#forged fruit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dead-end-draws · 13 days

Text

WOF tribe Merchant/Trading booth concepts:

Hey folks! This one was the recent winner of this WOF poll, so here’s my concept art that headcannons trading in Pyyria.

Read below cut for close-ups of the individual booths + the thought process / headcannons behind the design choices: 👇

Skywings: The Sky Kingdom’s mountain ranges provide plenty of pasture for raising sheep. As such, Skywing shepherds benefit from traveling to sell their wool, dyes, fabric, and woven tapestries. Many of these merchant tables also include herbs grown exclusively in the mountains, or ibex drinking horns that can be strapped on a dragon’s shoulder & carried in flight.

Along with goods, Skywing merchants may offer sewing services to fix tears, burn marks, or other fabric damage. They are sought out for their quality clothing, and most fabric across Pyyria originated from a Skywing’s talons.

Mudwings: Mudwings’ abundant food & cooking skills are envied almost anywhere in Pyrria. Their swamps have fertile soil, responsible for hosting diverse crops which can be purchased as produce at merchant stalls. For those lucky enough to find a traveling Mudwing merchant, the promise of a delicious dish can be whipped up and served at the stall in no time. Along with produce goods, Mudwings sell weaved baskets, spices, and cooking ware.

Sandwings: Sandwing booths offer luxuries of the desert: It’s most common to find accessories such as gold carved jewelry or musical instruments such as drums, lyres, & mandolins for sale. Though, even more sought out across Pyrria is Sandwing tattoos/piercings, which are done within the merchant areas. Ink etchings on papyrus paper are stationed outside their tents to showcase designs. All which can be selected, and poked into the skin with a tapping stick and plant dye ink by a trained talon.

Seawings: SeaWings sell a variety of ocean related goods; taking a share in the fish market with Icewings. Outside of food, there are den decorations like driftwood carvings, accessories such as seashell & pearl jewelry, and rope nets weaved by expert Seawing sailors. Some Seawings even sell fishing equipment, canoes, or offer sailor knot tying instructions to curious dragon buyers.

Nightwings: During the war, it was near impossible to find a Nightwing merchant. Most refused to participate in merchant territory, mostly as a way to keep up with their tribe’s mysterious nature.

Though in the more shady, unground parts of the market you can buy from a huge selection of obsidian weaponry, the sharpest in Pyyria. No one knew initially how Nightwings smithed so many weapons, or why, until their secret volcano kingdom and the intention to invade the rainforest was discovered. Then forging armor & weapons became clear. Along with a vast armory, for the right price, some Nightwing merchants offer Prophecies & Nightwing Literature (not always guaranteed to always be reliable) and assassin services as well (very reliable).

Rainwings: Though Rainwings haven’t been part of Pyyria’s trading for years, they have a vast hold on dragon medicine. An apothecary of herbs, salves, and remedies are all offered for various ailments due to the rainforest’s abundant resources. Along with medicinal goods, many Rainwings are fruit vendors, promising to any hesitant meat-eating dragons that such an array of flavors isn’t to be missed. Though, their fruit selling pitches often fall flat to most other predominantly meat-eating tribes.

Icewings: Icewings have everything a dragon could need to brace the cold, with a selection of goods only found in the most frigid regions of Pyyria. Furs, bone jewelry, and fresh fish (thanks to frost breath) are served on ice. Though Icewings themselves don’t require fur to withstand the cold, it’s considered fashionable and common in upper ranks to wear fur as a status symbol. Since metal is hard to smith without fire & in cold temperatures, fur and bone are more accessible to Icewings for clothing statements.

2K notes · View notes

ozzgin · 2 months

Text

Yandere! Demon King Headcanons

You have accepted the Demon King’s marriage proposal!

I wasn't planning on writing a second part, but some of you gave me ideas and I decided on short headcanons instead. The image of a big, buff, evil Overlord lovingly doing house chores for their human was too tempting.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance

[Main Story]

The proposal, as you quickly found out, came as a surprise to everyone. Not even the King’s loyal butler knew of such intentions; he’d assumed they were finally going to destroy everything and everyone at once. To him, the dramatic scene of you and his Lord enveloped in flames was anything but a romantic confession. It was your final battle. So one might imagine the poor lizard’s confusion when the Demon King returned with you following behind. “S-sir?” He questioned meekly. The armored creature nodded at his servant. “It has been done. We’ll plan the wedding upon our arrival home.” The what? His baffled expression must’ve given him away, because the Demon continued: “What’re you gawking like that for? Didn’t I ask you earlier how humans forge a bond?” The butler stumbled to search for his words, swallowing dryly. “Well y-yes, your Majesty…I just didn’t expect it to be anything more than curiosity.”

The same speechless reaction repeated itself all the way to the Kingdom. Soldiers, diplomats, other monstrous entities of the unknown Land, they all greeted you in disbelief. So much, in fact, that you began to poke fun at their hesitant response: “I am his mortal enemy”, you’d announce with a dramatic bow. “Spouse! We talked about this!” the Demon Lord would quickly correct you, flustered.

Truth be told, you're not quite sure what made you accept this ridiculous offer. Perhaps a mixture of intrigue and disillusionment. The city you've dedicated yourself to stood no longer, burnt to a crisp along with its corruption and crookery. In a way, the monster had unshackled you from a responsibility you no longer wanted to bear. And if that wasn't enough to convince you, well, the sight of the Ruler himself kneeling before you certainly sealed the deal.

Although it may take a while for you to accept the idea that your worst adversary had actually been infatuated with you this entire time. Were there even any hints? During your last battle you nearly died. You'd crawled out of an enormous crater on your fours, bones shattered and ligaments torn. When you pointed this out to your groom-to-be, he stared at you in horror. "I had no idea humans were that fragile. I was trying to adjust my strength so as to not do any harm." You could only nod, patting away the sweat beads forming on your forehead. Uh huh. Maybe it's better you didn't experience his full range of attacks.

Ever since the devastating revelation, he's been extra careful when handling you. Sometimes he'll awkwardly hover his large hands above you, with a concentrated frown on his face. "What the hell are you doing?" you ask, eyeing him suspiciously. "I'm trying to be gentle." he'll answer. "You're not even touching me." Fair point, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

The Demon King will often ask you about customs from your world as a way to make you comfortable, just in case you get struck by the occasional homesickness. His Realm is very different from what you're used to, after all. Lamentably, his own years spent in the human world were not too fruitful from a cultural point of view. He was either busy stalking you or devouring the souls of the innocent. Now that he has nothing else to worry about, he will gladly listen and even do his best to actively participate.

You wake up shrouded in thick smoke. Overwhelmed by heavy déjà vu, you rush down the grand stairs, searching for the source of the fire. Are you being attacked? Enemies of the Demon King? You elbow yourself against the kitchen door, similar to when you left your home to find the city ablaze. The Demon Lord turns to face you, visibly overwhelmed and exhausted. You gawk at the scene unfolding before you and remember to close your mouth, mainly out of politeness. "It's too small. I'm afraid I cannot use it", he reveals timidly, holding a human spatula between his fingers to showcase the impractical size difference. You glance at the disastrous attempt behind him and manage to deduce he'd been trying to make breakfast. In an unspoken agreement, he steps back and allows you to take over.

"I'm surprised you let him burn down the kitchen", you mention to the butler once you get a moment to yourself. The scaly servant sighs, and theatrically lifts his clawed hands in hopelessness. "Pointless to argue with him when he's like this, (Y/N). In my entire life serving the Family, I've never witnessed a more stubborn leader." He points to the lavish portraits adorning the walls with a faint smile. "And, to put it frankly, he's obsessed with you. I've never seen him in a more deplorable state. Marrying a human?! The shame, the outrage!” he cries out. “No offense intended to you, of course. You must understand." You hum in agreement, a tad uncomfortable, yet sympathetic. "M-maybe it'll tone down after the wedding?" you suggest as encouragement. "Oh, no, I suspect it will only get worse", he bemoans in return. Then, he promptly straightens his back and resumes his duties.

You go on your own way, not wanting to burden the lizard in his work. As you cross the hallway, you find the Demon King himself scanning each room, somewhat agitated. He notices you and his features soften. "I was wondering where you'd vanished." You approach him with the words of the butler still ringing in your ears.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #yandere demon king #yandere male x reader #gender neutral reader #monster romance #monster boyfriend #yandere oc

3K notes · View notes

giamee · 2 months

Text

✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ DO YOU WANT SOMEBODY LIKE I WANT SOMEBODY?

ಇ roommate!jing yuan, roommate!sampo, roommate!gepard x reader ︴wordcount :: 1.7k ︴contains :: nothing crazy, sampo with tattoos, in gepard's part reader drinks wine like a White Woman TM ︴part one ︴requested by @elsy34 @sydneyy-l @fairiesdobesparklin @w9vyy

ఌ︎. | JING YUAN

you've quickly come to realise that your roommate is a workaholic

his punctuality, his strict regime of getting up at 6 and coming back at 6 seems to be the only constant in your life

the little mumbled apologies to inanimate objects as his too-large frame squeezes into your dingy shared bathroom causes you to roll over in your bed, a little smile growing at his sweet antics

then after about the 20 minutes it took him to shower and get ready, as well as fix himself - and you, you've noticed recently- breakfast before he's out the door as quietly as he can manage

then you're out of bed a bit after he leaves, yawning idly as you make your way out of your room, smiling fondly at the intricarely prepared fruit and yoghurt bowl that jing yuan had left you, along with a little smily face drawn on a post-it note

you eat it slowly, savouring the taste of it as you slowly wake up, before naking your way into the bathroom to freshen up

it's warm from the shower jing yuan had taken earlier, and the combination of his products and cologne that he had also sprayed almost envelopes you in a hug as you brush your teeth, your eyes noticing the little doodles left by the steam on the mirror

"out of milk" - :( is what jing yuan had decided to write this time, along with his attempt of a drawing of a milk carton

you giggle at the wonkiness of it, making a mental note to add it to the shopping list later

and you do your own little routine too, leaving a little later than him and coming back a little sooner on account of the fact that your job was a lot closer to your apartment than his was

and this next part- when the work day was over- was your most favourite part of the shared little routine that had been forged over the weeks you've spent living with jing yuan

you hear the key turn in the lock as your roommate lets himself in, a teasing "honey, i'm home" accompanying the slight shuffle of him taking off his coat and shoes

you cast him a wave from what you're doing tonight - this time, it's your turn to cook dinner - and you turn your attention back to the stove as you hear jing yuan pad over to you , peering over your shoulder and humming in approval at the choice of food

that brief closeness in proximity tantalised you with the same warmth and smells of his cologne that had been so comforting in the morning, and you felt some of your own stress melt away as you kept stirring the contents of the pan

and in this pseudo domesticity, you found comfort in your roommate, as he began to set the table for just the two of you

ఌ︎. | SAMPO

where to start with him omg

you don't know what to think when you first move in

he seems so scary with his hair and his tattoos and his cigarettes

but he's sweet, too, and his face lights up a little every time he manages to make you laugh

and hey, maybe he wouldn't be too bad as a roommate

after he figured out that you aren't a smoker yourself, he makes sure to always smoke either before he came back to your shared space, or out on the balcony far away from you

"those things will kill you, y'know"

your protest is lighthearted, and sampo smirks as he brings his lighter to the end of the cig dangling from his lips

"it's not like i'm gonna live forever"

it was the little things, after all

and little by little, your differing lifestyles began to integrate

you come to learn that sampo had a knack for remembering the details

you had been called to cover a coworker's shift at the last minute, one that would end a lot later than you're accustomed to

and since you took the bus to and from work, you were really not looking forward to taking it on the way back, when it would be pitch black outside with mostly drunkards to keep you company on it

and that dreadful thought had been put off for the time being

but with your shift drawing to a close, you stop your work momentarily to check what the buzz from your phone was

hey

i'm outside

come out when you're ready

-sampo

your eyebrows knitted together in confusion

you had told sampo when you would get off work, but you definitely hadn't asked him to pick you up after it had ended

but you were never one to turn down such an offer

you finished closing up, before leaving the building

you spotted a couple cars left parked on the side of the road, though all were empty with the headlights off

you clutched your phone, about to text sampo and ask exactly where he was l, before you heard a shout of your name from somewhere to your left that had you spinning on your heel

and you didn't know what to expect when sampo said he was here to pick you up, but it certainly wasn't this

you approached sampo, eyeing the motorbike that he was leaned against dubiously, mentally cursing yourself for assuming that he would drive a car, because of course sampo just had to do something more dangerous than that

sampo straightened up as you drew close, smiling and handing you a spare helmet, laughing at the uncertainty on your face

"if you hold on to me, you'll be fine, c'mon"

ఌ︎. | GEPARD (PT. 2)

it was hard to tell where you and gepard stood right now, ever since that night

on the one hand, you were still friendly around each other, and nothing had really changed behaviour-wise in either of you

yet on the other, your brain was constantly plaguing you with the memories of how his fingers had felt against your thighs, fingers in his hair and scratching at his scalp as he melted against you

it wasn't technically romantic, but it sure as hell had felt like it

and maybe it was just the wine that you had been drinking that night, but there's certain moments where you catch a certain hungered look in his eyes that makes you think that maybe, just maybe he was feeling the same inner turmoil that you were

but life goes on

work was getting busier for gepard, and much to your chagrin you were seeing less and less of him

maybe that was for the best, to give you the space and time to get over the silly little crush that you had on your roommate

"but you don't want to," that little pesky voice in the back of your head whispered to you

you shook your head a little violently to clear it, deciding that a distraction was in order

you had an unopened bottle of wine and a new series to binge screaming your name right now

and so you settle on your couch, putting on the show, letting yourself sigh into the cushions and welcoming the little headache that would ensue after you finish your first couple glasses

you noticed, with some amusement, that this was basically the position that you were in when gepard had laid on your thighs

these thoughts would be harder to avoid than you realise

you managed to immerse yourself into the show somewhat, too engrossed to hear the front door open, much like how it had happened that night

but your attention is transfixed to the screen, not to the sight of gepard as he walks in, yawning and practically making a beeline to where you sat on the couch

and then you realised he was there, when the cushions dipped underneath his weight, his arms thrown against the back of the sofa, one resting behind you

there's a pang of ... disappointment? that you feel when you realise that he hadn't sat in front of you once again, but you push that aside, scanning your roommate's face ij concern

he looks paler than usual, deep eyebags underneath his dulled eyes, and a glance at the time has you double taking as you see that it's past eleven

"your overtime pay must be through the roof," you try to joke, and you get the feeling that the half smile gepard responds with is the most that he can muster right now

and again, like there is some other being urging you to do so, you find yourself acting without thinking about consequences or what it might imply

"do you want a massage?"

gepard doesn't even have the energy to look surprised, merely nodding

you motion for him to lie flat on the couch, and he does so a little too quickly, not giving your tipsy self enough time to stand up before his head falls onto your thighs

oh, you think

he looks really pretty like this

his feet are dangling a little off the end due to his too-tall stature meeting the too-small couch, but you do your best to make him otherwise comfortable

he's on his front, arms now snaking their way around your hips and legs like he's done this so many tines before, and you could have sworn that the man even nuzzled his cheek against your soft skin before lying still

your hands hover for a second, unsure of how exactly to start and not expecting it to even get this far, butterflies in your stomach be damned

your fingers gingerly meet the junction where his neck joins his shoulder, immediately prodding a knot of tension

you do your best to rub circles into his skin, feeling out the muscle underneath to target

you were no professional, but the way that gepard was sighing contentedly from your touch made you think that you were doing something right

it was a few minutes of this silence, his breaths beginnign to even as you wirked your way down his back, doing the best that you could over the material of his shirt stretched thin across his back

the slight loll of his head alerted you that he was asleep, along with the softest puffs of air from his mouth that blew against your thigh

you continued for a bit more, wanting to do your best to get the knots out, before you felt the tug of sleep at yourself as well

the rhythm of gepard's breathing was constant and soothing, and you dismissed the worries of what to do about you and him and this predicament tomorrow- when you both wake up on the couch

gia's notes :: much anticipated continuation of the roommate hsr series yippeee ^_^ gepard is back 💯💯 also i only realised like... near the end of jing yuan's part that his ass is NOT a workaholic but... whats done is done ig 😔 shoutout to me not having played the 2.0 update yet,, or the game at all recently tbh ,,,

-‘๑’- honkai star rail masterlist

#୨୧ gia.txt :: jing yuan #୨୧ gia.txt :: sampo #୨୧ gia.txt :: gepard #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #hsr gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan x reader #sampo koski x reader #sampo x reader #hsr sampo x reader

681 notes · View notes

iroyal786 · 2 years

Photo

Damascus Chef Set with black handle MATERIAL Blade Material : Damascus Steel Handle Material : Colored Wood With Steel Bolsters Sheath Material : Pure Cow Leather DETIALS Overall Length : 8''-14'' approx. Blade Length : 3.5''-8.5'' approx. Handle Length : 5'' approx. CUSTOMIZATION Any Type of Customizations are Available along with any country Flag design on handle. PRICE & SHIPPING DM for price and more information Free Shipping (Anywhere in the World) NOTE 1. Please Keep It Out of Reach of Children. 2. The blade is very sharp, please use it carefully. 3. Use oil or wax after use. 4. Do not keep the blade in the sheath for a long time. 5. Items in Display are just a sample, when order is placed, fresh product is made and dispatched. #damascus #damascusknife #chef #cooking #food #restaurant #cuttingboard #meat #vegitable #salad #fruit #kitchen #handmade #fixedblade #forged #anniversary #wedding #birthday #chef #giftforher #giftforhim #professional #pro #set https://www.instagram.com/p/Ce9jIH1Ifa6/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

0 notes

oxymorayuri · 13 days

Text

❞𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞❝

Headcanons with my favorite boyssss [ Ace | Kid | Law | Doffy ] Wordcount » 1234 (lol no way... you see it? 1234...) Info » just cute things ;3

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Ace: qmech | Kid: skxviii | Law: oyasumi_mofu | Doffy: Hijiki_DaiXt

𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑔𝑎𝑠 𝐷. 𝐴𝑐𝑒

You both get partner tattoos instead of wedding rings but not something lame like a circle around the ring finger rather something small and personal. You have a little flame on the side of your thigh and he has one on his chest that has something to do with you. Maybe you have a devil fruit or a special weapon? It's up to you :p

You never thought you'd cry at your wedding ceremony because Ace let the most beautiful vows EVER leave his lips. His words were typically Ace and in between your tears he made you laugh. You were almost ashamed when it was your turn because you just wanted to repeat a sentence he once said to you but you changed it a bit… "I'm not interested in living a thousand years, it's enough for me to survive today with you." You spoke. Ace recognized the words immediately and remembered the conversation you shared in the past with a broad grin. He almost yanked you to him and kissed your lips even though the priest hadn't even given his blessing yet. But he doesn't care, he doesn't need the priest's blessings when he has you.

He definitely had his own thoughts about the wedding. For example, he has looked into various traditions… but it seems like he got something wrong… Instead of carrying you bridal style over the doorstep, he carried you all day. As soon as you set foot on the floor to get a new drink, he picked you up in his arms. His statement? "Come on love, when will I have the chance to carry you in your wedding dress again?". Okay that's smooth.

𝐸𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝐾𝑖𝑑

Kid probably would never have proposed to you on his own. You've been together for so long now and every time you've seen a married couple your mood has soured. You were annoyed and also disgusted and one day Killer asked you about it and in the conversation you ironically realized that you also wanted to get married lol… when you were with Kid in his workshop you casually mentioned, that you thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to get married as he was working on one of his new creations. He froze at the word marriage and the next second his machine caught fire because he held the welding rod on it for too long. You both panicked and put out the fire and you realized that he found the topic unpleasant and unnecessary, but you are you and you get everything you want, even if you have to force him! Luckily for you, Killer told you that Kid likes the idea of you committing to him forever, but pshht… otherwise Killer will lose his life.

He will send you away if you want to ask him something about the wedding planning or want his opinion. He'll just tell you that you can do whatever you think is necessary (ugh). You think it's a bit of a shame but you don't mind, you just want him to feel comfortable at his own wedding. After all, it's not just yours. But if it were up to him, he would simply put the ring on your finger and seal your marriage with a big smooch on the lips. But later in the evening you notice that he has circled options he likes or left little notes on your wedding plans and that's when you know you're marrying the right one.

he forges your rings and is quite proud of his work, but secretly nags Killer that he is unsure whether you like the rings. When he saw the sparkle in your eyes and heard your words about how much you love the rings, his heart stopped for a moment only to beat extremely fast. He wanted to marry you right on the spot, but he knows how much love you put into the planning. Happy wife happy life lol.

𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝑎𝑤

A grand wedding with everyone (including the straw hats etc.) is planned, but he has other plans and takes you to the most romantic place to have a wedding ceremony just for the two of you. The party can still take place afterwards with everyone, you are a little social butterfly after all, but the wedding ceremony? That's between you and him <3

Law, similar to Ace, would want partner tattoos instead of real rings but rather in an intimate place where only both of you will see it… if you know what I mean ;) It's safe to say he'll shower your tattoo with kisses everytime when you're getting busy.

He has already seen you (without you knowing it) in your wedding dress. He knew exactly what was going on when you waltzed happily past him with a big package... And even if he hesitated for a moment, he followed you discreetly like a pretty good stalker… He peered through the gap of the door to the room you shared. You were apparently so excited that you hadn't even closed the door. He heard you squealing happily in the bathroom and without really realizing it, he held his breath until you came out of the bathroom. And then you stood there in your beautiful white dress. The feeling in his chest increased rapidly as he watched you twirl in front of the mirror like a princess. Your laughter makes him grin… "I guess she's just as happy as I am that we're getting married..." he thought to himself with a satisfied expression as he let go of the door and walked away. He leaves you a little moment for yourself and your joy, he'll see you walking towards him soon anyway. He is pretty sure that he will never forget that moment. The sight of you walking towards him will be engraved in his brain.

𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑜

You want fireworks that paint your faces in the sky? A thousand white doves that are released when you kiss? A 10 meter high chocolate fountain? A wedding in pink? No problem. Your list is long and you get everything you want. Doflamingo will put together the perfect team to fulfill your every wish. Money doesn't matter, but you do.

You get a ring with a gemstone you've never seen before. Even if you express your doubts that you are afraid of losing this precious ring, Doffy reacts almost insulted. You are the rarest and most valuable gemstone in the world. If you lose the ring, he'll have a new one before you know it.

It's going to be a big big wedding BUT not many people are invited because there's a chance of someone ruining it. Whoever is invited is a big figure or part of the family. Everything is secured but not in an oppressive way. It all plays in the background, because if there were security guards everywhere it would ruin your perfect wedding picture. Nobody is allowed to ruin this day for you and him and if they do, they will pay for it. He also has the wedding broadcast live on TV so that everyone can see that he's marrying the most beautiful woman in the world. How extra.

I hope you enjoyed reading it. See you next time <3

𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒖𝒓𝒊 ♡

#trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law x reader #one piece #headcanon #portgas d ace #ace x reader #eustass kid #eustass x reader #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo x reader #one piece reader #eustass kid x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #portgas d ace x reader #donquixote doflamingo x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader

618 notes · View notes

favoritesoffoodtok · 2 years

Text

Request?

1 note · View note

calisources · 2 months

Text

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences and quotes have been taken from different media about starcrossed lovers or forbidden love, full of angst, some bold words, some nasty ones, possessive nature and letting someone use you as a replacement. So, some toxic energy in this one. Change pronouns, locations and names as you see fit.

I love you,and I will love you until I die,and if there's a life after that,I'll love you then.

Do people always fall in love with things they can't have?

And there is a difference between having your heart break and having your soul shatter.

I'm falling in love with you.

I'm going to fuck the shit out of you. I have waited for this for such a long time. Consequences be damned.

These violent delights have violent ends.

I’m only human. And you are …all-consuming.

Don’t go into this lightly. If you’re mine, you need to understand I will burn the fucking world to the ground for you.

I will never let you go, do you hear me?

will keep you safe. And I will find a way for us to be together.

If you make me cry at my own coronation ball, I’ll never forgive you.

If you were any less the man you are, I would beg you to take me with you.

If you were any less the woman you were, I would beg you to come with me.

I've known lust. This is something worse. This is a barbaric need to possess, to eliminate, to own. This is madness.

This is lust.

She’s your very own forbidden fruit.

You said you didn't want this.

We all desire what we cannot have.

Have you noticed how the boy looks at you?

Do you think I didn’t notice? The way you look at me when you think I’m not watching?

You are dangerous desire, and I am your prisoner.

We can’t do this on so many levels.

I can't even whisper her name, my heart would burst out of my chest.

But I would fight against the stars for you.

I have ruined your life.

Some lines you just don't cross.

I want to take you under the moonlight.

Having something forbidden is exciting, don't you agree?

The closer we get—the more I let you in…the more dangerous this gets.

Don’t you get it? You’re what everyone wants! But I’m not going to let them win.

Make it so I never have to dream about this again—make it so we can have this…forever.

Desires are what can most easily ruin us, lovely.

We were doomed from the start.

Nothing is as deadly as the love of a powerful man.

But this kiss? It's ruined me. This is the type of kiss I never knew existed.

You sure about that, Dad? Because he's done everything to me.

Are you scared of me now?

You loved me - then what right had you to leave me?

I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.

One moment, you give me everything that I want, and in the next, you snatch all of that away.

It's hopeless. We can never work out.

The world didn’t want us together so I forged a new one where we would.

How could a peacock lust for a lion?

You're tattooed onto my skin, and the more I try to erase you, the deeper you sink in.

I’ve always liked you, from the first moment I saw you.

It's absurd how crazy love can make you...but even more absurd how stupid jealousy can make you.

That you and I are meant to be together, but never meant to be.

Why does fate seem always to conspire against us? To deny us life's simple pleasures?

We'll meet after this war. I'll certainly find you wherever you'll hide.

War makes fools of men and women wanton.

What offends you most, Father? That she's Catholic, or that she's poor?

If my father discovers you here, he'd cut off your little nuts and eat them. He can't stand you.

You tempress, I see you once and all I can think of is having you.

Feelings are forbidden, does not mean we cannot enjoy one another.

The more you deny me, the more I desire you. You are a plague in my mind.

Ever since we met, no one else can compare.

How can I be with someone else, when I’m with them, it’s you I see.

You can have me, think of whoever you love. For tonight.

You can pretend I'm her/him. I don't care. I just want you.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #forbidden love #starcrossed lovers

552 notes · View notes

historiaxvanserra · 2 months

Text

All That is Dark Within Me

Pairing: Azriel x Rhys!Sister Reader

Summary: In the wake of Nesta's sacrifice something ancient and long dead awakens, and you with it.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: allusions to sexual assault, and death, grief and longing. lots of dream sequences to keep things extra confusing.

The visions come in flashes of age-worn and the glimmer of Illyrian steel; thinly bladed and lethal, and through the blanket of the dark, the glare of cerulean light pierces the veil of obsidian shadow.

Death came to you as a girl; ravenous and heinous as it feasts upon you. Until all that is left is an assortment of crow-picked bones, interred in some unforgiving blue-darkness, further than Hel. And from that blue-darkness you find breath:

The fetor of decay is thick on your tongue; putrid and so palpable that you can taste it. It lingers there. Festering fruit-flesh in the damp heat and hemlock flowers arch out to kiss the skin that crawls from you. There, in the dark; all maggots and rot in the grave dirt, rebirth calls to you. A hand reaching through the veil of the black.

And you reach back.

The soul; the uneasy ally of the body, nameless as a river, creeps in like the sunlight as it comes back to you with the swiftness of the dawn; golden and ephemeral. It coils itself around you like the ribbons of shadowed sunbeams that come with the first light.

You emerge from your earthly tomb. Arms open. Waiting to become the shadowed ribbons of the firstlight. You are born anew; reaching and aching. Savage and sentimental. Searching for some semblance of touch as you break the surface of the wintry earth. The winter sun dawns over the valley and the earth grieves the loss of you. Sunlight spills onto your body all at once. You are painted in the colors of some celestial body; ichor and carnelian as the heaven-yellow light kisses its way up your spine.

You feel a tremor in the velvet of the earth. You falter with it and a cataclysmic vein of power ripples through the stagnant air; resurrected with you, amongst the dying moonflowers and jasmine, some fallow power.

It wakes from its dormant slumber and rages.

It calls to you.

In fleeting images of age worn bone and a shroud of shadow.

Speaks to you in a language long dead. So old that only the earth itself might infer some meaning from those words whispered on a westward wind. Words so sacred, told in the green tongues of the wilds. It grows in you and festers there. Taking root in your body. A slow, manifesting ache that spreads through you like disease.

Like rot.

The hum of the emerald wilderness lulls you into a misty sense of consciousness as breath comes to you like a bitter memory. That first breath of life burns like cold death as it crawls its brutal way down your throat. The next few tear through you in sporadic succession until you’re choking on the glacial breeze.

The morning air tastes like firewood and fruit flesh as your heart plateaus to a strong, steady rhythm that coaxes movement from you. Unfurling from your fetal position in the dirt you see the world as it once had been; the press of the winter sun into your skin, the draw of the wind as it flutters through the canopy the emerald forest, the darkening horizon and the shadows from the mountain that veil the valley in a misty shroud as the firstlight reigns golden over all.

You crawl from your grave, through the dying jasmine flowers, your fingertips arching and desperate to touch them. To feel the soft velvet of the petals as they give way beneath your trembling fingers. Their descent into decay; a testament to your own rebirth.

It takes a few moments of half-formed joints and muscle coming together to forge you anew but when you stand to your full height you realize that the fleeting remnants of rot and ruin have gone from you.

And in its place; resurrection.

Your girlhood and the innocence of your youth died long ago and what comes back is born wrong. With the knowledge of the ancient darkness from which we are born; and to which we will one day return.

In the distance, through the brush of the fir trees and Illyrian wilderness, a small fire burns golden against the first slivers of morning light, and the dying embers cling desperately to life. Smoky tendrils arch over the tops of the trees guiding you home. You press into the shade of the forest, the thick canopy is dappled in jewel tones; amber, gold, ruby and pale emerald that grant you shelter from the elements as the world turns silent and still.

Feigning peace.

The trees loom ominous overhead, foreboding and resolute, the sounds of the forest having died moments ago. Anxiety weighs heavy on you then, staring out into the dark edges of the forest, you are utterly alone.

You retreat into the darker recess of your mind in the knowledge that, whatever lies beyond, you must face it on your own.

Instinctually, like some archaic muscle memory you bid your wings to come and shield you from the world and the cruel wind. But as old muscles struggle with new life you find that your rebirth is marred with an air of barabarism that bids bile to rise in your throat. You’re brought to your knees in the dirt and a bone-deep sorrow nestles itself deep in the caverns of your chest; finding a home coiled around atrophied muscle and a aching heart.

You’re bereft, and screaming to the deaf stars when you feel the absence of the weight of membranous wings upon your back. The muscles in your back and shoulder blades sear in white-hot agony and trembling fingers trace the brutal scars etched into the skin there. You recoil in disgust and your body feels foreign under your careful hands. Unlike your own-- brutalized and butchered at the hands of the men; consuming and devouring, as they hacked and ravaged the expanse of your body like they had a right to it.

The world blurs at its edges and you remain there until the brush of the forest is cutting and brutal against the soft skin of your calves and thighs. Until you draw blood that falls like rubies at your feet; a testament to your resurrection.

The first of your tears begin to fall with the rain and you feel like the earth, that had held you for so long, is crying with you. Saltwater that purifies you, and your tears fall like moonlight on the Sidra; sparkling and sacred in the dying light of a new day.

As night begins to gather on the darkening horizon you feel exposed out here in the green expanse of the wilds. The temperatures begin to fall as rapidly with the encroaching night and the dying embers of the fire in the distance becomes a blaze in the dark-- a reckoning or a beacon.

You wrap yourself in the scraps of fabric that had shrouded your body in death and you know that you must face the forest and whatever lies within it. For the bitter wind holds you in its icy embrace and so, you press further into the Illyrian wilderness. The journey to the edge of the forest is long and the sounds of men in the distance is your guide to civilization. The forest becomes a dark symphony; the wind as it caresses the leaves of ancient oak trees and the rustling of the forest floor underfoot, it’s a cacophony of sensation that threatens to envelop you, beneath the leaves and fir trees, to lose yourself in its vastness until darkness descends upon you once more.

By the time you reach the edge of the forest you are close enough that, from your vantage point on the embankment, you can see the orange flames from the campfires as they climb high above the younger trees, the cinders rain down violently on the warriors camped below. These mountains always did have an austere beauty that called to you. Even then. Even as a girl, green and foolhardy with dreams of a life spent following your brothers and Azriel across continents. As a courtier in some distant land where the women were warrior-strong and softly beautiful. Somewhere Ramiel’s long, ghostly shadows could not reach you.

You never did outrun the shadows of the mountain that flanks the valley, you think as a shroud of darkness from the looming monolith blankets the world in a false twilight.

Burrowing down further into the valley of the embankment you find shelter nestled between a felled tree and the jagged moss-covered stone. You find comfort in the heady musky of fir and pine, and soaked to the skin by the morning mildew and blossoming bluebells. There in the valley, the hours pass strangely, against the backdrop of the desolate night, with only the songs of the forest and the sound of the warriors below in the distance to guide you into dreamless sleep.

The hum of the camp behind you lulls you into a sense of misty wakefulness, and every now and then you feel a tremor in the ground, a recollection of the darkness you had left behind. In these fleeting moments you wait beneath some strom-streaked cloud. A heavy velvet darkness descends upon the sky, extinguishing everything in its wake as you acquiesce to dreaming:

Death comes back to me veiled in shadow and flashes of age worn bone as it stakes its claim to me again.

The shadow of the mountain looms like some ill-fated omen over the valley and a red star bleeds into the twilight, casting Ramiel in a bloody halo. The mountain seems to tremble in your wake and the whispers of the Old Gods call your name like a prayer.

A great onyx monolith glitters in the amethyst moonglow and a vein of power hums on the westward wind. You reach out a hand to touch it and the world falls away from you again.Then there is a temple; carved into the stone of the mountain, a great antechamber, shaded in the musk of hemlock and incense as you pass between the sandstone pillars. The pillars themselves are shrouded in climbing ivy and blooming moonflowers that conceal the frescos on the walls.

You can vaguely make out the apparition of a man, cloaked in death. He wears it as some ancient King might. Proud, beautiful and lethal. His great dark wings spread across the landscape and the fae of old in the crowds kneel to him in reverence.

The onyx stalactites become entangled in the light that bleeds from the surface and you come to a stop at the foot of the altar when that myriad of dancing light falls onto you.

You are golden light, refracted and broken divinity-- the memory of some undying Goddess in the pale light.

Unearthly and ephemeral.

The emerald dias is littered with the remnants of the offerings left to a dying God; wilted jasmine and orchids, silver coins, minted with the faces of an ancient king, amphora’s of faerie wine. You sink to your knees at the foot of the altar and you swear you feel the whispers of the dead once more.

You run a fine-boned hand over the collection of offering laid in revereven, made in earnest.

That is when you notice the gleam of thinly drawn steel amongst the dying jasmine. Veiled in the shadows of the mountain; a bloody scythe. The hilt and pommel feel like cool marble in your hand as you raise it to the light that bleeds from the surface. The blade itself is coated crimson and rust and the ferrous smell of blood hangs heavy in the air.

Only false idols are worshiped in flowers and wine alone, you think.

True divinity requires sacrifice.

Out of the devastating darkness steps a figure; shaded in wretched shadows and a devouring black mass as he approaches the dias. As he steps to the altar all the sconces are afire with bluelight; sapphire and cerulean as his robe falls to reveal him in all his divine glory.

The saints whisper my name and his figure, wreathed in shadow and light materializes before you.

Tangible flesh and winged death.

Plumes of incense smoke, like salted-seafoam rise in the mountain air and the flickering blue flame douses me in its seraphic light. Like Venus born from the Kytherian sea. Or perhaps Persephone born again from the dark smoke of Hades.

Plumes of incense smoke, like salted-seafoam rise in the mountain air and the flickering blue flame douses you in its seraphic light. A priestess robed in pomegranate red, with milky, alabaster eyes rises steps from the smoke. The priestess looks like the apparition of a dark celestial body as she intones a mass and the thread that runs between your body and his grows taut, aching and agonizing as it burns through you like the first light.

“The thread of fate is severed and another is forged;

from my power I bestow power upon you,

and from my life-- life.”

The priestess chants and he touches you softly.

Your chest is tight and your muscles cannot be compelled to move. Your body is not your own and all autonomy is stripped from you as that thread that runs from your body to his glows pulsating, liquid gold.

“Stop,” Your voice is hoarse and strained, it echoes around the antechamber until his growl smothers all sound “please stop.” His touch grows cold against your skin and his grip on your arm is a bruising force. Bone crushing and cruel as he brings you harshly to your knees before him.

“Is it done?” His voice is harsh and laden with dark malice as he turns his piercing and deadly gaze upon the Priestess.

She eyes him and nods adamantly, “It is done, Lord.”

She leaves a trail of smoke and ash in her wake as she turns to dust and bone before your eyes. Terror fills you and your heart flutters wildly in your chest as he turns his cold gaze upon you once more.

Death takes your jaw roughly in his grasp, tilting your chin to look him in the eyes. Deep and reckoning, a twilight abyss so black that time and space itself falls away when you’re caught in the depths of his dark gaze. He runs a callous thumb over the sulk of your lip and the wet-heat of your tears fall at his feet.

“Oh, my love,” He coos menacingly, his voice a vacant echo as it ricochets around the chasm of the temple “resurrected from the grave dirt.”

It is a claiming; a devouring as he brings his cold lips to yours.

“To be brutal and mine.”

His words, like a sacred vow, are branded into your skin. There, between the valley of your breasts over your violent heart, in inky lines that same scythe-- age worn bone and blood.

An offering to an Old God. A holy sacrifice, you think as he runs a pointed finger over the hollow of your throat. His skin feels icy cold as he wraps those same fingers around you, pressing against the pulse point with practiced ease. This is it, you think. Death comes to you as an old friend. A darkness so deep that there is nothing before it and nothing beyond it.

But- a thread of light; blinding and golden against the black.

Suddenly Death’s face falters and a smirk spreads across his beautiful pale face when he feels the violent flutter of your heart in the cavern of your heaving chest. Death raises his scythe; a gleam of shadow and age-worn bone as he prepares to give you up in offering-- like a lamb led to the slaughter.

You will not return to the dark.

You are no sacrificial lamb; you are the shadow of a Goddess long forgotten and you will not bend to lesser men.

Nor submit to the will of some ill-fated deity.

You writhe in his hold; poised and ready all the while under the surface some raw divine power, like the light of a bleeding sun, pours out of you. It burns golden and sun-blushed as it spreads through you.

Wilful and ignorant in the face of his wrath you reach for that golden thread.

In a cataclysmic union of the dark and light, death is thrown down against the emerald dias. Brought to his knees before you. The amphora’s and trinkets laid in offering are strewn across the room in the fray and the merlot stains the marble wine red.

“Do not presume to touch me again” Your voice frantic and fragile echoes around the empty chamber and the ghost of his touch on your body makes your skin crawl.

The laugh that you tear from him is like death itself, cold and malignant as he turns his darkness upon you now. His shadows snake their way along the expanse of your limbs as you stumble backwards down the aisle. They curl into you, seeking out the light that bleeds from your skin in bursts of starlight and moonglow.

‘Death-touched girl’, they whisper to you. ‘Lovely bride, you belong to me’.

The temple trembles with a new wave of devastating force.

The mountain quakes and the world falls down around you; The climbing ivy is torn from the ancient and decaying fresco’s and the sandstone pillars give way, sinking and succumbing to Death’s cold wrath, like the trees that bend to the wind. Onyx stalactites fall like tangible night and pierce the earth, creating a cavern so great and so deep that you think it might be the opening to Hel itself.

A helmouth.

Looking down into that cavern. A deep blue-darkness that swallows everything in its wake. The jaws of Death open, awning and screaming as the temple is brought to its knees before you. Beyond the desecrated temple the Illyrian wilderness waits for you. Ramiel casts its long shadows over the valley and from the canopy of the emerald forest you hear a man screaming into the dark.

With only the light of a blood moon to guide you, you retreat into the twilight.

Your legs start moving before your mind has time to process it. So you run. You run. Until your heart is thunderous in your chest and each breath that is torn from you hurts. Still, you run.

Death’s voice whispers on the wind as it howls at a waning moon.

“You know me well, girl.” He says to you, his figure in the treeline like some voyeuristic ghost, “As I know you.”

Your calves burn but you push on, through the thicket and into a clearing. The moon wanes terrible and red at its peak in the night sky and you scream to the deaf stars. Crying for a God who had known your name once.

Only the Gods do not answer.

“Azriel.” You cry his name until your voice is hoarse. But he too does not answer the call.

Death-kissed shadows brush through the trees, appearing again at the edge of the clearing. There he stands, the perfect embodiment of a cruel God. Mercurial and furious as his dark wings spread across the expanse of his back.

Death is a beautiful creature.

His voice again cuts through the dark as you sink to your knees in the clearing, “I was there, waiting in the dark when you spilled your first blood.”

He stalks towards you and you scramble to your feet in some desperate attempt to evade him. He is shadow personified and dark eyes turn hazel and amber in the silver light of the moon.

“I am here with you now,” Death curls a shadow in his hand and smiles at you.

“as you run from me still.” He takes a step forward, cradling your jaw in his strong hand again. His thumb trails the line of your cheek.

The sound of a restless lake rings like birdsong in the air and you see the orange flames as they streak across the sky; a firebird as she soars over the shadow of the moon.

“You know my name.” He adds, half-amused as he brings his lips to meet yours in a cold, chaste kiss.

“Say it.” He commands.

You do not answer.

“Say.It.” Death spits venom through gritted teeth and you laugh as light floods the twilight forest.

“Azriel.” His name falls from your lips like some holy vow as light becomes you.

#acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic

409 notes · View notes