#sorry oria looks different than the other

[aiikuraa]

Leviathan (attacker) coloured by me

[2af-afterdark]

He Who Was Called Mammon's Son - Day 1

Not a summary. Just random babbling about the event. I'm not saying anything official or even necessarily answering questions I bring up/pose. I just want to go off. Before I start... LOOK AT BABY MAMMON! He's so tiny! OMG! I cannot handle it!

Shall we start with the fact the Papa Mammon is fine as hell and is described like poetry? The man is beautiful and is so pure in his motives to protect and love his kingdom...

He's going to die. Sorry. But we all know he is going to be dead by the end of this event, right? This is the exact kind of event where they kill of a beloved parent in order to motivate the protagonist (Baby Mammon). They even evoked the Lion King by pulling that hilltop scene so Baby Mammon could understand the gravity of what he is about to inherit.

The difference is that Baby Mammon and Papa Mammon face their greed differently. They are both intrinsically led by the desire to protect and to have. Papa Mammon is mature enough to see the kingdom as his family and that he must keep it safe. Baby Mammon sees that Tartaros does not cover the entirety of Hell yet, so he must have more of it... so that he is able to protect more of Hell -- living and dead.

Even Papa Mammon recognizes Baby Mammon is greedier than he is in a way he he never could have imagined, making him the true king of Tartaros (which also means that kings are placeholders until the true one shows up).

*Side note: Are these technically names or titles? Papa Mammon is the king, but Baby Mammon hasn't gotten a name yet, I guess. He's just the Prince. Baby Bimet may not be Bimet either yet. I wonder if, in Tartaros, certains names are titles rather than birth names? Maybe that is true of multiple kingdoms. IDK because Amon was born with his name as far as I can tell, and he's the only devil we've seen before he became one of the 72. Well... Technically Leviathan and Orias too, but they were literally given numbers when they were prisoners of Heaven.

Baby Mammon is so adorable! He is a little puppy who needs extra care and attention because his body is so weak. However, this does raise the question of who is responsible for the underground lab in Tartaros. After all, I doubt Papa Mammon didn't know they were doing such experiments in his own land. The question is if he allowed it, ignored it, or... if it started after he was no longer around.

I wish, genuinely, that devils were able to distrust the way Older Bimet seems to. I can just feel how much heartache is about to happen because of Papa Mammon not sensing how malicious Metatron is. This is a clear example of double-speak. Metatron is making it clear that he shall kill Papa Mammon and take everything from him.

I think identifying that Metatron is (possibly) a former human is important. Humans can lie, deceive, and distrust like angels, but are also capable of acting within their own self-interests like devils. Metatron being a former human, not an angel created by God, would give him the drive, ability, and now power to covet and take for his own self-gain rather than invoking God's name. It also means we can't blame shitty programming for what he may or may not do like we can the other angels who were created with a one-track mind.

Valefor and Eligos are OLDER devils. They were clearly adults when Baby Mammon was still young. Guess that means we can add them to the list of devils who are definitely older than the kings (right next to Gusion).

[the-raging-tempest]

🍋: What is your OC's most painful memory? and 🍻: What's your OC's favourite comfort ritual? How do they calm themselves down after a rough day? for both Lariel and Zrise!

Hi Lau! Thank you for the question! Sorry it's taking me forever to get through these! I always be rambling. Too many words. But alas I am compelled to ramble on angst.

🍋: What is your OC's most painful memory?

For Lariel she holds quite a few painful memories in her heart. Though the most painful would be the fallout of Eithon's death. Due to the trance like state she was in when she lost control of her sorcerous powers she doesn't remember his actual death in anything other than flashes of sense memory. So most of what she remembers are the days following his death.

Looking out windows as the storm she called forth still raged. The burnt oak tree. Her family not even sending his body back to Kyonin. She isn't even sure what happened to his body. There was no funeral. The guilt of his death and then just how indifferent and unconcerned her family was about it. Seeing him very much as disposable.

It changed Lariel's life. His kindness and gentle nature, in such sharp contrast to her family's cruelty. Her most painful memory in specific is when she was in the estate chapel just praying and praying all night to Eithon's God (Sarenrae) in hopes she could undo this. Trade her life for his. Seeing herself as worthless and he as valuable. Obviously Sarenrae did not answer this call. Lariel spent so long in there without food, drink, rest, or warmth that she got very sick after that.

For Zrise I'll pick two.

One, his death and resurrection at the hands of his mother. The helplessness, the pain, the fear. That's the moment that is the most painful in the sense it wakes him from sleep. It keeps him from resting. That basic animal instinct it taps into. The feeling of drowning. Of not being safe around the one who was supposed to raise you. It is such a primal and instinctual pain. This memory 'haunts' him more actively.

Two, Oria and Relik's death. This is more a memory that haunts him in a different sense. He barely acknowledges them. Taking up his family's practice of pretending the past didn't happen and that people are disposable. He was tasked with making the events of that night disappear. But Zrise, as cold hearted as he can be, still cared for them. (Big factor for him) He didn't WANT them to die. Nor did he WANT to kill them. This memory is why he keeps his distance. It's why he pushes others away and closes himself off. Why he stays away from Lariel. Because he fundamentally believes he IS helpless to whatever he became that day he died.

🍻: What's your OC's favorite comfort ritual? How do they calm themselves down after a rough day?

Lariel is a reader! It's her favorite escapism tactic. So if she's had a rough day and there's nothing she can do. If she wants a distraction from fretting she will read something. Sometimes that's romance novels, an arcane tome, dry historical records. Really anything. That or writing in her journal. I imagine her journal is just full of thoughts and feelings she never outwardly expresses but just writes down to get out of her system.

Zrise doesn't really have a 'comfort ritual' the small routines he has for days are less a comfort and more a necessity in his mind. Unfortunately I think Zrise's go to 'comfort' after a rough day would be a hook up. He can just kind of disassociate for hour or so. Using this to just kind of get out of his own head. Similar to when he fights or trains.

[dont-tempt-me-frodo]

Supernatural AU

So I’ve been playing with this concept for a while now and have finally started writing short snippets. Throwing this out into the void to see what sticks basically. Might actually write this properly some day. Who knows. 

Notes for this au - Castiel is about but not nearly as present in Dean’s life as in the show. Other than that, it runs fairly close to the shows arc. Except when it doesn't. 

Notes for this short - set late season 4 (On The Head Of A Pin). Alastair who?

Enough waffling. Have a Dean/Orias snippet. TW: torture (but nothing too graphic) 

This was his fault.

Dean knew he shouldn’t feel guilty. Orias was a demon. A very powerful, relishes in chaos, maliciously evil, demon. He’d seen the carnage Orias left in his wake. Had to contain the aftermath of some of his more vicious kills. But over the last two years, since making the deal with him to save Sam’s life, Dean had gotten to know Orias a little.

They’d drank together in a bar once. When Dean was too exhausted, too tired of being lonely, desperate for some sort of company. The demon had a fantastic sense of humour that Dean couldn’t help but get swept up in, as well as a keen eye and could spot a hustler a million miles away which had led to Dean witnessing the best hustlers-being-hustled-at-pool he had ever seen.

Orias was very different to a lot of the demons Dean had encountered. And… he was handsome. Short brown hair that looked almost auburn in certain lights, clear blue eyes, a soft jawline. He didn’t want to admit it, but he actually felt... something when he was around Orias and for Dean, that was huge. Especially with everything going on at the moment, especially since... coming back from hell.

Orias had even helped them out on occasion, more out of spite for his own kind than any sort of loyalty or friendship towards Dean but the Winchester couldn’t knock that the demon has been invaluable. But then, Dean had accidentally led the angels to him and now Orias was strapped by his wrists to a rack in the middle of a very complex demon trap with Uriel bearing down on him. One of the angel’s hands clamped to the demon’s throat, burning the flesh underneath, the other was buried deep inside his chest, prodding around in his very essence. The scream that ripped from Orias as he struggled curdled Dean’s blood, and he did, he felt guilty. This was his fault.

Dean had point blank refused to torture Orias for information, so Uriel, with a gleam in his eyes, had been more than happy to step up.

Dean was standing in the corridor outside the room, deliberately not looking through the meshed window as Orias’ scream reverberated off the walls. The Winchester was trying not to remember the pain of an angel’s touch, his own burn scar on his arm tingling unpleasantly.

When an angel touches a pure demon, it leaves a mark. He knew that Orias wasn’t possessing some poor sod. His body was his own. He was stronger and more powerful than most demons and Dean still didn’t fully understand it, but at the moment it didn’t matter because he was at the mercy of Uriel and his attempts of resisting the angel were failing.

“Come on. Let go. Let me in,” Uriel twisted his hand inside Orias’ chest and the demon’s scream climbed an octave, “that’s it. Come on demon. Tell me what you know. Tell me about the last seal.”

Dean wasn’t entirely sure how long Urial tortured Orias. It could have been hours, could have been days. But eventually the strain became too much, the angel too powerful, the demon too exhausted, and Orias broke.

“Lilith!” he screeched, “Lilith breaks the last seal!”

Uriel let him go, removing both his hands and Orias slumped forwards with a shudder. The only thing keeping him up were the braces around his wrists.

Dean felt sick to the stomach.

The angel strode out of the room with a smirk, quirking a brow at Dean and leering at him as he sauntered past. The Winchester ignored Uriel’s comment, eyes firmly fixed on the demon trembling in the other room.

Dean stood there.... for a long time. Guilt churning his gut. And another feeling. One he couldn’t place. Burning away in his chest.

He took a long breath and forced himself into the room.

Orias flinched as the door clicked shut, his head snapping up, his blue eyes barely focusing on Dean’s face. He looked scared. And that twisted painfully in Dean’s stomach.

“Fuck off Dean,” Orias muttered, hanging his head again, his entire body shaking.

“I... I’m sorry. It... it wasn’t meant to be you.” Dean hated how pathetic that apology sounded, and the demon’s lip curled.

“Brilliant. Now I feel loads better.” Orias’ voice was thin and pained.

“Orias...” Dean approached rigidly, pausing at the edge of the demon trap chalked onto the floor. He could see the sweat rolling off Orias’ brow, the skin of his wrists rubbed raw by his bonds, the livid handprint burn that covered the left side of his neck with the thumb just above his Adam’s apple, the fingers coming up over his jaw and onto his lower cheek. The demon’s breathing was laboured and the shudders that rolled through him rattled the metal rack he was strapped to.

“You can’t trust them,” Orias grit out, lifting his head and fixing now black eyes on the Winchester, “the angels. You can’t trust them, Dean. They’ve been lying to you.”

“What are you talking about?” A cold crept down Dean’s spine.

“Sam is Lucifer’s vessel. Who do you think is Michael’s? Huh? The Michael Sword. Think about it,” Orias sneered, “Lucifer, younger brother to Michael. Sam, younger brother to you.”

The realisation hit Dean like a ton of bricks and his knees went weak. He grabbed onto the pipes lining the wall to catch himself.

He had absolutely no reason not to believe Orias. It had occurred to him a little while ago that the demon was the only person in his life who had never once lied to him or betrayed him. He knew he shouldn’t, but he’d found comfort in that. Yes, Orias was a soldier of hell, but Dean knew he could trust his word.

“I’m Michael’s vessel.” He ran a hand over his face, “It all... it makes sense now. Why the angels are so-”

He was cut off by Orias tugging at his shackles and whimpering in pain, trying to curl in on himself with his eyes squeezed tight shut.

“Please,” the demon sounded so broken, and it hurt, physically ached in Dean’s heart, “just leave me alone. Please just go.”

Dean turned to hurry back towards the door, stomach in knots, heart thundering in his chest but he slammed to a halt as Orias choked back another whimper and he spun to face the demon.

“I’m going to get you out of here. Don’t know how yet, but I’ll figure it out,” he promised, blazing green eyes meeting watery blue.

After a moment Orias barked out a laugh.

“I’ll hold you to that Deanie bean,” he forced a grin through another wave of pain, “you owe me that much at least.”

Dean gave him a nod, determination burning through him. No matter the consequences, he would get Orias somewhere safe because something deep in his soul was telling him that he needed this demon, and right now, Orias needed him. He didn’t understand it. Couldn’t comprehend it. But it was what he knew. And who was he if he were to ignore his gut?

I’ll get you out, he promised again silently, and he was starting to form a plan. He just had to hope luck was on his side.

[lightofthemagdalene]

So, Onna is Dead

(a record)

I got the ping from Amara while I was driving 3 days ago. I haven't written until now because it was very painful and stressful and I needed to process it, though I regret a little that I may have lost some of the details of her passing.

I've never been ping'd before. I didn't know I could be, but I recognized her when she called. How could I not? We shared a mind for 28 years. I went to the door she and Addison use to enter our headspace from their world in a panic, and was about to essentially try throwing myself into the ether without guide (because why would Amara need me?) when Orias showed up (she really can get anywhere, I didn't know she could be in my headspace) and grabbed my arm and said no I must never do that (especially not while driving) and to just close my inner eyes and follow her voice. I went into a kind of trance, my body drove me the rest of the way home without issue (though I will never choose to do that again) and slid into another headspace. I recognized it because it's not much different from her room in our old house. Very Amara. I could hear and feel her really clearly from there (an over-the-top fancy victorian gothic room in a cave/mound in a field of dark green tall grass under a purple sky oddly, I was expecting her house though she reminds me now that her house is more of a real place than a headspace would be).

Amara was panicking and sent me an image of where she was (at her house with Onna who was very ill) and said "It's time. I don't know what to do. Can you help me?"

Knowing her I understood.

"It's okay. It's okay that it's now. She doesn't look like she has much time left and it's okay, you've been here before. Say goodbye and let her go, hun, she's in pain."

"I know, I know, but..."

"We can't save her."

"That's not what I want! You know that! I want..."

"Don't tell me, tell her."

She took me with her as she focused back on her body. Onna was... Gods, she was awful. Her body withered and sunken and stinking of rot and pain, wrapped in parts of what was probably a beautiful dress. She always did dress well. Her legs and fingers were essentially only bone now, and her arms barely functioned. She was laying across Amara's lap on the floor in the sitting room. Amara had barely made it past the entryway with her body before she'd run out of energy and Onna had begun to run out of time. She'd wanted her to die in her bed, but this was as close as they'd gotten. Her eyes were still clear.

Onna's dark, glittering eyes still saw me, though.

"Hello there, kitten-sweet, did you come to say a helloandgoodbye?"

Her voice sounded like paper as she rasped out the old, old joke she knew I'd remember. I nodded, just then realizing that that was why I was really here. I moved my arm to hug at my waist, moving Amara's arm to do the same along with me. She leaned into the pressure, the best I could do at physical support through this odd separation we endure. When I nodded so did Amara, and Onna smiled.

"Thank you for taking her, I know she can be trouble." Her lips cracked and bled as she forced the weakening movements of her facial muscles into submission. Fighting everything including her own body until the last, as we'd expected.

"That's okay. She was good."

"Apologies for not making myself up for you, dear, you'll have to forgive me."

"That's okay, On."

"It was good to meet you, little traveler."

"It was good to see your light, sister."

"May yours remain lit, sister," she nodded.

I pulled back, my heart hurting too much to talk anymore.

Onna's breathing hitched and slowed and Amara's panic took over once again.

"Tell her," I reminded her softly.

“There is a world,” she choked, knowing it to be untrue but needing to pretend-- as we often did-- that it wasn't, “where we were never broken. Where your mother loved me and we grew together as equals. Where you never lied and we figured it all out. Where we found Jack and loved him as one. Where we loved each other in a way that didn’t burn the world down.” Her throat closed, and she fought the rush of panic that overtook her as Onna’s breathing shallowed and faltered.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t this world. I’m sorry I couldn’t fix it for you.”

Onna tried to speak, but the words didn't form. Only her low-ringing harmony sounded, but it was enough.

I forgive, I forgive, I mourn, I forgive.

The room stilled. Something exited.

“Goodbye, On.”

There was a massive amount of disorientation as Amara's panic set in. Odd that a few years in therapy alongside a human prison taught her some skills, but useful. We calmed down together without damaging her or the house. She screamed for a long time into the emptiness about their house.

While she keened I tended to the body, my movements a strange kind of spiritual muscle movement as I laid her out flat and pulled that green energy from somewhere and bid it cover the torn fabric and twisted flesh with a glamor (which: since when do I know how to do that?). Onna's cheeks filled out and I managed to twist her skirt enough to cover the worse of the disfigurements. I closed her eyes and settled her back into Amara's arms, reminding her of what would need to come next.

As she carried her back to the entry hall she looked mournfully back at the mosaic portraits of the two of them which domineered the back wall, framing the doors to the main hall with their regal, placid expressions of ownership. Onna looked as she was meant to look, a terrifying beauty that hurt if you looked at it for too long. I'd thought she only glowed in Amara's happier memories, but from what I've seen now she glowed even in images of her. Even in death. An inescapable point of light that genuinely burned once you became too aware of it.

"That'll have to come down now," Amara said out loud though it was directed to me.

"Only if you want it to."

She stood and stared for a long time.

"I want it to."

"Then it will have to come down."

"Later."

"Later, indeed."

She shouldered the front doors open and pushed through, squinting at the harsh light of the sun in her world. I didn't even take the time to experience being in another world, all I could do was hold onto Amara and feel the pain of the weight of Onna in our arms as she collapsed on the path at the front of the house.

Onna was horrible. A horrible, awful, terrifying menace to everything I love and value in any universe. She was hate and greed and pain and control and abuse in every possible horrific aspect of each word.

She was Amara's first love. Her whole entire world for most of her existence. She was-- at one point-- the best of what we can be. I have the memories of Amara's of every single little moment of goodness that she left in the world, and also the ones that should have warned Amara that she was slipping... But the fall came quietly, and Amara's vision cleared too late and there is nothing to do to change that.

She was a Sister of the Magdalene. Their sister. Their god. Their matriarch across millennia.

That is why they all came to say goodbye.

Tessa arrived first, Anya close behind her with her hand clasped tightly as they shoved through the remains of the cheering, victorious armies that had fought their fight home. Tessa called for silence and shamed them, for a death is nothing to celebrate to a Magdalene. Selena came next, riding the wind and already crying streaks of heavy tears before she pulled Tessa down to hold onto both Amara and the body that remained. She began the Keening, and Amara followed next. Maia arrived at a steady walk along with Kira, and both sank to their knees with the rest of the group to cradle the corpse. Jack came with Viv soon, and the group parted to allow him to settle at Amara's back and support her as she held the weight of the passing.

When Orias arrived Amara's Keens changed pitch. The true end was coming.

Even Orias-- who hated Onna more fiercely than any being in memory-- wept as she pulled Onna's soul from where it remained inside her sunken, hollow chest. The parts were separated in the family's tradition, and Onna's pains were offered to Amara.

"Do you want to remember these for her, Mother?"

Amara shook her head, which surprised me. I'd expected her to want the suffering, but she didn't. I'd never watched this far into my predictions of how this day would go, wanting this to remain private for her if she wanted it. Orias too considered eating the sins for which she'd suffered her entire life, but chose to let them go instead. She released the little ball of darkness from the tips of her gauntlet-talons and it faded into the air as if it never was, to be forgotten by time itself as the world healed. Onna's body broke down, crumbling into flakes of paper-like petals that drifted away on the breeze, over the house's wall and off toward the garden. Off home.

That's where I left them. Amara followed later, needing somewhere away from the family where she wouldn't just get high or drunk or hurt herself in her anger. I'm so proud of her for knowing not to just lock herself in her house alone with a pile of opioids and rot.

She'll be okay. They'll all be okay.

Sometimes it's time to say goodbye.

The memory of two little girls laying on the sand looking at the stars and planning their lives still lives in me. It still lives in Amara. It's what we have left of who Onna could have been. It's not enough. Gods' truth, it's not enough... but it's what we have, and that's okay.

Sometimes only the small things remain.

[kinsbin]

As I Walked Through the Woods

Title: As I Walked Through the Woods Ship: Orais/Alexys/Cyril [Self Insert/OCs] Word Count: 2094

Summary: Alexys, C, and Orais travel back home to Eden’s Gate. When Alexys gets hurt along the way, the two men choose to put aside their differences and make sure to help her. 

A/N: Another comm for @space-sweetheart with my two OCs!!! They’re so in love with her its ridiculous and I hope all three of them stay HAPPY AND GOOD ;3;!!!

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The forest was quiet. The echo of the group’s footsteps was dramatic against the nothingness and the soft breeze that accompanied their walk. Alexys felt the dry air sting at her lungs as she inhaled, looking up to admire the scenery of the towering pines around her. It smelled like mulch and baking stone, clay under the heat of the morning hardening against the banks of rivers and an endless curl of bark against its treetops. The forest always felt so magical like this, she decided with a quirk of her lips as she admired a little while longer, powerful and old and filled to the brim with secrets she knew it would take to its grave. To be one with this forest would be something unique, she decided. Maybe if she ever died she would be able to be buried here. To let her body mold with the mulch. She imagined roots curling in her bones and sighed shakily, as if she could feel them on her lungs as her shoe dug a little deeper into the earth below her with a smile.

“We’re going the wrong way.”

“No we’re not. We always go this way!”

“No, we always follow the SUN, which is THAT WAY. I’m telling you, it’s WRONG.”

“YOU’RE WRONG!”

The sound of her boyfriend’s arguing behind her boomed across the landscape, subsequently shattering the quiet around them as they yelled their opinions at one another. Alexys took in a deep breath, allowing it to escape from her lips in the form of a sigh as she adjusted the coat on her body and turned around to face the other two with a raised eyebrow painted on her face.

Cyril’s mask was on, his muffled voice displaying only slight frustration behind its normally monotone presence outside of his preaching. Still, Alexys could practically feel the glare radiating from behind it. She had gotten good at reading the assassin. His body language spoke wonders where his words failed and she could tell he was TENSE. The way his shoulders hunched against him, the clutch of his gun between his white knuckles fingertips as he shook in an effort to control himself in front of her was something impressive. Against the side of his scarred cheek that showed itself away from the mask, the muscles of his clenched teeth could be shown. Outlines of bone on pale flesh as he stared forward at the figure in front of him.

Orais had actually decided to wear a shirt today, the tank top riding low and exposing the pale flesh of his torso just a little despite it. A near hour of her begging and gazing up at him with worry had made him finally relent to the outfit of a shirt and pants and combat boots, holstered along his belt with a knife and gun though he didn’t need them. Eden’s Gate made it a point to keep their members armed and manageable at all times. Whether or not Orais was an actual member of the cult or not, however, remained to be seen. Still, though he complained that he didn’t get cold or need to wear anything in defense against the Earth’s natural elements, he did look hot. The tank top defined the lines of his arms as they curved into obvious musculature. She only half missed the impressive set of abs he was hiding underneath his broad form, but the other half knew that he would get tired of the shirt and take it off eventually.

If he didn’t kill C, first.

“Babe, tell him we’re going the right way. I’m right, right?” Orai’s turned his head to face Alexys with an incredulous look plastered across his face. The way he gazed made his scars stretch out, the shift of the disfigured skin a cute wrinkle on his chin as he waved his hand at C, who stared placidly back at him with his hidden expression.

Alexys bit her lip as she looked around the forest. She hated getting involved in their debates too much. Choosing sides was never what she was about in the middle of their relationship. She was an anchor to them (or so they said). A tie to a world that kept them manageable and together despite the fact that they would rather die than travel like this. Choosing a side in any scenario would never make the other rhappy and, thus, she was content to keep her mouth quiet most of the time. This time, however, she felt the words fall from her lips despite herself.

“I think,” She spoke carefully, “We should probably make a camp or something if we’re gonna be out here for the rest of the night. You remember Jacob’s stories about this place, don’t you? We could get eaten… Or eat each other.”

“If we eat each other,” C spoke lightly, “I vote we eat Orais first.”

“Jokes on you,” Orais sneered, “I’d be able to eat you first. That’s the one fucking speciality I might have over you.”

“Oh, so you admit you don’t have any others?”

Orais’ growled, a sound that reverberated against his chest and pulled itself from his throat in the most inhuman way possible. Its noise sent birds fleeing the cover of bushes as they screamed their shocked caws. Animals rustled under the cover of underbrush to run away. It was a momentary cacophony of sounds that sent Alexys whirling in surprise before she stepped back, blinking into the sky around them before her foot caught on something. She gasped as she felt it slip back behind her, her body twisting an unusual angle and sending a pain through her ankle before pushing her down with gravity.

“Shit-!” She cursed out loud as her back hit the mulch of the earth, the grunt leaving her voice flittering into a pained whimper.

C and Orais were by her side in an instant. Hands touched her body, keeping her steady as they helped her off of her back and onto her butt, where she readjusted herself. She sound of C’s mask being discarded echoed, a clatter to the forest floor as his cold eyes gazed across her body.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” His tone was a desperate, genuine worry that filled her stomach with warmth and pain to hear as Orais’ hands gripped her cheeks and made her face him as his cold red eyes gazed into hers, checking for any signs of internal damage or a concussion.

“Woah, Babydoll,” Orais laughed, all teeth as he smirked, “I know I said that I loved it when you fell for me but I didn’t mean it like that.”

Alexys laughed despite the pain as she winced and tried to move her ankle, feeling a swollen punch hit her and make her stop breathing for a moment.

“Don’t make jokes at a time like this,” C’s voice was muffled under his face mask and his glare was sharp at the other, scarred face and brows now visible to show just how angry he was, “She’s hurt because of you!”

“Me?” Orais snarled back, “If you had just listened to me and we had gone the direction I said we wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with! You’re such a fucking bitch sometimes I swear to-.”

“Guyssss, don’t argue.” Alexys groaned as she reached up and pat Orias’ shoulder gently, shifting arms to pat C in the same way, “I just fell wrong and sprained my ankle a bit, I’ll be okay once I get some rest.”

“That depends on us getting back first.” Orais laughed bitingly, eyes angled towards C in a glare as he frowned, “What do you think then, Jesus Boy?”

Alexys, though she did not approve of the nickname, was grateful for Orais’ question. A question from him meant that he was going to listen to your opinion. It meant that he was willing to hear C out for once in their relationship and, to her, that was something far better than she could have expected. Even C seemed surprise, his eyes widening slightly before narrowing his brows again as he thought of an answer.

Slowly his arms extended from Alexys’ shoulders and down her body, finding her hurt ankle between his hands and slowly leaning down to push the end of her jeans up. She winced as the material rode up on the sensitive flesh. C paid careful attention to her movements, wincing whenever she whimpered or tensed and uttering a soft ‘sorry’ to her until he could finally expose enough of the ankle to examine it. It was already starting to bruise, the hot red muscle bulging in comparison to the other. It looked twice as bad as it felt and, Alexys worried, it hopefully wasn’t more than the sprain she had thought.

“She’s not going anywhere on this,” C stated with a sigh, “If you put any pressure on it, it’ll only make it worse.”

“Want me to kiss it better?” Orais’ saw was upturned in a smirk as he leaned forward. Before Alexys could say anything his lips found hers, a hot and rough kiss consuming her soul as his growls and chuffs of pleasure coursed through her mouth. Orais’ kisses were always like this. Hot and sweet and filled with all of him. It was all or nothing in his entire being and he mimicked it perfectly in the way he kissed her. For, to him, she was his everything. The thought sent a blush spreading on her cheeks like a wildfire as Orais pulled away, that curved smirk against his scarred face glimmering in the daylight.

A hand reached out, C’s fingertips finding Orais’ face and shoving him backwards as hard as he could. Orais grunted and laughed through it, grinning wider, “What’s up, Jesus Boy? You jealous?”

“I’m annoyed,” C’s voice was short with anger, “That you’re wasting our time like this when we could be walking back to base by now.”

“Oh so kissing her’s a waste of time now?” Orais snorted, “‘Sides you said so yourself, right? She can’t walk at all! What are we gonna do?”

There was a stony silence and Alexys swore she could FEEL Cyril’s smirk under his mask. Reaching for the discarded full face mask, he tucked it on his belt before re-adjusting himself. She barely had any chance to ask what he was doing before she was scooped up, bridal style, and held close to his chest.

His body was warm. Under the coat he wore as his outer layer, she could feel his heat radiating across his chest as his heart beat thrummed underneath him. The fur on his collar’s trim tickled her face, little licks of fuzz biting at her eyelashes and making her smile as they tickled her. There was a shake of his chest to indicate that he, too, had laughed at her own smile. When she looked up, his eyes were staring down at her. Icy blue orbs with brows knitted together with such affection that she felt isolated under them. That she felt like she was the only one in that gaze of his that meant anything. She blushed despite herself and looked down at the ground below her, remembering how tall Cyril truly was.

He was strong, too. It wasn’t the first time he had carried her like this but each time was a surprise as she dangled her legs from his arms. Her fingers found the front of his jacket, where they curled up into the fabric to create an easier hold on something, in case she did fall off for any particular reason. She knew, deep in her heart though, that C wouldn’t drop her. He would never let her go.

Behind them, Orai’s snorted.

“You’re a fucking show off, ain’t you?” He sneered at the other man, “If you get tired, I’m always happy to take my turn carrying our little princess~.”

“Shut up.” Cyril snarked back as he began walking, the movement careful as he adjusted her in his arms and whispered softly into her ear, “You can rest now. When you wake up, I’ll have you home.”

And then a form appeared at her side, his lips finding the top of her head with a laugh as Orais hummed, “WE’LL have you home.”

Alexys shut her eyes and smiled, snuggling further into the arms of the men she knew she was safest with.

Around her, the forest sang its song of silent appreciation as they walked on.

[oria-eska-misfits]

Misfits Chapter 2 Rough Draft

Art of Oria and Eska, the two heroines from my story Misfits, done by @cherryvunilla Vunilla on deviantart. See the original post here.

Once again I want to point out that this is an extremely rough draft. Much has changed and some scenes don’t even exist anymore. This is the last chapter I wrote the first time I tried to write this story and it’s unfinished too. I’ve since rewritten it from scratch. However, I wanted to share it anyway in case it sparks anybody’s interest and gets them interested in this tale that I’m trying to tell. Enjoy!

Synopsis | Chapter One

Oria awoke to a maid opening her blinds. The light from the street lights flowed in and lit the room a warm yellow.

Oria sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes with one hand.

               "Good morning miss. I've laid out a clean outfit for you," she said gesturing to the end of the bed.

A very fancy dress, much like the one Isbeil had worn the day before laid before her. It was white however and did not have a high stiff collar. Oria felt the fabric in her hands. It was so soft.

The maid helped Oria slip into the dress with ease and she put on a pair of white silk dress shoes.

               "We're washing the clothes you came in now."

Oria looked in the mirror and tied her hair to one side with a bow. She was amazed at how pretty she felt.

The maid led her to the dining room. As the approached she could hear Isbeil and Abhi speaking in in a tongue that she did not understand but recognized as Hindi.

As she entered the room she saw them sitting at a long dinning table. Abhi sat at the head of the table and Isbeil on his right hand side.

               "Ah, good morning Oria," Abhi greeted.

               "Good Morning," Oria greated.

Oria moved to the seat across from Isbeil and lifted her dress, careful not to sit on her bustle, as she sat.

               "This is a nice spread," Oria said eyeing the spread out in front, "I don't recognize any of these fruits though."

               "Try these, they taste like strawberries," Abhi said passing a tray of small orangy green fruits to her.

               "He's always going on about strawberries," Isbeil said as Oria accepted a few, "I think the reason he's most excited about us having contact with earth again, is that he'll be able to have all the foods that he grew up with.

               "Hush, you have no idea what you're missing dear. Tell her Oria."

               "Yeah, they're pretty delicious," Oria smiled endearingly.

Eska entered the room wearing a dress shirt, dress pants and a pair of brown boots.

               "Good morning sleeping beauty," Isbeil said.

               "Only because I get to see your face," Eska winked and plunked herself in the seat beside Isbeil.

               "Flatterer."

               "So Oria," Abhi began, "Now that we've all had some rest, tell me, what has happened on earth since we severed contact?"

               "Um well... it was 100 years ago during the second world war, right?"

               "Right."

               "When exactly did you loose contact?"

               "Right after they dropped them bomb on Hiroshima."

               "Okay, well, they dropped another one before the war was over. The allied forces won. There's no longer a royal line in Japan. They're a democracy now. Germany had it's army taken away for a while.

"A couple years later there was the cold war between the U.S and Russia. Everyone was afraid they'd nuke each other that the sky would be fill up with ash and dust. That never happened though.

               "Um, when I was 7 terrorists crashed two planes into the world trade center towers. A bunch of people died and they had to evacuate New York for a while. Then they sent a bunch of troops to the middle east and they're still fighting those wars unfortunately.

               "Other than that, cars have gotten faster, we put a man on the moon, a rover on mars and I think we even have a satelite outside of the solar system too.

               "Um... what else...? I think I'm blanking now sorry. Oh, and global warming! The atmosphere is warming up because of all the carbon emissions from cars and power plants and stuff. It's effecting the enviroment and all these different species are just dying off. There have been heat waves that kill tons of people, I think there was a sea that dried up too and it's putting a hole in the ozone layer."

               "That's insane. How is that possible? How do people allow that to continure?" Isbeil exclaimed.

               "I- I guess people are just too comfortable to care, or at least do anything about it," Oria replied.

               "I see that things still haven't calmed down," Abhi cut in, "Humanity has always been a passionate and fearsome race. Thank you dear for enlightening us. It was all very fascinating. Sometimes it doesn't feel like I've been away for that long at all, " he reminisced, "But so much has happened on both sides. Having you here is like having a little piece of home."

Oria's heart warmed a little.

               "Thank you. I'm glad."

               "Now my dear, would you tell us more of the reason why you're here."

Oria took a deep breath.

               "It's my mother," she began, "She has terminal lung cancer. The doctor has given her little more than a year to live."

               "That's quite serious," Abhi said solemnly.

Oria nodded and leaned forward.

               "But Eska's Uncle tells me that it's possible to cure her. It's just-"

               "The problem of getting her here," Abhi finished for her.

               "Yes, and I thought, since you were originally from earth, maybe you would have some experience with these kinds of things. That maybe you could help me."

Oria was speaking so fast but stopped when Abhi put his hand up and took hers.

               "Oria, I will help you in anyway I can," he said sincerely.

Oria smiled.

               "Thank you," she said with gratitude.

He let go of her hand.

               "We'll need to go to immigrations in the home world. Yours is a speccial case so I think things will go well. However, I don't want you to get your homes up too high. Home world is very by the book. We'll need very good lawyers to get you through the loop holes."

               "Lawyers?" Oria asked.

               "Oh yes, we're going to have to go through many court cases and get on the good side of many of politicians. Lucky for you I've already got that covered," he winked.

They finished breakfast and then prepared to depart. Isbeil helped Oria pick out a decorative sun hat, that had sashed that came down the side and tied under her chin, and a pair of white satin gloves that went up past her elbows. She also gave her a small coin purse which Oria put her phone, I.D, and some of her makeup in.

As Isbeil helped her accessorize they smiled and laughed and joked. Isbeil kept telling her how pretty she was and how much the clothes suited her. Oria felt really relaxed around her. Like they had been friends for years. But she guessed she was just on of those kinds of people.

When they got outside a carriage was waiting there. Eska was wearing a long trench coat that she left open. To her right Abhi looked very dapper in knee high boots and a long dark coat. He held the door open while the girls entered and followed them in. He signalled to the driver and they were on their way.

They drove slowly down the hill. At the bottom, rather than turning left or right, they did a 180 and turned into a small tunnel that Oria had not noticed the day before. Lanterns hung at the sides. THey lit the place up with yellow flickering light.

They were in the tunnel for no more than a minute when it let out into another part of the portal world. The houses there were still nice. Women of lower status walked the streets selling flowers, bread, milk and other goods.

They made their way down the street at a decent pace. Eventually they turned and began makinf their way to the closest wall of the cavern. Finally they made it to a slightly larger cave.

This one was lined with nicer, more advance lights. Oria didn't recognize the make but they almost looked fluorescent.

The tunnel was also lined with video frames that showed many sorts of ads for products that were unrecognizable and alien to her. As they moved down the tunnel suddenly the road was glassy looking and lit a pale green. It was transparent and showed lit blue wires like a microchip. It reminded her of Tron.

Soon the tunnel began to brighten as the pale glow of sunlight began to mix with the florescent lighting. Soon they exited the tunnel and Oria practically cried out when they were left hanging in mid air. However they did not fall and continued to hover as the carriage moved forward. Oria looked out the window at the wheels and saw that the air glowed green below them. She soon realized that the road was not gone but had just become transparent. She could tell it was still their by the slight sheen of light bouncing off of it.

She looked down and saw a grand city looming far below them. It was silver and white and far more advanced than any she had seen on earth. Vehicles flew through the air and more vehicles lined transparent roads below her.

               "Amazing," she breathed, too awestruck to say more.

Eska smiled over at her and Isbeil smirked.

They descended downwards slightly and soon came upon a moving platform. It took them down past the top of the highest buildings and soon Oria could measure their height in the amount of floors they went down. She counted 80 under her breath and still they were so high up in the sky. The buildings were enormous and impossibly wide to boot.

When they got off the moving platform they exited the carriage and got on to one of the flying vehicles that was waiting for them there. They took off into the sky and Oria white knuckled the seat.

She had flown once before in the helicopter that had taken her to the Toronto hospital after one bad self injury session she had when she was younger. She still remembered how her cheek stung and the pain in her mothers eyes after they had stitched her up and stabilized her. She had never done it again.

Soon the landed on a platform in front of the tallest building in the city. It was attached 10 stories down from the top of the building.

               "This is where the council is," Isbeil began, "Immigrations is located here too a few floors down."

They stepped out of the vehicle onto the shiny white floor. It pulsed bright like where her feet applied pressure. She almost felt like she was in heaven.

They walked towards the building though the beautiful park and garden that surrounded them. There was a sitting area and a fountain and even a playground that had been taken over by small children from races she had yet to know.

The walked through large grand glass like doors that needn't part but one could simply phase through. The technological advancements stunned Oria. She hadn't the words to describe the complete awe she was feeling.

The room that they were in had a high ceiling like a stadium and many booths lined that walls that could be reached by more floating platforms. A long line trailed from a large reception desk at the front of the room.

They walked past all this and reached a grand staircase in the center of the room. The descended and walked down a long hallway along the side of the building that was lined with a large window that spanned the length of it. At the end they reached an elevator that spanned the length of a full room. They went down 20 floors and exited into a smaller but no less grand room than the one before.

They were greeted by a woman in full business attire there.

               "Welcome Sir Rana. What can I help you with today?"

               "Immigrations business," he replied, "I'd like to speak with Vito if at all possible."

               "Certainly Sir, right this way," she lead them down a hallway and spoke on an ear piece as she did.

               "He's just finishing a meeting right now, he'll be with you shortly," she said as they approached their destination, a small waiting room.

               "If you would please take a seat," she said gesturing to the couches and coffee table.

               "Thank you," Abhi said.

She bowed slightly. She left for a minute and returned with a tray of tea. She place tea cups and saucers down in front of them all. She served them all tea and bowed again before leaving.

They waited no more than five minutes before Vito entered the room with his personal assistant. They were both the same kind of humanoid creature as Jules and the woman in the painting back at the mansion.

Abhi and Isbeil rose so Oria did too. Slowly Eska did as well. It was apparent that she didn't care for the mannerisms of the high class.

               "Good to see you again friend," Vito said as he shook Abhi's hand.

               "And it's good to see you."

Isbeil stepped forward.

               "Hello Vito," she said grasping his hand, "These are my friends Eska and Oria," she gestured to the pair.

               "Nice to meet you both," he nodded first shaking Eska's hand and then Oria's.

"So Abhi, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Vito asked. "It's a matter of great import," he replied.

And that’s all I wrote of Chapter 2! I hope you enjoyed. Here are some bits that I had on the end of the file that I wrote down that happen later in the story.  

About him paying a lot to fast track her case- "My dear, I have so much money, I don't know what to do with it all." (When she thanks him)

 "This is my idiot brother" "Is that any way to treat your older brother?" "By five minutes." "And I'll never let you forget it!" "Isn't that my line?

 "These are my best friends," Oria said showing her a picture on her phone, "Jamal, Peter and Nina. I go to school with Jamal and Nina, and I met Peter at ballet lessons when we were little.

“Who’s that?” Eska asked as she scrolled past a picture of her ex.

“Oh- that’s Hwan.”

Eska seemed to notice the briskness of her answer and side-glanced at her as she continued to go through pictures.

“And these are my three little cousins Cara, Steebeth and Vea.”

“Aw they’re adorable little runts.”

Oria chuckled.

  "Tell me something that I don't know about you" "I sang in a choir when I was a child." "Really? I can't see you doing that" "I'm full of surprises" "Sing me something," Oria requested. Eska tucked a strand of hair behind Oria's ear. "Are you going to Scarborough FairParsley, sage, rosemary and thyme Remember me to one who lives thereShe once was a true love of mine....."

Scarborough Fair is just a placeholder song until I can think of some lyrics of my own.

My Main Tumblr | Buy me a coffee

[the-raging-tempest]

eros #5 + agape #5 for lariel, storge #5 + philautia #4 for zrise, and storge #3 + eros #3 for anton !!! :]

Ferne! Once again I must apologize for being late. I got sick like right after posted that ask game. Also oh god this is so long. Sorry to anyone who reads this hahah Hopefully y'all can forgive some spelling mistakes I still have the sick brain a bit Agape number five for Lariel here!

Lariel

How closely is their opinion of their own beauty (or lack thereof) linked to their confidence? Do they see themselves as more or less worthy of love or sex based on how attractive they feel?

Lariel doesn’t really have experience with the outside world until she leaves her family. And all the comparisons they made towards her and her brother were unsavory. They are the equivalent of elven conservatives. Which is to say. They don’t really care about races with a short live span.

Elves in pathfinder also just look very alien and different than humans in a lot of ways. So when Lariel was compared to elves she was found very lacking.

The only outsider she really knew was Venan and he was the type to tell her whatever he thought would make her more dependent on him. Which was usually negging.

This… is hard to describe but Lariel doesn’t really see her appearance as being what makes her unworthy. She believes she will probably not experience love, but not because of her looks. Especially once she leaves her family and realizes half-elves are actually extremely common. She isn’t one to see value in herself. But also she doesn’t really put much stake in others ‘attractiveness’ either. She is much more drawn in by personality. Sounds silly but, she basically can find anyone beautiful. (Besides herself) And she is the type to associate love and sex completely. So she doesn’t even really consider having sex (outside of the abstract notion) until she meets someone she starts falling for.

Zrise

Is your OC able to love without necessarily needing or expecting reciprocation or reward? Or are all their relationships to some extent transactional? Have they ever loved another person unconditionally, whether a child or another adult?

This is such an… interesting question for Zrise. Damn. How to put into words. Loving without expecting anything in return is the only way he knows how to love.

He does not open himself up to love. Falling in love usually happens to him against his will. Fighting tooth and nail for it to not be true. Or in the case of familial love it's been there for so long he isn't sure when it began. It seems like a contradiction. But this is WHY he doesn't want to love. It's hard to keep yourself safe if you can't help but throw yourself at the feet of whoever you love, especially when it's never been returned and only used against you.

That being said, his current relationship philosophy is completely transactional. He does his mother's bidding, in hopes he will be worthy of her love. Believing on some level he never will.

His causal relationships, hook ups, alliances, etc. Those are always transitional. That's how Calistria likes it. You must always get something out of it. Money, information, power, a favor, etc. It's how he was taught to view himself and others. You don’t risk your heart in relationships, sex, etc.

He has loved unconditionally. I will say, this is where the line blurs. Love is… not a static thing. So yes, at one point Zrise loved his mother and Oria unconditionally. Though that love eroded away. That love by it's very function became conditional. Slowly. After repeated reminders that THEIR love for HIM was conditional. As long as he did as they desired, he was 'loved'. As long as he does as the Goddess commands, he has divine magic.

When he loves, he is willing to carve out so much of himself. Make so much room. Leave himself hollow. Destroy most of himself. Believing that he MUST in order to be loved in return. That no one could see him and love whoever he is deep down.

Which of your OC's qualities makes them the most proud? Do they think more people should be like them in this regard? Or do they quite like being rare in possessing it?

Damn. Another one that… hits one of the core contractions that rules Zrise. He doesn't have TRUE pride. Most things Zrise feels or shows 'pride' for… is a type of cynicism. Zrise is… the kind of guy that the more he feels he has to prove something the more he… projects. The more he pushes out the energy he WISHES were true. What he wants others to believe about him.

He talks a big game about how he's 'honest' because he is dishonest. That he doesn't 'pretend', that relationships aren't just about using others and tossing them aside. Even though deep down he says this because he resents it. He hates it. Because he feels used and tossed aside. And thus hates himself. Seeing himself as a fool. A fool who deep down wants things that are not 'true' about the world. That HE'S the idiot who believed in love and kindness and joy. But now he 'knows better'. NOW he acts very 'proud' that he knows the world is a cruel and terrible place. That kindness is manipulation. That love is a farce.

He's a strange guy. He deeply hates himself… He hates looking at anyone that reminds him of a younger, lighter, happier, more hopeful version of himself. He hates anyone that reminds him of himself now. Cynical and cruel. The only people he admires and thinks have it 'figured out' are the people who don't seem bothered or are 'winning'. Because man… he'd love to be both winning and unburdened. (Thus why in my mind his trickster ending is his worst…)

He does not think he is rare in being jaded. And strangely he sees trying to tear others down in some ways as a… lesser evil. He tries his best to come across as indifferent to the world. Because being hurt… even if you now know better… means you lost something. Being invested means risking something…

Anton

How far does parental approval (imagined or expressed) impact upon their current sense of self-worth? What might they sacrifice or attempt to achieve in order to ensure the approval of their parents?

Anton is so different from the twins. I hope I can explain him haha.

He is at most wary of his mother's disapproval. If he were to do something that he suspected she would disapprove of, he would still do it, but keep it hidden. From everyone. Not out of shame or fear of judgment. Mostly because he doesn't want to bother others. What she thinks of him is important to him, but to him it's more guidance than anything else. There really isn't much he would sacrifice to get her approval. He never really felt he did or did not have her approval. Her suggestions are vague and hard to know if he's followed or not. The internal version of his mother's voice in his head is less judgement and more advice.

Anton never deeply cared about his father's approval. He thought of his father's opinion like the color of the wall. It could be observed and that is all. He doesn't think about him now that he's dead.

How do they feel about public displays of romantic affection? Does it make them uncomfortable? How do they feel if a romantic partner kisses them in public?

He is mostly private in expressing his own emotions, but he does not have complex thoughts on public displays of affection. His low key attitude works to his benefit there. He would enjoy receiving it, but it would not occur to him. He won't shy away or turn it down, but it is not where his mind is at. His sense of what is public is very lax. Basically public is 'I should wear clothes' but other than that his boundaries between public and private are thin.