#Let me become free from the shackles of a mortal body | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rose-tea-and-strawberries · 1 year ago

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𝖎𝖌𝖓𝖎𝖙𝖊

AKA: this one quote from Book!Frollo made my mind go crazy.

Yes, I was listening to “It's A Dangerous Game” from the Jekyll and Hyde Original Concept Recording

(also, please forgive my Latin, I used google translate)

Reader/Yuu is female and has hair (which is implied to be long)

Masterlist

It was mesmerising, how perfectly your bodies melded and moved together, how easily and harmoniously you were brought to a hitherto unknown rapture. To be caught up in such a state, where you were free of the chains that bound you to the horrors of purgatory and had ascended you to heights you had never felt before, to feel him guiding you to a place where you had never even begun to dream about.

Minutes had passed since the twelfth ring of the Bell of Solace yet the two of you stayed in your tower, pressed against a shadowed alcove, away from everyone and everything, your hands wandering and blood singing as the rest of the city drifted off into their fanciful visions of the dusk.

With the Witching Hour descending upon you, veiling you in the covers of the night, you only had the stars and the spirits above as witnesses to this tryst, your secrets laid bare for their silent judgement.

But their judgement didn’t matter, nor did your schoolmates’, if the silent covenant between you and him were to be obeyed, if the unvoiced sermon in blue flickers that glowed against the scorching green of his eyes that seared into you as he took a lock of your hair and pressed it against his lips were to be acknowledged.

His cold touch, like fire, burning your figure as it trailed across your face, your neck, your shoulder before settling on your waist, pulling you closer - long, chilling fingers burned along your skin, setting ablaze every thought, every word, every semblance of rationality.

“Pulchra,” you could feel his voice against your mouth, wafting and caressing like tendrils of smoke, sonorous to your ears, “puella pulchra, so pure, so perfect. Like a goddess in mortal form.”

You could do nothing but listen, to submit to the dark velvet of his dulcet tones, to close your eyes and let this fiery passion incinerate and eradicate the demons that plagued you. Ordinarily, you’d be against this, to let your shackled hands hand the reins of your petering control to another, but his providence proved otherwise. With your destiny enshrouded in so much unknown, the danger of staying and the risk of fleeing your perennial torment in the clutches of your captors yet with Rollo before you, you felt at peace.

Fate, free-will, nothing mattered in this sanctuary he created.

His conviction begets your reprieve, his resolution ameliorates your soul from the horrors that had stained it with their inky fingerprints. The singing brushes of his fingertips cleansed you, and like a blazing phoenix, you emerged anew.

With both great reluctance and great desperation his lips left yours and made their home at the apse of your neck, whispers of orisons against your skin, your name an endless epiclesis.

Even with your sight inhibited, you could see the worship in his gaze, through the reverence in his touch, the cardinal way he regarded you in every action. His hands gentle yet formidable as they kept you against him, the golden shank of his ruby ring digging into you with the pads of his fingers.

“I wanted to see you again,” his deep timbre, dark, soft and smoky against your ears, “touch you, know who you were, see if I would find you identical with the ideal image of you which had remained with me and perhaps shatter my dream with the aid of reality.”

“And?” you hear yourself say, too lost in the fiery haze, too blinded by the flaming reds and golden ambers that danced under your eyes.

“At all events, I hoped that a new impression would efface the first, for the first had become intolerable to me. I sought you, Prefect, again to behold you. When I had seen you twice, I wished to see you a thousand more times, to always have you in my sight. You claim to be magicless, Angelum Meum, yet you have completely bewitched me. With you, I’m no longer my own master. You’ve become my salvation from perdition, shown me the true meaning of righteous. Please, I say in obsecration, grant me the blessing of speaking your benediction, of proving how far my devotion runs. Let me be your acolyte, your protector against the tainted crowd.”

His lips pressed against the apples of your cheeks, his hands on your waist, the fury of the flames within you.

It’s dangerous. But this fire won’t char you, won’t scar you, won’t leave you tearstained and broken.

It emboldens you, ignites the snuffed out hearth within you.

You nod once, a small jut of your chin through the keening of your throat and you slowly feel the ribbon of your nightdress tugged loose before it falls and pools at the ground at your feet.

#twst #twisted wonderland #rollo flamme x reader #rollo flamm #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #fem reader

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lampmanliveblogs · 7 months ago

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(i watched a few seconds further than this screenshot implies and saw Fake!Augustus push Luz down into a pit)

Fake!Augustus calls Luz a hypocrite, citing how everyone helped her get back home to her mom (even though they were doing that before the Day of Unity and once it became clear that DoU was major bad news, Luz stopped her attempts to get back to the human Realm to try and prevent it), but now (supposedly) because of her, Gus will never get to see his father again. Meanwhile, a group of people, students and teachers at Hexside, with their faces shrouded by heavy shadows, watch on��

Befitting of Gus, the showman illusionist, this takes place on a stage in front of a large crowd. The confrontations with Fake!Amity and Fake!Willow were private, but Fake!Augustus is loudly accusing Luz for all the world to see and hear.

Luz stammers out a weak proclamation, that she won’t stop until she’s saved everyone, at which point Fake!Augustus pushes her over the edge to meet ”him.”

It’s gonna be Hunter, isn’t it?

Called it, Hunter was next on the list.

And with a giant statue of Flapjack in the distance, body cracked and broken, a not so subtle reminder of a wound that is still open and fresh. A life that Luz was unable to save.

Wait… is it just me or did the animation suddenly go super smooth? Why are we getting sakuga of Hunter crying on the floor? When I’m crying on the floor, it never looks this good.

(speaking of things being high-quality, Zeno Robinson, is, as per usual, great as Hunter. the grief and rage in his voice… mwah!)

Fake!Hunter brings up how (and I’ve talked about this before) how before he met Flapjack, he never ever considered disobeying orders or have any rebellious thoughts. But when he met Flapjack (and also Luz, but let’s ignore that) and the bird palisman became his best friend, he started becoming a more free individual. This culminated in him finally being freed from his shackles to Belos… only for Belos to return and use Hunter’s own hand to mortally wound Flapjack. Now Flapjack is gone, with all that remains is a sliver of magic power within Hunter.

And Luz? She gets her own palisman, her own lifelong companion to be by her side through the hardest trial of her life.

This point about how Luz ”gets to have it all” is similar to what Gus brought up just a moment ago.

(Future Lampman here: Past Lampman forgot to bring this up, but each place we see these confrontations take place in is significant. Fake!Amity showing up at the bridge to the castle is similar to Eda showing up to challenge Lilith in Agony of a Witch, Luz encounters Fake!Willow in a forest that looks almost exactly like Willow’s mindscape from Understanding Willow, and Fake!Augustus on the stage is likely a callback to Enchanting Grom Fright. As for this scene… I’m not sure actually. I don’t think it’s a callback to any specific scene, more so just to Hunter’s upbringing in the castle.)

You and me both Luz. ”Witches’ Battle?” That’s not what that’s been called before. Saaaaayyyyy… do you think something weird might be going on like, oh, I dunno… your friends not acting like themselves???

Luz: ”You… look like Amity. You feel like Amity…”

Luz: ”But you don’t smell like Amity. Seriously, we really need to get you a deodorant you’re not allergic to. Come to think of it, how come the Boiling Isles have their own version of the internet, yet you people never invented deodorant? Wireless communication is no problem, but some perfume under your armpits is beyond even the mightiest of witches!?”

#the owl house #liveblog #the owl house liveblog #toh s3e3 #watching and dreaming

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incognosis · 2 years ago

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@ragingtdes: to be rid of the god who possesses his body for but a few days had become a reprieve, and yet, it doesn't feel it. a month now it had been, childe's hotel room littered with ancient text of both human and adepti origin to find some sliver of hope. he needed to be extracted from, the dying god was a cesspool of rage and sorrow, trapped in a body already too crowded to function right. osial's rage on top of childe's misery meant that he only rose from his bed, cleaned and presented himself when zhongli came to visit, and even then keeping up his cheerful facades would be momentary at best. the whisper of osial's will and his memories available for childe's perusing in times such as these were tempting, a break from the monotony of pages and pages of research. ' maybe it would have made me go insane too - ' childe looked up from his position on the settee, dark blue eyes framed with the growing scales brought on by possession. there was something intense there, born of longing, hints of anger, something dispaired, and heartbroken. childe held the former archon's gaze, longer than he had all these weeks. the rain beat down against the windows outside, and childe looked away, gills fluttering weakly. ' - to be loved by you. ' i might have turned out like him, like osial. ' good thing you don't, huh ? '

in all his eons of existence, morax had encountered numerous a painful situation - conundrums that would drive a mortal man mad with their dilemmas. and all that time, his decisions had been swift and impartial - judgments called upon in the name of contracts and the lord of geo's own stalwart divinity. the last contract to, had come at a price of conundrum - the relinquishing of his gnosis to the tsarista right beneath the nose of man his stone heart had hewn a crack of gold for. zhongli had told himself, when he saw that look on childe's haggard face as he passed his key to the heavens to signora's hands, he had told himself that this was the last one. this was the last time he'd let godhood get in the way of what guizhong had described as 'feelings.'

it was supposed to be over then. childe was to be free of the shackles of an ex archon's attention and all the mess that came with it. he would return to snezhnaya and in the wake of osial's attack, zhongli's life in liyue would turn to normalcy. he should've known better, of course. old gods were vengeful creatures; zhongli would know. he technically was one.

it'd been raining for days and days, liyue's mountain springs and lakes swelling with burgeoned sky water and the silkflowers wilting under the endless onslaught. the only reprieve was the younger's rare bouts of good moods, and even then zhongli felt the sunshine was too brief, and missed the ability to control that too, at his whim. still - this was not about him. he'd learned that rather quickly. learned that when the body of the harbinger that had begun to tug at his affections had been so conveniently hijacked by a vengeful ex-lover, and put zhongli right back in one of his never ending conundrums. from that moment on, he'd been looking like a man possessed, even going so far as to enlist the assistance of many of his adepti to hunt down the secrets of this world. osial had taken up residence in something the lord of geo could not help but feel was his - and thusly, another war was on.

but there was no battle today. not as that rain poured and he sat across from childe in the dim hotel room. texts are scattered about them, unorganized yet carefully maintained. zhongli sits on the floor, clawed fingertips (his gloves and jacket are gone, sleeves rolled up, ready to fight at a moment's notice if needed) running along the frayed parchment of a scroll older the entirety of childe's blood line. words catch his attention, and cor lapis hues - fringed in impossibly dark eyelashes and blood red tattoos - raise to meet abyssal depths on reflex. not for the first time - the look in those eyes frightens him, so different from what he knows, and as they've been slowly plumed by familiar scales... there's an ancient tug at his heart, memories of a bygone era of times spent with another voracious lover. the old and the new, fracturing a stone heart into tiny little pieces... osial had picked his host well. too well.

the words - they hurt. they hurt more than any battle wound, more than any loss or despair. the line of gold that had hewn across his stone heart cracks in a way he can swear is audible. for once, unreadable features - they flinch, and he feels the breath leaves him in one unending whoosh, punched out of his lungs like a fist to his gut. zhongli stares up at the harbinger - his future, his past - with eyes so akin to being fractured, it feels as if another chasm has begun to yawn between them.

no, no, no, no, no-

his on his feet in an instant, standing faster than the eye can perceive. he's before the settee now, bending towards childe's person - so close to the end of his pony tail droops between them, and drags across the harbinger's chest like the tail of some great beast. " do not listen to him. " he murmurs, soothing baritone lit with the commanding presence of a deity used to being listened to. he shoves it all away - or tries to - the flood of guilt, of memories of where he had wronged the god of the vortex and childe too. he replaces it instead with a firm grasp to childe's chin, clawed grip gentle and veins of geo pulsating in delight at the contact of flesh - despite the circumstances.

" look at me, childe. " he breathes out, the strange pupils of his eyes slitting further. propriety, possessive, pained. " look. " is this the face of a man - a god - who cares for you naught? " focus on me, and breathe. " to be a mortal loved by a god is to already have courted insanity and chosen it's affections; to die a thousand little deaths over and over again in the wake of possession so deep and bone-chilling, ancient scriptures could not divine the sensation. to be a mortal loved by morax - it is akin to courting the sun, and allowing oneself to be consumed to ashes.

yet this time - zhongli finds - perhaps it is them both that shall go up in divine flame.

#ragingtdes #— ❛❛ // ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ.— ⌜ answered ⌟#classic goose replying to nine behavior: 5 paragraphs of pagony #YOU WOKE UP THIS MORNING AND CHOSE VIOLENCE #— ❛❛ // ʙʟᴏᴏᴅꜱᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ᴡᴀꜱʜɪɴɢ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴠᴇꜱ. — ⌜ verse iv. crimson tides ⌟

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initialchains · 1 year ago

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all the stars (are closer) | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: a deep dive into luke’s mind and how he’d balance the love he has for his girlfriend and his anger towards the gods. (set during new year’s eve!)

wc: 1.7k (sorry ik this is short)

warnings: book spoilers and hints of a relationship becoming toxic. HEAVILY IMPLIED NSFW

a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR !! starting off the year with mister castellan bcs im pretty sure that’s the best way to do it. i’ve always wanted to write a fic that also works as a bit of a study-ish of the character’s mind soo this is was extremely exciting to write <3 i hope you all have an amazing 2024 !!! 🎊💌

Luke was sure the stars always shone the brightest when no one was gazing at them—or at least they did when only a small number of people were paying attention to the celestial bodies glistening in the dark sky. He didn’t have any factual evidence to prove this theory, but he assumes the sight in front of him is enough proof of said hypothesis.

The multicolored bright fireworks lit up the North Woods and illuminated your silhouette in an almost otherworldly way. He might even believe you weren’t just a mere demigod, but one of the many façades Aphrodite possessed when she took on a human form. He sometimes wondered if he was one of the historical Greek heroes from Chiron’s stories in his past life because he couldn’t believe the luck he had, having a girlfriend with the beauty and gentleness of a goddess but with the heart and kindness of a mortal.

You were the perfect example of what being a demigod meant. His eyes traveled all over your body, noticing the way you let your hair down for the annual New Year’s fireworks show in Camp Half-Blood. Even Mr. D was kind enough to let the campers wear the “fancy” clothes they had stashed in the attic of the Big House, freeing them from the shackles of always wearing bright orange shirts. (Luke noticed how this freedom didn’t come from the kindness of his heart, but from Silena getting him a bottle of non-alcoholic white wine.)

He couldn’t believe he was the only one looking at you during this moment. Everyone was too busy complimenting their siblings and friends’ outfits or sharing their New Year’s Resolutions, but all he could focus on was your bright smile and white dress.

The dress was handpicked by Silena herself, at least that’s what you told him when you knocked on Luke’s door and greeted him with a “Before you say anything, you must know I didn’t want to wear it but it was Silena’s New Year’s wish, which I’m sure is something she made up on the spot. Please tell me I don’t look terrible, Castellan.”

Luke’s mouth went dry. His heart beating in a fast way that only happened when he was 1) fighting for his life or 2) trying to speak while the love of his life looked like an angel sent down from heaven. That’s what you are—one of God’s most special creations.

He never considered himself to be a religious person, especially not when his father was a Greek god. But if there truly was a God ruling over a perfect paradise in the heavens, he must’ve carved you just for Luke to admire.

“You look beautiful. You always do, baby.” He said after finally finding the strength to find the right words, but even the small sentence he muttered wasn’t enough to encapsulate what he meant. He wanted to say your beauty would put Aphrodite to shame or that looking at you felt like getting trampled on by a Laestrygonian or that the shining sparks he could see in your eyes made you living proof of perfection existing and he couldn’t believe the luck he has to call you his.

“You’re just saying that because I’m your girlfriend”, you answered with a bright blush adorning your face. Luke took notice of how adorable you looked when he made the red color rush into your cheeks.

“I’m just saying that because not a single goddess in Mount Olympus could ever come close to the beauty you possess. But sure, whatever floats your boat, angel.”

“See? And now you’re just being corny… gods, you’re lucky I’m in love with you.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m extremely aware I am the lucky one here.”

“Shut the hell up, it’s annoying when you act like a poet. Just act like a Hermes child for once, please”, you replied with an eye roll but the bright smile you had gave away what you truly felt.

“I snuck out of camp and stole the suit I’ll be wearing tonight. Is that enough of a Hermes child activity for you?”

Chiron decided to hang fairy lights in the trees of the forest and the wood nymphs were happy to comply, after all, they’d do anything to clean up nicely for once. The campers were spread out through camp, some decided to stay in the dining pavilion, others were laying on picnic blankets in the amphitheater, and the rest were walking around while they kept their eyes on the sky, gazing at the fireworks the Hephaestus kids lit up.

Luke wasn’t looking at them, though. He was looking at you, you were all he could focus on. He was sure that even if Kronos changed his mind on the spot and got him killed at this exact moment, Luke wouldn’t have cared. He would’ve been happy to die knowing you were the last thing he ever set his eyes on. The last and only person to ever truly have his heart.

He loves you. That wasn’t ever in doubt, he knows, you know, every single camper knows he is head over heels for you. But that’s not all there is to it, there are numerous things underneath the love he holds for you. He would die for you, he would live for you, he would kill for you. He would start a new world, a better one for you. What is love if not letting the king of the Titans rise just to get the chance to live a normal life with the love of his life—the love of his soul?

What is love if not going behind his little sister’s back and stealing Zeus’s master bolt to help her get a better life? A life without the gods, a life without the immeasurable grief they went through after Thalia’s death. A life where Annabeth would finally get to be a kid, a life where the outside world doesn’t feel like the moon.

He can’t help but wonder about the events that are bound to happen five months from now. At this moment everyone is happy, looking at the fireworks lighting up the night sky above them and preparing themselves for the year that’s about to begin, completely oblivious to the chaos that is prone to happen.

What would you do? Would you join him? He likes to believe you will. He likes to think about those hushed whispers of “I would follow you anywhere,” and “I was put on this earth to find you,” muttered through tangled limbs and slow thrusts. He wants to have faith in you, he wants to believe you’ll do the right thing. You’ll join him, you must.

Or maybe it was all a deception. Maybe you weren’t thinking straight when you promised you’d follow him anywhere and everywhere. Maybe you were too drunk on the kisses he was leaving on your neck, while he was drunk on the feeling of your pulse quickening at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

“Luke,” it was always his name you’d beg for in between your ruffled sheets and the thick walls of your room in the city. You never begged for the gods, you never gave them a second thought. You were his in the dark of the night under the light of the stars and all you asked for was more of him, more of what only he could give you. The gods could never love you the way he does, no one could.

He knows you’ve never begged for them, never cried out their name while you felt a temporary ecstasy take all over your body as you become one with your boyfriend. You’re not stupid, you could never go against him and he knows you never will.

Luke’s eyes are completely set on you, watching closely as you take quick strides from your place near the lake, making your way to him. Are you sure you’re not the second coming of Aphrodite?

“Hey.”

“Hi, baby. Listen—“ his sentence was cut off by the loud cheers of the campers, dryads, and wood nymphs counting down for the new year.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

“Wait, Luke, quick! Make a wish!”

Seven.

Six.

“What?”

“A wish, Luke. Make a wish, it can be anything. Don’t worry too much about it.”

Five.

Four.

Three.

“Fuck, that’s a lot of pressure.”

Two.

One.

Luke was quick to press his lips to yours, tasting the cherry flavor they always had. More fireworks erupted and he could hear distant screams of “Happy New Year!” coming from the campers near him, but all he could focus on was you.

He brought his hands up to your cheeks and pulled you in closer, humming when you let out a surprised moan at the feeling of his hungry lips devouring yours as if this was his last night alive. Feeling a heat not even Hephaestus could control, a fire he could never produce—one only Luke could.

He could give you everything the gods refused to.

You pulled away when you felt your lungs being seconds from giving out. Luke kept his hands on your cheeks, leaning his forehead against yours and closing his eyes.

“What did you wish for?” you breathe out, trying to catch your breath. Luke stayed silent for a few seconds, finding pride in the knowledge of him being the reason why the oxygen left your lungs.

“For more stars,” he answered in a small murmur before leaning in to press a kiss on your forehead. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against him, your body—in a second nature—was quick to answer and wrap your arms around his neck, laying your head against his chest.

“Happy New Year, baby.”

Luke wished for more stars. Maybe every star he sees will turn his true wish into a reality. Maybe if he wishes upon every star he encounters… you will never leave him.

Maybe you’ll stay by his side when the simple act of loving him becomes an act of defiance.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #magnolia’s fics!

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thewheezingwyvern · 4 years ago

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Heres a challenge. Pixie/fairy Dabi, or even angel dabi! Something uncharacteristic for his personality xD

Oooh Nons lemme tell you I had a blast with this one. Tickled my brain just write that I was able to just bang this out in a few hours. Gotta give a shout out to @trafalgar-temptress for helping me brainstorm on this. Really helped me get my creative juices flowing juuuuuuuuust right.

ℍ𝕒𝕚𝕝 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕪

Yandere!Angel!Dabi x F!Reader

Kinks/Warnings: Noncon (implied and groping), imprisonment, kidnapping, nudity

As you can see by the warnings this is dark adult content. Minors DNI.

The first time you had ever seen him, it was next to Shouto and the most striking thing about him was his eyes. Brilliant hued sapphires that were more vivid than the sky. Ethereal almost. But every time thereafter they seemed to glow a little brighter. A little darker. A little less holy in their shine. They were almost too much to look at, blinding as they were bathed in sacred light. Shouto especially. Even his feathers shone almost like mirrors catching and magnifying the moon’s rays until they were searing.

But Touya, his light was more muted. Still bright but easier for your eyes to handle. That should have been a sign to you, for the easier an angel is to look at, the farther from grace he has become. And Shouto’s older brother became easier and easier to watch with every passing meeting. By the time you learned the truth about him it was already far too late.

The first time he saw you, it was hatred that pulsed through him. Always the favored one, you were just one more pretty thing that his brother got to have. Another way that Shouto was “better” than him. Thoughts of murder curled in the front of his mind, watching your broken mortal body fracture beneath his rage until you were nothing but a splintered wreck for Shouto to see. Until he noticed that you looked at him far more than his perfect sibling. That was the single drop of poison that bloomed in the wine, steeping him in more greed, lust and envy than he had ever tasted before.

In a way, you were the final shove to Touya’s fall.

The crashing sound of tumultuous waves against a rocky face was the first thing to greet you when you woke. Brine and breeze drifted in and wrapped around your prone form huddled under a thin blanket. The air was filled with a moan, a mournful howl that seemed to be crying for you as you stirred. You were no longer at home in the safety of your own bed, that was apparent when you drew more into consciousness and found yourself curled on a pile of thick pillows. But the detail that struck to your heart that you weren’t home was what you saw first.

Golden bars inlaid with pearl.

They wove intricately into a gorgeous dome, twisting into a cage to keep you confined as the ocean crashed in the background. Beyond the confines of your prison you could see the open mouth of a cave that you had been tucked away into, one that opened out to face the wide open sea. Even from your spot tucked back in the corner you could tell that it was far too high for you to risk jumping even if you did manage to escape your cage. Your prison should have been a dank, dark and wet place but there were braziers placed in various nooks, burning with holy fire to help sheath the cave in a warmth that kept it cozy.

Lanterns were strung into the roof, also flickering with sacred fire to help ward off the damp. There was even some chairs, a plush rug and an exquisite tapestry strung up on the far rocky wall. Had you not been locked up, silver shackles also twisted around your ankles to further trap you, you might have enjoyed this space as a little hide away from the world. There wasn’t much to do since you were alone and the cage was far too strong for you to force open on your own. So all you could do was wait.

When the sun was sinking beyond the line of the horizon, Touya finally appeared. A dark glee curled in his chest when he saw the sheer look of relief that washed over your face when you caught sight of him. Already he could taste the hope bursting from you, a sweet little treat for him to savor before he got to rip it from your grasping hands. You collapsed against the cage, fingers wrapping against the bars as you peered out at him with teary eyes.

“Touya, I’m so happy it’s you! I don’t know how I got here but I’m glad you found me! You have to get me out of here.”

“Don’t worry, Doll. I’ll let you out.”

Hope was also the thing that blinded you from the wicked glow in his eyes, the slow lap of his tongue across his lips at the thought of you realizing far too late that you were trapped by him when he held you against him. Relief was the next thing that blinded you when he unlocked the cage, completely glossing over the detail that he had the key in his pocket. Touya folded you up into his arms when you collapsed against his chest, sobs wracking your body, feathered wings arching to cover you.

“Shouto must be worried sick!” you muttered into his chest, “How long have I been gone?”

“Two days. He’s losing his mind right now.”

Your face was buried into his chest so you couldn’t see the razor grin that had split across his gorgeous face. For good measure, he cupped a hand to the back of your head, murmuring soft comforting words to you as you quaked in his arms. It was important he savored this. It was going to be the last time for a long while before you would willingly touch him again.

“Please take me home…”

Touya chuckled darkly, “Awww you don’t like it here?”

He watched you lift your tear stained face up, staring up at him with bewildered eyes. A thumb swiped gently at the stroke of your cheekbones before hooking down to trail along your jaw. Confusion mottled your expression before the first prick of fear flickered in your eyes. The way your mouth hung open made him want to kiss you breathless, crush you to him until you were pounding at his chest to let you go and even then go further.

“No! Why would I want to stay here in a cage?!”

“But you look so pretty in there, Dollface.”

The dark angel captured your wrists in his hands as you started to back away from him, hauling you closer. Fear burst even brighter in your eyes, your whole form quaking in his grasp. The sight made his cock twitch, breath panting ragged from his lips as you squirmed.

“T-Touya? This isn’t funny! Take me home.”

“Sorry babes. This is your home now.” the way all the hope withered in your eyes when you realized he was your captor had his blood running hot, “Poor little Shouto is just going to have to do without.”

Touya dipped his dark head down before he started leaving scorching hot kisses to your exposed neck. You trembled and thrashed but you just did not have the strength to break free of him. Just how he liked it. Roughly he whipped you around and pulled you back to chest against him, hooking his left arm around your arms to imprison them behind your back. A whimper escaped you as his free hand closed over your neck in a warning grip before sliding slowly down towards your collarbones.

“St-stop it! Touya, please!”

“God’s not here, sweetheart. So you don’t have to pretend to be so pure and innocent now. I saw the way you kept your eyes on me more than Shouto. He was too bright. Too pure for you to handle. Fact is, you craved a bit of darkness didn’t you?” he whispered wickedly into your ear, a hand groping at your right breast through the silky shift you were clad in, “My brother doesn’t deserve you and I’ve decided that I’m going to keep you. You’re mine now.”

A finger and thumb pinched your nipple through the silken fabric, pulling a choked cry from your throat. A rock hard cock rutted against the curve of your backside, summoning up his own groan of pleasure. At first he had wanted to steal you away from perfect little Shouto, the shining son, out of spite. To take away one of the things he wanted the most and wreck you. But the more time went on, the more Touya wanted you for himself. Why break such a delicious creature when he could just take you and keep you? It would stroke the wicked green eyed devil that had started to grow within his chest and also lash out the prodigal son.

“Touya please don’t do this!” you begged, a loud moan escaping you when his hand shot down to rub against your clit, “Ah-! Please! I-I won’t tell anyone if you let me go-”

The sounds of your begging unleashed a clash of emotions in him. On the one hand, hearing your voice break and plead him made his dick twitch against the curve of your ass. It was a delicious little sound and he wanted to hear more from you. But it also sparked a deep rage in him. Touya went through all of this trouble, stealing some of Heaven’s prized metal work to fashion a cage for you here. Spent months scoping out the perfect place to keep you so you couldn’t escape and no one could find you. He had even taken the extra steps to try and make it comfortable.

“Ingrateful whore.” he snarled, tearing open your shift to bare your form to the seaside air. Any trace of gentleness he had shown before evaporated when he shoved you face first against the side of the gilded cage, “Take a good long look at this cage. Because this and me is the closest you’ll ever get to those pearly fucking gates again.”

You wondered where it had all gone wrong. Wondered how he could do something so awful to you and his brother. He was an angel, one of the holy ones, it wasn’t supposed to be this way at all. Shouto made it easy for you to forget that they could fall just like anyone else. That they could be fallible and prone to corruption.

Afterall, every demon is an angel that’s fallen from grace.

((Want to participate in Arcane April? Check out my post here about the event and send in your requests! One day left!))

#Dabi x reader #Dabi x you #Dabi x y/n #Yandere!Dabi #Angel!Dabi #MHA #BNHA #nsftumblr #my writing #ArcaneApril #Anonymous

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theredsuzuran · 4 years ago

Text

Yandere Muzan x Reader

I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors, also for my crappy writing I hope It does not bore you lol. Slight mention of gore

It was the time of summer

A multitude of people hovering over one another in the vast space of the lively Asakusa city occupying the streets like tiny ants. Unfortunately it was same monotonous sight for kibutsuji Muzan progenitor of the morbid demon race, who seems to be roaming around uninterestingly looking for a suitable prey to hunt. The fleeting lives of mortals, their compassion, happiness, sorrow, pain held no value to him. They are pests who belong in the dirt or beneath his feet, inferior compare to a perfect being like himself. Nothing more than a tool that he won't hesitate to discard after his desires are fulfilled. All of a sudden his gaze felt upon a petite figure near a tailor shop, a large number of people gathering around her.

What's the matter, mister? Muzan inquired to a man next to him.

"if you are new definitely try her kimonos, now make way" the man said quickly as he rushed to the shop pushing all the people away. He was interested to know what the deal was about so he decided to stay for a while hoping it's worth the wait.

After a long delay muzan finally got the chance to view the women. As their eyes locked the dazzling city lights broader than the day itself felt dull in comparison for a moment, the once monochromatic world seems to change vibrantly with her luminous presence, As if goddess Amaterasu, the diety of sun herself have ascended from the heaven into the mortal realm. The demon lord stood there mesmerized by her breathtaking beauty, how can someone so close to perfection exist alongside those barbarians.

"How can I help you mister?" She questioned politely with her soft vocal. His endless thoughts were interrupted breaking the silence.

"Show me your kimonos"

And so his obsession started..

Days passed since his last encounter with the woman. He have come across numerous marvelous humans in everlasting lengthy life but never have his ruby eyes caught a glimpse of someone as alluring as her. The girl possesses an unique aura that differentiated her from the rest of the crowd, able to draw attention from the cold hearted creator of cannibalistic demons. At first muzan was just curious to know about that woman, possibly persuade her to become one of his underling because of the potentials she may carry. He frequently begun to visit her shop to but or sew different fabrics. Gaining basic information, like her name, likes and dislikes, etc. Her grandfather owned the tailor shop which sold finest quality garments from the beginning and were highly respected for their excellent tailoring. Continued by (y/n) at her family's will, who runs the shop with equal undying devotion.

She treated him with such kindness even though he was a ruthless demon not that she knew about it or let alone the existence of demons. The deepest corner of his dark heart illuminated with pure light whenever she was around and he came to the conclusion that she was the ray of sunshine he desires to perceive. Eversince he was cured from his fatal illness the only goal in his life was to conquer the sun which prevents him to achieve absolute perfection, in order to live an eternal and indestructible life or so he thought until that very day his eyes laid upon you. It would be stupid to think that demons are capable of experiencing love, concepts of feelings are completely foreign in their conciousness, it was more like obsession. His megalomania makes him believe he needs you no he wants you.

Alas, if only it was a fairytale. The king does not always gets what he desires and same goes for the demon lord when he finds out that his beloved darling already has a lover. As he witnessed the sight of you hugging your partner with passion. The way her eyes flutter infront of him when he caresses her cheeks making her turn away bashfully and how she hold his hand with her delicate ones while exchanging vows of love and loyalty towards each other made his blood boiled with fury. If anyone who can hold her fragile frame is none other but the demon lord himself yet there she was sharing intimacy with some filthy creature. His narcissistic self was put down with a lowlife, he cannot accept that his (y/n) was claimed someone else's. It was something he would never allow to happen.

"Kibutsuji san would you like to buy something today as well?" The women who now acknowledge his presence asked him cheerfully.

"Should I visit you later" a force smile graced on his pale features.

"Oh no, it's fine, let me introduce you to my fiancee" she said excitedly.

"Nice to meet you kibutsuji san" your fiancee said

"Pleasure to meet you as well" The demon scoffed under his breath but Kibutsuji was quite adamant he knew it was not hard to turn the tables anytime sooner as with a blink of an eye he can get rid of him by simply ordering his underlings without even hesitating to dirty his hands exclusive for his precious darling. But that was not what muzan was planning to do at all as his mind was engulfed with much sinister thoughts.

To insanity?

"You have been restless for a long time, what's wrong my child?" A man asked with a look of concern written all over his face looking straight at the figure of an anxious woman roaming around impatiently within the house.

"Its been a week father since he last wrote a letter to him" she mumbled softly disappointment painted across her features. The father could not help but laugh a little by her daughter's remark.

"Father please it is serious"

"I am sorry sweetheart but it might be that your fiancee is busy with wedding preparation" which made sense because the wedding would be taking place after three day and it was obvious that he was caught up with the arrangement. However there was a strange feeling inside her stomach which made her believe otherwise.

As the days passed the wedding day came close, with (y/n) still not receiving any message from her lover. Worried her to the core at this point all she wanted was to make sure of his safety as something constantly felt off. The guests came in one by one for the wedding ceremony but there was no sign of the groom.

It was getting unbearable for her to remain confined. Ignoring her father's request to stay inside she went outside in hope to check whether or not her lover was approaching but once again she was greeted with emptiness. Her eyes swell up with tears forming on both corners allowing her body to slowly hit the surface as she convinced herself that her lover will never come. The worst was yet to happen and before she could make any movement the ground beneath her feet started shaking and a shoji door opened consuming her into the darkness.

It was just the start of her miserable life under the demon's control.

"So you are finally awake", a sudden voice came echoing into her eyes as she slowly opened her eyes after regaining her consciousness. She moved her hands upwards in order to ease the headache only to find her hands tied up with shackles, a chilling sensation of overwhelming fear filled her entire senses as she remembered what happened prior.

"Where am I? Why am I chained?" Who are you?" she demanded furiously at the mysterious figure infront her which was now advancing at her direction from the dark corner of the dimly litted room.

"You are quite an impatient one?" The man gripped her chin roughly as her eyes protruded out with bewilderment.

"Can't even remember your daily customer?" A wicked smile curved across his countenance.

"K..Kibutsuji san" she parted her lips. Tears forming in her eyes once again. This made muzan even more irritated as he tightened his grip on her chin. (Y/n) whimpered with pain crying out loud.

"Your shouting won't help dear nobody apart from me can hear you scream" he said bluntly with his cold apathetic voice.

"Why?" (Y/n) lowered her head down holding his hand with her delicate ones trying her best to get a hold of him.

"Pardon?" Muzan inquired as he stared at your quivering form with his souless eyes there was no empathy in them or whatsoever although he felt pity. He cannot deny the fact that he was indeed attracted to her that's the reason why he put her into so much hassles.

"Where is my lover?" She asked sternly with her voice shaking a bit.

"Oh" muzan responded his hand still holding her chin tightly. This made her even more anxious she was unaware of the power he might possess and definitely she didn't had any intentions to risk her life.

"Why can't you humans move on and accept circumstances given before you?" it startled her as she cannot process what he meant.

"I don't.. u..understand" she said.

"Then you have to learn to accept me as your partner" muzan replied coldly (y/n) sat there looking at him with disbelief her heart and soul belonged to someone else and for a long time they have been together it's absolutely impossible to change the reality she was accustomed with just because some maniac wants to make her his partner.

"I can never" she murmured with disgust hinted in her voice. "I love him" throwing daggers in his direction not ready to submit her futile attempts of protest should pissed the demon lord even more but to her surprise she saw him smiling menacingly and in the corner of her eyes she saw the figure of her debilitate lover.

"Start from his fingers" muzan ordered one of his subordinate as they began chopping one of his finger making him scream in pain.

"No! please don't hurt him" trying to break free from the shackles she was tied with realizing it was fruitless she fell on the demon's knee begging with all the strength left within her in a last desperate attempt.

"You left me with no other choice, dear" he explained playing his sick games of manipulation on her. This was exactly what he needed to break her mind and she cannot help but rely on him pleading for his forgiveness feeding on his massive ego providing him ultimate satisfaction to witness the quivering frame of his darling clinging onto his knee in pure submission.

"Please I will do anything you say" she requested shaking like crazy.

"Anything?" Muzan questioned raising his eyebrow

"Yes" she replied without any hesitation.

"Be mine"

She already knew that he wanted this and she readily obliged in order to save her beloved, sacrificing her own life. Her only purpose was now to satisfy the demon lord, he was successful until the very end and it won't take long to make her completely his.

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny muzan #muzan kibutsuji #demon lord #demon slayer #demon #muzan kibutsuji x reader #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #muzan x reader #anime

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houseaegir · 4 years ago

Note

wlw ferigard and prompt is proposal

Thank you for the prompt! I had fun writing this <3

they’re lesbians, your honor

—

They’ve only just returned from Fhirdiad - a long march from an exhausting battle that has left most of her Eagles passed out in their old classroom, unwilling to be separated just yet - but Edelgard finds herself climbing the stairs to the top of the Goddess Tower for a moment alone. Well, perhaps not completely alone. She hopes, silently, that something will come - that someone in particular will follow her up here.

She waits in the pre-dawn quiet for several minutes, long enough to carefully remove her crown and unwind her hair. The war is over, the monster slain, she has no need for horns any longer. She’s massaging the ache in her scalp when she hears familiar, clanging footsteps up the spiral staircase behind her. There’s a hesitance to their cadence, but Edelgard finds her own reservations draining away with the tension in her shoulders.

She came.

Orange hair crests the last stair first, followed by earnest amber eyes that Edelgard has come to love so much, then the rest of a war-hardened body still partially clad in light flyer’s armor. Edelgard can’t help but smile softly as she holds out a hand to her love.

“Freya. I’m glad you came.”

Freya returns her smile with more confidence at the reassurance. “A year ago, you asked me to meet you here when the war was won. I could never break a promise to my Emperor.”

“Please, I don’t want to be Emperor and General right now. Let us be simply Freya and . . . El.” It has been a very long time since anyone called her that, long enough that offering it now sets her heart racing, but Freya of all people understands the importance of names.

“As you wish, El.” Freya’s smile softens as she takes Edelgard’s offered hand and kisses the knuckles with all the reverence and devotion of a worshipper to their goddess. What Freya does not see is that she is the only goddess present, the very Sun made flesh, too brilliant for mere mortals to gaze upon. But, oh, how Edelgard longs to burn.

Freya continues to hold Edelgard’s hand in both of her’s, and Edelgard wishes she had had the foresight to remove her gloves. There are too many layers between them, and no longer any need to hide her scars from her lover, but she can’t bring herself to break the contact even for a moment.

“I wish to ask you something, now that we have the time. Before the next war begins in earnest.”

“Anything.” The adoration in Freya’s eyes is heady, but Edelgard knows even now Freya will not hesitate to debate her on anything she finds unsatisfactory. The thought brings a chuckle to her lips. Freya will never mindlessly agree with her, no matter their relationship.

Taking a deep breath, Edelgard holds tighter to Freya’s hands. “The solitary reign of Edelgard has come to an end. From now on, we walk this path together. With time and care, the darkness shrouding this world will be lifted. You and I will become the light that shines over Fódlan . . . just as you have shone upon my life.”

“Edelgard?”

“Freya von Aegir-“ No, Freya has broken free of her family’s legacy and left it far behind, she is her own woman no longer shackled to the expectations and burdens of the Aegir name. Start over.

“Freya of Adrestia, will you do me the honor-“ with the hand not held so gently by Freya’s, Edelgard reaches into a hidden pocket at her neck and withdraws a ring she had specially commissioned months earlier. The band is made of the same alloy as her armor, set with a fire opal to match Freya’s eyes. “-of being my wife?”

#Cockatoo.writing #Ferdigard #Ferdinand von Aegir #Edelgard #trans Ferdinand von Aegir #I was gonna write Freya’s reaction but it wasn’t working :P #Its basically the same as Ferdie’s canon S support #she gets so excited she almost faints #also I borrowed some dialogue from Edelgard’s S support #bc *light metaphors*

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unkownknowledge · 3 years ago

Text

OC: CHAOS GOD OF THE VOID, GIOTA

story I'm still working on your requests don't worry, I just wanted to make a few character sheets since I'm not focused enough rn. I'll finish it when I take my meds though I promise.

And this isn't an oc for any show, rather a character from a multiversal mythos I'm making

also, an important term to understand this: 1 god year=5 billion years

_____________________

Description:

Giota is a very hot and cool Giota stop changing the text! Atleast change your style of writing so the reader can undead immediately Aw but wheres the fun GIOTA

Fine mister fun police, I'll write like this then. And I'll be cooler than you

Young man I wil... forget it, back on track:

Giota is a shapeshifting god of chaos, void, technological progress, freedom, and being a dramatic bitch.

Hey! I'm not a bitch!....maybe a little

When appearing before mortals he'll often take on the form the viewer imagines when they think of a god of chaos would appear as. Often times when the user knows the basic descriptions of Giota from the 'book of tales' will see him as a angel like statue of bones with numerous cracks, no face, and organ pipe wings.

When meeting with gods outside his domain or when he must meet mortals in a set form, he will take on simple, 10ft tall humanoid form with bone skin, a cracked mouth that cracks more when he speaks, two different colored eyes, and longer than floor length black hair. One of his eyes will be crying water that burns upwards, while the other cries fire that flows downwards. In this form he wears a black trenchcoat, green turtleneck, and purple dad pants.

What the fuck are dad pants?

You know, those usually brown pants that are kinda jeans but soft and actually comfortable.

YOU BITCH MY HUSBAND LIKES JEANS AND HIS PANTS ARE SOFT!

YOUR HUSBAND HAS MARSHMALLOW THIGHS! LITERALLY! OF COURSE HIS PANTS ARE SOFT!

Inside his own domain, or if he's feeling especially done with whatever poor bastard made him upset, Giota takes the form of an innocent ten year old child with soft white steel skin, mile long black hair made of silk, and black eyes made of diamonds. In this form he wears pajamas for to big for him, his mouth leads to a dark void, and he carries around two plushies: a bunny made of roses from his mom, and a plush of his adult form from his husband. Of course he becomes an adult if they do anything adult, so please don't start.

Regardless of his form, even when it's based on the perspective of others, he always wears a large knitted infinity scarf his husband made for whenever he wanted to hide away.

_____________________

Powers:

Cool ones

I mean, he's not wrong...

(I should make an ice themed character)

Giota, as a god, has numerous powers related to his domains.

powers of freedom:

inspiring presence- while most gods or beings of power inspire mortals and lesser beings of power to kneel down or bow, Giota’s presence inspires all beings to rise up, to do anything, to do whatever they want, to become the best they can be. this can be used to inspire allies to carry on. However Giota can also let this power run rampant, and free the mind of any shackles, and while this sounds good it really just means removing all morals and causing mass violence, and if he lets it run rampant while in the same dimension he lets it then all life will mutate into eldritch monstrosities of decadence and selfishness. According to him this is to show that balance must be kept between chaos and law.

the torch of liberty- among Giota’s duties as a god of freedom is to liberate the populations of ‘doomed realms’ that have been enslaved. essentially, if a planet in a universe is ruled purely by either law or chaos then the entire universe can be effected, in the case of law it can result in the entire universe becoming one collective conscious. while it’s not common that enslaved worlds occur, however when they do they are the most dangerous of law worlds. to combat worlds like this gods of freedom are given torches that free the minds of the enslaved and bring down holy fire upon the enslavers in the form of the collective will of all the freed people.

powers of technological progress:

cybernetic god-many god-years ago Giota was severely wounded by a rogue god of flesh and a rogue god of metal, to the point even he could not regenerate it. to stop him from dying a cult of his granted Giota cybernetic enhancements. these enhancements integrated into Giota’s flesh as it regenerated and became enhanced in turn by Giota’s divinity, and Giota’s divine power was enhanced then by the cybernetics, resulting in a self sustaining growth in power. while he gladly used this to stop the rogue gods, and once again to destroy an old one, he feels being that powerful would upset the balance of power, so he sealed it in a time lock in time with the seasons and time of day in the void. his power increases from mid day to mid night, and from the end of summer to the end of winter. in the minute of exactly midnight at the end of winter, Giota becomes, in both this multiverse and the old, the most powerful being to exist.

self evolving knowledge- because his position as a god of technology is artificial his powers in it are very weak, being able to only grant full sentience and sapience to machines. he can also create minor miracles of technology, such as summoning a clockwork toy(which he does often)

hey man did you really have to bring up the whole getting my ass kicked thing?

yes, now shut up before I bring up what you sing in the shower

....fucker....

powers of being dramatic:

yeah that wasn't a joke. Giota is the god of being over the top, stylish, and over all flair. in other words, being dramatic

personal sound track- he can cause any song he wants to play when he does anything.

lights, camera, ACTION!- whenever he wants, Giota can cause a bright, sparkling light to emit from his body or behind himself.

my favorite is that one bad bitch’s theme. what’s her name again?

Ragyo Kiyurin?

that's the fucker! terrible taste in morals, but damn does she know how to enter a room.

...can I put sigh when it’s supposed to be me sighing?

powers of the god of chaos

Chaotic existence- for Giota to even exist is, in and of itself, a paradox. he comes from a timeline that never existed, that was on a set path, yet he exist, and he changed the course of the timeline. when he became a chaos god he became a paradox within a paradox, he existed yet did not. to attempt to change any aspect of his being, to take in any part of his being, is to know that which is not there to know, to understand that which is not there, you have to be able to comprehend the very essence of nonexistence to even bare a hair of his getting in your mouth. such a thing easily drives all things that try insane, to the point that every part of their conscience believes that it does not exist.

overwhelming power-chaos gods are only once a multiverse, and with the title comes pure power. such power could turn an infant into an indestructible warrior, however since Giota was already at that level on a mortal scale, and already capable of taking on powerful gods, this power sets him among the highest echelons of divine might.

powers of the god of void

key to nonexistence- the god of the void is the only being who can open the bridge between that which exist and that which does not

rapid regeneration- the void god has an innate ability to regenerate from nearly all damage, even if they are ground to a fine paste. this regeneration is enhanced by the cybernetic enhancements.

speed of darkness- the void god has an innate speed that surpasses light, Giota’s already superhuman speed was enhanced by this.

spear of not- the void god is the sole being in existence and non existence who can wield the spear of not, a finely forged weapon. it is not special beyond being enchanted to withstand godly power and a ‘security lock’ enchantment, however it is still a very well made weapon.

blah blah blah, enough about what I was handed, tell them about my mortal abilities

as Giota just said, and as I’ve brought up before, Giota is extremely powerful even without his powers, he also used to be two other mortals that were less powerful. but over all these were his powers, which he still has.

leather skin- while it might appear or feel like something else, Giota’s skin is exactly like leather armor. this comes from how he was raised as a child to be a powerful warrior and his skin was tanned into hide and treated while it was still on him.

adamantine bone- Giota’s bones were also replaced by an adamantine skeleton when he was a child.

super sonic speeds- during his training as a child, he was taught to be able to surpass the sound barrier on foot.

superhuman strength- his training also trained his body to carry ten tons, however as a mortal he improved that strength to the point he could exert enough force to blast away entire cities by blinking. This power did not come easy.

flight- after training with some monks late in his life, Giota was able to walk on the air, essentially he could fly at the same speed as he could run.

agility- he was trained as a warrior and assassin, so Giota’s training included advanced maneuverability training, including wall running, sneaking across tripwires, etc.

weapon master- Giota is a master in all weapons and various forms of martial arts.

he also has reciev- hey man you good?

I-I’m fine! d-don’t write that I’m crying!

you...wanna talk about it?

…no...

is it about your mom?

…maybe...

alright take your time.

anyway Giota has a very useful piece of equipment, the cloak of maternity- despite it’s name, it’s actual a cloak that leads to a pocket dimension where Giota carries his weapons and toys. It is called the cloak of maternity because his adoptive mother gave him after he became a god-bounty hunter, she even designed it to help him hide away from people. it even has a designated snack pocket.

_____________________

BIO:

Giota was found by his adoptive mother after he destroyed his timeline, as punishment, or perhaps in an attempt to redeem him, she turned him back into a baby. something Giota happily accepted.

After this his life went on as a mortal’s would, only in the realm of divinity: he went to school, went into college, graduated, then entered the workforce. granted the workforce he entered was bounty hunting divine criminals. it was easy for him to get into, after all everything from his past life transferred over to this one, it wasn't long before he was hunting even the deadliest of criminals. while his mom was very supportive, it was still difficult for him to keep in contact with her as he did before moving out, and being a bounty hunter was hardly a sociable job. it wasn't long before Giota fell into depression, and then to drugs. for twenty three god years his life was an endless cycle of contract killing, payment, and wallowing in chemical joy. But at the end of all blinding lights, there is a welcoming darkness.

Giota had become the personal bounty hunter of the god of law and time: Ceerus. one day while leaving after receiving a contract, he met the god’s child, a boy his age named Dyalta.

It was thanks to Dyalta that Giota ever kicked drugs, or got out of depression, and thanks to Dyalta Giota managed to find happiness in anything other than a syringe.

Even the reason he found love.

rise to godhood

Giota became a god after an old god, named the Red slaughter, destroyed the entire universe. this was a catalyst for Giota, who had died previously, to return with his newly awakened god powers. I don't want to go into to much detail in this aspect as I intend to write it at some point.

_____________________

hey man you good yet?

a little bit. Dyalta came by and gave me some cookies.

that's good buddy, I’m gonna describe your personality ok?

alright.. I’m gonna go home now.

alright man, take care.

_____________________

personality

do note that this is a bit hard for me to do. I’m more used to just writing a character. I’ll just post two short stories here to try and get his personality across. I made them in school last year.

ok so after looking at it the second one is twelve pages long. so I’m gonna post that elsewhere on here. to give context: this is after a wedding between Dyalta and Giota was interrupted. if you’d like to see more about him then feel free to interact or request him.

elavator story

Giota shifted uncomfortably to make room for his soon to be father in law as the man stepped into the lift.

“Soooooo…” Giota pressed their floor “wonderful, um, siege we’re having.”

Ceerus just keeps his eyes on the door “sure.”

“So how's the uh, wife?”

Ceerus sighed “locked in a tower, that we are invading.”

“Mhm, yup.”

‘Maybe I should try calling him dad.’

“So what did you think of my swordsmanship d-dad.”

Ceerus visibly restrained himself “it was fine ten- Giota.”

The elevator stopped, probably because of security.

“Oh maker damnit,” Ceerus tries rewinding the shut off, but it doesn't work “and it’s godproofed!”

“This reminds of this one time me and Dyalta wen-”

Ceerus put his hand to Giota’s mouth “if you end this story in anything less than fully clothed I will end your fake hide.”

Giota scratches his head nervously “Well I didn't, but Dyalta lost his shirt and well,” Giota notice Ceerus drawing his blade “b-but it was for a sword fi- wait bad wording, it was for a-you know- assasination thing!”

Ceerus sighed and sheathed his sword “look, you dusting mongrel, I don’t like you, you pretend to like me, let’s just try and not kill each other and maybe by the end of this, I won’t flay your ass at the altar.”

Well atleast now they both agreed on something: this was going to be a long crusade.

________________________________________________________________

ok that's that! not a very good character sheet but hopefully it got enough across to be interesting. I’ll end this off with some quotes I want him to say but have never gotten the chance to write out:

“hey Ceerus how’s the kid? oh thats right! in my bed, waiting patiently.” following Ceerus being exceptionally annoying.

“you know something? I try to be nice, I always smile, always banter with my targets. you know, try and be friendly. but then some RED MOTHERFUCKER, POSSESSES MY HUSBAND, WAKING ME UP FROM ETERNAL SLUMBER, AND NOW I ONCE AGAIN HAVE TO CLEAN UP THE GOD’S MESSES!”

*crying into Dyalta* “and then he said my clothes were stupid,” *sobbing* “I tried really hard on these!”

“this multiverse, to us gods, is wet paper mache. so easy to break, one wrong move and POP,” Giota flexes his finger and causes an ocean to split open for a solid ten seconds, “the very fabric of reality is gone. and you. you insuferable MOTHER FUCKERS have the AUDACITY TO COME IN HERE, AND TEAR IT ALL TO SHREDS! well assholes, if this reality is paper mache to you, and I’m stronger than you, take a wild gues as to what you are to me.”

(tagging: @storytravelled, @3lectro-heart, @genshin-obsessed)

#tw drugs #oc

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glassworkspiderlilies · 4 years ago

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the earth shudders at the tower asunder (1/4)

Genshin Impact | Lumine & Aether | AO3 Summary: Not all gods have long memories. (Primordial!Travelers AU, in which Lumine and Aether are not just gods, but amongst the oldest ones.) Notes: oops, forgot to post this here yesterday, so voila. approx 4.5k words. not a holiday fic, but happy holidays!

Their first memories are these: the expanse of bright blue sky, the glow of gentle light. Their true names. Each other—recognition of you, me, brother, sister. We, us, together.

And a voice, a soft, kind echo of stay together, now.

It is a long time before they settle on names in the human tongue, but when they do, they cycle through many, though Aether and Lumine they tend to favor. In the early days, it is only the two of them. They learn to walk and run and fly together; they learn to speak, though in a language only the two of them understand, and more than half of it nonverbal regardless. Not long after, they learn to traverse through worlds too, though at first they did not realize they were doing so, having only crossed into open plains and isolated forests for some time. It is only until they are found by humans one day and taken in as spirits to be worshipped that they grow to be a little more like them through observation.

Two shimmering, golden twins who, somewhat inadvertently, brought fortune to the small village...it wasn't long before they were hailed as gods.

The then-nameless twins decide to stay out of curiosity, and as they watch generations come and go, they learn about the blessings and trappings of mortality. There is still a barrier; they cannot feel wholly what it is their human friends feel, but they continue to learn, and recognize that perhaps, some things are not so different between them after all. Love, loyalty, joy…the villagers are eager to please their gods, and feel relief to see that pleasure reflected on the twins' faces. All this too is a language, and the twins are ever evolving.

Life around them flourishes. The twins bend their surroundings to ways that please them: clear skies, warm sunlight, light breezes. An abundance of flowers and other flora. Bountiful harvests for the seeds sown. They read the earth and temper the ley lines, and the lives that they have come to lead, which in turn is that of the village's, is mild and peaceful. In the beginning there was only two of them, but since then they have gained much, and they are grateful for it.

It does not last.

The village grows into a town, and then a city. The times change, the people change, and the values change. The twins, now sequestered in their aging temple, watch and feel the energies shift. The earth groans, the ley lines diminishing slowly. The so-called god-twins haven't been forgotten, no, but the eyes that are turned upon them are hungrier, more calculating, and sometimes, even malicious. The priests that tend to them range in the service, too; in the past, they did not have priests, just friends who helped them of their own free will. Now, those who tend to the twins are either careless or fanatic.

It is tiring. The world is no longer as they know it, and it is no longer comfortable to stay. But they have seen this city grow from the cluster of huts it used to be, and so, is it not what humans call “home”? But time continues to pass, and the energy continues to bubble and burst in unpleasant ways. What the twins can do for the people is no longer enough; their own values are too outdated, and what they are and aren't willing to do is not understood by humans who lead such different existences.

The twins have grown too mortal-seeming for the people to be intimidated by any aspect of them anymore. And so the day comes when an organized group breaks into the temple and shackles them, with the intentions of forcing them to do their bidding, for the good of the city, or so they say.

It is a new pain, the cold iron chafing their ankles and wrists, the spite turned towards them, the abandonment by many of those whose ancestors they could easily trace back to someone they liked. There is pain on their mortal flesh, too; if the men no longer believe in the gods, they do not think twice of striking them. That they bruise and bleed seems only to reinforce that they are not so special; there are others with abilities now, and the twins have not shown all their hands—and even less of them, with the times.

Lumine licks the blood from her lip and looks to her brother, who spits his own blood from his mouth.

They were born of the sky and light; they do not want to be contained like this.

They cannot, and will not be contained like this.

“This is no longer home,” the sister says, her eyes melancholy.

“Let’s go,” the brother says, his eyes angry, and the twins join hands.

“Goodbye,” they say together, their voices—one wistful, one disgusted—echoing across the city, and in a shimmer of light and a puff of wind, the twin gods are gone.

The shackles hit the ground with a damning clatter.

They do not return, though many, moved by the farewell and feeling their abandonment, pray and hope for years after.

The changes in the city are not so explicit, but noticeable. There is a certain life missing in the city, a certain protection, and a certain watchful tenderness.

The people lament and regret their hubris, but it is too late.

By the time the civilization falls, the twins are past looking back.

Stay together, now.

The first lesson is the hardest. In the end, they only have each other.

They are more careful, the next time they stay longer in a place. They traverse through several worlds before they decide to again, and it is because of a young boy who saved their life—or is under the impression he did, anyway—from animal traps in the woods.

It starts, as always, with a curiosity; the boy, Idris, excited by their foreign clothes and manners, wants so badly to hear their stories.

The other townspeople are warier of them, but as the twins get to know the boy by entertaining his requests, it is slowly revealed by his aborted sentences and the scars on his arm that his home life is…not good. He sneaks out to escape his family, and his talks with the travelers from places he’s never heard of before are the highlight of his life.

They cannot take him with them. But they can, at least, stay.

Unfortunately, there is not much they can do for him besides tend to his wounds and keep his spirits up, but that is enough for Idris.

He grows from a boy to a teen, and then a young adult, and runs away from home. Aether and Lumine aid his escape, and the joy on Idris’ face as they shoot through the woods brings them joy that they had not felt so keenly in a long time.

Idris eventually grows to lead a simple, comfortable life at the edge of a faraway town. Aether is amused that Idris never tires of listening to his and Lumine’s stories, and that he even asks for some to be repeated. They spar with him and teach him better ways to defend himself so he is not subjugated again, the twins themselves having been taught by both peasants and masters alike as they traveled through worlds.

In turn, Idris teaches them to cook—properly, with pots and pans and assorted seasonings. He teaches them other recipes over the fire too, but the fascination the twins show with what he considers regular home cooking makes him laugh.

The three spend their days living as simple huntsmen, though Idris performs more of the day-to-day business transactions. Though the bond between the twins is—something sacred, Idris grows to be something of a brother, too. They note how easily he smiles and laughs now, compared to his reservation as a boy, as well as his growing strength and his eternal kindness, and are glad.

And then—he becomes King.

Soldiers come to their little house in peace, with a representative to explain Idris’ history. A child was lost in a storm and presumed dead, but the body was never found, though his mother the Queen’s was. The information was hidden by the first prince’s faction, who was quite a few years older, and already quite prepared to be heir. But a few months ago, the first prince had been assassinated, and the news that the second prince might still live was revealed due to the sudden lack of succession.

And so, a hunt was mounted, and now, finally succeeded.

His return to the King’s side is not a mere request to be denied, and so, pleading that Aether and Lumine go with him, they are all escorted to the royal castle posthaste.

As it turns out, the King does not have much time to live, hence the increased desperation to find his lost heir. Idris is, of course, baffled and confused, but there is an instant—and real—fondness between father and son, who have such little time between them, and surprisingly more in common than the first prince had with his father.

The King’s last days are filled with conversations with Idris, both personal and official. Idris is unprepared, but he has his father’s last minute lessons and his most trusted advisors, and—though in his heart, he thinks this position is not for him—he cannot back down from the expectations placed upon his shoulders.

No one knows what to do with the strange twins that come with him, but Idris’ first command is that they not be bothered. Aether and Lumine are free to do as they please—he is adamant about this, because he always, and continues, to know them as travelers, even if they have been with him for so long and grown near and dear to his heart.

The twins sense the distress at his position under the brave façade he puts on, however, and continue to stay, much to his relief. In their travels they have seen kings and queens and various types of rulers; though this is the first time they have truly spent their time in the company of one, they can, at the very least, share stories that may help, as they always have.

In time, they become King Idris’ closest and most trusted advisors. He becomes a wise and benevolent ruler with their assistance, the kingdom flourishes—and the air feels once more like home.

Yet—as years go on, the twins, no matter how venerable they are, begin to be regarded with wariness and suspicion.

They do not age.

For a long time, Idris had simply accorded it to good genes; there have been others who look younger than they are. His own Queen is one of them. But as he grows into a proper man while Aether and Lumine still look like adolescents…he would be a fool to continue making excuses.

Still, no one asks. The twins have served well, and have done nothing to give doubt to their character. If they are spirits or fae or gods, then it is in their better interest not to offend them by probing unnecessarily. This uneasiness and curiosity sinks into the background anyway when the Queen finally gives birth to her first child after many difficulties, and there is joy all around at the arrival of a new prince.

And then—war begins to brew.

Small skirmishes around the border begin to grow into larger battles. Villages on the outskirts are razed to the ground; hostages are taken. Full-scale invasion looms, and quickly the kingdom prepares to go to battle with their neighbor.

The King dons his armor, prepared to lead his armies, and yet…and yet—

He looks at his firstborn child with desperation. His Queen cries on his shoulder; the King is a good man and an able fighter, but he is no skilled warrior, and the tides of the battle are not optimistic. The few sorties he’s led are nothing compared to what is to come. Idris looks at his wife and child and wonders if he is a weak man for not wanting to die in battle, no matter how glorious the cause.

At night, after his son has been settled and his wife has fallen into a tearful, exhausted sleep, he prays.

He prays, and as he does, has a thought.

There is a tower that the twins favor, as it is the highest point in the castle. Oftentimes they have been seen perched precariously on the topmost point of its roof—and it is a mystery how they get there, every time. Some swear that they must have flown, but the twins have never been caught in the action, and so it had become something of a joke.

But…perhaps…it is not a jest, after all.

They are not on the roof when he finds them but on the balcony proper, and their eyes are somberly luminous in the moonlight. That they say nothing, their faces blank as they wait for him to speak, makes him nervous. Suddenly there is a gulf between them; they’d been so close for so much of his life, but as he became more comfortable in his role as king and confident in his own decisions, he had sought them out less and less. And now…now, he is about to ask the impossible, his heart beating so loudly surely they must hear it.

Idris licks his lips and steels himself, squaring his shoulders.

“Aether. Lumine. Will you go to war with me?”

A pause, and Lumine’s lips twist into a sardonic smile. It is a severe expression on her young face, but her eyes are much older than her appearance belies.

“That is not,” she begins quietly, “The true question you are asking, is it?”

Idris flinches as if slapped, and Aether leans against the balustrades with deceptive nonchalance.

“Well?” he prompts, his faint smile matching his sister’s, and Idris covers his face with his hands, the accumulating stress from the past few months crashing down upon him all at once.

“Forgive me,” he rasps out, his voice raw, “Will you fight this war for me? It’s true, what they say, isn’t it? You aren’t…aren’t human. Gods, perhaps. If it is you two, surely you could turn the tides. I have…I have my people to think about. And my wife and child. Call me selfish if you must, but I cannot…we cannot win this battle alone. I am desperate to keep the peace and prosperity we have built. We have come too far to lose it all now…and if this is my only option…I will beg for it if I have to. So please…”

His voice cracks, and tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

“I beg of you…save me and my kingdom from our fate.”

He lowers his head and waits, squeezing his eyes shut, the tears falling without reserve, afraid of what will come next.

“We will fight your war,” Lumine whispers.

Idris’ head snaps back up, gratitude on his tongue, but freezes when he catches her expression.

Sorrow.

“But it will be the last thing we do,” Aether adds, holding his gaze.

His face is grave, though there is no accusation.

Idris’ throat is tight.

“I understand,” he says, “Thank you.”

The twins walk past him without looking at him again, and the King feels his heart break. But the choice is made. He will not regret it.

He cannot.

(On the battlefield, too few moons later, the twins walk ahead of Idris’ main army and cross their swords with each other’s at the first wave of enemy soldiers.

“Turn back,” they call, voice echoing across the terrain, and of course it is met with crude jeers and hollers before the opposing army charges.

None think to question just why it is the twins’ voices carry so far, with the wind whistling sharply and the dark, cloudy sky rumbling with thunder.

Wings of shimmering light burst out of the twins’ backs; both the King, his soldiers, and the enemy gasp at the otherworldly sight, the charge slowing just for a moment.

“We gave our warning,” the twins say sadly, and the field erupts into light.

It is over quickly, all things considered. By the time the light fades completely, many of their opponents are dead, and the remaining stragglers who do not flee are taken care of swiftly with plain swordsmanship.

They grant mercy where they can.

Rain turns the ground to mud as the battle comes to an end, and the twins return to Idris’ side streaked in blood afterward.

“Goodbye,” they say, their voices flat.

Idris means to say—something. I’m sorry, or thank you, or I hope to see you again. But the words stick in his throat, and the twins walk past him once more. This time, when he turns, they are nowhere to be seen.

Gods, or a kingdom? Idris is only mortal, and so must make a mortal choice.

Love for his land, love for his people, love for his family…there are things he wants to protect.

The twins cannot fault him. After all, they would have chosen each other, too.

But they sleep, for some years after that.

(“You forgive them, don’t you?”

“Ah, Lumi…it’s not about forgiveness. It’s about letting it go. We just…aren’t mortal, right? What good will it do to carry it with us?”

A pause. She presses her lips together, then sighs.

“I can’t help if it hurts,” she admits, turning her face away, and Aether chuckles.

“Well,” he says, ruffling her hair, and she immediately reaches over to ruffle his in revenge, “If it displeases you so much, then just forget, little sister.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, but her tone is merely mildly annoyed. The creation of his physical form a few scant questionable seconds before hers has been an age-old argument between them. “Fine. I suppose you are meant to just…accept.”

“And it’s both of our so-called jobs to just be. Isn’t it? But if you can’t let go, then just let it be, and let time take care of it. We are made of time.”

A silence.

“Why are we here, Aether?”

He smiles. This, too, is a question his sister asks often.

“Why worry about it, when we already are? Come. The sun, the flowers, the air. Isn’t that enough to live for?”

Lumine doesn’t have an argument. She sighs again.

“So be it,” she says, with a faint smile. )

When they wake, the landscapes are different, both earthly and spiritual. There are more spirits and gods and other celestial beings, and—

They don’t know if this is less lonely.

For a while it is, at least; the lesser spirits greet them mostly with fear or awe, and some brave ones with curiosity. (There is a small wind spirit that is unequivocally bold, circling around them for some months with brazen interest, and the twins miss its company as soon as it is gone. Wind is a free, fickle thing, after all; the twins had not expected it to stay, and the few months it was with them was already considered long.) The more powerful gods are wary, and greet them with respect and obedience, though not all are happy about it. The twins know not what it is they sense, that they think the two more powerful than them, but nor do they know enough to contest it. They travel, and roam, and bend the world in what they consider minor ways; surely these other newer gods can do more than that—and do what they hope is better by the humans who have grown more numerous. Many of these new gods have a people to watch over and guide with care—more than the twins can say for themselves.

Time passes, and the challengers begin to come.

The different gods of battle and weaponry and other such related things request duels. The twins win every time, for many years, treating these fights with polite amusement. Some take those losses with respect, others take it with anger, feeling belittled. But Aether and Lumine are not aggressive beings, so why should they respond with aggression?

Nonetheless, their behavior draws ire as year after year as they accept these duels and continue to win. Lumine’s style is clean and efficient, Aether’s is flashy and acrobatic. Those who are foolish enough to challenge them together see only a flash of light before they are flat on their backs, swords crossed at their necks.

“Must they persist?” Lumine asks her brother one day, as they start hiding from challengers.

Aether laughs.

“They must enjoy the challenge,” he says, spinning his blade, “It gives them something to live for, when life is so long.”

“And us?” Lumine asks, “What is there to challenge us?”

Aether pauses.

“Each other?” he says, grinning slyly. “Why, sister, if you wanted to lose, you need only ask.”

She throws her sword at him for that. He dodges as she summons her weapon back, and lunges forward just as her fingers close around the hilt.

They spar.

A mountain is flattened for their trouble, and the Lord of Mountains expresses his displeasure at them loudly, later. They take his scolding with good graces.

Making friends amongst gods is easier, truth be told; especially with the lesser ones. The Lady of Flowers and the Lord of Birds are among those they are closest to, the both of them having more placid natures, and also rulers of things the twins love best.

Among the stronger ones, they have a polite relationship with the God of Blizzards, and a slightly warmer one with The God of the Woods. The God of Storms they avoid, for he and the twins always seem to clash when they meet. They care not for the flavor of energy he cultivates, and he dislikes many things that are stronger than himself.

Somewhat surprisingly, they get along well with the newly minted God of Commerce, who is already starting to go by many names—including the God of War. He may be young, but his power grows at a rapid pace…and perhaps too quickly. Still, he is level-headed if sometimes rash, and the twins feel at ease watching someone be so sure of their place in the world.

Among the gods, even despite—or simply including—the annoyances, life is fuller. They share the same—or at the very least, similar—time; lasting friendships are formed, abilities are challenged and grow, and the twins laugh more easily in the skies.

And then, the gods start dying at the hands of one another.

Lesser gods go first, and it is a dark day when the twins see the Lady of Flowers wither away.

The God of Crags dies by their hand.

It accomplishes little, but nor can they bear to let such a thing go.

The cycle continues to turn, and grow more vicious; some spirits rise to power in these gruesome times, their potential unlocked by adversity. Some gods grow more powerful as they slay their friends and brethren.

As the Archons rise, the twins finally feel something new: their own abilities draining.

It is a disconcerting feeling. They retain the core of their abilities—their flight, their weapon-summoning, their attacks drawn from light. But something in their existence wavers, like a hazy mirage, and they know something within them is quickly being lost.

In their confusion, they retreat as far as they can from the continuing war between gods, and for a long time, are forgotten.

Among their last memories of each other is this: their hands, grasping each other as they feel the pull of spiritual essence leaving them, whispering to each other don’t leave me, do not go without me.

We must stay together.

The nausea passes, and as they start traveling through worlds once again, they feel like they are running from something, instead.

It finds them anyway.

Teyvat is on the cusp of being consumed by war, and almost immediately after they touch down, they make the decision to leave. No, no more; enough of this. It sickens them, and they are already gathering the energy to shift elsewhere. However—

“Outlanders, your journey ends here.”

They do not know this god, but they can feel her power, and briefly, they think, perhaps, this is how others felt about them so long ago.

The twins summon their swords and their wings as the Unknown God attacks, weaving in and out of her red streaks coiling through the sky.

They are still very skilled, but they are aware: over the millennia, they have grown so weak.

And so, as decreed, their journey ends.

Lumine watches as Aether is swallowed up, and she screams for her brother when he meets her eyes in horror.

Stay together, now.

She doesn’t remember moving, already behind the white-haired god; lightning crackles in her hand, and she yells as she lunges with her blade, the sky exploding into fire upon impact.

She almost, almost grabs her brother’s small prison out of the Unknown God’s hand.

But she fails, and as Lumine too is swallowed up by black and red, she screams for her brother’s return as the red god watches on, mercilessly.

(After all, the gods do not listen to the ones who do not belong.)

Lumine wakes, cold and alone—without her brother, without her wings, without her powers.

In the end, we only have each other.

But that’s not quite true, is it?

“Aether,” she whispers, trembling, her voice cracking.

How is it that there is more to the end, and without him? They were never meant to be separated. They were never meant to exist alone.

“Why are we here, Aether?”

“Why worry about it, when we already are? Come. The sun, the flowers, the air. Isn’t that enough to live for?”

The sun, the flowers, the air. The world tilts around her, and all she can see is utter darkness, despite the blazing sunlight.

She has lived long, and much of it among mortals. She has felt sorrow, and joy, and anger.

But for the first time, as she stares up at the sky, bereft of everything that has ever mattered to her, she feels crushing, consuming despair.

#genshin impact #genshin traveler #genshin lumine #genshin aether #genshin traveler twins #genshin impact fic #fanfiction #a chapter fic?? from me?? wowza

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ladyfawkes · 4 years ago

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FINALLY UPDATED after approximately 100000 years. xD

Tangled Just Before Ever After

Words: 4730

Chapters: 2/?

Overall Summary:

Have you ever wondered what happened to Rapunzel and Eugene immediately following their first kiss in the Tower?

How they explained to one another the ways they discovered the depth of Gothel's evilness and duplicity?

How they managed to convince the Captain of the Guard that Flynn Rider was suddenly no longer a threat?

“Look at this!” Rapunzel exclaimed, surprised, as she traced out an invisible line across his palm. “There’s some of those magicky healing sparks left on your hand.” The young woman pulled back her own hand so he could see and sure enough, Eugene spied some faint twinkling beneath the very top layer of his skin. “Whaddyaknow?” he shrugged. “Huh.” A thought occurred to him and Eugene wondered if the glittery effect was now permanent. He surmised that it shouldn’t be and that it’d wear off soon enough...hopefully.

Chapter Two: The Lock-Picking Frog

Eugene and Rapunzel sat down together on one of the lower steps of the Tower’s inner staircase. She took his left hand in her lap, turned it palm upwards, and said, “Wait a minute….” brought up the same hand closer to her face and peered at it quizzically.

“I wonder…..” Rapunzel quickly let go his hand and reached across Eugene’s waist, her own left hand now hovering over the rips in his doublet and shirt where Gothel’s dagger had pierced him. And although she blushed a very lovely shade of pink upon asking him, the princess asked, “May I?” while pointing to his right flank.

And Eugene couldn’t mask his curiosity; his eyebrows arose right along with his elbows as he gave Rapunzel better access to his midsection. Far be it from him to stop the beautifullest young woman of his dreams from unfastening his doublet untucking his shirt for him. And although Eugene politely looked elsewhere partly for her sake, and partly for fear he might lose his gallant resolve…. He still very much wanted to say something cheeky or pithy or romantic or --

“Looks like my theory is correct,” reported Rapunzel. “Hmm?” Eugene was bewildered and his brow furrowed. “Theory?” he echoed, not entirely able to hide his disappointment at the aloofness of her reply. This wasn’t what he’d expected from this interaction at all. Eugene supposed he should’ve known better.

“Uhmmm,” said Rapunzel, suddenly shy again, “Well, I had guessed that the places on your body where you’ve been wounded the worst and most recently would therefore most likely possess some residual magic.” She sat back up and pointed toward his torso, “Looks like I was correct.”

And Eugene raised his shirt to look down at the place where the mortal wound once was, glimpsing for himself the same shimmering phenom of which Rapunzel spoke. That particular sparkling penetrated far deeper into his flank than what appeared near the surface of his palm, however.

Rapunzel kissed the inside of her hand and gently caressed the healed area on Eugene's side with those same fingertips. It was a gesture so pure and tender that again he found his heart melting with just how gentle she was with him -- the hardened criminal. Because this particular sensation…..what he felt now, what he’d felt when Rapunzel was tracing and kissing every inch of his face, and especially when Rapunzel had initially and carefully healed the palm of his hand two days before….it was so fantastic and new. And what Eugene could not have known then is that he was positively starving for it. He soaked up every drop of her kindness as if she were the sole oasis in his desert of loneliness. It’s why the young man knew he couldn’t let her walk away from him even after their special night of lanterns had concluded.

For Rapunzel hadn’t merely healed his largest mortal wound with her tears or the slicing through his palm with her hair. Without disdain or mockery or any form of guile, this unassuming young woman was healing parts of Eugene that he hadn’t even realized were chronically aching and long ago flayed raw in the first place. He had become numb and oblivious to all of it. Yet this impossibly kind and loving young soul was offering unconditional acceptance to Flynn Rider, the misunderstood career criminal whom everyone in all the seven kingdoms (and beyond) had come to loathe. Since the moment he met her, Rapunzel’s mere presence had become like sweet salve for his bruised soul. Even if it took Eugene the rest of his life, he vowed to himself that he would strive to be worthy of his dearest Rapunzel.

Eugene carefully gathered up Rapunzel under his arm and she leaned into him as they embraced again. Rapunzel was….almost impossibly genuine. Is this what real love has always felt like??, he mused. There’d been times Eugene had experienced such deep sadness and devastation in his life that it felt like his heart would certainly break. In fact, he had experienced that exact emotion as recently as that very morning during his imprisonment….. And it wasn’t because he feared dying…..it’s because he was all but certain he’d never see Rapunzel again. Never get to rescue her from wherever the Stabbingtons had gone off with her.

Prior to meeting Rapunzel, Eugene hadn’t ever experienced so much love and peace and contentment, it seemed as if his heart might burst from inability to contain itself. Once again, he appeared to have dozed off with Rapunzel squished up against him. Eugene yawned tiredly, internally berating himself and wondering why on earth he was so exhausted…. Until realization finally dawned that it had been over 24 hours since either he or Rapunzel had been able to get any sleep or rest whatsoever. It appeared to have finally caught up to them now that the worst of the danger had passed.

“So...how did you figure it all out?” Rapunzel asked softly, still holding him close with her head nestled against his chest. “It had to be pretty early on. Especially considering our entire first discussion regarding ‘backstory’....” And Eugene chuckled.

“You’re right, you’re right,” he replied. “I had definitely begun to suspect something was up by the time we were running through that underground escape system. There were just too many coincidences. A few being that: a.) it was the 18th year of Corona’s lantern festival and you just happened to be turning 18; b.) magicalness notwithstanding nobody else in the whole world had hair like yours -- its length and tensile strength belied its beaming gossamer beauty; c.) I’ve seen children -- even young adults -- utterly terrified of their parents, and for good reason; while I originally thought it was just a figure of speech when you said you “never left the tower”, I came to know you were being quite literal...therefore d.) you had further cemented my belief that you are Corona’s princess when you shared with me the ways in which your magical hair worked.

Suddenly, some insistent squeaking noises in front of them on the floor broke into the conversation. Eugene’s head whipped toward his right and looked down.

“Well, hullo there, Li’l Froggy,” he greeted Pascal warmly. This caused Pascal to glance over at Rapunzel with a wry look as he sighed long-sufferingly. “Yup. I think you’re stuck with it now, Pascal,” Rapunzel agreed. Pascal held out his claws heavenward, shrugged, and then hopped up on Eugene’s free wrist and scaled up toward his left shoulder, around his neck, finally perching on Eugene’s right shoulder. He squeaked something lengthy to Eugene. And Eugene, who wasn’t yet fully versed in Pascallese, had to ask Rapunzel to interpret.

“First of all,” Rapunzel began, “he says that ‘Frog’ is a rather insulting nickname but he’ll cut you some slack, being that you died, came back, and fainted all in the past 30 minutes.”

“Whoa-ho! Well, thanks for that vote of confidence,” a smirking Eugene sarcastically replied to the cheeky lizard on his shoulder.

“Second of all, while you and I were...talking,” continued Rapunzel, “Pascal scared up that hairpin and sewing needle you’d mentioned needing for picking locks. He says if you hold up your wrist with the shackle and instruct him right now in real time, he’s willing to help pick that lock with you,” and Rapunzel grinned.

“A lock-picking frog, eh?” Eugene marvelled, in spite of himself. He couldn’t help it -- the still-too-loud-Flynn Rider half of his brain was going wild considering that potential. “That is definitely gonna come in handy someday, ” he said with a faint smile on his face.

Eugene grabbed in his left hand the hairpin that Pascal had brought. The young man made sure it was bent crookedly in a certain way at one end and handed it back to Pascal. Next Eugene held up his shackled wrist and proceeded to coach the little chameleon in how to use the tricks of a thief’s trade. Twice more, Eugene modified the end of the hairpin, always handing it back to Pascal. Within about 90 seconds, the rusted manacle had popped open and slid off Eugene’s wrist onto the floor…..where he couldn’t help but notice a blood stain on the nearby tile below.

To divert Rapunzel’s attention (and his own), Eugene hastily put his boot over the top of the stain and made a big show of finally being free of the manacle. “Ahhh!!” he massaged his right wrist, “that’s more like it! Tiny high-fives, Froggy!” Eugene reached out his index finger toward Pascal who was still perched upon his right shoulder. The chameleon then “fived” Eugene’s fingertip with his bitzy claw.

Rapunzel helped Eugene all the way to his feet and with great relief, he stretched his long legs and even longer back all the way up to his full considerable height. As he was stretching over backward, allowing his spine some satisfying cracks, Eugene surprisingly felt someone touching his bare skin and stole a downward glance at Rapunzel, who was once again examining the former wound in his side.

The young woman noticed a bit too late that she’d already been seen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Eugene had stopped stretching and was now peering down at her. Rapunzel instantly withdrew her hands as that now familiar delightful shade of pink blossomed under her freckles and she mumbled an apology. She instinctively backed away a step, looked up, and said, "You're even taller than I remembered."

#Tangled fanfiction #my fanfiction #Rapunzel + Eugene #TJBEA #rta #Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure #Pascal chameleon #Frog #Tangled the series #TTS #eugene fitzherbert #eugene

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hollownest-queen · 5 years ago

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Thank you for 102 Followers ;;

Dream realm

*Blasphemous*GodSeeker:

Our high supreme light for centuries and eons Protect us from the darkness .We stood by her side seeking her knowledge, ascension.However until one day she was slaughter by a small vessel of light and void and was consumed by the void itself.There from the bottom of the abyss they transform into thier supreme form of light and void.Taking the soulless children away from thier tombs to the realm of nightmares to receive life in a new form,to live in the society of the voids own making.However this thing isn’t going to stop climbing for power I sence its wanting more than the two godly realms it controls.

Mortal Realm

Queen Hornet:

I am haunted by my fathers sins.I refuse to follow in his unholy steps of slaughter .I banished the transcripts of the expirments of void.I refuse to let the past repeat itself or to become the monster that was my father.But however one opposes me ....Her.Her goal is unclear but one thing is for certain I won’t let the past sins become reality .Her loyalty between my kingdom and the realm of darkness is shaken by what?I can’t trust her ,she must be questioned.....

Nightmare Realm

Lord shade of Lights:

rise my kin raise from your communal graves.Your torment from this realm is no more.My new form has become infinity as the new ruler of dreams and nightmares I’ll shall break your shackles of death and given new bodies in the realm of nightmares .I promise you free will to follow your heart desires and not binded by the will of your father.Now come there is no time to delay there is so much to be done.

#hollow knight ghost #hollow knight #art #hollow knight void #hollow knight radiance #digital art #thank you #artists on tumblr #hollowknight oc #hornet queen #Void #godseeker

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wordsablaze · 4 years ago

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Mortal Fears, Immortal Love

Jaskier is widely regarded as being brave but he's certainly no stranger to being afraid. Or, the three times Eskel helps soothe his fears - day seven of @jaskierwhumpweek

A/N: and we’ve reached the end of this lil series, it’s been so fun <3 today’s prompt: “fear”

Homes can be dangerous places.

Jaskier knows this because he’d foolishly agreed to visit his hometown when Eskel had been requested to help with the wraith problem there.

He shouldn’t have agreed; he should have said something, he should have come up with an excuse, he should have at least tried to adjust their plans. But he had agreed and that makes being locked in his brother’s basement his own fault, really.

“Julian.”

Jaskier’s head snaps up and he scowls. “I haven’t gone by that name for years.”

His brother, Elias, glances over him and raises an eyebrow. “It doesn’t appear as though it’s been many years for you.”

“And yet you are more wrinkled than the stray cat who scratched you into a fever,” Jaskier retorts, smirking.

Elias clenches his jaw but then gestures around the dimly lit room. “Say what you will but you’re the one in chains.”

And he’s not wrong. There are shackles around his ankles and his wrists, additional chains connecting those to the wall behind him, and he wants to say he’s not scared but the fact that Elias seems to have planned this is definitely unsettling.

“You’re a fool if you think you can keep me here,” Jaskier spits.

But Elias just laughs. “Are you relying on your witcher, Julian? Because he’s not going to return for another week if all goes to plan.”

Jaskier’s stomach drops.

“What? You didn’t know that I was the one who asked for him? Aren’t you meant to be well-informed as a bard?”

Jaskier doesn’t say anything, he’s too busy being afraid that they’ve sent Eskel into a trap. He’s never going to forgive himself if his witcher dies by his brother’s plan, especially not if it’s because he’d been a blind fool.

“Luckily for you, I have something to take your mind off it,” Elias continues, and Jaskier frowns; It’d never been a good sign when he’d said that as a child and it doesn’t seem like one now.

“Men!”

Before Jaskier can think to move, there’s someone holding his arms down above his head and someone else pressing his knees to the cold ground and Elias is kneeling above him, smiling in a way that suggests he doesn’t know a smile is meant to be a good thing.

“What are you doing?” Jaskier asks, struggling, succeeding only in causing the chains to rattle as he pulls on them.

Elias unsheathes a dagger and twirls it between his fingers - the horror grows in Jaskier’s stomach as he realises it’s one of his own.

“Do you remember how you would write notes to yourself on your skin when our teachers confiscated your notebooks?”

Jaskier inhales sharply and tugs on his limbs but Elias pays him no heed and all he manages to do is rub the shackles painfully against his wrists and ankles.

Elias unbuttons his shirt and presses the tip of the dagger on the skin just above his heart. “Why don’t we remind you where your heart should lie?”

And then he pierces skin.

Jaskier tries not to make a sound, he really does, but he can only bite his lip for so long and eventually the sharp pain becomes too loud and he just wants to drown it out and his voice takes that as an invitation to escape his lips.

“Please, don’t-!”

He wants to curl up but he can’t, the hands keeping him in place are using bruising force, and all he can do is throw his head back and scream.

Elias is saying something but he can’t hear it because it hurts, it hurts so much, and he wishes he were stronger so he could stop it from hurting but he can’t, he can’t do anything and he’s so scared, he’s-

“Jaskier!”

The dagger freezes inside his skin and he whimpers, too scared to worry about the tears he can feel sliding off his face.

“Get off him!”

There’s a moment of silence before the dagger moves again, half a scream being pulled from his lips.

And then there’s chaos.

Jaskier doesn’t even know what’s happening, he just scrambles backwards until he hits a wall and slumps against it, one hand weakly pressed against what he can feel to be his given name carved just above his heart.

“Hey, Jaskier, look at me,” a voice asks, and he vaguely notes that it sounds much nicer than his own had sounded when he was screaming.

“Jas, it’s just me, it’s Eskel,” the voice that he now remembers is the witcher he loves tells him.

“I’m getting you out of here, Jaskier,” Eskel promises.

Oh.

The only thing that Jaskier can focus on is how Eskel keeps calling him Jaskier. He’d been so, so afraid that Elias had turned him back into Julian but no, he’d been wrong, he was always Jaskier to Eskel and as long as Eskel is okay, he can still be Jaskier.

“It hurts, I’m sorry, it hurts,” Jaskier whimpers as Eskel tries to pull him up, the chains clicking against themselves as he does.

Eskel presses his lips to Jaskier’s forehead. “You’re okay, you’re going to be okay.”

Being okay is debatable but he's definitely not going to be Elias’ Julian - he’s going to be Eskel’s Jaskier.

-///-

Taverns can be dangerous places.

Jaskier knows this because he’s been in countless tavern brawls and he’s been thrown out of them more times than he can count.

But the worst part of staying in taverns is the people who can’t handle being denied.

“I told you, I can’t,” Jaskier repeats for the third time.

“Come on, just one night. It won’t make a difference,” the man who’d never taken his eyes off him all evening says.

“I appreciate the thought,” Jaskier replies, “but I really do have places to be and- hey!”

The man tugs sharply on his arm and although he pulls himself free, it’s not before they’re outside. He makes to go back inside but the man grabs his wrist and pulls him back, pressing him against the tavern wall.

“Listen, I won’t stand for this,” Jaskier warns, but this time, he can’t get his wrist free.

He tries to shove his knee into the man’s stomach but he dodges and twists Jaskier’s wrist enough to make his entire arm go numb.

Jaskier gasps, doubling over.

“Shame, we could have done this the nice way,” the man says, sounding genuinely remorseful.

“We’re not doing this at all,” Jaskier bites out, punching the man’s throat and slipping out of his grip when he splutters.

But then there’s an arm around his waist and he’s being spun until he’s back against the wall, the man’s legs bracketing his own. Too late does he notice that the man’s teeth are just a little too sharp, his eyes just a little too bright.

“Who exactly are you?” Jaskier breathes, fear pooling in his stomach.

“Just an admirer,” the man drawls, running one of his nails down the side of Jaskier’s face as his whole body freezes.

Something dawns on Jaskier. “You’re the one Eskel is hunting.”

The man grins, leaning closer, practically whispering into his ear, “And you’re the one I was hunting.

Coldness clutches at Jaskier’s heart and he struggles once more but the man - not really a man but Jaskier isn’t sure what he is, to be honest - just tuts, tightening his grip on Jaskier’s wrist. “You should have said yes, bard.”

“And just let you kill me?” Jaskier scoffs.

The man tilts his head to one side. “All I wanted was one night. You wouldn’t even remember,” he says, causing dread to fill Jaskier’s veins.

“No, no no n-”

“Shh.” The man places his finger on Jaskier’s lips and he can’t help but shudder at how cold his touch is.

Only when fingers gently, creepily tug on his hair and guide his head backwards does Jaskier realise the man has let go of his wrist. His eyes widen but he doesn’t move, not wanting to waste his opportunity.

He waits until he hears a familiar set of footsteps before lifting his arms and shoving with everything he has, ignoring the ghost of the man’s lips against his neck.

And it works.

Because the man who isn’t really a man screams as Eskel’s sword slices into him.

He’s dead before he hits the floor but Jaskier doesn’t care, all he cares about is replacing that cold touch with Eskel’s warm embrace, which he does immediately, even as his legs threaten to liquefy under him. And Eskel holds him up despite his weak limbs, pulling him close, murmuring apologies that Jaskier will make him take back later.

For now, he’s content to replace his fear with the safety of simply being near Eskel.

-///-

Hearts can be dangerous places.

Jaskier knows this because he's managed to fall in love dozens of times and living in the hearts of others has never worked out well for him.

Either he's thrown out of both hearts and beds alike or he has to sacrifice his love in order to continue with his life.

And he's tired of it.

He doesn't want to settle down but he wants to be rooted all the same.

He wants to go to the coast and he wants to have somewhere to call his own and he really just wants to know he can hide in someone's heart when the world becomes too much of a storm.

But he's scared.

He's scared to ask anyone to commit to such a thing because people don't usually want to hear the work that goes into his songs and nobody can tolerate his impractical tenancies.

So he's stuck being thrown from one place to another, taking everything he owns wherever he goes in fear of it getting stolen, never being able to stay in one place and relax for more than a week or so at a time. And he’s actually pretty good at pretending he’s fine.

That is, until a storm hits while he and Eskel are camped outside.

Neither of them feel it coming - only because it was magically-induced, as they later discover - until they’re woken by heavy rain that soaks them before they’re truly awake.

“Jaskier, come on!” Eskel yells from somewhere to Jaskier’s left.

He blinks away rain from his eyes and stumbles towards Eskel, grabbing onto his arm and anchoring himself as Eskel navigates them to a more sheltered section of the forest.

It’s not a perfect solution but the trees are more tightly packed and they can barely feel the rain so the two of them huddle under the largest one, both flinching when they first hear thunder.

“My notebooks,” Jaskier whimpers, moving to find said objects without thinking.

Eskel pulls him back, keeping him still. “I’m sorry but I don’t think they’ll be readable anymore.”

Jaskier doesn’t know why that bothers him so much but he can distinctly feel his face crumple. It’s hardly the first time such a thing has happened and it’s unlikely to be the last but he’s just so tired of it, so tired of being constantly scared he’s going to lose his work.

“What’s wrong?” Eskel asks softly.

“Nothing,” Jaskier mumbles, trying to convince himself he’s fine so Eskel can’t just smell how upset he is, but thunder chooses that moment to rumble once more and Jaskier flinches so hard he headbutts Eskel’s chin.

To his credit, Eskel doesn't remotely complain, pulling Jasker closer and curving himself around him to protect him from the incessant rain. Neither of them say anything until there’s a flash of lightning and Jaskier whimpers ever so quietly.

“Are you ready to tell me what’s wrong yet?” Eskel asks, his voice as soft as velvet. “You’re not usually so afraid of storms. In fact, I’ve even seen you dance in them before.”

Jaskier sighs. “Maybe I don’t want to dance in storms anymore. Maybe I want to be safe inside, with a roof over my lute and notebooks so I don’t lose all my work!” He’s scared and angry but his voice keeps wobbling so he just ends up sounding a little broken.

Eskel traces little circles over his skin before nodding. “The town wasn’t far, we can-”

Jaskier shakes his head again, this time bitterly. “Go back so I have to sing my way into securing a decent meal? I’ll pass, thank you.”

“Where do you want to go then?” Eskel asks eventually, his voice oddly hesitant.

Jaskier feels awful immediately. He turns and weaves his fingers into Eskel’s hair, not caring that it’s literally dripping wet, and places a small kiss on Eskel’s nose. “I don’t want to go anywhere, darling, I want to stay with you. I want-”

When he just bites his lip instead of finishing his sentence, Eskel lifts a hand and brushes his hair out of his face. “What do you want, bardling?”

Jaskier doesn’t know. He’s scared of knowing what he wants because nothing he wants - that is, nobody he wants - usually stays with him for long and if he doesn’t officially set his heart on anything - that is, anyone - then he can’t officially have his heart broken.

But Eskel isn’t just anyone.

“Jaskier. What do you want?”

Thunder rumbles as if on cue and Jaskier jumps, squeezing his eyes shut. He only opens them again when he feels Eskel’s arms wrap around him like a shield, a blanket, a cage he’d be happy to be locked within forever.

He exhales slowly, looking up at Eskel. “What do you think about the coast?”

Eskel frowns and for a horrible moment, Jaskier is terrified that those words were a trigger to the end of everything they share. But then Eskel offers him a small smile and nods, leaning closer as he whispers, “As soon as the storm passes.”

And by gods if that doesn’t mean the world to Jaskier.

“Are you sure?” he asks, this time barely even registering the lightning that crackles somewhere above them.

Eskel nods again. “A roof over your head and the ocean at your door, I promise.”

Jaskier gently elbows him. “A roof over our heads, I think you mean, and the ocean at our door?”

The smile on Eskel’s face is worth almost as much as his promise.

So although the thunder and lightning continue, Jaskier finds that the heavy fear he’d been harbouring slides from his shoulders along with the rain. For the first time in a very, very long time, he’s unafraid of whatever kinds of storms life throws his way.

Because for once, he’s not uncertain about where to go next and okay, they haven’t figured everything out, but he can be sure that a witcher - or at least, his witcher - wouldn’t commit to anything without intending to stick around for good.

And in Eskel’s arms, he can finally be fearless.

previous: “insecurities”

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier

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mousehole5000 · 4 years ago

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this is it... the final post.... 226 through THE END!!!!!

this shit with mu qing and the river of lava is SOOOO dramatic im loving it

oh my god theyre on a FUCKING bridge of course they are okay let’s go boys

“You’re right. We’re alike. You think me odd, I think you to be rather weird too.” - so what im getting from this is that xie lian and mu qing are the only characters in this book with working gaydar okay yup got it this checks out

god... the fact that xie lian is ready to be like “look mu qing we can just forget about the past it doesnt matter we dont have to be friends i know you dont like me but im not gonna let you die over it” and then mu qing is like “.... god i really do admire you huh”

“You...certainly...are rather amazing. You’re...also...a better person...than me. Long story short, I...very much wanted...to become your f-f-friend.” - going to think about this for the rest of all time im about to become utterly unintelligible im overcome with emotions

“And, at the end of the white silk band, Feng Xin was gripping Ruoye with one hand while the other was holding on to a steel-faced Mu Qing, and he shouted towards him.” - the fucking IMAGE of this im gonna cry this is everything i could have asked for im so happy also mu qing dangling there like “ welp. guess ill live“

“Feng Xin was almost burnt by that pillar of fire, and he shouted in outrage. “WHAT’S WITH THIS BAND OF DOG SHITS, ATTACKING PEOPLE WHILE THEY’RE DOWN, SO VILE! FUCK YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY!” Xie Lian responded, “IF THEIR ENTIRE FAMILIES ALL LOOK LIKE THAT, YOU SURE YOU WANT TO FUCK THEM??” - theyre so funny!!! and theyre best friends!!! theyre joking together now in the middle of all this i could cry theyre back!!!

“Using sticks as arrows, he held the bow with one hand and used his teeth to bite back the bowstring.” - no clue how practical this is but okay archer boy. hot

i actually have so many little quips between the three of them highlighted but we’d be here all night if i included them all. im literally so delighted by this omg worth the wait

“Each sabre strike slashed to the bone. It wasn’t like Xie Lian had never seen Hua Cheng use the sabre before in the past, but his style had always been easy and leisurely, nonchalant and casual. Rather than say he was handling a weapon, it was more like he was toying with a small knife. Yet those blade marks were filled with killing intent. It was easy to imagine just how skilled the one exchanging blows with him was, and how perilous this battle.” you have no idea how mad i was when i read this and thought we missed witnessing the fight between hc and jw omg

“Behind him, Feng Xin muttered, “Dear fucking god, may all the gods and buddhas grant their blessings, that better absolutely be Crimson Rain Sought Flower, otherwise he’s gonna go mad!” “Stop your rubbish,” Mu Qing berated. “We’re all the gods and buddhas ourselves and we can’t grant shit, just keep up with him! Look at the stumbling way he’s running, he’s gonna trip and fall to his bloody death before he even sees the man!” - okay i know i said no more quips but this is literally too funny i just wanted to read it again

“ However, for whatever reason, that vicious ghost, in its muddled state, took that large group of live mortals under its wing and fled for many days. In the end, they were still surrounded by millions of ghosts, trapped in a dead end, and it was going to be eaten along with those humans.” [...] “That vicious ghost almost made a move against those humans, but for some reason, in the end, it didn’t. It instead used one of its own eyes as the price to forge a blood weapon. That vicious ghost was already forcibly hanging on with its last breath; after digging out its eye it should’ve broken apart completely. Yet somehow something had shocked it, and it instead woke to its senses completely. “ - THIS IS AMAZING ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? IS THIS ALL WE GET ABOUT HIS GHOSTLY LORE?????? HUA CHENGGGGGGGG

“What a terrible offence, his old habit had come out, and he quickly apologized. “I’m sorry! You don’t have to listen to me!” Hua Cheng, however, only smiled happily. “Everything gege tells me is the best advice, so why wouldn’t I listen?” - this isnt the fucking time afjdkfjsdkl they really never stop

“So you can hold the illusion of a perfect Crown Prince of Wuyong to face and dismiss the Jun Wu now. Isn’t that your objective? Did you think I don’t know what you’re thinking?” “THAT’S NOT IT!” Guoshi cried. “Stop getting tied up in right and wrong, victories and defeat, I’VE NEVER THOUGHT THAT WAY BEFORE!” - jun wu only being able to see xie lian as his successor and believing that thats all anyone else sees too... okay

honestly this whole final showdown was a blast i cant put everything in but it was so much fun to read. the DRAMA the LAVA the SHOUTING t

“Hua Cheng had poured too much spiritual power into him. There really was too much, so much that it was completely outside the amount the cursed shackle could withstand.” - okay.... okay... the love you give will set you free... okay....

“With Jun Wu in his grip, he carried both their bodies and forcefully slammed into the incomparably-solid rock wall! He used all of his power in this smash, and in the rumbling and crashing of rocks, he also heard the sound of something breaking.” [...] “A moment later, Jun Wu suddenly asked, “That move. What is it called?” “...” Xie Lian raised his sleeve and wiped away the blood on the side of his face. “Shattering boulders on the chest.” YES!!!!! YES!!!!! xie lian actually lived that life!!!!!! i loved this detail so much

“After a moment of silence, Xie Lian took off the bamboo hat carried on his back, took it in his hand, and covered it over Jun Wu’s face.” - xie lian... good... another detail i love. a hat that protects from the rain, given in a moment of need, even to someone who has caused you hardship... we do not forget the kindness granted to us

“There was gratefulness, there was shame, there was heartache, there was wild joy, but above all else, there was incurable love.” - :pleading: i wish it was just that easy tbh. “i have to tell you about the worst parts of myself” “ive already seen them and i dont care i still love you“ truly the dream

“ It’s been so long since anyone listened to me talk, won’t you stay? Don’t...actually do this. I won’t be able to take it. Twice, it’s been twice already! I really don’t want there to be a third time!!!” - the bit about just wanting someone to listen to him talk... xie lian... :(

emily corpse bride moment.... i knew it had to happen.... butterflies.... death and rebirth.... inevitable

xianle trio bickering about ruoye..... mu qing complaining but not letting anyone else fix it... im so happy

“The Rain Master sat down on the spot, looking like she was going to perform a passing service for her. After all, Xuan Ji was the only one left of the Kingdom of Yushi besides herself.” - xuan ji you sure the hell were... a character. this little moment tho..... yushi huang... many thoughts

“ Who hasn’t made promises, or swore to the mountains and the seas when they were young? Talking of affection, of love, of forevers. But, the longer I hang around in the world, the more I understand, something like ‘forever’ is impossible. It’s never going to be possible. Having it once was already good enough. No one can truly achieve it. I don’t believe in it anymore.” - jian lan im happy for you bummer it didnt work out with feng xin but yeah that was looooong ago. also this quote me same mood kin but its chill. having it once was already good enough

although yeah tbh if theres anyone who can have a forever like that... it would be a ghost and a god

fasdfjadklfj GOD... pour one out for ling wen.. but is that not the truth of this world? the one can be pardoned for being good at paperwork that no one else wants to do? isnt that the plot of the shawshank redemption?

okay but the fact that all xie lian’s friends come to visit him while he waits for hua cheng is making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.... fengqing coming together to try to get him out of the house but get scared off by his cooking... amazing

“Last time, they spent eight hundred years running towards each other. This time, it only took an instant to fall into each other’s embrace.” - im completely unaffected by this. im not lying i swear (i am lying im very emotionally affected)

okay i love this final wrap up chapter party its so fun. mu qing moving on from the broom thing!!! good for him!! the beggars get their reward!!! the fun ghost city chefs!! SQX!!!! and he xuan is?? here too??? he’s hungry??? fjadlkfjsdl

“The grounds that Feng Xin and Mu Qing had just swept were once again filthy from that giant crowd of muddy feet. Mu Qing gripped his broom, looking like he felt someone had infected him with fleas, and his eyes were wide.” - me when my dad comes into the kitchen when ive just finished washing dishes i get it king

the little folklore bit... fun!!! oh my god its over..... :(

that was really fun i had a blast reading it and on the whole really liked it i WISH soo badly that hua cheng had gotten more outside of being cunty and devoted even tho those are both important i just wish there was more about like how he got by during those 800 years and like did he ever have doubts? what shaped his worldview was it all xie lian or was it his experience as a mortal as well? why is he so mean to e’ming? theres bits and pieces here and there and i know it was already SO long but that really would have been great if there was more about hc cuz tbh by the end, at least for me, the hualian relationship didnt actually feel as fleshed out as the xianle trio relationship like i still liked hualian’s dynamic and it was really sweet how much they clearly really liked each other and everything but i kind of wish some of the other subplots had been dropped or diminished in favor of more hc development i think that would have been cool

but anyway thats some of my thoughts and i really did enjoy the hell out of book 5 that was a riot and uhhh thanks to everyone who read these or commented *lends you spiritual energy through a high five*

#tgcf liveblog #it is Complete i can move on now #i actually have a lot more thoughts about hl because i uhhhh relate. to things. and have opinions due to my experiences #but its also quite Personal soooo i might just keep them tucked away #anyway im freeeeeee #mouse mumbles

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robbyrobinson · 4 years ago

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OWL HOUSE X CTHULHU MYTHOS (XVI)

The next thing Eda, Lilith, and King knew, they were being escorted into the dungeon whilst still being stronghold by a few of the imperial guards. Nyarlathotep walked in front of them, humming some tune to himself. Once more, he was in his Black Pharaoh form. He turned to look at the prisoners with a half-amused smile. “Be sure to make yourselves at home.”

At the entrance of the dungeon with its large, heavy iron casing, stood Warden Wrath. He gave a slight bow towards the Crawling Chaos to which Nyarlathotep responded to with a wave of his hand. “At ease, Wrath.”

Wrath examined the prisoners. His yellow button-like lens of his mask lit up. “Eda, the Owl Lady! We meet again.”

Eda groaned in irritation. “Oh, Titan, not him.”

Nyarlathotep smirked and tried to stifle a laugh. “I take it that you know this woman?”

“Yes, my lord; the Owl Lady was the one that always escaped my clutches! Yet for as much as I desired her, she always rejected my advances.”

He walked up to Eda and morphed his hand into a bouquet of flowers. He held it in front of Eda’s face. “Perhaps now that there is no escape, you could change your mind?”

Before Eda could reply, Nyarlathotep broke the two up. While his smile was still visible on his face, he tapped his finger against the side of a wall. The sound of his finger echoed through the walls in a dry, hollow thrust. Warden Wrath immediately backed away. Nyarlathotep’s glare never faltered.

“The human girl is essential in my plans; what would you think would happen if she knew that you laid a finger on her mentor? Need I remind you of the punishment that could transpire for your insolence?”

Warden Wrath held his hands up. “Yes, my lord. Forgive me.”

“You are forgiven; now show the three guests to their room.”

Warden Wrath and the guards took the prisoners and tossed them into a glass cage. Once all three were in, the bindings that were placed on their limbs were removed. When the last guard exited the cage, the door was sealed shut with a wave of the guard’s finger. Nyarlathotep took a chair and propped it down to sit on it. His smile widening to the point of wrapping around the sides of his head, he crossed his leg and held a cup. Almost on cue, another guard arrived on the scene and poured a liquid into it. Nyarlathotep grasped the head of the cup and brought it to his lips.

“What is your game, Nyarlathotep?” Eda asked.

The glass clicked against the Crawling Chaos’ teeth. He brought the cup down and sighed. “I really love this apple blood you witches brew; maybe moreso than the typical games I engineer.”

“What are you planning on doing to us?” King said.

“You are all much too valuable to threaten,” Nyarlathotep stated, “it’s really the most mundane of gambits, but I am keeping you all hostage for as long as I like.”

Eda knelt down and clasped some of the shackles. She then made an unprovoked dash towards the glass. The cuffs slammed against the cage. Instead of doing what she had hoped, sparks of white lightning struck her and propelled her back to the ground. The walls jiggled from the magic that composed them. Once the gelatinous walls settled down, the cage regained its still composure. Eda tried it again only to be met with the same result.

“What is this?” Lilith inquired. She casually poked her finger on the wall only to draw it back when a surge of lightning shocked her. She clutched her other hand over that one.

“It is a wall that was created by some alchemist using some of my dark magic,” Nyarlathotep explained. “Any normal magic you witches could dish out will only bounce off it. It has the additional benefit of absorbing the magic and blows of other people making it three times as strong as it initially was.”

“That can’t be true,” Eda denied, “every cage can be broken...just takes effort.”

Nyarlathotep got up from his chair and rubbed his chin. “It isn’t like you can do much; I sense that your magic bile sac is faulty.”

“For your explanation, if you must know that I ended up using it in order to save Luz.”

Lilith looked down at the floor. She really wished that she could forget driving her sister to that point, but what was done was done. There was little inconceivable way that Eda would be able to perform magic again through the biological way.

“Even if you and your sister, hypothetically speaking of course, transform into your beastly forms, that will not be enough to free you from that cage. Unless...”

Eda’s eyebrow arched. “Unless what?”

“You and your sister can always align yourself with me; I can remove your curses if you so please.”

Eda turned her head in disgust. “Forget it; I am not going to agree to that deal especially because your little pet project lied to my sister about promising to remove my curse.”

“Of course, he was unable to remove it; he represents only a sliver of my power. If he was able to cure anyone of their ailment, it would only be a temporary fix for a temporary situation. But once I have the Necronomicon in my possession, I can remove your little curse if in return you become my acolytes.”

“I said no, Nyarlathotep. I will not spend the remainder of my days serving you until the Boiling Isles crumbles away.”

Nyarlathotep sighed in disappointment. “Very well then; I may as well should just leave you condemned to your tragic fate.”

The Black Pharaoh snapped his fingers not taking his eyes off the cage. In walked in Kikimora with a plate in her hand. On it was a silver cloche to conceal the contents within. She made a slight bowing gesture to Nyarlathotep and directed one of the guards to create a hole big enough to slide the plate into it.

“What are you doing now?” Lilith asked in confusion.

King grabbed the cloche and pulled it away. Underneath the plate were three sandwiches comprised of peanut butter and jelly. The crust of the bread was cut away leaving only the whiteness of the loaves. The three eyed the sandwiches suspiciously before directing their attention back to Nyarlathotep. He sat back down and drank more apple blood from his cup.

“You may want to eat that,” he said.

“You can go to Hell for all we care,” Eda declared.

“Hell? Aw that’s cute,” said Nyarlathotep in a chuckle. “But I do insist on eating those sandwiches; it could may as well be the last time that you eat something in your life.”

“You likely laced them with some...alien drug,” Eda said, “we do not want anything to do with your sandwich or you.”

Nyarlathotep shrugged. “No skin off my back then; the clock is ticking.”

He waved his index finger back and forth as a visual metaphor. “The Day of Unity is just about to take wing.”

“You always say things on Day of Unity this; Day of Unity that. What exactly are you detailing?” Eda asked aloud.

“It comes in two forms: first, my servant, Belos, wanted me to specifically destroy the Earth for his cause. I will admit that while I hate the idea of him gaining free will away from my control, he did keep the Isles nice and tidy while I was on temporary leave. I will do such once I regain my full power.”

Eda tensed up. Her blood ran cold; shivers went up her spine. “Why does he want that?”

“It is a very interesting story he told me: the reason he hates the Earth so much has to do with him being a temporary parent of sorts.”

Eda sat down with her sister and King. “A parent? Belos?”

She turned to look at Lilith. Lilith shrugged her shoulders expressing the same confusion that her younger sister was showing. “Belos never mentioned having any children.”

Nyarlathotep laughed. “I would suspect not; one day, some human girl found herself wondering in the Boiling Isles along with scraps of metal and other things coming from the human realm.”

“There were more portal keys out there?” Eda asked.

“I am certain that there were at least a few keys aside from the one that you had in your possession; whatever means she came here, Belos saw some potential in raising the child as a mentor. The child was always kept away in the deeper parts of his kingdom where he bestowed some of his power to her whilst keeping her being a human a top secret. The old man taught her every kind of magic there was under some belief that she would likely continue in his footsteps.”

King was ripping his teeth into one of the PB&J sandwiches and shoveling large chunks into his mouth. “Wvell, hwhat rappened?”

“She started to realize the corruption he was poisoning the Boiling Isles with, and she fought against him. Before she vanished, she left Belos in such a bloodied, beaten state, he swore to have his vengeance. From the way he described the beating he was delivered, Belos can now barely hold it together. Give or take a year and a half, I am quite certain that he would be shuffling off the mortal coil soon. With no heir to succeed him, this may as well spell the end of the coven system.”

The three prisoners looked at each other whilst mentally trying to figure out what human girl would have even dreamed of defeating Belos and leaving him in a near-death state for the rest of his rule.

Luz and Amity were arriving to Earth at a skyrocketing speed, the pressure of the air around them smacking into them. The brown rat was already further down and using the streams of cloud as a surfboard. Hypnos was following closely behind. Unlike the two girls who flailed their arms against the winds, Hypnos gracefully floated through the mist, his arms pinned squarely on his sides.

“No fair, how can you do this?” Luz asked.

“Tons of experience, and...lots of drugs,” Hypnos bluntly stated.

“Oh.”

The two turned back to glaring at the brown rat. “I have the tiniest inkling of where he is going.”

“Where?” Amity asked.

“Let me confiscate the rat, and you can find me then,” Hypnos stated.

Hypnos’ astral body curved in the air and jetted down like a heat-seeking missile. It was now just Amity and Luz plunging towards the Earth. Amity’s eyes were open in small squints. The pressure bounced off her eyes shifting them behind the back of her head. She grabbed onto Luz’s hand for dear life hoping that with her combined strength, they could slow down the speed with which they were free falling.

She looked up at the sky seeing the portal that they had just leaped from. She could hardly believe it: she was now in another realm filled with alien tech her little mind couldn’t even bear to understand. Naturally, she knew that the Earth existed because Luz was a denizen of that world. But never in her imagination or calculations could have prepared her to the implication of a multiverse. The scenarios were limitless: in one, Amity could have been the one who was not born with magic whereas Luz was. She could likely be some other species on another world with a completely different personality. Perhaps there was one where she and Luz..she couldn’t finish that thought due to her feeling the warmness of her cheeks.

“Amity, is the motion sickness making you sick?” Luz asked.

Amity shook her head to keep her thoughts at bay. “Oh...no. No, I’m fine.”

She yelped when Luz placed her forehead onto hers. “Are you sure, Amity? Your head feels warm.”

“Pfft...I’m fine, hahahaha...who’s Amity?”

Amity’s oddness aside, Luz shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, we should probably brace ourselves.”

She pointed to the ground which was now within reach. “Makes me wish Hypnos considered giving us parachutes.”

Amity was confused. “Par-A-what now?”

“Whatever, get ready...set....”

Luz wrapped her arms around the witch girl’s waist. The pupils in Amity’s eyes shrunk. “L-Luz!?”

Before she could say anything, the air tightened around the two as they faced the full brunt of the fall.

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