#But it did work so like. Thanks unknown dream deity

[bitevibe]

Had a weird but sort of cute dream today. Now i'll be thinking about it for eternity (Talking about it in the tags for talks of animal death and religion)

[skaikruswan]

Hi! I found pouty Morpheus super cute! Could you please write a Morpheus x goddess!reader who always shows affection for Morpheus. But one day she accidentally ignores him because she has too much work. Eventually our emo boy gets upset about it. Thanks❤️❤️❤️

Divine intervention

WC: 1,4 k Ao3

Relationship: Morpheus x f!reader

Notes: fluff, first meeting, missed date, pouty Morpheus

Dear anon, thanks for the prompt! I am sorry it took a while. I hope you enjoy!

If you liked this story, i have written others.

You know a secret, an important one, one that saved you from the oblivion that has claimed so many deities. Humans hold power over gods. So many gods and goddesses believe, no, consider themselves to be worthy of their dedication and worship, without even caring enough about humanity. It’s selfish and arrogant, and sooner or later, this attitude will be their doom. 

You have had many names over the ages and various aspects in several cultures. In the end, it didn’t particularly matter to you what humanity called you, as long as they called you at all. 

You walk among humans, listening to their struggles and pleas, offering a kind word or a much-needed pat on the back, helping them in any way you can. You give them hope and sympathy, the light at the end of a tunnel, the warm blanket in a cold night. Some people notice that you’re not human: you see it in their widened eyes, their reverent gaze, or their sharp inhale. But most of them are simply glad that you’re here. 

You don’t need temples or sacrifices; all you need is the warm feeling in your chest as you see them get better, to know that you helped them. 

Each time a person you helped has dreams about you, you feel equally content and queasy. You feel honored and glad that you made such an impact on them, but you worry as you just entered the realm of a being much more powerful than you are. But all your worries were simply worries. Morpheus, Dream of the Endless and ruler of the Dreaming, doesn’t consider you a threat. You still remember your first meeting.

Lexie, a lovely young woman just survived a dangerous operation and got a new pair of lungs, after endless weeks of hoping and praying. In her dream, she was standing on top of a mountain, screaming from the top of her healthy, functioning lungs, and how could you not smile, when her joy was this wonderful and infectious? 

“You are the reason she has such a positive dream,” an unknown, deep voice declared, you turned around to see Morpheus. Dressed in black, his dark hair a mess, his blue eternal eyes peering at you, you felt the endless power radiating from him. 

“I am sorry sir, I shall leave your realm at once,” you apologized, every atom in your immortal body vibrating as you inclined your head in a respectful manner. 

“You are helping the dreamers. I sense no evil intentions. You can stay.” 

             __________________________

One shared dream has become several, and over time you stopped walking on eggshells around him. To be honest, it is really nice to have someone to talk to. Immortality gets rather lonely and despite the comforting presence of humans, you still don’t have anyone to really connect with. Your last friend, a minor deity of peace, did not make it through the 20th century. Watching them wither and fade in front of your eyes forever tore a piece of your heart from you. 

Morpheus shares your vision on humans, that immortals serve them instead of the opposite. He has told you that he had only recently realized this. It had been in a dream, the lake over which they were rowing reflecting the dark, starless sky, when Morpheus had confessed the atrocity he had suffered through during the last century. 

You impulsively had reached out to hold his hand, your thumb stroking over the back of his hand. Your mind had called you a fool while your heart was soaring, and for a moment, you had held your breath.  

“Thank you for your time, and for listening to me.” He had smiled at you for the first time, and you felt your heart skip for a beat. His other hand had covered yours and you hoped that the darkness hid your big blush. 

“I’m glad I’m here.” 

                ___________________________

You almost saunter as you walk through a crowd, smiling at a heartbroken teenager, dropping some change into the cup of a homeless, and stopping an elderly man from walking in front of a car. Morpheus and you will have a date tonight, and the prospect makes butterflies swarm your stomach. You wish you could say that you have experience, but when it comes to matters of the heart, immortals are just as lost and confused as mortals. 

You had been cautious and gentle at the beginning of your relationship. In the privacy of a dream, you had held his hand, brushed your fingers through the silky strands of his hair, or pressed a featherlight kiss on his cheek. But you didn’t want to showcase your relationship, fearful that the residents of the Dreaming would gossip. 

“My love, you have nothing to hide or fear. Let everyone in this realm know that I enjoy your presence and affection,” he had declared, softly pressing his lips against yours, and you had felt sunlight light up inside your veins. From this day on, you hadn’t held back, showering him with affection, showing the world how much he means to you. 

Matthew once called lovey-dovey, his caw sounding like laughter as he soared over you, interrupting your picnic date in Fiddler’s Green. Merv told you in secret that there were nightmares and dreams betting on how often you would make the boss smile during one day. Lucienne kept giving you an almost amused look every time you waltzed into the library, knowing that she would have to answer a question about Morpheus, so you could surprise him better. 

__________________________

You’re glad that tragedies still affect you, that you still feel the pain and sorrow that seems to sniff out any positive emotion as a storm would sniff out a candle; it means that your heart hasn’t turned to stone. You’ve seen deities grow cold and unbothered. You’ve sworn that it would never happen to you. 

You feel their need for you, you hear their despairing thoughts and broken-hearted prayers, and steel yourself for a long day.

A minute turns into an hour, an hour turns into several. You can’t deny them in their hour of need, so you offer everything you can. 

While you’re immortal, you still experience exhaustion, and you drag yourself to your home, immediately falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

       _______________________________

Morpheus has shown you how to enter the Dreaming, and you find yourself right where you want to be: the palace. It is surprisingly empty, except for a group of naiads who disappear into some people’s dreams in a burst of spring water. The throne is empty, so Morpheus must be somewhere else. Council seems to be finished. 

You wander into the library, expecting Morpheus to maybe discuss something with Lucienne. The librarian is seemingly looking for something, pulling out books and tomes with a small frown on her face. You announce yourself by clearing your throat and wait until Lucienne has finished her task. 

“It’s good to see you, my lady. Do you have any more questions?” she asks as she adjusts her glasses. 

“Just one actually: where’s Morpheus?”

“I don’t know, I’m afraid. After the council was finished, he left.” Lucienne glances around before leaning forward. “He seemed a little displeased.” Regret and embarrassment twist knots into your stomach as you realize why that might be the case. You missed the date! 

“I’ll look for him, thanks Lucienne.” 

       __________________________________

You find him in Fiddler’s Green, at the exact spot you’ve had you picnic date. It’s dark, so he perfectly blends in with the shadows. With his back turned towards you, he can’t see the way you bite your lip, but he can hear your hesitant steps. Nobody likes being stood up. 

“I am sorry for missing our date.” You don’t regret helping those in need, but you regret that Morpheus waited here for you, and you didn’t show. You feel a stone drop inside your stomach. While you were never into gossip, even you have picked up that Morpheus doesn’t take rejection kindly. 

“I waited.” Morpheus turns around and you bite the inside of your jaw to freeze your facial expressions. Dream of the Endless is pouting, and you will remember this image forever. Lucienne was right. 

“I will make this worth your wait,” you promise, giving him a coy smile as you slowly approach him, fluttering your eyelashes for good measure. 

“Surprise me, goddess,” he challenges, giving you a small smirk, one you wipe off his face as you crush your lips against his, burying your hands into his hands and angling his head as you put all your love into this kiss. 

[saphirered]

Hey! I hope you’re doing well. You’re writing is always great and I get excited when I see you’ve posted something new. Would you consider writing a little something with platonic Caduceus and reader where they have similar personalities and interests, but different backgrounds? Maybe the reader doesn’t have any family to speak of? I’m open to any character class or race :) thank you!

I’m doing well. I’m glad you like my writing and thank you. It’s really nice to hear people get excited when I post new things. I never expected people to like it at all 🙈.  I hope you like the way this one turned out 😘

You were typical city folk. Born and raised in the heights of civilisation; the pride and joy of the Law Bearer Erathis herself. Raised at the temple of the Raven Queen as a foundling the clergy were the only parental figures you knew and they were hardly parents. Your relationship with them is less of a parent-child dynamic. They were your caretakers and supported which is more than a lot of people can say but you missed out on parental pride, love and the ability to confide in someone in such a way. You missed out on the relation with siblings. No running around the hallways of the temple, no secrets between just you and them, no protective older sibling or a younger one that gets away with everything. You had no weird aunt or uncle to tell you ridiculous stories or take you on adventures every so often like the books you’d read as a child. 

Your childhood never bothered you because it was good and happy, just in a different way. You found a mother figure in the Matron. You’d get dreams sometimes, waking up with a single black feather on your pillow. She gave you an appreciation of all things living. Death is a sacred thing but it’s the life that counts. You made it your goal to nourish that what needs a little extra attention and preserve what can be saved before its time, conforming to the natural order. The Matron of Ravens taught you death is just as sacred as life and so you valued it and vowed to upkeep her commandments and preserve that natural order of life and death. 

As a child you spent much time within the public parks and gardens. You had an affinity unrivalled. Making flowers blossom in spring and keeping the branches and roots healthy during the colder months, curing diseases, healing ailments as well as returning to the earth what once came from it upon the passing. When you were old enough these habits carried over to ‘living things’; a term you had to disagree with because all that grows lives. You became part of the clergy and continued your life within the temple of the Raven Queen. 

You were never confined to the temple life. Your work took you far and wide, your expertise wanted by the many. You had tended to the ailments of kings as you had commoner, treating no different. You had tended to the pristine gardens of royalty as you had the fields of a farmer. In the eyes of the natural order all lives are equal in the end and so you treated them in life. 

When a group of strangers came knocking at your door looking for an expert you were surprised by the colourful bunch on your doorstep but heard them out regardless. You were faced with the story of a cursed forest, a sanctuary of the natural order to be disturbed, a family missing and a new one found. A story of beacons of endless stars, possibilities and souls of the preserved to be reborn, conflict, war and death. Stories of salvation, resurrection, a fight to preserve the natural order and save the lives of the many. Stories far and wide yet to be told.

You were needed. Your expertise was needed and when a raven landed on your windowsill staring at you, studying you and awaiting your response you knew it was time to leave behind the life you knew and venture into a strange new world of adventure and the unknown. How could you turn them down? Your help was needed and while the venture might be a bit longer and much riskier than your usual ones, the task remained the same. You’d travel with the Mighty Nein for a while and aid them for however long they needed you. 

You grew to love the Mighty Nein like the family you never had but you have to say from the very beginning you felt a natural gravitation towards the colourful firbolg, a radiance akin to that of the life you vowed to preserve. Caduceus did not hide he felt a same sort of gravitation towards you. The two of you were often paired together on watches or went out together to stock up on supplies for the road, spell components and the likes. The two of you while at first glance are day and night, as your respective deities are when compared, but those who look closer know you are in a way, one and the same. 

You’re sitting on the jungle floor eyes closed listening to the nocturnal critters make their way through, searching for food, hunting and finding their hideouts, burrows and nests before the sun rises and morning comes. A smile on your face, as you take everything in over the soft snoring and slight twisting and turning of some of the Nein. You hear someone sitting down next to you. 

“Good morning.” You say peaking through one eye seeing the pink haired firbolg cup of tea in hand. The two of you had always been and probably always will be the early risers of the group. Old habits? Perhaps so.

“Ah, it is, isn’t it?” He offers you a cup of tea. You take it with a quick thanks blowing away the steam and cool it down a little before you take a sip. A good cup of tea never fails to wake you up properly. 

“How are you feeling? Getting closer to where the Wild Mother has been sending you?” The two of you look out seeing the first light barely bleed through the trees. Caduceus waits a little before speaking, contemplating his answer. His brow furrows. 

“I’m unsure.” Caduceus mentally retreats just a little bit, watching his expression you can see the thoughts rush through his head. You know he worries for his family and how you might find them. A lot is unsure at these times. You can only hope for the best and prepare for the worst but you have faith. 

“You’re worried, for your family. For what might have become of them?” He gives you a bit of a smile and nods. It’s clear Caduceus hasn’t directly been faced with the notion of mortality in this sense close to home whereas in any other situation he’d be fine. 

“I’ve been waiting to see them for a long time. While I trust the Wild Mother’s path, I can’t help but find myself doubting if they are well.” You try to find a way to best approach his concerns and ease his mind. The words of comfort either of you would offer to those coming into your respective places of worship do not apply to this situation nor would they be particularly helpful. You’re not dealing with the dead, just the possibility of death of loved ones. 

“You trust her path and you believe she’s at your side?” You ask deep in thought as a light breeze rushes through out of nowhere. The Wild Mother must be listening. Caduceus relaxes a bit more knowing she’s there. Despite what some may think, the breeze may just tell you what you need to know.

“Yes. I believe so.” He smiles watching the leaves blow, the breeze being carried away into the distance of the early morning jungle, a couple of birds scattering as it comes along. 

You take a moment, close your eyes and reach out your senses sending a little prayer to the Raven Queen. You’re met with a sense of warmth, a soft cawing of a raven flying away and a small light in the darkness. 

“Then they’ll be alright in the end. I don’t sense my Matron’s presence in relation to you. You’ll be reunited with your family once more.” You interpret the signs she shows you. While they might not be a certainty you have faith she would not let you down.

“That’s nice.” You return to staring into the jungle in comfortable silence for a while. 

“What do you miss the most? About home and your family I mean.” You ask a bit out of the blue but you couldn’t help yourself wondering with everything drawing closer and the uncertainty of how you’ll find the Stone family, and what you’ll encounter there. 

“Old habits. The people. The simplicity of life. I’d say the piece and quiet but that wouldn’t be entirely true. Just different kind of noise. You know what I mean.” Caduceus reminisces, dopey smile returning at the memory of his family. You’ve heard some of the tales of his shenanigans when it comes to his siblings. He’s confided in you and you vowed to keep those a secret. Who knew Caduceus could be quite the prankster?

“I don’t actually. I never had a family like yours. The Mighty Nein is the closest I’ve ever gotten to the meaning of a family.” You look over to the sleeping shapes. You wouldn’t trade them for the world but can’t deny it’s still not the same. The others can attest to that. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I apologise if I offended you.” You smile at him. You’d stated before you loved your found ‘family’, the clergy but they were never your real family. It just hadn’t come up your dynamic with them was not the same as a more typical even dysfunctional family. 

“It’s quite alright. I never knew my birth family. I knew the clergy at my temple and that’s alright. I always wondered what it would be like to have parents to confide in, siblings to spend time with, perhaps even share interests with and people who love me unconditionally, people like me but also not. Do you get what I mean?” Caduceus nods in agreement and thinks for a second.

“I understand. Though you might come to take back the part about wanting to spend more time with siblings. They’ll grow on you like ivy in places you don’t want it.” He laughs a little and you join him. 

“They can’t be that bad.” You joke the both of you laughing as quietly as you can trying not to wake the others up. 

“I’d love to meet your family. From what you’ve told they’re wonderful.” 

“They are, in their own ways but don’t tell Calliope I said that.” Caduceus bumps your shoulder and you bump back finishing the last of your tea. You’ve heard enough tales of Calliope to know you better not tell her or she might never let Caduceus forget he admitted it so openly to someone else outside of the family. 

“I’m sure they’d like you too. If you wanted to you could come back to the Blooming Grove with us one day. Clarabelle always wanted another sibling. She thinks Calliope is a bit too stoic. The two of you would make great friends.” Caduceus finishes his tea and you’re a little taken aback. You look for any kind of jest. He must be joking right?

“You’re serious?” Caduceus laughs a little at your reaction. 

“Unless you don’t want to. I think you’ll fit in right along. Our ancestor used to be a champion of the Raven Queen. She might appreciate the return of a new Clay. Not by blood but by heart.” You recall the story he once told about the champions Stone, Dust and Clay of the Matron. You feel a pull in your heart out of nowhere and swear you hear a raven’s caw in the back of your mind. She’d be satisfied. 

“I’d like that very much if they’ll have me.” With Caduceus reassurance his family would very much like you and get along with you you’d see where this would go. Perhaps you would become an unofficial Clay. Your friends are just your chosen family after all so why should it be different? 

You’ll see where your path leads and you’ll stick with Caduceus until either of you grow tired of each other. Not that either of you see that happen. You’ve grown thick as thieves to the point where you could call yourselves siblings. If the two of you claiming yourselves siblings extends into his family then you’d love nothing more. 

A place. A purpose. A home. You’ll have to put the world back into tune first but once the Matron and the Mother call you both home you’ll stick to the path until homeward bound you both be. Both of you lost in thought come to the same conclusion. Caduceus pours the both of you some new tea, cooling it down a bit you both take a sip.

“That’s nice.” You say in unison watching the nocturnal critters go to sleep and the early risers come out and go about their daily business. 

[murderoustedbear]

War (unfinished but I plan to finish it)

My neighboring kingdom, Atarius, has been thriving for years under the rule of an unknown queen. None of her people have seen her face except those in her palace and they are sworn to secrecy. She is known for turning down marriage offers but I plan to win her over. If she does refuse my hand in marriage, I’ll over throw her.

Years ago, my kingdom was grand, as big as hers. However we went to war with a country suffering the plague. As men came back, they spread the illness. Our numbers are low however, her’s are lower. The plague hit them harder than us. There’s a rumor that the queen herself helped nurse her people and was killed from the plague. Of course that would leave the question of who is ruling. No one knows. All I know is her population is about half of mine. With both our kingdoms we could conquer half of Ruasiae.

A knock rings against my chamber doors as I dream of the unknown queen’s face. “Come in.” I roll my eyes.

My royal advisor enters, studying me. “Sorry to disturb you, Majesty.”

“Quill! My dear friend! You are no disturbance.”

He nods, “There’s been news that Atarius’ queen will be holding a ceremony. Invites have been sent out to several of her neighboring kingdom’s.”

At this, he has my full attention, “Ceremony? Of what sort?”

“I haven’t the slightest, sir. I believe she is looking to seek an alliance with some. It’s quite an intelligent strategy on her behalf. She’s had no problems with us, never lifted a finger to harm us nor the other countries. Rather kept to herself and her country. A spy from another kingdom has returned and has news regarding Ityal.”

“The news?”

“He’ll speak only to you, sir.”

“Send him up!” I demand, a bit too harshly. I look at the ridges on my nails hinting at the anxiety they’ve fallen victim to.

Minutes later, Quill has returned with the spy in tow, “Here’s your spy.” He leaves, shutting the door. My mouth goes dry. I can’t believe I called her a him.

“What news do you bring?”

The fragile maiden grins, golden eyes shining, “You’ll love this, sire.” She sits at the end of my bed. “I’m sure you’ve heard the news, the queen of Atarius has sent out invites for a ceremony. She’s seeking to save herself and her dear kingdom. A week ago, Ityal’s widower king sought to court the queen. She shut him down faster than lightning strikes the ground. Well he sucks at taking rejection and so he began plotting to destroy her kingdom. However, a servant that stayed in her castle for a while when he was there had grown fond of her due to her kindness and sent her a warning. She’s trying to find a way to keep her kingdom safe and if she dies in the process, someone to rule for her.”

I consider this. If she turns down my proposal and becomes allies with another country, it may become impossible to overthrow her. “Thank you, um… What’s your name?”

She didn’t answer but instead said, “I was there, at her palace.”

“Did you see her? Tell me about her.” I’m studying the spy now.

“She never spoke, rather communicated with hand symbols that a guard would translate. Her dresses never revealed any part of her body and weren’t tight at anypoint. Her face remained covered the entire time. She didn’t eat or drink around us. She wore gloves. She always had the same guards with her.” I frowned, hoping to have known what she looked like. “She was kind though. We went with her once to check on her kingdom. She doesn’t have any beggars, they all live in cabins and everyone has a job. Everyone contributes to the kingdom. She’s loved by her people. Children will run up and hug her and she hugs them back. She’s an honorable queen, the type that loves her people. The only reason she cares to continue ruling is because if someone else were to rule in her place, they may harm them. She’s compassionate.”

“Good qualities of a queen. Why hasn’t she married yet, do you know?” I inquire, considering the possibilities.

“Many reasons. She doesn’t want someone controlling her and ruling her people, tearing down what she’s built and she feels, marriage will lead to that. She wishes to not have children. She refuses to be married to a man who has a mistress or multiple mistresses in some cases. She hasn’t found someone she loves and will only marry for love.”

“So, if I want to marry her, I need to stay loyal, let her rule her people how she wishes, not pressure her into having children, and get her to love me?” That won’t be too hard.

She scoffed, “You have to love her too! There’s more to it all. She knows how many queens have been treated by their husbands and she want to be treated differently!” She walked out the room without another word. The last thing I saw as the door slammed was fire red hair swiching about.

At this point, I like this challenge.

Two days later

I’m dining alone in my chambers when Quill knocks.

“Enter.”

“Sire, a messenger has arrived.”

“Well let them in.”

A girl, no older than fifteen enters. Her blonde hair braided down her back. “King Arawn of Omirran, I bring news from Queen Myla of Atarius.” She stares me in the eyes, fearless.

“Go on.” It’s unsettling, having a servant look me in the eyes however, I cannot harm her as she is not mine and I do not want to be on Queen Myla’s bad side.

She clears her throat, “You are invited to celebrate the Queen’s twenty-fourth birthday in her palace for a fortnight. The ceremony begins overmorrow. You may bring with you a guest of whomever you like. Please note, upon reaching Atarius’ gates, you and your guests will be searched of weapons. Any weapons held by you and your party will be confiscated until you leave to ensure the safety of the people, the queen, other guests, and yourself. Please be ready to show the guards your invitation in order to be let in the gates.” The girl hands Quill the invite and leaves without another word.

Two weeks. I have two weeks to be in her palace. Can I charm her? Make her love me?

I call in every girl that lives or works in the palace, including the spy. The spy describes Queen Myla and the girls collaborate together a list of possible ways to charm her. All I need is her to develop a crush on me, I’ll propose and she’ll say yes, we’ll get married right away and my kingdom will be expanded.

The challenge is actually making this happen as there’s not much to work with. I don’t know know much about her. However, the strategy is to focus on personality. Originally, I was going to shower her with expensive gift, but everyone pointed out that every other suitor has tried this or will try it and she has turned them all down. I hope this works. I can’t afford to fail.

As the palace begins for my departure to Atarius, I decide that I shall bring her a single gift. I shall bring her a dragon flower from .the palace gardens. One that is yet to bloom so it shall bloom that night.

Two days later

On the day we’re to set out, I wake up before dawn. My thoughts are beasts, tearing my mind to shreds. There’s no way I’ll make her fall for me. No way I can charm her. Whatever higher deity that exists out there in the universe has shown me that.

My entire life, I’ve always believed there’s a higher power who sends us visions in the night. Whoever, whatever, this higher power is, they’ve sent me one and I know better than to question the message they convey.

I call Quill to my chambers and describe my dream. “I was there, with her. The more I tried to charm her, the harder it became. She grew cold in her heart towards me. I tried to tame her heart and call her mine but she did not wish to be trapped. She married me for the same of her sanity and then murdered me. Like a tigress in captivity, never meant to be tamed.”

“Sire,” Quill breaks my thoughts, “Perhaps you’re not seeing the true meaning… Only she can make herself love you. Love is not just an emotion… Love is a choice and she must choose to love you. No one and no thing can make her love you. Just be yourself and let her find you herself.”

This is why Quill is my advisor and dearest friend. He is wise and is always good with advice.

The day drags on as Quills words echo in my brain. Let her fall in love with me on her own. Why does that even make sense? I mean, I know everyone will put on a mask and treat her kindly and act like who they think she’d like so the best way to let her fall for me is to do the opposite.

We arrive at Queen Myla’s palace as dusk begins to blanket the world with her comforting shadows. I can see rulers from neighboring countries gathering to meet the mysterious queen.

Palace guards escort us to the throne room and none can help but marvel at the beauty. The floors are polished black marble filled with golden webs. Obsidian columns tower above, cradling a ceiling of stars. The illusion of stars came from gems embedded in the black ceiling. One would wonder how Queen Myla lit her throne room but she managed. Torches lounged on every column and their glow reflected off the precious stones. My gaze wandered to the front of the room. Two steps up led to a white marble platform that held a silver throne. Seated on the throne was who I assumed to be the queen. Her dark gown flowed to the floor, hiding her legs and feet. As my eyes traveled up, I noticed her gown was not form fitting at all but loose as my spy had described. Her hands were gloved with silver fabric and resting on the arms of her throne. My eyes came to rest on the veil hiding her face. Not an inch of skin could be seen.

Guards flanked her, staring ahead. My eyes noticed a guard standing rather close to the queen, closer than the others. I wonder why.

Queen Myla begins signing something and the guard who was close to her begins to translate the signs. “Welcome all, the queen is delighted to see many of you here and looks forward to celebrating with you. Since Myla has become queen, the country of Atarius has become reclusive and relied on only herself and her people but now it is time to befriend her neighbors and come out of her reclusive state.”

A man from another country responds, “If Myla wants to befriend us, why won’t she talk herself? Or show her face at least?”

The guard’s hand slid to the hilt of his sword, “First off, it is Queen Myla to everyone here, you are in no position to disregard her title or disrespect her. She welcomed you into her kingdom. Secondly, watch your tongue or have it cut from your head. I will not hesitate to show you how to respect a lady. Finally, she owes no one an explanation. If you cannot respect that alone, you are free to leave and never return.”

Queen Myla had yet to move in response to the man’s comment. Her hand glided through the air to the guard’s arm. I watched as she traced something on his bicep. The guard only nodded and relaxed. Did they have a relationship? Is that why she rejected all?

As the night waltzed on, Queen Myla’s voice was never heard, but rather the guard voiced her words for her. I noted that she didn’t eat nor drink. Why? What was her reason for keeping her face covered?

At some point, my curiosity got the best of me. “Your majesty,” I began, “I mean no disrespect but I am dreadfully curious.”

Her head bowed for a moment, an invitation to ask my question.

“Why do you hide your face? Why do you not speak? Again, I mean no disrespect.”

Her hands glided through the air and the guard translated, “I hide my face for many reasons. One is for respect. If I were to show my feminine features, men would not respect me as much as they do, though I am still respected less than men are. By hiding my face, you have no way of seeing the femininity in my face, forcing you to ignore how I may look and respect me. This is why my dresses aren’t like dresses of women in other courts. As for my voice, I was mocked for my voice long before I became silent. It will not happen again.”

“Mocked? How?” I watched the guard, careful not to cross any boundaries.

“I was the only heir to the throne. My voice was soft and fragile. The court used to mock my voice, sneering at how soft it was. I was told to marry a man with a deep, strong voice as soon as I came of age so I wouldn’t have to make any decrees and would be taken more seriously.”

“Were you ever married?”

She shakes her head, “I didn’t wish to be married.”

I nodded, it was understandable. I didn’t want to be married either when I first became king. Probably for different reasons but nonetheless, I could understand. “Queen Myla, I brought you a gift.”

The guard rolls his eyes. He must’ve been tired of all her suitors bringing gifts.

I produced a small box made of midnight valadium. As I stand, I feel everyone’s eyes drift to the box. I thank my blacksmith for being good at crafting. As I handed her the box, the guard stiffens, watching me. I return to my seat and watch as he whispers to her.

Her head bows and she traces on his arm again. What did they say? Her hands glide over the lid and I know she’s admiring the box. I was right to have him engrave flowers. I noticed he had added a small proverb on the lid as well but it’d been too late to say anything. As her hands whirled through the air, the guard spoke, “Queen Myla says the box is beautiful. She loves the inscription as it rings true. Thank you kindly.”

“What’s the inscription?” Another guest asked. We’d all formally introduced ourselves earlier however, I hadn’t cared to pay attention. I was too busy admiring the castles interior. The queen had taste.

“Where there is love, there is hope.” The guard answered. I could hear venom in his voice. He was not pleased.

“Queen Myla,” I smiled, “Open the box, please?”

She nodded and opened it. Her gasp was barely audible as she gently lifted the flower out of the box. My heart gunned, hoping she was happy.

The yellow flower was just beginning to bloom. “I hope you like it. Happy birthday.” I beamed. Why was I happy over this. It was a simple flower as a gift. Well, a flower and a box.

She carefully set the flower down, and signed to a young servant. The servant nodded and left. Then she began signing to me which the guard translated, the venom dripping from his voice, “Queen Myla adores the gift. Flowers have always been among her favorite things.”

“I bet the royal garden is huge then, and lovely?”

Laughter poured from his throat, “No, we don’t have a royal garden.”

“Why not?” I tilted my head to the left.

“Queen Myla simply does not wish to have one. Her taxes are low so she doesn’t take from her people. She bought all the materials from the people of Atarius to give back to them. She believes having a garden strictly for herself would be a waste. However, the entire kingdom has a community garden. Everyone is allowed to eat the food grown and use the herbs. Farmers help tend to it.”

The next few days, we toured Atarius. The kingdom was beautiful. Most kingdoms have run down homes towards the boarders but not Atarius. Even the poorest had decent homes. I learned Queen Myla hated the idea of anyone living in poverty and did her best to ensure no one did. In return, her people were loyal. Many brought her gifts that varied from flowers to fresh baked pastries to jewelry.

She held nightly parties in which the entire kingdom attended or sent their blessings. The parties weren’t grand like others I’d attended. There was no fancy band playing music. No one to cater to you at the snap of a finger. There was a buffet of food prepared by the citizens. Even the queen had pitched in to help prepare the food.

Still, her voice was never heard. She hadn’t even slipped up and said anything. It seemed the entire kingdom knew her hand language. I suppose her voice wasn’t necessary if her people knew her language. I decided to learn her language in order to communicate with her.

On the fourth night of my stay, I asked her for a dance which she graciously accepted. As we danced, I spoke. I knew she wouldn’t respond vocally which was a bit disappointing. “I admire the way you run your kingdom. You run it well if you’re loved so much by your people. You said you were told your voice would make it harder to run a country. I don’t believe that. Your people love you dearly, I believe you’d still be respected.”

I tried to see through the veil that covered her face but even still, as close as I was I could not. “Do you think, while I am here, you could teach me your hand language?”

She nearly headbutt me when she nodded. Her eagerness was endearing. I wanted to know who silenced her and make them pay for their crime. She was nothing but admirable, how could someone be so cruel?

The days bled on and I spent every spare moment focusing on learning the hand language. I learned to say “thank you”, “please” , “hello”, and other simple phrases first. After a day of learning, I’d learned a bit. It was quite simple, though she had to slow her movements for me so I could keep up. By the end of the week, I could translate small sentences.

One day, as we were walking through the town, she and her guard were teaching me. He grew impatient and snapped at me. That’s when she slipped, “Warin! Patience!”

Two words. She silenced and excused herself. I watched as she left. Why had she snapped.

[mintdrop]

[Immortals] | [1,443 words] | [vampire/hunter spearmint AU] | [chapter 2] | [prev chapter]

Given that a vampire had much stronger, fast ability to heal than humans, it didn’t take long for Estinien to recover - at least physically. Mentally, he was a mess. That woman; no matter what he did, she wouldn’t leave his mind. Hell, she had even appeared in his dreams at some point, embarrassing as it was to admit. That asshole that had chased him, he said she would regret something. Was she okay? Would she be punished for saving him? But it wasn’t only that -- why did she save him? Wasn’t she a hunter? Wasn’t her entire purpose to kill things like him? It didn’t make sense. His thoughts were absolutely plagued with her, and it was driving him mad.

“You know, you could just go see her.” A voice pulled him from his personal prison, and his clouded eyes focused back to the scene before him. To his left, a man with a near-angelic face sat there with tea in hand, smiling to himself as he watched Estinien awkwardly shuffle in his seat. Black hair framed ethereal blue eyes, and when he spoke, a brief flash of fangs could be seen, betraying a voice that seemed like it would belong to a deity. “Though it was through your own sheer misfortune, you do know where she resides.”

“The other hunters know my face, Aymeric. It would be stupid of me to go back.” His gaze shifted away from his sire, and he adjusted himself so that his elbows were propped up on his knees, mouth buried within the palm of one hand. “Besides, she’s… she would only suffer for it. I’m sure they think I’m dead, with how she treated her own. What would come of it if they found out?”

Aymeric smiled, and took a sip of his tea before placing the cup and saucer down on the table that separated them. “Then shall we go together? I’m curious to see what kind of woman has your mind so tangled.” He stood up from his chair, not giving Estinien any time to voice his objection to the idea. “As it so happens, I have an appointment with Hilda today. Perhaps we could linger about the guild and see if we catch a glimpse of your savior.”

The late fall and winter months were a gift for vampires; though the sun didn’t harm them as much as fairy tales led children to believe, it did make them somewhat uncomfortable compared to humans. But at the end of November, the sun was gone by time the clock struck five, giving the two men a much easier time to blend in with the bustle of the town. Normally, the southern streets would be emptier than those of the north, where all the shops sat. But today, there seemed to be a commotion. Estinien trailed behind Aymeric, who felt much more confident amongst the townspeople than he did; perhaps it was his face, or simply how he presented himself, but he’d never been suspected of being anything other than a normal human by those he interacted with. Today was no different.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” He called out to a passing woman, who stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed the eye candy that had beckoned to her. “I’ve been out of town lately -- could you tell me why it seems to be so active this evening?” 

“Oh, well, y’know those people who work out of that big building a little ways away? The “Hunter’s Guild,” they call themselves. Anyway, there seems to be some kind of argument going on there.” The woman gestures down the road, where a congregation of people seems to be forming. “Somethin’ about a betrayal or the like.”

Aymeric thanks the woman and turns to Estinien, although he is greeted by what could basically be described as an after image of the man. Pulling up the hood of his outerwear, Estinien rushes down the street, brushing past the people forming the crowd until he has a clear view of the center. To the left stands the hunter who had chased him before - his upper leg is bandaged, and he holds onto a single crutch for support. To the right stands Peppermint, arms crossed against her chest. In the center stands another woman, this one unknown to Estinien. Her hair is short, gray tufts ending just beneath her chin. Her eyes are of a similar hue, and if he’d been focused on anything other than wondering what was unfolding before him, he would have been curious to know if she could still see.

“I’m tellin’ you, this bitch here let that vampire go!” The hunter aggressively points towards Peppermint, a select few of his word slurring together; was he drunk? Maybe not, but he was definitely on his way there. “She’s betrayin’ the whole guild, Y’shtola! She needs ta’ be expelled! Locked up!”

Estinien swallowed, his eyes locked on the smaller woman in the center of this mess. Aymeric, who had finally managed to push his way into the group, watched along. Despite his belligerent yells, Y’shtola sighed. 

“You’ve claimed this for the past three days, Arthur, but you’ve shown no proof. The only thing you have to show is that wound through your leg.” She looks down at the bandaged limb, but her eyes show no sympathy. “Which you only sustained because you decided to trespass on her grounds.” The man’s face seemed to change color in an instant, red rising from his neck at a rapid pace.

“So she gets t’shoot me with no consequences?! And even then, she hasn’t shown any proof of her kill!” He points again, nearly spitting in rage. The smaller woman sighs, her shoulders shrugging. Digging into the pocket of her coat, she pulls out a tuft of white hair, tied at the end where it had been ripped from Estinien’s skull, and tossed it to the ground in front of Arthur.

“I hope you didn’t expect me to parade the corpse around like a trophy. Unlike a few of the hunters here,” her eyes narrowed, coldly glaring at the man across from her. “some of us don’t feel the need to glorify what we do just to get women warming our beds for a night.” While her tone was unchanging, Peppermint’s words were filled with venom -- enough to push the other hunter over the edge. 

Pushing his crutch over, he began to sprout profanities towards her, charging towards her with nothing but adrenaline keeping him steady. Estinien pushed to make his way in, only for his arm to be gripped with extreme force, nearly being yanked out of its socket as he was pulled back. He turned his head to see Aymeric, whose “wait” was drowned out by the gasps of the crowd around them. He turned his gaze back to the altercation, watching as Peppermint sidestepped from Arthur’s aimless flailing. She kicked her leg out in front of her, tripping the man and causing him to tumble face-first into the cobblestone. When he got his bearings, nose threatening to show the beginning signs of an injury, he tried to grab at her calf, although she was able to quickly step out of the way. She walked beside Y’shtola, who shook her head.

“You’re a disgrace to the guild, Arthur. You’re suspended as of today. An official hearing will be in order soon.” Walking forward, she picked up the tuft of hair that Peppermint had provided as proof, gesturing to the shorter woman before turning on her heel and retreating back into the guild hall. From the crowd emerged Arthur’s hunting partner, who quickly scrambled to get the man to his feet. Arthur, in return, simply stared at Peppermint with murder in his eyes before being carted away -- most likely to the nearest tavern to drink away his embarrassment. The crowd, sufficiently pleased with how the argument had turned out, began to disperse.

Estinien simply sat there in silence, unsure of what to do now. Does he approach her? Does he even make it known that he’s there? No, he decides; the faster he leaves, the better for both of them. But fate is a cruel mistress, and rather than escape undetected, their eyes meet. Peppermint’s eyes widen, and for a moment, she’s stunned - until Aymeric walks up to her.

“Good evening, miss.” He bows, smiling at her as he meets her gaze. “I believe a friend of mine has been looking for you. Would you like to take a stroll on this lovely winter night?”

[tenderlyrenjun]

The Rich Truth

part nine | part ten | part eleven

2,2k words

What was that thing about alcohol and sleep people keep saying - it helps you fall asleep better? Faster?

You cannot recall, not that you were trying hard to. Well, your body needs that information as it struggles to fall into deep sleep while the alcohol from last night, or really this morning, leaves your system. Your muscles tense into the bed, trying to keep you in a comfortable, semi-paralyzed position while your heartbeat and breathing regulate. Even your brain turned off the dreaming factor, shutting down to shove all your energy into achieving rem sleep.

But alcohol is not the only thing keeping your body agitated so late in the morning.

Renjun’s phone goes off, and you can vaguely recognize the ringtone while unconscious, but it sounds a lot like the alarm you use to wake up for class. After the fourth blaring ring, you wave a hand over the nightstand with all the charging electronics, dreamily thanking a deity for the hands free option that is going to let you sleep in more, at 11:15 A.M.

Or at least, would let you sleep in more if it was an alarm you had turned off.

“Renjun? Hello? Renjun? If you don’t -”

You bolt upright, eyes wide open and panicked. The blue blanket falls into your lap when you dive halfway across your bed to claw for Renjun’s phone, a woman’s voice becoming increasingly more exasperated.

“Hello, hello, good morning,” you greet in the most proper form you can, simultaneously patting down your messy hair as if she could see you unkempt. This has the same energy as your first phone call with Renjun, you think, as the woman continues in Chinese. You only know a few words and maybe a few beginner characters that pre-kindergartners know, but her fast speech spins your head in circles, taking you back to your native language screaming I don’t know what the hell you are saying in your head until she recognizes your silence as confusion.

“Where is my son?” she asks you, the edge in her voice displaced from him onto you, changing from Chinese to Korean. “Why the hell is he not answering his phone? Who are you?”

Oh, fuck, you think, you are actually meeting his mom right now. This is no longer a joke the two of you can pass around. Well, maybe it will be a joke in the future, but, God, it is terrifying right now. What are you supposed to even say?

Wait.

She asked you three questions and is probably tapping her foot impatiently, something you assume Renjun would do on your earliest phone calls or texts.

You put the phone on speaker and tap through Renjun’s calendar until you find the color-coded system: flamingo pink for Renjun, lavender purple for Jeno, and banana yellow for Jaemin. You vaguely recognized the names on the other schedules, but the thought of investigating them more flies out the window, Renjun’s mom at the forefront of your mind. 

“Renjun, he is in class,” you say shakily, trying to slow down your voice so it appears calm and collected, completely opposite your disheveled appearance. “I ... am his assistant, so I have his phone for the time being while he is in class on a full schedule right now, but I can call him after and give him your message.”

“Okay ... assistant,” she responds hesitantly, somewhat satisfied with your answers and lighting up on the receptive voice outgoing. “Answer me this: why is my son not coming home for Chuseok? I tried confirming with his pilot today that he is leaving Wednesday at 10 after his drawing residency, but no! He apparently cancelled last night and has yet to tell me why.”

Fuck, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck, your brain loops. You do not have an answer for that, and trying to come up for one on the spot has your mind racing through possibilities, but you realize that you do not really know him well enough to give even a half-heart excuse. You actually did not know he was leaving to go to China for Chuseok, just assuming “going out with friends” meant heading out to a club in Gangnam, maybe all the way out to Jeju island at the farthest. Who the hell goes to another country for the fucking weekend?

“Is something wrong?” she asks softer, suddenly worried for her son’s health over anything else.

“No!” you blurt out, almost aggressively, suddenly protective over a boy you just discovered that you barely know. “He just ...” A light blub goes off in your head, remembering all your talks about his work and busy schedule. “His internship is slightly overworking him, and he has a few things to figure out before he heads out for the weekend - he will still see you - and-and he will be in touch with you later on.”

“Oh? Maybe I should have set up a meeting with his department head.”

You mute the phone to scream into a pillow, then breathe a little bit to regain composure. What the hell are you saying? Why the hell are you saying more things, assuming more things? You turn your audio back on, then speak calmly again.

“He says it is not a big de- problem,” you continue using professional tone, catching your slip before she says anything. “Do you have anymore questions? i can talk to him at -” You quickly return to his schedule, scanning all the way to the end of his busy day - fuck, how does he do all this in just one day? - “in 30 minutes during his lunch break before his mixed media class and get more answers.”

“No, just tell him to call me before the weekend. I haven’t heard from him in nearly a month, save for a few texts here and there off his iPad, which is weird because he does not like connecting that thing to WiFi unless he absolutely has to. Anyways, I would like to speak to my son as soon as possible, or else I am going to fly to his school, thanks.”

“No pr-” The phone line goes dead before you can finish the sentence; must run in the family, you think. “-oblem. Okay.” You take a deep inhale, relaxing after that impromptu conversation, and put a palm over your rapid heartbeat.

Then the panic creeps up and you are diving through Renjun’s phone again, punching in your phone number that you have listed under his name just to remember that you are texting another human being, not yourself. His phone rings, obnoxiously long, then it shuts off, so you call him again ... and again ... and again. They say seventh time is the charm, right? That is how the phrase goes, right? Well it must be since it worked; he answered on the seventh try.

“Okay, something either has to be wrong for you to call me seven times while I’m in class,”’ Renjun finally answers before his voice takes on a deeper, mischievous tone, “or you’re just needy which I don’t mind. After all, you looked really h-”

“I talked to your mom,” you blurt out, interrupting him. You are doing that a lot - maybe the Huang family just ... does something to you, makes you want to blurt out every random, tangential thought you had.

“Oh?”

“She said you’re supposed to go to China this weekend?” you ventured into that unknown part of his life, leaving a questioning inflection at the end for him to tell you that you are wrong but he says nothing, his silence acting as confirmation.

“I’m still going,” he informs you slowly, like he is making sure precious glass will not break. He really does not know what else to say, especially since his brain is trying to expel thoughts of linear programming and your little black dress, in favor of talking with you. He also does not want to accidentally reveal how he feels about you, but it looks like the situation is catching up with him, almost giving him the perfect opportunity to say hey, I like you! Please, I hope you like me too.

“Oh,” you say, dejected, not knowing how to respond either. You do not feel close enough (?), maybe, to ask him to stay, but you want him to and you want to officially meet him. The holiday would be the perfect time ... but ... he is leaving ... even though ... “She said that you cancelled your flight.”

“Yeah.” There is rustling on the other side of the phone as he rubs his neck, unsure what to disclose. “It was pretty last minute - the cancellation, but I was going to talk with my pilot to get an early flight on Thursday morning, after class today, which I guess has ended prematurely due to your phone call.”

Your face heats up and you hide in a pillow you pulled onto your lap midway through Renjun’s explanation. “Sorry.” Then you get a little braver, not really wanting him to leave just yet; you feel like you neglected him a little bit last night, and even though he is busy right now, you want to hear his voice - it is nice to semi-wake up to, just as it is nice to semi-fall asleep to after your nightly FaceTime chats. “Can I ask why you wanted a later flight?”

Renjun nods his head, then realizes you cannot see him. “Right, yeah. I wanted to ask if we could meet, like tomorrow or Wednesday, but I was waiting until tonight to ask.”

“Oh,” you drawl out, surprised by him again. You kind of expected to meet him after the holiday or to, you didn’t know, push off meeting him for awhile before your feelings for him grow too strongly and he says something like how he does not return them.

“Look,” he catches your attention with the serious edge in his voice, almost as if he read your thoughts, “I’m - I - I just have to ask, because you are driving me absolutely insane - first with this whole situation, then with that dress last night -” you look down at your outfit, the black material having rode up and bunching up at your waist; you decided to take it off and put on some pyjamas, not that those were anymore modest, but you do not have anything until two this afternoon. “Hello?”

“Yeah, no, still here,” you call out to the speaker, dragging the dress off your head. “Just putting on different clothes; you reminded me that I was still wearing that dress.” You laugh, hearing him inhale and muttering something about exhausting it is to talk to you sometimes. “I just changed into pyjamas.”

“Are you going to snap me those too?” he asks, a mix between hopeful and playful. “But no, I just have to ask: do you like me?”

“What?” you snap to the phone, finished tugging on a warm sweater with a Keith Haring design on the sleeve. “Why - why are you asking?”

“Just tell me, please,” he begs softly with that powerful voice of his, “because I am really starting to fall for you, to like you, I mean,” he backtracks, not entirely sure how strong his feelings are for you just yet. “And I don’t really want to waste any more of my time, especially if you don’t feel the same way.” He pauses, trying to gauge your silence, but it is hard since he cannot see you, despite how desperate he is right now for even just a real life glimpse of your face. You say nothing though, prompting him to continue this monologue with awkward rambling until you say something, anything. “You’re not obligated to like me back. I know that you think people have a hard time rejecting me and that I easily get what I want, but this relationship involves two people, you and me, oh fuck, not a relationship-relationship, or yet at least, if that’s what you want. Fuck, does this make any sense or am I scaring you off ag-”

“Yeah,” you answer, eventually processing all his words.

“What?”

“Yeah, I like you, too,” you smile wildly, kicking your legs forward like an excited child sitting in the car on her way to get ice cream after school. You want to say that you are falling for him too, but is that too soon? Is that too serious, especially at your age? There are still so many questions you do not even know how to answer yourself, but you wonder if Renjun can help you answer those questions. After all, they are about him.

“Really?” he asks you, wishing that you are being truthful with him.

“Yeah, really,” you smile at the wall, wanting him to be there with you in this moment so you could at least kiss him to show him that you are serious.

“Okay, okay,” he repeats, then his voice gets more enthusiastic, “Awesome! I still have class and stuff today, but I’ll text you later about when we can meet, okay? I’ll talk to you later, babe.”

Renjun hangs up the phone, letting you sit in silence for a minute. Your head reels in so many thoughts, mostly positive because you cannot believe that a cute boy likes you back! You let out a girly love struck screech, then fall back into bed with smile plastered on your face. Then the phone goes off, alerting you of a text:

[crimsoncarcass]

Hello I logged in on 1/11/2021 by accident but here are some feelings

This is not the blog I wanted to find. This is not the one I thought I’d log into. This is not the account I hoped to remember or to write in, but my thoughts are important, my feelings are important, and recently pain soars through so much of my mind that I forget and shut down. It’s like everything leaves me, my mind, in a wisp of the wind, and the numb feeling of all those emotions of pain, hate, is all that is left with the tear thaat welled up in my eyes, that couldn’t drop for some reason. Why is it? That ever since Kuro left, I’ve stopped something inside that could still change and grow? What is it that I fucked up in myself to have a fake girlfriend, a fake romance, and fake emotions? I am lying to myself, I know, but about what? I can’t even tell. There’s nothing here for me at the age 24. There is nothing here in this whole world because I have hid myself from everyone, even myself, to the point that maybe there’s no way to open up again. To me, I have always separated, segregated, and kept them away; those people that cared and the friends and people who actually reached my heart-- even those people, are something that I try to erase from my heart every day. I try my best to open up physically, to be more present, to be more honest and to be genuine and myself, and yet, every few days when my repressed emotions surface, I find myself deleting myself, deleting the memories, deleting people, and in one way or another, distancing myself. 

Even when I look back on the good memories, I smile at it like a parent to a child, somewhere inside me, it says “We all grow up and leave some day”, and there’s a warmth behind all those words, but it sounds so cold. It sounds so cold to my soul that the tears that well up, sometimes drop down my cheek. Sometimes it makes me scream into my pillow because I can feel my skin, my extra fat on my chin wrinkle up and my nose scrunch up, and I don’t want to imagine what I look like. Sometimes I can let my voice out if I unwire all the way, sometimes, actually most of the time, I am silenced. Muted. 

Yes, that’s how I cry. Why do I write this? I don’t even know, maybe I think someone will read it one day. Maybe I think the pain I hold inside will be noticed one day, and even understood. Maybe I think someone who knows a similar pain will approach me one day -- and I won’t be so alone. Maybe I will find someone I can relate my trauma to, my despair with, someone I can truly connect with like Sophia was. Maybe all I’m looking for is a way to ask for help, someone to show up and prove that surviving was worth it, that the suffering I went through in life was something I wouldn’t regret or cry about. Maybe one day I will wake up in that dream I had in my happiest moments... Do you want to hear the dream I had? I had it one random night I stayed on call with Kuro. We slept on phone calls all the time, it made me feel safe, it made me feel like someone was actually paying attention to me, even when they weren’t. I didn’t feel abandoned, and I never thought he’d abandon me, and it was the best time of my life. Sometimes, he would be so exhausted, but we always laughed, whether it be the bad Vietnamese I practiced to tell him “Good Night” or “Thank you”, or just a random thought. I have seen happiness, and perhaps I should be blessed enough from that.

In the dream, I’m sitting on some random window with my violin in my hand. Whether or not there is an actual seat is unknown, but whether it be comfortable or uncomfortable. I looked hella cool. I had no trauma playing my violin, it was like I practiced 8 hours a day again, but from my own will. And I was doodling my own composition, I was spaced out and unfocused but i was inspired. There’s a kettle blowing in the back of the house, the kitchen, and I hear a female voice yelling in the background. It’s almost exactly like my mother, perhaps it was her too, but before my mom, out of the hallway comes another, a better and more familiar voice-- Kuro’s voice. “GIN OH MY GODD” is all I could make out of the yelling and the distant kettle stops its high pitched drone. I stop playing and turn around and yell “IM SORRY” and despite a happy undertone, I feel my face holding an “oops” expression on my face. My mom comes out from the hallway too with her high pitched yelling, she’s always like this but her voice along with Kuro’s scolds me and somehow, it’s all good. I feel a warmth in the way they scold me and at this point the dream is so fuzzy I don’t know if I had any visuals, but I remember the bright white screen in my head, and the simple warmth and relief in my chest that tomorrow will be an okay day. It was so nice, it was the best dream I’ve ever had in my life. If I died, I’d want to live in that moment forever. Even if I don’t die, I want to feel like that once in real life.  I don’t know what I felt. I don’t know if it was love. I don’t know if it was affection. I don’t know if what I felt was acceptance. I don’t know if it felt so good because I left all my trauma and depression behind, maybe I got over my exes in that moment. Maybe I --- I told Kuro so many things, near the end I had so many delusional dates I wanted to do, I told him everything I wanted to do with him...and yet, I was probably the one who broke his heart.  I wish you could tell me. What do I do now? What should I do? I know what you said, you told me to take care of myself, you told me to put myself first and to make myself happy. You told me to do all of these things and I’ve been working, working so hard. I have been doing everything you told me to, I promise. I just haven’t gotten to the brushing your teeth thing yet, I can’t do it yet, and sometimes I even think that you don’t come back because I can’t even brush my teeth by myself every night yet. But I don’t because what if ...what if I do get myself together, and you still don’t come back? How will I ever get better if I lose hope? I know you don’t want me to coin you as my life’s hope, I know you probably hated it and it weighed you down so much that when everything broke, you quickly found a way out-- and I respect everything you’ve done and do, I don’t think you’ve done a single thing wrong and even if it hurts, I know you must be in a better place by now, because that’s how you are. You never go anywhere that isn’t better. But with you gone, I can do anything I want with you in my memories can’t I, even if that means turning you into some miracle, some deity in my book that I can obsess over?  Kuro I’m not better. I’m not sure if I’m getting better at all. Sometimes I feel like my life is coming together, and then I remember it’s all going to fall apart, and it hurts and hurts so I shut it away like you did, because negating your feelings was what you were good at, and I couldn’t understand until recently I met Jessi, and she has taught me how to do it and even enjoy the process. I wish you can come and stop it, because right now you have such power over me that if you said one word I’d do anything to obey your wise words. Please, just please. I wish you’d let me forget to wait for you. I wish you reply one day, I wish one day I forget all of this. I don’t even know how anymore. I don’t know what to do with your memories Kuro. I can’t change maybe. Maybe this is really where I end at age 26. Did you know? The zodiac readings from the japanese blogs and professional fortune tellers all say that 26 for my year, is actually a Huge bad luck Year? I really think it might work. I really think that this will happen. But atleast I had you once. I fucked up Kuro. I get it now. After so much remorse and overthinking, I stopped thinking in details anymore. So now the answer is simply, I fucked the fuck up. And this is it. I’m going to die at age 26. And so far, everything is confirmed and it seems no one can really stop me anymore. I keep waiting for a sign, a message, a symbol, or an experience, that can keep me alive and going, to not kill myself at 26. But I think...so far, its not going so well.  The only person I feel sorry, and truly truly sorry for, is Vally. I don’t know how much time I have left, but I know for sure, that the time provided between Vally and I, were probably meant to be longer-- but I’m not sure if I can make it through my 26th year. I’m planning to do a phone call this weekend with her. I don’t know what I’m going to tell her, everything is such bad thoughts and bad endings, I don’t know what to say. I dont want to tell her anything that isn’t confirmed yet, but maybe its better for her to hear it early? But who can really tell her, a true companion, a true trauma-bonded victim, a true compassionate ally of yours, the most trustable person in the world, even more than Kuro at times,... that so far, it’s about 87% confirmed that I will kill myself in 2 years?

[victimofthemusic]

Five Times Tony Stark Was a Good Dad (And One Time He Wasn’t)--Part 6

Hello guys! It’s been a while since the last installment of this and I thank you for your patience. I’m terrible at writing angst and this chapter is filled with it, so it took me a while to write it. But it’s here and I’m proud of it and it’s long, so hopefully that makes up for the wait. It begins during Infinity War and I made a few changes to the movie, so, there’s that. I hope you guys enjoy it! :)

Read Part 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 here!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony’s been questioning every choice he’s made in his entire life ever since they’ve infiltrated this stupid space donut, hurling two hundred miles an hour towards uncharted intergalactic territory.

He knows in his hearts of hearts that this is a one way ticket, there’s no possibility, not a chance in hell that his feet will ever touch solid ground—Earth—ever again. He’s never going to see Pepper’s smile, smell her perfume, hear her laugh. He thinks of the last conversation they had, the thought of a unknown child, the thought of the future. The thought of Peter playing with a small ginger haired kid, with his eyes and Pepper’s nose and her penchant for making him be better, want better. He thought of Peter and the kid working towards his final years in high school, already picking out colleges and making plans for his future.

All of that went up in smoke when he followed this flying saucer and the world was at risk again. His world—Pepper, Peter, Happy, Rhodey—was in danger and he mourned the loss of that future for a second and then all thoughts of children and wedding venues left his mind and it was set on saving the world. For Pepper. For Peter. For Rhodey. For Happy.

And that kid—that frustrating, eager to please, always ready to save someone even if it means his life—shows up, with his movie references and his big heart and his penchant wanting to save everyone in trouble.

The dread that had settled like lead into his stomach since boarding this giant space ship increased ten fold when Peter Parker came out of the shadows and punched his one way ticket to space with no certainty of return.

But seeing Peter, a kid, his kid for all intents and purposes, with an entire future a head of him, stand there in the middle of a space ship hurtling them further and further away from Earth—which was safer by a bigger margin than this level of unknown, foreign territory they were currently in  —and marvel at his surroundings lit a fire of determination to get that kid back home, back to his aunt, whole and happy.

Even if it meant he didn’t get to go with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Their plan was going to work.

It was shaky and risky, at best, but this Mantis was sure she could subdue Thanos enough so they, Peter and Tony, with combined forces, could get the gauntlet off and kill Thanos and not just save the world from almost complete eradication, but they could go home.

Home

Tony believed in this plan because he had to. He had to believe that he was going to get a chance to save Peter, who was torn between watching a twitching Strange as he filtered through all possibilities, all the outcomes of their victory and observing Titan with awestruck eyes. He had to believe that at the end of this, Peter was going to get to walk away from it, unscathed and go back to Earth, home to his aunt May and his friends and live as normal of a life as he could. One that didn’t involve intergalactic war-zones and aliens hell bent on imposing their will on the entire universe.

“Do you think this is going to work?”

Tony looks down at Peter, dressed in the IronSpider suit he’d designed for him when the thought of something horrible happening to this kid kept him up at night, the same suit the kid turned down weeks later when it finished because he wanted to continue to look out for the little guy and Tony hasn't believed in God for a number of years, but he finds himself praying to any deity that will listen, that he can get this kid through this.

He looks nervous, scared, but there’s a determination in his eyes that gives Tony the confidence to look his kid in the eye and reassure him.

“It’s going to work, underoos.” He says, putting his hand on Peter’s shoulder, give it a squeeze and through the armor, he feels him relax, like Tony’s assurance was all he needed to believe. In himself. In them. In this plan.

“Okay,” Peter says, blows out a breath and when he meets Tony’s eyes again, all his fear and nerves are gone. Replaced with a confidence and a fire that makes Tony feel even more determined to prove to Peter that his  words deserve the blind trust Peter places in them.

And when Tony hears Strange announce that there’s 14,000,605 possibilities, alternate futures and outcomes that can stem from this fight for their lives, he’s almost afraid to ask the number of times they can win, but he’s Tony Stark and he will forever put more stock into numbers and statistics than any prayers one can utter, he asks anyways.

“And in how many of those outcomes do we win?”

Strange’s lips form a grim line when he replies, “One.”

One

He feels Peter tense beside him and the sober air turns even more foreboding at this revelation, this new piece of data and Tony wonders if they were better off not knowing.

Because out of fourteen million scenarios, they only win in one.

Which means they have 0.000007% of winning.

And, when Tony looks around, that means that at least half of them are going to die for that one chance they have in saving the entire universe.

He looks to Peter and he makes peace with the fact that he’d happily be put in that half that dies trying if it means Peter is in the half that lives.

One

One chance to save this kid that’s engraved himself on Tony’s heart and who Tony would do anything to protect, give up everything to protect. Pepper, Happy, Rhodey, the hypothetical child that he dared let himself dream of having because of this kid, standing next to him.

And Pepper, bless her, would understand.

Because despite it all, Peter was his son.

And he would give anything to give his son the one chance to go home.

So he placed his faith in science and numbers and his technology that his son would be in that half that got off this red wasteland and let this day become a memory.

He has one chance

~~~~~~~~~~

It was working

Their plan was actually working

It was working, they had it, the gauntlet was coming off, just a little bit more to go and then—

Snap

The fighting stopped, an eerie silence settled over the forgotten planet and they braced themselves for the promised awful that was to come and then—

Strange went first, falling to his knees and gasping as if he couldn't breathe and then—

His body began to break down and disintegrate, floating off into thin dust particles and then he wasn't there.

Tony whipped his head around, eyes wild as he watched as it started happening to Quill, Mantis, Drax—their bodies began to turn to ash, until they disappeared into thin air and then nothing.

“M—Mr. Star—Tony— I-I don’t feel so good.” Peter gasped and Tony turned his wild eyes to Peter, who was falling to the ground but Tony grabbed him before he could, falling to his knees with the weight of Peter and he tried to ignore the fact that it already felt like dead weight

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Tony panted, trying to hold back the panic, “You’re okay, it’s okay—“

Not Peter, please not Peter

Peter’s brown eyes were wide with fear and panic and Tony’s hand shook as he held the kid tighter, “I-I don’t want to go, please Tony—“

“You’re not going anywhere, it’s okay—“ Tony tried to sooth through blurry eyes.

“I’m scared Tony—please-d-don’t let me go—“ Peter pleaded, his eyes begging Tony to fix it.

Not my son, not my son, please not my son

“Stay with me Pete—no don’t close your eyes, bud, please—“

Peter’s cheeks were wet with tears and Tony could feel his legs begin to disintegrate, ignored the way he felt lighter and the ash that began to float in the air where parts of Peter’s body used to be.

“I-I’m sorry, Tony, I-I tried—“

Tony was trying so hard to not let his tears fall but his heart was reaching unhealthy levels of panic, “You did so good, bud, I’m so proud of you.”

Peter gasped and his face began to blur and Tony wanted to scream, “Peter, I’m going to fix this—Pete stay with me bud—“

“—Tony—I—“

No nonononononoo

“—Pete? Please, buddy, you gotta—“

“—I’m sorry, Tony—“

Peter’s hand was gone, his brown eyes closed and his body—the ash that was Peter—drifted away and Tony screamed in agony, his tears mingling with the sweat and blood and his heart felt like it was going to shatter and disintegrate right along with Peter’s body.

Peter was gone

He was gone

It was supposed to be me

~~~~~~~~~~

He doesn't know how long he floats in space, he knows the number is upwards of twenty-something days, and all he could think about was how he wishes, more than anything, he would've floated away in the wind with Peter.

He didn’t want to leave Titan, Peter, it had taken Nebula physically shoving him in what remained of the space doughnut and forcing tools into his hands to get it up an running, handing him a purpose, to get him to leave. They managed to get it running, enough to get off Titan and headed towards open space and if Tony didn’t feel like he was leaving a piece of him behind, he would be staring out at the planets and galaxies with wonder.

For someone who was more computer than human, Nebula was observant and kept her distance from Tony for the first few days, allowing him to wallow in his own grief and regret. But as the days wore on, the ship needed repairs and despite the growing bleakness of their situation, the low food and water supply, Tony was grateful for the distraction.

They were a good team, Nebula was calculating and matter of fact, knowledgeable with mechanics and computers and the foreign mechanisms used in a space ship.

But she wasn’t Peter.

And even up to his elbows in foreign mechanics and spaceship guts, he couldn't help but think of his days in the lab with Peter. Everything reminds him of Peter and it makes his chest ache and his eyes sting.

“Was he your son?”

It’s day fourteen and Tony’s up to eyeballs in the ship’s main engine, screw driver between his teeth while he attempts to rewire the main power source to give them the extra boost they would need to get them home. The question makes him pause and the wire in his hand short circuits, shocking him and he curses under breath at the burnimg sensation it leaves behind.

The question is simple, but the answer is complicated and complex and everything in Tony aches. He wants to go home. He wants to find that purple bastard and bash his head in until his blood stains the orange dust on that wasteland of a planet. He wants to turn back time and never allow Peter on this ship. He wants to go even further back and stop that god forsaken spider from biting Peter in the first place. He wants to trade places with Peter, he wishes that it was him who turned to nothing, not Peter.

Never Peter.

He just wants Peter.

He’s gone beyond the normal social standard of time one has to answer a question when asked, but Nebula either didn’t notice or care, just watching him intently from her own project across from him.

“Yes,” he said eventually, fiddling with the wires again, the burn on his thumb smarting and it distracted against the other wounds that were throbbing in synch with the beat of his heart, “he—Peter—he is mine. Not biologically speaking, but yeah, he is—was my son.”

Nebula cast her eyes downward, “I’m sorry my father has caused you so much pain.”

Tony eyed her for a moment, considering, “I’m sorry you had to call someone so ugly ‘dad’.”

He didn’t mean it as a joke, but Nebula gave a sinister hiss that resembled an incredulous laugh, “He was no father. Thanos might have taken me and called me his daughter, but he wasn't a father.”

“And I thought I had Daddy Issues.” Tony muttered.

Nebula gave him a odd look and he realized his joke was lost on her.

They settled back into silence and their respective projects.

When stands Tony stands to go forage for food in their dwindling supply, he pauses, turning to look back a Nebula, who's diligently mapping out their route home and he has to clear his throat from disuse.

“I’m sorry your father has caused you so much pain. I know what he did to your sister and I’m sorry.”

Nebula pauses, the map above her spinning and twirling in order to find their best option home and she stares so long at it, Tony wonders if she’ll even respond.

Just as he’s turning to leave, he hears Nebula speak, “She wasn't really my sister, you know. Thanos took her, like he took me. He murdered my family, her family and all my other siblings families. But he saw something in us worth keeping. And I hated my other siblings. I hated Gamora, too. Thanos—he would make us fight against each other, preparing us for battle. And she would always win. Always. And every time she did, he would replace a piece of me with metal and armor. An upgrade, he called it. I hated her for it. But she protected me, in the end. She fought for me and she saved me.”

She looked up at him and for a moment, Tony could see his own pain reflected in her eyes, “She wasn't my sister. Not by blood or biology, but I will avenge her death if it’s the last thing I do.”

Tony feels the same need for vengeance in his chest and it burns almost as much as the ache in his chest that was left behind the minute Peter disappeared in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~

They’re out of food. They ran out of water a day ago and the hope he had at the beginning of the journey home disappeared around the same time they ran out of supplies. Their ship is in shambles and they’re floating among the stars aimlessly.

Tony feels the hunger pains in his stomach, the dryness of this throat and the chill that has settled over the inside of the ship. He can no longer feel his toes or his fingers and he wonders, idly, what will kill him first. The lack of food, water or the cold.

He’s never felt this level of helplessness before. Not since the cave and even that situation didn’t seem as dire as this. At least in Afghanistan, he was on Earth and closer to human life, closer to a chance of a rescue attempt.

But here, floating further and further away from Earth, millions of millions of miles away from any human life form, the chance for the calvary to recuse them were very slim.

Fatigue settles into his bones and he closes his eyes, resting his head against the glass window of the ship. He feels a numbness that has nothing to do with the freezing temperature. He just wants it all to end. The hunger, the thirst, the hope, that maybe, maybe help his coming. The hope that maybe this is all just a nightmare and he’ll wake up from it. He knows what it’s like to have nightmares this real, to be trapped inside his own mind and he hopes that this is just a nightmare.

Hope, Tony thinks to himself dazedly, what a debilitating and crippling concept.

He slips into a fitful sleep and a part of him hopes that this time, he won’t wake up.

Hope

What a cruel and bitter bitch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Someone was nudging him.

That was the first thing Tony registered as he woke from the memory of Peter pleading for his life. The taste of failure was bitter on his tongue and he swallowed, wincing at the sandpaper texture of his throat.

He blinked up at Nebula, who was kneeling over him with a mild look of disgust on her face, “What?”

Nebula gave a sound which sounded both relieved and annoyed, “I thought you were dead.”

Tony rubbed his eyes and sat up, wincing at the ache in his bones, “Sorry to disappoint you, Blues Clues, but I’m very much alive and well.”

Nebula hissed in what was annoyance, Tony was now sure, “I do not understand such a statement.”

“Blues Clues? The little blue dog that’s always accompanied by a vaguely suspicious man who likes to spend a lot time around children and make believe characters?”

Nebula merely blinked, “Are you intoxicated?”

Tony snorted, “I wish,” he muttered, “Now why did you wake me up?”

Nebula nodded out the window and Tony followed her gaze, wincing against the bright gold light that lit up the dark void that was this area of space.

“What is that?” He demanded, scrambling to stand up, because yeah, that orb of light was heading right towards them.

“I do not know, but it’s heading right for us and this ship can’t take much more.”

Tony swallowed heavily, glancing over to his beaten and battered suit that was slowly turning into a crude version of an Iron Man popsicle. His heart was racing in his chest, his mind was a blur and he had no idea what they were going to do if that thing made impact.

He opened his mouth to ask, plead, beg, scream, he would never find out because whatever that glow-y thing was—an orb, a meteor—was knocking on their door.

Nebula reached for the gun at her hip and she cautiously made her way over to the entrance of the ship, opening the door slowly and Tony swore he was hallucinating because okay, that was a woman, who was glowing and currently suspended about a trillion feet above earth like it was an every day occurrence.

“Who are you?” Nebula demanded, raising her gun at the woman.

“I’m Carol Danvers,” The woman replied, completely ignoring the gun being waved in her face, glancing around the cabin of the ship until her eyes land on Tony.

“Tony Stark,” Carol Danvers said with a small smirk, “You’re a hard man to find.”

“I’m sorry, but I missed the part where we know each other, you’ve been absent from all the super-hero meetings.” Tony said, giving her a wary glance over.

Carol smirked wider, “I’m more of a one woman operation.”

“Oh well, I appreciate the whole lone ranger thing, but what are you here for?” Tony said, leaning back against the wall of the ship. He was beginning to feel dizzy from all the standing, his knees were shaking and his body felt weak to the point where he wanted to sit down and sleep for a million years.

“To bring you home.” She said, her voice softening, concern lighting her eyes as she watched Tony slowly collapse against the wall.

Home

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the ship landed, Tony couldn't bring himself to look out the window, couldn't bring himself to hope that this wasn't another dream, that this was real. He wasn't floating, lost in some dark void of space. He was here, on earth, at the compound.

Home

The mouth of the ship opens slowly and tears fill his eyes at the sight of the tops of the trees, the smell of pine filling his nostrils and when it finally lowers, he sees Pepper first, followed by Happy and then Rhodey.

His heart fills to the brim with joy and he hardly believes what his eyes are seeing.

And then his eyes land on May Parker among the ones to welcome him back and something in him shatters at the hopeful expression on her face.

Peter

He collapses when he takes his first step and he just lets himself fall, but strong arms wrap around him and knows without even looking that it’s Steve fucking Rogers that catches him.

He keeps his eyes on May and watches the horror fill her eyes, along with the tears and he breaks.

“I lost the kid,” Tony whispers brokenly, “I lost the kid.”

Steve’s grip tightens around Tony and for the first time since the kid turned to dust in his arms, a sob rips through Tony’s throat and he feels the absence of Peter like a stab to through the chest.

He made it home and Peter didn’t and that fact hurts worse than any blow ever could.

I’ll keep him safe May, I promise.

Nothing will ever happen to him.

May Parker’s hysterical sobs match Tony’s and it rips the remaining shreds of Tony’s heart to pieces.

“God, Steve, I lost the kid.” Tony says and it hits him, now just how permanent that is.

I lost him

My son

He’s gone

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony stays in the hospital for two weeks.

Bruce wanted him to stay longer, but Tony ignored the protests and checked himself out of the medical wing and he wants to disappear for a while.

He knows the others want to start talking strategy, to devise a plan to reverse the damage, to find Thanos and make him pay for what he did.

But Tony just wants to disappear. He doesn't want to think, he doesn't want to talk about Thanos and space and stones and what could or couldn't happen if they gather all the stones.

The only thing he wants is Peter and he can’t have that.

His first stop when he’s out of the medical wing is to stop by the bar and grab the oldest and biggest bottle of scotch he can find, not even bothering with a glass that has dust settling around the rim from lack of use.

He’d tried to be the father that he’d always wanted and that meant being sober. As long as he had Peter in his life, Tony hadn't touched a drop of alcohol. He never wanted Peter to pick up the habit and he never wanted to be intoxicated in case Peter ever needed him.

Something like guilt settles in the pit of the stomach, but the reminder that Peter isn't here and won’t ever be around again, hits him like a shot to the gut and he unscrews the bottle and takes a long pull, wincing at the burning in his throat.

He wanders through the compound, through the hallways and down corridors that he doesn't recognize and he takes long pulls from the bottle and finally, his feet take him to the lab.

He’s unsteady on his feet and the bottle’s half empty, but the ache in his chest has yet to lessen and Tony stumbles into the lab table, catching himself on the edge of it and righting himself.

He looks at the lab through blurry eyes and so many memories swirl in his brain, the kid sprawled out on the couch, up to his nose in homework. Peter leaning over his web shooters, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration. Peter’s bright laughter when he his web formula exploded over both of them. Peter’s excited science babble. Peter complaining about the level of Metallica and Tony admonishing him for not knowing his classics.

“It’s AC/DC there bud, respect the classics.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “I think you need to let go of the classics, it’s hurting my ears.”

“I knew I’d find you in here.”

Tony startles at the voice, looking up at Steve Rogers leaning against the doorframe of the lab and watching him with a guarded expression.

Tony has to blink several times to get the extra Steve’s to go away and he straightens himself as best as he can, still leaning against the lab table for support.

“What do you want, Rogers?” Tony demands tiredly, taking a swig from the bottle still dangling in his hands.

“Everyone’s looking for you, we’re worried—“

Tony scoffs, “Like any of you care.”

“Of course we care Tony, it’s why we’re here.”

A bitter laugh slips through Tony’s lips and he shakes his head, “Oh yes, you all care so much. Tell me, Rogers, did any of you care when you left me with a broken suit in the middle of fucking Siberia? I don’t recall any of you weeping at my bedside while I wasted away in a hospital bed for two months after Cho had to reconstruct my sternum from your little shield, on top of the hypothermia and frost bite.”

Steve winced, opening his mouth to protest, but Tony had been waiting for this moment for almost two years, he wasn't going to have it taken away from him now, “Or how about Rhodey? Not one of you reached out to him to see how he was doing after your little ant buddy paralyzed him from the waist down. You know it took almost a full year for him to learn how to walk again? And that was after I had to spend months perfecting the technology to do so. You left me with a flip phone and a note that wasn't any form of an apology and you took almost everyone I had ever cared about away from me.”

Tony laughed, “So why now Steve? Did your little buddy get snapped along with the rest of the others? Am I supposed to come up with another plan to save his ass when he’s done nothing but destroy any family I ever had? You knew he murdered my parents and you kept that to yourself. You were supposed to be my friend ,too. Or was I just a place holder until you could find Barnes?”

“Tony—“

“So screw all of you, every single one of you. Because none of you cared then and none of you care now.” He took a swig from the bottled and collapsed into one of the chairs and put his head in his hands.

God, he was drunk. And tired. So tired. He just wanted to curl up on the couch in the corner of the room and fall asleep. But he knew what would be waiting for him when he did. And he couldn't spend another night reliving Peter’s death. He couldn't do it.

A hand settled on his shoulder cautiously, and Tony shook it off.

Steve sighed, shuffling backwards to give Tony his space, “You’re not the only one who’s lost someone, Tony.”

Tony stood up so fast the room spun and he had to grip the table for balance, “Don’t,” he warned lowly through gritted teeth, “don’t you dare go there, Rogers.”

“Tony, we lose good men and women in battle, it’s hazards of the job—“

Anger like Tony had never felt before swelled in his gut, hot and unyielding and before he could even think, the bottle that was on the table next to his hand was in his grasp and thrown at such a speed across the room that even Steve the super soldier almost missed it. It shattered against the wall and the scotch splattered everywhere and Tony couldn't even bring himself to care.  

“PETER WAS MY SON! HE WAS A CHILD, NOT ONE OF YOUR GODDAMN SOLDIERS! SO DON’T TELL ME THAT IT’S A HAZARD OF THE JOB, ROGERS, BECAUSE PETER DIDN’T DESERVE TO DIE!”

White hot pain flared in his chest, an ache so deep Tony felt like he couldn't breathe. He collapsed into a chair and put his head in his hands, feeling the wetness on his cheeks and he realized he was crying.

“Peter was—he was my responsibility, I was supposed to protect him—and I—I couldn't save him,” Tony whispered, his voice cracking, “he just—disappeared and he was so scared and I couldn't save him, there was—there was nothing I could do. And he’s gone and not coming back and I—I shouldn't be here, he should be here—“

“Tony,” Steve said, his voice gentle, “it wasn't your fault.”

“He wasn't supposed to be there! He wasn't supposed to get on that fucking ship! He was supposed to stay here, to be here, with his aunt and looking after the little people, he never—he never wanted this,” Tony said desperately, waving his hand in a vague gesture and Steve understood.

“Tony,” Steve said, his voice still low, calm, “it wouldn't of mattered if he was here or in space, with you. He would’ve…disappeared, regardless. We don't know why it only affected certain people, but either way, losing Peter wasn't your fault. The only person to blame is Thanos and the only way to get Peter back is to figure out a way to reverse all of this.”

He placed what was supposed to be a calming hand on Tony’s shoulder, but Tony shook him off, “And how the fuck do you suppose we do that, Rogers? The only hope we had at reversing time got dusted with Peter and with Strange gone, we have nothing. Unless you’ve got Doc Brown’s phone number—“

“So you’re just going to give up?” Steve demanded, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

“What do you want from me, Captain Spangles? Do you want me to dust off the ole DeLorean and go back in time to when this purple bastard was born and kill him? I’ve done many things, Rogers, but time travel isn't one of them. It can’t be done.”

“But I thought Tony Stark could do anything.” Steve said with a hint of sarcasm and Tony wished he had another glass bottle to throw at his head.

“I’m only a human, okay?” Tony snapped, “I can’t solve everything. You people think that I have the solution to everything, but you’re missing one important thing.”

“And what’s that?” Steve demanded.

“I spent every waking moment on that god forsaken ship thinking of ways I could fix this and bring Peter home. I thought of everything, every single possibility and I came up with the same answer. It can’t be done. Because if it could, Peter would be here, safe. I would've never left that ship if it meant that I could've saved Peter. And he’s not here. And I get to live with that for the rest of my life. This is the one problem I can’t solve and it kills me. Do you get that? So it’s not for a lack of trying, because I tried. I tried and I tried until I almost lost my mind trying to think of ways to bring that kid back to me. But I can’t, Steve, I can’t.”

Tears fill Tony’s eyes and he wants to scream and yell until he doesn't have a voice, because Steve doesn't get it.

He had to hold the closest thing he had to a son in his arms while he died and there was nothing he could do. Peter died and Tony didn’t and that is something Tony will never be able to live with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They have a memorial service for the ones that disappeared after the snap. They light candles and place them in front of pictures of the fallen and Tony can’t bring himself to look at Peter’s picture. May picked it out and Tony knows it took her days to even bring herself to look at the stack of photos that Happy had brought from her apartment.

Everyone is dressed in black and Tony has flashbacks of his parents funeral and he desperately wants a drink.

They take turns sharing memories, stories and Tony can’t choose which one he wants to share of Peter. He doesn't know if he wants to share Peter with a room full of people who didn’t know him. Peter was his family and most of the people in the room had decided a long time ago that they didn’t want to be a part of his family.  May can’t get through her speech without breaking into tears and Rhodey escorts her to her room to lay down.

Tony locks himself in his room afterwards, because it’s the only place in the compound that doesn't remind him of Peter. A bottle of scotch becomes an extension of his left hand and he fades in and out of a drunken stupor. He doesn't bother to keep track of time. He doesn't eat, he doesn't shower, he just…exists, as this empty shell of a person and it’s pathetic, he knows, but he doesn't care.

It’s on day five, Tony thinks, that F.R.I.D.A.Y. tells him that May Parker is outside his door and wishes to speak to him.

Tony hasn't seen her since the memorial and the first thing that goes through his mind is the memory of her gut wrenching sobs when she realized her nephew was one of the many that turned to dust. And Tony just can’t deal with someone else blaming him for Peter. He blames himself enough for the both of them.

Without waiting for a response from him, F.R.I.D.A.Y. lets her in and he can’t meet her eyes.

She doesn't say anything at first, she just comes in and sits at the end of the bed, Thor the puppy following right next to her.

The sight of the almost fully grown puppy makes a sob build in Tony’s throat and Thor, as if sensing his sadness, comes over and rests his head on Tony’s knee and Tony can’t help but chuckle wetly, combing his fingers through his soft fur.

“He’s been a mess since—“ May stops, her eyes watering and she can’t even bring herself to say it, “I thought maybe—since you got him for—well, you both look liked you could use someone.”

Tony feels the ache in his chest ease slightly and his throat tightens with tears and unspoken words at May’s thoughtfulness. He doesn't know what to say to her, what he could even say to make any of this better. To express how sorry he was.

But she reaches over and grips his hand tightly and he knows without words that she feels it, too. This hollow ache where his heart used to be, like someone ripped it right through his sternum. It hurts when he breathes, his lungs in a constant state of restriction and he can barely breathe through it. He hasn't felt this way since his parents died and even then, this feels worse. Because he was there. And there was nothing he could do.

“May, I—“ He chokes and the tears fall hot on his cheeks and she can only squeeze his hand tight, “I’m so—so—sorry, I never—I never wanted this—not for Peter—not this. I couldn’t—“

“Tony, I—“ She takes a breath, “I wanted to blame you—but I know that you loved him as much—as much I do. And I couldn’t. I knew Peter—“ she winces at his name and her hand shakes in his grasp and he just holds it tighter, “he would've never let you go up there by yourself. And I’ve talked to the others, they think—it would've happened regardless.”

Tears fall silently down her cheeks and Tony wants to look away, but he doesn’t, “I know you blame yourself—but it’s not your fault. None of it.”

May looks down at her lap and fiddles with something for a moment, before handing it to Tony.

It’s a picture and Tony outright sobs at the sight of it, because the memory of that day hits him like a wave and the wound inside him splits wide open.

It was taken on Peter’s sixteenth birthday.

It had fallen on a week day and after much persuasion, May let Peter skip school and spend the day with Tony while she was at work. He surprised Peter with a trip to Coney Island, where he’d rented out the park for the day and they spend the entire trip riding the rides, eating too many hot dogs and too many sweets and they rode every ride at least three times.

Tony couldn't remember the last time he’d had that much fun and you could see it in the smiles on both their faces, big and bright, so much happiness radiating from both of them. Peter filled a void that Tony never knew was there until the kid came into his life. He brightened up every room he came in, spreading his infectious energy with every one he met, Tony included.

Peter had given him so much, had changed him in so many ways and now he was gone and Tony just felt lost. Peter had given him a renewed sense of purpose in life and now, Tony wasn't sure about anything.

“When I lost Ben, there were days that I felt like I couldn't even get out of bed, the loss felt so strong. Ben had been my life for so long, we’d been together since high school and when he died, I felt like he’d taken everything that I was at my core away with him. I was a shell of a person, for so long and there were many days that I just wanted it to end. I wanted to quit my job, I wanted to curl up underneath the covers and tell everyone who was telling me everything was going to be okay, to fuck off. Because it wasn't going to be okay. It will never be okay that he’s not here.”

She looks down at the picture held tightly in Tony’s grasp and gives a watery smile, “Peter was my strength. I had never wanted to be a mom—Ben and I had decided that we were okay with not having kids. And then Peter comes along and I couldn't help but fall in love with this shy, quiet, smart and sweet little boy. He’d just lost his parents and I’d never seen a five year old look at the world with such determination before. He was fearless and he made me brave.”

She sniffles, wiping at her eyes where tears had fallen and Tony’s heart feels like lead in his chest.

He brushes his fingers over Peter’s face and he wishes, more than anything, he could’ve saved him. That he could've gone in his place and if he was given the choice, he would’ve. God, he would. He would've gotten on his knees and begged that purple bastard to spare Peter’s life and take his.

The world could exist without Tony Stark.

It couldn't exist without someone like Peter Parker.

“You’re the only one who can fix this, Tony.” May whispers and her voice sounds so hopeful and broken at the same time. Desperate and frail and Tony feels like she's asking him for something he can’t give her.

“Peter wouldn't want you to throw in the towel, not because of him.” She continues and Tony just feels tired.

He stands up from the bed, tossing the picture on the nightstand and he just wants everyone to leave him alone.

“Why does everyone assume that I can just snap my fingers and reverse everything Thanos did? It might’ve been that easy for him, but it’s not for me. I have no idea where he is, where the stones are and other than inventing a time machine, there’s nothing I can do.”

May looks down at her lap and he can see the angry flush on her cheeks from where he’s standing across the room. She stands, smoothing out the creases in her black dress and it punches the air out of his chest when he realizes it’s probably the same dress she buried her husband in.

She brings her gaze to his and he finds himself amazed at the amount of determination that are blazing in her eyes, “You survived a crude heart surgery, made a suit in a cave and figured out of to survive with a glorified battery in your chest to keep you from dying and you’re saying this is too impossible for you?”

Tony doesn't reply, he doesn't know how to. Because he succeeded in all those things out of pure luck and an eidetic memory. The plans for the arc reactor was already there for him, the parts for the suit were already there, ready to be molded into something with a little creativity.

What she was asking, this was uncharted territory.

“Peter loved you like a father Tony and you once sat there and told me you loved him as a son,” May continued, her words harsh, “And if there’s anything that I’ve learned in the last twelve years of being a parent, is that no matter how much you want to, you can’t give up on your kids, no matter what. And if it was you, Peter would never give up if it meant that he could bring you back.”

May comes closer, the hard edge disappearing and replacing it, a desperation matching his and he closes his eyes to shield himself from it, “You can do this Tony, I know you can. You’re the only one who can fix this and bring him back home.”

“And what if I can’t?” He whispers, his voice small and beyond scared and that’s the truth of it all.

He’s terrified to hope. To dream and believe that this whole situation they're in is reversible. If he failed, it’d be like losing Peter all over again and this time, Tony doesn't know if he could survive it.

“Then you try again,” she says, “you try as many times as you can and in the end, if you can’t—if this is permanent…” she trails off with a sad smile, “I’ll never accept the fact that he’s gone, but it will bring us more peace to know that we tried everything we could to bring him back to us.”

She pats his cheek and leaves the room, shutting the door behind her and Tony collapses onto the bed, rubbing his hands over his face.

He looks over to the night stand, where the picture lays against the wood and he picks it up. He studies the smile on Peter’s face, the brightness of his eyes, the red in his cheeks, flushed from adrenalin and pure joy and Tony can’t help but smile despite the tears steadily falling from his eyes.

Peter was his purpose in life, he was the person Tony wanted to leave his legacy to, should Peter want it. He belonged in future Tony had envisioned for him, he belonged here, on Earth, and continue to spread the kindness and care he readily gave anyone he came across in his life.

Peter deserved a future, a second chance.

And if the world could grant someone like Tony a second chance—and the jury was still out on whether or not that he’d really deserved it—then Tony was more determined to give Peter one, too.

With one last look at the picture, he tucked it into the pocket of his worn jeans and headed down to lab, Thor the puppy following hot on his heels. Tony was so lost in his thoughts he forgot the dog was even here, but the knowledge that he’s got someone, soothes something in Tony and he finds himself thankful for the little guy.

“FRIDAY? We’ve got work to do, honey, start the coffee.”

“Welcome back, boss.” FRIDAY responded.

“Now you great purple bastard,” Tony murmured, grabbing a tablet, “what did you do with those stones?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you guys for reading :) Please let me know what you think! :)

[jahaanofmenaphos]

Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

Read the full work here:

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QUEST 10: CHILDREN OF MAH

QUEST SUMMARY:

The Mahjarrat are dying, and they want answers as to why. To get them, they must journey back to Freneskae at the behest of Zaros, who promises them freedom from their Rituals once and for all. When Zamorak gets wind of his intentions, it leads to the two deities meeting for the first time since the great betrayal…

CHAPTER 3 - SHATTERED WORLDS

Freneskae. The whole world would roll away before you, made all the more beautiful by its utter hostility. Caves big enough to fit a cathedral, rivers of glowing orange snaking along the floor like the arteries of some giant protean god… it was a crudely carved nightmare of a realm.

Wahisietel had very few fond memories of this world. He wasn’t a strong voice back on Freneskae, not like Azzanadra or Zamorak, but he was fiercely in favour of leaving for Gielinor when the opportunity arose. Anything to leave the unforgiving and aggressive climate. There was no sanctuary - muspah raids were a constant threat, much like the storms and lava flows that often decimated their camps. Tribal politics could sometimes lead to more devastating results than the muspah; Wahisietel was never high on the totem pole, therefore he knew to keep his voice down and his head low, lest he be thrown to the Marker over some petty grievance.

Twice he was put forward for sacrifice. Both before Sliske was born, once by his own mother who wanted to rid herself of her underdeveloped offspring. Wahisietel had been far slower in learning magic as a child and was mute for many years. He had to resort to bludgeoning his rival half to death with a sharp rock before the dying Mahjarrat was dragged away to the Marker to be sacrificed.

At least when Sliske was born, he had someone to look out for, and someone to look out for him. Their shared mother never liked Sliske either, so the half-brothers had common ground.

Sliske learned magic fast, and became an adept shadow-walker at a very early age. He dealt with his first Ritual opponent with prowess and ease.

Wahisietel was envious, but he refused to let it get to him. After all, once Sliske was around, Wahisietel was never offered for sacrifice anymore. Sliske’s strength and usefulness to the tribe helped him rise up the ranks quickly, and his connection to Azzanadra certainly garnered him significant protection. It wasn’t until Gielinor that Wahisietel and Azzanadra were even on a first-name basis.

If it wasn’t for Sliske, Wahisietel doubted he would have even made it to Gielinor.

Wahisietel knew exactly where the World Gate had sent them - The Falls of Mah. It was acknowledged as the most dangerous part of the journey to the Ritual of Rejuvenation Site, the last obstacle at the end of their pilgrimage. Once at the Ritual Site, they could banish the muspah hoards, just like Mah had taught his elders. Wahisietel hadn’t been there when Mah appeared before the Mahjarrat to teach them their Rituals. Out of the hundreds that had been present, only two were still alive - Zamorak and Bilrach.

The blazing river was the most hazardous of all the challenges to overcome. It was a time of heightened seismic activity, so the rivers of lava bubbled and burped forth huge pillars of flame. Wahisietel had seen too many of his kin succumb to its fiery depths, and he was not looking forward to traversing it again.

Still, it was necessary, since teleportation was out of the question. Teleportation was never a viable option on Freneskae. Due to the seismic activity of the world and the constantly shifting ground, you could never be certain where you were going to land. What you once remembered as solid ground could have long since been turned into molten lava, dropping you straight into your smouldering demise. Even now, with their better understanding of teleportation magic, the Mahjarrat knew they would be soaring into the unknown if they tried to teleport themselves to the Ritual Site.

The rest of his kin had emerged through the World Gate by now, taking in the landscape of the life they had left behind. Except Khazard. Since he was born on Gielinor during the God Wars, he had never seen Freneskae before, and looked more than a little terrified.

Bilrach set his jaw, his tongue exploring the empty cavern of his hollow mouth. “Curious. The pull on our energy here seems even stronger than before.”

Akthanakos, taking in his companion, pointedly remarked, “Looks like I am not the only one to revert. Even you have assumed your skeletal form, Bilrach.”

“Assumed, yes. Reverted, no,” Bilrach corrected. “I have decreased my energy signature to be as low as possible, thus extending the little time I have left, hmm.”

If skeletons could blush, Akthanakos would have turned cherry. “Oh, well yes, of course. Following my example, obviously.”

Azzanadra was silent as he took in Freneskae. He may have described the world as beautiful, but even he wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of returning to their birthplace.

“Come,” he ordered, gazing out at the falls before them. “The Ritual Site is not far from here, but we must tread carefully.”

“Can’t we just teleport there?” Khazard asked, naively.

“Not unless you want to boil,” Akthanakos rolled his eyes, then thought better of it. “No, wait, that’s a brilliant idea, Khazard. You lead the way.”

Khazard opened his mouth to reply, but Hazeel cut in, “Stay close, Khazard. Tread exactly where I tread.”

When Mah appeared to the Mahjarrat at The Beginning, she taught them many things. The two that stuck with them the most were the two Rituals - the Ritual of Rejuvenation and the Ritual of Enervation.

Mah told the various Dreams of Mah tribes - of which the Mahjarrat were a part of - that when the terrible muspah hoards rose from the ground and swarmed them, they had to journey to the Marker and sacrifice one of their own in the Ritual of Rejuvenation to vanish the foul beasts. She also told them that when ground trembled fearsomely, they were to divide into pairs and join their energies together to soothe the tremors in the earth. In doing so, they would also bring new life into the world. After each Ritual, the Mahjarrat enjoyed a serene peace that could last for years. Well, as much peace as Freneskae would allow. The ground would settle, and the muspah would cease to exist, but lightning strikes, rockfalls, volcanic eruptions, attacks from other tribes… the Mahjarrat were never out of danger. But the absence of two major threats thanks to the Rituals was a godsend, literally. Hence, they diligently performed the Rituals whenever necessary, and sometimes even when they weren’t, using them as a political power tool.

The Rituals were pillars of Mahjarrat culture, but they were a burden drawing them to the brink of extinction. But today, if Zaros was to be believed, they would undertake their final one.

It was a promise Zaros made centuries ago. When Icthlarin took Sliske’s wights from him, he made an enemy that day. An enemy that soon led the Mahjarrat into Zaros’ service.

Wahisietel remembered that day like it was yesterday, when the majority of his tribe first came to Zaros. It took a lot of assurances from Sliske that the deity’s proposal was above board, and Zamorak had helped bring the entire tribe around. Wahisietel wanted it to be real. He wanted a leader worth following. Icthlarin was not that leader.

Zaros was... he was everything and more. He was salvation incarnate. He and his men didn’t look at the Mahjarrat with fear or disgust. Zaros promised them power and authority, and a respectable place in the society he was building. But the most interesting thing was the way he observed the Ritual that took place.

A fierce debate broke out amongst the Mahjarrat in regards to whether or not a Ritual of Rejuvenation - which had ceased during the war -  should be performed in order to continue their tradition, although many thought it would be meaningless without the Marker or a volcano. After Azzanadra explained to Zaros what the Ritual of Rejuvenation was, he offered to create a replacement Ritual marker, and expressed a desire to watch the Ritual occur. With a marker, the Mahjarrat agreed to partake in the Ritual. After it was finished, Zaros explained that in the absence of Mah - whose existence he did not question - the energy intended to appease her was instead distributed amongst the present Mahjarrat. He claimed that on Gielinor, unless the Ritual of Rejuvenation was regularly performed, they would all gradually whither and die. But he also told the Mahjarrat that they needed to use them more sparingly. Every five hundred years, it was agreed upon.

Then he said that, in time, he could free the Mahjarrat from their Rituals entirely.

That was what won Wahisietel over.

It had taken centuries, but the end was in sight. If Zaros came through, the Mahjarrat would finally be free.

The elders always advised to not wander from the lava path, advice the handful of Mahjarrat dutifully followed on their way to the Ritual site. Already they could see the Marker piercing the murky clouds above. The only sparks of brightness on the desolate world were the Ritual Markers. The Marker was a beacon of pure elder energy that shot up into the skies, illuminating the lifeless landscape around it. Nearer towards the ground, rocks and debris orbited its core, trapped in its gravitational pull.

But as they carefully made their way along the precarious route to the Ritual Site, they saw something else invading the skies above them, something else that scratched and clawed its way into the heavens, looming over the Marker.

Wahisietel gasped, gazing up in awe at the looming figure of a sleeping Mah, towering over the present Mahjarrat like an anguished shadow. “It’s… it’s Mother Mah!”

Never in his life had he gazed upon the twisted and tormented face of his creator. Only those that were there at The Beginning had that honour. But she looked so… so different to what the legends described. And yet, he could feel their kinship, feel the gravitas of her presence calling out to him. The haunting figure embedded in the rocks above them was unmistakably Mah.

At the Ritual Site, another figure was bathed in Mah’s shadow - Zaros.

“Thank you for joining me here,” Zaros called out to them, his booming voice cutting through the groans and rumbles of Freneskae’s ambience. “I understand you all are skeptical, but it is time I put your worries to rest. I know what is draining you of your power. To solve this crisis, we must conduct one final Ritual.”

Enakhra’s teeth snapped together. “You brought us here for another Ritual? You said there would be no more sacrifices!”

“And I spoke the truth,” Zaros calmly replied.

Bilrach was not convinced, letting it be known by the low grumble of a “Hmm…”

“Then... you mean a Ritual of Enervation?” Hazeel hesitantly met the gaze of Enakhra, who opened her mouth to object, before Zaros cut her off.

“No. I will aid you in a Ritual of Rejuvenation, but we will draw energy directly from Mah.”

Akthanakos gulped. “F-From Mah? Our creator?”

“I have more information that you would benefit from hearing,” Zaros continued. “Mah is the drain on your power that you have all been feeling. It will not stop while she exists. She cares for you. It is my assessment that she dragged herself here to give you the last of her energy.”

Wahisietel clarified, “So your plan is to transfer Mah's power directly to us?”

“Yes, Wahisietel. You would gain more power than you have ever experienced, and with Mah gone there would no longer be a need for your Rituals. You would have her power - enough energy and strength to sustain yourselves indefinitely.”

Enakhra exhaled a deep breath, her narrow eyes closing in contemplative acceptance. “Alright. I may not trust you, but I cannot fault the logic of your plan, Zaros.”

Akthanakos rolled his eyes derisively. “Of course your tune completely changes at the first sniff of power.”

“There will be no more bickering,” Zaros declared, resolutely. “We must take advantage of Mah's peaceful slumber to begin the Ritual. I need all of your full concentration now. It is time. Focus your energy-”

“ZAROS!” The voice stormed across the horizon, reverberating around the Ritual site before its owner had even fully manifested into view.

Zamorak had arrived.

Turning his attention to the newly arrived god, Zaros said, “Zamorak. Right on time, and just as before.”

“That’s as close as you’ll get to a joke, so I’ll take it,” Zamorak strode into the centre of the gathered Mahjarrat, staring down the Empty Lord with prideful venom. “You’ve taken advantage of the Mahjarrat long enough. Not this time, you hollow prick.”

“Your insolence knows no bounds. Even when I offer salvation, you challenge me. Foolish child.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” Zamorak warned. “I beat you once, don’t think I can’t do it again.”

Whether Zaros could smile was something of a mystery, but Zamorak could feel the cruel upturn in the diety’s lips. “And yet the fear in your voice betrays your words. There is doubt in your eyes, not fire. You lack the confidence and naivety you wielded the first time you challenged me.”

Perhaps there was doubt in his eyes, fear in his voice, but Zamorak made a show of hiding it. “I’m more powerful than I was back then, and don’t think you can manipulate me with your twisted words. I’m immune to your controlling aura.”

Zaros raised his chin. “Hmm, so you know about my curse.”

“Ha! Curse... bullshit,” Zamorak snarled. “It’s how you accomplished everything. I figured it out thousands of years ago.”

Khazard piped up, “What do you mean, ‘controlling aura’?”

“Anyone who gets too close to Zaros will gradually be compelled to follow him. It’s false devotion. Clearly it affects some more than others,” Zamorak explained, shooting a derisive glare at Azzanadra as he implied, “I believe the effect is stronger the weaker the individual is. But what do you say, Zaros?”

“Yes, I am flawed,” Zaros admitted, coldly. “Doomed never to know whether the loyalty I inspire is genuine unless I withdraw myself as I have done. It is no gift.”

Enakhra snorted a laugh. “Then Azzy and his sidekicks are just lovesick weaklings!”

“Wrong,” Zaros assured before Azzanadra could get his licks in. “Their loyalty has always been unwavering, despite my complete absence from this world.”

“Enough bullshit,” Zamorak snapped. “I know what you are doing, Zaros. Pulling the strings with your empty words and promises.”

Zaros’ voice was still calm and measured. “I know how to free them, Zamorak. I know how to free you.”

“Me? You think I need your help?”

“Your power is draining too, as is mine. We are all of the same composition, a family of sorts. I am in the same peril that all of you are.”

“For fuck’s sake, your plan is even more transparent than before,” Zamorak shook his head with indignation. “You’ve lured them here to drain them of their power. Are you truly so desperate to save yourself that you would sacrifice them all?”

“No, Zamorak. You are wrong. Always so blinded by hatred,” Zaros was growing exasperated now, and increasingly frustrated. Thinking an example might help his cause, for actions speak louder than words, Zaros said, “Here, let me show you how I can use the Ritual Marker to channel Mah's energy into Khazard-”

“DON’T TOUCH MY SON!” Zamorak roared, launching a bolt of dark energy towards Zaros. Instantly, the other deity caught it with a spell of his own, holding back Zamorak’s attack with ease. Zamorak was really having to force himself forwards just to hold Zaros’ attack at bay. The surrounding Mahjarrat daren’t get involved. Even the Zamorakians, who saw their god struggling, knew better than to interfere. Seeing two of Gielinor’s most powerful deities battling it out under the slumbering figure of Mah was terrifying.

Zaros twisted his hand and another smouldering jet of magic blasted towards Zamorak. It struck the Mahjarrat god’s wings, catching them alight and incinerating them within seconds.

“You will pay for your insolence with your life!” Zaros bellowed, watching with cruel satisfaction as Zamorak howled in agony, sinking to his knees as the spell started to overwhelm him. “Even now, it is a shame to end your life. You could have been so much more.”

With one hand on the ground, Zamorak resiliently continued to hold back Zaros’ attack, using all his strength and power to form a crackling energy shield around himself. Nevertheless, Zaros’ onslaught continued.

“I never asked for this burden,” Zamorak growled, panting through the exhaustion. “Everything I did, I did for the Mahjarrat. If I am to die… then the power YOU gave me will become theirs!”

Suddenly, Zamorak broke the shield, allowing Zaros’ full might to strike him. As he did so, he channelled a spell that connected himself to the Ritual Marker, attaching his entire life force, his entire being, to the Marker. When the connection was made, every Mahjarrat became enveloped in a green aura.

Wahisietel could feel his power being restored, he could feel himself being rejuvenated as Zamorak made himself the sacrifice.

It took Zaros a moment to realise what Zamorak was doing, his eyes wide with confusion and indignation. “What? No!”

Instantly, he broke the spell. Zamorak tumbled to the ground, weak and weary. Enakhra and Hazeel dared not move an inch, in horrified awe at the display of power they had just witnessed… but Khazard was not deterred. He rushed to Zamorak’s side, turning him over to see glazed eyes meet his own. The god was coughing and panting, gasping for tight lungfuls of air that struggled to come.

“K-Khazard…” he managed to whisper.

Khazard was still in shock. He thought his father had perished alongside his mother, in the battle of Uzer during the God Wars. Of all people he could claim kinship with...

“L-Lord Zamorak… my father?” he was mumbling, more to himself than Zamorak. Fortunately, Zamorak’s crystal had not been damaged in the battle. Whether any internal damage had been done was another matter, but considering Zamorak was at least trying to stand was a good sign. Khazard helped him to his feet. Zamorak was huddled over, clutching at his stomach, using most of his remaining strength to glower at Zaros. “Why didn’t- ah!... you finish me off?”

Zaros’ cold, measured voice returned, but with an underlying hiss of resentment. “Your self-sacrifice instills devotion in your kin... Somehow, in opposition to everything I try to build - everything I try to give - you stand against me. And it inspires others to do the same. I will not make you a martyr.”

Zamorak waved Khazard away, back towards Hazeel, in case Zaros decided to go for round two. “Then what will you do?”

“You have always had such potential, Zamorak. Even now, you are the embodiment of everything I preach. Such desire to overcome your limitations. I cannot let you go to waste. I am afraid we are far past the point of trust though. There must be precautions this time.”

Zamorak didn’t like where this was heading. “I’m not going to be your pawn. Not again.”

“It is a shame you cannot see the value of joining me. The things we could accomplish together…” Zaros sighed. “I see only one way we can mutually benefit from this predicament. I suggest we invoke Vinculum Juris, an ancient demonic pact that I am sure you are familiar with.”

Zamorak spat out a sharp laugh, but the pain in his chest was sharper. “You really are batshit crazy if you think I’ll let my fate be tied to yours.”

“You have no choice. If you wish to leave this place, I need to know you will not interfere with me again,” Zaros had a way of threatening without actually threatening, since the monotonous tone of his voice rarely changed.

Zamorak, however, knew the deity well enough to know what he was implying. “Argh, spit it out then. What terms would you have bind us?”

“Sliske has the Catalyst,” Zaros began, “He claims he will give it to the victor of his games once the eclipse is upon us. I know you are planning to obtain it. You will continue to do so, but within his final game you will perform one action at my request. You will know which request I intend for you to act upon, because I will refer to you as my Legatus Maximus when I address you. In return, I vow to deliver upon my promise. We will conduct one final Ritual. When it is complete, every one of you will have increased in power and the drain on your energy will be gone.”

Enakhra finally found the courage to call out, “The pact will bind him to his word, Lord Zamorak. He will have to free us!”

“I cannot give him what he wants, Enakhra,” Zamorak affirmed. “There is no telling what he would do with the Stone!”

Hazeel spoke up in a much softer tone, “Zamorak, brother, swallow your pride. We have no other option…”

Zamorak’s resolve was slightly weakened. He gulped. “Hazeel…”

Suddenly, the shadow of Mah began to creak into life, knocking a few stray rocks from their perch.

“Hmm, Mah stirs…” Bilrach commented, so matter-of-factly that one would think he wasn’t afraid of the vengeful elder god above them. “The clock is ticking faster. I see no other path to salvation, my lord.”

Exhaling heavily, Zamorak turned back to Zaros with narrowed eyes. “You know what happens if you break this vow, Zaros. Vinculum Juris is not forgiving.”

“Yes… I will be undone,” Zaros confirmed, bluntly. Vinculum Juris was one of the oldest pacts in the universe, instigated by demons that somehow managed to weave the fabric of fate to do their bidding. It was a simple contract, but deadly to break. You made a promise, you swore by Vinculum Juris, and if you did not hold up your end, the universe would unwrite you from existence. Nobody, not even Zaros, truly knew how or why they worked… but they did. One such contract was how Zaros scored his first army, twelve demonic legions, giving him the power and might to start challenging for territory on Gielinor.

He’d also seen what happened to those who broke their end of the contract, as had Zamorak. With that first hand knowledge, neither would dare go back on their word.

“Then it is no longer a matter of trust,” Zamorak raised his chin. “Keep your word, or cease to exist.”

“We are clear on the consequences. Do you accept my wording?”

“With one last Ritual you will end the need for any more, preventing any further energy drain, which will in turn empower us all. If you deliver on this promise, I must perform one action for you in Sliske's game.”

“And the request I intend for you to act upon will be denoted by...?” Zaros checked.

“You will address me as your Legatus Maximus,” Zamorak confirmed.

“Then it is settled,” Zaros declared. “All those who stand before bare witness. Let us begin.”

Simultaneously, the two deities began reciting the brief contract in Infernal. As they did, bright white energy began spilling out of their mouths, their eyes glowing possessively. “Animus contrahendi. Vinculum Juris!”

Both then fired a harmless spell at the other. When the spells met, the contract was sealed.

“It is done,” Zaros announced, solemnly. “We are bound.”

“Your turn, Zaros,” Zamorak wasted no time. “Hold up your end of the deal. Now.”

Zaros agreed, “Yes, it is about time. Mah will not sleep soundly for much longer.”

“What must we do, my lord?” Azzanadra eagerly asked, his heart in his throat.

“The Marker is acting as a conduit for Mah to siphon energy through. I will reverse this process,” Zaros explained. “This will allow you all to channel power through the Marker, as you would in a Ritual of Rejuvenation. The difference being that this time the Ritual will draw on Mah's power directly, infusing it into each of you. Permanently.”

Khazard was nervous, his eyes flitting between Zamorak, Zaros, and the slumbering Mah. To Zamorak, he asked, “Lord Zam-... F-Father… can we really trust this to work?”

“He is bound to his word by Vinculum Juris, Khazard,” Zamorak assured. “Either he keeps his promise, or he will be killed. It’s a win-win.”

“Then let us begin,” Zaros stepped forward, raising his hands aloft as he tried to tether himself not only to the Marker, but to Mah and the Mahjarrat simultaneously. Zaros was the conduit for this entire ritual; Mah’s energy would be pulled through the Marker by him, and then into the surrounding Mahjarrat. It wasn’t the standard way the Ritual was performed - it couldn’t be, not for what they were trying to achieve - but Zaros was confident that it would work, providing there were no interruptions.

But as the tenuous connection was made, Mah stirred again, and the skies above them darkened. With a death-rattle and a piercing shriek that could shatter the heavens, the Mahjarrat began to shiver. Not since they left Freneskae had they encountered such foul beasts as the ones that began to slither towards them now.

The muspah had spawned.

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

Previous chapter / Next chapter

[timetrickster]

Aloha Oe X Edith Nox Crossover Special Ep. The Wedding Of Edith Nox Part 1

So... I kept this a secret for over a while now... I didn’t tell anyone because wanted it to be a surprise and... I did sneaky beaky lying... but it was all to make this fun little thing. 

@cometworks Surprise! I hope you like it!

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS NOT CANON! I REPEAT NOT CANON! THIS IS A FUN COLLAB WRITING AMONG FRIENDS!

FADE IN:

EXT. ABRICOT

Three years have passed since The Battle Of Abricot. There was no new threat, no new Black Beast. All was at peace with the world, in this universe.

INT. ABRICOT LIBRARY

Gathered around the Story Time Area, were children surrounding a woman. Holding a book in her hands. The woman was EDITH reading a story to them.

EDITH (V.O)

And there came a day, unlike any other, where the kingdom’s unlikely heroes came together and united against The Shadow Goddess. The Ice Warrior, The Dark Angel and their leader, The Savior. Her fellow warriors stood back to back against the Shadow Goddess and her army of malevolence. There stood the fourth warrior, The Hero, not of this world. A man who walked in eternity and left stardust in his wake.

He aided the three warriors in their battle against the Shadow Goddess. In the final moments of the battle, The Savior had reached out her hands, sending a wave of love out to both deities. Where they had found peace with each other. Thus ending the battle, in the end, the three warriors were celebrated for bringing peace to the kingdom. The Hero had eventually gone home as his mission to help was over now.

The End.

CHILD

Ms. Nox! (She raised her hand)

EDITH

Yes, dear.

CHILD

Where’s The Hero now?

EDITH had smiled at the thought, having not seen JUSTIN in three years.

EDITH

I’d like to think he’s still out there. Traveling the stars on his ship. Protecting and defending like all heroes do.

CUT TO: EXT. UNIVERSE 727

INT. SPACESHIP

Surrounded by alien soldiers pointing laser rifles at an unknown figure. His hands were up waiting for one of them to speak.

ALIEN SOLIDER 1

You are surrounded! State who you are!

The unknown figure looks up at the speaking soldier and smirks. It was JUSTIN...

JUSTIN

The name’s Justin Oras, also known as...

ALIEN SOLIDER

The Time Trickster?!

There was fear among the soldiers, a sudden explosion was heard.

ALIEN SOLDIER 1

What was that?!

ENOCH (V.O)

That was an explosion.

JUSTIN

Thank you, Enoch.

ENOCH (V.O)

Your ship is going to lose its artificial gravity. After the firing of my photon torpedo at the central mainframe of your ship. So I suggest you let my Captain go.

ALIEN SOLDIER 1

You are not in the position to negotiate!

ENOCH

Ooh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you let him go.

The artificial gravity of the ship disappears as the soldiers instantly hit the ceiling. Except for JUSTIN, his hand still up and still smirking. He was still on the standing on the ground.

ALIEN SOLDIER 1

How are you?!

JUSTIN

Gravity boots. Never leave the ship without them.

He walked off with his hands in his pocket.

ALIEN SOLDIER 1

WE WILL HAVE OUR REVENGE TIME TRICKSTER!

JUSTIN

I’ll hold you to it. Everyone says that.

JUSTIN disappears in a flash of light. Having been teleported to the bridge of The Eternity.

JUSTIN

Enoch, status report.

ENOCH

I’ve contacted the nearest Galactic Police Department. They’re sending units on their way now.

JUSTIN

Good, let’s return home.

CUT TO: UNIVERSE 528

2 DAYS BEFORE THE WEDDING

INT. EDITH’S HOUSE

She was home after a long day, reading to children, working at Maple Brews Coffee House, and now she has to plan a wedding.

EDITH

Come in!

The door slowly swings open and his head popped from the side.

NOEMI

Hey, hey!

EDITH

Hey Noemi! (She says with excitement)

NOEMI

Guess who I brought as well.

On his side was his little sister, PERIWINKLE she instantly smiled seeing EDITH

EDITH

MY BABY ANGEL! Come here!

Running into EDITH’S arms, they gave each other a hug. She rubbed her face on PERIWINKLE’S head and caressed her baby angel.

EDITH (Cont’d)

How are you, my baby angel?

PERIWINKLE

I’m good.

EDITH

That’s good to hear. I saw you at the library today with all the other kids. Did you like the story I told?

PERIWINKLE

I did! But it’s not fair, you didn’t mention me.

EDITH

Sorry my baby angel, but I was really busy today sweetie.

PERIWINKLE

I know, you and Violet are getting married.

She said the last syllable in a sing-songy voice

EDITH

You’re so adorable.

NOEMI steps into the conversation

NOEMI

How are the wedding plans?

EDITH looked at him with stress on her face.

NOEMI (Cont’d)

Stressful?

EDITH

Is it noticeable?

NOEMI

Very much.

She groans and covers her face with a pillow. NOEMI sits beside her and comforts her.

NOEMI (Cont’d)

Hey, don’t worry everything is going to be fine.

EDITH

I’m just scared you know? I’m marrying the love of my life in a couple days and I’m scared! How are you so calm about this?!

NOEMI

Because I’ve been where you are. When I married Argento, I was terrified. You’ve known me for the longest time, I’m extremely nervous. But when I’m with her, everything feels okay and better. I love Argento so much, and I know you love Violet so much as well. It’s okay to feel this way.

EDITH

You’re right... I’m terrified but I do love her... so much. (She laughed a little) I trust you, probably just freaking out over nothing.

NOEMI

That’s the spirit.

EDITH

I’m tired...

NOEMI

Well, you should get some sleep.

EDITH

But the wedding plans... I have to work on it.

NOEMI

I’ll handle them for now. You sleep, I know what you both like.

CUT TO: UNIVERSE 727

EXT. ALOHA OE

After saving the day once again, the heroic time traveler returns to his house on the planet Aloha Oe. Leaving the ship, Justin walks to his beach chairs to look at the setting sun.

JUSTIN

What a day...

Suddenly he hears the call of his name

MYSTERIOUS VOICE

Justin

It was whispered his name, turning his head to see if anyone was around. There was no one. He walked back to his house when the whisper had gotten louder near the garden. His concern was growing greatly rushing to find the source of the voice. Stepping closer to the source it was a flower.

But not just any flower, a flower from another universe.

JUSTIN

The Comet flower...

Suddenly a burst of light had shown an animal before him. Instantly recognizing the being.

JUSTIN (Cont’d)

Owl?

He was concerned, as his presence meant something big was happening.

OWL

Time Walker. A danger hath come. Destruction shall be brought. The cords of death have been strummed.

OWL vanishes then along comes to the FOX

JUSTIN

Fox?!

FOX

Time Walker, a request for your help is needed, as much as I think this will go horribly wrong.

FOX vanished as well then CAT appears.

CAT

Time Walker, someone dangerous returns. A forgotten being, his strings cut by us so long ago. We can feel him returning.

JUSTIN

Cat, I don’t know what you’re talking about?! What’s happening?!

CAT

He walks in dreams of The Savior. He shall appear on the day of strings intertwined. Love shall blossom but shall soon be crushed as he means to destroy her string and us. Save her.

JUSTIN

Edith?! Cat, what is going on?!

CAT vanishes leaving JUSTIN in a bit of confusion.

JUSTIN

I have to get back.

He reacts quickly, digging up the Comet.

CUT TO: UNIVERSE 528

INT. EDITH’S HOUSE

EDITH having fallen asleep while NOEMI helps out with the wedding plans.

CUT TO: INT. EDITH’S MIND

Within her mind, she wandered in her dream. She imagined walking through Lapis Forest. Walking with VIOLET holding hands together, happy and smiling. The skies were clear and the sun would shine.

MYSTERIOUS VOICE (V.O)

Edith Nox...

EDITH turns around, hearing the voice. Dream VIOLET noticed her stopping.

VIOLET (Dream)

What’s wrong?

EDITH

I thought I heard something.

Turning back to face her, she was gone. Everything started to feel ominous, the skies darkened and the winds began to getting rougher. A shadowy figure stood before her, laughing. Afraid, she takes a couple steps back.

MYSTERIOUS MAN

So you are the one. The Savior.

His voice was creepy, sounding raspy and rough. He stood tall, confident in stature which made him quite menacing. Drawing a sword, slowly walking toward EDITH. The forest now on ablaze in fiery destruction.

EDITH

Who are you?!

MYSTERIOUS MAN

The Savior shall beat a Beast, make peace with a Shadow, Now strings will intertwine to set me free. 

 The nightmare had frightened her enough to wake up.

INT. THE LIVING ROOM

EDITH had screamed, when she had awoken. NOEMI concerned rushed over to her side.

NOEMI

What’s wrong?!

EDITH

I had a nightmare... I with V and we were walking in the Lapis Forest. There was a man with a sword and I couldn’t see his face and then the forest was on fire. What does that mean?!

NOEMI hugs her tightly

NOEMI

It means you were having a bad dream.

He rubs her back to comfort her.

NOEMI (Cont’d)

It’s okay. It’s okay.

He repeatedly says.

CUT TO: THE CHRONAL ZONE

INT. THE ETERNITY. THE BRIDGE.

Ready for the trip to the EDITH’S Universe. The Eternity was ready to take off.

JUSTIN

All system’s up and ready Enoch?

He turned a couple knobs, twisted a few levers and pressed a couple buttons.

ENOCH

The Interdimensional Generator charged and ready to open a gateway.

Sitting back down in his Captain’s chair. He placed his hand on one last lever.

JUSTIN

We ready?

ENOCH

Ready, Captain.

JUSTIN

It’s gonna be a very, very bumpy ride.

Pulling the lever down, The Eternity blasts off instantly. A portal opens ahead and the ship charges through.

CUT TO: UNIVERSE 528 - ABRICOT

1 DAY BEFORE THE WEDDING

It was already the next day, after the nightmare she tries to take her mind off of the thought.

EXT. THE CASTLE

EDITH had walked onto the castle’s training grounds. Where VIOLET had practice sparing and teaching the other soldiers in the army. With her proficiency in ice magic and hand-to-hand combat. She performed an exercise without fail. Thereby impressing the trainees of the army.

VIOLET

Thank you, cadets. You are dismissed.

They all stood to their feet, salute and walked off. Removing her protective gear, EDITH snuck up on her, reacting quickly VIOLET grabbed on to her arm and flipped her. EDITH quicker on her feet now, she flipped and landed on her feet.

VIOLET

Honey?!

Realizing that it was her lovely girlfriend.

EDITH

Sweetie, you’re gonna have to be quicker than that to flip me.

VIOLET smiled at her and hugged her tightly. Kissed her face multiple times.

VIOLET I missed you!

EDITH

I missed you too! You’ve been so busy.

VIOLET

Sorry, honey. (She frowned) Things have been hectic lately.

EDITH

I know, you’re a General of the army and Princess of the kingdom. The most important roles in your life.

VIOLET

They are, but not as important as you. You ready for the wedding?

She asked her eagerly. EDITH gave back a smile of excitement.

EDITH

Of course! I was so tired last night! Luckily Noemi was there to help me out before I knocked out.

VIOLET

It’s a good thing he was there.

EDITH

Wanna go to Maple Brews?

VIOLET

Please?

EDITH smiles and the two venture off to Maple Brews.

CUT TO. EXT. THE IN-BETWEEN

Stuck between the walls of the multiverse, JUSTIN piloted The Eternity navigating throughout the world of white.

INT. THE ETERNITY - THE BRIDGE

ENOCH (V.O)

Captain, we seem to have a problem.

JUSTIN

What is it, Enoch?

ENOCH (V.O)

The entrance to Edith’s Universe is blocked by a magical barrier.

JUSTIN steps away from the Captain’s Seat. Looking at The Comet Flower in a pot in Captain’s room. He touches the diamond-shaped stamen as if it were a mic.

JUSTIN

Owl? Fox? Cat? I need some help here.

A projection of CAT appears.

CAT

Time Walker, have you entered our universe yet?

JUSTIN

There is a magical barrier blocking the entrance portal.

CAT

Impossible. We allowed the entrance to be open upon your arrival.

JUSTIN

Well, it’s blocked. I can’t enter.

CAT

This must be his work... it will take some time to undo his magic.

CAT’s projection vanishes leaving JUSTIN & ENOCH to wait.

CUT TO. UNIVERSE 528

INT. THE TEMPLE OF FATES - MORNING

THE DAY OF THE WEDDING

Today is the day of the wedding. A lovely ceremony being held at the Temple Of Fates. A big public event as the Princess of the kingdom has finally met someone who she truly loved. Surrounded by family and friends, and the nerve-racking view of the rest of the kingdom. EDITH was in her dressing room, the day had finally arrived. 

Her heartstrings were constantly tugged and butterflies kept flying in her stomach. She looked at herself in the mirror, noticing the little things. A gemstone embellished on her forehead. Representing her empath magic. Surrounding her head was a crown of flowers, her favorite flower; The Comet.

Her dress was a pastel green, embedded with diamonds and a sea of cherry blossoms that falling from the bodice down. She twirled around, having such a beautiful dress. A knock was heard at the door. It was her parents, ROBYN & UMI.

UMI

My baby sprout! 

She was clearly excited.

EDITH

Hi Mom! Hi Momma!

ROBYN 

Sweetheart you look amazing!

She exclaimed with her hands. Tears and smiles were on both her parent’s eyes. As the sight of seeing their beautiful daughter on her wedding day.

EDITH

Thank you, Momma!

She goes to hug them both.

UMI

I promised myself I wouldn’t cry

EDITH

Awww, Mom.

She rubs UMI’S back to comfort her. 

ROBYN

We’re both walking you down the aisle!

EDITH

I’d love that very much,

Another knock was at the door. The door swung open, NOEMI and ARGENTO peaked her head.

NOEMI & ARGENTO

Hey!

His hair was tied back and his suit all black. ARGENTO in an all-black lace dress that touched the ground with a slit in her dress. Matching their affinity with Necromancy.

EDITH

Hey you guys! You guys look amazing! You’re matching!

PERIWINKLE brushes through them and gives EDITH a big hug.

EDITH (cont’d)

Hi, my baby angel Peri!

PERIWINKLE had worn a pastel blue dress, layers upon layers of translucent silk edges frayed like feathers. With sleeves that hang off the arms like fairy wings. Her magenta hair sparkled and fashioned into a ponytail with flowers.

NOEMI

The ceremony is about to start, Peri and Argento will be waiting on your side. I’ll be waiting on Violet’s side.

The three of them leave for their places.

EDITH reacts quickly immediately rushing to make finishing touches. Her mother’s stand at the ready to take their daughter’s hands and walk it down the aisle.

CUT TO: The TEMPLE OF THE FATES. - THE WEDDING CEREMONY

The crowds filled with family and friends and heck, nearly the whole town. VIOLET stood there nervous as she waited for everything to begin. NOEMI had walked onto the altar and stood behind her.

VIOLET had worn a lacey white accented with light blue. A bodice that leaves the collarbones exposed with a dainty blue skirt, ribboning from the waist. Her bust covered by chest armor and pauldrons on both shoulders. Gauntlets up to her elbows and Armored shoes to her knees. 

VIOLET

Noemi...

NOEMI

You okay? Nervous.

VIOLET

Greatly! (She held her teeth together)

NOEMI

Oh, here we go again, you’ll be fine.

VIOLET 

But what if...

NOEMI

Edith would never do anything you’re thinking right now. Again, V you’ll be fine.

Music starts to play, The tune of a song, given to them by JUSTIN. Monday Loop - Tomppabeats begins to play. EDITH begins walking down the aisle, at the same time the lyric “This is that once in a lifetime” Slowly but surely she made her way to the altar. Seeing friends and family and townsfolk alike, smiling and seeing her move forward. EDITH had reached the altar, now face to face with VIOLET.

A ROYAL PRIEST stand in between the two of them.

ROYAL PRIEST

We are gathered here today for the union of our Princess Violet Choi and Savior Edith Nox.

The crowd cheers for the moment and falls back silent.

ROYAL PRIEST (Cont’d)

We thank The Fates for these two great heroes of our home. Coming together in this union of true love. (He looked to both EDITH & VIOLET) WIll you two face me?

They do so standing side-by-side. 

ROYAL PRIEST (Cont’d)

Violet and Edith, as the great gods hath created us so. Do you promise to make a string so strong, strengthened by the love you have for each other? Provide honesty and loyalty and bring happiness to the life you are about to enter?

EDITH & VIOLET

We do.

ROYAL PRIEST

Hold out your dominant hand.

They do so, their palms opened. EDITH’s left hand and VIOLET’s right. The ROYAL PRIEST holding a string in both hands. Place it in their palms, They close their hand and hold on the string. He waved his hand, over theirs and the string wraps around their wrists, symbolically connecting them.

ROYAL PRIEST (Cont’d)

You may now say your vows.

Looking at their hands and then into each other’s eyes. They smile, VIOLET goes first.

VIOLET

Edith, I love you. The journey I have had with you, made me realize that you were the one I wanted to be with... forever. You found me at my darkest moment when I lost Clementine... and I was so bitter and depressed. Then you came along, you shined this aura over me and it was my guide. You guided me out of my darkest place and you made me happy. And now, we’re here... on our wedding day... I promise I will protect you, fight for you... love you. Till the end of time.

EDITH visibly touched by the words of her true love. She had tears of joy in her eyes. She composes herself for a few minutes then begins to speak.

EDITH

Violet, when we first met... we were not the best of friends. Eventually, and now, we became more. You became, everything to me. Everything. The way you’re willing to go so far to protect the ones you love. 

The way you smile at me when I’m asleep in your arms. The how you show me you love me every time, I feel like I messed up. You are always there for me when I need you. I love you, Violet Choi.

VIOLET didn’t show it but she was happy, her lip trembling as she wanted to smile at her soon to be a beautiful wife. 

ROYAL PRIEST

With the power given to me by the great Fates. I grant your strings intertwined together.

His hand glowed, waving it over the tied string.

ROYAL PRIEST (Cont’d)

Let the Fates tie you together in love, harmony, and happiness. Should there be any reason they should not be together, speak now or forever hold thy peace.

There was a small silence, suddenly, rushing through the temple doors. His long coat flapped on the wind as he rushed in. Nearly out of breath, he caught everyone’s attention. It was JUSTIN.

JUSTIN 

STOP THIS WEDDING NOW!

Shock and exclaim were heard from the crowd. The confusion was everywhere, EDITH, VIOLET, & NOEMI take notice of JUSTIN’S return.

EDITH, VIOLET, NOEMI

Justin?!

Mysterious and evil laughter was heard,

MYSTERIOUS MAN (V.O)

I’m finally free!

The statues of OWL, FOX, and CAT are broken into pieces. A dark and ominous fog slowly filling the air, coming together forming a man. Tall in stature, and clad in armor. JUSTIN runs to the side of his old friends.

JUSTIN I’m too late.

EDITH, VIOLET & NOEMI look toward him with great worry.

FADE TO BLACK

END OF PART 1

TO BE CONTINUED... IN PART 2

[abalathia]

never-ending survey: esja

RULES: Repost, do not reblog. Tag 10 blogs!

tagged by @yascaret! thank you! <3 tagging @nekun-uul, @nascentflash, @s-udarshana, @lavender-hemlock, @blood-of-the-dragons, @hingan-fox, @fairwindsandblueskies, @warpstargazer, @red-hare, @wood-warder, and anyone else! feel free to use me as your tag if you brave this! ;)

BASICS.

FULL  NAME :  Esja Fiala

NICKNAME : The Violet Warder

AGE :  Appears late 20s, actual age unknown.

BIRTHDAY :   16th Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon

ETHNIC  GROUP : Viera (Veena)

NATIONALITY :  Ivalician (?)

LANGUAGE / S : Common

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION : Bisexual.

ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION : Heteromantic.

RELATIONSHIP  STATUS :  Single.

HOME  TOWN / AREA :  Skatay Mountain range.

CURRENT  HOME :  An isolated hunter’s cabin buried deep in the Shroud.

PROFESSION : Survivalist, hunter, and mercenary.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR : Naturally platinum, dyed to a beige blonde.

EYES :  A pale violet blue.

FACE : Stoic, serious, and determined yet still radiant with an underlying beauty.

LIPS : Of average size and often left natural or stained to match her traditional tribal paint.

COMPLEXION : Ivory.

BLEMISHES : None.

SCARS : Several, each a reminder of the war she fought, the Wood she protected, and the comrades lost.

TATTOOS :  A golden sunburst that spans from her ribs to her thigh.

HEIGHT :  6′3″.

WEIGHT :  Average.

BUILD :  Slim and athletic.

FEATURES :   Slightly upturned nose, full eyelashes, faint dimples, mid-length ears left thick with fur, and fingers stained a muddy brown.

ALLERGIES :  None.

USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :  Typically left natural, thicks waves parted down the middle hang to her waist. When working, she pulls it back into a messy ponytail with plaits and strands of leather. It is common to see it adorned with beads and feathers.

USUAL  FACE  LOOK :  A thick painted band across her eyes with two finger swipes beneath on either cheek. These are either in tones of sienna or sepia, and it is not common to see her without them.

USUAL  CLOTHING :   Leathers, furs, and brass jewelry. She has not taken to the more casual style commonly seen throughout Eorzea and instead sticks with her traditional attire.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S : Failure, insignificance, being forgotten.

ASPIRATION / S :  To achieve greatness and be worthy of remembrance outside the confines of her tribe.

POSITIVE  TRAITS : Determined, resourceful, confident, resilient.

NEGATIVE  TRAITS : Reckless, impatient, competitive.

MBTI : ISTJ-A (Architect)

ZODIAC :  Nymeia (Libra)

TEMPERAMENT :  Phlegmatic.

SOUL  TYPE / S :   Warrior.

ANIMALS :  Wolf.

VICE HABIT / S :   Drinking, smoking, fighting, isolation.

FAITH : Religious, no. Spiritual, absolutely. Though she tries not to insult or anger any deities.

GHOSTS ? : Yes.

AFTERLIFE ? : Eh.

REINCARNATION ? :  Eh.

ALIENS ? :  Eh...?

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : She cares not for politics, and does not burden herself with the workings of a land she will eventually leave, too.

EDUCATION  LEVEL :  Common education, but relies more heavily on experience rather than the teachings of those long dead.

FAMILY.

FATHER : Estranged.

MOTHERS :  Estranged.

SIBLINGS :  Potentially many, but she knows of none of them.

EXTENDED  FAMILY : Many. Some she was close to, some she’s never met. All estranged.

NAME MEANING / S : Fiala, the small and secluded mountain tribe she hails from that I totally made up and also means violet in czech :P.

HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ? : No.

FAVORITES.

BOOK :  Old and dusty tomes detailing the victories of the heroes of old. 

DEITY : None.

HOLIDAY :  All Saints Wake.

MONTH : October.

SEASON :  Autumn.

PLACE : Deep within the woods where only the trees may speak.

WEATHER : Hazy, rainy days.

SOUND / S:  Crackling fires and distant thunder.

SCENT / S :  Tobacco, lingering rain, damp wood.

TASTE / S :  Whiskey, spiced apples, fresh herbs.

FEEL / S :  Fur, wet grass, tree bark, rough skin.

ANIMAL / S :  Wolves, ravens, stags. (Plus the fox kit and road sparrow she calls family.)

NUMBER : 6

COLORS : Sienna, white, olive, beige, black, copper.

EXTRA.

TALENTS : Surviving, hunting, drinking grown men under the table, shit-talking, incessant flirting, and kicking your dad’s ass.

BAD  AT :  Losing, singing, dancing, cooking anything that isn’t over a campfire.

TURN  ONS : Men - rough hands, facial hair, scars, muscles, abrasive personalities, good hair. Women - soft lips, sweet voices, humorous, strong-willed, independence.

TURN  OFFS : Carelessness, stupidity, attention-seeking, ignorance. 

HOBBIES : Hunting, leatherworking, making jewelry, sketching, drinking all day long.

TROPES : Badass Teacher, Crazy Prepared, Action Girl, The Leader, To Be Lawful or Good, One of the Boys, Nature Lover, Lady of War, Guys Smash Girls Shoot, etc.

QUOTES : “Got a light?”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :   If you could write your character your way in their own movie,  what would it be called,  what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?          

A1 :  Beyond the Wood - a southern gothic film riddled with a feeling of discomfort, lurking cryptids, old gods, and one badass bun.

Q2 :   What would their soundtrack/score sound like?          

A2 :  Dark folk with eerie instrumentals and scratchy voices that make you feel both at home and like something is watching you from the woods outside your window.

Q3 :   Why did you start writing this character?          

A3 :   Esja has had many faces. She started as a warrior bun, went off the rails as a botanist, and ultimately transformed into the woman she is now. I’ve always loved southern gothic and norse themes, and I decided to cram them both together. I didn’t think it would work so well, but she’s easily my favorite thing ever.

Q4 :   What first attracted you to this character?          

A4 :  Everything. I’ve wanted a viera since I was a little kid, and I was so sad to have to wait so long to play one in FFXIV. I’d resigned myself to using mods for eternity, but bless SE for finally giving me the option. Also, who doesn’t love a strong lady bun?

Q5 :   Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 :  Her desire for infamy and immortality overshadows any craving for love, and it makes me feel for her. She’s so wrapped up in her dreams and hides behind the walls she’s built that she’ll probably never find it. It’s easy to find company for the night, but we all know that isn’t satisfying forever. I keep my fingers crossed for her, though. 

Q6 :   What do you have in common with your muse?          

A6 :   I, too, am a lone wolf who does no evil but takes no shit. But honestly, I have been pulling a lot of inspiration from Esja to apply to real life. I’ve started hiking, I want to learn how to shoot a bow and arrow, and I’ve stood up for myself a lot more since creating her. She’s my muse in every sense of the word!

Q7 :   How does  your muse feel about  you?          

A7 :   I would for sure be one of the green adventurers she mentors. Though I imagine she’d kick my ass off a cliff for whining too much. 

Q8 :   What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ?        

A8 :   I’ve only had a handful of roleplays with Esja, but she will easily have a good time with anyone willing to arm wrestle and get drunk under a full moon. If that’s your jam, hit a girl up!

Q9 :   What gives  you inspiration  to write  your muse ?        

A9 :  Vikings, norse mythology, southern gothic aesthetic, the supernatural, dense forests, folk music, and folk horror.

Q10 : How long did this take you to complete ?          

A10 : Started at 11am and worked on it off and on throughout the day. 

[ask-the-equestrians]

Hey everyone and welcome to do the first Equestrian Remake in a while. Today I deputing Sunset Shimmer! Sunset has happen to be the first Equestrian I made based on the MLP Spin-off movie/show Equestria Girls. I haven't really talk about the spin-off because I haven't really watch it (or the feature length movie for that matter.) Actually I had my issues with the spin-off as soon it was announce because of the premise and where the story take place. For the Ponies becoming Humans was an interesting concept. It allow the audience to relate more with the characters as they solve the story problems, and how they interact with other character, that's how I was inspired to make The Equestrian Models. The problem I have with Equestria Girls in my opinion that they're set up on a high school and we're stuck with the most cliche of teen dramas. Mr. Straw Man: "But Axel you dumb-ass! Of course the human spin-off is going to be in high school! The target Audience is for young and pre-teen girls after all you Brony Pervert!" Yes my insulting Straw Man viewer that doesn't represent anybody but my own insecurities, but so is the Friendship is Magic Franchise. The Ponies in FiM where betrayed being in their early to mid Twenties having to live on their own, working and running a business, and solving problems that actually affects the world they live in. I don't see how anything affect the characters in Equestria Girls Spin-off outside their high school, but the fact that Twenty-something ponies reliving their high-school life and misplace cameos in that spin-off only screams out Commercial Marketing tool. Yeah, We finally manage to Popularized a dying franchise in ways we couldn't imagine. Let humanized the ponies and keep their skin color as they are and put in a poorly writing teen drama scenario with a cliche love interest and a cookie cutter plot that's as forgettable as soon is it's watch, but we can't let this spin-off affect the cannon of the original. Nobody won't figure out that we're marketing these product to compete with similar toy maker company like the people who made Bratz and Monster High right Hasbro!? Despite my little rant about Equestria Girls, There was potential for at least one of the Original Character from that show. Sunset Shimmer is that character. While I haven't watch the Spin-off, just by with the preview and the character interaction from the first and second movie, I already got an ideal who Sunset is. The Equestrian Sunset was first made back in August 14, 2014. I didn't have any backstory or something other than a fanart for her back then, but I do have an Epic story for her now and some of that I'm going to redact to prevent spoilers from my ongoing story. Considering that Sunset in my opinion is a wasted potential that's stuck in the Equestria Girls Spin-off is a shame, so I going to take their stick and make her a more of a vital character in my developing story. Now that being say it's time that we get to learn about The Equestrian Sunset Shimmer. The Falling Prodigy: Sunset Shimmer Synopsis Sunset Shimmer was a former Student of Princess Celestia and Lady Maya Matsui who was gifted in Magic and Martial Arts. Sunset was also fairly intelligent and was adored both by you Equestrian Teacher and her Deity Sensei, until another Young Equestrian begin to outshine Sunset which led her to become increasingly jealous of her and eventually led her to leave Canterlot and be on her own ever since. The current whereabouts of Sunset Shimmer is unknown. Much of her family tides remains a mystery, but what is known is that Sunset Shimmer begin her lessons when she was very young and gain her cutie mark a year after she moved to Canterlot. Now it's time to learn a little more about Little Sunset and how she became the first child prodigy in Equestria. The Rise of the First Equestrian Prodigy Sunset Shimmer and her family moved to Canterlot after receiving an invitation for Sunset to join Princess Celestia's prestigious school of magic and let her and Lady Maya become their personal protégé. When Sunset and her family show up to the university, both Princess Celestia and Lady Maya Matsui came to greet Sunset into the school. Princess Celestia explain to Sunset that she being waiting for her for a long time and Maya and she has been looking for an Equestrian Unicorn with a rare potential that she possesses. Lady Maya walk towards Sunset and kneel down to her and tells her she is very happy she finally gets to see her and welcomes her to her new home. Lady Maya hugs Sunset and says for now on Celestia and her are going to raise her as their student and make sure she's going to her a bright future ahead of her. After taking Sunset to her room, Celestia and Lady Maya thank Sunset's family members for watching over her while she was growing up and told them they can visit her anytime they wish. As Sunset's guardians return to their home, Princess Celestia and Lady Maya smiles at each other and Celestia says to Maya we've finally might have a chance to bring Princess Luna back from her banishment with Sunset's help and the three of them can be together again along with Sunset. Maya nods and say she being dreaming for that day for over a thousand years and looking forward to raise Sunset to become the new hero of Equestria with Celestia. Both Princess Celestia and Lady Maya Matsui took turns teaching Little Sunset everything they can about magic, the history of Equestria and, other life lessons. While they were other teachers that taught Sunset the general course like math and literature, special courses in the university were giving to Princess Celestia and Lady Maya Matsui. Princess Celestia's courses specializes in Equestrian Magic, Equestrian History and Culture, and the values of Friendship in the Equestrian Society. While Lady Maya in Equestria, her courses specializes in Foreign Cultures outside of Equestria (including her own of course,) and learning Maya's native language and writing. All of her courses that Sunset participate in, she excelled in with flying colors. Celestia and Maya was very proud of Sunset achievement, and it appears that Maya's prediction of Sunset is coming true. A year later Sunset Shimmer gain her cutie mark. This was a joyful day for everyone, when Celestia and Maya figures out her cutie mark is a Sun symbol. Later that week, Lady Maya ask Sunset to come to here office so she can give her something special. Lady Maya gives Sunset a pendent that resembles her cutie mark. Maya told Sunset that this pendent was her family heirloom that's been past down to the future heiress of the family. Lady Maya held on to the pendent for years until it's rightful owner finally appears to claim it. Since the rise of the Equestrian and Pony Evolution has happened a thousand years ago, A replica of the Pendent was also made for the pony as well. With this pendent Sunset is now recognized as the future leader of her family and a new hope for Equestria. Lady Maya hugs Sunset and congratulate her for her new milestone in her life and gave the Young Sunset the nickname Yūhi. Since that fateful day, Sunset became even closer to Lady Maya and wants to learn more about her. One morning Sunset woke up and saw Lady Maya practicing her Martial Art as a morning workout. Sunset got a glimpse for Maya's workout and was mesmerize by her movements. Maya saw Sunset watching her and was a little embarrass at first but, ask if Sunset want to join her in her workout sometimes and it makes a good form of meditation for her too. After a while Martial Arts has become a curricular in her course in which Sunset has succeed tremendously. Has Sunset grew, she became more of a promise student and is admired by both Princess Celestia and Lady Maya Matsui... Until another young Unicorn Equestrian began to catch Celestia's and Maya's attention to her instead. A New Rising Star Has Been Spotted As the years passes as during her school days, Sunset Shimmer was very content with living in the university with The Princess and her Sensei, but one day while heading to her class she's see Princess Celestia and Lady Maya Matsui talking to another student in the hallway, she didn't think much of it at first since talking to other students personally is normal for them, but the way that the two of them was talking to the student what's caught her attention. Princess Celestia was smiling intensely while Lady Maya and The Student was holding hands and gazing at each other until Celestia tells the student that she needs to get ready for her next class. As the Student left to go to her class she turn around at Maya and smiles back at her a more time. Sunset hid herself behind the wall as the two teachers heads back to their classroom but over hearing them talking each other about the student. They say that the student is exactly what they've been looking for and her academic level succeeded much higher than her peers and even surpassing Sunset's level. Sunset heads to her class shock and upset. Sunset later heads to the library and did some research in the student archives and learn that the student's name is Twilight Sparkle. Twilight has been another prodigy of her own right and gain her cutie mark a year younger than when Sunset earn hers, and her magic abilities has even surpass Sunset and it's been got a rare phenomenon that only appears once every several hundred years. What Sunset discovered about Twilight that really shocked her is Twilight's Cutie Mark. Sunset recognized that Twilight's cutie mark resembles The Star of Harmony, which was a core symbol of "The Elements of Harmony," but was believed to be only a legend at the time. Sunset thought to herself if someone like Twilight suddenly appeared in Equestria to become some sort of legendary hero, then what was her purpose be here in this school and being raise by Celestia and Maya. She needs to get an answer from at least one of them before doing anything about it. After dinner Sunset confronted Lady Maya and asked her about the Student Twilight Sparkle. Lady Maya told Sunset that she is an exceptional student who as a very unique talent look her and she should talk to her if she has the chance. Sunset interrupted Lady Maya and tells her that she seen the two of them in the hallway holding hands, and giving her a look that she never give anyone else before, not even to Sunset. Sunset press on and asked what is Twilight to her, and what's Lady Maya's true relationship with her and how they met. Lady Maya went silent for a while and ask Sunset not to get angry at her. Lady Maya reveals that she known about Twilight when she was very young. She seen a great potential inside of her just like she did with Sunset, and help unlock that potential when they first met at the Sun Rising Festival. Maya's prediction came into fruition when Twilight took her test and gain her cutie mark. It's was the second time that the two of them met at that hall so Lady Maya was thrilled to see that she became just a talent young lady. Sunset lower her head in tears and anger and ask was is she to Lady Maya. Maya looked at her in confuse and ask what does she mean by that. Sunset explains that she and Princess Celestia raised her for all these years, moved her away from her old town and her family because they saw something special inside of her. Sunset told Maya that she was happy with them, she learn so much from them and there was nothing in this world she wouldn't do for them because how much she loves them and all of this meant nothing now because of her new love interest! Lady Maya told Sunset that she needs to stop speaking such non-sense and she speaking out of line. Maya try to explain there more to does that she doesn't understand yet, but Sunset left in tears. Maya started to pursue her but stop and decided that it was best to talk to Sunset tomorrow so she can explain herself. Sunset returned to her room in tears after talking to Lady Maya. Sunset can no longer bare to look at them anymore without seeing Twilight with them, so she decided that night to leave the university and live on her own. She took her clothes her money and her family's pendents and left Canterlot. The next Day Lady Maya ran towards Princess Celestia in tears and told Celestia the Sunset is gone. She's not and her room and she asked the staff and students if they seen her but nobody has. Lady Maya apologize to Celestia and told her that Sunset knew about Twilight and she got jealous over her, but she left last night without her explain anything to her. Maya felt guilty that she did do more to help her and now she's gone. Princess Celestia hugs the panicking Maya and tells her that it's going to be okay and she'll do everything in her power to bring Sunset back with them. Celestia orders her troops to locate Sunset Shimmer and bring her back home. A few hours later Lady Maya investigates Sunset's room and notice that she took her pendents with her. Maya also finds a scroll that teaches how an Equestrian Unicorn can transport not only in different places around the world. Knowing that it may be impossible track down Sunset's whereabouts with this magic, Lady Maya Sit on Sunset's bed and hugs here pillow and cried for the rest of the day. Conclusion: Sunset Current State: After Several years of searching Celestia and Maya hasn't found Sunset Shimmer and the search for her has came to a halt when Maya's Homeland was under attack by the Demon King Lord Axel Doi. While Sunset direct Whereabouts remains a mystery as people believe that found someone and pony that looks like Sunset walking through different towns in Equestria. Is a very good chance that Sunset Shimmer knew about the fate of her former sensei Lady Maya and she became a different being known as Maya Doi, as well as Twilight Sparkle becoming an Alicorn Princess which may raise her animosity towards her and her teachers even more. Sunset feels that her own path of becoming an Alicorn has been railroaded by Twilight, but she also knows that the current Maya is not too fun with Princess Celestia and hopefully she might join her to take revenge against Princess Celestia and Twilight Sparkle, if she hasn't fell in love with Twilight first. So here the Long Story with the Equestrian Sunset Shimmer. I'm looking for to make a lot of artwork with her and hopefully a story arc that will reveal more secrets about Sunset and her family but well see what happens in the future. Until then I hope you enjoy this segment. Thanks for reading! ~Axel Doi I have upload a song which will be Sunset Shimmer's Main Theme! All with you Piss Crowns Are Trebled The Lunar Eclipse in Tapastic The Lunar Eclipse Act II Hit me up on Twitter: @AxelDoi and Tumblr: Ask the Equestrians for updates or you want to chat. I'm trying to more active there you know. The Lunar Eclipse ACT I The Lunar Eclipse ACT II The Lunar Eclipse ACT III Software used: Daz Studio 4.11 Pro, Adobe Photoshop CC 2019, Iray

[tackletofset]

About O.

(( Long story short ))

I have been approached by Osiris.

It’s been going on for three years (starting around November – December 2015)

He’s made it clear that he wanted me through signs and dreams (if you ever see my posts on ‘#the god’ tag)

But even on December 2015 in one of my dreams, Set showed signs of disapproval of me saying yes to him. The reason is unknown, and strangely I never asked either(?). (Chances are O has plans for me which Set didn’t agree with, or he’s just possessive. Or something else. [Disclaimer: I know that there are people who works with both, or interact with both were both parties are ok. This only applies to me personally] ).

Honestly I thought O would just shrug and leave when I didn’t accept him the first time (I have said no to other deities before). I didn’t – I’ve never thought that it would go on for three years (this was before I started hearing people say that he has the patience to play the long game), and now it’s time to finally set things clear.

To be completely honest, it would be a lie to say that I wasn’t interested.

O captivated me in an almost completely different way that Set did.

Set is fun, friendly, outgoing, warm, loud, informal most of the time, and he’s cool and make jokes and stuffs. He’s the kind of guy who befriends everybody, popular (though he wasn’t in the ancient times, you couldn’t deny that Set is one of the NTR who has the most modern followers), the jock type kind of guy.

While O is silent. Calm and composed. He’s very elegant, dignified. Extravagant. A lot of kingly vibes from him. Graceful, poised. So aristocratic. I get nervous whenever I sensed his presence. And not in a bad way, it’s the kind of nervous you get by meeting someone very…. Well let’s just say you’re standing in front of Queen Elizabeth II. You’d want to be on your best behavior with her.

So during those three years I kept trying to find excuses to hang with O. Such as KDE ( andddd never got him once for 3 years straight hahaha), Wep Ronpet and stuffs, including shamelessly bromance-shipping him and Set, giving him a little more attention and including him in my projects bit by bit. But I never gave him a formal ‘yes’.

There are times where I felt like I’m betraying Set for it.

(That’s why I’d never openly talk about this before, and why I only refer to O as ‘the god’)

(Idk if some will find this a bit excessive, but yes I’m very involved with Set to the extent that I feel bad for corresponding to a deity while knowing he’s not Ok)

But as time passes by it’s getting even harder to ignore and I’m sure Set knows, too.

And I must make a decision.

I consulted with a fellow Set kid (whose main deity is also Set) so that they could see where I’m coming from, and a follower of Osiris, so I could get a glimpse from O’s side.

(Big, big thank you for @theheartroad and @epithetsandepiphanies for helping me out so far)

And so have come into a conclusion: I will open myself to communicate with Osiris.

In one condition:

It’ll be baby steps. I’ll listen to what he has to say but nothing will affect the relationship I’ve built with Set so far. I am a Setian, first and foremost. Set’s words goes first, Set’s wishes goes first, and he’d always be #1 in the pecking order (this also serves as a reassurance for Set).

So. Osiris, with all due respect, I guess that’ll be fine with you…?

Congratulations, it’s a yes.

Beware of nicknames and memes because I tend to use a lot of that.

Welcome to my practice.

[raendown]

Pairing: TobiramaIruka Word count: 1236 Soulmate au: The one where you earn matching marks only after getting to know each other for a while and proving you are compatible

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI link in the blog header!

Chapter 170: Tobirama/Iruka

Were he given a choice beforehand Iruka was pretty sure he would have declined the opportunity and insisted that he very much did not belong in the past, that he was too used to the conveniences of the future. It wasn’t until he was thrown back there in an accident involving a child playing with an unknown seal that he was forced to realize he was much more of an old soul than he had ever been willing to admit. Being stuck in the past was kind of worth it just for the not-yet-filthy onsens and the beautiful unadulterated landscapes still unsettled.

Of course, those weren’t the only advantages. There were also dozens of young minds in a fresh new academy with a curricular system that still needed cementing. As soon as the Shodaime Hokage vetted his story that he was from the future he was sent straight to Senju Tobirama, the very one who had invented the academy, his own personal hero, and was told he would be working with the man closely to determine what had worked about the way it was in the future and how it could be improved.

Actually working alongside Tobirama was about as close to a dream come true as Iruka had ever experienced. While he certainly could not be described as the warmest person ever, Tobirama embodied all of the qualities Iruka most enjoyed in a partner of any sort: pragmatic, intelligent, punctual, and surprisingly fond of children under that tough exterior. His tendency to overlook the limits of a normal untrained child under the age of ten was well balanced out by Iruka’s own habit of coddling them passed the age when he should be stepping back to let them make their own mistakes. It was a partnership they both learned from.

More than that, it became a partnership that grew in to a friendship. Even after they had hammered out the academy curriculum in its final form they still continued to meet for lunch occasionally and took long walks together after work on a frequent basis. Iruka listened with a sympathetic ear to whatever stupidity to other man was suffering through at the hands of the admin staff and Tobirama listened with a barely there smile as Iruka gushed about his students, the new prospective ones and the old ones he would miss from the future. Several months went by before he managed to stop himself from trembling with anticipation every morning just for getting to work in close quarters with such a venerated man but once they were able to treat each other as nothing more than fellow human beings they got along famously.

And then came the day when Iruka woke one morning to find a new mark over the skin of his right pectoral, a mark that had never been there before but he recognized immediately. It resembled a pool of water upon which floated a single leaf. Iruka spent ten minutes admiring it before it truly hit him what this meant: he had met his soulmate. They had met and spent time together and the universe had judged them a good enough match to reveal the connection to them.

There were very few people the mark had enough potential to be meant for. Since being thrown back in time he hadn’t made a lot of close friends and spent significant amounts of time with even fewer. Most of his free time he chose to spent with Tobirama and while he absolutely would be thrilled to be matched to the man, Iruka didn’t want to get his hopes up too much. What were the chances he would be matched to him own personal hero?

What were the chances he would be lucky enough to match with the person he had slowly developed a crush on over the past few months? He had trouble believing someone like him could be Tobirama’s type.

He found himself nervous when they met for lunch that day, almost more nervous than when they had first met and he’d felt like he was speaking to a minor deity. Tobirama seemed more quiet than usual as well, oddly enough, so conversation wasn’t exactly flowing while they both sipped at their ramen broth, heads up in the clouds.

“Did you…leave anyone behind when you left your proper time?” Tobirama kept his eyes on his meal when he spoke. Iruka scoffed.

“Well, I had a lot of students. I’m sure they miss me.”

“No partner? No…soulmate?”

“Ah. Um. Funny you should mention soulmates, actually.” Iruka laughed nervously when Tobirama shot him a curious look. “Before I left, I never found my soulmate – in the future I mean – but just this morning I woke up and there it was, my soul mark. I just thought you might find it interesting, the implications that perhaps I was always meant to come back to the past or maybe the implications that some people never find their soulmate because they never had a chance, not being born at the right time. Either one is sort of terrifying to think about, you know? A set time loop or an uncaring universe that separates pairs so callously.”

When he realized he was rambling Iruka cut himself off with a sheepish smile and returned to his noodles, embarrassed in the long silence that followed. Spending so much time with this man had expanded his intellectual horizons and given him a chance to study more than just what his students might be able to comprehend.

Unfortunately it had the side effect of making his rambling habits so much worse.

“You found your mark today?” Tobirama asked finally. “Just this morning? For the first time?”

“Mhm, on my chest. It’s really pretty, actually.”

“I see. Does it, perchance, look anything like this one that I, too, found only this morning?” Tobirama waited until Iruka jerked his head up with shock before carefully pulling his shirt to one side. It was indeed the same mark.

Later, Iruka would be mortified that the only thing he could think of to say was, “Holy crap.”

“Ah, that’s poor language for a shaper of young minds, sensei.” Tobirama was smiling, that special tiny smile more genuine than any other expression he ever made.

“S-sorry! I just – wow! I don’t know what to say!” He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off that small patch of pale chest, either.

“You could say seven o’clock, perhaps.”

“Wait, what?”

Tobirama settled his clothing back in to place, much to Iruka’s disappointment. “I need to return to work soon but I should like to pick you up for dinner at seven if you are willing.”

“Like a date!?”

“Yes. Like a date.” He was smiling a little bigger now, almost unheard of. Iruka’s poor heart was nearly fluttering out of his chest but he managed not to fall off his stool or anything else that would make him look even more ridiculous than usual.

“It’s, ah, sure. Yeah. Seven o’clock it is.”

Staring at the man with what was probably a very foolish expression, Iruka thought that if he ever found the ancestor of the child that sent him back in time, he might have to give them something to hold on to until that boy was born, a gift of thanks for something he hadn’t even done yet. It was just an accident but it given him everything.

[dontshootmespence]

Supernatural AU: Episode 4 - Devoid

Part 2

It took a full two days of little food, few stops for gas and even less sleep for them to make it to Hardin, Montana. “Cops, nap, research,” Dean said, pulling off the exit ramp. 

“No, research, cops, nap,” Bobbie replied. They needed to get ahead of whatever this was.

Sam barely even opened his eyes in the backseat, but he was insistent. “Both wrong. We’re all about to pass out. Let’s grab a motel room and power nap for 30 or 40 minutes, then we can go to the cops and gather the information we need so the research we do doesn’t get influenced in any way. It makes the most sense…and I’m too tired for this shit.”

She wanted to fight it, but Sam was right. They were all exhausted – physically and emotionally. No matter how mad she was at their father, if he felt there was a job here, there probably was – and she wanted to get to it. But they’d booked it here so fast that the need for sleep was outweighing everything else, so the second Dean saw a motel in Hardin he pulled into a parking lot, they gave their fake credit cards in for a room and crapped out. It was nearly an hour and a half later than Bobbie woke up in a cold sweat.

She screamed so loud that Sam and Dean shot up from the bed and the couch. “What the hell was that?” Sam asked.

Dean replied while his sister tried to catch a breath. “Nightmare. She always has one of two. One is about the night mom died and the other she won’t tell me.”

Sam glanced her way expectantly. “You always tell us you want us to be open about this kind of shit and then you keep that inside?”

Bobbie wiped her forehead, the sweat cool to the touch and clammy. “I’ll make you a deal, Sammy. You tell me what’s been keeping you up at night lately, and give me more than ‘nightmares about Jessica’ and I’ll give you a peek into my fucked up brain.”

Without missing a beat, Sam spat out that he blamed himself for what happened with Jess – not that he could’ve stopped it considering they didn’t know what it was – but he did have the dreams and said nothing and had accompanied Dean and herself, leaving Jessica all alone. “It was not your fault and you know it.”

“And undoubtedly whatever is going on in your head isn’t your fault either, but you’re blaming yourself, huh?” Sam was determined to get something out of her, even though opening himself up so candidly had taken even him off guard. “So what are you blaming yourself for Bobbie?”

“Nothing,” she replied, grabbing a glass of water and gulping it down in three or four big sips. “Yet. The other dream I have, besides Mom, is always about you two.”

“What?” Dean’s head left his hands and turned toward her. “What about us?”

“It’s always the same. I’m not getting deep into it now because we have work to do, but it always involves you two fighting in the Impala, me mediating and then you Dean, crashing the car. It spins out and we all end up in a lake. You’re both stuck in your seatbelts and I can’t get you out. I live. You die. There’s a voice telling me ‘it’s all your fault, you’ve failed me’ and then I wake up,” she said quickly, her voice shaking with each word. She didn’t want to recount this again. She didn’t want to think about it. With her eyes open, neither Dean nor Sammy could reach out for her as they took their last breath – not if she had anything to say about it. “Let’s get going, okay?”

“Bobbie, you have to-“ Sam started, but she cut him off with the flick of her hand.

“There’s nothing I can do about it, so let’s stop talking about it and focus on some people that need our help.”

Dean wasn’t about to let it go and neither was Sam, but they knew better than to test her right now.  “Okay, let’s go.”

-

After introducing themselves to the local police as Agents Acer, Vanir and Laird, Dean asked Chief Goldstein if he could tell them anything about the child suicides in the area. “Anything you can tell us would be helpful.”

“Is this even in your jurisdiction?” He asked.

“Believe it or not yes,” Sam replied quickly. “The FBI sometimes conducts what we call an equivocal death investigation, which basically means the case has lingering questions. We can end up classifying the deaths as homicides, suicides, natural causes, accidents or something unknown. This fits that perfectly considering the kids were all so young and so well adjusted.”

With his question answered, Goldstein pulled out the files on the three children that had died over the course of the past six weeks. “Mia Thomas was seven and drowned in a lake. Her parents claim she was a fantastic swimmer. Nathan Cope was eight years old and found hanging in his closet and Otis Wickens jumped out the window of his doctor’s office building.”

Sam shivered at the image of the latest child jumping out of a building. What could possibly have been so horrible that he would not only take his life, but take it in such a way?

“And none of them had any issues at school? No bullies? Family life okay?” Bobbie questioned. The most likely reason for child suicide would’ve been bullying if she had to put money on it. Either that or issues at home. If it wasn’t that, something supernatural was her next best guess. “Nothing out of the ordinary?”

He repeated himself, saying nothing was wrong with any of the children. Otis had gone first, he was also eight. Nathan next and Mia last. “Otis and Nathan were in the same class,” he said. “So maybe you want to start there.”

“Okay, thanks Chief,” Dean said. “We’ll keep you updated.”

Outside the station, Bobbie, Dean and Sam decided to head over to the Wickens’ house first to see if they could interview the grieving parents. The loss of a child had to be the scariest thing Bobbie could think of. “So what do we think this is?” Sam asked. “If it is something supernatural.”

“Maybe a witch,” Dean said. “The parents are being targeted by way of their kids.”

Bobbie was off in her own world in Baby’s passenger seat. “Possibly, but wouldn’t a witch make it look like an accident or natural so it wouldn’t raise any questions?”

“Could be a dumb witch?” Dean replied, grasping at straws. “The fact that it’s suicide is what you’re hung up on, right?”

“Yea, it’s just…” Her head was pounding, flashes from her ever-present nightmare sporadically running in and out of her brain. “Something’s up.”

-

Stepping up to the Wickens’ home was like stepping toward an open grave. At a closed grave, someone could leave flowers, say a few words, apologize for wrongdoings if there were anyway, but the death was done, smoothed over like the grass that grew on the ground above. At an open grave, death wasn’t real yet, it was like there was still a ray of hope in the air, but a ray of hope that could never actually be fulfilled. It was still too raw to be fully comprehended. It was a ray of hope purely for the sake of pain. The family’s next door neighbors, the entire street seemed like it was at a standstill so that the Wickens could grieve and eventually shovel the dirt into the grave, allowing them all to ‘get back to normal.’ “Let me,” Bobbie said, knocking lightly on the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Wickens? I’m Agent Acer, these are Vanir and Laird. We’re from the FBI.”

“You’re here about Otis?” His mother said, a tear falling from the corner of her eye. “Do we have to go over this again?”

Bobbie was about to reply when Dean chimed in. “Mrs. Wickens, we’re here because the same thing happened to two other children in the area. We’re trying to see if there’s a connection.” His voice was soft and Bobbie could see that he was looking at her in his periphery. “There might be something that could explain why things happened the way they did. Give you some kind of relief.”

A hint of gratitude could be seen, but nothing would bring back her child and that was all she wanted. “I don’t think that’s possible. But please, come in.”

Mr. Wickens came to join her on the couch, fingers intertwined and clinging to each other like they were alone in an open sea. “Can you tell us exactly what happened?” Sam started. “Not at the doctor’s office,” he clarified. “Beforehand. How did his personality change? When did it change?”

“Otis was the happiest boy in the world,” Mr. Wickens began. “He loved soccer and science. Was convinced he was going to be the world’s first professional soccer playing scientist when he got older so he could do it all and then his mood turned sour.”

“When?” Dean asked.

“About three weeks ago?”

Over the next three weeks Otis got worse and worse until that day at the doctor’s office. “Did anything out of the ordinary happen around the time the mood change happened?” Bobbie asked, catching a glimpse of a picture of the happy family and hating how anyone, any deity, could let something so awful happen to another.

“For a couple of weeks he had nightmares,” his father answered. “About a fire in the house. He never really had nightmares, but that was it in terms of anything out of the ordinary.”

They asked a few more questions, getting it from the source that nothing was happening in school or at home. Brian and Tina Wickens were happily married. They’d had no issues at either of their jobs, so money was secure and Otis had been excelling in school, both intellectually and socially. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Wickens,” Sam said before they made their way out.

Back in the Impala, Dean asked if they had any ideas. “Because I’m more confused than ever.”

“Me too,” Sam replied.

Bobbie had no idea either. “We still have too little information. Let’s interview the Thomas’ and the Cope family first.”

-

Back at the room later that night, the three siblings poured over the information they had. “All three kids were popular, smart, happy kids, their moods went south and then they ended it all,” Dean said exasperatedly as he paced the floor in front of the two beds. It was taking everything in him not to grab another beer, but he needed to think straight right now. “At seven and eight years old. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“What if this isn’t supernatural?” Sam asked.

Of course it was a possibility, but what else could it be? “It’s not homicide because none of them had any other DNA on them other then their own,” Bobbie started, glancing at the papers that Sam had been able to find by hacking the county’s medical system. “The Thomas girl’s drowning could be considered an accident, save for the fact that the parents insist she was a great swimmer. But accidents wouldn’t account for either of the boys’ deaths, because the manners in which they died were far too deliberate. Natural causes could mean it’s some kind of medical issue, but if that were the case, it’s pretty likely that more children would be affected. That leaves us with suicide and unknown cause of death.”

Sam shook his head, his hands clasped in front of his face. “So either, these kids were hiding feelings so tortured that there parents didn’t know and then suffered alone until they killed themselves, or it’s something supernatural that causes suicidal thoughts?”

Dean and Bobbie nodded sadly. Silence hung in the air for a moment until Sam’s eyes went wide. “Wait…”

“What is it?” Dean watched his brother sprint across the room to the bag that held John’s journal. “You think Dad has the answer in there?”

“Possibly,” he said, licking the tips of his fingers as he quickly flipped through the pages. “Here! ‘Bobby and Rufus came across one once apparently, but I still never have. I’m glad I haven’t because I’m not positive I’d know how to kill it.’”

When he turned the journal toward them, the older Winchesters saw a picture of a chimera-looking thing – a monster made up of various animals’ body parts. “A chimera?” Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. “Kind of, but not exactly. A Baku.”

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[arcanalogue]

So an odd thing happened to me several times now and i do not believe in coincidences. When i have asked the cards a question, i had a certain card in my mind that could answer it. I haven’t thought about, but it was more like an intuitive answer: it just popped out in my mind. When i have picked the card, the exact same card i have thought about came out! What can it mean??

The Querent goes on to write: “I even asked the cards one time what card could describe them the best and The Hermit came in my mind and when i picked the card it was The Hermit… it’s odd, my significator card is 8 Strength and they chose to be 9 The Hermit… Anyway this thing happened to basic spreads too. Many times… Thank you so for your time and knowledge!“

[I keep forgetting there’s a character limit on inbox questions. If you need more space to ask your question, email me at arcanalogue@gmail.com, I’ll make sure the whole thing gets posted!]

Hi Querent! Congrats on discovering your very own Spooky Tarot Mystery! I’m glad to hear you are vibing with your deck to this extent. 

First and foremost, what it means is that your practice has evolved. When we’re first setting out, we encounter all kinds of readings and card-drawings that seem strangely loaded, and we rarely have an inkling of what they mean – or can be certain they mean anything at all. 

As one’s practice advances, their relationship with the cards becomes more like… well, any relationship, really! There is a kind of dance to it, in which you’re reaching out into the unknown in order to have these conversations, and sometimes you can feel something reaching back. 

But what is it? And can we trust it? Is it safe? Is it real, or are we like Narcissus, being seduced by our own reflection?

Questions like these are why I tend to describe the source as divined wisdom as “the unknown,” instead of attributing it to a specific entity or deity. People are welcome to draw their own conclusions, but as a teacher I think this is the most responsible answer, as well as the most honest. 

I’ll never forget my own first Spooky Tarot Mystery, though I’ll spare you the details. Suffice to say I did the same thing you did: I reached out to a tarot teacher/practitioner whose opinion I trusted and asked whether they thought it meant anything significant. 

The answer I got was a bit more gruff, along the lines of “Don’t be silly, that’s preposterous!” At the time I found the vehemence of that response sort of hilariously inappropriate, but I have to admit that it broke the spell of mystery that had been winding me in its tentacles, and allowed me to laugh at myself.

And that brings me to the other part of my answer: past a certain level of attainment in the Spooky Arts, you have to continually include these kinds checks and balances. You need to be able to remain sensitive enough to vibe with the spooky and numinous, but you also have to be able to stand outside that experience and appreciate how absurd and potentially meaningless it is to anyone but us.

This is how we maintain our tether to the human world, planting our flag at the crossroads of intersecting realities, keeping ourselves accessible to others walking the same path. As readers, I think this it’s extremely important to protect this faculty of our wisdom. 

It’s not just for others – the secrets you uncover as a mystical explorer give you all the tools and incentive you need to crawl MILES up your own ass, perhaps never to return. With alarming speed, everything you read, see, feel, or think begins to seem like THE ULTIMATE TRUTH manifesting before you, pointing toward an ultimate reality, a purity of practice, as well as one true understanding of the universe. 

I can’t tell you how many magicians, artists, witches, and religious types I’ve watched this happen to. Some of them drift back down to earth eventually, especially in the face of hardships resulting from these delusions, which can be indistinguishable from (or aggravated by) mental illness. Others need their attainments be real SO BADLY that they just never come back down, and they end up surrounding themselves with the kind of folks who’ll buy into them unquestioningly, usually in exchange for mutual support in their own preposterous delusions. 

I try to stay clear of judgment in such cases. This is just one kind of path humans tread, one kind of story, but it’s not the one for me, and I’d prefer not to encourage these tendencies in others. 

There may come a time in your life when you can dwell with the numinous 24/7, when that umbilicus anchoring you to Earth finally snaps and falls away on its own. As a teacher, I don’t think anything good can come from hastening that process, and it’s problematic that we end up aggrandizing those whose awareness sets them the furthest apart from earthly consensual reality, who can no longer meaningfully connect with others. 

Because you have to be able to connect with someone in order to serve them, otherwise you just end up expecting everyone to serve you.  

This is why holy people occupy the top and the bottom of that spectrum I created a while back that helps gauge the usefulness of uncanny advice. Everyone wants to find the fastest, most authentic, most direct path to this level of attainment, to harness these powers (or at least appear to) as early in life as possible. Their reasons may be completely altruistic: they want to alleviate suffering, help others find peace, cure themselves of dysfunction, face death with no fears. Or perhaps they feel like an outsider in this world, and are looking for a sense of peace and acceptance in the vast unknown.

Well, the unknown isn’t an inherently dangerous place, but nor is it inherently safe. So when you’re exploring the back-alleys of your own consciousness, or cultivating practices that help you peek behind the veil that hangs between worlds, you have to build in the kinds of protections and fail-safes that keep you from falling further down the rabbit-hole than you’re altogether ready for. 

Along the way, we are thrown nuggets that really do serve a purpose for others, as well as ourselves. The fact that The Hermit came up in a question asking the deck about its own nature is fascinating to me, Querent. I’m glad that spark of wisdom managed to leap all the way over to me, by way of your question. 

There’s a fascinating precedent for asking the oracle questions about itself. Carl Jung once famously performed an I Ching reading asking the oracle to reveal itself to him in a similar way, and the reply was really interesting  – it’s included in the edition of the I Ching that he wrote an introduction for). 

The Hermit embodies the very idea of lifelong spiritual practice, in a way that underscores the importance of sharing wisdom, leaving markers for other aspirants to follow – “For the gate is narrow and the way is hard, that leads to life, and those who find it are few.”

That quote from the Book of Matthew kicks off the chapter about The Hermit in a book called Meditations on the Tarot: A Journey into Christian Hermeticism. The author (who published the book anonymously) has this to say about our lantern-swinging hero:  

“For it is the venerable and mysterious Hermit who was master of the most intimate and most cherished dreams of my youth, as moreover he is the master of dreams for all youth in every country, who are enamoured by the call to seek the narrow gate and the hard way to the Divine.”

Everything the Hermit symbolizes, we work toward in our relationship with the cards. We pursue the unknown, and wherever we find ourselves, we put up a lantern that lets others know how far we made it. Thus, even the most dedicated Hermit never becomes absorbed enough in his own Spooky Mysteries to become truly solipsistic. Nor does he mistake his tiny light for that of The Sun. He is simply one data point – one Hermit out of many, all of whom set out on their own journeys, reaching vastly different conclusions. 

Ultimately, your mind is the only tool you have to work with, Querent. By engaging with the unknown, you sharpen it. Whatever you do with that keen edge remains entirely up to you – no one else can help you tend it… or protect you from it. 

Meanwhile, whatever sparks may be struck in the process of that sharpening, I hope you’ll keep sharing them with querents of your own, and with the rest of us. 

Thanks for your question!

Have a tarot reading request or tarot-related question for Arcanalogue? Ask here. Tips accepted (but not required) via Venmo, @arcanalogue. Or support my Patreon? I’d love that.