#the doomed lightning shard

[tallbluelady]

New Blorbo Alert!

Lucky Apple, alchemist of some renown on the Twelfth Shard of Etheirys. As powerful lightning storms rend the very land asunder, Apple spends her days wandering and trying to purify what little fresh water is left, all with a cheery attitude and a smile on her face. With the uncanny ability to see the souls of the departed, she is recruited by a Mr. Selch from the city of Eutopia to investigate means of transporting souls from one locale to another. Unaware of the consequences of such a thing, she gladly helps him with his task, and even helps others in the city with their experiments and discoveries. After it is revealed that Mr. Selch is actively seeking the destruction of her world, Apple feels so betrayed that she leaves Eutopia to focus on what good she can do elsewhere.

Though she has made peace with the fact that her world is ending, Apple still seeks to ease the pain of others for as long as she can draw breath. After all, why would she waste her time feeling sorry for herself when she can smile instead?

[lilbittymonster]

Did the happiness chart from Gallus and I guess this is also an informal OC introduction of sorts? I guess? Anyways here's the current lineup of blorbos

[hermits-hovel]

I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily - how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

[doomedlightningshard]

putting this beneath a cut because BODY HORROR but uwu (moren belongs to @azure-dragonsinger and the quotes are from Bride of Frankenstein but uh. shifted a bit)

Is there any life yet?

No. Not life itself yet. The pulse only responds when the aether is applied. We must be patient. The human heart is more complex than any other part of the body.

[yloiseconeillants]

FEBHYURARY 2024 :: Day 8 - Crossover

What lovely music for a murder… or two… or three… or nine.

the vibes are the abominable dr. phibes (featuring moren @azure-dragonsinger)

[abyssalmermaiden]

"You'll look into it for me, won't you?" "O-of course, Miss Calypso!" "I cannot thank you enough. Let us keep this just between the two of us- no one else needs to know."

Rollox: @yloiseconeillants

Calypso well understands the value of knowing one's enemy, and who better to find the secrets of a priest than another priest? Rollox's crush on her is just a weakness to exploit in her mission of revenge against the man she blames for her sister's death

[whatsthisascianbullshit]

What if there was an apprentice witch who wanted to help and study but then due to The Circumstances she set out on a mission to destroy a tower with violence and murder in her heart?

[circeyoru]

Angelic Doctor _ Part 2

[Human!Alastor x Disguised Angel!Reader]

Part 1

Part 2 (here)

You tried. You really tried. You ignored that blood-red colour his soul had and tried to change him, maybe even turn it into a lighter shard so he could be redeemed or saved in some other way. But there was a reason why that blood-red colour was such a dread to Angels like you, it was dreaded for the known reason that that mortal was an evil person. One that was barely forced to do evil, unlike those with criminal parents or cultists led down a wrong path. No, no, no. These people were the ones who picked their fate and enjoyed it

You had thought Alastor’s kindness and caring persona shown to you would help you persuade him to turn over a new leaf, but he merely favoured you and that was that. No benefits for you to take advantage of that would change the dark person he was

Alastor noticed your advances. Was it to get him into Heaven? Dear, you are so pure and adorable! Words can’t describe it! He was doomed to Hell the moment his shock turned to excitement at his first kill which was his father! Instead of getting him to Heaven, he wants to bring you down to Hell with him

He thought that spending the remainder of his time on Earth with you was enough, but it wasn’t. The more he spent his time with you, the more he wanted to keep you to himself. A darling just for him and his interest only

He started small, asking you out on days off or break time, taking you to visit local cafes he thinks are good or needs a companion to go for those pair offer deals. Then it started to grow, he’d take you to work, walk you back home as he insisted that the streets were dangerous since the cops had yet to catch that deadly killer, even wait for your breaks to come so that he could have a meal with you. He knows you’re a busy person, being a doctor that everyone relied upon and trusted and all that goodness

Originally, he thought your goodness and kindness were a facade to draw people in or a way to earn people’s gratitude towards you. Yet in his time with her, you remained constant, sure there were moments where you let out some steam and vent, but otherwise you were the perfect opposite of him. This just solidifies his fear that the two of you will be apart after one of you dies, forever

In a desperate attempt, he tried binding your soul to his so that even when you die first and go to Heaven, the moment he dies and is dragged down to Hell, you’ll join him. Vice versa

That when he found out you’re not even human. You were a literal Angel

You were made aware of Alastor’s attempt since your angelic powers activated themselves in the middle of the night while you were peacefully asleep. Your wings were summoned and your hair turned white as your halo appeared over your head. At the foot of your bed, you found Alastor with a spellbook of some kind. Around your bed was the setting of some ritual

Betrayed by your kindness, you rushed out of Alastor’s manor that he offered to you during the Great Depression that brought so much suffering. In a twisted turn of event, your time was up and your opportunity came in the form of a lightning shock. Thus, your return to Heaven after your journey on Earth in the city of New Orleans

Alastor barely had the time to compute the failed soul binding, then there was your angelic self, but the most devastating realization was your death. Of course, he knew you weren’t dead, but you’re as good as dead because he would never see you again. You’d be above and he’d be below. He’d never be able to contact you. Never

In a fit of uncontrollable rage and despair, he went on a murder spree. His clean-up getting more and more sloppy until he was cornered and killed by the pack animals that were called the loyal friends of humans

Note: A bit short, but that's all I got. I've seen a lot of Angel!Reader oneshots or headcanons or imagines and had to do one myself. It was fun but a bit short compared to my other ones ╚(″⚈ᴗ⚈)╗

P.S. I have no idea where you guys come from! Thanks for the support!! ( ´•ᗨ•`)っ ♡

Circe Y.

MASTERLIST

[star-farer]

soft falls the victory

Summary: When at last you are smiled upon kindly. AU: Ik'aad Taglist: @kybercrystals94 @fionas-frenzy @padawancat97 @margindoodles2407 @dreamsight73 @groguandthebadbatch @comfy-vember

Comfy-vember 2024, Day 20: Desperate hug

Blasterfire rings like falling stars as they whizz onwards, spewing their wrath into Hemlock’s chest. Death is his lot, no more no less. His fate was sealed the day Crosshair opened his eyes to a weeping daughter in a cold lab.

He watches the man reel with each shot, backwards, backwards, backwards. Watches until he is so weakened his balance gives way. Watches until he topples over the edge of the walkway without protest or noise.

It is not his body that falls, only his corpse.

A pause follows, where Crosshair doesn’t feel the rain battering against him, doesn’t hear the thunder growl in the skies above, doesn’t see the lightning flash white and angry. Only perceives the empty space where the doomed scientist once stood.

He’s gone. The demagolka is gone.

And Crosshair; Crosshair can finally breathe.

The girl stood crouching by, she peers past the walkway, into the dark depths below. A man has fallen, a man has died, and she peers after him with the hope of a thousand suns.

And whatever she sees in her watchful silence, it appeases her fears, because she stands, stumbling upwards in a jolt like a tubie learning to walk. She looks so little from where he kneels, meters, lightyears, parsecs away.

She tilts her chin up, craning her neck, and—

She catches sight of them. She catches sight of him.

Her eyes widen with a starlight, her mouth curves into a brilliant smile, and she runs the distance, swinging arms and striking feet. She runs towards them. She runs towards him.

Something gives way in his chest with such violence he gasps.

She’s safe. She’s safe.

He finds it in himself to pull the blaster down from his brother’s shoulders. He finds it in himself to take a moment and let go.

The downpour is insistent, the shards swift where they pelt against the skin of his face. Hunter’s presence beside him is a steady reassurance, even if breaths heave out of him the same way they do from Crosshair, shaking and weighty.

And at last, at long last, Omega stands before them, joy bright and clear in her wide eyes and wide smile, even if haggardness pulls her shoulders, even if half a binder hangs around one wrist. Her curls lie lank with rainwater above her brow, yet the sight of her warms him better than any sun.

Especially when her smile is turned upon him.

But before he can pull together some semblance of upturning lips, before he can put to voice any hoarse words of endearment, her gaze drifts downwards and she leans forward as if burdened by some new weight. Her eyes snap wider open, the gasp inherent with the gaping mouth.

He refuses to follow her line of vision to his — his — his hand — his kriffing arm — cold metal around his kriffing wrist bereft of a—

The glimmer of tears piling in her eyes, the lines twisting on her crumbling face; if his vision was not enhanced, he’d never catch sight of her heartbreak.

There is a storm of emotions, horror and anguish amongst them, drawing her expression slack. It feels discordant, such loud grief upon so young a face.

And she isn’t a stranger, cries the blood gushing out of his wounded soul.

She is my daughter.

With a choked sob, she throws herself across the distance, arms around his neck, head slotted so close against his. Her weeping comes as quiet breaths, little sounds, shivering wilder than the winds around them.

He nearly lost her.

He nearly lost her.

She leans back a moment, and Hunter fills the space at their sides, shielding them from the onslaught of rain. And—

It feels like years before the truth of the matter pierces him, rending skin, flesh, and bone, driving straight to the soft muscles of his heart. He’s split in two, riven asunder, when he realizes it’s over. They’re safe. His aliit is safe.

It’s all over.

The blaster falls, abandoned by his tight grip, clattering to the floor. Desperation seizes his entire being, his trembling arms wind fierce around both brother and daughter. He pulls them close, despite the clacking armor, despite the tremor that defines him. He pulls them close, all weary joy, all agonizing relief, simply because he can.

Hunter’s chestplate creaks where his fingers curl vice-like. Omega’s shoulder is warm where he hides his face.

It’s over. They’re safe. It’s over.

And closing his eyes, breathing a sigh, he buries himself in the warmth of the embrace, buries himself in the drop of time he holds. The long curls near his face tickling his jaw, the arm around his back pressing him closer still.

His cheeks are dripping wet. His world is remade anew.

And the scent of salt is testimony to what he has won.

[imaredshirt]

When Stan and Ford were 11, a storm hit Glass Shard Beach with winds that were two miles too slow to classify as a hurricane. So it converged over the New Jersey shoreline as a furious tropical storm, turning the sky grey and pulling and pushing the ocean over the beach in high, crashing waves.

The state had strongly recommended evacuating to safety. It was such a fierce storm that the governor even briefly considered making it a mandatory thing. But only briefly. 

And because he didn’t, nobody in Glass Shard Beach left the little beach side town. Nobody wanted to. Or saw the need to. This was especially true for business owners, who scoffed at the thought of leaving their storefronts and tourist traps abandoned for any amount of time, even for a little bit of rain and wind. 

The Pines family was no different. They locked the front door of their store, boarded up all the windows, and hunkered down in the main bedroom to wait out the storm. 

Pops was asleep in bed, snoring loud enough to put the wind to shame, and Ma was next to him, reading through her Psychics National Weekly, snorting at all the news from the Hush, Much? New Gossip! column that she claimed she’d already seen with her psychic powers three days ago.

The twins had taken their favorite quilted blanket and draped it over the back of Ma’s armchair and one corner of the bed, creating a fort that made waiting out the storm a little more bearable. It didn’t do much to muffle the howling winds or the rain pelting the boarded windows or Pops snoring louder than his car could rumble, but there was something about forts that was always comforting to the 12-year-olds. 

They’d set Pops’ metal flashlight in the middle of the fort, shining a bright light up into the quilted canopy. Stan lay on his back and stretched one arm up to wiggle his fingers in the light and throw shadows against the triangular patches of red and orange fabric overhead, eyes wide as he listened to Ford read from his favorite collection of maritime fiction.

“Suddenly,” Ford read aloud, eyes glued to the open book in his lap. “The ship was launched out of the water! A massive tentacle curled around it, and the three sailors saw the monstrous head of the Kraken emerge from the waves! It peered at them with one bulbous, angry yellow eye. Lightning flashed as it opened its sharp, grisly beak to devour them whole.

“‘Oh no!’ Cried the Captain. ‘I’ve steered us right into the beast’s dastardly grip! I’ve doomed us all!’

“‘No,’ said his First Mate. ‘We are not doomed yet, Captain. We’ll get through this. We always do!’”

“Do they?” Stan asked before Ford could continue. He sat up and tried to peek at the book. “Do they make it out alive? Do they get eaten? What happens?”

“Hey!” Ford laughed and tilted the book so Stan could only see the front cover. “Let me finish reading and you’ll see if they live. Only,” he paused and flipped through the book. “Only 19 and a half more pages to go.”

“Aw, Sixer, come on,” Stan groaned. He flopped back onto the floor and threw an arm dramatically over his eyes. “Just tell me! What if the storm pulls me out through the window and throws me into space and you never see me again? Then I’ll never know the ending!”

“First of all,” Ford said, “That’s impossible. Second of all, we need to study these stories as closely as we can, even if they are fictional. It could help prepare us for our adventures across the sea! What if we run across a hungry Kraken, you know?”

“We’d kick its slimy butt,” Stan said. He balled his fists and aimed two uppercuts at an imaginary ocean behemoth. “No dumb octopus is gonna take the Stan o’ War down with us on board!”

“Yeah!” Ford cheered, then he bit his lip and continued in a more subdued voice. “Hey, Stanley?”

Stan stuck his tongue between his teeth as he aimed another bruising punch into the imaginary Kraken above him. “Yeah?”

“Would you be mad at me if I accidentally steered us into dangerous waters?”

Stan went quiet for a moment, flailing fists falling to his sides. He sat up and  watched his brother fiddle nervously with the corner of one page. Then, with a laugh, he elbowed Ford and said, “Are you kidding me? Dangerous water is where all the fun is! What’s the point of sailing if you’re just gonna stick to boring places? Pirates hide all the good stuff where the monsters hang out! Besides,” he added with a smile, “I trust you with my life, Sixer. Wherever you steer us has gotta be the right way.”

Ford smiled bashfully at the book. “Aw, you’re just saying that.”

“Nah, I’m serious! You’re the smartest kid I know, probably the smartest kid anybody knows. You’re gonna steer us towards all the coolest stuff out there using the stars and maps and math and whatever it is sailors use, I don’t even know! And me? I’m gonna protect us from everything.”

Ford flipped to the next page in the book. “Everything?”

“Yeah,” Stan said. “Everything! Giant squids and undead pirates and--and--and undead giant squid pirates!”

“Undead giant squid pirates?” Ford laughed and flopped onto the floor next to his brother. “That’s crazy! I gotta draw it.”

“Don’t forget to draw ‘em in giant pirate hats,” Stan said. “That’s how you know they’re pirates.  And draw some of their tentacles falling off! That’s how you know they’re undead.” “Noted,” Ford said, tapping his temple to signal that he was making a mental checklist for later. Then he nudged Stan with his elbow. “I trust you with my life, too.”

Stan nudged him back and laughed to hide his own bashfulness. “C’mon, tell me the rest of the story before the storm quits on us. Cause then it’s back to boring ol’ school. Yuck!”

With a grin, Ford held the book above their heads so they could both see the text and the intricate woodcut illustrations. He cleared his throat and began in the most dramatic voice an eleven year old could muster, “Before the Captain could respond, the ship tilted, and the three sailors fell towards the open maw of the Kraken!”

Stan listened in rapt fascination as Ford read on. Next to them, the flashlight threw their shadows against the blanket, making them seem larger than their eleven year old selves, as if they were old enough to set sail for adventure the very next day. 

But they were just kids, with many years ahead of them before they would ever be ready to take to the sea.

The storm raged outside. In their fort, the boys nearly forgot about it, lost in tales of daring adventurers and monsters lurking beneath the waves.

[On ao3]

[tallbluelady]

i didn't know people like you existed.

Hear. Feel. Think.

Lucky Apple remembered those words from the story her father told her; the story of what lead him to the cereuleum well and made them lucky.

She found herself floating in a veritable sea of aether. Had she died, and returned to the Living Waters? Only her family believed in them now, the new church peddling salvation in Lightning aspected aether and the blood of the pure.

I am sorry. I'm... I am so very sorry.  That wasn't what Apple was expecting from the Voice of the Waters. Rejoining the Lifestream was to be a joyous event, especially to those waiting for her on the other side.

"Am I not dead then?" Apple asked, realizing she had a voice to speak with, and a body to move with.

"No. But I cannot prevent your death, nor the death of your world," the Voice seemed to center itself in a column of light.

Apple swam over to the light the voice was coming from. It was as easy as swimming in the lake as a child, back when there was still enough water in it to do so. Despite all of Apple's efforts to save what precious water there was left, it was as if all of it was being boiled away.

"I mean, I can't either," she said, trying to comfort the Voice. "I think we would have had to start a lot earlier and with a lot more people to do something like that."

The Voice in the column of light seemed to bend in on itself, almost as if holding back a sob. Was it?

"I am sorry I did not... I am sorry that you are one of the so very few who has heard my plea..." The Voice did sound as if it was holding back tears now. "I tried so long to ignore this world's plight. I cannot interfere. Its fate is set... but I see you. I see all of you and your pain and I wish to stop it. But I can't."

"Why not?" Lucky Apple asked. "Are you not powerful enough to do so?"

"Not if I am to save another," the column straightened, and the Voice took a stronger tone. "Though it may not seem so to you and yours, I am limited in my power to help you. And I must fulfill my mission to the future."

"Oh."

"Oh?" The Voice sounded incredulous. "Well, it's not like the power that the church is peddling is going to stop the world from ending either. At least there's a reason for it all to end. To save another. To save the future. I can accept being a sacrifice for that."

"Not everyone is as willing as you."

Apple shook her head. "No, and they shouldn't be. But... Voice? Actually, what should I call you? I think you're different than the Living Waters."

The light rippled for a moment, and a figure of a woman took shape. "I have many names, and the Living Waters is but one of them. You may continue using it if you wish."

Lucky Apple paused for a moment. The Living Waters had always been... not something person shaped. Occasionally, there were some called to be Its voice but the way it was speaking sounded like it was her God, not the representative...

"Mrs. Waters. I am making a choice to make the world a better place. For everyone that I can. For as long as I can. I've learned that sometimes, you have to let people pout and feel bad, but that doesn't mean that you, yourself, have to feel bad. Most of life isn't what happens to you, it's how you react to it. So I decided to take it as well as I can."

"That is very noble of you," the Living Waters said.

"I don't know how else to be," Apple admitted. "It's either happy or existentially depressed. So I guess I'll focus on the little things I can enjoy while I can."

The Living Waters smiled at her sadly but did not speak. 

Apple smiled back. "So... if I'm not dead... why am I here?"

"Ah... I... I did not assume there were any to hear my call on your world left. That you had ears to hear is a blessing."

"I'm a blessing?"

The Living Waters laughed, of all things. "Lucky Apple, you are by far one of the greatest blessings I've had in a long time. Someone who can see happiness, even in the darkness that comes to swallow her world and her life... it gives me hope for the future. And I need more and more of it as my enemies continue to grow in power."

"Oh!" Apple beamed at that.

"I suppose... I would ask you what you want from this encounter. What would make it easier for you to carry your light through the darkness, to help you ease the suffering of others?"

Apple put a hand to her chin at that. What would make it easier for her to continue on as the Living Waters wanted?

"You'll remember us, right?" Lucky Apple asked. "That we lived?"

"I will. Your souls will join the Great Lifestream of other worlds as well, so your very souls won't be lost either."

"Oh, neat! That's great. Uh. While that does make it easier... I, uh..."

"Is there anything specific that you want remembered?"

"My earring," Lucky Apple blurted out. It was the first thing that came to mind.

"Your earring?" The Living Waters tilted her head, then put a hand over her mouth.

"It's, ah, I know it's..." Apple was blushing and sputtering. Why would she have that be the thing to be remembered?

"My child, I can say for a certainty that your earring will be remembered, and will bring hope to the future."

"Really, you can do that? It won't hurt the future?"

The Living Waters gave Apple a wink. "It is already written. For the hope you have given me, I shall make sure that your glass pumpkin earring is carried through to the next world."

Thanks for the prompt!

[lilbittymonster]

Another Duskwight wizard who's heavily aspected to one element? Don't mind if I do.

[hermits-hovel]

between life and death.

[doomedlightningshard]

It's savage and it's cruel and it shines like destruction Comes in like the flood and it seems like religion It's noble and it's brutal, it distorts and deranges And it wrenches you up and you're left like a zombie

maximum indulgence hours, i think (moren belongs to @azure-dragonsinger). bonus!

[yloiseconeillants]

FEBHYURARY 2024 :: Day 1 - Start

Either it is the wrath of God, for certainly I would think that our misdeeds deserve it, or it is just the harsh assault of the stars in their perpetually changing conjunctions. This plague-bearing year has borne down on humankind and threatens a tearful slaughter, and the highly charged air encourages death.

[abyssalmermaiden]

"And there does sit my false sister Anne"

"A hey ho and me bonny o

Who drowned me for the sake of a man"

Anne and Elsie. (pseudonyms Calypso and Ourania)

Nightmares of warped guilt. After Elsie's death from plague, Anne ran from her grief by putting all her mind upon killing the man with whom her sister spent many of her last days and nights.

(Ourania/Elsie is @yloiseconeillants's)

lyrics from The Bonny Swans by Loreena McKennitt. ALso-

this verse:

"He made harp pins of her fingers fair A hey ho and me bonny o He made harp strings of her golden hair The swans swim so bonny o He made a harp of her breast bone A hey ho and me bonny o And straight it began to play alone"

I feel relates to this set of gposes (content warning for body horror/gore)