#shoving celestial symbolism onto them

[hkpika07]

The Moon, The Sun, and The Stars

[mists-reading-nook]

[Celestial Ball!]

{Platonic}

{Good old Undertale and Deltarune spoilers and caps warning}

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

A young lady, enters the Ball, her skin and hair the same bright shade of red, lacking any eyes whatsoever.

Wispy bangs were framed by the long loose hair from the front half of her head, while the rest was tied up in a mid-ponytail via a brown silk ribbon.

She wore a burgundy cotton dress. Off-shoulder and straight across. The foldover was ruffled chiffon, and bishop sleeves went all the way down to her mid calves. Below the black belt corset tied with another brown silk ribbon was a knee long flared skirt with an iron on butterscotch-cinnamon pie slice patch. One could see her knee high brown leather boots.

The center of her brown silk choker bore an obsidian heart with a white Delta Rune symbol engraved on it. "Center" is a lie actually, the choker and Rune lies at the center of her neck, yes, but the bow formed to tie the ribbon was to the side of the lady's neck.

Her final accessory was a headband of chocolate cosmos flowers, overflowing with the scent of chocolate. Or maybe it was the entire person. Either way, the flowers don't wilt the slightest during the event.

By her side was a cyan skinned knight of short dark blue hair that covered one of their bright red eyes. Above their black shirt and pants was light grey armor: A chest plate, spaulders, boots, and gloves. On the center of their chest plate, another engraving of the Delta Rune.

Around their neck was fabric, tied under one of the spaulders and covering the other. The fabric was either a dull blue which took on a magenta sheen, or a magenta fabric that look like dull blue under darkness, it's hard to tell.

[DELTA the RED SOUL] and her Plus One [Kris the Lightener Knight of Hometown and Castle Town] from the world of DELTARUNE ("I'm also from UNDERTALE!")

°•°⚪°•°

DELTA initially drags Kris around to talk with other guests. During the introductions and conversations, she hypes the two to up high hell "'Tis I! DELTA the Angel of all Delta Runic Lores! And here is my grand champion of the Legend: Kris! The Lightner Knight of Hometown and Castle Town, Human of the Three HEROES!" And that's just the beginning of how much she brags about her and Kris.

Kris let's her do all the talking most of the time, and it's almost anticlimactic what little of an impression they make compared to her.

If you eavesdrop on them, you will hear them squabble about [Nonconsensual Possession] "On both sides! My vessel got trashed by Gaster Bastard and then I got shoved into you without a way out! Remember?", and [SAVE] "Knowing you, you probably forgot to SAVE again" "Low blow! Come on let's go to a SAVE point just to be sure.", and other subjects.

At some point DELTA and Kris will agree to separate, talk to whoever they feel most comfortable with, and stare at people and the areas for extended periods of time? They will occasionally move their position, until their eyes (or location where eyes should be in the case of DELTA) flash white for a brief moment and they leave satisfied.

That my friends is called a [SCREENSHOT] and they're taking as many as they can to share with their friend after this Ball is done with!

Additionally, DELTA has been recording her entire perspective this whole time! Everyone in Castle Town and the Lightner's involved with the Dark World will get to watch the footage as well.

Though DELTA's sleeves seem like they would get in the way, they don't seem to bother her. She makes no effort to roll up her sleeves, nor grab anything she can, be it food, drinks or anything else. It seems she needs no sustenance.

Kris does however, and on top of eating, they're going to sneak in as much food as they can onto their person. Preferably foods that provide the most health or even buffs!

°•°⚪°•°

The two ultimately just want to run around, have fun, record the festivities and screenshot them to share with their friends back at home.

Yeah DELTA is annoying but she isn't here to hurt anyone, she just loves to show off her friends. Oh hey! she has pictures of all her friend from both universes and she's praising them to high hell as well to anyone who'll listen.

"And this is Prince Asriel Dreemurr, The Absolute GOD of Hyperdeath!"

But in a Ball of all sorts of deities, their plus ones, all of whom from a diverse set of universes and with a variety of personalities, some may find their childish antics and behavior irritating or worse.

When civilized conversation or play they're so used to in the Dark World (and Underground in DELTA's case) fails, and battle is the only option, the results are always the same.

It doesn't matter if they're separate or alone. They're either together, DELTA summons Kris to fight in her stead (for she herself doesn't battle), or she'll come to the center of the drama and join Kris before they start the fight.

When the knight engages in battle, the Damsel in Distress will deform in volume. Transformed into a small, bright red heart, she'll attached herself to Kris and take the lead.

In the days of yore, the [Kings] and [Queens] lead their [Knights] to victory.

The greater the strength, skill, and adaptability of their opponent, the more irritable, excited, or even bored the duo will be once the battles is won and DELTA has returned to her human form. It really depends of the enemy.

Do you know why I say won? Because DELTA can SAVE and LOAD, set back the clock and redo whatever whenever she wants. The enemy can win as many times as they want, but DELTA can close the gap of skill by LOADing again and again, learning while the enemy cannot remember. She only needs to win the battle once, SAVE, and then her and Kris's victory is the only one that matters.

DELTA and Kris even use this power to flat out change any mistakes they make or dodge scuffles altogether during the Ball. It seems battles they engage in and bother to win are ones they cannot avoid.

Oh? This a multiplayer server where progress can't be undone? This power applied to one user per World (see Flowey), ergo, DELTA's ability as what is essentially a video game player is exclusive to her. Everyone else gets reset like any other NPC. She is the [RED SOUL], and the future is in her hands.

Of course, UNDERTALE proves that this results in deja Vu and other deities may catch wind or be flat out aware of what's going on. Stronger, older beings might even be able to fight against her power or shut it down entirely.

Maybe my talk of the Angel's powers is DELTA's enthusiasm infecting ME even, maybe she isn't as overpowered as I make herself out to be.

Maybe these kids are in over their heads. Maybe when someone challenges them, Kris will collapse, defeated by the opposition, DELTA, will bring up the SAVE File and try to avoid or restart this battle, but no matter how much she tries to LOAD, it doesn't do it's magic. She'll look up, staring at the enemy in the eyes, and the Angel of No Vessel, unable to defend herself, freeze like a Darkner transforming into Stone, and under the opponent crumble into the dust of Monsters she fought for.

°•°⚪°•°

DELTA!

Stay determined. . .

THE FUTURE IS IN YOUR HANDS.

DELTA

♥️

Celestial Ball

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°•°⚪°•°

These kids just want to have fun at the Ball, and this is their first time interacting with an actual Deity EVER! And there's so many from so many worlds and Plus Ones as well! Oh, and this is a Celestial Ball, DELTA just *has* to explore every nook and cranny of the place. When she does burn out on socializing, she is focusing her whole being on SCREENSHOTing, taking in the view of the area, and getting a good look for the camera.

For all her talk of being the Angel who guides the Saviors of world's to happy endings, who freed the Monster from the Underground in UNDERTALE, and help the Three HEROES of Legend seal wild Dark Fountains, she doesn't bring up the whole powers of SAVE and LOAD at all.

She's an Angel as young as a teenage human, around Kris's age (once she was around the age of Frisk, waking up on a bed of flowers). With untapped potential to become a real God compared to other well-aged Divinities, she and Kris wholly understands that they're out of their depth here.

Not everyone is benevolent, Flowey taught her that most well.

Thus the Queen and Knight must keep their greatest strengths all to themselves. never revealing them. When inquired about her power to SAVE and LOAD they'll play dumb ("THERE'S SOMEONE WITH TIME TRAVEL POWERS??? I HAVE TO FIND THEM!") and change the topic or run off to find the time traveler.

That isn't to say that DELTA's actions are a mask, she's wholly honest about her enthusiasm, spontaneous twirls that make her skirt spin, wild hand movements flapping her sleeves, and bragging. She's geniune about this. She won't even say that she takes advantage of how other would assume her a stupid and weak false god who needs to be brought down a peg to hide the full scope of her powers. She'd just say it's their fault for being so stupid and judgemental.

So all she blabbers about is the Delta Rune Legend and Prophecies, told by Time and Space, and the epic tales of these myths fruitions.

When inquired about the more bloody way of fulfilling these Prophecies and Legends—

("Making everything worse defeats the point of being an Angel dummy!")

When it comes to drama though, between DELTA's power to SAVE and LOAD, but absence of experience in interacting with other gods, who do we pity? The duo or whoever they face off against? Only Mist, our host can tell us for sure.

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

{There's some terminology in the fashion of my OC's introduction, so if you don't understand what I'm saying like [bishop sleeves] for example, googling should show you what I'm talking about, sorry for any confusion 😅}

{So uh yeah, DELTA is not a god herself but instead the creation of a Divine entity or more, an Angel. Nevertheless, she has the potential to ascend to godhood. What that entails however is a mystery}

{I imagine that DELTA completed the True Pacifist route for UNDERTALE and spares everybody in DELTARUNE. Toriel saved her from dying to Flowey, poor impressionable girl, and she got real attached to her Goat Mom thanks to that. If her savior says she should be kind and SPARE enemies, why shouldn't she when the same kindness was extended to her?}

{She's also the subject of all Delta Rune prophecies, legends, etc., The Angel it speaks off. Angels cannot interact with mortal realms without a body to inhabit as they don't have their own. They're just a soul. And in DELTA's case she has to control of a human body or be placed in a vessel with assistance. She cannot remove herself from whoever she controls, she's stuck with them. Only in divine domains can she remove herself from her vessel and take on a form with her SOUL powers}

{With the Prophecy in UNDERTALE, she didn't like the 'Angel of Death' interpretation, but understood where it came from and resolved to not fulfill the Prophecy through massacre. She's not entirely sure of what the ANGEL'S HEAVEN is, it's relation to her, nor why something she somehow is connected two would be a threat to Lightner's or Darkner's. ("But Angels are meant to be the Guides of Saviors! What do you mean it's going to bring calamity? That doesn't make any sense!)"}

{Does the duo get a SAVE point in the Ball? Can they save and reload as they wish? Do they still have 3 files? Or are they denied their powers completely? At certains points of time? By who? Is the freedom and restriction of their power somewhere in-between this?}

{On one hand we can have the comedy of these two teenagers wrecking gods and their plus ones in battle, with only some attendants being any of the wiser about the discarded timelines where the *duo* got curbstomped again and again and again instead}

{On the other hand, soul crushing angst}

• • •

(DELTA stared at the SAVE menu, refusing to LOAD, this was worse than Omega Flowey. At least there others would to help her. Here everyone was relishing in her loss, and Kris suffering for it.)

(Was this the ANGEL'S HEAVEN? The overwhelming force of Angels and their creator Deities, who would bring Calamity to both the Light and Dark Worlds?)

(Ah, she really was stupid and young. She isn't an Angel of Prophecy and Legend anymore but a rock to be kicked aside while everything and everyone she loved was torn apart. There's no destiny to protect her from gods greater than her.)

( * You called for help. . . )

( * But nobody came.)

( * I'm so sorry Kris. . . everyone. . . )

( * I can't save you from HEAVEN. . .)

( * We're all going to die. . . )

c r a c k

• • •

{You have the absolute freedom to play with DELTA however you want, go ham, I wanna see the shenanigans she and Kris get up too.}

At the door,wearing a dress of sage green that faded into dust at the ends,Is Mist. She nods to the duo,speaking with a voice as soft as the wind and as sweet as honey.

"Welcome to the Celestial Ball DELTA. I hope you have a wonderful time." The lady smiles through her clear veil,eyes showing nothing but kindness. There seemed to be a save point here,right after Mist welcomed then in. One save later,and they were inside the grand hall. Two winding stairs were infront of them,decorated with vines and roses. A short lady,one with pale complextion and long hair tied into a high ponytail walked up to them,doing a curtsy when she greeted them.

"Hello there. I suppose you're here for the ball?" She raised an eyebrow as she spoke the question,looking DELTA and Kris up and down. She studied them for a moment,before nodding. "Please,follow me. I shall lead you to the main ballroom." She began to walk swiftly away,with the duo following close behind. She looks back at them slightly,before speaking. "May I get your names?" She says,high pitched voice echoing through the room.

"I am [DELTA the RED SOUL],and this is my Kight,[Kris the Lightener Knight of Hometown and Castle Town],from the world of DELTARUNE" DELTA speaks first,nodding .

"I'm also from UNDERTALE!" Kris pipes up a second later. The lady nods,coming to a large set of doors.

"Well then, welcome to the Celestial Ball." She opens the doors,and they find themselves standing at the top of a large stairway. The conversation stills,and everyone turns to look at the trio. The lady clears her voice. "I Formally introduce DELTA, the RED SOUL,and her kight, Kris. Hailing from UNDERTALE and DELTARUNE." The lady says,voice carrying throughout the large ballroom. She then bows before opening the large doors and leaving. The doors slam behind her,and conversation continues. The duo head to the floor,looking around at the ballroom. It was quite enchanting,with a beautiful crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A man walks up to them,wearing a deep purple vest overtook his black button up shirt. His brown hair is tied into a ponytail,one that is a lot more voluminous then Mist's. He holds out his hand,a small smile on his face.

"I suppose you are new to the Celestial Realm? I've never seen you around before." He smiles again,this one full of teeth. DELTA shakes his hand,nodding.

"Yes,we're new. You are?" The man laughs.

"Oh yes! Silly me,I forgot to introduce myself. Geppidon,pleased to meet you." Geppidon smiles. "Tell me about yourself!"

DELTA grins. "I am DELTA,the Angel of all Delta Runic Lores! And here is my grand champion of the Legend: Kris! The Lightner Knight of Hometown and Castle Town, Human of the Three HEROES!" She's a bit loud,and some turn thier heads to stare at the group. Geppidon raises an eyebrow.

"My,that is quite the introduction! I'm sure you'll enjoy the party. I have some business to attend to,so I shall catch up with you later." Geppidon bows,before turning around and waving as he dissappears into the crowd. DELTA is eager to introduce herself to more Deities,so she flits around the ballroom,bragging about her and Kris the entire time. Soon the entire Ballroom has heard of the new young God. Some,like Geppidon,are amused. DELTA swears she can see him observing her from afar. Yet every time she makes eye contact,he moves from his spot,going to speak to some high-ranking Celestial God.

However,DELTA can tell that not everyone enjoys her antics,and she decides to stick to the pepole who seem to enjoy her company.

After a bit,she and Kris decide to speratre,with Kris making a beeline to the food table. DELTA decides to speak with Geppidon,who's standing off to the side with 2 other Deities. Geppidon waves her over,and the two turn around. One is a Goddess with a soft figure and a beautiful purple dress. One of her eyes is pitch black while the other seems to hold the entire galaxy in it's depths. The other deity looks DELTA up and down hauntingly. Geppidon smiles,waving his hand elegantly towards the Goddess.

"Erus,my younger sister." He then waves his hand towards DELTA. "Erus,this is the young new Deity everyone's been talking about,DELTA." The goddess nods,smiling.

"Why hello there DELTA. It's lovely to meet you." Her voice is much like Mist's,but it's deeper in tone. DELTA nods in response. Geppidon waves towards the other God.

"That is Helius. Helius,this is,as you know,DELTA." Helius snorts in response.

"I'm well aware. I've heard the chatter." He pauses. "DELTA,we were discussing our world's. Please,do tell me about yours." He sounds a bit condescending. DELTA shakes it off and smiles,going into a spiel about her freinds. Halfway through the story,Kris approaches and stands next to DELTA,who has begun to praise them.

About a quarter way through,Helius cuts her off. "I'm sorry,but I cannot listen to this childish babbling any longer. Young one,if you wish to be accepted into this society,you must learn to not babble on and on. Good day." He scoffs and walks away,annoyed. Geppidon shakes his head,while Erus gives them an apologetic look as she walks after the man. Geppidon sighs deeply,clearly annoyed.

"I apologize for his...disrespect. We'll have to continue this conversation later DELTA,my apologies." Geppidon gives a small,conciliatory smile as he goes off after the two deities,leaving a silent and slightly confused DELTA and Kris.

The duo decides to explore the Ballroom,getting tired of all the socializing. They flit around,taking screenshots and exploring the entire area. They find many different small details,like a room off to the side that was seemingly meant for the Deities who didn't enjoy lots of socializing. The gift table for the guests had very beautiful accessories,ranging from Masquerade masks to wing jewelry. It was quite grand,and DELTA decided to find Mist later to ask for a full tour around the palace.

However,she found that she would get a tour sooner rather then later,as Kris crumbled to the floor,heavily injured. Helius stood above her. "Did you really think your power would work on Celestial Deities? We are older and more powerful than you will ever know child." Helius spits,words dripping with distan and venom. "I knew from the moment you walked in that you were nothing but trouble. And I was right." He was about to land the final blow,when mist pushes through the crowd,trailed by two angels and the lady the duo had met at the start.

"Helius,you know much better than to pick on younger Deities." Her usual kind eyes had hardened. "Please leave the premises Helius. You are not welcome here any longer." She then turns to the lady. "Becca,please lead DELTA and Kris to the medical ward. I shall be there shortly." The lady nods,and helps Kris up. She leads them away without a word,and DELTA can hear Mist telling everyone to continue just before the doors slam behind her. Why had she challenged him? She was in way over her head from the beginning. She had almost failed everyone,just because she thought she could dupe literal Celestial Deities. What was she even thinking? She wasn't even a Deity herself.

What had she been thinking?

****

[whispersinthedawn]

Stuck in Your Head (Part 1)

Persia (and wasn't that strange – an alternate version of Percy had been dragged into his world with her clothes tattered and smoking from the trip) continued her performance. Sighing dreamily, she murmured, “Yes, the good old times. When you could see Venus past the cloud of pollution, when Mount St Helens had yet to erupt, when Long Island was still in one piece, and oh right. When the Sun chariot was still in the sky and not crashed in California setting off wildfires that my seven-year-old son has to go put out.”

By the end, her voice had gone flat, and she looked supremely unimpressed.

“Seven-year-old son?” Percy asked weakly.

He couldn’t even imagine how to begin responding to the rest.

***

It might have been Percy Jackson's second time at Olympus, but just from prior experience, he could firmly cross the place off his list of dream destinations. After all, though it hardly seemed possible, this second try was going even worse than the first.

Last time, it had only been Zeus threatening to destroy him for a crime he hadn't committed. This time? At least two other gods were urging the rest of the Olympians that really, blasting Percy Jackson and Thalia Grace, and for good measure, Bessie the Ophiotarus, for the sole crime of existing, was the best thing after ambrosia.

And it had started well enough too…

Well, if you counted a vote to not disintegrate them a good beginning.

Of course, just when he thought they were about to face the blazing end of a lightning bolt, three old ladies showed up. Then proceeded to rip open a rift in time and space and the fabric of the very Universe itself to pull through two strangers.

Discombobulated as nature willed, the two hapless individuals collapsed on the floor and just imitated fish tossed out of water. Beautiful fish out of water, because Fates forbid the three old ladies drag in anyone without a celestial tinge to their looks.

“If you are pointing out the possibilities of destroying a child of Fate, should not we have a voice?” one of the crones, who had a huge pair of scissors hanging at her waist, asked.

The gods all seemed to take in a collective breath at that.

“What is this,” the strange woman demanded as she shoved her way into a standing position.

As Percy looked closer, he reconsidered his earlier impression. The familiarity hadn't arisen from her no doubt demigod status – but from the fact that she possessed a strange resemblance to his mother. 

The woman backed up into the man collapsed behind her protectively, who took that chance to prop his head on the back of her thigh.

That appeared to worry her even more. “Are you alright?”

The question was clearly aimed at her companion, but it was the Fate with a spindle in her hand who answered. “Phoebus Apollon is a God of Order. He cannot expect to take a trip through chaos without fraying.”

The way she said chaos made it sound like it ought to be capitalised.

“Apollo?” Artemis asked blankly.

Apollo himself looked taken aback as he pointed at the newcomers. “Hey now, I look a lot better than that! And I certainly haven’t done anything to get thrown into Chaos!”

He wasn’t wrong. Though the newcomer was also blonde, that was where all resemblance ended. He looked older and harsher, as if the solar winds had tempered him and left mementos behind.

The maybe god, whom the Fates seemed to be indicating was another Apollo, finally lifted his head to look at the gods. His golden eyes belonged to someone who had barely survived some unnameable horror that his soul was still screaming at.

He said hoarsely, “Well maybe next time, don’t touch a symbol of power you know has driven the rest of Olympus mad.”

“Apollo?” The woman pleaded, ignoring the others. He shook his head and muttered, “I’ll be fine.”

The way his voice quavered did nothing to reassure her.

She turned to peer at the Fates, reluctantly moving onto the next order of business now that her companion didn’t seem about to croak on the marble floors of Olympus. “Are we like, in the past or something?”

She didn’t appear to believe her own words.

“This is not your world, Persia Jackson. But yes, one might say this is a point in time you have already left behind,” the only Fate who had yet to speak answered.

“Jackson?” Percy burst out. “Is she my sister or something?”

Perhaps someone else would have been more hung up on the whole alternate dimension thing, but just last year, Percy had discovered that the Greek Gods were real, he was descended from one of them, and oh yeah, everyone and their aunt wanted to kill him.

When one added to the list the facts that the Gods frequently turned people into plants, the sky was actually a landslide worth of rocks that constantly tried to flatten Earth, and oh yeah, he’d just lost two friends on a quest to recover another? This seemed nothing out of the ordinary.

A sister from his mom’s side was practically noteworthy in comparison.

Persia Jackson looked at him for the first time. Her narrowed eyes then proceeded to rove over Annabeth, Thalia, and Grover.

“More like an alternate version of you,” she mused with a glance at the Fates.

With a start, Percy realised that he knew that look, not as something he’d seen before but rather something he’d struggled with feeling himself. She was simmering inside. It burned her to be nice to the people here.

Zeus rumbled, “So are we to just believe her as she tells us how keeping her alive is the only way to keep Olympus standing?”

Despite her mild-manner, there was a meanness to Persia’s words that surprised Percy. “Oh, I wouldn’t say Olympus is standing exactly. After all, you’re pretty good at destroying everything you touch, Lord Zeus.”

“You dare!” Zeus raised his hand and a lightning bolt appeared in it.

The sight galvanized the Apollo practically hiding behind Persia as he too raised a hand. No symbol of power glowed to life, but a heat haze surrounded the two that must have meant something to the other Gods.

Athena hurriedly interceded, “It might be prudent to listen to what the Moirae have to say before making any decisions, Father. I doubt they would take such a step lightly.”

Zeus subsided though the stormy cast to his features remained.

“Should you not be more respectful Persia Jackson? Are you not glad we brought you here?” one of the Fates, and Percy was starting to wish he knew which one, asked.

He got his wish a second later as Persia spoke. “That would depend on if you pulled us out or merely intercepted our journey, Lady Clotho. After all, I was under the impression you spun the threads of fate out of chaos, not entire people. Or was I wrong?”

“She’s going to die,” Thalia whispered beside him.

Percy couldn’t exactly deny it. Persia seemed to be deliberately provoking the Fates. Though perhaps she assumed that since they were in another world, the old goddesses had no power over her. Somehow, he didn’t think saying that would do her any good when she was being blasted to ashes.

Clotho laughed, though there was something dangerous about it. “So, you do have some sense though not nearly enough to hold your tongue. Yes, Khaos was kind enough to throw you back, but it is we who have fashioned you this form.”

Persia raised her eyebrows and glanced at her ripped jeans and shirt. She looked as if she’d been rained on by burning embers, been forced to jump into mud to put out the fires, and then a giant had helpfully stomped on her for good measure. “Thank you.”

The sad part? The only reason Percy could tell she was being sarcastic was because that’s what he would have felt. The gratitude in her voice could have starred in an Oscar worthy Broadway number. And he wasn’t certain Broadway did Oscars.    

Lachesis, and it must be her since the other one with the shears had to be Atropos, said mock-sweetly, “Yes, this gives you a chance to catch your breath, revisit cherished memories, discover things you might have thought lost, before going back and trying to save it all.”

Persia looked at them suspiciously for a moment before asking, “Revisit cherished memories? Don’t you mean make new ones? I could go to a One Direction concert, get signed autographs from Robert Downey Junior before he gets too famous, win a lottery.”

She seemed to get more excited as she spoke, doing a little twirl as if she were a teenage girl again. When she came to a stop though, she stood a little away from … Phoebus? Yeah, Percy was going to call that guy Phoebus while the original could keep his name.

As everyone except Aphrodite, who nodded at Persia’s priorities, stared at her in disbelief, Artemis took the opportunity to sidle close to Phoebus. She passed him some chunks of ambrosia, which he took with a grateful smile before popped them into his mouth like candy.

Persia, meanwhile, continued her performance. Sighing dreamily, she murmured, “Yes, the good old times. When you could see Venus past the cloud of pollution, when Mount St Helens had yet to erupt, when Long Island was still in one piece, and oh right. When the Sun chariot was still in the sky and not crashed in California setting off wildfires that my seven-year-old son has to go put out.”

By the end, her voice had gone flat, and she looked supremely unimpressed.

“Seven-year-old son?” Percy asked weakly.

He couldn’t even imagine how to begin responding to the rest.

Read it on ao3

[shivada-jade]

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modern!au/idol!au

characters: aether, lumine mentions: venti, xiao, kazuha, barbara, azhdaha warning(s): swearing because lumine and aether are siblings

notes: i've been lACKING these idol au's so im gonna write more idol au's because i nEEED it

You were seven when you were introduced to the twins. Coming from a foreign land, you struggled with the language they spoke in, but they were patient with you and taught you their language and much more. The twins were multilingual and explained it was from their frequent traveling and relatives from different places.

You and the twins were close, but Lumine spent more time with you, making Aether whine a lot. He would always poke sticks at you and hide your legendary, full art Pokemon cards to catch both Lumine's and your attention. It does work, but Lumine's mad.

"Aether!" She'd scream with a lisp because of a missing tooth. "Stop doing that!"

Oh, but Aether is a sibling, meaning he'd play the 'innocent' card. "Stop doing what? What am I doing?"

In the end, you'd always have to call their parents when they fist fight at the sand pit. "Aether and Lumine's mom! They're fighting again!"

"Again?" The tall blonde sighed. "Thanks for telling me, hon."

After a good scolding, Aether and Lumine would be totally okay the next minute like nothing happened. You were used to their banter and rightfully took your Pokemon cards back. Lumine stuck a tongue out, blowing a raspberry at Aether when he turned his back, grabbing three large sticks.

"Fight me!" He cried with glee, giving one stick to his sister and one to you. "I will be the grand king of the sand pit!"

You vaguely remember the rest. Maybe you lost the 'sword duel,' or maybe you didn't, but what you did remember was this tall kid playing with his cat and eating the sand. Forget the kid, the only thing you remember is his cat's name called Azhdaha.

Your hands close your story book. You would never admit to your friends, but Lumine and Aether that you still read fantasy. The other kids in the neighbourhood would laugh saying what you were reading is a kid's story.

"So what if it's a kid's story? If you like it, read it," Lumine says aggressively while Aether opens the door for both of you.

"Lumi's right. They think they're all grown up, but they're kids too," he closes the door behind him, waving goodbye to your grandma rocking on the porch. "What's the story about anyway?"

You walk ahead, leading the two to a local mall. Every week, Aether, Lumine and yourself would spend Fridays and Saturdays together.

You and Lumine often joke how Aether doesn't do 'Saturdays are for the boys.' To which, Aether would scoff and reply with, "Boys who say that are stupid, not all but most. Saturdays are for spending time with people you care about. I don't care if they think I'm weak."

You step foot in the bus, tapping the card to pay for your admission. The twins, walk behind, doing the same and sitting next to you on the bus.

"It's called 'Songs of a Siren.' It's cool, you should check it out." You say, scooting a bit closer to the side so Lumine could have more pace to sit. The bus is packed. Teenagers littered inside, only a few adults were there including the bus driver. "Let's leave. Teenagers stink."

"...But you are one."

"Well-"

After the next stop, you push yourself through the crowd, trying to exit. Lumine pushes people, muttering a few 'excuse us' while dragging her brother. Your feet land on the concrete sidewalk and you finally breathe freely.

You see the twins finally get off the bus and tilt your head, "Let's go, the mall isn't gonna wait for us."

Entering the mall, the first thing you pass by is a clothes shop. You and Aether share a look, quietly doing rock-paper-scissors behind Lumine who's beaming to go inside.

Rock.

Aether chooses paper.

You droop to the floor because you're dramatic, knowing that once you go in the shop, you'll be the one carrying Lumine's purchases.

"Alright, Lumine," you say sighing. "Let's go shop."

You see Aether in your peripheral vision, pumping his fist laughing a quiet, "Yes!" when Lumine takes out her wallet.

"I know you did rock-paper-scissors." She counts the bills from her wallet, "But I'm buying for Aether which means even if you carry the things I buy, Aether's gonna have it much worse because he will be trying on everything I tell him to wear." She grins, settling with a black debit card.

After hearing this, Aether tries to walk in another shop to avoid dressing up for Lumine, but his sister quickly catches on and pulls him by the ear and walks in the clothes shop.

"Let's go!" She says to you, "These clothes won't shop themselves!"

...

"This one?"

"No, you look like grandpa in that outfit."

"Well what if I like looking like grandpa, huh? What are you gonna do about it?"

"Some people can pull off the sexy grandpa look. You're not 'some people.'" Lumine pulls out another outfit from the rack. "Try this one," she laughs, seeing Aether's horrified face and pushes him in the dressing area.

This is the ninth clothes shop you three go to, and you were starting to feel bad for Aether who had to wear every outfit Lumine wanted him to wear.

"Lumi," you say calmly, having trouble holding five shopping bags on each arm. She's on a shopping spree and you wonder how she gets all the money to buy these things. "That should be enough shopping for the day. I'm hungry."

The blonde lifts a hand. "Hold on a second," she smiles before banging on the changeroom door, "AETHER LET ME SEE THE FIT."

You can hear the loud sigh from the other side of the door as it slowly opens. He only peeks his head out, shyly mumbling, "This is embarrassing. I don't want to walk out like this."

Lumine rolls her eyes and pulls the door open, revealing Aether in a white dress shirt and dark pants.

Aether lifts an arm, inspecting the design. "It's a bit..." he pauses, thinking of a way to not offend his sister. "It's not my style." His eyes seek for your help to back him up, but you couldn't. The style on him looks so ethereal to him, and Lumine has the same idea.

His twin ran up to an aisle and picked out two accessories: a silk cloth and a floral pin. Lumine shushes Aether who tried to punch her.

"Shut up Aether, you'll look great." She pins the black rose onto the front of his shirt and ties the silk cloth around his neck. She steps a few steps back, making a rectangle shape to symbolize a picture frame and elbows you lightly. "He looks okay for once."

Okay is underwhelming, but to describe Aether better, he looks celestial. The warm studio lights hug every angle of Aether from head to toe. His golden eyes seem to brighten more and the outfit only accentuates his physical traits more.

From the corner of your eye you spot a tall-ish man who has been wandering past the same aisle but never picking anything up. He wears ordinary clothes- a T-shirt and jeans (rather stylishly), but you know from his incoming aura he's more than just an ordinary person.

You tap Lumine discreetly while still holding onto her shopping bags and tilt your head towards the man.

Aether, who keeps picking on the cloth around his neck goes frigid when the strange man walks up to him.

"Hey kid," he says cooly. He looks Aether up and down, lifting his shades to see clearer, and pulls out a small business card from his pocket. "You look like idol material. Ever thought about being a part of a boyband?"

Out of politeness, Aether takes the card and laughs nervously, "Not really" He looks at Lumine and you for help, but you two pretend to not know him when he turns to you.

The man shoves his hands in his pocket, blowing a bubblegum and popping it. His hair slightly tousles when he turns, waving a hand.

"If you ever do decide if you wanna be an idol, auditions are held next week at 10AM," he saunters off. "If they ask who recruited you, tell them a man by the name of Valentin did."

His lavender irises looks back once more before leaving the store, "The people from Teyvat Entertainment are introduced by my very hands. Don't disappoint me."

The automatic sliding doors open for him and he waves the store greeter a goodbye.

You see Aether's eyes scanning over he card Valentin gave. His lashes flutter quickly, signaling you and Lumine he was either shocked, or confused.

Lumine grabbed the paper, a habit she picked up due to being a twin and having to share everything with Aether who won't share. Her lips part, showing the card to you.

Teyvat Entertainment.

A company who created the world's famous DCKZ and the idol, Barbara. Teyvat Ent. has one of the youngest, top rookies of the year because of a group called TVT Dream. A company with many celebrities' and the business card is legit.

A store worker no older than your age meekly walks up to the three of you and asks, "Hey, uh. Are you ready to purchase your clothes?"

...

Aether shoves Lumine (don't worry she shoves him 10x harder) on the stairs while you watch from a safe distance.

You wave hello to their mom before waltzing into their home like you did many other times. You were their third child in their mom's eyes.

You slam the twins' room open and lay yourself on the bottom bunk of their bunkbed. "So do you wanna check Teyvat Entertainment?"

You fish out your phone from your pocket and hand signal for Aether and Lumine to come close to see. Your phone turns on, showing the lock screen of the twins in their embarrassing toddler moments then unlock it. Quietly laughing at the twins who have their faces beet red from the photograph.

"Why do you have that pic? DELETE IT."

"Did mom give that to you..."

You ignore them, opening up Google and typing in the Teyvat Ent. website and search their contacts. You ask Aether for the business card, comparing the two numbers side by side, and Valentin is indeed one of the scouts for the company.

You shut your phone off, hugging the two siblings together tightly. "Whether Aether decides he wants to be an idol or not, we'll still be the best of friends."

Lumine grins, squishing your cheeks, taking a closer look at you. "Well, duh. Are you scared we'll fall apart? No, if anything you should be scared we're never going to leave you alone even if you're 60 and married."

You pinch her cheeks and start to say something until you hear sniffles and coughing. You turn to Aether who was hiding his tears.

"Shut up, I'm not crying." He harshly wipes away the water falling from his eyes, "When I go famous, I'm going to give you my autograph so you can sell it and eventually get 20 cars and houses."

...

You were a teen when the dark-haired Valentin scouted Aether to be a trainee in Teyvat Ent.

You note that without Aether, their home is extremely quiet. It's odd not seeing Lumine scream at Aether for taking her hair clips. It's odd not seeing Lumine aggressively pull on the colourful flower hairclips on Aether's hair, just to get the clips back. It's so odd not seeing Aether is general.

Lumine scrolls through her phone, looking for furniture to add to her new apartment she shares with you. The only thing in the newly bought apartment is three mattresses, three plates, and three cups, just in case Aether visits. Though, Aether visiting is rare. His visits only happen during December for Christmas, but even then he had not visited. It's been two years since you and Lumine last saw him.

You stare at your last sent messages to the blonde boy.

▶ hEY. (threatening)

YO

▶ take care okay? lumine's worrying all the time for ur health bc she keeps watching yt vids on how idols over-do themselves from training

haha thanks for telling me

are you sure it's not you who's worrying 🧐🤧

the last thing lumi sent to me was "FUCK YOU"

▶ well the last thing you sent to her was "U BUTT"

▶ and she took that seriously

are you siding with her?

▶ yes

oh okay, frick you too seen three months ago

Your feet pad against the wooden tiles, grabbing a glass of water while scrolling through twitter. You lift the glass to your lips and almost choke from the water you drink.

You click the link on the phone with the title "Debuting boy band already claiming the hearts of many! Please welcome 4nemo!" Four boys stand in the picture, one being Aether.

You place your glass to the sink and run to Lumine, sitting next to her and who her your phone. She reads it over and visibly shakes. You swear she was about to cry until she takes the phone from your hand and starts throwing it, "AETHER THAT BITCH. HE DEBUTES AND SAYS NOTHING."

You're mortified and pull your friend away from your phone, "THAT'S A NEW PHONE, STOP." You push her away and run to your device, clicking on the link.

"One, two, three! Hello we are," Aether, the familiar blonde says.

His group members follow after him. "4nemo!" They say in chorus. One by one they start introducing themselves.

"Hi I'm Aether!"

"Kazuha," one says with a raise of a hand.

An energetic member steps up with a grin, "And I'm Barbisabeto!"

"He's Barbatos, forgive him." Teal undertones make it's way to the camera, "Hello, I'm Xiao.

The one with twin braids step up, mischievously grinning. "Please take care of us and support us during our journey through the music industry."

His teal eyes squint behind the camera, whispering to the member behind him. "Psst, Xiao. I can't read I'm blind."

Xiao rolls his eyes and steps up, slightly bowing, "Please support our debuting group, we will see you in our music videos."

But Lumine and you never paid attention to what they were saying. Both of you just started crying insults of endearment to Aether because he looks so... different. His face had mature and he's a real idol now.

Reality sinks in.

Now that Aether had a growing fanbase, it's going to be harder to contact him.

"Lumine, how are we going to talk to him now?"

Lumine ponders a bit, resting her chin on her hand before smirking. "Let's create an Aether hate page."

"Yes, let's do it."

After a quick recording of Lumine and yourself, you posted the video online, and soon enough, it goes viral.

Lumine laughs, replaying the video.

"This one's for the boys with the booming system," You say monotonously in front of the camera like what you said was a speech instead of a song. "Top down, AC with the cooler system."

Lumine comes on screen, flipping her middle finger at the camera. "When he come up in the club, he be blazin' up. This one is actually not for the boys with the booming system. This is for the BITCH, AETHER WITH THE BLONDE BRAID. Look at you with your ugly ass smile," She speaks in one breath and it amazes you. "Make sure you get millions of hits or it's all for nothing. Oh Aether's an ass."

The screen shows your hand scooping the phone up and waving good bye with Lumine still dissing Aether.

You nudge Lumine, showing a comment written at the bottom of the video, covering a laugh.

"who's aether?"

"huh??! aether?"

"lOL Why Does The Person On The Left Look Like Aether?"

"OH 4NEMO DABUTE. SHUTUP YOU ANTI. THEY'RE GORGEOUS. YOU'RE THE ONE UFLY" ➡ "ahisfdh you obvi didnt watch the whole video. she said "make sure get millions of hits"

Lumine grins, commenting at the people calling her ugly and Aether way better looking. "Lol, IKR. the one on the left is trying too hard to look like Aether. it's like shes tryna be a twin or smthn"

Though, because of your viral "hate" video, 4nemo's popularity sky rockets because of the unknown 'Aether' of the group.

...

Aether watches the video on the news channel, because that's how popular the video got. He looks at his manager, "Can I send a hate video back?"

"Aether, no."

But the winds are troublesome as the ocean, because a boy with teal tips on his hair snatched the managers phone, running and giving it to Aether. "AETHER. DO IT RIGHT NOW."

...

It was a shock to you seeing people follow your twitter account.

"LUMI, [NAME], IM SRRY I LOST MY PHONE AND DIDNT WANNA TELL ANY1 OR THEYLL GROUND ME," said the tweet, tagging you in comments.

Lumine doesn't have twitter, so when she looks over your shoulder seeing the tweet with her name on, she grabs the phone and locks herself in the bathroom, "R U FR AETHER?U DIDNT REPLY TO MY HAPPY BDAY. WE SHARE A BDAY DUMBASS"

She calmly unlocks the door, giving your phone back casually while you whine, "Lumine! This is twitter! They're gonna cancel me!"

"I'll cancel them back."

Ding! You receive a post with you name under the comments again.

hello, i have to apologize for our member stealing the manager's phone to tweet that. i swear that kid's the most responsible, but he's been triggered. #kazuha

You quickly type back, under the hashtag 'kazuha.'

"@/4nemo sorry uh thats one of ur members twin & shes mad that aether never gave her a bday present when she gave 1 to him #kazuha"

notes: psst here's where i got aether's outfit inspo when they were outfit changing at the mall

[emmys-grimoire]

Lesson 51 analysis + 52 predictions

Eh I decided I had enough time and stuff in my head to write this out now.

The Book and the Flower

The book they found and the flower are too coincidental for them not to have any significance in the upcoming arc, so lets analyze them.

A little on the nose. Satan names his kitties after artists. HE LIKES ART, and the books in the library happen to be about art. He remarks that they’re all much more aligned with his interests than the ones in the actual House of Lamentation, except for one...

Geraniums have different (and sometimes contradictory) symbolism dependent on their color. Pink geraniums were supposedly used in love potions. The owner of the library may have someone they admired, or maybe the book is a metaphor for Satan himself.

This may be alluding to the Bible verse Matthew 14:31:

Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?"

We are undertaking trials named after the seven heavenly virtues in order to earn our Sorcerer’s license. We’ve already knocked out temperance and charity, so it may be related to whichever trial this is supposed to be.

Generally, the verse encourages holding onto faith even in the most tempestuous situations, so my guess would be this is the trial of patience. This promises to be a Satan-heavy arc, and he’s the Avatar of Wrath, so he would be a good candidate to assist in that endeavor. Simeon is also the wielder of the Wrath glowstick. It’s angry bois all around!

Strangely enough, Simeon is insistent on moving onto finding Luke and Mammon at this point, and Satan doesn’t get the chance to skim through the actual contents of the book. It’s a little uncharacteristic of him because he’s generally pretty laid back and he doesn’t seem to be in any particular rush to get out of past once when step into it: he’s willing to faff around with the angel brothers first. He does realize this isn’t searching for Luke and Mammon, right?

So an alternative interpretation is that Simeon really did just conjure all this up for Satan like he later accuses, and reading that book might have dispelled the illusion sooner than he’d like. And he’s just a really good actor telling the “okay” lies. But for this to work Barbatos would have to be in on it too... and I can’t see him having that ulterior motive. His arrival at the cafe is pretty timely, though.

It’s probably just the banshee, and Simeon is just being opportunistic and trying to get Satan to work through his problems along the way. Since he actually likes this period of time, he may not be in a great hurry to leave.

Beelzebub’s Hunger Pangs

In this lesson we learn that Beelzebub is growing quite the appetite and he and the brothers are confused by it. They have good reason to be, because Beelzebub wasn’t a glutton when we first interacted with his past angel self!

This leads me to believe MC meddling with the past may have unintentionally triggered something in past angel Beel that’s unravelling in his timeline. Michael warns us about this effect after he fishes us out of the past the first time. It doesn’t seem like it’s something he can reverse.

I think he means this past Beelzebub is now reacting to our presence in this particular timeline, and we’re jumpstarting the demonic impulses now, sooner than they would normally manifest. In our timeline, he may have let himself go after he fell. Whoops.

The angel bros are also quite certain they know MC now, and “Sully”, which could also mean there’s some kind of transfer going on between their past and present selves with MC at the center, and that might affect how the future unfolds. Which is... not necessarily good.

Compare and Contrast: Simeon vs. Lucifer

We learn that Simeon is very at home in the time period he steps into. He loves the air, and he admits this was the brightest spot of his life.

Simeon was a Seraphim alongside Lucifer and Michael in this period of time. They’re implied to be the rulers of the Celestial Realm, and though Simeon still seems to answer to Michael and Lucifer, he was still close to the seat of power and he was likely involved in determining how the Celestial Realm functioned. It’s implied that the Seraphim spent most of their time in the Celestial Palace: Simeon having fond memories of the time spent there means he enjoyed whatever it is they do there.

Buuuut... I think this may revolve around his affection for Lucifer and Michael more than any of the other Seraphim. It’s implied that he and Michael have a long history together, and that likely applies to Lucifer as well; I think they grew up and climbed the celestial ranks together. He was demoted after the Great Celestial War for reasons left unexplored so far, but it’s telling that functionally his position hasn’t changed and he’s still answering to Michael -- and as far as we know, only Michael. And not all the time lol.

In contrast, Lucifer seems to have tried to mentally bury all his Celestial Realm memories. He acknowledges it wasn’t all bad but those memories for him are far and few in between. He sure as hell doesn’t like to bring them up or discuss them, and will flagrantly lie about it when someone tries to pry some kind of sentiment out of him.

My guess is that Lucifer, and possibly Michael, have a unique relationship with their lovely father that resulted in trauma powerful enough to completely eclipse all the good times Lucifer may have had in the Celestial Realm. Lucifer outright hates making himself vulnerable in any capacity, so he turns from a metaphorical peacock into a metaphorical porcupine when the Celestial Realm is brought up. He can tangentially discuss it with Simeon and MC, though, however sparsely. He will not reminiscence about it in any other setting.

His brothers might have been the only thing that kept him sane through all that, whatever it was. Considering how much Michael seems to miss the brothers, too, it may have been the same situation with him. He and Lucifer might have shared some good ol’ traumabonding that no one else could really understand, but they might have come to entirely different conclusions on what needed to be done about it.

Demons becoming more angelic…?

In a hard mode lesson in Season 2, Barbatos confronts Lucifer about how much he’s changed and what it might mean for the future. In the context of that season, we’re led to believe that this is referencing the upcoming conflict between him and Diavolo: a conflict implied to force Lucifer to choose between his love for his brothers or his loyalty to Diavolo.

Only that doesn’t really happen in Season 2.

Similar to how MC may be triggering demonic changes in the angel brothers, there’s evidence MC is making the present demon Lucifer more angelic. It doesn’t actually stop here, either.

Lucifer doesn’t immediately revert back to his old self even after he regains his memories after his bout of amnesia. Just how he regained them might be noteworthy, too: it was only after Michael invaded our dreams and left in the wake of the Ring of Light ‘choosing’ MC.

This ability to tug the brothers back and forth along the angel/demon spectrum could be something Michael/Simeon might be keen on taking advantage of to get Lucifer and the brothers back. If angels can turn into demons, then logically demons can turn into angels. We do remember Michael is plotting something, right? And whatever it is, Simeon specifically is being used to carry it out (Luke likely is too clueless to really be of much use in this regard).

What I do know is this isn’t a game that’s going to outright vilify the titular Christian archangel or the sexy nowdateable, so regardless of what it is, it’s more likely to end with reconciliation more than anything else. Diavolo’s exchange program requires cooperation with the Celestial Realm, and I think Michael eventually becoming an ally is the only way it could work. Would not bet on daddy being interested, and I don’t think Simeon is gonna stab everyone and take over. This is a harem otome, not an edgy shounen anime.

Also I want my Luke content, damn it. I hope he shows up in the next lesson and gets to faff around with the angel bros, too. I’m afraid they’re going to shove him off until the very end in favor of Satan x Lucifer bonding part 3. It’ll be difficult to fit TWO meaningful character arcs in one lesson, but I’m hoping they try. Why set up all the inner conflict in Luke right beforehand, otherwise?

Don’t let me down, guys.

[magic1077]

Adella and the Library Tower

Adella climbs sweeping staircases to the upper echelons of the library. Yumi and the others are, in theory, studying in their corner of a floor far below where Adella is now. She ascends through story upon story of unending bookcases filled with the collective records of the universe. 

Each floor of the library consists of a large circular platform held upon sever great stone pillars that run all through the library. The stairs to each floor spiral around the outer perimeter of each platform. Some floors are dedicated to exhibits, recreations of any object that has ever held significance, be it artistic or strictly utilitarian. Many of these exhibits are placed in collections or galleries or auditoriums hidden through networks of doors and hallways branching out from the main platforms on each story. Everything from counterfeits of Anato Finnstark paintings to entire planetariums are tucked away through the halls of the library. Most floors hold nothing but books, often too many for the cases they're shoved into, so they form stacks and piles on the floor. Books containing records and retellings of everything that ever has, is, and will happen forever. 

"I need to make the next set of assignments with Simone. I know that Celeste needs to make up some late homework from class last week, and Yumi seems to be struggling with her math homework." Adells says to herself.

She climbs the infinite tower, peering down onto the platforms as she passes them, in search of Simone.

"I know she said that she'd be on one of the upper floors. But, which one, I don't remember."

Music starts echoing through the tower from above. Gloria’s Step by The Bill Evans Trio. Most of it is lost in a haze of reverb.

“Well, if that doesn’t tell me where Simone is, then I don’t know what will.”

Adella continues climbing up the helix steps. The cloud of reverb becomes an aural miasma permeating the tower. Floors go by as she climbs. One floor she passes holds a recreation of an ancient sun dial. A stone disk large enough to hold several book cases on top of it and still have enough room for a table to sit down at and read comfortably. On it are tiny inscriptions, markers pointing toward different points in the sky, each inscription having a symbol or set of symbols with descriptions to accompany them. If one were to look close enough, the inscriptions, belonging to a language unknown to any remaining peoples, are dyed with blood.

Another floor along the way is so completely and thoroughly littered with books in stacks and piles, that traversing is would mean crawling over the history of an entire branch of the universe. One especially tumultuous branch, it would seem.

At some point, the stairs end. The library does not end, not to anyone’s knowledge. But the stairs end. Adella can see floors above her with no way to reach them directly, and the path ascending the tower veers into a short hallway, at the end of which is another set of tightly wound spiral stairs. Descending the miniature helix brings Adella to a door, on the wall next to it are hooks which hold several large black parasols. She picks one from the wall. The music, only muddier now after veering from the main library column, fills the tower still. She stares at the door in hesitation. I’ve done this once before, with Simone. That means I can do it again, right? The door stands silent before her. She sighs. We need study material for class.

Adella opens the door. Beyond it is the cosmos. The rest of everything outside of the library. Planet systems and constellations drift by, floating on clouds of space dust and caught in the streams stellar radiation. Between each and every body of matter, every world that every person has dreamed of seeing in their twilight years and every star that shone in their eye as a child, every one of those things is connected by strands of red silk. The vermillion silk is spun by celestial moths that weave the web of the universe and spread brightly colored nebulae with the lazy motions of their wings.

Adella closes her eyes and jumps.

With a little bit of grace, and a lot of luck, Adella opens the black parasol, catching an updraft created by the wings of a celestial moth some several light years away. This particular gust of interstellar wind came to be many thousands of years ago, and has only yet run about half of its life cycle as a light breeze. 

Catching the draft, she falls upwards, fortunately, toward another door, suspended in space, to the next layer of the library. With a little bit more luck she catches onto the doorknob and manages to make her way inside. The music is still echoing through the tower, and it’s just a little bit clearer now.

Adella stands on the steps, having placed the parasol back on a hook by the door, and scans the floor she just arrived on. It’s dark, much darker than the layer she calls home. The platform for this floor, instead of holding bookcases full of records and copies of writings from across time, is home to an aquarium. The tank is thriving with marine plant life, but no fish apparently. A tunnel cuts through the center of the tank, small ghostly white lights illuminate the submarine corridor. She walks through, looking into the water both to each of her sides and above her. 

An octopus, almost as big as the sundial, emerges from behind a wall of coral.

“A visitor, I see.” The octopus’s voice, low and menacing, emanates from the glass separating them. As it begins to speak, the entrance to the glass tunnel seals itself shut. “A charming occurrence, at least. Mind you, most visitors to my domain are unwelcomed. Humans, especially. Unless, perhaps you were looking to donate yourself as a specimen to my insignificant fraction of the library. It certainly has been some time since a human was foolish enough to contest with my knowledge of the library.”

Adella opens her mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. She covers her mouth at the realization that her voice is gone.

“You should be grateful, if anything. By taking away your ability to show me how stupid you are, I have, in essance, spared your life by default. I can open the path that you entered through, if only you agree to amuse me by either kneeling where you stand, or admit in your heart of hearts that, as a human, you are beneath me. Of course, anyone who is truly determined to join my waters, however, is welcome to write a message on the note pad right over there.”

A little black notebook sits with a pen on a pedestal not two meters from her. Adella looks back at the octopus, and then walks over to the notepad and begins writing in it. The octopus eagerly watches. For a moment, she thinks about what she's written. She tears that page from the notebook and starts over. The torn page is crumpled up and shoved into the pockets of her dress. When she’s finished, she holds the notepad against the glass.

The octopus stares at her message in silence.

“Truly, you are the most foolish of creatures.”

The space between them condenses to mere centimeters. Adella returns the octopus’s gaze with full resolution.

“And I imagine such foolishness has shown you terrors beyond comprehension. What is the life of an unfortunate wretch like you, if not deeply and thoroughly cursed. Just like that boy with the rings under his eyes. You may take your leave, human, if you’re even that much anymore.”

Adella returns the little black notebook to its resting place, and leaves. It’s a few floors up before she reaches the top of the aquarium. After that are more books. Adella takes her original note from her pocket to look at it again.

shut up:)

"I'll give it this one next time." She folds it neatly and returns it to her pocket.

A few floors up beyond the end of the aquarium, along with the usual bookcases, is home to a rainforest growing out of the floor and walls. Trees even older than the octopus stand between the bookcases. Their roots slither across the floor and up the walls and shelves. Some books and drawers become nearly inaccessible through the vegetation. The sound of Bill Evans chimes through the tower still, becoming progressively clearer with each ascent.

Adella wanders across the roots, following the sound as best she can. Like all floors, a number of different hallways branch out from the main platform, forming a network of nooks and crannies into which tiny pieces of history settle. Adella listens for music coming out of any of the halls. Bill Evans's characteristic heroine piano is strong, the miasma is at its peak standing there outside one of the hallways. This is it.

A tree whose body has grown up and around the entrance to the hall supports itself with thick and heavy roots that partially block it. Adella shoves them, though they only give a little, and she slips through. The music becomes clearer.

Like so very much of the library, the side hallways branch off into any number of directions or distances. Some halls are dead ends, some circle back onto themselves, some lead out into entirely different floors, some lack any logical consistency at all. Warm lamps dot the low ceiling every few meters. Beyond the entrance is a T intersection, both directions yield yet more hallways, these ones lined on both sides with doors. Each of the doors opens to solo practice rooms for musicians or storage closets for instruments. The practice rooms have tall rectangular windows on the doors and are all completely soundproof. Some of the rooms contain instruments, some music stands with scores and manuscripts, some both and some nothing at all but an upright piano. One room she passes by has a viola. On top of the rooms upright piano is the bow and some resin, set down as if they’d been recently used, but the owner got up and left. Another room holds a double bass which stands up in the corner of the room leaning against the wall, and an oboe which lays on the piano bench. Both of them waiting patiently for their masters to return.

The halls twist and turn too many times to keep track of. Instead, Adella follows the sound of music, growing progressively clearer with every turn. Eventually that sound leads her to an incredible set of rouge double doors lined with gold. The doors, being so large, and Adella so small, she uses her whole body to push them open. They’re heavier than any physical object she’s ever moved.

Adella pushes through.

On the other side of the incredible rouge and gold doors is a concert hall fit only for the highest of royalty. Rows upon rows of seats are organized into five sections all converging on the front of the stage. Thousands of seats spectate. This pattern is repeated on three balconies overlooking the stage, and from the upper balconies, even parts of the band pit are visible. The band pit is an alcove, a mote, separating the stage performers from the audience. In it, instruments and chairs and music stands are already set up. Each music stand carries scores for The Rite of Spring by Igor Stravinsky, and tiny lamps with which to illuminate them. From the highest balcony, the dim lights on each music stand come together to form a quiet bonfire where the musicians would burn away at their hearts and bodies.

Lit with golden lights, the stage, in any other existence, would have been one reserved only for those performers and artists and composers and writers who surpassed all other things. Be it by luck, or by celestial intervention, or by the force of their own will, would they have managed to break through the seal of their own wretched existence. Those who commit the atrocity of creating something that reminds others what it means to be alive. For those few individuals or collectives, this stage was made for the purpose of ascension. 

And on this stage sits Simone and a boy with messy black hair and a complexion paler than even Celeste’s. Together they sit cross legged and listen to The Bill Evans Trio’s Sunday at the Village Vanguard on an old Sony CD player. The pause button is missing, and the cheap aluminum grate over the speakers has some rust. The plastic is discolored from age. Aside from the three of them, the concert hall is entirely devoid of life.

Adella walks quietly and politely down to the stage and around the band pit. The song Jade Visions is now coming out of the CD player. On stage, Adella sits down next to Simone and whispers so as to not interrupt the music.

“Simone, we need to collect homework from the others, and we should give them more study material soon. Also, we need to find Alexandrov because he wandered off into the cabinets again.”

The boy with messy black hair smiles and waves at Adella. Dark circles hang under his eyes, though he seems perfectly content nonetheless.

“Hey, hold on,” Simone says. She presses the stop button on the CD player. “Okay, sorry, what did you say?”

Adella stares blankly at the CD player for a second. Well, the thought was nice, I guess. “We need to get the others together so we can have class tonight,” she says. “I told Yumi and Celeste to stay at our study corner and, well, study. So, I imagine they’re in the depths of one of the drawers by now.”

“Oh yeah!” Simone says. “Hey we should show them this CD, it’s really good! Uhm, what’s the name of this artist again, Nicholas?”

“This one is The Bill Evans Trio,” Nicholas says.

“By the way, Adella, this is Nicholas. He helped me out a lot when I first came to the library,” says Simone.

“Ah, I see, in that case it’s nice to meet you Nicholas,” Adella returns his smile from earlier. “You spend most of your time in the higher levels like this, right?”

“Hmmm, I guess so, except there is no ‘higher level’ in here. As I’m sure you noticed, there is no top or bottom to this library. At least, none that I’ve ever found.”

Adella considers this, but remains skeptical. “Well, I guess we won’t know unless we find it. Of course, I suppose I’ve never searched for either end of the tower, just for stuff that I need. Anyway, what do you do up here by yourself?”

“Whatever I want, mostly. Sometimes I just loaf around, and sometimes I try to work towards something. Actually, most of my non-loafing time is dedicated to indexing the contents of the library. Much of the library is already organized, sorta, but there’s so much material that it all just piles up around the cases and tables. And on top of that, there’s no directory or index of any sort that I’ve found so far. So, I like to keep records of all the different groups of related books and artifacts that I find. Like this music hall, for example. This place is not original to the library. Though, normally entire locations don’t become part of the archives like this. In the outside world, the original construction of this concert hall was built and dedicated to a prince who'd been ordained to marry in the name of preserving political peace. Such a marriage never happened, however, when it became publicly known that the prince had an affair with a man who wasn't part of any sort of royalty. That man happened to be a stagehand at this concert hall, but died suddenly after rumors of the affair broke loose. Shortly after, the concert hall burned down, along with half of the upper end of town. You can find histories like this all over the library. The aforementioned example happens to be recorded in a collection of books just outside the hallway that leads here. How I know that this concert hall is connected to that bit of history is just through reading and doing my fair share of sleuth work. So, most things that are related, I find, tend to stay together, albeit unlabeled. You’ve been here for sometime I imagine, so I’m sure you probably noticed that only some of the books are labeled. Any books that are copies of books from the outside retain their original covers, as you’ve seen with scholastic textbooks or novels, but everything else is hit or miss.”

“It’s scary how you can remember all of this stuff sometimes,” Simone says.

Nicholas laughs and scratches his head. “I guess so, it doesn’t feel like a lot though. There’s so much more here. There’s so many stories and tiny bits of history. I get lost in it sometimes.”

“I can understand that,” Adella says. “I get wrapped up in some of the textbooks we have as well. Speaking of which we need to find Alexandrov and get back downstairs,”

“Yeeeaaaah,” Simone sighs.

“Hey, did you say Alexandrov?” Nicholas asks Adella.

“Yeah. He came to the library recently. He’s really quite smart, and all of his work is perfect, but he also frequently wanders off, and it distracts our other--uhm--students.”

“Hey, I’m sure Yumi and Celeste are learning something out there. Maybe. Possibly,” Simone says. “They both just turned thirteen, so they have a lot of energy. Well, Yumi does anyway.”

“Hmmm, I suppose so. But, they still need some form of structure,” Adella says.

A thunderous crash comes from the back of the stage. Adella ducks and shouts, Simone laughs at Adella’s reaction, and Nicholas presses his palm against his forehead.

“LUX,” Nicholas shouts at a red velvet curtain separating the main stage from the back.

The curtain opens, and a person with short platinum blonde hair peeks through.

“Listen, this can be fixed easily! It broke on its own, so don't look at me,” he says defensively from behind the curtain.

Nicholas sighs. “Lux comes around sometimes and gives me more chores to take care of,” he says to Adella. “So, I’m not always by myself up here. For better or for worse.”

Adella and Simone laugh.

“Anyway, if you want, then you can take this CD player with you to show the others.”

“Oh perfect! I was going to take it anyway, so this makes things easier,” Simone says.

Adella rolls her eyes, knowing Simone so well. “I never knew there were others up here,” she says. “I always figured there were other people somewhere, but not so close in proximity or age. Coming here was a nice surprise. I’ll be sure to visit with Simone again soon.”

Nicholas stands up. “Any company is welcome here. Until then,” He says, and heads back to find Lux behind the curtain.

"Well, let's head back," Simone says.

Adella nods. "I left Yumi and Celeste together, so they're probably in one of the drawers with Alexandrov right now," Adella says.

"Probably."

They both leave the theatre the way that Adella came in. Down past the trees, and the aquarium, and the celestial moths, and the sundial. All the way back down to their corner of the library. Simone spends the rest of the evening thinking of things she loves so she can share them with the others. Adella spends the rest of the evening half invested in a book she’d already started as they both await the others' return.

[obeymeluv]

Random Spooky Thing

Something spooky I thought about. I don’t know what really got me thinking about it besides spooky season and the fact that the boys are 5,000+ years old and have probably made secret friends/lovers with a few non-RAD humans over the years.

This is pre-RAD program, post-fall. Boys are still probably at odds with their new demon instincts or have just barely settled into them.

Trigger warning for scary situation. Namely: almost being a legit sacrifice for a demon summoning. 

I also have personal headcanons that the bros used to be Avatars in heaven, but for the trait opposite of their sin (Lucifer would be humility, Mammon would be charity/giving, Asmodeus would be love (I guess?), Satan doesn’t count because I don’t think he was in the Celestial Realm when it all happened (based on where I’m at in the game). Beel championed a good harvest/abundance. and Belphegor had the blessing of reinforcement/encouragement/inspiration/productivity)

Lucifer’s got unexpectedly long so this part will have Lucifer and Mammon only. I have to study for exams and stuff TT_TT

Lucifer:

The concept of being summoned by dark magic is very foreign and forceful. He hates it, and he hates that this is what his life is now

There was a certain beseeching vulnerability to humans when they prayed - it was soft and glowing and he misses it

This is a rough yank, like he’s nothing more than a petulant child that needs to be dragged around. Or worse, some dog. 

He spills out into the human world and it smells of smoke and brimstone and ground ingredients he’s starting to get familiar with 

Lucifer’s used to being intimidating in an angelic way, but he can feel the magic spill off of him here. He can feel his aura manifest into something dark and terrifying.

His eyes now glow in the dark; he can see a reflection of them in the humans’ eyes.

They give a very archaic, overdone address (”O’ great Lucifer...”) and he doesn’t even let them finish before he’s scoffing.

The fall may have broken his wings and shattered his reality, but he’s still fairly arrogant and ready to lash out

There’s a beautiful smell that makes his stomach ache something ungodly now that he’s a demon, and Lucifer realizes with abject horror that a wounded human is somewhere in this room

Celestial Realm or not, his eyes still have the ability to see human souls and intentions. There seems to be a lamb among these idiotic wolves

He sees that dagger rise, the muffled wail enough to pierce his ear and Lucifer snarls as he snatches that hilt in an iron grip

It’s enough to break the human’s grip and send his hands down the dagger, spilling rancid blood

“If you wish to summon me, do it with your own blood. Lay yourself before me and beg.” he says in a voice that is so grating and booming that it makes him flinch a little

His voice was never like this in the Celestial Realm and it makes him angry that it will never be angelically velvety again. Just something semi-twisted and possible of corruption

Perhaps because of the blood or the injustice, Lucifer throws out his wings and punishes the mortal for their insolence. Then the others who try to dogpile him and throw their books at him and shout words that have no meaning.

His grip now crushes things, and he forgets. Pinching is basically stabbing. A shove is basically a fracture.

You’re sobbing uncontrollably when he approaches where you’re being held and Lucifer realizes that he looks a sight. Truly frightening. He never had these murderous impulses as an angel and still surprises himself when he falls to them. They’re still so new!

“Be not afraid,” the words are comforting but fuzzy. They feel foreign on his tongue. He pets your hair. “I shall do you no harm.”

He has to remind himself that he’s so much stronger in this form, tugging and ripping at the rope while trying not to break your little limbs.  

You have this resigned trust, this hope, this faith that he will keep his word and it makes him miss humans. Makes him miss Lilith and how he’d catch her and Belphie sneaking around to watch them.

You ask him if he’s really Lucifer, like that Lucifer. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he is. Instead he says, “I am the Morning Star.” and insists on taking you home.

He will guide you home, the bringer of light.

You hug him and it’s the first burst of warmth--genuine warmth--he’s felt since the fall. “Thank you, Lucifer.”

He’s called back by a greater force--Lord Diavolo--and prefers to forget the whole thing happened. That he ate people. That they almost hurt you.

He secretly checks in on you from time to time but doesn’t have the courage to talk to you again. 

Every time he looks at you, he’s emotionally drained for the rest of the day. He’s starting to understand what Lilith felt so strongly about and it just makes that gaping wound that much deeper.

He drowns his guilt in Demonus and damns his hypocrisy. 

Mammon

He hates being summoned because it burns like when he fell

It reminds him of his body screaming in pain as he adamantly tried to hold onto his Holy Weapons during the fall. His body converted during the fall and Holy Weapons are sheer agony for demons.

The burns on his hands were deep and tender and took days to heal. He doesn’t even remember how he broke his wing, but he knows it drags and its lame. It can’t unfold as well as the other one.

Being summoned just leaves a bad taste in his mouth because he disagrees with being cast out, in general. Seems like some of those angels were morally corrupt, not them! How could what he and the others did be considered wrong?! 

Mammon hates the fact that turning into a demon really ripped the veil off his eyes. He used to be a symbol of charity and giving, bringing joy to people, and now he just sees how nasty they are on the inside. Scummy, scummy people.

“What’s your business with the GREAT Mammon, hm? I’m a busy guy, ya know.” he stuffs his hands in his pockets as he looks disinterestedly around the room.

Dull souls, the lot of ‘em. Not a nice smell in the bunch! Some shiny bits and bobs he might take for his time, though.

Sometimes he bites his own tongue to try and fight off the demonic powers that converted him. To get his brain back on track. He doesn’t WANT to be so blunt and careless, so trained on shiny things. but it’s like he can’t help it!

It burns in his soul and sometimes he can hear his old self, his old ways, fizzling out like his wings as they disintegrated not long ago

The dumb humans start ranting about sacrifice and exchange and Mammon stops them cold, louder than them. It’s mostly the ‘older brother’ voice but he forgets that a demon is just scary to humans.

“Not really interested. What else ya got?”

No one expects that. He can tell. They take the thing off your head as if that will change his mind and something about the shininess of you catches his eye. Makes him feel kind of like a puppy.

Is it your soul? Your earrings? The genuine innocence of a human? How glittery your tears look?

He knocks them aside with his wings, stomps over to you, and picks you up (chair and all). 

They start yipping about how he technically accepted the deal and how he needs to do their bidding or grant them a favor. “Hang tight, sweets,” Mammon sets your chair down before pointing out every technicality on how the deal wasn’t finished and the terms weren’t agreed upon.

Technically they just summoned him; they didn’t complete a pact ritual

“I’m takin’ that--he points to you--just because I can!” Mammon laughs at the dumb little humans. “You guys didn’t do your homework! I’m the Avatar of Greed!”   

One of them tries to sneak around behind him and stab you (like that will change anything?!) and Mammon notices. He grabs the one in front of him by the face, throws him into the one by you, and just starts swinging

He doesn’t kill them, but he DOES raid their pockets of shiny things and interesting things. 

Mammon takes the knife, the weird clasps off their ensembles, and breaks the chair to set you free. Debates on taking the screws, but tosses them over his shoulder (not good enough)

As an act of good will, you’re recruited to pillage this lame location they picked

He gets you home with a spell, some kind of homing magic, and just stands there looking at you quietly. He didn’t really look after humans like Belphie and Lilith did so he’s not sure what to do

The urge to comfort is strong but the genteel pat is corrupted by the desire to feel your earring between his fingers. Some guttural demon noise of glee comes out of him and it makes him embarrassed. He never used to make noises like that...

You unhook your earrings with a tentativeness that reminds him of the humans who left offerings at his alter, fretting over if they were good enough and wondering what they would bring.

You fold his big, tan fingers over the earrings and Mammon holds onto them for a while after he finds his way back to the Devildom. It’s his first gift as a demon.

He ignores getting yelled at and the little brothers pestering him about why he smells good, telling him that they’re hungry. and all their other little gripes. 

Mammon never goes looking for you after that, trying to fill the ache in his soul with time and money and fame (oddly?) but he thinks of you often. He keeps your earrings in a special box at the front of his magic-locked hoard room. On his bad days, he’ll go sit in that empty room of knickknacks, open the box, and stare. 

He picks up the little things, careful not to break them with his nails or strength. “You’re one silly human, aren’t you?” he smiles at the twinkling jewelry.   

[vizkopa]

Celestial (FallenAngel!Doflamingo x Reader) CHAPTER 11

Chapter 11: Forget-Me-Not

~

It didn’t take long for you to have a roaring fire crackling away merrily in the hearth. You had shed your wet and blood stained clothes and replaced them with dry ones, and Doffy’s rain-drenched feather coat was hanging by the fire to dry. He sat on the couch, staring unseeing into the flames.

You were rummaging in the cupboards, searching for the bottle of whiskey you knew your father kept hidden away in the cabin, and when you found it, poured two generous helpings into glasses. You passed one over the back of the couch to Doffy, who stared at it in mild disgust before taking it from you. You sat on the opposite end from him, curling your legs up beneath you, and took a long sip from the whiskey. It burned on the way down but in that moment it was exactly what you needed.

Doffy watched carefully as you drank, then raised the glass to his face to sniff the amber liquid. He wrinkled his nose.

“I will never understand why humans choose to poison themselves for fun.”

“You’re the one who’s always complaining about how complicated human emotions are. Sometimes humans need to dull the pain for a little while too.”

He looked thoughtful and, after a few seconds, took a hesitant sip. Watching the rollercoaster of emotions pass across his face made you let out an involuntary giggle. He glared at you but in the end, went back for a second sip.

The two of you sat like this in silence for a long time, each of you absorbed in your own thoughts. Finally, you asked the question that had been eating away at you since you had gotten here.

“So, what do we do now?”

Doffy did not immediately reply. He took another sip of his whiskey—his glass was still mostly full while you were already down to the dregs of your own.

“I don’t know,” he said simply.

You felt a flare of annoyance at his words. “Well, you might be able to stay here forever, but I have a life and a job and—”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite plan on becoming a fugitive of Heaven,” he said bitterly. He was really getting a hang of this sarcasm thing.

“Neither did I,” you retorted. “I didn’t plan on having an angel land in my back yard either, but lucky me, I guess.”

“It’s a little hard to aim when you’re hurtling through the atmosphere.”

You sighed. You were too tired to argue at this point. “I know. I’m sorry. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

Silence fell between you once more. Then something occurred to you. You jumped up suddenly, almost sloshing whiskey down the front of your shirt, and ran to the duffel bag you had thrown unceremoniously into a corner. You dug around in it until you pulled out your Dad’s old gun and brought it back with you to the couch. Doffy was eyeing the revolver suspiciously as you turned it over in your hands.

“So… I thought angels with their Grace intact were supposed to be invincible?”

“They are.”

“So then why was this,” you waved the pistol and Doffy flinched, “able to kill Rosi? I mean, that’s what happened, right?”

“…Yes.” Doffy shifted uncomfortably. “When an angel’s wings are broken, their powers do become diminished and they may be harmed, but nothing is able to truly kill an angel. Not anything in possession of a mere human at least.”

“What can kill them?”

“Certain weapons that are imbued with divine powers, most of them long lost to time. And demonic weaponry.”

“Demonic?”

“Forged in the fires of hell. As I suspect the bullets in that gun were.”

You looked down at the seemingly ordinary weapon in your hands with disbelief. Why would your father of all people come to own something like this? Swinging out the cylinder, you plucked out one of the five remaining bullets and held it up to your face. It was heavy—much heavier than the rifle rounds you were used to. You turned it over between your fingers so that it caught the firelight, and you noticed that dozens of tiny symbols were etched into the metal, so small and delicate you almost missed them.

“Look at this,” you said holding the bullet out to Doffy. He didn’t take it, letting out a low hiss as if merely being close to it scalded him.

“I cannot touch it.”

“But you’re not an angel anymore, technically.”

“I may not have my Grace, but I am still a divine being, and that,” he nodded to the bullet, “is pure evil.”

You snorted and replaced the bullet in the revolver, swinging the cylinder closed and tucking the gun safely back in your bag. “If that thing is pure evil, I don’t know what that makes you.”

Doffy gave you a dirty look. “Divinity and goodness are not always synonymous.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve come to know that.” You sighed and settled back into the couch cushions, draining the last mouthful of your drink. “So what’s your deal, anyway? How did you come to be so… not good?”

“I was always like this.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“You find many things hard to believe.”

You let out an involuntary bark of laughter. “Ain’t that the truth,” you said, holding your empty glass up to him. “And yet here I am, in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, drinking with an ex-angel. If I didn’t know I was awake, I’d swear this was a dream.”

Doffy said nothing for a long while. You could feel the whiskey start to take over and your body start to relax. You were on the verge of falling asleep when Doffy’s voice roused you.

“You are an unusual human.”

You stared at him, bemused. “In what way?”

“You know what I am. You know what I’ve done. And yet you’re still willing to help me.”

“Well, you didn’t really give me much of a choice back there—” you began, but Doffy shook his head.

“You always have a choice. That’s what makes you human. You could have walked away at any time but you chose not to.”

Heat began to creep into your cheeks. “I mean, yeah I guess. But leaving someone to die? Someone who I can help? That’s not a choice for me.”

Doffy hummed thoughtfully.

“Humans aren’t all bad, you know,” you said softly. “I know it may seem like it with everything going on in the world, but you have to believe that there are people who want to be good. Choose to be good.”

Doffy was watching you with rapt attention now, his drink forgotten in his hand. You sat up a little straighter, watching for any kind of expression behind his glasses.

“If you focus on everything wrong with the world, of course your going to be overwhelmed with negative emotions. Humans aren’t immune either. The only way to survive is to look for the good, to let yourself feel happiness and hope and… love. Because it’s those emotions that make being human worth it.”

Unnoticed by Doffy, you had scooted closer to him on the couch. You supposed it was the liquor that was making you so bold, but hadn’t a part of you been thinking about what the angel would be like as just a man for a while now?

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your home, lose the prospect of eternity… but humanity has it’s perks.”

Doffy had finally noticed you shifting closer and was watching you closely. You swung a leg over him and straddled his thighs, well aware that your face was burning up, but the whiskey urged you onwards. You took the half-full glass from his hand and set it on the side table beside you, and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“I can’t take you home, but I can make you feel like you’re there. For a little while.”

Then you kissed him and it was like something that had been building for weeks finally broke and flowed free. His lips were warm and uncharacteristically soft, and still held traces of whiskey that made your head spin.

Doffy remained frozen for a long moment but, finally, you felt his hands on your waist, his grip uncertain, and he began to kiss you back. It was clumsy and hesitant, but grew more confident as he let instinct take over. You felt his hands at your waist, unconsciously pulling you closer so he could feel more of you against him and—

He broke away, breathing heavily, and shoved you aside as he jumped to his feet. The two of you stared at each other for a long time. A vein was throbbing dangerously in his temple, and you were blinking back tears, the sting of rejection fresh and raw.

“You… this…” He seemed to be unable to get the words out from between his clenched teeth. “How dare…”

Without another word, he stormed off to the dark bedroom and slammed the door sharply behind him. You sat staring after him for a long time, trying to slow your breathing. You felt foolish. You had thought—hoped even—that the feelings beginning to stir within you were starting to be reciprocated. That what Raziel had hinted at earlier that same night had been true. But you’d let the liquor get to your head. You let the adrenaline and thrill of being on the run together become something more than it was. You put too much faith in a fallen angel.

You felt the sudden need to breath and without so much as glancing at the door to the bedroom, you escaped out onto the porch, gulping in great lungfuls of crisp, cool air. It had stopped raining at some point during the evening and a glimmer of moonlight was just visible behind the retreating storm clouds. You had been so distracted you hadn’t even noticed. The woods around you were still and quiet, and filled with the thick, woodsy scent of damp soil.

How many years had it been since you’d last been out here? You’d made a point even after your parents died to take a trip out here each year. But soon your work at the high school had taken priority, and when you started publishing papers, forget any free time you used to have. You thought it might be nice to start visiting again. The stars, after all, were far brighter and more beautiful so far from town.

A rustling down amongst the trees cause you to whip your head in the direction of the noise. Your heart pounding in your throat, your mind jumped to the worst conclusion—they had found you. Silently cursing yourself, you realised the protection spells Doffy had cast probably didn’t extend beyond the walls of the little cabin.

As you stood, frozen, debating whether to run inside and grab the gun, or to call Doffy, a figure stepped out of the trees into the weak moonlight.

“Coby?!”

The angel made a shushing motion, and you hurried down the steps to meet him at the dark tree line.

“[Name], I’m so glad to see you’re safe,” he said in a hushed tone. “When I saw the state of your house and that you were gone, I thought, for a moment…”

“Doffy is a dick—er, sorry, I mean… Doffy is far from a gentleman, but he’d never hurt me.” It surprised you to hear how certain you sounded saying those words.

Coby looked relieved. “I don’t have long. The Powers do not know I’m here and if I was found helping a fugitive…” He shuddered and you did not need him to elaborate. “Before he died, Raziel told me to watch over you if anything should happen to him. He said you should be given a choice.”

“A choice? I thought I made my choice pretty clear when I ran away with a known fugitive.”

“Well, yes,” Coby said. “And the Powers will not show you mercy for it. But you never were meant to be caught up in this. Rosi said you should be able to choose, to leave all this behind and go back to your life.”

“How am I supposed to do that? With everything I’ve learned, I can’t just… go back to everything being normal again. I can’t leave…” Your lips had formed the word ‘Doffy’, but after what had happened between the two of you only minutes before, you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it out loud. But Coby seemed to understand.

“You can’t help him anymore. And even if you could, he has made it clear he does not want your help, correct?”

“He may not want it, but he sure as hell needs it.”

“Your loyalty is admirable,” said Coby and you felt your face flush in the darkness. “And if you choose to stay, I will not stop you. But if you should like to return to your life, to live as though none of this ever happened to you, I can do that.”

You stared, bewildered. “What do you mean?”

“I can modify your memory; make you forget everything from the past few weeks and leave behind a false memory to fill in the blanks.”

“You can do that?”

Coby nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, but only if you give your consent. I will not take your memories from you by force.”

You hesitated. Hadn’t you thought on multiple occasions how much you wished you could go back to how your life had been before? To never have learned of the existence of angels or devils or Heaven and Hell, and maybe date a cute biology teacher like a normal, science-driven woman?

“What’s going to happen to Doffy?” you said, though you thought you already knew the answer.  

“When they find him, he will be executed.”

You closed your eyes. “And if they don’t find him?”

“They will.”

“But if I’m the only one who knows his location… and you erase my memories…”

Coby sighed. “He may be able to remain hidden for a while. But the Powers are relentless. They will find him eventually, even if it takes them a thousand years.”

You gazed, unseeing, at the lit windows of the cabin. What was better: a life as a fugitive, or death at the hands of those who were once family? The Doffy who had urged you to run, to hide from your pursuers had chosen life. But the Doffy who had stood before that jury had said he would rather have died than become mortal. You weren’t sure which Doffy was currently shut away in the dusty little bedroom of the hunting cabin. Possibly neither.

You turned back to Coby. “If I let you modify my memory, do I have your word you won’t reveal this place to the Powers?”

Coby hesitated. “I… can try.”

“Your word, Coby.”

He closed his eyes and shuddered. “All right. You have my word.”

At least this way, you could buy Doffy some time, even if you didn’t know you were doing it. You felt a sharp pang of anguish as you tried to imagine your life without the angel. But if you had no memory, would you even miss him?

“Okay. I just need to grab something.”

You hurried back into the cabin, glancing at the bedroom door to make sure it was still firmly shut, and grabbed the bag holding the gun from the floor. You lingered at the threshold a moment longer than was necessary, secretly hoping Doffy would hear you leaving and would come to stop you. But he didn’t.

You took a breath and stepped out into the night, conjuring up one last image of forget-me-not-blue eyes before you let them fade from your mind, forever.

[death-himself]

Remember You—Chapter 2

Summary: Pyro and Toby return from a mission and get a talking to from the begrudgingly respected Angel

Word Count: 1,584

Warnings: Panic attacks, blood/murder, paranoia, death, fear

previous next (AO3 Link)

“Angel’s gonna be pissed.” Pyro spoke. Toby merely shrugged, taking another swing at the already-mutilated body, chopping through the skull with a loud CRACK.

“Who gives a shit about Angel? C’mon, you wanna take a swing? I wanna see how much it takes for the police to not recognize ‘em.” Pyro smirked.

“Well just chop off the head and smash it to bits, that’ll make him hard to recognize, won’t it?”

“Well yeah, but that’s no fun.” Pyro looked around, taking count of how many lives this job had them take. Five in this room, ten downstairs, and three more in the basement; yeah, Angel would be pissed as hell. He wasn’t even entirely sure why they were asked to kill these people, but a job was a job, he wasn’t allowed to turn it down.

Toby stood up, finally satisfied with his handiwork, wiping some blood off his face with a grin. “Should we head back?”

“Yeah, I think we’re done here.” Pyro nudged one of the corpses with his foot, staring into its cold, lifeless eyes. “Let’s torch the place and get out of here.”

The two watched the building burn down, the smell of burning flesh being easily covered up by the burning wood and smoke. Pyro made sure the fire didn’t spread to anywhere other than the building, though he didn’t particularly care if it did or not. Once he found the building to be sufficiently destroyed he waved his hand, the fire going out immediately at his command.

“Let’s go. If we’re lucky we might get back to the mansion before Angel gets there.” Toby sighed, standing up and mumbling “I wanted to watch the fire a bit longer, but fine.” The two walked through the forest, the trees getting more and more populous with each step, shading more of their walkway until they were in near darkness.

Then they stepped out into a clearing, where a mansion stood, nearly blending into the shadows, looking as dark and menacing as ever. Home sweet home.

The two did their usual banter, slamming the door open and screaming that they were alive, much to several of the residents’ annoyance. Pyro then raced up to his room, wiping off as much of the dried blood as he could. Angel always looked more upset when he had blood on him. He slid into his desk chair, turning on his computer and scanning through the security cameras put up around the forest.

There he saw Angel emerge from the shadows in front of the mansion. He knocked on the door, waiting to be let in. Pyro quickly changed out of his stained red clothes, hearing the door downstairs open and Angel’s footsteps coming up.

“How many times am I gonna have to be called here because of you?” Pyro turned around to see him standing at his door. Angel looked to be around Pyro’s age, his physical age at least, at around sixteen or seventeen, with messy black hair and piercing dark brown eyes that seemed to shine with a madness all of their own.

“You’re not always called here ‘cause of me. Sometimes it’s the other guys.” Angel rolled his eyes, pulling out a clipboard and pen.

“Where’s Toby? I need him to fill this shit out too.”

“He probably ran off, you know how he is.” Angel hummed, handing the clipboard to Pyro, saying “I’ll just get to him later. You know the drill.”

“Yeah, yeah.” With that Pyro got to work. He wasn’t sure what Angel was—he had claimed to be the son of a god of the dead, but it wasn’t like he was gonna believe that. As far as Pyro knew, gods weren’t real, otherwise they probably would’ve saved some of his victims deus ex machina-style.

The work Angel had him and some of the others do was always the same, paperwork his supposed godly father would usually be filling out for the people he killed. Perhaps the gods were real and doing their paperwork for them was the only reason he and the other proxies weren’t getting smited; Pyro didn’t really care either way.

He glanced up at Angel, seeing that he had been staring at him for who knows how long. “Done.” Pyro spoke, handing the clipboard back over to him. Angel gave a tight-lipped smile, the same one he always gave him whenever he visited, and scanned over the paperwork. “You want me to grab Toby while you check it all?”

“If you can find him, sure.” Pyro nodded, stepping out the door in search of the proxy.

When he got back he found Angel rummaging through his dresser, something he was pretty used to, much to his annoyance. He should’ve known better than to leave him alone in his room. “I found Toby.” Angel paused, turning to look, his eyes piercing as he stared long and thoughtfully at Pyro, as if he wanted to say something.

He blinked, breaking eye contact and standing up quickly, reaching for his clipboard and flipping through the papers, shoving it hastily into Toby’s hands. “Fill it out. And try to be fast, I don’t have all night.” Toby groaned, collapsing onto the bed. “You have less work than Pyro, it’s not that bad.”

Angel continued not-so-subtly looking around the room, something that he only seemed to do when in Pyro’s room. He always acted strangely around him, at least stranger than he did with any of the other residents of the mansion. What his deal was he wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t sure if he really cared to know. Angel’s weird obsession with him didn’t matter.

“Here.” Toby grumbled, passing the clipboard back to Angel with a huff.

“Thanks.” Angel mumbled, not sounding thankful at all as he skimmed through the papers. “Alright, that’s everything. Maybe don’t kill so many people next time, okay?”

“It was a job, we had to.” Pyro spoke, but Angel simply waved his hand dismissively, walking out the door and leaving without even a goodbye. “That piece of shit.”

He glanced over to his dresser, Angel having left it open, with the clothes he messed up hastily folded up and put back in. “What was he even looking for this time?”

“Did he wanna steal one of your daggers again? Maybe your meds?” Toby asked, kicking off his boots and lying down on the bed. Pyro knelt next to the dresser, rummaging through it just as Angel had.

He didn’t find anything missing—nothing he cared about at least—but he did find something new. He pulled out a photograph, placed on top of an old orange shirt, the print on it so faded and messed up that he couldn’t even make out what had been on it. The photo was of two people, a guy with blonde hair and blue eyes, with a small scar on his lip and round glasses, and a girl with brown hair and tan skin, with her hair done into two braids.

Something about them felt familiar, though Pyro wasn’t sure why. Were they some of his victims? Was Angel trying to make him feel bad? His brow furrowed. No, he didn’t remember seeing them recently; he would’ve at least vaguely remembered their faces if he had killed them.

Something about them made his heart sink to his stomach, some strange melancholy forming in his soul. These people were alive, he knew that much. As he stared into the eyes of the girl, he couldn’t help but wonder what sort of connection Angel had to them. Friends, possibly? He didn’t know Angel was capable of that!

But then why would he leave a picture with him?

Piper took a deep breath, a flashlight held in her hand as she walked through the forest. She had gotten a lead, a symbol of a crossed-out circle she had seen made in the stone ground of Bunker Nine. She had seen it etched onto Leo’s mother’s grave, and then again and again, at all of Leo’s old foster homes. It meant something, so when she came across a tree at the edge of a forest with that symbol cut into it, she dove in.

Her hand hovered by her dagger as the forest seemed to grow darker with each step. She should’ve told Jason where she went, she should’ve told someone, anyone where she went. Her heart began to pound. Piper wasn’t a very anxious person. But something about this forest just made her stomach clench and head spin.

Her flashlight died in her hands, leaving her in near darkness. Was she even in the forest anymore? It felt like she was floating in a pool of nothingness. She unsheathed her dagger, the Celestial Bronze glowing dimly, but not bright enough to illuminate anything, much to her dismay. She took a steady breath and tried to force her heart out of her throat.

The forest felt wrong. Something was wrong, what was wrong? Her heart was pounding, her hands began to tremble; she wouldn’t be able to fight with her whole body shaking like this! Something was behind her, in front of her, something, something, something was wrong. She was in danger.

Then just as quickly as those feelings came, they disappeared. The darkness stayed, just as oppressive as before, but emptiness replaced her fear. A pale white face appeared in the distance, piercing through the darkness. Static filled her ears, her vision blurring. Her eyes slid closed, and her body collapsed, unconscious.

[maddie-the-mad-mage]

That lady gave her the creeps.

Oh well, at least it was all behind them. Probably.

The young blonde reaffixed her goggles on her face; the lenses were completely blacked out with what looked like pitch. Before her was a large object bearing the faint shape of a breastplate, covered with a tablecloth. Carefully, she lifted the edge and shoved her upper body underneath it.

Of course, she could not see a thing, not in the general sense at least. The wand in her left hand illuminated, shining through the table cloth and making quite an interesting sight for anyone that might be passing by. As the light faded in this biome of darkness, a new light appeared. This light took on the ocular symbol often associated with the wizards of Dalaran, forming as a third eye on her forehead. And within this mind's eye, she could see what no one else could.

Exploding outward in a celestial burst of arcane magic, an intricate web appeared before her - the enchantment that had been placed upon the Cuirass. It shimmered and sparkled like some microcosm of an undiscovered galaxy. Awe-inspiring and dangerous, the novice mage understood the concentration that was necessary. With a snap of her fingers some music started to play in her head, with little musical notes slowly dancing around her form.

Maddie was in her zone now, completely focused on the task before her. In slow, delicate movements that would make even the most adept of the Collective proud, she started to untangle the magical thread. Her fingers glided along the arcane edge, knocking loose sparkling dust of an old spell long neglected. Step by agonizing step she followed the trail.

Her hands were starting to cramp from the intense precision that she was putting them through but finally, she found it! The source of the security enchantment. Swallowing audibly, she grabbed her wand once again and began to cast a counterspell of her own. The web trembled and warped before ultimately vanishing with a resounding *POP!*

She had done it! The enchantment was-

*BWOOSH!*

Magical energy burst out from the armor, blasting her onto her back and throwing the tablecloth up into the air. Maddie groaned and clambered to her feet, removing her goggles. The arcane eye was gone but so was the defensive enchantment. "Fuck yes!" She shouted, throwing her hands up. Though her hair was standing on end and her face was covered in magical residue, those pearly whites shone through to reflect her overflowing pride.

"Now I just have to figure out what it does."

[graciep8ocsblog]

Starlight Constellation Chapter 1: New beginnings! Celestial Rose is born!

A/N: OwO?! The first chapter of Starlight Constellation is out!!! I really hope y’all will give it a read and give feedback! This series takes place in around mid-2018 because that’s when the series was first concieved! 

“Awaken the power, awaken the power…” Ilena tossed and turned in bed, groaning and muttering to herself as a voice called out to her.

Her eyes opened wide, trying to adjust to the pitch-black darkness. The only source of light was seven symbols floating around her. 

“Awaken the power, awaken the power, awaken the power…” the voice echoed throughout as the lights began to glow brighter. An orb of light began to nest itself in her hands, emitting a rainbow halo. Suddenly, Ilena felt the ground beneath her crumbling and she began to lose her footing.

And soon, she felt herself falling into darkness… The girl shot herself out of bed, feeling her heart hammering in her throat. Craning her head, she realized she was in her bedroom and felt herself calm down… 

“A dream?” she sighed with relief, unsure of what to make of it. 

“Good morning, Len” Yuu smiled at her granddaughter, rubbing the last of sleep out of her eyes. 

“Mm, mornin’ Gran…” she stifled a yawn as she bundled her hair up into a ponytail “I’m going out for a small jog, ok?” 

“Alright, but be careful!” the old woman called out to her as she began to put on her sneakers. 

“Bye, gran!”

“Bye, Len!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, in a large building somewhere far away from Earth, two people were having a conversation. 

“What do you mean the Wish Crystal broke?” a woman whispered harshly to the man beside her. 

“Just when I was about to grab it, this thing just broke into a million pieces and flew out!” he growled, clenching his fists. 

“Oh ho ho ho ho~” a playful yet flirtatious voice rang across the hallway.

“Tch, that voice…” he felt his veins ready to burst from that condescending laugh. 

“Looks like someone is in trouble~. Hmm, too bad that a certain someone screwed up this badly!” 

“FINE! You know what? I will find the princess and bring her to the master!” The man threw a crystal to the ground, causing it to form a portal to find the Wish crystal as well as the princess…

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Ilena jogged through the neighbourhood street, she felt a pang of homesickness as she looked at the shops. It was… different from the noise and rushing in New York. On the way to the park, she passed the church, a bakery, a beauty parlour, and a couple of shops that sold knick-knacks and other things like that. It was a nice and quiet place, sure it was no Orchard Road or New York but… somehow, the aura of this place brought a sense of comfort to her…

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once she arrived at the park, the teenage girl spotted a bench sitting under a large tree. Ilena soon settled down to rest for a short while before she could resume her jog. Her legs already felt like jelly as she plopped herself down onto the bench. As she chugged down her water, she heard a loud crash from afar… 

Raising an eyebrow, she decided to investigate the source. After wandering in the direction of the sound, the sight had made her do a double-take…

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oi! Answer me! Are you ok?! Oh my God, we need to get you to a hospital immediately!” a voice rang out inside the princess’s head as she was being shaken violently back and forth. As she opened her eyes, the sight of a girl around her age with a worried expression in her eyes became clearer. 

“Oh,” the teenager released her grip with the realization “Um… you okay?” 

“I’m fine, I just hit my head but other than that, I guess I’m alright,” Kirara answered after a while “I’m Kirara, and you are…” 

“Ilena, Ilena Briar.” the girl responded “Why did you even hit your head? What are you even doing in here?”

“Well, we were running away…” Kirara slowly began, recollecting the events of the day “And then… I saw something glowing…” 

“Running?” Ilena raised an eyebrow, she wasn’t really one to believe in the unnatural but… “A glowing light? And what do you mean by ‘we’?” 

“Let’s get to the point!” a cat popped up from her head. Their eyes widened before Ilena let out an ear-piercing scream. 

“ADSLKAFWNEDVIKSDJ-yOUcAnTALk?!” she leaped backward as she pointed to what she just saw. 

“Apparently I can but-” a large gust of wind interrupted him and Kirara and the familiar’s faces fell as a tall, shadowy figure escaped the portal… 

It felt as if time had stopped and everything froze as a dark purple mist seeped through from a portal opening… 

“Uh oh,” Kirara winced in fear as the dark purple mist began to surround them… 

“Quick, hide!” Ilena whispered harshly as she ushered them away from the park… she reached for her phone but it was too late.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A tall man about the age of eighteen with skin as white as a sheet, silver hair, and eyes the same colour as the mist earlier. 

“So…” The man began “I’m looking for someone. About your age, a girl, pink hair, travels with a cat, about yay high…” 

“I didn’t see anyone,” Ilena tensed up as he placed his hand under her chin. 

“By the look in your eyes, I can say that you’re lying…” he continued “My name is Noire and I only wish to know where the princess is…”

“N-never!” she pushed herself away from him and ran as fast as she could. 

“Hey! Get back here!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

After running, Ilena stopped to catch her breath and hid behind a huge tree. She hoped that they were alright… She looked over her shoulder to find that same man, holding up an orb as a light began to glow from somewhere… How was he so fast?!

“Now, my pretty…” Noire held out the orb and cried out “Kurosu! It’s showtime!” 

A mist began to swirl around before forming a monster “Kurosu, find the princess and get that girl!” 

Ilena didn’t hesitate and started to run. 

“Don’t let her escape!” The sound of heavy footsteps followed her and Ilena felt a hand grab her into the bushes… Ilena looked at the culprit, Kirara. The two waited for a moment for the Kurosu to pass them and the girls let out a sigh of relief. 

“Ok, what the heck’s going on in here?!” Ilena harshly whispered “Cats can talk, scary men try to touch my face, orbs now turn into shadows, and apparently, trees glow! What’s next? I’m gonna turn into an old lady and birds turn out to be cursed men?!” 

“I can explain all this…” the cat softly began. 

“You better,” her expression was serious. 

“Well, I’m Mica. And you are…” 

“Ilena Briar,” she answered before raising an eyebrow, noticing his scrunched-up face… “Why?” 

“It’s just… you look like… never mind,” Mica sighed “Well, I’m a faerie! Specifically a familiar faerie! Familiar faeries are assigned to Etoilians like the princess when they come of age! My job is to help the princess master her own magic and assist her in any way possible!”

“He mentioned something about a princess,” she continued interrogating, hoping it was all some crazy dream and she would wake up. 

“Kirara is the princess of Etoilina. And now, we’re searching for the shards of the Wish Crystal, it contains a power that can be dangerous if it ended up in the wrong hands.” Mica paused for a moment “That man and his comrades tried to take that power but on the day of the attack, the crystal broke by itself and scattered around in a place with no magic. Also known as Earth,” 

“So,” she began after a short while “You want someone like me to help you?” 

“Well, I’m not so sure…” Kirara answered “Legend has it that the Pleiades Guardians will rise once again to protect the world from destruction… but who am I kidding, it’s a myth… a myth that may not even be real…” 

“Found you!” Noire smirked as he loomed over the two girls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What is it with this weirdo and somehow arriving at the worst time?” Ilena thought to herself. 

“Well, well, well. Looks like the princess has a pathetic, little human protecting you. What are you even doing anyway?” 

Ilena glared coldly at Noire, trying to find an answer to this. 

“Cat got your tongue? Well, my Kurosu can take care of that!” the Kurosu roared loudly before blasting glowing spheres at the two girls shaking in fear.

Ilena trembled as the creature got closer and closer. She bit her lip and took Kirara’s hand. As the Kurosu released another orb of light, Ilena shoved the princess away and crossed her arms across her face to shield herself. 

Suddenly, a bright light began to shine from her body. 

“What the-” Noire sputtered in shock, shielding his eyes. 

“Is this…” Kirara asked.

“The light of a Dream Crystal?” Mica gaped at the sight, his mouth forming a perfect ‘O’. It couldn’t be… 

As the light died down, a star-shaped jewel appeared in her hand “What the heck is that?!” 

“A Dream Crystal! Could it be?” Mica wondered intently before calling out to her, bringing Ilena back to attention “Lady Ilena!” 

“Huh?” 

“Hold up the crystal and say ‘Aurora Dream Reflection’!”

She stared at the faerie dumbfounded “Really?” before turning to face the Kurosu about to attack again. 

Ilena held up the crystal to the sky, having nothing left to lose now… 

“Aurora Dream Reflection!” Ilena began to draw a star, causing it to glow and surround her in a cocoon of light… 

Stars began to surround her ankles. A pair of knee-high ankle boots formed on her feet. 

Ribbons of light began to form around her, creating a matching vest and skirt along with arm bands. A milky way passed through her hair, causing it to grow longer and become lighter. 

Orbs of light began to surround her as her side-tail was held by a midnight blue bow with a pink gem. She formed a diamond with her hands on her chest, transforming the crystal into a brooch and her rose earrings to decorate her ears. 

Landing on the ground, she struck a pose to reveal her new form. “The shining wish of my heart, Celestial Rose!”

The cocoon faded and Celestial Rose stood in Ilena’s place. 

“What the? HOLY- What AM I?” she gasped, looking at her new form. 

“Why I- Kurosu! Get rid of that Pleiades Guardian!” Noire spluttered. 

The Kurosu charged, Celestial Rose leaped into the air, evading the attack. 

“MICA! WHAT AM I EVEN- HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Calm down and trust yourself!”

The girl let out a scream that could rival any classic monster movie’s damsel in distress. She felt her feet strike against the Kurosu and soon collapsed onto the ground. 

“Ugh… My head’s spinning…” she felt as if she rode a rollercoaster and were about to throw up. The Kurosu spun around aimlessly in the background, creating more of a mess than usual. 

She examined her arms and legs in awe “Wow. I’ve never had this much energy and strength before!” 

The Kurosu slowly began to regain consciousness as it stumbled around, ready to fire. 

“Time to finish them off! The words will come to you!”

Her earrings began to glow and she placed her hand in front of her chest. 

“Rose…” A giant shield appeared in front of her “Reflector!” 

The Kurosu fired its attack again and the shield deflected it, causing the orbs to be reflected as the monster began to cry out in agony… 

Noire gritted his teeth and scowled “Tsk. Next time, I will surely defeat you!”

And with that, he disappeared into thin air… As if it were right on cue, a light began to surround Celestial Rose and she turned back into Ilena… 

A crystal shard floated to her and she felt a warmth in her hand. Looking at the star-shaped crystal, Ilena looked at Kirara and Mica emerging from their hiding place “Can anyone explain what’s going on?! What happened to me?! Why are you staring at me like that?!”

[amphtaminedreams]

The Eras of Lana Del Rey: Lookbook no.9

Hi to anyone reading,

Hope you’re okay! AND that you didn’t end up here because you searched the Lana Del Rey tag so you could see people ranting about her-you’re about to be very disappointed. Sorry. This is not about to be some Question for the Culture discourse because the world is bleak enough right now and the last thing we all need is to be reminded of that saga. 

Being a Lana Del Rey fan is easy, they said. She’s not a controversial artist, they said. And yet 2020 had to do what it does best and fuck everything up. 

Whether people like her or not, it’s made me so angry reading all the abuse she’s been getting about her appearance for the last couple of weeks, because I really thought that if we could agree on anything it was that attacking individuals for the way they look because you dislike something they’ve done (with the exception of shit like racist tattoos and blackfishing) is, you know, awful and judgemental as fuck? Like you do realise when you treat the word fat as a pejorative that the fat people you don’t have a problem with understood that you meant it as an insult too? I think what all those people tweeting about Lana’s weight, and that includes some of her fans, are forgetting is that she was in her early 20s when she was thrust into the limelight. As much as there’s this conspiracy that her dad bought her a career in the music industry, she’d made the decision to go it alone and had lived in a trailer park as a struggling musician for years. On top of that, we have the unreleased tracks with lyrics seemingly referencing an eating disorder in her younger years. OF COURSE her body is going to look different. Why is it that we treat weight gain as an inherently bad thing without any insight into the other factors that constitute a person’s “health”? It’s fucking insane that so many feel they have the right to comment on other’s bodies in the first place and it breaks my heart that she might be reading these comments. This wasn’t intended to necessarily be a rant about how much I love this woman but all the shit I’ve read about her on the internet these past few months have pushed me to it. You'll respect your queen of alternative music or I shall stan twice as hard on your behalf. You can thank me later when you come to your senses xoxo

I’d love to say it was intentional that I finally finished this post the week Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass was released but that would imply I have my shit way more together than I actually do. If I’m being completely honest, I’ve only heard L.A Who am I to Love You so far 1). because I want to wait for the hard copy for the rest and that doesn’t turn up til September and 2). because I do not have my shit together, lol. That being said, there is no doubt in my mind that I am going to love it-one thing I have always loved about Lana’s lyrics is how well they paint a picture and this is something that poetry only more freely allows for the exploration of. That ability to create such a strong narrative voice and atmosphere is a talent that extends to her visuals and the production of her records too, and is something I really missed when it comes to the Norman Fucking Rockwell era. I’m just going to say it: a strong aesthetic is to NFR as memorable songs are to Lust for Life. Lacking. Am I allowed to say that as a fan? The collaborations don’t do it for me, okay, and as as NFR is concerned, aside from The Greatest/Fuck It I Love You video which went down the whole neon surfer girl route, it’s hard to identify a cohesive theme. It’s understandable that at this point, she would want to just focus purely on the music, and it goes without saying that NFR will stand the test of time in that regard but I don’t think we can deny that when people think of Lana in the future, it’s not gonna be a green windbreaker that comes into their heads.

^Illustration credit to Filip Kozak (https://filipkozaksart.tumblr.com/?fbclid=IwAR3vwLX2pNxoFNhTPD1ky14LllPqlLtL1GxGlD79xuHxdtzcHLw-6aNBZWo)

And here’s where this Filip Kozak illustration comes into it; after years of it sitting in my camera roll for years, it finally has a use. There’s really nothing better to illustrate how mundane life has become this year than the disproportionate level of excitement my photo-hoarding-self experienced realising it would fit perfectly into this post and is thus eligible for deletion. Up there with being able to fit a whole box of biscuits onto the shelf at work rather than having to individually take out as many as I can and then shove them on top of the existing box of biscuits one by one. Truly riveting content on this Tumblr page. Back to the point-by using this as my stimulus for the post rather than the Lana Del Rey albums as outfits tag that went round on Twitter, I can conveniently exclude NFR as an outfit inspiration category, and that saves me from having to buy a charity shop windbreaker with its price bumped up 150% by some upper middle class Depop e-girl or boy who uses the word peng as a descriptor like it’s a nervous tic. To make up for leaving out NFR, I’ve tried to branch out a bit and do the outfits not just based on the music videos or album covers but also from street style and stage looks and photoshoots from around the same period too. It was hard not to be influenced by the general “vibe” and sound of the albums either when I was planning outfits, whether it’s the grand, orchestral instrumentals of Born to Die or the 70s psychedelic rock inspired riffs of Ultraviolence and hopefully that’ll show as well! Enjoy:D

Born to Die (Release Date: 27th January 2012)

It’s been 8 years, and when you ask most people what they think of when they hear the name Lana Del Rey, they’ll probably dismiss her as the one who sings about being sad and doing coke and sleeping with older men. That’s the Born to Die impact. Say what you want but it’s one of only a handful of albums released by a female artist to have spent more than 300 weeks on the Billboard 200 chart and it really established the mythos of “Lana Del Rey” because before all this, before all the think pieces from other women claiming she’d set feminism back hundreds of years with her music, before she ousted grayscale Effy Stonem as the queen of angsty teen Tumblr (which as you can probably guess was a subsection of the internet I was very much engulfed by, lmao), she was just Lizzie Grant, a relatively normal aspiring singer songwriter in her early twenties. But as Lana Del Rey, she was someone else-some beautiful, mystical being that personified the sentiment of being born in the wrong era. Whilst every other singer’s record labels seemed to be trying desperately to thrust them into the future and keep them on top of all the musical and stylistic trends, it was refreshing to hear someone whose music and visuals captured all the most glamorous elements of the past. Part Priscilla Presley/Jackie O reincarnation (the National Anthem video really illustrated how Lana is just as much a storyteller as she is a musician), part high level mobster’s wayward wife à la Michelle Pfeiffer in Scarface, she was the good girl by day and the bad girl by night, and I think that’s a duality we can all relate to or would like to think we’re interesting enough to relate to deep down.

Her style from around this period was EVERYTHING. She had those grungy Tumblr girl elements, the camo jacket and the oversized pieces and the leather jackets, but she also heavily drew on the styles and silhouettes of the 50s and 60s with the beehives and the new look Dior inspired cinched waist dresses. Even now in 2020, I think this period is what most people would think if they were asked to describe Lana’s style. I made sure I got the grungy pieces in there with the chunky boots and the vinyl and the oversized leather but the foundation of her looks back then were usually these daintier throwback pieces like the white silk dress and the corset and the mint fur trimmed coat (House of Sunny’s Penny Pistachio coat).

Favourite lyrics from the album? “Now my life is sweet like cinnamon, like a fucking dream I'm living in” from Radio. Nobody asked but I’m gonna give it to you anyway.

Born to Die: The Paradise Edition (Release Date: 9th November 2012)

Lana’s Paradise EP contains probably my absolute favourite song of her’s, Ride, and with that, the beautiful opening monologue that will stay in my mind forever. This era was of course ushered in by Tropico, the short film that included the premiere of the songs Bel Air, Body Electric and Gods and Monsters, which established the ethereal tone of this period-it’s in the name, after all. Both the album and the videos were other-worldly and leaned heavily on religious symbolism which I’m sure pissed off many a middle-aged bible basher at the time. Most prominent in her lyrics were reflections on the freedom of the open road which corresponded with visuals of biker gangs and desert dwellers and modern interpretations of the Wild West, as was an attempt to capture the nature of the so-called “American spirit” which as Lana portrayed it shared more qualities with a kind of celestial, transient being than any kind of solid concept or identity. She played an emotionally detached stripper and a haunted saloon-style-bar singer (almost looking like a runaway bride) and Eve the “first woman” all in the same album and honestly, if that’s not iconic, I don’t know what is. We saw SO many incredible red carpet looks in this period too which built upon this idea of her as the fallen angel tempted by original sin that Tropico established; I feel like this era was all about laying bare the soul of the character she played, this broken, delicate but ultimately liberated being that was so dangerous to the idea of the strong, stable modern feminist ideal. She went about it in COMPLETELY the wrong way in a post that betrayed the ignorance of the privilege she has as a white female performer, but I think this is what she was getting at in it and Ultraviolence only went on to bolster her critics.

In response to the criticism she still receives about the choice to wear a Native American war bonnet in her Ride music video, I’d like to say that it really seems like she’s learnt from that-actions speak louder than words and so though it’s not my place to say whether this makes up for that error, the work she’s done with Native American reparations-focussed foundations since and the money she’s donated to the cause says a lot about her intentions. Again, I want to stress that it’s not my place to say! But it’s a detail that is often overlooked so I thought I’d mention it here. 

“I was a singer, not a very popular one. I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet. But upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky, that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken. But I didn’t really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is.”

Ultraviolence (Release Date: 13th June 2014)

AH, Ultraviolence. My favourite of Lana’s albums and imo, a masterpiece. ONE skip. ONE. Sorry Guns and Roses. I got stoned in my back garden and listened to this (for research purposes ofc, heh) and ended up deciding that this is what I want to listen to when I die (also whilst stoned). It sounds dramatic but listening to this album in that state of mind is such a heavenly experience that I’d be too zen to notice myself slipping away into nothingness on the basis that if I didn’t as long as I could stay in that bubble of awe, nothingness forever wouldn’t be so scary after all. I know, I know, that sentence has big Jaden Smith’s old tweets energy. But if an album is what helps me get over an existential crisis, I beg you allow me the nonsensical ramblings about how I felt like I was ascending into the stars.

Though in terms of the lyrical content the public perception is probably correct, I think the reputation Ultraviolence has as Lana’s darkest, most gothic album (which is something I’ve in incorporated into the outfits I put together) is mistaken; instrumentally and visually it drew more on 70s psychedelic rock and the bohemian counter culture of the period than anything, and her stage looks are a clear reflection of that, and also the outfits I was most excited to channel. It seems counter-intuitive to the moody atmosphere I associate the tracklist with but it’s my go-to summer album; it’s raw (probably her most stripped back work along with NFR, lots of the songs are barely edited) and it’s gloomy but let’s be real, hot as fuck-don’t bother making a sex playlist, just put Ultraviolence on shuffle, and you’re good to go. This was the album where Lana debuted some of her most criticised lyrics and where the notion that she glamourises abuse comes from, one of the points she also seemed to be getting at in the Instagram post, but imo it’s fair to say that she sang truthfully about the initial allure of a dangerous relationship and the nature of the mindset that facilitates staying with somebody poisonous where you do feel like you’re nothing without them. Turning horrific experiences into romantic tragedies is how Lana has always made her music and yeah, out of context there are some fucked up lyrics on the album, but policing how a woman expresses her trauma and complaining that she glorifies weakness because she wrote honestly about the reality of a complicated partnership is hardly any more “feminist” than the lyrics themselves. I can only guess that the reason Lana felt the need to bring up this criticism in 2020 is because these darker themes are going to be revisited in her upcoming album and that in spite of the issues with the way she expressed herself, this time critics will be more accepting of how she chooses to address these themes. 

On a lighter note “yeah my boyfriend's pretty cool, but he's not as cool as me” will always be a great line. Simple but effective. If my boyfriend ever is cooler than me it’ll be doing Lana a disservice.

Honeymoon (Release Date: 18th September 2015)

Considering that a lot of other Lana fans are of the opinion that this is her best album, I find it weird that I really don’t remember all that much about this period, other than High by the Beach being released and then hearing Salvatore and Freak for the first time. I guess because she didn’t do a Honeymoon specific tour and didn’t make that many public appearances in this period? It was definitely harder for me to find visual reference points beyond the HbtB music video and the cover art, so I mostly drew on the general vibe of the album, a cinematic accompaniment to a summer in Italy or the South of France, filled with exotic instrumentals and the sense of impending romantic doom that Lana does so well. I suppose if I associate the visuals of this era with anything it’s idyllic florals and warm tones, bygone country club pool days, a rich American’s vacation in Southern Europe, long walks on the beach (and as our Lord and Saviour Jujubee once said, big dicks and fried chicken). Apparently inspired by Lana’s relationship with Francesco Carrozini, it’s a hazy story of some ultra-feminine, submissive archetype becoming unhealthily enchanted by a mysterious “foreign man” who’s ultimately not all that good for her, which as the story goes turned out to be quite prophetic. Going against the grain, it’s my least favourite of her albums after Lust for Life, but in spite of that, I will always remember how obsessed I was with the sax riffs (I think? I don’t know my instruments all that well so forgive me, lol) on Freak and I definitely understand why it’s a firm favourite for so many.

“You could be a bad motherfucker, but that don’t make you a man.” was truly a cultural reset of a line.

-on an unrelated note, OMG, I never realised how I have my mouth open in literally every fucking photo I take, somebody tell me how to pose, please and thank you-

Lust for Life (Release Date: 21 July 2017)

Lust for Life is a controversial one. On the one hand, I appreciate that this album was the victory cry of a happier, more independent, politically-aware Lana in spite of it apparently being a far more optimistic sounding album than the one she wanted to release, but on the other there were way too many collaborations for me and this meant that the album lacked a sense of cohesion and the characteristic narrative thread that usually runs throughout her tracklist. Aside from Love, Cherry, Get Free and Tomorrow Never Came, most of the songs on the album aren’t hugely memorable and it’s a crying shame that a collaboration with STEVIE FUCKING NICKS of all people left so much to be desired. Coming from two witchy icons, I expected something absolutely magical so maybe I was setting myself up for failure, but come on. We could’ve had a real anthem there.

Aesthetically speaking however, this is one of my favourite eras for Lana, which is unsurprising when you consider the tracklist contains references to both Woodstock and Coachella. I’m not gonna lie, I think seeing Coachella fashion in my early teens was my style awakening-I remember seeing Vanessa Hudgens’ outfits and being like, wow, I want to be her (oh, what a fall from grace)-so the late 60s/early 70s flower power groupie style Lana adopted in this period really spoke to me. It was all long hair and dreamy pastels, and this era included some of the most head-to-toe coordinated looks we’ve ever seen from her. Of course I couldn’t completely abandon the grungy touches that I love, that I tend to associate with the early Lana street style days and the Paradise and Ultraviolence music videos rather than with this album, but I’m never gonna pass up an opportunity to whack out a good floral two piece and putting together Lust for Life inspired looks is the perfect excuse to do that.

So, that marks the end of this post! If you made it to the end, thank you so much for reading! I have a Yesstyle lookbook and review to edit but now that I’ve finished that, I’m trying to go down more of a style inspiration focussed  route with my lookbooks rather than just putting together outfits from clothes I’ve just bought (though I might still do one every so often to bring in a new season-let’s just ignore the fact that they’re all blending into one bc climate change for now, one catastrophe at a time please universe). I find that if you have a specific idea in mind of what you want, it’s super easy to find something similar on Depop and Ebay and that way you avoid buying new things and also take old things off a person’s hands that might otherwise end up being thrown out by a charity shop and then dumped into a landfill from there. Something I’d LOVE to do before this year is out is put together a lookbook based on the most stylish TV shows of the last decade, but that probably won’t be for a while-even so, if you have any recommendations of series to watch which could fit into this category, let me know! 

To finish, I need to go a little bit off-topic so forgive me, but I truly don’t know why this even needs to be said: WEAR A FUCKING MASK. IT IS NOT A POLITICAL ISSUE. IT IS A BASIC HYGIENIC PRACTICE THAT HELPS SPREAD THE STOP OF A HIGHLY CONTAGIOUS DISEASE! RUDIMENTAL SCIENCE! NOT A CHANCE TO PROVE HOW “EDGY” YOU ARE! SERIOUSLY, STOP MAKING A FUCKING PANDEMIC ABOUT YOURSELF! NOBODY ENJOYS WEARING THEM BUT THEY HELP PROTECT OTHERS! SO UNLESS YOU HAVE A VALID MEDICAL REASON NOT TO BE WEARING ONE, DON’T BE A SELFISH PRICK! 

Sorry to sign off on a rant-y note with something that has nothing to do with Lana, lol, but all the stupidity has been grinding me gears lately and I had to let it out on behalf of all retail workers: if we can wear a mask for 9 hours at a time, YOU can tolerate the mild discomfort of wearing one for 10 minutes. I know this doesn’t apply to the majority of people but there’s always a couple of arseholes, isn’t there!?

Stay safe,

Lauren x

[prinsdeasmo]

Happy Birthday Asmo!

ah, the demon who stole my heart www,,, for him i will do anything. so i wrote a drabble! it’s a little angsty, a little stuffy because the last time i wrote something within in a day it was to make fun of my friend and i’s ocs, but most of all! it’s sweet! hopefully!

im on mobile so h o p e f u l l y this line break works? i had to get google chrome for this ;;

please enjoy, though!

A Lovely Surprise

Living thousands of years brings out the extravagant, the luxurious side of you. You’ve lived this long already, why bother with being humble? You’re going to live even longer, so break out the champagne and $20 million debt your older brother is in and live a little! Or a lot! Even, possibly, too much.

But, thousands of years truly is a long time. Though you become accustomed to the sluggish movements of the hours, how the sun seems to never truly set in these unending years of living—there’s only so much you can see. After a while, you’ve seen it all. You’ve seen every face, every present, every colorful party streamer strung from the ceiling and draping from the chandelier; you’ve seen every punch bowl, every spiked drink, and every person puking their heart out at a party. The music all blurs to one, incomprehensible drone of instruments and screeching vocals, and the taste of cake becomes one akin to sampling recycled cardboard.

Asmodeus has seen it all. He’s been given every present, every declaration of love, every moment of insatiable pleasure, yet he still feels nothing on such a grand day as today. The most popular bands and artists of the Devildom play live on a stage of gold glitter and pink lights, surrounded by swooning fans painted in skin tight clothes and smokey eyes. The chandelier of crystal and quartz reflect the faint light of the Devildom’s sky throughout the room, shapes projected onto walls adorned in jewel encrusted banners.

Happy Birthday Asmodeus!

they read, his symbol of lust painted alongside those words. Those words he’s seen countless times.

This party is for him, of course, Asmo spent weeks planning and preparing for it. Everyone here is for him, naturally, handpicked by the birthday boy himself. They’ve all given him gifts and congratulations, they’ve showered him in compliments and adoration. Asmodeus lives for these moments, where everything and everyone is focused on him. It’s all about him.

So why is he so melancholy? Today is the happiest day of his year, the day celebrated only for him. Yet every time he looks up at the scene around him, he feels the need to down yet another flute of Demonus. How many has he had so far? It’s hard to keep count when the strobe lights flash in his eyes, and his own thoughts distance him even further from his party.

Even though everyone is there for Asmo’s birthday, it feels like no one is there for Asmo. That nobody cares it’s his birthday, a day they’ve all seen one too many times.

Suddenly infuriated, Asmodeus finds himself outside the venue. The cool, almost night-like air of the Devildom catches in his curls, softly brushing them against his face. With a sigh he leans over the metal railing protecting one from falling into the canal below. The dark waters of the Devildom rippled his reflection, a downcast expression lingering on his features.

One hand with his fingers woven in his hair, the other propped over the railing, still cupping the flute of Demonus, Asmodeus stares at himself. How pathetic is he to feel so empty on a day dedicated to him? Luckily no one at the party would seem to care if he was gone, a downcast Asmo doesn’t match the aesthetic of a normal Asmo.

“Hey Asmo.”

He’d been so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear someone approach behind him, only their soft call that startled him. Asmodeus quickly turns around, a charming smile smoothing his face. Behind him stands the human; Asmo realizes he hadn’t seen them at the party earlier.

“There you are!” He clasps his hands together, “I was wondering when you’d be here, I got so lonely waiting for you~.”

The human blushes at his cooing, their eyes shifting to ground.

“It took longer than I thought to get ready,” they trail off.

Under his attentive gaze the human shifts nervously. Asmodeus had already noticed their washed and curled hair, and their silky outfit that draped off their shoulders, but he hadn’t noticed their face. Their face that the human usually paid such little attention to. Asmo always chastised them, Your beauty is your face!, he’d say, but they never did anything about it.

Today, their skin glows in the soft light of the Devildom, their eyes shine with fondness, and their cheeks flush with embarrassment. Though his human always looks adorable, today they look exceptionally beautiful.

A beat of silence passes. “Don’t you just look adorable~. You’re so cute I could just eat you up!” Asmodeus steps closer, his free hand reaches out to twirl a finger in their hair. Their face only grows redder to his glee and he leans into their face.

“And I just might! You look oh-so tempting tonight~. Are you my special present that you spoke of earlier? I’ll be glad if-“ He’s rudely cut off by something being shoved between their faces.

“T-this is,” the human mutters, choked. Asmodeus’s previous displeasure at having something interrupt him turns to a smidgen of joy. He gently takes the small, rectangular shaped box and steps back.

The box is perhaps the size of his hands placed next to each other, it’s shape resembling a jewelry box. The wrapping is a plain, light pink, and a gold bow is tied neatly around it. The human slips his forgotten Demonus flute out of his hand.

“I’ll hold onto this.”

Asmodeus offers them a smile. He’s truly grateful that the human got him something, knowing how much they struggle with money and their soft spot for Mammon.

“It must’ve been hard to save up for something,” he says with a light laugh. The human just smiles.

Nimble fingers carefully pull apart the bow, the untied gold ribbon falls to the ground, and the pink wrapping paper is peeled off to reveal a white box. The thin top is pulled off to reveal... not what was expected. Asmodeus blinks.

In the box lies an obviously homemade necklace. It’s simple, a thin metal chain looped through a thick, bulbous... charm? The charm is painted with a metallic, gold paint, accompanied by a painted on design of pink and red colors. A small, red heart lies in the middle, coated in a glittery paint that has it sparkling.

“Ah, you’re supposed to open it like this.” The human is suddenly beside him, their free hand clicking the top of the charm.

Oh, so it is a locket, Asmodeus realizes as the locket opens. He picks it up in one hand, using his thumb to gently open it more. His eyes widen at what’s inside.

The two doors have opened to reveal a picture. A picture of Asmodeus and the human. They’re not doing anything special, they’re not even dressed in anything exciting; they two are just posing silly. Asmo has his chin on their head and is using his pointer fingers to make them smile, while the human is trying to make a peace sign. Rather than them posing with a smile, they’re laughing.

He remembers the day they took this. It was shortly after the retreat to Diavolo’s castle, when Asmodeus and the human made their pact. Lucifer had forced asked Mammon to go shopping for dinner. Naturally, Mammon dragged the human along with him, but got swept up in winning a sweepstakes contest. The human was waiting for him when Asmo bumped into them and noticed a photobooth. ‘Let’s take a picture!’ he’d gasped.

Asmo had dragged them into the small, cramped compartment and 20 minutes whizzed by as he had the two posing and decorating the photos. With their last few Grimm they took a final set of photos. The first two were in the cute pose Asmo tried to have them do, but the human kept giggling at how silly their face had looked in a previous photo. The final picture was this one, the one in the locket he holds now.

“You kept this from so long ago?” he whispers, barely audible. From his peripheral vision he sees them nod.

“Taking all those pictures and laughing together is... a really nice memory for me. I don’t think we ever did anything together like that before. And this picture,” the human touches the locket, “is the best picture I have of your smile. Not that usual, pretty smile you do that makes your face look all handsome, but a real smile. A happy smile.”

His eyes suddenly feel hot. The human continues, “On the left door of the locket is that one really stupid picture of me you and Satan took of me sleeping after an exam.” Asmodeus has to snort at that.

“Oh, you think it’s funny? Satan drew on me with a permanent marker! I had detailed cat whiskers and a nose on my face for a week! I couldn’t wash it off!” They complain, but they’re laughing too.

“...Asmo?” The human looks up at him after he hasn’t said anything for a moment. “Do you like it?” They seemed worried.

Asmodeus bits the inside of his lower lip and suddenly throws his arms around them, pulling them into a tight hug. The human lets out a small, surprised squeak, but their arms wrap around him in return.

In all his years of living, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, Asmodeus had seen everything. Every gift, every proclamation of adoration, every blush across somebody’s skin. There’d been nothing that could surprise him anymore. But, today he finds himself wrong. In his hand he grips a small, poorly made locket that means more than any expensive clothing or make-up ever could to him. Something that isn’t adoration. Something that isn’t lust or heat. It’s something he hadn’t felt since the days he’d lost his heavenly name; Love.

Asmodeus feels something hot fall down his cheek.

“I love it.”

。

。

birthdays are super important to and for me so i’m really glad i could write something nice for asmo! obeysme’s recent asmo meta had me feeling so i tried to convey some of that lonely angst up in here yo

anyway, happy birthday to the best demon boy!!! i love you asmo!’

[mxliv-oftheendless]

Twist of Fate, Chapter 11

IT’S THE SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER, GUYS!! Oh my gosh it feels so weird and surreal. Hope you guys enjoy the chapter! Tagging @cosmicrealmofkissteria and @tanookiroxx. Happy reading! 

In which the night of the farewell ball finally arrives.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The three weeks had finally almost come to an end. All the meetings were over; the future of the alliance between KISSteria and the Celestial realm was secure; all that was left now was the party celebrating the end of the diplomacy matters, then the two days the KISSterians would spend there before returning to their home realm.

Starchild took a moment to adjust the outfit he had picked out for the evening, hoping it would be a good one. But he liked how it looked. He suddenly thought of how he hoped Tomaziel would like it. Not that anyone’s opinion should have held more weight in his mind than his own, but he couldn’t help thinking that it would be nice to know Tomaziel liked it.

Upon entering the ballroom, he was met with the usual sights and sounds—music playing, people walking around and standing and talking. He knew from past parties like this that they were waiting for it to officially start. He was scanning the room for Ace or the Elder when he heard Ace from one side. “There you are!”

Ace came up with a wide grin, Amalthea following behind him with a smile of her own, and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “I was wondering when you would get here! How many hours did ya spend gettin’ ready this time?”

Starchild playfully scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He grinned back. “I only took an hour and a half.”

“Prince Starchild of KISSteria getting ready in only an hour and a half? This man is possessed!” Ace started laughing.

Starchild laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Oh please.” He turned to Amalthea. “Has he ever told you about the time he had a fit because, quote, ‘I look like lady with this poodle hair’?”

Amalthea glanced at her husband with a smile. “No, I don’t believe he has,”

Ace gave a sheepish laugh. “Eheheh… We don’t have to talk about that…”

“Oh no, I believe we do,” Starchild smirked deviously. He winked at Amalthea. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

“I’m being ganged up on!” Ace sobbed dramatically.

Their laughter was interrupted by the approach of the Elder, who looked amused by what she saw, and Tomaziel following behind her. “If you all are ready,” she said to them, “we ought to officially begin the festivities.”

“Oh, right, of course,” Ace nodded, and all of them moved to get into their correct positions.

Since Tomaziel was aide to the King of Jendell, he would be walking behind them all in the procession with the head Council members. The four monarchs would be all walking together to symbolize the strength of the alliance between the two realms. Before Tomaziel moved to get into his place, his eyes met Starchild’s. They shared a smile, then Tomaziel went to stand behind them.

Starchild offered his arm to the Elder and said softly, “You look beautiful, Mother.” Though to be honest he thought she always did. Tonight she wore one of her more extravagant gowns with her flowing red cape, and a silver circlet that looked like twisting vines sat in her greying hair. She looked every bit like a queen.

The Elder smiled softly. “Thank you, my son. I noticed you decided to wear purple tonight.”

Starchild glanced down at his outfit, surprised she had even noticed. It had been a while since he had worn anything that wasn’t simply black and silver. “I thought it would be something nice to wear tonight, is all,”

“It was a good decision. You look very handsome.” The Elder smirked at him slightly. “I’m sure you will have many admirers tonight.”

Both mother and son shared a laugh—though Starchild’s was a little more embarrassed—as the music changed and the procession began.

When they were all at the front of the Great Hall and standing on the raised platform that housed Ace and Amalthea’s thrones, Ace and the Elder picked up goblets of wine and stepped forward together. “Good people of the Celestial Realm, and honored guests of KISSteria,” Ace began, “tonight is one of celebration. Although we mourn the departure of dear friends, let us also celebrate the renewal of our bonds of friendship and the assurance that our alliance will continue to be prosperous for us all.”

“Tonight we honor the alliance of KISSteria and the Celestials,” the Elder continued, “as one that shall last for years to come.” She raised her goblet. “To unity.”

Everyone raised their glasses and echoed. “To unity!”

Starchild couldn’t help but smile happily as he raised his cup of wine to his lips. The last three weeks had been as the Elder had warned him; long and arduous, with meetings that were numerous and taxing, but in the end, it was all worth it.

Ace set down his goblet and gave an inviting grin to the musicians. “Now then… music!”

-JENDELL-

Starchild enjoyed parties, and he was in a very good mood the entire night, but eventually he couldn’t brush away the urge for a moment alone. So he gave a polite smile to the woman he had been talking to and turned to melt into the crowds. His eyes scanned the room, then he smiled again when he spotted what he was looking for. It was a pillar in one corner of the ballroom, with enough room for someone to slip behind it and be relatively concealed from the crowd. He had discovered it years ago on a different trip to Jendell.

He headed over, glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking, and slipped behind the pillar, leaning back and closing his eyes with a sigh. Despite how much of a social butterfly he sometimes was, it was nice to get away from crowds once in a while. There was a surprising amount of room behind the pillar, enough for him to stretch out; in fact there was enough room for two people to fit behind it and still be hidden relatively well. A memory came to mind of one night he and Ace spent kissing back here, making him smile. He wondered if Ace had done that with Amalthea at some point.

“Hiding from the crowds?”

Starchild opened his eyes and looked to find Tomaziel peering behind the pillar at him with a smile. He immediately smiled back and chuckled. “For a while. I was starting to feel a little stifled back there.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t all the noblewomen trying to get your attention?”

Starchild laughed outright. “Oh no, I was enjoying that. I am a ladies man back on Earth, after all.”

“You are?” Tomaziel looked rather surprised. “But I thought…” He glanced out at the crowd of people. “Do you mind if I join you back there?”

“Oh no, by all means,”

Tomaziel glanced over his shoulder then moved behind the pillar. “I thought…” his face turned slightly awkward. “Forgive me, but I thought you liked men.”

“I do,” Starchild answered easily. “To be honest, I thought I preferred only men. But my time on Earth has made me think that perhaps I like both. Though I am attracted to men more.” He paused, then cautiously ventured, “Does that… matter to you, or…?”

“No,” Tomaziel shook his head. “It doesn’t. I’m just… rather surprised you seem so at ease with saying it.”

“Oh, believe me, it’s taken me years to get to this point,” Starchild smiled wryly. “Literal years. But thank you. Besides…” he looked over Tomaziel’s appearance and gave him a flirty smirk. “How could I not like a man when he’s dressed like that?”

Tomaziel looked down at his robes. They were formal robes, perhaps ceremonial ones going by the crest of the royal family stitched onto the lapel, and were black with silver lightning bolts and other ornamentation. He looked back up at Starchild with a smile and a laugh. “Thank you. You look nice, too.”

“You like it?” Starchild glanced down at his black and purple outfit. “It’s funny, I haven’t worn purple in years, except for when I’m on Earth, of course. But when I’m here, I keep wearing clothes that are black and silver. I thought purple would look nice for today.”

“Well, I like it,” Tomaziel said, with a soft smile that made Starchild’s heart pick up speed. “You look lovely.”

Starchild suddenly felt his cheeks grow a little warm, and a shy-sounding laugh burst out that was more of a giggle. “Thank you.” He turned to take a gulp of wine from the glass still in his hand, set it down, then turned back. “So… only two more days before I have to leave. Have you found any other ways we can stay in contact?”

Tomaziel shook his head regretfully. “No… I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t had the time to look for any.”

“That’s fine. We can write letters. I will be in KISSteria for a couple more months before going back to Earth; we still have time to figure something out.” Starchild gave him a cheeky smile. “It will be sad to not see your cute face every day.”

“I…” Tomaziel’s cheeks turned light blue and he ducked his head. Starchild’s eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion at that, and was about to open his mouth to ask what was wrong when Tomaziel gave a giggle. “I’m sorry, I just…” He looked back up at Starchild with a faint blue dusting across his cheeks. “Sometimes you say things like… like that, and I am not sure how to respond because,” he gave another nervous giggle as he shrugged, “I never thought something like this would happen. I always thought we would simply be friends and nothing more. But then… as I spent more time with you, and then when you suddenly grabbed me to kiss me in the training hall, I realized…” His fingers reached out to touch Starchild’s and he felt the Spark when they made contact. “I really do like you, Starchild. And it feels… so surreal sometimes to know you feel the same about me.”

For a moment, Starchild couldn’t speak, struck dumb by the sincerity of Tomaziel’s words and the look on his face. “I… I really do like you too, Tomaziel.” He moved his hand so that it fully grasped the other man’s. “I thought that too, that we would simply be friends. But when I spent more time with you, and over these past three weeks, I’ve realized that I… well, that I really like you too. Before this, I was content to not be in a relationship again, but…” He squeezed his hand. “I want to be with you. Really, I do. I want to explore what I feel for you. You’re so patient and understanding, and if you do not understand, you still try to. I like that about you. I like you.”

Tomaziel looked to be the one that was now speechless. He began to lean closer to him, so slowly he perhaps didn’t even realize, and he leaned in to meet him halfway.

Their lips met in a kiss, and Starchild’s heart felt like it was soaring. He cupped Tomaziel’s face with one hand and poured more passion into it, and then felt Tomaziel touch his face to do the same. He felt little sparks dance across their lips and fingertips at every touch and sighed softly into the kiss; he wanted to feel those little sparks every day of his life. It was like fireworks were going off around them.

Oh… Oh, suddenly he wanted more. Suddenly he was remembering the image that had flashed in his mind that night; that image of Tomaziel’s face as he threw back his head in a cry of pleasure. What would it be like in reality?

His mind reminded him of his promise to himself, of how he wanted to slow down and get to know Tomaziel first before they did anything like that. But suddenly all he could think of was what it would be like to make love to Tomaziel—to kiss Tomaziel again and again until they couldn’t breathe and smooth his hands across Tomaziel’s skin and Tomaziel Tomaziel Tomaziel—

And suddenly it was so easy to give into his feelings. He didn’t even realize he had done it. Instead he, reluctantly, pulled away. “I’m feeling rather fatigued,” he said quietly. “Would you be so kind as to escort me back to my rooms?”

Tomaziel laughed softly. “It would be my pleasure. You should inform the Elder.”

“Yes, I should,”

Starchild stepped away from him, again reluctantly, and turned to find the Elder. Luckily she was easy to spot, speaking with someone who looked like Jendellian nobility. He quickly headed over. “Pardon me,” he said politely. “Elder, I’m feeling rather tired. Tomaziel has agreed to escort me back to my chambers for the night, if you will allow it.”

The Elder nodded. “Of course. It is rather late anyhow. Sleep well, Starchild.”

He didn’t miss the look she sent him, but pretended not to notice it. He inclined his head, then turned to walk back to Tomaziel. Smiling, he gestured to the ballroom doors with his head. “Shall we?”

And with that, the two left the ballroom.

-JENDELL-

Honestly, Starchild wasn’t sure how he managed to make it all the way to his guest chambers without giving into the desire to kiss Tomaziel again. But their hands did join together at some point, and it made them both look at each other. The look in Tomaziel’s eyes made Starchild’s heart race faster and his stomach do flips like an acrobat. It made him start giggling childishly and pull Tomaziel along down the hallway, and smile even wider when he heard Tomaziel start giggling along with him.

When they finally made it to his guest chambers, Tomaziel grabbed the door handle and pulled the door open, grinning at him. “After you,”

Starchild giggled. “What a gentleman.” He entered, then Tomaziel followed after him and turned to close the door.

As soon as he turned back around, Starchild was kissing him again, his fingers gripping his clothing. Tomaziel’s hands reached up to grab onto Starchild’s shirt, blown almost completely away by the intensity of the kiss. Starchild felt him sigh against his mouth and his heart skipped a beat.

Through a bit of gentle direction, he had Tomaziel backing up towards his bed. It was a bit slowly, since they couldn’t help eagerly kissing each other every few moments. He broke away and managed to gasp out, “Oh Gods…”

“What?” Tomaziel panted.

When he tried to think of something to say, his mind came up blank. “I… I forgot what I was going to say,” he said, giggling sheepishly.

Tomaziel couldn’t help laughing. “Is there any way I can help you remember?”

“Well, there is one way…”

Starchild pushed Tomaziel to sit down on the bed, smiling sweetly at him. He kissed him gently, and it was so sweet and perfect that Tomaziel wanted more. He threw his arms around his neck and pressed himself closer, and questioningly ran his tongue over Starchild’s mouth. Within moments, Starchild had melted into the deepened kiss, placing his hands on his hips and leaning closer.

Unfortunately, he leaned too far and lost his balance. He fell right on top of Tomaziel, making their teeth clack against each other and making Starchild accidentally bite Tomaziel’s bottom lip.

“Ow,” Tomaziel mumbled.

Starchild flushed in embarrassment. “I—I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

To his amazement, Tomaziel suddenly snorted and his head fell back as he began to laugh. After a moment of shock, Starchild found himself smiling and joining in, and soon they were both lying there giggling at what had just happened.

“But seriously,” Starchild managed through his laughter. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Tomaziel chuckled. “I’m fine,”

Starchild giggled down at him. “Good,”

Smiling, Tomaziel stretched up for another kiss and Starchild happily reciprocated. This was going so wonderfully and he felt so light he could float on air…

But then he felt Tomaziel’s hands move down to his waist and his mind screeched to a halt. WHAT AM I DOING?!

He pulled away, his heartbeat quickening with fear this time. “I… I-I…” Embarrassment began to claw at his stomach. How did it look from Tomaziel’s point of view? One moment he was passionately going for it, then the next he suddenly didn’t want to. How did that make any sense?

Brown eyes blinked up at him. “Do you not want to…?”

“I… No…” Starchild got off of him to sit back, trying to hide his increasingly hot face. “N-Not now… I-I… I forgot what I said I wanted to do. I… I still feel like I don’t know you well enough to…” His face must have looked incredibly red now. “I-I’m sorry, I know it must have seemed like I wanted to, but I… I just… I changed my mind…”

Tomaziel didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, to Starchild’s immediate relief, he sat up and nodded. “I understand. That’s all right.” He tilted his head a bit shyly at him. “Can I still kiss you?”

A smile bloomed on Starchild’s face and he laughed. “We can still do that,”

He happily let Tomaziel lean forwards and kiss him again. It seemed he would never get over how understanding the Jendellian was. He had to be so unpredictable sometimes…

The thought made him break away and speak again. “Thank you for understanding, really. I must be so,” they kissed again, “so erratic sometimes.”

“I don’t mind,” Tomaziel replied. “It made sense to me, why you don’t want to anymore. There’s really,” another kiss, “nothing to worry about.”

Starchild couldn’t help but kiss him again, smiling against his lips. “You’re so sweet…” Tomaziel suddenly yawned widely, making him smile and laugh. “And tired.”

“I suppose I am,” Tomaziel shrugged, smiling and chuckling sheepishly. “I just felt exhausted all of a sudden.”

Starchild chuckled. “You should get some sleep,”

“I should…” Tomaziel moved to get off the bed, but suddenly stopped. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I wonder how it will look if anyone sees me leaving your chambers…”

Starchild opened his mouth to say something, then stopped and considered his words. He hadn’t thought about that before. No one knew about him and Tomaziel, and he knew people loved to gossip. The only solution he could think of was… “You could stay here,”

“I—What?” From the way he spoke, Starchild wondered if Tomaziel’s face was flushing blue. “Stay here? As in… sleep here? With you?”

“Yes,” Starchild nodded. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“But I thought you said you didn’t want to…”

“W-Well…” Starchild shrugged. “Just because we aren’t doing anything doesn’t mean we can’t sleep in the same bed.” He smiled at him in an attempt to ease his nerves. “I trust you enough that I don’t think you’ll dishonor me.”

His quip made Tomaziel smile and give a laugh. “Alright… If you really do not mind…”

“Excellent.” Starchild couldn’t help kissing his cheek. “Let me go change.”

When he came out of his bath chamber after getting ready for bed, he found Tomaziel still waiting for him. He had taken off his boots and removed his formal garb, leaving behind black underclothes. “I thought you would have gotten into bed,” he remarked.

“I was waiting for you,” came the reply.

Starchild couldn’t help smiling. “You’re sweet.” He pulled back the blanket and got into bed, Tomaziel following suit. After turning out the lights, Starchild turned back to Tomaziel. “Well…” he pressed a swift kiss to his cheek. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He couldn’t see in the darkness, but it sounded like Tomaziel was smiling.

Starchild’s heart couldn’t help but start beating a little faster as he laid down to sleep. He was sleeping in the same bed as a man he’d only been in a relationship with for two weeks.

… Considering his track record, that was an improvement. But still.

He felt Tomaziel rustling and shifting beside him and turned his head. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“No, I am just… trying to be a little more comfortable…”

A bold idea suddenly popped into his head. They only had two days left to see each other anyway; he might as well try the things he had been thinking about doing.

So he rolled over onto his side so that they were facing each other and moved closer to lace their fingers together. He smiled at Tomaziel, ignoring how warm his face was becoming. “How about now?”

Tomaziel looked down at where their hands were joined under the blanket, then looked back up at him and smiled. “It’s a little better,”

His cheeks felt slightly warmer. “Good.” He shifted slightly and closed his eyes to sleep. The last thing he remembered thinking before drifting off was how he could get used to falling asleep like this…

[fenrys-moonbae]

Lily of the Night - Prelude

Summary: I was named after the night lilies that bloomed on the far side of the Sidra.The large pale, cream colored flowers with veins of plum midnight that entwined paths through their velvet soft petals. The same flowers that were said to grant wishes on Starfall. Father always said it was those flowers that gave him me...I never meant to resurrect that bird in the garden that evening and never meant to start the chain of events that nearly lead to the destruction of not only Prythian but the world.Post-Acowar following the life of Feysand's daughter and her journey to find her way home and stop the wrath of the Mother and the Cauldron. Includes numerous OC's and canon characters. Story will follow both the main characters and OC's. Prologue--Mourning the Lost I was named after the night lilies that bloomed on the far side of the Sidra. The large pale, cream colored flowers with veins of plum midnight that entwined paths through their velvet soft petals. The palm sized blooms whose aroma mimicked the sweet caress of rain and the sharp tinge of sodden earth.

The same flowers that were said to grant wishes on Starfall—that is, if you were lucky enough to witness one blooming under the light of the traveling spirits that passed through Velaris that night.

 The lilies were said to only bloom every few hundred years and only on the night the dancing spirits passed.Father always said it was those flowers that gave him me, that he’d wished on a single bloom he saw open in the glittering light that night and it was precisely a year later that he got me.

The heavenly star gifted to the Court of Dreams. A beacon of hope after the dark night that had encompassed Prythian, the darkness that had stolen so many lives but had carved a path of hope.

Uncle, however, said heavenly was the last word he’d use to describe me, “heathen” and “bossy” were more suited. In hindsight, I’d be inclined to agree.

Brother had been born before me, the heir to the throne of the Night Court and arguably one of the most powerful beings to grace Pyrthian. It was said that Mother would not be able to bear children after him, after the sheer hell it had been bringing such a powerful being into the world and the fact it had nearly cost her life. My birth had been nothing short of miraculous in light of it. My birth had been milder, one might almost venture to have called it peaceful. My power did not rattle to the ends of Pyrthian as my brothers did. I was born with no power that could rival that of my brother or parents, or so they had thought. It was believed that I was just a precious flower given as a gift of peace to the Night Court, a child born in harmony and as a symbol of good fortune. How wrong they had all been. It wasn’t long before my power manifested itself and proved to be far more frightening than anything my brother or parents possessed. I hadn’t meant to bring that baby bird back from the dead that evening in the garden, didn’t mean to scare my brother and didn’t mean to reverse the scars on uncle Azriel’s hands when Mother asked me to show her what I had done. The ability to undo what had been done, the power the resurrect the dead and return time to a state it existed at previously. I didn’t know how I was able to even do such things, but somehow I could. It scared the Court of Dreams to say the least.

They began scrambling to understand where such power could originate from, to understand just how such power could have manifested. There were whispers and fear, so much fear, of what enemies would do to me, what they would do to obtain my power if they knew what I could do. Harsh whispers and mention of safety plans, protect her, it was spoken over and over, protect, protect, protect. Hide and protect. Mother told me everything would be okay, that we would figure out and, above all else, they would protect me at any and all costs. How wrong she had been. It was that same night that things changed ten years after my birth. The night the darkness encompassed the Court of Dreams and the shining star they’d all come to love was stolen away in the night. The night the celestial blooms given by the mother to those who had earned her blessing began dying.The same night that I died. ————- “PAPA!!!” The young girl cried, large violet eyes brimming with tears and voice cracking as her hands shoved hard against the thick cords of the muscle of the arms, MY arms, pinning her, “Please PAPA!!” No… Wind tore at my face and jacket, the powerful wings at my back sending us flying for the coast, the smell of the sea bombarding my senses, the scent of fear entangled with it. I felt the dark chuckle rip from my throat, the hideous sound that didn’t belong there, the body I had no control over-- as I fought, thrashing against the bonds, the heavy chains blocking me from moving my own body. I felt my hand dig harshly into her side, hard enough to tear skin, earning a scream of agony from the small child as she thrashed trying to escape, pleading to be released.

The wind ripped her long black locks away from her face, knotting the silky strands into tangles. Those violet eyes, my eyes, stared up at me, terror and panic reflecting back in the pale light of the moon as she whimpered another plea.

Bargains of never misbehaving again, promises of never instigating fights with her brother, saying she loved me and she what sorry for whatever she had done…

The freezing air bit into my skin painfully, but more painfully into the girls face, flushed red from the biting cold and her sobbing. The hoarseness of her voice became more profound as she whimpered yet another plea.

“I thought you wanted to fly?” I heard my own voice mock the child, my child, as she screamed into the night for her mother, for Cassian, Azriel, anyone.

Stop.

I screamed and threw myself harder into the walls blocking me, her words tearing my heart down its seams. I was helpless and useless, unable to do anything but watch as the scene of horror unfolded before me.

A blood curdling scream tore from her throat as I felt my hands wrap around the delicate membrane of her wings, the gift of her Illyrian blood, my Illyrian blood-as I tore them off.

Tissue screamed as it severed, popping sickeningly as it tore free. Blood gushed in every direction, splattering across my face and hers.

Numbness cascaded through me as I fruitlessly fought against it, against the wrongness of what lay before me, of what I’d been useless to stop--

It was too much to handle, I’d destroyed it, the beautiful gift from my mate and the Mother herself.I felt myself drop the child, her body limp having lost consciousness from the pain and trauma. I screamed in agony for anything to stop it, to cease the sin I’d just committed unable to stop myself--

----————

I shot up in a blind fury, scrambling for anything in the darkness to tether to, but there was nothing.

Celeste, Celeste, Celeste. The name thrummed through me like a drum, nausea reared up to meet me, I felt my stomach tighten, preparing to empty itself on the floor.

Black shadows engulfed the room, so dark and dense that I couldn’t see anything before me. The house trembled beneath the might of it.

Soft, cool hands were on me instantly, gentle words of comfort were murmured as those hands worked soothing circles on my back. A dream, not your fault, I’m here. Those words....Truth to those words, truth except one. It wasn’t alright. Celeste, my daughter, my precious child, stolen in the night right from under our noses.The same little girl who we had searched for in a blind panic in those critical hours following her capture. The same little girls who’s precious, so small and precious, wings had been found torn from her body near the border of the Day Court, violently and viciously ripped from her small frame---

I lost it, couldn’t contain it. I emptied the contents of my stomach on the floor, tears blindly running down my face.

Heaving I propped myself on my hands, sorrow and blind rage coursing through my system as I realized I hadn’t been able to save her. As I heaved the final contents of my stomach I felt the soft patter of droplets on my back, tears from my mate.

“Feyre,” I gasped, glancing on my shoulder to look at her, to try and comfort in nightmare made real-

“Don’t,” her words were clipped, forced to be calm as she held tightly onto me, “Just don’t. We….there’s….please.”

The last word came out in a broken sob as I felt my High Lady bury her soft face against my back, her thin arms wrapped around my back and chest tethering us both.

It’d been almost thirteen years since we had lost Celeste and still the nightmares would not cease.

The nightmares of seeing myself kill my daughter over and over. The pain of losing her hadn’t faded. They had been so sneaky, so quick when they took her. We’d had virtually no time to respond to find her. We’d torn the world apart looking for her, racing against all odds.

Those odds had run out.We’d been too late.

We’d failed.

No, I’d failed.

So no words came to me as I flipped over and tucked Feyre into my arms, her frame so small and fragile against mine, and held her. Our tears entwined as they fell freely, as we lay prone on the soft carpet of our room, the world too quiet, too serene. We’d never found her body. Just her shredded wings- A sob escaped my chest.

This hell just wouldn’t end.

[rollforpersuasion]

The idiots go to Saltmarsh pt. 2

Sept. 16

Illyria glanced up from her novel, a thrilling and eyebrow raising Dwarvish saga, and said hello to the tiny stranger. The goose hissed at the interruption, furious at being woken before dawn.

The gnome, Rackham Byrnne, told them to head toward the deck and lend a hand to the sailors who were struggling to navigate through the burgeoning storm. Cleis immediately sprung to her feet and tossed her satchel around her chest. She was three steps away from the door when Len began tossing on a pair of discarded shoes and a cloak… though as she was lacing the boots she realized absentmindedly that they weren’t hers. 

In moments Illyria was at Cleis’ side, clinging to her arm as if it were a life raft. The pirate scowled and shook the larger woman off as best she could and began climbing the stairs to the deck. Illyria clung tighter and followed her into the night. 

As Len and Talia emerged they heard faintly from the cargo hold, “Where’s my boots? Wait, where’s my cloak?” Len glanced at Talia and shrugged before turning to assess the chaos into which they had emerged. Several sailors that had been sleeping below burst out behind them, one barefoot and cursing his bad luck. 

The sky was black and the waves were rising ever higher, sloshing onto the deck with frequent fury.

They were fucked. 

But the tiny gnome was yelling for them to make themselves useful. 

The wind whipped back and forth and the rain continued to pelt the deck. Illyria let out a soft hum at the sight and then shrugged .

“It’s just, I don’t know, drizzling,” Illyria said. She held up her holy symbol with a smirk, casually remarking that she would be fine before turning back toward the stairs. 

Still clinging to Cleis, Illyria inched closer. She lifted one thin, auburn hand and ran her fingers down the side of Cleis’s face. 

“Bless you child,” she whispered. Cleis stared in rising horror the longer the cheek cupping lasted. Illyria suddenly patted her cheek with a firm pop. The elf cast guidance on her still bewildered counterpart before letting go completely, turning dramatically on her boot, opening her book and descending the stairs back toward her cot. 

Cleis peered up toward the stars, or what few she could glimpse among the rolling clouds. She used her navigation tools and began to quickly calculate a course toward the still invisible shore. Sprinting to the quarterdeck (thank you very much to the roll 17) she was able to discern a familiar constellation. They were 15 degrees too far west. Pointing toward the east she yelled directions and Captain Grendanna Stormbreaker immediately shifted the wheel. Perhaps she was in awe of her confidence, perhaps she had nothing to lose. 

Talia glanced around and with a rising wave of determination she strode toward a barrel at the center of the ship. The warlock knew a riveting prayer would rally the gods toward their plight and boost the morale of the crew. She felt it in her bones. And who was she to let the crew down?

She hefted herself up onto the barrel and eyed the hustling sailors. At the top of her lungs she began. 

“We cal—” and immediately Talia fell through the rotten lid. (You see Talia unfortunately had rolled a three). From within the now cracked and sagging barrel she glanced around and thankfully realized no one had noticed. Though that also filled her with frustration. How dare those peons not listen to her call upon the gods?

Rotten potatoes clung to her clothes and squelched inside her shoes as she pulled herself from the wreckage. At least the rain was cleaning the muck from her. She’d have to give her socks a good washing though. 

Len meanwhile had decided her best bet at being any matter of assistance would be to ascend to the heavens. She headed toward the mainmast, determined to lower the highest sails. (Len rolls a 5) Leaping up she grabbed the first and second handles with ease. 

If only Goose could see this, she thought as pride at her own incredible acrobatic skill rose within her.

As she reached for the third peg her hand slipped on the wet wood and she fell, knocking the wind out of her lungs upon the brutal impact. 

An hour passes. Len climbs over and over and never makes it more than halfway up the mast. She was thankful Goose had stayed below deck after all. Talia prays and mutters — perhaps the words “powers that be” and “eternal darkness” slip through — she’ll never admit just who she had attempted to summon to save them. The sailors start to wonder if she is the cause of their obviously celestial damnation. 

Cleis and the Captain plot course after course and fight the wheel as they attempt to remain pointed toward Saltmarsh. Illyria discovers the next chapter has a saucy turn of events she hadn’t predicted and eagerly turns the page. The thin paper slices at her fingertip and she frowns before sucking the gently bleeding thumb and starting the next paragraph. When she reads what was oh-so-thoroughly described her eyebrow raised. 

The waves are now the size of the mast. Captain Stormbreaker yells to her crew, muscles straining to hold the wheel in place. 

“I’ll need everyone to try even harder! We have to work together in order to —”

A wave crashes over the side of the boat sending Cleis face first onto the floor. She banged her head on the wheel on the way down and saw a new assortment of stars when she closed her eyes to block the pain. Illyria went flying from her perch on the cot. Thankfully her quick reflexes shoved her finger inbetween the pages of the book so despite the tumble she didn’t lose her spot. Len and Talia luckily are able to stagger and remain on their feet. 

Captain Stormbreaker grabs Cleis by her drenched black linen top and lifts her to her feet. “Do. Something.” She growls. “Anything!”

Illyria — as if sensing someone else was touching her new favorite creature — runs from below deck up toward Cleis. She possessively rips her away from the captain and holds her face in both of her hands. Gazing into her eyes she asks, “Do you understand boats?”

Frustration wars with disbelief and Cleis glares back at the elf. Her fingers flex, itching to rip the dagger free from its holster in her boot, but when the orange elf begins speaking again she pauses. 

“Tell me what to say and I can use Thaumaturgy to project my voice across the ship,” Illyria promises with a smile as if she had suddenly solved all of their problems with one compassionate gesture.

Cleis hates the fact that she needs her. But the plan isn’t bad so she nods once and closes her eyes in an attempt to abate the murderous thoughts running through her mind. Tapping into the plethora of stressful fights against the sea she’s been a part of over the years Cleis takes a breath, glances at Illyria and turns to the rest of the crew.

“You will listen to me. Listen!” Cleis bellows. 

Illyria raises to her full height and gestures dramatically toward the crew, her voice ringing in all their ears. 

“You will all listen to me! Listen!” She echoes and sends a wink Cleis’ way.

“Sailors all over the world will be looking to us, to the Sharkfin to lead!”

“Sailors! Blah blah blah… Sharkfin! Leaders!” Illyria yells. Her hand gestures intensify. It’s obvious her years of community theatre are paying off. 

“And what will they see? Frightened bilge rats aboard a derelict ship? No! No! They will see free men and freedom!” Cleis continues with narrowed eyes glaring at the elf beside her.

“Umm are they going to see rats? Probably. Maybe free men? Freedom? Not sure how you can literally see that, but alright. You’re the director.” 

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” Cleis said. “Man the stations to which you were assigned at the start of the voyage.” 

“Do this! Actually wait, I don’t understand what she’s saying right now,” Illyria says with a finger raised to her chin. As she taps she mouths the words Cleis had just said as if attempting to solve some ancient riddle.

“Man the fucking stations you were assigned.” Cleis breaths out through gritted teeth. 

“OK, OK I see. Man the stations you were assigned! At the start of the voyage?”

“Do your fucking jobs or we will die!” Cleis says. Her nails dug into the railing as she dares Illyria with the sheer weight of her gaze to screw up such a simple statement. 

“What is fucking?” The elf asks, voice still booming. She turns to the captain. “What is fucking? I don’t know this word. We don’t use it on my island back home. What does it mean?”

“YOU’RE OLDER THAN ME BY SO MUCH!” Cleis yells. “How do you not know what I’m saying?” “You’re older than me by so much!” Illyria echoes to the now staring crew. 

“I’m ending the speech,” Cleis says as she runs her hand over her aching brow. 

“I’m ending the speech!” Illyria repeats before waving her hand and bowing to the crew. (Cleis rolls a 17)

The crew found the performance...  confusing. However, upon watching Cleis’ face turn bright red and a vein emerging along her neck and forehead they began to get the gist of the message, or at the very least the threat behind it. Lightning flashed in her eyes and Cleis’ skin began to turn green with unchanneled magic. 

To say the least they are terrified and the soaked sailors begin to work even faster at their tasks. 

“I think it worked, but you’ll have to explain what a fucking was for me later alright?” Illyria whispers to Cleis as she passes. The half elf grinds her teeth and keeps moving. 

TBC