#A Hellish Encounter AU

[seoulzie]

범규; whispers of the unsleeping

───── orphic ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 (adj.) mysterious & entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding

synopsis: in the small city of yeosu, insomniac choi beomgyu seeks refuge in his school's abandoned astronomical observatory to catch some sleep. there, he encounters y/n l/n, a sociable and carefree girl who shares his struggle with insomnia. together, they form an unlikely friendship and revive their school's defunct astronomy club, spending their nights exploring the stars.

彡 pairing: beomgyu x f!reader 彡 genre: fluff, angst, strangers to lovers au, university au 彡 warnings: mentions of mental health & insomnia, parental abandonment (?) chronic illness, strong language, grief & loss

RELEASE DATE; 07/26/24 — this week, friday

index: prologue i. sleepless encounters capella ii. a place of our own vega iii. rekindling the stars proxima iv. phases of the moon, phases of us rigel v. cosmic challenge polaris vi. beyond the horizon altair vii. heart to heart betelgeuse viii. tomorrow's sunrise arcturus the end: epilogue

TAGLIST: OPEN! leave an ask in my inbox, reply to this post, or send me a dm!

CHOI BEOMGYU ( 21 ) ( M )

a student who struggles with trouble falling asleep most nights. consequently, he is irritable at school, always searching for an opportunity to find a secluded place to doze off. despite his gruff exterior, he is well-known around campus for his charming looks.

Y/N L/N ( 20 ) ( F )

a cheerful and enthusiastic student, the astronomy club president, whose secret battle with insomnia leads her to the solace of the astronomical conservatory at night. determined to keep her condition hidden, she finds refuge among the stars until she encounters another night owl, beomgyu.

PROLOGUE: CHAPTER 0 word count: 3.1k

another sleepless night. beomgyu stared up at the ceiling of his room, counting the cracks for the hundredth time. it was a game he played with himself when he couldn’t sleep, a futile attempt to trick his brain into shutting down. spoiler alert: it never worked.  he groaned, the sound echoing hollowly in the silent room, and threw an arm over his eyes, trying to block out the faint glow of dawn creeping through the dusty blinds. the alarm clock on his nightstand blinked 6:00 am in angry red numbers, a mocking reminder of the day looming ahead.

with a sigh that condensed the exhaustion clinging to him like a shroud, beomgyu rolled out of bed. every muscle screamed in protest, a dull ache thrumming through his limbs. he shuffled to the bathroom, his movements heavy with sleep deprivation. his reflection in the mirror looked as shitty as he felt—dark circles under his eyes, hair sticking up in every direction, and a permanent scowl etched on his face. he splashed some cold water on his face, hoping it would wake him up enough to function through another hellish day at school.

he reached for his usual blue and white striped tube of toothpaste, but his fingers met only the cold, hard plastic of the sink. panic clawed at his throat. empty. of course, it was empty. why wouldn't it be? just his luck.

frantic, he rummaged through the cabinet under the sink, desperately searching for a spare tube. nothing. nada. just a half-empty bottle of mouthwash that reeked of peppermint and disappointment. he slammed the cabinet shut, the sound echoing through the small bathroom like a gunshot. “fucking hell.”

defeated, beomgyu straightened up, bracing himself for another blow. he hobbled over to his laundry basket, a tangled mess of unmentionables. he started digging, desperately searching for a matching pair of socks. hope flickered when his fingers brushed against soft cotton, then died a slow, agonizing death as he pulled out a lone, navy blue sock. where was its partner? had it been swallowed by a rogue dryer gremlin? eaten by a sock-hungry monster lurking in the washing machine?

beomgyu stared at the single sock in his hand, a monument to his perpetually bad luck. he was starting to think the universe had a personal vendetta against him. this wasn't just another day; it was a full-blown disaster waiting to happen, and he was just the hapless protagonist caught in the middle.

after throwing on his uniform and grabbing his backpack, he headed downstairs. his dad had already left for work, as usual. the house was eerily silent, a stark contrast to the chaotic mornings of his childhood before—stop it, he thought to himself. beomgyu shook off the unwelcome memories and grabbed a piece of toast on his way out.

he dragged himself to the front door, his feet protesting with each step. a splash of color outside his window caught his eye. mrs. han, his elderly neighbor, was kneeling by her rose bushes, her weathered hands wielding a watering can with surprising vigor. despite his fatigue, a small smile tugged at the corner of beomgyu's lips. mrs. han was a fixture in the neighborhood, a tiny woman with a heart as big as her prized hydrangeas.

"good morning, mrs. han," he managed, his voice rough from disuse.

she looked up, her eyes crinkling at the corners with a smile. "good morning, beomgyu. off to school already? you look a bit pale," she said with a motherly concern that always made him feel a flicker of warmth.

"just a little tired, mrs. han," he replied, offering a weak smile. "those history essays won't write themselves, you know."

mrs. han chuckled. "always busy, that's you. but remember, dear, rest is important too. don't you burn yourself out."

"i'll try my best," he promised, though the words tasted like ashes in his mouth. he knew the truth – sleep was a luxury he couldn't afford.

beomgyu continued his walk, the rising sun painting the sky with streaks of orange and pink. the usual sights and sounds of the morning held a peculiar distance, muffled by the fog in his brain. the bakery across the street, usually a source of enticing aromas, only offered a dull ache in his stomach – a reminder of the breakfast he hadn't bothered with.

as he neared the school gates, the sounds of chatter started to seep in, a rising crescendo of greetings and nervous laughter. he braced himself for the usual barrage of hellos and high-fives, his trademark charm already feeling strained. beomgyu wasn't just tired, he was running on fumes, his charisma a flickering candle in a hurricane of exhaustion.

just as he predicted, a cheerful voice chimed in from beside him. "beomgyu! looking handsome as ever this morning, even at this ungodly hour."

he turned to see yeri, a girl from his class with a smile as bright as her sunflower hair clip. she was notorious for her bubbly personality and her unashamed crush on him. usually, beomgyu would respond with a playful jab or a witty remark, adding to the innocent flirtation. but today, a single word was all he could muster.

"hey," he croaked out, a smile barely flickering across his lips.

yeri's smile faltered slightly. "everything okay? you seem...out of it."

he shrugged, the movement feeling like wading through mud. "just a late night studying." it wasn't a complete lie, but the truth felt too heavy to share.

"well," yeri continued, her voice losing a bit of its usual chirp, "don't let it get you down. math class first thing, right? let's just hope ms. choi isn't in one of her moods."

there was a time when such a comment would have sparked a playful banter, a shared groan about their least favorite teacher. today, beomgyu merely nodded, a hollow feeling settling in his chest.

despite his exhaustion, beomgyu couldn't help but notice the way heads turned in his direction, the whispered greetings, the stolen glances. he was undeniably popular, the school's resident charmer. but the weight of that popularity felt like a suffocating cloak.

a group of guys from the basketball team hollered a greeting, their voices echoing off the lockers. beomgyu offered a weak wave, the movement seeming to drain the last vestiges of his energy. a couple of girls from the dance club giggled as they passed, their eyes lingering on him for a beat too long. all he could do was muster a tired smile, the effort feeling monumental.

he reached his locker, the familiar combination numbers a blur in his sleep-deprived haze. as he shoved his books inside, a hand landed on his shoulder. it was kai, his best friend, his partner in crime (or at least, they were when beomgyu had the energy for crime fighting). kai, unlike beomgyu, was a beacon of energy, his perpetually ruffled brown hair and mischievous grin a constant source of amusement.

"dude, you look like a deflated balloon," kai commented, his voice laced with concern. "another night?"

beomgyu slammed his locker shut with a sigh that spoke volumes. "yeah," he mumbled, leaning against the cold metal for support.

kai's brow furrowed. "seriously, beomgyu. you've been like this for weeks. we talked about this already! you said you’d try anything besides looking like you haven't slept since kindergarten."

beomgyu ran a hand through his hair, a grimace creasing his face for a moment before smoothing out into a tired indifference. "yeah, yeah," he mumbled, more to himself than to kai. "it's whatever at this point."

kai's concern flickered, then died down as he picked up on the subtle shift in beomgyu's demeanor. he knew that tone – the one that said beomgyu was resigned, shutting himself off. pushing wouldn't help.

"alright," kai said, switching gears with the practiced ease, “come on, zombie boy. let's get to class before ms. choi starts discussing the square root of boredom."

the morning dragged on, each class blending into the next in a haze of exhaustion and boredom. beomgyu could barely keep his eyes open, let alone focus on the lectures. 

his first class was math, and he trudged to his seat, slumping down with a heavy sigh. he rummaged through his bag, only to realize he had forgotten his pen.

“hey, taehyun,” he whispered to the boy sitting next to him. “got a pen i can borrow?”

taehyun glanced at him and chuckled softly. “forgot yours again? here.” he handed beomgyu a pen, shaking his head in amusement.

“thanks, man,” beomgyu muttered, trying to muster a grateful smile. he opened his notebook and attempted to take notes, but his eyelids felt like lead weights. the teacher’s voice droned on, a monotonous hum that only made him feel sleepier.

his head began to nod, his vision blurring as he struggled to stay awake. just as he was about to give in to the sweet embrace of sleep, he heard his name being called.

“mr. choi,” the teacher’s voice was sharp and reprimanding. beomgyu jolted awake, blinking rapidly.

“y-yes?” he stammered, sitting up straight.

“care to repeat what i just said?” the teacher asked, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

beomgyu’s mind went blank. he hadn’t heard a single word. “uh… something about calculus?” he guessed, hoping he was at least close.

the class snickered, and the teacher sighed in exasperation. “detention, mr. choi. maybe next time you’ll pay attention instead of dozing off in my class.”

beomgyu slumped back in his seat, cursing under his breath. “great. just fucking great,” he thought.

by the time lunch rolled around, beomgyu was ready to collapse. he shuffled towards the cafeteria, his head hanging low. he spotted his friends at their usual table and dragged himself over, the fluorescent lights feeling like a personal attack on his already throbbing head.

"yo, beomgyu!" yeonjun called out, waving him over. "you look like shit, man. rough night?"

beomgyu slumped into a chair, the metal groaning under his weight. a defeated grunt escaped his lips as he slumped his tray onto the table. "yeah," he mumbled, picking at his food with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

soobin, munching on an apple, raised an eyebrow. "again? dude, you really need to see a doctor or something."

beomgyu shrugged, picking at his food without much appetite. "what are they gonna do? prescribe me more useless meds? no thanks."

yeonjun leaned forward, concern etched on his face. "have you tried, like, meditation or something? i heard it can help."

beomgyu rolled his eyes. "yeah, 'cause sitting still and doing nothing is gonna magically cure my insomnia. thanks, but no thanks."

taehyun looked at him, frowning. "you really should try something, man. this can’t be good for you."

beomgyu sighed. "yeah, well, i’ve tried everything. nothing works. now i’ve got detention ‘cause i fell asleep in math."

taehyun winced. "harsh. what are you gonna do?"

"skip it, maybe. find a quiet place to sleep," beomgyu muttered, pushing his tray away.

beomgyu wandered the halls, his mind a jumble of thoughts and exhaustion. the school was a labyrinth of possibilities, each one fraught with its own set of risks and potential rewards. he needed to find the perfect place to nap, somewhere quiet and out of the way where no one would bother him.

places to (possibly) sleep 1) the janitor's closet

the first place that came to mind was the janitor’s closet. beomgyu had passed by it a million times, always noticing how the janitor, mr. lee, would leave it unlocked while he went about his duties. beomgyu headed towards the closet, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. he carefully turned the knob and slipped inside.

the closet was small and dark, filled with cleaning supplies and equipment. the smell of bleach and disinfectant was strong, but beomgyu didn’t care. he saw a small space behind a stack of boxes and decided it would have to do. he crouched down, wedging himself into the cramped space. the floor was cold and hard, but he was desperate for some rest.

he closed his eyes, trying to let the darkness and quiet lull him to sleep. just as he felt himself drifting off, the door creaked open. beomgyu’s eyes snapped open, and he held his breath. mr. lee stood in the doorway, a look of confusion quickly turning to annoyance on his face.

“hey! what are you doing in here?” mr. lee barked.

“shit,” beomgyu muttered under his breath. he scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding. “sorry, i—uh—i got lost?”

mr. lee narrowed his eyes. “out. now.”

beomgyu didn’t need to be told twice. he quickly slipped past the janitor and out into the hallway, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. so much for that.

places to (possibly) sleep 1) janitor’s closet 2) library

next, beomgyu decided to try the library. it was usually quiet, and he figured he might be able to find a secluded corner to catch some z’s. he made his way to the library, the scent of old books hitting him as soon as he stepped inside. the librarian, mrs. tanaka, gave him a stern look over her glasses, but he ignored her and began his search for the perfect spot.

the library was mostly empty, with only a few students scattered around, hunched over their books. beomgyu walked past the rows of shelves, looking for a place where he could hide from prying eyes. he found a spot in the back, behind a tall stack of books on astronomy. it was quiet, and he could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning.

he sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall, and pulled his knees to his chest. the cool air and the silence were soothing, and he felt his eyelids grow heavy. just as he was about to drift off, he heard footsteps. he peeked around the stack of books and saw a group of girls walking towards him, giggling and chatting.

“great,” he thought. “just great.”

the girls didn’t notice him at first, but as they got closer, one of them spotted him. she nudged her friend, and they both started whispering and giggling even louder. beomgyu felt his face heat up with annoyance and embarrassment. this was definitely not going to work.

he got up, brushing the dust off his pants, and made his way out of the library, ignoring the stares and whispers of the girls. “too many people and out in the open,” he thought. scratch that idea.

places to (possibly) sleep 1) janitor’s closet 2) library

beomgyu trudged on, defeat clinging to him like yesterday's gym clothes. he formulated a mental list in his head, each possibility crumpling under the weight of potential interruptions. the rooftop? too exposed. the music room? a rogue trumpet could shatter any hope of sleep.

his weary eyes scanned the familiar halls, a sliver of hope flickering as he rounded a corner. there it stood, a solitary figure against the twilight sky—the astronomy tower.

the tower, a relic of a bygone era of scientific exploration. its once-gleaming silver exterior was now weathered and rusted, the windows dark and vacant. It had been years since anyone had ventured inside, rumors of asbestos and ghosts swirling around it like dusty cobwebs.

but for beomgyu, in his desperate search for a haven, the tower's isolation was a siren song. no students lingered in its shadow, no teachers patrolled its perimeter. in that forgotten corner, a flicker of hope ignited. it might be dusty, it might be creepy, but it could be perfect. as he neared the tower, the details became more pronounced: chipped tiles forming the entrance walkway, a rusty weather vane groaning in the faint evening breeze, and the peeling paint revealing the faded inscription "ad astra per aspera" - "to the stars through difficulties." an odd prickle ran down his spine. the inscription felt oddly fitting, a challenge on this day of immense hardship. could the tower, in its own dilapidated way, be his path to the stars? to sleep, the most elusive star in his current reality? the door was old and creaky, and it took a bit of effort to push it open. just as he was about to reach for the door handle, the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day.

“fuck,” beomgyu muttered, feeling his shoulders slump in defeat. the observatory would have to wait. he decided then and there that he would check it out tomorrow during his free period. he turned and trudged back down the hallway, the prospect of a good nap tantalizingly out of reach.

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© 2024 seoulzie

[achaotichuman]

Fanfiction Rec Masterlist

This is my personal list of fanfiction recommendations. It's easy to get lost in the abyss of mindless, droning hate, and Pro-IC content in this fandom, and this is a safe space away from all of that.

All of these fics are free of Tamlin hate, and all of them are utterly beautiful, well-written and I love them.

Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra

A Court of Threads and Daises by @shi-daisy

Tragedy almost struck the Spring Court when Tamlin Evergreen tried to take his own life. Lucien Vanserra manages to save his former Lord, but not his power.

Now that the Spring Court has a new High Lord and the horrors of war are behind them, both Tamlin and Lucien agree to help the new heir navigate court life and attempt to rebuild the broken Spring Court, along with healing themselves.

They weren't expecting to fall back in love in the process.

A Second Chance by @goforth-ladymidnight

Modern ACOTAR AU – There is a reason that Tamlin disappeared from Lucien's life seven years ago. Lucien just doesn't know what it is. They were more than college roommates; they were best friends. Now, a chance encounter in a bookstore leaves both of them wondering if they can pick up where they left off. A new year is right around the corner, but there is no wiping Tamlin's slate clean. Featuring Jurian and Vassa in supporting roles, this is not a story of redemption, but of finding love—and forgiveness—in the most unlikely of places.

Lovely and Lonely by @praetorqueenreyna

"In hindsight, Lucien thinks he fell in love with Tamlin the moment he first laid eyes on him."

**************************

Lucien Vanserra must come to terms with his sexuality, and his complicated feelings for High Lord Tamlin.

A Court of Choices Made by Anonymous

Lucien decides to go after Tamlin to pick a fight after his first Winter Solstice with the Night Court.

I see red, I see nothing by AngryRamen

Lucien travels to Amarantha’s domain to try and bid for peace between her and the courts of Prythian. It doesn’t go well.

Still Beautiful, Still Mine by @goforth-ladymidnight

\Vanserra. ACOTAR AU - In the weeks following his visit to Amarantha’s Court Under the Mountain, Lucien is still recovering from the loss of his eye. Nuan has made him a replacement out of gold, but the scars on his face are there to stay. When Tamlin comes to see him, Lucien cannot help but relive the events that brought them to this point, if only he could focus on what's standing right in front of him...

A Sunbeam Shining Bright Into the Night by @nocasdatsgay

After the Great Rite ritual is completed, Tamlin always goes back to the Manor to see if Lucien is waiting for him. This year he is.

Forbidden by @nocasdatsgay

Calanmai has come once again, but Tamlin isn’t focused on the females waiting for him.

Breezing on by Sprighnt (SliPuP_Slit)

His focus was shattered when Feyre dropped onto the bench next to him with a dramatic sigh, “You won’t even say hi after you ditched us last week?”

Lucien rolled his eyes at her antics, “I didn’t ditch you, I was studying for math. The exam of a subject that I need days to prepare for, remember? I didn’t think you’d even notice me gone, what with all the ogling that takes up your time in our practices.”

“Shut up!” She shushed him, glancing around wildly for any eavesdroppers, “what if he heard you?”

——— Lucien has settled into a routine now. He’s finally able to go back to competing after an accident that had him wondering if he’d ever be able to skate competitively again, he’s out of his hellish childhood home, and has friends that make him happy.

By the Fountain by Sprighnt_(SliPuP_Slit)

Tamlin is tired of stuffy dinner parties, luckily, he has his best friend, Lucien, to make things more interesting.

———

Tamlin took the time to look at Lucien, who was staring at an elegant fountain nearby. He examined the dip of his nose, the scrunch of his brows, the slight part of his lips that indicated he was contemplating something. Then Lucien’s mouth set in a firm line, meaning he’d made up his mind on whatever the issue was.

Lucien glanced back at him and Tamlin startled at being caught watching. He placed his hand gently on Tamlin’s arm, “I don’t think my father will plan one for me either.”

New Springs by Sprighnt_(SliPuP_Slit)

“I can’t be here for as long as you,” she clarifies, gesturing to the forest around them.

“You’re leaving?”

She shrugs, “It’s nice here, but my sisters, my father, they’re my only family. Even if they’re, a little difficult at times, and I don’t want to hurt Tam. I was really in love with him, but, to put it plainly, I’m not like you.”

“Like me,” Lucien repeats, confused, “what do you mean?”

———

In another universe, an alternate timeline, Feyre says “I love you”, before she’s sent off and therefore breaks the curse the way it was supposed to be broken. Things are different.

absolution by @praetorqueenreyna

Things didn't work out between Feyre and Tamlin. Years later, they both find love in unexpected places

Beauteous Evening, Calm and Free by franklinarchive. Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

Tamlin heals and then he moves on.

Or, what if Sarah J. Maas hadn’t committed ‘character assassination’ against Tamlin?

When The Sun Came Up (I Was Looking At You) by pansexual_intellectual .

There was a slight choking sound from the Night Court side of the room, but when you looked, Lucien was expressionless, adjusting his doublet.

It was the worst idea you had ever had. In the shreds of your manor you dropped to your knees. He was gone in the morning, as you knew he would be.

a bridge between us by @yaralulu

“In less than a year, they’d already lost so many people, and yet they had to send another sentry beyond the wall today. And as they left, so did Tamlin. He’d once again left Lucien to tend to his wounds, and deal with his upcoming grief all his on own. He’d once again left Lucien alone in the manor, sorrowful and bitter and bubbling with worry he could no longer contain.

It’s why the sound of Tamlin winnowing back filled Lucien with relief like no other. Like releasing a breath he’d been holding for too long. Tamlin being home made Lucien feel like he could breathe again. No matter how hurt Lucien was by Tamlin, he’d always find himself standing outside his office, his need to see Tamlin overriding his common sense.”

Amidst the ruins of their fractured relationship, Lucien and Tamlin grasp for the fragile threads that once bound them together, desperately seeking solace in each other as they battle the curse placed upon Spring.

The Fox and The Hound by @samhatch

Every Fire Night since Lucien joined Spring Court, Tamlin has always sought him out to help release the last of the spirits that possessed him. But now that he's mated with Feyre, Tamlin won't need Lucien's help anymore... Or will he? ********************************************************** “I thought you wouldn’t come.” I admitted. I tried to keep my heart from beating too quickly, knowing his heightened senses could hear it. He said nothing in reply, and walked slowly toward me. As gently as the morning dew, he pressed his lips to mine, but I could feel the hunger behind it barely kept at bay. His scent filled my nose, trampled moss and lilac. “What about Feyre?” I asked. “She’s asleep,” he said as he crawled into my bed.

Violated by @sonics-atelier

Headcannon : Tamlin wakes up and when he sees Luciens red hair he's reminded of his experiences with Amarantha .

Serenading by @sonics-atelier

Summary : Traditions dictate that the High Lord must serenade the fae they wish to woo as a partner for Calanmai.

Perfect to me by @sonics-atelier

Spring has breathed life into the earth, with roots anchoring deep and flowers unfurling in vibrant bloom, yet their High Lord remains untouched by such renewal. Lucien, resolute and unyielding, embarks on a quest to uncover the truth behind the silent torment that holds his lord captive.

Tamlin/Rhysand

Wildflower by @mathiwrites.

Five hundred years before Feyre’s arrival in Prythian, the humans fought against Faeries, led by the King of Hybern, for their Freedom. Tamlin is only seven years old when the war begins, but his family’s involvement and a fated friendship with a handsome young Lord from the Night Court will change his life forever. This is the story of how he becomes the High Lord you know and love, and the redemption story nobody asked for.

TL;DR - before they were enemies, they touched butts.

A strange thing happened the night of the High Lord meeting by @umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken.

Tamlin shook his head, a small smile on his full lips. “You forget that we were closer than friends once. I know your face. Even when you think you’re being so clever, hiding behind that mask of impassivity, I see you.”

He snarled, even as his heart began to beat faster as the other male approached him.

“You think I didn’t see you? You couldn’t stop looking at me during that meeting.” He took another step closer, and his next words were tinged with playfulness, a hint of the Tamlin he’d used to know.

“Were you thinking of that night too?”

He froze. “What?”

In the Eyes of My Beloved by Alynaw66.

I promise, Rhysand sighs into his mouth; Then down onto the slight curve between his neck and shoulder. Tamlin shivers, feeling dazed. Overwhelmed.

“Another offer,” he begins, one hand sliding down to grip Tamlin’s narrow waist.

(Also fun fact about this fic, I was brought to Tumblr because of a link in the notes, so without this fiction I wouldn't be here)

Stay or Go? by SoulOfStars.

Both of their families are dead. Rhysand decides to stay. They fuck in the second chapter.

Burning Batter by Sprighnt_(SliPuP_Slit).

Rhysand comes over to make cupcakes with Tamlin for Feyre’s upcoming New Year’s party.

A Court of Lies and Resurrection by @ashintheairlikesnow.

AU: Feyre is dead, torn apart by Amarantha when Tamlin did not send her away in time. Tamlin, forced to submit to Amarantha's terms, finds himself looking for help (and finding affection) in places he never expected, while Lucien allies with an ancient enemy (and one of Rhys's closest friends) to save him. WARNING Extensive explicit adult content, sexual situations, violence, MA

Colors in a Dead Garden by @fourteentrout.

"It is not just an ancient enchantment that they’re dealing with, it is not just an incompetent, broken High Lord that never even asked for his position. It is the fall of the Spring Court."

With the fate of the mortal lands--and possibly the rest of Prythian--at stake, Rhysand has to confront the Court that has caused so much of his pain and suffering. The male whose claws have sunk into Rhysand's life time and time again over the centuries.

For Prythian, Rhysand finds that he has to reckon with parts of himself and his past that he's been burying for hundreds of years, and find the cure to a curse from another time in the process.

The Solution by @fourteentrout.

Nyx attends his first formal Courtly event as a grown Faerie. Well, as grown as a nineteen year old can be. His parents' past with their host remains shrouded in mystery, and Nyx finds that he develops a somewhat unruly attraction to the High Lord of the Spring Court.

It does not go how he expected it to.

AKA Nyx is unbearably horny and nothing works out in his favor. Tamlin, on the other hand...

no one left to grieve by @praetorqueenreyna.

A month after the tragedy that made both him and Tamlin High Lords, Rhysand returns to the Spring Court to finish the job.

***********

For Tamlin Week, Day 1: Heir of Spring

To have, to hold by @flowerflamestars.

“You picked the wrong one,” Tamlin laughed.

you up? by @praetorqueenreyna.

Tamlin accidentally texts a "personal" picture to Rhysand

Nighttime in Spring by star_stealing_girl.

A longing was in Tamlin’s green eyes, and his fingers twirled in the dark strands of Rhys’s hair. Rhys wondered if he, too, was remembering that magical Calanmai, so long ago that it was like a dream. Rhys seemed to feel the pulse of the drums in every beat of his heart. The singing and carousing was like a chant in his blood.

***

Rhys tries to convince Tamlin to participate in Calanmai this year, and the music and magic awaken old memories. Will it awaken a renewed desire between the two old friends? This fic is set a few years after the events of ACOSF, and is a short romance between Rhys and Tamlin.

Lay Me on the Cold Dark Earth by @witch-and-her-witcher

Maybe the whiskey had been spiked. Maybe Tamlin was hallucinating on faerie dust right now and Rhys wasn't actually asking what he thought he was.

Rhys snarled with the darkness of his powers behind it.

Tamlin snarled right back, the beast instinctually roaring beneath his too-tight skin.

"I'm asking for that," Rhys said, unrelenting. "I want you to unleash that beast begging to stretch its legs."

Darling by @lifeisabiscuit

A different view of what could have happened when Rhysand visited Tamlin in fas.

Nyx/Tamlin

A Court of Chaos and Darkness by @witch-and-her-witcher.

Fate isn't done screwing with Tamlin's life, but this time the collateral is his ex-lovers son.

The heir of the Night Court knows something is wrong with him that his family won't tell him and Nyx is ready to come out of the dark.

Cosmogeny by @highlordofkrypton

The world is in ruins. Humans and Faeries pick at each other’s teeth until the bone is whittled from flesh and all that is left is blood in their wake. They had been created equal, once. To think, they’d all fall prey to their own hubris. This is not what the Goddesses wanted. To Prythian, they are sending scouts to decide whether their world is worth saving, or whether it should be devoured and remade anew.

This is a dark fantasy, eldritch horror fic that may end up being unserious more often than not.

Tamlin/Eris Vanserra

devour by @praetorqueenreyna

Tamlin invites Eris to participate in Calanmai.

***************

For Eris Week 2023 Day 3: Fire

heaven sent a hurricane by @praetorqueenreyna. Vanserra. After his family is killed and he is crowned High Lord, Tamlin struggles to keep his Court under his control. (Un)Luckily for him, Eris Vanserra steps in to help.

Tamlin/Tarquin

A Court of Beasts and Chances by M4r0u_Mar.

About a Beast who must be prince and a Prince who wants to be beast. About a Prince who learns of second chances and a Beast who learns of redemption. About looking for love and finding it in the journey rather than the destination.

Or the one where I rewrite ACOTAR to make Tamlin and Tarquin mates.

Tamlin/Feyre Archeron

The Gown by @goforth-ladymidnight

"I really, truly hated my wedding gown. It was a monstrosity of tulle and chiffon and gossamer, so unlike the loose gowns I usually wore: the bodice fitted, the neckline curved to plump my breasts, and the skirts… The skirts were a sparkling tent, practically floating in the balmy spring air." ~ A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas

A somewhat canon-compliant look at what Tamlin might have said or done when he sees Feyre in "The Dress" for the very first time. Inspired by a prompt on Tumblr.

Nesta Archeron/Tamlin

A House of Flame and Flower by Mellowenglishgal.

“Spare me the self-righteous lecturing, Feyre. You and your new family believe yourselves superior: that anyone who is not deemed worthy by you must bow or be eliminated. I refuse to bow to those I do not respect: and I owe none of you any such obligation. Nor am I obligated to remain where my autonomy is threatened,” Nesta sighed, gentle yet commanding, her voice low and steady and unyielding. “I renounce all ties to the Night Court. From now on, you are no longer my sister.”

“Where will you go?” Feyre snapped, but Nesta saw it: the sudden realisation that Nesta meant every word.

“That is no longer your business. Goodbye, Feyre,” Nesta said softly. She rose to her feet, elegant as an empress despite her unkempt clothing. As she stared down her youngest sister, Nesta caressed the delicious power shimmering like slumbering embers deep in her heart, until her veins sang with silver fire, pure light, blistering heat, deadly yet silent.

Flame was silent: everything it met shattered and snapped, disintegrating, unable to withstand it.

She was flame. She was undiluted, unrefined, unapologetic power.

She told Feyre, “You will not hear from me again.”

Nesta Archeron/Eris Vanserra

A Court of Blaze & Sorrow by @shi-daisy

(Sequel to A Court of Threads & Daisies)

Nesta Acheron had known from early childhood she'd be wearing a mask. She thought she'd wear it for the rest of her life. Until she tore it off on the eve of her wedding. Intending to stop Rhysand's plans to become High King, she takes to the Autumn Court, where she finds more that she bargained for with the Vanserra family. Particularly Eris Vanserra.

Eris wore his mask to keep everything and everyone in place hoping that one day he'd inherit the Autumn Court from his cruel father and changed it for the better. He didn't know fate had diffrent plans for him when Lady Nesta Acheron sought him out to end Rhysand's tyranny.

Free from Night's grasp the pair must navigate Court life, family drama and romance, hoping to mend both their lives and hearts.\

With a Sense of Poise and Rationality by @kateprincessofbluewhales

Nesta finds herself, yet again, with her life turned upside down on her and Cassian's wedding day. One shot exapanded!

Other

In This Peace Series by @trshtffc, the first fiction in the series is completed The Sorceress . Tamlin/Original Female Character.

Seven years after ACOWAR, Spring Court is struggling to keep from falling apart completely. A mother tries to move on and keep her daughter safe in this chaotic world, but when the young female most needs a friend, she'll give the disgraced High Lord a chance to attone for the pain he has caused, and, perhaps, to finally heal.

TW for - mentions of suicidal thoughts - mentions of loss of a pregnancy - mentions of sexual abuse - mentions of emotional abuse (toxic relationships and toxic family dinamics) - colourism - LGBT+phobia

Needle & King by @highlordofkrypton. Rhysand's father/Rhysand's mother.

Before A Court of Thorns and Roses and before Wildflowers, Needle & King is a story of survival and of love. We all know how it ends for Rhysand's mother and his father, but how did it all begin?

***

Everyone feel free to add to this and ofc shameless self promo, you can find more pro Tamlin fics in my masterlist here

[naffeclipse]

What would SJ eclipse be like as a Naga? 👀 absolutely terrifying, I'm sure lmao!! Also, what would SJ! Eclipse think of the photographer? Mashing aus so hard right now I'm frothing at the mouth 😭😭

Oh no. Naga SJ Eclipse is just as terrible as a four-arm Eclipse! He shouldn't be given any more means to grab and bruise you than he already has smh

That being said—

He has black and burgundy scales with red markings like diamonds full of warning up and down his tail. The frills adorning his head are dark and terrifying, like a poisonous black-blue flower. He's powerful, swift, and precise with his kills.

He doesn't think much of the photographer; an easy meal. That is until he realizes you are more respectful of the jungle and the creatures than most humans, and he watches how you stare in quiet reverence at the forces at work around you. You intrigue him. Mostly, he wants to see how quickly he can break you. Which, to his chagrin, isn't as easy as he suspects it to be.

With you, he's obsessed. He hates that you're not bending under his will despite your fear. Your every encounter with him involves you being tugged and twisted around like a little doll made to dance. His strength is terrifying. His size is overwhelming. He'll trap you in his coils until you stop squirming—until you learn that you can't keep fighting because if you do, he'll crush you.

That's the threat he likes to snarl. The promise chills your very marrow.

He leaves you bruised when you try to talk back to him and keep attempting to escape his claws. His loops twist around you just enough to give you a half-second of panic, unable to fill your lungs enough to breathe, but he loosens his grip before you choke. This, however, leaves the skin over your ribs colored in deep violets and indigo splatters. You're afraid he wants to see what he's done—his claws trace the bottom of your shirt, searching.

If he's feeling generous enough, he'll grab you by the wrists and drag you closer, close enough to hiss in your ear that he wouldn't have to be so rough if you behaved. He has a particularly nasty habit of grabbing your chin when you refuse to look at him. His hellish orange eyes flash when you whimper or gasp, but it's not enough—he wants you under his thumb. You'll give in. You'll see that the only way is his way.

[winwintea]

↬ 𝙽𝙲𝚃 𝙳𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙼

𝚘𝚝7

reactions ✒        first kiss (☆) ✒        walked in on you changing? ✒        bailing you out of jail ✒        helping with homework

imagines ✒        disney world boyfriend (☆) ✒        flight seatmate ✒        meeting their kid for the first time + as a parent (☆)

text reactions ✒        "let's breakup" ✒        "i'm at the hospital"

character study ✒        what they look for in a relationship (☆)

𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚕𝚎𝚎

mark lee vs. the world ✒         social media au, scott pilgrim au, ongoing

↬ mark has never wanted anything in his life. the lead bassist for 'dream on', unemployed, and quite literally a loser, mark expects he's hit rock bottom from here. that is until you, the girl of his dreams quite literally skates out of his dreams and into his life. mark has never wanted anything more. but is love really worth the emotional baggage when you have seven evil exes, who each possess superpowers and are intent on defeating him?

inyun (☆) ✒         3.7k words (past lives au, fluff)

↬ when you move into a small apartment complex in seoul, your next-door neighbor, mark lee, seems like nothing more than an ordinary guy. but as the two of you get to know each other more, it suddenly feels like you’ve known him forever. then mark mentions his grandmother's belief in 인연. the idea that every encounter is woven by threads of fate. are these coincidences between you and mark really accidental or is there something deeper going on?

the last hope (old) ✒         2.8k words (angst)

↬ [part of the last love series] you've fallen in love with mark, the soldier who wishes to protect the country. His life is a brilliantly burning flame, whereas yours is nearly completely, gone. no matter how much pain it causes, you'll never love another like him. even as he walks away to his main purpose in life.

𝚑𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚗

the last dance (old) ✒         3.7k words (angst)

↬ [part of the last love series] you've fallen in love with the gentle painter, renjun. though the locals call you a witch, renjun doesn't seem to care. but that all changes when they come to kill you. no matter how much pain it causes, you'll never regret falling in love with him.

belladonna! ✒         social media au, ongoing

↬ you've been tasked with visting and inspecting the grand rose theatre, a theatre that's been plagued with mysteries over the years. all seems well, until a string of murders follows your visit. as you further investigate, you find yourself falling for huang renjun, the beautiful male lead, and your mystery murderer who leaves you love notes and clues about who they could potentially be. will you be smart enough to be a step ahead of the killer? or will you find yourself caught within their trap?

paranoia ✒         5.2k words, (horror, thriller, supernatural)

↬ nightmares to reality. devotion to madness. can you tell what's real and what's fake? who's the true monster in the end?

pet names

𝚕𝚎𝚎 𝚓𝚎𝚗𝚘

underneath the tree (☆) ✒         social media au, ongoing

↬  you’ve heard enough of the word ‘christmas’ and it was only the beginning of december! sometimes you’d wish people would just throw their cheerfulness out the window and focus on reality. unfortunately for you lee jeno has just drawn your name for the company’s annual secret santa swinter swap and he’s going to make sure you get a gift you’ll never forget. (and maybe even get you to appreciate christmas along the way?)

on my bike ✒         14.7k words, (action, romance, marvel au, superhero au)

↬  after a brutal attack, stunt motorcyclist lee jeno stumbles upon a cursed bike and becomes the ghost rider. now bound to the spirit of vengeance, he fights to control his hellish powers while you, his childhood best friend, fall under the influence of a powerful telepath. as your own abilities awaken and tensions ignite, one question remains: will you save each other or burn together?

𝚕𝚎𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚢𝚞𝚌𝚔

perfect strangers ✒         4.0k words (smut)

↬ one night, you fell in love with a man who would come to you the next morning as your doctor. unfortunately, you were betrothed to someone else, but you wanted to feel what love really was. "whatever choices we make, just know that my heart is yours."

𝚗𝚊 𝚓𝚊𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗

that's okay (☆) ✒         3.7k words (fluff, enemies to lovers)

↬ you’re determined to outshine your academic rival na jaemin, the campus heartthrob infamous for his frivolous reputation. but when a few too many drinks suddenly ropes you into a fake dating scheme with jaemin, you realize that there’s much more to him than his playboy persona. can two opposites navigate a connection that’s anything but fake?

wicked love ✒         5.4k words (horror/thriller)

↬ his love is perfect. but perfection comes with a price.

pet names

𝚣𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚕𝚎

heart to heart ✒         3.7k words (fluff, romance)

↬ what happens when you discover you have the ability to read chenle's mind?

secure that once upon a time! ✒         4.3k words (romance, fluff)

↬ inspired by one of your favorite fairytales, chenle makes you feel just like cinderella for the night. but can you live up to society's expectations as the girlfriend of one of shanghai's most elite? an enchanting night with your prince may answer all your questions.

stop posting about BALLER (☆) ✒         1.3k words (crack, fluff)

↬ maybe your boyfriend's obsession with the sport was a little more extreme than you thought.

my apology letter (☆) ✒         3.0k words, (heavy angst)

↬ chenle always thought that love truly wins all. your relationship with him was filled with joy and connection. but lately, cracks have begun form. between small misunderstandings, unspoken frustrations, and the growing sense that he’s not enough for you, chenle begins to doubt his theory. is love enough to bridge the gaps between you or is letting go the ultimate act of love?

pet names boyfriend headcannons

[6:28 a.m.]

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚓𝚒𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚐

mutual affection (☆) ✒         2.6k words (fluff, meet cute, classmates to lovers)

↬ sometimes, love isn’t theoretical—it’s proven, one note at a time.

tetris ✒         10.1k words (fluff, romance, angst, 80s au, arcade games)

↬ living up to the pressures of becoming a famous tetris player might be hard for a guy like park jisung. but it's much more difficult when the girl he’s got a crush on may actually be his best friend's girlfriend.

hunger ✒         248 words (mini drabble)

boyfriend headcannons

↫ back

[saphira-artandoc]

C3 Swap AU

Orym of the Air Ashari

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This post can contain spoilers!

If you wonder what the swap AU is, I recommend checking it out right here!

Once again, major thanks to @theplatinumcritter for helping me out!

Title: Orym of the Air Ashari, Saviour Blade of the Tempest

Age: 36-37

Class: Fighter (Eldritch knight, lycanthrope)

EXU - Campaign 3 E69

Orym was born and raised in Zephrah by his mother Alma and their neighbor, Derrig and Nel. He never knew his biological father, only his last name being Tarrintel. He grew close with Derrig and Nel’s son Will, and eventually both fell and love. They married in their mid 20s around 833 P.D., and both worked as Tempest Blades knowing the risk for their relationship.

In 837 P.D., an assassin tried to take out the Voice of the Tempest, but ultimately failed to do so, only killing a handful of Blades instead. Unfortunately, both Will and Derrig perished during that attack, breaking Orym.

He left Zephrah a few weeks after the attack, needing to grieve.

During his solo travels, Orym has been ambushed by a werewolf, that eventually bite him during the fight. While he did survive the encounter, he had been afflicted with lycanthropy which made his travels even more hellish. He stayed away from civilization and opted to wear his sash around his neck as a scarf, hiding the bite mark left by the werewolf.

By the time Fearne found him in 842 P.D., he was relatively stable in his grief, but still hid his lycanthropy to her. She eventually found out about his curse one day after a full moon, but decided to stay with him on his journey. Dorian met their settlement a few days after the reveal of Orym’s curse, and the other members of the Crown Keepers soon joined in.

When the group found the Circlet of Barbed Vision, Orym was the one that propose to get rid of it and seek out the Fire Ashari to help, alongside of taking care of the residual they’ve found. Unfortunately, the Fire Ashari settled at the Flamereach outpost were already dealing with an issue, which prompted the Crown Keeper to volunteer to help. The circlet was later kept by the group, believing the Fire Ashari wouldn’t be able to help. After their fight with My’ratta Niselor, he would start to learn magic, integrating it to his fighting style.

In 843 P.D., Orym would be tasked to come back to Zephrah, the Voice of the Tempest having heard of a similar assassination taking place in Marquet. She said to Orym to seek out Oshad Breshio, a survivor of the attack. She would also let him know to travel with members of his group, opting for Fearne and Dorian to join him.

On a mission to Bassuras to get back Armand Treshi, Orym would discover that person responsible for the attack of Zephrah, was also the leader of the Seat of Disdain and a famed warrior of the Apex War, Otohan Thull. To have this wound reopened let Orym be cautious and warned Bells Hells of Thull’s assassins. It wouldn’t save him, as he fell in battle to Otohan. They recognized him, not only as the warrior of Zephrah, but as Tarrintel’s son. After the fight, a coin flip was done by FCG to decide who between Orym and Imogen would be revivified.

With Bells Hells, Orym learned to open up about his situation and let himself use his lycanthropy to help in dire situations. Although Chetney and Fearne wished he could bite them, he refused to do so, afraid of the consequences. He was proven right to be worried when Annaline of the Gorgynej mentioned that if Orym were to loose himself again to the beast’s control, then Bells Hells should not hesitate to put him down. He has kept himself in check ever since, not wanting to injure anyone else.

When the group had been separated by the Malleus Key’s activation, Orym woke up with Ashton and Laudna in Issylra. They would meet up with Deni$e Bembachula, Bor’Dor Dog’Son and Prism Grimpoppy. They help the civilians of Heartdell to assault the Dawnfather’s temple, which Bor’Dor had been happy to do. It was later revealed that Bor’Dor was a member of the Ruby Vanguard, and tried to kill his party. He failed to do so, dying to Laudna instead.

Orym would later made a deal with Morrigan, The Fatestitcher, to be strong enough to protect his friends in exchange of his eternal servitude to the hag when they come back from their mission on the Red Moon. With this bargain, his pupil changed from black to light green, and the standard vines and flowers on Seedling would change into dark ivy. He can still use Hex on his enemies with the bargain, but he also gain Vicious Vines. This abilities allows him to cast once per day Entangle by using the ivy growth on his arms and, on a fail save by his foe, use Shocking Grasp on the vines without losing a spell slots, using them as a relay system. Ever since FCG’s sacrifice, it is unknown if his bargain is still up.

While not clarified as partners, his current love interest is Dorian, who is also reciprocating his feelings.

Masquerade ball

Like his canon counterpart, Orym opt for a sherwami style coat with roomy pants buckling at the ankles. Instead of his sash, he wears a light reddish scarf to hide the scar on his neck. His mask is one of a wolf, made with the help of Chetney using cherry wood from Zephrah. On the day of the ball, Orym added some druidcrafted cherry blossom to the mask, completing his outfit.

He wears his shield as a decoration and has hidden a dagger to his leg thanks to his roomy pants. He was also able to bond to his sword, manifesting it during the fight against Emoth Kade.

Return to Zephrah - Saviour Blade of the Tempest

Back home with his friends, Orym prepared himself for the treks ahead with a new armours made of leather. He also wears the sash back around his waits into a belt, with a blue decorative rope with tassels combined to the sash. He also wears more teal, to have a bit of home back with him. His hair had been cut a little by Deni$e before leaving, and he styled it into a braids that ties into a little ponytail. Forget-me-nots and laurel leaves are druicrafted behind his ears, complementing the design.

He received the title of Saviour Blade of the Tempest by Keyleth, after coming back from their mission on the Grey Valley where they rescued the lost Tempest Blades tasked to find the blue perennem flowers to heal her.

Vasselheim - Preparing for battle

In Vasselheim, he upgraded himself with the Zephyr armour Dorian bought for him.

Since the deal with Morrigan the Fatestitcher, some things changed to his physiology. His pupils are a light green instead of black, and dark ivy vines are growing from his body and around Seedling. Ivy flowers are also decorating him, although scarcely. His hair has grown a bit and covers again part of his vision, but he kept the braids in place.

Lycanthropy

Orym can transform into a werewolf at will, or under a full moon. He has longer hair due to the curse, accelerating its growth faster than a standard humanoid.

During the fight with MirDor, a Doppelgänger resembling Dorian, Orym would fail to resist a Dominate Person spell cast by the Fey creature. Under the control of the Fey, Orym transformed into a werewolf and attacked his friends, biting Dorian in the process. After the fight, Orym told the Crown Keepers he’d understand if they weren’t willing to stick around with him and his condition, but they refused to leave him, just like Fearne did.

When he and Bells Hells fought against Ira, Chetney, their newly acquired party member, knew the telltale of his curse and told him to release it.

On the Silver Sun, a Ruidus flare had influence on his lycanthropy, making him lash out at Fearne and Chetney. It was later revealed by the Weave Mind they could have power over lycanthropes with the flares.

With recent development, his werewolf appearance wears a light layer of clothing, the sash, and has ivy covering his upper body. Orym rarely transforms into a werewolf willingly, since the process is painful for him.

Estranged family - Tarrintel

Tarrintel is Orym’s biological father and a potion maker. He is also an Exaltant, and worked for the Cerberus Assembly and the Ruby Vanguards to create the Potions of Possibilities.

Contrary to his canon variant, Tarrintel stayed with Alma longer after the birth of their son, but ultimately left Zephrah out of fear for his child to become like him. Even if Alma told him he shouldn’t have to worry about their son being born under a flare from Ruidus, he needed proofs. He left Alma, promising he’d get back to her and their child, but never stepped a foot in Zephrah in the last thirty years since he left.

He had been part of a study made by the Omen Archive in Yios around 831 P.D., before he had been found by Otohan Thull and Ludinus. The elf promised him he’d find all the answers he’d needed if he trusted him, and Tarrintel fell for it.

In 837 P.D., Otohan Thull would attack the Voice of the Tempest, trying to taunt the Champion of the Matron of Raven, but failed, only killing a few Tempest Blade. He was immediately worried for his family to be caught by the crossfire, but realized it is too late to help them now, as he is too deep into Ludinus’ plans to turn back.

With his Exaltant abilities, he investigated possible Vessels for Predathos by visiting the dreams of Ruidusborns and Exaltants, and would ask them to join their cause. This is how he first contacted Imogen and Ashton, seeing the potential inside them.

By the time he found out Orym was travelling with them, he demanded Imogen to go away and forget about the excavation site. Bells Hells wanted to put an end to Ludinus’ plan, and Imogen tried to converse with him, asking Tarrintel to switch side. He, however, hadn’t been swayed, and stood by Ludinus’ side and proceed with their original plan of trapping the Champion of the Matron of Raven.

On Ruidus, he had been warned of possible dangers that would befalls him via Imogen, which he tried to shrug off. After a failed assassination attempt, Tarrintel would eventually switch side and work as a double agent for Bells Hells. This would lead to his downfall, with Ludinus finding out of his betrayal and use the harness on Tarrintel to kill him. As he felt his body slowly turn into dust, Tarrintel would invoke a dream on Imogen and Ashton, asking them to kill Ludinus and tell Orym he is sorry for everything. He was rescued by Bells Hells, but his Exaltant powers were absorbed by the new version of the Quintessence Array, leaving him weak and pale and his connection to Predathos nonexistent.

Relationships

Alma: One of the few midwives of Zephrah and Orym’s mother. She raised him with the help of Derrig and Nel, their neighbor. When asking about his father, she mentioned his last name, that he was a potion maker and he had to leave to seek out answers. Alma is very proud of her son, and only wish for him to come back home safe.

Will: Orym’s late husband. Both were friends since childhood, often getting into troubles with Fearne in their teenage years. He was the one who came up with the nickname Big Moon, Little Moon and later propose to him. They discussed of their future and the possibility of adopting a child at some point, but those plans quickly fell at Will’s death. Even in death, Will looked over Orym and was the one who pushed him into living again, and not stay in his shadow.

The Crown Keepers: The first group of people that accepted Orym for what he is since the reveal of his curse. He is deeply protective of all of them, and was worried of what the Circlet of Barbed Vision would bring. While he felt desolate at Opal wearing the Vestige, he accepted it was only a form of power, but tried to keep a close eye on her condition.

Fearne Calloway: Orym knows Fearne since her arrival to Zephrah with her family, becoming an older brother figure to her. She would leave in 842 P.D. to find him, and has been travelling with him ever since. When she was younger, she would pull Orym and Will into her shenanigans, often time ending with Orym becoming the voice of reasons of their trio.

Dorian Storm: Orym’s love interest and close friend. Both made a deal to each other to not let the other go on a dark path since the battle at the Feywild gate in Tal’Dorei, which Orym tried his best to keep. He had been more affected by Dorian leaving than he thought, sometime being reminded of him in every blue things he sees. When he recognized he began falling for Dorian, Orym had been afraid of pursuing them, not knowing if it was okay for him to love again after Will. He would eventually confesses to Dorian inside Caleb’s towers, which Dorian reciprocated. They would both kiss the next day, promising to discover this blossoming relationship once the fight is over. He let Orym ride on Coriolis to have better range against Ludinus, to which Orym was grateful of and kissed his cheek as thanks.

Chetney: Chetney is what Orym would equivalent to the odd grandfather at Winter Crest who shares some of the wildest story, which you don’t even know if they are true. He does eventually warm up the Chetney, even relaying on him to make sure if he goes out of control, he can handle it. This made Chetney become one of the main target of his attacks when out of control.

Tarrintel: Orym’s estranged father. Both Tarrintel and Orym share a few similarities in appearance, mainly with their green eyes and brown hair. Orym even posed as Tarrintel to gain informations on the Ruby Vanguard druid and Ratanish, with various levels of success. He never bothered looking for his father, believing he was dead. At the discovery Tarrintel had been working for Ludinus and by extend, Otohan Thull, Orym was angry. He was, however, open to learn more about him when he choose to switch side, discovering all of his work for Ludinus had been done *for Orym*, since Tarrintel didn’t know if Orym would develop the same curse as he has. Orym wouldn’t forgive him for abandoning his mother nor working with Otohan and not doing anything to stop her from attacking Zephrah. When he learned Tarrintel was in danger and sucked into the harness by Ludinus, Orym was quick to react to the situation and ready to help save him. He might not be the greatest of father, but he was still a victim of Ludinus’ machination and he wouldn’t let that man take another life. Bells Hells manage to push back the Ruby Vanguard keeping him and Ludinus. Orym, with the help of Dorian’s steed Coriolis and a well-placed Forcecage cast by the bard, rescued Tarrintel.

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And that’s an all for Orym! However, be warned that our next character might not be showcased until I get a new laptop. Sorry FCG…

[vindextra]

Breakpoints: Beginnings

My friends, If I may let myself be a little self aggrandizing, I am so happy to release the first chapter of my mega-fic project: Breakpoints. I've been cooking this AU for over a year, and I have some hefty outlines, character arcs and worldbuilding working in the background to bring this story to life.

Life is full of pivotal moments where one single thing can change everything that follows. Quinn is just a normal kid who finally got himself out of a bad place. When a strange old man keeps staring him down from a sewer grate, he decides to investigate a little further. Callie and Marie are pop idols at the peak of their careers when they learn their grandfather has been kidnapped. Ahato is just a simple technician, trying to get through each grueling day of her life underground. Marina, the Head Engineer, is a symbol to all, a goal everyone in the domes should aspire to be like. The pressure to be perfect is killing her. Arai is just a foot soldier being slowly driven to her breaking point by the increasingly harsh conditions of dome life. All of their lives are moments from changing, casting them into futures they couldn't even dream of.

Individual Chapter Links under the cut:

The Introduction Arc (Chapters 1-11)

Chapter 1: The Squid Sister's Tour

Callie and Marie are at the literal peak of their careers. The largest concert venue in the world, packed to the gills with their fans. In the silence after the show, the two receive a phone call from someone they don't know with some dire news.

Chapter 2: A Day In the Plaza

Meet Quinn Tidesplay, rookie apartment owner and part-time battle novice. Sharp kid, first time out on his own, left home with nothing but the clothes he wore and pouch of coins.

Chapter 3: More Days in the Plaza

Well, as odd as things were yesterday, life goes on. Back to the daily grind, where nothing abnormal should happen again.

Chapter 4: Squidbeak pt. 1

What was he thinking? Following a strange old man through a sewer grate???

Chapter 5: Squidbrak pt. 2

Armed with gear worth more than his life, and guided by the spirited old man from the grate, Quinn ventures into the Octavian domes for the first time.

Chapter 6: Routine

Now having officially initiated his new Agent, Craig waits for said agent to show up in the Plaza again the next day.

Chapter 7: Life as a Disabled Military Outcast

Ahato Mizuta is just a simple systems tech, despite her own wills. Nothing much interesting happens in her life, it's all just visit a system or Install this temporary system. Really, all she wants to do is make music, but it's better to not have the military mad at you.

Chapter 8: Rise and Fall

Head Engineer Marina Ida: brightest mind of her generation, role model to all soldiers, known for revolutionizing life in the domes twice over.Today, she performs the first test of the first Great Octoweapon, designed as an unmatched, unbeatable autonomous combatant.Assuming the test is successful, the growing menace of Agent Three shall end, and the first blows of a new war shall be dealt.

Chapter 9: Preparations

The defeat of the Octostomp marks a turning point for the afflicted parties, though none realize just how pivotal of a moment it was.The Head Engineer struggles with her failure and if the little she gained from the encounter was worth all she lost.Quinn prepares to return to the domes yet again, scouting for more zapfish to reclaim.And Arai, well, she's forced to deal with the mess the other two have made (against her own will, might she add).

Chapter 10: Squids in a Barrel

Just another routine scouting mission. What could go wrong?

Chapter 11: Contact

After making it to the surface, Quinn has a new mission. Reach out to Agents One and Two for help.

The Distrust Arc (Chapters 12-21)

Chapter 12: Finally Back Home (And Everything's Different)

Finally coming off the end of a hellish, unending tour, Callie and Marie try to relax for a few moments before dealing with the emotions they had to shove to the side to perform on stage, and the Agent that brought them about.

Chapter 13: Unstoppable Force

Callie and Marie sprint into the domes after months of being away. There's no time to waste, Agent 3 could be in serious trouble!

Chapter 14: Immovable Objects

At last, the fated confrontation between Agent Three and the Squid Sisters.

Chapter 15: Captive Conversation

Marina's about at her limit at this point. Everything is pushing her closer and closer, but none so much as the old bastard locked in her lab with her.

Chapter 16: Message Received

Agent Three messed up. He messed up big time. THAT was his first meeting with the other agents? That was how everything started? It's ok, he can still salvage this. This can still work, he just needs to do everything right.

Chapter 17: Welcome Home

Coming at things with a fresh start and a new perspective, Quinn, sits with Agents One and Two to try and start over.

Chapter 18: Life as a Mildly Popular Underground DJ

Since running away from everything on the surface, Ahato's life had been... better. Things were honestly starting to look up for her. She was meeting people, making friends, and sharing her passions with people who genuinely cared. If only Marina could say the same...

Chapter 19: And Rise Again

Faced with the consequences of her worst mistake, and potentially on the verge of another, Marina tries to confront Ahato about the Octostomp incident.

Chapter 20: Soldier's Provisions

Agent 3 has been essentially one unending headache for everyone inside the domes. Thankfully, Arai's on her break shift, so it's not her problem for the next several hours.

Chapter 21: Burgers vs. Pizza

Splatfests: 24 hours of crazy fun for everybody. Unless you're the Squid Sisters, at least. The day-long show be exhausting, but at least they've got Quinn around to keep them company now.

The Show Stopper Arc (Chapters 22-30)

Chapter 22 - Prelude pt. 1

Arai has a meeting with her boss Marie receives an intimidating message Ahato chats with a friend Callie discusses the plan

Chapter 23 - Prelude pt. 2

Marina makes a choice Craig meets an old friend ...Quinn prepares for a fight

Chapter 24 - Enter the Octobot King

Let's Finish This!

[maybebitterxox]

CALLING ALL GENLOSER FAN ARTISTS!

TW // Descriptions of gore

This whole concept centres around a genloss AU, one that’s not too far from canon but is just a little bit more disturbing.

We know that, at least with Ranboo, Sneeg and Charlie, they’re controlled by various headwear; Ranboo his mask, Charlie his headphones in Episode 3 and Sneeg his hat. With Ranboo and Charlie, it’s made clear that taking it off is what regains the consciousness of the person; however, Ranboo is warned by Hetch that if he tries to take his mask off prematurely, his “whole face comes off with it”.

(We know this doesn’t apply with Charlie or Sneeg as their headpieces are removed easily, and Sneeg’s whole hat thing just feels like a big exception to everything, but sssshhh just pretend. As I said, this is based on an AU).

Now, Hetch was likely saying that just to convince him not to try to take the mask off. But what if he had been serious? Consider an AU where the mask is literally surgically attached to Ranboo’s face, and all the other headpieces being used to control other cast members are exactly the same, making it incredibly difficult, or even deadly, to remove them.

Now consider a group of frantic people, afraid, panicked and angry, who are willing to harm themselves to hellish extents by removing their headset objects to regain control. Consider one person on the carousel breaking free of the control and ripping masks, earpieces or hats off of the rest of the cast in a panicked state in an attempt to save them too, or multiple people working together to remove controlling devices from another cast member who cannot do it themselves.

Thus is born a gory fanart idea of the characters having tried to rip away the thing keeping them under control, or of another character having done it for them. Here’s kind of how I imagine it would look like:

Earpieces: This is one that will work with any character, because if you look in the episodes, you will see all of them wearing obvious earpieces for communication purposes (Ranboo talked about how there was no real way to hide these earpieces, much like the cameramen in episode 2 and 3, so they’re made to seem intentional and to fit in with the storyline. So yes, they’re canon). To get something attached to the ear off wouldn’t be the worst; in fact, it would be mild in comparison to most of the other options here. Maybe ripping it out would just badly injure the ear and damage the skin, maybe the whole ear would have to come off depending on how it’s been attached (which is plausible, ears are surprisingly easy to rip off). So you could really draw any of the characters like this, with a bloody, mangled ear and clutching the remains of the earpiece in their hand (or just the whole ear itself).

Regular face mask: Ranboo, the Ghouls and Jerma (the Puzzler) all wear a mask over the lower half of their face. The Puzzler’s is technically prosthetics, but let’s assume it somehow acts in the same manner. Skin would obviously be ripped away and maybe even flesh, which could give them a half zombie-esque look with holes that expose their teeth and gums. Very grim to picture but also cool. And in Ranboo’s case, maybe he would have to cut the wires out from his neck as they could be attached there too, or down his back.

Rat Face Mask: A good three quarters of their face skinned and ripped away. Their eyes and mouth/general lower face area would be fine, but the rest… ouch. Also a zombie-esq look like the regular face mask, but more on the upper half of the face.

Showfall Media Mask: Yeahhh the employees get the worst deal out of this. Their entire face would be basically torn apart, but instead of blood, consider wires poking out of the rips in the flesh, or maybe even out of the eye sockets. I imagine you would see this after one of the cast would try to pull the mask off of an employee they encounter.

Hats: Okay, this one set up to look pretty stupid, as you would immediately imagine it taking all the hair off the top of their head, which would look ridiculous. But rather imagine wires maybe being threaded into the skull through the hat; maybe in a sewn on kind of way, maybe just with just multiple drilled holes in the head that the wires run down through. Wires would be trailing out of the head once the hat has been removed, or you would see them stitched into the skin under the hair. Blood would be soaking their hair and face, which would be pale because of the blood loss. Niki, Sneeg and Vinny apply here.

Glasses: Ethan and Charlie both have glasses, which are an easy deal, like the earpieces except better. Just ripping off skin/flesh where the glasses are attached, so the bridge of your nose and the side of your face. Painful, but won’t affect any of your necessary reflexes/senses such as hearing, sight or vision, and won’t kill you.

Headphones: As I mentioned earlier, Charlie’s headphones are removed without injury in episode 3, but ssshhh and just imagine. I would think that they would probably have wires connecting into his ears, so after they were taken off there would be loose wires poking from the ears and a lot of blood coming with it. Also probably a complete loss of hearing accompanying it, even though you can’t exactly draw that. That or both of the ears have to go.

Horns: Charlie also has his horns as The Spirit in Episode 1. This all depends on how you’d imagine them being attached to him; if you’re thinking like just fake horns on a simple band (like the actual prop used), then it would be a similar deal to the hat with the wires running into the skull along the band, most likely in a sewn style. If you like the idea more of two separate horns fully attached to his head, then just imagine they were stitched there and had to be pulled off. Yikes, poor Charlie.

You can also do combos. If a character has an earpiece and a hat, draw them as though they needed to rip both of these items off!

This is just a concept I came up with that I think would be really cool to see. No credit needed for the idea if you do take inspo from this, but do tag me in art as I love to see it!!

Also, just a little specific idea I have related to this is either Charlie in episode 3, Sneeg in episode 1 or just the carousel crew from episode 2 trying to remove Ranboo’s mask, maybe even just out of curiosity or ignorance, to horrible results. Very disturbing, but a good prompt for both fanartists and even fic writers I think

[usagirln12003]

Obanai Iguro: Hogwarts AU

Obanai Iguro was a Pureblood wizard that was born on the 15th of September 1970 and started attending Hogwarts on the 1st of September 1982, being sorted into Slytherin House.

He has a Red Oak wand with a Dragon Heartstring core.

His Patronus was a White Snake.

His favorite subject was Ancient Runes and his least favorite subject was Transfiguration.

Obanai is a very harsh and strict individual who shows no concern for those who do not abide by the rules of the Werewolf Capture Unit. His expectations for his fellow co-workers are quite unrealistic, as he was seen berating Tengen Uzui for suffering heavy wounds against the "weakest" Upper Rank and telling him to "fight to the death" when Tengen insists on retiring. Tengen's retirement also highlights Obanai's devotion to the future of the Werewolf Capture Unit, often at others' expense, such as when he ties up lower-ranked co-workers and uses them as obstacles during training for relatively petty reasons. He also sees the newer recruits as weak and incapable of improvement, expressing extreme surprise when Tengen informs him that Tanjiro Kamado survived the battle with Daki and Gyutaro. Obanai has a rather prominent habit of pointing at people with his finger in an accusatory manner while berating them or talking badly about someone.

Despite his merciless personality, there are two people he cares deeply about: Kagaya Ubuyashiki and Mitsuri Kanroji. He has a crush on Mitsuri, as he often lets his feelings shine through by sharing meals with her and giving gifts, such as the signature green socks she wears with her uniform. Obanai seems to let his overprotectiveness of Mitsuri show at times, such as when he threatens Tanjiro for growing too close to her. It was implied that he has a crush on Mitsuri because of her cheerful personality that didn't let any of the hellish training she had gone through to radiate in the slightest. Talking with her also made him forget all the strife and conflict he had encountered during his past and made him feel as if he was an ordinary young man. Like all the members of the Werewolf Capture Unit, Obanai has a great deal of respect for Kagaya too.

Obanai is also noted to possess an immense sense of self-loathing due to the fact that he was born to a selfish and immoral family who would mercilessly sacrifice even newborn children to a vampire for their own monetary gain. Obanai considers himself and his family so tainted that years after they were killed, he still felt as if his family were digging their nails into his skin to make sure he couldn't go anywhere. He even goes as far as to believe that, in order for him to ever be worthy of Mitsuri, he would first have to die and cleanse himself of his corrupted blood before confessing his feelings to her.

His upbringing also seems to be the cause of his gynophobia since he was born into a family of only women who treated him like a tool. The trauma of his past can also be seen in the form of his facial bandages that he dons to cover the terrible scars he received, never removing it until the final battle. In addition to the horrible treatment he received from his family, of being treated as a mere tool and sacrifice, Obanai was deeply affected by the words of resentment and hatred from his only surviving cousin when she said that the entire family died simply because he ran away. Although he recognized that her grudge and words were illogical, he chose to accept that he was at fault and even considered himself as corrupt as his family was, believing he was not worthy to live a normal life. This shows that despite the various unpleasant traits of his personality, Obanai actually has a conscience and morals, unlike his family.

Obanai has an incredible sense of determination, continuing the fight against Muzan even after he is completely blinded and covered in wounds. His ability to protect Giyu and Tanjiro throughout the fight, as well as thanking Tanjiro for helping him and later even took a blow for him proves that Obanai was able to drop his initial grudges and become more open with people he was rude to prior.

[fang-and-feather]

Ikemen Vampire - Isaac x OC x Jean - Soulmates AU

Planned to be a V relationship for now. this chapter is pre-relationship and focused on Amy, with some participation from Comte

Words: 1,057

Summary: Amy not only had two soulmate marks, a blurred mood mark that was always back and the other a zeroed timer, both somewhat faded. Until a trip to Paris and a mysterious encounter led her to go through a door that had her trapped in the 19th century. The timer now indicated she's met he soulmate, on a night she had contact with many new people. But who is it, and why does she have the second mark that still seems inactive?

I planned for this to be a full fic for my birthday ended up being just the short start of a series.

Next Chapter / IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

Everyone Amy knew had one clear soulmate link, be it a physical mark, a bond only them could see or even a more spiritual connection. They always knew there was this person out there that was made for them, no matter how they reacted to that knowledge.

She, on the other hand, had two different links, a blurred, tattoo-like one in her right wrist, that was supposed to be a mood mark but was always black, and a zeroed counter on the left, both of them quite faded.

Everyone around her was so confused, and ended up treating her with pity, because she would never meet that soulmate, or one of them would die, or other depressing explanations they came up with to explain her strange marks. Amy took to hiding them and pretending like she didn’t care to meet that soulmate.

As much as she would rather not lie, especially to her sisters, she couldn’t take that treatment anymore.

Until she had to take her clothes off for some reason, it was so easy to pretend she didn’t have these marks and didn’t care about it. To pretend she was one of the rare people who didn’t have soulmates. Easy to pretend her life was normal.

But this trip to Paris had been difficult. The city of love was like a flashing sign of what she didn’t have. To the point a chance meeting had her wishing she could just fall in love with someone else and move on. She would have jumped at the opportunity that encounter presented if that mysterious gentleman was actually her type.

Still he was quite curious. He had that air about him of a good puzzle to pierce together, and of memories she would rather forget, but she was drawn to anyway.

And that led her to that suspicious door, that reeked of dust and things forgotten, of time lost and shadows.

That was probably her imagination, though, and Amy walked in, determined to prove herself wrong. But the moment she stepped on the other side, she knew it was true, and that she had made a mistake, despite her superficial attempts at rejecting such a notion. Until proven otherwise. Then there was no more escape.

But at the time she cursed her luck, without realizing what it would bring her.

The day that changed it all started like a nightmare. She had several nightmares that night, with vampires, - Sebastian told her he was joking after saying everyone in the house was a vampire, but she had this sickly feeling that he wasn’t, - and with her past. Then Comte had insisted on taking her shopping - which Amy only agreed because she doubted in a month she wouldn’t have to go to the city once - which meant a fifteen minutes, hellish carriage ride.

“What is bothering you, chérie?”He had to notice, didn’t he? Amy bit her lip and clasped her hands together over her lap. “Still worried by being trapped in this time?”

“No.” Amy replied, without looking at him. “I’m fine, actually. Love a good adventure.” Wouldn’t be a lie, as long as it didn’t involve vehicle rides, or being otherwise trapped., both of which were currently true. She was forced on this adventure, trapped on this time period, and on a carriage, in a vulnerable moment in front of a stranger that might or not be a vampire, but that she didn’t fully trust either way.

“Then why are you so tense?”

“Not exactly looking forward to shopping, I admit. I don’t belong here, and pretending to fit in is not really my style.” Although sometimes necessary, it always bothered her.

“We can always get you something more comfortable to use at home."

It was hard to believe Comte was just that nice, but if he wasn't he could disguise it better than most people. She ended up giving him a weak smile and a nod. She doubted anything could be comfortable enough, but his willingness to understand her and at least try made her a bit emotional in that moment.

She was far anyway from anything she ever knew. Alone. And she had not made such a choice. Amy hated that and needed someone she could trust. She was willing to try trusting him for the time being.

Then came actual shopping. The shop Comte took her to was obviously on the more expensive side, which made her doubly uncomfortable. Comte, on the other hand, was way too excited about it, dismissing her concerns about the unecessary expediture and constantly pointing out things he thought would fit her.

And he kind of had better taste than she expected, finding what would maybe be her style if she had always lived in this century. In the end she managed to find something pretty reasonable to try on.

That led to her first change of clothes in this century - seeing that she had nothing to change into before - allowing for her gaze to fall on the easily spotted mark on her wrist, that now looked as clear as anyone else’s. Also, the counter had turned into the previous day’s date, with a heart at the end, a sign she’d met her soulmate then.

A weird surprised noise escaped her and in a moment Comte was on the other side of the curtain.

“Something wrong, chérie?”

“No.” She hurried to answer. “Everything’s fine. I’ll get out soon.”

But the sight remained in the front of her mind as she hurriedly got dressed. Who was her soulmate, then? There were eleven guys in that mansion. Well, technically ten, as she never actually met Jean d’Arc. How would she figure out who it was?

And was that why the mark had been all weird since it appeared? Because their first meeting wouldn’t be in her time?

Maybe it was for the best she didn’t figure it out though. Soulmate or not, she had to return to her time. She didn’t belong in this one.

So she tried to forget it, and enjoy her limited time in this weird adventure as best as she could. It was enough to know why this didn't work. That her dilema had an explanation.

Not everyone actually ended up with their soulmates. She could find her own happiness in the future knowing why she had to, right?

Tag List: @tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles, @bicayaya, @eventinelysplayground, @queengiuliettafirstlady

If you want to be tagged/untagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

[oc-dumping-ground]

A/N: Woooooooow, my first actual writing post and I’m already breaking continuity!

So, to clarify if you’ve been here for a second, this is centered around an AU of my oc Azrael that’s practically a different person, but still juuuuuust similar enough that I don’t want to change his name/appearance XD

That being said, it’s an AU where he’s a flirtatious and self destructive demon with a gothic aesthetic, how could I NOT put him with Frollo! This is a very self indulgent one shot to get the ball rolling, but still seemed fun enough that people would like it lol

Pairing: Younger! Claude Frollo (about late 20s) x male demon OC

TW: generally toxic “relationship”, mentions and allusions to sex (nothing explicit, but it’s still referenced), degrading behaviors and comments, slight spiritual psychosis, religious trauma, honestly Frollo pining for anyone feels like it should be its own warning

Word count: 2,815k

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This isn’t his fault.

Frollo stands shock still with his hands drawn tightly against his chest, silently glaring ahead at the illuminated arch of his mantle in contemplation. This…isn’t his burden to bear, this is the doing of that hellish fiend and its own drive to corrupt and ruin everything it encounters. It’s not his fault that this beast has relentlessly taunted and pursued him, it’s not his fault that he eventually...it’s not his fault that he tossed it a bone to shut the thing up!

Claude is yanked from his thoughts by a loud crack in the fireplace. The hearth roars onwards vivaciously, snapping up sparks and devouring the firewood its been provided greedily, and all but demanding the Judge’s attention as it crackles through a store of sap caught in the wood.

Frollo draws himself back from the fire, back from its insistent call to be perceived, but he can still feel the heat of it radiating across his skin even at a distance. The hearth still desolates the wood its fed in a voracious display of consumption, still calls his eyes back to it with its incessant flicker, and Frollo is left with an…uncomfortable reminder staring back at him from the pit of the hearth. As the light of the flame licks up along the chimney, and the flame itself swallow up its fuel like some creature starved, Frollo is reminded of actions he…truly should forget. The judge is reminded of clawed hands threatening to tear both cloth and skin, wickedly tempestuous eyes needling at his spirit from the ground, and a painfully skilled tongue set on devouring him a drop at a time-

Frollo snaps his eyes shut at that. The memory halts his breath in his lungs, and fishes up a shiver from deep within his bones, but still he shuts it out.

He’s getting ahead of himself with this, and giving the whole ordeal far more thought than it actually deserves, and that’s probably exactly what this beast wants from him. It wants to drag him into the same depravity and starvation it suffers, so truly all he’s going to accomplish by fixating on the whole ordeal is letting that fiend wiggle itself farther in his mind than it has any right to be. With a forceful draw of breath, more so than it truly should be for the moment, Frollo reaches for his stocker and snuffs out the fireplace for the evening. As the flame exhales its final breaths of smoke Claude releases a relieved sigh, and with the matter settled he finally just picks himself up for bed.

He’s truly just applying more weight to the whole ordeal than it actually requires. With the way Azrael was acting, with how shameless he had become in his pursuit for sustenance, one could even argue that it was charitable of him to let the thing feed itself.

As Frollo pulls himself out of the main hall and towards his bedchamber his steps land just a bit harder than usual. His pace is a step quicker, his shoulders are just barely hunched, and his presence could almost appear weighted if one were brazen enough to peer into his eyes. To any passersby it would go unnoticed, or at least unspoken for the sake of their own safety, but to a focused pair of eyes tucked against the shadows the judge’s hurried pace is simply too delightful to ignore.

Claude truthfully doesn’t notice the demon’s presence when he passes him in the hallway, nor does he notice when a far more amused set of footsteps slowly trail behind his own, until he feels the blasted thing’s breath suddenly flickering across the skin of his neck. Azrael had crept up close enough behind him to draw his lips up along the nape of his neck, and of course he just has to flaunt the position while he speaks.

“A bit late for a stroll in the hall, wouldn’t you say, darling? Normally you’re the first of us to settle in for the night.”

This creature, this horrible…relentless creature, truly knows no mercy.

Frollo hates how his pace halts at the first whisper of Azrael’s voice, that his pulse jumps up into his throat from just a whisper against his neck, but of course that’s exactly what this fiend would impose onto him. Of course this beast wouldn’t be satisfied with just a lick of him when it’s famished like this.

“I had the full intention to rest for the evening, before I was so brazenly interrupted.”

Frollo tries to save himself for the evening, tries to swerve away into a protective position and stare the thing down into submission, but the effort is rendered almost useless against a starved beast cloaked in moonlight and the night itself. The Judge is faced with a display of deep onyx curls hanging shamelessly past the demon’s shoulders, damnably obscene eyes that threaten to pierce right through him if they linger in any one spot, and the satisfied twitch of a just barely exposed tail; there’s simply no way for him to prevail against this beast when it’s already readied itself to devour him. Even as Azrael begins to stalk towards him Frollo is already loosing the attempted threat in his eyes.

“Oh, but it is quite late in the evening now, and I’ve only just come now to greet you. Something must have been holding your attention long before I “interrupted” you for you to still be awake.”

The creature continues to close in on Frollo before he can back up or respond, and what started as a calculated stalk rapidly devolves into an eager stride until the demon is uncomfortably close to the man’s face. He’s close enough that Frollo can see the splits and bruising along the demon’s lips…close enough that he’s can remember how the demon earned them in the first place. The Judge has to avert his eyes from the creature, he truly does not need to dwell on past favors when the damned thing is already vying to get more from him, and thankfully he finds a brief lapse in the demon’s control over him in the process. He truly shouldn’t entertain this thing, he should know better than to offer a pleading dog scraps, but this beast has a talent for demanding attention…and he can only tolerate it’s attempts for so long.

“…you pride yourself on being a ‘perceptive’ creature, and yet you have no clue as to why I would possibly be awake for an evening?”

Azrael lets his lips split back at your response; back into the horribly wicked grin he always takes on when things start go his way…when it’s already too late.

“Oh, I am quite aware of the actual reason you’re still awake, darling; I simply assumed that you would like prefer a chance to excuse yourself.”

“I-“

“I have nothing to excuse, and you have held me hostage in this hall long enough, demon.”

Frollo practically spits the words out as if uttering them alone spreads a bitter venom over his tongue. He doesn’t have the time or energy to weave around this fiend’s trickery and twisted sense of play, and he’s already regretting even entertaining the dastardly thing momentarily.

“As I have already stated I am going to rest for the evening, and I will not have you delaying that further for this latest game of yours. If you have nothing of importance to share then I will be on my way-“

Frollo had finally begun to back away from the demon, finally had a chance of escaping for the night, but is halted by a clawed hand snatching up the back of his collar. Azrael has always been shameless about his own desires, and easily emboldened to pursue whatever it believes it’s owed, but to outright snatch him in the middle of the hall…is new. Frollo can feel the beast’s nails scraping against his flesh, and the faint strain of his collar against his throat, and the whole ordeal is just too much to respond too. For just a split second Frollo stills, feeling eerily similar to mouse caught between some barn-cat’s teeth; when he finally speaks again it is with a tone of reservation and acquiescence.

“…what are you seeking, demon?”

“Just a taste, darling, if you have the time.”

Azrael leans in against Frollo’s neck as he mutters the request against his skin, just close enough for his breath to lick against him while still keeping that mouth at bay. For such a painfully greedy creature he’s frustratingly good at mimicking restraint when he wishes it, and at this point the judge almost feels he would prefer it if this creature was at least consistent in his ruthlessness. Somehow this subdued state, the way this demon can just barely restrain himself when the depths of his ravenousness have been exposed, is just so much worse. It’s a tactic that rips into Frollo like jaws ravaging flesh, and one that exposes him raw for this beast to consume.

Once again the judge finds himself haunted by those fiendish lips, how voracious they became when given a “taste” of him, and the keenly aware eyes staring back at him while those lips gutted him. It’s a horrible thought to bear, and a treacherous thing to have dangled in front of his face, yet it has just the effect this demon has surly been striving for. Suddenly the demon’s breath runs lines of arousal across The judge’s throat, and suddenly he’s exhaling the last of his resolve for the evening.

“If…that is what it will take to finally put you to rest, then so be it..but I will not be bothered with this obscenity again…understood?”

“My darling, I can assure you now that you will never hear me plead for this again after tonight.”

Of course Azrael decides to purr the response out against the judge’s ear, forcing him to stiffen his back less he permit the demon the pleasure of a physical reaction. Even when an agreement is settled, and the beast has beaten him, he is clearly never satisfied with his pursuit. Honestly it is questionable if this fickle fiend can even be humored on his “promise” to suddenly be content after getting his way tonight, but at this point Frollo argues with himself that the action is worthwhile even if it bats the demon away long enough for him to sleep. It’s still just a taste after all, a minute compromise to keep this nightmare at bay. The Judge finally pries himself back from Azrael, now acutely aware of the publicity of this exchange should a restless maid or someone else make their way into the hall, and a weight he interrupts as demonic influence seems to fall off of him in turn as he does so.

“I will not have you misconstruing your own debauchery as mine, nor will I offer you an opportunity to mislead others into believing that I am doing anything but entertaining you. Let it be known that if so much as a whisper crosses ears surrounding this I will personally hunt you down and cast you back to the fires myself.”

“…is that understood, devil?”

For a split moment the pair fall into silence at that, a standstill illuminated by filtered moonlight that feels more like a stalemate than an agreement, as Frollo waits for some kind of confirmation from the beast before him. He is already inconveniencing himself enough trying to pacify this creature, he can’t afford for this to be twisted up into a rumor he knows this beast would be delighted to contaminate the streets with. The Judge continues to hold himself with bolted feet in the hall, his eyes meeting Azrael’s like the edge of a blade, before the action is cut by an amused click of the creature’s tongue. The demon idly leans his head to the side, a few wisps of his hair rolling off his shoulder from the motion, as a faint grin slowly etches across his lips

“my dear, who in this kingdom would possibly believe any rumor I have to offer? I don’t think it would matter if I whispered in someone’s ear or shouted on the street…we both know that there isn’t a soul here who would listen to a word I said.”

Frollo can hear the creature’s voice flow along with his little speech, but anything the beast has to say is effectively muffled the moment that grin is revealed. It’s an unusual expression for Azrael, far more subdued than the taunting face he typically bears, and if the shift had come from anyone else the Judge could have almost mistaken the look for something vaguely sardonic. It’s…not an expression Claude can say he is particularly fond of.

“That is not an answer, beast.”

Frollo can hear another tsk of the demon’s tongue, likely lamenting over the unwanted response, as he is given no choice but to meet the Judge’s demands. The creature’s eyes fall and his head dips into place, and yet that hideous grin never quite slips off of his lips. Such a disturbing expression.

“…Then consider my voice cut on the matter, and your warning throughly received.”

The beast holds himself like that for a moment longer; with his face tilted down and his hair obscuring his expression from view. It’s a pose that could be mistaken as subservience from a foolish person, and If Frollo was a lesser he could even imagine taking a bit of vindication in the sight. To witness a demon even feign any semblance of defeat must be an extraordinary occurrence, and perhaps if the act was a bit more genuine it would have pulled a bit of pleasure from the judge; just to see this beast learn some semblance of place. However, as it stands the position is still just for show. The demon proves himself eager to bring his little performance to close as he picks his head back up rather vigorously, and in an uncharacteristic display even backs away from the Judge.

“Well, if there are no other threats you wish to utter, or insults you would care to spit, I will leave you to your “rest”. Until we next meet, my darling.”

The demon backs up a few steps more from Frollo before he fades from the hall entirely with a faint wisp of smoke. Of course the foul thing won’t even offer a chance for Frollo to conclude the conversation, and he certainly won’t be seen chasing a hellbeast through the hall just to have the last word. The Judge instead just scoffs quietly at the silent air in the demon’s absence.

It should be a relief for Frollo to be without the demon’s presence, to finally be offered a moment of repose after that beast has tormented his mind and body all evening, but of course even that has been robbed from him. Of course he can’t even be allowed peace in his own solitude.

That beast always had a skill for stealing Claude’s exhaustion while in his space, but it quickly returns in waves now that the creature’s nowhere to be seen. Frollo’s shoulder’s sag with what should have been a long expected weight, and before he can even imagine making his way to his chambers he has to just lean against the wall for support. After a few minutes of being propped up like this the Judge attempts to draw in a soothing breath; just to blow the soot and grime of that entire exchange off of him. It’s a pitiful solace to perform, but one that slowly becomes effective. After a few breaths the Judge can comfortably shut his eyes, and after a few more he can begin to center his thoughts.

The demon hasn’t completely left Frollo’s mind, but now it’s at least sitting quietly and refraining from causing issues in his space. He finally has a moment to just think through his situation, and remind himself of why he even agreed to this in the first place.

Again, he’s offering this creature more power than it deserves, and this arrangement more weight than is required. This is nothing but the actions of a starving beast searching for a meal, and all he is doing is offering it a chance to sustain itself. No one could possibly expect him to turn down such a desperate creature, even an inferior one such as Azrael. It’s an act of pity on his part, an act of charity, even.

Who knows, perhaps if this creature keeps attempting to depend on him for sustenance he might even be able to use that to tame the thing.

Subservience was a fitting look for it, after all, and perhaps a demon’s talents could be useful if directed in the correct manner.

[ilariyalavorowrites]

Faded Hope (Part Three)

Imagine: Losing hope that you’ll ever find your way back to your soulmates after being tricked and being trapped in a pit you don’t have the power to escape from. Thinking about your life prior to this and remembering the good and bad times. Time passes by and the magic of the pit/alternative dimension plays tricks on your mind, trying to make you lose your sanity and grip with reality. (Soulmate AU - DC inspired by Arrow verse episode Haunted)

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff, Soulmate AU

Pairings: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader x John Constantine

Reader gender: Female

Part: three of four

Author: Ilariya_Lavoro writes

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Tagged: @agathaharknessfan96

Your eyes widened, horrified by the terrifying demonic version of your lover towering over you. The mere sight of him sends a frightfully icy sensation rushing right to your core. His piercing yet soulless gaze wandered up and then down, taking in every inch of you that was not submerged with a smirk widening and playing upon his lips. It cruelly twisted that handsome face that you had come to love. If this had not been all a wrenched game, you might have dared to believe for a fraction of a second that this was your John come to take your home. 

However your eyes did not deceive you, here he was, your lover’s demonic counterpart. The twisted mirror image standing amid your waking nightmare. In the past, he had haunted your doorway more times than you could count on a single hand.

Forcing his way into your shop one particular wet and windy Friday evening, many hours after your last customer. At first glance, you had mistaken him for your John stumbling through the threshold drunk like a skunk like he had a few times before after a case that would chill the blood of even the warmest of hearts.

However, once your gaze locked with his. The illusion quickly fell apart. It allowed you to truly see the truth of the matter. This entity was no mere man, he was a doppelganger. A true and nearly identical copy of your beloved. Yet there were more than a few small differences. His eyes were the deepest of red, blazing out at you with a heat fierce and overpowering for any mere mortal to take, forcing most to simply look away and flee out of a bone-chilling fear in peril for their life.

A truly evil force of nature born from the depths of hell. One most deadly with its sights squarely set upon you. You had escaped by the very skin of your teeth, only when you turn back, glancing over your shoulder to see if the fiend had given up the ghost did you witness the sight of your home set alight for good measure. It had been an altogether strange and terrifying encounter, there had been a possessive-driven tenderness mixed in oh-so-casual brutality as you made your escape.

You had expected him to return in the days that followed but he hadn’t. It was as if he simply vanished. He had been there one moment and then like a ghost in the night gone when blinked. That first encounter left an impression that could not be forgotten. No matter how hard you wished it so. 

John had opened up after that night about the very nature and creation of the being in question. How he was composed of the least desirable aspects of his personality infused with demon ichor and the soul of well-known occultist. He never did relish the more wicked and intricate details but then again, you hadn’t pushed him any further. It was not the most ideal topic of conversation when all you wanted to do was fall into his arms. 

It was an experience that you wholeheartedly wished never to revisit for a third or fourth time. Yet here you were yet again unwillingly in his presence. Or was this simply just another trick, an illusion brought on by this hellish dimension that you're presently imprisoned in?

At this point, you had no true grasp on whether up was down. So you had to face whatever might occur next. Gritting your teeth as you attempted to power through each trial thrown your way. With increasing difficulty, you keep afloat refusing to be dragged down into the depths. “Time is a construction in a place just like this. We have nothing, we are nothing” You shot back, swallowing all the spiteful words that had lingered on the very tip of your tongue. You would give this bastardised version no words to twist and weaponise for its mocked-up version of what it perceived as fun. For amusement and self-indulgent pleasure.

“Darling, be a good girl for Johnny. No holding back, I like to hear you scream” Its words were dripping in a vile sort of glee as it inched closer and closer. Taking in all the nuances of each of the varied facial expressions. No matter how subtle or how hard you tried to mask that most wondrous of scents he could taste it. It was mouth-watering, all that fear mixed in with a dash of hopelessness and longing. The spark remained it seemed. How curious humans truly were when they were facing down their maker, clinging to the very notion of salvation.

You were not the reward, just the bait for the target of all his wrath. This was just a pleasant accident. He was the man behind the curtain, orchestrating and pulling the many different strings to rip your soul from its comfortable housing. Oh no, this was too complicated for his tastes but Constantine would come running after you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I am not as heartless as you believe Constantine” The Devil spoke, his tone even lacking that normal light joking nature of his. A seriousness had crept in, taking hold of him as he stared down the mortal man from his position in the doorway. He held his posture as stiff as board but there was unmistakable sorrow that lingered upon his face.

True grief that would mirror his own, if his mask were to crack any further. However, there was no time for that, for they were working against a clock that had been slowly counting down. Hours had already been lost that simply could not be clawed back. Shame and guilt encroached in, knowing full well that he had come sooner but Lucifer would not let those negative emotions find their foothold in his psyche.

There would be time for that later, after all this was over and put to bed. With you, out of the furnace and back in their collective arms. He watched as the working-class warlock set to work. Moving through the defiled room with a fine toothcomb, nothing was overlooked or ignored as the tiniest detail might hold the key to unlocking this mystery.

This room once tantalised his supernaturally sensitive senses. Warmly inviting him to cross its threshold and enjoy what might lie within. The change was so sudden but evoked an entirely different reaction. It rattled him deeply, as an acidic taste hung in the air poisoning all the once good, intoxicating flavour that tingled as it would flood his senses from the moment that he entered the apartment.

It burnt, scorning through the lining of his nostril and dancing viciously across the tastebuds on the surface of his tongue. It was wrong, setting off the wrong kind of impulses within. There was bitterness clinging on, displayed clearly upon his face as he puckered up his lips, wrinkled his nose and closed his eyes. Uncomfortable to simply be standing there surrounded by these vile vapers, these energies dripping in venom.

For a moment, it was as if he was right back in the chasms of hell. Sweatbeads began to gather as the seconds ticked by.

“Oi, Are you just going to stand there and get out of actually doing anything!” The rage fuelled tone of Constantine was enough to shake him from his mental anguish, dragging the Devil straight back to reality. 

“This is old and archaic magic, I can taste the aftertaste in the very air. It’s clinging on, like a dense and bitter smog that refuses to dissipate” His tone was flatter than before, and there was methodical nature to his delivery as if he was piecing together a long-forgotten memory. One that had been haphazardly discarded in one of his many pursuits throughout his long stretching lifetime.

 Preferring to focus solely on selfish pleasures and inwardly seeing his goals using that to drive him forward. The knowledge of this nature is hidden away in a dusty old archive of the depths of his mind. Lucifer had never considered truly forgetting, it has been a part of who he was in a different lifetime. No matter, how painfully and quickly that had ended, when he fell from the heavens above.

His past was forcing its way back into his life one way or another.  However, this did not feel like the glory of heaven raining down almighty vengeance. There were no horns blown or a ringing in his ears as the cherubs sang accompanying the archangels as they descended to earth on their holiest of missions.

So if it was above then it was below. The realms that made up Hell were involved in one way or another. An awkward silence fell over the pair, as Constantine processed the information that had been freely given. 

“You and I both have a laundry list of enemies, scorned lovers and embittered friends and acquaintances spread across the globes. She knew the risks but jumped headfirst into our lives” Lucifer carefully explained to the man standing mere feet away from his position. 

“Hell is seeking retribution from us both, she is paying the heavy price. This ritual has been bastardized and twisted to fit its caster’s wishes. She became a means to an end.” He hated talking this bluntly about the one he loved. 

“Her soul has been stolen, separated from her physical body. Cast in the pit but which one is a difficult question to answer” He continued as his keen eyes skip from one rune to the next that had been oh so crudely painted upon the walls with a foul-smelling concoction. A thick and gloopy substance that is still malleable enough to paint with. It had long since streaked down the walls, damaging the light-coloured coats of paint that lay beneath. 

This was a hard pill to swallow for either the fallen angel or the damaged occultist but they would each bite the bullet. The more he listened, the more the cogs began to turn and churn, taking his mind back to a similar set of circumstances that had fallen at his feet.

Star City, Oliver Queen and the Case of Sara Lance after she had turned feral following her resurrection via the Lazarus Pit. A list of ingredients soon followed like ink from a quill, most if not all could be sourced from the shop downstairs.

“A Restoration Ritual” John spoke with conviction, his smile soon returned to his lips as confidence rose from within. He could do this, they could do it. Sure, the ritual itself would likely be tweaked to fit the situation that they found themselves in. It would not be perfect but it would work. They had to.

[belit0]

Can please do Warrior by beth Crowley, I feel like this song would fit Indra and hsi wife, where the wife has powerful ablities and she wants him to help her.

I don't know if you've heard of the song before so but the lyrics match Indra and his wife so much, well mostly his wife

"You fascinated me

Cloaked in shadows and secrecy

The beauty of a broken angel

I ventured carefully

Afraid of what you thought I'd be

But pretty soon I was entangled

You take me by the hand

I question who I am

Teach me how to fight

I'll show you how to win

You're my mortal flaw

And I'm your fatal sin

Let me feel the sting

The pain

The burn

Under my skin

Put me to the test

I'll prove that I'm strong

Won't let myself believe

That what we feel is wrong

I finally see what

You knew was inside me

All along

That behind this soft exterior

Lies a warrior

My memory refused

To separate the lies from truth

And search the past

My mind created

I kept on pushing through

Standing resolute which you

In equal measure

Loved and hated

Teach me how to fight

I'll show you how to win

You're my mortal flaw

And I'm your fatal sin

Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com

Let me feel the sting

The pain

The burn

Under my skin

Put me to the test

I'll prove that I'm strong

Won't let myself believe

That what we feel is wrong

I finally see what

You knew was inside me

All along

That behind this soft exterior

Lies a warrior

Lies a warrior

Take me by the hand

I'm sure of who I am

Teach me how to fight

Ohhhh

The pictures come to life

Wake in the dead of night

Open my eyes

I must be dreaming

Clutch my pillow tight

Brace myself for the fight

I've heard that seeing

Is believing."

In fact, I took the lyrics quite literally, and made Indra into one of my favorite aus: fallen angel + witch reader.

"You fascinated me, cloaked in shadows and secrecy, the beauty of a broken angel." (Y/N) remembers, reliving the fateful night when she saw him fall from the sky. A ball of fire and burnt wings shot from the clouds with overwhelming speed, in the middle of the darkness, lighting up the sky with a hellish red color.

At the time, she did not understand what was happening, approaching the place where she saw that object impact after its monumental descent from heaven, encountering an image both enchanting and terrifying.

An angel, with charred wings and only a few black feathers remaining on his back, laid unconscious inside the crater he created when falling from that height. His skin smoldering with burns and the destruction of his wings felt like a terrible premonition.

Why would an angel be cast out of paradise?

"I ventured carefully, afraid of what you thought I'd be, but pretty soon I was entangled" Memories of how she helped him, how she saved him from a frightening fate of torturous death, keep coming to her mind, as Indra watches her with curious red eyes and broken wings still shining on his back, black feathers strewn all over the ground.

He had accepted the woman's help, had accepted to be healed by her magic, had accepted what he felt in his chest every time those delicate hands ran over his skin. (Y/N) saved him, body and soul, and promised to help him with his evil purposes.

He would retrieve his power with her help, go back to heaven, and take revenge.

"Every time you take me by the hand I question who I am..." The angel whispers, unsure of what the woman causes in his heart, overwhelmed by the mess she leaves in his mind. Never having felt anything for anyone, Indra has no idea what sentiments are, how one deal with them, or how humans cope. He had come into her arms a few months ago, and from the beginning, allowed her to breach him, to tear through his being with her mortal qualities.

"Teach me how to fight, I'll show you how to win my love." (Y/N) pleaded, time after time, trying to absorb even a little of her beloved's power, to gain some of his wisdom, of his teachings, of the sorcery he has to offer. The angel had become her love, her mate, a celestial being and a human united by unexplainable bonds, ties that should not exist, and the woman set out to devote all her heart and soul to her man's cause, to help him with his plan.

"You're my mortal flaw, and I'm your fatal sin... Let me feel the sting, the pain, the burn under my skin. Put me to the test, I'll prove that I'm strong, won't let myself believe that what we feel is wrong. I finally see what you knew was inside me all along." She implores, between whispers and demands. Knowing that once her beloved regains his wings, once his feathers heal and his power is restored, he'll be headed for a fight to the death with whoever kicked him out of heaven.

She needs to stand by his side and support him when it happens.

"Behind this soft exterior, lies a warrior." Between caresses and soft touches he had mentioned, hiding their naked bodies under charred black wings, appreciating the wondrous magic within (Y/N), giving an accurate telling and narration about the potential he himself recognized in her.

"My memory refused, to separate the lies from truth, search the past my mind created. I can't imagine without you, Indra, let me join your cause, let me be by your side through it. I'll keep on pushing through, standing resolute, which you in equal measure love and hate, I know. Every time you take me by the hand, I'm seeing who I am." Her words are a silent plea, an attempt to get to the bottom of her beloved, to make him understand how much she needs to support him in this, to accompany him, to make sure his battle is successful and he finishes his personal mission alive.

Months ago she found the love of her life lying under a disaster of his own creation, submerged in a crater of earth and on the verge of death. She can't lose him now, not so soon.

"The pictures come to life when I hear you speak like that, wake in the dead of night I open my eyes and... Yes, I must be dreaming. I'll clutch my pillow tight, brace myself for the fight, I've heard that seeing is believing. You're the most beautiful dream I never had (Y/N)." The angel whispers, and the woman thinks she sees tears in his eyes before he turns his face away, avoiding eye contact.

Indra seems determined to wage his battle alone, to face combat unaided, but she will not allow it. She will fight tooth and nail to make her beloved understand she cannot exist without him, that she does not wish to live in a reality where her angel no longer is, and she will not allow him to end up in the hands of those who mercilessly threw him to earth.

(Y/N) will fight for him, whether he wants it or not.

[aenigmaticdays]

At every turn

An AU (possibly) of what I have forming in my mind....that snippet down below.

The familiar weight of the sword materialises in her blood-stained hands and falls to the ground is that fleeting moment when time flows in reverse.

The other split-second decision that Kang Yeong Hwa had once made to cease both their pain and suffering by shedding his blood is as now as easy to make as the casual flip of the coin.

It’s a fitting, more worthy action—for the both of them and the path they’d chosen—that binds itself to the love she proclaims for him than a cruel, life-ending slash in the neck.

Tears distort her vision, shaping him into a smudged purple shape amidst the disorienting glow of the torches around them.

How ironic that she had needed 1,500 years of clarity and insight to come to this painful and all-too-late realisation, and it’s all because of him.

Him of all people in the notoriously ambitious Kingdom of Silla—the infamously cold and ruthlessly capable Silla General who’d won every battle he walked into, who’d taken the lives of her family and scattered a portion of the Gaya diaspora to the Northern shores.

And yet it was him who’d also inadvertently taught her about the resilience and the all-encompassing protectiveness of love even as the ground ran red with his blood.

It’s only here and now, in this ancient, hellish Silla dreamscape that she walks in as both Han Ri Ta and Kang Yeong Hwa, that she finds the courage to take an entirely different path in choosing to be with him over her inability to see past her pain and their miserable union.

But correcting the mistake of the past if only in her dream is as much an acknowledgement of how woefully she’d underestimated the tightness of the bond she’d formed with him, as it is as much a sure surrender to their inevitable fates.

“I love you, Sir.”

The words—words that she hadn’t manage to say at all in their previous encounters—tumble out with relief and regret.

As far as she’s concerned, they are words that she should have said earlier—much earlier—instead of the numerous elusive mentions of needing him by her side.

He turns around slowly, but doesn’t move towards her or away from her.

There’s no discernible shift in his expression although the drawn sword with its naked blade lying on the ground might have given him an idea of her initial intentions.

But desperation drives her persistence, pushes her feet towards him and into a tentative hug that he doesn’t return.

Instead, he steps back and looks intently at her. “Even if you do not let me go, the reality does not change.”

Is that the flicker of unease in the quiet whisper of those words? Like it’s a gentle rebuke rather than a stoic acceptance of another cycle of life and death passing them by?

Or is this all on her part—a subconscious knowing somehow, that this version of reality is merely a manifestation of her present-day longing and yearning that can only be held at bay for so long?

Yet he’d held on, against this drowning for 1,500 years, while she’d locked their cage and thoughtlessly flung the key to their redemption over the very cliff she’d been pushed over.

“I want to change my decision in the past in this way.” The admission now flows easily like the tide of the sea as smile creases her cheek. “So we can be together, at least in my dreams.”

He closes the distance then, understanding flooding his eyes.

This close to him, she hears his ragged, indrawn breath, feels the gentle curve of his cheek as he turns his head slightly towards the vague shouts and the footsteps that draw nearer.

“I promised that I would find a way to end our curse,” he says quietly. Always reassuring, but with that same, strange inflection threaded through his words. “I thought I did. But I cannot see beyond this lapse.”

This lapse?

The ground flips over, then rights itself.

The thin filament on which Han Ri Ta and Kang Yeong Hwa co-exists starts to fray as a distant thought snakes into her consciousness, far above the scene that’s playing out. In that brief second, she sees the blue-pink-purple threads that surround them, a source of glowing light of their own that disappears as soon as she reaches out to touch them.

She barely manages to breathe, barely manages to formulate a thought.

This odd turn, the same but different. Is this deviation yet another product of longing unfulfilled?

This just isn’t how it’s supposed to happen, especially after how carefully Han Ri Ta had finally laid down the pieces and cast her lot in with Doha fully.

This inglorious end where they die together is a road she’s trodden with him multiple times now, even if it’s a powerless way to walk out and resolve her own personal regrets.

It feels…it feels like she’s suddenly lifting something too heavy for her, before the ground beneath her feet crumbles and swallows the both of them whole.

How—?

She savours the brief, ghostly touch of his cold fingers against her cheek, then follows his gaze that to settles on that pink-blue-purple threads that swirl around them.

“You have to let me go.”

There’s a grim cast to his features, even if there’s that soft light in his eyes she can’t forget.

What--? No…!

She throws her arms tightly around him, even as he spins around and shields her with his back.

Then she feels, rather than hears, the whistle of the arrows starting to find their mark.

[acollapsar]

AU: 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐓

STORY: INTRODUCTION. Sebastian Michaels is a unique individual, the result of a rare encounter between a human and a demon from a distant realm in ancient times. Born and raised in Fontaine, the nation governed by the Hydro Archon, the God of Justice, Sebastian's life took an extraordinary path as he became a skilled butler to the prestigious Phantomhive family.

With a long life spanning 500 years, Sebastian's experiences have honed his skills to absolute perfection, making him a master of his profession. His exceptional reputation in Fontaine is a testament to his unwavering dedication and loyalty, as he continues to serve the Phantomhive family across numerous generations.

CHARACTER STORY: I. As Sebastian Michaels excels in his profession, rumors and questions abound among the citizens of Fontaine. They marvel at his youthful appearance, his unparalleled abilities, and his enigmatic nature. However, Sebastian has successfully concealed the truth of his half-demon heritage and the source of his longevity, ensuring that only the family he serves is privy to the secret that allows him to live for centuries.

The rumors whispered throughout the city often miss the mark, weaving tales that are far from reality but hinting at something more than mere humanity. Over time, many have come to believe that Sebastian is not truly human, an assumption that holds more truth than they realize. After all, when one remains in the presence of regular humans for centuries, serving the same family generation after generation, it is inevitable to garner a reputation that transcends one's chosen profession. People notice, people question.

If you dare to ask Sebastian about his origins or the extraordinary feats he accomplishes, he will meet your inquiry with a knowing look and an amused grin. It is not the first time he has been asked such questions, and he responds with his characteristic wit, simply stating that he is nothing less than "One hell of a butler."

CHARACTER STORY: II. Sebastian Michaels was born and raised in the middle-class district of Fontaine's capital, 500 years ago, during the height of the cataclysm. In those challenging times, the weight of tragic events seemed to burden his mother more than anyone else he knew. Despite their relatively good terms during his childhood, Sebastian could not recall a single moment of seeing his mother in a cheerful mood. Her smiles were scarce, and when they did appear, they were seldom directed at him. It was as if she fulfilled her role as a mother out of necessity, with an air of reluctance and a sense of having no other choice.

Yet, despite her distant demeanor, Sebastian could never bring himself to resent her. Nor could he find it in himself to love her deeply. He recognized that she provided for him, ensuring he had a roof over his head, an education, and enough food to eat. In his mind, these were the basic necessities one needed to survive. He questioned whether he was expected to ask for more, or if what he received was all that a mother could provide.

CHARACTER STORY: III. Long ago, when Teyvat was a realm roamed by gods and monstrous creatures, a significant upheaval occurred with the opening of seven seats at Celestia. These seven seats granted permission for gods to ascend and become Archons, ushering in an era of war that lasted for at least a millennium. In their bid to protect their territories and expand their dominion, gods clashed, and many met their demise in the process. Some were reborn, while others' anger lingered, manifesting as hellish creatures known as demons.

As the war raged on, the victorious seven gods claimed their seats as Archons, while those who failed met various fates - some were killed, others sealed away, and some fled to lands beyond Teyvat's borders. The consequences of killing a god were not without repercussions, and the remnants of their anger continued to haunt the world in the form of demons.

While Teyvat had its share of these malevolent beings, it was not the only realm that harbored them. The existence of other worlds and realms outside Teyvat's boundaries, though not common knowledge, was undeniable. Whether the events of the cataclysm were connected to the emergence of a particular demon in the world of Teyvat remains uncertain. Nevertheless, this demon managed to form a contract with a young woman from Fontaine. The contents and nature of this enigmatic contract have remained shrouded in mystery to this day.

CHARACTER STORY: IV. From a tender age, Sebastian felt a sense of detachment, as if he didn't quite belong. Odd occurrences plagued his childhood, baffling him and those around him. Sleep rarely brought true rest, and despite his seeming lack of fatigue, he was often left with a lingering emptiness, an insatiable hunger that no amount of food could satisfy. It was as though something essential was missing, and this feeling persisted throughout his life.

Even his mother appeared to recognize the peculiar nature of her son's existence. When intense fits of anger and inexplicable tantrums overtook Sebastian, his mother would instinctively lead him to the kitchen. In those moments of turmoil, plates, glasses, family heirlooms, and even living beings became the targets of his unfathomable outbursts. With ease, he could upend the dining table and hurl it out of the window.

The lack of understanding as to why he acted out only exacerbated Sebastian's anger and frustrations. However, a curious remedy emerged - whenever his mother offered him a freshly cooked Mince Meat Pie, something within him seemed to calm. The act of eating the pie brought a semblance of peace, dulling the hunger and anger, yet leaving him not fully satisfied. This enigmatic pattern left Sebastian pondering: What was he truly missing?

CHARACTER STORY: V. In the present day, Sebastian Michaels' role as the butler for the Phantomhive family he serves extends far beyond mere household tasks. He assumes the mantle of the family's loyal guard dog and devoted servant, a role hidden from the prying eyes of the world. This clandestine duty involves safeguarding the family's reputation and eliminating any threats that could harm them in any way. Only the family and their closest allies are privy to this side of Sebastian's responsibilities, as he must maintain the appearance of a refined and impeccable butler in the public eye.

Operating in the shadows, Sebastian's mastery in agility, stealth, and manipulation allows him to eliminate adversaries without leaving a trace of evidence. In the land of the God of Justice, where reputation holds great significance, this ability is vital. His hands, metaphorically speaking, appear as clean and spotless as the pristine fabric of his gloves. These secret missions become a source of satisfaction for Sebastian, offering a release for the anger and frustration stemming from his unquenchable hunger, which normal human food fails to satisfy.

Indeed, the prospect of orchestrating a bloodbath without getting caught, and leaving no evidence behind, amplifies Sebastian's ego. It becomes a preferred outlet for dealing with the seemingly endless hunger that plagues him. The question arises: Why would someone like him go to such great lengths to protect the well-being and reputation of a family without seemingly gaining anything tangible in return?

STORY: EMILY THE XXXIII. Sebastian's most cherished possession is Emily XXXIII, a pitch-black cat with bright yellow eyes. She is the 33rd cat in a lineage of well-groomed and cared-for felines that can be traced back for approximately 480 years. Felines hold an exceptionally special place in Sebastian's heart, being his absolute favorite type of pet. He finds their very existence to be among the few pure and good things in the world, leading him to welcome them into his life 33 times over during his long existence.

To the untrained eye, Emily might appear similar to any other black cat, but Sebastian's keen observations reveal her unique qualities. Having memorized the appearance and behavior of every feline he has owned, he can distinguish the subtleties that set each one apart.

Emily is a devoted companion, following Sebastian wherever he goes and keeping him company on his off-duty hours. It is a rare sight to see the butler without his feline friend by his side. In return for her loyalty and affection, Sebastian showers Emily with boundless love and care, making her one of the most pampered pets in all of Teyvat. Treats of the finest fish dishes are her reward, and she thrives under the affectionate attention bestowed upon her by the doting butler.

STORY: VISION. On his 18th birthday, Sebastian's world is turned upside down as his mother goes missing. Concerned for her well-being, he embarks on a search to find her, delving into the mysterious circumstances surrounding her disappearance. Eventually, he stumbles upon her, engaged in a deep conversation with an entity that is clearly not human. To his shock, he learns that this otherworldly being is his father, a demon from a realm beyond Teyvat. It becomes apparent that his mother had made a contract with this demon, which led to Sebastian's existence as a half-demon.

In the course of their conversation, the truth unfolds, revealing the reason behind his mother's distant demeanor and lack of affection. She had no choice but to take him under her wing as part of the contract with the demon. The revelation leaves Sebastian torn between anger at his mother's seemingly reluctant love and excitement at finally understanding the true nature of his existence.

As the conversation reaches a crucial point, and just before the demon reveals his true intentions for the contract, impatience gets the better of him. The demon attempts to claim what is rightfully his - her soul. In desperation, Sebastian's mother turns to him for help, appealing to the remnants of their once-close relationship. However, the mixture of anger towards her and the overwhelming excitement of discovering his true identity lead him to withhold his assistance. He decides to watch and observe, curious to see what the demon will do.

In a heartbreaking moment, Sebastian witnesses the demon devour his mother's soul, unleashing a flood of emotions within him. Anguish, anger, and a newfound sense of determination surge through his being. Yet, amidst the turmoil, he experiences a profound sense of belonging and purpose he had never felt before. The realization that he is a half-demon brings clarity and a newfound sense of identity. He embraces his heritage, determined to find his place in the world and forge a path that is uniquely his.

In the aftermath of this life-changing encounter, Sebastian finds himself clutching a shiny red gem - an awakened Pyro Vision. The Vision represents not only his fiery elemental power but also the culmination of his self-discovery and acceptance. From that moment on, he sets forth as a half-demon, half-human, navigating the world of Teyvat with a newfound sense of purpose.

[aimless-aimz]

um. so. akbrtgjnh one of my mutuals ALREADY has a doors askblog but it isnt exactly inspired by them? i've been wanting to do this for a while!! but please check them out they are so cool

So my doors au is my own interpretation of the universe- so i'll just get straight into the explanation lmao

The Hotel (no one seems to remember the name anymore..) was cursed by an evil force after it was built. For a few months, everything seemed to be normal. But; if you are to stay in the hotel for a week without leaving, you'll turn into a monster- the entities you find around.

So one day, the employees and the owner are locked in on an empty night. No one thought much of it, as they had company, plenty of food and running water.

But when they couldn't even break out of the walls after trying every door for the day to get out, something was wrong. They were trapped, and they couldn't leave.

Panic enveloped the group; they had no way to leave, and there clearly was something very odd with the hotel.

Soon enough, maybe in 5 days time, due to the overwhelming panic speeding up the process, each employee soon became the entities you will encounter in the hotel.

The catch is; they didn't just go on a killing spree. They kept their consciousness. The only thing different is that they remembered little to nothing of who they were, how they became... this.

Soon enough, people started to go to the hotel again. When they walked in, though, there was no one there. But when they walked in, they couldn't escape either- very similar as to the old employees.

The reason why the entities would kill the unlucky who wanders into the hotel, is that they believe they are sparing them. Becoming an immortal entity and to be forever trapped in the hotel seems to be a fate worse than death.

Yet, that didn't stop the resourceful and brave few to traverse through the hotel, and live.

This is where Guiding light comes in.

Guiding light is essentially an angelic spirit that guards over the hotel; attempting to help the wanders. Guiding light believes that there is a way to escape. And they will help the travelers somehow.

Despite disagreeing with Guide strongly, the other entities are on very good terms with the spirit. Guide made the in-between of their transformations into hellish creatures the most painless they could. Guide serves as a comfort to them still, even as Guide has to warn those they help about the very same group.

The Rooms is a separate dimension to Doors. The Rooms makes a complete pause onto the malicious effects that The Hotel has that sentences the passerby to purgatory.

Not much is known about the Rooms, other than the fact that there are a few entities that sprawl the endless halls.

Some of the people who manage to survive The Hotel make the fatal mistake of deciding to stay; that maybe they don't have to leave that one bright room with a bed.

This is how other entities, like Dupe, Snare, and Jeff came about.

All of the entities in the original version of the game were employees. The entities in the update were wanderers that stayed longer than they should've.

anyways. lore dump over. if you read all this. what is wrong with you/j /nsrs (thank you so much!!)

[catachan-jungle-fighter]

One Shot AU: John Wanders

John didn't know how long he had been trapped in this one building, whenever he grew exhausted and collapsed to the floor, he'd wake a few hours or maybe days later with his canteen refilled and carrying more rations made in the way of his Wolves, and with his blades freshly oiled and sharpened.

He knew it wasn't a loop, he had cut himself sometime ago and he checked the wound every time he woke up, but he didn't know what was happening to him and why it seemed to be only him stuck in this hellish place.

He paused as he heard heavy footsteps coming from ahead of him, the man freezing as he spots... Himself.

Both John's pause and stare at each other, both men looking at the other with a narrowed eye, the real? John says to the fake? John "Our Daughter's Name?" The fake? Replying to the real? John "Nox and Firebug, our sons name?" The real? John grimacing as he speaks "Quiet, Toxic, Farsight, and technically Pup but he dosen't want to be adopted."

"So... we both have the same memories as the other one." They both state at the same time as they sigh and remove the canteens from their belt, drinking deeply from it before sliding it back into place, both of the men looking at each other before speaking "I was on a assignment with my Wolves, I haven't seen hide nor hair of them since we entered this place, and have been wandering these endless halls alone."

"So something fucky is going on... can't be the Dark Spirits." real? John states as he looks around at the non-descript halls that surround them, the other John walking up to one of the doors and kicking at it only to curse as the door swings open upon the first kick.

When they both enter the room, the real? John at a more controlled pace then the other who had stumbled forward, they notice the smell of old decay coming from a body huddled next to a long dead fire. The other John moves to examine the Corpse, while the real? John crouched down to investigate the remains of the flame, a hesitant voice rising up from the other John as he says "Oi... come over here and tell me your seeing what I'm seeing."

John didn't like the fact he could hear the shock in his own voice, if something could shock the other him, then somethin... oh.

John looks down at the rotting corpse, the rot touched grip of Memorial peeking over the long dead form's shoulder, his own hand subconsciously going up to the blade where it was positioned on his back in the same manner.

"What the fuck... what in the Emperor's holy fuckin' balls is this... that's us... or someone who took our fucking blades and..." the other John pauses as the real? John crouched down and dug his hand into the rotting chest cavity, the real? John letting out a curse as he feels the dense bone of the ribcage and speaking in a growl "It's us... this is another fucking John... something is fucking with us. First we encounter one another, then we find a fucking corpse that is us from what seems like decades in the fucking past, what is fucking next... fighting ourselves?"