phantomwinged

[phantomwinged]

id: “Heaven fell / (not me)” centred in bold text.

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❝ so. house of hope. you think there's actually hope down there? ❞

CLOSED STARTER FOR WILLA: @felledbymortals

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❝ bold of ya to assume i need a reason to run my mouth, love . . . might repeat myself—if you say please. ❞

"noooo, i'm just testing you to see if you'll actually repeat yourself."

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i've been pondering and made a lil breakdown of his curse . . .

why his ancestor was cursed: lyrion, once selûne’s chosen and beloved, was deceived by zehir—who had taken the form of a trusted aasimar named michael. under this disguise, zehir convinced lyrion that one of selûne’s most cherished followers was an agent of shar. lyrion struck them down and stole a sacred relic meant to keep zehir bound.

selûne’s reaction: devastated by the betrayal—especially from someone she loved—selûne turned her gaze away. her silence sealed lyrion’s exile and fall from grace. his wings blackened, a mark of what he’d done.

zehir’s curse: though zehir orchestrated it all, he cursed lyrion’s bloodline out of cruelty—punishing him for being so easily turned. the curse of the fallen bound black wings to his descendants and marked them with twin serpent tattoos that bite and slither in the presence of betrayal or other curses. to this day, zehir still wears michael’s skin when it suits him—keeping the lie alive, even before selûne

what selûne believed: she thought lyrion’s bloodline had died with him—until dame alyin brings ragnar to trial for being fallen. only then does selûne realize: this isn’t ragnar’s failure, but a legacy curse. his black wings are not signs of sin, but symbols of an ancient betrayal—one she never truly saw. this trial isn’t just about ragnar—it’s about a curse from a traitor, a judgment she thought was finished, and the betrayal of someone she still may trust.

so pretty much . . .

black wings = sign of a fall from grace, are the mark of lyrion’s betrayal against selûne. (she didn't MAKE him fallen, it is the natural consequences of his actions in betraying her. canonically, black wings AREN'T hereditary. so . . .) curse of the fallen = binds fallen status / black wings to the bloodline. the twin snakes tattoos wrapped ‘round his wrists bite and slither as a reminder of that curse.

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༓ 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐑 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐒 — 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐔𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈 ( 1 / ? ) . . .

ragnar's moodboard: fallen aasimar, rogue, criminal

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Sasha Rackett | Rusty Quill Gaming

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A post shared by Mike de Beer (@mike.debeer)

this is 100% the most ragnar energy video i've seen.

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ragnar raised an eyebrow at the mention of that bloody balduran statue. not exactly the fittest bloke around. he never liked him—some legend dressed up in glory, built off other people’s backs. came from nothing, sure, but never looked back to help the ones who got him there. ragnar had been stepped on more than once, and that statue? always felt like it was laughing at him. reminded him of being hungry on the street.

ragnar smirked and shook his head when she asked if the wings vanishing hurt. ❝nah, love. don’t hurt at all. sigil just makes ’em go. me eye hurt more lookin’ at ellis’ statue... and 'm not allowed in the circus.❞ he leaned back on one elbow and laughed slightly. once upon a time, he'd sneak around with one of the woman there. it didn't end well for ragnar. ❝weren’t me that betrayed selûne. i’m not that daft.❞ his eyes flicked up to her. ❝but someone in me bloodline did. dunno who, when, or why.❞ he was born cursed, raised on the edge of nothing. a solo aasimar. for an aasimar, wings were meant to be a blessing. but his? black as night—his greatest shame.

❝curse of the fallen, that’s what they call it in the book. that's my curse. wings like mine mean betrayal. fall from grace, whatever the bollocks that means.❞ he’d figured it all out on his own. no one had answers for a kid like him. he laughed then, louder this time, shaking his head before looking right back at her. ❝ain’t got the energy to bury me cock in much these days—definitely not the drow twins.❞ when she spoke of her future, he listened. really listened. he understood that fear in his own way—of hoping too hard and letting yourself down again. ❝sweets ’n music, eh? i can see it. . . a lass like you could be runnin’ a little shop somewhere. bright sign out front. called somethin’ ridiculous like... honey & harp.❞ he smiled, genuine this time. ❝you gotta admit, that's a clever name, that.❞

It was certainly an interesting group of people. Some she liked more than others, some she disliked more than the others. She liked Ragnar. He was an ass for sure but he was blunt, she appreciated that amongst all the secrets. She was certain he had plenty of his own but it didn’t seem like his were going to screw them over just yet. And he was funny. That part helped a lot. And he was easy on the eyes even if they were a bit shifty.

“Anything but that Balduran statue. He was not the most attractive adventurer it seems.” The bard saw it nearly every day as she moved about the city. She was grateful for the city and what he made of it, but he wasn’t cute. “There’s still time to get one from the Memphit at the circus. Ellis’ is rather gauche.” Willa chuckled. She watched his wings disappear curiously, “does that hurt?” She asked.

“Besides her, you’re the first aasimar I’ve ever known. Can’t say I know the difference.” There were stories of course, probably a Volo guide map about it but she didn’t seem to know. “You’re saying you betrayed Selune?” She asked. He didn’t seem that reckless. “If you wish to bury your cock along with your sorrows, be my guest so long as it’s a happy ending.” She mused, “I would advise passing on the drow twins by the way.” The bard smirked and came to sit beside him. “I never pictured a happy ending. Not in a pessimistic way, I just wanted to be surprised and not set myself up for disappointment.” She smiled, “I think I’d like to be happy. Somewhere still playing music, somewhere with sweets. I am guilty of a sweet tooth.”

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ragnar scanned the crowds moving through the lower city streets, eyes sharp. the way she’d called him mister earlier? kind of cute. not something he heard often—he was used to far worse names in these parts. ❝ragnar. just ragnar,❞ he said simply, with a small smile. ❝and you? need a name to go with that beautiful face, love.❞ it sounded cheeky, but he meant it. well, as genuine as he ever got. ❝you know, in case you go gettin’ lost again.❞

he’d found a quieter spot by a fountain at the edge of the square, away from the worst of the merchants’ shouting. when she glanced up, thinking aloud, he paused to listen. ❝you reckon he stayed down here in the lower city? or’s he wandered up to the upper?❞ his head tilted. ❝if he’s still ‘round here, i can help. but even if he’s run off to the posh end, i know a few spots he might've ended up.❞ a grin tugged at his mouth.❝‘specially if it’s boots he’s after. there’s a place with cobblestone soles and the works… and you—remind me to get you that map, yeah?❞

rapunzel's eyebrows shot up as ragnar said that the crowd wouldn't attempt to rob him unless they wanted to lose a few teeth. it wasn't the violence of his statement that shocked her, but the confidence with which it was said; to her, she wouldn't be surprised if he'd done something like that before. after all, no one says something like that without having done it, right?

"i would not be surprised, mister..." lips pursed together as she paused. "i'm afraid i didn't catch your name. after all, you've saved me from being mugged and having to explain why all of my possessions were stolen," she added. and besides, it wouldn't be a proper thank you without properly addressing him. pink lips curled into a smile, a light chuckle passing her lips at the mention of a map. "i will be sure to do that. perhaps his next birthday present will be a map with every single detail possible." she was kidding, but she was seriously thinking of buying maximus a map.

another pause as she looked upward in thought. "i believe he said that he wanted to buy some new boots. i suppose his were getting too dirty for his taste."

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ragnar: *says no one would attempt to rob him unless they want broken teeth* fr rapunzel @shesdaylight :

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༓𖤐༓ @shesdaylight said: say  that  again.  i  dare  you.

❝you daring me now? careful, love. i might start thinkin’ you like hearin’ me talk.❞

𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐓 . . .

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ragnar’s own sea-green eyes watched hers lift to the sky. he smirked and nodded, though confusion flickered across his face at first before her meaning clicked. ❝aye… bit of a rough crowd here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary. it’s a pub, not some fancy ballroom, but they’ve got beds, good music, food if you need it.❞ he held her gaze a moment longer, like he was making sure she was steady. ❝won’t lie to you though—storm like this ain’t just rain an’ thunder. somethin’ mean in it, and it’s gonna last through the night…❞ ragnar grinned softly before clearing his throat. ❝you know... if you still fancy goin’ to the library, i’ll save you a spot—and a pint—on me. wouldn’t want you waitin’ out a storm without some company.❞

there's a small glint of fear in her eyes; not wanting to be caught in this storm, not wanting to be so far away from home when it hits... it sounds like it'll be a horrible one, from the way he speaks about it. green eyes look back to the sky, and maybe it's just in her imagination, but she can practically feel the rumbles of thunder inside of her. "is it safe?" she asks, looking back toward ragnar. "elfsong tavern, i mean. will it be safe to wait out the storm there?"

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bleeding out inside my closet the s e c r e t s I will keep.

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"It took my whole, entire mortal life to remember who I was... and now it's time for you to do the same, my brother."

[phantomwinged]

Cecilia Bustamante, from a poem featured in Woman who has sprouted Wings; poems by contemporary Latin American Women Poets

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so stupid but: he really loves peppermint tea

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If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie! If angels can do whatever, and remain in the sky The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say