#humanity is a cage but so is divinity

[blood-ology]

Finally watching a John Waters movie,, this shit is so fucking funny and insane I love it lmfao

[neverendingford]

.

[stupidsexygrizzop]

got this real specific kind of illness that has me comparing tfr oken and spn michael i think i need to be put down

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

I NEED Yandere tfe and tfp Starscream being comforted by their human after his daily beat down with Megatron. You don’t understand I want to kiss him and cuddle him so bad it makes me look STUPID.

It's okay, bestie - he makes me look stupid too. (●'◡'●)

Yandere!Starscream being comforted by his Human!Darling (TFP & TFE)

WARNINGS: Yandere behaviour (soft leaning??) Hurt and comfort, mentions of abuse and past abuse. Self deprecating behaviour (Starscream's). Reader is gender neutral and a human.

TFP Starscream

"Starscream!" Your cry of concern makes the seeker whince and his wings drop lower even more than they were already. There were many injuries with already leaking energon on his frame, dents here and there and another nasty marks that gave out how Starscream had to deal with another beating from Megatron.

And Starscream didn't want to let you see him like this - he looked pathetic, weak and he always feared one day you would realize that he wasn't worthy of your love.

Sitting on the metallic floor, the seeker hears the sound of your quick steps getting closer and feels the warmth of your hands touching one of his arms.

"Please, leave me alone." He pleads with his hurt voice, closing his optics and moving his helm away to not see you.

"As hell I am leaving, Starscream - He hurt you again!" You say, clearly angry and worried at the state of your lover. And it's your genuine worry that makes the seeker's spark clench and feel warm, too. It has been so many years since someone has ever been worried over him. You were such an angel, his true saviour, and he feels so disgusting with himself. He feels tainted, disgusting, dirty and someone as precious as you shouldn't be touching anything that is beneath you... like him.

"Starscream... please, look at me." You plead softly, and the seeker can't bring himself to not do what you ask, so he opens his optics and looks down at you. That gentle smile of yours makes him wail from the inside.

"My love, I... I just -" He starts, but quiets himself down when he feels you carefully get on his lap and hug him, your arms and head resting against his chestplate.

Precious you, divine you - someone as celestial as you loving someone like him. Starscream can't help himself but breakdown, allowing himself to cry as he is being 'held' by you. He didn't deserve you, you should only witness a worthy bot, not an injured one like himself. But the mere idea of you being in the arms of another bot made his spark clench and wail.

Even if it meant to have his frame marked and injured, his energon constantly leaking and be all battered and dented - Starscream would endure it to keep you with him. If it meant to have your eyes, attention and love on him, then Starscream will allow the others to humilliate him, to push him around, to bruise his pride and ego. Anything to have your love.

TFE Starscream

"Starscream... it was another nightmare, wasn't it?"

The seeker grumbles, moving his helm so he doesn't let you see the deep frown made on his faceplate and how he is hugging his legs against his chestplate for the sake of controlling his shaking frame.

Of course it was another nightmare and you curse silently to the bot and people whom had hurt your lover for so many years. Starscream has confessed to you that he was no saint or pure bot, he had done his share of pain and evil doing to get himself kicked around and punished. Still, there were many things that gave out that Starscream endured more passing from what he did, used as a punching bag by the leader he followed to then be trapped like a bird inside of a cage and witness his teammates be also pushed around as if they were nothing.

"It doesn't matter." Starscream says.

"It does matter!" You argue back, finally approaching your lover who, without asking or waiting, already extends his servo so you sit on it and carefully brings you closer to his faceplate. You place your hands on his faceplate, making the bot ex-vent and close his optics for a moment, finding comfort in them.

"... They found us - and he found me again. And while they took me back into that cell... he took you away from me. No matter how much I cursed and fought, you simply disappeared." He finally confesses, his voice trembling a little.

You frown, concerned - this wasn't the first time Starscream had a nightmare that was either related to G.H.O.S.T or Megatron. Still, it broke your heart each time to see him this shaken and affected.

"I am not going anywhere without you." You say, hugging his faceplate, and he snuzzles back.

You were right - Starscream wasn't going to let anyone take you away from him. He has finally found a place where he belongs, he has finally found someone who loves him dearly. And he loves you, too - so dearly it makes his spark nearly explode. He would shed energon and behead anyone who tries to separate you from him. He will burn down anything for you.

"... You'll never leave me." He mumbles.

"I won't. Ever." You mumble back, reassuring him.

I apologize for my inactivity o(￣┰￣*)ゞ my job got too actively crazy last week and I am suffering the effects of burnout. Vhaos out!

[cockainalips]

“Where’s your God now?” - Luigi Mangione x reader smut based on this post ↓

creds to @cranberrydietcoke and @ninemillimeterangel

summary: you are spending your night studying at Luigi's place, but a conversation about you being a christian changes the route of your night

warnings: oral sex (fem), dirty talk, blasphemy ig, unprotected sex, creampie

English is not my first language!

Spending the night studying at Lu's apartment made you a little nervous, not because of the finals, but because of him. You were going there to study and do it alone with a guy felt so, so wrong. As a christian, it was crazy to think you were about to do something like that.

You rang the doorbell and waited for him. He opened the door and smiled at you. You two went to his bedroom and sat on the floor to start studying. Your heart raced when he closed the door.

He opened the biology book, and you two started doing some flashcards, asking questions to each other and discussing how the human body works.

“You know what? Our bodies are amazing. It’s hard to believe that the nature is capable to create something like this”

— That’s why i believe in God - you said.

He looked at you, like you were saying the craziest thing ever.

“How can you prove that? Have you ever seen Him?”

— No, but I can feel Him, that’s all that matters.

“Just because we have perfect bodies with perfect systems, it doesn’t mean there’s a divine creator behind everything, you know?”

“I feel Him, I can talk to Him, you don’t understand”

“The science is the truth, I truly don’t understand how can you believe in something that’s not proven when you have real facts in front of you”

His face was getting closer to yours at every single word, the wetness of his breath was driving you crazy.

“Why are you freaking out? Just because i wanna follow the God's plan?”

“What the fuck are you talkin' about? This is the real life, and you're wasting it, you could be having the best experiences, but you rather be caged to this belief”

You lay on his bed, sighing in depths of confusion, desire and disappointment.

“you’re so pretty,” luigi whispers. it would be a waste, really, if you didn’t get all that you deserve.

he’s ecstatic at the sight of your body sprawled across his bed, he sinks down beside you and pulls your body closer to his.

“you've no idea how often i loose my mind thinking about this, about how stupid you are for depriving yourself so much”

As more he talks, he gets rougher, his feelings seems ten times more intense, his hands hold you tighter. He unzips your white dress and starts kissing your neck aggressively, leaving hickeys everywhere.

“I wanna give you real experiences, you want this, don't you?"

leaving you completely naked, he notices the wet mess that was happening all over your legs.

“you want me that fuckin’ bad?”

feeling the wetness pooling between your legs, he presses his nose against your clit, you cry out gripping his shoulders tightly.

"oh fuck, luigi," you gasp, your nails scratching his back. He smiles at you with his head between your legs shaking uncontrollably.

“So, where is your God now? I can’t see Him, I can’t feel Him…”

“oh my…” you were loosing your senses, his hands sliding up your thighs,

“look at you, you don’t even know who are you praying to”

"i want you, luigi," you cry, "i want you so bad."

“i know, my love, i know,” he says, kissing the running tears down your cheeks. Whimpering underneath him, he fucks into you like he’s craving to see you crumble.

“you’re so good, so perfect and wet, I just can’t help myself.”

He throws you on the bed, and enters you hungrily. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Look at me. I want you to look at me in the eyes, my love. You look so fuckin’ gorgeous with your legs spread.“

With each thrust, he drove deeper, filling you completely, you cry out as he hit that sweet spot inside you, he bites your neck while you’re crying against his chest.

“You’re so perfect, everything about you, I can’t get enough of this perfect pussy.”

“I want you. I want your cum inside me.”

his cock wildly moving inside your wet pussy, his dark eyes looking at your body with nothing but love, his hands tightly brushing against your waist.

"god, i'm gonna cum,"

You can't hold yourself any longer. you cum hard, your body shakes with pleasure, he spills himself inside you, filling you with his sweet cum.

He smiles at you, giving him the perfect view to watch your face as you fall apart over and over on his cock.

[veritasss5]

The price for your new beginning | pick a card.

Disclaimer: this is a GENERAL READING, take what it resonates and leave behind what doesn’t. This is for fun and should never be taken seriously. This is for entertainment purposes. It is just for helping you to have a general idea about your situation. If it does help you fine I am very happy about it, if not then I am sorry that it wasn’t for you and move on.

Take a moment to relax your mind and choose with your intuition.

Pile 1 → Pile 2 → Pile 3

Pile 1

Pile one I sensed you have family issues where you wish to run away instantly.

I got the KEEPER OF BEGINNINGS for you.

In order to become free from any negative and toxic situation that you are in, you must sacrifice the cords and chains that are blocking you from flying freely to explore this world.

You must let go people’s expectations on you, they are “suggesting” to become a certain version of you, but none are the version of you want to be.

To become a butterfly, you must go through a metamorphosis. Sacrifice the old for the new. There won’t be a new beginning without the ending.

The never ending cycle of old and new would never exist without each other.

I do sense you are someone supposed to fly freely in the sky and explore the ocean of this world. Blue and light blue are strong colours that I see for you.

You may fight a lot for your freedom, and you are reluctant to sacrifice and make a huge discussion for your own personal choice.

Pleasing people is easy, but is it worth it? Have you ever seen a butterfly locked in a cage?

Choosing yourself was never an easy option, but at the end this journey full of obstacles will be worth it if you are the one to choose among others' expectations about you.

It’s fine to say no. It’s fine to misstep in a world full of perfection.

Go fly higher little butterfly of freedom. Don’t stay in this cage full of lack of empathy for you. If someone really thinks for you, it is you. People that love may not understand you, but it is fine.

You are the one to seek importance and validation from you.

It’s time to break the chains without fear of consequences.

Pile 2

Pile two I sensed you are very close to your new beginning. I saw a person in the dark really close to the door of light where you can exit the tunnel of darkness.

I got the KEEPER OF COMFORT for you.

You can relax now. All your hard work that you put before has paid off greatly for you. The price that you have to pay is only to get out of your comfort zone and do stuff that your past self would never imagine.

I do see that you are highly guided and protected. So the results earned is also thanks to your great spirit team or divinity that has your back.

There is one specific spirit or ally (can be physical or spiritual) that helped you a lot to get out from your darkness. They helped you greatly when you needed it the most and now you can share your happiness and achievements with them.

Some people do see a big shift of energy in you or a great change in you. They either congratulate you directly or secretly admire you from a far. They consider you as a strong person and a few of them never imagined you would do this big jump of change.

If you are still struggling, keep going because you are someone that has a high inner strength. You are very close to your new chapter and so don’t let go of your hope.

If you can’t handle anymore, ask help for divinities or spirits to come and guide you.

After that door you will enjoy a beautiful view, like a secret garden that no humans have ever seen before. That beautiful view that only you get to visit is a very beautiful and fulfilling prize after your struggles and hard work. Just like when you climb the mountain and see a beautiful landscape on the top of the mountain.

People won’t get it, but you are happy. You are happy that you got what you desire and that’s what matters the most.

You are a beautiful human being full of love and empathy, don’t let people shut down your light.

Pile 3

Pile three I sensed you are very heartbroken for something. I sensed grief and loss. You are very sad that you lost something important and you can’t recover those good memories of before.

Moving to the card, I got KEEPER OF SURRENDER for you.

This card is suggesting you surrender and let go of the things that you can’t recover or repair anymore.

You already made the sacrifice, you can’t undone the action. Sometimes losing something dear to you hurts so badly, but it is also a sign of healing and welcoming the new positive experience that is awaiting for you.

Your price for your new beginning is indeed sacrificing what can't have a good influence or impact for you. I see a lot of crying and grief. Please take a break and have self love healing sessions with yourself.

Put a lot of extra care with yourself, and treat yourself as a very light feather that is made of delicate material.

You may be overwhelmed by negative emotions right now, but soon you will be free from the grief.

For you that is autumn right now. Winter will come for you to rest and heal. And so on spring will also come for you to be strong and welcome the new beginning that Life (universe) is having reserved for you.

You are the pile that doesn’t need a new beginning instantly after the heartbreak phase. So take your time that you need to pick up your strength to move on. Listen to yourself and the voice that is hidden in your heart. It is time to think about what you actually need in your life.

One day you shall shine like a bright star, but it is not today, for now.

[iri-desky]

A few Luka thoughts because I'm insane

The reason so many characters see their lovers and those they miss in Luka is for two reasons. 1. He tries to be the idol, someone's god, something larger than life outside of the cage for his illusion of freedom. It's all a desperate attempt to conceal the fact he has a god himself and is just as vulnerable as any mortal, as any human who has the potential to feel. (Part of my thoughts on how Ruler of My Heart reflects Luka, which I'll probably reflect on later, albeit it's primarily because of the infamous line "Make me your god--I can give you everything!") The divinity he manifests reminds those of who they worshipped in their tumultuous mind and brings them a feigned promise of salvation.

OR, MORE LIKELY;

2. Luka is a blank slate. He is whatever they tell him to be, he is what he is required to be and nothing more. That's why his aesthetic is merely the picture of elegance and nothing more, just pure white and gold. Blank. Nothing, no emotion, only what you want to see. Just what you wish you see. It's all a game, he does what is needed to survive. While I'm not a believer in the idea that Luka did that weird hallucinations thing in Round 5 on purpose, I'm mostly definitely a believer in the idea that that's just the effect Luka has on people. He's PERFECTION. Perfection how you want it, when you want it.

Luka is like iridescent or tinted glass. The light he projects changes from your perspective, as to what it needs to be to abide by the laws of light and physics. However, it's distinctively a bit different from the light that enters, namely a bit shinier and prettier. But you don't care because it's pretty, after all. But at the end of the day, i's thin glass with only a little change to it. It can be shattered at any moment and can only shine with light. But it's pretty, right?

[solspina]

Halos are for Angels

mephiston ⋆˙⟡

solspina is mephiposting as a little treat what a surprise

attacked by a mutant and pinned down somewhere she doesn't want to be, reader is hesitantly rescued by a black-winged angel many dread meeting.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: blood, mentions of injury, general 40k stuff

The cheers from the people of Baal were always deafening, and they always screamed the golden one’s praises.

They sung his name as if he were a divine savior, a messiah, beautiful and glorious. Perfect and untainted and everything in between.

“O’ Sanguinor, O’ Sanguinor!”

The Sanguinor was perfect. The eulogy was beyond deserved.

And so was the contempt, the incrimination of its counterpart. The black angel was everything the Sanguinor wasn’t, everything he couldn’t be. While the Sanguinor was golden and pristine, the black angel was made of ivory skin and breakable bones. One was faultless and one was flawed. One was revered and the other was shunned.

And this was the truth of what he would always b-

A muffled scream tore the lord of death away from his thoughts in an instant.

He’d assumed for a moment that he’d accidentally trampled or stepped on some poor baseline in his absentminded walking through a tribe, but a quick assessment of the area and the clear view of sand underneath his armored boots said otherwise.

His concern grew rather quickly as he searched the surrounding area with his enhanced sight, only to eventually find an incredibly small baseline thrashing and panicking as she remained caged underneath one of baal’s many mutants. It loomed over her, its acidic breath quite clearly blinding her - helping it weaken her struggle - and its mandibles sharpening against themselves as it threatened to pierce a vital organ. One of its sharp appendages had already found a home in the flesh of her shoulder.

He watched her eyes dart around Baal's barren landscape until her gaze locked onto his frame in the near distance, and her tiny baseline hand reached out toward Mephiston. As she stared at him with panicked eyes, he broke free from his confusion and sighed, lifting his boot and stomping it into the ground as to attract the mutant’s attention.

Psychic black wings sprouted from his back, and he ascended into the air with a single thunderous beat before he closed the distance between himself and the altercation faster than the eyes of both inferior beings could fathom. Vitarus rather quickly plunged itself into mutant flesh, ripping and tearing vitae away from its host as it penetrated a sad excuse for mutant skin over and over until the creature's pained noises were just as hoarse as the baseline's screams had become.

The human let out a second, much raspier scream as the mutant fell to the ground. it's mandible ripped from the gaping wound in her shoulder, and the stench of burning dead mutant filled the air as Vitarus exalted itself from its filthy corpse one last time. Both the sight and scent were putrid even to the Lord of Death, but better a dead mutant than a living one.

She sobbed as he approached and her tears mixed in streaks with the dust of Baal on her cheeks. With desperate effort she attempted to scramble away but could not move her arm without immense, searing pain. Regardless of whether or not she wanted to flee the savior she had prayed for, the agony was too great to bear and she winced with every slight contraction of muscle.

“I- I’m sorry my lord, please don’t-“ She stammered, eyes wide with fear and voice filled with choked desperation as Mephiston's much larger body cast a shadow over her.

He placed a single one of his fingers over his lips in a silencing yet deliberate gesture before crouching down and igniting his hand with warp energy. His gaze never left her eyes as he brought his hand closer to her bleeding shoulder, and her breath hitched at the idea of the oncoming pain soon to flood her wound.

The agonizing pain she had expected, though, was instead a feeling of soothing warmth accompanied by a soft hum emitting from the hand that touched almost delicately where she had been hurt. She watched in horror, or perhaps awe, as her flesh began to mend itself underneath the touch of her savior.

He said not a word as her sobs of pain faded into soft hiccups and the searing sensation upon her skin became nothing more than light tingling. When he finally withdrew his hand from her shoulder, she hesitated for a moment before testing her repaired limb - shocked to find that she could move without pain. The only evidence that remained was the blood staining her shirt and skin, both of which dried rather quickly under Baal's red sunlight.

"Thank you..." She blinked up at him, her tears still glistening in the corners of her eyes, but her gaze held nothing more than gratitude.

“You need not thank me.” Mephiston replied, taking note of her absence of fear. “Let us get you home. I have no more time to stall.”

His expressionless face and monotone replies came in great contrast to her newfound bubbly and vibrant demeanor. Despite this, she followed him without hesitation the moment he turned from her and began the short walk back to the village in which she resided.

She dug through her bag as the two of them walked. Mephiston took long and purposeful strides in front as she trailed hurriedly behind in order to keep his pace. In her fingers, she worked hastily with a small bundle of flowers she had retrieved from a small compartment in a bag she carried with her. Occasionally, she gazed up at the lord of death to make sure he had not turned to question her or view the object in her minuscule baseline hands.

Oblivious to the mortal behind him, Mephiston contemplated for a moment how a baseline had managed to get this far without anyone noticing her disappearance. Tribes on Baal were typically exceptional at keeping track of their members, especially considering the loss of one could mean a complete shift in the way of life for many. There would be a new role to fill, a family without a mother or daughter, a meal that could be distributed to those left hungry or sick. Her survival was a mystery almost as much as her unnoticed disappearance was, and a piece of him felt incredibly fortunate that his absentminded stroll had led him directly to her before something more catastrophic could have occurred. One thing he knew for certain, though, was the feint scent of the flowers she carried. He hoped she had not been so foolish as to come into the wilderness seeking them and them alone.

It hadn’t been long before the village came into view again. It stood safe and close enough for the baseline following behind Mephiston to return home without his immediate assistance, but far enough that the two of them were not yet visible amongst the irradiated desert haze.

“Not far now.” Mephiston spoke before turning to face the tiny mortal behind him. “Should be close enough for you to go on your own-“

In her hands she held a large ring of flowers, all carefully tied together in elaborate knots at their stems until they had formed a perfect circle. Her arms were extended, as if she were offering him her creation. The flowers did not have terribly much variety - none of Baal's flora did - but the Lord of Death still stood quite stunned at how many of them this baseline had managed to safely gather and keep in good condition.

“What’s this?” He asked, as he raised a curious eyebrow to convey interest in the item.

“A flower crown! You wear it on your head!” She exclaimed, her eyes lit with innocence and excitement at the opportunity to present him with a gift.

Mephiston reached out to take the circlet of flowers from the baseline’s hand, but hesitated for a moment before he pulled his hand back inward and rested it at his side. “I am no royalty, baseline.” He claimed, stern but not unkind.

“Hmm,” She hummed and dropped her head in disappointment. Her expression fell for only a moment before her eyes lighting up near immediately “A flower halo, then, since you’re one of the emperor’s angels!”

“More fitting, I suppose.” He replied before extending his hands again to grab the halo that she quickly snatched away. A playful grin teased at her lips as she looked him in his deep and sunken eyes.

“Can I…?" She began.

“You are asking me to kneel?” He asked, and earned a small nod from her. His eyebrows arched in mild surprise at both the implication and the audacity. “I cannot-“

“I won’t tell a soul, my lord.” She promised, eyes still sparkling with genuine excitement and something akin to honor.

He sighed and shook his head as a slight hint of embarrassment flashed briefly across his usually stoic features. With a deep breath, he dropped to one knee and then onto the other. His armor purred underneath his robe as his knees moved to touch the sands of Baal. He bowed his head to a height that was within reach of the baseline in front of him, and the humility he felt clawed at his very soul.

She took only one tentative step forward before he heard her nervous hummingbird heart start pounding with nervousness, and he felt the delicate flowers make contact with his scalp. The halo was a perfect fit, as was the tenderness he felt in her gaze as he raised his head to resume eye contact with her. Without a word or warning, she gently cupped both sides of his gaunt face and pressed her lips delicately against his own.

She backed away near immediately, a mischievous smile covering her face as she bowed deeply to him before giggling at his stunned state, With a sudden burst of energy, she turned and began to sprint back to the village before he regained awareness of what had occurred.

Mephiston still sat kneeling in the sand, but his jaw had fallen slack, and his lips slightly parted to reveal the tips of fangs that hid behind them. He had not felt this many uncontrolled thoughts race through his mind since he had crossed the rubicon primaris.

He had been kissed?

The moment his thoughts finally settled, it had become his turn to allow a rare smile at something. For a moment, the Lord of Death swore he had felt his heart become a little softer, and though he hated feeling surprised he did not feel that this in particular was unwelcome. He wondered if Sanguinius had heard his mind's silent pleas for a taste of what the Sanguinor experienced from baselines. Perhaps even the angel knew that it would not be unfair to allow him this one small kindness.

She turned her head over her shoulder to face him one last time as she walked away, and he allowed his eyes to emit their powder blue light as he spoke into the warp, a silently whispered "I hope we meet again" that he prayed she too could hear.

Solspina's Scribellum✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

@astrohymn @moodymisty @undeaddream

@kit-williams @lemon-russ @egrets-not-regrets

(please comment to be added/removed from my taglist !!)

[threepandas]

Bad End: In Bad Faith

Summoning spells hurt.

Reality? It doesn't want to let you go. Whether you see it or not, you are attached. Part of the very fabric of the universe. Your atoms blending into the mess that is creation, on a level so small, that the human eye can not possibly catch it. Where you begin and end? Doesn't. Not really.

We are part of a tapestry, incomprehensible in scope. Mere designs. Details. Parts of it's ever sprawling beauty and horror. And? Woven in as we are? Part of it, as we are?

It does not want to let go.

Will, in fact, FIGHT not to let go. To Summon? Is an unnatural act. Many, foolishly, believe it's not. But... that is because they mistake Transportation magics with Summoning. With swapping a design's location upon the weave... with ripping it OUT.

In one? You take what is not yours. In the other? You're just rearranging what's there.

Nature (and indeed, the very Gods themselves) abhor Summonings, along with the vacuums they create. So, one must ask; How could they be called "Holy"? Such a painful, unnatural, divinely detested thing? Who in their right mind, would EVER do such a thing? Would cross the very Gods, as Summon in Their Name?

King's of course.

High Priests of the Holiest of Temples. Rich in gold and jewels, power and influence. Full of decadence and the surety of their own pure, pure souls. So much BETTER then the masses. So much HIGHER then the rabble. Poisoned on their own twisted faith. When given the choice between their God and Power? Faith and Fortune?

They would not be able to hear their God screaming, were he to stand right in front of them. But of course, they act in HIS Name.

I can feel it. Day in and day out. He looks upon his so called "Chosen" and is SICK.

Summoning hurts. My body, my soul, torn and stretch between to places. Until something gave. Were it not for the mercy of My God? I would have arrive at this end in chunks. A paste! Shredded beyond comprehension, killed beyond even mortal flesh. My very SOUL would have-!

The Universe SCREAMED as I was torn out of it. Like a fist full of fabric, made of person, of living flesh and bone, was gored out of a living thing. It was a disembowling. A calculated mauling. All burning light and tearing void. Chanting voices that dragged like hooking chains.

I... I can't even remember what I was doing that day. The sheer pain of it all? Overwhelms everything else in my memories. Left me delirious and weak. A puppet to be hoisted up and declared holy. A success. Stripped of my old clothes and anointed in oils and silks, finery and holy things.

A Holy Maiden.

In response, of course, to the King's Holy Maiden. Which was supposedly delivered by the God of Shining Light. She is very... perky, I am told. A plucky and endearing child. For all she is treated as some woman grown. She... she means well, even as she blunders through messes of her own creation. It is easy to tell. But all told? Anyone can tell you. She sounds... young. So very young.

Gods, what is she even DOING here? What are either of us? Every day, I can only pray the girl is safe. Because? I know. I know, I can not help her.

I am trapped.

She is trapped.

Whether she realizes it or not. Can see past the pretty smiles and fancy set dressing, to the unrelenting iron bars she can't escape. Though her chains are gilded and far longer then my own. She is a prop, a tool, in the hands of power. We both are. And neither of us asked to be, were given a choice. No... no we were simply taken from our homes.

Sometimes...? I catch the edges of something familiar. Beyond the Temple that is my cage. Hints of news or bits of gossip. When Worshipers or servants don't notice me nearby. I think? Possibly. We may have landed in an Otome game, her and I. But I can not be certain. It may simply be the only framework I have, for situations like this.

I wonder what my role is, in all this. If I even have one. Since I am kept like a trinket and holy trophy. Adored but not obeyed. No purpose beyond my supposed Holiness. Worshipped AT in the place of the God they know damn well they have angered. Though, through out all this? And, out of all of them? Worst, of all of them? Is the man who... who covets me.

There really is no other word for it, with the way he behaves. What else could it one call it? As he haunts the gilded cage he has created. The way his eyes track me, obsessive and cataloging, predatory and hunting. Picking apart my every action for meaning, for preference.

Trying to pry from me, my every thought and desire. As if to crack open my mind and read it's secrets. As though observing some sweet little creature, in it's natural habitat; And not his prisoner, in the pretty little cage he had made.

Forcing me to choose, again and again, between pretending not to notice? And engaging once again with my captor. Knowing all the while, if I so much as smile? Dared to so much as soften my expression?

I would be flooded, by whatever had caught me eye.

A lovely flower? Every room would be choked by them. Buried by them. The gardens filled and filled, until I begged for change. A good meal? I would get nothing else. Over and over, until all joy was stripped of it. Until I was sick of it. Could no longer stand the sight of it. Clothing, books, or paintings? Piles fit to beggar nations.

But the gods forbid, I EVER smile at people. Oh no. They were unworthy, you see.

The Grand Priest? Did not like when the filthy, unworthy, sacrilegious masses, dared to touch HIS Most Holy Maiden Of The God's. Or when I noticed them. Looked at any of them too long. Was "forced" to acknowledge they even existed. Gods forbid speaking to them! A sermon to the faithful was one thing! That could be allowed, if they purified themselves throughly, but the unwashed masses?

Gods, No.

Absolutely no such sacrilege would take part on HIS watch! By his word, his decree from on high, it was verboten.

It was...

Unquestionably, I knew, it was the antithesis of the Gentle Dark. That very God that had held my soul together. Through his unnatural summoning; That Very God, he SUPPOSEDLY swore too? Worshipped? Everything I prayed too. Reached my soul out too, in His kindness? For just a moment's escape? That very God.

From my God, to whom I prayed. Who anchored me, in these uncertain waters. All I could feel was His concern. For me, whom he could do little to aid. And His disgust. At what was being done in His name. As though rot had been smeared upon His flesh, vile and abhorrent. He recoiled, sickened, reaching for the safety of distant, faithful halls.

"Praying again, most Holy?" Came from the shadows, cool and soft. A pleasant voice to match a pleasant appearance. As though that was all that held meaning. "Even in your diligence and purity, you can not live on prayer alone, most Holy. I am afraid we will have to end you prayers for the day. So that you may eat. This humble servant has brought you offerings to choice from..."

He trailed off meaningfully. Wanted me to ask. A favorite game of his, this little trick. A verbal set up. Prompting you to ask this or that, engage him just a bit more, here or there. Get dragged into talking to him, dispite not wanting anything to do with him. He dangles bait. Shiny and enticing, just within reach. Hoping you'll take it.

Like a fishing lure.

No, actually, I don't want to know what dinner is. I, in fact, SHALL ignore why you call them "offerings". Yes, I DO plan to refuse to engage. Grey wall. Nonresponse, just all the way down. Boring, really.

You may be able to keep me here? But by the Gentle Dark, I CAN make this as miserable for you as possible. There shall be no Happy Little Family charades. No "content within my cage." No playing along to appease you.

(Quitely, but with FEELING, I say onto you! Get FUCKED.)

"A night of contemplations, I see. Understandable. Heavy are the shoulders that hold the heavens." That's Blasphemy, you heretical BASTARD. With a capital "B". To BOTH! No. NO. Do not engage. It's what he wan-! "You will be relieved, then, to know we are one step closer to disposing of that heretical whore."

I twitched. Hands squeezing each other until they were a white knuckled grip, to keep me from lashing out. Breathing in deep and slow, to try and fill my lungs with patience. The strength needed, not to not lash out. My jaw clenching hard as it battled the words snarling to escape.

(You leave that CHILD THE FUCK ALONE, YOU CREEP. She is sixteen! Seventeen AT BEST! She SHOULDN'T BE HERE! Should be safe. Meeting up with friends or chatting about interests. As she lounges, safe, at HOME. Going to school! Not getting dragged into politics! Tarted up and told to play soilder! Made a FUCKING RELIGIOUS LEADER!!!)

(Inside me, the Gentle Dark seethes and howls. Who is this man? To try and kill a Protected Child of The God's own Brother? What is Dark without Light? Light without Dark? Who are THEY to suggest the gods want anything but Balance?!)

Rising to my feet, I can not stay here. If I do, I may try and bludgeon my captor with an alter bowl. Desperately careful not to take my rage out on the alter before me, I run through the steps to finish my prayers. Gently. Gently. My God does NOT deserve misdirected wrath. Through gritted teeth, I force my breathe to be even. With tense muscles, I refuse to so much as look at him.

I DESPISE.

"How beautiful."

Like vile spiders and the sweeping prick of claws, his foul admiration sweeps over me. Disgusting. Hateful. Abhorrent and unholy. It is as though, the colder I become? The angrier and more disdainful? The more captivated, he becomes.

Twisting and twisting me, into some sort of disdainful god for him to worship. Abusing this soft house of benevolence, to make his self-harm somehow Holy. Coveting the Divine even as he refuses Them. It is... horrifying. A soul deep wrong.

A kinder woman would seek to understand "WHY?"...

I am not that kinder woman, I think.

"You are angry that I failed you, when all you ask of me is worship. Unity." He declares to my back. Once again projecting what he wants to believe, regardless of what I do or do not say. I have already given up trying. He lives in his own delusion, prefers it really. "Forgive me."

Ignoring him, I begin to walk away. Let him monolog in peace. Talk to the Idea of me, if he's so desperate! He can paint my face upon a wall, for all he needs my ACTUAL input. Sadly, however, I do not get far. With a swish of silks, knees hitting marble, my skirt train is caught in covetous hands. Jerking me to a stop. I turn.

"Ah..." He is kneeling, as though praying at my feet, my skirt's edge pressed to his face. His voice is... almost a sigh. Monotone, yet dancing the edge of obscene. "Oh, Most Holy, forgive your most loyal dog. Look only at me, I serve only thee, does my worship not please you?"

"Do you want more?"

He looked up, eyes meeting mine. There was fire and death there. Madness and burning. Religious zealotry churned and twisted into obsession, with his self made God. What did he even see? When he looked at me? It was almost... ironic. That the Grand Priest of the Gentle Dark, would BURN with such Scorching.

The Priests of the Shining Light would have noticed. Would have warned him. Helped him. No doubt why he avoided them. The monsters of their Gods, clouded his mind... and yet? And YET?

He was a Grand Priest.

No beast could take his soul, that HE did not ALLOW.

He was a monster of his own becoming. I wondered... in this moment... was THIS how he gained the power to Summon me? What damned DEALS did he MAKE? Does he seek to corrupt me? Turn me from the Gentle Dark to the Endless Dark? Something crueler? Colder still?

Disgust. Refusal. Rage.

"Oh." His voice wavered, obscene as he sucked in air, even as his eyes widened up at me. Hands reflexively clenching at my skirts. A jagged grin, of too many teeth, slowly carved its way across his face. Transfixed. Unhinged. As he shuddered.

"Magnificent, my Goddess. So Pure. So Clean. Mine and mine alone. I alone, am Worthy. Your most loyal soldier. Your most DEVOUT worshiper. I will give you the World. Everything, my queen. My lady. My Master of the heavens. Ha ha ha! Mine."

"All mine!"

"Amen."

[ataraxiaspainting]

Icarus.

Yan (Emperor) Zhongli x F Reader.

Synopsis: You were taught ever since you opened your eyes to never go against your god. So why do you wish now that you have never opened them at all?

Warnings: Yandere themes, major power imbalances, manipulation, future forced marriage, some violence/gore, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 3k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Little Dark Age by MGMT

As the World Caves In by Matt Maltese

The Other Side Of Paradise by Glass Animals

All Eyes On Me by Bo Burnham

Space Song by Beach House

Murders by Miracle Musical

Tongues & Teeth by The Crane Wives

Teacher’s Pet by Melanie Martinez

A Pearl by Mitski

Isabella’s Lullaby by Takahiro Obata

*~*~*~*

“‘You know that I love you.’ And despite herself, Coraline nodded. It was true. The other mother loved her. But she loved Coraline as a miser loves money, or a dragon loves its gold. In the other mother's button eyes, Coraline knew that the other mother loved her as a possession, nothing more, a tolerated pet whose behavior was no longer amusing.” – Neil Gaiman, Coraline

*~*~*~*

There is no sin greater than to be a bird.

To be a bird is to be devoid of all burdens, soaring above all who are shackled by them, like a warden overseeing prisoners, or the sweetest and ripest peaches up on the highest of branches so no one can reach it. They can go anywhere, birds, with the winds at their call, the very embodiment of freedom itself, something your god has taught all his people to be wary of. Freedom can be a blessing, he told one of his counselors once, but it can also cause humans to be too conceited. There is no sin greater than to be a bird because all others will be envious. Envy is also a sin, one so common that even Archons are said to possess it. Sin gives birth to more sin, more suffering, and thus only the original that birthed it all shall be punished by Celestia’s fury. 

There is no greater sin than to be a bird, so the gods put in place cages, made to make those trapped by gold and chains and other things entirely. Birds who are not lured into such traps are dealt with by lightning, making them fall back down to the ground below, the last thing they see is the very sky that punished them. The sky, the stars, the moon, the sun… the entire world will be against you when you are a bird.

It will be that way until you die. The world hates birds and the way they fly and soar. Birds are meant for cages, or to be struck down with their corpses made into trophies.

There is no title greater than to be a hunter.

The sin; to be a bird, freedom… the title; to be a hunter, despotism.

To shoot, to stab, to twist until the prey bursts, is the way of someone whose greatest sin is doing good for this world.

To bleed, to be trapped, to be killed and put on display for all to see, that is what a bird’s purpose truly is, in the eyes of the divine.

They are different, quite so, like different ripples in lakes of mixed blood and water.

You can almost hear them, can’t you?

Celestia favors the strong. Celestia despises the weak. It makes sense to most people, those who were born into power be it money made from blood or strength made from blood. They don’t see the way the world works. The way flies feast upon rotting meat and are soon to be eaten by something bigger. It makes sense for most people, but not for you. Despite everything you have ever been taught from word of mouth, life on the streets teaches you otherwise. For everything you have endured, you have learned that you are not weak. In any case, quite the opposite.

You don’t pray anymore with everyone else, as they keep reciting such things over and over again at the states positioned throughout Liyue as if the emperor would listen to them. 

“O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all!” They would hold hands with their bodies being placed in circles around the sculptures. They close their eyes altogether, to not see the sacrifices trapped between them at the monuments, the last thing they see is the Lord of Geo’s face, looking down at them with a stone-cold glare laced with eerie delight. “O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all! O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all!”

To be praying and to be preying are two quite different things, but to the people of Liyue, there is no difference. Blood seeps into the earth all the same, regardless of who sheds it. So, as evidence that the people of Liyue do indeed bow down to Celestia’s every whim, they bring birds of all kinds and steal them of all they have. Their feathers make for excellent clothing, their bones make for stellar weaponry, and their feet make for charms of good luck. Celestia only smiles down upon the strong, after all. Celestia despises freedom because, without the divine, humans would have nothing to leash them onto rationality and laws. Perhaps that is why Mondstadt is very much in chaos now. Their god was said to have betrayed Celestia by giving his people forbidden knowledge of how nature originally ran its course, causing an uproar among the citizens. 

No one knows what happened to the god of Mondstadt after that.

Was he smitten down? Did his people turn on him? No one in Liyue knows for certain, as people of Mondstadt are forbidden from entering the land said to be made up of the purest of gold.

“O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all!”

That is the first thing you hear when you wake up, huddled in a corner to prevent yourself from getting even more wet from the rain. You assume that maybe it will be the last thing you hear when you close your eyes for good.

*~*~*~*

You grew up in Qiaoying Village and, once you grew up, got exiled from Qiaoying Village. You stood out, which no one saw in a good light. You were a mischievous, rule-breaking child, always stealing Jadevein Tea Eggs and both tea and tea sets made of fine porcelain. Your older brother taught you lessons far too valuable and unique for the traditionalist settings of Qiaoying Village, lessons like how to pick the elderly’s door’s locks, how to properly identify which pockets had the most Mora, and how to make alleyways a labyrinth for those who chase you.

Your older brother, though, did not partake in thievery himself. You suppose that might have been the first warning sign of many more to come. He made you, a child about half his age, do his dirty work for him. He always hoarded the rewards afterward, and if you got caught or he got caught with whatever treasure you had given him, he would pretend to scold you for going against the way of the Qiaoying. He said it was just pretend, but that look in his eyes still haunts you to this very day. As you got older, though, you got dumber. You crossed a line with everyone. You decided to steal from a Fontainian duke.

It was a foolish decision. Fontainians are known for their high sense of justice, and their tunnel vision when it comes to crimes and punishments. But you were just a child, were you not?

You couldn’t help it. You were just a child. That is what you told yourself then, and it is what you tell yourself now.

No one helped you then, and no one helps you now. Hell, it would be a miracle, a blessing from Celestia, if your older brother came to Liyue Harbor to visit you. But he never loved you, did he? He never loved you, and you never hated him until you saw him for what he truly is. A petty servant of Madam Mei with a spine thinner than that of a twig. He was a coward then, and likely still a coward now. Perhaps it would have been noble of him, while you were still an infant, to use that pocket knife he always carried around. It would have been better for you, for you to not know anything you know about him now. 

But he was a coward, your older brother. The person who taught you everything about thievery is also now the person who taught you how important it is to keep your cards close. Life on the streets calls for both, you suppose. Liyue Harbor may not be the friendliest for the homeless, but at the very least it had pockets to swipe into when no one was looking. Old habits die hard. You ended up relying on every memory of the past, no matter how bitter or how deceivingly sweet they were. You bore it. You bore it all. Every memory, every fragment of a lie, and every fragment of a half-truth. Life is never so simple after all, is it?

Your life was never perfect, and therefore still is not now. But you know deep in your heart that you would prefer this life over seeing your older brother’s face ever again.

But now, with eyes brighter than amber staring above you as you lay, your arm broken, you wish that your brother had taught you some fighting skills instead of everything else he taught you.

But he was a coward, and so are you.

To be fair, though, he never met the emperor and never thought that he would. So did you. No one in Qiaoying Village did, most likely. It was so far from the proclaimed harbor made of gold and trader’s blood and prayers. This was where the emperor lived, in his castle in the mountains surrounding Lingju Pass and Mount Tianheng. It was made up of the finest gold and wood and jewels. Only the best for the emperor, while people like you get mere pebbles. That is why, when you saw yet another stranger in a white cloak roaming around the alleyways, you attempted to strike. Your mistake.

Your mistake.

You were on the ground in an instant, your arm breaking so loudly an elderly man on his deathbed could hear it. 

The stranger’s eyes glittered like gold.

Frozen gold, perhaps, with how he was staring down at you with such disappointment.

So, he stared down at you.

You stared down at your arm.

You should have known better. But you are just someone trying to live, are you not? It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. But that white cloak the man is wearing with the sigil of geo on the back, one of the few symbols of the emperor himself, should have made you not attempt to pickpocket him. You should have known better. You really should have known better. Should you apologize? You are already as good as dead though, aren’t you?

Does a death sentence await you?

Life? Death? Prison? Life. Death. Prison.

Escape.

You have to escape.

But the emperor seems to know what you are doing, what you are planning.

So he stops you with a simple hand raised, and pillars of geo appear out of nowhere, trapping you in the corner. Now there is nowhere to run.

He stares down at you.

You stare down at your feet, all mangled up from a life made of thievery and poverty.

He doesn’t speak. Neither do you. You prefer it that way.

You are in a cage. But he is not.

Please.

Please don’t kill me. 

Please.

*~*~*~*

Is it a sin to indulge? Perhaps it is, perhaps it is not. Perhaps it depends. Is the indulgence centered in reality or fantasy? This escape attempt, perhaps, is both.

Like the many that came before it, the only sounds you can hear is the rain, the water falling from the glass windows like teardrops, and sometimes you can swear you hear the sound of someone weeping. Despite everything you have gone through though, you do not weep with them, whoever they are. You only keep stepping on ahead for a brighter future, one where you sneak off to Sumeru, a land that prioritizes knowledge over riches. You’d have a better life there than here, you think. Anywhere but here you would run off to actually, even if it was Snezhnaya. 

You are treated well, too well.

You still don’t know why instead of throwing you in the dungeons, Morax placed your unconscious body in one of the many, many guest rooms that were spread about in his castle.

You are treated far too well, almost to the point that it is maddening. Everything is so perfect, from the morning birds outside your window that wake you up every morning when it just so happens to be time for breakfast to the hairbrush you use to put your hair up when it is time to sleep, the design intricately laced with jade and topaz. Perfect, perfect, perfect. It’s maddening, sickening, how perfect everything is. You wish he had just put you in a cell because at least then everything would not have been so planned out for you, even the type of flowers you saw in the gardens that week. 

“Damn it all…”

In your opinion, the clothes you received today were more intricate than usual. The sleeves are puffed and transition from white to a deep teal color. The dress itself showcases delicate lace patterns of glaze lilies around the waist and wrists, while the skirt is impractically long for any running. Strangely, the inside of the skirt features a constellation pattern, though it seems to be a design meant for your eyes alone. The purpose of this starry sky motif remains unclear. The dress, like everything else, appears flawless and fits you perfectly, almost as if it was tailored specifically for you. Given Morax's wealth, you can't help but entertain the possibility. However, the overwhelming perfection of it all borders on madness. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect, so damn perfect. 

Today, you were not given shoes, presumably due to the rain and the consequent cancellation of your garden visit with Morax, where you typically indulge in tea and wine. As you approached the staircase leading to the dining room, however, the guards obstructed your path. Their actions were gentle, but their words were not. They formed a human barricade, preventing your descent. One guard clicked their tongue disapprovingly, while the other remained silent. Perhaps they harbored some disdain towards you. The servants in this establishment either treated you with utmost care or completely disregarded your presence, so it was not entirely surprising that the guards displayed a semblance of dislike.

The real surprise was you not being allowed to go to the dining room to eat.

“The emperor wants you to stay in your room for the time being. He shall see you shortly there.”

So, you went back, albeit muttering curses along the way. Due to your lack of shoes and the guards not even allowing you to go downstairs, this escape attempt is as short-lived as a moth flying much too close to a flame.

As you were told, Morax came in his usual attire, black and brown robes with a geo sigil on the back. 

“...”

“I have been told that you have been getting a bit too curious with your wandering.”

Ah, straight to the point, it would seem. 

There is no point trying to beat around the bush when it comes to Morax. “It is not like there is anything else to do here.”

He sits beside you on the bed, not too close but not too far either. A perfect balance. “I can give you other activities to do if you would like. I can also answer some questions you have since you’ll be living here from now on.”

“...This isn’t temporary…” You look down at the arm he broke, a time which feels like a millennium ago. “Am I being charged?” Your question is quietly said. “Aren’t thieves simply sent to cells for a few moons?”

His chuckle was unexpected, causing a slight surprise. Morax, who was typically expressionless, wore a smile on his face. Despite the possibly good intentions behind it, the sight and sound were unsettling and made your skin crawl.

“...You don’t tell me anything.” You whisper under your breath. That much is clear. Despite Morax's little attempts to conceal it, his secrecy is unmistakable. You can't help but feel like a naive child stating the obvious.

“You are here for multiple reasons. For instance… you remind me of someone. As such, you must have questions, if you are anything like her.” His eyes glaze over you, from the top of your head where your hair is half put up with a hairpin to the anklet just hovering over your right foot. “All humans are born with an innate sense to pry. I won’t judge, as I am an Archon.” Are his words heartfelt? “Through my veins flow gold, but yours flow with sanguine, life, and desires.” 

His hand reaches forward, but he does not touch you. “You must see yourself as better than us because of this. Am I correct?”

“My feelings are not as monochrome as they seem to you. They are complex, quite so. But you are right, in some regard.”

“This is why I cannot stand the so-called divine.”

“Another reason as to why you are here. You are a sleeper of such, and I intend to help you open your eyes to the truth.”

You look at his eyes, seeing all the horrors within their depths.

The emperor known as Morax possesses eyes of pure gold, along with attractive features and pale, rosy lips that curl into a sickly sweet smile. Your body instinctively reacts, urging you to flee before your mind can fully comprehend the situation. However, your brain, awakening and analyzing the situation, is interrupted by the overpowering force of instinct, echoing the same warning as your body: the charming smile is a mere facade, reminiscent of something unsettlingly artificial. It is akin to a sculpture with painted skin and eyes or a doll with exaggerated, intricate features. This man, with his literal golden eyes, his potentially persuasive words, and his captivating yet unnerving countenance, is someone you cannot trust.

Desperate to escape, you attempt to run, only to find that arms and hands, seemingly made of stone, emerge from the walls, gripping and restraining your own. Two of these strong hands ascend, slithering towards the center of your back, forcefully pushing you down into a bow, while you remain compelled to gaze upwards. Your focus remains fixated solely on the emperor's eyes, observing the eloquent patterns of gold within them.

The caress of their touch is tender upon your cheeks, unlike solid ones that demand for you to stay.

“You shall become my consort and see the gates of Celestia for yourself. Humans are made to worship, after all. The divine are made to simply awaken those who have strayed off the path of destiny.”

*~*~*~*

To possess the gift of sight, encompassing all, is the gravest transgression one can commit. Thus, those winged creatures who lack this awareness are banished to the depths of the earth, their vision, their literal eyes stripped away until their cries reverberate to the surface, where the emperor Morax shall pronounce the ultimate verdict.

[kiame-sama]

Omega Marechi (Yandere!Upper-Moons x Omega!Reader x Yandere!Muzan)

Warnings; yandere, multiple yandere, stalking, mention of violence, mention of social imbalance, my abo au (less than 1000 omegas world wide and omegas are a commodity of sorts), omega reader, abo social ladder, abo societal structure, unfair situations, instinct manipulation, kidnapping, threat of murder, blood, violence, mention of human consumption, demons, female bodied reader, female reader pronouns (let me know if y'all want a male version).

(It's a personal headcannon of mine that omegas are short & chubby, so very soft and squishy)

(Also, let me know if y'all want a continuation of this, I have a certain idea involving stockades I have been interested in trying out)

~~~~~~~~

Deep within the winding surfaces and ever changing interior of a fortress wreathed in darkness, demons began to gather. Though they were few in number, each demon had their own impressive strengths and abilities that set them apart from the many other members of their brood. Even with their combined presence and strength, their master stood above them in every way possible.

The king of demons, he who sired every other demon, stood watching his upper ranked generals as they gathered beneath him. Short dark hair seemed to swallow all light in the inky abyssal color, bright red eyes glinting like lit lanterns on the darkest of nights. His fair skin unblemished and so smooth it could be mistaken for the marble of a true artisan's finest work. Truly a vision of a true apex alpha with the beauty of a divine being.

The six generals that gathered were supposed to be without company and solely focused on their sire, yet one was not alone. Next to the top general of the king's army was a large rectangular box shape that was draped in heavy fabrics to conceal what may be held within. The fabrics seemed to be soaked in a heavy perfume mixed with the hint of an unusually appealing scent that taunted the senses.

"What have you brought, Kokushibou?"

The deep and commanding voice of the demon king rumbled out with a tint of curiosity in his tone. Where he expected quite a bit from his upper moons, even he had to admit that the actions of his top general were odd. It was not often that the upper moons did something that surprised him- and usually was met with a swift reprimand- but his curiosity had been peaked by the abnormal behavior.

Without saying a word, Kokushibou gripped the heavy fabric and quickly pulled it away, revealing what had been concealed. Beneath the cloth lay an iron cage- much like what an exotic beast would be transported in- with blankets lining the bottom of the cage for cushion. The cage itself wasn't very interesting when compared to what lay within.

Laying bound in the iron cage was a woman, her (h/c) locks strewn around her head and her (s/c) flesh looked incredibly plush and no doubt was soft to the touch. A delicate and fine silk kimono wrapped around her bound form, even that which held her was made of the expensive materials. Her eyes were covered in a long silk ribbon, mouth held shut by an intricate golden muzzle, her arms cuffed together with similarly intricate cuffs in front of her and lower legs cuffed together.

A woman- no matter how decorated- wasn't much to crow about, but the pungent scent that had been smothered by the perfumes was now free and quickly reached those nearby. There was a visible change in the way the other upper moons stood, their nostrils flaring and eyes fixed on the soft woman as they contemplated what she was. The scent reached Muzan last, but he knew immediately what was being presented to him, though he could scantly believe what his senses were telling him.

"No," Douma started, his multi colored eyes wide in disbelief, "that's impossible. Omegas aren't real! It must be a trick."

"Looks real to me. Smells real too. Actually," Akaza sniffed, looking curiously at the bound female, "she smells like a marechi."

A soft whimper came from within the cage, the female inside moving and seemingly trying to pull away from her binds. The muzzle secured on her kept her from speaking and muffled her sounds as she responded to the voices around her. Blindly she turned her head towards the sound of Akaza speaking, seemingly trying to understand where she was and who she was with.

"She was being transported as cargo on a train. From her scent, it was made clear to me that she is an Omega and a marechi. She has no mating marks present on her body. The humans transporting her were on their way to deliver her to slayers, a gift from a small village of fools."

Muzan silently descended from where he had been standing above the upper moons, approaching the cage curiously. The other demons watched in interest as their sire crouched, observing the bound female that had been presented to him. He had not encountered an omega, even in his long life, so seeing such a rare and unusual being in a cage was surreal. Truly, he had thought omegas were just another myth created by humans.

He reached a finger between the bars, his sharp nail gently scraping over the exposed neck of the omega. Naturally, she responded with a fearful sound at the feeling of something sharp against her neck, trying to writhe away from the sensation. The obvious fear was accompanied by an intense scent that prodded at their minds to defend the soft woman from whatever may be causing her distress.

Muzan observed the struggling of the delicacy he had been presented with, red eyes gleaming and unwavering. After a moment of simply watching the omega struggle, he reached his hands forward to grip the cage bars. With one flex, the metal groaned beneath his hands, crumpling like sand and bending out of shape. One of his hands held the cage still as he ripped the bar off of the cage, pulling out several more until he could access the omega.

The loud sound of the metal bending and crushing had clearly upset the omega who let out a muffled scream into the muzzle, body twisting and writhing to escape the frightening sound and its source. Another scream escaped her as one of Muazan's hands gripped the back of the her kimono, dragging her out of the remnants of the cage. A sharp scent made him freeze, the taunting ambrosia of marechi blood filled his nostrils as he moved to examine the omega.

Sitting on her cheek was the smallest of cuts, blood slowly beading along the line of the slice. Within the second Muzan noticed the small injury, a greedy mouth formed along his hand. The elongated tongue quickly stretching out and slowly laving over the gathered blood with an apparent groan of satisfaction rumbling in his chest from the taste.

His pleasured sound only seemed to frighten the omega more, whimpering out and beginning to cry from the terror. It was understandable, she had been in the cage for an unknown time and now was listening to the sound of an unknown assailant flavor her blood. With a quick motion the blindfold was pulled away, revealing (e/c) eyes that were filled with delicate tears and horror.

Her gaze became fixed on the bright red eyes of the predator in front of her, body falling completely still. Much like the way an injured fawn would freeze upon seeing the open jaws of a bear. The body of the soft omega seemed to curl in on itself, as if she were trying to seem as small as possible all without looking away.

He lifted his free hand towards her and gripped her ornate metal muzzle despite her frightened sounds and slow shaking of her head back and forth. She cringed and closed her eyes tightly as his hand gripped the clasp of the muzzle that held it on.

For a moment, things seemed to stand still in baited anticipation of what the demon king would do next. All upper moons keenly awaited their sire's next move as it would determine the fate of the omega they all were interested in. Wanting to get their hands on her if he allowed her to live, or wanting a piece of her if he chose to consume her.

A soft click of metal could be heard in the profound silence as the clasp of the muzzle was disconnected.

~~0~~

You warily watched the frightening man remove the muzzle you wore, seeing how hungrily he looked at you the entire time. He seemed to be contemplating you, much like many others would when first coming into contact with you. The man- or monster, would be more accurate- suddenly grinned, hand gripping your neck and slowly lifting you up.

Even with how you struggled, the man seemed to have no problem holding you until he was fully standing. His expression became more fierce as the veins in his face became more pronounced, tongue slowly dragging over his lips. After a moment he lowered you so your feet were on the ground, no longer holding you off the ground but still holding you in place.

"You are a truly unfortunate human. Luckily for you, I intend to keep you for the time being. You staying alive or not will be determined by your actions."

~~~~~~~~

You had been taken to a large ornate bed that no doubt belonged to the demonic alpha that broke your chains but left your cuffs. From the way he stared at you, you felt like you were being appraised much in the way one would appraise a meal. A yelp escaping your lips as you were thrown down on the soft surface.

In seconds you felt the silk that held your clothing together rip open, the ornate kimono falling open. Your body was completely left exposed to the intense gaze of the man, you had been dressed for meeting several new mates who were top members of the demon slayers. Instead it seemed the demons found you and decided to keep you for the time being.

Part of you was terrified to fight back as you didn't wish to anger the demon that took you to bed. Based off of his scent, you knew you were dealing with an alpha of great strength and willpower. The alpha himself seeming to be above other alphas that you had caught the scents of whenever one would pass through your village. He was clearly the one others answered to as they had gotten out of his way rather quickly when he decided to drag you to his chambers.

You tried to keep your thighs pressed together to give yourself some kind of protection, but the demon was quick to pry them open. His gaze was intense and you felt your body warm in response to how he stared at your exposed figure. A whimper from you seemed to break the trance he was in as his eyes flicked up to look at you for several seconds.

"And still, you are afraid. Tell me, Omega, did the humans you lived amongst even give you a name, or have you always been Omega?"

"My name," you struggled to keep the fear out of your voice as you answered the alpha demon, "it's (Y/n), (L/n)(Y/n)."

"(Y/n)? I am Kibutsuji Muzan, king of demons. You have gained my attention, (Y/n), quite dangerous indeed. I expect you to be an obedient omega, understand?"

"Ye-yes, I understand, Alpha."

"Good."

You whined softly as one of his hands came up to palm your soft chest as if appraising it like fruit. His bright red eyes gleaming in interest as he observed you trying to sit still for him and let him continue what he wanted. Clearly you were a high tier omega as you were so obedient and did exactly what the alpha told you to do.

The village you grew up in must have trained you to be a good omega, taking the word of an alpha as law. In any case, he was quite pleased to have such a treasure in his grasp. He vaguely considered keeping the omega for himself, but he knew the way the upper moons stared, even Akaza showed clear interest.

An omega would certainly be a unique reward and incentive to push the upper moons further. Beyond just that, using the unique human omega sent could throw off the slayers in such a way there would be no one left to stand against the demon king.

[littleglutton]

per aspera ad astra

— "through suffering to the stars"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Astra, a young god, who saw you for a fleeting moment and instantly fell harder and faster than any other.

You were the first mortal he ever met.

Astra, a devoted god, who loved you deeply enough to give you his own heart so that you could stay by his side when he learned your mortal heart wasn't strong enough.

Astra, a broken god, who lost you too soon because even the gods could not stop the threads of fate from weaving their tragic web.

Astra, a mourning god, who broke the rules of foresight to find you again and watched in despair as you fell in love with another and not him.

Never again would it be him.

Astra, a desperate god, who sought to keep you, even if it meant keeping your sorrow and your disdain. Even as he witnessed his own fate of a love unfulfilled. Unrequited.

He would take your hatred over your absence.

Astra, a jealous god, who would mark each lover who would ever cross your path with tragedy and pain.

Astra, a bitter god, who gave an onerous gift to one who would love you in many lives, making sure that love would never bloom.

Astra, a petty god, who encouraged a young sea god to chase after a love that would doom his very people. 

Astra, a malevolent god, who answered the prayers of a desperate prince with a double-edged sword, offering him the path of his people's salvation, only to trap him in a gilded cage.

Astra, a spiteful god, who delivered the last dragon the catalyst of both his freedom and demise.

If he could never have you, no one else would.

Astra, a vengeful god, who tore the heavens apart to keep finding you through every rebirth and timeline, not truly understanding the chaos he brought to humanity's doorstep.

The deepspace tunnel was never an accident.

Astra, a fallen god, who was stripped of grace and reborn into a prison of human flesh; made to atone for everything he had wrought upon you and those who dared love you.

Astra, no longer a god, who had no memories of his past divinity, only an ache of rage and agony that manifest in the form of a relentless and destructive energy coursing through his entire being until he is bursting with it.

Astra, no longer a god, whose torment becomes the power of storms. Energy builds beneath his skin until even the air is charged with a metallic tang. With a surge, that energy becomes tangible, and lightning visibly cracks across his hands and fingers. The evol fills his eyes with a silvery, otherworldly glow.

Your very fear had become his strength. 

Astra, no longer a god, rails against his fate with every breath and fiber of his being, not knowing why it feels as if the weight of eons is crushing him into oblivion. All he knows is that for as long as he can remember, it felt as if he were born with a broken heart, with the jagged shards that were left digging themselves into his very soul.

He wishes he could rip them out, one by one.

Astra, no longer a god, who has yet to meet you in this life but has already begun the machinations of your destruction. He doesn't know you, doesn't understand why he does what he does, only that he must stop the eternal ache of the void in his chest from swallowing him whole. Whatever it takes to stop the pain, whatever he needs to do to fill the empty hollow, he vows to find it.

Time passes.

The search becomes an all-consuming obsession. One he builds his life around.

Always. 

Ever.

Astra, no longer a god, hears about a strange girl. Her heart is an anomaly, but it's strong. She survived the experiments. There's something there; an unseen power lying dormant in her heart.

If I take her heart, maybe I could survive too.

Astra, no longer a god, plays a pretend god.

He casts his web of chaos and destruction with your coveted heart at its center. Without ever meeting you, your life is slowly and meticulously picked apart by his hands. Tragedy befalls you again and again, close to breaking you.

Astra, the pretend god, shatters your family with a single, unfeeling order.

Bloomshore was never an accident.

This is enough to break you.

He plucks the one closest to you from the edge of death and offers him the chance to stand by your side again in exchange for control. 

He doesn't need to say it's control over you that he's after.

He learns your motives. Memorizes your tells. You move exactly where he wants you to be as if he positioned you into place himself like his very own doll. He can almost taste the victory of it filling the gaping maw where his heart should be.

He's so close now. The endgame is in sight. 

Everything is set.

Everything.

Ever…

“Will you love me forever?”

The words are whispered against his chest, softly, sweetly… but your voice is weak, fading. He can feel your life waning, slipping through his fingers like sand in the wind. He clings to you tightly, arms trying desperately to secure what could never be held. 

“Forever and ever and ever. For eternity. Until time itself turns my bones to dust and gives my very soul back to the stars, I will love you.”

Astra meets your eyes for the very first time in this life and remembers everything.

And so it seems, do you.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[salmon-vive]

“It worked…” Ford finds himself saying. He’s not sure why he feels surprised; of course it worked. He was divinely inspired by his Muse.

Perhaps he’s just become accustomed to having the things he wants snatched away at the last moment. Somewhere deep inside his heart, he thought it would happen again; the machine wouldn’t work, or his Muse wouldn’t appear.

But there he is.

*There he is.*

“Fordsy!” Will speaks, and Ford hears his voice for real, for the first time. The little triangle’s voice is laced with excitement that mirrors Ford’s own, and Ford feels a thrill of excitement surge through his body as he steps forward.

“My Muse…” Ford breathes out, reaching out to take Will’s hand. The shy muse looks positively bashful, but still rests his hand in Ford’s.

Will’s hand is soft, warm, and oh-so small; Ford can hold it in just two fingers. He rubs his thumb against the rough pads, then down between them, feeling the textured tufts that are almost, but not quite like fur.

“You saved me…” Will sniffs out, his big eye filling with tears. Ford feels his heart swell within him; his lovely, crybaby muse.

“Of course.” Ford reaches out gently, stroking his hand down Will’s side, and uses his thumb to wipe away a tear before it can fall. “I would go to any lengths for your sake.” Ford promises, bringing Will’s little paw to his lips gently, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. Ford looks up, and catches his muse looking at him with a big, trusting pupil. Will looks away quickly, the bricks around his eye darkening in something like a flush.

“We have to make sure there’s no side effects.” Will says, trying his very best to sound authoritative and confident. It doesn’t work, but it’s lovely to watch.

“Right…” Ford asks with a little frown, eyes sliding away from Will as he looks down. He isn’t looking forward to this part.

“Hey…” Will floats closer, placing his free hand on Ford’s cheek to tilt his head back up. “I’ll be alright… because you’ll take good care of me. Right? And once we know everything is safe…” Will’s eye curves in a gentle smile. “Then you can show me around your world! And together, we can help all of humanity.”

All of humanity. Right.

Despite a cold tendril of jealousy coiling in Ford’s stomach, Will’s excitement is infectious, and Ford finds himself smiling despite himself. He puts his hand over the paw on his cheek, and nods.

Hand in hand, scientist and muse cross the mostly empty lab and approach a simple looking birdcage. Ford had offered to make him something bigger, more luxurious, but Will didn’t want to waste more time. After all, he would only be in there for a little while. Plus, he could shrink down before entering—it would be plenty large.

“Fordsy… Thank you.” Will floats up close to Ford’s face, and presses a kiss to Ford’s temple. The scientist turns red, which makes Will laugh and do it again one more time. “Thank you for bringing me home.”

“Don’t thank me.” Ford says breathlessly, atill Will’s hands, pressing his forehead to Will’s surface. “It’s only natural I should bring you home… you belong with me.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Will laughs out, growing extra hands to pet at Ford’s hair so they don’t have to stop holding hands. “…I should stop stalling.”

“Is it totally necessary to lock you away?” Ford asks with a frown, even though he knows it is.

“It won’t be for long.” Will assures him, and slowly withdraws from Ford, his hands lingering for a moment. “As soon as we’ve addressed any potential side effects, and made sure you’re safe.”

Ford sighs, and reluctantly opens the door to the bird cage. Will squeezes his hands, and then lets go before shrinking down and floating into the little cage.

Ford closes the door, and the unicorn hair shines brightly for a moment before dimming down. Ford takes a key from his pocket, locks the door closed, and hangs the key around his neck like a necklace, the key landing against his heart.

As Ford looks down at the little triangle walking around the cage and stretching out his newly physical form, he feels something strange. For the first time in years, Ford feels a deep anxiety in his heart—an anxiety he’d always felt, but had become part of his very soul after he lost his brother and his future, is suddenly lifted.

No one, not even Will, can take his muse away from him now.

Y'all need to read this, this is my and everybody Christmas gift now

Dawg Will really putting all his trust in ford not knowing what he almost willingly got himself into, I need to throw up (positive) maybe a bit rushed but hope the drawing does justice to this amazing writting AAA

[cece693]

Day 3 of lestat pleaseee

Forever Muse

pairing: lestat de lioncourt x male human reader tags: lestat is readers muse, mentions of Claudia and Louis, thoughts of turning, lestat has a crush, no specific lestat was used for inspiration (can be seen as either the movie or show timeline)

The studio reeked of turpentine and linseed oil, a fragrant cocktail that clung to the air like an old, familiar ghost. You were accustomed to it, the scent of creation and frustration blending into one. Yet tonight, it seemed to mock you, curling into the corners of your mind as you stared at the canvas before you.

Another failure.

Lestat sat in his usual spot by the window, moonlight spilling over him like liquid silver. He was effortlessly ethereal, a living contradiction—sharp angles and soft curls, danger and beauty woven together in a way no mortal hand could replicate. You had tried, God knew you had tried, to capture that allure. The piercing eyes, the self-assured smirk, the way his every movement seemed to command the world to revolve around him. And yet, every brushstroke fell short.

He knew it, of course. How could he not? Lestat always seemed to know everything, even the thoughts you dared not voice. His lips curled into a faint smile, equal parts amused and indulgent, as he watched you pace back and forth like a caged animal. “It’s not fair,” you muttered under your breath, glancing at him. “You sit there looking like some fallen angel, and I’m supposed to, what? Summon the divine with paint and canvas? It’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible, mon cher,” Lestat replied, his voice a lilting melody that sent shivers down your spine. “You just lack the proper inspiration.”

Your brush hovered in midair, a sigh escaping your lips. “Oh, I have inspiration,” you said, letting your gaze linger on him. “What I lack is…God, I don’t know. Skill? Luck? Whatever it is that would make this look even half as good as the real thing.”

Lestat’s laughter filled the room, rich and warm, and for a moment, it dulled the edges of your frustration. “You flatter me,” he said, standing with the grace of a predator and crossing the room to stand behind you. He peered over your shoulder at the painting, his proximity making your pulse quicken. “But you’re wrong, you know. You underestimate yourself.”

You glanced at him, your brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? Look at it. It’s lifeless.”

Lestat tilted his head, studying the work with a critical eye. “It’s not lifeless. It’s longing. There’s a difference.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you masked it with a scoff. “Longing? For what?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned to face you fully, his gaze locking onto yours. There was something unreadable in his eyes, a depth that made you feel like you were teetering on the edge of an abyss. “Perhaps that’s a question you should be asking yourself.”

The words lingered between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. He had you ensnared, as he always did, with a power that was as intoxicating as it was terrifying.

The truth was, you had spent months trying to capture him on canvas because it felt safer than admitting the truth to yourself. Lestat was your muse, yes, but he had also become your obsession. You found yourself craving his presence, his voice, his laughter. And yet, there was something about him that felt just out of reach, like chasing a shadow in the dark.

Unbeknownst to you, Lestat found your company equally intoxicating. Your studio had become a sanctuary of sorts, a refuge from the storm that raged within his home. Life with Louis and Claudia had grown tense, every conversation teetering on the brink of an argument. He could feel their resentment festering, their plans forming in the shadows. It was only a matter of time before they turned against him.

And so, he sought solace in you. There was something refreshing about your presence, your unfiltered frustration, your raw vulnerability. You didn’t tiptoe around him like so many others did. You challenged him, fascinated him. For the first time in decades, Lestat felt truly seen.

The thought had crossed his mind more than once—to turn you. It was a selfish desire, he knew, born out of his fear of losing you. But there was also something else, a darker longing that he couldn’t ignore. You appreciated him in a way Louis never could, in a way Claudia never would. You saw him, not as a monster or a god, but as something in between. And that, perhaps, was what drew him to you most of all.

“You’re staring again,” you said, breaking the silence.

Lestat’s lips curved into a smirk. “Can you blame me? You’re quite the sight when you’re brooding.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks flushed under his gaze. “Well, stop. It’s distracting.”

He chuckled, stepping closer until there was barely a breath between you. “Perhaps I like distracting you,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Perhaps I like being the reason you can’t quite capture what you’re feeling.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. Lestat reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, and you felt a jolt of electricity at the contact. “Tell me, mon cher,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours. “If you could capture me perfectly on canvas, if you could finally get it right…what then?”

You didn’t have an answer. Or perhaps you did, but the words felt too heavy to speak aloud. Instead, you let the silence stretch between you, hoping it would be enough. But Lestat, as always, was not one to let things go. His smile turned wistful, almost sad, as he took a step back. “Perhaps it’s better this way,” he said softly. “Some things are meant to remain unfinished.”

He turned and walked back to his place by the window, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding and your mind racing. You didn’t know what to make of his words, or the way they seemed to linger in the air long after he had spoken them.

What you didn’t see was the way Lestat watched you from the corner of his eye, a faint smile playing on his lips. He had made up his mind. You would be his, in time. Whether you knew it or not, your fate was already entwined with his. And soon, the artist who had spent months trying to capture his soul would discover who truly was Lestat de Lioncourt.

[the-white-void]

THOSE LOST IN TIME SEARCHING FOR WHAT CANNOT BE FOUND

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Caged little bird - You, who once held so much power, abandoned it all for freedom from the one who loved you most, yet, they still crawl from the death of your mind to drag you back.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Escape of the Burdened Oni - one unworthy of such treatment, you grant them the presence of your benevolence (date).

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Mine Mother - One favoured by the world's sentience

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Divine Mischief - Oh, mischievous god toys around with their little followers.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Little Bird, why do you Sing such a sad Tune - those of the dive favour their pet, until it runs away and meets its one look-alike from another world.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Bloody Mary - Blood of gold stained the soil of the world that was supposed to revere your name, yet, you treated like a vile villain that plagued this world. And when the world knew the truth, only carnage filled your eyes.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ "O Divine Creator, we humbly bow to you whilst you're on your throne-" I'M ON MY TOILETTE!!! - As you innocently play Genshin on your phone, the seven Archons that are known in the game claim you as their creator. All while you were releasing the remains of the sustenance you had from the past two days.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ You are my only Haven -  A little girl watches over a human that she has waited so long to meet “Will you please wake up? I’m really lonely” she whispers hoping to see your eyes and hear your voice.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Teyvat's Diary - Teyvat, a small oblivious creature, only sees the world formed on her by humans through eyes that do not belong to her. All her thoughts were written in her diary.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Teyvat's opinion about the children - what the sentience of teyvat thinks about the children.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Unbounded by the trivial - You are an imposter but you don’t really care about anything anymore so you just let it be, it’s not like if you try hard enough you could change it.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ "Who are you? Wait, there's TWO?!" - simple texts between what was supposed to be nothing but an AI, yet, how did casual texting two Tsaritsa's end up with both coming to your world.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Moving On - You're moving away. We want you back.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ My Momma - little scenarios with a child’s mother figure

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Otherworldly Things *Part 2- The archons come to your world but cannot return to theirs, so they start getting to know yours.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ La Seine (Monster in Paris AU) - Running away from the captors along with a friend, you find yourselves in a bar where you end up dancing together to hide from the guards.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Let the Play Begin - The Imposter is caught. How shall the play end?

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Life, Death, Rebirth - “Thee hadst been thrown into teyvat wh’re i did rule. Thou art mine own heir, mine own physical f'rm, yet those daws besmirch t by leaving thee with scars and wounds. And i shall nay longeth'r standeth aside while those imbeciles taketh our headeth”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ "The Story" 1 2 3 4 5 - This story is a Samsara, one you cannot control. *WARNING* this work may contain topics or language that may make some audiences uncomfortable.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Scriptor De Re - The Traveler is known for their grand accomplishment throughout Teyvat, but who pulls the strings behind the scenes.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ I Miss Home – You miss someone special to you, someone very special to you. Voided of memories of them to fill the emptiness you feel, only a bare hole of the love you have for them. Yet sharing such things to a child that knows all too well feels warming.

Special

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖₊˚⊹ Interactive Player AU - A story you build. You decide each choice [name] makes. And each choice could change how the story progresses and ends.

✧˖°. How it works - You send an ask of who your character is and where they start. The story begins until you need to make the choice again, there, the fic will stop until you decide what happens next. Long story short, a role-playing game.

Works

Dès le Début: Noraa 1 by: @udretlnea

[riptide-pools]

LMK OCs

Lady Crimson | Fire & Brimstone AU

Character: Lady Crimson is the twin sister of Red Son. Her powers are wind element similar to Princess Iron Fan but got sealed by Lady Bone Demon from her brooch, the 'Ankh Shield'. She obtained the brooch due to Samadhi Fire Incident but she doesn't remember any memory of it.

Lord Crimson | Flames & Ashes AU

Character: Lord Crimson, similar to his female counterpart, had encountered the Samadhi Fire Incident but remembered every bits of the memory. But for him, he succumbed to the fire and brought back by LBD.

Zǐ Dīngxiāng / Rai | Celestial Gatekeeper AU

Character: Rai is the Celestial Realm's guard. To prevent any intruders from entering the Heavens. They're a Lotus Dragon, born from a dew drop from the hands of a divine being and his lotus bud bloomed into his being. He's also a student of Ne Zha.

Lang Zhu / Wolf Spider | Toxic Spindle Webs AU

Character: Zyan [human name] is an arachnid obsessed scientist. After Wolf Spider turned into one of Spider Queen's goons, he lost his humanity. He had doubts towards Mayor and his Mistress. And as he knew his hunch had been correct, he sacrificed himself to save Spider Queen from LBD, yet he failed and he perished alongside his Spider brothers.

Haiyang | Gilded Cage AU

Character: Haiyang is Mei's older sister. As the heir to the Dragon Clan, it is assumed that the Dragon Blade will be given upon her. Yet when Mei took the blade and defended the home from the Bull Clone, she had forced to accept that the destiny of the Dragon Blade won't be in her hands. Hence her not so close relationship with Mei.