#theme: immortality

[hp-fanfic-archive]

The Thousand Deaths by corvuscrowned Pairing: Harry/Draco Rating: E Word Count: 6k When the Kedavras don’t work, they try wooden stakes. When the stakes don’t work, they try blades. When the blades don’t work, the truth spills between them like the vast, churning ocean — eternity, inescapable.

[radiomogai]

[ID: a flag with five horizontal stripes, the first and fifth being twice the width as the others, which are equal. from top to bottom the stripes are dark gray-purple, earthy yellow, muted blue, earthy yellow, and dark gray-purple. in the center of the flag is a light yellow circle with the alteraffectis symbol on it in dark gray-purple. the symbol is a diamond with a small circle centered vertically, and above where it would be if it was centered horizontally. below the circle is a vertical line. there is a horizontal line below where it would be if it was centered inside the diamond. from the horizontal line is half of a pill-shaped oval, the other side connected to the diamond. end ID]

Immoaffectis Attraction

[PT: Immoaffectis Attraction. end PT]

Immoaffectis attraction is a type of alteraffectis attraction that describes how an immortal feels towards who/what made them immortal.

This was coined for the day 1 prompt 'immortality' for @mogai-sunflowers' event, although the concept was originally thought of for the 'tertiary attraction' prompt for @chaoscoining's idexpo event. We're just kind of bad at doing things in a timely fashion.

Tagging: @alteraffectis @aetherive @en8y @queermogaigremlin @neopronouns @hoardicboy @liom-archive @kiruliom @mogai-sunflowers @local-yurei @revenant-coining

sorry about all the notifs rn btw, when we're in the mood to coin we can't let it go to waste, and we need the bits of joy from people interacting with the post to keep it going or we'd queue them lol

[kotoku]

Hi, can I request an Aventurine with an Inmortal! s/o who's also non-binary plz 👀

You're free to reject it if u want, just giving u an idea... 😅

ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ! ꜱ/ᴏ

pairings - aventurine x immortal! reader

content - reader is non-binary/ gender-neutral terms/ established relationship/ aventurine is in for a shock/ reincarnation themes

warnings - teeny angst towards the end

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ You probably wouldn’t have told him about your immortality, figuring that you could tell him when the time is right

↻ Turns out, that time is when you’ve been brutally wounded by an enemy, Aventurine nearly having a heart attack when you show up with multiple wounds and cuts that seemed life-threatening

“How are you..alive??”

“..Surprise..?”

↻ When you break the news to Aventurine, he doesn’t react at first, seemingly taking in everything you had explain 

↻ A part of him feels devastated, is he just a fleeting chapter in your book? A memory that would slowly be forgotten over time? But he also feels relieved, you couldn’t die so he didn’t have to worry about your death anytime soon

↻ Aventurine slowly comes to terms with your immortality, always inquiring about your past and what it’s like

↺ He’s probably curious about the healing process and the damage you take, asking about any experiences you had during battles where it took you a while to heal (the morbid curiosity this guy has…)

↻ If you’re in a battle with Aventurine, you’d probably throw yourself in front of him to defend him from any attacks if his shields aren’t up

↺ He hates your recklessness but also appreciates it

↻ You, as expected, stay the same as Aventurine continues to age, watching him slowly gain wrinkles and his hair fade away (if he doesn’t die to something else, of course)

↺ You’d be pretty devastated about him, mourning his death for a long, long time before suddenly, you see a familiar head of blond and magenta-cyan eyes

“..How– How can this be..?”

↻ If Aventurine were to be reincarnated, you’d be thrilled but also a bit sad, all the memories you shared together, reduced to nothing, as you stand before him as a stranger

“Do I..know you?”

↻ You could feel yourself breaking down all over again, mourning a person who was dead but alive before your eyes 

↺ You’d probably avoid interfering with his reincarnation, wanting fate to run its course

↺ And run its course it did

↻ The reincarnation of your past lover falls for you yet again, and it is only now that every person you have ever loved in the past, resembled Aventurine in some way (whether it was his blond hair, unique eyes, or personality, they all had something in common)

↻ In every life time of his, you were there

↻ You were eternally tied to his soul; soulmates

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

[stormingfrost]

Kinda obsessed with the historical context of Rise of the Guardians. Pitch wanting the Dark Ages to come back, which historically was the decline of culture and records. The Guardians rose at the same time as the Renaissance with the rise of culture, knowledge, and science. (Tooth in particular mentions that she hasn’t been out in the field for 440 years, give or take, which would put that smack dab in the middle of the Renaissance) 

The way Pitch doesn’t want the world to change, the way the Guardians change in tune with the world. The way Jack, who lived in has a human in the 17th or 18th century, who lived in the time after the Renaissance and lived witnessing the world all the way to the modern era, is there to show the Guardians how much they missed and how they can further change and improve for the more modern world. These characters are immortal beings who have so much power over the world, it makes so much sense that when they fall and rise in power it impacts the world that they want to influence, for better or for worse. 

[aventurineswife]

Hello how are you I hope you're taking requests if yes may I ask for blade with a deity reader who can heal his mara but it comes at a price for the reader and it leaves them with side effects and blade doesn't realise till the side effects start showing and it's not enough to kill them but enough to get them weaker

Fleeting Salvation

Summary: Burdened by the torment of mara, Blade reluctantly accepts your healing, which can temporarily soothe his pain. However, the process comes at a steep price, leaving you weaker each time. As Blade begins to notice the toll it’s taking on you, he struggles with the unfamiliar fear of losing someone who willingly sacrifices themselves for his sake.

Tags: Blade x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Touch of Fluff, Immortality and Suffering, Sacrificial, Deity!Reader, Slow Burn.

Warnings: Themes of self-sacrifice, Mentions of pain and suffering (mara-related), Emotional vulnerability, Physical weakness/exhaustion from overusing powers.

A/N: First time writing a Bladie centred fic, i probably got the mara thingy wrong since I'm always confused by it😭😀

Blade leaned against the cold steel wall of the Stellaron Hunters' hideout. The endless pull of mara clawed at his mind, a cacophony of whispers and screams that never ceased. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his broken sword, the jagged edges digging into his palm like a cruel reminder of his shattered existence.

"You're restless again." your voice, soft as starlight, echoed through the dim chamber.

Blade's eyes snapped to you, a figure glowing faintly in the dark. You carried an otherworldly grace, a testament to your divine nature. A healer, Elio had said—a being who could offer him fleeting solace. He had scoffed at the notion when you first arrived, but now he couldn’t deny the faint reprieve you granted him, however temporary.

“I’m always restless.” he replied gruffly, averting his gaze.

You approached, unbothered by his curt tone. Blade was always guarded, his demeanor like an impenetrable fortress, but you had seen glimpses of the pain he carried—a pain so profound it rivaled the stars' lifespans. Kneeling beside him, you placed a hand on his arm.

"Let me help." you offered, your voice steady despite the weight of what you were about to do.

Blade hesitated, his brows furrowing. “You’ve done enough. It’s pointless.”

“It’s not pointless if it brings you peace, even for a moment.” you countered gently.

He didn’t argue further, though his jaw clenched. Blade allowed you to place your hands over his chest, your fingertips glowing faintly as your power flowed into him. A radiant warmth spread through his body, soothing the burning chaos of mara. For the first time in hours, the voices in his head grew quieter, retreating like a tide.

Blade exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing. But as the light dimmed and the healing concluded, you swayed slightly, your breath hitching.

“Are you alright?” Blade’s voice was sharper than usual, his gaze narrowing as he noticed your pale complexion.

“I’m fine,” you lied, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing.”

It wasn’t nothing, but you couldn’t let him know. Healing mara was not like mending physical wounds; it demanded more than energy. It tore at your very essence, leaving you weaker each time. You had accepted this cost willingly, knowing that your gift could ease Blade’s torment, but you hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be to hide the toll it was taking.

Days passed, and Blade began noticing the changes. You moved slower, your hands trembling slightly when you thought no one was looking. The glow that once surrounded you like a protective aura now flickered weakly, as though a storm had dimmed your light.

“Stop lying to me.” Blade demanded one evening as you stumbled after a session. He caught you before you fell, his grip firm yet uncharacteristically gentle.

“It’s fine...” you murmured, leaning against him as your strength faltered.

“It’s not fine,” he growled, his frustration spilling over. “You’re weakening yourself for me. Why?”

Your eyes met his, soft but unwavering. “Because you deserve to live without pain, even if it’s only for a while. You’ve suffered enough, Blade.”

His hands tightened around your arms, his jaw working as he struggled to find the words. No one had ever willingly borne a burden for his sake. He didn’t understand it—why you would sacrifice yourself, even partially, for someone as broken as him.

“Don’t do this again,” he said, his voice low but fierce. “Whatever price you’re paying, it’s not worth it.”

“It’s not your choice to make,” you replied, your tone firm despite your exhaustion. “I’m choosing this. For you.”

For the first time in centuries, Blade felt something unfamiliar—a pang of fear. He had spent so long chasing his own destruction, yet now, the thought of losing you unsettled him in ways he couldn’t explain.

Blade began watching over you more closely after that. He noticed every tremor in your hands, every falter in your step. He tried to refuse your help, but the mara would always resurface, its relentless pull forcing him to rely on you again and again.

One day, after another grueling healing session, Blade didn’t let you leave. Instead, he sat with you, his expression unreadable as you rested against the wall, drained.

“You’re a fool...” he muttered.

“Probably.” you admitted with a faint smile.

Blade’s eyes softened, the weight of your sacrifices pressing heavily on him. “I don’t want this.”

“You don’t want the pain either,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “Let me carry a little of it, Blade. Just for a while.”

He didn’t answer, but the silence that followed wasn’t his usual cold indifference. It was something else—something fragile, like a thread connecting the two of you in the vast emptiness of the universe.

For the first time in a long while, Blade found himself wanting something more than destruction. He wanted you—and that terrified him more than anything.

[vampiremogai]

[PT: immortalgender.

(hi y'all i'm coining a xenogender)

immortalgender:

a xenogender with feelings of immortality, almost vampire or god-like feelings. it has strong masculinity and androgyny, which ranges and varies. it is unending and unknowable.

another way to describe this identity is not quite having a set gender or identity you fit in with but wishing to be seen by others as masculine.

anyone may use this term. :)

Image IDs under Read More.

Image Descriptions:

A digitally rendered pride flag. It has six horizontal stripes, all equal sizes. The flag has the following colors, from top to bottom: dark red, orange vermillion, coppery light orange, salmony light peach, pastel yellow, and pastel grayish blue.

The second image is of the same flag, with words on each of the stripes describing their meaning.

The stripes are labeled from top to bottom as follows:

Dark red: feelings of immortality.

Orange vermillion: connection to vampires and/or other mythical creatures.

Coppery light orange and salmony light peach: the consistency of sunsets and sunrises; we have always known them to be there, yet they continue to be mysteries.

Pastel yellow: androgyny.

Pastel blue: masculinity.

Under that image, there is one more, labelled "transmeds/truscum, TERFS, radfems, exclusionists DNI". Below it, it states, "If you are: anti mogai, anti xenogenders, anti neopronouns, TERFS/SWERFS, truscum/transmed, anti kin, NSFW blog, pro DDLG, anti BLM, flop accounts, pro-shipper/anti-anti, (no)map, radfem, exclusionist, LGBT+ phobe - save me the effort and block me first."

End Description. End PT.]

immortalgender

(hi y’all i’m coining a xenogender)

immortalgender: 

a xenogender with feelings of immortality, almost vampire or god-like feelings. it has strong masculinity and androgyny, which ranges and varies. it is unending and unknowable. 

another way to describe this identity is not quite having a set gender or identity you fit in with but wishing to be seen by others as masculine

anyone may use this term :)

flag meaning:

IMAGE IDS UNDER READ MORE:

Keep reading

[neverswungonswingingstars]

Lestat in Season 1 of Interview with the Vampire

[moonsinkfoxgirl]

honestly not sure why people are so into elves tbh, they're kind of mid

[spacedustmantis]

thinking about if they got out

[vampiremogai]

Copied from below the cut:

; IDs && plain text below !!

pt: tīlucta. coined by me, for 100 acronymchaos event day 5 with prompts time + grief. Definition: a term unique to the grief an immortal feels for the people && things they've lost because they live forever orr grief of an immortal, immortal time & grief, etc

name derived from " tīma " meaning time in Latin && " luctus " meaning grief, sorrow, mourning, etc also in Latin .. option w && w/o flower for personal pref .. :end pt

ID 1: A rectangular flag with 7 strips of varying sizes, with colours && sizes going in top-to-bottom order: medium dark red, small dark yellow, small dark beige, small light yellow, small dark beige, small dark yellow, medium dark red. The dark red strips have crack like spikes going through the other strips. The middle strip has 6 dark red crosses, 3 on the left and 3 on the right where in the center is a dark yellow stylized clock. :end ID

ID 2: the same as the previous but with a dark crimson rose inside the clock :end ID

; tagging : @/radiomogai | @/acronym-chaos ; myles is fascinated by the concept of time travel && also v interested in grief ( in a not weird way lol xe realizes how that sounds hsbshs ) and such .. so w these prompts xe couldn't help merging the two, and xe came up w tīlucta .. !! This has ended up as a term myles will personally use, and xe finds much joy in it .. !! also xe apologizes for the multiple pings, but bc xe is behind on the prompts xe has to post like 3 things in a single day .. !!

★﹕ tīlucta

pt: tīlucta :end pt

★ ⌒⌒ ;; coined by ! me

‿‿⋆﹒⊹ ; for ↓↓

100 acronymchaos event || day 5 prompts time + grief .. !!

☆⌒⌒ ;; definition

; a term unique to the grief an immortal feels for the people && things they've lost because of their immortality // grief of an immortal, immortal time & grief, etc

﹕★ name from " tīma " meaning time in Latin && " luctus " meaning grief, sorrow, mourning, etc also in Latin .. !! option w && w/o flower for personal pref .. :D

; IDs && plain text below !!

pt: tīlucta. coined by me, for 100 acronymchaos event day 5 with prompts time + grief. Definition: a term unique to the grief an immortal feels for the people && things they've lost because they live forever orr grief of an immortal, immortal time & grief, etc

name derived from " tīma " meaning time in Latin && " luctus " meaning grief, sorrow, mourning, etc also in Latin .. option w && w/o flower for personal pref .. :end pt

ID 1: A rectangular flag with 7 strips of varying sizes, with colours && sizes going in top-to-bottom order: medium dark red, small dark yellow, small dark beige, small light yellow, small dark beige, small dark yellow, medium dark red. The dark red strips have crack like spikes going through the other strips. The middle strip has 6 dark red crosses, 3 on the left and 3 on the right where in the center is a dark yellow stylized clock. :end ID

ID 2: the same as the previous but with a dark crimson rose inside the clock :end ID

; tagging : @radiomogai | @acronym-chaos ; myles is fascinated by the concept of time travel && also v interested in grief ( in a not weird way lol xe realizes how that sounds hsbshs ) and such .. so w these prompts xe couldn't help merging the two, and xe came up w tīlucta .. !! This has ended up as a term myles will personally use, and xe finds much joy in it .. !! also xe apologizes for the multiple pings, but bc xe is behind on the prompts xe has to post like 3 things in a single day .. !!

[threepandas]

Bad End: Cultivation

The rope creaked softly, suffering under the weight it was not meant to bear, as it stretched out, seemlingly endless into the mist. This had once been a bridge. The entrance to this lonely place. Humble as it was, the simple rope bridge had once stood for time immemorial. A path of safety above Soul Eater mists below.

Terrible creatures and unspeakable monsters dwelled down there. Things that devoured. Even the mists themselves, were said to drive men mad. Cause hallucinations and aggression. Qi draining in nature. It was like a living thing that digested you slowly.

Unless, of course, you could escape.

Or, it was said, if you were like the legendary immortal who had founded this temple. HE had apparently just walked. Refused the mist's their hold on him. Then climbed the cliff face to this mountain top. I somewhat doubted that tale. But then again, staring down at the rolling mists... it seemed impossible that ANYONE could have ever survived them.

The bridge creaked on, in the soft breeze. There were days it's groans sounded like the cries of a beast in pain. Tortured. When the wind rattled and dragged at what remained of its form. Trying to pull it from it's post. Down, down, down to it's final end.

There was a boot print. Terrible and damning. Cracked, IMPRINTED, deep into the base of the pillar that once held up one side. Far away, the bridge must surely still be stable. Both pillars standing tall, like gaurds. Like brothers. But here?

One powerful kick.

And the bridge had disappeared out from underneath all those that stood upon it.

Everyday... every day I come. Every day I look upon this bridge. Upon the boot, a terrible sin imprinted into stone, and I tell myself I do not recognize the size of it. That my suspicions are wrong. My instincts surely lying. Because... because if I do not?

What can I do? What could I POSSIBLY hope to do? If my suspicions WERE correct? If in this place, lives a monster? I am not stronger them him. Without him, I would be utterly alone. He has insured I am all but dependant on him. Not teaching me how to cook nor clean, farm nor fight. All practical skills are lessons for another day. Forever another day.

Yet...

Yet, I MUST know.

I torture myself with this. The wondering. The questions I do not not ask, for fear he will not even bother hiding behind lies. I stare at the old, long dried blood that stains where the bridge once ended. The shimmering heavenly gold. Somehow... some horrified, gut wrenched, SCREAMING instinct... knows it to be the blood of Tree Fruit.

It is the blood of the unborn. Those that will never get the chance, now. They... they were not even apart of anyone's body. Were wholly seperate, dependent and their protectors for survival. Were FRUIT for God's sake. Just as I had been. Souls reborn, not from flesh, but clean and new, from a Divine Tree. Ascendant from some other place.

I don't know WHY they were taken from the Tree. Why I was. My memory is spotty. It was too soon. I had not forgotten yet. Was not READY yet. It should have been safest to stay there. Be born into the world. Yet... they were on this bridge, instead. Attacked. The blood of infants stains the stones and will never wash clean. I can not... I was still FRUIT, then.

I can not REMEMBER.

And so I come. Again and again, before this rope. That stretchs out into the mists. Above far more terrible things. And try to recall. Make sense of it this terrible thing before me. This bridge. A long, worn, straining rope. With old, well-worn wooden planks, weathered by the ages, that... that hang like bodies.

Strung up in an endless row.

That whisper as they clack and groan with suffering in the wind, "A crime. A crime. Great evil was committed here!"

I tell myself... like a child hiding from monsters they KNOW are real. Trembling and blood soaked, terrified, as they crawl as far back into some small dark place as they can... I... I do not want to compare the boot print in that stone to Lei's. That they would be different sizes, even if I did.

I do not convince myself.

I never do.

"Shimei, this disciple wonderd where you were..." calls out a familiar voice. Deep in the way dangerous waters are deep. Smooth and placid at the surface. With something deadly I can not see, far, far below. "This one has found you at the bridge again. What captivates you so? You missed your morning snack. Should be on your way to early morning meditations."

My smile is more of a grimace, as I turn.

There are days... when forgetting is easy. When the tranquility of this place seeps itself into my bones. The comfort he deliberately arranges for me. The scheduled repetition. It is... trance-like.

Sitting with tea and snacks. Watching the early morning's sunlight dance off the distant mist. As birds wake and dew settles. The world hushed. Cup warm in my hand. Coat dropped over my shoulders. It is beautiful. The meditation garden is beautiful. EVERYTHING here is beautiful.

It is the fact that it is... empty, that bothers me.

This was not a temple built for two people. Remote as it must be in the world. The sect built this place for a reason. And each day that passes? I am more convinced that reason was to have a place to fall back too. The temple is lovely... but more then that? It is a FORTRESS.

Difficulty getting here is not even a fraction of the defens it holds.

So WHY?

WHY are there only two people here?

I nod, stepping towards my "shixong" as he insists I call him, dispite there being just the two of us. His hand reaching out to take my arm, guide me. I no longer need help navigating these halls. But he does not stop. Clings to his excuses to coddle and touch. It is a fight I can not win. I pick my battles. But, before his hand reaches my sleeve. Knife!

A throwing knife, shrieks near silent through the air as it cuts between us. Nearly removing Lei's fingers as it does. I jerk away, startled. He whips around towards the bridge.

"GET AWAY FROM THAT CHILD!"

The voice that roars that command has the distinct rasp of old age. Sure enough, a figure in flowing robes surges forward from the mist, running light as a feather across the single rope that remains of the bridge. Long white hair and beard. A wrinkled face, more accustomed to smiling, now turned into a fierce and determined scowl. The robes of a Grand Master.

There are a handful of warriors following him.

But the one that I can not look away from... it's... it's like looking through the lense of a half forgotten dream. Blurred by angles all wrong. But oh... oh how could I forget that face? The one that stares at me with such fierce and fearful determination?

...Shijie?

More then an older sister, less then a mother. Whisperd promises, muffled by liquid, from long ago. I know that face. KNEW it. It once smiled down at me, as I grew upon my branch, and promised we would be family. Loved me. Beautiful and patient, as she whispered about all the wonders of world.

I was...

Oh.

I was supposed to go with HER.

Be raised by HER. A little sister, a daughter, someone she could guide and grow with. My memories struggle to come together, but faced with familiar faces? They TRY. Especially as power begins to surge around me. Terrible and familiar. The beginnings of a fight.

Someone on my branch. Not my sister. Pale as morning mist and just as untouchable. He seemed lonely. I was lonely. Far from other Fruit, an awkward thing, high up, and on an old twisting branch. That had missed all nipping and cultivation by being accidentally hidden by the leaves surrounding it. The fruit was supposed to grow lower to the ground, where it could be watched. Safe.

But I happened anyway.

And I was alone.

No others to spend my time with. No disciples to come and care for me, day to day. So when the mist man came? I clumsily... reached out. Pat pat. There, there. I'm here, "dude". (I... can not remember what that word meant. But I know I knew it. It was friendly, I think.)

He was surprised to find me, up there.

I don't not think he told anyone.

I...I think he was supposed too?

But it did not matter in the end. Someone else found his hiding spot. Found me. There was much shouting and alarm. Elders, I think. Doctors, to insure I was well. Great relief, that I was a hardly little thing, developing as I should. After that? I had constant visitors. None that seemed very interesting... until... until my Shijie.

They were looking, I think, through interested parties for a match. Who would adopt me. Then there was softness. Sweet, golden days. The mist man visited. Anger from him? Not at me. Displeased. Covetous? I did not understand. Something wrong was growing but I was unborn... did not have a name yet for the sensation.

Just that is was...Dark.

Then it was night time. A beautiful moon through the branches. Smoke, black and terrifying. Screaming and the clash of swords. Unbearable heat, climbing and climbing. Lights blinking out. Dying? Were... were they dying? The great Tree, divine and holy, groaning in agony. Wood popping from heat. Splintering from blows.

Feet upon my branch. Running, running, running. Falling too their knees. Swordsman's hands. Bloody, wrong, not my shijie. Where is my shijie? Sister! SISTER?! I am being pulled. No. No, it is not time. It is too soon. The Fruit is not ready.

The hands do not care.

I am torn out by the roots.

Where the Tree should be... is nothing. I SCREAM. It hurts! A void. The ocean of life gone, gone, GONE! Already I am starving. Destabilizing. Dying again. Scared! Please! I am-!

A hand wraps around the raw nerves of my roots. They are wrong. I know them, but they are WRONG. Where is shijie? Sister... SISTER! Please!! Energy floods back in, as though it never stopped. But... but it is not clean. Like brackish water after so long in clear springs, I choke as I try to adjust.

Moving.

Running.

Where is the Divine Tree? I want to go home.

Others join. Burned. Bleeding. They have Fruit too. I have never been so close to others. They sound nervous too. Scared. But they have their family. Why do I not? There is some plan. A bridge that goes on and on. Below us are terrible things. They are talking? The end in sight.

"-viously you can't... -ep her, she's not your child. Y.. -eat thing protecting her th.. -ll be so relieved you have her child. N.. -all we have to... -ait out this..."

Something ugly is rising. Danger. DANGER. No, no, NO. STOP. Run! Bad thing is coming! I don't-! I can't-! Covetous, terrible, tar-like WRONG! Seeping up like festering! Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!!

The sound of a sword being drawn.

I am tucked close. Cradled like something precious. As a blade sings destruction through the air. A shocked and betrayed cry. Confusion. I can see horror on faces, feel terror from the other Fruit. Two of them are dead. CRUNCH. The bridge violently lists to the side, weight no longer equally supported.

Time seems to slow... as ancient metal slides free of stone.

Half those on the bridge are gone in an instant, as the floor swings out from below them like a trapdoor. Those that remain? Are the souls fast enough to grab the rail that still remains. The boards, as they fall. They hang above certain death, as their friends fall screaming in primal fear, to horrific death below.

How long can they hold on?

Especially with only one hand?

A few already lost their grip on their Fruit in the sudden shift. Can only stare in numb and mind blank horror, soul deep agony, as the bright little lights fall... and fall... and fall...

Inside my Fruit I SCREAM.

I do not remember after that. Only being born. It is a blur of trauma my mind must have refused to keep. D..Damn it. DAMN IT! I jerk away from Lei. I had known. I hadn't WANTED to know... but I had KNOWN.

The Grand Master attacks. His blade crashing like the might of a wrathful god against Lei's. Sending him sliding back. The master pressing his advantage, warriors rushing to fan out between the fighters and me.

Arms. Soft yet unimaginably powerful, the scent of tea and the medicinal flowers she proudly grew for the sect, I was pulled into an embrace. My head tucked against her neck. Arms bordering on too tight. As though I would disappear at any moment.

"Shimei.." my shijie whispered, a wounded sound. "This sister has you. We have come to rescue you. The traitor will never hurt you again. Come!"

This felt right. I nod. Follow her towards the bridge.

"Thief."

Lei's snarls. Never has there been an uglier, more venomous sound. One of the warriors, acting as a shield, dies preventing my sister from being speared through the heart from behind. Desperately, she scoops me up. Breaking into a sprint.

"Do you truely think you can take this one's Disciple from him? His WORLD!?" An unhinged laugh echoed along side the clash on blades. "There is NOWHERE you can hide her, that I will not find! She is MINE! Belongs with ME! You can run but there is NO WHERE you can hide!"

I cling to my sister as she jumps up on the rope, racing away from the gilded cage that was my only home. Over her shoulder, Lei is locked in combat. The ugly something I had always known was there, finally out in the air between us. Demonic energy spilled from him like radiation. Sickening and every bit as caustic. His eyes wild as they lock onto me.

"I'm going to BURN everything that gets in my way, my disciple." He croons, the grin spreading across his face a thing that will haunt me. "Just like before. NOTHING will keep you away from me. Nothing! I am going to hunt you down, drag you to ascension, then spend the rest of time making you MINE."

"And nothing will stop me, child. Not even you. Why?"

"Because I LOVE You."

[eyeonyou]

My Immortalstuck 18 - Kanaya returns as the one shard of sanity in this emo pit.

Also thanks, My Immortal, for making me illustrate a conversation about a 'necphilik'. That was certainly a challenge.

Below: EQ is moistening the dénouement

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[fishareglorious]

i do a light chuckle once i remember hofmann and semmelweis are friends but then i remember semmelweis and marcus' suitcase interaction where they talk about her and i am once again inconsolable about this old woman's death

[vampiremogai]

[Plain text: Immortalitycreation. End PT.]

[PT: A gender in the gendercreation system for when one feels like immortality was specifically bestowed upon them or immortality was specifically created for them. End PT.]

Immortalitycreation

[ immortality + (gender)creation ~~ immortalitycreation ]

A gender in the gendercreation system for when one feels like immortality was specifically bestowed upon them or immortality was specifically created for them .

[ flag ID : a rectangular flag with seven stripes , the middle one is wavy , the colours from top to bottom are : dark grey , dark purple , orange , light gray , orange , dark purple , and dark grey . the flag is surrounded by a white bumpy cloud-like border on all sides , which is thicker around the corners . end ID ]

~ day 1 of @cocajimmycola #colacoins450 ~~ immortality

Coined by the prince 👑

[ PT : Anyone can use the terms that the charming has coined , but ke asks to Please DNI if any of these aply to you: racist, sexist, ageist, antimogai, antiliom, BaB, ableist, transmed, transcum, fujoshi, radfem, terf, proshipper, anti-agere, antifurry, NSFW blogs, (NO)MAP, zoophile, necrophiliac, incestuous or supporter of those who act on these types of paraphilias. end PT ]

[stemmmm]

its really funny how hard i fought not to get back into gf as my wife went down the billford rabbit hole when my track record for characters i get insane about now looks like this

[aventurineswife]

So, reader decided to play mouthwashing due to its positive reviews and how it became popular enough to gain fandom. Maybe Ratio, Aventurine, Kafka, Blade, Silver Wolf, Jing Yuan and Jade decided to watch reader as they play? How would they react to this game's plot, it's characters and opinions?

HSR Characters Reaction On Mouthwashing

Tags: Kafka x Reader, Silver Wolf x Reader, Blade X Reader, Psychological Horror(not the actual fic but the game), Character Study, Game Reactions, Manipulation, Redemption, Survival, Dark Themes, Self-Destruction, Fractured Minds, Immortality.

Warnings: Strong Language, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Mentions of Mental Health Issues, Psychological and Emotional Distress, Dark Themes of Suffering and Redemption, Self-Harm (Implied, Related to Destruction and Pain), Death and Death Imagery.

A/N: I haven't fully watched the whole gameplay, so this might a bit ooc but I do know some basics of what happened and all I gotta say is: I hate Jimbo‼️🧍‍♀️ also shortened this to three characters because tags won't take the others and I probably would've to write each characters individually for their reactions on each characters so sorry if this disappoints you :')

Kafka lounged gracefully on a velvet chair, her fingers tracing the rim of a crystal goblet filled with a dark, undisturbed liquid. The soft glow of the screen reflected off her red wine-colored hair as she observed the game unfolding before her. Mouthwashing, a psychological horror game that had garnered significant attention, was the latest entertainment distraction.

The game's plot piqued her interest immediately—stranded in space with dwindling supplies, a mutilated captain, and a fractured crew. Kafka found the dynamics between the characters fascinating. The tension, the fractured relationships, and the slow unraveling of sanity… it was like watching a perfectly woven web fall apart. She couldn’t help but admire how the developers had manipulated the player into becoming complicit in the escalating violence.

Her eyes narrowed at the unraveling storylines. "So, it’s a game of power and survival," she mused, sipping from her glass. "But with a touch of madness, I wonder if the creators intended to turn the player into the true villain. The emotions on display—guilt, betrayal, desperation—can only lead to one outcome: unraveling."

Kafka's attention shifted to the player’s choices. The tension between the crew members, the twisted relationships, and the manipulation—it felt familiar. She was a master of persuasion, a manipulator of emotions, but this game was something different. It made her wonder how the player would handle the sense of culpability for the crew’s inevitable downfall.

"I suppose," she mused, "this is what makes games like this addictive—the slow collapse, the control one has over others... It’s almost poetic, in a sense." She couldn't tear her eyes away from the screen as the final moments played out. Jimmy’s tragic end, believing he had redeemed himself by placing Curly in the cryopod, was something Kafka could relate to—a misguided belief in redemption after irreversible actions.

Turning her attention back to her glass, she smiled softly. "I would have handled it differently, of course. But I suppose that’s the beauty of these games—they allow us to explore paths we’d never dare take in reality."

Silver Wolf sat cross-legged on a low sofa, her sharp gaze fixed on the screen as the game's opening scene began. Her fingers twitched in a restless, almost instinctive motion—an impulse to hack, to break the system and rewrite the story as she often did. But she forced herself to focus, her curiosity about the game's mechanics outweighing her usual inclination to manipulate.

The dark and gritty atmosphere of Mouthwashing quickly drew her in. The world-building was minimal, but what Silver Wolf found compelling was how the game subtly forced players into moral corners with each choice. The crew’s personalities were rich with flaws, and the tension between them was palpable. Her fingers flexed, itching to dive deeper into the psychological undercurrents, analyzing each interaction like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

"Not bad," Silver Wolf muttered, studying the way the plot twisted and turned with each new revelation. The complexity of the relationships, particularly Jimmy's unraveling sanity, fascinated her. "It’s like hacking a system, but instead of codes, it’s the characters' minds. The more you understand them, the more control you have over the outcome."

She watched intently as the player made choices, her eyes narrowing when the characters’ fates grew darker. “Hmph, some people just can't handle the game. They don’t see the bigger picture. It’s all about the challenge, about beating the odds. It’s not just survival—it’s about making it through with your mind intact. The chaos is part of the fun.”

Silver Wolf tilted her head as she saw Jimmy make his fatal choices, his mental state breaking down under the weight of guilt and fear. "That's one way to go out," she muttered. "Pathetic, really. I would’ve used that moment to break free, to rewrite the whole scenario. But I suppose that's why it's not me playing."

She smirked, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Still, I can appreciate the game's challenge. It's not about winning, it's about seeing just how far you can push the boundaries before it all collapses. Just like the game of life." Her fingers idly tapped against her knee. "Maybe I’ll try a new strategy next time."

Blade stood motionless in the shadows, his piercing eyes fixed on the screen as Mouthwashing unfolded before him. The plot resonated in ways that few things did—survival at any cost, fractured relationships, and a constant drive toward self-destruction. His cracked sword, an eternal symbol of his fractured existence, almost felt lighter as he watched the characters’ struggles.

The captain, Curly, with his tragic fate, reminded Blade of his own cursed immortality. Mutilated, unable to speak or act, yet still alive—trapped in a state of perpetual suffering. Blade’s gaze lingered on the screen, his mind replaying his own endless cycle of death and rebirth. He saw in Curly a reflection of his own fate: an unending existence that could only end in violence and ruin.

"What a pitiful display," Blade muttered, his voice low and cold. "Surviving only to slowly lose everything—your sanity, your humanity… That’s what this game is, isn’t it? A slow descent into madness, with no way out."

He watched as the crew's relationships deteriorated, one by one. Jimmy’s spiral into madness, his attempts at redemption, and the eventual tragic end... it all felt too familiar to Blade. "How weak," he whispered, his fingers twitching at his side. "No honor, no purpose. Just mindless survival."

Yet, there was something in Jimmy's desperate final act that resonated with Blade. The desire to find release, to end it all after causing so much destruction. It was the same goal Blade had sought for so long: an end to the suffering, an escape from the endless pain of immortality.

As the game neared its conclusion, Blade’s eyes narrowed. "They think they can redeem themselves," he mused. "But redemption is a lie. There is only the inevitable conclusion—endless destruction." His hand brushed the hilt of his broken sword. "This is the true path. There is no escaping it."

The game ended, and Blade remained silent, his expression unreadable. "A fitting end," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But not my end."