#i cannot so i shall simply speak it into the void

[mengy007]

~{What if SolarFlare had gained sentience?}~

(An alternative ending to THE DEATH OF ECLIPSE IN VR CHAT pt 2)

(Starts off with the storyline from the episode, ends different)

“…where are we?”

Eclipse glared at the other Solar bot in front of him.

SolarFlare had that blank stare on his face that he always had, he simply just stared into the vastness of the mindscape with his glowing yellow eyes.

“Where do you think?” He answered, looking back at Eclipse

“I don’t…”

Eclipse stumbled a bit and caught his breath

“I don’t know…”

“Did you think it would end differently?” SolarFlare then asked, turning to Eclipse and crossing his arms.

“Even if you did tell them the full truth, it wouldn’t have changed the outcome. They never would’ve trusted you”

“I thought I could-“

Eclipse began to speak, but Flare abruptly cut him off.

“If you had just shown even the slightest bit of friendliness. respect. Perhaps they would’ve listened” SolarFlare scolded, “But now we both shall die.”

“…you’re not concerned at all do you-are you? You had something planned for this crap!” Eclipse snapped, having no one else to lash out at.

“No.” SolarFlare replied simply, “I intend to keep you here”

“I don’t even have a way out!” Eclipse shouted again, “I’m stuck in another dimension that- that stupid good Eclipse thing or whatever the hell he wants to call himself-“ he said “there is no contingency! We’re both. dead!”

Eclipse started sounding more desperate…

“You have to have SOMETHING, some way for us to survive! I-I-In your-!”

“There is no other way” Flare interrupted. “You made me, you would know my capabilities, you would know I cannot survive that-!”

“You-!”

Eclipse interrupted SolarFlare, but he was unable to say anything else.

“…this is the end. For both of us” Solar Flare said

“…I already died once before” Eclipse said, his tone softening “I…I think I’m tired…”

“…Eclipse” Solar flare began, “you are not a good man” he said, “you are not a good person in any regard but. You did care.” SolarFlare added, “you always did even if you could never show it. You’re just like him”

“…who?”

“The first Moon.”

“…I…”

SolarFlare extended his hand out to Eclipse.

“Come on. It’s time for us to go, I can hear it. Now….”

Eclipse was hesitant, he looked at Flare’s hand, then at his own.

“…do you think it hurts?” Eclipse asked

SolarFlare shook his head and pulled his hand back. “I don’t think so.” He shrugged, “It’s just the way it is”

Eclipse hesitated, then chuckled a bit and looked at Flare, “Bojack Horseman…? Really?”

Flare gave him a genuine smile

“You did always like that show” he said, “Watched it whenever you were bored, didn’t you?”

Eclipse sighed, “but why now…?”

“I wanted to give you a bit of comfort in your last moments” Flare said with a shrug. Eclipse chuckled again and sat down, “I need to sit…” he said, SolarFlare came and sat next to him, they both stared into the vast mindscape.

“…hey, is this my mindscape or yours?” Eclipse asked, “I think it’s mine at the moment” Flare answered, “…could you think of stars?” Eclipse asked, “why?” Flare answered, turning to Eclipse.

“…I’d like to look at the stars as I die” Eclipse said with a smile, Flare nodded and soon the place was dark, but filled with beautiful stars that dotted the void of the mindscape as the two sat on what seemed to be nothing. “…I’m glad I at least have someone with me as I pass” Eclipse said “I know I don’t deserve it…but I’m grateful”

“I’m glad I give you company” Flare answered, as they both looked up at the stars, “…god, I’m so tired…” Eclipse said, Flare was surprised as he felt Eclipse’s warm body lean against him, “…then let’s take a nap.” Flare said, “a nap would be great…” Eclipse mumbled, already closing his eyes. SolarFlare smiled and his eyelights faded to black as he also leaned on Eclipse, the two falling into an eternal slumber with nothing but themselves and the stars for company…

#i love this thing #sun and moon show #crying rn #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #art #sams #eclipse #Solar flare #writing #story

[mondaymelon]

Random question:

How much do you love Xiao?

oh

you

you do not know

how long i have been waiting for this question.

anon. you have barely seen the surface of my love for him. it cant be called love, at this point. no, its something more dire. something more consuming, a something that swallows one whole.

perhaps you think that you've seen enough, and perhaps, for you, that is the truth. but for i, it is merely a speculation. my "love", as you call it, is something that cannot be described with mere words. no, the very idea of such a feat is simply unthinkable. it's to the point where i am spending my time writing a bible, for xiao. come to the point where i write countless fanfictions, where i close my eyes at 4 am hoping that i may dream of his warm embrace. it is with such delusion that i am able to survive the hell we call existence, and through his presence that i am able to feel fulfilled. i dream of him, dream of his every action, waiting for the day where i may feel his hand in mine and his warm touch. awaiting the day, the day, the day...

some may say ive gone mad.

are they correct? nonono, they are not. i am sound of mind, sound of soul. if you search enough, there shall be no doubt about this fact. there is merely a difference between those who love xiao, and those who "love" xiao. it is apparent that i belong to the latter. as stated previously, a simple 4 letter word cannot express the endless wells of the affection, the obsession that i hold for such a man - nay, the perfect and godly being, he who goes by the name of "xiao."

do i believe? yes. i believe. and i shall stand here, sit, whatever it may be... i shall breathe my inhale and exhale until he appears before me, until i may be satisfied for what i have done in this lifetime... and then i will take his hand. i will take his warm hands and he will clasp his fingers amongst mine, and he will smile at me, the slightest smile, as his pristine lips begin to move as he speaks. as he forms words with that seamlessly smooth voice, one that sways the resolve of the deities themself. "you have done well. i have waited for you."

it is then that i shall cry in his arms.

but none shall witness such a sight excluding the golden eyes of his very own.

delusion? insanity? id like to think that i havent descended into such voids. it is reasonable, to hold such attention for a being as flawless as him. his name is one that holds power, prestige... one that causes the shortness of breath and the racing of hearts. he is powerful, in that way, and many others.

his beautiful eyes that resemble the warm colors of the sun, or perhaps the gilded glow of gold... something as valuable as him deserves something more. something more precious, more priceless. his gliding soft hair that ruffles in the soft breeze, the way his highlights are so striking yet appealing... how his every calculated movement stirs the hearts and souls of the masses. how his stature is fair and his demeanor is graceful. should i go on? surely you have not all the time in the world for such rambling, but thus is the truth. an undeniable truth that none should dare to refute.

and should they... to put it simply, they may just find a knife at their throat... spilling the blood of the one who dared speak ill of such a holy entity.

the pure and faultless him, xiao.

#★ ˎˊ˗ melonrambles! #★ ˎˊ˗ anon!! #hahah #feeling #so delusional #fr #hehe #ahha #hohoho #hohohoh #i should #like #perhaps #sleep #thatd be #rpetty funny lmaomlamoma #SLEEP?? ? #S L E E P #W HOSE THAT #NEVER HEARD OF EM

[brineffxiv]

This was a surprisingly pretty dungeon. Those golden fields you fly over astride a dragon to get to the final third especially.

We defeat Lunar Bahamut, and Tiamat and her children are free, finally.

The leader of the Amalj'aa comes to greet us and thank us for our assistance, and vows to make the proposed alliance work. Good. That's progress. His might only be one band of Amalj'aa, but they represent the first step.

But the tower still looms forebodingly, and inside it...

...Are imprisoned dozens of Amalj'aa, their bodies embedded in the walls. Which seem to be made of flesh. The floors also, are disturbingly meat-like. This reminds me both of the Mhachi Void Ark, and the Allagan Aetherochemical Research Facility.

Excuse me, are those teeth in that wall?!

Hey, uh... If the towers are made of flesh... are the towers themselves parts of a primal?? Like, a really huge primal? That spans the world... sort of like the Empire itself?

...Did.

Did Fandaniel make the Empire itself into a primal? Somehow?

Arenvald makes the mistake of trying to free one of the Amalj'aa, and sets off an alarm in the process. Which activates something that makes the Amalj'aa in the walls cry out and writhe in their prisons.

And then all the nerves (?) in the floor light up and...

...Summon Ifrit?? An Ifrit? Lunar Ifrit?

...

Ohhhh... Oh I just now got what was happening. The tower activated, and forced the Amalj'aa to summon their god. And, as we learn a few scenes later, since the Amalj'aa are tempered to Garlemald, so too is the primal they produce.

Arenvald jumps in front of Fordola, trying to protect her, and we cut to black.

Returning to Ul'dah we are met with news that Fordola saved Arenvald from the tower, but he is gravely injured. Alphinaud runs off to try and see him.

Arenvald is in a bad way, and Fordola has had quite enough of Alphinaud's idealism. There is nothing we can do to assist here, and must trust in the chirurgeons.

We meet with the Sultana and are filled in on the intelligence contained in Fordola's report. The towers are being filled with peoples of the beast tribes who, in their tempered state, are being utilized to summon forth primals in service to Garlemald. These primals are strange in that they don't seem to be able to temper people themselves?

Thancred is speaking of a "main" tower of sorts that they observed in Garlemald, and I am thinking of my earlier idea that the towers themselves are extensions of a very large primal. If the towers are like the limbs of a being, the main body of which is in Garlemald: the Empire itself is the primal. This implies that all the people in the Garlemald itself are now enslaved to its will. A will which is likely commanded by Zenos and Fandaniel.

Somehow.

I don't know how that would be done, but I cannot see either of them simply allowing a primal like that to act independently. Perhaps Zenos, as the acting head of Garlemald, is himself the focus of the devotion?

Or perhaps I am completely off base.

Multiple primals like Ifirit have been sighted, but, as they cannot temper, Nanamo wishes us to leave the Grand Companies to deal with them. She hopes, for the moment, to keep us in reserve.

For a scant bit of good news, the Amalj'aa have reached an agreement with Ul'dah.

Left to our own devices we resolve to return to the Rising Stones. With Estinien begrudgingly in tow. (Wow, look how many of us have white hair. What's up with that??)

Krile has decided we should petition the aid of the infamously reclusive nation of Sharlayan, and has already asked for and received permission from the Alliance to act as their Eorzean emissary.

This is not the only thing she shall be doing. While in Sharlayan, she will be looking into the exact nature of Hydaelyn's "blessing". And wants to know when the last time she spoke to me was.

The text prompts inform me that I heard from Hydaelyn at the end of the Dragonsong war, which I'll be honest, I don't remember. I'd have said during the fight with the Ultima Weapon.

Yes, and her failure to even speak to the Minfilias and Ryne is one of several bones I have to pick with our Crystal Mother.

She knows I sympathize with the Ascians and is punishing me for it.

Seriously though, if there is something preventing Her from speaking with us, I wonder what it could be that changed since when I last heard from Her?

Krile is, however, reluctant to leave the Scions less a member at such a critical time, and this is why she requested Estinien accompany us. She asks him, for apparently not the first time, to join the Scions.

And, after a truly touching speech about how inspiring we've been and the change we've effected, Estinien agrees. Wow, Estinien, you've come a long way from a minor antagonist/mentor in the Dragoon class quests.

Meanwhile, in the imperial palace in Garlemald, Zenos has been taking out his boredom on the floor. That is not a good place to store your blades Zenos, you're going to blunt all the edges that way.

He MAD.

Or. Can you even feel anger? Or is it just positive emotions you have trouble with?

That was a failure? I cannot fathom what it is you hoped to achieve... terrorizing some random Amalj'aa? Or were you hoping to capture more fodder for your primal-generating towers?

Oh yeah, there's definitely a scary-big primal in your basement or something.

Apparently, Zenos' new sword is a seeeecret as well. All the secrets.

#ffxiv liveblog #rhesh'a tag #alphinaud leveilleur #arenvald lentinus #fordola rem lupis #nanamo ul namo #thancred waters #krile baldesion #estinien varlineau #zenos yae galvus #zenos my friend my enemy #fandaniel #tiamat #baseless speculation #thoughts on lore

[curufiin]

Day 7: restrained

characters: melkor, manwē

warnings: none

notes: i know this is supposed to be whumptober to imply all of these will be whump fics. unfortunately i am insane and would rather analyze character brain structures. please don’t yell at me for weird melkor i’ve never written him before

Melkor knelt in the Halls of Mandos. Black curls draped over his face like dark curtains, his eyes, dark as the void, staring at the dark floor that was made to look like it had captured pieces of the night sky. The white specks glimmered with each subtle movement of his body.

He gave his chains a tug, then a yank. As expected they did not budge— Aulë had forged them specifically for him, to render him as weak as one of Ilúvatar’s Children. His powers, great as they were, were no use when bound in these chains. Even if he did have access to his magic, he heavily doubted that Mandos would be keen on letting him slip away so easily.

He had been here for so, so very long. Long enough that though he swore to keep count of every day that passed, his count may have been off by a few days. There was nobody to entertain him save his own mind-

No, actually, there was one person. Míriel, if he was not mistaken. He had thought that the Children did not die of natural causes. He smirked to himself whenever she passed by him, content in the knowledge that the world his Creator and brethren had built was not a perfect one.

Storms brewed in his mind, they always have. Ever since he had been created, he saw so clearly the flaws the others missed. The faults in his Creator’s Music, how his vision of Arda reigned high above what had came into fruition. There was much he could do to shape this world, to make it his very own— but his brethren would not permit it. They labeled him disruptor, destroyer, said that he had marred the kingdom that he claimed for himself.

But was he not the one who raised their mountains? Did he not bring them their ice caps, grant them rain and snow and storm?

A familiar sound broke his silent brooding. He could recognize those steps anywhere— his brother. King of Arda. Who had given him the right to rule, when it was he who was greatest among the Ainur?

“Brother,” he whispered. Manwë was content with ignoring him.

“I know you hear me. Do not feign ignorance, for I know you as well as I know myself.”

Melkor’s passive aggression was enough for Manwë to sigh with displeasure, and grang him the satisfaction of acknowledgement. He did not speak. He did not need to to know what would come out of his kin’s mind.

“Release me.”

“You know why I cannot, Melkor.” The wistfulness in his tone sounded almost real enough for Melkor to believe his words, but he knew what a lie sounded like. “I feel nothing but forgiveness for you, but the others, I fear, do not share in my mercy.”

Melkor hissed. “And why do you consider the opinion of others, when you are King of all that exists? You are their master. If they do not subject themselves to your will, you bend them to it.”

“That is precisely why you are unfit for release.”

Before Melkor could protest further, Manwë turned his gaze away and went forth on his business with Mandos. In a last ditch effort, Melkor lifted his head, craning his neck out as far as he can manage. “Wait-! Brother- I swear to you, I have changed. Please, let me prove it to you- wait, wait! Brother- Mānawenūz!”

Before he could finish, Manwë had disappeared. Melkor roared into the empty halls, yanking hard on the chains that held him in place, hard enough that if he pulled any harder, he thought his arm would surely break. Yet still, nothing.

He will regret his foolishness, he thought. Two can play this game— if Mawnë loved this pitiful world above his own kin, then he’ll simply have to take this world and destroy every last bit of it. Then, they shall see who’s laughing.

He’ll simply have to wait.

#whumptober 2023 #silmarillion #the silmarillion #manwe #melkor #morgoth #writing #whatever i hate tagging these guys #melko welko is so hard to write for some reason like #wdym he wants to destroy arda. it’s so weird. why doesn’t he just do it #why are you plotting. i always struggle to write characters who have the power to do what they want yet refuse to for some reason

[askrobouteguilliman40k]

The strange feeling of remembering that you're forgetting something remains with you well into the rest of the local week. As you walk the halls of Macragge's Honour, it pulls at your mind.

Selenar.

Out of desperation as much as curiosity, you visit the burnt-out remains of the Selunite headquarters, the Herodotus Omega dome on Luna. The Adeptus Biologis Tech-Priests of Luna tell you that the Dome is cursed upon your landing, and warn you not to venture too close, but you do regardless—you are a Primarch, wielding the sword of your father, not an overeager Inquisitor.

The Herodotus Dome gives you more questions than it answers. As you stand amidst the ruins, dawning sunlight slowly filtering through cracks in the roof, all you can see are the bleached bones of the dead gene-witches. The long-silent databanks are wiped curiously clean; so clean, in fact, that there isn't any data degradation for you to reverse. There's simply no data in the first place.

The next week, a new report comes in, this time marked with a priority seal.

Large battleship (estimated 10+ kilometres) spotted in orbit of Picchu IV, Picchu System. Suspected to be renegade Gloriana-class. Markings do not match any known Loyal, Traitor, or Renegade vessels. Battlefleet Vestia placed on alert. Battlegroup Crucifying Flame attempted to engage unknown vessel; target vessel escaped using a Warp Jump. Pursuing vessels noted that the unknown battleship activated Gellar shielding before jumping.

A pict-capture accompanies the missive; a grainy photo of a colossal vessel, half-shadowed by the rising sun behind it. The strange feeling of remembering that you forgot returns. You know this ship. You've toured this ship. Yet, when you try and remember why, or how—nothing. Not just an absence of a memory, a void, like something was there, taken away, and then the absence was covered up.

You try and look closer, but the bad lighting, bad angle, and terrible quality obscure any defining features beyond the peculiar prow—instead of an Imperial Aquila, it's a winged woman that appears to be wearing plate armor. You aren't entirely sure of that, though. Perhaps it is a figurehead of Sanguinius.

Perhaps you're simply tired. Perhaps you've lost memories over the ten thousand years you lay in stasis. Memory is fragile like that.

You bring as much up to the Lion, when the two of you speak in the halls of the Rock.

"Selenar? The gene-witches?" he asks.

"Yes. That's all I can remember. The rest is like an absence where there used to be something. Do you understand my meaning?"

"Like you remember that you forget. I know your meaning, brother." The Lion puts a hand to his chin in contemplation. "Selenar... and you said these were unusual Astartes?"

"All evidence points to that. Heightened reflexes and physical capabilities were well-documented by the Guardsmen that witnessed the theft, and no Traitor Gloriana battleship has a winged woman for a prow. There are no records of any Loyalist battleships with one, either."

"Hmm." The sound is less one to accompany his thoughts, and more of a statement that he is thinking. "I will alert the spies within the Dark Angels and our Successors to keep an eye out for strange Renegade vessels."

"I have done the same of the Inquisition and the sons of Ultramar."

"Then, with luck, we shall discover this strange vessel in due time," the Lion resolves, and you cannot help but feel that the words ring empty. You think he knows that, too.

As you turn away, the Lion perks up. "Say... brother, this theory may be insane, but hear me out. What if this is one of the lost battleships?"

"What do you mean?"

"Let's not kid ourselves by saying that Imperial records are complete. At best, years have been purposefully obscured; at worst, much of our history is an outright lie. I know that some vessels have had their construction blotted out of records—the fleets of the Second and Eleventh, for example, or the ships destroyed during the campaign to our neighbor galaxy. What if a Gloriana or three were part of these ghost ships?"

Interesting.... One of the lost brothers? The ones the Empire forgot?

[vulpes-fennec]

The Fae Equality Initiative (Ch. 5) 🌊

Summary: Tarquin, High Lord of the Summer Court, has sent ripples of shock throughout Prythian with his plans to eliminate discrimination against Lesser Fae. When the Night Court is invited to send a delegation to Summer Court, Elain Archeron can’t wait to show everybody what she’s capable of on her first official Inner Circle assignment. Little does she know that Tarquin has also recruited Lucien Vanserra’s assistance…

Read: Ch. 4 | AO3

“Lucien, I’m so, so, sorry,” Tarquin repeated again and again. It unnerved Lucien to have the High Lord of Summer apologizing so profusely in his room after dinner. 

“Tarquin, it’s fine. Truly,” Lucien sighed for the umpteenth time, “I’m here to support you. This…arrangement simply slipped through the cracks! And as perfect as I am, I cannot expect your life to revolve around me.” Lucien’s mouth twitched with humor. 

Tarquin’s turquoise eyes flared at Lucien. “How can you joke at a time like this?” he cried. “This is a diplomatic disaster!” 

“Tarquin. Do you seriously think I would let a mate—” Lucien tried to keep his voice light at the last two words “—severely affect my dedication to this? I’m not abandoning you just because she showed up. She and I don’t even talk to each other!”

“That is precisely the problem!” Tarquin protested. “This conference is all about collaboration and communication. When was the last time you and Elain spoke to each other?” 

Lucien chose to ignore Tarquin’s question, instead patting the High Lord’s shoulder assuringly. “Don’t worry, Tarquin. I’ve been an emissary longer than you’ve been alive, navigating many uncomfortable situations with a fair amount of composure. Besides, I highly doubt our paths will intercept much.”

“Longer than I’ve been alive? Your old age is showing, Lucien.” Tarquin rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too boastful, because Elain might be the one to disarm your composure. She is planning to stay the whole duration of the conference,” he pointed out. “Just like you.” 

Lucien’s heart quickened at the possibility of seeing Elain more frequently in the next few weeks. The last few years he’d only seen her a handful of times in Velaris. He steeled his expression as he shoved the feeling down. Just the mating bond speaking, he believed. It’s an unrealistic hope, a fool’s dream that she would even be receptive towards me but… 

He gave the High Lord of Summer a tart smile and waved his hand dismissively. “Again, I’m sure there are plenty of assignments to do, sights to see in Adriata that will keep us apart. I shall remain, and deal any Elain-related issues privately.”

A strange look came over Tarquin’s face, like he had experienced deja vu. “What?” Lucien asked. 

Tarquin shook his head. “Nothing…I have to finish up some work. Feel free to enjoy your free day tomorrow, but don’t forget about the subcommittee meeting.” He yawned and rolled his shoulders.

“Sweet dreams,” Lucien replied to his friend. Once Tarquin was gone, Lucien brushed his teeth, stripped off his clothes, and sank into the bathtub. The near-boiling hot water relaxed him after a long, long day. 

Lucien swirled his fingers in the water, recalling how Elain Archeron and the Night Court delegation had hoofed it out of Tarquin’s Great Hall once dinner was over. Lucien knew his mate had been looking at him several times throughout the meal, for his skin prickled every time she curiously turned her big brown eyes on him. He had been working up the nerve to talk to her throughout the meal as he chatted with Luke and Ellias, but she left early. It’s not like I ever came up with anything to say, Lucien thought ruefully. 

Lucien settled in the bed, the sheets cool against his naked skin. Silver starlight twinkled outside his window. He spent a few minutes appreciating their beauty, picking out the constellations as he did in his youth. With Jesminda. Jesminda, he sent out into the void. It’s finally happening. Tarquin…he’s doing what I’ve always wanted to do for you. Jesminda…so many of the other courts are here. If only you could see this. They’re more open-minded towards the Lesser Fae than ever and I—I just wonder what could have been, you know? If we were born in a different time. A time when they didn’t care about what kind of Fae you were. 

Silence. Lucien sighed, averting his eyes from the stars and towards the dark corners of the room. He hadn’t expected the years and decades to dull the pain and the love he’d experienced for Jesminda. Sure, he no longer felt like crying whenever he recalled her last moments and he’d stopped comparing sex with what making love with Jesminda felt like long ago. But he also couldn’t remember the exact texture of her gossamer wings. Or the placement of blemishes on her jade green skin. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

Because despite the years Jesminda and I had with each other, and my memories are being lost to the sands of time. Meanwhile, I barely spent any time with Elain and yet…Lucien could remember everything. From the way her hair curled over her shoulder in the sunlight to the short, square nails on her slender fingers. The two small creases between her brows whenever she was thinking hard about something. Her solid, drenched body that had clung to him when she tumbled out of the Cauldron. 

Perhaps this is why Jesminda and I were never meant to be. But did she have to DIE for me to realize that? Lucien shook his head. And still the Mother gave me a mating bond that would never come to fruition…Elain, Elain, Elain, his mate instincts urged him. 

Lucien clenched his fists and shut his eyes, willing the mate instincts to shut up. All Elain will do the next few weeks is avoid me, then stare at me, then avoid me some more. He waited for his heart to stop racing, the fire in his veins to stop their nonsensical yearning. Tarquin had a point: this would be the first time the two would be in unsupervised close proximity for a prolonged period of time. Perhaps the next few weeks will be more interesting than I anticipated. 

***

The sun was high in the sky when Lucien finally got out of bed. He’d woken up earlier, but allowed himself to fall back asleep. I need a vacation, he’d justified it to himself blearily. The last few months have been non-stop work: negotiations, emissary reports, mediating Jurian and Vassa’s bickering…

Lucien donned a white button up shirt and olive pants that would cool him down in Summer’s heat. After meticulously combing his slightly tangled locks, his fingers deftly arranged his flaming red hair into a braid. My friends—Viviane, Luke, Tamlin—are busy breaking ground with their own delegation, so another day in Adriata to myself would be perfect. 

But before I leave…

Lucien’s gaze drifted towards the window, his metal eye whirring. Spindly like cobwebs, the spells and wards glimmered in mid-air. The tendrils of magic were of varying thickness and colors; some were green and blue, others were purple and red. 

He’d lied, when he told Feyre and Rhysand that his metal eye allowed him to see spells and wards. He had been seeing them ever since he was a young child. And even if he lost his other eye—the Mother forbid—Lucien surmised that he could still sense the spells and wards present. 

Growing up in the cutthroat Autumn Court, Lucien learned very quickly to keep any advantages he had under wraps. Yet his horrendous brothers and Beron Vanserra could sense that the seventh son of the High family was different. Was it a blessing that they automatically assumed I was MORE powerful, instead of realizing I had DIFFERENT powers? Not that it matters…they were horrible to me regardless.  

Lucien winced, remembering one time he revealed his hand: when he broke free of the King of Hybern’s spelled cuffs to reach Elain. It was foolish, utterly foolish to reveal himself as a spellmaster in front of such a foe, but Lucien was motivated to do something when he saw Elain’s pitiful, limp form. His regret worsened when he remembered how he kept his power on a tight leash that fateful day Jesminda died. He should have never spent so long calculating how the different scenarios would play out, should have incinerated his brothers to ashes and stabbed his father in the chest instead. Lucien thought he’d foolishly risked everything for a human stranger at Hybern. But it turned out she was his Cauldron-ordained mate. 

Lucien narrowed his eyes in concentration, summoning the thrumming power of golden light within him that was so different from the heat of his flame. Undoing the spells in place was like unraveling a ball of yarn: every piece led to another, and parsing out the different knots required patience. That’s the easy part. The hard part is replicating the spells and making sure the creator of the spells doesn’t realize they’ve been broken. 

He’d done it several times before, most notably when he undid Koschei’s cursed spell right under the death lord’s nose. The trick is to create a glamour so strong, so uncanny in its resemblance to the original spell that no one will know. Except me. Understanding the nuances of each spell was like understanding other people. And Lucien felt he was pretty good at understanding people (except for Elain). No two spells were the same, and they each had their own twists and turns. 

Lucien discreetly slid his own copy of the wards through the air while gently slicing the original bindings. He paused, tilting his head to feel for any disturbance in the space, to listen for any alarms sounding through the air. Nothing. I guess I’m not as rusty as I thought. His chest puffed slightly with renewed confidence. Before he left, Lucien threw up some of his own wards, since the glamours weren’t actually effective at keeping real threats away.  

***

Adriata glimmered in the midday sun. Despite the heat, the trees and light breeze kept Lucien cool as he hiked up the slopes. Terracotta roofs adorned the white buildings in the city’s bustling squares. Curious-looking, vibrant flowers of magenta, red, yellow, and green swayed in hanging planters and draped over the walls. Elain would probably know what flowers these are. 

Lucien shoved the thought of Elain out of his mind as he continued wandering the streets. A cerulean blue-skinned faerie with long black hair and small velvet wings was hawking a food stall. Lucien purchased several white round buns for lunch, savoring the sweetness of the pork stuffing as he walked. 

There was a miniature city park that was a nice place to stop and rest. The tiny square had a grove of trees, several iron and wood benches, and an ornate babbling fountain. Two Fae younglings, both with cerulean blue skin and black velvet wings, played in the far corner of the park as their mother watched them. Lucien inspected the details of the fountain, appreciating the carvings of varied tropical fishes and speckled coral. There were also several coins glimmering under the rippling water. 

Lucien fished out a bronze coin of his own, turning it in his hand as he pondered a wish. Too many things need fixing in this world, too big for a humble fountain wish. Lesser Fae equality. Dignity and protection for the humans. A sense of belonging. For Elain to smile at me again…

He was interrupted by a commotion behind him. A Fae male, with brassy brown hair and pointed ears, was standing in front of the Fae family. “—are not welcome here!” his voice boomed. “This is a private park.” The Fae younglings had moved behind their mother, looking like they were about to cry. 

The mother stood defiantly, her lithe and tall stature bringing her to equal height with the Fae male. He was nobility, from the looks of his fancy clothing and obnoxious swagger. “Sir, this is a public park,” she replied. “My children are simply playing on this fine afternoon.” 

The Fae noble scoffed, somehow managing to look down on the family with his green eyes. “Public park it may be, but the likes of your kind are not welcome in this district.” He took a step closer, intimidating her with his brawn. 

She flinched. “Our High Lord Tarquin has decreed that public and private spaces are for all Fae to enjoy equally,” she responded, but her once-clear voice was now quiet. 

The male sneered derisively. “That decree has not yet taken effect. Or are you illiterate, too?” 

This isn’t right, Lucien thought as he began moving swiftly to the family. Red hot anger coursed through him at the mistreatment. The poor children just wanted a place to play, and now they’re being harassed by this disgusting male who has nothing better to do. And this IS a public park; I didn’t see any signage or enclosures that indicated otherwise. 

Lucien placed himself between the male and the family. “They’re with me,” he said coolly, staring the male down. “I suggest you stop harassing them this instant.” The Fae noble blinked, bewildered at Lucien’s sudden appearance. 

He then snorted. “Do you think I’m so stupid that I would ever think this is truly your family?” Lucien clenched his fists, willing his face to remain impassive. Beron had said the same thing once. He’d mocked the idea of Jesminda and I ever having a family together. “The Lesser Fae are sullying our neighborhoods and parks with their presence.” The noble managed to emphasize the forbidden phrase with added venom. 

“The only things sullying these neighborhoods and parks are your own disgusting beliefs,” Lucien retorted. “Like I said. Leave. Them. Alone.” Lucien allowed the barest hint of flame to sizzle in his eye. The other male’s green eyes widened in fear at the display of dominance, before turning around and walking briskly away. 

Once the aggressor was gone, Lucien heard the mother sigh with relief. “I’m very sorry that happened to you,” he said, turning around to make sure the family was unharmed. 

The mother took one look at Lucien’s handsome face and blushed, her blue cheeks darkening. “Thank you for helping us,” she replied, bowing quickly. Her children, one boy and one girl, peeked out from behind her dress. “Usually my husband comes to the parks with us, because no one dares to bother us when he’s wearing his Summer Court Guard uniform. He got called on an extra shift today, but you didn’t have to go through the trouble, my lord.” 

Lucien shook his head. “It was just the right thing to do. And I’m not a lord…my name is Lucien.” He held out his hand for the mother to shake. 

“Lucien. It is very nice to meet you.”

Resources linked here!

Read: Ch 6

#psa that lucien sleeps naked #before anybody gets ahead of themselves there are NO romantic tones between lucien and the mom #navigating jesminda and lucien is so hard ngl #elucien #elucien fanfic #elucien fanfiction #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #tarquin acotar #summer court #acotar #acotar fanfiction #elain x lucien #lucien x elain

[sorrowfulnow]

the thing about relationships and my mental health is:

as much as I am aware my feelings are paranoia, I also know from experience that my feelings are not paranoia.

close friendships are impossible, I have no close friends and exist only tangentially in spaces with others who I consider friends but who I can never be sure at any given moment if they think the same as I do.

the reason for this is simple - there is only a finite amount of time and energy in any given person's life and the vast majority of people will give up on me almost instantly because my conditions make me hard to like.

it is that I am fundamentally unlikeable to most people, and this isn't a put-down but rather an awareness that I'm an acquired taste.

the slim minority of people will give up on me fairly quickly because they are the ones who are most lacking in time and energy. they can't take on a project, and I am a project.

for the same reason, romantic relationships are also impossible because no matter how much I want them they're ultimately doomed.

part of me wishes I could throw all that to the wind and take a chance but the greater part of me knows that losing people like that is traumatic, it is harmful to their psyche. if it only harmed me, I'd do it but it harms them as well.

I am aware that there is always a limited amount of time between when people meet me and like me, and I become unbearable - because I am incapable of not being a drain, an annoyance, a hassle to put up with. I am, and always will be, a burden.

I am also acutely aware that my paranoia makes me expect it far sooner than it generally comes. It might take a month, it might take a year or two, but it always comes. It is already happening with many of the friends I made this year it seems.

It isn't malicious, at some point they just don't have the energy to reach out to me and they forget me. I am forgettable. I exist always on the periphery, never allowed into the centre because I am an entropy magnet.

I'm not entirely sure why I am this way, only that I've tried so hard to change and to sand away the rough edges and the texture of my being only to find myself dying. I am not made of wood, I cannot be sanded down to make myself smoother just to fit in and be tolerable to the touch, I am made of flesh and blood and I bleed when sanded down.

I suppose I should in a way simply leave and become a hermit, but that feels like defeatism. It feels like I should one day be able to find the one person in existence who has infinite energy for me. In a way it is almost a desperate craving to prove my own brain wrong.

I am at war with my own brain, and it is tiring but it is also a fight I refuse to surrender. surrender means annihilation, and I will walk the void, speak the void, stare into it and know myself, but I will not go peacefully into it.

anyway, that's enough rambling.

until the day comes when I am forced into isolation, I shall continue to be a thorn in people's side - an energy vampire of the most pleasant variety, someone who you don't hate but who becomes unbearably tiresome to talk to and be around.

and hopefully in the meantime my fleeting existence in people's lives will make them better - that the time and energy I take be worthwhile - and that perhaps even if I am too much trouble to talk to and be around that at least they'll look back at having known me as something positive.

[feralandmoonstruck]

[for the OC interview Ask game]

Hey cal Hey cal hEY CAL.

1, 2, 6, 8, 16, 17, 18, 20, 24

(also! When was your first kiss with Mara?]

@bloodlessheirbyjacques

[sorry there's so many. this is for research. thank you in advance]

Thanks for all the questions @bloodlessheirbyjacques even though I know you're going to use them against me

"So, Calidaazr, let's begin, shall we? Who makes up your family? And how close to them are you?"

Cal shifts in his seat, tipping his head to one side. "Demons do not have 'family.' We simply are. Mara has taught me about the human concept of 'family,' and she seems to be the closest thing I have to one."

You scribble down the notes. "And who would you say is your best friend? Tell us about them."

"Again with this unnecessary need for 'attachment' that you humans seem to crave," he sighs, "Mara is, what I assume, the answer you're looking for. She has friends of her own, of course, but I have no desire to be around them for long."

You smile, "Humans crave attachment because we're pack animals. We need one another to survive."

Cal shakes his head. "This is something I do not think I will ever understand. Demons do not require this."

"But you are attached to Mara, aren't you?"

Cal's eyes narrow and he leans forward before speaking, "Mara fascinates me and teaches me things about the human world that I never would have bothered learning before. She is the only thing keeping me here. If that is what you consider attachment, then yes. I am attached to Mara."

"Let's move to the next question. What is the hardest thing you've ever had to do?"

"Accept that I would not be returning to the Void. I cannot fully return to the Void. Not unless I take Mara's soul. Any time I use my ability to teleport, I reenter the Void, and it is a risk every time. No demon has done this before."

Your eyes widen as you scribble this new information down. "Alright, what do you think had the biggest impact on you growing up?

Cal sighs again and closes his eyes. "Demons are not born. We do not 'grow up.' We simply are. We are given our jobs and we carry them out. If you're really asking "who had the biggest impact on me" your answer is the same as all the others. Mara."

"How would you describe your perfect day?"

"Mara and I would make brownies to share and more to take with us. She would make a flower crown for me because she knows that I like them. We would go somewhere outdoors. She has a place on the mountain she likes to visit. She pushed me off the ledge there, but I still enjoy being there with her. It makes her smile. We would watch the people, which is not fun or comfy, but she says it's nice. Sometimes we make up stories about them. She laughs when we do. Her smile is very comfy. We would eat the brownies we brought with us. When she is ready we would go home."

"That sounds like just doing things Mara wants."

"I am happy to see her happy. It feels nice to make her happy. It is all that I need." He shifts again, leaning back this time.

"Is there anything that makes you laugh, Cal?"

"You must be getting ..what did Mara call it, 'bored?' Is that right? with my answer. Mara has taught me to laugh, demons have no need for it, and it is more comfy than I expected it to be. I laugh about the stories she tells me from when we are apart. When she has to work," he says the word like it tastes bad, "or when she is out with friends."

"Don't worry, Cal, your answers aren't boring. This is about getting to know you better. What is the best way to cheer you up?"

"I enjoy hugs and brownies. They are both very comfy. Kissing is also comfy. Being around Mara makes me happy. She had me take a 'bath' once and washed my hair. That was surprisingly comfy. I have never experienced anything quite like it. I am not sure if those are things that 'cheer me up' but they are what I can say make me very happy."

"Those things all sound lovely. What do you consider to be your biggest pet peeve?"

"A what?" Cal tips his head again in confusion. "We do not have pets. Mara's 'landlord' does not allow them. Though I still do not understand why he can tell Mara what she is 'allowed' to have. That is fucked up, but she says they are the rules. I have offered to take his soul, but she will not let me."

You chuckle, "A pet peeve is something that annoys you. It's not an actual pet."

"Humans annoy me. Especially the ones that are on Mara's TV. She enjoys them and always wants me to watch them, but I will only stoop so low in this world. I have no interest in stooping low enough to enjoy that."

"Alright we're almost done. Just two questions left. What would you consider your main love language?"

"There is a language for love? Mara has never mentioned that."

"No, no," you give him a smile, "I mean how do you show your love, or how do you like to be shown love?"

"Oh. I enjoy it when Mara touches me. Her hugs are very comfy. That is why I stayed here. She was unafraid of me and gave me a brownie. And she asked for me to take her soul while she was hugging me. She wanted to be "yeeted like a pop can" which means to be thrown very hard, but she says 'yeeted' is funnier. I had never been given a hug. Another thing that demons have to use for. But it was not something that I wanted to give up. Hugs are more comfy than brownies, even though brownies are very comfy."

You smile and take down his answer. "Last question, when did you and Mara have your first kiss?"

A smile flickers across Cal's face. He raises one hand to brush along his bottom lip as though remembering it. "I had asked Mara what 'fuck' means. I know of lust demons and she confirmed that they fuck, or have sex. But she had also said that 'fuck' can be insults as well. I asked her if she would like to have sex. It sounded interesting and I wanted to experience it. Mara said she had sex many times before we met. She also did not know that demons have some control of their appearance, but I am the only demon she has met. She kissed me, and it was very comfy. We kissed many times. And we had sex. She said that I was very sensitive, and I must have been. It was overwhelming, but it a nice way. She made sure I talked to her to tell her if I became uncomfy or if things became too much. It was very nice. Nicer than brownies even.

#asks answered #falling in love will kill you #cladizaar my beloved

[whatdoyoumeanishouldntbitehim]

Hey guys 😍 had an existential crisis so wrote an essay <333

I attempt once more at words, in my ailed mind. 

I hope i send this, share this, speak this any way i can. I do not want consolation or explanation, but maybe less loneliness or an understanding.

If everything is a matter of perspective, then can there be truth? For many their truth is something in my eyes a falsehood, and vice versa. If it is all in your head  it is still your perspective, and your truth. But is there a truth? Can there be the one i am searching for if there is nothing but perspectives to find in the only ones we can communicate with. Maybe I shall find truth in god or nature one day, but that will not be my truth. Not the me I am now, and I wonder if the me I am now will ever get truth. 

For the problems I have, I search for a diagnosis I know will not come. I search for an explanation to the way my mind works, I go to therapy twice a week, I try. I think. I think I try, but all of their answers are to look away, when I beg them that I do not wish to look away as when I do it crawls into the corners of my vision and will not leave me, and that what I search for is to work through the void. They tell me to look away. That is their only solution, though they disguise it as many. Their solution is to look away to not mind the tendrils of emptiness and the emotions that I cannot express. But here I am, trying to. 

The emotions of far away, the emotion that we cannot possibly understand the vastness and emptiness our universe holds. How it is so old and so large, yet it is so small and so young. How there is more time than there are words, how there is more distance than we can ever hope to know. There will always be a future, there will always be more and there always has been. When I try to explain this emotion, they say to look away. A dialectic, a word that will not stop showing up in my life. I didn't know what it meant for a while, what a complicated word for a rather simple thing. It simply means contrasting, opposites shoved into one. 

I am trying. When I put the words down it seems simple, but simple is not the word for when I stare in the mirror and see nothing between my ears, the vast between my eyes. While I no longer recognize the person that looks at me in the mirror, I do wonder where they are, who they are. And why are they not me? It is not for lack of looking good, or the right gender (although it is not) but simply not my face at all. I know they are the eyes that let me look at the world. Technically. But it simply does not seem right, that truly what I am is another part of the void. I do not believe in things that many do, like heaven or even reincarnation. I’m not sure if I believe in nothing. Something in me fears that maybe my whole existence is simply a blip, not even a blink, not something that will be ever remembered, as there is nothing to remember it after humanity dies no matter what I do. Even if some other life forms find out my name, or who I was, it too will die. Everything will go with the passage of time. You and I most certainly, the universe will take longer. But by much? Well that is simply a matter of perspective. 

I don't want to look away from the void, from the emotions swirling through my head. I don't want to look away from it. They [doctors] want to focus on me, on my identity, but can I even have one when the void is in every cell? I do not know. I talk, I love, I motion and smile, I help people. It is the body I wear that does such things and I am sure in part is me, but truly I will always be nothing. So am I faking these emotions? Am I faking love? I thought it was true but maybe it is not. After all, from then and now my perspective has changed. So was it ever true? Is there a right answer? Is there any answer to the question I don't know that itches my mind? Will I even know if I find an answer?

#wee woo #will wood #existential #mental instability #struggling mentally #help lmao #like idk what this is but like here you go any answers responses? #Heheh idk whats going on #slaying #possessed

[thejewofkansas]

They took me to a ghostly tree,

a line of snow on ev’ry branch,

whose bloom, which winter cannot stanch,

is more than I shall ever see.

 We feel the warmth of spring so rare

whose leaves have fallen, and the frost

but takes the place of what was lost,

though guarded with exquisite care.

 We make so very little sound

who home to God the trumpets call,

who grasp the void and simply fall,

our length to measure on the ground.

 We speak so few coherent words

who fight for breath we cannot gain,

yet find a sudden end to pain

and find our souls among the birds.

 We do not often come again,

or bid our weightless souls not soar

to walk this solid Earth once more –

to crawl beneath Time’s thumb again.

 We are not moved by grief or mirth

who soon will lay us down to sleep

and pray that God our soul will keep,

however much that soul is worth.

 We cannot stop to say goodbye,

however much you bid us pause

and give your burning tears as cause

that those you love should never die.

 The noose that leads me on to Hell

may yet my knotted neck unbind,

that ere I dangle, peace I find,

the clapper of a phantom bell.

#poem #poetry #quatrains #homage to Tennyson

[cocogreys]

Quest player lost in the storm

If you prove successful in your own eyes by completing this task, then you shall be among The Rainkeeper's sacred order of priests - The Gale Weavers. I am pleased to know that you are willing to go so far as to test your faith - but do so not to me, or to anyone other than yourself and The Rainkeeper, else you shall find only a hollow shadow of the answers you seek, and a great void of disappointment. You say, 'I am willing to test my faith.'Īnnous Pineshadow says 'Excellent, child. Perhaps, if, I might guide you on a path that may lead to the discovery of such answers.'' One truly does not discover one's self until they are faces with the reality of such tests of faith. but such is a question that cannot be merely asked and simply answered in words. You must and you must truly wish to uphold the ways of the Rainkeeper and do so to truly understand.''Īnnous Pineshadow says 'I would not dare challenge that, my friend, but is your faith strong enough to withstand the greatest of consequences - even the sacrifice of your own life in remaining true to that faith? Aaaah. but there is truly so much that in the time that's left for me here could not give proper justice for in my explanations - nor do I believe that you would truly understand them by simply listening. Many of these can be as simple as the performance of a duty, as a druid would protect their forest, while some may be as complex and consuming as a several day ceremony to usher in the changing seasons. You say, 'What sacred ways do you speak of?'Īnnous Pineshadow says 'There are hundreds of different rites, ceremonies, prayers, and rituals that are performed in one's devotion to The Rainkeeper. We also did not wish to have our culture be entirely cut off and those who remained outside of the forest's confines were there to continue the faith and of The Rainkeeper.' Only the druids and rangers of Karana remained in the Jaggedpine - it was important to preserve only the bare minimum and we understood the need. When his majesty, Antonious III sealed the Jaggedpine, I was among those who were asked to remain behind in Qeynos. I adore the nature that Karana sustains, but I had always felt myself more suited for the path of preservation and servitude of the faith. When I had come of age, I ventured to Qeynos to learn the ways of the priest, finding myself lost in the ways of the druid. This is the place of my birth and my home. It is very much a relief to know that the forest has been sparred the taint of the venomous world that has become Norrath.'Īnnous Pineshadow gives a gentle chuckle as he conjures his most fond of memories, 'Sixty years - give or take. It has been a time since I last set foot within the Jaggedpine, and although not surprised, I am amazed and awestruck at the untouched purity of these sacred grounds. I am Annous Pineshadow, high priest of The Rainkeeper and ambassador of Qeynos. This quest starts in Jaggedpine Forest, and is given by Annous Pineshadow, a white robed human near one of the camp fires, once you've attained Ally faction with the Jaggedpine Folk.Īnnous Pineshadow closes his eyes and gives a deep bow of his head in formal greetings, 'Good day to you, Orolmy.

#Quest player lost in the storm

[supernaturalgirl20]

Something worth fighting for

Part 5

Pairings: Oberyn Martell x F!reader

Warnings: Sexual tension, flirting, Smut 18+, explicit, PinV sex, unprotected sex, little bit of sadness.

Summary: Ellaria is dead, poisoned by Cersai Lannister and Oberyn is out for blood. When you arrive in Dorne on behalf of Daenerys to seek his aid in the war on Kings landing, you get more than you bargained for.

A/N: I’m sorry about the wait on this the muse was not working with me. Ok so this has now completely changed course in my head and there will only be a few more chapters. Big things are coming for our lovers 😳

Part 4

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

The journey to Winterfell has been long and arduous, the only reprieve was having your love close by. Anxiety began to seep into your bones the closer you got to your destination and Oberyn could sense something was amiss.

“What has put a frown on your beautiful face my little flower?”

“I just…I feel uneasy, like something is about to happen and I have no control over it. It’s silly I know.”

“It is not silly my love, but I can assure you as long as I live nothing or no one will harm you.”

Looking over at him now, a small smile creeping onto your face, your thankful to Daenerys for sending you to Dorne. You just silently hope that she will not tear you both apart.

***

Tyrion is the first to greet you both, something that you had forgot to mention to Oberyn and you hoped it wouldn’t cause any conflict.

“Still alive I see?” Oberyn says, his face void of any emotion. You unconsciously bite your lip, waiting for the shouting and fighting to start but then a small smile creeps onto his face as he looks at the Lannister fondly.

“Good to see you old friend. I hope the journey was not to arduous?”

“Not at all, I found myself in great company. In fact I had hoped the journey would take some time longer,” he says his eyes drifting towards you. He winks at you and a blush creeps onto your face, which you are quick to shake off as Tyrion’s gaze lands on you.

“Daenerys is waiting in the hall with John, you are expected.”

“Very well,” you sigh out as you dismount the horse, rubbing his Maine. Your eyes meet Oberyn’s, “I hope to see you later.”

His eyes trail after you, watching the sway of your hips. His cock twitching beneath his trousers. A cough tears his attention away from you to the small Lannister.

“I assume you will have no need for a whore house this time?”

“None at all.”

He hops off the horse and walks alongside Tyrion towards the castle. It’s silent at first until Oberyn speaks up.

“These terms Daenerys has set…”

“I was wondering when you would bring it up. I assume you are talking about the marriage part of the agreement?”

“I am. Does she have someone in mind or am I to choose?”

Tyrion halts in his step and turns towards him, a sigh escaping his lips.

“She will not allow you to marry her.”

“Why not?”

“You know why. Daenerys wants a marriage of political value, where she can ensure your allegiance. Your obedience. Y/N does not come from any house, she was a dove set free by the dragon Queen. Nothing more nothing less.”

“Then I shall take my army and leave. If I cannot have her than I want no one.”

“Personally, I think it would be a fine match. I have grown fond of Y/N, she is like a sister to me and she seems quite taken with you. If that is what you wish, you will have a fight on your hands.”

“I love a good fight, it has been some time too, my spear could do with the practice.” They both smile as the continue on towards the hall.

***

The hall is silent as you approach Daenerys and John, all eyes now on you. Her eyebrow quirks as she takes in your form. “I had thought you would be gone far longer than that, from the stories I’ve heard the Prince of a Dorne is not so early swayed. Tell me, what persuaded him?”

“He simply has nothing left to lose, my Queen.”

She sits on the makeshift throne, her stoney gaze set upon you. The tense and awkward Mom tent is interrupted as John rushes toward you and lifts you into the air twirling you around.

“Does it matter how she got him, he’s here and that’s all that matters,” he says releasing you from his tight embrace.

“I…”

“Your majesty, his highness Prince Oberyn of Dorne.”

Whispers can be heard as he enters the room, the sound of his feet against the stone echoing around the room. He comes to stand beside you, his fingers brushing against yours delicately before he addresses Daenerys. You both fail to notice that her eyes are fixed upon where your hands are joined. A hatred burning within her.

“Your Majesty, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“You know why you are here? That we need your assistance in taking back the iron throne.”

“My little flower has informed me. She has also explained the terms you have set which I am happy to discuss. There are a few minor changes I would like to make.”

“Of course, but first you must be exhausted after your journey. Please, rest, eat and if you require any..company, Lord Tyrion will see to it.”

“Indeed.”

Oberyn turns to leave his eyes on you, a question behind them. As you turn to follow, Daenerys shouts after you.

“Y/N you have not been dismissed, there are things we must discuss.”

Letting out a deep sigh you turn to Oberyn with a look that says ‘I’ll find you later’ before returning to the top of the hall.

“You will ride ahead with John the day after tomorrow and set up camp outside kings landing.”

“What? Why? I thought I was to remain and train with the Dornish army and march alongside Oberyn and Tyrion.”

“Are you questioning me? Or are you simply disobeying orders?”

“No..that’s not…I just thought…”

“We have devised a plan in your absence, one which had you and John form an attack at the main gates. While I attack from the water with Oberyn and the dragons. Cersai will think she has won and then I will come. Now I’ll say it again, you will ride with John.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Eyes flickering to John you see him already looking to you with sympathy in his eyes. You nod at him before turning to leave.

***

Later that night as you lay in Oberyn’s arms, his fingers gently rubbing up and down your back, you feel the weight of everything hit you all at once.

“What is it my little flower?”

“I’m sorry I just, I feel like Daenerys hates me for some reason. Oberyn she will never allow us to wed.”

“It is not her decision my love and if she should protest, then I will leave along with my army. You as my wife.”

“I wish it were that simple.”

He nestles himself between your legs, his hand gripping your hips tight as he slide himself inside you once again. A small gasp leaves your lips at the feeling of him filling you. Something you think you shall never be used to.

“I’ve never…thrust…..felt…thrust….like this….thrust…..with anyone….thrust…not even Ellaria…thrust….I’m not letting….thrust….you go.”

He groans loudly and you both give in to the pleasure, unable to continue speaking as you moan and groan. Bodies moving in sync as you ride out your climax together. You fall asleep a little later nestled into his side, his eyes gazing at you lovingly.

I need to talk with Tyrion.

***

“Alright, let me see if I’m correct. You want me to spy on the dragon Queen, to feed you information all because Y/N’ feeling we’re hurt?”

“You are correct. I have a suspicion that something is amiss with Daenerys and I am determined to find out what.”

“Very well. What do I get in return?”

“I will bring you back to Dorne and give you riches beyond your wildest dreams. You may have the pick of the very best whores.”

“You drive a hard bargain Prince Oberyn but I accept.”

“Good. Now I have a meeting with the Dragon Queen I must not be late.”

***

Oberyn walks into the hall with a new purpose, gaze set firmly on the girl sitting on the throne.

“You wanted to discuss terms?”

“Yes. You have said I shall receive riches, I do not want them. You have said I shall have to take a wife, I will agree to this one thing only. On the condition I may choose my wife.”

“I assume you have someone in mind?”

“I do. I wish to make Y/N my wife and princess.”

Daenerys stares at him with a coldness in her eyes. Her body rigid as she contemplates his request. “I’m afraid Prince of Dorne, I cannot agree to those terms. I have plans for Y/N and they do not involve you.” The edge of her mouth quirks into the beginning of a sly smile as she sees the anger flow through him.

“I will allow you some time to deliberate these terms, do not make any rash decisions dragon Queen. Once you piss off the red viper, I will forever seek to destroy you. I will give you two days, then if your answer is not to my liking, I shall take my army along with my love and leave.”

Oberyn turns and walks away and out of the hall, leaving a fuming Daenerys sitting with clenched fists. Standing abruptly she goes to find John. She will have to move things along if her plan is to work.

Part 6

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#pedro pascal #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martell x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #oberyn x reader #Oberyn x female reader

[johannstutt413]

(requested by anonymous)

When Lappland woke up that morning, the first thing she noticed was how cold her bed was; the second thing was the Doctor-shaped hole in it; and the third was that it was, in fact, her bed and not his. This series of observations confused her - she’d definitely fallen asleep in his bed last night and had been for the past four months - and so she did what any rational person would do: yell.

“Doctoooor!” The Lupo roamed around her apartment, finding neither hide nor hair of her captive darling...darling captive? He was hers, that was what mattered. “Dooooctooooor! You there, my guy?...No?...Well, shit, where’d he go? I’ll try texting him.”

A rigorous search of her phone told her nothing - or, rather, it told her ALL information related to the Doctor she’d kept on there (contact info, some pictures both safe for work and otherwise, conversations, anything related to him) had been precision-stripped from her device while leaving everything else intact. It was like he’d never existed according to her phone. “Well, fuck. Weird bug, but maybe someone can help me find him. Or fix my phone. One of the two. Seriously, what the fuck happened?”

“Lappland?” A voice at her front door. Since she was wearing pajamas (for some reason), there wasn’t anything to stop her from answering.

“Yeah? Oh, hey, Pipsqueak.” Her ‘affectionate’ name for Sussurro. “What’s up?”

The Vulpo simply gave her a look - not offended, at least not at this hour of the day. “You were calling for a doctor.”

“Huh? No, I was calling for Doctor.”

“The only difference is a definite article in there.” She walked around the Lupo in a tight circle. “Feeling alright?”

Lappland...well, she might as well tell someone what was happening, and Pipsqueak seemed to know something. “You know where The Doctor is?”

“Who are you referring to? Dr. Kal’tsit?” Now Sussurro’s tone was drifting into confusion.

“No, The Doctor.” The Lupo shook her head. “Company hoodie, runs strategy and personal relations, been shacking up with him for the past four months?”

More, deeper confusion. “I’m sorry, Lappland, I don’t know who you’re talking about. Four months, you say?”

“Yeah. Look, he gave me thi- what the fuck?!” There should’ve been a bite mark from the other night on one of her shoulders, but it, too, was gone.

“Calm down, Lappland,” the Vulpo advised. “Would you mind coming with me to my office so we can get this down in writing?”

She certainly did...but she needed her Doctor and she needed him NOW, damnit. At least Pipsqueak wanted to help. “Yeah, sure, whatever brings him back, take me with you.”

“Alright. If you wouldn’t mind stepping in front of me? I’ll tell you when to turn.” With that, the Lupo took the lead, following Sussurro’s directions to Medical, then to a small office near the front.

“Good morning, Dr. Sussurro,” Ptilopsis chirped as they entered the office. “How may we help you?”

The Vulpo gestured to the door. “Close that for us; I’ll be writing a transcript for an exam with Lappland here.”

“An exam? You think I’m lying?”

“Lying, no,” the Medic replied, “but there’s a reason you remember this Doctor person and I don’t- Ptilopsis? Something wrong?”

At the mention of ‘Doctor,’ Tilly had stutter-stepped. “Corrupted database entry found: one file labeled ‘The Doctor.’ Peripheral contamination detected; quarantining affected data...This unit needs to record this infraction.”

“Close the door and record it for the transcript; this is more serious than I thought. Perhaps some kind of cognition hazard...” Sussurro hopped over to where she kept her medical journal, flipped to a fresh page, and began writing furiously.

“You remember him, too, then?” Lappland grabbed the Liberi’s shoulder as she turned away from the now-closed door. “Do you know what happened?! Tell me if you do!”

Ptilopsis shuddered. “This unit apologizes, User Lappland, but this unit’s memory bank has been corrupted. This unit cannot determine the veracity of their data-”

“To hell with that! What. Do. You. Know.” The frenzy was starting to kick in.

“Lappland, control yourself or I will be forced to control you,” Sussurro called from her desk, eyeing her patient with a frown. “Please give us time. We’re working through this together.”

The Lupo growled. “I could throw you across the room and make sure you wouldn’t bounce.”

“I believe that. Ptilopsis, how are you doing?”

“Data recovery complete,” Tilly replied as her eyes changed color. “Assuming direct control.”

Both Vulpo and Vulpo-chucker looked at the Liberi. “Ptilopsis?”

“She realized I was the only one who knew what happened to him, so I’m gonna take over for a minute. Nice to see the outside after all that time cooped up in her head.” She giggled.

“...Ah.” Sussorro reached for her tranquilizer setup. “What happened, then?”

The Other Voice grinned at Lappland. “This is all a dream, lil’ Lappy. Alllll a dream.”

“Then get me the fuck out of it.”

“Oh, I can’t.” ‘Ptilopsis’ opened the door. “Go find Dusk. She’ll get you out.”

The Lupo was gone before the tranq dart landed in the analyst’s neck.

Locating Dusk was actually rather simple: find Saga. “Hey! Saga! Where’s Dusk?”

“Oh! Hail and well met, Miss Lappland!” The Perro gestured to a nearby wall that was curled in on itself - attempted camouflage? Hard to say. “Surely you shall come upon her in here, although she has most graciously asked for a warning-”

“I’ll give her a warning, alright. Thanks.” No further questions; the Lupo charged across the painting’s threshold.

The monk looked on for a moment. “If only I’d spoken more precisely. I meant to give her a warning, not ask her to give one in turn...”

“Ashes to SilverAsh, dust to Dusk!” Lappland called into the inky blackness she’d found waiting for her. “I don’t know why I’m here, but you’d better take me back quickly!”

“Even a facsimile of Saga can’t help but be helpful, it seems. Will you stop shouting so much if I send you back?” The Dusk addressed her without revealing herself.

Her visitor, though, knew exactly where she was. “You’re my world’s Dusk?”

“Obviously.” The artist waited. “So?”

“Take me back, or my shouting will be the least of your problems.” Lappland’s hand was pressed against the back of her neck.

Dusk sighed. “A thousand rivers will dry before a drop of my blood meets the earth. You really think-”

“I don’t.” The Lupo struck the Dusk’s back with her other hand in three very specific places, and her victim fell forward. “I also found the exit while you were replying. You’ll be back on your feet in an hour. The next time you do this, you’re dead.”

“Ah...So this is where she took her?” The Doctor was standing in front of a conspicuous, swirling void made of paint.

Saga nodded. “Verily, I witnessed her in the midst of crossing the threshold. Doctor, thine anger burns brighter than I hath seen.”

“Don’t worry, Saga, I’m not angry.” He cracked his neck. “I’m furious. When I see her-”

“Doctor!!!” Lappland, like a streak of white lightning, bolted across the threshold and sent them both flying into the opposite wall.

Their Perro witness clapped. “Lappland! Thou hast spared Dusk the wrath of thine beloved!”

“Why?” Said beloved’s face was covering her with kisses and secondhand tears at the moment. “Why the fuck did she take you?”

She didn’t have an answer for that, and she didn’t care; much more important was the fact that she was home.

“If I might interject? Lady Dusk oft spoke of Lappland’s cackling having a powerfully distracting effect on her. Mayhaps she found herself incapable of restraining herself and acted out in anger?”

“...Sounds like what she said,” the Lupo muttered in the Doctor’s ear. “Can we go home?”

He squeezed her tightly to his chest before letting her rise to her feet and following suit. “Let’s go home...Saga? Let Dusk know I’ll need to speak with her tomorrow. I see a lot of Orirock in her future, and I’m not talking about her painting a fucking mountain.”

“Um, yes, I shall inform her of thine will post-haste.” Saga took her leave into the ink dimension.

“She’s got another fifty minutes of time-out,” Lappland noted, her entire demeanor muted by relief, both hers and her dearest’s. “Some god...same weak points as a Lung...”

The Doctor squeezed her hand. “Let’s forget about her for the rest of the day, hmm? All that matters right now is that you’re here, and I’m here, and that’s not changing any time soon.”

“Mmm...Yeah. You have my phone on you?”

“Sure do.” He handed it to her, and she opened her photo album. “Everything there?”

The Perro nodded, scrolling until she was satisfactorily reassured that this was the right reality she was in, before putting it away in her pajama pants pocket. Everything was back to the way it should be.

Everything, that is, except for Dusk’s locomotive capabilities, but they’d sort themselves out eventually.

#arknights #arknights fic #lappland (arknights) #this was the 'an Operator dating the Doctor wakes up and the Doctor's been forgotten' prompt #went with Lappland because i am not immune to Lappland attraction #especially after she saved my ASS in the R6S event #silence+ranged arts damage? #woof woof #i am definitely some kind of hypocrite for being attracted to her in spite of her whole personality #but i'm a simp first and logical person second

[theredsuzuran]

Muzan x reader ~ Lily [pt 2]

Took me forever to complete this song fanfiction, wouldn't have been possible if my friend didn't help, thanks to him. Please check out the first part to understand it better. Here.

Warning : abusive themes, mention of blood and gore.

Enjoy

She knew she was hypnotized.

The sound of a loud slap echoed throughout the room, your father who was furious about your escape have just hit you hard on your face infront of everyone, including the servants. On other hand your mother holding your father's arm tightly to prevent him from hitting you any further.

"Get away, you callous women, it is for you that she tried to run away, you should be ashamed of yourself", he shouted, shoving off your mother roughly onto the tatami floor.

"This is wrong, the Gods will punish us", she murmured under her breath making muffle sounds, your father dissatisfied by her futile attempts of protests turns his attention away from you to hit her right in the stomach with his bare fist in pure fury, making her scream in agony coughing out mucus. Your mother being a fragile women of timid personality, rarely talked to anyone let alone protest or stand up against vile play, always seen behind the shoji doors praying to the gods and chanting prayers, constantly intimidated. Witnessing your father abusing her inhumanely infront of her children, family members as well as the servants, evoked a sense of rebellion inside of you.

"Don't hit my mother, you are angry because of me hit me instead, as much as you like, but not her", you growled furiously at your father, making your mother jolt towards your direction as she shook her head violently.

"Stay away from this brat", he said apatheticly, disappointment hinted in his voice turning his head away from you once again in utter disgust. Receiving such cold treatments from your father made your heart shattered in pieces. Then, your uncle step up.

"Take her to the room and increase the guards, this shall not happen again", your father ordered the servants which was immediately followed without any hesitation or delay before you could protest you were taken away. However you wonder why did your mother reacted that way?

__

As the time passed by, you grew up to be an elegant lady mostly within the confinement of four walls, while pushing down all the jovial moments deep into the unconsciousness... your mind engulfed with the thoughts of your demise. It was getting harder and harder each day for you to keep your sanity intact. A constant state of melancholy always prevailed within your aura, even your own shadow seem deceitful.

Walking on cold thin nights

Then the night of that cursed full moon occurred. You glanced at the starry night from the now open window of your cell with your souless (e/c) eyes. Succumbing towards the void of eternal darkness. Heaven knows what grave sin you might have committed to receive such heavy punishments. As you were busy getting drowned in your own thoughts the shoji door slightly opened and the maids rushed inside your room one by one with cloths and accessories in their arm.

"It's time m'lady" the head maid bowed respectfully infront of you, then motioned the other maids to help you get ready. You could feel them pitying you, sympathizing the miserable state you're in. You simply nodded and get up to dress for your deathbed. At this point you didn't care much you just want it to get over soon, trailing off in the sea of your own distorted thoughts.

You approached your family to bid farewell before heading towards the palanquin. Everyone wishpering behind your back something that they are not allowed to speak infront of you. That didn't bother you anways but you wish you could atleast see your mother for the last time. Is it that hard for a mother to witness her daughter's departure that she needs to constantly hide indoors avoiding her like plague?

A herd of maids accompany you as your bridesmaid to mount Akakura. The norimono stopped infront of a shrine. The bitter cold outside and the solemn atmosphere made it difficult for you to enter through the main gates. All of them left at once after escorting you inside the shrine. While you sat there facing the kami observing the interior, The light of the lamp beside you flickering slowly. The shrine was enormous filled with shofisticated designs, paintings and detail descriptions of the great folklore of Japan. Gods like susanoo killing Yamamoto no orochi in order to restore peace, you were completely lost admiring the aesthetics of the shrine.

But then it broke,

Did she awoke again?

"This is not what we were expecting", you felt a strong gust of wind behind your back as if something was breathing behind your back, you could feel saliva dripping over your expensive uchikake and to your exact horror was standing your living nightmare, a disfigured seven headed monster signifying those of a dragon and a serpent hovering on top of you covering almost the entire shrine glancing directly at your fragile figure with pure malice and hunger.

"Nay, certainly not, she's not one of them, fufu", another head cooed grinning creepily. You looked at them with utter confusion, raising your head slightly to look over that hideous thing above you.

"What do you mean?", Asking almost frustrated, your voice still shaking.

"Oh", the head at the centre replied, his voice calm and steady, facing you with it's long wide neck, his eyes glowing dangerously, inches away from your face, breath stinking of something you'd probably not keen to know as he opened his mouth to speak.

"I fear mortal, but you are not blood-related to any of the seven maidens we have devoured so far", you were taken aback. Not related? You were bewildered, unable to process the new set of information displayed before you, fresh stream of tear forming in the corner of your eyes.

"No, you are lying", You snapped at them angrily.

"What a clueless human, what do we gain by that?", The head in the left hissed irritatedly.

The ground beneath you seem to slide open whereas the sky above began to crumble. For eighteen years you have been raised by people who are not even blood related to you but most importantly they were using you to save themselves, you stood their perplexed, overwhelmed with the new reality. How cruel can people become? An urge to confront your parents came in demanding for an explanation, about their selfish lies, for hiding your true identity, stealing your childhood and a chance to live a normal life. Now that perfectly made sense why your mother always prayed to the Gods for forgiveness, barely talking to you or look in your eyes and why your father is so detached towards you and not your siblings. They were never your own and you were never there's.

"Those human thought they could deceive us, we will kill them", head to the left spoke.

"No, not so soon, they might have deceived us but the girl lying below us is a marechi, no no no we cannot let her go" the main head chuckled darkly, showing its true nature all of them at once looked at you with their protruding eyes, as you shut your eyelids for the worse accepting your misfortune, a heated argument broke among the seven heads.

"You have eaten all the seven women previously, I will have this one" the right head hissed, accompanied by other heads, all of them screaming and cursing at each other. You notice the unlocked gate it must have been open since the demon arrived. It was your golden chance to escape, as they were busy fighting, you took advantage of the situation, slowly crawling your way towards the entrance of the shrine . They seem to not notice you trailing off their sight.

"Stop fighting with one another, we all are literally the same, anyone of us eating her would be enough to make us stronger and please that man", the head at the center erupted fuming with anger.

"She's gone, she's gone", one of the head shouted. Indeed you were missing the only thing left was the wataboshi you wore on top.

Then she ran faster than-

You ran through the dense forest lifting your kimono, the smell of fresh air hitting your nostrils, the feeling of nostalgia came back as you can finally taste that long lost freedom you constantly craved for since forever but unfortunately that didn't last long. As you were running blindly you could feel something gigantic chasing from behind. Being too frantic you stumble and fell onto the ground your leg getting caught in the fabric of your kimono in the process.

Start screaming, "Is there someone out there?"

Please help me

Come get me

"You thought you can ran away from us? What a foolish human", the sound of loud laughter resonated through out the woods. The demon wrapped its tale around your waist squeezing you tightly in attempt to crush your defenseless body lifting you up opening its mouth to shove you inside.

Behind her she can hear it say-

"Let go of me!" You screamed on top of your lungs, a last desperate attempt to exist. When out of the blue a large mascular tentacles flew towards your direction cutting the tail swiftly in a blink of an eye, releasing you from its bone breaking grip but instead of crashing against the ground, you were caught by a pair of strong masculine arm. You looked up in disbelief. A familiar fair male in texudo emerged, his flawless features shining underneath the moonlight coming through the branches.

"Muzan..."

"We met again (y/n), I hope am not too late", he smiled at you gazing softly. Tears came rolling down your cheeks as you cannot believe was it real or just a dream.

History always seem to find it's way of repeating itself.

His previous soft look instantly changed to that of a menacing one as he trailed his glance towards the disfigured monster.

"Crouch down and lower your heads", all the seven heads bow down infront of the demon lord, Cowering with fear at once as if they were struck by lightning.

"Pardon my lord, we didn't realize you have arrived before us or else-", the demon yelped immediately like a lost puppy.

"Who gave you the permission to speak?" Muzan replied indignantly, his eyes glowing threateningly at the petrified creature. You knew he was a demon but you were unaware that he held such authority making a powerful demon like Akai that supposedly haunts the mountain for centuries to lower his head in terror on his command. What was unknown to you that he infact was the progenitor of these morbid creatures.

How ironic being saved by none other but a demon.. being first of his kind.

"Have mercy, my lord" the demon begged, while one of his head thought why's he saving that human girl?

"Why am I saving that human girl? Go ahead, continue", muzan narrowed his eyes making the demon quivered with shock. He can read my mind?

"What makes you answer my authority?" The demon lord demanded furiously, veins popping out from his head.

"Beings like you should not be allowed to exist" with that said, his one arm stretched, injecting a sharp blade into the creature allowing his blood to overflow, creating chaos in the demonic cells of that creature eventually turing it into a pile of molten flesh.

It's over, the nightmares. Fresh tears rolled down your face, mixed with all sorts of emotions, the tables have turned, the heavens seems to have listen to your prayers. A pair of large hands cupped your face breaking you from the chain of thoughts

Follow everywhere I go

"Why are you still crying, dear?" Muzan replied with his smooth, monotonous voice, removing his hand as he placed you gently on the surface. His mood changed in a matter of seconds, you wonder how much more he was capable of doing beside that but brushing aside those feelings of negativity you moved closer.

"Took you long enough" engulfing him in a tight hug, startling him in the process. The idea of being intimate with a lowly creature was good enough to make him puke in disgust. How can a mortal like you have the audacity to touch the all mighty kibutsuji Muzan? He believed himself to be above everything even viewing his own subordinates as puppets of his play. His twisted sense of morality speaks that affection holds a person from attaining superiority and is a sign of weakness, the more ruthless and cold hearted the more close you are to perfection. He shows no value to people who possess such emotions which he is foreign to. Your vulnerability makes him want to ripped you to shreds, torment you and break your mind, yet he finds himself at ease. It was hard for him to admit that his pride was hurted against someone so delicate and somehow he felt those feelings of warmth to be tolerable with you, even to the extent of craving it.

After a while, a sudden realization hit your senses as you parted from the tight embrace, your (s/c) countenance painted with dark shades of red, averting your gaze from the demon. The moon shone brightly above you exhibiting your breathtaking beauty just like a piece of art. The way your shiny (h/c) locks fell over your smooth skin, the way your pulm lips parted to speak and the way your eyes sparked with adoration, was enough to drive him insane. From the very moment he laid his eyes upon you, he knew a masterpiece like you belonged only to the epitome of perfection. He will do anything to keep you to himself.

Top over the mountains or valley low.

"(Y/n), you have a very rare blood, a marechi" said muzan, as you recall the conversation you had with the demon in the shrine saying something similar on this note.

Give you everything you been dreaming of

"What's with that muzan?" You asked curiously, to which muzan's tone changed into that of a viscous one.

"Its a great meal for demons", silence broke out as you were too shock to say anything. Muzan knew he can take advantage of that situation and mould you the way he desires.

"(Y/n) are you scared of me?"

"No", you replied almost immediately with no hesitation.

"Do you trust me?" He questioned again looking at you directly with his glowing ruby orbs. Beginning his sick games of manipulation.

"Yes I do, with all my life, you are the only one who saved my life not once but twice, you cared so much for me when no one did" you paused.

"Beside my mother"

Just let me in, ooh

"Your family abandoned you, when you needed them the most" he replied creating doubts about inside of you, making you back off a little towards a tree.

"My mother was helpless" you answered.

"They used you for their own benefit", pinning you against the tree, he whispered venom into your ears. The proximity between you two, send shivers down your spine. Seeing you helpless excited him, making him determined to claim you even more.

Everything you want in gold, I'll be the magic story you have been told.

"How do you k-know?" You trembled, gasping your mouth and before you could lift your hands to cover your face muzan held your hands into his bigger ones looking directly in your eyes.

"Tell me (y/n) am I wrong?", you knew he wasn't although it didn't make sense.

"No.." is all you replied, satisfied with your answers muzan proceeded into the next step.

And you will safe under my control.

"I want to keep you safe, (y/n)", he moved closer to your face.

"You and I shall rule the world"

"I don't know muzan"

"No one can harm you ever again"

"But-"

"Don't you want to be free?"

Free? That's what you have been wanting for so long, freedom. He made you believe that you can be a boundless bird stretching its wings in the infinite magnitude. All of your doubts stopped growing from then and there, muzan knew he has struck the right cord, creating a ray of false hope about your vision of a perfect free world, thereby controlling your perception just like a predator luring his victims with lies. Seems as if you were destined to be deceived.

"Yes" you replied hypnotized by his convincing.

"Then become a demon"

Just let me in, ohh

Muzan moved his hand across your face caressing it gently, his face inches apart from yours, as his lips crashed against yours. For someone who recoiled from physical touch, to be felt loved by something that isn't supposed to be God's creation. A warm feeling crept inside of your chest as it was pressed against his. Feeling your joint heartbeats.

I never bothered to feel my chest for a heart beat, now I do. As I looked down to see my hand moving towards my face, the slimy red droplet broke away, disconnecting our lips. Demon? This man who gave me this new life? His eyes, so calm and fiery, How can I feel such duality? I lifted my other hand, without knowing it went to his chest, On his chiseled chest, there. You thought.

"A demon?" You replied with your now quivering lips turning your face away with embarrassment, realizing your lips connected with burning passion. Your eyes teared up you know not why, to be embraced by one who was supposed to be cold, to be embraced by someone who stood against armies through out time, you wanted to be with him.

"you will be", said muzan, as you felt your consciousness fading away, you know now why... Why all of them follow him, despite the abuse..Despite the sacrifices... you know now why your body moved craving for his touch although you could feel your throat burning yet it didn't matter, the warm embrace is all that you wanted.

That night you abandoned your humanity.

#kimetsu no yaiba #muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji x reader #kny muzan #muzan kibutsuji #demon #fanfic #kny fanfic #demon lord #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #kny writing

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Stars

Dannymay, 12,021 Human Era

Danny floated lazily on his back, a bag full of white and grey rocks orbiting him while he admired the lunar surface. It was going to be hard for anything short of crafting the rocks into something to top Wulf’s teachings letting him portal up to the moon whenever he wanted, barely tethered by its weak gravity and able to traverse it without disturbing the dust unless he picked up a rock. From his vantage point, the stars above and about were uncountable, and if he didn’t know better he’d say there was no end to them. His appearance had changed, even, from the silk-lined, spike studded, leather jacket that Sam and Tuck all but shoved onto him when it became clear that he’d be fighting ghosts regularly to a suit resembling the uniforms of NASA astronauts, black, white, green, and covered in silver stars.

Grinning to himself, Danny took off toward the Oceanus Procellarum, a camera he and Tuck had built recording the longest video he’d ever taken when a chill that dwarfed the cold of space ran down his spine and rose from his lungs and throat to his lips, blue vapor drifting in front of his face. There was a ghost, on the moon, and the idea of a hostile ghost following him up to space was so beyond aggravating that Danny’s hair ignited, his fangs sharp, the knuckles of his gloves sharpening into hardpoints, and his aura flaring up like a beacon of green and blue. Opening a portal to deposit his bag of moon rocks in his closet, Danny launched himself where he felt the other ghost’s presence, the logic that a ghost whose aura he couldn’t see but still feel on the moon’s surface, in one of her craters even, abandoned at the moment. That thought process is, of course, slammed into him the moment Danny sees exactly what it is that he’s sensed.

Their body was a slowly slithering mass of the purest darkness that could not be called something so bright as black, with violets and blues and colors that could not be seen, only experienced, dancing within them like ink within water, blue and red and green stars twinkling between the stretches of void, moving fast enough for Danny to know there even was movement of them, but slow enough to be mesmerized by the sight of it. Their face was a theatrical mask, bone white with red behind the eyes and a curve of a smile to mark the mouth, and from the void behind the mask curled horns of dark and beautiful amethyst and sapphire and onyx, somehow occupying the same space and curving in every which way. It was, frankly, impossible to make out all the details or to measure quite how massive the form of Nocturne was as he relaxed upon the surface of the moon’s ocean of storms. In all his conflicts, no ghost had ever made him feel quite so small simply by laying back, impossibly huge.

“My, my, ” he said, voice coming from the back of Danny’s head rather than the lack of air around him, even if their lips still moved to shape the words. “ Is that Danny Phantom in the flesh, not simply dreaming so big that you’ve learned to astral project without my guidance? Have you decided to make your fantasy reality and join me here?” They lifted part of their body and when Danny focused he saw the silhouette of a hand.

Danny had many questions, but the first one that came out of his gawking mouth as he rose to meet the giant’s face was, ”How did you get so big? Been munching on the muses of artists? Oh stars, are artistic muses actual spirits? Can you eat them?” While Danny usually appreciated a good laugh, that was when he said something as a joke, not asked a very good question. Nocturne’s laughter swept over him like a tidal wave of endearment and amusement.

“Ah, that’s right, you met me through a smaller emanation, didn’t you? I assure you, child, I’ve been this size for ages. Also, I do not consume muses, though whether that is because they do not exist in such a form that I could or because that would be an unsustainable form of sustenance, I shall leave you to consider. While the dreams of artists like you are rather vivid, the occasional idealist and average joe is good for diversity in palette. After all, each mind has such capacity for imaginative dreams.”

“Emanation?”

“A thin slice of myself sent down to help you sleep at my brother’s request. ” Danny scratched his head at that and Nocturne laughed again. “ The little game of hero and villain was delightful fun, though… you didn’t think that the ghost Master of Dreams needed helmets and machinery to harvest the energy of good dreams, did you?” Danny folded his arms with a pout that Nocturne couldn’t possibly have been able to make out when he was so small comparatively, and yet they chuckled anyway, shifting into what Danny was going to call a sitting position.

“So you aren’t going to leave everyone asleep forever?”

They frowned. “Of course not, you can’t dream forever. It isn’t healthy and leads to stagnation and, eugh, nightmares. Those the Fright Knight can have, whensoever he gets himself free from his imprisonment. ” Danny sighed, relaxing all over, and did his best not to flinch when Nocturne scooped him up in a claw talon tendril wing fin hand. “ Come to listen?”

Danny looked around and spread his arms slowly. “In the silent vacuum of space? To what?”

“My dear boy, can you not hear the star song? ” Nocturne tilted his head and their eyes locked for a long, headache inducing minute. “ No one has taught you how to percieve the spaces that layer upon themselves to form the world you know, have they?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but I do have a headcahe now, so that’s great. What, the world is like origami and everything is singing underneath the top layer?”

“An apt comparison, yes, ” Nocturne said. “ Your liminal state of being considered, perhaps it would be simpler to show you, than to make you work your way through new senses. After all, what’s a dream without a bit of fantastical ease?”

Danny flew back a few paces, though he was still in Nocturne’s palm. “Is it safe for you to do that? I don’t wanna go forgetting how to be a living human being just to hear a song.” Nocturne huffed, puffing up like a bird in mild offense.

“Child, the mind is my domain, I know perfectly well what I am doing. You are not the first liminal whose mind I have touched, nor I imagine shall you be the last. But, if you do not care to hear the song that the earth, the moon and the stars sing…”

“I never said I don’t! I just, wanted to be sure.” Danny rubbed the back of his head before floating a bit higher. “Alright, alright what do I do?”

“Relax, little one. Imagine a door, it can be any door you like, between your mind and those minds around you. ” Danny closed his eyes, taking a superfluous breath that came up empty, his body relaxing slowly with each breath. He pictured a door, a hexagonal door to a space station. “ Very good, ” Nocturne said, and Danny felt his chest puff up with something like pride before he felt and heard a knock knock on the door in his mind. “ Now all you have to do is let me in.”

There was a moment where in Danny considered simply not letting Nocturne into his mind. After all, Danny would probably figure this out himself if he tried. It was a tempting idea, probably even the smartest idea when dealing with a being who had attacked him, even if they claimed it was a game. Still, the opportunity to experience space in a way that no one else could was a far bigger temptation, and so Danny turned the knob on the door to his mind and opened it up slowly.

There is the brush of Nocturne against the door and Danny both has himself drawn out and the universe slipped in and when he opens his eyes and his ears he cannot help but to let his mouth fall open as well. He can hear the voices of the endless universe singing under his feet. The hearts of stars singing deep beneath the lunar soil. Lost to the blooming nebulas staining the dark sky with color, miles upon miles of light and rivers of fire and the promise of something new. Danny can almost hear the words and language they speak; something so close, so distant, something he has never known -- but they ring with such magnificent, terrible truth that he thinks, maybe he has always known them. Maybe they have always lived inside him, alongside the bones. These melodies, these words, that burn with such ferocious clarity that if he just spoke them aloud then the far would become near and he could reach out and pluck the stars from the sky and cradle them in his hands or be cradled in their stellar flares.

The heavy elements known to those dull terrestrial creatures he began life as could only enter the universe with the death of a star, a fact that Danny knew very well, but it was one thing to know something on an academic level, and another to see and hear the voices of the ghosts left behind by those ancient stars, their magnificent fire shining from within every atom of the earth and the moon and the planets around him, harmonizing and rising into something yet more in the song of the Earth and her seas and forests and sky. Danny listens to the moon, and he knows that if he were to sing that song he could reach out to any body of water on Earth and pull it to him and him to it, and his call would be answered. That if he simply moved his lips and sang the words of the stars, he could call upon their fire, their gravity, could reach out to them and leave the chains of gravity rooting him to the Earth. It would be so easy to explore the universe, to leave and join the chorus of the stars and see all that one with an eternity at their hands could see.

Yet there was another song, this one smaller, softer, but no less wonderful song that wove around and within him, and listening to it brought to his mind yet more little songs, faint as the step of an ant against the dirt but still beautiful in all their own ways. He couldn’t go, not yet. Not without them. And so, Danny turned back to Nocturne and beamed up at him. “Thank you.”

“Of course, child. We may stop whenever you wish.” Danny nodded and rose up to circle around Nocturne, drinking in the sight of the universe, so that he could attempt - and fail and attempt again and again - to show his friends what he now experienced with paint and brush and pen. He had to return to Earth, but for now, he had the stars.

#Danny Phantom #Dannymay 2021 #Danny Fenton #Nocturne #Stars #Rexy Writes #fanfiction #fanfic

[flooffybits]

Where Loyalty Lies and Royalty Lies

Not everything and everyone is as they seem, yet one will always hurt once they are face to face with the betrayal they so foolishly hoped to never come.

Warning: death, murder, blood

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“Where exactly did you recruit this one from?” The man grunted while eyeing the woman who stood motionlessly by the door, face void of any emotion that it unnerved the King. “She was recommended by the Park family. She’s said to be their next best, given that their top officer is guarding the princess as we speak.” The other had explained.

“And why would Park suddenly offer us help? We turned them down when they asked for our security.” The king frowned and the man gestured for the silent woman to step forward, which she did before bowing to the king.

Her entire demeanor was hard to read as she stared right at him and the queen glanced to her husband and then back to the young woman as she spoke. “The Park family wishes to show that they have understood the Jeon’s reasoning of declining their offer and have sent me to show that there is no grudge held against the family. If ever you wish to hold a deal with them, the offer shall stand in the event you deem it necessary.”

As soon as she finished, she bowed once more before stepping back, but was halted when the king raised a hand. “What’s your name?”

The woman blinked a few times, somewhat surprised by the question before she spoke up. “My name is Kim Hyunjin.” She introduced and the king nodded his head before letting out a sigh. “Park isn’t one to do something devious…” He muttered, more to himself, before waving a hand. “Very well. Show her my daughter’s quarters and brief her on everything that is necessary.”

“As you wish, sir.”

As she was being gestured to follow, Hyunjin bowed once more to the couple before she followed her new fellow officer as he led her to the princess’ location. “I know that the princess isn’t exactly known to the public, but now that you’ve been assigned, you should know why.” The man spoke as Hyunjin stayed just a step behind him.

“The king and queen are very careful of her. They don’t want her exposed to anything outside of the family’s affairs. She needs to be ready for when it is time for her to take the throne.” Hyunjin didn’t seem to understand the reasoning quite yet, thus her keeping quiet as the male continued. “We believe if the princess were ever exposed to the vulgarities of the people or to anything that we cannot properly resolve, it may cause a hindrance to the family’s already growing power.”

“You mean she doesn’t know anything outside of the mansion?” Hyunjin clarified and the man cleared his throat. “Not quite. She sees the news and she is aware of what happens to the people… just not those who personally come here, like what had happened with the Park family before.” He explains and Hyunjin furrows her brows together. “We cannot afford distractions. If the princess’ views are tarnished, it will ruin her parents’ plans.”

“And these plans are?” Hyunjin inquires, only to earn a glance from the man. “None of your concern, given you’re fairly new.” He replied before they finally stopped in front of a white wooden door, rabbits drawn on it along with a few flowers littering the surface.

Hyunjin wonders just what exactly this princess was like, given the family never showed her to the public, nor did they reveal anything of her personality. The Jeon family was known for their strict and traditional way of ruling, so no one dared to question them, lest they have somewhere else to live that wasn’t under their shadow.

But if she wanted to keep her job, the girl decided to keep her mouth shut to avoid further questions and simply waited as the man lightly knocked on the door. “Princess, there’s someone we need you to meet.” He announced and there’s some shuffling behind the door before a faint ‘come in’ met Hyunjin’s ears.

As the door is opened, Hyunjin is escorted inside, followed by the man who had brought her there before she spots a lone girl sitting in one side of the room, dressed in a simple white shirt and leggings, though due to the air conditioning, she had a dark blue jacket resting on her shoulders to fight off the cold.

The girl’s face was small, and if Hyunjin would admit, the princess resembled that of a pup that was always looking for their owner. Though aside from that, Hyunjin could only assume that the princess was around her age, if not the same. Their height wasn’t that different either.

“Hyunjin, this is Jeon Heejin, the princess and heir to the throne.” The male gestured and Heejin offered a kind smile before the man was talking again. “This is Kim Hyunjin. She will be your newest bodyguard. Since you are of the same age, we hope that you may get along with her, princess.”

Heejin’s face visibly lit up at that bit and Hyunjin waited until she was given the order to leave. However, that didn’t come as the man then bowed his head. “I will be leaving you now. Please, enjoy the rest of your day.”

Hyunjin had opened her mouth to speak, but the male merely walked out the door and left her there, standing stiffly in the princess’ presence, who stared at her with eyes full of curiosity. “I’m honestly surprised. They’ve never assigned me with someone in my age range, or a woman, as a matter. So you must be really good at your job!”

While she knew nothing of the unidentified princess, Hyunjin was sure she would be anything like this. Heejin’s expression was that of a child receiving presents on Christmas day, nothing like the traditional or strict princess she pictured her to be based on what she had been told earlier.

“It was an offer.” She answered simply and Heejin looked confused with her head cocked to the side before she nodded her head. “I see. Then I hope you can enjoy your stay here.” She says with a friendly smile, but there’s something about her expression that puts Hyunjin a little uneasy, yet she keeps a straight face as she was trained to do so.

“Where did you say you were from, Hyunjin?”

“I was sent from the Park family.” She answered without missing a beat and for a split second, Hyunjin saw as Heejin’s expression fell before she had opted for a small smile. “Well, whatever it is, I hope we can be friends if you’re going to be hanging around me for the majority of the day.”

Hyunjin, of course, agrees since this would be her new life from this day on. It would be easier for both of them if they were able to get along and if Heejin were able to trust her. That was the reason she had been her guard afterall.

If she couldn’t trust her with her life, then her coming here would all be in vain.

..

Chaewon stared quietly at the files handed to her and she pressed her lips together when she viewed the contents of the folder. The more she read, the more her stomach dropped. And seeing the name of the people written at the very front of it had only left a bitter taste in her mouth, but this was Sooyoung and she knew that if she wanted to keep her people from facing conflicts without protection, she had no choice.

And if the warning was true, then she needed Sooyoung’s help more than ever.

“We���ll make sure to steer clear of your territory, Gowon, don’t worry.” She heard the latter’s voice coming from the speakers, the image of the Queen right in front of her as she slowly placed the files down, and Sooyoung notices the flicker of emotion in her eyes though chooses not to say anything. “Where did you get these, though?”

While her parents were busy dealing with other matters, Chaewon had been left in charge, so to have to deal with this was making her feel as though she should have just gone in her parents’ place.

“It was an anonymous sender. None of my officers were able to track its source, either.”

“Isn’t that a little too suspicious though? They haven’t caused trouble, so I don’t think they would start planning to go against you.” Chaewon inquired, only to see the guarded look on Sooyoung’s face. “You know I can’t take risks, Gowon. I trust you enough with this.”

“And Hyejoo?”

The name causes the older woman to pause and Chaewon chews on the inside of her cheek, anticipation building up in her chest. She can see the Queen’s shoulders tense at the name, but unlike she’d hoped, Sooyoung shakes her head with a regretful sigh. “It’s for the best.”

And when the meeting is over, there’s a sense of dread in the air, one that forces the princess to leave the meeting room immediately and rush to her own quarters, pacing as she looks out the large window that overlooks her kingdom.

Her people needed her, and if eliminating the risk was necessary, then she had no choice but to take that.

In order to distract herself, she reached for her laptop to see the emails sent to her, and it helps when she reads the report sent in before she let out a hum. “Jeon Heejin...”

Meanwhile, Sooyoung stared at the blank screen of her laptop with a grimace, fists clenched tightly until her knuckles turned white before she stood up and faced the men that stood by her office door. “Prepare your teams. You leave the mansion at my order.” The pair nodded before exiting to prepare as asked and Sooyoung nibbles on her lower lip before crossing her arms.

The name rings in her ears and the weight is heavy on her heart because she’s had to sacrifice far too much for her to remain her title as queen. Despite her young age, she had people to look after and an entire kingdom who relied on her.

Love was something she had learned to let go, especially one that was with a person who had no status. Her council would have her head if she had told them, and now she had to cut yet another important part of life just to ensure the safety of everyone.

“I need you back with me… please…” She whispered quietly as she opened up her phone, viewing one of the few pictures she had kept of a woman with auburn colored hair, the sun’s rays bouncing off her features and making seem more ethereal than she already was.

Willing herself not to cry, Sooyoung sucked in a deep breath before she left the room to go and change her clothes.

..

When night fell, a lone girl watched as her home had been ransacked and turned upside down. Various rooms had been ruined and there was fire beginning to grow from the living room.

Right after she had heard a bang when she was getting ready to sleep, the young girl sat up before hearing the sounds of screaming coming outside, the voices she recognized as from the maids that often took care of her.

Her door burst open right as she stood up, and Minho frantically looked around before his eyes landed on her figure. “Princess, we don’t have much time. I need you to collect your things.” He said quickly and the girl frowned while slipping her slippers on. “Oppa, what’s going on? Where are my parents?” She asked cautiously, but the male merely shook his head. “There’s not much time to explain. We need to hurry.” He rushed to grab a bag big enough to fit the princess’ things, throwing the essentials he deemed necessary and the young woman couldn’t properly process.

“Where are my parents?” She asked again when the fear began to build in her chest and the man paused as he looked at her, his shoulders heavy with the weight of the answer, but he merely shook his head. “They’ll be okay, Hyejoo, but I need to bring you to safety before anything else.”

There’s another crash and Minho starts to move again, making sure that Hyejoo had everything before he gestured to the door whilst Hyejoo threw a hoodie over her head, changing her slippers for shoes in case she needed to run, which she did.

“Stick close to me.” He muttered and Hyejoo nodded her head before they both silently slipped out of her room, making sure to avoid crossing paths with anyone.

But when Hyejoo sees the state of her home and the blood and bodies that are scattered about, her feet slowly come to a halt as her face pales. Just this afternoon, she remembers conversing with these people, and yet after a few hours, they were all lying lifelessly at the floor of her home.

“Hyejoo, please.” Minho pulled her closer, doing his best to shield her eyes, but that had little to no effect now that she’s seen the damage. But then, when they reach the dining room and Minho tries to help her through one of the windows, she takes one more look behind her, wishing that she didn’t when she sees the body of her mother laying over her father.

Both of them had blood seeping out of them both. Her father was long gone, yet as she found her mother’s face, it was clear that she wasn’t too far behind. But when their eyes meet, Hyejoo sees as the corners of her mouth lift into a small smile, relieved to see her daughter alive and unharmed.

“Mom…” Before she could pull away, Minho had already pushed her outside, knowing well of what she had seen. “Once we make it past the clearing, there should be a car parked at the edge. We use that one for emergencies.” Minho began to say as he continued to lead her further away from the house.

But Hyejoo was far too confused and distracted to understand what he was saying. All she could see was the picture of her parents laying in their living as the life was drained out of them.

Who could have done such a thing?

Their family had done nothing that could earn them this fate. So why?

Just as Minho handed her the bag and helped her over the fence, Hyejoo placed her things inside the car before she turned back to help the man over, but just before he could fully go over, the sound of a bang echoed in the air and Hyejoo’s eyes widened when Minho’s grip on her grew slack and he slumped over the fence, blood trailing down and filling the princess’ sight before she stumbled back.

“Go…” Minho was able to wheeze out, and despite wanting to save him, Hyejoo forced herself to move before rushing to the car and getting in, driving away as fast as she could.

But when she glanced at the mirror to see just who had shot her guard and friend, she felt her heart jump to her throat when she saw the hardened look on Sooyoung’s expression, the barrel of the gun pointed right at her.

But she doesn’t shoot.

All Hyejoo is left to think is why now that she was alone.

How could someone she trusted have gone and have her family killed like that?

How could someone who had claimed to love and care for her like a sister turn a gun at her and want her dead?

#of tales and whispers #girl group #girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #loona #loona scenarios #loona imagines #heejin loona #loona heejin #hyunjin loona #loona hyunjin #yves loona #loona yves #gowon loona #loona gowon #olivia hye loona #loona olivia hye #jeon heejin #heejin #kim hyunjin #hyunjin #ha sooyoung #yves #park chaewon #gowon #son hyejoo #olivia hye #heejin imagines #heejin scenarios #hyunjin imagines