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lestwritewhilewaitingforajobcall · 3 years

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The Spark That Split the Seas - Poseidon x Reader x Thor

(A/N)

Hey guys I’m back! I’ve been grinding hard for a new character that I’d gotten in this game, Genshin Impact, so I’m sorry for the absence! Anyways, as always, I want to thank you all for the support on my past two stories and on my account, I truly appreciate every one of you! On a story-related note, since I’d mentioned on my previous post that I had a lot of Poseidon x Reader x Thor fics written in my drafts, I decided to post one so you guys could also join me in the feels! Any feedback would be appreciated! This was originally shorter than the final story you’re seeing now, as I’d first only written their dialogues, but as usual, I excitedly itched into making a story out of it!

This is for entertainment only. Record of Ragnarok belongs to Shinya Umemura, Takumi Fukui and Ajichika. I also do not own you, the reader.

The Spark That Split the Seas

Poseidon x Reader x Thor

For more than all the millennia the gods and other species alike had known the lonely kingdom of Atlantis, never once did the crashing waves gave way to the chirping of the largest Albatrosses until now. Otherworldly flying creatures joined with the familiar exclusively earthly ones in enjoying the ebb and flow of the ocean, albeit this time, the hungry ocean appeared more satiated and seemed to follow a regular pattern ‘from sudden crash to a long calm, to crash again then back to another lengthy calm;’ life in the sea rejoiced in this odd occurrence.

Beautiful yellow sun rays poured through the stained-glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope pattern on the large interiors of the kingdom ruled by the god of the seas, and catching the reflection of his nonchalant visage. The long, elegant dining table filled with every kind of seafood delectable imaginable also fell victim to the light, along with a figure that sat down opposite, whose invitation was clear.

Hidden from this heavenly atmosphere were the prying eyes of a little messenger bird who stood unobtrusively behind one of the tall pillars near the far end of the room, halting his slide just in time to witness this miracle:

The living bearer of the most fearsome title, the ruler of both this grandiose palace of the most precious gems and coral and all the oceans and waters, the almighty Poseidon, though against all reason and self-proved authority whatsoever, against the epics of Greek poets, was indulged, seemingly willingly, in the pleasure of having another’s company. In the shadows, Hermes’ red eyes shot wide open in shock.

Poseidon, the ever abrupt and rude god who had deemed most beings to be below him, received a guest, a still breathing one at that.

What in the gods’ name?

In a tone of haughty contempt, a grunt escaped from Poseidon’s lips. Finishing chewing the last bite of delicious food in your mouth, you nodded your head in earnest agreement with his point. Your next words were uttered with the firmness of an old sage who had all the answers, your beliefs shaped by the countless lifetimes you had lived.

“Existing is painful.” Your shoulders bobbed with your chuckle.

Although Poseidon felt a small measure of relief−a feeling that by habit had always been easy to brush-off with a condescending thought, his face betrayed nothing as his stoic features remained still. “If you agree, then why not allow me to kill you this instant?” As if to emphasize his strength, the crashing sound of dreadful combat between waves and rocks rang in the air, and you almost wished that a low rumble of thunder accompanied it, finding beauty in its loud peals, and additionally giving a volume of inspiration to Michelangelo below.

Despite your gaze being unrequited, you were sure you had the god’s attention. Since arriving here, Poseidon noted that your expression had always been smoothed into a calm, smiling one. “If you had intended to kill me, we would not be having this conversation right now.”

Poseidon sat rigid and silent.

“It’s a comfortingly tragic drama, my circle of life. I may not have been lucky to acquire a life as long as that of the gods, but I have definitely lived more times than you have.” Your words were so nonchalant, for a second there Poseidon thought you were kidding.

“That is for the simple fact that you mortals are weak, pathetic.” Lips as pink as young petunias touched the clear edge of the wine glass as Poseidon’s eyes closed, content to give over to listen.

“Yes, we are.” You paused. “But because of this frailty, we learned to adapt, evolve.”

“There is no need for evolution if you are perfect from the moment of conception. Hence why gods such as I, will always be above you.”

“You’re correct. Humans will never become gods after all,” Again, Poseidon found himself absorbing your words like a sponge. At the same time, he experienced an occasional sharp prick at the edge of his emotions, as if signaling him to pull back. “The same as gods will never become like humans.”

“Extremely foolish of you to think that trash is worthy of the shiniest Orichalcum. Your race has been created by us, for us, and will therefore always be inferior.”

“Humans are inferior in all aspects, this, is a fact. It is hence no accident that there is a history of rebellion and consequently, a false notion of superiority. But to be able to look beyond this, is to understand that we never truly intended to surpass animals nor the gods themselves. The nature of our desire: everything was meant for either survival or man’s search for meaning.

“We are by nature flawed and inconsistent creatures. And as you have no doubt seen for yourself as well, despite reaching all our goals, achieving our wildest dreams, we have never reached a position where satisfaction is achieved.” Keenness made your words sound almost heroic. There was a twinkle in your eye and a lilt in your voice, and Poseidon found that now he had a much clearer picture of your reputation for an irrepressible desire to see what is beyond your reach as you questioned: “If I may ask, as I have seen the gods share this sentiment of looking for meaning, do you feel an inkling of the same?”

When Poseidon had put the wine glass down, he hesitated a moment, his supposedly closed mind wavering between doubt and certainty. He would never come to understand this, nor admit to feeling this dissonance, but at last, he shook his head at his consideration, trying to reduce the unpleasantness he felt by the same way he had always used to get out of extremely rare difficulties.

“Do not disrespect me, mortal.” He knew himself that it was an empty threat.

“Those were never my intentions.” You bowed with great respect, but there was at the same time apparent in your manner the consciousness that while Poseidon would never in any way confirm your statement, he did not necessarily refute it. Your heart rose in gratitude as you regarded him with a look of affection, believing in your intellectual companionship.

“Lord Poseidon, as the fearsome god of the seas, what is the meaning of life for you?” The god surveyed your reflection in one of the golden plates, and maybe it was because he had acted in a charitable way towards you, but he saw brightness, a refreshing difference, as if there were no heavy shackles to weigh you down.

“My husband has always been in search of a worthy opponent. What about you?”

It was like a pin came dangerously close to the rational bubble of Poseidon’s beliefs. But then your words penetrated his mind, and he berated himself for almost falling prey, yet…

“Perfection.” Poseidon blurted out loud, full of self-indulgence, but uncomfortable with the thought of pity reeking from his pores, a role that was clearly uncharacteristic of him.

Tilting your head, your brows meshed inquisitively upon hearing this. “This presents the conundrum; you are already perfect, as should all the gods. Since you have explained, gods have always been pristine, perfect, the moment you all were born.

“So, if you have already achieved the meaning and purpose of your life, what is there left to live for?” There was something entrancing in your guileless form, and Poseidon was displeased that another should feel such an interest in your wise, unguarded character. “And if gods have already reached perfection, why is there an endeavor still for the dross of earth?”

For the first time in Poseidon’s life, he was receptive of contraries. Not one single time, had he ever been in the position where he listened, much more considered the act of interpretation. What he said goes, but for some frustrating reason, he was coming to terms of mutual respect; whenever he was sitting opposite you, chin in hand, the more he caught the flame.

Quickly, he stopped that train of thought and he seamed his mouth, stoic. Only his eyes betrayed a spark of defiance. “Stop asking ridiculous questions.”

Again, you bowed. “I apologize if I have overstepped such boundaries.”

“You better be.” With a look of eager inquiry, Poseidon asked, “Why are you not afraid of me? Is it because you are confident Thor would protect you?” One thing that distressed him was that the more he was alone with you, the more he saw your hands, always ungloved, noticed the wedding-ring on your finger. That closed circle excluded him, his face registering the insult. “As expected from a repulsive weakling,”

“No. I know he would be there for me whenever I should need him, and also the times when I don’t.” You said still a smile on your mouth.

Although you were unaware of the eagle eyes that were watching your every move, you had the instinct. You did not need all the information, and you had nothing to hide. Your shoulders were loose, back wasn’t ramrod straight and you exuded a carefree attitude. “The sole reason why my fears have dissipated is because perhaps, I enjoy your conversation.”

To say this whole exchange took Hermes by surprise would be an understatement. After the initial expression of shock, he laughed lowly.

You continued, “I have already accepted your beliefs. No one is entitled to those except yourself.

“If I were to die from imparting what my beliefs are, that is simply fate, a tragedy, but nonetheless, fate. Of course, I would try my best to avoid disappearing from this lifetime, seeing as I have made a promise with my husband, to continue to fight for my life, shall needed, until the very end.” Poseidon’s grip tightened the slightest bit.

“I believe that despite our obvious differences, we are simply two being who each have our own unique experiences that shape our views and beliefs. For hundreds of millennia, I’d seen calamity from all angles; mainly conflicts over a universal truth,

“But so long as there are questions, there will never be one solid concrete truth. And I’m okay with that.” You concluded.

Compliments never rolled off Poseidon’s tongue easily, since in his view they were nothing but hollow words. But this time, he could hardly slip a word in bad taste. He thought it pleasant to hear you, but it could not distract him from the uninvited presence in his throne room.

“You’re a heretic.” His usual strong voice beckoned your attention, discerning the sternness on the table of his expression to be forced. No matter, you had just enough of a last glimpse to see his face looking younger in repose.

“I have been labeled as such.” You noticed the unique rhythm of the crashing waves seemed to have settled along the sand grains, and you admitted it was so beautiful and timeless.

“You’re dismissed.” Poseidon believed in being straightforward with affairs. Since the conversation has ended, the final interchange of words was not likely to be a substantive one. Though this was his original reason, the face at the forefront of his mind right now was not yours but Hermes’.

You stood up and curtsied to show your gratitude. “Very well. It was splendid to be in your company this afternoon.”

Blue eyes followed you as you began walking away, and he watched you until you went out of sight when you began to ascend the Skíðblaðnir, a ship so completely reserved only for you by the Kingdom of the Norse. Then Poseidon’s ears turned toward the messenger’s direction.

Hermes quickly dashed to Poseidon and knelt to greet him with such a great respect akin to the expectations all elderly gods have always expected of their younger ones.

“We gods are perfect beings from the very start; therefore, we do not plot schemes nor engage in disagreements.” The implication registered with a jolt, and Hermes felt his mouth open as the real reason for your invitation became clear. He fought the urge to look at where Adamas had died brutally as a lowlife, not failing to recognize that this was the exact opposite of that faded history.

Finding quiet when Hermes immediately left, the god of the seas stared at his dominion, taking deep breaths of the air, not feeling the normal icy sting carried by the ocean. Over again he dwelt upon in his conversations with you, interested to find out if the Norse god of thunder had been able to sustain a similar type of conversation.

The very first quiver of interest sparked through Poseidon and though he did not recognize it nor perceived it, he understood the most important things, the only ones he ever needed to:

You did not seek validation nor attention. You had no fear of death, neither of the hardships of life.

Your depths of wisdom were unparalleled throughout the realms, which he would comment on its wasted potential, however, he knew Hermes already understood that part of it.

And the god of messenger did, as the word got around slowly but surely:

“There would always be those who dare to brave the ocean’s roar, but there was only one who withstood it.”

#poseidon x reader #thor x reader #snv x reader #snv poseidon #snv thor #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv poseidon x reader #snv thor x reader #record of ragnarok poseidon x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok thor x reader #poseidon x reader x thor #snv poseidon x reader x snv thor

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clouds-rambles · 3 years

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Painful pasts and painful presents

Pairings; (Romantic) Diluc x reader, (Platonic) Barbatos/Venti & reader

Warning(s); angst, break-up, tears

Summary; Anon suggestion- Diluc breaking things off with (GN) reader cause their too secretive and things of those sorts, and the last thing they say to him before leaving is “in the 1000 years i’ve been alive, i don’t think there will be anyone i will ever love more than i love you.”

Words; 555 words

Notes; be gentle this is the first thing i've written in a while <3, we stan angst on the tl

Keep reading under the cut!

You knew this would happen eventually. You got too happy, too comfortable. Something was just too good and blissful.

"I can handle secrets, but I just feel like I can't ask you anything about your past- especially when you know so much about mine" Diluc tells you. His emotions are, hard to work out. Diluc doesn't deal with this emotion much, he wants to cry, yell smash something, get comfort. He's confused and small. And you're not sure if you can give him the answers he wants

"Di..." you trail off unsure what to tell him "My past is long and often painful... and I'm not sure how to tell you things without you seeing me differently" you confess looking to your hands

"Tell me the good things. When you laughed, I don't need to know the painful things. I feel like I barely know you" he retorts, his voice sounding on the brink of collapse. Your heart aches

"I..." you pause frowning with a sigh "I can't Diluc" he nods a few times

"I think... I think it's time we follow our own paths. I don't think you really want me" he confesses with a strong chest. You blink a few times process both his words and the emotions running through your chest. Your eyes bubble with tears nodding

"Of.. of course" you lean forwards to touch Diluc, but you retract your hand when you see him move his arm away from your touch. It's fair. It's just. Because you're scared, scared of the man that you love so much would completely see you differently knowing who you really are. What you really are.

While you're not spoken about in the history books, rumours of the one known as 'the leader of the winds' is known. Especially to someone who's read up on the leader. That's why you liked Diluc in the beginning, you met him taking a book out about you from the library. He caught your eye. And originally all you wanted to do was have an intellectual conversation about your history, much like Zhongli does, you found yourself cherishing and loving this mortal in a way that you never let yourself do so before.

You knew saying goodbye to him was going to be hard. But... you thought you'd get to see him live old at least. Be apart of his life

You watch Diluc blinking desperately to get rid of tears. Your hands grab your jacket and start walking outside. Diluc leads you out standing in the threshold of the door to the manor. The door that held so many great memories.

"In all the.." you pause catching your sob before it comes out "In all the millennia that I've been alive. I've never met anyone that I love more than you" you pause again, catching yet another sob "I'm sorry I couldn't be the lover you need"

You turn turning into a wisp and disappearing into the night. Ignoring the sounds of Diluc's protest asking what you mean.

You find Barbatos sat upon his own statue and you manifest back into your human form. You sit behind him crying. He doesn't ask questions, the wind has already whispered what has transpired to him.

All he can do is be the rock that you have been to him so much.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact angst

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

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because I could not stop for death

because I could not stop for death / he kindly stopped for me / the carriage held but just ourselves / and immortality ~ Emily Dickinson

Danny Fenton was dying, properly this time.

Somehow, in the back of his head and in his worst nightmares, he knew it would end this way: bleeding on the floor of his parents’ lab where it had all began. He was so hot he felt like his skin was on fire, blood and ectoplasm were dripping all over him and his lungs and heart were working overtime to try in vain to keep him alive a moment longer. He’d imagined at the time that there would be more screaming but death, in the end, was turning out to be a quiet little affair. A lonely table set for one.

“Danny, Danny come on, you-you gotta slow down your breathing, just relax, for me, please,” Sam moaned, more than making up for his lack of noise. She was shaking and touching him all over, his chest, his face, his hair. Normally she jumped right into action but she had to know, deep down, that there was nothing she could do. All that was left was to watch her panic and cry, it wasn’t his favorite image.

“Vlad!” He heard Tucker scream cry into the phone, “please it’s Tucker, Danny’s dying I think. The Fentons had some new invention, something about his core, please we don’t know what to do!”

Ugh Vlad, he was probably going to be so happy Danny was on his way out. He wasn’t looking much forward to his last images being his archenemy gloating. Tucker hung up and reached down to grasp Danny’s hand so hard it hurt. “Don’t worry dude, Vlad’s coming. He knows so much about you half ghosts that you’ll be fixed up on no time.” Right, Danny was already dead. If calling Vlad, feeling like he did something, helped Tucker move on then he’d deal with it.

Danny tilted his head to the side where Sam’s fingernails were carding through his hair. It was getting harder to see with the blood pouring out of his eyes but he looked at her, and tried to memorize her face. He’d never been able to tell her how much he loved her, that any day spent with her was a blessing. Tucker too, his best bro and a part of his soul. His best friends in the whole wide world, through thick and thin. God, he was going to miss them.

“Glurk,” he said, trying to convey those feeling but the fluids in his mouth and airway made it impossible. “Blerh.”

“Shh shh shh,” Sam soothed, “it’s okay, don’t try to talk.”

“Daniel!” He heard Vlad’s voice shriek as he materialized in front of the portal. Sam and Tucker were violently pushed out the way. Danny wanted to be angry at his loved ones being taken away in his final moments but anger was for the living, he barely had the energy to breathe. This death was too long and too short all at once. He made eye contact with Vlad who all at once lost the frantic edge to his tone and and instead knelt on the floor. “Oh my dear boy. What did they do to you?”

“What is going on?” Sam demanded, shoving her way back in. Danny was glad, he could see again like this. “Why aren’t you doing something!”

“There’s nothing to be done,” Vlad said in a flat, monotone, he picked up one of Danny’s hands and patted it gently. “His core is dying, it’s like a ghost’s heart. It contains their very essence, it is from which everything they are comes from. If Jack and Maddie somehow disrupted it then there’s nothing anyone can do to save him.”

“But he’s human too,” Tucker defended, grabbing Danny’s other hand. His human warm skin burned but the contact felt so good, he twitched his fingers closer to his friend’s. “He-he doesn’t need a core, he’s already got a heart. So, so he doesn’t have powers, we can do normal again.”

“You-” Vlad hissed before taking a calming breath. “The accident that made Daniel like this irreparably altered him. His core was as much a part of keeping him alive as his other organs, without it, his body is shutting down.” Vlad turned down to look Danny in the eye and saw true, genuine grief in those hateful red eyes.

“I cannot imagine the agony you are going through, I’m so sorry. I’d say it will be over soon but,” a hitch that sounded almost like a sob if it was coming from anyone other than Vlad. “But you’ve hovered on the edge of death for years, son, and you’ve always been such a fighter. You have minutes at most but those minutes are an eternity when you’re suffering.”

Sam and Tucker’s sobbing blended together in the background, Vlad was saying something with a miserable, stunned expression. The swirling of the portal in the background seemed louder than anything, louder than his heart beat pounding and pounding as it ran it’s last race.

“Daniel, Danny,” he focused his eyes back on Vlad who had a stubborn, unhappy set to his brow. “Do you want me to make the pain stop? An ectoblast to your chest will end your life instantly.”

“Don’t you dare touch him,” Sam shrieked, coming back into view and looking like she was trying to fight Vlad off. “You do anything to him and I’ll kill you!” Tucker just sat and stared at him, like he too was trying memorize Danny’s face.

“It’s a mercy, Samantha or do you want his last moments on earth to be drowning on the blood in his lungs.”

“Sam, he has a point. I don’t- I don’t think we can fix this.”

“No! No we always fix things, I’ll do it myself if I have to!”

Danny’s vision was starting to go, more black than anything else. He closed his eyes and readied himself for the inevitable.

“Time Out,” Danny opened his eyes and found he was no longer in pain. He was standing up and apart from where he’d previously been lying. Sam had her hands in Vlad’s face and the older hybrid was snarling something at her. Tucker was midmotion trying to stand up, presumably to get Sam but the three of them were frozen in the moment. Danny turned and found Clockwork floating, looking very out of place in his parents lab. “Good evening, Danny.”

“You that short on cash that you work part time as a grim reaper?” Danny quipped out of habit. He looked down at his body and grimaced a bit, that wasn’t a pretty sight. No doubt traumatizing for Tucker and Sam. God how were they going to explain this to his parents? “Gonna ferry me across the River Styx? I don’t have two pennies but I think I have a bloodied $10 on me.”

“You’re core is dying and you have 17 seconds left in this world before all your organs give out and finish the process you began when you turned on your parent’s ghost portal,” Clockwork explained as he changed into child form.

“O-okay,” Danny said shakily, trying to be brave even when he was so, so scared. He was going out whether he wanted it or not but he refused to leave crying. “Nice of you to come say goodbye then but, uh but unless you have something to say then you should let me go back. No one knows better than me that you can’t outrun death. Thanks but I’m uh I’m ready.”

Clockwork stared at him for a bit, not sure how long, time was weird like this but he changed forms a few times. “You’re quite the remarkable young man, Danny Fenton.”

“Uh thanks,” Danny added, once more looking at his body which had, according to Clockwork, a 17 second expiration date. “What’s going to happen? Am I going to become a ghost? Does heaven or hell exist for someone like me?”

“I don’t get to decide what happens, I merely see options,” Clockwork stated easily, taking his time. “If you die naturally you’ll become ghost, a mere shadow of who you are now and one who would fade fairly quickly. You don’t have strong enough anger or regrets to tie you in the real world for long.” Not great but okay he supposed, hell for his friends and family though. “You could let Plasmius deliver his mercy kill, destroying what’s left of your ghost core and ensuring you do not come back.” Better, probably won’t help the Fruitloop’s instability but he can’t save everyone.

“That one comes with it’s own caveat but I’ll get to that in a moment,” Clockwork explained. “There is a third option where you get up off the floor and walk away.” Danny blinked then looked back at his body which certainly wasn’t walking anywhere but into a plush casket. Clockwork opened his hands and the Ghost King’s Crown materialized in his hands. “If you accept your claim to the King’s Cown, it will revitalize your core and your life would be saved.”

Danny blinked.

“By sealing Pariah Dark, you won by proxy and established a legitimate claim to the throne. The Zone has been without a king for millennia, most have forgotten the old rules. Those who remembered were not too keen on a half-ghost child assuming leadership and kept you in the dark. If Plasmius ends your life then your claim transfers over to him, which he is aware of. It had been his plan all along to trick you into defeating Pariah so he could steal the Crown from you at a later date, a much easier opponent.”

Danny’s mind was overloaded with information, he didn’t know what to focus on first. He stared at his 17 seconds from death face and tried to process it all. Crown? Claim? Vlad?

“Of course,” Clockwork tutted, “he didn’t plan on your dying and in such a gruesome fashion. If he kills you and takes your claim, he would spend his remaining years ruling the Ghost Zone in a just, controlled fashion for your memory. He destroys all the stable portals and keeps the ghost and human worlds separate.” Clockwork became and old man and titled his head, “it’s not a bad timeline, all things considered.”

“And if I take it?” Danny asked quietly.

“You’re compassionate, brave and motivated, you have all the makings of a revolutionary king,” Clockwork smiled. “The Zone would experience and unprecedented era of peace, there would be positive interactions between human and ghosts for the first time since life and death split into two. Your name would spoken with reverence for the rest of time.”

“But I don’t want to be king,” Danny frowned.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Clockwork stated. “Which is why I am giving you the choice. If you pass peacefully there will be no one to claim the Crown and life will continue on, ghost attacks and all. If Plasmius kills you, he becomes an effective but unmemorable king. If you take the Crown, you can get the chance to tell Sam and Tucker how much you love them.”

Danny rubbed at his face, he didn’t want to die but he’d be sealing away his entire future with a move like this. He didn’t even know if the Crown would let him go with death, maybe he’d die and be stuck as the Ghost King until his core finally gave out lord in who knows how long. Eternity was an awful long time to carry such a responsibility. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, too afraid of the answer.

“Is there ever a timeline I became an astronaut?” He asked instead. Clockwork hummed, seemingly unsurprised by Danny’s non-sequitur.

“Yes, in one of the few universes where you never walked into the portal. You never go into space what with human politics putting a halt on the programs but you work for NASA. You leave Amity Park at 17 and don’t come back save for your parents’ dual funeral.” He paused and Danny felt read down to his very bones, “from the moment you became half ghost you were always heading for this moment. The circumstances varied but it always came down to you and the Crown. Time is straining to continue, to see how this drama plays out. Will you accept it and all the joy and grief that comes with it?”

Danny looked over at Vlad, still mid-sneer but there was a scared desperation in his face. He and Vlad sniped at each other all the time but Danny didn’t really hate him and he didn’t think Vlad did either. Leaving him alone, plus making him be king was a heavy burden to put on his enemy.

Sam and Tuck probably wouldn’t recover from this, he’d put them through so much already but he just knew that they’d never be the same. Could he do that to them? Take the easy way out and leave them to suffer? Mom and Dad didn’t deserve to come home to a dead son, the truth would come out and they’d never forgive themselves. Jazz certainly wouldn’t, she was 2 states over at University but he could already hear her angry, grief-stricken screams.

Death, death was quiet. It was quiet and merciful and sad, but it was also easy. And Danny Fenton had never once taken the easy route. He reached out and took and the crown before shakily placing it on his head. He gasped, throwing his head back as his core swelled, taking up residence once more right next to his heart. Clockwork smiled, looking like the cat who ate the canary.

“The Crown of Fire, pardon me the Crown changes with each core, the Crown of Ice is now yours as is the Zone. Your reign begins now but so too does the rest of your life. People are waiting for you. Time in.” Danny slammed back into awareness on the floor of his parents’ lab, the floor he’d almost died on twice.

He sat up as cold radiated off his body, causing frost to crawl down his arms and along the floor. Sam, Tucker and Vlad, who’d been frozen up until now, jumped back to life. There was a new, familiar weight on his head that he didn’t dare acknowledge.

He squeezed his eyes shut and said a silent goodbye to a quiet, normal life. It wouldn’t be all bad, he could be happy like this but the Crown still felt like a iron manacle around his neck. But he got used to the ghost powers, he could get used to this too. Maybe one day he won’t look at the stars and say ‘what if?’

“Danny!” Sam shouted, throwing herself into his arms soon followed by Tucker. Their warm weight, their relieved sobs, their shaky breaths in his air, now this was something worth living for. He squeezed them tightly.

“But how dude, you were at death’s door!” Tucker asked, still not letting go.

“You accepted the Crown,” Vlad said evenly, “I wasn’t aware you even knew about your claim. Who told you?”

“You don’t know everything, Vlad,” Danny sighed, sitting himself upright. Ugh his shirt was covered in blood and ectoplasm. He needed to trash these clothes before his parents freaked. And find a way to hide the floating ice crown on his head.

“Even an old man can be surprised every now and again,” Vlad said wearily. He stood up to his full height before startling Danny by dipping down to one knee. “Then allow me to be the first to welcome my new king and wish him well.”

“I thought you wanted this,” Danny questioned.

“I do, I did,” Vlad said, unusually off balance. “To be quite honest, I’m not sure how to feel about it but, right now, I’m just immeasurably happy you’re alive, little badger. Now I best be off, enjoy your kingdom, my liege, I’ll be sure to come bother you some time soon.” Vlad disappeared in a swirl of pink leaving just him, Sam and Tucker still clinging to him.

Danny may have a kingdom, a job he didn’t want and his whole life decided in a spur of the moment choice, but he also had something very important. He squeezed his friends tightly.

“I love you guys, thank you for being my friends even though I have the worst ideas for activities. Dying? On a Sunday night? How lame is that?” Sam laughed, a bit hysterical but it was real and it made Danny feel weightless.

“Don’t do that again, buddy,” Tucker breathed into his shoulder. “So you gonna explain what just happened and why you’re apparently the Ghost King or something?”

“Yeah, yeah I will but let’s get changed first. Mom and Dad will be home soon and I think I’m going to need to have a conversation with them about my new job.”

#danny phantom #i was watching forever phantom and said 'i should kill danny' and then i fucking didn't #im obsessed with ghost king danny as end game #Im not sure this is the route I would want to go but I want him to end up woth tje crown #its bitter sweet bc its a *lifelong (possibly afterlife) commitment that he didnt get a choice in #he will be happy and he will be a good king but it wasnt his choice and he'll always regret it a little #i love clockwork but he's a bit shady and will always work in favor of the timeline #anyway happy fucking sunday bitches #have some homemade angst #also i typed this directly in tumblr and almost hit the power screen on my computer instead of backspace #god was trying to stop me from publishing but i overcame #Only did one quick edit Im too tired to care anymore #lmk if you want it on ao3

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silkylious · 3 years

Text

“I love you. Truly, deeply, eternally.” (Lucifer x Reader)

fandom: obey me! shall we date?

pairing: lucifer x gn reader

warnings: angst, fluff (mildly lol), suggestive (nothing explicit though!), bittersweet, ambiguous ending (??), unedited

wc: 2.1k

“Lucifer?” you called out to him on a whim, eyes trailing the seconds ticking away on his grandfather-clock.

“Yes?” he didn’t spare you a glance as he worked methodically through his second hill of paperwork; a heaping stack of duties assigned to him by Diavolo, endless bills–a consequence of Mammon’s latest spending spree, you ought to talk to him about those soon–and the sort piled neatly on his pristine desk, slowly but surely decreasing in size as Lucifer burned through the tedious task with unwavering efficiency. You felt exhausted just watching him work. Lucifer? He hadn’t so much as blinked more than three times in the past five minutes (yes, you counted). Obsidian sleeves rolled up just past his elbows, hair perfectly framing his face with one strand slightly out of place–hot–and a gentle crease between his brows (the only observable hint alluding to the mounting stress on his shoulders). He looked positively delectable, nothing like someone who’s been working diligently for hours without any breaks. But that just served as a testament to the fundamental difference between the two of you, you supposed.

“I’m in love with you,”

That made his meticulous fingers pause in their tracks.

“Pardon?”

As it turned out, his ears hadn’t, in fact, deceived him. You repeated the confession as if it weighed nothing on your tongue. You were strangely calm given the words you’d just blurted out; he almost didn’t recognize you. An unfamiliar shade of desperation painted all over your face, and yet your voice bared to him a serene conviction, one he’d never heard from you before. Lucifer’s heartbeat stumbled in your wake.

Basking in your courageous display just a second longer, he sighed. Too bad he’d have to mutilate such a pretty sight so soon.

That didn’t go exactly as he’d planned. The harsh rejection barely deterred you, leaving only a petulant pout on your lips and a promise that you’d come talk to him later.

Lucifer was anything but stupid. He knew that he let things stray too far between you, knew it was his fault for not pulling away from your kisses and instead indulging you (and himself) to the fullest. His fault for ignoring the guilt that settled deep in his gut like hunks of steel when you looked at him like he’d never experienced before. Lucifer had lived for many millennia, had relished the warmth of countless passionate lovers and faceless hookups, none of which had ever set him alight from the inside out like your adoring gaze had. It terrified him how after all these years, watching humans thrive and collapse over and over again, he thought he’d seen everything there is to see, all that humans had to offer. And then you come along, reinventing what love meant right before his eyes, with a simple look no less.

He never intended for you to fall in love with him, and he never intended to reciprocate. Had he been mortal, maybe things wouldn’t be so complicated. But life dealt a cruel hand, and he wasn’t. A relationship like yours was doomed to crumble in heartache from the start, it was best to stop it before things went too far. That was the plan anyway.

You didn’t share the same sentiment.

With one last exasperated sigh, Lucifer focused his attention back on his duties. He didn’t know how long he could hold up against your persistence, and honestly he preferred not to dwell on it. Whatever outcome lied for the both of you in the near future, itching one step closer with each tick on the clock, he’d face it head on when it was time.

Meanwhile, you laid wide awake, in your bed, rethinking every decision that led you here. You didn’t regret your confession, nor were you keen on giving up, but Lucifer’s ruthless rejection, his vehement claim that a relationship between a human and a demon is destined to end in tragedy festered a bud of doubt in you. You noted pettily that he hadn’t outright denied any feelings for you. How could he? Lucifer was many, ugly things but a liar’s not one of them; you wouldn’t believe him even if he did lie, not with how delicately he holds your hand in his gloved one, not with how heartbreakingly beautiful he was when he lets you in at his lowest, stripped completely of his pride.

You knew though, that as much as Lucifer was a creature of the past, he was a creature of regrets.

Somehow, you’d managed to reach the heart of the Avatar of Pride himself, bestowing a porcelain touch on it and subsequently rocking the monotony of his endless life. Despite the acknowledgment of both your feelings, you weren’t naïve enough to dismiss how his heart drums thousands of years apart from yours and would continue to do so long after yours gave its last valiant pump.

He was a creature of the past you realized; humans intently watch minutes, hours, years approach because there’s only so much of them live out, there’s only so much to do in a lifetime. Naturally it would be counterintuitive to waste scarce time on the past. The immortal have no such concern. When time is limitless, and life is all but a blur of recycled events, its only instinctive to lose interest in what’s to come. And you guessed, maybe there was a strange comfort in the predictability of eternity, maybe that’s why Lucifer was so offput by the notion of something serious yet temporary, especially romance.

You decided. You wouldn’t let him look back and ponder what ifs in that stubborn head of his, not while you were still breathing. With regained determination, you glanced one last time at your countertop alarm and entered a dreamless slumber.

Not even two days later, three consecutive raps on his door made Lucifer rub at his temples for the nth time and begrudgingly called for you to enter. Piled on his desk were several stacks of papers (as was the usual), though, that night he was in a particularly sour mood. Ever since your confession, he’d been feeling uneasy, Diavolo hurling more work at him last minute was only pushing him to his wit’s end.

“Lucifer,” he hummed in response, not bothering to conceal his growing agitation. “we need to talk,”

Ah, there it was. He was wondering when you’d confront him again.

“I believe I made myself quite clear last time,” he sighed, dropping his pen and finally meeting your eyes. “If this is about your feelings again then I’m sorry but I can’t–”

“But why? Can you really say that what we have isn’t special at all?” your lower lip quivered just a bit and Lucifer had to fight the immediate reflex of holding you close and hushing your worries. His impassiveness quickly arose frustration out of you. “God Damnit, Lucifer! All I want is to be with you while I still can! To die with no regrets, knowing you’ll be there with me, but it’s very fucking hard to do that when you’re too scared of the future to do something about–about us!”

It was a low blow to go after his pride, you knew that, but he wasn’t giving you much to work with.. Rubbing salt in a ghastly wound had certainly done the trick, the dimmed crimson that pooled just below his pupil began to shine scarlet. You would have found it gorgeous had it not been imbued with near murderous intent. Lucifer’s poker face was rapidly breaking, a horrid mix of anger and melancholy sat heavy in his throat. He was looking straight at you, but his eyes were somewhere else, some time else. He was staring hundreds of years behind you at an unhealed, poorly bandaged cut. An everlasting guilt he carried with him everywhere.

“What would you know about regret?” he breathed out the words like they’re bullets, whatever restraint he’d managed to scarp together deteriorating. He stepped closer, each stride bigger than the last as he closed the distance between you, a perfect diamond manifesting on his forehead and you could see the beginnings of black feathers sprouting from his back. “Do you have the slightest clue what a blessing mortality is? Do you have any idea how agonizing it is to live with your regrets and not be able to die with them?”

“You’re right. I don’t,” you stood your ground. “But, do you really want to live with one more regret to bear?”

He kissed you. He kissed you like he hated you, animosity and anger and pain and, most prominently, pining spilling from his lips. Lucifer parted from you just as quickly as he’d initiated the kiss, taking the time to let his irritation bleed out of him, until he was left grappling with (frankly terrifying) longing and adoration. Just this once, he’d take a leap of faith, he’d break his own rigorous code and take the risk of undying heartache in the future to be with you in the now.

One kiss turned into many, and soon you found yourselves stumbling your way from his office to his bedroom. He couldn’t get enough of you, the thought that some day he would be deprived of you broke him and made him yearn to cherish you just as much. Precious things aren’t meant for longevity, he learned. All the more reason to treasure them when given the chance. You were pushed onto his bed and not once did his hands and mouth and breath leave your skin; he couldn’t bear sever that connection.

Before long, your hands were pined to the mattress, fingers tightly laced with his as if he was petrified the moment will break and a thousand years would pass you by the instant he let go.

“I love you. Truly and deeply.”

Neither of you heard the clock strike midnight.

Lucifer was well-acquainted with sleepless nights. He was no stranger to the prick at the corner of his eye, excruciatingly familiar with midnight’s cold, lonely touch. But this one was different. Where usually lied a cool emptiness in his sheets, your warm, inviting body was just in reach. Where the corners of his mind were usually plagued by past mistakes and sorrowful repentance, you were all he could think about. He reflected on your words now that the high of emotions had worn off. He still disagreed with you on many things and, if he was being true to himself, it would take more than one night to abandon his reluctance, much more. But he was willing to put in his fair share of effort. He was willing to do many things for you, he mused. You were right about one thing though, regardless of whether or not he acted on his feelings, your parting would hurt all the same. Part of him was still resentful that he let himself fall so deeply in love with you, and a part of him knew it couldn’t be helped. You’d carved a home for yourself out of his heart, invited yourself in and declared pompously you’d be there to stay, and he’d be damned to hell all over again if he said he didn’t like that.

Pulling you closer to leech off your warmth, for the first time in forever, he dreamt of the future, a future with you.

Snapping out his reverie, Lucifer refocused his vision on the framed picture before him. It’s been a couple dozen years, the pain dulled into a hollow longing, and yet not a single regret weighed on his back. He was astonished, how you, who had lived but a fraction of his own lifetime, had such impeccable foresight. He lays in bed every night and morning thanking you for not giving up, knowing that if you had, he’d be spending the rest of his infinite days in self-loathing regret.

All Lucifer could ask for now is a little guidance. What was he to do now? Was he even capable of falling in love again after you? Would he allow it? All questions that began frequenting his head since you’re no longer there to occupy it. He only knew is that he’d love you, and love you, and love you until this world fell apart. He toyed with the idea of reincarnation. It certainly wasn’t out of the realm of possibility; he saw you in everything he did. Strange how you’d taught him more about appreciating every day’s mundanities than he had in the many eons he’s been alive. Lucifer wonders about the possibility of you donning the same white wings he once had back in the Celestial Realm. If you ever did, he wonders about the complications that would arise from that, he wonders if you’d even remember him. All Lucifer was left with was a simple truth. If you ever came back, whichever form you may take, he’d welcome you back into the adobe of his heart without a second thought.

He ran his thumb over your smile, a bittersweet acceptance in his own.

“I love you. Truly, deeply, eternally.”

Obey me! taglist: @katsucookie @strwbry-m1lk (you wanted to be tagged in this one lol) join my taglist here! <3

#obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x y/n #obey me lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer #obey me #obey me shall we date #lucifer angst

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fulltimemoaner · 3 years

Text

Zhongli is prosecuted for giving his Gnosis to the Tsaritsa, leaving him and Childe no choice than to flee to Snezhnaya.

Basically, some thieves cut Zhongli’s hair and Childe slaughters them because he really liked his hair.

Childe’s warm hand had felt comforting on his waist, even if he was hidden in a cloak under the warm sun of Liyue, being sneaked out of his homeland like the fugitive that he had become, like the land below him had forgotten the gentle rumbling of his energy and the security of his spears. He had fought back the urge to cry, thousands of years of protecting his safe harbour pointing their treacherous fingers at him. Yet, unlike Azhdaha, there was no bitterness, no disgust towards his beloved humans that had so willingly shunned him after news of his contract with the Tsaritsa had surfaced. In fact, the adoring citizens of Liyue had issued a warrant for him, for the Archon’s head that had wished to sign with the Fatui and sell out their safety.

Zhongli did not wish for the dominion of his beliefs, nor for acceptance, because mortal life was too brief and brittle to understand the gamble of him keeping his Gnosis when he could feel the claws of erosion leeching into his sanity. To their eyes, he had been their loving and protective God, who couldn’t be wrong, who would continue to reign for the millennia to come. The rusty floorboards had creaked underneath his feet, and he had caught the last traces of his homeland’s sun before he had been ushered to the basement of the ship for the first few hours, until they had been a safe distance from Liyue.

The adepti had weeped for this outcome, yet he had begged them not to rain down their vengeance on the mortals, to be gentle and understanding. He had entrusted them with the continuous protection of their harbour.

And the next air he breathed was that of Snezhnaya, the first light he saw was cold and fragile. He had emerged from his murky cabin in the early morning and had approached the railing that separated them from the freezing ocean. The rippling wind whipped back the hood of the heavy coat Ajax had provided him with, and now his hair waved in the wind, his eyes staring emptily into the distance as his skin itched from the cold. The Tsaritsa had accepted him as a fugitive asking for protection, and now, as his hands gripped the railing, he realised he hadn’t been that far away from home since the Archon War.

He looked up, feeling the soft tears that clung to his eyelashes freezing over, the sun obscured by a thick layer of clouds. How he missed the gentle breeze already.

The same went for Snezhnaya itself, it was cold enough to make his breath catch in his throat and his lungs ache. Ajax had taken his scarf off and wrapped it around his neck at the sound of his laboured breathing, then adjusted it to make sure it was covering his mouth and nose. Zhongli’s eyes had been curious as to why the ginger had been so gentle the past couple days, even the snark and edge having left his voice. Perhaps he felt for him. At least the gaze of the locals was gentle and welcoming, for the most part, offering him local delicacies and flowers before he and Childe could even reach his home. The Harbinger had been welcomed back like a hero, with huge bouquets and a massive meal prepared by his family.

Zhongli had been catatonic, at best, but at least, he had found some comfort in talking to the children, who were, as always, excited and easily impressed by his stories of dragons and extinct creatures.

He had stayed indoors for the first couple of days, too reluctant to go exploring on these foreign lands, but eventually, his confidence started building up again, so he picked up the small bag of money that Childe left for him every morning. -Zhongli had given his allowance of the two previous days to the little kids, since he hadn’t gone outside and concepts such as saving were nonexistent in his brain-

The attire, that he was getting used to. He wasn’t a huge fan of wearing boots, but he could say their smooth leather sealed him from the snow pretty well, and that the heavy coat felt strangely comforting around his shoulders. More than once, he had overheard people calling him the golden devil, which he considered to be quite endearing in its own, clueless way.

He stepped by a merchant’s booth with imported stones, including what they described as Liyuen Cor Lapis and Noctilucous Jades. He leaned in a bit closer for observation, and the merchant seemed to shift uncomfortably, which pretty much told Zhongli that these were, in fact, fake. He straightened up again, unable to resist teasing the merchant. “Are these imported straight from the chasm?”

The shopkeeper’s eyes seemed to go wide, and he quickly tried to dodge the question. Thankfully, for him, a whistle tore through their ears and made the young foreigner turn, his eyes narrowed.

“Lovely accessory you have there, good sir.” A young man smiled, accompanied by three others. “Looks like the real thing too.” The Snezhnayan man caressed the piece of jewellery that held Zhongli’s hair into a neat ponytail in a leery way. The ex archon didn’t move, only observed with caution, his piercing gaze saying more than words ever could. “Say, you aren’t, by any chance, the Tsaritsa’s guest from Liyue harbour?”

The other men chuckled and Zhongli glanced at the merchant, who started packing up his items hurriedly, seemingly intimidated by the gang. “Why, yes, I am.” He said neutrally, his voice a notch lower than friendly.

“Huh, you have nerve, saying that so openly.” The Snezhnayan’s fist twisted around the half-golden ponytail and pulled Zhongli’s head back. “You owe us, since we so willingly welcomed you here.” The stranger smirked, reaching behind his back for a folded knife. “I’m sure we could sell Morax’s hair for quite a fortune.” Another yank to the head and Zhongli blinked apathetically. “Aren’t you fighting back?”

“I have no interest in fighting mortals.” Zhongli shrugged. “My hair is my hair. Three years to grow them back is like the blink of an eye to me.”

The man’s eyes flickered with fury at the stranger, and he brought that dagger into his coal hair, severing the strands roughly. Zhongli’s eyes stayed unmoving, hostile, hateful, in a way. The lump of hair fell into the snow unceremoniously, and one of the others scurried to grab it.

“Yo,”

Zhongli’s eyes flickered from the thief to the source of the familiar voice. Relief washed over him at the sight of ginger hair and ocean blue eyes, that slender figure hugged in his winter attire that Zhongli rarely saw him in. A primal sense of grounding gripped him, almost like the essence of his home, which he had eternally bound to Childe’s smiling face. Unorthodox, he knew, but he was like an oasis of familiarity that the weather hadn’t manage to freeze over yet.

“Where is your Snezhnayan upbringing, picking on the Tsaritsa’s guests?” Ajax sighed, walking leisurely towards Zhongli. “I have eyes and ears where my hands can’t reach, and right now, mr. Zhongli is under my supervision.” His hand found its familiar spot on the God’s waist, his eyes scanning for any traces of harm’s way on him. His hand reached the back of his head before his eyes did, and they narrowed dangerously. “Ah, is that what you were going for? It’s a shame.” Zhongli felt uncertainty creep up his spine at the shift in the Harbinger’s tone, still wishing for no harm towards the mortals.

“Ajax,”

“It’s a shame,” Childe continued, cracking his neck to the left, then to the right with a relieved smile. “Because I happened to love his hair, and I don’t take kindly to things being taken away from me.”

“Ajax, let’s go home.” Zhongli grabbed his wrist, the whole group of thieves frozen in fear at the sight of the Fatui.

“No, no. We can’t do that. When someone kisses you, they expect a kiss back, no?” Ajax stepped forward and stretched his arm out, his hydro dagger appearing into his hand. “You might not want to shift the tides here, mr. Zhongli, but these rascals are my own.”

“Run!” The leader of the thieves screamed, but they didn’t stand a chance. Childe threw the dagger first, hitting the middle one between his shoulder blades. Blood gushed out in waves and Ajax laughed joyfully, running to the gurgling body to pull his weapon out, then join it into a larger pole-arm. A jump and a couple of spins and heads went flying, legs were severed, and the snow was painted an abysmal red. Childe leaned his head back, feeling the wind swipe his hair back and freeze his smile in place. The weapons vaporised in his hands, and he slowly lowered his gaze to Zhongli, stood meekly by the scene of the slaughter. Childe wrestled the hair out of the dead man’s grip, for the sake of retreating the luxurious clip that his lover favoured since he first met him. “Measly thieves. Someone has to be the sacrificial lamb, the subject to teach the others a lesson,”

Zhongli’s eyes eased shut when Ajax closed in on his space, leaning close to his face and pushing the small accessory into his gloved hand. “I love you.” Ajax whispered, pressing a gentle kiss into the corner of Zhongli’s brow. “And I intend to keep you safe here.”

“They wouldn’t kill me, Ajax.” Zhongli sighed deeply, leaning into Childe’s neck. “They wouldn’t be able to.”

“No one will dare to try anymore.” The Harbinger’s hand nestled to the small of the ex archon’s back, pulling him close to his body. He started to caress the back of his head with his free hand, trying to feel the roughly cut strands through the fabric of his gloves. “I’m sorry they touched you.”

“You’re more sad about that than I am.” Zhongli smiled gently and pulled the Harbinger’s head down to press their foreheads together. “It will grow back in no time.”

“I’m a mortal like they are.” Ajax whispered sadly, his eyes easing shut. Zhongli pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips in response, trying to ease the pain in his lover’s voice.

“And I’m eroding, so let’s try to outlive each other.” Zhongli chuckled, making Childe squeeze him close, a neediness evident in his touch. “I want to live like mortals do, with you, Ajax. That’s why I’m here.”

“Please, don’t say such things to me.” The Harbinger breathed deeply, trying to choke down a few stray tears. “I promise I will make your stay worthwhile.”

“I know.” Zhongli kissed his jaw quickly. “You can start by taking me somewhere, I’m freezing.”

“Right.” Childe laughed, reaching out to grasp the ex archon’s hand and pull him away from the bloodied grounds. “I’m taking you for lunch. I will tell some underlings to clean up the mess.”

“You could had been more clean about it.”

#zhongchi #tartali #genshin impact #tartaglia x zhongli #childe x zhongli #zhongli #childe #childe genshin impact #zhongli genshin impact #chili

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dailyadventureprompts · 3 years

Note

Hello! I love your blog! The adventures you post are so interesting and are great to read, also my apologies if I messed it up and your not taking submissions any longer! Do you have any thoughts for a mountainous lair for one of the last red dragons on the continent? My players are going there soon and I'd love to here what you think of for this

Villain: Zindiiex, the Mournful Wyrm .

Who are you to speak to a dragon of MONSTERS? You who have hunted my brood through the centuries, scourging them from the sky and butchering them where they fell. Oh yes, a dragon may kill when she is hungry or to assert her territory, but you humans would see our kind extinct simply to feel “safe” in your squalid little burrows.

I will hear what you have to say, Vermin, but let neither of us pretend that we are not beasts, pretending at parlay

Setup: Once known as the “Skybleeder” for the way her rampages would turn the horizon into a haze of smoke and refracted fire, the old wyrm Zindiiex now hides from the world, scarred by the long centuries of conflict and the death of her many kin.

Cursed with a predator’s instinct to predate and tyrannize, but a mortal spirit capable of fearing pain and loss, this dragon’s millennia spanning existence has been a constant cycle of destruction and suffering, both wrought by her own talons and visited upon her by her victims’ retribution. Having lost both mates and children, and suffered grievous wounds at the hands of attempted dragonslayers, Zindiiex is now a broken beast; lairing in an isolated mountain fortress, nursing her various physical and emotional traumas and spending decades in fitful, tearful slumber.

Adventure Hooks:

This prompt is an unplanned sequel to “The Ashen Bastion”, the historic fortress that the Mournful Wyrum took as her hideaway. Check it out if you’d like some details on the backdrop of this encounter, or reasons your party might decide to seek her out on their own.

Dragons are wellsprings of elemental power, which serves as the source behind their potent breath weapons, as well as their drive to collect, horde, and devour sources of magic. Like most ancient dragons, Zindiiex had cultivated this wellspring into a blazing bonifre, becoming an embodied calamity of titanic destructive potential. In her convalescence however, the Skybleeder’s power has begun to “ Bleed out”, waking the stone that surrounds her into a volcanic state, infusing it with volatile magics even as the dragon herself begins to wither. The sountains stir as Zindiiex sleeps more and more, and are in danger of erupting if the dragon is not dealt with before too long.

This primordial runoff is also beginning to seed the surrounding landscape with wonderous magic, giving rise to nescient elementals and other oddities. Veins of Adamantine have been found in the foothills surrounding her lair were their were none before, and various objects around the ruins have begun to take on spontaneous enchantments. Though the dragon keeps very little in the way of a horde, there are riches to be found should one be brave enough.

A survivor to the very end, the Mournful Wyrm clashed with many of the last age’s great heroes, and may be able to share a tidbit or two about the goings on of the last age that have since been forgotten by all others.

Art 1

Art 2

#Anonymous #villain #monster hunt #dungeon #ruins #dragon #D&D #D&D adventure #Homebrew Adventure #Adventure #DnD #mid level #high level #treasure hunt #mine #elemental: fire

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

Text

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 8.3; Lantern Rite Part 2

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day ;)

........

--Can feel your emotions...emotions cannot be permanently ignored...fall on deaf ears...early grave... Xiao scoffed and downed the rest of his tea before forcefully setting the cup back down onto the table. "You think admitting my alleged feelings for a mortal human would solve the problem?"

"She's done her part, now it is your turn," Zhongli straightened. "If you fail to do so, I fear she will perish from your karmic debt in no time at all. If what you say is true, it's a miracle she's still alive. Your admittance would seal the bond, as it would eliminate the side effects altogether."

Xiao's head whipped in the direction of the playing of an instrument note, but was only greeted with the joyful screams of children running around nearby. "Tch. How annoying," he played his mishearing off and returned to his normal sitting position. A few beats of silence passed before he spoke again. "I would only be prolonging her untimely demise. If we stay together, if she stays by my side, my sins will affect her with or without the bond."

"That is correct."

The archon was never one to sugarcoat things. "It would be selfish of me to admit to those emotions, selfish to indulge in them--she would die at my hand."

"Yes."

"Then why should I seal the bond, if us getting closer seals her fate?" The yaksha's voice nearly cracked, but he hid it well with his piercing gaze as he questioned his master. "Why?"

"How long do you plan on protecting Liyue?"

The random question made the yaksha falter. "For as long as our contract endures." What a silly question--it wasn't even for debate. It was his duty to protect Liyue, to absolve his sins and pay thanks to the archon that redeemed him. Why would Zhongli bring it up now?

"How much longer can you protect those who reside in Liyue? How long until the cracks begin to form within you, too?"

'Just as my fallen friends...' Xiao searched his master's eyes for a moment before parting his lips. "I--"

"I do not know the end of your story, Xiao, but I brought your unruly fate upon you. When the time comes for you to face the same darkness that's consumed you, you cannot face it alone."

.........................

Zhongli watched the three of you push your way through the crowd to greet him, his eyes narrowing at you in particular. "I see you have found your other teammates," he nodded approvingly.

"Yeah." You hadn't stopped scanning the crowd, and didn't so much as look his way despite being prodded by Aether.

"Something's wrong with her," the boy warned Zhongli. "She's not--"

"Do not concern yourself, traveler. She will be just fine."

"Huh?" Paimon grumbled. "What do you mean by that? Have you no concern for her?"

"We've convened earlier today. I will inform you, but first..." His eyes slid back to you, and he raised his voice to catch your attention. "You wish to see him?"

"Hm? U-um, yes..." His piercing gaze saw right through you, and it was an uncomfortable feeling. "What?"

"I'd advise you to leave the harbor," he nodded to the mountainside that was on the other side of the city gates. You nodded a quick thanks before running away at full speed.

I'm here, Xiao. But the yaksha didn't need to hear your impolite prayers to know that you were, when he could hear the distinct conversations of the people you ran past even though he was literal miles away from the harbor.

..............

You felt him before you saw him. Sitting on the rocky hill that overlooked the guarded entrance of Liyue Harbor, you peered over your shoulder to find the one person you had longed to see all day. The yaksha stopped in his tracks when you met his eyes.

"What...are you doing here?" It was like he was uncertain if he was hallucinating, eyes narrowing cynically as you stood to greet him. It was clear that he was weary from his day-long battle, but any pure exhaustion was hidden behind his tough façade.

"Childe brought me back for the Lantern Rite," you caught him snarling when you said the harbinger's name. "I--"

Your vision was suddenly obscured by his face once he appeared before you at the speed of light. His hand gingerly traced your cheek, a rare gentleness, a fondness seeping through his cynical eyes. You hadn't realized how much you had been craving his touch; your hand kept him from removing his from your cheek. How long had it been? Two weeks? It had to have been three by now, but it felt like an eternity from how much you had to deal with Childe or watch people die.

Real, Xiao's lips twitched into an unnoticeable smile, but the light in his eyes was bright as day. The two of you stood with foreheads pressed together for who knows how long until the yaksha was the one to pull away and regain his neutral composure. His eyes floated to that of the dark ocean before landing on the small lantern that sat next to your viewing rock.

"They'll be releasing them soon," you say, noticing his gaze. "I meant to make two, but it turns out its REALLY hard to make them..."

"Mm." He acknowledged you before sitting on the left side of the rock, silently prompting you to join him.

You did. "H-hey, is that blood?" You finally noticed the smear on his right cheek, worry entering your voice. "Are you okay? Here, let me see--"

"It's not mine." Xiao leaned away from your hand and wiped the smudge away himself.

Back to pushing me away, you faltered back, wavering eyes refocusing their attention on the black horizon to distract yourself from the hurt that panged in your chest. You sat on your hands as if to close yourself off from him--to restrain yourself from invading his personal space.

I did it again. Xiao inwardly cursed himself out for causing the sad look in your eyes. It's not like he meant to. He's too used to shutting people out for their safety; he's too accustomed to being alone. Xiao watched you out of the corner of his eye before finally gathering the courage to speak. She needs to know.

"I need you to understand," he started, sending you a brief glance before facing the ocean again. "Yakshas accumulate karma from the eons of slaughter we're tasked with. It eats away at our souls, corrupts us, or drives us mad. We become the monsters we're meant to destroy. Outsiders, companions, anyone who gets too close, will share and suffer that karma. It is why I order you and Aether to leave, and it is why I keep everyone at a distance."

You watched him continue to carefully sort his thoughts out. He's never talked so much without your prompting.

"None of us have had, nor will have, a happy ending. This is our fate. And it will be your fate too, if you continue to stay at my side. The karma I've accumulated will only grow in future years, and you won't be a stranger to it."

Your shoulders dropped. Is he...Is he going to leave me completely? Is he going to push me away for good?

Xiao heard your worries, and he briefly met your eyes again. "Could you still love a yaksha, while knowing this information? While knowing your fate will be sealed, and you won't find peace?"

"Of course."

"This isn't a light decision," Xiao admonished and rotated his body slightly to face you. "You cannot--" Do humans not understand danger?

"Xiao." The determination in your eyes made his next words stick to his throat. "I've already thought about it long and hard. I've seen your past. I've felt some of your pain. Even if this bond thing doesn't 'seal'--whatever that means--even if I am stuck with hearing those awful voices for the rest of my life, I will never be able to stop my feelings for you. Even if you don't return my feelings. I've come to accept all of it."

Could Xiao bring himself to admit his feelings if there was a high chance that fate would set its cruel sights on you? You could say all this now, but you've only felt the karma for a month. What happens in a year from now? A decade? A century? Your life wouldn't be as short as a humans because of his blood...Could he find it in him to confess if you were driven mad and he, ridden with guilt from causing your downfall? Sealing the bond wouldn't guarantee that the voices would leave you, and it definitely wouldn't make you immune to his karma. Xiao had thought he had decided on confessing, but now that he saw that raw, naïve determination in your gaze, maybe it was better that he kept it to himself for your safety--

"Do you trust me, Xiao?" His attention snapped back to you. "You felt my love for you in Zapolyarny Palace, didn't you? If you did, then you know my feelings are genuine..."

That's right...your feelings were so warm back then, and the way you had hugged him close...He felt his own version when he had heard your moonsong. 'How long can you continue protecting Liyue? When the time comes for you to face the same darkness that's consumed you, you cannot face it alone. Zhongli was righ--Archons, forget it. You had never lied to him, and he doubted you'd ever plan on doing so in the future. You were still just as stubborn as all those years ago on your deathbed of bloody soil; that aspect of you never changed. And if you were this stubborn, it wouldn't make sense for him to label your decision as a half-hearted, half-thought out answer.

Xiao examined you carefully for a silent minute, not quite listening to the words that flew out of your mouth. He didn't know how much longer he could stand tall against the swarms of darkness that swirled in his heart; he liked to think he could do so for another millennia, but that could change with one wrong move, one wrong thought, or one misplacement in willpower. But maybe as Zhongli said, he could find a new purpose, a new ray of light that could help him continue his duty if the day for evil to overwhelm him ever comes.

The yaksha couldn't quite find a place in the mortal realm, but he was curious on how it worked, how the humans were, what kind of customs they created. His karma made it impossible to quell that curiosity, and equally as dangerous for mortals. But he met you, that four year old girl that didn't do anything but provoke his curiosity and longing for kinship further. And then he really got to know you, all those months ago--what made you tick much like the other humans, the way you smiled, how you had the same sense of humor as him, the aggressive and the kind sides of your personality that clashed together to form this perfect, messy example of how humans worked.

Maybe he found out where to start when it came to you mortals, and that starting line was with you. You shone at the end of the tunnel, a beacon for safety and dare he call a symbol of peace that he could come home to. Xiao's eyes never left you as you continued to ramble on.

"--Then, I suppose, I could love you." The yaksha muttered the words like they tasted sour, but his eyes were soft when they landed on you.

"I--You--Huh?" You had thought he was trying to pull away from you for good, but this? He was confessing? Your oblivious mind wouldn't have guessed this would happen...So this is what Zhongli was inferring earlier!

"What?" Xiao narrowed his eyes and looked away as if he were embarrassed. "It's not that significant," he pouted. "Humans are flustered too easily by the smallest matters." Despite his crimson cheeks and beet-red ears, he found it difficult to fight back a smile when he saw the ridiculous look on your face.

"You..." Faint lights shone down on your little moment, and you glanced up to find that the lanterns were being released. "Wow, look!" You rose to your feet and stared at the distant lanterns before remembering that you had one of your own. Your gaze dropped to it, and an idea struck you. "Xiao...would you like to do this one together?" You picked it up and lit it with the match you had in your pocket.

"I still don't understand why humans discard their trash into the ocean," he muttered before standing as well. He watched the small flame burn brighter as it sat in your hands. "What's the point?"

"The lanterns represent our wishes and thanks to the adepti," you explained and gestured for him to take hold of the other side of the lantern. He reluctantly did so, but curiosity overcame him and he patiently listened to you with a slight childlike wonder in his eyes. "As for why we chose lanterns, I think it's just because they're pretty."

"Hmph."

"Do you have any wishes for the archons? We're supposed to write them on the lantern," you pulled a small pen out from your back pocket and uncapped it, offering the other end to him.

"Adepti don't go by your mortal ideals," he scoffed.

His clear distaste for your question drew a laugh from your lips. "I figured there was no harm in asking again! Okay. Even if you don't have a wish, let's release it, yeah? One, two, three..." The two of you gently pushed the lantern into the air, where it slowly made its journey to join the rest of its companions that now floated all around you.

"You didn't write your wish," he commented, his brows furrowing in confusion. How dare you ask him to write a wish, yet you did no such thing. The hypocrisy of humans!

"Why would I need to if it already came true?" You gave him a smirk before facing the sky. "They're so pretty," you marveled, nearly making yourself dizzy from staring straight up. "Don't you think so?"

"Mm." He agreed, but he was only looking at you. It took you a few minutes before you could gather the courage to return his gaze, feeling his stare while you watched the lanterns sparkle like the stars. Well, it was also when your neck got tired.

You returned your eyes to the yaksha only to find him staring hard at you with an unreadable expression. "W-what?"

"You're serious about me, even if it ends up killing you?" He still couldn't understand why...Wouldn't self-preservation be what everyone chooses when put in a perilous situation? Is this human stupidity, or is there some type of logic behind your trust that he failed to grasp?

You blinked, facing him fully. "One hundred percent." I don't need to think twice about my answer, but he's still concerned about me? "Xiao, do you trust me?"

He didn't answer and instead approached you after a few beats of silence until you almost breathed the same air. He was visibly struggling with something, but as for what, you had no idea. He allowed himself to slide a hand through your hair and play with the strands before it settled against the nape of your neck. He pulled you closer until his lips grazed across your eyelids. He ignored the shocked gasp that left your parted lips and let his brush across your other eyelid before they settled against the spot between your brows.

He then pulled away, his head resting against your forehead, and for a second you wondered if any of that was real until you managed to snap out of your daze. "D-did you just...? Xiao...?"

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #xiao genshin impact #xiao fanfiction #valentines day #genshin impact xiao

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rngknsk · 3 years

Text

The Aftermath

Chapter 1: Consciousness

Sanemi Shinazugawa/Reader (F)

You find yourself alive at the Butterfly Estate beside your closest friend after the final battle against Muzan Kibutsuji. You both are hurting over the loss of your comrades, so you must find a way to comfort each other.

**THIS SHORT STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE END OF THE DEMON SLAYER MANGA. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED THE MANGA.**

Tags/warnings: Shared trauma, angst, survivors guilt, slight tw, comfort, slight fluff, reader is a Hashira

You can also read here on Ao3. Enjoy!

It’s not your time yet, young one, you still have a long journey ahead of you.

Be sure to live a life that will inspire others every day, please know that I will always love you.

We will always be here, watching you, waiting for you. We know you will do great, we are so proud of you, Y/N. Live on.

✾✾

Rain pattering gently against the window stirred you from your dreams. You blinked a few times as you peeled your eyelids apart, feeling the discomfort of the built-up eye-crusts that had grown as you slept for the past few days, to which you didn’t realize just yet. Your mouth felt dry as you slowly smacked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Your tongue felt swollen. Staring up at the dimly lit, wooden ceiling of the building that protected you from the rain outside, you took a few moments to try to recall where exactly you were. You remained in a numb physical state, or so it felt; you just needed to fully wake up. When you did, all of the memories came flooding back.

You tried to pull yourself upright in the bed you found yourself on, but immediately froze as the pain shocked and ran through every nerve in your body. You shut your eye and let out a sharp inhale through your gritted teeth that interrupted the silence of the room, trying to ease the pain. It was then that you realized your left eye was covered. Slowly, you brought your bandaged hand up to your face, pressing your scarred fingertips to your cheek. Your head had been wrapped several times with a bandage that ran at a slight angle across your face and over your eye.

It was a long, final battle between the demon slayer corps and the demons. The war that was fought for centuries, even millennia, had finally been won, and because you remembered your victory, you were able to slump peacefully back into the bed you laid upon. You laid for a few long moments, the ringing in your ears starting to fade away, allowing you to finally relish in the serene sounds of the rain against the roof.

“You’re finally awake,” came a familiar voice to your left. You hesitated for a moment, tears welling up in your uncovered eye, realizing who the voice belonged to.

You slowly turned your head towards the voice before gasping out his name, “Shinazugawa-san?”

He met your alarmed gaze with a kind smile that made your heart feel warm and fuzzy, and it just might have been enough to cure the aches among the rest of your worn-out body. You wanted to tear the blanket right off of your figure and throw yourself upon him in a triumphant embrace, you wanted to bury your face into his neck and cry, but neither of you were in any physical condition for that.

Your fellow Hashira lay sitting up in his bed, covered in bandages from head to torso, arms to shoulders. He was certainly in a rougher state than you, but for good reason. Sanemi Shinazugawa risked his life for the sake of humanity against the demons, and the most feared of all, Muzan Kibutsuji. He was ruthless in every battle he’s fought, but until he butted heads with Kibutsuji, you’d never seen him so merciless. At the end of the fight, you were sure he’d never pull through. Before you passed out from exhaustion and blood loss, you caught a glimpse of his bloodied figure sprawled across the ground. The last thing you saw was Kibutsuji crumbling away, and with that sight you allowed yourself to finally drift off, to that you imagined would be death.

But it wasn't.

Instead, you woke up next to the man whom you’ve come a long way to care so much about. He was such a tough nut to crack, but you and Sanemi had become so close, and you were sure that you’d meet him in the afterlife along with many others, but rather, you woke up just a few feet away from him at the Butterfly Estate. With that you were beyond thankful at another chance. This time you were sure that you’d tell him how you’d truly feel. Now, finally, you’ll be able to express to Sanemi how important he is to you without any worry of an unexpected end, unlike the last time you opened your heart to someone.

“I’m surprised, you slept longer than I,” he continued. “I was thinking for sure that I’d never wake up, and instead I woke up to you still napping.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment. You figured he was trying to make a lighthearted joke, so you thought you’d at least react somehow. “I’m sorry, I thought I wouldn’t make it either.”

“You’re a tough girl, I knew you’d be just fine, unlike the others,” he slightly turned his gaze to the floor, a solemn expression curtaining his face.

Before you could ask, three Kakushi rushed into the room that you and Sanemi were resting in, audible gasps coming from behind their masks.

“S-She’s awake!” one cried as he ran out of the room. The other two hurried to your side to take your vitals.

“Please sit back L/N-sama, don’t strain yourself!”

“Yes, your wounds are still fresh and healing, don’t try to move until the nurses arrive!”

✾✾

Hours later, your bandages were rewrapped after you enjoyed a nice bath with the help of the Kakushi. They had given you an extraordinary painkilling formula that had been invented by Shinobu Kocho, the Insect Hashira and outstanding pharmaceutical expert, prior to her death. It was almost as if she created the formula in preparation of Kibutsuji’s attack. You had learned of the deaths of many, including the other remaining Hashira, with the exception of Sanemi and Giyuu Tomioka. You prayed to them as you sat in the bath after the Kakushi gave you some time to soak alone. You cried, for they weren’t as lucky as you to be able to know a world without demons, to know a world in which you could live free. However, each and every life that was lost during the battle against Muzan Kibutsuji belonged to those who fought valiantly and believed in the freedom that you were so fortunate to experience.

It was evening now, and the rain had finally stopped. The colorful pastel clouds were moving out of sight, and the falling sun gleamed brilliantly between the damp leaves of the trees it tried to hide behind. The dew drops sparkled against the rays before they each slid off of the leaves at their own individual pace. You slowly walked yourself outdoors to the engawa, which is where you found Sanemi. He was sitting by himself, a single leg hanging off of the engawa edge while his other was propped up in front of him. You’d never seen him so quiet and peaceful looking, even with his back towards you. You didn’t want to startle him or disrupt his alone time, but you wanted to talk to him. You wanted to know what he was thinking; what was going through that mind of his?

“Shinazugawa-san,” your voice gently hit the breeze, carrying your greeting to his ears. His head slightly perked up, but his gaze remained forward. He didn’t respond, but rather patted the wood floor beside him. After a moment of noticing his gesture, you stepped forward to slowly lower yourself next to him, gritting your teeth to suppress any signs of pain from your injuries. Once seated beside your friend, you glanced out of the side of your eye to see a single tear rolling down his cheek. The sight punctured your very soul. After all these years, training and fighting beside this battle-hardened man, you never thought you’d see him cry. Of course, he lost his younger brother during the battle, so it seemed he was taking this time to grieve; you were just surprised that he allowed you so close to be able to see him in such a state.

“Genya would have liked this view, don’t you think?” Sanemi broke the silence, fighting away the cracking of his voice. “When we were kids, we would always watch the sun set in the evening. It was one of the things that really helped us forget how shitty the world was for us back in those days. Seeing his bright, wide eyes and that happy expression was what pushed me to continue forward every time. But now…” he finally turned away, wiping his remaining tears with his sleeves. “I just wish he could be here to see it, to see the sun set in a world where we don’t have to fight for our lives anymore.”

You didn’t know how to respond. It seemed as if the best option would be to let him talk and express how he was feeling. It was, after all, better than him bottling things up, similar to what he’s done for his entire life. Genya wasn’t the only person that Sanemi has lost. You couldn’t forget what he had told you about, what had happened to his family, what he had to do to protect Genya way back then. He’s lost family, friends, others… And you did too, but this wasn’t about you. Right now, you had to comfort someone who was very dear to you.

“I wish he was here too,” you spoke, leaning yourself towards him to rest a hand upon his shoulder. You hoped your gesture would help ease him. “I wish… everyone was here. Our families, our friends,” you lowered your head for a moment in respect, saying a silent prayer for those who had been lost. When you looked back up you found that he had turned to your direction, and you locked eyes with him. His expression was absolutely pitiful. You could feel him tense up when you began to involuntarily squeeze his shoulder faintly. “But we must live on. Live on for them, or else their sacrifices would not be worth anything. Please, Shinazugawa-san, know this,” you rested your other hand upon his, which was laying atop his lap. “Every person that you have ever loved is always watching over you, and they are so proud of you, including myself,” you smiled warmly as you concluded your words of reassurance.

Trapped in each other’s watery eyes, there was a sure understanding between you both. You knew how he felt, and he knew that of you. Ever so gently, Sanemi leaned forward to rest his forehead upon yours. His hand reached up and rested behind your head, pressing you even closer to him. As you both sat there beneath the dimming purple skies, you quietly thanked whatever higher beings allowed you both to survive hell and finally find paradise. Stars began peeking through the pastel-colored atmosphere, and the air felt fresher than it ever had before. You both shared a smile.

“Thank you for everything, L/N-san.”

✾✾

#shinaguzawa sanemi #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi #shinazugawa #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #kny x reader #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #fanfic #angst #comfort #fluff

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feirceangel · 3 years

Text

Imagine | Awaken

Imagine being there when the Pillarmen wake up.

Word Count: 1072

Archeological digs have always interested you. Delving into the past to uncover secrets of humanity from long ago never fails to bring a smile to your lips.

You were the one to find the mysterious 'statues' beneath the colosseum in Rome. Fascinated by the perfection of the three forms displayed, you were quick to start sketching them.

Through your scientist friends, you heard that they found another so-called 'Pillar Man' in Mexico. The thing that really stunned you was that fact that he was still alive after being encased in stone for hundreds of years.

And it looks like you've found three more of the strange beings.

Your little secret didn't stay a secret for long, German soldiers and scientists raining on your parade, confiscating your find.

Graciously, they still let you observe and take notes, but treated you rather poorly. You keep to yourself, knowing that your input would only be ignored by the others.

At the moment, giant UV lights are shining on the Pillar Men, courtesy of the Germans. You're to the side, not truly paying attention as you finish your sketch of the area.

"Something's amiss, ja?!"

"W-what's with that hole?!"

You sigh. What are they going on about now?

"Keep calm! They're trapped under UV ray exposure and cannot move!" The commander orders loudly. "Analyze the cavity, but with the upmost caution."

Interest piqued, you glance at the soldiers approaching the wall where the beings rest. You're hidden behind a small outcropping of rocks, as an attempt to stay as far away from the others as possible.

"How did this cavity appear?"

You examine your sketches, not seeing a hole and look back at the hole in the forehead of one of the Pillar Men. Curious.

"There's not enough light to see inside."

The hair on the back of your neck rises, a bad feeling overwhelming you. Your heart starts to beat faster.

Maybe you should make a quick exit now, before it's too late.

"I-I can hear something..."

A sudden sound startles you. The man examining the hole has been impaled by some sort of... horn?

Horrified, you watch as the man dies right before your eyes.

"Impossible! The subject couldn't have awakened!"

Terrified, you can't look away from the horrific events taking place before you.

The horn spins and slashes through multiple soldiers, spraying blood over the lights. You scream in fright before biting your hand to mask the sound.

The middle Pillar Man breaks from his stone tomb with a loud rumble, striking a pose as he cracks his neck.

He's glorious, dressed in the bare minimum of purple fabric with various pieces of gold jewelry adorning him.

"I pondered the state of man's strength after two millennia of slumber..."

His voice is deep and stern.

"But dependence on such lacklustre luminance imply declination. The lucent tools of Teutons mayn't withhold the will of Wamuu!"

Fast as lightning, the large man runs through the crowd of soldiers, as they yell in terror.

"O-our hands are joined!"

You can't close your eyes, stuck watching the frightening display of pure power that radiates off of him.

With a thud, the being stabs his finger into a terrified soldier and starts to drain the men's life force.

Petrified, you let out a squeal of fear as they collapse to the ground, nothing but a pile of flesh.

A soft jingle sounds as the otherworldly man walks back to the wall, his clothing swishing. He turns around and raises his hands, "Wamuu! Awaken, my masters!"

More rumbling sounds as the other two break free from the stone.

These guys scream power and danger, more so than anyone you've ever encountered before. Plus, only one of them managed to kill over twenty soldiers without a weapon.

They haven't seen you yet, so hopefully you can sneak away or wait until they leave. You try to control your breathing as tears dribble down your cheeks.

Please leave, please leave, please leave, you chant in your mind.

"We know you're there, human," the first one speaks.

Your breath hitches and your body shudders. How do they know?! Maybe it's a trap?

Playing it safe, you stay put.

You close your eyes, wishing it all away to no avail. When you reopen your eyes, the man is directly before you.

Stammering, you try to back up but run into another man. Your heart is hammering away, blood rushing through you as you blindly try to run.

You make it one step before a powerful being grabs your hair in a vice grip.

This is it, I'm gonna die here.

They chuckle as they look down at your shaking form.

"Hello," the one with a head wrap says.

You can't speak, and even if you could, you wouldn't know how to respond.

The one with golden hair picks up your sketchbook, gazing at the drawings found there.

He shows the others and you wish the ground would swallow you up.

"I am Wamuu," he says, "These are Masters Kars and Esidisi."

You are paralyzed. Why haven't they killed you yet?

"We recognize you. You were the one to find us," Esidisi states in a slightly higher voice.

Kars looks upon you in amusement, "What is your name, little one?"

Should you answer?

Their intense gazes tell you that it wouldn't be wise to remain silent.

"Y-y/n," you stutter, scared stiff.

Kars releases your hair, observing as you fall to your knees in fear, "Don't worry, we won't hurt you."

"W-What?" You're confused.

Kars gently caresses your tear stained cheek, "We don't hurt our property."

It takes a second for his words to click.

"P-property?!" You hero away from his touch, wishing they'd just get it over with instead of toying with you. "Never!"

Bemused, Esidisi takes ahold of your shoulders, "Cute."

You try to wiggle out of his grip, but of course he's too strong.

"You'll make a great pet," Kars assures, a wicked glint in his red eyes. "Don't disobey us and everything will be fine."

Shaking your head, you struggle again, only to have Wamuu clench his hand around your wrist.

"Let's go see this new world," Kars says, leading the way out of the cave.

You try to resist, but the intense pain in your arm makes you rethink your tactics.

You'll just have to wait for the perfect opportunity to escape.

#reader insert #x reader #jjba x reader #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure #pillarmen #kars #whamuu #esidisi

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clouds-rambles · 3 years

Note

Just had a jimmy neutron brain blast-

Hear me out; modern au with xiao or childe but the reader is a videogame character (from genshin or some other game) that gets isekaid into xiao/childes world. Can be a head cannon or one shot, whatever you want to do! hope I'm not bothering you, have a nice night/day/evening!<3

Big brain moment!! Isekai is (in theory) one of my favourite genres I love the concept of just being stuck in an amazing new world. I blame that on my escapism lmao :)

Happy birthday Xiao! I might write something else for your today!

Hi 1k words of me rambling, hope it makes sense lmao

Pairing(s); Xiao x reader

Warnings;

Keep reading under the cut!

You were just having tea with Morax when the feeling of falling had suddenly came over you. You try and reach out to the god before he disappears from view.

You land loudly on your feet and curse louder at the brief shooting pain through your leg. You take in the scene around you and you’re confronted by strange technologies that you go to touch the kettle like device before you hear someone trying their best to keep quiet. You take a step back from the kettle and summon your polearm.

“I can hear you, come out no” you order tapping the claymore on the floor in anticipation

“[name]?” the man questions revealing himself from the shadows of the room

“Not many know me by name mortal. So, pray do tell, how do you?” you ask staring the man down readying your polearm.

Xiao, a university student and a dance major. He’s been playing Genshin Impact casually for about two months now usually in the evenings when he’s not running through dance routines on campus. Xiao is a secluded an so his father, Zhongli, wanted to set Xiao up as comfortable as possible, if an apartment by himself was what he needed that’s surely what Xiao would get.

“I think you’re actually [name], from Liyue” he states bluntly. You nod

“Get to the point” you order pushing your claymore closer to Xiao’s face

“You’re from a game I play” he states bluntly

“Sorry, what”

It’s been a few days since you had fallen into this reality and you’ve settled in nicely into Xiao’s schedule. You had been lucky that you landed right at the start of Xiao’s holiday. He has tried to tell you about the things of this world, you haven’t understood much and the thought of so much population kind of scares you.

You feel like if Liyue was to look like this in a thousand or so years would you really feel at home there as you do now? Would a Liyue like this city need a yaksha like you? Would they need someone to protect them? You have to wonder if this was the reason why Morax gave up his mortality and godhood, perhaps he already saw a future like this...

You look to Xiao who had decided to go to the studio today as he twists into the music he’s dancing to and smile a little. Maybe being cast out from Teyvat isn’t all bad, you haven’t taken and enjoyed the company of mortals since you felt similar confines of mortality thousands of years ago.

At the other side of the studio there’s a clanging of a door being kicked open

“And who was going to tell me that my bestie has had a girl over all week?” the short man asks interrupting Xiao’s dance sequence

“It’s not like that Venti, and you know it” Xiao sighs putting his hands on his hips and staring down the friend

“Another mortal?” you ask standing up and leaning into the newcomers space

“Shit Xiao you never told me they look like [name]” he looks to the other with a laugh. You blink a few times

“I am the [name] you speak of, under normal circumstances humans don’t see me” you tell the man your brows tightly knitted together

“They’re not joking” Xiao tells the shorter man “It’s a long story that I won’t be telling you” he adds turning away from the two of you and puts the song back at the beginning

“So you’re really the yaksha [name]?” the man asks, you raise a brow at him and channel the power of anemo to shove a burst of wind in the mans face

“You think I need to prove it to you?” you ask with a chuckle “What’s your name human?” you ask looking down at the shorter man

“I’m Venti” he grins shoving a hand for you to shake, you don’t “I do music but if it’s artistic I do it” he adds. You nod.

“You know I was saved by a guy kind of like you millennia ago” you confess with a smile at the memory

“When you were overcome with nightmares right? By Barbatos?” Venti asks and you frown

“It unnerves me how much you know, and how much you freely speak about it” you confess looking to Xiao who’s restarted his dance routine. Venti giggles your words before watching Xiao again

“What’s it like there? In Liyue?” Venti asks, you chuckle at him and raise your brow

“Don’t you play the game?” you ask, Venti nods

“It’s not the same though” he argues and you sigh

You tell Venti about all your favourite places, you talk about what the Harbour is like during the lantern festival and what it’s like sitting with Morax to drink tea and your meetups with Ganyu to drag her out of burying herself in work

“Do you miss it?” Venti asks, and you laugh again and pat his shoulder

“I’m not sure your mortal brain can comprehend what I miss” you respond and walk outside.

Venti’s question weighs on your brain. Did you truly miss it? Sure you miss Morax and Ganyu, but really? The adepti are a dying breed, being here is probably better than being forgotten by Liyue, this world will never ask of you.

“Doing alright?” you hear Xiao ask from behind you, you hum in response “If Venti said something I can always beat him into shape” he adds with a chuckle at his humour. You shake your head and smile to Xiao

“Do you wanna see something cool?” you ask stepping closer to Xiao who takes a moment and then nods approving of your request. You stand behind Xiao, take his hands and with the power of anemo you start flying in the air

“This is how I get around Liyue” you tell Xiao in a hushed tone, he feels your breath brush against his ear

“Wow” he breaths, Xiao’s cheeks heat up a little as you float over the university campus. You close your eyes and continue to feel the pressure of Xiao’s body and the lightness of the anemo beneath your feet

“How do you feel?” you ask Xiao with a grin

“Is it odd to say I feel at home in the air?” he asks breathing in the air around him. He feels you shake your head behind him

“Visions are a complicated thing, I wouldn’t be surprised if people of other realities could resonate” you answer, you hold Xiao in the air for a little longer holding his presence. You notice Xiao taking in the scenery almost breathless.

“Xiao! [name]! We going for dinner or not?” Venti yells up to the both of you. Xiao jumps a little since he was so zoned out just floating in the air

“Dinner?” you ask as you descend

“Mm, Venti breaks into my apartment if I don’t eat dinner with him at least once a week” Xiao grumbles as you lower him onto the ground. You nod

“Goldet, the boss of the Inn I used to stay at would come up with almond tofu” you reply with a smile “I never liked it much but a close friend said it reminded him of eating dreams, it was my way of keeping close to him” you confess with a soft smile

“Almond Tofu is my favourite” Xiao informs you walking over to Venti

“He never shuts up about the Almond Tofu” Venti jokes patting Xiao on his shoulder, Xiao glares at the former. You smile at them and their friendship.

Dinner was nice, Venti recommended something for you to eat and you more than liked it. After dinner Venti parts ways with you and Xiao takes the both of you back to the apartment.

The two of you lounge on the couch, the telly plays some ridiculous late night tv show as the both of you sit. You find yourself leaning your head on Xiao’s shoulder a yawn escaping you. You don’t notice Xiao smile at you and close his eyes to relax with you. You close your eyes another yawn escaping you.

It isn’t often you have to sleep considering your immortal adepti status but sometimes, especially when extremely comfortable and relaxed, you find yourself dozing off.

Your dreams, when not getting infected with darkness, are filled with hopes of this new world you’ve found yourself and the new mortal companion beside you.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #genshin xiao #xiao

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shurelyasreverie · 3 years

Note

Soulmate au for Varus,Rhaast and Aatrox and kayn who they meet realize that their soulmate could help them recover to who they were and help with their problems (for the soulmate aus you could come up with a plot) to become better people and they never murdered but be respectful to the reader and her personality because she has seen enough death and she is fed up with it and don't want to see it as she lives and she has a rich personality

Since the request is really plot heavy and due to new rules I just did one darkin (I picked Varus since I'm a certified Varus simp lmao). A different soulmate au from the trademark arm writing on this blog, I wanted to explore a soulmate concept that could maybe work with Runeterra lore more~

Varus x Reader: Humanity (Soulmate AU)

How does one warm the cold heart of a darkin? You weren’t sure how, but with the blessing of multiple lives from the spirits above, you were going to keep trying until you succeed.

Word Count: 1293

Warning: Mentions of violence and death

You could always tell where Varus was through your hearing. The sound of silence that told you everything had been slain. Soon you would see the actual bodies that confirmed your thoughts. Again, you continued walking through the lands of Runeterra, until you came across the man you had been searching for.

His back was to you, but his audible growl signalled he knew you were there. It had become a sixth sense of sorts for the two of you, to always know when you were in each other's presence. His bow was already in hand but he didn't turn to face you.

“I told you to leave me alone,” he seethed.

“And you should know by now that I can't even if I wanted to.”

In truth, your mortal life should have ended centuries, if not millennia, ago. But when you were sent to the spirit realm, you were turned away. Celestial beings from the realm beyond stated your duty was not over, even though at that time you were unaware you even had one. They brought you back to the material world, telling you that you must remember this one command.

“Only you can stop the corrupted archer.”

With no other rules to go on, you wandered the land. You caught wind of the ancient legend of the darkin and the Void war, stories that were only passed down by word of mouth and likely distorted by time. Yet that was the only lead you had, you travelled to Ionia after what was likely lifetimes to find the embodiment of the corrupted bow and arrow.

The first time you met him, he instantly slayed you, only giving you the time to catch a glimpse of his face before you were sent back to the spirit realm. Thankfully when you found him in your next lifetime, he was more patient, cautiously cooperating and demanding who you are. Varus likely knew a lot more about you than you did of him, but you knew enough. Enough to know just how important it was to stop him before he ruined all of Runeterra.

In truth, your methods were unorthodox. You were given the command to stop Varus, but how? No experience in fighting would compare to his thousands of years of violence and his sheer ruthlessness. It was only until one quiet night, he did not sleep. Instead, he sat with his eyes alternating between his bow and his glowing chest. His hand of corrupted darkin flesh was a fist over where his heart would be. His eyebrows were furrowed, his face had softened into one of sorrow. Then, you didn't see a darkin, you saw a man. A man conflicted with inner turmoil.

When Varus noticed you were also awake, his sadness was replaced with his typical anger and he scowled at you to leave if you weren't going to sleep. You obeyed, with a plan in mind.

You were going to stop him with his own humanity. Follow him to the edges of Runeterra, acting as the angel on his shoulder as he attempts to devastate the land.

“You are nothing but a hindrance,” he snapped as he picked up his pace, walking away from you. You simply walked in stride. “But I suppose that's your intention...”

“You didn't even protect me the last time I died,” you complained and Varus' scowl deepened at your mocking tone.

“It's not my problem if you get caught in the crossfire,” he replied. “How many times have you died that way?”

You looked away, chuckling sheepishly, stopping when a thought struck you. “It didn't take long for me to find you this time. I would've only died on the other side of that valley. Were you perhaps waiting for me?”

Varus stiffened, his grip on his bow tightening. “Don't test my patience more than you already do.”

“And just sit back as you destroy this land? Kill all I hold dear?” You argued, opting for the confrontation route. Varus blinked, seemingly surprised at your response but you could see his muscles going taut as he tried to restrain his fury.

“You're lucky I even allow you near me and you still push your luck.”

“I'm just curious,” you shrugged as you took a step closer to him. “I want to know how I'm getting away with this. Maybe you aren't the big, bad darkin you want me to believe.”

“You've seen with your own eyes the villages I've devastated,” he replied, a sadistic smirk playing on his lips.

“But is that what you want to truly do?” you asked. “It's been taking a toll on you, I can tell.”

“Do not question me and don't you dare feign worry,” Varus hissed, the smirk gone just as soon as it appeared. “I know your purpose, don't think you can fool me.”

“Then why do you put up with me? Why not try and disappear off the face of Runeterra where I can never find you?”

When you finished speaking, Varus was trembling. Not from fear, but from desperately restraining his anger. A predator cornered, wanting to reassert dominance and attack the supposed prey. Standing right in front of him, you maintained eye contact. His next words were quiet and low but confident. The quiet before the storm.

“I could just kill you right here and now.”

You responded with the same quiet strength, voice barely above a whisper.

“Do it then.”

Varus didn't need to be told twice. In a fit of rage he lunged forward, abandoning his infamous bow. An arm went around your back, holding you in place as a blood red arrow formed in his hand, the tip pointing straight at your heart and digging into the fabric of your clothes. Your face betrayed you for a second, clearly alarmed, the innate fear of death overwhelming you before you hardened your expression again. You narrows your eyes, challenging the darkin silently as he stared at your face. His grip on the arrow tightened, he pressed the arrow further, just for you to feel discomfort but you weren't harmed just yet.

Although you've infuriated Varus almost nonstop, as tempted as he was to kill you to just get rid of one nuisance in his life, a brief respite, there was the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that reminded him it wasn't going to work. This wasn't the first time you challenged him to prove his hatred of you, and he remembered the first time he took the bait, driving an arrow into your heart. He hated the silence that ensued afterwards. He hated the sudden pain in his chest when you fell.

He hated how he sobbed over your limp body.

You were confident. Scarily so. Perhaps it was because you noticed how he hesitated before threatening you with empty words. So vulnerable in his arms yet your eyes held a daunting fire that seemed to slowly warm his cold, aching soul. His one weakness that he couldn't get rid of, he simultaneously wanted you to stay and disappear. His face scrunched for a moment as he growled to himself, pulling you back up to your feet.

“You may accompany me,” he said gruffly, walking away.

You blinked, stunned for a moment before hurriedly catching up with him, a grin growing on your face. “What's this, are we finally getting along?”

Varus didn't reply, only sending a wary look your way. It was soft yet concerned. For you, for him or for the future, you didn't know. All you knew was that it was a look that not a darkin would hold, but a human.

#fanfiction #imagine #oneshot #lol #masterlist #league of legends imagine #lol imagine #league of legends x reader #lol x reader #varus #varus league of legends #varus x reader #x reader #self insert #shurelyasreverie

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pan-fangirl-345 · 3 years

Text

In Every Universe, Forever and Always

Summary: You and Hinata have a very long history together. Across worlds, universes, and timelines, love always finds a way.

Or: A reincarnation/ soulmate AU with Hinata Shouyo and different times you have met and fallen in love.

A/N: I have no idea where the idea for this came from, but I'm now down to only five drafts and WIP, so stay tuned my lovelies!

TW: Murder, blood, bullying, fighting, violence, one (1) implied question about rape (none occurs), swearing, and no proofreading. If I missed anything, let me know!

The first time you had met Hinata Shouyo, neither of you had had names. You had been drifting presences, with no corporeal forms. It was hard to explain how it felt, what it was like. It was being everywhere, but belonging nowhere. It was being able to sense everything, but not touch it. Like someone breathing down the back of your neck but no one standing behind you.

He was a bright light, something that forced away the darkness. He had drifted from galaxy to galaxy, from blank space to blank space, spreading his light, even if some lasted longer than others.

Later, he told you that he wasn't sure what he was searching for, or if he had been searching for anything, but he had secretly hoped that he was searching for you.

He had been alone for his entire existence, but as he drifted, he found you.

You were a softer light than his, not as bright, and not nearly as warm, but you were there, and after such a long time of being alone, it was a great relief to know that he wasn't alone anymore.

He had slowly fallen in love with you, even if there hadn't been a term for it at the time, and you had fallen for him too.

But all too suddenly, there was another being, but it was something much darker than you and Hinata, it swallowed light and destroyed warmth. It was malevolent brutality compared to the kind gentleness that you and Hinata radiated.

You and Hinata had fled from the new being, trying to rekindle the lights that the being had extinguished, but it was no use.

Eventually, it caught up with you.

Instead of surrendering peacefully, you and Hinata fought together, trying to keep it at bay, but your light wasn't as strong as Hinata's, and you fell to the being before Hinata could reach you.

Overcome by grief at your loss, Hinata used everything he had in him to destroy the being, casting his light as far in every direction as possible, using every emotion in his arsenal.

Neither of you remembered whether you had defeated the being or not.

The next time you both remember having met, you were gods.

Hinata was once again a bright light, the humans worshipped him as the sun god, and he was indeed worthy of the title.

You, on the other hand, were the goddess of violent deaths. Humans feared your wrath, and the other gods isolated you because of the humans fear. You were the patron goddess of assassins, murderers, thieves, and sometimes considered the goddess of revenge as well.

Feared in the human realms and despised among the other heavenly beings, you fled into the sky.

You saw the galaxies the humans were ignorant to, you turned away from the worlds with intelligent life for fear of being called upon, and you slowly realized that you could create, as well as destroy.

Every time you accidentally ended the life of a star, you created something else. Sometimes it was a hole that sucked in everything, and even you had no idea where it ended, but sometimes other worlds were born, other galaxies were made.

Hinata, sick and tired of the other heavenly beings that flocked to him, ran from the heavenly realms, stumbling upon you.

You had tried to flee from him, worried how he would react to you, but instead he asked you to stay.

"But why?" you had asked, tucking yourself away behind a small star, ready to flee if he attempted to harm you.

"I remember you," he had said, ignoring your question. "The pretty little goddess that so many feared."

You winced at the reminder of your past, moving to hurry away, but Hinata had simply wrapped a hand around your wrist.

"Please stay," he begged.

"But . . . I might hurt you," you had whimpered.

"Nonsense," Hinata had said, so confidently that you had almost believed him. "Those aren't your abilities."

You had been so confused that you had stayed while Hinata explained that you weren't the one that caused the deaths, you were the one that went to the deathbed of the victim to ease them into death.

Hinata was the first person to see you as the one that ended the suffering, not the one that caused it.

Hinata had stayed with you for millennia, earning your trust, and falling for you yet again.

Somehow, along the way, you had fallen in love with him too.

"Come back with me," he begged, arms around your waist as you both laid among the stars.

"I can't," you told him. "I'm not welcome there. I'm feared by the humans, and the others are disgusted by what I am."

"You're beautiful, and you relieve the pain of those that are suffering. Why would they be disgusted by you?"

"Because no one else sees me the way you do, my love," you had said, stroking his face lightly. "They see me as some repulsive, but necessary, nuisance. They keep me around because someone needs to do the job, but they don't want to be the ones to do it."

"Come back with me so we can prove them wrong," Hinata pleaded. "I'm the king of the heavens, I can make you my queen! Then they would have to respect you!"

"I envy your faith in them, my king," you murmured, giving him a small smile. "But sometimes I think you are blind to the darkness in people."

"And you cannot seem to see the light in others," Hinata had countered.

In the end, you had returned to the heavenly realms with him, only to be met with the scorn and repulsion that you had been expecting.

Some accused you of manipulating him, others said that Hinata stayed with you because he was scared of you, of what you might do.

After only a year, you couldn't take it anymore.

You slipped away from the bed you and Hinata had been sharing.

You had drawn the words 'Forever and always' on his chest, right above his heart, kissing it, before you fled.

You would remember later that the other gods had been plotting against you since your return.

One lower level D-list goddess had gone around slaughtering your fellow heavenly beings, planting evidence that you had done it.

A guard had 'caught you fleeing the scene in guilt', and forced you to your knees in front of the mastermind behind it all.

You and Hinata had, over the years you had spent together, remembered your previous life, and had reminisced over it in your time among the stars.

No one had anticipated Hinata fighting so hard for you.

He raged against his former bootlickers, defending you against everything.

One of the war gods became irritated with his staunch protection of you.

In an attempt to end it, the god had attempted to kill you with a throwing knife.

Hinata had other plans, and had jumped in front of the blade, which sank into his chest, right where you had traced the words earlier before you had attempted to flee to your former sanctuary.

Your screams had echoed through the gold and marble hallways of the heavenly realms as Hinata hit the floor in a spray of blood.

Everyone else was so in shock that you had been able to wrench free of the guards and get to him.

"Hina, my love, stay with me," you had pleaded, cradling Hinata's body against your own. "Please, stay with me. I love you, please."

"Forever and always," Hinata had gasped, touching his wound softly. "Promise me."

"I promise," you had murmured, smoothing his hair away from his face.

In the background, the other gods were fighting amongst themselves, arguing over who had started it, whether it was justified, and it felt as though you and Hinata were in your own little bubble.

"We'll meet again," Hinata had promised, wincing in pain.

Healing wasn't your specialty, you had never had anyone to teach you, and you hated yourself now more than ever as Hinata bled out in your arms.

"I know we will," you replied, kissing his forehead. "Nothing will keep me away."

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured, touching your cheek lightly, softly, despite the blood on his fingers. "I told you, you relieve the pain, you don't cause it."

"Hina, Hina, stay with me, please, you can't leave me here," you pleaded. "Hina!"

Tears streamed down your face as Hinata faded into a soft, warm, golden light that settled over you for a moment before disappearing.

You heard something inside your chest crack, and you were pretty sure, later, that it was the sound of your heart breaking open and bleeding that echoed in your ears.

Your screaming drew the attention of the other gods, and soon they had turned on you, despite the obviously genuine grief you were experiencing.

Someone reached out to touch you, but they stopped when the palace around them shuttered, granite and marble cracked, and something deep underneath them groaned like a beast roaring.

Fear settled over the group of heavenly beings like a dark cloud.

Tears streamed down your face as the last of Hinata's warmth faded.

Darkness leaked from you and something in you snapped.

These beings deserved no mercy from you. Not after what they had done, not after what they had caused.

Most gods experimented with their powers as they grew older, but you had never done that. You had tried to rein them all in, and only ever used them when they were close to destroying you.

With Hinata gone, there was nothing left in this world for you.

You erupted.

Every repressed cursed, every welled up power, forced out with the fury of an immortal being.

Screams rang throughout the heavens as you fractured the seams of the world, extinguished the humans below and detonated stars that you had loved so dearly before Hinata had appeared.

Of all the screams that were resonating about, yours was the loudest.

The sorrow, the anguish, the anger and disappointment, the love, the indifference all mixed together in a cacophony of rage and loss.

In this world, it really did end in screams.

The next time you and Hinata crossed paths, you were known as the Queen of the underworld.

Hinata was the Captain of the Royal Guard, and he had been tasked with tracking you down and putting a stop to you.

He had found you at a masquerade, dressed in scarlet, a burnt gold mask hiding the top half of your face.

Posing as a contact, you danced with him, until he finally figured out who you were.

"My orders are to take you back to the castle," Hinata had said. "There are people within the walls that seem to think you are one of the purest evils on these streets."

"You think differently?" you had asked.

"I've noticed that of all of your victims, none of them were ever children or mothers."

"So?"

"I don't think that you're evil, I think there's more to you than you or anyone else thinks."

"Is that so?"

Hinata had nodded, keeping an arm firmly around your waist, hand in yours.

"Come to the palace with me, help me, and I can help you," Hinata had said.

"Let me leave this party and I'll be able to help you from my own home," you had bargained.

"Meet me one a week at a neutral location," Hinata had argued.

"Deal," you had said, "but no other guards, no weapons, just two people."

"Just two people," he had agreed.

You may have been the Queen of the underworld, but you were a woman of your word.

You and Hinata met once a week for two years before you decided to go with him to the castle.

"Hinata, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Would you like to meet my son?"

That had stopped Hinata dead in his tracks.

At first, you were worried that he was going to be angry, but instead he seemed concerned for your safety.

"How old is he?" Hinata asked.

"Two years old," you admitted. "I had just had him when we first met."

"Was . . . did you . . . ."

Hinata, unable to ask the real question, seemed to be praying you understood.

"I thought his father loved me," you murmured, laying a hand on your stomach absently. "I was seventeen when we met. He was only three years older than me, and he had connections that I could use to my advantage. He didn't know who -or what I suppose- I was. When I found out I was pregnant, I thought he would be happy, I thought we would get married.

"Instead, when I told him, he beat me so badly I almost miscarried, and left me for dead in the streets. My loyal men found me, made sure I was cared for, and killed the father. I promised myself that I would never let another man in like that. And then I met you. You, despite your position, didn't want anything other than information from me. You wanted to help the people on the streets and put a stop to the corruption."

You glanced at Hinata, at those warm brown eyes.

Memories flashed behind your eyes, and you gave him a small smile.

"Have you started to remember yet?" you asked him quietly.

In the last three lifetimes, his eyes were always the same color. His hair and face shape were different, as were his height, and sometimes his personality, just like you, but his eyes were the same warm shade of brown.

"I wasn't sure whether you remembered or not," he murmured, nodding.

"I remember everything."

"It's nice to meet you again, (Y/N)."

"Hello to you too Hinata Shouyo."

You, your son, and Hinata were all assassinated in your bed during your first night at the castle.

The last words you said to each other were 'Forever and always'.

More lifetimes passed, more meetings, more deaths, more children, until this lifetime.

You were the manager for Seijoh, and -ironically enough- Kageyama's twin sister, despite looking almost nothing like him.

"Hey, Hinata Boke! Why are you drooling over my sister like that?" the setter snapped, drawing Hinata, and you, out of your memories.

"Ease up Tobio," you had chided, hitting your brother's shoulder lightly before holding your hand out to Shouyo.

"(Y/N), nice to meet you Hinata."

Hinata could read the unspoken 'again' in your eyes.

"You too, (Y/L/N)," he said, not bothering to hide the smile that was spreading across his face.

Every lifetime, every universe, you were destined to fall in love with Hinata Shouyo.

Sometimes you were enemies, sometimes you were friends, sometimes you were strangers, but in the end, you were his, just like he was yours.

Forever and always.

#hinata x reader #shouyou x reader #shoyo x reader #shouyo x reader #shoyou x reader #shouyou hinata x reader #hinata shouyo x reader #hinata shouyou x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #shoyo hinata x reader #soulmate au #haikyuu x reader #reincarnation au #x reader #i have no clue where this came from

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pinkoptics · 3 years

Text

I just found this on my phone, having completely and utterly forgotten that I even wrote it. I love it. I really do. I fleshed it out, added a little more and I just want to post it because I’m so proud of it.

Cherik Fallen Angel Ficlet

(Part 1 of Chapter 1)

~1500 words

Charles is an angel (in the literal, lived in Heaven, sense) and falls to earth because of his love for Erik (of course). Some humour, some angst, some adorableness.

They cut off only one.

It was a cruelty beyond measure. For as long as he lived, and that would not be long now that his immortality had been stripped along with his wing, he would have a constant reminder of what he had been— an angel, one of God’s chosen, beautiful, protector of God’s children.

Only... he had taken that protection too far. He had interfered with God’s plan and been cast out of His Kingdom. He would never again know His Grace.

He was mortal and would now endure everything that came with it— mortal frailty, mortal lifespan. The only remanent of what he had been was a wing only he could see. He held back a very mortal sob. It was trapped in his now mortal throat and burned. The sensation was new and horrible, tearing at his new flesh in a way that seemed physical. Mortal emotions. Mortal wounds.

All because he had experienced the most mortal emotion of all— love.

He had saved his beloved from death. His beloved’s time had come and Charles had altered time and space itself for it not to be so, to not have to see Erik broken and bloodied on pavement, hit by a car. Random. Pointless. Except that it wasn’t pointless at all. Charles knew this. Charles had known this for millennia. Each human had a beginning and an end. Angels could help them along the way, bless their paths, smooth wrinkles, lend strength in hours of need, but the end of those paths were truly the end. The fabric of everything, the Plan, and the paths of everyone who should have been impacted by Erik’s death, were now in disarray, unravelling. Charles did not know what that meant. No one had ever done what he had.

“Are you okay?”

Charles blinked against the brightness of the sun above him, eyes stinging and watering from it in a way the obscured the vision of his new mortal eyes.

“Gott. You— you saved my life. Are you... Fuck, are you okay?”

When his imperfect vision finally focused, Erik came into view, hovering above him, concern etched into his unbelievably handsome features.

“I— “ Charles only got one word out before he had to pause. His human voice sounded odd to his human ears, no longer the effortlessly beautiful melody it had once been. “I... I’m fine.”

A lie.

He had been on earth for mere seconds and already a lie, a sin, had spilled from his lips. He was not fine. He was not anywhere close to fine. He was not in the vicinity of fine. But, what else could he say? I’m awful. God has cast me out of heaven because I literally love you more than heaven itself, so I threw away everything because I couldn’t watch you die.

No, he couldn’t say that.

Erik was offering his hand and it took him too long to realize Erik meant to help him up. He took it, the shock of skin to skin contact almost causing him to tumble back to the ground. All these years and he’d no idea what Erik felt like. Now, he did.

Erik’s eyes widened and he said, “Fuck. You’re not fine. You’re bleeding.”

Bleeding?

As though he were watching the scene from a distance, Charles saw the blood dripping from his elbow and splattering on the pavement below. It couldn’t be his blood. He didn’t have blood. But, no, that wasn’t true, he did now, didn’t he? What did one do when they were bleeding?

“I think you’re in shock.”

Understatement.

Erik had grasped his uninjured elbow and was guiding him off the street and onto the sidewalk. He had some distant awareness that other things were happening. There was noise, shouting, terrible smells— all of it swirling around him, cacophonous and awful, and the only thing holding him remotely together was Erik’s arm on his elbow.

“Fuck, you’re bleeding a lot.”

Charles was sitting now. Erik had guided him to do that too.

“Am I?”

Was it a lot? Charles wasn’t sure, not really being the expert in such things. How much blood did human bodies have? How much could they lose before it was too much? Was his mortal life to be measured in minutes? If it was, that was fine... Erik was alive. That’s what mattered— Erik. Alive.

“You’re smiling. Fuck. This isn’t good. You shouldn’t be smiling. Hey— look at me.”

Erik’s hand was pressed against his cheek now.

“What’s your name? Tell me your name.”

“Charles.”

“Charles, I’m Erik. You’re absolutely not fucking passing out on me okay? You just saved me from getting hit by a fucking car. You’re cute as all hell, completely my type, and I am going to take you out on a date after this to say thank you. Emma will never let me hear the end of it if I let this Hallmark movie meet-cute opportunity slip through my fingers.”

Charles furrowed his new brow. He hadn’t the slightest clue what Erik was talking about. Was he in shock too? Maybe, despite all of Charles’ efforts, he was injured too?

Erik was pressing hard against something on his arm. Charles looked down, briefly, to see cloth trying to stem the tide of blood. When had that happened? He looked back up, asking, “What’s a Hallmark? You’re beautiful. You should know you’re beautiful. Before I leave this mortal realm, I want you to know that.”

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Erik was saying that a lot. That couldn’t be a good sign. “Hang in, okay? The ambulances are coming. They’re going to take care of you. You and I are going to laugh about this when we tell people about how we met. They’re going to hate and love how obnoxiously cute it is, I’m going to hate how obnoxiously cute it is, because I don’t do cute and because shit like this doesn’t happen to real people.”

Charles started to laugh. If only he knew. “That’s because I’m not a real person.”

“You’re not, huh? What are you then, my guardian angel?”

The only appropriate response to that was to laugh harder. “Would you believe me if I said I was?” His ribs? Yes, his ribs started to pain him when he couldn’t stop laughing.

“Great, the cute guy who just saved my life is either insane or delirious.”

Charles felt like he couldn’t suck in a proper breath. Was that because he’d never had to breathe before so he wasn’t doing it properly, or was he injured in some place that effected breathing too?

“Both,” Charles wheezed.

Erik seemed to register his new distress and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, as much as I’m loving this crazy repartee, just slow down, okay? Breathe. You are going to be all right and I don’t make promises lightly.”

“I know.”

“You don’t. Stop talking. In... out... in... out...”

Charles did as he was told. In, out, in, out... there, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Except that it was and he was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to be, or how did humans get anything done when they had to focus so hard on breathing? That would have been a design flaw and God’s creatures didn’t have design flaws.

“In... out... I’m going to take you to this amazing little diner. It doesn’t look like much and you’re going to be thinking ‘I saved this idiot’s life and he’s thanking me by taking me here?’ But I promise you the food is better than any of the pretentious 5 star nonsense you find in New York.”

“Sounds—“ Cough. “—nice.”

“That’s talking. Stop it. You’re going to love it. You’re also going to be sworn to secrecy because if the fucking hipsters ever find out about it, it will be completely ruined.”

Charles tried to agree, or ask what a hipster was, but his voice seemed to be gone. That couldn’t be good either, could it?

“You’re going to be so impressed with my choice, you will immediately think dating me is an excellent idea.”

Charles already thought dating Erik was the most excellent of ideas. It had a lot to do with why he was in this situation in the first place. It was also one of the last conscious thoughts he had before things got rather dim and Erik’s voice indistinct. Perhaps God had gone more Old Testament on him than he had thought. Save Erik— get cast out of heaven. Erik asks him out on a date— pass out and... pass away?

But, there was one more thing Erik was supposed to know, something important, something very important, something Charles would never forgive himself for if Erik never knew. What was it? If only thinking wasn’t so hard...

Oh.

Right.

Of course.

“Erik, you are so loved.”

There.

Done.

Rest assured that Charles wakes up, in the hospital, asking for Erik. Erik is already there, worried out of his mind about the adorable insane man who saved his life. And, they will absolutely go on that diner date.

On to Chapter 1 - Part 2

#cherik #cherik fanfic #cherik fan fic #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #pinkoptics writes #pinkoptics fic #fallen angel fic

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johaerys-writes · 3 years

Text

Fandom: The Song of Achilles

Pairing: Achilles/Patroclus

Summary:

Patroclus is a sailor, and Achilles a merman that saves his life when his ship is caught in a storm. The two end up on a deserted island, and the friendship that develops between them will change both of their lives for good.

Chapter 3: The Nymph Who Became Star, the penultimate chapter of my Merman AU Fall Into Your Tide is up! Art is by the wonderful @katartstrophe :)

Read on Ao3! Or read from the beginning

Once upon a time, deep in the Laconian mountains, there lived a nymph. The forest was her home; she walked the woods and swam in the streams, protected the animals that lived there and helped the trees and plants grow strong.

One day, she met a young man from a nearby village. He was a healer’s apprentice, and had ventured deep into the forest in search of medicinal plants. Touched by his gentle manners and dedication to his craft, the nymph decided to help him and share her knowledge with him. The man returned the next day, and the day after that, bringing her gifts of flowers and honeyed sweets. His visits became a regular occurrence; they would spend hours together, talking and gathering herbs, exploring the forest. It wasn’t long before the two fell in love.

Months passed in peaceful bliss. However, when the next summer came, a terrible war broke out with a neighbouring state, and the man was called away from his village and sent to battle.

Endless days rolled by without him. The nymph waited and waited, fearing the worst, for she knew well how fickle and short the lives of humans were, winked out in a fateful instant like the flame of a candle. Finally, after several months, the war came to an end. The men who had gone to battle returned— or what was left of them.

The young man did not come to her. Overcome by worry, the nymph decided to approach the village in hopes of seeing him, even though she had always kept her distance from humans and their settlements. When she finally found his house amidst the multitudes of others, she hid in the trees of the garden and peeked inside.

She was overjoyed to see that her love was still alive, but her relief was short-lived. He had been grievously wounded, and his life was hanging by a thread. The healers of the village had done what they could, and all that was left was prayer. Incense burned around him night and day, while he lay on the bed, pale and unmoving.

The nymph's heart ached with longing and grief, such that she had never known in her long life. Tearful and distraught, she returned to her forest, determined to find some way to help him.

She searched for the other nymphs, much older and more experienced than her in the art of healing. None knew of a way to bring back someone that was only a breath away from crossing Hades’ rivers.

“Death cannot be healed,” they admonished her, “and it should not.”

The nymph listened to no one. She kept asking, kept searching. Only a dryad, knowledgeable and wise and older than the forest itself, her skin tough and leathery like an oak tree’s bark, knew of an answer. She told her of a herb, one that grew on Olympus’ highest peak. It was the rarest plant there was, unmatched in its potency. It could mend the deepest wounds, cure the most severe of illnesses.

"The gods guard their home well," the dryad warned her, "and do not tolerate trespassers. No one dares enter the Olympians’ realm without their consent. Anyone who does, must pay the price.” T he nymph thanked the dryad for her help. There was nothing else for her to do other than to brave the long and arduous journey to Mount Olympus.

She was quick and silent as she travelled, yet her movements did not go unnoticed. Zeus' eyes were on her long before she'd reached the foot of the mountain. For an oread, a mountain nymph, to leave the safety of her forest and travel such great distances, to cross rivers and plains and deep ravines and pass so close by so many human settlements was unheard of. So he watched, curious, and waited.

When the nymph reached the middle of the mountain, he disguised himself as a centaur, and presented himself to her. When asked where she was going, the nymph told him the truth:

"I have come to gather a herb, to heal the one I love. It grows on Olympus' highest peak."

Zeus was angered by her boldness, but her earnestness intrigued him more. He warned her, not unkindly,“If you continue on your quest, you will make the gods angry. They do not take kindly to such insults.”

The nymph thanked him for the warning, and continued on her way.

Zeus kept following her, taking on many disguises: a deer, a hunter, a satyr. Each time, he told the nymph the same thing, and she responded in the same way: she thanked him warmly, and continued.

When she finally reached the peak, and her satchel was filled with the precious herb, Zeus presented himself to her. He thundered and shone, blindingly bright, in all his menacing godly glory. I nstead of cowering before him, the nymph stood tall.

“I am aware that this is your land,” she told him, “and this plant belongs to you. Whatever price you command for it, I will gladly pay it.”

Zeus thought long and hard. The nymph’s insolence was unparalleled, but he found her bravery refreshing. In the end, he decided to let her go, allowing her to take with her not only the rare plant she had gathered, but also enough provisions for her journey home to Taygetus’ misty peaks.

The nymph returned to the young man’s village as swiftly as she could. In a matter of days, he had regained his full strength; he was lively and healthy again, as bright and fair as he had been before he had left for the war. They were both so glad, that their love shone like a midsummer sun.

It was then that Zeus reached down and plucked the nymph from the earth and her lover’s embrace. He placed her among the stars and tasked her with guarding the very plant she had stolen, for all time. Before he left, he set one of his fearsome eagles upon her, to make sure she would never shirk her duty.

The price for saving her lover’s life had finally been paid.

The Guardian star shines in the midst of the constellation of Aquila, Zeus’ eagle. The star shines the brightest during the summer months, when the plant is in full bloom.

Achilles let out a sigh after I had finished. The sky had darkened while I recounted the story, and the stars were now twinkling above us. We were lying on our backs on the sand, still warm from the sun that had been beating upon it all day.

“Olympians,” he muttered darkly, “and their cruelty.”

Many times before had Achilles expressed his dislike of the Olympians. The nereids were Titan-born, and the Titans had not been on good terms with the powerful and arrogant sons and daughters of Cronus for millennia. By the way Achilles’ brow furrowed whenever I told him tales of their many transgressions or fierce punishments of those who displeased them, I could tell that this animosity between the old and newer gods was far from forgotten.

“Why did not Zeus simply let her take the plant?” he asked. “He didn’t need it. He wouldn’t miss it. What could one mortal’s life have meant to him, in the grand scheme of things?”

“In truth," I said, "I do not think it was about the plant at all."

“What was it about, then?”

“Perhaps it was because the nymph attempted to hold on to something she was never meant to have," I told him earnestly. "She wasn’t meant to have a long and happy life with that man; he was dying. Nothing could change that other than this plant, and it was forbidden. She wished to avoid the pain of losing him, therefore she was punished."

Achilles frowned. "Anyone would wish to avoid that. That doesn’t sound like that serious of a crime to me.”

I took a breath, letting my gaze drift over the dark sky above. Achilles’ scent of ocean currents, of salt and sand filled my lungs, warming me. His hand was so close to mine, I could feel the faint heat emanating from his skin, yet I did not dare close the distance between us. Something held me back. It always did.

"Pain is only a natural consequence of living,” I said, and the words sounded dry to my ears, harsh. “Death, separation; those are the rules. Life is the exception. This is how it’s always been, for humans. If the souls in Hades’ halls were released, they could fill the earth ten times over— there are so many more souls down there than up here, an infinite supply of them. The only certainty for any mortal is that, one day, they will die. For gods, it’s different. Life is guaranteed; death is but an improbable outcome. The nymph wished to defy this rule, to give her lover something that wasn't hers to give, or his to keep. In so doing, she would have challenged the order of the world itself. It could not happen. The gods could not allow it.”

Achilles turned his head to look at me, his large, feline eyes piercing me to the core. The light brush of his breath against my shoulder sent a roll of warmth cascading through me.

“Do you think she shouldn’t have done it, then?”

I stayed silent for a moment, pondering his question. "That is not for me to say," I said after a short while. "I'm not sure it was a matter of choice for her. It is said that, when you love someone, you act to keep them with you for as long as you can." I shook my head lightly. "I have never loved someone like that before, the way the nymph loved this young man. But I think… I think I can imagine what it must have been like, for her.”

The truth was, I had never let anyone too close to me. I did not know what it was like, to care about someone deeply enough to risk everything to keep them by my side, the same way that no one had ever fought to keep me by theirs. My father had given me up when I was far too young to know the difference, and since then I'd had to largely rely on myself for my survival. I always tended to keep my distance from most people I met, and never lingered in any one place or ship for too long. Xanthos was my closest friend; we had known each other for years, but even he would go away for months at a time to return to his family, while I stayed at sea. I had always been alone, and I always told myself I preferred it that way.

I had thought my life peaceful, comfortable, even. A life of hard work and few luxuries, yet it was mine. I was a free man, depending on no one. I had thought myself content. It wasn’t until I had come close to losing my life in that storm, until I had found myself on this island, until I had met Achilles, that I realised how drab and colourless my life had truly been.

Achilles was looking up at the night sky now, his profile illuminated by starlight. The stars shone bright, like a multitude of silver pins on a dark blue canopy, keeping it in place. He lifted his arm, pointing at a cluster of stars right above us. "Is this the nymph's star?"

"No," I told him, "it's this one." I took his hand and moved it slightly to the left, until it was pointing right at the Guardian star, the smallest of the bunch.

He gazed at the star for a long moment. Then, he asked, "Whatever happened to the young man? The one she fell in love with?"

"I don't know," I replied. "That was where the story ended. I never learned the young man’s fate."

He sighed. “I would have liked to know what happened to him,” he said. “What his life was like, after the nymph was taken.”

“You would?”

"Yes." Achilles tilted his head to look at me. “It is the greater grief, after all, isn't it,” he said softly, “to be left behind when another is gone?"

The nightbirds cooed above us, and the chill breeze stirred the leaves of the cypress trees that lined the coast. The world was peaceful, and in the silence that lingered, I thought I could hear his heart beating, a quiet and steady thump between us. His skin reflected the pale moonlight, and in its feeble glow he looked very nearly transparent. When his eyes focused on me like this, soft and dreamy, almost wistful, I knew that I wanted nothing more than to be where they could see me.

I swallowed, willing myself to meet his gold-flecked gaze. Gods, I could drown in those eyes. I would gladly let their shifting currents swallow me whole.

"It is," I whispered.

Read the rest on Ao3!

#the song of achilles #tsoa #patrochilles #patroclus x achilles #achilles x patroclus #achilles #patroclus #achilles/patroclus #patroclus/achilles #tsoa fanfic #tsoa fanart #merman au #fall into your tide #johaerys writes

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