Tumgik
#his rose is one of hers. the crown is the shape his horn would be.
terra-tortoise · 6 months
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fully going ham with these beasts meet harte and lin theyre not registered yet and idk if they yellow is acceptable but theyre wormed into my brain (art linework from the subspecies thread, linked in both their bios)
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angies-writing-blog · 5 months
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A Devil's Grief (Raphael x Tav)
Ao3 Link
Carelessness on Raphael's part had cost him the precious little mouse her life.
Rushing towards the open attack of the enemy army with an extraordinary spirit of sacrifice.
Giving her companions enough time to build up their defences
... but also to save Raphael from certain destruction.
No quick and peaceful death was granted for her.
Repentance for her sin still had to be done by the little mouse.
According to the gods, this consisted of not even falling into his arms,
pierced by enemy weapons, barely able to make a move and succumbing to elemental forces.
Pulling her into his arms, all soaked in blood, she was incapable of words
...because of the arrow stuck in her throat.
Neither poisoned nor enchanted, it had hit with critical success.
Pale around the nose, his little mouse had always been, but the increasingly grey tone was alarming.
And the cyanotic glow around her lips revealed that her body was no longer able to maintain vital functions.
Shallow and infrequent breaths emerged, struggling for air at times.
Dilated pupils stared at him without focussing on anything in particular.
Raphael had only ever seen the glow of the universe in her eyes, never intimidation or fear.
In denial, Raphael raised his voice, assuring her that everything would be all right.
But the expression she met him with revealed that she was enveloped in a silence that, like a sudden and impenetrable fog, stole the outline of all words.
Turning all her attention to his lips, she focussed on the shapes, not understanding a whisper.
Speaking softly, Raphael returned her gaze to his.
Uttering three words clearly, which she understood in time before the pulsating world, spinning in circles, picked up speed and darkness finally engulfed her.
Preventing the little mouse from acknowledging all his feelings.
Standing still, all of a sudden, both her companions, who had fallen into a state of shock, and their outnumbered enemies.
No longer possessed Raphael's voice a mortal sound, even the stars trembled at the infernal cry.
Never before had even one soul seen tears forming in the devil's eyes, pooling like in front of a dam whose wall showed an unimaginable vulnerability and finally broke when it was least expected.
During this war of hells, fought on earthly ground.
Slowly, the door to Raphael's inner world opened.
Knowing all the tears in the world would not bring back her life.
Many things now made sense for his little mouse's companions.
Love was what the devil felt for this small and fragile human child.
Nobody had noticed it all this time;
neither had anyone recognised the little crushes they had on each other nor noticed the obvious desire for closeness.
Crumbling cracks of restraint formed in the salty spray along his cheeks.
And the otherwise imperturbable façade was pervaded by an expression of unease. 
For the first time, the dark clouds inside Raphael gained the upper hand. Roaring tempest unstoppable.
Engulfed by invisible flames, his prominent facial features were distorted into something demonic
...something never seen before.
Leathery, shimmering wings erupted from his back, their span expanding, bearing the burden of all cosmic grief.
Fiery glow enveloped his body while the ground shook beneath his clawed feet.
Nature itself seemed to mourn the passing of this life.
Crown-like horns extended menacingly towards the sky, manifesting an eldritch power never seen before.
"Now I understand, why she always referred to him as a fallen angel and never called him a devil", Astarion confessed.
Powerless, he watched as Raphael rose in demonic form, carrying the seemingly lifeless body tightly pressed against him.
"This war is about to end, isn't it?"
Karlach tried to organise what had just happened, retreating together with her comrades.
Shaking his head and turning away from the tragedy, Astarion replied:
"No. The war was already over when the fading of her life turned his flaming heart to ice."
Loud rumbling sounded...
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loststarphounix · 5 months
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Soudam Dragon!Kazuichi AU
Kazuichi is a Dragon (metal/fire hybrid) tasked with guarding the Grand Duchess Sonia. Crowned Princess Chiaki, Sonia’s girlfriend, sends her best friend and knight Hajime on a quest to rescue Sonia from the dragon.
Hajime is at first hesitant to go out and fight a dragon - he could die Chiaki!- but she promises to help hook him up with the neighboring kingdom’s Prince Nagito and Hajime reluctantly agrees.
Along the way he encounters Fuyuhiko - a rogue with past ties to one of the most dangerous underground clans in the Kingdom, his ‘protector’ Lady Peko, who’s swordsmanship is unmatch and Gundham Tanaka, a supposed Dark Mage who hasn’t undertaken the final ritual to be recognized as such but is still very powerful.
The four band together and venture to the Keep where the Duchess is being held captive. As they search the first floor of the castle, they try to form a plan on how to handle the dragon, when Kazuichi in full dragon form comes upon them. They decide to just go for it and try to attack, but their blows are useless and Kazuichi chases them around the castle. The group is split up and Hajime and Gundham are cornered.
Just before the horrible beast can open its mouth and devours them, Gundham suddenly calls out: 
“What a magnificent specimen!”
Hajime is just staring at him because now is not the time to fawn over an animal Tanaka! This isn’t the first time this idiot almost got him and the others killed or maimed over his fondness for animals. But he notices how the dragon is now staring at them in what seems like confounded surprise and he can only watch as the Mage steps forward unafraid. It seems to confuse the dragon even more, as it backs away skittishly.
“Your coloring is simply astounding! Duskrose coupled with nightshade black, but reflects brilliant diamonds of soft pinks and purples. How marvelous!”
“Your wings are stupendous! The horns upon your head shine like polished obsidian!”
“Your claws are a true testament of your endurance, for few beasts I have encountered have such wicked talons that can spark wildfires effortlessly!”
“Such a fine specimen of the more fairer draconic breed! It is rare to see such a damsel all alone. Such magnificent brilliance!”
And through all of this, the dragon is swaying - fluttering its wings, stretching its neck and tossing its head. But there is a deepening color of the flesh of its throat and Hajime fears its preparing to breath fire on them, but Gundham continues to talk and is now close to said flint like claw. It’s about twice as long as he was.
“But a damsel so young shouldn’t be in such dreary conditions but free to rule the skies!”
Now the dragon lowers its head towards him and Hajime nearly faints as a half lidded large eye stares the taller man down. It’s lid flutters and Hajime frowns because he gets the distinct impression that it just -
“Such brilliance!” The Mage exclaims again, staring deeply into the larger eye. “A gemstone would crack and weep when faced with your illustrious gaze! Such beautiful rose quartz the likes this realm could never duplicate -”
That’s when the dragon lets out what sounds like a coo - an honest to god, fucking coo-, bats its eyelashes at him, before it puffs a bit of smoke so that it envelopes around Gundham in the suspicious shape of a heart.
Hajime immediately panics. And so does Gundham because now he’s stuttering, blushing, as he slowly tries to back away while trying to cover his face. It's no use because the dragon just slowly inches forward every time he takes a step back and is letting out a low rumble.
“I-It appears that - There seems to have been a miscommunication -!”
Is all he gets out, before he is then gingerly grabbed by the front of his shirt and lifted off the ground. He’s ragdolled in the air by the dragon, who happily purrs as he turns and stomps away with his prize. The Mage seems shocked at the now obvious turn of events and Hajime just dips. He’ll save the Mage later.
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Jakkon used to Sing for Eveny. He had a good voice. An amazing voice actually. He used to play the flute and weave flower crowns out of tulips from the garden. He used to hang them on his horns and call himself a Fae as well.
He used to wear bright colors and cook breakfast every morning. He used to carry everything for Rose and Eveny, make little statues out of random trinkets, and find stupid little shapes in the clouds.
He used to laugh, to smile. He used to call Rose stupid little names to annoy her.
But he didn't do any of those things anymore. He never smiled. Never laughed. He hadn't touched a flower in years unless it was a gift, and he couldn't sing anymore.
He'd tried once, to cheer up Rose on a bad day. But the smoke from the fire that had killed Eveny, hadn't just taken her and his home. It had taken his voice, made it lower, quieter, and much hoarser than it used to be.
Now all he could do was watch the clouds. But he couldn't do it alone. It seemed the fire had burned away his imagination too.
He didn't do anything anymore.
Nothing but drink his memories away when he knew he would only hurt himself. Nothing but work himself half to death. Nothing but cry when he thought no one was listening.
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an-eldritch-peredhel · 11 months
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Sky Shinies, V2
For @aspecardaweek Day 3: Across the A-spectrum, I decided to redraw the second piece of Tolkien fanart I ever posted, two years ago for this very event! Check back in 2025 to see if I keep up the pattern.
Since Ainur are basically angels I've decided they're all pretty much ace (with varying degrees of interest- Melian) and arospec if only because they don't conceptualize relationships in the same way we do, and the majority of elves are demi/grayspec.
Arien: Sapphic oriented aroace, recipromantic
Earendil: Bi demi-rose
Tilion: Achillean oriented aroace, lithoromantic, aroflux
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[id. A full-body pencil drawing of Arien, Earendil, and Tilion. Arien is inspired by a lion, with digitigrade legs, paw pads, and claws. She has a crown of horns and fire burning on her head, limbs, and the tip of her tail. Tilion has bat ears and feet with a leaf-shaped nose, horns curling around his ears and another set twisting upwards, and dark blotches on his skin. Their arms are linked as they shoot finger guns. Earendil stands in front of them, head barely reaching their elbows as he waves with one hand and holds a telescope in the other. He's black, with braids pulled back in a ponytail and a small beard. The silmaril shines from a circlet on his forehead, and he wears Ancalagon's skin as an armored vest and skirting. end id.]
Rambles, comparison, and closeups under the cut!
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[id. Three closeups on Arien, Earendil, and Tilion's faces respectively to show details. Arien has freckles and her eyes appear to be glowing behind her sunglasses, Earendil has eyebags, faint laugh lines, and scars, as well as individually lined scales on his vest, and Tilion has fangs, earrings. and diamond-shaped pupils with black sclerae. end id.]
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[id: a comparison of the full drawing above to the original, which ends around Earendil's knees but otherwise has near-identical composition. Arien looks significantly more human, Tilion is missing his horns, and Earendil is white with a less structured outfit. end id.]
I was mostly going off of memory redrawing this, which is why their poses are slightly different but honestly I prefer this even if it isn't strictly accurate. Winner for biggest design overhaul is a tie between Arien and Earendil, because excluding Tilion's horns (which I would have originally included if I had remembered Tilion literally means "horned one") he's hardly changed, though tragically I took away some of his jewelry for practicality.
Past!Earendil's unintentional Michael Jackson nose haunts me, though I do kinda miss his stupid wave hair. I'm much happier with his dragonscale vest thingy now (though I realized too late that Ancalagon's scales would be much larger, oh well), I've had time to think through the various elven cultural aesthetics and I'm very pleased with his multi-combo of cultures that still gives him the vibes I wanted. Stupid pointy-toed noldorin boots are so hard to draw right but I love them so much
Arien has also been overhauled but given that they change how humanoid their fana looks depending on if they're hanging around incarnates or not the original is still technically close to that form? Horn crown and significantly more fire has been added in homage to her balrog siblings alongside everything else, but like Tilion her outfit change is minimal and the vibes stay the same.
Unrelated but a funny side note: as I have become increasingly aware of Pokemon Knowledge, I have realized that Solgaleo and Lunala unintentionally map really really well onto my Arien and Tilion. Yes this is because lion/day/sun | bat/night/moon symbolism is obvious, but I'm leaning into it. Earendil works shockingly well as Ultra Necrozma, too.
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eldritch-araneae · 2 years
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Sparkpulse: Arrow of Time, Part 1.
First | Next ->
Relationships: Bumblebee & Windblade, Bumblebee & Sari Sumdac, Bumblebee & Spike Witwicky, Bumblebee & Rubble.
Characters: Bumblebee, Windblade, Rubble, Sari Sumdac, Spike Witwicky, Quake, Unicron, Shazraella and many more!
Warnings: Major Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Animal Death in chapter 2.
Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff, Action, Science Fantasy, Slice of Life, Eldritch Horrors, Spacetime Shenanigans, Bittersweet yet Hopeful Ending.
Summary: The end of everything is approaching. The cosmos is contracting into the singularity and nothing can’t stop it - The Big Crunch. Only two of them remain, Bumblebee and Windblade. As they watch the space getting smaller, warmer, and brighter, they dive into the memory lane. They lived a long life, that was filled with joyous moments, horrible events, pits of despair and glimpses of hope. They've seen it all, but was this life fulfilling?
Note: This four-part story is a compilation of ideas that won’t go into Sparkpulse major story, but I want to explore them, anyway. I know it’s set after it and will have some spoilers, but eh, we all know that matters not destination, but a journey :3 I hope you’ll enjoy the story ~ Reblogs and comments are very appreciated~
The cosmos were once a big and cold place. The distances between stars used to be immense. Each civilization cried out into emptiness, asking ‘Is someone there?’. No one could answer and fully comprehend its scale and loneliness. Even after mastering the art of bending spacetime, the dark ocean of stars still gave a false impression that it was going to last forever.
Nothing stays static. If all motion in the Universe would cease, the arrow of time would fly forward with the speed of light, taking everything with it. Change after change, transforming existence little by little, until the behavior of the very quantum foam has altered.
Now galaxies, stars, and planets are getting closer to each other instead of drifting apart. It gets warmer and brighter as it shrinks. Soon, in a couple of million years, space will turn white, and even the hottest stars will boil away.
A black spaceship, shaped like a horseshoe crab, exits from the hyperspace jump. It’s old and worn. There are many patches and welds on the hull; the ship was repaired countless times. Despite this, it’s in good condition, thanks to the care of its pilots - Life Wardens on the mission.
“We’re here, Bumblebee. Is this the last sector?” asks the taller mech, sitting on the right side of the cockpit.
Her body is red, with bits of black, silver, gold, and white. The helm looks like a crown, while her large manta-ray wings rest on her shoulders, creating an illusion of a cloak. The body is supported by a synthetic plant, especially around her face. Left half is covered in rose-like blue flowers. The beast’s head is secured on her chest, decorated with golden antlers and blue fins. Her optic is lilac with light blue pupils.
The Universe knows her as the Camien Sea Dragon.
“Yep. I sense the last life forms left in the Universe. After we’re done, I think we should find a nice place to rest. What do you think, Windblade?” the smaller on the left mech replies.
His plating is yellow and black, with parts of silver, orange and blue. His optics are light blue. Like his companion, his wings are resting on his shoulders, forming a wing-cape in his root-mode. They are blue and insect-like with five digits. Just like her, his beast head is on his chest, and his body is also wrapped in synthetic plants in some places. But unlike her, he has four arms. His head is crowned with two little horns and a pair of antennae. His spark energy is keeping them both alive.
Like his Amica Endura, he’s also a dragon. The Eldritch Dragon is the most benevolent and terrifying being in the Universe.
“Sounds great!” Windblade says, looking out in the window with a gentle smile. “The Universe looks beautiful for its last moments. Many people would kill just to see so many galaxies up close with the naked eye.”
“Even if it’s deadly!” Bumblebee laughs. “I can’t blame them. I imagined the Big Crunch to go in many ways, but the real thing surpassed my expectations. Though one thing I didn’t expect is how the Well would react.”
“The song.” She nods, feeling its soft hum inside her spark. It beckons. Bumblebee rubs gently his chest and leans on the back of the seat, looking into the distance.
“It calls for every living being. Each spark must return to the Well before the Universe contracts into a singularity. No new lifeform would be born and I don’t see a point in creating life either. We are reaching the very end, and it’s time for everything to die.” Bumblebee says in a bittersweet tone. Still, a smile forms on his face. “Which isn’t as scary as I thought.”
“Well… almost. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be traveling from sector to sector and helping people to embrace death and pass away. Are you still planning to be the last one?”
“Yes, I wanna make sure everyone makes it to the Well before passing away myself… which is so weird how I can just do it easily!”
Windblade snorts. “Right, for Mister ‘Immortal Eldritch Beast’, it sure is perplexing!”
Bumblebee giggles in response. There is nothing else he can say to the absolute truth. ”Alright, let’s get going and finish this!”
This is what they’ve been doing for the last several million years. Searching for remaining people who are still alive and helping them move on. Death is a strange subject, some fear it, some welcome it. Some people hold on because they want to meet Life Wardens in person, and soon the reputation has spread around.
People would gather in the last cities, waiting for Life Wardens to come and throw the biggest party at the end of the Universe, celebrating life and death.
------
A few centuries have passed before the last living being died; only two Life Wardens remain. As they planned, they arrived at the center of the Universe. Surrounded by the colorful light of contracting spacetime, they found a crystallized asteroid orbiting around a black dwarf. They landed their spaceship, and protected by Bumblebee’s spark energy, stepped outside.
“So, only two of us left, huh?” Windblade says as she looks up. “Now the space feels really empty and it’s kinda sad.”
“Death is always a sad sight, even if it’s natural and necessary.” Bumblebee holds her hand gently. “Deep down, I knew I would live that long to see the end. Despite that, it’s such a weird feeling.”
“I never thought I’ll make it that far, but I did my best!” she says with pride.
“You did amazing, and I’m forever grateful! The Universe would be colder without you.” Bumblebee embraces her tightly. “Now I just wanna cuddle until we die.”
“There are, like, a few more million years left before everything collapses. This is going to be the longest cuddle in history!” she snorts.
“The entirety of space will start boiling before it. It’s pretty warm right now already.” He says as he places a finger under his chin, thinking. “Technically, I can protect us from the furnace and we can cuddle longer…”
“On the other hand, I’m not sure I wanna find out what it’ll feel like when we all get squished.” Windblade looks down at him skeptically, but the next second her face lights up. “Though this is also gonna be the tightest embrace in history! Two records in one!”
“Two records right at the end when no one can challenge them!” Bumblebee says, and both burst into laughter. But suddenly he realized another detail. “Wait, but everything will contract into the huge black hole and we’re gonna fall into it!”
“Oh… so we’re gonna feel like we’re cuddling forever after we cross the event horizon and our bodies will be stretched into spaghetti…”
“A timeless noodle cuddle stretching into infinity… now I’m hungry!”
Now Life Wardens are laughing harder. They hold on to each other, but even the low gravity of the asteroid didn’t help them stay upright. They fall onto the crystalline ground, still dying from laughter. After they stay in silence, until Bumblebee breaks the silence.
“Remember how we first met?”
“A mysterious voice from the other side of existence.” She smiles nostalgically. “It’s hard to forget, even after living so long.”
“And you brought me back. I was so scared back then, but it was the start of a new life. It was filled with so much good… and bad, but mostly good, I think.”
“What if we will go down memory lane?” her optics light up as she sits up. “We’ve seen it all, so it’ll be fun to remember old times and all the shenanigans we got ourselves into!”
“That’s a perfect thing to do before death! We need to find a comfortable place… back to the ship or?” Bumblebee sits up and looks around and points to the left. “Or this rock formation?”
“At the end of everything, even rocks are comfortable, I see.” Windblade snickers, making Bumblebee laugh again.
“Hey! I have pillows and blankets with me!” Bumblebee protests dramatically, making his amica laugh. He stands up and offers one of his four hands to Windblade to follow.
They spend almost an hour making a comfortable nest within the rock formation, with a splendid view of the sky. They settle down, cuddling into each other. Since Windblade is bigger, she engulfs him in a hug. Content with comfort and each other’s warmth, they drift into a slumber, waking up in Bumblebee’s mindscape.
The mindscape looks like an ocean, surrounded by floating sparks from a reflection of the Well above, and his memory cells. Windblade opens a door to her mindscape, mixing them together. Constellations and coral platforms appear, in addition to her memory cells.
“Shall we?” Windblade motions towards a memory cell. Bumblebee nods and both begin focusing on the earliest memories. Living such a long life makes it difficult. The processor has its limits, and most of their memories were archived as life goes on. They still can recall them, just the process takes a bit of time.
Memories about his creation and his purpose, the fall of Cybertron and his imprisonment, his friends and his loved dearly who perished tragically, and later Windblade saving him. Going to Earth, making new friends, making countless connections with many humans across the globe, fighting against the rich, and achieving equality, peace, and sustainability. Windblade and others encouraged him to return to his role once more, opening a new big chapter in life.
------
A memory shows pre-cybertformed Mars. The red barren desert scattering as far as eyes can see. A spaceship lands in Argyre Planitia. Doors open, and Bumblebee steps outside, followed by Windblade, Starscream, Optimus Prime, and a few more mechs. There are several humans, including Spike, Daniel, and Sari, following them in the spacesuits. Slamdance is taking a position with a good view and begins their reporting to the audience on Earth.
Bumblebee doesn’t pay attention much, though he’s not sure he wants to be recorded. He walks away for a few hundred meters, while the rest stay near the ship. He needs space to work with. A commlink activates, connecting him with his friends.
“How are you?” Sari asks, knowing he’s anxious. “I’m sure you got this!”
“I hope so. It’s been a long while since I did something like this.” He laughs awkwardly. Good thing he’s in the distance for everyone else to hear it. “Though it’s the first time I’m trying to reanimate a perished Planet Titan.”
“If something won’t work, we’ll just pause and figure this out.” Windblade says, reminding that failure is not an end.
“And Slamdance will keep entertaining everyone back on Earth.” Spike adds. “I gave them enough space material to work with.”
“You got this, Uncle!” Daniel cheers. “I’m sure this will go smoothly!”
“MAKE THIS ROCK MOVE, YOU HEAR ME?!” Starscream, once again living up to his name, yells across the distance off the commlink, making everyone flinch or jump in place. Poor Slamdance fell from the rock off the camera. Even a thin Martian atmosphere cannot save everyone from his vocal box. People on Earth gonna have a little surprise in five minutes.
Bumblebee laughs and turns back to see the group. Despite the commotion and the stream, he’s glad others came. It feels nice to not be alone. He turns back and closes his optics. He stands still, focusing on the task ahead, only the wind occasionally moving his wingcape and antennae.
He struggles to remember the procedure for a few minutes until he relaxes and starts humming. At first, he sounds normal, but then the hum becomes something entirely different. His voice goes higher and soon it morphs into an utterly alien waving sound that no creature is capable of replicating.
A huge spark, so big it can fit a human megalopolis inside, appears out of thin air and hovers above the Eldritch Dragon. It responds to him with the same frequency as he, making as if it’s communicating. Then he activates a golden interface, floating around him. He opens his optics to type several commands. He outstretches his right upper hand towards the huge spark while using the other three hands typing. Thin threads are shooting from the fingertips of the outstretched hand, slowly enveloping the spark like a shell.
Once finished, he activates the execution of the code he has just written, and a cell forms around the spark. It’s not complicated because Bumblebee prefers randomness to drive the evolution instead of controlling each course. Satisfied with the look of the cell, with a swift motion of the same right upper hand, he sends it down. It phases through the soil and disappears.
Bumblebee transforms into a dragon and takes off into the sky. It’s hard to fly in a thorough, thin atmosphere, but he quickly reaches the spaceship, which engines have been activated.
“Get inside!” Bumblebee shouts. “We must get out before the cell reaches the planet’s core!”
Without panic or hesitation, the group boards the ship immediately. It takes off and speeds towards space, leaving the red surface behind. Once they reach a safe distance, the ship stabilizes in Mars’ orbit. All looks are directed at the planet. Slamdance in the background explains to the viewers what is happening.
“Do you feel it?” Windblade asks.
“Yes. The cell rapidly descends to the core as I planned.” Bumblebee replies as his antennae flickers. No one said anything else, save for Slamdance chatter. Suddenly, a massive crack appears on Mars’ equator.
“Woah!” almost everyone on board exclaimed at the same time. The crack spreads swiftly, as viewers can only imagine the sheer magnitude of the marsquake it causes. Crust splits into different pieces and the planet slowly unfolds. The head and prolonged body with multiple libs are visible. Like a huge shrimp, but more eldritch looking. It opens its ten amber-colored eyes and looked directly at the ship. Everyone froze in awe, even Slamdance lost their words.
Bumblebee feels the titan staring into his spark, and feeling how words are forming at the back of his mind that only he can hear and understand.
‘Hello.’ They said.
Bumblebee’s optics widen, not expecting the contact so soon. He stares back at the titan before he focused deeply on his own spark to reply.
‘Hello and welcome to the world. Do you know where you are?’
The titan looks around, spotting the Sun in the distance. ‘Near a lonely yellow dwarf star. Can I stay? Or I have to travel?’
‘You can stay, that’s why I called you. To revive this planet.’
‘Was it a titan too? Did they die?’ they asked anxiously. Planet Titans are born plenty, but the majority die in planet formation. This happened to Mars and Venus. Out of three titans who arrived here, Earth is the only one who survived.
‘Yes… but this time it will be different. I’ll keep you alive as you transform.’
‘Ah, I’m grateful for your aid.’
Bumblebee turns to the group. “Everything is going according to plan. I’m going out.”
Once he exists in open space, he protects himself with his energy and flies to the titan, making him fully comprehend the size. Bumblebee is just a tiny speck compared to them.
‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes.’
As they form a new sphere, Bumblebee concentrates a huge amount of energy from his spark and directs it to the titan, making sure their spark won’t fail.
The more the process goes on, the more pain he’s feeling in his chest. This energy gives life, but his body cannot sustain such large quantities of coursing through. His spark is pulsing fast and arrhythmically, and the lack of air in space makes it harder as he can’t breathe to cool himself.
He’s on the brink of fainting.
Suddenly, his technorganic symbiotic plant pushes the excessive energy out of him in a form of black resin that evaporates into energy particles. There is so much resin it covers him entirely, but it keeps him from fainting during the important moment. He kept the energy going until the entire process was complete.
New Mars is formed, with new surface relief, water, a thicker atmosphere, and the most important - the magnetic field. There is a lot of work to be done to make this planet a perfect home for cybertronians, but the most important step has been done.
Bumblebee feels weak and disoriented, but satisfied. He glances down at the planet to see they’re alive and well. He would admire his work and talk to the titan, but this feat overloaded his body too much. Sensing Windblade coming for him, he allowed himself to slip into nothingness. He will sleep for three days after this and spend a few months recovering before he could repeat the same for Venus, making the new age for humans and cybertronians.
The Age of Solarians.
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Bumblebee comes home after a long day of work. The world tree of Mars, growing in the middle of an ecological sanctuary which humans lovingly named Yggdrasil, is a perfect place for him and his family to live. He carefully examines the tree to make sure its growth is going nicely. Satisfied, he goes inside.
It looks like a large house interior on the inside, with many rooms and enough space for each person living here: he still shares his room with Windblade, while Sari has her own. Several guest rooms are connected by a wooden corridor. There is a kitchen on the left, and the bathrooms aren’t far behind. The main room is large. This is where they gather and chill in a huge pillow mound or throw parties.
Bumblebee senses a wave of frustration coming from below, from workshops. It was Sari, and he quickly went down to see if she needs help. She’s sitting by the table, tools are scattered while she’s fuming!
“Sari?” he cautiously called her as he walks over and kneels beside her. “What happened? Do you need help?”
Sari looks at him and bursts into caught. Now he’s picking up a mix of light frustration and amusement. After she caught a breath, she turns to him. “Okay, okay, listen!” she says as she holds her left palm in front of him. “Do you see anything strange?”
Bumblebee carefully inspects her hand. It looks normal, except… “Five fingers?”
“YES!” she throws her hands in the air, then she pinches the pinkie on her left hand, glaring at it. “I can’t BELIEVE I forgot this crucial detail when I was recreating this technorganic body! I lived all my life without this damn pinkie and I was fine. Now I can’t even use some of my tools because I literally have no space to place this damn finger! It’s in the way too much, argh!”
“Come here!” he opens his four arms and hugs her. She hugs him back, though she kept on complaining about how this tiny finger is just an absolute annoyance and bane of her existence. Bumblebee could offer her pats and sympathetic chuckles.
“I guess I have to get used to it.” Sari says with a soft sigh.
“That seems like the right choice. How’s your body, by the way? Anything strange?” Bumblebee asks, worrying about her since she swapped her organic body.
They both worked for decades to make it possible for humans to extend their lifespan this way. Sari wanted to do this so badly because she didn’t want to leave Bumblebee and Windblade because she would die of old age. He helped her with his vast knowledge of biology. Now she’s the first technorganic human in existence.
It makes him happy. He wonders if Spike would agree to this, too.
“I’m good so far! My spark seems comfortable in the new vessel. Good thing I immediately went with the idea to 99% replicate the original body and 1% is just minor cosmetic changes. Like elven ears!” she says while touching her long, pointed ears. People saying they just gonna start calling tecnorganic humans “elves” and she’s down for that.
“True, if it was too different, the spark would reject it.” He finds it hard to believe that the procedure went so smoothly. His countless simulations and calculations paid off. “I’m happy this worked out. Now you can stick with us way longer!”
They hugged tightly, feeling content.
------
Bumblebee sits in the main room at his working desk. It’s filled with countless datapads, some snacks, and hypercharged energon. He needs all the energy he needs to finish planning ecosystems on two planets: technorganic Venus and biometallic Mars.
The estimated amount of work is so immense that Bumblebee doesn’t feel confident. One thing is taking care of one planet. It was hard, but manageable. But two planets and also Earth under his watch…
This is too much!
He leans against the chair and slightly slides down, feeling disheartened. The plan itself is taking so much time, even divided into small pieces! It’s probably gonna take him several centuries to build up the ecosystem on both planets, but people need it now. Sure, they can wait, but perceived pressures are slowly breaking him. Bumblebee is trying to relax and gather his thoughts, but it doesn’t help much. He hugs himself with his lower arms while covering his face with uppers and sighs.
Windblade, with sitting on her shoulder Sari, enters the room, giggling about something. They see tired Bumblebee and immediately rushed to him. The VTOL jet carefully places her palm on his shoulder, making him look up at her.
“Bee, you don’t look well!” Sari frowns. “Windy, we gotta drag him to the pillows!”
This makes him laugh tiredly, appreciating Sari’s direct course of action.
Windblade looks at his cluttered table, then back to him. Without saying a word, she picks him in bridal style. Bumblebee grunts in protest, but he’s too tired to object vocally. She walks to the huge pillow mound in the room's corner. Every guest gets so perplexed upon seeing this in the main room, and the fact it moves to different corners every time the visit creates a lot of rumors. Bumblebee could clear this up, but those rumors are very entertaining so he and his friends decided to them going.
Windblade carefully puts down the eldritch dragon into fluffy pillows, then flops beside him. Immediately, Bumblebee feels relief. He never realized much tension he was holding for hours until now. He smiles for a bit, but this smile quickly fades upon remembering the impending doom.
“What’s wrong? Do you need help?” Windblade asks.
“I just don’t know how I am I gonna do this.” Bumblebee groans. “Three planets to take care of! Three!”
“You definitely need a hand!” Sari says, carefully leaning forward to him while keeping herself on Windblade’s shoulder. “And we won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“I’m not sure how you can help. All this work is repetitive and requires my abilities.” Bumblebee sighs. “Even if I give you tasks that don’t involve this, there is still a massive load of work on my shoulders.”
Everyone went silent and thought about potential solutions. Bumblebee’s abilities are unique and cannot be replicated, but there has to be a way to make his work more efficient and less stressful.
“I wonder if we could figure out how to share this power?” Windblade asks. “All sparks in Collective Unconscious are connected to you.”
‘Yes! And those threads connecting sparks DO transfer information!” Sari claps her hands once as she realized. “That's how new cybertronians simulate your learning experience in the forging pods, right?”
Bumblebee’s optics widen. He never thought of this.
“That’s an idea! Hold on, I gonna try something!” He closed his optics and went completely still, diving into Collective Unconscious on the spot.
He looks around to find his friends sparks in proximity to his. He touches Windblade’s while placing another hand onto his spark. As Sari suggested, he can feel that the thread is a channel between them. He tried to send a small portion of his energy toward her. It took a few tries until a surge went through the channel into her spark. He let go to confirm that the energy keeps flowing. After this, he forced himself to awake.
Bumblebee is greeted with surprised faces. Windblade stares at him while Sari is somehow down on the pillows, shifting her gaze between the two. He immediately sees that jet’s lilac optics shining the icy blue in the pupil.
“Did it work?! How do you feel? Are you in pain?” he barrages her with questions.
“I felt a jolt through my entire body and it made him almost jump, and knock Sari down,” Windblade says while examining herself. “I don’t feel pain, but I feel bizarre. It’s warm, but it’s not affecting my core temperature.”
“Wow, that sounds neat!” Sari stands up and rapidly climbs Windblade to sit on her shoulder again. “Can you make those shiny projectiles that Bee makes?”
She was about to try this out before she was released she has no idea how. She looks at Bumblebee for help.
“Hmm… oh I know! Imagine you’re pulling the energy out of your spark. It’s fluid, so treat it like water.” He shows her an example, creating the ball of light in his palm. She takes a few tries before a ball of light forms in her hand, identical to his.
“I can’t believe this worked!” Bumblebee stares in awe. “I… I guess we could try this!”
“Woohooo!” Sari cheers, almost falling down again.” This is exciting! Good thing I passed Sumdac Systems to another person, so I can do other things. Like being a Life Warden and help with your responsibilities. And we can share your markings under your eyes to match.”
“And maybe we could expand a bit? An additional system with more people to help you monitor the ecosystems and conservation.” Windblade says, idly moving the ball of light between her hands.
Bumblebee thinks for a moment. On the one hand, he wants to decline because this job is what he was made for. But he knows how this ended. He never had a choice in this matter, but he can’t walk away from it. So, instead, he will do this on his own terms. With help. 
“I like this idea. Though I must be careful because I don’t want to inflict you the same chronic illness I have.”
“Sure, we’ll figure this out.” Windblade smiles. “That sounds nice, isn’t it?”
Bumblebee smiles back, and he thinks about it, the more he likes it. Not being alone on this duty would be so relieved and efficient.
Later in life, he’ll realize that this was one of the best decisions ever he made.
------
The sun is setting above Detroit. Bumblebee lay in alt-mode on the shore by lake Erie. Spike is resting by him in a wheelchair, between his neck and right upper paw. They've been chilling for a while, watching the sunset without saying a word. The human has grown very old, his brown hair has turned silver and his already weak knees cannot sustain him. The age of 154 is taking its toll on him, but Spike doesn’t mind.
Bumblebee feels uneasy. He feels the human’s spark is slowly losing its grip on this old body. He doesn’t have much time left…
“So, how is Sari doing?” Spike asks.
“She’s well, and her new body doesn’t cause major issues. There were a few things here and there that required tuning, but this project is a success.” Bumblebee says,says, with a little hope in his voice. “Soon any human can extend their lifespan if they desire.”
“That’s good to hear.”
They sit in silence again. Spike, not saying anything else, makes Bumblebee even more anxious. But he has to know. “Have you considered it?”
“I did, but I won’t,” Spike answered, making Bumblebee’s spark squeeze.
“Why?” he asks, trying hard to not be desperate. He doesn’t want Spike to leave.
“It’s just…” Spike pauses, searching for the right words. ”It’s scary. Not because of the procedure, but because I can’t imagine living forever. I’m okay with the time I was given, and I made the most of it.”
Bumblebee doesn’t understand. As someone who lived an enormously long life, this was strange to him. But he knows humans are like this, embracing mortality from birth and making sure the time they spend alive wouldn’t go to waste and benefit the future generation.
Though, knowing this doesn’t make him any less sad.
“I lived a long life thanks to modern medicine, and I’m grateful for it. I achieved what I wanted to achieve and now I’m content with things as they are. Besides, I don’t want to outlive Daniel, my grandchildren, and their children.” Spike glances up at the dragon with a kind expression. “I hope you’ll understand.”
Right, children too. Sari doesn’t have any, and she tied her life with cybertronians early on. She has no one to outlive after her father passed away.
“I see…” Bumblebee says quietly. It upsets him, but always wants the best for Spike and if he wishes to die naturally, then this is how it should be. “I accept it, then.”
“Thank you.” The human smiles in contentment.
-----
Two years later Spike was rushed to the hospital because of his health declining fast. Doctors couldn’t do much before he became unresponsive. They allowed his family to enter.
“Where’s uncle?” Daniel asks Windblade, who entered the building in her human holoform.
She glances up. “On the roof. He says he’ll go into Spike’s mindscape.”
“Is… is it safe? I mean, when dad dies, and he’s still in there?” he asks anxiously, imagining the worst scenario.
Windblade frowns at the possibility, but shakes her head. ”Bumblebee knows what he’s doing.”
On the roof, the dragon appears to be asleep, but his mind is elsewhere. Spike’s mindscape is filled with stars as always, though now it’s slowly falling apart. The human, floating in the middle, sees Bumblebee approaching and waves at him.
“Nice to see you here, but you better not stay for long. This place is going down fast.” He says with a calm voice, feeling relaxed despite anything.
“Yeah, this place has had better days.” Bumblebee chuckles.
Muffled sounds coming from the room in the waking world can be heard. Spike looks up and smiles. “Everyone came, I assume? That’s great! I had a good run, didn’t I?”
“You did,” Bumblebee smiles gently. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Awww, thanks!” Spike laughs.” So, what will happen to me?”
“Well, your spark will detach itself from your body and go to the Well. Then, from what I know, it will be cleansed of all information. All your memories will be erased before you’ll move to another life.”
“Ah… like all-all memories? I was kinda hoping to keep some so I could see you again.”
“Hmm… maybe you’ll keep some echoes of the past or feelings. After all, Windblade somehow found me. Twice!” Bumblebee says, not sure if he should hope or not. He noticed sounds disappeared and everything went black. “Already!?”
Spike, sparing his last second, hugs Bumblebee tightly. “Then I’ll find you again. No matter the cost!”
The dragon hugs back, feeling how the mindscape is pushing him out. “I’ll be waiting. Goodbye, Spike. Thank you for everything. I love you!”
“I love you too. Tell my family I love them.”
Before he could reply, Bumblebee was forced awake and felt Spike’s spark leaving this plane of existence. He was sitting there, feeling numb for a few minutes, before the realization and grief painfully pierced his soul. He sobs and wails as the world cease for him, not noticing a pair of arms embracing and holding him tight.
------
Several months after Spike’s death, Bumblebee struggles. The loss hit him harder than he thought, almost incapacitating him completely. He thought he was ready because he knew this was coming. But in the end, it still hurt as much as losing Starjump and Lightbright who died tragically.
“It was my fault.” He cries into his hands, curling into a ball in the bed.
“How can this be your fault? He died of old age!” Windblade tries to reason with him while holding him close.
“I should have convinced him!”
“It was his choice, not yours!” Windblade says, quickly realizing she sounded harsher than she was aiming for.” I mean, would he be happy if he agreed against his wishes?”
“No…” Bumblebee’s sobs harden. He cries his spark out for a few minutes before he could continue. “It hurts so much, and I can’t even bring myself to do anything. I’m so lost and empty, I keep running into things I know he would love — I can’t, I miss him!”
Windblade rests her chin on the top of his head. “I miss him too. We all miss him.”
Sari comes back from her ecological assignment. She could hear him crying at the entrance, so she immediately goes into their room. She climbs onto his shoulder to caress the back of his head.
They stay like this for a while. Bumblebee deeply appreciates the support, making this pain a bit more bearable. He glances at the corner where his little shrine is. A Cybertronian tradition to keep things that belonged to loved ones after they die. It has Starjump’s music box, Lighbright’s filigree lantern, and Spike’s cane, bringing him a small portion of comfort as well.
As long as the memory is alive, they will love on in his spark.
29 notes · View notes
mayandrei-pabillona · 2 years
Text
POETRY SCAVENGER HUNT
" The Spouse"
by Luis G. Dato
Rose in her hand, and moist eyes young with weeping,
She stands upon the threshold of her house,
Fragrant with scent that wakens love from sleeping,
She looks far down to where her husband plows.
Her hair dishevelled in the night of passion,
Her warm limbs humid with the sacred strife,
What may she know but man and woman fashion
Out of the clay of wrath and sorrow—Life?
She holds no joys beyond the day’s tomorrow,
She finds no worlds beyond her love’s embrace;
She looks upon the Form behind the furrow,
Who is her Mind, her Motion, Time and Space.
O somber mystery of eyes unspeaking,
O dark enigma of Life’s love forlorn;
The Sphinx beside the river smiles with seeking
The secret answer since the world was born.
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6 words impression:
"Fated love, wish happiness, last forever."
"The Sick Rose"
by William Blake
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6 words impression:
"Love makes us blind, losing souls."
"Order for Masks"
by Virginia R. Moreno
To this harlequinade
I wear black tight and fool’s cap
Billiken*, make me three bright masks
For the three tasks in my life.
Three faces to wear
One after the other
For the three men in my life.
When my Brother comes
make me one opposite
If he is a devil, a saint
With a staff to his fork
And for his horns, a crown.
I hope for my contrast
To make nil
Our old resemblance to each other
and my twin will walk me out
Without a frown
Pretending I am another.
When my Father comes
Make me one so like
His child once eating his white bread in trance
Philomela* before she was raped. I hope by likeness
To make him believe this is the same kind
The chaste face he made,
And my blind Lear* will walk me out
Without a word
Fearing to peer behind.
If my lover comes,
Yes, when Seducer comes
Make for me the face
That will in color race
The carnival stars
And change in shape
Under his grasping hands.
Make it bloody
When he needs it white
Make it wicked in the dark
Let him find no old mark
Make it stone to his suave touch
This magician will walk me out
Newly loved.
Not knowing why my tantalizing face
Is strangely like the mangled parts of a face
He once wiped out.
Make me three masks.
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6 words impression:
"Hiding true colors and faking real."
"Problem Is"
by Conchitina R. Cruz
They say poor Filipinos multiply
like rabbits since they have nothing
to do but fuck. Living in houses with room
only for the inevitable brush
of the hand against the buttock in between
chores, on the way to switch
channels to the daily noontime show,
no money and little space
lead to nowhere
but to coupling. We used to joke
and call our selves typical Filipinos,
broke and empty-handed,
when all we did was touch, and for all
the movies we missed, fancy dinners
we didn’t have, books we borrowed
but never owned,
we compensated
by making love.
You told me not to worry,
that someday the worst
would end, just a couple of right
moves and it would be over.
Should I have told you then
we’d never been better,
should I have told you then
to hold your tongue, but we had
no room for such words.
We were rabbits,
Seeking the other side, bent on
Crossing the pasture.
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6 words impression:
"Playing lust, so much joy, suffer."
"Lament for the Littlest Fellow"
by Edith L. Tiempo
The littlest fellow was a marmoset.
He held the bars and blinked his old man’s eyes.
You said he knew us, and took my arms and set
My fingers around the bars, with coaxing mimicries
Of squeak and twitter. “Now he thinks you are
Another marmoset in a cage.” A proud denial
Set you to laughing, shutting back a question far
Into my mind, something enormous and final.
The question was unasked but there is an answer.
Sometimes in your sleeping face upon the pillow,
I would catch our own little truant unaware;
He had fled from our pain and the dark room of our rage,
But I would snatch him back from yesterday and tomorrow.
You wake, and I bruise my hands on the living cage.
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6 words impression:
"Jailing own self, could kill personality."
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chuckling-chemist · 14 days
Text
anyway happy 4/13 here's my once a year oc fic
A long time ago, there was a princess.
Her blood was tyrian pink, as all princesses were. Her hair was long and black, tied back in a simple tyrian pink ribbon that matched her blood and her eyes. Her horns stood above her head and curled inward, giving off the impression of a drawn butterfly’s antennae. Nothing to make her look especially tall, like the horns that belonged to the other members born into the aristocracy and upper crust of Alternia, but she didn’t need it.
Nor did she need an especially fancy dress the way the others here needed it. She wore a simple pink gown that went down to her ankles that matched her ribbon and her blood and her eyes, a simple pink butterfly mask for the occasion and a simple pin of her symbol – an inward spiral – pinned inside her wrist corsage made of pink carnations and pink roses.
The roses and carnations were once white. She didn’t know much about flowers, but knew enough to know they didn’t come in the shade of pink her blood did.
Nothing much did. Not other trolls, or other flowers, or anything outside of herself and the relatively recently crowned Empress, Carica Elsker.
This gala wasn’t in Carica’s honor. No more than any other gala and party drawing every royal out of their posh hives and ivory towers was or wasn’t in Carica’s honor. This one was in celebration of some major victory their military had off-planet that turned their tide for them, and with Carica currently shuttling herself over to the site, it meant the only Heiress had to go in her stead.
The only Heiress who was a part of a completely different lineage from the Elsker line of trolls. Yoscan.
They used to rule, likely generations of highbloods ago. She’s not sure how long the Elsker’s have dominated each other instead of another fuchsia. Reports differ on if it was Carica’s ancestor who overtook the Yoscan’s or someone earlier, and Carica’s ancestor culled another Elsker for the throne instead.
The Elskers, she learned early on in her history lessons, had a penchant for rewriting in their favor. Even if her tutors never called it such.
She shouldn’t be too mad. Because of Carica’s ancestor (or her ancestor’s ancestor?), the first Beguiler, she didn’t hold the emissary of the Horrorterrors as her lusus. And, because of Carica’s concern of being overtaken, her caste weren’t required to charge for the throne immediately upon adulthood. If she wanted to, she could pursue anything she wanted. Run a restaurant. Command an army. Stay on planet and resume being a rich socialite, as she currently technically was.
A shame all those options sounded so terribly boring for someone like her. A Yoscan.
Whatever that meant.
So she stood here, nearby the punch bowl, staring at rich trolls born into their affluence and rich trolls who worked for their affluence, both of whom stepped on more than a few heads to get where they were. This were not the events she frequented of her own volition. Perhaps the patrons of the gala sensed her nervousness, her naivete, and as such avoided her. She wouldn’t blame them. She probably would do the same.
Though, she didn’t have many events she did frequent. Her tutors kept her on a rigorous schedule, leaving her only time for hunting to keep Carica’s lusus sated and silent.
She should have expected someone to come toward the punch bowl. Should have, and yet when a finger brushed against her shoulder, a gentle tap to inform her of a guest’s presence, she jumped, immediately turning toward the source of the individual: a violetblood with ornate fins and tall horns that curved into what appeared to be an S stared back at her. His mask was dark, an inky black except for a thin white line that took on the shape of a pair of glasses, and his suit equally dark. What she assumed was his symbol – a circle with a line down the center – was pinned against his suit with a small amethyst behind it.
He felt familiar. A face she was once told had a name. She wondered why she couldn’t place it.
“Ah, my apologies,” he said, lips forming a worried line. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She relaxed, smoothing down her dress and giving him a stilted smile. “It’s no concern. Ah…”
He took a step back and bowed, letting his gaze drop to the floor. “Simply Inaeis is fine,” he said.
She fought back the urge to frown, though her drooping fins failed to hide her disappointment. The name didn’t feel nearly as familiar as his face. “You must be the most recent Heiress,” he added, “The Yoscan?”
There was no point in hiding it. Mask or not, unless she were a freak of nature she would have come from one of two lines. The mask was little more than the thinnest veneer of anonymity for her.
She nodded, motioning for him to stand up. “Kisoku, yes. I take it you’ve heard of me?”
His fins twitched. “In passing, yes. For those of us with our fins to the sea floor, it’s hard for someone in my field of work not to hear of the first fuchsia not wearing Her Imperious Beguiler’s sign in sweeps.”
This time she did frown. “What’s your field of work?”
He allowed his expression to relax into a smile. “Nothing terribly important. Investigative work of a kind,” he said.
“Like a private investigator?” She furrowed her brow, eyeing him quizzically. “Isn’t that below the stature of a violetblood?”
His smile widened, eyes glinting underneath his mask. “Only if you think of it as such.” Inaeis stepped closer to her, leaning against the same table she did. “I hardly feel there is any such law stating I must join the fleet as a high ranking admiral, when my skills are better used elsewhere. And as a violet, I am effectively free to do as I please.”
She remembered her lessons, remembered seeing the various charts and diagrams explaining the setup of troll society. Each caste and each role for each caste. Rules and structure most are forced to learn the second they step outside, but her role as heiress and fuchsia was the maximum enforcer from the top. If she (or the Empress) didn’t put the pressure on the violetbloods, they wouldn’t put adequate pressure on the purplebloods, and so on and so forth.
(“Like a diamond,” her tutor said. “Their true beauty comes from the force of its surrounding area.”)
“Only social pressure,” she said.
He looked at her, eyebrow quirked, and let out a short huff she assumed was a laugh. “We’re at the top of the proverbial food chain,” he said. “Despite whatever your lessons taught you, there is no social pressure. You could run away and change your identity and no one would care.”
“I’m sure someone would care,” she said. “I am an heiress.”
He turned away from her, looking over at the other side of the ballroom. It was a small ensemble made of an assortment of midbloods, but currently only the jade pianist plucked away at the keys, playing a soft tune she didn’t recognize.
Much like herself, the other patrons chose not to acknowledge them, instead mingling around with each other. Something she felt confident in saying had to be a common event, leaving them to become little more than paid window dressing.
“Suite number 28, by Debusy,” Inaeis said. “In case you were interested.”
“I’m not sure I am,” she paused to glance between the musicians and Inaeis, “but it looked like you were.”
Another huff, this one undoubtedly sounding amused. “I consider myself a fan of the arts. Unlike many of them,” he gestured forward with a white gloved hand at the crowd in front of them, “who could not tell Suite 10 from Debusy between Shopan’s Null Opus. They merely pretend. Collect what isn’t there’s, if the item is physical. I’ve seen more than my share of forgeries hanging in a cobalt’s hive” He let out a laugh, the sound ringing hollow in her ears. “They’re told supporting the Empress and lavishing in their wealth is what’s most important in life.”
“So what is, then?”
Inaeis was silent. She watched as he glanced around the room again, clearly searching for something, before he stretched out his gloved hand.
“A dance.”
She looked up at him, suspicion crossing her face.
He was avoiding the question.
Why was he avoiding the question?
With a nod, she gingerly took his hand, letting his looming frame lead her toward the center stage of the dance floor. The song, apparently Suite 28 by Debusy if he was to be believed, continued on, the pianos fingers dancing on the keys as the music swelled.
And Inaeis, to his credit, was an excellent dancer. He seemed to register her inexperience, choosing to guide her through each spin and twirl with deft movements on the center of the dance floor. With each turn, each run of piano keys going up and down, he pulled the two of them tighter and tighter together until she could feel his breath on her fins, the pleasant heat against her own cold skin making them twitch.
In that brief moment, they felt more like one unit than two individual trolls, with blessedly not a single soul in the room looking at them.
“You need to run away.”
Her aquatic blood pusher turned frigid. Had he not continued to guide her, she would have stopped. As it was, she merely tripped over own feet, saved from the harsh clacking of stumbling shoes by a sudden dip that aided in slipping her back into position.
She pulled away, putting distance between the two of them without stopping the dance. “What?”
“The Empress. Her Imperious Beguiler. She doesn’t take kindly to other fuchsias outside her lineage who pursue her own political theater,” he said.
“Yes, but-”
“She’s the Empress,” he said. His words were cold, somehow colder than the ice in her chest. “She doesn’t need to cull you with her own trident for you to wind up face down in the ocean.”
“Even if I have no interest in becoming Empress?”
“Do you have another pursuit?”
She shook her head. “Of course not. This is what I’ve been raised to do.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” His fins drooped. “I’m serious though. After tonight, run away. Change your name, hide your blood caste, anything. But you are a Yoscan, and in Her Imperious Beguiler’s eyes, a threat to her position.”
“And what makes you so sure?”
He didn’t need to answer. The hollowness and pained expression on his face told enough horror stories she determined she didn’t want to know.
Fine, she thought. A different question then.
“If I’m not to pursue this life, what do you suggest I do?”
The song ended. The two of them parted. He nodded politely to the pianist, flashing the briefest smile of encouragement to the jadeblood. The jadeblood locked eyes with him for just long enough to see it, before turning away, face flush.
How interesting to see one from outside the brooding caverns. I didn’t think that was allowed, she thought.
“Live. Be free,” he said. “Live a life so full no highblood here could dream of it.”
***
Not that long ago, there was a princess.
Her blood was tyrian pink, though she didn’t think about that too much these days. Her hair was long and black, its waves and curls held back only by a teal ribbon tied up to keep it out of her face. Her horns stood above her head and curled, looking like the swirl of her symbol in its infancy. She stood tall against her company, a female brownblood with horns not dissimilar of a deer, but only thanks to the heels she insisted upon wearing as they entered the abandoned chateau. A supposed storagehouse of Informer Duskfire for his confiscated art collection, according to the brownblood’s research. Lost to time alongside his dubiously legal library, the very same library the brownblood’s moirail resided in for years.
Both of them were only illuminated by the lantern sitting on the floor between them, and the twin flashlights pointing at the distressingly familiar portrait on the wall.
“It’s not real,” she sneered, staring at a prim and proper looking version of herself. “It’s a fraud. They fucking told me I was the only one of my line!”
The brownblood pursed her lips in irritation. “And who’s they, exactly?” Because this looks like you.”
“It’s not.”
She gestured up to the horns that made the fuchsia bare her fangs in annoyance. “Those are your horns.”
“Shorty’s said horn patterns can repeat.”
She pointed at the familiar swirl in the fuchsia blood’s jewelry. “That’s your symbol.”
“Coincidence.”
“On a fuchsia? The single rarest caste to exist?” The brownblood sighed, adjusting the hold of the flashlight to hold like a knife, the light now illuminating the deep scar going down her face. “Can you choose not to be obtuse for once in your life, Mayola? I wouldn’t have bothered showing you this if I didn’t think this was you.”
“I’m not being obtuse,” she said. She pointed her light directly at the painting, desperately hoping to burn the face off of the stupid fuchsia standing in front of her. “My stupid tutors fucking told me when I was barely out of pupation I was a freak of nature who shouldn’t exist. And believe me, Careen loved throwing that one in my face too when she could.”
“And it didn’t once occur to you that they were lying?” This time, she didn’t wait for Mayola to answer. “Because they do. You know they do. You were the one to stumble upon my ancestor’s tomb with Ektome. I don’t know how this is so different.”
Mayola sighed in irritation.
“Because-”
Because it means my life has been a useless lie.
Because everyone around me treated my existence as if I was another lowblood cog in the machine until I ran away.
Because it means now I’m living in the shadow of an ancestor and destined to finish what she started.
Because I’ll never be free.
She snarled, throwing the flashlight at the wall. It landed with a soft thud, the portrait seemingly undamaged while the light pointed toward something an abstract painting of a calvalreaper. The brownblood didn’t even flinch, her stare continuing to bore holes into Mayola’s soul.
“Because it just fucking does, okay Valeba?” she exclaimed. “Are you fucking happy now?”
She spun around on her heel, ready to be march out, only for Valeba to catch her arm and pull her back with her free arm, forcing Mayola to stare at Valeba in the face.
A part of her brain was dimly aware Mayola was far stronger than Valeba. Her kismesis was a brownblood, and no matter how skilled Valeba was at combat, most seadwellers could outmatch her blow to blow in physical strength. If she wanted to, she could yank her arm free and take off, leaving her in the dust.
But yet, here she was, letting this brownblood, second bottom out of the castes, seamlessly manhandle her and keep her in place with little more than a knowing stare.
“You told me once you weren’t leadership material. It wasn’t in your blood,” she said.
“’Cause it’s not. Plain and simple.”
Valeba sighed. Her flashlight dropped to the floor. Hot breath tickled Mayola’s face.
“Funny. It looks like I’m staring at the evidence right now.” Her tone shifted, into something quieter, less sure, as she added, “The second Heiress Apparent.”
A light breeze, no doubt a draft in this decrepit mansion, blew between them. It danced along the edges of Mayola’s hair, making her suddenly long to chop it off again.
She sucked in a breath.
She wasn’t so blind to not see what she was staring at.
“Now take it.”
Mayola had never closed the distance and kissed her so fast in her life.
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livealittleoc-cb · 7 months
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:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: The Avatar of Pride
⋆。°✩ Biblical Name: The Devil
⋆。°✩ Human Name: Mochizuki Ryōsuke
⋆。°✩ All sins are contained into the Underworld unless with their guardian, given special permission from a deity of the underworld or have someone outside of hell to take care of them
⋆。°✩ Pride is not one to take interest in others all that easily! He is much more obsessed with himself then anyone else so his interest being peaked would take longer then the other sins. She should not be trusted without her guardian around! Very manipulative and narcassistic. [please take this into consideration when interacting!]
⋆。°✩ Just like other supernaturals/gods/etc. the sins have a human form if allowed to walk on Earth/Human Realm
⋆。°✩ In "human" form Harajuku, Japan, in Astria he's from Otril
⋆。°✩ He / She | Homosexual, Poly | 21 [Human Years], is actually about 1,000+ years | 06/01 [Gemini] | 5'8"
⋆。°✩ He is:
arrogant
narcissist
a show off
the hottest shit [in his mind]
is better then everyone else [again in his own mind]
spontaneous
flirty
over the top
flamboyant
Demon, Hybrid, Animal && Human Forms/Sin Info
⋆。°✩ was prince of the 3rd Circle [Gluttony]
⋆。°✩ contained into the form of a Indian Peafowl, Black Fancy Mouse or a Maine Coon [Depends on how nice Ari is feeling that day or if he's in hell] 
⋆。°✩ in his demon form he is 6'8", has a purpleleathery wings [20 ft/ 610 cm wingspan], a set of up curled black && purple horns on the sides of their head, his ears are pointed && wears silver hoop earrings, has a tattooes of a triangles && lines in multiple areas, purple long claws, he has a long leathery tail with dark purple fluff at the end [16 ft/ 488 cm], their legs are similar in shape to goats legs, his tongue is long && pointed [2 ft/ 61 cm long], has 1 set of fangs, his whites are all black && his pupils glow purple, his crown would sit on his head when he was prince [amethyst gems && silver], they typically wears shorts, knee high boots with garter belts && a crop top everything in black && purple tones
⋆。°✩ his horns have a period of being sensetive, DO NOT TOUCH UNLESS CLOSE && TRUSTED!
⋆。°✩ in hybrid form [mouse] he has cute round mouse ears, whispers or no whiskers && a mouse tail [cat] he has two cat ears, whiskers or no whiskers && fluffy brown tail, will never see him in his peacock form
⋆。°✩ in human form his skin is pale, has a tattoo on his right arm, has many piercings especially on his ears, always has makeup on && is well groomed all the time, wears a lot of rings && necklaces, he wasn't allowed to keep anything from his past life, has twinkly && cool dark purple eyes, nails always nicely manicured, always has acrylics or his nails are always painted, always wears the best clothes
⋆。°✩ his wings sometimes come out [his leg shape might also change]
⋆。°✩ when angered or annoyed his eyes will glow purple with little bursts of purple "explosions" pop around them
⋆。°✩ Resides: District 6 [former], District 1 [current]
⋆。°✩ Languages: As a demon speaks all languages, focuses on Japanese && English, can speak in tongues
⋆。°✩ Representative Colors: Grey, Dark Purple, Black
⋆。°✩ Guardian: The Black Rose [5th in Command for the Reaper Council]
⋆。°✩ Guardian Mark: Mirror on his Left Pec
⋆。°✩ Curse: N/A
⋆。°✩ likes: himself, mirrors, HIMSELF, very revealing clothing, being well groomed, makeup, H I M S E L F!
⋆。°✩ dislikes: everyone else, messes, dirt
Powers
can become smaller when they feel threatened
can create idle view of himself [causes people to be entranced && obsessed with him]
gender switching
impressive lie [can tell any lie && you'll believe it]
NSFW
⋆。°✩ a switch, has no real preference but does like being taken cared off during && after sex; some of his kinks are marking [receiving && giving], collaring [receiving && giving], pet play [will be your kitten only if partner is okay with it], breeding [receiving && giving], size kink, public, impact play [receiving && giving], praise [receiving && giving], hair pulling [giving && receiving], orgasam control [receiving && giving, oral [receiving && giving], free use [giving && receiving], humilation [giving && receiving], choking [giving && receiving], bdsm [most elements], double penetration [receiving], overstim [giving && receiving], mirror sex, hate sex, whipping [giving && receiving]
⋆。°✩ hard nos: feet, watersports, wasteplay
⋆。°✩he prefers harder kinks but will not force this on his partner[s], does also like softer kinks
⋆。°✩ his eyes turn a deep deep purple if he is arroused
⋆。°✩ safe word: reflection
⋆。°✩ uses 🪞 or 💜 on dash
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faceclaim: @/ruki_nilduenilun on ig
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zackcrazyvalentine · 3 years
Note
Soulmate AU with Malleus. He can see his s/o in his dreams and he has since he was little. And one day he sees them in one of his night strolls. Very Once Upon a Dream. (S/O in question could be Yuu)
This soulmate AU fits so much with Malleus and Silver
And thank you for dubbing this little piece for me~! This will be called:   “Once Upon a Dream”
-- -- --
“Who are you?” The little fae asked. There was a figure standing in his favorite meadow amongst the Valley of Thorn’s huge forest.
Wind blew through lustrous tresses of [hair color], leaves and petals lost themselves in the beautiful mane. The mysterious silhouette turned around at the sound of a newcomer.
"Hello there!" A blurry smile was drawn on their lips, the only feature he could make out from between the shadows covering their face, "Me? Well, it appears to be that--”
“I am someone very special in your life" 
Their voice resounded all around Malleus, and that smile quickly turned mysterious.
"Or will be, at least~! It will take some time for us to meet. In person, I mean." They giggled.
The wind blew harsher before the royal heir could speak once more. The whipping of leaves and dirt caused him to use his arm as shield, covering most of his view of this strange person.
They looked around, becoming aware of something. "I apologize, dear, but it's time for us to part."
"The only thing I can tell you for now is…
Whenever we meet,
No matter if it's in person or when sleep comes,
Tell the person in front of you that you've met before…
Once upon a dream."
Was the last thing he registered before the harsh wind's whistles took over his hearing. Malleus tried to call out to them, but they suddenly turned into soft flower petals that were blown away.
Soon after, the fae woke up.
That evening, as Lilia bathed him, the crown prince asked: "Uncle Lilia, what does it mean when you dream with someone unknown?"
"Ah, at last you allow your head to land back down on your shoulders, Young Lord. It is strange of you to be so absent minded." The older fae commented, "But allow us to leave that behind… A dream of someone unknown, is it? Well, that is fairly common."
The dragon pouted in disappointment at the answer he received. "No… this one felt different, very different… we were alone…" The child turned to look at the soapy water, maybe it was indeed a delusion.
It was then when Lilia's curiosity awakened. "Why so crestfallen, young one? Why do you say this one is different from the rest?"
"They told me…" Malleus hesitated for a second, "They told me they are… will be someone special in my life. That we will eventually meet in person." His little brows furrowed in confusion at the peculiar dream, "What did they mean?"
The old bat then smiled widely, cheer evident on his entire being. "Oh, my little Draconia is growing up so fast~!" A giggle dotted his words. 
"My sweet Malleus, it appears you have had your first meeting with your soulmate!" Lilia exclaimed.
Soulmate… Soulmate… A person you are destined to be together and live a fulfilling life, where love and company are ever present.
Certainly, the young prince could not wait to meet this enigmatic person.
For he would no longer be alone again.
.
.
Years passed and the dreams with this blurry silhouette continued. Their image became clearer as time went by.
A luscious head of [length], [color] hair
The cutest nose in the middle of a [skin color] face
They stood at [height] tall
Lovely curves shaped their body
After the longest time hearing static in their voice, he could finally make out their clear tone A sound so melodious, he would smile whenever he recalled how they called him "love"
The one thing that remained, however, were the shadows covering their eyes
And every time they met, he reminded them of their previous meetings in Dreamland, just like how they told him in that first dream
.
Then it happened
The fated encounter
Malleus was no stranger to loneliness. When night falls and sleep eludes him, he welcomes the feeling.
Night strolls always instilled a sense of peace in him, sufficient for his mind to settle down and allow sleep in. This time, however, as the dragon visited abandoned corners of Night Raven College, an intense pull tugged at his heart.
His fae instincts got the best of him, the curiosity too intense to ignore. His pace quickened, yet his eyes kept looking at what appeared in front of him, instead of wandering around the rundown walls and windows.
Little did he know, there was greater beauty waiting for him on the other side.
~°~   ~°~   ~°~
A garden of sorts, full of winding vines with dark thorns, but what possibly were the most eye catching things were the many rose bushes filling the space. Black roses, so dark they swallowed any light that touched them.
"What an unusual future you have," The intruder broke the silence, "Destined to be with royalty."
[Name] took a step back as the tall figure advanced. "Wha- What do you mean?"
He smiled at them, smug and mildly mocking, "Well, I didn't expect you to outright know what I talked about. Just remember, dear one…"
The term of endearment made their heart flutter, then it suddenly clicked.
"If we ever meet again,
In flesh and in visions,
Remind me of our acquaintance
Once upon a dream…"
He closed the distance between them, "Let's hope fate isn't so cruel and allows us to meet in time."
After that, he gently pushed them to the fountain behind.
Startled, the [hair color] woke up. Heart racing a mile a minute, breath equally as quick, the sensation of falling felt too real.
“Fate… Have I met my...?” Remembering him made their heart flutter.
For years, they had waited for a sign. A compass on their wrist, red string tied around their pinky, words on their arms, for their hair or eyes to change color, anything! Finally, he came to them in the unconscious world. Finally, they had a clue of what he looked like.
Finally, the comfort of knowing they were destined to be with someone and not alone embraced them.
That night, [Name] cried in relief and happiness.
~°~   ~°~   ~°~
They waited for him to show up in valleys, cafés, restaurants, deserts, forests, her own home… everywhere in their dreams.
It was unsettling, but not unheard of, to only get one dream about your soulmate in your entire life. Still, the [color] eyed slept every night with hope in their heart to see him again.
His hair was dark and long, smooth as silk
Onyx horns sat atop his head
A cute pair of fangs made an appearance when he opened his mouth wide
The height of him, wow… 
And his voice… Oh, his voice was so rich and beautiful; a permanent echo in their mind.
If only they had the joy of looking at his eyes, but alas, darkness shrouded them.
.
It was almost a sixth sense telling them to get out of bed and wander around campus. A risky maneuver, but they just… had to!
That is how they found themselves standing there, under a leafless tree, waiting for… something, apparently. [Name] couldn’t help but think this was a terrible idea, the wind was chilly and they had only their pajama to cover her.
The sound of someone clearing their throat made them turn around. “Apologies… Have we not previously made acquaintance?”
Shining [eye color] met vibrant lime green for the first time. One could clearly see that both their breaths were stolen once face to face with their destined partner.
“I-I believe we have..!” [Name] stuttered nervously. A giggled bubbled up their throat.
Malleus smiled fondly, “Ah, I think I remember… It was-”
“Once upon a dream.” They said in unison.
The [hair color]'s smile brightened as they held out their hand, “[N-Name], [Name] [Surname]”
The tall male delicately shook their hand, “Malleus Draconia.”
Soulmates kept looking into each other’s eyes before speaking up once more:
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to meet you.”
[END♡]
-- -- --
Reader’s dream is supposed to be her and Malleus at their current age While Malleus’ was him as a child and them as a teen Just to clear that up, if anyone was wondering~
Left it as ambiguous as I could so anyone can insert their OCs or MC!
Man, really missed fantasizing about soulmate AUs (´ ▽`).。o♡
Thank you for the request, for reading, and hope you enjoyed!
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awesomerextyphoon · 4 years
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Slit Reflection
This is my entry for @jtargaryen18​​’s Haunted House 2020 Challenge. Mine was Sam Wilson. Credit for dividers goes to @firefly-graphics​. Check them out!
Summary: You’ve always loved Halloween, especially the haunted house at the edge of the woods. So happens when the ‘Star Spangled Trio’ enters the mix?
Pairing: Demon King!Sam Wilson x  Black!Reader (Fem)
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 3,054
Warning: Kidnapping, Forced Marriage, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Stalking, Breeding Kink, Mentions of Torture, and Non-Con/Dub-Con Smut. You have been warned.
Back to Masterlist
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You’ve always loved Halloween. It was your birthday and the haunted house at the edge of the woods gave the best spooks and thrills. It was your first Halloween after undergrad and this year was different.
The Star Spangled Trio were celebrity guests and they were bringing two of the old rooms back!
It took you six days to get a ticket. You tried getting one online, every shop in town, but got nothing.
Finally, a new face at the library took pity on you and gave you the last ticket along with a book on demon folklore. You thanked the new librarian and rushed out of the building. Had you looked back you would’ve noticed a smirk on their face and their sclera and pupils turning black and gold respectively.
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Halloween—the day of your birth—was here, and it was shit. Your toothbrush broke, your car refused to start, the job that you desperately wanted was dashed by yet another rejection email, and both your student loan and rent checks bounced. You just need to get through today.
You missed the cutoff, but got in because the person working the line was a family friend. Anxiously, you wait in line wondering how the haunted house in your small ass town managed to nab the Star Spangled Trio when you noticed the excited expressions of the people leaving. Now you’re super anxious.
By the time you entered the haunted house, you’re doing the breathing exercises to calm yourself. This was it! You were finally going to meet your all time heroes (and possible spank bank entries)!
The first few rooms were your typical haunted house fare which you loved, but were secondary to your excitement in seeing your heroes. Maybe you could get an autograph and hug from them!
You were about to follow the person in front of you into the haunted house’s hospital room when you noticed a light flickering to your left. It revealed a door done in the Neo-classical design with some Latin text engraved in the middle (had you studied Latin , you would’ve known that the text read “Reveal yourself, my beloved”).
Opening the door, you saw that it lead to the Hall of Mirrors. This part of the haunted house was always a favorite of yours, but both the itinerary and the ticket worker said that it was closed this year. The hall itself was chillingly quite and pristine as if no one else had stepped foot inside this season.
All of the mirrors looked standard for the haunted house; some of them made you laugh or briefly catch your breath. The one at the end of the hall caught you off-guard. It was at least 12ft (about 3.66m) high with intricate carvings of characters out of dark folklore and a single diagonal slit.
You were about to turn away when you saw nothing thinking it was a small haunted house joke at your expense when the mirror flashed.
In your place was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen, but it still looked like you..sort of. Your hair was long, luxurious and gently flowing. Your eyebrows, eyelashes, and nails were immaculate. Your nose was adorably broad and your lips were sensually full (the type of full women would shell hundred’s if not thousands of dollars for). You wore a diadem with thick gold chains ladened with diamonds, onyx, and rubies and around your neck was a ruby and onyx amulet. You were dressed in a loose, yet sleeveless form-fitting Vivaldi red gown with hints of fiery red and a thin rosewood colored shoulder veil connected to the dress by a ruby broach in the middle of your cleavage.
You looked about four or five inches taller and the mirror version of you made you feel nervous about your curves being out on display.
Curious, you reached out to touch the mirror. Your hand was less than a centimeter away when your mirrored self opened it eyes. Suddenly, it grew curved horns and its eyes glowed pale gold.
The mirrored version of you grabbed your outstretched arm and dragged you through the mirror all while you screamed hoping someone would come to your rescue, but to no avail.
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Samael, or ‘Sam’ was notified of your departure and the trio had to excuse themselves from the festivities to congratulate Sam on finding his bride.
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You woke up with a start and shout clawing the air but stopped once you realized that you weren’t falling anymore. Instead, you were in a huge, opulent room filled with treasures that not even Windsor Castle had. Curiosity seemed to have taken hold of you because you walked out onto the connecting balcony to find that you were on a different planet/dimension/realm, whatever!
There were floating landmasses (the smallest of which was the size of your small town) and five planets ranging from Moonbow Gold to Venetian Red in color.
You thought about where the fuck you were and how you could get back home when a voice interrupted your thoughts.
The source of the voice was a demon with Antique Ruby skin with reddish gray undertones and Cinnabar and Rosewood colored hair. She had two short outward curved horns with a gold chain and aquamarine teardrop connecting them. Her eyes were an inviting aqua blue eyes with a dark red sclera.
“Hello! My name is Scheherazade, but you can call me Sherry. I’m your Lady in Waiting. I’ve brought some food.” Sherry offered as she set the tray of food on a small table next to a dresser.
You smiled cautiously at your new elevated handmaiden,”Do you know why I’m-”
“Oh, I almost forgot! We need to get you ready for your presentation!”
The Fuck?!
“What do you mean ‘presentation’?,” you asked as nicely as possible, but reality came out more like a demand.  
Sherry stopped her ministrations and faced you,”Well, when the monarch, crown prince, or princess declares their mate, they are presented to the royal court,” she then returned to her task of finding a suitable dress for you not catching the mortified expression on your face.
This day can’t get any worse. Wait?
“What time is it?”
“Oh, yes, It’s pretty much always night here. The sun only comes out for three hours. Would you look at the time! Everyone’s waiting!”
“One last question,” you started as Sherry began dressing you,”Who am I marrying?”
“Why my second cousin, King Samael, one of the Three Demon Kings,  of course!”
You fought the impulse to faint.
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It took thirty minutes for Sherry to make you look unrecognizable. Thankful for her assistance, you followed the floating torches to the throne room. The throne room was an enormous room with high wide vaulted arches, delicately carved pillars and columns, and a small bridge connecting the ground at the door to the center. The court comprised of beautiful yet fearsome demons of all shapes and sizes.
The king himself was seated on a grand, ornate throne atop a huge dais with at least 25 steps. He seemed familiar.
As soon as you were passed the threshold, the king raised his head and everyone stopped talking and cleared a path for you. Several courtiers whispered as you striddled towards the dais. When you finally reached the dais, the king got off his throne and walked down the steps to greet you.
You almost face-palmed. The king was Sam Wilson! Or at least, looked like him.  
Sam for his part was devastatingly handsome. He had a tall, powerful build, broad shoulders, bulging biceps, muscular thighs, short well-kept hair and beard with surprisingly kind eyes.  
“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” Sam uttered as he pulled you in for a hug. You could’ve sworn he sniffed your hair, but you didn’t want to go into that right now.
“Everyone!” The court turned to the throne,” Thank you for coming. I have finally found my bride. We will be married tomorrow night!” Sam exclaimed to thunderous cheers and applause. He slipped on a magnificent ruby and diamond engagement ring with a black gold band.
You could not believe this, “I can’t-,” you started, but Sam discreetly grabbed your wrist, “Pre-wedding jitters,” and led you to a side room.
You expected him to hit or yell at you like so many other royals in a similar setting, but instead he gave a sad smile and asked if you were truly happy in your old life. You thought about your crushing debt, little to no job prospects, both parents dead, no friends and you had to admit your life did suck, but he didn’t get to decide.
Disappointed, Sam casted a small compliance spell and pulled you in for a kiss. Your pupils blew out in lust and you lost yourself. When he finally decided to break for air, Sam stated that you will be his bride and he will not be denied any longer. You smiled and gave him a short but passionate kiss. He moaned but had to end it before he went too far.
Tomorrow night he promised himself.
He quickly called for Sherry to return you  to your quarters.
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Sherry woke you up the next ‘morning’ with a small army of beauty experts and maids.
“Rise and shine, Your Grace! We’ve got a bride to present!” Sherry proclaimed.
Damn it! It wasn’t a nightmare.
They managed to stuff you into a marvel of a wedding dress. It was a Torch Red long-sleeved mermaid wedding dress with soft yet detailed lace work made to look like an enchanted forest, diamond, dark ruby and pearl beads, and a floor length train. On your head was a black gold spiked sunburst goddess with deep ruby roses and a simple ruby teardrop chain that rested on your forehead, the ends of which were wrapped around your horns.
“Not even Lilith could compare, Your Grace!” Sherry gushed at her handiwork.
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The wedding procession and ceremony was done in a swift fashion as Sam didn’t want to wait much longer. The vows were short as well. You wanted to object, call for help, anything but a voice in the back of your mind beat you to it.  
A couple hours into the wedding festivities, Sam announced that it was time for he and his new queen to retire and led you to his quarters. It’s the fanciest suite you’ve ever seen dripping with luxurious reds, violets, and obsidian.
In all your awing of Sam’s quarters, you failed to notice him approaching you in only a simple loose shirt and trousers. He gently put his hands on your exposed shoulders,”Alone at last, my love.”
You recoiled, “Can’t we wait for a few days? It’s just…” you trailed off as soon as his jovial expression vanished replaced with something darker and hungrier.
“I’ve waited for so long to have you here with me, love,”  Sam confessed while you moved towards the exit,”and I will not be denied any longer!”
In an instant, Sam pulled you in for a demanding kiss. He pushed his tongue past your lips moaning when your tongue tepidly danced with his own and from the sweet taste of your mouth. He pushed you onto a bed that had to three times the size of a California King and his lips moved jaw and neck, egged on by needy whimpers and moans.
He took his time ripping off your gown, enjoying the view like a child on Christmas, ”Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Utter perfection,” Sam murmured as he watched your breasts bounced free. He alternated between sucking and pinching your nipples with his hands and mouth,”I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he whispered in your left ear and he continued to play with your breasts like a concert-level musician. All the while moaned and cried out feeling pleasure you never thought possible.
Once satisfied with his handiwork with your chest, Sam’s hands roamed over your stomach and hips followed by strategically placed butterfly kisses that made you squirm. He tore off the last of your wedding gown causing you to hiss at the sudden sensation of cold air touching your pussy.
You used your last bit of willpower to plead, “Please stop! I’ve never-,” Sam stopped and raised his head to look at you.
“I know, love. I’ll be your first and only,” and with that, he gives your folds one long, slow lick and growled at your sweet and tangy taste, “I’ve wondered how you’d taste. You’re even better than the best Kharian wine. I could get used to this.”
He dove back in and played your pussy for all it was worth. His tongue worked its magic stroking and circling your clit sending you higher and higher into euphoria. Sam kept you right on the edge of an orgasm, just enough to beg for release.
“Say you’re mine!,” you mewled in response, to blissed out to use words. “Say it or I’ll leave!”
“Please let me cum, My King!” you cried out when he thrusted two fingers into your pussy.
“That’s a good girl. Now,”Sam started as he vigorously rubbed your pussy,”cum for me, love.”
Your orgasm came like a tsunami and Sam made sure finish his feast.
You got out of your post-oral haze to see Sam looming over in all his naked glory. His body must’ve been made by the gods because it was divine. His frame was an ode to sexiness wrapped in sinful warm sepia skin.
Sam caught you biting your lower lip and cocked his head, “Like what you see?”
Damn that cocky bastard, but damn if he wasn’t right. Part of you wanted to fuck his brains out…and that was before you saw his cock. Standing proud and erect with angry veins, his cock had to be the biggest you’ve ever seen (not like you had much exposure, just a few pornos).
Sam crawled up to you, lifted your chin and gave a soft kiss on the lips sensing your unease, “Relax, love,” He then lined his cock to your entrance and slid in as gently as he could.
You hissed from the pain, he was just so damn big. Sam praised you on how well you fit around him like ‘you were made for him’. Once the pain subsided, you bucked your hips into his causing him to moan at the sensation. He smiled at your eagerness and picked up the pace, making his thrusts come out to just the tip was in you and slamming back into you. You cried out his name each time he filled you to the hilt, pleading with him to go faster. Soon he reached your G-Spot causing to orgasm again, this time with you crossing your eyes and coming with a squirt.
Not too long after your second orgasm, Sam came with an otherworldly roar and glowing bright gold eyes shooting rope after rope of thick cum into your womb. He then flipped you onto your stomach and forced you onto your hands and knees so that he could take you from behind.
He got ten orgasms from you, each one more mind-blowing than the last. Once he was satisfied, he let you sleep.
“Soon you will be round with my seed, and we will have many children. I can’t wait.”
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Ah hour after you closed your eyes, Sam left his, now yours, quarters. “Make sure she doesn’t leave,” he orders the guards although, he’s confident that she’s not going anywhere with the way he hammered her.
He strode down the corridors until he reached the dungeon. There, he found a rather nice looking apartment-style cell with only one prisoner, your mother.
“I’ve taken your daughter. Do you want to see her before you go?”
You see, Samael, Mikael (Bucky), and Stelios (Steve) were demon warlords who began conquering kingdoms left and right 1200yrs ago. They fought their way to the last free kingdom, Kharan. By the time your grandparents were brought before them, they had killed your uncle, the heir to the throne. The king and queen begged for their lives and the kingdom to be spared.
The trio agreed on one condition: if the next child the queen bears is a girl, then she would be Sam’s mate (Mikael and Stelios already had mates).
The king reluctantly agreed. The queen gave birth four months later to a girl, but she was in demon form. The queen had two of her most trusted attendants spirit the child away to another realm and raised her as their own.
Sam had your grandparents slaughtered and razed Kharan to the ground for their trickery. No matter, he was immortal. He would bide his time.
Eventually, your mother was told about her true parentage and form. She learned to control her powers, found love and she too was with child.
Sam found her a week before she went into labor and said that it was time to collect. She promised you in her stead immediately in hopes that it would buy her some time.
It did. She was able to pass you, a cambion, off to a friend of hers who wanted a child but couldn’t conceive and gave Sam a fake baby. He had your mother thrown into the dungeons.
Sam searched for you, but discovered that your mother put a cloaking spell on you. So, he approached your mother with a deal: her freedom for you becoming his mate.
It took your mother three years of torture for her to say yes.
Once the spell was lifted, Sam went to work. He made sure your adopted parents had a little ‘accident’ when you were old enough to take care of yourself, made sure that no one would want to hire you, and saddled you with debt. He even got Mikael and Stelios to pose as ‘The Star Spangled Trio’ with him to finally get you to the Hall of Mirrors.
Your mother bowed her head in shame, “No. It’s best for her to believe that I don’t exist.”
Sam unlocked the cell door with a simple spell, “You’re free to go. Have a nice life,” and returned to his quarters to be with his mate and queen.
Your mother took one last look at the palace,”I’m sorry, my little moon and stars,” and disappeared into the night.
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icicleteeth · 3 years
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Daedric Prince Cakes Design Doc
(For those seeing this before the full set of cakes are up, I’m just posting this ahead of time so that I can link it right when the post goes up. Full doc under the cut!)
Azura: Each layer of Azura’s cake creates a gradient of deep dark blue to lighter pink to represent dusk and dawn. Red roses on top represent the crown of red roses she’s seen wearing in many of her depictions.
Boethiah: Colors that stuck out to me for Boethiah were blacks, golds, and reds, so the base of her cake is a marble cake (as the patterns in marble cakes matched a theme of elegance that I thought also fit her very well) Cherries for a touch of red, golden skull ornament, and a tiny prop of Hopesfire, as what I knew Boethiah for was being Almalexia’s Anticipation.
Sheogorath: Sheo’s cake is a cheesecake (for reasons I’m sure most know), with a bright purple gelatin top, as purple is one of his primary colors. The two truffles on top represent dark seducers and golden saints, with butterfly wing decorations. White chocolate is used for the square on top since white chocolate is sweeter and less bitter, which is meant to contrast his other side (Jyggalag)
Jyggalag: Also a cheesecake, done so to mirror Sheogorath’s cake in both type and composition. His includes a much more muted pallet with a darker bitter chocolate decorating the top.
Clavicus Vile: A mousse cake, with layers of browns similar to his TES Redguard appearance. The fig on top is representative of a “forbidden fruit”, as Clavicus is the prince of trickery. The two carved and shaped chocolate slices are a visual representation of the horns on the Masque of Clavicus Vile. 
The smaller mousse is Barbas, always by his side even in cake form...
Sanguine: Red velvet cake, to fit the decadent nature of Sanguine. Only red fruit on top, with a red rose decoration to represent Sanguine’s Rose. One cherry is a “popped” cherry, since he’s a prince of lust.
Hircine: Hircine’s cake is designed to be as snowy white as possible, representative of the white stag you hunt for his quest in Skyrim. The small antlers and snowberries decorating the top fit the aesthetic of a snow white cake, so they were used here.
Trinimac: Though he’s not a daedric prince, I wanted to include him too. Trinimac’s cake is designed entirely from speculation and meaning, in the sense that being an Aedra and, from what I understand, being one of the main gods of the Aldmer, I felt a more dignified type of cake like coffee cake suited him. In both shape, color, and flavor, it is meant to be a foil to Malacath’s cake.
Malacath: To contrast Trinimac, Malacath’s cake is a king cake, which is very sweet and very colorful. A small orichalcum figurine of an orc is hidden in one of the different pieces, and is found, or “born” from the cake, referencing how Trinimac became Malacath.
Mephala: Dark chocolate for this one, as I thought it fit her aesthetic better. Pomegranates are a symbol of fertility so was included on top, with cherries adding more shades of red to her cake’s pallet. The spider web shaped frosting wrapped around the base of the cake is there to more visually represent her.
Meridia: Making her cake angel food cake was a bit of on the nose reference to how she’s sometimes depicted as an angel in her statues. The “Meridia’s beacon” white truffle is decorated with white chocolate wings for more of the angel motif, though I mostly went into her design with whites and golds in mind.
Mehrunes Dagon: Dagon’s cake is a “tower” of things to represent the daedric towers you’d see in Oblivion, with a lava cake as the base, a scoop of ice cream (which was done so because most of the lava cakes I looked at for reference) and a cherry on top representative of a sigil stone.
Molag Bal: Designing Molag Bal’s cake to be a cupcake was admittedly an “I don’t like this prince so I’m going to make them a measly cupcake” decision, haha. As for the rest of the design choices, they were mostly inspired by ESO’s Molag Bal as that’s his most major appearance in TES. Blue frosting and fire, plus the cupcake holder is drawn direction from gates you’d see in Coldharbour.
Hermaeus Mora: Designed completely visually from Skyrim’s Herma Mora, I’d say it speaks for itself... I promise the eyes aren’t real they’re just fun little gummies...
Peryite: Lots of green for Peryite; the green gelatin topping drawn like the green goop you see in his Skyrim quest, the small green blue topping meant to look like little bits of backteria (though admittedly they don’t quite read that way, haha) and a decorative green snake on top (not real, probably)
Nocturnal: Another cake represented more visually, with black frosting, dark chocolate cake and dark blue/purplish fruits on top. The honey drizzle is in the shape of the gold trim seen on her robes in most of her depictions (thinking specifically of Skyrim and ESO’s take on her).
Namira: Namira is a prince of lower diseased/sickly creatures, so her cake was designed to reflect that, plus some Namira’s Rot mushrooms for good measure. The meat is...a mystery meat that is probably best not to ask about...
Vaermina: A tart made of alchemy ingredients, as alchemists were a big part of her quest with the Dreamstride. As for the alchemical reagents used...they would certainly put someone to sleep, to put it generously...
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bitchfitch · 3 years
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Conall woke to the smell of cinnamon and burning hair. His nose scrunched and his lips curled in a silent snarl he wasn't awake enough to suppress as he sat up in the bed he kept trying to escape. 
His every bone protested as he stood, and his muscles shook, with the aftermath of another full moon spent hunting through the woods like a common beast after being twisted into the shape of one by this stupid fucking curse. He managed to get his feet steady under him as he sought out the absolute bastard that kept dragging him back here. 
Arlo was where he always was, sat in front of the vanity in one of the bedrooms with his fingers combing through his stupidly long hair. He huffed as a greeting, not even bothering to look at Conall as he picked at a few strands and started the work of braiding it all into a manageable length. 
One of these days Conall was going to take a pair of shears to it all. Just to be cruel, just to stoop to Arlo's level.
"Why am I here," Conall demanded, "I left, I told you I had no interest in staying," 
"Yes well you see, I didn't bring you back here," Arlo retorted, "You crawled back all on your own, and collapsed on my doorstep like you do every damm month," 
"You know full well its your stupid curse that keeps brainwashing me back here," Conall stormed up to his side and was step away from grabbing him before that stupid curse twinged and forced any ideas of hurting the stupid unicorn out of his skull with a painful snap, 
"It's not a curse, Its not My curse, and there's nothing to do about it that I Haven't already done," 
"I'm sorry, do you just expect me to believe you have nothing to do with the curse that makes me want to protect you? That turns me into a dog everytime you are at your most powerful? You Truly believe I'm that stupid?"
"I believe you're that stupid, because you can't see that that's the truth, I didn't give you this blessing, I didn't make it. I didn't even know it was still kicking around until I Saved your sister from it," he spat,
"Fucking Explain it then, Explain why you are such a fucking liar," Conall had to swallow down bile as Arlo's hurt bumped up against the stupid curse.
"Im Not A Liar. And it's a long fucking story," Arlo snapped at him, 
"Then get fucking talking," Conall didn't care that he was scraping gouges in the wooden floor as he dragged a chair closer and dropped into it with a heavy huff. 
Arlo rolled his eyes and sneered as he started, his tone that of someone telling a bed time story to a brat they didn't particularly like, "Once upon a time, there was a queen who ruled an expansive and beautiful kingdom. She was perfect, and regal, and swelteringly kind, and most of all she was devoted to making sure her people Thrived no matter the cost.
So, one day, she gathered her kingdoms most powerful sorcerers, calling them each by name as she beheaded them and drained them of every drop of blood they had to give before rending the meat from their bones so that those may be used too.
When she was done she poured it all into her cauldron, and preyed and chanted and sang as she cut her own heart from her chest and dropped it into her brew.
The blood boiled around this offering so willingly and lovingly given, and the magic found her soul and bound it back together as the first of her children rose from the pot with her mounted on his back. 
He was a bull, white like the clouds above and as thick around the middle an entire chariot was wide, with golden hooves and single horn jutting from his forhead as he galloped and pranced with the reborn queen laughing on his back. 
The second was a similarly single horned war horse, white and gold but smaller than the bull that came before him. Still, he was stunning as he joined the joyful parade with blood clinging to his coat. 
The donkey was next, again with one horn growing from the center of his skull like a stake. Short and lean but powerful as he charged along with his brothers and their perfect mother. 
Then the deer burst forth, his single horn forked as he bounded so proudly around the room, leaping and prancing over the ruined remains of their imperfect fathers and other mothers. 
Finally a goat clambered out after them all, bleating and struggling to keep pace with his long legged family. He was the runt, the weakest, made from the dregs of the sorcerers' magic. 
The queen saw her runt and opened her arms to him and carried him on his brother's back. None of her children would ever be forgotten, or allowed to be trampled as long as she was there to protect them.
The family, complete and beautiful and perfect burst from the chamber and into their palace, the joyful cries of the people echoing through the halls at the sight of their reborn queen. They screamed and screamed as they welcomed her children into their court by offering up a feast of a first meal for their hungry mouths. 
The Queen's already prosperous land Flourished as though spring had finally hit after a year of winter. Her beloved and perfect and powerful children served their people with joy in their hearts. No one in the entire land ever went hungry, no field was ever blighted with rot, no wound left un-mended nor was even a single disease allowed to spread. The coffers were full and gold paved the streets, the water of their rivers and lakes ran crystal clear and sweet like honey.
The Perfect Queen and her Perfect children were worshiped by their people, but such beautiful perfection bred vile envy. 
A vile and selfish little human crept into the children's rooms one night. A lasso in one hand and a dagger in the other as it hunted through the corridors, looking for which one it would steal away from its family. 
But oh that silly little thing, weak and stupid as it was. It found the children curled up together with their mother watching over them. 
The Queen cought it before it could even take a single step, her wings beat as she dragged it out the window with her, her claws digging into its soft body threatening to destroy it completely. But in her divine mercy, she lifted it higher and higher and higher, twisting and bending its imperfect shape into something even more grotesque. 
She landed with it held in her arms and she called to her children, who of course always headed their mother's call.  
She laid the creature at their feet and told them that it would protect them now, that it was their pet and that they should look after it, that they should love it so that it would love them. 
That was the first werewolf, it stood guard over their rooms and when others like what it had been came close it would tear into them and spread its gift. They would turn too then, and join it in its guarding. 
Though, the children only ever loved the first of their precious dogs. The rest were too much fun to not play with. So, long as at least one lived, they could do whatever they pleased with the others. So they did. They tore them apart and painted their rooms in their blood and takes their hides with their brains and the children made their mother necklaces and crowns and bracelets and rings and every other little bobble they could from those precious wolves' bones.
The children loved their mother, so of course they wanted to lavish her with every gift they could. She had already given them so much, it was only fair.
The perfect family and their perfect pets weren't allowed to be happy forever though. A man, A king, their mother told the children to call him that, came into their home and soon their mother was heavy with his imperfect children. 
She assured her eldests that this was only a means to an end, that she needed an heir. Someone who would look after her perfect children when she was gone. She told them that while the children the king gave her would never be perfect, she would make them so. Just like she made herself perfect, just like she made all of them perfect, she would make these new lives perfect too.
To prove her devotion to the children born from the blood of her heart instead of the water of her womb, she gave the first of the king's imperfect offspring to them.
Oh how the king sobbed as they ripped it to shreds. Its awful little body not even worth being made into a gift for their mother.
The second was allowed to grow. Their mother would bring him to her perfect children every day and have each of them lay a blessing on him until he too was perfect. 
Only then did they welcome him as a brother. Only then did they begin to follow his orders like they did their mother's.
Oh how foolish those perfect children were.
Death came for their mother one night, her blood stained the long dead king's son's hands. 
Were he anyone else, they would have destroyed him just like they did that first child the king gave their mother. But their own blessings made him immune to their curses and their powerful bodies. Their mothers own blood protected him even when it hadn't protected her.
The Queen's perfect children cried and shrieked their mourning, and refused to lay their gifts on any of the cruel and selfish humans. It was their blood that ran in their littlest and most vile brother's veins, why should they serve any that would dare to share a history with him?
The new King did not have the patience for his perfect siblings. So he stole away their hounds and sent them to war, all but the one they loved, he killed that one in front of them and made them watch as it begged and suffered. 
Then, when they continued to refuse to obey him, he took everything they had. He took their hair and their eyes and their horns, and the skin off of their flesh, then the flesh off of their bones and then he took those too. And he took until there was nothing left and those perfect siblings of his were gone,"
Arlo looked back to his mirror his shoulders tense and his hands shaking with ancient grief, "Then, one day many years later, when the Perfect Queen and her perfect children were only whispered myths, a pair of witches gathered all of their magic and the corpse of their beloved sister. 
They went to the place that the Perfect Queen's castel had once stood and called on the fragments of her children, They pulled the goat, the weakest of his siblings from the aether and begged for him to revive their sister. 
He looked at the humans, and saw only their selfish ways. But he could not return to his rest. No, they held him there and demanded he do what they asked. Said they would never let him go if he didn't. Said they would damn all of his brothers to that horrid… inbetweenness of not being fully alive and not fully dead while being all to aware of it.
So, he looked them in the eye and made them a deal, Their sister's heart would beat and her body would walk again, but they must never attempt to summon his brothers. 
They were stupid, and agreed.
The goat took the dead sister's body as his. Her heart beat, and she walked and talked, but it was him who was in control.
He damned himself to this existence, knowing the witches had no way of killing him, nor did they have a way to summon his brothers while the body was being used. 
Years passed again, now with the goat alone in the palace he had shared with his perfect family. Unable to leave because if he did some other ungrateful and selfish human might try to take from him again. They might not care about destroying the body he wore like the witches did, and if the body was destroyed, the witches might try to summon and damn his brothers. 
So the goat lived in the buried castle and watched the world above through his mirror, and eventually he began talking to the witches, he was so dreadfully lonely that even their vile company held value. 
Other horrid little humans would stumble close sometimes. He'd kill them on sight, Or curse them until their blood boiled in their veins, or he'd give them something that looked like a blessing just so they would lead more to him. It was the only fun he could have without risking his physical body being known. 
But then the witches finally promised the goat a kindness. They told him that the wolves his mother had made for her perfect children still spread their blessings, but that with the unicorns dead and gone they had turned to vile beasts as they desperately searched for their charges. 
The goats heart ached but then it soared when the witches told him that there was one being brought to him.
A little girl, they told him it was, a child so young that if he loved and cared for it it would grow up to love and care for him in return. He remembered the precious wolf he shared with his brothers and Gladly accepted the offer for them to let him care for it.
Offering them a loc of his hair and blood from his veins. He knew how to not be selfish, unlike the humans, he knew that you always offer something in return.
They took what he gave, but when they brought him his pup, she was in the arms of a strange man. 
He collapsed onto his knees and begged for his sister to be cured tears staining his..."
Arlo hesitates, looking at Conall and picking his next words carefully, 
"His face, that the goat had initially found repulsive but no longer minds. The goat was about to kill the awful and pathetic creature, about to take his precious pup to show her to the room the goat had put together just for her. But then the man's words registered.
He wasn't begging, he wasn't asking to take. He was offering everything he had for the goat to save his sister from a perceived suffering. 
And the goat didn't see the witches making cruel demands and threats. He didn’t see that monster of a half brother demanding he and his perfect brothers work for the creature that killed their mother. 
He saw himself, and he saw his perfect brothers, and their mother. He saw his family always looking out and protecting eachother. 
The man asked for the goat to cure his sister of her blessing, and in return he would give everything he could. 
The goat's heart broke. He wanted, truly wanted, to help a human for the first time since his mother's passing. But he couldn't do what the man asked. His mother was far more powerful, and even now centuries after her death and many many generations removed, her blessing still held stronger than the goat could ever hope to be able t overpower. 
So he made the man, the pure and clever human who knew not to take without giving something in return, an offer. 
The goat couldn't destroy the blessing, but if the man could offer up another to take his sister's place, the goat could transfer it to them." 
Arlo looked back to his mirror, where he saw only Conall's reflection, as he finished the last braid, "I think you know the rest," 
A long moment passed as Conall tried to reconcile the story he was just told with the monster- no, the man, he sat across from.
"Were you really going to take care of Asena?" Conall asked, his voice low and quiet, as though speaking too loudly would break the careful peace between them, 
"I was going to raise her as though she were my own. I was so excited to teach her magic, and to give her all the blessings I could... I guess the witches are doing that now though," He leaned forward against the worn wood of his vanity and rested his chin on his folded arms, "I was going to have a family again," he wiped at his eyes before the tears could spill,
"I'm sorry, Conall," he sighed
"Why?" Conall tried not to sound surprised at such a genuine sounding apology,
"I know those weren't the answers you wanted. I know you wanted me to tell you that it had all been a trick and I could just snap my fingers and cure you of my mother's blessing," 
"No, those weren't the answers I wanted but..." Conall didn't know what to say next, so he said nothing and just settled a hand on one of Arlo's thin shoulders. He squeezed it softly as he felt Arlo go rigid under his touch for just a moment before practically melting beneath his palm. 
Conall had the sinking realization that this might very well be the first time anyone has touched Arlo since his entire family was killed. 
Conall had the sinking realization that the same might be true for himself.
"Please," Arlo whimpered burrying his face in the crook of his arm, "Please, I don't want you to feel trapped here, but please stay, I'll offer whatever I can, but Conall please stop leaving me alone here," 
"I..." he tried to swallow down the words before they could damn them both, but he was so much weaker than The Perfect Queen's blessing,
"Of course,"
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butterflies-dragons · 4 years
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You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. 
I always thought that both, Sansa and Arya have sun and moon imagery around them. But if I have to choose then I would say that Sansa is the sun and Arya is the moon; and after my last re-read of Fire & Blood, I just confirmed it. 
As I said before, several Targaryen sisters duos described in Fire and Blood are very similar to Sansa and Arya, as if George wanted for us to have the Stark sisters in mind while discovering all these Targaryen ladies:
Visenya and Rhaenys
Rhaena and Alysanne
Aerea and Rhaella
Baela and Rhaena
Let’s talk about the last ones, the twin daughters of Daemon Targaryen and his second wife Lady Laena Velaryon: Baela and Rhaena.
In 116 AC, in the Free City of Pentos, Lady Laena gave birth to twin daughters, Prince Daemon’s first trueborn children. Prince Daemon named the girls Baela (after his father) and Rhaena (after her mother). 
—Fire & Blood
Baela’s description matches Arya Stark 
At ten-and-four, Baela was a wild and willful young maiden, more boyish than ladylike, and very much her father’s daughter. Though slim and short of stature, she knew naught of fear, and lived to dance and hawk and ride. As a younger girl she had oft been chastised for wrestling with squires in the yard, but of late she had taken to playing kissing games with them instead. Not long after the queen’s court removed to King’s Landing (whilst leaving Lady Baela on Dragonstone), Baela had been caught allowing a kitchen scullion to slip his hand inside her jerkin. Ser Robert, outraged, had sent the boy to the block to have the offending hand removed. Only the girl’s tearful intercession had saved him.
(...)
Baela’s time on Dragonstone had been more troubled, ending with fire and blood. By the time she came to court, she was as wild and willful a young woman as any in the realm. (...) Baela lived to ride…and to fly, though that had been taken from her when her dragon died. She kept her silver hair cropped as short as a boy’s, so it would not whip about her face when she was riding. Time and time again she would escape her ladies to seek adventure in the streets. She took part in drunken horse races along the Street of the Sisters, engaged in moonlight swims across the Blackwater Rush (whose powerful currents had been known to drown many a strong swimmer), drank with the gold cloaks in their barracks, wagered coin and sometimes clothing in the rat pits of Flea Bottom. Once she vanished for three days and refused to say where she had been when she returned.
Even more gravely, Baela had a taste for unsuitable companions. Like stray dogs, she brought them home with her to the Red Keep, insisting that they be given positions in the castle, or be made part of her own retinue. These pets of hers included a comely young juggler, a blacksmith’s apprentice whose muscles she admired, a legless beggar she took pity on, a conjurer of cheap tricks she took for an actual sorcerer, a hedge knight’s homely squire, even a pair of young girls from a brothel, twins, “like us, Rhae.” Once she turned up with an entire troupe of mummers. Septa Amarys, who had been given charge of her religious and moral instruction, despaired of her, and even Septon Eustace could not seem to curb her wild ways. “The girl must be wed, and soon,” he told the King’s Hand, “else I fear that she may bring dishonor down upon House Targaryen, and shame His Grace, her brother.
—Fire & Blood
As you can see Baela and Arya shared a lot of similarities, both are wild and willful, both short of stature, both wear short hair, both like riding, both prefer the company of the common folk instead of the courtly life, both admire the muscles of a young blacksmith’s apprentice, both seek adventures, both make their Septa’s despair, etc.  
Later Rhaena will marry her cousin Alyn Velaryon, born Alyn of Hull, a legitimized bastard, but the marriage was stormy.
Rhaena description matches Sansa Stark
As young girls, the twins had been inseparable, and impossible to tell apart, but once parted, their experiences had shaped them in very different ways. In the Vale, Rhaena had enjoyed a life of comfort and privilege as Lady Jeyne’s ward. Maids had brushed her hair and drawn her baths, whilst singers composed odes to her beauty and knights jousted for her favor. The same was true at King’s Landing, where dozens of gallant young lords competed for her smiles, artists begged leave to draw or paint her, and the city’s finest dressmakers sought the honor of making her gowns. 
(...)
It was Jace who came to the fore now, late in the year 129 AC. Mindful of the promise he had made to the Maiden of the Vale, he ordered Prince Joffrey to fly to Gulltown with Tyraxes. Munkun suggests that Jace’s desire to keep his brother far from the fighting was paramount in this decision. This did not sit well with Joffrey, who was determined to prove himself in battle. Only when told that he was being sent to defend the Vale against King Aegon’s dragons did his brother grudgingly consent to go. Rhaena, the thirteen-year-old daughter of Prince Daemon by Laena Velaryon, was chosen to accompany him.
(...)
She would of course wed whomever the king and council wished, she allowed, though “it would please me if he was not so old he could not give me children, nor so fat that he would crush me when we are abed. So long as he is kind and gentle and noble, I know that I shall love him.” When the Hand asked if she had any favorites amongst the lords and knights who had paid her suit, she confessed that she was “especially fond” of Ser Corwyn Corbray, whom she had first met in the Vale whilst a ward of Lady Arryn. Ser Corwyn was far from an ideal choice. A second son, he had two daughters from a previous marriage. At thirty-two, he was a man, not a green boy.
—Fire & Blood
As you can see Rhaena and Sansa shared a lot of similarities, both are ladylike, both love the courtly life, both are linked with a (bastard) Joffrey, both lived at the Vale, both are linked with singers, both are linked with Knights and Tourneys, both are dutiful, both are betrothed with a Knight of the Vale, that already had two daughters, etc. 
As Ned promised Sansa a betrothal with a high lord, kind, gentle and strong, Rhaena asked for a not too old, not too fat, kind, gentle and noble husband. She married Ser Corwyn Corbray, who had a great reputation as a warrior, so much so that his father gave him the ancient Valyrian steel longsword of House Corbray, Lady Forlorn.
Later Rhaena will lost her husband, Ser Corwyn Corbray. He would be killed during some succession war at the Vale, which is kind of similar to the events developing at the Vale with Alayne Stone, Harrold Hardynd and Robert Arryn.  
Much later Rhaena will marry Garmund Hightower, the younger brother of Lord Lyonel Hightower, by whom she will have six daughters.
The Sun and The Moon: The Contrasts between Baela and Rhaena  
The contrasts between Baela and Rhaena are very similar to the contrasts between Sansa and Arya:
Rhaena was slender and graceful; Baela was lean and quick. 
Rhaena loved to dance; Baela lived to ride…and to fly, though that had been taken from her when her dragon died.
Yet even here, the council encountered difficulty and division. When Leowyn Corbray said, “Lady Rhaena would make a splendid queen,” Ser Tyland pointed out that Baela had been the first from her mother’s womb. 
“Baela is too wild,” countered Ser Torrhen Manderly. “How can she rule the realm when she cannot rule herself?” Ser Willis Fell agreed. “It must be Rhaena. She has a dragon, her sister does not.” 
When Lord Corbray answered, “Baela flew a dragon, Rhaena only has the hatchling,” Roland Westerling replied, “Baela’s dragon brought down our late king. There are many in the realm who will not have forgotten that. Crown her and we will rip all the old wounds open once again.
The sisters reacted to these lickspittles in vastly different ways. Where Rhaena delighted in being the center of court life, Baela bristled at praise, and seemed to take pleasure in mocking and tormenting the suitors who fluttered around her like moths.
Lady Rhaena proved to be as tractable as her sister had been willful. 
But despite their differences and living separated for years, the twins never had a bad relationships, it seems they were good friends, worked together and comforted each other. 
The good relationship between Baela and Rhaena also gives me hope about a reconciliation and the development of a better and close relationship between Sansa and Arya.
Baela’s Dragon
Baela’s dragon, the slender pale green Moondancer, would soon be large enough to bear the girl upon her back…
(...)
Even more than boys, however, Lady Baela loved to fly. Since first riding her dragon Moondancer into the sky not half a year past, she had flown every day, ranging freely to every part of Dragonstone and even across the sea to Driftmark.
(...)
So it came to pass that when King Aegon II flew Sunfyre over Dragonmont’s smoking peak and made his descent, expecting to make a triumphant entrance into a castle safely in the hands of his own men, with the queen’s loyalists slain or captured, up to meet him rose Baela Targaryen, Prince Daemon’s daughter by the Lady Laena, as fearless as her father.
Moondancer was a young dragon, pale green, with horns and crest and wingbones of pearl. Aside from her great wings, she was no larger than a warhorse, and weighed less. She was very quick, however, and Sunfyre, though much larger, still struggled with a malformed wing and had taken fresh wounds from Grey Ghost.
—Fire & Blood
Baela’s dragon Moondancer “danced” with Aegon II’s dragon Sunfyre. Despite Aegon II’s win against Baela, before dying and being eaten by Sunfyre, Moondancer wounded Aegon II’s dragon so much that it never flew again and died not far later.  Moondancer sounds as fierce as Nymeria, Arya’s direwolf has no fear of other wolves and men and became a savage killer. 
So, Baela Targaryen being so similar to Arya Stark and having a dragon named Moondancer, and Arya being a water dancer, convinced me that Arya is the Moon. 
Rhaena’s Dragon
Rhaena’s egg had hatched a broken thing that died within hours of emerging from the egg, Syrax had recently produced another clutch. One of her eggs had been given to Rhaena, and it was said that the girl slept with it every night, and prayed for a dragon to match her sister’s.
(...)
Known as Rhaena of Pentos, for the city of her birth, she was no dragonrider, her hatchling having died some years before, but she brought three dragon’s eggs with her to the Vale, where she prayed nightly for their hatching.
(...)
Even more grave were the tidings from the Vale, where Lady Jeyne Arryn had assembled fifteen hundred knights and eight thousand men-at-arms, and sent envoys to the Braavosi to arrange for ships to bring them down upon King’s Landing. With them would come a dragon. Lady Rhaena of House Targaryen, brave Baela’s twin, had brought a dragon’s egg with her to the Vale…an egg that had proved fertile, bringing forth a pale pink hatchling with black horns and crest. Rhaena named her Morning.
(...)
And everywhere that Rhaena went came Morning, her young dragon, oft as not coiled about her shoulders like a stole.
(...)
During the first quarter of 135 AC, two momentous events were the occasion of great joy throughout the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. On the third day of the third moon of that year, the people of King’s Landing woke to a sight that had not been seen since the dark days of the Dance: a dragon in the skies above the city. Lady Rhaena, at the age of nineteen, was flying her dragon, Morning, for the first time. That first day she circled once around the city before returning to the Dragonpit, but every day thereafter she grew bolder and flew farther.
—Fire & Blood
Rhaena lost her first dragon the same way Sansa lost her direwolf Lady, but later Rhaena got another dragon that she named “Morning”.
Sansa is heavily associated with Dawn, the moment immediately before the Sun comes. I wrote about it here.   
So, Rhaena Targaryen being so similar to Sansa Stark, having lost her first dragon but getting another one that she named Morning, and Sansa being heavily associated with the Dawn, convinced me that Sansa is the Sun. This lovely parallel also gives me hope that Sansa will have another direwolf in the future, that maybe she will name Dawn.
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kryptsune · 3 years
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Souly Damned Saturdays!~
🌼 Hello everyone! Welcome to another SD Saturday! Today is going to be another character profile, a timeline, and some info on one of the stories within the world! As always if you are interested in my original work please reach out! I love answering questions about all this work. Let’s get into it! 
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~Prince Profile:~
True Name: Saketh Alias Names: Costello Nicknames: N/A (he usually rarely even uses his true name as he prefers Costello far more) Soul Flower Type: Rose in Full bloom          Color Type: Fire Gold mix with Burnt edges Infernal Hierarchy: Crowned Prince of Lust Age Order: 2nd Oldest Familiar Form: (Raven) - A large black feathered bird with eyes and talons of golden fire. True Form Appearance Description:          ~Skeletal in appearance          ~Prominent fangs (spiked teeth in true form)          ~White horns similar to an antelope (more twisted)          ~Fingers with black clawed tips          ~Golden eyes          ~Pointed gold tongue          ~ Stereotypical spaded tail with a black to white gradient          ~ Two sets of wings                          ~White to black gradient and edged with blue fire                     ~When in enraged they are fully engulfed in blue fire
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Human Form Physical Description:       ~Hair Color: warm tone Platinum Blonde       ~Hair Style: Short, falls to ears, whip dip       ~Glasses or Contacts: From time to time, more Rectangular frames       ~Eye Color: Fire Gold       ~Skin Tone: Pale       ~Contract symbol mark placement: His left side, junction between neck                                                                        and shoulder.       ~Height -- 6’3”
Special Abilities or Powers --
        ~Mind reading         ~Can pull out deepest desire            ~Dream walking         ~Veritas (forces those under his influence to tell the truth)         ~Trust (will gain the trust of those touched)          ~Mental Suggestion         ~Lust Touch            ~Levitation          ~Teleportation         ~Fire/Dark element         ~Conjuration (more below cut!)
~SD Q AND A (These are all questions from you! Specifically those in my server):~
1. What was Costello like before he became an infernal?
💛 Costello used to be a Celestial of love just like Val. If you split love into two separate entities it would be the passionate romantic side and the side that is all about protection and devotion. These types also reflect in both Costello’s and Val’s Infernal sides. Costello is more about seduction and Val is about possession and obsession. As brothers they tend to work together in their celestial sides. When they fell they split a bit.
2. When he isn't busy what does he do in his spare time?
💛 Oh thats easy! During his time in the Mortal Realm he spent a fair amount of time in the 1920′s era. It is where his style comes from mainly and why the Lust kingdom appears to have that kind of influence within it. He used to be a charismatic bartender during prohibition and that has kind of stuck with him. He enjoys crafting new drinks both for mortals and Infernals (since they can’t get drunk off regular alcohol). He is also an avid reader.
3. What kind of stuff does he read?
💛 Hilariously he enjoys supernatural romance novels because they fascinate him. Why would mortals be interested in a being that could literally end their life easily? As one such being he finds it both amusing and curious. He also reading them to see what mortals are uh... "into". Other than that he likes reading anything supernatural/gothic fantasy based for “research”.
4. Does Costello share the same view on humans as Val?
💛 Val and he at one point help similar enjoyments fo mortal kind. They found that they were were entertaining and rather sweet to observe when falling in love. When they fell all they saw was darkness not just from mortals but also themselves. How lust overwhelms your thoughts and drives you to commit certain acts. Their opinions grew apart when Val was corrupted by their father, Darrius. They only were both brought back due to their brother Nas and the mortal they meet later in time, Evelyn Rodgers. Their nickname for her is Starlight.
5. Does Costello like animals?
💛 Yes he does! He has a specific affinity for the raven. 
6. Does Costello have a favorite drink? Alcoholic and non alcoholic.
💛 He enjoys most drinks but specifically a Galaxy Cocktail but with an Infernal twist. When it comes to non-alcoholic I would say that he is more of a coffee connoisseur so things like Mocha. He enjoys sweet things but not to the level that Val does. (btw that cocktail looks like this)
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7. Would Costello be willing to befriend humans?
💛 Before the fall, absolutely but after the Fall and before Eve? No. Humans are just tools for his amusement and entertainment. I should mention that Costello while his father is in power goes off the rails... and is extraordinarily dangerous only when Nas pulls him back from that does he mellow out. During the 1920's he still has a superiority mindset and a master of emotional manipulation. He is however far...FAR more mellowed out at this time which is why he humors Eve the first time they meet.
8. What are Costello’s responsibilities in his kingdom? 💛 It really depends on when in the timeline you are asking about. If we're talking before Nas ascends to the throne of the realm? Then Costello's duties were much less. He assisted Nas who was High Prince of Lust at the time. He studied and learned, ready to take over for Nas if the other needed to leave or otherwise. Now that he is High Prince himself? His duties include the hefty amounts of paperwork ensuring every soul is accounted for. New souls that hold purity to fall under Nas' new ruling, getting where they need to go if they landed in his kingdom. He also handles some punishments for the wicked. He has to run the entirety of Lust kingdom. Valentine... yanno... somewhere... X’D (trust me he probably isn’t the best one to ask)
~Souly Damned Timeline~
Creation of the Realms: The Celestial, Infernal, and First Mortal Realm come into being. The Infernal realm is closed off leaving the Celestials to guide and shape humanity. There are intermittent wars with the Infernal beasts and Imps when they manage to break their gates. The garden of Paradise was also created at this time which houses those most loyal to their “gods”. It is also a fact that the Celestial blooded creatures were created at this time (unicorns are a good example, light fantasy creatures). They were placed in the Garden.  
The Celestial Civil War: Darrius and his sons rebel against the ways of the Silver City only to be stricken to the Infernal Realm. After this event the gates to the Celestial Realm are shut and mortals are forced to fend for themselves. 
The Rise of the 12 Princes: The now fallen Celestials begin to corrupt the souls of the mortals present being known as the Seven Deadly Sins. The mortals are easily swayed by their new rulers dubbing them King and Princes. Each one with its own people and territory to preside over. In this time the Princes begin to succumb more deeply to their darker sides, now shunning their once Celestial blood. 
Blood Moon: A period of time in between the rule of the Princes in the First Mortal Realm where 4 Princes began to experiment cruelly with their own corrupted blood and the mortal soul. The Infernal blooded hybrids come from this part of the timeline such as vampires, werewolves, and the fae.
The Vinculum Infernalis (Witches/Warlocks): With the Celestials gone the mortals were now forced to fend for themselves. In desperation they plead with their Fallen overlords to aid them. A blood binding contract was struck between them giving them magical abilities and a new tie to the Infernal Realm. This was also the creation of the first covens.
Maintaining the Balance (Hunters): Enraged by the tilt of the balance of the universe in Infernal favor the Celestials decide to form a similar bond with mortals creating the first Celestial blooded humans. They would eventually be called the Hunters as their “divine” task was to eradicate the First Mortal Realm of the Infernal Blooded abominations now that the Princes favored the newly created realm.
Long Live the King no more: After millenia of creating havoc and bloodshed without consequences the Princes begin to doubt the leadership of their father. They have slowly changed their mindsets about mortals all together after so much time. Instead of destroying everything in sight and soaking the earth with blood they begin to have an attachment. Their fathers' ways are despotic so in response to this Nasaros, the eldest, usurps his throne.  A second war is waged between those of Infernal and Celestial blood turning the First Mortal Realm into an almost apocalyptic wasteland filled to the brim with monsters and ruins. The Princes lose the war doing substantial damage to the Celestial Realm. It was no longer habitable and so a new balanced realm was created for the mortals to live in peace without fear of Celestial driven war or demonic influences.  
The Locking of the Gates: The gates of the three Realms are shut and locked in the beginning of the birth of the New Mortal Realm. The Princes are forced to make a new Kingdom within the Infernal Realm to which they have been banished. This forms “Hell” in which the decisions of a mortal's life determine where they go. If they revel in the original 7 sins then they are placed in the kingdom in which they over indulged in. The silver City was once again open to those of virtue but only after death. With no direct interference from either side the humans evolved and advanced on their own. This is what we know as the world today while the First Mortal Realm was now labeled as an in between realm. One that would eventually be called Purgatory, the realm of beasts, monsters, and the supernatural.
Bloodswap: A story set after the time frame of Blood Moon and the creation of the Hunters. It is about 2 brothers that become infected with a vampiric blood that is now turning their town to shambles. The gates have been sealed and those forced to live in Purgatory struggling to survive. The mortals have progressed slowly despite being an older realm. They are currently in what we would consider the middle ages with the help of Celestial technology. Once the gates are unsealed for the New Mortal Realm a new world order begins to form. (Crimson would be proud of his new vampiric race that has slowly taken over Purgatory, now more civilized as the rulers).
The New Mortal Realm and Purgatory: Purgatory remains in ruins though there are mortals that live in this apocalyptic wasteland of a world. That also includes monsters and hunters. Over the Centuries cracks within this forgotten realm have released some of its inhabitants into the New Mortal Realm (NMR). The original bloodline of the first covens also were able to make it into this new world fleeing from Purgatory with the help of their Infernal masters. The Mortal Realm is now in the modern day where many of the Infernal or Celestial blooded mortals or beasts hide in plain sight. Even some of the most vicious have adapted to this new apparently “magic-less” world.
Note: The gates are no longer locked indefinitely for either of the two main realms; this is why demons are able to make contracts with foolish mortals. The Celestials have been forbidden from interfering for fear of repeating the past but that does not mean that they do not do so. It is rumored that around the world are organizations created to combat in secret those Infernal blooded that lurk in the dark. Meanwhile the covens are more focused on their own material pursuits having been persecuted for centuries (Salem Witch Trials as an example).
Ossibus Inferni (1920’s; NMR):
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Main Plot Synopsis: During the era of the 1920’s a young lady named Evelyn Rodgers finds herself thrown into a Hellish Civil War. She is a small PI (Private Investigator) hurting for cash and jobs in a place wrought with problems. In an effort to make a better name for herself she begins to investigate the rise of crime and strange occurrences happening in her city. There are suspicious disappearances, missing persons reports, and extra violence that couldn’t be missed by human eyes, right? It just does not seem to add up. Determined and with nothing to lose she is able to put together a series of connections by using some none to savory contacts. 
She finds out that the potential epicenter of these events are tied to owners of one of the swankiest and popular clubs in town. It is suspected that it is a speakeasy but that is not what has drawn her attention. It would appear that the family running the place have been a mystery to nearly everyone even though they have been around longer than they can recall. No one knows what the owners look like due to usually having their signature fedoras on. Ones that she can place all around the city through various photographs. It could be anyone, right?
Regardless of the information that she has collected she decides to go undercover to the club, Ossibus Ignem (Fire and Bone), in order to confirm her suspicions. She decides that auditioning for one of their most prized gigs is a good way to get into their inner circle and perhaps get a glimpse of her potential employers. Eve wants the truth and nothing but the truth though this plan is incredibly risky. Even if the brothers, as she finds out later, are not the cause of these events they could still be nefarious. No one likes a spy, especially one that’s gained their trust.
As she enters she realizes that it is packed like the rumors have told her. She does not get out much due to her job but she is dressed to the 9s in a beautiful dress of the time ready to put her plan into effect. Instead of waiting around she heads to the bar where she is spotted by the seemingly charismatic bartender which she manages to strike up a conversation with. She tries to pick his brain over a drink that he generously slides her way. It would seem that the establishment is already breaking the laws of Prohibition. That much is already confirmed.
He seems like the friendly sort, platinum blonde hair and a dazzling smile. Eve being a PI calls into question how perfect he actually looks but puts the thought off. She could have sworn his eyes were far more vibrant than what was humanly possible too. When she glances at him again however they appear to be a light brown instead. Things are already strange as she continues to speak with him only to find out that he is in fact one of the brothers that work at the club. It turns out to be a family business. He introduces himself as Costello -. 
Eventually their conversation is cut short by Costello taking her to the back of the house where presumably his brother is waiting for her to do her little gig. She paces back and forth nervously in her dressing room only to not watch where she is going, running into a tall individual. His pinstripe suit, fedora, and bright red tie cause her to pause only to be greeted with a shiny golden toothed smile. The strange thing about it is that it is shaped into a fang/ canine tooth. It is a little off putting but the stranger introduces himself as the younger brother of the group, Valentine -.
This is someone that she had no doubt is in all the photographs that she had collected. Ultimately he seems nice enough telling her that if she needs anything to let him know and to take her time with her audition. He does appear to have a mischievous flirty side to him especially with her which she tries to distance herself from. He does not make that easy as she can tell he has already taken a special interest in her. 
She performs and it would seem that she has a pretty singing voice that leaves the entire crowd roaring in applause. This obviously catches the eyes of the brothers and she gets the gig. Other than a few of the accidental slip ups the boys seem fine with her being around them. She doesn’t pose any threat. After all, she is only human. 
Eve begins to enjoy her undercover position but finds herself slipping further and further away from her original objective. The - family puts her up in the loft above the club and treats her well. She learns more about them and more about the family itself. They are pretty open with what they do not even hiding the crime lord status that they are under. Being associated with the brothers is dangerous and therefore they want to make sure she understands what it means to be under the name of -. 
She is surprised by their honesty and immediately they gain her trust and vice versa. That is until she realizes why she is there in the first place. After one of her performances she manages to get into Valentine’s room, snooping around. Only to find something she wasn’t expecting of a bunch of crime mafiosos. Instead she finds arcane symbols, tomes, and various other occult items that would lead her to the conclusion that they are in fact dealing with something far beyond the mortal realm. At least that is what she thinks. 
The concern only grows when she finds a secret room with even more devilish items. One such item is a series of documents showing the various victims she had been investigating. On top of that information she finds even darker dealings then she suspected and papers scrawled with a script she has never seen before. As she turns to leave the room she freezes to hear Valentine’s voice. He is none too thrilled as he interrogates her but she can’t see his face. All she can feel are skeletal like claws at her shoulders. It’s all in her head right?
When he turns her around she is faced with him looking quite human explaining to her the predicament she now finds herself in. As her confusion grows he keeps her cornered only to be given two choices. One is that she binds her soul to him in the form of a contract and the other, death. Obviously she chooses to live. After this event she is able to see the true forms of all the Infernals in the club, having a panic moment seeing them mingling so easily with unsuspecting humans. Valentine, Luciano, and Costello are the most terrifying in form as they are skeleton looking Infernals. From then on she works in the club learning more and more about their true selves.
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shinebrite97 · 3 years
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Part 7
read part 6 here
       Yuri placed her pencil down when the first note landed on her desk, folded into a firm triangle, she carefully unfolded it, untucking corners to see Mammon's sharp handwriting.         What did Lord Diavolo want from u yesterday? Did ya get in trouble???        Yuri scoffed, quickly writing back and following his folds to return it to the original shape. Flicking it off her desk and letting it slide across the space between then until it skittered to a stop at his shoe.        He picked it up, and she stared ahead, paying half of her attention to the lecture and the other half to the discreet sound of paper unfolding.        Wouldn't you like to know, money boy?         She even went as far as to draw a winking smile. Mammon growled, baring one canine as he did so. She smiled, turning her attention back to her summoning notes.        This ain't over, human. The voice was in her head now. One of the perks of a pact, she'd found, being able to communicate telepathically.          It was great, at least, until they caught on.
         She wondered how long she'd be able to keep this secret. Did Diavolo even want it a secret? 
          There would have to be some level of PDA, she accepted that. The small amount so far had been reasonable. 
          But what about when things progress?  
          Would there be an official announcement to the house of Lamentation, would Lucifer catch them hugging at the door? Would they need to stage a kiss for someone to catch them in the act? Would it become a scandal? The demon prince dating the human exchange student a couple thousand years his junior?
          She remembered the things Diavolo said the day she agreed. He'd already had Barbatos lay the groundwork for rumors, so it wouldn't be long before some inquiries would be made and they'd be interviewed.
          "Hey, Yuri!" She perked up, suddenly snapped from her thoughts to see Beelzebub standing at her desk.
         "We're presenting." He said. She nodded, standing up and walking with him to where Mammon stood, tapping his toes and checking an imaginary watch.
         "You doin' okay, space cadet?" He asked.
          "Yeah." She replied.
          "You first, Yuri."' Beelzebub whispered.
          "Right!"
          By the end of class, Yuri exhaled a sigh of relief as she gathered her notebook and pen, starting when a gentle finger tapped her shoulder. 
          "Beel?" She asked, turning around.
          "Let's eat outside today," he said. 
          "Okay!" 
          They weren't long in the cafeteria, at least it wasn't long for Yuri to pick up a tray with boarback, rice, and soup and she waited only a few extra minutes for Beelzebub to perfect his grasp on four lunch trays each piled high with a bit of every offering.
          He walked closely behind her, guiding her out the doors and to a grassy patch in the courtyard where Diavolo's favorite mirage flower blooms caught the light of the moon in the sky. Beel didn't say a word until two of the trays were empty and pushed to the side. By the third he managed to slow down enough to start up a conversation.
          "So Yuri," he said, leaning back and crunching on a blackened apple. "Where were you last night?" 
          "I was with Lord Diavolo." She replied. 
          "Why?" 
          "He's...tutoring me." She cringed at the rise of the end of her sentence, sounding more like a question than a statement. Shaking her head, she quickly stabbed a piece of her boarback and chewed silently.
          "Okay…" he replied wearily. 
          "It's Thursday, right?" She asked after a moment. Beel nodded into a bowl of noodles now, lips curled to slurp them up.
           "I'm on dinner duty tonight," She said. "Any ideas on what I should make?"
           "So you're actually going to be home tonight?" Beel sassed back. "No tutoring tonight?"
          "Leave me be!" She squeaked. Beelzebub smiled, poking her side. 
          "How about we go shopping after class," he said. "I'll even help you in the kitchen tonight." 
          Ending the day with Devildom History, knowing she was going shopping with Beelzebub afterwards, was a new kind of hell for Yuri and her lack of attention span. 
          But as she opened her notebook to a clean page, she noticed the last page of writing from the night before. Filled from top to bottom with her handwriting, small print to fit more information per line, names of the last ten generations of Lord Diavolo's family tree. His handwriting mixed with hers, adding tidbits or spellings when she'd messed up, and helpful pronunciations for when she met these relatives. 
          It put a new sense of purpose in her concentration. Even this boring history class could boost her royalty training.
         She opened to a clean page, taking out a few pens in case one ran out midway through, and wrote down every word she could process.
Devildom politics, origins of street names, the original bartering system, myths about the previous crowned kings. 
           She'd take it all to Diavolo the next time she saw him, hoping to get more explanations over dinner or tea. 
When do I see him again, anyway?
            Yuri shook herself out of thoughts, continuing to write until her fingers cramped, shaking them out just enough to loosen it.
           The lecture had given way to discussion, as it normally did toward the end of the lesson, and some of the older demons tossed out reminiscence about Devildom in its heyday.
"Have you heard the rumors surrounding his Majesty?" Someone asked.
            "He's going to be crowned soon!" Another voice piped up. Yuri looked back, recognizing the horns on one dark eyed demon. Satan's friend, though he wouldn't admit it. Mephistopheles. A bit of a class clown, but has information on the comings and goings of everyone in the devildom. 
          "You hear that he's got a piece of ass on the side?" Someone else asked.
          "Lucky them!" 
          "Probably some succubus who's only with him for his money." 
          Or a friend who wants to see him succeed…
           She bit her tongue behind her closed lips, trying to maintain her poker face as her classmates unknowingly called her a floozie. 
            "Now now, that's enough." The instructor said. "We have more to cover…"
          That class couldn't have ended any sooner. Yuri sighed as she packed up her books, shoulder the black messenger bag Satan had bought her back when she returned, she looked up when Beelzebub entered her line of vision.
          "C'mon, before Mammon spots us." He winked, extending an arm for her to hold onto, leading her out the door and down the hall to the main entry.
          They snacked on crepes while they shopped, Beelzebub dropped things into the basket, taking it from Yuri when it became too heavy for her to hold, and took her hand once he'd finished his snack.
          "Beel!" She squeaked. "Why are you tapping my palm? It tickles!" She squirmed to break free of his hold, but he tapped her once more and then lifted her up by the waist, carrying her like a sack of flour and listened to that bright giggle as he swung her around. 
          "Okay, put me down!" She huffed. "I know your strong." 
          "You're cute Yuri," he smiled. "Like a stuffed animal."
          "A stuffed animal with bones that are digging into my skin!" 
          Beel laughed as he entered the checkout line, easing her onto her feet.
         On solid ground, Yuri took a moment to check her DDD, seeing some new devilgram posts, a part time job application for Hell's Kitchen, and a new text.
          "It's...Lord Diavolo," she said.
          "Missing a tutoring session?" Beel asked. 
          "We didn't have anything planned today." She mumbled.
          Please come to the student council office first thing tomorrow morning. 
          Yuri's heart sank. His words felt so formal and distant, worlds different from the Diavolo the night before. 
          Yes sir.
          She clicked the device off and stood silently beside Beelzebub who moved up as the line shortened, taking a moment to glance down at her.
          "Hey," he said softly. "What's going on?"
          "I don't know." He replied. "He just said to go to the student council office tomorrow morning."
          "Do you want one of us to go with you?" He asked.
          "I should be fine," she said. "It might be about tutoring."
          "Sure." 
                                           - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
          There wasn't much else said as they returned to the House of Lamentation, and Yuri knew it was mainly because he was more focused on getting dinner prepared and eating again instead of how awkward things became in line when she clammed up talking about Diavolo.
          They worked side by side, her holding up spoonfuls of simmering sauce or chopsticks with dark venison to give Beel a taste and letting him add seasonings as he liked. 
          What followed was a typically rowdy meal where everyone noticed how quiet she was, and as the meal wound down, and Leviathan took to the kitchen for cleanup, Yuri noticed that Lucifer stayed behind. Nursing a cup of black coffee and reading a ledger. 
          "Yuri," he said. "I wanted to ask you about your day." 
          "It was fine," she said. "How about yours?" 
          "Busy," he replied. "But I couldn't help but notice that you've barely said a word since you've returned. Not even Mammon and his obnoxious behavior got a reaction from you. So what's wrong?"
          "I don't know…" 
          "I am assuming this has to do with Lord Diavolo," he said. "I'm a smart being, Yuri, you have plenty of tells when something is bothering you, and the other night was out of character for both of you."
           "With all due respect, Lucifer. I'm not really sure how much I'm allowed to say right now."
          "And that response only worries me more."
          "I know you are only trying to keep me alive," she said. "So I can tell you this much. I'm fine. I'm safe. Lord Diavolo wouldn't hurt me, and that's not what's happening."
          "I don't like being left out of things," he said. "Especially when it comes to Lord Diavolo or a member of my household. And as you fall into one of those categories, this is very disconcerting."
          "I'm sorry, Lucifer," She said. "I will explain everything once I have permission to."
          "Humans are so strange." He mused. "Such a code of honor to them, and a will that is unbelievably fragile. I wonder if I could use my power on you faster than you could use yours on me." 
          "Or you could just trust me." 
          One thin black brow rose over those ruby eyes, ND after a moment the mood shifted, the tension dissolved, and Yuri smiled. His face softened and the corner of his lip lifted into a smirk.
          Their dynamic had become way more of a power balance since she returned. She chose to believe it was his love language. 
          "Well, I see you are not the lost little lamb you once were," He said. "You never fail to amuse me, Yuri. But I suppose I can grant you this. You have the rest of this week to settle things and then I expect an answer for this strange behavior." 
          "Thanks, Lucifer."
          Diavolo stood facing the open window in his bedroom in his robe, gazing more at his DDD than the glistening moon outside. 
          Yes sir. 
          The text seemed so cold. So unlike Yuri. No emojis or cute stickers. 
          And since when does she call me sir? 
          He wanted to see her again, but didn't want to seem overbearing. He'd gotten a call that day about an interview for his upcoming celebrations, and to introduce this special someone who'd stolen his heart. 
          It was the first of many interviews, steps to take in order to advance seamlessly.
          This was where their acting mattered. The make or break for this plan. 
          But now it seemed she was angry. What had happened during the day to garner such a response?
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