#verse: the cost of immortality.

[insidi0summoved]

malachai parker « @fiercehearts » cast a spell : [ 📲 • sms ] —— k. / kai xd  ⛧

‹ text — kai › what crawled up your ass, mh? ‹ text — kai › because it's either that  ‹ text — kai › or you are trying to get yourself hexed by being this insufferable

[starless-nightz]

Voicelines about "The Mad Mage" (Freya)

Includes: The Archons, Albedo, Klee, Dainsleif, Wanderer, Arlecchino, Lyney, Lynette, Freminet.

Venti:

Oh, you’ve heard of the Mad Mage too? Heh, they say Freya was once the High Mage of Khaenri'ah, before she lost herself chasing immortality. Quite the cautionary tale, isn't it? Now, some say she roams the world, searching for even more power, like a storm that never passes. But... myths have a funny way of becoming songs! Maybe I’ll write one about her one day. Though, I’d leave out the part about her sneaking into children’s dreams... wouldn’t want to scare my audience away, hehe!

Zhongli:

The Mad Mage, you say? Hmm... I am familiar with such tales. However, certain... agreements prevent me from speaking on matters that are not mine to share. It is said that every myth contains a grain of truth, though some truths are best left undisturbed. Should you seek further knowledge of Freya, tread carefully. There are forces that do not take kindly to prying eyes.

Ei:

The Mad Mage? Freya... Hmm, I am not well-versed in such a name. If she is truly from Khaenri'ah, then her path has not crossed mine. Still, the pursuit of power without balance... it sounds familiar. Many have lost themselves to such ambitions. If this 'Mad Mage' still wanders the world, I would be cautious. Power that is uncontrolled can disrupt even the most carefully crafted eternity.

Nahida:

Ah, The Mad Mage... Freya, isn't it? A name whispered through the cracks of history, and yet, not much more than a myth to many. But I know myths often carry seeds of truth. Once the High Mage of Khaenri'ah, she sought power beyond the stars themselves. Now, some say she wanders the lands, still seeking, still... yearning. It's unsettling to think of someone who would trade so much of themselves for endless power. But at what cost? Legends may fade, but the consequences... they often linger.

Furina:

The Mad Mage? Freya...? Oh, no, no, no—don’t speak of her so casually! Do you know the kinds of horrors they say she’s capable of? Immortality, power beyond reason... and that unsettling way she slips through the shadows, unseen. A mere myth? Hah, I’d rather not find out if it’s true! The idea of someone like that lurking in Fontaine—*shivers*—it’s... unsettling. Best not to tempt fate with her name, wouldn’t you agree?

Albedo:

Ah, Freya... yes, I remember her. She used to collaborate with Alice, though their relationship was far from friendly. Cold, calculating, and entirely self-absorbed—Freya always seemed more interested in pursuing her own ambitions than fostering any real connection. Her pursuit of power was relentless, even cruel at times. To her, others were merely tools, disposable once they served their purpose. It's no surprise she’s become more myth than memory now, but I can assure you... she is very real, and just as dangerous as the stories claim.

Klee:

Oh, you mean Auntie Freya! She’s kinda scary to most people, but not to me! When she used to visit, she’d always give me yummy sweets—lots of them! She said it was so I wouldn’t 'interrupt her important work,' but I think she just liked having me around, hehe. She doesn’t smile much, but I know she’s not as mean as she seems. Maybe she just needs more friends... or more sweets!

Wanderer:

Freya, huh? I’ve crossed paths with her in the past. Back when she was still working with the Fatui, her arrogance and ambition were... palpable. She was always wrapped up in her own schemes, manipulating others to further her goals. The so-called ‘Mad Mage’ was nothing but a power-hungry relic, even back then. Her presence was a reminder of why I steer clear of such alliances. I’ve seen firsthand how destructive unchecked ambition can be.

Arlecchino:

Freya, that insufferable fool. Her arrogance is as legendary as her dark powers. I’ve always found her self-importance utterly revolting. But I must admit, she has one redeeming quality—her peculiar fondness for children. She may use it to manipulate or distract, but it’s the one weakness in her otherwise impenetrable facade. It doesn’t make me like her any more, but it’s a curious aspect of her otherwise repellent personality.

Lyney:

Ah, Freya... I’ve seen her true nature in action. With the Fatui agents, she was nothing short of ruthless—her methods were cold and unyielding. Yet, when she interacted with the children of the House of the Hearth, she was a completely different person: calm, gentle, and almost affectionate. It’s unsettling how someone so capable of cruelty can show such kindness to the innocent. It’s a reminder that beneath her fearsome reputation lies a complexity that few can truly understand.

Lynette:

Freya? I’ve crossed paths with her a few times. My experience with her has been... neutral. She’s certainly formidable and carries an air of authority, but she’s never given me a reason to feel strongly one way or the other. I’ve seen her be both cold and calculating with the Fatui and surprisingly gentle with children. Perhaps that duality is what defines her. As long as her actions don’t impact us directly, I prefer to remain impartial.

Freminet:

Freya... I remember her well. When I was little and I fell and hurt my knee, she was there. Despite her reputation, she was surprisingly kind. She told me it was okay to cry and not to hide my pain. Her words were gentle, and her presence was comforting. It’s strange to think of her as ‘The Mad Mage’ when I have such a different memory of her. To me, she’s someone who showed me unexpected kindness during a difficult moment.

Dainsleif:

Freya... I remember her well, from the days when Khaenri'ah still stood. She was once our High Mage, but her obsession with immortality led her down a dark path. Through forbidden rituals and dark magic, she achieved what she sought—eternal life—but at a terrible cost. Even back then, I distrusted her, her cold ambition and disregard for anything but her own power. Now, to know she walks alongside Lumine in the Abyss... it is unsettling. She may be immortal, but her soul is long lost to darkness. And I will never trust her.

[aibouart]

i NEEEED to know more about the poylcule

SO THERE'S 4 GUYS AND I MADE A POLYCULE BEFORE I KNEW WHAT POLY WAS AND ONE OF THEM IS INTERSEX AND IDENTIFIES AS TRANS BEFORE I KNEW WHAT TRANS WAS AND NONE OF THEM ARE HUMAN !!

also this is SO unorganised cuz there's 10 YEARS OF SHIT and i can't organise the thoughts so here u go (and also bonus old art in this)

LOOK AT THIS OLD ART!!

LETS GO GAYS!!

since this is a good way to start, i can say from above image it's:

Malamute, Lyo (pronounced Leo), Youkai, and Red

Malamute and Lyo are both shape shifters with a single animal they can shift to. Malamute is... a dog yes. and Lyo is a bird! Youkai is my insane mary sue with a huge list of super powers and an old insert in my daydreams, and i STILL dream as him constantly. Red and Youkai are a primary pairing in the polycule when I used to draw them. i wouldn't say he's a self insert, but i usually replace myself in my memories with him and daydream abt what he'd do instead w his CRAZY INSANO POWERS.

Red is 6'9" and youkai is 5'1" 0) (Red gains another inch anytime someone calls him short)

In their primary universe they are part of a school called the VRS (virtual reality school) where each student is created in the real world in a lab recreating people (sometimes given super powers as a human creation experiment thing but they're usually in a verse where powers are normal). Their physical body is in a lab, but their consciousness is part of the VRS for 4 years before they are awoken irl. this is done by them graduating from the VRS and then being woken up. they can return to the VRS, too, but usually don't do so for long.

because of this, and the weird way their hubverse works, they have memories across maaaany different AUs. any AU that gets repeated for RP or daydreaming with different twists, branches, etc, will usually become part of these memories as the more prevalent an AU is, the stronger the memories become. They will slowly start regaining memories while in the VRS.

despite this, it's very uncommon anyone actually snaps to reality and realises this. most people are vaguely aware that they have memories of multiple different lives but don't put it together.

Lyo always does.

And he's always the first to remember anything, realise they're memories of other universes/lives, and has to just... live with it. But because of it, he's sort of the mom of the group. he's emotionally there for all of them, and does his best to help everyone in the group to connect to each other each time, and cope with whatever memories resurface, or whatever new things they're going through.

as such as he gets on with all of them with little bickering, and is a huge glue to the group even before they end up developing the polycule (again). Youkai and Malamute are the most distant with each other, they're friendly but their natures of being emotionally unavailable and not really talking much to anyone means they rarely get chances to connect. but none of them are like, pressed to force anyone in the group to love everyone equally/the same way, so they're fine w the status quo like this.

malamute is most connected with lyo, though, and still likes to hang out w everyone. he also collects marbles, and likes to build little shelters for cats or other small animals.

(he also has the least art..........)

youkai is heavily aware of the multiverse and can even travel to other verses, at the cost of being unlikely to ever return to where he came from. because of this, he has a very bleak outlook on life, he's just another one of him of the millions out there. he's also the only true immortal of them, when he dies he comes back to life after a few minutes at most (granted if whatever killed him is lodged inside him he will just die again). you can see his insane list of shit here though, it's a lot

youkai would easily kill anyone for his guys tho but none of them want him to, esp red.

red is the most complicated, though. i think he does love them but he struggles a lot with believing his connections are meaningful because he doesn't feel worthy. i also think his extremely warped relationship w relationships in general due to his trauma also makes it hard for him to develop healthy relationships. even tho they look healthy on the outside, internally he's usually doubting them all the time, and doubting himself. he still does his best with his boyfriends (he has... a lot from AUs.. he's a boyfriend magnet..) and tries so so hard to give them all the respect, space, and attention they deserve, but he's quick to be self sacrificial in the process (and in general).

lyo gives him a safe space at his place when he can for red to chill, but red often refuses help because he doesn't want to apply pressure on others, or burden them.

(youkai on right here, this was when i was tryna get used to a new tablet)

also lyo is a sex worker!! he loves his job! he used to be a prince in his original universe where he ran away but it's such an uncommon AU now that it's rarely referenced.

i love lyos' dynamic w red tho cuz lyo likes to tease him and red is very easily teased but everyone else doesn't really have the heart to do that to him

ofc, lyo always tries not to go too far and would quickly apologise if he does.

here's an au where lyo received his memories but they blurred his current verse memories where red's dad was actually killed a long time ago (hallelujah)

one time they got cursed w boobs by a rogue wizard

also here's a good drawing of red's general vibe, he is with Bandit from @conflitdecanard (U DONT HAVE TO REBLOG THIS SAAS I AM SO SORRY)

it was red's first time really meeting another vampire that didn't scare the absolute shit out of him. ( i would love to rp him w more vampires one day..... even if they scare the shit out of him....)

also red is a total open book, his body language is pretty obvious and he's horrible at lying.

but his default is "nervous and anxious".

babie

he's so fucking hard to draw just cuz he's this specific mix of androgynous that makes it too easy to make him too masc or too femme and he has this long face URUGGG he's been haunting my ass since day 1.

he used to be a lot more confident but then he had a backstory.

also i am insane abt him (granted youkai is missing a LOT of art cuz i used to draw him the most but lost a lot of the files).

[via-the-ghoul]

A Hanging Dying dream forever repeating

AKA: the Via-Verse’s version of Alagadda’s origin.

After working off and on on this for months and debating whether or not I should post it, it’s finally, finally here! This takes some elements from other tales, but I made it my own lol.

Anyways, TW: mind-altering, body horror, death by childbirth, heavy usage of blood, emotional child abuse, plague (which has descriptions of killing people), religious themes, child abandonment, mild gore, medical themes, suicide by hanging, slit throats, and someone snaps their own neck at one point, a knife’s briefly mentioned, cosmic horror, chains, brief mentions of drinking, someone plays with another person’s trauma in an attempt to manipulate them.

Sorry about the long list of TWs, but it’s just text, no pictures.

Anyways, here we go! (The document this is saved on is 12 pages long what is wrong with me lol)

Have you ever heard of Alagadda? Probably not, most haven’t these days. It was a kingdom long ago, before it became something else at the cost of memory. Do you wish to know what happened? …Good.

It all started as most stories do: before anything noteworthily weird happened. There was a king, there was a queen, she was pregnant, they loved each other very much, and the kingdom loved them. Nothing that made it seem too different from most kingdoms.

Except, of course, for one thing. The king had a certain secret, one that would hand the ink and pen to the hands of fate for Alagadda.

He had a love for forbidden magics. His nights spent at the Wanderer’s Library, writing the names of Gods and various sights across the sea of universes. Eventually, the Way he used just closed up, but that didn’t matter. He already had what he needed to grant his greatest wish.

Dyo’s surroundings felt like a dream to him. A faint memory of a dream from centuries back, that was what this was. He knew he wasn’t in Alagadda anymore, and he felt off. Was this fear, or bewilderment? And what were these colors? And why wasn’t this entirely unfamiliar?

He could hear birds chirping somewhere on his left. Why was the sound’s location so clear? And what kind of birds were these, with a song so beautiful and clear, something he could sing along to if he possessed vocal chords?

What was this strange, new, beautiful world? The sky above him, it was blue? Was that the word for it? Why did he know the word?

Gosh, if only he still had his body. Then he could investigate this strange new world he was thrown into. See the birds. Maybe sing.

The king wished that him, his queen, and his future child would live forever. The kingdom loved them, and he loved his queen, so there was no problem he could think of. Plus he had a common trait to most mortals: thantophobia. He was a strange man driven by fear. Not very strange, actually, when comparing him to others.

He whispered into the abyss, and three brothers answered. The youngest draped in darkness, his pale face standing out with a sliver grin. The middle a strange mismash of armor and arms, dust and clutter. The eldest of pale colors, faced in pure shadows and towering over the night sky. Three ways to die. A deal was made, a game of cards for immortality.

He fought for this immortality, he really did. He was able to top the two younger. But the eldest defeated him, far, far too easily, crushing the built up hope. And then they returned to the shadows without a word, leaving him alone.

The queen gave birth three days later. The child survived, but she faded away. The child didn’t cry, covered in their mother’s blood. The king didn’t understand why, and did not hold the child. So they remained, wrapped in dark clothes by the midwife, for someone else to take care of.

Time seemed to return to a familiar melding for Dyo. He couldn’t tell how many hours it took before the sun began to set. He knew that soon, a familiar night would appear. He felt strangely sad, he rather liked this new day. But he couldn’t really hear the birds anymore, and he was rather tired of being stuck in one place. Perhaps something familiar would help this horrid wait for some poor soul to come across him.

However, a new sound came from his right. Faint, but approaching. He had heard variations of this sound back home, and it sometimes appeared in this new daytime, but never was the crushing of leaves back home, and never was it approaching him here.

Footsteps. The stepper was probably wearing boots, from the sound of it. He honestly couldn’t wait, he really wanted to move around this new world. See the birds. He wondered what new colors they would be.

The footsteps got closer and closer, until finally a shadow covered Dyo. He could feel himself smiling. He never smiled back home. He could get used to this new world. He felt a gloved hand grab him, and hold it up to the mysterious face of the new being. The face…

It was probably the most horrific face Dyo had ever seen.

The plague came after that. Sores spotted the people of the kingdom, blood and bile coming from screeching mouths. The screams of the people echoing in the streets for years. The inescapable smell of death. But the king never heard them, never smelled rot or tasted bile.

The king had hidden deep in his castle, sobbing, mourning his queen, and only his queen for all those years. Unaware of the state of his people. He had put the lords in charge of it all, the kingdom and his child. His child…

His child grew strange. They were quiet, and rarely smiled, but weren't mean. They did try to help the people, as much as a child could. Sometimes, when there was no hope that someone would survive, they would sit by their side until they fell, no matter how the doctors warned against it. Strangely, the child never grew ill themself. Despite most people accepting the child, there were… rumors about the kid. Whispers of being the devil’s child and witchcraft, which the child somewhat heard. They didn’t believe it, but… it explained why their father never played with them like other fathers did.

10 years after it all, the king finally listened, having returned from his sorrows. He heard the screams. He saw the blood, and he saw the corpses. But he didn’t blame himself, no.

He blamed the child. He accused them of not being his child, of having been a spirit possessing them sent by the brothers to torment him, bringing the plague with them wherever they went. A monster that must have killed the real child.

The child didn’t understand. They had never met their father before this, but they heard they weren’t supposed to do this. They were supposed to love their children. That was what they saw with the fathers in the street. Was this why he never showed himself? Were they really a monster? A fake? Were those whispers right?

The king ordered the child to be locked away in their room, and never let out. Proclaimed them to be a contamination spreading monster. Some believed and some didn’t, but the ones that didn’t didn’t do anything to stop it.

Perhaps they were supposed to be locked away, perhaps there was something wrong with them. That was what they wondered, anyway. Their father hid away from them for so long, after all. Perhaps this was the reason. Perhaps they were born of dust and shadows, their mother unable to bear the beast she created. Perhaps everyone was right, perhaps they doomed the townsfolk they loved by existing.

The child began to cry.

There was something completely off about the figure’s face. It had the same mask-face as the people back home, but there was something off about its construction. The mask felt too organic, the yellow eyes uncovered, sunken deep in its head. Too expressive, too wrong, that was the eyes. It’s eyes, something changed in Dyo upon seeing the creature’s eyes.

Memories began to appear in his head, of long before, of a state of wakefulness, of trees and blue birds, and colors! So many forgotten colors, bright orange paints like the sky when the sun rose, the green grass and trees he could get lost in, a blue sky, a blue sky! And purple, purple was his closest friend’s favorite.

His childhood friend. The king’s child. By the stars, the king had a child! Why couldn’t he remember more about this lost child?! What happened to them?

Dyo didn’t see the strangely beautiful abomination for long, as it wordlessly put it in a dark brown bag. Brown, he could remember the color of tree trunks and dying leaves and the child’s eyes. The child…

Though now he was in darkness, he could tell the entity would let him out sooner or later, it had too. Perhaps there were more wonderful joys he had forgotten that the entity would show him. Though, why weren’t all these joys back home? Why were they hidden away? And what happened to his friend…

The king tried again the next morning. He knew he may not be able to resurrect his wife, or his child, but he was willing to try to give himself immortality again. Not with the brothers, of course. He simply called into the void, hoping someone, anyone would answer.

Something did come out, draped in dark robes and with a hidden face behind bandages, if it even had a face. They called themself an ambassador of a faceless being. They promised the king much more than immortality. They said they could make the king a God. A God… a God could bring back his wife and child. A God would never die. He could have it all, as long as he did what the thing said. The king smiled for the first time in ten years.

Meanwhile, our child looked out their window. A small wave to a boy their age they got along with, but the boy didn’t see. Perhaps the boy would forget about them. And they’d be up here forever. If they weren't such a clever child, perhaps they would try to jump out the open window. Alas, the child didn’t wish to die. Maybe not wanting to sacrifice themselves for the kingdom was part of being a monster. Not wanting to kill the twisted, sick devil that cursed the town-

It was at that time a crow landed at the window. The child liked crows, even though their father didn’t, as they were always nearby when they went to visit their mother’s grave, back before the tower. It was strangely comforting to them. So the child then took a piece of lavender from their shelf. It died when they plucked it, and it was rotting, being here for years, but the child didn’t care. They placed the lavender in front of the crow, and it picked it up. It almost seemed to smile before flying off. The child felt better. Maybe they were not a monster. Crows seemed more trustworthy than the king anyway.

Time was melding again in the bag. Or perhaps it was Dyo not liking the dark. It felt like he was floating in the darkest void, where no one could hear him scream, even if he had the vocal cords necessary. Gosh, perhaps the entity would give Dyo a body so he could actually talk!

A sudden blast of light and another gloved hand later, he was out of the bag. Apparently the entity lived in some sort of cave. He could make out some sort of cloth in the background. He didn’t know why, but Dyo figured it was called a blanket. People… slept on blankets. They never slept back in Allagadda.

He saw a table with another cloth on it, this one not a blanket for sleep. It was soaked in red blood. Medical cloth. This was a doctor of some sort. The entity placed him on said table, laying on the cave’s wall. The blood was dry, but the blanket was somewhat wet. Attempts of cleaning blood that never really worked. The doctor stared at him, before staying one sentence, in a dark, echoey voice.

“I know you are alive.”

Three years passed, and the kingdom grew strange. The king started to paint over anything that wasn’t black, white, yellow, or red. His favorite colors. More people started to wear masks, masquerade masks, forever. No one seemed to question any of this, and just went along.

The child meanwhile, disappeared. They had attempted escape twice before, and the lack of fighting back once they were caught again made them think escape wouldn’t be much of an issue. As the plague had been fading out, the king simply assumed they returned to the darkness they came from. This is not what happened, they merely escaped, without anyone noticing this time. Though some suspicion was casted on the new young court jester, theories they let out the kid, nothing ever came of it.

The child had grabbed a mask and ran off with it. No one was to see their face, no one was to know who they were. They cut their hair and changed their name. They ran to the town doctor, and claimed to be an orphan child seeking apprenticeship. The doctor took pity on the kid, and took them in. No one realized who they really were. No one claimed them a child of the devil, or a witch.

Dyo wished he could respond to this, he really could. He really wished that he and the entity could have spoken this whole time, about the sky, and the birds, and all these questions that were in his metaphorical brain. But he had no host, and he couldn’t look into this thing’s mind. Maybe he was still getting used to this dimension? He simply frowned. The entity tilted his head a bit.

“Huh, I thought you could still speak in this state. I must have overestimated you, my apologies. Hold on.” The entity picked him up again, and flipped Dyo around. Now they could only see the cave wall. The entity better have a good explanation for this when he actually gets a body.

He could still hear, however. He could hear the bag opening, tools being taken out, as well as something soft. Sewing, wet tearing sounds, soft fleshy noises? How did he not feel any of those in the bag!? And why did the entity think he wouldn’t want to see this over a boring old cave wall?

After what seemed like hours, he was flipped back around to see the entity’s crude creation. Flesh draped over bones, a tear in the “face” to simulate a mouth, bulging eyes and no hair. A small mannikin of flesh.

“I could have done better, but you will just destroy it anyway. No use wasting more spare parts than necessary.” The entity sighed before placing Dyo over its face.

Finally, he was getting pretty bored.

The years went on. No one mentioned the king’s child anymore. It was getting harder to see any colors that weren’t the king’s favorite, even in the yellowing sky.

The people began to change as well. They seemed to be losing themselves, more and more thinking merely of parties and wine. It didn’t affect everyone, but most that weren’t inflicted ran to other kingdoms. Eventually, the only people not affected were the town doctor, and our child. Our child…

Our child wasn’t much of a child anymore, and despite having hid it so well, they never forgot their past. They could still be found laying the last bits of rotting lavender at the Queen’s grave. Sometimes, they’d talk to the crows, simple little greetings, but still.

You see, that one crow in the old prison, it would come back. The child would talk to it eventually, when they ran out of lavender. They were friends. Once, the crow even gave a piece of rotting lavender to the child. They never forgot that. They even took it with them when they escaped, though they had now lost that decaying flower. The child spoke better with crows than people since then.

Though one day, 20 years after the day the king first invoked the three brothers, it was time for the final step of the thing’s plan. No one could have guessed. No one but the king knew the thing. And the king was too entranced to question its word. No one could have guessed what it wanted.

“Thank you, you do not know how frustrating it is to need to talk but have no mouth! I am sincerely grateful-”

“Why are you here?”

“...Huh?”

“Why are you here and not… there?” The entity’s voice was cold and stern. Clearly not a fan of Alagadda.

“Oh, right, I was so ungratefully thrown out of my home for daring to be worried about my king, daring to question the ambassador, daring to care about my people!” Dyo was still, admitting, getting used to puppeting a body in this world, and this body didn’t have all the necessary parts to move, but he tried dramatically throwing his hand to his face and his other hand where his heart would be. The intent could probably be read however, judging by the entity’s reaction.

“Sounds about right. There is no care in that kingdom, no sense. The moment someone begins to fall out of line…”

“Not a fan huh?”

“Of course not! That kingdom is an artery in the body of the pestilence. It is filled with animal instincts, only chaos, consuming, destruction with no rhyme or reason, and that ambassador would not have it any other way.”

“...Have you been there before?” A potential way back. As much as he liked this new world, he did want to go back. He couldn’t get revenge without going back. The entity hesitated before giving their answer.

“Yes. I am waiting until I have made enough progress on my cure to retur-”

“How did you get there? Have some unfinished business I need to, well, finish.” The entity froze. Something about that question thawed away all that cold from the entity. In there, somewhere, was something afraid to lose him.

“You… Want to go back there? What could there be to justify entering that place again, when you have just begun to find yourself again?”

Dyo tilted the fleshy thing’s head, and paused.

They found the king in the middle of his court, hanging by a rope. But no one seemed to care. They simply threw him in the grave, not bothering to remove the rope or even bury him. He just laid there, as crows feasted on the body. Even the town doctor, so far unaffected by anything, found herself uncaring to the king. Her apprentice never really cared for the king at all anyway.

That night, however, they still couldn’t sleep. They still wondered what could have happened to prompt this, so they looked out the window. What if the king really did love them, and this was their fault? No, that couldn’t be the case. Perhaps they’d see a crow outside, something to ground them in reality.

However, they didn’t see that. Instead, they saw… something slowly moving, for walking or even stepping didn’t feel right, through the street, rope around their neck. They couldn’t make out a single other feature, but enough was enough, and they could read context clues, they were not sticking around any longer. The town was going mad, and the apprentice and the doctor could not do anything about it. They had to leave, they had to. They panicked, putting on their mask, before they ran downstairs in an attempt to get their superior out with them…

The doctor was dead. Simply lying there, throat slit. Knife next to her. Blood was everywhere around her. Far too much blood for this type of wound.

The apprentice was horrified, and ran outside. It didn’t matter how, they had to get out of here as quickly as possible, and never look back. They’d mourn later.

But as they ran, they heard something behind them. Something was chasing them, but that wasn’t what they heard. It must have been floating, as they could also hear faint sounds of wind. No, the apprentice heard the thing talk. The voice sounded like a wind chime, neutral and sing-song. The apprentice didn’t want to listen to what it was saying. It clearly had bad intentions.

“THIS IS MY KINGDOM NOW. ACCEPT YOUR DESTINY AND TURN AROUND.”

The apprentice just kept running, and running, and not turning back. This wasn’t a home anymore. They didn’t know anything about the thing, but they knew the thing didn’t have good intentions. They knew their kingdom wouldn’t be a good place to be. Especially with the blood they felt on the ground.

And they did it. They ran all the way out. Perhaps they were tired, perhaps they thought they were safe, but they looked back. They’d never been anywhere else before.

A chain wrapped around their torso. Knocking them down, pulling them back into the kingdom, back with that… thing.

“YOU FOOLISH, FOOLISH CREATURE. YOUR DYING BLOOD WILL FLOW TO THE HIDDEN ONE, AND YOU SOUL WILL ROT IN YOUR COT FOREVERMORE. NO ONE WILL REMEMBER YOU. IT IS YOUR PURPOSE.”

The apprentice was terrified, they really were, but they didn’t show it. They knew damn well that no matter where this was going, they would die. But they knew the thing wanted them to bleed as they died. So maybe, if they died bloodlessly, they’d be safe from the… thing. They didn’t know, but they didn’t want this thing to have their soul. If they were right, perhaps they’d be somewhere safe, far away from this thing. Perhaps their mom would be there. Their knowledge of anatomy left them with one real option now, even if they were scared to die. It was on their own terms, at least.

Before the apprentice could fully be dragged back into the town, they wrapped their shaking hands around their own neck, and turned it as hard as they could.

“...what do you mean by finding myself? I’ve always known myself!” Dyo smiled, trying to ignore how much he only remembered after waking up here. That didn’t mean he wasn’t the same old Dyo. The entity’s head tilted.

“Alagadda used to not be a dream-state pocket world. It was a kingdom here once, until the Ambassador appeared. He changed people into caricatures of themselves obsessed with the king. Take yourself, for instance.” Dyo wasn’t smiling anymore. He could remember it now, figments of what Alagadda was. Blue sky. Their friend, the king’s child, a child around his age at the time, who he was close with, but disappeared one day, and then everything was foggy.

“When I knew you, you loved theater so much. You were so happy, I remember your smile so well, even after all this time. You wanted to be an actor. You became the court jester instead, suddenly obsessed with the king. It took a toll on you. You were miserable the last time I saw you, and when we met again today, I assumed you were warped so much that you were just… gone.”

Dyo remembered a lot more as they said this. The theater. There was a theater, where no actors killed themselves at the end. Where dying in the play didn’t mean anything for you. He had wanted to be there, with the actors themselves. They seemed to be having so much fun, and he’d practice his silly little improvised monologues to his friend. His friend, his only friend at the time…

They still couldn’t remember who this entity was. Strange. Maybe if he played his cards right, he could get the entity to jog his memory…

“I missed you. I mourned you. I, I should stop. This is a lot to take in-”

“No, please continue. Who, who was I, to you?”

It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, it didn’t have to matter! The king doubted this kid even existed, they didn’t have to be in the kingdom. It wouldn’t affect the plan at all. They were entirely optional, and had willingly thrown away a chance at eternity. Strange. They did not accept the purpose of being locked away forever. So they left the child to rot away, feasted on by bugs and crows.

The king was hanging at their throne again, twitching, faint breaths, but no words. The three lords and the court jester each also hanged in a different corner of the court, each noose done too tight, blood dripping from their necks. The Ambassador held up a golden cup, and blood, all of the blood throughout the entire kingdom, flowed into it. The Ambassador went to the twitching, shaking king, who began to slowly reach for the figure.

“WITH THESE, THEIR BLOOD, IT IS THE HANGED KING’S.”

They held up the cup for the king, who held it himself. He held the cup behind his veil, to his small, rotting lips. He began to sip from the cup.

And then he dropped it.

“...We were close, very close.” The entity said. Dyo simply waited for them to continue, but they didn’t.

“...And…”

“My apologies. I tend not to dwell on the past, considering how warped the kingdom has become, so I tend not to talk about it. No one has heard of the kingdom anyway.”

“Heh. Strange that I can’t remember you though. Can you turn into a bird or something?” the entity let out the smallest of laughs.

“No, no, I just was successful in leaving my old life behind.”

In all fairness, Dyo wasn’t entirely honest anymore. His disappeared friend and this mysterious person claiming to have been his friend… it couldn’t entirely be a coincidence. But something felt… off. Something else happened. This wasn’t just an Alagaddan who left, something changed about them. Sure, there was no influence from the Ambassador, but there was something else Dyo couldn’t put a metaphorical finger on. Maybe if they played their cards right, he could get the figure to reveal it. Reveal if they could be friends again.

“Well then, what’s your new life like? This boring old cave doesn’t really jog the imagination, you know?” Maybe they’d give away a God or two with the details.

“I seek to cure the pestilence.”

“For anyone in particular?”

“Humanity.”

“...Why, though?”

“I believe that curing such a horrible ailment is simply the right thing to do, and it is why I am still here.”

Ok this wasn’t going anywhere. Why they are still here, though…

“What do you mean, why you’re still here? What happened to you?”

The hanged king was dead, the hanged king was alive. The kingdom was dead, the kingdom was alive. No one was truly dead, and the only one truly alive was the Ambassador, the real one in control. Everything was on repeat. Everyone would go through the motions of partying, drinking, forever and ever. The kingdom didn’t exist and it did exist. It was somewhere else. No one back on Earth remembered it.

Everyone would go through their motions, like a play, of sorts. Everyone had their roles to play. The lords walked with the people, and the king wrigged and withered chained on his throne, but the Ambassador was the one in charge. It was like a dream for them. Everyone only remembered what they wanted them to remember, and that didn’t include that child.

That child… the Ambassador barely thought about them. They were dead. They were dead, and they’d never know what the kingdom became. That was that.

The Ambassador was intelligent. They knew everything that had gone done in the walls of the kingdom, the many that entered, the few who’d left. They had trapped another goddess, one of the moon, in a cycle of trying to destroy the king, being attacked and almost killed by them, before returning to the sky to rest, before coming down again once per year. They even had found a use for the prison meant to contain that child, keeping the bird who’d betrayed the queen in there before repeating the cycle. They knew a lot.

But they were not entirely correct about that child.

“Whatever do you mean by that, Dyo?”

“It sounds like something should’ve killed you, but didn’t. Whatever happened-”

“Enough about me. I am afraid I have come across much more selfish than I truly am, I do not wish to dwell any more on me, let alone my past.”

“No, no. Tell me what happened. Now.” Dyo was getting impatient. This being clearly was hiding something. Dyo didn’t like when things were hidden. He needed to know it all.

“No.”

“I don’t think you know what’s really happened to me, do you? I… I am royalty these days! You better explain exactly who you are now!” Dyo forced the body up, and stared down the being. They didn’t look like much, muscle-wise.

“No.”

“You have no one, do you? That’s why you’re all alone here. No one would miss you if I were to-”

The entity ripped the mask right off the body, cutting Dyo off.

“I really let myself hope…” it said. Its eyes were filled with fire. But now, Dyo felt a bit more… comfortable here. He could speak in the entity’s mind.

“How rude. I bet if your father cared about you he’d be very disappointed.”

Dyo couldn’t really see where the entity was taking him, but that remark seemed to make them go faster. Seemed to, as they were rather slow either way.

“Why are you gripping me so hard? I thought we were friends!”

“We were, yes. You have made it clear that we are not now.” They did loosen up a bit though. Nice to know Dyo had found a way under their skin.

“Didn’t you miss me?”

“Yes, and I still do. Here we are.”

They were back in that field. A couple of dark birds flew off as they arrived. Maybe they were the same ones from before, maybe not.

The entity left him on the ground, face down, before beginning to leave. Dyo could not believe this rudeness!

“Hey, don’t leave me like this! At least let me see the stars!”

The entity didn’t respond.

It all started unlike how most stories do, with a young human snapping their own neck in a final act of defiance towards a God. Said God had then returned to their kingdom, but the human had woken up somewhere else.

Said somewhere wasn’t too different from the place they left, but there were more trees, and there was no kingdom. Or was there? It was very dark, the person couldn’t tell. Was this what death was like? They slowly got up, putting a hand on a tree. No reason to stay here all alone, when they could explore this strange world. …Until he heard a coo behind him.

Turning around, they saw someone. A crow. The person let out a small smile.

“Hello,” Said the human. After everything that happened that night, it was nice to see something, anything familiar. They sat down in front of the crow.

And then it wasn’t a crow. It was a being wearing shadows like a robe over their pale body. Its gray eyes stared into the person, into all they ever were. Horrible and beautiful.

“Oh.” The human did not react with fear, or even shock. Strangely, the figure still brought them comfort. Perhaps the being had been there their whole life, under the appearance of the crow. Perhaps it was some sort of guardian angel. Or perhaps it was one strange coincidence. It didn’t matter anymore.

“GREETINGS.” A voice akin to if whispers in the darkness spoke loudly instead came from the thing.

The two simply sat there for a bit. Until they began to talk again. About the kingdom, and about the thing that warped it in its own image. About the thing that drove it. About the curse that was still in the human’s blood, even if they escaped the kingdom. Even if their mind was clean. This burning red malice, it still lingered in the kingdom. In humanity. And whether they liked it or not, the human was a part of this now.

A deal was struck there. The king was never correct about their child’s identity, they were never some spreader of disease sent by the brothers to torment the king. They were merely a child who wanted to help the people of Alagadda. But they were not a mere child anymore, and the people of Alagadda could not be helped anymore either. They were consumed by a plague of madness, one the human could never hope to stop with what they currently knew.

So, the human would perfect a cure to the madness of spilt blood, eradicate it, and then they would return to the darkness they were in now. Or die trying. This was to be the human’s purpose, to cleanse the red-stained madness, one they took without hesitation. Only once it was gone, or if the physical burden on their rotten form grew too much, should they return here. To be a savior, to free the people of Alagadda, and help this… thing, that the king was wrong to use as an insult, who was better family than the king. This was something that the human accepted.

…Oh, who am I kidding?

They were not human anymore.

Come on, where was it? They knew it was somewhere in this journal- aw, there it was, right at the beginning. A simple list of names. Not every name, just the ones they could remember. A collection of them, lined up neatly. So many still unaccounted for.

The people of Alagadda. All gone from life and from memory. They couldn’t hope to remember every single name, but they put the ones they could here, as a memorial. It was necessary, since they were the only one who could mourn Alagadda.

They had hesitated at first, reading his name again, but it was needed at this point. His name was one of the first ones written, as the memories of him were some of the fresher, even now. They were close once, very close. But he changed. Sure, the kingdom changed everyone, but once away from the kingdom, he was still much more cruel. They did not wish for any part of this man to be remembered anymore, but they couldn’t just erase it. They couldn’t erase that boy who saw he was having a bad day and created poetry on the spot just to make them feel better, playing in the flowers, laughing together…

The doctor crossed out Dyo’s name. Never again, not even in death. Never ever, ever again. That boy was gone.

…Though, they figured the old them was gone too. They were not a quiet child worried about a father who never looked at him with love. They couldn’t care less about the king anymore. They were helping people now. They were untraceable to the kingdom now, no one needed to know, no one, no one.

No matter. It still hurt, just how much the two had grown apart. Perhaps it was meant to be, the two being driven apart. Maybe they should’ve stopped being sentimental and smashed the damned mask to smithereens.

This was why they didn’t sleep that night. What if Dyo came back? What if somehow, he saw the light? Or what if he came back to attack them again, and they had another chance to crush him?

But all throughout the night, Dyo did not return. It was quiet. Under different circumstances, they believed it would have been calming. But they couldn’t relax, Dyo could show up again, or someone sick could show up at their door needing help.

But as the sun rose, no one showed up. A part of them was sad Dyo didn’t show up again, but they buried that part of themselves. Their time as a child, as an allagadan, ended centuries ago. They were a professional, a doctor, they couldn’t keep thinking about the past, there were people they needed to save.

[that-house]

how does one kill a god? like very practically what’s the best way to beat a god’s ass

now i ain't exactly versed in real world theology so the minutiae of actual mythological deicide are a bit lost on me. however i am a writer and a dungeon master who likes that sort of shit, so let's get into it.

i'm a sucker for stories where one option is overwhelming force. a truly staggering, horrifying amount of force. a brilliant flash of light, a sound that drowns out all thought, and when the smoke clears there truly is nothing less. depending on the needs of the story there may be an incredible cost to this, or horrible backlash, or a series of hoops that need to be jumped through first. but i do like the idea that a possible solution is just "fax god a turbonuke"

if that option was the physical option, it's time to talk metaphysical. the classic is destroying their powerbase: destroy their scriptures, convert or kill their believers, tear down their holy places. gods are nothing without someone to remember them. this is also how you functionally kill a god in real life, and it's called cultural genocide.

another option on the more metaphysical side of things is corrupting what they represent. urban sprawl kills the nature god. global warming strains the bonds between the gods of the seasons and the gods of winter will be extinct soon. with the advent of steel and aluminum and carbon fiber and kevlar, the god of iron is not what he used to be. this may be local, this may be global. nature still exists. it still snows. iron is still in use. but these gods are not the heavy hitters they once were, not everywhere.

if you don't have the power or influence to brute force a killing blow physically or metaphysically, there's still hope! challenge them to a contest of skill, wits, strength, whatever. crucially, you do have to win this contest or it goes badly for you. but one does not become a god without attaining some measure of pride, and the odds are decent they accept the challenge. make an ironclad agreement that favors you, the weak and pitiful mortal, and then be ready to cheat, lie, and steal your way through every loophole.

when fighting a god, it's not enough to stack the deck. merely stacking a deck just puts the cards in a useful order. gods don't become gods by losing. you're gonna need two more decks in your sleeves and a gun pointed at them under the table, but if you play your cards right, you'll find that the flesh of immortals is sweet and rich. bon appetit

[everlastiingiimmortals]

What would push Jing Yuan over the edge and result in him succumbing to mara?

(I'm sorry Willow I've been thinking about jy angst today ashdkgfk)

Unprompted. Always accepting!

HI RENNI!!! THANK YOU FOR THIS QUESTION I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT NONSTOP

So, obviously this is within the context of my main verse, because Jing Yuan's existing Marastruck!AU is. well. an AU. And this is going to sound absolutely awful, but not even Yanqing dying would send him spiraling.

That is, unless he saw Yanqing brutally murdered with no chance to defend himself. The same goes with Dan Heng, too.

The thing about Jing Yuan is that he is both very accustomed to death and has a very intimate understanding of the costs of the Alliance's war, as well as his own position. Jing Yuan has seen all manner of horrors and atrocities; he grieves, yes, but death is not something that fazes him. Death on the battlefield, though it is a tragedy, is also an honor. A senseless and brutal murder is horrific and cruel. If that were to happen to his loved ones and he couldn't stop it? Yeah. I think that'd tip the scales enough for him to start spiraling. It'd specifically be the cruelty and unjustness of it, which is another factor in why I think Jing Yuan was so upset to see Jingliu, knowing what she'd done to Yingxing's husk before the immortal body became Blade.

Another thing that could send him over the edge would be pushing far beyond his physical limit, more than he did with Phantylia; it happened with Jingliu, it happened with Blade. He would sacrifice his sanity for the sake of the Luofu if he really had to.

I'm gonna take this opportunity now to say that I actually... hesitate to say that Jing Yuan is capable of becoming mara struck, actually. Or rather, I worry that he has done something to prevent or considerably delay its onset. There are multiple instances of this being foreshadowed, from Phantylia asking how long he can last, to Blade's comment about him "knowing the price better than any of us" (to be taken with a grain of salt because he's a very very unreliable narrator), to Bailu's character story noting that Jing Yuan is in top shape and has not had any indication of mara setting in, to other characters straight up implying that Jing Yuan should be mara-struck by now. Jing Yuan is also frequently associated or depicted with symbols of mara and the Arbor: the strange little yellow bird spirits shaped like ginkgo leaves around the Arbor (in his White Day art), and ginkgo leaves themselves especially in his trailer.

Jing Yuan has a lot of secrets and it's evident that there is a lot we still don't know about him. Honestly, we know practically nothing. I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that he, too, had done something to try to prevent/delay the onset of mara, but it's not a theory I'm going to be expanding much on or establishing here just due to the sheer lack of information at my disposal.

@acr3ss-the-cosmos

[sweetblasphemy01]

An interesting description about the meaning of The Ballad of the Costa Concordia:

When Toledo came across news about the Costa Concordia disaster, he was deeply moved by the human tragedy that unfolded. The sheer scale of the incident and the loss of life compelled him to immortalize the event in a song, aiming to capture the collective grief and reflection surrounding it.

The lyrics paint a vivid picture of the chaos and despair experienced by the passengers, crew members, and their loved ones during the fateful moments of the disaster. It showcases Toledo's ability to create evocative imagery through his poetic storytelling, while still maintaining the emotional connection with the listener. The song's melody perfectly complements the haunting lyrics, adding another layer of depth to its profound meaning.

The narrator is in despair and cannot appear to find joy in life and instead of being angry and pent up with emotion he appears more an empty vessel unable to ‘sustain my anger’. Toledo uses the Costa Concordia ship metaphor to describe the ‘water filling up’ as potentially drowning the narrator in his own emotion with the ‘three hundred million dollars/To get me up tomorrow’ as a nod to the immense cost of the ship accident. Whilst the instrumentation starts off slow and almost secondary to the lyrical content of the song, as we approach the breakdown of the song the guitars and drums become more distorted and aggressive, bringing in a piano melody which attempts to guide the song back into line. The song plateaus and an interpolation of the Dido song “white flag” is used to much the opposite of how it was originally written; ‘I won’t go down with this shit’ and ‘I have lost, and always will be’ are just two of the altered lines which add a much darker implication then being in love. After this we get the spoken word section which sees the narrator taking on the role of the captain of the ship and taking claim of his ‘expensive mistake’ asking several ‘How was I supposed to…?’ questions which further develops the hopeless image of despair created so far. As the delivery of the vocals become more animated and faster the instrumentation follows suit and once again piano and guitar riffs draw into the final section of the song which begins just as Toledo declares ‘I give up’. After this we get a more contingent outro with a catchy but still distorted guitar leading the track. The verses structure sees Toledo quickly discussing everything from the current political state, the economy and ‘the denial of death’ by Ernest Becker interrupted occasionally by the crackling vocals of the second chorus ‘I give up’, this concludes the song but we still don’t feel the narrator is any better off than he was in his self-loathing state, despite having come to terms with his depression he still cannot be any more optimistic with the outside world giving him no comfort.

[coolrpblog]

PAST LIFE/SOUL

As this topic won in the poll it is time for some really fun deep lore on Klein laddies so sit and buckle up. First, we'll talk about the soul as that well later get into the past life better.

Klein doesn't have a normal soul. There's a fragment of an old soul that has attached itself to the new soul. Because of this, there are differences with how he looks compared to, well, we'll use the killer verse Klein as an example.

Klein vs the Spider lily Killer version of himself doesn't have the same hair color and their pupils are not the same in color as well. To add onto this Klein has a massive birthmark on his back that looks like something huge swiped at him from behind. Those are the biggest differences with looks. But another thing to add is Klein has much stronger reflexes than his killer counterpart and because of that if he's in any physical fights he seems to always counterattack with shocking speed.

However, because of the way the soul is, upon death the soul will split. But with that there is more that will happen on his death as the birthmark on his back is not just the mark of what killed his past life, but a curse. His death will have him have the same fate as his past self; to be erased by history to never be remembered.

Now onto the past life.

Many years ago, in Japan there existed a demon hunter by the name of Jun'ichi Yamamoto, he followed in his family's steps though he in time only started to kill select demons as he came to learn that not all demons are harmful and want to kill humans.

One of the most notable physical traits he had was the vivid red pupils that contrasted his emerald-green eyes. His hair was that of a dark greyish lavender. With scars that littered his body from past battles as well as a large burn over his left arm and shoulder.

He was known by everyone in his country, there were books written about him and a statue of him in one of the larger cities in the time.

Yet all that was known of him, including his bloodline was wiped, destroyed and gone in a day. Those that knew of the once brave samurai suffered memory loss or were found dead or remained missing to this day, and the few that may still know of him are either demons or immortals.

All this because he went to face a demonic false god on an island that costed him his life. The being ripped apart his soul, devouring a fragment of it while two other fragments drifted. One remaining in the blade he fought with and the other finding its way into the spirit world where it would remain and wait for the right time for an attempted at reincarnation.

It is lucky for him that the false god is bound to that island, though in years to come it shall set out its puppets to look for that soul that escaped, as it doesn't want even a fragment of that hunter to exist.

But the body of Jun'ichi...? It remains with the god, a soulless and lifeless puppet that will lay in wait for the day that fragment of his soul to return to that island where he will strike down that fragmented reincarnation of himself as the god wishes.

It is fitting for the soul to die where it originally split apart at after all...

[alexanderlightweight]

Hi, is Arawn is like Asmadeus or is he a nice parent?

İ hope it is the later because i know him for two seconds but i love him already 💙

hey! Arawn is super possessive of his kids like Asmodeus in this fic but he's not as shitty. he doesn't want them leaving his realm and he's more protective over Alec because Alec doesn't have any actual blood ties to him, just a magical one and Arawn is pretty pissed because Magnus did some stuff and got warlocks involved and now he has a stronger claim to Alec.

Arawn isn't a bad parent but he's not a good person and he'll do fucked up things to keep his kids safe, and the safest place for them is obviously with him.

in the 'ritual & souls' verse, the alec Magnus summons is actually the bio son of Arawn (and a trueblood) and he's quite literally running from his dad (not for himself though) because in that verse, Magnus challenged Arawn for Alec (he didn't have the same way to manipulate things as he did in this verse) and it cost him heavily. which is how alec gets summoned to another universe and uh, arawn is not happy about finding his son gone in that verse. AT. ALL.

in this verse things are more compliated.

alec isn't a warlock but he has magic. he's not a seelie but he has angel blood. his mundane blood no longer exists, instead wild magic clings to him and that's where his powers come from. because he was experimented on as a child, crossed time and space into the unseelie realm and then was raised there. he's immortal and powerful. he doesn't have runes thugh he does have unseelie tattoos.

magnus interfered and got the labyrinth involved because 'he has magic, he needs to be trained by warlocks' and there was a very big argument that involved the Council of Elder's petitioning Arawn to have Alec come study with them.

he didn't want to but 2. the unseelies have no idea how to help alec who shouldn't have magic, use it because it's so different from their own innate magic and as much as they all hate it, his magic is closer to warlock magic

yeah it doesn't go as planned and the council basically go 'oh right your son... so he's bonded to one of our elders now (aka magnus) and we're not giving him back' but in a less 'starting a war with a sentence way' and things get very complicated before they get better.

alec is very much unaware of most of this, he's deep in the labrinths hidden realms learning about his magick and honeymooning with magnus who still hasn't told him they're bonded yet and is working his way up to easing alexander into it.

magnus knew he had one chance to make sure Arawn couldn't keep alexander from him (he recognizes the similarities between arawn and his own father) and he wasn't going to risk losing alec. the council are just all thrilled to have someone who can wield wild magic and help them with research without severe repercussions since wild magic (not dominion magic) doesn't work well with personal magic.

except alec's personal magick isn't his own magick but the magick steeped in him etc

i hope this makes sense?

lumine

[eyes-blazing]

Sera Harper

Sera Roleplays + Sera Headcanon + Sera Vibes

Face Claim: Rose Leslie

Age: 40

Birthday: August 14th

Orientation: Straight

Height: 6 Foot 0 Inches

Eye Color: Green

Species: Phoenix-Human Hybrid

Main Verse: Marvel MCU

Distinguishing Marks: Claw mark brand on her left shoulder blade, large pure black wings, and a ring of scared skin around both her wrists from manacles.

Main Verse-

Found Brother: Clint Barton @prplhawk

Sera Harper was born in another world. Her father had died before her birth and her mother had died not long after, grief did funny things to people. The town she had been born into did not take care of its orphans, what good was feeding a body that couldn’t contribute? She was raised by the town just long enough to be worth selling to the slavers that passed through the port town.

Not that a three year old was worth all that much.

A scientist bought her, promising to take her to a place where she could help his government achieve greatness. She believed him because what else could a three year old do when an adult promised them safety. She soon found what a clever lie the man had told her, yes she would help the government achieve greatness but it would come at the cost of her body and mind. It took two years for the scientists to “prepare” her body for their experiments and another year her mind and at 6 years old she was strapped to a table and her DNA rewritten. They spliced the soul of a phoenix into her own, writing fire into her blood. They expected the small girl to burn like all the others. She knew this due to their surprise when she survived. Their surprise quickly gave way to excitement, they had done it, they had created their human weapon. Now they just needed to train her to use her fire.

Meditation let Sera speak to the phoenix they had bonded to her soul, let her learn that the fire was not meant to be a weapon, that killing using the fire would be an abomination. It was meant to heal, meant to protect. That she was now a healer and protector and that she must escape before they turn her into something she should never be. It took two years of going along with the training to come up with the escape plan, two years of being turned into a killer, and six months to late to keep her from killing with the fire. In a way it helped, the phoenix was more willing to take revenge since it was already too late to save them. They were damned no matter what now.

Melting the chains was the easy part. Hearing seventy people scream as they were burned out of existence was harder. Flying away was the hardest thing she had ever done. Her wings had never been used for distance, burned black feathers only carrying her far enough to get away. Sera crashed on a beach, passing out from exhaustion and her injuries, and was found by a small group of warriors. They brought her to the village and nursed her back to health and Sera Harper experienced genuine care for the first time in her life. She was taken in by a widower, raised in the culture and when she was able joined their warriors.

She was sixteen when she was sent into another world to train before making a hard decision. Her phoenix offered her immortality but first she had to know more of the worlds. She quickly fell in love with the world and the people she found there. She made her first friend in Clint Barton, the young man quickly becoming as close to her as a brother. As she trained and grew and lived she eventually met a man who simply went by Loki. Her phoenix fell hard for the god and at the age of twenty Sera Harper gave birth to twins Emrys-Aiden and Pyira.

At the age of 23 she made her choice, immortality to be with the man she loved and her children.

((MUN NOTE: As of right now I will be roleplaying Sera as still being in love with Loki. If the thread starts to lean towards ships and I may change somethings around.))

[darkestspring]

Do you think we could get a rundown of who and what your OCs are?

I’m new here and I don’t know where to start lol but they look interesting!

aelyra targaryen - she's alysanne and jaehaerys' second daughter, she was born in 54 AC, a year after daenaerys and she dies in 129 AC just a few minutes after viserys dies. she ends up marrying both aemon and baelon and she's the mother of rhaenys, viserys, daemon and an oc visenya ii.

visenya ii targaryen - she's aelyra and aemon's youngest child and the youngest all together. she has a bit of a romance with daemon in her younger years before he married rhea royce and she ends up married to cregan stark and becomes the lady of winterfell. she has a known hatred for alicent that she refuses to talk about.

baelon ii targaryen - he's the only child of daemon targaryen and rhea royce, this kind of came from the idea of 'what if rhea and daemon did have a child together'. in some verses, daemon knows about his son but doesn't know how to properly connect with a child that came from someone he hates and in other verses he never knows until rhea dies. baelon ends up in the care of viserys and alicent. he ends up becoming one eye instead of aemond and he has love interests in aegon, aemond, helaena. in the main verse he ends up married to a baratheon girl but sometimes he ends up married to helaena. in total he ends up having eight children. five with his baratheon wife and three with helaena.

diana royce-targaryen - she's the daughter of rhea royce and daemon targaryen. (you can find her intro post HERE)

cerise lannister - she's aegon ii's wife in this verse. she's the younger sister of tyland and jason lannister. she has a stern personality. she hates cheaters and gamblers. she has a bit of a manipulative streak and likes to egg people on because she thinks it's fun to see them angry. she has her own lion named, leopold.

vivian tyrell - the rose of highgarden, she ends up as daeron's wife in this verse. she's a lovely girl with an eye for flowers but she's also very skilled in the art of fighting and dislikes it when men other than her husband try to touch her. she's well versed in the art of poison.

eloise baratheon - she's the youngest baratheon sister, a very naive and innocent girl who has never actually seen the outside world because of her isolation at the hand of her father and sisters. she's the spitting image of her deceased mother, causing an obsession over her to form between her father and her sisters. eloise goes on to become aemond's wife after he becomes obsessed with her sweetness.

daella targaryen + daella iii targaryen - daella i targaryen was aegon, visenya, and rhaenys' youngest sister and ended up being aegon's thrid wife due to the obsession her older siblings held over her. she had four children with aegon who's fates remain unknown. daella herself dies in dragonstone, just a year before visenya.

daella iii targaryen is the fourth targaryen child, and alicent's second daughter. the soul of daella i entered her body after she was born a stillborn and that almost death in the eyes of the public caused alicent to develop paranoia and a deep obsession and possession over her youngest daughter. daella iii lives out her life under the obsession of her family while trying to navigate her surroundings.

ysilla martell - a princess of dorne that was fostered by king jaehaerys, she ends up married to baelon and has two children with him. ysilla is very standoffish, she uses jokes to hide how awkward she is when it comes to affection, she doesn't show her love very easily because she doesn't really know how so she just showers her loved ones in her wealth.

Daelaenys Targaryen - she's my immortal targaryen oc. daelaenys' mother was a skilled witch who was skilled in black magic. she performed a ritual that gave her daughter immortality at the cost of her own life. so daelaenys can't die, at all. trust her, she's tried everything and she's still living. she's daenys the dreamers great-great grandmother and now lives in seclusion after being kidnapped by visenya and then escaping. she lives in godswood. those who seek her out will never be able to find her. she's very cold and disgruntled. mushroom gave her the nickname of undying blizzard because of her white hair, colder than ice nature and her immortality.

Lisenya Targaryen/Little Dove: lisenya is the daughter of rhaenyra and ser criston cole. depending on the au, she either grows up as rhaenyra and laenor's child or she grows up and alicent or viserys' child.

in the latter au, alicent steals lisenya from her crib after she feels a deep connection with the child and lisenya grows up being loved and adored by the green. lisenya is a dragon dreamer but different than helaena, rather than dream about general events, lisenya only dreams about her future and can only remember it long enough to paint it and then she forgets it.

[insidi0summoved]

katherine pierce « @malka-lisitsa » cast a spell : 🌿🍒 〃 ⛧

The smirk directed at her was nothing short from wolfish, despite the way the gleam behind white and pale gray hues was filled with amusement, a hint of mirth even.  " Was that your idea ? "  Playful words as cold fingers reached for her jaw, tracing along it before they slipped to the back of her neck, closing around it in a firm grip.  He was playing with fire.  He leaned in, close enough to feel her breath against his lips, but not enough to touch.  " Trying to get taste to see if getting involved with a monster is worth it ? "

[lyrqxa]

thats you opportunity to elaborate why the song is ktc narinder go on..

sorry im so late to responding i got sidetracked by playing genshin for 7 hours

i cant vocalise why songs remind me of characters but the first verse is very narinder pre-game and the second is narinder main-game yk. sorry i Cannot pit my thoguhts into words LOLL

but its mainly the chorus that gets me thinkjng…

THIS VERSE ok so the first time around i like 2 think its referencing narinder during the cat hunt… “isnt this what you wanted” is like. mainly towards everyone mourning a cat they were close to (cough. leshy) and narinder being salty about it. “time sure feels like its running out” is more towards narinder’s looming fear of his eventual sacrifice… “just finish what you started” is narinder sort of accepting it in defeat

as the only non-god in his family he’s still regarded pretty highly but for no reason, hence “queen of nothing.” but even then hes killed and is just full of guilt of watching people hes befriended die hence he’s “wearing such a heavy crown”

for a different repeat of the chorus … AHHHH I CANT GO INTO DETAIL ABOUT WHAT GOES ON IN NARINDER AND ARIES’S FIGHT BUT IT SO FEELS LIKE THE FIRST THREE LINES narinder’s defense is “you Wanted me to start thinking for myself” and while he technically has all the tjme in the world as an immortal being he still feels so suffocated to finish his task as fast as possible… and here he is, finishing what he’s started

in the end he is the god of death, and the only god left (queen of nothing), but at what cost (wearing such a heavy crown)

wah wah wah i might make an animatic some day after j finish the fic if i remember….

[yourburdens]

　　FABLE DATABASE [ CLASSIFIED ] SUBJECT : 013 . CODENAME : THE BIG BAD WOLF . [ POWERS / ABILITIES : PART 001 ] .

HELLHOUND PHYSIOLOGY

hellhounds are connected to the underworld and are considered omens of death. as so, many of their attributes signal the end for others. starring into a hellhound's yellow eyes can immediately cursed that person to die. alternatively, hearing the howl of a hellhound can signal death approaching, or even cause death. malito's status as a were-hellhound simply combines some elements of a werewolf, hellhound and some vampiric attributes as well. he loses some of his abilities on the new moon, requiring him to slumber. alternatively, he transforms into his true form on the full moon. he survives mostly off of blood and flesh via biting, breaking the skin and consuming or by cutting and bloodletting.

his religion's concept of the underworld is rooted in fire, thus he possesses flame and dark flame abilities, the latter having non of the weaknesses of earthbound or manmade flames. his true form is one of three heads, many eyes and many teeth, being that his mother is the cerberus of legend. in this form, his body is made of soot and flame and will ignite anything it touches if he wills it so. in terms of urban legends, he is closer to fenrir, the wolf large in stature and capable of killing the god, odin. unlike his mother, whose goal was always to protect the gate of the underworld first and hunt souls second, malito in true form is a hunter first, trailing after powerful deities with the goal of setting the world ablaze.

in his fable verse, he is meant to take over as the big bad wolf in place of his mother, malo, known as ' the omen ' , so that she can return to the underworld. from her, he has inherited the following abilities:

absolute disaster manipulation — the ability to manipulate the limitless and ultimate disasters. just like real death, tragedy will strike in the bitter end. inevitable death.

underworld path / hell gate — the ability to create pathways to hell. the ability to also navigate the underworld.

pyrokinesis / fire manipulation / flame body / flame embodiment

supernatural conditioning / durability / immortality

supernatural strength

curse inducement

death inducement

fear inducement

immunity to madness / chaos magic / mind control

regenerative healing factor

enhanced senses / darkvision

as well as some abilities of his own as fenrir:

absolute condition — stacks with his enhanced conditioning. he's incredibly strong in a way that rivals gods, is hard to knock down, extremely athletic and with a bite so strong that it can break bones and pierce through anything, including rip holes through reality itself. he is skilled in many forms of unarmed combat and defense including a proficiency with bladed weapons. increased agility and dexterity as well as endurance, stamina and leap. he is skilled in reflexes and precision, as well as speed.

cosmic hunger — not only having hunger on a cosmic scale, but the ability to consume cosmic beings.

digestive shapeshifting — the ability to transform into or gain the attributes of someone after consuming a part of them.

infinite consumption — if left unchecked, he will continue to devour with a spirit of gluttony until all of eternity is consumed.

dimensional travel — once marked as prey for him, he will hunt throughout different dimensions, timelines and realities to search for you.

a part of taking over for his mother is now being involved in the agreement that she has with the tricksters that make deals at the crossroads. a deal at the crossroads will cost a person their soul. when it is time to collect on those deals, the hellhounds come to take your soul. namely, him. he transforms and gives chase until he returns with that soul gripped between his teeth. this ability, known as soul hunting, allows him to see and track humans and spirits with his senses. in his true form, he is also invisible to the human eye.

[mmriesoftvat]

kami's HS.R verse ramblings!

i was playing through on my restarted account last night, and i'm still in the luofu storyline. but MAN, i got so much muse and inspo for kami's role in the world.

so i told this to A before, but i never made a post on dash. but remember how i said that kami was on the run from the very organization that created him? i've since decided that it was sanctus medicus that created him as a puppet to store their secrets and history. and while i was playing last night i was hit with even more inspiration, because a lot of stuff legitimately lined up for me.

basically, i can see kaminari as a rogue puppet who refuses to step foot on the luofu for fear that they might destroy him. but on top of that, kami would also be afraid to go anywhere for fear of people finding out what information and secrets he has storied inside him. he can't actually do anything, and he can't even access the information inside of him for himself. he'd require someone to fix him up a bit to access the secrets from the cultlike organization.

but that's not to say kaminari is completely ignorant. he's well aware that the longterm goal is to give people a botched version of immortality at any cost, and the idea terrifies him. it doesn't effect him, as he is a puppet, and probably destined to live a very very long time anyway. but STILL.

his only salvation is to basically hide out with the other stellaron hunters, with or without their permission. or he'll sometimes sneak aboard the express and hide out with the other nameless. but kaminari won't go to other planets, and he's terrified of those aboard the luofu, especially general jing yuan.

because while they may not be enemies technically, kami was still built by people and carries secrets that makes the long-lived folk a mara-struck life. and to kami, that's an awful punishment.

[necrorotted]

wei wuxian is a xianzhou native, orphaned after the ship he was born on was destroyed. both his parents perished in this accident. he was rescued by the luofu knights, and was effectively homeless on the flagship for a short time, before being taken in by the jiangs.

the jiangs follow the path of the hunt. it's sort of viewed as a tradition among their family-- and wei wuxian was to be trained and raised to be much the same as them. which, went pretty smoothly actually, until it didn't.

despite his adoptive family's stance on things, and their devotion to the hunt and their fight against the abundance-- wei wuxian does all he can to study and understand other paths. as well as the aeons who lead them. including yaoshi and the abundance, which was... considered taboo by his family.

the more wei wuxian studied and explored, the more he came to understand that the abundance was not evil. rather, that ( despite suffering from this gift of a long life ) it seemed quite fair that immortality would have such a heavy cost. and in a very strange twist of fate and irony-- wei wuxian would feel drawn to the very path and aeon his family loathed so deeply. not only following the path of abundance but also, becoming an emanator of yaoshi.

he would be discovered unfortunately. a slip up, wei wuxian having been very stressed, after members of the cult sanctus medicus approached him about joining their ranks. multiple times even. it was after a conflict with his adoptive brother, that wuxian would go missing for 13 years.

after all that time, he would return!! under the same name, still an emanator with a wealth of knowledge. and an understanding of his path that he credits to that time on his own. when asked to talk about what he'd been doing all that time-- he explains he cannot remember. or that he doesn't wish to discuss the past.

wei wuxian never parts with his flute, and can use it to manipulate mara in a very broad sense. he understands mara, and accepts it onto himself as a consequence of immortality. ( a potential reason yaoshi's gaze was drawn to him to begin with). he still strives to learn all he can of it, and understand it. and potentially find some way to cure people of mara in the future. his status as an emanator helps a lot with this goal of his, and can be used to slow it's effects in cases caught early on.

as in all verses, wei wuxian has a phobia of dogs.

at current, wei wuxian is a trailblazer. experiencing what the universe has to offer him, and learning everything he can about mara. as well as providing what he can to those who truly need help.