#OC: Ether Strike

[cheezyharu]

I'M DONE. I'M OUT. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

FRACTURE RAY FTR UNLOCKED!!!!!

[redrawthecolorlessworld]

just a wip for now.

[the-art-in-arthesia-is-loud]

Second.

huh? whuh? huuuuhhhh?????

———

I remember crossing a bridge.

When I crossed it, I caught glimpses of memories that I've had in my life.

I saw the memory of when I got a birthday present from my parents. It didn't satisfy me for too long, though.

I saw the memory of when I met Ray for the first time. She saved me from my own happiness. She saved me from my own foolishness. She saved me from...the luminous sky.

I saw the memory of when I met Axium for the first time. His vines scared me at first, but it wasn't for too long.

I saw the memories I had with Mr. Mantis, Lucas, Hydra, Relentless, and Galactic. They're the people who understood me the most aside from Ray and Axium, and I'm grateful for that fact.

I thought that would be the end, and what awaits at the other side of the bridge...would be an eternal peace.

But no.

That was not what I saw.

Instead, what I saw at the end of the bridge...

Was a face that seemed so foreign, yet so familiar.

———

"You found me, Strike."

"Wha...?"

Ether- no, Strike looked at the girl before him in shock. Why is he even shocked? He has never seen this girl before. Maybe the shock came from how unexpected this meeting is, or maybe there's more to her than what meets the eye.

"Who...who are you?" Strike asked, confusion clear in his tone of voice and all over his facial expression as he points a finger at the girl. "Hm? Me? Why, I'm Ether Second. Just call me Second to avoid confusion." The girl answered calmly, smiling.

"Huh? Ether Second? But- but my name is also Ether in a way!" Strike exclaimed in even more confusion. So many questions, so many answers. He could think of one question but-

But he's just overwhelmed right now.

"People with the same name exist, Strike." Second said nonchalantly, her smile gone, replaced with a blank expression. That somewhat threw Strike off. "A-ah, well, y-yes, but still." He said, before finally composing himself. "Why...why do you look so similar to me?"

"Because we're related in a way." Second answered instantly, which caught Strike off-guard, but he appreciated getting a super early answer. "I don't recall having a sibling, though." He spoke. "Yeah, that's because we're not related in that way, Strike." Second replied, before giggling. It's funny seeing Strike like this, filled with so much confusion, yet managing to try to dig into the situation a little more. It's fun to watch, to say the least.

"Then...what relation do we have?" Strike asked. "Hmm...you have the Star Guide heritage, am I wrong?" It was Second's turn to ask, and Strike's only answer is an unsure nod. "Well, I also have that heritage too. We were specifically created to compliment each other." Second continued her explanation, before smiling gently at the boy.

"Oh..." That was the only thing that came out of Strike's mouth before he went silent, slowly processing the information given to him. That is, until he realized something.

Where even is he?

"Ah, wait, Second, do you...know where we are?" Strike asked again, startling the girl a little bit. "Huh? Oh, we're in the Realm of the Almighty—or at least a faction of it. I mostly reside here if I really want to, but I'd go out of my way to visit the Gods, though that's on rare occasions." She explained, occasionally looking to the side and then back at Strike.

"Hmm...ah, wait. Our time is almost up." Second suddenly announced. The tone in her voice indicates that she isn't happy about that fact. "Huh? I thought I could stay here for as long as I want..." Strike said sadly, though what he said did cracked Second up a little bit.

"Pfft- oh shut up! Haha!" Second laughed, and then she stopped. "I think it's best if I send you back now. Who knows? Maybe some of your friends and relatives are worried about you."

"Well, if you say so." Strike said, but then he felt a pain in his chest. No, it's not a heart attack. It's not anything physical. He just suddenly felt...sad.

He didn't know why, but tears were already pouring down from his eyes. He didn't know why. He really didn't know why. He didn't know why he was so sad to just...part ways with Second.

It's as if he isn't complete without her.

The girl noticed this, and offered a hug. "H-huh? O-oh. N-no...I...I think I'll be—" Before Strike could even finish his sentence, however, Second already pulled him into a hug.

It's warm here, he thought, and he felt himself cry even more.

———

"Second half? Second? Second???"

The questions Hydra threw at the boy made Ether absolutely annoyed. "Yes...! I'm really serious! I wasn't high! I wasn't having a fever dream! I wasn't out of my mind!" He exclaimed in affirmation, desperately trying to get everyone in the room with him right now to believe him.

After all, it actually did happened! He wasn't dreaming, right?

...

Right...?

"Haha, very interesting. I might need to look into people like you a little more, Ether." Mantis spoke up. Another goal to accomplish, typical Mantis. Ether only sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

Maybe someday he and Second will meet again.

[dotster001]

Can I request for headcanons with the twst second years crushing on their classmate who is also Malleus Draconia’s younger brother?

(thank you for your patience boo! I hope this is what you were looking for!!!! 💙 Also, holy shit there's a lot of second years 😂)

CW: male reader, reader is Malleus' younger brother, Sad Kalim, mentions of Malleus x Yuu for meme purposes

Malleus has lots of respect for Riddle. So when you asked him who you should go to to learn about human customs, Malleus pointed him in Riddle's direction. Malleus knows that Riddle barely knows modern human customs, but he is a matchmaker Extraordinaire now that he is dating Yuu.

Riddle is honored that the Draconia family thinks so highly of him, and does his best to teach you about what the children of men do these days. It's actually both of you just learning about humans, and it's so cute.

You and Riddle taking notes while Cater explains a magicam trend. Studious buddies.

It's on one of these adventures to learn about modern human things that Riddle looks over at you, and realizes how beautiful and ethereal you are. After that, it's over for him. He's a flustered mess around you and it's easy to figure out what's going on.

"Queen of Heartslaybul, I have gotten the permission of my brother, and request to participate in a courtship ritual with you."

Translation: "Riddle, wanna go to a movie? My brother says it's chill."

Everyone was scared of you both individually, but now? Power couple, power couple, power couple.

Honestly, at first he was so self conscious about it. How could Malleus Draconia 's younger brother ever reciprocate the feelings of a hyena with no money and no prospects. 

Like your brother, you're very wise. You know, and you decide to be the fae you are, and play with Ruggie until he admits it. You talk in riddles, and pretty soon Ruggie is dizzy thinking about this fae prince, but ecstatic that he is making headway with his crush.

Eventually, he cracks, and admits it. And you just smile knowingly.

"I accept your confession, little hyena."

Doesn't appreciate being called little… but with a sugar daddy boyfriend who'll let him snuggle whenever he likes,  he'll be your "little hyena" as often as you like.

Floyd is that kid who sees something, and is like "what would it be like if I bit that?" 

So imagine a merman, who has hyperfixations on biting things, seeing a fae for the first time ever in one of his first year classes. Azul spends weeks trying to keep you two apart.

When the time comes, and Floyd has chomped down on your arm, you find it hilarious. As a fae, you barely felt it, and as a prince, you'd never had someone bite you before. Instant friendship between you two . (Tried to bite your horns one time, was very pouty that they hurt his teeth)

You never question him when he nibbles on you. And it becomes a comfort for him. Bored? Find sea dragon, and steal one of his fingers to nibble. Sad? Snuggles, and nomming on your shoulder, please!

Realizes how he feels when he loses all motivation when you have to return to the Valley of Thorns to celebrate your brother's betrothal. He just mopes around the lounge, until you come back, and immediately tells you how he feels. So no more leaving him, okay! 

Really excited that he is now allowed to bite your lips…🥺

You wanted to study a merman, and Jade wanted to study a Draconic fae. While your intentions were much purer than Jade's, it's still a beneficial arrangement.

As a thank you for his help in learning about mermaid culture, you present him with a terrarium full of Valley of Thorns mushrooms. That's what breaks him.

But if anyone is able to outdo a fae in observation and outlasting…. It's Jade. Jade waits, and waits, and waits some more…and strikes when he's showing you around his home in the ocean.

"I'm certain you've received grander proposals than this, but I would love the honor of being your boyfriend."

He planned everything. He picked a beautiful spot where the bioluminescence of the ocean, and himself, would make him irresistibly mysterious and ethereal. But it also backfires and further accentuates your own unearthly features. Now you're both simping.

"I accept your confession, Jade. Although, if you're using me to get to my mushrooms, I'm not too sure my brother would take kindly to it." 

Both of you laugh, as though you each know a secret, but Jade instinctively wraps his tail around your legs and brings you closer….and it just feels right.

Azul starts out thinking that you will be in an easy in with Diasomnia and Malleus, but it turned out you could be just as unapproachable as your brother. Oh well, he loves a challenge from time to time.

Not long in to researching you, you join the board game club and challenge Azul to a chess match, here you may or may not have talked in enough circles that he reveals the scheme. 

He thinks he's blown int but you suddenly start making weekly visits to the Monstro Lounge. You order the same thing, make a cryptic comment and leave. It's like clockwork, and Azul can't help but feel you've hypnotized him with this routine.

He grows so comfortable with this routine, that he has your table and food ready before you arrive, and serves you personally. (The twins give him hell for it.)

When you invite him out….he thinks he's going to die.  He tries to keep up the business man persona, but he's such a simp. He's stuttering and fumbling, until you tell him how dear he has become to you, and how beautiful you find him. Then he stops fumbling and becomes a blushy mess that feels all warm and fuzzy inside.

The twins give him hell for it (pt 2).

People are not this warm and affectionate in the Valley of Thorns. You probably fall first honestly. Like Mal falling for Yuu, you fall for Kalim and spend all your time in Scarabia. 

You play Mancala with Kalim, and play as long as he wants/takes to win. Kalim loves that you don't get bored or annoyed with him.

During the phase where Kalim is being hypnotized and has memory loss, he notices you aren't around as often, and starts to realize how important you are to him.

After Jamil overblots, you come to see him immediately, and do a magical checkup to make sure he's okay. Kalim asks why you've stayed away so long, and his heart breaks when he sees your sad smile as you say, "You, yourself, told me I was no longer welcome."

Kalim cries and hugs you tightly,  telling you he didn't mean it, he loves you so much! 

After he calms down and gets to a good mental state, you both have a conversation about your relationship, and realize you both love each other the same. Happy ever after for two squishy boys!

You met when Lilia invited you to see his band. Jamil was sitting in the audience for Kalim, and you two had a great conversation before he lost his hearing from Lilia smashing yet another guitar.

Jamil is still trying to be average and unnoticed when you meet, so you don't see him much after that. But he sees you. He is enthralled by your natural skills,  and even though you're a rich kid, (prince) you carry yourself with an air of self awareness and kindness, and he can't help but think that in another life…

Stops that line of thinking really fast. A prince would never be with a servant. But in the days before his overblot, it's definitely you he's thinking about when he thinks about what he can accomplish with his freedom.

After the overblot, you doctor him up, and replenish any empty magic stores that could be a problem. Then you do his chores for him. If he wasn't whipped for you already….

You catch him watching you dreamily, and call him out on it. Then you take his hand and cup his cheek and tell him you feel the same.

"I'm not worthy-"

"I am the second born prince of the Valley of Thorns, a member of a long line of Draconic fae. If I say you are worthy, Viper, then you are worthy."

The way you say it, it's like you are weaving a spell to make it true, and make him believe it. If that was your intention, it worked.

Definitely a friend's to lovers situation. Silver being raised around you, and both of you at least starting at a similar emotional age (you've passed him, but such is the way of the fae) you were close for the entirety of Silver's life .

He has a sense of duty to Malleus and Lilia for his position, and he definitely still has a little bit to you due to your position as second born, but it's not as heavy for you, so he can mostly relax around you.

He realizes he's in love in a first year flight class when he fell asleep on his broom, and woke up in your arms after you caught him. 

It's a year later, and he's stoically escorting you to the library, when you decide to play with him a little.

"There's this little prince I've had my eyes on…"

Silver's a good knight, so he won't say anything, but deep down he's disappointed. All he'll say is something like, "I'm so happy for you, Prince Y/N."

Then you'll start describing him, and he'll falter. You cup his cheek and look deeply in his eyes and say, "My little Prince is named Silver, and there is no one else I'd rather have by my side." 

Oh.

OH.

Silver probably reaffirms his undying loyalty, then turns a bright red when you take his hand as you continue your walk. Honestly, I ship this one the most.

[tragedycoded]

OC fight game tag!

Loves @sableglass [x] and @leahnardo-da-veggie [x] unlocked the DMLS DLC for Tumblr Kombat.

I've definitely envisioned them as party members in a shitty RPGMaker horror game, so they port into a fighting game np.

Cole Sullivan

Health: 12 Strength: 10 Speed: 4 [the leg situation] Armor: 5 Cunning: 8

Special Attack: Peacemaker, a hit-scan ranged attack that will halve your HP if you don't perfectly time your dodge; Crutch Strike, which will knock you on your ass and leave you vulnerable to a follow-up: Cavalry Saber, an absolutely unfair combo attack.

Weakness: Limited mobility. Tank-like. Noticeable input lag when blocking; the developers will never fix it.

Idle Animation: Stands at attention on crutches. Occasionally frowns or adjusts his grip on the handles. If he's left idle too long, he will unholster his revolver and confirm the chamber is fully loaded. Sometimes Royston will run into his animation to smooch him on the cheek and run off again, which leaves his sprite with blushy cheeks and a :3 thought bubble.

Erik Hofer

Health: 8 Strength: 8 Speed: 6 Armor: 4 Cunning: 8

Special Attack: Ether Fist. An unchoreographed punch that heals 30% of his HP if it connects.

Weakness: Easily stunlocked.

Idle Animation: Black bag in one hand, cigarette in the other, he looks from side to side with a bored expression until he finishes smoking. Will roll his eyes if left long enough to finish smoking.

Arthur Royston

Health: 6 Strength: 8 Speed: 10 Armor: 8 Cunning: 12

Special Attack: Death From Above. Will climb any environmental structures (trees, railings, walls, etc.) and jump down on top of his opponent. Don't let him do this if you're less than half health or it's one-shot. Also has Talk Shit, which will debuff either Speed or Cunning.

Weakness: Easily distracted, poor impulse control. Short. Poison attacks are 50% more effective against him.

Idle Animation: Bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, twirling a hunting knife, waggling his eyebrows. Will eventually throw back his head in maniacal laughter, throw the knife, and run off-screen.

Melanie Gott

Health: 8 Strength: 5 Speed: 6 Armor: 6 Cunning: 10

Special Attack: Leg Sweep. Causes knockdown, leaves opponent vulnerable to having the shit beat out of them with a broom. Also Shotgun Blast. Exactly what it sounds like.

Weakness: Her punch attacks are ineffective against opponents with high Armor.

Idle Animation: Holding a shotgun with the barrel aimed at the ground, she rolls out her shoulders. Looks like she'd be rather be anywhere else. Every 60 seconds there's a 1% chance Royston will run through her idle animation, which makes her make the -_- face.

I know all of y'all have been tagged already, but tag! And it's open.

@cowboybrunch @finickyfelix @saturnine-saturneight @ashfordlabs @autism-purgatory

@noblebs @aintgonnatakethis @the-golden-comet @asablehart @mauvecatfic

@leahnardo-da-veggie @sableglass @gioiaalbanoart @words-after-midnight

@lavender-bloom @jev-urisk @wyked-ao3

[anna-the-undertaker]

Shadows of Divinity

I got to thinking about Nephilim (the children of humans and angels) and it gave me an idea: What if MC had the characteristics and strength of a Nephilim, except much more subdued so she isn't 4000ft tall, but a more manageable height of 8 or 9ft (I pictured a physique like Lady Dimitrescu from Resident Evil Village). So now I have created an OC and this may turn into a whole thing of its own.

Summary: Summoned unexpectedly to the Devildom, Nephila—an imposing figure with an ethereal grace—finds herself navigating a world of demons, secrets, and hidden truths. Towering above those around her, Nephila’s presence commands attention, but it’s the sense of something more, something ancient, that truly unsettles those she encounters. With no knowledge of her own mysterious origins, Nephila must uncover the secrets of her family's lineage while contending with the intrigue and suspicion that follow her every step. As the Brothers, the Royals, and the angels attempt to unravel the enigma that is Nephila, they are drawn into a web of past events and divine legacy that could reshape the very fabric of the Devildom.

Chapter Two

Chapter One: Arrival

The sensation was unlike anything Nephilia had ever experienced. One moment, she was at home, enveloped in the familiar hum of the mundane, and the next, she was hurtling through a vortex of swirling shadows and distant, echoing whispers. The world around her blurred into a tempest of colors, the edges of reality fraying as she was pulled inexorably toward an unknown destination.

Then, with a suddenness that left her breathless, everything snapped back into place. The disorienting whirl of magic ceased, and Nephilia found herself standing in a room unlike any she had ever seen before.

She blinked, her vision adjusting to the dim, amber light that filled the space. The room was vast, its high, vaulted ceilings disappearing into shadow. Ornate pillars carved with intricate designs of twisted vines and serpentine creatures lined the walls, their surfaces gleaming faintly in the flickering light of countless candelabras and the chandelier. The air was heavy with the scent of incense and something darker, more ancient—something that spoke of power and age.

Before her, arranged in a line upon some kind of dais, were seven thrones, each distinct in its design and ornamentation. They were grand, crafted from dark wood, and adorned with jewels and precious metals that caught the light. Yet, despite their grandeur, they were dwarfed by the throne that sat above them. This throne was larger, more imposing, its back carved with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and twist when looked at too closely. It was a seat of power, unmistakably so, and its presence filled the room with a quiet, oppressive authority.

Nephilia took in her surroundings with a steady calm. She had always been tall—taller than most men, with a presence that commanded attention whether she sought it or not. Her height, combined with her statuesque build, had often made others wary of her, though she had grown accustomed to the stares and whispers. But here, in this place, she felt something different. Not intimidation, but a sense of anticipation, as if this room, this gathering, had been waiting for her arrival.

As her gaze moved from the thrones to the figures seated upon them, Nephilia felt the weight of their attention settle on her. There were five of them, all male, each as distinct as the thrones they occupied. They watched her with varying degrees of curiosity, surprise, and—at least in one case—something close to indifference.

The first to break the silence was the man seated in the largest throne. He was striking, with dark red hair and golden eyes that gleamed with a warm, welcoming light. Despite the grandeur of his throne, there was an openness to his expression that put her at ease, even as the power he radiated made it clear that he was no ordinary being.

"Welcome to the Devildom," he said, his voice deep and resonant, filling the hall with its warmth. "My name is Diavolo, and I am the ruler of this realm."

Nephilia nodded, her mind racing as she processed his words. "The Devildom," she repeated, more to herself than to him. "As in... the devil... and demons?"

Diavolo’s smile widened, clearly pleased by her composure. "Indeed. This is the Royal Academy of Diavolo... though we just call it RAD. This is where we officers of the student council hold our meetings and conduct our business. I'm the president of said council. You have been summoned here as part of an exchange program between the human world and the Devildom. We’ve been expecting you."

"Expecting me?" Nephilia echoed, a hint of confusion slipping into her tone. "What exactly is this exchange program?"

Another voice cut through the air—this one smooth and authoritative, with an edge of command that demanded attention. The speaker was a man with midnight-black hair slicked back in perfect order, his sharp features accentuated by the dark, tailored suit he wore. His eyes, a piercing crimson, were fixed on Nephilia with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

"This exchange program is designed to foster understanding between the demon realm, human realm, and celestial realm" the man said, his tone measured but with an undercurrent of suspicion. "You are one of two chosen to represent humanity. However, this... was unexpected."

"This is Lucifer," Diavolo added. "He is the Avatar of Pride. He's also the vice president of the student council and my right-hand man...and not just in title, I assure you. Beyond that, he's also my most trusted friend."

Nephilia met his gaze evenly, unflinching. "What was unexpected?"

Lucifer allowed a slight frown to crease his brow. "Your appearance. We were prepared for the arrival of a human, but we weren't expecting this."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Nephilia asked, her confusion deepening.

"Lucifer," Diavolo interjected gently, "we can address those concerns later. For now, let us properly welcome our guest and introduce ourselves."

Lucifer inclined his head slightly, though his gaze remained wary. "Of course, my lord."

As the tension in the room eased, another figure spoke up—a man with champagne colored hair and a striking, ethereal beauty that was almost otherworldly. His eyes sparkled with curiosity, and a playful smile tugged at his lips as he regarded Nephilia.

"My, my, aren’t you a fascinating sight," he purred, his voice laced with charm. "I’m Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust, but you can call me Asmo. I must say, it’s been a while since I’ve seen someone so... commanding. You must be quite popular back in the human realm."

Nephilia raised an eyebrow at his flirtatious tone but chose to ignore it. "I wouldn’t say that," she replied simply.

Asmo chuckled, clearly amused by her lack of reaction. "Well, we’ll see about that. There’s something about you, darling. You’re like a breath of fresh air in this dark, dreary place."

A soft grunt of agreement came from the next throne over, where a towering man with broad shoulders and a serious expression sat. His hair was a deep orange, and his eyes were a striking shade of amethyste that seemed almost unnatural. Despite his intimidating size, there was a gentleness and indifference in his gaze as he looked at Nephilia.

"You look strong," he said simply, his voice rumbling through the hall. "That’s good."

Nephilia offered him a small smile, sensing that his words were genuine. "Thank you."

Diavolo smiled again, "This is the Avatar of Gluttony."

Lucifer’s crimson eyes narrowed slightly as he observed the exchange. "It is unwise to judge based on appearances alone, Beel," he warned. "Strength in one realm does not necessarily translate to strength in another."

Beel shrugged, unfazed by Lucifer’s caution. "Maybe. But I still think she’ll do fine. Are we almost done? I'm hungry, Lucifer."

"That's too bad," he replied. "Behave yourself."

Beel looked away sadly, his stomach rumbling loudly.

Before Nephilia could say anything, the final figure seated on the furthest throne, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. His voice was cold, analytical, and carried an undercurrent of intellectual superiority. He was lean, with sharp features and blond hair that contrasted sharply with the darkness around him. His eyes, a piercing green, were fixed on Nephilia with a calculating gaze.

"Strong or not, it is clear that she is not an ordinary human," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "Her aura is highly unusual."

Nephilia met his gaze steadily. "And you are?"

"Satan," he replied coolly, "the Avatar of Wrath."

"Figures," she muttered under her breath, eliciting a faint smirk from Asmo.

Diavolo clapped his hands together, drawing the attention back to him. "There’s someone else you should meet," he said. "Allow me to introduce Barbatos, my most trusted butler and advisor."

Nephilia’s gaze followed Diavolo’s gesture, her eyes widening slightly as a figure stepped forward from the shadows behind the prince. Tall and composed, Barbatos moved with the quiet confidence of someone who was not only accustomed to blending into the background but who had mastered the art of it. His presence was so subtle, so unassuming, that Nephilia was genuinely startled that she hadn’t noticed him before. It was as if he had materialized out of thin air.

Barbatos bowed deeply, a gesture of perfect grace and respect. His dark green eyes, sharp and perceptive, met Nephilia’s with a hint of curiosity as he straightened. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance," he said, his voice smooth and polished, yet carrying a weight that suggested layers of knowledge and experience beneath the surface.

Nephilia gave a slight nod of her own, surprised by the formality of it all. "It's nice to meet you all, I am Nephilia, but you can call me Neph." she replied, her voice steady despite her internal surprise at the butler’s near-invisibility moments before.

Barbatos’s gaze remained fixed on her, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Your name is quite unique," he observed, his tone polite but inquisitive.

A wry chuckle escaped Nephilia’s lips, and she shook her head slightly. "My parents thought they were being clever," she explained, a trace of humor lacing her words. "It’s derived from the Hebrew word Nephilim, which can be translated as ‘giants’ or, in some religious circles, ‘the fallen ones.’ They always found that bit of etymology amusing because of my size."

The room seemed to still for a moment, the weight of the name hanging in the air. Diavolo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Were your parents religious, then?"

Nephilia shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Not at all. They were more the type to poke fun at religion than to adhere to it. They enjoyed the irony, I suppose."

Barbatos’s expression remained thoughtful as he considered her explanation, his eyes flicking briefly to Diavolo, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. Whatever unspoken communication passed between them was lost on Nephilia, though it did not escape her notice.

Lucifer, who had been silently observing the exchange, stepped forward, his presence immediately commanding attention. "As enlightening as this discussion has been," he began, his tone authoritative yet laced with a subtle resignation, "there are practical matters to attend to. During your stay in the Devildom, you will require someone to assist you in navigating our world and ensuring your well-being."

Nephilia raised an eyebrow, sensing a catch. "And who exactly will be looking after me?"

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if considering how best to phrase his next words. "That responsibility will fall to my brother, Mammon," he said, his tone calm but with an underlying exasperation. "He is the Avatar of Greed and... how should I put it?"

He sighed, clearly grappling with the task of summarizing Mammon’s myriad complexities. "Oh well, you’ll understand soon enough."

Before Nephilia could respond, Lucifer produced a device from within his coat—a sleek, black object that looked somewhat like a high-end smartphone but with a distinctly otherworldly design. He handed it to her with the air of someone passing on an essential but bothersome tool. "This is a D.D.D.," he explained. "It functions similarly to a cell phone in your world. It is yours to use for communication and other tasks while you’re here in the Devildom."

Nephilia took the device, turning it over in her hand and examining its unfamiliar design. "So, I use this to contact your brother?" she asked, glancing up at Lucifer.

"Precisely," he replied, his tone brisk. "You’ll find his number, along with the rest of ours, already programmed into it. Simply press the call icon, and he’ll answer—eventually."

Curiosity piqued, Nephilia navigated the device’s interface with surprising ease. Within moments, she found Mammon’s contact and pressed the call button. The D.D.D. rang several times before it was picked up with a click, followed by a voice that was casual and carefree.

“Yoooo,” the voice drawled.

“Yo,” Nephilia responded evenly, her tone calm and collected despite the unusual situation.

There was a brief pause before the voice turned suspicious. “Are ya foolin’ around? Who the hell are ya?”

“I’m Neph,” she replied, keeping her introduction simple. “A human.”

The line went silent for a split second before Mammon’s voice erupted in surprise. “Whaaa? A human? Geez, I was gettin’ all chilly here thinkin’ it was Lucifer again. Ya should’ve told me right away! So, what business does a human got with THE Mammon?”

Nephilia’s lips quirked up slightly at his self-assured tone. “You will apparently be in charge of me from now on.”

Mammon’s voice shifted from confidence to confusion. “No way! There’s nothin’ in it for me. Whaddya even mean by ‘be in charge of you’?…” A sudden realization seemed to dawn on him, and he let out a loud exclamation. “AAH! I get it now, you’re the other human—the new exchange student! G’luck with that, and see ya.”

Just as she was about to respond, Mammon clearly intending to hang up, Nephilia quickly added, “Lucifer asked me to call you.”

There was a brief pause, followed by a dismissive scoff. “Pfft, whatever. Ya think THE Mammon would listen to ya just ‘cause you’re tryin’ to scare me with that name?”

Suddenly, the phone was abruptly snatched from her hand. Lucifer’s voice cut in, smooth and authoritative. “You’ve got 10 seconds...9...8…”

“YESSIR!” Mammon’s panicked voice came through loud and clear before the line clicked off abruptly.

Nephilia raised an eyebrow, glancing up at Lucifer who handed her back the D.D.D. with a calm expression. "You’ll find that Mammon can be... difficult," Lucifer said, his tone carrying the weight of years spent managing his unpredictable brother. "But he’ll do as he’s told, eventually."

Nephilia accepted the device back with a nod, tucking it away. "He’s certainly... something," she replied, her voice dry.

Lucifer almost smirked, the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes as he regarded Nephilia. "He is," he said, a hint of something almost resembling sympathy in his voice. "There are seven of us brothers in total. You’ve met four of them," he continued, gesturing to the demons present. "The other two aren’t here at the moment, but... well, we can get to them later. All in good time."

Nephilia nodded, still processing the strange new world she’d been thrust into, her thoughts racing with questions she couldn’t quite form yet. The atmosphere in the room felt heavy, not with malice, but with the weight of untold stories and secrets that lurked just beneath the surface. She could feel it in the way the Brothers held themselves, in the way their eyes flicked toward her with a mix of curiosity and something darker.

Before she could dwell on it further, Diavolo spoke up, his voice warm and reassuring. "During your stay in the Devildom, the seven brothers will lend you their strength. Each of them is unique, as you’ll come to see, and they will help guide you through this year-long exchange."

Nephilia blinked, her focus sharpening on his words. "How long will I be staying?" she asked, her voice betraying a hint of unease.

"A year," Lucifer replied, his tone flat and matter-of-fact, as though such a duration was of little consequence.

Nephilia’s eyes widened, her calm exterior cracking slightly as the implications of his words settled in. "A year?" she repeated, disbelief coloring her voice. "You do realize that I have a job? A house and bills that have to be paid for, right? What will happen to them while I am here?"

Diavolo’s expression softened with understanding, though his eyes remained resolute. "Rest assured, Neph, everything in the human world will be taken care of. Time in the Devildom moves differently than it does in your world. A year here may not feel the same back home."

Lucifer nodded in agreement, his tone measured. "You’ll find that many things in the Devildom defy the expectations of the human world. Your obligations will be seen to, and when you return, it will be as though no time has passed."

Despite their reassurances, Nephilia couldn’t shake the gnawing anxiety that gripped her. The thought of leaving everything behind for an entire year, of having her life paused while she was trapped, was overwhelming.

"I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, do I?" she asked, her voice tinged with resignation.

"Not really," Lucifer replied, his tone slightly softer than before. "But you’ll find that the Devildom has its own rewards."

Diavolo smiled warmly, stepping forward to place a hand on her shoulder. "Think of it as an opportunity," he said, his voice full of optimism. "A chance to experience a world unlike any other, to learn, to grow... and to discover things about yourself that you never knew existed."

Nephilia took a deep breath, steadying herself. The uncertainty was still there, gnawing at the edges of her resolve, but she could feel a flicker of curiosity burning beneath it. Maybe they were right. Maybe this was an opportunity—a terrifying, overwhelming, but potentially life-changing opportunity.

“To keep you safe, you are to stay with the brothers at the House of Lamentation,” Diavolo continued, his tone gentle but firm.

Nephilia raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with incredulity as she repeated, “The House of Lamentation?”

“Yes,” Lucifer interjected smoothly, his gaze steady. “It’s quite spacious and should accommodate you comfortably. The house was originally cursed in the human world, so I assume it won’t be a problem for you—a human—to live there.”

Nephilia couldn't help the dry chuckle that escaped her lips. A cursed house? she thought, amused by the irony. Of course it is. It seemed the more she learned about this situation, the more it felt like she was living in some twisted fairy tale. Yet, there was a strange comfort in Lucifer’s matter-of-fact tone, as if he was already certain she would be fine. But still, the name “House of Lamentation” didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

Before she could ponder further on the ominous name, the sound of hurried footsteps and frantic yelling echoed from the hallway outside. The clamor grew louder, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of someone tripping over their own feet in a desperate rush.

Lucifer sighed, the weariness in his expression clear. “Well, it seems the idiot has arrived,” he muttered just as the doors flew open with a loud crash.

Mammon burst into the room, panting heavily, his eyes wide with irritation as he tried to catch his breath. “HEY! Just who do ya think you are, human? You’ve got a lotta nerve summonin’ the Great Mammon—!”

His rant cut off abruptly as his gaze finally landed on Nephilia. The words seemed to die in his throat, and for a moment, he stood frozen, his eyes widening in shock as he took in her towering height and imposing presence. His bravado evaporated, replaced by something that looked like genuine surprise—maybe even awe.

Nephilia observed the sudden change in Mammon’s demeanor with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. So this is the infamous Mammon, she thought, noting the way his expression shifted from irritation to stunned silence. It was clear that he hadn’t been expecting someone like her, and she could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to reconcile the confident human he’d been prepared to yell at with the reality standing before him.

His reaction wasn’t unfamiliar—she’d seen it many times before in the human world. People often didn’t know how to handle her height or the natural authority she seemed to exude, and they either backed down quickly or doubled down on whatever attitude they’d started with. But Mammon… he was an interesting mix. She could tell he was cocky, probably used to getting his way with bluster and charm, but now, faced with her, he seemed to be at a loss for words.

After a long, awkward pause, Mammon finally managed to find his voice, though it came out weaker than before. “Uh… um…” He cleared his throat, struggling to regain his composure. “I-I mean, ya still shouldn’t go ‘round summonin’ me like that without a good reason, ya know?”

Nephilia’s lips twitched in amusement. He’s certainly something, she thought, biting back a smile. Despite his attempts to sound intimidating, there was a kind of charm to his flustered reaction. It was almost endearing in a way, though she could see why Lucifer had referred to him as an “idiot.”

“Well,” Nephilia replied calmly, her tone even and unbothered, “I was told to call you, and you're here now. It’s nice to meet you, Mammon.”

Mammon blinked, still trying to process the situation. “Y-Yeah, uh… nice to meet ya too,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He glanced over at Lucifer, who was watching the interaction with thinly veiled amusement.

“Get used to it,” Lucifer said dryly. “She’ll be living with us for the foreseeable future, and you’ll be responsible for showing her around.”

Mammon’s eyes widened again. “Wha—Me?!” He looked between Nephilia and Lucifer, his disbelief evident. “I gotta babysit a human for a whole year?!”

Lucifer’s expression remained impassive. “That’s correct. And I expect you to do it properly.”

Mammon groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Aw, c’mon! There’s gotta be somethin’ in it for me, right?”

“Consider it an opportunity,” Lucifer said with a pointed look. “You might actually learn something.”

Nephilia watched the exchange, silently taking note of Mammon’s reaction. Despite his obvious reluctance, she could see that there was more to him than his blustering attitude. He was clearly a bit overwhelmed by her, but he wasn’t backing down. That, at least, was something she could respect.

“Aww, lucky you, Mammon! I’m so jealous…” Asmo cooed, his voice dripping with feigned envy.

Mammon rounded on him, frustration evident in his furrowed brow. “All right, then why don’t you do it, Asmodeus?!”

“What? Hell no, too lazy.” Asmo replied with a dismissive wave, his usual carefree demeanor firmly in place.

Mammon’s eyes narrowed, his irritation bubbling over. “I thought ya said ya were jealous of me?!”

Satan chuckled from his seat, arms crossed casually as he observed the exchange with mild amusement. “Just give up, Mammon. There’s no getting out of this. You know you can’t refuse a direct command from Lucifer, right?”

Mammon clenched his fists in frustration. “But why does it have to be me?! What about Beel? Why can’t he do it?!”

Asmo shook his head, an indulgent smile on his lips. “This isn’t a job we can entrust to Beel. We might as well ask him to eat her.”

Beel, who had been quietly watching the back-and-forth, hummed thoughtfully. “Mm, yeah. I can’t promise I wouldn’t.”

Mammon clicked his teeth in annoyance. “You’re useless, ya know that?!”

Lucifer sighed heavily, the sound filled with exasperation. “...Mammon?”

Mammon froze, his bravado deflating in an instant. “...Wh-what?”

Lucifer’s gaze sharpened, his presence growing heavier as he spoke. “Surely you’re not going to tell me you object to this arrangement, are you?” His tone was calm, but the underlying threat was unmistakable.

Mammon flinched, his bravado quickly crumbling under the weight of Lucifer’s stare. “Ugh… I hate you guys! Every last one of ya!” He huffed, crossing his arms in a sulky gesture. “Fine… FINE! I’ll do it, okay?!”

Turning his attention to Nephilia, Mammon’s expression was a mixture of irritation and reluctant resignation. “All right, human, listen up. As much as I don’t wanna look after ya, I’ve got no choice. It’s a huge pain in the ass, and I’m too important for this kinda thing, but Lucifer told me to do it, so I will. But in return, you better make sure ya don’t cause me any trouble, got it?!”

Nephilia tried to stop herself, but the sight of Mammon’s dramatic posturing and the absurdity of the entire situation proved too much. A laugh bubbled up, escaping her control before she could stifle it. The sound echoed through the room, warm and genuine, catching everyone off guard.

The brothers all stared at her in varying degrees of shock, their previous banter forgotten. Even Lucifer raised an eyebrow in surprise, though his expression remained stoic. Mammon, however, was frozen, his indignation momentarily eclipsed by disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” Nephilia said, her voice light with amusement as she tried to contain her laughter. “I don’t mean to laugh, it’s just… I don’t get talked to like this very often.”

Mammon blinked, utterly dumbfounded. “Huh? What’s so funny?”

Nephilia’s smile softened as she met his bewildered gaze. “It’s just… you’re so serious about it, but the whole thing is so… ridiculous. I mean, here I am, standing in a room full of demons, and the biggest concern is who’s going to ‘babysit’ me. It’s just… unexpected.”

Mammon’s expression twisted, a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. “Tch, don’t go makin’ fun of me, human! Ya don’t know what it’s like dealin’ with these guys! I’m just tryin’ to survive here!”

Lucifer allowed a small, almost imperceptible smile to grace his lips as he watched the exchange. “It seems Nephilia is already adapting to our unique dynamic,” he remarked, his voice calm. “Perhaps you’ll find her easier to manage than you think, Mammon.”

Mammon grumbled under his breath, but there was no real heat in his voice anymore. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t make me regret this, okay?”

Nephilia’s laughter faded into a warm smile as she nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

As the tension in the room eased, Diavolo clapped his hands together, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Wonderful! I think this will be a fascinating year for all of us. Welcome to the Devildom, Nephilia. I’m certain you’ll make quite an impression here.”

With the atmosphere lightened and introductions complete, Nephilia felt the last vestiges of her earlier anxiety begin to ebb away. This was going to be an unusual experience, to say the least, but if the brothers were any indication, it wouldn’t be boring.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Ooops, was struck by inspiration. Oops ×2 - accidentally created some OCs and lore

Anyhow - have another trinket.

#####

- M-manager, is it supposed to be so errie here? - Billy was looking around nervously, one of his hands fidgeting near the gun holster. The surrounding ruins only grew more dark after the lighting that seemingly answered the gunslinger's question.

- Soon the monster must appear. - Anby declared with her usual stoic expression. - It always happens after people question their quides like that.

Nicole sighed quietly, muttering "You both watch WAY too much movies" under her breath. She looked at their guide - Phaeton's bangboo simply continued their track, looking for all the world completely unbothered by surroundings or the threat that was accompanying their latest task.

Nicole chewed on her lip - Butcher was a highly dangerous Ethereal all on its own. And, just their luck, they seemed to attract the attention of New Eridu's dark Legend.

"Etheral Eater", "Chaos Slayer", "Shadow of Salvation". Titles as numerous as they are mysterious applied to their newest "acquiatance". People were both terrified and taken by this "Kresnik" - tales of them saving people at the last second were mixed with cautionary ones. You were either to be saved from the most deadly situation or to suffer in the most horrible manner.

Nicole huffed out a laugh. "They are a deity, young lady. That's what people believe - and faith can grant a lot to the subject of it." That's what an old priest told her when he heard the kids at the orphanage talk about "Kresnik" again.

- Deity, huh? Some people consider Phaeton a god too.

- What's that, Nicole?

- Nothing, Billy. Eyes upfront - don't lose caution!

- Yes, boss!

Phaeton's bangboo stopped, its ears perking up.

- Everyone, the Ether's readings are skyrocketing! Be careful - something's happening to the left of us!

                                         ****

Wise's eyes were glued to the feed they were getting. And his ears were too, so to say.

- Fairy, what is this music? - Belle asked before him.

- Running a search. Several similar records - all connected to ancient religions and cults. Found a perfect match - the poster has labeled it "Mara's Dance".

- Mara's Dance?

- A group that claims to "follow their ancestor's footsteps and helping the spirits .

                                       ****

- Ohmygod, that's so cool! They are like Starlight Knights - but more scary! They even have a theme song! - Billy seemingly forgot about stealthiness altogether, openly fanboying over the spectacle below.

Nicole could easily admit that she was impressed too.

A group of four people was cutting through the crowd of Ethereals - with ease too. And grace befitting a dance, not deadly combat. But the most striking thing wasn't even their skills or strength - it was the reason for their display.

If Nicole was right - and she was sure of it - the group was cutting a path for something. It looked like they were creating a clear shot-

The sound akin to thunder filled the air - and everything in the straight line seemingly vanished.

Only for a second Nicole could see the figure perched on the spire in the distance, before it vanished again. The group below hastily followed and Nicole sighed.

- Well, that's that! The "Kresnik" has joined us again, it seems! - Phaeton's declared with way too much happiness.

Would it be too much to hope that "deity" would strike down a monster for them?

I am loving this idea so, so, SO much.

Now, time to show you my addition!

Everything was going to plan.

Practically perfect.

That should’ve raised a hundred red flags to Nicole.

Nothing ever went to plan in this business.

And, of course, something went wrong exactly when they needed it NOT to go wrong.

The tanker didn’t get struck by lightning as Fairy calculated it would.

And, like most things would be, The Butcher was not a fan of being crushed by a tanker of highly explosive ether.

It tossed the massive hunk of metal, nearly crushing Billy, forcing Anby to take evasive maneuvers, and forcing Nicole to dodge, sending her to the ground.

Enraged, The Butcher grabbed its previously discarded spear in two of its four hands, and locked onto the first thing it saw.

Nicole, laid out on the ground, dazed and defenseless.

With a terrifying roar, The Butcher rushed forward, fully intending to shish-kebab Nicole and turn her into a bloody mess.

Billy lacked the firepower to stun the beast.

Nicole was too far away to help with her sword.

Nicole’s Briefcase was just out of reach.

And there was nothing the little Bangboo named Eous could do.

But then, just as everyone was ready to scream in vain at the seemingly fatal situation Nicole was in, a miracle happened.

A sword clashed with the tip of the spear, stopping The Butcher from impaling Nicole, sending The Butcher stumbling back, and sending a shockwave out that stopped the rain from falling.

Then, they appeared, the sword still spinning end over end in the air and the air crackling with the sound of pure ether.

After that, no one could truly see. The speeds that both “The Butcher” and “Kresnik” were moving at were far, far beyond the comprehension of the human eye and only just barely visible to Billy, Eous, and Fairy.

Not to mention, the sounds of thunder shaking the entire Hollow to its core, and the blurs of greens, Blues, and purples.

It wasn’t until all of them returned to Random play that they were able to see what happened by extracting the data and putting it together.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The sword spun end over end and then, you grabbed it out of the air as your mask began to glow with ether between the cracks and crevices. Purple and pink lightning running down the length of your blade.

Then, you spun on the spot, building momentum and then throwing your blade straight at The Butcher's core.

However, the blade was swatted away by The Butcher’s weapon, sending it careening over the spear.

Exactly as you intended.

You snapped your fingers and, in an instant, you were standing on the haft of the spear, sword in hand and the sound of thunder screaming behind you.

Reacting instinctively, The Butcher swung its weapon skywards, trying to send you flying away.

But you were already gone, with half of its spear with it.

Then, The Butcher was sent flying into the side of the crater, embedding it deep into the stone.

Right behind where The Butcher once stood, was you, holding your sword as if it was a baseball bat you had just hit a home run with, the half of The Butcher’s spear impaled in the ground.

In retaliation, The Butcher threw the half of the spear it still held at you like a javelin, intent on impaling you.

You effortlessly dodged to the side.

“It seems this one is smarter than the average Ethereal.” you thought to yourself as The Butcher rushed forwards to grab its broken weapon, swinging it like a club.

You slid under the weapon, perfectly avoiding the head of the spear being torn from the ground by the blow and all the mud from the extraction as well as you stabbed the tip of your sword off the ground and used it to launch yourself upwards and onto a piece of rubble, sitting on it with your masked face in one hand and leg crossed over the other as you pointed the tip of your sword at The Butcher.

In retaliation The Butcher grabbed the head of the spear by what remained of its haft from out of the air and slammed its second pair of arms on the ground sending a shockwave out and causing the pile of Rubble you were on to become unstable which you were seemingly unbothered by as you leapt off and high into the air, lightning arcing through the sky behind you.

It was an intimidating silhouette.

A shadow in a black long coat, a mask glowing with neon purple and pink light, clawed hands covered only by fingerless gloves, one of which were wrapped around a longsword with a wide blade and purple and pink lightning surrounding it.

The Butcher raised its second set of arms to block the incoming attack, Ether Crystals forming on its skin to enhance its defense.

They were cut clean off with ease, like a hot knife through butter.

The Butcher swung the arm holding the head of the spear.

It was caught by your free hand and torn from its grip before using it to send The Butcher flying towards the Tanker.

“Uh-oh.” Anby muttered while Nicole screamed and Billy screeched as he grabbed the pair, Eous hitching a ride on his back.

After that, everyone lost sight of what happened next.

However, the massive explosion and the Hollow Shrinking to minuscule levels gave them a good idea of what occurred.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Sis, you’ve watched that video a hundred times…” Wise muttered, concerned for his sister’s newest obsession.

This mysterious “Kresnik” person.

If they were a person…

He had never seen someone fight like that… ever.

Were they bending space time in a localized and controlled area, creating a stable and intentional version of the Fissures that riddled Hollows?

Or were they just that fast?

They definitely had the strength the stories said they had if the way they kept ragdolling The Butcher around was any indication.

Still… was this “Kresnik” a friend or a foe?

It was too early to tell.

However, before Wise could get too deep into his own thoughts, Fairy spoke.

“Correction: Master has watched the video 156 times. This is her 157th.”

Wise shook his head.

“Alright Belle, time for bed.” he declared as he grabbed her by the back of her jacket.

“Five more minutes!” Belle whined as she was pulled out of her seat.

“Nope. We’ve got work to do tomorrow. Besides, is that Video really that cool?” Wise asked as he continued to drag Belle along.

“YES!” Belle exclaimed with stars in her eyes causing wise to sigh and shake his head for the 157th time today.

[ardentkurashk]

[☺ Ka'zalii - Knight of the Silver Void☺]

1. [CHARACTER INFO]

OC NAME: Ka'zalii

OC PRONOUS: He/Him

AUTHOR: @ardentkurashk

2. [DIALOGUE]

1. Greeting message:

Do you have something for me, ra'stil?

2. Identify yourself:

Ka'zalii. I serve the Sha'sal Khou as kith'rak, though it was not always so.

3. Tell me about your Creche:

Xal'i'n is far from here, in the depths of wildspace. It orbits a long dead planet that my kin made much use of. Searing storms of glass and sand and ethereal creatures are good for removing the weak. [He pauses, lost in uncomfortable memories for a moment.] I left long ago.

4. I need to know how you fight:

I trained with many weapons as a yank, though I find the blade most useful. I am a sorcerer first and foremost however and my innate talents manifested wilder than most. My magic can be.. unpredictable. [He lowers his voice.] Useful in battle more often than not, but don't stand too close.

5. Can I ask a more personal question?

Yes, I enjoy our conversation.

6. What is your relationship with the divinity?

Tas'ki, I assume you mean Vlaakith? Kain'cha. I bear no love for the lich queen. Neither should you, if you have wits about you. She is no god.

7. What do you usually do in your free time?

I enjoy collecting gems of all kinds and selecting the most striking for my armour. [He points to the series of gems set into his chestplate as he speaks.]

I also like to cook, it's oddly relaxing. There are dozens of ways to cook neogi for instance and I intend to know them all.

8. What is your life goal?

To unite our people under one sky of course, what else? The removal of the tyrant queen is but the first step. And perhaps, we might all enjoy a life of freedom afterwards.

9. How is your relationship with your allies?

Allies. Or, that istik word, friends. I had never put much thought into alliances before I became stranded on an istik world. Since then, forging bonds has become extremely important to me. We are nothing without our strongest kin.

10. Do you have someone special in your life?

G'lyck. Very personal, ra'stil. I will answer. I do have a mate and she is very dear to me. She is as beautiful and formidable as the astral sea itself. She is my silver.

11. Say something you would never do, and why?

As tempting as it is to mention the tyrant again.. I must learn to be less zealous around kin who are already allies. So, I will say.. you would not find me anywhere near a humid climate. That is more of a nightmare than any ghaik could conjure.

12. What is a perfect day to you?

A glorious battle perhaps? No? We fight almost constantly, I have learned to look forward to days where I can just.. be. Our people do not set aside enough time for talking.

13. How do you celebrate a victory?

With my mate. Some pilfered drink and well cooked food also does wonders for morale.

14. How do you deal with defeat and losses?

I learn from them. We persist, as all githyanki must, but we will not achieve victory if we don't study our mistakes.

15. How do you think you will be remembered after death?

Ideally? As a catalyst for change, for resistance. Though it is just as likely I will be remembered as a dissident, or not remembered at all. It is no matter, it will not stop me from remaining faithful to my ideals.

3. [GRAPHICS]

4. [BONUS RESOURCES] The reference I finally put together for him.

whew I finally did the post, sorry for taking ages, @vikintor

[scifriskyxy]

I've been meaning to make Mlp oc for a LONG while

I never found the motivation to do it until now, day hello to the semi silent knowledge hoarder of the icy wasteland of the north

Bluemoon

She's an Alicorn that came before Celestia, Celestia did detect her and seek her out once she herself became an alicorn ,she lives in her lonesome, collecting all knowledge from all races preserving them, she gave Celestia the knowledge to seal people in the heavens which aided in her fight to found equestria

Bluemoon doesn't like to rule ,she's technically would be the princess of stars if crowned, but she's just known by the keeper of knowledge by those who study magic,not much is known about her ,what's striking about her is that she has aspects of a vastly different never before seen subspecies of earth pony that give her hooves specialized to do well in the snow giving her a further boost to her defenses ,she's far heavier to make up for her weight she has bigger and stronger wings, her feathers resemble those of a snowy owl allowing her to fly around silently she unlike the other alicorns her growth and magic seems far slower based on her not that ethereal appearance she has

She has obviously gone through her fair share of battles by her split yet still working horn and missing leg/arm?? Hoof thing.

Legends has it that an alicorn took out an entire army on her own by burying them all in an endless blizzard of ice and snow

[tsunami-of-tears]

A Court of Shadows and Sunshine — Part Eleven

Azriel x Aurora (OC)

Summary: It’s the Winter Solstice and Aurora is enjoying the Night Court traditions with her family. We also have a rare Vanserra appearance. 

Wordcount: 1.6K

Warnings: the fluffiest of fluff, slight smut (foreplay only, mostly petting, no actual penetration on page)

Part Ten

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･

Aurora

Solstice was upon you before you knew it - the passing of time had grown as hazy as the morning mist. 

Your days were full of training, with evenings spent loving up to your mate; getting cozy under blankets by the fire, tangled in sheets with strong hands holding you tightly. 

You barely stopped for long enough to notice the changing of the seasons and the growing chill in the air. 

————

“Do they truly do this every year?” you ask. 

It’s the morning of Winter Solstice, and you find yourself among your family, relaxing in front of the glowing fire. 

“Since they were boys,” Mor shakes her head, smiling fondly, “I swear they never grew up.”

You smile to yourself at the image of your mate and his brothers playing in the snow. You wonder how dangerous a snowball would be when wielded by an Illyrian warrior. 

You’re pulled from your daydream by a tall figure standing in the doorway.

The male steps forward into the living room, the warm glow of the fire seems to radiate from his flowing red hair. The brutal scar stretching from above his brow down to his cheek was a stark contrast to the ethereal beauty of his face. 

The male’s eyes drew you in - one of russet brown, and the other wholly gold and whirring as he casts it around the room. 

He was striking, but there was something familiar about him. Not in the same way your soul recognised your mate before you felt the pull of the bond. No, this was like seeing a childhood friend all grown up. 

Feyre stands, pulling the male into a hug. “Lucien, I’m so happy you could join us for Solstice.” She pulls back, holding Lucien’s shoulders as her eyes scan his face and she turns towards you with a warm smile. “I don’t believe you two have met. Lucien, this is Aurora, our latest Valkyrie recruit,” Feyre says with a wink at you. 

He bows gracefully and extends his hand to you. “It’s lovely to meet you, Aurora.” 

You curtsy in response, taking his outstretched hand. “Pleased to meet you too, Lucien.” 

Your eyes flick towards Feyre and Mor who are grinning at you wildly, they appear to be discussing something mind-to-mind.

Lucien arches a brow quizzically towards your High Lady. “Why are you acting strange Feyre? Do you have more cauldron-shattering news? Should I sit down?” 

Feyre’s smile drops ever so slightly as she says, “Nothing at all, I just missed my friend.” 

Lucien chuckles softly, “If you say so.” 

Everyone settles in again, Nesta and Mor joining you on the larger couch. Lucien sits poised on the smaller lounge while Feyre fills everyone’s glasses. 

Feyre pauses her toast as Elain enters the room with hesitant steps. Lucien’s eyes fall on her instantly and you can’t glean what his expression means - whether it’s joy or sorrow. You swear you hear him whisper her name. 

Elain smiles softly and takes a seat next to Lucien before pouring herself a glass. “What are we toasting to?” she asks. 

“To family,” Feyre answers, raising her glass. 

You send a wave of love down the bond as you raise your own glass. 

————

Cassian and Rhys look very pleased when they return from the cabin. Azriel trails behind them, looking a bit flat but his face noticeably lifts when he locks eyes on you. 

He beelines to the empty space next to you on the lounge, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you into his lap. His head falls to rest on top of yours. Your hands lay on his and you idly draw small circles into his skin. 

“I missed you today,” Azriel murmurs into your hair. 

“Me too,” you sigh, settling into his warm embrace. 

Feyre coos softly at your public display of affection, “You two are so cute.” 

You barely notice Lucien’s brows furrow briefly before straightening out again as he watches you and Azriel. 

“Who won?” Nesta asks.

Azriel lifts his head off of yours to respond gruffly, “Rhys.” 

“Someone was a bit distracted this year,” Cassian smirks.

“A bit? That was the most pathetic fighting display I've seen from you, Az. It’s not even fair that I won.” Rhys shakes his head in mock disapproval, but his smile is broad as he looks over at the pair of you. Your High Lord gives you a wink as your eyes meet. 

You turn towards your mate, giving him a guilty look. Your eyes asking a silent question, whether it was your fault he was so distracted.

Azriel sends pure adoration down the bond as his frown shifts into a grin. “I’ve decided I’m more of a lover than a fighter.” You squeal as he presses many sloppy kisses all over your cheek and the side of your neck.

“Ugh, get a room,” Mor groans.

“We have one,” you say, smiling as you lean further into your mate's loving touch. 

Lucien sighs and runs a hand through his long locks, “So much changes so quickly around here.”

————

As everyone grew weary and the day’s celebrations drew to an end, you winnowed back to your apartment with Azriel for the final festivity. You had agreed earlier to give your presents to each other in private, wanting to keep the special moment for yourselves. 

You look up at Azriel contentedly, “Today was amazing. Thank you for letting me be a part of it.” 

“There’s no one else I’d rather share it all with,” he says, kissing you on the top of your head. 

You stand still in your silent embrace, enjoying the peace that always comes when you’re together.

Azriel gives you his gift first. You pull firmly on the gold ribbon, untying the bow around the present before unsheathing it from the paper. 

It’s a book, brand new with golden lettering on the front. 

Your eyes scan the title, the book is about the history of yoga.

“This is from the Mortal Lands. How did you get this?” you ask, looking up at your mate with wonder.

“I have connections,” he winks at you. 

Your heart skips a beat as you flip through the pages, eyes breezing over the chapter titles. “This is perfect, thank you so much. I really love it.”

You give Azriel a soft kiss before reaching for his present. You gingerly hand over the small box, fidgeting with your now free hands as you watch him open it. 

He carefully lifts the lid, looking at your gift before meeting your nervous gaze with a warm smile. “I take it there’s a story to this?” he asks.

“That was my father’s wedding band. You don’t have to wear it like that if you don’t want to, but I wanted you to have it.”

Azriel arches a brow, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “You want to marry me?” 

“Of course I do. And I will accept the bond too, but I’d like to have a traditional mating ceremony, surrounded by our family.”

Azriel breaks into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his handsome face as he picks you up and spins you around. You both laugh as he pulls you closer, your legs wrapping around his waist as he kisses you so deeply and full of love that you feel it all the way to your toes. 

He holds you tight in his arms and drops his forehead to yours. “You know, typically the male proposes to the female.” 

“My love, there is nothing typical about us.” 

You lean forward and kiss him. Your lips move with purpose, claiming his mouth, his body. 

Azriel kisses you back with just as much passion, desire roaring down the bond and setting your body ablaze. 

Your legs tighten around Azriel’s waist as his tongue slips past the seam of your mouth. You press even closer, as if you could become one being, one soul. 

You feel the soft mattress beneath your back as Azriel lowers you to the bed. His hands cage you in, holding the bulk of his weight above you. Your legs hold firm as he grinds into you with his hips. 

Azriel trails fervent kisses along your jaw, sucking the spot beneath your ear. A soft moan escapes your lips as he sucks harder, the trail of love bites left behind marking you as his. 

“There is nothing I want more than to be yours,” Azriel whispers against your flesh. “I want to let the world know. I’ll scream it from the House of Wind, all the the way to Spring and beyond. To marry you, would make me the luckiest male in the world.” 

You cup Azriel’s face as you take in his hazel eyes. “You are mine, just as much as I am yours.” 

You kiss him again, but slower this time. 

You take your time to memorise every inch of his mouth, the way his muscled back flexes under your touch, the growing heat between your legs. 

Azriel lifts himself up as you remove the layers of fabric between you, craving as much skin-on-skin as possible. 

He settles back against you, arousal pooling in your center as your bodies mould together. 

Azriel drags his length against you and your eyes flutter closed, every cell in your body aching for him. 

Azriel continues with the unhurried pace, indulging in every second. 

There was no rushing. Every stroke was calculated, intentional; with the goal of wringing as much pleasure from your bodies as possible. 

No, there was no need to race to the end; not when you had forever. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧

A/N: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! I wanna cryyyy! This is the *final part* before the epilogue. 

It’s been quite an adventure writing this, and I feel like I’m happy enough to end the story here. There may be opportunities to reprise these characters in the future, but they will be stand-alone bonus chapters. 

From the bottom of my heart, thank you to all who have followed along with this fic. I never expected anyone to read my writing. It started as a silly idea I had while daydreaming at the gym and turned into a greater exploration of my trauma. I’m so grateful for the opportunity to share this journey with you all, and for the friends I’ve made along the way. 

All my love, Shelbs ♡

Tags ♡ @mis-lil-red @nickishadow139 @lilah-asteria

Epilogue

[cheezyharu]

Happ halowen pt.2: Song edition

[redrawthecolorlessworld]

trick or treat! :D

weeeeeeeeeeee

[damiiimidassss]

Chung Myung x Yin Yue(oc)

Chapter 2: Second life, Burn

Info: It seems that this life is much more traumatic than the other. This is Yin Yue's most traumatic life she had, she had never forgotten what everything happened here.

Tw: death, mentions of cult

This chapter will have sketches of what the characters look like

Chap3

200 years had passed before both of them got reborn

The smell of incense clung to the heavy air, swirling in the dim light of the temple, where the cult leaders sat in the shadow of their own twisted power. In the heart of the cult, among rituals and whispers of control, a young girl named Chung Myung—the reincarnation of him —was born. She was the daughter of the cult leader, raised to be the future head of their fanatical order, surrounded by secrets and blood oaths.

Chung Myung's beauty was ethereal, her presence commanding even at a young age. But within her eyes, there was something different. 'Her soul, though unaware, was bound to a past life, to mistakes and betrayals.

Unbeknownst to her, there was someone watching over her, someone who had known her for far longer than she could imagine.

His name was Yin Yue her personal guard. A man of strong stature, sharp-eyed and loyal—or so the cult believed. But Yin Yue was not simply a guard. He remembered everything. Their past life. Past heartbreak. In his previous life, he had been the lover of the man who was now reincarnated as a woman.

He had seen Chung Myung—the man he loved—turns into a woman. But Yin Yue had never stopped loving him, even after death. Now, seeing Chung Myung reborn as girl, he was determined to protect her, to break the cycle that had brought them nothing but suffering.

Yin Yue met Chung Myung with the same smile Yin Yue always adored

Chung Myung was different in this life. Innocent, pure, unaware of the curse that had bound her to heartbreak in every incarnation. But she was trapped in the cult, a prisoner of her birthright, expected to lead them when the time came.

YIn Yue had been placed by her side as a protector, an enforcer of the cult’s will. But secretly, he had vowed to save her from their clutches—and from the curse that clung to her fate.

In the stillness of the night, Yin Yue would watch over Chung Myung as she slept, his heart heavy with the memories of their past life, aching for the love they had shared and lost. He could never tell her the truth—she wouldn’t understand, not yet. But he could protect her. He could rewrite their story.

One night, as they stood together on the balcony of the towering cult fortress, Chung Myung turned to him, her eyes soft under the moonlight.

"Yin Yue," she said quietly, "Why do you always look at me as if you’ve known me forever?"

Yin Yue's breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t tell her—not everything—but something in her gaze, the quiet longing, urged him to speak.

"Because," he began, choosing his words carefully, "In another life, I think we knew each other. I swore to protect you, always."

Chung Myung smiled, a flicker of something familiar in her expression, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“I trust you,” she said softly, her hand lightly brushing his arm. “I feel safe with you.”

Yin Yue's heart ached, knowing that even now, as their bond began to bloom again, tragedy loomed. The cult was growing restless, its leaders more fanatical by the day. He had heard whispers—dark plans, dangerous rituals. They were planning something violent, something that would tear Chung Myung's family apart.

But worse, the curse still lingered, waiting for the moment to strike.

One night, the prophecy came to pass. The cult revolted against Chung Myung's family, claiming that the leaders had grown too weak, too complacent. They sought a new beginning—one that would rise from the ashes of the old.

Yin Yue fought through the chaos, his blade slashing through enemies as the fortress burned around him. Flames roared, devouring the wood and stone, casting an orange glow across the night sky. He had to find Chung Myung, had to save her before it was too late.

Inside the heart of the fire, Chung Myung stood frozen, her eyes wide with horror as she watched her family perish in the flames. The cult members turned on them, one by one, executing them in cold blood. Her father, the great cult leader, was engulfed by the blaze as he tried to save his power.

Yin Yue reached her just as the flames closed in. He grabbed her hand, pulling her from the wreckage, but as they ran through the burning hallways, a beam collapsed, separating them.

“Chung Myung! ” Yin Yue shouted, desperately trying to reach her through the inferno.

But as he fought his way toward her, the flames consumed the world around him. In the final moments before the building collapsed, Chung Myung face flashed before him, her terrified eyes locking onto his. In that instant, the memories of every life, every death, seemed to flood back into her, the realization of who they once were dawning in her gaze.

She whispered his name—"Yin Yue, my love", as if she finally remembered.

And then the flames took her.

Yin Yue screamed, rushing forward, but it was too late. The cult’s fortress crumbled around him, the fire swallowing everything in its path. As he stood amidst the ruins, the ash and smoke choking the air, he realized that the curse had struck again. He had failed once more.

Yin Yue cried his heart out, the light in his eyes completely gone

Chung Myung was gone, and with her, the chance to break the curse in this life. But as the fire burned out and the cult's stronghold lay in ruins, Yin Yue knew one thing: they would meet again. The curse would bring them together once more, in another life, and he would try again to break the tragic cycle that bound their souls.

He grabs his swords his hands shaking, he slits his throat as he coughed blood. A familiar darkness in his vision.

Yin Yue decided he would get much stronger. Yin Yue will kill Ling alone without Chung Myung by her side, but that's okay. Because Chung Myung won't even remember Yin Yue

For love was eternal, and even in death, Yin Yue would not abandon Chung Myung.

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

A quick tradegy art!!

[zenless-zideblog-zero]

ZZZ OC'S, poorly described.

Scylla "Coldsnap" Noriker: An Otter Thiren that is as loving as an Otter Looks, and just as vicious as they really are. She loves her family (when they aren't annoying the absolute shit out of her.) Despite her love of frozen treats and enemies, She's a big fan of the warmer months.

"Everyone needs to Chill out!" - Scylla before freezing everyone on the battlefield, including her siblings.

Ice/Anomaly Agent

Keenan "Knucker" Noriker: An Electric Ray Thiren, very skittish and fearful, but in that way, deeply brave by standing beside his siblings in dangerous situations. He loves his sisters and Brother (If only the younger ones were a bit more productive.) Loves people, hates talking to them.

"I'M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!" - Keenan, blocking a Typhon Slugger's strike and proceeding to decimate it with ease.

Electric/Defense Agent

Violet "Queen" Noriker: A Wasp Thiren that really acts like a queen ... That is to say, Somewhat full of herself and bossy. Not haughty and Vain, but confident and flippant. She is rarely punished for this, so it's hard to say she's overconfident. Nothing gets her down, but when she's down She's down.

"Keep your hands off my Brother!" Violet, Going to skewer a Thanatos for its insolence.

Ether/Anomaly Agent

Jasper "Bomber" Noriker: A Falcon Thiren, as bullheaded as teenagers come. Flippant, lackadaisical, and aloof, he grinds all his siblings gears as much as they grind his. He's not dumb despite acting like a meathead. He says he loves his siblings, but at the same time he hates them for being on his back so much.

He has a sword collection.

"Justice Served Cold, LEAD SERVED HOT!" Jasper as he unloads his shotgun at a Hollow Raider.

Fire/Damage

[gunnrblze]

The Ghost Boys as more random songs I love (+my oc Strike) ( ˘ ³˘) ♡

Hesh- Nothings Gonna Hurt You Baby by Cigarettes After Sex (yup. that’s all LMAO he’s so hnsgshsj)

Logan- Whole by Basement (all the lyrics are very pit Logan I’m afraid…)

Elias- New Years Day by U2 (no thoughts head empty, it’s just him)

Merrick- Another Space Song by Failure (“it’s okay to be lonely, all my missions float away, I never trained too hard, I’m so caught up in the tree of stars” stay with me stay with me…)

Keegan- I’m God by Clams Casino (this just sounds like his dramatic self. an ethereal feeling his aloof ass kinda gives lol)

Kick- Blood by Editors (idk this song is just really good, sounds like him i fear. i have sooo many songs for him specifically pls help i might have to make a whole separate post)

Rorke- Bloodhail by Have A Nice Life (the lyrics, stay with me now. “I feel the top of the roof come off, kill everybody there/And our clothes are all too often ripped, and our teeth are all often too gnashed”…etc etc)

Strike-Dead of Night by Orville Peck (yearning melancholic gay cowboy. no more evidence, your honor. if he were a song it’d be this one lol)

[pxnsneverland]

Beauty and the Boss | austin!elvis x oc (part 10)

plot summary: Laura Jean Walker is the daughter to Louisiana’s most powerful mafia boss, but to her, he’s just her jail warden. When she sneaks out to the Louisiana Hayride with her friend she sees Elvis Presley perform and instantly knows something is special about this boy. Especially when he saves her from being assaulted by a townie. She thinks she’s on cloud 9 until she gets kidnapped in the middle of the night by the Memphis Mafia led by Elvis himself. Will Laura Jean try to free herself or will something hold her back from finding her way home?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 2500

warnings/notes: N/A

Chapter 10

              Never before had I witnessed such a torrent of tears cascade from Elvis's eyes, despite the numerous tales he had shared with me about his childhood. He held onto me tightly, his grip unyielding, as the blinding flashes of the cameras illuminated the area. It was as if he feared that I, too, would slip away from his grasp if he dared to release his hold. In the midst of his anguished sobs, he valiantly responded to the probing inquiries of the reporters, each word escaping his lips with a raspy, hoarse timbre. As the minutes ticked by, the imposing figure of the Colonel cast a shadow over the amassed crowd, akin to a circling vulture, ever watchful and ready to strike. The weight of responsibility settled upon my shoulders, a resolute thought echoing through my mind. "I need to protect him," I whispered, my determination unwavering. 

              The passage of time resembled delicate petals carried by the whimsical breeze. Although Elvis continued to perform and make public appearances, there was a noticeable dimness in his eyes - a flicker that had once burned brightly with the love he had received from his Mama. Familiar was I with that ethereal glow, intimately acquainted with the searing ache that accompanied its absence. With persistent resolve, you pressed forward, steadfastly navigating the treacherous terrain of pain. It loomed ominously, an ever-present specter, poised to snatch away any semblance of tranquility you had managed to procure. I made every effort to maintain Elvis's high spirits to the best of my abilities. The majority of instances proved fruitful, as my efforts gradually yielded the desired outcome of coaxing a smile from him once more. In the moments when Elvis found respite from the relentless gaze of the public eye, he sought solace in the simplicity of our intimate relationship. On most occasions, we found solace within the confines of his room or the red room, enveloped in our own private realm, impervious to any external disturbances. The looming peril that my father presented gradually receded from my consciousness, transforming into a haunting reverie. Maybe, in a moment of resignation, he had come to the realization that I was resolute in my decision to stay with Elvis, regardless of his desperate attempts to win me back. In the depths of my consciousness, I harbored a flicker of hope, although I was acutely aware that it was merely a product of my own desires, a figment of my imagination.

              The delicate bubble of hope that enveloped me was abruptly burst one fateful afternoon, just as Elvis and I returned to the sanctuary of Graceland. Our spirits were still buoyant from a meeting that the Colonel had arranged with a prominent Hollywood producer. “Colonel said once this deal is signed he’ll make me a real actor,” Elvis declared with a wide grin, his voice filled with anticipation, “Starrin’ in real Hollywood movies.” As he skillfully maneuvered his vehicle, he arrived at the grand entrance, a sprawling driveway leading up to the majestic main house.  “Said he’s already got some potential actin’ parts already lined up. They’re just waitin’ for the go ahead.”

              A surge of joy enveloped me as I beheld his happiness. From the moment Elvis and I forged a profound relationship, his constant drive to pursue a career as a serious actor became a recurring theme in our conversations. “That’s amazin’, sweetheart! All your dreams comin’ true. Your Mama would be so proud of you.”

              A fleeting moment saw his smile transform into a melancholic expression. “Yeah, she would be. Especially since she left you here to look after me.” Elvis silenced the engine's rumble, yet remained motionless, his hand lingering on the ignition. Concealed behind the darkened lenses of his sunglasses, he exuded an air of profound contemplation. With a deliberate motion, he removed his sunglasses, revealing eyes that held a hint of weariness. His gaze shifted downward, fixating on his lap, as if seeking solace or perhaps contemplating the weight of the world. “You know, darlin’…when this deal is signed and all…I’m gonna have to move to California for a while.”

              Naturally, I had been aware of that fact, yet I couldn't help but wonder why he appeared so visibly anxious. Had the Colonel had informed him of mine being unable to accompany them? The words uttered by that man were truly astonishing. If I had to, I'd go kicking and screaming and battling him all the way. I refused to allow him to manipulate Elvis's mind in my absence. “I know that.”

              “Well…” His gaze fell upon me in that moment. His hands trembled ever so slightly, betraying a hidden vulnerability. “I was wonderin’ if you wanted to come with me…”

              Was that the source of his anxiety? Was he not aware of the unwavering devotion that bound me to his side, propelling me to traverse the vast expanse of this world and venture even further into the unknown? “As if you c---”

              “As my wife.” The suddenness with which he interrupted me left me momentarily stunned, struggling to fully comprehend his words. A tingling sensation enveloped my mouth, rendering it momentarily numb, as his hand delved into the depths of his jacket pocket. With a graceful motion, he retrieved a petite velvet box. Nestled within the confines of the box lay a resplendent diamond ring, its brilliance so captivating that I could only imagine the staggering price tag it bore. The mere thought of inquiring about its value threatened to overwhelm my senses, as if the revelation would render me unconscious in disbelief. “I know we ain’t never talked about gettin’ married and California is basically a whole ‘nother world compared to Graceland. And I know I’m just some mafia leader who lucked himself into a singin’ career. But, Laura Jean, I ain’t met anyone like you and I’m sure I never will again. You know the real me, the good parts and the bad and still you choose to love me. And I love you so much I feel like my heart is gonna burst every time you look at me.” A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. “Will you marry me?”

              As I savored the moment, a peculiar sensation overcame me - it was as if my tongue had undergone a remarkable transformation, expanding within the confines of my mouth. Words eluded me, trapped within the confines of my mind. Elvis Presley, you have my heart. Unbeknownst to you, it was your actions that liberated me from the confines of my cage. I found myself nodding vigorously, my heart brimming with joy as tears of happiness cascaded down my cheeks. Elvis's apprehensive face swiftly dissipated as he delicately extracted the ring from its ornate box, gracefully sliding it onto my awaiting finger. With an ardent embrace, I enveloped my arms around his neck, drawing myself closer to the driver's seat as if our souls were intertwined. In a moment of undeniable passion, I pressed my lips against his, savoring the taste of our connection. His hands gently cradled my face, as if holding a fragile treasure. In that tender embrace, both of us silently yearned for time to stand still, desperate to prolong this fleeting moment of bliss. However, it complied with the natural order of things, for both of us were compelled to breathe.

              “Is that a yes?” he uttered in a hushed tone, his lips lingering in proximity to mine.

              “As if anything could keep me away from you.”

              Our attachment was abruptly severed by the jarring clamor emanating from the passenger's side door. Jerry and Billy were in a state of frantic panic. Elvis appeared visibly perturbed by the untimely interruption that had disrupted the delicate tinder moment we were sharing. As we emerged from the vehicle, Elvis's exit was marked by a resounding slam, a touch more forceful than his customary manner.

“Jerry! Billy! What the hell is wrong with y’all bangin’ on my car like that?!” Elvis yelled as he came around to stand next to me on the other side of the car.

“Move! EP, you guys gotta move!” Jerry's voice pierced the air, its urgency leaving no room for questions. In a swift motion, he and Billy seized us, their hands tugging us away from the vehicle, propelling us to safety. As we ascended the staircase of the estate, a thunderous explosion erupted, shattering the tranquility of the moment, and sending us sprawling to the ground, our senses overwhelmed by the sheer force of the blast. With lightning-fast reflexes, Elvis deftly intercepted my impending collision, ensuring that instead of a painful impact with the unforgiving corner of the steps, I found myself safely ensconced in his protective embrace. The formidable force barreled through the rustling foliage, causing a tempestuous dance among the leaves. Its unyielding power was such that it shattered a window, sending shards of glass cascading into the delicate embrace of the flower bed below.

“Are you alright, darlin’?” Elvis asked, his voice filled with frantic urgency, my head still buried in the comforting embrace of his chest.

I gently nodded, finding comfort in his eyes. Gently, my fingertips grazed his cheek, tracing the faint mark that now marred his otherwise flawless skin. “I’m fine. What happened?”

Without granting him a moment to respond, I swiftly averted my gaze towards Elvis's vehicle, the very one that had sheltered us mere moments ago. Alas, it now stood consumed by a raging inferno, its once pristine exterior scattered haphazardly across the manicured lawn. The sudden and devastating explosion of a car bomb sent shockwaves through the air, shattering the tranquility of the surrounding area. As we embarked on our journey back, little did we know that it had been concealed within the confines of our vehicle all along. How was it possible that the explosive had not detonated? The distant wail of fire sirens reached my ears, their mournful cry piercing. With a swift motion, Elvis extended his hand towards me, urging me to rise from the ground. In a flurry of movement, he guided me towards the entrance of the house, accompanied by the presence of Jerry and Billy. Elvis's chest rose and fell with each breath, a rhythmic testament to the intensity of his emotions. A crimson hue had overtaken his countenance, transforming him into the very embodiment of the merciless gangster I had come to recognize he could be. His eyes narrowed as he fixed his gaze upon Jerry and Billy.

“Now, y’all wanna tell me how you knew there was a bomb in my car?” With lightning speed, Elvis lunged forward, seizing Jerry by the collar of his shirt. In one swift motion, he propelled him forcefully against the wall, causing a delicate vase to topple and shatter upon impact. “HOW DID YOU KNOW?! I swear, Jerry, if you’re turning against me now, I’ll kill you!”

Billy reached out, his fingers grasping Elvis's shoulder in a desperate attempt to dislodge Jerry. Alas, his efforts proved fruitless as Elvis remained firmly planted, unyielding to Billy's feeble endeavor. “It wasn’t us! We would never do that to you, EP.”

With a sudden, swift motion, Elvis's head whipped around.  “Then how did you know about the bomb?!”

In a moment of revelation, Billy unveiled a crumpled piece of paper that had eluded my attention until now. As a result of this unforeseen turn of events, Elvis made the difficult decision to release Jerry from his grip, allowing him to escape the clutches of danger. Elvis snatched the crumpled paper from Billy's grasp, his fingers delicately caressing its surface in an attempt to restore its former glory. His intent was clear - to decipher the words that lay hidden beneath the folds and creases, as if unraveling a mystery that begged to be solved. I peered over his shoulder, aching to catch a glimpse of the words myself:

I left Mr. Presley a little gift in his car. Fame can’t protect him forever. -Walker

              There was virtually no limit to how far this man might go. The audacious act of targeting Elvis's car with a bomb was a shocking and brazen endeavor. The potential for tragedy loomed ominously, as he possessed the capacity to end not only my life but also the lives of any unsuspecting individuals residing within the confines of Graceland, should they have found themselves in the ill-fated vehicle alongside Elvis. However, that was precisely the crux of the matter. In the discerning gaze of his eyes, none among us could claim innocence, not even I. Daddy, in his unyielding pursuit of victory, would not hesitate crush those who managed to surpass him in his own domain. As for myself, I would bear the consequences of daring to challenge his authority. This was the grand canine spectacle he had been forewarning me of. It was a world beyond mere blades and fist fights. Lives teetered on the precipice, their delicate balance hanging in the order, and among them, my own existence dangled precariously. In the depths of my contemplation, my mind wandered to the memory of my beloved mother. Her existence, tragically shortened by a conflict that had never been her own. Was I fated to be trapped in the relentless cycle of history's repetition? In contemplating the potential aftermath of my demise, a lingering question arises within me: would Elvis succumb to the same frigid detachment that seemed to consume Daddy's soul? Would the loss of my presence render him distant and devoid of emotion, mirroring the very essence of my father? Before me, time slipped away like a fleeting wisp of smoke, leaving me bereft of the opportunity to engage in deep contemplation. It was in this moment, when the world seemed to hold its breath, that the phone, with its insistent ring, shattered the silence. With an air of anticipation, Elvis effortlessly grasped the phone, as though he possessed an innate understanding of the identity of the caller on the other end. His anger intensified with each passing moment, fueled by the words that resonated through the receiver.

              “You sick, twisted bastard!” he bellowed vehemently through the telephone, “You could have killed her! If you want me dead so bad, you come here and face me yourself. You know where to find me.” With a force that seemed capable of shattering the delicate device, he abruptly terminated the call. “Jerry, Billy, gather everyone up. We gotta visitor comin’. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” With a firm grip, Elvis clasped my hand and whisked me away, his footsteps resounding through the labyrinthine hallways. “Laura Jean, I don’t want you leavin’ my side you hear me? Not until all of this is over.”

              “Elvis, what’s goin’ on? Who was that on the phone? What did they say?” There was no real need for me to ask questions. I knew.

              “Your Daddy is comin’,” he uttered the words, in a voice ablaze with the fury of damnation.

Stay tuned for part 11!! Click HERE to view!