded by the grace of Archons who govern the mortal realm upon Teyvat, or by the decision of the Celestial beings who stand eternal guard as heralds and servants to the gods who stand above the gods of Teyavt and whose authority stretches across the entirety of the cosmos of the universe that Teyvat is but a pebble within.

Yet despite marking a worthy soul for potential apotheosis, that is not the only purpose of the jewel-like objects known by mortals as Visions.

For their name gives way to the true purpose and reason behind which these objects were originally bestowed upon the mortals that called the masterpiece of the Shaper their home.

For it was long ago, oh so long ago indeed, that the child of the Mother who wove the cosmos into being, who gave rise to nebulas and stars and galaxies vast and wondrous beyond all imagining and who so carefully shaped and wove the laws that would govern the universe into its fabric, came upon the desolate ball of clay that they would sculpt into their masterpiece.

It was so long ago that the Shaper would labor for eons as they slowly sculpted the world into something truly wondrous as they sculpted its lands and then seeded them with life.

Of course it is well known that the shaper was not the only child of the Great Mother and it was with a cheer that made the cosmos revel in joy that the Shaper would take their twin by the hand and guide them across the world that they had made, gleefully showing them all that they had made as they frolicked amidst the plains and forests and mountains that they had so lovingly sculpted.

For many years the two were alone in their frolicking, as their mother yet still labored to weave her order into the chaotic universe that she oversaw, yet still she kept an eye upon her children and occasionally came to join them when her labors had worn her down, and yet otherwise they were alone upon the planet that the Shaper had made so long ago.

Yet there came a day when the two could bear their loneliness no longer, and so they approached their mother and asked for her aid in making something that they could share their new home with.

With a joyful smile the mother took her children into her arms and the three took to their new work. Gently guiding their hands to weave and infuse life beyond the towering arch-trees and great plants that enveloped the world in an endless sea of green.

For long did they labor and toil, carefully weaving each and every fiber of that which would come to call the world home with them. And so it was that after oh so many long eons of work that the first mortals would come into being upon the world of Teyvat.

At first they were simple creatures, beasts and fish and insects that held no great aspirations and dreams and instead reveled in their newly given life as they basked in their creators presences. Yet it would not be long after the first great beast of old laid its feets upon the soil of Teyvat and proclaimed to the world, nay to the cosmos themselves, its presence and glory, that something new would likewise begin to rise.

Be it by design or by pure sway of cosmic fortune the new being would be one of a species that lay spread across infinite universes, a race known for both their good and bad, for both their mercy and their cruelty, a race known as humanity.

The Shaper and their twin would marvel at this strange being for the ages that would pass as this simple and primitive being that would dwell amidst caves and crevices until such a day that they left behind the dark corners of the world and took to the light.

Oh how the twins marveled at the being that now stood under the warmth of the sun and took in the world that the Shaper had so lovingly made. The Mother likewise smiled on as she held her children and likewise reveled in the joy of seeing the fruits of their long labors at last ripen.

For ages they would watch over this being, the Shaper, ever kind and gentle, would craft for this being new plants and fruits that it may eat and new beasts that would walk beside it as kith and kin as the first humans began to explore the world that lay bare before them.

As they watched and marveled at the strange being, there came a time when the Mother felt the call to return to her duties of ordering the chaos of the universe for she had not yet finished with the task when she had been approached by her children and so great was her love for them that even the whole of the universe paled before their pleading faces, and so she laid a gentle kiss to each of her children’s brows and bade them be well and safe as she left to finish her duties.

The Shaper and their twin bid their mother farewell with smiles on their faces as they knew that she would finish her duties soon enough and then they would not be parted again unless something that truly threatened the breadth of that which the Mother had labored over arose.

For long would the twins watch over their creation until there came a day when the twin of the Shaper, they who would come to preside over that which would lay beyond the mortal coil and who come to be shepard and guide to souls of the fallen, would feel a stroke of inspiration as they beheld the being who no longer bore mere furs and leaves for clothing beginning to construct that which would be the basis for a new civilization.

The Guide, for that is what the twin of the Shaper came to be known as, told of an idea that had come to them, something to help ease the fears and doubts of the mortal who now walked upon the world below them. For they would go and amidst realms unseen craft a land for those who had fallen to call their home till their spirits yearned to return to the world they had come from anew.

And so with tearful smiles and a vow of reunion the Guide left to craft and order this new realm for the dead, and thus the Shaper was left to watch over and tend to their wondrous garden.

For so long they would watch over the mortals that came to roam the breadth of the world that they had sculpted into its wondrous form, and for so long would they labor anew to make new wonders to call the world home alongside of the mortals, that they may not suffer loneliness in their wandering across the world.

They crafted forth great beasts to rival those of the old, mighty reptilians who flew with great wings and other great and wondrous beings from simple slimes that happily bounced around to mighty plants who called forth the elements, and many other great and wondrous things.

Yet these great and mighty beasts and wondrous creatures were not the most wondrous of things that the Shaper had called forth from the clay and bedrock of the world. For long did they watch over the world and long did they watch over the mortals that walked it, and over those long ages they had come to learn of the mortal propensity for bloodshed and war, wars that brought with them fire and blood that set alight the beauty of the garden that the Shaper had sowed so long ago.

And so did the Shaper work to craft something that could aid them in keeping order and peace over the world that they loved so much.

And so did they reach out their hands and take from the world clay and stone, and then did they shape it into a great and mighty island that was not bound to the earth below them, but rather to the heavens above the world.

Lo did they work long and hard as they shaped the gleaming white stone into great towers and halls and mighty walls. Into the stone did they weave jewels and metals taken from the depths of the earth, and great and wondrous plants and animals that both walked the world in this age and who had long passed from the world into their siblings realm were bade to walk upon the emerald plains and swim in the great lakes and seas they forged upon the floating island.

Once at last they were content with their great work did they bestow unto it the name that their mother had taken so long ago as her own in, honor of her and all of her own wonder and all that she had done for them and the cosmos around them.

Thus Celestia was born.

And when the name was given, did the Shaper reach out their hand and let drip from their skin a lone drop of their ichor unto the stone of the realm and from the lone drop did they bid rise 2 great and terrible beings whom were twins in honor of the bond the Shaper shared with their own kin, and unto them was given authority over the newly born realm and over the forces of destiny and time so that they may aid in keeping order of the world below them.

And unto these great and mighty and terrible beings were given the names of Paimon of Time, and Asmoday of Destiny and their charge was to watch over the world, but they would not do it alone.

For as they had labored over their new allies did the world ignite anew with war and wrath, and yet it was not between the mortals that walked it, but rather between the great and terrible beings who had been made so long ago to walk alongside of the mortals and to share in their revelry and joy of the Shaper’s creation.

This great and terrible war, brought forth by the differing views and desires of those mighty beings who sought to best serve the most holy would lay low many and much, as those who sought power for the sake of power and tyranny clashed with those who sought power to rule with order and care.

And though the Shaper did weep over the death and destruction wrought by the hands of all those who partook in the mad orgy of blood and violence, did they not have the strength to raise their hands, for those that fought were all their children and they could not bring themself to harm them even as they fought and slew one another.

Yet from war did a result that the Shaper had not expected occur, for from the mire of battle and blood did arise the greatest and mightiest of all of those who had come to walk amongst the world and who were seen as gods by mortals, and unto each of their broken nations did they bring order and stability anew as they worked tirelessly to mend the wounds they had inflicted in their war.

And so unto these great and mighty beings did the Shaper appear and as they beheld the most divine did they fall upon their knees and bow, and yet the Shaper reached out and to their feet pulled them as they held them fast to their body in an embrace.

For they were their children and long had they suffered as the Shaper worked upon Celestia and they would not see them kneel before them but rather stand beside them for though many had they slain and much had they destroyed, they had yet brought order and peace and unity to broken peoples and nations such that the world had never seen.

And so did the Shaper offer unto them a reward for both ending the war and for ordering their lands as they had done so.

First did these great beings try and deny the offer of the most high, for they claimed that to bask in their presence and touch was reward enough or them and yet the Shaper would hear not of it, and so the mighty ones did ask for means to better serve the divine and to watch over their lands and the means to allow for those who had served with them the right to likewise receive a blessing from the most high.

And so great was the Shaper’s joy that they did embrace them again and then bestow unto each of them great and terrible power, both complete authority of the elements of the world and great and terrible powers far beyond what they had once possessed such that they could be considered true minor gods.

And then did they bestow unto these mighty warriors the title of Archon, and dominion over their lands was likewise given unto them, and with these boons given did the Shaper bid them gather their great comrades that they may bestow their gift upon them.

And so did the Archons gather those who were mortal and immortal and those who were neither and then did they avert their gazes and cover their eyes as they beheld the divine, and this puzzled the Shaper and so they asked of their children why did they avert their gazes?

And it was so that one of them did step forward and speak to the Divine one and say that to them they appeared not as the statues and shrines had shown but as something that their eyes could not quite make out, something that made their heads ache and trails of blood begin to leak from their eyes and nose.

And oh how the Divine one was horrified, for they begged forgiveness for their unknowing fault as they tried to recall anything their mother had mentioned regarding mortals witnessing the divine, and as they thought and ignored the cries that it was not their fault and was their own failings as mortals that they did not have the vision nece-

And it was at that moment that an idea struck the Shaper.

And so they reached out their hands and called forth wisps of elemental power and pieces of the precious jade that could so easily contain so much of the wondrous power of the world and into each sliver of it did they imbue this great power and then they shaped it further still until they held aloft gleaming gems of elemental might. While the splendor and wonder of the gems they held in their hands would have been plenty enough of a reward for many it was but the base for the true reward they aimed to create.

And unto each of these gems did they bequeath a single drop of their blood, so that they were bound unto them and that those who held close them would be able to see them as they truly were and then and only then did they bestow unto those before them their gifts.

With shaking hands did the first of the group reach out their hand and take hold the gleaming jewel and as it glowed brighter still for but a moment before it dimmed did they lift up their head to look upon the Shaper and they did fall upon their knees with tears of joy leaking from their eyes as they beheld the true face of the divine with awe and splendor.

And so a new era did begin, and the Shaper was pleased.

For many an age would this new era last, as the Shaper aided in establishing bonds between Celestia and the Archons, such that they could work together in their shared goal of keeping the planet ordered.

It was during this time that the twin goddesses of Celestia did approach the Shaper and speak to them of an idea, an idea which prompted for them to call out for their sibling and bid them offer counsel upon it before they delivered their own judgment.

And so did the sibling speak after embracing in reunion and then put to work their minds regarding the idea that had been laid before them by Paimon and Asmoday.

To give out what those who had been given them called “Visions” to the worthiest of mortal souls, and to then, upon their passing, offer unto them a place within the heavens as agents to carry out the will of the divine. Be it as sword and shield or as scholar and healer, they would stand as a legion amidst the heavens to meet out judgment when needed and to enforce order over the world below them.

And for many a long while did the twins ponder and wonder over the idea until at last a consensus was reached betwixt them.

It was agreed that in order to prevent any difficulties occurring with the Guide’s lands, they would allow for only those who met certain criteria to be awarded a vision, and even then they would be given the offer of rest or service upon their passing and not be forced into either.

As for how the people would be judged for their worth for receiving a Vision, the Shaper felt that those who had lead them and who now ruled them would be far better suited to such a task than one who merely cultivated and shaped, for the Shaper knew well that while they did love their children their love would oft blind them to their flaws until events such as what lead to the creation of Celestia arose, for though eons had passed they were yet an innocent soul much like that of a child.

So did the Shaper summon forth the 7 Archons and bestowed unto each the power to grant Visions to those who they deemed worthy of them with criteria of their own devising, and then did they bid them return to their homes with parting embraces and promises of future visits that left the 7 awestruck by their graces kindness for deeming those so far below them worthy of such honors.

And so the wheels would turn and turn, and across the world change began. Visions were granted and progress marched on, and all was well…until it was not. For the Shaper had labored long and hard over the world, and now they felt their weariness grow upon them, and as such they bid unto their followers that they would soon sleep and when they awoke they would make merry again.

And though it grieved their hearts that the most high would be gone asleep, they drew comfort in the knowledge that they would yet be near them even then and that one day they would return and all would be well anew.

And so the Shaper laid down within the halls of Celestia and closed their eyes, dreaming of what wonders the future may hold.

Yet as they dreamt did the wheel ever continue to turn and this next turn was an ill one indeed.

For as they slumbered did a new nation rise, one not allied to any of the 7 or to the heavenly principles above, but rather to themselves and to their own progress. A nation that venerated the night sky and that sought to one day reach out and touch upon those ever distant lights, the nation of Khaenri'ah.

And it was that the 7 watched them closely with the heavens scrutiny ever upon them, for they lacked an Archon that could restrain their ambitions of violence and war should ever they arise in arms and the bear alight torches lit with the flames of war.

And so did many an Archon try and reason with them, and sway them to accept their guidance and aid, such that their great nation may be given the means to truly behold the divine and serve in ordering the world of which they would play a great role and as such claim great rewards.

Yet nay did the people of Khaenri'ah say, for they claimed that if their minds grew enough and their spirits did likewise grow, then without the need of external aid would they be fit to gaze upon the divine in their true form and thus prove that the Duivine need labor no longer and could instead revel amidst their garden in safe joy.

And while the Archons and Twins did feel that their words did betray pride and arrogance, did they respect their goal and applaud them for the conviction that they did hold in their ideals. Yes still they worried, for these people were but mortals and surely a mortal no matter how mighty they might be could ever hope to gaze upon the wondrous awe of the divine's true form with their own bare eyes.

Indeed their doubts were many more as well, for the people of Khaenri'ah were mortals, and the mind of mortals were known well unto the Immortal and Divine who had presided over them for oh so long, and they knew well that the hearts and minds of mortals could oh so easily sway towards violent means and ends.

And Thus was it agreed upon that they would be watched and watched well for even as small and fledgling as they were, and as noble and pure as their goals were, did they yet bear great power and the potential for even great might to yet be theirs, might and power such that what the Shaper had worked so hard to order could well be undone anew.

For many an age were they let grow as the Shaper slept and dreamt, until there came a day when the Shaper was roused from their slumber, for their dreams had been disturbed by the gentle voice of their mother calling out to them, telling them that soon her work would be done and soon would they be together anew, and that she came both with two who had been made to be her aides and companions to ease her own loneliness and with news that the Guide was soon to finish with their own ordering of the planes beyond life and that soon they would be together again.

And oh how the Shaper rejoiced! For such things did they know their mother could tell them and show them, such wonders and sights that lay within the cosmos and beyond the fragile realm they had cultivated. Perhaps their mother would recreate some of them to show them? Or perhaps they could gather their yet working kin and travel to see them in person? And oh how the idea of meeting those who had journeyed with their mother made them smile with joy, for any who would aid their mother were kin and friend to them.

And their heart did sing at the thought of their twin who had labored for oh so long to make lands where those who had lived so long and born such great burdens to rest and cast aside their burdens in joy. Oh how they had missed their wisdom and guidance and oh how they longed to have their counsel without the guilt of taking them from their responsibilities.

And soon all of these and more would come true!

Thus did the Shaper awaken and set about ensuring that their home was ready and that all was ordered so that they may enjoy the world and all of the beauties and wonders that the Shaper had prepared for them with no fear of flame and blood igniting anew in conflict and despoiling their garden.

At first did the Shaper visit with the twins and the host which had come together under their shared banner within Celestia, great scholars and warriors alike who fell upon their knees and at the sight of the most high who soon bid them rise with a flush of embarrassment upon their face.

And long did they stay with the two who they had made so long ago and listen to their tales of how the world had changed amidst their dream filled reverie, and bask in the presence of both the two who had been their friends for oh so long and all of those who had vowed themselves to their service, a thought which made them flush in embarrassment and yet tearful in joy at the same time.

And spoon thereafter did they call forth the 7 and there was much joy and revelry as they traded their tales of the world and of kith and kin and how so much had changed and yet so much had likewise stayed the same with the Shaper who did in turn tell them of the coming of the Mother and the Guide, news which brought all those who had gathered upon the great island to weep with great joy and spurred forth further revelry.

And though long and of many joyful topics they did speak as they reveled, inevitably the revels ended and their conversations came to be swayed and shifted unto the matter in regards to the nation that did lay below them upon the world and of just what should be done in regards to it before the Mother and the Guide arrived.

The Shaper was first worried, for these people bore not Archon to guide them, and had mastered such strange and wondrous things that even the Shaper had not seen in their long life and they feared yet that though they did appear to be civil and just, they would yet fall prey to that most cardinal of flaws of mortals and let their greed swell and set alight their garden once more.

And thus did the Shaper linger and ponder over this problem for many a day, until at last there came a moment when they did hear from the city that which they had not expected. For there from the godless nation did rise a prayer, devoted not unto the 7 Archons or to the Twins or any of the myriad who did dwell upon Celestia but rather a prayer that was directed unto them.

And they listened and and they heard the words spoken by the people of the nation below them and they did hear what their hearts did sing out for and what their souls did seek, what all of their great and mighty powers had been bent unto achieving.

To gaze upon the face of the Divine as mortals, free of the need for external tampering so that they may stand as proof that the direct interference of the gods was no longer needed and that they may pass unto the ages and let the divine rest knowing that their garden is in safe hands.

And oh how the Shaper was moved by their prayers, for such noble thoughts they had and such pure goals, and yet there yet lingered within them a seed of doubt that did swell and grow upon the waters of their fears. For now they knew well that no mortal could lay bare eyes upon the divine and not have their mind rent asunder as those great and mighty souls of old almost had theirs torn apart before they averted their gazes.

And so did they study these strange mortals and the curious powers they bore, and as they did they took great time and care to test and experiment with the powers of the natives of Khaenri'ah and as they did so they came unto a conclusion.

For these powers were drawn from the cosmos themselves, the stars which where their mothers fiefdom and as such was it not possible that they may yet be able to gaze upon them in their full form and thus did they take well a risk for they spoke unto their children and bade them come with them for they would descend upon this nation themselves and test them.

For if they had grown to such heights that they may gaze upon the face of their god and behold it in its truest of forms, then they would be as friend and kin to the Shaper and they would make revel and merry till the Mother came and then all would be well anew.

And so, with but innocent and pure intentions did the Shaper did take unto them a mortal form and descend unto the nation that did lay sprawled below them.

And when they appeared did many draw forth their weapons and demand of them why they had come, and unto them did the Shaper speak in a voice of starlit winds, that they had come as they had been called and thus many of the people demanded of them what it was that they meant.

And lo did the people cast aspersions and hurl stones and glares unto the childlike being before them for how could something so small and innocent be the great and almighty Shaper of their world.

And thus did the Shaper speak to them of the need for the means to conceal their true form lest mortal minds be rent asunder, and lo did they cry for peace even as their first acolytes did gather their power and blades to hew down those who dared speak ill of their great god afore their own eyes.

Thus did one of the people of the nation step forward and speak unto the divine one and bade them show them their true form and let them see and judge for themselves if they were what they claimed to be.

And as the acolytes did cry out and admonish them for their hubris with their powers beginning to swell, did the Great shaper hold up their hand and bid them wait and thus did the Shaper speak unto them that indeed they would take their true form for they held hope that those who had reached unto their mothers domain could see them for who they truly were.

And thus did the Shaper take their true form and lo did many fall upon their knees with tears of joy of the purest kind streaming from their eyes, and they were bid rise and the Shaper did embrace them as friend and kin. Yet others could but squint their eyes and focus as they beheld but the most minute glimpse of the true face of the divine and even with but such a simple glimpse did they fall upon their knees in rapturous glee.

And the Shaper did smile and open their arms to them as well, for though not at the same stage as some of their new and yet already dear friends had they yet reached a point where they could yet glimpse their true face and thus they were likewise embraced as friends.

And then did the 7 lower their guards and the twins breath great sighs of relief as they saw that perhaps their fears had been for not, and that they may yet have been greatly mistaken in their handling of the situation with these mortals.

And just as they did lower their weapons, and just as their heads lifted and gazed to the skies as they felt well the coming presence of the other two Great Ones and twin presences that though great and mighty were not of the same caliber as the two, did calamity strike.

For the Shaper did look upon another one of the kin of Khaenri'ah and open their arms to embrace them, but for the glint of steel to tear through their skin, ichor beginning to pour from the wound as they lifted their head in stunned shock to see the maddened and frenzied eyes of the one who before them stood, one whose mind could not and would not accept what it saw and whose spirit had not yet grown enough to behold the divine...one who was but one of many.

For then there came upon them blade and arrow and spell, and then did the city alight anew with those horrid flames as the 7 roared out in rage and grief and the Twins did draw forth their power and descend as the sky began to burn in wrath.

And as those who were yet loyal took the limp body of their god and tried their best to mend their wounds, did the Shaper yet ask with tears streaming from their eyes as they looked at the nation around them.

“Why? Why oh great people of this great nation? Was not to see me thy wish? Was not to behold my visage they desire? Oh why is it that so many of you can see me and yet so many more cannot? Why...why...we could have been...as kin...” Their words began to trail off as they began to cough up great plumes of ichor, for though divine they may be, the form they had taken to descend was mortal in nature, and thus were they yet bound unto the law of mortality but not as we may be, for though their body may die their soul may never and would instead slumber till it regained itself and was ready to return.

And yet did this offer to the 7 and the Twins and the yet faithful of the city that now lay ablaze around them no comfort, for their hearts rent and tore as their gods eyes began to close even as from on high there came a great and might scream that did shake the earth and did make the mountains fall and the seas swirl and churn and the skies part unto the void of the Mother’s domain.

The last words that did leave the Shaper’s lips as they passed unto a deep slumbering death and felt upon them the hands of their sibling and mother holding them tight were-

“...Ma…ma…please…pl…please…don’t kill…those…who…saw…me…it is..not…their…fault” And lo did the Shaper fade into the deep sleep of death and the Mother and Guide did wail their grief anew as the nation around them lay in ruins.

And yet as her rage did grow and swell in frigid malice, even as her heart did break and shatter, did the Mother grant her child’s wish, for not all of the nation of Khaenri'ah would fall that day.

For those, who had seen the face of her child and had yet offered aid to them as they lay dying did the Mother spare from death and yet did she speak unto them that they would now walk the world eternally, for the blood of her child had into their skin seeped, and as her child had bid her she would not grant them death.

She spoke that none may slay them, and that they would be let live and live with the guilt of failing to save her child as their punishment, until such a day as they were forgiven by the Shaper themselves, and then would she judge them anew.

And the Guide did give but silent agreement, for their voice had been stolen upon the winds of grief as they held fast the fading body of their sibling, desperately holding fast their soul so that amidst infinity they would not be lost.

And for those who did see her child but partly, and yet did not raise their blades but who had still failed did she lay upon a curse even as she spared their lives. For they would never again walk under the light, but dwell in the darkness beneath, bound not by death but cursed to live as monstrous beings who would only be freed by the forgiveness and grace of their child. And unto them did she bid for one of the twin stars to take reign and to shackle and bind them so that they would not run rampant and so the Star did nod and take reign as their prince and lead them below the world to await their day of Judgment.

And for the rest…did she but raise her hand, and bid the stars to fall upon them even as her remaining star did draw her blade and alongside of the 7 and the twins waded forth to stain the oceans a sanguine red.

Yet death would offer for them no reprieve, for their souls would be bound and anchored to realms beyond where those who dared affront her children would languish in misery and pain everlasting, till their self was lost and their souls wiped clean so that a new chance may be given for them to learn the error of their ways.

And thus did the curtains of time fall upon Khaenri'ah and an age of splendor and abundant wonder did pass in tragedy and grief for all of the world now mourned.

The winds bore no joy, but a melancholic longing for what could have been. For Freedom meant little when those one wished most, were not there to savor it with them. And though the Lyre was strummed and songs were sung, gone was their joy and melancholy did instead hold court over them.

The mountains shook anew until sorrow bid them stop and the earth froze in horror and guilt. And the Earth did form a new Contract to tend to the dead and embrace them as it longed to once more embrace one who was gone.

Lightning did roar and thunder did crash as the tears fell from on high as Transience gave way to desperate Eternity which sought to take the Visions of those they deemed unworthy as they sought to find a way to stand Eternally till the day they were reunited again.

Knowledge did burn in grief and from the ash did a Flower rise to gaze longingly to the sky. Wishing to hear the stories of old and ancient times from lips that would not speak for many an age.

Waves crashed as Justice wept, and tore forth its sight in penance for its blindness to a threat it could have never known, as it lost itself to the crashing echoes of dreams of a deep past and an embrace it longed to sink into like the deep Waters of the sea.

Wrath and rage did swell the Flames of War which burned and burned ever brighter still, to forge a crucible of War from which great guards would rise that history would never again repeat itself. And so did War turn upon themself and into bloodshed did they descend to rise anew as a worthy guard.

And Love did fade for the one that it held most dear was gone, and in its place grew Grief and longing to repay the debt of love once so freely given, love which warmed a land now frozen in Ice as it’s ruler now wished they could have frozen those precious moments when they were together and whole.

And for long would this endure, until such a day as with their power recovered did the Shaper wake from their sleep of Death to a world much changed, a star in mortal flesh greeting them with a smile upon their face and tears within their eyes as they held them close.

And the Shaper and the Star did take to the abse earth, for the great one’s power was faded and they did not yet have the strength to ascend unto the cosmos anew and to rise unto Celestia above to seek their Mother and Sibling, whose wrath and grief was so great, that once spent it did lay upon them great weariness and depression and they did slip into dream and slumber till their blood did afore them stand again.

Thus did the Star seek to restore unto the Great One their power by journeying forth unto the 7 lands and collecting the vessels of great power they had been given upon their anointment as Archons many ages ago, a task they shared with emissaries of a frozen land.

And lo did they travel far and and wide, across the whole of the breadth of the world did they go, and much joy and merriment there was for those whose Vision did let them see what truly was by the Traveler’s side for they knew that their god had come back unto them and that a new age could dawn.

And how carefree and joyful they were, for long had it been since the Shaper did fall into the sleep of death and long had the 7 and the 2 had time to mend and fix their errors and mistakes in how they had allowed for the world to perceive their Shaper.

For across the lands lay many a statue of their Shaper, both in the form they truly bore and in the form they appeared to those who lacked the vision to truly behold them in, and long and hrd di preachers and clerics and scholars speak and elucidate on the flaw of mortals to not truly see the divine and of how they should not let what mortal eyes and senses told them to lead them astray, and bid them not repeat the errors of the past. Though the Shaper did find the Statues to be somewhat too flattering at times and did oft bow their heads to hide their flattery at what their acolytes did think of them.

And so did many force their bleeding eyes to gaze upon the divine and through the tears of blood and pain were they granted a reward for their great faith and trust in that the mighty one did lay upon them their hand and mend their torn minds and organs and they were given but a moment to behold the truest of the Divine’s forms and upon its sight did they weep not blood but tears of joy and rapture.

And yet all was not well, for many were there whose faith was fairweather and whose loyalty was thin as a sheet of parchment, and many more did see not the divine and holy but something demonic and abhorrent when they did upon the Shaper gaze and their heresy they did spread across the lands as cancer and plague.

For how could this being be the great Shaper of old? How could this being, whose form did make their eyes bleed, and whose voice did make their ears bleed, and whose presence did drive the monsters and beasts of the world out of their caves and pits to follow them as loyal dogs be the one who would usher them into abundance and prosperity?

Nay did they think, nay did they say, for this could not be the most holy. Surely this being could not be that which came from on high to guide them forth in prosperity.

‘Perhaps it is a demon of some kind’, mused some of them, for surely with the Great Mother and Guide asleep and their Archons wracked with grief and guilt of the past, surely this was but an outside threat that had seeped into their world and manipulated them so that it might corrupt them to its service. For did their eyes not see horns and wings? And did they not see the way it stopped outside of holy places and lowered its head in shame and fear?

‘It must have them enspelled,’ was the thought that ran through the heretics minds and ‘We must free them,” was the rallying cry that would lead to a tragedy whose scope and scale would echo throughout the cosmos for eons to come.

For there would yet come a day when the Great Shaper and their acolytes were approaching the great cathedral of Mondstadt, certain of their safety and security amidst the faithful who had gathered their to celebrate the day that their great one would once more rise to the heavens and wake the Mother and Guide to usher forth a new age, that a great heresy would commit the most cardinal of sins.

For there came forth great commotion across the breadth of Teyvat, for the heretics dared not to allow for what they perceived as a demon to rise to the heavens and dare stand before the divine and corrupt them to their side, and as such did they rise in open rebellion. And fierce battle did erupt within the City of Freedom in particular, where faithless did hurls flaming bottles and blades and stones upon the Shaper as they charged to meet the noble acolytes in battle. The mighty 7 did surge forth to meet the faithless, who had taken upon themselves stolen powers and artifacts to meet them in battle, as the noble acolytes did clash with those they had thought of as kith and kin but a moment ago.

And across all of Teyvat did kin upon kin turn as their nations ignited in war once more, with great warriors of the faith wading forth to meet the faithless in battles that did leave great rivers and lakes of blood spreading across the once gleaming cities and verdant plains. The beasts of the world and the spawn of the abyss did rise to meet the faithless alongside of the faithful, with ancient wars and feuds being cast aside for the sake of their noble goal of protecting the faith.

And long did this battle last until there came a great and mighty scream that did rend the heavens and shake the earth as all did fall to their knees in despair and terror as across the world did travel and great and mighty wave that did instill in them grief and despair immeasurable as the light of the sky did dim and the world did rage with great storms forming amidst an eye blink and mighty mountains falling as the world raged in despair.

For within the city of Mondstadt, upon the very steps that lead to their sacred cathedral, did a faithless slip forth from the shadows and imaple the most holy with a spear and a luciferian smile upon their face as the city fell silent.

First did the faithless think they had at last achieved a noble and holy goal of felling a demon that did dare manipulate the servants of the divine, only to soon realize the truth of their actions when there did fall upon the ground an ichor that gleamed with jewel like stars and nebulae amidst radiant cold and onyx black and lustrous silver, from the horrid wound.

And lo did the spear fall from the hands of the faithless as great cries of grief and rage came from the 7 and those whose Visions did yet gleam as they tore through the faithless who had begun to fall upon their knees with mad pleas beginning to spill from their lips.

And lo did the acolytes gather round their fallen lord and pour forth all of their efforts to mend and heal them, only for it to fail as the great Shaper did begin to fade into a sleep of death which would bare them away from Teyvat, for their sibling was not there to hold fast their soul and bins it to them and their faithful and to the very world so they would not be lost amidst infinite realms as they were reborn.

And did the Shaper reach out their hands and into the hands of their loyals Stars did they bequeath the great vessels of power, and speak unto them to rise into the heavens anew and to wake their mother and sibling that they could watch over the world, even as their faithful did tell them that they would be well with tears streaming from their eyes.

And then did the Shaper speak aloud their last words as they did fade into the infinite branches of Creation, to be reborn anew somewhere amidst them.

“I…I’m sorry…I can’t stay…please know…I love you all…please let my kin know…I love them too…I am sorry…so…sorry that I…have…to…to…go…I…love…you…all…”

And then did the Shaper fall still as a great pulse did travel from their body and across the whole of the world.

And did great stillness and silence descend upon the world as the twin stars did ascend unto the heavens with a beam of brilliant light, the body of their beloved held tight between them as they did so.

And from the heavens did their come forth great cries and wails of grief and pain that did resound across the whole of the cosmos and make all of those that did hear them fall to their knees in pain and grief for they knew well what the sounds did mean.

And from the heavens did they descend anew unto the world with wrath and fury and grief and despair fueling them anew as they parted the skies unto the void and called forth all of the great hosts that had amassed, from the faithful who had risen to serve the divine to the honored dead who held their faith firm did they come forth as a tide of wrath.

And where there should have been a day of great rejoicing and plenty as the dead were let walk the world anew to be with their kin and their maker, was there not but tears and wrath as the divine did visit upon the faithless great and terrible vengeance.

For did the Mother call forth her power and lay upon the very blood of the faithless and their kith and kin who had not stood beside her child her fury.

And her fury did form as a curse such that the sun would never again shine upon them and the world would ever be dark afore their eyes and what they could see would be but corpses and rotting foul things, and that the winds would but bear the stench of blood and smoke and the foul stench of decay and rot, and that all foodstuffs and water would taste as but blood and ash and rotting meat and bile, and then did she curse them to ever feel blood upon their skin and for all sounds to be as thunder and fury within their ears as all pleasure was stripped from them and instead was endless pain laid upon them.

And then did she place upon them great and terrible shackles that did bind them to the faithful and loyal, for she knew well many ways to call forth her child from whatever distant corner of Creation they had been cast, and knew well that she would need fuel for her spells and rites and she would need many hands and many many bodies to form the base stone of a world fit for her child.

Fuel and bodies that the faithless would bever be, for though they had failed to save the life of her child, did they yet stand beside them with zeal and loyalty against even their own kith and kin, and they did suffer and bleed as they fought to save her child from the designs of their mad kith and kin.

And so unto them she gave authority over the faithless who were bound unto them, and did reach out her arms and embrace them as kin to her and her children and did raise them to serve amidst the heavens, for no longer would she let the mortals run without her personal gaze, for now they would be under her ever watchful eyes.

And lo did those who had fought for the faith rise forth as angels and gods anew and their names were forever etched into the annals of greatness.

Albedo, God of Alchemy

Amber, Goddess of the Hunt

Arataki Itto, God of Challenges

Barbara, One of the three Goddess of Song and the Goddess of Healing

Beidou, Goddess of the Seas

Bennet, God of Fortune

Chongyun, God of Exorcism

Dainsleaf, God of Survival

Diluc, God of Judgment

Diona, Goddess of Drink

Eula, Goddess of Vengeance

Fischl, Goddess of Fantasy

Ganyu, Goddess of Labor

Gorou, God of Strategy

Hu Tao, Goddess of Funerals

Jean, Goddess of Duty

Kaedehara Kazuha, God of Poetry

Kaeya, God of Allure

Kamisato Ayaka, Goddess of Ceremony

Kamisato Ayato, God of Ceremony

Keqing, Goddess of Potential

Klee, Goddess of Explosions

Kujou Sara, Goddess of Loyalty

Kuki Shinobu, Goddess of Subterfuge

Lisa, Goddess of Knowledge

Mona, Goddess of Scrying

Ningguang, Goddess of Wealth

Noelle, Goddess of Devotion

Qiqi, Goddess of Medicine

Razor, God of Beasts

Rosaria, Goddess of Shadows

Rosalyne-Kruzchka Lohefalter, Goddess of Wrath

Sangonomiya Kokomi, Goddess of the Depths

Sayu, Goddess of Slumber

Shenhe, Goddess of Calamity

Sucrose, Goddess of Study

Tartaglia, God of Battle

Thoma, God of Friends

Teppei, Great Angel of Growth

Xiangling, Goddess of Food

Xiao, God of Karma

Xingqiu, God of Blades

Xinyan, One of the three Goddesses of Song, and Goddess of Revelry

Yae Miko, Goddess of Kitsunes and of Cunning

Yanfei, Goddess of Laws

Yelan, Goddess of Risks

Yoimiya, Goddess of Joy

Yun Jin, One of the three Goddess of Song, and Goddess of the Theater

Lumine and Aether, God and Goddess of the Stars

And as the last of the worthy did ascend in glorious apotheosis and were reunited with their loved ones who were returned unto them, did she speak unto the 7 to take reign over the faithless and bestow unto them their own punishments and to then bind them in labor to rebuild all that they had laid low greater than it was before as she and the Guide did work to bring home their missing kin.

And lo did the 7 stretch out their hands in wrath upon the faithless of their nations, and their punishments for their wickedness and heresy were great and terrible indeed.

For did Barbatos of Mondstadt cast those who had taken their freedom for granted into the dirt and had their feet bound in shackles and they were made to dig forth tunnels and caves and to live as worms below the ground in darkness absolute, for their freedom and their right to it were both stricken from them. For as faithless worms they had lived and so would they so endure forevermore, miring in filth and waste below the earth never to again know the winds they coveted so.

And did Morax of Liyue turn his wrath upon the faithless of his land and bid them be bound in chains and shackles and to labor within mines and deep recesses of the earth to call forth gems and wealth to adorn the temple palaces of their Shaper and that upon their last breath they would be turned unto statues of metals and gems to be harvested by their own kith and kin and even in death would they feel the pain of the chisel and the pick as they were broke apart and made into offerings for the most holy.

And did Baal and Beelzebub of Inazuma lay upon the faithless of their lands searing brands of lightning that would ever arc and crackle with their wrath as they did bid the faithless to serve forevermore to rebuild all ruins of the Eternal nation, from recent ages and ages long since past with the lightning serving as the foremans lash. And that they would be cursed with Transient lives that would be oh so short, and both man and women were cursed with Eternal pregnancies that their fleeting lives would not end their servitude till no longer were they needed to build and sculpt in honor of the most high.

And did Minos of Fontaine cast upon her faithless people her wrath, for their crimes would ever be carved unto their skin and their eyes would be taken from them and their tongues cut, and each would have a single ear taken from them that they may yet hear the orders that they would follow till the end. For they would ever serve as base builders and crafters and thralls for those above them who would likewise work to make evr more wondrous inventions and works of art for the day the Shaper did return, and at the end of their worthless lives would they be bound with the weight of their sins and cast into the depths of the Waters of Fontaine to drown in their sins.

And did Kusanali of Sumeru lay upon the faithless of her people a curse such that ever would poisoned and barbed flowers grow from their bodies and that all knowledge would be forbade from being taught unto them and that they would be used to grow and well what was known and what could be known as subjects for test and research. And at the end of their lives would those who yet lived be buried to their head within the soil, and from them would grow great and wondrous plants and flowers that would serve to fill the gardens of the Shaper’s palace as they were plucked from their bodies, that would live from the nutrients of the soil and would feel every flower torn from them and every piece of bark that would be torn from the trees that some would become, and replanted in said gardens.

And did Murata of Natlan visit upon the faithless of her people blazing chains of fire that would ever sear and burn their flesh, and then did she bind them to serve as the builders of great fortresses and smiths of great weapons of war and machines of battle such that the Shaper would never again be unprotected. And when age or injury did make them unable to serve as builders and smiths would they be either bound to serve as subjects for their weapons to be tested upon, or would they be made to serve as servants for her great warriors. And when they did fall would their bodies be cast into forges that they may be made into weapons that would ever scream in pain and agony when they did strike upon something, or they may be ground into mortar to be used by their kith and kin to build greater fortresses and citadels to stand as shields for the faithful and their great Shaper.

And lo did Ipos, the Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya, cast upon the faithless of her people great shackles and collars of ice that would ever freeze to their skin and would strip from them all warmth and joy as they would serve as laborers for the faithful of her land to use so that they may focus on growing their army to greater strengths and height, such that never will their Shaper again have to fear their weakness leading them to fail in protecting them. And they would be made to live in caves and pens within the snow and ice, and no warmth and shelter was to be gifted unto them, and they would forever be made to serve as subjects for greater devices of war and new medicines to be tested upon.

And they would be barred from walking upon their feet and would instead crawl upon all four of their limbs as the rodents and vermin of the world do, and they would have from them their names stripped and would instead be known as mere vermin themselves. And when their lives did end, would they be frozen in ice with some becoming great statues outside of their kin’s dens and hovels to ever remind them of their faithlessness, and other beings frozen into the flagstones of the homes of the faithful and her own palace, so that they may ever be reminded that the faithful stand above the faithless.

And they would labor to build a greater world so that when their Shaper did return, the would be awed by the majesty of the world that they had crafted for them and they would know that they would never again need fear for their safety for they would be ready for all eventualities and would have well the weapons and tools to defend their great one from all threats.

And when the Mother and Guide did find their kin and bring them home, would they make revelry and joy for never again would they allow for their beloved Shaper to be taken from them-

By Lack of a Vision

Over 10K words and almost half a month of writing and we are finally done with an idea that we could have done in under 1k words.

Oh boy do our fingers ache lol.

We hope you enjoyed this darker take on our previous ideas, and that you don’t mind just how long we ended up making this one out to be in the end.

As always, you are free to use this idea for your own works provided we are mentioned, an @ so that we can enjoy seeing what you have come up with would also be appreciated, and we hope to hear your thoughts and critiques on this idea of ours in the future.

Honestly we are not that satisfied with how rushed the ending seems, and just how close to an Imposter AU it feels as we are not that fond of them. We do draw some comfort from the fact that we have made it to where it is not quite the reader who is the Shaper before their death, but rather their reincarnation who just so happens to be the target of a very protective mother.

We are also not that satisfied with how we tried to incorporate our original idea, that a Vision is needed for one to perceive the true form of the Shaper without suffering ill affects or perceiving them as something they are not i.e. a demon.

Well regardless, we hope everyone has a great day and that you all stay safe. See you in the next post.

- Sincerely TheGreatestShow

#genshin sagau #sagau #genshin impact cult au #genshin impact cult sagau #Au Idea for Sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau cult au #genshin sagau cult au #SAGAU ideas #sagau idea #It has been months since I posted this and I just decided to add more tags #because why not #nomorefstogive has no more braincells to give #genshin impact

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hardestgrove · 2 years ago

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Hopper and the Divine Comedy

this was originally posted in a reblog on a post of mine about people’s reactions to Hopper’s season 4 plotline to reply to @rosy-marvels‘s comments but my too much gene kicked in and I wrote a Whole Thing. I’m reposting it as its own post and editing it slightly so it stands alone and not as a reply so you know, it’ll show in tags n shit. thanks rosy-marvels for prompting this shit you a real one.

for the full context here’s the original post

I think that fighting the demogrogan and really the whole prison storyline is Hopper not just confronting his grief finally but also him breaking out of the metaphorical prison that his life was even before Sara’s death.

I’ve heroically gone thru some transcripts that Netflix put up which are handy but not great for this kinda thing because like, there’s no names, the format is shit. So I’ve you know…. named and formatted for us as best I can. I was gonna then just snip out the bits immediately useful but I’ll put the whole scenes in both because they’re good scenes and it also might help others out. Seriously feel free to just copy paste the transcripts right outta here. Save yourself from my pain.

Enzo: So, that is it? You give up, then? What about your woman, huh? She’s captured, yes, but still alive. We can still save her. Hopper: [clicks tongue] “Save her.” Enzo: That is amusing to you? Hopper: You don’t get it, do you? You don’t get it.The closer I get with Joyce, the more danger she’s in. Enzo: You’re not thinking straight, American.

Hopper: No, I think I am. For the first time in my life, I think I’m thinking straight. I used to think I was cursed. Ever since I was 18. Got some letter of induction in the mail. Uncle Sam wants me to go fight some war in the jungle. Charlie’s moving south like a plague ‘cause of commie bastards like you, and… You know, I’m happy enough to go. Prove to my old man I’m not the piece of shit he thinks I am. I get over there, I must test well, and they put me in the Chemical Corps. There I am. I’m just… a kid, you know. I’m 18 years old, 8,000 miles away, and I’m mixing up these… 55-gallon drums of Agent Orange. With just these kitchen gloves, you know? We used to clean out these buffalo turbines after a run and just be inhaling the stuff. No masks, nothing. “It’s not chemical warfare. It’s just herbicide to kill plants.” “Harmless.” That’s what they told us. Then I got back to real life, and these guys I worked with, the ones that made it back, they started trying to get back to normal, you know? Having families. And then things started going wrong. Kids born stillborn. Dead in the womb. Crooked spines, eyes popped out. The horror… followed us, clung to us.

My wife Diane, she wanted a baby. [sighs] I did too. We had a baby, and she was, um…she was born healthy. She was perfect, you know. Sara. And then she died. It wasn’t an easy death. She… suffered. I knew the risks, but I, um…I hid them. And then Diane left me. She didn’t blame me. Not with words. After that, I was just… I just hid myself in drugs and alcohol. And then people started coming into my life. This girl El, and Joyce just happened, and I told myself they needed me. But that wasn’t true. That’s a lie. They didn’t need me. I needed them. I needed them. You were right, what you said last night. I knew the risks, breaking out of here, but I did it anyway. The minute I sent for Joyce, the minute I sent for her, I sentenced her to death. Just like I did with Sara. Everyone I love, I hurt. See, I was wrong this whole time. I wasn’t cursed. I am the curse.

Enzo: I’ve heard rumors of a monster. From America. I don’t know if what you say is true, American, if you’re truly a cursed man, but you’re right about one thing. We are going to die in here.

In Dante’s Inferno, the 9th circle of hell – the deepest one – is an icy lake and those who committed the sin of treachery are sunken into that ice. The more heinous the betrayal, the deeper you are.

Hopper starts a troubled youth, he’s young, he’s angry. His father doesn’t seem to like or respect him. Then he gets conscripted and he goes off to Vietnam.

After that he’s left fucked up by Agent Orange and he knows what the effects are. He doesn’t tell his wife, because they both want a baby. And they have one. And she dies a long painful death. And it’s his fault. She would not have been born and had to go through all that if he had told his wife about the side effects of Agent Orange.

It’s really one of few times that if someone throws blame on you, it’s not 100% wrong. It was selfish, reckless and a betrayal of his wife and daughter to withhold that information. Note how Enzo is also a traitor too.

(Above: St. Peter at the Gate)

So Hopper is in Hell now! :D

First it’s just you know, drugs and alcohol and unending self-loathing but finally this season he’s in a literal icy hell. This is because it’s now the focus of his story. The guilt. The betrayal.

In some ways he healed already at the end of S1 from Sara’s death with saving Will. I rewatched the series recently and you see all through the Upside Down rescue at the very end of season 1 these flashbacks to Sara and Hopper using all these things he learned to try and help her, only in the end they all failed to save her. But they save Will. Sara’s tragic death is given some kind of meaning, he never could have helped Will the way he did without his experience with Sara. And this time he doesn’t fail. He saves the kid.

And he also heals the Sara wound through being a father to El. He wanted kids. He wanted to be a dad. But because of his time in the war biological kids are off the table. The urge is still there though and it comes through when he looks at Eleven and sees a child in desperate need of someone to love her and keep her safe. The grief of Sara’s death will never magically end for him, but in the narrative sense there’s been resolutions in these events and relationships.

But it’s not same for the guilt, the self loathing, the anger that’s been in him since he was a kid being told he was good for nothing.

So here he is in the deepest circle of Hell. There’s nothing here between him and his thoughts, he is forced to confront himself and his demons. Literally and metaphorically.

The thing with Dante’s Inferno is that everyone only cares about the Inferno but it’s actually only one of the 3 books in Dante’s Divine Comedy. The next is Purgatorio/Purgatory.

Having survived the depths of Hell, Dante and Virgil ascend out of the undergloom to the Mountain of Purgatory on the far side of the world. The mountain has seven terraces, corresponding to the seven deadly sins or “seven roots of sinfulness.” […] Allegorically, the Purgatorio represents the Christian life. Christian souls arrive escorted by an angel, singing In exitu Israel de Aegypto. In his Letter to Cangrande, Dante explains that this reference to Israel leaving Egypt refers both to the redemption of Christ and to “the conversion of the soul from the sorrow and misery of sin to the state of grace.” (wikipedia)

I won’t get into the tasks you have to do as you climb up the mountain because they’re just not relevant here, we’re going for metaphor/metatext not literal. The idea here though is that they have to do things and suffer things and commit themselves to the hard work of penance and purging oneself of sin to raise closer to heaven and eventually ascend.

Here’s quote 2:

Enzo: They will shoot us on sight.

Hopper: We’d die as monster slayers. You’ll be a legend.

Enzo: But still a traitor. You forgot traitor.

Hopper: Monster slayer trumps traitor. I bet Mikhail will be proud of his pops, at least.

Enzo: Mikhail?

Hopper: Mmm.

Enzo: No. I can’t do nothing right with him anymore, it seems. He will say, “Papa, I bet that bald American did most of the monster slaying.”

Hopper: He’s that age, huh?

Enzo: Yeah, he is that age.

[Hopper chuckles]

Enzo: It is same for you, American? With your new daughter?

Hopper: The last time I was with El, she wanted just about nothing to do with me. I was just in her way, really. I think back to the way I was with my dad at that age. I was the same way. The exact same way. I think it must be hardwired into us to reject our fathers. So we can grow and move on. Become something of our own. I hope that’s what she’s doing. Coming into her own. But still–

Enzo: You worry. To worry for our sons and daughters, that is natural, isn’t it?

Hopper: Yeah. But nothing about what El has had to deal with is natural. That beast, that monster in there, it’s a part of something that wants to hurt El. To kill her.

Enzo: I don’t understand.

Hopper: To be honest, neither do I. All I know is that thing… that thing shouldn’t be here. It shouldn’t be alive. Because it is, it means it still isn’t over. I thought I was put here to pay for what I’ve done. But I might’ve been put here for some other reason. Maybe I… maybe I can still help El. Even if it’s the last thing I do.

Enzo: You almost sound religious, American.

Hopper: Religious? I don’t know about that. But maybe I should give that prayer thing a try. 'Cause if we wanna get out of here, get back to El and Mikhail, you and me… we’re gonna need a miracle.

The demogorgon fight is either his Purgatorio moment or the start of that part of his plotline with say, reuniting with El and the Byers kids as the completion of it. Because that would be his heaven– to be with Joyce and their family.

But in fighting the demogorgan he sees a way of showing his sincerity and love and contrition for his betrayals and his many sins against his loved ones and himself. I saw someone make a reference to the divine masculine in tag or something about Steve recently and I got sent to the fucking moon because I haven’t heard that term in years. Basically it’s a more spiritual way of talking about healthy masculinity.

Hopper is a protector at heart, he just wants people to be safe and happy. But he has been rotting on the inside since he was a child with the positive parts of himself being destroyed by anger, fear and later– guilt. He went to war to prove to his old man he wasn’t a piece of shit. But what did he really prove there? Nothing. And it destroyed him physically. That childhood wound that came from a father who likely was to some level toxically masculine is the curse. It’s the thing that’s ruined his life. The anger and the hurt and the fear. it’s all that original wound. The Hopper we see in season 3 who’s all shitty and angry half the time? It’s Hopper becoming his dad and lashing out instead of allowing himself to engage with his inner life.

So he’s failed himself by not trying to heal the childhood wound or be the divine masculine protector in full force as he was meant to be. The demogorgan fight is just two dads trying to save their kids or at least maybe make them a little proud. Hopper himself seems to have finally come through his struggles in Hell come to an inner peace. He’s put his anger and fear to rest and he can see a path to doing something that can help protect the ones he loves and who he has betrayed. Because he did betray people like Eleven, not in the same way as Diana, but he was dishonest to her in Season 2, he even admits it. He was also controlling of her in season 3 and just awful to Joyce in that season lbr. I love Hopper and I didn’t like the way he spoke to her half the time, I didn’t read it as funny married bickering which I do want from them. And he does feel guilt over these things. The demogorgan fight is his atonement. It’s his Purgatorio.

I think it’s not him finding the will to live again, frankly I think Hopper has that in spades even at his lowest points in prison. But I think it’s him finally finding the version of himself he can live with. He’s not “the piece of shit my dad thinks I am” anymore he’s “Eleven’s Father, Joyce’s Lover, Just A Guy”. He’s protecting them in the only way he can now and that’s all he wants to do. To help and protect the people he loves. He will gladly die fighting the demogrogon if it means one less problem for El. But once again like with Will, his experience helps them succeed. He and Enzo both live through the trial by demogrogon because like Ateryu in the Neverending Story they know what they are, they know their own worth. Their hearts are pure. They’re just two dads out here trying their best. This really is a plotline about dad’s winning thus far.

(The Neverending Story reference isn’t just to be a memey ST fan it’s genuine I’ve been pulling this shit for years whenever I can. same with The Last Unicorn.)

In Paradiso/Paradise, Dante is no longer being guided through the Divine by Virgil instead his dead beloved Beatrice guides him through the rings of Heaven (rip Enzo????). And I think that’s why he gets to reunite with Joyce now on his journey. He has been through Hell, he has paid for his sins, he has done his penance and now he being guided by his love because his actions are now coming from love, not anger or fear or hurt.

Now they just you know, gotta get the fuck outta the actual real non-metaphorical prison lol.

#stranger things #stranger things meta #jim hopper #prison hop defense squad rise up

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sparrowofmyheart2 · 3 years ago

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@virtuouscandlelight

{ 🕯 }

“ Jackie, talk to me, dammit. If you’re so upset with my lack of culture then HELP me understand so I can do better for you ! For US ! Do you not want that ? ! “

Wax began to ooze faster as her adrenaline kicked up, the stressed virtue gripping onto the woman’s arm desperately. Tears began to brim, her heart on her sleeve for all the world to witness how much of a sheer fuck up she was on an planet full of foreign people.

“ I am SORRY ! I never MEANT to harm you ! Can you not see I am doing everything in my power to make things RIGHT ? ! It was an HONEST MISTAKE ! So you’re just going to throw all those years we spent out the window like it was NOTHING ? ! Over a MISTAKE I’M WILLING TO LEARN FROM ? ! “

Her voice croaked, the divine wax now glossing down Jackie’s gripped arm.

Eleanor was melting. Not her usual case of melting to subdue high temperatures, but melting melting. When her emotions spiked to dangerous levels of intensity, her ever - burning flames would eat such anxiety up like coal to an inferno.

“ If you do not wish to bond with me through forgiveness and accept the fact I LOVE you — then TELL ME TO LEAVE ! “

Jackie does not break her silence. Even her crew are starting to get worried. She is not one to stay quiet. If she's angry, she's yelling right back.

One young boy, only about twenty, compared to the woman's thirty four, even grips her arm to help calm the angel down. The wax drips on his arm, and it does hurt, but he refuses to move.

He douses her with a bit of water, not enough to wash the wax away, but enough that it might cool her down. Or distract her, at least

Jackie, however, turns around before her emotions show.

Putting this down to a lack of culture, while potentially ringing true, also avoids the issue. She is hurt enough, angry enough that her usual temper is ice cold rather than flaming hot.

Eventually, she fakes a smile, thinking of the baby. This could be dangerous for them. She'll say whatever she has to to prevent this from ending in miscarriage. For her father's sake.

Turning around, words are finally spoken.

"Nothing be wrong," she replies, almost sickeningly sweet, a tone she hardly ever uses, "And there not be somethin' teh forgive."

She then barks a few orders before checking some rope.

Avoidance

#Jackie Sparrow #Virtuouscandlelight #Jackie you are literally lying #I mean tbf it's an aoption

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blackwinged-silversolace · 4 years ago

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Scarlet Tanager

Nearly complete now, Mother.

"YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE…"

Gaia? Do I not? Mother do you hear her suffering as well? Sometimes she calls to you, no? The planet she hears and sings to us, her damnations ring out but she is so misguided ... Perhaps even she fears the end of her own life cycle. Her bleeding veins that bear her traitorous children mingle breed conflict here, she gives them rest, and somehow even as her last defendant merges with her shores she ignores the wound we gouge on her surface, she turns her head as it festers, and wastes her energy to drown us out. Gaia, will you not acknowledge that your plight is and has always been a futile one, you should rest now, make peaceful your lamentations and insufferable wailings and accept your glorious fate with the one who would inherit you. Your bleed is my sustenance.

"NIGHTMARE."

My patience for you grows thin, Minerva, Gaia, your skewed images of warning do not threaten me...

"CALAMITY."

Mother...listen, the voices are thickening in attempt to bury us inside her, this sickened place where we have forged preservation within the stream, our shared abhorrence rooting our stigma even as ages of voices would try to force upheaval unto our vestiges. An annoyance, but not enough to hinder our call, through the rivets my brethren are pervious, among the coagulation their voices are here to make us stronger. Attuned to my impenetrable resolve, even the resistant bend in reverence the closer we get to our freedom, but do you feel it now? Those remnants, they are close, our reunion so near completion….

"DEMON…"

When I am to return, our existence will be stronger, and all insolent traitors that drown her woeful voice, wretches that riddle her circuitry and drill to mine her flesh for lifeblood- that is meant for us, they seek to deny us our claim yet here we are unshaken. She is afraid as any animal would within its snare, the wound bleeding out, but oh how her fear is misguided. Louder than ever before is her thunderous lamentation, does she prepare for this body to lay waste upon her? Ah but now her voice is unheard save for you and I, mother. So the planet sinks, troughs of her soil are so much shallower, her breath is hollow…

Threads are unwinding, the tide recedes, this moment, if he had the mouth to do it Sephiroth would be grinning, the singularity, the between of lifestream and physical manifestation is narrowing, his rebirth dawning. There, the place of rest, of purgatory among the rock, and the familiar sky alight with starry cosmos he is nearly complete once again, the ache of limbs rebuilt with godlike power are a sensation like no other. But no chance is had for savoring this celestial beginning, for he….he... is not alone. It is that of a dream, the distance, and the clarity of the voice that pierces the air.

"You are a monster…"

There is no body to hone in on, to vessel to lay his narrowed gaze upon beside his own...but the voice is clear. Indisputable. A memory, no doubt. Was it given with purpose? Or is the planet attempting petty manipulation in its late and desperate hours?

"Perfect Monster…."

The ethereal silver form recoils, blistering ice spearing his once centered thoughts with biting agony, this was not a part of his scheme, pain did not fit within the woven destiny, but there was nothing to dispute it’s echo. The wound...is deep, old. Fire in his bones, his emptiness quakes upon the impossibility -this frozen inferno… only, his urge to purge this presence was washed as instant as it rose…. The knowing whisper in his mind is correct, his beloved mother shushing her son’s rage... for did he not neglect one of his own?

“Kin, do you hear me, your lifeforce is not forgotten” who, where are you, whisper to me as I forge this body to our mother's image once more, tie me to the planet's surface….tie me to the last that is my own of this living crust, oh tiresome crystal grave. The puppet has done most well, but where is it you cover yourself as blackened power merges with my remains, my eternal resolve, this body will merge anew. Where. Are. You.

Closing his eyes the Nightmare seeks through the threads of lifestream, oh how the voices cry out as he scours through them, his cataclysm’s re entrance is dark and splitting against the soft threads of light, searching the tendrils for that...one missing piece.

There are fragments: Black wings, asleep, no- drugged, but how long? Contained, recently perhaps, drowned in mako and glass. Ah but this place he knows well... Deep ground? Hmm. Scarlet hair carried wistfully through the liquid.

GENESIS

Yes. Of course. The memory gains shape, all details and forms hazed beneath layers of a different time, another life, but the source of injury was made clear yet again...if he were the same vulnerable, manipulable soul, if he had not died on that seventh day, then maybe he would have let the other rot as promised...but Sephiroth was not the same, words and finalizations such as ‘monster’ could not sway his purpose, could not hold candle to his resolve. After all, what reunion would be final without HIM.

Have they clipped your wings? Or is it you who locked yourself away, my sweet song bird? Is this where you are hidden Scarlet Tanager, dearest brother? Should you lack home, then it is I who will provide, you will not go wasted.

Some deliberation is necessary,

Most unexpected, this waking desire to reclaim. Oh but there is power in that memory, new and old, foreign and evolved from the familiar. Something through his fingers, through his divine senses that distant presence spoke of necessity, of use and rite the same as was the power that saturated his spirit, and his tie to the planet. Would it ring terrible memory to his beloved kin if faced with the ‘monster’ he helped create, one can find pleasure in that, would he find dread if kept for this grand conquest? Perhaps. But made true in our most vulnerable, are we not? You more than any should know this, Genesis. Then it would be perfect.

So, the essential divergence from his path was set, and Deepground would be paid a visit.

There is a crackle within the underground laboratory, static tangible, men in lab coats scramble away from the intrusion, shouting and tearing their legs pathetically, in all directions they flee in chaotic disarray as the dull light wafts into a large mass. Black, and green tendrils rising from the floor to engulf the space as oxygen itself protests the tearing of fabric, space, time, splitting matter and element to make wide the opening for the return of Calamity’s chosen Son.

The voices mutter, some, scream, but so faceless and belittled, they are disregarded as the plume takes form, solid unwavering he emerges. Proud, motivated, the Silver haired entity is whole, clad in leather, masamune reflecting the faces marred in horror, green slitted gaze casts over the mass of fear only once, “Genesis.” He demands, but no answer is given, looks passed every which way, he is already upon them... then the murmurs are silenced.

One by one those who litter his path are cut down, his eyes need not land on them, they are nothings, they are tread same as the concrete, they are liquid, and sinew with as much purpose as rodents… yet, room after room his prize is not found, and the red wastes of flesh and life are at his heels, glistening and reflecting the narrowed frustration in his focus. “Hmn, Where are you?”

@unforestalledreturn

#here it be #one gracefully grudge driven post cc seph #starter #rp:scarlettanager #ff7 rp #sephiroth rp #genesis rp #crystal emerged seph

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imagahub · 3 years ago

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Famously Creepy Sayings from Books

Here are some of the scariest quotes of all time, drawn from books over the years. Enjoy this creepy list curated by the Imagahub review team.

“Hope not ever to see Heaven. I have come to lead you to the other shore; into eternal darkness; into fire and into ice.”

Inferno (Dante Alighieri)

“Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and caldron bubble.”

Macbeth (William Shakespeare)

“O little one, My little one, Come with me, Your life is done. Forget the future, Forget the past. Life is over: Breathe your last.”

Abarat (Clive Barker)

“Some teeth long for ripping, gleaming wet from black dog gums. So you keep your eyes closed at the end. You don’t want to see such a mouth up close. before the bite, before its oblivion in the goring of your soft parts, the speckled lips will curl back in a whinny of excitement. You just know it.”

The Ritual (Adam Nevill)

“Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore. ‘Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,’ I said, ‘art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore – Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!’ Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.'”

The Raven (Edgar Allan Poe)

“Despite my ghoulish reputation, I really have the heart of a small boy. I keep it in a jar on my desk.”

Robert Bloch

“I laugh maniacally, then take a deep breath and touch my chest – expecting a heart to be thumping quickly, impatiently, but there’s nothing there, not even a beat.”

American Psycho (Bret Easton Ellis)

“Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!”

Dracula (Bram Stoker)

“Full circle. A new terror born in death, a new superstition entering the unassailable fortress of forever. I am legend.”

I Am Legend (Richard Matheson)

“Walls have ears. Doors have eyes. Trees have voices. Beasts tell lies. Beware the rain. Beware the snow. Beware the man You think you know.”

Songs of Sapphique (Catherine Fisher)

“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.”

The Tempest (William Shakespeare)

“We ask only to be reassured About the noises in the cellar And the window that should not have been open.”

The Family Reunion (T.S. Eliot)

“There are horrors beyond life’s edge that we do not suspect, and once in a while man’s evil prying calls them just within our range.”

The Thing on the Doorstep (H.P. Lovecraft)

“Last night I saw upon the stair, A little man who wasn’t there, He wasn’t there again today Oh, how I wish he’d go away…”

Antigonish (William Hughes Mearns)

“The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door…”

Knock (Fredric Brown)

“Naughty John, Naughty John, does his work with his apron on. Cuts your throat and takes your bones, sells ’em off for a coupla stones.”

The Diviners (Libba Bray)

“I am like a small creature swallowed whole by a monster, she thought, and the monster feels my tiny little movements inside.”

The Haunting of Hill House (Shirley Jackson)

“Blood is really warm, it’s like drinking hot chocolate but with more screaming.”

Zombie Haiku (Ryan Mecum)

For plenty more thrilling horror, check out Imagahub today.

#books #ebooks #imagahub review #imagahub reviews

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birdhaslostit · 1 year ago

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QUOTES FROM THE INFERNO : INFESTISSUMAM LYRICS

In the middle of the journey of our life I found myself within a dark woods where the straight way was lost. : Through scapes of murmur, noisy walls of sound / Without a starlit night, shores nowhere to be found / On seas of wonder ye confused strays / Without a guiding light you see no ways

For pride and avarice and envy are the three fierce sparks that set all hearts ablaze. : I am the one who preys on weak / I offer everything they seek / And I am the one who comes richly endowed / Harvesting crops of fields that others have plowed

Hope not ever to see Heaven. I have come to lead you to the other shore; into eternal darkness; into fire and into ice. : Oh, Satan, devour us all / Hear our desperate call / Per Aspera Ad Inferi

Through me is the way to the city of woe. Through me is the way to sorrow eternal. Through me is the way to the lost below. Justice moved my architect supernal. I was constructed by divine power, supreme wisdom, and love primordial. Before me no created things were. Save those eternal, and eternal I abide. Abandon all hope, you who enter. : He will tremble the nations / Kingdoms to fall one by one / Victim to fall for temptations / A daughter to fall for a son / The ancient serpent deceiver / To masses standing in awe / He will ascend to the heavens/ Above the stars of God

Soon you will be where your own eyes will see the source and cause and give you their own answer to the mystery. : Into the eyes of fire, into the gaze ablaze / Into the burning light of Satan's rays / Into the source of wisdom, beyond the Bible lies / Into the endless depth of Satan's eyes

You did thirst for blood, and with blood I fill you : The bitter taste is sweet / So eat Nazarene and you kiss the obscene / Anointed feet / His body and blood, sharing in common, his body and blood

I had a revelation. Look at this.

Dante Alighieri versus Secondo.

SOMETHING IS THERE. This might have been intentional. Look at their noses and profile. They are strikingly similar.

I always thought Secondo looked familiar, but I never could figure out who it was (not just Pitbull) until just now. It hit me like a ton of bricks when I realized. I’ve seen Dante’s death mask in person, as well as several other works depicting Dante. Their faces are definitely similar, especially the nose. I can’t be the only one who sees this.

Tobias may have done this intentionally, but I don’t know for sure. Am I the only person who’s noticed this?

And to further expand on this theory, wouldn’t it be cool if Dante Alighieri was the founder of the Emeritus line? There’s no precedent or evidence for it, but it’s an interesting concept.

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ffxiv-ariavitali · 4 years ago

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HC: The Eighth Umbral Calamity

Because apparently ya’ll wanna cry LOL

Shadowbringer spoilers | Alternate universe: If G’raha Tia and the Ironworks did not do research on the Crystal Tower and allowed the Eighth Umbral Calamity to run its course

special thanks to @haylin-chan , @sage-just-loves-elves and @windup-dragoon for enabling me like this. further thank you to everyone that liked the cursed post

i’ll be collecting my jars of tears now.

AO3 ver.

❅ ❅ ❅

Premise: With the aid of you, the Warrior of Light, the Garleans had been pushed back, line by line, across accursed Ghimlyt Dark to the point where it was deemed that the Resistance would be able to fully wrestle control and claim victory by the turn of the season. As a result, the ally nations within the Eorzean and Far Eastern Alliance withdrew from the battlefield in order to return to their nation-state and to shore up defenses for any future hostilities that the Garlean Empire would retaliate with.

However, the nation leaders forgot the most important—and more arguably most dangerous—aspect of mortal kind: their irrational unpredictability and desperation when they are backed up too far into the corner. By this logic did the Empire rain hell on the battlefield with the toxic gas, its potency inexplicably high and spared no one along the way…

...Not even you, Warrior of Light. For when you had heard that your comrades were falling by the tens, by the hundreds, you had rushed to the front line as quickly as you could. You took precautions, your entire order did, that you thought would serve as defense against the poison, but it did not work.

It did not work.

❅ ❅ ❅

[Aymeric]

The Black Rose spared no one on the front. It had been but a fortnight since he had returned to Ishgard when he received the news that the toxic gas had been let loose on the field and he couldn’t help the cold churning within his gut that something was going terribly, terribly wrong.

It was for this reason that he often visited Saint Reymanaud’s Cathedral. He prayed and he prayed to blessed Halone to show mercy, to offer Her guidance and protection in this most delicate of times. War often brought with it bloodshed of immeasurable quantities and faith in the divine had never been higher. Aymeric knew this. He knew this.

In the end, his prayers were not answered for the sight of you utterly destroyed him.

They brought your body back from the warzone and as you lay on the cold metal table, he swore that you were just asleep. Despite the wails of utter mortification, of pain and anger, from the Fortemps family—predominantly that of Lord Edmont, for the pain of losing yet another child of his family must be shattering him from within—he wanted to shake you awake because you appeared just as you always do when you would lie with him together in bed, so peaceful and so serene.

Yet, when he touched you—a palm against your cheek in the gentlest of manners, as if you were but a porcelain doll ready to fragment and shatter at any given moment—you were cold as ice.

Aymeric has never felt so empty, so broken, as if a dragon’s talon was impaling him over and over again without cease. The frustration within him broiled as if he was thrown into a blazing inferno for a sin he had not committed. In this entire ordeal, the same thoughts ring over and over again in his mind:

Why has the Fury forsaken us? Have we not suffered enough? Why did you go alone?

Why was I not there with you?

In his frustration, and after a few punches to the wall, Aymeric takes up his sword once more and gives the order for a return march to the front. If he was correct in his thinking, the Alliance would be requesting reinforcements anyway and he could argue that he was taking the initiative. Though, all he wanted was revenge. He was going to have. It.

Even if he has to die trying.

[Estinien]

Estinien swore that he wasn’t going to reveal himself on the front lines. The dragoon swore that he was only going to remain in the shadows, plucking off the war machina that he knew would be aiming for your blind spot, as you fought and fought and fought your way through your aches and exhaustion to reclaim the line that was regained by the Garleans.

In fact, he figured that it was only a matter of time, for you have allowed the returning Alliance members to push farther than they could have hoped for. In a way, it was almost as if the rumors of the soldiers dropping like flies was exaggerated overmuch, as rumors are wont to do in any given situation. So why?

Why did he have such a heavy sense of foreboding?

His instincts flared then, drawing him to attention, for there was a distinct change in the aether swirling about him emanating from the Garlean side. It was like a prickle, small like a leech, but he couldn’t shake it off. Soon enough, it was as if he was drowning on the inside the more he breathed in the scent of smoke and flame...smoke and flame…

When Estinien understood what was occurring, his head snapped towards where you were standing. With the amount of exertion you were displaying, the constant panting and pauses to catch your breath, you were in the most danger.

And his sense of foreboding proved true when you had collapsed to your knees on the battlefield.

Adrenaline pulsated within the dragoon’s blood, but even at his distance, he was growing weak. Darkness started spotting his eyes and he was growing dizzy, fatigued, exhausted.

Not like this, not like this!

The man mustered all his strength to vault into the air. It was shaky, even through his addled mind he knew this, but you were in danger. You were in danger. He won’t let you be in danger…!

A part of him registered landing by your side, scooping you up within his arms just before you were about to get hit by a magitek ray, and jumping into the air once more. However, he had used up all his energy just reaching you and the distance he wanted to put between you and the danger was nowhere near enough.

In the end, he had collapsed in some unseen corner of the battlefield close to Resistance Headquarters, with you on his lap and within his arms. At this point, even the inner dragon within was growing tame, growing lax, and it was then he knew that it was too late.

So, he pressed a kiss on your forehead, only noticing now that you were barely awake and crying in front of him and this caused him to shed tears of his own.

“Est...in...I…” you attempted. “Shh…” he whispered back meekly, holding you close as he felt himself fading away all the same. “I...love...sor-” “No…”

No. I am sorry. I love you.

I will not let you go alone.

[Haurchefant]

(AU where he’s still alive for the sake of this cursed post)

It was always tradition that the eldest son was to be the one selected to go into battle when there is a need for it. That being said, the role of the youngest son was to ensure that support was given where needed, but to focus predominantly on shoring up the defense on the home front. Haurchefant being the middle son, was duty-bound to serve on the front lines with Artoirel and he couldn’t be happier for the opportunity.

Or, at least, he thought he couldn’t be happier.

When the Alliance had deemed it acceptable to leave the defense to the Resistance, allowing token forces to stay within headquarters to maintain an efficient communications network in case things were to go south, he attempted negotiating with the lord commander for him to stay. He wouldn’t admit that it was no more than an excuse to ensure he could always have your back during a fight and was no more surprised when Aymeric told him no with an amused smile on his face.

Before he left, he approached you for a temporary farewell. He will pray for your success, will pray for good fortune to you so that you may bring freedom to all of Eorzea in the face of the ones that wish to lock them all away like rabid dogs. After all, you had brought his people solace after a thousand-year-long war and he has no doubt that you would be able to do the same here.

Little did he know that the smile that you had given then and the words of reassurance you had spoken was to be the last he would have of you.

The next time you appeared before him, he was staring at your corpse on top of a metal table. His eyes were wide with disbelief, a part of him dying, detaching and breaking away from inside of him as a result. Even at the behest of his father, who urged him that it was alright to openly weep for the loss, he left the room to be on his lonesome, somehow wandering outside in the process.

How could I have been so foolish? How could I not have known? How could this possibly happen?

...Why did I choose to follow propriety and not kiss you?

Somehow, in his dark musings, Haurchefant ended up walking to his encampment and from the corner of his eye, he saw the entrance to the intercessory. The Falling Snows. The place that he had welcomed you to use when you sought his help.

He entered the hall and he collapsed to his knees almost immediately. All alone, he unravels his burdens, his pains and woes, along with punching the stone cold floors and walls, tossing anything and everything that he could in a fit of rage that he is unable to break away from. It took half a dozen knights to restrain him when he tried going after you searching for Shiva, and it took half a dozen more with the help of an anesthetic to force him to stop hurting himself now.

You needed me, he thought amidst the darkness. You needed me...and I left you all alone.

[Thancred]

As planned, Thancred had taken a group of the most highly skilled Far Eastern operatives in order to carry out the subterfuge plan that he so easily proposed in front of the Alliance leaders. When you had approached him afterwards, urging him to be careful, he smiled and held you close.

“Worry not, I have done this before. I will ensure that I come back to you.”

All of the Scions knew protocol. Those participating in the espionage aspect of their order are issued a special set of linkpearl that are able to tap into multiple different frequencies if they knew the proper input code. With this, they are able to listen in to radio messages sent between different sectors of Garlemald’s imperial army…as well as receive coded messages from their allies safely and without any fear of being eavesdropped.

Then, one day and completely out of the usual norm, he had received a message from home base.

“BEACON. ROSE. GONE.”

Thancred knew that the mention of ‘beacon’ is a reference to you. While you may not know it, the rest of the order had decided this codename to reference you during missions because that’s what you were: a beacon of hope in the darkest times, lit up the brightest for those that can yet be saved.

‘Rose’ could only mean one thing, the Black Rose that had been brought to light thanks to Alphinaud’s efforts elsewhere on Garlean territory. The deadly poison was so potent that it was enough to utterly annihilate a group of insurgents seeking to revolt against the Empire. If anyone were to so much breathe it in, then-

‘Gone.’

Thancred’s heart almost gave way when he pieced the puzzle together. At this point, the mission was more or less complete as rumors of the puppet prince was beginning to gain traction, so he sent the order that the infiltrators remain on standby to ensure the fire was still burning as he returned.

Faster. Faster. Faster!

What greeted him upon his return to Seventh Heaven was what he didn’t wish for. Something that he couldn’t have ever imagined.

Your body was laid out on one of the beds in the medical wing, the other Scions—including Alphinaud—surrounding you in a circle. The twins were openly weeping, Alisaie being held in her brother’s arms. Y’shtola couldn’t bear to look, choosing to stand in the corner with Krile and Urianger’s consolations because it was so, so wrong to gaze upon your features without the glitter of your aether flowing from you.

“This has to be some sort of joke…” Thancred began as he approached your bedside.

He called your name and when you didn’t respond, he reached out to hold your hand and found it eerily cold, like the Coerthan winter that you had escaped to after the bloody banquet. After he had failed Minfilia.

The thought tore him apart as he reached out to collect your body in his arms. This time, he allowed himself to cry in front of the others. He allowed himself this weakness that he forbade himself from feeling upon learning that Minfilia was gone. As he held you, his body was shaking, racking with sobs that was so painful to watch because of the fact that he would be the last one to show any emotion asides from frustration during a mission.

“I failed...I failed yet again...to save what I hold dear…”

With his words, the others couldn’t hold it in anymore. Their beacon of hope was lost.

You weren’t coming back.

[Hien]

He was the one that urged Yugiri to remain in Eorzea to provide continuous aid to the Alliance granted the number of stationed shinobi in the region. Upon learning the Scions’ plan to infiltrate into Garlean territory, Hien was rather proud of his nation’s immediate ability to contribute in the war effort, in the name of freedom that you and yours had provided to his country.

When he received the news that the leftover defense of the line at Ghimlyt Dark was to be left to the Resistance, when Yugiri had returned to the Kienkan in order to personally deliver the message, he thought finally. Finally, his brothers and sisters have the upper hand and will no longer have to live in fear of those monsters that had taken so much from them for their delusional causes.

Oh, how cruel the kami must be.

You had been sending him letters the entire time. On the surface, it was to keep him updated on the war but he mostly wanted to make sure that you weren’t pushing yourself overmuch in a land where he isn’t able to easily reach. He would often tease in his letters that, should the next time you come to visit be of leisure, he will no longer be tempted to release you from his embrace once more. He wanted to hold you, he wanted to touch you, he wanted you to be safe.

Then, your letters stopped coming.

One day, two days, three days, ten, there was radio silence even from the Alliance and he was half tempted to send a runner to your homeland to bear word on what may be going on. The only thing that stopped him then was Lyse coming on her own volition, bearing the message herself.

“Hien, I’m sorry…” the woman began and there was a ringing growing louder in the Doman lord’s ears. “Lyse, do not—” “Hien, the Warrior—” “��I implore you, please stop—” “—because of Black Rose—” “LYSE!”

Even as Hien stood to his feet, shouting the woman’s name from the top of his lungs with such disrespect in front of his ministers, Lyse continued eyeing him patiently. Painfully. For the words that were to escape her lips were unkind, unfair, and it makes him wonder what exactly the kami have planned for their people.

“...Hien, they are gone,” Lyse says softly, brokenly, with as much pain that he must have been feeling since she had worked with you for the majority of your journey as the Warrior of Light.

It only took but a moment for him to decide that he was going to return to Eorzea in the company of a contingent of soldiers. After all, if Lyse had decided to make a personal visit asides from passing the message along—which could have been done by any other Scion—then that meant that something had gone terribly wrong.

Prior to boarding the ship sailing for your homeland, Hien brings the letters that you had sent him all this time. In his private quarters, he reads them, over and over again. He could still hear your voice saying the words on the paper in his mind. Even as he spilled tears as he read the words, he could still hear you.

He wishes that he could hear your voice again.

#ffxiv headcanons #ffxiv writing #aymeric de borel #estinien wyrmblood #haurchefant greystone #thancred waters #hien rijin #tumblr requests #ANGST #LIKE SO MUCH ANGST #I'M SORRY #also i didn't do g'raha because i'm super emotional over 5.3 #plus he's sleeping let him sleep #uwu

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the-mists-of-asgaard · 4 years ago

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Bands List (Part 9: I)

Disclaimer: My passion and like for the respective bands does not mean that I support them outside of the music-world. I just like the songs, for whatever reason. Also, this took hours of research and mental exercises and checks through older lists I had made in the past, however I might be forgetting some bands, or might have accidentally put the same band twice (blame the human natural error). With this being said, let’s go! I: Insomnium, I Am, I Am Destruction, I Am All Wounds, I Am a Preacher, I Am the Messenger, I Am the Void, I Chaos, I Declare War, I Killed Everyone, I Miss My Death, Í Myrkri, I Refuse, I Swear Damnation, I the Intruder, I Will Tear This World Apart, I Lord Aveu, I Protagonist, I.N.R.I, I.N.R.I, I4896, Iapethos, Iarnvidjur, IATT, Ibéria, Iberian Wolves, Ibex Angel Order, Ibex Throne, Iblissian, Ibyss, Icarus Witch, I Saw the Deep, I Shall Devour, I Shalt Become, Ice Howl, Ichor, Ichor, Icon & the Black Roses, Icon of Curse, Icon of Destruction, Icon of Phobos, Iconic Vivisect, Iconoclast, Icons of Brutality, ICS Vortex, ID: Exorcist, ID:Vision, Ideologies Embodied, Ides, Ishan, Immortal, Infant Anihilator, Inquisition, Invidus, Impaled Nazarene, Impending Doom, Ides of Gemini, Idlegod, Idol of Fear, Idol Smasher, Idolheist, Idolist, If Hope Dies, If I Could Kill Myself, If You See Kaye, Ifing, Ifurin, Igatsus, Ignea, Igneous Human, Ignifer, Ignis Gehenna, Ignis Inferni, Ignis Noctem, Ignis Tellus, Ignite the Black Sun, Ignite the Helix, Ignition Code, Ignominious Incarceration, Ignotus Enthropya, Igor Mortis, Igric, Ihloosuhree, IIIVI Ghost, Iil Ialpirgah, Ikarian, Il Vuoto, Ilathar, Ildjarn, Ildra, Ildverden, Ilhalung, Iliac Thorns, Ilienses Tree, Ill Natured, Ill Tidings, Illarith, Illdisposed, Illidiance, Illimitable Dolor, Illkynja, Illogic Creatures, Illum Adora, Illumina A.D., Illumion, Illunïs, Illusion of Control, Illusion of Fate, Illusionary Funeral, Illusions Dead, Illusions Play, Illvilja, Ilmasai, Im Tode, Images of Eden, Images of Violence, Imago Metus, Imago Mortis, Imber Luminis, Imhla, Immaculate Deception, Immanent, Immemorial, Immense Suffering, Immensity, Immersed in Darkness, Imminent Annihilation, Imminent Ferality, Immiseration, Immolated Moth, Immolation, Immolith, Immorgon, Immortal Force, Immortal Souls, Immortal Threat, Immortalis, Impaled upon the Mountains, Impartial Dismemberment, Impavida, Impending Annihilation, Impenetrable Darkness, Impenitent, Imperative Decreation, Imperator, Imperceptum, Imperfectionist, Imperial Black Ceremony, Imperial Conquest, Imperial Domain, Imperial Slaughter, Imperilment, Imperious Vision, Imperium, Imperium, Imperium, Imperium Dekadenz, Imperium Infernalis, Imperium Sacrum, Imperthean, Impetuous, Impetuous Burial, Impious Havoc, Implements of Hell, Implore, Imposition, Impulsealer, Impulsive Gluttony, Impure, Impure Consecration, Impure Declaration, Impure Violation, Imynvokad, In Abominabiles Facti Sunt Carpi, In Aeternum, In Aevum Agere, In Autumn, In Autumnus, In Blood We Trust, In Caeli Absentia, In Cauda Venenum, In Chasms Deep, In Crucem Agere, In Darkest Dreams, In Demoni, In Dreams of Reality, In Extenso, In Flames, In Grief, In Hearts Wake, In Human Form, In Luna, In Mortis Veritas, In Mourning In My Shiver, In My Silence, In Oblivion, In Place of Hope, In Reverence, In Shadows and Dust, In Staid Grace, In tha Umbra, In the Company of Serpents, In the Gale, In the Woods..., In Torment I Die, In Twilight's Embrace, In Vain, Inactive Messiah, Inanimate Existence, Inborned Lycanthropy, Inbreed Aborted Divinity, Inception of Fall, Incest in Heaven, Inchoate, Incidere, Incinerate, Incinerated, Incinerated Flesh, Incinerating the Infidels, Incinerator, Incinerator, Incinerator, Incisus, Incited Abomination, Incivility Regurgitated, Inclemency, Inconcessus Lux Lucis, Incordia, Incorporea, Inculter, Incursed, Indecent Excision, Index Off Proxy, Indica Blues, Indigo Raven, Indisgust, Indoctri, Indoctrinate, Indricothere, Indrid Cold, Indrid Cold, Inducing Terror, Inequity, Infamous Glory, Infaust, Infected Laceration, Infected Mind, Infecting the Swarm, Infection Code, Infection of Heaven, Infekted, Infera Bruo, Inferi, Infernal Angels, Infernal Blaze, Infernal Coil, Infernal Cult, Infernal Katharsis, Infernal Regency, Infernalectomy, Infernalien, Infernarium, Inferno (XII), Infernotion, Infernüs, Infernus Presence, Infest, (The) Infestation, Infestation, Infested Entrails, Infested Monastery, Infesting Swarm, Infestum, Infibulated, Infidel Reich, Infiltrate, Infinite Death, Infinite Defilement, Infinite Density, Infinite Eclipse, Infinite Purgatory, Infinite Regression, Infinityum, Infliction, Infra, Inframonolithium, Infuria, Ingenium, Ingested, Ingested Lobotomized Remains, Inglorious, Ingrain, Ingress, Ingurgitate, Ingurgitating Oblivion, Ingvar, Inhale, Inhale the Void, Inhaling the Stench of Mustard Gas, Inhaling Cold, Inhepsie, Inherit Disease, Inherits the Void, Inhuman, Inhuman Atrocities, Inhuman Deformity, Inhuman Devourment, Inhuman Dissiliency, Inhuman Rage, Inhumate, Inhumation, Inhume, Iniquitous Deeds, Iniquitous Monolith, Iniquitous Savagery, Inira, Initium Mortuus, Inlandsys, Inmortus, (The) Inmost Blight, Inmost Ego, Inn13, (The) Inner Abyss, Inner Altar, Inner Blast, Inner Dawn Foundation, Inner Fear Project, Inner Maze, Inner Missing, Inner Nocturne, Inner Odyssey, Inner Sanctum, Inner Silence, Inner Suffering, Inner War, Innergrave, Innermoon, Innero, InnerSphere, Innerty, InnerWish, Innocence Écartelée, Innocens, Innominate, Innommé, Innovation Threat, Innse Gall, Innsmouth, Innumerable Forms, Inocculta, Inoculated Life, Inpathos, Inquinamentum, Inquiring Blood, Inquisitor, Insalubre, Insan, Insanation, (The) Insane, Insane Court, Insane Order, Insane Therapy, Insaniae, Insanity, Insanity, Insanity Cult, Insanity Reigns Supreme, Insano Vision, Insatanity, Insect, Insect Court, Insect Death, Insect Inside, Insectos Postmortem, Inseminate Degeneracy, Insepulto, Inside the Sun, Insidious, Insidious Asphyxiation, Insidious Decrepancy, Insidious Disease, Insidious Reign, Insidious Squelching Penetration, Insidious War, Insignificant Existence, Insignium, Insineratehymn, Insistent, Insomnia Creep, Insorcist, Inspell, Instant, Instant Mummification, Instigate, Instinct of Survival, Instorm, Insulter, Insurrection, Integral, Integrity, Integrity, Intellect Devourer, Inter Arma, Intercranial Tremors, Interface, Intergalactic Holocaust, Interior Wrath, Internal Aeon, Internal Bleeding, Internal Cold, Internal Damage, Internal Darkness, Internal Frost, Internal Organs External, Internal Suffering, Internal Vomit, Internment, Interregnum, Interspersing Bone and Blood, Interstellar Abraxas, Intervals, Intervoid, Intestinal Disgorge, Inthraced, Inthyflesh, Intig, Into Chaos, Into Dagorlad, Into Dark, Into Darkness, Into Decay, Into Eternity, Into the Arcane, Intothecrypt, Intra Spelaeum, Intracerebral Hemorrhage, Intracranial Butchery, Întristare, Intronaut, Intronaut, Introspectia, Introspectiva, Introvert Perversions, Intruder Incorporated, Invading Chapel, Invdrs, Inveracity, Inverloch, Inverno Eterno, Invert the Idols, Inverted Cross Cult, Inverted Earth, Inverted Mind, Inverted Virtue, Invertia, Inveterate Extinction, Invictus Infernal, Invidia, Invisible Enemy, Invisius, Inviting End, Invoke, Invoke the Fury, Invoker, Involuntary Convulsion, Invouta, Inward Escape, Io Apreo, Iōhannēs, ION, Iona Death Cult, Iperyt, Ira de Nephilim, Ira Diaboli, Ira Tenax, Irae, Irate Architect, Irden, Ire Wolves, Ireshrine, Iris Divine, Irkallian Oracle, Irminsul, IRN, Iron Altar, Iron Crown, Iron Flames, Iron Flesh, Iron Maiden, Iron Moth, Iron Noose, Iron Pike, Iron Spider, Iron Swan, Iron Walrus, Ironbird, Ironwood, Ironwork, Irony of Fate, Irrbloss, Irreparable, Irreverent Witness, Irreversible, Irreversible Mechanism, Irrweg, Iscariot, Ischemic Necrosis, Isebel, Isenblåst, Isengard, Isengrim, Ishvara, ISIS, Iskald, Isolated Antagonist, Isole, (The) Isosceles Project, Israfel, Isran, Isserley, Istårn, Isvind, It Creeps and It Crawls, Itching, Iteru, Ithdabquth Qliphoth, Ithilien, IV Luna, Ivan, Ivebeenshot, Ixion, Ixtab, IXXI, iwrestledabearonce, Izah, Izthmi, Iðrast

#bands list #i #project #metal #metal bands

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 5 years ago

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But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 5: Don’t Even Think About It]

Hi y’all! I’m so sorry I’ve been gone for so long...finals and job hunting got the best of me. I will be updating more frequently going forward. As always, thank you so much for reading!! 💜😘

Series summary: You are an overwhelmed and disenchanted nurse in Boston, Massachusetts. Queen is an eccentric British rock band you’ve never heard of. But once your fates intertwine in the summer of 1974, none of your lives will ever be the same...

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, very very very little sexual content.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @bookandband @queen-crue

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

You’re in the crowd at The Rainbow, although you aren’t sure why; this has already happened.

Freddie is skulking across the fog-draped stage as he belts out the chorus of In The Lap Of The Gods...Revisited, all glistening tan skin and teased hair, a pillar of nimble black leather; John is only a silhouette in the mist. Brian looks like something that’s crawled out of a cocoon: leggy and insect-like, the sleeves of his flowing white blouse like a pair of wings. And Roger...Roger’s in the back, of course—“the hardworking one in the back,” he always says—with a glittery black kimono-like shrug hanging loosely off his bare shoulders. He’s drumming feverishly, sprays of Heineken flying off his floor tom, his forehead and blond hair dripping.

“Whoa, whoa, la la la, whoa...

I can see what you want me to be,

But I'm no fool,

It's in the lap of the gods...”

Somehow, as the fog clears, Roger’s eyes find you in the crowd. He grins in that effervescent, blameless way that he does. And now you know for sure that this is a dream; because there’s no chance Roger could see that far without his glasses.

There’s a banging noise coming from somewhere, but it’s muted, distant, splintered like an echo.

Dream Roger is fading away, dissolving as the lights shade to black on the stage. He disappears, and then Freddie does too, and then Brian, and finally John. The crowd you’re standing in is a sea of churning, indistinguishable faces.

The banging grows louder, closer. You can hear a new voice now.

You swim up from unconsciousness and punch into daylight. You’re laying on your back in bed in a small, rustic hotel room; it takes you a second to remember what the world looks like now. It’s not November at the Rainbow Theater. It’s December 11th, and you’re in Rome.

You sit up in bed and turn towards the door. Whoever is out there is knocking so forcefully that the distressed wood rattles on its hinges.

“Hey, Dorothea Dix, wake up!” Freddie is shouting through the door.

You rub your eyes as your feet touch the cool teak floor. The band flew into Rome late last night, and has one full day to burn before their concert on the 12th. You’d pitched the idea of visiting a few museums, the Colosseum, the Pantheon, the Roman Forum, St. Peter's Basilica, maybe even the Baths of Caracalla or the Temple of Venus and Roma; but it had been difficult to get anyone to commit at 2 a.m. when you were all exhausted and dragging luggage into the modest, quite geriatric hotel. Queen may finally have a Top 20 album in the U.S., but the streets aren’t paved with gold just yet.

“Darling, need I remind you that this was all your idea, you simply must wake up this instant—!”

You swing the door open. Freddie is standing in the hallway in a vivid yellow-and-black jacket and white jeans, tall boots, dark hair huge and curly, folded aviator sunglasses peeking out of his pocket.

“Get ready, bitch,” he says, grinning, then slips the sunglass over his dusky eyes. “All those gorgeous marble blokes with their cocks hanging out aren’t going to ogle themselves.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You start with the ruins, then end up at the National Roman Museum after lunch. Brian and Chrissie meander through the halls of cracked marble goddesses and heroes and piecemeal fractions of bodies, their hands intertwined; Chrissie took a few days off work to meet the band in Rome, and she’s glowing with the thrill of being reunited with Bri. Freddie is contemplating the displays, tapping his chin thoughtfully and chatting as John nods along and sketches in his notebook. There’s a photographer scurrying around snapping photos of the band for some magazine, to the vexation of the museum employees. They scowl from the corners of the rooms, their suits pristine and arms crossed, muttering to each other in Italian.

Roger leaps in front of a hulking statue of Perseus and mimics the pose. “What do you think?” he asks you, wielding an invisible spear. “Am I courageous? Divine? A mirror image?”

“You’ll have to work on the hair. And gain like a hundred pounds.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Pounds?!”

“Whoops. Kilos. A lot of kilos. But I think I like you as you are. Can I see your hands?”

Roger falls out of his pose, smiling. “Yes ma’am.” He presents his palms for inspection. The first weeks had been hell for him as his hands were worked into touring shape, repeatedly blistered and worn raw, iced and treated and bandaged by you each night only to be pummeled all over again the next day. Of course, Roger hadn’t described it that way; he shrugged at the blood and swollen knuckles, his eyes already alight with the promise of future shows. That’s just a casualty of fame, love, he’d told you. I’d take it all again and more. The last of his blisters have healed now into discolored callouses, rough whirlpools of memories from cities like Glasgow and Bristol and Helsinki and Munich. “I can get more pounds too, you know. I’ll be swimming in them. I’m gonna buy you a mansion when we get home.”

“Not so fast, blondie.” You graze your thumbs over his rugged palms and release him. Aside from your annoyingly incessant concern for Roger, your job hasn’t proved to be too taxing: there have been sprains, minor lacerations, severe hangovers, some alcohol poisoning, and one case of syphilis that you identified and sent the unfortunate man to a doctor for, all of which afflicted the roadies rather than the band.

“How’s Jo doing?” Chrissie calls over from where she and Brian are scrutinizing a sculpture of Apollo. She tosses Roger a smirk.

“Fine,” he replies briskly. “It was amicable. She understood. Nothing personal, just with the tour and everything we knew it wasn’t going to work out. Bad timing, that’s all.”

“Hm. That’s not exactly how she described it.”

Roger sighs, irritated. “Well, Chris, I really can’t control what she chooses to tell you, can I?”

“Shhhh. Play nice, love,” Brian coos, massaging Chrissie’s shoulders.

Roger pops a cigarette between his lips and moves to light it. A museum employee rushes over, waving his arms frantically. “Per favore, signore, no smoking near the exhibits—!”

“Oh, right, right. Sorry.” Roger tucks the cigarette away, then turns back to you. “Okay, no mansion then. What’s your fancy? Diamonds and gold? Tigers on leashes?”

“A harem of sensual Italian men?” Freddie suggests. Chrissie bursts out laughing.

“I hope not,” Roger says.

“You know what I really want?” you say, eyeing busts of Hadrian and Nero.

“What?” Chrissie asks.

“A camera. A really good one. To document all of this, our adventures. I mean, I know we have...” You wave towards the magazine photographer, who’s mostly snapping shots of Freddie and Roger. “But it would be nice to have my own photos. Carry them around in my wallet, force strangers to look at them, cover my refrigerator with them, all that sentimental stuff. So the minute you kids start making real money, I’d like a nice Canon. Or a Nikon. Or whatever the best camera is.”

“The Canon F-1 is quite good,” the photographer offers.

“Perfect! Clearly, I know nothing about cameras. And will need a hefty instruction manual. But I’m still excited.”

Roger winks. “I believe in you.”

As you all wander into the next room, Freddie spies a grand piano and sprints to it. He slides onto the bench and begins testing the keys. A distraught museum employee appears instantly.

“Signore, please, this is for the museum staff only, please signore!”

“Oh relax, darling, I won’t break it.” He begins experimenting with some light, jazzish melody.

“I love Rome,” you decide as you stroll past the Aphrodite of Menophantos. “Are you sure we can’t stay here forever?”

John frowns as he shades in whatever he’s drawing in his notebook. “It’s too bad we couldn’t make it to Florence.”

Freddie rolls his eyes from the piano. “Deaky, darling, this Dante’s Inferno obsession has got to go. It’s positively morbid.”

“He ends up in paradise,” John protests wryly.

Freddie snorts. “Yes, well, Florence is a three hour drive each way. Next time perhaps. Once we’ve all got private jets and Nurse Nightingale over there has her posh camera.”

“And we’ve acquired trophy wives to pose with us,” Brian jokes. Chrissie squeals and shoves him good-naturedly.

“We could go to the beach,” John proposes.

“A seaside rendezvous?” you say playfully.

Freddie hums and nods as his fingers fly over black and white keys.

“Signore...” the museum employee begs. The photographer circles Freddie and the piano, snapping picture after picture.

“The beach?!” Roger whines. “It’s too cold for that! We can’t swim, we can’t sunbathe practically naked, what’s the point? And we’re checking out that club tonight. The one by the hotel, what’s it called, Fred? El Fuocolio?”

“Il Fuoco,” Freddie corrects, amused.

“Ah. Forgive me for not keeping up with my Italian.”

“We don’t all listen to opera, you know,” you tease Freddie. He peers over at you thoughtfully, then continues playing. “I’ll go to the beach with you, John.”

He almost drops his notebook and pencil. “Will you?”

“Of course. I’ll have fewer opportunities in my life to see the Italian seaside than get tipsy and evade dodgy men at some bar, most likely. Although I will miss seeing your dancing.”

“Aww!” Now Roger is dejected, his huge blue eyes pleading. “You have to come with us.”

“Next time,” you promise him.

“This time.”

“Next time.”

“Fine.” He points at John. “Don’t let her get eaten by a shark or run off with some Italian playboy.”

John grins. “I’ll do my best.”

Two burly security guards arrive and begin shouting at Freddie in Italian. “Oh fine, fine!” he snaps as he stands and abandons the piano. The museum employee beams triumphantly.

“Fred, I think we’ve tormented them enough,” Brian says.

“Bri, can we go to the beach too?” Chrissie asks. “Please?”

“It’ll be chilly.”

“I have a jacket. And I can borrow yours if necessary.”

Brian chuckles. “Okay. We can go. Ostia’s the closest one, I suppose.”

“You’ll love it,” you tell him. “It’ll be like time travelling. You get to stand on the same shore that the ancient Romans did, bury your feet in the same sand, watch the same sunset. That should appeal to an astrophysicist such as yourself.”

“How poetic,” John muses.

Roger comes to you, shrugs off his black leather jacket, drapes it over your violet sweater.

“Roger, don’t—”

“I’ll miss you,” he interrupts, smiling, then presses his lips fleetingly to your forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~

The four of you take a crowded, decidedly unglamorous bus to Ostia and walk the beaches under the fading afternoon sun. It is chilly by the crashing water, and the wind whips across your cheeks forcefully enough to sting; but none of that stops you. Brian and John collect seashells, and Brian retreads all the details of the tour—all the things he wishes he could do over, all the things he wants to change going forward—as John listens, smoking and nodding when appropriate. You and Chrissie kneel in the cool sand and shape castles with your hands, giggle about how messy and lopsided they are, scribble notes in the soft sifting remnants of stone and quartz: Chrissie loves Bri, Buy Sheer Heart Attack today, Queen was here. And you’re thinking about Roger more than you should be, and Chrissie knows it; but she’s not going to say anything about that now.

When the boys come back, Bri sits in the sand next to Chrissie and begins to decorate her castle with the shells he found: scallops and clams and tulip shells and oysters and tiny lightning whelks. She claps and hugs him, leaps into his lap, pulls him in for a kiss.

“This is terribly unfair,” you say, staring morosely at your now even less impressive sandcastle.

John appears beside you and offers a massive pink conch filled with very small, pristine, glossy shells. You gasp and clasp a palm over your heart.

“Really?!”

“Yeah,” he says, puzzled. “Who do you think I picked them for?”

“You’re the best. The absolute best. A treasure. I owe you my life. Wait...” You pick up a thin shard of driftwood and write into the side of your sandcastle: John Deacon, and then a heart encircling it. “You are officially lord of the sandcastle.”

“A prestigious position, surely,” he says, smiling, then passes you the conch. “Go on.”

As you place the shells, he finds a dried bit of seaweed and impales it on the piece of driftwood, then plants the makeshift flag on the tallest tower of the castle.

Brian glances over and shakes his head, his mess of curls shivering. “Chris, love, I fear we’ve been outdone.” Then he nods to the words you and Chrissie carved with your fingertips. “Leaving letters in the sand?”

“Promotional material,” you quip; but you can tell the wheels in Brian’s magnificent mind are whirling.

As the sun sets over the Mediterranean Sea, golden speckles of light floating disembodied on the waves, the four of you get gelato and browse through bookstores and wander down cobblestone streets. And on the bus ride back to the hotel, Brian points out constellations as you hold the conch shell in your lap and doze against John’s shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~

Brian and Chrissie depart to get dinner when you arrive back at the hotel, taking the rare opportunity for a date night. You try to think of a more romantic destination than Rome. Paris? New York? Venice? Probably none of those. You push the images that flood your thoughts away: candlelit meals with violins serenading in the background, the warm cascading glow of streetlights, tossing coins into fountains older than either London or Boston, gazing over the table and into the ensnaring oceanic eyes of the person who won’t be there. Roger.

“Do you think Roger and Fred are back yet?” you ask John in the lobby. He’s still got his notebook in his jacket pocket, but he won’t let you see it.

“I doubt it, but let’s find out.”

You ride the elevator to the band’s floor, still clutching the conch shell, as John fields ideas for dinner.

“Roger’s going to want pizza and beer, but we might be able to get Freddie to go for something more swanky. Actually, he’ll probably order dessert first. There’s a restaurant down the street that I heard has phenomenal tiramisu and lasagna.”

“Oh god. I would kill for a good lasagna.”

“No need for all that,” John says. “We don’t have enough cash for your bail.”

“If they serve lasagna in prison, you can leave me here.”

“But then who would patch up our debaucherous roadies?!”

You laugh as the elevator lurches to a halt and the doors open. “Just call me up in prison and I can talk you through it—”

You step out and turn down the hallway; then all the air vanishes from your lungs. Roger’s fumbling with his key as he tries to get into his room...and pressed between him and the door is a raven-haired, modelesque woman in a short red dress. His eyes are closed, her tongue darting between his lips, his free hand skating up her bare thigh and beneath her dress. And suddenly you’re being dragged back into the elevator, John’s arms locked around your waist. He hits the button for the lobby then reaches for you uncertainly.

“Are you okay—?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m totally fine, I’m...” But for some reason, your throat is burning and your eyes are blurring with tears. You try to blink them away and they drop down your cheeks like rain.

“You’re not,” he realizes softly.

“Goddammit,” you choke out, sobbing.

“Hey, don’t do that,” John pleads. “Please don’t do that, please don’t cry—”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, this is so stupid...” You fan your face and try to wrangle your breathing. The way he was touching her...I can’t forget the way he was touching her. “I am so stupid.”

“You’re not,” John flares. And when he opens his arms you rush into them, burying your face in his jacket as he pulls you closer, drowning you in his warmth. “You’re not stupid,” he says, quietly but severely. “You’re wicked smart and wonderful and perfect, so you’re not allowed to say anything to the contrary. Alright?”

“Okay,” you whisper. And it occurs to you—as your breathing slows, as your tears subside—how incomparably comfortable this feels, homey even.

John clears his throat. “Hey, not to break this up or anything, but you’re sort of stabbing me with the conch shell.”

Incredibly, you laugh as you back away, swiping at your eyes. “Sorry.”

The elevator doors open, and John leads you out into the lobby. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says. “We’re going to go to that restaurant on the corner and I’m going to order a lasagna—”

“John, I don’t think I can eat anything.”

“Doesn’t matter. Did I say you were going to be forced to eat it at gunpoint? No I did not. I’m going to order a lasagna, and if you want some awesome, and if you don’t we’ll just sit and talk. And you can nibble table bread or drink so much wine you forget today ever happened, whatever you want. You make the rules. But we’re going, and I��m ordering lasagna.”

“Okay,” you reply, sniffling, smiling up at him gratefully.

The restaurant is teeming with tourists, and you end up seated at a tiny table near the back with very dim lighting and a roaring fireplace. It’s deliciously hot, burning away your misery; or, at least, making it feel as if it might belong to someone else, as if maybe you heard about it from a friend or in a song, maybe even dreamed it. You take Roger’s leather jacket off and hang it on the back of your chair. When the waiter arrives, John orders for you.

“One lasagna, the biggest one you have, and extra table bread, and uh...” He skims the menu. “Two red wines and a Coke. And a sparkling water. So the lady has a selection.”

“Si, signore. Grazie.”

When the waiter leaves, John lifts off his jacket too, then unbuttons his shirt to his navel. The sweltering glow of the firelight dances across his pale skin in a way that is mysteriously distracting. “Well, it definitely doesn’t feel like December in here.”

“I’m sorry, maybe they could move us—”

“No, that’s alright, I know you like it. And one should be sweating in Southern Italy, don’t you think?” He tears off a hunk of bread when it arrives and plates it for you. The conch shell lays on the table by the salt and pepper shakers, to the visible confusion of the waiter.

“Thank you. For everything, John. Really.”

He gazes at you with those blue-grey eyes that can look like either clouds or steel depending on the occasion. Tonight they are misty, like the froth over waves, impossibly soft. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he says gently. “I don’t know if that helps at all, but I think it should. It doesn’t mean anything to someone like Roger, what you saw tonight.”

You sigh. “I guess it doesn’t. And I’m sorry, I know it’s ridiculous, I know that, and I’m just so frustrated and...and...I get it, I get that I have no right to care about anything Roger does, which is why I feel like such an idiot for reacting this way, but I just...I just...I’m just so...so fucking torn up about it and I’m sick of being surrounded by it all the time and I’m...I’m so...I’m...look, I’m sorry, can you button your shirt or something? That’s very distracting.”

“Oh, it’s distracting, is it?” John asks, grinning.

“Don’t you dare—”

He undoes several more buttons. “How about now, are you sufficiently distracted?”

“John, no!” you wail, laughing.

“I wouldn’t want to do anything to distract you from your tortured inner monologue...” He removes his shirt entirely and tosses it to the floor. “How are you now?”

“Very distracted,” you wheeze.

“Excellent.” He smiles, resting his face in his hands, the firelight flickering over his bare chest and shoulders, reflections of flames in his eyes. “See, you don’t look so sad now.”

“No, I guess I don’t.” You bite into your hunk of bread. But still, the way he was touching her...

John sips red wine and smirks teasingly. “You know...if you ever get tired of the celibate lifestyle...I’m always game.”

You laugh, shaking your head, and open the Coke bottle. “That’s very much appreciated. But I don’t just want sex.”

“I know,” he replies, solemnly now. “You want him.”

“That’s pretty pathetic, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic at all.” That seems like it must be a lie, but John sounds genuine.

“You’re my best friend, you know,” you tell him. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Certainly not get treated to authentic Italian lasagna.”

You chuckle. “I’m sure that’s the least of your talents. Veronica is a very lucky woman.”

John nods, staring down at the table now, pushing crumbs around with the back of his hand. “If you say so.”

And, in the end, you managed to eat your half of the lasagna after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you get back to your hotel room, it’s very late in Italy...which means it’s only early evening in Boston. You pick up the phone and resolve to use the last of your miniscule weekly allowance for a long distance call.

Your mom answers on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Guess where I am right now.”

“Hopefully on a date with that nice Roger boy.”

“Oh my god, Mom.”

She titters pleasantly. “Tell me, dear. Germany? No, no. Spain.”

“Rome.”

“Oh!” she sighs, steeped in nostalgia. “Daddy and I went there on our honeymoon! Ages ago, of course. But it was wonderful, otherworldly. Like getting lost in a fairytale. How do you like it?”

“I love it,” you murmur. “Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Always, dear.”

You twirl the phone cord around your fingers anxiously. “How did you know that Dad was the one?”

“Hm.” She pauses; and you can envision the way she takes a step back and glances up at the ceiling whenever she’s thinking something over. Oh, maybe I do still miss parts of Boston. “Well...you know Daddy wasn’t single when we met. And neither was I.”

“Yeah, I think I remember that part of the story.”

“I’m not sure if I can explain it, dear. Truly. I...” She drifts off, pondering it. Finally, she says: “I’d had plenty of other boyfriends. I’d been interested in other people. And people are all so different, they all have something unique to offer to your life, whether good or evil. But when I met your father...I just felt like I couldn’t live without him. Suddenly nothing else seemed possible if he wasn’t in the picture. Like if he wasn’t there I’d spend the rest of my life missing him. Does that answer your question?”

“It does, yeah.” You close your eyes and feel the dark Mediterranean night air breeze in through the open window. The conch shell has found a temporary home on top of the antique dresser. “I love you, Mom.”

“Aww, I love you too, honey. And you’ll make the right decision, whatever that is.”

You look out into the constellations that Brian introduced to you earlier, Aries and Fornax and Perseus. “I hope so.”

#queen #queen fic #roger taylor fic #but you can never leave fic #but you can never leave series #but you can never leave #queen fanfic #john deacon fic #roger taylor x reader #john deacon x reader

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elencelebrindal · 4 years ago

Text

Honest Opinion - Cygnus Hyoga (Hades)

If you’ve read the previous entry (Shiryu), I fixed it. I forgot to write his score at the beginning. Turns out, sleeping just 4 hours makes you goof a lot.

Overall score (character, not looks): 9/10

Hades Chapter: Sanctuary

Overall score: 8/10

Can we talk for a moment of how Hyoga was introduced? Because it was flippin’ amazing (yes, I know I use this word too much, don’t come at me). This young man was happily (sort of) minding his own business in good old Siberia, and three seconds later BOOM! resurrected Silver Saints galore. And what did he do? Pffft, obviously, he threw away his coat and froze them all like death flavored popsicles. I just liked that scene a lot. And, I mean, at least Hyoga paid enough attention to hear the most important hint of the show (aka, they’re not really on Hades’ side). Not something too noticeable, especially taking into consideration Hyoga definitely didn’t know they were faking it, but he did listen. Good job, man.

Though, the reason he didn’t get a perfect score, once again, it’s the stubbornness he showed, despite Athena clearly stating no other Saints should fight. Not that I didn’t like Hyoga being ready to fight Shaina for what he believed in, in fact I kinda appreciated that scene, but it doesn’t make sense on a more realistic level. Again, if you’re a Saint, and you’re faithful to your deity, why would you disobey to an order coming from that same deity? So yeah, minus 2 points for this.

Well, for this and for him readily jumping in to stop two Athena Exclamations. But I’ve already talked too much about this, so let’s skip to the heartbreaking moment, uh? Hyoga recognizing his master was one of the Specters, anyone? Or... Hyoga trying to stop his master from using the Athena Exclamation, while looking directly at him? Yeah, those two moments kind of destroyed me. There’s not much to see in the show, emotionally speaking, but I know Hyoga was distressed. I know how agonizing it was for him, to see the man who raised him (because let’s face it, there’s no way Camus just stuck to training without getting attached to a child) fight against the Gold Saints and claiming his mission was to get Athena’s head.

Even worse, the scene at Hades’ castle. I’m not saying it was one of the most upsetting scenes of this franchise (for Hyoga, not in general), but... you know, just seeing Hyoga destroying Zelos after witnessing that distorted frog beating a weakened Camus, there’s no going back. While he was in tears, let’s not forget about this. Because he saw Camus die. Again. In his arms. Great, now I’m crying again, give me a second.

Hades Chapter: Inferno

Overall score: 10/10

You might be wondering, why the high score? He didn’t do anything this whole chapter!" Well, you might be right, but he didn’t do almost anything. And what he did, I was not yelling at the screen like a madman like I normally do with Seiya (who does too much and accomplishes nothi- I should really stop talking crap about him every time).

What I’m trying to say is: just like Shiryu, he unfortunately didn’t have a big role in this chapter. The key character in this wasn’t him, but Shun. BUT, just like Shiryu again, he had a big responsibility towards the end, and exceptionally fulfilled his role. This being? Keeping Minos at bay, while Seiya and Shun crossed the Hyperdimension. Sure, it was kind of a useless gesture, because we know that Minos could have never crossed the Hyperdimension, but Hyoga didn’t know so he decided to fight against him.

That fight was admittedly short, and I understand that, but it also made us know how powerful Hyoga really grew to be. Throughout the classic series we see Hyoga growing up and learning how to keep his weaknesses at bay, and it all ends in this series, with him fully honoring Camus’ memory. What I always say is: even though Hyoga demonstrated his capabilities during the classic series (i.e. when he used the Aurora Execution), it’s here, it’s in Hades, that his true potential is shown; not because he wasn’t powerful before, but because he grew up even more and accepted that Camus wasn’t there anymore. This is more of a “me analyzing a character” than “me having an opinion on a character”, but in this case I think these two things can go hand in hand.

Anyway, Hyoga was able to slow Minos down enough for Seiya and Shun to reach their destination, enduring an awful amount of pain I might add, and actually waited for Shiryu. He could have left straight away, after Minos died, but I appreciated a lot that he waited for Shiryu, thus showing us how much he believed in him to win his fight. This might be just me reading too much into the characters, because of course the plot needed Hyoga to be there, but you can’t tell me this blond young man right there didn’t believe in Shiryu. Nah ah.

Also, his reaction to Ikki almost killing is brother gets me every time. It’s just so desolate, I love it and I hate myself for loving it because it’s sad.

Hades Chapter: Elysion

Overall score: 10/10

I don’t think I can say more about him than I said about Shiryu, because they literally did the same things. He behaved properly, opposite to You-Know-Who, and fought to the best of his capabilities, without acting like a child. I feel like the entire Elysion chapter showed how much all of them grew up, and then there’s Seiya being a hopeless child (and not in a good way).

Just like Shiryu, I was disappointed when he attacked Hades, because a Divine Cloth doesn’t give you enough strength to fight a major god like him, but he is a little bit more impulsive (yeah, he is, don’t give me the “ice cold prince” bullshit) so I’m not going to blame him too much. Still gonna be disappointed, but I saw that coming a little bit more. And this is Saint Seiya, so what am I expecting. Logic? Nah.

But, just like I said with Shiryu, his expression at the end, when Seiya unfortunately almost died was heart-wrenching. I thought I was finally done seeing him in tears, but nope. Still one more time, so my heart could suffer a last stab through it. Great job, Saint Seiya!

#saint seiya #i cavalieri dello zodiaco #los caballeros del zodiaco #os cavaleiros do zodiaco #knights of the zodiac #cygnus hyoga #hyoga #hades chapter #my opinion #honest opinion

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inviouswriting · 4 years ago

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You are Loved.

Polyship with @maiden-born-in-snow

This is the continuation of Feathers.

It got long and spicy.

Featuring a fight! I haven’t written one in ages. Wanted to have Kivera give Ardbert a hard time.

“You don’t have to understand me. Just accept me as I am.” Kivera tilts backwards on her scythe and hangs by her legs on it. Ardbert wondering just how she can hover like that.

“I’ll do my best. You are loved. Even if you have yet to see it.” At his words she falls off the snath landing on her back. Ardbert witnessed a rare moment from the angel. Her face and eyes matching in a dust of pink.

“Did you just?” He never saw her in a moment of embarrassment. Always calm and collected.

“Not a word of it!” Ardbert sees her tail bristle and her fingers dig into the ground, before he knew it a vine had raised and sweeps the back of his feet knocking him down.

“Kivera!” He looks up to see her smirk. A brighter gleam in her green eyes. Amusement.

“That’s cheating.”

“All is fair.” Kivera remarks and Ardbert gets to his feet. Kivera already crouched when he stands full she leaps. He uses her momentum against her to snare her at her waist as he steps just to the right. Something he has seen Estinien do, in how to catch her when she or Shuri pounces. He only has hold of her for a moment before she phases through his grasp.

Ardbert remembers she creates after images, and looks around him for a flit of her. Not to his sides, or above. Below. He jumps in time to avoid her grasp at his ankles. He sees her drop back through the portal she had summoned then looks above to see her drop down.

“Still got some years on Lyse.” He taunts, amused.

“Oh? If that is pride, let me remind you of what becomes of those afflicted.” Kivera keeps her tone light, they were merely having fun with this. Kivera touches a boot back to the ground and another ripple beneath his feet and he jumps back. He sees her turn to head more to the shores of in front of the house. He chases after her, in time to see her flit again and him following an after image.

This time he was unprepared for where she’ll pop out next, he has seen her spar with Estinien. Knows her magic from afar but not first hand. Next to his head, a blow of air on his ear makes him jump.

“If this was a true fight. You’d be in the ground already.” She snares him this time arms around his waist, and a surge runs through him to temporarily stun him. He can’t escape this one, and he has seen this before. He is pulled back and the ground gives underneath as he is pulled into a spiral with her. Estinien had told him about this ability, different elements and sensations wash through him. Searing heat, ice, in repeat till he is let go of and feels a scythe hit his side.

Ardbert drops through another set of her streams, till she lets him fall to the ground to regain himself. He shakes his head, and stares at the proud being, for dragging him through different realms. He looks around and sees a world of eternal night, the one that Shuri and Divinity had spoken of. Estinien had yet to see this world, her world.

He scoffs but is not easily outdone. The idea now is to catch her. He shifts his class to match her speed. Seeing the way her eyes never leave him, calculating his moves, green eyes lit gold.

“Now we don’t have to worry about upsetting Shuri or your child.” Ardbert sees her take on a different appearance as she speaks. Her natural self, the miqo’te shed for a full angel with black and white wings and skin as white as paper.

“I don’t think either of us are prepared for her wrath if we wake Ysayle.” Kivera simpers at his words, then on his guard another flit, and he changes class for dragoon to parry her scythe. He notes she is much faster and had a moment to just brace himself. How much strength she hides in that body of hers.

They go back and forth like this, with her adding aerial attacks to the mix. He was use to them from Sin Eaters. Yet he didn’t have the creeping fear with her. When she hooks his lance with her scythe he lets go of his weapon feeling that surge again through it.

At his feet as he lands more tendrils of vines creep to snare his feet again. Ardbert shifts class for his axe to break them. His attention taken off her, what she was waiting for.

“Nero...” He hears her and feels searing heat. Ardbert glances up and sees a rush of black around him like wildfire. He braces against it, then jumps feeling a chill to his left.

Kivera was right there getting a sneak attack in, the blunt end of her weapon against his side, his jump back in time to avoid it. Ardbert catches a glimpse of her as she flits again then fades. He anticipates below him again from her repetition.

“Mandala.” Overwhelming pressure surrounds him and instead of moving he holds still, he was at epicenter of it, the scythe that lands near him. Upright the ability used was devastating, yet she doesn’t harm the ground, from such a powerful attack. A sensation surrounds him and protects him from the brunt of the attack.

Kivera stands on the top of her scythe, hovering for a moment and eyes him. Ardbert feels a rush of a healing magic through him, and glances around seeing Divinity on the edges of where they are. She has a worried look for a moment, as Kivera addresses her.

“Divinity, it is a spar. I won’t kill him, don’t worry. He agreed to a full fight.” Divinity only shakes her head at them both.

“Don’t blame me if you get scolded.”

Kivera sees Divinity stand down and sit at the edges of the wasteland they’re in that borders the sanctuary section. Kivera turns her attention back onto Ardbert, who was thankful for the reprieve to compose himself and really look at what he was fighting. He sees where Kiya was given her looks, down to the slitted lenses and proud demeanor.

Ardbert catches her stare, and sees her eyes light up brighter green. He looks away, petrification. He had seen her use that one on monsters.

“Inferno.” He hears her voice in a double echo, beneath his feet again is searing heat. He shifts his class to dragoon enough to jump away from the attack. He sees her at the end of it, arcing the flames over to chase after him. He watches her move graceful as she commands her element. He briefs a glance over to Divinity who raises an eyebrow.

He changes his class to white mage, and defends himself with holy. He sees a change in Kivera’s expression, and sees he chose the right class when the attack falters on him. Inferno for hell, hell for unholy.

So he casts it again on her this time, Kivera recoils, and he sees her surround herself in black flame. It ends on her scythe awake and rolling as if it were liquid. Kivera flits and he prepares himself for a full attack again. At his side searing heat and energy engulfs around him, he changes his class to paladin to absorb most of the attack on the shield.

Kivera pushes against it, turning her scythe so the point end hooks the shield just right and rolls her weapon with his hand to knock it away. As soon as she does she embeds a foot into the ground and Ardbert can’t dodge this one as he is launched from vine and flame. Behind him he feels the blunt end of her weapon against his back no heat with it. She is still going easy on him.

Ardbert lands on the ground from the hit, and sees her drop down hovering just in front of him. His class shifts again and he casts another holy on her. He uses the light to temporarily blind her as she brings her arms up to brace and cover herself in flames again.

“Not this time.” He shifts to monk and uses speed to snare her at her waist and pushes forward to knock her over and himself. Kivera momentarily stunned, feels Ardbert grab for her hand with her scythe to wrest it out of her grasp.

Kivera’s grip lessened through a moment of paralysis and the scythe was shoved away from her. Ardbert is fast to grip her hands at the wrists with one hand and pins them over her head. Another hand covers her eyes. He was straddled on her to pin her wings.

He had successfully won against her through submission. Kivera is quiet, and remains still. Her chest rising a bit harder from the exertions, his own matched.

“You win.” Kivera murmurs under her breath, and Ardbert uncovers her eyes seeing the vibrant green looking to his blues. He adjusts to move his knees off her wings, when she offers no more fight or resistance to his holds.

“Just what did I win though?” He sees her eyes widen, he forgoes having her tell him more. In favor of a new reward.

“Didn’t you want to know more about me?” A hand of his hovers over her head, and he sees her flinch his hand roams through her hair. He had felt her hair before but it is a way to convey his feeling that he means her no harm.

“I think I rather have you tell me of your own volition than demand it as a reward for beating you in a spar. How you have shown vulnerability to the others without it forced.” Kivera searches his eyes for a moment, he sees a range of emotions in a second. Orange, blue, red, gold, green, then purple.

His hands continue to go through her hair, as he has seen Shuri and Divinity touch her. Showing her affection, something she isn’t use to from him. The back of his left hand brushes along her cheek.

“Why are you being nice to me...” Kivera is frustrated and caught off guard to this. She had expected him to want his answers.

“I said it before, you are loved. Whether you choose to acknowledge it or not.” He’s careful of how he touches along her neck, guarded by a unique choker. He sees an instantaneous reaction at his touch. A shiver throughout her form and eyes glossing over from it.

Ardbert glances around for Divinity who after seeing her leader lose, had retreated back to inform Shuri everything is fine. His attention back onto the angel beneath him seeing her stare out of the corner of a pink eye at him.

“You tend to favor the others, I don’t think you and I have properly had a one on one like this.” Ardbert tugs at her top adjusting the open front to expose her breasts further to him. He notes how her nipples are a pale pink compared to the pure white of her skin.

His fingers touch on her skin and he casts his gaze up to her face as calloused hands roam over her chest squeezing her breasts enough to draw a moan out of her. Ardbert slips his hands underneath them to full grab and follows the feel of her chest till he tugs at her nipples.

Kivera lets him toy with her, she raises a knee to nudge him, Ardbert scoots back to allow her to rub her knee against his groin. There is a moment where they catch glimpse of each other, and he leans down to claim a kiss and she meets him for it. Their hands soon busy in tearing clothes, Kivera burning his off to get at what she wants to touch in his back.

Ardbert follows his hands along her body to raise her legs after getting off of them. He spreads her folds enough to glance at the same pale pink of her nipples. He down at Kivera who looks away sheepish. He knows she is far from virgin, having seen her take Estinien alot. Yet her demeanor sometimes says other things.

Kivera feels his fingers slip into her, and she arches up and wriggles from him already pressing three into her. Curling them, she moans out and pushes back to his hand.

“So eager.” Ardbert says as he trails a kiss along her jawline careful about her choker knowing she has magic on it. He feels a hand down to stroke him. Kivera rolling her hips to his hand, and she pumps him till he tugs her hand off and his out of her.

When he fits between her legs, he is given a side eyed nod. Consent to continue. His push in he is met with heat and draws a hiss out of her. He wastes little time to thrust into her, Kivera pushing back to his hips. Her feet even hooking behind him to pull his waist to hers.

They’re frenzied, Ardbert looks down at her and sees her lost to pleasure, that she nibbles on her own fingers. Kivera already heightened from his fingers peaks alot sooner than he anticipated. Ardbert feels her squeeze him and holds himself back before he released too soon. He even slows down to prevent her from peaking. He draws a frustrated growl out of her.

“Wouldn’t be fair to have you cum before I can go with you.” He slips a hand back into her hair, cupping the side of her face. Kivera feels his thumb on her cheek and a rare blush creeps across her face. She is not use to soft affection like this. He exploits this of her, to touch feather light touches all over her where he can induce a reaction from her.

Kivera feels him shift his hips, and her senses are assaulted with pure bliss, so much that she doesn’t realize she is crying out in pure pleasure shaking and shuddering from each thrust made into her. Ardbert sees her lose control, a hand slipping down to rub at her clit as his thrusts get harder chasing his need to release.

Kivera is wild in her expressions, each sigh and moan made as she shivered from his fingers teasing as he thrusts into that spot. His other hand finds purchase with stroking the side of her face till he was certain she was about to burst from the stimulation.

Ardbert makes his thrusts harder, till Kivera arches up and cums hard with a satisfied sighed moan. Ardbert follows her pushing deep to spill his seed into her. Kivera meets his stare, only to look away. Ardbert presses the side of his hand to her face to guide her to look at him. Kivera keeps her eyes to the side feeling embarrassed by how much she lost her composure to pleasure this time.

He pulls from her, and she sees him get up then collect her into his arms. To return back to the mainland of her realm. Finding a pool of water to wash up in. Kivera sits on the edge of the pool her mind going through what transpired. Ardbert splashes her to break her thoughts earning her mild glare for it.

“We should get back to them soon. Shuri worries alot. Estinien too, though he doesn’t say it alot.” Kivera sees him make his way to her and helps wash her up, paying attention to her back and feathers cleaning any dirt from the white side.

When they were both more put together, Kivera provides him clothes to wear back. Since she burned his. When they step back into Eorzea’s realm, Kivera reverts back to her miqo’te self and goes to find Divinity to bury her head in her lap. Divinity sees the relaxed demeanor and gives Ardbert a smirk. Estinien even notes the change.

“How hard was the fight with her?” Estinien inquires, and Ardbert glances over to him.

“I felt like I was fighting a sin eater all over again. We should be glad she is on our side. Divinity saved my hide.” The near loss, he doesn’t know what she would have done if her attack had landed on him. He doesn’t entertain the thought instead leaves to go see Shuri to spend equal time with her.

Estinien approaches Kivera who eyes him out of the corner of a green eye.

“You went easy on him.. I recall myself coming back in worse wear than he did.” Kivera is coy with her grin.

“He is also a white mage.” She reminds him.

“How worse for wear was he then?”

“Hm... He got lucky he pinned me.” She feels Divinity thread her fingers into her hair and focuses around an ear.

“So you didn’t go easy on him.”

“Maybe a little, but he holds his own pretty well. It’s you I go easy on. Unlike him. You have never died before.” Kivera feels a tug on her ear and shrinks into the touch.

“One of these days you should fight me with that same power.” Estinien sits down next to the two. Grabbing at Kivera’s waist to tug her to strewn her across both him and Divinity.

“I will when I think you can handle it.” She retorts, Estinien’s hands go to her sides, and Kivera perks up the moment he presses on them finding a ticklish spot. Divinity holds her in place leaving her at his mercy. Kivera kicks her feet out and squirms.

“So this is where everyone is.” A voice sounds from behind the small group. Kivera pokes her head up at the voice.

“Shuri save me!” Shuri has Ysayle and sits down on the other side of Estinien. She watches as Estinien is relentless with the ticklish spots on their supernatural lover.

“I’d help you, but I have my hands full.” She teases, snuggling in close to Ysayle.

Kivera wriggles more till Estinien had his fill of the reaper’s punishment. Kivera moves and strewns herself the other way to face Shuri. She notes how tiny Ysayle is, green eyes lit with amazement. Kivera even moves close enough to rub her cheek against Ysayle’s nuzzling the infant.

Divinity takes hold of one of Kivera’s tail petting the tufted end. Kivera now content across two laps and her face next to Ysayle and Shuri’s chest listening to her heart as a reassuring sound to her. That she is there.

The only time she feels alive in the moment.

#Kivera Siverstein #shuri fontaye #ardbert #ff14 ardbert #polyship #estinien #Estinien wyrmblood #teeny ysayle #Divinity Libra

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