#How Many Tears to Nurture a Rose?
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serpentide · 1 year ago
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° • * ˚ ⁀ ➷ @wolvensden , the horror and the wild : ❝ I won’t let you turn our last night into this. ❞ ptn :)))
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 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇, 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 ▬▬ when one's life is wholly barren of promises, it is easy to find refuge in the comforting thought of death. no matter how old she was, or in which place she abandoned herself to such macabre reveries, her death was always the same: it was cold, it was dark, it was yet another instance of utter and soul - crushing solitude. and mayhap, this is why his words evoked not a concerned grimace or a desperate sigh out of her, but a silver - belled laughter that instantaneously painted over any emptiness that she might have previously felt. sett was undoubtedly being much more dramatic and pessimistic than he ought to be, but there was something intimate about the prospect of spending her last moments in the company of another [  ... ] it was a grotesque kind of delight, a pleasure that could have roused the flames of only the most monstrous hearts, but the ophidian vixen had long since ceased to regard herself as humane and thus, with claws and fangs, she held tightly onto it.
a merry simper, dulcet but sharp - fanged. ❝ do you really think that we're both going to die tomorrow ? ❞ although it is in obvious jest that she speaks, there is a coarse type of curiosity intertwined with each syllable that she coats in honey: even now, her voice is feather - light and mellifluous, the song of an hypnotizing snake that no longer wishes to be alone. her claw - tipped hand finds his own, and serpent observes for a moment just how great is the difference in size ▬▬ her hands may be even bloodier than his, yet they look so petite and harmless when he is the one to intertwine their fingers together. color - less gaze now returns him again and albeit through the silent language of fluttering lashes and jester - like smiles, she beckons him to give all of himself to her. ❝ since you are already stepping into your grave with one feet, why don't you tell me how we should spend our last night ? tell me, sett, how do you wish for us to meet our end ? ❞
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sisi-the-undead · 10 months ago
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Was tagged by @vera-simik thamk c:
Rules: shuffle your on repeat playlist 10 times and tag 10 people:
1 -Ryujin - Gekokujo
2 - Lord of the Lost - Priest
3 - Wisborg ft. Chris Harms - Im freien Fall
4 - Burning Witches - Hexenhammer
5 - Holaski - Praj mi, hdźe sy
6 - Cradle of Filth - How Many Tears to Nurture a Rose?
7 - Masa Works Design - Demon March
8 - Æther Realm - Death
9 - Lord of the Lost - For They Know Not What They Do
10 - Epica - Sensorium
I probably don't even know 10 people, but I'm tagging @obrozujici-premyslovec @the-running-elf @i-might-change-it-later @sheyshocked @duch-z-bramboroveho-pytle @froschgenosse @kerbal0154
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buttercupblu · 4 months ago
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one day, the clouds parted and an Angel tumbled down, falling all the way from the celestial sphere, but landing light as a feather in a bushel of white roses. she looked up at the sky—brushing off her darkened wings—and with squinting eyes, gazed at a kingdom so bright but so rigid and said with a calm breath, "well screw you, i didn't want to be a part of that snooze fest anyway." and promptly made her own Heavens on Earth.
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(in no particular order...maybe)
one punch (OP)
jojo's bizarre adventure (JJBA)
jujutsu kaisen (JJK) (lowkey regret the day i pressed play on this🤭)
record of ragnarok (ROR)
eventually attack on titan (AOT) once i'm finished with it (Levi should've been in the harem 🧍🏾‍♀️)
Angel's Heavens and why she loves them:
🩷Buddha (ROR): this man is my Lord and personal savior—watch ROR if you don't know what i'm talking about. Buddha exudes peace in his every waking and sleeping moment but try him if you want to and earn a first-class trip to Nirvana 😘. his tongue game is BRAZY (you've seen the gif) and he loves to BITE. he makes sure we do yoga together every single morning to start our day and after making sure my back is nice and stretched out, he breaks it 🧘🏾‍♀️. but he always puts me back together with soft coos, humming purrs, and tender strokes. this man is my lock screen, my peace, my husband, my everything. i keep him fed and not just with food; he will never know hunger as long as i am alive 🤍
💜Geto (JJK): mymanmymanmymanmymanmyman. if Sugu asked me to have his kids, i would say "how many baby?" and i am clearly not mother material 🥴. my husband #2 that i would turn my back against the JJK world for in a heartbeat. he could call me a 🙈 and i would say thank you. in all realness, i get geto. i really do. my little alien, my little aquarius, he just wants justice at the end of the day—truly. not power, not dictatorship, just for things to be right, safe. there's something about his maternal instincts that lets me know he would take suchhhh good care of me—he's so careful, so understanding. i'd never have to lift a finger (except when i'm being a brat) and his Suave Commercial locs make me want to wrap them around my fist and pull. he has a face card that will never decline and baby, i keep on swiping 🤧|sidenote: i need his gender pls and ty
💜Choso (JJK): my pookie-wookie puppyboi boyfriend Cho, what would i ever do without you??? idk, there's something about Chosito that sets my motherly instincts on fire 🔥 . i want to love on him, nurture him, care for him, and absolutely reduce him to tears all in the same breath. he's such a family man, so full of love and kindness and security and i adore that about him. my soft and gentle man, i feel like he's a 70-30 sub-dominate switch but gIRL do not be fooled 😩—when that man loses all sense in that cute little pig-tailed head of his, you better have an icy pack and aftercare on standby 🧍🏾‍♀️
💚Josuke (JJBA): oooohmygAWD 😩 what isn't there to say about boyfriend #2, Josuke?? the hair, the moves, the suave looks, the no-bullshit attitude. besides Dio, baby invented jojo-posing like, kneel before your Leo king?? he's so cute and creative and such a quick thinker like omg part 4 had me STRESSED, but he gets his quick wits from his no-good cheating ass pappy 🤭. josuke keeps it real, calm, cool, and collected. he's a bit too forgiving (fk Okuyasu) but that's only because he has a 💗 bigger than his hair, and when im not spending hours styling it and getting him together in the morning, im daydreaming about his love, care, and cuddles i get every night. and if i ever hurt myself, he's quick to heal my boo-boos with magical kisses🤍
💚Narancia (JJBA): my silly little goof ball pup #2, omg he's so precious and innocent and deserves soooo much more 🥺. Narancia is just...pure unadulterated love in human form. he doesn't judge, he doesn't reject, he's a bit quick to anger but it's always deserved because look at him!! how could you be mean to such a precious little thing, he wouldn't hurt a fly (unprovoked). my baby's a little slow but what he doesn't have in genius, he makes up for with his heart. and that boy can dance and dress his ass off, lets fking goooo skintight leather steel-bone corset top 🗣️
🩷Sukuna (JJK): ok listen....hear me out...balance🧍🏾‍♀️. he brings balance. everyone else is muddled and normal, soft, or innocent but Kuna resides in the extremes, is the perfect polar-opposite of Choso, and rounds out the group with good ole fashion discipline 💪🏾 (read Exercising with Sukuna if you don't believe me). he's not my favorite to deal with because the man puts the ass in asshole bUT it's good for my soul to toughen up every now and then. if you want something done and you want it done right, ask Sukuna. he'll grumble and berate you the entire time but sh*t will get done and better than you ever thought it could be. .......he also has 4 arms, 2 dicks, and a stomach mouth—good fkin bye.
🩷Saitama (OP): he makes me laugh, there's not much more to say 🤣. the most normal out of the group and the most nonchalant. Saitama is literally my best friend who never takes anything seriously just like me. our favorite hobby we do together is literally grocery shopping and i will wake my ass up every saturday morning to be by his side as he spends way too much time comparing fruits and vegetables just to get the same things he does every time. he's also the strongest and would deck everyone on this list if it came to it (argue with the manga, not me 🐸☕️)
honorable mention: Levi (AOT) because this short king 👑 cares too much and gives no f**ks at the same time and has the best resting b*tch face/face card i've ever seen 🧍🏾‍♀️
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🪽current fav fic written by Angel: God is Fair|Suguru Geto since you were young, you knew you were meant for each other. he comes into your life like a storm and grows closer no matter how distant you seem. he swells and captures your heart every time he's near. so why do you keep fighting him? angel's note: full of backstory, poetry, and tear-your-heart-out angst with one of the sluttiest, smuttiest part twos in existence
🪽current fav recommendation from another author: One, Two, Three (it's not only you and me)|STSG x Reader "what suguru is trying to avoid saying is the whole cliché of 'we saw you from across the bar and we really like your vibe'," the white-haired man says, gaze flickering down your body. he looks back up, making eye contact. "but it's true, so we were wondering if you'd like to join us for some fun," he says casually, blue eyes piercing. angel's note: and it comes with an AMAZING playlist yall wtf 😩🖤
🪽current fav song to write to: Cigarettes out the Window|TV Girl
🪽fav genres: [writing: nasty, slutty, toe-curling smutty smut, thrillers, enemies to lovers, coming of age]|[reading: psychological horror/thrillers🧍🏾‍♀️, silly goofy supernatural/sci-fy like John Dies at the End (an incredible series that will have you in tears from laughter, stg), dystopian fiction, fiction satire, coming of age/young adult, the classics (surprise)]
🪽hobbies: writing, reading, skating, graphic design, being outdoors as much a possible, being at peace
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beats me 🤷🏾‍♀️
nah jk.
the real reason will forever remain a mystery, but i think it has something to do with connectedness.
the first major story i wrote was handwritten in the largest binder i could find in the 4th grade and was about fairies with elemental superpowers.
my first fandom was typed out on my mom's typewriter at her job and about 40/50 pages and was about the boyband B5 (shout tf out to you if yk who they are 🗣️).
both of these instances explored hobbies/interests that i was deeply into. i wanted to share my own take on these things that occupied so much of my time with others who also couldn't escape the clutches of favorites and fandom.
i also wanted to "escape" from a life i thought was dull and bland in favor of living in a world that was bright and full of color and literally in the palm of my hands.
now i do it just because i like to torture myself 🤍
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i would create an entirely new world if i could, but i'll settle for pouring my heart out on tumblr
💗first and foremost, all of my characters are 18+. i don't really care for writing aged-up minor characters but when i do, it will be mostly fluff but they will be adults at the end of the day, especially when you consider real-world timelines.
💗smut: i know what you came here for 😏. this does include some more controversial dynamics like consensual non-consent (CNC), ageplay, petplay, power exchange (top, bottom, sub, dom, "slave", etc) rough play, but these writings will always come with tag warnings because everyone likes their tea different 😊
💗fluff: ofc everyone loves a bit of fluff. tis good for the heart to remember that you have one (not me though, y'all be safe)
💗angst 😈: there's nothing i love more than stirring the fictional pot. it hurts so good
💗long ass stories that are almost always projected to be under 8k but end up breaching 10k because i have no control over my life 🤠
💗i will write characters outside of my Heavens/top fandoms but i have to be familiar with those characters/show—keep that in mind in case i reject a future request
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let's be civil little angels here
🚫hardcore gore/mutilation: love to read it but cannot write it. am baby
🚫unsafe fetishes: i am kink-shaming 💩, race play, STDs (god why does this need to be said), grApe, i n c e s t, necro, actual torture, etc.,
🚫cliche/exaggerated mental disorders: like saying someone who is very tidy has "OCD" or someone with mood swings is "bipolar"; those are incorrect stereotypes AND i am not licensed to give even fictional characters those diagnoses
🚫pregnancy: gasp, ik. but listen, i have no idea what it's like to be pregnant or have kids (other than my stuffies) nor envision that for myself because it does not seem like much fun 😅 and frankly, i don't really care for it as a plot point? i'd consider it maybe for a drabble request but no major plots
🚫anything else i may be uncomfortable with down the line. i don't have a lot of hard nos but people can get weird sometimes 👀
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reblogs, likes, and comments = angel kisses and i have soft, plump lips so 👉🏾👈🏾
i'll eventually open up my asks for requests but this gojo fic (teaser here) is balding me and taking up alllll of my time right now. once they do open, i may be slow to fulfill requests but that's only because i care too much about making great content 🥺. until then, you can still blow up my inbox with reviews, recommendations, thoughts, nonsensical jibber-jabber, whatever; Come chat with the Harem
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nekohime19 · 2 months ago
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Heart behind the lie # 39 : Consuming fear
Mac try to convince the others that going in the Diyu is a bad idea, he has a mini panic attack.
Macaque felt like the world itself was dropped on his shoulders. The blacksmith's words echoed like an impending doom inside of his ears, crushing everything within him. He knew it was logical. It would explain why the compass was so confused, why it couldn't find the lantern piece. No matter how powerful the Bone Demon's magic was, the device wasn't built to pierce the layers in-between the realms.
He wanted to scream. 
The macaque rose, expression carefully shaped to not let one shred of his emotions pass through, and left the room. He needed to breathe, he needed to flee, there were too many eyes in this room, not enough space. He felt like beasts were tearing each other apart inside of his chest, emotions clashing against each other, bruising his stammering heart. He feared that, if he stayed any longer in this room, something would dig through his chest and escape him, something vile coated in all the disgusting feelings he nurtured about the Diyu. Macaque fled towards the deck and leaned over the railing, something rumbled in himself, feelings surged in and clogged his throat, suffocating him. He threw up in the heated winds, overwhelmed by everything crashing onto him at once. 
Macaque tightly gripped the railings, eyes unfocused, breath labored. He closed his eyes and tried to control himself, or at least to control the storm inside of him. 
“Macaque… you’re alright?” The warrior flinched and turned around, he grimaced when he caught sight of the sage. Sun Wukong looked worried, eyes widened with something akin to fear swirling inside of them. 
“Yeah I just… I need to go to the bathroom.” Mumbled the ebony monkey, he passed by the King, head lowered in shame. Sun Wukong tried to grab him but he stepped aside, not willing to be touched at the moment. The sage lowered his hand with a wounded look, he quickly pushed the look aside and tried to smile at him. 
“Okay… I…I'll be there if you want.” It sounded weak, almost desperate in a way. Macaque only nodded, slipping away in a hurry. 
He entered the bathroom and immediately tried to wash away the aftertaste of vomit clinging to his mouth, taking a large gulp of water and spitting it in the sink. He repeated the action until he felt like he was drowning in ice-cold water. Once his mouth was cleaned Macaque collected water in the crook of his palms and splashed himself, the coldness hit his face, clinging to his fur, grounding him in the present. He still felt like his heart was eaten alive by starved beasts, but at least his mind was a little clearer than before. He needed to think about the situation, he needed to be alone for the time being and collect his thoughts. Macaque threw a glance at the man in the mirror and winced when he noticed the fear swirling in his eyes and the tremble shaking his fingers. No, he couldn't let himself be seized by terror, he needed to control himself. 
Macaque left the bathroom and slipped inside of his and Wukong's room, he commanded the shadows with a flick of wrist and covered the window with blackness, not wanting to be seen from the exterior or to be hit by light at the moment. Macaque sat on his bed and held his head in his hands, legs shaking nervously, tail coiled around his waist in a pitiful attempt at comfort. He took deep breaths and closed his eyes, he startled when he felt something soft rubbing against his tight, he lowered his gaze and smiled at the sight of Sock. Macaque petted the lil sage, fingers weaving carefully in her russet fur. She jumped on his lap and curled around his stomach, purring loudly against his skin. It felt nice, and it appeased something inside of him. The fear was still there, lurking around the corners of his mind, waiting to pounce on him and turn him in shreds, but it was subdued for now. 
Macaque took the lil lady white paws and rubbed them, he liked to feel her pads, it soothed him in a way not a lot could.
“We can't go to the Diyu…” Muttered the warrior, voice so faint it almost drowned in the silence. “It's not… it’s a dangerous place.” Macaque would never forgive himself if he dragged people he cared about in the depth of hell, he would rather live as a parasite for eterny than push others in this nightmarish place. This whole adventure had never been something he fully agreed on in the first place. Macaque was used to taking care of his matters alone, sharing his burden filled him with a sense of guilt he couldn't ease no matter what he tried. He let them do as they pleased because some part of him latched on to the hope he would be able to be more than a walking corpse, because some part of him knew they did it out of care, and he didn't want to push that care away. But the Diyu wasn't like any other places, and he refused to let them see what sort of horrors happened in hell's depths, he refused to let them break their own souls to heal his. 
Macaque fell on the bed and closed his eyes, he brought Sock closer and curled around her, finding comfort in her warmth. He knew he would have to confront the others eventually, they were stubborn enough to dive headfirst in the Diyu if it meant saving someone (especially MK and his mentor). Macaque didn't want to fight them, he was tired of fighting, but this wasn't something he could ignore. Macaque stayed still for a few hours, nose buried in Sock’s fur, letting his mind wander. He tried to think of peaceful times, but images of the Diyu haunted him. He remembered the way they judged him for everything he did in his life, their eyes soulless and unbothered by something as unquensequetial as pity. 
He remembered being passed along the ten courts, each time paying for something he did in his living. He could still feel the weight of the sword against his tongue, and the pain of the member being repeatedly ripped, he could still feel the steaming water boiling his skin and the knives piercing his skin. He remembered the images shown by the Mirror of Retribution, one of the worst Hells in his opinion, where his own reflection took on the shape of a monster. Each time he buried himself further in the lil sage's fur, in this long nightmarish recollection, she was his saving grace. She pawed at his face when he dared to whimper, and rubbed his snout with her own, trying to give him a sense of comfort. He was broken out of his trance by the soft echoes of a knock. Macaque straightened himself and answered the knock with a quiet “Come in.”
Sun Wukong entered the room with a basket of mangoes in his hands, the smile on his lips was tentative, unsure, he stayed at the edge of the room until Macaque patted his side. 
“Hey, I wanted to give you space but you skipped lunch so… here.” Awkwardly chuckled the sage as he handed the basket. “Pigsy saved you a bowl in the kitchen, if you want.” 
“Thanks.” Mumbled the warrior, he smiled at the sage and took one of the freshest mangoes. Sock walked towards the sage and pawed at his tights, demanding cuddles. Sun Wukong chuckled, a bit more lightheartedly than before, and petted her as much as she wanted. 
“... I know you must be feeling… terrible. But it's gonna be alright, we already have some ideas on how to go to the Diyu. We will get the lantern piece, I assure you.” It was probably meant to be reassuring, yet Macaque felt his throat being clogged by feeling, even the sweet taste of mangoes wasn't enough to appease him. 
“You really want to go there?”
“I mean we have to. We need that last lantern piece to heal you.” Replied the sage with furrowed eyebrows. 
“I don't think that's a good idea” Sighed the warrior, he lowered his head and bit his bottom lips. “It's dangerous.”
“Our adventures are always dangerous.” Argued the sage, which wasn't untrue, but the danger the Diyu posed was far more greater than anything they did until now. 
“It's Diyu, Wukong. The realm of the dead.”
“I know, I went there a couple of times. But, even if it is dangerous, we want to do this.”
“No, what you saw was King Yama castle at best… Wukong the others aren't even immortals, it's too dangerous.” Macaque turned to look at the sage, he dived in his gaze, hoping to find a spark of comprehension, something that would make him see reason, in vain. 
“Mac you need to heal, we don't have a choice.”
“I prefer staying like this than pushing you and the others in this place.” Replied the warrior with steel eyes, Wukong pursued his lips in frustration. 
“You can't stay like this. You're unstable!” Replied the sage, he turned away from him with fear swirling in his eyes and shaking fists. “What if your state worsens and you…” He didn't end his sentence, he didn't have to, Macaque knew what he was talking about. 
“Wukong, you need to listen to me.” Pleaded the warrior, he put his hands on the sage's cheeks and guided his gaze on him. “It's not worth it.”
“It's worth it!” Argued the King. “You're worth it, Mac.” Macaque felt frustrated, the sage wasn't listening, it reminded him of how he had never been listened to in his youth. The warrior feared that he would let himself be consumed by anger the longer they dragged this conversation around, he needed to convince the other before being controlled by the fear and the frustration colliding inside of him. 
“Listen to me, please. The Diyu is a dangerous place, it's made to torture people. What would happen if you guys got hurt? I don't want you or anyone to…” Sun Wukong sighed and removed the warrior's hands from his face. 
“I'm not gonna change my mind on this.” Sun Wukong looked at him with fire in his eyes, his hands squeezed Macaque's own before retreating to his side. The sage smiled at the warrior, something pained but filled with determination, rose and walked towards the door. “I'll be outside if you need me.”
Macaque watched him disappear from the room with frustration, he threw one pillow at the door once it closed. He fell on the bed, arms over his eyes, tail lashing furiously at the floor. Sun Wukong had always been quite the stubborn idiot but Macaque had hoped his journey had given him the wisdom to know when to quit. Granted, maybe his view of the Diyu was skeview by what he endured in the depth of hell, but still it was too dangerous for mortals to visit the realm of the dead. They didn't even know who or what brought the lantern piece in this realm. Crossing the layers piled in-between realms was no laughing matter, it was impossible for the lantern piece to get in this sort of place by itself. As such the one who brought the lantern piece in the Diyu had to be insanely powerful. What sort of wrath would they unleash by seeking the lantern piece? What sort of being would they anger? Macaque didn't remember all of it, his memories of the Diyu were often tainted by pain, but he remembered rumors about some beings capable of crossing realms while he was in the Diyu. Specifically rumors about beings able to go in the Diyu as they wished, the rumors always depicted them as ruthless and powerful. This wasn't the sort of being Macaque wanted to cross. 
“Even if Wukong can't be reasoned with, maybe the others…” Yet even if he tried to fool himself, he knew how stubborn the others were. MK wasn't the type to abandon someone in need, even in the face of great dangers. And those friends of his would rather die than let him dive alone. “Those idiot!”
Even while knowing the results, he tried to reason with MK and the others. As expected no one agreed with him. He hoped for a second that Pigsy, the most responsible of them, would see the danger of this adventure but the chef supported his kid, perhaps not wanting to let him go alone. Macaque left them before their conversation could turn into a shouting match. He sat on the ship's front, tail lashing to show he didn't want to be bothered as of now. The winds felt good on his fur, yet it couldn't appease the tremble of his heart. As much as he wanted to, Macaque knew he couldn't control the others, he couldn't prevent them from going. It was frustrating, it scared him to let them see this place, but he couldn't do anything about it. There was a fire in their eyes, something Macaque couldn't extinguish no matter what he did. 
He felt powerless and he hated it. He wondered if he should let it go or if he should try harder. He absently played with a ball of shadows, creating shapes inside of his palm, forging weapons and weaving them around his fingers. 
“That's quite the ability you got there.” Macaque startled and looked up, Ou Xue was behind him, as always cladded in gray. Macaque didn't hate them, they were rather discreet and their mere presence gave him time to think (they still needed to drop them on the Pure-Rock Mountain. Macaque was sure that without Ou Xue the others would have already tried to get in the Diyu). 
“Hm, thanks?” Replied the warrior, unsure. 
“Shadow weapons, haven't seen them in a while.” Macaque perked up at that and latched on the opportunity to change his mind. 
“You know shadow users?”
“I've come across a few in my life.” Shrugged the blacksmith, they walked towards the edge of the ship and leaned on the railing, watching the horizon being painted by the soft colors of dawn. “You seem like quite the powerful shadow user. You're doing it wrong though.”
“What am I doing wrong?” Asked Macaque with furrowed eyebrows. Ou Xue turned towards him, their bead-like eyes sizing him up before settling on his face. 
“Shadow weapons' greatest strength is their malleability. Think about it, you got a dagger, and in the middle of the fight you can change it into a whip. That's powerful. Now, their greatest weakness is their friability, they're not that durable, nor that heavy. Don't think about a weapon you'd like, think about a fighting style you’d like and make different weapons suiting it.”
“I never thought of it like that.” Mumbled the macaque, he looked at the shadows gathered in his palm for a bit before letting them fade in the wind. “Why are you helping me though?”
“I'm curious about what sort of weapons you'd produce. If I'm honest I also pity you a bit.” There was a spark of empathy in their eyes, but it wasn't the pity someone would feel upon seeing your misery, it was the shared pain of someone knowing exactly what you were going through, and finding pity in it. Macaque felt unsettled by that, but at the same time rather curious. Who were they to feel the same pain as him? “Diyu is a dangerous place.”
“Talk to me about it.” Scoffed the warrior as he crossed his arms. 
“Yeah, I can see you went through the Diyu once at least. Were you resurrected or reincarnated?” Macaque glared at the blacksmith with suspicion, but decided to humor them, it was better than drowning in his thoughts. 
“Neither, necromancy.”
“Ouch, that's not great.” Winced Ou Xue. 
“What about you? You seem to know a lot about the subject, did you go through the whole Diyu experience too?” Ou Xue narrowed their eyes, but maybe they had more goodwill towards him than he thought, they answered easily. 
“Numerous times. Let's just say good old Meng Po broth is not to my taste.” Macaque's eyes widened at that, Meng Po was the goddess meeting the cleansed souls at the end of the Diyu, she offered them the Broth of Oblivion before guiding them to the Bridge of Forgetfulness, towards their next earthly incarnations. All souls residing in the Diyu were destined to follow the samsara cycle and be reincarnated, cleansed of their bad karma, Macaque was one of the few that were ripped from the cycle and went against nature itself. Resurrection wasn't considered unnatural, for it was healing, thus it did not rip souls from the samsara cycle but heal them to prolong their earthly lives, often than not resurrected people forgot about their time in the Diyu. Necromancy ripped souls from the cycle because it broke them instead of healing them, it was the art of thieves, necromancers were those who stole souls from the Diyu. “So as people who went through the same shit, I kinda want to advise you. Personally I think going in the Diyu is foolish but those friends of yours don't strike me as idiots, I think they're aware of the dangers but still want to go. With that said, what you should mull over is not how to stop them, but if you are ready to follow them.”
Macaque flinched and looked down with a sigh on his lips. 
“Yeah, they're too stubborn to let me stop them…”
“Then you know what you have to do.” Shrugged the blacksmith, they straightened and left the dock, walking past the macaque. 
“You're leaving?”
“You're reeking of depressive energy, kid, I'm not staying.” Huffed Ou Xue, Macaque was surprised he ever thought of them as meek or reserved when they first met, he pushed that thought aside to focus on the fact they called him, a centuries-old being, kid. 
“Who are you calling kid ! I'm older than you!”
“You act like a brooding kid, so you're kid.” Chuckled the blacksmith as they disappeared inside of the ship. 
“The nerve of the younger generation.”Huffed the warrior, now that he thought about it Ou Xue was probably insanely old, considering they remembered their past lives, still Macaque wanted to believe he was older. It was a matter of pride. 
The warrior stayed on the dock for a while, he left at the first signs of night and went to find the others. They were in the lounging room, sitting around a white board (probably created by Wukong) and trying to find ideas on how to get in the Diyu safely. They stopped once he entered and turned towards him with curiosity. Macaque sighed and scratched the base of his neck awkwardly. 
“Look, I'm sorry. I was maybe a bit too harsh on all of you.”
“It's fine, you weren't that harsh.” Beamed MK, always welcoming. 
“I mean you were a bit pushy.”
“Mei!” Argued MK. 
“It's the truth.” Shrugged the dragon-girl. 
“With what you lived through, it's understandable.” Added the scholar. 
“Ya're right about the fact it's dangerous, so I can't blame ya.” Shrugged the pig. 
“I'm just glad you're communicating your fears, Mister Maquawke.” Added the tea-lover with a sweet smile. 
“Honestly I still think you're all insane to even think about going down there but I know I can't stop you, so I want to be there.” Replied the macaque, he straightened himself and grabbed his pants to stop his fingers from shaking. The mere idea of going in hell's depth terrified him, but he refused to let them do this alone. Maybe Sandy could help him work with this fear, he had to ask him after this. 
“You're sure you want to go?” Asked Wukong, eyes shining with worry. Macaque dived in his gaze with certainty. 
“Absolutely. Besides, you'll miss me if I'm not with you.”
“You're right about that.” Mumbled the King with a soft smile. 
“Soooo, now that Macaque is in and that we assisted to this mushy monkey gayness, what do you all say about my idea?” Excitedly asked the dragon-girl. 
“You mean the idea of creating a super drill to go in the earth's crust?” Asked the Bull's son with a deadpan gaze. 
“Are we even sure that the Diyu is there?” Mumbled Tang. 
“We can always find a temporary way to die so we can go to the Diyu?” Proposed MK with a tilted head. 
“You better cross those two ideas from the white board, Wukong.” Demanded the macaque as he sat with the group. 
“Already on it.” Chuckled the King. 
Ch1 / Previous / Next
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serpentide · 2 years ago
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𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄, 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒, shedding naught but the skeleton of secrets in his wake ▬▬ it solely serves to further ignite an otherwise lethargic ember, the lingering specter of an all - devouring wildfire. truth to be told, the jester had not foreseen to be placed in the midst of this conversation ; the concept of love is blurred at the edges and fragmented in the center, she struggles to imagine its warmth as much as a believer would struggle to imagine the real face of their beloved god. demeanor grows almost defensive, her stature seems to momentarily lose its dimension beneath the push and pull of gravity ( it is almost much too easy, to feel like a little girl imprisoned within a tight cage once more, even when there are neither metallic bars nor rusted shackles to construct her personal bastille ) .
head languidly cants to one side, cherry - hued tiers pucker onwards into the vision of a pensive moue. ❝ mh, i don't suppose it would be as tremendous as you do expect it to be. ❞ cadence is tranquil and mellow, her lilt the honey - coated purr of a deceitful predator. is it really sentimentally wicked, to see love in the knife and the knife in love ?
blood - rimmed gaze falls, it focuses 'pon particles of dust that glisten in the dim light of the evening. an inability to elaborate sentiments into speech hinders her from truly giving voice to the tempestuous storm within her mind ; a half - truth is all that she can offer him. ❝ i mean, wouldn't it be better to be consumed by what loves you rather than by what loathes you ? love is a better killer than hate will ever be. ❞
❛ don’t you want to be consumed by what loves you? ❜ ✖ horror themed starters
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“ depends on what loves me, ” he answers after a brief pause, eyes sharp and dark beneath the lowered half-moons of his eyelids. they think they may know what it's like to be consumed by something that loves them; wasn't that the ending of his brother's story? though not privy to what had been going through abel's head that night, he had always made it clear up until that point that he loved cain dearly. more than himself, when cain pressed the question until abel lashed out desperately, shaky and hoarse.
the wind tugs at the ends of his hair, the worn neckline of his shirt. their stare hovers over one of the large scars knotted into the pale underside of their forearm, right where the edge jumps over their inner elbow.
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“ not really, ” he replies, aiming for bored. he's well-practiced at hiding his thoughts by now. “ do you? ”
@serpentide
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writing-heiress · 3 months ago
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What are Mia’s tropes?
TV Tropes: Mia d’Angelo
Affectionate Nickname: Freya calls her “Peanut”.
All-Loving Hero: Mia is kind and loving to just about everyone she meets.
The Baby of the Bunch: One of the youngest within Night Raven College. Given how young she is compared to the student body, most of them look out for her and help her with her magic.
Badass Adorable: She may be one of the cutest students in Night Raven, she is still as powerful as your average NRC student. Whether if she uses her magic or summons her beasts, it’s best to not underestimate Mia.
Big Sister Worship: To Freya. Ever since the beginning when they were both transported to Night Raven, Freya has been nothing but gentle & nurturing towards her even teaching her about the school’s fairies. Mia wants to be exactly like Freya when she’s older.
Cheerful Child: Like all children around her age, Mia is very cheerful and happy.
Children Are Innocent:
Mia has a habit of forgetting that her beasts are considered dangerous creatures to most people.
She also has a habit of believing whatever she’s been told by people, whether that be for better or for worse.
Cute Witch: Training to become a full-fledged witch.
Daddy’s Girl: Her with Crewel.
Girls Love Stuffed Animals: Mia has been given so many stuffed animals that she can make a pile and jump in it like autumn leaves. There have been times where Mia is covered in stuffed animals.
In-Series Nickname:
Floyd calls her “Little Fry”
Rook calls her “Petite Angel”
Leona calls her “Little Mouse”
Mortality Pet: Her to everyone in Night Raven College. Anything bad happens to Mia, all hell breaks loose.
Parental Substitute: Crewel is a paternal figure, much better than her actual father if we’re being honest.
Pink Means Feminine: Not only is pink Mia’s favorite color, but a good number of her clothes are pink as well. This includes her Night Raven uniform & Ramshackle dorm uniform.
@adrianasunderworld @liviavanrouge @the-trinket-witch @the-weirdos-mind @queen-of-twisted @fair-night-starry-tears @mangacupcake @yumeko2sevilla @yukii0nna @tragedytells-tales @ice-cweam-sod4 @starry-night-rose
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megachaoticstupid · 7 months ago
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All the things he hates
All of the stage shenanigans aside, Omega, by all means is a chill ghoul. That's true up until he meets a small crying baby
Author's note: i wanted to make a follow up to this fic and couldn't find a post with it under any tags on my blog. So me being a silly lazy person, i am just reposting it again. And i know this is rusty, this was one of my firsts, sorry. Huge thanks to @gothdaddyissues for amazing dividers and @her-satanic-wiles for all of the support she give me
Tags: somewhat fluff Masterlist
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He wasn’t sure when it all started, but maybe at the very, very beginning.
He always hated when human babies cried. They wailed like the loudest siren, demanding attention, crying due any slightest change in their small lives and roared when their parents left them. Especially orphans. They were constantly crying and calling for the parents they will never learn to know. And he always hated it.
Kids in his pack back in hell never demanded attention, because they were always provided with that. But humans, even if they cared, couldn’t help the little ones, only able to cover their basic needs and provide only necessary nurture. Even in the satanic church. And the newest addition, only one month old, was the loudest child he had ever heard.
She cried day and night, asking for the bits of attention she could never receive in the fullest. She mourned the mother, who left her in childbirth and joined her Siblings under the Lucifer’s wing, and the father, who didn’t even know she existed. And since Omega lived near the infirmary, he was going mad with her tiniest pleas until he finally snapped.  In a week he was going around the abbey, as if nothing happened, finally at peace and enjoying the quiet around him. And, just like his mother did to him in his short-lived youth, he was carrying her in a bundle of cute rose-pink covers, gently nestling her in the curve of his tail.
He knew it was an impulsive decision, not thought through, considering how much they travel on tours. He knew all of that. But seeing her babbling with joy, cradled on Apha’s chest, he melted. Seeing her grabbing his pinky while he was feeding her, made him vulnerable and so mushy on the inside. She was their joy, but also brought a lot of hateful quick thoughts to his mind.
He hated that his duty required from him to leave her with other ghouls, when he was touring with Papas. He just hated to miss out on her every achievement, her any sorrow and happiness. He had already missed her first steps and was losing more precious moments with her. Even if they sent him and Alpha all of the photos and videos, it was never enough. They missed her too much to be satiated with these tributes of their daughter. And he was always scared, that if they tour for too long, she will even not recognize them after a while.
He hated, how tiny and fragile she was, especially compared to him. Even though he knew, that amongst his kin he was considered a giant, he couldn’t help himself to be in awe at her tiny frame, making him scared to ever hurt her. And, on the contrary, she was never scared of any scratches, learning how to walk early enough for him not to babyproof Alpha’s and his quarters in time. He couldn’t even count how many times he had to kiss her boo-boos and wipe away her tears, and how many times he felt the dread when she began to fall down after a rather unsteady step.
He hated her fears of the dark, that made her cry and tremble at night. He hung everywhere nightlamps and kept the door open for her whenever she needed to run to them. Talked her through all of her fears and showed her that there was nothing to be afraid of. And still whenever she climbed into their bed, trembling and sobbing, his heart was tearing to shreds and the guilt of not being enough weight heavy on his soul.
He hated her tears when she was ill and trembling from fever and exhaustion. He couldn’t help but feel helpless, when she looked at him, pale, weak, and sobbing, while doctor checked her. He felt helpless, when she refused to eat even a light soup, made for her by loving hands of someone from the pack. And he agreed to her every whim just to make her feel better, loved and cared for. These days they never left her side, doting just a bit too much and scared for her health, watching with their daughter her favourite cartoons and persuading her to eat anything. And they always rejoiced when she finally asked for her favourite waffles.
He always grumbled how he hates bright colours and never agreed to put in their bedroom anything too flashy. But now, as she learned how to hold a pencil, their walls, the fridge, the nightstand - almost every surface was littered with her drawings and he looked at them every night before they all went to bed. Bright colours no longer irritated his eyes, they soothed him, reminding him of every single moment he and his husband spend with her. He liked to see the little stories she puts in them, he liked the shapes her childish mind invented and he couldn’t help but laugh at some of the pictures of him, Alpha and any of Papas she made. They looked almost like a caricature, sometimes highlighting their shortcomings in such a funny way, that he always fought a fit of laughter when she showed him them. His favourite were: Alpha without his mouth, because he had scolded her a night before for eating too many candies, Papa Emeterius III performing a silly dance with the biggest smile known to mankind, him, looking like a building next to every ghoul in the picture. These ones he carried in his wallet until they were too worn out.
He hated to worry about raising her into a decent adult, waiting for her to start speaking, bringing her to various doctors the Ministry could provide. Trying all of the recipes books and hacks to help her to start talking. He blamed himself for not being a good father, for always being absent on tours and not doing well enough for her. Never doing well enough for her. Even Alpha couldn’t help to ease his worries, to soothe his worrying soul, while they tried every speech therapist they knew. And through all of these worrying visits, the source of his worries was sitting on his shoulders, pulling on his horns and giggling. The first time he heard her say the first word, he was sobbing, talking to her via phone and being miles and miles away from her. But at least he was there for her thousands of “Daddy’s” after that.
He just hated to miss her so much. Especially, when every child in the venue reminded him of her. He hated to be apart from his daughter, always worrying for her health and well-being. He just hated to leave their home and leave her. And most of all, he hated to beg the Ministry to let Alpha and him to retire. Even if Terzo agreed immediately, the Ministry didn’t want to budge that easily. But, after all of the turmoil, bickering and arguments, they were finally allowed to rest, to spend the much-needed time with her.
And he never regretted this decision, because for all of the things he hated there were thousands more things he loved.
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serpentide · 1 year ago
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° • * ˚ ⁀ ➷ @pseudodead , the serpent and the wings of night : " don't look away. " (ghost)
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 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 ▬▬ even the most docile of snakes may flaunt the sharpness of its fangs when threatened by a predator much bigger than him. the ophidian vixen stands on uncertain ground, her limited knowledge of the world paints her current circumstances in the monochromatic hues of ignorance ; his uniform should at least look familiar, but it matters not how much she observes even the smallest detail sewn against battle - worn fabric, his presence is reminiscent of neither nightmares nor dreams. and thus her hold around her sickle tightens, its sharp edge gleams in the barely illuminated alleyway behind the circus tent whilst the dagger at the end of its chain dangles idly beside her ; a voice within the depth of a fragmented psyche warns her against this course of action, for what could a mere jester's scythe do against fire weapons ? it may be the voice of her most bestial instincts, or mayhap it is one of the gods that she used to pray to, but her stance does not falter [ ... ] it would be better to die, than to be put inside of a cage yet again.
❝ if you're trying to take me home, it won't end well. ❞ and even whilst her lips part and she speaks in silver - belled song, all her mind can currently focus 'pon is the reason that lays at the basis of his presence here. has he come here for the ambrosia, to either claim it for himself or to stop her from spreading happiness ? has he come here because he wishes to own the girl who can speak with snakes, as many before him have dreamt of ? down her body, a muscle stiffens. in the dead of the night, a being even darker than the star - less cerulean moves: her python, now enlarged to its greatest size, has begun to crawl towards them, circling around and tasting the air with the swift flicks of a forked tongue ; it does not attack the mysterious man, not yet at least. emboldened by the presence of her companion, serpent breaks the quietude between them once more. ❝ you don't look tasty ... but i'm sure that my lovely friend won't mind it too much, meat is meat, after all. ❞
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ckret2 · 1 year ago
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I want a metal band whose main vocalist is a death growler but their growl sounds like Donald Duck.
This post brought to you by listening to Cradle of Filth and thinking "yeah, Donald would kill at 'How Many Tears to Nurture a Rose'."
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light-lanterne · 2 years ago
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hi! below you can find a list of all my stories, in progress or otherwise, as well as some pertinent links pertaining to them all :] the emojis attached to each of these are the tags i use for each specific story~
✨ reply to this post if you'd like to be tagged whenever i post ✨
halloween stories
🪄 samhain alms — fluffy prompts to fulfil your spooky needs
I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII
🪦 walpurgis hexes — dark stories to inspire nightmarish creations
I | II | III | IV | V | VI
chaptered stories
🌷 the darkest eyes — ao3 || masterpost || paladibun's art
post-canon, mike-centric, outsider pov, mystery, mental health struggles status: hiatus || progress: 6/21 || 158.9k words
🕰️ the trees are growing restless — ao3 || masterpost
s4 rewrite, groundhog day au, time loop possession, mental health struggles status: hiatus || progress: 3/22 || 51.8k words
🐈‍⬛ maybe i was destined to — ao3 || masterpost (tba)
s5 speculation, witch and familiar au, soulmates, vecna targets mike status: semi-finished || progress: 1/3 || 6,666 words
future stories
🎻 4'33'' — summary
post-s3, reunion, hanahaki-esque, mutism, online friends, will pov status: wip || progress: 0/4
🕊️ sin deep, my darling angel — summary
angel & demon au, strangers to lovers, courting, idiots in love, will pov status: wip || progress: 0/13
💐 how many tears to nurture a rose — summary
flower shop / bookstore au, reunion, childhood friends to lovers, will is a monster status: wip || progress: 0/3
🔪 ...but here is one — summary || snippet (4k words)
serial killer au, runaways, road trip, dubious morality, mental health struggles status: wip || progress: 0.3/20
🚀 telomeres — summary
to the moon au, established relationship, aged-up, growing old together, will pov status: wip || progress: 0/7
🪁 chasing paradise — summary
angel & human au, achromatopsia, little mermaid-esque, side wheelclair status: wip || progress: 0/3
🐐 a sun to his moon — summary
arashi no yoru ni au, goat & wolf hybrids, forbidden love, secret relationship status: wip || progress: 0/7
🍊 au revoir, bien aimée — summary
18th century royalty au, mike is the king, will tries to scam him but falls in love status: wip || progress: 0/3
🔭 the tetris effect — summary
modern fantasy au, will is a star, mike has amnesia, strangers to lovers status: wip || progress: 0/7
🦊 le renard et la rose — summary
fantasy au, will is a witch, mike is a kitsune, enemies to lovers, soulmates status: wip || progress: 0/3
one-shots
🔨 anthropophagy — full story || alt. version || sequel || inspiration
post-s2, dark au, cannibal will, serial killer mike, messed up friends, will pov status: complete || length: 5.1k
🪞 alucinari — full story || inspiration (contains spoilers)
no upside down au, mental health struggles, hurt/comfort, mcd, will pov status: complete || length: 7.5k
🌊 48°52.6′s 123°23.6′w — full story || explanation
canon compliant, mental health struggles, character study, hurt/no comfort status: complete || length: 4.8k
short ideas
🥀 sleep token fics — short byler stories based on songs by my favourite band
general ideas and analysis
📺 media fics — a collection of stories inspired by random movies, shows and video games i enjoy
life is strange .......... idea fear street ................ idea tokyo ghoul ............. idea black butler ............. idea rule of rose .............. idea death stranding ..... idea assassin's creed ..... idea
🎼 song fics — a collection of stories based on random songs i like
der doppelgänger ................... idea naturträne ................................ idea der schauspieler ..................... idea tänzelnd wie flammen ........... idea ein mann und seine seele ..... idea der tod der liebe ………………… idea
🎀 ficlets — small stories that are complete in their current form, or that i'm unsure if i'll expand on
will's 7th birthday ... story | fluffyfangirl's art | fruity-cleric's art werebunny au .......... idea | kuumara's ficlet byers family ............. el loves animals | jonathan needs weed potential stories ...... victorian au | siren & sailor au discarded ideas ....... avatar au | vampire au | birthdaygate
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trupowieszcz-moved · 1 year ago
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serpentide · 2 years ago
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𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄, 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 - 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 ▬▬ it is alluring, its taste always different and existentially addicting, the withered heart within her ribcage only knows the lick of its flames. it is thus unsurprising that she has chosen to abandon an almost perpetual condition of isolation to visit this odd shop, whose colors and scents have not failed in luring the serpentine vixen forward.
achromatic gaze trails curious paths towards her surroundings, capturing even the smallest and feeblest of details in pursuance of carving their features into memory ( so little she knows about the world, everything is both wonder and horror ) .
his impatience tastes bittersweet on her tongue, which solely serves to widen the already mischievous simper that has blossomed across lotus - red tiers. her research is aimless, her presence naught but the glacial kiss of an impalpable ghost. ❝ i am not yet certain of what i want, ❞ chimes in taunting response the jester, voice high - pitched and mellow, the chime of bells at dawn. ❝ maybe you could help me ? i am sure that you know this shop and its products better than i do. ❞
✧・゚ interaction call ( weird group #2 ) ( accepting ) | @serpentide ・゚✧
Many have asked — Why think of the past?
Because it’s the only good that carries him through the present. Keeps him free from the corroded lead that would otherwise weigh each breath.
Why think of the now and the future when nothing good will come of it?
He’s already made his miserly bed, so please — let him lie in it. It’s difficult enough to have duty restrung through corded marble. To wake each day and guard was tiresome as is. Let him find the dying embers of joy that were last found all those centuries ago.
And yet, here he is. Entertaining another soul when his patience has already been worn so thin. "What is it that you want? Tell me and I can help you find it if that means you leave faster."
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bum-scum · 2 years ago
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🎶✨when u get this u have to put 5 songs u actually listen to, publish. then, send this ask/tag 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool) 🎶✨
Thanks @mediocredoots for tagging me :D
 ALL THESE ARE DEATH METAL ( except for Atreyu they are metal from what I know)
1. Fly with me by Brymir 
Also reminds of Atem’s last stand and then being in the puzzle at the end of the song, hearing the dark magic coming to and thus the famous season 0. 
2. Of Beasts and Worms by Allegaeon 
Reminds me of King Thief Bakura wayy too much! 
3. Human Scum by Distant ( WARNING!!!!! MUSIC VIDEO CONTAINS DISTURBING IMAGERY AND SCENES) Which is why I will NOT link it. Thats your warning. 
Anyways its all Kaiba’s inner demons of self hatred of himself of all that reminds me of. 
4. How Many Tears to Nurture a Rose? by Cradle Of Filth  (WARNING!!! MUSIC VIDEO CONTIANS IMAGARY AND SCENES NOT SUITED FOR YOUNG AUDENCES AND LYRICS CONTAIN OF SEXUAL NATURE) this link is the lyric video instead. 
5. When Two Are One by Atreyu.
Reminds of Kaiba and Atem ( prideshipping but in Kaiba’s POV) 
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antonjesus · 28 days ago
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CRADLE OF FILTH - How Many Tears To Nurture A Rose? (OFFICIAL MUSIC VIDEO)
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sea-side-scribbles · 6 months ago
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Solas wakes up in the strange new world of his own making and it terrifies him. Ridden with guilt, he joins the Inquisition and begins his lonely research in order to correct his mistake.
He doesn’t expect to find consolation in the presence of a human who wields ancient elven magic without knowing it. Who is way too gentle for an elgar’thanelan, but doesn’t know that either.
Solas, for his part, doesn’t know how to stay away.
Dorian wonders if the mysterious elf just enjoys playing with a Tevinter. He wouldn’t expect anything else.
_____________________
Chapter 1- 13 | Right after uthenera, Solas is found by a Dalish clan. This goes well until it doesn’t. (Basically my excuse for world building and hilarious misunderstandings.)
Chapter 14 | Solas joins the Inquisition.
Chapter 20 | Dorian appears in Haven.
Chapter 24
Solas' dreams weren't pleasant that night. He wandered in complete darkness, with only his own seeking hands in front of him. They palpated an invisible, cold wall that he followed, nurturing the unsettling feeling that he knew where it led, but he couldn't name it. His mind was as clouded as the fade. He had company. Something trailed him. At first, it was only a tickle behind his ear, but it manifested, slithering and smacking against the wall with many heavy bodies. Every time they hit, he felt the tremor under his fingers, coming closer. He didn't run, even though his shaking muscles screamed at him to do so. There was a thrill he couldn't deny. All these arms crawling into his direction, their claws scratching the wall.
Then he remembered. His feet stopped. He couldn't move, but did he even want to? The noise swell. Now the arms drew so close, he could sense them circle him. They rose, slowly and heavily, and he knew their razor sharp tips pointed directly at him. He closed his eyes, hearing only his own breath, waiting for the impact. They struck with an earsplitting screech, hungry to tear his flesh from his bones.
He screamed out as he woke up, gasping and sweating, the pelts damp around his body. Clutching his shoulders, he made sure his flesh was still on his body. When he noticed he was alright, he sunk back down on the bed. Soon after, he heard a frantic knock on his door. “Solas? Solas, are you alright? Solas?” He clenched his teeth. Of all people, it had to be the Tevinter. Judging by how fiercely he knocked, Solas supposed he wouldn't let this go. Reluctantly, he left the bed and went to the door, glad he had secured it. “I am fine, Dorian”, he shouted through the closed door. “Go back to sleep.” The knocking stopped. “Are you sure?”, the Tevinter asked, obviously stunned. Solas sighed. “Yes, I of course I am sure.” “I heard you...I mean I think I heard you...” Now Dorian questioned himself. He had woken up from a very bad feeling. A scream, he had assumed, but he wasn't so certain now. But what else could it have been?
“May you open the door to prove it?” “I do not have anything to prove to you, Dorian. Why do you wake me up in the middle of the night and demand admittance?” “Because I...I'm worried.” With a heavy heart, Solas gave in, just so that the insufferable man wouldn't alarm the whole village. He opened the door, leaned against the frame and regarded Dorian with a dismissive look. Dorian caught a glance of the elf's naked upper body before he quickly turned his head away. He was obviously alright. “I am sorry. I don't know what came over me”, he said to the houses behind him. Solas watched him plod back to his house, surprised that he let the matter go so quickly. Perhaps the man was too tired to care.
Shutting the door, he pressed his forehead against it. This should not have happened. He dearly needed to shield himself better. That Breach made it all more complicated, but he should have known that. Gulping down his anger, he crawled under the pelts.
The next morning, he got up early. The beauty of the sunrise was lost to him, since he hurried in order to not risk any unwanted meetings. He suspected the mages would get up early as well, for they had to work on their camp. It turned out he was right. When he met them, they were quietly chatting and sipping coffee. Others just got up. It was the cozy atmosphere before another busy day. He entered the camp tense and worried, but their friendly greetings lightened up his mood. He knew most of them by name: Mabel, Alaric, Sybyl, Connor, Lysas... Most of them had been forced to join a Circle as children and in the face of adversity, they had found a new family here. They welcomed him as one of their own. He chatted with them and soon found a mug of coffee in his hands.
Only when the Herald appeared, barely standing out between other Circle robes, he abandoned his comfy spot. There was something else he needed to get off his chest before she would be too busy to listen. She was studying a scroll in her hand as he approached her. “Herald, may I have a word with you?” She winced at the word “Herald”, but said: “Of course. What is it?” “Can we speak somewhere more private?” She nodded, then let him lead the way. He went out of the tent and further to the fence until he was sure nobody could overhear them. When he turned around, he saw her look on him, searching. She always looked as if she tried to read him but failed. A little wary, too.
Solas crossed his arms behind his back. “I meant to apologize to you, Herald. When we first met, you did not have my trust. I had trouble believing that a Dalish elf cared enough for the Conclave to attend it in person, only to see the outcome. I did not understand the threat this war means to your clan and I should have known better than that. You have been all but generous to the people in need and you gave the rebels a chance. I hope I can make it up to you by standing beside you in this fight.” When he finished, she was quiet. He lowered his head, awaiting her answer, certain she wouldn't forgive him easily.
Ellana, however, was out of words. She had expected a report about the camp's status or a complaint, but not this. From the elf who dressed up as a monster, enjoyed the act of blasphemy, left out no opportunity to mock Dalish customs, doubted her innocence and always seemed to look down at her.
More and more, she wondered if this was really her fate. If the creators wanted her in this place. Borders she had thought to be insuperable seemed to fall apart just for her. Her shemlen companions warmed up to her – if they've been hostile at all. Even the almighty Knight Commander Cullen stuttered like a shy boy when she complimented him. Her ambassador Josephine Montilyet was always sweet. Unbelievable she had round ears. The Seeker acted more uptight and stern, but they had already broken the ice in Val Royeaux, at Vivenne de Fer's salon. Ellana had insisted to bring her, an actual shemlen noble, to what she had thought would be usual routine. But the Nevarran princess had been just as uncomfortable as her. They had been the oddest pair. Despite her serious efforts to do it all right, Ellana was certain she wouldn't have survived the event without Cassandra's dry comments.
And then there was Varric, who had one day just showed up with a gift, saying that he knew a few of her customs because he had a Dalish friend. He had given her a sal'shiral'un. Its first bead featured a flaming eye - the Inquisition. Varric had apologized, saying it surely didn't match a real one, but if she liked, she could use it as a memento for her life here. They could add more beads over time, so she had a full necklace at the end. Blackwall would help. He had already helped with the first bead – he was the better wood carver. Varric had been all nervous and embarrassed about it while Ellana had fought for her self-control. She had thanked him more stiffly than intended, then hastened away to let the tears out unseen. She wore Varric's necklace now. Her own had remained with her clan. Probably finished with the mark of death, because she did not come back from the Conclave.
Suddenly, Ellana had friends here. Only her elven companions had been her greatest rivals. It had hurt, but now even this seemed to change. She gulped down all boiling emotions for her answer.
“I...have to apologize as well”, she said carefully. “I've seen how Mihris treated you. No Dalish elf should treat another elf like that, no matter if they come from the city or from another clan. I didn't see your perspective, even though I know some clans have...different opinions on city elves...or strays.” Solas blinked. He hadn't expected an apology in return. “Which clan?”, she asked tilting her head. There was a pause before Solas replied: “You assume I come from a clan?” “You have lived in one for sure. You speak our language.” “There are other places to learn the Elvhen language than the Dalish clans.” “Oh...I thought city elves forgot about it?” “They could say the same about you. Most of the Dalish only remember a few phrases, save for the Keepers, probably. You know these secrets better than me, Keeper's First.” He said it without his usual judging tone. Ellana couldn't believe how soft his voice was. Awkwardly, she rubbed the back of her neck. “I guess that's something else I didn't know about other elves.” “But you are listening.” It hurt how surprised he sounded. “Yes. So...I should say...I accept your apology”, she concluded with a smile. “So do I.” In a beautiful moment, they smiled at each other.
A thought nudged Ellana. “You wouldn't take off that cloak, wouldn't you?”, she asked, hoping she didn't go too far. Solas lifted an eyebrow dangerously high. “Why?” “Because it doesn't match you!”, she blurted out. “I don't know why you put an effort into looking like you don't care about others. Or why you're tempting your fate like that. I've been with you long enough. You're not reckless. You stood up for the mages when no one else did. You took the responsibility nobody else wanted. You gave them comfort and it's because of you that they have a chance to close the Breach. In combat, you don't hesitate to protect others. In the Hinterlands, you never complained when I took the scenic route so help refugees. This costume...” She gestured towards him. “...this isn't you.” There was another pause and Solas' face became unreadable. Ellana's heart sunk, guessing that she stirred up a hornet's nest. Bracing herself, she held his gaze when he merely whispered: “....thank you.” He sounded so gloomy. It hurt her again.
“I am sorry that I made you shun me and risk your life. You travelled to Redcliffe without me. What if you needed help with the mark? You were without protection.” Ellana couldn't look at him anymore. She eyed her hand instead. She never got used to the sight, no matter how often she tried. “It was very quiet these days”, she said, moving her fingers. “I never properly thanked you for it.” “Understandable. My methods scared you. I am sorry I needed to be so...indiscrete.” “It was uncomfortable to be watched in my sleep, yes. But I'm glad to be alive.” Carefully, she gave him another smile. Solas smiled back. “I want to make sure you stay alive.” “And I will do the same for you.” They smiled again. Ellana was certain she needed to change the topic before she broke out into sappy tears and did something inappropriate.
“Is there anything else you want to apologize for?”, she playfully asked. “Is there something else bothering you about me?”, he asked not quite seriously either. She pretended to think hard, tapping her chin. “Uh...not at the moment.” “Do not hesitate to tell me if that changes.” “Oh, you will regret those words...”, she teased and looked back at her scroll. “Anyway, how about we proceed with these plans? Before Cullen is back at our throats again?” “Good idea.”
They meant to bury themselves into their work, both glad about the outcome, when someone caught Ellana's glance. “Oh, there's Dorian! Dorian, over here!” She waved him over. Solas loathly granted him a glance. Now he regretted mocking the Tevinter for his laziness. To his defence, he hadn't expected him to come here just because an elf complained. Perhaps he wasn't here for hard work, though. Perhaps he was just looking for his favourite subject.
“How are you doing?”, the Herald asked him way too happily for an elf meeting a Tevinter. “Ah, well enough, despite the persistent cold, the dry air and...the snow in my boots...” He wasn't ashamed to complain. Solas hoped he was suffering. “Aww, I'd have a few tasks for you that'll keep you warm, if you don't mind.” “Honestly, I hoped so.” Solas held back a disgusted noise. What a shameless liar he was. Also, he didn't like how they looked at each other. They were too close. Her flirting tone and his insufferable smirk. Solas turned his head and stared at the plans.
Ellana, however, was beyond being surprised by Dorian Pavus. It felt like ages ago that she had feared for him to break into her room at night, cut her throat and do something unspeakable to her blood. Dorian was another person the creators destined her to meet. Him trying to help just made sense to her. She pointed at a part on the map that still needed supplies and explained her plan. She concluded with: “Why don't you and...Solas take care about it?” A pause ensued when the two men barely looked at each other. “I see no problem here”, Dorian spoke first.
So, Solas found himself expected to leave his place in the council to do minor tasks with a Tevinter who just showed up and did nothing so far but fluttering his eyelashes? Charming. The Herald still had to learn how to respect her allies. Alas, he nodded. “Let us go”, he said into Dorian's direction.
Ellana noticed the cold between them and assumed that it was the same cold she had felt when she first met the Tevinter. Now, seeing them together, she was more worried about Dorian than about Solas. But after all, Solas wouldn't warm up to him unless they worked together, so she sent them off without hesitation.
The two went to their destination in silence. Solas didn't feel like starting a conversation. Of course, Dorian eventually began. “I get the persistent feeling that you're not delighted to see me here, Solas. I thought you wanted me to lend a hand?” Solas almost sighed. This man needed to learn subtlety. Or not, because he managed to annoy him anyway. “Quite the opposite. I do think you should help. You did right.” “Then it must be something else I did wrong. Is it about last night?” Solas did not want to talk about this. “You woke me up for no reason, but I am not resentful. Perhaps it is your own bad conscience that is speaking to you?” At that, the Tevinter fell quiet and didn't speak for a long time. Solas suppressed a smirk. Should it be so easy to get under his skin?
Dorian instead hardly recovered from the blow. Why would he have a bad conscience? Did Solas blame it all on him? As if he was the type to molest random hobos in shredded clothes! Now that he walked right next to Solas in daylight, he saw the elf's whole – glory. “Clothes” was an exaggeration. His coat looked as if it was made right of the dirty furs in his bed – well, let's not think about the bed – and would fall apart any second. Who with any self-respect would wear such an ensemble anyway? Perhaps the body underneath was in better shape, but to get there, one needed to dig through piles of dirt first. No thank you. He couldn't have been that drunk.
He was about to shout at the elf, but instead stomped the snow under his boots harder than it deserved. He knew how this would end. He saw it more often than he should have and he had promised himself to spare himself the shame. So he silenced. At least he could assume that his visit in the camp wasn't the reason for Solas' open hostility. It was simply how the elf would treat him now – forever. A sigh escaped him. Wasn't certainty a wonderful feeling.
They picked up the supplies, used spells to float the crates along with them and marched away just as quietly as they came. Solas really struggled not to laugh. The stomping, the sigh. He almost felt bad for the man. He really needed to do better than that if he wanted to get to him. Dorian dwelled in anger, until - “Careful!” A blue light flashed past him. Dorian staggered backwards and almost dropped the crates. Looking to the left, he found one of them frozen. “You set it on fire!” Dorian turned his head to look right into the elf's sneering face. Solas now couldn't hold back any longer. He fought though, chuckling quietly. Dorian quietly moved on, enduring it. Solas had to avert his gaze. The Tevinter's face made it much worse. Other mages gave them puzzled looks. Dorian instead focused on melting the ice. Soon, it looked like nothing happened, if one ignored the sneering elf. Now he just waited to get this over with. Solas enjoyed the silence, certain that he won this round.
When they deposed the supplies by a group of soldiers that set up a tent, Solas suddenly left to greet Fiona who conveniently walked by. Dorian used the opportunity to go back to Ellana without him. She didn't like that they had split up, it was visible in her expression, but she didn't comment on it. Dorian was dearly grateful for her. She wouldn't put salt into his wounds. She let him join another party of mages and Solas didn't cross his path again. Something else happened instead. One of the Enchanters eventually took him aside and asked him if he was alright. Not in a friendly way.
“The Breach is getting to you, right? You look all worked up. Next second you set something on fire.” Dorian had trouble containing himself. “That's a harsh accusation, don't you think? What gives you that idea?” He noticed that his tone didn't support his words, though. “The templars are just waiting for one of us to misstep! You get that fixed or you leave!” “You're not allowed to have emotions in this place? This is ridiculous?” “Look, go find Solas. He should be in the central tent with the Herald now. He'll give you a treatment.” Dorian would rather be skinned alive than let the vengeful elf give him a treatment . “I assure you, it's not necessary, I am fine.” The mage pointed behind him. “Get out.” “Really?” “Out or Solas.” “Alright then. It was nice to meet you.” Dorian took a deep breath and helped himself out. If only he had listened to his own advice. He had known the camp would be trouble. And why did he show up still? Because Solas said so. As if he couldn't make himself useful in another way. In a way that meant not meeting this elf any time soon.
Notes:
sal'shiral'un: “life cord” (made of the words "sal'shiral" and "lestun"): a necklace with beads or other decorative elements that symbolize a Dalish elf's life. Every elf receives it at birth with the first symbol. The clan keeps the amulets to memorize their ancestors and retell the old stories.
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jimmymosworld · 7 months ago
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