#being immortal and wished for him to not die and then the next day he woke up as an alicorn

[soni-dragon]

cadence and shining armor, been doodling a lot of these guys the past few weeks :)

[solitary-traveler]

Hi hiii! I'm actually new here, and gosh i love your writing like since day 1 🛐🛐🛐

Would it be alright to request something like angst! Scaramouche where he's in an established relationship with y/n who decides to become immortal/ doll like so they can live for liek, an eternity with Scara? They could seek out Dottore. Their constitution would be more doll-like compared to Scara, with the visible ball joints and the creaking?? sounds when moving.

The thing would be, the reason Scaramouche fell inlove with them is because of their 'humanity'. You may end it however you wish to! ^^

The Price of Eternity

Loving Scaramouche was never easy He was immortal an you were not

Scaramouche x gn!reader

Notes: Hiiii thank you so much @whitesheeponthestreet, both for this and the compliment!! This was actually kinda fun to write! I like this prompt. In any case, here you go. Sorry it took so long 🙏 I kinda feel like my writing downgraded—

Art: shihatsu_0 on X

Warning: Just angst :) with a slight tinge of comfort?

Loving Scaramouche was never easy.

He was immortal, and you were not.

You sway with the grim reaper, and spin with the deities. Favored by the gods, you were gifted a heart that sang the most wonderful melodies—a song Scara cherished, worshipped, and loved.

Your entirety was a manifestation of those identified as "humans". Yet, it disgusts you.

Mortality means a limited lifespan. All beings die eventually, but human life is transient—a fleeting moment, a passing memory.

That frightens you.

You don't want to betray him.

Aware of the past tribulations carved into his being, you wanted to spare him more torment. He acts tough, but he's as fragile as glass—a precious, porcelain doll. He's barely holding on, and you don't want to shatter that.

You don't want to leave him alone.

Vanishing from his side—in any shape, way, or form—would be a betrayal. It's a pit you refuse to fall into.

That's what brought you here, to the presence of the Doctor.

"Are you sure about this decision? You know it would be irreversible," Dottore hums, hovering over you as you're strapped to a stained mattress. He feigns concern, his lips stretched into a wide smile.

"You can still say no if you'd like."

Despite his warning, he's already rummaging through the scattered tools on a nearby desk. His hands shake as he grabs a clipboard, reading a few lines before moving on to the next page. You simply shake your head in response.

"I know. But I want to do this. I have to."

The sinister smile never leaves Dottore's face. He taps the checklist and promptly snatches a syringe. He shakes the blue fluid inside before his gaze returns to you. Even with the mask, you know his eyes are sparkling with sadistic pleasure.

"Buckle up then, sweetheart. I'm not going to go easy on you."

You nod.

Not like it bothers you.

You love him too much to care about your humanity.

Loving you was never easy.

You were mortal, and he was not.

He wasn't indulged by any god, nor pampered by fate. He was merely created, tossed aside, and left to rot.

If only puppets could rot.

But none of that mattered anymore. His decisions and choices were his alone. No deity or destiny could interfere with the world he forged. The path he walked was stained with blood and lies, a passage he sculpted to scrub away every last trace of human emotion.

He wasn't born with a heart, so why bother with feelings?

Unfortunately, you—with your foolish and ardent self—managed to trespass the safe haven he struggled to create.

But that didn't stop him from loving you.

He was fascinated by your humanity.

How could something so delicate and insubstantial coexist with those that have higher utility?

It was all too intriguing. Compelling. Oh, how he loved it.

How he loved the way your chest rose and fell with each breath, your shifting temperatures that somehow warmed and cooled him down. But your heart... Oh, how he loved your heart.

The beating, the rhythm, everything. It was a constant reminder that you were alive. He liked that. He used to believe he solely existed for the sake of being. Yet your heart, the ever-present voice of reason, screamed, "You're alive too!"

After all these years, he finally felt like living.

Love was never easy.

You were now immortal, and so was he.

Yet, he doesn't feel as happy as he should. His chest feels empty. Hollow. As if something is missing—something more than a heart.

He holds you in his arms as you sleep peacefully. He raises his hand, slowly running his fingers over the ball sockets where your joints now connect. He recalls watching you stumble inside your shared apartment, your movements stiff as you clumsily made your way to him. He recalls your overjoyed smile as you hugged him, going on and on about how you now shared the same lifespan as him. Yet all he could think of was how smooth your skin was. Too smooth for his liking.

He thinks back to the sound of your joints creaking and grating with every move you make. It was horrible, the detestable screech irritating his ears. He looks back to that day, where he held your hand and pressed his lips against your forever cold skin. He remembers whispering, "I'd love you, no matter what you are."

But could he truly do so?

Scaramouche's thoughts spiral as he watches you, immobile and serene in his arms. He tries to convince himself that this new you, this immortal you, is what he always wanted. But the reality gnaws at him. Your once warm skin, a constant source of comfort, is now a cold, smooth surface that feels foreign against his touch. The rhythmic beating of your heart, which had been a soothing lullaby to his otherwise restless existence, is now a deafening silence that haunts him.

Every time he sees your stiff movements, hears the grating sounds of your joints, a pang of regret pierces through him. He had agreed to this transformation, thinking it was the solution to keep you by his side forever. But now, he questions whether it was the right choice. Was his love so fragile that it needed this drastic measure to endure?

He wrestles with his emotions, the conflict raging within him. He had always believed that love transcends physical form, that it is an unwavering force. But now, faced with this new reality, he feels the weight of his own hypocrisy. The physical changes have altered the very essence of what made you, you. The warmth, the breath, the heartbeat—gone.

As he looks at you, he feels a deep sense of loss. The vibrant, living being he fell in love with has been replaced by a lifeless replica. He wonders if he has been selfish, if his fear of losing you has led to this hollow existence. The guilt gnaws at him, amplifying his internal turmoil.

He was still going to love you forever.

But it will never be the same.

Loving you before had been like black coffee, strong and invigorating. This was like decaf—lacking the essence that made it real. He mourns the loss of the person you were, even as he clings to the shell that remains.

[tales-of-wocdes]

Very depressing question Author especially to pet lovers🥲

How would Havard and Lexia react if MC asked for their help to wake up their dog because it has been sleeping for too long, but when they checked they realized that it was actually dead because of old age? I wonder how would they break the news to MC since they are very attached to their pet (like it was the first being MC become close to in this question), and their understanding of *death* is still not fully developed.

I assume this older post is the context. Though that was a puppy, we will here assume MC is a child so we can assume this is a different head canon.

The dog's name for this snippet is "Storm.", because calling the dog, "dog" does not seem sufficient for such a snippet.

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

Havard and Lexia followed after MC, who said Strom had been asleep for long. As they arrived into MC's room, Havard knelt next to the sleeping dog.

He laid a hand on Strom... and knew what had happened. The body was still warm, but life had left it. A peaceful way to go, while asleep.

He glanced at Lexia, trying to communicate silently what has happened. The Protector walked over to lay a hand on the dog too. A nod with sad eyes was all she did, before both turned to an anxious MC.

"I am sorry, MC. " He said gently. "Storm has returned to the Eternal Flow."

MC looked confused. "When will Storm be back?" The child asked, not understanding the meaning.

Havard glanced at Lexia who nodded.

"MC, returning to the Eternal Flow means that Storm has passed away."

"Away?" MC dashed to the dog and shook the still form. "I don't get it, why won't Storm wake up?"

"It means, that Storm is gone MC." Havard tried gently. "That Storm no longer feels pain or needs to breathe. Like an enchanted eternal sleep."

"But... but... I don't want him to sleep. I want him to wake up." MC said, and Havard knew he had to explain it better.

"I am sorry, MC but Storm won't wake up." Havard says gently as Lexia moves to hold MC's hand gently in hers. "Death is a part of life, MC. Everyone dies in the end." Well, there were lots of immortals but that would be too complicated right now. And they could die too. "It is a natural part of life. Storm's life has ended, and you can be sad about it. You can grieve." He said gently, kneeling in front of MC. "Do you understand?" He asked softly.

MC looked at Storm for a long time. "Can't Grandpa fix it?" MC asked eventually. "Fix Storm? Or the bath?"

Havard wished he knew for certain... He had no idea what Lord Sheo was capable of, but he was aware that the Ancients did not bring people back. It was not like people had not asked them.

"No, MC. I don't think even Lord Sheo can reverse death. Nor can the healing baths." He said gently.

MC's grip on Lexia's hand tightened, as much as it could with the child's bad hands.

"Storm's happy... in the Flow thing?" MC asked eventually.

It was not quite so simple... Havard did not have all the answers. He did not want to lie... but perhaps something reassuring.

"I believe so. I don't know for sure, but I believe so." He whispered.

MC stared at him for a long time after that, perhaps searching for lies...

Havard hugged MC. The child did not understand. They would eventually. There could be tears in the future, once it sank in. For now, his explanation would have to be enough.

It was a slow day after that. Both Lexia and Havard stayed with MC, speaking about Storm after finding a nice spot in the garden to lay the canine to rest.

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

It is Havard heavy, but I feel this would be mostly him. Lexia would go for it, only if Havard was not available and it is quite long.

[hazymoonlinh]

Art.

Logos x Reader

(Reader can be doctor if you want)

Why am I cooking this at 2AM 💀🤟

…

___

“Who should you love?”

It was a title of a post that y/n saw one day. It was a boring night after all, so she didn’t scroll down, instead, she keeps reading it.

You should love a poet, a musician, a painter.

An artist.

Because when they love you, they will create masterpieces of you.

Y/n thinks this is something that only happened in stories, so she just let out a silent chuckle.

But oh now how wrong that is.

Unknowingly to her, she’s now the muse of one.

That man, that artist was Aefanyl.

And you too, are an artist of love.

___

Logos will not admit it to anyone, but you've become his muse. The way you talk, the way you laugh, the way you smile.

Everything about you is a masterpiece to him, one that he wants to commit to memory, to write poems, to immortalize it with words...

But most importantly, to hold you close to his chest, to feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his, the feel of your breathing, the sound of his name...

His name, on your lips.

He feels... inspired... to write. For the first time in a while, Logos feels the inspiration hit him. He knows what he wants to write. That spark of inspiration he hadn't felt in quite awhile.

His pen moved with new found vigor, his words flowing...

It's you.

Logos use a bone pen to elegantly cast incantation, a bone flute to let the banshee's music echo.

Being a Sarkaz means using even those things to fight, to accept the blood flowing in his veins, to fight for eternity without rest.

The talented young Banshee has known it since he has awareness of his surroundings.

But now,

He finds himself writing poems with that pen, instead of casting spells or incantation.

Or playing a tune for you to hear, this time the song doesn’t burn his blood anymore.

_____

You haven’t touch the brush for a very long time, it has become dusty under a pile of old documents. But now, you saw yourself painting him, the brushstrokes are a bit different.

He has the most beautiful appearance that you have ever seen. Even prettier than a lot of woman.

Delicate features as if crafted by the gods themselves, long eye lashes, soft lips, smooth skin.

His red iris-a red iris is truly mesmerizing, almost otherworldly in its intensity. Its vivid hue is captivating, exuding a sense of mystery and rare beauty.

The deep, rich color draws you in like a gemstone glowing with an inner fire, making it impossible to look away. It’s a bold and stunning feature that leaves a lasting impression, hinting at stories untold behind those eyes.

After finishing the painting, you feel a pride in your chest. But what do you do with it now? Whatever, let’s just hang it in your room.

You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain

Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape

________

Logos once wish that his mother would sing him the elegy if he dies in the battlefield, that way he would be in the arms of his kind until the end.

But now, with you here, he wishes to live a bit longer, praying to himself.

“Please, let me stay with her until the very end.”

He wants you to also sing the elegy. Logos's mind is filled with the thought of you. That was his new wish, with the thought that if he's to die one day, he'll die at least knowing you'll be singing for him...

Love still bloom in this doomed world, like how he still finds his way back to you after every battle he faced. In your arms, he’s not the lord of the Banshee, nor Logos, just Aefanyl.

He loves all of it. The way you laugh, the way you smile, the way you hold him. He loves it all. He loves *you.*

The way you kiss him, the sounds you make, the way you hold him close, the way you wrap your legs around him. The way he gets to hold you close, to feel your breathing and your heart next to his.

He can't seem to get enough of it.

_____

He finishes writing, quietly setting his pen and paper aside before gently holding you close against his chest, his lips pressing gently against your forehead.

(It’s 3:30 now bye 💀)

[guess-that-ship]

S14 Round 2

Love and hatred

cw: violence, mention of torture

A mortal and immortal meet through mutual friends and become close, sharing things with each other that they would never share with anyone else. Together they conspire to achieve something huge, and as a a result accidentally cause grave destruction. The mortal dies, only to wake up and find himself completely unable to truly die, and at the mercy of someone that wants revenge. The immortal is arrested, tortured and exiled.

They meet again, now as enemies, pursuer and pursued. Both having changed greatly. The immortal doesn't remember anything, and the former mortal only recalls what he was taught: that they both deserve punishment. Yet, despite his hatred, he can't quite stop caring about the other, too afraid to know if the other feels the same as him. And as the immortal slowly regains blurry memories of someone he once cared for, that care seems to return as well…

Tree of Hope

cw: bullying

Girl 1 was born in a place where her appearance essentially alienated her and caused problem with social interactions, as well as made her deal with some bullying. And Girl 2? Girl 2 is quite literally a tree. However, she is a very special tree, and Girl 1 prays (basically) near her and begs for companionship. Girl 2 wishes to help, but can do nothing. Or can she? One day, she is offered a deal: she can become human and be trained for something. She immediately accepts, and when Girl 1 goes to the tree the next day, she finds her.

So, Girl 1 and Girl 2 are quite literally a tree and a human. They're in love, too, and they help being hope to each other, allowing Girl 1 get better. Yet, really, what happens when one dies? How does the other girl handle it? Does Girl 2 go back to being a plant and does Girl 1 keep said plant? And, more importantly: even if one doesn't die, what happens when they're approached by royalty, asking about Girl 2, having fallen in love with her?

[catbread0]

Can you please do a Kon kusuriuri x immortal reader so the reader is immortal and no matter what she's dose she can't die and she promised to herself that she would never fall in love again that till she meet Kon kusuriuri and it's like love at first sight but when Kon kusuriuri confessed his feelings the reader reject it and she says she'll just out live him but then Kon kusuriuri say that he's a kitsuna which makes him immortal so the reader finally admit that she also love him and it's just a happy ending

Kon-kusuriuri x Immortal! Reader

I loved doing this request. I hope you enjoy it and it meets your expectations!Sorry for any mistakes!

(*^▽^)/♪♪♪

Words: 771

Angst, death, comfort, happy ending

Mononoke (2024) Masterlist

A Curse into a Blessing

Oh, where should you start? You don't even remember why you became an immortal.

You once had a lover in what you thought was your normal life. However, you realize they will only get older while you stay the same young adult. It was devastating to see your lover die slowly in front of you when you vowed to each other to grow old together.

You blamed yourself and the mornings that came that drew your lover further from you.

After their final breath was drawn, you vowed not to fall in love again. You couldn’t bear the thought of never being able to leave this ground and to only see your lover die slowly again. You didn't want to be broken over and over again.

Could you even say that? You were ‘blessed’ with never dying. But to you, it was a curse.

As centuries passed, you decided to walk around Japan. You were broken and broken every time you saw a lovely couple. 

Every step you take is a never-ending journey that leads you to nowhere but an abyss of darkness.

It was currently raining, and you were soaking wet. You saw an entrance and sought to get at least some shelter.

As you stepped into the entrance, you heard the sound of wooden sandals making their way to you. You looked and saw a samurai with a pink and green kamishimo approaching you. 

He yelled something to another 2 samurais, and he guided you to sit down on the edge of an engawa. The samurais came back with towels and gave them to you.

You thanked them for their gesture. As you were drying yourself, you saw another person.

You looked and made eye contact with the strange man. He had a strange kimono with different coloring and patterns, strange makeup on his face, and his hair was unnatural. You could go on but decide not to.

The strange man approached you as you dried yourself. You come to find out he's a medicine seller, but never revealed his name.

While you both talked, something in you felt strange. A feeling you haven’t felt in many years. A feeling you feared.

Love.

The day was darkening, and the medicine seller left. The kind pink and green samurai guided you to a small room that you could stay in. You were grateful that you could sleep with protection.

You lay in your futon, but you couldn’t fall asleep peacefully. The fear of love is the nightmare you are having even though you are not asleep. 

What if you had once again sleepless nights and hatred of the mornings because of your curse?

You wonder if this curse will give you back your once-precious memories again. One is when you promise and vow to your lover that you will find them in the next life. 

But now that promise is long gone, you will never be able to accomplish it, nor promise it again to anyone.

The next day arrived eventually, and the medicine seller was once again there.

One look into his eyes, and you can tell what that look is. You’ve seen it before. 

Love.

You knew it was for the best if you both went your separate paths. That's why when he confessed to you after a few days, you rejected him. 

“I’m cursed with immortality. I walk into an endless abyss of darkness. It would be selfish of me to drag you along. While I do feel the same connection, I do not wish to feel suffering again.”

A pair of rough hands take yours.

“I am a kitsune, I have felt what you suffered. The sleepless nights, hatred of the mornings, and the endless cycle of a never-ending life. You no longer need to fear love. If you ever feel anxious in the endless cycle, I shall be there and soothe you.”

You looked into his eyes again. There was love and truth, but something familiar was there as well. 

“I never wanted to leave you, I was blessed by Inari to be a kitsune under her. I spent the centuries since my death to find you again, wondering countless nights and days without you beside me.” 

That's why the feeling of familiarity was there. He was your lover who died in front of you. The one you vowed to.

You immediately hugged him and accepted his confession. 

The sleepless nights and hatred of mornings had finally vanished, replaced with a warm embrace and happiness. 

Every time you woke up in your shared futon, you two would make eye contact and smile at each other.

~Lilly's

[ransprang]

Astarion x fem!reader (I feel you) - N/SFW

Cazador threw you before him, "why this one should do perfect." As your parents sold you off to the coven leader. Their debt was heavy and you could fulfill you duties of being a responsible child by being sold to Cazador. He walked around you inspecting you up and down. "Why this is a good human form, such a shame I wouldve loved to turn you into a spawn. But, somewhere in the middle should do." He strutted around you and cast a spell that had you tossing and turning on the floor withering in pain.

Astarion and his siblings stood around the hall, half interested, half scared of what was happening. As the spell cast was complete you laid there on the floor, eyes wide open. Cazador's laugh echoed through the walls, "human, immortal, can eat food, can drink blood, exceptional healing capabilities, my...new...slave!" he peaked his sharp teeth at the spawns before him.

"Stand up." You gritted your teeth at him, your rebellious nature had a habit of landing you into trouble. He got a bit irritated and pulled you up by your hair sending a jolt of pain. You closed your eyes, tears forming just hoping he would let go of your hair, "Let me go!" you screached. Cazador with an amused expression retorted "no one leaves me." He threw you onto the floor and set you on fire as you burnt before his eyes and screamed out in pain. Astarion and his siblings silently watching as Cazador laughed loudly. Once the fire was set out you instantly began healing, your dress burnt to char but still clung onto you.

Cazador walked upto Astarion "Shes yours. Kill her and you shall be punished. Bring her to me whenever I demand." Cazador waved him off with his hand as Astarion scampered towards you getting you up on your feet, you sobbed holding onto his arm, digging your nails into his arm "Let me go" you said angrily gritting your teeth, tears in your eyes. But the fire that was outside was now burning within you. Astarion gave you an angry look "Shut up before we all get fried again"

You kept trying to release yourself from his grip, as you reluctantly walked towards Astarion's place. He flung you onto the floor, "right where you belong." with an evil glint in his eye, you tried grabbing at his leg angrily but he swiftly moved away "Darling, calm down. This your life now, with me',

You retorted “I will never be like you, evil like Cazador”. Astarion rolled his eyes “I can only imagine being like Cazador but whatever you say”, he chuckled turning around “now what would you like to eat? Just so you know I’m off the menu”.

You stood up holding your head up high “nothing. I’ll rot, I’ll die”. Astarion smiled warily “oh how I wish it was so easy for us to just perish, that would be the simple way out. But seems so Cazador wants you healthy, maybe to cherish~ all that himself”, he said waving his hand outlining your body. You shot him a disgusting glint, as your eyes filled with tears and you marched to the next to room out of his sight, to sit alone in your presence.

2 days later you walk out, looking for Astarion. You wanted to speak to someone, see what was happening with Cazador, and maybe be free again. You couldn’t find him anywhere, you searched the place top down, and eventually heard knock, faint, low frequency but there was a sound. You walked in the directly and realised Cazador had locked him in a coffin in the basement . You instinctively began trying to get it open, but there was no point even trying Cazador would find out you had freed his spawn from his punishment and unleash his wrath. But, you couldn’t help it even if it was just to feed Astarion, this was too cruel.

You had to get him blood, you had to feed him. Unknowing of his animal diet you scurried to find the nearest knife. You cut yourself open, allowing your blood to drip into a cup you ran back as you lock picked his coffin. Astarion looked at you, pain in his eyes, hoping this meant his punishment was open. Before he could saying anything you said “here take the cup, drink it. I’ll have to lock you up again before he finds out." Astarions eyes widened, he quickly realised and reached out to take the cup back into darkness, as you shut the door locking him up again. The next day you came back at the same time with a fresh glass and repeated. This time as you closed the coffin you heard him say “was that a persons blood? Human blood?” You pursed your lips, yes, sorry I couldn’t kill like you do so I used my own. There was silence, as you walked away you heard “I’ve never had human blood. Thank you.” Your eyes widened at the realisation, Astarion who you thought to be as bad as Cazador was just a victim, he was in pain, longer than you had ever been, and he was all alone.

You came back close to the coffin placing one hand on the surface as if to feel him inside “I didn’t know, in sorry I said those words to you”, your heard him slightly chuckle “oh dear, please don’t pity me”. You smiled at how brave he had become, “I’m not pitying you, I’m simply returning your kindness, I’ll see you again tomorrow”. You walked away feeling a stir in your heart.

As you woke up the next morning you saw Dal at the doorstep, “master has called you”, fear took over your whole body, you had already begun suffering even though the torture hadn’t begun yet. You got up and followed Dal to Cazador's chambers where he stood ready with a whip and a brand. “Oh beautiful lady, welcome again, I knew you missed me”. Your eyes red with tears and pain as you pressed your lips together readying not to let out a single squeal to Cazador's lips. He tied you to the floor and began his cruel torture, “scream for me! Scream for me will you? My ears yearn for it”.

You had no idea how long he kept you there, but when he released you, your white gown now stained red, your wounds completely healed thought the sensation now quite gone yet. You walked slowly, dazed back as you suddenly realised Astarion was all alone, possibly hungry as you ran as fast as your feet could carry to his coffin. You didn’t have time to cut yourself, he was hungry for days. You opened Astarions coffin and as his hand reached out to grab a cup you held it and pushed yourself in closing the door behind. You stood there chest to chest in the darkness, as the side of your face touched his you breathed heavy from the adrenaline but time was less, Cazador could come by any moment.

“Bite me.” You said with conviction, Astarion could smell the blood on your gown, he knew you hadn’t had the best few days, neither did he. Instinctively, shocking himself he kept one hand on your lower back the other caressed your hair, softly as he held you from the back of your neck. He whispered “I’m sorry”, as he pierced your neck with his teeth and drank. You took a hitched breath as you felt a pain tingle through your body, you lurched forward deeper into his embrace as if for comfort but from the same man who was giving you the pain. Astarion held to your waist tighter, as he took his last few sips and released you.

You found balance again as you turned your head towards him in darkness “I have to go now, I promise I’ll bring you blood tomorrow again”. As you stepped out locking him again, you heard him “I’d rather you come here again, y/n it does get quite lonely you know”. A faint smile crawled upon your lips, as you ran out of the room.

You began returning to him everyday and letting him pierce your neck. Astarion felt drawn to you, he hadn’t felt such feelings ever since he was turned. It was a longing, even in the darkness of the coffin his heart would flutter waiting for that one moment of the day where he could feel your warm body against his.

Eventually when Cazador released Astarion from his punishment, he ran back to his living quarters to find you. You sat there staring out the window, lost within the deep twilight. When you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning around with a jolt, you saw him.

Astarion had a wet glint in his eye, but you could never be too sure if it was tears or just a sparkle. He quietly sat beside you, as you looked at his in wonder. Once fully aware you lunged into a hug into his arms as he tightly wrapped his around you. Staying in his embrace for a while, as twilight turned into deep blue. You both knew you had to look out for each other.

Astarion kissed your head as he your hands wandered his back through his shirt. He pulled you away from the embrace to look you in the eyes, but both your chests longed to close the gap between again. Astarion removed his shirt as you blushed, he looked at your red face “first time?” He smirked. You frowned, turning away didn’t say anything, you could hear a chuckle from Astarion, as you felt his icy cold touch running down the back, he slowly reached the rim of your dress unbuttoning the back. Your dress loosened causing you to quickly grab your chest to stop it from being exposed. Astarion hugged your bare back from behind, you could feel his chest breathing. He kissed the spot he had been feeding upon as he slowly ran his hands up your arms to your bare shoulders. You rolled your hand back, placing your head next to his. Astarion moved his hands to yours, firmly grasping them and making them let the dress fall loosely onto your lap. As he slowly held your breasts.

Astarion turned you to face him, your heart beating fast, wanting him to finally take you. He pushed you back onto the bad, climbing on top kissing you all the way from your belly, up to your neck, making his way to your lips. He explored every inch of your mouth, as you arched your back to be closer. Astarion removed his pants, as his cock spring out, tip pink, already sensitive, throbbing to be placed inside of you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, he positioned himself, as he said “don’t worry darling, I’ll take care of you, as you did for me.” You nodded your head trusting the process, you knew Astarion would be careful.

Astarion slowly pushed himself in, groaning with pleasure as your warm soft walls enveloped his tip, you rolled your eyes back in pleasure. He slowly began thrusting, pushing his shaft in. A little by little he was all the way in, he stayed like that to feel you. Astarion caressed your hair as he went in for a kiss, your toes curled as he began humping you. He was so gentle, you began to feel an unfamiliar feeling. A stir in your chest, as Astarion’s sweat beaded. You felt a warmth rise up, your vagina was about to explode. Astarion picked up your ecstasy and began pumping ever so fast, he was railing you. The back of the bed thudded against the wall as you moaned, loudly at your sweet release. Astarion animalisticly thrusted, gritting his teeth as he neared his orgasm, he could feel his entire groin go sensitive as he released his thick white liquid inside of you.

Astarion collapsed on top as you both panted, he turned to face you and gave you a kiss. As you wrapped your arms around the man laying on top of you, using one hand to play with his curls. You smiled to yourself as the room lit with the bright moonlight it was almost as if the sun had risen again, and Astarion was just basking in its light.

your prisoner,

admin sav

[yourlocaltreesimp]

I (beg) ask if you can write anything Fierce Deity related. I don't want anything else, just that you write for my boy. (Pls us FD simps are starving).

Ah believe me I know y’all are dehydrated beyond the word’s meaning. I know the struggle (I really do) So I hope I do your boy (man) ((celestial being?)) justice!

(fir post writing: wow this is a LOT of context y’all don’t want or need, but my hands hurt so… part 2?)

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Immortality is a lonely existence. There are few beings that obtain an average life expectancy to that of a god. There are even fewer again who have immortality. Proper immortality. Not the poor results of a fae deal or some curse to age and wither without death. No. Proper immortality, exempt of aging past maturity and death herself.

That made his current predicament worse. Much, much worse than being stuck in a wooden mask.

You see, Gods and the immortal beings alike are rather fickle beings. They do glorious things to entertain or punish the mortals to have their names etched into stone and uttered in myth through centuries. They only wish to exist in temples of incense and candlelight, where the people there would do anything for even the cast of an eye.

Fierce had always thought those gods were the worst. All temples would crack. All names would be forgotten. All clay tablets and pots would be broken, ironically even by their proclaimed heroes. But that’s getting ahead of us. He was worshipped only in the grounds he was made for. It didn’t matter the land, for blood soaks into soil the same no matter what. It didn’t matter the men, the corpses were plentiful and he hardly discriminates. It didn’t even matter who won, because there are no winners in war.

He was made to fight, and he was made to kill. And so he did. His name rang throughout time between soldiers and emperors alike. Both tried to gain his favour. Occasionally there would be a temple, occasionally there’d be some mortal claiming to bear his blood, occasionally he’d care.

Regardless, it all came to the same ending. The men would die, the temples would crack and his name would fade into obscurity again.

It was supposed to.

But it seemed the others didn’t like that he was beating them at a game he didn’t want to win.

‘Cruel’ they called him, ‘Violent’ ‘Inhumane’ ‘Rabid’ ‘Irate’ ‘Improper’

And so, they condemned him. And he was forever no more.

Eras passed.

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years… And truly, he was nothing.

Just as they promised.

Some relic like their old tales, except he could not crack and wither.

He was lonely, perhaps just as much as before in hindsight. The fickle attention he did have was only worth something if he willed it.

At some point, He was awoken again. There were hands on his cheeks, shaky and blood covered. And there was light. The person who had called upon his spirit was not in good shape, blood spilling from their weak body as they were chased by odd looking men. A pack of wolves set on a lamb.

He’d learn throughout the next few months of hiding you and sharing your consciousness that the people of your village had thought you to be a witch. As such, you were beaten and chased.

You were a doctor, you’d told him.

You’d just tried to cure someone.

And such began his problem.

He’d never saw the purpose of mortals. They were future bodies, to him. They’d live to die. Sure, it’s better than the alternative of there only being gods, but they never held much worth to him.

Not until you.

You are good. In every way the short comings of language can express you are good. You’d devoted your life to a thankless existence and the nature of living had caught up to you. Good things didn’t deserve that. Good people didn’t deserve to live the life you led.

He was not so cruel as to condemn you to that fate.

And so, he began to help. Once gaining a physical form, (through much trial and error) He’d do the work you couldn’t manage. Hunting, building, sewing, cooking, he’d do as much as possible. He knew what it was like to be turned back upon by everyone. But you wouldn’t be able to grow past that. Not in your short life.

He held you as you shuddered and cried. He tended to your wounds and sickness. He did and would do whatever it took to see you happy again.

He did not, however, see the consequences.

It took him far too long for his comfort to realise that you were not simply accompaniment. You consumed his waking thoughts and filled his dreams. He lived around you, your wants and your needs. He began to eat because it made you comfortable, He slept because you liked to be near him, He humanised himself because it made you happy.

He would’ve renounced his title as a god to make your life perfect, or as close to as it could be.

But He could not.

He could not simply marry you and go about your lives knowing you had one another. He could not have you to hold forever. He could not always love you in sickness and health no matter how much he tried. Because at the end of the day, it’s until death do you part.

Or… do you?

(part 2? perhaps? maybe? perchance?)

[dramaturgydrakes]

of things i have little power over

odysseus has been on ogygia for a long, long time. hermes pays a visit.

words : 1,111

content warnings : very vaguely implied sa, odysseus being sad

notes : im not going to torture myself w mega fancy talk this is epic fanfiction.. also im very nervous about posting this and am aware that its kinda overly self-indulgent and not like. character-accurate. but wtv great grandpa hermes

the soft pat of feet connecting with sand behind him is different than usual.

“i thought i told you i needed some space,” he says anyway. they’re the only two people on the island, after all.

“i’ll stop by in another five years, then.”

he tenses. has he started to hallucinate again? but, no—

hermes crosses his legs on the white beach, seating himself next to odysseus and casting his head in the same direction—out towards the endless sea.

odysseus’s mind has cast many illusions upon him in the past years. a god’s presence, however—it is undeniable. ultimate. every part of him resonates with certainty.

hermes is here.

he doesn’t know where the god is really looking. little wings cover the upper half of his face; an obstacle meaningless to a divine entity whose true form is boundless energy. the immortal says it’s for the aesthetic, whatever that means.

“i haven’t seen you in forever,” is all odysseus can bring himself to say.

hermes makes a sound without certain definition. “and i see you every day,” he responds. somewhere in his voice, odysseus hears a mournful pain that he could never imagine a deity suffering.

he doesn’t know how to process that. he traces a finger through the sand. “why are you here?” his brow pinches with an upwards glance. “a message?”

one of the wings beneath hermes’ ears flicks, and he hums. “someday,” he says. it’s hopeful, almost. “i’ll see to it. but for now,” and he turns his head so it’s certain his eyes are on odysseus, wings guarding them or not, the smile he’d been wearing now less strained, “can’t i just visit my favorite great-grandson?”

the sound odysseus lets out is something bitter and utterly wrecked. he hasn’t the mind to call it a laugh.

“time really is fickle to the gods if you’re only here now,” he sighs, placing his chin on crossed arms that he’s left draped over his knees. hermes’ smile drops an inch or so.

“i’m sorry,” the god, the immortal, the deity, the all-powerful, who need not have regrets, tells him. “it wasn’t lack of care that kept me away, i…” he shakes his head, expression grim. “it’s unfair to burden you with my excuses.”

odysseus doesn’t want them. hermes doesn’t give them.

“i wish i could take the suffering from you.” odysseus flinches, and the words are quickly rectified. “i mean that… i wish my words meant more to my father. that you weren’t trapped here, if any place at all. that he wasn’t so cruel and inconsiderate to—”

he cuts in like scissors snipping apart a string, hermes’ voice falling away in time with his rising. “to leave me with her.” just the thought has him blinking away stray tears, stomach rolling. “i know. you’re not cruel, hermes. you have more kindness than most gods i’ve had the time to meet.”

hermes is silent.

odysseus once thought that a god was either filled with rage, or their emotions simply remained imperceivable.

it’s just their way, he had told himself, under the cold eye of athena, who never took less than perfection in his every thought and every step.

it’s just their way, he had told himself, when zeus stared him down and expected him to either end the short life of an infant or allow for his life to crumble away.

it’s just their way, he had told himself, as great, mountainous boulders crushed eleven of his ships, while poseidon watched and waited for the perfect moment to end his life.

it’s just their way, he had told himself, when he was again faced by zeus, and had his hand forced in choosing who was to live and who was to die.

but hermes’ guilt—his sorrow, his grief for one of his family’s pain… it feels as though odysseus could take it into his hands and hold it; turn it over and examine every facet, every scratch, every bump and nook, like a jewel not wholly refined.

it’s overwhelming in ways he can’t comprehend, perhaps just for his mortality. and, yet, at the same time, there’s what he could believe to be relief swelling inside him, knowing that there is someone who cares.

the edge of a wing from hermes’ lower back brushes over odysseus’s shoulder, the offer of an embrace hovering in the quiet air.

he relaxes as much as he can, and lets himself be pulled in. it’s the strangest thing, being pressed to the side of an immortal whom he had believed held no real care for him, half-wrapped in fluffy white feathers.

it stretches on, the silence. he isn’t sure if time really passes, or if it’s just the feeling of eternity—but the sun is beginning to set, so he supposes that it must.

“of the things i have little power over,” hermes says as the water is painted red, soft and near inaudible, “i think this is the one that hurts me the most.”

he shifts, and odysseus moves with him.

“but i do have plenty of power over this.”

for the first time in years, odysseus is hugged and held in arms that do not make him ill.

he did not think the gods to be affectionate. not even hermes. and, yet… maybe his pain is enough to take what he didn’t think he could be given, without question, just this once.

he finds tears running down his face when they part, and hermes smiles in a nervous, apologetic sort of way, gently patting his head. “i may try,” he says, “but i’m not that good at this. gods… gods were never really built to be parents. or great-grandparents.” odysseus sees milky golden eyes peek out from under small wings, but they’re quickly hidden away again as the god sighs heavily. “there are no words to describe how sorry i am. perhaps because gods are not built for apologies either.”

while hermes’ laugh is dry, odysseus feels a smile tug his lips. it’s surreal, how this whole evening has so deeply subverted his perception of his divine ancestor.

a god cares about him. a god cares about him without expecting perfection in return. a god cares.

a hand grasps his shoulder. “if you call to me,” hermes tells him, “i’ll come. for any reason that you need me. i will suffer every ounce of my father’s wrath if it means you are not left alone here.”

the wings lift away, and though his eyes are nothing but pure golden-white, odysseus still searches them.

and he still finds sincerity.

so, he tries his best to smile, weak and wobbly as it is.

“thank you, hermes.”

[htelover24]

Curse Breaker pt 1

WARNINGS PLEASE READ: mentions of suicide body dysmorphia sh and depression

A/N: IM BACK and with a series. (Let me know what you think?? (This chapter is kinda a get to know yourself as a character I’m writing BUT billie does come in toward the end so give it a chance)

Reader is immortal and struggling to be completely blunt. Billie moves in next door. Can she help reader feel something again? Is it fate?

22 years and forever to go. You could call me Annie if I had the choice because then It’d be “A day away.” Not a day goes by without at least a desperate attempt. Not a minute passes without the thought ricocheting through my head. I still can’t quite get a grip on the mystery I call my life. Maybe I’m already dead. I like to think that way but I want nothing more than to believe it.

Truth be told I can’t fucking die, and trust me I’ve tried. Not a damn thing works. At least I can say all hope is dead kinda wish it was me though.

If you’re asking why I’d want to die at such a young age, ask that to 13 year old you on the bathroom floor with the blade in one hand and 11 pills in the other. I’m tired of that question my therapist asks it enough.

Speaking of therapy what’s the point. You’re talking to someone to help you, yet you’re $150 short once you leave. It’s really belittling to know you’re just their source of income isn’t it. It’s not even like you tell the truth first few sessions but they’re still getting paid to listen to your lies. Absolute bullshit.

My thoughts are track racing again challenger one being denial and the other being reality there’s no draw yet neither of them win but neither one excepting the loss thus a rematch. You’d think they’d give up right?…… Yeah me too.

Just as the 7th race finishes my alarm goes off if you were wondering denial won, he pushed reality down and stopped him out. What did you expect he can’t expect anything and definitely not defeat.

I look around my room adjusting my eyes to the familiar interior. I scoot out of bed, legs feeling flimsy from the lack of holding up my weight for 8 hours. I stutter over to my bathroom feeling incredibly sick from the failed attempt at poisoning myself overnight. I was hoping I’d die in my sleep, but like always I wake up with the unjust consequences of my actions.

I look in the mirror at my disarrayed reflection. I’ve got dried spit smudge at the side of my mouth, eye crush built up along my tear ducts, and hair disheveled knots engulfing my hair tie making it almost invisible.

A heavy sigh slips passed my lips as I turn on the water to my shower. Stepping in feeling the warmth of the water trickling down my skin reminding me of the same sensation of my blanket, just missing the gentle mattress. I put the stopper in the drain and watched as the water rouse filling my tub.

Attempt one.

I lay down flat on my back and let out all the air from my lungs before dunking my head completely submerging myself in the water.

My body doesn’t panic and my mind is loaded with the absence of thought. When my chest feels like it’s been pinched, picked at, compressed, and dismantled I inhale the water around me. My eyes widened at the familiar feeling of guilt and agonizing thick blurred pain in my lungs. I can clearly make out the shape of my lungs as they feel the heaviest in my body. I feel them rest on my vertebrae as my heart loses its steady tempo, both quickening and slowing. My skin feels like it’s being bitten all over and injected with venom. My eyes go droopy and my body begins to sink onto the marble shell of my tub. My heart completely stops but my brain still very conscious.

I’d failed again.

After a few hours I finally gain feeling back in my body. I sit up very slowly looking down at my flory reflection in the water.

How come it never works out. Whether it’s my life or my failed attempts to get rid of it. It all goes to shit. It sucks because apparently life is precious but at what cost does it keep its value. Does my mental health have to deplete for me to still be of worth to anyone? Do I have to suffer to uplift the value of others? It’s unfair. It’s either the world is fucked up or…….. it’s me. I know if I dwell on it too much I’ll drown again just in the counter narrative of my mind. “Whatever”… Is the only thing I can say to keep myself from breaking.

I unclog the drain watching the water spiral down reminding me a lot of myself. I stand up a bit unsteady from well you know….. drowning, and turn my shower head back on. I grab my soap and froth up my sponge.

I bring my sponge to the skin of my arm smoothly lathering myself in a layer of soap. Before I know it I’m completely covered…. So why do I still feel so gross.

I look down at my body seeing every out of place lump, dip, and curve. They begin at my shoulders and the whole length down to my feet. I scrub at the skin of my arm harshly practically scraping at it hoping to get rid of these imperfections. My hands race down to my stomach and I snatch pinch and scrub I scrub until I’m red and bleeding. I can’t stop my hands from traveling all over my body working to destroy what I see as an enemy.

My body feels like it’s been raked before I finally put my sponge down….. At least I’m clean right?

I step out the shower not bothering with drying off I look in my foggy mirror not being able to make out my features, but from what I can see I look like a silhouette of pink and red splotches. Darker in the area I’m most disgusted with.

I walk over to my closet and pick an outfit to lounge in and won’t be uncomfortable after a few more attempts at taking my life. I put my hair in a messy bun with a few strands that didn’t quite make it in leaking out the hair tie.

I walk over to my nightstand and pick up the bottle of Ondansetron and down 16 of them.

Attempt 2

After a few hours I feel the overdosage take over. My face feels like it’s being rearranged, as well as my organs. I get up to go drink some water before I-

DING DONG.

I haven’t had a visitor at my door in weeks who could possibly be at my house, and at such a bad time. I walk over to the door looking through the peep hole. I see the most magnificent blonde woman at my door holding what looks to be a pumpkin pie with a bizarre purple color to it, though that can always just be the overdose defects.

I open the door and she smiles.

“Hey I’m billie the new neighbor thought I’d introduce myself instead of just being a stranger you know?”

Her smile begins to drop along with my body to the floor.

No fucking way I just died in front of her. The hottest woman to ever interact with me just saw me die. This is so fucked.

“Holy Shit.” Is the last thing I hear before going unconscious.

[teecupangel]

Inspired by the Patron Desmond sends his ancestors to earlier points in time and fucks over half a dozen timelines: Desmond wishes all his ancestors had someone to support them through their worst suffering without - you know, getting betrayed by them or watching them die.

So Bayek wakes up in the prime of his life in Altair's time and adopts this child who just watched his father die. When Altair dies, he and Bayek suddenly appear, both in the primes of their lives, in time to see the Auditore get arrested. Bayek, Altair, and Ezio are there when Edward's protecting the Assassins of Tulum and take the piss out of him. The crew plus Edward are there when Ratonhnhake:ton's village burns. They all sail to France on a whim and end up recruiting Arno. All of them appear in London to help out the Frye twins. And when Desmond gets kidnapped... the Assassins have an entire historical legion show up out of nowhere to help bust him out of Abstergo's clutches.

Kassandra keeps showing up, nobody's certain if she's with them all or not, but just... all of the main ancestors glomming together as one hugely dysfunctional murder family forged across time and space who all have the biggest soft spot for Desmond.

Desmond as their Patron has no power over this. This is happening solely based on his wish and he has no control who gets transported and gifted with immortality so even he does not know if Kassandra is also part of his immortality gang.

It’s Bayek who believes Desmond is a god and their patron, giving them this power to protect the world. Of course, there are times when he misses Aya and he wonders if this immortality is a curse. But then he hears the laughter of Darim and Sef before they run after him, grabbing his robes and asking him to tell them another story, grandfather tells the best stories! And Bayek’s lips curved into a smile. Perhaps the immortality is a curse but seeing the people he cares for and loves grow up and take the future for themselves will always be a joy that makes this curse worth it.

Altaïr would be the one to try and understand this immortality that they had. Would be the one to realize that they do die after their life runs its course but they will always be awaken in the same place together, back in their prime, with the memories up to their death. His first business would be to find his Apple and, after the long road he had to take to find the seals to open his library, he decided to set it up so that the next time he needed to find his Apple, it would be in the most convoluted way possible that only he would understand. It’s because of the Apple that they got to Firenze just as the Auditores were being arrested (they saved the day but it was a close call). Then Ezio’s Apple was placed on the vault and Altaïr felt a bit annoyed of how easy his Apple was secured so… he just plopped the Apple there as well.

It is Ezio who first thought of naming the glowing god that appears before them before they are resurrected once more Desmond. There’s something about the god with no discernible features other that his entire body glowing that made Ezio think of Desmond for some reason. Altaïr is the one who tries to search for this Desmond using both his and Ezio’s Apples.

Edward was the one man out. He wasn’t an Assassin yet but he had the makings of one. So they trained him. Bayek had done this three times already, he knows Edward Kenway is the key. Perhaps the next brother that will be given the curse of immortality. They stayed with him until he started to settle down in London, focusing on his family. They visited from time to time but they were not there to save Edward.

When they are resurrected once more, decades have passed and they could only try and save as many people as they could as the fires had already started. Including the mother of a young child by the name of Ratonhnhaké:ton. They stayed in the village for a few days, with the boy’s mother talking to Edward Kenway for a long time, ending with Edward learning of his son’s fate. So they leave the village to find him, to confront him. When Ratonhnhaké:ton was 13, he followed his mother out of the village and they meet once more. Haytham remains elusive and they suggested that they stay with the mother and son for a bit to ‘relax’, only for this to end with them teaching Ratonhnhaké:ton (and sometimes even giving tips to Kaniehtí:io.

And after everything was done, they sailed to France to support Ratonhnhaké:ton who received a letter requesting for aid from Lafayette. There, they met Arno Dorian and took him under their wings, helping him with his missions but only three of them at a time, for they have their own agenda for going to France. (And if this ends with Altaïr taking a Sword of Eden, well… that’s not really surprising).

Helping out the Frye twins had been second nature. Arno and Jacob met by accident when Arno had been buying one of the pubs in London (a financial focused habit he and Ezio had developed through the years) and Bayek thought they needed support (and guidance, so much guidance). By the end of it, they were sure that the twins would become like them as well. (And if this ends with Altaïr taking the Shroud of Eden… at this point, everyone already expects him to take custody over POEs)

It all ends with them moving into the modern day where they used their knowledge and experience to have a partnership with a group called Erudito. From there, it became easier to find the Assassins but their focus shifted when they heard of Desmond Miles.

And Ezio just knows… that this was the Desmond they were all searching for.

[roznnreads]

Chosen not Fated Chapter 1

Eris x Fem!Reader

Tags: marriage of convenience, rhysand slander, depression, suicidal ideation

Summary: Tired of a life in the shadow among the inner circle, Rhysand’s younger sister decides to take her life into her own hands and makes a desperate grab for power.

Chapter Summary: After the battle is won the depression hits

a/n: writing this instead of uni coursework

last part, next part

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

The Inner Circle keeps to themselves. They are a reclusive group that rarely allows new people into their lives, let alone into their hearts. 

But even within the Inner Circle I felt separate, They found companionship with each other. My Brother, Azriel, Cassian and Amern, They could rely on each other,  yet here I am sitting at the dinner table in silence eating my food, surrounded by the loud illyrians. My mate, although brought into the circle through me, was suited to them better than I ever was. 

The war was won, the humans were pushed back to their land and a barrier was created, keeping the faerie and human races separate forever. Treaties forged and signed, a promise for peace that should last centuries

I should be celebrating, I should be happy. I am empty. My soul has been torn in two. We were to be married after the War was won, we were waiting for peace, for a chance to breathe, to make our love a celebration of being alive, of seeing another day. If he was here I would have someone to talk to at dinner, to make it seem like I am just like them.

“Do you think the treaty will last?” said Amren piercing through the noise

“I hope so, If anything it will last through many human lives so they won’t have the same knowledge as they do now, for us anything is possible.” replied Rhysand

“So we are never going to be done with war,” I say quietly, my throat hurts from the crying. 

“We are immortal, war comes with the the price of life”, Rhys sighed “I can’t know what you are going through, but I am truly sorry, but there is nothing that can be done”

My chair scraped against the floor, I stood abruptly.

“Excuse me”, I state, leaving the dinner hall. I walk slowly out of the room with careful consideration, once out of sight of the circle I run down the hall, to my chambers.

The large room full of ornate furniture and sweeping bookshelves was situated high above the city of Velaris, a darling view. All I can see is memories of my love, from the books he had gifted me, to his side of the bed that was left unmade. 

I can’t bare to sleep in the bed without him, to smell him and know that he will never lie his head on the pillow and hold me as I fall asleep. 

I wish I could fly, to gasp the cool fresh air, to feel nothing around me. To get away from it all.I walk towards the balcony’s edge grasping the fence. If I jumped from the balcony right now I would not feel the air pick me up, only the hard ground would find me. Maybe that would be the better outcome, to join him.

No. 

If I am to join him it shall be by another's hand, just like he was. In battle would be nice, then for certain I could be with him in whatever afterlife awaits us, me. 

Perhaps we don’t have an afterlife, what would be another eternity, would it be like our lives now, maybe this is the afterlife, where one lives forever and to die in battle grants you a new one. 

I lie in our… my bed. I clutch the bedsheets that would hold him, they’ve gone cold from disuse. I can’t cry, I have no more tears left in me. 

I need a purpose, I need something to spend my days, a distraction. It would feel wrong to find a lover to occupy my days, knowing my one love is gone. Maybe a friend perhaps, to share thoughts and opinions, to visit - on occasion.

A friend. I need someone not of this court. Someone who cannot be bought out or manipulated by the circle, someone who could not be persuaded to report back to Rhysand about our dalliances, someone powerful. 

[zalia]

Another kiss meme req on behalf of my husband - #3 a kiss goodbye for Colonel from Cayde please

"We've been through a lot together, you and me," Cayde says. "The Red War... I remember the Farm. When spirits were low, there you were, always ready to offer some comfort. When things got bleak... you were just fearless. Ready to get on with life. Absolute inspiration." He sighs, thinking back to those days. The Vanguard, all of them, hiding out in the EDZ. They'd been lost without the Light. It really put things in perspective, realising that this must be how the Lightless must feel all the time – helpless, mortal... and still fighting despite it. Going from near-immortal with what amounts to magic powers, to realising that if you die this time... that's it. Game over. Gone bust. Well, at least he's had practice with it this time. He ain't planning on finding out what happens if he dies again. No Sundance to bring him back. Maybe he'll just dissolve into the ambient Light of the pale heart. Maybe he'll be reunited with his girl. Maybe he'll just end up screaming along with the Traveller as the Witness tears it apart. Maybe nothing will happen at all. He turns his attention back to the matter at hand. "And when we retook the City... you were so brave. You didn't have to fight with us. Could have stayed safe at the Farm. But there you were right next to us. I'll never forget it." Adrenaline driving out fear, pushing his body to limits that he hadn't realised existed. And that final glorious rush of Light, like the first breath after resurrection... Is it selfish to be glad it returned when so many people had died? Good people... people who only ever had one life and wouldn't get another chance. Guardians who didn't live long enough to see it return. "I was selfish, I think, when I went to the Prison," he admits, hoping for understanding. "Being cooped up for years wasn't an excuse. Andal would... Andal would get it. And then tear me to shreds for being a dumbass and throwing my life away." Andal had always dealt with things better than he had. Cayde almost wishes he was here now. He doesn't – no-one should be here facing what they are. The end of... of everything... "I don't know what's gonna happen. Big fight coming up. Higher stakes than anything we've faced. No pressure or anything," he adds. "I don't know how its gonna pan out. If we lose... we lose everything, and if we win... I don't know. I don't know if I'll be coming back either way. But I wanted to make sure I didn't make the same mistake this time." He's not gonna bank on surviving and leave without saying anything. Not this time. "So that's why I'm here." The chicken in his lap clucks in confusion. He isn't actually sure if chickens can sound anything but confused honestly. He leans down to kiss the top of the Colonel's feathery head. "You be good for Saint, okay? Keep the New Lights in line. Ikora and Zavala are gonna be counting on you." The Colonel ruffles her feathers and snuggles down in his lap more comfortably and then... yep, she's fallen asleep. "Y'know, you're gonna make me late. I don't think I'm allowed to be late to the potential end of... everything." The Colonel, being a chicken with little concept of existence, let alone the end of it, makes a peeping noise as she sleeps, and otherwise does not respond.

[yowyowyaoi]

Hidan's Daily Texts from the Akatsuki, Part Two

From Konan

Why would it gross you out? You basically deal with blood for a living!

Flattery might get you a hug but it won't get you out of your share of the food bill.

In all seriousness that's ridiculous.

Just pretend he’s Kakuzu. Problem solved.

You guys need to keep it down. I need my beauty sleep!

Sasori has a variety of things he could give you to ease the pain. But be warned he’ll likely give you a three hour lecture on “proper dental hygiene”.

I'm sure he just meant it as a joke. No need to eviscerate him.

I need that like I need a hole in my head.

Love is not about looks, it's about feelings and personality. He's the kindest, most gentle man I've ever known in my life.

If you're that curious, just transform into one and feel them yourself!

He doesn't take betrayal very well. I'd strongly reconsider if I were you.

Being immortal is a hell of a thing to have in common, isn't it?

I wish you and Dei would leave him be. Just because he *chooses* not to fight back doesn't mean he can't, or won't at some point. And I think that will be a scary day for the two of you.

Ladies don't curse but if you heard even half of what I was thinking it'd blow your mind, Hidan.

From Itachi

Looks mean very little to me.

If you're that interested in seeing them, then just ask him to pull down his pants for you the next time you see him. See what he says.

A compliment coming from you sounds very, very odd.

I would not just leave something like that to chance and never, ever to the two of you.

We're close. That's all you need to know.

I'll admit, the honey and ants in my bed was a clever, if sadistic, touch.

You've got ten minutes to return it to my door or I promise your eternity will be one long inescapable nightmare.

No.

The last time I went with you guys you ate $1000 worth of food and then tried to stick me with the bill!

If you'd just admit it I'd be willing to go easy on you.

Of course he's an attractive man but I couldn't deal with that personality on a daily basis.

In that way I'm better than you, aren't I? You clearly fear death. I don't.

If my opinion counts for anything: hold on to Kakuzu. I don't believe there's a single other soul in this universe that would care for you the way he does.

I suppose not all the time. He does brush my hair out for me a lot. Very gentle.

From Tobi

If it isn't something that could work, why would it be the plot to SO MANY homoerotic stories??

You left it sitting there for three days! If I didn't eat it, it would have spoiled!

Just woke up not in the mood for your shit rn

If he thinks you're like a brother than one day me and you can be in-laws!

You didn't even spell "delusional" right.

Are you the one who left the jar of crickets on my bed?

Actually your hair would probably look good longer.

You're not going to lecture ME on something like that!

I think of him like a little cousin. So STOP messing with him!

If you think Kakuzu looks "sexy" without his mask you couldn't handle ME, man.

Come with us, the water should be fine by now.

The Hidden Leaf? Nope. Never heard of it.

Sharingan?? LOL

Be warned, Hidan. I'm not as stupid as you think I am.

Do YOU want to see my FIST? Okay then.

So is "Jashin" just looking the other way while you love Kakuzu, then?

From Nagato

I think of you all as my children. Some more problematic than others.

Yes it works! And even if it didn't, she wouldn't leave me!

I almost teamed you up with Deidara but I don't think I could have afforded that sort of damage.

Ultimately that would be Kakuzu's decision.

Tell your God to meet up with me and we'll see who's more "real", brat.

What. Did. You. DO?!

If I hear that you "accidentally" walked in while she was changing again, you'll wish to the heavens that you WERE able to die.

Yes but a mostly vegetarian diet is easier for my body to handle.

I did not form these teams with the intention of being a matchmaker.

I wish you would put as much effort and planning into your missions as you do to harassing your fellow Akatsuki teammates.

From Deidara

Yes I blew him up but I didn't rob him. Standards, man.

Me and Kisame going fishing, you in?

Come see me we gotta get our stories straight before Leader questions us.

He stepped on a beehive. Spent all day pulling stingers from his arms and legs. STILL wouldn't take off his mask.

I knoooooow. God you sound like Sasori.

I did but I don't think they can prove that it was me ...

You can't just sculp some little mouse and then call yourself an artist! It doesn't work like that!

I think the chicken was bad I can't stop puking and my ass is literally on fire!

If you won't listen to me talk about my REAL art, what makes you think I'm gonna listen to you talk about your FAKE God??

Me and you and Itachi. Yes he'll go if we drag him out.

Yeah but she's sooooooo pretty how can I help it?!

Why are you bragging? That just means you'll be old and ugly before me!

Honestly I just bring him a body and some tools and he stays distracted for like a week. Lets me do whatever without even questioning it lmao

He likes to carry me. Don't ask questions, I just enjoy not having to walk for a few hours.

I really, REALLY don't need to know what "gets you off". Pervert.

From Kisame

I have no idea how to answer something like that.

I don't know what's going on with you and Kakuzu but please stop "accidentally" sending me pics like that or I'm blocking you.

I'd die for him but all I really want is for him to live for me.

I think we're the only two who like it ultra-rare and dripping blood. Well, maybe Zetsu.

Yeah I have my suspicions as well but it's like that thing is glued to his face or something. Deidara is the only one who could get close enough to him to try it but he seems scared for some reason.

You can join us but no screaming in the water this time or you'll scare them all off.

I've got at least 11 years up on you so yes, you ARE a brat to me.

I don't think there are any decent shortcuts, we just have to walk straight through. Ask Kakuzu to lend you his tall boots.

There's doing our job and then there's crossing the line. Guess which one you did.

Yes it's warm but that doesn't mean we wish to see you sitting out there in the nude.

Itachi's not feeling well so I need a replacement weight for my other arm. Deidara is already helping, now I need you too.

In the old days they used leeches as a cure for everything. A few aren't gonna kill ya, kid. Don't be a baby.

He's literally perfect. And he's MINE. So onsen or not the next time I catch you looking like that I'll snatch your eyes out and eat them like grapes :)

From Sasori

Come see me before the infection spreads.

Mint, rosemary, and a tiny bit of thyme.

Unless you’re looking to get bent over, brat, how it works is none of your goddamned business.

You would likely be a terrible one.

No, he’s it for me. I’ll either marry him or kill him, haven’t decided yet.

I can imitate eating to fool enemies but the food will just stay in my throat until I manually remove it.

You kill humans nearly every day, you can handle a spider.

It would break my metaphorical heart.

I’m not “betting” you anything. I KNOW it won’t kill you. But the poison is both expensive and time-consuming to make and I’m not wasting it on you.

18 and 34.

Leave the ones that I’ve marked alone. They’re perfect specimens and I won’t have you ruin them with that heathen ritual of yours.

Yes but I’m slowly coming to accept that sexuality is a spectrum and nothing is black or white.

You and Tobi will be coming with. Pack extra food and warm clothes. No whining that you’re hungry or cold later on.

It won’t be as amusing when I nail your skull to the wall.

From Zetsu

He tasted so good. My many thanks.

I haven’t any idea why the others seem so perturbed by it, considering their *own* “atrocities".

Too loud. Sensitive ears.

Aren't you having relations with him? Surely you could convince him.

Unfortunately we need them alive and well, so please, none of your antics.

Couldn't hurt. But I doubt it would help, either.

Out of everyone here, you and your blood-scented skin smell the best.

I'm beginning to think your obsession with penises is more than a passing curiosity and an indication for serious concern.

Deidara is correct, everything is ephemeral. This world is temporary.

I wouldn't know the first thing about manipulating anyone. I'm just a plant.

From Kakuzu

Try me and see. I DARE you, brat.

Either help me or stay home and shut up about it.

You stimulate me, but not in all good ways.

If I wasn't "obsessed with money" this entire organization would be nothing, we'd be homeless and everyone would be starving.

Just wait until I get you alone.

Next time I suggest you think before you act.

Deidara will face Sasori but YOU will have to deal with ME. Consider that.

It's your turn to pay for dinner. I could go for either seafood or steak.

Call it gay if you wish but you won't change my mind.

I'm not sure if your body could handle multiple hearts, immortal or not.

Endurance training. My room. Ten minutes. Hydrate yourself beforehand.

You're going to eat something green if I have to pry open your mouth and shove it down your throat.

Because I CARE, asshole.

Why should I have to fight them off because you can't keep your hands to yourself??

I happen to like Itachi so watch your manners, if any exist.

Can't "believe" in someone I've never met. Which is why I don't understand why YOU do.

If I ever went, I'm taking you out with me. "'Til death" is inaccurate.

Sure, sure. While you're at it pray for money to drop out of the sky and into my lap.

Handcuffs aren't doing it for me anymore. Bring some rope and maybe some honey this time.

Get back here and clean this shit up before I come kill you.

Love you. <3. Delete this text immediately.

[saiintofawe]

after reading the sun and the star my semi-dormant pjo obsession has risen and is infesting my brain side by side with bsd. so.

bsd percy jackson au: a series of self indulgent hcs

skk is the percabeth of the situation. iconic duo. unstoppable. EVERYBODY has heard about them. literal legends among the demigods baby

dazai is a child of athena, chuuya a child of ares

dazai's team beat chuuya's during capture the flag once and chuuya went aight bet. and kicked dazai's ass during the next capture the flag. his team still lost but at least he got an excuse to fight that annoying know-it-all bandaged and beautiful son of athena

the rest is history

the akutagawa sibilings are children of hades. goth mfs

now imagine them having the same storyline as the di angelo sibilings... now in this au you can see why akutagawa talks like he belongs to another age

gin would consider joining the hunters of artemis, but in the end they end up refusing to not leave their brother alone. plus, being immortal would mean seeing him and all of their loved ones die, and gin has had enough of her loved ones dying

if skk is percabeth, shinskk is solangelo

does atsushi fit the standards for a child of apollo? idk but i can't think of another godly parent for him so be it!

unlike will solace, healing is not atsushi's strongest task but he still spends a lot of time helping in the infirmary

and that's where he meets ryūnosuke

unlike solangelo the initial hostility is NOT one sided. ryū behaves like a bitch? atsushi gets bitchy right back.

cue to atsushi looking extremely pissed while bandaging ryū's arm and them muttering insults at each other

ryūnosuke swears he hates that fucking failed doctor and atsushi would almost believe him if it wasn't for the amount of times ryūnosuke has tried sacrificing himself to save him during their quests

also in this au rashomon is a hellhound like mrs. o'learly. she's a sweet doggo that devours space and souls

or she's one of ryū's cocoa puffs? (does this count as a tsats spoiler taken out of context?)

you know that one scene in tsats where nico kisses the back of will's neck and says "i'm proud of you"? now picture that as atsushi to ryūnosuke. yeah.

also atsushi has plague powers bc i say so

yosano is the real will here: overworked healers who feel extremely guilty for every patient that died under their watch to the point of considering themselves murderers

she runs that infirmary like it's the navy

she's also a hell of a fighter, both with bows and arrows and with her own fists

bff with ranpo, who's the oracle!

they gossip abt apollo (boyfail) and complain abt their respective fundamental but hella hard roles at chb

also besties w/ chuuya

also hear me out on kousano in this au... yosano falls helplessly in love with hunter of artemis!kouyou. kouyou tries to convince herself that she's not falling for that bossy and selfless and brave doctor because she has an oath to keep and she couldn't let love knock at her door again. so everytime the hunters come to chb kouyou keeps yosano company and it's all longing looks and painful yearning. yosano wishes she could convince the redhead to break the oath and stay.

but she won't. i <3 kousano angst

moving onto happier lesbians. gin loves wandering by themselves in the forest or by the lake. people know them as the demigod who just fucks off to take a stroll in the woods and disappear there for an indefinite amount of time

and that's how she meets an awkward, stubborn but lovely dryad: you guessed it, it's higuchi!

gin was having a bad day and kicked a tree because they were just so angry— anger turned to guilt when the tree fucking yelped

gin immediately apologized and higuchi asked them what was bothering them. gin never loved to talk, so they were very surprised by themselves when they started rambling about their problems to a dryad they just accidentally hurt

from that day gin began spending even more time in the forest

sometimes they bring higuchi to camp

it isn't unusual for dryads to wander around camp, but higuchi usually kept on her own before meeting gin

higuchi helps gin to open up about their emotions and lower their walls, gin helps higuchi to make friends and to value and love herself

chuuya's fatal flaw is loyalty, dazai's is pride, ryūnosuke's is holding grudges, atushi's is holding too tight onto the past, gin's is also loyalty, yosano's is guilt

tachihara is a child of hermes. parallels between two regretful traitors el oh el

except that luke fucking sucks while tachihara has my heart

OKAY NOW OPEN YOUR EARS. STORMBRINGER ENJOYERS RISE. RIMLAINE AS SILENA AND CLARISSE..... CAN YOU SEE WHAT IS SEE........

lucy is deffff a child of aphrodite but she's so lovely she doesn't even need to use charmspeak to get what she wants. whatever you say beloved princess

idk why but i can picture her throwing an hairbrush at an ancient titant like rachel... her and rachel are acc pretty similiar imo but i will not elaborate

poe is an athena kid! the biggest loser in cabin 6!

lucy and yosano tease him on his crush on ranpo

ranpo is there like damn. is this guy gonna confess or do i have to tell him we are going to date via prophecy

poe is a surprisingly good archer, the apollo kids are almost jealous

nikolai is an hecate kid. a little trickster. a silly magician. he will steal your nose but like in the literal sense and he might not give it back

his best friend is sigma from the aphrodite cabin. sigma cannot fucking stand him

nikolai is actually the reason why sigma has split colored hair. it used to be fully white but one day nikolai went heyyy girlie look at this new hair trick my sibiling taught me :] and sigma ended up actually loving the look? so they kept it

the dryads love sigma and he spends a lot of time with them. they braid flowers in each other's hair and chill

nikolai on the other hand somehow befriended the arpies

fyodor is a child of nemesis. edgelord

jouno is a child of hermes, the eldest in the cabin

half of the camp wants him, the other half wants him gone

teruko is a child of hebe, the goddess of youth!!!!

she's ones of the oldest campers along with jouno, but she prefers to keep her child form for unknown reasons

also i can see her joining the hunters tbh

that's it for now folks i hope someone appreciates my brainrot xoxo

[quitealotofsodapop]

Wouldn't it be hilarious if stone monkeys actually can give birth or lay stone eggs naturally? Like... if they have a partner it'll be a regular old birth the same as how MK and the twins came into the world... but say a stone monkey didn't have a partner. Stone Monkey are a rare and critically endangered species afterall (even if they don't have the protections of an endangered species).

So what if, as a biological advantage, a stone monkey actually can lay a stone egg and give birth to a little baby stone monkey the same way as how Wukong and Macaque were born. But it's risky since creating life without a partner is beyond dangerous and most don't survive to even see the egg hatch, so most can only have one at a time and have to REALLY want a kid since, well, they'd basically be trading their life for the kids'. A kid that probably wouldn't even be hatched until long after their parent is dead.

I think with Wukong, it'd be a bit different because, well, 7 times over immortal monkey. But he'd still experience the negative effects and basically be completely vulnerable for a long time afterwards if he ever did it.

Just a little headcanon I thought up that I thought you'd be interested in.

Oh like parthenogenesis! Like some reptiles do when theres no available mates. I figure in a similar sense, the baby Stone Monkey would be a near-genetic clone of the parent; with the environment the "womb" is in adding life energy/qi/dao and affecting the appearance/abilities of the developing monkey within. Wukong likely popped out the way he did cus his egg was at the top of a mountain - his egg absorbing the violent life energy of what was once an active volcano over thousands of years.

Considering a certain few lines in Jttw, it's suggested that Wukong and Macaque are the last of their kind (with Six Eared being a variant/subspecies) - or they're just the only ones in that hemisphere. Like ancient human relatives the great Stone Monkeys became lost to time or were drowned in the Great Flood, or in the case of the Gibbon and Baboon; left Earth entirely.

The idea of a Stone Monkey deciding one day "I want a baby" and their body taking from there if there wasn't a viable mating option is really interesting. Their body's becoming like golems, weathered down into boulders if damage comes to them. And also very sad cus they know that theres a really good chance that they will never meet their baby. :(

Though imagine what the potiential "trigger" for it could be...

Guanyin: "The Monkey King is currently held beneath the Five Point Mountain. It will act as his prison for the next five centuries." Gold Star: "Ah. Make sure he's watered frequently and has plenty of oxygen." Guanyin: "But of course, it is only humane. However, doesn't he possess many forms of immortality?" Gold Star: *is so old that he witnessed the first Stone Monkeys, some even developing on his planet* Gold Star: "Not unless you want him to make another of himself." Guanyin: "Pardon?" Gold Star: "In my observations; when a Stone Monkey without a mate wished to reproduce, they would bury themselves and abstain from all biological needs until their bodies returned to the stone from whence they came. A new stone egg formed within their body as if it were a womb. The process is very taxing, and many died if another was not present to "wake" them afterwards. Though even in the case of parental death; the egg within the body would live on to hatch forth an infant to be raised by the familial troop." Guanyin, panicking: "I... I will be back in a moment." Wukong, beneath the mountain: "...why am I thinking about having kids?" Guanyin: *busts in holding molten copper and iron cus it was the only thing next to her at the time*

Of course it is unlikely for Wukong to actually *die* if his body decided to Copy/Paste him into an egg. But the possible way it could occur to him accidentally in any universe would be scary.

Like say... being trapped in a (newly) air-tightened Furnace by spiteful past enemy...

Lets just say I thought of another way that Luzhen is created >:)

Macaque: *pops open the lid to the airless Furnace* "Oh thank Buddha! You're intact. Drink some water dummy." Wukong, "awakened" by the fresh air and water: "...I think I'm pregnant." Macaque: "Uh... congrats?" Wukong: "No, like. Being cooked in there with no air made me pregnant." Macaque, only vaguely familar with their species: "...we should really ask Gold Star about this."

Luzhen in the TMKATI au would be celebrated as an adored, if not odd, new member to the family. His egg pops out after a long time of just sitting in SWK's body like his swallowed a rock. Luzhen "hatched" in a way that triggered something akin to labor. After all, Wukong's egg split open his Rock-mother (possibly the body of his parent) when it was his time to hatch. Wukong decides it is the worst pain he's ever felt in all his immortal life. Luzhen blinks slowly when his shell finally cracked all the way, confused on where he was.

The bit of dao Luzhen absorbed from his enviroment allowed him to develop just a tiny difference to his father; a pair of moon-silver eyes. Macaque smugly declares Luzhen's beautiful eyes are clearly a trait he inherited from him - and likely *did* depending on if any part of Macaque ended up in the Furnace with Wukong too. Like lets say the bones from an arm grapsing deperately before the lid of the Furnace slammed shut...

Hilariously, if Sun Wukong couldn't breath and/or wasn't able to crawl towards the Wind Trigram his first time cooking in the Furnace; there was a good chance that Lao Tzu would have opened the Furnance to a statue-like Monkey King with an egg inside of it. Wukong finally reawakening 500 years later with a heavy stomach and *many* questions.