#soldier poet king au

[beansismyreligion]

:) ★ ?

Dewey measured twelve inches with the ruler, Huey lifted the medallion to the correct height, and Louie held the lantern. Three seemed to be the perfect number to get the job done, and Huey smiled. He could’ve done it by himself, probably, but he didn’t have to, and that was the beauty of it.

Immediately, little points of light shone down onto the map, traveling through the total six gems.

“Cool,” Dewey whispered, and Huey smiled wider.

Fanart of chapter 15 of Solider, Poet, King by @stargaze-sunflower !! go give it a read !!

“Look!” Dewey exclaimed excitedly, leaning forward and bumping Huey’s shoulder in the process. “It’s all lined up!”

And he was right; five of the gem lights were dancing above existing villages, but one of Dewey’s blue dots was swaying out in the middle of nowhere.

“Mark it down!” Huey urged.

Dewey scrambled for the pencil and drew a smiley face right under his blue light.

[cactus-zombie]

The Savior of the world and his two fucked up ghosts

Base by @miss-mossball

ALT versions under the cut

[mists-reading-nook]

Styles of worship: The Soldier

It is said that to worship The Soldier,one must protect.

The Soldier is worshiped in battle. Soldiers pray to both them and The King before a battle. They are often referred to as "The Sword". Many polearm,claymore,and Sword users pay their respects to them.

Offerings:

-The Soldier doesn't have many worship sites or offering sites,but they do get private offerings.

-people tend to leave a big cut of the rewards they get to The Soldier,many people offering the spoils of war to them.

-Adventures also tend to give a piece of their quest rewards to The Soldier.

-Many people pray to the soldier to get luck while fighting.

-It's common practice for generals to lead a group prayer before battle.

-Many tales of battles won are attributed to the blessings of the three celestial gods,but mostly to the King and Solider.

-They are the most likely to get blood sacrifices

-Many worship by protecting and fighting,not so much praying and offering

-Statues of The Solider show them either in battle,or holding a weapon of some kind

Characters who explicitly worship The Solider: (note,all characters worship the three gods,especially the king,but some characters lean towards certain gods more than others)

Diluc,Noelle,Jean,Ei/Raiden Shogun,Kazuha,Heizou,Ayato,Beidou,Bennet,Cyno,Eula,Shenhe,Xiao,Dehya

****

Styles of worship,The Soldier! This is kinda an intro to the series as a whole!

Also,would it be ok if I made the solider and poet oc-like? (Giving them names + pronouns and stuff),cus I want to keep it as ambiguous as possible,but I also want the overall story to make sense,and it's kinda hard to do some chapters without the Soldier and Poet having names of some sort.

[goth-goro]

Soldier/Poet/King!Royal Trio

Goro is the Soldier. He is tired of fighting but he knows no other way forward. He claws his way through life, all sharp edges and shining teeth. He dreams of quiet, of healing, of something-or someone-completely and utterly /safe/. but he cannot see a world for himself where that is achievable. But still. He fights. He wishes he were the King, steadfast and strong, sure of his own steps. But, alas, he stays the Soldier.

Sumire is the Poet. She feels so deeply, loves so deeply. She is filled with pain and sorrow she cannot even begin to understand. She channels every ounce of that pain into anything she can create, and tears herself to shreds in the process. She wishes to be the soldier, to stand tall and proud and know how to use the passion she holds to /ruin/ any person who threatens to hurt those she loves. And yet, her nature cannot betray her, and she is the Poet.

Akira, The King. Surrounded by those who look to him for guidance, whether he believes he deserves such trust or not. He gives every ounce of himself to his people, lets them pull him apart if it may keep them fed, if only for a day. He cries out to the world for help, only for an echo to return. He is the highest power, no mentor to guide him. He wishes he were the Poet, able to relinquish the burden on his shoulders. Wishes to love so openly, without expectation. But of course, when nobody else knows where to turn, it’s him who picks up the pieces of the kingdom, who tells his people that everything will, of course, be okay.

[delusional-mishaps]

hey... hey.. im dropping a new au... haha...

so eyeah! based off the soldier/poet/king song, particularity the trend on tiktok based off of the test!! i got poet when i took it, then had many thoughts... as u can see LMAO

version of nightmare with a crown and without bcs i couldnt decide which one i liked more

close-ups (and lore??) under the cut!!

lore time :3

nightmare's a very... controlling ruler of his kingdom. as he feeds off of negativity, the people of his kingdom must be miserable. his soldiers enforce this rule of negativity however they can.... the people in the village know they cannot publicly show positive emotions

enter the poet.. they're actually a travelling bard! they happen upon this particular kingdom, and thus they don't know the rules of the kingdom... so they start a performance and gain quite the crowd. people are happy and it causes a great big deal. the kingdom's soldiers are sent out to fix this mistake.

cross ends up arresting the poet, and brings them before the king to decide what to do with them. nightmare's like "um... obviously lock them up??? girl fym you dont know what to do with them.."

the poet, obviously not wanting to go to jail for simply being a silly happy lil guy, decides to attempt to strike a deal with the king!

"excuse me, your highness, but i cannot help but notice that you are a very miserable man running a very miserable kingdom. allow me to spark joy and spread whimsey :)"

and despite the king having a miserable kingdom for a reason, he is slightly enthralled by the idea... so, he accepts the poet's suggestion, though, that makes them basically his property

they don't really care because they're free!! (sort of.) and also he's paying them :) and if a king is paying them, then they must be getting a good deal of money right??? right! so they're happy as a clam!

meanwhile cross is standing there like 🧍 because this... this gay ass CREATURE is just... allowed to be happy in the land of misery? just bcs the king finds entertainment from them???? he's kinda salty...

anyway poet decides to flirt w him when theyre not being forced to entertain the king because he's the one who "got them the job" technically??? so they write sonnets and little songs for him to show their appreciation but theyre all lowk flirty cuz they think he's cute and they all fluster him

[ausaplenty]

Bouquet for sorrow and regret

A mix of AUs and characters

Asphodel to indicate your regret will follow you to the grave (Gilbert, Kiara - Betrayal AU)

Azalea for fragility in a difficult time (Kiara, Gilbert, Lilian - Soldier Poet King AU)

Snowdrop for consolation and hope of better days ahead (Ren, Jade - ATLA AU)

Rue for regret (Thomas, Violet - Pre-P14H)

Willow for mourning (Ren, Thomas - Red Hood AU)

Gilbert Mead, Kiara Scuro - Betrayal AU

Asphodel – regret that follows you to the grave

Kiara smiled tiredly at him from the back corner booth as he entered the Chinese restaurant, one hand on the stroller next to her.

Ren and Skye had texted earlier with their excuses.

<SPSRA mission out of state. Will see you next time>

<Big project due tomorrow. Sorry!>

The unofficial Team Awesome monthy reunions were nearing expiration, with Gilly and Kiara clinging on by their nails. They weren’t doing it for themselves, though, as much as they were trying to keep something alive.

Lilian.

He’d almost backed out today. Made up some excuse about research and apologized. At least with the other two absent, the bitterness wouldn’t be so quick to rise for the blonde.

Kiara blamed Ren and Skye for staying at SPSRA, after what happened to their best friend. For glossing over the false imprisonment and agonizing pain because SPSRA was the “greater good.”

“Tell me who they’re helping?” Kiara demanded, her lips twisted into a snarl as she glared at the other two.

“We’re helping people. The engineers are improving technology so we’re less reliant on the Basement and –“ Skye recoiled as the word spurred a hiss from the shadow walker.

Ren refused to cave under the weight of hostility. “It’s making a difference, Kiara, and Skye and Thomas and I are doing what we can to make sure what happened to Lily isn’t repeated.”

“It shouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

Gilbert was safe from Kiara’s rage, though he didn’t deserve it. The chip was his fault. His work had killed Lilian.  

“Hey Gilly,” Kiara greeted when he slid onto the scarlet vinyl seat across from her. “I ordered egg rolls for us already, I’m famished. And I ordered tea for you.”

“Thanks,” he said. He nodded toward the stroller. “How is she?”

Kiara’s smile should have been radiant, befitting a proud new mother, as she pulled  the blanket away from the carrier’s opening. The tiny baby with a mess of black curls slept in her seat, tiny squeaks escaping occasionally.

“LiLi would have loved her,” the shadow walker murmured. “With how much she loved kids? It would have been hard to pry Inali out of her arms.”

Gilbert’s heart twisted.

“I’m moving,” he blurted out awkwardly, resting his hands on the table. “T-There’s a company in San Diego that wants my help creating assistive devices.”

Kiara’s gloved hands covered his. He met her eyes.

“I get it.”

Kiara Scuro, Gilbert Mead, Lilian Moros - Soldier, Poet, King AU

Azalea – fragility during a difficult time

“Gilbert!” Kiara shouted between coughs as she stumbled through the masses. Her voice was lost in the barrage of screams and wails as the soldiers set fire to the huts and shacks that had barely sheltered the people of Beryn. “Gilly!”

The soldiers bore no symbols, a shield to protect the lord and his cronies from suspicions when he offered the village protection, but Kiara knew their purpose.

A mercenary barreled toward her atop a piebald stallion, the pike in his grasp aimed at her gut. The blonde snarled as she rolled out of his path, lashing out with a dark tendril. The shadow wrapped around his neck, cutting into his flesh before Kiara gave a vicious yank and severing the soldier’s head.

There will come a soldier, who carries a mighty sword. They will tear your city down

Somebody plowed into her, knocking her to the ground. She twisted in their grasp, wrestling her attacker beneath her with a blade to their throat. Angry brown eyes glared up at her.

A mousy-haired young man glared up at her, straining against Kiara’s thighs straddling his torso. “Bastards,” he spat. “We were fine before you and your friends got here, with your talk of free and fairness. I warned my lord -

Kiara growled, climbing off of him. “Get out,” she ordered. “The blame lies with your lord.”

She strode into the shadows, cursing to herself.

Her role in this ballad was plain. A weapon to be wielded as they severed the chains of slavery and oppression. And unfortunately, her companions knew their purpose too.

Lilian to find the tyrants, to glean as much information for their cause. Sometimes, their hearts could be swayed with words. She was the appeal, a chance for the villain to change their ways before Kiara gave them no alternative.

There will come a poet, whose weapon is their word. She will slay you with her tongue.

And Gilbert.

He was architect, laying the foundation for the people to rule and govern themselves.

There will come a ruler, whose brow is laid with thorn. Smeared with oil, like David’s brow.

“Kiara!” Gilbert’s voice pierced the chaos and the blonde sped up until she laid eyes on him. He was struggling against a chokehold, a thick arm cutting off his air supply.

She surged out of the darkness and lashed out with a razor-thin whip that cut into the mercenary’s arm.

The soldier grunted in surprise at the wound and her appearance, freeing her friend in his shock. “Move!” she barked.

A shadow swept out, knocking the attacker off his feet. The blond man obeyed, scrambling out of the way. The dark tentacle elongated and thickened, thrashing wildly with the mercenary in its grasp until he was a bloody pulp.

Freed, Gilbert ran toward a burning hut. He yelled something at her, the words lost in his coughs and the screams of somebody trapped inside the structure.

“- have to save them!” she caught.

Awareness dawned on her as she recognized the home’s position in the village.

The healer’s hut.

Gilbert slammed into the door, his shoulder shattering the wood. He inhaled deeply, sucking in as much clear air as he could before he went to cover his nose and mouth.

“Like hell you’re going in there,” Kiara snapped, trapping his foot with a shadow so he was tethered to the ground. She ran past him, a wave of darkness gathering over her in a dark shield. Burning thatch fell against it. Her eyes landed on the forms trapped on the other side of fiery pile of debris.

Not debris. Materials. Items piled there and set ablaze.

The soldiers had gone for the healer first.

Rage boiled inside her. She brought the shadow down on herself, rising into the darkness and emerging on the other side. A woman stared up at her, a toddler clutched in her arms as she shielded a third body.

Kiara threw herself on top of the trio, calling the shadows to her. They sank into the black, the blonde pulling them behind her out into the village. She grabbed Gilly and transported them to the woods.

The conscious woman shrieked as they emerged, pulling away from the shadow walker, and pressing the child to her chest. She sobbed as she saw the village in the distance, flames growing as the fields and huts burned, and she collapsed to the grounds, her wails and the toddler’s blending together.

Gilbert crouched beside the healer, his hands hovering fearfully over the warm, wet stain on her abdomen. “No no no no,” he cried. “Kiara –“

She pulled him to his feet and turned him away from the body to envelope him a hug. “We need to go, Gilly, LiLi is waiting.”

~*~

“I don’t know what happened,” Gilbert said, staring into the campfire. “Beryn wasn’t ready for that. We needed more time.”

Their work was tenuous, a precarious tower balancing on a few feeble stones. They worked in stages, careful to time each right so as not set the chain of events in motion too soon.

“Selene – she was my choice to lead,” he explained.

“She was a good choice,” Lilian agreed as she pressed a heel of bread into his hands. The man accepted it, but just turned it over in his hands. She glanced over at Kiara. “She was willing to challenge the lord before we arrived, just for the sickness spreading through the village because of the overwork and rotten food.”

The blonde woman nodded her understanding.

“I don’t know what happened,” Gilbert lamented.

“One of the villagers told the lord. He said as much before I found Gilly, when he blamed us for the soldiers attacking,” Kiara supplied. She prodded a burning log with a stick, shifting the pile so it collapsed in the center. “Mousy hair, ears too big for his head – sound familiar?”

“Jaren,” LiLi offered as she sat between them. “Idolized the guards, but was too scrawny to be one.”

The trio sat in silence, Gilbert leaning against Lilian in support.

She knew Gilbert was blaming himself. He wasn’t considering that the lord could have attacked the healer even if their trio hadn’t shown up, if Selene was prepared to stand up to the nobility. No, he was too caught in the moment, connecting his presence to her death.

“So the question is,” Kiara scowled, “Do we let this behavior go unpunished?”

 Ren, Jade – ATLA AU

Snowdrop - consolation and hope for better days ahead

“Here,” Jade said, pressing a warm bowl into Ren’s hands. She grinned when the air bender eyed it suspiciously. “It’s not sea prunes, I promise. Just broth.”

Ren took a sip, closing her eyes as she felt the warmth fill her.

“What happened after –“ she winced at the memory of the lightning strike, her entire body tensing instinctively.

“Thomas held Reed and Kiara off so I could escape with you. We heard reports that he was captured,” Jade answered, sitting back on her feet. She scowled, her eyes bright with fury. “The Fire Prince and Princess are returning to the Fire Nation while the ships converge on Ba Sing Se to –“

“Take control,” Ren growled, her grip tight around the bowl. “I forgot it fell.”

She failed.

Anger clenched at her chest, its claws painful around her heart. Her mouth tightened and she brought the soup to her lips to mask it.

Jade noticed with a frown. “It won’t last, Ren, we’ve still got the Day of the Black Sun and Jasper’s actually got a half decent plan that doesn’t require the Earth King’s armies.”

“What’s the plan?” Ren demanded, itching to rid herself of the heavy burden of failure. She set her bowl down and grabbed her glider, the wooden weight a familiar feeling in her hand. With a grunt, she pushed herself to her feet and leaned her body against the staff. “What do I need to do –“

“You need to lay down and rest,” the water bender ordered. “You’re so weak after the healing session, I could knock you over with one finger.”

The avatar glared at her as she eased herself down on to the mattress.

“I know it’s annoying and you’re exhausted and drained,” Jade sighed. “But there’s nothing you can do about it tonight and you’re not going to defeat anybody if you don’t give yourself time to heal.”

She cleaned up as Ren spread out on the bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.

 Thomas, Violet – Pre-P14H

Rue – regret

“Thomas?” somebody asked, shaking his shoulder.

The dream walker snapped out of the trance he was in, staring at the paperwork laid in front of him on tiny metal desk. Violet frowned at him, only taller because of the way the shoddy chair sank to the bottom of the supportive shaft.

“’M sorry,” he slurred, rubbing his eyes. “Dream walkers and their cat naps, you know how it goes.”

The council member squeezed his shoulder worryingly. “I do. I also know that wasn’t helpful in the slightest.”

He sighed.

If it were any of the other council members, he would doubt the sincerity of their questions. A dream walker who couldn’t sleep well enough was useless to them, just a body that didn’t serve its purpose.

“Vance Elliot’s resignation just became official,” Violent explained as she shook her head. “I know you were close with he and his sister, Thomas, and I’m wondering if you needed time.”

Vance hadn’t answered his calls. The times Thomas had sought him out had been met with hostility and rage.

Charlotte Elliot was dreamless. And out of the hospital she’d been sent to after the operation failed.

“There hasn’t been enough time, Violet,” he answered with a bitter chuckle. “Vance blames me. Even if I didn’t perform the surgery. Even if I fought against Lottie getting that kind of treatment. I’m the catalyst.”

If he had known SPSRA would use her as a test subject, would he have told the council about her? Would he have trusted Vance’s ability to contain her powers when the man was restless as a tumbleweed and itching to go on the next mission?

He shook his head.

“Take some time off, Thomas,” Violet urged. “Catch up on your sleep. Stop thinking about what could have been done differently. And when you get back, the paperwork for your promotion will be finalized.”

The dream walker stared at her as if she had two heads. “Promotion?”

“That’s right. The council decided you’ve shown potential,” the older woman informed him with a proud smile. “When you get back, we’ll put you in mentorship training and you’ll soon start working to recruit and train SPSRA’s heroes.”

Why?

A part of him – a voice that sounded like his former partner – wondered if this reward was for his silence. Don’t talk about Charlotte and the organization’s errors. Betray your friends for the ‘greater good’ and get a new title and status among the agency.

Or was this caution. He’d been vocal about the Council’s flaws. He hadn’t been on a retrieval mission since the operation, but could he go on another with the nagging thought that this target could be the next Charlotte Elliot?

He pushed it all down.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said with a tight smile. “I appreciate the trust.”

 Ren, Thomas – Red Hood AU

Willow – mourning

“We can’t find her.”

Ren stared at Morpheus’s office door, her fingers tight on the manilla folder and its contents.

She’s argued against this. Had told the Council that he wasn’t ready, hadn’t given up on Kiara – it was cruel to ask him to take on a new sidekick when he was still obsessively searching for his last one.

Two years is enough time to accept the person you’d promised to protect – and failed to do so – was dead.

She sighed and raised her fist to knock. “Thomas? It’s Ren,” she called. “I have – the Council an assignment.”

The dream walker didn’t answer and the shapeshifter hesitantly turned the knob.

And stepped into an empty office.

“Thomas?” Ren frowned at the lit desk lamp and the papers scattered around the desk. She could see the old photos they’d been sent of Kiara, her face bruised and her body bloody in a sterile white room. Her frowned deepened when she noticed the foot peeking around the corner. “Thomas …”

The redhead was stretched out on his back, his face screwed into a scowl as it did when his dreams weren’t yielding the results he wanted.

She pulled a chair to the corner and settled in to wait for him to wake on his own.

“You can’t find her?” Ren asked as she sat next to her mentor.

“He’d find some way to cut her off from me,” Thomas muttered, raking his hands through his hair. The bags under his eyes were heavy and dark, ironic for a man whose power required sleep. “A drug, another dream walker – he wouldn’t want to risk me ruining this for him.”

“So it’s not as if he’s just keeping her in the dark about where she is, he’s found a way to eliminate the risk of you completely.”

The thought sent a chill down her spine. Morpheus was one of the few things about SPSRA Ren had complete faith in. And somebody knew the faults in his powers.

The redhead wiped his eyes with the heal of his hand. “Vance always did think of everything.”

She opened the folder, analyzing the contents so she’d have ammunition against his arguments for why he couldn’t accept a new protegee and to convince herself of them herself.

Ren was part way through when Thomas stirred, a groan escaping his lips. She grabbed the water bottle off the desk and offered it to him as he sat up.

“Ren? What time is it?” He asked with a raspy voice. He took the bottle and drank thirstily, trying to fight how dry his mouth felt.

“Around 6,” the shapeshifter supplied. “Thomas, the Council held a meeting.”

“They have a lot of those,” Thomas said dryly, pulling himself to his feet. Palms spread on his desk, he scowled. “Anything worthwhile?”

His eyes narrowed on the folder when she laid it out open in front of him, focusing on the photo of the young woman in front of a lined wall and holding a plaque with a number.

“Thomas –“

“No.” He shoved the folder away. “I’m not taking another protegee. SPSRA policies specify a mentor can only have one –“

Ren closed her eyes.

“SPSRA has updated Inkling’s file. As far as the Council is concerned, Inkling is no longer MIA,” she told him stoically, trying to keep the fury out of her voice. She’d argued this as much as she protested assigning Thomas a new mentee, enraged by the cold bureaucracy of it.

“And what about Kiara? Or did they not care that she was – is more than a code name?” he hissed.

She met his eyes. “You better than any one know how the Council considers these decisions.”

Teacher was dead in the eyes of SPSRA too, despite Vance Elliot walking through Manhattan without a care in the world. But if they wanted to divorce themselves from any of his actions, the reports had to say the hero was dead.

How many disillusioned heroes were roaming the world, knowing that their accomplishments and victories no longer mattered since they’d left SPSRA.

“I’m not taking another student,” Thomas insisted.

“What if she needs you?” Ren retorted. “Thomas, this is her last chance.”

Lilian Moros was an alias, one of several SPSRA had noted, but her strikes carried through whatever name she used. If Thomas rejected this, she’d be inhibited and incarcerated.

“Then you mentor her,” the dream walker snapped, folding his arms across his chest. “Meta has enough sway in the community. Your reputation will protect her.”

“It will once. After that, her next mistake will be her last,” the brunette answered, pointing to the list of prior crimes. “Morpheus pioneered the mentor program, Thomas, you know every one – including her – deserves room to make errors.”

He bowed his head. “I need to find her, Ren.”

“I’m not asking you to give up on her, Thomas.” the shapeshifter put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m asking you to do the thing that you stay with SPSRA for … I’m asking you to help somebody.”

[elenamegi]

Reposting this here since I don't usually post Dp content on any other social media (and I'm afraid of TikTok removing the audio )

[inexplicifics]

I was just listening to a cover of Soldier, Poet, King, and I really like the way it fits eskel/jaskier/geralt! Eskel the soldier to defend, jaskier the poet who will slay you with his tongue, and Geralt the king, who probably does feel like any crown would be of thorns given how little he wants to rule while doing so well at it. Plus you know, the shipper in my liking how they're all listed together.

The fact that I had never heard that song before writing With a Conquering Air really is astonishing. It fits them awfully well!

[dustykneed]

i am attached to my daily posting streak to a worrying degree!! anyways the universe called and asked for stained glass mcspirk soldier poet king

i do have some character analysis for these actually but thatll be tomorrows post because im all tuckered out (also happy bday deforest kelley!!)

[nightowl1556]

🐱🧪🔥

[v-albion]

🗡️🪶👑

New Header Woo!

[cassius-erosennin]

incredibly frustrating to not be talented in anything arts-related so i cannot truly convey how much Soldier, Poet, King is Darrow, Roque, Cassius coded.

[hogwartsthenextgeneration]

Soldier, Poet or King?

Soldier - There will come a soldier, who carries a mighty sword. He will tear your city down.

* Lily

* Molly

* Dominique

* Roxanne

* Lorcan

Poet - There will come a poet, whose weapon is his word. He will slay you with his tongue.

* Teddy

* Albus

* Louis

* Hugo

* Lucy

* Fred

* Scorpius

* Alice

* Frank

* Lysander

King - There will come a ruler whose brow is laid in thorn, smeared with oil like David's boy.

* James

* Victoire

* Rose

[mists-reading-nook]

Styles of worship: The Poet

It is said to worship The Poet,one must Love.

The Poet is worshipped in the mind and heart. They are considered the God of intelligence and art. Those who worship them are ones who value their artistry and their knowledge. It is known that many bards give a song of worship to The Poet before they begin their performances. Dancers and singers,actors and intellectuals alike credit The Poet for their talents. Catalysts and bow users tend to worship The Poet.

Names and titles

The Poet is called by many names. Some of which include "The Heavenly Symphony" or "The Giver of Knowledge". Many also refer to them as "The Divine Art(s)".

Offerings

-Unlike The Soldier and The King,The Poet doesn't tend to get physical offerings. Offerings are often personal,and are given in the form of all types of art.

-It is highly encouraged to be creative when giving an offering to The Poet.

-Some make a piece of choreography,while some compose a song. Others may write a story,and still others may create a performance. Everyone has their own unique way of offering to The Poet,making each and every offering different and personal.

-The Poet doesn't have any particular regular holy services in their name,however they do have a couple of festivals that are held in their name.

-It is common for Actors to say things like "May The Divine arts lead you" before a show,a way of saying "Good luck".

-the same goes for singers and dancers.

-however, the intellectual side of their worshippers instead tend to give offerings through their intentions.

-Studies are often led with the intention of pleasing the Divine Gods with their studies,most of all The Poet.

- Many times,when you are reading a book,especially a fictional one,there is a page thanking The Poet for their gift,and for the success of the book

-Praying to The Poet for prosperity in one's projects is a common thing,and is encouraged quite a bit.

Those who worship the Poet

Venti,Nilou,Alhaitham,Kaveh,Baizhu,Layla,Barbara,Lisa,ect;

****

Anddd that's the poet!Poet!! (Coming soon: Guilt of the masses: Zhongli)

[delusional-mishaps]

"are you happy?"

the soldier jolts at the voice, looking up from his task.

"what?"

"are you happy?"

he's never seen the poet so... serious, before. they usually had a stupid grin on their face, and if they didn't, it was because they were concentrating on something. still, they'd have a tongue poking out of their lips, or some other silly expression. never had they been so... so... he couldn't think of any word other than 'serious'.

"what do you mean?" he asks. the poet sighs, frowning at him. frowning. the poet didn't frown.

"do you enjoy what you do? do you enjoy what the king orders of you?"

the soldier stares at the poet. why were they asking such a silly question?

"of course not," he scoffs. before the poet can speak, he clarifies, "the king doesn't like us to have positive emotion."

"i know that," they poet responds. "but why do you stay if you are unhappy? can you not leave? rumours speak the ruler of the neighbouring kingdom is very benevolent. he would accept you with open arms."

the soldier's fists clench. speaking of the neighbouring kingdom in such a way... he could have them arrested for that. the king didn't like the neighbouring kingdom.

"my loyalty is to king nightmare."

the poet's eyes are calculating as they look the soldier over. he shifts under their unusual gaze. he couldn't help but find them uncanny, in this moment, where they are acting so unlike themself.

though, is this truly unlike them? the soldier couldn't help but question what their true personality was like. of course, they were an entertainer. all entertainers had personas.

"why would you pledge loyalty to someone who would not do the same?"

the poet's question hangs heavily in the air.

he's aware the king would sacrifice nothing for him—though that was to be expected. he was a soldier. his job was to follow the king's orders, even if it meant ending in his death. he was nothing, compared to a king.

"i suggest you leave." his voice is hard. it is not a suggestion.

the poet doesn't fight. unlike how they entered the room, they leave noisily. his shoulders slump when they close the door behind them.

what a fool.

[protagonistkiller]

This haunts me

@whitneysangelic on TikTok for original video