#deathless au

[rust-bearer]

Deathless AU mirrors the Sparkeater AU in that “the person you love isn’t what they seem fundamentally, but in reality they are still the same”

But deathless au focuses specifically on the hopelessness. Sparkeater is perseverance, in the end, but being unable to die? And every attempt to save someone proves almost ultimately fruitless? To be doomed to die quietly and alone on loop, always alone.

[flecks-of-stardust]

Alright. I think I should come clean a little bit about my plans now that ToMG is officially a thing. I mentioned a few things in its intro post, and I’m going to clarify them here. Very briefly, yes, Deathless is a project that has been on my mind for a while, but I actually wasn’t planning on announcing it until way, way later. I sorta forced my own hand on this lol.

TL;DR, Dreamless has a sister AU now, Deathless. Both Dreamless and Deathless are set in the same broader universe, which includes many kingdoms that have nothing to do with the setting of either AU, and the two AUs are collectively called the Godslayers universe. Dreamless is a Hollow Knight AU, while Deathless is a Bug Fables AU. I’m currently writing Dreamless, and there is no content for Deathless except what little I’ve hinted at so far.

The longer version is that Deathless was... never supposed to exist, admittedly. I was fully set on working on Dreamless and Dreamless only. I have a lot of ideas for this story; the main fic itself is set to have a minimum of 30 chapters currently, probably more, and there are also novellas after the main fic that will be posted in sequence, as well as a few non-novella length stories that I also want to write. All in all it will probably be 60+ chapters of content once I’m done, and my chapters are on average 3k to 4k words. Winter break has been a massively productive time for me and I’m excited to work more consistently on Dreamless, but depending on my availability to write as classes start up again, the posting schedule looks to be around once every three weeks to a month.

In other words, Deathless is not going to be written any time soon. I would absolutely adore writing it, but I cannot handle more than one major story at a time, and my worldbuilding on that story is still massively underdeveloped. I imagine I’m going to iron that out once I start working on the novellas, but considering it took me nine months to fully flesh out the world of Dreamless and also completely restarting the story after that, it will not be any time soon.

Now that that’s out of the way... what exactly is Deathless? The idea actually came about while I was trying to figure out the plot for a Jaune and Vi story. I’ve loved the sisters since my first playthrough, and I think canon did them both extremely dirty, so I wanted to write something that explores them more as well as the surrounding world around their being honeybees. The more I worked on it, however, the more unrelated details popped up, until I realized that I would be doing the story a gigantic disservice if I did not write it from Leif’s perspective first. And that’s where the first idea for Deathless blossomed.

Of course, I can’t really give you the plot. Not that it’s finished anyway. One thing I can share, and one thing that’s relevant to ToMG, is that I’ve heavily rebuilt Bugaria. It’s not even called Bugaria anymore; it’s now called the Four Hives kingdom cluster. It’s a mixed kingdom cluster with arboreal, terrestrial, and underground kingdoms. Aka, there is a big tree that at least one kingdom makes their home in, while a neighboring kingdom makes its home at the base of the tree, and another kingdom makes its home in the roots of the tree. In this case, the bee kingdom roosts in the crown of the tree, the ant kingdom makes its home on the ground, and the termite kingdom is underground, weaving between the root system. I have not fully decided for the wasp kingdom yet; originally I was going to make them a type of yellow jacket that makes underground nests, but since I found out about aerial yellow jackets, I’ve been reconsidering. The basic details of the kingdoms remain unchanged; the ant kingdom still hosts a wide diversity of bug species, and is also the biggest kingdom. Subsequently, it’s also the main export and import kingdom. Anything that is shipped to the Four Hives goes through the ant kingdom first, where it’s then rerouted to the other kingdoms as needed, and vice versa.

This is where the mail grubs come in. Cross-kingdom cluster mail is handled in the same way, but unlike packages and bigger shipments, mail is very lightweight, and there’s often also A Lot of it. Delivering it by hand from the ant kingdom to the other three kingdoms diverts manpower away from handling the bigger packages. So, there’s a system in place where the workers simply sort the mail into which kingdom the mail belongs to, and mail grubs come and pick up little satchels of mail and fly them to the respective kingdom. (There’s special underground tunnels for termite kingdom mail delivery.) It speeds up the delivery process a whole lot, and the mail grubs also serve as a free serotonin boost; they’re super friendly and vocal, and they work during the lighter hours of the cycle, so anyone out doing their typical business will be treated to a chorus of mail grub singing.

The Four Hives isn’t the only kingdom cluster to use mail grubs, but it’s the kingdom cluster I’ve developed the most with regards to the mail grub routes, so that’s why I opted to use it as the backdrop. I’ve also figured out a way to link it to Deathless lore, which is the other reason why I’m making this post. I had hoped to keep Deathless secret a bit longer, but oh well. I think it’s kind of obvious I’m always bursting with ideas.

Anyway, go check out the blog. I love interactive fiction and I really hope people enjoy this idea akdjfghdjk

[zu-is-here]

finally, a truly deserved curse

[prahacat]

first snow

[mylovelookup]

Modern au

[icewavex]

Finally made references for Deathless Death (Fanfic I’m working on) Dream and Killer!

[unholystarcrown]

3: Rise from the Dead.

Now also available on AO3!

This is for @/stychu-stych COTL-Tober.

Thank you for reading.

The early morning grew colder than before, not once did a raven call out to awake the sleeping cult. It was late winter; an ongoing plague had struck and only so many individuals could bear the consequences of humanity. It was only five lost. Surely, that could be taken care of. Helob has more, and so did wandering cultists that prayed to gods no longer.

But what of a lamb, only last of his kind, falls too ill to survive another day of the cold?

What would become of this young thing?

——————————

"Kallamar, you are the only one of this cult who can help him! He's been bedridden for days, cannot even sit up from his bed!"

The yells of the Reverend Mother could be heard from the west side of the cult grounds; her words clear yet heartbroken. Her only son was slipping away from her arms, a fear no mother like her wanted to face. She was scared for her boy, and only an ex-bishop was so cowardice to seek proper answers.

The shaking squid ducked deeper behind his desk, in fear of the cult leader. Had he grown a spine or three, he would have set her straight. This was still his domain, no matter if he turned away his crown or not.

"Forgive me, but with the surprising number of other cultists remain sick, your beloved son must wait!"

Yes, it was selfish of the Reverend Mother to only prioritize her only son over the cult. But he was her only child, her only family. These followers she collected up to millennia mean nothing to her. Not even the bishops she forcefully put to rest mattered.

They were never her family. That lamb is her family.

And yet in the midst of pointless arguing, the child's last breath was only a cold exhale.

——————————

"You are one mad man for you request me, her disciple, to dig out her son's body from the ground. And in winter, of all the things."

Maleficent, an eagle and one of the Reverend Mother's trusted disciples, could only watch in pure disgust of the High Priest putting the young lamb's body in a flowered coffin above a ritual pentagram. She never understood him, especially since he was the past master of the Red Crown.

Narinder, the cult's High Priest, let out a small huff at the elder eagle's complaint as he flipped through the cult's bible. Through his immortality, he worked to the top to gain something as close to a god though he would never admit to care so genuinely for the Reverend Mother.

Yet his cold heart softened when he saw that woman cry out to the world when she felt her son's cold body.

He just had to do something.

"Spare me your complaints. She wishes for her son alive; I will do just that."

Maleficent scoffed, crossing her arms. Was this cat losing his head or was he doing this out of something else? She couldn't tell by his forever scowl.

"Samael will know of this, this will be your fifth time breaking the order of all nature. It'll have your head and where will you be then?"

Narinder could only glance a glare before resuming his research. If his cowardly brother wasn't going to help, then he will. This was an opportunity for trust, something to spit in the Reverend Mother's face if she ever was chained away like he was once centuries ago.

How cruel was he to make this seem payback for betrayal a second time? He wouldn't dare answer that out loud nor in his mind. All followers knew.

But he must focus, or else that body in front of him will rot longer. And oh how he hated the smell of rotten flesh.

The sounds of bones breaking and repositioning, smell of flesh being sewn back together with blood of gods. Nothing but horrid sounds of a revival awakening.

Welcome home once more, little lamb.

[arleniansdoodles]

How much is calliope able to tell sindri of the Greek world?

So far, she hasn't really told him a lot about Greece, except that she's from Sparta, and a bit about the creation of humans in Greek mythology XDD I think Sindri's spent more time telling her stories about Midgard, specifically dwarf legends and his memories of Faye!

Speaking of, it's been a while since I shared a snippet of the fic, hasn't it? Below is a little piece of Sindri and Calliope sharing stories; for context, they're at Sindri's hideout in Svartalfheim, and Calliope's been visiting him at his forge just to chat and spend time together :D

“I thought of an old dwarf legend to tell you,” he offered. “Want to hear it?”

“Yes!” Calliope piped. “What kind of story is it?”

He smiled slightly. “It’s about the first ruler of the dwarves …”

Sindri went on to tell her about Durinn, the first dwarf ever created, and how he founded many great kingdoms and wielded the strongest of all hammers. Durinn made many manikins out of the earth, which were given life by the gods, becoming humans. Other dwarves evolved from the maggots that ate the first Giant’s flesh, and they all formed Durinn’s clan.

“Maggots!” Calliope repeated, failing to repress a shudder. “I wouldn’t want to come from a maggot!”

“Then what would you come from?” Sindri asked, amused. “Would you rather be made from the earth?”

“That’s what we say in my homeland,” Calliope said. “The first humans were made from clay. At least with clay, you can sculpt it any way you want!”

That was true. And at one point, Sindri had been just as disgusted by the maggot legend as she was.

He told her a few other stories, having thought up a very short list of all the happy ones, or at least those that didn’t end badly. Calliope hung on his every word, asking questions and poking for more details. Like, what did Durinn do in his leisure time? Did he make weapons like Sindri? Or did he build other things? And the famous alchemist Ivaldi, wasn’t he ever worried about making a mess with his experiments? Did he ever take a break? If his sons were always helping him, maybe that was their idea of family time!

Her chattering drudged up memories of the past – Atreus, around Calliope’s height, pestering Sindri with questions of dwarven history. Sindri saw him in his mind’s eye, perched on the edge of the worktable, idly swinging his feet.

I really wanna see Svartalfheim someday, Atreus chattered on. If its tower ever opens up, will you show me around? I wanna meet all the dwarves and learn their stories!

Sindri shook himself. That time was long past. Atreus finally got around to seeing Svartalfheim, though Sindri wasn’t able to give him a tour. Even if he could, there wasn’t much to show, or many dwarves to meet, given how they’d all shunned him at the time.

Then again … Maybe Calliope wouldn’t mind seeing more of Svartalfheim. She certainly seemed interested in Niðavellir, far below the mountain they stood on. One day, perhaps, Sindri could show her around there.

Calliope eventually grew bored of engraving practice and helped Sindri around the forge instead. Once he finished his current project (a very sturdy shield), she offered to sing the Thrymskviða for him.

Calliope’s music was an entirely different experience from listening to dwarf music. Hel, Sindri was tempted to put it on Faye’s level, and he considered Faye’s voice to be high art in itself. Calliope’s voice was pure and clear, like water from a mountain spring, or the snow glistening on Midgard’s peaks. Her magic lay just beneath the surface, waiting to be used, but she didn’t need it; the story of the Thrymskviða unfolded in his mind like painted murals moving on wooden panels. He saw King Thrym stealing Mjölnir while Thor slept, followed by Thor’s rage, and the Aesir’s meeting to discuss solutions … And the song ended.

Sindri blinked, coming out of his daze. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yes, but I haven’t practiced the next verses as much,” Calliope said, embarrassed. “I didn’t want to mess them up here.”

“Even if you did, I’m sure you’d still sound great. You, uh, you really have a voice.”

Calliope’s cheeks flushed red. “Thank you.”

[whitestgray]

I made CORE in Gacha Life 2! As you can see, I capitalize everything CORE says, and it is agender and goes by it/its pronouns.

Also, around time of existence, CORE was about 6 years old. It fell into the Core, and was erased from existence. However, only it’s SOUL was erased, making CORE soulless. It’s soullessness is different than Ink’s, obviously. CORE still feels emotions, but does not have a physical manifestation, meaning it cannot be touched.

CORE is about as old as Quetzalcoatl. (Who came before the gods and is the oldest Guardian.)

[a-koschyei]

me, fully losing my mind writing up this winter trilogy verse (major spoilers ahead):

[rust-bearer]

First Aid Deathless AU aka angel au. The specific thought that prompted this was. Overlord’s death count in his rampage. Surely First Aid would have been tending to people as they fell. He wouldn’t have just hid like Ratchet told him too (Ambulon hadn’t, either.)

Now imagine he just. Dies too. He is rushing down the hall and comes across Overlord in the overmosh pit. One badly placed swing. One ill timed step. First Aid flies back, hits something, impales himself. Dies.

No one notices. By the time they do, he’s alive again. What a miracle that he’s fine, they all say. Wounded, but alive.

He doesn’t tell them.

[doodling-doodle]

A Modern Great War (PT. 13)

They were searching. They needed to find Kyle before it was too late.

Alex was panicking. He needed to get Kyle, he couldn't let this happen, he had to save him, he needed him, Rose needed him, they all needed him.

Maxis took him away from him.

Maxis took him away from him.

Maxis took him away from him.

It had been twenty-four hours since Maxis took Kyle. They were all just hoping that he’d open a portal and come back. Alex could hear the voice that he loved again.

In the meantime, they were at a safehouse. Using what they had to see if they could find anything regarding either Maxis, Kyle, or Kortifex. 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He was going to lose Kyle.

"Alex?"

He looked up at Graves, then back down at the computer. Kyle's tracker was coming in and out, and he was trying to keep an eye on it.

"You can't stay up all night watching that."

"We have a day left before Kyle is gone, I can't do that to him and I can't do that to Rose. I need to find him before it's too late."

He sat next to him, looking at the screen.

"He- he's in Germany. Maxis has him in Germany, we'll never get there in time."

"All we can do is hope he snaps out of it and gets here."

He just kept an eye on it. Twenty-four turned to thirty-four. He just wanted his Kyle back.

“Please, Kyle… Come back…”

They weren’t getting him back.

Maybe they could…

A portal opened.

They all went through it to see…

“What the fuck is this place?” He whispered.

“Welcome to the Wilds, Seedlings.”

“What the fuck?!” Price yelled.

“Relax. I am Vercanna the Last. I am helping Sergeant Garrick.”

“Why didn’t you just take us to him?!” Alex yelled.

“Don’t worry. Things will make sense soon.”

They were left alone in “The Wilds”.

Then Kortifex showed up,

“Welcome to the Dark Aether, Red Bloods.”

They didn’t have the saving grace that they did last time.

But, still, a purple Rune Wall sheilded them.

And a young woman appeared out of smoke. 

“Maxis…”

Her. The fucking person that took his Kyle from him.

“Did you miss seeing me like this?”

“I never missed you at all. Where’s your ‘pawn’?”

She smiled as small explosions happened behind her.

Then, his worst nightmare happened.

Kyle appeared out of a portal. Yellow eyes. He looked… empty. Hollow. 

Maxis took his Kyle.

He couldn't save him.

"We were too late…"

[zu-is-here]

The Frog Princess ✧ Your Culture Day

Dream & Nightmare by jokublog

Cross from xtaleunderverse by jakei95

[lv-bites]

How did you Love?

    The family that Tough has now, and in the future, would help him understand Radiance… Sun’s Radiance, his ex… his best friend… the only person to have truly understood him. Radiance's need to be relevant, to be greater, to be an immortal God. Tough hated him for that, because from his point of view, it was a selfish and needless death. Everything Radiance did brought him to that death.

    But Radiance, like Tough, wanted to leave a mark. He wanted to be remembered. He wanted to touch the lives of others, and give them purpose. Radiance and Tough both wanted to be at the centre of that. Radiance genuinely seemed to love his cult, love his church. Tough assumed they were seen as assets, disposable, and maybe they were. but when Tough rejected becoming Radiance's worshipper, it seemed to be like a betrayal. Tough didn't want to become just another number of mindless followers, but from Radiance's view, Tough was rejecting his love. Rejecting him. Rejecting his mark... his impact.

    Tough's rejection of Radiance snuffed out whatever Godhood he felt closer to. He couldn't maintain his form, his health, even his sermons would peter out...

    And then he died. He was dead long before Tough slithered in to the barn. He was dead long before Tough prayed to him... all that remained was a husk, frozen in a pose of divinity. And it collapsed on top of the one he needed to love him most.

          And killed Tough, too.

    If Tough were to understand Radiance’s perspective, it would be after he's spent more time with his nieces. Likely while taking back the Underwaste. I can see him feeling so proud of his charges... his nieces. But the thought of losing them, it strikes such a chord in him. It's not like before.. it's not something that just happens. It doesn't feel like betrayal either... rather. It is a risk. A loss.

    It stirs him, this thought, much in the way he felt when he lost Radiance.

    While underground, Tough goes out on his own, into the more abandoned parts of the old Colony. People congregated in the massive centre city, where trade was welcomed. They forgot the dark times, they forgot the ones who died, who drowned, who were buried… they forgot the screams. Tough Love never did.

    He finds his old home, or what is left of it. Mostly collapsed in from cave ins and rot... but he sees his old cot, and finds some green army men under the pillow. Tough holds them... he can't remember his parents' faces at all. There are silhouettes, there are garbled voices, there are rough crayon scribbles all over where their faces out to be.

    He sees a single, giant sunflower growing from the ceiling, its petals are bright, glowing pink. Rather than trying to grow upward, it is upside-down and growing toward the pillow, perhaps reaching down towards… his old cot? Maybe, those green army-men that were hidden beneath the pillow. How Theodore loved his little green army-men.

    Tough's eye widens. Wouldn't a sunflower want the sun? Even one as full of corruption as this? Why grow towards what used to be...

    It hits him.

        Radiance... grew towards love. Love.

    He wanted the same things Tough wanted, but their madness, their sicknesses... prevented them from really, truly being able to know it.

    They were from this place. Both of them. Different mining colonies, yes, but still... They had both come from this Hell. Radiance's words to Tough hit him like a sack of bricks. "I'm forgetting, Teddy."

    Forgetting was natural for those whose lives were ruined by the Poison, but that longing, that yearning translated into a need to be remembered. To never be forgotten. To make a mark. Every person lost to this tragedy, buried below, didn't want to be forgotten.

    Tough would think about Radiance describing his to-be ascension. How happy it made him, the idea of always watching everyone, warming them, guiding them. And so many people, though unable to look upon him directly, would love him. Worship him. Unable to forget him.

    Tough was always so literal, always dismissing the notions of Godhood. He didn't want to lose his best and closest friend. And in the end... he would reject him. Tough would now be able to see that Radiance's dream of being worshipped was a mutation, a corruption of needing to be remembered. Of having mattered. And when Tough rejected him… Radiance rejected Tough, cursing him out as a heretic, as blasphemous. He disguised his pain, his broken heart, with scriptures spoken so callously. He would scar Tough’s eye and he would leave him as the serpent cried out for him to stay. Promises of leaving together, just the two of them, like old times. Radiance didn’t want it to be like old times… he wanted to be adored. He wanted to be loved. He wanted to be worshipped. He wanted to leave an impact… a mark. If Tough were the only person who knew him, then how would he be remembered?

    Tough moves his hands to his face, hearing the soft clatter of the bracelet he wore. He stares at it, remembering Radiance's softness. The psalm he recited as he placed the bracelet in Tough's scarred palm, like prayer beads.

    FOR THE LORD GOD IS A SUN AND SHIELD. THOSE WHO LOOK TO HIM ARE RADIANT; THEIR FACES ARE NEVER COVERED WITH SHAME.

    Tough can't help the sudden cry that escapes his throat, he crumples down on himself, tearing off his eye-patch and pressing the bracelet to his closed eyes. He sobs wretchedly, curling on himself tighter. He thinks of his family… the one he can remember. The one he made, choosing each member himself. His gang, The Surprisingly Severe. He thinks of Specter. Of Latch and Buttons. They would have followed him everywhere.

    He thinks of his nieces, his… children? Martyr, Elaina, Carey. They remember him. They know him. He's left his mark on them... and they still choose to be here. He gave them purpose, and they gave him life.

    He understands now, Radi. He understands now. You wanted to be remembered, at your core, that flame had never gone out. You wanted… to be loved. You wanted to have mattered. You wanted your life, which had been so carelessly discarded, to have meant something.

[seekerstone]

having hyper specific aus for your own ocs is torture actually because sometimes im like ouughoughouguughghough i am Unwell abt this. but there’s no one who will get it 

[unholystarcrown]

16: Confess Your Sins

Now also available on AO3!

This is for @/stychu-stych COTL-Tober.

Thank you for reading.

"It is a... interesting sight to see you, of all the people here, to come for confessions."

Narinder kept his mouth closed as the one separated from him spoke, keeping his gaze away from the dark veil that restricted sight of the being above him in status. He was having... doubts, as of late. Even urges that he seemed to not rip from his head. He felt weak to come to the booth, feeling miserable to rely on such a being that was the leader of a seemingly innocent community.

Yet she, the Reverend Mother, gave him comfort to his struggles with her soft words.

"You know why. It is the same. My thoughts plague me, and I yet to find answers."

Narinder heard her laugh lightly, his three tails flickering to his unamused aura.

"Forgive me, dear High Priest. I do not mean to laugh at you. But I can't help that someone like you, with power of yours still at its prime, come to me for solutions then yourself."

The mixed eldritch cat only scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. Narinder wasn't one to truly confess. Only to speak in riddles to make the other work harder to give him what he wants. But now, it seemed the only person he trusts is using his own tactic against him.

Not that he minded in a sense.

"I served prisoned solitude of crimes I wouldn't think committing. Chained to my own domain out of the paranoia of the ones I once called family. But you... your words, your comfort. It heals wounds that my heart in seconds."

Narinder moved closer to the wall that separated himself from her, a hand to the wooden structure and the stained glass.

"I trust you. Aid me, as I had aided you before."

He heard her sigh. That was hopeful.

"Your persistence makes me smile, dear. So for another lifetime in this soul, I will aid you."

Narinder could only softly smile to himself.

"Thank you, my wife."