#leading charges with his lyre and music

[vv-ispy]

nameless bard ameno archon au.............

#i feel like he'd be. more stubborn and serious than venti is #in terms of confrontation that is #i imagine that their dynamic is. it was mostly bard who rallied people for the rebellion with his words and music #leading charges with his lyre and music #and venti was an equal in terms of being the bard's beloved friend #but in terms of leading humans? Venti didn't do much. couldn't do much #so it was the nb who was a leader to the humans and rebels while venti was support with his wind #and also got to fool around and play pranks on others while they were focused on nb #leading to barbatos' later 'hey lets play lets play lets play' attitude while everyone else was like #'barbatos do some work' #au archon bard probably Visibly does work and has a more serious demenor about it #vs venti's yeah he keeps tabs on his people but he's playful about it #au where venti and nb are co(?)archons like ei and makoto and just screw around in mondstadt #enjoying their hard earned freedom. is that too much to ask. for them to be happy is that #au where they're alive and together and happy pls #genshin talk #......but can you also imagine au if venti was the one who died like kdlhfslkdfh statues of wisps around the city bc thats #the only form nb knew him as lol

[deathlessathanasia]

“In addition to his quickness of mind, Hermes has an innate ability to get things done without drawing attention to himself and without arousing the suspicions of those with whom he does engage. He displays this particular talent when he loosens his swaddling clothes and escapes from his home without attracting his mother's attention. Shortly thereafter he slips back inside and leaves a second time, still without notice. He then makes his way to Pieria to find Apollo's sacred cows. Once he locates them, Hermes easily evades the four keen-eyed hounds whose job it was to guard the herd, and makes off with all fifty of his brother's cows (Hymn to Hermes 4.140ff.). After driving them to his desired destination and completing what he had planned to do with them, Hermes then conceals the cows in a cave and takes himself back home, attracting the notice of neither god nor man nor beast. Thereafter he lets himself into the house by 'turning sideways and going in through the foyer's keyhole like a late summer's breeze, even as a mist' (145-7).

Hermes' ability to move through space in a stealthy manner can be just as evident in his manner of speaking. This too is put on display almost as soon as he leaves the house. When setting out to get Apollo's cows, Hermes unexpectedly spies a tortoise and (while plotting its death and conversion into a lyre) talks it into accompanying him indoors without raising any suspicion whatsoever (26-40). Later, when he is seen by an old man near Onchestos as he is driving the cows from Pieria to the banks of the River Alpheios, Hermes warns the man against telling anyone what he has seen in words that have a riddling quality to them, but which contain a threat couched in a promise of benefit that is itself all too clear (90-3). The next morning when Apollo finds Hermes at home and charges him with being a cattle-thief, the young god offers to swear an oath in an attempt to misdirect his brother. His clever way with words is further on display when, after leading his brother back to Olympos so that the case can be put before their father, Zeus, rather than arguing for his own innocence , Hermes defends himself by showing how poorly Apollo has made his case against him. In light of just these few highlights from the Hymn it should come as no surprise that the same set of epithets and cult titles which serve to acknowledge Hermes' metis are equally as appropriate for expressing this aspect of Hermes' innate talents. . . .

However, the same metis that gives Hermes his quickness of mind and ability to move stealthily also underlies some very unique expression of this god's creativity. The Fourth Homeric Hymn is again our primary source for instances of Hermes' innate creative vision and intuitive sense of what needs to be done to bring a desired end to fruition. Over the course of his first twenty-four hours of life, Hermes brings into existence no fewer than five items, each from pre-existing materials. He has the ability to see the potential in things, the possibilities in their use, either in whole or in part, in entirely new ways. Thus the very first thing he does as he goes out into the world to catch Apollo's cows is to see a tortoise and instantaneously recognise the usefulness of its shell as a sounding box for a musical instrument, the lyre. The rapidity with which he is able to put thought into action is expressed by the praise-singer thus: 'As when swift thought passes through the breast of a man ... or as when sparkles dance from the eyes, so glorious Hermes together wrought thought and deed' ( 43-6). We might rather say, 'in the twinkling of an eye'. It is as if Hermes no sooner visualises something that does not yet exist than he instantaneously knows how to bring it into being and does so.

But his creative ability goes beyond even this: not only can Hermes recognise the hidden potential in things, but he can also recognise one thing as a' sign' indicative of something else. Thus, Hermes interprets his 'chance' encounter with the tortoise as a 'sign' that he will meet with good fortune on his quest for timai ('honours') within Zeus' ruling council. Hermes also proceeds to assign an equally favourable significance to other members of the tortoise's family: for a mortal, a living tortoise will serve as an apotropaic sign, 'a defence (echma) against baneful attacks' (37-8). In fact, these two instances are indicative of a significant talent that clearly sets Hermes apart from the other gods: his creative relationship with signs and symbols and their interpretation. The Hymn signals this relationship in the use of the term 'most notable' (12) in the description of Hermes' birth; the event itself was, if taken literally, a 'strong sign' (ari-sema) of things to come. Hermes has the innate ability to establish signs and symbols within his father's cosmos and assign meaning to them as evidenced by his 'reading' of the tortoise as a sign, a 'profitable symbol' (sumbolon, 30). . . . in addition to being sign-maker, Hermes is also a sign- reader: he knows that the tracks left by the cows might be recognised by another as 'signs' that could lead them to their hiding place. The same realisation was made with regard to his own tracks. To create a confusing sign for the cows' movement, Hermes simply turns them around and makes them walk backwards (76-8); but to conceal his own footprints, he devises a novel form of footwear, made from interwoven switches of tamarisk and myrtle, which, when worn, leave very large and confusing marks on the ground (79-86). If Hermes is not the first god to see the earth as a surface upon which to inscribe signs, he appears to be the first to conceive of inscribing deliberately misleading signs on its surface. Hermes' sandals were inventions of the moment, meant to serve the needs of a particular situation: they could be ( and were) readily discarded when that need had been met. The next thing Hermes invents, again brought into being to meet an immediate need, would be a tool of repeated value to humankind, for it gave mortals the ability to re-kindle a fire without having to fetch a living flame from one already burning to ignite another. Hermes' fire-sticks (108-11) were an improvement on Prometheus' earlier theft of a living flame from Hephaistos' hearth (Theogony 565-67): that fire had to be kept continually burning since there was no way for mortals to re-steal the ember from its Olympian source. His creative acts do not end here: later on, after gifting his lyre to Apollo, Hermes invents a new instrument for himself, the shepherd's pipes ( 511).”

 - Arlene Allan, Hermes

#hermes #Homeric Hymn to Hermes #quotes #excerpts #mētis

[aetherarf]

can i request diluc’s s/o trying to convince him to perform this song at the windblume festival

the s/o plays the guitar

kaeya plays the drums

rosaria plays the piano

and venti plays his lyre

anon... ur mind... bless....

also its been a long time since ive used tumblr outside of posting my writings, WHEN WAS PUTTING HYPERLINKS IN ASKS A THING?

[ i tweaked some of the ideas you offered... just read :) ]

this request killed me its so long. sorry if its weird.

[[ Summary: The wind embodies change, and with it, even the Harpastum festival must change... And you're intent on bringing the change.

Word Count: 4'855 ]]

Countless pages of sheet music, of instruments awkwardly acquired through countless means, songs written...

You looked over the mass of objects. It looked messy, but... hey, they weren't being used right now!

Harpastum had always been a great time for celebration, for bringing loud joy and exuberance... And you were in charge of heralding another change in the City of the Wind.

You intended on putting together a massive performance, a band all together to play music, and to gather Mondstadt to bear witness. However, there was a few problems with this..

You may have written all the music, but you were one person. You couldn't play all the instruments, even if you had reasonable grasp of all of them, and you definitely couldn't sing the lead part--Your voice just couldn't project well enough, as well as you couldn't hit the necessary notes.

You had a few weeks before it was time for you to put everyone on the stage... was that enough time?

... You'd have to figure it out then.

Maybe you could ask Barbara for help? She had her own concerts from time to time, as Mondstadt's Idol herself, so... She might know how to help.

... Sigh. The cathedral.

A quick walk through and a few questions with the sisters told you Barbara was taking a day off--of course, you were happy for her! She never was very good at taking care of herself, but it just left you frustrated with the fact that you truly were alone to figure this out...

You couldn't sit another minute amongst countless instruments that taunted you, so you sat on a bench, looking over the papers you carried with you...

You could take one of the spots... Whatever was left over, really, minus being the singer. Actually--you had an idea of who could be the singer, so you didn't really worry too much, that'd be the easiest of this whole ordeal... it was just... everything else.

"Yahoo! Wah-ACK!"

You jerked your head up, seeing Venti gliding right above you, then a spear shot over him, shooting through his windglider, destroying it as he crashed to the ground, rolling like a dropped sack of potatoes pushed down a hill, but just managing to jump up with a sigh.

"Dangit. Oh, hi!" He trotted over to you, as though he had not been nearly maimed by a sudden weapon, "Hey! What are you looking at?" He was still panting when he bent at the waist, not minding your personal space as he looked at the music, you panicked and pulled it to your chest.

"I-... Are you okay?" You asked, and Venti just shrugged, sitting down next to you.

"I've been worse. I just made a sister very angry at me... Nothing new!"

You looked at him oddly, only to hear the sound of feet stomping on the stone ground, and to see a sister standing over you--

No, over him.

"Bard," She said, harshly, "I could imprison you beneath the Knight headquarters this instant for this, you know."

Venti stood up, "Of course, but! Ack!" With one hand, he held onto his chest, and dramatically fell back, one hand holding the back of the bench, "You've already wounded me so... was this a suffecient enough punishment...?" He asked, dramatically rasping for death,

"Blegh..." He stumbled back, and fell over the back of the bench, his legs from the knee-down hanging over the top of it.

The woman just groaned, shaking her head and grabbing one of his legs, tossing it off to the side of the bench, hearing Venti go oomf! As he completely hit the ground, and the woman took the spot he was just sitting in.

"What do you have there?" She asked, looking over.

"Well, hello to you too, Rosaria."

Rosaria looked at your face--no emotion on her own, and she just repeated herself, "What do you have there?"

You handed over the papers, and she took, holding them with much more care than Venti ever would of--He already slung his arms over the back of the bench, his chin resting atop it so he could watch whatever you and Rosaria were doing, in a... metaphorically front row seat.

"I'm planning something for Harpastum. A... concert, like Barbara's. But I can't really find the people I need." You admitted, genuinely, and she flipped through it a little. Eventually, you noticed she was looking over the piano part.

"I see. Nothing to be concerned of, for me or for you." She set it down on the bench between the both of you, only for Venti to snatch it up, snooping through it as well.

"What do you mean?" You asked, watching Venti out of the corner of your eye.

"Well, you're not sharing anything dangerous with the bard-" She reached over, and flicked him right between the eyes.

"Owwie... you're mean." Venti pouted, for all of two seconds before he went back to reading through it all- the sheet music, the plans, the lyrics, all that.

"As well as the piano part looked simple enough... Don't bother asking the other sister," Rosaria leaned back, "But anyone who knows and has limber enough hands to keep up can play it."

"I like this trumpet part," Venti mentioned, idly, "It's... bouncy."

"Well, it's supposed to be... and if you two iike it so much..."

Both of them locked their gazes right on you,

"Would you be willing to just play a little? And-and if you like it, maybe play for the concert? it's not a big thing, I promise!"

There was a silence, before Venti shouted--loudly, "Of course! Even if it's different than normal, a bard always strives to entertain!"

He then dramatically fell behind the bench again, with a loud oomf.

You idly wonder how he's not permanently as purple as a grape from all the bumps and bruises he gets.

"... Hm. What's in it for me?"

You looked at her helplessly...

"... Conner has a special batch of wine brewing for Harpastum, meant to be drunk near-frozen... for the heat, you know? I can get Diluc to get you a bottle."

Rosaria's eyes widened.

"Wait, do I get wine too?" Venti asked, peeking over the back of the bench.

You sighed, "Everyone who performs will get a bottle of this special wine, I promise!"

Venti, again, cheered loudly.

"Hm," Rosaria hummed, "I'll try out playing the part, at least. Do you have a piano? I don't really want the other sisters to yell at me for playing such..." she raised her hands, doing air quotes, "violent music in the Cathedral."

"I do, I do," you stood up, more than a little excited, "It's at my place, come on! Fair warning, it's a bit of a mess, but it's not like I'm having the concert there."

"Meh, everything's messy at some point." Venti shrugged, and Rosaria simply said nothing, letting you lead the both of them forth...

Oh, this was all coming together!

...

By the time the three of you got there, the first thing you did was move the drums--ah, still needed a drummer, oh well. You moved them out of the way to give access to the piano, adjusting the drums to make it all the easier for whoever came next to play... and, tucked away, you pulled out the trumpet, all but shoving it into Venti's hands as Rosaria sat down.

On the piano, you set down Rosaria's part, and you placed a stand before Venti, setting the sheet music down for the trumpet there..

"Okay... Rosaria?" You looked over at her, and she just tilted her head to look at you, "How about you play your part--Venti, if you blow that in my ear, I will end you."

Venti, sheepishly, tucked the trumpet behind his back, "What? Why would I do that... Ehe..."

You glared at him, "Oh, and..." You fumbled around with the clutter, finding a metronome and setting it on top of the piano, setting it to the right beat...

And without prompting, Rosaria began playing, near slamming her fingertips onto the keys of the piano--nothing like the music that was played in the Cathedral, that was always gentle, loving tickling of the ivory keys, but this was loud and harsh, banging, as though demanding you to move.

"Perfect!" You couldn't help but shout out, making Rosaria hit a wrong key, and she jerked around to glare at you.

"... Sorry," you admitted, "But, oh my goodness... It's perfect! Please, please tell me you'll play!" You were ready to get down on your knees and beg...

She examined your expression...

"... Maybe. Assuming you can get everyone else. And I expect a sample of the wine before we get on stage."

"Of course, of course, that's-that's more than acceptable!"

"Heyyy..." Venti whined, "What about me?"

"Oh, right," Venti just withered at that statement, "Don't do that, now... your turn, Venti."

He perked up without an issue, pressing the trumpet to his lips, and you flipped the sheet music to its first page--

And it was loud, each note forced out with excitement and enthusiasm, Venti all but dancing as he played, even as both his hands were on the trumpet itself, bouncing where he stood--

The music sounded just as excited as he looked.

"Perfect!"

Once again, you made one of your bandmates [ Oh, bandmates! This is really coming together! ] jump, and play a wrong note.

You couldn't be bothered to care!

"Okay, okay! That leaves... That leaves the drums and the guitar..."

You looked at both, focusing on them... "I can play both, but..."

You sighed, withering again at the realization that you were still just at the beginning.

"Not at once..."

Venti looked over the drums curiously for a moment... And smiled.

"I have an idea-"

"You're not going to play them with your feet, Venti."

"THAT WASN'T MY IDEA... Even if it's totally a great idea. But--isnt there a particular Cavalry Captain who was raised in a rich family? They do love teaching their children the musical arts..." Venti hummed.

You stared blankly for a moment, "Kae...ya? Do you actually think he knows how to play, well, anything?"

"Duh, he's a rich boy!" Venti shouted, "Sure, Diluc is the actual rich boy, but we all know he'd rather kiss a Hilichurl than go on stage!"

... You hoped not.

"Well, I suppose it's worth a shot. Do you two want to come with me?"

"Sure!"

"I've got nothing better to do."

What a merry little band you've gotten, all parading your way down to the Knight's headquarters.

It didn't take long to find the office Kaeya was in, all three of you filtering in, all but surrounding his desk, and Kaeya looked up suspiciously, setting down the pen in hand.

"I'd ask if this was an intervention about my drinking, but none of you are able to say anything about it."

Venti, "Hey!"

Rosaria, "Fair."

You just huffed.

"No, this isn't an intervention... yet," You knew Diluc had been getting worried about Kaeya's drinking as of late, but this wasn't the time nor the place, "We have a little... performance going on for the Harpastum, and a little bird told me you know how to play a few instruments."

Kaeya's gaze turned to Venti, and he quirked a brow, before looking back at you, "Maybe... What's this performance?"

You bounced a little where you stood--this meant he might actually say yes! Maybe. Hopefully. Possibly.

"W-well, I've composed some music, it's... Not so much a ballad, but closer to how Barbara sings. It's meant to have a lead singer, a guitarist, a drummer," you nodded to Rosaria, "A pianist," and then to Venti, "And someone on the trumpet."

"So... where do you want me?"

You stared hoplessly.

"... Anywhere."

Venti lightly tapped your arm, speaking in a low voice, hiding his mouth from Kaeya with one flat hand, "Don't sound so desperate."

"I am desperate." You whispered back, less secretive about it.

"Hm... So, paint me a picture," he leaned back in his seat, "What's the whole setup?"

You, exasperatedly, explained it all.

There was supposed to be a lead singer--sadly, you couldn't take the role despite all your hard work, simply because your voice didn't work with what you needed--and behind, or perhaps, beside the lead singer was the accompanying band. The whole concert wasn't supposed to be terribly long, just to whet the appetite of the audience. If it went well, this could be a great sign for your future, and honestly, you just wanted to see the joy you could bring to others.

Kaeya didn't say anything, just humming, nodding every so often, as you spoke... until, he smiled.

"Alright. I'm in. I can take the drums--I always did like percussion... But I don't exactly have a set of my own."

"Oh!" You were beaming, "I have-I have a set, I have all the instruments at my place, and... and I can play the guitar, so..."

You lead the group, all the way back to your place, giving Kaeya a few minutes to adjust to it, and you had the guitar in your hands, and you all managed to, barely, play the first few seconds of it, before it got a little cluttered...

But if you all could already do a little together, with little to no practice...

Well, you only needed time and the lead singer, and that was the easiest of your troubles... after all, how could he say no to you.

...

"No."

Diluc had his arms folded over his chest, nearly glaring at you after you proposed the idea, and you were stunned for a second, expecting him to say yes immediately, you didn't really have a back up response in mind.

"No...?" You asked again, softly.

"I don't like being in... the metaphorical or literal spotlight. You know this."

You did, but...

"Diluc, you're perfect for the spot... And it won't be long, I promise! If it goes bad, you never have to do it again... I already have the other spots fulfilled..."

Diluc's gazed softened a little, and he looked away from you.

"You can't expect me to be your saving grace all the time," he, gently, scolded, "It's not fair for you to plan me into things without my consent."

You were... stunned.

He was right, but...

"... I know." You admitted, "I know, I know, it was selfish... but I really, really need you... Can you, just... Give me one chance? And just do this for me?"

Diluc's hands twitched.

"I'll consider it. I don't think I'd be as good of a match for the spot as you'd think." He admitted, genuinely.

"It's made for you... how about this--I get you the sheet music with the lyrics, and... you don't have to see the rest of the band yet. You can just... try it out on your own? See how it feels? If you truly hate it, then you don't have to."

There was a moment of silence, and Diluc was adjusting his gloves--a clear sign that he was, truly, thinking about it.

"Fine."

From anyone else, the word would have seemed stern, but it just sounded so soft coming from him.

"I have to go see someone... Just leave it on my desk and I'll go through it."

Oh, oh, you could only hope he'd end up showing...

Hope, hope, hope...

...

And you did hope, even if you were worried. More than once you'd come home, hearing him singing his lines oh-so beautifully, but as you tried to stealthily get closer, he always heard your footsteps, no matter how careful you were and went silent, denying he had ever once sung.

Did he really hate the idea so much?

... Didn't matter. It was time to practice, and Kaeya was setting everyone off, tapping his drumsticks together to set up a beat--

"One, two, three, four!"

And everyone was playing together--of course, it wasn't perfect, but it was good. They were managing to work together, and it sounded just as good, no, better than you had hoped... Of course it would sound better with all the parts together, instead of just each all on their own.

All it needed was a little more practice, and the lead singer.

You just desperately hoped that it was all going to end up alright.

The song ended, and Kaeya was half panting--he really did go all out with the drums, Venti even opted to sitting on the ground, and as far as you could tell, despite the fast paced music and the high demand for energy, she didn't seem to have broken a sweat.

"That's... oh boy, yeah, we're going to need practice." Kaeya said, half hunched over, "I forgot how much energy this took."

"We have a few weeks, still." You tried to console him, "Everyone should be ready by then."

"Even your mystery singer?" Rosaria asked.

"Yeah, you keep saying you have one, but... it's alright if you don't. I don't think I could take the part and drum, but I can probably find someone..."

"No, I do, I do!" You insisted.

You hoped.

Only time would tell.

...

You sat there, head in your hands...

It was today, and Diluc and Kaeya left weeks ago. Venti sat beside you, his hand on your back, and Rosaria paced back and forth.

"I'm going to kill them," Rosaria declared, "I'm going to kill both of them for ditching like this, for doing this to you. To all of us."

It seemed, maybe, she was all torn up about this... in her own way--Of course, this had bonded everyone together, but...

"I just..." You sighed, and Rosaria stopped in her tracks. You couldn't help the tears that came to your eyes, "I worked so hard... and Kaeya nor Diluc didn't even tell me where he went..."

"Oh... No, no, it's nothing bad, I promise." Venti reassured, "There was a threat... I-I can't really tell you everything, or else I'm dead, but he didn't just leave because of this, I promise."

"But Kaeya, as well?" You looked at Venti's face...

"He went with Diluc."

"How do you know?" Rosaria glared at him.

"W-Well, I helped them get a ride... It was quite a dire situation, you know!"

He was lying, but you didn't care. Maybe he was just lying to make it hurt a little bit less.

"I'm sure, once one comes, the other will be here too..."

"I can't reschedule this," you sighed, "Everyone was so excited... I can't just... give up..."

Venti hugged you close, letting you rest your head on his shoulder...

You were so caught up that you didn't even hear the footsteps approaching,

"About time, assholes."

"Hey, I didn't mean to disappear like that!"

A shadow came over you, and you lifted your head, seeing Diluc standing there--

"Are you-OOMF!"

You leapt at Diluc, almost causing him to fall back onto his ass, but he was able to hold you close, keeping you both from falling.

"Diluc... I was so scared, I was so worried..." You buried your face into his coat, "Don't leave like that ever again."

For a moment, he was silent, looking around as everyone was looking at him... But, gently, he pried you off of him,

"Hey," he said, softly, "We still have a concert to put on."

You stared at him, confused, before it all hit you at once, "Oh, oh my gods, you're right! Oh, we-we need to set up, no, no we need to practice... you two are... okay to play, right?"

Kaeya looked over at Diluc curiously, "Two...?"

"I meant, are you okay to play?" You detached from Diluc entirely, trying to focus on him.

"Honestly, I'm about ready to die, but one concert before I do isn't the end of the world." He joked, "Now... Let's get practicing. I'm rusty and I don't want to fuck this up."

"... I'll be getting things ready for you." Diluc said, feeling forgotten amongst the chaos.

"Right, and..." You pressed a kiss to Diluc's cheek, "Thank you."

It only took one more moment for you to focus back on the others, bringing them all to where they'd practice...

You wondered, was Diluc really intending on just showing up last minute?

Did he ever practice?

Well...

You were about to find out.

...

Everyone was set up. The instruments, everyone was dressed in suits--even Rosaria and yourself. Rosaria insisted she did not want to wear a dress, and you decided that since everyone else was wearing a suit, you'd wear one as well, appearing uniformly.

It was unbuttoned a little further than what was considered professional, but... hey, it looked good, even if Rosaria really looked like she was about to commit an accidental act of public indecency...

Everyone was there, except...

Him.

"Do you actually have that lead singer?" Rosaria asked, addressing the elephant in the room, "He hasn't been in a single one of our rehearsals..."

"Of course I do, he's just..." You hesitated, "He's not the most social. I promise, I promise... That he'll show."

There was a silence, you couldn't help but just sit there... Wondering in terror if, despite everything, Diluc wasn't going to show. You knew he was mad about you planning him into it without his consent, or even knowledge, but... Was he really going to punish you like this?

It was a bit cruel, but you couldn't blame him. You sat down, and sighed, head in your hands. Venti trotted over, sitting beside you and setting his hand on your back.

"It'll go great, singer or no singer." He reassured, "We've worked so hard, we can do it even if you dumb singer stands you up."

"Don't call him dumb," you scolded, lightly, "We... just... I don't know. I put him in a bad spot." You admitted, genuinely, seeing how Kaeya and Rosaria walked over, "He might be mad at me."

"Well, you're human." Kaeya reassured, "You mess up. If he can't accept that you'll mess up and cause problems sometimes, maybe he's a bit too rough on you."

"Yeah... and-I did apologize, I know I did wrong, but... We talked about it, and I'm working on not doing something so spontaneous again... But he also knows this means... a lot to me."

A moment of silence, and Kaeya got down on one knee, tilting your chin up to look at him.

"Hey sweetness," he said, softly, "It's alright. We're going to make him regret not showing, alright?"

Rosaria kneeled beside him, "We'll do it together, then I'll do it personally."

You sighed... then chuckled softly, pushing yourself to your feet.

"Thank you. With or without Mister No-Show, the show will go on." You declared... sure, it wasn't what was expected, but you can make it work..!

You hoped.

"Apologies... I'm not late, am I?"

You spun on your heel to look at who just walked in, Diluc... Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

And, as expected, he dressed perfectly.

A fine suit, somewhat similar to Kaeya's, however even if he had just as many buttons undone as Kaeya did over his chest, exposing just enough to make it interesting... it felt so much more... taunting when it was on him.

He even had a little bit of make-up on, some blush on his cheeks, eyeliner, some bright red lipstick that matched his hair, that was done up in a high ponytail...

"Rosaria, you owe me a drink." Kaeya said, and the woman just sighed.

"I'll just pay you."

You looked back at them, barely able to tear your eyes off of him.

"What?" You asked, "Did... Did you guys really make a bet over who the singer was?"

Kaeya just smiled, "Of course. Who would it be, rather than our lovely Master Diluc?" He gestured to Diluc, who didn't seem pleased in the slightest.

"Albedo." Rosaria said, flatly. "But it figures he'd scare us all."

You had a hard time imagining Albedo singing in a concert, but you could argue the same about Diluc.

"Well, it doesn't matter," He shot a glance at Rosaria, "I hope you're ready," Kaeya spun the drumsticks around in his hands, walking back over to the drum set, "Because we're about to start."

"Shouldn't we get a rehearsal with our singer, though?" Venti looked at the concealing curtain--it muffled their conversation, but it wouldn't muffle them all playing.

"We don't want them to hear a rehearsal, we want the first thing they hear to be our best." You declared. "Diluc ... You're ready for this, right?"

You were terrified he was going to mess this up--after all ... He may not have practiced at all!

"Of course," he held your hand, "I know how much this means to you. Now... let's get this started.

...

Lights blaring, the instruments deafening him from all angles, Diluc just counted the beats in his head, trying to keep in tune with it all... Oh, he felt like he could die right here.

No dying.

No giving up.

The show must go on.

Microphone in hand, he began--

"It's a wonderful life-"

He held his hand out to the crowd,

"Please could you kiss my name,"

For the single, not even full beat he had, he blew a kiss to the audience, hearing shouting in turn,

"When the music's oh-ver?"

With the following words, he gesturing to the lights above,

"Turn off the lights,"

They even managed to flicker,

"It was such a sweet time, could you pray for me, my friend?"

He held his hand to his chest,

"It's starting over tiime,

Take oh-ver the night, take over the blue time-

If you heard that screaming shout in your miiind!

Take oh-ver the shine, take oh-ver the shooting star,

All I was talking 'bout was musiiiiiic!"

Even if he could barely even hear, the crowd just exploded before him, the lights too bright for him to see it--

But he wasn't done yet.

The concert continued until it all finally met its end, Diluc panting desperately, getting those gulps of sweet air back into his lungs, looking briefly back at the others, seeing how they, themselves, were full of excitement and joy, even Venti was cheering as though he was part of the audience--not a single one of the entire band was left without being completely exhausted and winded, and Diluc felt that the desire to crash right onto the ground wasn't exclusive to him.

The cheering from the audience was slowly muffled as the curtain closed, signalling the end of this exhausting ordeal.

They all left their instruments on the stage, and walked backstage. Rosaria was the first to start guzzling water, and then she sat down with a huff. Venti just sat down on the floor, leaving the others to nearly trip over him.

Diluc walked backstage last, after everyone else had gotten in, and he was breathing heavily.

"Diluc," Kaeya said, "Holy fuck, I didn't know you could sing like that."

"I didn't either," Diluc admitted, genuine. You jumped at him, hugging him tight.

"Diluc... that was insane! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You cheered, and he just huffed.

"I know this means a lot to you," he said, softly, and you backed off from the hug... something about him seemed off.

He was swaying a little from side to side, like he wasn't entirely there.

"I think," Diluc said, slowly, "I just need to lie down."

Kaeya was motionless for a second, then his eye shot open and he dove at Diluc, just barely catching him before he crashed to the ground, completely limp in Kaeya's arms,

"Diluc!" You were horrified, and Kaeya just unbent his knees from catching Diluc in an awkward position. "Kaeya... what-"

"He's fine," Kaeya said plainly, shifting to haul Diluc over his shoulder better, "Big liar, he didn't outgrow this."

He brought Diluc over to a table, and you pulled out the chair so Kaeya could have him sit, positioning him so his arms were folded over the table, and he gently set his head on his arms.

"Outgrow this?" You asked, eyeing Diluc cautiously.

"Mhm," Kaeya hummed, "I guess he never told you."

"No, I'm still... confused."

Kaeya folded his arms over his chest, "Well... When Diluc gets overwhelmed, he usually hates it, right?"

You nodded,

"Then he just curls up and tries to hide from whatever's messing with him. But--If he's having a good time? He gets overwhelmed and excited and... then he just passes out. That was the code--I think I just need to lie down, he said that as a kid right before he passed out."

"But," you argued, "I've never seen that."

Kaeya shrugged, "We thought he outgrew it, but I guess he just hasn't had a chance to get that excited in a long time."

"... Do you think," you said, worriedly, "He hated this?"

"No," Kaeya set his hand on Diluc's back, gently rubbing a small circle between his shoulderblades, "He loved it, trust me.

"... He'll be okay. Just give him some time to recover."

If you looked close enough, you could see him smiling.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc #kaeya #venti #rosaria #bark writes #fluff #fluffy bark #anonymous #request

[gastricpierrot]

Title: Ships in the Night 

Series: Genshin Impact

Relationship: ZhongVen

Rating: T

Summary:

Barbatos had always wanted to enjoy a Ludi Harpastum with Morax, making so many empty promises with him over the years to go together one day. A festival of fun and games close to his own heart, it’s a change of pace he always thought Morax could appreciate. They finally manage this after all these centuries, yet Barbatos just had to be an idiot at the very end.

He rests his arm over his eyes, exhaling a slow breath. He's such an idiot.

Also on AO3

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

The sheer idea of festivities lasting two whole weeks sounds absolutely exhausting to Morax, yet even at the peak of the Ludi Harpastum, Mondstadt’s people do not seem like they are slowing down anytime soon.

Morax’s tugged along by the cuff of his sleeve, Barbatos in the lead as they weave their way through the packed streets. Songs and cheer fill the air, mingled with the scents of various food, flowers, and of course, the city’s beloved wine. Barbatos himself is already tipsy despite it still being rather early in the day, having downed almost every pint of free alcohol that’s offered to him by the countless vendors they come across. There's an occasional stumble in his steps, but his spirits remain high as he shows Morax around with wholehearted excitement, a bright grin across his lips, a lively blush on his cheeks.

Morax finds the myriad of sensations dizzying, too many sights and sounds and scents bombarding him all at once—and he holds on to Barbatos’ presence for balance. Barbatos, in contrast, seems to harbour no such qualms, flitting from one booth to the next with ease, only pausing to look back when he finds something he wants to recommend. The apples from this store, the handcrafted trinkets from another, the freshly made Mora Meat from yet another one. He isn’t shy when it comes to haggling—even though Morax did remember to bring his wallet for once (much to Barbatos’ exaggerated horror) and he’s certain there would be enough between them to last the day—but it seems to be a normal occurrence to the vendors. Morax watches their good-humored banters, sees how comfortable Barbatos is around these parts and in these situations.

It’s clear how much he loves Mondstadt, and how much he is loved in return.

They spend the rest of the afternoon like this, navigating the packed streets, Barbatos showing him his favorite spots, stopping only for the occasional breathers and snacks. Mondstadt’s festivals have a very different atmosphere to them compared to those back in Liyue, unique in a way Morax can’t exactly pinpoint. Rowdier, perhaps, with the people more comfortable when it comes to mingling with strangers. Morax has lost count of the number of times he’s been randomly approached to be given some sort of gift, or to be invited for meals or gatherings he politely declines. Perhaps the community here is simply tighter knit as a whole, as compared to the more family-centric people of Liyue.

Barbatos leads him to a park at some point, declaring it’ll be their last stop before he has to prepare for a performance after sunset. Morax notices how it’s mainly families and children in this area, not a single wine vendor in sight. There are booths for games instead, where players will have the chance to earn various prizes if they win. Each is packed with groups of youngsters, all vying for the best toys on offer. Shrill, excited voices cheered and jeered at one another; in a way inciting even more chaos here compared to the people crowding the market lanes.

“Why don’t you give one a try? Even adults are allowed to play, you know,” Barbatos suggests when Morax stops to watch a child’s attempt at a game of throwing hoops over cups marked with numbers. Morax glances at him, sees his wayward smile.

“I don't think it’d be fair to the young ones if I did,” he says, to which Barbatos only barks out a laugh.

“Show off,” he retorts, and even Morax cracks a smile.

“Um, excuse me.”

They’re just about to continue on their way when a voice calls out to them. Morax turns around, not seeing anyone until it occurs to him to look down. A lone young girl stares at him wide-eyed from below, a messy flower crown clutched tightly in her hands.

“Mister, please have this!” She offers the item to him, her words slightly rushed from her enthusiasm. Morax has turned down countless gifts throughout the day, but this time, at least, he knows better than to needlessly upset a child.

So he kneels down to be a little closer to eye-level with her. “It is an honor to receive your gift.”

She stretches out her arms, and Morax tips his head to let her crown him.

The child giggles in delight as she steps back. “You really are like a prince, mister! Bye-bye!”

Morax watches her run back to her parents a little way off, warmth blossoming in his chest as he waves his own farewell to her. He gets back on his feet, and finds Barbatos looking at him with an expression he’s never seen him wear.

“It suits you,” he says, like he actually means it rather than the usual sarcasm Morax’s expected he would go for. He supposes he must be quite the sight, a full-grown adult with a falling-apart flower crown perching lopsided atop his head.

“It probably suits you more, Bar—” he stops himself just in time, remembering that they’re here only as humans and nothing more, and that they should at least make a bit of effort to keep up appearances. Though, it's not like anyone within their vicinity would actually be paying attention.

“Venti,” he tries anyway, and immediately breaks into a frown. The name still feels strange on his tongue, no matter how much he’s tried to practice saying it.

“Gods, it does feel weird hearing you call me that,” Barbatos admits with a slight wince, but Morax could somewhat tell that he appreciates it, nonetheless. It's the way his features brighten at the sound of it, the way his eyes would light up ever so slightly. It is, after all, a name bestowed upon him by a beloved friend many years ago. Barbatos has not been called such for a long time. “But yeah, no, you should keep that. Have some fun, let loose a little!”

Morax doesn’t exactly see how wearing flowers in his hair contributes to “letting loose”, but he doesn’t argue.

They have time to go grab something for dinner just as dusk falls, and then Barbatos is bringing him to what he claims to be one of the main final highlights of the Ludi Harpastum: an event of all night drinking and fireworks. There are several spots around the city hosting such sessions, all offering endless streams of food and alcohol sponsored by Mondstadt’s major wineries. Barbatos will be performing in the one held at the city square—the main place, he boasts—first of the few bards invited there to further enliven the mood.

Dozens of chairs and tables are set up across the open space, most already packed with people by the time they get there. There’s a small stage at the very front, the sides of the venue lined with booths in charge of the food and drinks. Waiting staff donning bright uniforms dart from table to table, expertly weaving their way around the already half-intoxicated crowd.

It’s almost overwhelming; the energy, the pungent scent of food and strong wine, the sheer rowdiness of the people gathered around. Morax stops by a convenient tree a respectable distance away from the square, just far enough that the chances of a random drunkard stumbling over and dragging him in would be minimal.

And “I think I’ll stay here,” he says, when Barbatos turns to him with raised eyebrows.

“Don’t want to join in?” he asks, despite Morax’s answer already being obvious.

“I’m sure I can enjoy the atmosphere well enough from here.”

“Hmm, fair enough.” Barbatos shrugs after a quick gauge of the distance between them and the heart of the event. Then he smiles, hands on his hips. “Anyway. I’ll get going first, then. I’ll come find you when I’m done?”

“If I haven’t already left,” Morax says, because he genuinely does not know how much of this unbridled revelry he can tolerate. Even now, part of him wants nothing more than to walk off and find somewhere quiet to wind down for the rest of the evening.

Of course, his statement immediately gets Barbatos whining. “At least wait for me!!!”

“Just go before you’re late.” Morax shoos him off, though he doubts anyone present currently retains even the slightest sense of time.

“Fine, fine!” Barbatos relents, cheeks still puffed, “but I’m going to throw rocks at you if you really leave without me, alright?”

Morax halfheartedly assures he can throw as many rocks at him as he wants if it comes to it, then with a sudden rush of wind and a final harrumph, Barbatos turns on his heels and strides towards the stage, his people cheering his name the moment they spot him.

“Looking forward to what you have for us tonight, Venti!”

“Venti you rascal, you really made us wait this time!”

“Venti, you’re looking lovely as ever!”

Venti, Venti.

The descent of a god, unknown to his own people.

Barbatos takes his seat on the single stool placed on the stage, crossing his legs just so, his posture relaxed yet brimming with elegance. The wind carries the sounds of his lyre all the way to where Morax stands, clear and proud amidst the endless chatter of the crowd. He begins with a slow tune, a moment of calm cutting through the chaos. Demanding attention.

Quiet. Listen.

Morax too, catches himself holding his breath.

And then Barbatos strums another note and smoothly transitions into a new tune, and the crowd explodes with excitement. His next song matches more to the barely suppressed merriment around him, its melody upbeat and festive. He’s skilled at involving his audience, easily encouraging them to sing and dance along. Charming, radiant. He captivates all who behold him—even Morax, despite such genre of music never being to his tastes. It’s a rather belated realization to come to, but seeing him fully in his element like this, Morax can tell that Barbatos’ boastings indeed hold their weight, and that he truly has mastered the craft of a bard.

Barbatos leaves the stage around the middle of his fourth song, slipping into the crowd as he continues his performance. He sings and twirls and dances, one with his people—and somehow still, Morax spots him managing to down some drinks in between. His current song involves a back and forth; he sings one line, then prompting the nearest person to follow up. It seems to be a piece everyone’s wholly familiar with, all who enthusiastically join in barely stumbling on their turn.

Morax notices too, after a few minutes of observation, that it also seems to be endless; constantly looping around the chorus. He wouldn’t put it past Barbatos for doing this deliberately, for as long as it continued, he could drink.

And he does drink. He drinks so much that it’s almost impressive, since he only has a few seconds at a time to gulp down his alcohol. Morax wrinkles his nose from afar, already dreading the stench he would exude when he returns later.

Morax doesn’t see it, at first. He can pinpoint Barbatos’ general location based on the reaction of the people and when he hops onto benches and tables for some elevation, but he’s partly obscured from his sight most of the time. It’s only as Barbatos makes his way further towards the back of the crowd, closer to where Morax stands, that he notices how else some members of his audience interact with him.

People who take advantage of the general unruliness of a large-scale drinking session in a packed area, hands that touch places past normal boundaries. His thighs, his back, his neck.

Barbatos does not falter, either too immersed in his own performance or too intoxicated to realize and care. Or perhaps he is simply used to this, having been a bard for as long as he’d been a god. Morax does not know.

Fire flares in his stomach the longer he watches, filling his mouth with a bitter taste. It is truly an uncomfortable sight. Intoxication is not consent, nor is silence. Morax could not stand it for long, reaching for the flower crown on his head and tossing it aside before striding toward where Barbatos is lingering within the crowd.

He grabs a person by the wrist and wrenches their hand away from Barbatos, his grip hard enough to make them cry out. Barbatos must’ve heard the commotion, turning at the sound and eyes widening in surprise when he sees Morax right there behind him.

Morax glares at him—a misdirection of his anger, he admits—but he only breaks into a satisfied grin, and finally decides to move his song along. He leaps onto the nearest table, feet stepping delicately between the many glass mugs piled across its surface. His tune reaching a crescendo, his finale presented with flourish.

His audience, quite literally, erupts into cheers and applause.

Barbatos half stumbles down from the table amidst the cacophony of the reception, Morax moving to catch him just as his knees buckle beneath him and he loses his balance. He's trembling, his forehead visibly damp with sweat.

And before Morax can properly help him get back on his feet, he throws up all over his sleeve.

xXx

Barbatos supposes his age must finally be catching up to him.

Or perhaps he’d simply overestimated himself, thinking that participating in the Ludi Harpastum’s all-night drink session wouldn’t be too different from his usual gigs, only with a little more people.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have stepped off the stage in the first place, shouldn’t have danced quite so hard, and should’ve saved the drinking until after his performance ended. The lack of air, the thick haze of human odour mixed with the saccharine scent of alcohol, his own sweeping movements—Barbatos had not expected them to combine into an experience quite so nauseating, even for a god.

He vaguely remembers throwing up once more while Morax carried him somewhere, then a third time in a washroom he didn’t recognize. Then he draws a blank after that.

He stirs to find himself on a bed, his clothes replaced with a set of loose cotton pajamas and his body smelling faintly of floral soap. His head throbs with a dull ache, but he figures he’s seen worse days. More than anything, he feels dehydrated, his lips dry and throat like sandpaper. He braces his palms against the mattress, and slowly pushes himself upright.

He's in a dimly lit room, probably one in an inn not too far off from the venue of the drink fest. He hears the sounds of running water from behind the door opposite the bed; Morax is probably there cleaning up after the mess Barbatos made. There’s a jug on the bedstand, a fresh glass of water already poured out for him. Barbatos’ chest warms as he reaches for it, endeared by how fastidious Morax remains, despite everything.

He returns to lying down a little later, admittedly just a little bitter at how things have turned out. He’s had such an amazing day. He'd always wanted to enjoy a Ludi Harpastum with Morax, making so many empty promises with him over the years to go together one day. A festival of fun and games close to his own heart, it’s a change of pace he always thought Morax could appreciate, since he’s constantly at work. They finally manage this after all these centuries, yet Barbatos just had to be an idiot at the very end.

He rests his arm over his eyes, exhaling a slow breath. He's such an idiot.

The sounds of the shower eventually come to a stop, leaving a ringing sort of silence in their absence. The ruckus of the ongoing party not far off carries all the way to their window; people laughing, cheering, singing. Fireworks bursting in the sky.

He'd wanted to show Morax the fireworks too, damn it.

He lowers his arm and turns when he hears Morax stepping out of the bathroom. He’s wearing a similar set of pajamas as himself, though admittedly it looks so out of place on him that Barbatos almost lets out a snort.

“Hey,” he greets, because he’s genuinely not sure how else he should start. Morax meets his gaze from behind his damp fringe, his face betraying no particular emotion.

“Hey,” he returns, every bit as curt. Barbatos cracks a lopsided smile, and decides there’s no point trying to go around it.

“Listen, Morax, I’m so sorry things ended up like this,” he says, twisting to lie on his side facing him. Morax doesn’t respond to that immediately, and neither does Barbatos see much of a change in his expression.

“Barbatos, how many times do you think I've had to handle your drunk antics over the years?”

Barbatos winces at that. “Now you’re making me feel even worse.”

“You should,” Morax agrees, running a towel over his damp hair. “It’s about time you realize how self-centered and inconsiderate and – “

“Okay, okay, I get it!!” Barbatos interjects before his feelings are actually hurt. “I’m sorry!”

Morax only shoots him a meaningful look and says nothing else, knowing at the end of the day he’d do it all over again anyway. Barbatos supposes he can’t blame him; he’s more aware than anyone that he’s been the way he is for more than a millennium, never once giving even the slightest indication that he would change.

Maybe it’s time he considers, after all that’s happened today, but he decides he’ll mull over that some other time.

His eyes follow Morax as he steps away to hang his towel on a rack, his confusion growing when Morax proceeds to stand rooted in place, frowning slightly and arms crossed as though deep in thought. Barbatos stares at him for a solid couple of minutes before speaking up.

“What are you doing?”

“Thinking about what I should do next,” Morax answers, in all seriousness. Barbatos can’t believe this man is for real. He bursts into laughter, earning himself a puzzled look.

“You really don’t know what ‘rest’ means, do you?” he marvels, then scooting closer against the wall and patting the empty spot before him. “Come here and lie down, we’ve been up and about the entire day. Aren’t you tired?”

Morax’s frown deepens by a fraction. “But I don’t think there’s sp-”

“There’s more than enough space for the both of us!” Barbatos assures, chest light with newfound mirth. Morax really is too much of a gentleman at times. “This bed’s huge!”

Morax remains hesitant for a moment longer, but with just a little more gentle pestering, he relents in the end. “Then, if I may.”

Barbatos watches as he moves to take the space beside him, watches the way his long hair falls over his shoulders, the way the collar of his shirt shifts to reveal the hollow of his throat, a small window of his chest.

Morax fully lies down, and Barbatos realizes there really is just enough space for them to stay still like this. Huh. Has Morax always been such a big person? Or maybe the bed really isn’t that wide to begin with, and whatever alcohol lingering within his system is just messing with his perception of space. Not that it matters at this point. Morax still smells fresh from his shower, his uncharacteristically messy hair and comfortable clothes giving him an air of innocence Barbatos never expected to see on him. Unguarded, youthful. They’re a mere half-arm's length apart, close enough that Barbatos can almost feel his every exhale of breath.

“So how did you find the Ludi Harpastum?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper, perhaps part of him being rather conscious about the little distance between them. Did it live up to the expectations he set for him by constantly inviting him to one over the years, he wonders? Did Morax at least enjoy himself a little with all the festivities? Barbatos noticed he’d mostly followed his lead, trying the many things he’d recommended to him, visiting only the places he brings him. Barely making many choices for himself. It’s too late at this point, yet Barbatos still worries about being overbearing without meaning to. Could Morax really have had fun without as much as a freedom of decision?

“It was...” Morax trails off ominously, pausing to weigh his words while Barbatos braces himself for the continuation. “Different, I suppose.”

“A good different or a bad one?”

“Just different,” Morax affirms. “It certainly feels livelier than the celebrations in Liyue.”

“Then,” Barbatos perks up, a little more hopeful now with the way Morax has responded so far. “What did you like most?”

Morax hums to that, silent in a moment of contemplation. “If I were to choose, I quite enjoyed some of the places we visited.”

He goes on to recall the few locations he’d found a liking to, admiring the history and cultural significance of each that Barbatos had explained to him, the various architectural designs and artistic liberties that define Mondstadt’s trademarks. The motifs of the cobbled streets, the poems framed and hung inside windmills serving as charms for Barbatos’ blessings, even the theme of the patterns carved on many a doorplate—Morax seems to have been quite fascinated by them.

He wears a different expression when he talks about the things that strikes his fancy. A slight upturn of his lips, the faintest crinkles at the corner of his eyes. Even his voice adopts a different tone, laced with a smallest hint of excitement—perhaps even joy, because someone cares to listen.

Barbatos could listen to him like this for an eternity, if he had the chance.

“You’re staring at me,” Morax stops to say at some point, a slight knit across his brow. Barbatos supposes he must be wearing quite the expression, for him to look at him like that. But he could not help it; after all, who wouldn’t be utterly captivated by someone as quietly radiant as this god before him?

“I think I'm in love with you, Morax.”

Are the words that take form, a confession he’s surely taken long enough to make. He no longer even remembers when was the first time it’d dawned him, that his feelings for Morax had progressed into something that wasn’t platonic. How many years has it been since he started seeing him with a different sort of admiration, with the barely suppressible urge of wanting to be closer to him?

Morax blinks at him once, twice. Processing what he’s just heard; understandable, as it really had come out of nowhere.

Then he averts his gaze, reaching to cover his mouth as a wave of red creeps up his entire face.

“Why don’t you tell me that again when you’re sober?” he mumbles into his hand, and Barbatos effectively short-circuits for a moment.

“This is the most sober I’ve been all day, though???”

Morax is adamant, shifting to turn away from him as though to physically end the conversation. “That’s what a drunk person would say. Now stop talking and go back to sleep.”

“No, no, no, isn’t this a little sudden?? Morax??” Barbatos is half laughing now, seeing how desperately Morax is trying to deal with his own embarrassment. It is surprisingly contagious, though; even he’s starting to feel a little shy the longer he badgers him.

“Morax?? Heyyy, Morax? Rex Lapis?”

And yet he refuses to let it stop him. He can see how red Morax’s ears are even from behind him like this. Barbatos pokes at his back, a mix of fondness and mischief welling in his chest when the idea occurs to him.

He squirms forward, closing the little distance between them.

“Zhongli.”

Morax tenses at that, the slightest reaction that Barbatos would’ve missed if he as much as blinked. He's...really cute when he’s like this. Part of Barbatos refuses to believe that this is happening. Morax, the Geo Archon, the honourable Rex Lapis, Adepti Prime—has this absurdly adorable side to him.

“Zhongli,” Barbatos dares to say again, just to see what other sort of response he could elicit from him. “Zhongli.”

He leans out of the way just in time before Morax twists to face him once more, bracing himself for a well-deserved smack—but is instead pulled into a tight embrace.

“You’re so obnoxious,” Morax says, his exasperation obvious even in his quiet tone. Barbatos smiles as he returns the hug with just a much intensity, leaning into their contact with a sigh, a swell of his heart.

Morax is much warmer than he could’ve ever imagined.  

xXx

They say that both the Geo and Anemo Archons are fond of disguising as humans, often descending from their divine residence in Celestia to mingle with the commonfolk of their respective nations.

No one knows what are their preferred appearances, as oftentimes they are indistinguishable from the everyday person. No one knows if they preferred to present as men or women or even children, or if the rumours of them taking human form even hold any truth. After all, who’s to say they wouldn’t choose to appear as an animal, a sprite, or perhaps a fragment of the elements they embody?

Not many in the nations of Liyue and Mondstadt have ever had the chance to see their respective gods, nor to realize that they’ve lain eyes upon them at all. It is something the people have accepted to simply leave up to chance, as there is no point to obsessing over the miniscule possibility of coming face to face with the deity they worship. There are enough mundane things worth paying attention to on the daily; the clarity of the skies, the specials available in the markets, the trees newly bearing fruit.

A particular sight has grown more common as well within the borders of the two neighbouring nations in recent years, one of a pair often spotted strolling together through the busy city streets, the bustling villages, and even the vast wilderness, when the weather is agreeable.

Should one have their stars aligned just right, they may just chance upon a certain bard and gentleman, both usually engrossed in jovial chatter or some lighthearted bickering no matter the location. Oddly out of place sometimes, seeming right at home the rest. Greet them if you wish, and they would usually respond warmly in return. But take heed, at times you may notice their hands linked and fingers intertwined, the pair lost in a world of their own—and that will be your sign to give space, for even gods would appreciate a little time to themselves.

#genshin impact #zhongven #venzhong #venti (genshin impact) #zhongli (genshin impact) #this was just named nghgh.docx because thats exactly how i feel about them #fanfiction

[littlepotatowizard]

Dandelion Seeds

A/N: Oh, this is the first time that I’ll be posting a fanfic after a long time. Hope this turns out good ‘cause I’m running on angsty music and 3 cups of coffee right now (I’m going for a fourth cup, just watch me) lol.

Edit: Link for Part 2

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Ah, sweet dandelions. Always waiting for the wind to take you with it aren’t you? 

A lone boy sat on the edge of a rock in Starsnatch Cliff. Lyre in hand, soft notes flow out of the instruments, singing of a melody in the days past. As the notes are plucked on the delicate strings of the lyre, the wind surrounding the figure gently picked up, seemingly trying to pass on the melody to a distant land. 

The melody, which brought peace on the area, slowly comes to a decrescendo, signaling the coda, was halted by a high-pitched squeal. The boy, startled by the noise, plucked the wrong string that caused him to wince. 

‘Well, so much for peace, I suppose?’ He thought as he tried to look for the source of the distraction. Looking down from his perch, he spotted a young girl running away from a group of Hillichurls. Seeing how terrified the girl was, he leapt from his place in an inhuman height. Observing the distance between the girl and the monsters, he landed with great force in their midst, startling both parties. 

“Hey, I don’t know what she did for you to chase her out, but will you stop it? She’s so young and she’s already scared enough.” He told the monsters as he stand in indignation. This was met with angered snarls and growls. Sighing in exasperation, he summoned his lyre. This action of his was perceived as a threat by the Hillichurls which caused them to charge at him. 

With an elegant strum on the strings, a small, but strong whirlwind was created and took the monsters in its swirling torrents, sweeping them away from the two. A sound of awe was heard in the forest and the boy faced the young girl. 

“That was awesome Mister! Thank you for saving me!” The young girl said as she bows in gratitude. The boy deduced that she must be an outsider from Mondstadt based on her gestures. 

“You’re welcome! But, you see, this area is dangerous to be alone in. Where are your parents?” He said in a friendly voice so as to lessen the girl’s fright. The young girl gently shook her head and faced him with a carefree smile. 

“I don’t have my parents right now, We are just visiting from Liyue! I have my Grandma right now.” She said, her smile brightening. “What is your name, Mister?” She asked with a tilt of her head. The boy laughed at the enthusiasm of the girl before him. “My name is Venti and I’m the best bard of Mondstadt! How about you? What’s your name?” 

“My name is Nozomi!” 

---

After rescuing Nozomi from the Hillichurls, Venti took it upon himself to bring her back to Mondstadt. While on their way to the walled city, he learned the reason as to why she was all alone in the forest. 

“We we’re on the way to the city when I asked my grandma about the glowing round flowers.” She started while happily picking a stray pinecone on the base of a tree. “She said that they are Dandelions. When you blow on them, the flowers are then scattered in the wind together with its seeds.” Venti hummed, urging her to continue. 

“Grandma picked one and showed me. When she gently blew on it, the flowers fly into the air and I asked her if we can get some more,” She then picked up a couple of carefully plucked dandelions to show him. “But Grandma said that there are more in Mondstadt. When we arrived, she asked me to wait in a restaurant called “Good Hunters” while she goes to meet someone...” Her voice grew slowly quieter and she started to fumble on her blue dress. 

“She promised that she’ll go with me but it was so long so...” She trailed off. Venti sighed shook his head. 

“-so you decided to go on your own?” He finished. Nozomi timidly nod her head. Venti noticed her crestfallen expression and felt a gentle smile work its way on his face. 

“Worry not now, young one! I, Venti. the greatest bard in Mondstadt and in all of Teyvat, will get you back with your beloved Grandma!” He said joyously, in hopes of making the young girl smile again. Nozomi looked up at him with happiness dancing in her eyes. 

“Thank you, Venti! You’re the greatest bard in all of Teyvat!” She declared as they both laughed and hurried to the city. 

---

It was already dusk when they entered the city’s gates. A frantic woman awaits on the stairs leading up to the plaza. Venti recognized the woman and called Nozomi to follow him. The woman, who noticed the bard, let out a sigh of relief. 

“Oh, lord Barbatos, thank goodness that you found her, Venti!” the woman said as she rushed to them. Venti, in return, smiled gently as he took Nozomi from behind him to bring her before the woman. 

“Do not worry, Sara. She is safe, although, it is in good graces that I found her. I found her in Starsnatch, being chased by Hillichurls.” At this, Sara’s face drains of color. She immediately kneeled to the girl and checked her for any injuries. 

“Miss Sara, I’m okay! Mister Venti saved me from the monsters with his powers!” Nozomi said with a toothy smile. Sara shook her head slowly at the statement. 

“Nozomi, please do not do that again. Your Grandma was worried when I told her that you snuck out.” Sara told her while leading them to a table and offers them Radish Veggie Soup and Sticky Honey Roast. Both Venti and Nozomi marveled at the delicious foods laid in front of them, the scent wafting through the air and enticed their hungry stomachs. Sara softly laughed at their antics. 

“Please eat up! I know that walking all the way from Starsnatch to Mondstadt must have been quite a trip!” She said as she turns to Venti. “Again, I am truly grateful to you, Venti. Thank you for bringing her back. Her Grandma will be delighted once she comes back.” Venti looked at her and saluted while his cheeks are stuffed akin to a squirrel. 

The night was then filled with laughter and perhaps a choking sound from a certain hungry bard. 

---

Alas, after eating their fill, Venti prepared to leave, as he needs to visit a place before the night gets too deep. Nozomi gently tugged on his green cape with a look of wonder and expectation in her eyes. 

“Mister Venti, will I see you again?” She asked with an eager smile on her face. Venti mirrored her expression and tapped his chin in a contemplative gesture. The anticipation of the girl for his answer was broken by his gleeful laugh as he messed her hair. 

“Perhaps! Maybe the winds will allow us to meet again!” He said and placed his hands on his hips. “But for now, I must go! You see, the greatest bard of Teyvat never rest!” Venti laughed as Nozomi repeats with a ‘Yes! The Greatest Bard indeed!’. Venti bid his farewell to his newly found friend and headed to the place he goes to when he needs to think. 

---

“Took you long enough.” 

A voice greeted him as he neared the enormous tree in Windriser. He gently laughed and held out his hand to the elderly woman waiting on the steps of the Anemo Archons’ statue beneath the tree. The elderly woman took his hand and allowed him to lead her up to the base of the tree. 

“I will lift us up, do not loosen your grip okay?” He asked, even with full knowledge that the woman trusts him fully with her life. 

“As if I will let go, you mischievous bard!” She quipped. Venti chuckled as he summoned a gentle gust of wind that lifted them up to one of the tree’s branches. When they reached it, Venti gently allowed the woman to settle down on it before doing so himself. 

They did not speak a single word for a while, allowing the breeze from falcon coast to sway the leaves and create its own natural tune. The peace and quiet washing over their being. 

“It seems life has been quite good on you huh, [Y/N]?” Venti started. He heard the woman beside him softly laugh at his words. He looked at her quizzically, puzzled as to why she is laughing. 

“Is that your idea of a heartfelt greetings to me, Barbatos?” Upon hearing his name and the jest she threw at him, he sputtered and looked at his side, rubbing the back of his head. 

“W-well, you see...we did not particularly end in good terms and um-” he frantically said, which caused more laughter from the woman. 

“You are still the same, huh?” [Y/N] nostalgically murmured as she closes her eyes to enjoy the gentle breeze passing the tree once more. This caught Venti’s attention as he focuses his sight on her. Her face radiates peace and the happiness of reminiscence. “All of the things that happened before are beyond me now. I understand you and-” she paused, looking at him with gentleness in her eyes. Gentleness that was brought by the wisdom and the years she lived through. 

“I am sorry, only thinking of how much it hurts me, but not how much it hurts you more...” [Y/N] said quietly. 

Ah yes, that day is still fresh in his mind, for it happened in this very place too. 

///

‘Forgive me, [Y/N]...’ A silent plea resonated, hoping to reach the crying woman’s ears. 

Her pained, choked sobs pierces his heart like a hot knife. He cannot bear to hear her be in pain. He badly wants to craddle her to his arms, kiss all her pain away, vanquish all her tears and sing to her all the songs that he can conjure for he loves her,  but he cannot. If he allowed himself to, then, he will not be able to keep her away. 

‘Venti... why? Am I not good enough? Please tell me the very reason...’ She quietly asked, her teary eyes persisting on focusing to his beautiful aqua ones. Once the color of her favorite clear skies, now riddled with storm and unsure. 

‘I cannot hold you back selfishly...” Venti kneeled in front of her touching her cheeks softly, caressing her tears. His eyes looked at her with gentleness, though she can see pain beneath it. “You have so much for you. I am an immortal. I can live for so long, but you cannot. I-I cannot just hold you back from all the things life can offer that I cannot give to you...’ He told her as new tears welled up in her eyes. 

‘I can experience it all with you. All I want in life is you. You are more than enough for me. You... you are my happiness. My light.... please do not push me away from you, my Love...’ [Y/N] reached to touch his cheeks, trying to hold her lover’s face again. Her actions are desperate. She does not want to lose him like this. 

‘I promised you, no matter what, I will always love you, even at the very last of my mortal breath.’ [Y/N] said firmly, reminding him of the vow she gave him years ago at Starsnatch. 

Her words seems to have reached him as his face briefly flashed in reminiscence, but it was quickly washed over by seriousness as he shakes his head. 

‘I also promised you that I will do everything that I can to give you the life you deserve...’ These words of his made [Y/N]’s heart clench in dread. She knows his next words. 

‘But this is not the life you deserve. You should be out in the world, experiencing things and not be stuck here with me. Your time is counted, therefore you should be able to do what you want and not be held back in here just because of me.’ He told her as he touch his forehead with hers, lovingly caressing her hair and silently engraving the scent of it in his memory for probably the very last time. 

‘Is-is that it? J-just because I am mortal?’ [Y/N]’s question startled him. He looked at her in shock. 

“No! I- you misunderstand-’ ‘I do!’ [Y/N] moved away from him, removing his hands from her cheek. 

‘I do, Barbatos.’ His name was uttered with so much venom, it may as well kill his heart. ‘What can a mere mortal, such as I, offer an Archon like you? Love? Ha! Mondstadt’s people already love you. What is one compared to a city?’ [Y/N] said bitterly as she stood up, jumping from the tree branch that they were previously perched on. 

‘If you just wanted me gone before I expire, you should have directly told me.’  Venti tried to reach out to her as she began walking. The wind picked up, perhaps a reflection of the bitter end of their love and romance. 

‘Farewell, lord Barbatos’ 

///

After the remembrance of their bitter past, Venti reached out to hold her hand and looked at her with gentle, loving eyes. 

“I know, and it is past me too... I’m glad that you found your happiness now. She’s an energetic child, like you before.” He said with a knowing look at his eyes. [Y/N] laughed, unsurprised that he immediately found out. 

“Yes, yes she is. A rambunctious little flower. She probably took after her Grandfather...” Venti’s grip on her hand slightly tightened. His heart clench a little, but hid all his pain with a smile. 

“He’s a good man. He thinks of others before himself. Loving and selfless...” Unspoken words are left to the wind as they both understand the meaning. Venti caressed her hand gently as he watched the cranes beneath the tree. 

“I am glad you gave love another chance. It is all I wished for you, after that day...” He said as he longingly looked at the distance. Pushing down all the feelings that wants to resurface. 

“Do not give me that look!” [Y/N] said as she pinched Venti’s cheeks, stretching it slightly that makes him look like a squirrel. “Come on, I’m old now. Find someone your age, Old man.” She quipped at him, poking fun of his actual age which caused him to chuckle. 

“Then I am still qualified then!” He said with laughter in his voice. [Y/N] narrowed her eyes on him and flicked his forehead. 

“Seriously, no. You don’t.” She said sternly, sighing inwardly at the bard’s quiet laughter. 

“Venti, I am close to my sunset days.” She started. Her words silenced him as he held her hands once again while looking at the distance. 

“I know.” He said in reverie. His grip on her hand slowly tightening. 

“I know, but my love stays the same.” He declared “Maybe in the next life, we will meet again.” Venti looked at her with a knowingly sad smile. 

“When that time comes, I will never let you go again.”

[Y/N] smiled at him gently, a friendly smile that wishes to see him again. 

“Well, then, when I pass on, may I request one thing so that I can find my way back to you again?” She requested. Venti’s eyes widened with wonder and a questioning look on his face, but urged her to continue, fully willing to do whatever it is. She gestured for him to come closer to whisper her request. 

---

A day like any other greeted most of Mondstadt’s inhabitants, well except for a girl in black. Her face was covered by a black veil, her hands holding onto a velvet pouch. The people of Mondstadt who passes by her gave her sympathetic looks to which she nods at in recognition. She was mourning, but glad that the people around her were there beside her. Helping her move on slowly, but surely. 

As she was about to pass the plaza, the guards near the main gate pointed at something approaching. The people become alerted and awaited whatever is going to rush through their city. But all of their apprehension and panic was washed over by amazement and wonder. 

A strong gust of wind led thousands of dandelion seeds through the city, filling it with its sweet aroma. 

The girl opened her velvet bag and took out its contents: an anemo vision and a dandelion necklace. She smiled at the contents and clutched them to her heart. 

---

Sat atop the hands of the statue of Barbatos, Venti looked over the scene with a loving, gentle smile on his face as he strums his lyre, playing a sweet love song. 

“Do not take long, okay?” 

///

‘What is your request and why do you want to whisper it?’ he playfully asked her. [Y/N] laughed and urged him close. 

‘Well, when I pass on, go back to the Cathedral and then...’ Venti hummed to let her continue. 

“Let the wind carry all the Dandelions to lead me back to you.” 

#genshin impact #Genshin Impact Venti #Genshin Impact x reader #genshin impact venti x reader

[honeyrataxia]

deus nos iunxit.

“ nec sine te nec tecum vivere possum ; taehyung and jeongguk were united by destiny, not even death was able to separate them. ”

- ship ! taeyung x jeongguk

- genre ! oneshot, fluff, angst, greek tragedy!au, patrochille!au

- warings ! slight nsfw, mention of death.

it starts with taehyung’s fingers pressing into the soft skin of a fig. pulling apart and breaking it into two; exposing the flesh. he’s careful with it, setting one half down onto his plate, raising the other to his lips. before taehyung bites into it, his eyes meet with someone sitting across the hall.

and as quickly as he meets eyes with him, taehyung looks away, taking a bite from the half still cradled in his fingers. the taste of the fruit is sweet, and taehyung tries his best to keep his eyes away away away. he can feel the gaze from here, piercing and curious, and taehyung chews until his jaw starts to get sore. there was this unspoken aura that draped itself around jungkook’s shoulders thick like a cloak. that was his name. jungkook. he was two things.

𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤.

if there was a feeling that taehyung had while he was in the same room as him, it would be intimidation.

-

it starts with taehyung’s shaky breath, and jungkook’s strong and steady one. they are laying in a field of grass, sandals covered in dirt and sand from running across the beach and taehyung’s eyes glance sideways as he hears movement. jungkook shifts, turning to look at taehyung and there’s that gaze again, just like the beginning.

𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴.

« what is it? » taehyung speaks the words softly. he had barely caught up to jungkook during their race. jungkook was physically perfect, the gods gifted him as such. and taehyung? oh, taehyung was as normal as one could be in a world of gods and monsters and everything in between.

« nothing. » jungkook replies.

a lie.

« surely it’s something. »

jungkook laughs, and it sounds like chimes in the wind.

taehyung feels his heart start to beat in an irregular rhythm. it would always get like this when it was just the two of them. sometimes taehyung wonders why out of all the people in the world, jungkook chose him. taehyung, with his less-than-average fighting ability, and his dark sun kissed skin that made him stand out just a little more from the rest. it wasn’t in the good way, either.

« stop looking at me.. » taehyung mumbles, his cheeks starting to flush.

-

it starts with taehyung’s back arching slightly, his hips lifting into jungkook’s touch. taehyung can’t quite remember how they got here, how it started. the edges of his vision are blurry, drunk off the feeling of jungkook’s warm hands moving over his skin. jungkook’s bed feels bigger than it usually is, the room darker as if they are in a vault, locked away for no one else to see.

jungkook’s lips press themselves to taehyung’s inner thigh and taehyung inhales so sharply, if it was a blade it would cut his throat.

« jungkook » taehyung covers his mouth with his hand, scared that someone might hear.

« mmh? » jungkook lifts his head for the briefest of moments, hands sliding up taehyung’s sides, lips still at his inner thigh. jungkook indulges himself, and bites down on the soft flesh.

taehyung whines, covering his face with both hands now, his entire body warm and flushed. he’s embarrassed to the core, but his body responds to every touch and kiss that taehyung wants more but he doesn’t think his mind can take it.

« stop thinking » jungkook mumbles, his lips so dangerously close to there that when taehyung glances down he’s sure his heart stops.

jungkook grins, confidence making his chest swell and he drags his lips along the length of taehyung’s half-hard cock, eliciting the sweetest of sounds from taehyung. it’s a sound that jungkook would never want to forget. a sound that he wants to hear all throughout the night.

if the gods were watching, even their cheeks would be tinted pink.

-

it starts with the beating drums for war. the sound of feet stamping into the sand. of spears against shields, and agamemnon boldly declaring that he will win this war.

taehyung is terrified.

jungkook isn't.

« scared? » jungkook asks. to him, war was a curiosity. jungkook wondered if he was as great a warrior as his teachers had said. a great a warrior as his mother thetis had said.

« i don’t know.. » taehyung replies. his hands are trembling, and taehyung isn’t worried about his life being lost here.

he’s worried jungkook would lose his.

they would sit with the soldiers, until the horns were blown and the first march would begin.

-

it starts with taehyung pulling the helmet off his head, with hair stuck to his forehead and sand stuck between his toes. his hands are still trembling, they never stopped. jungkook was a beauty on the battlefield, that taehyung couldn’t help but stop to watch.

it nearly cost him a few times. jungkook would chastise him. tease him.

«watch yourself, don’t me! »

and now they sit in jungkook’s tent.

taehyung wipes the sand off his arms with a damp cloth, and jungkook had already picked up his lyre, fingers gently plucking at the strings. before all this, jungkook would make music. he would sit and play, and taehyung would sit and listen. now such things were a luxury. instead, jungkook would use his hands to fight, and taehyung would try his best to help.

but taehyung was pretty sure jungkook did most of the work anyways. in the battlefield jungkook had already made a name for himself. the greatest warrior. perhaps they would go home early after all.

« come here » jungkook says after a while, after the last note he plays falls deaf in the air.

taehyung takes a few small steps, before sitting next to jungkook on the pile of blankets and pillows they had made for a bed.

« i want to go home.. » jungkook speaks the words softly, his hand moving to hold taehyung’s.

« me too.. » taehyung squeezes jungkook’s hand so tight that jungkook makes an amused noise at the back of his throat.

« kiss me » jungkook whispers.

-

it starts with jungkook refusing to fight, and taehyung deciding that wearing jungkook’s armour would be a good idea.

taehyung musters all his courage, and surprisingly he sounds more like jungkook than he thought he would. with his helmet hiding his face, the troops follow blindly to the sound of taehyung leading the charge. the war had been going for too long, and the soldiers seeing jungkook’s armour despite not knowing who was in it, gave them hope.

taehyung just wanted the war to stop.

jungkook refused to fight after he fought with agamemnon, and jungkook not being on the battlefield made things look bleak. so taehyung takes matters into his own hands. if they won today, then they could go home. they could be back in the comfort of their grass fields, and tasty figs. taehyung could be back in bed with jungkook. in a bed that was too big for the both of them, and a room that got so dark it was like a vault.

except taehyung wasn’t as prepared as he thought he was. he thinks back to when he wasn’t worried about losing his life.

as taehyung takes his last breath, spearhead buried deep in his chest, the last thing he thinks of is jungkook, and how lonely it would be in the afterlife without him.

jungkook.

-

it starts with jungkook crying out so hard that the gods peer down from olympus with their brows furrowed.

« taehyung.. » he chokes out the words, tears clouding his vision as he sees the love of his life wearing his armour. if he wasn’t so full of pride this would have never happened. taehyung, beautiful taehyung, lifeless in his arms. taehyung, so sweet and careful, with a smile that made jungkook so happy, was gone.

jungkook feels two things.

𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸.

war is disgusting, jungkook thinks. he holds taehyung’s hand so tightly, buries his nose in taehyung’s hair and if he could, jungkook would turn back time far enough to the moment that when they were told to go to war, jungkook would say no.

he makes sure taehyung is buried properly, so that if he sees him in the afterlife, he would hold him and never let go.

taehyung.

-

it ends with jungkook finally meeting his match. an arrow through the heel, a blow so final, that jungkook can’t help but hold excitement at the thought of seeing taehyung again. he tells whoever is by his side to make sure he’s buried properly and he closes his eyes, eager to be with taehyung after being alone for so long.

the afterlife is.. different.

taehyung makes a home close by the entrance in case the other half of his soul comes to join him. hades finds it amusing, but gods always did find mortals amusing anyway.

when jungkook arrives, there is a light so blinding, and so consuming, that time stops for a second or two. taehyung’s soul bursts, and the feeling of having jungkook by his side again is nothing he can describe. it tastes better than the sweetest figs back home. felt better than the sea breeze by the beach.

« you’re finally here.. » taehyung says. a part of him should feel guilty, because jungkook is dead, but the rest of him feels joy. he’s no longer alone.

« i can’t be without you for long. » jungkook replies, and when taehyung hugs jungkook, when he feels that familiar warmth and smells that familiar scent, everything falls into place.

if there was a feeling that taehyung had while he was in the same room as him, it would be love.

[sola-invinctus]

30DD #3: Symbols of Apollon

↪️ Click here for a link to the 30 Days of Deity Devotion Challenge and credit for the above image goes to @dappermouth here

Apollon has many symbols and attributes to himself and his image, so this may a bit of a long and messy post. However, I’m on mobile and don’t know how to do a “read more” line here. Either way, before I begin, I want to give a quick shoutout to @falanx for her great Appalachian Apollon correspondences post. I adore reading about people’s local cultus and it’s quite a list. The following might also be used as correspondences as I do magic with this deity.

Common attributes:

The Lyre: For anyone with even a cursory knowledge of Ancient Greek religion or mythology, it’s quite obvious that Apollon is often depicted with a lyre. He’s the god of music and poetry, ruling over the oratory arts, along with leading the muses in their respective forms of art.

A Bow and a Quicker of Arrows: Just like the above detail of Apollon as a musician, he is equally depicted as an archer with his bow, sometimes ready to shoot. He is the god of archery and these tools, but it also refers to his golden/silver arrows. According to mythology, no one can feel these arrows but his shot is fatal, which is a metaphor for Apollon as a plague god, and so, these arrows are the cause of illness and sudden death itself. As both the Letii synchronized with the titans ruling over the sun as moon, their arrows began to become symbols of their rays of light as well.

Laurel Branch or Wreath: Apollon is often depicted wearing a laurel wreath or carrying a branch as this particular tree is sacred to him, which I will mention later on. But due to its mythology, the tree is also scene as a symbol of nobility, and wearing it denotes Apollon as a noble figure.

The Sun: Something that anyone associates with Apollon is the sun itself. Both him and Helios were the Greek gods of the sun but some times and places had them as one god or Apollon as solely in charge of it. And so, the sun easily has a strong connection to him.

Amber (UPG): Amber is associated with the sun and solar things in lots of lore and mythology. In descriptions of hyperborea, a mythical land beyond the northern wind that Apollon is said to retreat to, there is lots of amber. And a few other reasons I can’t remember off the top of my head.

Plants: Apollon has plenty of plants associated with him through various myths, which include

Bay laurel: According to myth, one of the women he loved, the nymph Daphne, was turned into a bay laurel tree, to escape him, and so, out of sadness, he wears it as a reminder of her. And thus, the origin of laurel wreaths, but also an attribute of noble status.

Larkspur/hyacinth: Similar to the above one, the hyacinth flower is named after one of his lovers who died and became a flower, Hyacinthus. Although, it’s likely that this myth more often referred to larkspur.

Cypress: You guessed it! Yet another dead lover becoming some sort of plant.

Henbane: Correspondence wise, it seems natural for a poisonous plant to be sacred to the god of plagues, and in this case, also one that may have been used to help induce the Pythian oracles in their trance state, along with oreandar. Henbane has been recorded as Herba Apollonaris for this reason.

Sunflowers (UPG): Every devotee or follower or deviantart artist of Apollon naturally associates this plant with him as the god of the sun, to the point that I can imagine how many people think it officially is, despite it being a new world plant. Personally, it works anytime he wants to pull up a flower for synchronicity.

Animals: Dear god, Apollon has a lot of animals, and depending on the time of day, I think I could probably name at least six, so I might miss one or two. It should go without saying that my absolute favorite animals of his are the wolf and the crow. Some of these are more gentle and others more scary, but something interesting about the myths connected to some of them is his way of claming that scariness as his own beast.

Crows: This generally seems to apply to all black corvids, such as crows, ravens, and jackdaws, maybe magpies as well if he chooses to. These are birds of omen especially with disease and sudden death, and fairly common birds in some places so it’s easy for him to “appear” in this particular animal. And my personal #1 fav animal.

Wolves: My favorite epithet of his is actually Apollon Lyceus, the wolf-god, but it shows his intense side, and ties into “Apollon as conquering” with all his tough scary bits. No bias at all here, clearly. Apollon is one of those things that changed wolves from a cliche to symbolically significant animal for me.

Snakes: An instance of taming the beast and making it your own, Apollon grew an association with snakes from the event of killing the Python Delphyne, in which he inherited all the snakes at the temple there. I’ve always loved snakes but not as much as the other two and he really isn’t as much of a snake spirit as others.

Cicadas: Cicadas make music and come out to the dance in the summer heat, so how couldn’t they be an animal of his? A couple of different Greek writers associate them with him, as well as with necromancy, so two birds one stone.

Mice: Another one of his animal epithets is “mouse-god” and with its own strange history, but mostly relating to regional cults and the oracular symbolism of mice in ancient times. It makes sense, though, with some of his other aspects.

Swans: Everyone little kid’s Greek mythology book mentions the regal majestic swans, and Plato himself talked about how these servants of Apollon sing a song of joy when they die to celebrate that their soul will reach Apollon.

Dolphins: Probably the weirdest sounding one, this animal has to do with his aspects as a god of protection while traveling and association with the sea, and his part in some founding stories where he transforms into a dolphin to lead sailors.

#30 days of deity devotion challange #Apollon #Apollo #Hellenic #Hellenism

[starswornoaths]

GAME OVER

:3c

Aymeric was absolutely certain that he looked ridiculous, sprinting off after his dog down into Foundation in full Lord Speaker regalia. More ridiculous still because of how he had often spoken of how mild mannered and well tempered his companion was. 

“Vardr!” He called sharply in agitation when he realized the oversized, over fluffy dog was making a mad dash down into the Firmament. 

Exasperated, but at least grateful he had no other sessions to attend to today, Aymeric gave chase. As he trotted down the stairs his stomach sank as he saw Vardr barreling toward a peculiar but spacious looking cottage completely ensconced in a greenhouse. He prayed none of the glass would get damaged if Vardr charged at it—

His stupid, clever, stupid, stupid, too smart for his own goddamned good dog managed to open the greenhouse door with his paws and snout against the door’s handle, and promptly slipped inside. Already groaning in frustration, he picked up his jog again and scrambled to find a polite way to apologize for his dog’s breaking and entering. The door swung open wider when he drew near to reveal a woman in her front yard, tending to her vibrant, verdant garden.

The dread of his dog injuring someone gave way to curiosity when Vardr slowed to a walk at the sight of her, happily circling around her skirts and prancing for her. The woman, still facing away from Aymeric, knelt down to enthusiastically ruffle Vardr’s fur. He seemed delighted, promptly flopping down on his side in the grass and wriggled into the affectionate belly rubs that followed.

(Grass, in Ishgard, Aymeric mused. What a peculiar thought. He couldn’t recall the last time he had seen it.) 

“Pray forgive me!” He said breathlessly once he had trotted up to the threshold of the woman’s yard, just outside the open door. “I thought him better mannered than—”

“He’s no bother— I’ve seen him around before.” She reassured him with barely a glance over her shoulder. He still could not make out her face. “Please, come in and shut the door, lest the cold hurt my plants.

Aymeric dumbly obeyed, stepping inside. When the door closed the warmth of the greenhouse enveloped him, there was a peculiar sense of nostalgia with it— a sense of coming home that he was absolutely...almost certain that he had never felt before. Without thought, he stuffed his hand into his pocket and rummaged for a key— 

A key? Why did he think he had a key? He did not live here.

When she lifted her head and turned to face him, Aymeric was bowled over with the peculiar feeling he was familiar with her. With mismatched eyes of blue and green and little pale blue flowers woven into the ebony hair she looked as a spring nymph but for the scars that had carved their way across her lips and down into her neck.

She smiled at him in a way that struck him to his heart. It felt as if she knew him.

Vardr, upset that his pets had been interrupted, sat up with a huff and nosed his head under her palm. Even as she didn’t look away from Aymeric she huffed a laugh and gently pet his head soothingly. 

“Are you well, my lord?” She asked gently— and he realized he must have looked ridiculous, gawking at her so.

“Quite— I beg forgiveness on Vardr’s behalf.” Aymeric cleared his throat and bowed deeply. “He has has never done something so reckless, I have not the faintest idea what got into him.”

The smile on her face turned wincing, and something deep and instinctual demanded he make that better, even as he had no clue why he felt so.

“He’s a spirited boy.” She replied, and he found he rather enjoyed the low alto of her voice, soft and soothing. “But really, you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad for the company.”

The way she spoke was so familiar that for a moment he forgot they did not know each other— forgot, at least, until he made to say her name only to find he had no name to form on his lips. Or, rather, he shouldn’t. They had never met before— 

“Where are my manners— Aymeric de Borel.” He held out his hand in introduction.

The faint upset in her expression momentarily grew— she might have thought she had hidden it, and perhaps if he had not been studying her face to see how it was so familiar, he might have missed it, but it made that ache in his heart twinge. What was happening to him?

When she reached out to shake his hand, she instead gently grasped it, turned it carefully in her hold. With her free hand, she traced his knuckles with her fingertips. It struck him as odd, but he found himself unable to pull away.

“You’ll never be allowed to remember me,” she whispered, her smile gone. When she lifted her head again, her eyes swam with tears. “Will you, dear one?”

“Wh—”

His question died on his tongue in a cry of pain when the ringing in his ears started. A light burst forth from behind his eyes. His head felt as though something deeply intrinsic to him was trying to burrow out of his skull. He fell unconscious long before he had felt himself hit the ground.

There was a light overhead. He felt it press against his eyelids to fill him, that stubborn sunlight— and surely nothing more than sunlight. The first thing that struck him as he returned to himself was that he was warm, and lying in...grass? In Ishgard? How curious. When had he last felt grass here?

Aymeric forced his eyes open. When the sunlight streaming through the glass proved too much and he brough his arm up to shield him, it felt made of lead. Vardr nosed at him, and the wet cold of his nose helped Aymeric ground himself better. Despite the bone deep ache in his bones, he sat up slowly—

And his gaze fell upon a striking, heavily scarred woman. With eyes of sea and earth and forget-me-nots woven into her hair, she looked as a servant of Nophica, knelt at his side surrounded by such green and warmth.

“What—” He tried to ask when she graciously held up a hand.

“You were chasing your dog— he got into my greenhouse. You slipped chasing him, my lord.” She gave a nod, though the way she avoided looking at him confused him. “But I’m glad you’re unharmed.”

Vardr sat between the both of them, fluffy tail thumping on either side of him eagerly. Aymeric struggled to recall a time where his dog looked so pleased.

“Forgive me— and my dog.” He threw Vardr a wry smile as he forced himself to stand. “It would seem I could do to train him better. Pray permit remove him from your home and trouble you no further.”

“You’re both welcome over any time. It’s no trouble.” Said the woman. “It would be nice to have you over again.”

“It must have been the blow to the head— have we introduced ourselves? I’ve forgotten your name.”

“We did, Ser Aymeric.” The smile she gave him make his chest ache. 

Before she did, there was a...a moment, a recollection he couldn’t place flickered in the back of his mind, where he saw her— her, she has a name, you know her name, something in him insisted— strumming softly on a lyre, those scarred, full lips forming such beautiful music.

“Remember me, though I have to say goodbye,” that false memory of her sang in aching intimacy.

“Serella.” The woman replied, her gaze locked on Vardr.

Something about the name felt right and not. Correct, but not right. He could not place why. Ella feels better, his heart whispered enigmatically as he took in her radiance.

“A pleasure— though pray forgive me, I must be off.”

She nodded and bent to give his dog a few more pets. Vardr whined, bumping his head against her hand.

“Look after him. He’s a bit lost, but he’s noble and good.” Serella spoke— but still kept her eyes on Vardr.

Aymeric felt as though he were not the one being spoken to, and thus did not respond.

“Come, boy.” Aymeric patted his thigh, trying to shake the fog that was already beginning to filter in his head. The warmth of the greenhouse and the brightness of the sun was making him vaguely like taking a nap. When Vardr whined and tried to press flat against Serella’s leg when she stood, he frowned. Vardr had never done that with anyone before. “Vardr.”

Vardr’s harness and leash were still on— and normally when Aymeric took the leash in hand Vardr was ready to go. This was not normally; with a sad cry as though he were struck, Vardr pulled taut against the leash with everything he had to stay close to Serella— a perfect stranger!

“It’s alright, Vardr.” The woman shushed him, already turning to step inside. “Go on.”

Even after he’d stepped outside of the greenhouse, Vardr continued to whine.

“What has gotten into you, boy?” Aymeric asked sharply as he stuffed his hand in his pocket in search of a key.

Lock up before you leave home, some lost part of him spoke up in reminder.

He froze— why was he looking for a key to an unfamiliar woman’s greenhouse? That was ridiculous. He had never been here before.

By the time he made it back up the stairs from the Brume to Foundation proper, he forgot about the little corner of spring rooted into the very Firmament of Ishgard. Again.

#ffxiv #Serella Arcbane #Aymeric de Borel #I am as ever your shield #game over asks #non canon ending #...ngl might make it an AU tho #ty for the ask!!! #vesnaint

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

6th June >> Mass Readings (USA)

Saturday, Ninth Week in Ordinary Time 

    or 

Saint Norbert, Bishop 

    or 

Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Saturday, Ninth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Green)

First Reading

2 Timothy 4:1-8

I am already being poured out and the crown of righteousness awaits me which the Lord will award to me.

Beloved: I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who will judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingly power: proclaim the word; be persistent whether it is convenient or inconvenient; convince, reprimand, encourage through all patience and teaching. For the time will come when people will not tolerate sound doctrine but, following their own desires and insatiable curiosity, will accumulate teachers and will stop listening to the truth and will be diverted to myths. But you, be self-possessed in all circumstances; put up with hardship; perform the work of an evangelist; fulfill your ministry.

For I am already being poured out like a libation, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith. From now on the crown of righteousness awaits me, which the Lord, the just judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me, but to all who have longed for his appearance.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 71:8-9, 14-15ab, 16-17, 22

R/ I will sing of your salvation.

My mouth shall be filled with your praise,

with your glory day by day.

Cast me not off in my old age;

as my strength fails, forsake me not.

R/ I will sing of your salvation.

But I will always hope

and praise you ever more and more.

My mouth shall declare your justice,

day by day your salvation.

R/ I will sing of your salvation.

I will treat of the mighty works of the Lord;

O God, I will tell of your singular justice.

O God, you have taught me from my youth,

and till the present I proclaim your wondrous deeds.

R/ I will sing of your salvation.

So will I give you thanks with music on the lyre,

for your faithfulness, O my God!

I will sing your praises with the harp,

O Holy One of Israel!

R/ I will sing of your salvation.

Gospel Acclamation

Matthew 5:3

Alleluia, alleluia.

Blessed are the poor in spirit;

for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

Mark 12:38-44

This poor widow has given more than all others.

In the course of his teaching Jesus said, “Beware of the scribes, who like to go around in long robes and accept greetings in the marketplaces, seats of honor in synagogues, and places of honor at banquets. They devour the houses of widows and, as a pretext, recite lengthy prayers. They will receive a very severe condemnation.”

He sat down opposite the treasury and observed how the crowd put money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow also came and put in two small coins worth a few cents. Calling his disciples to himself, he said to them, “Amen, I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury. For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

—————————

Saint Norbert, Bishop 

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Ezekiel 34:11-16

As a shepherd tends his flock so will I tend my sheep.

Thus says the Lord God: I myself will look after and tend my sheep. As a shepherd tends his flock when he finds himself among his scattered sheep, so will I tend my sheep. I will rescue them from every place where they were scattered when it was cloudy and dark. I will lead them out from among the peoples and gather them from the foreign lands; I will bring them back to their own country and pasture them upon the mountains of Israel in the land’s ravines and all its inhabited places. In good pastures will I pasture them, and on the mountain heights of Israel shall be their grazing ground. There they shall lie down on good grazing ground, and in rich pastures shall they be pastured on the mountains of Israel. I myself will pasture my sheep; I myself will give them rest, says the Lord God. The lost I will seek out, the strayed I will bring back, the injured I will bind up, the sick I will heal, but the sleek and the strong I will destroy, shepherding them rightly.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 23:1-3a, 4, 5, 6

R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

In verdant pastures he gives me repose;

Beside restful waters he leads me;

he refreshes my soul.

R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.

Even though I walk in the dark valley

I fear no evil; for you are at my side

With your rod and your staff

that give me courage.

R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.

You spread the table before me

in the sight of my foes;

You anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.

Only goodness and kindness follow me

all the days of my life;

And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord

for years to come.

R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.

Gospel Acclamation

Matthew 5:3

Alleluia, alleluia.

Blessed are the poor in spirit;

for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

Luke 14:25-33

Everyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.

Great crowds were traveling with Jesus, and he turned and addressed them, “If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. Which of you wishing to construct a tower does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if there is enough for its completion? Otherwise, after laying the foundation and finding himself unable to finish the work the onlookers should laugh at him and say, ‘This one began to build but did not have the resources to finish.’ Or what king marching into battle would not first sit down and decide whether with ten thousand troops he can successfully oppose another king advancing upon him with twenty thousand troops? But if not, while he is still far away, he will send a delegation to ask for peace terms. In the same way, everyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

———————————

Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary 

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Genesis 3:9-15, 20

I will put enmity between your offspring and the offspring of the woman.

After the man, Adam, had eaten of the tree, the Lord God called to the man and asked him, “Where are you?” He answered, “I heard you in the garden; but I was afraid, because I was naked, so I hid myself.” Then he asked, “Who told you that you were naked? You have eaten, then, from the tree of which I had forbidden you to eat!” The man replied, “The woman whom you put here with me– she gave me fruit from the tree, and so I ate it.” The Lord God then asked the woman, “Why did you do such a thing?” The woman answered, “The serpent tricked me into it, so I ate it.”

Then the Lord God said to the serpent:

“Because you have done this, you shall be banned

from all the animals

and from all the wild creatures;

On your belly shall you crawl,

and dirt shall you eat

all the days of your life.

I will put enmity between you and the woman,

and between your offspring and hers;

He will strike at your head,

while you strike at his heel.”

The man called his wife Eve, because she became the mother of all the living.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

1 Samuel 2:1, 4-5, 6-7, 8abcd

R/ My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.

“My heart exults in the Lord,

my horn is exalted in my God.

I have swallowed up my enemies;

I rejoice in my victory.”

R/ My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.

“The bows of the mighty are broken,

while the tottering gird on strength.

The well-fed hire themselves out for bread,

while the hungry batten on spoil.

The barren wife bears seven sons,

while the mother of many languishes.”

R/ My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.

“The Lord puts to death and gives life;

he casts down to the nether world;

he raises up again.

The Lord makes poor and makes rich,

he humbles, he also exalts.”

R/ My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.

“He raises the needy from the dust;

from the dung heap he lifts up the poor,

To seat them with nobles

and make a glorious throne their heritage.”

R/ My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.

Gospel Acclamation

cf. Luke 1:28

Alleluia, alleluia.

Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you;

blessed are you among women.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Or:

cf. Luke 1:45

Alleluia, alleluia.

Blessed are you, O Virgin Mary, who believed

that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Or:

cf. Luke 2:19

Alleluia, alleluia.

Blessed is the Virgin Mary who kept the word of God

and pondered it in her heart.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Or:

Luke 11:28

Alleluia, alleluia.

Blessed are those who hear the word of God

and observe it.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia.

Blessed are you, holy Virgin Mary, deserving of all praise;

from you rose the sun of justice, Christ our God.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia.

Blessed are you, O Virgin Mary;

without dying you won the martyr’s crown

beneath the Cross of the Lord.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Either:

Gospel

Matthew 1:1-16, 18-23

For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her.

The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.

Abraham became the father of Isaac, Isaac the father of Jacob, Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers. Judah became the father of Perez and Zerah, whose mother was Tamar. Perez became the father of Hezron, Hezron the father of Ram, Ram the father of Amminadab. Amminadab became the father of Nahshon, Nahshon the father of Salmon, Salmon the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab. Boaz became the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth. Obed became the father of Jesse, Jesse the father of David the king.

David became the father of Solomon, whose mother had been the wife of Uriah. Solomon became the father of Rehoboam, Rehoboam the father of Abijah, Abijah the father of Asaph. Asaph became the father of Jehoshaphat, Jehoshaphat the father of Joram, Joram the father of Uzziah. Uzziah became the father of Jotham, Jotham the father of Ahaz, Ahaz the father of Hezekiah. Hezekiah became the father of Manasseh, Manasseh the father of Amos, Amos the father of Josiah. Josiah became the father of Jechoniah and his brothers at the time of the Babylonian exile.

After the Babylonian exile, Jechoniah became the father of Shealtiel, Shealtiel the father of Zerubbabel, Zerubbabel the father of Abiud. Abiud became the father of Eliakim, Eliakim the father of Azor, Azor the father of Zadok. Zadok became the father of Achim, Achim the father of Eliud, Eliud the father of Eleazar. Eleazar became the father of Matthan, Matthan the father of Jacob, Jacob the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary. Of her was born Jesus who is called the Christ.

Now this is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about. When his mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found with child through the Holy Spirit. Joseph her husband, since he was a righteous man, yet unwilling to expose her to shame, decided to divorce her quietly. Such was his intention when, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home. For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her. She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:

Behold, the virgin shall be with child and bear a son,

and they shall name him Emmanuel,

which means “God is with us.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

or:

Gospel

Matthew 1:18-23

For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her.

This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about. When his mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found with child through the Holy Spirit. Joseph her husband, since he was a righteous man, yet unwilling to expose her to shame, decided to divorce her quietly. Such was his intention when, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home. For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her. She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:

Behold, the virgin shall be with child and bear a son,

and they shall name him Emmanuel,

which means “God is with us.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

or:

Gospel

Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23

Take the child and his mother and flee to Egypt.

When the magi had departed, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Rise, take the child and his mother, flee to Egypt, and stay there until I tell you. Herod is going to search for the child to destroy him.” Joseph rose and took the child and his mother by night and departed for Egypt. He stayed there until the death of Herod, that what the Lord had said through the prophet might be fulfilled, Out of Egypt I called my son.

When Herod had died, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, “Rise, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel, for those who sought the child’s life are dead.” He rose, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go back there. And because he had been warned in a dream, he departed for the region of Galilee. He went and dwelt in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, He shall be called a Nazorean.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

or:

Gospel

Matthew 12:46-50

Stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, here are my mother and my brothers.

While Jesus was speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers appeared outside, wishing to speak with him. Someone told him, “Your mother and your brothers are standing outside, asking to speak with you.” But he said in reply to the one who told him, “Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?” And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother, and sister, and mother.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

or:

Gospel

Luke 1:26-38

Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son.

The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary. And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his Kingdom there will be no end.” But Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?” And the angel said to her in reply, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God. And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren; for nothing will be impossible for God.” Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

or:

Gospel

Luke 1:39-47

Blessed is she who believed.

Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the infant leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, cried out in a loud voice and said, “Most blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And how does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the infant in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.”

And Mary said:

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord;

my spirit rejoices in God my savior.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

or:

Gospel

Luke 2:1-14

She gave birth to her firstborn son.

In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that the whole world should be enrolled. This was the first enrollment, when Quirinius was governor of Syria. So all went to be enrolled, each to his own town. And Joseph too went up from Galilee from the town of Nazareth to Judea, to the city of David that is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. While they were there, the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping the night watch over their flock. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were struck with great fear. The angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying:

“Glory to God in the highest

and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

or:

Gospel

Luke 2:15b-19

Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart.

The shepherds said to one another, “Let us go, then, to Bethlehem to see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” So they went in haste and found Mary and Joseph and the infant lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known the message that had been told them about this child. All who heard it were amazed by what had been told them by the shepherds. And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

or:

Gospel

Luke 2:27-35

You yourself a sword will pierce.

Simeon came in the Spirit into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus to perform the custom of the law in regard to him, he took him into his arms and blessed God, saying:

“Lord, now let your servant go in peace;

your word has been fulfilled;

my own eyes have seen the salvation

which you prepared in the sight of every people:

a light to reveal you to the nations

and the glory of your people Israel.”

The child’s father and mother were amazed at what was said about him; and Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, “Behold, this child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be contradicted and you yourself a sword will pierce so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

or:

Gospel

Luke 2:41-52

Your father and I have been looking for you.

Each year Jesus’ parents went to Jerusalem for the feast of Passover, and when he was twelve years old, they went up according to festival custom. After they had completed its days, as they were returning, the boy Jesus remained behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Thinking that he was in the caravan, they journeyed for a day and looked for him among their relatives and acquaintances, but not finding him, they returned to Jerusalem to look for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions, and all who heard him were astounded at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him, they were astonished, and his mother said to him, “Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety.” And he said to them, “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” But they did not understand what he said to them. He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them; and his mother kept all these things in her heart. And Jesus advanced in wisdom and age and favor before God and man.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

or:

Gospel

Luke 11:27-28

Blessed is the womb that carried you.

While Jesus was speaking, a woman from the crowd called out and said to him, “Blessed is the womb that carried you and the breasts at which you nursed.” He replied, “Rather, blessed are those who hear the word of God and observe it.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

or:

Gospel

John 2:1-11

The mother of Jesus was there.

There was a wedding in Cana at Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the wedding. When the wine ran short, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” And Jesus said to her, “Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servers, “Do whatever he tells you.” Now there were six stone water jars there for Jewish ceremonial washings, each holding twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus told them, “Fill the jars with water.” So they filled them to the brim. Then he told them, “Draw some out now and take it to the headwaiter.” So they took it. And when the headwaiter tasted the water that had become wine, without knowing where it came from although the servers who had drawn the water knew, the headwaiter called the bridegroom and said to him, “Everyone serves good wine first, and then when people have drunk freely, an inferior one; but you have kept the good wine until now.” Jesus did this as the beginning of his signs in Cana in Galilee and so revealed his glory, and his disciples began to believe in him.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

or:

Gospel

John 19:25-27

Behold, your son. Behold, your mother.

Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son.” Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[motherofwoofers]

I'd Rather Be Hibernating Ch 2

You can find chapter 1-15 on AO3

You guys like it dark and angsty right?

_________________________________________

Chat was still fighting off the continuous onslaught of glass, now shards once more. Baton spinning faster than her eyes could see.

"Come on out Ladybug. We're clearly on the same side, don't let these men make all the choices for you. You're superior to them in every way," Equalizer crowed at them.

"You know your taunts are really starting to become transparent," Chat bit out. An errant glass sliver slicing across his face. "Alright I admit, not my best. But my beautiful face?" Viperion's arm shot out across Ladybug's chest, stopping her as she began to tense up, ready to join the battle.

"The akuma is a crumpled paper in her pocket. It's power is deadly, we need a new plan," his face was grave. Ignoring the words Equalizer shouted to them. "We need to keep her from pulling it out."

"Keep her distracted Chat. We need a new plan," Ladybug called out once more. A quick slitted gaze shot over his shoulder, reading Viperion's strained expression. Chat nodded once.

"Of course, M'Lady," and he sprung from his spot with a grin. Agile as ever, even amongst the rapidly dropping temperature.

"My Lucky Charm?" She asked quietly, watching over Viperion's shoulder as he watched the battle. Thinking.

"I don't know. You never had a chance to summon it," his jaw was tense. "We need to get close to grab it, but her glass keeps us at a distance."

"I could bind her," Ladybug suggested, risking another glance. King Monkey was currently keeping her occupied with a barrage of snow balls, seemingly coming from all directions. Equalizer's irritation growing.

"Only if you get close enough. We still need to move in," he gestured for her to skim across the roof with him, dropping down onto the street below, Ladybug allowing him to take the lead. Viperion took her confidence to heart, tucking it away for another time, another place.

"Perhaps my charm will clear things up." Before he could stop her she called her miraculous into action, a faint shift of pink illuminating their side of the car.

"No wait!" Viperion turned back. But she was already holding a red spotted music box.

"Ah, Ladybug. You've come to join me. Clearly the superior heroine. I shall allow you to join me as my Vice President when I take over all of Paris!" The car was blasted with glass, blowing out the windows, shards scattering over them. Both heroes took to dodging to the side, rolling to opposite ends of the car: Ladybug's Yo-Yo spinning, Viperion in a low defensive position.

"I'll have to decline your offer, Equalizer. I already have my dream job!"

The barrage of glass kicked back up.

Chat swept in from behind, baton ready to sweep Equalizer's feet out from under her. But the woman spun, shards shifting into panes quickly. A glass wall rapidly building itself between them. At once it began to close into a dome as the Black Cat twisted and flipped, attempting to out race the trap.

"None of that now. I'll have to report this to Human Resources. Feline Resources?" she grinned, the dome sealing shut around him.

"Cataclysm!" Chat Noir called, his miraculous' dark power ready to eviscerate the dome as he charged for her. But Equalizer had already spun, expecting Ladybug to react quickly, teammate in need, and was not disappointed.

Ladybug's Yo-Yo snapped and coiled around Equalizer, pinning her arms down, hand buried deep within her pocket.

The dome shattered behind them, slivers slicing through the air in an explosion of pain and whistling wind.

And then Ladybug was screaming again. Body crumpling to the ground. Bones cracking and crunching sickeningly, all the clearer the closer they were.

Chat howled rushing forward-

 

Viperion's arm shot out across her body, stopping her from standing. His eyes searching hers, panicked. Heart pounding in his chest. Ladybug's brows furrowed at his concern.

"It did not go well," she asked quietly. He shook his head slowly.

"The akuma is a paper in her pocket. It's worse than anything Monarch has created so far," Viperion looked away finally. Ignoring the exchange of banter happening around him.

"Chat. Distraction," Viperion called to the cat themed hero.

A quick slitted gaze caught his eyes, reading the expression on Viperion's face immediately.

"Distraction coming up, Scales," and he leapt off, joining King Monkey's erratic efforts. The normal jovial hero looking worn down. A few cuts had made their way through his suit.

"We need to get in close then. But the glass is problematic," Ladybug leaned over his shoulder, chest brushing against his back. He could feel her slowing heart beat against his body, the reverberations second nature now. He had heard the beautiful melody for years.

"Dont mind me," she murmered in his ear, eyes trained on the battle. "I need your warmth to function."

"You can have it all," he replied quietly. Then he motioned for her to follow him down to road below, near silent as they slunk behind a car.

"My Lucky Charm?" Ladybug ground out, jaw tightening against the quickly dropping temperature.

"A music box. Don't summon it yet, it draws her attention," Viperion moved smoothly through his crouch angling around the front bumper. Making sure the other heroes weren't succumbing to her terrible power.

"A music box?! What am I supposed to do with that?!" Her frustration leaked out like a dark wave from her.

"Not sure, Dame. You always figure it out though. I believe in you." His words were smooth, caressing in the way that only he could, his miraculous amplifying his ability to keep calm in the face of danger, patient. "We need to move LadyBug, she's turning." Viperion motioned for her to cross to the other side of the street, where a frosted van was parked.

As they skittered across the street glass peppered their tracks. Faster than he thought he could, Viperion struck. A hand flying out to spin Ladybug out of the way, as errant shards sliced along his thigh, cutting deep into his suit and skin. But he kept the momentum. Shielding her as they spun, before they were out of harm once more.

"Ladybug! The Miraculous Heroine of all Paris! Join me at my side as I take over this city for all womankind!" They could hear the Equalizer moving closer. The confidence in her voice unnerving. Ladybug used the reflection in the side view mirror, watching her advance. A wall of window panes forming behind her. An impenetrable wall building higher and higher. Forcing the distraction team to move up the buildings, in an attempt to out pace the glass.

"I'll have to decline your offer. I've already found my dream job!" Ladybug called from behind the van, her Yo-Yo beginning to spin from her frozen fingers. Viperion tensed at the words he'd already heard too many times now. The horrific visions that formed in his mind. The scream that would echo through his mind for years to come.

"Too bad."

Glass panes began to form behind them as well. Equalizer's wall arcing into a large dome above them, attempting to seal Laybug and Viperion inside with her.

"Ladybug!" She turned as Viperion gestured, eyes quickly turning to scan the rapidly closing glass wall. Her Yo-Yo shot out, clinging to a lamp post 10 odd yards out. She half turned expecting Viperion to move with her, only to find him circling towards Equalizer, Lyre slipping from his low back to his hand. He was buying her time.

Yanking herself into motion, limbs dead with cold, she clung to the cord, sliding along the pavement in a race against the dome.

"Not so fast."

And then she was screaming. Blackness crowding into her vision. Searing pain exploding. Her body contorting tightly into itself, as if crumpled into a ball. Bones snapping beneath her suit, Tikki struggling to keep her chosen safe within, but it was too late. Her spine buckled, shattering in pieces; organs pierced-

 

Chat Noir was keeping the shards at bay, baton spinning fister than the eye could see. Exchanging taunts with akumatized victim.

Viperion's arm shot out across her body, keeping Ladybug pressed into the brick. His heart pounded. Eyes imploring. Fear and desperation was written across his face, and in the way his arm held her fast.

Ladybug searched his eyes, deep blue meeting the piercing green of his gaze.

"I'm failing, arent I?" She spoke quietly, waiting for his response, and when none came, she nodded tersely.

"Need a new plan M'lady," Chat spoke, as he rolled.

"Working on it, Kitty. What do we know?" She moved closer to Viperion, as he turned assessing once more. Trying to think. Her body slid up behind him, peering over his shoulder. The slow melody of her heart tearing his own to pieces. He was failing HER.

"The akuma is in her suit pocket. Right side. She's quick. If she has the chance to pull it out… " he couldn't finish the sentence. Ladybug understood.

"What's my Lucky Charm?" She whispered into his ear, watching King Monkey and his assault of snow balls. Equalizer was quick, her glass shards keeping everyone at bay. Her ppwers not only offered protection but a trap as well. A spider spinning her web, waiting to catch prey. Her glass ceiling theme obvious in the dome she captured her assailants within.

"Music box."

"Helpful," Ladybug muttered. "Something simple on this cold ass aay would be nice." Ladybug could feel the small *huff* Viperion released at her sour response. Though she could tell he only did it for her benefit, he was too tense to mean it.

Chat danced along the roof, exhaustion beginning to slow his movements, no quips bursting from his lips. A small trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. He leapt the next building over when Equalizer began trying to form a small dome around him. Quickly escaping. He chanced a look over his shoulder as he leapt. The close proximity of his teammates tugged at him momentarily, though it passed, just as fast. Especially once he caught a glance at Viperion's face. Something had gone terribly wrong. Chat Noir kept up his pace, moving in between satellite dishes and chimneys spewing smoke into the cold air. Wind whipping his hair across his face like razors.

A signal came from King Monkey and he landed lightly next to him. The powerfully built hero had lost his characteristic grin, body riddled with cuts, blood coating his suit in many places. Though a force to be reckoned with, he still lacked the impossible agility his lithe friend possessed.

"I can't get close, I'm not even sure how to get her to pull out her akuma, man." The King jumped up to a nearby lamp post. Glass chased him along as he ran the lengths of the buildings nearest.

"M'Lady's working on it," Chat bounded off the other way, attempting to split her attention.

"I'll bet you I can get it first!" The golden monkey hollered.

Back on the roof top, Ladybug was surveying: examining.

"She needs to be slowed down. If we can get her to pull out the akuma- King Monkey can temporarily disable it," her thoughts gave themselves voice. The heat Viperion's body shared with hers was helping to clear her mind, which the numbing cold had been trying to seize. "Chat could destroy it then." His steady breathing against her chest, calming.

"Slowed down," she mumbled. The light pressure of Viperion's Lyre against her stomach, clicked. "Viperion! Your Lullaby! You can slow her down enough that I can get in close and bind her with m-"

"No," he rarely ever interrupted her, but he couldn't risk it again. He *wouldn't* risk it again. "Not you."

"This is not your choice to make," she snapped, words sharp against his hair.

"No," he repeated quietly, nearly a plea. "Equalizer's not going to risk you stopping her. Monarch isn't focused on stealing our miraculous, she just wants chaos and destruction. Her akumas could care less about us, unless we are in the way.. Equalizer is sharp and calculated. She does not take risks, Ladybug, and neither will we." Ladybug was silent behind him, her melody thrumming against him, erratic but settling. Eventually she nodded.

"I'll call my miraculous. You slow her down. We need to get in close. She's going to attempt to seal you in. Make sure you are ALL within the dome with her, we cannot allow her to separate you. I'll let you run this, Viperion. I trust you." The last words were solid. No hesitation.

Viperion laid a hand over his heart briefly, nodding.

"Alright, let's get this done so I can curl up in bed," she gave him a light squeeze on his arm as he moved away. Watching his teal form move smooth and precise. It wasn't long before he was sharing the plan amongst the team, and they moved into action. Seamlessly fighting alongside one another. Dodging. Striking. Moving. The men were solid in their movements, years of fighting the never ending chain of chaos, leaving them to not only trust their teammates, but subconsciously move as one.

Ladybug slid to the other side of the roof, using the angle to her advantage, hiding as she called her miraculous. She trusted them enough to not fall apart as soon as she looked away. The music box fell into her open palms, wind whipping at her hands. Slipping down the side of the building, Ladybug moved along the street quickly, ducking into the near alley that would place her closer to the battle once more.

Equalizer was beginning to close them in. A sheer wall of glass followig behind. Shattering brick and shingles as it built itself, curving as it shifted. The face of the building she hid from collapsing into a heap of brick and dust. It sprayed debris past her, dirt plastering her face and suit.

Once the air cleared enough for her to see, she crouched, focused on their movements. King Monkey was using the curve of the glass to his advantage, running along its length, as he drew the deadly glass shards. Viperion pulled his Lyre smoothly into his hands, fingers playing softly. Plucking and strumming as a beautiful melody began to surge from him. The notes tantalizing and soothing. A tune she had heard him play for years now. It called to her in a way she couldn't understand. She had always assumed it was the power of the Lyre itself. The Lullaby a mesmerizing song that enchanted it's intended into a slow state. Exhaustion draining their movements.

Pulling eyes from Viperion, Ladybug saw Chat Noir move into position. A taunt slipping from his, lips something Ladybug missed. And Equalizer spun. An enraging glare coloring her very stance. Shards sliced through the air, hand plunging deep into her pocket.

It happened so incredibly fast, that Ladybug missed the initial action in her slowed state of mind and body. But one moment Equalizer's wrist was clearing her pocket- and the next she's gripping what appears to be the largest… *dildo* she'd ever seen.

The pure shriek of anger that tore from Equalizer's mouth, was enough to make one's chest stutter. Chat was clawing, nails shredding through the silicone toy, Cataclysm still heavy on his lips.

And then it was over.

#lukanette #luka couffaine #luka x marinette #tales of miraculous ladybug and chat noir #marinette dupain cheng

[seven-spirits-of-light]

Vance Ashera

A long time ago, a blue-tailed merman was born to a pod with his pink-tailed sister. His talents with the lyre were thought to be a gift from Apollo, and he lived a very care-free childhood. When a massive storm separated him and his sister from their pod, he felt so consumed in sorrow. For many nights, he surfaced near a human kingdom and played his sorrows out into the night, his melodies accompanied by his sister’s angelic voice. On an overcast day, the two young human royals took a small boat out for a day of leisure sailing. The merman and sister followed them, and when the weather turned violent, they saved the drowning humans, carrying them back to shore.

When he first laid eyes on the little human princess, his heart was immediately hers. Her hair was like the sparkling blue ocean, her eyes like the rubies they found in sunken ships. She was a goddess… she had to be. Before he could say or do anything, they heard the approach of other humans, likely calling out for the prince and princess. The merman and his sister dove into the water, darting into the shadows for cover. From that night on, they would perform for the royals.

On a moonlit night, the young princess snuck out to the beach and looked for him. He heard her calling and surfaced, awe-struck by her beautiful form standing on the sand, illuminated by the glowing moon. He met her where the waves lapped at the sand, looking up at her. She came down to his level… but neither said a word. Their language was different, but he did know a way he could communicate with her, to tell her that he found her breath-taking. He began to play his lyre, the thrum of the ocean accompanying his song. She seemed enchanted, smiling at him and openly admiring him. He stopped when she reached out to him, and he let her touch his skin, his tail, the shimmering blue scales. She in return let him see her legs. It was quiet, no conversation needed, just innocent exploration.

They met many times after that, sometimes just enjoying each other’s presence, other times he would play and she would hum or sing along. He even took her on a small ‘tour’ beneath the waves, his kiss allowing her to breathe. He hadn’t thought too much of it, but when morning came and he helped her back to shore, she kissed him, taking him by surprise. It felt… really nice.

The day that the war ships came was terrifying. He knew the princess would be in danger, and when his own sister dove forward to try and help, he followed suit. The waves had no mercy for them though, and after a short was fired by one of the Gorgons, the merman and mermaid were knocked into the churning vortex. He watched in horror as the great monster Abyss took the princess in his massive hands, but before he could see what happened next, the darkness swallowed him.

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

Vance was born to a couple of Missionaries who were stationed in Japan. His childhood was fairly normal and he got to do a lot of charitable work with his parents. He soon found an interest in music and his father helped him learn to play the guitar and bass. His skills improved daily, and he loved spending time with his father, playing together.

One night Vance was riding home with his parents. A storm rolled through, covering the road and making it difficult for his father to see. The car swerved and hydroplaned, skidding across the road and slammed into a tree. Neither of his parents survived, and the poor heartbroken boy was placed in an orphanage. He didn’t have much left, just his bass and a case of clothes. He spent a few years in the orphanage, and even though he made a few friends, they all left or were adopted. Vance however was always left behind. Finally, he couldn’t take the disappointment anymore. He gathered up his things and snuck out into the night. He wandered for a few days, making his way to Heartland City where he hoped to find one of his former friends from the orphanage. 

Instead, he met a girl with bright magenta hair. She introduced herself as Avina, and the two both discovered they had a passion for music. When he revealed he was homeless and wandering, Avina invited him to her house. Her aunt was reluctant at first, but she relented, letting him stay with them. From then on, Avina and Vance bonded over their love of music and eventually started a band. They became pretty famous. Avina met someone at the club they performed in, and he met both the guy and his sister. Shark and Rio. Shark was a little ‘tsundere’ but his sister Rio on the other hand… she felt so familiar. They both started hanging out, especially when Avina went out with Shark, and in no time at all they started dating too. 

They met some of Shark and Rio’s friends, and they got to go on adventures with the group. He met Yuma, Astral, Kaito, the Arclights and many other people. Vance enjoyed going on adventures with his girlfriend, his sister and his friends. 

Astral’s death rocked the whole group, and not long after that, Rio wound up in the hospital. He visited her every day for as long as he could… until one day when he arrived to discover Rio gone. A call from his sister sent him to the docks where Kaito was dueling Mr. Heartland, the bug-eyed bastard. Kaito was nearly beaten when Yuma and, amazingly, Astral appeared and took his place. They overcame the odds and absolutely crushed the madman. If only it ended there… but it just got worse.

Shark and Rio appeared, glaring down at Yuma and his friends. They were flanked by the Barians, terrifying and confusing Vance and his sister. She tried to ask Shark what was going on, but he told her he wasn’t Shark anymore… he was Nasch, King of the Barians. To prove it, they transformed… all of them, Rio included, though now she went by the name Merag. He had to physically hold Avina back from charging at the stone-skinned aliens. He ushered her into the vehicle pulled up by the Arclights, sitting in shock while Avina cried angry tears. As they drove, Avina noticed they were being tailed by the Barians. When she told Chris to slow down and she dove out of the vehicle, Vance followed on instinct. He knew his sister would need him.

The two took off, leading the Barians away from Yuma and the Arclights. Yuma and Astral *had* to stay safe. Avina and Vance ran through the deserted streets, taking shelter in a dark alley. Suddenly, two hands grabbed Avina, and another pair of snow-white hands clamped around him. Avina screamed, reaching for him and he stretched out his hand toward her. But it was too late. He was dragged through one of the Barian portals by Merag, hauled off to Barian World. 

They appeared in an elegantly decorated bedroom in the Barian’s Castle. He was hurt, angry and betrayed. He demanded to know what on Earth was happening, why was she siding with the people who had nearly killed them multiple times before! She explained that they knew one another, that he didn’t used to be human either. She told him of a time long ago when he lived in the ocean and she was a princess. She admitted she wasn’t sure why he hadn’t been brought to Barian world in the beginning, but now that he was there, she could help him. Merag told him about the process they’d planned out, affixing Barianite crystals to their bodies and letting the radiation of Barian World, change him into their true Barian forms. She told him that he didn’t need to worry as Nasch planned to do the same with Avina. 

Before he could say anything, Durbe appeared and told them Avina had requested to see her brother. Merag and Durbe lead him out to the throne room where Avina stood looking out at the Barian Sea, her back pointedly to Nasch. Vance called out her name, and she rushed to him, hugging him and frantically looking him over for any wounds while he did the same. When they’d confirmed the other was alright, Avina told him that she had made her decision. He knew what this meant… and he affirmed that he had, too. So they parted, Avina walking to Nasch while he went to Merag. 

Vance asked her if she wouldn’t mind becoming human once more… just for a little so he could say goodbye and get closure. She nodded, sympathy and pain in her ruby eyes. When she stood before him as a being of flesh again, he pulled her into his arms. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips. He murmured words of love to her as her hands lovingly cradled his face, tears spilling from her eyes. He pulled back, looking her directly in the eye. 

“I… I don’t care if I’m talking to Rio or Merag… to me, they’re one in the same amazing girl. I love her… I love you, and I will *always* love you.” he confessed, pressing one last kiss to her soft lips.

With pain in his heart, Vance shoved her into Durbe’s arms and turned, running alongside Avina, the two headed straight for the cliff overlooking the Barian Sea. He could hear Merag screaming and Nasch ordering someone to stop them. None of the Barians were fast enough, and the two jumped off the ledge, plummeting into the acidic sea. He didn’t even feel it. One moment he was falling, and the next, he was floating beside Avina, watching the Barians haul their bodies out of the ocean. Merag pounded on his chest, begging him to return… but it was too late. 

Avina and Vance were both approached by the 5 Spirits of Light, and after the 5 spirits explained what was going on, restoring their memories of their previous lives, they later joined up with Yuma, hellbent on saving the ones they loved from the hands of Don Thousand.

#Vance Ashera #Vance #The Merman #YuGiOh #yugioh zexal #zexal #Character Bio #original character #tw death #tw suicide #Rio #Rio Kastle #rio kamishiro #Merag #Marin

[my-name-is-apollo]

I'm so tired of people showing Apollo as a goofball. Many show him as this dumb handsome guy cliche. Various things that I've seen him being called as are boring, uncreative, dimwit, neutral bore. The worst when they compare him to Hermes, saying Apollo not as fun as Hermes or he's too stupid to pull tricks etc smh so so tired like give my boy a break y'all haters.

Wait whaaaaat? Apollo is a dumb handsome??? Wh wh-?? And compare him to Hermes and criticize him like wow?? They’re both different deities?? For anyone who think Apollo is a “boring”, “dimwit”, “uncreative”, “unable to pull tricks: - Apollo tricked the Fates, tHe FaTeS into getting high so that His bff could escape death. - It was Apollo who tricked Artemis into killing Orion. - Do you know His prophecies were damn tricky? You needed a lot of wits to solve it, which means He has a lot of wits to have created the riddles. He has an epithet dedicated to his tricky way with words. - In Iliad, Apollo shapeshifts Himself into a Trojan soldier and leads Achilles astray so that the Trojan army can take a break.- He cleverly avoided the duel with Poseidon (unlike Artemis who just launched herself against Hera and got beaten up)- Also He talks Athena into calling a break during the war. (I mean, if Athena has to listen to you, you know you’re not dumb)- If you ever think Apollo is uncreative then look at the punishments He comes up with for the mortals (who deserve punishment ofc) - Also He’s the God of Arts wtf does it mean by He’s not creative? - He regularly sang and danced along with Muses. Music and dance is boring??- He was in charge of Olympian parties before Dionysus came. He’s still a big part of Olympian revelries. - He created Cithara (modern: guitar) for the sake of parties because the lyre was too soft and that’s definitely…..boring. Huh? - He literally gave mathematical problems through His Oracles to the people who sought help from Him. It’s like, “need my help? Do math first”. Don’t say he’s uncreative and unintelligent. - Apollo is a part of the Olympian law council and yet has broken some laws sometimes. He’s chotic good. Not neutral bore wtf is that???- Socrates told that geniuses were born on the days scared to Apollo and Athena. Sure, He’s a total dimwit. Know your mythology before commenting people. Apollo might not show a tricky nature like Hermes but that definitely doesn’t mean He can’t trick and fool people. He’s intelligent, witty, talented and fun. Apollo is such a complex deity and people who cam call him boring and cliche are just unable to see and handle His complex nature.

#asks #me answers #apollo asks #hermes #i'm shook #iliad #mytho

[moonlifter-archive]

Aedwen’s Inventory --

Feel free to ignore this post! I’m just using it as detail storage for the time being.

Key Items --

Worn Locket || An antique silver locket she keeps with her at all times. The detailing has faded with time, displaying hints of a nervous rubbing tick over the surface. Upon closer examination, small roses and a delicate latticework of vines can be discerned in what’s left of the intricate details. In addition, a small silver charm in the shape of a gryphon sits adjacent the locket.

Silver Amulet || A simple silver pendant with large blue gem affixed in the center. Warding runes decorate the outer ring. It was a gift from Nathaniel after a fateful evening where she chanced upon a voidsent summoning in process, leaving her quite shaken. She keeps it with her always, despite the wards having worn off moons ago, and has taken to smoothing a thumb over the surface of the gem whenever she’s nervous.

Warded Amulet || A second gift from Nathaniel offered in apology for a rather sour departure from a recent visit to his office. It, like the first once was, is embelished in the telltale runes of wards, crafted to fend of voidsent. While it has not taken its predecessor’s place around her neck, Aedwen does keep it with her at all times, often in a pocket or in the satchel at her hip.

Wanderer’s Bloodletter ||  A red bow made of a rough yew branch and Oschon Roselle leaves. Said to have survived the Battle of the Gods’ Grip, absorbing the rampant winds left behind. The first of every three arrows shot is propelled by wind-aspected aether at a speed beyond spoken sight. Obtained after the fall of Alonzo Palonzo.

Rivière || A small dagger infused with the power of water. Can be charged and used to heal an ally, but the item requires maintenance from an enchanter or Goldsmith if overused. There is a blue gem embedded in its guard, and the pommel is excessively ornate. Obtained after the fall of Alonzo Palonzo. Aedwen keeps it on her person.

Bad Drawing ||  A strange drawing of what appears to be Aedwen and a blue-haired girl together. The quality is horrid, but the heart put in the artwork is tangible. Aedwen keeps it folded up and tucked away in her personal belongings always. Obtained after her time spent on Lucile’s Grace.

Alexastone ||  A small, ornery crystal capable of extremely limited speech. Can be customized. You may record yourself and have the crystal use it as reminders for any bell of the sun. Fueled by lightning crystals. Aedwen carries it with her, just in case. Obtained after her time spent on Lucile’s Grace. [Given to Denz de Bayle for safekeeping.]

Items of Interest --

Grand Painting ||  Found in one of Alonzo’s caches, this painting depicts an Ul’dahn lady whose name and identity is lost to time. As beautiful as it may be, you can not help it but detect something extremely malign about the painting, despite the lack of magical activity. Obtained after the fall of Alonzo Palonzo. It hangs on the wall of her studio, located in the Topmast Inn. [The painting has been taken down and placed into storage, now that Aedwen’s studio has been closed for the indefinite future.]

Gilded Locket || Recieved as a gift shortly before the Calamity, and subsequentially before his death, the captain of Pride of Moraby, R’jihn, parted with the heirloom in demonstration of his favour for Aedwen. She choses to keep it upon a bust stand on her vanity rather than wear it around her neck.

Dusty Instruments || A handcrafted harp and cello have sat unused in Aedwen’s inn room and personal studio, their companion music stands devoid of sheet music. An old, worn lyre sit atop a shelf in the room at the Red Herring, not far from the harp. It hasn’t seen much use, either.

Amazing Ascetic Aesthetics || Penned by a famed aesthetician. This text is said to remarkably cover—in meticulous detail—the multi-faceted subject of Color Theory. Obtained after the fall of Alonzo Palonzo.

Pretty Red Dress || A red dress, hardly worn. The initials ‘L.T.’ are embroidered on the inside collar. Obtained after the fall of Bluebeard. Aedwen keeps it nice at the back of her closet, for a rainy day. Obtained after the fall of Bluebeard. [The dress has since been tucked away into storage, and is unlikely to see any use again.]

Tieve’s Pendant || A beautiful pendant in the form of a small lily. The petals serve as its focus, cut from a single white crystal. It will heal the wearer of a small wound three times before breaking. Obtained after the fall of Alonzo Palonzo, Aedwen keeps this in her personal effects rather than around her neck.

Cowrie Shell || Obtained from an Order of Nald’thal sermon Aedwen attended with Svana. Despite her lack of devotion, she keeps the token with her at all times, concealed in a small pocket within her coin purse. [Given to Denz de Bayle.]

High Quality Oils || A gift from Nathaniel. A set of labelless paints of unparallel quality. He’s given her two sets thusfar, but she still has most of the first after deciding them too good to waste on any ordinary paintings.

Wooden Fish || A Starlight gift from Ruran. Hand carved by the knight, the ornament has earned a special fondness from the woman. The fish sits atop the crest of a wave, and overlooks her bedroom from the shelf it sits atop. Aedwen insists on giving it a name, but has yet to decide exactly what to call it.

The Bull of Ala Mhigo ||  A limited edition reprint of the famed erotica regaling the might of a local Ala Mhigan hero. Further inspection of the item reveals it to have been enchanted by a powerful mage into a extraordinary arcanist’s arm. Can be used as a weapon. Waterproof. Obtained after her time spent on Lucile’s Grace.

Worn Poetry Book ||  A poetry book penned by an infamous Lominsan criminal by the name of Simeon. The man’s fate lead him to never finish this hand-penned tome, but the sheer amount of aetherial ink makes it a perfect arcanist’s focus. Fireproof. Obtained after her time spent on Lucile’s Grace.

Ego's Big Box Of Nothing || A big box of nothing, a gift made for a pompous Nymian lord. The contents were supposed to reflect his "wonderful personality". ...It's an antique, but as itself, serves absolutely no purpose. Kept on a shelf with the remainder of her collections. Obtained after her time spent on Lucile’s Grace.

#aedwen morning #inventory

[chasedarren]

When they ask “Why do we have to write this?” I tell my students, “Because writing is thinking.” “I write to find out what I think” said Stephen King… So, I’m doing these Schubert recitals. Having performed the composer’s (other) famous song cycle, Winterreise, I know how long Schubert takes to spiral into your soul. It’s immediate for the listener but takes much longer for the performer to understand the many many layers of the descriptively simple Schubert/Müller cycles. That’s why I started nice and early! Nonetheless, the songs of Die schöne Müllerin have not yet opened to me and I’m a little worried. I have two weeks till the final performance to perfect the music and German but the real issue is the Geist of the songs. They are about many things: destiny, creation, love, masculinity, the idealized feminine, the Other, industrialization…but mostly, I think, they are about Nature. Romantic poetry exalts nature as a force that elevates, reflects or interprets human emotion. In Romantic poetry Nature is the beginning and the end, where Longing goes to see itself reflected, soothe its broken heart, or receive insights guiding it back to the source—the inner cause of human longing. In Müller’s Winterreise, set in deepest winter, the poet is cast out of the house in which he has found employment as a tutor after he falls in love with his charge. He travels further and further into the cold, ultimately to his death, but his path is one of awakening to everything around him, the outward expressions of nature guiding him inward to an understanding of the great mechanical Void. It is dark and stark, but there is a transformation that is beautiful and even uplifting in its Theravadic, Westworld apotheosis. Müller’s “Beautiful Miller Maid”, set in verdant, bright summer, is quite a different story. Like the wanderer of Winterreise, the protagonist leaves home, a mill where he was something of a journeyman, after asking for leave. He quickly decides to follow a babbling brook wherever it will lead him. In this sense he takes his fate in his hands, then quickly relinquishes any control over his destiny to nature. There is a moment after he sees the mill when he considers continuing on, continuing to be lead by the brook, but decides that the brook has lead him to the new mill (once he sees the beautiful miller girl there). He becomes obsessed and begins a love affair with her that occurs mostly in his mind. Ultimately, she chooses a lusty hunter over him and he is crushed into drowning himself in the brook. What is wild about this story is the miller’s relationship to natural world. The late-Romantic Müller always subverts the established relationship of man to nature. He does this in Winterreise by replacing ancient symbols with modern technological implements, (post horn for Wunderhorn, organ grinder for lyre). In Die Schöne Müllerin he subverts Romantic ideals by placing the protagonist in a position of supplication to his surroundings. He asks the brook to intercede with the maiden on his behalf, expects it to provide answers and interventions for him instead of taking action himself. In short, he aims to control nature, to use it as an implement—even while he perceives he is relinquishing his will to its forces. As the poet becomes more and more obsessed with an idealized version of the feminine itself, so does he attempt to subjugate the natural world to do his bidding, confusing object and subject, pond and sky, green and hope, tears and dew, mill flour and pallor. He presumes the breezes, flowers and waves to be extensions of his own weak human will. The very fact that he leaves his home only to land quickly in another mill, the epitome of human dominance over nature, (the mechanism’s transformation from grain provider to large-scale sawing production being a harbinger of industrialization), puts him square in the center of this betrayal of his natural self. There is little for me to love about the Miller right now and so far I am less sympathetic than I was at the start of this recital tour. At first I saw him as the ultimate arbiter of flow, some sort of expert surfer on the razor’s edge of creating destiny and accepting it. Now I see a different side to this man. To be continued.

[ask-de-writer]

A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE ROM : Origin of the Rom, part 7 :  MLP Fan Fiction : Part 3 of 6

A Brief History of the Rom and Their Customs

Or:

How Luna and Celestia Discovered the Rom of the Equestrian Roads

the Seventh part in the origin of the Rom

ORIGIN OF THE ROM SERIES in reading order.  (will be completed as the stories are posted in linked form)

Part One : NORE’S CHOICE, which starts HERE

Part Two : WELCOME TO EQUESTRIA! which starts HERE

Part Three : FAIR AND UN-FAIR, which starts HERE

Part Four : ON THE ROADS OF EQUESTRIA, which starts HERE

Part Five : THE FIRST ROM HEARTHWARMING,  which starts HERE

Part Six : SANDO’S LAKE, which starts HERE

Part Seven : A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE ROM, which starts HERE

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

© 2014 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Cover art by Alte Seele

17062 words

Writing begun 04/28/14

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author. //////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Gently, she returned to Carolan and said, “I begin to see what you mean. If these petty nobles in my Guard are so rude and unpleasant to me, in public yet, what must they be like to the ones that they consider inferior? Supposedly they are under military discipline and have orders to serve me, their Princess. Instead, they interrupt and try to dictate to me. It must be far worse for you.

“Now, we are far from what I wanted, which was simply to hear some of your music and to learn about your - - instrument. I can see that it is not a harp. Where may I get one?”

Blind Carolan could sense that under the Princess’ calm something truly monstrous was stirring. Still, he pointed down the Midway a few booths. “This that I play is a lyre. There is the booth of Sa-Inat the luthier. He makes all manner of instruments besides lyres. He trades to both the music of ponies and Rom. His prices are most reasonable for such fine workmanship.

“The tune that you want me to play is called the Two Green Vines.”

Carolan readied his lyre and began with a strumming stroke from high notes to the bass strings. He began to dexterously pluck the the tune. Luna’s forehooves did unconsciously begin to dance, raising little puffs of midway dust. Her face settled into a true smile as she relaxed.

A pair of mares in gorgeous sashes, harness and plumes, approached to the tinkle of bells hung from parts of their harnesses. They awaited the ending of the tune.

They curtsied to Princess Luna and asked, “Our pardon please, Princess. We wish to borrow Carolan for some dance music …”

One of the Guard officiously tried to butt in, snapping, “Go away, you Rom Trash! The Princess is …” was as far as he got.

Midnight magic, so dark as to be near black and shot through with stars that looked more like the corrupt light given by a rotting corpse, slammed him back into the formation! He was driven so hard that his hinder hooves sank into the turf enough to trip him up and make an armor clattering nine-pins strike of the whole formation!

Luna turned to the Guard as they picked themselves up. Her usually blue eyes had gone to the pale glowing light of corruption. The Guard could see the fangs in her mouth as she Canterlot Voiced, for all to hear, “FIVE PACES BACK AND SILENT! How is that too hard for you? Are you Nobles so worthless that you cannot follow the SIMPLEST OF ORDERS?”

Turning back to the shocked dancers, Luna smiled her normal sweet smile and said, “Please, forgive the interruption. Some ponies never grew up to good manners and need the occasional slap on the butt to keep them in line. A few are so utterly stupid and useless that nothing can penetrate the armor of their Place In Society.

“You wanted Carolan to play some dances for you? I do think that I would love to see and hear that!

“Here, Carolan, I almost forgot because I had to discipline these unruly idiots that masquerade as my Guard.” She dropped another two golden bits into his change box.

One of the dancers, wide eyed at the sight of gold in Carolan’s box, helped the blind lyrist to his feet as she whispered into his ear, “Five golden bits she has given you!”

He leaned on the mare for guidance. The other gathered his blanket, change box and Lyre. Luna observed, from the familiarity with which they did it, that this was a common thing for them to do.

Luna approved entirely. The able helping the less able so that those could make themselves an honest living.

She happily trotted along behind the mares and Carolan.

They came to a cleared space, staked and roped off. The mares fussed over helping Carolan to get ready. There was a drummer and a flutist already waiting.

Rom standing about tilted their heads back and emitted loud trills as the mares took the center of the dancing area. The drummer started to lead off with a sensuous beat.

One of Luna’s Guard let out a loud fart sounding raspberry. Luna spun about on her hind legs, eyes aflame, if the phosphorescence of corruption could be likened to a flame. Her horn blazed with a putrid white magic, shot through with streamers of pus like green.

Her striking forehooves crushed in Sargent Hopwell’s brestplate like tinfoil. The slime-like magic siezed his hind hooves and pulled them forward between his forehooves, flipping him flat onto his back.

The magic lifted the hapless Hopwell by his hindhooves and dropped him headfirst into a garbage bin. Her roar was not merely the Royal Canterlot voice. Her voice housed the roars of every predator ever to strike fear into a pony as she demanded, “SILENCE! I SHALL BE VIOLENT WITH THE NEXT TO INTERRUPT!”

Turning back to the Rom, she said, in the gentle tones usually associated with Princess Luna, “Pray forgive the disturbance. My Guard has made me utterly ashamed of the nobility of Equestria. Your Princess begs you to forgive the need to discipline them like the motherless brats that they are behaving as.

“Please honor me with restarting the tune and dance.”

The dancers made a quite good curtsy to Luna and hit their opening poses again. This time the only interruption was Sargent Hopwell’s hooves scrabbling for purchase as he struggled to free himself from the garbage bin.

The dancers swayed and began to spin. From some hidden place they produced long gauzy veils that swirled about as if they had a life of their own. The dancers seemed to almost float above the ground at times. At others, their stamping hooves raised small clouds of midway dust.

When the dance was done, the dancers were in a deep bow toward the Princess. All about them, the horns of the Rom tilted back as they raised their heads and trilled loudly. Watching ponies clapped their hooves.

Luna, catching that the trill was the Rom version of applause, tilted back her head and trilled too. A number of the watching ponies, seeing the Princess trill, stopped clapping and trilled too.

Luna, smiling broadly, Luna gave each of the performers, including the musicians, another golden bit. She got up and walked over to blind Carolan and gave him his bit in person.

For once, following orders, her Guard stayed in tight formation five paces behind her and silent. They were glaring menacingly in all directions.

Smiling happily she asked, “Do you have many dances such as that one?”

The dancers shrugged, “Perhaps as many as a hundred and fifty discrete dances. We also do dance medleys and some simple free form dances, just for fun.”

“That is wonderful. Would your troupe be willing to perform for me up in the palace?”

The dancers and musicians looked at each other uncomfortably. Finally it was blind Carolan who spoke. “There are laws against it, Princess. Neither Canterlot nor any other town will allow us into it, save for passage on a Royal Road.

“It is against Rom traditions too. We do not go closer to Canterlot than the shadow of its walls. It has always been so, for so long as Rom have been on the Roads of Equestria.”

The Major, hearing Carolan, began to grin meanly.

“I regret to say this, Princess, but given that the laws forbid it already, we have to say that we do not wish to break the laws.”

Luna was just starting to say, “I see …” When the Major and the Guard charged past her screaming, “TREASON! Take the Traitors! They have all defied the Princess!”

She heard the splintering crash of Carolan’s lyre being destroyed. There were the screams of injured and horrified horses. She cold hear the thud of hard bucking blows and the breaking of bones. She smelled blood …

She yelled at the Guard in the loudest Royal Canterlot Voice, “Halt! Formation, NOW!”

She saw the grinning Major look up from pummeling the blind Carolan. “Can’t, Princess! Gotta take care of this nest of traitors first!”

The next sound that the Guard heard was a roar, so loud that it dislodged stones from the cliff of Canterlot’s mountain. It left searing frost behind it as the voice of the Embodiment of All Nightmares ordered, “FORMATION, NOW!”

The Major looked up from his assault on the helpless. It was not Luna there. It was not the Alicorn Nighmare Moon that he expected. No.

Reared onto her hind legs was the True Embodiment of All Nightmares. Her eyes flamed with a color that could only be called the phosphorescence of decay. Her forehooves were glowing flame. She was so black that there was no way to distinguish details that were not outlined, like the huge bat-like wings, the fangs, the magic pale, rotting corpse like and shot through with a greenish slime, already gathered about a horn longer than the Major was tall.

Simply to look at her was to know the terror of the worst nightmare that any seeing her had ever experienced.

Most of the Guard were sprinting to make formation. Sargent Hopwell was holding two mares by force and trying to clear his armor. Without looking up, he snapped back at the voice, “Got couple of Whorses! Be there as soon as I gets a little fun!”

For those watching, it was a scene out of nightmare. A living scene in a living nightmare. Hopwell struggled with the mares and strove to get his armor out of the way of his “fun.” The True Embodiment of All Nightmares took a single stride in his direction. As in a nightmare, the stride covered all the ground between them. A hoof of flame rose and slammed down.

There was the sickening crashing crunch of failing metal. The stench of burning flesh. The stench of splattered guts. Sargent Hopwell’s back plate was level with the ground. It was glowing red hot in the shape of a gigantic hoof print. His gore and blood burst out between the plates of the shattered armor.

The True Nightmare grabbed a hind hoof sticking up at an impossible angle. She ripped the corpse from the ground and hurled it at the formation. His mangled body hit, bounced once, and came to rest exactly at his position in the rank.

The Major, whose real battle experience was nil, was frozen to the spot, straddling the blind Carolan. He was staring directly at the Monster of all nightmares and he was terrified to paralysis. He saw the monster turn his way and begin a stride.

He ran, gibbering in horror, to the formation. He got there only fractions of a second ahead of the Nightmare beast. He stood in his exact spot, rooted there, shivering. He could not take his eyes from the still glowing, shattered armor that held Hopwell’s body.

Luna’s normal and gentle voice coming from the monster that was no longer pony like at all, though it still had a horn and bat wings, caused the surviving Guard to quake where they stood. She said softly, “Explain yourselves. You cried treason. What treason was there?”

Fearfully biting a lip because he feared a trap in the simple question, the Major swallowed hard and replied, “They refused your order for a command performance at the palace, Your Highness.”

“They did? I was not aware of it. I made no such order.”

“You asked them if they wanted to perform. Your request is an order. They defied you. We gave them the punishment due to traitors.”

Flatly, Luna’s gentle voice declared, “I asked a preference which they answered honestly. You have said that my request is an order. Defiance of my request is treason subject to violent punishment before an arrest or a trial. These things you have just said.

“Since leaving the palace you have been constantly ORDERED to remain five paces behind me and NOT INTERFERE in my conversations with my subjects. You have defied me. You are traitors. You shall receive the harm that you have given!”

The ghastly form of the True Embodiment of All Nightmares reared before him. A vast flaming hoof swung. The Major flew across the Midway. He hit a tree to the crunch of smashing metal. Ribs breaking and leg bones shattering were clearly heard. The Major fell to the tree’s roots. The glowing hot hoof print on his breastplate started some of the grass there to burning but it was green and went out quickly.

The True Embodiment of All Nightmares surveyed the scene of carnage. There were the shattered instruments of the musicians. Carolan’s beautiful lyre in a shatter of fragments and tangled strings. The Lovely dancers, one with a broken foreleg, the other with two. An uninjured curved horn mare cradling Carolan’s head and weeping.

Luna’s eyes looked out of the Nightmare. Speaking with complete concern, she asked, “What is it? How bad are his injuries?”

As the mare looked up, she realized that, of all that monster, her eyes were safe to see. She wept, “He is dying. I can hear his lungs bubbling.”

Still looking the mare directly in the eyes, Luna replied, “I used to be a very good battlefield surgeon. Do not be afraid of my magic. The color is only a seeming.” Her magic, looking like the pus of a rotting corpse, settled into Carolan. Soon she withdrew it.

“If I am to save him, I will need help. It is far easier to become a Nightmare than it is to awaken from it. I will call for help now.”

Up in the palace, Celestia was in a huddle with both Guards and Regular Equestrian Army. The wide spaces of the throne room smelled of smoke. She was saying, “General, your troops are doing an admirable job. You have the list. Carry on with sealing the city and sending pegatroopers to the estates of any who you have any doubt might escape.

“We all heard my sister’s order to Formation. She cannot use that voice unless the Nightmare has emerged. She promised me, at the end of the last Nightmare War that she would never allow it again unless at the greatest need. I fear something terrible has happen …”

The roar shook the mountain. Hoarfrost formed on all the walls and the hearers were rooted with a plain to see terror.

“Celestia! Come quickly! I need you!” It was a voice freighted with the inescapable grief of a Nightmare with no awakening. It found some purchase out on the plains and it echoed back to the mountain’s side, “Celestia! Come quickly! I need you!” The grief of it reverberating back and forth from Mountain to plains and back.

Of the hearers, Celestia alone raised her head. Magic of the sun and day boosted a return call that was near equally loud. “I am coming, my Sister! I am on my way!”

General Hurricane V shivered but came straight to the point. “That was not the Nightmare Moon, was it, Princess? It was a far worse thing, I would guess.”

“You are correct, General. The Alicorn, Nightmare Moon, could never have stood against us through the ten years of the Nightmare Wars. She was a fiction to help allay the fears of the populace. This is the Embodiment of All Nightmares. She is my sister and I must go! I trust you to finish the work that we have begun.”

She spun about and sprinted for a balcony of the Throne Room, her Guards behind her. She turned to them and said, “These are your orders. Do no thing to interfere with the Nightmare or what it is doing. NO THING AT ALL. You simply find me a safe landing spot as close to the Nightmare as possible and secure it for me.

“Launch!”

The Guards leaped and began the fast stooping dive to the Canterlot Fairground, far below. Celestia was close behind them. A few hundred feet up, the big Alicorn banked off into a circle while her Guard found the safe spot and landed, forcing the few civilians there out of the way, to safety.

Celestia dropped down hard, like a striking hawk to her landing. Bunching, she jumped past her Guard, landed and jumped again. She was beside the Monster that her sister presently was.

All that she said was, “How can I help you, Luna?”

Weeping tears of blood and fire, a flaming hoof pointed to Carolan. “I need to awaken from the Nightmare and awakening will be too slow to save him.”

Not questioning her sister’s reasons, Celestia gathered her magic of many hues and enwrapped her sister in it. As her magic entered, the Embodiment of All Nightmares began to shrink and turn to a familiar dark midnight blue. In seconds, it was Princess Luna who stood there.

Her magic quickly gathered her new kitchen knife set as she sprinted for the fallen Lyrist. She told the mare, “Please keep holding his head. Keep his mouth open and tongue out so that it cannot block his breathing. I will make him sleep deeply so that he will not move. I am going to have to physically cut into his chest to fix this, but I can do it if we are in time!”

Celestia came and knelt to Carolan’s other side as Luna’s razor sharp knives began their cuts. Many hued magic reached into the cuts, alongside her sister’s midnight magic. Bleeding was stanched. The cuts opened wide to make Luna’s work easier.

Seeing the astonishment on the mare’s face, Celestia explained gently, “Luna is far the better surgeon of us two. I doubt that there is a better surgeon in all of Equestria. I do well as an operating nurse for her.” She turned back to the delicate but swift work at hoof.

Luna spoke for the first time since the cutting began. In a neutral voice, she said, “I am about to enter his chest. When I do, he will stop breathing. Do not be alarmed.

“Celestia, be very careful as you spread the wound. He has many broken ribs. Some are already damaging his lung. I need them lifted out carefully so that I can seal the injuries. Then, I have to get the blood out of his chest.

“It would help if I had some absorbent cloths to catch it.”

She continued to cut swiftly and with precision. In moments, a gaping hole opened in Carolan’s chest. Some fragments of bone lifted out with care to cause no further damage.

Luna’s normal midnight Magic reached in and damaged bits of lung came out of the wound. A towel caught them. Luna was concentrating ferociously. Sweat began to run on her forehead. A towel caught that too.

Without looking up, she said, “Cloths at the ready. There is a lot of blood in here.”

Her magic was lifting out globs of partly jelled blood. As fast as it came out, it was caught and taken away.

Luna’s magic began to pull severed membranes together all but a small part. Muscles were next. As many hued magic pulled things close, midnight magic brought them to a perfect fit and they sealed together as if never cut.

Luna leaned forward and sucked air out of the hole that she had left. As she sealed it, Carolan’s damaged chest began to heave. The mare holding his head was openly crying.

TO BE CONTINUED

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#A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE ROM #Origin of the Rom part 7 #MLP Fan Fiction #Written by De Writer #Part 3 of 6

[ragtagdungeoncrawlers]

CHAPTER TWO

She awoke in a bundle of frayed nerves and headaches, blearily wincing out under her shelf of hair. The tip of her pointed, long ears pierced through her hair and stuck out, trapped on the outside of her hood like a small shrub in a high wind. One eye, the one that could open and focus right now, surveyed the blurred room while her stomach called out for water and probably more ale, if she were being honest with herself. When they locked onto Aether, who sat in a chair, reading a small book, she sat up quickly, ignoring the nausea, and pointed at him with an accusatory finger.

“Who are you?” She demanded, all disheveled feelings retreating, replaced by innate defensiveness and self-preservation. “What are you doing? Who are you?”

“Selene, I presume?” he said, chuckling slightly.

“That’s Aether,” Calvin said helpfully, grinning at her. “He and I are partners… for the time being.”

“You’re a kid.” Selene had said that simply. It was pretty obvious he was young.

“I am young, but certainly old enough to go on an adventure! In fact, my brother—“ he began.

“—I don’t care about your brother,” she snapped.

“I’m Aether,” he said, bowing slightly. As he was still seated, it was a strange move.

“Half-Elf.” Again, Selene had that “simply put” thing down pat.

Aether nodded and smiled. “Well met.”

The door opened with a brief knock, swinging wide to reveal the barrel chested frame of the imposing bartender, green skin glinting gold in the candlelight. He walked in casually, as though he owned the place, and squatted down next to Selene, beaming at her.

“Your head looks okay, you had another tumble last night,” he offered, propping her up. She attempted to remove her elbows from his hands and feigned anger, but between her familiarity with the man, his overwhelming aura of kindness, and her wicked hangover, she was standing in no time. Bill disappeared behind the door and entered again immediately with a large tankard of water.

“Drink that,” he said.

“Ale?” She answered, a ray of hope shining in her otherwise bloodshot eyes.

“Water, with the amount you drink, you should be a seven hundred year old raisin,” he chuckled.

Calvin widened his eyes at this and his mouth dropped open, but Selene quickly mentioned she was nowhere near that old. Bill was simply jesting. The bartender slapped her shoulder and wished her well, leaving on the pretense of giving the new teammates time to get to know each other.

As the door clicked, so did Bill’s parting words.

“Teammates?” Selene crowed gutturally. “I work best alone. Surely Bill is confused, that man has broken up one too many barfights.”

“And you’ve probably instigated the majority of them,” Aether added helpfully. Still smiling his stupid big grin. “Alas, we’re mates for now. It’s a great job. We look out for you, you look out for us. We’re practically being paid to be friends.”

“Aether!” Calvin yelled, taking a step forward and gesturing wildly.

“It’s a joke,” the taller one chirped, standing up slowly. “I’m a performer and he is known to do a bit of magic, but we need someone with your particulars. Someone with finesse and discretion, someone who could help us navigate the areas around town.”

“Bill’s idea,” Calvin said, “But we would certainly accept your help gladly. Please consider this arrangement.”

“As long as we’re back at sundown. And you’re buying my drinks.”

Aether blanched at her remark, “Sadly, there isn’t enough coin in the world.”

 Hours later the group found themselves in front of a towering man in uniform, who identified himself as Dorgor the Knight Commander. Next to him with a shock of red hair and a large beard was a dwarf in plated armor. They were arguing amongst themselves quietly, hissed words and vibrant gestures thrown about like alfalfa sprouts at stables.

“They couldn’t manage. The three of them would die in seconds,” the dwarf spat out, unconcerned with volume.

The Knight Commander straightened his spine and looked at the three.

“Our men spotted a band of cultists near by. We’re busy running the guards and there seem to be no groups free to investigate. I’m hesitant to send you three, but I might have no choice,” Knight Commander Dorgor responded. The dwarf next to him nodded furiously.

“None meant for offense,” the dwarf explained. “You seem capable. I simply don’t think you’d survive.”

Aether chuckled, “Well put. We’ll be on our way, sorry to disappoint.”

Calvin stamped his foot impetuously. “No!”

Selene groaned loudly.

“We have to help,” Calvin exclaimed with a sweeping motion. “This town has been very hospitable. We can’t let there be a lingering squad of cultists around ready to lay siege at any moment. They’ll raid the village and it’ll be because we didn’t stop them. It’s not right!”

“It wouldn’t be our fault,” Aether countered, looking to Selene. “Technically, the guards are responsible for guarding. If they fail to do so, that’s kind of on them, really.”

Dorgor held out three satchels of coin. “Here. Payment. Now you are conscribed into service. Your guards now.”

“Oh,” Aether sighed, “This is going to be a bother, isn’t it.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” came Selene’s defeated response.

The Knight Commander issued them on their way, informing them of the two waiting for them. A paladin and her charge would be at the gates at sundown, ready to meet anyone else ready for the job. The rest of the day was theirs to enjoy, as the night would surely bring its own strains of despair.

Aether had lost track of his two teammates in spectacular fashion, wondering where to they could have run. If his brief time with Selene was any help, she would be three mugs in at Bill’s, while Calvin was probably off kissing a flower or something. They would meet up under cover of night and explore the camp’s suspected location, and Aether was not looking forward to it.

When the sun had cradled the horizon and the sounds of night began slowly seeping in, Andromeda, Artemis, and Selene had gathered by the gate, all looking a bit apprehensive.

“How much did he pay you?” Selene asked, her even tone betrayed by eager eyes. “Like, a hundred gold pieces?”

Andromeda cocked her head and blinked a few times. “I didn’t count.”

“Greetings!” Calvin said with a wave and he turned a corner and reached the three. Aether was slowly trailing behind, a lyre in his hands. He plucked away a sad dirge, stepping in time to the music like a funeral march.

“Guess we should get this over with, my dears.”

Artemis piped up with a displeased look, “You’re a musician, shouldn’t you be inspiring?”

“Sorry,” he answered, “my bardic inspiration was all used up chatting up some locals. Would a limerick do?”

It would not, as it turned out.

They made it through the forest quickly, following Selene’s lead. Still a bit drunk from her day-drinking, the elven urchin was still swift and precise. Behind her marched the Triton, swords drawn and at the ready. Next to her was the platinum knight so radiant Calvin thought he saw her almost glowing. Behind them came the bard, careful to step over crunchy looking leaves, even though it took all his willpower not to step directly on them. They just looked so crunchy, it would be a satisfying sound, no doubt.

“Wait!” Selene hissed, holding up a hand. “Ahead.”

They crept to the edge of the forest, eyes darting around for any signs of movement. Through a gap in the woods they could, if climbing on top of each other, get a straight view ahead to a small clearing beyond the thickest of the trees. Selene and Calvin huddled close, clocking the positions of a small group of reptilian creatures, relaxing around a small fire, letting the silver light of the moon break through the trees bask their copper and sienna skins.

“Kobolds,” Selene whispered, pulling out a bow and notching a smooth arrow on its taut string. “And some mercenary looking folk. Most likely their commanders.”

“Kobolds are intelligent,” Aether whispered, “They could be the commanders, don’t be so speciest. They’re like gnome versions of Dragonborn types. You wouldn’t say gnomes aren’t—“

“Now is absolutely not the type, Half-Elf,” Andromeda countered, scales glinting blue and green in the forest’s dim moonlight. “We have duties.”

“Don’t say it!” Calvin snapped in a loud whisper.

“Duties. Duty. Doody.” Aether chuckled.

As he laughed, Selene stood up, still staring ahead. “Well, so much for a sneak attack. They’re running to grab their weapons.”

Artemis grabbed her shield and fixed her grip on a dazzling sword, charging forward without hesitation. Andromeda ran past, determination spreading across her face in a stoic gaze and grim frown. Picking up a few stones, Calvin stumbled forward, his smaller frame deftly passing over the natural terrain like he was one with nature.

Phitt.

The arrow from Selene’s bow carved through the air with a swift ringing sound, piercing through one of the mercenary’s sides as he bent to grab his sword. A guttural howl erupted from his chest as he spun around like a spinning coin, faceplanting in the ground. From her distant grounds of vantage, Selene notched another arrow and steadily moved forward at a steady, methodical pace, all traces of intoxication vanished.

“Let’s finish this quickly, I have a date tomorrow morning!” Aether cried out, darting to the side of the mercenary group. He released an arrow, which went wide, sticking in the ground like a fork in steak. “Do better than me, please.”

His words carried across the wind, silvery and ethereal tendrils wrapping around Andromeda’s wrists as an arcane energy brewed around them. The remaining mercenaries had grabbed their weapons and swung toward the blue-skinned fighter, who dodged all but one of the blows. Reeling a bit from the slice of a blade, she growled and lunged forward, swinging both of her blades. The silver energy cackled as she swung, seemingly letting her blades find better purchase between the slips of their armor.

The blades cleanly slipped through the armor and sunk into the man’s shoulder several inches, the blades meeting at the center of his chest. He stood for a second more before he fell apart from the inside out and tumbled to the ground in two pieces.

Without hesitation, Andromeda turned and leaped at the other man, bringing her blade front and center like a dagger, aiming to pierce the man straight through his stomach. Artemis blocked his wide swing with a shield, halting his arc and leaving his center open to the Triton’s blade. He twisted away but a stone ricochetted off his forehead while green vines erupted from the ground and held his other arm open. Calvin’s arm was connected to the ground, his druidic power fueling the accelerated growth of nature. Tied up and wide open thanks to the two, the Triton’s blade sank cleanly into the bandit mercenary’s center.

Meanwhile, Aether was holding his hands up, now on the other side of the battle, cooing at the Kobolds and distracting them from the fight.

“We’re friends. These people you were following? They’re no match for us. We’re strong, come with us,” Aether said. Calvin paused and turned to his compatriot, confused. Common wasn’t what he was hearing, instead it was a language of guttural hisses, grunts, and gnashing. He recognized it as the language of Dragons. How Aether knew Draconic was beyond him, but Aether did happen to express knowing five languages already. Just another curiosity about the equally arresting and infuriating man.

The Kobolds regarded him carefully, holding their weapons at the ready. A brief moment passed as Artemis, Selene, and Andromeda finished their battle and turned attention to the small sentient lizards.

The Kobolds immediately turned tail and began running through the trees, terror on their face. Only one stayed put, looking at Aether with a curious fascination.

“You… speak me?” The Kobolds said, confused and delighted, “You are dragon? Mom?”

Aether’s use of Draconic was very lacking, but he found the word ringing true in his ears, memories of his Dragonborn tutor coming to him in this moment.

“I’m Mom,” he said, holding his hand out to the Kobold. “I’m Dragon Mom.”

The Kobold sat directly on the ground and began wagging his tail, smiling at Aether, who turned to his group with a wide swing of his arm, saying in their universal language, “This is my daughter, and I love her very much.”