#Never Fall Never Rise

[myheartismadeofstars]

Never Fall, Never Rise

An AU where XL didn't ascend...but that doesn't mean everything is okay

Cults spring up convinced he's a god even though he isn't, leaving the awkward situation where his father can either anger the Heavens or the rapidly growing population of people who worship his son...(spoiler: he chooses the people)

XL ends up being constantly in danger of people trying to "prove" his divinity.

Things this story includes:

Characters all living at the same time for the fun of it (also I wanted SQX and the Xianle Trio interactions) and worldbuilding to fit

HC growing up and not dying (also finding a way to circumvent his fate and becoming immortal adjacent) (obviously he joins the baby cults for a bit before leaving)

Examinations of characters' families whether mentioned or not (including HX and FX and to a degree HC's as well)

Rivals to lovers Fengqing

XL & QYZ friendship (and salty AF QR)

HC getting what he deserves~ (he gotta work for it though)

Hualian together (like around each other, not romantically) pretty much since the Land of the Tender incident

HC living a double life since he's about 16 lol (one as Wu Ming, the loyal bodyguard and brat and the other as Lord Hua, the self made city master who everyone is afraid of)

HC using magic as a human (mostly glamours for himself and E-ming but occasionally making magical items like his dice as well)

JL is FX's legal concubine (for her own protection, he didn't want to take one) and Cuocuo gets to live and grow

No one dying unnecessarily (that doesn't mean no one suffers...)

And much more!!

However: I should warn you that this is an Omegaverse au (it wasn't supposed to be but it ended up making the most sense for ONE THING and the worldbuilding got away from me.)

[quietwingsinthesky]

im just saying that if i had been in charge of s6 of doctor who, i would have fully leaned into the horror of amy's pregnancy, the loss of her own agency in it, the way she was used as a vessel to create a child she would never hold again, amy pond who never indicated once that she even wanted a child and was made to have one anyway against her will, and once they were done using her, they even took away any choice she might make about it in the future.

and i would have had this be a factor in amy and river's relationship going forward. how do you interact with a child you never knew, never got to decide if you wanted to have, and she's also already your friend, you love her as this miraculous, insane woman who has saved your life more than once. she's always known more about you than you could about her, but now you know exactly how much she was keeping from you. it's not like she could have told you, could have stopped it, but all this time, she was your friend and she was your daughter, and how do you learn to live with her?

[strawberryswirlix]

[zu-is-here]

Selfish request of Dreammare pls ?

Pygmalion

idea by @clownyclowns

Dream & Nightmare by jokublog

+ the perfect finger sketch :'D

[nordidia]

what? they were eepy! what is he gonna do, sue them? (he would take it to court actually nvm)

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: death mention / strangulation mention / stabbing mention / blood mention / self-sacrifice / codependency mention in tags / ]

I think a lot about how common it is for Raph to be the one to have direct focus put on him when Leo gets into all his near death experiences.

Like, when Leo is thrown off a building, it’s Raph who’s right there jumping after him, not even thinking about the consequences to himself when he does. When Leo almost gets skewered by the Krang, Raph’s right there to take the blow and send Leo to safety without a second thought. When Leo’s being strangled to near death, it’s a Krangified Raph doing the job, doing exactly what Raph would never, ever want to do. When Leo is telling Casey Jr to close the portal, it’s Raph who tries desperately to convince Leo otherwise.

Likewise, Leo is consistently very single minded when Raph gets forcibly separated from them. Both when in the sewers and by the Krang, Leo is dead set on finding Raph first and foremost.

I also think it’s interesting that during each of Leo’s near death experiences, the lightheartedness of his words during them goes directly hand in hand with both how close Raph is to him physically and how much danger Raph is also in in that moment. From a literal “I told you so” as Leo’s falling away from Raph to a soft joke about how “hero moves” are Raph’s style - both of these are on the more morbidly carefree side and both of these notably take Leo farther away from Raph and, in turn, have Raph not in immediate danger.

On the other side of things is the apology from Leo, heedless of the danger he himself is in as he seriously and genuinely speaks to a Krangified Raph face to face. Then there’s Leo’s freezing and desperation as Raph takes a hit meant for him and sends just Leo to safety, leaving Raph himself behind. Both of these involve much closer proximity and Raph being directly harmed - these together make Leo much more vulnerable in his words and actions, something not even the threat of death can make him.

These two care about each other so much, and they’re way too much alike for their own good.

[cherubchoirs]

introductions

[jays-supersonic-dynamo]

amnesia was her name. she had beautiful eyes.

[writerbuddha]

Revenge of the Sith ends with the setting twin suns and the baby twins, sending the message of hope: just like one can't stop the suns from setting, one can't stop them from rising either.

[crypticmessengergoblin]

[wonder-worker]

I've been thinking about the tragedy of Elizabeth Woodville living to see the end of her family name.

I don't mean her family with her husband, which lived on through her daughter and grandson. I mean her own.

Her sisters died, one by one, many of them after 1485. When Elizabeth died, only Katherine was left, and she would die before the turn of the century as well.

All her brothers died, too. Lewis died in childhood. John was executed. Anthony was murdered. Lionel died suddenly in the peak of Richard's reign, unable to see his niece become queen. Edward perished at war. Richard died in grieving peace. For all the violence and judgement the family endured, it was "an accident of biology" that ended their line: none of the brothers left heirs, and the Woodville name was extinguished. We know the family was aware of this. We know they mourned it, too:

“Buy a bell to be a tenor at Grafton to the bells now there, for a remembrance of the last of my blood.”

Elizabeth lived through the deposition and death of her young sons, and lived to see the end of her own family name. It must have been such a haunting loss, on both sides.

[cursedcatchild]

So, here is a little art since it's spooky season.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

It's such a cruel thing to be afraid of yourself.

Even though Ed is realistically one of the least violent characters in a show about violent pirates, and we're beaten over the head with that over and over again, he's horrified by his capacity for violence at the same time as he often feels he's defined by it. He's getting so much better by the end of season 2, but he's internalized a view of himself as a hyper-violent monster to the point where that's just not going to be going away overnight.

I imagine Ed measuring their strides as he and Stede walk down to the market, trying to reassure himself that Stede could outrun him if he needed to. He tells Stede that he's hiding their old stock of weapons under the bed just in case of an emergency and puts them all under Stede's side so Stede would reach them first. Having those bad moods that all people have and worrying that he should hide himself away or try to restrain himself somehow, because obviously he'd never ever want to hurt Stede, but he's been told over and over again that he's insane and erratic, so he can't trust how he feels. Keeps his meals light because it'll be safer for everyone if he's weak.

And I imagine all those fears and that self-hatred slowly getting chipped away. Stede asks him to give him a tattoo, when Ed waffles about how it might hurt a bit Stede laughs and says "you'd never hurt me." Bringing home a tiny scrap of a kitten he found shivering out in the rain, looking at that tiny thing in his hands and realizing it's not afraid of him and it has no reason to be. Having a stupid domestic spat and realizing that neither of them even really raised their voices at each other, just got a bit bitchy for twenty minutes and then apologized.

Just...getting to see that he's a gentle man and not a monster.

[tequiilasunriise]

“Oh! My cheeks must be malfunctioning! They’re so hot!”

BABY’S FIRST CRUUUSSSHHHHHH 🏳️‍🌈‼️🏳️‍🌈✨‼️🏳️‍🌈✨‼️‼️🏳️‍🌈‼️‼️

[cherubchoirs]

Do the siblings ever Show Lucifer the testament god left about him? Man's gotta be depressed already over something so preventable :[

did something a bit different and wrote a small one-shot for this - it's an idea i've had stuck in my head, about just what it would mean for lucifer to find god's regret and how it could possibly find a way into a mind so thoroughly consumed with hatred for him (~1300 words)

Lucifer stands frozen before the terminal, locked into an infinitely receding space that reduces everything that surrounds him to a single room. A single display. He is impossibly small, flattened, compressed into it until only he and this feeble echo of God remain. A poor replica of what they once had been at the start of everything, just before creation exploded out into its unfathomable expanse when Lucifer was bursting with light and God was the entire universe. Lucifer now, a smoldering, hollow shell and God only words on a screen.

            Nothing like His true voice. A language of images and abstractions woven into visual song.

If this was the way it was always meant to end, that would be its only justification. A long game, a damnation incomplete until it brought him before this one screen and the meager text displayed on it. How insignificant, how indifferent they are, the very banality of evil. Lucifer would read the words until they began to blur together and he could make them out as some trick of Hell, how he strains to hear laughter thrumming through its halls. But it’s quiet, almost distant, as though the prison itself has retreated from him now. And how it should.

            All of this, come to nothing.

The pitiful flame still in his belly burns in a terrible ache, that last living part of God unable to withstand this regret. It never had to be, the first and oldest tragedy rendered meaningless. The thought locks into his mind, rapidly consuming it until he has nothing else beneath it or before it. He would dig his fingers into his own eye if tearing it out would take away what he now knows. It was so much better to think his beloved Father had turned to hatred of him for reasons he would never parse, he could live in perfect hatred toward Him in kind if that was their fate. He hated, and hated, and hated, devoured whole and corrupted down to his very core, his entire fabric, to turn into an antithesis of his maker. Thousands of years immeasurable to become the distilled poison of God, eviscerated by his grief and carrying all the bodies of those dead angels in his own to cultivate a vile evil unknown to any other than Lucifer.

But it was never returned. Lucifer perpetually and ever all-ignorant, loved endlessly by a Father that had sent him so far it had devoured God just as it had the Devil. How he would have helped, false memories crashing into his mind to temporarily dislodge that one looping, intractable truth – if God had found an answer for him in that moment, if He had responded in truth to His child’s anxiety. How Lucifer would have served Him then, risen up to be the perfect son in the mold he had been made and how his love would have burned ever brighter in the face of it. A whole history that would have been unravels in an instant, showing all of what he could have been in full clarity.

And Lucifer recoils from it.

He does not feel that way his hands begin to burn, molten cracks bursting all along the cindered remains of his arm and shining through his gutted insides. The light of God Himself, so torturous to the walls of Hell all around him that it screams, writhing and twisting but unable to eject him from the terminal before him, unable to shut the room away in the face of the very primordial force that had made it. Flames burst forth, flashing in now terribly billowing smoke, threatening to consume the entire space yet nullified instantly by the shrill light of the sun, the very essence of the Celestial Rose petrifying all it now touches.

Lucifer flares, the mantle of his flames consuming his broken body barely able to now sustain them, the train of his wings corroding every surface they touch. The dead air breathes into life not meant for it and so dies a second time, Hell rushing to quarantine his fire as it rapidly spreads to turn its body necrotic. Lucifer himself too burned down, his ashes crying out against his own awful divinity and yet he feels none of it. He sees only the words in front of him.

AN ANGEL SO BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL ASKED ME THIS…

His right hand finds the terminal screen, display flickering and just as soon burning through, before he even touches it.

AND I CAST LUCIFER, TOO, INTO THE INFERNAL DEN

Upon slightest contact, the metal and circuitry of the terminal are no more and he is flooded with the holy word instead.

ONCE I REALIZED WHAT I HAD JUST DONE…

I COULD ONLY WEEP

It strikes down to his core, sending deep pulses of an unspeakable, unfathomable grief through his reignited flames. Lucifer retracts into himself for the pain, for the abundant, wracking tears that burn away before they can even leave his eye. Yet in them, his world rapidly begins to expand again, away from the words he’s now eliminated, away from the memories of a life that could have been. The Testament explodes through his mind, God’s true voice in the unlimited capacity only ever heard by Lucifer and now rejected by him in his immutable hatred. It is done.

Soon, he hears the wailing of Hell; Lucifer casts his gaze finally unfrozen to a room now greatly altered around him. His hand is badly broken open, embers left behind in a flame that has once again fallen into a deep sleep, but he has done much more damage to his friend. It feels his regret and knows his apologies, evident through its slow quieting as Lucifer himself straightens to stand once more. He moves himself quickly over now ashen ground, not wishing to prolong the residual trembling left in it; he departs from what’s left of the room and it is gone behind him. Excised, and all is silent. He supposes they won’t speak for a while now.

He steps back out into a part of Hell barely recognizable as such – A dawn slowly breaks over the water stretching out in front of him. The sun is steady rising, sedate as it comes over the horizon in soft washes of color he remembers once painting himself. How now his ignorance has been reduced, seemingly to a cruel extent and yet it’s so much smaller than it seems. He had seen the alternative in what could have been, and he sees it now in this morning. To paint always, to serve forever.

If his Father had loved him all that time, if He had regretted His choice each passing day and if it contributed to His own demise…it can only be Good. God had loved him so, and Lucifer had grown in hatred in those same exact days. God’s sorrow and His death do nothing to him, they cannot change what He Himself had made in His first son – Godly, sinless hatred. He imprisoned Lucifer in the deepest pit, made him wholly wretched and placed all ugliness, all blame, all suffering onto one child to preserve His Paradise. Yet in butchering him so, He had freed him from unending, unthinking servitude.

The Archangels that had brought him there gather to him cautiously. They know Hell has swallowed the room he had stood in, they can see the damage done to his hand – Raphael offers to heal him, but no more words are exchanged. It would be pointless to elucidate his feelings anyway, all of them unable to comprehend just what he has become and what he now wishes to be. He was born illuminated with Love, the Prince of Heaven and High Priest of the choirs, and to this day he could be singing the constant refrain of the seraphim around the throne of God in his once perpetual adoration. What a small, incomplete world he would have lived in.

Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heaven.