#Cape Wrath Trail

[ladylaviniya]

Okay, if we confessing things about Apollo (Blood of Zeus), I have to tell someone my fantasy bc it burns my inside. I want him to fu*k me in his original height, when he is so tall and strong and big. When Zeus hugged Heron's mom in the Underworld it was so good to see the height difference or when Apollo was standing beside Heron. It's still a manageable size but to think about the stretch, the pain and pleasure combo and him being super excited that you would do this for him. Like Gods usually downsize themselves when having sex with a mortal but in this case his lover would express this wish to have him in his original size and it would turn out in this way is more comfortable for him. Maybe the lover is his priestess or something and this happens in one of his temples. (sorry for the confession, I have just seen your post about Blood of Zeus Apollo) This is of course not a request but if it interest you I would be curious of your take on this story if you would ever wanna write this or anything else for Apollo.

I love that you dare to write dominant/submissive or master/slave relationship. We need a super dark Apollo fic where his priestess is super submissive and wants to serve him well so this is why she asks him bc she wants him to be comfortable and he just goes with it.

This is so embarrassing please if this is not your taste just ignore it.

Blood Of Zeus: Apollo’s Pythia

Story Synopsis: You serve the god Apollo since he has threatened to bring a plague upon the people of Delphi.

Pairing: Apollo X Priestess!reader

Story Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Vaginal sex, Humiliation, Size kink, size difference. Mentions of Loss of Virginity, Loss of Innocence, Ancient Greek God Mythology, Mentions of Animal Sacrifice, Master/Slave dynamic. Mostly Porn without Plot.

Authors Notes: Inspired by the song Still Don’t Know My Name by Labrinth. This was requested by @annievvv7 and I am considering writing a prologue and another chapter for when the reader is on Olympus. A Pythia is what they called the priestess at the oracle of Delphi.

The sounds of grunting and sucking of wet flesh echoed the marble walls of his temple.

“You’re thinking too much, my sweet little pythia,” The God of the sun whispered into your neck, his bright glowing hair tickled and blanketed your face and chest. His warm, large palm trailed down your soft belly and dipped between your trembling thighs. His agile fingers discovered your sensitive clit and rubbed gentle circles. His touch was so light and heavenly.

“Relax for me, your god.” he cooed.

He had you nude and spread open for him, your white chiton toga was pooled in a pile at the foot of his altar slab along with his glittering cape.

The stone beneath your back was stained in dark crimson from the countless goats that had been sacrificed in his name. At his command, you were at his mercy, vulnerable and obedient to his will. His presence alone was intimidating and his gaze pierced through your flesh as you were exposed, awaiting his words and commands. You were priestess of the temple of Apollo, you were raised to serve his will...even if it meant forgoing your vows of purity.

Apollo was correct, your mind continued to float away from his attentions. He saw it as strictly a challenge to bring back your focus to him and what he was doing to you. His two fingers, long and thick, carefully pressed inside your body.

It had been a month ago when you made the deal with the divine being. His threat was fearsome and you would not test him. It was a difficult decision, you had decided to save the people of Delphi by becoming his soul bounded slave...because he had promised if you denied him...you and the people of Delphi would face his wrath that would wrought a horrible plague.

You hadn’t known at the time of the deal that he had wanted your body in such a intimate and humiliating way. Upon your first time, Apollo had been domineering in inflicting his power...it could have been worse- you did bleed and you did try to fight him off, but he let you live and he granted you a merciful pleasure you had never known existed when you finally submitted to him. When he had come to you, you were a delicate virgin...now you were his desperate whore.

Your religion was strict with abstinence, you had even taken a sacred oath for Apollo as his representing pythia. Never did you truly believe he would be the one to take your purity. He said it was his rite to fuck you if not any other man. There was no questioning a gods rite.

Apollo’s fingers curled, brushing that spot inside you that made your vision blur, and it tore you from your thoughts as you arched into his palm. You made a pathetic whine and gurgle.

“Oh blessed pythia, you honour me,” he purred mockingly, his golden irises flashing as he looked down at your sweaty body. He drew his fingers out, holding them to the light to see how they gleamed before he licked them clean with his devilish tongue. Your lips parted and chest still heaved catching your breath. He smirked and bent down to steal your mouth in a hungry kiss, the taste of yourself on his lips made your core throb.

You pushed against his shoulders and gasped, “My lord, please lay down upon your temple floor...”

His brows lifted, “Making demands of me? Your god?” he still smirked, “Little pythia, I could punish you for such insolence.”

But he wouldn’t...he liked playing too much with you, especially when you were forced to grant the people their future among the oracle practice. The absolutely naughty things he would say to you, knowing you'd find it hard to answer the poor soul who merely wanted to know their fortune. How he would truly humiliate you and make you feel breathless by the day was done.

Your face was dishevelled in total lust, licking your lips, you pushed his shoulders again and felt his hands lift you by the waist carefully down from the altar until your bare feet touched the cold floor.

He crouched down and sat on the ground. His face was levelled to yours. You were by no means graceful but it did not stop his desire for you. You stood astride his thighs, your palms on his shoulder attempted to push him back. He let you.

Laying nearly flat on the ground, he balanced his upper back on his elbow and forearms. He tilted his head at you. You had to sit on his legs and pelvis to perform, or else the strain of your human legs would hurt more than the pleasure you’d hope to gain and provide.

You mewled desperately, reaching between you both to take purchase of his intimate member. It hung like a fucking horse, harden like a stone pillars rising up. A soft carpet of golden hair covered the base of his masculine appendage. His skin was still as gloriously golden and dark beneath his waist tunic kilt. You wondered if he had bathed himself nude in the pure light of the sizzling sun. His hard cock jumped in your hand, the veins pulsing against your palm. The God was huge, larger than any human man you had ever seen bathing in the springs.

And for some dumb reason you had insisted he be like this, his natural height and size instead of shifting into an average sized man. He was your god and you were his priestess, his pythia. You wanted to keep him pleased.

You reached between your thighs and rub the wetness there to bring it up and wrap around his cock. He gasped, amused and curious. Did you truly intend to take him at this size?

His large hands bent around your waist, digging into the skin of your soft bottom.

“Careful,” he murmured, “You greedy thing.”

You leaned forward, lining his thick bulb with your small opening, admiring the glitter in his golden gaze he held on you. His fingers ran up and down your spine encouragingly. When you rolled your hips forward you scrunched your face up preparing for the almighty stretch.

Your lips parted wide open, a horrible groan bellied from your mouth as you sank yourself down every inch of his unhuman length and thickness. You tried not to think about the possibility of it being the same size as your own forearm.

A low moan rumbled through his entire body that made your insides jump in delight and tingle. Apollo was happy to let you have this control, but he never took his eyes off you, never shut them. He knew the resentment still in your heart, the aching darkness for revenge. Of course if you tried to strangle him, stab him, even slit his throat he would not die, it would just hurt and perhaps piss him off.

You keened and whimpered, your body trembled as your lower lips pressed down to his soft pubic fuzz. For a few moments you were totally still. Tears streamed down your cheeks. He was impressed. His lips parted. You were admirable, trying so hard.

He moved his hands around. One thumb pressed to your sweet nipple and another to your clit, rubbing circles against them both. You gasped and felt your walls clamp down around him. He coaxed you through the pain, blooming inside you a new pleasure.

Apollo’s starved eyes travelled over your entire body, his eyes trailing low to the land where you both connected as he waited for you to move.

Carefully with your hands shaking on his chest, you lifted a little with a hiss, to roll down and sit perfectly again on his cock, letting him slide deep inside. You both groaned. It was exactly what you needed. The pressure of his cock, the feeling of being flooded with his cock so deep and entirely you couldn’t think of anything else but of your god creating this divine match.

You rode him very slowly. He let you lead at first until he grabbed your waist and jerked his hips up.

Submissively, you braced your hands on his strong glowing chest, feeling the smooth and tight muscles beneath your fingers, you rocked your hips back onto him, hunting the ultimate pleasure that was so quickly approaching, giving him everything you had. His eyes roamed from your face and your breasts, watching the way they moved as you practically bounced on his mighty rod. When he could feel your body growing weak and exhausted, he held you tight against him and began to thrust his hips up, slamming into you.

“That’s it, little pythia.”

He bowed his head, taking your tit and nipple into his mouth. He bit down, sending a shockwave through me, bringing your senses back momentarily. You gasped out loudly, your walls clenching. Your nails dug into his biceps. He sucked the nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirled and he hummed with delight at the sound of your noises. His fingers rubbed harder into your clit. Your soft whimpers began begging as he pushed harder up into you. Your lips pressed just above his ear while he sucked.

“You enjoy this my sweet slave?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer. Your sweet tears fell onto his shoulder.

“Yes my lord Apollo,” you whimpered, your toes curled and your fingernails dug up into his long blonde mane. You could feel the tsunami beginning to creep up your spine, your body surrendered to him.

“Then show me! Release your praise,” Apollo ordered, his voice a growl in your ear. It was too great. The bold bright light exploded behind your eyes. You screamed into the side of his neck, sobbing as the wave of desire broke the band.

Your muscles strangled his pulsing cock. Limply you sagged against his body while he steadied his thrusts and dragged the last few out, thrusting hard down once as he flooded your womb with his golden cum. His lips brushed softly against your cheek. He was slow and kind as he lifted you up and off of his cock. Your insides felt bruised.

He held you close to his chest, reaching out for his cape. It was like a wave of glittering white and gold. Like shining white sand, warm and comforting on your wet skin.

He covered your body in it, before lowering you to lay on the marble floor.

He eventually pulled out, and you could feel his seed start to leak out down your thighs and drip onto the cold floor. Your lips parted and your legs closed, embarrassed. He chuckled and kissed your salty sweat drenched forehead.

“You look so beautiful with my cum inside you.”

Apollo’s finger gathered the escaping slickness and pushed it back into your spent body, causing another shaky moan to slip from your lips.

“Best not to waste it.”

You trembled and boldly reached out to him. Tendrils of his long mane were combed through your fingers. So soft and smooth. He smelt like the morning, sweet dew and the warm springs. He cradled you in the crook of his arm, his skin was a great warmth along with his cape. His hand petted your body, trailing his finger tips up and down as you combed his hair softly. Come the rising sun, he would be gone again. He would speak to you daily through the oracle bowl, but you would not feel his powerful body until his next visit.

“Will I see you again?” You croaked, “Next month? Will your duties allow it my lord?”

Apollo was calm. Spent. He was pleased and relaxed. His cock had softened. His palm rested on your belly.

“No.”

Your face fell slightly. You couldn’t believe it but you knew you would miss him, his teasing touch.

“You will see me everyday...” he purred and kissed your cheek, “I have decided, you will return with me to Olympus.”

Your mouth fell open, your eyes widened. You didn’t know what to say.

“But my duties? I am to read the oracle and-”

His brows lifted, his hand pressed your hands above your head, his other finger pointed at your chest squarely.

“Your duties are to serve me, or did you forget the oath you made to me so quickly?”

With a fluttering heart and regretful fear you shook your head, “No, no my lord master. It’s just...what will I be if not your pythia?”

“My slave...my bride maybe...”

He bent down and pressed his mouth to yours before you could say anything further. He redressed himself as you sat up, stunned in silence.

“Br-bride?”

He smirked, and held out his hand to you, “Come with me my dear slave.”

You took his hand and he carried you to his summoned chariot. You would reach the city of the gods and we’d the great Apollo. God of the Sun.

[holylulusworld]

Beta in heart

Summary: You’ve got a secret.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Beta!Reader (fem)

Side pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega! Cassie Robinson

Warnings: angst, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, lies, jealousy, unrequited feelings, Dean being an ass, rut

Now, … 

We all lie sometimes. Right? Little white lies to make the person next to you feel more comfortable, or to protect yourself.

In your case, it was the latter. 

Maybe you did it to not be treated like someone’s property. Maybe to protect yourself from getting hurt. 

In the end, it didn’t matter. Not anymore. 

He found out the truth and is furious. Even worse, he tries to break down the door to get inside your room.

His rut won’t let him think straight. If he manages to break your door, he’ll claim you in the heat of the moment. Just like you always feared…

A few days earlier, Cape Girardeau, Missouri

“I wanted to thank you again for helping me,” Cassie guiltily looks at you. 

It’s the first time you met her, but the second time for Sam and Dean helping her with a case. According to what Sam told you, she’s usually bubbly and self-confident. 

But the moment you stepped into her living room, following Sam and Dean to tell her that the wrath had been defeated, she changed. Her eyes drop to the ground, and you frown as you seem to be the reason for her behavior.

“It was nothing, really,” you hastily say before one of the brothers can tell her so. “Dean’s friends are our friends. And it’s our job to hunt down the evil.”

“Well…I…” She trails off, glancing at Dean. “It wasn’t nothing. All of you risked your lives.” 

Sam clears his throat, jerking his head toward the door. “I’ll get the books,” he says. “Can you lend me a hand, Y/N?”

“Sure,” you wrinkle your forehead but follow Sam outside. You know Cassie is an old friend of Dean and maybe he wants to have some time alone with her.

Sam and you left Cassie’s place to get a few hours of sleep. It’s a long drive back to your current hideout, and you don’t want to sleep in the car again.

Dean didn’t come back. Of course, he didn’t. You’re not foolish enough to believe he’d not take the chance and get laid.

You knew the moment Cassie came back into the picture that he’d jumped the chance to have a tête-à-tête with the pretty brunette goddess. 

Years ago, you would’ve spent the night curled into a ball, the pillow tear-stained because of your broken heart. Now it’s just a dull pain you can suppress and ignore.

You accepted a long time ago that Dean is not interested in you in a romantic way. He sees the sister in you they never had. 

Dean came back in the morning, smiling and joking while you tried to hide your sour mood. It’s not his fault that you are in love with the cocky alpha for years. 

You told him about your feelings during a drunk escapade. Dean didn’t remember in the morning, and you acted like you didn’t pour your heart out.

“Cassie invited all of us for lunch,” he casually says. As if you can’t see the hickeys on his neck, or still smell her on him. “What do you say? Sammy? Sweetheart?”

That nickname makes you want to throw up. It sounds like he tries to mock you using it after he fucked some other omega. 

Again, you tell yourself it’s not his fault you fell for him. It’s yours for not telling him how you feel sooner, or while you are sober.

“Fine by me. I’m hungry, and free food is free food,” you casually say while you struggle to keep the sadness out of your voice. “She’s nice.”

“Yeah, she is,” he dreamily says, smiling dopily, breaking your heart even more as he tells you that he wants to come back more often from now on.

“Dean said you are beta, and that you are strong and smart,” Cassie awkwardly looks at you. She stiffly points to the couch, inviting you to sit with her. Dean and Sam wanted to check on another case one town away and you are left with the omega Dean chose over you. “So—uh…you hunt with the boys.”

“For a few years,” you shrug and try to ignore that you can smell Dean on her. He must’ve done more than help her wash the dishes. You shudder and scrunch up your nose.

“What’s wrong with you?” She cocks her head and watches you squirm on the sofa. “Y/N? Are you sick?”

You make a retching noise, concerning her even more. “I’m fine. It’s just…nothing…forget it.” You shake your head.

“Shit,” Cassie exclaims. “You can smell Dean on me. Right? That’s the reason you act like you are about to puke on my carpet. Does he know?”

Your heart drops. She cannot tell Dean. He’ll get mad and chase you away if he ever finds out about your true nature. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Only omegas can smell an alpha,” she softly says and places her hand on your knee. “You are hiding your nature from him, I assume.”

“I-no…”

“Why didn’t you tell him that you are an omega? Why lie to him? If you see him as your alpha…” She sighs deeply as you still refuse to admit that you are not a beta. “We both know that you feel more than friendship for him.”

“If you have an ounce of decency and a heart, you won’t tell him, “You get up from your seat. “You fucked him without asking if I’m his mate. So, you owe me.”

It’s not fair to call Cassie out on sleeping with Dean, but you’ve got no choice. She can’t tell him what she found out. And you will make sure of it.

“She doesn’t want to see me again, Y/N! What did you say to Cassie!” Dean is furious. After your little talk with Cassie, she decided it’s best to make sure that you and Dean finally talk about the elephant in the room.

“I don’t know what you are talking about!”

“She said you are hiding things from me, and that you have feelings for me! I thought we talked about catching feelings. We both agreed on never talking about what you told me that night.”

“You remember?” You shake your head in disbelief. “All this time I believed you were oblivious to my feelings. But you knew all along.”

“You’re beta and we can never be together.”

“What if I was omega? Would my presentation change things between us?” It’s time to be brave and talk to Dean. 

“It doesn’t matter if you are an omega or not. Your presentation wouldn't change a thing. We are friends and should keep it that way.”

“Oh, okay,” you nod and tell yourself again that you are over your crush on the hunter. “Good to know. You should call Cassie and tell her we talked shit out.”

Dean watches you storm off. He sighs and shakes his head. “We can’t ruin our friendship.”

Dean followed your advice and called Cassie. Only for her to turn him down once again.

“Omega? No,” Dean shakes his head. Cassie tried to keep your true nature a secret, but she spilled the truth when Dean tried to kiss her. “Why are you saying these things? Do you want me to leave? Is it that?”

“I want you to talk to your friend! She’s hiding her true nature because of you and your friendship. I think she’s in love with you. You should’ve seen the way she reacted to your scent on my skin.”

Dean opens his mouth. He tries to say something, but then he realizes that Cassie must’ve told him the truth. “My scent?” Dean shakes his head. “That’s impossible. Only omegas can scent an alpha.”

“Exactly,” she softly says. “Dean, as long as you’ve got an omega yearning for you around, we can’t be more than friends.”

Dean slams the door to the bunker shut. He can’t believe Cassie broke things up over a misunderstanding. You can’t be an omega.  

“Where is Y/N?” he asks, glaring in Sam’s direction. Dean is close to losing his composure and has no patience left. “I need to talk to her.”

“She texted me. I think she’s at the bar,” Sam wrinkles his forehead. Something seems to be off with you and his brother. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’ll be at the bar.”

“O-kay. I’ll be here, reading one of the books I bought on our way back. Call me if you need help.”

Watching his brother storm off Sam wonders what happened between you and his brother.

“Do you ever think, whoa, I should jump into my car and just ride into the sunset?” You grumble as Donnie the bartender refills your glass.

“Sometimes,” he shrugs. “I like my job, and this town is nice. People tip me well so, it’s not very often.”

“Hmm…” you nod slowly. “I fucked things up between me and a good friend. Maybe he’ll hate me now.”

“Speaking of said man,” Donnie jerks his head toward the door. “He looks mad. What did you do?”

“Y/N, what are you—” Dean stops in his tracks. He dips his head, and looks you up and down before he takes a step toward you. He stops again, sniffing in your direction. “No. This can’t be.”

“Dean, what are you doing here? I thought you wanted to talk to Cassie.”

“What did you do?” Dean grabs your arm, making you wince as he forgets about his strength.

“Let me go, Dean. You are hurting me,” you wiggle in his tight grip. “Dean!” 

“I can scent you,” he growls. “Why did you hide that you’re an omega? Huh? You hide your nature only to reveal who you really are right when I meet Cassie again.”

“I hate being weak and vulnerable during my heats. And I don’t want anyone to believe I’m a pathetic omega who’s needy all the time and wants to nest. I didn’t want you to see a liability in me!”

You break out of Dean’s grip and run out of the bar. He needs a moment, looking at Donnie before he storms out of the bar to chase after you.

Now, …

Dean came back to the bunker a few hours after you left the bar, his rut in full swing. When Sam tried to stop him from getting to you, he knocked his brother out.

“Open the fucking door or I’ll break it down,” Dean warns one last time. “I mean it, Y/N! OPEN IT!”

He kicks the door again. This time the lock gives in, and the door creaks open. You hide under your bed, hoping Dean will calm down before he does something he’ll regret…

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[ghostkingart]

The Wrath of Sleep - Sleeptober 2024 Day 4 - Prompt "Wrath"

word count: 734

content warning: implied/referenced self harm

author's note: I tried something different in terms of perspective in this one because of its personal nature. I hope you enjoy.

I’ve been afraid to sleep. In the Dreamworld, She is always listening. I fear she might visit me if I allow myself to rest.

Days upon days without sleep have turned me into little more than a zombie. Stumbling about, fog in my mind, it feels as though my head is filled with cotton. I can’t think. But I also cannot sleep.

There’s a chill in the air, a cool breeze coming in through the open window and racing out the open door of my bedroom. Sitting at my desk, I battle fiercely my need for rest. I fear I cannot keep going like this, but… I fear Her more.

I shiver and glance out the window. The stars above twinkle eerily, the full moon shines brightly, casting long shadows across the floor. I think I see Her figure in the dark clouds. I wince, blink a few times, and She is gone.

Another shiver runs down my spine. I turn back towards my notebook. Only a few hours until dawn, for when the sun rises, I am safe.

The scribbling of my pen is a repetitive, soothing sound. I refuse to let it lull me to sleep. The scribbling grows erratic, my body moves against its own will, drawing out shapes I cannot see. When I finally drop the pen, I must catch a breath. I blink in the dim light, but I still cannot make out what I have drawn. I turn the page and start over. The scribbling is repetitive and soothing.

You have forsaken me.

I stand in the dark forest. The trees are so high and the foliage so thick they create a black dome overhead, concealing the moon and the stars. Thick mist rolls across the moss covered forest floor.

I cannot speak. The voice echoing in my head will soon gain a form. She wears a veil that conceals Her nonexistent features, a faceless apparition that dawns a long black cape, further obscuring any identifiable characteristics from view. She seems to glide forward, Her feet never touching the ground.

I want to step back but I am frozen.

You forget yourself, She says.

“I only thought…” I trail off, mortified to speak the truth. She tilts her head. Patience is not one of Her virtues. I swallow. The truth would do me no good at this time. I’d better apologize for my transgression. “I never meant to abandon you. I’m sorry.”

A deal with me is not easily broken. A chuckle echoes through my mind, though the figure before me remains motionless. Some might say such a thing is impossible.

“I know,” I say and my voice betrays me.

Then, why!?

Her disembodied voice raises in volume and my head feels like it might explode. I cover my ears but I know there is no escaping the sound.

Your duty, Vessel! You have forsaken it!

I fall to my knees before Her. Somehow, it always ends that way. “I’m sorry.”

Your apology is meaningless. Have I not given you all? Everything you wished for, in the palm of your hand? You disrespect me, Vessel. You will suffer for it.

I suffer for Her daily regardless. I couldn’t possibly raise this as an argument lest She get even more enraged. I fear Her wrath. I fear Her.

“I won’t disappoint you again,” I say, lifting my gaze towards the veil, behind which a face should be… or might be.

You won’t. Her words are no reassurance, rather a threat.

I begin to shake. I was a fool to think I could ever be free of Her. I was a fool to think I might escape her design.

She doesn’t move, but I feel it, an invisible hand caresses my cheek in an almost comforting manner.

My dearest Vessel. You know it is better off this way. You know what’s at stake, you have so much to lose. It doesn’t have to be that way. You need only do what I ask.

“Anything,” I say weakly.

Cold lips press a gentle kiss to my forehead. I love you.

“I love you too,” I push the words out, insincere. She can surely tell, but I know She does not truly care for my love.

When I wake, I am standing in front of my mirror. Crimson rivulets run down my cut up arms. Once again, I have succumbed to Her.

[spiritualviolation]

okay while i’m here, i was thinking about that one post about how q!phil isn’t going to take q!forever’s imprisoning attempts on him lightly so i wrote a very disorganised thing here

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

philza isn’t brumin. forever fails to see otherwise.

sure, they may look extremely identical, but that’s about where the similarities pretty much end. forever may see his former lover in phil’s eyes, but he fail to see his own reflection in them; that to phil, he’s still a stranger to him even if he was kind enough to lend a boat to him during his first night.

philza isn’t brumin. he still fails to realize that even as he declares his love for him, even as he plots to put phil in prison if he still continues to refuse it. just because he uncannily shares an appearance with a man he intimately used to know, it’s not going to be the same.

phil isn’t brumin. forever’s biggest mistake is thinking otherwise.

phil doesn’t share the same stories as brumin. tales of a cold, ruthless empire doesn’t escape the whole world, but when they talk about it, they always remember the crowned pig who proudly bears his bloodied cape, that facing him on the opposite side only meant certain doom. they always neglect to mention the black-winged angel that trails right after him, and it is on his tail that devastation and destruction is much more certain to follow. the shivers of his impact leaves far more ruination than his ally does.

perhaps there’s a reason they don’t mention him as often.

people often think the reason why he’s regaled as the angel of death was because of his impressive nature to survive on one single life for so long, but that was not the only reason.

of course, not many know the correlation between the mild caretaker living on top of the walls and the angel of death, but many do know that philza is a fierce protector. not a single tale has insinuated that the angel has betrayed or would ever betray his closest ally, but when he himself is betrayed, the magnitude of his retribution is unspeakable.

regardless, many know to not cross the angel of death.

many would not know to not cross philza minecraft either. he isn’t afraid to take revenge in unsavoury ways if you were to ever hurt his children, he is always paranoid and at the ready to protect them if ever they were in danger. and were you to rip him away from them, he will do whatever it takes to get back to them.

it may be easy to imprison him, but they’ll need a lot more effort to keep him in there, because if he escapes only once, he’ll never go back in. once he feels justified in getting back at them, he’ll bite back in the hardest of ways until he feels satisfied. he’ll claw his way out if he has to, and he’d rather break his nails to break the bars before he ever considers breaking under the whims of forced love.

they’ll not just incur the wrath of a fighter, but if you even dare to threaten his children...

angel of death or not, they’ll be incurring the much more dangerous wrath of a father.

[cosmica-galaxy]

Headcanons for what the Aditor, Phobos, Tricky, and Sheriff would do if they’re kid was in danger? (Before the kid has powers- they’re completely defenseless. Maybe it would happen while the parents were distracted/preoccupied and some sudden disaster happens?)

Auditor: - This scenario would probably happen at one of the AAHW bases if it ever got raided by Hank Wimbleton. - His instinct would be to locate his child. Search on every camera feed, question agents, and remember through his memory on who they were with last. Once his child has been found, the Auditor goes on a full sprint to get there as quick as possible. - Their child would most likely be with Torture, who would put his life on the line to protect the little employer, and that would be where he finds them. Hiding nearby while Torture is chasing down and trying to deal with Hank. - The employer would waste no time in grabbing his child and sinking into the ground with them to get them to safety. Once the child is safe, Audi goes into full protective dad mode and will go to take care of Hank personally for getting too close to his child. - Fire flies, swords clash, and a smoldering hatred burns in the employers eyes for the dissenter that continues to break Nevada, the realm that his child would grow up to rule, into more and more fractures. He will give everything to make sure that his child has a world to grow up in. Even if it means killing Hank with his bare hands. Phobos: - Should any emergency occur, the Director is instantly abandoning his position and going to where he knows his child is. - If any rouge or unwanted individuals are present in the private sector of the science tower, he will slay them with his sword without question. Even if they are allies. Wrong place, wrong time. Simple. - If he does arrive into the room where his child is and finds unwanted/non-guard entities in there, he won't hesitate to defend his baby. He'll rip and tear until the interlopers are no more and his youngling is safe once again. - Until the danger passes, the child will spend the entire time wrapped up in his coat and cape, as close to their father as they can be. Where Phobos knows they will certainly be the safest. Tricky: - You would have to be incredibly stupid or incredibly brave to try and go into Tricky's territory while he has little babies that need protecting. - The father is vicious and relentless. If you aren't his mate, you'll pretty much be killed on sight. No bandit, zed, or even defenseless passerby are safe from his non-discriminatory wrath. - Don't even THINK you can sneak up on him or his younglings. He has an improbability drive and the corrupted brain of a brilliant scientist in his head. He WILL know and he WILL kill you. - AFTER he's done killing you, he's definitely going to feed your body to his little babies to 'get some use out of you'. Sheriff: - Sheriff almost becomes a totally different person when his baby is put in danger. The cowardly cowboy that most grunts know that he is disappears and a raging pissed off Texan is forced into it's place. - Shoot now, talk later mentality. If a zed outbreak happens in his sector where his child is present, he won't stop until he personally deals with every last bootlicker that crawls up from the ground. - His change in personality is...shocking to his men. It's like there's something powerful that's lurking around in his body and it only comes out when his baby is threatened. - His kills even get more vicious, with saws, crowbars, ANYTHING he can get his hands on becoming a lethal weapon. The scene of Sheriff panting while covered in zed blood is an image that is now burned into the minds of all members of MERC. - He only begins to calm down once his kid is safely in his arms and is being carried to a new location where it's safer for them. Like a storm over a Texan desert, it's powerful and terrifying...but eventually passes. Leaving a trail of destruction in it's wake.

[yoshiintheweb]

yoshi yoshi yoshi i know i am late but Please i need a wolf Joel. or woth Joel. Joel of any kind in these desperate times

The Cursing || Wonders of The Hills

Accompanying (almost) Double Drabble under the cut.

The Great Fire of Village

He left the Village in flames. Chaos and screams of terror as the lives were burning before one's eyes were a perfect distraction. In the panic and rush of the fight with an element, anyone rarely paid attention to the actions of one Man. It was all he needed. Only one bag was putting weight onto his shoulder. With his loyal dog by his side he stood in the forest. It was chilling and empty. All sounds swollen by the cracking and yelling carried by the wind. A dead forest, on the day of his death. An only fitting farewell. 

Unknowingly for him, a Knight in armor black as obsidian and cape red as blood followed his trail. No good deed ever happened to those who desert the army of The Red King, and the Man wasn’t just a common knight either. Once an ally now looking with hostility he pursued the chase. The confrontation that followed was heated yet left both of them unharmed. The Man fleeing into the dark forest. The Knight turned back, bolting to help the villagers and to report the encounter to his beloved liege. 

Even if unharmed that night, the Man soon taste the wrath of the overruler of this land, as a curse was placed on his mortal spirit. One so cruel for a man who weeped for freedom, as his own body became a prison, as a Man changed into a Beast.

[theworldthatweliveinishorrifying]

"Disgraceful Love" (Part - 1)

"The Etruscan Kingdom was a beautiful place situated in the lap of nature. It was a serene place ruled by King Magnus and his wife Queen Edith. Magnus was a great warrior, who had fought many wars and won every single one until the war against the Land of Zarath. It is believed that the war was so dreadful that Magnus couldn't see the bloodshed and decided to enter a peace treaty with the Prince of Zarath by Betrothing his daughter Princess Liora." I closed the book and glanced at the mirror in front of me, then at my two little maids.

"How terrible it must be for Princess Liora," remarked Sancha as she gently combed my hair. She seemed to feel deeply for the princess.

"Well, I heard that the prince of Zarath was madly in love with Princess Liora. He attacked Etruscan. He could've asked for her hand! Why such bloodshed?" Layla said, adorning my hair with flowers.

"Because Magnus had arranged Liora's wedding to someone she didn't like, Liora loved Levi, but she was forcefully married to a King's bastard," I said, trying to control my emotions. It's hard for me to stay quiet when people start making theories.

They looked at me in a concerned manner but quickly returned to their work.

I don't want people to dismiss Liora and Levi's love. It was pure, unrequited, but genuine. Even after their death, people still talk about it. It's been years since that happened.

"How about I tell you the exact story of their love? We still have time before the ball," I suggested with a smile. They nodded enthusiastically.

Let me tell you the tale of a Love as deep as ocean's abyss's as high as the stars in night sky and as pure as the first rain.

"Disgraceful Love"

It was during one of those days that Liora would slip away from the palace, skipping her lessons to ride on her beloved horse, whom she affectionately named Made.

Riding a horse and feeling the breeze while surrounded by greenery always seemed to calm her mind.

The grand halls of the palace would get filled with the sounds of hurried footsteps and frantic whispers.

The princess had slipped away once more, leaving a trail of chaos in her wake. The guards, usually stoic and composed, now stood in a line, heads bowed as the captain berated them for their failure. “How could you let this happen again?” he thundered, his voice reverberating off the marble walls. “She slipped right under your noses!”

In the servants’ quarters, the maids exchanged anxious glances, their hands trembling as they went about their tasks. They knew the king’s wrath would not be limited to the guards alone. The head maid, Aura , a stern woman with a heart of gold, tried to calm them, but her own worry was evident in the tightness of her lips.

The king himself paced the throne room, his face a mask of fury. “This is the second time this month!” he roared, slamming his fist onto the armrest of his throne. “She must be found immediately!” His advisors stood at a respectful distance, nodding in agreement but offering no solutions.

Meanwhile, in the stables, the princess’s knight, Levi, prepared his horse, his frustration palpable. He had been through this chase before and knew it would not be easy. “Stupid woman” he muttered under his breath, tightening the saddle, "She did it on purpose” He mounted his horse, A sigh escaped his lips, his signature cape hanging his shoulder as he went after her.

"Oi, stop at once!" Levi shouted as he got closer and closer to her horse. Liora looked back, grinning as she spotted Levi sprinting behind her. Instead of stopping, she increased her pace, making her way towards the river.

The river was her escape, a place where she could be herself. A place where her status didn’t matter, and a place that welcomed her as its own.

Liora looked back once as again to check how close Levi was getting, but to her surprise he was not following her. Nobody was chasing her.

she thought of stopping for a moment but she destination was too close to stop.

"He better not show up in front of me," she said as she rode towards the river. And as she predicted, Levi suddenly showed up surprising both Liora and Made.

"Get off the horse," he commanded as he dismounted his own horse. When Levi commands, you ought to listen, so she did. He was glaring at her for her recklessness.

"You are getting fast, Captain" she grinned walking towards him. It is surely scary as hell to walk casually after committing a mistake in front of Levi.

"Tsk, This is the second time"

"I know, I'm sorry." she tried to control her smile, trying to look guilty : a Pathetic attempt.

"You don't look sorry"

"How about a "It's okay, Your Highness" ?" she walked around him, trying to ease the tension.

"It appears that you're interested in adding an extra two hours of combat training."

"NO please anything but that. I'm sorrryyyyyy okay? but shouldn't you be more polite towards me? I'm the princess!"

"I don't care, You are being anything but a princess. Now get your ass moving, you have created a mess in the palace. I had to leave my work to find you."

"Aww what work are you talking about? cleaning..hah"

"I get one day off and you ruin it. You did on purpose, didn't you?"

"Mmmm ~ maybe ?"she giggled, climbing her horse.

He sighed, then mounted his horse. Despite his fatigue, his gaze softened as he looked at her.

[hriobzagelthewanderer]

OTHERWORLDLY AFFAIRS BUREAU

INCIDENT REPORT FORM

DATE: Thursday, April of 1569 B.C.E.

TIME: Roughly 9am local time

LOCATION OF INCIDENT:

The 'Isle' of Atlantis, Pre-Destruction and Submergence.

NAMES OF PERSONS INVOLVED:

-Myself, in a former iterative cycle of incarnation, a then-nameless descendant of the Forest Spirit Humbaba. -'The Master', then known as 'Gorgos'. -Apophis, a.k.a. Apep, the Serpent of Chaos of Egypt.

DESCRIPTION OF INCIDENT:

Please answer the following questions in detail:

1. How did the incident occur?

I had decided to visit Atlantis, introduce myself, get to know the people there and try to become a Patron for them (at the time, many Islandic City-States had Patron Spirits/Dieties and were creating terribly successful mutually-beneficial dynamics at the time, especially Melquart and Phonecia), only to discover another spirit had decided to try and consume every last soul on the landmass. Our Conflict that ensued as I tried to prevent them from 'feasting' angered a nearby traveling deity, who instead started rampaging, leading to the massive casualties and sinking of the entire landmass.

2. Who or what was responsible for the incident?

Gorgos, in trying to consume every last living soul, and Apophis, in their ensuing rampage leading to the loss of life and land infamous as the 'Sinking of Atlantis'.

3. Did any supernatural Entities, such as ghosts or unicorns, witness the incident?

Other than the three magical entities listed above including myself, the only remaining witnesses to my knowledge would be the lingering ghosts of the victims of that day, bound to the now-submerged city. That said, I have not been able to confirm any such spirits personally to this day.

4. Was any magical or enchanted objects involved in the incident? If yes, please specify.

Not to my Knowledge at this time.

5. Did any of the witnesses or victims have any pre-existing medical or psychological conditions that may have contributed to the incident?

Unknown but probably for at least a small portion of the many human lives lost. Unknown but suspected for Apophis himself given nature of rampage.

6. Was there any use of time-travel or inter-dimensional portals that may have caused the incident?

Not to my Knowledge at this time.

7. Were there any witnesses who were under the influence of any magical or mind-altering substances at the time of the incident?

Not to my Knowledge at this time.

8. Were there any extraterrestrial beings involved in the incident?

Not to my Knowledge at this time.

9. Was the incident related to any prophecies or ancient myths?

No prophecies to my Knowledge accounted for the sinking of the landmass. However, said event has since become myth itself and persisted to modern times.

10. Was anyone wearing a cape at the time of the incident? If yes, please describe the cape in detail.

At said time, Gorgos wore a thick hooded cloak eternally soaked with brine that trailed down to his ankles, and I wore a cloak made of melded vines and leaves that also included a hood and trailed down to my shins. I cannot determine if the customary Togas and similar garb of that time and place would constitute a 'cape' by Bureau standards of classification, but if so total cape count was in the tens of thousands potentially.

DETAILS OF DAMAGE:

Please provide the following information:

1 (A). What was the extent of the damage caused by the incident?

An entire landmass in the Atlantic, just beyond the Straight of Gibraltar, and all buildings, people, flora, and fauna upon it were subject to godly levels of wrath (see: Apophis) and collectively lost to the depths of the (Atlantic) Ocean. I was unable at that time to confirm nor deny reports of Tsunami or Earthquakes causing damage throughout the Mediterranean as far as the Nile Delta in the wake of the primary destruction of the incident.

2 (B). Were any ancient artifacts or treasures destroyed or damaged? If yes, please specify.

Arguably, the entire City(-State) of Atlantis was considered an artifact or treasure in and of itself, comparable as a metropolis well before the time of true cities and an architectural marvel collectively able to dwarf the Library of Alexandria or the Great Wall of China.

3 (C). Did the incident cause any disruptions to the natural order of the universe or any other planes of existence?

Not to my Knowledge at this time.

4 (D). Were any of the witnesses or victims harmed during the incident? If yes, please provide details.

As stated above, any (known) remaining witnesses beyond the two other involved individuals and myself would be victims of the event themselves, as lingering dead spirits haunting the remains of their now-submerged homes.

ACTION TAKEN:

Please provide the following information:

1. What action was taken immediately after the incident occurred?

All three remaining parties parted in the wake of the submergence and 'loss' of Atlantis, myself included. Threats were made towards Gorgos, leading to a ceasefire concerning innocents on land, but no further communication was attempted or possible with Apophis at that time.

2. Were any emergency response teams called to the scene? If yes, please specify.

None were able to make it on time.

3. Was any magical or supernatural intervention required to mitigate the damage caused by the incident?

Attempts were made throughout the incident, primarily by myself, to halt the attacks on the City-State and its people. However, I was only able to find success in stopping one of the two. While this was able to prevent a self-proclaimed Sea Demon from consuming all the hundreds of thousands of souls thereof, It ultimately still cost them both their lives and their homes as I was unable to intervene against Apophis as well.

4. Was anyone punished or reprimanded for their role in the incident? If yes, please provide details. [LEAVE BLANK FOR O.A.B PERSONEL]

5. Was any follow-up action required after the initial response to the incident? If yes, please specify.

As mentioned prior, ultimatums were given to Gorgos concerning threatening (read: promising to consume my soul as well as all those lost that day) comments made at the end of the incident. Such has helped to prevent repeat incidents but was ultimately unable to prevent later villification and blame to be given to Apophis as rumors spread about the incident through neighboring territories at the time.

ADDITIONAL COMMENTS:

Please provide any additional information that may be relevant to this incident.

I don't know the full story concerning Apophis, but something felt off with their actions that day, as if they were forced or reacting to some PSTD-like trigger. Suggest careful investigation and/or offers of aid to be given if at all possible.

Also Gorgos is an Asshole. Not an official complaint, but a mark of warning for those required to deal with them, especially in person.

[globalresourcesvn]

Danh sách thiết bị của Cape Wrath Trail

Đây là danh sách thiết bị của tôi trên Đường mòn Cape Wrath để đi bộ trên đường mòn vào tháng Tư. Tôi cũng đã bao gồm phần đánh giá về thiết bị ở cuối danh sách. Đường mòn Cape Wrath là một con đường đi bộ rất xa và chỉ những người đi bộ đường dài có kinh nghiệm mới nên th���. Thời tiết ở Scotland có thể rất khó lường và bạn cần biết cách sống sót trong thời tiết ẩm ướt và lạnh giá trong nhiều…

[sorte-de-vida]

📼

Send 📼 to see an early childhood memory of my muse’s

Fear floods the boy, the sound of battles behind him as he moves on terror filled instinct rather than coherent thought and planning. Behind him he can hear the clashing of troops, the east finally beginning to overcome the west in a violent lurch.

He had not seen his father in some time, and his mother? Well, she was the one who had instructed him to run, locked in a fierce battle with... Him.

Bandau— Bracari was sure it was him, too young and naïve to see such a great country as anything but godlike. Spear and shield in hand, cape behind him as red as the blood he spills forth, and utterly decistating... the boy cannot figure out why they've been betrayed by their own god, what they had done to deserve such wrath.

Mother was strong, but not strong enough, overwhelmed and unprepared. In his fleeing he had stopped at the forest's edge, turned to look— a mistake Bracari would realize in that instant.

Lusitania falls to him, and he watches as the spear skewers her into the dirt of the battlefield... A battlefield that had once been town, and home to the fledgling tribe. Golden eyes, blazing with the thrill of battle snap to meet his own hazel, and the man's smile is sickening, twisting his guts in a fear he did not know he could possess within his small body. Everything goes silent, yet war still wages around him— ears ring, vision tunnels, heart stops and kickstarts with a violent banging. Yet, in war there is no time for grieving, and slowly the clashing of weapons and steel though meat fills his ears, once more. The gesture in his direction doesn't go unnoticed, nor the movement of the killers lips as his hungry gaze takes him in.

He does not wait to be captured, and instead resumes his sprint with renewed vigor. Family falls away from his mind as survival rules once more.

They give chase like a dog with prey drive, trees whipping long lashes into his skin as he runs, but he can feel nothing but the blood rushing in his veins, the dirt beneath his feet and the sharp rocks that slice his soles are a numb throbbing, yet it leaves a perfect trail behind to follow.

He hits the river, and he can hear the curled foreign tongue of the invaders closing in. He moves like a rabbit through the river, running for dear life towards the sea just behind the horizon. Prayers and pleas are met with silence, yet the water around his ankles are soothing, the scraps and cuts of his heels soothed by the cool liquid like Nabia herself saw to it personally.

Another silent prayer is sent to the lady of the valley just as he breaks the treeline, chest heaving and gasping for air as wild eyes look around. There he was, at the precipice of the very valley she represents, a sacrifice of blood pulled from his soles into her waters as the river meets the sea in the distance. He could make it, he could—

Something whistles through air, and strikes him, hard.

Suddenly, everything shifts, reality crackling around the confines of his soul like lightning— a disturbance in the natural order. He feels nothing but gravity as his body moves of its own accord, time slowing to a near hault, grinding slowly millisecond by millisecond as he folds and falls forward... Down, down, down. When he hits the water it envelopes him like the arms of his mother, a cool and comforting sensation as the spear lodged through his small form scrapes the riverbed. The last thing he sees is the glittering of the sun off the ocean waves, and darkness takes him.

[xasha777]

In a world not unlike our own, where the line between science and magic blurred, the city of Neo-Gotham had always been a beacon of human ingenuity. The glittering skyscrapers, born from the restless dreams of architects and alchemists, stood tall against the canvas of the ever-changing sky.

But that day, the sky was an angry swirl of thunderheads, and the city was on the verge of despair. The citizens of Neo-Gotham had faced many challenges before—corporate warlocks, cybernetic beasts, rogue AIs—but the tempest above was the herald of something far more ancient and formidable.

Aranyaka, the primeval force of nature that had slumbered in the heart of the Neo-Gotham Central Park, had awakened. The very essence of wilderness, the spirit that predated the concrete jungles and neon lights, was stirring, its energies disrupting the fabric of the city.

Amidst this chaos, there emerged an unlikely hero. Whiskers fluttering in the storm, a feline figure stood proudly upon a gnarled branch that overlooked the metropolis. Clad in a shimmering cape with the emblem of a storied hero from another era, this was no ordinary cat.

His name was Leo, but the streets whispered his legend as "The Super Cat." Genetically enhanced by a forgotten technology, Leo possessed intellect and powers that rivaled the greatest superheroes of yore. His once-human companions had designed him as a protector, a guardian of the peace in a world teetering on the edge of tomorrow.

As the storm unleashed its fury upon Neo-Gotham, Leo's eyes glowed with a cosmic light. He could feel the pulse of Aranyaka, the wild heartbeat of the world, calling to him. It was a call to restore balance, to weave together the strands of science and nature that humanity had so carelessly unraveled.

With a graceful leap, Leo soared into the belly of the storm, his cape trailing like a comet's tail. The rain lashed at him, the winds roared their defiance, but Leo was resolute. He had to reach the core of the tempest, where Aranyaka's power was the strongest.

There, at the eye of the storm, Leo found the heart of Aranyaka—a vortex of primal energy, pulsing with life and ancient knowledge. It was not wrath that drove the spirit but a plea for recognition, for a place in the neon glow of the city it once called home.

Leo, with his paws channeling the ancient rites of the techno-mystics, began the dance of communion. He wove around him a tapestry of quantum spells and whispered enchantments that spoke of coexistence and harmony.

As the incantations grew stronger, the storm abated, the winds calmed, and the skies cleared to reveal the stars above. Neo-Gotham, bathed in the celestial light, looked on in wonder as their Super Cat descended, the tempest tamed and the spirit of Aranyaka soothed.

From that day forward, Neo-Gotham thrived like never before, a city in balance, where technology and nature existed as one. And at the heart of it all was Leo, the feline guardian, the bridge between worlds, the Super Cat who had saved them all.

[guy60660]

Begg x Co | Richard Gaston | Cape Wrath Trail Scotland

[benbackpackerblog]

Mountains can make you

or break you, the only way

forwards is over.

[sgurrthuilm]

Quelques photos en vrac (mais en ordre chronologique) du Cape Wrath Trail, pour compléter celles que j’ai mises dans les posts précédents. 

[kazeofthemagun]

Back at the underground den, that accursed sword would have lopped his limbs clean off were he to so much as reach for snowy fabric. But now, it was different. Now, neither of their Demon Weapons were listening. Their gods have abandoned them, here in this deep and suffocating darkness - they were alone.

Alone.

And nobody was coming to save either of them.

There was a moment of panic, the running hare turning its head around to gaze upon the wolf breathing down its neck - a stray branch smacking into a horned head and throwing off his prey's balance. The Windarian's fingers buried themselves in the back of the Cloud's cape, and he tugged.

There was a crash as they both tumbled to the ground, shared momentum causing an explosion of dirt to rise up from the forest floor. There was a grunt of pain as the gunmage felt his body collide with the ground, and he spat out the slick glob of blood pooling from his pierced tongue. It painted the edges of his mouth in jagged black brushstrokes.

His head was pounding in tune with the Magun's core - so much he could swear it was ready to burst at a moment's notice. It was more than just hatred he felt. The feeling that surged through his form in agonizing waves was blinding - making an unidentifiable sludge of his memories and thoughts, scrambling his very identity and motives. Briefly, the panicked Windarian scoured the corrupted recesses of his brain for Her face - Her eyes and name eluding him, as though dissolved in thick mist. He could feel it all slipping from his grasp, now, slick like wet entrails spilling from a wound.

All he knew... him and the prey lying, dazed, on the ground beside him; They were both killers. And he took - everything -

Everything -

THAT DREG TOOK EVERYTHING FROM HIM.

With tarlike blood trailing down the length of his neck, Kaze let out a gargling growl, the digits of his remaining hand all but drilling into the prince's closer ankle. A vice-like grip of steel, nearly strong enough to shatter bone. Beneath his bestial embrace, contending with the strength of the Misterican's leg - pale skin would bruise and bloom in crimson. With every muscle in his body twitching and shaking in the throes of some wicked disease of the mind, the corpse that remained of Black Wind pulled hard, dragging the Demon Swordsman on the forest floor.

With Orthrus dropped in the confusion, the madman's hand reached for the hilt of his dagger, unsheathing a trembling blade of crimson. His eyes hurt, he could almost feel the reddish black flood his vision - but there was a job to be done. He was so close, so close now - that wretch would never escape, even if they both had to destroy one another.

With a speed and strength almost unnatural for his broken state, he seized White Cloud's form, attempting to straddle him to lock down the warrior's powerful legs. The blade of Geryon rose into the air, a twisted grimace of boiling wrath warping the once-proud Windarian's features.

"Fucking die!"

And he struck. Something wild and untameable, devoid of reason; the tip of the blade aiming just beneath the Cloud's sternum. A stab meant to slot directly between his quarry's lungs and drag lower, down to the bottom of the abdomen, and with a fleeting twang of disgust and confusion he realized he had done this before.

A hit to the chest would be instant -

Such hateful, senseless violence, but there was more than simply a need to kill. This was a need to cause pain, to maim and mutilate, an act of a being of pure Chaos. Yet, even as his body moved of its own accord, the Wind could not recall nor understand to whom - or to what - that name belonged.

Then again, in that very moment, he could no longer even recall the meanings behind the names "Black Wind" and "White Cloud".

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ How was he supposed to fly in this when there were so many low hanging trees? If he could see - that was all he needed a boost in his sight. So jade eyes are fading out for a moment only for a glowing white to replace their hue. He hates doing it. He knows the dangers of pulling power and he'll suffer for it later but if he didn't do then he'll suffer now at the hands of Black Wind.

If he doesn't do it now, then he'll be dead later.

He can hear that blood curdling half laugh half rumbling insanity building behind and it can only make his whole body run cold. Colder than it already did. Colder than the hand of death herself.

So he doesn't have time to debate on whether or not soul tapping was the correct course of action here. He just needs a little bit of help to clear his own sight so he can dodge the low hanging branches and brush that are in the path before him.

Before him and only before. He can never look back. Never ever can he turn his head around. Not with that rabid dog nipping at his heels and somehow this entire situation gives the phrase skating just above the soil a whole new meaning that he never wants to be experience ever again.

Somehow he doesn't think he'll be getting a choice in that though.

That man is not Rorahm-Vahree. No, Rorahm died in that fight just as Seejvariil did and now the reaper has come to claim him because he doesn't know what else to call that skeletal corpse animating what used to be the man he so adored. His Sun was replaced by a shadow of flame and he's never done well in the heat.

Orthrus continues to howl behind him and he has to use every ounce of his focus not to look back. He can command the Maken on sound alone but it is hard to pin point the sound of bullets when he needs to hear them over heavy footsteps and an accelerated heartbeat. The Magun itself is roaring from within the golden coffin that keeps it and he can hear it's drumming rhythm that is begging for his blood.

It's deafening.

Even with a tap on his soul, it's deafening. He's drawing for his eyes not his ears and he's almost scared that if he uses it to enhance his hearing, that the sound of his Sun's supernova will be more than enough to drive him mad.

He already feels like he's toeing the line between sanity and hysteria as it was. He doesn't need to dive into that pool willingly. These ocean waves may have been pulled by his tide but they are a mighty crashing force that seek to drown any who are caught in their waters.

He cannot let himself go under.

Not yet.

He will pay for his sins in the future when the work is done. So he cannot let this beast drown him today. Today he cannot sink beneath the waves.

That's why he needed to get out of here.

But he can hardly focus between his Mist thinning out, flying, dodging the brush around him and keeping the Maken ready to defend against any gunfire coming his way. He can hardly focus when the sound of "Misterican!" is echoing in his mind in a voice that very much does not belong to Black Wind. In a voice of a man who very much would have killed him if the one chasing him currently had not shown up before that Windarian could slit his throat.

Because he came much too close to experiencing such a thing and he hopes he can escape it again because something is screaming in the back of his mind right now that this Black Wind would relish the sight of his Sielun Värit stained with a fresh crimson. That was never a good way to finally become the hue of his family's bloodline. His lineage only showing through when he is stained with the color that is pumping through his veins.

Everything is getting so loud. Footsteps getting closer. Closer. Closer. CLOSER. He can't hear and his mind betrays him when he turns his head just long enough to peer over his shoulder for a few seconds to see that snarling demon that has possessed the body of a man his heart yearned to see sat back to his old self again -

The prince is letting out a shout of pain as he turns his head back only for his negligence to earn the swordsman a thick branch to the face. It's an all in one motion. The world slowing down to a mere crawl as he as feels the wood smash into his nose and he shouts in pain. Hands moving to cover his face as eyes go closed for a split second only to reopen pure jade in hue.

The reaching hand behind him comes down on the fabric of his cape to pull him backwards and he can feel his whole body getting yanked from the air. He's tumbling backwards and into the wolf's maw whether he wants to or not. There is a searing pain flooding through his face as the feeling of a warm trickle of liquid runs from his nose.

VITTU!

He's positive it's broken but that is the least of his worries right now. Black Wind has him by the cape and they're both going down. He can't let him get him to the ground but his head is screaming and the tears in his eyes are from more than just emotional distress now. His face feels like there is a fire spreading through his body from the center while his arm throbs and blood coats white fabric and makes it stick to his skin.

The sound of the other man cursing him nearly falls on deaf ears. Liar.... Lair... he says and the man of the clouds would have had it in him to ask what he thought he was lying about if the throbbing pain in his face weren't making him so dizzy. Mist pours out of him in pained gasping plumes while the both of them tumble to the ground...

[cithaerons]

literally i need to go to like. the scottish highlands. soon.