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#what-the-dark-has-foretold
Tsumu who only got together with you to get in bed with you, but the moment your warmth envelops him he gets sooo pussy drunk, ready to pull out a ring then and there. Turns so whiny and begs you to let him cum and cum and cum inside. His eyes big with love when he finally pulls out and watched his cum ooze out of you pretty pussy 💕 swears he'll treat you so fucking well for all of your life 💕
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Autumn Festival 2023
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Hello everyone and welcome back to our annual Autumn Festival. This year, we will start a bit before the Equinox with weekly updates leading up to Samhain (Halloween).
Last year, we already had a few stories that could only be viewed on my nsfw side blog @what-the-dark-has-foretold, which will be the case this year as well. Those fics will be marked with an *. The link to the Autumn Festival post on that blog can be found here. Please remember though that these stories are all 18+.
Now to the schedule:
Fri, 15.09.: Dainsleif, New Moon * (published)
Fri, 22.09.: Zandik, Mabon
Fri, 29.09.: Nikolai Gogol, Full Moon
Thu, 5.10.: Heizou and Ranpo, remembering last year's guests *
Wed, 11.10.: Chrollo, Autumnal Days
Tue, 17.10.: Shigaraki, my birthday *
Tue, 24.10.: Fyodor
Tue, 31.10.: Feitan
Those in italics may be subject to slight or complete changes still.
I wish you all a very happy time during this year's Autumn Festival!!!
El 🌺
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cassandraclare · 25 days
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New publishing announcement!
Hi guys!
I know it’s been a long time since there’s been news about The Wicked Powers. I’ve actually been sitting on information for a long time because I was not allowed to talk about it. It was making me pull out all my hair, so I am super glad to be able to share the following announcement with you: The Wicked Powers is scheduled for publication, and will be published by Walker Books in the UK and Random House in the US.
There’s a bunch more about this announcement, including the announcement of a brand-new YA romantasy series I’ll be doing called In Fire Foretold. That will be published by Pan Macmillan in the UK (same people who published Sword Catcher) and by Random House in the US.
I know there will be a lot of questions about what my schedule is, why things are coming out when they are, whether I have anything coming out next year (Yes, The Ragpicker King, the sequel to Sword Catcher, and also for those who participated in the Kickstarter, those four books) and the overall future of everything Shadowhunter-related. So I will be doing followup announcements to address all that stuff, but first, here are both press release from my publishers in the US and then in the UK with all the info!
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GLOBALLY BESTSELLING FANTASY PHENOMENON CASSANDRA CLARE TO PUBLISH  FINAL TRILOGY IN THE ‘SHADOWHUNTER CHRONICLES’  AND NEW DUOLOGY WITH ALFRED A. KNOPF BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS  First book in THE WICKED POWERS to release in Spring 2026
(New York, NY, April 5, 2024)—Alfred A. Knopf Books for Young Readers, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, will publish five new books from #1 New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Cassandra Clare, whose novels have sold more than 40 million copies worldwide, been translated into 43 languages, and published in more than 60 countries. The new publications will begin in Spring 2026 with the first book in THE WICKED POWERS trilogy, the sixth and final series in Clare’s 23-book, young adult fantasy franchise The Shadowhunter Chronicles. Also slated for publication with Knopf is a brand-new YA romantasy duology, IN FIRE FORETOLD. The news was announced today by Melanie Nolan, VP and Publisher, Alfred A. Knopf Books for Young Readers, who acquired North American rights from Suzie Townsend and Joanna Volpe of New Leaf Literary & Media in a highly competitive auction. Michelle Frey, Senior Executive Editor, Alfred A. Knopf Books for Young Readers, will edit both series. 
Cassandra Clare mesmerized readers across the globe with the publication of City of Bones (2007), the first book in the Mortal Instruments series, and was quickly dubbed the “New Queen of Fantasy” by the Wall Street Journal. The Mortal Instruments became the basis for the far-reaching Shadowhunter Chronicles, an intricately drawn world that has seen global success and has been adapted into both a feature film and television show. The books follow the Shadowhunters, a secretive race of humans born with angel blood, whose mission is to eliminate the demons that plague the Earth. Knopf’s first publishing collaboration with Clare, THE WICKED POWERS (Spring 2026), will follow Kit Herondale, Ty Blackthorn, and Drusilla Blackthorn from The Dark Artifices series as they are drawn into the final massive conflict between the demons and the angels. 
IN FIRE FORETOLD is a pulse-pounding YA romantasy duology set in a new world with entirely new characters. The story centers a young woman who must learn to control her dangerous magical abilities in order to save her kingdom, all while finding herself torn between two brothers—the kingdom's princes, born to a cursed royal bloodline. The publication date for IN FIRE FORETOLD, as well as news of additional books to come from Cassandra Clare and Knopf, will be announced. 
Says Cassandra Clare: "I am delighted to have Knopf and Penguin Random House as my publishers for this last trilogy in the Shadowhunters world. They truly understand what it means—both for the story and for my readers—to wrap up such an epic tale that has been told over so many years. I'm also excited to be launching my next YA series — a kickass portal fantasy that contains a ton of things I love, from a bold and reckless heroine to a magical wasteland filled with terrifying monsters that must be fought, to a love triangle with two very unusual cursed princes. I can't wait for us to bring these stories to the world."
Says Michelle Frey: “Cassandra Clare is a beloved author whose work has a massive following for good reason: she sucks you into a fully imagined world and never lets go until the last, satisfying page. I have long admired Cassie and am thrilled to be working with her on both the delectable final trilogy in the Shadowhunter Chronicles and the heart-stopping new love triangle she has dreamed up with IN FIRE FORETOLD.”
Random House Children’s Books (rhcbooks.com) is the world’s largest English-language children’s trade book publisher. Creating books for toddlers through young adult readers, in all formats from board books to activity books to picture books, novels, and nonfiction, the imprints of Random House Children’s Books bring together award-winning authors and illustrators, world-famous franchise characters, and multimillion-copy series. Random House Children’s Books is a division of Penguin Random House LLC.
UK/AUS/NZ:
Walker Books will publish three new books, the final trilogy in Shadowhunter Chronicles, the first coming in Spring 2026.
Separately, First Ink will publish a brand new YA duology, introducing readers to a fantastical new world of Clare’s creation, filled with enticing new characters and heart-racing action. With sales figures for Cassandra’s novels exceeding 40 million copies worldwide, translated into 43 languages and published in more than 60 countries, these are exciting and major acquisitions for both publishing houses.
Walker will launch THE WICKED POWERS in Spring 2026 with the first book in the trilogy, The Last King of Faerie. THE WICKED POWERS is the final instalment of Clare’s 23-book, young adult fantasy series, Shadowhunter Chronicles.
THE WICKED POWERS (Spring 2026), will follow Kit Herondale, Ty Blackthorn, and Drusilla Blackthorn from The Dark Artifices series as they are drawn into the final massive conflict between the demons and the angels. The novel marks the beginning of the final trilogy in Clare’s globally beloved series.
Cassandra Clare Says about THE WICKED POWERS: "I’m thrilled to be taking this momentous step in the Shadowhunter chronicles with Walker! They published City of Bones in 2007 and now we will be bringing this huge epic to a close together. With their creativity and dedication, I know they’ll do it justice."
Denise Johnstone Burt says: “We at Walker are immensely proud to have been Cassie’s publishers from the very beginning, when City of Bones launched the Shadowhunters into the world. Since then Cassie has become one of the most beloved writers in YA fantasy all over the world, and with very good reason. Her world-building and character portrayal are absolutely second to none and her books never fail to mesmerise her fans. I am delighted that we will be returning to the world of Shadowhunters once again in THE WICKED POWERS, and know Cassie will bring the Chronicles to a conclusion with her trademark brilliance and consummate style.”
First Ink will publish IN FIRE FORETOLD, a pulse-pounding YA romantasy duology set to delight all fans of Cassie Clare. UK and Commonwealth rights were acquired by Samantha Smith, Publisher of First Ink and Macmillan Children’s Books’ Fiction, Non Fiction and Picture Book List, from Danny Baror and Heather Baror-Shapiro at Baror International.  The duology will be a super lead title for First Ink and will launch with a significant multi-channel communications campaign including national media, influencer and fan events [HBS1] and multimedia advertising.
IN FIRE FORETOLD sees the launch of a brand new world and set of entirely new characters for Clare. The story centres on a young woman who must learn to control her dangerous magical abilities in order to save her kingdom, all while finding herself torn between two brothers - the kingdom's princes - born to a cursed royal bloodline.
Cassandra Clare says about IN FIRE FORETOLD: “I’m so excited to be publishing IN FIRE FORETOLD with First Ink. This story contains so many things I love- it’s a portal fantasy that swings between worlds, where the gritty LA streets exist alongside a dangerous magical world filled with deadly monsters - and a uniquely tough heroine who’s ready to do battle on all sides. Not to mention some gorgeous princes with shady pasts. I know how much Pan Macmillan loves fantasy and how well they publish it so I’m thrilled for this partnership."
Samantha Smith, Publisher at First Ink, says: “Cassandra Clare is a phenomenon author who has delighted and surprised her millions of readers across the world for decades now. As a huge fan of both her YA Mortal Instruments series and latest adult fantasy Sword Catcher, I cannot wait for her to turn her formidable pen to a new, heart-stopping series in In the Fire Foretold and could not be more excited to welcome her onto the First Ink list”
Belinda Ioni Rasmussen, Managing Director at Macmillan Children’s Books, says: “ Welcoming Cassandra Clare to First Ink with a brand new fantasy world is very exciting - both for us and her fans.  Her storytelling is second to none and her new duology on our list is the perfect partner series to her brilliant publishing that sits on our Tor list at Pan Macmillan.”
About Walker Books
Home to books for all ages, Walker Books publishes many award-winning authors, illustrators, and literary franchisesincluding Anthony Horowitz, Angie Thomas, Cassandra Clare, Lucy Cousins, Anthony Browne, Patrick Ness, Guess How Much I Love You by Sam McBratney and Anita Jeram, We’re Going on a Bear Hunt by Michael Rosen and Helen Oxenbury, and Where’s Wally? by Martin Handford. Walker Books is part of the vibrant international Walker Books Group that includes Walker Books Australia; Candlewick Press and Walker Books US in America and Walker Productions.
About Pan Macmillan
At Pan Macmillan we publish a broad and vibrant range of books for audiences of all ages, from dazzling bestsellers to influential prize-winners; books to inspire lifelong readers and listeners to enduring classics for generations to come. The fourth largest UK publisher, we pride ourselves on publishing successfully and sustainably and are committed to working together to positively impact culture and society at large.
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brailsthesmolgurl · 1 month
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DAMNATION
A legend foretold that the princess' heart is the only way to save his people. What happens when he refuses to take her heart when he had foolishly fell in love with her? But, what if she wanted to give his people the life that they deserved? Warnings: Angst, No Comfort, Death of Character, Blood and Gore, you might let out a tear or two, there could be an alternate ending in a parallel universe. Slight Spoiler for Rafayel's lore.
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"Rafayel, please, please, please let me help your people." She sniffled, eyes and nose a hue of red as she held onto the sleeves of the God of the Sea. They had been at this argument for days, and time is not exactly in Rafayel's favour. His people are dying, and her heart, is the only thing that could save his kind from extinction.
It has to be out of her own will, they said. And here he is, watching y/n with his eyes that had taken up a shade of dark purple. The lack of lighting within her chambers had given him a good camouflage for his frown. He got her, to surrender her heart by her own will. But, Rafayel could not do it.
His right hand reached up to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks and he spoke softly, as if to conjure up whatever willpower he had left within his system to convince her to stop talking about this. "My love, you know I could not bear to lose you. I know my people may be in pain and suffrage, but I also know that you deserve the world. With me."
"BUT I ALREADY SAID I CAN!" Y/n shouted, the grabbed the candle holder by her bedside table and threw it across the room, her tears are now flowing like streams down her cheeks. Rafayel held her as she collapsed into his arms, sobbing and curling into a ball. Her voice a hushed whisper as she spoke. "How is living here any better than being dead? I am constantly locked in my tower, I had only ever been out whenever you are around and I just can't find myself to live like this anymore."
Her sigh ached Rafayel's heart, it hurts him deeply to watch her cry and to watch her make such a decision for him, for his people. He was caught up in between, eyes wandering across her dark room as the last source of lighting was put out. The moonlight however, casted a silvery-bluish sheen into the room, making the overall room more gloomy than it already is.
Rafayel took in a deep breath, muttering something about 'there must be another way to this', and he used his long index finger to lift up her chin, so her eyes meet his. "My love, I want you to stay put right here. I will be back by dawn tomorrow and we shall make a final decision on this. Please, heed my advice and just stay here alright? I will be back for you, as always my quintessence."
He placed a kiss on her forehead, her cheek and lastly on her lips. Just like how he would always comfort her. Pulling back, he noticed the way her eyes struggled to open and with that, he slowly laid her back onto her bed, and tucked her in. She must be exhausted from the amount of crying she had for the night. Smoothing his hand over her silky brown hair, he presented a sad smile, eyes wavering while he looked at her for one last time for the night.
He had to make a choice, either it would be to sacrifice her or to sacrifice his people. Both bringing an equally heavy burden to his heart and soul. Call him a god, they said. But he is no longer one as he harbored such selfish thoughts to his own desire. Putting on his mask, he got off of the bed, stood at the window and then plunge down into the waters below.
...
It has been a few hours, and y/n rose from her bed, still groggy from her sleep. She looked out of her window to find her windows were widely opened, the moon shining brightly and she wondered to herself when did Rafayel left. It should be a couple of hours ago as the last thing she recalled was his lips on her face. And she recalled meeting him right after dinner time ended.
A whistling tune was heard from outside of her window, a tune so melodic that she was enchanted to approach her window sill. Her hands glided over the smooth stone slab and she peeked her head out before she was met with a boy in the waters below her towers. The scales on his body signified that he is a Lemurian, just like Rafayel.
"What are you doing here?" Y/n panicked, eyes darting all over her surroundings to scan for any witnesses around. You see, if Lemurians were caught, they would be pawned off to the wealthy, as it showcases the sign of one's wealth. And that was how Rafayel met y/n. But y/n knew that possessing a Lemurian would not grant her a new status nor the freedom she had longed for, hence, she freed him after they had promised to find each other again in the future.
"My name is Arvia---" Before he could even finish, he coughed, desperately holding onto his chest as he heaved for his breath. "I came to---" Another cough, one of his hand sprung out from the water to close his mouth, to silence his coughs as he did not want to draw any unwanted attention. As he withdrew his hand, y/n gasped. Crimson stain on his pale white hands, people on land may have identify it as lung infection, but she knew that Lemurians are leaning towards the grim reaper's will.
"Please, please my quintessence, I know My Highness would not let us near you." Blood trickled down the sides of his lips as he spoke. "But I plead you, as my mother has been in suffrage for the past few days, she could not speak anymore, let alone sing. All of my siblings are met with ill coughs, just like mine, carrying crimson taints. I beg of you, shall you have the means to save Lemuria, please meet us at the sea stacks as dawn strikes."
Another cough comes at the end of his sentence and she watched as he harshly pounded his chest, as if doing that would ease his cough better. "I'll be there!" Y/n responded without hesitation and her determined eyes were met with Arvia's aquamarine ones. The young merman wiped the blood off of his lips and he nodded his head before he dived back into the water, a hint of his tail peeking out as he swam back into the deep waters.
Y/n rushed back into her room and opened her wooden wardrobe, eyeing the gowns that she owns and picking one out that is made of the thinnest material possible. She wanted her movements to be stealthy and languid, hence the thin material would come to be more useful than a heavier drape. She changed into the white gown, and grabbed her fur coat to drape it over her small stature. Glancing at herself for the last time in the mirror situated next to her wardrobe, she felt a pang of sadness coarsing through her body.
She has chosen her own journey, she has decided on her own death. But it was all for the better right? One small sacrifice for the greater good. Staring at her own reflection, she realised her tears had streamed down her face. Why is she crying? She had no idea. But perhaps it has something to do with the ending of her life. No matter how convinced she is of her death being a greater sacrifice, she could never forgive herself for going against her lover's will.
She wiped off her tears and huffed. "This is it. My death shall come with a greater meaning. Rafayel would understand eventually." Before she could change her mind, she grabbed the rope Rafayel had made for her and she tossed it out of the window to climb down from her tower.
...
Perhaps the gown was not the best idea. Strong winds and thin gowns are not exactly complimentary to one another. Her fur coat however, ended mid waist so the length below her waist was bare to the wind's torture. It took her quite a while to arrive to the location that was appointed by the merman.
The huge rock sat in the middle of the sea, unwavering as the waves crashed against it. The sky was dark but along the silhouttes, there was hints of an orangy-yellow shade, a sign that dawn is approaching. Y/n took off her footwear and laid them onto the sand, and she took off her coat to lay it next to her footwear. The wind batted against her whole body even more harshly, making her shiver and tremble as she made her way into the waters.
As the sun started to rise even more, she noticed a few heads emerged from the further ends of the vast ocean, as if watching her as she made her way towards the rock. Arvia then bobbed his head out of the waters and he spoke. "You came, my quintessence. Come, take your seat on the rock." He looked ghastly, eyes sunken in and scales fading of its usual bright colours. He held out his hand and guided y/n up towards the rock.
Another merman surfaced from the depths of the ocean and y/n recognised this merman. He was always stuck to Rafayel's hip when she met Rafayel for the first couple of times. She never got to know of his name but she assumed that he plays an important role in guiding and supervising Rafayel's actions. "I believe we had met for a few times, when I was on land with My Highness. My name is Amund and I was summoned by my people to perform the sacrificial ritual on you."
His eyes glinted a sheen of red as he spoke to her. Was this the guy that Rafayel had warned her about? 'My people are of gentle nature, but I am afraid one shall lead them all towards perdition.' Rafayel's voice rung in her head. "Do you, my quintessence, know the risk of such sacrificial ritual?" Amund questioned her, eyes raking over her body in an uncomfortable manner.
"I will be able to save Lemuria right?" She responded, eyes filled with hope. "Will I?" She second guessed herself and Amund said nothing but nodded. He raised his hand to beckon to his fellow Lemurians and some of them started approaching her. "Wait, what is happening?"
"As long as my quintessence is at will to give us the God of Sea's heart, we will ensure that the sacrificial ritual is done with the utmost care and respect you deserve." A dagger appeared in Amund's hand. Silver dagger with red crystals adorning it's hilt, it definitely does look like a ceremonial dagger.
"Are you going to drown me first? Rafayel told me that as long as I am willing to give out my heart, then I could be drowned prior to the ceremony. Is it not?" She remembered Rafayel told her some details about how the ceremony takes place but given she was not drowned yet, she was curious if there was a different course of ceremonial action. "My quintessence, as I mentioned earlier, you deserve the utmost care and respect for your sacrifice for the people of Lemuria." He held up the dagger and gave a look towards the other mermans that were surrounding her. "Make sure she stays still throughout the ceremony." The mermans then grabbed her arms and legs and they stretched her limply across the rock. Y/n however, knew that she could not back up anymore at this point.
But, what she did not know was that this so-called ceremony was nothing more than a mere revenge to be taken upon Rafayel. The god who chose to leave his people to pursue his love with a mere mundane. Amund, does not approve of this relationship and neither does he want that to ever happen again. He wants to watch Rafayel suffer like how his people did.
"Stay still my quintessence, this would hurt." Without another word, Amund stabbed the dagger into her collarbone and y/n screamed in pain, tears started flowing from her face but she could not move as she was held down tightly. The pain did not stopped as the dagger dragged from her collarbone to the sides of her breasts. Her screams never falter just like her blood that never stopped flowing, staining the rock and eventually dripped into the ocean.
...
Rafayel had returned to her chambers but she was nowhere to be found. "Y/N? Y/N?" He called out to her name quietly as he walked towards her bed. Flipping the sheets, he was only met with the sight of her pillow stacked together to form a silhouette of her. He turned around and noticed the wardrobe that was sprung open, and her satin lounging attire tousled into a ball on the hardwood floorings. Confused, he looked over to the window sill and his guesses were right, she had escaped from her tower.
Without hesitation, the God of the Sea jumped out of the window and plunged right into the waters, not even caring if that had caused a huge splash to alert the guards as he had no time left to spare. He had to rescue her.
Earlier on, when Rafayel had left her chambers, he went back to Lemuria to speak with Amund. When he arrived at Armund's door, Arvia came out of the house, eyes widened when he was face-to-face with the lilac-haired God. "Your highness." Arvia half bowed and went along his way. Swimming past Rafayel and off into the weeds that were littered around the towns of Lemuria.
"What was Arvia doing here?" Rafayel asked as he closed the door to Amund's abode and finally meeting Amund's eye.
"His family was in dire need of some pearl essence. His mother's throat was ruined and his siblings are all ridden with coughs that drains their blood." Amund responded as he placed vials and bottles of medicine back onto the shelves. The clinking and clanking of the vials and bottles are the only sounds filling the silence before he continued. "Your Highness, you cannot delay any further. Our people are dying. And they desperately need the heart."
"Amund, listen." Rafayel spoke in a stern tone, hands running through his lilac strands as he looked frustrated. "I can't bring myself to do it. I just can't." The vial containing the pearl essence floated out of Amund's grasp and he looked at Rafayel with widened eyes. There comes the shouting, "You would rather watch Lemuria wilt just to save a woman that you have feelings for?! How dare you say that?! What do you think the people of Lemuria would have thought, that their one and only hope has decided to betray them all for the sake of a mere mortal?!"
Rafayel winced at Amund's booming voice, although he looked saddened with the situation at hand, his voice maintained the same as his posture, still and calm. "There shall be another way to change fate. I will do whatever I can to save my people but without the cost of losing my beloved bride. The decision is final." He turned to leave but stopped, whipped his head back and he warned. "Anyone who acted against my orders shall die upon my hand."
...
The waves batted against the shores, feigning a scene where the water desperately wants to come onto the shore. Just like how the mermans once dreamed of wanting to walk on land and having to dive back into the waters based on their own will. But they were bound, bound to the waters as coming onto land would not impose any leverage for them.
Rafayel ran across the beach, eyes searching every inch of land and water to find his beloved. The sun is rising and the pastel skies no longer gave Rafayel a sense of comfort but it added onto his paranoia, assumptions of the worst case scenario constantly teasing their way into his mind.
His heart suddenly hurt like someone had shot him with a canon ball and he fell in his steps, clutching onto his chest as he struggled to breathe. Not long after when he regained his breath, something felt different in him. Something felt like a--- a beating heart. Rafayel gasped at the feeling as it further confirmed his nightmare.
He ran as fast as his mundane legs could carry him down the shore and passing a cliff, he witnessed a figure, sprawled out on a rock limply, and he screamed. "Y/N!"
He trudged the waters and climbed up the rock, not even caring that the barnacles had sliced off pieces of his sole. He did not care at all as the scene in front of him would trigger bloodshed afterwards. Y/n laid on the rock, eyes closed, but blood trailed from her eyes, nostrils, and ears, staining her once beautiful white dress into a bright crimson red. Her chest bared a gaping hole exactly where the heart was supposed to be situated.
Rafayel reached out his shaky hands to touch her cheeks and in that moment, he got a brief flashback of her last moments. Her screams echoed through his mind, but none of her screams mouthed the word 'STOP'. Amund was there, alongside with a couple of other mermans that were holding her down. Amund was slicing into her skin, carelessly opening up a big hole on the left side of her chest just to retrieve the heart from her.
Rafayel's tears streamed when the flashback showed y/n stopped screaming and twitching when Amund grabbed the heart out of her body, holding it high up in the air as if it was some trophy earned. And just like that, the flashback ended and Rafayel was snapped back into reality, with her body laid right in his arms. He whimpered, but no sounds were emitted from his throat, his cries were silenced by the throbbing pain within his heart.
Watching her pale and faceless expression, Rafayel held her face close to his neck, getting his body stained with her blood like how he would always get paint stained on his clothes whenever he was painting portraits of her. But this time, he did not want the stain to be washed off. He did not want it to fade either, as it would remind him of the pain his own people had brought upon him.
"Why?" He asked the air, as you would no longer be the one to reply to him. "Why would they do this to you?" His voice a hushed whisper as the ocean started to rage. "Why couldn't they at least make it painless for you?" He was referring to the drowning that should have taken place prior to the ceremony of removing her heart. It would have hurt way lesser than this, it would have been more comforting, it would have lessen the bloodshed that would be committed by Rafayel.
"I will always, always wait for you my love. No matter how long it takes." He stood up, with her still in his arms, and he looked out into the horizon, staring into the waves that would soon remind his people of his identity of being the God of the Sea. The dark clouds started to close in, accompanied with lightning strikes that fears the men at seas. Rafayel held her lifeless body, clinging onto whatever warmth that was left from her body before he mustered up the courage to say this. His eyes turned from the usual blueish-purplish shade to a dark set of purple pupils. "I shall bring damnation to my people as how they had brought damnation to me."
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Sequel here: Retribution
Parallel Universe Ending is up! Read through Retribution and you shall find the link for the parallel not-so-angsty ending!
And there you go my darlings, I wanna watch that tear drop :)
I think I will come out with an alternate not-so-angsty ending if i feel like it sometime in the near future. Lemme know what you guys think hehe <3. If any of you fancy for any requests of similar calliber or even new ideas, drop me a dm :>
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eliotbaum · 11 months
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Them³. 
Some people expressed interest in the backstories & relationship between these characters so it’s under a cut. Beware, it’s full of Vallaki spoilers and. very long……. 
Lydia Petrovna/Fiona Wachter/my pc Father Dunant
Alright so, a not-so brief overview of each individual’s background and where their stories meet. Mind you, that is everything I currently know about the characters, and I'm pretty sure Lady W is still hiding something.
Lydia Petrovna has always been a frail, meek-hearted woman, but with a kind soul. For what she lacked, her best friend from ever since made up for it; Fiona Wachter was everything she ever wanted to be. Strong, assertive and with force of will. 
But Lydia also desired her in a different way, one that went beyond friendship and admiration. Fiona was not aware of those feelings and pursued Nikolai, while Lydia fell for Vargas, despite Fiona’s warnings and wishes for her not to do so. It fell on deaf ears, as Vargas seemed like a genuinely kind man. Suffice to say to those who played the game: the good qualities Lydia loved disappeared over time and he ended up emotionally abusing her, smothering her in a way where she completely lost who she was. Lydia was always desperate to help others despite her constitution and lack of powers or influence, so she thought putting on a bright face and encouraging the "all will be well" ideology would suffice. But she suffered greatly under it, too, coping with solitude and drug/alcohol abuse. Regardless, she kept holding onto hope, believing a better tomorrow will come one day. 
Vargas growing more paranoid of everyone ended up manipulating Lydia into believing Fiona and her husband were not to be trusted. And with Lydia’s facade steadily replacing what Fiona loved about her, ultimately drove the friendship to a breaking point after decades.
Fiona Wachter received a prophecy from an oracle (Madame Eva) while she was a young lady. The prophecy foretold of an outsider coming into Vallaki to bring great ruin, but his blood would also bring back sunlight to the town. She believed in this prophecy ever since, all the while pledging allegiance to Ravenloft as a family tradition, which earned her conflicting powers. On one hand, she could perform miracles and harm with radiance, on the other she received darker powers from her pledge. As such, she is also caught between two fronts — wishing for sunlight to shine upon the lands again while serving Ravenloft as is her family tradition. (This is something my PC challenges her with a lot)
This was all kept secret from her best friend as Fiona had always been a cautious woman. Fast forward to her strained relationship with Lydia that broke apart during Nikolai's early death. 2 years before the campaign starts, he died of an illness, and when Fiona turned to Lydia for comfort she didn't receive it. Lydia pretended like everything was fine still, and tried to deflect any mourning or sadness with Vargas’ messed up ideology. Suffice to say, Fiona felt betrayed, bereft, in more ways than one. And then, her daughter, who was to be betrothed to Viktor Vallakovich, Lydia's son, went mad after prolonged contact to Viktor. Fiona went scorched earth and planned an assassination on Vargas ever since.
In comes my lil guy! Father Kasper Dunant, a humanitarian priest always striving to be virtuous, to be of help, but who leaves calamity in his wake for whenever he tries to do good. Up to a point where experimentations with blood healings destroyed his hometown, (if this sounds like Bloodborne. big inspo haha) and he fled — only to get trapped in another ruinous and cursed place. In Vallaki, he helped with the St. Andral church and Father Lucian, Lydia's brother. Vargas also took a liking to him, which resulted to Kasper and Lydia growing closer. He was attracted to her gentle heart, her kindness he found beyond her facade. They became light in each other's darkness. 
Meanwhile, Fiona Wachter invited him & the party, intrigued by hearing of outsiders. She had hoped they could be part of her prophecy, and she intended to more or less rope them into her assassination plans. Now this being conflicting with many values and relationships our characters built, the party took a "safer" angle, in which we removed the biggest threat (general Strazni) from town and saved townspeople during riots following the assassination; Lydia being among those saved, who they hid away at the Martikov’s tavern. Lydia, who had fallen for Kasper early on, held onto him as she had lost almost everything (Vargas assassinated, Viktor teleported away) and they both found new hope, comfort and love in eath other. 
And in a way, Fiona also freed Lydia of the shackles of her abusive marriage.
Fiona would've taken charge of Vallaki had it not been for Kasper's suggestion to establish a council instead of a single ruler. Consisting of him, Fiona, Vasili (completely different character in our game and not secretly, yknow), a homebrew NPC and Ireena. Fiona and Kasper started to develop this dynamic of push and pull, feeling for how much they can trust and work each other with their opposing views in terms of politics and Ravenloft. But they had one moment where they forged a bond; Kasper, a blood cleric, summoned a mock sun through 'Daylight' for her (my flavor is that he spills blood for some spells). 
Voila, exactly what her prophecy foretold. She understood it wasn't real, but Kasper promised her to bring true sunlight back to Barovia. In a moment of fervor, Fiona suggested they could rule the town, the country together.
They are still very cautious but enjoy the tension and mystery they have about each other. Lydia, in the meantime, has been growing conflicting feelings about Fiona. While she was certain old feelings have been put to rest, the things Kasper tells her of Fiona seemingly awakened something again. There's a lot of guilt and hurt there, though, muddled with affection, and Lydia is sorting out her feelings still.
Meanwhile, Fiona still resents Lydia for her weakness. It was always clear how much Fiona cared for Lydia, repeatedly challenging her to put down this mask, to be herself again. And being hurt by seeing her friend lose herself so easily.  It's bitter, but Kasper has been meekly trying to calm the waves, to little avail so far. 
It is, A Mess to say the least, and Kasper together with Lydia have been growing concerns and worry for Fiona’s safety and ultimately, herself, since she changed so much, became so much darker since her husband’s death. But those two idealists hope there is still a chance to save her 🥺💦
tl;dr young outsider priest becomes entangled in noblewomen’s personal drama while both believe the gods and fate has sent him their way as he tries to mend a broken relationship 
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missblissy · 6 months
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Bitter
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Summary: A little drabble that takes place after the events of the game. In an intimate moment, Astarion has feelings of disgust within himself, and can't help but break down, talking to you about how he feels in his own skin. You stay supportive and help him through it.
Warnings: mentions of sex/domestic trauma, and panic attacks, but no actual smut. :) Only angst. Just angst. :)))
A/N: Hey hey! This is my first Astarion X Reader! I have been sucked in and now I'm just another one of his girlies :') I used a GN!Tav with no mentions of race/class/gender whatsoever. I really wanted to explore Astarion's sexual trauma, how he deals with it, and how he feels about it. I like to think Astarion desperately wants to be whatever he thinks "normal" is, and that he has a lot of shame and pained feelings towards not being able to be whatever this "normal" is. So I wanted to give him some angsty love/hurt and comfort. Enjoy!
Bitter. Like sour brandy. A perpetuating ick that crawled with insect-hooked feet into his skin. The itchy pain of ghostly memories was hot on his flesh. The crawling and coiling were unconditional. The buzzing of past words, actions, and regrets all flooded his mind. His body moved with a mind of its own in a sheer thought of panic. Moving. Repulsed. Unwanted even. But it still happened. Bittering the moment, souring the taste in his mouth, clutching at his undead heart with a rage he didn’t know he had, so soft and subtle that it built like a breeze over the ocean, hitting him like a typhoon. 
But no sign foretold that in the sudden jerk and pull back of his own hand from yours. No longer interlocked. The recoil of his body from instincts rather than thought or sound mind. How he fell away from you, not into you. Both surprised him, his internal rage, and his body betraying him. A breath hitched in his throat as he was pulled back to the dimly lit room of reality.
Where was he again...? His mind was foggy, far way, but yet still brim and bright with paranoia. Flush and festering with one too many distant memories.
“Star-bite?” Your voice was always soothing… Enough to pull him from his mind. The fog far from leaving his eyes traveled with ease across his face in the dark room. No light was needed for you to see that.
The honey worry in your words where enough for his eyes to meet yours despite his shame to look away. It pained him even more with the love welling in those sweet pearls and staring up at him with nothing but patience. Seemingly something he didn’t have. A tender hand lifted to his head, “Are you okay?” You asked. He flinched away. Again. Not even twice now in five minutes. You didn't pull back, however, but rather left your palm open with patience.
Astarion closed his eyes and leaned his cheek into your hand for only a second as he tried to ground himself. Self-hatred bubbled in him. Embarrassment. Shame. It was all the same feeling at this point and it was unbearable.
He sat up and back on his legs, no longer looming over you as the moonlight bathed him in a glow. Glossy with an otherworldly shine you stared up at him, skin exposed to the night. And watched as his shoulders fell with a deep sigh of frustration as he threw his hands to his face as if to hide while shaking his head, “I’m sorry-” He started. You slowly sat up as well, a blanket bathing over your own equally nude body in a half attempt to cover up.
“I’m sorry.” He said it again, “I.. I Don’t know what came over me,” He tried to laugh it off, the fact he blanked out, flinched from your very touch, and found himself disgusted even with the person he loved most. You understood… This was hard for him. Sex. Intimacy. Anything that related to his body. So you so desperately wanted to comfort him.
Which could be a hard thing to do sometimes. Despite that, you tried to reassure him. This wasn't the first time this has happened, “You don’t have to do this, It’s fine-”
“It’s not fine!” Astarion snipped with a whisper that could have been a scream, “I’m… not fine.” 
Bitter. It was always bitter on his tongue even when he laughed like it was as sweet as syrup before it turned into wine, “I don’t want to be… like this,” His voice carried on as he gestured to his entire being, “Every time. Every single time it doesn’t matter how much you love me I still feel disgusted in my own skin and that’s not fine!” He finally snapped out with a subtle sob, “I want to be able to do more than look and love you from an arm’s reach without wanting to burn my bones and erase the memory of everything I’ve ever been through every time I’m simply just touched by another!” 
There wasn’t an easy way to hide the pain on your face. The bitter truth. Even you knew it and it still stung fresher than a wasp’s stinger on a knuckle. No amount of love you gave Astarion could fix the damage done to him over two centuries of torment. No kind words, no simple nothings, or gestures could undo any of it. Nor erase it. Even dead, Cazador would always be with him.
Astarion’s voice picked up, another twisted, sad, and painful laugh, “It sickens me… It kills me,” He sighed, “That even no matter how much I love you, adore you, want you, and need you…” Silver-flowing tears trickled along his cheeks, flicking with faints of pink, betraying his true nature. A vampire’s bloody tears never lied. A sour sniffle sucked back up into his nose as he spoke again, “No matter how much I care I can’t be fixed. I’ll always fucking be like this!” 
He felt so trapped in his own skin. Disgusted with his own body. Hateful towards the person he was forced to become and betrayed by the thought of the person he could have been. It was a bitter cycle. And to think… This all started as a lovely night. But Astarion could just add this to the long list of many other things he’s ruined.
You sat on your knees, scooting just an inch ever so closer, “Astarion?” You held out your hand for him, palm up, open and there for him to take if he wanted. And of course, he did, “You will always be broken.” His eyes shot open and he stared at you, surprised by your honest take, “But you will also always be loved and cared for even if you are broken,” You squeezed his hand lightly and gave a soft smile, “And I don’t mind that you’re broken,”
Something told him you were lying but Astarion knew better than to believe that. It didn’t stop his little scoff as he averted his red gaze, “Even if I can’t fuck you?” Bitter. It was in his voice, the way he spat the words and laughed by adding, “I know I’m supposed to be this amazing, beautiful, and skilled piece of work but I’m no-”
“You’re not supposed to be anything,” You softly interrupted him, knowing exactly where he was about to go with this tangent, “You’re only supposed to be whatever you want to be. Not what others have made you out to be.”  
He still couldn’t meet your gaze, but you could see the doubt in his eyes and the subtle pout of frustration on his lips, “Even if I don’t know what I want to be?” He spoke more softly this time, like it was mostly to himself so he could finally speak it out loud, “... Or who I am?”
“Absolutely,” You promised him. It broke your heart every time he had these moments, how hurt and torn he must feel inside you could only imagine. You leaned a little closer, enough to still give him his space, “I’m not with you for the sex, Astarion, it was never about the sex. So I could go the rest of my life waiting, or not waiting, or simply just being there,” You reached up and cupped his cheek again and pulled ever so gently to get him to meet your gaze, “You… Do. Not… have to have sex with me to keep me to stay with you,” A little glimmer in your eye sparked with affection, "I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it, you are enough just as yourself. And I'll say it forever, I love you for you, and that includes even when stuff like this happens."
That got the littlest smile out of him. He brushed his cheek deeper into your palm and found himself even leaning into your embrace, “You know I want to,” He huffed, “I just don’t think… I can… not without this feeling being there, that is," It was still bitter. He closed his eyes, head resting by your shoulder, nearly hiding in the crook of your neck, “I don’t want to be this way. It’s like I'm not even free. Like my time in the sun was worth nothing in the long wrong,” He quickly looked up at you and corrected himself, “I know that’s not true,” A bitter smile, “It just feels that way, sometimes,” 
Your smile, bitter too, but sweet, with a sad nuzzle of your nose against his in a loving and comforting gesture, “I know, Star-bite,” Then a little kiss to his nose for reassurance, “But this,” And a tight squeeze of his hand, referring to just this simple act alone as you spoke, “You can do. And this is more than enough,”
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doumadono · 6 months
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Warnings: violence, viking!Dabi, viking!Shoto, earl!Endeavor, viking!Hawks, fem!reader, viking themes, seer!Mirko, blood
Summary: the Earl sought counsel from the seer, seeking guidance after Shoto's proposition to send him and Touya on a mission to the north. Concerned about the rumors surrounding the mission, you resolved to extract information directly from Shoto
Word count: circa 6.5k
A/N: if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know ♥
MASTERLIST
PREVIOUS CHAPTER • NEXT CHAPTER
ACT III - SEEKING ANSWERS
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The cold winds of late autumn swept through the rugged hills as earl Endeavor rode toward the dwelling of the renowned seer, Mirko. His thoughts were consumed by the intriguing proposition his youngest son, Shoto, had presented regarding a land rich in goods. The idea of sending his eldest son, Touya, to oversee this promising territory crossed the earl's mind, a strategic move that could secure his settlement's prosperity.
Upon reaching Mirko's abode, the atmosphere seemed to change. The air grew thick with an otherworldly aura, and the eerie silence made the settlement's seer even more intimidating. Mirko was a young woman with a fearsome reputation, her presence alone sending shivers down the spines of those who sought her guidance. Mirko was not beautiful in the conventional sense; her appearance held an unsettling allure. Long, wild locks framed her face, and her eyes, intense and piercing, seemed to hold secrets of both past and future. Tribal markings adorned her skin, marking her as a conduit to the spiritual realm.
Earl Endeavor, a man hardened by battles and strategic decisions, felt a twinge of uncertainty as he approached the seer.
Mirko's dwelling, draped in dark fabrics and adorned with symbols, exuded an aura of mysticism. She welcomed him with a knowing smile, her eyes gleaming with ancient wisdom. "My lord," she spoke, her voice a haunting melody, "what brings you to seek the guidance of the unseen?"
Endeavor hesitated momentarily before speaking. "I come seeking counsel, Mirko. My youngest son has spoken of a land rich in goods. I contemplate sending my eldest, Dabi, to oversee it. What do you foresee in the tapestry of fate?"
Mirko, seated in the midst of her mystical domain, gestured for Endeavor to sit.
Endeavor unfolded his plan, explaining the potential prosperity and influence this land could bring. "I intend to send Dabi to ensure our dominance over this territory. What do your visions reveal?"
The air thickened with an unspoken power, and her haunting hums echoed through the room. The earl observed, a sense of unease settling over him as he witnessed the seer's transformation.
Her eyes closed, Mirko began to sway rhythmically, her body guided by an unseen force. The haunting melody of her hums intensified, creating an otherworldly atmosphere within the sacred space.
Endeavor found himself being on the precipice of something beyond his understanding.
Her voice carried a spectral melody, and the room seemed to pulse with an unseen heartbeat. Mirko's eyes, still closed, painted visions of impending doom with her words.
"In darkness veiled, the land awaits, Echoes of sorrow, at destiny's gates. A wolf, fierce, prowls in the night, A dance with death, a sinister delight."
The seer's hands moved gracefully through the air, as if conducting an unseen symphony of fate. Her words painted vivid images of a land consumed by shadows and the imminent clash between two primal forces.
"An eagle, majestic and bold, Descends from heights, its destiny foretold. A battle fierce, 'neath the moonlit gleam, In shadows cast, where spirits teem."
The eagle and wolf, symbols of opposing forces, danced in the tapestry of Mirko's vision. The room echoed with the weight of her words, each rhyme a forewarning etched in the annals of fate.
"Blood on feathers, and darkness entwined, A struggle unfolds, destinies aligned. In the land cursed, where choices are made, The echo of battle, in shadows will fade."
"What does it mean?!" The earl growled loudly. "Tell me, now!"
As Mirko's body moved, a voice emerged from her lips, yet it seemed detached, as if another entity spoke through her. The words, laden with an eerie resonance, foretold a grim fate awaiting those who ventured into the land Shoto had spoken of. "The path you tread is bathed in blood, earl Endeavor. Death dances upon the horizon, and shadows darker than the night itself await those who dare to grasp the threads of destiny."
Endeavor felt a chill coursing through him. Mirko's words seemed like a macabre prophecy, a dire warning wrapped in a melody that resonated with the spirits of the unseen.
"Blood will stain the soil, and death will be the echo that reverberates through the ages. The spirits speak of a land cursed by the choices of the living," Mirko continued, her voice carrying the weight of the ethereal.
Endeavor, despite his stoic exterior, couldn't shake the disquiet settling in his chest. Mirko, in her trance, spoke as if guided by forces beyond mortal comprehension. The grim portrait she painted clashed with the earl's visions of conquest and prosperity.
As Mirko's humming reached a haunting crescendo, she opened her eyes, the once vacant gaze now piercing through the fabric of fate. The trance lifted, leaving the seer standing before Endeavor, a conduit between the living and the unseen.
"The spirits have spoken, my lord. The path ahead is shrouded in darkness, and the choices you make will echo through the very essence of time," Mirko uttered, her words lingering in the air like an unspoken decree from the spirits themselves.
Endeavor leaned forward, his expression stern. "Speak plainly, Mirko."
Mirko's voice carried a weight beyond the present. "The flames may consume not only the intended but all who stand too close. Choices shape destinies," the woman replied mysteriously.
Endeavor emerged from Mirko's dimly lit hut, the weight of her prophecy hanging in the air like a shroud of uncertainty. The pale light of the moon bathed the settlement nearby in an eerie glow as the earl took a moment to collect his thoughts.
Silence enveloped him, broken only by the distant sounds of the night. Endeavor closed his eyes, reflecting on the words Mirko had spoken. Despite the foreboding visions, a resolute determination burned within him. He knew the risks, but the allure of wealth and power beckoned him forward.
Turning to Mirko, he offered a nod of gratitude. "Thank you for your insights, Mirko. May the spirits guide us through the shadows." As a token of appreciation, Endeavor gently took Mirko's palm in his hands and pressed a grateful kiss upon it.
The seer's eyes, still veiled in the mystery of her visions, met his with a knowing gaze.
Mounting his horse, Endeavor set forth, determined to confront the future that awaited him. The night held its breath as Endeavor rode back to the settlement, a lone figure against the canvas of the darkened landscape. The journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but the ember of ambition burned brightly within him, lighting the path toward the destiny he sought.
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Dabi sat in the dimly lit corner of the tavern, his presence almost like a shadow against the flickering candlelight. The rhythmic sound of a whetstone against his sword filled the air, a comforting repetition that matched the beat of his troubled thoughts.
The raucous atmosphere of the tavern buzzed around him, but the glances thrown his way were not ones of admiration or desire. The courtesans, usually attentive to potential patrons, seemed to cast him disgusted looks. Even though he was the heir to the earldom, the one who would sit on the throne after his father's eventual passing, they all were disgusted by him. His status brought him no favors in this realm of longing and fleeting connections.
Dabi's eyes occasionally flickered across the room, catching those disdainful glares. He couldn't deny the sharp pang in his chest — a mix of frustration and a longing for a connection he had been denied for so long. He had grown accustomed to rejection, so much so that he had stopped actively seeking companionship. Still, the yearning for the warmth and softness of a woman's touch lingered, a desire he had learned to bury deep within.
As he took a swig of ale, the bitter taste seemed to mirror the bitterness that had settled in his heart. Dabi continued to polish his sword, the repetitive motion a way to distract himself from the disapproving looks that haunted him. In the midst of the crowded tavern, he remained a solitary figure, surrounded by people but untouched by the warmth of human connection.
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The loud thud echoed through the quiet walls of the Great Hall, jolting you awake from your shallow slumber. Concern etched across your face as you rushed out of the room you shared with Hilda, following the source of the commotion. The dimly lit corridor led you to Dabi's chamber, where you found him struggling to regain his balance, a victim of the ale's intoxicating effects.
"Easy there," you said, your voice soft but laced with genuine concern. "Need a hand?"
Dabi looked up at you, his turquoise eyes momentarily clouded with confusion before recognition set in. He grunted in agreement, accepting your offered help. Together, you steadied him, and he leaned against the wall for support. The flickering light from the fireplace cast a warm glow on both of you, creating an unexpected intimacy in that late-night encounter.
"Thanks," he mumbled, his usual aloofness momentarily giving way to a hint of vulnerability. The moment was fleeting, but it lingered in the air as you helped him back into his chamber.
You assisted Touya onto his bed. The warmth of the hearth seemed to soften the edges of the usually stern and enigmatic man. However, as you turned to leave, his hand shot out, gently grasping your wrist. When you met his eyes, you were met with a vulnerability that seemed to pierce through his usual façade.
"Stay," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of desperation.
You hesitated. The rules that governed your roles in this Viking settlement were clear, and getting too close to someone of higher standing could invite trouble. Yet, the sadness in his eyes and the unspoken plea tugged at your empathy.
"I… I shouldn't," you started, but he tightened his grip ever so slightly.
"Please," he whispered, his tone a mixture of loneliness and longing.
In that moment, you found it difficult to resist. Against your better judgment, you stayed, settling on a bed beside him. The room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire.
Touya's eyes never left yours.
The room was shrouded in shadows, and the warmth of the fire seemed to cocoon you and Touya in a fragile bubble of shared vulnerability.
With a hesitant yet genuine smile, Touya broke the silence. "Tell me about your homeland," he requested, his eyes showing a glimmer of curiosity.
His request hung in the air like a delicate thread, and you couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh before responding. "You want to hear about the place you tore me away from? Like a flower ripped out of the life-giving soil?" Your words held a weight, a mix of resentment and sorrow.
Touya met your gaze, his expression carrying the burden of understanding the pain he had caused. "Yes," he admitted, his voice low and sincere.
In the flickering glow of the fire, you began to weave a tale of your homeland. Your words painted a vivid picture of quaint cottages with thatched roofs, their walls weathered by the salty breeze that swept in from the sea. The narrow cobblestone streets echoed with the laughter of children playing and the rhythmic sounds of craftsmen honing their skills. "Near the shore, where the cliffs stood tall and proud, we built a small chapel—a haven of solace and prayer. Its stone walls echoed with hymns, and the air was filled with the scent of incense," you recounted, your voice carrying the nostalgia of a place left behind.
As you spoke, Touya's piercing eyes remained fixed on you, absorbing every detail of this distant world he never truly understood. The contrast between the harsh Viking settlements and the idyllic Christian village seemed stark.
"The coastline, painted in hues of blue and gray, witnessed the ebb and flow of tides. Fishing boats set sail at dawn, their sails billowing in the morning breeze, while the cliffs provided a vantage point for the villagers to gaze upon the vast horizon," you continued.
Touya's features softened as he envisioned the serene landscape you described, a world far removed from the tumultuous life he had known. Touya's eyes closed, a faint smile gracing his lips as he absorbed the essence of your words. "You must have been missing the place ever since," he pointed out, the words carrying a gentle understanding of the yearning that comes with reminiscing about a home left behind.
You nodded quietly, the flames of a fireplace reflecting in your eyes. "Indeed. The memories are like whispers of a distant melody, a reminder of a life that once was. I can almost feel the salt-laden wind against my face, hear the distant hymns in the chapel. Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, I close my eyes and pretend I'm back there, surrounded by the familiar comforts of home."
Touya's smile faded, replaced by a somber expression, as the echoes of your quiet sobbing reached his ears. He opened his eyes, and there he found you, tears streaming down your cheeks, your gaze fixated on the dancing flames in the fireplace.
His heart constricted with an unexpected ache. A flicker of empathy illuminated his usually guarded gaze.
"But it is all gone. All gone. You and your people took everything from me. And now I'm here, locked in a cage of a shadow of something once called life. Apparently, this was God's plan for me," your voice carried a weight of bitterness and sorrow.
His gaze softened as he watched you, the firelight casting shadows on your tear-streaked face. "Gods have their own way of weaving destinies, entangling lives in threads that stretch across time and space. Perhaps, just perhaps, there's a reason our paths crossed in this tumultuous journey."
You gave Touya a searching look, the flickering firelight dancing in your eyes, and asked, "What do you mean? Why would the God bring me here, to this… place of captivity?"
Touya looked at you with a glint of intensity in his eyes. "Our gods are different, you know. Freya, Odin, they're not like your Christian God. They're not confined to a single doctrine. They're free, just like the wind that sweeps through these icy lands. And I believe, with all my heart, that the Allfather sent me to your village for a reason, and that reason was you."
You couldn't help but snort at his words. "You're drunk, Touya. Those gods of yours aren't guiding anything. I'm here because of the whims of men, not gods."
Touya locked eyes with you, his gaze intense and filled with unspoken emotions. Slowly, he wrapped his arm around you, drawing you closer until there was barely any space between you. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, "You're beautiful."
His breath sent shivers down your spine, and before you could fully comprehend his words, his lips boldly found yours. Shock coursed through you at the unexpected kiss, your first taste of such intimacy. The heavy scent of alcohol lingered on his tongue, but amidst the surprise, you felt a strange warmth. You hesitated at first, unsure of how to respond, but the gravity of the moment pulled you in.
As the kiss continued, you found yourself brushing your lips against his, a hesitant exploration of uncharted territory. The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, bearing witness to a connection that transcended the roles you were assigned in this harsh world.
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The following day, Endeavor summoned Dabi to his side, his face stern and determined. The air in the room felt heavy with an unspoken gravity as Dabi approached his father. "Touya," Endeavor began, his voice cutting through the silence, "I have a mission for you."
Dabi's eyebrows furrowed in curiosity and apprehension. "What kind of mission?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on Endeavor.
Endeavor's eyes bore into his son's, revealing a mix of authority and expectation. "You, Shoto, and a selected group of warriors, including Hawks, will be sent to the northern part of Sweden. There's a land there with potential, rich in resources. It's time to expand our influence, and you're crucial to this endeavor."
Dabi nodded, acknowledging the weight of the task ahead. The mention of Shoto and Hawks in the same mission stirred a sense of unease, but he kept his emotions in check. "Understood," he replied, his tone resolute.
Endeavor continued to lay out the details of the mission, his plans unfolding as a complex web of politics, power, and strategy.
Little did Dabi know that this journey would lead to unforeseen challenges, testing not only his strength as a warrior but also the bonds that held his family together.
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Hilda approached you with a furrowed brow, a concerned expression etched across her features. The flickering light of the torches in the chamber cast shadows that danced upon the walls as she spoke. "Y/N, I need to talk to you," she said in a hushed tone.
You looked up, sensing the seriousness in her voice. "What is it, Hilda?" you asked, your eyes reflecting a blend of curiosity and apprehension.
She took a moment before responding, choosing her words carefully. "I think I just need a listening ear. Touya is going on another mission. But what worries me more is that Shoto, his younger brother, is being sent alongside him."
You furrowed your brows, recognizing the tension between the two brothers. "Isn't that a cause for concern? They don't exactly get along, do they?"
Hilda nodded solemnly. "No, they don't. The earl's decision to send them together is raising suspicions. It's a risky move, and I fear it might not bode well for the stability of the mission."
Concern etched across your face as you contemplated the potential consequences of such a decision. The dynamics between the two brothers were already strained, and sending them on a mission together seemed like a recipe for conflict. Hilda's worry mirrored your own, and the uncertainty of the future weighed heavily on both your minds.
You finished brushing your hair, the strands flowing smoothly through the comb. The flickering candlelight in your chamber created a soft ambiance, but your thoughts were far from the present moment. Hilda's words echoed in your mind, and the worry for Touya settled like a heavy stone in your chest.
With a heavy sigh, you turned to Hilda, who was quietly arranging some furs in a corner of the room. "Hilda," you began hesitantly, "is there really nothing we can do for Touya? I can't shake off this feeling of unease."
Hilda paused, her gaze meeting yours. The lines on her face spoke of years of experience and wisdom. "Y/N, sometimes the currents of fate are beyond our control. All we can do is navigate the waters as best we can. Right now, the best course is to stay vigilant and hope for the best."
You nodded, understanding the weight of her words. The unpredictable nature of the situation left you feeling powerless, and it frustrated you. "But what if something happens to him? What if Shoto…"
Hilda placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We can't predict the future, dear. All we can do is be prepared for whatever comes our way. Keep an eye on the situation, and if there's an opportunity to help, we'll take it. For now, focus on your tasks and be vigilant."
You sighed, acknowledging the wisdom in her advice.
Hilda observed you with a shrewd gaze, her eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of concern. As you finished your nightly routine and settled onto the furs, she couldn't help but voice the question that lingered in her mind. "Y/N," the woman began, her voice gentle yet probing, "forgive me if I overstep, but your interactions with Touya have been minimal. Why this sudden concern for him?"
You hesitated for a moment, considering your words carefully. The truth was, your initial reservations about Dabi were not baseless, but something about Touya's vulnerability had stirred a different emotion within you. You looked at Hilda, deciding to share a part of your thoughts. "I may not like him, but I can't shake off the feeling that there's more to Touya than what meets the eye. The way he spoke about his past, about losing everything, it resonated with me. It's not pity, Hilda, but a sense of understanding, maybe empathy. And now, knowing he's going on this dangerous mission alongside Shoto, it's hard to ignore the worry."
Hilda's smirk widened as she spoke, her eyes glinting with a mischievous light. "Oh, my dear, I can see your cheeks flushing when you speak about him so fondly. You're having a crush, am I right?"
Hilda's smirk didn't go unnoticed, and you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. Her teasing words struck a nerve, and a flicker of irritation danced in your eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hilda. It's just concern for a fellow human being," you retorted, your tone defensive.
Hilda chuckled softly, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Concern, my dear, often wears a different face. There's no shame in admitting you care for him. After all, this world is full of unexpected twists, isn't it?"
You pursed your lips, attempting to maintain composure. Deep down, you knew there was a kernel of truth in Hilda's words. The concern for Touya had indeed taken a different form, and your heart acknowledged a connection that transcended mere worry. Yet, admitting it to yourself felt like navigating uncharted waters.
Ignoring Hilda's knowing gaze, you turned away, feigning disinterest. But within, a storm of conflicting emotions raged, and you couldn't deny the impact Touya had made on your guarded heart.
As the night wore on, sleep eluded you. Tossing and turning in your simple bed, a peculiar yet potentially useful idea began to form in your mind. The notion of extracting information from Shoto about his plans took root, and you found yourself contemplating the details of how to execute this risky but potentially advantageous scheme.
The flickering light of the dim chamber barely illuminated your face as you hatched a plan to subtly and strategically approach Shoto. The urgency of the situation and the looming mission compelled you to consider taking matters into your own hands, even if it meant navigating the treacherous waters of deceit. With a determined resolve, you prepared yourself mentally for the intricate dance of conversation that lay ahead.
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In your best dress, adorned with the finest that could be salvaged among the thralls, you made your way to the tavern after learning from Natsuo that Shoto was seen going out with a warrior named Hawks. As you stepped out, the cool breeze of the late afternoon caressed your face, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within you.
Arriving at the tavern, you could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking mugs seeping through the wooden door. Taking a deep breath, you pushed it open, revealing the warm, dimly lit interior. The air was thick with the scent of ale and the low hum of conversations. You scanned the room, finally spotting Shoto and Hawks in a corner, engaged in a conversation.
Shoto's two-colored hair caught the wavering light as he raised his tankard in a toast. "To power and the thrill of the hunt," he declared with a smirk, taking a long swig.
Hawks leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes.
The duo seemed engrossed in conversation, their laughter mingling with the low hum of the tavern. Female thralls, drawn by their presence, attempted to engage in conversation, but the exchanges were marked by a darkness that hinted at their underlying intentions. Shoto and Hawks were having fun in the company of two thralls with exotic features that hinted at a southern origin. The air was charged with an unmistakable tension as the men engaged in flirtatious banter.
One of the thralls, feigning coyness, asked, "What brings you to our humble company tonight?"
Shoto, with a sly grin, leaned in to the thrall seated by his side, and said, "Oh, just the usual – seeking a bit of warmth in this frigid place. Perhaps you ladies could provide some, hmmm?" He mused, running his hand up and down the girl's shoulder.
The other thrall, playing along, responded, "Warmth, you say? Well, you might need to work hard to earn that from us."
Shoto frowned a little, yet his voice stayed low and smooth, "You seem to be unaware of my position, woman. I am the heir to earl Endeavor, and I demand that you address me with the respect befitting my status," he forcefully grabbed the other woman by her shoulder, causing her to tumble off her chair and land on the floor next to him. "So, I suggest you watch your manners, for I am the best you can find in this establishment. Consider your words carefully before opening that foolish mouth of yours next time."
Hawks nodded in agreement, "Indeed, the gentleman here is right. Shoto, don't scare the lady."
The conversations continued in this bold and wry manner, each word dripping with innuendo as the men skillfully navigated the delicate dance of desire. The atmosphere in the tavern buzzed with anticipation as the thralls played their part in the seductive exchange, the one that previously ended on the floor now sat quietly, letting Hawks wrap his strong arms around her shoulders as his hand was playing with her breasts from time to time.
Summoning your courage, you approached them, the rhythmic thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. As you drew nearer, you caught Shoto's eye, and a subtle smirk crept onto his face. Hawks, on the other hand, eyed you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. The atmosphere shifted as you prepared to enter a world of alliances and secrets, uncertain of what the outcome might be.
"Well, well, what brings you to this den of sin all alone? Where's your precious Touya? Couldn't keep up with his demands?" the youngest Endeavorson taunted, his tone laced with amusement.
You brushed off his wry remark. "I think it's time for us to bury the hatchet. Our relationship didn't start on the best note, and I believe we can find a way to coexist peacefully."
He looked at you, seemingly surprised by your suggestion. Shoto considered your words, and after a moment, he offered you a seat with them.
Throughout the interaction, Hawks observed the scene. You gave him a brief smile, trying to maintain a cool demeanor in the company of the two men.
Shoto turned to you with an air of faux politeness, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I believe we can have a civilized conversation, don't you?" His eyes darted towards the thrall who had been seated beside him, and with a dismissive gesture, he uttered, "You, leave us."
The thrall shot you a cold glance before complying with Shoto's request and vacating the space.
Now alone, Shoto leaned back in his chair, a smug smirk playing on his lips. "There, much better. Now, let's chat, shall we?"
You took a deep breath before speaking, "I must admit, despite the fear you instill within me, there's a certain charisma about you. It's hard not to notice."
Shoto's grin widened, appreciating the acknowledgment. "Well, I appreciate your honesty. And by the way, I quite like your accent. It adds a certain charm." His compliment was laced with a hint of mischief as he reached his hand out to briefly rub your shoulder.
You felt a shiver run down your spine as Shoto's hand landed on your shoulder. Suppressing a wince, you decided to play along with his casual demeanor. When he asked about the real reason for your visit, you hesitated for a moment before responding, "Well, I just wanted to get to know you a little better, my lord."
Shoto raised an eyebrow, considering your words. "Interesting choice of words. Here, have some mead." He poured some into a wooden mug and handed it to you, a sly smile playing on his lips.
You accepted, trying to keep your nerves at bay.
Hawks, with a twinkle in his golden eyes, couldn't help but comment, "Quite a beauty you have here, Shoto. Earl Endeavor's thralls are indeed a treasure."
Shoto, taking a sip of his mead, glanced at you and replied wryly, "All Christian women have this softness within them. I just happen to enjoy breaking it." His words were delivered with a certain darkness that sent a chill down your spine.
Trying to maintain composure, you played along, responding with a forced smile, as you looked at Shoto's companion, "Well, thank you for the compliment, sir."
As Shoto continued to drink, you couldn't shake off the unease that settled in the pit of your stomach.
As more mugs of mead were emptied by the men and the atmosphere in the tavern grew warmer, you mustered the courage to bring up the topic that had been gnawing at your thoughts. Leaning in, you addressed Shoto, "Forgive me for intruding, but I overheard that you and Touya are going on a mission. Is it true?"
Shoto's eyes, a mix of icy determination and something unreadable, met yours. He took a moment, swirling the remnants of his mead in his mug before responding, "Yes, a mission to the north. Father believes it's a land rich in resources, and he wants us to secure it for the settlement."
Hawks, who had been listening attentively, chimed in, "Aye, a mission of great importance. The north can be treacherous, though. Many dangers await those who venture into the unknown."
You nodded, though a lingering concern for Touya flickered in your eyes. "What kind of dangers are you talking about? Is it just the harsh conditions of the north, or is there something else we should be aware of?"
Shoto's stoic expression betrayed little, leaving you to wonder about the true nature of the mission and what it might mean for both brothers.
Hawks took a sip from his mead, his golden eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and wariness. "The north is a wild place, full of untamed landscapes and creatures. Wolves, bears, and more roam freely. Not to mention, the weather can be brutal, especially this time of year."
Shoto's gaze never wavered as he observed your reaction to Hawks' nonchalant explanation.
You sensed there might be more to the story, but both men remained guarded in their responses.
Shoto's sudden shift in demeanor caught you off guard, his hand landing on your knee with an unexpected boldness. He began to rub your knee casually, his gaze steady as he threw a question your way. "Let's change the topic, my dear. The ruggedness of our upcoming mission might be a bit too much for a delicate female mind like yours to comprehend," he remarked, his fingers tracing small circles on your knee, playing with the hems of your dress. Then, with a smirk, he leaned in, his tone low and almost conspiratorial. "Tell me, has my older brother had his way with you yet?"
You felt a mix of discomfort and annoyance at his audacity, but you tried to maintain composure. "That's none of your business, Shoto," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "And the mission—"
"Oh, don't play coy," he interrupted, his lips curling into a smirk. "I'm genuinely curious. After all, I'd hate for you to miss out on experiencing the full range of pleasures in our little settlement."
The situation had taken an unexpected turn, and you found yourself navigating the conversation with a mix of caution and defiance, unsure of where Shoto was leading with his intrusive inquiries.
You met Shoto's audacious question with a bold response. "No, my lord, I haven't been with anyone, ever," you asserted, trying to maintain a sense of control in the conversation.
Hawks chimed in with a cryptic comment, "Well, isn't that a rare treasure in these parts. A thrall with untouched cunny, how intriguing."
You shot a wary glance at Hawks, uncertain about the implications of his words.
Shoto, however, seemed more amused than surprised, his smirk widening as if he had expected such a revelation. "You're missing out on experiences, thrall. I could show you what it's like. I doubt my older brother knows how to please a woman. Look at him, covered in scars, a truly disgusting sight. No normal woman would willingly lie with such a damaged man."
You felt Shoto's hand sliding beneath the fabric of your dress, making your breath catch in your throat. His audacious suggestion hung in the air, and the atmosphere became charged with tension.
You pulled away, a mix of surprise and discomfort evident on your face. "Maybe… Nut I didn't have enough mead yet, my lord," you asserted, trying to maintain a semblance of control over the situation.
Shoto, undeterred, leaned in with a sly grin. "Afraid of a little adventure? I promise you, it'll be an experience you won't forget," he whispered, his mismatched eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity.
As Shoto poured another mug of mead for you, you discreetly took small sips, ensuring that the majority of the liquid found its way into Hawks' cup while the two men were engrossed in conversation. The effects of the mead were beginning to show on Shoto, but you remained clear-headed.
The conversation in the tavern continued, filled with laughter and raucous chatter. You observed Shoto's growing inebriation and wondered if this was the opportune moment to extract information about the mission.
As Shoto, in a visibly inebriated state, decided to make his way back to the Great Hall, Hawks was more than willing to accompany him. However, seizing the opportunity to gather more information, you stepped forward and offered to walk Shoto back on his behalf. Hawks, busy with the two other thralls he managed to lure, readily agreed.
With Shoto leaning on you for support, you began the journey back to the Great Hall. The night air was crisp, and the sound of distant revelry echoed through the settlement. As you walked, you subtly steered the conversation toward the mission, aiming to extract any valuable details Shoto might unwittingly reveal in his inebriated state. As Shoto stumbled beside you, you ventured to ask, "Shoto, why do you harbor such resentment toward Touya? It seems like there's a lot of tension between you two."
Shoto's response was punctuated by occasional hiccups, and he spoke with a slurred cadence, "Touya… he's always been the favorite. Father sees him as the rightful heir, even after he attempted on killing him… When he was a baby… I'm just… the spare. I've had to fight for every scrap of approval, every shred of acknowledgment. It's fucking infuriating."
His words were tinged with a mix of bitterness and vulnerability, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was more beneath the surface of their strained relationship.
Shoto's alcohol-laden breath hung in the night air as he delved deeper into the caverns of his animosity. His words spilled out, laced with venom and a fervent desire for retribution. "You see, Y/N… Touya has always been the golden child… Father dotes on him, oblivious to the struggles I faced. I fought tooth and nail, but in his eyes, I'm still the disappointment." His voice resonated with a toxic blend of envy and resentment. "I wish he'd disappear, fade away… It would be so much easier without him overshadowing me at every turn… Fucking Touya. Father might finally see my worth."
As he spoke, you couldn't help but sense the profound wounds that fueled Shoto's disdain for his older brother, wondering if there was any way to mend the frayed bonds between them.
With a heavy sigh, you opened the huge, wooden door to the Great Hall. In the dimly lit hallway, you guided Shoto with careful steps, avoiding any unnecessary noise. As you reached his chamber, the weight of your question hung in the air, and you couldn't help but ask, "My lord… Do you plan to harm your older brother during this mission?"
He paused, his drunken demeanor momentarily overshadowed by a serious glint in his eyes. "Hurt him? No. But if fate has other plans for him, who am I to intervene?"
You hesitated for a moment, unsure if Shoto's words held any truth or if they were merely intoxicated ramblings. As you opened the door and let go of his waist, you couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that there was more beneath the surface of his seemingly casual response. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across his face, adding an enigmatic air to the entire exchange.
The sudden force of Shoto's grip on your waist surprised you, and before you could react, his lips collided with yours in a messy, drunken kiss. The taste of mead lingered on his breath, making the encounter less pleasant than you might have imagined. You winced, feeling a mix of discomfort and confusion as the moment unfolded.
Shoto's hand slipped beneath your dress and moved up your leg, resting between your thighs. As he pulled away, his eyes were glazed, and he chuckled under his breath, resting his back against the wooden wall. "You're an interesting one, Y/N," he slurred, releasing his hold on you and stumbling into his chamber. "I'll make sure you're mine, not his." The door closed behind him, leaving you standing in the hallway, processing the unexpected exchange with your palm pressed against your mouth.
As you turned around, your heart sank, its rhythm momentarily disrupted - there, in the corridor, stood Touya. His expression held a mixture of surprise and shock as he observed you, and an unspoken tension hung in the air.
Touya's harsh words hung in the air, stinging like a bitter truth. "I can't believe you're like that, Y/N, letting my brother touch you this way. I thought you were different, not like every other thrall, but I guess I was wrong."
A lump formed in your throat as you desperately wanted to explain, to make him understand, but before you could utter a single word, Touya turned on his heel and left, the resounding crash of the door slamming shut echoing through the dimly lit corridor.
Now, you found yourself standing alone, the weight of his accusations settling in. The corridor seemed colder, lonelier in the aftermath of his anger. You replayed the scene in your mind, the hurt etched on Touya's face, the disappointment in his voice. It was a bitter cocktail of emotions that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable.
The truth was, you never intended to betray or hurt Touya. You considered chasing after him, explaining that it wasn't as it seemed, that your intentions were never to betray him. But the finality of that slamming door weighed heavily on your shoulders.
A lone tear traced the contours of your cheek, a delicate testament to the waning emotions within. It was as if you had relinquished something profoundly vital, a precious fragment of your life slipping away, leaving behind a poignant void.
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heathen wolves: @indignant-alpaca @misafiryanki @roast-toast @within-eyesight @crystalwolfblog @haseki-huricihan @violet-forgetmenot
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majosullivan · 5 months
Text
Castle Swimmer Dashboard Simulator
🪸 classycoral Follow
If there’s one thing that I’ve learnt while traveling the sea, it’s that prophecies can really range from being the silliest of tales to the most horrific things you will ever of having the dismay of laying your eyes on
🪸 classycoral Follow
Like I’ll visit one castle and their prophecy will be ‘It’s been destined that the beacon will use this frog to predict the future so we can prepare for it :)’ and then the next castle I visit will have a prophecy like ‘It is been foretold from centuries past that the beacon shall arrive and save us from a plague that has been taunting us since ancient time. Through sacrifical ritual, they shall free us from this torment’
#like who is coming up with these #are you guys doing okay???
154,879 notes
💧 oceaneyes Follow
I heard there’s hot singles at the bottom of the God Mouth
⚜️ minigod-fucker Follow
out of the way boys I’m about to GET IT
⚜️ minigod-fucker Follow
got trapped in unending darkness surrounded by voices
9,264 notes
🪷 through-the-reef Follow
I’m currently traveling through the Purple Peaks and it’s absolutely gorgeous here! I have no idea why there seems to be so few people living here, it seems wonderful!
🪷 through-the-reef Follow
GIANT CRAB, GIANT CRAB, GIANT CRAB-
13,521 notes
✨ give-that-axolotl-a-knife Follow
Does anyone else feel like the surface god is just toying with you how they please. They think they’re so funny. Well I’m about to be hilarious
🎼 beautifulabyss Follow
this feels so threatening, are you doing okay op?
24,957 notes
🌊 squids Follow
Being alive is so wonderful because there is so many beautiful places in the ocean you can explore and so many fascinating creatures you can see. However there are also the unending horrors
6,496 notes
🖼️ ocean-landscapes Follow
The Blue Hills
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832 notes
💰 needling-on Follow
GUYS I MIGHT BE GOING INSANE BUT I’M CURRENTLY OUTSIDE TRAINING AND I SWEAR I JUST SAW ONE OF THE RULERS AT MY CASTLE GO FLYING OUT THE CASTLE WINDOW
💰 needling-on Follow
NOT INSANE, A GROUP OF HIS PEOPLE JUST CAME SWIMMING OUT CALLING AFTER HIM, OH MY GOD I CAN’T BREATH
💰 needling-on Follow
UPDATE: THEY’RE COMING BACK WITH HIM NOW AND HE MUST HAVE FALLEN INTO A SCHOOL OF PRETTY VICIOUS FISH CAUSE HE’S COVERED IN BITE MARKS AND THERE’S STILL ONE BITING HIM. I FEEL LIKE I’M GOING TO CRACK A RIB
284,047 notes
♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow
Alright guys which mini god from the ones y’all know about do you think you could take
♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow
IN A FIGHT IN A FIGHT IN A FIGHT
♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow
Blocked blocked blocked. None of you are seeing the light of the surface
69,638 notes
🌺 lesbiankelp Follow
Life is so fucking unfair cause kelp dragons are SO beautiful and magnificent and enchanting and I would do ANYTHING to get up close to or even pet one, but the moment one would see me they would immediately try to swallow me whole like a shrimp
#they’re so pretty and for what #AND FOR WHAT?! #I just want to give them a little kiss on top of your head… #is that too much to ask?
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🔱 poisedposeidon Follow
THE BEACON IS TWENTY???
🔱 poisedposeidon Follow
THEY SHOULD BE AT THE CLUB…
💧 oceanxeyes Follow
h
HUH?
🎼 beautifulabyss Follow
I’m sorry, the beacon is WHAT?
🫧 bubbly-bubbles Follow
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🪸 classycoral Follow
No because like my castle’s prophecy is nearing 200 years old and I’ve met a ton of people whose prophecies are over twice that age. How in the name of the Surface God are they only 20?
🌱 seaweed-brains Follow
Okay this post just unlocked some long dormant memories in my brain and if I don’t talk about it with someone outside my castle I think I’ll lose my mind so you guys better be sitting down.
For some context: until around 7-8 years ago, my people were under almost constant threat of these giant sea snakes because they had unknowingly killed the head of their den. Savage things. Would take any opportunity to attack us. We couldn’t even find a new castle cause they would follow us everywhere. Because of all this, our elders ended up creating a prophecy, which stated that the Beacon would eat the carcass of the head snake, causing the rest of the sea snakes to leave us alone.
So when I was like 13, the Beacon had arrived at our castle to fulfil our prophecy, and as you can expect, we were all very excited and I remember trying to get to the front of the crowd as fast as possible to see them. They were like nothing I have ever seen before and have seen since, we all were in complete awe of them. However, the thing about them that ended up surprising me the most was that they were young. Like, pretty damn young. They looked a little younger than me. So while our monarch quickly went to make sure all the preparations were complete, they entrusted my parents with making sure the Beacon was comfortable, giving my family the opportunity to have small chat with them. Curiousity getting the better of me, I asked how old they were. 13. They said they’re 13 years old. They were MY age. I didn’t know what to do at that point and basically throughout the entire time our prophecy was being completed, my mind was just stuck thinking about if I was destined to eat that giant smelly snake
🔱 poisedposeidon Follow
Ex
EX-FUCKING-CUSE ME???
🎼 beautifulabyss Follow
WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT
♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow
I need a whole day to fully process that prophecy alone what in the actual fuck
🌺 lesbiankelp Follow
Did…
…did they eat the snake carcass?
🌱 seaweed-brains Follow
THE WHOLE THING…
🫧 bubbly-bubbles Follow
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🪸 classycoral Follow
and people still think I was exaggerating about how wild prophecies are. How in the entire sea does being attacked by sea snakes lead to the Beacon needing to eat a giant carcass? Who is coming up with these solutions? Show me their workings
💧 oceanxeyes Follow
The Beacon arriving at another castle to help people fulfil their prophecy, only to find that it’s another one written by freaks:
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🐚 sandyshells Follow
t
th
…the beacon is real?
🔱 poisedposeidon Follow
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🌺 lesbiankelp Follow
HELLO?
🌫️ surface-and-beyond Follow
Sandy get back here right now what do u MEAN you didn’t know the Beacon was real???
🐚 sandyshells Follow
MY PEOPLE HAVE ALWAYS SAID THE BEACON WAS JUST PART OF ANCIENT MYTHOLOGY…we were always told growing up that prophecies and the lot were just stories and such. You’re telling me that there’s actually a divine being going around helping people by eating snakes and stuff???
🌫️ surface-and-beyond Follow
Y E A H
🐚 sandyshells Follow
WHAT THE HELL
♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow
This whole post is a mess holy shit
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abiimaryy · 7 months
Text
I sat and transcribed the Workin’ Boys programme as Matt Lang intended
Zoey Chambers (Henrietta) is humbled beyond words to be a part of this groundbreaking production. Zoey has been entrancing audiences for years with her portrayal of badass girl-bosses like Sandy from Grease and Fantine form Les Miserables. Zoey would like to thank her brother, Zack, for giving her the acting bug all the way back in the third grade! It’s ironic that Zack thought he was the actor of the family but Zoey would go on to completely overshadow him in every way. Sucks to suck doesn’t it Zachary? Zoey would also like to thank her roommate and fellow cast member, Hailey! Hailey is perfectly cast in her very small and inconsequential part. The role of Marge is just so uniteresting and one dimesntional that it helps mask Hailey’s limited range as an actress, as well as other flaws, such as not being pretty enough to pull off an ingenue. Enjoy show and ||be sure to check out Zoey’s Only Fans for spicy pics, JOIs and other lewd content.
Hailey Dilmore (Marge) is so lucky to be part of the best cast in the world! She has no idea how she managed to worm her way into this talented group of ladies! You may recognised Hailey as Pink Lady from Grease of Disciple #3 from Godspell! Hailey would like to thank her fellow cast member, Zoey Chambers. Zoey has been an inspiration, a mentor, and above all, a friend. She’d also like to thank her parents and her dog, Walter. Also she’d like to apologize to the cast once again for blowing up the bathroom every single day during rehearsal. She’s so sorry she made it stink so bad that everybody had to cross the street to use the toilet in the Bank of America. She really doesn’t know what’s happening to her bowels. She’s going to the doctors after the show closes to get everything sorted out. Enjoy the show!
Ruth Fleming (Secretary #4) is so fucking stoked for her acting debut! This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me I mean, her. Ruth ran the lights for her school’s shitty production of The Barbecue Monologues and was also the Assistant Stage Manager for The Wizard of Oz… it sucked. She got bulled and excluded by the whole cast, even thought her job was just as important as theirs. More important actually! Being in the cast is way better! You don’t have to think of an excuse to barge into the dressing room. You can just walk right in! Everyoby takes off their shirts and lets their titties tumble free! It’s the most awesome thing I’ve ever seen… I mean she’s ever seen. Anyways, Ruth doesn’t wanna thank anybody because nobody ever did anything for her.
Cassandra King (Eve) is elated to be present with you fellow vessels in these freeing moments. Everything has transpired exactly as the light in the sky foretold. Cassie has never been a believer in prophecy or the eternal spaces between… but she’s seen too much to deny their truth now. She no longer fears the visions or the pain that comes with their descent. Pain is the price of knowledge. Pain is the language that unites the children of Azzokish no matter which star they may hail from. Cassie wants to see what lies at the end of the cold half. She’s ready to see the face of the girl screaming in the dark. How did she find herself aboard? And what is the destination of such a significant ship? Is tonight the night Cassie departs? The lights do give no answer. And so she waits for deliverance. Cassie would also like to thank her boyfriend, Chris.
(Note: the spelling of Azzokish could be wrong it was blurry as hell)
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Text
Happy Birthday
Shimura Tenko x fem!reader
Navi.
Notes: My dream Birthday I´m not even kidding
Autumn Event
Warnings: smut, mdni, modern au-ish?, fluff, aftercare, spit (incl. he spits in your mouth), reader has long(er) hair, he carries reader, lots of cute petnames (incl. "pretty slut" and variations), reader wears a dress, pretty cute and domestic overall, he overstimulates himself
Wordcount: 2k+
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“I wanna sit on your lap.” It was a statement, rather than a request and he had to suppress the smile threatening to break out on his lips.
“Yeah? Is my pretty girl feeling needy?” he asked, extending an arm to pull you closer. You gasped but climbed on his lap nonetheless.
“Hey, it´s my birthday, you know? Shouldn´t you give me like…princess treatment or something?”
Tenko snorted as he helped you get comfortable. Carefully, he rested his chin on your shoulder and grabbed his mouse again.
“I always give you princess treatment.” The sensation of his breath against your neck made you shiver, and you could see him grin in the reflection of his computer.
You stuck out your tongue but cuddled deeper into him regardless. He couldn´t help but smile softly and pressed a kiss to your head. After holding you tightly for a moment, he focused back on his game.
“Wait. Is that my account?” you said, suddenly.
Tenko grinned.
“You hate exploring, so I thought I´d max out everything for you.”
You jerked around, eyes widened in surprise.
“Wait really?” you gasped. He nodded, already knowing you´d bless him by throwing your entire body into his arms.
“It´s really easy to make you happy, you know?” he murmured against your hair while you pressed your face into his chest.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so much!”
“Love you too, princess, now let me do my thing yeah?” he gently moved your body again so he could comfortably look over your shoulder and continue playing.
“Hmm.” You nuzzled deeper into him. “Wait, oh my god how did you do that?”
He snorted.
“Sounds like a skill issue on your part, baby.”
You gasped.
“How dare you! I will have you know, I´m a God at this game.”
“With an HP sands and goblet on your Wanderer?” he grinned down at your scowling form.
“Well, at least the crit stats look nice,” you pouted.
“I know, baby,” he cooed at you and kissed your temple. “At least you´re good at other things,” he mumbled.
“What? Tenko!”
He laughed.
“C´mon baby, what would I do without you in my life, hm?”
You grew soft.
“And?”
“Hm?”
“What would you do without me?”
He leaned back to look at you properly, hand finding your chin to tilt your face upwards.
“Playing video games and working and nothing more.”
You furrowed your brows.
“What? It´s all I did before you too.” a breathy chuckle escaped him. “What about you then?”
“I ask the question here!”
“Right, my bad, princess,” he teased and kissed the tip of your nose, barely pulling back after.
“Well lucky for you I don´t intend on leaving,” you grinned. “You´re stuck with me.”
He hummed, lips brushing yours. “Marriage and all?”
You giggled. “Yeah, marriage and all.”
“You´re so cute baby,” he murmured and kissed you again. “So fucking cute.”
He moved you to face him and gripped your waist to pull you flush against him so he could deepen the kiss. A mewl escaped your lips. You could feel him twitch against your core at the soft sound.
Gently, you ground your hips against his growing member, drawing a groan from his lips. His hands tightened around your waist, dragging your core against his body to drive you both toward an orgasm. You moaned against his mouth.
“Fuck,” he murmured, barely pulling away, too drunk on the taste of your lips. Abruptly, he picked you up and brought you to his bed – practically collapsing over your form. One of his arms was propped up right next to your head, fingers playing with your hair. His other hand made sure you couldn´t move away from his kiss.
You couldn´t help but mewl, silently begging him to come even closer, even tugging at his hoody. He grunted, settling down until he lay on top of you, hands cradling your face and hips slowly grounding against yours.
“Lemme eat you out, baby, yeah?” he rasped against your lips, but you couldn´t answer, breath completely stolen away. He rested his cheek against yours, watching you patiently until you had caught your breath again.
“Please, Tenko.”
He moaned at the sound of your broken voice and moved down your body, his hands squeezing and groping at your sides as he did so until he came face to face with your clothed pussy.
“Shit, baby, you smell so fucking good.”
Impatiently, he slipped off your panties for you and flipped up your skirt. He took another moment to breathe in your familar smell only to dive mouth-first into your pussy, spreading your outer lips to give his tongue space to lap at your clit. One of his hands held you down by your hips, the other trailed down your inner thigh. He briefly pulled back to wet some fingers with his tongue, but was back on you in a second, easing one of the digits into your pulsing core.
“Fuck, baby, you´re so good, take off your dress for me, yeah? Wanna see you completely,” he grunted, rutting his hips against the mattress at the sinful sounds you let out through your parted lips. You did as you were told, hands trembling and legs shaking at the pleasure coursing through you.
Soon he had you arching your back and pressing your pussy against him more while he sped up the licking and sucking at your clit, even pushing in a second finger to drive you ever closer to your orgasm.
You came against his tongue hard and he moaned at the feeling of you spasming around his fingers.
“Baby, fuuuck, you´re so good, gotta let me do that shit more often, yeah?” he groaned, slowly pulling out of you to push himself up on his hands, grinning down at you with cum smeared across his mouth. He leaned forward to kiss you and you both moaned at your taste now drenching both of your lips. “Tastes so good, doesn´t she?” he rasped and you nodded dumbly. “C´mon baby, say it,” he tapped your cheek expectingly.
“Tastes so good,” you softly repeated, still coming down from your high.
“That´s my pretty girl,” he groaned and captured your lips in another kiss. “Gonna fuck you now, okay?”
You could only muster a helpless nod accompanied by a whine and he smiled fondly at you.
“Prettiest fucking girl,” he praised you again, before pecking your lips once more.
With two fingers he spread your pussy to properly line himself up with your hole.
He eased into you, letting out a low groan against your lips.
“F – Fuck princess, why – ngh – how do you always feel this good?”
A soft mewl left your lips when he had filled you up completely, grabbing at him, disoriented, to press a wet kiss to his cheek.
“Tenko,” you whimpered.
He moaned at the messy sight in front of him. Your hair chaotically strewn over the pillow, your eyes pleading and glassy fixated on him and a cute little pout on your lips. He snapped his hips against yours and your back arched at the feeling. Quickly, his arms circled your waist.
“Fuuuck,” he groaned, setting a rapid rhythm, hands groping and tugging at your skin to have you even closer to him. His strokes were deep, his heavy cock sliding in and out of you so nicely. His lips found yours again, spit spread across your mouth with his eager tongue while he rutted into you.
One of his hands reached down to play with your clit, stroking her in tandem with his heavy thrusts into you.
“Heh.” He grinned at you, eyes lidded, watching your face contort into one of pleasure. “You cumming, baby?”
You nodded wildly, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hung open – just so perfect for him to spit into. “Uhu.”
“Uhu?” he mocked, the hand on your hips tightened its grip so he could drive even harder into you. “My little princess slut is cumming?” One more tug of his fingers on your clit and your body tensed in his hold. A boastful laugh escaped him, though it was cut short by the wild clenching of your pussy that made him topple over your body, his face tucked into the crook of your neck and a loud groan escaping him. The speed of his thrusts decreased, driving into you slow but hard as he came.
“Mmh,” you mumbled, nuzzling deeper into his embrace, but all of a sudden, he picked up speed again. A surprised cry escaped you and your arms quickly found purchase around his shoulders. He moved so fast, holding you tightly and grunting against the skin of your neck. He couldn´t speak, just chasing the pleasure he felt when you spasmed around him, completely drunk on the feeling.
His cock was aching, but his mind was empty, set only on feeling you twitch around him again.
Moans and whimpers left your mouth, your body rocking against his from the way he harshly thrust into you. After a while he sped up even more and his grunts became louder. His left hand found the side of your cheek, shaky hand caressing your skin. It slowly travelled downwards, leaving goosebumps in its wake all over your body, until it pinched at your clit to make you crash head-first into your second orgasm.
He followed suit, body collapsing on top of yours, still rutting erratically into you until his thrusts turned sluggish and then, finally, stopped.
A long moan escaped him, his mouth, open, pressed against your neck.
You stayed entangled like this for a little bit as you attempted to catch your breaths. Once he had caught his breath again, he pressed several sloppy kisses against your skin and up your jaw. Slowly, he pulled away from your face and propped himself up on his arms to look at your tired-out form. He grinned at you blearily blinking up at him – lips swollen and breath still erratic.
“Fuck, you look so messy, princess,” he murmured, fingers brushing away some spit next to your mouth.
You whimpered.
“Mmh?”
“Kiss me. Please.”
His eyes widened, but a moment later a soft smile graced his mouth and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your parted lips. Then another. And another until he peppered your face with kisses and he held your giggling form in his embrace. His eyes crinkled at the sight.
“Wanna make out,” you whispered against his mouth, and he hummed.
"Just for a second though, gotta clean you up, baby.”
He moved his lips slowly against yours, fingers brushing lightly against your skin. Suddenly, he sat up, arms securely around you to carry your body with him and place you on his lap – his lips never leaving yours as they moved in tandem. His hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing over your skin.
He pulled back way too soon for your taste. Smiling fondly, he watched how your eyes fluttered open and a pout formed on your lips. “C´mon baby, I´ll carry you to the bathroom.”
He helped you to the toilet and held you steadily when he lead you to the shower afterwards, turning it on for you both. As the warm water finally soothed your skin, he ran his fingers through your hair while you hid your face in his shoulder.
“You okay, baby?”
You mumbled unintelligibly and nuzzled deeper into his embrace.
“You wanna watch something and cuddle a little bit before going to sleep?”
He received a nod from you and smiled, gently patting your head. After a minute of just holding you close to him, he loosened the grip you had on him so he could pull away to wash the sweat and cum off of you.
You trembled once he brushed against your clit and whined, but he simply let out a chuckle as he straightened his back again. For a moment, he just looked at you, holding your face in his hand, only to swiftly pick you up again, laughing at your surprised shriek and carried you out of the shower.
Not too long after, you laid against Tenko´s chest, absentmindedly playing with the string of his hoody. His left arm held you tightly around your stomach and in his free hand he held the remote in order to turn on the tv. A familiar intro music started playing.
However, you couldn´t help but look up at him instead, smiling wide. He mirrored your smile and let his left hand lightly trail up and down your neck. Then, he leaned down to kiss you.
“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.
He hummed, thumb brushing away hair from your face.
“I love you too, princess.”
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lucyav13 · 14 days
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Mr. L
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He is a major antagonist and eventually becomes the game's final boss, Super Dimentio by fusing with Dimentio and the Chaos Heart. Before turning evil, Luigi tries to stop Count Bleck from using the Chaos Heart; however, after being trapped in Castle Bleck, Luigi gets brainwashed by Nastasia, ultimately turning him into Mr. L.
Mr. L is very cocky and is always praising up himself, a stark contrast to the chicken-hearted, reluctantly brave Luigi. He thinks highly of himself and is not slow to reveal it, often trying to openly annoy other in-game characters. He has a belief in his often-boasted-of abilities, as he is very shocked at his failures as their series begins. He is very daring, and as such reveals an attraction to Princess Peach and jealousy of Mario's jumping ability. (But if he jumps better than Mario)
Mr. L has two catchphrases: "L-ater," which he continuously proclaims when exiting , and "Have at you!", his battle cry.
He also has a knack for nicknaming, referring to Mario as "Mr. Jumpsallthetime," Peach as "Ms. Alwaysgetskidnapped," or Bowser as "Mr. Getsfoiledallthetimebytheredguywiththemoustache" during their first confrontation; this may imply that he still retains some of his memory from when he was Luigi, as he subconsciously recognizes who Mario, Peach, and Bowser are. He also nicknames himself "the Green Thunder".
However, Mr. L has some skills that Luigi does not, or merely has not yet shown, namely his inventiveness. Though Luigi has been known that he used his abilities in previous games, his mechanical skills haven't been consistently shown to match that of Mr. L. Mr. L has the intelligence to build, upgrade, and pilot his own robot, which he calls Brobot, throughout the course of the story pioneering the art he refers to as brobotics.
Mr. L strongly resembles Luigi, though he is dressed in a black jumpsuit that strangely retains his former overalls' large buttons. He also wears a green bandana around his neck. His cap has a black background and reversed "L" instead of the normal white background and normal "L". Over his face is a black mask which seems to effectively hide his identity; this mask makes his eyes and eyebrows appear white. His gloves and shoes are dark gray. Mr. L, unlike standard Luigi, is shown to have a belt.
It is implied several times that Luigi is the "man in green", referenced in both the Light Prognosticus and the Dark Prognosticus. Both of these two books state that this man in green and his affiliations will determine which prophecy is true. As such, it can be taken that, if Luigi were to have stayed Mr. L throughout the course of the game, the Dark Prognosticus would have been fulfilled and all worlds would be destroyed, making the end of Luigi's hypnotizing and evil ways integral to Super Paper Mario. Dimentio additionally states that the Dark Prognosticus mentions Luigi as the ideal host for the Chaos Heart.
In the final battle, with help from Count Bleck and his minions, the heroes are able to summon the to destroy Dimentio and the Chaos Heart, bring back Luigi and finally erasing his hypnosis and brainwashing.
Additional information:
Catch card:
HP Max: 40
Attack: 3
Defense:
Score: 200
Card description: So...who's this mysterious Mr. L character? Is this what the Prognosticus foretold?
Tattle: That's Mr. L. This new hire of Count Bleck's a real mystery man... Max HP is 40. Attack is 3. He uses his high jump as a weapon... And that powered-up super jump is quite...super... He has no other outstanding features of note. And why does he remind me so much of Mario...?
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Quotes:
"Oh, me? Just one of Count Bleck's more promising minions. The Green Thunder... MR. L!"
"Just because you're in red doesn't mean you're strong. Have at you!"
"Ooh, the evil king of all charlatans! Do I look scared? Have at you!"
"No one's coming to save you this time, dearest princess! Have at you!"
"Hey, Mr. Jumpsallthetime! NOW we'll see who's the better jumper!"
"Hey, Mr. Getsfoiledallthetimebytheredguywiththemustache! I'll foil your FACE!"
"Hey, Ms. Pink n' Frilly! Try not to get kidnapped before I defeat you! Have at you!"
"Hey, Ms. Alwayskidnapped! I'll kidnap your FACE!"
"I uh... got to go deflavorize the Brobot's uh... Flavorizer."
"Hey there, butterball!"
"Hey, King Incompetent! I'm gonna hatch an evil plan on your FACE! Have at you!"
"I was just scouting him, dear. Next time, he will be mine!"
"But Brobot craves his daily smash! I can't just loiter here! There's no action!"
"L-ater!" - Mr. L
"Looks like your Pure Heart thing got broken. I guess Pure Hearts can't handle the end of the world. Heh. Whatever, I'll swipe it just for kicks."
"Meet my new friend... BROBOT L-TYPE!"
"Not a funny joke, Dimentio... If I wanted to laugh, your face is inspiration enough!"
"Dimentio... No..."
Fun facts about him:
Mr. L's mustache as black whereas Luigi's artwork gives him a brown mustache. In game, however, both forms' mustaches are brown.
Mr. L shares many similarities with Lord Crump from Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door, in that both of them are arrogant underlings of their games' primary antagonists, both command massive mechanical creations as well as updated versions of them, and both of them don disguises that are fairly easy to see through by the player, so much so that Mario's partners often lampshade it.
Mr. L's self-given nickname could be a reference to Luigi's Thunderhand ability from Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga.
Shadoo's first form (Dark Luigi) looks identical to Mr. L instead of normal Luigi.
(A/N): I don't have any theories about him, although of course I would accept some suggestions =)
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cassandraclare · 22 days
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A bit of publishing stuff (if you get my newsletter you've already seen this)
So by now you lovely people have all seen the announcement about what books I have coming up next. Ragpicker King is coming March 4, 2025, and The Last King of Faerie is coming early 2026.
I know a lot of you were hoping for LKOF to come earlier. It’s going to be a big gap between the last Shadowhunter book and the next — three years. Previously the longest gap between Shadowhunter books was two years, between Mortal Instruments and the Dark Artifices.
I announced last year that I was taking time off — six months. It was the first time I’d taken any real time off since 2005. The pandemic had just happened and I was wiped out physically and mentally. I also needed to take stock of where I was in my publishing journey and really think about what I wanted — it had been years since I’d had time to consider whether I was happy, because I always had another deadline and that was always more important.
  When I came to the end of The Last Hours, I was “out of contract” — meaning I didn’t have any further Shadowhunter books that were owned by or owed to a publisher.  it was the first time that had happened since, again, 2005. Being out of contract is your one chance to change anything you want to change about your career, and I knew I was going to leave my longtime US publisher of the Shadowhunter books and move to Random House, who published Sword Catcher.
This isn’t a small decision for any writer to make. It sometimes happens when a writer has been at a publisher for a very long time that the nature of the publisher changes. Maybe all the people you worked with when you first came to that publisher have gone elsewhere, so your team has inherited you rather than having chosen you. Maybe your publisher has been sold to another company whose vision for that publisher doesn’t fit with yours. Maybe your publisher isn’t interested in your genre anymore. 
I spent a lot of time agonizing over the decision—I certainly could have stayed where I was, but I knew that was no longer the best decision for the books. So those of you who pay attention to these kinds of details will note that where the other Shadowhunter books have all been published by McElderry Books, these next ones will be published by Knopf. (Who are an amazing imprint. They make great books.)
Normally a writer wouldn’t really address switching publishers — it happens a lot, and most readers don’t care who publishes a book. I’m talking about it now because I know there will be a lot of people who are angry and don’t understand why Ragpicker King is coming out before Last King of Faerie. The short answer is: Ragpicker King has been under contract since it was sold along with Sword Catcher, years ago now, and I’m obligated to get it done when I said I was going to. The books of The Wicked Powers are only just now securely under contract enough to be announced, as you just saw! So Ragpicker King is planned to be turned in in a couple of months, and after that I will be able to focus entirely on The Last King of Faerie (which I already began, but since it was only sold to Knopf last October, I was only able to get started after that).
And it takes a a year at least to write a book and another good year or so to publish it, and that gets us to the pub dates we’ve got. I would love if I could get it to you earlier, but multiple factors have brought us to this point, and in the end, not rushing through them is the best thing for the books, and will produce the best version of those books. I always want to get you my best work — that’s what is important to me above all things.
In terms of other publishers in other countries — I’m staying with all my longterm Shadowhunter publishers. Nothing’s going to change for y’all — Walker Books is still publishing Shadowhunters in the UK, even though a different publisher is going to publish In Fire Foretold there (due to spiciness.) ;) 
For those of you who backed the Kickstarter, that will mean you do get new Shadowhunter content between now and early 2026* — which was part of the reason I did it! I’m also talking to my new publisher about bringing Better in Black out — with at least a six month gap for the Kickstarter backers to have it to themselves — so fingers crossed. There’s also Black Volume of the Dead, the final Eldest Curses book, which is still planned and which I am still excited to write, but since it is set after Last King of Faerie, it hasn’t been scheduled yet. More news on that as it develops—for now, I wanted to talk directly about the schedule in the next couple of years, since I feel confident it is set and will reliably happen this way, something I can’t yet say about 2027 and beyond. The point is, I’m really excited to bring you Wicked Powers just as soon as it is ready, and I know enough about it to say  it’s going to be quite a ride!
And also an early look at In Fire Foretold.
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thereaperwatchesme · 1 year
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You were sent a protector to guide you through a foretold disaster when you were young. Now, you’re an adult, no disaster has appeared and you’re ready to live your life without the careful eyes of your “shadow”. However, his presence is most welcome as you need him more than ever.
The disaster has come your way.
Getting ready to hide away from the catastrophe, you’re suddenly found by a ragtag group of Onlookers, who attempt to protect others from your…protector. You’ve come to find out that you’re meant to be sacrificed to save the world from the tragedy yet to come.
Faced with this truth, you join forces with the formidable team and learn more about your role on Earth and the role of your protector. But you can’t help but wonder if you were able to save the world in another way that doesn’t involve your demise. Maybe with the help of your protector…
The Grim Reaper.
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| Customize your own character: choose your gender, pronouns, sexuality, and appearance.
| Meet and possibly romance five RO’s, two of which are gender-selectable.
| Discover who you are, or what you were meant to be.
| Shake things up and drive the story. Be determined and a leader, or go with the flow and stay passive.
| Would you sacrifice yourself like the Prophecy foretold, or be in charge of your new destiny and do things your way?
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MARSHALL TAYLOR (AKA MARS)
male; he/him
Mars is the leader of a group of friends named the “Onlookers.” He’s able to see the Grim Reaper and tries to prevent any deaths occurring by the Reaper’s hand. Impassive and harsh, he tries to keep you safe by protecting you at all times. Who knew that his body-guarding skills would blossom into a new love?
(Mars has tan skin, dark brown hair that's faded at the sides, gray eyes, and slight stubble on his face)
SABLE CLARK
male; he/him
Sable is the brains of the Onlookers; he designs the tech and gear for the group when it’s time to help people and capture lost souls taken by the Reaper. Usually shy and reserved, he opens up to you more than his friends. Will you two stick together?
(Sable has bright, red hair, green eyes, and wears thick-rimmed glasses. He’s lanky and pale with a small amount of freckles)
MARIANA TAYLOR
female; she/her
Mariana is the twin sister of Mars, but they have two different attitudes. She’s more friendly, but she continues to hold you at arm's length. The mastermind of the group, she cleverly creates the methods to achieve their goals. But what will she plan if her goal is now you?
(Mariana has dark brown, curly hair and tan skin. She has gray eyes and a bright smile)
PARKER CHO
gender-selectable (male, female, non-binary)
Parker is the jokester of the group, but mostly a gifted fighter. They are a warrior of sorts; fighting monsters or souls that they come across just to protect you all. They flirt with you constantly, but they have no means to start a relationship. But will they feel obligated when you’re in danger and it’s their last chance?
(Parker is of Korean descent, and they have pale skin and dark brown eyes. They’re very well muscled, and has black hair that’s curled on top of their head)
J (Justine, Justin, Justice)
gender-selectable (female, male, nonbinary)
J was your childhood friend until you moved across the country. But now you’re back, and you two are catching up. But you didn’t know that you would be pulling them into the craziness that’s happening in your life. But you mean everything to them, so they’ll do whatever to help.
(J has blonde hair and a average build with glistening, blue eyes)
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DEMO
Asks are always welcome, and if you want to check out my main IF, the @ is below:
@everythingisblue-if
Patreon: ⬇️
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outofgloom · 9 months
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PAIN AND THEN DARK
The suns of Metru Nui were bright and hot. Too hot, for too long. The heatwave had lasted a year so far and showed no sign of stopping. The meteorologists could not explain it; neither could the seers. Various protocols had been enacted across the Metru to protect and maintain the city's infrastructure, but at times it seemed like a losing battle.
The skyline of Ko-Metru was looking rather pathetic today. The Metru of Ice was the hardest hit by the rising temperatures, and perhaps the most miserable as a result. Another of the great Ice Spires had destabilized during the warm night and collapsed, filling the streets with quickly-muddying slush.
"Woe unto us!" cried a Nonguite street-prophet, standing strategically beneath the shade of a protometal joist, now exposed by the melt. He was maskless as usual, and clearly reaching the limit of his strength.
"The world shall end in heat-death, it is foretold!" he continued. "See how the eyes of Mata gaze down upon us, examining us, judging us. Closer he bends, and we are like insects before him!"
Ioro ignored the ragged Matoran, as did most everyone else. He stooped into the underhang of the crystal tower's base, noting that the usual permafrost foundations were deteriorating here as well. He made a note to shore them up when he left.
The Ice-Toa allowed himself a small expenditure of elemental power, dropping the temperature of the air rapidly, and entered through the low doorway.
"Soon shall the end come!" the distant voice crowed. "Shed your masks, and meet him with your true face!"
A Ga-Matoran glanced up, feeling the icy coolness Ioro brought with him into the medical ward.
"I was summoned," Ioro said. "Another heat-stroke?"
"Not quite," said the Ga-Matoran. She looked down at her tablet, beckoned for him to follow. The ceilings were a bit higher here, allowing the Toa to stand upright as they navigated the halls.
"Patient is identified as Kylda, of the Lower East Sanctums."
"That is Kylda, formerly of the Eighteenth Tower of Knowledge, for the record."
"Mhm."
"What has happened? Is he alright?"
They rounded a corner. Various medical personnel scattered as they passed through the center of the ward. There were whispers. The Ga-Matoran finally stopped at another doorway, examining her tablet again.
"Hang on, let's see...You are the 'Ioro' listed as a direct associate of Kylda in the Ko-Metru central records, correct? I have a mask-record on file for you, but it seems it was from...uh...before."
She gestured vaguely up and down the Toa's body. Ioro flashed his Metru identification morosely. They entered the patient room.
There was a low bed, and various mechanica beside. Ioro reached the bedside in one stride. The figure lying there did not move.
"Kylda..." he mused to himself. Then, to the Ga-Matoran: "Tell me."
"He asked for you by name when they brought him in, but lost consciousness soon after. That was several hours ago. He was--"
"--What happened to his eyes?" Ioro interrupted. "Why the bandages?"
"Ahem. He was clearly overheated from wandering outside, but the most substantial injury was to his oculars. I'm afraid they are completely destroyed."
"What?! How..."
Ioro bent closer. The bandages were woven beneath Kylda's mask, hiding whatever terrible injury lay there. His mask...
"The eyeholes of his mask are...They appear to be..."
"Burnt," the Ga-Matoran said. "Yes. We've ordered a new one from the temple-vault, but I'm not sure that..."
She trailed off.
"He is dying."
"Yes. You arrived just in time."
"You are certain?"
"Yes."
"What can I do?"
"I don't believe there was anything that could have been done. The damage goes deeper than the apertures themselves. We have made him comfortable, but it will not be long now."
"I see."
"There is more: A representative of the Metru Council was here earlier, and she delivered me this directive. I have it...uh...right here. It's for you."
The Ga-Matoran stepped forward and offered a small tablet stamped with the Council Seal. Ioro took it and turned away to read.
For the eyes of Toa Ioro only. Summon Rau for this cipher.
Ioro shifted to his Mask of Translation, read further:
Report of a disturbance at the Second-Channel Observatory Sanctum, Ko-Metru sub-district fourteen. Target of interest is Kylda, formerly Inaku Kylda, formerly of the Eighteenth Tower of Knowledge (position reverted). Intelligence suggests that this Matoran intended to engage in further repetition of illegal astrological activities.
You are designated a direct associate of this target, with knowledge of the target's history. A representative was sent to the Po-Ko Medical Ward, Ko-Metru sub-district nine, where Kylda was admitted, but it was determined that interrogation was not possible at that time. Your directive now is to go to the Second-Channel Observatory Sanctum, Ko-Metru sub-district fourteen, and determine what activities may have taken place there.
Any data derived from these activities is to be destroyed, in accordance with the Prohibitions. Report back to Station, sub-level three of the Coliseum when complete.
Ioro looked up from his tablet. Kylda's breathing was shallow. The mechanica chirped steadily. The Ga-Matoran waited at the door.
"Give me a moment with him, please."
The Ga-Matoran backed out of the room.
Ioro stood still, gazing down at his friend. He looked small to Ioro--all Matoran did, of course. But even smaller now, lying there. It had been too long since they had spoken. He'd worried that Kylda might do something, left to his own devices. Return to...old obsessions.
Ioro glanced back to the doorway. Low conversation in the central ward beyond. No inquiring eyes. Quickly, silently, he knelt beside the bed, hand to Kylda's scorched forehead, and shifted to his Mask of Telepathy.
Down through the shifting psionic waves, through the twisting mental pathways he searched for fleeting remnants of consciousness. Thoughts flickered past, muddled and indistinct. He pushed on, seeking a place of cohesion, of active awareness.
At last, blurry impressions began to resolve, and he felt a faint presence.
"Kylda, I'm here," he said with his mind-voice. "Do you know me?"
"...Ioro?" the answer came slowly.
"Yes."
"Ioro, you are...You came! Where are we? It's dark..."
"We are in your thoughts, my friend. Perks of being a Toa."
"I can hear you. I think I've been...dreaming."
"You've been unconscious."
"They gave me some of the numbing fruit at first, and that helped."
"Are you in pain?"
"No, no...not anymore."
"That's good. I'll tell the healers."
"How long..."
"Just a few hours, I think. They found you on the street and brought you in."
"No, I mean...how long do I have left?"
"...What?"
"I can feel it, Ioro. I was...crawling. I was outside for a long time, in the sunslight. It was too much; I can feel it in my core."
"Let's not rush to--"
"Don't lie to me."
A long pause. Ioro searched for the words.
"I'm sorry, Kylda," he said at last. "There...there isn't much time left."
"I see. It's my own fault. I couldn't stop myself."
"Please tell me you didn't. You know the Prohibitions."
"I made a mistake, Ioro."
"Why? After all that happened, after losing your place at the Tower..."
"I don't know why. I couldn't help it, somehow. It's been on my mind for so long. The work was...It was unfinished."
"It should have stayed unfinished."
"No, it had to be done...And I did it, Ioro. At long last, I did it!"
Another pause.
"Tell me."
"I snuck back into my old observatory--you know the one. I planned it all out, brought in all my things. I'd been doing the calculations for years. It was easy to make the proper adjustments, just like before."
"Just like before...so you violated the Prohibitions after all. I had hoped--"
"Curse the Prohibitions! You know how I feel about them."
"Yes, of course--"
"--Divining of the suns and moons tells us just as much as the stars. More, even! They are a direct link to the mind of Mata Nui. A terrifying thought, that we Matoran could look the Great Spirit in the face. I've always said the seers are too small-minded, too set in their ways."
"--Spare me the speech, Kylda. You sound like the street-prophets."
"Don't say that. You know that hurts me."
"I'm sorry."
"Anyways...well, I did it! The suns were just rising at dawn. I adjusted the great lenses of the telescope and trained it at Akuavo, the upper sun, and affixed my old tinted lenses. I kept some of them, you see..."
"Of course you did."
"And I looked...and I looked through...I saw..."
The telepathic voice grew quieter.
"Kylda?"
"Saw..."
"Kylda stay with me."
"Ioro...my friend...I think..."
"I'm sorry, Kylda. I should have been there. I should have stopped you."
"I think I saw...no...No!"
The mindspace agitated, convulsed. Ioro felt sick, but held on.
"Can you hear me?"
"I saw it! Oh, I saw it for sure, and it burned me, Ioro. It burned me in my eyes, in my brain. I thought the lenses would be protection enough, but I was a fool."
"That's not true."
"I looked into the eye of Mata. I looked and he judged me!"
"It's over now. There's no need--"
"--Behind the suns, Ioro. It was there."
A shudder went through the mental pathways. Ioro felt a pang of something. Dread...and that old curiosity.
"...What was there, Kylda?" he asked after a moment.
"What did you see?"
==========
The observatory was dark and cool, well-shielded from the warm air outside. Ioro had finished his catalogue of items, wiped the remaining records from the various memory crystals. Not a trace was left. It had been a long process, sifting through the various materials Kylda had brought in, making sure the Prohibitions were kept. The long sweltering night was almost over by now.
The Ice-Toa brushed dust from his hands. He was overdue to report in. Station would have a reprimand for him, in all likelihood. He was normally very punctual. Very precise.
He stepped toward the low door.
"...What was there, Kylda? What did you see?"
He stopped, hand hovering over the access panel. Slowly he turned, fixed his eyes on the mechanism that dominated the small, domed space.
"I must tell someone, or I'll never be at peace. But you must promise..."
The telescope was of the usual kind: a shaped flute of metal, fixed to a stone pedestal. The great crystal lens was not visible beyond where it intersected with the dome.
"Promise that you will tell them. That my work...our work...will not be in vain."
"Kylda, I don't know."
"Swear it!"
Dread...and curiosity. The eye-piece branched from the base of the telescope, a blank eye pointing downward.
"I...I swear."
There was a dark spot on the floor of the chamber, a small scorched hole burned into the stone.
"Behind the eyes of Mata, Ioro...Behind the suns. I saw...another. A greater sun. I saw it. Stark and terrible, in a greater void. And not only that: a thousand lights, ten-thousand...all around. All staring at me out of the emptiness. Unreadable. And then pain. And then dark."
Ioro realized that he had forgotten to remove the last of the tinted lenses Kylda had affixed to the eye-piece.
He shook himself and stepped forward, stooping beneath the curved metal. That would have to be destroyed as well...
"I don't understand."
"Maybe you can't...Maybe...But know this: After I fell and crawled in the fire of Mata's judgement, this question was burned into my mind: If our suns are truly the eyes of Mata Nui, as the mad sages claimed of old...Then what...then what...then what...then what..."
"It's alright, Kylda. I'm here. It's okay, you don't have to--"
"--then...what...Eyes!"
The telescope stood above him with its great lens pointing skyward.
"...are...looking...down!"
The eye-piece stared at him expectantly.
"...down upon...Him...upon...Us...from that greater void?!"
Dawn crept over the horizon.
"Tell me!"
And then pain.
And then dark.
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cherryredstars · 6 months
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1K Prompts
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: Gods AU, Sprinkled Fluff, Mentions of Injured Animals
Summary: It is as the prophecy foretold.  
Word Count: 1.2K (Not Edited)
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The light is a golden white. 
The monument is beginning to form cracks in its delicate marble, foreshadowing the crumbled state it will begin to take as time rushes forward. The night air is warm, chased with the occasional breeze. Footsteps echo in the hollowness, a cloaked figure descending the steps of the shrine. The wind comes to greet the figure, playfully trying to detach the pure white cloth from their form. The moon comes to greet them too, lighting the path to the village in silver. From a distance, the figure seems to glow with the moon.
The village is silent, warm from the late night candles that are now extinguished. It is shielded in darkness, but a bittersweet taste is hanging in the air, just like the townspeople said. It is familiar, bordering on fearful and comforting. Under wooden doors, light teases to escape from the homes but thinks better of it and stays to warm the residents. As the figure walks through the empty dirt road, scattered randomly with stones, the crickets and night owls quiet. 
A dog, skinny and wobbling on a broken paw sits in a dark crevice between two homes. The figure walks to the entrance of the small slit, staring down at the animal. Instead of cowering and running away, the dog tries to crawl forward. Its body is too heavy to support itself, protruding ribs weighing down its skinny legs. It tires easily, barely moving a foot before it shifts its head up to look at its cloaked savior. A pitiful whimper rumbles from its throat, silencing when the figure brings a finger to its mouth. The figure bends down, their hand hovering over the dog’s face like they are closing its eyes. The dog's eyes grow heavy, head lowering to rest on its paws. The figure gets up, leaving the dog in its place before continuing their journey. A few seconds later, a puppy of the same moonlight silver follows, tripping over its paws. 
The puppy weaves around the figure’s legs yapping in a pitch only they can hear. The puppy seems excited and nostalgic, tumbling and chasing fireflies. The two make it to the edge of the village. They stand at the entrance of a thick forest. The leaves and trunks are dense, preventing the shining of the moon. The figure walks ahead, stopping as the puppy hesitates and gives chase once again. It is colder in the forest, but the figure continues weaving in and out of trees. They do not seem to have an exact location in mind.
Suddenly, cold and deadly arms wrap around the figure’s waist. The figure stills momentarily. Then, they reach up. They grasp the material of the cloak’s hood delicately, pushing it off their head as they look over their shoulder. 
The figure--a woman--has shiny skin. Her hair flows from her head and her eyes shine with a comforting warmth that feels like you are coming home after a long and cruel journey. Her aura and face promises protection and all that you’ve been secretly longing for. 
“Cariño, you always know where to find me,” the second figure hums. 
It is a man, his dark apparel contrasting with his lover’s white clothes. He seems harsher, more final. But, matching with his other half, he gives a subtle comfort. It can only be found in a darkness, revealed to those who are brave enough to enter it. His features are sharp and defined, instead of soft and rounded. 
“I brought you a present, Miguel,” the woman responds. Both turn to the ground, watching the glowing puppy who tilts its head in curiosity. 
“I see,” Miguel murmurs. 
His arms unwind from the woman, crouching to the ground. He holds his hand out, slightly translucent and resembling bones. Hesitance engulfed the small dog again, put it steps forward and sniffs Miguel’s hand. Its tail begins to wag as it realizes what is to come. It yelps excitedly, spinning and jumping in circles before pushing its head into Miguel’s hand. Both gods chuckle, eyes softening as Miguel scratches behind its ear. The puppy pulls away, looking at the two of them one last time before licking Death’s hand. A strong breeze comes through the trees and the dog disappears with it. 
They stay paused for a moment, giving nature and its spirits their moment before Miguel gets up again. The two gods face each other, the woman holding her hand out. Miguel takes it, winding his arms around her waist once again. The Guardian throws her arms around Miguel’s neck, delicate fingers ghosting up and down his back. A dark rumble escapes his chest, his face falling to her neck and nosing at it. She giggles at the gesture, turning her head so her lips hover over his ear. 
“The village smells of death. You scare them.”
A deep sigh leaves Miguel, pulling away slightly to cup the Guardian’s cheek. He presses a soft kiss to the opposite cheek, stalling. The woman is patient, basking in the moment and not rushing Death. He is thankful. 
“They scare themselves,” he whispers back. “Something, a plague or a… hero, perhaps, is soon approaching. Something is stirring, mi luz.”
His goddess hums in thought, eyes glazing over as she peers somewhere behind his shoulder. Her hand on his back stills, hands readjusting to grasp his shoulders. His hands squeeze her sides in comfort, resting his forehead against hers. Her eyes return to his, clearer now. Her beautiful features are marred by a frown, and Miguel’s hand comes to smooth her frown lines away. 
“The temple… it is beginning to crack. It grows colder. The oracle foretold it, but it is too soon.” 
Her voice is calm, but it holds a bit of alarm. Her body grows stiff and Miguel comforts her in a way only he can. He hums in agreement, but there is little else the either of them can do. 
“I know, but we know better than most that time is unforgiving. It does not wait for God or man.”
The Guardian huffs and sinks into her lover’s hold. Some of her warmth seeps into him and he smiles. His hand goes to the small of her back while the other pets her hair. After some time, he pulls away and takes her hand. He guides her back out through the trees, returning to the forest’s edge. The night sky is beginning to lighten, and the moon begins to melt into the sky. Miguel presses his front into her back, kissing the curve of her shoulder. They are silent for a few minutes, watching as the sky clears to make way for the approaching sun. 
“A new age is upon us, mi luz,” Miguel whispers faintly into her ear. “It will be our turn to rest soon.”
A strong breeze comes again, her hair trying to follow. When it settles, the coldness at her back is gone. The Guardian stares at the horizon, that small frown still on her face. With a heavy sigh, she pulls her hood back over her face. Her feet move back through the village, growing further away from the trees. She passes the crook where the dog’s body lays, the crickets and night owls sleeping now. 
An echo comes again from marble steps, a cloaked figure in white disappearing through the column. The sun rises, washing everything in a golden white before the world is silent again. 
Then, the village people open their doors and live as they always have for the last time.
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I love God AUs.
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0harpies · 10 months
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Your art tastes like freshly-baked bread with cinnamon and sugar on it. A little bit too much, but in the way that it just tastes even better. Like pure bitter sugar. It feels like a Red Bull, but only the drinking part. It feels like a cup of matcha has engulfed you physically, in shades of matcha green and porcelain whites. It feels like being a witch and a bookkeeper, but the type of witch as those two women from Coraline. Only sane. The tea leaves are being read, and fate is being foretold- the aftermath tastes bitter, but sweet. And it tastes and feels like accidentally-swallowed tea leaves. You finally shut the book, relishing in the old smell, a brown and gold shelf of books behind you. You rest in a dark green chair, eyes closed, head up towards the cloud. It’s a white void, but not a suffocating one. A comforting one. As you wait for shapes to appear behind your eyelids, and for the mail to be delivered by some paperboy named Stan the next day.
that is what your art feels like.
also for the record I have never had matcha in my life
What is wrong with you people!! /Pos
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