#《⭒✩⭒ || visage: child of the abyss (childe) 》

[howthesleeplesswander]

Finally got around to making myself some nice formatted tags u3u/ pls don't mind this tag dump!

[yaekiss]

crawling like a zombie out of a grave with heavy brainROT thinking of that vampire bat thing… i KNOW that freak of a man childe would absolutely be into that, even biting his lips to add on more blood and get you hooked on and used to his instead of some lousy human… but also thing of cuties like kaveh who shiver at the taste, and you’re sure he’d be blushing if he could, whimpers flowing out from his lips so easily. a high class diluc having a glass pressed against his lips held from you, filled with exquisite blood that fills his mouth before you kiss him filthily, knowing full well how he loves how perverted it makes him feel, how his hands shake and grip tightens on you with every swirl of your tongue against his.

𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Sub! Tartaglia, Sub! Kaveh, Sub! Diluc (separate), no gendered terms for reader, vampire! AU, blood and biting, mentions of violence in Tartaglia's part, lightly implied top!reader in Kaveh's part, footjob and cumming in pants in Diluc's part, lmk if I missed anything! ꩜ A/N: I didn't mean for this to get so long... pulpie what did u do to me...... 2.2k of vampire brainrot orz,,, anyways hope you enjoy the difference in dynamics !! PLEASE FILL IN THE FORM HERE AFTER READING THANK YOU!!!!

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟕𝟐𝟎: 𝑻𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒂 ꒷꒦ Vampire!Reader x Human!Tartaglia ꒦꒷

Someone as battle-hungry as Childe never backs down from a challenge, even if it means trying to tame a literal creature of the night. (Although, reading through countless dusty tomes regarding vampire courtship isn’t really part of the taming process.)

A plus side to having a bloodthirsty harbinger as your partner is that you haven’t known hunger ever since he started trying to woo you! Dragging to you the, still warm, bodies of enemies he had to dispose of with a cheery grin, he watches, enraptured, as you partake in the meal he so graciously gifts you.

His eyes are trained on your form as you lap up the blood from the existing wounds he inflicted on the body during the fight, coating your lips in a sickening glisten. Childe squirms in his place, feeling a heat rising within. Tearing his gaze away from you, he looks down.

Fuck. He’s hard.

Shakily, he palms himself through his pants, looking for some relief. He tries to muffle his moans but he’s never really known to be quiet. His mind fills itself with images of you, appetite voracious as you drink from the body, bloodied fangs piercing through skin, and before it even registers, he’s whining for you.

Your shoes come into view and as he looks back up, he knows he’s been caught.

“Help me, please?” At that moment, Childe sounds too delectable, and coupled with the pleading way he’s looking at you, it seems that you crave something other than blood tonight too.

Your hands move to grab at his jawline, the sudden chill of your fingers against his skin makes his breath hitch and the way your sharpened nails graze him makes him all the more harder. Childe keens when your lips smash onto his, parting his mouth as you deepen the kiss, making him taste the lingering metallic tang of blood. 

His brain is a traitorous thing when it inserts himself into the place of the body. The visage of your arms cradling him as your fangs trace over the exposed skin of his neck, teasing before they sink in, when he could be all you think of, the visage burns behind his eyelids. Pulling away to allow Childe to catch his breath, his mind betrays him a third time when he doesn’t think and bites down hard on his own bottom lip before he captures yours again.

Instantly, his taste fills your mouth. It’s not often you manage to savour the blood of someone touched by the abyss. The flavour is intoxicating and you find yourself wanting more. As if by instinct, your hand supports the back of his head and he moans into your mouth as you kiss harder. 

Childe doesn’t know if he’s spurred on by the fact that you’re so taken by the taste of him other than that other lousy human or if it’s the hunger shining in your eyes. There’s a part of him that sings when the thought registers. The thought that he, his blood, has such an effect on you, amplifying your bloodlust a hundredfold, that he is addictive to you. That you want him.

Moving forward, he doesn’t bring you any more bodies. Instead, he just brings himself, and hopefully, he’d get a little lucky too.

Childe never backed down from a challenge, even if it meant being tamed by a literal creature of the night ♡

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟕𝟎𝟗: 𝑲𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒉 ꒷꒦ Vampire!Reader x Vampire!Kaveh ꒦꒷

A vampire Kaveh would be… a little pitiful. The thought of harming someone else goes against everything he stands for, let alone drinking someone else’s blood (even if the blood was obtained through honest, human-vampire-law-abiding, means.)

He resorts to drinking animal blood instead. It’s not the most satiating or nourishing but it’ll have to do. At least he doesn’t have to imagine a human face with a family tied to the bloody beverage he’s gulping down. However, it leaves him weak and prone to feeling faint at the most inopportune of times.

Times such as now, when Kaveh can’t find his keys again and he’s locked out of Alhaitham’s house and he desperately needs to drink but his blood stash is in the house and he can’t find Alhaitham anywhere. It’s not hard to see that your poor fellow vampire is spiralling when you open the door to your home that he’s been frantically pounding on.

You lead him inside, carefully setting him down on the couch since he was dangerously swaying back and forth while he walked. Kaveh and you go way back, so it’s not surprising that he seeks you out when he’s in need. You’re just so understanding, nothing like Alhaitham, and you’ve always looked out for him unceasingly all this time. His eyes catch how your hand is still supporting his arm from earlier and if his heart could beat, it would be fluttering right now.

“How long has it been since your last meal?” Shit, you’re grilling him and he’ll be dead twice over if you find out he hasn’t exactly been taking care of himself. He deflates pathetically in his seat before he mutters out his answer.

“A week and a half… maybe two…” His answer trails off and he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes. He quickly tacks on an explanation for good measure when the silence drags on for too long and he can feel himself being simmered alive (undead?) in your gaze.

“M-my commissions haven’t been coming in and- and money is a little tight-” he sighs, “-before I even realised it, the amount of blood I have left was already running low…”

Your hand leaves his arm and the action has his head snapping back to look at you. He feels you rise from your seat next to him on the sofa and alarms blare in his mind. Did he say something wrong? He knows he should look after himself more, fuck, you don’t hate him now, right? He’s brought out of his thoughts when you push a cup into his twiddling hands.

“Drink up.” Kaveh looks up at you, expecting to see a disapproving frown. However, when all he can see is worry and concern on your face, he’s a little caught off guard.

“But isn’t it… human blood?” He’s sheepish when he asks this, brows knitted together.

“I’m sorry, but it’s all I have currently and you look like you’d faint if you don’t get something in your system right now.”

Even so, he doesn't budge, just holding the cup in his hands. Usually, the scent alone is enough to send hungry vampires into a frenzy. Judging by how hard he’s clenching it and how he’s definitely starving by now, you can tell he’s holding himself back. You don’t want to risk anything bad happening to Kaveh if you go out to buy a bag of animal blood right now so you press on.

“Is there any way I can convince you to drink it?”

Maybe it’s the spiralling state of mind he has, or the loopiness from the hunger, or that determined gleam you have in your eyes, but something weakens inside of him as he blurts out.

“Can you feed it to me? I don’ wanna think ‘bout who the blood came fr’m.”

His vision spins as you gently take the cup out of his hands. Why is the room spinning? Why are you getting closer?? 

Your lips meet his and suddenly his slurred words click in his mind. Eyes widening, he looks at you but he makes no move to push you away. He just leans into your touch when your hands cup his cheeks and as you part his lips, the taste of the blood hits him.

It’s been ages since he’s savoured this flavour, and with you kissing him too? He can’t stop a shiver from rocking through his body when your tongue enters his mouth, pressing his thighs together as he lets out a loud whimper. Your hand cards through his hair, messing up the blonde locks but he can’t find it in himself to complain, not when he’s practically melting in your arms. Now, it’s become less of trying to feed Kaveh before he dies, and more of making out with the closest companion you’ve loved all this time.

Filthy whines escape him as the initial exquisite flavour of blood mellows out, giving way to the taste of you. Did his fang accidentally pierce your tongue? He doesn’t have the power to think about it when all he can comprehend is you, the taste of your blood, the touch of your skin, your tongue down his throat. You override his every thought and he’s left craving. 

The intimate moment lasts for a bit more before you break apart. (To Kaveh, it felt like something between a split-second and his ever-eternal lifespan.) 

He’s still a little shaky, it’s obvious that that little mouthful of blood isn’t enough nourishment for him.

“Will you drink if you can only think of me while you do?”

Kaveh leaves your home glowing the next day. (He’s limping too but let’s not talk about that.)

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟒𝟑𝟎: 𝑫𝒊𝒍𝒖𝒄 𝑹. ꒷꒦ Human!Reader x Vampire!Diluc ꒦꒷

It’s awfully gratifying to have the Diluc Ragnvindr, a noble of high vampire society, knelt at your feet, his hands held behind his back. You don't even need to bind his hands. Frankly, it wouldn't really do anything because of his supernatural strength. But, oh. There's something so delicious about him willing to keep his hands behind him just because you asked. The way you have him utterly wrapped around your finger... tantalising. 

You hold the wineglass of your blood above him and he instinctively shuffles in closer, a low whine leaving him before he even realises. As you tilt the cup towards him, his plush lips close on the rim, fervently lapping up what he can. He's terribly messy though. Tsk, and to think he's supposed to be high class.

The frenzied way he's drinking up your oblation, watching the crimson trickle past his lips, staining his pale skin such a dazzling red as it drips further down to his bobbing throat, he really is mesmerising. And what’s this? 

Your dear Diluc is rutting against your shoe, trying to get off while you’re so graciously feeding him. Greedy.

He’s panting in between gulps, his eyes unfocused as the lust building in him drives him mad. There’s a conscious part of his brain saying that he shouldn’t be trying to cum right now, you’re being so nice to him, but fuck, it feels sosososo good!

You think he’ll forgive you when you cruelly pull the cup away from him.

Immediately, a pitched whine rips from his throat, and he chases after your blood, eyes begging for you to return his sweet salvation. But Diluc thinks otherwise about opening his mouth to try to reason with you when he feels your foot against his crotch.

“I’ll let you drink again after you cum, hmm? It’s not good to be distracted while you eat.” 

His brain kicks into overdrive when the tip of your shoes presses down onto his dick, the pain bleeding into sinful pleasure. Diluc lets out a sharp hiss as you move your foot, teasing his length that’s straining behind his pants. He’s grinding his hard cock against the bottom of your shoe, the darkened patch of fabric growing and lewd moans slipping from his lips as he does so.

You can tell when he’s about to cum, his eyes are screwed shut and his moans become louder and more clipped, focusing more on the tempting heat rather than getting proper words out. Quickly, you take a mouthful of blood before you lean in and pull him in by the collar of his shirt.

The kiss is nothing shy of filthy, smearing blood on your lips and cheeks as he drinks desperately. He’s addicted to the heat of your mouth, your blood, on his skin, and the ravenous way you’re kissing him makes him feel like he’s the one being devoured instead. His neck is straining from being tilted upwards but there’s no other way he’d have you, as if it was only natural to have a powerful being like him on his knees at your side.

A hard press against the tip of his cock is what sends him off the edge. Cumming with a shout, he leans into your kiss, the hands he held behind his back all this time shooting forward to grasp at your thighs. Diluc shakes as he rides out his orgasm, groaning every time he ruts against your shoe.

Pulling away from him, his tongue lolls out of his mouth with a dazed expression on his face, as if he’s been fucked dumb. You drink in his appearance. He’s dishevelled, his usual tidy ponytail all tangled and messy, a wet patch at the front of his pants where he came in his pants. Diluc suppresses a shiver when he notices the swirling hunger in the gaze you regard him with, the roles of vampire and human so easily reversed and perverted by you.

Your lips shine with a saccharine sheen under the dim lighting as they part to ask him.

“And what do you say, Diluc?”

“Thank you.”

 It's safe to say that, unlike Diluc, your hunger isn't getting abated anytime soon.

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[milksuu]

❝ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❞ ─── ☾⏺☽

pairing: yandere!aphelios x solari!priestess!reader (LoL)

warning: non/con, fem!reader, possessive/obsessive behavior, mentions of blood/violence, religious/fanatical behavior, unhealthy coping mechanisms, minor drug use, implied kidnapping, implied forced relationship, semi-public sex, unbalanced power dynamic, runeterra au

notes: sorry besties, he's a 10 but he's bat shit insane. (so an 11) also any mention of 'her' is the moon goddess, not alune. (we're leaving that sweet summer child out of this.) and for those who aren't aware, phel can speak when not under the influence of noctum, but unable to communicate with alune, which is uh...great in this case. (also not me wanting to write a second part like how why help?)

You never thought you’d stare into the pale visage of the Lunari man the village whispered about.

The one with a vacant face but deadly occupation. Your naïve belief in your own safe keeping was nothing more than an illusion. The sun always faded below the misted cliffs, only for the moon to take its place above the mountain’s highest peak. An endless cycle of hierarchical dominance that rinsed itself in blood and repeated in constant turmoil. Tonight would be no different.

“Don’t come any closer.”

A failed attempt to embolden your voice beyond a meek plea. You stiffened at the thunderous closing of the temple door. A clambering echo vibrated through the marble floor and pillars, past the rows of worship, up to where you stood at the crest of the ceremonial altar. The remaining resonance rattled and sang up your spine, shaking the candle light pinched between your fingertips. 

The figure sauntered forward, stepping into the drapes of moonshine filtering from the glass atrium above. Before you stood a deadly beauty; a handsome face rapt with enticing secrets. With a painted crescent that mocked your own solar marking of gold. His lips were a perfect horizontal line, and it was difficult to imagine the ability they possessed beyond lethal silence. His hallowed expression screamed danger—but there was no running away—not when the black abyss of his eyes invited you to stay.

 Not as a guest, but as his permanent resident.

“I’m warning you. Take one more step, and I’ll scream. The guards will come and they won’t hesitate to kill you—”

Your voice went taut inside your throat. Your breath sewn shut against your lungs. The weapon he carried listless at his side drenched itself in various hues of red. Fresh enough to steam in wisps around the sharpest point of the blade.

He stalked forward. The clack of his predetermined steps quickening the pace of your heart. When he stood at arms length, you felt the coldest touch of night. The veins layered beneath your skin pounded, flooding every inch of you with mortal dread. It was sickening to think the flush of your flesh would only make the spill of it all the better. The ‘Weapon of The Faithful’—titled by his own blasphemous people—spoke true. His name…you wished you could cleanse it from existence.

“Aphelios.” You damned the name like a plague upon all of Mount Targon. “Murderer. Blight. Heretic!” 

You jabbed and swung your candlelight in a pitiful attempt to create distance. His free hand quipped against it, sending it clambering to the ground, banishing the flame to the surrounding night. Creating a hazier veil of darkness where there was only one true light—his moon.

Out of sheer disdain, you attempted to slap his face in recoil. His unarmed hand caught you by the wrist, remaining still as you struggled to free yourself from his trained grasp. With force, he pried your hand open, palm exposed. He brought the skin of it to his stiff lips. Unmoving, he lingered there. His lashes fluttered closed; taking a moment of peace, a moment of prayer. 

A moment for sanctum. 

His eyes then winged opened, boring into you, through you. Body, bone and soul. And all you could do was tremble within them. Sinking without escape into those black depths of…nothing. 

In one swift motion, he brought the blade upwards, slicing through the thin linen of your garments. In a precise vertical line, your gown split into two equal halves. The insignificant barrier between you and him slipped to the ground, splaying like rags at your feet. Your head pounded for you to scream, but your own voice felt lost to you. Knowing it was all meaningless. 

No one would hear you. 

No one would save you.

Weakened by the surmounting despair of it all, if he hadn’t already had a hold on you, your legs would have given to the earth.

“No—“ you choked out, eyes brimming with tears. It must’ve looked pathetic; the way you placed your only free arm across your exposed breasts. As if any decorum of modesty would spare you. “Please—just kill me. Do nothing else but that. I beg of you.”

Your final sob for mercy reached ears that may as well have been carved of stone. He stalked closer, forcing your lower back to meet the mantled altar behind you. He’d sheathed his weapon, and took both of your hands within one tight grasp, in case you had half a mind to oppose him. You dipped your chin, heaving through a prayer with mournful hics and sniffled utterances. His advancing weight forced your trembling legs to part, and slotting himself between, created a space where your faith could never exist. 

You didn’t want to look at him, or rather, you couldn’t. Tears scorched your vision and seared down the round of your cheeks. You flinched when he took your chin, raising your blurry gaze to meet his. In those darkest of pools, something gave. An insignificant speck of light gleaming into a faint existence. His lips moved, but there was no sound. Instead, you traced the words from the bow of his mouth.

‘Forgive me.’

Your heart clenched. Diluted blood spiked with fear drowned your consciousness. It left no room for thoughts to linger; whether or not you imagined even an ounce of sympathy reflected in those sedated eyes. Whether or not you imagined he said anything at all. 

The entire world scattered away when he brought your face closer, and kissed away the tears staining the corners of your eyes. You fought to pull away, but he held firm, both your chin and hands locked in the cage of his fingers. From your cheeks, he skimmed his ghostly lips to your mouth. He muffled your protestive moans by filling up your mouth with all of his tongue. 

He gave you the salt taste of your own tears. That, and the taste of something else. A saccharine flavor with notes of floral and bitter earth. 

A reaction flourished; a slight tingle of your lips at first. It made his tongue feel hotter against yours, as parts of your upper mouth went numb. A stream of lukewarm paralysis seeped past your soft palate, filling every nook and cranny of your mindscape. Yet, the secondary symptoms didn’t stop there. An opposite wave traversed down your throat to your stomach, spilling fire throughout every layer of nerves. You clenched your lashes tight, shuddering a gasp into his open mouth.

When the pain settled into a dull simmer, you wondered briefly, had he felt it too? Had he consumed such a substance by choice? If that was a taste, what pain did he endure if he drank it like an offering of wine?

You didn’t want to imagine the terrible effects it might’ve had on his person. Not if it gave you even a single drop of sympathy. It was revolting enough his saliva was poisoning your pure sense of self. The fog of it sullying your inhibitions, stripping away your layers of moral preservation. To the absolute vitriolic parts of yourself, it made you consider…

What would it be like to be touched?

It was too sick and cruel of a thing to do to you. Since birth, you’d devoted your body and soul to your divine Goddess; The Golden Sister. You wanted to be disgusted by allowing the gift of yourself to become tainted by some awful man. No—he was worse than that. Or any word you could craft and cut the corners of your mouth with. He was, by biblical history, a Lunari man born from the cataclysmic eclipse of two moons. A day that marked the day of reckoning of the Solari faith and your people.

Your clouded senses and busied mouth made you unaware that his hand left your face to trail the mounds and curves of your body. A light touch drifting to your inner thighs. You jolted when a finger graced the sensitive hood of your exposed clit. Your thighs squirmed at his side as you attempted to jerk your knees. It did nothing and stirred nothing from him. Except bolster his conviction, tempting a finger lower, teasing your folds already glistening.

Although light-headed, you ripped your mouth away and nipped at his lip. It sprang forth droplets of blood, enough to taste his iron on your tongue. A trivial satisfaction. 

“May you burn at dawn,” you condemned and spat at his lips.

Unflinching, he withdrew his hand and brushed over the blood mark you left. Sweeping it across his bottom lip, along with your saliva, he rolled the consistency between his fingers in private contemplation. Before he looked you dead in the eyes and stuck his fingers inside his mouth. Sucking and licking till his fingers dripped. Watching sent a lightning strike coiling down your spine.

He loomed his weight forward until your back met the altar mantle. With your palms pinned above your head, and legs coaxed wider. His coated hand repositioned down to your entrance, and you writhed with any strength your body could lend. His hold wrapped around your wrists squeezed, gentle in its reprimand. He leaned down to brush his face at the side of your cheek.

“Please…for your own sake.” 

Your eyes widened at his frayed whispers stringing together. Breathing life into what seemed like an empty shell of a person. The frigid space between his mouth and your ear kindling with the slightest bit of warmth. It was what you feared the most. Forced to accept he was every bit human, with a horrid courtesy to use polite words and a pleasant, sickening tone. More insult to your injury. You wished he hadn’t spoken at all. Letting you believe in your mind that he was more aberration or phantom. Or anything else that carried not a single hint of a beating heart.

“I don’t want to hurt you…not anyone, really.” Again, comforting yet noxious. And it made whatever was inside you throb so terribly. As if he could sense it, he reached for it. His salivated finger split through your folds, sliding into the heat of your cunt. It elicited a drawn out whimper as you felt the sensual brush of it against a bed of tingling nerves. Gradually revealing a hidden desire you hadn’t wanted to gratify him with.

“But you…and your people…need to accept what can’t be denied any longer.” He punctuated his words with each thrust of his finger as it curved into that crescent shape you despised so much. Yet, you couldn’t deny the way it made your most feminine parts unravel at the seams. ”No matter how high your sun rises, my heavenly moon will always eclipse it. And fill the sun with Her beauty for all to see.“

A hitched whine fluttered past your lips as he easily slipped a second finger. While the heel of his palm pressed in circles, spreading your arousal and stimulating your plumping clit. Your cunt unashamedly sucked on his long fingers, encouraging him to mold and form you into what he needed you to be—a conduit for the undying affections of his faith.

“You might not see it, but the divine path has been shown to me. The one that’s led me to you. You can feel it at least, can’t you?” He flexed his digits and plunged a third finger. Deeper than the last, fuller than before. Your hips rolled forward on their own accord, craving every bit of attention from his touch.

With deliverance, you answered the question with a wail and arch of your back. Your whole body washed its nerves in a blinding heat. His fingers curled and flexed at your hungry walls clenching around him. It pushed a gush of sticky fluid from your twitching hole into his circling palm. Coming down from the spasms, you sobbed at the humiliating response of your body. 

“So you do feel it.” There was a hidden sentiment of relief in his otherwise placid delivery. As if he’d purged the last blot of doubt that restrained him. You swallowed a mouthful of whines as his probing fingers continued undulating inside you. “Your body…it’s begging to devour me in all its warmth. And mine, yearning to take all your bright stars and bathe you by moon glow alone. Wanting us—and only us—to become one.” 

Without warning, he emptied you of his fingers, a filthy squelch following with it. You sucked in a gasp at the crippling cold he left you with. But he wouldn’t abandon you for long. Shifting in the dark haze above you, he unsheathed his length from his garments and pressed himself against your sopping cunt. He dragged his fullness against your swollen and slicked folds. He wasn’t even inside you, yet you felt an agonizing cramp fisting in your stomach. 

“By Her orders, by Her design…” he spoke through tight whispers, strained by his own anticipation. Pressing his full weight down, he hovered mere inches above you, panting bouts of aroused breaths against your lips. “Let us Converge.”

You squirmed and bucked underneath him. “Nn…not with you…anyone but—!”

You broke off into a high-pitched cry as he stretched you open, filling you up till he bottomed out, and pressed up to the hilt of his hips. He silenced both of your newly coupled hymns with his mouth, and each lap of his tongue matched the tempo of his generous thrusts. The sharp, intrusive pinch died as quickly as it came—the insignificant remnants of toxin dulling bits and pieces of certain pain receptive nerves. A gift, perhaps, in this instance. He had also prepped you well enough to accept all of his adoration, as intended. Another gift, as someone of his ‘giving’ nature may phrase it.

Pulling away slowly, the tip of his head rubbed graciously against every ridge of your swelling walls, before languidly pushing back, going past where you seemed to end. Beyond your farthest points you hadn’t thought existed. Pressing and rubbing all your soft spots and cervix with careful deliberation.

Then again, and again, and again.

“Can you feel it…my devotion…” he groaned into your open-mouthed kisses, continuing to work himself inside you. You weren’t even sure if he was speaking to you, or through you to his false Goddess. 

His free hand found the round flesh of your breast, rolling your budded nipple delicately between the pad of his thumb and index. The other hand, squeezing at your captured wrists, but never tight enough to bruise. He had you lulling in a spellbinding rhythm underneath him, your hands fastened above your head, and hair spilling over the opposite side of the altar. When his mouth left your full lips, he possessed the nape of your neck, sucking the delicate skin above your life line. Your mewls, laced with the chasteless sounds of his base squelching at your entrance, leapt your pulse to an unreturnable pace.

“So warm,” he moaned low, staving off a growing need to revel in his own whines of ecstasy. “This pure sunlight of yours…I’m blessed to be the one who takes it. And you should be too. What an honor it is to be of service to my moon.”

You wanted to hate everything about it. The way he kissed you, the way he moved inside you—but you couldn’t. Every stiff and engorged part of him pressed almost lovingly against your most vulnerable parts; but that wasn’t the proper word for it. His affectionate caresses were zealous in origin. Not even for you. And boderlined a hedonistic doctrine you couldn’t describe. It would’ve been better if he were a man of barbaric qualities; rough and brutal. Not purposeful and diligent and—dared you admit it—tender. If he were the former, then your disgust could be justified, and your body would refuse him in its own rightful way. But it defied you, the lecherous thing. Insisting you melted beneath him and reduce to nothing but a drenched mess. Completely at the mercy of this Lunari man’s act of worship.

“Are you finally realizing it now? How generous my Goddess is compared to yours.” He abandoned the curve of your throat. Within the flush of his face, his eyes were suppled in absolute vindication at your shameless image. “How willing you are to accept me—to accept Her.”   

“N-No…I’m…not…I won’t,” you pried your tongue for words.

He drawled out a quivering whine from your mouth. His body picking up to an impassioned pace, rutting into your sweltering heat. Tethering on his own abandoned pleasure. Your legs pushed themselves wider, opening yourself up more for him, drawing him deeper to pound against the tender knot growing in your belly. 

Choked moans tightened in his throat. Your radiance gripped him with conviction, burning him so divinely from tip to base. Dragging him closer to your complete consummation. His fingers caught the contour of your face, tilting your head back. Your already swimming eyes rolled to follow, and watered at the sight of your Solari Goddess. Carved out from the temple wall, her sacred marbled gaze met your disgraceful expressions. 

“That’s…hn…alright. You can lie to me. I’ll—we’ll always forgive you. But can you say the same for your deity? As she watches her little sunlight being pleasured by the moon’s devoted weapon. I—ha…doubt it very much.” An airy laugh cut through his thick moans intertwined with yours. He continued, inhaling and exhaling his words, raspy and down right broken. “It’s—almost our time…as reverence…your insides…with all of my…”

You couldn’t refuse the vile implication of his words. Not when his thickened, throbbing cock lapped achingly against your muddled core. Your blood boiled, draining out from your collapsing bodily veins to well up inside your stomach. Applying a pressure that made you want to burst into unmendable fractals of yourself. And you did—that tight knot broke in an instant, dilating your insides in a blaze of heat. Flooding you so wholly, you almost forgot to breathe through your delirious sobs of release. 

When the smooth ridges of your walls clamped down, you heard it first as a moan of afflicted surrender on his part. Then, the cock buried inside you pulsed. A stream of white-hot fluid poured into you, shooting well past your cervix, bathing your womb with his warmth. But he didn’t stop there, continuing to indulge. He pumped and pushed the concoction of unified fluids till it poured past his base, and dripped in milky heaps from your hole. His pelvic and abdominal muscles shuddered as his hips rolled slowly but needingly, nursing himself through his over-stimulating climax.

From your tearful, half-lidded gaze, you witnessed a wet glisten in his own eyes. Whether induced by overwhelming pleasure or pained remorse, you would never know. You didn’t want to know.

It didn't matter.

They evaporated the moment he blinked again.

When the heaves and pants subsided, only the echoes of your whimpers remained. Unfastening his grasp from your wrists, his icy hands cupped your sulking face, idly running his thumbs across your soaked cheeks.

“I understand your pain. Believe me, I do. But no amount of tears will keep the celestial cycle from shifting in the moon’s favor. Like any phase, there will be a moment when you won’t hate me as you do now. You might even come to...love me.”

The way he paused made it seem he had no sense for the word. Or what the difference was between what was love and obsession. The look he possessed didn’t instill solace, either; his eyes mere slits of black against his porcelain face. Promising the moment you dared turn away from him, the back of your neck would bleed.

”I swear to you. From this night on, you’ll burn brightest by my reflection. And only my reflection. So long as there's breath and blood in this body, I’ll protect your sunlight from ever fading in the hands of anyone less deserving than mine. By cosmic fate, you’re my entire purpose, my entire existence...” he bent and kissed the solar marking painted on your forehead. “My orbit.” 

[ownedbythescribe]

Kaveh | Lily In Your Heart

ıllı Synopsis: Against his overwhelming guilt, how willing is Kaveh to take in your affection? Push. Pull. Such is the relationship between you two, yet you remained patient. You hoped that one day, he will finally open his heart again.

ıllı Genre: Angst, Comfort, Romance

ıllı Notes: Gender Neutral Reader

ıllı Warnings: Spoilers for Kaveh’s Character Story and Khvarena of Good and Evil World Quest, Mention of blood, Cursing

ıllı A/N: This story has been plaguing my mind since I read Kaveh’s character story. I knew I just had to write something about. I’m really happy with how it turned out. (P.S: I love this man so much!)

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have— It should have been me! It’s all my fault! If only I didn’t wish for anything.” He cried, reaching his hand to the forgotten past. Tears streamed down his cheeks as his eyes searched around for hope, but there was nothing.

I stood behind his quivering visage, the words dying on my lips. It was not because I did not know what to say, but the fact that whatever I utter would never reach his ears. From experience, I already knew this was a dream, a memory I garnered from that man.

“Time stops for no one. Not even for him. Hopes and dreams twinkle in every being, but his has started to dim. Reality will catch up to him, one way or another. He cannot turn a blind eye to it for so long.” A gentle voice remarked. I turned to the small figure hovering beside me and greeted her with a nod.

We watched until the memory faded away like sands blown by the wind. It was an indicator of the dream ending. My companion flew in front of me and wiped the tears that had unknowingly trickled down my cheeks.

“Your heart is too pure, (Y/N). I hope you would not lose sight of what is important.” She muttered. I could only offer a small smile to which she returned with an exasperated sigh.

As customary, Sumeru City (known as the Central Hub of Knowledge and Wisdom) was bustling with activity. Students from the Akademiya rushed out to get their businesses and research outside done while others chatted with their friends about topics that were discussed by distinguished professors of the institution. Merchants, on the other hand, hollered the prices of their goods, enticing the common people with the benefits their products bring. There were also children and travelers littering the street of the city. What a mundane scene it was.

Currently, you were trudging up the path to the Sanctuary of Surasthana to report to the Dendro Archon. Lesser Lord Kusanali personally requested your assistance with an issue in the Vourukasha Oasis. According to her, the Traveler had come in contact with the Order of Skeptics (Nagarjunites) and the Pari who required their cooperation with regard to the Sign of Apaosha, which was the sealing in the hole in the sky. The beautiful shade of purple and green in the sky might look captivating to adventurers and travelers, but it held a foreboding essence that kept anyone near it on their toes. In fact, for those who were aware, the Harvisptokhm (the tree emitting the green light) prevented the abyssal power from crashing down on the desert of Sumeru.

“I can’t believe Zurvan and Fedhri kept these from me. I would have aided them should they— I swear, they’re treating me like a child too much.” You rasped. A frown marred your face at the thought of their actions. Before you could ponder more, you reached the sanctuary. It exuded an ethereal aura that you could not help but stand in awe.

Entering in caution, you spotted the person you were looking for. Nahida turned around after hearing the door open and greeted you with a smile. Her companion courteously nodded his head to which you returned with a bow. Taking out the report, you informed her of the current status of the area. Similar to what you gained from the Traveler, the seal at the Tunigi Hollow was indeed weakening. It was only a matter of time before it collapsed. You were unsure how many Pari were left in the oasis due to the inability to visit them, but they might have decreased in number considering the number of plumes of light scattered in Gavireh Lajavard alone.

“Singly from your assessment, the situation must be dire. I’d advise waiting out a report from the Traveler before joining them on their journey. A part of you must be concerned as to why the Pari kept this from you, right?”Nahida started. You looked down in contempt, unable to deny her words. It hurt that they hid it from you, but there must be a reason behind it. As much as you wished to join the Traveler immediately, it would be better if they continue with their progress first to get a better hold of the affair at hand.

“All right. You may dispatch me when you deem it safe for me to go. And don’t worry. I also feel like it’s my duty to see this through.” You grinned at the archon. Nahida returned the gesture before pivoting to her companion, whom you remembered as Wanderer, to give out orders. He did not bat an eye at your stature, but you knew he was aware of your presence. And maybe more.

Stepping out of the sanctuary, you were met with the cool breeze sweeping through your hair. It slowly calmed your nerves, allowing you to take in the sight of the vast rainforest ahead. Somehow, it reminded you of the first time you came into Teyvat. The slightly cold yet inviting waters of the Amrita streamed down your immaculate skin as your lunar eyes skimmed through the vibrant flora that surrounded your visage. The Pari were the first beings who greeted you, and they were the ones who introduced everything Teyvat had to offer. Albeit, it was not the best time years ago, they still did their utmost best.

“Got another mission from the Lesser Lord?” A baritone voice asked, cutting through your thoughts. You glanced to the side and saw Alhaitham walking up while reading his physics book. You were definitely sure he read that particular book several times already.

“Yep! But I have to wait for a couple more days for the Traveler to report back to Nahi— I mean Lesser Lord Kusanali.” You coughed. He shook his head at your cover-up. It was no secret that you have a unique relationship with the Dendro Archon. However, you did not fancy the misconception others might procure should you call her so familiarly, so you opted to call the young goddess by her title.

Alhaitham settled beside you and hummed in acknowledgment. The mission did not involve him, so there was no need for a fuss. The Lesser Lord trusted your capabilities enough to request your support. Small talks were added here and there until you asked him a peculiar question.

“How is Kaveh these days?” The Acting Grand Sage was caught off-guard. He presumed you would implore if Kaveh was available for dinner, walk, or another activity to drag the man into. A chuckle escaped your lips at his stupefied face, already guessing what was running through his head.

“Hmph. Can’t say much, but he’s been the same as usual. Loud and obnoxious. Last time, he even nagged about the dusty books in the living room while I had guests around. The audacity of that guy.” He huffed indignantly, quite agitated by his roommate.

There it was, Alhaitham’s infamous sharp tongue. It always amused you how they could tell each other’s flaws and strengths out loud without mercy (much so with the gray-haired male). One saw a reality he could not perceive for himself, while the other the guilt he had been running away from. Through constant understanding of each other, they forged a path only they could tread.

“Of course, you’ll say that. However, I’m glad that I can finally see diverse emotions on your face now. It seems like Kaveh is a good influence on you. Maybe not the gullible part, but you get what I mean.” You teased. Alhaitham gave you a deadpan look, shaking his head at your antics.

“And how about you? Aren’t you going to invite Kaveh somewhere? You’ve always been on his tail for as long as I recall.” He voiced. You smiled wryly and told him that your current mission needed to be prioritized. It still bothered you why the elder Pari kept the issue in the oasis from you. Alhaitham might not know the whole story about your past, but he understood that the situation may be appalling for you to be making such faces. However, he also had no intention to meddle in supernatural beings’ problems. It would be better to leave it in your hands, knowing that in no time, it would be resolved.

After chatting for a little bit more, you bid him farewell and went to the Grand Bazaar. Nilou was, once again, performing a spectacular dance up on the stage. Her fans kept growing every single day since art was unbanned from the Akademiya. It elated you to see the theatre flourish and have more people appreciate art.

“Hmm? Is that Faruzan?” You mumbled, tilting your head in confusion as to why the Haravatat scholar was in the area.

Walking towards her, you noticed unique books and scrolls being sold by an old man casually sipping tea. They all appeared ancient and valuable, so you decided to check around as well. Faruzan, who was finally out of her stupor, greeted you with vigor. She informed you that the items being sold were famous a hundred years ago, during her time. It piqued your interest, and as you scanned the booth, you found two blueprints from the desert. Kaveh would love it, you thought.

“Is that for Kaveh?” Faruzan asked.

“Why is he the first thing you’d ask? It could be for myself.” You defended. She gave you a blank stare and reasoned out that there was no way you would study complicated prints like that. Rather, you would choose research on elements or pastime novels to scrutinize.

Sighing, you conceded and admitted that it was indeed for the Kshahrewar graduate. She grinned and then paid for her stuff before asking you to join her window shop and eat dinner. Although you would prefer to spend the rest of the day alone, it would help clear your head of worries by frolicking with the cyan-haired scholar around.

“Let’s go! I’ve got a lot to talk about. Let’s start with my latest one. Do you remember Tamimi? So, the Traveler and I went to the desert to….” You let her trail, happy to listen to her rambles.

Kaveh never anticipated his life to end up like this. The memories of his father passing and his mother remarrying in Fontaine (leaving the blond alone) still hunted him to this day. He thought that with compassion and hard work, he would be happy once more, but chasing after a fantasy he called dreams brought him despondency and frustration.

Soon, Kaveh found himself in debt after finishing his magnum opus, the Palace of Alcazarzaray. It became the talk of the town, but hearsays neglected the story behind it. The Light of Ksharehwar (a title that did not sway him) had to pour out his whole savings after an unfortunate event, including his old home (if he could even call a building whose warmth has long extinguished home that is). It cost him arms and legs to finish the project, but he was a martyr who offered his entire fortune to the altar of ideals.

When the Kshahrewar graduate lost his home, he entered a period of melancholy. He was directionless, empty even. Lambad's Tavern became his temporary home. Searching for inspiration became his excuse whenever his acquaintances found him sitting at a lone table by the tavern. When discussing life matters, you and Alhaitham were the hot topic of their talks. He remembered the Scribe due to their joint research years ago, but he did not recognize you. His associates only had a few things to say about you, but they were always about your peculiar aura, behavior, and understanding of the world. That fact flew over his head as the alcohol distorted his thoughts.

Coincidentally, Kaveh met you and Alhaitham in the tavern days later. The latter hoped to have a well-deserved dinner and alcohol. Both of you could tell that he was in a bad situation, and that faithful night, Kaveh poured out his woes. Alhaitham listened intently to his words. On the other hand, you attempted to converse with the blond, who already seemed drunk from a few cups of rose wine.

"Then, how has realizing your ideals gone for you?" The Scribe asked. Kaveh was silent. He did not know what reality to accept anymore. What he yearned for was a fantasy, but in your eyes, it was stupid altruism that only hurt him. Still, he firmly believed in his ideals, even at the cost of losing himself. It was out of instinct, but you found yourself reaching out a hand to sweep away the tears that slid down his cheeks. His will drew you to the man. Alhaitham noticed the strange gesture and turned to you in confusion, but he found you floored and shedding tears.

"Hey, are you all right?" He asked, concerned about your well-being.

"His... His memories hit me hard. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have touched him so carelessly." You groaned, feeling dizzy at the barrage of memories. As for the blond, he was already passed out on the table, unaware of the predicament he caused. Taking out the handkerchief, you wiped away the dampness in your cheeks. At that moment, the seed of affection had already grown in your heart.

The following day, Alhaitham offered his home to the blond. It was your suggestion, and he found himself agreeing. Most likely because he saw in Kaveh a mirror of himself, projecting what he both possessed and lacked. He had a part of the Scribe that he once imagined, one of the truths he had been searching for. The way he expressed his emotion so openly, his strange intellect and perseverance, as well as his humility amidst illusory altruism drew him in. But in no way would he let Kaveh know any of that lest he inflated his nonexistent ego.

Kaveh continued to live as he was before, but now, with a house to come back to. He would now connect with his friends with an ecstatic aura around him. However, there was one enigma that he could not fathom, more like he could not accept because of trepidation. It was you.

Kaveh believed he should not fall in love because how could he when he only hurt those people around him? Even when he drank and shared moments with Alhaitham, Cyno, and Tighnari, he kept a part of him at arm's length from them. But you? You kept on reaching out to him. Inviting him to stroll around the Avidya Forest, asking him out for dinner in Lambad's Tavern, and enticing him with rare blueprints from the desert that he had not seen before. He realized your intentions, and if he was to be honest, he also learned to like you. Your radiant aura charmed him, but it felt wrong for him.

He surmised it to be the guilt that never left his side.

"Hey, Kaveh! Your head is in the clouds again. The food's getting cold! Eat up." Tighnari nagged. Kaveh blinked owlishly before sheepishly grabbing one panipuri and dipping it in the sauce. He took his wine and watched Alhaitham and Cyno play. The match was heating up, and none of them seemed ready to give up any time soon.

"So, I heard that (Y/N) fancies you? What do you say about that?" The Forest Watcher teased. The blond choked on his wine and reddened, spouting that he could never accept your affection. Tighnari raised an eyebrow at that.

"And why is that?" He pushed.

"It's better if they choose another person than me. I admit that (Y/N) is an outstanding person, but they're too much for me. I... Sometimes, it feels like they know me too much. It's unsettling, but maybe it's just me. I don't want to lead them on." He confessed, keeping the truth to himself. It was better for him to take that secret to the grave.

Alhaitham, with half of his mind in the game, furrowed his eyebrows at his roommate's words. He wanted to voice out his opinions, but your secrets were yours to tell. As for Tighnari, he was about to argue against it when his eyes zeroed in on your stunned figure. His eyes widened in realization. Surely, you heard Kaveh considering you were just a few tables away. Kaveh was confused by his expression until he turned around. There you were, fiddling with your fingers while sporting a pained smile.

Faruzan glanced at you in worry, but you meekly laughed and walked towards their table. Alhaitham was about to greet you when you shook your head and set down the blueprints you found in the bazaar.

"It must have been disturbing. I'm sorry about that. Please take this as my last gift. I'll stay out of your sight for your sake." You murmured. Kaveh flinched and stammered an answer. Under normal circumstances, this would have made you laugh, but your lips quivered from the ache your heart endured. If you say anything else, you were afraid you would break down eventually. Without hesitation, you bowed down and left the tavern.

The Haravatat female whipped her head back to the younger male and glared at him. She gritted her teeth in anger, ready to speak her mind, but she chose to rush out of the building and catch up to you. Kaveh winced at his mistake and abruptly stood from his chair to see if he could apologize, but there was no sign of you outside. Only the buzz of the insects and the murmur of people in the tavern surrounded him.

'You idiot! How could you be so... Ugh!'

Kaveh went back inside solemnly, unable to erase the disheartened look on your face. His heart was heavy with guilt, another misfortune to add to his increasing list. Tighnari noticed the forlorn gleam in his eyes and discerned that his friend failed to apologize and explain himself. Suddenly, a loud sigh could be heard from beside them. Alhaitham precipitously stood up and glowered at him.

“I’m opposed to taking sides in arguments, but how could you let your mouth run like that? And unsettling, you say? You know none of what they’ve been through, fool. Ugh, you irritate me. Don’t even bother coming home.” He spat, leaving the tavern bitterly. It was the first time the Kshahrewar graduate saw his roommate mad. Their usual banter could not even compare to the intensity the Acting Grand Sage exuded.

Cyno turned to Kaveh and consoled him that he could stay in his home in Gandharve Ville for tonight. It was best to reflect on his words before confronting you and Alhaitham about it. Stunned, he could only nod. Tighnari, who was confused by the ordeal, inferred that there was more to you than meets the eye. Based on Alhaitham's claims, he clearly knew something they did not.

“I… I’ll go look for them tomorrow and ask for their forgiveness. They did not deserve that and… Alhaitham's right. How could I call them creepy? I’m so stupid.” He ruefully laughed. The two eyed each other in worry.

The following day, Kaveh roamed the city in search of you. His first stop was the Akademiya. His stomach squeezed in discomfort at the sight of the institution looming over his figure. Memories of his academic days resurfaced, and it was anything but happy. With a heavy sigh, he entered the place and asked the students present in the hall.

"Hi, I hope it's not a bother to ask, but do you know (Y/N)? Is it possible if you could tell me where they are right now?" He adjured.

"(Y/N)? Umm... Oh, is it that creepy senior?" One of the students piped. Kaveh furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and perturbation. Another student recognized the name and confirmed that it was indeed the same person.

"What do you mean?" Kaveh muttered. The young ones before him glanced at each other before recalling their experience with you. It was a year ago when one of them had the opportunity to work with you. As a graduate of your desired Darshan, you did not mind having a junior join you in your research and work outside the Akademiya. However, it was during your journey with them that they noticed your strange behavior which included weirdly knowing their likes and dislikes (they did not explicitly say anything), understanding their emotions, and reading them like an open book. Although there were times when they see you wear gloves or refuse to come into contact with others. You would use the excuse that you were dirty or sick when it did not look the part.

"I still can't believe I survived working under them. I still feel shivers down my spine for how eerie they were. Why are they even part of the Akademiya?" The younger male pointed. Kaveh had enough of his ill words and shook his head. He gave them a cold thanks and left, but not before leaving aggravated words to his juniors.

"You shouldn't bad-mouth your seniors like that just because they could read you like an open book. Your emotions show in your face, stupid."

To say they were flabbergasted by Kaveh's change in attitude was an understatement, but he was too irritated to care. The lack of disrespect did not sit well with him. You worked diligently and would always dedicate a portion of your time to assisting your juniors. How could they treat you as such just because you were not like the others?

"Maybe the professors will know." He mumbled, but even the instructors in the Akademiya shrugged their shoulders, oblivious to your whereabouts. So, he decided to check the Grand Bazaar for any sightings only to come up empty-handed. It was when he noticed a familiar item being sold by an old man casually eating candied nuts.

"Ho? Why hello there, young man. Are you interested in these? Aya, you remind me of the youngster who brought the pricey ones yesterday. They were with a friend who teased them about it. Something about gifting it to the person they fancied? Hohoho, how youthful." He cheered. Kaveh pieced his words together and realized that it was you he was talking about. In his mind, he questioned why you were willing to go to lengths just to receive his affection. It did not make sense to him, and his curiosity pushed him to seek you.

"I'm... taking this one, please. And they sound like a wonderful person." He responded. The old man guffawed once more.

"They are, indeed. What a blessing for me to see a young spirit like them. Hohoho!" He murmured, a flicker of nostalgia present in his sunken eyes. Kaveh caught his words and was about to ask if he could expound on it, but the old man was gone as well as the things he sold. It was like he did not exist in the first place.

'What the....' He was sure he slept well and did not take any strange medications from Tighnari. Was it the stress?

No one from the bazaar seemed to notice what happened, so he merely shook his head and slowly backed away from the place. He carried on with his search for you. However, it was as if you disappeared that night without anyone's knowledge.

Three days later, he sought and asked Faruzan for your whereabouts despite her displeasure with him. She let out an exasperated sigh and meekly answered that she did not catch up to you. When she visited your home, you were not there. Fear crept up in his heart. He did not know where to look for you anymore, then he recalled another person he could consult.

Three knocks on the door, and a 'Come in' echoed from the other side.

"Tch. Now, what brings you here?" Alhaitham sneered. Kaveh winced internally at his temper.

"(Y/N), please tell me where they are." He begged. The Acting Grand Sage placed the quill down and bore his eyes in his own. The architect could feel himself crumble under his intense gaze but remained firm. An apology was in order, and there was no excuse not to do so.

"Why? So that you could hurt them again as those bastards did? So that their heart will be torn once again? Tell me, Kaveh, why should I tell you where they are?" He challenged. Kaveh bit his lower lip in frustration. He disliked Alhaitham's protective nature over you, but he understood where he was coming from. The only question in his mind was what the Acting Grand Sage meant by hurting you again. What happened years ago? For now, he should justify himself in front of the man.

"I... have no excuse. I indeed found how they know me so well disturbing. I don't know how or why, but I want to find out. I also want to apologize. No matter what, they did not deserve that. I feel so guilty, Alhaitham. Please understand that there are a lot of things I'm scared to face. I—" He stopped. Clenching his fist tightly nicked his skin, and blood stained his palm. A loud sigh was heard from the man in front of him.

"Vourukasha Oasis. They briefly mentioned it after begging the Dendro Archon to send them to the desert earlier than planned. Now get out of my office. You've wasted enough of my time." Alhaitham glared. Kaveh, although with difficulty, expressed his gratitude and left immediately.

'Did I do the right thing?' Alhaitham thought to himself. He picked up his quill and resumed his work. It would be up to you whether you would talk to Kaveh or not anyway.

The architect, eager to see you, asked Mehrak for the quickest route to the oasis. His eyes bulged at the distance. He would have to cross the Desert of Hadramaveth and pass Gavireh Lajavard before reaching the Realm of Farakhkert. It was a mystery to him how you reached the oasis in such a small amount of time.

"All right. There's no time to lose!" He muttered, encouraging himself.

The Desert of Hadramaveth seemed clearer to tread now unlike before. He recalled the sandstorm in the region to be harsh and dangerous. Mehrak beeped and warned him that there were Eremites ahead of them. He prepared his weapon and battled his way through. It took him a day and a half just to reach the Sands of Three Canals.

"Mehrak, map please." Kaveh requested, huffing in exhaustion from the long walk they did. Mehrak chimed and projected the map of Sumeru. His eyes squinted at the sight of the Tunigi Hollow and recalled the rumors of a lost Darshan present in the area. From what he remembered, they were called the Order of Skeptics, and they split from the Akademiya due to an incident years ago. There were rumors of internal conflict within the Order, and he wondered what made several of their members side with the Abyss. Desires fueled by evil intent would only result in downfall.

After mapping his route, he resumed his journey. The sand was getting in his shoes, but he shrugged it off and glanced around for danger. It was until he reached the Temir Mountains did he notice the Traveler, Paimon, and another strange creature in the distance. Paimon creased her forehead at his figure and realized it was their architect friend.

"Oh! It's Kaveh. Hey, what are you doing here?" She asked.

"It's nice to see you again. I'm looking for someone. They're a scholar from the Akademiya who goes by the name (Y/N). Have you, in any possible case, encountered them?" Kaveh hoped. The three peered at each other, immediately recognizing your name.

"Why are you looking for (Y/N)? They are back in the oasis, helping out the Pari. By them, I mean this little one over here." Traveler responded, pointing at the scarlet avian-like creature beside them. Before Kaveh could say a thing, another Pari came rushing in. She seemed to be panicking, and by the time she reached them, she poured her worries about you fighting off a bunch of Fatui soldiers.

"(Y/N) is fighting a lot of bad people! It was so scary! I am not sure if they could handle it. Please, Sister Sorush, Yasnapati, Pale Floaty, you've got to save them!" She cried. Kaveh, alarmed by it, pleaded to the Pari to guide him instead. She tilted her head in confusion and demanded who he was.

"Kaveh, my name is Kaveh. I am their friend. Please let me help them." He sought. Sefana examined the architect and ascertained his sincerity. Unlike the humans she encountered, the man before her was earnest and willing to help. She meekly nodded and flew off. Kaveh followed suit, not bothering to listen to the Traveler.

Kaveh arrived at the site only to see a deserted camp, empty of the claimed ferocious Fatui soldiers. Turning to the side, he found you wiping the dust out of your clothes. He blinked owlishly at the sight, confused by the whole ordeal.

"Now, let's go back and ask Zurvan what in Teyvat she was thinking of keeping these from me." You huffed out loud, extinguishing the Hvarna in your hand. But when you spun around, your eyes met that of his crimson ones. You flinched and asked what they were doing in such a dangerous place.

"Especially you, Sefana. Zurvan is going to scold Sorush and me should you stay here. Don't worry about me, I'll be back in a few." You assured the Pari. She rushed to you and hugged your head before heading back to the oasis.

Once she was gone, you gazed back to Kaveh. You sheepishly apologized that he caught sight of you again, so you walked away before he could utter anything. Suddenly, you felt a tight grip on your wrist. You were about to ask what was wrong when he stammered a response. A moment of silence reigned over you two before he found his voice.

"I'm truly sorry about what I said. I... I was just confused and scared because how do you know so much about me? How do you know what to say? I already lost a lot in my life, (Y/N). If it's not evident enough, I'm as miserable as there is. I feel so guilty receiving your affection, so please, just hate me." He begged. You were stunned until you could not hold the amusement in your lips. He was confused by your outburst before you utilized the power of Hvarna and projected your ability.

"I could never despise you, Kaveh. Not in a million or thousand years." You replied, mirth dancing in your eyes.

Bubbles of memories appeared before him. He saw his own and was astonished by the sight. You floated by his side and pointed at one of the memories that made you fall in love with him. It was the time he poured out blood and tears to finish the Palace of Alcazarzaray even when Dori sneered at him for wasting her time and Mora.

"What are you, (Y/N)?" He genuinely asked.

"Hmm, are you sure you can handle what I am, Light of Kshahrewar?" You teased, a lilt echoing in your words. He nodded, eager to understand you.

With a satisfied sigh, you dispersed the bubble of memories and presented your own recollection, mostly those that you remember. Time was cruel. It eroded a number of your beautiful memories.

"I am a Lunar Spirit born from the Amrita, it's the pure water present in the Vourushka Oasis. I grew alongside the Pari, guardians of the oasis meant to protect Sumeru from the Abyss. We have a duty to purify those affected by abyssal corrosion. However, centuries ago, I asked the elder Pari to let me roam Teyvat and learn about the world. I settled in Sumeru for some time. Several people knew my identity such as the Lesser Lord Kusanali, Alhaitham, Wanderer, Traveler, Paimon, and now, you. To answer why I knew so much of you is because of my power as an empath." You explained. Because of your origin, your ability as an empath was amplified. It allowed you to see several memories when you touch people. Kaveh's eyes widened. Now, he discerned the reason for your actions.

"At first, it was just to help you get over your guilt, but eventually, I fell in love with you. I wanted you to know that you also deserve love and happiness and that there is no need for pain to lighten the guilt. I am sure that your family also wishes for you to be happy, Kaveh. What happened in the past was not your fault. Fate... can be fickle, that's all I can say. Your journey as of now may not have been the smoothest, and you remained firm with your ideals. That's the beauty of living. So, I hope that... with my help, you'll open your heart again. Allow yourself to truly feel." You sullenly voiced. Kaveh stared at your form and then at the oasis not far from them. It was strange to have someone figure out the truth he had been running away from. Maybe it was time for him to give his happiness a chance. It might take him a long time, but he would like to take the risk.

Gaining a bit of courage, he turned to you and inquired.

"Will it be all right if I tread this path with you by my side?" This time, it was your turn to flush red at his confession.

"Are you all right having a strange significant other like me?" Anxiety laced your tone. Kaveh reached for your hand and intertwined it with his.

"I couldn't have asked for more."

BONUS:

After your sincere apologies and heartfelt confession, you two returned to the oasis and met up with Zurvan. You demanded an explanation from the elder Pari why they hid it from you, and she explained that your duty was to purify the Amrita pool and energize the Harvisptokhm once it had been healed. She thought that it was not yet the time to do it until Sorush came rushing back with the need to purge the problem.

Moments later, Traveler, Paimon, and Sorush arrived, the latter having a deadpan look on her face. They were right that Sefana failed to assess the situation properly and quickly ran to them for help. Mere Fatui soldiers would not be enough to bring you down.

"Speaking of them. Hey, Traveler, Paimon, Sorush! Over here! I see you've attacked the source of the problem. Thank you!" You cheered. Paimon floated to you and asked if they have to do more.

"Don't worry. Leave the last part to me. You can stand there with Kaveh and the others." You directed.

After walking a few feet from them, you concentrated the Hvarna in your chest. A power, unknown to those watching, accumulated until it burst and went underground. The flora around them became vibrant. Kaveh witnessed a spectacular sight, but one scene that would forever be etched in his mind was your divine look under the mystical glow of the oasis.

Zurvan recognized the look in Kaveh's crimson eyes and asked if he could truly love somebody like you. He was caught off guard by the elder Pari, but he took a deep breath and firmly stated that he would cherish you. The guilt harboring in his heart had been released, and you were the reason for it. It was time he let go of that and choose his happiness this time.

"How bold, human. However, I shall permit. Take care of our Little Lily. They deserve every ounce of love there is to offer." She said.

"That they do." Kaveh agreed, watching the scene before him with contentment.

"Kaveh! Come here! We can bring this home according to Sefana." You gleefully claimed, taking in two Sunyata flower stalks in your arms.

'Home, huh? It's been such a long time since I heard that word earnestly, but with you in it? Yes, I would love to call wherever you are my home.' He thought before joining you, his happiness.

Please do not copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

[modern--nights]

Verily, the Lasombra stand as chieftains and seers, monarchs and sages, warriors and holy men. They weigh with care who merits the Embrace, yet show no mercy to those of their ilk who prove unworthy. Indeed, the sole menace to the dominion of clan Lasombra may well be clan Lasombra itself. Montano, eldest childe of Lasombra, now governs from the distant Castle of Shadows in Sicily, his rule extending as a shadow over his Sire's troubled repose, haunted by visions of darkness and the Abyss.

Deep-rooted in religious fervor, perchance due to their profound affinity with shadows, many among the Clan tread the Path of Heaven. This fervent piety kindles strife within the Clan, turning their gaze inward. In Iberia, the Shadow Reconquista rages—a clash between Christian and Muslim Cainites, dividing the Clan. Its echoes reverberate far beyond Iberia, ensnaring distant allies. Christian Lasombra within the Church rally resources for Christian forces, whilst Muslim brethren seek alliances, especially with the Assamites. They implore their Jewish kin to join their cause, for fear of dire reprisal should Christians seize power in Iberia.

Yet, the schism without mirrors the schism within. The Cainite Heresy festers within the Church, a heretical cult dominated by Lasombra priests and bishops. These apostates claim Cainites, marked by God, akin to angelic beings, with the Curse of Caine sanctifying them. Naturally, even non-Christian Lasombra decry this doctrine as blasphemy, striving to expunge such heresy wherever it takes root.

Moniker: Magisters Visage: The Clan of Shadows boasts a diverse assembly, with members hailing from Spanish, Italian, Jewish, North African, or Arabian lineages. Most Lasombra garb themselves in opulent attire, bedecked in silks from the Orient, sumptuous French brocades, or the resplendent fabrics of Arabia. Even those within the Church, though it eschews worldly riches, often don regal vestments befitting their high station.

Refuge and Quarry: Some affluent Lasombra opt to dwell amidst their familial estates, masking their true nature to retain control over their holdings. Here, they find ample sustenance amidst kin, servants, and retainers. Others, averse to the complications of concealment amongst throngs of mortals, establish solitary abodes of opulence, sacrificing convenience for secrecy and security. Some adherents of the Cainite Heresy feed upon their congregants, veiling their actions as sacred rites. Nonetheless, such practices demand utmost discretion, lest they incur the wrath of more orthodox Christian Lasombra.

The Embrace: Lasombra often select their progeny from among the affluent, powerful, or politically astute. Yet, Magisters may equally embrace those of humble origins, whose ambition and intellect shine bright. Birth alone cannot gauge one's mettle or capacity for leadership.

Clan Disciplines: Dominate, Obtenebration, Potence Weaknesses: Lasombra cast no reflection in reflective surfaces, rendering it arduous to conceal their supernatural essence from mortals. Moreover, they recoil from bright light, suffering additional harm from sunlight.

Organization: Within the Clan exists the Amici Noctis, the Friends of Night—an exclusive fraternity admitting only those who have proven their worth to the Clan. Presiding over the Courts of Blood, the Amici Noctis grants leave for Amaranth, serving as the final arbiter of its application. Unsanctioned Amaranth invites swift retribution, as decreed by the Amici Noctis. Predominant in central Europe, Montano staunchly opposes the Friends of Night, forbidding their presence in Sicily and the Castle of Shadows. In Iberia, the Shadow Reconquista impedes the Amici Noctis's authority, rendering it powerless to quell the discord.

Stereotypes: High Clans: A meaningless distinction, espoused by the equally pointless. Our ascendancy stems from merit, not lineage. Their classification as High or Low speaks volumes of their discernment. Low Clans: Let other High Clans spurn them. Only a fool rejects a valuable asset or indispensable ally. Assamites: More akin are we to the Children of Haqim than to most others. Let prejudice blind others. They are honorable and worthy allies. Ventrue: The Scions misconstrue power and position, to their detriment. Let them pursue lofty ambitions; it renders them pliable. Followers of Set: Let them strive to revive worship of their defunct deity. Time marches on, and those who resist progress are trampled beneath its stride. Tzimisce: Godless pagans, one and all. They spurned the chance to forsake their heathen ways. While we acknowledge their might, we cannot place our trust in them.

[monocaelia]

feat. roommate childe

note : this is just a tiny brainrot because i needed to get this out of my head or i would have exploded haha....

your roommate... was undeniably handsome.

you couldn't refute that even if it would have made his head bigger than it already is. your other friends had always gushed to you about how lucky you were to have such a pretty roommate, but you brushed their comments off. even if he was attractive, he wasn't your type.

messy orange hair that always fell in the right places despite how he slept, a single dimple in his cheek when he grins at his fullest, freckles that litter his skin as if he was kissed by the goddess of stars herself.

honestly, you wouldn't have batted an eye towards him, if it weren't for the fact that he has been invading your thoughts and driving you near insane because of it.

the first time you came to this conclusion was when you arrived home to the sight of your roommate in his boxers, your face nearly erupted from the heat that trickled from your chest to your face. the skin on his thigh, pale and milky, looked soft to the touch and you caught a glimpse of his stomach with the way he was laying down. his red hoodie had slipped up because of his position, giving you a hint of his skin, but you quickly averted your eyes when you realized you were ogling your poor roommate.

"ch-childe!" you stuttered out, flustered from seeing the sight in front of you. "what are you doing?!"

your roommate could only hum nonchalantly, continuing to mindlessly scroll through his phone as if he wasn't giving you a heart attack at that moment.

"is it a crime to relax in the comfort of my own home?" he replied, finally sparing a glance at you. however, your flustered appearance garnered his full attention.

deep blue focused on you, staring holes into your visage, but you couldn't muster the strength to look back at him. not with his messy hair and freckles that dust his cheeks like the stars in the endless night sky that you love so dearly.

before he could ask you what was wrong, you excused yourself into your room and twisted the lock in place in case he decided to heckle you some more.

from then on, you became hyperaware of how... attractive your roommate was and how often he came into close contact with you.

when you were cooking dinner the other night for the both of you, you didn't notice his figure leaning against the door frame as he watched you struggle to slice the vegetables needed for the curry you were making.

his chuckle made you jump, nearly dropping the knife in your hand in the process, but that moment was short lived when childe approached you and encased your hand in his own.

his hand was much larger than yours was, to your surprise, and they were calloused to the touch. despite the roughness of his skin over the top of your hand, you found yourself loving the touch and yearning for more.

his breath tickled the shell of you ear as he gave instructions on how to properly cut the vegetables, specifically the more difficult to cut ones, so that you wouldn't harm yourself. but you couldn't pay attention, not with his warm breath beside you, his warm hand encasing your own, and his scent enveloping you.

a waft of the ocean with subtle hints of citrus and laundry detergent.

or when you were catching lunch with him one day after classes and found yourself rambling on and on about a topic that suddenly came up and interested you.

you were mid sentence when your gaze shifted back to your dear roommate in front of you. the deep abyss that usually finds its home in childe's eyes were replaced with a much warmer shade of blue, the shade you would find inviting and calming when walking near the shore. his lips curve into a small smile as he rests his jaw on his hand, watching your every movement.

"why'd you stop?" he inquired when you trailed off, his soft lips moving with each syllable and you desperately craved for something you couldn't consume.

you couldn't take it anymore. the way he smiles at you as if you held the light that lit up his life, the way he calls out your name and brightens up the room with his toothy smile just because he caught a glimpse of you outside of your shared apartment.

every time. every single time he does something that garners your attention you have to deal with the consequences of your heart hammering against your chest and the heat that flows into every inch of your skin.

you couldn't deal with the reality of being in love with your roommate.

[echantedtoon]

Promise Part 2 Oath

After spending years giving offerings to deities, and accidentally making an oath he tends to be sure you keep it.

Yeah I know. I'm still working on part 1 but my computer stupidly deleted it so I have to restart on it. In the meantime enjoy ch2 and 3 when I'm done editing Michikatsu's part

(picture relevant found on Pinterest. Kokushibo version coming soon.)

@lavenderdrxp

@thotfulwriter

@trancylovecraft

An oath is a promise.

A promise. The person's word. A verbal agreement. A contract.

Remember that what you will. Do not take lightly the things spoken as a promise for you cannot take it back for once they leave your voice. For they will seal your fate.

You jumped as a thunderclap in the distance overhead echoed throughout the sky. Your head looked up instinctively and stared at the still lit up sky and the dark grey storm clouds that scattered across it like some shattered jigsaw puzzle. The sight of it worried you making a frown appear on your perfectly make uped face. The chilly wind blowing over you making you shiver and the veil flow in the wind and over your face.

A hand reached up to push the lacey veil away from your face to give a clearer look at the looming figure in front of you.

The stories you've heard about the ancient Garden, the tales and whispers and rumors. Hone to decadence and luxury in the days of yore, now abandoned and mostly forgotten. The aura of mystery and lost inheritance tainted by misfortune and blood mixed with greedy ambition. It's shadow loomed over your form blocking most of what's left of the moonlight, casting the eerie darkness over your beautiful white dress. None of the rumors have done it justice, only instilling more creepiness to the overall visage. The whole place looked like the stereotypical image of a ghost story made. Old worm shrine. Creaking creepy metal fence. The old rock pathway leading up toit  full of cracks and had weeds growing in the crevices. This place was obviously abandoned for most of its existence. So why doesn't it look like an overgrown forest by now? Why weren't the grounds more overgrown than expected??... Must've been the caretaker. There must've been a caretaker. 

You've had many fond memories of this place growing up as a child. You remember flocking here in search of solice and peace when no ond else would give it to you. It had felt that way for many years. The garden welcomed you, almost sought you out whenever you were to come here to pray and give offering to the twin deities the garden was said to belong to. Elders always scolded you for going to the abandoned place saying that it was dangerous filled with poisonous plants and wild animals. The real superstitious ones told you that it was full of ghosts that would spirit you away from this world if you weren't careful. You never believed that..The part about the spirits being evil. If there was spirits here then they weren't evil or just went around minding their own business. They certainly never bothered you anytime you were there. 

However tonight maybe they were onto something as the red moon shown bright.

The moon shined red as blood tonight as shadows moved.

Quiet night. Unholy night of beasts. Feasting their sights upon the stray women who dare stay out at night when the full moon rises, lighting the pathway for the beasts to claim their prey. Gnashing teeth, snarling fangs waiting to take a bite into innocent flesh where the terrible claws miss. Waiting to snatch you away down into their dark abyss never to return. She was none what so ever concerned about traveling alone tonight. She had better places to be and anyone who dared be foolish enough to tangle with the night would never be heard from again. One look at it would deter most creatures away. But hier business was not with them.

You shivered in the wind that picked up clutching your rings and the small bouquet of flowers closer as you rubbed your shoulders in a vain attempt to bring what limited warmth you had back to your body.

Partially through what was left of the limited moonlight, you passed by some wild trees that made your stomach flip but it came a different feeling.

The feeling of being watched.

It didn't start out that way. At first it was just an aspect in the back of your mind you brushed of as paranoia of the shrine's old ghost stories echoing in your mind. The feeling first came around when the sun had just started to set and it wasn't strong enough to warrant anything more than a two second thought and hand waving them off. However thing's changed. The sun soon disappeared over the horizon to be kissed good night by it's counterpart, the moon, and the walking woman was glad that it was a full moon, for it brought moonlight strong enough for you to see the pathway as your feet continued to walk. With it came the feeling but tenfold. You've only felt this way before back at home when your too clingy fiance wouldn't leave you alone, that same feeling also returned with the feeling of being followed, but every time your head snapped over your shoulder towards the Darkness behind you....

There would be nothing.

Literally nothing. Nothing but the cold wind starting to pick up. You brushed it off as just your paranoia getting the better of you and you set your jaw against the wind. There was nothing there anyways so what did you have to worry about?

Someone following you and dragging you back home. Your family would make you marry the most obnoxious man ever and you would never be able to come here again. You'd be damned if you weren't going to give your offerings one last time. And at least say goodbye to your childhood sanctuary.

The overgrown weeds hugged the hem of the bridal dress she wore. A ghost of white in the darkness. A warmth settling in with invisible eyes as you approached the large stone. It's carvings long since worn away to where you could barely make it out but as always you bowed against the wind and leaned down to place the roses you've brought as a final farewell gift to the deities whom lurked here if any lurked here at all. As if pleased with your gift, the wind temporarily stopped in its path. This was it. Once you returned, the ceremony would already be ready to start and you'd be a taken woman. It was a miracle you were able to sneak out this long.

"Good bye. Thank you for providing me many years of happy memories. I hope one day another person will be here in my place."

A hand reached out to brush away some of the overgrown vines from the cold stone. A barely visible carving of a sun was visible in the limited moonlight. You had once asked one of the superstitious elders about it and he had explained the legend of how there had been two deities long ago. One of the son and one of the moon. The sun deity had fallen in love with a human farm girl but before they were married she was killed by a demon. They say that his shrine and garden was built on the place that was once her farm. You didn't know how true that was or even if it was real, but you did find the take quite tragic.

"I was to be married too. I wonder if it was as heart breaking for you as it was for me."

Nothing but the lonely wind and crickets chirping answered you.

You didn't speak at first. Slowly standing up. Wind blowing the veil around you. The blood moonlight giving a reddish glint to the olden shrine.

You snorted at your situation despite yourself being angry. "I still can't believe my family saw anything in him. He couldn't even say his vows right at the rehearsal...I guess that was because he was imagining saying them to someone else the whole time." A different version of you he wanted most likely.

"What was his vows anyways? I bet they were so bland and and boring." You snickered thinking about his bumble at the rehearsal before you cleared your throat before in a bad impression of his voice you spoke in a cheesy lovestruck tone. "My beautiful love. Bind our blood in ceremony and let me share your name." A hand outstretched to no one as you fake acted out processing your love to an invisible imaginary person. "Under the stars of the heavens, I solemly swear, that this hand will always be kind and never cruel. That my voice will only speak truth. That this life is now forever yours." The outstretched hand pretended to take the imaginary person's hand. "Now as yours is mine."

You could hear imagine the look on his face if you told him how predictable his  Making you smile and continue. Your engagement ring slipped off your finger as you pretended to use it as the wedding ring presenting it to the stone.

"Bind our souls to infinity and I will promise you love and devotion through sickness and health and beyond the realms of death." You continued to speak remembering the details of the day like it happened yesterday. "I will love you in all your forms now and forever. Through several lifetimes and back." Your voice was low and smooth now speaking it like you meant it with pride. "From now to infinity." You held the ring up as if actually presenting it to someone. "Unyielding. Untainted. Undeniable. With this voice I promise you my love and heart. With this ring, I ask you to be mine!" You held up the ring- only to accidentally again trip on your train and slip. "Crap!"

You ended up landing on just your knees his time. Both rings again falling to the ground and rolling away from sight. Not that you really cared about that as much as you cared about the soreness this goofy outfit was causing you.

You hissed slowly moving to stand back up. "Ugh. I keep tripping over my stupid dress."

You scrambled to grab your hem again and look around for the ring. Where'd they go? You looked around for the ring and eventually found them laying just in front of you in the grass. Ah. There they are. You were half tempted to just leave them there but your family would be angry. Your hand reached out to them-

Until something grabbed your wrist-

It was like the air itself had wrapped around your wrist and PULLED! You yelled out as you arm was tugged forward and you yelled as your other hand shot out to brace yourself against the ground. A horror feeling shot through your body as you looked up and saw..

Literally nothing there.

The moonlight illuminated the area in front of you and you could see nothing but you felt an iron grip on you arm. You couldn't help but let out a little yell of fright before you started pulling back in a panic. Pulling back and yanking at the otherworldly grip keeping you in place. Your other arm flying out to grip your arm and pull back as hard as you could. Pulling, yelling, and fighting back until whatever it was gave- You ended up falling onto your backside scrambling away from your position and hastily shooting up to your feet stand. Your lungs heaved in horror at nothing. 

The wind howled around you blowing the veil around like some bridal cape. The clouds increased in the sky and the bloody moon oozed it's light down on misfortune.

THUMP-

Your mouth dropped in horror as the ground under your feet moved, as of a great beast was disturbed by your presence. The ground rumbled and shook as you teetered and waved your arms around to steady yourself from falling again. Pupils the sizes of pins as you gave small gasps and yelps as thunder crashed overhead thunder reigning through the sky and cold wind swirling around. Until the monster under the dirt finally ceased and all was still again. You gasped out and stood there panting heavily as everything just..

Stopped.

As if it didn't even happen. You panted looking around yourself but not seeing anything. What the hell just happened?!

BAM!!

A hollow push erupted from the ground in front of you. Eyes going small as something from the depths battered it's way from beneath the surface. A feeling of ice injected itself into your veins as something pushed out from under your feet. Dirt pushed up with each deep push upwards. Cracks formed between old roots and rocks. A shiny ring slowly rolled away from the jostling-

Only to be snatched up as a white hand burst from beneath the soil.

Body froze. Jaw opening. Eyes wide as the moon. Digits old and worn flexed out feeling against the nearly disturbed dirt until they found their target in a small rings. Fingers long and boney curled around them drawling them into it's cold dead palm before it retreated back down into the depths of the abyss leaving a disturbed dirt mound behind. The wind carried what sounded like a happy sigh of relief after the soft dirt stopped moving about.

"I do."

There was a grim pause. Wind howling. AND THEN THE GROUND BEGAN RISING UP WITH MORE FORCE-

She didn't hesitate for a moment. Not even a second. Not when the woman turned around and RAN.

Every runner knows that the first warning sign of danger is a sense of dread, a feeling of impending doom. You are about to run away from a monster. But how do you prepare for this? Y/n had always hated dark forests with its lumbering tall trees. It was a place where she felt fear. The dark teased like taunting bullies, each sway of a branch creaking it's maniacal glee and every whistle the wind whipped by your ears whistled their sick pleasure in watching her panicked state of mind. CLICK, CLICK, CLICK!! Went the sounds of her heels against the bricked ground and curling tree roots, like spiderwebs under her feet, ready to snag her and make her join the abyss any moment. The darkness caged you in with the mockery of noises, a canopy of night shrouding the way out. But for now you only knew one thing.

RUN.

Your body felt light, only being able to feel every time your feet slapped against the ground which would surely be sore later, but you didn't care. You could be hurting for the next ten years for all you cared! Please gods just let you get away! Your eyes darted around for any signs of escape only being shown endless darkness instead. Your only hope was to get back to Taylor! Or to get back to the manor! A place you could at least take refuge. Your arm were partially extended in front of you, to push and swipe down any bush, branches, and other plants in your way as you ran, other hand holding up your dress in a vain attempt to keep from tripping. Stumbling and half tripping over large tree roots and clumps of grass in your wake, but still making good distance. Until the burning in your lungs threatened to make you drop, and you were forced to start slowly down step by step until you were hugging the side of a tree for life, your arms desperately gripping the rough bark until the imprints were deep in your palm and your knuckles were deep white, forcing your body to step around the tree until you reached it's front and you hid yourself behind it from the direction you just ran from. Your back hit the hard tree and your head tilted towards the heavens, hands clutching your pounding heart. And there was silence other than the mockery of wind and branch creaks. Your throat and lungs were on fire. Your heart pounded almost painfully in your chest. And you did not dare move in fear of seeing that-...that-....MONSTER somewhere behind you.

That-....That wasn't real r-r-right? It COULDN'T be real! It was just a figment of your imagination projected by your fear! T-That must've been the case!...But then..How were you able to make contact with it if it was just a hallucination? You felt your hand make contact with that thing's grip and you felt the struggle you gave. You stood there, shaking harder than a tree in a tsunami in dead of winter. Other than the gasps of air your body forced you to make, you dared not make a sound. Not a noise. The whole time you stayed perfectly still as ever so slowly your heart rate decreased the longer the silence went on and the longer nothing appeared. Slowly your lungs and throat's fire extinguished with the help of the cold wind you swallowed, and what was left behind was just a dull soreness. The rapid beating of your heart calmed slowly until it was just a little above what it would normally be beating. Your eyes slowly regained focus from the sheer panic. And your body calmed down but not your mind. Your mind still raced in fear from what you just saw and you stared straight up at the creaking branches of the tree you hid behind. The panic still clear and making you do nothing but listen in anticipation, like a rabbit hiding from a pursuing fox. But still...nothing but silence. And when your eyes slowly looked to the right and your face followed until your cheek and side of the face was pressed against the rough tree bark awaiting for any sounds, but nothing still came.

It was a stupid decision...A bad one really but-..

You slowly scraped your back against the back of the tree slowly inching your way to the side of the tree, and ever so slowly, poked your head out. Not all the way. Just enough to look out at the direction you ran from and saw...nothing. Nothing but darkness and trees. And that made you pause. There was...nothing? Nothing at all? Slowly you pushed your head fully out to see better, and took your time grazing your eyesight around the darkness, straining your eyes in the limited light that seeped between the leaves and branches. Quietly listening for anything running after you, but still nothing came. ...You-..You must've lost whatever that was. You exhaled a shaky sigh of relief and slumped back against the tree. Eyes closing as a wave of relief washed over your tired body.

''What am I doing!? Don't just stand there like an idiot!! RUN!!''

You listened to your inner voice, you turned on your heels and began running again taking the opportunity given to you by the gods. You didn't care if you got lost this time, you only cared about living. And so through the darkness the abyss had to offer, you again ran. Not which direction you were heading. Not sure who you'd run into or if you got more lost, but you were darned determined to not be eaten tonight by anyone! Not today demons! Or..zombie.OR WHATEVER THE HECK THAT WAS! You only did what you did before. Your heels clicked against the ground which would surely be sore later, but you didn't care. Your f/c eyes darted around for any signs of escape only being shown endless darkness instead. Your arms were partially extended in front of you, to push and swipe down any bush, branches, and other plants in your way as you ran. Stumbling and half tripping over large tree roots and clumps of grass in your wake, but still making good distance. Until the burning in your lungs threatened to make you drop, and this time the roots claiming your feet snagged onto a particularly large root, and a few feet you went tumbling

Your screams of tumbling over a few feet were cut short as it felt like you hit every single root, rock, and hard spot on your way down. Pain exploded everywhere your body made contact with the ground until finally with a final thud, your body fell hard onto soft grass. Knocking the air out of your lungs and you gasping for air on your side. Your body was in pain from everywhere your body hit the ground and you were sure it would leave bruises and scratches later. You coughed and gasped for air, lungs burning but you nearly stopped breathing again when load ghost like moaning came from up the path that was DEFINITELY NOT wind making your body feel like it was dipped in ice as your heartbeats sore. No. Not more of them. Not again! Adrenaline kicked in now as your body wobbled and felt so light, not to mention hurt, as you forced yourself to stand and start walk-running away, swaying as you still gasped for air but your panicked state didn't care about the pain or anything as you somehow quickly got your balance back and started running through the dark. The sounds and darkness of the forest blocked almost all moonlight as you blindly ran to try and get away from the giant demons, to keep from being eaten. You ran...and ran...and ran blindly in the dark with your hands in front of you. Branches and other plants hitting your legs and face as you did, the sounds of the things behind you disappearing as you kept running. At one point you had the brilliant idea to look behind you to see if anything was following you-

"AH!"

Your foot once again got caught on something. You screamed as your body went tumbling head over heels down a hill in the dark. Your already sore and hurt body becoming even more so as you rolled and rolled and rolled until you finally came to a stop at the bottom of it onto your back, with your body facing the sky. Your vision swam and your head spun as you stared up dizzily at the sky as your vision slowly went around and around and around until it focused. And you gave a cough as your burning lungs heaved against your chest. Your heart feeling as if it'll explode any moment it was beating so fast, you couldn't stop it! You just sat there gasping and panting and clutching your chest. Your brain felt foggy. No...No. Don't black out now! Get up! COME ON GET UP!! Muscles burnt. Barely able to breath. The dirt and grass felt stinging cold and burnt your skin as you turned on your side to weakly lay on your stomach, your face gasping the sweet scent of grasses for a moment as you laid there for a sweet few silent seconds, before you allowed yourself to look up and you stopped..gasping heavily and staring at what was before you in awe.

THE SHRINE!!

If you could get inside then you could wait for someone to get help or until daylight broke. Ignoring the pain in your ankle, you gathered up your dress in your arms, you heaved in worry as you wobble ran as fast as your legs could carry your body. It felt like an eternity scrambling to and then around the mansion not daring to look back. You knew it was ALWAYS a bad idea to look back during chases! Especially in ghost stories. You'll be darned if you made the same mistake! You made for the front. Practically beelining it to the old doors as they creaked and groaned under your force to throw them open and then slam them closed behind you. Your back presses against the cold thick wood and there you stood panting heavily. It felt like two fists were squeezing your lungs out of any air they sucked in at all. Your heart pounded hard enough in your chest to be mistaken for a drum in a parade. Your senses on fire yet on the same time highly alert.

Whatever you woke up was out there. Whatever it was, was most definitely looking for you! What had you done to cause this?! The heartbeats were the only things heard in your mind. The wind howling in through the crevices of the old building and whistled like a thousand ghostly birds. It was so much to take in. You prayed as hard as you could to whoever deity this shrine houses to save you-

"You look at me with cold eyes. You see me me and turn away as if you didn't know me."

your body froze when the voice reverberated throughout the entire shrine. Coming from everywhere and no whe at once. Who...What was that?

"You know that I couldn't have shown you me. Gave you me. I couldn't show you my weakness so I put on a mask to see you but I still want you. A flower that resembles you blossomed in this garden of loneliness. I wanted to give it to you as I rip off this mask. But I know this can't go on forever."

"W-What do you want?" Her lips trembled as a presence closed in.

"It's not what I seek. It's what I desire. Wishing that love is as perfect itself. Wishing all my weaknesses are hidden." The room fell sideways in his mind. An oozing feeling on continuous falling for her over and over again. Swallowed by the monster that demanded he claim and the beast that roared at him for everything he did wrong to be made right again. "In a life where nothing was ever genuine, you carved a piece out of my heart that will never feel complete unless you yourself abide by it's beating. So you see..A vow is your word. Your word is an oath. An oath is a promise, Sunlight."

The doors rattled on their hinges making you shriek and back away. Gazing wife eyed in horror as the old wood rattled and creaked until the door opened for the creature that was summoned. A man as bright as the sun but as dark as the lightless shy stepped within. Your face fell body trembled as you watched him hold up a single large hand. The shining seal of the contract right there on his finger. A smile as soft and sweet as it was as dark and sinister gazed at you.  An angel if his horns were at all a halo. 

"W-What do you want with me?"

"Accept my devotion and become mine. A place not beneath but beside me. For we were lovers before we were ever born in this world. My name shall be your own, your blood shall be mine, and all combinations of life will be one. Accept all of me, as I already have all of you."

"I d-don't even know you."

"You will because now my light.." The smile widened. Arms enveloping her own. Eyes shining with some dark variety of adoration. "We'll be together forever."

[engelfeather]

Fangs and Fur: chapter 11

Warning, this chapter features blood and a bit off gore!!Despite being trapped in loads of soft fluff, he barely felt it brush against his body. With each step the giant took, getting away from whatever new horrors this world had to offer, he was at risk of falling out. Yet, his head didn't register it. In fact, his own mind blocked out most of the chaos, that surrounded him.His eyes, watery and blurry, stared at something far In the distance. His hands were desperately clutching Angels fur, his body tensing up, until his he had to close his eyes to bare it.

Nothing, but numbness fogged his mind. He hadn't noticed how Angel protectively covered his body with his hand.

He heard their screams again.So close, yet so distant, as if he wasn't truly there.

As if it all was just a distant memory that his mind had continued to replay. Slowly he turned his head around, catching a mere glimpse of that.. thing.

He physically gagged, when he saw how sharp teeth hungrily ripping off the flesh of one of its poor victims. Their body was twisted into an unnatural way, with the beasts aggressive nature only making it worse, presumably to make sure that, until their last breath, they suffered.

As if it felt watched, he looked up to stare at Xavier. Without another thought, it rushed after him or at least that's what he believed, as it came closer.

Xavier, unable to stop himself from staring, noticed that something started to feel off about this.. thing. Its unnatural shape suddenly began to constantly form anew, as though it wasnt able to choose what it wanted to present as. Regardless of what Xavier saw, it looked more horrifying than before. The world around it warped and contorted into bizarre shapes, causing objects, even houses, to float into the sky and shatter, like glass. The longer Xavier stared at it, not being able to break his stare, the more its visage shifted into things that were more.. personal. Faces, objects, animals, he swore he could even make out Angels face, even if it was on display for a split second. Taking forms that reflected his own fear. Its Mouth was gaping open, as if it was trying to to feed off of his fear it created. He continued to not be fully present, only capable of staring into the dark abyss, that only came closer, until he heard the giant mumble something. As if snapped out of a trance, he could break his stare. His eyes darted up, trying to make out what Angel was saying under his breath. "Don't stare at." Angel whispered, surprisingly calm, covering Xavier's field of vision from it, "It will only trick your mind into seeing your own fears.. to make you more suitable for consumption." Irritated, yet still scarred from that experience, he hugged Angels thumb, or at least tried to, shivering uncontrollably.

Angel, who thought this was some kind of out of place affection, gently caressed Xavier's head with his other hand. He tried to be as gentle as possible, as he still had to focus on running away, with the beast approaching. When Xavier didn't recoil, either out of sheer fear or enjoyment, Angel couldn't help but smile.At least his little guy was safe. Continuing to run away, trying to find a way to get away, he passed by a little child, that was fearfully staring into the eyes of the ever approaching ravaging monster before it. He halted In his tracks. He couldn't let this poor child become a victim. Taking a deep breath, he hesitantly lowered his defence on Xavier, pushing him down his chest fluff and rushed back to the shivering child. Even though he knew he shouldn't do it, he wouldn't dare let an innocent child be harmed, when he could've prevented it. After all, he didn't care about rules.

The creature, now looming over the trembling child, opened up its horrifyingly large mouth, rows of teeth circled around the inside of its maw. Black goo dripped down to the ground, like some slobbering dog, ready to devour its treat. As the monster was about to tear apart its prey, Angel rushed in between the two. He swiftly lifted up the still shaking child and bolted it into the other direction. Holding the child close to his chest, he caressed the back of their head and reassured them in a soothing manner. "It's alright... I'll get you to safety. Don't worry.. I'll keep you safe." The kid nodded slightly, closing their eyes and burying their head into Angels chest fluff.Xavier had to make sure not to be squished or worse, found by the giant child, so he tried to wiggle his body away to make space. Though he couldn't help but look into the child's teary eyes. The despair he saw reflected that of his own. He never imagined seeing such a large creature, even if it was still a kid, to cower in fear. It was obvious that whatever disturbing images they were faced with, scarred them for life. Their lips trembled, mumbling words that he couldn't quite make out. Yet he knew he didn't have to, to him the child's wishes were obvious. Just like he did, they wished for those horrifying images to be forgotten about.

Taking a deep breath, he carefully reached out and caressed the child's cheek. The child, flinched and opened its eyes wide, burying themselves deeper into Angels fur out of fear. "D-.. don't worry, I won't hurt you.." Xavier whispered in a soothing voice, "Its all going to be okay, I promise.." The kids eyes darted down to Xavier, dilating at the sight of him. Their mouth now agape, they observed him quietly. His presence seemingly distracted the child from the things going on around them.

[ Better than nothing at least. ]

Xavier thought, smiling up to the child, that stared down at him in awe. Lowering their head, their nose tried to pick up his scent. Somewhat used to it, Xavier allowed himself to be not only sniffed, but analysed in general. Even though a part of him previously worried that the kid might grab him and see him as nothing but a toy, surprisingly the child was quite gentle with exploring their curiosity. Angel continued his sprint, with the monster right on his tracks. Despite trying to lose it by running in between the crumbling buildings around him, the beast didnt seem to want to give up. As much as he wanted to be angry at himself for putting himself in this position, knowing he rescued a child, gave him the strength to continue. Looking down, he noticed how Xavier was calming down the child. A bit of panic arose in him, knowing that Xavier shouldn't be revealing himself like this, as it could get him in trouble. Glancing over to the child, he saw how interested and happy the child was, reminding him of his own childhood. It was going to be fine..

Seeing a nearby alleyway, he ran towards it, almost getting his tail bit off by the creature. Running into it, he quickly made a nearby object, a trashcan, float up, throwing it at the monster to distract it just for a second. The giant behemoth seemed to be displeased, biting down on the trashcan and shaking it violently. With the monster distracted, Angel gladly took the small time frame he had to get on top of the roof, by using some ladders. Right after he managed to reach the top, the giant had already dismantled the trashcan, slowly looming over the building, casting a dark shadow over him, flashing its distorted teeth. It let out a disturbing howl and charged at Angel with an open maw.

By now, Angel had realised he had no other option but to fight the creature, he just needed a more open space in case something went wrong. Angel promptly pulled out his gun and with extreme precision, he aimed and shot its eye, causing the monster to screech. It quickly reformed its eye in a creepy manner. Angel backed away, knowing fully well he angered it. He had to make sure not to drop the child, as he shot the creature again and again. This stopped the creature, yet not for long. It charged at Angel again, resulting in another bullet being fired at it. Angel began to get more nervous, he had hoped that the creature would give up, however not only was that hope dwindling, but so were his bullets. Despite this, he didn't have time to reload his gun, as the creature wouldn't falter.

With the creature back up on its feet, it rushed to attack Angel once more, he aimed his gun, waiting for the right moment to fire. Right as the monster opened its cavernous maw, Angel fired. Click.Time slowed as the sound resonated with Angel. Looking up from his gun, he only saw large glistening teeth, that had waited long enough for its prey, with drops of black goo dripped down its fangs.

Angel could only watch as the giant maw enveloped his arm, slowly crunching down on it. Blood splattered on to the ground and Angels body, staining his white fur with the blackness within him. His eyes twitched, feeling his blood trickle down his torn off arm. Regardless, he couldn't bring himself to stare into its hypnotising eyes. The silence, that surrounded Angels mind, broke with the small whimpers of the child, who had to witness such a disturbing scene. Like shattering glass, Angel got pulled out of his trance state in an instant. He furrowed his brow in frustration, not only did this thing take his gun, but his arm too! Not only that, it continued to frighten the poor child. With a quick motion, he placed the child down behind him.Glaring back up at the creature once more, who was about to use one of its large claws to rip into his body, he snarled, shaking his head in disdain. Stronger amounts of energy started to course through his body, his eyes beginning to glow a pinkish red. Right as the monster was about to land its hit, he casually flicked his wrist. The ground began to quiver, as all of a sudden the ground beneath it began to rapidly crack open, like a huge scar a giant claw could've created.

This caused the giant beast to lose balance in its footing, stumbling back in surprise and missing its attack by just an inch. Right as the creature regained its composure, with it letting out a haunting howl, an ominous pink glow emitted from the depths of the pit. Large glowing pink pillars erupted from the ground, shooting high up and circling around the large creature, trapping it. "I suggest you cover your eyes.." Angel uttered under quite a confident smile.

Xavier who had watched the whole ordeal hadn't even realised he was spoken to, as he assumed Angel was speaking to the child. Though seeing the light below starting to get brighter, he hastily obliged, closing his eyes shut and turning his head away. Right as he did so, he could sense a sudden burst of energy below him, making him huddle further into Angels fur. Taking a deep breath, Angel focused, ignoring the blood that gushed out of his ripped off arm. It merely fueled his rage, as he hissed "Sorry 'bout this, but I won't risk letting you harm a child, let alone take one of my guns." Lifting his working hand, he snapped his fingers. A shockwave of energy coming from it, as with another small earthquake, a large Lazer burst from the scar, engulfing the creature fully. The Lazer cut through the pavement and buildings effortlessly, leaving traces of pink flames in the surrounding area, destroying more than just the monster.Its screeches were barely heard over the powerful burst, as it tried to get away. However the pillars, that seemed to shoot up into the sky endlessly, prevented the creature from escaping its gruesome fate. Xavier feeling the warmth radiating on his back wondered what the hell was creating that warmth. Despite his curiosity gagging his mind, he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, merely accepting that, whatever it was that Angel was doing, would work out. He wouldn't want to be faced with another traumatising sight. With another snap, the Lazer vanished with the pillars like dust, leaving behind nothing but a large crater and a small puddle of black liquid as the remains of the beast. Angel merely smiled in amusement, whilst the child and Xavier hugged Angel out of fear, yet still being grateful to be safe now. Hesitantly Xavier opened his eyes back up. His heart jumped a beat at the sight he was met with. The building, that Angel was standing on, was almost completely destroyed, with debris crumbling to the ground. Pink flames, which burned passionately around the large crater, licked against nearby buildings, ready to devour them in their flames. He was about to huddle back into the safe space, that was Angels fur, when he noticed something small moving at the center of the crater. It flailed around helplessly in the small puddle of the mysterious black fluid. It was completely covered in goo, trying to desperately get it off of their tiny body. Yet it seemed that they lacked the strength to achieve that, as their frantic movements ceased every so often.

Perhaps this was a surviving victim of that behemoth. Guilt trickled into Xavier's mind, feeling empathy and understanding in how terrified they must be. He hugged his shivering body, imagining himself hugging the person below in a comforting manner. He knew all too well what effects such a horrific attack could do to a person. His eyes wandered up to look at Angel, who had turned around to comfort the child.

[ How could someone be so careless about other people's lives, when they themselves experienced the same things. ]

Though he didn't need to ponder on the question for too long, having realised that he wasn't a person to Angel, nor were any of the other people he had tormented or killed. At least, that's what he thought, as Angel still seemed to care in some aspects about him, even worrying about him in some instances, regardless of if those instances were the direct results of his actions. If he truly didn't value him, he would've simply not cared.. or maybe he just wanted to get him fixed up so he could continue tormenting him.Xavier placed the palm of his hands on his eyes and rubbed them, out of frustration. He couldn't make sense of Angels thought processes or his constant whiplash in his emotions. Especially in his sudden emotional outbursts and quite wild ideas. It drained his energy and his patience, neither of which was fun to him. Feeling a sudden pressure against his body, he snapped back to reality. To his relief it was merely the child trying to see if he was alright. He smiled weakly, trying to show his tiredness and overall broken down appearance, as he gently hugged the child's finger. Somehow, the care the child showed towards him in this exact moment gave him a bit of hope. He wasn't sure for what exactly, perhaps for the future generation or that not all of them were like.. Angel.

[ Something is definitely wrong with him.. ]

With the child calming down with the help of Xaviers presence, Angel was relieved he could help out the child. He gently lifted the child back up into his, now, one arm, though he didnt mind if it meant keeping the kid safe. He carefully made his way down the buildings which was quite hard with no free arm to use. The child was clingy onto Angel tightly to avoid falling down, which only made balancing harder. Though luckily, with a bit of effort he managed to get down safely, gently placing the child back down. "There you go kiddo.." Angel mused softly, "Be more careful next time, I'm sure you don't want to get yourself badly hurt. Hah- I mean look at my arm!" He glanced down at it, smiling awkwardly when he noticed the child looking concerned. Crouching down, he hastily reassured them, shaking his hands in a dismissive manner "Dont ya worry your little head about it, I'll be a-okay in no time! It barely even hurts.. now then, go on already.. you should take some rest, this was quite the rollercoaster after all." He sighed and petted the child's head aiming to cheer up the child. "Thank you sir.." the child whispered, hugging him, then looking down at Xavier, "And.. thank you too little person.." The child giggled, with Xavier petting their cheek. With that, the child ran off, waving bye to the both of them.

He watched as the child ran off, before getting back up on his feet. He then looked down to his human. In a surprising concerning manner, Angel spoke to Xavier "Are you alright? Did the creature scare you all too much?" Xavier, slightly surprised at the perturbed tone of his voice, was unsure how to respond properly. He was bewildered and Angels sudden care for the child, even gleeful over the fact he had lost his arm, but at the same time he wss confused, scared and somewhat upset that Angel hadn't defeated the creature prior. Trying to speak up, he stuttered "I.. uhm.. I don't know. It's all... just a blur- i... wow.. you were like... kind of awesome- but.. why the hell didn't you do that.. earlier..? After all that monster almost killed us!" Angels eyes widened a bit at Xavier's words, surprised that he was complementing him, yet there was a glimmer of pain in his eyes. He furrowed his brows in slight frustration, which confused Xavier even more.

Trying to avert the humans stare, he glanced down to the crater he had created, including the destruction it had caused around the area, then back to Xavier. "Dont.. worry about it too much. Let's just say.. we have our reasons not to fight those creatures ourselves. We.. should get out of here now.. I don't want that-"

A feminine voice from behind behind cut him off, speaking up in a frustrated tone.

"Angel, what the hell were you thinking!"

Prev chapter:

[satan-chillin]

Stasis

Eru's summon of Mairon was a long time coming. 

For Angbang Week Day 1: The Timeless Halls

Also in Ao3

❅ ❅ ❅

Mairon had not expected the return of sensation. 

He had wandered and existed as a wisp, a mere, quailing spark of what had been once a bright flame. Not quite death that he had only known second-hand, though not quite living either. Either in the middle of both or nowhere at all. 

And yet here he was in Eru’s Timeless Halls, his senses returned to him as if given a physical form once more. If given the chance to inspect it closely, he might find it resembling the one he had made in that time that could be a distant one in the past or in the future, depending on the when Eru would thrust him out. 

If. 

There was a single logical reason why he was suddenly called into His halls. 

Eru called to him, with a name long-forgotten and what had started his very being. Mairon was grateful for the solidity of his given form, if only for the grasp of stability it had offered as he stood against the all-encompassing presence of his Creator. 

The last time he had stood in front of Him, it had been to face his wrath and his waves. As easy He had stripped him of one of his aspects then was as easy he had remade him now.

Mairon found no voice to answer with in return, his form holding but buzzing at the edges. Like one wrong shift and it would fall over and unmake him. 

Child. 

It could have only been from the sum of tongues created and the not-yet, but Mairon couldn't mistake the meaning, letting the intent wash over him. 

So he was still one of His Children. Something threatened to give within Mairon. 

“Father,” he said, inadequate. 

Mairon, it is time to decide. 

In the face of his sudden incredulity, Mairon wanted to laugh. “You’re giving me a choice.”

As I did to those who came here before you. 

Mairon scoffed. “I’m certain that Melkor did not choose to be thrown in the Void.”

No, but he chose which path to follow past that. 

He held into the minute gesture of blinking. With a shuddering tone, Mairon asked, “What choice was that?”

The silence echoed itself, reminding Mairon that he wasn’t in the position to question Eru’s will nor what had transpired between Him and Melkor. He wanted to laugh at the unfairness of it all; at his own dismay of not knowing at all what had happened to the Vala he had bound himself with in all the ways that should have mattered. 

A marriage of thought and spirit, though with a link that had been silent for several ages with only Mairon futilely holding on. Perhaps the connection itself had merely existed on Mairon’s end, a one-way illusion that he had made.

The forces of the Valar had made it seem that the Void was Melkor’s eternal punishment for his marring, that dragging him in chains and closing the Doors of the Night on Melkor was the end of it. Mairon would wager that even they did not know of Eru’s offer following his imprisonment. 

Because of course, of course Eru would reward Melkor. He would reward the Child who had unwittingly followed Eru’s intended Song. Chaos and Destruction were Melkor’s opus, but they were naught but Eru’s Composition dedicated to him, His most favored one. 

Would that make Mairon the most disobedient one then? For orchestrating schemes that went out of hand where one had even required Eru’s rare intervention? 

“Am I to choose between obliteration and imprisonment?” If Mairon was the intended eternal prisoner of the Abyss and not Melkor, there was nothing that he could do about it. 

Exhaustion was all that had been left in him. A weariness that seeped into this temporary form, down into the very fiber of what remained in his being. He had poured what there was in so small a thing, precious and gone, and with it were his anger and capacity for sorrow. 

Eru’s visage began to shift: a certain nebula situated atop His many eyes burst. A string of Borealis cast a warm glow over Mairon. It wasn’t difficult to imagine a thousand more worlds created, and a thousand more destroyed. All from a simple movement. 

Mairon was then swept in a sensation of taking a step toward an ingress that appeared on the pad of one of Eru’s limbs. Dark and full of uncertainty, but Mairon knew it wasn’t this; to enter or remain in the halls was not yet the choice he was supposed to make. 

Go forth. I will know which it will be. 

Mairon crossed, and for a moment, he thought he saw his Creator smile. 

❅ ❅ ❅

He knew this place.

A little more to his left would be a sheer fall from a cliff. Almost a precipice, though not as much as what the statement posed. 

“Come with me,” was the soft imploring tone of Melkor, a familiar distant chord of the past.

Mairon had been here at this moment, once. He had readily said yes then—for there would be no other Vala that his Song would resonate with no matter how many times he was unmade and remade—and wondered why Eru thought he would say otherwise now, if this truly was the point where he had to make his choice. 

But he had lived that path and was diminished for it, and, unsurprisingly, he found that it was the knowing that was frightening.  

Mairon’s silence lingered, causing a peculiarity on Melkor’s fair face. Not fury, nor confusion, nor uncertainty but rather…

Oh.

A small smile crossed Melkor’s features, one close to relief, and in this particular light, he looked carefree, with a settling calm that eased Mairon’s doubts.

“Is it you? Truly.”

“For a while now, yes,” Melkor said with a light hum. His fingers seemed to keep rubbing circles on Mairon’s hands. His awe was a wondrous thing to behold, and more so was his disbelief. “You really are here,” he murmured with a tremor. “I thought this moment is to be my everlasting punishment, and over and over I have to see you forget and remember none in the next waning of light.”

His voice trailed off briefly, before: “I’m sorry, Mairon. When the lamplight wanes and waxes anew and you forget, again I will ask for your forgiveness.” 

“Fool,” Mairon whispered against his lips. Like Melkor, his eyes couldn’t seem to stop memorizing his face unburdened. “You ask me to come with you. Always you know I will follow.”

The invitation was clear in the squeeze of his hand, and while Melkor pulled away, his hold did not slack, unmoving and waiting for him. 

“Take us away,” Mairon said, meeting him halfway. 

The wind swayed gently in the next beat, roaming past the cliffs, along the shores, to the roaring waves of the Great Sea, and toward the far ends of Arda. 

The same wind nor Arda itself would not know of Mairon and Melkor again, and where they vanished, only Eru knew. 

[nomsfaultau]

SBI Whumptober Prompt 1

bruises//scars//”that’s going to leave a mark”...Bonus 25) Field Medicine and 10) Guilt. But the AU is called Fault so there will ALWAYS be guilt. 

Disclaimer: this blurb is set in the SCP SBI AU I have called Fault, specifically within Part 2. Explanation of AU; tldr. 

The Blade had always said scars were badges of honor. The mark of survival, of victory. And that was fine and all, but a boarish brute like him didn’t even have the option of slinking into human society, could never feel the scathing eyes of strangers raking through every wound. That pounding instinct that Wilbur was a poor mimic and at any moment the human crowd would pounce upon the intruder in their midst. 

Philza never said anything about scars, but then again he never had any injuries. Not permanent ones, anyway. He didn’t have to deal with the tightness where skin stretched, the way it ached in the cold. Presumably if asked, Philza would give some grating advice about taking care of himself and knowing when to ask for help. Nothing to be ashamed of, mate, just proof you survived! As if they shouldn’t have had to just barely survive in the first place.  

And Wilbur…well. He just called them one more thing to deal with. His skin was a patchwork of such things dealt with. His was an existence pockmarked by eruptions of violence, the evidence carved well into his skin. The humans had left their fair share of agony across Wilbur, the Foundation tenacious in its hunt. Beyond that, the territory the void had marked upon the vessel that composed his body. The gouges slashed into his back, the bite marks mangling his shoulder, the indecipherable mess of damage trailing up to where the abyss clawed itself out of his skull. For all that he only had half a face, the void sure did its best to ruin what little ‘human’ visage he had left. Pieces of himself destroyed by the abyss, either stolen or given. Wilbur wasn’t unfamiliar with selling his body, each chunk a small sacrifice for whatever bargain he needed to make so that the whole of him would survive. Or, what was left of it. 

He’d earned every scar for his weakness, either the price for failing to dodge an attack or the cost of amassing ephemeral power. And Wilbur was used to that. Sacrifice was life, or his at the very least. It wasn’t an existence he wished on anyone, let alone someone he cared about.

And for all that he was a World Eater, what was a lot harder to choke down was the damage littering Tommy. Sure, after a year in the Foundation there were bound to be lasting reminders of that hellish place, but something in Wilbur’s head refused to let go of that idealized version of Tommy. The kid was supposed to be the normal one, with a loving family and a place among the humans. Bright-eyed and excited and blissfully unaware of how cruel the world could be. And surely that child had shattered long ago, but Wilbur needed him to be real, if only for that hope he’d long since abandoned. That little fantasy where someone like him could be free and happy and safe. 

The recent Foundation ambush proved that was never going to happen. No matter how hard they fought to escape, the humans were unrelenting in their pursuit. Sure the anomalies fended them off this time, but what about the time after that? Or after that? Each time battered a little more, broken a little further. 

Wilbur slipped on sturdy gloves and peeled Tommy out of his jacket, cautious of being contaminated by the boy’s anomalous Red. The liquid curled around him anxiously, fear lingering from the attack. One drop and Wilbur would be reduced to the murderous monster humanity thought he was.

But Tommy needed help and Wilbur was the only one with half decent knowledge on how to patch up a humanoid. Not that Philza wasn’t incredibly learned, but there was always the off chance the immortal would suggest leeches. So Wilbur helped Tommy squirm out of his contaminated shirt, pausing as he got a good look at the ugly mixture of mottled bruises and mutilated scars on the boy’s back.

We ruined this kid, he thought quietly.

Most of the scars were silvery slices of surgical precision from the Foundation doctors trying to find out what made the monsters tick. And, sure, Wilbur had those too. But there were a handful of other ones, imprecise, ugly maroons, skin scrunched and coarse. Signs of abuse and battles. Wilbur had those too, far more. Sometimes he thought his skin was mere echoes of damage. He’d gathered them over a lifetime, though. Tommy wasn’t close to catching up, but he’d made great strides in a single year, and it would only grow worse.

Wilbur did his best to ignore the scars, working on tending to the recent bruises. He’d never had time to explore it before, and he didn’t want to be invasive. He’d known they’d be there, knew he needed to focus on the present. The small things were easy to overlook, the too-straight cut lines and the biopsies and the general abuse that had gone too far. The friction burns around his wrists that mimicked the chaffing around Wilbur’s throat. Their mirrored set of y-incisions. Little details from where doctors tried to unravel them to find out what made the anomalies tick. 

Recent fingerprints bruised into Tommy’s skin from where they’d tried to grab his little brother and take him. So many things had been stolen from Wilbur, sleep and time and peace. But he refused to ever lose Tommy again. 

He drew as close as he dared to a particularly large contusion clipping the edge of Tommy’s ribs, trying to discern if there could be fractures. His breathing was pained, but that really didn’t narrow anything down. Cautiously, Wilbur prodded the area. There wasn’t a crunching sound at least. Tommy’s breath hitched as the cold compress pressed against the contusions, the Red dancing along his arms rising with the pain. 

Still, for all the ache each prod must bring to his battered body, Tommy pressed into each touch. For all the times Tommy reached for him only to flinch away at the last second, Wilbur cursed the universe. How could it possibly be fair the only times he ever held his brother was when he was bruised and bleeding? He knew it wasn’t worth the risk but still the injustice coiled in his gut. Wilbur bandaged the last of the scrapes, and before he could stop himself he ran his fingers through Tommy’s hair. He couldn’t feel it through the thick gloves, but Tommy melted all the same, sinking into the touch. 

And with it sunk the Red as he began to feel safe…revealing a dark blotch of crimson no longer hidden by the anomalous power. 

Wilbur winced as he discovered the fresh wound. It was small but deep, burrowed into Tommy’s upper arm. Jagged, from where the barb was ripped out mid fight. Recognizing it at once, Wilbur searched the boy for a twin wound. Luckily, it seemed the second taser barb missed. Good, Tommy didn’t need to know what that kind of voltage tasted like. 

There wasn’t much Wilbur could do beyond disinfection and a bandage. Really, he’d doomed Tommy to the life of getting hunted down like an animal, and that was the best he could do? Fail to protect him and just watch as another scar got added to his growing collection? 

“That’s going to leave a mark,” Wilbur apologized, as if that could ever make up for the irrevocable mark Wilbur left on Tommy’s life. 

[sntslomidzes]

case     file          :          lomidze     ,     ezra         , my  god  whose  performance   am   i   watching   

associations          :          clan lomidze

unknown    ,     unknown          what     is     this     space     between     myself     and     myself

Name: Ezra Lomidze, Unknown if birth name

Occupation: Heir of the Lomidze Clan

Age: Appears 24, True Age Unknown (1,800+).

Sexuality: Bisexual

Species: Vampire

Clan/Pack/Coven?: Lomidze

Hometown: Unknown

Relationship Status: Single

Personality Traits: unstable, reckless, impulsive, loyal, friendly, easy-going

Biography -

TW Violence, Maddness, Blood, Blood Drinking, Murder, Child Neglect

Long ago, within the enigmatic confines of an ancient and nameless town, there existed a figure cloaked in the shadows of obscurity - Ezra, the youngest offspring of a lineage steeped in the mists of antiquity. Born unto humble yet revered parents, he emerged into the world as a harbinger of mischief, his presence imbued with the tantalizing allure of youthful exuberance.

Nestled amidst the bosom of his familial abode, Ezra's formative years unfolded in the tranquil embrace of pastoral serenity, his days punctuated by the lilting melody of laughter and the whispered secrets of the wind. Yet, despite the idyllic facade that enveloped his existence, a rough spirit roiled within his breast, a spirit that yearned for the intoxicating thrill of adventure.

Charming yet mischievous, Ezra roamed the dirt streets of his ancestral habitat with the carefree abandon of youth, his jokes a source of alarm for his stern father yet a source of delight for his doting kin. In the tumultuous arena of boyhood, he reveled in the rough-and-tumble company of his peers, his fists oft raised in playful defiance yet his heart stirred by a profound sense of empathy for those less fortunate than himself.

Ezra would often swim in the crystal-clear waters of the river, his bronzed form gleaming beneath the golden rays of the sun. But there existed a shadowy specter that lurked in the recesses of his subconscious - the ineffable allure of the unknown, beckoning him forth into the uncharted depths of destiny's embrace.

As the tendrils of youth ensnared his consciousness, Ezra found himself standing on the precipice of manhood, his youthful exuberance tempered by the weight of burgeoning responsibility. It was in this crucible of change that fate intervened with the capricious whims of a fickle deity, forever altering the trajectory of his mortal coil.

For it was on a moonlit eve, amidst the whispering embrace of twilight's embrace, that Ezra's life was forever changed by the touch of a creature of the night - a vampiric harbinger of eternal darkness. Unlike his sisters, who embraced their newfound immortality with a grace befitting their station, Ezra recoiled in horror at the monstrous visage that stared back at him from the looking glass, his sanity unraveling beneath the weight of insatiable bloodlust.

Transformed into a feral beast, driven by primal instincts that lay dormant within the recesses of his psyche, Ezra descended into the abyssal depths of madness, his once-innocent soul consumed by the ravenous hunger that gnawed at his very essence. No longer a boy of flesh and bone, he became a creature of the night, a remorseless predator stalking the shadows in search of sustenance.

His sisters, paragons of grace and elegance within the hallowed halls of vampire society, assumed the mantle of guardianship over their wayward sibling, their love for him eclipsing even the darkest depths of his corruption. Bound by ties that transcended the boundaries of blood, they stood as sentinels against the encroaching tide of madness that threatened to consume him whole.

Through time, Ezra's name became synonymous with terror and dread, his legend whispered in hushed tones amongst the denizens of the night. Yet, amidst the crimson tide of carnage that marked his passage through history, there existed a flicker of humanity - a glimmer of light that shone amidst the suffocating darkness of his existence.

For in the depths of his tortured soul, there burned a flame of undying devotion to his sisters, a flame that illuminated the path forward through the stygian labyrinth of his own descent into madness. And though his mind may be forever ensnared within the maelstrom of nonsense, his heart remained steadfast in its unwavering loyalty to those who had stood by his side through the darkest of nights.

Today, Ezra wanders the streets of the modern world, a relic of a dead era thrust into the tumultuous embrace of a new age. Though his understanding of technology may be scant, the boundless wonders of the human world serve as a source of endless fascination for the enigmatic creature that he has become, his eyes alight with a childlike wonder that belies the ancient wisdom that lies dormant within his immortal soul. And though he may forever be a prisoner of his own darkest impulses, his sisters stand as beacons of hope amidst the encroaching shadows, their love serving as a lifeline amidst the tempestuous tempest that rages within his breast.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

WC His sisters. They are both much older than him, and have always been like mothers to him, since theirs died during his birth.

Humans/Witches/Werewolves he is fascinated with, especially bartenders

Friends

Enemies

People he turned

Ex-Lovers

[sntsnoialles]

case file : noialles , lilia , my god whose performance am i watching

associations : clan pretorius

824 , francia what is this space between myself and myself

Name: Lilia Noialles

Occupation: Owner of the Soleil

Age: Appears 33, 1,200.

Sexuality: Lesbian

Species: Vampire

Clan/Pack/Coven?: Pretorius

Hometown: Old Kingdom of France / Francia

Relationship Status: Single

Personality Traits: manipulative, charming, cunning, selfish, withdrawn, loyal

Biography -

TW: Violence, Child Neglect, Death, Mentions of blood, Mentions of cruelty, Depression, Murder, Toxic sapphics

In the hallowed specks of time, amidst the labyrinthine tapestry of history, there existed a figure shrouded in the veils of secrecy and tragedy - Lilia, born under the pale moon of Francis, a girl ensnared in the delicate threads of fate's cruel design.

Conceived amidst the whispering shadows of a forgotten romance, Lilia's birth bore the weight of enigma. Her true lineage obscured, she was relinquished into the embrace of her grandparents, the sovereign royals of their time, their regal stature eclipsing even the celestial orbs that adorned the night sky. Yet, unbeknownst to the innocent babe cradled within the opulent confines of their court, she was but a pawn in the machinations of destiny.

Raised as the cherished progeny of the royal family, Lilia flourished amidst the lavish opulence of her surroundings, her porcelain visage illuminated by the flickering glow of candlelight, her spirit ensconced within the gilded cage of nobility's embrace. Yet, beneath the veneer of splendor lay the dark specter of maternal tyranny, as her existence was marred by the icy grip of a cruel matriarch, a queen whose heart was forged of ice and whose words dripped with venom.

Arrogant yet beguiling, Lilia's essence exuded a curious dichotomy - a tempest of contradiction, wherein her outward demeanor veiled the tempestuous anger that raged within her soul. At the tender age of sixteen, fate intervened with the ferocity of a vengeful storm, as the dread specter of Viking marauders descended upon her kingdom, their savage war cries rending the tranquility of her once-peaceful existence.

It was amidst the chaos and carnage that Lilia's gaze alighted upon the Nordic queen, a figure cloaked in the mantle of formidable majesty, her countenance a portrait of unyielding resolve. In the crucible of conflict, amidst the clash of steel and the crimson tide of battle, an unlikely bond blossomed - a forbidden liaison that transcended the boundaries of time and convention.

The Viking queen, with her stoic demeanor and merciless disposition, ignited a flame within Lilia's heart, a flame that burned with the intensity of a thousand suns. Despite the chasm that separated their worlds, their love blazed forth with an ardor that defied reason, casting aside the shackles of societal norms in favor of an immutable connection forged in the crucible of adversity.

But as the sands of time moved inexorably onward, tragedy descended like a shroud of darkness upon their star-crossed union. A monstrous abomination, its visage twisted and beautiful, laid siege to their ancestral stronghold, its insatiable hunger for blood and carnage laying waste to all in its path.

In a moment of unspeakable horror, Lilia's destiny was forever altered, her once-mortal form irrevocably transformed into an immortal creature of the night - a vampire, cursed to roam the shadows for all eternity. In her frenzied bloodlust, she unwittingly became the architect of her beloved's demise, her heart rent asunder by the cruel hand of fate.

Haunted by the specter of her lover's death, Lilia descended into the abyssal depths of despair, her soul consumed by the ravenous maw of grief and remorse. Yet, amidst the suffocating tendrils of darkness that threatened to engulf her, a flicker of defiance ignited within her breast - a primal instinct for vengeance that burned with the fury of a tempestuous tempest.

For centuries, she languished in company of her sire, her will captured by the indomitable force of her dominion. But with each passing moment, her thirst for revenge swelled like a tempestuous tide, a relentless tide that threatened to consume her very essence.

And so, she embarked upon a harrowing odyssey, a journey fraught with peril and despair, as she sought to reclaim that which had been stolen from her by the cruel hand of fate. Through the sands of time, she wandered, a solitary specter haunting the shadows of the world, her heart a barren wasteland devoid of solace or reprieve.

Today, she resides in the shadows, a silent sentinel of the night, her heart a fortress of ice and steel. Within the confines of her domain, she reigns supreme, a sovereign ruler amidst the throng of the undead, her gaze an inscrutable enigma that pierces the veil of eternity.

But beneath the veneer of her regal façade lies a heart heavy with the burden of centuries, a soul scarred by the indelible mark of loss and longing. For in the end, she is but a creature of the night, a solitary specter condemned to wander the corridors of eternity, her existence a testament to the fragility of mortality and the enduring power of the human spirit.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

People she turned

Clients

Enemies

Ex-hook ups

Friends

[shamelessmagazineangel]

The Tales of Asher

Story One: Princess Anastasia Angel of Tansia

Let us begin this Tale properly. Heed ye that will, and those fools whom won’t. This is the story of the lost princess of a long felled kingdom, her name all but forgotten. She is said to be possessed by the Demon King Ezizh, and cast away from her time.

...the ground rumbles. The sky a dark, despairing red. And, with great misfortune, at the center of this calamity was a princess, shocked and in mortified awe of the scenario taking place within her throne room. Today was her official coronation as ruler, or it would be. Her parents lay sacrificed on their thrones, as a large, imposing demon stared down upon...

An undead fish lord. Or so he proclaimed.

“C’mooooon Ezzy! It’s my birthday!” The Undead Lord spoke in a raspy, hoarse voice, wearing nothing but a loose robe. The stench of death was powerful enough that it made Anastasia recoil from disgust, but never mustering the courage to run. The Demon- Ezzy, as the Undead Lord referred to it- spoke in a language unknown to Anastasia. The Undead Lord seemed to mope in disappointment, before speaking.

“No fun Ezster! Oh well.” He went to leave... before rapidly whipping around to where Anastasia stood. “What about you, girlie? You wanna come to my B-day bash?!” He spoke in crazed tone and used unfamiliar dialect. Anastasia, out of fear, did not move. “What is it, huh? Cat-boy-got-your-tongue?” The Undead Lord tilted his head, then made an O-shape with his mouth as he turned to the grisely visage of the Princess’s parents’ corpses.

“Those were your parents?”

Anastasia nods.

“Oof, sorry kid, too bad THIS PILE OF UNFUN-” he jerked his thumb in the vague direction of the Demon, “is suuuuuper stingy when it comes to summoning. Like, c’mon, who doesn’t like Orphan Gem Golems anymore? Those were all the rage a century ago.” He let his arms hang by his side, before continuing, “Welp! If mean ol’ Ezizh won’t go, I’ll just leave.”

And, in a brief flash of light (and poorly disguised footsteps), the Undead Lord took his leave. Anastasia collapses, in shock of the situation around her, tears falling down her face as she cried. The red sky was something foretold in legends.

They had angered the Celestial Gods, in some way. Her kingdom would be ruined. Her knights, soon to be consumed by either the monsters that came or by the destruction of the kingdom. Her retainer, Gation…

“Tell me, child.” A voice emanates from all around her… the Demon Ezizh looks upon Anastasia. “Do you wish to live?”

The Princess looked up stunned. Frightened, most likely alone, desperate to live…

She accepted the deal.

“Very well, child. You will serve as a vessel for I, Lord Ezizh, Demon of Gluttony, Consumer of Magic, the Abyssal Maw. Your name is no longer Anastasia. You will serve me as Asher.” Ezizh cackles as Anastasia- Asher- now stood. “A sacrifice is required.” The Demon of Gluttony forced Asher to outstretch her right arm… and he swallowed it whole, as Ashers’ vision blurred, and went dark.

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

Felt a little cute thought I might send (part of) a backstory of a D&D Character.

[luminashdawnwing]

Daily Writing Challenge May 2023 Day 1: Forgiveness / Shadowflame

“First, clear your mind,” the dragon intoned, his deep voice rumbling calmly, “You will never have control of your senses again until you can look at the possibilities before you with clear eyes.”

Luminash sat, legs crossed, overlooking the sands of the Temporal Conflux. In the distance, beyond the haze, rose the cliffside of Eon’s Fringe, where it had all begun. Where he had, through his own overconfidence, bound the threads of time all too tightly around himself. In his gaze, especially here, flickered images - foresight and afterimages both, things yet to be, those that could not be, and those that had been long ago.

In was always easier, Luminash found as he closed his eyes, blocking all from his view but the red of the sun through his eyelids, to ask for forgiveness than permission. The Timeless Isle, the expedition in Gorgrond, the depths of the Nighthold, all of them follies, all of them driven by errant curiosity. And now, Eon’s Fringe.

“Do you see them, the echoes from the timeways?” Andantenormu asked, his rasping voice burrowing deep into the magister’s chest, a rustling of scales as his shifted his wings.

Luminash nodded, “Even with my eyes closed, I know they are there. And winding between them, the Arcane, in threads. It is so...active here.”

“Mmm.” A noncommittal murmur from the dragon, “You have taken much into yourself in your short life, magister. You grip it all so firmly, so afraid are you to lose control.”

The elf drew his lips into a thin line at the chiding, “I suppose you have never felt your power slip, then, or worried what could happen if you drew upon too much?” He could not suppress the hint of irritation in his voice. How the smug superiority of the Bronze could grate...

“Calm, young one.” Level, cool, collected, and no hint of that supposed superority. Luminash felt like a scolded child whose temper was brought back in check by a kindly father. And yet, that did grate less, he thought. “We all have thought we could handle more than we could. It is why I am here to guide you in this. Not because you cannot command the power you have stumbled upon, but precisely because I know you can. Forgive yourself your errors, and step forward with a clear mind.”

Luminash took a breath. He counted. One. The dance of sand-strewn images continued unabated. Two. Behind closed eyes, had they gained new clarity? Three. Some were near, some far, yet he knew they were all still where they had begun. Four.

“Good, magister. Now, focus on those in the past, far off, and in the future, just so far. Let them go. They need not gnaw at the mind. If there comes a day to seek them out, then they will come. Know this, and...let go.”

With some effort, and in silence - how long it took, Luminash could scarcely say - he strained to push the echoes away. Then came Andantenormu again, let go. Not push, but simply...let fall away.

Exhale. One. And so they did, hazy images of dragons in flight and visages speaking in hushed whispers dissolving into motes of swirling sand, their grains catching the light and dispersing in a wind unfelt by mere creatures of flesh and blood. Two. There were only hazy images now of events that must be present, or potential presents. Three. He saw himself. Four. His heart began to pound, and his stomach knotted.

“Andantenormu, I see...” Luminash shuddered, “Something is wrong. I see...”

“What you see does no harm, child. Breathe, and all will be well. This is your next lesson. What you see need not come to pass, nor-”

Luminash’s eyes snapped open, and he stared into his own face, swirling in the sands of time. There was no hope left in those eyes, only rage, an abyss of violet flame. His hands were blackened. Something he could not identify, a charred husk, lay at his feet.

Far from the Conflux, deep beneath the earth, Luminash saw himself cloaked in shadowflame. It was him, and yet it was not. He was here, and yet he was there. He began to grow cold as the image faded away, replaced by the concerned gaze of his mentor.

Andantenormu completed his thought, the dragon’s voice an anchor, a welcome reassurance, “Nor need it.”

@daily-writing-challenge

[m1d-45]

Okay wait a min! You know how like the abyss mages and the hilichurls are all like in the lore to be part of khanriah and in general they’re the ones to quickly recognize that the imposter is the creator and they protect us and stuff? So like does that people of Kahnriah has some special ability to recognize us? So wouldn’t that make kaeya, albedo, dainself to recognize us? (Sorry I’m absolutely struggling to spell kahenriah)

Also I had a thought how does our interactions with Dainslef go? Like typically in imposter aus he doesn’t seem to care much about the creator. But if he’s met with the actual creator would he protect them? But like personally I think he would hate them at first for what they did to Kahenriah but slowly comes to care and love them? Because he begins too see and realize this is truly the creator when they see how Teyvat bends to their will and stuff

(Also could I be 🦑 anon?)

YOU X2.

i know i’m guilty of this trope but in truth i never thought about it that much. i suppose i was operating under the assumption that it’s the same as the animals or the wind: they just Know. the people do too, but due to humanity having silly little things called critical thought, doubt, and generally more than one thought at a time, the acolytes don’t follow the slight buzz in their skin when they’re near you. if anything they assume it’s adrenaline.

but like. hilichurls clearly do have thought left—they have language and some sort of society, clearly… hm- you know how in the chasm quest it’s said they’re like eternally cursed or something-? let’s assume the creator lightens that pain, making their existence more bearable. this is something they know to be impossible except by the divine, and they don’t have loyalty to the false god, ergo you must be their god!

abyss mages are mages, so i’m gonna assume they’re a bit more tuned into their elements/the leylines/general auras or whatever. for this same reason i don’t think mona would join the hunt, but that’s for another day.

in addition! they’re affected by the abyss itself, which is just more “you lighten this impossibly heavy curse i have. hey god.” but like more reverent.

now. onto the more human khaenri’ahns.

dainslef is canonically afflicted by the Curse from before and i imagine he is more familiar with your visage/behavior/attitude/powers/whatever simply due to his age and all the time he must have spent studying holy books. also, though he is a Human Person—and hence suffers from the lifelong condition known as critical thought—he’s definitely more likely to follow his instincts. cokes with the territory of being the twilight sword, i suppose.

albedo is. hm. he’s not a child of khaenri’ah- it’s up for debate whether he’s khaenri’ahn at all, really. he was created by rhine, who was khaenri’ahn…. but he held no part in the calamity 500 years ago, and nor does khaenri’ahn blood run in his veins—he’s a child of alchemy, synthetic. he also isn’t canonically cursed. however, as an alchemist—and doubly so for a student of khemia—i’m certain he has a higher interest than average in the creator. whereas dainslef would know you’re you by your kindness, your speech, the way you talk and all your mannerisms, i think albedo would figure it out by how the world acts around you. the spike in leyline flow, the suddenly perfect weather, the way the wind always blows behind you, how the flowers and plants around you are the healthiest.

kaeya… is an interesting case. he’s khaenri’ahn by blood, yet isn’t cursed to my knowledge. i think, like albedo, he’s more likely to realize the difference in how the world treats you. he’s an observant and clever guy, i’m certain he can put two and two together. less on the technical side than albedo… but he’ll notice how the weather suddenly sours before one of the knights’ patrol, how their luck seems to be as bad as bennett’s when searching for you.

moving onto the second part of your ask,,,

because i want people to be happy i have somewhat… creatively interpreted what happened in khaenri’ah during the calamity. obviously every version of sagau is going to be different, but because i dearly adore both kaeya and albedo, here’s my version of events(copied and paraphrased off my post on the subject for ease of reading):

khaenri’ah was built entirely by people. they did worship you, but refused to allow you to meddle with their nation. you could have all of teyvat but you could not have their nation. they lived underground, away from your holy light, and in the dark of a cave with only the earth as their witness, they began to learn khemia. they began to learn how to create, how to mimic your power. theirs was more transmutation, less pure creation, but it was so close to it that rhinedottir let it get to her head.

that glosses over some details, but it’s enough for this discussion.

in my version of sagau, he would definitely protect the creator. he wouldn’t worship the one on the throne, nor would he engage in the hunt (because he knows both are lies), but if you happened to ran into him, you would be safe.

to reiterate: in my version, khaenri’ah collapsed under its own hubris. hence, dainslef would have no reason to dislike you. be awkward, yeah, he hasn’t had an intelligent conversation with another person since the traveller, and before that it was 500 years.

that being said, he could be a bit resentful, even if he didn’t blame you. after all, you didn’t stop rhine, you didn’t do anything to keep the calamity from occurring. yeah it’s because khaenri’ah staunchly refused to have you involved no he hasn’t put it together yet. give him time.

of course, though, this is all my opinion and carries no actual weight.

oh, and welcome!

[mothduchess]

The Crown of the Sea

Off the shores of a grey-haired kingdom, far from the ragged bluffs of yore... This is a kingdom of the waves, where the seafoam carries royal decrees and the thunder is law. Long have the fishers and the swarthy dock folk managed their ruler's temper - a man can starve a town, but the sea can drown a soul. Hardened by ages of salty water they have become known as fearless, unbowed! ... But some fishing stories are told in the hushest of tones. No orc sized catch, no daring escape. Only the tales of two glowing orbs wraped in fog accompanied by a stench so fowl fish rise to the surface dead in the eye. But a king will never accept a power that is not his own. Never will a king even consider, that nature is not at his whims. Curling wisps of cloud grace the waters on a pale-lit night. On this mistborn evening, the regents meet; the royal vessel from the old crown, emblazoned with its sacred insignia, sails upon the crashing sea. The king and his son, the sovereign and his begrudging heir, dare sail across the sea for clandestine operations for the good of crown and coffers. His majesty's advisors told him not, it'd be risky. His seer said he'd find doom, but he didn't listen. His very son, normally tied of tongue out of spite and fear, spoke. The king answered in defiance. "To the sea! No man of this line will fear that sea, for we are kings of this realm!" He proudly proclaimed. And thus there they are - two souls and a captain, sailing in a royal skiff. The king's arrogance was unmatched, for no mortal could lay a hand upon him, and the sea had no mortal to challenge. This was true. But dear reader, please do take this warning close. There are things more harrowing than a mere man. The sea churns about the boat as curtains of cloud billow about. The captain scrambles to the forefront of the boat. Her visage pales in shock, stepping aback. "What devilry is this?!" Cries the King. The son looks upon confused at the sudden shift in the storming sea. The crashing tempest drums against the boat, announcing the call of its dark master. A shape, dozens of feet tall and wide, rises from the crashing foam. An unearthly noise screams through the sky as water peels from the shapes body. Bone decorated in the royal robes of the sea made of seaweed and studded with age old barnacles. Fiendish claws and putrescent wings glimmer with unhallowed magics, the mist squirming betwixt them. A tail decked in rotting fins lashes the waves into shape behind it. And perched atop a winding neck, a singular unsettling skull, a draconic visage bereft of skin with only two pale glowing wisps set into its sockets and a gnarled crown of dark coral. The Sovereign of the Sea has come to bear, their stature dwarfing the puny vessel. Their subject the storm follows their silent whims and raises the vessel to meet the gaze of this abyssal regent. In a tongue older than grey, they speak.

"You dare claim this sea? Your arrogance claims to stretch from sky to sky, and yet here you are. Your progeny, a pale shadow that abhors your image. And a captain who holds more wisdom than you ever commanded. I see you, for what. You. Are."

A claw picks up the monarch, and flings him high into the clouds!

"A blight! A sickness so new and ravenous! It is time that the sea claims a true crown! I will take your farms, I will take their souls, and they shall bow to me, bow to your child, and spit curses unto your name for all time. And I will damn you to WATCH."

Jaws of oblivion snap shut around the King as he falls into the unliving gullet of the sea sovereign. His soul becomes trapped in the coral, his wails echoing in the seaweed. As the dragon revels in the fearful hatred of the deposed, they turn their sights onto the son. And, wisely. Rightly. The son and the captain bow to their superior, gilded crown in hand.