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pocket-luv101 · 1 year

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Desert Roses // Chapter 3

Fandom: Genshin Impact Ship: CynoNari

Summary: Cyno and Tighnari have an arranged marriage to end the conflict between the desert and rainforest. Later, Tighnari discovers a box that could hold the truth behind the disappearance of the Scarlet King and the Goddess of Flowers.

Ch.1 // Ch.2 // (Ch.3) // Ch.4 // Ch.5 // Ch.6 //

“I didn’t know that you studied the gods. The representatives from the desert only told us that you were the General Mahamatra.” Tighnari said as they explored the ruins. However, he would better describe their adventure as wandering aimlessly. They didn’t know where the box sent them and they could barely see in front of them. The most they were able to do was follow the ancient texts carved into the walls.

“They thought my military expertise would be more valuable when persuading the rainforest to accept an engagement to General Mahamatra rather than a prince. The title holds more sway than a scholar would.” Cyno didn’t mention that the desert originally planned to send Collei to the rainforest under the guise of a princess. As much as he wanted to be honest in their arranged marriage, he worried it would cause Tighnari to be distrustful of him. The peace between their kingdom was tied to their marriage.

“Ironically, the desert was the one disappointed to be sent a scholar instead of a prince in the end.” Tighnari joked dryly. He didn’t expect he would be able to joke about his arranged marriage with said husband but he was pleasantly surprised by Cyno. “What can you tell me about these?”

Cyno was accustomed to people dismissing him as merely a ruthless fighter due to his job. He never corrected their assumption since it allowed him to interrogate them easier. On the other hand, he felt fortunate that Tighnari was more open to him. “The hieroglyphs don’t mention a funeral so we aren’t a tomb. It’s more likely that we’re in a temple.”

As they walked, Tighnari watched Cyno from the corner of his eyes. The rainforest’s scholars had given him a long description of the General Mahamatra but none of their words matched the man beside him. A heartless soldier wouldn’t tell bad puns or adopt children. There were a lot of things they needed to learn about each other.

“There are prayers written to the Goddess of Oases, Reyah, requesting her protection. She died six hundred years ago and she didn’t have many followers at the time. Her children were more revered than her. At least, we know where we are. She ruled over a desert region close to the wall before her death.” Cyno wondered if there could be more to the temple though. He found that there was something strangely familiar about the tomb.

“I think I heard of that goddess. Our Goddess of Flowers was close with Reyah before her death.” Tighnari looked down at the golden box. The temple’s closeness to the wall would explain why the script was written in an ancient language from the rainforest. He couldn’t explain how it transported them miles away though. The box didn’t hold an elemental aura. “If we are near the Wall of Samiel, it’ll be difficult for us to return to the palace.”

A low rumble behind them caused the walls to shake. Cyno didn’t seem to notice the noise but Tighnari had sensitive ears. As unlikely as it was for it to be a person, he thought they should check what made the sound. The hall was too dark for him to see what could’ve caused the sound. Tighnari turned around to walk back and investigate.

“Do you hear that, Cyno?’ His ears twitched when the sound became the thunderous roar of water. Even though he heard the water flood into the hall, he barely had time to react. Water pooled around their ankles and rose quickly.

“This way!” Cyno took Tighnari’s wrist and pulled him down the hall. The floor was slightly slanted so he led Tighnari upwards. He didn’t know whether the path would lead them outside but it would keep the water from reaching them as quickly. He held onto Tighnari tightly so they wouldn’t lose each other in the darkness. In the back of his mind, he questioned what triggered the flood. They had been careful to avoid traps.

They eventually found a staircase and Cyno peered into the pitch-black passageway. They didn’t have time to find a safer path and the stairs would eventually lead them to the surface. The water already reached their knees and their soaked clothes would make it more difficult to move. Cyno placed his hand on the small of Tighnari’s back and lightly ushered him into the staircase first. The person who triggered the trap could follow them and he would be in a better position to fight them if he was in the front.

“Wait,” Tighnari said. He collected the luminesce roses from the wall, ignoring how they stung his hand. The flowers didn’t provide a lot of light but their glow was better than complete darkness. After he picked enough, he nodded to Cyno and ran up the stairs. The daunting flight made him wish that he was born with night vision instead of hearing.

The water continued to chase them up the stairs and Tighnari dashed up two steps at a time to reach the top quicker. In his rush, he almost tripped a few times but Cyno’s hand on his back kept him from falling. He would occasionally feel the water nip at his heel and it made him shudder worse than ice.

They reached the top of the staircase but Tighnari’s heart sank to the ground. The steps only led to a small pedestal that overlooked a pit. Across from their ledge was another staircase but it was impossible for them to reach by jumping. However, they couldn’t go back with the water flooding the hall. The powerful waves climbing the stairs would push them off the platform once it reached them. His mind raced trying to think of what they should do.

“Tighnari, I need you to trust me.” He held out his hand to Tighnari. The dim light of the desert roses allowed him to see the conviction in his red eyes. He prayed that he had a good plan as he laid his fingers on his palm. Cyno squeezed his hand and tugged him forward so they were inches apart. He wrapped his arm around the waist and held him closer still.

Then, he jumped off the ledge. Tighnari was too shocked to scream and he instinctively clung to Cyno. The wind slapped him as they fell and he pressed his face into his broad shoulder. He wrapped his legs around his waist so he wouldn’t. Cyno continued to hold him tightly but he lifted one arm. He summoned his spear and stabbed it into the wall.

Their descent slowed enough for Cyno to place his foot on the ridges of the stone and held onto the wall. The water spilled over the platform and rained down over them like a waterfall. They were close enough to the wall that the rushing water couldn’t reach them. Cyno’s expression appeared calm as they waited for the water to drain into the cavern beneath them but Tighnari could hear how fast his heart was racing.

The world became still again and Tighnari let out the breath he was holding. He wanted to lean back against the wall but then he realized the position he was in. Their bodies were pressed close together with his legs wrapped around Cyno. Tighnari was grateful that the temple was dark so he couldn’t see his blush.

“Are you okay, Tighnari?” Cyno looked down at him but Tighnari hid his face by flattening his tall ears over his face. He assumed that the sound of the waterfall hurt his ears. The flowers between them glowed and washed his face in a yellow and red hue, the colours of a desert sunset.

“I’m fine. I was just thinking of how I can hold these flowers and climb at the same time.” Tighnari brushed aside his worry. He moved the flower and the petals illuminated small cuts on Cyno’s chest. “You’re hurt. The roses cut you when we fell. The cuts aren’t deep but the flower’s poison might have entered your body. You shouldn’t move or else it’ll travel through your blood faster. I can climb to the staircase and create a rope to pull you up.”

“I don’t feel weak and I can still climb.” He said and started to climb. Tighnari stopped him by placing his hand on his spear. From his laboured breathing, he could tell that the poison was affecting him more than he would admit. His vision was becoming blurry and he felt his strength slowly wane.

“That will quickly change once the poison settles in your system and paralyze you. Do you want to risk falling down the cavern by being stubborn? Stay still and I’ll tie a rope around you.” His words were logical so Cyno couldn’t argue with him. It was rare that someone argued with him as Tighnari did. Once Tighnari saw him silently relent, he spoke in a softer voice. “You asked me to trust you earlier. I want you to do the same with me now.”

Tighnari placed the desert roses in his hood so his hands were free. Then, he summoned a vine with his dendro vision. He reached around him to tie the rope around his waist. His fingers brushed over his smooth muscles and then the cold glass of his electro vision.

A blinding light grew beneath them and Tighnari flinched away from how bright it was. He couldn't see what the source of the light was but there was a faint heat in his pocket where the golden box was. Tighnari was reminded of when they were first sent to the temple. Neither of them had the opportunity to react like before.

“Cyno, open your eyes.” Tighnari’s worried voice woke Cyno. His body felt stiff and he couldn’t remember much from their time in the temple. Cyno debated whether it was a dream. He opened his eyes to see Tighnari leaning over him. Relief passed over his face and he gently brushed his silver hair from his eyes. “You scared me. I treated the poison but you wouldn’t wake up. Do you feel dizzy?”

Cyno fought against his aching body to shake his head. He looked beyond Tighnari to the courtyard of the palace. He laid on the cold floor but Tighnari’s tail beneath his head provided him with warmth. “What happened after that light appeared?”

“I’m as dumbfounded as you.” Tighnari groaned. “We were teleported here. If only we were sent back to our room where I keep my herbs. I had to improvise a remedy with the plants in the garden. There was barely enough to extract the poison. I’m exhausted after running so much. At least we’re both safe now. You must tell me if you feel something’s wrong.”

“Tighnari, do you know why the moon is so bright? It’s going through a phase.”

“If you have the energy to make bad jokes, that’s a good sign.” Tighnari held out his hand to Cyno so he could help him stand. He didn’t take his hand and stared at the small marks on his fingers created by the roses. He could read his thoughts and hid his hand behind his back. “They don’t hurt. I’ll tend to them once we’re back in our room.”

“You yelled at me for saying the exact same thing.” Cyno pointed out. Tighnari told him that had a small tolerance for poison due to his Valuka Shuna heritage. He expected a long rebuttal where he reminded him of that fact. Instead, Tighnari let out a warm laugh. It was the first time he heard him truly laugh since they were married.

“I’m sorry, but I was just thinking of how outlandish this entire situation is.” Tighnari covered his mouth to stifle his laughter but Cyno could still see its gleam in his turquoise eyes. “ That’s a silly thing to argue over. Who should be healed first? I’m the doctor so the answer should be obvious.”

“Your sense of humour is strange, Tighnari.” His laughter was from more than that though. He felt happy and relieved when Cyno showed concern for him.

Their conversation was interrupted when he heard someone’s footsteps. A blond man walked around the corner. He didn’t wear a soldier’s uniform and Tighnari reasoned that he was a scholar or noble. Tighnari stood and fixed his dishevelled clothes. He already made a bad impression on the nobles at the party and he could only imagine what someone would think seeing him on the ground with Cyno.

“Cyno, have some decency and consummate your marriage in your room!” He yelled. Tighnari didn’t recognize the man but it seemed he knew Cyno. “Is this how you plan to treat your partner?”

“Of course not. Are you out for a midnight walk or did Alhaitham lock you out of the house again? I’ll order him to let you back inside.” Cyno said to shift Kaveh’s attention away from Tighnari. He could see that Tighnari was uncomfortable. They hadn’t kissed yet, let alone had sex.

“This is all a misunderstanding. Cyno was hurt and I was treating his wounds. I had him lie down so I could properly treat him.” Tighnari rushed to explain. He thought of how much he should tell the man about the temple. If someone told him that a strange box teleported him miles away, he wouldn’t believe them. “We’re going back to our room now. Goodnig— Do you two hear water?”

Cyno closed his eyes and he strained to hear where the sound came from. The oasis was still and quiet. When he shook his head, Tighnari’s brows came together in concentration. Kaveh hummed thoughtfully and then nodded at the palace. “The sound must be from the temple buried beneath this palace. There’s a legend that the temple was flooded with water and then covered by sand, creating this oasis.”

Kaveh’s explanation only gave Cyno’s more questions about the temple they explored. They assumed that the chest sent them miles away but it could be closer. Since Kaveh was a talented and knowledgeable architect, he believed him. “Is there a way for someone to enter the temple now that it’s buried?”

“It should be impossible. Though, I don’t know why someone would want to try. It’s dangerous.”

“You’re right.” Tighnari said but he pictured the desert roses he found glowing in the darkness. He loved flowers and his home in the rainforest allowed him to research them freely. The desert was far different. As beautiful as the desert was, Tighnari found himself longing for his home again. He missed his family and the rainforest.

He reminded himself that he couldn’t be selfish or reckless by trying to find them again. “Let’s go back to our room, Cyno. After everything that happened, I’m tired.”

“Cyno, may I speak with you?” Collei stopped Cyno in the hall. She ran towards him with a book and paper bag in her arms. He expected her to be asleep already because she needed a lot of rest due to her Eleazar. He didn’t comment on that as he walked to her. Each time someone mentioned her illness, she would force herself to smile and the sight broke his heart. He hoped that Tighnari’s medicine would help her. From their short time together, it was easy to see how knowledgeable he was.

When she reached him, she held out her notebook to him. He stood next to the torch so he could read the words. The writing was far too neat to be from Collei and he reasoned that Tighnari had written a message in her notebook. Collei said: “This morning, Tighnari wrote down the instructions for my medicine but it’s still a little complicated. Can you read it for me?”

Between her young age and how she started her education, she didn’t know how to read well. Cyno was certain that she would grow into a bright scholar. He planned to teach her but he rarely had the opportunity to do so. He also had to admit that he wasn’t suited to being a teacher like Tighnari. He watched a few of their lessons and saw how patient he was when helping her.

After he read the instructions for her, he asked: “Is Tighnari already asleep? He would’ve prepared the medicine for you.”

“I went to your room but he wasn’t there. I tried to look for him but I can’t find him at all. Then, I saw you and thought I should ask you instead. Tighnari was very firm when he said I needs to take my medicine on time.” Collei told him. When he handed the notebook back to her, she didn’t return to her room immediately. She rocked on her feet nervously. “Will Tighnari be staying long?”

“Tighnari is my husband now.” He knew there were a thousand more questions hidden beneath her words. Life had shown her how selfish and she shouldn’t rely on anything but her own strength. Yet, she still found herself searching for human connection. As the General Mahamatra, Cyno understood those feelings all too well. “Did you hear about the notebook who married the pencil? He found Mr. Write.”

“Is Tighnari the notebook or the pencil?” She asked, confused with the joke.

“He won’t leave or break his promise to teach you. Now, go to bed or else Tighnari will yell at both of us for staying up late. Goodnight, Collei.” He reassured her and relief passed over her face. Cyno waited until she was safe inside her room before he left to find Tighnari. She told him that he wasn’t in their room and he thought of where he could be. Tighnari only moved to the palace recently so Cyno didn’t know where he would go.

After a moment of thought, he walked to the courtyard built around the oasis. Tighnari told him that he would be conducting research after he finished his lesson. He might’ve lost track of the time. Cyno wondered if there was another reason he spent so long in the lush garden. He could only imagine how homesick Tighnari was.

The night breeze was cool against his skin and a silence had settled around them. Most would describe the desert as lifeless but he found the stillness of its night as peaceful. Tighnari could. Cyno stood at the entrance but he couldn’t see far in front of him. The lanterns weren’t lit so he might’ve already completed his research and left. Cyno called Tighnari’s name but no one answered him. There weren’t many other places Tighnari would go so Cyno walked deeper inside to search for him.

Near the back of the courtyard, Tighnari had created a makeshift lab for himself. He had arranged books and scrolls on a bench. Tighnari now slept with his head resting on an array of papers. Cyno placed his hand on his shoulder to wake Tighnari but then he noticed the words on the page. Dear Mama, I’m doing well in the desert so please don’t worry about me. I miss you.

He hadn’t meant to read his letter to his mother. The letter was unfinished but Cyno hoped that Tighnari’s words were honest. Making a home in the desert would be difficult for anyone. Cyno would compare Tighnari to the desert shrubs next to them. Despite the harsh condition of the desert, life could flourish with enough time and tenacity. He respected him.

Cyno decided to let Tighnari sleep and carry him back to their room. Careful not to wake him, he slipped the papers from under his head. He doubted Tighnari would want someone reading his letters and research papers so he placed them in Tighnari’s satchel. Then, he slipped one arm beneath Tighnari’s leg and wrapped the other around him. As he lifted him out of his chair, Cyno noted how slender he was.

Tighnari rested his head on his shoulder but he continued to sleep peacefully in his arms. His face was relaxed and softer compared to when he was awake. He didn’t expect to see this side of him. Cyno thought of what he learned about him in the temple and he found that he wanted to know about him.

#genshin impact #cynonari #cyno and tighnari #genshin impact cyno #genshin impact tighnari #fanfiction

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branchtrance · 1 year

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SB(Dark Prince) or SH(Redacted Asmr)

Ok, so

Sweet Boy from angels and bread asmr gets cinders song by the mechanisms

Which is pretty funny cause we get "princess of a destroyed world/civilization falls for extremely violent warrior from the other side but something happens and she has to flee"

So I'm taking it as it applies to SB and Samiels relationship as a whole rather than just SB as a person,

We very clearly get references to The War In Heaven, and the end of the Divine Ascendents,

but also SB's personal loss of his family with "my royal house a-bleeding", along with Cinders running from her wedding in search of Rose, kind of mirroring how Yllian (Illyan?) Would wander the world for centuries protecting SB until there was somewhere safe to leave him, at which point SB immediately manages to find the very same guy that he'd had a crush on/Yllian had thought he should talk to

(sidenote I've literally only just noticed how fucking hilarious that it is that Yllian went to so much trouble only for SB to literally fall right into Samiels lap the second they parted ways)

Coming back to the wider story we have how cinders' world was betrayed by her stepmother and stepsisters, similar to how it was Fuck-Whats-His-Name who betrayed his brothers and started the war in heaven

There's also "the godmother in white who came and led me to your crimson" ITS LITERALLY YLLIAN AND SAM IM GOING TO CRY

also for background context cinders' Love, Rose, is being kept in a coma/suspended animation by King Cole so think about that parallel for a second

#angels and bread divines #angels and bread servant boy #angels and bread dark prince saga #angels and bread asmr #bread pit #twig talks

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3dg3writes · 2 years

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Zazriel headcanons

- Would rather be alone than around people

- Hated the after party of his and his brothers ascension because of the people but stayed put anyways

- Liked hanging out with Illyan because he was quiet

- Listened to Michael swooning over Ilyan way too much

- helped him by finding romance books which were terribly inaccurate to real life circumstances

- If Zazriel ever gets redeemed/purified, which i really hope happens, you and Zazriel will just be sharing your experiences of lovestruck idiots

- A tea drinker, says coffee is overrated but he just can't stand bitter drinks ( he's never had iced coffee )

- puts way too much sugar in his tea

- Wrote poetry and has books he's never been able to finish writing

- tried writing music once but gave up

- Showed Samael how to press flowers and make potpourri and he's now obsessed

- Like Michael, doesn't know any slang, he doesn't talk to anyone

- So when custodian said spill the tea, he heavily guarded his tea

- His favourite genre of books is historical fiction

Feel free to add on or write one of these scenarios

#angels&bread asmr #angels & bread asmr #dark prince samiel #dark prince saga

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faithless0ne · 2 years

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I see little posts about the Dark Prince saga from Bread&Angels, so I thought I’d contribute a little. <3

Okay so, Samiel.

Our dear Dark Prince.

Since him and Michael now have forgiven one another, I’d think to see much more shenanigans between the two of them, don’t you? Like, think about it.

Michael teasing Samiel again, either the flower crown, when he walks in on us and him cuddling, or something of the sort. And then there’s Samiel, teasing him back. Like when Michael and our dear best friend Ilyan keep bluffing at each other so much, they’re literally like two high school students who know they mutually like each other but are too nervous to actually do something about it.

Teasing war. And we’re caught in between and / or eating the cookies the Custodian made. Come on, let’s just imagine it.

Also, I’m rather new here, hello and it’s a pleasure to meet you all, feel free to put in whatever asks you may have and I’ll get to you in a moment. > <

#dark prince saga #angels & bread asmr #samiel

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kissofthemuses · 3 years

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Emilia

FULL NAME: Emilia Di Carlo Fury

SPECIES: witch goddess

OCCUPATION: restaurant cook goddess of Fury/queen of Hell

FANDOM: Kingdom of the Wicked

PHYSICAL

FACECLAIM: Adelaide Kane

ALT: Alessandra Mastronardi

PRONOUNS: she/her

AGE: 18-26 Immortal

BIRTHDATE: November 12

HAIR: black

EYES: brown

HEIGHT: 5'2″

ORIENTATION: pansexual

RELATIONSHIPS

MOTHER: Nicoletta The Crone Goddess

FATHER: Luciano

GRANDMOTHER: Nonna Maria

SIBLINGS: Vittoria/Death

PERSONALITY

MBTI: ENFJ-T / “Protagonist”

ALIGNMENT: neutral good

TEMPERAMENT: melancholic

ENNEAGRAM: type 6

TAGS

Threads

Headcanons

Musings

Inspo

BACKSTORY

Emilia and her twin sister Vittoria were born in Sicily, to Nicoletta and Luciano. They're streghe – witches who live secretly among humans, avoiding notice and persecution. One stormy night, when the girls had just turned 8, they were gifted very special necklaces while slowly learning their witch powers and history from their grandmother. There are seven demon princes but only four the witches should fear, but somehow their necklaces will keep them safe, even though they were instructed to never place them together.

One night, Vittoria misses dinner service at the family’s renowned Sicilian restaurant. Emilia soon finds the body of her beloved twin…desecrated beyond belief. Devastated, Emilia sets out to find her sister’s killer and to seek vengeance at any cost-even if it means using dark magic that’s been long forbidden.

In her search Emilia summons Wrath, one of the Wicked-princes of Hell she has been warned against in tales since she was a child. Wrath claims to be on Emilia’s side, tasked by his master with solving the series of women’s murders on the island. As she and Wrath work together as tenuous allies, Emilia uncovers more than the reason of her sister’s murder, she learns about an ancient prophecy about the twins, their ties to the Devil himself and the fate of the world.

In the end, in an attempt o protect herself and the ones she loved most, and the world, Emilia agrees to marry the Devil, to damn herself, to bring Hell to its knees, to avenge her sister.

However, when Emilia gets to Hell, everything she’s made to question everything she thought she knew. Staying in Wrath’s court until Pride decides to extend an invitation to them, Emilia begins to a deadly game to untangle the mysteries of who murdered her sister, and who she really is.

Along her journey, Emilia learns her magic runs deeper than she could have imagined. She also learns that Pride isn’t her betrothed, Wrath still is regardless of her intentions. She also learns Wrath’s true name and identity: he is Samiel, and he is the true Devil, not Pride. More shocking still is that Vittoria is alive and her beloved sister taunts Emilia to come find her and find out who they really are.

Before Emilia can meet with Vittoria, she and Wrath are called to Greed’s court to help solve a murder, which Vittoria is implicated in. Despite Vittoria’s actions and the faking of her own death, Emilia believes her sister to be innocent, and sets out to prove it. As she tries to prove this and save Vittoria’s life, the truth finally comes out: the twins entire lives had been a lie.

They were not witches, their beloved grandmother wasn’t their grandmother at all, they had never lived in Italy at all, and the girls were now fighting to regain everything they had once been.

Once upon a time Vittoria and Emilia were known as the goddesses of Death and Fury, the brutal sisters belonging to the 8th house of Hell- House Vengeance. They were there long before the fallen princes were cast into the underworld, and they were known as the Feared- the only beings that could scare the demon princes. Because they were so brutal, so cruel, the sisters were tricked by the witches who helped guard the gates of Hell. The witches were able to capture Emilia with the help of a curse the immortal First Witch put on Wrath, and Vittoria when she went to search for her sister.

They stripped the goddesses of their memories, implanting memories of a false life, and bound their power down as much as they could, putting them at the level of the witches. They threw the sisters into a prison of illusions and false memories, leaving them to live out a false life to keep them from remembering who they were and breaking the curses. The jailer who would ensure that they never remembered was a strong elder witch named Maria, who would pose as their kindly grandmother.

Once Emilia remembered, Vittoria reveled that her memories had come back after she found their true mother’s spell book and her faked death had been her breaking free and trying to get Emilia to remember too. To get her goddess powers back, Vittoria had to rip her mortal heart out and, eventually, Emilia allows Vittoria to rip hers out too, giving Emilia back all her powers as the Goddess of Fury. The two sought revenge on the witches who had stolen their lives.

After getting revenge and stopping the witches from causing a war among the kingdoms of Hell, Emilia breaks the curse on Wrath.

VERSES

ACOTAR

Emilia is a fae of the Night Court. She and her family live in the city of Velaris where they run a restaurant.

During the attack by Hybern's soldiers, Emilia's twin sister, Vittoria, goes missing and is presumed dead, leaving Emilia to mourn and try to piece together why she's still having dreams of her.

#{ muses }

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delabor · 5 years

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𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻

repost, don’t reblog !

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME. samael, archangel of death; ruler of fifth heaven; angel of darkness; destruction angel garrison chief / leader; poison / venom / severity / blindness of god; chief of evil spirits; head / leader of satans; chief of fallen angels; fifth regent NICKNAME. patron of rome; guardian angel of rome; prince of rome; archenemy of israel; patron of edom; grim reaper; fallen; crow @blessedisdeath ; poison of god; samil; smil; samiel; the accuser; seducer; destroyer; melkira (king of evil / king of the wicked); malkira / malchira (messenger of evil / angel of iniquity); belkira (lord of the wall); bechira (the elect of evil; chosen by evil); belial; satan; ruler of third hell; the serpent’s rider; azazel; prince of demons; blind god; god of the blind; first sinner; demiurge; yaldabaoth; saklas; camael, wild thing / mine samael / angel mine / feather pillow / handsome @fracturedmonster ; sammy, ale @estrangedaframian GENDER. genderless / male vessel (default) HEIGHT. 6′6.5 AGE. ancient ZODIAC. none SPOKEN LANGUAGES. all

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR. brown (default) EYE COLOR. hazel (default) ; red (grace flare) SKIN TONE. tan BODY TYPE. athletic; strong; muscled; graceful VOICE. forthright; faint rumble in throat under voice; quieter & lower when angry DOMINANT HAND. ambidextrous; but leans to right POSTURE. loose; very proper when challenged; insulted; angry; angelic (straightens back; shoulders; heightens chin) SCARS. none TATTOOS. six wings on back, down shoulders to elbows & just under waistband; enochian on inner right ankle; skeletal hourglass on inner left forearm; two inch oval with spokes & constellation on right upper arm riding edge of wing; two inch spur & stars on left side of chest, four or five inches from collarbone. avengers a on hip (verse dependent) BIRTHMARKS. scattered freckles / birthmarks MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). height; beard; messy hair; dark clothes; smile

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH. abyss before formal creation HOMETOWN. heaven SIBLINGS. billions / seven closest PARENTS. god (unacknowledged)

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION. drifter / deviant / permanent vacationer & jet setter without jet; former unpaid heavenly hired hitman / b omb CURRENT RESIDENCE. california CLOSE FRIENDS. ruby @fidelissimi ; rowena @hereticdefied ; dean @estrangedaframian RELATIONSHIP STATUS. single (verse dependent- @estrangedaframian ; @andinked ; @fracturedmonster ; @fightfiresnotdemons) FINANCIAL STATUS. comfortable DRIVER’S LICENSE. falsified from grace; flawlessly convincing CRIMINAL RECORD. only heavenly. may be wanted by human authorities. VICES. drugs; alcohol; food to excess; sex; murder; murderers; sin; sinners; dangerous situations; recent crime scenes; wearing leather; wearing novelty clothing items; inability to be serious; being eccentric; being erratic

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. pansexual / bisexual / all PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch (no emotions or unrequited preferred) PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch LIBIDO. high TURN ON’S. threats; dangerous / reckless / unlawful behavior; murder; sin; curves; muscles; thiccc ladies & gents; warriors; capability TURN OFF’S. commitment; commitment alluding language; confessions of tender feelings or emotions; humiliation scenes (receiving); ruining perfectly good food LOVE LANGUAGE. small presents; non malicious pranks; snuggling; affectionate touch; concern over well being; unending interest in opinions; thoughts & behaviors; complete se xual satisfaction; quiet & content in presence for long periods of time; ignoring emotional displays & remaining in presence; attempts to cook RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. one night stands; short term everything. keep it casual. even if it isn’t casual anymore-------; say it’s casual. it’s a smoke screen that makes him more comfortable. if you admit it’s serious to him he’ll ghost; no explanations.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. thriller; michael jackson HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. dancing; fighting; training; mur der; eating; drugs; drinking; pranks; travel; reading; composing; playing music; watching television; sleeping; creating enchanted items; blacksmithing; lying; gambling; se x LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. both. PHOBIAS. commitment; being contained or imprisoned; small spaces SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. high VULNERABILITIES. people he gets attached to; his own impending sense of doom; anxiety over the inevitability of mortality in regards to mortals he likes; pride; inability to forgive

Tagged by: @hereticdefied & @andinked

Tagging: @zzapzzaptasers & @hereticdefied & @blessedisdeath & @hellsholyground

#::memereply::#::headcanon::

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morgan-the-lonely-brick · 3 months

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Samiel: here's the worst of me

Carys: okay :3

Samiel: i have done many terrible things

Carys: undoubtedly, yes

Samiel: i am a bad person

Carys: no you aren't :3

Samiel: ..... But I killed thousands of people.

Carys: that's kinda hot

Samiel: 😳what

Carys: your eyes are really pretty :3

Samiel: *tearing up*wtf...?

#angels&bread asmr #The dark prince saga #DPCU #dark prince samiel

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starspeckedsys · 1 month

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D’yever think about the fact that SB only started being a more active participant in his and Samiel’s relationship (initiating a kiss, flirting with him, teasing back) after ascending because there wasn’t that power imbalance anymore and he treated him as equals? Because I think about it a lot.

- Caspian

#cosmosisthinks #fictive #osdd system #angels&bread asmr #dark prince series #dark prince samiel

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inkyardpress · 5 years

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Excerpt: CROWN OF CORAL AND PEARL by Mara Rutherford

Chapter One

Sometimes I wonder if it was our names that determined our fates, or the other way around. Nor and Zadie: coral and pearl. Both precious to our people, both beautiful enough to adorn the necks of queens. But whereas a pearl is prized for its luster, its shape, its lack of imperfections, coral is different. It grows twisted. In its natural form, it can hardly be considered beautiful at all.

Still, Zadie and I were born as equals in beauty, grace, and wit. We were, the elders declared, the loveliest babies ever born in Varenia. Mother proudly rowed us around in our family’s wooden boat, where Zadie and I would spend much of our childhood. She shaded our olive skin with wide-brimmed hats to prevent sunburn; she forced Father to sand down the sharp edges on our furniture; not a single dark hair on our heads was sacrificed to a pair of scissors. She inspected us every night for scratches or scrapes, then applied oils and salves while she scolded us to be more cautious.

After all, though Varenian women were blessed with hair as varied as the fish in our waters—from straight to ringlets, flaxen to ebony—and our skin was smooth and healthy in every shade from gold to burnished copper, beauty in our village was held to a higher standard. A girl’s features must be symmetrical and well proportioned, her complexion clear, her gaze bright and curious, though never too direct. Her presentation should always be impeccable, no matter the time or place. To truly stand out, a girl could be nothing short of perfect.

Because in Varenia, being a beautiful girl wasn’t just lucky. Once every generation, it determined which one of us would become a princess.

“Nor!” Zadie cried, pulling me back from the edge of the boat where I balanced on one foot. “What are you thinking? You can’t risk an injury now.”

I scratched at my scalp, tender from where Mother had plaited my hair extra tight as punishment for forgetting my hat yesterday. She was forever fretting that the sun would turn our silken hair brittle or—gods forbid—summon forth a freckle, but these days, the angry grumblings from my empty belly were loud enough to drown out Mother’s shrill voice in my head. We’d been looking for oysters for hours, to no avail.

Zadie, ever the dutiful daughter, batted my hand away. “Please, for Mother’s sake, behave. You know how nervous she is about the ceremony.” The ceremony. When hadn’t Mother been nervous about it? Every cloudless day spent in the shade of our stilt-legged wooden house, every missed pearl-diving opportunity because the sea was too rough… I owed them all to the ceremony and to our mother’s obsession with it.

“Ours is a kingdom without borders,” Father liked to say as he stood on the narrow balcony outside our house, shading his eyes with one hand as he scanned the horizon. Maybe that was true for him, but our life was a constant reminder that one day, the Crown Prince of Ilara would come of marrying age. And as it had been for hundreds of years, so would it be in three days—the elders would finally choose the most beautiful girl in Varenia to be his bride. The last girl had left us twenty years ago, when the present king was still a prince and the shoals hadn’t yet been plucked bare, but Mother assured us that she wasn’t half as beautiful as Zadie and me. Before the incident, she teased the elders that they would have to send both of us to marry the prince and let him decide for himself, because we were as indistinguishable as two silver featherfish.

Now, of course, it was clear who would be sent. The small pink scar on my right cheekbone was all that stood between the crown and me. Anywhere else on my body, an imperfection smaller than a Varenian pearl might have been overlooked, but compared to Zadie’s flawless skin, the jagged mark was impossible to ignore. Fortunately, I’d had the seven years since the incident to prepare for this, and seven years of relative freedom from our mother’s constant fussing—at least compared to Zadie.

I flopped back onto the cushions in the bottom of our boat and turned my face up to the cloud-dappled sky. “Are you ready for it?” I asked.

“For what?” Zadie feigned ignorance while she pulled her skirts over her exposed ankles.

“To leave Varenia. To leave Mother and Samiel.” To leave me.

“You don’t know they’re going to choose me. You’re just as beautiful as I am, and you never get sick. And I’ve heard rumors that Alys is being considered as well.”

I arched a skeptical brow. “Mother says that even with my scar, I’m prettier than Alys will ever be. How did she put it? ‘Alys has only to smile, and that snaggletooth will send the prince running for his nursemaid.’”

Zadie frowned. “Mother shouldn’t say such things. Alys can’t help it.”

“Neither can Mother,” I said with a wry look.

Zadie pulled on one of the lines hanging over the side of the boat, frowning at the tiny fish dangling from the end. Our waters had been overfished for years, though no one seemed to want to admit it. Zadie carefully laid the shimmering creature in the palm of her hand, removed the hook, and dropped it back into the sea. The fish was too small to eat, though we might have used it for bait, had there been anything larger to catch.

“I know Mother can be difficult, but she only wants what’s best for us,” Zadie said after a moment. “What she herself couldn’t have.”

Half a dozen snide comments popped into my head, but I held my tongue.

“Perhaps you’re right.”

Though I’d never told her, I knew for a fact Zadie would be the chosen one; the only one of us who would ever set foot on land—something I’d wished for since childhood. Because scar or no scar, Zadie was beautiful in a way I would never be. In Varenia, we were constantly searching for imperfections, whether in pearls or people, but Zadie only ever saw the good. Just last week, while I lamented the damage to our house from a passing storm, Zadie watched the sky, searching for rainbows.

So even when our mother was at her worst, Zadie could find something kind to say in return.

I would never be that good, that pure of heart. And that was a harder sort of pain to bear.

“I’m going swimming,” I said, wishing I could shed my thoughts as easily as my skirts.

Zadie glanced around anxiously. As young women of marrying age, we should never be seen barelegged in public, but diving in a skirt wasn’t just difficult—it was dangerous. Before, when oysters were plentiful, young men did most of the diving. But these days, girls and women helped out whenever possible. And in our family, with Father fishing every day and no brothers to share the burden, there was no other choice. Even Mother couldn’t complain too much—she knew how badly we needed the extra money.

“Are you coming?” I asked.

“The salt will dry out our skin. Mother will know.”

I placed my hands on my hips and grinned. “Last one to find an oyster has to make dinner tonight.” The truth was, we couldn’t afford to go home empty-handed. Not if we wanted to eat next week. But it was easier to pretend this was all a game, one in which the stakes weren’t life or death. “Ready?” She shook her head, but her fingers were already busy untying her skirt and tugging down her tunic to cover her thighs. “You’re wicked,” she said, then launched herself out of the boat into the clear water.

I dived in after her, letting the pressure build in my ears as I surged past Zadie toward the bottom, drowning out the little voice in my head that said, I know.

Several hours later, I was stirring a pot of watery fish stew over the fire when Samiel entered our house, his body still glistening with seawater from his swim over. Sami was our best friend, and the only boy in the village who had dared play with us as children. Not only was our mother strict beyond reason, our father was also the governor’s best friend. Sami was exempt from Mother’s scolding, however, seeing as his father was the governor.

“Don’t tell me Zadie found an oyster before you did,” he teased. Sami was as competitive as I was, but Zadie had gotten lucky today. The oyster lay on a small driftwood table nearby, already shucked and sadly lacking a pearl.

Our primary currency, the rare pink pearls that were only found in our waters, had also become scarce of late, as the Ilarean appetite for them continued to increase. The pearls were used to make jewelry for the nobility, but they could also be ground up and added to skin creams and cosmetics. Most Varenian families had a small jar of healing ointment made from the pearls, but that was to be saved for emergencies, since many of us were naturally healthy from spending so much time in the waters that were said to make the pearls special in the first place. After the incident, Mother had used the ointment daily on my scar in hopes of minimizing its appearance, but stopped once she realized it would never heal completely.

Sami dropped a tarnished brass button onto the table next to the empty oyster shell. “Look what I got for Zadie.”

I tsked in disapproval. By law, Ilara was our sole trade partner for all the things the sea couldn’t provide: clothing, fruits and vegetables, tools, books, barrels of fresh water. Even our firewood came from Ilara. But Sami was the exception to the rule. He often traded secretly—and illegally—with our cousins, the Galethians. Over a hundred years ago, a small population of Varenians had risked their lives to set foot on land, then quickly fled north on a herd of stolen Ilarean horses. Those horses became the foundation of the Galethian culture, just as the waves had formed ours.

“Wave children,” the Ilareans called us. And that was exactly how they treated us: like children.

Masters of both land and sea, the Ilareans had access to resources we could only dream of—not just fresh water and food, but also sophisticated weapons and thousands of men. Occasionally a desperate Varenian would attempt to land on Ilarean soil, in search of an easier life away from the whims of the sea, but they were usually dealt with swiftly and decidedly by the soldiers who patrolled the shoreline. It was possible a few got away with it, but any violation of Ilarean law wouldn’t just end in death for the defector in question—Ilara could eradicate our people swiftly and with little effort. They’d made that clear in all their dealings with us.

I poked at the button with feigned indifference, though in truth, anything from land fascinated me. “And what will Zadie do with a button? Use it to fasten the trousers she doesn’t wear?” “I’m making her a cloak to take with her when she leaves. She’ll be cold in Ilara.”

Sami knew as well as I did that Zadie was going to be chosen at the ceremony. It was as hard for him as it was for me, in some ways, because he loved her, too. He always had. I suspected that Zadie returned his love, but they both knew she would leave to marry the prince some day, so their relationship could never be more than friendship.

“That’s so thoughtful,” I said. “But you shouldn’t be trading with the Galethians. If you’re caught, they’ll hang you.”

“Then I guess I can’t get caught.” He smiled, revealing teeth as white as shells against his tanned skin. Boys didn’t carry the same burden as Varenian girls, at least not when it came to scars and sunburns. They had to provide for their families, however, and that was becoming harder and harder. Last year, two pearls had been enough to feed a family for a month. Now it took twice that many, yet somehow the quality of the goods they fetched was poorer. I had learned a long time ago not to ask questions about our trade relationship with Ilara—it was the elders’ place to worry about such things, not mine. And according to Mother, I had far more important things to worry about, like the sheen of my hair or the length of my eyelashes.

But that had never stopped me from wondering about the world beyond Varenia.

“Any news from Galeth?” I asked.

“There’s talk of an uprising in Southern Ilara.”

“That’s nothing new.”

He shook his head. “It’s getting worse. King Xyrus refuses to grant safe passage to the refugees heading north, even though the Galethians would welcome them with open arms.”

“Anything to bolster their army.”

“It’s more than that. The Galethians were refugees once, too.”

I turned the button over in my hand. It was engraved with a small, many-petaled flower. I’d heard of roses, though I’d never seen one before. I tried to imagine a world in which something as small as a button was deemed worthy of this level of craftsmanship.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, before dropping the button into the empty oyster shell.

“Just like Zadie.”

Sami’s hand closed around my shoulder, and I leaned my cheek against it. “What will we do without her?” I whispered.

There was a pause, then a cough. “I suppose we’ll just have to marry each other.”

I rapped his knuckles with the wooden spoon I held, and he pulled his hand away. “I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last boy in Varenia.”

He placed his hand on his chest, feigning offense. “And why not?”

“Because you’re my best friend. And worse, you’re the future governor.”

“You’re right. You’d make a terrible governor’s wife, anyway.” He snatched a dried date off the table and darted out of my reach.

“Do that again, and I swear I won’t marry you. You’ll be stuck with Alys.” He grimaced. “Imagine our little shark-toothed children. My mother would weep.”

Zadie poked her head around the door and frowned. “You’re both wicked, do you know that? Alys is kind and loyal. You’d be lucky to marry her.”

“You’re right,” I said, chastened. I knew better than most what it was like to be judged by one’s appearance.

Zadie twisted her wet hair at the side of her head, letting the fresh water from her bath drip into the bucket we used to rinse our dishes. Zadie never slept with seawater in her hair at Mother’s behest, though fresh water from Ilara was expensive and meant to be saved for drinking and cooking.

“Would a wicked man bring you this?” Sami asked, proffering the brass button in its mother-of-pearl serving tray.

She gasped, then folded her arms across her chest. “I suppose he would, since an honest man could never have come by this.”

He glanced at me over his shoulder, then moved closer to Zadie. “You like it, don’t you? Please say you do. I wanted to make you a cloak, to take with you to Ilara. It will be cold in the mountains.”

“You don’t know I’m going yet,” she said, though her posture softened.

“Besides, where would you get cloth for a cloak?”

“An honest man would never betray his source.”

“An honest man wouldn’t have a source to begin with.”

I pretended to stir the stew—even watered down, it was barely enough for the four of us—while I watched them from beneath my lashes. I was grateful Zadie hadn’t chided him for wasting money that could have gone toward food, but they should be distancing themselves from each other, if they knew what was good for them. If not for my scar, perhaps I would be the one going to Ilara. Then Sami and Zadie could marry as they pleased, and I would get to see more than an engraving of a rose on a silly brass button for another girl.

Maybe in another life, I thought bitterly. But not in this one.

“What’s that wonderful smell?” Father asked as he entered the house behind Zadie, sending Sami stumbling away from her. Father had just come back from fishing in deeper waters, judging by the sea salt crust on his brow and his wind-chapped cheeks.

“The same thing we eat every night,” I said. “Unless you caught something today?”

He gave a small, sad shake of his head, and my stomach grumbled in response.

I tapped the spoon on the side of the pot to cover the sound. “That’s all right, Father. The last time Zadie cooked fish, the house stunk for a week.” Sami laughed, and Zadie pretended to be offended, gently pushing Sami aside. Even my father allowed himself a small smile at my attempt to lighten the mood. My parents had noticed the way Sami and Zadie acted around each other—it was impossible not to—but Father was a little more tolerant than Mother, who wanted nothing to distract Zadie from fulfilling her ultimate purpose in life: becoming queen, since Mother herself had not. Twenty years ago, that honor had gone to another young woman, and Mother wasn’t about to let history repeat itself. I was her safeguard, though in the past year or so, when it became more and more clear Zadie would make it to the ceremony unscathed, she’d focused the bulk of her attention on my poor sister.

Father cleared his throat and turned to Sami, who quickly hid the button behind his back. “I believe your father is looking for you. Something about you being missing earlier today, when you were supposed to be delivering firewood to your aunts?” He arched an eyebrow, but I could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Yes, sir. I was just leaving.” Sami turned to give Zadie a kiss on the cheek, then me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Not tomorrow,” Father reminded him. “The girls will be preparing for the ceremony, remember?”

He wasn’t a particularly imposing man, at least not to me, but Sami flushed. “Of course. At the ceremony, then.” I wished Father would leave and give Sami a chance to say a proper goodbye. The next time he saw Zadie, she would be as good as betrothed to the Prince of Ilara.

“Goodbye,” Zadie and I said in unison as Sami ducked out onto the balcony, where a rope ladder led down to the water. Our house, like all the houses in Varenia, was made from the wood of a sunken ship, but every few years we painted it an orangey-pink, a shade Mother favored that was also easy to see on the horizon, guiding us home during the daytime when a lantern would be of little use.

Father settled down onto a low stool carved from driftwood. “I see Nor is cooking tonight. Does that mean Zadie found the oyster?” He gestured to the shiny gray glob of flesh I’d laid in one of our cracked porcelain bowls. Some of our possessions were traded for, but others had been pulled up from shipwrecks. Mother never asked how I came by such items, particularly if I found her something that appealed to her vanity, like a hand mirror or a tortoiseshell comb.

Zadie and I shared a glance. To admit Zadie found the oyster meant admitting that she had been swimming today, against Mother’s orders. She was counting on the impressive bride price the prince would send to the chosen girl’s family once they married, but we had to eat in the meantime. And who knew how many oysters there would be tomorrow, or next week? Sami had overheard his father speaking to the elders at night in hushed whispers, so we knew things were worse than our parents let on.

“I found it,” I said. “But I bet her there would be a pearl in it, and there wasn’t.” “That’s a shame. Well, as long as I get to eat the oyster, I suppose it doesn’t matter who found it.” Father winked at Zadie as she handed him the bowl. “You’re good girls, both of you.”

As he tipped back the bowl and let the oyster slide into his mouth, Zadie and I came to stand on either side of him. “I’ll miss whichever one of you is taken from me,” he said. “But I always knew this day would come. That’s what I get for marrying the most beautiful girl in Varenia.”

Mother stepped into the house from the balcony, twisting her own freshly washed hair into a braid. She had never dived deep enough to burst her eardrums—something many of the older villagers did to help with the pressure—and her hearing was some of the sharpest in the village. Only a few fine lines pulled at the corners of her eyes and lips, a testament to the benefits of wearing a sun hat (and of rarely smiling).

“Our beauty is a reflection of the favor Thalos has bestowed upon this family,” she said, gazing out the window at the darkening waves, as if the ocean god himself were watching. A sudden burst of sea spray shot up through the cracks in our wooden floorboards, and Mother’s eyes blazed with satisfaction. “We will honor him with our sacrifice,” Father added.

I squeezed Zadie’s hand behind his back and wished the sun would never set. The ocean never gave gifts without expecting something in return, it was said, and Thalos was a hungry god.

Click here to continue reading Crown of Coral and Pearl or to learn more about the book!

#Mara Rutherford #crown of coral and pearl #book excerpt #ya books #ya reads

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