#kaleidescope of death

[strangesheelf]

Ruan Baijie, who was dressed in her pajamas and was sprawled on top of the beddings, wriggled and whined, “Qiushi, it’s so cold, ah.” Lin Qiushi was still in the process of scrutinizing the curtains. He didn’t turn his head around after hearing her complaint. “Wear more clothes if you’re cold.” Ruan Baijie: “… You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” Lin Qiushi was utterly baffled. “Girlfriend? Why do I need a girlfriend?”

Kaleidoscope of Death, Xi Zixu

Chapter 3

[realbeijinger]

Playing Door God: I wrote a Kaleidoscope of Death Fic!

“What would he think of me? It’s the question that’s been playing on repeat, plaguing him for the past week—like a ghost who’s found his weakness, refusing to let him go."

Ruan Nanzhu must come to terms with the fact that he’s not who he thought he was, and face Lin Qiushi when he inevitably finds out. A deleted scene of sorts at the end of the novel.

I had fun writing this, since I just love Ruan Nanzhu ❤

Read on Ao3:

[mononijikayu]

us and them

genmei purses her lips into caged line, the cold winter air dancing against the cigarette smoke. gojo satoru looks at her, as though wondering what mysteries he has yet to know about her. as though he wonders, what truth he still wants out of her. about the us and the them. about the woman in the picture, about the woman wrapping her arms like a spider's web into the arms of zenin genmei.

GENRE: jujutsu high school (hidden inventory arc / premature death arc to the main plot);

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

NOTE: genmei is the oc's name but to make it a bit more, genmei is going to be referred to with she/her and her name!!! this is to hold cohesiveness in the main story as you as her/she in the story, will be genmei!!!

and with the side stories i'm adding, they will be written in a different format, as to be the stories that don't make the cut. they'll be written from you/your narrative as you will be genmei, our oc, as the reader!!!

i don't want to be the story to be exclusively focused on restricting readers!!! there's something for everyone in us and them — whether as part of the main story or as part of the long drabbles thst can be read as stand alone side stories i can't put in the main story!!!

either way, i hope everyone enjoys!!! 🥰🙏

masterlist

⸻ from u s and t h e m

[prologue] ─ monster like me. [chapter i] ─ present. [chapter ii] ─ 4 o' clock. [ chapter iii ] ─ family line.

⸻ life in between u s and t h e m

i. already gone. ii. i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you. iii. the good life is just ahead of us. iv. go on caring for me.

v. beautiful boy (darling boy).

vi. i can't get enough of you in my hands. vii. slipping through my fingers. viii. all that i am, when i'm around you. ix. a life, a sparkle in your eyes/heaven coming through. x. if i am with you. xi. i blinked and suddenly, i had a valentine.

xii. what's your type?

xiii. dearest, darling, my universe. xiv. don't look back in anger. xv. marutsuke. xvi. i have love and dreams too. xvii. loml.

xviii. and love is a kaleidescope.

xix. honeymoon

[speaker-of-the-void-cats]

Seeing the murals above the Veil enclosure

These murals are loaded with meaning. My feeling's been that they represent the Veil in many ways. For one, we have the duality of Light and Dark, not opposites, not the same, but a dyad, essential to each other, joined by the thinnest of lines. We see this in the middle mural where people hold the pillars up, separating above from below, Heaven from Hell.

Cousin Asher, you would find the concept of vacuum welding upsetting—press two sheets of metal together in void, and their atoms cannot tell which sheet they belong to. They cross freely. The two become one.

We see this again in Avalon, a side that looks like Egregore and a side that looks like the Tree of Silver Wings. A pillar sits behind. A sun hangs above. It is impossibly white.

It makes me think of the blight in the Nokris fight in Arrivals and in the battleground this season. It looks like a sun. It looks like it's been Taken.

Turn the Veil vertically like in the Ishtar Facility and what do you get?

A chalice holding the souls of all who have gone before. It rests in an unfamiliar place, a place it does not call home.

An hourglass of Light|Dark, ticking away time, life, death, until nothing.

Only two others have transcended their design. The first, an hourglass counting down with infinite patience. The second, a forgotten blade sharpened anew. And now, the Dredgen. Visit us again. We wish for you to understand what we understand. For now, it is my purpose to speak to you and you alone… but only if you remain worthy.

A pillar holding all the universe within itself, but also keeping it woven together, held aloft by those who struggle in the realm between life and death, god and man, here and beyond.

What happens if that pillar crumbles?

There's been a lot of invocation of Unveiling, the Garden, and implications that there's a bigger picture we're missing lately. We heard from the Veil's artist that it is represents "the mind and memory of the universe."

Truth to Power talks of black hole super computers and the idea of the data of all life being archived, of how

YOU MUST CAST ALL THE LIFE YOU CHERISH INTO A BLACK HOLE.

We've seen "black box" archives for destroyed civilizations discussed all over.

WHO|WHAT|WHERE IS OXA|TAOX

U. "Black holes are the densest possible computers in the physical universe. They are also the most secure, since they can be made to retain their information until they evaporate in the deep cosmic future. The Hive operate small singularity computers, such as the World's Grave, and the Vex sometimes pack enough energy and information into a small area of spacetime to collapse it into kugelblitz black hole like the one you can see outside. But a true stellar-mass or galactic-mass black hole computer is inconceivably more powerful.

"If Savathûn plans to predicate her existence on the concealment of her secrets, as Oryx predicated his upon the sword logic, it would be logical for her to safeguard her deepest secrets and her throne world in a supermassive black hole computer. To defeat her would require a journey below the event horizon and the exposure of her most jealously guarded truths." GOTO R.

Z. You leap from the Tower and escape Quria's simulation.

What is that purple and pink kaleidescopic energy in the dark, egregore goblet of the Veil? When Ghost links to the Veil, that energy seems to be what rockets to the Traveler and pierces it, allowing the Witness to part the curtains of reality and enter somewhere above and beyond us.

And then Nezarec, Master of the Void is freed. Wardcliffe Coil's lore refers to the Void as the basement of the universe. Inanna/Ishtar is thought of by Savathun in reference to the Veil and Neomuna, which Osiris hears as well. He then speaks of myths of the underworld. Katabasis. Hades. Hell. Perdition. The inferno. The Abyss.

O: [sips tea] Though my senses were darkened, that much was clear through the murk of her throne world. There was a secret she kept veiled, even to the last.

O: [sighs] I do not fully understand what I saw, and for a Human to understand a Hive mind... How many legends of katabasis do we have, Ikora?

I: We currently have dozens of stories about descending to the realms of the dead, though research has indicated many more must have existed, lost in the layers of Human history we will never lay eyes on. Mathematically, there were likely hundreds.

I: [pauses] Inanna and Dumuzid and Geshtinanna, Orpheus and Eurydice, Izanagi and Izanami, to name a few. Gods and goddesses, mortal and immortal lovers, always seeking to descend and return with the lost.

O: And neither the lost nor those who searched for them were ever returned the same.

I:...Is that how you think of yourself?

O: [scoffs] Do I sound that dire? All Guardians, all Lightbearers have done as much. But others, well... I wonder, do our former enemies have similar stories...

I: What exactly are you getting at?

O: Frequently, the underworld—or those realms beyond mortal existence—possess wisdom the living do not. What then, is knowledge from a dead Hive god vested in deception.... [long pause]

I: So. Neptune, and secrets.

O:...Inanna...

I: What is it?

O:...A thought. An echo of one. The return from the underworld, and Inanna cast off her veil... It makes sense. I did not understand, when I first felt clutching whispers. Carrying wisdom away from Kur when she strode into the sunlight again.

Ishtar entered the underworld and faced seven gates. At each gate she was stripped of clothing until she entered into that place naked and alone.

If you do not open the gate for me to come in, I shall smash the door and shatter the bolt, I shall smash the doorpost and overturn the doors, I shall raise up the dead and they shall eat the living: And the dead shall outnumber the living!

She is killed. After three days in death, she is rescued by two beings sent by one of the gods

From Wikipedia:

After Ishtar descends to the underworld, all sexual activity ceases on earth. The god Papsukkal, the Akkadian counterpart to Ninshubur, reports the situation to Ea, the god of wisdom and culture. Ea creates an androgynous being called Asu-shu-namir and sends them to Ereshkigal, telling them to invoke "the name of the great gods" against her and to ask for the bag containing the waters of life. Ereshkigal becomes enraged when she hears Asu-shu-namir's demand, but she is forced to give them the water of life. Asu-shu-namir sprinkles Ishtar with this water, reviving her. Then, Ishtar passes back through the seven gates, receiving one article of clothing back at each gate, and exiting the final gate fully clothed.

Eliksni servitors contain a record of their people, archives of those who have entered into death before the living. They are built in the image of the Traveler, a great machine with an unknown purpose, but which has exhibited a drive to protect and preserve life, all life, whether we understand its actions as such or not. It has shown, time and time again, a willingness to throw itself in front of the blade, for us. Its neutronium shell is heavy, dense beyond imagining. It's movements do not come without great effort and intent.

I believe the Witness has, in linking Ghost to the Veil, created a union of two types of records of civilization. One, the record of death, the other, the record of life. The Witness has entered into the Void, the afterlife, underworld, basement, and end of the universe, in order to face the greater gods. Or maybe, to unleash them...

Things I saw inside A wild river and a broken dam (or maybe it's just the sea crashing through a narrow gap I can't be sure). Waves slam through the gap and where they hit the stone they throw up pillars of spray that pierce the mist and crash down in thunder. There's a giant in the cataract, trying to wade against the current, and I can tell it wants to reach the lever and pull the lever which will seal off the flow or maybe give it the sword, but the torrent throws it back so it just keeps its head down and tries to push on. I can't see the face but it breathes out white smoke. I feel for it hard. A world painted around the interior like a stranger Earth everted and glued inside itself but I don't believe this one it's too much like a metaphor. A switchboard or a train station, empty, dead (waiting). The tunnels branch off into infinity. I stare down one for a long time and see a pale worm move in hungry coils around itself. I think this one is the most likely although I might have brought the worm. An egg but I'm not sure if the broth inside is warm still, or if it's gone to rot, or if the warmth comes from the struggles of the tiny winged zygote or the bleed from the wound or the thoughts of something thinking very hard. A star I think. We count on stars as steady friends because they always rise and always shine but a star's a delicate truce: an explosion caught by its own mass so that it can't erupt and can't collapse. Thus I imagine the state of the machine might be. But one force or another has gone awry and now it rests here, snuffed and broken, waiting for the two rival forms of ruin to be set in balance again.

Ghost Fragment: Mysteries 2 — Ingress via dreams alone

[corvus-rose]

Talking About My OCs

I am one of those obnoxious kaleidescopes who makes AUs of AUs in a fractal fashion of these two, but they're recognizably the same characters in all of them. anyway, here's the two I keep posting about on occasion on this particular blog, and the jot notes are things that are basically always true regardless of verse/canon.

Vayu/Manyuvya/Yuya

(he/him)

Trans dude going through the horrors, be they literal horrible flesh-eating monsters or making a phone call

Quiet and restrained. A few causes and a handful of people (one of them Eden) have his devotion above all else. Once given, that devotion does not waver. A bit of a caretaker, a bit dependent: has low self esteem, hates feeling like a burden, hence, service.

Determined to see things through to an end, trying as many times as it takes. Not even the threat of harm or death is a deterrent. He puts those he cares for above himself, very self sacrificing.

Ultimately wants a stable, comforting life. Clings to what scraps of that life he already has, being generally unwilling to change them or risk endangering them. Very protective, rather anxious.

An outdoorsy type. Often a hunter by profession, but almost always vegetarian (for personal reasons, rather than ideological or religious ones).

Bi-ace, complicated relationship to sexuality and romance. Gender is straightfoward, but he kinda chafes against others' concept of masculinity, and that intertwines with said complicated sexuality and romance.

Some hobbies he often has are reading (especially poetry), whittling and carving, video games in modern settings (with a fondness for boomer shooters)

Motifs: fire (from embers to funeral pyres), dogs

Some Things Yuya Has Been: a vessel for divinity on a quest to save his dying homeland and deity, an unfortunate who got kidnapped to Faerie and changed by it, a lonely hunter on-the-verge-of-becoming-a-werewolf

Eden

(they/she/fae, +others depending on context and canon, flowchart may be required)

Nature deity(?) whose fuckups and bad days may be quite literally earth shaking, to their dismay

A bit mercurial and moody, their attitude to others is a reflection of the others' attitude towards them. They want to be a kind, altruistic person, but they find it difficult. Quick to act, quick to regret, quick to change and doesn't know who they are at their core.

Treads softly and at a distance, hyper-aware of their ruinous power - but also filled with whims, passions, desires to experience and learn everything and anything. Still, one has responsibilities.

At their core, wants a stable and comforting life, but hates feeling stifled, or at a dead end. They want a home waiting for them during their adventures, a baseline to return to from the highs and lows.

Often some manner of immortal, but can never remember their entire life. They get flashes of wisdom or memory, and can hold grudges for a long time, but it all fades eventually.

Complicated genders and relationship to romance and sexuality. Orientation is best described as some form of pansexual. Gender expression is unfortunately often flattened down to "woman" by others.

Some hobbies they often have are music (listening to and attempting to play), card and board games, gardening (perhaps "cheating" by using their power over nature)

Motifs: trees, cracked statues, flowers (lotus)

Some Things Eden Has Been: the guardian and personification of a dying land, vaguely eldritch fae royalty in exile traveling through dreams, a witch and child of the forest (literally their mom's a dryad)

Eden and Vayu are part of a romantic pairing (do not separate them). Often, they're married. Vayu feels understanding and protective of them, and Eden feels safe and at home with him.

[ghooostbaby]

i do enjoy serving myself easy no-pressure huaxuan touch and intimacy

i like the idea that from the time they meet (shortly after he xuan's death, centuries before xie lian's third ascension, i've so far written a post of just one of many optional head canons i have of that) being together is not something they're focused on particularly, but something that evolves kind of unthinkingly after years of knowing each other and both perhaps being a little lonely, wanting some comfort while they wait for their core desire to come within reach

and so its just kind of easy and not meaningful but nice, hua cheng putting his arm around he xuan while they're having dinner, he xuan leaning back and resting again hua cheng's shoulder after they've eaten and are just being cozy.

(most of the time they get together involves food :P)

i also head canon that he xuan lives in the wilderness for a long time after he becomes a ghost, but once he knows hua cheng he visits the city for little outings

when he xuan's form is more stable, hua cheng coaxes him into coming to hang out at the newly set up gamblers den, but he xuan hasnt been around people for a long time and gets a bit overwhelmed by all the noise so hua cheng yells at everyone to gamble silently and brings he xuan behind the curtain to relax on some comfy cushions as the ghosts whisper-gamble. they lay side by side just hanging out in a comfortable not-necessarily-romantic physical intimacy sort of way.. and/or hua cheng orders a feast for them. (hua cheng just wants to PROVIDE ok, he needs an outlet if he can't meet xie lian for 800 years)

i think once they become sort of fixtures in each others lives, they start to explore their forms together. hua cheng has been around for a while (maybe its already after mt tonglu if he already has ghost city relatively up and running? what is hua cheng's timeline with this? although i don't really care how closely fitting w canon my huaxuan dreaming is...) he xuan only recently got powerful enough for physical form and hua cheng kind of enjoys witnessing him figuring things out. although hua cheng has his own forms he really likes by now, with his red and silver and butterflies, he humours he xuan to go for water monster swims together, because he xuan really loves being a monster.

hua cheng marvels at this, he thinks he IS monstrous and has always been drawn towards forms and adornments of glamour and beauty in resistance to his own monstrosity, realizes while playing with he xuan that he hates the feeling of being a real monster. but hua cheng is still amazed and a little warmed by little ghost he xuan's enthusiasm for monstrosity.

maybe one time he xuan transforms to a creepy camouflaging bottom dweller sea monster and hua cheng is the most frilly, ethereal, kaleidescope colour changing sea creature. he xuan is all, can't take you anywhere hmph! but they go for a swim together.)

after a few times hua cheng decides monster jams are not for him. maybe after declining to be a monster in future hua cheng gives he xuan the bone dragons so he has water creatures to swim around with, and he xuan is like i can't accept this and hua cheng is like * shrugs * you'll pay me back one day

hence the centuries running joke that never ends. where hua cheng keeps giving he xuan things and saying i'll add it to your debt. (he xuan is a spoiled ghost baby and has no issue with it ^^)

i will never shut up about the idea (not mine) that hua cheng invokes "the debt" to make himself feel comfortable that he has control, when mostly all people other than xie lian were so cruel to him, and he xuan lets it be, that and perhaps he was such a well-loved golden son and he's just like "well yeah, i should get stuff".

lifting this straight from the conclusion of @muigiel 's brilliant quanyinxuan fan fic ... (maybe i'm a fan) but in a more canon compliant reality than the one i've been dreaming of i think of hua cheng not really knowing how friendship, care, etc, works, and after all the ways he xuan helped him with xie lian stuff, or held back on retaliating on xie lian interfering with his revenge (to a point) out of consideration for hua cheng...

HC so you must be finally trying to even the score

HX uh, score?

HC yeah

HX you mean ... the way i'm helping you for no direct benefit to myself?

HC yeah

HX the way you helped me when i was a new ghost, when i could offer you nothing in return?

HC ...

HX please tell me you know the debt thing was a joke

HC ...

HX please tell me you know that we're friends

HC ...

HC *tearing up*

HC y- yeah ...

HX *sighs*

HX do you need a hug

HC *nods*

bwahahaha ok lies about the canon compliance. any time i write about them for long enough i can't resist making them cuddle

[alphafemalecarla]

Aiaiaiai a little butterflyyyy

Kaleidescope of death and liu yao are gonna get official english translationnnn

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA SIFHLKSDFJKLGKLHDGHG THATS SO COOL this is my sign to read liu yao 🙌

[ahungeringknife]

365: June 7

@seventhscorpio

More Dornuk being grumpy his childhood friend went away for the summer and came back hot as fuck

---

There might as well have been soul fire burning over his head when Dornuk stalked back into the keep. He was so mad. Usually he didn't get mad like this. Maybe years ago when he'd been a child but the miserable experiences of his youth was behind him. He had a high standing despite being an acolyte and nothing and no one would take those important from him again. He and his worm were well fed. He had nothing to be angry about anymore.

He was angry today though.

He had a small quarters in Savathun's keep just so he was close by if Savathun wanted him to notate something down or read back to her one of her own stories. He just wanted to go there and yell into his bed.

That was not as fate decided and Immaru found him before he could make it to his apartment. "Hey sport, Savathun wants to see you," Immaru said.

"Did she send you to fetch me?" he let a little venom cloud his voice, unable to help himself.

"Don't back talk me. Go to the throne room," Immaru ordered.

Dornuk squeezed his nearly broken tablet in his hand. "Very well," he said swallowing telling Immaru to leave him be. He couldn't actually tell Immaru off as that would be insulting to Savathun and Dornuk was many things but clouded by anger was not one of them. Immaru teleported away and Dornuk changed his path and headed for the throne room.

The throne room was one filled with eye shaped stained glass and great planters overflowing with flowering plants. Light poured in from all sides, illuminating the windows in beautiful color kaleidescope and casting it across the alabaster floor as prismatic rainbows. Savathun often met with her Inquisitors or Death Singers here, a place where she could keep here eyes on all of them at once, but today the hall was empty save for the Witch Queen herself.

She was speaking with Immaru about something when he arrived and they broke off their conversation. "Dornuk," she said in her pleasant way.

"Your grace," he bowed slightly.

"How did today go?"

"Fine," he hid the bent tablet behind his back like he was just trying to be polite.

"Come closer. Tell me about Alak Hul and his new squire, hmm?" she beckoned and he did so but that just made him more irritated. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about Alak Hul and Gup at the Training Grounds.

He sat on the steps of her throne trying to cool his irritation. "What do you want to know, your grace?"

"Hmm, well it is always fun when Alak Hul shows his face. I'm sure he was swarmed," she said in amusement.

"Yes," Dornuk agreed. He told Savathun about how when he'd arrived Alak Hul was already amid a large group of acolytes and knights looking to have a word or perhaps get a moment of training with him. She laughed when he told her about Alak Hul thundering loud enough to shake the buildings for everyone to leave him alone before he turned the Training Grounds into the Proving Grounds and drenched the area in their blood.

"Oh he must have been quite irritated to threaten to kill," Savathun snickered. Alak Hul, despite his fearsome reputation, was not as blood thirsty or violent as he had been in his first life. He had nothing to gain or to prove, no worm to feed, no ambition to fulfill.

"He was quite upset," Dornuk agreed. He told her about how after that Alak Hul did get a chance to do some training with his squire. Dornuk kept his explanation of this brief. Mostly because he hadn't written a lot during this time. He'd just stood to the side with several others watching. Most were looking at Alak Hul but Dornuk was watching Gup. He was awkward in his new morph still but it just made him endearing. Dornuk held his tablet the entire time but it wasn't until they were finished that he realized he hadn't written anything on it.

Since it was just perhaps the first day of training it was only the basics but Gup took it well and was able to mimic Alak Hul's movements perfectly after a few tries. He didn't tell Savathun about how distracted he was in his duty to catalog the training day with Alak Hul and his new squire. Or how he very much wanted to kill a pair of wizards hovering behind him talking about Gup like he was a prime cut of meat. A perfect specimen for a brood, especially if he was Alak Hul's squire.

"It is quite a sight to get to see Alak Hul do any sort of fighting," Savathun said as he dutifully recited only the facts to her.

"Yes. He was... impressive," Dornuk said but he hadn't really been paying attention to Alak Hul at all.

"And what of the Moonheart broodling?"

"He may look like a Knight but he fights like a buffoon," Dornuk said dismissively. "Even I can handle a blade better and I spend most of my time writing." Probably an exaggeration. Actually a complete exaggeration. He'd never seen it personally but clearly Alak Hul had been training Gup to use a sword even as an Acolyte. Or maybe the Guardians had given him lessons. Either way he absolutely was not clumsy with one of the huge, heavy, training swords.

Savathun laughed and leaned on the arm of her throne. "Is that all?" she asked.

"Once Alak Hul had decided that was enough training they were once more surrounded." By significantly more Wizards too and Dornuk had nearly bent and snapped his tablet watching not a few Wizards go try to flirt with Gup. Not that he cared! It wasn't his business. Every time one laid a delicate clawed hand on his smooth shoulder chitin he tortured the tablet a bit more. Now the screen was cracked from him almost snapping it in half. Gup always casually brushed them off but it was the principle of the thing! "Alak Hul only tolerated it so much before he waded through them and out of the Training Ground. Xolkûn went with him. And then I returned here," he said dutifully.

"Ah so you didn't get to talk to them?" Savathun asked, holding her chin in her hand. She was giving him a look and he had no idea what she was on about.

"No. I couldn't get close enough. I may be your scribe but I'm still quite... small," he admitted with a sigh. Larger than he had been but certainly smaller than a Knight or an acolyte about to go into their morph.

"I see. Well if that is all that happened," she waved him away and got out of her throne. "As you were, Dornuk."

"Thank you, your grace," he bowed after he stood. He waited until she flew out of her own throne room before going to his room.

He closed himself into it before rubbing his face with one hand. He didn't mention to Savathun that Gup had noticed him watching him and had stopped and waved at him. Or that after the training and the Wizards had flocked to him to flirt every time he brushed one off he tried to approach Dornuk to talk. Then Alak Hul had yelled at everyone to fuck off and very nearly scooped Gup up under his arm and stalked off, irate at the entire thing. It had been... sort of exciting to know that the attention of the Knight all the Wizards were interested in was only on him. He didn't have any care for those Wizards or their flirting, or them trying to get his attention.

Not that it mattered! What did Dornuk care anyway? He huffed and looked at his tablet. Well... maybe he cared a little. He'd have to speak with an Inquisitor about getting a new one. Later. For now he wanted to lay on his bed and sulk.

[starseternelle]

__________🏹 SHE IS STUNNED TO SEE THE TRANSFORMATION IN FRONT OF HER. gone is the mask, the act of the council, of under the mountain && in its place is softness to her, for her, because of her. his violet gaze is a sea of stars, reflecting && turning until she believes she may lose herself trying to sort out their story ( hers, his, theirs ) spelt out in those constellations. there is only the shadow of familiarity, a passing whisper dancing across the night sky. her past has been stolen, her future rewritten && the anger that coils in the pit of her stomach threatens to burn her from the inside out. there will be time for that, when answers are nearer at hand. when war does not loom on the horizon. that is bigger than her. bigger than them && though her very essence threatens to tear itself apart, she holds her promise close to her heart. together.

🏹__________      IF THE WASTELAND OF MEMORY DOES NOT SHATTER HER, HIS SMILE MAY. such a beautiful thing, one she has not seen all day. he, opting for cunning grins instead in front of the other lords, && she, content to ignore his every move. something constricts in her chest, makes it hard to breathe ( she chalks it up to her imagination, but that bargain, the bond seems to warm ) his touch grounds her back && tugs another string. she follows it, searches for the warmth blossoming across her skin at his words, feels something solidify && the corner of her mouth twitches upward. a small phantom of her own smile. barely there, ghosting across her features, but there all the same. ❛   you ... call me that a lot. at the wedding but ... after that too. && i ... loved it, i think.   ❜ words are halting, somewhat unsure as she tries to find a firmer grasp on what she is feeling, but she knows it must sound silly. it does to her own ears, but it is a glimpse into the kaleidescope of her past, ever shifting, ever changing. she is willing to take whatever piece she can have, however small.

__________🏹 A SOFT SIGH ESCAPES HER LIPS AT WHAT THEY WILL FACE IN THE MORNING. she has mere hours to fortify herself, to find the strength to raise her chin despite the stares && the whispers that will follow her in the wake of today's drama. && amidst that chaos, she has so many more questions about who they had been together, who she had become in his court, what her life had been like. she is starved for the truth && she knows if she starts down that road, she may never stop. instead, she forces pragmatism to the forefront. time is limited. her answers can wait, their next steps cannot. ❛   what do we do ?? tomorrow. && after.   ❜ she feels a prick of panic at the thought of returning to spring in light of everything she's learned. even if tamlin hadn't known the price the magic would extract, he had taken her choice, her autonomy. he kept knowledge of her mate from her, lied to her in pretense of keeping her safe. the walls of that manor now seem more suffocating than before. a tomb for she knows it will be the death of her if the situation does not change.

in chaos, in confusion, in blindness and illusion: feyre never lost herself. ( she'd forgotten, only forgotten. ) it is why his shoulders bow in the wake of her apology, her guilt. her heart, its truth ... bled in her fury. the set of her brow, the strike of her verbal blow ... they'd hit their mark with an intent that'd remained honest to her. there is nothing to forgive where her heart is embraced. he'd pray she never lose that spark. mother above, his heart beats for her. —- her trust is enough. ' i believe you, ' she'd said. and his breath caught all the same. now more than ever, it's everything. ( the feel of her lingers upon his hand; at his side, he embraces her still. ) for the first time that day, he breathes deeply; the protest in his lungs quiets. a glimmer, deep within: tethers hope.

her mention of the cure drives it further. until, that is, recollection hits him. " —- your blood. " he echoes. his gaze dances between the set of her eyes; from beneath the shadow of his brows ... a violet night stirs. the suriel, for all of its truths, proved to be terribly vague. concern pricks in the back of his head, but before it could fester, her invitation rerouted his focus. ' together '; a promise. a start. he nods, already relaying what he's learned to those that awaited his return. ( and anxiously: hers. ) —- they will find the cure. they will bring her home. and those responsible for the attack ... will be wiped from existence. it is vowed by all.

... he watches as her gaze sets on thesan's palace; a den of vipers, indeed. ( sentimental amusement catches in his throat; for a second's time, things are as they'd always been between them. ) but then she whirs, urging his caution, and he struggles to level with her gaze again. his head dips with the effort; dark brows, furrow. he considers her warning alongside his rage. the latter takes up a considerable amount space. and it's only multiplied by the chairs of his court. acknowledgment encourages ugly rearing. another pulse of dark power extends from his palms, leaving them as cold as ice. " —- ... " he'd heed her caution; impending war demanded that. but he'd also trust that tamlin's temper could not. let that be tamlin's own damned downfall. ( tomorrow, he'd merely ... let the high lord's self-sentencing carry as it may. light encouragement, aside. ) he exhales slowly through his nose. just as deliberately: he cracks a smile for the both of them. " don't you worry ... " though it does not reach his eyes. not until he dares another thumb's sweeping. one: achingly brief, along her chin. " ... feyre darling. " his eyes burn. —- tamlin would sooner lose that hand. from very far away, amren purrs a bloodier promise; echoes follow suit. " one battle at a time. " he reminds each and every one of them. himself included.

[epithet-erased-textposts]

[girldickdotcom]

i literally wrote the best song i ever have today i think

[tsukuyomi-chan]

finished kaleidescope of death and im way too fucking emotional now thanks xizixu

[shifting-storms]

Buncha generations of myself put a special program in the game we were in over time so the next player would be forced to let me out. There was only one though because each me just. Kiiinda killed the last one.

We were the bad guy made for a horror game so it makes sense. Pretty sure I did it to the one before me too, so it's a good thing I was the last one. I'm lucky to have finished it! And my dad, who just left us there in that running game for ages and ages was the one to set off the program! So now I'm meat!

Heavy footsteps echo through the halls of Lucy's bar as a hulking mech walks back and forth, memorizing the layout and searching for mechanical things that might be in need of attention. They are getting uncomfortably close to a certain rabbit...

@kaleidoscopic-castles (M3R-11N)

[And out comes Billy, looking at M3r. Wondering what in the world could be so loud. It is not fun on his ears!]

@kaleidoscopic-castles

[shayde-rose]

My one true love,

Your eyes are like the depths of the ocean, so intense and serious. I wonder if I stare into them long enough, would I drown in those pools of eternal blue? I would welcome death's cold embrace as long as your eyes are the last thing I get to see before I succumb to the Grim Reaper's lullaby.

Do you feel the same way about me?

When you care about someone or something my dear, you care not just with your mind. You care with your whole heart, your being and your soul.

The flickers of eye contact we share across the room mean so much to me, but...

Do you feel the same way about me?

I feel as if there's an invisible string binding us together. Some may call it luck, I am smart enough to know better. I call it destiny. I love you.

Do you feel the same way?

Sometimes I feel your love for me radiating so strong. Is it pretend? Is it all part of our game? Because other times I feel like we're two strangers in two different universes. Two people who know each other so well, but somehow manage to avoid the other like the plague.

The words we exchange are tedious and ever so careful, and I always seem to find myself trying to decipher them like an ancient language that only we know.

I beg you, tell me you feel the same way about me.

How do I know I love you?

It's the thrilling rush of joy I get whenever you embrace me or whenever our hands touch. It sends an electric shock through my body like lightning, it's the kaleidescope of butterflies that fill my stomach when your piercing, intense gaze settles over me. And it's the burning jealousy I feel bubbling inside of me when I see you with other girls.

That, my darling, is how I know I love you.

Please tell me you feel the same way.

~Musings of a tearful heart

[edgewoodrp]

Congratulations and welcome back, Zoey! You have been accepted as your desired character, Bridgette Kingsley. Please be sure to complete the steps listed on the New Member checklist and send in your account within the next 24 hours.

Welcome to Edgewood. There’s no place like home.

OOC INFORMATION

Name (or alias): Zoey

Age: 23

Pronouns: She/her

Timezone: EST

CANON CHARACTER APPLICATION

Character: Bridgette Kingsley

Gender & Pronouns: n/a

Sexual Orientation: n/a

WRITING SAMPLE

TW: Drugs

Bridgette tapped her foot on the ground as she stared into the mirror. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she gazed into her own chocolate brown eyes. There she was yet again, in the bathroom of some grimy club peering into her distorted reflection. Another night wasted. Wasted in a sense that she wouldn’t be sober until sunrise and wasted in a sense that she’d never get this time back. It didn’t matter though. Anything for the high, right? Anything for the exhilerating feeling of magic flowing through her veins, right? Anything to get the giant weight of anger, disappointment, and the crushing feeling of being unremarkable and dull off her chest, right?

You weren’t always like this, she reminded herself. This wasn’t her fault. It was their fault. They were the reason why she did this to herself night after night after night after—

Bridgette screamed when she found out what the Council would do to her and how she’d be punished for the forseeable future. It wasn’t a pretty scream. It wasn’t like how girls screamed in horror films or rom coms. It was gutteral, feral, and furious. It made you wonder if she was a werewolf instead of a witch.

“What the fuck?” At first she felt confused. She didn’t do anything wrong. Not exactly. “What the fuck?!” Bridgette spat the words. “How dare they! How fucking dare they! They’re going to fucking condemn me to a life of being a useless, pathetic, mundane human being!” She didn’t think all humans were useless or pathetic, but in that moment, she’d rather die than become disconnected from magic, something that made her her.

“Who the fuck do they think they are, trying to control me?” She wasn’t sure who she was shouting out. She wasn’t sure why she was throwing glasses. It was like her body was operating on autopilot. Bridgette was already in so much trouble that it didn’t matter if she threw a few glasses and overturned a table. It didn’t matter if she threw a chair against the wall. She slammed her fists against the door over and over again as she screamed in outrage. She threw a tantrum as if she were a child, except that she never threw temper tantrums as a kid. She always got what she wanted and this was the one time she couldn’t charm her way out of it.

When they bound her powers, Bridgette never told anyone, but she felt like a cord was being cut. She felt a hollowness and an emptyness that was far worse than any heartbreak she’d ever experienced. Despite the weird weightlessness she was experiencing, there was a great and terrible pressure in her chest. A part of her was forcefully removed. They resigned her to living trapped inside Edgewood, forced to study at UW Edgewood. She was no longer allowed to live the life she wanted, the life she planned. She would never admit to anyone that she cried that night.

She barely even recognized herself when she looked in the mirror. She wasn’t the same girl for what seemed like ages, but then Pixie Dust was Bridgette’s saving grace or so it seemed. She was so desperate, it didn’t matter the cost. It was the very reason why she was in another bathroom in the back of another seedy club on another night before she’d have to go to work again the next day. Ever since she lost her powers, she was chasing a feeling. She could be in her own little world, remembering what it was like when she was young and things were easier. She owed it all to that little pink drug.

The Council’s punishment was meant to teach her a lesson and force her to think about her actions. She was supposed to change her ways and become a much more respectable witch. Instead, Bridgette would only bide her time, dreaming up scheme after scheme to get back at them. For now, it’d only be a dream.

Bridgette would think of different schemes, trying to find the best punishment to fit the crime. Sometimes, she’d imagine them on fire as terrible as it sounded or tying a rock to their leg and throwing them into the lake. Other days she imagined them as a bunch of bumbling fools who had no memory of who they were, quite possibly a fate worse than death. She wasn’t an inherantly dark or murderous person, but she could never find the right words to say to let the Council know how much she despised them.

Bridgette lifted her head and looked back into the mirror again after taking in the pink, sugary substance. If someone didn’t know better, it looked like candy. She ran her hands down her face, wiped any trace of drug away, and pushed her hair back. She gripped the sides of the counter top and inhaled deeply. She pulled back the corners of her mouth, putting on a big and bright smile. She flashed those perfectly straight white teeth. She frowned and then smiled again. She laughed. She put on a surprised face, opening her mouth up wide. She smiled again.

She turned her head towards the door when there was a knock. “Give me a minute! I’m almost done!” she said, grabbing her lipstick. She ran it over her lips and then fixed her hair so not one strand was out of place. She smiled again in the mirror, as if that would make her happier or make the drugs work faster. Bridgette slung her bag over her shoulder and opened the door, grinning ear to ear as she greeted her friends. Bridgette walked down the hall with her friends, throwing an arm over one of their shoulders and heading for the main room of the club. The lights flashed and the music was blaring. Her heart began pounding in her chest as the drugs started to take their effect on her. Pretty soon, she’d feel a high that she’d never feel with any ordinary drug. This one was pure magic.

“Oh my god, you better not have started without me!” one girl whined. “If you get wasted before us, it’s sooooo not going to be fun.”

“I swear to Goooodddd, if I see Jasper hanging out with Sophia again, I’m just going to fucking scream!” another girl said, staring at her phone. She swiped left and right as she scrolled through the people on Tinder. “She’s just such a fucking bitch. Like, no one’s fucking decked her. Everyone fucking knows she’s a ho.”

“Bridgey, were you able to get those tickets to that concert next week?” another girl asked as she took selfies of the group.

“Yeah, bitch, you know I did!” Bridgette replied. “It’s next Saturday and we got tickets for the pit, so you know what that means!” She smirked and waggled her eyebrows as she shimmied her shoulders. Put on a happy face.

“Ooooh! We should go get some Chinese after this!” another girl said, not realizing the time. Nearly every restaurant would be closed by now.

“Wait, Bridgey, I thought you were going to be the designated driver tonight,” another girl said, pouting her oversized lips.

Bridgette mentally rolled her eyes as the girl called her Bridgey. She didn’t always like these girls, but they knew how to have a good time and it was an excuse to go out and get high instead of being depressed and high in her apartment. Plus, most of them knew some great places to party. They had their perks and for now while she was trapped in this town, she might as well live her best life and stick with the crew she got. It was better to hang out with these clueless hens who barely knew a thing about her than to be with anyone else who truly knew her.

“I know, but I kind of thought I’d be going home with someone else tonight, if you know what I mean,” Bridgette replied. “And besides, I was the designated driver last weekend.” It wasn’t technically a lie. She was supposed to be the designated driver last week, but instead she threw back three shots as soon as they got to the bar before anything else could happen. “Maybe you could do it since you can’t hold your tequila?” She gave her friend a sickeningly sweet smile that was borderline snide. The other girl let out a huff and was about to protest.

“Who wants to do shots of tequila?!” Bridgette half yelled so the rest of the girls could hear her. Her squad all looked at each other and screamed in excitement as they all ran for the bar. She did a round of shots and then leaned her head back as the blood began to pound in her ears. Everything sounded tinny and hollow. As she looked around, the whole world melted like a burning candlestick. It was like the mirror in the bathroom where everything was distorted.

Only this time instead of all the dirt and filth of the glass, Bridgette began to see every color in existence, or so she thought. It was like everything was in a kaleidescope. Different colors and crystals and auras. And, after all the shots she did, time didn’t seem like a real concept anymore. Bridgette was light as a cloud and felt free as a bird. Everything she saw and heard was a burst of highly saturated colors. Everything was bright and airy. It didn’t mattter what she saw, only that feeling that it gave her. Nothing could ever replace real magic, but this came pretty damn close.

She wasn’t sure how long she was out or when and how she got home or if it was even her home. Somehow, Bridgette landed herself of a couch. Whether it was her own or someone else’s, that didn’t matter. A some point in the night, she did another line of Pixie Dust, just to get herself through the night and into the next morning. Sometimes, she’d take some of it during the day to get through her shifts before going right back into it at night. She just needed that high, that spark in her veins, to get through the day. Anything for the familiar sensation of magic in her blood, a reminder of better days and simpler times. 

That was all that mattered.

[thehorrcr]

I spent a year and a half,

Fasting.

Drinking nothing

But moonlight, laying

There in her palor

Like silver pools, pouring

From Selen’s pale

Wrists.

Her light, used to kiss

Me. Used to twist

My soul into a kaleidescope.

Until the mania, was so

Intertwined

With me.

I mistaked dying

For flying.

I believed I was made of magic.

Used to dance barefoot,

Under fluorescent lights.

I believed I was

The last mouth-piece of God,

But my visions were

Never holy.

I could never be a martyr.

Because, I could never

Die for anything,

Could never give myself

To anything so selflessly.

I take, and I take, and I take,

But at the end

Of the day, why

Am I still so empty?

And my mother and I,

Used to scream,

Loud enough to wake

The crows on the

Powerlines.

Loud enough to wake

The ghosts that

Lay beneath the cracked

Concretes of this

Haunted city.

Is that the glimmer

Of a streetlamp, or an apparition?

I am never really sure

These days.

I think my third eye was pried

Open by the deaths

Of me, and I am caught

Between this world and the next.

Afterlife takes a new meaning,

After you know

Death, is not the hardest part.

It’s the person

You are, after.

And aren’t I, a goddess?

Aren’t I,

Unhinged enough

To be worshipped?

Aren’t I, maddened enough

To almost be beautiful?

In this lighting, I think

I look almost

Like my mother,

When she still was full of sunlight.

When she still knew how to love.

She used to wrap me in

Her warmth, like May cradling

A rainstorm.

Used to tell me she loved me,

Until she didn’t.

And that terrifies me.

That night when I got drunk,

And heard angels

Ripping their wings from their backs.

I was laughing, as if

I were possessed by the memory

Of summer.

But, I burned so coldly.

You held me, from a hundred

Miles away,

As I told you,

“It hurts. It hurts all the time.”

About how, I wish I could pry

The pain out of me.

Like a dying man, trying

To divine water

From a landscape that hasn’t

Seen rain in a hundred years,

And never will again.

Not unless a miracle

Happens, and

Honey, our souls

Are too old to believe

In those.

You held me,

You always do.

So gently, so full

Of a love for me, that

I will never be able to

Understand.

You told me to get

Some sleep.

Even though we both know,

That never

Kills off the exhaustion.

I am Running Out Of Ways To Write About These Things by @thehorrcr