#you can not stop the decay with all your advancments

[magdeleinas]

pls someone ask me about my alien fic/book-I-want-to-write-and-then-sell-to-the-alien-people plsssss I'm beggingggg

[littjara-mirrorlake]

The Color of Hope: Ambition, Necromancy, and Black Mana

Black is one of the most misunderstood colors in Magic: the Gathering, not least because it appears on the surface to be so straightforward. Look at the most iconic black cards of Magic and you'll see deals with demons, necromancy, mass destruction and cruelty and suffering–the trappings of classic fantasy evil. Even the color's symbol itself is a skull, a universal signifier of death and danger.

And in early Magic that seemed to be all it was. White was the color of Fantasy Good, black was the color of Fantasy Evil, and the rest of the colors were... fire magic? Elves? Whatever odd but intriguing skeleton affairs are implied by Time Walk?

Gradually, though, Magic deepened as both a game and a storytelling medium. The color pie grew into itself as a system of complementary philosophies, archetypes whose associated aesthetics were only part of the full picture. Their arrangement around the wheel, below, is highly deliberate; neighboring colors are said to be allies with a high degree of philosophical and mechanical overlap, while colors on opposite sides of the pie are known as enemies, more likely to disagree on fundamental levels.

Black stopped merely representing capital E Evil and became the color of striving for power; unlike its peers, black felt that nothing, least of all morality, could prevent it from seizing what it wanted. Mark Rosewater's 2015 article about black emphasized the color's focus on the self:

"Black's philosophy is very simple: There's no one better suited to look after your own interests than you... Many costs require the sacrifice of others for your own advancement. Because it puts itself first, black is always willing to make this trade. The weak must fall for the strong to thrive." -Mark Rosewater

At its worst, black is an exploitative, amoral color that prioritizes itself at the expense of all others, allowing the "weak" to fall and scorning the very idea of compassion. Rosewater writes that black is "always willing" to trade others for itself. And these can certainly be parts of black's philosophy, when taken to its worst possible extremes, but they're far from the entire story.

Over time, Magic's outlook on black gained nuance. Magic story introduced protagonists like the necromancer Liliana Vess, whose craving for immortality, seemingly exploitative nature, and demonic deals called back to the oldest portrayals of black–and yet she was not one-dimensionally evil. She underwent character development over the years, learning the value of reclaiming herself and standing beside others, and at no point did she become any less mono-black for it. Remember her; we will come back to Liliana and her story later.

In addition to the usual death and decay, black cards began to feature a theme of relentless devotion. On the plane of Eldraine where each color represents a virtue, black's is persistence, explicitly as important as any other color. On the plane of Ikoria, the love between bonder and beast pulls Winota back from the brink of death. Wherever this Oathsworn Vampire printing is set, its flavor text is quintessentially black. It's the same self-driven attitude as before, but cast in a different light: black is nothing if not persistent when it's got its heart set on something (or someone) it cares about. Nothing, least of all the grave, will keep it down. After all, black will always come back for its own.

These newer cards uncovered the true face of black as a color capable of both great love and harm (sometimes even the latter for the sake of the former), and suggested a tantalizing new thread: perhaps putting yourself and yours first isn't all that bad, necessarily. Black is a deeply protective color; it says you don't just have to accept what you're handed, it's okay even to be furious about it (hello, ally color red), but let that galvanize you to do something about it. 

Vraska, a gorgon who faces extreme discrimination on her home plane of Ravnica, triumphs by reclaiming herself, gorgon powers and all–and even more radically, loving herself. She displays traits often considered the purview of white and green, such as a love of home and a drive to elevate the oppressed, but they are all filtered through the lens of her black alignment. Vraska staunchly refuses to deny herself or her people, the Golgari Swarm, of their value. Nor does she allow law or propriety to prevent her from championing them by any means necessary–even if that means cold-blooded murder, or aligning herself with a villain like the Planeswalker Nicol Bolas.

"[Vraska] thought of Mazirek, of the kraul, of the rest of the Ochran assassins and the malignant Jarad who reigned with casual ruin over the most downtrodden of the downtrodden. She remembered her years of isolation, and the heinous cruelty of the Azorius, and how no group deserved to suffer as much as those who would subjugate her own. Eliminating that hell was all she ever wanted." -The Talented Captain Vraska, Alison Luhrs

Like Vraska, black loves fierce and hard, willing to break any taboo for the sake of those it cares about. And it whispers, the entire way through, you are enough. You deserve better. No matter what others may say or do, you are enough.

"If I am to be met with disrespect, then I must first love myself with a fierceness no fool can take away." -Vraska in Pride of the Kraul, Alison Luhrs

Even black's "ruthlessness" isn't as fundamentally cruel as it appears, centering a passion for problem-solving (shared by its other ally blue) instead of a blunt disregard for others.

"People don’t understand the word ruthless. They think it means 'mean.' It’s not about being mean. It’s about seeing the bright, clear line that leads from A to B. The line that goes from motive to means. Beginning to end. It’s about seeing that bright, clear line and not caring about anything but the beautiful fact that you can see the solution. Not caring about anything else but the perfection of it." -K. A. Applegate

All of this comes together to make a black a color not of evil but of strength, integrity, and persistence. And that's all well and good, but I'm going to take it even further and put forward a new proposition: that black is the color of hope.

Of the nine mono-black Magic cards with "hope" in their names, all but Liliana portray black as an instrument of hope's destruction. This is, once again, black's flaw taken to its extreme–crushing others to achieve its own ends–but neglects black's own relationship with hope.

Black, more than any other color, requires hope to stay alive.

For black to persist, it must believe in a light at the end of the tunnel, a future in which its goals are realized. As long as it does, it will endure any hardship, walk through fire, and turn reality itself upside down on its way there. Primal, desperate ambition is the engine of hope that burns at the heart of black, keeping it always one step ahead of stagnation. Bitter and stubborn, black believes tomorrow will come because there is no other choice. After all, for black to relinquish hope is to let itself wither, regress, and die–an unacceptable outcome. 

Thus, it is monumentally difficult to strip black of hope. That only makes it all the more crushing when it happens, when black contends with the idea that there is nothing it can do.

Black's deepest, darkest fear is helplessness.

Like any mono-black character, Liliana Vess is driven at her core by a seething, desperate hope. When Liliana first unlocks her necromantic power, it is out of a sheer refusal to allow her ill brother Josu to die, even when the esis root that would cure him is destroyed by enemy witches in an undead-raising ritual. She defies her previous training as a healer, which taught her only to take the safe path, in favor of a higher-risk and higher-reward approach: stealing life from the witches themselves to restore power to the esis root she needs. It is her knowledge that her brother needs her, and her sheer stubborn will to succeed, which allows her to defeat the witches against steep odds.

"Six foes, and Liliana stood alone. But Josu's life depended on her, and the power blossoming within her was more than enough." -Liliana's Origin: The Fourth Pact, James Wyatt

Tragically, however, Liliana's attempted cure goes horrifically wrong, transforming Josu into an undead being plagued by eternal suffering. In his pain, Josu attacks Liliana. For a while Liliana holds out hope, finding the power to fight back while she determinedly searches for a spell to reverse the harm she's done. It is when she realizes this isn't possible that her strength falters.

"All this time, she had believed… that she could turn the power of death to the service of life and health. That a healer should use every tool at her disposal. But Josu was the result, a horrible fusion of life and death, and all her spells meant to manipulate the life force of the living could do nothing to harm the dead." -The Fourth Pact

Liliana learns that even her own dark magic, fueled by determination, cannot solve the problem she's created. She discovers the hard limit of her willpower, and the despair of this discovery is what causes her Planeswalker spark to ignite.

At this time Planeswalkers are as gods, immortal and near-omnipotent. Liliana spends decades enjoying this affirmation of her capability before the Mending strips her and all her peers of their power, reducing them once again to mortal mages.

"Then the Multiverse reshaped itself, robbing her—and every other Planeswalker—of the godlike power they once had wielded. Some called it the Mending, as if something broken had been repaired, but to Liliana, it seemed the opposite. It broke her beyond any hope of repair." -The Fourth Pact

Once again, it is Liliana's fear of helplessness and her refusal to accept it that drives her to push beyond the bounds of propriety–this time, to make a pact with Nicol Bolas and four demons to maintain her immortality. It is not enough for her merely to delay death; she requires the security of knowing she is fully beyond its reach, that she will never be helpless before it again as she was with Josu.

"Holding death at arm's length for whatever years are left to me? No, that's not enough. I want to be free of its shadow." -Liliana in The Fourth Pact

Black isn't like its enemy colors white and green, which are superficially associated far more often with hope. Unlike white, it doesn't believe that conviction, justice, and community will bring about rightness. Unlike green, it doesn't trust in the wisdom of the world or the natural order. Black believes that nothing will change unless you make it change; ultimately, black's self is the only one it can trust to bring about the world it needs. In addition, black lacks its enemies' idealism. Instead, it strives to be a pragmatic realist, making a final assessment of defeat all the more definite and crushing.

While white and green are more amenable to finding hope and holding it aloft as a banner, black claws hope desperately to its chest with shredded, bloody fingernails. Every ounce of hope black has, it tore by itself from the clutches of an uncaring world.

Ironically for such a self-driven color, black's fierce hope is the greatest asset it can provide to others–on its own terms, of course. It was Liliana who turned the tide of battle against the Eldrazi titan Emrakul, defiant in the face of cosmic despair. And when Nicol Bolas made his bid to return to godhood, using Liliana's necromancy to command his undead hordes, Liliana finally turned against him. In reclaiming her power, so too did she use it to free her fellow Planeswalkers from Bolas' assault. Her fear of helplessness no longer shackled her to him; agency and autonomy were hers at last.

The triumph of black, its moment of ultimate victory, is the hard-won fulfillment of its hope.

"Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light." -Dylan Thomas

An aetherborn, railing against the shortness of their natural lifespan, constructs a new body for themself with their own bare hands. An artificer's grief over her lost companion causes her to push invention to its limits. A young girl who loves her brother calls on the darkest of powers to save him. As it turns out, necromancy–that original thematic keystone of black–is only one of black's many, many refusals to let go of love and hope once it has them, even in the face of the ultimate end.

Time and time again, black–in love with life, ablaze with hope–looks the Grim Reaper in the eye and tells it: "Not today."

[myusuchaa]

Ikemen Villains: Ghost House Report - Elbert Greetia 100K Love Points Story

from the 2024 summer story event

FYI has themes of afterlife, spiritual, some r18 stuff

this is a fan translation. i do not own anything. Cybird reserves all ownership to in-game content.

₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎˚୨୧︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

This mansion, which is rumored to be haunted, might be the base of criminal activity.

We came to investigate as part of Crown’s mission.

I chose to work with Lord Elbert. It was within minutes of starting the investigation that I realized this place was truly haunted.

Elbert: Kate, be careful where you step. It seems the floorboards are aging and have become brittle.

Kate: Thank you very much Lord Elbert.. but.. more importantly….

Every time he advances down the hallway, a ghost approaches him.

Ghost of a woman with braids: My… what a beautiful man.

Ghost of a guy with mustache: Ah, yes… that melancholy profile… I can hardly take it.

Ghost of a thin woman: More.. to be.. by your side…

It’s hard to believe, but Elbert’s beauty seems to attract even ghosts.

(So many ghosts…. It’s scary..)

(But I can’t say that out loud. I have to keep an eye on him until the end of the mission so that nothing bad happens to him.)

In contrast to myself - who was incredibly nervous next to him - Elbert moved down the hall gracefully, despite there being so many ghosts surrounding him.

We stopped at the door of the innermost room when he turned to me.

Elbert: Kate, why don’t you start searching each room one by one?

Kate: Uh.. E-.. Lord Elbert.. there are so many ghosts.

Kate: Are you feeling sick in any way?

(Something strange was bound to happen with the ghosts being so clingy.)

Elbert: Ah… at this moment, nothing in particular.

He looks at me and suddenly smiles.

Elbert: There’s no need to worry. I’m used to being surrounded like this.

Elbert: What’s more, ghosts don’t have shadows. I don’t have to worry about stepping on them.

Elbert: It makes it easier to move than usual… it feels nice.

Kate: Heheh… that is true.

(No matter who he is surrounded by, he’s always wary of making the other party sad.)

His kind smile makes me smile too.

Elbert: … I’m glad you smiled.

Elbert took my hand in his.

Elbert: I’m here with you… you’ll be okay.

Kate: Ah… thank you, Lord Elbert.

(He was also concerned about me being scared of the ghosts.)

I’ve been saved by his smile.

(I still need to be vigilant, but since he’s with me, I don’t have to be so scared.)

After seeing that I calmed down, Elbert stopped and opened the door to the room in front of us.

Then-

-a man and woman standing in the center of the bedroom turned to look at us at the same time.

(!! There’s people in a place like this?!)

(Wait— no… they’re also ghosts.)

Their outlines are a bit more distinct than others, but if you look closely you could tell they were slightly transparent.

It’s an out of body experience.

Sexy woman ghost: Oh?? Why you’re so… so beautiful!

Ghost of young man: Finally, I’m glad to see you.

Elbert: ……………

(Although I’m no longer surprised by seeing ghosts… they speak as if they were waiting to see him.)

Sexy woman ghost: All my waiting was worth it to enjoy this!

The eyes of the woman ghost were sparkling at Elbert.

Kate: !!

Elbert: Eh…

Elbert was unable to move, as if he was in a bind.

The ghosts following us suddenly burst forth.

Ghost of a woman with braids: Oooh!! He has such a beautiful figure too!

Ghost of man with mustache: Aaa, aah aaaahhh..!!! I can look at you forever! I must draw you in this!!

Ghost of a thin woman: Ahhh you must join us!

Sexy woman ghost: Hah.. hmm, the ghosts of this mansion are quite lovely aren’t they?

Sexy woman ghost: A human as beautiful as a bisque doll, huh..

Sexy woman ghost: But humans eventually grow old, their bodies decay, right?

Sexy woman ghost: Though the soul.. the soul remains unchanged no matter how many decades pass!

Sexy woman ghost: Why, look at me! I’m as beautiful as ever!

The ghost of that woman who was pleading to him slowly approaches Elbert and whispers seductively in his ear.

Sexy woman ghost: That’s why… you should stay here..

Sexy woman ghost: Would you like to keep that beautiful figure…. and have fun with us?

Kate: Wh- what did you say…

Ghost of young man: Don’t you understand?

A male ghost suddenly cuts in.

Ghost of young man: This woman is right. No matter how beautiful you are, human bodies have a physical limit..

Ghost of young man: If you become like us… you can be with the person you love forever.

Ghost of young man: Isn’t that right, my love?

Sexy woman ghost: Indeed, my soul is unchanging- my love is unchanging!

Sexy woman ghost: Be with the one you love for all eternity!… there is no greater happiness!!

Elbert: The one I love… to be with them forever… an unchanging..love…

Elbert: ……..with Kate…….. forever…….

Elbert: ……….it may be nice.

Kate: Elbert?!-

I felt an unusual presence, and suddenly the room filled with more ghosts.

(What? Ghosts from all over the mansion have come to this room?)

Sexy woman ghost: Heh.. if it’s been decided then..

Sexy woman ghost: ..would you like to join us now?

With that statement as the signal, ghosts emerged from all angles.

It was as if all of them were welcoming in a friend.

Elbert: !….

All the ghosts cling to Elbert, and before I knew it our hands were torn apart.

Kate: Aah!!

The ghosts piled on top of each other around him like one huge mass.

Elbert stood in the center of them, completely covered.

Kate: No!! I don’t want that, you can’t do this! You can’t take him!

I jumped into the mass of spirits, and desperately grasp for Elbert.

My arms reach around him as he stands there, swaying.

Elbert: ..Kate!

Elbert’s gaze met my eyes with a startled look.

Ghost of young man: Ah, of course you too.

Kate: !!!!

(Shit! I’ll become a spirit too!)

Ghost of young man: You’re going to spend eternity with him. Aren’t you happy?

(……ha.. that may make me happy, but not like this… )

(I can’t let it happen.)

It felt like the very core of my body was being sucked into a vacuum.

I felt myself losing consciousness but tried to stay awake with all my might.

Kate: …E..El-…. El… Elbert..

— even if my resistance was futile

These arms that are holding him… I’ll never let go.

Elbert: ……………

Elbert: … I have no intention of becoming your “friend”.

Kate: !

Elbert: I ….. want to spend my time with Kate in this world.

Elbert: Kate, I …… I can feel the warmth of your hands.. in this world.

Kate: -Elbert!!

He casts a sharp gaze at the ghost lovers.

Elbert: So please… stop this.

Sexy woman ghost/ghost of young man: Kyaah-!/ Wha-?!

With those words from Elbert’s voice, the ghosts were blown back by a terrible force.

At the same time, the pile of spirits that became one body began to disintegrate.

Mass of spirits: !! ~

As soon as the screams of the ghosts disappeared, the room fell silent.

Ghost of young man: Tch, well, well….

The ghost form of the young man had come back together by the side of the woman ghost.

Ghost of young man: It seems they like it as they are.

The man smiled mischievously and fell against the desk.

The woman puffed out her cheeks at this remark.

Sexy woman ghost: Hmmph.. pfft, and here I thought I’d have fun doing this and that with such a beautiful person.

Kate: ! ?

Ghost of young man: ..You wouldn’t have any fun anyway if you forced someone to join, would you? Besides…. you have me.

Sexy woman ghost: Ah.. yes. Can you satisfy me today, too?

Ghost of young man: Why of course. Let’s go to the next room.

Sexy woman ghost: Hehe…. Well. You two take your time.

The woman shoots a sultry look at the man before they disappear into the white walls.

The room fills with silence once again.

Kate: …what in the world just happened?…

Elbert: ….. I don’t know. But..

Elbert hugs me tightly.

(Ah-)

Elbert: We’re certainly still alive, I'm here.

Kate: ….Elbert

My anxieties and fear welled up as I buried my face in his chest.

In response, his arms wrapped around me stronger.

Kate: I’m so glad you’re safe.

Kate: I wondered what to do if you did become interested in being a ghost.

Elbert: …..I’m sorry I made you worry.

Elbert: …Being with you forever, a future like that….. it is one of my wishes. So I did consider it.

Elbert: But just then, I felt your touch… and I decided not to choose that.

Kate: From my touch?

Elbert: Your hand that touched me was so warm.

Elbert: Your warmth which I love.

Elbert: The moments that you hold me and love me…. I can’t let go of them.

When I saw him smile, I felt even warmer.

Elbert: I feel like it’s a shame I missed the chance to be with you forever….

Elbert: I haven’t given up on that sentiment though… I’ll keep searching for a way.

Elbert: I will forever seek out everything that concerns you.

Kate: Elbert…

(Looking for a way to stay with me forever is the same as continuing to seek my existence.)

I will gladly answer his greedy calling with all my being.

Elbert: … Kate.

Elbert: I want to feel more of your warmth.

Sea-blue eyes laced with heat start to approach me-

Kate: Nn-…

His moist lips meet mine, and he slips his tongue inside.

The silence in the room was painted over by the sound of water as we sought each other's bodies.

With a thud my back slammed against the wall, I felt his palm trace upwards on my thigh, sliding under my dress hem.

Kate: Unn… El… Elbert..

Elbert: Your facial expressions, your voice…. give me everything.

Kate: Aah-

One of my legs was suddenly lifted—

A hot and throbbing, swollen feeling was pressed against my sensitive spot, moistened with anticipation.

(I can feel him… his heat.. his essence.)

Elbert: At this moment….. I want to steal your beautiful self, I want to take you away…

I give in to the pulsating heat and his dripping breath-

-and lost myself in a beautiful dream.

—

I tried to support my back, which was feeling weak.

As I was leaning against Elbert for support, trying to catch my breath:

Sexy woman ghost: …ah hehehehe… you showed me something nice indeed.

Kate: UH!???

The ghost of the woman from earlier was peaking through the wall, only half of her body was visible.

(They…. They saw??!!?!)

Elbert: ….. you’re still here.

Ghost of young man: Oh we just wanted to make sure you guys were satisfied.

The ghost pops out of the wall.

(Even.. a man… saw..)

I feel so embarrassed I simply want to disappear.

Sexy woman ghost: ……ahhh I’m jealous of you. Heyyy, I want to feel you toooo.

She says this as she turns to the male ghost.

Sexy woman ghost: I want to make passionate love to you just like these young kids.

Ghost of young man: If that is your wish…. Shall we go to the next life?

Sexy woman ghost: To meet you again…. I’ll definitely find you. That’s my promise.

Ghost of young man: Ah, of course.. I will find you. That is my promise as well.

The two forms become one, and they shine brighter in that moment.

Then, they were gone.

Suddenly the air in the room becomes lighter.

Kate: ….. this means they.. passed on?

Elbert: Mm, most likely…

(The words of that woman had deeply swayed me. It seems certain that they truly desire each other.)

Kate: Those two… I hope they can find and love each other in the next life.

Elbert: …. Ah. I hope so.

As he said that, a kiss fell on my neck. The heat within me stirred.

Kate: Nn! Lord Elbert!….. we’re still on a mission…

(Because just a while ago… I was so caught up by him..)

Elbert: …even on missions, I need to take breaks.

I tried to gently push him off, but it led nowhere. He kissed me on the nape of my neck, then on my cheeks.

An achingly sweet feeling arises.

Elbert: You look beautiful even when you’re troubled like this. I can’t get enough of you.

Elbert: I want you as you are now.

Kate: Nn..

My lips were bitten, stolen without asking.

(I feel the same as you.)

Eventually we may end up like those ghosts, in a world I don’t know, two spirits as one.

(So while I’m still alive… while I’m in this body… I want to feel his skin, his warmth, to the fullest.)

Intertwining, mind and soul, savoring each other’s existence.

We’ll enjoy this lifetime, together.

₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎˚୨୧︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

[thesightstoshowyou]

Shoot for the Moon

Bo Sinclair X GN Reader

Warnings: None. Just fluff. Who am I?

~~

Keys jingle as you cut the engine. The thrum ceases and a moment of tranquil silence passes before the nighttime sounds rise to life all around. Crickets and frogs chirp, night herons splash, a barred owl calls. Cypress, oak, and maple trees creak and rustle in a gentle breeze. Car door hinges squeal as you slip from your vehicle and your boots swish in tall grasses as you make your way to the trunk.

Carefully, you unpack the telescope, flashlight, guides, and notepads. The scents of damp earth and decaying wood wash over you as you move. Already, the oppressive Louisiana humidity sticks your hair to your forehead, yet you wear a jacket and jeans to protect your limbs from mosquitos and ticks.

Satisfied with a small, nearby clearing, you meticulously set up your equipment. You peek through the eye piece and adjust the telescope’s position incrementally. Little flashlight clutched between your teeth, you scratch notes on the illuminated portion of paper before repeating the process.

An hour or so in, you abruptly surface from the lull of peaceful concentration. At first, you’re not certain what distracts you, but then you recognize the silence. All the wildlife has gone quiet, disturbed by something close by.

You frown and quiet your own breath, tilting your head to listen intently. To your left, a sharp snap; twigs underfoot. Something stalks through the brush, just out of sight.

A bear, maybe, or a stray dog. Your mind whirs with the possibilities, but you will yourself to stay calm. Nothing you can’t handle.

However, when a man emerges from the tree line, your heart stutters. Fear and confusion take root in your brain and you must consciously fight back the panic to keep your thoughts clear.

Where the hell had he come from? There isn’t a town or house around for miles, as far as you’re aware. You’d carefully chosen this particular spot for that very reason.

The man saunters toward you, hands buried in the pockets of the deep blue coveralls he wears. His pace is leisurely, every step measured and deliberate, meant to instill dread. You can’t make out the details of his face through the gloom and the cap perched atop his head does you no favors.

“Yer out here awfully late,” he notes, the pleasant drawl of his voice disturbing the hush of the clearing. He nods toward the crescent moon hanging low in the sky as though you need his help to tell it’s nighttime.

“Could say the same about you,” you respond, slipping the flashlight into your palm. You could blind him if he gets too close.

He stops his advance about twenty feet away, head tilting slightly as he studies you and your equipment. “Folks out this late don’t often have the best intentions.”

Pot, meet kettle. You resist the urge to call him out and instead motion to your telescope. “Just star gazing. I wasn’t aware this was private property. I’ll go—

“Nah, s’not private. Yer good, sugar.” He takes a few steps closer. The muscles in your shoulders tense. You swallow thickly, mind racing. What now?

You speak before you can stop yourself, “I, uh, I just found Saturn. It’s nice and clear tonight. Wanna see?” The man stops abruptly, obviously taken aback. He’s silent for a moment, contemplating.

“…Yer serious?” he questions. His steps are tentative now, cautious. You caught him off guard, it seems.

Roll with it. “Yeah!” You wave him over and allow the excitement to take control of your vocal cords, “And the Milky Way is so pretty right now. We can look at that next….”

He’s close enough now that you can make out the incredulous expression on his face…his very handsome face. The scents of engine oil, burnt grease, and metal hit you and the outfit suddenly makes sense. Still, you question why he’s out for a midnight stroll in such a remote area wearing his work garb.

You scoot out of the way and instruct him to look through the eye piece. He shoots you one more skeptical glance before carefully leaning over and peering into the telescope. You smell him now too: Cigarette smoke, faint aftershave, and woody musk that is not at all unpleasant.

You watch the exact moment the man spots the planet. What you can see of his face lights up and he shifts his body in toward the telescope, hunching more to get a better angle through the eyepiece. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs, hand coming up and hovering over the finderscope, hesitant to touch. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face.

“So beautiful, right? Do you see the rings?”

“Sure do,” he replies, straightening and flashing you a hesitant, crooked smile. Your thoughts are almost derailed by the charm of it, but the eagerness to teach keeps you grounded.

“Here, scooch over a sec, lemme just readjust it….” You quickly check your notes then fiddle with the telescope. You’re overly aware of the man standing next to you, but he surprises you with polite silence, hands on his hips, apparently content to watch you work.

“Here, look,” you excitedly tell him as soon as it’s adjusted. With a quizzical expression, he leans down again, though there’s more enthusiasm in his movement this time.

“…What am I lookin’ at?” he asks, glancing over at you expectantly.

You giggle and mutter a quick, “Oh right,” before launching into an explanation. You gesture and describe, the animation in your voice and knowledge on the subject captivating the stranger.

He watches you speak with a mixture of admiration and bemusement on his face, like he can’t believe he’s listening so attentively, but doesn’t want to miss a word. All previous tension evaporates as you show him the charts you’ve drawn and move the telescope to and fro.

“Oh, and you should be able to see Phobos right now—

“What’s yer name, darlin’?” the man interrupts suddenly. You glance up at him and realize just how close he stands. Your shoulder brushes his chest, his body heat palpable. You’re glad for the darkness when your cheeks burn.

You do your best not to trip over your own name when he smirks, sudden shyness drying your throat and making your heart skip a beat. There’s irritation there too, annoyance with his smugness. You’re easier to read than you’d hoped, apparently.

“Bo,” he tells you as he holds out his hand. You turn to face him and accept his outstretched palm. It is then you notice your watch.

“Oh christ, it’s late. I really gotta go!”Hurriedly, you gather up your notes and pack away your equipment. Bo watches quietly and you can tell by the way he stands so stock still that he’s contemplating something.

You don’t give him a chance to decide on whatever it was he was planning when he entered the clearing.

“I, uh…I was gonna come back on Thursday if, you know, if you wanted to learn more.” Bo blinks at you, genuine surprise on his face. You’re just as shocked by your own words. Offering to meet a strange man with questionable intentions, alone, in the middle of rural Louisiana to teach him amateur astronomy?

Have you lost your damn mind?

Yet, the way he’d engaged with the subject and how eagerly he listened makes you think there’s something more to this man. The initial trajectory of your meeting had changed, hadn’t it? There was a spark, a yearning for connection. He wants to learn, and you want to teach.

That, or you’re completely delusional.

“Next Thursday?” You nod at his question. He tips his head again, like he’s thinking. Slipping his hands back into his pockets, he shrugs. “I can try and make it.”

**

He does make it on Thursday. You do too. And again on Saturday. And the following Friday. And Monday.

Sunday finds you seated on a blanket, Bo at your side, flashlight in your mouth and pen in had. Around you, the nighttime creatures sing their songs. Your trusty telescope points to the sky, ready to capture the comet you’re tracking.

You’re relaxed in his presence now. You’ve decided to attribute your initial meeting to simple chance. He hasn’t given you a reason not to trust him, and you’re not going to look for one.

Your name murmured in a hushed and careful tone breaks your reverie. You hum in response before lowering the flashlight and glancing up. The look in Bo’s baby blues freezes you in place and brings heat to your cheeks.

He’s closer than you anticipated. He removed his hat at some point and his dark hair is ruffled like he hastily ran his fingers through it. That self-satisfied smirk you tell yourself you hate pulls at the side of his mouth and there’s warmth in his eyes as they trace the curve of your lips.

“Been tryin’ t’kiss ya for the past ten minutes,” he teases, his hand reaching out to playfully flick the pen in your hand. You release a breathy laugh as your heart flutters in your chest like a trapped bird.

“Oh, um…s-sorry,” is all you can manage, mouth curving in a weak smile. Your teeth worry your bottom lip when Bo slides closer to cradle your face in his palms.

“Looks like I finally get t’teach ya somethin’ huh?” he jokes, lips ghosting across yours.

You huff, “Oh shut up,” but there’s no real bite to your words. Bo chuckles affectionately and smoothes his thumbs over your hair.

His next words are soft, the vulnerability in them meant only for your ears. “You been real sweet, darlin’. Ain’t nobody taught me anythin’ like you.”

“Oh,” you breathe, moved by his admission. The gratitude in it warms you deep in your chest. Bo wrinkles his nose.

“Alright, enough a’ that. Turnin’ me into a fuckin’ sap.” Your next scoff and eye roll is cut off when he finally claims your mouth in a searing kiss.

Overhead, stars twinkle, your silent spectators.

[dr-demi-bee]

Day 24--------------------Read on AO3--------------------------

Pairing: Rolan/Tav Prompt: Dude in distress A little angst a little comfort, idiots pining, poor communication, SFW

----------------------------------------------------------------------

His torch was guttering in the eerie winds of the preternaturally still curse. Something, or some things howled and cried in the distance, echoing in the strange din. Everything smelled like rot and decay, wisps of shadow weave curled and tugged at the skin.

Rolan had known on some level it was a fool’s errand to try venturing out here alone. Exceptional wizard or no. And the Harpers in Last Light had warned him as much.

He’s been following the meandering patterns of this gods forsaken wasteland - finding the stable structures and roadways that lead to the heart of the ruins of Reithwin. In theory, that hulking shadow in the distance could be Moonrise.

Just as Rolan’s making to step onto a flimsy looking walkway there’s a screech behind him. Too close. And then another. More. His torchlight sputters and Rolan’s spinning on his heel, pulling at threads of weave with his freehand.

Magic missiles knock them backwards but they don’t stop advancing. Ignis and they only fall back slightly.

He is well and truly doomed.

Rolan will die. Cal and Lia, if they aren’t already, will die with him.

“Gods damn it!”

An arrow whizzes by and pierces through the heart of one of the shadows, making it fizzle and wail. A moment later, a barrage of magic missiles obliterates another shadow. It's hard to hear over the din, but soon there's a raging inferno of a tiefling barreling past Rolan to cut down a shadow with her great axe.

And at last, a slight, hooded figure all in black, yet glowing with some unmistakable fey magic, skids to a halt directly in front of Rolan. Back turned to him, her blades are up and ready to defend.

Another shadow charges in and in a whirl of blades the small figure decimates the wraith until it vanishes into smoke. The flurry knocks her hood back, revealing a familiar face from the Grove.

Tav.

Tav who got him into this gods forsaken mess.

Tav who haunts his every free thought when he's not in danger. 

Damnit. Of all people! Now she's in danger because of his mistakes too.

“What in the hells are you doing?” Rolan shouts.

She and her companions decimate the remaining shadow-fiends. She's not alone - Karlach is here. And moments later they're joined by Gale and Astarion. All of them glowing that same effusive light - pixie magic.

Tav huffs a breath, pulling a mask down from over her mouth.

"Right this minute, I'm saving your ass," she replies, sounding a bit winded. Her brows draw low with concern. "What were you thinking, coming out here alone?"

“Gods damn it all!” Rolan growls out. His body practically vibrates with the impotent fury of his failures. “I can do nothing right - not a damn thing!”

“Please tell me you weren’t looking for Moonrise,” Tav returns, moving back to his side. Gods the look of concern on her face feels too much like pity. He hates it. When she adds another word it stings like a slap. “Alone.”

Why would you care!

“So what if I was!” Rolan bristles. “Cal and Lia could be there!”

“Even if they are, you plan on invading a fortress inhabited by a cult - ALONE!” Tav’s ire grows in tandem with his.

But what the hells does she have to be angry about? She’s not alone. She has her friends with her! All the resources she needs! No one she loves is in danger.

“Instead I found myself cornered by shadow-fiends and in need of rescue.” His face twists as he considers it. Not only has he failed miserably at making it to moonrise to save his siblings - but now she’s in danger too.

“From you of all bloody people.” In his despair it sounds almost like a whine. No doubt it sounds as pathetic to her as it feels to him.

It must, given the way her expression curdles. He’s slighted her. Again. Good. Maybe if he pushes her away she’ll stop putting herself in danger to save him.

His own scathing words from earlier sour in his mouth. You go save the world, or your own arse, or whatever it is you do. I’ll fix this. He’d been cruel to her - again - pushed her away in his grief. When she asked to help.

“What good am I if I can’t do this...this one thing?”

“Rolan...”

“I’ve failed Cal and Lia, again.”

And you, he thinks miserably. The look of pity in her eyes is enough he wants to drown himself in wine. He brushes off her concern with a forceful wave before she can say anything more to make him feel awful. Shame curdles in his stomach.

“Be on your way,” he huffs, turning his face away. “I’ll return to Last Light... I know when I’m outmatched.”

When he turns away, Tav’s hand around his wrist stops him before he can leave. It feels like those slender fingers are clenching around his heart instead. And the look on her face when he turns back to her makes his heart stutter. Normally snarky and boisterous, she’s...kind. Concerned. Caring. What the hells for?

“We’ll save them,” Tav murmurs softly. She means it. Of course she does. And maybe she’s their only hope.

But gods damn it, why does she have to be the one in danger? Again and again, no matter how weary she looks. She just grins and puts herself on the line. Idiot.

“Why does it have to be you?” It slips free in a low murmur as his eyes lift from where her hand clutches tight to his wrist back up to her face. To those impossible eyes.

And she shrugs. “Just lucky like that, I guess.”

Rolan scoffs and groans an exaggerated sound of frustration. This impossible woman. He knows it’ll be impossible to dissuade her. And secretly he can’t bear the thought of not letting her go - to have a chance at seeing his siblings again. Even as the thought of her in peril again fills him with icy dread.

“Just-” Rolan huffs, he can’t get the words free. They rail against his pride. When he finally manages it, the words are rushed and quiet. “Just come back safely.”

Tav huffs a soft laugh like she’s surprised to hear it. “What do you care?”

“You-!” Rolan’s hands clench into fists and he nearly hisses at her in his agitation, his tail whipping. “Just do it, you dolt!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll come back safe.” Now Tav giggles in earnest. “Not sure why you care.”

She lets go of his wrist and waves off his concern. Her lips quirk up in that infuriating half-smile of hers and her eyes sparkle with a warm mirth. But she doesn’t get it. He can tell. She doesn’t get a lick of why he’d care. That he does care.

And if anything, that pisses him off even more. Gods damnit!

"Zurgan-!” Rolan swears, crossing the distance between them. His stomach does a little flip when her expression changes to one of surprise. “Fine, I'll show you -"

Rolan grasps her by her shoulders and yanks her to him, crushing his lips to hers. He can’t say it in words, but maybe this wil at least show her something. And Rolan desperately needs her to understand.

So he kisses her. Kisses her until their both gasping for air.

And when they stare at one another, chests heaving, he can see it. There’s a glimmer in her eyes. She knows. Tav mirrors the concern and the anguish in Rolan’s expression as they pull away from one another.

“Get back to Last Light - stay there and stay safe,” she murmurs. “I’ll come back to you.”

@lanafofana @waterdeep-weavemoss @12thhouse-sun

@crimson-and-lavender @feedthepheasants @spooky-lil-bee

@femmefuck @heartfluttered

[hell-drabbles]

Lucifer and Ra-on 1

Summary: Often when something you crave is denied to you, you want it all the more. You told Ra-on to not bother Lucifer, to leave him be. But, surely he and Lucifer are friends now, right?

(Ya’ll don’t mind if I tweaked Lucifer just a bit so he can be used as a tool to further Ra-on’s mental decay do you? Also I saw Lucifer won’t be free for three months so I’m just gonna rip him out of Ra-on’s hands out of spite. I think it’s fair. Besides, I feel this version of Ra-on would actually grate on Lucifer's nerves with how he treats bonds he made in the human world.)

There was a loneliness to him, an almost ethereal beauty that was more grounded than Leviathan’s. It reminded Ra-on of perfectly bleached bones, made to bask in the sun for who knows how many millennia. Bones that Ra-on used to love grabbing as a kid before you came about and smack it out of his hands. Like it was something he shouldn’t hold. Something he shouldn’t look at it.

…Ra-on remembers pocketing these bones whenever you had your back turned. He never did anything with them. He just wanted to have them for the sake of having them. Because you didn’t want him to have it. And Ra-on ended up getting sick because of it, but that didn’t stop him from feeling that need to rebel.

“Don’t be a bother to him, Ra-on,” you told him one day, when Ra-on voiced his plan to do a surprise visit, to get him to open up, “if he wants to see you, he’ll see you. At least tell him in advance and if he rejects you, he rejects you.”

But, if it’s not a surprise, then what’s the point? Besides, isn’t it a good thing? That he’s finally getting out of his bubble to do something like this on his own?

You told him no. And what was Ra-on to do? Ra-on loves surprises. He loves getting them and he loves giving them. Minhyeok loves them too. Yes, yes, Ra-on didn’t have to, but spontaneous things are good to have in life, aren’t they?

“You care for the devils, in the same way you care for possession, don’t you?”

Ra-on was ripped right open. In that room, tugging at Lucifer’s clothes just to get a single stroke of those muscles he craves so much, this devil’s soft voice mercilessly cut into him.

“You are the key to ending this war. A key who’s greed seeks to consume everything under Hell, and even Heaven.” Ra-on let go, but Lucifer continued, “A key that ignores the voice of his life-long human friend, all for the sake of sinking deeper into sin. But such things don’t matter to me.” And just like that, Lucifer stood back up to his full height, basking in the moonlight. “You are the key after all. And, from what talks I’ve had with your friend, that greed of yours should be enough.”

Lucifer was a presence that took almost all of Ra-on will to stand. He always felt he was one twitch or one sneeze away from angering him and being sliced in two. He was cold, almost empty, lacking in expression but Ra-on knows he is full of compassion. Otherwise, why would the devils around him worship him so?

Every time Lucifer came into the same room as Ra-on, it almost felt no different than being in the same place as you. You both were always so intense, always deep in your own thoughts that Ra-on wanted nothing more than to tap into, if only to get to know you both more. And when that emotional well hidden deep within burst, it came out as a flood that always washed him away, leaving hurt, torn, and soaked to the bone.

“That’s, that’s not it!” Ra-on stepped back, gripping at his sleeves, “I’m not greedy! I cherish everyone here as they are! I’m sorry if I seem like that, and I’m sorry if my friend said anything offensive to you. They’re brash, I know but I promise they can change.”

How could he not, when they treat him so passionately? When they indulge in his every wish and command without even needing to say it? He knows that it’s weird and scary for you but if you just stop trying to control everything and leave them be–!

“…you seek to change your friend rather then leave them be. I see.”

In all the time he’s been in Hell, Ra-on’s words were always listened to, no matter how oddly they came out. But here, with this devil, with this ex-seraph that you’ve come to tolerate and even befriend, Ra-on’s words were tossed over Lucifer’s shoulder. Like they didn’t matter.

Ra-on isn’t blind to the disdain Lucifer shows him. All those first meetings, all those attempts to get to know him better, they always had this tinge of discomfort, like Ra-on was an annoying bug that he would swat as soon as he was too close. But, Lucifer wanted to keep meeting him. Even when all those conversations were just Ra-on attempting to make small talk, Lucifer kept wanting to meet him. So that has to mean something, right? That Lucifer’s disdain was just starting to fade.

Isn’t that why Lucifer called for him less and less often? To entice Ra-on to take steps of his own and visit of his own volition? Hell is a place made to indulge in everything without judgment. Shouldn’t Ra-on get to indulge like this just this once?

Ra-on wants to see the world that blooms between you and Lucifer. He could never catch the full depth of the conversations, but he would always notice the way you both were sitting. You in the more plush chair and Lucifer in the smaller one. Lucifer looking no less comfortable as he sipped his tea, and you smiling as you tapped a tune on the table.

When did you cross that threshold that Ra-on can’t reach?

Ra-on thought, perhaps, it was fear holding him back. And here he is, in this beautiful greenhouse, all on his own because if he has to take such steps to get rid of that fear and become closer to Lucifer, then so be it. Because then, everything should click eventually and all the devil kings will finally get along. Ra-on will finally get to see them all in one place, talking to one another, interacting and being happy.

And then, surely, Lucifer will finally being down all his walls. And maybe Ra-on will get to see more of what it’s like to be under him, what he looks like when they’re finally intertwined in bliss.

“But, they’ll get hurt if they continue like this.” And if they continue, Ra-on won’t truly heal. He won’t be able to enjoy anything. Hasn’t been able to for a while.

“So, abandoning them in the middle of an angel attack didn’t hurt them?”

…what?

“Walking out of a bar, going missing for two days, and coming back covered in fluids without telling your friend didn’t hurt them?”

What? What, when did–that’s not how that happened!

“I… I-”

Lucifer smiled. “Willfully ignorant, just like they said. Just like what I witnessed. Always running away. You didn’t even tell them you were coming to visit me, did you?”

“…”

“…I’m sleepy. You can leave now.”

[talonabraxas]

“Love is the strongest force in the universe.” — Frederick Lenz

The lover’s embrace kei @arrogantkei

Love

The path that is followed by most persons in the beginning of their spiritual search is the path of love. Love is the easiest and most effective way to begin our search for self-realization, for our selves. Love is the highest of all qualities that we can experience. The more we know about love, the more we experience love, the happier and more complete we are.

Love is, in its essence, a free, formless strand of luminosity. It is a light that uplifts our awareness, that transforms our consciousness, that kindles in us the flame of self-giving, knowledge and power. Love brings future into the present. It can cause us to take a quantum leap in our spiritual growth. It knits families together, friends, lovers, societies, nations and perhaps one day a world.

If we examine the essence of existence very closely, we’ll find that the essence of existence is love. There really is nothing that isn’t love. God is love. Truth is love. Beauty is love. Everything is a formation or an aggregate of love.

In more mature and advanced states of love, we love others, the world, God, eternity. In the most advanced state of love we don’t love for any reason or any purpose. We don’t even direct our love necessarily to an object. We just love for the sake of love. Love is beginningless and endless ecstasy. It’s an unfathomable mystery. It is the study of our lives.

In the fire of love we melt the ego down again and again and again. What is there when the ego is gone? Eternity, love…

If you love very, very deeply, if you love truth and God, your love will cause you to have a union. You’ll merge for a while, for a short time, with that truth. You’ll become it. Each time you merge with God in your meditation you’ll be freer and purer afterwards. It’s as if you’re going out into the sun, again and again.

So the light of eternity purifies, and it is only that real love of the infinite that will motivate you. Love is far superior as a spiritual device, as a spiritual vehicle, because when we follow the path of love we go higher and higher and higher. Our velocity actually increases as we go on, rather than decreases as with aversion, because our love grows and becomes more strong and more perfect.

Love is the strongest force in the universe. Once we harness ourselves to that force, it carries us to eternity. Yet at the same time, love is visceral and real. Love is physical. It embraces all things, all creatures and all beings. Love doesn’t space you out or take you out of this world, it makes you conscious of your own immortality. But love also teaches you to love your own mortality; to love this body that’s only here for a little while, just as we love the flowers that bloom for a short time and pass on; to love the skies and the scenes; to love all things in this world and all things beyond this world. As you do this more and more, you will move rapidly towards liberation.

Love leads us to ourselves – this is the mystery of love–what love does and why it does it. These questions can only be answered in your deep meditation.

Love is the shortcut to higher meditation. Above thought is love, and within and below thought is love. Love is a ladder that we can climb through thought. It’s very hard to stop thought. Try with your willpower – it’s very difficult. But if instead of trying to stop thought when you meditate you focus your attention on love – meditate on the heart center and just let that love grow and increase, more and more – then suddenly you’ll find, guess what? Your thoughts are slacking, you’re moving into a higher field of awareness, you’re feeling wonderful. Light is everywhere and suddenly there’s no thought. This is why love is said to be such an easy way to learn to meditate.

The secret of love is acceptance, acceptance of our finite self, of our life, our birth, our growth, our decay and our death; acceptance of the world around us, of eternity. The message of love is acceptance–self-acceptance in the smaller sense, of the individual personal self, and self-acceptance in the larger sense, of the self as eternity.

So practice love and self-acceptance and you’ll see you’ll have a beautiful life, an absolutely beautiful life.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Night Queen and the Frozen Plague.

I had to do a wee bit of tinkering to the GoT lore, namely that the White Walkers can speak beyond those eerie death cries we all know and love. But here, as promised, mostly for my Sharkie, some Brynhild and Heavenerys!

The sound of his roar fractured the still of the air, the great army of the dead all halting at their queen’s command, Brynhild looking to the sky.

“Southern enemies, my queen,” hissed Craxor, her general. Half skeleton, half rotting flesh, turning his sunken face skyward as he viewed the beast who cast a shadow over the frozen wasteland. 

“Not enemies,” she whispered, her glowing, azure eyes picking out the dragon circling overhead, through the thick of the snow clouds. ”Heavenerys Targaryen and her dragon. At last, she has heard my call. She has come home.”  

The curse of the cold had come to pass, the first-born, pure-blooded child of King Amarys Targaryen blighted by it, as she surely would be. An ill-advised trip north of the wall had led to the ancestral curse landing squarely upon the child, Havenerys born with the mark of the dead. One look into her piercing eyes, and Amarys had seen it, his soul filled with dread.  

Therein born to him and his queen, was the downfall of man. The Night Queen would call for her one day, and his precious girl would answer. 

Kairaxès began his descent from the sky, the snow swirling in tempestuous storms beneath the whoosh of his huge, white wings, shaking the ground he landed upon. The army waited, thousands of wights in amongst a battalion of white walkers, all standing poised. Dead men lain to waste, with no other purpose than to serve their immortal queen. 

Brynhild moved on her tattered, giant black steed, the haggard creature propelled forward on shattered fetlocks, ribbons of decayed flesh floating hauntingly in the breeze. Only she advanced, her army waiting, Heavenerys taking them all in as she dismounted and climbed down to the floor, stroking her dragon’s face.  

“All is well, my beautiful beast,” she spoke at his warning rattles. “They are unlike all we know, but they pose us no harm.” She wasn’t too sure why it was that she intrinsically knew that, but she did. She felt it on a level much deeper than the very last roots of her soul.  

The Night Queen slowed her mount, bringing him to a stop and jumping down to her feet, walking the remaining way to where the Targaryen stood.  

“Welcome to the northern wastes,” Brynhild stated, her voice like a whispered death rattle, sending a slight chill through Heavenerys. She was beyond other worldly, the power radiating from her unlike anything she had ever felt. She watched the ancient queen spear her long, white lance into the frozen ground beneath her feet, eyeing her with the same curiosity. She was all Brynhild had foreseen she would be.  

“I felt I had to come to you, but I do not know why,” she spoke, her sharp, angular face set, staring as the queen slowly approached. 

“You know exactly why, Heavenerys. For justice. For revenge.” The fire of recognition danced in her eyes, the young Targaryen finally feeling heard by somebody. “To wrong those who have wronged you. Amos. Aerthurys. To rain fire and ice upon your enemies, to all those who have harmed you. I believe they call it Valar Morghulis in your mother tongue.” 

Heavenerys nodded, yet her face still questioned. “But why was it, that I felt you call out to me? Why was it you, here in a land where I do not belong?” 

“From me you came, and to me you return, child.”  

At those words, she felt her blood chill to freeze. “I am not a child.”  

Brynhild lifted her chin. “When I am older than time itself, you are very much a child.” She felt it in the air, the waves of cold, foreboding magic, magic not to make an impact. “And your sorcery cannot charm me. Save that. It has its place, it’s intended use.”  

“I cannot if you intend to make me like them,” she spoke, her finger pointing out to the white walkers, Brynhild turning to view her generals. 

“No, which is why I do not intend to. You returning to me was always for a purpose beyond your own. I need you, to make a pathway for us. For my army. For our army. Only with you can I break down the wall and march on Westeros.” 

Many summers and winters would pass, before the final dreadful cold of great north arrived. On that day, Heavenerys flew the great Kairaxès back across the wall, his frozen flames decimating the fortitude, his rider’s magic breaking it further.  

Together, the Frozen Plague and the Night Queen brought their army forth into Westeros.  

Winter is here.  

Valar Marghulis.  

@call-sign-shark @wonderlanddreamer @justrainandcoffee @cillmequick @novashelby

[llondonfog]

twst (horror) tober — day 6 (time)

➤ Day 6: Time | “How long has it been?” 

Silver once told him that ever since stepping into the role of caring for Lilia, the concept of time turned meaningless to him.

Silver told him that he can only categorize the days now on a continuum of good and bad.

There were days when his father would wake up with the hint of recognition in his eyes and an agreeable slant to his lips, and Silver needn't coax him out of bed to amuse him with the trinkets and gifts bestowed upon him by well-meaning classmates and a grieving liege. There were even better days when a glimmer of memory not yet lost would surface in the dark and mired deadlands of his father's deteriorating mind, when he'd pat the cushion beside him on the couch and regal Silver with a tale he'd heard at least several times before— each time, he listens just as patiently as if it were the first.

And then there were bad days when the fae that awaited him on the other side of the bedroom door screeched and howled in a long-lost tongue, days when Silver was forced to use the iron bolts that Malleus-sama had pleaded with him to install on the wooden frame if he wouldn't listen to reason and use manacles fixed to the bed instead ("My father isn't a monster, Malleus-sama, I won't humiliate him and strip his dignity away!") to stop those wild, ragged claws from tearing through the wood like paper to scratch out his eyes. Days when it is hard to separate the loving, smiling father from the feral creature caught in a losing battle as it succumbs to a fate inevitable to its kind.

Sebek listens to his friend, remains silent for once— it is unlike Silver to share his burdens, to even talk about the difficulties of caring for a fae so advanced in the decay as Lilia lest he fears that anyone find him complaining. They had all tried to talk him out of it when they had learned that Silver had already rescinded his studies at Night Raven College with the intent to care for his father to the bitter end. Malleus had nearly been beside himself, for safety could not be guaranteed, even for a human as strong and determined as Silver— "He'll overwhelm you," Sebek had watched his prince all but beg the boy to reconsider. "You know naught of what you are consigning yourself to, you have never seen our kind at our most frightful display. He would not wish this upon you, he would want his memory to remain pristine in your mind!"

But Silver had remained steadfast, loyal and devoted to his father beyond all rational persuasion. "I will not allow his last moments to be in suffering and all alone, Malleus-sama. He has sacrificed his life for the country, for you, and for me— I find it hardly equal what meager weeks I can give to him so that he may go in peace."

And so they had left to that cottage in the forest, the only home that both of them had ever known. Sebek had visited only once, the nature of being Malleus-sama's sole guard until Silver's return dictating that he shoulder a more hefty responsibility. They had both appeared rather worn and weary, bags deeper under Silver's eyes than he had ever known them to exist before, but together at least with wan smiles on their faces, as Silver had so desperately wished for them to be.

All the same, Sebek's gaze had keenly noted the presence of thin, crimson lines along Silver's forearms and neck— he found himself too much of a coward to glance at Lilia's hands.

Today, however, he's visiting for a much different reason than merely personal concern. Malleus-sama had bid him to venture out into those isolated, lonely woods, a frown deep and haggard on his perfect face; Sebek knows that if he were to look in a mirror, the same expression would be reflected back at him. For two weeks now, not a single letter delivered to the cottage had returned with correspondence, courtesy of Silver's little feathered friends usually so delighted to concede to his requests. Normally, a week's worth of silence would have jolted the both of them into worry, but with the whirlwind of a recent goodwill trip to the neighboring human countries, Sebek had merely assumed there would be a small pile of daily updates from Silver for them to look forward to reading upon their return. Imagine then, the foreboding that had settled in like an ominous pressure at the lack of any such notes.

That pressure only mounts and builds with a wicked weight upon his shoulders as he approaches the darkened cottage, silent among the stilled trees. A pressure that twists in his stomach like a corkscrew, and grips his throat in a vice, thinning the air he breathes as he stares with dread at the front door swinging off its hinges, and a faint, nauseating smell choking the scent of violets from beneath his feet.

Today, it seems, is not simply a good or bad day— it is an awful one.

[pip-n-chips]

this is messy so apologies in advance! kind of long so the rest is under the cut

So... Kylar as a murderer, huh?

(warnings include: death, gore, general violence, stalking, kidnapping, manipulation, drugging, Kylar being Kylar)

Kylar is a stalker, first and foremost- from afar is where they feel most comfortable. They observe your behaviors, who you talk to, what you do- they have your entire schedule memorized. If you think you're alone, you're not. If you think no one is watching you, you're wrong. Kylar is watching you, always always always. They need to learn about you to protect you, and they do! It starts off relatively tame- darts are shot, death threats sent, but nothing that'll harm anybody! They don't act on it!

That is, until you start to make them jealous. Is this a challenge? A test? You must know what you're doing, right? Talking to that orphan, that businessperson, that bully, that religious freak--

No

nonono

nononono

no NO NO NO

NO, that won't do.

That won't do at all.

One of your "friends" disappear, and you're worried. And they can't understand why. They weren't good for you, you should be happy to be free of the grip they had on you. Regardless, this is the perfect opportunity for them to slide into your life, to be by your side. They want to be the light in your darkness, the shoulder you can always lean on. Everyone will leave you but them, can't you see? They love you they love you they love y-

One by one, the remaining friends disappear, and you worry more and more each time- and it does numbers on your mental health. And Kylar tells you it's okay, your friends are okay, they just weren't real friends. If they were, how could they just up and leave you? Oh so wonderful, so incredible you? They'll never leave you like how your so-called "friends" did. Do you know that? Please say that you do. Because they won't! Never ever ever ever!

This continues until they're the only one left, and things are exactly how they wanted...

++++Jealousy

But no.

You couldn't just accept the happy ending.

(The one that was always meant to be!)

You just had to go out and meet new people, make more connections.

(Are they not enough??)

And so, your new "friends" disappear one by one, again. But it doesn't stop there, because you didn't learn your lesson last time.

They start leaving anonymous "gifts" for you. To remind you that of those who left. To remind you that you are theirs.

Severed arms, feet, fingers. They paint you love notes with blood, smeared over the side of the orphanage. They write your name, the letters shaped by intestines. They place eyeballs around your room so you never feel alone, they leave jackets sewed from skin when winter comes to keep you warm. They leave you jewelery made from teeth so you can feel beautiful.

(And if you have the wolf TF, they'll gift you the bones. Aren't you a good doggie? Don't you love the gifts? Will you be good now?? Will you be loyal??)

And you better pray that they never learn that your previous "friends" were anything more than that, or that you had feelings for them, because they won't take it well, at ALL. Because one day, you'll come home to a box on your bed, and within lies the decapitated head of someone you once loved. (But never as much as you'll love Kylar, right??) It's ruined and decaying, but you recognize it just enough, and maybe you shut down.

You don't understand what's happening, who could do this? Why? What did you do?

Maybe you withdraw, maybe you cling to Kylar even harder, needing their support. And they finally have you where they want you.

But happiness doesn't last, again, and they blame you for it. Because, due to your past behavior, you've made them so so possessive and so so jealous, that all it takes is for you to look at someone else (or, god forbid, talk to someone else. What a waste of breath!), and they snap. Because have you NOT learned your lesson? NO ONE ELSE deserves your time of day, only Kylar only Kylar only Kylar only Kyl-

So you can't possibly blame them when you feel a pinch in your neck one night, and the only thing you can hear are Kylar's obsessive ramblings as your vision fades. You can't blame them when you wake up bound in rope in some dingy old basement. And if you try to plead, they'll remind you that this is all your fault. All you had to do was stay loyal, all you had to do was recognize who (them them them them) was best for you, but you didn't, and you forced their hand.

It's all your fault.

If you try to scream, Kylar would press a knife to your neck and beg you to stay silent. To be compliant. They don't want to kill you, they only want what's best for you. Do you know that? They don't have to beg you to say that you do this time, because you nod along frantically like the perfect thing that you are.

If you try to scream again (how could you lie to them you said you understood you said you said-), they cut out your tongue. Which is such a shame, your voice was music to their ears, but that's okay, they have their old recordings of you.

Your ending perfect life together really just depends on your behavior. If you fight back, your tongue won't be the only thing you'll lose. But that's okay, because you're so smart and cool, you'll learn eventually. You'll learn to be the perfect spouse, they really hope you do.

Because they don't want to kill you.

So go along with it, it's okay. You'll be happy here, eventually.

[bethbluebell]

purpose [ d.dixon ] part 1

daryl dixon x fem!reader

summary; a last minute decision to scavenge a hospital may have sounded like the worst idea in the apocalypse, and it was. But it also gave you the opportunity to help a certain archer and his people - and in this world, that was everything

parts; 1 , 2 (3 part ongoing series)

This was a shit idea. A hospital was at the top of the list of places to stay away from in the apocalypse but you were growing increasingly desperate. You weren’t ready to give up on this area - not when there had to be more supplies somewhere.

You didn’t want to keep travelling from place to place, you wanted to build a solid foundation for yourself, even if that sounded like a pipe dream in the current circumstances.

You stood before the hospital as it loomed over you, an overwhelming monolith of concrete and steel, its windows shattered, its corridors haunted by the whispers of the dead. You tightened your grip on your weapon, nerves jangling with anticipation as you prepared to breach the silence that envelops the abandoned building.

With cautious steps, you entered the dimly lit lobby with your senses on high alert. Your brain was begging you to turn back but your legs continued forward. So far, everything seemed to be okay, no alarming signs like blood or bodies. The air hanged heavy with the scent of decay, a reminder of how long you’ve survived. It’s not like you counted, who cares if it was your birthday? You had no one to celebrate it with anyways and it’s not like you could go out and get shit-faced drunk like you previously did.

You didn’t even realise that you had stopped just before the turn in the corridor, you were stalling, rightfully so, but you knew the good stuff would be deeper in the building, anything would be blessing. You push aside your fear, focusing instead on the task at hand – scavenging for supplies and ironically you were hoping for anything besides medicine because funnily enough, you had plenty of that.

As you made your way through the deserted corridors, your footsteps echoing off the cold linoleum floors, you catch a faint sound from above - way above you that it was causing the building to strain. At first it just sounded like a small thud but it was getting louder and constant, ricocheting above you.

You were debating whether to turn around or at least just scavenge the floor you were on and forget the rest. But then you heard a gunshot and a wave of heat washed over you. Somebody was alive up there possibly fighting for their life – you couldn’t just walk away from that. The world may belong to the dead but that doesn’t mean your morals had to die with it.

Your heart quickens with a surge of adrenaline, your instincts urging you to investigate. Following the sound, you ascended up the first flight of stairs. Gunshots becoming more frequent followed by the all too familiar groans of the undead. You had to hurry.

You began to run up the flights of stairs, desperate to help in any way you can. As you turned the corner you come face to face with chaos.

A lone figure, surrounded by a horde of walkers, fights for his life, his back pressed against the cold metal of a gurney. His movements are swift and precise, but the sheer number of undead closing in threatens to overwhelm him.

Without hesitation, you spring into action, your weapon at the ready as you charge towards the dead, hoping to catch as many off guard as possible before they eventually turn on you. With each swing, each strike, you carve a path through the advancing horde, driving them back with a ferocity born of desperation.

The figure, clad in a sleeveless vest, turns to meet your gaze as another walker drops at his feet. His eyes were striking, a piercing blue wide with surprise and gratitude. Recognition flickers in his gaze as his chest rises up and down, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected aid.

You didn’t have the luxury of time for introductions or pleasantries but even without a word, you both understood the situation.

You were fucked, but together you may just get out of this. You just hoped this man was as capable as he looked. No time for ogling though, this was about to get messy and you needed all of your attention to be focused on getting the hell out of here.

You stationed back to back to one another, facing the horde of walkers that are closing in on you. He takes aim with his crossbow, that you just now realised he had, picking off the undead with deadly accuracy while you slash your weapon with all your might, taking down any that get too close.

Despite the chaos surrounding you, there's a strange sense of unity between you and the stranger. You move as one, a well-oiled machine fighting to survive against overwhelming odds. You don't know each other's names, backgrounds, or even how you ended up in this situation, but none of that matters now. All that matters is staying alive.

As you continue to fight side by side, you manage to navigate the stairwell from where you came from. You turned to the man, wanting you both to get out safely and reached out to grab his tricep.

You were no better than a man.

You guys were practically standing at death’s door and you couldn’t help but blush at the contact of this man’s strong, glistening muscle. He turned to meet your eyes abruptly, his eyes shooting down to your hand - basically - caressing his muscle.

You pulled your hand away as if you had just suffered an electric shock and nodded your head towards the direction of the staircase, “We can get out this way!”

You continued to watch each other's backs, covering for one another's weaknesses as you navigate the treacherous maze of the hospital. With each passing moment, you gain a newfound respect for this man and his unwavering determination to survive.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you emerge from the hospital, battered and bruised but alive. "Thanks," he grunts, his voice rough with exhaustion.

Still hunched over and borderline wheezing you nod in response, a silent understanding passing between you. It seemed like you made a good enough impression because the stranger kept you company as you caught you breath. He was evidently way better built for this life than you were.

"I can't believe we made it,” You gasped, your voice trembling slightly with a mix of relief and disbelief. You regained your composure slightly, standing up straight and turning to look at him.

The man cast a sideways glance at you, his expression grim yet somehow softened by the genuine smile that painted your face. "Yeah," he grunted in agreement, "was touch and go there for a minute.”

As a team you had fought off a swarm of walkers, their numbers overwhelming, their hunger insatiable. But somehow, against all odds, you had done it. You couldn't help but feel a surge of relief at the sight of this man standing beside you, his presence a reassuring anchor in the midst of chaos.

"Why were you here?" You asked, your curiosity getting the better of you as you looked up at him.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering with a mixture of weariness and determination. "My people, they're sick. Need medicine," he explained, his voice gruff with emotion. "Figured this place might have somethin'."

A flicker of realisation sparked in your mind, you had medicine. Of course he was looking for medicine, you idiot. You’re probably the only living person left on this planet that would risk a hospital for anything but.

You had it stashed away in a modest cabin holed up in the woods nearby. It wasn't much, but among your meager belongings were vials of antibiotics and painkillers that could mean the difference between life and death for his people.

"I have medicine," You blurted out, your voice breaking through the stillness of the evening. "Back at my place. You can take it back to your people."

He regarded you with a mixture of surprise and suspicion, his brow furrowing as he weighed your offer. "Why you offerin' to help?" he asked, his tone guarded yet curious.

You shrugged, a nervous smile playing at the corners of your lips. "I don't know you, and you don't know me," you admitted. "But we helped each other out there. And in this world, that's gotta count for something, right?"

His gaze softened slightly at your words, a flicker of understanding passing between you. "Lead the way," He said finally, his voice gruff yet tinged with a note of gratitude.

As you both navigated the woods, your footsteps crunching against the array of dried twigs and leaves, you found out his name was Daryl. You noticed he was quite blunt with his answers which was to be expected.  His people were vulnerable and one accidental slip of information could be the difference between life or death.

Your heart pounded with each passing moment, your mind filled with uncertainty and possibility. As you reached your humble, wooden home you wasted no time in gathering the supplies you had promised.

Daryl situated himself beside the front door that really needed some TLC - a problem for another day. You handed Daryl a bag filled with medications, your hands trembling slightly as your fingers brushed in the exchange.

Daryl's eyes widened in surprise as he took the bag from you, his rough fingers picking out a bottle and tracing the label with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "This... this could help," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You offered him a tentative smile, "Thank you," Daryl said quietly, his gaze meeting yours for a brief moment before he tucked the bottle back into the bag.

You nodded, your heart swelling with a newfound sense of purpose. "Take care of your people," You said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

As Daryl disappeared into the darkness, You couldn't help but feel a sense of hope stirring within you. In a world torn apart by chaos and despair, you had found a glimmer of connection in the unlikeliest of places. And in that fleeting moment, you had a solid reason to build a foundation for yourself. There were still good people out there and in some silly way, your life had never felt more alive.

-----------------------------

I've always wanted to write for Daryl, the walking dead is part of the small group of TV series that i've actually finished and wholeheartedly adore.

I have this planned to be a 3 parter and I know which direction I want this to go in. I love a good slow burn and hope this was a nice introduction to this small series. The next part should hopefully be up sometime next week, I am going on a small trip to Krakow so I won't be able to finish up writing the second part until after :)

[fictionfixations]

im BACk at the wuthering waving

ngl i really want to join scar he seems very interesting (unfortunately we dont have that choice. no but IMAGINE a game like this but choices we make matter. like like yknow uhh. i mean the only one i can think of rn is like. detroit become human, which has a bunch of branching paths. so like imagine a choice can lead to a wildly different outcome. and so like. we can choose to trust scar or something. IMAGINE. i mean that'd probably go into spoiler-y territory considering idk one side might say something, the other might say something contradictory. or like something that players on a different path dont learn so its complicated. and also probably very hard to actually do. but i just. really adore games like that ngl)

yes i havent even made it to 1.1 yet LMFAO

anyway i dont know what they did but oh my god its so much less laggier (the only thing of note is that im stuck in the loading screens for longer. but i mean honestly i have other things i can do in the meantime while waiting so its not a big deal)

like. i can. actually go through cutscenes and its not just slideshow bullshit that i have to go watch someone else go through it for the cutscene (you know the cutscene where we see general jiyan(?) fighting while we're like nowhere near him? there was so much delay cause it was struggling to shift to jiyan cause it was showing the other stuff with i think the tacet discords? instead so the voices were playing and im just sat here like wtf is going on i dont even see yall what are you doing)

and and i can actually fight and know that my failings are not that its lagging me so i cant dodge. its just that im bad at dodging LOL

also i cant remember but im pretty sure you cant dodge by jumping i think youre meant to dash from it but uhm

i briefly played the solo leveling game so i keep pressing space to either start sprinting or to dodge an attack. which. its kinda funny cause i find myself pressing space playing hsr which is a game you cannot jump in. man, the confusion of playing games with different buttons for actions so when you switch to another you press the wrong button. funniest shit ever ngl (i remember i played genshin and like this one roblox game. decaying winter. and. so they had different buttons for picking up stuff, cant remember which one was e or f. but so. i press the pick up for genshin button out of habit. and then it causes me to place down a bomb LMFAO. i cant pick it up. and if i press f again [its more if i hold it but still] it explodes so i have to pray i didnt spam it, or pray that i didnt accidentally stick it on me because that can happen haha. ..or even that i didnt stick it on a teammate on accident cause friendly fire is a thing)

i feel spoiled though cause hsr and solo leveling have auto so i can just chime in occasionally while something else fights for me. but its like. games like wuwa and genshin (and solo leveling because even with auto i control me. i just have it on because i tend to forget to use like the skills) you have to spam attack. so my hand hates me LMFAO (me typing all this out doesnt help either but uhm i dont know the meaning of giving my hands a break)

anyway pulling plans: Jinhsi, Scar (hopefully), and Camellya..? i think? the the the flower person who called us a seed LMFAO (i keep wanting to think of her as phantylia because for whatever reason the name 'camellya' is hard to remember so uh if i ever misspell..)

also another thing of note. it kinda keeps tripping me up when the dialogue advances without auto. i mean it makes sense cause its going through it along with the character's movement so its not like they can just stop them from moving waiting for you to go to the next dialogue box

but sometimes im doing other stuff and listening to the dialogue but im going to go back to read it because a mix of voiced dialogue and reading the dialogue myself helps me remember best

but uh i get distracted. very easily. so sometimes i need to reread it multiple times to get it to stick, so i kind of wished wuwa had like a log that you could check to go back through peoples dialogue during the actual convo.

genuinely cant remember if its been like that in 1.0 but to be fair theres only so much room (and its still readable anyway)

i wanted to try speedrunning to act 7 (tbh i dont think im even at a high enough like union level(? i think thats what its called) to go through most of the story) but ive underestimated how tired id be

its probably so pixel-y im sorry its cause i dont play full screen so its all smaller-ized (and probably because im playing on the lowest graphics)

but like im sorry jinhsi its just. scar. is. so. cool. AGHHHh

off topic but it always bothers me how in slowed down scenes like this or where characters are in a sort of stasis where they're doing an action but its slowed down for whichever reason (you can see it in anime a bunch) and the character talks a shit ton and im just sat here like how are you speaking that much in this time frame what ???

like the card cant be moving THAT slow can it?? or if so couldnt someone just strike it down before it hits or something?? maybe i shouldnt be trying to apply logic to this. or maybe it is possible and im just very tired so i cant think straight idk

now this is in no way a complaint (i do like this scene) im just nitpicky and have never had the opportunity to express my thoughts about things like this ngl

anyway uh. upside to wuwa in case this turned out to be a very negative post (in which oops)

its never . i. cant recall the terminology. you know when too much is running and your laptop just turns everything off abruptly?

its never done that solo leveling has (and now i never play it without a fan) hsr has but only when ive put it at high graphics cause i wanted to experience it if genshin has, i genuinely cant remember

i cant read roman numerals except 123 idk what act this is but wooo im stopping here now

[thestormthatrises]

It's all fun and games in Moshang land until Shang Qinghua gets dead serious and quiet, and firmly says "No." Tô MBJ.

People think that MBJ is the ice demon that can make a room grow deadly cold with just one look, one arched brow. But, Lord in heaven! They have never seen the whole palace freeze under SQH stern and unyielding"No."

Because like, there are a thousand and one "no's" that SQH can say:

There's the nervous "No, no!" He says when something is bothering him but he doesn't want to talk about it;

The "No, nothing" when his cunning mind is scheming;

The whiney "noooo" for when MBJ drags him away from his Work because he forgot to eat (and secretly wants to cuddle);

There's the tired "No..." He sighs out when MBJ has to leave his bed on AD, silently begging for him to stay just a little bit more (but he can't, they both know this);

So many ways and tones and meanings to one word... And yet, the deadliest comes when SQH is genuinely upset or annoyed. He grows quiet before he says it, as if giving the chance to the offender to shut the fuck up and stop bothering him. When grace is denied, he digs his heels in the ground and firmly says "No."

And he means it.

MBJ, for all the bratty, spoiled prince that he is; for all he hates to be denied things (especially Qinghua), freezes on the spot because of that one word from the peak Lord. That tone. That look!

You would think an ice demon would be ok with a cold hand over his heart but When the ice cold hand of anxious trepidation creeps into his chest, he can't bear it.

Before SQH left him, he would rally against that "no" like the brat he was and would even punish Qinghua for denying him. But he what he didn't know then was that his cowardly servant had his limits.

He bent like bamboo in the storm of his rages most of the time. But when MBJ overstepped his limits, he would grow rigid and solid and strong. He would take each beating almost silently and each hit filled those honeyed eyes with scorn.

And worse of all: after the useless beating, he would get up, bow and call MBJ "my prince".

It was disrespectful. It was a threat. It was cold, distant and... bad. It was HORRIBLE! And he hated being called a prince by someone who always believed in him-- had always said that he would be a king.

He knew better now, of course. He rushed to correct whatever mistake was made but, sometimes, the best thing to do was allow SQH to leave and cool off. A tactile retreat to regroup resources and pamper his human rotten to get back into his good graces.

Qinghua was too dangerous to be on his bad side. More dangerous than Junshang. With LBH, you could just be killed. With SQH, he would keep you alive and destroy everything you held dear. He would bring down the greatest of houses and sects, he would take their treasures, Salt their land and bring their homes to ruin and decay. And he would do it all and make it seem like it was all your fault. And in the end, when you had nothing, when you begged for death, he would make you grovel for it. Not even honor could accompany you to the grave.

(MBJ always thought that ruthless efficiency was extremely hot. He loved it. He loved how 7 out of 10 times, Qinghua used it for his king and the advancement of the Northern Desert. Qinghua was so beautiful when he was driven)

Qinghua was also too precious to lose.

It was hard to put into words, to quantify, how much he loved his human. It was an intense, insane love that took him completely by surprise. He still fumbled with it. With how much he felt. It tripped the king most of time SQH just needed to breathe, to smile, to call out to him, and his treacherous heart leaped and raced. It order his body to act before he could think. He needed SQH always there. Always near. Always his. SQH was an intrinsic part of himself And when they fought, it was like being torn asunder. He hated it. He hated having SQH mad at/disappointed by him 🥺

Luckily for MBJ, SQH had a soft heart. A marshmallow one, really. But just for him. When he shows true contrition, his future Consort easily opens up and allows himself to be pampered and held and loved. He sighs and smiles and melts in MBJ'S arms. He sweetly calls him "my king"

But in those tense hours of separation, the whole north holds its breath and walks quietly to keep Peak Lord Shang's ire at bay.

("When mom raises her voice, everybody lowers their heads" was a loop in my head while writing this drivel XDD)

[a-gilded-imprisonment]

Song challenge!

Share at least 5 songs that you associate with or remind you of your muse!

(Ooc: Tagged by both @veritas-ratio-rp and @spaceoddityhsr :3 Thank you!)

#1 : Unsweetened Lemonade - Amélie Farren

I fucked the reaper cause I knew My time was coming can't you see I was either gonna die At 12 or 90-fucking-3

I'd do anything for twenty bucks I'd sell my sour soul Cause lemonade is bitter till you Sweeten up the bowl

And I'm sitting in the bathroom I'm crying citrus tears Everything I used to love Decayed over the years

It's hard to finish sentences I'll sell my pride instead Cause it's easier to focus I'm just the price above my head

#2 : Poker Face - Lady Gaga

I wanna hold 'em like they do in Texas, please Fold 'em, let 'em hit me, raise it, baby, stay with me (I love it) Love game intuition, play the cards with spades to start And after he's been hooked, I'll play the one that's on his heart

Can't read my, can't read my No, he can't read my poker face (She's got me like nobody) Can't read my, can't read my No, he can't read my poker face (She's got me like nobody)

I wanna roll with him, a hard pair we will be (hey) A little gamblin' is fun when you're with me (I love it) Russian roulette is not the same without a gun And baby, when it's love, if it's not rough, it isn't fun (fun)

#3 : Slut! - Taylor Swift

Got lovestruck, went straight to my head Got lovesick, all over my bed Love to think you'll never forget Handprints in wet cement

Adorned with smoke on my clothes Lovelorn and nobody knows Love thorns all over this rose I'll pay the price, you won't

But if I'm all dressed up They might as well be looking at us And if they call me a slut You know it might be worth it for once And if I'm gonna be drunk Might as well be drunk in love

Send the code, he's waiting there The sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air Everyone wants him That was my crime The wrong place at the right time And I break down, then he's pullin' me in In a world of boys, he's a gentleman

#4 : Victorious - Panic! At the Disco

Double bubble disco queen Headed to the guillotine Skin as cool as Steve McQueen Let me be your killer king

It hurts until it stops We will love until it's not I'm a killing spree in white Eyes like broken Christmas lights

My touch is black and poisonous And nothing like my punch drunk kiss I know you need it Do you feel it Drink the water Drink the wine

#5 : Mirrorball - Taylor Swift

I want you to know I'm a mirrorball I can change everything about me to fit in You are not like the regulars The masquerade revelers Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten

Hush! When no one is around, my dear You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you

Hush! I know they said the end is near But I'm still on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you

I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try

I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me

#6 : End of Beginning - Djo

Just one more tear to cry One teardrop from my eye You better save it for The middle of the night When things aren't black and white Enter, Troubadour "Remember twenty-four?"

And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it Another version of me, I was in it I wave goodbye to the end of beginning

This song has started now And you're just finding out Now isn't that a laugh? A major sacrifice But clueless at the time Enter, Caroline "Just trust me, you'll be fine"

#7 : Blame Brett - The Beaches

That's why I won't get vulnerable Don't you dare get comfortable Heartbreak is impossible Feelings doing somersaults

I'm not ready for therapy To take accountability Right now, it's about me Me and only 'bout me, hey

You could be my baby, baby, baby You could be my baby boy, dear lady You could be my baby, baby, maybe Oh, oh

I'm sorry in advance I'm only gonna treat you bad I'm probably gonna let you down I'm probably gonna sleep around

So sorry in advance Before you take off your pants I wouldn't let me near your friends I wouldn't let me near your dad

#8 : Mastermind - Taylor Swift

What if I told you none of it was accidental And the first night that you saw me, I knew I wanted your body? I laid the groundwork and then, just like clockwork The dominoes cascaded in a line

What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine It was all my design 'Cause I'm a mastermind

No one wanted to play with me as a little kid So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since To make them love me and make it seem effortless This is the first time I've felt the need to confess And I swear I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian 'cause I care

So I told you none of it was accidental And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me I laid the groundwork and then saw a wide smirk On your face, you knew the entire time

(Ooc: Thank you!!! This was so fun :3

I'll lightly tag @sunday-halovian, @emanator-of-nihility, @intergalactic-singer, @teardrop-san, @sword-master-jingliu, @servallandauofficial, @stellaron-hunter-blade, and @scar-of-fractsidus only if you'd like or haven't already done it! ~ Mod Minie)

[ho3sferatu]

hi! first of all i really love your simblr! second, i saw in your previous answer that vampires and werewolves are annoying when they're unmodded, so i was wondering what mods do you use/ would you recommend, for someone who would like to play vampires and werewolves in the sims 2? thanks in advance and have an amazing day :)

Thank you, anon! 😭💖 I cracked open my folder full of supernatural gamefixes. Some of these are an absolute must for me, others are just for flavor. I don't include things like prettier skin/eyes overlays and such because everyone has different tastes and styles.

⚰️FOR VAMPIRES🦇

Vamp Daytime Indoors Decay Hack - A mod that stops decaying needs of vampires as long as they're indoors, giving them a chance to normally function during the day. However, I eventually switched to...

...Sunlight immunity for vamps - No more sunlight weakness! Why was this so important for me? Vampires can't hold basically any job because they cannot go out during the day. Large families of vampires are extremely hard to control, as sims are naturally suicidal and often get ideas such as, idk, cuddling together looking at clouds during daylight, completely unbothered by their burning flesh. So I use this mod to keep them safe (and myself sane). Despite their immunity, vampires still won't appear as walkbys and they cannot be called on the phone during the day. They still throw hissy fits at the sun. But they don't die. 😌

I know I said no cosmetic mods but... A vampire skin overlay that doesn't suck is an absolute must. It's absurd that non-transparent Maxis overlay turns black-skinned vampires pale white!😵 I personally use Semi-Transparent Vampire Default by Episims (which matches the set of skin defaults I use) but many other semi-transparent overlays exist out there.

Biting neck satisfies hunger need - I use version V.2, which separates "Bite Neck" interaction into "Embrace" (create new vampire) and "Bite Neck" (drink blood)

Vampires can turn sims into Ghouls - ever wanted to have your own Renfield? This mod is for you!

Vampire Walkbys

No vampire hair

Grand Vampires Outside Downtown

Vampires Can “Voodoo”

Vampires Can Influence For Free

🌕FOR WEREWOLVES🐺

No more turning into a werewolf every night - I use version "LBFControllycantropy(3dayaweek-nopersonnalitychange))". This one was quite important for me. Vanilla lycanthropy is quite disruptive to the life of the sim with all its hunger need swings and personality changes. This mod allows them to have some better, less hairy nights 😉

No personality change for werewolves - Alternative mod if you still want the transformation to occur at normal intervals.

Werewolves Can Always Grr

No More Stupid Werewolf Hair!

[renmackree]

🔥 Werewolves

Ask me my unpopular opinion about stuff

Alright, we're breaking it down and I don't know if it's unpopular opinions, but BOY IT'S OPINIONS.

note, this will be long so I'm sorry in advanced. Also note, this is mostly Teen Wolf Lore specific because I'm ME.

Werewolves in their shifted form are red/green colorblind.

Wolves in general can’t distinguish red from green due to color receptors. Humans have three color receptors in their eyes: blue, green and yellow; wolves have two color receptors: blue and yellow, making them red-green color blind. A wolf’s eye structure allows them to distinguish more shades of gray than humans which provides good peripheral and night vision. Meaning they can see well in low light conditions and have a wilder field of view. The structure of a wolf’s eye and ability to intake information supports the theory of werewolves having “speedy reflexes”. So let’s use that in the context of humans changing into a werewolf, that would reduce the amount of colors they could see when in wolf form due to the new limit of color receptors. Trade off, they can see in the dark and be super human with their identifications. In certain movies or shows, black and white is used when looking through the werewolf’s eyes, so this supports the theory that wolves in media are thought to be red/green color blind when using that lens.

Werewolves age at a slower rate - specifically every 7 human years they age 1 - and stop aging around 55

Dog jokes aside, your body goes through cell regeneration every 7-10 years. When you’re injured or sick, your cells are damaged. Your cells also die all the time, a natural process called apoptosis. Your body needs to replace damaged or dead cells with new, healthy ones. To create these new cells, the existing healthy cells in your body go through cell division, or mitosis. During mitosis, a cell splits into 2 cells, each with an identical set of chromosomes. These new healthy cells can then be used to help you heal. Werewolves have been shown to not "remove" issues, rather have it so slow that it no longer affects the person. Teen Wolf had Scott's Asthma return and Erica's seizures when their powers were 'paused'. This would be the same for the cell regeneration. your body is "completely new" in 7 years, so a werewolf would be at a slower rate. A 1:7 rate which just Happens to be dog years as well. Werewolves will start this process around puberty in my meta, because teenage years are when your body fully really gets that understanding of what it should be, so there. As for 55, the body starts to seriously lose grip of its DNA after 55 years, and the decay starts to kick in at that time. Werewolves wouldn't have that issue, their DNA would constantly heal and therefore would keep them at the same age for that specific point. Now if their powers were removed, this might kick start the aging back again and they might see some issues, but so long as they maintain this same healing process, they would essentially be 55 for the rest of their life both from a DNA perspective and from a visual view.

Werewolves are the superior supernatural creature in modern media

I will not be explaining further, thank you.